#Fatuu Harbingers

[vvluvmai]

𝑭𝑺𝑴 ✩ 𝑮𝑹𝑬𝑬𝑫𝒀 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬

warn. Jealousy, pure fluff, implied fem bodied reader, mentions of feminine nicknames (my lady, etc), slightly ooc pantalone and childe? Mentions diluc Yanqing and childe.

sum. When the both of you are on a date and your friend happens to accidentally bump into you and all of your attention turns to them.

char. Jing Yuan, Kaeya, Pantalone.

wc. 1,981

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ☕︎⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

𝐈 ✩ 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍

It came as a surprise when jingyuan had told you he had called off work for you, this was due to his feeling of you feeling lonely, and unloved.

A day made special just for the both of you, an entire day spent together, roaming around mindlessly, laughing in each other's embrace. It was a stress reliever for him, smiling and laughing till tears came rolling upon his eyes.

As the both of you walked to the restaurant where he had a spot specially reserved for you and him, a friend happened to spot you. Calling out and running to your presence, which successfully made you avert your gaze and attention to your friend, which was Yanqing.

What felt like hours were only a few minutes of talking, enough for jing yuan to glare at Yanqing, hoping it would be enough to make him leave. But all attempts came to no avail.

While he hadn't had the courage to speak due to you looking happier than ever, he wanted time alone with you, for it has been weeks since he has a proper conversation with you.

It took him awhile to build up confidence in order to confront you and him.

"I apologise yanqing but me and my beloved have places to be, I'd highly appreciate if you two would talk after. Would that be alright for you and Yanqing?" He turned to look at you, with the usual calm smile. Hoping you would agree with him. You blinked wide eyed, remembering that the both of you had a date "ah, yes, Me and my darling have a date together!, We may talk another time Yanqing, it was of great pleasure to talk with you." "Oh of course, I shall see you another time then (y/n)!, I gotta say general is a lucky guy to have a pretty lady such as you" he teased for fun, it was a harmless joke, with a shit-eating grin, he left in a hurry before the calmly annoyed could do anything. You chuckled at his jealousy "what, can't handle a few minutes of me talking with my friend?" "Those 'few minutes' felt like three hours.." he mumbled under his breath, loud enough for you to hear. "I suppose we should go, before someone else takes our spot yea?" "Of course my dear."

Safe to say, you made sure to tease jing yuan of the incident that night.

𝐈𝐈 ✩ 𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐀

There the favonius Calvary captain stood, with luxurious clothing adorning and flattering his body, the clothing of fine material shipped from nation to nation. Clothings he only wore on special occasions.

Today, was that special occasion.

A two month vacation off, to be spent with you, his darling, giving him and you undivided attention that the both yearned for since the moment of your relationship. Due to him being loaded with work, affection was less, since he came back tired and sleepy. Which you didn't mind, as long his pretty sleeping face kept you company, you didn't mind. But at times, you need his affection, his loving slick words, to come down and shower your longing soul with the happiness it begs. This he knew of, very well. He wanted to shower you with his grace, his undying love and his embrace, and these two months are gonna be just that.

The day after his vacation began, he had reserved a special location, a beautiful restaurant filled with loving flowers which bloomed and hit everyone with its alluring aroma, the special date places being filled with just the right amount of greenery. A candle at both sides, plates and utensils placed perfectly, with a beautiful, two roses, one light pink, the other red, in a glass. Hugged by each other's thorns and petals.

As he and you walked to the restaurant, a certain red hair happened to bump into the both of you. Apologising, not having the knowledge who it was until his eyes fell upon the two figures. "Ah, kaeya, y/n. A surprise meeting the two of you. What brings you to this restaurant?" He asked, having no intention of getting in between your date. While he did hate chit-chats, he wouldn't mind them on occasions, for today, he was having a surprisingly good day "oh nothing much brother, just treating my lady to a date." He said, his tone teasing as ever. Enough to fluster you "oh shut up" you spoke out of embarrassment.

Soon, both Diluc, you and kaeya had sat down, kaeya looking out the window, arms folded and his leg sitting on his knee. His eyebrows furrowed, annoyed. The small chit-chat had turned to a long convo of who knows what topic, he didn't care for it. All he wanted was to treat you to a long awaited date and now his brother had come in and swooped all you attention from him.

It was soon, well, later, til you realised that the date you had was late as the waiter came to your table, asking for if you would like a glass of water. "Oh no, it's okay sir! I apologise diluc, we could continue this conversation another time hm? I have a date to attend." "Oh of course (name), I apologise if I have made the two of you late." He quickly said, looking at kaeya, who had a scowl resting on his face. He stood as soon as his ears picked up on the words the both of you said. "Yes, yes, I suppose so. See you later, brother." His tone was impatient and annoyed as his eyes looked down upon diluc's.

As you bid goodbyes, kaeya walked you to the elevator, by which was graced by the god's to have no people inside of it. It was gonna be a long ride, since the place he had reserved stood at the very top, where the both of you can gaze the morning sky together. As the doors closed, his hands tugged at your waist, pulling you closer, you looked at him, confuse and naive to kaeya's sad yet calm face "you ought to give me kisses this night." He said, kissing your face and neck with his soft lips. "Awh what did I doo" you moaned, with a smile he oh-so-adores "oh don't act foolish now, you totally just forgot we had a date." He said with a slick and calming voice, not scolding or mad. Simply and slightly upset. "Oh dearie, you know i didn't mean thattt, I got carried away in the conversation, which is, by no means, an excuse, I will be sure to never make the same mistake hm?" Your arms hung loosely around his shoulders, your eyes dreamy and dazed as you took in his prettiness, kissing him. As the kiss broke, you spoke, still dreamy "I can't believe I will have you all for myself for two whole months.." kaeya chuckled as he cupped your face. "Someone clearly can't get enough of me today hm?" "Kaeyaa, don't ruin the moment!"

By the time kaeya could get another word out, the both had reached their destination. "Well that was a short ride." He said, stepping out the elevator. He kneeled half way, taking your hand and bowing "shall we, m'lady?" You let out a chuckle, with a response "of course, gentleman."

𝐈𝐈𝐈 ✩ 𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄

A head rested gently against pantalone's shoulder, eyes closed and a small smile flattering the woman's, his girlfriend, face. Dressed in fine white silk, and jewellery brought by the ever-loving pantalone, laid perfectly on your body. Your hands and body leaned against him, as his arm was wrapped around you, ensuring you got the warmth in the cold car. Which you purposely made cold by turning on the AC, just to use the excuse of being close to your lover.

It was no surprise he had understood this, after all, he is the mighty and intelligent harbinger of the fatuus. The calm and loving moment was cut short as the driver announced you had reached the desired destination. To which pantalone immediately walked out the car, just to come to your side of the car, to graciously open the car door and take your hand to escort you to the palace like dining restaurant. You took his hand in offer, leaving the car and thanking the fatuus driver, as the both of you were walking into the restaurant, you spoke in a gentle soft voice he loved "oh pantalone, how many times must I tell you that you mustn't spoil me with your riches" he had heard these same words several times throughout his relationship with you, chuckling, he responded "my beloved wife shall only have the finest places snezhnaya can offer." He said in his usual velvety voice, used only around you. The little nickname he had used in his nickname had made you blush, little reds creeping up your cheeks. Noticing this, pantalone took up the chance to tease, which was interrupted by someone.. "Regrator! What are you doing here at a time like this?" Annoyed as he understood the voice of the person, who was, his colleague, childe… he spoke in a rather uninterested tone "Just taking my fine lady out for a dinner, I shall be asking the same question for you, tartaglia." His eyes fell upon childe's, which was looking at you, not in a romantic way, but as friend he has known way. "Oh just meeting a friend" not interested in a chit chat, he hadn't responded, but you had. "Oh childe, how must your family be doing? Are they doing fine?" You questioned, "they are quite fine actually, unfortunately I have heard teucer had a little accident while playing, but he will be fine in no time." He responded in the enthusiast tone pantalone hated so much. "That is relieving to hear, I believe we do not have the time to spare for a little chit-chat, would that be right dear?" Pantalone spoke, interrupting your talk, "ah yes, I'm sorry childe but I shall get going, we have a little date here" you giggled, your arms around pantalone's in a married like fashion. "Of course of course, by all means, have fun. I will be going too as well, see you sometime later (name)!" Childe said, waving a bye as he ran out the restaurant in a hurry.

At the hearing of your name slipping out childe's mouth was enough to make him groan, annoyed and dissatisfied. It was only after pantalone had came out from the register, you had teased pantalone about his annoyed face. "Someone's jealous" pantalone rolled his eyes in a playful manner as the both of you stepped into the elevator "I wouldn't say jealous would be the right word.." pantalone grumbled. "Oh then what would be, greedy of his possesion?" You chuckled out, pantalone smirked, the smirk you knew and hated, knowing that he's about to do something to you "pantalone, wait!- wait! No that tickles!" You said as you broke into a fit of giggles and laughter, the moment he stopped, he had kissed you with a sigh. "I feel as if I'm in debt to the Gods for gifting me with a such a gem like you." He sighed out "I feel too that i was blessed with such a wonderful loving husband like you" you said hugging him, as the nickname rolled out your tongue so perfectly.

This he noticed, blushing slightly, he looked away. Murmering loud enough for you to hear "I prefer if you'd call me that again." You slapped him lightly on the chest playfully "oh shut up, husband" he chuckled as he lead you to the single table, with two chairs. And a starry night with the moon sharing it's rays with the couple as the both sat down, enjoying the cold yet warm night.

copyright © @https-y2kcom | all works belong to @https-y2kcom, do not steal, plagiarise, copy, post to other social media without the consent of the original author.

