As you guys may already know by my reposts, my top priority is to spread the Dottore agenda everywhere.
Whether it’s fanart or fanfics idc.
BUT- my MAIN agenda is to spread the Dottore with a breeding kink headcanon. There’s just no denying it for me 👏 specially after that Archon quest. You cannot tell me that pathetic and evil man doesn’t yearn for a family. Of course he’d have a breeding kink in a sick and twisted way- So just know that if you see a breeding and pregnancy Dottore fanfic or ramble around there… It may be my fault.
Ps: I believe and support reproductive rights and abortion 100%. Just because I’d let this man breed me with like 5 kids doesn’t mean other people want that as well. Plus all of this is fantasy lol.
dottore bravely breaking genshin villain stereotypes by shattering his own consciousness into pieces instead of trying to make people into a gestalt-consciousness
zandik is so fucking funny bc he's so proud of himself for it and most find it so intimidating and auraful that there's 8 of him or whatever and then anyone who fully comprehends what's going on there is just like
Ps ps ps, Dottore sees the reader's big breasts (no matter what gender) and goes crazy because, lol, why does this even distract him from important things?????
And one day, when he was sitting in a chair after a grueling autopsy, reader comes up to him, bends over and those damn bubbles distract Dottore to such an extent that the reader has to call him louder. And he lifts his head higher, looking like a lost little raven.
"Are you distracted by my chest, Doctor?"
"A stupid assumption. I was thinking."
"Looking at my chest."
"It makes it easier to think this way."
🤸🏻🤸🏻🤸🏻🤸🏻
I THINK ABOUT THIS ALL OF THE TIME
like you’re innocently trying to help him file some paperwork or check supplies or WHATEVER, but all he can focus on is the way that your tits are pressed together in your shirt, alluring and seductive in nature….
or maybe you adjust your shirt a little bit while leaning down at his desk, giving him the tiniest little peek of a nipple or edge of a lacy bra….
i’m sure you’d eventually catch him in the act, though, and question him teasingly. dottore would SO try to deny it, but there’s no question that he was staring, given the way that he wasn’t even looking at the files on his desk and gawking at your titties, imagining it was his dick sliding between them……🤤🤤 #yummy
Dottie facefucking drab because I really need to post something😳
MDNI
You were unable to breathe. Completely. On the one hand, your mouth was stretched to the point of your jaw burning, molded around the base of Zandik’s cock completely down your throat. Every twinge of your esophagus registered the length obstructing your airway, having to fight your own body not to gag.
You tried to relax, really, you did. Still, it was hard to when your nose was pressed all the way into his pubic bone, the faintest breaths you could manage through your nostrils registering his natural musk.
Tears gathered at your waterline as he held your head flush to kiss skin, ignoring the weak, muffled whimpers you could barely manage to squeeze out of your larynx. This was a punishment, after all. He was tired of seeing you get on so well with his other segments, having caught 25 in his quarters pleasing himself with a piece of your clothing in hand.
Whether or not it was truly your fault was irrelevant to him. Had you not interested him so, you simply wouldn’t be in this situation. He’d already dealt with 25 before this, leaving him wincing every time he went to sit down. A suitable consequence in the original’s mind.
Zandik was only satisfied with your position when you finally begun to purple, lacing his fingers into the roots of your hair to roughly pull you back off of his cock. A line of saliva kept him connected to your lips as you coughed and sobbed, hair mussed from his yanking you around.
“I don’t believe you’ve fully learned your lesson” The Doctor said sternly, thoughtfully. The cold leather of his gloved fingertips slid beneath your chin to tilt your gaze up to meet his own.
He looked rather pleased with himself, hardened cock still wet and bobbing between his thighs, throbbing harder at the way you looked up at him so pathetically. You were utterly submissive to him, and, archons help him, he couldn’t help the jealousy he felt when his segments, or anyone else for that matter, had the audacity to want you.
The gentle hand that cradled your chin suddenly moved to cup the back of your head again, pulling you closer,
“no, I’ll have to,”
he slid himself back into your mouth with one harsh thrust,
“force it into your stupid little brain.”
