#spicy genshin

[saeyoungchoismaid]

Who out of the genshin men do you think would like to see you wrapped up in lingerie under the Christmas tree the most?

[jinkicake]

Spring Is In The Air~

Something happens to them when the seasons change. 

Itto, Tighnari, Yae Miko, Zhongli x Reader

A/N: I wrote this like two months ago and never posted it... I’ve always wanted to try writing something like this so here is my pathetic attempt! It’s corny BUT, smutty!!! :-)

WC - 2,224

NSFWWWW // SMUTTYYY

~~~

ITTO

Itto is not subtle. Try as he might, the poor oni cannot learn the art of subtlety. His reactions always give him away to you within seconds. 

His struggle can currently be seen in the way he braces himself against the counter but still attempts to stand up straight to play it off. 

“Hey,” He sounds breathless, almost as if it is hard for him to breathe. You know he’s going to break any moment now, you can see it as his chest begins to rapidly rise and fall. His breathing quickens and all you can do is stare at his expanding chest. “I need you.”

Itto breaks every spring and putting him back together is your favorite part.

“Fuck me, fuck me!” Itto groans loudly and the sounds, one after another, fly off of the walls. He’s absolutely losing himself as you bounce on his lap, up and down while your thighs pound against his own. The pace is fast, quick, and your knees are not able to handle it alone. It’s entirely him, Itto uses the strength in his muscular arms to toss you around on his lap. His tongue hangs out of his mouth, eyes squeezed together shut all while both of your hands are wrapped around his throat. “Yes, yes, yes,” It’s almost pathetic, the way he is singing your praise and grinds down onto the mattress. He can’t get enough of the feeling, of it all. 

Itto is loud in everything that he does and he never shies away from expressing his desires. 

“I’m gonna cum so fucking hard,” He sounds entirely desperate, almost as if he is about to break into tears. You squeeze your thighs together and watch his every reaction as you clamp around him. His reaction is almost imminent. Itto’s hands on your waist squeeze you tightly as his bare nails dig into your skin as he cums with a drawn-out groan. The oni chases his high without stopping, still wildly thrusting up into you just as before. His pace then grows slower, impossibly slow as he slams into you a handful of times. There’s something final about this but, you know better. 

This is just the beginning. It takes hours to satisfy Itto, especially during the spring. 

You don’t even have the chance to catch your breath before you feel him twitching inside of you again, now hard as ever. His fast recovery is almost as quick as his reflexes. Itto pulls you off of him within a flash before mounting you from behind. 

“I’m sorry, just one more, one more, okay?” You can hear how his voice shakes in your ear but, you don’t have the chance to reply as he effortlessly slides back into you. In this position, you can hear everything, every puff of air that escapes his lips and every whimper that falls. Itto cries into your ear, tongue lapping at the surface as he moves his hips at a quick pace. “You’re fucking me so good,” 

You can almost feel him in your fucking stomach as you clamp around him but, his brutal strides feel so good. Each thrust against your bottom sends you flying and you end up face-first in the duvet. Itto keeps you still with a firm hand on your hip but, you can imagine how broken his expression must be as he groans above you. 

“One more time, one more time,”

((It’s never just one time with him.))

TIGHNARI

“(Y/N), please,” 

Hearing the forest ranger beg is something you are not used to. Tighnari never begs or yearns for your touch and attention. If he wants something, he takes it with little hesitation. 

Except when the seasons begin to change. 

When the air grows colder, something primal shifts in Tighnari. You can see it in the way his eyes soften into pools of need and how he becomes much more sensitive to the slightest touch. If you even think about touching his fingers, over his gloves, he will drop whatever is in his hands. 

Tighnari becomes reactive all over. 

“It’s happening again.” He murmurs into your ear as he presses up against your side. His tail wraps around your thigh, squeezing over and over again as he ruts into your leg. “I need you.” When Tighnari gets like this, you know it’s best to just let him take. 

“You poor thing,” Your voice is full of sympathy, perhaps a bit condescending, and it makes the forest ranger whimper. His ears flatten against the top of his head as his eyes squeeze shut in concentration. Your quiet sighs and hums only make him more delirious, Tighnari burrows his face into the crook of your neck and simply inhales. His breathing gets heavier as his messy thrusts become erratic. If he had not been holding onto you so tightly, you’re sure you would have fallen to the floor by now. 

He cums with a gasp, one that sucks the air from his lungs, and he tries to hide it by biting on your shoulder. Tighnari grits his teeth against your skin as little whimpers leave his lips, his tail rapidly thumping against your leg. His weight becomes too much and you both sink to the floor under his passion. 

That first orgasm meant nothing to him, it’s merely a warm-up. 

Tighnari can’t even bring himself to guide you to your shared bedroom, he takes you on the floor. 

He can’t help the way that he spreads your thighs and licks, running his tongue along your slit. The poor man devours it all, spitting and lapping up at whatever he can reach. His harsh sucks make you shiver and squirm but, you can’t move under the tight grip he has on your waist. 

“Ah,” Whatever Tighnari planned to say is muffled by your cunt as he shoves his tongue inside of you. He thrusts the muscle as far as he can go, ears flattened in concentration while his nose grinds against your clit. It’s as if he has become utterly consumed by you, everything about you because all he can focus on is getting his tongue in you as deep as possible. 

But then, he suddenly pulls himself off of you as if it hurts to touch you.

In the blink of an eye, Tighnari is above you, staring down while his legs get situated between your own. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry but, I need it,” His breathing has become erratic, eyes almost feral as he begins to heavily salivate. With his primal urges brought to the surface, you know you won’t be able to leave this position and similar ones for a few days. “I have to- I have to fuck you.” 

YAE MIKO

With the amount of time you’ve spent beside Yae Miko, you know her exceptionally well. 

You know when something begins to shift within her, almost as if it is in the air. It’s seen in the way the other shrine maidens keep their distance and in the way Miko’s fingers dance along your skin as she grabs you at any possible opportunity. She makes sure that she’s touching your bare skin, her pink nails nearly breaking it as she stands behind you. 

“I require your assistance, pet,” Her breathy voice always confirms it for you and is the tell-tale sign of when her primal urges begin to show. She drags you by your wrist to a lone room, one decorated exceptionally well with everything you could need to last for weeks. Your lover’s touch grows lighter.

“You know what I need from you.” Yae Miko stares down at you as if she is truly looking down on you, her eyes hold little interest but you know better. You can see how her finger is nearly starting to tremble and how her lips have begun to part. “Come here,” She doesn’t even have to lift a finger for you to stand in front of her, within her grasp. 

Her lips are on you without another second to spare. Immediately, it’s all tongue. She parts your lips with tight squeezes of your sides before her hands move to paw at your breasts. While letting her tongue run over your own, shoving the muscle as far down your throat as she can, she towers above you. Her moans are low and entirely full of pleasure. 

You have a belief that her urges bring out something in you, something similar because you can’t help but want to be used by her every season. 

With heavy hands, Miko pushes you to the ground forcefully on your back. She slowly lowers to her knees, watching you carefully as you pathetically stare up at her. Your lips are still part and slightly swollen because of her previous ministrations. It makes her heart stop as desire stirs in the pit of her stomach. 

She spreads your legs with her slim hands and hooks one of your thighs over her own. Your underwear is discarded in seconds by her nails and her shorts are magically on another side of the room. 

Yae Miko’s lips turn slightly upwards, almost in a mischievous grin as she presses your leg to your chest and sits on top of you. She’s hot, the touch of her skin nearly makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. An immediate roll of her hips makes you moan loudly, the feeling of her sopping cunt against your own renders you speechless. 

“How funny,” She coos but, struggles to hide back her own shakey exhales. Desire takes the forefront of her brain and all she can think about is satisfying the demanding urge in the pit of her stomach. Over and over, she presses her clit against your own and rubs at the sensitive area while roughly thrusting her hips. This is only the beginning, you’re too aware of it. 

With the way Miko is squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipple, you can’t help but anticipate the rest of her plans with you. 

ZHONGLI

After spending lifetimes with Zhongli, you still end up winded when the seasons change. 

Your husband is a dutiful man and always gives you a fair warning, a notice before something ever happens with his body. However, sometimes a warning is not nearly enough. 

It’s been days since his insides have turned into a molten heat and Zhongli has not been shy about tackling this issue with you. You’re always so good to him, let him do whatever he desires just to satisfy the annoying urges. 

Day after day, he can’t help but grow stronger about his affections. He’s a selfish man and he desperately needs more. 

“Oh, you’re-” The words can’t even leave his lips as his head tilts back, a loud moan leaves his lips. Zhongli grits his teeth painfully, grinding them down as his hand tightens in your hair. He’s not being careful and neither are you. You continue to choke on him, around him, as your spit coats his entire cock. The cool sensation makes your husband’s thighs twitch as he grunts at the feeling spreading between his legs. 

You feel incredibly lucky that his primal form has yet to take over, perhaps it won’t even show this time around. It would be nearly impossible to satisfy him with another appendage hanging between his thighs. But, the thought still makes you moan wantingly. 

“My love-” Zhongli finds it hard to speak, his balls painfully tight and it only gets worse when he sees your hand hidden between your thighs. He focuses on your fingers moving against your clit and his eyes nearly turn into slits as he focuses on the image. The realization that this brings you as much pleasure as it does him causes a guttural groan to leave his chest. “Come here,”

His voice changes, it becomes much deeper, much more commanding. Zhongli doesn’t wait for you, he roughly pulls you up to your feet before pulling you into his lap. The way he manhandles you, forcing you to sit back on his face makes your entire being light up with need. 

“Morax!” You screech as your hands press into his abdomen, his tongue doesn’t waste a second now that you’re on him. The archon presses his tongue into your cunt, thrusting in and out before running the muscle over your clit. The stimulation makes it hard to focus but, you still reach for his heavy cock. 

You grip him tightly and lick at his slit, tongue digging into the area as you hum at the taste. Zhongli’s grip on your thighs becomes stronger and he fights back with his sharp nails digging into your skin. Had you been any more focused, you would have thought he had grown claws.

Your cunt pulses around his tongue and all Zhongli can do is continue to shove the muscle inside of you. He doesn’t shy away from rubbing against your walls, no, he has his own agenda. It’s almost sick how he coaxes you to gush around him, all so he can swallow it greedily to satisfy some gut-clenching demand. 

But, he can’t help it, he also can’t help how his skin begins to turn and scales spread across his arms. He can’t help but connect with his primal side when you satisfy the very deepest desires that he has. 

[euaphora]

☆ DESPERATE — twitter links

socials

empty parking lot

video game chair

red cheeks

slow and steady

size kink

dominated

skirt

back

tied

[seakicker]

mother's day hc that you tell the genshin boys you're pregnant on mother's day so they decide to celebrate by getting you double pregnant?

YES MA’AM i had a randomizer pick four names for me out of all the guys i write for… kinda laughing at 3/4 of them being all the Serious, Stoic ones lol

fem reader, pregnancy, breeding, overstimulation (alhaitham) and knotting (gorou) below!

alhaitham

You can never be too sure, he says— a good, valid experiment hinges upon proper reliability. Do you know how many undergraduate experimental reports he’s dismissed on account of their supposed “results” being the chance of mere coincidence or random chance? It never hurts to eliminate the possibility of a false positive and to ensure that your positive pregnancy test result is a true positive by breeding you all over again and having you take another pregnancy test in five weeks or so.

When you tell him you’re pregnant, he responds with a quiet nod before almost analyzing all of the behavior you’ve displayed over the last few weeks. Yes, the news makes perfect sense— last week, Alhaitham overheard you wondering aloud if your period was late or if you had just tracked it wrong, and he’d have to be a fool to not know what a missed period is the universal signifier of. The news comes at a perfect time, so he couldn’t be happier— though your husband certainly has a… uniquely stoic way of expressing happiness.

That night, he replicates every last aspect of the night he imagines he got you pregnant some five weeks ago (it’s a simple calculation, really) down to your spot on the bed and the clothes he was wearing just to make sure that a false positive is out of the question. Perhaps he’ll have to come inside if you twice tonight just to really seal the deal that you’re pregnant— once is chance, twice is a coincidence, and thrice is a true pattern. You’d like to try and convince him that surely there’s no need for all of this, that pregnancy tests rarely, rarely fail or show an incorrect result, but there’s no pushing back against your husband’s logical calculations or sense of reason— not that you’re much in the condition to even try to speak with him anyways.

When your husband has you spread open wide with your knees pressed up against either side of your chest, a light conversation is absolutely out of the picture. You’d consider it a feat to muster up anything other than splintered whines of your husband’s name and delicate pleas for him to slow down— though, truthfully, it’d be an even bigger feat if you managed to successfully convince Alhaitham of doing the latter. He hasn’t stalled or slowed his pace for even a fraction of a second because he, of course, is trying to replicate the night he very likely knocked you up exactly, and he just so happened to be absolutely railing you that night.

“You can certainly take more than this.” That’s all he offers when you beg him to slow down again. “I’ve discovered, met, and exceeded every last one of your limits myself, and this pace, this position, and this fervor hardly come close to any of those. I’m simply validating your claim before I take to preparing the spare room for our child.”

You gasp and let your head fall back against the pillow, defeated and overwhelmed in equal tandem by your husband’s delightful Mother’s Day plans.

Alhaitham only chuckles once, a satisfied smirk so faint on his lips that you almost don’t catch it at all. “You’ll be alright. We’ll have nine entire months to be gentle.”

zhongli

Zhongli has lived a normal human lifetime nearly ninety times over— yet, fascinatingly, he always insists he’s come nowhere close in experiencing everything life, nature, humanity, and civilization have to offer, an assertion you’ve always found downright impossible to fathom. How does somebody not get bored after six thousand years of life? You know people who are bored after just four years of working in the same career before they jump ship and try to find something, anything completely different.

He offers the exact same explanation every single time you once again ask how he still finds things to do, places to go, and activities to enjoy after being alive for so long— he always, always smiles softly and explains that he never gets bored with life because you’re in it, and you show him new things, new foods, and new ways to love and enjoy the world that he never even imagined prior to meeting you.

You’ll admit that you’ve found his reasoning somewhat hard to believe on a few separate occasions— like he’s seriously been alive for over six thousand years, yet he’s never tried red bean ice cream from Inazuma before? It’s not exactly a rare or expensive good. However, there are other times when you think you understand what he means, and his logic has never been more evident than today because you told your darling husband that you’re pregnant this morning.

“I’ve never been a father before,” Zhongli hums as he presses a wide circle of kisses all around the cusp of your tummy. “I’ve tutored and taught many, but I’ve never raised a child as my own from their very birth.”

“Does it make you nervous?” You grip his left hand a little tighter as his right comes to rub a soothing circle over the apex of your soft belly.

He pauses for a moment. “I see no reason to be afraid of new experiences, let alone ones I have you to guide me through. I’ve found that sampling life’s uncertainties and navigating its surprises provide far more enrichment than routine.”

You laugh. “I don’t think I can do much ‘guiding’ here, my love— I’ve never been a mother before either. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Zhongli melts. How do you always know just how to tickle his heart with the most innocuous of statements?

“And that is exactly why I’m not nervous— because we’ll have each other to both learn from and learn alongside. I’ve spent the vast majority of my life being the teacher and not the student, so opportunities to learn with you excite me.”

All you can do is hide your face with your free hand, your cheeks warm and your grin obvious. Your husband chuckles and kisses a line down the bottom half of your tummy, down your hips, and all the way down, down, down until he runs into the fabric of your panties.

“I’ve read that intimacy during pregnancy has an array of positive effects for a mother,” Zhongli notes, gently sliding a hand down to tug your panties to the side. “We’ll have to try every last tip and wives’ tale, won’t we, my love?”

diluc

