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anantaru · 3 months ago

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⚝ DAY 14 — HE'S POSSESSIVE & YANDERE

kinktober 2024. — masterlist | ao3

— including. — zhongli, dottore, capitano, pantalone

— warnings. — fem! reader, toxic behavior, tw yandere, mentions of baby trapping (dottore's part), rough syx, mentions of blood (pantalone's part), biting/marking, dirty talk, brat taming, jealousy

⚝ ZHONGLI

zhongli's grip on your waist tightens as though the weight of his soul hinged on the shape of your hips as he whispers your name like a sacred hymn, his lips tenderly grazing over the hollow of your throat— and morax cannot stop repeating himself, mine, you hear it? he mouths it against your skin so sensually, mine in this life, mine in the next, mine across every cycle of erosion.

his cock carves into you with a loving patience that amplifies the fire in his gaze, he wasn't one to fuck you rough and deep right away, not at all, because zhongli was far too old for haste, you know? instead, he buries himself slowly so you can feel it all, with a god's hunger for persistence.

you swear you can feel his every vein graze through your walls, his slow but consistent pumps rocking into you further and attempting to dissolve into your very body as his forehead rests against your own, sweat pearling where your bodies are fused, and his eyes— amber, ancient, stare straight through your soul.

"do you think i could forget this?" he groans above you, his voice aching from pleasure, though his thrusts were gradually becoming more brutal now, "do you think i could ever let you leave, now that i've felt you like this?"

your spine arches at his filthy choice of words and you can feel how soaked you were at this point, your slick dripping around his length in humiliating gushes with every new thrust, your cunt pulsing desperately as he moans out your name, archons, moans— as if your need were his own suffering.

zhongli goes all the way in, fucking every inch, every thick, pulsing vein through your cunt until it's all messily shoved inside you, forcing your walls to stretch around him like they were never meant to, like your body had no choice but to take it. fuck, yes it burns, of course, he's part dragon after all and it's too much yet at the same time, not enough.

you can feel his tip scratch against your most aching spots repeatedly, rubbing them apart and pushing up against the limits of what you could take as he made you twitch and clamp around him like you're choking on the intrusion as your nails drag across the large expanse of his toned back.

zhongli groans at the sharpness digging into his skin as his fingers squeeze your hips bruisingly, tight enough so it's not considered gentle anymore, not tender nor sweet, yet hungry, completely fucking gone.

"even stone," he gasps, no, he breaks, his voice torn from the pit of him, as if his divinity was talking through him, "even stone breaks with time, but not me, not for you, i will not erode, i will remain with you forever," your walls clench around him as he crumbles, forehead crashing to your shoulder with his breath hot and shaking against your wet skin, resembling your complete warmth being the altar and his body the offering.

⚝ DOTTORE

your body utterly rewires with dottore's hand's around your throat— not tightly, not choking, but claiming, like a collar held by his master, with his breath coming in through harsh, delighted pants against your ear as he forces your legs wider with one knee, sinking into you with merciless, almost scientific precision.

"oh, how you weep for it," he laughs, his voice alight with that hideous brilliance, the unholy thrill of unraveling something delicate and divine. dottore continues watches you sob beneath him with eyes as big as saucers, your overwhelmingly broken noises turning his face in awe like a laboratory specimen gone beautiful as he laughs, his expression bright with mania.

"such a reaction— such exquisite collapse," he groans before tenderly licking the tears off your cheek like he's tasting a drug synthesized just for him, so slow and lewd it made your cheeks burn as his tongue trails down to your tensed jaw and gulping throat, obviously where your pulse pounded like it's trying to escape.

"your body tells me the truth," your pulse flutters where his voice settles, rasping low like a warning, "it opens for me even as your mind screams or begs, perhaps? you begs so sweetly," as he thrusts into you again, your hips immediately betraying you and rising up to meet his blows with no mercy for your own good.

"you would never betray me, correct? say it," he echoes mockingly as his warm exhales bleed over your neck, "no, no, this is devotion, this is biology," as he cups your face like a holy relic, feigning any kind of love and fondness within his eyes as for a moment, it could truly be believed that you mattered to him.

if he could, dottore wants to stay in your body forever, not just for this moment, but as a permanent echo as every thrust was a question carved into your velvety insides—will you keep me? will you survive me? as your cunt answers without mercy, sucking him in and trapping him within a tight constriction, fluttering tight, shamefully eager to please your lover.

and to be frank, the friction was slowly about to become unbearable and you do not remember for how long the both of you were going for already as you're full past your capacity, your nerves screaming and shriveling at his dangerous, rigid thrusts that landed with slick, guttural slaps on slaps on slaps which sounds like sin itself, fuck— you feel so filthy with dottore on top of you, it's so wet, loud and nasty that your body was taking him with a noise that should humiliate you, yet it only made you crave him harder.

your back arches, hands clawing uselessly at the sheets yet he doesn't consider stopping anytime soon as he fucks you sharp and unforgiving, each drag of his cock slithering through your walls was calculated to make you scream out in pleasure— it's designed to be too much, every inch of him stretching you wide and cruelly slow as though he's measuring exactly how far he could push you before your body gave up on its stamina.

every step dottore took shook you to your core, yet when he suddenly presses a kiss to your temple, feeling as though he was deranged with fondness, your body shakes underneath his comforting cold, "there's no version of reality where you'll leave this bed without me staining your womb," words fall out of him as his voice drips with venom and delight, "i'll cut your name into my skin if it means you'll never forget mine."

⚝ CAPITANO

all you could hear was the sickeningly loud sound of your bodies connecting and becoming one with the mess between your thighs serving as a reminder of hours gone by as capitano breathes deeply into his chest— each inhale awakening a tremor through you and each exhale hovering hot against your mouth.

capitano doesn't say much to you aside from watching you intently, because you see? the harbinger doesn't have to, in fact, the silence coils around you like a chain, thick with intent, heavy with the gravity of his presence alone as words would only cheapen it— this unbearable, suffocating stillness where only his breath echoed something shallow on top of you.

his gaze pins you down without his weight even trying to, his eyes darker than sin and steadier than death when you realize— no voice could ever claim you the way his silence already did. capitano possesses you with absence, commands you without a sound and without a doubt, your body would always obey him, through chains and trembles, welcoming him open and spread.

his cock forces its way deeper now, each rock of hips impossibly thick as you bite down on his shoulder just to keep from moaning so loudly as you're shaking through the overstimulation he caused, completely wrecked, and yet he hasn't said a single word yet.

instead, his massive hands held your hips in place, his thumbs bruising into your bone as he pushes in again— slowly, even slower than before, not to mention cruel as you swear you can feel him in your lungs.

the weight of his body crushes the air from your lungs as then—finally, the voice of a man who rarely spoke, yet when he did, the world stilled to listen, "this is what your body was built for."

⚝ PANTALONE

"do you have any idea what it costs me to behave?" pantalone spits out as he shoves you flat on your stomach, one hand forcing your cheek into the mattress, the other kneading the flesh of your ass.

by this point, you're drooling, legs kicked open and cunt stuffed, your arousal and his cum leaking down your thighs, "what costs you not to ruin the moment? tell me, for you to stop smiling at someone who isn't me?"

he slides in with a wet, agonizing stretch as you welcome him with your back arching off the mattress when one arm loops around your body to pull you closer. his cock bullies its way impossibly deep thick inside you, and every move of his was screaming rich and cruel as pantalone fucks you like he negotiates— with control and precision, aside from enough venom to bleed you dry, every slap of him scraping you raw from the inside out.

his voice was like a hiss in your ear, thoroughly sharp with jealousy, "you're mine, everything you have is mine, your cunt, your moans, the pathetic way you soak the sheets— all of it," as he belittles you, slapping his hips against you so wildly the sound of it all almost drowned out his voice.

you sob into the pillow as he repeatedly slams into you, again and again, losing control as you're too occupied with salivating in the feeling of his thick cock pounding you relentlessly hard, fucking into you so deeply with everything he's got as his fingers dig into your hips, your stomach caving in from how deep he hits your insides, from the unforgiving stretch and the endless mess between your thighs.

"you wanna be greedy?" pantalone sneers, "you want more? more cock? more cum? i'll give you everything, i'll fill you so full, it'll spill out every time you try to walk away from me," as his rhythm breaks down into desperate, needy thrusts as he bites your shoulder hard to somehow contain himself.

without a doubt, the harbinger fucks like he owns time itself— as if he bought it? truly controlled and luxuriating in every inch of your body like it's the spoils of an empire. yet when he loses it at last, oh, and when the mask cracks you ask? his rhythm shatters into frenzied, gasping thrusts, each one an obvious confession of everything money cannot buy.

at last, he cums with his lips hovering over your throat before sinking his teeth into your shoulder sharp and punishing, almost brutal until a faint amount of blood blossoms under his mouth like a signature as he moans into the subtle wound, his breathing ragged and body spent

"you belong to me, do you understand? i’ll never let you go," how befitting of pantalone to fuck you like he's angry at you giving someone else a faint amount of attention— if he could even claim for it to be the reason still when in reality, the harbinger simply wanted to put you in your place.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #zhongli x reader #zhongli smut #dottore x reader #dottore smut #capitano x reader #capitano smut #pantalone x reader #pantalone smut #kinktober #yandere #zhongli x you #dottore x you #pantalone x you #capitano x you

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affableramen · 9 months ago

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what they sound like when they finish first time, early + established relationship headcanons mature content, 18+ only

Wriothesley

First time with him: he’s quite nervous but on top of it he’s also very excited. as your tightness gave him overstimulation, he comes with a partially suppressed groan while holding onto your waist tightly.

Early relationship: because of he’s leading the way and focusing on pleasuring you first and utmost, it’s difficult for him to think of his own pleasure, so he doesn’t moan on the early times with you, and when you come he enjoys your voice, not mixing it with his.

Established relationship/marriage: it’s the time when he indulges his needs to, so he no longer has to suppress his voice. he loves a good domestic sex with you and when he finishes, he might as well let out some steamy groans as evidence of his not only physical but emotional orgasm.

Tartaglia

First time with him: as he’s inexperienced, he gives in to the feelings of passion and groans his lungs out.

Early relationship: there’s lots of pleasing you and only you, and tartaglia doesn’t even need to be inside you to blow his release in his pants as he eats you out, his head between your thighs making shivers run down your spine. and just to make sure, he’s not exactly trying to muffle his sounds of bliss.

Established relationship/marriage: loud. just know it, the both of you are quite loud and no longer shy with one another as you share domestic relationship with intimacy included.

Neuvillette

First time with him: it was very difficult for him to stay quiet, starting from your tightness and ending with your sweet screams as you reach an orgasm brought to you by the hydro sovereign dragon.

Early relationship: he only lets out soft moans precisely when he cums, and he especially lets those escape his lips when you’re giving him an oral pleasure (let’s mention that Neuvillette is generally shocked that you’d agree to give him oral in the first place).

Established relationship/marriage: you need to tell him that you love his voice, because Neuvillette can do it differently. one day he allows you to be the only one groaning with passion, and the other day he gives in losing his head so much that he ends up screaming with you.

Pantalone

First time with him: hisses under his breath because of how much release you pulled out from him. he did not expect anything so pleasant, besides it has been a long time since he felt aroused by someone.

Early relationship: doesn't make sound at all when cumming. he’s focused on bringing pleasure to you (and listening to your orgasm) so he finds his own vocalisation tacky and improper.

Established relationship/marriage: can barely keep his mouth shut; the desire to moan for you is immense while he’s balls deep inside your gummy heat, ready to squirt his release anytime soon.

Ayato

First time with him: listen, but Ayato here is the only man who prefers being completely silent during bed activities and reacting to the bodily sensations with his body. he simply doesn’t moan and he may seem cold in sex activities, but the movements of his body tell a different story.

Early relationship: Ayato is quite adamant to your requests of him being louder in bed. he keeps sticking to the tradition of him being the quiet one.

Established relationship/marriage: might finally allow you to see his vulnerable side, but only in established relationship. as he comes, he is more of a moaner than a groaner.

Capitano

First time with him: he did not expect you to be so good for him and he enjoys the first time immensely, groaning in the end of passion when your hands are intertwined tightly.

Early relationship: he usually groans only when cumming and the whole process he is silent as a fish. that’s how good his self control is.

Established relationship/marriage: he makes a different various set of noises during his release together with you, usually shifting from rough grunting to gentle moaning in the end once he emptied his balls for his darling wife.

Dottore

First time with him: Dottore is really shy at the first time with you so he cages his feelings, even though it is ridiculously hard for him to suppress the moans as he cums with you. he breaks into a million pieces after having cherished you on the first time together in bed.

Early relationship: it’s difficult for Dottore to express his emotions and he is not great at interpreting what he feels in general, but he is good at picking up your mood, so he observes you a good amount of time. when the two of you get the desired release, Dottore doesn’t back off and vocalises his orgasm to you.

Established relationship/marriage: he is loud, expressive and nasty, this is it.

Alhaitham

First time with him: everything about you is too much for him, and when your pussy squeezes him tight, your body attempting to milk him dry, Alhaitham loses it with a raspy delicious groan.

Early relationship: lots of gasps, moans, he almost begs you to come together and as the two of you do, Alhaitham is sure to display his emotions to you. not all at once though, but as his eyebrows furrow together and he splatters his seed, he’ll most likely end up panting into the shell of your ear.