Tags: @mikacynth @kaelily heheh kaeya simps

This is my first fic so pls don't be mean lmao, headers belong to me and are made by me :) art is from the genshin manga website and some are from in game!!

[sunnyy-sunsh1ne]

About Seelies, their Palaces in the Dark Sea & how they're Probably Related to Andrius (TL;DR)

Their palaces are in the Dark Sea, where The Seven have no jurisdiction. They brought wisdom to mankind, & probably so to other entities like the Andrius, "the Wolf the North".

Their palaces are in the Dark Sea, & Enkanomiya is also exactly there, but there was no Seelie civilization there; there were just humans from the Unified Civilization as far as we know. It's quite interesting that the Seelie courts are eroded by the time all around Teyvat, but in Enkanomiya they aren't.

For a while, I used to think that the ruins that are around all Teyvat's surface, were the architecture of the Seelies, but this isn't the case at all bc according to the book "A Drunkard's Tale" the Seelie palaces are in the Dark Sea.

And now that we're talking about the Dark Sea and the "A Drunkard's Tale", there's smth pretty interesting I'd like to mention about...Columbina.

In "A Drunkard's Tale" Vol. 3 we learn the tale about a lone wolf, that once wandered in the a "cruel" wasteland; a place that seems to be far beyond the dominion of Celestia, with the remains of fallen gods and others that escaped there after the archon war, (ex. Orobashi).

According to the tale, once the lone wolf passed by a palace where he heard music. Within there, he found a "fair maiden" using an instrument, with a skin "ashen white" & playing a "long-forgotten and mournful melody".

"The chirping of insects on a long-gone autumn night is the chorus of exiles, singing mankind's most ancient song as they live out their plight..." she sang.

"Stripped of all that the body once held close and the soul once held dear, song and memories are all that now remain of yesteryear."

"The last singers, the first Seelie, they played their final tune in the halls of angels."

The Seelies in the area approached the pale white maiden to listen to her music. The wolf asked about the song to the maiden, and the maiden replied "A song of the Seelie".

"Long, long ago, we wrote this song for the human savages. Yet now, we sing it to mourn our own fate."

This maiden was clearly a Seelie who seems to still maintain her human form, & we're told that Andrius received his powers from an ancient god...could this god be the Seelie from the tale? he has a very icy windy ghostly anemo form, just like Seelies.

The twitter user named @nanbeidou7 also talked about this before me.

Here's a link to a thread she did about the topic.

Link:

I'd like to also talk about a possible mention of a Seelie (maybe even Columbina, asuming that she's a Seelie), in the artifact set "Adventurer" in the "Plume of Death", there's a mention of an adventurer meeting a "girl so beautiful" that even her appearance felt surreal.

And do you all know what else did the girl had? that's right! a cluster of feathers!! the similarities are too coincidental tbh...but who knows! anyone in Teyvat could be incredibly beautiful girl with a cluster of feathers, right?... right??

Sources:

[aromanticasterisms]

i'm cheating [don't have arlecchino yet and am looking at her lines abt the harbingers through hoyowiki] and thank god the harbinger "i hate my coworkers" trend continues + yaay sandrone and columbina crumbs + her line about signora has me in shambles

[eggrollnori]

I heard that the stock character of Dottore could also be a lawyer, so here’s the resulting doodle

Headcannon that Dottore still spaces off a lot, just like his younger segment, so if Capitano hadn’t interacted with him in that video then he’d just spend the whole time in the background, quietly fiddling with the test tube

[moonlit-rabbit]

SVGISVYIAGYIAGOUWVULAGULSGULSV THE FATUI IANSJAHHHHHHHHHH DOTTOREE??? AND PANTALONE??? PANTALONE SOUNDS SO FAMILIAR AHHHHHH IM SCREAMING

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

This isn’t a request but I want to gush about how good your angst/comfort is. It always hits the mark and you’ve come up with so many different possibilities that it’s a pleasure to scroll through your blog every time. Maybe I’m just a cruel person but Childe/Foul Legacy desperately trying to appeal to a hesitant/fearful yn is so delectable, like with the Dottore scenario it’s so 🤌🏼*chefs kiss*

!!!!!!! thank you so much anon!!!! i love fluff as much as any person, but angst especially always makes a story more interesting, particularly when it's something longer!!! i prefer happy endings so it makes it even more fun to have a heart-wrenching conflict and think about the trials the characters will have to go through to get said happy ending!!!!

don't worry, if you're a cruel person than i am too, i looooove that trope so much >:))) i promise i will give a part two to the Dottore scenario (if it's the one i think you're referring to CURSE MY BAD MEMORY) i know it's been a while but it WILL happen hopefully soon!!!

[dutybcrne]

Syvne adores flowers. All sorts, of all shapes and colors. In addition, she likes layering them in a crystalline layer of frost to preserve their beauty. It is a lingering desire from her time as a human, to see and have flowers of all seven nations for her collection, one that still remained, although she knows not why she still feels such a thing.

[loverofsnezhnayanqueen]

I’m going absolutely feral thinking about the Fatui and the Eleven Harbingers. They’re just neat and are doing an excellent job occupying my mind space.

Like, I’ve been obsessed with them since the very beginning. When I first started playing, I felt bad killing a Geo Skirmisher and they’ve held a special place in my heart ever since. Tartaglia was my first (and second) five star, and now the Harbingers have my brain rot at an all time high.

[tigerzreal]

This is a Dragon Ball Account This is a Dragon Ball Account This is a Dragon Ball Account This is a Dragon Ball Account This is a Dragon Ball Account This is a Dragon Ball Account…

[sleepyscara]

good day fatui nation..

dottore had me weak i fucking knew i loved that man WOOF

pantalone is baizhu (THEORY)

pierro is kaeya's dad (THEORY - fight me)

scaramouche is still on top tho ;)

[futurefind]

Oh Celestia there’s two of them—

[sixosix]

YOU'VE RUINED MY LIFE BY NOT BEING MINE | LYNEY

notes this chapter switches from lyney to reader, but you’ll notice right away when it does ^__^ and i also wanted to plug in my hcs of aether sjdkwd, wc 2.1k

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

Lyney has had many embarrassing moments in his life. Everyone has their moments, eventually, and Lyney’s not the type to keep track of all of them. He couldn’t even count them with his hands if he tried—it’d be as long as Lynette’s weekly receipt of sweets.

The first he could remember was performing in front of a live audience. He forgot his lines, cowered across expectant eyes, and fumbled with his tricks, but he didn’t regret it. That experience made him the illustrious magician he is today.

There was a time when Lyney wasn’t too used to you addressing him so directly and face-planted on the floor when you called out his name. 

He used to hear from the other orphans all the damn time: “Aren’t you at least a little embarrassed?” They never understood why Lyney kept returning to you, even after pushing him away. They never got to understand how thrilling it all was. He was just a little kid with an infatuation—why was he supposed to care about everyone else’s second-hand embarrassment?

He never came to regret any of those. He wouldn’t be here right now if it never came to be. 

However, Master Childe standing frozen while Lyney fumbles with not letting you sway all over the place, might start steadily pushing itself towards the top five. Lyney barely dodged as you nearly elbowed him in the face. Graceless in every form in front of the 11th Harbinger.

You use Lyney to prop yourself up and whip around. “Where’s Lord Tartaglia?”

Master Childe pushes the door open, his silhouette like some angel coming down to say he will tell on ‘Father’ about Lyney hoisting the runaway Fatuu. Political-ness aside, it already looks bad enough that you’re drunk, and he’s dragging you. You hiss like some sort of vampire, and Lyney dutifully shields you from the light. Would it be rude to order Master Childe to fetch glasses of water?

“My head,” you groan.

“I’m sorry,” Lyney says, brushing hair away from your face. “Do you want to lie down?”

You’re not given a chance to lie down nor reply as Childe points a finger in Lyney’s direction.

“Hey, you,” Master Childe says, and Lyney blinks a little fearfully, spine ramrod straight. “I know you. You’re one of the orphans in the House, right?”

“What are you doing here, Master Childe?” Lyney asks, hopefully still conveying his respect.

“Well, the Northland Bank wouldn’t mind some wealthy connections,” Childe says proudly. “And one of the special guests here owes something to the Fontaine Branch.”

“You also know me, Tartaglia,” you chime in, stumbling around and revealing your face to him, wasted as hell.

Lyney holds his breath as Childe’s expression blanks. “Do I?” Childe asks indulgently.

“One of your subordinates!” you exclaim petulantly, as if sulking Childe hasn’t given you the same treatment he gave Lyney.

Childe turns sheepish. “I’m not too familiar with all of them.”

Lyney can’t tell if he’s disappointed or relieved. Instead, he brushes it off and focuses on your well-being. “Y/N, do you think you can walk on your own?”

“Of course I can,” you say, then wobble when Lyney tests it. “W-Wait—”

“Wait,” Childe says, too. “You’re Y/N?”

“Duh.” You sniff.

Lyney smiles. “Please forgive her.”

Childe’s expression does something complicated. “I’m not that good with faces. I do know you—I assigned you here.”

Something about that feels wrong to Lyney, but he’s not given any chance to think too deeply about it when Childe looks as if he is about to reach out to you. Lyney pulls away and takes two steps back when Childe raises his hands. The Harbinger blinks in confusion.

Lyney’s guard is up. “I-I’m sorry—”

Childe lifts his hands in surrender. “I don’t know what you think of me, but I assure you I’m not that kind of person..”

Lyney winces. There goes his first impression on the 11th Harbinger—disrespectful and maddeningly shameless. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to insinuate I thought of you that way, sir.”

Master Childe laughs. “It’s fine. It’s my fault for coming off like that. Do you need help?”

This is definitely beyond rude. You sway on your feet when Lyney moves. “Mon lapin here could really use a glass of water.”

