Nurse Knock

He may be grumpy but he did enjoy a tea time every so often. In his mind, he worked so much from his younger years till now, he knew he deserved a break every now and then.

He thought of you as a sweet girl but sometimes he thought you weren’t at your full potential. Unfortunately 65 became one of those older men who thinks that ‘younger people’ are full of themselves — a complete 360 from 45’s attitude who thought of you as extremely intelligent. Therefore, leading him to constantly finding ways to correct you.

“I see what you mean, but to be frank, that is simply incorrect and impossible.” Oh he definitely ticked you off often… but you couldn’t deny the obvious attraction you had to the older man when he would rebuttal your claims.

How you ended in this position after Zandik’s permission was unknown. The older man had you sitting on the chair, legs spread open with your pants pooling around your ankles, one hand in between your legs as your fingers pump in and out of your cunt. You whimper, muttering things under your breath as you feel yourself trembling in pleasure and humiliation. The segment sat in front of you, legs spread open as he eyed you intently through the plague mask, one hand lazily stroking his cock.

“Put another finger in. I know you can handle three.” He demands sharply, hissing when his finger grazes over the sensitive head of his cock, using his pre as lube. You nod quickly and slip another finger inside, mouth parting and your head leaning back at the sensation of being filled. As good as it felt for you, the man was deeply unsatisfied with the way you were pleasing yourself. Snapping out from a mindless state, you gaze up through hooded eyelids when the segment appears standing in front of you. “Some things need to be taught, huh?”

65 takes matters into his own hands, quite literally. Both of his gloved hands are occupied on your body. Three fingers are pumping in and out, the leather texture rubbing against your walls just right and the tips hitting that spot that feels as if you’re melting. His other hand holds your face firmly in his grip, forcing you to stare into the red circles on his mask. If you focused hard enough, you swore you could catch a glimpse of his eyes.

“If you can’t even properly please yourself, what makes you think you’re deserving of me, hm?” He asks, leaning closer to you. The tip of his mask bumps into your forehead presses ever so slightly into your skin that you’re sure a mark will be left in place. Your fingers grip onto his wrist, digging your nails into his clothing. Your chest heaves up and down, your nipples erect and reacting to the cold temperature of the lab and beads of sweat trickle down the valley of your chest. You look so erotic in his chair, pleading him to continue as you’re so close and begging him to show you how it’s done to receive your reward.

Nothing turns the older man on that someone so much younger than him was begging for him to show them how to properly please themselves. His cock aches more at the thought of you pathetically playing with yourself in your bed when Zandik neglected you. Your moans bouncing off your bedroom walls, the smell of sinful acts filling the room as you lay naked in your bed. Would you tease yourself? Drag your fingers slowly up and down your folds and rubbing the smallest circles on your clit? Or would you be desperate and try to finish quick? Would you imagine Zandik? Or perhaps did you imagine someone else?

Zandik

Your beloved Zandik, the creator of all the segments that wander aimlessly around the lab. You were the first tester of the Elixir of Immortality, luckily for you it worked, but unfortunately for both, it did not work for Zandik. Every day was borrowed time and you were grateful for each minute to spend with him.

When Zandik first mentioned the idea of splitting his soul into different parts of his life, you thought he was insane — a madman almost. You never told him in fear of upsetting him, but felt as if he was trying to play god and mess with the order of things. However those thoughts washed away when you first met the segments, who equally represented your love at different points in his life, to which you were used to but some did have different behaviors than what was expected (shout out to 25). They were all Zandik, yet different at the same time.

Zandik was the stereotypical perverted old man. Sometimes when he was working, he would love to have you standing beside him and give your thoughts on his paper. A trait that all the segments unfortunately got was how touchy he was. Pale slender fingers would sometimes drag up your hamstring to the curve of your ass and give a small squeeze, much to your dismay. It was his way of making sure his segments know that you were still his.

Occasionally if you wore something a little less lab appropriate, he would click his tongue in disapproval. “I should kick you out of my lab for that. But, perhaps we can work with this.” Due to his decreased mobility, he used his brown cane to lift up the bottom of your skirt to see what panties you were wearing. “So disappointing. You flaunt yourself but couldn’t bother to wear the ones I like.”

Don’t be fooled. Zandik may be 85 and unable to move as he used to, but his cock was very much still active. You just had to do most of the work.

Zandik loves when you bounce on his cock while he sits in his lab chair. Your sinful moans fill the eerie quiet area and echoed off the walls. His fingers grip the skin of your hips, guiding you up and down his aching cock. He leans forward and lets his lips cover your nipple, his tongue swirling around the bud and occasionally nipping at it.

Zandik is VERY possessive of you. He is well aware of his segments and how fond they are of you. They are him after all. His canines sink into your neck, a grin forming on his lips when you cry out his name and slump into him. “Too much.. its too much..” you whine, wriggling your hips in a weak attempt to pleasure the both of you.

