funkybatics

[funkybatics]

I think Reca would have miniature versions of all his stuff for assistant director

[funkybatics]

Don’t know if I’ve talked about this before but I think Reca’s physically a lot stronger than he looks

Like the man has a grabable waist and noodle arms but if he gets you in a hug there’s no way you’re making it out

The type to randomly pick you up in his arms and not let go

[funkybatics]

hoc non est experimentum!

synopsis: Dottore’s segments are tired of waiting to take you for themselves and have decided to finally take matters into their own hands (with some reluctant sharing).

includes: four dottore segments w/ fem! reader

notes: You get railed by four of Dottore’s segments at once, that’s it, that’s the fic. Established relationship, they fight over you a bit, reader uses they/them pronouns, gangbang (Sigma, Beta, Alpha, Delta - see segments guide), oral (reader giving), handjob, titfuck, vaginal sex, one (1) gentle pussy slap, rough and soft sex, praise, creampie, consensual drugging (aphrodisiac), brief mention of consensual somnophilia, bit of dirty talk(?), aftercare, cuddle pile with the segments at the end <3. Minors DNI.

For as research-driven as Dottore’s segments appeared to be, they had their own desires and downtime they wished for - mainly due to a certain someone they all thought of dearly. That person was none other than you, their beloved, whom they all shared.

To them, you boasted the utmost loveliness - soft lips that spilled the sweetest of words and praises, gentle touches and caresses that soothed them - and of course, your alluring body that they couldn’t keep their hands off. For a long time, the segments had settled with regular touches like simple cuddling, hand holding, and even some thigh squeezing here and there, but needless to say, they desired something a lot more… heated than mere soft touches. But much to their dismay, you were… painfully oblivious to their advances.

It was indeed a bit frustrating despite their advances being rather straightforward, but you always assumed they were being extra touchy and clingy. Well, all of them save for Omega had this problem - the segments cursed that lucky bastard when he wasn’t around, they wanted their face between your legs too.

… Which was why they were at their wits’ end and had collectively come up with a sure-fire plan to fuck you.

—

When four segments appeared in your room together unannounced, without any arguments following them, you already knew something was up. They weren’t often seen together, except whenever they happened to collaborate on projects, but you had heard of no such thing lately.

“Beloved, we have something we would like you to try for us,” Sigma began with an even wider smile than normal, something you always took note of.

“Well… if all four of you feel the need to come to ask me, it must be quite important,” you replied, very much interested in what could warrant such urgency, not to mention the varying expressions across the segments - Sigma’s eager smile, Beta holding off his impatience, Alpha hiding his nervousness by acting aloof, and Delta’s continued seriousness, although his eyes were boring into you.

“See,” Sigma hummed, producing a vial from his pocket, “We’ve recently created this new… liquid. Of course, we’re interested in observing the effects it has on someone.” Although you understood the intent, you were confused as to why he couldn’t just test it on someone else, but Beta answered your question before you could say anything.

“You’re the only test subject we can test such a drug on,” his fingers drummed against the nightstand quickly, as if he was aching to pour whatever that strange liquid was down your throat already. Still, this only left you with more questions.

“What kind of liquid is this exactly?”

“An aphrodisiac,” Delta said bluntly.

An aphrodisiac, you thought. Aphrodisiacs… ah yes, you read about those in books sometimes. Aphrodisiacs… used to stimulate sexual desire. Aphrodisiacs… used to have sex.

… Wait. To have sex?! Immediately, you started sputtering and backing up.

“A-Are you trying to say what I t-think you are?! And wait, are aphrodisiacs even real? I thought they were fake!”

“Finally, you got it through that thick skull of yours,” Alpha rolled his eyes. “I was beginning to wonder if you were simply that dense or doing it on purpose. Seems as though it was the former.” Classic Alpha - his words always had some bark to them, although there was practically no bite as you always got your way.

“I mean…!! I just didn’t know all of you would be interested in me that kind of way-”

“Oh darling,” Sigma purred. “You’re too sweet for your own good. That won’t end well for you if you’re with us,” the segment slyly slid his hand down your thigh, making you gasp. You were already starting to have a tingly feeling between your legs, your mind racing with the possible scenarios they would put you in. Could you even survive taking four of them at once? Logically your mind said no, but your body was saying yes. Even if you couldn’t walk for a few days, it was a hell yes.

“Prime surely knows you’ve been fooling around with Omega, doesn’t he? Don’t I deserve some attention too?” Beta was the next to make his advance, hand tracing the collar of your neck, itching to sink his teeth into your skin. Your body immediately warmed at being called out for… ahem… certain acts with the older segment.

“He’s right. You were the one who said you’d give us all equal treatment. Or are you going back on your word now?” Delta added on gruffly, already knowing what your answer would be from when you very obviously squeezed your legs together.

“No, I would never…” You quickly rushed your words, heart racing from all of the segments so close to you, with not-so-pure intentions.

“At least try to relax,” it was Alpha who took some pity at your deer-in-headlights look. “The aphrodisiac should greatly increase your pleasure as well.” The other segments quickly peppered your exposed skin with kisses in an effort to make you comfortable as well.

“I’m okay, I was just… caught off-guard by this. But I want you all too… if you’ll have me,” you replied shyly, to which all of the men perked up. “Besides, I’m kind of interested to see if you actually managed to concoct a legitimate aphrodisiac.”

“Good… good. Willing test subjects are always the best to work with,” Sigma placed a kiss on your forehead before suddenly you were being maneuvered onto the middle of the bed. “Now before we test the aphrodisiac, let’s see that pretty body of yours.”

Before you could even utter a response, your clothes were being tugged off very quickly - but that was probably because there were four other people undressing you. In no time, you were nude save for your underwear, the cold air sweeping against you for a moment, but the segments’ warm bodies prevented you from shivering. All of them had their eyes trained on you - they had seen you nude before, having to attend to you sometimes, but it was obviously not in a situation like this, where you were laid bare and needy for them. Speaking of neediness…

Delta, whose chest was pressed into your back, pried your legs open despite your gasps and protests because you already knew your pussy was becoming an embarrassing, leaking sight. You whined as your damp underwear was on display for them all to stare at shamelessly, Alpha and Beta holding down one of your legs while Delta grabbed your arms, and Sigma let out a content sigh that was shared between all of them.

"So wet, and we've barely even touched you." Something clicked in the segment's mind as he held himself back from touching you just yet. "I think I know why. You're excited by the idea of being fucked by all of us at once, aren't you?"

“Of course they are,” Alpha scoffed. “They can never hold themselves back once they want something.”

“Give it to them already,” Beta demanded, who had already been palming and restraining himself, “before I fuck them right now.”

“Have some patience,” Alpha rolled his eyes. “We’ve barely just begun.” Normally Beta would have shot the segment an indignant look considering Alpha’s own lack of patience, but he was too needy for you to bother.

“If you’re out of breath just from this, I worry about how you’ll be able to take all of us,” Sigma teased. “But I know you will. You must be aching for our cocks, aren’t you, sweet thing? Burning for us to fill you up like the obedient toy you are?” Your throat had gone dry from how effortlessly filthy Sigma had become. Usually, his tone and words were always so sweet to you, but now he spewed such dirty things with that same gentle voice.

“Answer him,” Delta reached to give your breast a firm squeeze, which quickly elicited a response from you. Alpha and Beta quickly followed the older segment’s action, kneading the soft flesh with fascination.

“Y-Yes! I’ll be good!” You swiftly nodded your head to which Sigma chuckled.

“Good.” He then popped open the vial and gave it a little shake, watching the liquid swirl around. “Now open,” he grasped your chin and held the vial above your mouth, humming in satisfaction as you swallowed the aphrodisiac without a second thought (which, surprisingly tasted quite nice.) When a little bit dribbled down your chin, he quickly thumbed the excess and popped his finger in your mouth.

“Ah ah, now don’t you waste it. A lot of work went into this.” You could only blink at him, mouth ajar as you suddenly became very aware of the aching between your legs and your rising body temperature.

“It seems the aphrodisiac is already taking effect,” Alpha observed, tugging at your sensitive nipple. “Perhaps because you were already aroused?” Ever the scholar, he still questioned your reactions (or maybe it was a way to distract himself from the tightening in his pants.) But when he looked at Beta, the other segment was already slobbering on your breast, sharp teeth occasionally grazing your nipple to which you whimpered.

“You aren’t even trying to hide your true intentions…” Alpha sighed. After all, it wasn’t really an experiment (this time at least) but more so to satisfy the aching between their legs in the way they desired rather than resorting to their hands all the time. (There was a reason why they didn’t have a trusty clipboard…)

“Don’t act like you’re any better than us,” Beta scoffed, briefly taking a break from sucking on your tit. “You were more jealous of Prime than any of us.” Alpha only clicked his tongue in response before giving your other boob similar treatment as what Beta was doing. Delta, on the other hand, was busy kissing you and hardly giving you any time to breathe, making the other sensations all too powerful. You barely noticed his hiss when you unconsciously grinded your ass against his bulge.

Sigma watched your once cheery expression become half-lidded and lewd, before reaching for the band of your underwear. Even though your mind had gone elsewhere at his point, your breath still hitched at the feeling. Along with all the touching and the aphrodisiac, your underwear was so wet it was clinging to your cunt almost uncomfortably. Thankfully, the segment pulled it off and discarded it along with the rest of your clothing, haphazardly scattered on the floor. Instantly, the other segments paused whatever they were doing to gaze at your hole, entranced by your pretty pussy. 

You let out a moan when Sigma’s finger gently rubbed your opening, before slipping a finger in which you squealed at. Throwing your head back, you nearly kicked him were it not for the other's firm grip on your thighs.

“An exquisite reaction,” Sigma praised. “So sensitive… I wonder, is it because of the aphrodisiac, or has Prime been neglecting you lately?” The segment cooed before curling his finger inside of you, making your back arch. At your adorable reactions, the other segments simply couldn’t wait either. It wasn’t long before you felt another two fingers push inside you - but it wasn’t Sigma this time. Delta had quietly watched your pussy gradually become wetter, having the perfect view from behind you, and now he wanted to hear all the squelching your hole would make around his fingers. However, it seemed that Sigma had something to say about sharing your cunt with the others.

“Only I get to fuck their pussy today.” This bold statement automatically had the other three turning on him.

“Excuse me? And how did you decide that? I am going to taste them too,” Beta immediately rebuked Sigma’s statement.

“I’m older than all of you. Why would I not get to fuck them first?”

“Older? On what basis?” Alpha grumbled. “Sure, you may be closer to Prime’s age, but technically speaking, I’ve been around longer than any of you.”

“Well, it was me who came up with the idea of an aphrodisiac in the first place. I should get to go first then,” Beta piped in.

“And you would not have known that if I did not happen to mention their reading collection to you,” Delta cut in as well.

… They were really fighting right now despite being three fingers deep inside your cunt. That was simply wonderful (but expected to be honest). Normally you’d find it amusing but you just really wanted to come already.

“Stop fighting. You can have your turn next time,” you whined, wriggling around in their embrace, trying to get some pleasure from their fingers. 

“Oh? Already thinking about next time, are you?” Sigma chuckled before Beta squeezed your thigh.

“I told you that they wanted this. I bet [Name] has been thinking about this more than we thought,” Beta taunted you. “Dirty thing.”

“Regardless… I suppose I can let this one time pass,” Alpha huffed, (though he was actually pretty accustomed to being overshadowed by his older selves), and Delta grunted in agreement - although he was still going to finger fuck you. 

