akunoniwa

[akunoniwa]

Purgatory

AN: life has been life-ing and ive been a wee bit uninspired, but this idea struck me so please accept this curse

I guess this is becoming somewhat of a 'series' of mine, so maybe expect more of these in addition to Gaap and Dantalion, we shall see.

Synopsis: In which your local voyeuristic demon gets a little too close, driving you mad from the inside out

Pairing: Dantalion (Ars Goetia) x fem!reader

Warnings: MDNI, a local demon gets in your head and teases u to his hellish desire

WC: ~3.5k

You’d not initially notice his presence, as goes with any entity akin to him, though he had his means of showing himself. Or rather exposing you to himself.

Truth be told, he’d not often indulge in something so menial, and often tedious, as lust and desire, preferring to adorn his mind with more ‘technical’ ideas… However, the more he realized his natural tendency to abstain, the more curious he became about this part of himself… Sex is inherently science. Methodical yet, at face value, requires almost no attention to what one may consider scholarly. Many of his fiendish acquaintances take utmost and sole pride in such helpless dallying, even despite their grandiose roles in Hell, you’d think lesser demons would be more prone to indulge. It’s those very demons, even further down in the gallows, that aren’t allowed to frisk around even with the scum on Earth, only leaving such privileges to demonic ‘royalty’. Not until they learn to bullshit their way to the top of the bottom.

Above all, he recently learned that he loved to toy with your mind.

How you were chosen as the victim was truly random… He likes to tell himself this. Countless humans think they can withstand the allure of ascending, or descending, beyond their plane of existence, you being one of them. Merely speaking oneself into alignment, simply taking interest in a certain demon’s name can tickle the hairs in their pointed ears.

Your mind wandered endlessly for a few consecutive nights, hooked on a filthy idea you’d read in a sleazy novel, but somehow his name kept appearing. This was your own invasive mind, at first, your readings colliding into a cesspool of blatant pornography and mindless, esoteric interests. Though, he heard his name, damn near right against both his sensitive ear and aching abdomen, and was immediately intrigued.

He can manipulate one's thoughts, usually used in the context where a conjurer can wield it for the sake of their own, contractually-bound means, but this time… He decided to stray, readily addicted as if he’d been restraining himself for centuries.

He ensured these thoughts were as vivid and as piercing as looking into the sun, these lewd images that you’d cycle through, invading your mind, gradually possessing you. When you’d finally set whatever mindless thing you were doing aside for the night, your lamp would click off. Your mind settled into the grooves in the asphalt once more, hands lingering too low for too long to be earnest. All remotely as he’d write down his fantasies by way of an ornate fountain pen into his journal at his desk, engraving them into your psyche, into your pliable body.

He’d started by simply guiding your hands in a fashion where you’d not likely notice, able to feel the murky heat through your hands on his own. You were beautifully bare, though he’d only see through the eyes that were your palms as he’d coax you through subtle incantations to feel up every inch of you. Your skin was so incredibly soft, your delicate, silk sheets paling in comparison as you writhed beneath what appeared to be your own movements. Almost reminiscent of clouds that’d slowly morph as they crossed the sky, gradually groping yourself into oblivion as you swam in pleasure. Your breasts were scalding, plush, and hypnotizing as he made you squeeze them, making sure to pinch and roll your rosy, pointed nipples between your fingers. He learned that a part of you would promptly shut down should he linger there too long, keeping that information close.

You’d begin to whine and moan, all alone in your darkened room, he swore he felt your voice resonate through his cock, wishing he could present you as the true fallen gift that you were to the entirety of Heaven, Hell, and all between. He was starting to have trouble penning all this down as the sensations were transcribed into his body. What if you called to him just once…? Would you wonder where that name came from? Surely you’d not be able to tell, and perhaps you’re too aroused to care… Just once? Being a demon, he wasn’t accustomed to the cold sweats that overcame him at this thought.

He forced his name into your mind as you were nearing a point of no rational return, sure to maintain the buzz as he made you tease yourself. You started this, though, right? You were the one thinking about the cheap scene of getting fucked in some fictional library that you’d read about, fucked by some human no doubt. You were the one who was too curious for her own good… He needed to hear your small whine, taut with lust, blotted with his name.

“Dantalion…” Synchronized, you sang this as he had you push your hand down the gentle hills of your front, simply pressing a fingertip onto your clit.

“My…” He’d stopped writing, overwhelmed with how delicious that sounded, the need to touch himself growing extremely hard to resist, though he’d not be able to continue lacing your demise legibly. He began to long for you unlike anything else, your pretty body… The lovely cunt that beckoned for him, and so easily at that.

He made you chant it once more, your voice a phantom hand of its own, like a delicate ribbon decorating the length of his susceptible cock, pulling and constricting him. His lines became skewed as he noticed the evident smile in your tone, enjoying every little depraved moment of this.

You managed to gain just enough control of your limbs to push a pair of fingers into your sopping hole, “God…” You complained to the alleged heavens, exasperated. You chose to hold them there to serve simply as a means to fill you, something to clench onto as your other hand traced around your clit.

Of course, you’d plead to a God by default, but he wanted nothing to do with that, he wanted your swollen lips to serve him and him alone. 

What if he tried just…

Your groans of utter delight indicated that his curling of your fingers inside you was the right move, fluttering up against your sweetest spot. Hooked to ensure your disintegration, he made you repeatedly, though slowly, pull your fingers up to assault your delectable little cunt. Perfect. Your face began to bleed with heat as you were catching on to your lack of obvious control, fear encircling you as it was merely an inkling of fantasy at first. It was certain now, as he pushed you to maintain this motion beyond where you would’ve chosen to edge yourself before it became too much.

“So wet…” He allowed this thought to be delivered to your vacant mind in his voice, “You’re putting on such a darling show for me, love.”

Your reflex trumped his possession briefly, covering your mouth as the sensation was becoming too much to bear as he increased the speed. Anxiety battled with absolute pleasure inside you as you were trying to convince yourself that this was still a part of your own consciousness. A voice you’d never heard before, crooning so perfectly from inside you… You were losing your grip as your fingers stammered inside, wetness coating your palm.

“That’s it, my pretty little thing… Playing with yourself exactly as you should, as if it’s all you’ll ever need.” His pen shook in his hand, he wanted to eternally curse himself for how foolish he must appear right now. Alone in his study, using his boundless abilities to bestow filthy, empty nothings to some human… But gods and demons be damned alike, he couldn’t fucking stop.

You couldn’t speak easily beyond what he willed, though your thoughts were still somehow intact alongside his own, completely exposed to him. How your mind ducked and swayed between blinding arousal and numbing concern, they somehow mixed into the perfect concoction of adrenaline. How he wanted to materialize and defile you by way of his own body, however you wanted him to appear, he’d give anything you’d want. Man or woman, human or beast, whatever you wish… He could give you anything you desire, and he’d quickly find out by probing your cute little head.

“With your sweet voice…” He thankfully, for your sanity’s sake, slowed his pace, your hand making hardly any wake, “Share with me what’s lending your body to me in such a delectable manner… How do you need to be taken, my love?”

Confusion, rightfully so, asphyxiated you now that you could process beyond the blaze between your sticky thighs, “Care to tell me what’s going on?” Breathless, you realized you’d barely taken a breath beyond what’s necessary, “I feel like I’m hallucinating…”

“Perhaps I’ll guide your mind, too… Where you left off.” Genuinely inside you, his vast voice couldn’t get any closer, each consonant panging through every nerve, “How you couldn’t contain yourself as you read those mindless words, imagining some faceless figure bending you at his will. Fucking you mercilessly right at the very table you were reading at in the library. It was as if the silence itself was ogling you…”

Forgoing any further questioning, you were committed to reaching the orgasm that seemed to be right around the corner of your bed, “...So I was reading smut… Whatever you are… What’s the problem?”

“No, darling, that’s a lovely hobby, allowing yourself to become so starved for touch, you feel yourself growing wet as your eyes hungrily require more words to feed on. Desperate… Needing cock so frantically at that point, you don’t mind the oversaturated plot and poor dialogue anymore, you just want the sensations to finish the story… I’d never blame you for reviewing just how little it takes to drive you insane.”

He took you through your memories from earlier that day, how you truly couldn’t care less about how this author chose to depict this shallow sex scene. It simply served to remind you how depraved you’d felt recently, not recognizing what the cause could be.

“Are you some… What are you?” You were finding it hard to keep your eyes focused as your own, uncontrollable fingers still caressed inside your infinitely wet hole.

“I’m anything you want, darling. How are you envisioning me? Whose fingers do you want inside you most? Whose lips do you need against your porcelain skin, sucking, biting, whatever you require…?”

Your eyes finally shut, and heavily at that, overwhelmed by these words, “Fuck…” You could feel this everywhere, even your heart bursting at the seams with viscous, yet undefined, warmth.

He grinned an unseen grin, though you could hear it through his relaying, “Precisely,” Your left hand was made to dote on your curves elsewhere, pacing itself all over you in a way you’d not be able to manage, “How would you like me to please you…?”

‘Do whatever you want.’ He heard in your mind, finally peeling you away, one thought at a time, one you couldn’t bear to speak into fruition, “Is that so?”

“I see nowhere is safe…” You panted as your hands crowded you by way of his lead, “Whatever you are, however you look, I wish you’d just…” You still couldn’t air them, you were still too conscious to let yourself go, to revoke yourself and surrender. That made him dizzy with pure need for you. The need for you to break.

“You’ve got control, darling, and I know how badly you need this, judging how you considered touching yourself in your car in the parking lot earlier. Dirty thing.” His tone was playfully poking at your brain, “Just speak it and I will give everything to you.”

Blushed, your cheeks were braised by the thought of him somehow seeing you like that, your breath quickening, “You would’ve loved to have seen that, I would guess…”

“Oh, my love, how I could’ve made you do such a thing but decided to wait and savor you all for myself like this instead.” His pen ought to have rolled right out of his office at this point, now relying on his mind to maintain ample connection as he gripped himself through his work robes. Perhaps you’d prefer his true form…? How that prospect made him reel like nothing else.

He psychologically choked you, the thought too diabolic to simply accept, “Dantalion, the name you had me call…”

“Mm, you must keep saying it, all flustered and needy as you are.” He need not mind your awareness of his identity, besides, not even most of his ‘colleagues’ can ascertain his true appearance.

“Please, then… You already have me at your mercy.” You squeaked out, the overwhelming, foreign feeling pressing on your chest making it hard to serve your mind to him.

“You can’t be shy, I’ll give you a hint… It may have something to do with the pool of wetness dripping so elegantly from your cunt.” He also ought to just laugh right in your face, though he kept himself in check, not allowing his cock to kiss the air just beyond his slacks before he finally took you as he was meant to.

You whined that salacious little noise of defeat, “Take me, then, more than you already have… Fuck me until you’ve properly possessed me, Dantalion…”

As you imagined when you were reading that trashy novel earlier, he truly growled as you’d read the verb, not guttural, though. It had a tinge of ironic soul from his center as he basked in your pleas to be overridden by him in whichever context he saw fit.

“Yes, finally you’re coming to terms with yourself, darling…” He forced your hands to your sides, depriving you of any stimulation that wasn’t from his physical being alone, “Though you must tell me first what you wish to see.”

Brows pushed inward, you were perplexed but think you understood enough to give him free rein, “However you need to present yourself, please… Your words have done enough so far, come as you are.”

“My love,” His pet names berated you at every opportunity, he just couldn’t resist, “You’ve realized, surely, I’m not a familiar being, I am not human. Though I can be that if you so wish.”

“What difference does it make?” You tried to imagine some otherworldly being, but generic images of a commercialized devil were all you could manage. You needed that tingling feeling to be addressed once more.

“That’s fine with me…” He gave you no further warning, though he chose one of his frequented masks, as he didn’t have one true embodiment. Wanting to fuck with your limits, he chose the most unfamiliar while still having the physical ability to fuck you like you so desperately deserve. Over your planked form that lay in adorable wait, he began to materialize, immediately you were aware of his broad frame as he caged you. He was… Limitless, it seemed, the dark not providing much of a vantage for gauging his height. He wasn’t uncannily huge, per se, though his hands were almost twice the fanned circumference of yours, fingers of one hand able to span the plain of your stomach. You knew his face was close, soon feeling a long tongue paint the right side of your neck as he was finally able to breathe you in.

What threw you, though, was what felt like… A snake-like sensation that meandered between your lower thighs, almost independently with a mind of its own. It was as if you could feel the grin on his face like a knife at your throat as he waited for you to acknowledge it, something he knew would make you quiver with more than apprehension. He knew you would adapt at record speed, learn to need his tentacle-like cock as your desire for completion nearly oozed from your very pores, let alone your eager hole.

Its tip rolled up towards the peak of your thighs, he could adeptly sense the way your muscles twitched, even slightly, how your breath lost its bearing, “It makes no difference at all, darling, as I’d love to take you like this. How I know you’ve never been fucked, surely not by any human I’ve ever seen.”

He was taken aback by the strange competition he felt for your bodily approval, not having validation for why he sought this from you. You bewitched him, somehow, and as he hovered so heavily above you, he didn’t care to understand why.

