Enjoy These Headcanons While I Work On Another Tighnari Request.

Enjoy these headcanons while I work on another Tighnari request.

How many rounds?

Characters: Itto, Tartaglia, Kazuha, Tighnari

Reader: Gn, Sub!Bottom for Itto and Tartaglia, no roles established for Kazuha or Tighnari so could be power bottom

Genre: Smut // CWs next to the corresponding character

Different types:

1. Trying for a new record/pushing the limits

2. Until satisfied or tired/a few rounds

3. Just 1 or 2 rounds

Itto – Type 1

Quickies, overstim, implied praise, implied oral

Itto takes almost everything as a challenge or a game, and sex with you is no different. It's almost as if he's trying for a new record of orgasms every time you guys fuck. He always pushes you to your limits, wanting to find out exactly what makes you tick and what gets you cumming the fastest. Itto loves quickies, planning to use his findings to make you both cum as fast as possible. But you just feel so good, he can't help but start the process all over again, pushing you both into another round, and another, and another after that...

He has very good stamina, and while he can get tired out after a while, it won't be before you.

Even though he can go a few more rounds, when you're done, so is he. It just isn't as good when you're not there or if you're too tired to continue or help him out. Even if he's still raring to go, he won't take care of himself and jack off. But if you want to help, be it with a blowjob or using your hands, anything you want, he certainly won't be opposed.

If you do help him cum again, or even a few more times after you tap out, it makes him feel so special and he can't help but let his praises spew from his mouth, it just makes him fall in love with you so much more. He'll be sure to repay the favour in the morning if you want, but until then, he'll gently clean you up even after you've already passed out, your energy zapped after his rough fucking. And if he accidentally wakes you up while doing so, he'll just apologise with a lazy grin as you drift back to sleep.

Tartaglia – Type 1

Cw: Overstim, rough sex, teasing, implied praise

Since Childe is often away from you for weeks, if not months at a time due to his work, he makes up for it during your sessions together. Working you to your farthest point, he doesn't stop until you couldn't possibly take any more. He gets very carried away, but more so he wants to know just what the both of you are capable of, even when it gets a bit uncomfortable or painful after a while of the overstimulation.

When he gets rough with you, it's mainly because he's so pent up and missed you too much while he was gone. He just can't bring himself to stop, wanting to be close to you for as long as possible, and he doesn't always know when he'll be pulled away again. He definitely loves to tease you, to see how far he can push you before your begging turns to incoherent whimpers. However, the torment doesn't usually last for as long as you'd think. He can't hold back from taking you for long. Once you start crying, his resolve crumbles just like that, his harsh words switching to eager praise as he lines himself up to your slick hole.

He may be mean, but overall he just wants to take care of you. No matter how intent he is on breaking you down for the night, he never wants you to be too uncomfortable. Even in the heat of the moment, Tartaglia is always looking for any hints of discomfort in the way you move, the faces you make, the sounds that leave your sore throat... if he thinks you're done for the night – regardless of any mumbled protests on your end – he's pulling away and getting you ready to settle down for bed, passing you a cup of water and rubbing over all the sores he's left on your aching body.

Kazuha – Type 3

Cw: Body worship, soft sex, praise

It's enough for Kazuha to just enjoy your body, taking his time as he worships you and learns everything about how you look, feel, and how to touch you to bring you pleasure during your intimacy with him.

The majority of his time during these moments is spent preparing you, bringing you to the edge as many times as you want, encouraging and praising you all the while. His eyes never leave you, never once having his attention stolen by anything else. He looks at you as if you're the only thing that matters, and he tells you as much with every kiss he plants to your hips, your hands, your shoulders, anywhere he can reach.

When it finally comes time for him to join you in pleasure, though he would be perfectly content just to service you until you're ready to sleep, he takes things slow. Taking care not to overwhelm you, Kazuha guides you into the most comfortable position possible as he makes love to you, constant whispers of his love swirling around in your ears as he carefully takes you apart again, this time following you into the haze of bliss.

Laying there, content and unmoving, his hands slowly bring you back to the present as they gently press against your heated skin, soothing the shocks and twitches of pleasure that still shoot through your system. If you want to go again, he will glaldy comply, but if not, he'll comfort you with his his heat, his closeness, and his voice as he coaxes you into the most relaxing sleep you've ever had together.

Tighnari – Type 2

Cw: Needy sex and soft sex (I think that's all for him?)

Because of his status as a Forest Watcher, Tighnari is understandably quite tired when he comes home in the evening, due to all the physical activity that the job entails. As such, his... "needs" can be quite unpredictable. He can go weeks without realising how long it's been since he last spent the night intertwined between the sheets with you. His mind following his body's fatigue, on these days he instead opts to spend the night cozied up to you as you cuddle in bed and blearily whisper about your days.

But when his work eases up on him, some nights, he's almost insatiable. Confusing patterns and unstable thrusts meet your thighs as he tries to find a rhythm that fits his impatient mood, nails digging into your hips and waist as he tries to hold back. He has you moaning and whining continuously beneath him as he pants into the side of your neck, cumming over and over until he feels like he can't bear to move a single inch away from you anymore, the lustful glaze over his eyes eventually wearing off.

Other times, he draws out your night together. Slowly licking his way down your throat, his teeth nipping teasingly at your pulse point, Tighnari takes you slowly and lovingly, showing you the attention you'd both craved through recent weeks. He makes it up to you easily, the pleasure bringing you both together as if you'd never even been apart as his tender hands knead into your soft flesh, heartfelt apologies being spoken into your forehead and signed with a kiss.

Want to send a request/brainrot with me? Check my rules!

Thank you for reading! 🩷

Hiii!! I love your writing, especially with Tighnari. He’s one of my favorites, and I love that you write for a dominant reader.

Can you please do a fic (plot) with Tighnari and a female reader who comes to the forest to study fungi, and they bond over being forest nerds? And then, he’s kind of pining for her, and when he confesses he admits he wants her to take charge, because he loves seeing her like that—and she uses a fungus to make him more sensitive when she does?

Want to skip the lead up? Look for the NSFW sign that marks the smut!

Cordyceps mishaps

Character: Sub!Tighnari // Reader: Dom!Afab

Genre: Smut // CW: Handjob, aphrodisiacs, slight teasing, brief masturbation, implied vaginal sex, slight power imbalance (he's your mentor)

Plot: Yes // Word count: 5.5k

When you'd made plans to come to Sumeru, this wasn't how you'd planned your first day to go.

With the climate being much hotter and humid than you were used to, it was understandably hard for you to acclimate to the differences fast enough to be totally comfortable. However, it all would be worth it for the new plant species that you'd get the see, the forests of Sumeru providing a scale of plant life larger than in any of the other nations.

Sure, you had read books about the trees, the flowers, the fungi; but words on paper were never a match for real-world experience. For years, you'd wanted to see them first-hand, to find them in the wild and study them to find your own consensuses. And now, you finally had the chance to do so. The only downside was that, since you didn't know anyone in Sumeru, you'd had no idea what to expect. Or where to go.

Which is how you got yourself lost within the first two hours of finally making it across the border of Liyue.

"Follow the paths." They'd said.

"Follow the paths." You'd repeated to yourself.

But, of course, through the gap between the trees, you'd seen an interesting flash of colour. Perhaps a new plant you'd never seen before? Maybe one from the sketches you'd seen in the books?

You didn't stay on the path.

And, now, half an hour later, you were lost, distressed and disappointed, because there was no flower at all. And from what you could tell, there was no one else around that could help. The silence in the air felt unnatural and precise, as though the forest itself was watching you, waiting on your every move, every thought, every breath. And with dusk not far from falling, you really didn't want to spend your first night here cold, alone and frightened of your surroundings, let alone lost.