Now that that little spat was over, the two segments began moving their fingers inside you again, not exactly in unison though. Sigma was going slowly while Delta was plunging his in and out of you. The sensation was making your head reel and you could hardly notice the other two segments were already unbuttoning their pants. Tears sprung to your eyes as you dug your nails hard into someone’s arm - you couldn’t focus on who - that was sure to leave marks. 

Together, the differentiating paces successfully drove you crazy and you quickly came, juices running down their fingers. The sudden burst of pleasure, heightened by the aphrodisiac had you gasping and shaking, although there wasn’t much of that considering all four of them had a firm grip on you. You tried to catch your breath when a finger wiped the corner of your eye.

“Crying already? But hardly anything has happened yet,” Alpha observed.

“Leave them. It shows that the aphrodisiac is working. Not just one of your fantasies now, is it?” Delta teased you as he began to lay you on your back instead of his chest. You blinked as he rested your head on a pillow, wondering what was happening before you were suddenly very aware his cock was close to you, his underwear being the only barrier. Blinking again, you saw that the others were in a similar position, eager to come too.

“As much as I would like to play with you for a while longer, it seems like no one is willing to wait that long. Truly a shame,” Sigma sighed while discarding his pants as well. “But there’s always next time, right dear? Regardless, I trust you know what comes next.” 

You tried to formulate a response but you found your throat had gone dry at the fact that this was really about to happen.

“Don’t get nervous on me now. I know full well you can take it,” Beta was the first to tug his cock out, delighting in how you inhaled at the sight.

“I- I… um- mmph!” Before you could say anything, Beta’s hand rested on top of your head, the tip of his cock briefly nuzzling your cheek, before he properly parted your lips and thrusted into your mouth roughly.

“I thought I said not to be so rough to them at first?” Sigma sighed at his fellow segment’s action, before lining himself up with your entrance and pushing in. The sensation made you moan around Beta, in turn causing him to thrust again. Though he seemed impatient, the truth was he was still restraining himself - his pace would have been harsher if he didn’t feel a bit worried for you.

Refusing to wait around, Alpha and Delta grabbed your hands and wrapped them around their hardened cocks as well, a sign for you to start stroking them unless you wanted them to do it for you. You were quickly swept into their pace, both of your hands being occupied in no time. You clumsily stroked them, seeing as it was hard to focus while being fucked, but the two segments seemed as though they were more than enjoying it. Perhaps they’ve been pent up for too long.

Alpha had already begun biting his tongue to hide his needy pants, his previous calm and collected words quickly dissipating. If only you weren’t being fucked by three other people, you’d have teased him for his whininess. However, the segment also used that to his advantage, suddenly squeezing your breast and rubbing the head of his cock against your nipple. The sensation against your sensitive bump had your back arching and legs flailing, although they were securely hooked around Sigma’s shoulders.

You could already feel Alpha’s pre-cum leaking onto your chest - it was already impressive he hadn’t come yet, considering what Dottore was like back when he was a student, coming hard after some light arousal (and then getting tired, you had to ride his face to get yourself off.)

The segment eyed your breasts with fluttering eyes and a heaving chest, seemingly trying to consider what to do next in his hazy mind, before grabbing your other breast and squishing them together with haste. In no time, he bucked his hips closer, slipping his aching cock between the soft flesh. You were warm - even more so due to the aphrodisiac - and your tits enveloped his cock better than he could have ever dreamed of. Not bothering to retain his composure, Alpha continued to clumsily yet quickly fuck your boobs, squeezing and pulling at them at the same time. None of the others had bothered to comment on it, considering they were all more interested in fucking the other parts of your body.

Meanwhile, Delta’s large hand was wrapped around yours on his cock, moving it up and down for you, unsatisfied with your pace. It was fast enough that you were sure your arm was going to be aching for a day, but you were also sure that applied to your whole body in general.

Still, this was all so much to take in, having both your pussy and mouth fucked at the same time at a bruising pace had your eyes half-lidded and struggling to keep up with the segments, seemingly built with endless energy, but a particularly harsh thrust from Sigma had you nearly gagging on Beta’s cock, to which the segment tightened his grip on your head.

“I thought you said I was being too rough?” Beta clicked his tongue at Sigma’s hypocrisy, and the older one merely smiled.

“I simply want to make sure they’re awake to feel my cock properly. Don’t you feel the same?”

“It doesn’t matter. They’d be happy as long as they’re being fucked. You wouldn’t protest at all, would you? Letting yourself be used even when you’re not conscious?” Delta hissed, and Sigma let out a sigh as you helplessly tightened around his own cock, clearly enjoying the filthy words.

“Ah, now there’s a grand idea. Darling, I’d be happy to discuss the possibility of nighttime visits, if you like it so much. It would be lovely to see you wake up to being filled,” Sigma chuckled, and you couldn’t even respond to him since your mouth was full of Beta’s cock. 

While the two older segments were busy teasing you, you could also feel that Alpha was close to coming. His pace had gone sloppy and he had lost his grip on your tits, instead just humping them pathetically. Beta was in a similar state, speeding up his thrusts in a way you knew he was about to come as well, and Delta was wordlessly getting as much pleasure as he could out of your abused hand. You could feel your own orgasm building up too, especially when Sigma moved to rub your clit. With a squeeze of your thighs, he relentlessly pumped himself inside you without stopping.

“Now,” he stated, “I’m going to fill you up, and you’re going to come on my cock. Understand?” You blinked at him through pleading teary eyes, and he laughed. “Good. Perfect, my love.”

Only a few seconds after, Alpha was the first one to let go, coming all over your tits with a low hiss, quietened by biting his bleeding lip. It spurted all over your chest, running down the hill of your boobs onto your stomach, and the segment was left panting, lazily rubbing his softening cock against your soft skin. The liquid only served to make you more aroused, squeezing your legs around Sigma’s neck as a plea to let you come already. In response, as a way of saying ‘have patience,’ Sigma flicked his hand against your cunt, finger catching your clit, and the light pain with pleasure nearly had you choking again.

As if that was the trigger for Beta, he too suddenly pulled out of your mouth, and before you could question what he was doing, came on your face, globs of cum streaking down your cheek along with your tears, some dripping down your chin and landing on your chest. You hazily blinked at the white liquid coating your body, before some more was added.

Without wasting a second, Delta let go of your hand and popped his cock in your briefly empty mouth before your poor throat could even have a chance to recover. It only took one or two thrusts for him to empty himself inside your mouth, doing so with a groan of pleasure, keeping your head locked in place, and only pulling out once he was sure you had swallowed every bit of his cum. The last few minutes left you gasping and moaning, your noises now clear for all in the room to hear - including the cries that left your lips and the mashing of your hole.

“P-Please, I’m- ah, so, so, close-” Your words had lost coherent structure at this point, trying your best to convey what you really needed.

“I know. I can feel you,” Sigma dragged himself in and out of you, making sure you felt everything. “You’ve been so good to us. Of course you can come.” Along with his ramming, he quickly circled your clit, until finally, finally, you came hard, rolling your head back and an unrecognizable squeal tore from your throat. The feeling of you spasming around his cock had Sigma digging his hands into your soft thighs as he filled you to the brim, only pulling out after a few moments. Gently, he pushed his fingers near your sore pussy, humming as you made a soft noise of protest, just to make sure none of his cum escaped your oozing pussy. 

As you lay there used and twitching, your cunt stuffed full of cum, and your face and chest painted with it, the segments took a moment to admire how pretty you looked like that. Beta stroked your head, as if apologizing for his fierce grip, although he made sure to gather up his cum and press it to your lips, smiling widely as you obediently parted his lips for him to suck on his fingers. 

“Looks like the aphrodisiac isn’t as strong as we anticipated. What a pity.” Alpha had tried to recollect himself after that embarrassing display of neediness as if he wasn’t also tired from coming.

“Is it really? I’d say it was quite powerful. After all, they took all four of us with hardly any complaints. It served us both well.” Sigma chuckled as he gently lowered your legs from his shoulders onto the bed, pressing soft kisses to your thigh as he did so.

“It still could use some tweaking, however,” Delta stated. “I believe it hasn’t nearly reached its potential.” The segment had moved away to begin drawing a bath to clean you up.

“Regardless, you did exceptionally well,” Beta praised you with his sharp-toothed grin, and you only let out a soft noise of affirmation as you were lifted up to be cleaned.

—

The segments cleaned you up a few minutes after - you weren’t sure if your bathtub would fit all five of you but it did somehow. Surprisingly they were pretty cooperative, for the most part at least. Afterward, they changed your sheets and dressed you in some comfortable clothes.

“Here,” before you could react, some kind of syrup was being poured into your mouth. “For your throat,” Alpha said because a certain someone couldn’t hold back, although he didn’t say that part out loud. Sigma pulled your blankets up and tucked you in as well.

“What, are you all leaving?” You looked at them with sad eyes.

“We have been away from work for quite a while, love.” You pouted at his response as you tugged at his arm.

“You can’t do that. You have to stay at least until I fall asleep, all of you,” you stressed the ‘all’, reaching to grab Delta’s hand as well.

“[Name]-”

“Nope! I’m not listening!” You then pulled Alpha, who was the easiest to push around, into the bed with you.

And so, you now had the four segments cuddling with you, each of them touching your body in some way. Sigma and Delta were snuggled closely on each of your sides, but Alpha and Beta were left in the more uncomfortable positions, awkwardly laying on top of you and face cuddled into your chest. There were some grumbles from them but you quickly shushed them up. More importantly, you felt very warm and content with all of them holding you.

You had a feeling the four segments weren’t leaving you anytime soon, either.

[funkybatics]

ITS PEAM!!!!!!

prime dottore/zandik toying with u infront of his segments :3 like as a way to say "this is mine"

When Dottore brought you into the main lab where a few segments were working and sat you on the examination table, his expression unreadable, you didn't think too much of it - just a another checkup. Naturally, the other's attentions were grabbed by the presence of Prime - and you of course, their dearest beloved - whose... shirt was being calmly unbuttoned by the original. You hardly had time to react before the cold air hit your chest and a firm hand held your chin steady, making you face the others.

“Have you all become so careless you forget to separate your thoughts from all of ours? Have you all become so distracted you can't keep your thoughts to yourself?” His segments fighting inside of his mind was nothing unusual, but it could be easily remedied by a stern order. However, it was a different story when occasionally he could hear his segments unintentionally thirsting for you out of nowhere. Unfortunately for some of the segments, they were only now finding out that they let some of their thoughts slip through the cracks and suddenly they very much understood what this demonstration was supposed to mean.

In the midst of your protest, Dottore pushed a finger into your clothed cunt, the sensation just barely giving you some pleasure but not enough as the fabric prevented him from going all the way. The segments appeared to be staring at their respective stations and notes, but they inhaled sharply at the sight of your underwear dampening due to your arousal. You couldn't hold back your gasp, and covered your face in embarassment as he then pulled off your underwear all together.

“Oh no, don’t do that,” Dottore quickly pulled your hands away from your mouth. “Let them hear,” he demanded. “Maybe the real thing will help them stop imagining about silly replicas.” He continued to finger fuck you at a brutal pace, lewd squelching accompanied by your juices dripping onto the examination table. Your breathy moans were amplified by how silent the lab was, no one else daring to move, only observing from the corner of their eyes how well your pussy took three of Prime’s fingers. They wondered how long it would take them to make your hole a gaping mess too, seeing as you came all too quickly.

“One of you make sure to clean up this mess,” Dottore clicked his tongue as he scooped your twitching body into his arms, taking you elsewhere no doubt to fuck you properly. “Though I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

Alpha, the one most unable to control his neediness, scurried out of the room after a few seconds having come untouched already. Beta couldn’t even laugh at him as he had to grit his own teeth to ignore the throbbing between his legs. The others were in a similar frenzy. Meanwhile, Omega hadn’t reacted at all during the whole time, being more than able to control himself although the tightening in his pants told a different story. Still, he was more interested in your essence that remained on the metal table.