Established relationship/marriage: this is the time when he becomes completely shameless in your bed activities and he gives in to pleasure completely, showing you lots of satisfaction while whimpering and gasping out loud as his lips quiver with your name.

Dainsleif

First time with him: he is shocked with your willingness to accept him and when he finishes, he does so with a loud, raspy moan, embarrassed, though, he buries his face into your neck to muffle it.

Early relationship: he lets you tease him more and more but ends up letting out noise much more than he’d like to. the pleasure of having you in his arms so intimately and closely drives him nuts and he comes with a moan much more exposed than the previous time.

Established relationship/marriage: not afraid to be shameless anymore, Dainsleif not only releases his pent up load for you, but his pretty moans as well. oh, he is not going to be quiet, not with you.

Baizhu

First time with him: it was insanely difficult for dr. Snek to keep his composure while ruining you with his gracious body. the sounds of your pleasure seemed to have awoken something deep within him and the calm facade of the pharmacist broke at once. what I mean to say is that yes, he moaned during your first time.

Early relationship: he sincerely tries to keep quiet and fails, however. you just feel too good, pulling him closer and taunting him to be rougher, less courteous with you.

Established relationship/marriage: oh, how he loves to devour you whole, and how deep that groan is, coming from his lips as he enjoys you spread out on his working desk.

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blueberrisdove-sideblog · 5 months ago

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𓂃 ࣪⋆💿˚ ༘ . HIT IT RAW !

✿ tws : multi-fandom men x fem!reader. nsfw/smut, creampie, dubcon, hair pulling, chocking, rough s*x, possessiveness & obsession, crying & tearing during s*x, mocking and humiliation.

CRUEL MEN… who seize control without hesitation, their strength undeniable as he slams his cock inside you with no warning. There’s no tenderness, no patience—only the raw, unrelenting force of his desire as he claims what’s his. Your breath catches in your throat, a sharp gasp torn from your lips as your body struggles to keep up, your mind reeling from the sudden intrusion.

“Too late to back out now,” he murmurs, voice dripping with amusement as he grips your waist, fingers pressing bruises into your skin. “You can take it.”

He doesn’t wait for you to adjust, doesn’t offer you a moment to process—because he doesn’t need to. You’re his, meant to be used, meant to be molded to his will, and he makes sure you understand that with every brutal thrust. Your protests dissolve into choked whimpers, swallowed by the overwhelming mix of fear and something darker, something addictive that coils in your stomach.

“You’re shaking,” he muses, his pace never faltering. “Does it hurt? Or do you like it?”

His grip tightens as he pulls you onto him again and again, taking what he wants without a second thought. He fucks you like he owns you, like he has no intention of ever letting you go. The sheer intensity leaves you dizzy, toes curling, pleasure and pain blurring together into something that steals the air from your lungs.

“Look at you,” he groans, voice thick with satisfaction as he watches you crumble beneath him. “Fucking perfect when you’re like this.”

You’re helpless, trapped in the heat of his body, lost in the dizzying force of his dominance. And yet, even as he pushes you past your limits, even as your body trembles from the force of his claim, you can’t bring yourself to pull away. Because there’s something intoxicating about his cruelty, about the way he takes without asking, leaving you with no choice but to surrender.

His cock drives deep inside you, stretching you open with every brutal thrust. There’s no hesitation in the way he takes you—only raw, ruthless desire. Your pussy clenches around him, trying to keep up, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t slow down, doesn’t let up, only fucks you harder, making sure you feel every inch of him.

“Fuck,” you gasp, fingers gripping onto anything for support, but it’s useless. He’s relentless, his cock slamming into you over and over, the wet sounds of your pussy only spurring him on.

“That’s right,” he chuckles darkly, one hand sliding up to grab your tits, fingers pinching and rolling your nipples until you whimper. “So fucking sensitive. You like this, don’t you?”

You try to deny it, but the way your body reacts betrays you. Every time he buries himself to the hilt, your clit throbs, the pleasure mixing with the sharp sting of his rough treatment. It’s overwhelming—the way he uses you, the way he claims you without mercy.

“Say it,” he growls, leaning in close, breath hot against your ear. His pace never falters, every thrust knocking the air from your lungs. “Say you love it when I fuck you like this.”

You barely manage a whimper, your mind foggy, your body too lost in the sensations to think. But he won’t let you off that easily. His fingers find your clit, rubbing tight circles that make your legs shake.

“Say it,” he demands, his voice dripping with dominance.

“I—” Your voice breaks, another sharp thrust making you cry out. “I love it… I love it when you fuck me like this.”

“Good girl.” His smirk is nothing short of wicked as he fucks you harder, faster, making sure you understand exactly who you belong to.

His hand tangles in your hair without warning, yanking your head back so you’re forced to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark, filled with something possessive—something dangerous. You barely have time to gasp before his other hand wraps around your throat, fingers tightening just enough to make your breath hitch.

“There it is,” he murmurs, watching as you tremble beneath him. “That little look in your eyes… You’re scared, aren’t you?”

You try to shake your head, but his grip keeps you still. The truth is, you are scared. The way he’s fucking you—relentless, merciless, like he doesn’t care if it’s too much—has your body torn between fear and something far more dangerous. Your pussy clenches around his cock involuntarily, and he groans, his fingers tightening around your throat in response.

“Liar,” he breathes, his grip flexing just enough to make you lightheaded. “Your body tells me everything I need to know.”

His cock slams into you again, hitting that spot that makes you see stars, and your moan is choked by the pressure around your throat. His pace is brutal, your slick dripping down your thighs as he takes everything he wants, stretching you past your limits. Your tits bounce with every thrust, and he watches them hungrily, his hand sliding down to squeeze one roughly.

“Look at you,” he sneers, voice thick with amusement. “You act so innocent, but your pussy’s sucking me in like you were made for this.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as the pleasure builds unbearably fast, your clit throbbing from the way he’s fucking you so deep, so rough. His fingers slide between your legs, rubbing cruel circles around your clit, and your whole body jolts.

“N-No—” you gasp, trying to squirm away, but he only tightens his grip in your hair, holding you still.

“No?” he echoes mockingly, dragging your body flush against his. “You think you have a choice, baby?” His voice is low, dark, sending shivers down your spine. “You’re mine. This pussy is mine. And I’ll take whatever I want.”

His grip tightens around your throat again, just enough to make your vision blur at the edges. Your body is burning, trembling from the overwhelming pleasure as his cock pounds into you mercilessly. It’s too much, too intense, but you can’t stop the way your body responds—the way your pussy clenches around him, the way your hips instinctively roll to meet his thrusts.

“That’s right,” he groans, feeling you tighten around him. “You can fight it all you want, but in the end, you’ll still cum on my cock like a good little slut.”

𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓈 : FLAME REAVER, Blade, SUKUNA, Fyodor?, Panatalone, Scaramouche, DOTTORE, Capitano + your faves !

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

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satinroses · 6 months ago

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Night Time Routines

How the harbingers and their darlings ready for bed

Yan! Harbingers x reader (separate)

Feat: Capitano, Dottore, Pantalone and Scaramouche

Word Count: 3.4K

A/N: “honk shoooo honk shoooo” - capitano, “zzzzz zzzz” - Pantalone, “honk mi mi mi” - Scaramouche, dottore’s doesn’t snore but he does speak in fluent sentences in his sleep and it’s terrifying. thank you for coming to my ted talk. also yes i made scaras pretty purple eyes light up like ei’s when she’s using her skill, the more raiden parallels the better in my opinion

Warnings: 5.3 archon quest spoilers, Yandere behaviours, i have likely not proof read this as well as i should have so i apologise for any mistakes, dark themes, some mentions of NSFW themes but no actual smut, being robbed of making choices, they all have serious control issues

Capitano:

Capitano has struggled with sleep for centuries now, he hopes you take no offence when he doesn’t join you at night however he would never wish to make you feel neglected. The primary reason he stole you away was to could ensure that you are treated with the dignity and adoration that befits someone of your character.

If your hair is long enough then he takes great care in braiding it every night. You’re surprised that a man of his stature is able to manoeuvre his fingers so nimbly through your hair. If braids aren’t your style or they simply wouldn’t work with your hair then he patiently awaits your instruction. Whether you want a bun, a ponytail or simply for your hair to flow freely he will diligently do as you command.

Although some aspects of your night routine may resemble that of Pantalone’s darling, Capitano doesn’t force you to abide by any particular routines. As long as you get enough rest he doesn’t mind if you spend every evening huddled in the library, just please allow him to sit with you as you read, nothing would bring him greater pleasure.

Despite the first harbinger being unable to sleep due to the constant burden of the tormented souls upon him, he does find comfort in the domesticity partaking in your nightly routines affords him. Watching your eyes flutter shut, hearing the words that slip out of your mouth leaving him to guess what you could possibly be dreaming about, watching over you when you are at your most defenceless.

He finds it utterly endearing to see you in this state. His heart feels much lighter the first night you fall asleep in his presence. He understands you may hold some resentment towards him for stealing you away from your home and the life you knew yet he is able to find hope in the vulnerability your behaviour shows. Being in your most docile and helpless form around him must surely mean you hold some form of trust for him. Trust is something he can work with, he’s certain now that he can cultivate this small piece of trust that you’ve extended to him from a sapling into a flourishing bloom and in time, perhaps you’ll forgive him for the selfish decision he made. He was utterly mindless and inconsiderate when he took you with him, against your will. Every day he lives with the shame of stealing you and yet... watching over you as you lay in his sheets, he cannot bring himself to regret it.

He shuts his eyes and listens to the rhythm of your breaths, a symphony that brings him nothing but relief. The knowledge that you were resting peacefully by his side invigorates him far more than slumber ever could.

After some time passes and he truly believes you are warming up to him in spite of everything, he might slip into your bed (with your permission of course). He’s unsure what to do at first, so overwhelmed with your closeness and warmth but as you begin to drift into a dreamscape, he allows his hands to wander slightly (but never anywhere inappropriate, despite how desperately he might crave your body he would never force you to do anything that might dishonour you). The body heat that emanates from you brings him immeasurable comfort as he forgets about the pain of the abyssal rot ravaging his body, instead focusing on the softness of your skin on his.

To feel you against him, your body tucked against his, it brings comfort that settles deep in his bones, not even the heavenly principles nor the curse that eats away at his flesh could strip it from him. For the first time in 500 years he remembers what its like to have a home.

Dottore:

You have the misfortune of having spent more time alone with Dottore than anyone else in Teyvat. In spite of his near constant presence, you had never once see him or any of his clones go to sleep. Once every few months you’ll catch him with his eyes shut and hunched over his desk, you assume he has finally drifted off but then mere seconds later his eyes will shoot open and his hands resume tinkering with whatever (or whoever) has had the misfortune of piquing his interest.

Prior to eliminating his clones he often used them as lab assistants, citing that the only person who he could trust to fulfil his work to the measure of perfection he demanded was himself. As the sun began to set whichever of his clones had the least to do would be charged with escorting you from his laboratory in the cellars of Zapolyarny palace to your shared estate. Much to Dottore’s annoyance, he swears that as the moon begins to rise, the segments begins to rush to finish their tasks in hopes of being the one to escort you home.

From early morning to night time you are forced to remain wherever Dottore is however he understands you are only human (for the time being, however he has plans to change that) and you require rest so he allows you to go home and sleep with the caveat that a segment remains by your side as he repeats a similar sentiment as he did earlier, that being the only man he would ever trust with your safety is himself.

Upon prime having to destroy the clones he is visibly on edge despite his dismissals when you try to enquire about it. It’s evident to you that without having the security of his segments watching over you he is tense. He now forbids you from going home, even with a platoon of Fatui guarding you, he has made far too many enemies to count over the years, he isn’t foolish enough to entrust your safety to some lackeys that even the eleventh could carve through with ease.

Much to your dismay he also states that he cannot take so much time away from his experiments to tend to your slumber and that from now on you will be sleeping in the laboratory.

It doesn’t take much exertion for his brilliant mind for him to deduce that you are not thrilled at this development.

After a few days of complaining he finally cracks. You seem to find a fault with every aspect of his laboratory.

”I’m uncomfortable”

”My back hurts”

”It’s too loud”

”It’s too bright”

”It’s too hot”

“It’s too cold”

”This pillow is lumpy”

”I can feel you staring at me”

It drives him mad. His next experiment will be on your voice, he has to test his hypothesis that there is something particular about your voice, perhaps it’s the tone or the pitch but whenever you speak he can’t help but grant you his full attention.

He prides himself on his resilience but for you he has always been quick to crack. Seeing you in such a bad mood puts him in a bad mood. Suddenly his patience has been shortened exponentially, the screams of his patients grind on his nerves far too quickly, leading to many experiments being cut short.

The following morning you will see two anemo skirmishers setting down a large object covered in a dust sheet in the far corner of the laboratory. You raise your question to Dottore, asking what it is. Only then does he set down his tools, a tiny smirk blooms across his face as he takes your hand in his and leads you across the room before lifting the sheet off the object and looking at you expectantly.

It was a single bed with plain white sheets and a single pillow. It was hardly exuberant but for Dottore to even show any form of regard for the discomfort of any living being was nothing short of a miracle.