“I feel like I’m going to throw up,” you announce. Lyney and Childe, positions be damned, share the same fearful look.

Thankfully, the aristocrat’s floor was safe from the assault of your breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but the bushes outside the mansion couldn’t share the same sentiment. Lyney and Childe had a moment of silent agreement to keep quiet about this matter if they suddenly wilted.

“Does the lady need any more help?” Childe asks. He’s actually nicer than Lyney expected and even younger than they say when up close. He's less intimidating when he’s not standing across with his features darkened by the light flooding from behind—that was certainly nightmare fuel.

“No!” you exclaim. “I can go home myself,” you say, still slurring your words.

“I’m not letting you do that,” Lyney says, helplessly charmed.

“You should,” you argue, then look a little green again. “Uh oh.”

Childe takes an instinctive step back. “Are you going to throw up again?”

“No, my head,” you whine pitifully. Lyney wishes he could pull that migraine out with his bare hands, but he also finds your expression right now a little hilarious.

Lyney pinches your cheek. “I told you to lay off the alcohol.”

“Did you not want to kiss me because you were scared I would throw up in your mouth?” you ask Lyney.

Lyney freezes, eyes wide. “You’re still on to that? How much do you remember?”

He wants to ask you a million questions when you’re finally not acting so skittish, but he finds that he can’t. He realizes he hasn’t seen you like this before—not hostile or wary of him. You look nice, like everything was before it was ruined. And there was also how you willingly wanted him to kiss you.

As you press against him, Lyney watches as you deflate like a balloon faced with a needle. You sigh softly, then bury your face against his neck.

“You’re so warm,” you murmur to his skin.

Goosebumps blossom all over his body. Your face brushes against the side of his neck. “Do you hate it?”

“I like it. My hands are cold. Every part of you is warm.”

“Would you like me to warm you up?”

“Mhm. Thanks.”

This is so unfair. Lyney wants to bury his face in your hair and hide there, hoping you’d cling to him forever like this. But that won’t happen in this lifetime or any other one. (He doesn’t pry you off in this lifetime, however.)

The grand entrance doors slide open. Lynette emerges from the party with a tentative look on her face. She swiftly rushes over to Lyney, then is visibly startled when she notices Master Childe still hanging around.

Oh. Right. Why the hell is Master Childe still here?

Lynette bows her head, addressing their superior. He laughs and waves it off like he’s no one important in the streets. His sister turns to him, whispering, “Lyney, ‘Father’ is looking for us. She’s asking for us right now.”

Lyney’s skin crawls. “What? Why now?”

She shakes her head, her eyes flicking back and forth between you and Childe. “I’m not sure. She wasn’t supposed to come this early.”

Lyney frowns, glancing down at you. “I can’t just…”

“We can’t bring her there with ‘Father’ in, too,” Lynette murmurs. Lyney curses, knowing she’s right.

“What’s wrong?” you ask from where you’re pressed against Lyney. “Oh! Hi, ‘nette!”

“Hello, Y/N,” Lynette says warmly. It seems fondness for Y/N runs in the family. “Do you have anywhere to go to? May I ask where it is?”

“Yes, of course I do!”

Lynette looks over to Lyney. “I don’t think this is going to work.”

Lyney, as much as he hates to, glances back at Childe, who is, unfortunately, and fortunately, still standing there.

“Good idea,” Lynette praises, seemingly catching on to what Lyney is thinking.

“That’s her boss,” Lyney says, instinctively shielding you from him. “What if she gets fired because of this?”

“She won’t be,” Lynette says. “And I’m sure that Master Childe would at least make sure Y/N is somewhere safe before he leaves. And right now, we have to do that, too.”

Lyney doesn’t want to, but he doesn’t trust showing you to ‘Father’, too. It’s been too long—he doesn’t know what ‘Father’ would think of you, and her decisions happen in a split-second.

“Lyney,” Lynette says, in the tone of Let’s not keep ‘Father’ waiting.

Perhaps Lyney really isn’t thinking straight himself. “Master Childe?” Lyney calls out. He takes a deep breath and says, “We are in your debt.”

You wake up to a pounding headache and realize that Aether’s hair glows in the dark when fully blacked out. You had an inkling when it looked like Aether was illuminated at night, but seeing it up close is startling.

“Holy shit! Aether, your hair!” You sit up but belatedly regret it when the migraine returns to full force. “Holy shit,” you say again, for a different reason this time.

“Stop swearing,” Aether sighs, looking alien as he moves and speaks like a human being, yet his hair radiates light like the sun—literally. “Can we pull the curtains open?”

“Nooo,” you sob. “I want to sleep again. It hurts.”

“Paimon, if you will.”

The fairy salutes and shows no sliver of mercy as you’re ravaged by sunlight piercing your eyes. It feels like all your cells are screaming in protest. Or maybe you’re the one screaming.

“Huh,” Aether says thoughtfully. “Just as I suspected. You’re wearing the same shade of lipstick.”

You don’t care about your lips right now. Thinking about how dry your mouth is has you wanting to throw up. “What does that even mean?”

Aether ignores it. He’s starting to act like a stern, disappointing mother. “Do you remember what happened last night? Imagine my surprise when I see Childe sneaking in my teapot, carrying you like a passed-out damsel.”

Memories of last night flashed behind your eyelids, most of them featuring the 11th Harbinger, and your blood runs cold. “Oh no.”

“He’s still here, and he’s asking to talk with you.”

Your cells haven’t stopped screaming; they’re scattering around in panic. You certainly feel as if you’re being jostled around. “I think I’m going to throw up again.”

Pitying you, Aether reaches from the bedside desk and hands a glass full of water that’s delightfully the perfect temperature. But apparently, he doesn’t pity you enough to not drag you out of bed.

You didn’t understand what Aether meant when he said Teapot, but while on the way to where Childe was resting, Paimon explained that you were all walking in a floating teapot hanging around somewhere in some corner of Fontaine. Faintly, you wondered if you were still drunk.

Master Childe is all sprawled legs on the living room couch. He senses your presence right away, waving with a bright smile.

“I think I did pretty well last night, comrade.” Childe flashes a grin to Aether, who rolls his eyes. “They didn’t question anything!”

“It’s because you’re their superior.” Aether turns to you, plucking the empty glass from your shaky fingers. “Sit beside them. I have something to ease your migraine.”

You could cry. Instead, you obediently sit beside the feared and renowned 11th Harbinger, moving as stiff as a board.

“Hey.” Childe tilts his head as he studies your face. “You look pale.”

“Sir!” You bow, then promptly start retching.

Chidle laughs, “Calm down, calm down. You don’t have to be so formal. You spoke easily last night.”

“I was drunk,” you murmur, face heating up. You couldn’t recall how easily you spoke to him last night—it’s all a blur. Thinking too hard about it has you dizzy.

“Loosen up then. You’re a friend of the Traveler, aren’t you? That makes us comrades, too.” Childe sinks into his seat, grinning. “I already got the gist of the situation. I gotta say, that’s dangerous deceiving the Arlecchino, of all people.”

“If it involved Teucer, wouldn’t you do the same?” Aether chimes in, entering the room, holding a tray with three glasses.

Chidle guffaws, “Fair enough!”

Paimon settles beside you, looking as alien as Aether earlier by sitting down. Your drink looked different from Paimon’s and Childe’s, but you reasoned that Aether still needed your intel to not poison you.

“It wasn’t part of the agreement to have to see my subordinates canoodling, though,” Childe says offhandedly. “Your boyfriend was like a leech.”

“Lyney is not my boyfriend,” you say automatically.

Childe laughs at first, but it dies down seeing your confusion.

“Oh,” he says. “Oh.” He turns to Aether, who nods sagely, world-weary.

imagine: lyney returning to the bench he left you and childe on, seeing that you’re both gone, and exclaiming FUCK

notes omg its been a while……….How is everyone!!! sorry i know this is so short but im just glad i finally update after like?? nearly a month and a half?? 😭😭😭 tbh im not too proud of this chapter but i cant tell if its bc its been so long or if its bc its actually badjhfkjd EITEHR WAY THANK YOU FOR REAADDINGGG

TAGLIST.

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[lustlovehart]

Hi!! I have never requested anything before, so I really hope that I am doing this right!! So I have been thinking about Scaramouche and reader having a secret relationship. One day they are making out in his office (still kind of sfw) and just before it gets too steamy, a subordinate knocks on the door and they both have to act like nothing happened with flushed faces 🤭🤭

I really hope that you get what I mean😭 It would be very nice, if you accepted this request!!/nf Thank youu!!!!!!!!

A/n: Coincidentally enough, I actually had something in my wips with this same prompt. Also, I may have gone a biiitt away from the exact request, but I think I still kept most of what you wanted!!

Summary: Sometimes the two of you are too absorbed with eachother to notice what surrounds you.

Warnings: Extremely Suggestive but no explicit NSFW, marking, like one sentence of angst

People in the fatui talk, there is no doubt about that in your mind. They don’t exactly try to hide their whispers, nor do they try to to disguise their gossip. All they can truly do is protect what leaves their mouth with the thin barrier of their hand covering what they say. Though, there has been one topic of note that every fatuus has been spouting as of recently,

“Are any of the harbingers in a romantic relationship??”

"Not sure... They seem to be very focused on the work the Tsaritsa bestows upon them."

"You're right... Though, it would be interesting, dont you think?"

Your hand immediately slams onto the harbingers expensive wooden desk, an attempt to catch yourself before you fall onto the hard flooring. Your neck is bent toward the left, allowing the man in front of you easy accesses to the area.

"Kuni.... Could you not wait... Ha... Until you're off the job...?" Your fingers are intertwined with his violet strands, his own hands in turn roaming up and down your body, wrinkling your uniform.