You came to terms with what he meant, not able to imagine what his slithering cock might even feel like inside you, but fuck were you infinitely curious as his tongue lapped at your upper neck now, your earlobe added to the rotation. His teeth were sharp, though he wagered them against your skin with care so as to not outright injure you… Without you asking for it, that is.

“I want to taste you…” A hand lingered with clear intent to your overflowing cunt only to swipe up your arousal for himself with his middle finger paging through your folds. Your room was quiet enough to hear when his long finger popped back out of his mouth, only to find that same soaked finger forcing its way into your mouth. 

You gave him a moan of delight as he was at last inside you in some capacity, earning yourself a noise of satisfaction from him in return, “Savory, sweet…” He lolled on, “You taste so good, my darling… Too good, almost.”

You continued to lather his finger eagerly with your spit, “You need this so badly, I can smell the relief emanating from you.”

What was odd, is that truly you had the upper hand in this situation, though were you to discover how to use it, he may never return to his rightful, hellish gallows. Touching you… Rousing your shakes and quivers, the velvet of your tongue painting his finger. The desperation and greed in humans pale when juxtaposed with that of a demon, the comparison being a laughable prospect at best. He would brutally devour you, absorb you, though he’d never be able to indulge in your physicalities like this… A contract he’s finding he’d never agree upon. Though you didn’t need to be privy to that, the salty fear he tasted from you was phenomenal.

Your expression was one he’d need to be framed in his office, swept with lust as your tiny hand gripped his wrist for more control. He put his hand into a rhythm of movement, fucking your soft lips, his eyes nailed to your face. He wasn’t expecting, however, your audacious move to lead his hand to a halt, licking a scalding streak to his palm, moving to his index. Though he didn’t allow your control for long, grabbing your chin as his tongue left your neck to face you head-on.

“You absolute fiend…” You could hardly make out his facial features, but his eyes had a slight glow of amethyst to them, his pupils a dilated diamond as he made you observe them. His curious cock danced between your thighs, teasing as the tip continued to run from your inner knee to the very top of your thigh. It had a viscous slick of its own, leaving a cooling sensation in its wake, not completely unlike a novocaine as it almost seemed to numb. At the same time, your senses were heightened, feeling his movements tenfold as your muscles twitched, to your abashed dismay.

“I trust you feel me, feeling you, darling…” His tongue lunged to taste your slack lips, yours meeting his adventurously, winding and mingling, “I wish I could take you in that library… That seemed to make you ravenous. How, even when you’d pretend to try to stay quiet, I’d make sure everyone could hear your body slam into mine… Your sloppy little cunt weeping for me as I tear your soul to shreds.”

Your face contorted, lost in the foggy woods that were his words, “You seemed to enjoy just peeping into my thoughts.”

The tentacle that you still couldn’t size up managed to wrap beneath your left knee, lifting your leg to spread you for him, air slashing your most delicate part, “You seem to take pleasure in knowing I heard them.” A second identical feeling joined, making you jolt as it slithered up your right thigh as its greeting, “Mm, I can damn near bite into your excitement, how badly your body is telling me it needs to be filled with something… But as much as I love that, I’d rather you tell me in that pretty whine of yours.”

The tentacle around your knee tightened, forcing your leg further upward, though this served as more tension for him as he needed some kind of friction to keep himself at a reasonable bay. The other blunted tip was set on reaching your clit, inching closer and closer…

Though not until your word would he allow you that privilege.

#really he just taunts u #so not really... monsterfucking... but monsterteasing #仕方ない #dantalion #ars goetia #monster fucker #monster smut #demon x fem!reader #demon x reader #demon smut #also really trying to not just give in to the urge to write more dottore or astarion...............................................

[akunoniwa]

Reconciliation

AN: i really like the priest trope y'all and dottore continues to plague my being.

Synopsis: In which you confess to your earnest, local priest about your most wretched sins...

Pairing: Priest!Il Dottore x fem!reader

Warnings: MDNI, he's a priest all of the sudden... for some reason..., dirty (blabbing) talk, mutual masturbation ig, you two just drive each other mad

WC: ~2.7k

Also, if anyone is interested, for the last couple years I have been curating a playlist of Evil, Macabre, Scheming classical that I usually write to. You can find it here! (Spotify :/)

Dottore himself may possess a universe-worth of deranged secrets, but his malevolence was the most obvious truth of all.

He’d be a resourceful and dutiful liar, a rehearsed cosmopolitan who knows what to say to get not just underneath your frail blouse, but your skin. He’d often get hyperboles thrown his way, how he must be able to read minds… Surely… That is impossible, right?

How Dottore managed to slip in through the ancient cracks of the Church of Favonius, one could not trace with their finger alone, as he found a special way to bypass the seminary. Growing morbidly bored in his lab as his segments took care of the more ‘menial’ things, he had a thought, twisted and contorted as usual: Where could he get a true, mouth-watering taste of humanity, bare and earnest before him? Naturally, a church is a place where sin may be denounced, but in a sense is romanticized and encouraged in its fashionable banishment. How he’d not considered this his first time around was… Perhaps a symptom of his inability to have all of himself in one place, both cognitively and literally speaking.

Dottore couldn’t merely walk into the cathedral in search of employment, however. The fame he’d acquired was not for his victories, but rather his shortcomings, though the public wouldn’t discern them beyond atrocities, successful or not. While the Fatui had strange footholds in every part of Teyvat, his presence would not be shrugged off, especially should Seamus get word of his meanderings.

His plan, then, was simple– dispose of a working, familiar priest, and he could replicate him as he’s done before in Inazuma, promptly and quietly taking his place. The edges of his ears tingle with anticipation as he imagines all of the degeneracy and blasphemy he’d bear witness to in confession, perhaps he could absorb some inspiration for other projects… Or so he initially thought before you started coming to him for ‘advice’, blotting his mind with a different genre of filth.

In the confessional, he’s able to indulge in hearing various grim sins and tales, his tarnished soul getting off on the compiled suffering in one way or another. His coos of nurturing advice would aptly dilute any evidence of that, though, as he had a reputation to maintain. Besides, he wouldn’t be able to hear your most vile fantasies should he somehow get removed.

You came in routinely, your voice shrouded in its faux shame, so close to his ear as it was only separated by a mere wooden screen. He could damn near feel your tongue as it pushed your impure thoughts to him on its crests and troughs. He was well aware of your intentions, convinced you’d not step foot on church grounds were it not to hand-feed him samples of your depravities. The image of you kneeling, in such a decadent position while you granted him whispers of obscenities, made it hard to restrain a grin of utter, vulgar satisfaction.

Knowing who was approaching next, he allowed himself to loosen his grip on his character only slightly, “My… I never would’ve expected your prompt return…”

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned…” Your voice crept beautifully through the holes of the screen like a miasmic mist. He allowed his still-unfamiliar title slipping past your lips prick chills all over his body, the blatant implications of hierarchy stoning him.

This was all between you two anyhow, so he decided to play with you to his content, “I can only imagine.” His true voice, too, lingered like smoke through to your ears, dense yet airy, “Perhaps the Lord will find it within His grace to admonish you of your consistently licentious behavior… Tell me, dear, what ails you?”

“I just can't seem to stop thinking about you, Father…” You always had a hard time dropping the guise immediately, as if you haven’t shared these thoughts with him numerous times before.

You heard him shift, his robes moving slowly about his tensed, upright form, your voice drowning him when it was shaped in such a needy tone, “Ah… Quite the predicament, indeed. You know this is a safe place for you to air your sins out into the open, you must proclaim them clearly to Him.”

Your light giggle sent wakes of delirium through him, “I could never conceal my true self from you, Father… Although, I find myself wondering if you’re really an envoy of God or a spawn from Hell.”

“You wound me, darling, deeply so, though that will not divert my faith and divine purpose to ensure your merciful forgiveness.” He improvised artlessly, your implications alone rustling his guts, a friction he was growing addicted to. His entire being salivated at the thought of what mangled ideas you’d bring right to his feet. How you returned to him, beckoning for attention like a crow as you’d gift him with gleaming desire.

“A true messenger of God’s word would surely not get giddy at the thought of fucking one of their devotees… Wouldn’t you agree?” Your words were somewhat daring on your part, as you couldn’t entirely surmise just who was inches from you, but he has more than revealed his insatiable lechery.

You swore you could feel his breath through the screen as he pushed out an arrogant chuckle through his nose, as if there were no other place for you but the palm of his hand, “It’s that very thing, your passionate devotion, that compels Him. Though it seems you’re trying to parry attention away from your misdeeds…”

You noted, much to your pleasure, how he didn’t deny your accusation, “It’s just… Often when I go to pray before bed, I get distracted…”

“It’s entirely normal to get distracted,” He briefly paused, you could almost feel the breath that was perched in his throat in your own, “Perhaps you’re neglecting a piece of your conscience, an inherent part of yourself that you’ve yet to reconcile with.”

An inherent slut, that’s what he thought. How you come in here weekly only to tempt him, your mind is devoted to nothing nearly akin to a god. Truly exquisite.

You continued a bit more blatantly, toying with him, “That could be… It’s so hard to not lose my train of thought when I’m on my knees and can’t think of anything but your voice in place of His.”

His body was bleeding soot, he felt a build-up of carnal animosity trickle into his veins as you spoke, “Is that so… Was I not conveying His word as I usually do, darling?”

Your knees were quickly growing sore from kneeling, but the pain was blunted by the dull buzzing in your abdomen, “If His words are usually detailing what terrible things he’d like to do to me, but I can’t be so sure…”

His legs inadvertently parted, weakening upon your implications, a heat radiating between them that he wished was due to your body being between them. He was trying with every atom that built him to keep his hands in a neutral position on his thighs, but so desperately wanted to alleviate the growing strain in his slacks, “Terrible, indeed… I think you’re not truly allowing Him to touch you, darling, letting Him resonate deep inside you…” His veiled smirk ought to run laps around his entire face as he shuffled through his deck of delirious innuendos. He just enjoyed the theater of it all as his hands clawed at polyester.

While his acting was laughable from a more rational perspective, you were too intoxicated with want to mind and his prods were becoming too potent, “You may be right, Father,” You hoped to any higher power that calling him that was fucking with him. Not being able to see him was making you spiral, the need to merely touch him was stacking as you were beyond yourself before even making it to the church. Being that his voice was all you knew, you were sure that should he actually graze your skin, you’d be all the more susceptible to his antics.

As much as he likes to indulge in teasing you, he so badly wanted to drop the act that you’ve both rehearsed so many times before and insist that you meet him on this side of the screen. Your honeyed voice is always shredding him to dust, his mind disintegrating at the thought of how reprehensible it’d be to take you right here in the confines of the confessional box. Look him in the eyes from your precious, kneeled perspective and tell him how far from God you’ve fallen, how your repentance can only be properly demonstrated on his cock. Your delectable moans would drip right into his ear as he takes you, making your sex the only sacrament you’ll ever require.

“Father?” You called to him through his mental escapade delicately, his silence unsettling in several ways, though it seems you’d successfully wedged your way into his head.

“Yes, darling.” His ability to respire becomes all the more taxing, the facade threatening to shatter as he almost forgets his role for a moment.

“Could you… Do me a favor?” Curling, winding, your vague presence was constricting around him so deliciously.

“What is it…?” You already had him at the heel of each consonant. You debated in your fantasies what you’d lose yourself over more: Being told what to do, or telling him what to do… Did you have to choose?

You bared your fanged will, “I know you want to touch yourself desperately, if you’re not already…” You began, confident in your assumptions as you heard an eroded breath tumble from his lips, “Could you do that for me…?”

His brows collided in a furrow, dumbfounded with how forward you were finally being, “Of course, darling…” He easily committed, “Anything to bestow God’s love, even to the undeserving…”

He didn’t care to hold back his heady exhale upon finally kneading a palm into his already well-hardened cock, cuffing it now and then to outline the silhouette through his pants. You, too, let him in on your movements, ensuring he heard your sweet, lofty mewls as your fingers padded your clit ever so slowly.

“How do you feel, Father… Tell me…” You sang to him, oh how he wished he could see your flushed face, how you urged him to pleasure himself.

“I know it wouldn’t compare to your vile little mouth.” He groaned through another wavered exhale, “I would go as far as to guess you were wet before you got down on your knees, before you got to this Church, thinking about how badly you want to be fucked in such a sacred place…” Saying this knowing damn well how his body faltered at the sight of your name being rightfully branded on his list for another confession.

“Maybe that’s just how I show my devotion, Father…” You bit your lip as your clit gradually stiffened with need, cycling just the right spot, hardly able to resist rutting into your hand.

“Fuck, and you keep calling me that,” His grip tightened, though he’d not let himself free from his constraints yet.

“Is that not what you are? Or are you, God forbid, hiding something?” You pressed him in unison with your hand.