His hips snapped so violently, so quickly, you didn’t have any time to register what he was doing. Saliva and precum were flying everywhere, dripping obscenely onto the floor as he mercilessly ducked your face.
Your tears spilled over your lashes, adding to the sticky mess beneath you as your pathetic cries went unnoticed by Zandik. No, he was too lost in the sensation of your warm throat constricting around his cock to register much else.
In the slurry of his outburst of movement, he said just one thing, his fingers tightening so hard on your scalp that you cried out in pain.
“you belong to me.”
With a few more harsh thrusts, he brought you flush to his pelvis again as he pumped his load directly onto your stomach. Only when he fully softened up did he finally let you go, coughing and gagging and completely wrecked. The entire bottom half of your face was slick, your hair completely mussed and a little damp, and whatever you were wearing definitely needed a wash.
Zandik looked down at you, tucking himself back into his pants and smirking.
“Perhaps I should bring in 25 and receive his input on your current state, hm?”
warnings before you proceed: smut, love bites, hickeys, arousal being heightened, english is not my first language so there may be grammar inconsistencies here
Househusband modern au Dottore! where he does all the chores in the house while waiting for you to come back home from work just so he could shower you with peck's of kisses, afterward he'll prepared your favorite dinner!
Househusband modern au Dottore! where his body is fit and broad from doing chores, exercising daily and carrying you to the bedroom if you don't want to sleep, he'll forcibly cuddles you with his chest and gives you peck's of kisses to your head until you give up resisting him and slowly falling asleep in his arms
Househusband modern au Dottore! where he likes sleeping and nuzzling your chest when his tired or sleepy, it's his favourite spot in the world! he'll give hickeys or kisses on your chest when he's in the mood
Househusband modern au Dottore! where before he has sex with you, he'll flirt you first with an intimate tone while describing to take you apart brutally with his harsh and brutal thrusts to hear you symphony of moans meant only for him <3
Househusband modern au Dottore! where he enjoys being cooed by you! he likes it more if you do it at the bed with him when he lays on your chest <3
Househusband modern au Dottore! where he likes getting your arousal heightened before sex just so he could watch you squirm and beg for him <3
Househusband modern au Dottore! where he practically moans and whimper if you suddenly touch him, which you gladly keep doing so for a multiple times before he carries you over his shoulder, to go to your shared bedroom with him or the couch to have a romantic moment with you <3
Househusband modern au Dottore! where he likes buying your favorite desserts and things to see you happy face, which he absolutely adores it and will cup your face to give flurry of kisses to you
Househusband modern au Dottore! where he loves giving you hickeys and love bites to your body, especially your neck and thigh! he loves hearing your whines and seeing your flustered face when he does it
Househusband modern au Dottore! where he badly miss you if you went to work, he actually hates it when your presence isn't here with him, though he won't admit it
Househusband modern au Dottore! where while waiting for you to come back home from work, he'll do things that remind him of you like hugging and inhaling the scent of your pillow and using the same cup that you drank earlier this morning
Alpha!Zandik looking proud as hell looming behind his omega!assistant currently talking shit to Pierro.. pierro angry that there's an unregistered omega hiding as a beta to avoid the breeding programs.. said omega telling pierro to just be happy that zandik is finally interested in "passing on his genes" like they've been trying to pressure him into for decades... zandik with a lovesick smile and his arms crossed nodding along (high as fuck on his newly claimed mate's pheromones) only to get embarrassed later during the night and 'punish' his assistant for saying that
Summary: You visit Pantalone in his office. Reader is now 5 months pregnant.
TW: Talks of miscarriages (It's one paragraph. Please take care!), obsessive protective behavior. Pantalone needs reassurance.
SFW under the cut.
The scratch of a pen against paper had become unbearable hours ago. Pantalone sat behind his desk surrounded by towers of ledgers, contracts, reports, and correspondence that seemed to multiply every time he finished one. Candlelight flickered across the polished wood, catching on the gold trim of his sleeves and the dark circles beneath his eyes.
Another page, signature and calculation before the door opened without a knock. He didn’t look up immediately. There were only two people in the palace bold enough to enter his office unannounced. One of them would already be speaking.