His lips pop off your skin, the feeling of wet salvia being felt. You can't see it, but if you did you're sure it would be extremely noticeable.

"Why would I wait? We can just do it now."

The two of you are only meant to collect paperwork for an upcoming exchange with another fatui branch, you have no idea how this had came to be.

His left arm reachs to your bottom, hoisting you up onto the surface of the table, his other hand wiping any items on the top to the floor, loud clangs echoing through the room.

"Don't you need those? What if they're broken...?"

"Don't focus on that, pay attention to me. Besides, my budget is enough to cover it anyway."

Right, Fatui Harbinger... Rich. His fingers grip onto the back of your head pulling you into him as his mouth immediately connects to your own. You're sure you can feel literal static surrounding the two of you as your lips lock against on another.

To him, though his body might not be human, every feeling you give him is enough to make him feel truly alive. If he had the choice to choose between you and godhood, he's sure he wouldn't know what to pick.

It doesn't matter now though, if he has you, he's sure life for him won't be as pitiful as it once was.

When you try pulling away from the exchange his lips follow you like magnets, it's only when you push away with more force does he remember that you need air, unlike the vessel he holds with a limitless lung capacity.

Your forehead is rested against his as you pant, a thin line of saliva still connecting the two of you, the man's hands is still groping at whatever piece of skin he could reach, a laugh leaving his throat as he looks at the flustered state you're in.

"What? Couldn't keep up with me?"

"Be... Haa... Be quiet..."

"What was that? I'm gonna need you to speak up [Name], my mechanical ears can't hear you."

You were getting tired of his comments, immediately pulling him in for more while his finger rush to take your shirt uniform off you.

Once he had taken it off, he didn't seem to care where it landed, only throwing it somewhere random in the open space.

His hands creep up your legs, ready to undo whatever you were wearing down there as well.

Since you had only expected to grab some documents, it seemed the thought of locking the door had completely escaped you.

"My Lord! The Regrator is currently asking for you-"

Your hands immediately fly up to save any dignity you have left of yourself, Scaramouches arms doing best he can to cover your body.

"Out."

It seemed the soldier was in shock, as his eyes could only keep between the two completely embarrassed individuals, one of them being half naked.

"Did you not hear me? I said leave." You're sure the subordinate saw him in a horrifying light, but looking at him up close you could easily tell just how red his face is, even despite having no blood circulation.

"Of- Of course my lord! I will be waiting outside!" He immediately dashed through the door a loud slam bouncing off the walls.

When you look back at him as his fingers pinch the his nose bridge, an obvious agitated look spread across his face.

-----

"Were you not taught by your caretakers to knock on doors before you open them? No... Maybe they're just as incompetent as you are."

Though your clothes were haphazardly put back on, you still stood by the harbingers side as he demeaned the fatuus, smoothing out any wrinkles your uniform had.

"Forgive me my lord..."

To be honest, you wouldn't have gone with the man, if it weren't for the fact you're sure he would obliterate the soldier if you weren't there.

"So... Are you and [Name] together-?"

"Continue talking if you wanna be sent back home in a coffin."

Though harsh words keep leaving his esophagus, you can still notice the vibrant red spread around his face when he replies.

------

"Good job not electrocuting the guy Kuni."

"Who says I'm not gonna do It on another date?"

"If you don't we can pick up where we left off when we get to my house."

"Ha, if that's what you really want."

[liliewrites]

Here's another brainrot for you. Your an adventurer (famous or not is up to you) stationed in Fontaine & you just got an mission to you know...stop some Fatui agents from disrupting the peace or something. So since you became an adventurer in the 1st place for the thrill, the mission was accepted by you. You go blazing into the fatui camp and like take them out (lets assume like theres at least 15 people there). Arle was just watching everything from a cover (which you obviously don't notice) & knocks you out after the whole fight. So arle was really impressed by you cus like you took out the entire camp & she wants that strength for herself. You were really stubborn about not betraying the guild & joining the fatui so arle decided to rail you into submission cus like torturing you is not gonna help in the long run.

NSFW transfem! Arle please.

Also, can I be 💫anon? So that you know its me next time XD. I am too shy to NOT ask as anonymous.

okkk HIIIII 💫 ANON!!:3 here's ur rqst hope u eat it up good, it has a small little sprinkle of jealous arlecchino to spice it up a little..

-warning/s : NSFW, transfem! arlecchino x fem! reader, lightly dark content, dubious consent, blowjob.

(men and minors dni utc!)

"take care out there, ranger!"

you waved your guildmates goodbye, heading off to the north to disband a nearby fatui camp as the agents there have been causing chaos within the area recently. you were scouting the area, when you saw the said camp.

it was fairly small, but with around a dozen to fifteen agents present.

you let out a sigh, hoping they would cooperate lest this would end up a mess like last time you've done similar missions to these.

you slowly approached the camp, a nervous and awkward smile on your face. "hello there, fellows!" you exclaimed, hands near your weapon, but not on it, in hopes that no aggression would occur.

"oh? what's a pretty little lady like you doing out here in the wild?" one of them snickered, and you instantly knew this wouldn't end up peacefully like you hoped. still, you tried. "uhm, well, this pretty little lady is respectfully asking you to please go away." you told them, oh, but they persisted. one of them even grabbing your wrist with a perverted grin. "well, i'm afraid we'll have to decline. especially when we've caught prey as good as you."

needless to say, you immediately grabbed your weapon and started kicking their ass. they were all caught off guard, but had immediately started coming after you one after another. "damn it, what in the hells are you all doing!? that's just one girl!" one of them exclaimed, frustrated at the fact that you were able to knock half of the camp out alone.

little did you know, a certain harbinger was supervising your little fight with the fatuus. she was also surprised at the fact at how easily you were taking down trained fatui, and she wanted you.

after taking down the last of those annoying perverts, you dusted off your hands and double checked yourself for injuries and your items.

the harbinger however, had come out of your hiding spot, silent steps approached your oblivious ass.

and the next thing you knew, all you saw was black.

"what the.. what the hell?"

you opened your eyes, barely aware of what had just happened before you passed out, but upon realizing that your hands were tied and you were stuck to a chair. you realized you were knocked out.

"oh, finally awake?"

a voice that belonged to a woman echoed behind you, along with loud clacking of heels, and lo and behold.

before your eyes stood the 4th of the fatui harbingers, arlecchino the knave.

you'd be a liar if you said your knees weren't shaking. that was the arlecchino, standing before you, right in front of you, just a few meters away! you were no match for the harbinger, and you feared for your life. scared that you might've angered her for wrecking a whole camp of fatui, shit, what if those were her soldiers? you thought.

"tsk. calm down. i did not bring you all this way to kill you. if that was my intention then i would have done that right then and there."

she told you, probably noticing how nervous you were from your silence. usually, people would've been screaming for help, but you weren't.

".. then, why am i here?"

you asked, calmly, trying not to look too scared. "i've witnessed your fighting prowess, how you took down those agents in mere minutes. those agents were trained for years under the regime of fatui military, with strict discipline and harsh conditioning." she walked towards you, a curious gaze settled upon you, besides that though, her expression was hard to read. you couldn't tell if she was angry? upset? sad?

"- and you made those solders look incompetent, stupid and weak. i commend you."

her answer wasn't one of your expected reactions from her. her expression was still deadpan and you couldn't tell if she was pleased or happy, but judging from her words alone you could at least say that.. she was satisfied with your performance? "thank you, uhm.. miss harbinger?" was all you could say, unable to really make out what her intentions were.

"perhaps you wonder why i took you here, little lady."

she walked closer to you, rough, dark blackened hands approached your face and gently caressed your skin. you noticed how cold the knave's hands were, and your curiosity was piqued as you started to wonder why her hands were like.. that.

it could've been considered an honor to be praised by a harbinger, but to be asked to join their side was completely something else. "no offense and with all due respect, miss arlecchino, but i will not leave the guild." you told her, all of the fear you felt was gone and you wanted to make it clear to her that you didn't want to join. "tsk, you are held captive and yet you still have the will to say no?" she grumbled, finally showing at least one expression on her face- annoyance.

"- it is because i want you to join us, join me, under the house of the hearth."

"EXCUSE ME WHAT?"

"i do not care where i am, but i will not leave the guild."

you stood your ground, nor longer were you afraid for your life, but for your friends and loved ones at the guild. "fine. it is your choice, but do make sure that you wrap your pretty little head around my words-- you will not leave this place safe, not until you agree with my offer. make your choice, or you'll regret making me impatient." she told you, tightening the ropes around your wrists and ankles, making your skin slowly start to burn but you stuck to your resolve. arlecchino left the room, and this was only the beginning of her trying to convince you to give in.

at first, you were starved for 2 days, with each time that you reject her offer she ends up slapping you on the face. today was the third day, you were hungry and light-headed. you swear you could feel like you were slowly slipping away from sanity as from spending so much time in solitude. your body was sore from being tied to a chair for 2 whole days without food nor water and you swear there were rope burns on your wrist and ankle.

arlecchino however, realized that starvation wouldn't make you crumble, much to her annoyance. this was not her usual preferred method of torture, thinking it was a waste of her time, she didn't like to wait and would prefer to end things swiftly. oh, but you, much to her annoyance, she didn't want to waste the talent that you had. she couldn't resolve to physical pain or she might accidentally inflict injuries that might hold you back from improving so she had to resort to slowly destroying your will, but she didn't expect you to be this stubborn. so she had to resort to the last method she could think of- fuck, she cursed under her breath. she may not admit it, but besides wanting to have you as a useful little helper, you may have caused her to have desires she never thought she'd have. it was a nuisance to her, but she couldn't get it off her mind-- she couldn't get the thought of using you like a slut out of her mind.

arlecchino walked back into the room, untying you and you were puzzled, "w-what are you going to do to me?" you asked, alarmed from her sudden behavior. you tried to struggle and squirm as she got you off the chair, but you could barely even stand on your own. "pathetic. so much for being a feisty little mouse." she mumbled, placing a collar on you and tying the leash on the wall. your ankles were freed but her hands were tied. "you've wasted plenty of my time with your reluctance to obey, little lady. don't you think it's about time that i finally teach you some manners, hm?" she placed her hand on your head, forcefully pushing you down on your knees. she unbuckled her pants. your heartbeat started to accelerate. no, no, she wouldn't do what you thought she would, right?