Him revealing his true identity would benefit no one, including you, but something about being able to fuck you as his true self set him ablaze. His expression tightened into one of brief apprehension, he could feel the knocking of his heart in his throat– There’s no feasible way you’d know who he is…

“Of course,” He assured himself more than anyone else, “But when you say it the way you do, in that sickening little whine of yours… It’s too good, darling, too much.” You reeled as you could hear the grin that tugged at his lips, though the struggle to maintain composure between you is what spoiled you.

“Are you moving… Fast or slow?” You forced him to elaborate, though your voice only continued to dwindle.

“Painfully slow…” His hips instinctually rose and fell in his vice grip, “I wish it were any part of you, darling… Your hand, your pretty mouth… Maybe you’d be sitting in my lap…” He mused wickedly.

You hummed in a whisper, “I wish I could touch you…” You decided to admit, “What would you want me to do to you, Father…?” You dug your interrogation into him as you wandered to your cunt, overflowing with slick need as two fingers dove inside in a curl. How you could have his cock pushing through you right in this moment but you both opted for this pitiful demonstration instead…

He adored how you were tearing yourself apart for him, desperation infecting your words, “Perhaps I’d want you to start with your hand in place of mine so you could realize how utterly insane you make me feel… How hard I am for you with just your voice alone, darling.” The rhythm of his breaths was becoming more hasty, the timbre of his voice growing more tangy as his lust snuck through the confines of his weakening dignity.

“Fuck, I really just wanna feel your hot lips wrapped around me, that filthy mouth of yours… Your flattened tongue running against the underside…”

You egged him on with a moan of approval, his mental painting distracting your movements from exceeding a slow massage inside you, “That sounds so good, I want to be the one making you feel good…”

On that note, he found himself needing to corrupt you. Requiring it. It was a perfect setting to do so, beheld in the eyes of sanctity at its most intense. It made him want to rip his own heart out, how this feeling ravaged his entire being. He wanted to be the only one who could make you feel like you served a purpose, symbiotic destruction as he’d fuck you until you could recall nothing else but the sensation of his cock filling you to the most dizzying brim. As much as he wanted you to worship him, he found the prospect of making you ascend with pleasure more gratifying.

“I bet you’d be the kind to get off on me fucking your mouth, neglecting your aching little cunt…” He loved denying himself the raw contact with his cock, but it was becoming quite the task to uphold as he moved to fumble with his belt buckle.

Your face managed to insulate itself with a blush that, should he have seen it, he would’ve taken you upon first notice, “I’d want you to grip my hair, forcing me to keep eye contact…”

“Good, darling, now you’re imagining… How I’d make you gag looking right into your eyes, as that’s only what you deserve for punishment’s sake.” He managed to free himself from his slacks, with no patience to adjust himself beyond his length protruding through the opening of his fly. Your shallow pants were so close to his ear, through the fine holes of the screen he hallucinated a face to imagine. He watched the apparition of you sway and twitch as you were barely able to remain upright while your fingers pumped inside you.

“Do you often touch yourself in prayer, darling?” He ventured.

“Only if it’s to you… Your voice truly haunts me, especially when you tell me all of this worthless shit, I just… Can’t help myself, Father.”

“I think of you all the time, how close we are right now, how I could fucking destroy you but we continue like this anyway.”

“Why don’t you come out of your little box and fuck me then?”

His damned laugh that drove you up the vaulted cathedral walls sounded once more, wondering how long he could be stowed away like this. It is Sunday after all, but perhaps this schedule 10 minutes before mass was intentional. Dottore was adeptly full of himself as he’d not mind if your screams were heard over the choir, in fact, that’d be ideal. While the confessional wasn’t in the main hall, it wasn’t secluded enough to dampen how his hips would assault the skin of your behind as he took you…

Your offer was too divine to refuse.

#...i could write a part two... #hoyoverse plz feed me more dottore content im withering lmao #perhaps if he kicked my ass i would stfu abt him...??? #il dottore x fem!reader #il dottore x reader #genshin impact x reader #il dottore #genshin smut #作文

[akunoniwa]

Doctor's Note

Synopsis: In which you get diagnosed and treated by your local Dr. Demon

Pairing: Gaap (Ars Goetia) x fem!reader

Warnings: MDNI, essentially just... demon fucking...

WC: ~4.5k

He’d already know your body too well, exactly where to touch and how, seeing as he’s a seasoned doctor. It didn’t matter that you’d only visited him just this once, he knew exactly what ailed you. 

An excuse.

You’d read all about him, as you’d heard he takes phenomenal care of his patients, but an unusual sense of pride kept you from submitting to your curiosity. Until now.

“It’s strange…” He began, his voice buoyant despite its density. He’d done all of the typical procedures, asking about your medical history, taking your blood pressure, but he feigned ignorance of your real intent. He wanted to entertain your coyness, as it’s nothing new… But you seemed particularly delectable, as he recognized you’re not one easily swayed.

His wanting to change the subject naturally had you alert, waiting for him to continue with suspended brows.

“You’d made this appointment with an air of reasoning as if I’d find something wrong?” His eyes did not raise, as his gaze was focused on his pen lacing ink into quick, ornate letters on the report. The sound of the dextrous and hasty ballpoint imprinting strings of words onto the page somehow spoke of his personality to you… It was oddly fascinating to watch.

You were skeptical of this remark, as you’d made no obvious note of this being your motive, it’s merely a regular physical, “I just haven’t been keeping up with my health, and you were recommended to me…”

He gently huffed out what almost seemed to be a smug scoff, setting his clipboard on the counter behind him. You still sat propped up on the observation table, feeling almost infantilized by the way your feet barely reached the step-down.

“There’s just one last step, I need to check your lungs and heart…” You noted that he didn’t keep the stethoscope around his neck but rather it was hung on the wall. 

Within your reading up on him, you were quickly put on to why he was so ‘renowned’. Yes, he was genuinely an accomplished scholar, particularly in women’s health, but… Men and women alike would rave about how he’d ‘take care of them’ like no one else… You couldn’t snuff these thoughts out as he neared you from the side.

“If I may pry, who recommended me?” He hesitated to place the diaphragm against you. You felt disgusted by the way you were becoming increasingly aware of his proximity. 

“Just a coworker, we were chatting about how negligent I am when it comes to my doctor visits… I know I need to pay more attention.” You gave an earnest response, trying to dilute any suggestive thoughts, though they were growing unbearably potent.

He hummed in acknowledgment with a considering pout, carrying on with checking your upper back, the cold of the bell piece cutting through your blouse, “Deep breath in…” He guided, almost lifting you with his voice

“And despite having a previous physician, you chose me?” He paused, “Breathe out.” He repositioned the diaphragm slowly against your back. He noticed your breath was tense instantly, trying to stifle any satisfaction in this. Your heart rate undeniably went up as he neared questionable territory with his interrogating.

“I was intrigued, my last doctor was not the most compassionate.” Your reasoning was quick, perhaps justified, but he liked the way your breath hitched as he moved around your back.

“One last breath in…” His voice rose as if he was holding the same breath, “And out.”

He rounded to your front, standing before you, “Just breathe as you normally would here.” He placed the piece in the center of your chest as you tried to avoid looking directly at his face. He was so close, you were in his sphere of scent, a delicately botanic, smoky kind.

“I said to breathe normally.” He asserted again with a small grin, “You just cannot seem to relax…”

“A doctor’s office isn’t particularly comforting.” Your eyes shot as far away from seeing his expression as possible, your cheeks tarnished with faint embarrassment.

“Is that what it is? Your blood pressure was entirely normal earlier… Perhaps there is something amiss with you…” His words dragged and coiled around you, reminiscent of his handwriting, aptly stringing you along.

You’ve been caught, pressing your lips together in a bashful attempt to not say something ridiculous, “And what might that be.” You maintained a level tone as best as you could.

He still held the scope in place, enjoying how you writhed, your breaths smaller, not so much frantic, but unsteady. He was surely staring at your face from his elevated angle, you could feel his gaze on you as if you were an ant under a magnifying glass.

His prior facade of professionalism dropped elegantly like a theater curtain, heavy as he leaned into you, his lips inches from your ear, “You know exactly why you came here, how long would you like to continue rehearsing this scene?”

Your frenzied heart rate was enough to drive him wild, but he knew how to keep tempo.

“... I…,” You were at a loss, not wanting to hear much more of your meek voice. His heat radiated over your whole body, voice seeping into you.

“I’ll show you compassion just this once,” His words were bowed with an audible grin, “Only if you can report to me what exactly brought you here. Truly.” He finally hung the scope to idle around his neck, wanting to hear your every syllable, even if they wavered.

Your words certainly didn’t come easily, “I was curious why you’d received such appraise… And I wanted to find out for myself.”

“You know what I am and what I do, and still sit here as if I have to evaluate you to find out your pitiful deficiencies.” You hadn’t noticed your legs instinctually parted to allow him closer, “You want me to assess your body, in more ways than one.”

“Is this not malpractice, you acting this way, doctor?” Your voice had surely withered under the weight of anticipation.

He was more moved by your calling him ‘doctor’ than he should have been, as it’s something he hears all the time… Your voice, strained and borderline needy, rearranged the word in his mind, “I’ll give you any version of malpractice you prefer, darling.” He finally distanced his face to align with yours, seeing your slipping guise from inches away.

“What would you prescribe to someone with my so-called pitiful deficiencies?” You playfully continued the bit, you both intertwined in the teasing like strands of a rope.

“Hmm… I may need a closer look, after all, just to ensure… May I?” You were caught off guard by his genuine concern about touching you.

“I can’t just go home untreated, can I? Whatever you need to do to cure me of these deficiencies, please…” You realized you’d properly left your decency and pride tied to a light post outside of the clinic.

He took in a breath himself, overwhelmed by your eager presence… No demon should have this much power without checks and balances… He salivated at the thought of ravaging you, tipped by your trailed ‘please’.

His hand, gloved in blue latex, rose to rest against your cheek as he showed you a doting look, “Stand up for me…”

You managed to still have a tinge of reservation, hesitating for barely a second. But, you both knew why you were here, there were no secrets to hang onto. You obliged as his hand fell, he stepped back allowing you some room. You had to admit, you were susceptible to his towering height as he scanned over you, somehow the silence served more to tension than awkwardness.

“To ascertain accurate results… These lovely clothes just won’t do, I regret to say…” He continued his character pretending to be upset by this. He stepped into you once again, an index finger pulling at your belt to undo the buckle, snaking it off of you through the loops. Even the mere sensation of this in tandem with your anticipation was starting to gnaw at you.

Along with the stethoscope, he hung your belt around his neck, “Perhaps this could be useful… Go ahead and strip for me darling, this could serve my research well.”

You committed to this energy, removing everything that clouded your bare form as he watched, head cocked observingly as he leaned back against the counter. Only the sound of clothes slipping against skin flooded the space. His eyes swayed and lingered over every detail, his hands anchored to the counter’s edge at either side of him, looking nonchalantly imposing.

“Any prognosis?” You called to him as he had to tear his eyes from your body.

“Oh, it’s severe, seeing as you just willingly stripped naked for someone of my ilk.” He closed in on you again, unable to resist playing with you.

His rubbery hands reached to entrap you, starting from your ribcage, thumbs briefly brushing over your nipples. He spared no specific attention to any one thing, sliding down over your waist, to your hips. He watched his hands as you watched his faded eyes, even his blinks were languid as he felt you observing him.

“Turn around.” It was an order, but his voice still floated above your head as you obeyed, turning in his grasp.

He hummed, pleased as his touch rose to your shoulders, then dragged torturously to your ass. Although you were not instructed, it felt as if you were once again holding onto a breath, releasing as composed as you could manage as his hands groped your flesh, “These are quite nice… Typically they look better in a red… Or maybe…” His words wandered off to somewhere unknown, a hand rising to push at your upper back, forcing you to bend forward.

“You’re very compliant, darling.” You felt an acidic wave of lust roll through you at his thoughtless praise.

By the silence, you judged he was certainly made aware of your most deficient parts, your cunt probably more obviously intrigued than anything else.

“Hmm… This is most likely where your problem lies…” A latex-clad finger made faint contact with your clit, causing your thighs to twitch at the attention, to which he chuckled through his nose, “Severe indeed.” His hand pushed you down further causing you to be on maximum display as his feather-light touch grazed up to find your glistening hole. You bit your lip, but harder on a groan you attempted to constrict.

“Don’t hold back, I need you to communicate with me so I can know what’s wrong.” You were still caught up by how nice his fanned hand forcing you down onto the observation table made you feel, let alone his meandering touch. You could envision how lewd it looked, the image making you falter.

His index finger still lingered around your hole in no particular manner, as if he was genuinely taking note of your anatomy, “Surely you’re aware… Typically when your cunt is this soaked…” His upper half leaned over your folded form, wringing you out with his heady demeanor, “It means you desire something desperately.”

Your head inadvertently raised to try and close any gap between you, craning up in aroused dejection. You could feel him pressed against you, he was undoubtedly having his fun.

“Does this align with your symptoms?” A hand wound under your left arm, snaking to wrap underneath your jaw, forcing you closer to his voice, “Tell me.”

“Yes, doctor.” You choked out, noticing his eyes bloom when you called him that earlier, you decided to use your own trump card.