The other—
Pantalone finally lifted his head. A smile appeared instantly. Small at first and then real. Delight is written all over his face to see you but also exhaustion.
“Hello there,” he murmured, setting down his pen. “If that isn’t my two favorite darlings.”
Your hand drifted unconsciously to the gentle curve of your stomach, and the exhaustion on his face softened into something almost boyish.
You crossed the room and leaned down to kiss him. The moment you straightened, Pantalone wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed a lingering kiss against your stomach.
You laughed softly. “If Dottore could hear you, he would be terribly offended.”
Pantalone chuckled, the sound warm and low. “I do hold affection for the Doctor as well,” he admitted. “But he is not the one carrying our child.”
“Good save.”
“I’m a banker. Saving myself is a professional skill.”
You shook your head fondly and placed a covered dish on his desk. “I brought you food.”
His brows rose. “That wasn’t necessary.”
“It’s nothing fancy,” you said. “And I don’t have much to do these days anyway.”
Pantalone gave you a look that said he knew exactly whose influence that was. “Mm.”
You sighed dramatically. “Don’t start.”
“Too late.”
The reduction in your workload had become one of the great domestic battles of the past month. You had originally intended to continue working almost as normal. Dottore had responded by arriving with medical journals. And statistics. And charts. And an alarming amount of scientific literature.
“Stress places measurable strain on the body.”
“Excessive workload is associated with a higher risk of pregnancy complications.”
“It would not be your fault, angel.”
That was the line that had finally broken your resistance.
“But we cannot leave any risks. Especially not during a first pregnancy. Be upset with us if you wish; I would rather endure your anger than watch you suffer something so traumatic.”
Pantalone had quietly agreed with every word while pretending not to. Now, your days were filled mostly with reading, embroidery, sketching nursery ideas, and reorganizing the future child’s room at least once a week.
“I still think seventy percent was excessive,” you muttered. Pantalone reached for your hand and kissed your knuckles. “I think the Doctor was remarkably restrained.”
Traitor. You muttered and pointed accusingly at him. He just smiled serenely. Then, as he uncovered the meal and the smell of warm soup and fresh bread filled the office, genuine gratitude crossed his face.
“You made this yourself?”
“I did.”
“You should be resting.”
“I was resting while making it.”
“That is not how rest works.”
“That is exactly how I define rest since that's all that i have been doing in these past weeks. Seriously, i feel like my braincells are dying. I'm getting dumber by each day that passes.”
"Don't tell the doctor that. He will wire some machine around your head to actually test that. Did you know that he started to read books on how to increase the intelligence of a child pre birth?"
Pantalone laughed again, and some of the tension visibly left his shoulders.
"Is that why he has been monitoring my diet so intensely and insists on me eating walnuts and playing as much classical music as possible?"
"It appears so. He is definitely not taking any risks. I believe it would hurt his ego immensely if the child turns out to be average."
As he picked up the spoon, another thought occurred to him. “How, exactly did you convince Dottore to let you leave the house unsupervised?”
You blinked. “He accompanied me.”
Pantalone froze. “He did? Why?”
“Mhm. He has a meeting here with Pulcinella.”
The spoon clattered back into the bowl. “I had a meeting with Pulcinella today.” For one terrible second, panic bloomed across his face. "Is it already so late?" He scammed for specific papers and a file.
You immediately reached across the desk. “No, no, no—he informed everyone that you were unavailable.”
“He what?” Pantalone stopped.
“He told them you were urgently occupied and sent his regards. He also instructed me to tell you to enjoy your meal.” With these words, Pantalone leaned back slowly.
“That man manipulates schedules the way other people breathe.”
“He seemed very pleased with himself.”
“I’m certain he was.”
You smiled and continued, “I also asked your front desk to prepare tea and refreshments once you finish eating.”
Pantalone looked genuinely surprised.
“And before you ask,” you added, “I brought your favorite tea leaves from home because I don’t trust the palace stock.” For a moment, he simply looked at you with just quiet affection.
“My dear,” he said softly, “I am beginning to suspect you spoil me.”