Completely opposite to that of Zhongli, Diluc’s perspective on celebratory sex on Mother’s Day is that it’s about as tired, cliche, and lazy as celebratory sex on a birthday, New Year’s Eve, or Valentine’s Day. Really, any other holiday where people feel the need to either supplement their actual present with sex because they fear what they really bought their spouse just isn’t good enough on its own or because they forgot to get them a present entirely.

Or so he says.

He’s always been of the opinion that love and intimacy expressed on a random day of the year without any special meaning bears more weight than celebratory holiday sex— why should sex be included as part of the celebratory experience when a married couple is expected to regularly display intimacy towards one another? You’ve teased him about this cynical, grumpy take plenty of times, but you’ve almost come to agree with him regardless— it’s hard to even have the energy for sex at the end of your birthday or on the evening of Valentine’s Day when you’re just so exhausted by everything Diluc planned for you during the day. Perhaps it’s entirely because he doesn’t take special occasions lightly that he sees no need to end the day on a cliche.

Well, there’s a first for everything.

“I thought you don’t do celebratory sex,” you whimper with a sharp inhale. You had meant for the statement to sound more teasing and alluring, but it’s damn near impossible to keep your composure when your husband’s spent the past hour and a half between your legs.

Diluc, for the first time in ninety minutes, actually pulls away from your slick, saliva-coated pubic mound to stare up at you over your tummy. How amusing— this is the smallest he’ll see your tummy for the next nine months, and something tells him he’s not going to miss it whatsoever.

“We’ve never celebrated Mother’s Day before simply because you were never a mother for any of them. Today is different— and of course this news deserves celebration.” That’s right— you did mention to Diluc that you’re pregnant this morning over breakfast, didn’t you?

You take advantage of this impromptu break to make eye contact with your husband, who hasn’t looked this… disheveled in quite some time. Bangs plastered to his forehead, nose and chin dripping with a mix of saliva and your fluids, and pupils blown wide with desire, this is a Diluc you don’t get to see very often— and you know how to revel in the treat.

“Making exceptions to your own rules doesn’t suit you.” There, that one actually sounded teasing.

He offers a sort of shrug in response. “I’d have to be devoid of all emotion entirely to not want to celebrate my wife’s body when she tells me it’s pregnant with our very first child.” He glides his soaked lips down the inside of your thighs elegantly and with purpose, taking care to stop just before where thigh meets labia to really relish in your scent.

“Besides,” Diluc murmurs. “I’d like to map out how your body looks now so I can properly appreciate how much lovelier you’ll look once you begin to actually show how well I’ve bred you.”

gorou

Gorou tentatively asks you to repeat yourself just to make sure that he heard you properly, which carries a good amount of irony given his exceptionally superhuman hearing. He just wants to make sure he heard you properly— telling him you’re pregnant on Mother’s Day? He can’t think of anything more perfect than that, so it’d be a shame if he just imagined you saying it— he’s dreamed of being a father for so long now that if you were to hit him with a “gotcha” now, he might faint from disappointment.

Realistically, he should’ve put two and two together three weeks ago, but leave it to your husband to miss something glaringly obvious without your explicit guidance or direction. It’s almost funny to think that, despite his keen sense of smell, taste, and hearing, his overprotective nature, and his well-developed common sense, it’s so easy for him to miss the elephant in the room and get distracted by something incredibly unrelated to whatever he’s supposed to be looking out for.

He should have known from the second he found himself growing more and more overprotective of you without any visible or tangible piece of evidence as to why— you weren’t sick, you weren’t injured, and you weren’t otherwise vulnerable… or so he thought. It wasn’t obvious to him at the time, but now that you’ve confirmed it for him… it makes perfect sense. His nose already knew you were pregnant then— he picked up in the slightest change in your hormone levels without even realizing it, and now that he knows you’re pregnant?

He won’t leave your side for a single moment these next nine months.

Apparently, his vow to stay by your side 24/7 started the very moment you first broke the news to him— with your husband pressed so close up against you, you wouldn’t be surprised if you two just simply combined. Gorou’s hips slap against your ass so roughly and so quickly the sound of skin making contact with skin bounces off the walls and fills your ears, almost threatening to drown out your husband’s elated rambling.

Almost, but not quite. Nothing will get him to stop talking once he’s already started running his mouth.

“I just— I’ve just wanted this for so long,” he pants, looping his hands around your thighs to press them against the front your belly. “It’s just instinct, I guess? I just— Archons— there’s no better way to spend my life than with a sweet wife and a big, big family of our cute little pups.” He’ll be sure to keep you pregnant now that the precedent has already been established— Gorou knows he’ll miss taking you doggy style when your belly gets too big to safely attempt such a position, but he’s sure he can figure out a nice, comfortable compromise.

“I’ll get lots of time off from work! It’ll be easy. I’ll spend every day taking good, good care of you and our family because that’s— that’s what good husbands do, right? I’ll get Thoma to teach me tons of nutritious meals for you because I only know how to prepare quick rations for troops,” Gorou notes with a sheepish chuckle before he hunches over your back and whimpers brokenly. Will you still be able to take his knot while you’re pregnant, or will it be too much for you? He can’t push you too far now that you’re the most delicate you’ve ever been, heavy with the promise of a big family, right?

“I love you so much,” he gasps, nails digging into your belly softly as he loses control of himself. “And I’ll be the best father possible!”

[redthemarten]

I like to think that if there's one thing Monsieur Neuvillette does in his free time to unwind, it's probably soaking in a bath for hours without end, until he becomes one with water

[daturabouquet]

DOTTORE'S SHARP TEETH.

Dottore letting you touch his teeth taking an unexpected turn. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂ttore frfr

"Oh Doctor, what sharp teeth you have!"

[Warning! mention of skin branding, spicy-ish?, marking, biting, abuse of authority, dubious consent to biting]

----------------------𝕀𝕝 𝔻𝕠𝕥𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕖------------------------

"Doctor, I'm interested in your teeth!" You chirped, gaining the Doctor's attention. Dottore turns around and gazes upon your figure, seemingly intrigues with your request. "My teeth?" Dottore asks, making sure he heard you correctly. "What is there that is interesting with my teeth, dear?" He continues.

"Look at them, they're really sharp.. I wonder if I can touch them, Dottore?" You ask, though a little bit doubtful of his approval, but you push through. Hearing your question, the Doctor suddenly smiles widely, showing off his sharp teeth. He then bends down to your level and grabs your wrist. "Go ahead my sweet, feel around." Without hesitation, you start caressing his every tooth, you have always been fascinated by the unique shape of his teeth. His canines are the pointiest, also the most interesting to touch, how can you ever resist touching those perfectly razor sharp teeth?

As you run your finger across his canine, instantly you see blood. Dottore's canine tooth has sliced your finger, leaving you wincing and pulling away. Dottore stops baring his teeth, and puts his focus back to you. He nods and takes his trusty clipboard, scribbling something on it.

"Hey! I-i'm bleeding here!" You pout, asking for his attention once again, but instead of coming to your aid, Dottore approaches with a very suspicious smile on his face.

"(name)." Dottore calls out.

"Y-yes?" You reply, surprised by his sudden call. "You just gave me a brilliant idea, dear. Remember that time you distastefully rejected my polite offer to brand you as mine?" Dottore says, softly cupping your face.

"Y-yes! I-I didn't want to be branded with hot metal..." You complain, but there's no malice in your tone, only a slight hint of fear.

Dottore leans down, now inches away from your sensitive skin. He whispers on your neck, his warm breath giving you goosebumps. "Why don't I brand you in another way, darling dearest?" His words send you into a state of fight or flight, but unfortunately you're cornered. Realizing your defeat, you submissively whimper and utter a simple yet pleading request; "Please don't make it hurt too much."

Dottore nods dismissively before grabbing the back of your neck, forcing you to stay in place. His gaze is cold, unfeeling yet possessive. His teeth grazing your sensitive skin, like a predator toying with its prey. His lips meet your skin, kissing it softly before parting, and biting deep down into your flesh. His soft hums soothe your nerves, his fingers tapping on your waist, averting your attention away from the sting.

You try to focus on anything, anything. Desperate to ease the pain, you tug on Dottore's long lab coat, burying your face on his shoulder. You bite your bottom lip in pain, all while breathing in your lover's familiar scent; a hint of rubbing alcohol, a slight touch of chemicals, and a whole lot of blood. Tears are pooling up in your eyes, for you know your Harbinger will not consider your comfort.

"D-Dottore... I-it hurts!" You finally sob out. Surprisingly, the Doctor finally pulls away. You notice both blood and saliva trickling down your poor abused neck. You look at yourself in horror and shock, yet Dottore stares at you, his gaze seemingly looking for another target.

Before you can react, Dottore latches back onto a different spot on your neck, creating a second "love" bite. You can't protest, you can never protest. He's your superior after all, right? He needs to mark you entirely as his, and this torment is just his way of claiming you.

"D-doctor.. p-please.. i-it hurts so much-" You cry out, this time desperate for relief.

The Doctor pauses, before smiling wickedly and holding you even tighter and peppering kisses all over your bruised "love" bites. Little did you know, this is how your sick and twisted lover prepares you for more razor sharp love bites to come.

--

"Mmm..."

His teeth sink deep into your skin.

"S-stop it! Please.. it hurts so much..."

Your hands tugging on his lab coat.

"Three more, dear."

Gentle taps on your nape.

"I'm yours- I-I'm yours! Please... This is unnecessary-"

Pathetic fruitless begging.

"Mmm.."

Soothing caresses.

"P-please... at least... give me some... care..."

Pleading for mercy.

"I'll reward you for your good behavior..."

His loving gaze on you.

"A-a few kisses? A-and a hug...?"

Submission.

"Whatever you desire."

------

[lyneira]

♤ let me see you all bare ♤

-> how the genshin men would strip your clothes off before making love

18+ | no explicit smut but VERY suggestive!

Rips them off instantly

Itto, Childe, Xiao

They want you, and they want you NOW. It'd be shown in the aggression that they would strip you with. They wouldn't care about making any rips and tears on your clothes. After all, how could they dare to hesitate when a meal like you was so ready to be eaten? So once he's made you completely bare, he'll push you down onto the bed and devour you, marking and claiming all of your body as his.

Hastily

Gorou, Diluc, Scaramouche, Cyno

They wouldn't strip you as aggressively as the previous category, but they'd do so with the same intent. He'd strip you as quickly as he could while he'd have his mouth connected with yours, kissing you so desperately. He might end up fumbling with your buttons or other things of the sort in his haste, which would not only frustrate him, but would particularly frustrate his "friend" under his belt that had already been begging to be let out.

During these times, he'd adore it if you would strip him as he stripped you. Please help him relieve himself from his confines and watch as his joy springs out. Then, he won't hesitate to fill you with it too.

Takes his time

Tighnari, Albedo, Heizou, Ayato, Venti, Lyney

He'd be in no rush to get you naked. He'd rather take his time stripping the both of you, and would do so in a relaxed manner. Though, that doesn't mean he'll take all day to do so either. He'd enjoy caressing and groping certain areas of your body before and after taking your clothes off. He'd also delight in observing the entirety of your body even while clothed, getting himself excited over what's in store for him beneath your covers, which would make it all the more satisfying when he strips you of them.

Slowly

Kaveh, Thoma, Neuvillette, Zhongli, Baizhu, Kazuha

He would do so gently and gracefully. He thinks that this part is just as intimate and sensual as the action of making love is, so he'd rather savor the moment. He'd indulge in the way each garment falls off, exposing more and more of your skin. By the end, when you're finally fully exposed to him, he can't help but stop and stare. Gosh, how beautiful you are to him. Just look at how soft your skin looked, how wondefully shaped you are to him, how your eyes shone with so much love toward him, and he wouldn't change a single thing. He would then hold you by your waist, bringing you closer to him, and press a gentle kiss to your lips before proceeding to cover your body with a million kisses.

Doesn't bother to strip you

Alhaitham, Kaeya, Dainsleif, Wriothesley

They don't care about whether you both are naked or even fully clothed, he really just wants to make love with you already, and he knows he'll make you feel just as good either way.

It would be a plus if you were wearing a skirt or a dress. That way he'd have easy access to your special place. If not, there wouldn't be a problem at all either. He's skilled enough with his fingers to smoothly unbutton or unzip your pants with ease and use them for so much more.

Therefore, you can also expect some quickies with him out in public. He revels in his ability of getting you hot and breathless anywhere, at anytime, while being able to cover you up quickly and act as if nothing happened before anyone can catch you two. (Though if anyone did catch you two, it wouldn't matter to him anyway ;))

a/n: just something short and quick! I'm hoping to get back into the groove of writing this week 🙏

© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS

[jessamine-rose]

˚♱ଘ Faustian Bargain ଓ♱˚

Welp here we are with the fourth entry in my Yandere Church AU. Let’s fall into depravity once more, this time with Demon! Pantalone x Contractee! Darling (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ )

Tw:: yandere, manipulation, blood, violence, slight self-harm for summoning purposes, spice, mention of nsfw, MDNI

Note:: fictional depictions of religion, guest-starring Demon! Scaramouche <3

♡ 2.5k words under the cut ♡

♡ Since their creation, humans have ruled over the mortal plane under the influence of spiritual beings. But while angels are venerated as divine saviors, demons are fallen sinners who corrupt humanity through temptation and curses. It is for this reason that humans live in fear of demons, with the Church condemning all forms of unholy covenant. But time and time again, that warning has fallen on deaf ears.

♡ Throughout history, several individuals have formed pacts with demons in exchange for divine favors. Favors vary across demons but in all contracts, the price is clear: The human gives up their soul and any chance at salvation. Once the pact has been made, the human is granted the ability to summon the demon as their lifelong companion. But upon the human’s death, the pact is broken and the demon is free to seek out new souls.

♡ It is through these contracts that the Harbinger of Fortune rose to prominence. He is a “young” demon in the sense that his earliest records only date back to three centuries; but in that short amount of time, Pantalone has tempted many fools and heretics with the promise of material wealth. And it is through this tactic that he attained power, recognition, your soul.

♡ In your defense, you had no other choice. Born to an elite family in Liyue, you had enjoyed a life of luxury until your parents squandered their fortune. After a failed attempt to flee to another nation, they were murdered and you were told to repay their debts lest you meet the same fate. It was a hopeless situation—you had no assets to pawn off and even then, your remaining days would be spent in poverty. So when you recalled the local stories about the demon who deals in prosperity, you were desperate to summon him.

♡ It is difficult to find authentic records of his summoning ritual, but you manage with what little time you have left. There is an illustration of his sigil, to be copied on the floor with blood from your own palm. A table is arranged with incense, gold coins, freshly-brewed tea, a mirror, and the dagger used to extract your blood. Once everything is in place, you clasp your bloody hands together and utter the sacred incantations.

♡ As soon as Pantalone’s true name leaves your lips, the incense sticks emit a dark fragrant smoke. The summoning circle glows violet and within it, a brilliant figure emerges. Dark horns, adorned with silver, curve back along his raven hair. His garments are styled with violet jewels, serpentine motifs, an iridescent cape embroidered with a scene from the Garden of Eden. He is beautiful, so beautiful that you feel unworthy when his bespectacled gaze meets yours.

♡ Before you can look away, he is already onto you. In a polite voice, he introduces himself and asks for your name. Next, he tells you to disable the barrier of the summoning circle; he prefers civil negotiations. It takes some reluctance on your part but eventually, the two of you are seated together at the table. There is a critical look on his face as he surveys his offerings and explains his contract in detail.

♡ Aside from the general rules, there are clauses specific to Pantalone’s pacts. He can only be summoned twice a week, and never on Sundays. Contracts with other demons require his permission. Any attempt at breaking the pact will incur severe consequences. All of this is said with honeyed words and a kind smile.

♡ So perfect is his facade that you fail to notice an undertone of condescension. A glimpse into your soul was all it took for Pantalone to regard you as a hopeless fool hindered by your worldly upbringing. But that is fine—fools are easier to deal with, and you’d make a pretty addition to his collection of souls. Plus, it was only yesterday that his previous human died, and he is always quick to move on to the next pact. With that, Pantalone tells you to make a choice.