You wouldn’t mind if he had a taste, would you?

[funkybatics]

In Black & White. Reca.

Summary: After being hit with the harsh reality of just how people saw you all you really wanted to do was sit down, cuddle up, and watch a movie, but Reca always did like doing things his way.

Author's note: Before more modernized projectors became a thing (or someone simply messed with theirs) they had to use two projectors to play a full film because of the amount of tape they would be able to play in one sitting.

The constant click, click, click of a projector turned into a whirring hum, filling the otherwise strangely quiet space with its effort to turn the reel. It sat comfortably, secure, and most importantly threaded through the gate to allow the scene before you to play; at first it started with a few flickers and a blurry image before slowly becoming crystal clear all for the sake of sharing the image of a couple sitting together in a park.

Clearly, the reel had just been changed.

You didn't need anyone to tell you that, not when you could pick up on the occasional rustle behind you as Reca carried the last reel between his hands as delicately as he could bring himself to when Reca was running around. A tag was slapped onto it with messy handwriting reading out the last movie he must have been playing before, leaving you to just barely make out the words with narrowed eyes before they were carried away.

“And this goes over here,” he muttered to himself as Reca went to place the silver reel where it belonged. For a moment the projector almost seemed to shut off as he walked in front of it only for the image you had been intensely staring at for the past few minutes to be restored a second later in black and white. In comparison, the bright red curtains framing the screen seemed to pop out, begging to be seen even when your eyes tore away from it.

With a sigh you tilt your head back slightly to catch the sight of Reca's trench coat fluttering behind him as he runs around the makeshift theater; he was moving so fast you couldn't even see the embroidered details on the fabric. “Are you going to sit down and join me,” you asked. “Because if you keep going like this, you'll miss something.”

“Miss something?” Reca scoffed. “Now that isn't possible.”

A single long stride was all it took before Reca's hand fell to your shoulder, the comforting feeling of warmth you would normally expect from another simply nonexistent as his touch lingered. Just like any other memetic entity he lacked the distinct heat you would feel from anyone who had blood pumping away under their skin, leaving you with nothing more than a chill down your spine as Reca's lips lingered by your ear. His voice filled your mind, almost drowning out the thoughts that had been weighing you down all day as each word he uttered matched the script the actor before you was reciting. And that was all without the aid of subtitles.

“See?” He asked after a moment had passed, his hand squeezing your arm before it fell away. Somehow, that, too, left you hyper aware of Reca's actions as he hovered behind the seat you were currently occupying. “I could recite this entire script by heart, sweetness. Meaning: I can't miss a thing.”

His confidence truly could never be shattered, and it left you grumbling to yourself and calling Reca a showoff before pushing him back to continuing with his task with a shove. “You memokeepers and your near perfect memories.”

Quickly, before he lost the chance, Reca pressed a kiss to your cheek, making sure to make an obnoxiously loud mwah sound with it.

Your eyes crinkled at the feeling as a smile came to your face, but it fell away just as quickly when Reca pulled away to go back to setting up the second projector.

Reca always did stress the importance of authenticity, from outsourcing as many props he could from antique malls or elsewhere to getting as genuine of a reaction he could from any actor he was working with. This went all the way to using the same format a movie was originally premiered no matter the occasional flickers of static you were catching. They were simply part of the charm. At least, that's what always Reca says.

He exuded love for his craft, letting it bleed into him to the point that nothing else could distract Reca when he got going. It left you with nothing to do but groan and look down at the Assistant Director now that your phone was safely tucked away in your back pocket. She was currently occupying the seat next to yours, her little webbed feet comfortably sinking into the plush cushions below her. “Can you believe him? He's the one that suggested watching this, and yet-”

She simply croaked.

And you couldn't understand her at all. Still… “I'm glad you agree with me.”

Her little webbed foot reached out to smack your finger, stopping you from fixing her beret back in place as the metal met your extended digit, causing you to cry out a small ouch.

Briefly, you swore you could hear Reca snickering to himself, most likely because he actually heard what the Assistant Director said. “She doesn't. Far from it, in fact, but I can appreciate the rigor of your attempt to get her to side with you.”

“Thanks.”

“You are so very welcome!”

Sighing to yourself, you sank further in your chair, letting the soft velvet material swallow you into its embrace. Reca's assurances of “one more minute” were commonplace when he was enjoying himself, and at this point, you knew it was just easier to let him have his fun.

It was only when you heard something be slotted into place and Reca assuring himself that “yes, that works” did he join you, taking up the seat to your left with crossed legs and a hand taking your own. Your intertwined hands laid on the arm rest between you both, blocking Reca off from sprawling himself over your lap like he would usually try to whenever he could. Though, given the spark in his eye, you could already tell he was considering it anyway. Back problems be damned.

“Now, settle in and be prepared to be awed.”

At his insistence, you turned your eyes away from his wild gesturing and looked back over at the screen.

It was a simple scene, clearly fit for the beginning of a film still trying to lay out its setting for the viewer.

The backdrop of the park changed to a bustling street full of people as the two main characters, both man and woman, tried their best to wade through the tide of the crowd.

It was only a second later as the wide cityscape was pictured, spreading far and wide across the screen with buildings sweeping by, did the title card finally make its appearance in large, loopy writing.

The movie played on as your grip on Reca’s hand got tighter and tighter.

Eagerly, he told you every little detail about the film, adding in details about the characters that Reca promises won't spoil the story, problems during production he learned secondhand, what props were so infamous they were stored away for safekeeping, and anything else that seemed to randomly come to his mind. Truly, he would be amazing in movie trivia. You could even picture him in your mind's eye, wowing everyone with his collective of fun facts and gaining the ire of those aiming to win because of course he would. That's just how your Reca is.

Your Reca….

Your grip on his hand got tighter to the point you could feel the creases of his gloves digging into your skin.

“And you see that actor there? She was originally planning to turn down her role before being convinced otherwise by the director. That truly goes to show you that only the greatest directors, such as I,” Reca's free hand fell to his chest, “know exactly what we're doing.”

“That's great, Reca.” You mumbled. Your voice faded off until it was barely audible. You could barely manage to get yourself to sound louder than a sigh from the moment you opened your mouth, but you still managed to push the assurance you were listening to him out.

His eyes fell on you, those red play buttons you usually loved to make fun of staring you down only for a harsh yell of “cut” to break through the air.

Your head immediately whipped around to Reca at his sudden exclamation, only for you to catch the sight of his fingers snapping together to pause the movie. The projector stilled on a single frame right as your jaw started to lock. Teeth grinding together. You only stopped when a dull ache started to form, causing your mouth to open in an attempt to say anything. Something.

“Couldn't you have just done that earlier to save us the trouble of the whole setup? Like-” Actually, it might just be best not to question how Reca's powers work.

“You.”

His finger was in your face before you could even say the word “me” in a questioning tone.

“Yes, you. You have been acting out of character since the moment you got here.”

Behind you, the Assistant Director croaked.

“She agrees as well.” Reca politely translated.

The temptation to ask what your usual character is snuck up, creeping up behind you on tiptoes and daring to jump out so you could divert this entire conversation onto another track, but you knew when Reca actually bothered to be serious about something there wasn't much point in trying to dodge his questioning. He would get his answers eventually, sometimes in the oddest of ways.

“Okay. I…”

Yet you still couldn't say it.

Not that you had to when Reca said it for you.

“It's the papers, isn't it?”

Your lips pursed. “You do know most people don't call online news ‘papers’ these days, right?”

“I am simply adlibbing a line or two. A little off script verbiage keeps things fresh.” Leaning in towards you Reca said “like making sure you're okay. I can't have my love interest focusing on anything but this scene. After all, there's no passion if your mind is elsewhere.”

“And we can't have that?”

“Why, not at all!”

His hand took your chin, tilting it his way just to make sure you couldn't miss the soft smile he was wearing exclusively for you.

“Everything they said is nonsense, sugarbear.”

Your half-hearted chuckle at his classic, but still just as terrible as ever, pet names tampered off quickly when those words, typed in black and white, flickered across your mind's eye. Both your and Reca’s names were side by side in bold print at the top of an article talking about your relationship. That's how you discovered people thought you weren't with him as a loving partner, but as a clout chaser. They claimed that just because you were a upping comer in the industry, that meant you were a willing leech to his fame. That you were trying to use Reca to make your big break. It was as if they thought your entire being could be summarized with one measly word: a sycophant.

“I don't know, Reca. I mean…”

“Journalists always spit drivel. This is just their newest garbage put to the written word.”

You couldn't help but agree even when your voice was still weak and sounded nothing like you, but then again, so did those articles. They could come up with whatever they wanted, pick a new shiny label to slap onto your name and call it a story.

Right now, they had all the power, and all you could do was curl up and watch the comments agree that, yes, you are just using their beloved Director Reca.

Maybe in the next one, you'll be labeled a gold digger, too, or a Reca obsessed fangirl that can't think of anything else. You could almost see the comments now, claiming you'd say something like “do you have a moment to talk about our lord and savior, Reca” because all you were in their eyes was a hollow shell of the obsessive girlfriend stereotype without anything else to you. They didn't even care that you had a story that made you you.

Hell, it was possible you weren't even a person in their eyes.

"Just...can we just get back to the movie?”

“I don't think so. Not yet, anyway.”

“But you told me you wanted to share one of your favorites with me.”

Reca's hand slid away from your chin, robbing the comfort you were taking in the feeling of his fingers against your skin only for those same slender digits to fall back on your nose and pinch it in his grasp. For a moment, he shook it, forcing your head along with the movement much to your annoyance. Your irritation only got worse when he started talking to you in a baby voice. “Well, now, aren't you being cockamamie? If you're so worried about it, I can perform a one man show, a true artist's version of this movie, especially for you.”

Immediately, you bat his hand away, muttering about how his nose privileges were being revoked.

“You're hopeless. Here I am in the dumps and you're talking about putting on a show.”

“Ah, so you do admit to letting that dredge of a story get to you.” Reca's hand fully pulled away from your poor nose to lay on his chest right over his heart. “You always love to pretend like nothing gets to you, but here you are admitting that what's being said has put a dampener on your mood yourself. Your growth would surely enrapture any audience.”

At this point, you had long since gotten used to Reca's manners of speech, but sometimes….

“This ‘audience’” you air quoted, “are the people online slandering my name because they think I'm using you.”

“No, in fact. I believe you have forgotten your most important audience members: Assistant Director and I. We both know you too well to ever think that's what your goal has been this entire time.”

You sighed. “Right. Of course.”

“Honey pie,” Reca cooed, dragging out the vowels as long as he could. “I know better. No actor could ever match the enthusiasm I catch a glint of in your eyes every time you see me. And trust me, I know a thing or two about acting.”

A thing or two felt like an understatement. Just the very idea that's all Reca knew after all the times he's talked about how great his skills as a director are had you huffing out a laugh. “You're ridiculous.”

“I'd gladly claim that title if it came from you.”

“And absurd.”

“And what else?”

“And a frivolous, silly man. You're a drama queen! And….and…”

Reca hummed, taking this far too nonchalantly for your liking as he peeked up at you through his bangs with a playful wink. He was the complete opposite to your current flustered state. “Perhaps instead of using the name “Mr Reca” at the end credits for my next film, we use one of your suggestions instead.”

You quickly shot that idea down.

“Well,” Reca's hands clapped together, “Now that we've gotten that built-up anger off our chests - though it's a shame I didn't stop to capture your performance - are you feeling better?”