"open that pretty little mouth of yours."

she commanded, but you kept your mouth close as she pulled down her pants. "tsk, stubborn little mouse." she harshly squeezed your face, pulling you forward. "not going to follow? too stupid to understand instructions? fine then." she untied the leash, instead wrapping it around her hand before walking to the chair where you were tied to.

"i'll give you options, little mouse. either you learn to obey and i will reward you, or you will be forced to obey and i will continue to isolate you in this room."

you sat there, weighing your choices. should you comply? should you disobey? but you really wanted to get out of this dark, isolated room. arlecchino clicked her tongue, tugging on the leash.

"hurry up, little mouse, before i lose my patience and decide for you."

she huffed, and you know you've really got no choice here than to follow. with tears in your eyes, you slowly crawl forward, making her tug on the leash. "faster, you're too slow." she grumbled, making you approach her faster.

as soon as you were on your knees, right in front of her, you put your hand on her lap and stared at the intimidating bulge in her pants. you slowly pulled down her pants, along with her underwear.

your eyes widened at the mere sight of her dick, she was at least 7 inches-- and you were going to take that in your mouth? "very good, you're finally putting some sense in you." she praised you, her other hand now making it's way to your head, lightly pressing some weight downwards. "now suck." she commanded, and you didn't want to, you took some time before you leaned down- and it ticked her off.

she pushed down on your head, making you forcefully sink down onto her dick. "i said do not make me wait, obey if you want me to be nice." she warned you as you choked on her, and then she released her grip on your head. "go on, please me. show me that you if you cannot be of help in the battlefield, at least be good at something."

throwing away all your dignity and pride, you lifted your head up, your tongue running along her dick as you did so, before going back down all the way to the base. your actions made arlecchino shiver and she looked down at you with a dark stare, but said nothing.

you repeated this, bobbing your head up and down, and you could hear small little grunts from her. as you went up this time, your tongue ran over the tip, making her groan. you went down, angling yourself so it hit the back of your throat this time. oh, you felt arlecchino shiver. ".. hm, what a slut. you're surprisingly good at this." she told you, now gently grabbing your head and setting the pace. she bobbed your head a bit more faster, but you kept up with your tongue movement earlier. her grunts were becoming louder, but she was becoming more rougher too.

she pushed your head down and pulled on you with no remorse, like you were a toy for her pleasure only. you almost choked, the pace was becoming too fast for you, but she was already thrusting her hips into you. loud groans could be heard from her along with your whimpers and moans at the way she tugged on your hair and used you. she was trembling, her hips stuttering, and before you knew it-

she pulled you off, your lips creating a pop sound. "strip, dear." she commanded, staring down at you with half lidded eyes as she panted. oh, oh no. you didn't want to, but you were determined to see this through and not anger her. you slowly took off your clothes, leaving you only in your underwear. she now, gently took you in her hands, pulling you down on her lap to sit with your back facing her. "darling, open your legs." she purred in your ear. compared to earlier, she was much more gentler and affectionate. you closed your eyes in pure embarrassment, her hand cupping your breast as she spread soft kisses on your neck.

"tsk, those fatui soldiers.. must you know, that even after you've beat them up- they continue to speak about you. incessant chatter about your body, it makes my blood boil."

she whispered against your skin with a tone of possessiveness dripping from her words. her hands gently massaging the mounds of your breast, making you let out soft moans. "they do not know that beneath the orphanage, i hold you captive and that i am the one holding you, not them." as she let go of her words, she started to suck and bite on your skin, her other hand trailing down your tummy as she spoke. "i am not better than them, i am aware.. but i will certainly give you more what they can, my dear. join me, and i will make all of your dreams come true." her gentle words were accompanied with her hand ghosting against your clit, breath grazing against the sensitive marks on your skin, and her other hand squeezing your chest. your mind was hazy, you felt overstimulated, and all you could do was nod. you may not be aware, but arlecchino was overjoyed with your answer. "so wet, little mouse.."

she slowly pulled your underwear off, lifting your hips with only her strength, then kissing your back. she slammed you back down, her dick forcing it's way inside of you. the sheer pain was enough to bring you back to your senses and you gripped onto her lap as you let out a whine. your reaction made arlecchino feel guilty, she immediately wrapped her arms around you. "shh, shh.. i'm sorry, my dear but.. bear with me." she wiped away the tears from your eyes.

"i promise, now that you are mine darling, i will give you all the pleasures in the world.."

[glimmeringtwilight]

Gilded Cage (Part Three)

ok. i'm not going to try to come up with a clever name for this one, this is just. part three. please send an ask or a DM if I missed any CW's! been a while.

Pairing(s): Dottore/Reader, Pantalone/Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

CW: NSFW, drugging (painkillers and other ment), rough sex, biting, threats of mutilation (mild. but it's Dottore), yandere themes, noncon/dubcon, AFAB reader, overstimulation, humiliation

Dottore has been on edge lately. 

You can tell. You can see it in his jaw when he’s sedating you as you lie on the operating table, eyes burning and dark as he stares through you at something presumably only he can see. You can see it in the way his hand sometimes twitches slightly– which bodes terribly for you– as he makes a small incision into your thigh, or your stomach, or your arm.

Most of the time, you think he just cuts into you simply because he can. Because he likes to watch the blood welling from the wound, dripping down your skin. He’s been doing it a lot more lately, sometimes forgetting to sedate you, sometimes forgetting to give you something for the pain, sometimes cutting too deep.

It feels like there’s a storm brewing that you can’t see; curtains drawn so you can’t look out the window and see the magnitude, brace yourself for wind or rain.  

His clones seem to be affected by it, too; usually it’s only ever the younger clones of his that lash out, but even the supposedly older ones are starting to show signs of agitation. You haven’t seen the same test subject twice in what feels like weeks. All of them seem to enter and leave the lab only once– something that should horrify you more than it does, whenever you watch them wheeling the covered bodies past. 

It’s this way for weeks. Dottore stalks around his lab like a harbinger of death, practically oozing poison and malice despite the deceptively calm mask he dons. 

You find out what it is that’s been agitating him when he opens the door to your cell one morning. Not a clone. Not the occasional trembling Fatuus. Him. His eyes burn into you. You can’t make out the emotion in them, but the complete coolness in his expression makes your stomach sink. You wonder, briefly, if he’s going to finally kill you– would that be a mercy, at this point? Killing you? Perhaps not. Knowing him, he’d draw it out. Make it hurt. 

Still, despite the terror that curls its fingers around your throat, you follow him quietly out of the cell and into the lab, staring at the back of his head as you walk and wishing you could read minds so you could at least brace yourself for whatever this is.

The two of you enter the lab and you finally realize what it is that’s crawled under Dottore’s skin, sat at the desk in the corner as though he’s not terribly out of place in the sterile environment. 

Pantalone sits comfortably in one of the chairs near the desk Dottore rarely seems to use, smiling as though he’s received a warm welcome and a parade. Dottore, meanwhile, looks palpably annoyed as he strides past the banker and takes a seat behind the desk, motioning for you to follow. 

It’s… Intensely uncomfortable, to say the least. You rarely find yourself sitting at Dottore’s desk, considering the doctor usually prefers to be conducting experiments rather than sitting and compiling data; he usually delegates that to his clones, who bitch and moan about the boring task. 

So sitting in a chair, next to the two men who’ve each held you captive at different points, as Dottore practically radiates anger… You don’t know what to do. You fold your hands in your lap, avoiding looking at either one, even as you can feel the two of them just… staring. 

You feel like you’re under a microscope, worse than any other time before when you’d been laid out on the operating table under Dottore’s invasive prodding.

Pantalone speaks first, breaking the charged silence. 

“I take it you don’t mind if I verify that this one’s real,” He says, rising from his chair and smiling at the way Dottore visibly bristles. “After all, I’m paying for this, aren’t I? I deserve that much.”

It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking about you, and the demeaning way in which he’s referring to you as though you’re some object that might be counterfeit is both unnerving and irritating. You’re careful not to let it show on your face as Pantalone approaches you. 

“What-” You start to ask, but you’re swiftly interrupted by gloved fingers prying open your mouth, prodding around in search of something that isn’t there. You feel them press down on your tongue, ghost over molars, then press against the back of your throat until you gag. 

Somewhat satisfied, the banker pulls his fingers from your mouth and grips your chin firmly with a now-damp glove, turning your head this way and that and ignoring the obvious discomfort painted on your features as the action smears drool on your skin. What is he doing?

You shoot a glance towards Dottore, who is still just watching. He’s obviously pissed– you can see a vein popping in his forehead, belaying his anger on his otherwise blank face. 

Pantalone lets go of your chin in favor of grabbing you by the arms, pulling you up from your chair and motioning for you to spin around in a circle. You do, though you’re still confused, unsure of what’s happening as the banker seems to be appraising you like a precious gem. It’s a different type of poking and prodding than Dottore’s usual tests and checkups, but it’s invasive nonetheless. It’s doubly unsettling that this is the first time you’ve seen the banker without his usual smarmy smile. 

