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Oh, you were going to kill him.
Despite your lower ranking, you know damn well that he did this on purpose and you were going to kill him for it. Your one and only harbinger, who liked to bully and pick on you especially for archons-knows-what reasons. Gods, did he really hate you that much? What did you do in your past life to deserve this?
You seethe. You are well aware that the moment you lash out on him, you’ll probably get sentenced to severe punishment but you don’t care at this point. In all honesty and fairness, if he keeps bullying you like this then that’s already too far.
You storm down the hallway leading to Scaramouche’s office, the fatui agents standing guard look at you in surprise and confusion. While you don’t exactly see them looking, you can feel the stares on you. None of them make any move to stop you, knowing the close relationship you have with the 6th harbinger.
Slamming the door open, you freeze at the sight before you.
“Looking for this?” Scaramouche smirks on his office chair, a vision dangling from his fingers. It was yours, as you expected. The vision glows even brighter as you enter the room, seemingly calling out for its owner.
“Give that back,” You seethe. “Why do you hate me so much?” You didn’t mean for the last sentence to slip out, but it was too late now.
“Pfft, I guess you’re more fragile than I thought,” Scaramouche says casually, eyeing the vision hanging dangerously on the tip of his finger. He toys with it a little more, even daring to let it slip from his fingers. Of course, it was just a ruse, a little trick into making you think it would really fall.
Obviously, you fell for it.
Alarmed, you rush for the vision that was about to fall. It didn’t, and you realize a second too late that you’ve been tricked as you inevitably fall on the harbinger’s lap, his hand pushing you slightly so that you can’t reach the vision.
You’re going to murder that bastard.
“Tsk, tsk, Isn’t that a little too close?” Scaramouche mocks, his gaze filled with disdain as he looks down at you.
A lowly assistant, sitting on the lap of a harbinger.
Your arm reaches out for your precious vision, gaze dropping along with it as Scaramouche yanks it out of your reach. He places it away on the side table, out of reach to you. You eye it desperately, and Scaramouche smirks at your compliance to do anything.
“You’d do anything to get it back, wouldn’t you?” Scaramouche sighs, almost as if he’s tired of your behavior.
“What are you planning to-“ You freeze as you feel his arm around your waist.
Scaramouche takes his hat off, placing it on the desk near him. The familiar jingle of the bells on his hat sound as he does so, almost activating your fight-or-flight senses as the sound is a constant reminder of his presence. Scaramouche smirks at that, knowing the effect he has on you.
You’re forced to straddle him as you can do nothing but comply with what he wants. He is your harbinger after all, and your vision is prioritized above all else. At this point, you might as well let go of your pride, just this once. It couldn’t be that bad, could it?
All your thoughts disperse immediately as you feel something harden against your groin. “You would do anything to get your vision back, wouldn’t you?” Scaramouche hums, and you gasp as you feel a rapidly hardening length grind against you. You decide to grind back, earning you a sharp grunt right by your ear. Scaramouche’s grip around your waist tightens, and he makes a sound almost akin to a whine.
You pull back and look at him in surprise.
“Shut it,” He grunts, dipping his head to press kisses against your neck. You moan in response, face immediately bursting into flames at the shamelessness. Scaramouche doesn’t seem to be affected however, biting and sucking viciously on the skin of your neck. You encourage him to do so, grabbing the strands of hair at the back of his head and tugging. He almost whimpers, catching you off guard.
You repeat the motion again.
And again.
“Ngh,” A moan slips from him, and you find yourself wanting to hear more of that sound.
Scaramouche pulls back, admiring his work on you. You inevitably flush under his intense gaze, averting your own eyes.
“On your knees,” Scaramouche commands, and you comply helplessly. He smirks at your obedience, lifting your chin up with his finger to admire you. “You seem more compliant than usual.” He laughs, and you huff.
“Anything— for the vision-” You grit, and Scaramouche’s grin widens even further at your statement.
“I guess stealing it was worth it after all,” He sighs, “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this.” Before you can decipher the meaning of his words, Scaramouche tugs his belt off, and he knows you know what to do.
“My lord— Mmph!”