“I'd feel better if I could yell at the journalist who posted the damn article without having it come back and bite me in the ass.”

“Oh I understand completely. I've gotten a bad review or two in my time from people who hadn't the slightest clue what they were talking about I couldn't forget about for weeks. It got so bad I could barely bring myself to hold a camera.”

“No way.”

You couldn't even picture it. Reca, moping around when he was in a creative rut, wasn't anything new to you, but to the point he couldn't even bring himself to line his eye up with a camera? It was almost unthinkable to you.

“Yes way, my precious little star. I could barely even bring myself to get out of bed some days”- that seemed like dramatization- “and was stuck simply lying around waiting for the thoughts plaguing me to finally be edited out of my mind.”

“You mean to be forgotten?”

“That's what I said!”

“Sure,” you drawled out.

“And eventually, I learned that letting those reviews get to me was doing nothing to help me. They weren't even film critics! Only random people weighing in their two cents on a movie they couldn't even understand when their media literacy was in the ground.”

You could already feel your eyes rolling involuntarily. “The horror.”

“Exactly! It was horrific! And now you're letting the same thing get to you. You're letting these people who have no experience in criticizing you get to you.”

That was….such a Reca way of getting his point across.

“You're….You're hopeless.”

“And you're smiling.”

“Involuntarily.”

Your grin had only widened as Reca leaned over the arm of the chair, just as you knew he wanted to, to plant a wet kiss on the cheek he didn't get before.

And another.

And another until you were lying beneath him with your legs kicking in the air as you tried to escape from the endless amounts of kisses you were being smothered with. You barely even noticed Assistant Director leaping out of the way so she wouldn't get crushed by your combined weights as his lips traveled from your forehead to your stomach Reca had exposed to the cool air, stale with the smell of popcorn, as he pushed it out of the way to rest his head on. Strands of his hair tickled your skin with every breath you took as you tried to recover from the giggling fit he had evoked.

When your laughter had finally calmed down, your hand brushed through Reca's hair, pushing it out of the way to catch a glimpse of him. With the light of the projector, you could clearly see him, handsome as ever, even when his face was half hidden by your belly. In a way, it was nice to see you next to him at the top of the latest news outlet article, because at least then people knew he was yours.

Your Reca.

“I'm still not happy about what they're saying about me, and I won't be able to forget it just like that, but thank you. For, uh, listening.”

“Of course, dear. Anytime.”

The articles would still be there tomorrow haunting the back of your mind, but for now you huddled close to Reca and welcomed his not so warm embrace as you two tried to get comfortable in the theaters chairs.

“Do you still want to watch the movie?” You asked as you looked back over at the screen. Funnily enough, the two leads were together again, holding each other tight just like you were with Reca, if not a bit more gracefully.

“Unfortunately I'm afraid I'll have to turn you down this time.”

A surprised guffaw escaped you as your attention snapped back down to Reca at his refusal to watch a film- of all things.

“I meant it when I said you would get a performance: a play featuring Assistant Director and I that would be worthy of the silver screen. By the time we're done, you'll be rewarding us with a standing ovation. As you already know, I never disappoint my audience.”

Ignoring his wink, you asked: “and how are you planning to do that splayed across me like a blanket?”

“Your doubt in my acting ability hurts.” Reca whined, a single gloved hand already going up to fall across his forehead. “I assure you I could wow you on your lap or in the grandest of theaters with all spotlights trained on the stage and waiting for the show to commence…but I simply wanted one more minute like this.”

Your hand brushed through his hair again, running through the strands until you were playing with the white ends of his graying hair. It wrapped around your fingers easily, and with a single tug, you captured his attention.

“One more minute, then.”

[funkybatics]

man imagine u go get a haircut only to get your shit Fucked. you complain about it to dottore and he js stares at you in silence because my god is this such a..... trivial problem to have. but when he sees how you're actually upset over a haircut he'd leave and grab one of his segments, one that has longer hair, and chop their hair to look like yours. "solidarity"- ............his own nonsensical way of comforting you

[funkybatics]

GIGGLING AND TWIRLING MY HAIR WHILE READING THE 3SOME POST HAHAHAHDHSHAHAH THANK YOU FOE THE FOOOOODDDDDDDDDDDDD 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥😳😳😳😳😳😳😳 DEF LOOKING FORWARD FOR THAT FIC *eyes the tags

Your kind words have inspired me to start working on it, anon 🤭

[funkybatics]

☆ Riding their thigh ☆

Ayato, Dottore + Mydei x fem reader

cw: smut—thigh riding, praise and slight degrading, cursing, established relationship, Dottore secretly has a soft spot for you, possessiveness. Word count: around 3k in total. [back to m.list]

Not suitable for minors.

Ayato

Despite you becoming the Lady of the Kamisato clan due to marriage union between you and Ayato, he still ended up being too busy quite often. As the Lady, you were expected to participate and help with clan affairs as a part of your duties, but even that wasn’t enough to ease Ayato’s workload entirely. You were busy too, but sometimes his work ended up being bigger than yours, and you couldn’t wait for his return after you were done with your business for the day…

Today was one of these days. Waiting for him patiently turned into impatience, especially when you were getting heated up by just having thoughts about your handsome husband and his voice that loved to tease you so much.

Finally having enough of the waiting in your shared chambers, you decided to visit his office in the Yashiro commission part of the Kamisato estate, hoping you’ll get to scold him about working—hard enough to change his mind and make Ayato “rest”with you.

After knocking on the door, in a way that Ayato would easily recognize after years, you stepped into his office. Here he was, using his brush and ink to write some documents, a frown between his brows. Ayato looked up at you, a small, tired smile on his face. “Do you need something, my love?” he asked, but his eyes sneakily checked out your form in your nightly yukata.

“Mhm, yes, actually. I need my husband to get some rest before he ages grey-haired in just few moments of working,” you chastised gently, before you were sitting down on your knees, on tatami floors next to him. Ayato chuckled at your comment. You weren’t entirely wrong, even if your words were an exaggeration—he already had some wrinkles under his eyes, and who knew when the grey hair will be next… but above most, you simply were worried and wanted him to relax.

“Hm, I’m honored to hear that my wife still worries about my looks, although…” Ayato’s voice was light and then smiled knowingly, noticing small signs of your erratic state. “… something else seems to be troubling her.”

He got you there. The way you were looking at him, your eyes widened, your lips slightly parting and you being a bit breathless—of course he’d have noticed your arousal. You sighed, before putting a hand on his chest. “I admit, me and my body miss you, but I’ll gladly help you out too, Ayato.” Your hand went up to his cheek. “Don’t you want me too?” you said with a lower murmur.

Of course he wanted you. 24/7, he’d dare to say. Especially when you spoke like this. His eyes darkened, but he quickly threw himself off the hazed state of mind, remembering that he wouldn’t be able to fully enjoy you with a leftover work lingering on his mind. “You should know you’re always desirable to me, my dear wife. Unfortunately, I cannot abandon my work with a deadline it has, but…” His hands suddenly grabbed onto your hips. “I’m sure I can still take care of my wife.” You were being brought onto his lap next.

Or rather, he got you straddling his left thigh, your face facing his. You looked at him in surprise, wondering what he meant exactly. “I’m sure you find each part of me attractive, so even my own thigh should be enough for now, right?” Ayato asked teasingly, and one of the hands holding your hips went up to your face. He brushed the hair off of your cheek and kissed your skin, not willing to go for lips so he doesn’t end up riling himself up yet.

“Just use my thigh to all your heart’s content,” he whispered to your ear, making you squirm. Only then you understood what he meant, and as much as you felt like a desperate to have to get off of his thigh, he was right in his words about you enjoying each part of your husband. His thigh will have to do for now, until Ayato gives you more later. You were so aroused that even this you’d take with a relief.

When you started to move, hesitantly at first, Ayato picked up his brush again, with his left hand remaining on your back as if encouraging you or simply still wanting to touch his wife. When a pleasure from the friction against your clit was quickly building up, having layers of your and his clothes in a way, you had to wrap your arms around him for a support and you were no longer scared to move fast. Your face ended up burying itself into his neck, enjoying the familiar scent and warmth of your husband with the press of his chest against yours, just adding up to your enjoyment. “Good girl,” Ayato praised with a smooch onto the top of your head.

You wanted to call out his name, but remembering how busy he was at the moment, you bit down on your lip, as you continued self pleasuring on his muscles. Your arms were like locked in the vicious grip. This situation wasn’t easy on Ayato either—despite still being able to focus on his work, the sounds of your grunts so close to his ear and the feeling of wetness on his leg were hanging in the back of his mind. His hand tightened on the handle of his brush. He was surely getting himself aroused too, but thanks to you, Ayato felt even more motivated to complete his work faster, and reward you and himself in the comforts of your bedroom later.

Dottore

Dottore put you on his lap when he was in the middle of his work by the desk, after you’ve been not-so-secretly seeking out his attention. Looking at him from the distance, pretending you’re just busy with your own lab work, until he finally felt resigned and had to ask in annoyance— “If there’s something you want, I suggest you say it aloud instead of staring at me.”

You felt victorious that moment when he let you sit down on his lap (even if you couldn’t see his face), and with his arms around you to reach the papers on his desk, you felt as if even he enjoyed the moment of affection. He could have easily said no to you and he didn’t. But finally being able to enjoy his presence, you were quickly getting more greedy. Feeling the weight of his body, smelling the familiar scent of antiseptic and hearing his deep voice as he talked to himself about his project—it was putting a familiar desire in you.

It was showing in your body. “Would you stop squirming, love?” Dottore asked, annoyed once again. He wouldn’t tell you his real thoughts though—that he enjoyed when just his mere presence was enough for you to want him. Or that you were on his mind in most unwanted moments, nor would he tell you about the plans he had for you later. Despite, Dottore just needed to focus on his work first.

“Can’t you take a break?” you asked, more on a whiny side, although not pressing onto the matter fully yet. You knew the rules. You turned your head to look to the side, feeling even more arousal when seeing his red eyes stare at you down so piercingly. You felt like moaning just from being given the look alone. “Please,” you said softly, something that still had an ability to melt his heart… just a little. There was something about you that got Dottore more lenient with you, even if it made him feel like a weak fool; especially when he was supposed to focus on his research for Fatui and humanity first. You already were worthy enough as you were less of a burden to him with your skills as an assistant; one who didn’t need to be told like a child what needs to be done each next step, unlike his past assistants who were now… in different situations. You even learned how to read his needs.

Which also made Dottore very displeased when other clones looked at you his lover too long, noticing good qualities about you as well.

“No,” he said sternly, regardless of his thoughts. “You are well aware my work comes first. Sit still or find something else to do instead.”

You didn’t protest, no matter how disappointed you felt at his rejection. Something he easily noticed from the angle of his face behind yours; and you being disappointed was something that bothered him for some reason. An idea popped into his mind next. Perhaps he could kill two birds with one stone… satisfy his lover and have notes for future reference.

“Although…” You perked up at the word, hearing about the sudden ‘but’. “Yes?” you responded immediately, not hiding your excitement.

“Perhaps you could help me out with a certain research,” Dottore said with a mischievous glint in his eye. You were going to either hate or love it, but the choice was yours. You had to be fucked in the head yourself, in order to want to be in relationship with Dottore in the first place.

“What is the research on?” your voice was curious, even if you felt sudden nervousness.

“The research, my dear…” Dottore grabbed your chin under your head, and forced it back to make you look at him as if you were someone below him; his other hand grabbed onto your throat, and he enjoyed the way your pulsed raced in anticipation under his fingers. Oh, how you loved when he looked at you like this. “…is to see how different your pleasure is depending on what we do. We already know how penetration and oral sex affects you…” he spoke very methodically. “But things like grinding have results unknown to us. Clitoris and external stimulus are very important to the woman’s pleasure after all.”