“Only because you work yourself to death.”
Pantalone sighed “An unfortunate necessity. I wonder how Dottore is managing everything.”
"Probably has to do with his tons of segments." You laughed before you could see his solemn expression.
"I could use a few myself. Maybe then i could actually finish work without worrying about the next pile."
“Oh darling, don't be so hard on yourself. You do as much as you can. it's a lot given the many changes in Snezhnaya and at home. Between that, i feel like there isn't much room for Dottore and you, especially with the brutal schedule we currently have. It makes me feel quite guilty."
"Nonsense! You should never feel or think that way. It's you who is creating life, and that should be your only focus, Angel. We will take care of the rest."
"Yes, and i am very grateful for that. My only worry currently is that my baby will become a test subject for my eccentric partner," you huff. "You should eat. The soup is getting cold.”
Pantalone obeyed with unusual docility.
You moved to the couch by the fire, tucked a blanket around your legs, and opened your book. The office settled into a comfortable rhythm: pages turning, spoon against porcelain, the crackle of flames.
And every few minutes, you glance up, you found him already looking at you. Just with the expression of a man who had spent his life acquiring wealth and power and still found it astonishing that someone would bring him homemade soup and tea simply because they loved him.
When he finished eating, he set the bowl aside and finally spoke again. “You know,” he murmured, “I think this may be my favorite part of the day.”
You looked up from your book. “The soup? Was it that good?”
“No.”
You raised your eyebrow.
"I mean, yes." He corrected himself immediately. "But i mean this."
His gaze lingered on you, on the blanket, on the curve of your stomach, on the peaceful domestic scene that no one outside this room would ever believe belonged to the Ninth Harbinger.
A soft knock interrupted the quiet. Pantalone glanced toward the door automatically, but before he could answer, you closed your book and spoke first.
“Come in.”
The door opened to reveal one of Pantalone’s senior attendants guiding a tea cart into the office. Steam curled from a polished silver pot, carrying the familiar fragrance of his favorite blend.
The attendant bowed. “My Lord. My Lady.”
You smiled gently. “Thank you. And please take the empty dish from Lord Pantalone’s desk before you go.”
The woman nodded at once and crossed the room with practiced efficiency. As she collected the bowl and tray, she hesitated.
“My Lord, Lady Sandrone has sent the cost review for her latest project. She requested that you examine it as soon as possible.”
Pantalone’s hand twitched toward the towering stack of documents on his desk, pure reflex. You spoke before he could. “Lord Pantalone will review it tomorrow.”
The attendant immediately turned her attention to you. “Yes, My Lady.”
“He has enough work for now,” you continued calmly. “Please inform Lady Sandrone that the report has been received and will be addressed tomorrow morning.”
“Of course.”
You inclined your head. “And thank you for bringing the tea. You may retire now for today. We won't be staying long too.”
The attendant bowed again, noticeably relieved to have such clear instructions, and wheeled the cart out of the office. The door clicked shut behind her.
Silence settled once more. Pantalone stared at you.
You raised a brow. “What?”
“Nothing,” he said slowly, “it was just remarkably authoritative.”
You reached for the teapot and began pouring. “She looked tired.”
“She looked terrified of interrupting me.”
“Then it was good that I interrupted you first.”
A laugh escaped him before he could stop it. “You dismissed one of my attendants from my office.”
You handed him a cup. “And she obeyed.” Pantalone accepted the tea, eyes warm with amusement. “She did.”
You settled back onto the couch with your own cup, entirely unbothered. “Someone has to make sure you sleep occasionally.” He took a sip and hummed appreciatively at the taste.
“lovely,” he murmured.
“The tea?”
“My partner discovering they can command my financial division.”
You smiled over the rim of your cup. “Good thing i won't take too much advantage of that. I could help you out more. That way, i get something productive to do, help you out with your workload, and Dottore and you won't have to worry about me since i'm around you.”
Pantalone looked at you for a long moment, affection plain on his face. “Mm,” he said softly. “i'll have to discuss this with Dottore first.”
The office door opened again without a knock. At this, neither of you seemed surprised.