He groaned above you, his voice blanketing you, “There’s only one thing I know of to treat cases like yours…” He pushed his hips ever so slightly into your backside causing your eyes to flicker, “But you self-diagnosed before you even came to my clinic… Dirty little thing.”

He lifted himself to straighten, “It’s phenomenal, this human form… But it seems you are more excited by my barbaric, obscene interior…” A pair of fingers played at your hole once again, barely pushing into you, “You can’t be satiated by just a human… You want something more. Something diabolic.” Slowly, his fingers progressed as he continued to whirl on, driving you mad with his words.

He could feel that you were clenching, smiling with amusement, “Is this true? You’d prefer to be fucked by a beast like myself?”

How you’d answer that outright, you were initially unsure, but his fingers curled down, adeptly pushing into a perfect spot, “I-I… Yes, I would.” You loved the idea of him fucking you with his latex gloves, something about how sterilizing and surgical it felt.

“You’d like that?” He pressed, establishing a crawling pace with his hand.

“Yes, I’d like that.”

“Your cunt is so hot and wet, darling, you may just melt these gloves off…” He mused, basking in your pleasure.

You couldn’t help but let your body sway into his fingers, meeting his pace. Your whole being was throbbing, letting your satisfaction leave you as pants. You were growing more desperate to cum, wanting to coat his fingers with your release, though he pulled his hand away.

“Stand and turn for me, darling,” You did so, though slowly so as to not underestimate your delirium, forced to make eyes with him as he tasted you, “Utterly divine, you taste so sweet…”

You couldn’t help but feel scorn towards him, being made to watch him clean your juices thoroughly from his fingers, “Jesus…” He looked gorgeous, just like that.

“Not quite.” He jested, his fingertips reaching to play at your bottom lip until you allowed access, taking his lithe fingers in your mouth. He watched you intently, beyond himself as it set in that such a pretty little human would stoop so eagerly down to his level.

He gradually pulled his hand away, watching the way your lips wrapped so nicely until the heat of your mouth was but a ghost. He painted a trail of your saliva down your chin, making a mess of you, “Your breasts are lovely too, I must say.” 

He stretched his gloves off, exposing skin with markings that resembled black, veiny cracks. You were not repulsed, quite the contrary, his skin looked like a glass mosaic, his bare hands cupping your breasts. Feeling the rough texture of his skin against yours only amplified his effect.

“Your reactions are too much for me, it’s making it hard for me to keep composure…” He played at your nipples between his thumb and index, making you squirm.

“I didn’t come here for your composure.” You placed your hands on his kintsugi skin, hoping to urge him on.

“I am… well aware, darling.” His hands left you, shouldering off his lab coat, setting your belt to still be within reach, “You’ll need to be fucked back into health.”

As he continued to remove his work attire, he continued to reveal his increasingly onyx skin, the closer to his chest, the more dense the black. It was incredible, you couldn’t help but gawk, to which he smirked almost sheepishly, “Why don’t you sit pretty for me back on the table…”

You were balancing on his every command at this point, loving the feeling that embraced your body in this moment. You hopped back up on the table to face him, spreading your legs to taunt him. He moved routinely to his lower half, adoring how you watched as his trousers fell for him to push aside along with his shoes. You wouldn’t say you were shocked, but his cock was surely not human, three knots that staggered in increasing size from his tip to the base. Immediately, the irresistible thought of him pushing you open, feeling those crevices move your insides… You didn’t think you could grow any wetter.

“I love that expression you’re wearing… The only thing I’ll allow.” His hand wrapped around himself, pumping his bulbous length. You had a paradoxically innocent urge to simply stroke him, of course never having seen this before. You felt sordid for being turned on at the sight of him touching himself right before you.

You took it upon yourself to let a hand find your clit, seeing if this would induce any reaction from him. It most certainly did, an inferno sparked in his chest, let alone his cock, as he watched you play with yourself so deviantly. He was debating… Should he keep dragging you around with his antics… Or are you in such a grave state that you must be cured right this instant? His own heart raved at the possibilities, mind flooded with a mirage of your pretty body doing such horrific things for him.

“What’s on your mind…?” He asked, his hand still cycling in a fluid motion in a stalemate.

“You.” You grinned, “What’s this cure you spoke of?”

Your being direct stoked him, causing him to chuckle deep from his chest, “I think I need to cure you until you’re properly bedridden, darling.”

You pushed your middle and ring finger into your beckoning cunt as you propped a leg up on the table, causing his eyes to immediately shoot to yours, almost in warning, “Please, doctor, I’m at your mercy.”

He let out an undeniable scoff this time, taking a few steps to near you as he grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away, “I fucking hate how you call me that.” He aligned the tip of his alien-looking cock with your hole, that being enough to send shockwaves through you, “Keep doing it.” 

He decided to channel his teasing into you, only pushing his girthy tip inside at a molasses pace, finally coaxing out the most beautiful sounds from you. You both had unanimous thoughts of how good the other felt, your pussy was impossibly soft and plush, his length surprisingly velvety as he angled himself to hit that same delicious spot. You felt your hole stretch around his first, modest knot as he’d continuously remove himself completely to shove himself back inside you.

“Do you think you need more? How do you feel, darling?” His hand gripped your thigh that still rested on the table, squeezing out your reply.

“It feels so good, doctor, but…”

He was awed by the fact you could still be embarrassed to express your needs, he found it almost endearing, “But…?” He pulled out to admire his tip glistening with your creamy slick, waiting for you.

He was going to make you say it, regardless. Even just the sight of his shaft that curved upward so enticingly made you quiver, “I need more.” God, you sounded so whiny and small.

His strong grip on your thigh was alarming, but not unexpected as his first knot slid in with ease once more, though the second demanded more of you. Paired with the stretch, he was starting to push fairly deep into you, finally starting to reorganize your insides as you imagined. You couldn’t tie down a labored ‘fuck’ as he began to thrust at a steady pace. Every time he pushed back into you, an indescribably foreign feeling of being perfectly spread by each knot exploded inside you. You decided to place your hands on his shoulders to keep balance as he hunched over your starved form.

Your moans were of a heavenly timbre he’d never know otherwise as he experimented with pace and angle to see which would make you sing. Your wetness coated the very beginning of his final, large knot as he thrust into you, but you couldn’t imagine it actually managing to fit. Because of its shape, his cock accentuated the squelches from your cunt, the crude sounds seeming to bounce off the walls.

He found another spot deep inside you, concocting a burn, itch, smolder… Every sensation was being triggered as he sheathed into you repeatedly, knowing he had found your sweetest spot, “You can’t even cry… How adorable…” His hand found your cheek once more as his eyes seemed to reach into you, cradling your gaze.

He wasn’t unfazed, in fact, your broken moans were like shards of glassy pleasure in his lower abdomen, he felt deific as he took you. And you took him so well… He’d almost plead to the gods himself if it meant that you’d clench onto him like this eternally. For a demon, he was quite considerate, as he’d never force you, but he wanted so desperately for you to absorb all he had, his final knot prodding at your cunt.

His hands slid to your knees, urging you to wrap your legs around his torso, lifting you as soon as you followed. Gravity lent itself to the intensity as you were slammed down onto him, his hands spread on either side of your ass. While you found yourself nearly unable to make a sound, finally he seemed to begin to crack, his deep moans touching a whole new kind of place inside you.

“You look so cute, your wasted expression…” He held you with one arm wrapped around your back, his other hand playing with your lips, “I wonder how sweet you look when you cum…?”

You could only give him an imploring look, your body being split open.

“My sick little darling…” You felt his final knot manage to slip in a bit further, causing you to cry out in pleasure, “Cum on my cock…” His voice wavered in time with his thrusts.

If you were to refer to any orgasm as explosive, this could be the only one, having never been spread that wide. Luckily he could easily support your form as you convulsed and shattered around him. You could almost immediately be thrown over again as his last knot slipped entirely inside your cunt.

“F-fuck, darling–” He stammered, his face contorted with frustration as he tried not to cum just yet wanting to prolong this moment. You felt so complete as he held you, your head resting on his void for a chest, warming his knots. You wanted to feel his searing load paint your insides, but he merely held your hips in place as you felt his cock tremble inside you.

He managed to move, setting you back down on the table letting you lay back.

“How do you feel…?” His words sounded as if they were squashed and dragged under a shoe, so incredibly tense as he gave your gleaming body a once… or twice over.

You couldn’t control how your cunt continued to squeeze, “So good…”

He wanted more. More of your voice, more of your touch. He decided to pull out, painstakingly slow, somehow, much to his surprise, managing not to implode. You both shared a groan of delight as the sliding friction tore at each other. A ring of your creamy sweet decorated the base of his cock, he watched as your wetness seemed to pour from you as he vacated your hole.

You wanted him to feel good… You had a fiery urge to ensure he was satisfied, almost to a point of not being able to recognize your own mind’s voice.

“Can you stand up one last time… for me?” He sounded pathetic… No human had ever obliterated his senses like this before, he didn’t think it was possible. He found humans to be amusing little toys… Not that you weren’t, but…

You obliged without question, watching as he turned away briefly to grab your belt. Of course his body was chiseled, something he knew appealed to mortal toys like yourself, you got another chance to study him until he faced you again.

He grabbed your wrists, binding them with your belt, and raised them above your head in one hand. He turned you with his other, walking you to the landscape window in his third-story office, having always wanted to do something like this. A foot or two away, he stopped, pressing your top half forward at your wrists, the side of your face and breasts pressed against the freezing glass. You felt so shameless… And so empty as you waited for him to fill you.

“Do you like being humiliated?” His familiar tip danced at your used hole, “Answer.” His domineering words ignited you.

“By you.” You answered candidly, words slightly distorted from your face being held against the window.

“Such a good, slutty little patient you are.” He plunged the entirety of his cock back into you swiftly, obsessed with how his largest knot was absorbed so easily.

“I want you to cum inside me, doctor…” You whined impatiently, completely lost in him.

“I’m sure you fucking do.” His words were shredded between his teeth, “You’d love that. I wish someone could see how fucking bad you want my cum.”

“Please…” You urged him to move, still in disbelief that he buried himself so far.

He was nearly at his own wit’s end, thrusting himself up into you, his hips colliding forcefully against your ass. His free hand was soldered to your waist, ensuring you remain as a statue in this unpleasant pose, it being uncomfortable somehow adding to the storm surge brewing inside you.

“Are you going to cum again, darling?” Your eyes were squeezed shut, just nodding worthlessly against the glass as he cooed so sinfully. “I love seeing you dance so beautifully on my cock, give me all of you.”

His tactic of plunging his entire length into you repeatedly was something you were particularly susceptible to, his knots rolling effortlessly through you, “Fuck… Yes...” His voice was as smoky as his scent, fogging your mind. He slammed into you one final time, holding you tightly against him as you both reached your highs. His thick seed was so hot, coating your walls so deliciously, his pants raining down against your back. You felt strangely resolved like you had served a divine purpose by receiving his cum so impossibly deep.

He pulled your body close by your bound wrists, his chest flush with your back, potting sweet kisses from your neck to your shoulder. It felt as if you could nearly be bound to his pelvis from how tightly you were wound around his shaft. A hand dragged down, letting your arms finally rest as he delicately caressed your breasts, your head falling back against the top of his chest.

“I think you may need a follow-up evaluation,” He cracked softly near your ear, “Your case is particularly serious.”

#wrote this a while ago and tried putting it up on other past blogs... #gaap #ars goetia #monster fucker #monster smut #demon smut #demon x fem!reader #demon x reader #作文

[akunoniwa]

To Build a Home

AN: once again, i will use dottore to dispose of my emotions

Synopsis: In which Dottore comforts you... or something

Pairing: Il Dottore x fem(ish)!reader

Warnings: it's... sappy... it's fluffy..., the reader has vague mentions of childhood, a grain of angst

WC: ~2.1k

You feel like there is a good chance he may not know how to store the things you confess to him, yet his words in return are adorned with care as if he’d reserve every thought for you. Out of the vast population, there are more of him than there ever will be of anyone else, his segments collecting experiences and stimuli all on their own… With that logic, perhaps he is the most qualified to sift through your mind, having also gathered and simulated dreamscapes and nearly constructed a ‘god’.

Though the more you thought, the more intimidating it became… Your problems were naught compared to the lifestyle of malevolence he cultivated, but here you both sat anyway. His fingers wisp mindlessly beneath the hem of your shirt as you lay back upon his chest. To you, he was a puddle of sunshine that poured through the window to lay in, his heat lulling you as if his embrace were the safest, most secure place to ever be. Your eyes were not squeezed but closed gently as the tides of his breathing buoyed your body ever so slightly. He watched his own hand as it brushed your skin, caught up in the fact that you both were here like this, so easily… Naturally.

“Darling…” He called lightly from above you, your heart must’ve been in a fragile state leaping like it did as he’s called you that hundreds of times.

“I’d just rather lay here like this, on second thought… Please. I don’t want to burden you, especially with things I can’t control or change.”