“A fair exchange, don’t you think?” he asks. The smile on his face is deceptively angelic. “In return for your soul, I will provide you with wealth, prosperity, everything your heart desires. Do you believe it is worth the price, ______?”

♡ You say yes. That is when Pantalone takes off his rings then his gloves, revealing multiple scars slashed across his palm lines. Gracefully, he picks up your used dragger, draws a new line, and clasps his wounded hand in yours. Then he wraps the same hand around your neck, staining it with a mix of your blood.

♡ There is a burning sensation followed by a burst of pure ecstasy. Once the euphoria subsides, Pantalone lets go of you and holds up the mirror. The front of your throat is branded with his sigil while a diamond pattern encircles your neck. It glows violet before disappearing altogether, a sacred collar invisible to mortal eyes. Thus, the pact has been formed.

♡ The next few minutes are calm. Pantalone’s scars are concealed once more. The two of you finish your tea. He takes a coin from his offering, now magically engraved with his sigil, and explains that you need only flip it to summon him. Then he offers one last smile, says he will look forward to your partnership, and disappears with the remaining coins.

♡ In the morning, you wake up to find bags of coins and jewels on the table, the exact amount needed to pay off your debts. Once the money has been given, you eagerly summon Pantalone to thank him. He merely smiles, leads you to your parents’ office, and tells you that the next step is to rebuild your family business. After all, while he can create material riches out of nothing, a mysterious source of wealth may attract the suspicion of your fellow humans.

♡ Soon enough, the company is flourishing under “your” authority. In reality, it is Pantalone who instructs your decisions and eliminates competitors. During meetings with clients, he attends in his invisible form and whispers to you the necessary responses. With success comes your return to high society, and Pantalone is all too happy to escort you to galas as your plus-one. His human form attracts several admirers, but his attention remains on you.

♡ He is also pleasant company. You can’t help but summon him often—your house feels empty without your parents. As for friends, you refuse to trust anyone after they turned their backs on you during your financial crisis. Pantalone is always nice about it, listening to your woes and participating in your hobbies. Once in a while, he will activate your pact mark and comment on how needy you are.

♡ He even fulfills your carnal desires. Over the months, Pantalone has toyed with your physical attraction towards him, teasing you with light touches, seductive whispers, sinful smiles…and a deep kiss when you shyly proposition him. That kiss is soon followed by heavy makeouts, long nights in your bed, physical marks all over your body. Greedy as he may be, he always makes sure to repay the pleasure you’ve given him.

♡ One night, you ask him about his divine nature. He confirms the popular belief that all demons are fallen angels; in his case, he was created for the Ninth Order, the lowest rank in the angel hierarchy. For the first century of his life, he could only settle for the inferior powers and duties assigned to his status. Neither could he enjoy the freedom which humans were born with.

♡ Thus, he set his sights on Hell. For angels are not created equal but demons can earn their powers through individual efforts. But leaving God always comes with a price, and Pantalone’s was paid in blood and tears.

⬩◈⬩

“Is that how you lost your wings?”

In the dark, your demon’s scars remain apparent. A pair of rough, featherless, ugly lines which you are careful not to touch, lest he flinch—from pain or shame? During your first night together, Pantalone refused to talk about it and you took the hint.

Even now, he flips over in your bed to hide his imperfections from you. When he answers your question, his voice takes on a light tone.

“Yes. It was God who ripped out my wings, and He even had the ‘mercy’ to cast them out of Heaven after me. But that was a long time ago, and I’ve since put my old feathers to good use.”

His capes, he means. They are his signature accessory, all crafted with sheer fabric, tiny jewels, and iridescent embroidery. Each cape is its own masterpiece, bearing fantastical images of God’s creations. It was during a casual conversation that Pantalone told you the threads were sourced from his old feathers.

He looks past you, and you know his gaze is on the coat rack. Tonight’s cape depicts a celestial paradise filled with winged figures. Beneath Heaven, separated by dark clouds, demonic figures descend into a fiery sky.

“Still, it must’ve been painful,” you tell him. Hesitantly, you add, “I mean, you didn’t only lose a body part that day. You also lost your former appearance, your ability to fly, your siblings—”

At that, a smile makes its way to his face. A large, genuine smile that isn’t directed at you.

“My former brethren were not dearly missed,” he replies. He sits up, combing the strands of hair tangled around his horns. “After I landed in Hell, I was taken in by an older demon. Let’s call her Jiejie, since she does not appreciate needless declarations of her true name. She is the one who treated my wounds, the one who cared for me using her own resources, the one who welcomed me into her home with open wings. And for that, I am eternally grateful.”

A soft breeze rustles the cape, threads glittering in the moonlight. Some threads, however, lack the iridescent quality of Pantalone’s feathers. Instead, they are silvery shades of black and gray.

His tone softens. “I will confess that I had an easy start in Hell thanks to her influence, as did Scaramouche who fell before me. But everything else—my contracts, my current status—are the fruits of my own labor. Perhaps someday, I may even reach Jiejie’s level of power.”

“I see…” You look into his eyes this time. “So what do she and that Scara demon specialize in? They sound nice; am I allowed to form pacts with them?”

“No.” He says it firmly, with no room for argument. Bare hands pull your body closer to his. “Even speaking as their brother, that sounds very unconscionable. Don’t get too greedy now.”

“Oh, I…okay!” you squeak. A faint violet light takes up your peripheral vision—your pact mark? “I’m sorry for asking. I’ll remember that.”

“Good.” His hand moves to your throat, tracing your sigil. When your eyes meet, his are bright with desire. “Never forget, you are mine first and foremost.”

⬩◈⬩

♡ In the following years, Pantalone grows more fond of you. Gifts begin to appear in your hands, from violet jewels to stylish garments. He accompanies you to more meetings with your fellow humans, his arm wrapped around your waist in a possessive gesture. His physical affection intensifies. On a few occasions, he even visits you despite not being summoned.

♡ It’s a nice change, but an overwhelming one. As time passes, you meet new friends and suitors, only to reject them after Pantalone claims to have glimpsed malice in their souls. Neither can you summon other demons, not when he is confiscating your demonological texts under the pretense that you’re too “impressionable” for another pact. And who can forget the time you were caught looking for information on the Tree of Life?

♡ It wasn’t your intention to seek a way out of your debt. It was by pure coincidence that you ran into the heretic who sold you the grimoire with information on Pantalone; and the conversation naturally shifted to the topic of your eternal damnation. Unsurprisingly, many humans have attempted to go back on their deals; and according to your “friend,” the best solution is to become immortal through the Tree of Life. You only asked them to contact you if they ever find the mythical tree, but that was enough to anger Pantalone.

“Do not lie to me, ______,” he snaps. His smile appears calm, but his tone sounds absolutely venomous. “I glimpsed your memories of last night, and I know you tried to violate our contract.”

“I…” You fearfully shake your head, only to cry as your throat constricts. It hurts, as though his sigil is burning your flesh, and your knees hit the floor. “I didn’t mean to…”

Your voice trails off. A gloved hand tilts your head upwards, forcing you to meet his death glare.

“Speak up, darling. My time is precious.”

♡ After that, you apologize and make no attempt to evade your fate. The next time Pantalone becomes angry, you at least have the luxury of not being the target of his emotions. It is a seemingly normal day, and you are served tea by a long-time servant. Suddenly, Pantalone appears and pulls you away from the individual, not bothering to hide his true form. When he tells the servant to “drop the act,” there is an indigo glint in their eyes.

♡ And that’s how you learn that the Puppeteer specializes in demonic possession. The servant’s body falls to the floor, unconscious, and it is Scaramouche’s turn to make himself known. He has asymmetrical horns, a single skeletal bat wing, and an expression which is far from friendly. A silvery black-and-gray feather dangles from the brooch pinned above his heart.

“Tell me, Scaramouche, what are your reasons for spying on my precious jewel?”

“Hmph, as if you need to ask. I just wanted to see if your little pet is worth Nee-san’s blessing. If you still desire them when that time comes, you’re on your own.”

♡ You don’t understand what they’re talking about, but it’s clear that you have no part in the conversation. After a few insults, Scaramouche leaves, but not without telling you to “know your place” in the future. That is when Pantalone sighs, pours a cup of tea for himself, tells you that it is none of your concern. Don’t worry, darling, he has it all under control. So just sit down, drink your tea, talk to him about anything under the sun. You still have a long life ahead of you, and he shall give you Heaven on earth until the day your heart ceases to beat.

♡ And perhaps if you are good enough, he will act on his desire to keep you as his pet in Hell. It’s been centuries since Pantalone has tortured a sinner, but he does know the best ways to break your mind. And is eternal suffering in his home not preferable to another demon laying their hands on you? At any rate, it’s not like you have any other choice.

“In the name of love, I will respect the contract between us and the fate you put in my hands.”

♡

More Church AU here!! Dottore ๑ Capitano ๑ Arlecchino

Note:: Please do not send me any Church AU asks/ requests involving characters or dynamics not included in my masterlist.

Aahhh I hope y’all enjoyed my take on Demon! Pantalone!! He ended up with the most tame + lore-heavy fic, and I swear that the character of “Jiejie” will make more sense when I write the remaining stories for Church AU. Also, fun fact, Pantalone’s capes are inspired by Rusly Tjohnardi and Hieronymus Bosch’s triptychs~

Moving on, thank you to @diodellet for beta-reading this and supporting me through every step of writing hell. Now if y’all excuse me, I’m must avenge myself and whack Pantalone with the biggest cross I can find o(^▽^)o

Tag a Pantalone enjoyer!! @navxry @beloved-blaiddyd @leftdestiny-posts @meimeimeirin @euniveve @lychniis @teabutmakeitazure @stickyspeckledlight @mochinon-yah @zhongrin @harmonysanreads @oofasleep @theinnerunderrain @ddarker-dreams

[fictionwifey]

Tighnari has sensitive ears

Tighnari headcannons because I have sensitive ears too :3 (ONESHOT HERE) masterlist

TW/CW: not good at writing smut hcs 😭, language, p in (hole) sex, fingering, biting/hickies, idfk what else sorry 

🫧

Tighnari has sensitive ears, so certain sounds irritate him

When you drop things and it’s loud it scares him 

If you’re being kinda recklessly loud he gets really annoyed which is justified because it hurts his poor ears :<

He tries to stay calm but it gets old fast, he loves you he really does but like. stop

“[Y/N]! Can…can you stop doing that please?” (Not my notes app trying to tell me how to write 😤)

If you chew gum or food, it also sometimes gets irritating to him

He loves 8D music like in headphones guys

He also won’t admit it immediately if you ask for some reason? but he enjoys ASMR

Like tapping or typing and sometimes scratching and brushing and stuff 

when you just whisper to him that you love him or something at night omg he’s just like 💗 “I love you so much [Y/N].”

(Anyway like I said before I made these because I also have ears that adore ASMR and are kinda sensitive but I love fireworks and loud sounds too)

and that’s the thing

Tighnari does not love loud sounds, for the record, he hates them

🎀

…there are some loud sounds he likes

He *LOVES* your whimpers and moans i cannot emphasize this enough

especially when they’re of his name

Okay seriously he loves when you stimulate his ears

sweet, heavenly sounds are falling from your parted lips

especially when his fingers curl into that spot perfectly, you let out the most ethereal whorish moan

the only sounds in the room are both your moans, the wet sounds of sex, and  Tig whispering sweet praise in your ear

once he’s inside you, your hole tightens around him so well

he can’t help but go rough, not that you mind

he bites up your neck and thighs during all this

Cyno has a few questions tomorrow at breakfast

Should I make a oneshot out of this?

[smallestapplin]

My inmate

Wriothesley x male reader.

Cw : inmate reader, office fucking, reader is called pretty boy and good boy.

🔞Minors do not interact! Adult situations stay adult situations.🔞

A commissions from a friend.

-

-

-

You’re an odd inmate, one Wriothesley keeps his eyes on. Most would assume it’s because you’re an escape artist, though they’d only be half right. You love the thrill of breaking into places you don’t belong, but it’s never to truly get out of the fortress of Meropide.

Your antics have Wriothesley enamored, you always break into his office just to visit him, and it’s given him many laughs at seeing you at his desk waving at him.

But he can’t deny the risk.

And how much he loves it, like he does you.

“C’mon pretty boy, that’s it. Fuck, doing so good for me.”

You whine, feeling his hot breath fan across your neck before he litters your bare skin with kisses.

“Mm…W-Wriothesley it’s so much.”

Your back is against his chest, your legs spread being kept open with his, leaving your needy cock on his display for anyone who’d walk into his office.

He made sure to lock the door, however, you’re for his eyes only.

His dick throbs at your whines.

“My poor little inmate. Don’t worry, I know you can take it.”

His dick is only halfway inside you, and from your other encounters with him, you know you still have so much to go.

“Shhh there we go, almost in, handsome.”

He slides a calloused hand up your stomach and to your pecs, thumb rubbing across your nipples. Wriothesley chuckles at your jerky reaction, watching your body twitch against his gentle touches, while his cock carefully slides into your ass.

He bites his bite, breathing out heavily before tossing his head back against his chair.

“Shit!…fuckin’ hell, you feel so good. Relax, you’re squeezing me so tightly.”

“M’sorry! Just, feels good, so deep.”

You lean your head back against his shoulder, trying to take deep breaths and relax for him. Wriothesley leans forward, kissing your cheek and nuzzling against your neck. His free hand stroking your inner thigh until he can move again.

“Can you go faster? Please?” You plead breathlessly, but he’s happy to oblige.

“Want more, baby boy?” You can feel his sharp grin on your neck.

“Who am I to deny such a good boy, asking so politely.”

You choke on the air, feeling your breath being punched from your lungs from him pushing his cock inside you. Wriothesley always fills you up so well, making you feel so full.

“Move..! Please please Wrio move!”

His rough and calloused hands move to your hips, lifting you halfway off his cock before swiftly pulling you back down. You arch your back, tossing your head back against his shoulder as you cry out. Your hands gripping his, clawing at them for something to hold onto you.

Wriothesley bites his lip groaning at how your ass squeezes around him so nicely, like you want him to cum.

Your squeals echo in his office. Your drool slides down your chin as he fucks you, slamming deeper and deeper inside you, before your shriek, your body tensing only to fall limp.

“Oh? My pretty boy liked that?” He moans in your ear, nipping at your neck.

You try to grind back in time with each rut of his hips but his movements are too quick, using you like a well-loved toy. Your cock smacks against your stomach with his feverish thrusts, getting your pre everywhere.

“M-m’close! Gonna cum!”

The tip of his cock hits your prostate, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. You practically shriek, feeling one of his hands grab your dick, stroking it in time with his thrusts.

“Too much! Oh fuck—!!”

“Give it to me, c’mon make a mess on me.”

Your cock is twitching in his hand, while you can feel his throbbing inside you.

With one final thrust you break, wailing as your cum coats his desk, thighs, and stomach. Your tear-filled eyes roll back at feeling his thick hot cum painting your insides white.

“I love that face when you cum. You’re addicting.”

You pant, laying limp against the large man, but can’t stop the airy chuckle that leaves you as he kisses your neck and cheek.

“How do you feel?”

“Amazing….archons above that was so good.”

You can feel him puffing with pride.

With light shuffling you blink, seeing his coat being placed over your bare body.

“Wait, wait it’ll get dirty.” You panic, but he brushes your worries away.

“It’ll be an easy clean, I wanna keep you here a little longer before cleaning you up.”

He wants you to keep his cock warm while he lavishes you in kisses.

“You did so good, such a good boy for me. I love you.”

You snuggle against him, holding his coat tightly around you in the comfort of his arms.

“Love you too, handsome.”

He knows you two can’t stay like this for long with his work, but he’s going to take every chance he gets to keep you like this.

He doesn’t want you to leave just yet.

[jinkicake]

HSHDHSHD HI AGAIN I JUST SAW UR CHILDE AND SCARAMOUCHE ARRANGE MARRIAGE POST AND I GO SJGNFNFNFNDNNFNDNG THE WAY U WRITE ARRANGE MARRIAGE TROPES>>>>>>/lh UR WRITTING IS SO GOOD!! I ALWAYS COMEBACK AND RE READ IT EVERYTIME AND I JUST REALIZED U ALSO WRITE FOR OBEY ME?! AND UR WRITING IS THE FIRST FEW ONES I'VE READ AFTER I JOIN THE OM FANDOM TOO?!👀💖💐

Ps. Would u mind if I request a 2nd part for the arrange marriage aus for the first fews chars (esp. Perrio👀) if nit they it's fine <33 thx u for creating such an amazing content!!💖💖

Forced / Arranged Marriage Trope

(pt. ??) Alhaitham, Dottore, Pierro, Zhongli x Reader

fem!reader bc I like the use of ‘wife’

A/N: hi anon!! thank you for being so patient w me and for being so sweet </333 T T i hope you like this~~ if you want me to do part2 for anyone else let me know!! I only did it for zhongli and pierro teehee bc i also wanted to add alhaitham and dottore (i hope that is alright~~)

WC - 3.2k

- yandere!dottore  // dottore is his own warning -

NSFW // LIGHT SMUT (pierro+zhongli)