... But there was nothing else for you to do. You'd tried turning back the way you'd came, but you still couldn't find the path. Plus, you didn't want to accidentally stay further into the forest. If you had any hope of being found by someone who could help, you had to stay at least close to the paths. Your common sense told you you'd be better off just staying exactly where you were.

Until you got distracted again.

Out of the corner of your eye, half hidden by the shadows cast down upon them by the surrounding trees, lay a patch of small orange mushrooms, all intertwined and reaching outwards in awkward angles. To you, they looked quite familiar... where had you seen them before?

Moving closer, completely focused on trying to identify these strange mushrooms, you pay no mind to the shadow shifting behind you.

From what you'd read in the books, there were no known species of fungi that were dangerous to touch, only causing problems when ingested. Taking mental notes of your findings, you examine them: the unusual slim and long form of the mushrooms set them apart from the common crowd of fungi, looking suspiciously similar to the cattail reeds which grew to the side of rivers and ponds. Putting on some spare gloves to prevent harmful juices or powders getting on your hands, you remove a small mushroom from the cluster, bringing it to your face while maintaining a safe distance and inhaling the scent that it emitted.

Cocoa.

... Well then. These were rare, that much you knew. And they weren't poisonous, either, from what you can remember – though you're hardly going to trust your memory when it comes to a plant you can't remember the name of. But you did remember the properties and effects. They were... interesting, to say the least.

"Cordyceps militaris."

"Agh-?!" You let out a shrill scream, whirling around on your feet and coming face to face with the man who had snuck up on you, an amused smile plastered on his face. Upon realising that he wasn't making any threatening advances towards you, you rest your hand on your chest as you calm down, your panicked breathing evening out.

Even though he clearly felt no shame in sneaking up on you like that and scaring you half to death, he was at least gentlemanly enough to allow you time to recover before he started talking again.

"This fungus is Cordyceps militaris. You should be careful interacting with it if you don't know what you're doing." He then proceeded to lean against a tree to the side, glancing down at the said fungus as if in thought.

"Excuse me? I know perfectly well what I'm doing!" You huffed, crossing your arms. Who was he, anyway? He finds a random girl in the middle of the forest who is obviously not from here, barely any daylight left, and instead of offering to take her somewhere safe, he wants to criticise your mushroom handling skills?!

"Oh, my apologies." He looked back up at you, tail flicking as though he were agitated with you, "I'd assumed that if you knew what you were doing, you would've worn appropriate gloves." He gestured to your hands, a humorous glint in his mischievous eyes.

Confused, you turn your own hands over to inspect them, only to be met with a glaringly obvious hole directly across the palm of the glove. Huh... must've snagged them on a branch at some point.

Embarrassed and left with little argument, you settle for staying silent, admitting defeat before you were further humiliated. It wasn't that bad, really. You just got caught out being a bit careless.

"...Anyway, mind handing that over?" He points to the small mushroom still held between your fingers, holding out a small pouch for you to place it into. Wordlessly, you drop it into the bag, stepping back upon doing so to create some more distance between you. "For a newcomer, you sure do know how to pick a good sample instead of just breaking it off at the base."

"I studied in some of the other nations, but Sumeru's variety was much more appealing. I thought I'd learn faster if there was more to see and do."

"I see. If I may, I think you made a good choice. Sumeru has lots to offer for both academics and plant life." He reaches out to take your hand, his gaze softening to be more friendly. "I'm Tighnari, Forest Watcher."

You hesitate slightly before placing your hand in his. "Y/N."

"Well then, Y/N, seeing as it's getting dark and you've been stumbling around the forest for the better half of an hour, what would you say to me taking you back to our main outpost? It's not much warmer, but the people there are friendlier than anything you'll come across in the wild late at night."

"...I'd say that I'd appreciate that very much, Forest Watcher Tighnari."

And so, without another word, you follow him to Gandharva Ville, where you stay for the night.

...

Tighnari couldn't believe how far you'd come in such short time. When you'd told him about your previous meticulous studies on wildlife –particularly plants and fungi – of course he'd believed you. He'd seen your proficiency that very same night that you met, discarding the... incident... with the gloves. Though he did still bring it up every now and then, just to keep you on your toes. He loved to see how flustered you'd get when he mentioned it, the little pout accompanied by the scowl you'd shoot him before the full sentence had even left his smiling lips making all of your sneaky little revenge plots well worth it.

However, that thought process had brought to mind the very serious problem that had been plaguing his mind as of late – or, really, since he had met you.

His feelings for you.

How passionate you were about learning the ways of the forest. How determined you were to improve at the job and impress the people around you (himself included). Even the way you held the other Rangers accountable for their mistakes, scolding them with no remorse, only to soften as you carefully explain the correct conduct, guiding them through with a gentle yet stern voice. He loved to see it.

He'd never say it out loud, except to himself, that your harsh words and strict voice had caused him to grow hot under the collar on quite a few instances. Even if he was just barely in earshot, he'd have to scurry away before you rounded the corner to see his blushing face, heading straight to his own quarters to... ahem... "make himself presentable."

At least, that was what he'd always said upon being asked, but it never made sense to you. He looked the exact same every time he came back! What could he possibly be doing in there that was so important?!

He hoped you wouldn't find out... not before he revealed the truth – well- half of it – tonight, resigning himself to whatever fate you had in store for his highly strung heart.

It had to be tonight. He couldn't drag this out for any longer.

...

One book; two books; three books; four. All stacked relatively neatly atop each other, placed next to a quill pen and subsequent pot of black ink.

Once a week, you meet up with Tighnari to go over all of your recent notes: mainly focused on any incidents or warning signs you find out in the field and comparing your new notes on the fauna with previous ones. This helped to tell if any differences were arising with the locale, and it made clear the progress you were making when it came to your studies on the plants.

Considering you were usually a bit later than agreed upon, Tighnari knew that he'd have a spare few minutes to prepare himself for your arrival. Perfect. His nerves had been catching up to him all day since he'd decided to finally talk to you about his feelings tonight. His hands were shaking, his tail stiff between his legs and his breath was hard to catch. Tighnari paced back and forth through the room, rethinking his plans as he straightened out his hair, which had gotten ruffled from his continuous gripping and pulling.

This wasn't like him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this affected by someone. But... he was officially your mentor... was it wrong for him to have feelings for you of this nature? He'd rifled through his thoughts too many times to count, arguing with himself about how inappropriate it was for him to act like this around you, to think of you in this way, but all he could ever come away with was hardly comforting to his confused mind.

You were mostly on par with his own knowledge on the ecosystem, having almost completely caught up with him due to how eager you were and how often you insisted on having these meetings. It wasn't as if he were at much of a higher level than you, nor were your ages out of balance. Really, you were both the same. It was just the job title itself that separated the two of you and made him cast some doubt on himself.

However, the situation wasn't as big a deal as Tighnari's mind made it out to be. He knew it wasn't.

The other Forest Rangers and Watchers murmured and gossiped about the two of you near daily, that much he knew. They weren't very subtle, and they did know of his heightened hearing, so surely they didn't care if he heard or not? But... what if...-

Tighnari stood stock still in the middle of the floor.

What if they were all letting him hear on purpose to push him into confessing?

His face reddened slightly as he overthought every little interaction he could remember between the two of you, where the other Rangers had been able to see. Had he been too obvious all along?! Did you already know and by confessing tonight he would just make a fool of himself?!

*Knock, knock*

Tighnari sighed, his ears falling flat to the sides of his head as he tried to push the tension from his shoulders and creased brow.

He couldn't tell you.

...