You could feel the pull of his furrowed brows at your throat, “Burden me. I want your burdens just as desperately as I require any other part of you…”

Your head rolled back and forth in the crook of his neck, “I’d really rather these thoughts go away on their own, but it appears that may never happen.”

“Precisely. Thoughts aren’t flies that simply die when trapped for too long, instead, they will mutate to ensure they stick around until you air them out… No matter how you’ve branded them, or how much value you think they may or may not have, I’d like to hear them… If you’d let me.” His voice implored your mind gently into the open as if coaxing it with a treat.

Lashes hung slack in your vision as you searched for the willpower, “I’ve just been feeling… It’s been reduced to vague depression, really. I try to choke out my emotions about certain things, and I am well aware that that method isn’t really effective. I feel disappointed but I don’t know why anymore.”

“You don’t know what’s causing you to feel this way?” He paraphrased as he followed your words.

“See? It’s idiotic to even mind the past, especially childhood when nothing was up to me… Yet here I am, decades later, contemplating the same people as if they’re supposed to mean something to me by default. Where these things, still, cannot be helped.”

“If I may…” His voice barrelled through his throat despite it being not much beyond a whisper, “I’m not particularly versed in handling emotions myself, darling, I’ll be frank, but I find that you have an issue with accepting that you even have them to begin with. In doing so, you’re not really creating a space within yourself to, at the very least, just… Be.”

“I know… I have thought about my parents for all my life, in fact, they were most likely the first thoughts I ever had… I am so… So tired of wondering what could’ve been. I just want all of it to disappear.” Your face tensed, eyes painting the back of your eyelids frantically.

“I understand…” He opted to let the silence interject as need be, not knowing the best words to use and when.

“...All I ever wanted, like any child, was simply just a family. I just wanted to be wanted by them, yet in what I thought to be my own home, I felt as if I’d been orphaned. I often wondered why our dining room table had more than one chair. It just feels so pathetic, what I’ve been left with now… I thought I’d outgrow the loneliness I felt as a child, like my clothes, but…” Much to your dismay, you felt the wetness from your eyes trying to pry its way out in streams.

You couldn’t even hear his breaths as he’d maintained his stone silence while he listened, it was almost unsettling, “I’m sor–”

“Don’t.” His response snuffed out your apology, “I didn’t necessarily know you felt this way… Then again, I don’t really know much of anything about your family.” His hand meandered up to twist a random strand of your hair, you weren’t sure if this was as a means to comfort or to distract, “I can say… There are two chairs at our table for a very intentional reason I’d never allow myself to forget. The most lovely reason I get to look at almost every evening, wondering how… How she has the patience, for one…” You smiled abashedly as he spoke through a floating chuckle, “And how she chose me to be a part of her family. If not anything else, you and I are family and I will always be at your table, darling. Anytime.”

Your face was scrunched in an attempt to fend off bursting into tears, which couldn’t have looked very pleasant. He could feel your breaths trip over themselves as you sniffled, making him blush slightly as he recalled his own sappy monologue, but he meant every syllable. It wasn’t so much the desire to soothe that embarrassed him, but the realization that you made him feel so at ease, that even in sadness, he knew there was safety. He wasn’t very familiar with the concept himself prior to meeting you, a journey it surely has been.

“Of course you’re my family, Zandik… Absolutely.” Your glassy voice scraped his heart, shattering his own composure, as the more he contemplated a way to console you, the more he realized, too… He’d never had an ideal family life either. Your words were those he never knew he needed as he sat helpless within the first high of this unfamiliar feeling of blatant security.

He turned so as to set his lips heavily on the top of your head for a moment, practically absorbing you into him, a strange kind of aggression brewed. He wanted to dote on you so hard that any antagonizing thought would be minced to dust, embrace you so as to wring out anything that brought you sorrow… He wanted to give you so much more than just this metaphorical table– perhaps the entire home, with as many floors as you like, a grand garden in the backyard, a pool... Why determine bounds to what he’d give– He took in a breath to stop himself from letting the rabid, emotional dog loose in his mind.

The accepting silence gathered your tears as you were able to just lay in his presence comfortably once more, “I feel the inescapable need to kiss you but I also don’t want to move.” You shimmied in his grasp so as to get even more snug.

He couldn’t agree more, “Quite the predicament, as I’m pretty comfy myself…” He hummed, completely content… Aside from the brief chill that brushed his lips where yours should be. He waited for a moment to see if you’d break first, finger still intertwined in your strands.

You forced a breath into your lungs, seeing as he wouldn’t budge beneath you, not even for show. You sat forward, leaving what felt like his entire body bare from where your warmth was, adjusting yourself to straddle over his outstretched legs to leisure on his lap. He couldn’t fight the tickle of a grin pulling at his already taut features, eyeing you with a dense kind of anticipation. Your hands instinctively found either side of his face, admiring him as you did so. It looked as if his face were hewed and sanded with an artisanal attention to detail, while sharp at first glance, his features were accentuated with an unexpected softness. His gaze seemed to dance with yours like yin to yang, amused by your gawking, mirroring you with his own observations of your delicate face.

Your right hand wandered to brush a piece of frosty blue hair away, his eyes closing as he found peace in your movements. You could almost hear the summer breeze whirling from within your heart at the sight, the sickening delirium of sheer love for this curious man before you causing your trees to sway.

While he undoubtedly loved when you kissed him, this kind of moment made his soul broil in an inexplicably intoxicating way. Like watching the strands of a rope unravel between you two, the tension pulled sweetly at every ligament, every nerve. He kept his eyes closed as you pecked the tip of his nose, crinkling it upon contact.

“Thank you for listening to me…” Your words were hesitant, almost peeking around your back as you spoke them.

He allowed his hands to mold to your waist, holding you, “I’ll always listen.” His eyes a rich mahogany as they fixed themselves on yours, “Please never feel guilty for sharing yourself with me. Or, at least know that I would never be annoyed or angry with you for doing so… You know very well that I’m somewhat of a glorified mess, darling.”

Your lips stamped the apple of his left cheek, “I like your mess, though. Very much so.”

“You would be the only one, I can hardly stand myself, especially with the… Other clutter.”

A kiss to his right, your hair grazed his forehead each time you neared. You could feel his cuffed hands rise up your sides, wondering how long you’d neglect his lips, “Just kiss me, please?”

“I have been…” You grinned, obviously avoiding him now.

He lightly grabbed your face in return, halting your game as he rolled his eyes playfully, “‘Inescapable’, you said earlier, yet you opt to tease me instead…” He tsked. Your face reddened slightly, he could feel the heat in his palms, “Adorable. Can’t even stand up to me when I call you out, huh?”

“Maybe I don’t want to.” Your voice flicked at the end in suggestion.

He leaned into you, giving you a few quick kisses around your chin, finally landing on your lips as he was unable to wait any longer. The crowd in your heart was growing belligerent as if he’d never touched you before now. To be able to still taste this frenzied feeling between you swept you into your own sea. You sang a light hum into his mouth as his lips pressed into yours, properly breathing you into himself.

He made you so addictingly dizzy, each of your senses completely captivated by him as your movements were like a leaf in an almost stagnant pond, slow with purpose. Becoming too aware of the sounds between you made your face burn even harder yet, a bashful smile caused you to break it briefly.

Your expression was impossible to divert from as he fed off of the overt desire embroidered into every pore of your face. Your lips were wet and plush, your eyes uncertain about where they should land, all making him want to be locked in a perpetual kiss with you for as long as time. His body seethed, trying to maintain a certain genre of composure, but he couldn’t help but become acutely aware of the weight of both your body and your gaze on top of him. He sealed your lips once more, ignoring which way his thoughts pulled him, just focusing on you alone.

You noticed the clear increase of intensity, following the accidentals of his movements as he let his hands fly all about your silhouette. You’d not allow the way he groaned softly into you to miss your ears, causing you to stop before a point of no return.

“Are we just… Incapable of not obliterating the other at any moment?” Your breaths were chasing each other quicker than before, you leaned your forehead on his.

He laughed through his nose, defeated, “It often appears that way. You just… I have a hard time reserving myself around you, especially when you’re sitting so pretty on top of me like this…”

You nudged into his forehead in playful reproach, “I love you.”

His insides bloomed upon your words, or perhaps… The entire process of germination and a few cycles of photosynthesis happened spontaneously as he felt his body renew itself, almost painfully so, “...I love you.”

#ig i needed to get this outta my system #yet again it is dottore bc i have no self control #genshin impact x reader #il dottore x reader #il dottore #作文

[akunoniwa]

if u don't play genshin with CN voices... please consider it...

#this is abt dottore specifically who wouldve guessed... Wu Lei..... #like i listened to dottore's EN scenes and uhm. Noah Fence............................................ #but CN Dottore............................................................. so good................ #all the performances in CN are impeccable #but im just gross abt dottore thank u for listening

[akunoniwa]

Prying

AN: i feel kinda evil bc the ending is sorta abrupt but this shit was getting too long babes... unless?

Synopsis: In which you and Dottore discuss pet names in conversation at first, putting them to good use not too long after...

Pairing: Il Dottore x fem!reader

Warnings: MDNI, Dottore finds your humiliation to be v irresistible..., use of 'master', 'daddy' (once! hear me out lmao), etc., mirror sex

WC: ~5.2k (she's long-winded, sorry, i think...)

You don’t understand the appeal.

As soon as you mentioned off-hand to Dottore that you didn’t understand why some thought it was hot to refer to their partners as ‘daddy’, he wouldn’t let you live it down. Not only did he find this addictingly humorous, but he also found himself curious… Perhaps you just never put it to proper use. Before you mentioned it, he didn’t have any opinions on the matter, let alone knowing it was a matter to begin with. But the fact that you were basically telling him that you would feel so degraded, so violated if you were to actually call someone this… He wanted to know, he wanted to weaponize this somehow, jokingly of course… He thinks.

“It’s just… Like, that’s how you address your father as a young child… Ya know?” You turned your head in the crux of your pillow towards him. You both lay in a leisurely type of bare, simply winding down from the day. Dottore had long set his book down, charmed by this topic.

“Well, wouldn’t it just… I’m not sure, darling… Some people are just so desperate to feel small, but I couldn’t tell you why or when it began. Sounds morbidly incestuous, to a degree.” You scanned his defined profile as he looked at the ceiling in thought, more committed to this investigation than you expected.

“Right? Like, why not ‘master’ or even… I dunno, someone not related to you?” You were waiting for this very reaction from him, a smirk pushing his fine smile lines to be visible.

“You never seem to call me any of those things…” Somehow the smirk dressed itself as a pout before your eyes.

“I– You never asked…? I don’t want to just randomly address you as something that might make you feel… Uncomfortable.” You must’ve forgotten who you were speaking to, a man who never seems to falter, a seasoned masochist. Even still, you stood your ground… In truth, the prospect of calling him anything other than his name simply embarrassed you, but you tried to keep that close to your chest in secret.

“I suppose you’re right.” He chose to respect your reasoning, “What if I asked?”

“Then I guess… If that’s what you like, I would do it.” You spoke matter-of-factly. In addition to the inherent embarrassment, you honestly found it hard to want to call anyone, any of those names, as you don’t usually give in that easily. This was something that only added fuel to his enduring fire, your playful resistance, the process of melting away your pride and dignity… All for him.

“You don’t even use my official title anymore. It’s almost funny, you’re the only one I like hearing my given name from, though usually, it’s only in here that I hear it.”

“Because you asked, you buffoon. You asked me to call you that because you told me you liked it.” You couldn’t keep a hold of your laughter any longer.

“Did I?” He remembers the day he did so, but found too much enjoyment in teasing you as he stroked his chin in faux thought.

“Maybe you should call me ‘master’.” Your giggles were running circles around the room.

“Would you like that?” He turned his head to you, his eye contact haunting you briefly, “Unlike a certain darling, I wouldn’t feel embarrassed to honor your filthy little wishes.”

“I said I would!”

It was his turn to chuckle, his deep voice resounding gently above you like its own duvet, “But you’d be reluctant, as you just informed me. Unfortunately, I find it amusing when you’re out of your comfort zone because I can tell when you’re just being your shy, bratty, self. You’d tell me otherwise.”

“Then we can both be masters.” Your laughter caved like a burst dam, dying at the thought of how ridiculous that’d be.

His face was hysterical, lips pressed so hard they’d lost their color as he tried not to let his laughter free, “I don’t know how that’d work… I don’t think we’d get anything done. Would we both be on our knees or just in a stalemate of power stances?”

“Stop– Stop talking.” The laughter was making your stomach tickle, unable to stop as he continued the hypothetical.

He rolled on his side to face you completely, “If we’re both standing in the power stance, how would one bend the other over their knee? It’s a logistical failure, darling.” His hand snuck over to gather a tear from your reddened face as your giggles died down. Perhaps being a buffoon wasn’t so bad if he got to hear your true laughter emanate from your infectious smile.

“I’d say we fight for the title, but… You’ve told me in various ways how you prefer to be the loser in that situation.”

“Try it,” you suggested, “Just try calling me master once, I wanna know how it feels.” A delicate, mischievous smile still lounged on your face.