Dottore stepped inside, still wearing his laboratory coat, gloves half removed and hair slightly disheveled from a long evening of work. His gaze swept the room in a single practiced motion—Pantalone with a cup of tea, you curled comfortably on the couch, the empty food tray gone, the fire burning low.
His shoulders loosened, “There you are,” he said.
You smiled immediately. “Missed me already?”
“I left you unattended with a banker for less than two hours,” Dottore replied dryly. “That qualifies as a controlled experiment.” Pantalone scoffed. “And yet your patient appears perfectly healthy.”
Dottore ignored him and crossed the room to you first. His gloved hand rested lightly against your stomach, his expression softening in a way only the two of you ever saw. “No dizziness? No fatigue?”
“I ate, rested, and behaved.”
“Hm. Remarkable.”
You caught his sleeve before he could pull away and pressed a quick kiss to his knuckles. The sternness melted from his face completely.
Pantalone watched the exchange over the rim of his teacup and smiled.
“We are thinking, Doctor,” he murmured. “That i should take our dearest to my office starting now.” And before you got too excited, he spoke again to you this time. "Until mid-day, afterward, you will be picked up by Dottore and will go home. Where you are able to rest." Then he turns to Dottore, who looked like he will immediately shut down the idea. "And before you are completely against it: it would improve home life a lot. Our darling here could feel more productive while being supervised. We could spend more time together. And you could work during the day as well and NOT the ungodly hours in the evening, where you return completely exhausted."
Dottore glanced between you and the tea waiting on the cart. Then, with a quiet sigh that sounded suspiciously, he removed his gloves and sat beside you.
“hmm,” he admitted, taking your hand, “I’m willing to try it out.”
How does The Doctor express affection? How does Pantalone express affection? How do these high-ranking harbingers show affection... in public?
Well, the answer is... they do so very different from eachother.
Whenever you and Dottore are out with Pantalone, he's always gushing all over the place. He's buying Dottore some unknown Sumerian snack that reminds him of his hometown. He's going to buy you the most pristine and unknown jewelry you have seen... that week, because of how often he spoils you. When you're out, you slowly watch as Pantalone's hand fills up with bags and bags of useless items that he'll probably replace or up-buy in a week. Sometimes he has another fatui recruit by his side. That way, he can hold you and Dottore's hands in public.
Dottore sometimes thinks it's vaguely embarassing to be seen with such.. peasants in public (Pantalone likes to put that nickname on his mouth). While other times, he doesn't even notice that he's holding hands.
While Dottore's affection is way more contrasting.
While it may depend on the segment, Dottore often fears of being seen with you both in public. He says it will "lower his reputation", that he doesn't want to expose you both and that—
While it may also depend on the segment (and his mood) that he does not give a fuck.
In fact, instead of being affectionate in public he tends to get.. possessive. A tad clingy, even.
His gloved, languid and long fingers slowly wrap around the side of your neck as you order something. His cheek pressed against the side of your head as he steps closer. You ears turn red, the employee stands akwardly as they watch such scene unfold. Yet you remain there, quiet and very accepting of his... affection when you let this even unfold.
You watch as his hand, once again, drifts to his other spouse. Pantalone. Dottore wraps his hand around Pantalone's waist while he's on some... boring business talk with some low-lifes (Pantalone's words). Dottore pinches his side, and Pantalone's ears turn red. Hidden from the clientes view, but not yours, who stands from a few meters behind. And just as he reacts (gets red) it's the moment he (gently) moves Dottore away.
And at that moment it's when Dottore comes back to you. Stomping loudly with an unfairly adorable pout.
"Did you see that, my heart? That... prick!" Oh, you also happened to learn long ago that Dottore struggles to insult people he adores likes.
"I did see that, Dottore," you respond with a calm expression, and almost can't contain that giggle that begs to slip out of your throat. Almost.
Dottore stares at you with the same sad, vaguely pathetic pout from before as his hands wrap around your waist once again. He's waiting for something. For you to say something. You both know it.
"... You wanna ditch him?"
"Absolutely, my darling." He responds in that very petty tone of his.