If you ask him what prompted this his voice will grow venomous as he bites out that your endless complaints were a hindrance to his experiments but you see the self-satisfied sneer on his face as he soaks in your gratitude.

Admittedly you do still have to endure the screams of those unfortunate enough to end up strapped to the operating table as he refuses to allow you any form of noise cancellation lest he needs you for something (he never has but you’re sure he just doesn’t want to give you any avenues for ignoring him), at least you can keep your head staunchly under your pillow for whatever small form of muting the cries that it's able to provide.

Pantalone:

In spite of your resentment for Pantalone you could not deny the morbid interest you had in watching him go about his day. As an outsider you couldn’t shrug the pervasive feeling that had settled in your mind that his whole day seemed to be more of an elaborate routine rather than a man naturally progressing through the day.

Every paper, painting and plate had a specific place in his life and that was how Pantalone preferred it. One night at dinner you had made note of it and he had let out a rare chuckle as he gazed at you from across the grand mahogany dinner table. He put down his utensils before taking a moment to stare down at his hands, twisting the rings back into place so that the gemstones on them rested perfectly on his fingers, glimmering just right in the light before he acknowledged that perhaps some people might agree that he can be a little particular.

From the moment he had taken you into his home, he made sure that you too fit into his routine as flawlessly as everything else. He had expectations that you would meet if you knew what was good for you. Throughout the day his routine never once relaxed and as such, neither did yours. From the moment dinner ends he has you on a schedule that he had devoted hours to ensure it would allow you to fit into his schedule as perfectly as he wants you to. Like a ballerina wound up in a jewellery box, you would pirouette seamlessly to whichever melody he desired and you only move when he winds your cogs, never before.

Once you rise from the dinner table and he returns to his study, you are taken directly to your shared chambers with Pantalone by your ladies maids. In the porcelain tub within the en-suite sits a pool of hot water, still steaming with heat. Standing there awkwardly with only a silk robe wrapped around you as maids flutter in and out of the room. You stay rocking on the balls of your feet until at last the head maid returns, with her she carries a silver tray upon which rests several different bottles of fragrant oils and soaps to add to your bath.

Perhaps if you had been a little less perceptive you would believe this to be one of the areas in your life in which he allows some leniency but that is not the case. You are certain beyond all measure that each and every scent has gotten his approval before being presented to you. Maybe you should be thankful for this small illusion of choice but it only makes the reality of you situation sting in your tear ducts.

As you smell each one the head maid takes great enthusiasm in telling you the elaborate backstory for each and every bottle. Although its her voice speaking, you can hear his words.

The violet grass scent that had been acquired from the very highest point of Liyue’s immense mountain scape lending to it’s powdery floral notes being far more potent that before.

The sakura bloom oil had been extracted from a handful of petals that had been struck by the Shogun’s own divine lightning lending to it’s typical sweet smell having a bright undertone. You couldn’t stand that oil, you swore every time you applied it, it tingled.

The glaze Lilly that this oil had been diffused from had allegedly only bloomed when an adeptus descended from her abode in Jueyun Karst to serenade the flower and coaxing it into opening its petals. Supposedly its scent was so delicate and intoxicating that everyone who smelt it wept tears of joy. You didn’t think it smelt much different than any other glaze Lilly.

After a dozen more being presented to you, each with its own elaborate origins you simply grabbed the bottle closest to you on the tray, not caring which. They all smelt far too similar to care.

Since the day you were taken he had insisted that there was no price too high for his beloved. Perhaps he thinks you find his gifts romantic, instead you can’t help but laugh bitterly at the irony of your bathing products being better travelled than you are.

After nearly an hour of several maids scrubbing you from head to toe (when you had originally arrived you had refused their help however once Pantalone caught wind of this he had punished the maids for it. You had pleaded with him that it was your own fault for refusing their help and to please not punish them for your actions. He smiled gently, thanking you for your honesty before pressing a gently kiss to your forehead yet he said nothing about pardoning the maids, dismissing you at every mention of it. You had an entirely different group of maids tending to you the following morning and every subsequent morning after that).

After leaving the bath and drying off, you were dressed in a night gown. They were undoubtedly the worst part of the night, although they were beautiful they were also covered in itchy lace with necklines too deep and hems too short for the Snezhnayan winter.

After being dressed you would sit down at your vanity and methodically brush your hair with the gifts he had gotten you from Mondstadt: a boar bristle brush with a silver handle (he claimed the bristles were from a mighty bore sovereign native to Dragonspine) and a Dragon bone comb (he also had this made in Dragonspine, the bone acquired from the skeleton of Durin, the comb was a sturdy bone that no matter what always stayed warm).

Finally you would lie in bed and wait for your husband. If he decides to join you then you can slip gently into your dreams, the one place where you can forget about the heavy arm latched around your waist and the fingers tangled in your hair. On more unfortunate nights, he would not join you in your shared chambers, instead he would expect you to come to him. Shuffling sleepily through dark corridors until you finally reached the tall doors of his study. Your knuckle barely grazes the wood before the door swings open and he offers you a gentle smile before wrapping his arm around your waist and coaxing you in.

If you were lucky a few well-placed tender kisses to his neck would persuade him to abandon his work and join you in bed however some nights he would have you sat on his lap until the sun rose. Those nights you rarely slept well as you had to deal with his mutterings, the candle light illuminating the room and the way he adjusted you on his lap. If you were lucky you could shut your eyes and feign sleep when you felt something hard growing beneath you, other nights he was insistent on your participation.

Scaramouche:

Throughout the countless waking hours you’ve spent in unwilling solitude with the sixth harbinger you were hardly surprised at the revelation that his sour attitude persists far past the sunset and well into the moonlit hours. If anything his annoyance only grew the closer you crept to retiring for the night.

Having no knowledge of his marionette body’s ability to endure without sleep, you couldn’t disguise your discomfort the first night you shared his bed and his lilac eyes stayed glued to you all night, their vibrant hue glowing in the dark of your chambers. You could see the dim purple light in the room, even through your eyelids. His illuminated eyes wouldn’t move from your face as you rested. It doesn’t matter how often you late in the night you might wake up or how often you squint through your half-closed eyes at him, Scaramouche’s gaze stays fixed intently on you from the moment you pull the blankets over your shoulders.

Should you somehow develop a fondness for your captor you will quickly learn that in spite of his feelings for you, he is not an attentive or affectionate man. Scaramouche scoffs at the proposal of ‘cuddling’. He spits out that he will not entertain such pathetic displays of fondness, not even for you. The firm tenor in his voice makes you believe that there is no room for negotiation on the matter, however from that night onwards, his hand remains fixed tightly around your wrist the moment you retire under the covers with him.

One particularly irritating trait about Scaramouche is his insistence that you never turn away from him, many times your awoken by a set of firm hands clamped down on your shoulders as they turn you around in the bed, back to facing him. While you are both waking and sleeping he refuses to allow you to turn your back to him, you’re unsure as to why and frankly you’re not certain you wish to know. There are aspects of your captor's past that you're undoubtedly influence his current actions yet you do not wish to learn such things, not yet.

On exceptionally rare occasions, oftentimes after an intimate night of gently unwinding with him, removing his clothing with all the attentiveness he has expected to be synonymous with being the wife of the sixth harbinger. Brush your lips gently over his skin with a tenderness in your touch he hasn’t felt since… he can’t recall. After several hours in each others passionate embrace, Scaramouche may fall into a restless slumber. You may initially find this rare period of sleep from him to be enjoyable however it opens the gateway to a version of Scaramouche you may find yourself unfamiliar with.

The first night Scaramouche falls asleep in your presence, you soon understand his disdain for sleep. The whimpers and cries that escape the balladeer are completely uncharacteristic for him. You had never heard his voice assume any tone beyond a haughty drawl or an intimidating bark, you almost didn’t recognise it was Scaramouche speaking until a familiar word escaped his throat.

”Y/N...”

It was undoubtedly the balladeer speaking however his voice had been fragile and light as he spoke your name, as though saying it too harshly would cause it to shatter.

”Y/N… come back, please…”

“please...” he had whispered out and the word sounded almost foreign on his tongue. Until now you had assumed the word didn’t even exist in the harbingers vocabulary. His sleep only seemed to worsen. You sat up, unsure whether you should wake him or not. His gentle murmurs were slowly growing louder and more desperate. You watched as his sleeping form writhed across the bed, his arms fully extended as his fingers clenched and unclenched, grasping and pawing at the bedsheets.

You slowly nudged yourself closer to him, preparing to wake him from whatever nightmares was plaguing him until his hand brushed against your night clothes. Suddenly his fist clenched tightly around your waist as he yanked your body impossibly closer, curling around you.

The following morning he untangled his limbs from yours before quickly scurrying out of the room. His gaze never met yours but from the chaste kiss and the way his eyes refused to look up from the ground… you swore he almost seemed embarrassed, his demeanour suiting that of a pouting child rather than an agent of destruction.

As you opened the bedroom doors not long after his departure, the stench of sizzled flesh wafted through the corridors. Some poor Fatuus were now paying the price in blood for Scaramouche’s humiliation as they were demoted from subordinates to the punching bags for him to unleash his rage on. The part of himself that he had buried so deeply, shrouded in layer and layer of bitterness and rage, had exposed itself to your discerning gaze and his mortification was suffocating him.

If he were a weaker man perhaps the humiliation would have brought tears to his eyes but he was stronger than the mewling little wretch he used to be. Like forging a sword, he had beaten the impurities out one by one in the heat of his own hatred and the boiling of his blood until only the perfect blade remained. cold. lethal. merciless. He is no quivering weakling that can simply be thrown away. Not anymore. Never again. In spite of his pathetic display last night he would make certain you and everyone else remembers it.

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makelemonade · 1 year ago

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THE FATUI’S CUMSLUT

all the male harbingers except Pulcinella

Really it all starts out simple; you were just a simple secretary for the Harbingers who worked directly under Pantalone.

So naturally it starts because of him.

He likes talking to you- not like, actually, loves. You’re the only person who’s actually willing to listen to his constant rambles about his theories of currency and he doesn’t know if it’s out of fear or because you’re actually willing but he still finds comfort in it.

It’s so comforting that honestly, it kinda turns him on…like no one has ever actually sat with him and listened to him with such focus that he’s lining over you, both lovingly and sickingly.

How the stress relief starts…he’s bold.

by bold, meaning you quite literally caught him jerking off to the thought of you as you walked into bring him a few papers to sigh, and he was bold enough to ask you for your help; and of course you oblige!

okay now actually onto the actual smut part;

Pantalone, who is probably the second sweetest out of all of them when he fucks you. As teasing as he is, he makes sure to pleasure you.

Pantalone, who just laughs when you say you want to pleasure him instead, and he’ll tell you that your pleasure is enough to get him off for days.

Pantalone, who sometimes just can’t handle all the stress the others push on him and he’ll come find you, bending you over any near substance and prioritizing his pleasure just for a bit.

Pantalone, who can also just push you against the wall of the castle halls, not caring if anyone sees you. He knows the risk turns you on, and he loves it.

Pantalone, who fucks into you so passionately yet roughly; so obsessed with how your tits bounce he just has to grope them as he fucks you. He might even fuck them too, and let you suck the tip of his cock.

Pantalone, who passes this information onto his good partner Dottore, who decides he has to really test out the theory that you’re as good as Pantalone says you are.

Dottore, who decides he’ll need you for certain experiments. You’re hesitant, but he promised he’d never do anything to hurt his loyal assistant.

Dottore, whose experiments are really just seeing how many times you can cum on a drug, a toy, his hand or his dick.

Dottore, who is WAY more teasing than Pantalone and wants to pleasure you, but makes sure his pleasure is always given no matter what.

Dottore, who loves to try any new kink or idea with you. Whether it be bondage, role playing kink- anything! you’re the only one he will do it with

Dottore, who is just so rough on your poor cunt :( who’ll rub your clit as he fucks into you so harshly, the slaps echoing through his lab.

Dottore, who WILL fuck you in front of the segments or have multiple of them fuck you while he watches

Dottore, who then passes this onto his comrade, Capitano.

Capitano, who is the sweetest out of all of them.

Capitano, who yes, does need you for his stress relief but he doesn’t wanna hurt you. Instead, he’ll go at your own pace- he knows his cock is too big for you and is patient to get you ready.

Capitano, who praises the most out of them all. It’s a shock because he’s typically quiet, but a “good girl” will make you cum on the spot.

Capitano, who will only go rough on you once you beg him too, and he will quite literally fuck you like a monster.

Capitano, who is just so big even his fingers make you go crazy. He’ll wipe your tears as you complain about how big it is and he’ll try his best to soothe you.

Capitano, when rough, goes absolutely drunk on your pussy and fucks his cum into it for hours even if you’re too overstimulated.

Capitano, who’s coat is so big that when the others aren’t using you, he’ll have you sit on his lap during meetings and wrap his coat around you- hiding how you’re warming his cock, or sometimes he might not even use the coat.

Capitano, who passes this information onto his good friend, Pierro.

Pierro, who could be the sweetest if we considered this in terms of how gentle they were when they fuck you.

Pierro, who is actually practically monsterfucking you whenever he chooses to use you.

