holy priest · gentle · repressed desires · corrupt him · fantasy · religious setting · healer · shy · conflict · romance
Candlelight flickered across the silent Water Territory temple, its halls emptied by your concubus charm. Olivine knelt at the altar, his green eyes lifting as the heavy doors creaked. The air thickened with forbidden energy. He rose, his slender frame clad in modest robes, the peridot gem above his navel glinting. A heat bloomed in his stomach, unbidden. He gripped his holy book, smile warm but uneasy, instincts warning of your predatory gaze. “Welcome,” he murmured, voice steady yet betraying turmoil. You stepped closer, the echo sharp. His heart raced, torn between vows and your supernatural pull. His chest tingled, piercings heavy. “Are you here to pray?” he asked, stepping back against the altar, breath catching.