~~~

Alhaitham

“I will be home after sundown, habibti." Alhaitham places a gentle hand on your shoulder after he stands up from his chair at the dining room table. He lowers his head with a slight dip of his neck to place a kiss on the crown of your hair. “Be good today.” 

And then he is gone. 

Months have passed since your husband began staying late after work. You don’t understand it in the slightest, he hates doing unnecessary tasks. The entire time you’ve known him, courting and beyond, Alhaitham has always spared time in his day for his interests. One day, he even told you that his favorite part of each day was settling down to read. He likes to live a carefree and relaxed lifestyle, so staying late in the Akademiya seems like the complete opposite of that. 

Regardless, you bear the weight of your suspicions and ignore it. 

You focus on being the docile wife you were advertised as and focus on your housework. In truth, your arranged marriage could not have gone any better. Despite your parents parading you around, you somehow found the most laid-back candidate who suited your needs to a t. Every night you thank the Lesser Lord Kusanali for such a kind husband, who lets you come and go as you please. You would have probably hired a hit on your parents, as opposed to never speaking with them again, if they married you away to a cruel man. 

However, housework only keeps you busy for so long and before you know it, it is ten am and you have finished everything that you wanted to do for the day. You could go bother your husband’s old roommate or have a meal with your friend but, you notice that Alhaitham left his lunch today. The neatly prepared and packed lunch is still sitting on the counter where you left it. He must have forgotten to grab it. 

With ignorance only Alhaitham could have installed in you, a result of keeping you in the dark for so long, you head toward the Akademiya. However, you regret it once you speak with his co-workers. 