Summary: Dottore and Pantalone immediately assume the worst when you dissappear in the middle of the night. You and the unborn baby definitely became the center of their world.
SFW under the cut.
The bed was warm. But not as warm as it was when Pantalone went to bed with his partners. That was the first thing Pantalone noticed.
The second was that when he reached across the mattress for you, his fingers met a hand that was way too big to be yours, instead.
It's Dottore’s. That much could Pantalone register in his half-asleep state, and he frowned in the darkness.
The other man was still asleep, sprawled inelegantly across his side of the bed, silver hair loose against the pillow. He had returned from the laboratory only a few hours ago like he has done the last few weeks, exhausted enough to fall asleep while still muttering about “final calculations” and “a breakthrough.”
You had been tucked between them when they slept, but now your side was empty. Pantalone pushed himself up, instantly awake.
“Love?” he called softly.
No answer so he checked the en suite bathroom first. It's empty and a faint unease curled in his chest.
You were four months pregnant now, and while you insisted you were perfectly capable of moving around on your own, both men had become embarrassingly attentive.
Pantalone stepped into the hallway and walked slowly to the nearest bathroom—empty. The second bathroom farther down the corridor—also empty. Across the hallway, the kitchen lights were off, too, and his unease sharpened into something worse.
“Darling?” Louder this time. Still nothing.
He crossed the main salon and stopped dead. It's also empty, but what caught him off guard was the fact that the balcony door stood slightly open, curtains stirring in the night breeze.
With his pulse lurched, he strode outside. But the balcony was empty as well. The snow now glittered on the railings.
No footprints and still no sign of you. For one horrifying second, his mind supplied possibilities faster than reason could stop them. Kidnapping? A Fatui enemy? A political enemy? Gods forbid, someone targeting the valuable heir you carried.
“Fuck.”
He turned and nearly ran back toward the bedroom. The door slammed open hard enough to rattle the frame.
“Zandik!”
The use of his actual name cut through sleep like a knife, and Dottore shot upright instantly. Pantalone had never seen him wake so quickly. His red eyes were wide, disoriented for only a heartbeat before they darted to the empty space in the bed.
“Where is—?”
“I can’t find—”
“Fuck!”
Dottore was out of bed before the sentence finished, nearly stumbling as he grabbed the nearest robe to cover himself.
“What do you mean you can’t find them?” His voice was dangerously calm now, which was always worse.
“I checked the en suite, both hallway bathrooms, the kitchen, and the salon. The balcony door was open.”
Dottore’s face went white. “Did anyone see them leave?”
“I haven’t checked yet.”
He swore again, harsher this time.
Dottore was pacing, running a hand through his hair so violently it stood on end.
“I should have stayed awake,” he muttered. “I knew I was too tired. I should have—”
“This is not your fault.”
“What if someone took them while we slept?”
The thought clearly made him sick. Pantalone felt no better. Within moments, they were striding through the suite together, checking rooms with growing desperation.
“did you check the guest wing?” Dottore asked.
“I’m checking everything.”
They entered the dressing room. Your heavier winter coat still hung untouched. Pantalone’s stomach dropped further, and Dottore looked ready to tear the palace apart.
"We wake the staff. Now.” and Pantalone was already moving toward one of the bell pull.
They turned back into the corridor, and in the corner of their eye, they noticed. One guest room door near the master suite stood slightly ajar.
Both men froze. Neither remembered leaving it open. Dottore reached it first and pushed the door wider, closely followed by Pantalone. Both men stopped in their tracks.
You were there. Curled on the guest bed beneath a blanket that was wrapped around your legs and a hand resting on your swelling lower stomach, sleeping soundly with one hand tucked beneath your cheek. Completely unaware that two Harbingers had just spent the last ten minutes preparing to mobilize an entire security force.
Pantalone exhaled so hard his knees nearly gave out, and Dottore unclenched his fists and only noticed now how much they hurt.
“Damn it,” he breathed.
Neither moved for a moment moved they simply stared at you, drinking in the sight of your steady breathing.
Alive. Safe. Still here.
Pantalone approached first, kneeling beside the bed. “My love,” he murmured, brushing your hair back gently. You blinked sleepily.