“Silence,” Scaramouche grunts, hissing when your tongue inadvertently brushes against a vein on his cock. Tears prick at the edge of your eyes, your gag reflex threatening to activate as he pushes you down further on his shaft. Scaramouche grips your hair even tighter, maintaining a constant death grip. You’re not even sure if he himself is aware of it.
“That’s it— oh, ” Scaramouche moans, his voice keening as you tease the sensitive slit with your tongue. He seems to be holding himself back, yet he ultimately fails and starts to thrust upwards into the wet and warm cavern of your mouth. “ Hhngh— fuck,” Scaramouche breathes, and you muster all your effort to look up at him. His face is flushed, and it seems to have an affect on you as you slowly feel your face heating up even further.
Never was there a day that you’d expect to see your lord looking like this; breath heavy, face flushed and moaning above you.
“I—I’m close,” Scaramouche pants, and you’re encouraged even further to bring him to the edge.
Your name rolls off Scaramouche’s tongue as smoothly as caramel. A carnal sound, more high-pitched and whiny than any sound he’s ever made, is ripped from his throat uncontrollably as his hips jerk involuntarily, shoving his length deeper down your throat. You choke on the release, having to lift your head to swallow it all properly.
“ Hah, maybe you aren’t that bad after all.” Scaramouche pants, and before you can say anything, you’re hoisted up onto the chair again. Without warning or hesitation, he rips off your lower garments, leaving you bare from the waist down.
Flushed, naked and exposed, you can only shrink under the Balladeer’s gaze. He takes everything in shamelessly, staring at your body with carnal desire.
His gaze is nothing short of lascivious.
“M’lord, what are you— Oh, ” You gasp, feeling a slight pressure on your clit.
Above you, Scaramouche toys with your folds slightly before pushing a single finger in. You gasp, hips involuntarily bucking downwards to chase the pleasure.
“Tsk, impatient now, are we?” Scaramouche mocks, slipping in a second finger. You moan loudly at the additional stimulation, eventually beginning to ride his fingers. You’ve lost all shame, clinging to the Balladeer’s shoulders while he lets you do as you please.
“Are you close?” He murmurs against your ear, nibbling softly at the lobe.
“ Nngh— yes,” You manage to bite out, grinding even harder. Scaramouche assists you in this, moving his fingers at a rhythm that matches yours.
“I— I’m gonna—!”
Right when you were about to reach the peak, Scaramouche cruelly retracts his fingers, depriving you of any stimulation at all.
“Wh—“ You stare at him in shock, at a loss of words.
At your expression, Scaramouche just smirks even wider. Without a word, he lifts his fingers up; the clear and viscous slick dripping sinfully, and he licks fluid the clean off.
All without breaking eye contact.
“What’s the matter?” He asks innocently, as if he didn’t just deny you of your orgasm.
“ Scara, ” You whine, desperately trying to rut against his thigh for any kind of stimulation whatsoever. He denies that, holding you in place with a firm metal grip.
“Don’t call me that.” He sneers, “You are to call me my lord, as I am your harbinger.”
“My lord,” You whine, desperate for any kind of stimulation.
“ Good. ” Scaramouche smirks, his tone as condescending as ever. Once again, you feel infinitely small under his dominating gaze, and you feel yourself unable to look back at him.
You feel a light pressure against your entrance and you jump, but Scaramouche holds you in place. He rubs his tip slightly, pushing into the tight warmth that welcomes him.
“Nnngh— so— ah, tight—“ Scaramouche grunts, pushing into you. You whimper, burying your face in the crook of his neck shamefully. Scaramouche forcefully yanks you back by pulling your hair. “ Mmf!”
“Don’t hide like that. I want to see your face while you ride me.” Scaramouche bluntly states, and the painfully straightforward words make you whine.
Not even an ounce of shame either.
“M-My lord, please— ah! ” You gasp and moan as Scaramouche starts to thrust upward in you. “Start moving,” He grinds, and you have no choice but to do so.
You lift yourself carefully on his thighs, slamming back down after. The new stimulation makes you see stars, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Scaramouche hisses, cursing at how good it feels.