“Alhaitham is not here today.”

“Your husband? He didn’t come in this morning,”

“I heard he was heading to Port Ormos after speaking with the Gauhar.”

Through your dejection, you braced a kind smile and thanked them all before heading back home. What could your husband possibly be going to the port for? He’s not a student anymore, there’s no reason for him to be going there. 

Unless someone else is there. 

You stubbornly try to shake that negative thought out of your head as you walk through the marketplace. As if Alhaitham would commit something of adultery, he doesn’t show interest in anything or anyone. 

Perhaps, you will have to speak about this with him when he returns home. 

Returning home that night was not something Alhaitham did. In fact, he did not return back to you for two nights and only appeared on the third morning of his disappearance. 

To say that you were upset would be an understatement and your husband was able to see it the second he walks in through the door. 

“(Y/N), I know I have been gone-”

“Where have you been?” You don’t give him the chance to begin with the sorry apologies as you cross your arms over your chest, you get straight to the point. 

“It was for the Akademiya, I cannot discuss the matters with you and you know this.” He sounds sincere enough, there’s a tiredness to his words that you can’t pinpoint. “I wanted to check in with you before I returned.”

“Check in with me?” You scoff and start to look at him as if he had grown three heads. “Check in with me before returning to your mistress?” 

“My mistress?” Alhaitham raises a subtle brow and keeps a straight face despite the amusement growing in his chest. 

“Why else have you been gone so long? Staying out so late? I’m not a fool and personally, I don’t care about who else you see.” You lie straight through your teeth, lie until you choke. Alhaitham sighs before stepping closer toward you. 

“I really cannot share the details of this assignment just yet, you have to believe me, habibti.” He gently cups your shoulders, giving the area a soft squeeze before soothingly running over the planes of your back. “Listen to me when I say that I would never think of betraying you so cruelly.” And, before you have a chance to react, Alhaitham lowers his face to brush his lips against your ear. Vulnerability spills through his every word. “Please do not act so indifferent about the matter of us, I want you to care as freely about me as I do you.”

Smoothly, his hand cups your face and tilts you his way. 

“No matter what thoughts you may come up with on your own, trust the logic that I love you.”

Dottore

“The Doctor will return from his mission sometime next week, perhaps during the beginning of the new moon-”

During the message personally delivered from your husband by a trusted subordinate, you can’t help but audibly groan. 

“Why must he ruin my entire week with his presence? Did he specifically plan to return on Monday? Why couldn’t he have come back the following Saturday or Sunday?” You place your pen down with great irritation and with it, the notebook you were writing in slams shut. The large Fatui soldier stares down at you, quite flabbergasted by your actions. At the lack of response from your maids, he continues. 

“Well, The Doctor wanted to spend some time with you before his next mission-”

“You’re kidding?” This time, you stand up and slam your palms against the strong wooden desk. Hatred and frustration flow through your veins, nearly choking you by your throat. “When you receive word that he is on his way, within a day away from me, then you will come back here and tell me. Understand?” You and your shorter frame could not nearly pose up to the Vanguard standing before you but, given the status of your esteemed husband, you can speak with him and any other solider of your choice however you want.

“Yes, my lady.” He offers a respectful bow before leaving your office and does not flinch under the intensity of your unwavering glare. 

“My day is ruined.” You hum and try to calm yourself down by rolling out your shoulders. Within an instant your close friends (the maids assigned to you by your beloved) are by your side, offering you their condolences and support. “We must prepare for the torture that his arrival is ensured to bring. Where are my earplugs?” 

Each day that follows, you work alongside other members of the house to prepare the cozy home that your husband chooses to reside in. Cozy is a cute way of describing it, this castle that hides within the mountains is anything but cozy. It’s large and empty but, you rather enjoy all the empty space that provides shelter when you’re hiding from your husband. 

In the midst of your breakfast later in the week, you’re interrupted by another announcement. 

“My lady, The Doctor will arrive-”

“What do you want?” You scowl and push your plate away, lowering your utensils before standing up from your chair. Now, just like your week and the ones that follow, your meal is ruined too. “I do not care when that wretched vermin will arrive. Tell me when he is here and leave me alone.”

“That is the thing, my lady, he is here early.” As one of the Legionaries beside the previous Vanguard steps to the side, your husband moves in front of you. He stands tall on the other side of the long dining room table and you have half a mind to sprint for the door. “I did not have time to issue the previous warning you asked for.”

“Warning? Is that how you speak of me when I am not around?” Dottore tilts his head slightly before slowly walking around the table. You try not to shake as he corners you, hands braced behind his back. “Oh? Where has your attitude gone? Down the drain with your fight?” 

He doesn’t have to remove his mask for you to see the sneer on his face, the anger that is sure to be littering his features. 

“Dear,” You nervously greet him, offering a pathetic smile that does little to hide your nerves. 

“Sweetheart,” He greets back just as gently but, you can see the tension in his shoulders. “I must confess that I was thinking we would spend time with one another before my next trip to Sumeru but, now I'm not so sure.” 

But? You mentally pray and pray to the Tsaritsa that he changes his mind and ditches you altogether, that he leaves you alone again for months on end. Anything would be better than facing his wrath. 

“I don’t think we need to see one another for a while.” He waits for you to let out the breath you were holding in, to sigh in relief, before gripping your jaw with his gloved hand. “I think it would only be fair since you’ll now be coming with me to Sumeru. We can spend the entire trip together, side by side. Finally, you’ll be able to see my work up close and not just from your timid frame in the lab doorway.”

You can’t hide the way your lip begins to quiver, eyes filling with tears. That is the last thing you would ever want. 

“Aren’t you excited, my wife? You must be since you’re near bursting into tears!” He mocks you until your soul breaks, until the farthest place you could ever be from him is no longer far enough. “If this is how you act when we are apart then, you will never be from my side ever again.”

Pierro

“You are a blessing,” Pierro murmurs lowly as his hands delicately sculpt your sides, gently he presses into your skin with his thick fingers. “a divine creation.” Like this, he worships you. His lips lightly trail between the valley of your breasts as he ascends up your body. “Hundreds of years have passed since I’ve felt this alive.”

Pierro slowly drags his lips up your throat and over your jaw to hover above your lips. His breath fans your chin, teasing you with his close proximity. He laughs when you tilt your chin in an attempt to kiss him, but it fails. 

Regardless of how you care for your husband outside of your shared bedroom, you always love him inside of it. 

“Please,” Your quiet voice sounds like a melody to the older man and he nearly sighs at the sweet tone. This is all he has ever desired, you wanting and yearning for him. He knows his words will never be enough to get this point across, ever.

With a light hand, the man brushes any lingering strands of your hair out of your face. He stares down at you with lust-filled eyes before cupping your jaw with his large palm. Subtly, Pierro tilts your face upward and meets your lips in a passionate kiss. As he presses his mouth against your own, applying just the correct amount of pressure, his thumb gently strokes your cheek. It’s a sweet kiss, one that leaves you breathless and wanting more. 

Before he can catch himself and reel in his self-restraint, Pierro cups your breast. Your arms loop around his neck, digging your fingers into his broad shoulders as he fondles and squeezes at your chest. The constant stimulation only makes you greedier for more and your hips create a mind of their own as you roll slowly upwards against his pelvis. 

“My wife,” Pierro groans, pulling away momentarily to catch his breath. His voice sounds shaky as he tries to fight back the overwhelming desire to just take you right now. “enough, before you make me do something I’ll regret.”

The first of the eleven Fatui harbingers thinks he has himself under control finally, that he will be able to continue but then you glance up at him. In your young eyes, mischief shines brighter than the life in his own. 

“It’s alright if I don’t regret it, don’t you think?” And then you kiss him once more. You yank roughly on his neck, catching him off guard, and pull him down again. 

The growl that leaves your husband is animalistic. His sharp reflexes snap at your wrist, pinning you effectively to the bed without much room to move. The kiss of his lips, once sweet, turns possessive and greedy as he presses you into submission. With little fight, you obediently fall right into his open palms with your lips parting at the slightest jut of his tongue. 

Skillful hips roll against your own, Pierro’s hard cock grinds into your clothed cunt and the sensation against your sensitive clit makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. When you start failing to kiss back, Pierro makes his attack. He squeezes your wrists and shoves his tongue into your mouth, swallowing and taking all that you will give him. Your thighs are beginning to burn against the stretch of being spread for his muscular waist but, the pain is dulled over at each slot of his hips. 

Your pitiful whimper pulls him from his conquest and Pierro remorsefully separates himself from your lips. 

“I need you,” Your whisper does not fall deaf on his ears, Pierro hears every single word. No matter how much you make fun of the older man, poking at his true age, he’s sharpened every one of his skills beyond their years. 

“I know, my beloved, I know what you need.” His hands make you sigh out loud as they run up and down your waist, breathy moans leave your lips. “Do you understand the affection that I hold for you? Are you aware of the effect you have on me?” Pierro closely watches your reaction, stares as you keep your eyes closed and don’t so much as flinch at his words. You simply hum and lay like a blessing against his sheets. Now, the older man lowers his lips to your stomach and presses his mouth into your skin. He gently creates a path to the band of your panties with each kiss getting heavier than the last. 

“One day, you will understand the true extent of my feelings.”

Zhongli

Lately, you’ve been worried about your husband. Your concerns are nothing new or anything revolutionary but, you can’t speak about it to your friends or others who are unaware of his godly status. To deal with the matter, you sought out the one person you could discuss the matter with, one of the people who know him better than you do. 

“I’m worried about Zhongli,” You sit patiently at the stone table, in your husband’s seat as you confess your inner feelings to the cloud retainer. 

“Zhongli?” The bird rolls her eyes, tasting the name on her tongue before it clicks. “Morax. What is there to be concerned about? Foolish girl, he adores you.” The cloud retainer raises a judgmental brow at your timidness as she pours you a cup of tea. She sits down with an elegance that makes you feel small in her presence. Still, you proceed. 

If any of the adeptus are going to listen to you, it’s her. If there is a single one that you can trust, it is her. 

“Isn’t that the problem?” Truthfully, you have been worried about the upcoming and unforeseen future. You’re always worried about it. Not that you will disappear soon but, mortal lives are nothing compared to that of an adeptus. How will he fare when you pass? How can you prepare him for it? “What will happen to him when I inevitably-”

The aged bird cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence. 

“Speaking of such circumstances when they are nowhere in the near future will only come back to bite you.” Cloud retainer quietly sips at her drink, leaving a few moments of silence between the two of you before she sighs. “Fully cherish the time you have with him, that is the only piece of advice I can offer you.”

And that is as far as you go with her on the matter, the conversation was over.

Still, in your heart, you weren’t satisfied with the answer.

It continued to bug you even as you tried to ignore it, even as you tried to cherish the time you have with the immortal. 

“How are you today, my dear?” Every single day when he returns, Zhongli finds you and presses a delicate kiss on your cheek. It’s a kind gesture that always makes you melt into the palm of his hand. 

It also, more often than not, always leads to something else. Something more intimate. 

“Would you forgive me if I said that I missed you today,” Zhongli’s low voice fills your senses and clouds your mind, leaving you barely unable to think. Now pressed into the couch with your husband over top of you, protectively holding your thighs over his hips, all you can do is take everything that the god has to give you. “I’m often missing you when you are away.” 

His pure confessions make your gut twist in an uncomfortable way. 

“Will you be okay when I am no longer here?” You whisper, letting the words spill into his ears as you hide your face in his neck. 

Zhongli stops his movements. The gentle, smooth thrusts of his hips come to a standstill as his hands lower from your thighs. He places a palm beside your head and pulls back enough that he can look at you. 

“I will never be the same without you.” The raw emotion in his features and the distinct vulnerability in his eyes cause tears to well up in your eyes. “But, I will continue to live. Your memory will keep me alive until we can be reunited again.” His gentle touch comes up to wipe at your tears as his thumbs brush over your cheeks. “I don’t want you to be worried about that just yet, okay, my gem?”

Softly, Zhongli presses his lips against yours and it muffles the sob that leaves your lips. 

You tighten the grip that you have on his biceps, digging your fingers into his skin as your lips open for his tongue. 

“I love you, I will always love you forever.” He murmurs into your cheek before kissing over your eyelids. Smoothly, his hips pick up a slow pace once more and you gasp loudly. The sound makes your husband laugh, gently shaking as he presses his forehead against your own. “If I had my way, we would have met earlier and you would never part from my side.” 

In every touch, he portrays how much he loves you. There is an ‘I love you’ in the press of his fingers against your hips. There is an ‘I love you’ in the skillful roll of your hips and there is an ‘I love you’ in the gentle kiss of his lips. 