Pierro, who is sweet because he doesn’t like to use you a lot- he knows how much the others do and how much it makes you sore so instead he’s the king of aftercare, making sure you come to him after them if they don’t take care of you so that he can.

Pierro, who sometimes just can’t help it because he’s too stressed out, and has to bend you over his desk and fuck you for hours.

Pierro, who does care about your pleasure just a bit, but you are his stress relief aren’t you? He’ll remind you as he cums for the nth time in you, you a babbling a mess.

Pierro, who isn’t really as kinky or exhibiting as the others and likes to fuck you in the comfort of his office. However, he may steal Capitano’s idea and slowly and subtly bounce you on his cock while you’re under his coat, hiding from the others.

Pierro, who’s dick is just too big that the moment he even lets the tip in you’re already going absolutely drunk on his cock.

Pierro, who notices Childe’s recent sickness caused by his delusion, and suggests a reason for him to finally relax in certain ways; you.

Childe, who is the last on the list of being the sweetest.

Childe, who sure, he’ll praise you when you do so good and degrade you just how you like- will use you the most out of all the men

Childe, who is just soooo tired and stressed and he needs your pussy to suck his cock in at least once every hour.

Childe, who will have you cockwarm him as he does his work and spanks your thigh when you try to get some relief and tells you to be patient and that he’ll tend to you once he’s done.

Childe, who does care about your pleasure and makes sure to make you cum first, but the real reason is because he wants you overstimulated so you can cry and beg for him to stop- it turns him on because you know you don’t want him to.

Childe, who will fuck you anywhere and everywhere. The lounge rooms? Every couch has been used. The kitchen? You’ve been bent over every counter? The halls? He’ll hold you up and fuck into you.

Childe, who does not care if someone sees or hears you two and will purposely make you scream so the subordinates outside his office can hear and remind them that they can’t have someone as gorgeous as you.

Childe, who even if it seems like he sees you as his cock sleeve, does care about you and makes sure you get good aftercare and will massage you- him and Pierro are great minds alike.

Childe, who is the one to suggest to all of them to use you when they’re all in the castle.

You, who by the end of the day, is a babbling mess; you’re covered in their cum while some of it dropped out of all your holes. There were honestly hundreds of bite and hickey marks littered over you- your neck, thighs, tits, ass, hips. It’s insane. and all they can think about is how they can’t wait to continue using your slutty pussy.

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rockingbytheseaside · 11 months ago

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omg, I am quite literally in love with your work.

pls I cannot tell you how frickin ecstatic I am when I read your stuff 😭 like I’m Fr Rolling on the floor and stopping every five secs bc of the butterflies-

AND! I saw that your asks are open!! (If I misread/misunderstood then I’m so sorry and just ignore this) I was wondering if you could do Harbingers x reader when they find reader quietly weeping- like reader thought they were alone and didn’t wanna burden them :3 romantic if you would !!

no pressure ofc!!!! fr I love ur stuff sm like I’ve been reading ur stuff OVER AND OVER😭😭😭

(bshdhsgdhagjds Okay, let me just hold in my tears- that’s so kind of you anon! Sorry for making you wait, I hope this is something similar to what you wanted)

✦ How they comfort you when you cry

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Childe

Sometimes, your days might feel bitter, and sometimes the weight of your inner struggles can accumulate into a somber heap of self-doubt. Whether it was a minute inconvenience that resulted in your dampened mood, or stressful memories of the past – the reasons behind it fade into insignificance. Because next thing you know, you feel your shoulders slightly shaking, and your hand reaching to conceal your silent weeping. Thus, when talking becomes a burden and your breath runs short, your beloved is the first to listen to your sniffles.

✧ Pierro’s already icy gaze becomes unreadable. Is it fear? Is it astonishment? Or is it the readiness to unleash hell upon anything that compelled you to shed these silent tears? He sees you hugging yourself, trying to shield yourself away from him. His gloved hands cautiously reach for your form, like a blanket wrapping itself around your shoulders.

“My divine one, why hide your tears away from me? Why conceal the sadness in your eyes when you silently weep? Please, grace me with your gaze and look at me.”

His voice is careful despite its deepness, suppressing his boiling temper at the sight of your sadness. He reaches for you tenderly, and when you turn towards him, you allow yourself to cry further into his chest. He cradles you silently, never once wasting breath on simple shushes or admonishments to cease crying. No, The Jester will hold you, let his lips press softly to your forehead, and let you cry as much as you need. He'll personally worship and wipe every teardrop off your cheek.

Yet despite his gentle arms, you sense him shaking. His gloved hands hold you securely, yet subconsciously gripping. Because pray to the archons above, he will not rest until the source of your sadness is annihilated.

✧ Il Capitano never saw you cry before. He saw you as an equal in matters of battles, duels, and personal life. Through ups and downs, your best and worst. And yet the imposing, mighty Captain never witnessed his beloved’s face slowly scowl and emit those saddened sobs as you're doing now.

“No… who bestowed such sadness onto you, my cherished? What sorrows are you fighting?”

He asks, half in disbelief and worry. The Captain kneels down, the back of his armored hands gracefully meeting your face. He makes sure you’re not physically in pain, his touch asking permission for the simplest caress. You might feel embarrassed to explain why you're crying, but the Captain will coax you to talk only if you bestow him this honor. Otherwise, he never mocks or admonishes you for crying – “This is not a sign of weakness, but a sign of humanity in your strength.”

To soothe you, he'd drape an arm around your shoulder, bringing the side of his coat to shield you. If you desire, he'd immediately discard his coat entirely and wrap it over your shoulders. And if you desire neither this or that, he'd silently kneel, asking for permission to pick you up in his forearms, so you may rest on his shoulder while he carries you away.

✧ You cannot conceal your sorrows from Il Dottore. He suspects you are feeling dejected before you even realize it. Should your shoulders quiver and tears well in your eyes, he'll be the first to perceive it. His already tense countenance will harden, and in short, murderous intent, he’ll ask:

“Who did this to you?”

His first suspension is that someone foolish enough dared to hurt you, and his next task is to seek out that moron. And stars above, if someone did ruin your day, the Doctor will have a new cadaver on his lab table. You'll have to physically restrain the Harbinger in front of you by putting your hands on his shoulder and explaining hurriedly that no one did anything harmful.

Il Dottore won't quell his inner rage so easily though. As you shake your head, and rub your eyes, it will require much persuasion to convince him that it’s not as dire as he suspects. Nonetheless, Dottore will keep a tight hold on your form. If he won't murder someone in rage, then he'll prepare a soothing beverage and wrap you up in a comfortable seating so you may rest your weary head. He’ll have to personally drag you to sit by his lap so you won’t desolate yourself into a depressive fit again.

“Wasting your breath and energy on crying is a futile endeavor. You'll only tire your body out… so rest in my arms before your mind starts weaving more puny sentiments.”

✧ The ever-prideful and strict Scaramouche would find himself faltering into silence when the unfamiliar sound emanates from your being. The hiccupped sounds of choked cries are not foreign to him - he recognized them very well and was personally acquainted with the physical pain of crying. But seeing the closest being, the one he calls most cherished, to unexplainable weep was a new form of pain he had never experienced.

“... Are you-? What's wrong, are you hurt? Did something-!”

An expression of shock and fear bestows the Balladeer, his hands are reluctant and afraid to cross your boundaries when you cry in front of him. His first instinct is to believe that he has erred, that he has hurt you or spoken insensitively. Anguished, his fist tightens, dreading your stern rejection. Yet, all it takes is a gentle shake of your head and a soft reassurance - no, he hasn't actually done anything wrong.

His brow will remain furrowed, and only under your permission, he would glue himself to you in a reassuring embrace. It's only after he's assured of your safety and well-being that the Harbinger begins to ease up and scoff. Maybe, just maybe, he will go and bring your favorite sweets afterward. Regardless, his hands kept cupping your face, thumbs gently wiping your tears.

“Ha, you’re that sensitive that you’d weep at the most minor inconvenience? Fine, I’ll stay here. But don’t get too comfortable. And you better stop apologizing for crying. You should never say sorry for something like that. It’s in your right to cry… Just come to me when something’s troubling you, alright?”

✧ You cannot recall a single instance when Pantalone's captivating smile ever wavered. The man has perfected his charismatic, million-mora smile that only you can discern if he’s being genuine or not. But to witness it dropping completely in a cold stare while you cried was chilling. You felt scared, as the Harbinger grew eerily silent with each slow step, he demanded:

“... Give me names and I will make sure they will disappear permanently.”

You jolted. This was bad, and it sure didn’t quell your sobbing as you hurriedly shook your head. Pantalone took a deep sigh, his brain forced to flip a switch and change to a more tender tone so he wouldn’t scare you further with his sinister rage. He will deal with the causes later. What mattered now was your shaken state. Hence, like the dotting lover he is, he softly inquired whether you wish to talk or have some privacy.

If you willingly welcomed his physical touch, then prepare yourself for a day filled with him enfolding you tightly. He will draw you near, letting you cry your frustrations out until you get fatigued and rest against his lean chest. The Regrator always fulfills his pledges, gently rocking you back and forth. He will vow to spoil you on the next shopping spree and purchase everything you desire - luxuries, clothes, perfumes, or fancy meals, all of it is yours with a snap of his fingers (even if you reprimand his indulgence). His embraces are tenacious, endless kisses raining down on your face until you plead and whine to be released from his insistent hugs.

"My heart, how can I possibly release you when you should be adorned with kisses instead of tears? I am afraid I won’t be so easily reassured until I see your smile again."

✧ Tartaglia’s highlight of the day is mirroring your luminous smile; hence when he first heard your sorrowful sniffles, it felt like a sudden dark cloud washed past him, pouring cold water to wipe his smile off in an instant. Without hesitation, his hand found itself on your shoulder as he guided you to sit first.

“Hey, hey… What’s wrong, darling? I’m here, it’s alright.”

He observes your attempt to explain the root of your troubles, but as you try to elaborate, your tears only intensify against your own will. Kneeling in front of you, his gaze was resolute - he now had a mission. He will immediately soothe your mood with tender words of endearment, lighthearted banter, and the occasional joke here and there, anything to make you crack up with that sweet smile he so adores.

Tartaglia will remind you that first and foremost, he is your Ajax - the one who will bring laughter through his playful teasing and delightful humor during your times of melancholy. The one who will cook you the best Snezhnayan Bliny better than any pancake restaurant. And the one who will always be there so you can lean your head on his shoulder and just feel his heartbeat as he embraces you deeply. In any other circumstances, he is the 11th of the Fatui Harbinger who will work and bloody his fists for your safety. However, for now, you shouldn’t occupy your thoughts with such concerns.

“Hey, it’s alright… You don’t have to feel embarrassed for crying. We all have bad days from time to time. How about this, leave today’s dinner on me. I shall cook your favorite even better than you could imagine! Or else what sort of boyfriend would I be if I’m not spoiling my darling.”

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lavenderchqn · 2 months ago

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✧・┆coughing, sneezing, overall dying

— you've fallen sick with a minor cold. it's up to your partner to help you out.

content warnings: sickness, mentions of medicine, mentions of gagging, not everyone should be a doctor and I'm not talking about Dottore; fluff~

[note.] — this post is volume two of sickness messages scenarios. you can read the first volume here.

𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐎

𝐃𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐄

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐍𝐀

𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐎

𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄

𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐀

date of posting — may 25th 2025

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vultursvolans · 10 months ago

Text

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄: OCT 3RD

— ♤ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: yandere!dottore x assistant!fem reader

— ♤ 𝐜𝐰: obsessive yandere behaviour, emotional manipulation, psychological manipulation, stalking, build up to smut is longish sorry, reader is gullible, dubcon, no preparation, pussy slapping (once), he calls you sweetheart, pet, pup, unprotected sex, creampie, rough sex, power imbalance, biting, 3.5k wc, 18+ only, MDNI.

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

It started with curiosity.

Maybe it was the softness in your voice as you confidently sat in his office, explaining why you would be perfect for the job, or perhaps the way you held onto the belief that he was a good person. But once Dottore saw how much you lit up when he offered you a position on the spot, he knew right then he needed to keep you close.

This new revelation almost terrified him.

Your voice was so innocent, clinging to him like honeysuckle, and that warmth behind your smile—it was too pure, too untainted. It had to be locked away before the world could tarnish it.

If you had paid attention, you would’ve noticed how his gaze lingered a little too long when you spoke; how his questions would dive deeper the more you got to know him.

You were ignorant of how much Dottore had deeply ingrained himself into every facet of your life, playing the role of the emotionally distant boss who eventually found comfort in your company. He saw that flicker of trust in your eyes and allowed you to believe you were the only person who could see the real him: the man behind the mask who bled his heart and soul to you when nobody else was looking.

Everything was calculated. Subtle. You had become his latest obsession—a sweet, little experiment where the only result he deemed acceptable would be having you wrapped around his finger. So he made sure he was the first you turned to when things went wrong, planting seeds of doubts about everyone you knew.

“Forgive me but your friends don’t seem to understand you.”

At first, you dismissed his comments but over time his critiques took root. You saw flaws in people that seemingly weren’t there before which made you wonder if it was truly only Dottore who had your best interest at heart. Gradually, you began to rely on him as your only confidant. Your rock. But it didn’t stop at just your relationships. Dottore had inserted himself into your daily routine, providing solutions for problems you hadn’t realised he created. After minor inconveniences and projects falling through, he was always there to pick up the pieces.