Already, it was half way through the night. The candles he had set through the room had slowly dwindled until barely three remained alight: the first, on a shelf behind you, giving the perfect backdrop of warmth for him to see you in from his seat across the table. The second, on a counter to the side, directly between both of you, illuminating the profiles of his and your faces. The third, on the table you're both sitting at, on the far end at a safe distance from all the vulnerable paper, but close enough that it prevents your shadow from obscuring your vision of the paper in front of you.

When the final candle melted down to the last of the wick, you took it as your que to leave. It symbolised the night coming to an end, and really, by the time the candles had burned all the way down, you were too tired to continue. What Tighnari had hoped you didn't notice, was that throughout his year with you, he had been slowly introducing new candles to his home, until now, there were almost double the amount he'd started with.

You had noticed.

Currently, only a few note sheets remained to check through. You carded through them, rearranging the ones you'd already read into a neater pile, before picking up your quill and sprawling some more notes onto the paper on the table in front of you.

Tighnari watched as you wrote, your handwriting had slowly descended over time as you got more and more tired through the evening. At this point, I was messy and scratchy, and half of the page didn't match the other half. From where he was sitting, he couldn't read what you were writing. He knew for a fact that you wouldn't have a clue in the morning, either. But he didn't tell you, because you always came to see him again for further clarification. That, and he thought it was cute.

Just as he was getting lost in his thoughts, gaze caught on the movements of your pen, a flicker behind you caught his eye. When he looked up, his eyes finding the candle at the back of the room, the flame drew its last breath, dying out not even two seconds later.

His eyes catch on the scene, watching as the final drops of wax drip down the side of the candle –or what is left of it, at least. The room behind you has been swallowed by shadows, only a faint glow from the remaining two reaching across the floor. But when he drags his eyes back to you, you haven't even noticed, completely transfixed by your notes.

The quiet scratching of the quill against parchment lulls the both of you into a serene silence, feeling no need for conversation, just enjoying each other's presence. Even though he'd started the evening feeling more anxious than he felt he'd ever been, by now, Tighnari was completely comfortable and content to share his space with you. He's glad you feel safe in his company, too.

Waiting, in case you need any help with the papers, Tighnari gazes upon your candle-lit face. Your hair falls around you messily from the night of work, your mindless movements and adjustments making you look ruffled in the best possible way. The shadows of the room lay across your face, contrasting with the low glow of the candle light. It makes you look ethereal in his eyes, as if you would disappear should he close his eyes for too long... or maybe that's just the exhaustion from the day leaving its impression on his eyes. Either way, it left you looking nothing less than gorgeous in that very moment.

Off to the side, the candle on the counter slowly extinguishes itself, though neither you nor him take any notice. The candle left on the table casts enough light for you to still see your paper. Tighnari, so mesmerised by your peaceful countenance, takes no notice because of the sudden lack of warmth colouring your cheek, but instead because of how the waning in competition between the two flames allowed the one that won to reflect brighter in your eyes.

The spark glints and glitters in the shadows around your eyes, like a field of fireflies against the backdrop of the midnight sky. Tighnari leans forward in his seat, the play of the light inviting him to get a closer look. The rustling of his clothing against his seat disrupts the stream of your focus, and you look up to see what he's doing.

Finally looking into your eyes, having your focus entirely on him...

He has to tell you.

...

(Not the actual smut yet but there's a little bit here. Idk... be warned)

Tighnari's back meets the table, his hands coming behind himself to steady his balance. Your body is slotted against his own, keeping him tight to the wooden surface with no option to move away. His tongue eagerly meets yours, lips opening wider upon your prompting. With his eyes closed, it's so much easier for him to take in everything about you; to just feel the effects you have on him.

His sensitive ears pick up on every noise in the room around you. Your breaths, mixing in the short space between your intertwined lips, the slight creaking of the wood beneath his body weight... it all sends a shiver down his back, an itch being scratched by the tingling just within his ears, the odd sensation making his head fuzzy and clouding his senses further.

His heightened sense of smell relishes in the newfound closeness of your body, his careful and unsure hands coming to rest against your waist. His uncertainty is reassured when your own hands, smaller than his own, though surer in their actions, come to press his tighter to your body, his nails digging in at the display of your want for him. Like this, your scent swirls around him, giving him no choice but to get drunk of the essence of you that sticks to his clothes. Suddenly, his cheeks heat a deep shade of red – deeper than they'd already been just from the warmth of your body against his – knowing that the smell of you will cling even to the pages of paper that you'd held between your fingers just minutes before for days to come.

Lost in his thoughts, Tighnari separates from your kiss with a gasp, his eyes rolling back when your leg presses into the bulge between his thighs, already hard and twitching against you. A drop of spit slips from the corner of his mouth, glinting in the remaining candle light as his thighs clench around the one you pressed against him. Grinding insistently and slow, you draw low groans from his open mouth. You quickly take place with your head in the crook of his neck, nosing and kissing along the surface that becomes available to you when Tighnari stretches his head to the side, giving you complete access to his most vulnerable points. You take advantage of the opportunity presented before you, taking the skin between your teeth and nipping until he whines and presses himself further into your hold on his neck.

He wants the pain. Wants to be bitten, to be marked. He wants everyone to look at him and know that he's been claimed by you.

But you won't give it to him. Not yet.

While his tongue flicks over his bottom lip to collect the mess of your combined spit, he looks into your eyes, the difference between each other immediately apparent:

Tighnari, eyes wide and dark, pupils dilated while he tried to commit the way you're looking at him to memory.

You, leaning over him as you push him down against the table, lidded eyes boring into his own with a passion that would make him fold to your every command.

You're leaning forward then, intending to continue exploring and taking the moment further, when–

The last candle flickers out, and darkness falls upon the room – encasing you both within.

It feels as though someone had walked in on the both of you, rudely unannounced and uncaring of the moment they'd ruined. You both stood stock still, completely frozen as you took in the sudden contrast (as little as it was, considering it was only one candle). It brings the both of you back to the present, clearing the haze that had befallen your minds as you take in the compromising position you'd gotten yourselves into. Panting and flushed, rumpled clothing and tangled limbs, crumpled paper and ink knocked over; how had your study session, professional and calm, turned to this?

Hesitantly, being careful not to bump into anything, you take a step back. You look away, despite the fact that it would take another few minutes for your eyes to adjust enough to see the other, and clear your throat, clearly feeling awkward.

Tighnari straightens himself out too, no longer leaning on the desk as he allows himself to wait for your next move. His ears point forward, zeroing-in on your spiking heart rate.

"...Well then... I suppose I'd best get going. Long day of work ahead tomorrow, right?" You're cut off before you can continue, a yawn pushing through your lips before you can stifle it. Despite his disappointment, Tighnari can't help but look at you endearingly. "Or today, I guess?"

"...That seems more like it, yes."

You let out what seems to be a content sigh, turning to head towards the door, still in complete darkness. Tighnari moves with you, going to your side to prevent you from walking into anything. He even opens the door for you and allows you to pass through.

"Thank you for tonight, mentor Tighnari~ I really learned a lot!" Just from the tone of your voice, he can tell that you're purposefully trying to make him embarrassed. After all, you must've noticed his discomfort every time you called him that through the past year, and you'd definitely put the pieces together after his confession. "I'll meet you here again tomorrow night."

And then, the door shuts behind her before he can even start to think of a response. He stands in the darkness of his own doorway for a few long minutes, going over the events of the night. Eventually, he lights another candle, deciding to leave the mess on the table for tomorrow... or later today, he guesses.

The enticing scent of you dances on the air in his room, smothering him and pulling him further into his growing need for you.

That night, Tighnari goes to bed later than usual; his hand fisted tight around the base of his swollen cock, and the other pressing painfully into the mark you'd left on his neck, already bruised and aching. His mind retraces the silhouette that you left imprinted in the shadows of his room, playing the scene over and over again behind his dilated eyes, wondering what would have happened if your time together hadn't been cut short.