Occasionally , Zandik would get that random burst of energy, thankfully. He would have you bent over his desk, his hips moving as fast as his body would allow him. One hand holds onto your shoulder while the other holds onto the steel desk for stability.

It still feels so good. The tip of his cock continuously bruises your cervix with each rut, your walls tightening around him that causes low moans and groans to spill from his mouth. Soon your moans and his deep breaths are drowned out from the skin slapping produced by the two of you. His body is closely pressed up from behind, his lips hovering behind the shell of your ear. Each breath of his grazes your skin and goosebumps appear on your skin. “I know how much you enjoyed my segments. Admit it. Would you prefer I stop and let them have their way with you again?”

Of course no body was better than the original. You whine in protest, shaking your head and moving your hips backward to meet in time with his thrusts. “N-No Zandik! Only want you!” Your fingers begin to lose circulation from how tightly your fists were balled up. The coil in your stomach was so close to snapping and you desperately needed to finish. With the way he was fucking himself into you, you could say that he was close too.

because of his age, he needed more sleep, causing you to be the one who usually woke up first. he'd always seem so peaceful and at ease, you couldn't help but want to sit on that wrinkly face of the his. what better way to wake him up than that? zandik never complained, although you did have to make sure he didn't have an asthma attack mid oral.

zandik knew you always got hot and bothered when he talks down to you, in that condescending tone of his. you really were pathetic, drooling over an old man's cock this much. he'd wipe the spit off your chin, then stick his long, worn out fingers in your mouth when you get too loud, the feel of your throat closing around them as you gagged always made him laugh.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ It all started with a flower pot and your smile when you proudly presented it to him. Zandik gave it a quick glance, but found nothing that might pique his interest or warrant you his praise.

“What’s this?”, he simply asked.

“It will be ivy”, you replied. “If it survives this weather, I mean.”

He honestly doubted it. However, if that was what you intended to spend your free time on, who was he to discourage you? As long as you don’t forget your main duties in the lab. That was all Dottore said.

“And where are you going to put it?”

“In the bathroom, of course.”

Of course. The confidence with which you took on certain challenges, even when everything pointed to failure, sometimes made him want to simply study you as if you were an exceptionally rare specimen. It was part of your charm that fascinated him, he assumed.

The little seedling didn't even get a chance to sprout properly before it fell victim to the harsh climate. No surprises there. Still, the sight of your disappointed expression bothered him. So, Zandik decided to use this situation to carry out a little experiment and refresh his botanical knowledge.

It took him less than three days to create a fertilizer enriched with electro particles. In the meantime, you kept struggling, trying various methods – replanting the soil, watering the seedling generously, and moving the pot from the windowsill to under the lamp. It brought minimal results.

When Dottore found you in the study later, he simply placed a sachet of fertilizer beside your hand.

“Try this and tell me how effective it is”, he said, before walking back to his workstation. He could feel your grateful gaze on his back.

The results exceeded his expectations, because in less than a week, the ivy had grown to enormous proportions, its tendrils climbing up the wall and across the floor. After that, more and more pots began to appear in the bathroom, along with an ever-increasing variety of seeds imported from Sumeru.

At first, Zandik wasn’t pleased, muttering under his breath that you were needlessly cluttering up his space. He couldn’t deny, however, that the green of the leaves had a soothing effect on him while he submerged himself in the water. And the sight of the familiar flowers helped to momentarily drown out the resentment that still burned within him. ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Now, the bathroom bore no resemblance to the one that greeted your arrival. It was more colourful and vibrant, thanks to the blooming plants. On the shelves stood various oils and a stick of incense placed in a decorative vase with a woodland pattern. Alongside the hanging pots, multicoloured glass beads now dangled from the ceiling.

In the corner, right next to the overgrown ivy, stood a gramophone – a gift from a diplomat from Fontaine. Whenever you both decided to have a more romantic evening, provided there was time for that, the instrument played classical court music.

Zandik leaned his arm against the edge of the bathtub, eyes closed. His mind was blissfully free of research results, funding issues and the deadlines pressing down on the lab. Now, there was only perfectly warm water, the fragrance of rose-scented bath oil and your soft rambling.

He lazily opened his eye when you lightly nudged his ankle with your foot. Zandik was sure that you were about to accuse him of not listening. Which he wouldn’t deny. He had to admit that he had let his thoughts drift away for a few minutes, thanks to the relaxing atmosphere in the room. You, however, carried on talking, rubbing your arm with a sponge.

Ah, so that sudden touch was just an accident then. Despite that, the Doctor fixed his red gaze on you, listening intently to your words once more. From what he recalled, the last thing you had mentioned was your desire to study Moonfall Silver. But you must have moved on to another topic, though, because Zandik merely raised an eyebrow upon hearing your next words.