Hands find your shoulders and stop you again, and you bristle when they trace the curve of your spine, exposed thanks to the open back of the hospital gown. You feel them stop, tap something just to the left of one of your vertebrae, and Pantalone spins you back around to face him, clearly pleased. 

You try not to flinch when he takes a lock of your hair in his hands– it’s gotten so long since you’d been brought back to the lab– and brings it closer to his face. His nose crinkles, palpable disgust on his features, and he mutters something about “that vile soap he makes you use”– likely referring to Dottore– before turning around to face the man in question. 

“Are you done ogling?” Dottore asks, his tone clipped. You can’t see him around the banker, but you’re sure he still looks as pissed as before. 

Pantalone tilts his head slightly, smiling, then glances over his shoulder at you. “Perhaps not yet, but I’m satisfied enough for now. You’ll get the funding for your little… project, and I expect to see this one at my doorstep every other month from now on.”

Every other month? You frown. Is this some sort of… custody arrangement that the two men worked out? You don’t know if you want to laugh or not at the absurdity of it all; like you’re the unfortunate child of two divorced bastards, except this is much, much worse.

“Fine,” Dottore grits out, in a tone that suggests it’s anything but. He gets up to shoo the banker out of his lab, but Pantalone merely tuts and makes his way back over to where you’re standing, confused, and rests one hand heavily on your shoulder.

“One month starting today, of course,” Pantalone continues, “It’s only fair, after all, when you’ve been hoarding my poor pet this whole time. I have to make up for lost time, after all.”

He delivers those words with a smile that only seems to irritate Dottore further, red eyes boring holes into him as Dottore visibly seems to be contemplating murder. Pantalone speaks up again before he does anything, however, offering a hollow consolation: “Of course, I’m not cruel. How about a farewell? A parting gift, to… tide you over while they’re gone?”

You don’t like the sound of that, and Dottore seems to pick up on the banker’s suggestion as you’re spun around once more and ushered towards the exam table you’ve become intimately familiar with for the last several months. 

For this supposedly being Dottore’s “parting gift,” Pantalone is awfully remiss to keep his hands– and commentary– to himself. 

“Ah, what a cute noise that was,” You hear him coo, a finger tapping your nose with just enough force to startle you so you flinch, “Don’t you think you’re being a bit rough though, Doctor?”

“Quiet.”

You jostle against the table, gripping the edge of it for support as hips snap into yours with bruising force. Dottore’s fingers are gripping your hips so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave bruises– that’s probably the point, honestly; he’s fucking you like he intends for you to feel it for the entire month you’ll be absent. 

Pantalone’s comments aren’t helping things either; despite the banker’s comment about roughness, it only seems to have encouraged the doctor to go even harder. 

Thankfully, you were given something for the pain, but not from Dottore. Pantalone had pressed a pill into your gasping mouth when Dottore had started, telling you that you were going to need it, and though swallowing was a struggle, you’re glad he did. 

Dull pain and sharp pleasure mingle together, and you’ve long since lost track of the orgasms that have been dragged out of you. You’re starting to numb, honestly, overstimulation bleeding into pain, and you gasp into the table with every sharp thrust into you. 

“Tsk– don’t pass out now,” Pantalone chides, fingers curling around your jaw and biting into your cheeks when your eyes threaten to flutter shut, and Dottore snarls something about cutting your spinal cord if you do; something you sincerely hope is an empty threat, given the black spots dancing in your vision. “You still have another thirty minutes to go.”

You don’t remember there being a timer set, much less a time limit, but you certainly know you can’t last that much longer. Your knees have already long since given out, and Dottore had to hoist you up further onto the table so he could continue, leaving your feet dangling a few inches above the ground. 

You feel weight against your back, heat, smothering you as Dottore leans down to sink his teeth into your shoulder as he spills inside you once more, and you shudder through another weak orgasm in response, your eyes rolling back and your vision blacking out for several long moments. 

Pantalone shakes you back awake before you can slip too far, and you sob as Dottore starts to move again. You already know that you won’t be able to walk for the next few days, if not for the next week. 

Tears blur your vision, the world spinning around you as a gloved hand comes to rest against your head, petting you in what’s likely intended as a comforting gesture but only seems to frazzle you further, overwhelmed and overstimulated as you are. 

It must be Pantalone, because Dottore lets out an irritated noise, sinking his teeth into your skin to leave a new mark as he resumes the harsh pace he’d set earlier. Another hand, this one not gloved, curls around your throat to dig two fingers into your racing pulse as he tries to engrave himself into your flesh through means slightly less violent than cutting you open. 

You can barely keep track of who’s doing what– your vision is too blurred and you’re too far gone to fully piece together a coherent thought before it and the breath are knocked out of you by another snap of Dottore’s hips. One of them reaches down to rub circles into sensitive nerves, and you sob as another climax is ripped unwillingly out of you. 

You black out for longer this time, shaken awake once more by Pantalone. He’s cooing something at you that you can’t make out, drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears and the sound of Dottore’s ragged breaths mixing in with your own. 

It feels like you’re burning up, shivering weakly under Dottore’s crushing weight as the man seems to be pouring every ounce of frustration into his thrusts, and darkness encroaches on the corners of your vision with every movement. 

Another shuddering orgasm. You twitch weakly through it, your body registering the sensation more than your mind does. 

The world seems to tip, swaying like a vessel rocked by choppy waves before finally capsizing. Your vision goes, and you’re pulled into a sea of static. 

It smells like lilacs. 

It’s the first thing you notice when you slowly come to, a stark contrast to the smell of bleach and copper that you’ve become accustomed to. You’re also dressed in some proper clothes– or rather, ”proper,” compared to the usual paper-thin hospital gowns you’ve worn since being brought back to the lab. 

Opening your eyes, you’re greeted with the familiar luxuries you remember seeing when you were last in Pantalone’s care, and the sight would nearly be a relief if consciousness didn’t bring with it the unbearable ache in every inch of your body. There’s a budding headache building behind your temples, stinging pains from various bites and bruises littering your skin like brands.

It aches most between your legs, but there’s an ache in your thighs and your stomach like you’d pulled every muscle within; you probably did, honestly, but you try to push back the memory invading your thoughts and you sit up in bed. 

“You’re awake,” A silky voice drawls from behind you just as you sit up, and you turn around to see Pantalone sitting in an armchair in the corner, one leg folded over the other as he reads a book. He doesn’t look up as he addresses you; he just pats his knee, indicating he expects you to come to him. You’re not sure you can walk…

Climbing out of the soft bed hurts, various muscles protesting the movement, and you’re not surprised when your knees give out on you the second you rest your weight on your feet. Pantalone simpers at you from where he sits, amused, but he makes no move to help you stand up or walk. He just pats his thigh again, smiling at you. 

“I can’t walk,” Even talking hurts, evidenced by the crackling of your voice when you speak. 

“Then crawl.”

He says it so simply, as though you should have already known the answer. Your ears burn with humiliation. You don’t move.

“Don’t make me punish you on your first day back,” He says, setting his book down so he can properly address you. His tone is disappointed, but you don’t miss the way the bastard’s smile widens at the idea. 

Pantalone’s punishments aren’t nearly as severe as Dottore’s are, at least in terms of pain. Rather than physical punishments, he seems to prefer humiliation. You’re tempted to try your luck, but… everything hurts. You don’t want him to decide you haven’t earned the privilege of clothes– or find something equally humiliating and degrading– on top of the pain you’re already in.

Crawling hurts. Every muscle protests the movement, yet again, but you force yourself to ignore the aches, to ignore the humiliation burning beneath your skin at being made to crawl over to him. 

When you finally reach him you sit up unsteadily so you can climb into his lap, but you’re surprised when he stops you by pressing a gloved hand firmly against your head to keep you planted on your knees in front of him. 

Instead of addressing your confusion, Pantalone merely smiles and takes hold of your wrist, raising your arm to inspect the scars and bruises littering your skin from the months spent under Dottore’s care. His face twists with disgust, shifting into faux sympathy when he addresses you again, “Poor thing. Look what he’s done to you…”

His free hand comes to rest on his knee as he straightens up, uncrossing his legs, and you hear a steady tap tap tap as he drums his index finger against his knee thoughtfully. “Aren’t you glad I’ve brought you back from that wretched place?”

It’s a leading question. You know he expects you to answer correctly, and you get the sense he’s leading into something; a demand. “...Yes.”

“I knew you would be.” He says, dropping your wrist and leaning back comfortably in the armchair. He looks down at you, clearly pleased with the position you’re in. He props one elbow against the arm of the chair, resting his head in his hand as he smiles down at you. “Why don’t you be a good pet and show me just how appreciative you are?”

The implication isn’t lost on you, but whatever hope you’d had that he might mean something else is dashed as he spreads his legs slightly further apart to make room for you between them, and you don’t miss the growing bulge in his dress pants. 

Your hands are numb as you reach for his belt, and you barely flinch when his hand rests heavily against the back of your hand as you take him into your mouth. 

One cage for another. You’re not even sure you’re relieved, because every part of you still aches from the reminders Dottore had left you with. 

His hand presses against the back of your head, guiding you to take him further into your mouth, and you struggle to breathe around his length. You nearly gag as he pushes you down further, pushing back in resistance, and Pantalone clicks his tongue in disappointment but thankfully, lets up. Maybe he doesn’t want to ruin his pants. 

“I’ll get you something for the scarring,” He murmurs, fingers curling in your hair as you bob your head up and down his length. “And those garish bruises.”

Whether it’s an insult towards you or Dottore, you’re not sure. You try not to focus on it, instead focusing on the task at hand. You lave your tongue along the base of his shaft, earning a small shiver and a heady sigh from him. 

He’s silent for a few minutes as you continue to pleasure him, but you feel him boring holes into the top of your head. You don’t look up at him; you don’t want to. You’re trying to get this over with, and hoping that his silence means you’re doing well. 