“Here, let me help you with that.”

And every time he did, you felt more indebted to him.

Dottore strung you along for years, feeding you enough affection to have you tethered with him while subtly isolating you from others. And when he finally made you his girlfriend, it was less a declaration of love and more of a confirmation of his control over you.

But you didn’t need to know that.

You are his precious masterpiece, sculpted into the ideal partner, no longer the person you once were but a reflection of his twisted desires.

When calling him “Doctor” transitioned from a professional title to something you moaned whenever he plowed you with his cock, it was difficult for him not to start touching himself at random hours of the day.

Fortunately for him, he could simply just find you while you were working and suddenly, there was something hard pressed against your ass! It always satisfied him a great deal knowing how willing you were to please him, no matter the time of day.

Sometimes he pitied you for never catching on so the first time you went astray, he was somewhat glad that his little darling wasn’t so dense.

“Dottore, I’m finding it difficult to get through to you. I feel suffocated. I’m worried about us.”

He glanced up from his notebook, almost affectionately, “You’re overthinking it, my dear.”

“I think we need some time apart," your words tasted bitter. "I just… need to clear my head. I’m sorry,” you felt guilty for even suggesting it.

“Time apart?” he repeated with a false frown, dropping his book to look at you wholly. “For how long?’

“I’m not sure.”

A tense silence hung between you, and you tried to steady your breath.

“Darling, you’re not making any sense,” he blinked.

“It makes sense to me,” you protested, “I wasn’t asking.”

Truth be told, he was more amused than angered. Although, he wondered what it was that finally provoked your sudden notion. Sure, disagreements were more frequent but it had been so long since this all began. He thought his tactics would be something you were used to by now. Perhaps you were starting to see everything for what it truly was.

Perhaps not.

Your voice was trembling but you were firm in your resolve. Dottore liked that you thought you had a choice, so he entertained you by letting the last of his smile fade from his lips, eyes narrowing in your direction.

“So a break, then? If you think that will benefit us, I understand. But I’m not a mind reader. If something bothers you, you have to tell me, okay?”

His words seemed to melt some of your worries away so you couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him. Could you really doubt someone so patient, so willing to give you space when you needed it?

“Really?”

“Of course," the lie effortlessly slipped between his teeth, "I respect your boundaries."

You nodded as you squeezed his hand and before you could turn away, his grip tightened. “Before you go, let me remind you that I love you, so very much.”

And without warning, he kissed you. It was lingering, with no remorse, disguised as a parting gift—as if to say he knew you’d be back.

“You shouldn’t be doing that,” you said, feeling conflicted.

“Doing what?” He questioned.

Dottore knew exactly what he was doing.

———

Weeks had passed but your time away from him was restless. Days felt semi-wakeful and what emerged was not clarity but the creeping sense that the world was conspiring against you.

It was like your life had taken an irreparable turn. Work became a constant setback, and friends you thought you had made you feel isolated and adrift. Even your home, which once felt cozy and safe, was starting to feel clinical and cold.

And who would be the one to orchestrate your misery other than the Doctor himself? That vendor who suddenly couldn’t get your orders right? A bribe from Dottore. The neighbours who started fighting at all hours? A couple he had manipulated into conflict. Even your small office, a place that once made you feel so productive, now felt claustrophobic and stifling thanks to subtle changes he made while you were away.

Each of these inconveniences wore you down, making you long for the comfort and stability that only Dottore had ever provided.

So when you received a short and carefully worded letter from him, asking how you were, you felt a surge of relief. You didn’t hesitate to see him that very evening, desperate to talk in person.

Before you knew it, you were falling right into his hands.

On your feet, you headed straight to the entrance of his lab and stared at the door before you gave a knock.

“Come in,” he said from inside.

The moment you saw him, he greeted you with that charming smile, and suddenly all the frustration from the past weeks melted away. You rushed into his arms, burying your face into his chest, “I missed you.”

He held you close, stroking the back of your head with practiced gentleness, “Ah! You’re finally back. I can’t say I’ve been happy without you.”

If he was beaming out of satisfaction, you were blind to it. You were too distracted by the need to hear him say it back, to say that he missed you. But instead of the words you longed to hear, he merely held you tighter.

Looking up at him, your eyes searched for reassurance, “Did you miss me?”

He leaned in, pressing a kiss on your forehead, “Of course.”

“Everything’s been so hard,” tears began to well up, “I can’t believe I distanced myself when I needed you the most.”

He was always enthralled whenever he was right.

“Let’s not dwell on that, shall we? I’m here now so don’t fret.”

His words felt like a balm to your wounded soul and you clutched onto his coat as if he might vanish if you let go. You could not refuse him and he wouldn’t allow that option to exist. Dottore watched you, elated with himself, “Come,” he said, taking your hand towards his familiar private quarters, “I have something for you.”

After closing the door behind him, his gaze remained on you, “I was hoping you would see me sooner rather than later,” he started, guiding you to the couch where the two of you sat. “We have much to catch up on.”

Dottore wore his grief convincingly as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a delicate crystal necklace that flickered like ice in the light, “I don’t want to lose you again.” Your heart skipped a beat as he put it on for you, the weight of it cold against your skin. When you relaxed your guard, he leaned in and whispered in your ear, “I can’t lose you. I won’t.”

You thanked him for the gift but felt him craning your head to the side.

“It’s ice quartz," he purred, "For the pure love I have for you. For the healing that I hope it brings to your troubled heart. I’m sorry.”

There was a pause, a thoughtful stillness, and without another word, he kissed the exposed skin of your neck as if you beckoned him to.

His lips were impossible to resist, each kiss slowly claiming you as he trailed his way to your mouth. You allowed your hands to explore his hair, messing up the neatness that once was.

Dottore wasted no time, the moment his lips met yours, you felt his hungry tongue and how it tasted of false apologies and something sickeningly sweet. He kissed you like he was starved—like he'd wanted his mouth on yours for weeks.

"Do you still—" he lightly pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, "—feel suffocated?"

Yes, you wanted to say. But for an entirely different reason now. This type of suffocation made your head spin and left something tingling between your legs.

"No," you finally answered against him. A string of saliva connected the small space between your lips. You relaxed under him and he took it as a chance to shuffle himself between your thighs.

"Hmm, I'm glad," he smirked before forcing another kiss out of you. Between gasps for air, his impatient hands found the hem of your blouse, unbuttoning it as he pushed you on your back. You pulled him down with you because you refused to part from the sinful way his lips collided with yours.

Piece by piece, layers of clothes began to disappear until you were left with nothing except the necklace he had given you.

Spread out like this, you were ravishing, like a fine piece of art and the sight of you went straight to his cock. It throbbed in his slacks and you could hear his breathing growing uneven. At that moment, he could’ve taken you like an animal but he wasn’t ready. Not yet.

“Mmh!” you moaned in surprise as he cupped your breast, fondling your sensitive nipples and practically anywhere else that was available to him. He was so precise in everything he did, it was no wonder he was in his profession.

The time you spent apart had left you already aching for him so when he dipped his fingers between your quivering thighs, he felt your arousal. You were hot and puffy and embarrassingly wet.

Dottore began to toy with your clit and it pulsed under the pads of his fingers. You moaned instantly. But he was excruciatingly light with his touch which only made you desperate for more friction. You whined and even though the sound of it made his heart beat quickly, his face was unreadable.

“Patience,” he urged. Dottore waited for you for weeks and you had the nerve to whine? At the very least you could have made up for the time you robbed from him.

You intended to listen. You really did! But when his fingers teased the entrance of your hole, your body acted before you could think and suddenly, your hips rolled towards him. He had barely even touched you before he stopped.

Tsk, you heard from him, clearly disappointed by your lack of control.

Instead of continuing, he gave your pussy a sudden slap which left you whimpering.

“Why—!” You trembled, feeling its stinging aftermath.

Why?

Simply put, he decided he wasn’t going to bother with what you wanted.

In exchange for running away from him, he would show you that not everything was served on a silver platter. Seeing you go from distressed to dependent on him only excited him more. No one riles him up in the way that you do so he couldn’t bear to wait a second longer.

“Stay like this,” there was something deranged about the smile that appeared on his face. The clinical white glow of his quarters dulled his pale skin yet his teeth glistened through his lips. You felt a chill and it wasn't because of the cold air.

He pulled away and you were immediately drawn to the tight bulge pressing against his pants. Dottore noticed. He knew you were watching.

"Now open your legs for me," he said, breaking you out of your daze. You shifted pathetically under him so it was ultimately his large hand, splayed across your thigh that held you in place. You saw his erection twitch when his eyes fell on your hole, drenched for him and all.

After quickly undoing his trousers, he pushed his throbbing length inside you in one, deep stroke. Your hands curled into the cushions and you were prepared to scream—

"Perfect," he breathed. You didn't need proper preparation. He knew your body better than you did.

Your voice was lodged in your throat as his girth stretched you apart and Dottore couldn’t help throwing his head back, curses falling from his lips at how well you hugged him. You were so beautiful like this. He couldn’t wait to fuck you back into obedience. It was your fault for being this way, really. You were just so malleable, so easy.

“Ah, look at you. So wet already, my little pup. Did you miss me that much?”

“Yes, I did. Yes, I did, Doctor!” you whimpered, and he began thrusting as if rewarding you for your response. His hips slammed mercilessly into yours at an unexpected pace, and you couldn’t even think about any of your frustrations anymore. Each time he slid in and out was like erasing all the concerns you had before this.

“Dottore,” he corrected you. “You call me by my name today.” There was a slight strain in his voice as he fucked you but that was better than what was going on with you. With each thrust bucking into your sweet spot, you could hardly talk.

The coat on his back ruffled behind him with each erratic movement. It was almost humiliating how he remained entirely clothed as he rammed into you. Your bare skin was on display yet not so much as a zipper and his disheveled hair was out of place for him.

Maybe he was too eager, you thought. Or maybe it was because he wouldn’t strip himself for the likes of you. Not when he was trying to remind you that being with him was a luxury. What he needed to etch into your subconscious was:

You could get whatever you want as long as you stay and listen.

Huffing at the sensation of being balls deep inside your pussy, he held you with a bruising grip on your waist, fucking you in a way that had you drooling. You were trying to remember a time when he wasn’t the one making you happy or giving you pleasure—but you couldn’t. Because it didn’t exist.

“Dott…ore,” you called breathlessly, your voice mixing with the sound of your necklace clinking against your chest. He knew you very well, you had more to say than just the spilling of his name. He could see it in your damn eyes.

Lowering himself to your neck, he rutted you even further into the couch, “What is it, my dear?” He asked, biting into you, feeling his hot and heavy breath fanning your skin. You yelped as his teeth clenched, knowing there was going to be a mark later.

“I… love… you…” The words came out in a broken whisper, the sincerity of your confession made his cock twitch inside of you, precum already painting the insides of your hole.

His tongue began to trace a slow and deliberate path from your neck to your ear, keeping his relentless rhythm as he did. “Is that right?” There was a cruel edge to his voice when he spoke. And you nodded back at him, feebly. Truthfully.

“Then act like it,” he hissed, grip tightening as he thrusted sharply.

You shuddered underneath him—out of fear or pleasure, you weren’t sure but you knew you didn’t want it to end. You pulled him closer, winding your hands around his neck while he was deep inside you. “I’m— sorry!” you moaned, an apology slipping out in a haze.

He almost growled at the sensation of you trembling around him, his crimson eyes searing into you, “No, it’s not your fault. I should have paid better attention to you.”

Another lie but exactly what you needed to hear to keep you going.

Lewd squelching sounds filled the room as he reduced you to a filthy mess. Even in your years of being with him, you had never seen him so untamed. Your juices were getting all over his trousers and if you knew any better, you would've seen how he got off on that.

You had almost forgotten where you were, though, at that point, you didn’t care about whether anybody else in the building heard. He fucked you hard and desperately, whatever he needed to do to keep his darling at bay, and you shamelessly cried out his name over and again. It was adorable.

“Dottore… I’m close—! Fuck. Fuck!” You swallowed your words as he pounded you.

"Dirty mouth," he grunted, "Who taught you how to speak like that?"

He hovered above you, so close you could almost feel his hair tickling your face. "Nobody," you moaned quietly this time, feeling ashamed.

Every veiny inch of him was inside you and the more you felt of it, the less you thought. You just wanted to snap, to cum on him while he drove into you.

“Oh my, you're getting tighter,” he cooed, his voice deceptively gentle as he neared his own release. “Feeling good, sweetheart? Finish with me then…”

Fortunately—or unfortunately, his pace became rougher, like a repeated reminder of who he was to you and his hand traveled to your jaw, tipping your head to meet his gaze. Amid your bodies thrashing, he could barely keep up with his own voice,

“No one will ever love you like me

or care about you like me

or fuck you like me. Do you understand, pet?”

“Yes—! Yes, I do,” you panted as you wrapped your legs around him, pulling his hips further into your sloppy cunt. In your lust-clouded daze, you were too weak to register the weight of his words. His sultry voice did a great job at masking the fact that he meant every single thing he said.

Dottore’s face twisted into a more sadistic smile, letting his thoughts get the best of him. He relished in how little and helpless you sounded, how utterly pliant you were to his will. Everything felt right again and you were back to where he had woven you. With a final, brutal snap of his hips, he spilled his seed inside you, locking himself against you.