At least, now, he can rest easy, knowing that his time truly being yours was soon to begin.

...

That day, work just seemed to drag on and on and on...

The job that usually captivated Tighnari's attention only kept him from you for longer. The co-workers and lower-ranking rangers, whose presence he didn't mind so much as others, even they couldn't stop him from wanting to get away from it all. Tighnari grinded his teeth, looking out at the sky, just waiting for the sun to hurry up and make way for the moon to rise.

It didn't help that every time he'd see you, you'd shoot him a teasing wink accompanied by a sly smirk, only to leave without a word... At this rate, with how you were both acting around each other, it wouldn't be long until gossip starts to spread through the camp.

That's why, when Tighnari finally gets you into his room later that night, he couldn't possibly be more relieved, shutting out the rest of the world behind that door and instantly forgetting about everything but you.

No words are exchanged as you direct him over to his own bed with just a look, following close behind and pushing him to sit down upon arrival. Tighnari faces you, then, feeling the urge to shrink in on himself when he sees you towering over him, the light from freshly-lit candles flashing in his peripheral like the stars that he knows are just outside. Only, this time, the candles will last much longer than usual, and even if they do go out, there's no way either of you will be stopping. Not tonight – and probably not any other night after this.

From behind your back, you reveal a small bowl cupped perfectly in the palm of your hand, part of the mortar and pestle kit he'd gifted you early on into your partnership. Inside lays a fine paste, brown in colour, with that distinct scent that always reminds him of your first fateful encounter:

Cocoa.

Tighnari gulps. His tail gives away his excitement, thumping erratically against the bed behind him, and you have to stifle a laugh at the display, as well as the embarrassed smile that tugs at his lips.

"And you..." His head tilts inquisitively as he once again inhales the sweet scent, "You're sure you know what this is? You're absolutely certain you remember?"

You show a mischievous smirk. "Cordyceps militaris."

Damn... using his own words against him... that's just plain cruel! Though that is a large part of what drew him towards you... But Cordyceps are a natural stamina enhancer! Why would you need to use them this late at night? You'd already made it very obvious that you wouldn't be studying tonight. And he's a fox! He has plenty of energy to do... that... without the added aid of an energy booster–

Ohhh...

Tighnari's eyes darken upon realising your plan.

They're also a natural aphrodisiac...

You sidle closer, moving to straddle him upon the bed, your thighs on either side of his own. Tighnari shuffles further onto the bed to make space for you, silently welcoming your presence. Distantly, he notices you putting the mortar bowl off to his side, but he's much more interested in whatever you're reaching into the pouch you set beside it for.

He doesn't have to wait long, your hand displaying an orange mushroom, long and thin, before you take it between your fingers and cup his cheeks with both hands. Your thumb slides against his bottom lip, and Tighnari automatically lets his mouth fall open without a second thought. You share eye contact, dilated pupils showing the love and respect you have for each other, among other things, while you slowly push the small piece of raw mushroom onto his waiting tongue.

He bites down instantly. It's un-needed, really. He'd feel the effects of the Cordyceps after ingestion, regardless of how it was done; but he wanted the full experience of being with you. He wanted to know everything that you had in store for him.

That doesn't mean he enjoys the burst of salt that assaults his taste buds, or the nutty after taste, but he knows that what will come after is worth it.

He must've made a disgusted face, the twinkle in your eyes and amused expression showing that you'd expected his reaction. "How is it? As good as you'd imagined?" You ask, a laugh on the cusp of your lips.

He swallows down, the saltiness drying up his mouth and making his salivary glands overcompensate. "Bitter."

You move on, pulling him into a kiss as your hands tugged at his clothes, slowly removing them and letting them fall haphazardly onto the floor. You pull away briefly to breathe out, "Effects should start in about 10 minutes," before you take his tongue into your mouth once more, hands running over his skin as more of his body is revealed to you. Suddenly, you quickly move away, reaching for the mortar. "Think you can wait that long?"

Tighnari huffs, looking annoyed that you keep depriving him of your kiss to speak more – even if he did previously encourage your teasing. "Seems to me that you're the one that has to worry about waiting. I wonder how long you've been planning this?" You ignore him, removing the last layers of his clothing until his cock, already half hard, is revealed to your hungry gaze. You take him into your hand, stroking him as he hardens further under your touch. "Look at you, you can't even keep your hands off me~" The Cordyceps must've been starting to work, beads of sweat beginning to form on his flushed skin proving that he was not as unaffected as he showed.

At this, you look up, an unimpressed expression on your face. "When this kicks in you'll be desperate for my touch. You'll be begging and writhing in the sheets of your own bed, all with the risk of me leaving you alone to try and deal with it yourself."

That manages to shut him up, his eyes widening with the threat in your tone. The expectant silence urges you to move, scooping a dollop of the brown Cordyceps paste from the bowl and lathering it over your palms.

Tighnari's breath hitches when you take his dick in your hand again, the coating feeling odd against the sensitive skin. Already being room temperature, the mixture warms quickly between your fingers, soon becoming pleasurable and aiding the slide of your hand. Meanwhile, your other hand spreads the paste across his inner thighs, working it into the skin.

Soon, Tighnari is showing more and more symptoms brought on by the mushroom, his eyes clouding and breaths coming shorter and more laboured. His eyes clench shut and he flinches when you nip the soft plush of his thighs, the pain blurring into bliss by the time the shocks make it to his brain. He's too overcome to make much noise, only small hums breaking through the silence, except for the slick noises coming from below.

He's starting to feel unusually hot where the mixture touches him, the sensation gradually growing as you continue your ministrations, but he doesn't speak up, doesn't complain. Because, the longer he puts up with this... the better it feels. The warmth on his cock, on his thighs, and even the occasional drop that had splattered up to his navel on the downward 'slap' of your hand, it all multiplied the pleasure he was feeling. It kept building and building, overwhelming him the longer it lasted.

Every time Tighnari thought he was going to cum, thought that it couldn't possibly get any more intense, the constricting heat in his loins would double, his muscles getting impossibly tighter, until–

He came, suddenly and without warning, pushing into your hand. His cum spouted from the slit, dribbling over to meet the brown paste, leaving a sticky mix of brown and white to pool at the base of his cock, like paint dripping down a fresh canvas. The picture he paints is lewd to the very meaning of the word.

Having to focus all of his energy into collecting his ragged breaths, he holds onto you with an arm thrown over your shoulder, relying on you to keep him up. Of course, it wouldn't be a problem were he to fall, the welcoming and familiar pillows obviously being cushioned enough to break the landing. But it's so... cute, so endearing, to see Tighnari, the Head Forest Watcher, completely reliant on you to take care of him during the most vulnerable moment you've witnessed him in to date.

Broken from his reverie, Tighnari stirs in your hold, his eyes lighting excitedly at the rejuvenated energy he feels running through his veins. His cock, still messy and lewd from his orgasm, hasn't gone down, only growing harder as the Cordyceps that he'd eaten finally takes its full hold on his mind.

He thrusts up into your hand that still encases his cock, whimpering when you lift yourself up and line him up with your hole, already wet from the high of seeing what a needy heap you'd reduced him to. Looking down at the sight with lust-fueled awe, he's only pulled away when your hand grips his chin, making him look up at you. His tail starts wagging again when he sees the dangerous look in your eyes and the hint of your teeth when your lips pull back into a mocking sneer.

"You're not gonna stop cumming until I've milked you dry... we've gotta get that aphrodisiac out of your system, right, mentor?"

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Thank you for reading! 🩷

Hello! I'm hoping to try and write some more soon!