The hand on the top of your head leaves, and you flinch when you feel him trace his fingers over one of the scabbed over bites left by Dottore, nearly biting down in surprise. You swallow, suppress the urge, resuming your pace even as he traces the outline of every bite left littered along your neck, your collarbone, your shoulders.

Pantalone straightens up a little, pressing his hand against the back of your head again to force you to take more than you already can. This time, he doesn’t relent when you push back, just holding his hand still until you stop whimpering and you manage to swallow back the urge to gag. 

“Hush.” He tells you in response to your muffled noises, groaning quietly at the way your throat vibrates around his cock.

You eventually relax, eventually get used to the feeling, and he lets you pull back slightly before he’s pressing down again, repeating until tears are spilling down your cheeks as you struggle not to reflexively bite down each time you gag slightly around his length. 

“How would you feel about something… permanent?” He asks, and his fingers are tracing the bites again. You try to pull back to answer, but his other hand stops you and he rocks his hips lazily into your mouth. A rhetorical, then; he doesn’t care for your answer.

You try to blink back your tears as you resume the pace you’d set, sucking lightly on his cock as his hand curls into your hair. It’s hard to focus on what he’s saying as his hand keeps threatening to force you down farther than you can take, and you’re focusing on stamping down the swelling nausea. 

“Something- hm-” He hums, and you can tell he’s getting close now, with the way his breathing is starting to deepen, his hand tightening its hold on your hair- “something tasteful. Not like those eyesores he leaves you. A collar is- fuck- too… too easy to remove.”

You don’t like where this is going, but humming your dissent only earns you a pleasured hiss and a rumble of praise spilling from his lips before he’s curling his fingers around the back of your neck. 

It’s the only warning you get before he shoves your head down, holding you there as cum spills into your mouth and down your throat. It takes everything in you to relax your jaw, and you pull back gasping and sputtering the second he relents.

By the time your vision clears and you blink back the tears spilling from your eyes, he’s already tucked himself back into his pants and is just watching you struggle to catch your breath. He doesn’t even comment on the mess of cum and drool that spilled from your lips onto the floor. 

It takes you a second to realize he’s not staring at you, but rather at the marks left on your skin. 

After a minute of tense silence, he smiles again, patting his lap this time in invitation for you to sit, and you ignore the familiar sting of humiliation as you obey. Again, one of his hands curls around the nape of your neck, tracing some pattern into your skin. 

“Right here,” He murmurs, though he doesn’t elaborate when your brows pinch together in confusion.

It takes you a second to realize he’s tracing invisible letters across your nape, then another few to realize it’s his name that he’s tracing into your skin. 

Something tells you that Dottore isn't going to be pleased to see you again at the end of the month.

[blitzyn]

rookie mistake

dottore x m!reader

Request: Requests are open right? I hope so 🤞 Would I be able to ask for a sub!(male/amab)reader X dom!dottore? With some blackmail and coercion, preferably leaning towards dubious consent but I’m am a-ok with non-con elements, with a fatui/subordinate reader? If you could add in a small scene of him continuing while talking with someone outside the door that’s be awesome 😎 - Anonymous

Synopsis: You accidentally invade Dottore's office in search of intel.

a/n -> yall i know that i said i was on the fence about writing for genshin, but it was dottore and i love him plus i really liked this idea despite it having collected dust in my inbox for decades. whoever requested this: i love your mind and im so sorry it took me forever to decide to write this!! but just a reminder to whoever sees this, i will not be writing for fontaine unless stated otherwise!!

wc -> 3.6k

cw -> non-con, blackmail, coercion, blowjob, deepthroat, literally getting caught, spit as lube, anal fingering, anal sex, standing doggy position, fatuus/infiltrator reader, guys he calls you a rat because you're a spy, not beta read

Your job was straightforward. But it was also one of the most grueling missions you've ever been assigned to.

With your status as an elite spy, you were tasked with infiltrating the Fatui as one of their ranks to gather information regarding the locations and purposes of specific forts to prevent potential attacks and keep the organization from acquiring knowledge valuable to their cause.

There was absolutely no room for error, lest you get caught and pay for that mistake with your life.

Fortunately enough, the mask everyone was required to wear (with the exception of the Harbingers) concealed your identity, allowing you to execute your orders with relative ease. Of course, it wasn't completely simple. You had to fight your way up the ranks in order to even get a hint of the plan from your superiors, which took years to even get recognized for your efforts.

Several times have you had to go against your moral compass. Several times, you doubted your abilities and questioned if you were even making a dent in the Fatui's plans. Although, when you heard a faint argument due to a lack of resources, you knew you were on the right track.

But one day, you noticed that an agent's office door was left unlocked. There was no one in the hallways, and not a soul knew that you had stolen an important document that recorded data for some valuable supply that you didn't care enough to read about.

Making sure you tucked the paper deep inside your coat pocket, you strained your ears to ensure you were alone before taking the risk and entering the isolated office. It looked like your standard room. Boring, silent, and strangely barren of many decorations. You took a moment to inspect the area before deciding to take a step forward when your blood suddenly ran cold.

"I don't use this office very often," a voice said from behind you. You just about jumped out of your skin, swiveling your head to the person behind you. It took you a moment to put a face to the name you'd heard so many times before, but when you did, you quickly regretted your decision to search for any additional information. "But even so, don't you think it's rude to invade someone's personal space?"

You froze, unable to find the right words. Nothing could explain why you were currently snooping around in an office that wasn't yours—much, much less when it belonged to the Second of the Eleven Harbingers.

You inwardly cursed your naive eagerness to do more than you were asked. Your years of experience as a spy should've kept you from making such a rookie mistake, and now all your work was going down the drain.

The two of you stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, fighting the urge to fidget at the overwhelming feeling of his gaze on you, analyzing your appearance. He broke the silence with a hum, neither intrigued nor entirely disappointed.

"I have heard others spread rumors of a mole within our ranks but thought nothing more of their words as an excuse for their inability to secure our resources," Dottore mused, raising a hand to his chin. "I assume that the mole is you?"

You couldn't bring yourself to reply. Your throat was dry, and your stomach twisted into knots. Not that he cared.

"I must applaud your efforts," he said, a slight smirk decorating his pale face. "Not many people evade our eyes so easily, and for as long as you have."

"But, a word of advice—" He reached into his pocket, pulling out a familiar device. He presented it to you, watching in amusement when you suddenly patted yourself down before looking back up towards him. It was the device you used to contact your organization. "—Make sure you clean up after yourself. It's impolite to leave your items lying around."

You don't remember dropping it or forgetting it somewhere. But that didn't matter anymore. You were stuck in the present with no way of getting out of this situation.

He flipped the device over, dully inspecting it as he continued talking. "After going through your data log, it wasn't hard figuring out what you were going for next. While this normally wouldn't spark any interest in me, this resource just so happens to be vital in my current experiment, and I can't have you tampering with my results."

He walked forward, stopping just a few feet in front of you. He was close enough for you to inhale his scent of sterile rubbing alcohol and metal. It made your nose burn as you watched him intently, tensing and fighting the urge to back away out of fear of angering him somehow. The document in your pocket felt unusually heavy.

"Although, I didn't expect such a seasoned spy like yourself to make such an amateur move," he hummed, ignoring your need for personal space to pull your mask off. And you were helpless against it all. "[Name] [L.Name], is it? Why don't you read the paper you have right now?"

That's when you knew you fucked up big time.

With a shaky hand, you reached into your coat pocket to pull out the report, unfolding it only to realize that it wasn't a report at all. It was a blank piece of paper. But you could've sworn there was writing on it when you grabbed it earlier!

He could see the confusion on your face clear as day as a laugh left his lips, tapping a rolled-up piece of parchment on the tip of your nose to regain your attention. "I believe this is what you're after." With a flick of his wrist, he unfurled the paper that contained everything you needed.

"What—" you gasped, briefly staring at your paper before looking back up.

"It's a shame you didn't think to check the ink before you took it," he said, faux disappointment laced in his voice before it reverted back to its normal tone just as fast. "The ink 'disappears' when subjected to anything higher than room temperature. When you put it in your pocket, your body heat, coupled with the insulation from your coat, affected the writing and turned it invisible."

Fuck.

He planned this out.

You swallowed nervously, taking a deep inhale to steel your nerves, even when it didn't do much to help you. "How... how long have you known?" you couldn't help but ask.

"Not long, really," Dottore casually replied, as if he didn't hold your entire life in the palm of his hand. "I caught you just in time."

"Now," he said with a voice that demanded your attention. Not that he needed to try, anyway. His very presence was almost impossible to ignore. "I'm willing to offer you two options. One, I hand this device over to one of my lovely agents and have them torture you for answers then promptly dispose of you. Or, two—" He waved the communicator in the air, taunting you. "—I have you make it up to me."

It was obvious which one you'd be more tempted to accept, but you knew that accepting an offer such as this from Dottore, of all people, was not a good idea. He knows he has you right where he wants you.

"The second one. I... I'll make it up to you." The words tasted like acid as you forced them out, watching a pleased smirk rise on his face.

"Good," he muttered mostly to himself. Leisurely, he turned around and walked towards the door, shutting it before refocusing back on you.

"Get on your knees," he ordered, placing his hands behind his back as he waited for you to move. He observed silently as you obeyed, staring at the floor in shame. "Crawl to me."

He sighed impatiently upon seeing the conflicted and perplexed expression on your face. "You want to be a rat so badly, don't you? So get down and crawl to me like one."

You were given no choice but to comply despite the absurdity of his request. Hanging your head, you inched forward as the cold, wooden floors painfully dug into your knees, stopping once the sight of his boots came into view. You held back a flinch when you heard the fabric of his clothes rustle as he leaned down to lift your head up by your hair, forcing you to your knees.