“Hm?”
Dottore leaned over you, looking equal parts furious and relieved. “We thought you were gone.”
You frowned in confusion. “Gone where?”
Pantalone laughed once, shakily. “that was our concern.”
“What time is it?” You pushed yourself up slowly.
“Far too late for disappearing acts,” Dottore muttered.
You looked between them and finally seemed to notice their expressions. “…Oh no.”
“Oh yes,” Pantalone said.
“I just moved rooms.”
Dottore stared. “For what?”
“It was too hot,” you said defensively. “And crowded.”
Pantalone blinked. “Crowded?”
“You were both practically on top of me.”
Dottore looked offended. “I was asleep.”
“You were asleep on my shoulder.” you replied to him.
Pantalone coughed into his hand.
“AND YOU were holding my waist.” You pointed at Pantalone
“He was holding my leg!” He nods his head toward Dottore.
“I was asleep!”
You pointed accusingly at Dottore. “And he was also holding my hand AND half the blanket.”
Dottore opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
“…right.”
Pantalone laughed properly this time, relief making him weak.
You sighed dramatically and lay back down. “I needed space.” The two men exchanged a long look.
Then, Dottore sighed. He reached over to slide his arms underneath your legs, carefully lifting you up.
“what are you doing?” you said. “I can walk—”
“No,” both men said at once.
“You frightened us.”
The quiet sincerity in Dottores voice softened your irritation immediately. “I’m sorry.” You said and placed your head on his chest. Pantalone kissed your forehead and walked ahead of you two, opening the door of the master suite and lifting the blanket to the side so Dottore could place you gently onto the bed.
"You should sleep in the familiar bed. it's more comfortable for you and the baby." You nodded, the master bedroom did indeed feel safer somehow.
“Next time, just wake one of us before you vanish”
You smiled sleepily.
“Next time, stop cuddling me like a stolen treasure, and then it's a deal.”
Pantalone only hummed, while Dottore only rolled his eyes.
Your eyes were already drifting shut, but you still asked “Where are you going?”
Pantalone exchanged a glance with Dottore. “The guest room,” he said. “You needed space.”
Before you could object, a sharp knock sounded at the suite entrance. It was the staff.
Pantalone looked over his shoulder. “just rest. We will deal with everything else.”
He and Dottore stepped out into the main salon and closed the bedroom door softly behind them.
The head housekeeper stood waiting with several servants and two armed Fatui agents, all visibly alarmed.
“My Lords, we came as soon as—”
“The matter is resolved,” Pantalone said smoothly. Relief rippled through the staff. Dottore, however, looked distinctly less forgiving.
“You took too long.” The housekeeper paled.
“My Lord, we arrived the moment the bell was pulled—”
“And yet we searched half the residence before you appeared.” His voice was quiet, which made every servant stand straighter. “We will discuss response times tomorrow.” Pantalone placed a hand lightly on Dottore’s sleeve before the staff could panic further. “You are dismissed,” he said more gently. “No further action is required tonight.”
The servants bowed and retreated at once, the agents following behind them. When the corridor finally emptied, Dottore rubbed tiredly at his eyes.
“I am going to regret speaking to them before coffee.”
“You are going to regret many things tomorrow,” Pantalone replied.
“Mm.” The tension began to drain from both men. Pantalone opened the guest room door. The sheets were still warm from where you had slept earlier. Pantalone sat heavily on the edge of the bed and let out a long breath. Dottore removed his robe and extinguished the lamp, leaving only moonlight spilling through the curtains.
“this is not how i imagined the night to go,” he said quietly, climbing into the bed beside him. Pantalone lays on his back and stares at the ceiling, “do you think we overreacted?”
“No, we thought they were gone. If anything, we didn't react enough.”
Pantalone’s expression softened immediately.
“of course you would think so,” he admitted. “but yes, we did.”
After a moment, Dottore turned onto his side, exhaustion finally overtaking over. “Its late,” he muttered, “let's rest as well.” Pantalone smiled into the darkness. “Good night to you too.” Dottore huffed something that might have been amusement. Then, both men fell asleep, knowing you were only a few steps away.