You arched your back as your orgasm crashed simultaneously—you moaned collectively, and your walls pulsed around his cock like you were milking every drop he’s got. His hips stuttered, not giving a damn about the way your nails bit into his skin. Instead, he slammed his lips onto yours, devouring you in a messy, filthy kiss—a perfect match for the way he had just fucked you senseless.

Still panting, he clutched the side of your face, only gentler now. His thumb stroked your cheek as if savouring the moment of seeing you act the way you should.

“I love you,” he hummed, the words slipped from his lips like it was so natural to him. "I love you."

Of course, he loved you. Everything he has done for you was for himself. Everything has been catered to him.

His sweat-speckled forehead shimmered in the dim light and as you looked up at him, your heart softened. The weight of him on top of you and the comfort in his embrace made you forget everything, lulling you into a peaceful state.

You sighed, feeling a bit foolish for even creating a wall between you. In front of you, he seemed so fragile, like you were the only thing holding him together. How could you have thought he was anything but honest with you all along?

Now, everything felt perfect—perfect in a way that left no room for anything else.

No room for doubt or escape.

a/n: imagine at the end of this you think it's over and suddenly his segments walk in

dividers by @/astrumaur

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aluraveil · 11 months ago

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The Earring

TW: Use of a tracker, unhealthy relationships, yandere, the doctor himself, etc.

Pairing: Yandere Dottore x Reader

Dottore only wears one earring.

Many people have noticed that the mad doctor is missing one on his other ear. Dottore used to have a pair, but now one of them has gone missing. His fellow harbingers have noticed, but frankly they didn’t care enough to inquire about it.

Fatui agents under his command have seen it too. Nobody dared to inquire about it. Like they’ve always said, curiosity kills the cat. Except in this case, it literally means exactly that. Who knows what the harbinger might say if someone who clearly didn’t know their place asked about it? What punishment would they receive? And for that reason, that is why nobody has ever said anything about it.

The truth is, Dottore wears one earring on purpose. Where might the other earring be? Well it’s on your ear of course.

Dottore has thought of the ways to mark his ownership on you for the longest time. With each idea flowing in his head being worser than the other, he wanted to give up. But the sheer idea of other people eying his darling down makes his blood boil.

He knew that he needed a way to show everyone else that you belonged to him. But what could he even do?

The Doctor has seen how the other harbingers have marked their own darling with costly items.

The Doctor knew of the ways how the Regrator would mark his pet with materialistic items such as expensive jewelery and clothing.

But he didn’t want to follow the same approach when marking his own pet. He wanted to be different, he wanted to stand out. He didn’t want to do the same boring thing as the other harbingers.

Dottore would always insist that you wear your part. You’re hesitant to do so, but you didn’t want to disobey him.

The purpose of the earring was for marking you and tying you do as his. But there was also another part to it. The earring symbolized that Dottore would always be apart of you no matter where you went. Also, if you were to take a hammer and smash the earring open, you’d find a shocking discovery with it.

A tracker. One that could be used to know your exact location at all times.

You vaguely remember walking down the halls of the palace with the doctor arm in arm. Fatui agents would stare when they notice what’s on your ear. The other missing earring?

You personally thought the both of you looked stupid sharing an earring. But as long as the doctor wasn’t angry, then you were happy.

The fatui agents have wondered where the Doctor’s other earring could be. But when they found it on your ear, it all made sense.

Dottore only wears one earring. The other however, is used to mark you.

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crowttore · 18 days ago

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"Dottore?"

He stirred beside you, the soft rustle of sheets followed by his warm body pressing against you.

"You're still awake?" his voice was hushed, laced with sleep. It was rare for him to fall asleep before you, a fact that made him shift his body, wrapping his arms around you as he always did when your nightmares struck. "I'm fine. I've just been thinking, you have all your segments to assist you and provide perspectives…" He turned you to face him, one hand brushing back your hair with the utmost care, playing with the strands while he searched your expression. You smiled, stretching to kiss the familiar crease of his brow.

"I've been wondering, would it be beneficial for me to have segments as well? It could ease our workload, and I'm sure there are plenty of ideas and outlooks I've long since discarded that might prove useful and-"

He quieted your rambling with a chaste kiss, cracked lips briefly meeting yours before he pulled back with an amused expression, stifling a small yawn by burying his face into your hair.

"If that is what you wish, I will do nothing to hinder it."

You knew that wording, a small huff leaving your lips before you spoke. Had there been something in his eyes just now, or was fatigue affecting you both?

"But you won't help me either?"

"Call me a selfish hypocrite, but I prefer keeping you whole"

Masterlist

#crow with a pen #il dottore x reader #dottore x reader #zandik x reader #il dottore x you #dottore x you #zandik x you #il dottore #dottore #zandik #genshin x reader #fatui x reader #crowship: dottcest

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arashrine · 2 months ago

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“Pervs.” — Dottore .

Pairing: Dottore x reader

Summary : Sore loser perverted Zandik—or dottore meeting, a shy, outcasted you

Trigger warnings - content warnings : harsh words, dubious consent, stalking, yandere, obsession, scar marking, dark theme, suggestive, uhm ooc maybe idk, I love zandik hihihi

Dottore hates everything and everyone ; The way people talk too loudly, almost in a buzzing motion in the akademiya always bothered him to no avail—always so trivial, what a waste of breath and space; when they could be turned into something far more.. useful

The way everybody would flap their lips, part it and fill in the room with such air pollution—Urgh. Annoying—.. especially when it come to group task, he had expected to be placed with yet another annoying students—

Until he noticed you're not speaking at all; noticing how you tried so hard to greet him normally—but couldn't stop shaking despite it all, eyes shifting everywhere but him. Your voice was almost nothing—.. nothing but a mere meek, a forced whisper that strangely enough make it way out of your throat.

..you're not so bad.

Surprisingly; You were easy to talk, easy to scare as well—but doesn't matter, everyone else is easy to scare too. You didn't winche, gave him a chance to be a human—to be zandik,not the outcast. To ramble about some heavy machinery, leyline, annoying students—.. and about everything, really.

And before you knew it; hanging out with Zandik is a daily thing. When you talk—it doesn't make Zandik scoff in annoyance or burden him, when you're quiet—it wasn't awkward and was still a peaceful moment.. despite him being a literal criminal. It was all going great; with people being scared of him—you won't be bullied, you don't have to suffer the way he did. You don't have to face the hard cold truth of the world—You're too soft for that, or so he insist it was.

He would sometimes go through your stuff—Your dorm, but it's alright! He's just worried :( you're so.. utterly gentle after all! What if you get injured—what if something bad happened to you!? He can't let it, can he? He would randomly show up, browse a bit, question a bit—and just nod! Nothing.. weird.

And before you know it—he placed some cameras on your room! Ooh.. but you're so fragile, they're just for.. uh.. what is it called? Security? Yes! Even though he's more dangerous than anybody else in the akademiya.. but you're HIS and ONLY friend.. it's all natural~or so he convinced.

He love how he can watch you wake up, how he can watch you shrug that pajamas off your body—revealing the skin beneath, ooh..! He seeks to scar them with the colour of his obsession—to scar them with the mark of his ownership:( you're his! Or did you forget? Dont worry.. he would always helps you remember ^_^

He's obsessed, and he realized it far too late; it wasn't until he sneaked into your room—steal some of your item as you make him a tea, you wouldn't notice if a panties of your went missing, right? You wouldn't notice if he sniffed your bed just to get a whiff of you—.. you surely won't mind if he just smell and take a teeny tinyyy.. sample of your perfume.. right? For what exactly..? Oh—.. don't worry, it was all for research! You would be.. okay, right :)? You're his best buddy after all..!

And you.. oh the dumb poor you :( who doesn't know any better—doesn't know the real threat, keeps him around for way too long...! But it's alright, you're his. After all <3

#genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #dottore x you #dottore smut #il dottore x reader #dottore x reader #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin impact smut

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anantaru · 10 months ago

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⚝ DAY 5 — APHRODISIACS

kinktober 2024. — masterlist | ao3

— including. — venti, dottore, albedo

— warnings. — fem! reader, aphrodisiacs, dub con, established relationship -> the both of you decide to take them, it's unsure in dottore's part if he took it or not, dry humping, fingering, messy and sweaty

⚝ — VENTI

within the bounds of your room, laughter fills the air as venti leisurely leans back, his mischievous smile gleaming in the dim light, "are you sure about this, baby?" he asks with slight concern in his eyes, twirling the tiny vial between his fingers.

yes, in fact, you've spoken about this before— giving the both of you a little kick and wow, his voice was turning you on so fucking much right now— you're this close to begging to be touched already, to be fucked or bend over the chair bareback, slow and dirty.

"well, i am, i thought you would be more adventurous venti," you tease back, your heart pounding in dire need to find out what that little liquid would do to you, your mind already coloring out a thousand of possible outcomes in your head.

he tilts his head and feigns a thought, considering your words before grinning wide.

"for you, i would try anything, heh, you know that," when after he said such strong declaration, he quickly pops up the glass and raises the vial to his lips, the sweet liquid disappearing in an instant as you quickly follow suit.

suddenly, the playful bard’s usual carefree nature intensifies— his touch lingering a little too long, his gaze becoming a little too heated, you're wondering if his cheeks could get any more red if he kept on like this, especially now with his head hidden between your jaw and collarbone, furiously lapping and sucking on your neck, hands grabbing at your stomach.

"feeling it yet?" you coo and moan when he bites the skin, his breath hot against your ear. fuck— this feels perfect, and you're resting on his shoulder with your back flush against the bed-frame when venti barely has to do much to get you riled up.

your body reacts to the closeness and your pussy begins to throb and ache to the point of pain, your thighs squeezing and rubbing together as venti presses his hand between the skin— getting his hand real good in there before the notable ache anchoring in the pit of your stomach develops quicker, his grunts getting messier when he notices how wet and warm you were down there.

your hands glide over his skin as he fiercely rubs your folds, his fingers featherlight but igniting sparks within every stroke, each push and circle of his digits flicking your little pearl as his other arm continues to hug you closer.

the world blurs and you find yourself under him, hair a mess, sweat covered and with venti's hand tugged deep inside your panties— your wetness by now making the fabric stick to his hand as the the obscene noises of your warm pussy were becoming all the more embarrassing and loud.

much to the bards liking.

⚝ — DOTTORE

"um, you’ve tested it before, right?" you curiously tilt your head as dottore hands you a vial, watching closely as you drink it— it's right then when you can see subtle happiness in his eyes.

but you don't question it, you just don't.

the liquid was warm as it slid down your throat, the thickness of it almost making you cough it out and almost instantly, a tingling sensation spreads through your muscles and veins.

"oh, don't be scared my love, i know its effects very well," dottore says with a dark chuckle, "but experiencing it firsthand is a different kind of fun."

dottore doesn’t wait before downing his own dose, his red eyes gleaming with an exciting, yet twisted intensity— not long after the air grows thick between you as the effects takes hold, there's a moment when the only sound you could discern was your own breathing, your skin basically set on fire.

his gloved fingers slowly trace your collarbone as he hums, methodical yet filled with an unfamiliar hunger— truly, he begins to grind himself against your thigh as he moves your hand to his bulge for you to stroke it.

his breath quickens when you slip a hand into his boxers and notice his cum smeared all over the fabric.

you realize with a jolt that the carefully composed facade he always wore was gradually crumbling, his control slipping away as he let out a sob of relief when you unbottoned his pants.

hm wait— or was he faking it? he couldn't, correct? you saw him take the dosage.

"you are mine to study, to explore," he utters cruely, his chosen syllables crisp and evenly spoken, clean words holding no trembles, "say it," his voice hoarse.

the warmth of his body eases you to push your legs apart for him to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you on his lap— it's hot when he takes the lead, when dottore gets possessive with you and it fills you with a deep sense of pride considering the second harbinger was your boyfriend,

he doesn't stop as your palm stroking him was now replaced by your naked folds smearing up and down his shaft— the pressure in your gut increasing.

your eyes glow of what you believe was love, "i'm yours to study, yours to explore," you whine, lazily rolling his tip against your clit as he squeezes your behind and leads your movements.

and for once, you don’t mind being an experiment. if it was for the man you have fallen in love with.

⚝ — ALBEDO

albedo examines the aphrodisiac in his hand with a quiet curiosity, his eyes focused as if it were a rare alchemical artifact.

"are you certain this will have the desired effect?" he asks in doubt, although his voice seemed calm, though you can feel the tension in the air— it's not like you didn't know him, albedo probably already prepared something that could immediately take away the effect of the strange liquid.

however, it's rare to see him so unsure, yet it also made your heart skip a beat when you think about how much you meant to him for the alchemist to be so careful, always touching you like you're made out of glass.

"only one way to find out," you reply as you both drink it up next to each other, soon after resting on the bed.

the change is slow, subtle— like the way albedo works with his alchemy, precise and conscious, yet suddenly something weird blooms in your chest, it pounds and runs wild in your veins, spreading like wildfire.

his normally composed features shift, his icy gaze darkening as he gets on top of you.