Instantly, your eyes zeroed in on the prominent bulge in Dottore's pants, making you painfully aware of what he wanted you to do next. With a suspiciously gentle tug, he brought you slightly closer to him. You could tell he was getting impatient.

"Well?" He questioned, a frown gracing his features. "You don't need instructions. Go on."

You glanced up at him with blatant disgust in your eyes before raising your hands to undo his pants and reveal his semi-hard cock. You suppressed a grimace as you held it in your hand, steeling your nerves just enough to be able to lick a stripe down the side. Flattening your tongue, you moved back up to take the tip in your mouth, letting your saliva slip past the corners of your lips to lubricate the rest of his dick.

You half-assed it all, not bothering to take it all the way down or, at the very least, use your tongue. However, Dottore caught on quick enough with an annoyed sigh. You supposed you shouldn't have been surprised when he tangled his fingers into your hair and shoved you down, but you were caught off guard either way.

You were embarrassed to hear a loud gag sound from you, choking and sputtering on his cock whenever the tip of it slid down your throat. You dug your nails into his thighs when he suddenly shifted and pressed the sole of his boot onto your dick, letting out a muffled cry that only served to please him. He made no move to rub it against you, simply keeping it firmly on your crotch—to keep you in line, you assumed.

You squirmed, internally cringing at the feeling of your drool seeping out the corners of your lips. Fluttering your eyes shut, you tried to focus on your breathing. In and out, in and out, in and—

"Don't look away," he said, refusing to give you a moment of respite, shoving his cock all the way inside your mouth, harshly tugging on your hair at the same time. He fucked your face, ignoring your sounds of protest as he battered your throat. He laughed at your struggle, entertained with the way your tears gathered at your lash line.

"Awh, is this too much for you?" He taunted, shifting his hand to the back of your head to push you down to the base. He sighed contentedly at the feeling of your throat tightening and spasming around him, gently rocking his hips. "You should've thought that through before you accepted the job."

With a painful tug, he pulled you off of his cock. A trail of saliva connected you to him, which you quickly broke when you turned your head to cough into your elbow. He ordered you to get up, unwilling to wait a second before he hauled you up by your arm impatiently. He effortlessly moved your body, pressing your cheek against the wooden door as he pushed on your back, forcing it to arch.

Deeming your position acceptable, he tucked his fingers underneath the waistband of your pants to yank them down to your knees. Your breath hitched at the sudden change in temperature, refusing to lean back and seek any warmth from Dottore.

With one hand on your hip, the other strayed toward your ass, spreading it to inspect your hole. It took effort to keep yourself from fidgeting under his gaze, and you opened your mouth in a daring attempt to get him to hurry up when he suddenly spat on your hole, shoving two fingers inside soon after.

You let out a grunt, clawing at the door he had you lean against. It was an uncomfortably foreign sensation but you were in no position to struggle. A burning sensation emanated from your hole as his fingers forced their way inside, wasting no time to move in a scissoring motion. They brushed against a spot that sent sparks up your spine every so often, taunting you wordlessly.

"You're enjoying this," Dottore said, not as a question or comment, but as a statement. And the worst thing was, he was right. No matter how much your mind made you hate it, your body told a different tale.

You let out a displeased sigh, pressing your forehead against the cold door, not daring to make your words known. Not that he minded. He enjoyed forcing your reactions out of you just as much as having them given to him without a fight.

He made it known with a jab to your prostate, sending a shock up and down your spine so suddenly it nearly made your knees buckle. That was all he gave you before abruptly pulling away, leaving you uncomfortably empty until the quiet ptuh! sound of him spitting on his cock filled your ears.

Fuck. This was actually happening. And you had no way out.

In a last ditch effort to maintain your dignity, you tried to push yourself off of the door but was quickly pressed—borderline slammed—back down with a hand to the back of your neck.

"I don't think you'll enjoy the alternative," he said, the undertones of irritation and impatience evident in his voice. He squeezed the sides of your neck hard enough to ensure your compliance, nearly scowling when you shifted in place. "So be still and behave like a good little thing."

Without missing a beat, he lined the tip of his cock up against your slick asshole and pushed his way inside, forcing a strained cry from your throat. He made sure it hurt, purposefully moving slowly to make you feel every inch and vein.

You whimpered, trying to breathe and calm yourself down. The stretch fucking hurt and you instinctively shifted your hips forward in a futile attempt to ease the pain when Dottore held your hips to yank you back, shoving the last few inches inside you.

You let out a strangled groan, biting your lower lip to stifle your noises as searing pain tore through you. You breathed heavily through your nose, feeling the weight of disgust settle in your chest when you heard him sigh in satisfaction at how tight you were. You winced when he pulled out slowly, only for him to slam back inside with a loud slap.

You jolted, just about ramming your head against the door in surprise. You grit your teeth and pressed a hand against it as the wood audibly creaked and groaned under your weight when he began to move. You tensed upon hearing faint voices beyond the door, peering back over your shoulder in a pathetic attempt to get him to stop.

"W—Wait," you muttered, breath hitching. "There's someone outside...!"

"Then I suppose you're just going to have to be quiet," he replied with an upward quirk to his lips before angling himself in a way that made his cock press up against you just right. You were disgusted to feel heat beginning to pool in your gut, forcing moans past your lips no matter how hard you tried to stop them. You covered your mouth with a hand as you listened to the noises approach. Dottore was (somewhat) merciful enough to press his pelvis against your ass, though that didn't stop him from rocking his hips to cruelly grind his cock into your prostate.

"Dottore?" It took you a moment to process the voice as electricity shot up and down your spine, trying your damn best to stifle your whimpers. "Are you in there?"

It's Pantalone, you recognize.

"Yes. Is there something you need from me?" Dottore replied, shifting his hold on you to start shallowly thrusting. You squeezed your eyes shut, listening to the painfully loud squelching.

"Not at the moment. I thought I heard something... else," Pantalone hummed with a knowing tone, sending a wave of mortification through your body.

"Then if that is all, I'd prefer it if you left," Dottore said, his amusement clear as day in his voice. He didn't even try to hide it as he gave you a punishing thrust, the resounding slap mixing in with your moan as it echoed off the walls. "I'm busy."

A laugh came from behind the door. "Very well. I'll leave you to it."

Dottore refused to wait for him to leave when he started again, this time fucking you so hard you were convinced there'd be a bruise. His fingers dug into your skin, yanking you back in time with his thrusts.

Your legs shook and you bit your lip until you bled, but it hardly did a thing to silence you.

"Look at you," Dottore mused, reaching around to hold your aching cock in his hand. He gave it a squeeze before jerking off the top half, focusing on the tip. "You were never meant to be a spy. You'd be so much better off as my little pet, wouldn't you agree?"

You let out a loud moan, instinctively looking down. You didn't even realize you were so hard, but as you watched the head of your cock drool precum onto the ground, everything felt twice as intense.

"N—No!" You choked out, clawing desperately at the creaking door. "I'll never—I'll never be your pet!"

"No?" Dottore laughed, sounding so unbothered it sent a spike of fear through you, reminding you of just how fucked you were. Swiftly, he swiped his fingers over the tip of your cock before bringing his hand up to push them into your mouth, making you taste your precum. With the palm of his hand, he pressed it against your chin to force your head back.

You let out a groan, feeling the strain on your upper back and neck as you stared at him with fear and disgust.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice," he reminded, pulling out the communicator with his other hand. He slightly shook it, taunting you. "Don't you remember that actions have consequences?"

He pocketed the device as he slid his hand away from your mouth to bring it to the back of your neck, holding it tightly as he harshly pressed you against the cold wood. The side of your face ached, but, much to your horror, the pain only went straight to your cock.

"So just stand there and enjoy it," he said with a groan, his dick pulsing rhythmically as he savored the sensation of your walls clamping tightly around him. "Don't fight how much you like this."

"I don-" Just then, he rammed his cock into your prostate over and over, reducing you into a babbling mess that only proved his point.

Your eyes burned with unshed tears, ashamed that you loved the feeling of him so deep inside you, but you hated that it was him fucking you. You could feel the heat in your stomach intensify with each harsh thrust, feel the way your balls tightened in a way you knew you couldn't stop.

"Please..." you whimpered, weak against the wet slapping sounds that filled the office. "I don't want to...!"

You came with a whorish moan, arching your back as your cock spilled cum onto the floor. You could hear the sound of Dottore's laugh through the haze of your orgasm as sparks coursed through your veins, knees nearly buckling.

"Yes you do," he groaned, voice slightly strained. You could faintly hear his labored breathing the closer he got to his own orgasm, noticing the way his movements grew sloppier and weaker. He reached around again, jerking you off despite the lurking overstimulation.

You tightened, sending him right over the edge as he slammed his cock inside you a final time, pressing himself flush against your ass as he came. It was uncomfortably warm as he throbbed in time with each spurt, savoring the way you practically tried to milk him dry.

But he didn't let it last long as he pulled out with a satisfied sigh, enjoying the sight of you, shaky and vulnerable, before him. He graciously gave you a moment before commanding you to fix yourself, stepping back to adjust his own appearance.

"Now," he said, sternly, like he didn't just fuck you within a damn inch of your life. "Why don't you send a message to your organization stating that you're not going back."

He handed you the communicator with a smug smirk, relishing in your distress. Taking in a deep breath to steel your nerves, you accepted the device, reluctantly typing in a message before returning it back to him with regret written on your face.

"Oh, don't look so upset," he pouted, pocketing the device. You weren't sure when you'd see it again. "It'll be easier for you if you cooperate."

He made his way past you, opening the door, sending shivers down your spine at the sudden chill. "But right now, you have a lot of work to do."

cross-posted on ao3