Of course Dottore has been studying you. That’s how his love language worked—understanding you rather than getting to know you, and analyzing each part of you. His ways of speaking should have embarrassed you, but as a scientist yourself and long used to seeing Dottore being Dottore, it only sparked even more arousal for you.

With your current position, two plus two made immediate sense to you. The entire time, you were sitting only on one of his legs, as Dottore didn’t want you to cover his vision when working. “You want me to… grind on your thigh?” came out your question, filled with excitement and some sense of shame. Grinding his thigh while he ignores you for work’s purposes would feel rather degrading, but the prospect of using it to make him desperate too interested you. You knew how to approach Dottore.

Dottore nodded. “Are you scared?” he teased. You shook your head. “Good.” He then grabbed your waist from behind and started to move your body across his right thigh, looking more at the papers he read than you. He moved you so automatically, seemingly not paying attention to you, that you felt some embarrassment; but it was quickly forgotten when you felt your folds and clit be so pleasantly rubbed through your clothes and against his leg.

You mewled when his hand suddenly covered your mouth, your fault as you moaned. “Hush. I don’t want you to be interrupting my work,” he scolded coldly, near your ear. “You’re already so desperate, aren’t you? All I’ve given you is my thigh,” Dottore claimed with condescension, clicking his tongue at you.

But a thigh was enough for you if it was his thigh. And Dottore wasn’t just angry at you interrupted his work—he was also self aware your sounds were affecting him as well. He had to mute you so he could focus on his papers and occasionally write down his observations on you.

Only for it all go to waste when your ass accidentally brushed against his crotch, as you were unable to control squirms of your body under the pleasure.

“Dammit, woman…” he cursed. Dottore had enough, as he suddenly pushed your body towards the desk, making you lay face down and bent over. You heard a rushed sound of a belt being unbuckled and felt your bottom piece of your clothing get shoved down your legs. “I guess I’ll have to fuck you hard first. You just won’t let me be until I do.”

You got what you wanted in the end. Even more than you asked for.

Mydei

You weren’t surprised when Mydei came back to you, all riled up with anger by something that happened. He had a tendency to gather rage when some enemy crossed him and got in his ways of fighting. But when you asked Mydei about what happened, he didn’t answer you. Instead, he brought you onto his lap, as he seated himself on the throne he created. He held you tight against him, as you were his biggest source of comfort, and Mydei preferred to calm down this way before he’d have a chance to speak and say something awful. He’d never take it out on you with something like sex either, afraid he’d hurt you upon his anger.

There was one small problem though—with anger rushing through his veins, his leg kept bouncing up and down subconsciously. You tried to focus on being held tightly by him, your face pressed against his muscular chest, but the constant movement got you feel some stimulation spark in your crotch involuntarily. Every move of his leg was his thigh hitting your clit from below. Your hard efforts to keep quiet went to waste, when finally a small moan left your lips, as you were unable to handle more of his bouncing.

Mydei looked up from the neck he was hiding his face in, a worry painted on his face at first. He thought he accidentally hurt you by squeezing too hard, but ended up confused when he noticed your expression. You looked embarrassed as hell, and it was only then when he became self aware of the movements of his own body.

Something tight stirred in his guts, and Mydei suddenly smirked. “I was all angry at my enemies, and here you are enjoying yourself?” he teased, his fury momentarily forgotten. You felt speechless after being caught. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to downplay your feelings, it’s just…” you tried to explain, but Mydei laughed a bit.

“I’m not angry at you. I can tell your reaction was my fault, especially when I know that you can’t really control yourself around me…” Mydei‘s voice was now lower, and he looked at you like a hungry man. He loved the look on your face, with you all excited for him already—and just for him. He had to give you a deep kiss at least, one you gladly reciprocated even if you were unable to follow its speed; he held you even tighter to him now.

When he separated his lips from yours, leaving you all breathless and dazed for him, looking at you like this had Mydei get an idea in his mind. While he wouldn’t take out his frustrations on you, he could always distract his mind and give you what you were starting to secretly want.

“My love…” he started. “Let me look at you like this some more,” he said with a growl in his voice.

You gulped at the intensity of his eyes, and while you were embarrassed by your previous accident, you now were sold on the idea. Mydei clearly found you beautiful and enticing like this, and you now wanted to give him a show worth not peeling his gaze away from.

When you nodded, Mydei manhandled you onto his thigh with a scary ease, as if you weighed nothing. His big arms didn’t hold you this time, instead he let you control the pace; with that, your pleasure—Mydei only wanted to see you, and so he’d let you take the charge. He only allowed his hands rest on your hips to have some contact with you.

“Go on, my beautiful woman. Give me a show worth the applause.”

You didn’t waste time and started to glide along his thigh back and forth, albeit slowly at first as you already felt so overwhelmed under his watchful eyes. Being watched by the man you loved the most felt so good, as if it was some ritual and you were being worshipped. Your hands ended up resting on his shoulders for balance.

The pleasured look on your face, fueled by pleasure you felt in your pussy from the friction, it got Mydei hard already. But he’d stay watching you like this first, not daring to disrespect your hard work. When you sped up and your sounds were getting louder, his grip on your hips tightened.

He was a dead man already when you started to play with your breast through your tunic, and Mydei desperately wished it was him touching that soft flesh. “You truly are gorgeous…” he whispered in awe, and gulped. Only you were able to make this great warrior weak. Your lips parting to moan out his name, the sensual roll of your hips, nothing but pleasure in your beautiful eyes—Mydei suddenly needed a statue to be carved in the memorial of this scene.

“Mydei… Mydei!” you were getting close, unable to hold back any pleasure your pearl received against his meaty thigh. You were so vocal, and each grind stirred wetness in your underwear and got it so messy.

Unable to deny you the pleasure he noticed was growing within you, Mydei started to help you move. His big palms were holding onto your hips with a Herculean strength, and dragging your slick pussy across his leg with ease. “That’s it. Come for me on my thigh. Show me how much of mine you are,” Mydei encouraged roughly, and he locked your eye contact with him to stay frozen. “Say my name again as you do.”

Looking him in the eye, you finally came with the scream of his name on your lips. Mydei observed your orgasm ruin your body, a lot of satisfaction visible on his face, before he pulled you close against his body again to let you rest. He had to try hard to ignore you sitting close to his bulge.

Rest, because even if his anger was now long gone, you filled him with another kind of frustration—desire, and you weren’t getting away from him. He rubbed your back as if in praise, before he was lifting you up again.

[funkybatics]

Headcannons with a gender neutral and vampire dottore, please? 🥺

Of course^^

Dottore as a vampire is every bit as cunning and enigmatic as his human counterpart, but his vampiric traits amplify his allure—and danger.

His crimson eyes seem to glow faintly in the dark, always focused on you with an unnerving intensity. He insists it’s purely curiosity, but the way his gaze lingers tells a different story.

You’re not sure what intrigues him more, your blood or you. He tries to evade the question whenever you ask him such and makes you focus on something else.

Despite his sharp tongue and calculating demeanor, Dottore has a protective streak when it comes to you. As much as he’d like to deny it, he’s unwilling to let any harm come to what’s his.

He’s utterly fascinated by your mortal fragility. He pokes at it, both scientifically and emotionally, curious to see how far you can be pushed yet he always pulls back before crossing a line.

Dottore isn’t the traditional brooding vampire; he embraces his condition fully, viewing it as an evolution rather than a curse.

His laboratory is littered with vials of blood samples, experiments, and notes. He’s determined to unravel every mystery of vampirism, even his own.

His fangs are sharper and more pronounced than most vampires, giving him a slightly feral look when he smirks.

Though he can go without feeding for extended periods, he’s very particular about the "quality" of the blood he consumes. Yours, of course, is his favorite though he’d never admit it outright.

You occasionally catch him running a gloved finger along his fangs when deep in thought, a subconscious gesture that oddly suits him.

Dottore is oddly possessive of you. While he doesn’t explicitly forbid you from seeing others, his sharp glares and cutting remarks are enough to discourage most people from approaching you.

He teases you relentlessly about how “helpless” humans are.

“How do you survive without heightened senses or regenerative abilities?” he muses, though there’s a hint of genuine concern beneath the jest.

Despite his penchant for mockery, Dottore is surprisingly attentive to your needs. If you’re cold, he’ll drape his cloak around your shoulders while grumbling about how fragile you are. If you’re injured, he’ll patch you up with meticulous care.

When it comes to affection, Dottore is.. unique. He’s not one for traditional romance, but he has his ways. A lingering touch here, a smirk that softens into something almost tender. It’s in the small moments that his feelings shine through.

The first time Dottore fed on you, it was a calculated decision. He explained the process clinically, as if he were preparing for a medical procedure.

But the moment his fangs pierced your skin, all pretense of detachment vanished. His grip on you tightened, and for the first time, you saw a crack in his composed exterior, a raw, almost desperate hunger.

Afterward, he was unusually quiet, avoiding your gaze as he wiped away the faint trace of blood on your neck. It wasn’t guilt exactly, more like a sense of vulnerability he wasn’t used to feeling.

Over time, the act of feeding became almost intimate, a shared secret between the two of you. He’s still careful not to overindulge, though you sometimes catch him staring at your neck with a glint of longing in his eyes.

Dottore has a soft spot for quiet nights spent in his study, you curled up with a book while he works on his experiments. Though he pretends not to notice, he’ll occasionally glance over to make sure you’re comfortable.

He’s surprisingly fond of running his fingers through your hair. He claims it’s because he’s “studying human anatomy,” but the way his touch lingers tells a different story.

If you ever express insecurity about your mortality, Dottore will scoff and remind you that he’s the most brilliant mind in Teyvat. If anyone can find a way to prolong your life, it’s him.

He’s not great with verbal affirmations, but his actions speak volumes. Whether it’s shielding you from danger or silently placing your favorite tea on your desk, Dottore has his own way of showing he cares.

Dottore doesn’t get jealous often, but when he does, it’s intense. His crimson eyes narrow, his fangs glinting slightly as he watches someone get too close to you.

He won’t confront the person directly, he’s far too calculated for that. Instead, he’ll use his intimidating presence and sharp wit to subtly assert his dominance.

If you’re ever in danger, his protective instincts go into overdrive. He becomes a whirlwind of calculated violence, dispatching threats with brutal efficiency before checking you over for injuries.

“You’re reckless,” he scolds, though his hands are gentle as he bandages a scrape on your arm. “Do you have any idea how easily you could’ve been killed?”

While Dottore is logical and calculating, you bring a sense of warmth and humanity to his cold, methodical world. He’ll never admit it, but he finds your optimism and compassion refreshing.

You often tease him for being too serious, earning an exasperated sigh and a rare, fleeting smile.

He’s not used to someone genuinely caring for him without an ulterior motive, and it takes him a while to fully accept your kindness.

In turn, Dottore challenges you to think more critically, pushing you out of your comfort zone in ways that ultimately make you stronger.

Dottore has a habit of “tutoring” you on vampire lore, though his explanations often devolve into long-winded tangents about his experiments.

He’s fiercely territorial, but it manifests in subtle ways. Like draping his cloak over your chair or casually mentioning that you belong to him in front of others.

When he’s deep in thought, he’ll sometimes rest his chin on your shoulder or absentmindedly twirl a strand of your hair around his finger.

Sometimes he would even look over the bites he made from his previous feedings, adoring how you look with it knowing that it was he who did them. He's not letting any other vampires have a taste of you.