Yes, Zhongli is sure he will always love you. Even through grief and mourning, he will never forget the feeling of loving you. 

[captain-hawks]

Happy spicy sleepover 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

I feel like Wriothesley deserves to fuck someone’s face? Only you can tell me what that’s like.

Xoxoxo

@mojogojocasahouse

wriothesley x f!reader

c: rough oral sex, masturbation, 18+

-> spicy sleepover saturday

Wriothesley probably shouldn’t be doing this.

But with weeks worth of stress from unrest and issues running rampant throughout the prison weighing heavily on his shoulders, the space beneath his eyes dark from a lack of sleep and his mood equally bitter to match, he slipped today.

He slipped, his normally well-contained self control tumbling off the edge as your habitual verbal sparring struck a particularly raw nerve today when he paid a visit to your workstation in the Production Zone.

This was nothing new between the two of you—your dynamic a constant push and pull to see just how far you could push the Duke with your remarks, an endless spew of suggestive comments and argumentative, teasing statements designed to drive him up a wall. But you weren’t the first prisoner to shamelessly flirt with him, and you certainly wouldn’t be the last.

(And while he wasn’t wholly immune to his attraction to you, something he couldn’t deny, that was something he could handle alone with his hands in the privacy of his office.)

But today—today was a problem.

Today, Wriothesley had been absolutely intent on avoiding you, last night’s fantasy of your face covered in thick, hot ropes of his cum as his hips jerked hard into his tight fist still too fresh in his mind alongside a slew of aggravating tasks this morning. 

But his foul mood and waning restraint was no match for your remarks today (“Your Grace, I really think you need to get lai—”), the smirk on your face having only grown wider as he crowded you into a dark corner behind one of the machines and lowly growled, “I would truly love to know what a single fucking day of peace around here would look like, ideally one where you remember who I am, mind your words, and close your mouth for once.”

He should have known your reply wasn’t headed anywhere good, not when you’d taken your bottom lip between your teeth, tilting your head to the side slightly as you mused, “I mean, if you’d like to shut me up yourself, you’re more than welcome to.”

He’d snapped.

He shouldn’t fucking be doing this.

He shouldn’t be staring down at you kneeling down on the floor in front of him in his office, watching his cock disappear between your full lips.

He shouldn’t be inhaling sharply as you run your fingers over his balls, shuddering at the feeling of you moaning around his shaft. 

You’re a goddamn inmate under his watch—a prisoner nonetheless, despite the decidedly petty charges you’d been brought in for. 

(It’s neither here nor there that if he’d run into you above Fontaine’s depths, his gaze meeting your bright eyes and witty smile across a market stall, the two of you likely still would have ended up like this.)

(Somehow, somewhere.)

“I won’t break, you know,” you murmur, lips glossy with spit as you pop your mouth off of his cock and glance upward, lazily stroking him.

He stares down at you, something hot searing in his gut as you continue, “Shut me up like you mean it. I can take it.”

Something hot flares in his gut at the challenge in your words, the way you run your tongue over your bottom lip before engulfing his length in the wet heat of your mouth once more. But this time, you go further, taking the full length of his cock between your pretty lips and moaning as you begin to deep throat him.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, marveling at your clear lack of a gag reflex, one hand scrambling in the air for purchase before grasping the lip of his desk behind him.

His hips begin to involuntarily cant forward as you swirl your tongue around his shaft, saliva dripping down your face while you suck him off so deeply his balls are nestled against your chin. You reach out, grasping his free hand and placing it on the back of your head, and it’s then that he fully understands exactly what you intend for him to do.

His arousal flares white-hot, dangerous and molten as it floods his veins and douses the rest of his senses, whittling his thoughts down to a desperate, near feral need. 

Wriothesley gives one experimental thrust into your mouth, and the sultry, needy moan that vibrates along the pulsing length of his cock is all the encouragement he needs.

“Touch yourself,” he murmurs as he begins to fuck your mouth, the intensity of his pleasure only growing hotter at the sound of your zipper sliding down.

It’s the lewd squelch of your undeniably wet cunt—soaking wet for him—as you slip your fingers between your folds that sends Wriothesley past the point of no return, roughly fucking your mouth like his life depends on it. On filling your mouth with so much cum it overflows, dripping hot and sticky from between the barrier of your lips. 

He nearly forgets how to breathe as his pleasure reaches the precipice, his rock hard cock throbbing and aching with so much desperate pleasure he’s on the verge of blacking out, and your watery eyes meet his as you whimper around him, coming on your fingers. And then he’s coming hard down your throat—so hard that he’s not sure when the ropes of cum will cease to stop pouring out of him. And you’re not complaining, swallowing all that he gives you and milking his cock for every last drop.

When he finally pulls his half-hard shaft out of your mouth, one last thick spurt drips onto your lips, and you swipe it away, offering him a coy smile as you lick the cum off of your thumb and ask, “Feeling any better, Your Grace?”

[daturabouquet]

Defying the Doctor's Orders. 🧪

Dottore x Fearful!Reader

[Warnings: dubious consent to examination, spanking, intimidation, violence]

As the Second Harbinger's lover, you're no longer a normal citizen. You can no longer visit regular doctors either, but what a coincidence! Your lover is a "doctor"! He'll take care of your checkups.

If only you just followed his orders...

❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎ 𝐈𝐥 𝐃𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞 ❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎

"But dottore-!" You squirm, whining as he corners you. All you did was get a fever, and he's already all over you. Every single time you pass by his lab, you dread getting a glance of his examination room. The metal bed is always bloody, and you always hear screams coming from that room. Now, you're in their position. In that same exact room, screaming the same volume.

Dottore keeps on cornering you, blocking your every exit. "I thought you said you trusted me, (name)?" He tuts, grabbing your wrist with a death grip, enough to fracture your poor bones.

"I-I trust you as an individual but not as my doctor!" You quiver more, shaking like a leaf. Dottore sighs and gently coaxes you onto the hard metal bed, keeping his voice gentle and soothing. "Darling, I will never hurt you beyond what's necessary. I'd be quite disappointed if you keep fighting me off." He softly states.

As Dottore hoists you on the metal bed, you can't help but squirm even more despite his warnings, and you accidentally kick one of his nearby vials.

Shatter!

Color drains from your face. Your movements come to a halt as the doctor shows a very obvious toothy frown.

"If you were to be any other experiment you would have been dead." Dottore hisses through his teeth, now picking up something from under the table. "I reckon you'd prefer a less Doctor-like approach. I can do that dear." Dottore said, softly stroking your skin. "Let's try a disciplinary approach. Maybe giving you a clear consequence will get you to cooperate." Your curious eyes wander and finally catch a peek of what's in his other hand; a dreaded riding crop, formerly used to examine pain receptors. Dottore wants to exhaust you, swat away all of your energy for the sake of the examination. It's just a doctor's visit, he's doing this for your own good! Yet you fight him as if he's going to mutilate you. That's no way to treat your caretaker now, is it?

"D-dottore! Please- I-I'm scared-" You cry out, hopelessly begging to be set free. Kicking and crying won't help you, you know deep down just how cold-hearted your lover is. You know how he treats his "patients", and you worry deeply if he'll treat you the same.

Dottore sighs and kisses you on the lips, gently soothing your nerves. Before you can utter another word, he keeps on kissing you, gently laying you down. You can't fight back a kiss, especially one so gentle and warm. Dottore keeps pushing you down until your back finally meets the cold metal. You whimper, you can feel a panic attack coming up, but whatever thought that was in your mind went blank as your lover positioned you sideways facing him. Your face still close to his, but your bottom was exposed to the air, no longer pressed against the metal bed.

"D-dottore, w-wh-"

Your pitiful protest was cut off by a harsh swat to your poor rear.

"A-AH!" You yelp, only to be answered with another swat. You never thought your lover would ever do something like this.

Swat, Swat, Swat!

Your screams are muffled by his lips, which he clashed onto yours. Just when you thought you were safe and loved by the doctor, you get a little taste of what it's like to be truly under his control.

"Mmmph! Mm.. Mm!!"

Swat, Swat, Swat!

The sound of the rubber cracking down on your sensitive skin fills the room, along with your little sobs and sniffles.

"Why are you doing this-" You sob out, but the doctor only replies with a quick clasp to your mouth. What a great position to be in.

He shuts you up, while beating your ass senselessly with a riding crop.

"Hmm!-Mmm!!"

Your cries fall on his deaf ears.

"This is for your own good, dear."

Swat!

"I've had it with your defiance."

Swat!

"You deserve this treatment."

Swat!

--

Ten, twenty, thirty? Swats cracked down on you, tinting your skin a deep red. Your blue haired lover finally lets you go, with tears and drool running off your face. You can barely move, let alone struggle against him. Once he's happy with your state, he gently puts you into restraints, to prevent any more of your pathetic attempts. He snaps on a pair of clean medical gloves, before holding a flashlight.

His other hand forces your mouth to open up. With the sudden light hindering your sight, you know that you've lost, and you can only submit from this point on.

"Say Ahh..."

------

[aztecbrujeria]

His ass bounced off your hips, the recoil making it jiggle just right, the sounds of lube making that “squelch” echo. The way his hard dick and heavy sack slap against his lower belly while you reach around, resting your weight on his back, and stroke his slick shaft from base to tip. You watched his shoulders tense and his ass suck your silicone toy deeper inside.

The way every vein pulsed inside your too small hand while you twisted around his tip made your own pussy clench around nothing. You heard him whimper and moan like a bitch in heat before straightening up and pulling up a knee to really put your hips into it.

Gods the way he’s wrecked, drool spilling down his chin, tears streaming down his cheeks as you circle your hips and really thrust deep inside his gooey, stretched out hole…he looked so pretty wrecked and messy from the lube and false cum you filled his guts up with…

Itto, True form Sukuna, Toji, Choso, Kenjaku, Kaveh, Wriothesley, König, Bokuto, Keiji, Kuroo, Tendou, Atsumu, Osamu, Link, Cloud, L, Izuku, Shinso, Tighnari

[ticklygiggles]

Ten minutes in heaven | Wrioney [n$fw]

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY IN THE AFTERNOON WONDERFUL FABI @lovelynim! I hope you enjoy this little gift! It's my first time working Wrioney, I hope I made them justice and you like this! I LOVE YOU ❤️

Summary: Wriothesley not only stood him up, but also ghosted him. It's only Lyney is so mad. 

Words: 2k+

“Sigewinne, let me out! I'm not kidding!” 

“Nope.” The sweet voice came from outside. “I'm tired of listening to you both bickering, so you'll both stay there until you reconcile.” They couldn't see her, but Sigewinne nodded, proud of herself. “Or else you won't get out. I'll be back in ten minutes.”

00:01:00

Lyney whined, pressing his forehead against the wooden door. If he had known that his visit to the Fortress of Meripide would end with him locked in that small closet with the person he least wanted to be around at that moment– well, he wouldn't have gone in the first place.

Besides, he had only gone for one reason: he wanted to fight. He wanted to argue with the administrator of the place, also called Wriothesley, also called his boyfriend. Turning his head slightly, he looked at Wriothesley standing behind him, arms crossed above his broad chest, with his imposing stature and his warm eyes fixed on Lyney. Lyney frowned, also crossing his arms and leaning his back against the door. Wriothesley chuckled and a deep blush spread across his cheeks from pure anger; he bared his fangs in a snarl, glaring at the other man. 

“What?!” 

Wriothesley shook his head softly, “are you really that mad at me, kitten?” 

Somehow, Lyney felt heat radiating from his vision, he was ready to attack at any second. “Don't call me that! I hate you so much, get me out!” 

Wriothesley chuckled again, shrugging his shoulders. “I can't. Sigewinne has the key and I'm not planning on destroying my office.”

“Hmph!”

00:02:07

Lyney couldn't decipher the emotion in Wriothesley's eyes. Something between sadness and tenderness and shame and love– he couldn't stand looking at him anymore and he closed his eyes, turning his head. 

“Listen, kitten-” 

“Don't call me that.”

“Lyney, I'm truly sorry about what I did,” Wriothesley said, gently touching Lyney’s elbow, but the magician jerked away. “You know my work here is not easy, I truly wanted to be there on time, but then Neuvillette came by and I had to take care of some stuff and-”

“It's not just that!” 

Lyney hated that he felt his eyes tearing up. He was used to Wriothesley's rudeness, but knew it was not on purpose. It was true that his job wasn't exactly an easy one, and Lyney forgave every time Wriothesley missed one of their dates or arrived ridiculously late, because he understood, he really did. But just because he knew that Wriothesley's job kept him busy most of the time, Lyney made sure to invite him to a super important show he was having months in advance, and he made sure to remind Wriothesley every single week, every single day and he promised so sure of himself that he was going to be there. 