Please send in some requests/brainrots and check my rules! They're pinned on my blog.

Asks are always open, (with anon available) so you're welcome to brainrot with me about anything Genshin related.

If you have any questions, let me know! 🩷

Aw man, I wanted to be an anon for requesting this but oh well lmao

I really want a one-shot (with plot) of Sub!Thoma × F!MeanDom!Reader where the reader loves teasing him, making him squirm, overstimulating him and watching him cry. Just being an ass to him overall and he enjoys every second of it.

As for the plot; I imagine reader to be a member of the Yashiro commision. She is not a retainer like Thoma, mainly dealing with jobs outside of the estate (such as speaking to merchants, coming to agreements with them as a business woman and organizing/sponsoring events when Ayato orders her team to). She is also older.

The location of the main event would be Ayato's office. As for how they end up getting in that situation, I'll leave that to you. Thoma outright sobbing is an important point though. I want that retainer drowning in his tears/j

All jokes aside, thank you for taking requests, this thing has been plaguing my mind for a while and I just can't stop thinking about it. I hope you have a wonderful week. Have a nice day and dm me if you are confused about anything in my request!

A/N: This one was really fun! Btw, I’m about to enter Inazuma in-game, so I actually don’t know anything about these characters apart from their voice lines, a little research, and fics I’ve read.

Want to skip the lead up? Look for the NSFW sign that marks the smut!

Apologies due

Character: Sub!Thoma // Reader: Dom!Fem

Genre: Smut // CW: Overstim, dacryphilia, mommy kink, puppy play, thigh riding, degradation, impact play, slight hair pulling, jealousy/hate sex (without sex), dubcon?

Plot: Yes // Word count: 4.1k

This past week had been far too busy. With the long-awaited Summer Festival just around the corner, you'd been sent here, there and everywhere to collect everything that was needed, and even things that probably weren't.

You'd often be given the order from Kamisato Ayato, your boss in the Yashiro Commission, to attend business meetings in his stead, and secure official information or deals with the companies that he decided to show a particular interest in. Yesterday, you'd been sent word that you were to collect five large boxes of fireworks from Naganohara Fireworks; a company ran by none other than Yoimiya. While she'd usually like to set them off herself, she compromised during the Summer Festival to allow the Yashiro Commission to set them up in a good vantage point, where everyone in Inazuma will see their vibrant sparks in the skies no matter where they may stand on the land. Of course, she'd stay close at hand in case something went wrong, but with all the tests that they did at the company, followed by the checks that you would perform before taking the boxes, that was hardly a possibility.

Most of the hard work had already been done. Or so you'd thought.

Six hours ago, you'd met up with Yoimiya, discussed the products you'd be taking and how much they'd cost, as well as how she'd be paid, and been well on your merry way within the hour, all with a couple of boxes in tow. Very heavy ones, to be exact, which is why you'd also brought some other Commission members to bear the brunt of the work and carry them to the cart you'd brought. As a worker employed by the Kamisato Clan, you were quite precise in your planning.

Taking them into storage, you soon reread the letter you'd received the day before from the head of the Clan, memorising the meet-up point where you'd be handing them over to none other than Thoma, the Chief Retainer.

Now, you'd never say this in public, for fear of tarnishing your reputation in the streets, or bringing question to your place in the Commission. Because Archons forbid you be jealous of Thoma.

Thoma, who was adored by everyone in Inazuma.

Thoma who was preferred by the master of the Clan, who got to see him more than once a month when he'd let go of his cold business mode.

Thoma, who, despite being your junior in both years and experience, acted as though he could do no wrong, as though he was better than you, more important...

Thoma, who left you standing in the warehouse where you'd been supposed to meet for the entire afternoon, wondering when he'd finally show up; only to realise when it started getting dark, that he likely wouldn't come at all.

Dejected and frustrated, you retired to your lodgings in the warehouse. You'd been given a room there, considering you were the key point for the warehouse to work at all, but seldom stayed there, preferring your own bed in your own home.

Once settled and comfortably in bed, you begin trying to sleep. But you find that you can't, your thoughts running wild on why Thoma didn't show up.

Had he gotten hurt? Surely not. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself.

"Psh..." you scoff, shaking the thought from your head. Why should you care about him, anyway? You'd undoubtedly get in trouble for delivering the order late, as usual.

The only logical answer you could come up with was that Thoma had probably forgotten that he was supposed to meet up with you. Again.

Just another thing that you held against him. He always forgot when he had to meet up with you, and you'd always get the blame the next day. Because of course sweet, precious Thoma couldn't make a mistake. Of course Thoma, Ayato's favourite housekeeper, couldn't ever be in the wrong. It just had to be Y/N.

Even though, when this did happen, Thoma would always try to take the blame, as he should in your eyes and his, it rarely accumulated to anything in your favour. The higher ups always found a way to pin the blame on you.

Sighing in defeat, you dispel the thought from your mind, trying not to fall into the dark spiral of jealousy and contempt that you held for the housekeeper despite his sunny disposition. You'd deal with it in the morning.

...

The next morning, a letter came, stamped "URGENT" in big red letters on the front, right under your name.

Of course. Just as you'd expected.

Tearing open the envelope, you retrieve the folded paper from inside and begin reading its contents.

"Miss Y/N,

It has come to my attention that, going against your previous orders, the 5 boxes of fireworks that you have been assigned to gather from Naganohara Fireworks have not been delivered to the estate as required.

With the Summer Festival not even two whole weeks away, we in the Yashiro Commission really must all do our part to bring preparations to a close with as much time remaining as possible. Because of your inability to follow instructions, that plan is now at risk.

I ask that you come to the estate before noon, with the firework boxes, and attend a meeting with me in my office.

Signed, Kamisato Ayato."

Putting the paper down on your bed, you raise a hand to cover your eyes with a deep sigh. "Today is really not the day for this..." you mumble.

So much for the weekend being a holiday... you don't even get your Saturday off.

...

Once again, your morning would prove to be quite hectic, to say the least.

After taking a quick nap to come to terms with the fact that you'd been called to the estate for yet another misdemeanour to add onto the list of your past wrongdoings, you actually begin getting ready.

Your "mistakes", as Ayato often referred to them as, were starting to pile up quite high. Really, you were starting to wonder how you hadn't been fired yet, regardless of how not many of them had even been your fault. It didn't say so on your record.

After getting ready and making yourself presentable, you prepare yourself to face what will probably be the worst day of your month so far; being reprimanded by Kamisato Ayato (once again) and having to apologise to Thoma. Even though it wasn't your fault.

Steeling yourself to face the day, you head out of the warehouse, boxes still on the cart behind you, and begin your journey to the Kamisato estate. At least it's not far...

But that just makes it worse that Thoma hadn't showed up.

...

Walking through the corridors of the estate, after being granted permission to enter by a preoccupied member of staff, you make your way straight to Ayato's office. Having already been well acquainted with the building after attending multiple meetings in his office, it was a good thing you knew where you were going. The hurried and near-frantic movements of the staff of the house quickly conveyed that they wouldn't be of any help. Had they even noticed your arrival?

You knock on the closed door with a resounding thud, an answering, "Come in." sounding from the other side. So, you do.

Pushing the door open, you instantly meet eyes with your boss, Kamisato Ayato. Safe to say, he didn't look far too happy with you.

"You asked of me, Sir?" You questioned, though it wasn't a question at all. You knew why you'd been called. After all, it said as much in the letter.

You almost take a step forward into the room, but catch yourself just before you start moving, deciding that it'd be more respectful (and therefore easier to get out of trouble) if you pretended to be nervous.

He seems pleased. "Indeed. Please take a seat." He gestures vaguely at the chair on the opposite side of his desk, looking back to the paperwork in front of him.