[funkybatics]

hi! im unsure if youre okay with threesomes but like.. Imagine Prime and Omega fucking reader at the same time, reader is just having the time of their life and just getting sandwiched between them. like that would be insanely hot?!1?!

How you managed for this to happen is a miracle because these two men would never, ever share you with another segment, especially during sex. Prime is the original - everyone knows not to cross certain boundaries with you and him. Omega has the most authority right after and is also quite selfish - there's no luck for the other segments there either. Therefore, the others have already gotten the message and know not to interrupt.

However... that's what you always assumed, up until now of course, considering both of them were now on your bed, focusing solely on your body. Prime had tore off your pants while Omega had already discarded your shirt. Your mind was already disoriented from two pairs of hands roaming your body but all you could remember was... something something Omega goading Prime... something something Prime unwilling to let a mere segment think he's better, something something you got caught in the middle of their little game.

Both of them are more than confident in their ability to pleasure you, but Omega moreso feels the need to prove to you his superiority. Prime is already aware of this but he never cared because he knows it'll be fruitless in the end. Unfortunately for them they never get their desired result because you're far too fucked out by the end of it to give a definite answer.

Regardless, both of always make sure to make you come a few times before they even think of fucking you properly, so... you're going to be in for a ride. Omega tends to be quite precise when he's tongue and finger fucking you, not a single movement wasted, while surprisingly, Prime has a habit of being sloppy and messy - yet equally as pleasurable, and the quickly alternating sensations is enough to make you lose coherent thought. Of course, while one is busy between your legs, the other is probably making you suck on his fingers while fondling your chest.

Prime and Omega make the best pair of being so sweet to you - holding your hand, while one licks your tears away and the other kisses them away gently - and yet so mean to you - bullying their cocks into your used holes despite how much cum is already leaking out. They're not going to stop until they've reached a conclusion for this experiment :(. Poor you... (not!)

[funkybatics]

Lilium Candidum

RECA X READER .

A sip of wine mid-way the day was certain to put your mind at ease. That rich flavor, the liquid flowing down your tongue—a flavor so, so familiar to you, and yet you feel addicted to it. You are aware of your habits, your fixation with drowning your sorrows and troubles with wine, though refuse to do anything to change.

Change.

To you, there is no change. You and that director, him? You both are aware of the constant cycle that you two had decided to put yourselves in. Every single agonizing day, of constant yearning, constant glances though neither of you are willing to change what you already have. Because what you already have is enough, in your eyes. Atleast, that is what you tell yourself.

..

Lately, you've began to doubt yourself. Not simply your actions, but your entire identity, thoughts about what you want. Perhaps you did consider the idea, a concept in which one of you did overstep, and change the status of your relationship, rather than staying in a state of yearning and reluctance.

It's doubts, doubts that you cannot control your own self, that you cannot control yourself from loving that damn director so much to the point that it destroys you, whether physically or mentally, that he'd consume every fraction of your mind to the point it overwhelms you, overrides you.

It's conflicting, confusing—and it is far too much.

-

"Director," you had uttered, a delicate whisper reserved for solely for the director's ears. It was a long day, and it's almost time before you depart from him once more.

-

Mr. Reca is an observant man. Passionate at his works, yes, and a voice that could charm any wonderful actor that may have been graced with his interested gaze. Though his actions in his pursuit of creating the grandest of films are.. unconventional at best, and comments regarding his.. crazed enthusiasm, but it all results to his creation to another wonderful and successful film.

His films are brilliant, successful and they convey emotions and delicate themes so beautifully that it makes you forget he isn't human. Or, atleast, not human anymore.

You remember that faithful day, having to deal with the overwhelming crowd. Then, he approached you, rambling about your "potential" and requesting you to be his actor, his muse. It was beneficial, and it's not as if you are under hands that cannot handle your skill set of acting.

To Reca? You were excellent, perfect for his films. Additionally, he was extremely keen on the idea of you to be under his direction, rather than the Iris family (His views on them are.. unsavory, to put it delicately). To him, your excellent performance was brought to freedom upon being his actor.

"Saved from the shackles of mediocre film production!", Or so he claimed.

-

".. You're always the last one to leave, my dear." He points out, skeptical, red eyes fixed solely on you, as it's always been, "Why?"

".. Why?" You repeat, confused at the question, though replying just as quickly, "I simply wish to, director."

"Out of your kindness," He mused, ".. Or is it the familiarity?" He adds, and you're not so sure, "Or do you dislike the idea of leaving my side?" He adds again, and still, you don't know. His tone seemed teasing, to jab teasingly. Despite it being so, you always managed to take his words seriously.

Or maybe he does mean his words, that? You aren't sure either, you're always unsure. he's always conflicted you, and his actions have always conflicted you.

".. I simply wish to, director, pay no mind to the implications." You emphasize again, shaking your head, insistent due to not knowing what these implications are yourself, you don't know why you do this, you don't know why you insist on doing this.

"The implications," he repeats your words, he seemed oddly reluctant to respond back. It's unlike the great director, and despite this, he's hesitant to comment further.

The silence is deafening, and overwhelming if left to stay as simply silence. He knows there should've been more words to make up for the silence, and yet neither of you wish to overstep.

..

".. I suppose I should be going, director." You broke the silence, thankfully enough.

"Ah, yes, carry on, carry on," He bounced back to his typical expression, waving his hand dismissively.

"My actor must be well-rested! Your brilliance must not rust!" He claims as his reason, as a matter-of-fact, though you know that it simply translates to him being worried about you possibly gaining the horrible experience of sleep deprivation.

And sleep deprivation translates to you not being able to properly act, ofcourse.

".. Though, my dear.."

Blinking, looking up at him. You don't move, no, you didn't wish to move, as he took something out of the pocket of his coat. The movement in his hands were careful, holding the item delicately, as if scared to accidentally break whatever he has to share to you.

"I had found this.. accessory." He explained, though he leaves out where he found it to you.

It was a hairpiece. Adorned with patterns of white lilies and small irises, bathed in silver. It was.. familiar, but you've never seen this piece before in your wardrobe, nor do you recall ever wearing such piece before.

"I wish to give it to you." He adds, gentle hands reaching to your ear, "Only if you allow me to, ofcourse." He jests a little, aware that you'd say yes regardless, you always have a hard time to refute him.

".. Ofcourse." And you answer, you let him do so.

With careful hands, he adjusted the hairpiece to the 'perfect' spot at the side of your hair. Skilled hands, determined in adjusting the piece to fit what he believes as perfection. The concept of perfection, or his concept of perfection, is what contributes to his films being what it is.

Eventually, he backs away, examining you with the hairpiece now. Of course, he believes you'd look beautiful regardless.

He hums, appreciating, soft smile placed on his lips as he nodded in approval, "Fabulous," he praises, a typical thing to occur within your dynamic with him, ".. You look fabulous, my dear." his voice is far softer now, far more intimate, gaze set on you, longingly, yearning.

You could not help to resist the faint blush that creeped into your skin. It's flustering, and embarrassing for you to be so flustered under his softer gazes. His more enthusiastic gaze, his more typical gaze, you can handle. But once he begins to express his more softer, intimate affections? You get easily flustered, every single time.

".. Thank you, Reca." You muster out despite your state, and he nods, pleased with himself.

Reca's company, his soft gazes, everything about him.. it's familiar, it's addicting, you're aware that it's addicting and you cannot help but wish to indulge yourself in it more, to tell him every thought, every sorrowful, troubled experience.

And you wish to indulge yourself more.

[funkybatics]

idk why but mr. reca REALLY gives off submissive energy… not necessarily NSFW but is like the little spoon when cuddling or the one always listening to u. its kinda hard to explain 😭

i just rlly want loser lover reca cause that fits him sm

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Reca x Gender-Neutral reader

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling Mistakes

I understand what you mean, don’t worry...

He’s a total loser. I mean, he's a total loser even though he’s a famous director and has the confidence that makes people nervous when they're in a room with him alone. At the end of the day, he finds himself running back to you—always finds himself running back to you. You always take him back which makes him so happy.

He's basically like a dog, Listening to you with such intent that the normal might just think he’s zoning out while talking to you. But not at all! He’s listening while observing your face the entire time. 

Forget being a little spoon while cuddling—he is—he lays on your lap whenever you sit down, and he’s down on his knees on the floor while he’s face-first into your lap, how is it even comfortable who knows? Even when you hit his head playfully and tell him to get off since your thighs are starting to numb.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Get off already, my thighs feel numb.” 

He always does this. His knees were on the hardwood floor while he planted his face right into your thighs for who knows how long it’s been and, of course, he showed no signs of moving anytime soon. His arms were wrapped tightly around your waist, his grip firm like he thought you might escape if he let go for even a second. You sighed, running a hand through his hair, attempting to pry him away gently.

“Come on,” you coaxed, trying to keep the irritation out of your voice. “I’m serious. I can’t feel my legs anymore.”

He groaned in protest, nuzzling closer as if to anchor himself. “Just a few more minutes,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your skin. “I’m comfortable.”

“You’re comfortable,” you deadpanned, glaring down at him. “Meanwhile, I feel like I’m about to lose circulation in both legs.”

He tilted his head up, resting his chin on your thigh as he gave you a pitiful look, his lips pulled into a soft pout. “But you’re so comfy. And warm.”

“And you feel like a stack of bricks.”

He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if you’d just wounded him. “A stack of bricks? Wow. I’m hurt. Truly.”

“Not as hurt as my legs are right now,” you shot back, giving his hair a playful tug. “Seriously, get up before I shove you off.”

“I don’t mind. Hit me as much as you like, your hands will still feel amazing!”

“Get off.”

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[funkybatics]

Celestia has fallen, ending a period of turmoil, meaning you and Dottore are free to do what you want with the rest of your lives - but both of you have trouble getting accustomed to this new, strangely peaceful life.

Seeing the sky completely clear save for puffy clouds was a sight that still took getting used to, after all, the island that had once been there was commonplace for everyone. But now, after a long and arduous war, and centuries of preparation and loss, it was over. Celestia had been defeated, the era of rebuilding was slow yet steady, and the Fatui had disbanded shortly after their victory.

... Meaning that you and Dottore, who once had much to do and worry about, now had... very little to do and worry about. His once-important experiments had reached their peak, and what's more, you were finally free from your illness. There was no need for all-nighters spent hastily writing notes, creating new concoctions for you, tending to the darker side of his work. Similarly, the days spent in anguish and sickness had now become a memory of the past, although your body was still slowly recovering.

So what was there to do now?

That was what you thought as you lay in the dark, cuddling close to Zandik's chest in your new home. It was an odd feeling - having him this close for days on end - sleeping with you from nightfall to the sun rising. It was once an exceedingly rare occurrence, from when he was once a busy Harbinger, but here he was still in bed. (Although he still had a habit of waking up early - whether he laid there and stared at you, or got up to find something to busy himself with was still a fifty-fifty chance.)

To be honest, now that you thought about it, you never had a real, fleshed-out plan on what to do after everything was over. All you had was the first step - acquire a spacious and cozy home in Sumeru to settle down. And well, that had been accomplished surprisingly easier than you anticipated - The Jester had gifted you such a house in a perfect spot - leaving it as a goodbye gift.

In the beginning, the days had been as leisurely as possible, bordering on lazy. Sleeping in late into the day, hours upon hours spent appreciating each other's presence and body. You defended it as making up for centuries of lost time, although Dottore didn't protest in the first place. Dinner was spent quietly outside, looking up at the sky that was no longer false. However, it was obvious both of you were growing a bit restless - which was why you quickly came up with a plethora of new things to do.

—

"Let's start a garden!"