You repeat the motion again and again, the juices you make adding to the sinful sound of coitus.
“ Look at you, ” Scaramouche mocks.
“I didn’t know you were so filthy, doing something like this with your boss,”
You grit out a reply.
“Well you’re— nngh— the filthy one, for— oh, starting it, ah! ”
“Oh, but aren’t you the filthy one to enjoy it?” Scaramouche provokes, clearly showing amusement in this situation.
You huff, no longer focusing on his provocative words. Instead, you push yourself even deeper on his length, even rolling your hips a bit. Scaramouche grunts a little, beginning to thrust upward at a rhythm that matches yours. Like this, you can feel his length reach even further inside you. You clench involuntarily, as if you didn’t want to let him go. “ Ngh, oh, M’lord— I can’t—!” You gasp, rocking your hips harder. Scaramouche doesn’t say anything, instead keeping his gaze on you as he drinks in every sinful and salacious expression you make.
“Pull my hair again,” He chokes out suddenly, and you are surprised at his vocal request.
Nevertheless, you do so, tugging the back of his hair. He moans fully this time, clearer than any grunt or groan you’ve heard so far. You do it again, harder this time, and Scaramouche seems more than pleased with how fast you learn things.
You eventually whine, your legs starting to get tired. Your movement slow by just a bit, but it’s enough for Scaramouche to take notice.
“Feeling tired?”
You nod lazily, too out of breath to give a proper answer. Your movements slow to a sensual grind, yet Scaramouche doesn’t seem to be satisfied.
“Tsk, pathetic. ” He sneers, picking you up. He still remains inside you while your legs are curled around his waist, and without pulling out, he slams you onto the desk.
Before you can say anything, Scaramouche bends your legs at an angle, allowing him to reach even deeper inside of you. You moan loudly, almost keening, clenching like a vice around his dick.
“ Ngh, if you keep clenching like that— I won’t be able to move inside you,” Scaramouche grunts, letting out a low moan as a particularly sensitive vein rubs against your walls.
Fueled by the desire to release, Scaramouche starts thrusting faster. You nearly scream as he reaches you at an angle that makes you see stars, eyes rolling to the back of your head.
“ I’m close, ” You hear Scaramouche pant, and you can only nod helplessly.
After a few more thrusts you come, the viscous fluid dirtying the wooden floors beneath you. Scaramouche comes shortly after, pulling out as messy white ropes of cum shoot out. Some of it lands on your stomach, to which he delightedly licks it off.
—————————————————————————————————————
You awake in a lavishly decorated bedroom, dressed in a plain white robe. Remembering what happened, you immediately blush a furious red.
Wait.
You look around, only to sigh in relief at the sight of your vision glowing snugly on the bedside table. Safe and sound.
Phew, you think to yourself. Perhaps it wasn’t that bad after all. Sure, you had sex with your harbinger, but knowing Scaramouche, he would probably never give your vision back until you did as he wanted.
Just as you were thinking about your boss, a girl, slightly younger than you, opens the door to the bedroom. She squeaks as soon as she sees you, nearly dropping the pile of clothes (you assume) in her arms.
At the sight of her, you couldn’t help but wonder, what is a young girl like her doing in the fatui? You almost felt bad for her, assuming she must be a low-ranking attendant. She doesn’t even have a mask.
The girl is bright red when she approaches you, and you assume it is because she didn’t expect you to be awake.
“A-Ah, my lord is currently in a meeting at the moment, and I was asked to deliver these clean clothes to you. I’m sorry if I was interrupting you, m-my lady, I didn’t think you would be awake..” She stammers, trailing off nervously. Feeling pity for her, you decide to dismiss her quickly.
“Thank you, but please, no need to call me ‘my lady’. I’m just a mere assistant,” You smile.
“But I thought you..” Her eyes trail over to your shoulder, but she quickly averts them. “N-Nevermind,” She says nervously, dropping your clothes right by the bedside table where your vision is. She quickly exits the room, and you are left alone to your thoughts again.
You know well that many people probably heard you, and brace yourself to be hearing about it all week, if you were lucky.
You sigh, deciding to go back to bed for now.