An opening unlike any other, he’d overpower you with what you thought would be your pedestal. The sounds of blankets shifting flooded your ears as he moved to straddle over you, his powder blue hair hanging in ornate waves around his face.

“Is this not cheating?” You placed your hands on his blazing chest above you, your eyes lingering on how his arms flexed to hold himself over you.

“Only if you tell me it is… Master.” He didn’t hesitate, his eyes a deep, sappy scarlet, “You make the rules.” He referred to you like this so languidly, so heavily as he awaited what you might do next.

“I suppose I’ll allow it… I don’t feel very masterly when you’ve got me caged like this.” You took a liberty only the one ‘in command’ would, experimentally pinching his raised nipples for a reaction.

His long lashes fluttered as if a moth were shaking off dew. God, he wished you’d never stop, but he didn’t want to say that just yet, “Wouldn’t a master simply… Take control?”

He bent his arms to allow for his upper body to lean into you, his lips, taut once more in his trademark smirk, nearing your left ear, “Or… are you already stepping down?”

He felt your right hand slide down his front, anticipating your touch to collide with his exposed length, unfortunately the only thing he couldn’t conceal. He was easily aroused by you, though he was discovering… Toying with you like this, almost a perfect balance of submission was making his body rage for you. His willingness to even think someone had the higher ground was only because of you, finding that… Maybe he didn’t mind being controlled by you. But what really riled him was the thought of that pretty word leaving your mouth, so exasperated, barely able to think about anything beyond him.

Your hand sunk slowly against his searing, rigid body, not surprised to find he was already hard, his cock pronounced as it hung over you. You’d debated on touching him or not, but something about taking him into your hand was addicting… Just stroking his length, pulling on him deliberately from shaft to tip, as if you had him caught on a leash of your touch.

His voice, no matter the words or sounds that he used it for, was the key to your demise, deep with an alluring timbre. Quickly your mind was reminded, that he is the Second Harbinger… People find this man to be deplorable and menacing, his voice is only heard making barbaric commands or bickering with other deplorable, menacing Harbingers. All for good, supported, reason. But here, on top of his usual stony tone, grew flowers through the cracks of his demeanor, pollinated as you stroked him. His lips were so close… His shameless, sodden groans fall right into your ear. He was effortlessly always in control, knowing how susceptible you are to him.

“Don’t you want to tell me what to do, Master?” You wanted to punch him as he whined this into you, though not without defiance, his tongue shocking the helix of your ear, a trail of ice left behind. He wouldn’t dare allow himself to miss how your breath lurched in your throat.

You responded with a harsh enough pull on his cock to only remove your hand altogether, “You’re too good at this…” Not that you could mind too much. You pushed his chest in a way to urge him off of you, to which he easily obliged as you both switched places. His length pressed against his lower stomach as you sat over him to grind your pooled wetness along the underside.

“How long do you want to play pretend, darling?” You felt his hips gyrate up into you ever so slightly, “You clearly cannot get out of your mind, too busy wishing I was taking over it.”

You thought for a moment, wondering how you could catch him off guard… How you could make him lose himself, even for just a second. Your uncertainty was making it difficult, “How about…” You hesitantly removed yourself from him to retrieve a toy from your bedside drawer, laughing inwardly, almost nervously at his impending reaction.

He wouldn’t mind what you brought, his intrigue piqued as you revealed your futile efforts to best him in his own game. Your choosing a dildo could mean a few things in this situation… Did you want to fuck him? Was he to watch as you fucked yourself? He waited with bated breath, already missing your heat against him.

You returned to your position, a buzz of pleasure shooting through both of you at the continued contact. He’d do anything at this point, just wanting to see how far you’d go so he could obliterate you equally and more afterward.

After briefly taking it into your mouth, you dragged the wet tip along the center of his front, all the way up to his chin, “Would you suck cock for your master?”

A foreign feeling, not unlike pleasure, barrelled through him as he saw the look he was waiting for in your eyes, “You’re asking me?” Chills trickled through his body, all the way up through his nose as a pleased sigh.

“Be good for me… All you have to do is open your mouth…” You strung him along, though he was too turned on to care, parting his lips to allow you to slowly push into his mouth. He could feel your legs tensing on either side of him, your clit throbbing against his cock as he did so… This was so good.

“I wanna see your eyes.” You weren’t so much dominating him but rather he willingly entertained you by playing along, this is what he told himself anyway. Looking into your soul as his lips clung to the rubber so sweetly, his dextrous tongue working with more enthusiasm than you expected… You didn’t think he’d look so pretty doing this.

Once his spit generously coated the dildo, you dragged it from his mouth, depriving his twitching length of your sopping pussy as you sat between his opened legs. Opening your own, wide enough that he could see the lustrous stage you’d set. You easily slid the dildo, gleaming with his saliva, into your beckoning cunt as he was made to watch.

Well played, he thought… You looked so beautiful as your cunt clung to the dildo that was just in his mouth, your contorted face making it evident that you simply wanted to be filled… Your pace was slow with purpose as you imagined him fucking you like this… He wanted so badly to be inside you, to hear your abashed, small, voice call him dirty things. You swore you saw his cock jolt with impatience. 

His right hand lunged unhurriedly towards his sex, but you swatted it away, “You’re only allowed to watch.”

His lovely voice shaped as a threatening laugh met your ears. Threatening as in he’d let your antics wrack up to be used against you at the right time. His eyes were forced to shade themselves as he looked down over his toned torso, watching you intently. The only way you would be able to dominate him would be by his own hand… or cock. You had so many opportunities to learn from his example, though your mind was probably checked out at that point.

His movements to resist your words ceased, watching as you increased the pace of your self-assault, glorious sounds of your wetness snapping into his ears. His lower lip tucked between his teeth, your left hand playing mindlessly at the soft skin of his upper thigh… He couldn’t help but feel the fault lines of his heart threaten to burst at the lovely sight before him. It felt like his gaze alone was propelling your hand, the tension was caustic and heavy.

You brought yourself to the edge of your release, movements shaky as you caged over him like he’d done to you before. You only had to bring the toy to his lips for him to gladly collect your sweet, his moans, deeper than the Chasm, almost infusing with it as he did. He loved how your eyes branded him as you watched… Maybe you were learning something after all… How to adeptly destroy him, one glance at a time.

Setting the dildo aside, at this point, you just wanted to kiss him. His lips were glossed with a brew of spit and cum, but that only made it more enticing. Like leaves brushing against each other in a gentle breeze, your lips found his. His whole body felt particularly sensitive, your nips at his lips almost a tickle as you teased him. That is, until he captured your face between his hands, lifting his head to press up into you. It felt like the kiss had been placed into a kiln, searing and intense as he was exposing how much he just needed to have you. His heart attached to yours like jumper cables, reinventing what yearning felt like as his tongue swam against yours, disregarding aesthetics and grace.

You both were only left more of a mess than before. As you parted, briefly a salty thread of combined spit, like a spider web, hung between your lips before snapping silently.

His hands pressed down along your curves as if shaping clay, pausing at your waist. Your arms were growing tired, and you couldn’t keep your mind off the gravitational pull of your throbbing cunt, knowing how his cock merely sat in wait. You wanted to lay on his chest… For some reason, his grin only grew.

“Was it worth it? Do you feel transformed, master?” He batted at you with his words like a cat playing with its prey, knowing it was his turn, whether you decided that or not.

“You did well, darling.” You commented in a voice that mocked his own, causing you both to laugh in unison for the second time. Your head dropped in a forfeit as he squeezed your sides.

“Making fun of me, now… I see.” He clicked his tongue, returning to the program that he would see through to the end, “Go stand by the stool in front of the mirror.” He ordered as his hands dropped in time with a sensation of excitement in your stomach, starting with his interpretation of this act.

You obeyed, the kinetic flow of wanting to please leading you to where he directed. You were made to observe your naked body, though distracted when he approached from behind and sat beside you on the stool, “I want you to lay over me, your pretty ass perked for me.”

He could see a familiar gleam in your eyes that sent him universal, knowing you were following his every word like footsteps in snow. Bridged over his legs, his right hand found your plump ass as if it were a magnet, caressing your supple skin. You knew what his intentions were, though, bracing for how and when he’d deliver his first blow.

“Do you truly think, darling… That you’d be able to overpower me without me letting you?”

Whatever your answer was, he wanted to feel the recoil regardless, “You’d just tell me your submission was ‘playing along’ even if I did.”

His hand lifted but a few inches to collide with your ass cheek, gathering your flesh in his hand like a duvet, “It’s against your nature...”

You reeled in how he assumed his harsh demeanor so effortlessly, “Do you think the other Harbingers know you’d clearly bow to my will under your guise of controlling the uncontrollable?”

This clap to your ass felt more personal, making you wince as a squeak snuck out of your throat, “I don’t give a single fuck about those insolent boors. I’d not admit your curiosity in them, though you know I’ll just hit you harder.” Your eyes locked on his own in the mirror as he had well already caught onto your antics.

“So it goes… Perhaps I do wonder about them.” You pushed the topic over the cliff, the punishment he’d give could only really be a reward.

He tried to not allow his heart to be swayed by your taunts, “You think they aren’t familiar with your pathetic moans coming from my office?”

“If they’re anything like you, that’d only intrigue them further, I would think…”

Smack.

This time you gave him a moan of rejoice, growing addicted to the sting, his hand falling over the crest of your ass to explore your cunt. Your wetness overflowed to coat your clit as it threatened to drip, loving his aggression.

“Hmm… I’ve barely grazed your desperate cunt until now, and it seems you’re trying to insinuate something foolish. Then tell me, my sweet, insatiable, darling, what or who is it that you want?” His middle and ring fingers pressed into your soaked, petal-like lips, coaxing you to answer. 

You were debating… Should you weaponize another man’s name to provoke him… It feels like foul play, as you really had eyes for no other madman but himself, he knows this well. But what if…

“You’re always hanging around that opulent-looking one with glasses… Pantalone, was it?” You chose to improvise listlessly with war anyway.

He gritted his teeth, eyes diverting away from you for the first time. He knew you were just trying to play the cards you had, God, he knew. But something inside could not prevent the inherent, possessive tendencies from making some kind of appearance. Of all the Harbingers, of course you’d choose Pantalone as your mode of combat. He’s such a duplicitous excuse of a man.

His two fingers plunged into your hole, he watched as the muscles in your back tensed, feeling your front wriggle over his legs, “I see how he looks at you, darling. He is so acquainted with wealth, he’s used to having everything available to him… He sees you with me and knows his ability to be conscious of his own existence will be compromised if he even thinks about touching you.”

His hand retracted to instead give your weeping clit a generous slap, the wetness enhancing the sound, then sinking back into you. His lithe fingers felt so dizzying as they paced against your spongy walls, how could you think of anything but that?

“Really, I brought it up because the thought of them seeing you like this turned me on, not because I want to fuck them.”

“Invariably, if they somehow saw me like this, you’d be the only logical cause… Look in the mirror, look at yourself.” His free hand slid under your face to push your cheek in the mirror’s direction, “Who are you bent over so pitifully for right now? It almost sounds as if you’d like an audience…” He noted where your eyes were as you followed his roaming hand at your backside, “Tell me.” He demanded, swatting your ass once more. He couldn’t chain back the grin on his face, waiting to see which title you’d attempt to christen him with.

You weren’t about to give in to what he wanted most, your pure humiliation…, so you opted to at least repay him equally, “You, Zandik… Master.”

“Really…” His fingers returned to your sopping cunt, more so as a reminder rather than a means of pleasure, “I think you know what I want to hear… I’ll give you another chance.”

Your face cringed slightly, though that wasn’t enough to disguise the way your hole clenched around his stilled fingers at the thought, “Fuck…”

He hunched down to ensure his words were clear, “You brought this up… It was eating away at your mind so badly that you thought it was safe to bring it up to me? It’s at the tip of your little tongue, darling… Your face is such a tender shade of red…” His hand pumped slowly into you, as if to lure it out of you with his feigned compassion, “Tell me, pretty baby, whose fingers are inside you right now.”

Your eyes looked to the supposed heavens for a moment, “I hate you.”

He scoffed sharply, “That sounds more in character… You’d be such a contemptuous little brat for me…” He gathered your hair haphazardly, pulling your head upwards, somehow amplifying his ministrations, “Go on, who’s got you bent at his will.” His tone was low though infected with his shit-eating grin.

“Fine– You… Daddy.” Your voice had almost entirely checked out. You knew he wouldn’t let you leave this position until you did so.

He laughed a riot right into your ear, though hissed like the snake he is afterward at the sheer pleasure of winning, maintaining his pace, “You look as if you could hurl, darling, but I don’t think I’ve felt your cute cunt clench around me quite so hard… You’re dripping down my fingers, I ought to make you clean this mess up.”

You whined as he increased his pace, egging you on, “That’s right… So fucking tight…”

In actuality, he didn’t care much for the pet name but rather just your adorable embarrassment, so he decided he wasn’t convinced, “Why not embrace it a little more…” Getting you close to the edge, retreating his hand only to prod at your lips, “Why not taste your humiliation, since you hate calling me ‘daddy’ so much? Hmm?”