And so had started a common goal between you two - although another issue that had been presented in this new relaxing life was Dottore's lingering hesitation to trust you with certain activities. Constantly he was keeping an eye on your every move or stepping in himself, even though he knew you could do some things yourself now.

Truthfully, you couldn't blame him, already aware that overprotectiveness that lasted centuries wouldn't go away so easily, but that was something that would have to be worked through slowly. He was still performing a routine check-up on your every day...

"Zandik, it's just digging up some soil. You're acting like the worms are going to attack me or something."

"... Just make sure not to scrap your knees."

"I'm also not a child- darling, what are you injecting into the plants...?" Your husband only smiled, his sharp teeth gleaming.

"This? Do not worry, we won't consume these ones. This is simply... a test to indulge my curiosity."

Well, you always knew his love of experimenting would never truly go away! Maybe you'll get some cool, fucked up, weird mutated plants!

—

"Let's get a kitty so Foxttore has a friend!"

Despite all the tragedy you'd endured, Foxttore was one of the few things that remained with you the whole time, even after the way. The creature quite liked Sumeru after surviving Snezhnaya - it was always lazily sunbathing and refused to come in. Dottore still kept his habit of locking it out.

The pufflings too of course - but they had made the two of you become the gossip of the children - turns out the black puff balls started playing with the kids and kept returning to your house, making them whisper about "the two weird grown-ups who live out in the middle of nowhere." You were amused.

Regardless of your reputation, now you and your husband were in the perfect environment to finally own a cute kitty. The lab wasn't exactly the ideal place for such an animal, after all.

... So now, an equally as lazy cat could be found sleeping on Zandik's lap as he read by the window, giving it languid tummy rubs and pets. Foxttore wasn't invited.

—

"Let's go exploring!"

When you had dropped this idea on Zandik, he had given you a strange look.

"All this time, you had been pleading with me to stay inside and relax, but now you wish to go and exert yourself?" Despite his remarks, you could tell Zandik wished to do something with his hands as well.

"Well, this is because it's going to be fun! It'll be like we're students again!"

And with that, you two were back inside the huge Ruin Golem in the forest. To be honest, there was not much to actually explore here, but... it was nostalgic. It was places like these where the two of you spent a lot of time together, and where he told you of his grand ambitions as a young scholar.

And even after all this time, the former Harbinger was still fascinated with the technology, already playing with something, to which you joined him. No doubt he already knew the answer, but it was something to keep his once-overworked mind occupied.

"Guess the two of us aren't cut out for this 'normal life' stuff, eh? Coming back here even though there's nothing left to be discovered. Think the notes we left are still here?"

"That's impossible. They must have long eroded by now," he briefly commented, hands still running over the cool metal.

"So... wanna test if you're still motion-sick?"

—

"Let's teach you how to cook... again!"

Loads of spare time had come with nothing better to do than to attempt to make the impossible become possible once again, which was why you had the Harbinger turned house husband in the kitchen with you, equipped with an apron you forced him to wear if he wanted any sweets.

This time you had decided to forget actual food and make one, singular, cupcake. Surely he couldn't mess that up, right?

You made him clean the kitchen after throwing out the burnt apron.

—

In conclusion, there were still lots of things that could fill the endless time you two were given. But there was still something you wanted, although you weren't sure how to bring it up.

The loss of the segments still remained a wound in your heart, although you moved on from all those years ago. More specifically, Zandy was someone you held extremely dear in your heart and memories. The child had changed your life, and Dottore's too - opening his own heart to softness - which was something you longed for too.

However, naturally, you were nervous asking Zandik about it. After all, becoming a father was probably not something he saw himself doing. Of course, your anxiety was quickly recognized by your lover, who beckoned you one night.

"What plagues your mind?" His question startled you, and although you knew he'd come around to asking eventually, you still weren't prepared to answer properly. But you knew you'd have to come out with it soon.

"There's... something I want."

"Tell me," Zandik quickly reassured you. "I'm sure it is within my capabilities."

"I... I don't know if you'd want to," you awkwardly admitted, to which your husband gave you a hard look, and then moved to squeeze your hand.

"I can only determine that if you tell me what it is you desire." With a sigh, you had to agree.

"I've been thinking... about our... family," the last word was uttered softly, as if you still couldn't believe things reached this point.

"There's you, me, Foxttore, the pufflings, our kitty Beaker, and I guess the crows around here could count too... and I love everyone a lot!" Dottore hummed in agreement, rubbing his fingers over your knuckles.

"But... what if we added someone else to our family? A... c-child, perhaps," you finally blurted out your confession, working up the courage to look at him directly. Speaking of, he had stopped wearing that mask of his now, so you were always subject to his brilliant red eyes. As such, you witnessed the gems widen slightly and his jaw slacken. Quickly you rushed to continue.

"I-I know it'll be a lot of work and responsibility but together we can do it! And I know it probably isn't something you thought of but I'll be here with you all the way... I know you won't let the past repeat itself," you murmured, well aware of how he was treated as a child. Dottore's gaze had moved to the stars, still silent at your words, which was making you worry at this point.

"If-"

"It is not something I am opposed to," Zandik finally admitted, and you had to hold back a sigh of relief.

"Truly?"

"Yes. However..." He trailed off, perhaps wondering how to articulate the fears you already knew full well - how could someone like him ever be a loving father? Did he even have that capability? How could he hold his child with his stained hands?

"I understand," you squeezed his hand. "We'll figure it out together," you promised, "just like how we figured everything else out. How else would we have stayed together for a couple hundred years?" You gently teased him to which he finally looked at you again, an unusually soft look in his eyes.

"We will," Zandik agreed, kissing you on your forehead.

—

Time continued to move, and from a student to Harbinger, Zandik now found himself a parent, who was now cuddled in between him and you - though you were already fast asleep, while his daughter had woken him up in the middle of the night. The fact that Dottore hadn't woken up earlier was a testament to how much he loosened up these past years...

"Go back to sleep. I won't take you out to the forest if you're too tired." The young girl pouted at her father's strictness.

"But it's not my fault! I'm too excited to watch you do your experimenting stuff!" (In reality, all they were doing was collecting samples of plants.) With a sigh, the man stroked her hair.

"Oh! Oh! How about you sing the song they always sing to you when you're grumpy! That always makes you relax!" His daughter seemed to have picked up some of your cheeky, bargaining habits...

"If you do, will you quiet down?" The girl quickly nodded.

"Very well..." And so, he began humming a tune, that was rather off-key despite you teaching it to him quite a few times, but his little girl didn't seem to notice much.

In the dark, you secretly smiled at the sweet interaction. To think after centuries of pain, you finally obtained such a life...

Everything would be okay, in the end.

[funkybatics]

Imagine Dottore getting you pregnant and having to deal with a very protective foxttore.

Not even the segments are safe from his wrath!!!! rumor has it Omega got bitten when trying to give you a kiss!

Foxttore following u everywhere and guarding you (even if you pet him and tell him it's ok, he just loves u sm.... he care u. Also he just doesn't like Dottore)

Foxttore growling and side eyeing Dottore whenever he comes too close (he just wants to lay by you.. maybe he should find a way to dispose of this fat creature already...)

Him reluctantly letting them near when you reassure him it's oki (he still watches them like a hawk)

Also when the baby is born, Foxttore is by its side 24/7!!!! hes the best guard dog(?)

[funkybatics]

dottore lowkey teaches u how to dissect a dead body to preserve and sell study the organs but make it romantic and weird and im tired cw; gn!reader, descriptions of blood and organs, tension, confession? sorta

His hand is atop your dominant one while your fingers hold onto your scalpel tightly, making sure your grip is steady and precise. Slowly drawing incision after incision, you watch blood seep out of the cuts you make. The flow of it is so slow and serene it nearly brings you peace, as you observe it slide across the corpse’s skin silently.

(plus, you’re doing a decent job cutting it up since there are no surprise blood geysers, so the slow trickle of blood almost counts as a reward for your good work.)

It trickles down the dips and indents of the body, leaving a faint trail of crimson down, down, down until it reaches the cold vivisection table. You watch it form a small pool of ichor, and only when Dottore hums a soft, low 'focus' do your eyes snap back to the cadaver’s torso, where your blade rests.

After you lift the scalpel away from the skin, he slides a swift hand beneath the cut to push the flesh and sinew aside, bearing organs to the cold air of the operation room.

Watching him work so fast and casually after taking the time to teach you how to do something as simple as cutting skin makes your body run warmer than it should when faced with such a gruesome sight. His bloodied hands gently pry the scalpel from your hands, and you do nothing but observe as he works.

Slicing, pulling, prodding, tearing. You subconsciously lean over further, eyes focused on the way his hands and fingers pry apart the deceased’s organs from one another. If you didn’t have a problem disrespecting the dead, you would say that the Harbinger was doing so almost elegantly.

The previously empty metal platter fills with what looks like bloody chunks of meat as Dottore places each organ in it one by one, hollowing out the upper body. The incision might have been a pinch too small, you think, because you notice some streaks of blood that had already oxidized on the bare skin of his forearms from where he had to reach under the skin to take… whatever it was he grabbed.

You weren’t really paying attention to the organs anymore.

You’re pulled out of your musings when Dottore snaps his fingers to grab your attention. Looking up at him for the first time in what felt like hours, you spot a twinkle of amusement in his carmine gaze.

“Apologies, but I’ve called your name twice and you didn’t react. Is something on your mind?” You blink, swallowing down the embarrassment from catching you red-handed, daydreaming about him—not that he knows that’s what you were thinking about, anyways.

...well, maybe he does.

“No, sir. I was just studying your, um... technique," you cough. "Did you need me to do something?” You feel sweat bead at your temple, nervous that he could somehow see your thoughts.

He nods, the corners of his lips curling up into the faintest smile. “Yes, actually.” Turning his back to you, he shields your sight from the carcass on the table. “Hold your hands out, palms facing up and close your eyes.”

Setting hesitancy aside you follow his instructions, keeping your eyes firmly shut. Now unable to rely on your sight, your ears pick up on the tiniest of noises; you hear the sound of a particularly obscene squelch, followed by a quiet, seemingly irritated hum.

You hear the sound of clothes shuffling mixed with a similarly grotesque, squelch-y noise; as soon as the room fills with silence again, warmth spreads across your palms. You bite back the urge to open your eyes to take a peek. Dottore watches your face carefully, examining every twitch and shiver of your skin with rapt attention.

"You can look now," he hums, a smile hiding beneath his tone.

...Your eyelids suddenly feel super glued shut. Pushing through the nerves, you crack your eyes open, gaze immediately focusing on Dottore's face. He scoffs, amused at your sudden demure change in demeanor and glances down at your hands in silent encouragement.

Slowly peering down, your eyes widen as you gawk at the fresh, large organ in your hands, staining your disposable azure gloves a deep scarlet. You're almost unsure of what you're even looking at—all previous anatomical knowledge having flown right out of the window the second your eyes fell on the wet, goopy mess in your hands.

There are no arteries jutting out from the organ, so a heart is out of the question; it was too big to be one, anyways. It can't be the pancreas either, so maybe a stomach? Or—

"Good thing this isn't an evaluation, huh?" Your gaze snaps upwards to the sound of the Harbinger's mocking but light tone, shoulders squaring in pathetic defense. "You're putting me on the spot," you huff indignantly.

(Thank the Archons the only light in the room was the obnoxious overhead light above the table so the fine changes of your features can go unnoticed.)

Taking a step forward, Dottore swiftly invades your personal space as he brings his hands up to cup your own, not unlike how he held your hands a while ago to guide them. He looks down, and your gaze follow his, hand in hand.