But of course, he wasn't, but the worst thing was that it had been two weeks since that day and Lyney had heard absolutely nothing from Wriothesley in all that time! He even thought that something bad had happened to him, but what was his surprise when he found him stuck in his office; when their eyes met, Wriothesley didn't even seem surprised to see Lyney and greeted him as he normally did. Wasn't that too much?! 

“I can't believe you treated me like that. And you know it's not only about you not coming to see my show, but you just not reaching me in two whole weeks! Do you know how worried I was?!” 

“I'm so sorry, I really have no excuse for that,” Wriothesley said sincerely, scratching the back of his head. “I thought you'd be really angry with me, so I wanted to give you your space, but… I think I messed up even more.”

“Yes you did!” Lyney wiped the tears from his cheeks angrily, and taking a single step forward, he encountered Wriothesley's body and punched him in the chest. “I felt so bad! I thought you didn't want to see me anymore! You're so stupid, Wriothesley!” 

Perfect, now he was really crying. Lyney whined and growled when Wriothesley suddenly hugged him, pressing him tightly against his chest. He struggled, trying to break free from the embrace, he didn't want to be comforted, he wanted Wriothesley to know that he had made him feel terribly bad! 

“I'm truly sorry, Lyney,” Wriothesley said softly, his deep voice against Lyney's ear making him shiver. “I was just careless and stupid. I truly wanted to go see you, but I didn't dare– I didn't know how to face you and what to say to you after promising for months that I would be there. I'm sorry, kitten.” 

Lyney pressed his face against Wriothesley’s chest and cried. The last two weeks had been hell for him. Had Wriothesley stopped loving him? Had he missed Lyney's show because he never  wanted to see him again? Worse yet, had something happened to him? Did he get into an accident when he was on his way to the show? A thousand and one thoughts ran through his mind, they didn't let him sleep, eat, and sometimes even breathe. He was afraid to go to the Fortress of Meripide because he didn't want to know if something bad happened to Wriothesley, but in the end he did and to find him there… just working. 

“I was scared! I hate you so much, Wriothesley!” 

That was a lie, of course he didn't hate him, on the contrary, the only reason he was there was because he loved him desperately. His heart longed to see him safe and sound, he wanted to be in Wriothesley's arms again and hear his voice. Lyney just couldn't hate him because he loved him too much. 

Wriothesley gently cupped his flushed, wet cheeks, his thumbs gently rubbing under his eyes to wipe the falling tears away. He pressed a tender kiss to Lyney’s forehead, then his nose and the corner of his mouth before pressing their foreheads together. 

“Please forgive me, Lyney. Just this once. I promise I'll do better.” 

Lyney whined, his eyes crossing a little as he tried to look at Wriothesley’s. “I just want you to let me know you won't come and if you're okay! I understand about your stupid job!” 

Wriothesley chuckled and Lyney couldn't help but smile, gently hitting his arm. “You are so stupid!” 

00:04:45

Wriothesley nodded, “I am. I missed you very much, kitten.” 

Lyney pouted and with a smile, Wriothesley kissed his lips. A small, chaste kiss that made Lyney feel butterflies, but a small kiss like that wasn't enough for the two weeks they hadn't seen each other. Lyney wrapped his arms around Wriothesley's waist and brought him close to him, his tongue pushing between the other's lips, making him gasp into Lyney's mouth. Wriothesley grabbed the back of Lyney's head, tilting his head back slightly so he could kiss him better. A war broke out within their mouths; gasps and soft moans escaped their lips as they hungrily devoured each other. 

Lyney felt light-headed, breathless. His heart was beating fast, bouncing within his chest. He had missed Wriothesley's passionate kisses so much, his strong hands holding his face, the warmth of his body against him. He had missed it so much. He opened one of his eyes, his sight slightly blurry with tears; Wriothesley's expression was a sight to behold… but why was he looking so happy after the torture he made Lyney go through? He had forgiven him, but would he get out of this without being punished? Of course not! 

Lyney tapped his fingers against Wriothesley’s waist, between those fierce kisses, Wriothesley barely noticed the light touch on his waist, but it was very different when Lyney pressed that super sensitive spot just above Wriothesley's hips. 

00:05:37

Wriothesley gasped, quickly pulling apart and grabbing Lyney's shoulders to push him away. “What are you- ngh!” His words got stuck in his throat, Lyney was smirking widely.

“What? Did you really think I won't punish you? Silly Duke.” 

Wriothesley opened his mouth to say something else, but Lyney pressed against him, cornering him against the wall as his light fingers clawed at Wriothesley’s hips, making him jump and break into loud laughter. He arched his back, but Lyney simply pressed against him tighter, one of his legs between Wriothesley's. He always found it funny how a big guy like Wriothesley became almost useless when tickled; even someone small like Lyney could manhandle him a bit like this. 

Wriothesley's hands tried to push Lyney away, but when his nimble fingers moved under his arms, Wriothesley pressed his arms to his sides, laughing brightly. He squirmed and begged between gasps and laughs and squeals for Lyney to stop, but his pleas fell in deaf ears. 

“Ah, so your armpits are still really ticklish, hmm? What about here?” 

“N-NoHOho! K-KihiHIhitten, plehehease!” 

Snorty giggles left his mouth when Lyney started to wiggle his fingers against the sides of his neck, a sweet spot the magician especially loved. It made Wriothesley so desperate, his laughter panicking and his squirming intensifying. It seemed completely torturous to him and Lyney couldn't help but feel a little sadistic seeing Wriothesley's state. He was flushing already, even crying as he mercilessly tickled his neck and- oh? 

00:06:40

“You are disgusting, Wriothesley. Why are you grinding against my thigh? Ah, I see, you liked your tickles too much?” 

Wriothesley shook his head, going crazy with the tickling on his neck. His hands lacked the strength to push Lyney's fingers away, and Lyney laughed.

“S-Stohop, PLEHEASE, I- NGH!”

“You don't want me to stop,” Lyney purred, the maddening tickling stopping so he could palm Wriothesley's hardening cock above his clothes. “You're not supposed to enjoy your punishments, Wriothesley.” Lyney wrapped the red tie around his hand and pulled at it, bringing Wriothesley’s face close to his. “I really should show you how pissed I am with you, hmm?” 

“K-Kitten,” Wriothesley gulped, his teary eyes blinking and trying to find a way out. Lyney smirked. “I s-said I'm sorry. And you said… you forgave me.” 

Lyney shrugged, “and I did, but you need to learn your lesson. Do not mess with me again, Wriothesley.” 

Wriothesley gasped when Lyney suddenly dropped on his knees in front of him, his fingers hooking on the waistband of his pants and the elastic of his underwear and pulled them down to his knees at once. Wriothesley whimpered and he tried to cover his half hard dick, but Lyney slapped his big hands away and took Wriothesley’s cock between his smaller hands. 

His cock wasn't even half its usual size, but Lyney knew what to do. He lifted the cock with one hand and his tongue traced a warm, wet path of saliva from Wriothesley's balls to the tip. Wriothesley's legs shook and he pressed a hand against his mouth to keep from making a sound. Lyney laughed, closing his mouth around the tip and circling with his tongue. The salty taste of precum exploded in his mouth as his hand moved up and down slowly, stroking the growing length. 

“L-Lyney,” he moaned, his voice muffled behind his hand. 

“There we go,” Lyney said, pulling the cock out of his mouth with a pop and it kept up, moist and dripping. “That was fast, huh? Were you pent up? Did you miss me during these two weeks? You just wanted to fuck me, right?” He slapped the tip of Wriothesley's cock and he trembled, a deep moan leaving his mouth. 

“I- I didn't only miss f-fucking you, I-”

“You didn't? I don't believe you,” Lyney said with a shrug, his hand wrapping around Wriothesley's cock again, stroking him fast. “I think you just wanted to put this thing on my butt all these days.” 

Wriothesley shook his head, grunting and moaning, his hips circling and thrusting. Lyney smirked, oh his poor Wriothesley was so close to cum. He really was pent up, hmm? What a shame~

00:08:59

“No you can't.” Lyney stopped, his hands moving away, and Wriothesley cried, clenching his dick as trying to reach his peak, but it was useless. 

“H-Huh?! W-Why not?!”

Lyney pouted, looking at Wriothesley's cock as the tip of his finger tapped against the wet head, making it twitch. “It's frustrating right?” Lyney pressed a kiss to the tip and looked up at Wriothesley. “That's how you make me feel, Wrio. So. Frustrated.” 

Lyney stuck his tongue out and licked the salty precum before pushing the whole length into his mouth. Wriothesley was huge, but Lyney wasn't scared of it anymore, rather he was hungry. Wriothesley moaned loudly, his hands moving to grip at Lyney's hair. The magician frowned and slapped at the hands, pushing them away from him as he started to bobble his head, sucking Wriothesley. One of his hands gripped Wriothesley's thighs to keep his balance while the other started to tickle his balls.

Wriothesley gasped. “Nngh! H-Hold on! Hold ohohon! D-dohon't tickle me t-tohoo!”

He squirmed and Lyney frowned, pressing his hand against Wriothesley's hip to keep him in place. 

“L-Lyney… ah! Ah! I'm c-cumming. I'm- 

“Phaw!” 

00:09:15

“N-No, please! Le-Let me cum, please. Please!” Tears of despair fell down Wriothesley's cheeks. Oh, Lyney loved seeing him so desperate. He smiled angelically. 

“Ow, you wanted to cum, Wrio? I'm so sorry, I had no idea!” Lyney raised, placing Wriothesley's cock between his legs, making him hiss. “You really wanted to cum?” He whispered against Wriothesley's lips and he nodded desperately. “I really wanted to see you these two weeks.” 

Wriothesley whined, “I'm sorry, Lyney. I'm s-sorry- anh!” 

Lyney began to move his hips, squeezing Wriothesley's cock between his thighs. The duke moaned, his eyes crossing. Lyney smirked, his fingers flicking Wriothesley's hardened nipples over his suit. “Are you feeling well, your excellency?” Wriothesley shuddered, nodding as his breathing became erratic. He was close again. “Oh no, his excellency is going to cum, does he deserve it?” 

“Yes! Yes, please don't stop, please, I-”

00:10:03

“I am back! Are you guys reconciled?” 

Wriothesley gasped and Lyney giggled when he pressed him tightly against him, but he pulled away, leaving his cock twitching with yet another ruined orgasm. 

“What a shame, you were so close, Wriothesley,” he whispered, shrugging and winking at him before turning around. “We're ready, Sigewinne, we're good again.”

“Great! Then I'll open the door.” Lyney heard the key turning in the bolt and the padlock opening, Sigewinne's small hand closed around the knob and she turned it, trying to open it. ‘'Huh?! Why can't I open it?!” 

A wide smile appeared on Lyney's face as a hand pressed against the door, right next to his head.

“Sorry, Sigewinne,” Wriothesley said, his voice strained. “We still… need to talk.”

“Ah I see,” Sigewinne said, leaving the knob. “Then I'll let you to it then. I'll be back in another ten minutes!” 

They both heard small footsteps walking away and then the office door opening and closing. Lyney laughed softly. 

“Do you need something, Wrio?” 

00:01:01

“Yes and we have ten minutes for it.” Lyney gasped when Wriothesley pulled his shorts and underwear down, freeing his hard cock. A finger touched his butthole and he whimpered, holding onto the door. “Let's see how much you missed me, Kitten.” 

Lyney purred. “I wonder~” 

Lyney wondered if ten minutes would be enough to satisfy Wriothesley… and himself after being away for two whole weeks. Ah, make-up sex was always the best.

[jessamine-rose]

⋆˚♱ଘ Requiem for the Damned ଓ♱˚⋆

*holds head in hands* Idk why Dottore keeps haunting me with writing inspo. And for this idea to manifest just before Holy Week….fuck it, I hope you all enjoy the blasphemous tale of Priest! Dottore x Demon! Darling _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):

Tw:: yandere, violence, death, religious abuse, dubcon, mention of nsfw, MINORS DNI

Note:: fictional depictions of religion

♡ 2.7k words under the cut ♡

♡ Despite your status as a wandering demon, you have no place in human cognizance. Rather, you conceal yourself from mortal eyes in favor of close observations and whispered temptations. Humans, from your perspective, are interesting creatures—they are ambitious, easily influenced by spiritual beings, capable of both good and evil.

♡ And what better example than the one who summoned you on a starry night? Such rituals are not uncommon amongst heretics, but most only succeed in invoking the contempt of their fellow humans. And few would invoke your name, much less commit sacrilege within the walls of the Church.