You do as he has told, and wait for him to start talking, but it never arrives.

After almost two whole minutes full of incredibly awkward silence and looking aimlessly around the room for something to take the edge off, you eventually give in.

"I- uhm..." Your voice quietens after the first syllable, daunted by how loud it sounds in the silence, "I left the boxes outside, Sir. I believe some of your house staff took them into a storage room for further inspection."

He still hadn't looked at you or shown any interest, leading you to begin fumbling with your hands, becoming more anxious the longer he ignored you.

"I checked them myself last night, they're all in good condition and Yoimiya accepted the payme-"

"-That's enough." He puts his pen down with all the grace that he usually possesses, but something about the action betrays his annoyance.

"I don't wish to talk business right now, Y/N. You have caused a great deal of distress in the estate through all of today and yesterday. Please tell me, what is your excuse this time?"

Your mouth drops open slightly in surprise. He made it sound as though you did this on purpose!

"B-but Sir, I didn't do anything!"

"And therein lies the problem, Miss Y/N. You didn't do anything." Now, his eyes refuse to leave yours, and you almost wish time would go back to a few minutes beforehand, to when he hadn't been looking at you at all.

He was trying to intimidate you, you realised, trying to make you admit defeat and take the blame. And you know what?

It was almost working.

"I did as I was told. I waited until late last night, but Thoma didn't show." At this point, your voice had taken on an accusatory undertone.

You hadn't done anything wrong! Not this time, not the last, and not any of the times before that. You were getting tired of the blame always being put on your shoulders. It was Thoma's fault. Not yours.

"... You're blaming Thoma? After all the work he does in the estate, and all the help he has been when preparing and organising these festivals, you dare to shove the fault onto him?"

He stares directly at you, his gaze barely any different than usual, but there's a barely restrained fire melting that icy cold gaze. "The Summer Festival is soon, Miss Y/N, very soon. Each and every moment of the lead up is of great impertinence. I'd have thought you would at least have taken your responsibility into account for just this once."

You're left speechless, unable to comprehend just how easily Ayato had completely swept your concern under the metaphorical rug.

At your lack of response, he leans forward on the desk, hands clasping together and fingers intertwining.

"Nothing to say for yourself?"

Another few more seconds of silence, awkward once again. The still room was deafening.

"... Well then. I have a very important meeting soon, much more important than this one." He stands up from his chair, paying no mind to you as you sit there in a confused daze. As he starts walking towards the door, you push your chair out to follow him, but before you can even lift yourself up, he halts you.

"Ah, ah, ah. Where do you think you're going? Have you been excused?"

"W-well no, but-"

"Then you shall stay put." He turns to you with a taunting smile lifting his features, the anger in his voice finally evening out, " besides, I do believe you have an apology to make to Thoma, hmm?"

"An apology?! I'm not-"

"Oh hush. I'll send him in soon, so be patient until then, will you? I'm sure you can at least do that much."

Before you can even argue further, he is out the door, the doorframe clattering as it swings shut behind his retreating form.

"Ughh..." you groan and slump back into the chair.

Looks like you have at least twenty minutes to re-evaluate your life choices.

...

'Creak'

The shutting of the door jolted you awake in an instant. Confused and surprised that you'd fallen asleep, you look behind you to see Thoma stood still in the doorway, his hand still connected to the handle.

"Sorry..." a hand comes up in half a wave and half a placating manner, and the other goes to rub the back of his neck awkwardly.

Being woken up doesn't particularly leave you in too good of a mood, especially not when this is who you have to deal with.

You glare at him and respond with a gruff hum, turning back around to look straight ahead of you, when an idea comes to mind.

"I... I really am sorry about yesterday. Hahah..." His soft voice gives away his turmoil, but when this matter occurs constantly, should you really have to forgive him every time? Your foot begins tapping against the floor as you bite your lip, considering your options while he continues to talk behind you.

"There's just so much going on, what with the Festival only being a couple of weeks away from now. I had too much work piled up and I couldn't send anyone else because they were all-" His words are interrupted as you stand up from the chair, mind set, and walk around to the other side of the desk.

"H-hey, Y/N, what are you doing? They're Lord Ayato's personal documents, you can't read those!"

Ignoring him, you take your place in the chair and push away from the desk slightly, facing directly at Thoma's worried face as if daring him to stop you.

"I'm growing tired of these games, Thoma. Don't you think you deserve a punishment for causing me so many problems and making me take the blame for your mistakes?"

"There is no game! I promise I don't mean to, Y/N, I just-"

"-Just what, Thoma? Can't learn how to prioritise your own work? Can't ask someone else for help? Can't say fucking 'no' to anyone?!" Your voice raises to a near shout, making him flinch and take a step back. But this only makes you angrier.

Taking a deep breath, you take control of your emotions before they get out of hand. Instead of standing up and just slapping him right across the face like you so want to do right now, you cross your legs and pat your hand against the one that's left raised.

"Sit down, Thoma. You're going to make it up to me. Right now."

"I-" He gives up on complaining with just a raise of your eyebrow. He looks back at the door for a split second, but his curiosity ultimately wins over, and he turns back to you.

The tension between the two of you had been steadily rising as of late. There'd always been a certain attraction, but with the difference in your job roles, there was little time to see each other outside of work. And the recent arguments hadn't done much good, either.

Without even so much as a few seconds to think, his leg swings over yours as he lowers himself down onto your lap, though he still looks unsure, even with his cheeks heating. "I don't think... we should be doing this here... I mean- we definitely shouldn't! Lord Ayato would-"

You place a hand over his mouth, silencing him as his eyes go wide.

"He isn't here right now, is he? Just pay attention to me." Your deft hand slides down, releasing his lips to take hold of his throat with a threatening squeeze, to which he gulps nervously as his eyes flicker down to your wrist, fighting the urge to pull your hand away. "Besides..." He eyes hesitantly lift up to meet your dark gaze. "This is a meeting room, no? We're simply coming to an agreement of our own."

He whimpers at that, his lips falling open when your other hand that was hidden from him took a tight grip on his hip. Pushing him down onto your lap, his half-hard bulge drags against your thigh.

"Ohh-... Y/N, what should I-?"

"You're going to get yourself off on my thigh like a good little puppy."

With a tilt of his head, he lets out a questioning hum, "Puppy?" Without another prompt, he starts doing as you said, his hips sliding over your thigh over and over again.

"Archons, you really are like a dog." You reach out and take hold of the chain around his neck, pulling it taut against his skin until it digs in, providing a pleasant sting. His eyebrows crease, fighting the urge to talk back. "Even came with these dog tags. It's like you're begging to be treated like a filthy mutt."

With your hold on the metal, you pull him forward into a forceful kiss, your teeth knocking together as he lets out a moan at the sting of the sharp edges pricking his soft lips.

He barely responds to your kiss, focusing more on keeping his hips moving as he chases the pleasure. Just when he starts to reciprocate, his tongue gliding against and following your own as it retreats back into your mouth, he is pulled back by your harsh grip on the hair at the base of his neck.

He yelps as he's torn away from you, his body stiffening as he tries to reach back and lessen the burden of your fingers. You release him so that he has no choice but to drop back down into your lap. Hard.

"Aaghn-! Y/N~"

A swift slap echoes through the room, his face snapping to the side as a dark red blooms across his cheek.

Before he even gets a chance to react, the hand that had just hit him pulls him to face you again, smoothing over the burning mark as if to comfort what you had just caused.

"When I own you like this, I'm your mommy. Got it? I don't want to hear my name coming out of your disgusting mouth."

His bottom lip wobbles as crystalline tears gather in his eyes, but he doesn't quite let them drop. He sniffles, voice crackling when he responds, "Y-Yes, mommy..."