You were shivering as the denied orgasm left you high, though not so much dry, taking his slender fingers into your mouth. Your tongue weaved between them so as to clean them completely, his eyes sharp, jabbing into your face as he watched. That feeling again, as if an hourglass had been flipped, all the blood rushed to his core as he fucked your mouth with his hand. When he was satisfied with your work, he slowly dragged his soaked fingers along your back to trace back down. You shook at the chilling trail it left.

“Hmm,” There was an arrogant triumph to his voiced sigh, “So sensitive, too… It drives me crazy, darling.” He moved to grip your waist, urging you off of him, “I wonder… Would you suck cock for your master?” His words wagged their fingers in your ears as he adjusted you to sit on your heels before him.

“And you say I talk shit?” You ran your hands flush up his parted thighs, observing how cute his folded tummy looked as he sat, watching you. His faint happy trail, the glazed plains of his pale chest in contrast to his florid, angular face. For a moment, he said not a word, realizing how desperately he required your touch, in any capacity. His cock leaned heavily to the side, as if in its last attempt of an exhausted taunt for your lips. Your hands closed in on him, his eyes fluttering as they gently pulled at his flushed length.

“I love it when you moan for me…” You mentioned as an aside before taking his swollen tip between your velveteen lips. His head fell back, and a groan, like a smoke ring, hovered to the ceiling.

His fingertips pushed their way through your hair, though with no other intent but seemingly to distract himself from losing himself too soon. He played with your hair almost domestically, petting you along as you took as much of his throbbing cock as you could. You could tell he so badly wanted to buck into your mouth, your hands gripping him at the pivot of his thighs and hips as he writhed… You wished he’d let you in on this kind of raw desperation more often, as this version of him played in your mind so sweetly.

“Such a good girl for me, fuck.” He’d never called you that before, but the sensation it conveyed in your brain felt as if your soul had fallen out of the window of your body. He had you where you couldn’t refute it, making you swallow that, too, without resistance, “I knew you’d like that…” He laughed wickedly despite his exasperated state, and it felt so good, “My good girl…” He almost sang it down to you the second time, making your chest waver, coasting your hands upwards against his tense torso. He untangled his hands from your hair, easily blanketing yours against his waist, effectively lulled by the lush of your touch.

His fingertips dragged down the stretch of your arms, over the horizon of your shoulders to round back to your face, causing you to pause in wait. Your eyes lazily gravitated up to his own, his face was tipped as he peered over his nose in his lecherous way, “Come here, darling, where you belong…”

Upon your standing, he twisted you around between his hands to face away from him, then pulled down at your hips to finally lower your pliant, sobbing cunt onto him. The friction of his firm chest against your back alone was tantalizing enough, his hot breath steaming your skin from behind making your body slack in his grasp. A hand left your side, gripping his length to align himself. The initial pleasure of his tip making contact with the magma that was your arousal against him was suffocating, your eyes heavy with refined lust, though you couldn’t tear them away. He lowered you onto his cock at a meticulous speed, so dreadfully slow, you swear you could feel his pulse. His groan of contagious desire shot through your spine as you watched him disappear inside you as he left you to sit completely full of him for his own amusement.

“Look at you, pretty darling, how you like to watch yourself take my cock so beautifully.” His wet lips played on your shoulder blade to leaf between his words, “How I wish this very image were branded into my mind…” Moving towards the crook of your neck, your head inadvertently swayed to the side to allow access, his hands forcing your hips to grind in his lap. His teeth brushed over the sensitive base of your neck, your shoulders raising as he teased your skin. You felt as if you were losing your grip on a certain aspect of consciousness, the way his thick length stirred inside you, brushing and shocking every nerve.

“Keep moving just like that…” He instructed in a whisper as his hands left to tend to your breasts, adding yet another layer of dizziness as he pinched and kneaded. He loved the way the soft skin of your ass brushed against his inner thighs, your cunt tied and bowed around his shaft so perfectly. He’d pause at your neck here and there to peek at your face, a delirious focus on maintaining your movements… Your precious sounds that now flowed shamelessly from your lips, he truly could never get enough of you.

You tried to lift yourself, needing to be properly rearranged from the inside out, but he halted your attempt, unraveling a whine, “I know, I know… My good girl has been working so hard…” His eyes fixated on how your slick literally overflowed, trickling down to his balls in a lewd stream. How you squeezed around him upon that name… It was too much for him to bear, “You really do like that, huh darling?”

“Mmhm…,” is all you could manage, your thighs twitching impatiently, an indescribable feeling winding up your body, “God, please just let me move.”

“I didn’t even have to ask you to beg, you sorry little thing.” He guided you to lift, your vision flickering at the sheer strength of the awaited friction, “Tell me more… How much do you want me to fucking destroy you?”

You gave in to his game, unable to resist, “So badly, Zandik, please.”

Finally, your hole just barely reached the precipice of his raging cock, holding you there, “I could make you cum just like this, giving you only what you barely need as you wished I’d fuck you right– Please what?”

“Fuck… Please, please fuck me, I need your cock… Please.” You squirmed as your voice was hoarse and almost unfamiliar to even yourself as you pleaded.

He slammed you down onto him easily, given how soaked you were, hardly able to wait himself, “When you’re this wet, I would think my cock is the only thing you need.” He talked both you and himself into oblivion, sticky slick between both his and your thighs accentuating the frantic collision of your bodies. His fingers were soldered to your waist, gripping you as he moved your body at his pace, watching as your breasts flailed rhythmically in his thrusts’ wake. He wished there was a way to consume the buttery noises you were making on top of him as his own bled into them.

You adored how his lips hung open, how his brows tensed upward as he exhibited both complete focus and abandonment, his mind devoted only to the way he fucked you in this moment. You found him infuriatingly handsome as it is, but to see him so breathless, his vast vocabulary reduced to exclusively vile taunts, he was utterly ethereal like this.

His lips curled up as you eyed him so intensely, forcing you off of him, the sudden vacancy in your cunt making you want to scream. He stood behind you, feeling up your front as he did so, “I can’t describe the feeling I get when you look at me like that, darling…” He turned you to face him, hastily stealing your lips for a kiss that dug into your chest like his nails did your back as he searched your skin hungrily. 

Upon stopping, he moved to hold your chin in place, your face displayed in his hand like a gemstone gleaming in the prongs of a ring. His swollen lips were still close, his crimson eyes had a glow to them, almost, cascading a dense shadow of need over your features, “However I may call you, you will most importantly, always, be mine. …And I hope… I will always be yours, darling.”

#il dottore x fem!reader #il dottore x reader #il dottore smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #作文

[akunoniwa]

Wax & Wane

AN: I read through this a few times so hopefully there aren't too many errors...

Synopsis: In which Dottore thoroughly entertains your suggestion of wax play...

Pairing: Il Dottore x fem!reader

Warnings: MDNI, use of hot wax (probably not depicted in the most safe way, who knows)..., though really mostly just shameless, indulgent, sex

WC: ~4.3k

You managed to bring up your desperately wanting to try out wax play, to which he received with unmatched delight. He is insatiable, it seems, and despite knowing this well, you still had reservations when sharing your desires so blatantly. You were starting to think there was nothing he wouldn’t do if it involved toying with you.

He loved to have a glass of merlot over dinner, and this evening you decided to also partake, finding it an easy wine to lose track of.

He began shaking his head unprompted as he looked to you from across the table, “Your words have been haunting me all day, darling.”

You rolled your eyes playfully over your glass as you sipped. God, you hated how much you continuously wanted him. Truly. Despite his horrendous antics, here you were, dining with him almost only as a foreword. Anticipation blinded you with only visions of him. His body was sculpted so elegantly for whatever reason, and his hands were so soft they almost tickled being that he always wore gloves. His frame was quite broad compared to your own, you loved how he eclipsed your body, a comical oxymoron of safety was found in his treachery.

He liked to make a scene of the sex you had, making sure to wring you out for all you’re supposedly worth. His eccentricities shone particularly when he had his complimentary glass of wine. He made no effort to hide his grin, as he knew you both were not only on the same page but the same syllable. The theatrics were cupped in his upturned hand, his glass reflecting only the candle flames that blinked between you at the center of the table.

“You love playing with me as if you’re not as depraved as I am. As if you’d think I would be surprised that you want me to basically just burn you.” He clicked his tongue, his lips hanging slightly slacked, easily escorting his words to your end of the table, “I will hand it to you… I didn’t think of that one, though.”

“I like to at least pretend I still have morals sometimes. For fun.” You were more than acquainted with your lack of any care for how vile your relationship may appear.

“Just this morning, you asked me, of all people in Teyvat, to drip scalding hot wax on your bare skin. Not only that, you left me with that all day while you were away at work, as if I’d be able to get any work done with that shit on my mind.”

“It’s not my fault you’re such a dog. You always come to me with barbaric ideas, I thought I would contribute.”

He pursed his lips bitterly so as to challenge your name-call, “That’s rich. I love when you realize your power over me, darling… Your foul, little mouth.”

He stood to round the table, not letting you rise to your feet, hardly able to even set down your glass, “Call me a dog when you’re crying, begging for me, as you’ve shown me so many times before.” You may have actually angered him, but that wasn’t anything but a bonus as he’d never hurt you. That is, unless you asked nicely.

He pulled out your chair, making you giggle at his impatience, “Maybe I’d like to clean up the table first.” You goaded.

He ran his fingers through your hair delicately at first from behind as he stood wordlessly. You’ve let him know that you don’t mind him being a bit rough with you, so he took little time to bunch your hair into a makeshift ponytail in his hand, jerking you back slightly, “You love making me wait. I know you get off on that… I bet you’re clenching your cute thighs as we speak.” His voice was so pretty when it was skewed with unyielding heat.

His words being true made something fall inside your abdomen to your center, your sex already throbbing as a result of your day, too, being filled with thoughts of him, “Just making sure you prove that you really need it.”

He pulled you further back, slowly, wishing he could inhale your deviant expression as his gaze dropped heavily into yours, “You’re always what I need, I’d never be able to hide that from you.” His subtle change in tone to a coo was almost manic, making your heart stumble. You were reeling in the discomfort of being pulled back, your neck straining so delightfully in his grasp. His free hand slid over your shoulder to feel up your chest, making your gaze falter at the sensation.

“I love it when you tease me…” He squeezed your left breast firmly, noting your purposeful lack of a bra.

“I know… Yet you complain.” Your hand covered his. Sometimes, you were reminded that being with him like this was like befriending a lion. Fucking a harbinger wasn’t ever something you envisioned… Let alone seemingly requiring it.

He freed you from his grasp, removing himself from you reluctantly, “Fine. If you feel so obligated to waste time, then I’ll wait.” He retreated back to his chair.

Not that it mattered, but clearing the table was usually a team effort between you two, though you used this task to your advantage this time. You downed the rest of your wine, standing leisurely to saunter around the table and retrieve all of the dishes as he watched. He was easily riled with a day’s worth of thoughts of you plaguing him, his slacks no longer as slack as he’d prefer. Even the way you paced to and from the kitchen was driving him up the decadent dining room walls, your nightgown clearly too short. He loved how you looked in that black satin… 

His eyes beamed into you, and a ghost of a smile possessed your face as you needlessly taunted him by doing nothing to him at all.

“I never would’ve guessed when I first met you that you’d be so easy to mess with.” You spoke slightly louder from the kitchen, frustration broiling as he heard the sink begin to run. Were you really going to hand-wash them too?

He let a hand shamelessly palm his hardening length as you were angled just enough over the sink to cause the hem of your gown to rise. You noticed he didn’t reply, looking over your shoulder to meet his boring gaze as he nonchalantly touched himself. The sight was delightfully crude, making your insides resonate with need, “You can’t fucking wait? You always scold me for not waiting for you.”

“Come here.” He hardly ever managed to intimidate you, and he knew this. There was an ultimate desire that propelled your obedience. Your eyes rolled a second time as you pushed out an unstable sigh. The sink was off, and after your hands were generously dried, you padded over to him.

You took it upon yourself to replace his hand with yours, bending over to reach, “So good… Already so beyond repair for me.”

His hands reached to encircle your waist, as he stood, “I love it when you try to take control, darling, it’s so sweet.” It was a constant battle of dominance as he belittled you with his words. He lifted you to set you on the table, already planning for this by having the dining room only lit with his favorite stick candles.

He wasted no time in unbuttoning your slip, his expression tightening as you were, in fact, wearing nothing beneath, “Fuck.”

You adored how he seemed to react so breathlessly each time he saw your bare form.

You shimmied yourself out of the armholes, allowing him to toss it aside somewhere as he pinched your rosy nipples. This only lasted a moment before his fingers were abruptly replaced with his mouth, lightly biting occasionally as you held his head in your chest. Your response was reduced to a moan that drifted freely from your mouth as he kissed up your chest.

His lips landed on yours like a fallen leaf, though only briefly, “So describe again what you want.”

You took it upon yourself to turn behind you to grab a candle from the candelabra, “Simple. Just…” You began to tip the candle, only to be stopped by his hand.

