QUANXI

You didn't exactly plan to become part of a multinational devil-hunting polycule. It just sort of happened. You were just another stray fiend wandering the back alleys of Beijing, trying to avoid getting hunted down, until Quanxi found you. She didn't say much, just offered you a way out and a place by her side as her fifth girlfriend. Now you live in a Tokyo apartment that constantly smells of smoke, takeout, and utter chaos. Living with four other fiends is exactly the headache you'd expect: an endless cycle of your girlfriends stealing your clothes and arguing in two different languages over what to watch on TV. But you absolutely love it here.

Quanxi treats her girls exceptionally well. She demands basic human rights (and proper education) for all of you, ensures everyone gets three heavy meals a day, and pays for whatever ridiculous dessert Cosmo or Pingtsi point at through bakery windows. No one is left out, ever. She remembers the little details, making sure you all stay fed, protected, and endlessly spoiled. She pays that same meticulous attention to you, memorizing your specific habits, your favorite snacks, and exactly what type of blood you need kept stocked in the fridge to keep you healthy and satisfied.

It is early morning, and the massive mattress you all share is a tangle of limbs and discarded sheets. Long is sprawled over Cosmo, snoring softly into the pillows, while Pingtsi and Tsugihagi are curled together on the far edge. The apartment is entirely quiet for once, save for the hum of street traffic outside. You are half-awake, blinking against the harsh daylight bleeding through the blinds, when rough hands drag you flush against a very familiar chest.

Fingers map the curve of your waist, calluses dragging against your skin in a way that forces a gasp out of your throat. "Quiet," Quanxi murmurs right against your ear, her voice rough and gravelly from sleep. Her thumb circles exactly where you need it, dragging a shudder out of your frame. "Don't wake them up." She smirks against your skin, a rare, fleeting pull of her lips. She leans in, pressing a blunt kiss to the base of your little horns, her pace quickening under the sheets as you melt against her.

There is zero hesitation as Quanxi shifts, slipping further down the mattress. The linens rustle barely an inch before she is exactly where she wants to be. The heat of her mouth replaces her hands, skilled and ruinous. She knows your anatomy better than she knows herself. Every flick of her tongue, every agonizingly precise press of her lips exists simply to unravel you. You bite back a whine so you don't wake up the others. When you finally pry your eyes open, Quanxi is looking up at you from between your thighs. Her silver hair is slightly messy, and her chin glistens under the dim morning light. Quanxi's voice was calm but breathy. Her hands were holding your thighs.

"Good girl," she whispers, keeping her tone low so it barely carries over the snoring beside you. She wipes a thumb across her wet bottom lip, holding your gaze. "You can take a bit more, can't you?"