Rather than giving him a reward, you push him further.

Hand still cradling his burning cheek, your nails dig into the tender flesh, resurfacing the pain which had only just numbed. Thoma has no other choice than to take it, his hands tightly grasping his own knees, allowing you access to do anything you want with his pliant body. Though, his voice betrays his loyalty, a small cry being dislodged from his throat.

"Continue."

He doesn't wait for even a second, his hips bucking against your thigh faster than before as he evens out the pain you're giving him with the pleasure.

Lessening the pressure on his cheek, you lean against the back of the chair, taking in the scene he makes in front of you.

Clothes rumpled and sticking to the sweat coating his body, dick shamefully hard, the outline clear to see pressing against the fabric of his pants. Hair tousled from your earlier grip, eyes half closed and glinting in the light of the room with the hint of unshed tears. He truly was a sight to see.

And as much as you hate to admit it, you'd certainly like to see him like this more often.

Maybe, if this is the reward you got for dealing with the unfair favouritism from the head of the Clan, it wouldn't be so hard to endure...

But just thinking that makes you angrier than before. You shouldn't have to settle.

"Awww~ look at you, humping your owner's thigh like a desperate, little puppy... are you really that needy that you don't care about ruining mommy's clothes?"

Before you can continue, he lets out an unfiltered moan, the loud noise startling the both of you. His hips jerk sporadically before slowing to a stop, his breaths coming out in uneven pants.

"...Hah... Did you really just cum from that, you dirty mutt?"

And when you look at the tent between his legs, a dark patch of his cum seeps into his pants, the wetness unmistakable in the clear lighting of the room.

His sniffles return louder this time, and when you look back up at his face, you see exactly what you'd been hoping for:

Tears, sliding down his flushed cheeks with no end in sight. They just wouldn't stop.

"I-I'm sorry, mommy... I couldn't h-hold it back..." He can barely even speak, voice cutting off as he fights through the tightening of his throat to push out the words he knows you want to hear.

Not that they'd do him any good, anyway.

You tightly grip his softening dick through his pants, his cum soaking through to your skin, coating your palm with a sticky sheen.

He tenses up and hisses in pain through clenched teeth, his face scrunching up as he loses control of his reactions.

"You're so greedy. Didn't even ask for permission, you always just take what you want, don't you, dog?"

"No! I'm sorry, m-mommy, so sorry, please!"

A tear drips down his throat, and you watch as it smudges and soaks into the collar of his jacket.

"Shut up."

Digging your fingers into his hips, you force him to continue moving on your lap, his clothed cock grinding against your leg and leaving behind a line of slick on your own clothing.

"Ah, wait- wait! I just came~ Please not yet, mommy, not yet!"

He scrambles to dislodge your hold, his legs kicking out a bit to your side as his hands come down to grip your shoulders for stability. He's shaking from overstimulation as you push him down onto your thigh, tensing your leg intermittently to provide more stimulation than he can handle.

In what he assumes to be mercy, you remove your hands from him, leaving him to slow his movements on his own after he keeps moving for a few seconds before realising that you weren't holding onto him anymore.

When he stops completely, a hard smack to his thigh makes him jolt forward with a startled sob, his tongue feeling heavy and vision blurry as he cries out continuously.

"Keep going. I didn't tell you to stop."

"Can't, I can't! It's too much, please don't make me, it's too good~!"

And yet, despite his begging and whining, his thrusting starts up again without you doing a thing. The continuous grinding against your leg was starting to ache, the rough material of Thoma's pants beginning to take their toll on your skin. But the sight of him, knowing that you'd finally one-upped him, that you'd reduced him to this mess... Well. That made it all worth it.

It seems that the restriction of his clothing was beginning to bother him, too.

He starts begging to take off his pants when the texture gets too rough on his sensitive dick. The constant dragging and the damp feeling of his ruined underwear rubbing on the tip of his leaking cock providing too much painful stimulation.

Of course, you don't let him, wanting to see him shift and tremble as his overwhelmed cock twitches with each shove back and forth.

The shocks of his first orgasm hadn't been given a chance to wear off, pushing him further and further towards his next before he could even think to warn you- before he could even try to hold it back.

And, with another loud moan that tapers off into overwhelmed hums and panting breaths, he cums harder than ever before.

This time, it takes longer for him to recover, coming to only a couple minutes later when the uncomfortable feeling of his tears drying and leaving tracks on his face tempt him to refocus. He's grateful for the short break you'd given him after cumming again so quickly, gasping puffs of air as he mumbled, "Thank you, mommy, thank you..." over and over again.

Though the reprieve was short lived.

"Oh, puppy, you didn't think we were done, did you? You've always been so selfish towards me, making me take all the blame..."

You push him to start moving again, his own begging and crying going unheard in his own ears. Tears once again fall from his barely-open eyes and follow the paths the previous ones had made.

"Why don't you take some more?"

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Comforting touches

Character: Sub!Scaramouche // Reader: Dom!Afab, no pronouns used

Genre: Smut // CW: Titjob, cum play, nipple play, dumbification(?) he just doesn't want to think about anything :(

Plot: No // Word count: 1.9k

Barely more than half an hour ago, you were sitting on the couch in your living room, waiting for your boyfriend to come home. Scaramouche had been increasingly anxious recently, but due to his standoffish nature, he couldn't even bring himself to open up to you about the problems he was facing. Always pushing you away, you'd come to expect the degradation that came with being caring towards him, him seeing it as a slight towards his capabilities.

Safe to say, when he came through the door, stumbling into your arms as soon as you stood up to welcome him home, you knew something wasn't right.

With his face pressed into your neck, you were content to simply hold him close to you for the time being, just breathing together to try and calm him down and assess the situation. But when a wetness soaked into your skin, you slowly pulled away to face him, your gentle hands on his shoulder. (You'll never tell him that it was mainly to catch him if he fell, what with his unsteady knees and shaking shoulders, not unless you wanted to get your head bit off).

Before you could even get out a word of confusion or consolation, Scaramouche took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes before another tear could slip. Already, without a word being spoken in the past three minutes, you knew that he was overwhelmed.

This wasn't the first time that this had happened, and, as guilty as it made you feel, you hoped that it wouldn't be the last. Moments like this were the only times he would let himself be completely vulnerable around you, to completely surrender the control that he clinged to so despairingly. Instead of bottling all of his frustrations up, you were glad to have found an outlet in which he could relax and reset himself, without taking it out on the public by way of his... less than amiable personality.

...

That led you to this: kneeling on the floor between Scaramouche's parted legs, as he looked off to the side, his arm covering his eyes from your view in embarrassment.

It was an action that he gravitated towards each time this would happen, as if you didn't already know exactly what he looked like when he got like this; as if he wasn't eagerly awaiting what he knew would be coming. If only he could be a bit more patient.

"Tch..."

"... Is something wrong?" A responding sigh, and your hands slowly glide over the flesh of his thighs, an encouraging squeeze making its way through your fingertips.

When he shows no sign that he's going to say anything, you take hold of the bottom of your shirt and bring it up and over your head, leaving your top half covered only by a bra. He turns his gaze to look at you out of the corner of his eye, a fierce blush taking over his face, accompanied by a half-restrained pout.

Sensing his inner hesitation, you reach out and carefully rest your hand over one of his, which he keeps plastered to the couch on either side of his body. At your warm touch, he eventually pulls himself together enough to look back at you, his eyes immediately darting to your cleavage, before hurriedly looking back into your eyes.

With a silent praise, your lips pull upwards in a calm smile. Your hands slowly reach behind you to un-clasp the bra, letting it slide down your arms and drop from your body, bearing your front to the cool air of the room, as well as Scaramouche's hungry gaze. Your nipples harden under his insistent eyes, and his fingers twitch under your own, longing to take them into his hands and play with them until the sensitivity has you moaning out for him. But other than the twitch, he makes no move to act out on it, the situation familiar enough that he knows what you want from him.