He kissed you once more, grabbing the candle from your hand carefully so as not to extinguish it, wanting to have the first drop. He found this idea to be increasingly idiotic, but it made his body feel as if it’d be absorbed into a violent black hole of pleasure at the thought.

His first image was of how delicious it’d look to have your plump breasts glazed with hot wax… How you’d wince, how your cunt would sob just the same. So he did just that.

He watched as the searing liquid overflowed from the top of the tilted candle onto your sensitive breast, your face threading with piercing pleasure. He was in disbelief, hearing you whine with need where you should be writhing in pain. The white liquid dripped salaciously for only a moment, hardening quickly… He knew you well at this point, though this would not prevent welcome disbelief from flooding him.

He laughed at your pleasure, “You’re so divine, I really wish I could just destroy you.” Another drop landed on the top of your right breast, causing you to cry out this time as the pain mounted.

He was entranced. And incredibly aroused. His expression was hard to divert your eyes from, his own the color of a fresh wound. Though at the same time, his aura was too heady to face.

Your head fell back in dejection, “I can barely even look at you, Zandik, fuck.”

“Lay back, then.” He moved further between your legs to lean over you, dripping more onto your flattened stomach, watching the drops glide over your side. You continued to whine, tensing each time a new drop made contact. The wax was, of course, incredibly hot, being that the drops were small in diameter, you were somehow able to adjust to this kind of pain. In addition to this, you were becoming gravely aware of his clothed cock pressing into your core as he hunched over you, supported only by his free hand on the table.

He moved to set the candle down only to reach down and feel up your sopping hole without any warning, “Exactly how you should be.”

You wished you could feel his fingers inside you, though he opted to circle your clit from above, “Open your eyes, darling.”

You knew there’d be a wave of relentless need that would roll over you as you captured his eyes, hesitantly obliging. He looked gorgeous, those same pieces of hair he intentionally styled to frame his face obscured his disastrous gaze. His pace only increased upon finding your pitiful irises.

He lowered over you further yet, talking to you as if you were a child, “What’s wrong?” Sometimes he will remind you of the stranger you were aware of before you got to know him. Frigid and needlessly abominable, all of his wretched deeds would flash before you. His work still revolved around such things… Perhaps you were just as despicable for ignoring reality.

“You’re thinking far harder than I prefer,” He began again, his cyclic assault halting, “I ought to fuck every worthless thought out of your body.” He reprimanded you as he gave your clit a gentle slap, his mood never stood steady.

“I was just thinking about you… And how daft I am for always wanting you so badly.”

He blinked at you, your words both sour and sweet, “You’ve been with me for over two years and you still find it necessary to say those things out of self-preservation? You’ve wept for me, bruised your dainty little knees for me, and you still hold onto those delusions? You’re sick, darling, as am I. So why not just give in and romanticize it?” He paused to consider for a moment, “If you felt so guilty, I don’t think you’d be so wet for someone like me. That’s precisely why you’re wet, no? You’re obsessed with how criminal this seems,” He mused with his signature, toothy grin, “You wither on my cock over and over, my darling flower.”

He parted from you, stripping himself of his usual, blue button-up, swiftly moving on to remove anything that clouded his form. He rested his length almost proudly on top of your pubic area, teasing you as it served no obvious purpose but making you wait.

“You always cum so beautifully for me when I read your mind to you… I know you. You want me to acknowledge how desperate you are, verbalize your shame until there’s nothing left to expose.” He loves talking to you like this, and it never fails.

His eyes were trying to devour you whole as you lay under the acidic shower of his words, “There’s nothing wrong with me for realizing how twisted you are. I think you’re similar to me… You take pride in being reassured that you’re a malignant man.”

He teased you further, gently grinding his tip through your blushed folds, “Tell me, then. You like being fucked into oblivion by worthless men.” His eyes were shaded by the valances that were his heavy lashes.

“I know that I don’t like waiting to be fucked by said men.”

“That’s too bad.” He jeered, lightly tapping his tip on your pronounced clit, “I thought you just wanted me to braise your skin with wax?” He retrieved the half-burned stick, waiting for your feedback. He would certainly be an evil to be reckoned with should he insist on not giving in to you at this state.

“Anything. Do anything at all.” You wailed, just needing a sense of his completion.

“Stand up for me.”

You sat up as he stepped back to allow you room to stand before him. He turned you with his free hand, and in one fell swoop, you were pushed over the table. Your ass was perched expectantly, much to his pleasure, though he found this only to be more surface area to ruin. He took no time to allow a blazing drop to collide with your mid-back, ensnared by your twitching and recoil. He wanted to find out how tight your pussy would squeeze his raging cock upon each drop. He lubed himself with your slick as he spread through your wetness, though since  it was in abundance, this didn’t take but a moment.

He routinely liked to be gradual about his filling you, his receptive tip being all that he’d permit in the beginning. How it’d pop in and out, those carnally wet sounds, he couldn’t help but let you in on his satisfaction from behind. As expected, your elastic heat throbbed around him, bewitching him. In tandem with your hazy moans, his entire physical being felt as if it were inside you, filling you like insulation, molding to your cloying walls.

He decided to push himself into you just a bit further, following your sounds as judgment. You wish his abysmal voice would swallow you whole, each time he’d let out a groan you’d shudder. You both were aptly captivated by one another.

He surprised you with a shallow thrust being paired with another drop, making you damn near scream in earnest, the sensations being so overwhelming.

“Mm,” He laughed through a groan in pure satisfaction, “I like it when you make sounds like that.” His sadistic interests suited him well and naturally, for better or for worse. You knew he wasn’t saying that just for show, he preferred your pleasure to be agonizing.

He hasn’t yet bottomed out in your salivating cunt, savoring your appetite, how you shook.

Another drop, closer to your ass this time, timing it with another push into you, hoping to lure out an orgasm, to feel you tense so hard, he feels everything and nothing all at once.

You felt genuine tears prick, and you weren’t sure if you felt lucky or disappointed that he couldn’t see, but you knew he was holding back. His pace wasn’t enough to blind your senses with friction, acting as a different advantage to feeling his bare, veiny cock inside you. How it’d bow your walls at his dizzying, legato tempo.

He loved how the wax would dry, looking reminiscent of a symbolic load being painted onto your backside. He noticed your sounds were becoming slightly congested, grinning at the thought of the tears you requested raking down your face. How you asked and received.

“As soon as you feel safe with me, you want me to do increasingly concerning things to your precious body…” He set down the candle, content with the work he created on your skin. A rhetorical babble, as his hand being free made it easy to grab the flesh of your hips to finally press the entirety of his strained length into your beckoning void for a hole.

That lovely sound of complete unity fell from both of your lips, a feeling impossible to top, curses following not too long after as he held himself there, “Fuck, I could just fill you right now...”

“Don’t cum yet…” You just found joy in edging him for as long as possible, even if you too were at the brink.

“Or what? What would you do? Lose yourself at the feeling of being full of my cum?” His words were only spoken to be as vulgar as possible, leaning over your bent form. You could feel his hardened abs against your spine, his voice being so close that your neck tingled.

“Don’t you want to cum?” He whispered low, his voice humid against your ear as the questioning tone strung you along. He had nothing more to give, but rutted his hips into you anyway, deeper than deep, “Hmm?”

“Fucking… Yes.” You lost your grip on your words.

Somehow even this quiet, his voice vibrated through you, “You need to cum.” His words were becoming almost hypnotic as he toyed with you, hips pressing into your plush ass. He kissed the cheek that wasn’t flattened against the table, proceeding to lick up from your jaw to the apple of your cheek, tasting salt, “Your tears are heavenly…”

He was so oppressive, everything about him was compressing you into only being worth serving this moment.

“Touch yourself. I’m not moving until you cum on my cock.” He ordered, and you followed his words, forcing your hand between your body and the table to reach for your dripping clit.

He knew exactly when you began, your pussy managing to tighten even more, your body convulsing as your moans were impossible to restrain. He laughed faintly into your ear, delirious, “Useless. You look so useless.” He wasn’t lying his full weight on you, holding a tense plank-like pose to make sure you felt all of him, “I want your cum… I want all you have, give it to me.”

It didn’t take but a few rounds on your clit and the fixation of his cock warming inside you to finally release against him, and as soon as you unraveled, he lifted himself to fuck you without mercy. Your noises were muted in absolute overstimulation as he chased his own orgasm, his cock easily flying in and out of your welcoming hole.

“Over and over, darling. Because I’m just a fucking dog.” His words were finely grated between his teeth. Your comment earlier may have actually benefited you.

“Please.” You vaguely urged him, wanting so desperately to feel that euphoria of being filled with his viscous load.

“I know you know how to use your words, you chose quite the arrangement of them just moments ago.” He dragged you closer to him, causing the runner and everything on it to shift. The slight change in angle makes you grapple for nothing aside from the polished wood of the table that shakes beneath you.

He quickly vacated from you, watching as your stretched hole wept for attention, imprisoned by the lust he felt as your creamy sweet finally dripped over, “You never want true control, darling, but I love playing your games anyway. You want to piss me off, make me seethe until I make you into my dearest doll.”

You felt your cunt constricting on emptiness as he read you once more, “I think I have a certain type of control over you that you don’t prefer to recognize…” It was slightly embarrassing, the amount of effort it took to speak back to him.

He let a hand land forcefully on the right side of your ass, gripping your flesh, “Games, darling. I knew the first time I fucking looked at you, you wanted games. But perhaps…” He made sure to not spare a drop of your delicately flowing wetness, gathering it to push back into you, “You’re right.” He refused to move once more, stroking himself into you so as to give you nothing but false hope, “So tell me, with this so-called control you have, how do you want me to play with you?”

Your inner thighs twitched as you wished he’d simply move, “I know you want to cum, yet you stall anyways.”

“It’s only when I stall that you show me your true requirement of my cock… Why wouldn’t I stall for a performance like that?” He sheathed into you, forcing a moan to reverberate through you from your core finally to your lips, “Fuck…” He swore, sounding so good as he slowly lost his ground.

“I want to hear more of you… Please…” You begged fervently, the pleasure from feeling so full rendering you a peaceful kind of thoughtless.

He reverted back to a steady pace, the kind that still would not numb you beyond feeling the indentations of his cock running against your insides. His voice unraveled into one you never initially imagined would leave his mouth upon seeing him. You were so flooded, so easy to fuck… He couldn’t tear his eyes away from how your cum coated his swollen length. You knew when he finally shut his mouth that he was unable to berate you with his prodding words, only focused on sensations alone.

“You’re close…” You stated to him, observing how only moans spilled onto your back, “Baby, I want you to cum inside me so badly…”

Your words were so sickening to him, though he bottomed out in you once again to stop. From deep within his sweat-glazed chest, a groan of utter completion restrained him, his head falling back as if finding a debauched kind of enlightenment as he took you. You desperately wanted to fuck yourself into him, but there was no space between you two to allow it. He was so good to you, you thought, his venomous touch was narcotic… Or perhaps you were merely too far gone, seeing as he was just holding you against him, cock pulsing as he held onto everything he had.

“How badly…?” His sheer, satin voice veiled you from behind, if your cunt was wound any tighter he’d be unable to stand.

You really couldn’t compose a sentence, rolling your hips for some kind of movement, “Zandik, please… Please.”

He felt so much raw pleasure in this state, he could find this nowhere else… He felt violent, almost strangely suicidal in how he was at such a precipice of contentment and obsession as your words twirled around him like lethal fumes. He heard your plea repeat in his mind as he rolled into you once more, quickly at a merciless engine’s speed, needing his release to disintegrate a piece of him.

Your noises were so delightful, so shameless as he leaned over you at an angle to provide unwavering leverage, “Tell me, please.” He required your words so helplessly, hastily grabbing your arms from your side to cuff your wrists on your back.

“Zandik…!” You only cried his name, all your pride was easily fucked away between his thrusts.

Abruptly, he folded over you with his final pass into you, ensuring you felt his load as deeply as possible, your body arching upwards into him as the sensation of his release pushed you over a second time. His melodic groans of satisfaction sang you through each of your highs as his hips jutted into you so as to spend you entirely.

“Fuck yes…” He sighed heavily, “My little darling.” He squeezed your cuffed wrists in his hand one last time, freeing them as he chased his breath.

You hummed, your forehead resting on the table as your chest heaved… You felt so full as he held you still, forced to feel his cum mingle with yours. He claimed to have a few ‘favorite things’, but watching his cum spill from your wasted cunt may have been number one. He kissed your upper back repeatedly, painting you with his lips as you anticipated his retraction.

Your cunt still waved against him as he pulled dreadfully slow from you, your face contorting with a different, used kind of pleasure.

“Oh, God…” You whined, entirely gone as he let his cock drop lifelessly from your hole, a concoction of your liquids truly pouring out. A feeling so diabolic, irreplaceable, it made your body wilt.

“Fucking gorgeous.” He watched as cum pooled on the hardwood floor below, an image of you licking it up caressed his thoughts, but he ignored it… This time.

#sorry mfs but not really i am so down bad for dottore its nauseating #il dottore #dottore x reader #dottore x fem!reader #genshin x reader #genshin smut #作文