You imagine a pulse. Blood flowing through, hundreds, billions, trillions of cells traversing lobes and segments—imagine that it's part your own body in the palm of your hands, held together by the man before you.

(The horrible, irredeemable man before you. Standing, observing, waiting oh so patiently. And he would wait an eternity if need be, for you have been safe from his hand the moment he shared a part of his humanity with you.)

Ridding your throat of the lump that had formed, you crack a nervous smile. "Is this supposed to be a test, or are you trying to be romantic?"

Returning a ghost of a smile, Dottore raises a brow. "Do you really think this is how I flirt?" he asks with uncharacteristic softness. Bloody, gloved fingers trace mindless patterns along your hand, and goosebumps bloom beneath your skin.

"The liver is often thought of as the source of one's passion," he murmurs. "It is also said to be the seat of life and the soul. While I can't prove nor disprove these claims using scientific research, I have come to understand why people view it as such."

Your hands feel slimy even with the latex barrier between your skin and the large liver in your palms, but with this discomfort comes elation.

"It only took me losing my own to comprehend," he continues quietly. You feel his breath grazing your forehead—it makes you itch and burn with the urge to look up, but you abstain yourself.

Dottore's hands slide up, cupping the sides of the organ, containing it solely to your hold. Long ago had his sights left the mound to gaze at your features. Looking at you wasn't all that dissimilar, after all.

(Thinking hard on his words, you want to ask him to teach you how to give him a liver of your own, next time.)

[funkybatics]

Zandy speed-walking to your room wrapped in his blanket whenever he got nightmares wasn't anything new.

In the beginning, he felt guilty for bothering you in the middle of the night, but ever since you found out the child had bad dreams once in a while, you urged him to come find you no matter what time it was. Thankfully, they had significantly decreased since he met you, but there were still times he woke up scared and sweating, as if flames had nearly licked him. Admittedly, a part of him wished you could sleep in his room every day so it wouldn't happen, but he knew it wouldn't be fair to you.

At first, Zandy would knock on your door and wait for you to open before intruding, but eventually, you managed to convince him to just let himself in and onto your bed. During these instances, you'd wake up to the child cuddling to you, sometimes with Foxttore squished in between. It was healing for both of you. And tonight, Zandy thought as he tip-toed to your room, would be no different. Quietly twisting the doorknob and entering the room, he already felt a bit more at ease, especially at the sight of your silhouette. The boy walked to the bed and began to climb on it when suddenly a hand shot out to grab him, and he was faced with none other than fellow blood-red eyes.

Quickly, Zandy figured out the situation, when he noticed that you were actually on the other side of the bed, this person was none other than Prime Dottore which he didn't realize in the darkness, and that he had accidentally woken him up. It was only natural that Dottore would be woken up at the slightest noise - he had never been a deep sleeper.

But more importantly, the situation had turned awkward once Dottore had removed his grip from the boy, realizing it was just him. Immediately, Zandy tried to shuffle off the bed - he and Prime had been on way better terms lately, no longer being ignored, which was wholly thanks to you - but he was still hesitant to interact without you. But Dottore wasn't going to let him off that easy of course.

"... What are you doing here?" The boy's eyes nervously flitted from your sleeping body to Prime, hoping you'd wake up to get him out of the situation.

"W-Well..." Zandy's voice came out louder than he wanted, "I wanted to... to..." he then drifted off as he tried to think of a reasonable excuse. He could tell Dottore wasn't particularly impressed, moving to get up when suddenly a new voice entered the conversation.

"Zandik, what's wrong?" You yawned as you began to sit up in bed. "Usually, you aren't this noisy when you're sneaking off to go do work instead of sleep-" You stopped your sentence slowly and rubbed your eyes, as you now realized someone else was in the room too. "Zandy? Is that you?"

"Yes..."

"Another nightmare again? Poor thing, come here," you cooed, stretching your arms open. Dottore remained silent but quickly pieced together what happened. Well, it made an awful lot of sense - you somehow always managed to be soothing after experiencing the terrors of the mind. He too remembers the times he rested his chest on your chest after his own nightmares. Logically, when the scholar thinks about it, his child segment's nightmares were probably similar to his too.

However, Zandy didn't seem very certain of the idea anymore, more interested in heading out the door. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before you quickly remembered that Dottore was likely causing his hesitation.

"There's no need to be shy. You can stay, we don't mind," you said softly, moving to the edge of the bed and grabbing both his hands. "Right, Zandik?"

"... Go ahead. There's only a few more hours until I get up, anyway."

"See? Now come here." With only a bit of persuasion, the child was in between the two of you. Well, he was mostly attached to you while Dottore was just on the other side, but it was still sweet. You gently patted Zandy's head as you began yawning again, sleepiness still coursing through you. At that, Dottore pulled up the covers, making sure you (and the child) were warm.

"Good night, Zandy, Zandik..."

"Good night, [Name]... fa-" The word quickly softened and dried up on the boy's lips as he realized that he was still not brave enough for that yet. Zandy swiftly shut his eyes and willed his body to sleep as fast as possible.

A little while later, after Dottore was sure you both had dozed off, he sighed at the sight that was mostly covered in darkness, but he could still make out his child self's body wrapped by your larger one... as well as the rather wide and palpable gap in between his and his segment's.

Briefly turning over, the Harbinger glanced at the time. It would be time for him to return to his work soon, this break only a haven you begged to grant him. Dottore looked back at you, reaching out to caress your cheek, letting out another sigh. He moved his body closer, to where his own was only a little bit from touching Zandy's, and then wrapped a protective arm over you, and by extension, the child.

He would be gone soon enough, anyway - this wouldn't hurt for now.

It was moments like this that made what the future held hurt even more.

[funkybatics]

You've been distant for the last few days. Dottore sends some friends in hopes of getting through to you. (In other words, Dottore has his crow friends deliver some gifts to cheer you up.)

You hadn't been quite yourself as of late, and it was awfully noticeable. It was something Dottore was struggling to adjust to despite the couple of other times it had happened.

For a long time, the scholar had thought he had everything about you within his grasp. He had studied you like the finest sample that had ever landed in his hands to learn as much as could be learned about you, starting from when you two had reached the status of mere acquaintances. He carefully documented everything that could be known about you, from observing your reactions in various situations and then being able to predict what you would do in others (to some extent, you being ever the enigma), to examining every inch of your body. It was an experiment that could make his head hurt at times or his body burst in pleasure.

But when Dottore really thinks back to the time he spent with you at the Akademiya, he realizes that maybe his experiment wasn't as extensive as he first thought, the reason being that he's never truly seen you sad or upset.

Yes, there were times you were tired, or burnt out, or shed a couple of tears over some harsh words from another, but you seemed to bounce back soon enough. Rather, surprisingly enough, he was more vulnerable on that front, still vividly remembering the night he bitterly cried and spat out how that village had wronged him, stiffening at your feather-light touches.

It turns out a few centuries later, that there were always possibilities that even he couldn't account for. Dottore still remembered when you started full-on sobbing in front of him for the first time. He was, naturally, at a loss as to what to do other than hold you.

Logically he had known that your illness wouldn't have been a smooth ride of course, but he still couldn't have been prepared for this. Even if he was, all the preparation wouldn't have been helpful in practice, considering the lump in his throat looking at your shaking form. He wasn't made for this - to be gentle, to be kind, to be patient and understanding.

However, those were just some of the things that you needed. This wasn't a matter of whether he could, it was that he must.

And so, during certain times, the segments had to gently coax you out of bed and clean you up as quick as they could. One dressed you and one fed you whatever your stomach could handle, while another tried to keep your attention with his fantastical stories.

But then there were days when you didn't want to talk at all. You didn't even want to feel Dottore's hands run along your body soothingly, something you always longed for. It was times like these when the all-knowing Harbinger was at a loss. How can he go about helping you if he can't even see you? How could he help his beloved this time, when you've helped him all those years ago?

He would figure it out for you.

—

The beautiful, snowy landscape always seemed to quiet your deafening mind. For some reason, it sometimes got too loud, making your head ache, but seeing snow slip off tree branches and little critters dart around brought some solace to you. Then again, it wasn't like there was much else to do. Even with those, you didn't feel like doing anything actually.

With a sigh, you lowered your head onto your desk and closed your eyes, still burning despite having slept an awful lot last night. Maybe you should head back to bed and hope a sweet dream will bless you. You idly drew with your fingers, tracing the colors of the wood table, eyelids indeed drooping once more when suddenly a loud tap on your window had you shooting straight up.

Immediately, you noticed the ruffle of black feathers with specks of white dust on your windowsill, tapping to be let in.

... Dottore's crow friends? You hadn't seen them in a long time. Upon closer look, there was something in its beak- but another hard tap quickly made you move to open the window. Then, one, two, three, four... five birds hopped in, shaking their feathers and leaving the wetness of snow on your table. Admittedly, seeing these little guys made your shoulders relax a bit. You shut it as fast as you opened it, and turned around to see a murder of crows cawing at you expectantly, wanting to give you the items they held in their beaks already.

One by one, the birds dropped a Rainbow Rose into your palm, the next a Lakelight Lily, then a Lumidouce Bell, and lastly, your favorite, a Sumeru Rose, quite simple compared to the others. They made quite an odd bouquet, meaning there was only one person who could have made it.

You carefully set the flowers aside to retrieve a small box that the last crow held. Pulling at the tiny ribbon, the lid came off and there lay a few tiny yet expensive chocolates and a card with Dottore's signature handing.

"Beloved,

A new and unusual batch of specimens came in recently. Though we typically don't use plants like these, they have their uses in some areas. Regardless, I remember you always wanted to see some flowers from other nations. I chose the ones with the highest quality. I hope they are to your liking."

The silly and sweet gesture made a small smile creep up on your face, especially considering you already knew what the flowers meant.

Passion and love. An eternal promise. The wish for reunion. Home.

You sank down in your chair and popped the sweet into your mouth, the flavor warming your dry mouth. Prodding at the lily's watery bubble, you really were touched. But you just still couldn't face him again. The gentle caws and nudges from the crows made it seem like they somehow understood your feelings. But then the flapping of wings and sudden drop of something catch your attention. A notepad and pen now were in front of you.

"W-What... you think I should write back to him?" A chorus of caws echoed in agreement and encouragement. "I suppose... it's not a bad idea." Swallowing your nervousness, you put pen to paper but you didn't know what to write, the ink blotting the paper. Rubbing your forehead, you thought hard for a while, until you ended up with the most straightforward thing.

"Thank you, Zandik."

Folding the paper, one of the crows clutched it in its beak, ready to deliver the rather short yet meaningful message. After you petted all of them a few times, they were off once again into the snowy land.

—

Only a few minutes later, tapping could once again be heard but at Dottore's office this time. Of course, he'd expected them, and took refuge in the warmth of his room as well as crowding his shoulders and arm. Seeing as their beaks were empty, he knew they had completed this very important mission. But then a poke at his cheek made him see the small paper.

Opening it up, he read the shaky handwriting that spoke of three words, and then placed it in his locked drawer for safekeeping.

—

After quite some time had passed, you finally found yourself able to ask him a question that lingered on your mind.

"So... did you teach them to do that all for lil old me?" Dottore waved your question off as you giggled, then wrapped your arms around him and snuggled into his back.

"Zandik. I... I..." You struggled to finish your sentence due to how many things you could say - 'Thank you for not giving up on me,' 'I'm sorry to weigh you down,' 'I wish I wasn't like this-'.

But then the squeeze of your hands had you gasping back to reality, while Dottore had remained silent. It was his way of saying not to worry yourself with words, so you didn't. Instead, you swallowed back the lump in your throat and rested your head against him.

You can enjoy this moment, without worrying about what kind of days may lie ahead.