"Are you ready? This is what you need from me, right?" You shuffle forward until your midriff is pressed against the cushion of the couch of which he is sitting on, your other hand riding higher until it comes into contact with the waistband of his shorts.

With an audible gulp and a clear of his throat, he rasps out, "Yes. I just... I need this right now."

A clench of your hand around his.

"What's the magic word~?"

Reluctantly, he tightens his hand around yours in answer, "...Please..."

With him, that's as good as you're likely to get, so you don't push him any further. Not when he's like this; desperate to take his mind off of everything around him and just indulge in the comfort of you.

Quickly, not wanting to keep him waiting any longer, your hand undoes the ties around his shorts, pulling them away until his half-hard cock comes free from the coverings. Taking him into your hand, you slowly stroke him to his full length, his dick twitching in anticipation as he tries to control his reactions. All the while, your other hand rubs relaxing circles onto the back of his palm, coaxing him into relaxing until he gradually gives in, letting out short hums and groans when his pleasure spikes.

Pleased with how he's reacting, you let your hand fall away from him, his now-full length drops down to rest against his still-clothed stomach, his gooey precum smearing into the fabric.

He lets out an impatient grumble, but it isn't long before he's cut off completely.

Leaning forward, your shoulders push his legs to spread even further apart to make room for you. Biting your lip to rein in your excitement, you take one of your breasts in each hand, pulling them apart to guide his cock into the space between.

Immediately he lets out a loud keen, curling forward to hold onto your shoulders with a tight grip, trying to ground himself as he becomes accustomed to the pleasure once again. When he looks down, his mouth drops open to let out a moan at the obscene sight below him:

His cock throbs between the tight heat of your plush breasts, his oozing precum aiding the glide and glistening erotically in the low light of the room. Each short bounce you make as you drag your breasts along his length pulls his cock to be encased in the hot flesh of your chest, his sensitive cockhead disappearing and pressed tightly between your mounds to allow him to feel every slick slide. With each thrust, his tip pushes through, more slick drooling from his slit and pooling upon your chest, before dripping down to meet your perky nipples. The sensation is odd at first, the sticky fluid quickly cooling in the cold air and the slow drag of it against your skin tickles, making you shiver. The slight vibration of the action causes him to thrust against your chest, a weak cry falling from his lips, chasing the sensation no matter how fleeting or overstimulating it is.

Steady moans break through Scaramouche's rough exterior. He always gives in so quickly when you do this for him. Maybe it's the fact that you can still look at him clearly, or talk to him when he's getting too carried away without stopping in your ministrations. Or maybe, it's the intimacy of the experience, being so close to you, buried in the welcoming heat of your chest and still able to see you, to feel your hands making contact with any part of his body you wish to feel.

Each rise and fall of your chest with your breath leaves him gasping, the added friction keeping him tense as he hurdles closer and closer to his peak. With all of your attention focused on his needy cock, there's no escape from the torturous sensations. All of his whines and choked out calls of your name amount to the final burst of pleasure that shoots through his entire body.

As his pulsing cock begins spurting his thick cum, you lean back, taking his length back into your hand once more and jerking him off. Squeezing as much of the white substance out of him as possible, it lands on the apex of your chest in a messy splatter, more joining the mess until he finally starts coming down, overstimulation slowly setting in.

His nails dig painfully into your shoulders when you don't stop, but you push through, milking him of all he has to give, until he is completely satisfied and slouching back onto the couch. And then, you let him go, content to watch him gasp for air as he regains his senses for the next minute or two.

Scooping his cum onto your fingers, you trail it across your chest in slow, meticulous movements, making sure to draw his attention to your nipples as you massage them, finally getting the attention you've been missing out on. The hard buds are soon coated in Scaramouche's white, viscous cum, the thickness sticking to your skin and the wetness making you all the more reactive to the touch from your fingers. He takes hold of your arm, and before he can apply much pressure, you're already rising, sitting down on the couch beside him and guiding him to sit at your side, asking:

"Are you still good to–"

"–Yes. Keep going... please..."

"...Okay. You can tell me all about it later. If you want."

But he doesn't answer.

Licking the salty fluid off of your fingertips, you slide a hand into his hair and pull him into a kiss, letting him taste the slight trace of himself on your tongue. He groans at the taste, pushing himself further into your body, one leg sprawled over your lap as he leans against your shoulder.

Pulling away, you guide his face to your chest, and he instantly starts licking up the remaining tracks of his own spend. Laying little nips and bites on your skin, he makes his way down to one of your buds, taking it into his mouth and sucking attentively, lapping over it with his tongue until it is completely clean of his essence. He's sloppy with his technique, not caring much for how he looks or sounds, with wet slurps causing spit to trickle down his chin from the corners of his lips.

Letting out low moans, you wipe his lips clean from the drool with your thumb.

He soon moves his attentions to your other neglected bud, suckling and latching onto it as if he'll never get the chance again. When he nips or pulls too hard – and sometimes he does, after all, he can get quite carried away when he's like this – all you have to do is lay a light tap against the back of his neck and he'll know to be more careful, laving his tongue over the mark to soothe the pain as if kissing it in apology.

While you are obviously enjoying this, this experience is more so for Scaramouche than it is for you.

The mindlessness of his actions allows him to drop into a hazy state, completely hidden from any of his life's worries. If you're needed to help him reach this mindset, you'll gladly help him each and every time, as well as take care of him until he eases out of it. Even if it means that he'll be too embarrassed to face you for the next few days.

Because despite how harsh he is at times, he can never get enough of you taking care of him.

Want to send a request/brainrot with me? Check my rules!

Thank you for reading! 🩷

RULES:

Please be patient and gentle with me, I may take a while to deliver!

I may not always be taking requests, as I quickly get carried away/overwhelmed.

This means that while the ask box will always be open, this is for you to share your thoughts/brainrots, not to request! To make it easy for you, here are the request statuses:

JUST SMUT: CLOSED

HEADCANONS OR SCENARIOS (ANY GENRE): CLOSED

JUST SMUT is as it sounds, may not be very long.

HEADCANONS OR SCENARIOS may vary in length and/or detail.

RULES FOR REQUESTS/ASKS:

Off-limits:

Food play // coprophilia (scat) // knismolagnia (tickling) // age regression.

I don't write Abyss Traveler or reader.

Can be sent as a brainrot but not a request:

Non-con // CNC // temperature/wax play // more than 3 participants (foursome+) // teacher/student // modern/school AUs

I don't write trans reader or characters but if you're comfortable, I could try to expand the overall idea.

(These are because I enjoy them in fics, but wouldn't feel confident writing them myself)

Depends on the context:

Incest/stepcest // threesome.

(These are fine as a brainrot)

Anonymous asks are welcome! But if you're sending a request (especially smut), it'd be easier to know what your blog is so I can message you if I have a question about your ask.

REQUEST RULES:

Specify what format you want! (just smut, headcanon or scenario)

Include reader's physical gender (F, M or Gn), as well as their role during the smut (top/bottom and sub/dom.) I always keeps your preference in mind, but might naturally keep it Gn.

If you want top!gn reader, let me know what you want the smut to include (in terms of actual penetration: real cock or a strap? Or just foreplay).

Let me know if there is anything you DON'T want to be included, especially for hard!dom reader or character (e.g. cock stepping, mommy/daddy, etc.)

2 characters is my limit for headcanons, 1 max for scenario. This may change. You are welcome to ask for more characters with the same prompt.

THIS LIST MAY HAVE RULES ADDED/CHANGED!