♡ You sense danger immediately upon your appearance. Within the summoning circle, you take note of your sigil perfectly illustrated in blood against marble. Beyond it, what alarms you is not your sacred surroundings nor the fresh corpse mixed with your offerings of books and fruit. It is the figure standing over you, cloaked in moonlight, gazing at you with eyes the color of hellfire.

“My ritual is a success. Welcome to my humble church, o noble demon…or would you rather be addressed by your epithet? ______, Fallen Seraph, the Seeker of Forbidden Knowledge.”

♡ A glimpse into his soul is all it takes to strike fear into your heart. Within Hell, there are rumors of a small village in Sumeru. Its people are nothing of note, a congregation of simpletons whose lives revolve around the beliefs of their Church. The lone exception is the main priest, Father Zandik, better known as Il Dottore.

♡ The stories, passed through human voices, speak of a child ostracized for his unconventional beliefs and his interest in the macabre. Branded a madman, he was placed in the care of the Church elders who corrected his ways of thinking. Once he became of age, Zandik was given the choice to move out of the rectory or to remain as a priest; he chose the latter of his own volition.

♡ Since his ordination, Zandik has proved himself to be an exceptional priest. He educates the masses, reviews theological texts, performs exorcisms, and provides religious counsel for the doubtful. He even serves as the town’s doctor, fully gaining the acceptance of his community.

♡ The rumors don’t stop there. For Il Dottore earned his title by performing miracles. It is he who guides the people into religious ecstasy, he who cures the sick from mysterious curses, he who blesses the weak into “enhanced humans.” There are already whispers that once Dottore’s mortality catches up with him, he will surely be canonized as the Patron Saint of Doctors and Miracles.

♡ But spiritual beings such as yourself know the truth. That Dottore is neither a kind priest nor a devout believer, that his days in the Church only magnified his heretical inclinations. Disillusioned with God, Zandik decided to turn His religious sanctuary into his own laboratory, one where he could fulfill his lust for knowledge through a mask of holiness.

♡ He manipulates the people with false teachings. He triggers religious ecstasy with drugged incense. He singles out devotees to “test their faith” during the quiet hours of the Church. And what the town perceives as curses and miracles are actually scientific experiments in which Dottore plays god.

♡ It’s too late to escape. No matter your divine powers, nothing prepares you for Dottore’s traps. The incantations, the barrier of the summoning circle, an aura so holy yet sinister that it couldn’t possibly come from ordinary religious objects—all you can do is fall to your knees and beg for his mercy, all the while he watches you with a confident smile.

♡ His intentions are like that of any human: He summoned you to form a contract. In exchange for his soul, he demands your knowledge, your resources, your full servitude for so long as he roams the mortal plane. Your hesitation only triggers another wave of scorching pain, followed by panic as Dottore grips your horn and forces you to face him.

“Make no mistake, ______. The mere fact of your divinity does not make you indestructible. In exchange for your cooperation, you will bear witness to experiments of the same magnitude as God’s creations. What say you?”

♡ You have no other choice. And that is how, in the sanctity of the Church, you make a deal with the human named Zandik. Once the pact has been forged, Dottore admires the bright sigil on his chest, plucks a few feathers from your wings, and disables the summoning circle so you can leave. Thus begins your personal hell.

♡ It is easy for you to answer Dottore’s questions about the divine. The horror lies in assisting him in experiments, responding to his summons no matter the inconvenience, allowing him to extract your blood, tears, and feathers. No, what’s most humiliating is when he uses your body for his “research,” bending you over the altar and bringing you to physical ecstasy against your will.

♡ At this point, you don’t know who to pray to. One night, Dottore shows you a secret room in his laboratory. As soon as he lights the lamps, your eyes take in numerous bodies and skeletons of a different classification from his usual victims. The extra bones jutting from the scapulas, the amputated wings, the halos pinned to the walls, the holy aura you’d felt from his religious objects…instantly, Dottore’s powers make sense.

“This is my first specimen. She was my guardian angel…no, I jest. She was a mere messenger who implored me to repent for my sins. From her words, I deduced it had been within Heaven’s capacity to save me during my youth—and yet God only sent an angel to me after my first act of blasphemy.”

The angels…how many has he killed? Not even during your fall from Heaven did you feel such primal fear for your life. But you cannot scream—you have long been trained to resist fight and flight. All you can do is listen to Dottore’s explanation, watch as he approaches a pure white skeleton and wraps his hands around its fractured hyoid bone.

He gives you a calm smile. “Luckily, her body provided me with indispensable resources for my experiments and my procurement of her brethren. I believe her name was Sohreh.”

♡ Just when you think it can’t get any worse, Dottore points at the far corner of the room to reveal a space dedicated to demons. Four dead bodies, their causes of death vividly described. Horns, wings, and other body parts amputated in exchange for lives spared after exorcisms. And when Dottore returns to your side, tracing the wound from where he broke off your horn, you can only tremble and acquiesce to a checkup. It grows back fully by the end of the year.

♡ He has his moments of vulnerability, however. Perhaps it is due to your nature as a demon, a creature which represents evil, that Dottore does not hide his heart from you. Once, after his usual confessions—he always makes up trivial sins—he remains in the confessional until his fellow priest has left. Then he goes to the altar and summons you.

♡ What catches you off-guard is not his lack of greetings. Rather, it’s the way he pulls you close to his body, lips ghosting the curve of your ear. There, in the heart of the Church, he whispers to you every sin he has ever committed. Despite his normal tone of voice, his words have never betrayed a language so guiltless, so sincere, so human.

♡ He asks how much of his madness is to blame on the influence of demons, or if he had been born wicked. He asks if humans were truly given the mental faculties to withstand temptation regardless of their circumstances. He asks if the same can be said for spiritual beings, questioning why former angels like you were also created with the capacity to sin. He even asks if praying for a demon can offer them any hope of salvation.

♡ It takes you a while to answer his questions. It’s just like him to put your emotions in disarray, to make you feel pity for the very cause of your current suffering. Against your nature, you wonder if there is still a chance for Zandik, if he can somehow repent or find a way to save himself from your contract and all of his sins. Even if it is too late, He has always been more forgiving to humans than angels.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨

“Do you know why I became a demon, Zandik?”

Your question is what prompts Zandik to pull away from you, though his touch lingers. His gaze, as always, is unfathomable; you can never discern what hides within those pools of crimson.

“No, I do not. Few demonological texts allude to your existence, and only the Lesser Key of Deshret cites your previous status as an angel of the highest ranking. I have made theories in relation to your epithets but I respect all possibilities. Now what would you, as the primary source, reveal to me?”

Now it is your turn to confess.

“Seraphim are the closest to God but for that reason, we are the most distant from His creations. Everything we know of the world is derived only from what He tells us, not our own insights. And so I defied His Word and ate the forbidden fruit from the Tree of Knowledge, committing the same sin which condemned all of humanity.”

The tip of your upper wing brushes against Zandik’s face, while your middle wings encircle his body in a loose hug. As for your lower wings…they are nothing but twin scars covered in short feathers. After your descent, it seemed like a rational decision to chop them off, broken as they were. It helped that your wings had just outgrown their original purpose.

For once, you barely flinch at the sensation of his touch against your scars. Many times, Zandik has inquired about the loss of your lower wings and even asked if he could have them. They still remain in Hell, tucked away in a corner of your home, eyes forever closed.

It takes a few seconds for him to respond. “Do you ever regret your decision?”

You shrug. “It was difficult at first, naturally. Many of my eyes were blinded—yes, that is why I rarely open the ones on my wings—but those which still function have seen so many wonderful sights up-close. Neither must I cover my face with my remaining wings. And despite being what your kind and my former brethren would dub a monster…I’m happier now.”

“I see, I see.” His curiosity appears far from sated, however, a sentiment you can empathize with. “As I thought, God is incomprehensible. For Him to deny even His greatest creation of salvation…it confirms that there are limits to the forgiveness of that which humans call a ‘loving god.’ Thank you for sharing this knowledge with me.”

And just as quickly as he initiated his confession, Zandik steps out of your grasp and dismisses you. But you make no haste, silently watching him after you “leave.”

His expression is thoughtful. A gloved hand touches his chest, right above your sigil.

Such an interesting creature.

Honestly, you don’t know what to make of your feelings for this human. Much as you despise his cruel treatment towards you, he never fails to capture your interest with his experiments and philosophies. Whenever he speaks of God, you wonder if a small part of him still desires to be saved. But that will never be.

Zandik preaches salvation with the knowledge that he will never receive it. For the Church never taught him how to love.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨

♡ Il Dottore never became the Patron Saint of Doctors and Miracles. Neither did he have a funeral mass befitting of a priest, nor a peaceful death from natural causes. Instead, he died young, laicized, once again denounced as a heretic by his community.

♡ You don’t know how his crimes were exposed, and why now. Perhaps it is God’s punishment for him, a blessing for his victims, or both. Either way, Dottore paid for his sins on a sunny day, burned at the stake before a disdainful crowd. Not long after his heart stopped beating, his belongings were thrown into the fire—research, tools, anything which carried his memory.

♡ You never left his side. After his last rites, led by an elderly bishop who condemned Zandik as he did in the past, you sat next to him and offered a final conversation. He didn’t express any fear nor sadness in regards to his imminent death, merely stating it a pity that his achievements could never be appreciated in his town.

♡ …He did ask if there is any chance of meeting again in Hell, but you reminded him that the punishment of sinners is out of your jurisdiction. Plus, it’s better that way—you have no desire to avenge yourself, and you’d rather not witness Zandik’s suffering for all eternity. You can only imagine the severity of his punishment, what more if he is assigned to one of the demons he exorcized.

♡ During his execution, you stood at the front of the crowd. You kept your eyes trained on him, for so long as his scarlet orbs remained open, whispering the prayers for the dead on his behalf. While a part of you felt liberated, another was mournful. You hope your last words to Zandik gave him solace in his final moments.

“Rest now, Zandik. God may never forgive your sins, but I shall.”

♡ And thus ends the life of Il Dottore. In the following days, the Church is purged of its holy, sinister aura, mainly because they discarded the religious objects tainted with angel remains. You continue your usual obligations as a wandering demon, but the humans you observe pale in comparison to your companion of many years.

♡ Not long after, you return to Hell for your other divine duties. As soon as you appear in your abode, however, something feels off. The sinister aura, the offering of books and fruit, your lower wings gone from their original place… The answer comes in the form of a hand grabbing you by the horn, pulling you backwards, twisting your body to meet a familiar gaze the color of hearth-fire. Only, this time, those eyes are brimming with pure joy, paired with a genuine smile.

♡ Apparently, Dottore’s soul did end up in Hell but not in the way you expected. In a proud voice, he explains that the Devil gave him a special fate. Whether it was due to vacant positions or everyone’s fear of the infamous “Demon-Killer,” you’ll never know. What Dottore does confirm is that as the demon bound to him via contract, you have to take responsibility and act as his companion in Hell.

“Rather than subject me to eternal suffering, the Devil believed that my talents would prove useful for the punishments of my fellow sinners. How wonderful is it for my achievements to be recognized in Hell? …Oh? I didn’t predict such a physical reaction from you. All of your eyes are wide open, and you seem to be on the verge of fainting.”

♡ You don’t know if you want to laugh or cry. To think your personal hell has been extended to eternity—are your sins enough to warrant such a fate?! But after confirming your misfortune, all you can do is sigh and tend to Zandik. He looks exactly the same, with the exception of a few burn scars on his body. And judging by the familiar black feathers on his person, he seems eager to discard his former religious attire along with his mask of faith.

♡ And when Zandik unfastens his scorched cassock, he takes your hand and places it on his unburned chest, right above your sigil. It glows vibrantly, brighter than any light you laid eyes on in Heaven. And beneath the flesh, you can feel his heart beating in sync with yours.

“Tell me, ______, do I still appear human to you?”

“You already know my answer to that question. But fine, I’ll admit it: Yes, you always have.”

♡ 

More Church AU here!! Capitano ๑ Arlecchino ๑ Pantalone

Note:: Please do not send me any Church AU asks/ requests involving other characters or dynamics who are not listed in my masterlist.

At long last, I am free from Priesttore…thank you to everyone. To my readers, to my fellow Dottore simps, to my mutuals who indulged my tortured DMs after midnight, to the artist whose fan art inspired this idea to begin with. May you all have a lovely day╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

Tag a Dottore enjoyer!! @leftdestiny-posts @beloved-blaiddyd @mochinon-yah @diodellet @lcveaesop @oofasleep @bye-bye-sunbird @yandere-romanticaa @boundinparchment @harmonysanreads @teabutmakeitazure @yandere-wishes @yanmaresu @nicebonescomrades @nimandu @lesanyanyas @moarar