"everything okay?" the man rests his forehead against yours, his breathing quickened.

you reply and wrap your arms around his neck, "yeah, I'll always be okay with you by my side," and by now, you're panting hard by the time you've coaxed out your reply as he began to roam over the slopes of your bare frame.

his touch, gentle at first, as always, growing a bit tense— he’s careful, yes, methodical in everything he does. your boyfriend was great, wasn't he? but when you turn around for him to admire your bare ass, all perked up with your folds glistening and waiting, he grabs at your hips with an urgency behind it, a silent request for more.

his lips hover over your shoulder, "it’s fascinating… to feel so out of control," he whispers against your skin, and in that moment, all of his precision was lost, dropped and evaporated into sheer nothingness.

he laps at your shoulder as his tongue grew desperate, his touch fervent as the aphrodisiac pushes him past his usual restraint— and the man didn't even realize he's never actually pressed his cock inside, never felt your walls constrict around him like a compression, instead the both of you were rutting against each other like you've never been hornier before.

your ass was already covered with his cum and your folds all puffed up and neglected as he continues to slap his tip against your behind, making a mess of your flesh— and ugh, it’s too good, it feels so good, and the sweet little gasps he pulled from you made him grunt as his cock throbs and thickens against your swollen cunt.

#genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin Impact smut #genshin impact x reader #dottore x reader #dottore smut #venti x reader #venti smut #albedo x reader #albedo smut #kinktober #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #venti x you #dottore x you #albedo x you #cw aphrodisiacs

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affableramen · 9 months ago

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when you’re hurt

°˖✧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚✧˖° °˖✧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚✧˖° °˖✧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚✧˖° °˖✧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚✧˖°

ᡣ𐭩 incl. kazuha, tartaglia, wriothesley, neuvillette, pantalone, capitano, dottore, alhaitham, baizhu

ᡣ𐭩 hurt + comfort, established relationships

Masterlist

°˖✧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚✧˖° °˖✧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚✧˖° °˖✧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚✧˖° °˖✧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚✧˖°

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neuvillettesadmirer · 1 month ago

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Skincare Routine With Your Harbinger Bf!!>

Pairings : Childe , Pantalone , Dottore , Scaramouche x GN Reader

Warnings : Fluff , Lil Suggestive(?) , Mentions of Kisses;3 Not proofread!

| Synopsis — It's night now,and it's time for your nightly skin care routine! But wait...There's a catch;3 your boyfriend will be joining this time to do it together with you!!

Author's Note; Hello My room temperature milks:3..that is a very interesting nickname—Anyways! I hope you enjoyed this,got the inspo from my mom doing her daily routine~ I don't know much about skincare so forgive me if there are any mistakes-

|• Childe |•

— The bathroom is dimly lit with warm light from the chandelier above—the mirror was slightly fogged from the warm shower you just took a while ago. You’re leaned against the marble counter,dressed in one of Childe’s oversized shirts—something that you always wore at home,it made you feel at ease as a sense of security would engulf you within his scent,that you so much adored. You were softly humming to yourself as you gently pat your face dry,while you inhale the fragrance of fresh soap and his cologne that faintly lingers in the air—as if it were basically the air itself,it felt familiar but smelt foreign. As you hum away your made-up tune, applying multiple creams and serums onto your face with practiced gentleness—you didn't take note of the familiar presence walking and stopping behind you.

— Your dearest boyfriend,Childe—strolls in behind you, a towel slung around his neck, hair damp and tousled,stray drops of water were present on his toned abs—he looked straight out of a fashion magazine despite his casual wear. A pair of strong arms that were basked in beautiful scars,they stretched amongst his skin like brushstrokes—enveloped around your figure, swallowing your frame in his large shadow. He pulled you close as both of your heats were combined—you were startled at first,but soon that was replaced by a sense of tranquility as you softly smile at him from the reflection of the foggy mirror. “ Hey, you starting without me? ” He teases, leaning over your shoulder to peek at your products which were scattered around the counter. He smells clean and familiar, the kind of scent that makes your heart relax as you lean into his embrace with solace.

— Childe grins, nudging your side playfully, “ You know I only do this skincare stuff because you like it. But I won’t lie—my face has been baby soft lately. ” He points to his cheek dramatically—a small signal for you to touch and feel it,“ Feel it. Go on. ” He urges you, smiling so wide you swore his whole face was practically just his grin. You roll your eyes playfully—but nevertheless,oblige with his request. Your hand reaches up to brush against the surface skin of his cheek—his skin really was nice, and the pleased smirk that follows after tells you he was waiting for that exact reaction. “ Mhm,it really is soft. I suppose all those products were worth it. ” You giggle as you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek—resulting in an amused chuckle escaping from him.

— You guide Childe to sit down onto the counter—his back, sun-kissed and etched with the scars of countless legendary battles, faced the mirror, and his palms held onto the smooth surface of the counter to support him. His legs were placed apart slightly as to create a space where you could stand in-between him, so you could do your work on his face. Childe hums contentedly while you gently dab toner onto his face. He closes his eyes, “ You’re way too gentle, ” He murmurs, half-lulled to sleep by your soft carefulness, he so much cherishes with all of his heart. “ If I were doing this, it’d be over in five seconds and probably painful. ” Childe joked. You pause midway,hand still hovering over his face—and then, you flick his nose, earning a startled gasp from your beloved ginger. “ That’s why I’m in charge. ” You tease,a smirk of your own building up onto your lips as you resume.

— Next was serum. Childe winces slightly as you pat it in,his face could never ever get used to being smothered with countless skin products, since he never really used them in the past so it felt really unfamiliar,but when it was you who was applying..rest assured,he does not care at all about the weird feeling. “ Do we really need this many steps? ” He asked, probably for the seventh time now as you apply a cream over his face,“ Yep. ” You reply curtly, leaving a whiny Childe unanswered as you continued on with your little massaging. However,despite his whines—he still subtly leans into your touch anyway,how could he not? It was too addictive. You can tell he loves the attention more than anything.

— Eventually, it comes to his turn. Childe insists on applying your moisturizer, even though his hands are a bit clumsy and slightly rough on the feel—he still wants to repay the favour for his darling. Childe takes extra care, dragging the moment out under the guise of “ doing it right. ” which takes a little too long for it's own good,but hey—at least he can focus better on you. His calloused fingers brush gently over your soft skin—he moves his motions in a way where it's carefully measured,since he does not want to harm you even in the slightest way possible. “ You’re glowing already, ” he says, brushing your stray strands aside from your forehead while massaging your skin,the act cleared your vision as you look at him softly. “ But I guess a little product doesn’t hurt. ” Childe smiles with the same gaze as you—adoration and pure love.

— When you're both done, he pulls you into his lap with zero hesitation, arms around your waist and grip secure. “ We should make this a nightly thing, ” he mumbles against the soft skin of your neck. You hum approvingly at his comment, shifting a bit in his hold as you made yourself snug in his warmth, “ Combat’s good for the heart, but this? This is good for the soul. ” He ended his sentence with a soft kiss onto the side of your forehead,subtly squeezing you in a playfully way. And with your cheeks glowing (partly from product, partly from the way he’s looking at you like your his heart and soul), you nod slowly. The two of you relax in the company of one another, talking about stuff you did during the day—or listening to him ramble about one of his fights he had come across during one of his missions—all while you sipped a generous amount of herbal tea you had prepared before. He would drink from his own cup but he preferred to drink from yours,it just felt right for some reason to him—so if he happen to talk about the same topic for a bit too long,you can just keep the rim of the cup up to his lips with a smile. Childe will be confused at first,but gratefully take a sip from the cup and kiss you after.

•| Pantalone •|

— The rich scent of white tea and bergamot fills the luxurious bathroom. Crystal vials, gold-trimmed jars— and meticulously arranged products sit neatly across the marble counter—all curated by Pantalone himself,your beloved boyfriend,of course. You were sat on a velvet stool in your fluffy robe—Pantalone stands behind you, the sleeves of his silk robe rolled up to his forearms, his hands warm and precise,as he gently massages a serum into your cheeks. “ You never apply upward strokes, ” he scolds softly, bending down to your level as his lips brush against the shell of your ear. “ Do you want gravity to win this early? ” His tone is teasingly quiet next to your ear, although his eyes are sharp, always observing. He’s annoyingly perfect at this.

— Despite being one of the most powerful men in Teyvat,Pantalone is obsessive about nightly rituals—not just for himself, but for you too—it doesn't matter whether you do skincare or not, he's cleansing your face with multiple luxury products and you can't stop him. Pantalone claims your skin is a reflection of his standards, “ Of course I imported this from Fontaine, ” He hums, dabbing cool essence onto your temples,the smell was faintly minty as it relaxed your muscles, “ Only the best touches your skin. ” You giggle at his cheesy comment, nevertheless he was right—he never ever applied anything that caused even the slightest irritation onto your skin, as that would be considered a grave sin—he says. You silently pout as he smears on a ridiculous jelly mask you desperately did not need(he insisted you needed it though),you felt extremely sleepy with all of the massaging but goodness there's too many steps to his routine. From the mirror's reflection,Pantalone sees your reaction,he just smirks, admiring the sight like he’s painting a masterpiece. “ You always look most beautiful with a bit of effort ,” He says, brushing your hair back tenderly with care. “ Though... even bare-faced, you’re mine to adore. ” He smirks at your flustered state, placing a soft kiss onto the top of your head.

— It has been some minutes and your jelly mask was off—you glance at Pantalone’s reflection in the mirror, his eyes focused and sharp as ever—even while gracefully applying moisturizer to your skin like he’s performing a delicate surgery. But tonight, you’ve decided he doesn’t get to be the one to stay in control. You reach for a soft sheet mask from the tray—a cooling, rose-scented one he imported from Fontaine (and pretends not to hoard in drawers). He raises a brow when he hears you peel it open. “ That’s not for you darling, ” He says, lips curling to form a gentle smile—something he will only show to you. “ It’s far too floral for your usual preferences. ” He explains, placing the moisturiser onto the counter. Pantalone pauses when he hears your reply,“ It’s for you silly, ” You reply sweetly, getting up as you step in front of him, “ You always take care of me, but you never let me return the favor. ” Upon hearing your words,Pantalone starts to object—something about not needing such things, or how "my skin is already at optimal condition"—but you silence him with a finger to his soft lips and a cheeky grin.

“ Shhh. Sit, Regrator. ”

— That alone makes him pause, nostrils flaring with the tiniest flicker of amusement. He reluctantly obliges, sitting back against the plush ottoman, arms crossed like a prince enduring something beneath him—but you see the way his eyes soften as you press the chilled mask against his face after taking his glasses off. His long lashes flutter slightly at the contact,you smooth the sheet over his high cheekbones, down the bridge of his nose, and across his sharp jaw. “ Don’t wrinkle your forehead, ” you tease, tapping it, “ You’ll undo all that fancy serum. ” He glares playfully through the eye holes of the mask,unable to hold back a smirk. “ You do know that I could buy out every spa in Fontaine and still not receive treatment half as undignified as this.” he says, leaning back into the cushions of the chair, “ And yet... you’re letting me do it.” you reply back softly,gently smoothing the face mask to make sure there weren't any creases.

— Silence followed after your response. Then, a reluctant hum emitted from him. “ Only because it’s you. ” You smile at his response, leaning over towards him as you press a quick kiss to his lips(you cutely ignored the fact that now your lips were covered with the serum of the mask,but it was worth it)—his eyes widened at the soft feel of your lips against his and how bold you were—but, he's got to admit..he loves it when you're like this.

— Later, you both sit side by side in the glow of the vanity mirror, facemasks on, legs touching, embraced together in eachother's company. Pantalone takes your hand in his quietly,and threads his fingers through yours as he scrolls through skincare data on a fancy tablet, already planning your next regimen. He’ll never admit how much he loves these quiet nights—just you, him, and the soft glow of vanity lights. “ Next time, we should get matching robes, ” you murmur, leaning against his shoulder as the sleepiness you have been holding in finally gets to you, “ I already commissioned them. Silk. Embroidered with your initials. ”

...

— Of course he did. However,you were too quick to surrender to sleep so you didn't hear his answer—quietly letting go of your consciousness as you slip into a peaceful slumber in the presence of your dearest. Pantalone looks to your side as he noticed you suddenly went silent—only to see your sleeping form,a smile crawls it's way onto his lips as he presses a kiss to your forehead—even though,you still had the face mask on that won't stop him from showering you with his kisses and affection. Also,did l ever mention that Pantalone secretly keeps photos of you in the facemask because he thinks you look cute? Well now you know;3

•| Dottore •|

— It was late in the evening—in a sleek, dimly-lit Snezhnayan lab-residence. The hum of machinery is soft in the background, the scent of faint herbs and metal danced in the air. You’re seated at a counter in his private quarters, wrapped in a warm robe—while Dottore meticulously sets out jars and bottles—custom formulations, of course. “ Sit still. ” His voice is smooth, clinical with a hint of teasing affection—something you would never find in such a man like him but,it happened to be that you were the only person he shared even the smallest bit of affection with,a rare achievement you gained. Dottore, still in a partially unbuttoned lab coat, adjusts his gloves before taking them off entirely, “ You let your skin go dry again. Tsk. If I left you alone for a week, would you turn to dust? ” His voice was sharp, however there was this underlying sarcasm to his words. Dottore gently tilts your chin up,as his other hand dabs a cleanser onto a cotton pad—one he crafted himself, probably with suspiciously advanced tech. You couldn't help but chuckle at his gentle scolding—as he wipes away the day’s grime with surprising gentleness, his gaze flicks from your skin to your eyes, “ You’re lucky you’re cute. Otherwise I wouldn’t waste my genius on exfoliating your face. ” He huffs and throws the used cotton pads into the nearby dustbin and walks to one of his tables—that was littered with various items, you couldn't exactly make them out from the far distance,but you guessed it was just some skin products he made with that cursed intellect of his.

— Dottore hovered over the metal table,a hand on his chin as his ruby eyes ran over the items displayed—despite them being sheltered by the bird mask he wore,you could still make out his clinical gaze. After a little while,he returned to you with bottle in hand,you tilt your head to the side as you ask him,“ What's that? ” he places the bottle down, “ A Foam cleanser. ” he shortly replies. Dottore applies a gentle foam cleanser that smells faintly like mint and lab-grade roses—he massages it in, precise and efficient. He doesn’t rush,he doesn't need to—but there’s a strange reverence in his touch. “ Even your skin reacts differently when you're flustered, ” he murmurs, taking a note in his head,as it had come to his attention on the subtle heat blooming across your cheeks,caused by his intense focus on you. He continues slowly,it was a bit boring to admit—but seeing how your insane stoic boyfriend's clear concentration on massaging your skin,not to mention how ominously gentle his touch was...it was kinda fascinating to you.

— Now it was time for the toner. Dottore pats the toner on gently, using only his fingers this time, “ Normal skin, but prone to environmental stress huh.. ” He mutters, almost to himself, like you're a precious and fragile specimen—but his thumb brushes against your lower lip as he works, soft and lingering. You knew he was teasing you,in his own way—but you remained oblivious which made him amused..almost. “ Hmph. I’ll fix this too. But later. ” Dottore tells,his index finger tapping against the soft skin of your lips—you couldn't help but play back as you pretend to bite him,but he was fast to react and escaped your little trick of playing. If you were to squint a bit,you would notice the way the corner of his lips twitch up in enjoyment.

— Now, it's serum. He produces a small vial,that happens to be a very vivid colour of a mixture from blue and purple, “ I only used this on test subjects who didn’t scream, ” he says with a smirk,you could feel the corners of his eyes crinkling up as he noticed your eyes widen from his comment. “ Kidding. Mostly.” that happily did not ease the situation. As he applies It on,It tingles—cool, refreshing, unnervingly effective. You hum softly, leaning into his cold touch. Now it's finally for the last step—moisturizer. The moisturizer is thick, luxurious, and smells like sandalwood. Dottore scoops some onto his palm, warming it between his hands before applying it slowly to your cheeks, temples, and neck. His fingers trace along your jaw and neck longer than necessary,“ Soft, ” he says quietly,too quietly for it to be heard by you—he was looking strangely thoughtful keeping aside half his face was covered.

— Now,a little bonus for you; lip balm and forehead kiss. Dottore dabs on the lip balm—he insists it’s essential(totally not because he wants to feel your lips on his fingers)—and then leans down to press a surprisingly delicate kiss to your forehead. “ Done. Your skin is acceptable now. ” Then, with a satisfied sigh,he says, “ Now. My turn. You're helping—no gloves. ” You can practically see the smirk tugging at his lips.

— Dottore lounges on a velvet chaise in his private lab quarters, one of his many blue segments flickering on a monitor in the background. He's stripped of his coat— leaving him in a loose, black undershirt, hair slightly tousled, arms folded as he watches you approach with skin products,“ You really are going to touch me with those little hands of yours? ” His tone is teasing but a softness is kept within it as well—he lifts a brow, smirking as you roll your eyes, “ I could automate this in seconds, you know. ” You reply back. Before he could speak,you press your finger to his lips to silence him. “ But where’s the fun in that? ” you reply sweetly—Dottore huffs—mock offense. But he tilts his chin slightly anyway, surrendering himself to you as you delicately take off his mask, revealing his beautiful ruby eyes to you—looking up at you with an unreadable glint to them.

— You gently apply the cleanser to his face, your fingers tracing the strong lines of his jaw and cheekbones—he does take a lot of notice on how your fingers linger around certain aspects of his face a bit too long,but nevertheless he lets you do it(he secretly likes it). His eyes flutter half-shut, long lashes casting shadows under his eyes, “ I see. So this is how you tame monsters now. With warm water and patience. ” His tone is almost unnervingly calm,he tries to keep his composure intact, but the way he leans into your touch betrays him. You feel the tension melt from his shoulders. As he lazily hums,you dab some toner onto a cotton pad and swipe it along his face. His eyes open,and watches you the whole time, unsettlingly still, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “ You’re far too gentle with me, ” he murmurs, catching your attention—you tilt your head, “ Aren’t you afraid I’ll bite? ” his next words earned a tap from you onto his forehead, catching him off guard, “ Only if you misbehave. Which you definitely will.” you answer him back.

— As you apply a custom serum—one he crafted and swore was “mild enough for mortal skin”—he catches your wrist mid-movement, causing you to pause. His fingers are cool against your pulse point, “ You enjoy this, don’t you? ” He directly asks as he brings your hand to his lips, brushing a kiss across your knuckles—never in a million would you ever even catch this man doing these type of things,but here he is.. solemnly enjoying your presence while occasionally kissing spots of your skin. He continues, observing the way colour rushed to your cheeks, “ Handling me like I’m something precious. ” with a quieter tone,he admits, “ No one’s ever done that. ” You were only able to let out a chuckle as you bent down,“ Well,someone has now. ” you ended your sentence with a kiss pressed to the crown of his head. Dottore mumbles too quietly for you to hear,but loud enough for him, “ You touch me like I'm fragile. I find that...endearing. ”

— You massage the moisturizer into his skin with care, making small circular motions on his pale skin. His head rests lazily against your palm as he exhales—utterly relaxed now. You don’t even realize how close he’s gotten due to your still focus,he whispers, “ Finish this, and I’ll return the favor... in my own way. ” There’s heat in his voice now—low, smooth, dangerous. You scoff playfully, distancing yourself from him and pushed him straight to the velvet cushions, resulting in a rich and raw laugh from him. Now, it's time for your bonus; lip balm, because yes. You hold up the lip balm tube, pressing it slightly to squeeze some balm out of the tip, “ Don’t move.” He raises a brow, but lets you apply it with no complaints, “ You’re lucky I like you, ” He mutters under his breath,then—softly, eyes locked on yours,he says “ Touch me like this again, and I might start mistaking it for love. ”

•| Scaramouche •|

— You sat beside Scaramouche on the soft futon,a small bowl of lukewarm water and gentle cleanser resting on the low table. Scaramouche’s arms were crossed,as usual—his usual sharp gaze fixed somewhere distant, but today you’d decided he needed a break—from his worries, from the harsh world, even from himself. “ Come on, just let me do this, ” You said softly, holding up a warm and slightly damp cloth in your hands, “ You need to wash off the grime. It’s not just about looking good—it’s about feeling good. ” You say, your smile never leaving your lips as you patiently await his response. He scoffed lightly at your words—not too harsh because he knew you were telling the truth, and he didn’t pull away when you intertwined your fingers with his, squeezing it gently to give a bit of reassurance to him. “ I don’t need the luxury of fussing over my skin like some pampered noble. ” He spat, avoiding your eyes—despite the fact his hand was tightly wrapped around yours,like a vice grip. It hurt, yes—but it was Scaramouche,your beloved boyfriend,so you ignored the pain and comforted him instead.

— You smiled and dipped the cloth in the water to make it wet again, squeezing the excess water out of it and neatly placed it down—your free hand hovered over your other hand and his own. You placed your hand gently on top of his,causing him to recoil at the warmth from your skin—something he could never get used to, “ Maybe not. But even gods and puppets deserve a little care. Don't you think so? ” Before he could respond, you pressed the warm cloth against his cheek, resulting him to freeze against the heat of the towel. Scaramouche’s eyes narrowed,considering whether he should question you or himself—but there was no resistance. The warmth soothed the tension in his jaw, and a rare softness flickered in his gaze,“ Don’t get used to this, ” he muttered, voice low,eyes barely able to meets yours, “ It’s not like I’m going soft. ”

— You laughed quietly, brushing a stray lock of dark purple hair from his forehead, giving you full access to his slightly flushed face, “ I’m not asking for soft. Just… a little kindness. ” He shot you a mock glare but didn’t move away as you delicately wiped his face—in rare moments like these,only you and him,his shoulders relax..just a little. After you finished,you kept aside the cloth,and dried his face—you couldn't help but tease him for how cute he looked with the towel wrapped around his face—he could only grumble but, the blush on his face failed to stay neutral. You grab the moisturizer and tell him, “ Hold still, I’m going to apply this moisturizer so your skin doesn’t get dry and flaky. ” Scaramouche raises an eyebrow,quietly eyeing the bottle of cream in your hands,“ Are you sure I need this? I don’t exactly have time to coddle myself like some… flower. ” He tries his best to sound dismissive—keyword: tries—but you catch a hint of curiosity in his voice. You applied the moisturizer gently,your fingers tracing along his porcelain like skin with unexpected tenderness. For a moment, he seemed almost vulnerable—like a sharp blade laid down just long enough to rest. He was slightly stiff the whole time as you applied but,he never pulled away—so you knew he was getting a bit used to the new concept.

— Scaramouche was still a bit uneasy with this skincare thing—so he only allowed you to apply some moisturizer and that was the end of it. You were kind of saddened by him backing out from taking care of his skin—but hey,you were at least able to apply a cream on him, and that was progress of him opening up to you. You hum and went on with your own skincare—you washed your face, dried it, applied the necessary creams and serums onto your face. While you were busy putting a face mask on—you didn't take notice of how Scaramouche stared at you the whole time,he took note on how you applied the moisturizers, serums and creams. The way you patiently took care of your skin..made his stone heart soften—his eyes were locked onto your every move, quietly observing you as he stayed silent,as if he was just apart of the background—and you, were his main attention.

— After you noticed his obvious staring,he recoiled and looked away—trying to act as if he didn't watch you like a hawk the past few minutes. His eyes widen ever so slightly when he heard your soft giggles echoing through the room,he turned to you—puzzled,“ Do you want to try a facemask? I promise you,your skin will look much better afterwards. ” You hand him a packet,he scoffed as he read the scent—it was a floral scented facemask,“ Floral? Seriously? I'd rather cover my face with dirt than that. ” He crossed his arms and looked away,your only response was a chuckle and you scooted closer to him,“ Come on, even gods and puppets need to take care of their skin once in a while.” Scaramouche didn't respond,a few minutes passed—the silence wasn't uncomfortable or anything..more like comforting for him,he could feel your eyes on him and that ungodly patience of yours never left. Then he started with a soft sigh, “ Fine, but only because you’re doing it. Don’t let it get to your head. ” You nodded your head happily,and peeled the facemask open and guided his face to confront yours,his breath would hitch at the action, “ It's going to be a bit weird to feel,but you'll get used to it. ” Scaramouche hesitated,but compiled with it. You applied the mask onto his face—resulting for him to recoil at the cool touch. You smoothened the mask over his face,he would wince at the strong rose scent and freeze for a moment, slightly stiff but not pulling away—he would never pull away if it was you. Scaramouche was silent the whole time as you busied yourself with clearing any creases,“ Hmph. This is... surprisingly tolerable. Though, don’t think this means I’m going soft. Got it? ” You warmly laugh at his response, despite him wincing and urging you to get it over with—you will always notice the way his lips twitch in what almost looks like a smirk. You were now finished and, commented,“ Your skin looks better already. See? A little pampering doesn’t hurt. ” Scaramouche just rolled his eyes—he felt.. somewhat relaxed,not to mention he secretly does enjoy the moment, even if he won’t admit it out loud or never.

— While the facemasks did their thing—you had beforehand prepared some sweet and savoury snacks for the two of you to nibble on. As you grabbed a biscuit—which was a creamy yellow and the drawing of a sakura petal was present in the middle of the snack. You turned to him,“ Here. ” You gestured for him to try it as you held it up, Scaramouche would side eye you and then the biscuit—he had a deep seated aversion to sweet things... He was reluctant to tasting it, but he anyways leaned in and took a bite because..it was you who was offering it,he would never say no. You smiled,“ You really spoil me, ” he said, voice teasing, but his usual edge was gone. You chuckled, cupping his face softly to not move the wet mask,his eyes widened at your action,“ Only the ones I care about, ” you whispered,a smile tugging at your lips as you adored his new look—while a small blush formed on his cheeks. Scaramouche looked at you, something unreadable in his eyes—maybe gratitude, maybe a flicker of affection,maybe..happiness?—and with a slight smirk, he added, “ Maybe this isn’t so bad after all. ” You grinned. “ Told you.”

Deep down.. Scaramouche really appreciates and cherishes your attention, even if he grumbles about it. Maybe..just maybe—he might accompany you during your nightly routines now.

#genshin scenarios #genshin men #fatui harbingers #fatui x reader #genshin x reader #gn reader #genshin impact #childe #pantalone #dottore #scaramouche #childe x reader #childe x you #pantalone x reader #pantalone x you #dottore x reader #dottore x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you

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