„I would need to carry out quite a lot of trials, you know?”, you didn’t notice his momentary distraction, staring at the flower pots hanging beside the lamp. „I mean, so many children are born every day. If each of us has their own constellation, shouldn’t the night sky shimmer like a pearls sewn onto the Tsaritsa gown by now? And this has been going on for so many centuries and will continue for just so many more. I wonder if space will ever run out on the celestial sphere.”

Because of the humidity, your cheeks were beautifully flushed. Dottore liked that shade. It was the same color as when he held you beneath him, murmuring sweet promises into your ear.

„I was wondering whether to set up a research station near a village and observe the sky for myself, but… I don’t want to stress the locals more than necessary. The mere presence of the Doctor’s assistant would cause quite a panic, and that’s not what I’m after."

You raised the sponge to your neck, pressing it against your skin. Zandik watched as the drops of water trickled down between your breasts. The air in the bathroom seemed to grow hotter. His other hand moved beneath the water towards your ankle. His fingers gently caressed your smooth skin before closing more firmly around it.

It was your turn to snap out of your thoughts. You fixed your gaze on your beloved.

„So, what do you think of that, Zand-ikk!”, you squealed when Dottore pulled your leg towards him without warning.

You plunged underwater with quite a splash, flailing your arms to regain your balance. When you surfaced three seconds later, you were spitting like a little kitten. Your hair was plastered to your face, now as red as a tomato.

„I think”, Zandik said, chuckling quietly at the sight. „That’s a bit hypocritical of you, isn’t it my dear? It was you who dragged me away from my work, whining about wanting a warm bath, only to spend the last few minutes talking about personal projects yourself.”

„You do exactly the same when you get excited about something!", you snapped, throwing a wet sponge in his direction. „You are just as much of a loudmouth as I am!”

Well, it was hard to argue with that. Zandik let out a little snort, beckoning you over with his hand and making more room between his legs.

„Ah, but there is a slight difference between us, my dear assistant. See, my ideas and calculations aren’t based on second-hand folk tales or fortune telling from the stars.”

Just as you were about to open your mouth to object, Zandik immediately cut in, grabbing the sponge you tossed earlier.

„Enough of that. Come here, y/n”.

You were still grumbling quietly under your nose but, manoeuvring carefully across the slippery bottom, you settled comfortably in front of your lover.

Zandik brushed the wet hair away from your neck and only then dampened the sponge, pressing it against your nape. You smiled softly when the pleasant warmth spread down your skin.

He began to slowly wash away the dirt and weariness from your back – starting at your nape and working his way down, between your shoulder blades, then along your spine. The very same hands that were capable of dissecting life into its constituent parts with clinical detachment, were now gently rubbing your body. His fingernails tried to scrape away the specks of filth stubbornly clinging to your skin.

The soap made everything slippery, yet his touch wasn’t risky. There was softness in it, yes, but the gesture wasn’t meant to arouse. It was grounding, comforting. With a quiet sigh, you relaxed in his care.

Zandik spoke up, breaking the silence that had settled over the damp bathroom.

„I’m heading to Inazuma in three days. Jester assigned me a task to carry out on one of the islands.”

„Ah. What happened to ‘we don’t talk about work while in the bath’, Doc?” you smiled playfully.

In response, Dottore pinched your side. At your squeal, he couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh.

“You broke the rule first with your nonsense. Now sit still.”

Zandik went back to scrubbing your back. You turned your head to look at him over your shoulder.

„Can I come with you this time?”

„No. Pierro demands absolute discretion and success from me. And you… You have an irritating tendency of getting yourself into trouble. And that, in turn, increases the risk of the whole infiltration failing.”

He smiled, although there wasn’t a shred of humor in his tone. But then, more quietly and with a trace of pride:

„I prefer it when you stay here. You are the only person competent enough to keep the laboratory under your heel. This way I know that the work is proceeding at the established pace, even when I’m across the ocean myself.”

Your heart fluttered happily.

„Hmm… All right then. Let’s say a compliment like that satisfied me enough to keep this place in one piece”, you joked, sweeping your wet locks behind your ear.

„But?”, Zandik pressed on.

„But I demand some kind of compensation in exchange for another few weeks of keeping an eye on your paperwork and test tubes. I want a souvenir.”

Zandik smiled, clearly amused. He wrapped his arms round your waist, drawing you closer to him. Your bare back met his chest. Dottore rested his chin in the hollow of your neck.

„Oh? My assistant thinks I’m going there for vacation rather than by order from the Director. I won’t have time to run around the marketplace, you silly girl.”

Yet, despite those words, his mind was already thinking. Photographs of the Inazumian night sky, engraved constellations, books that might interest you, little sweets that would survive the journey back… And your bright, grateful smile when he presented them to you in the safety of your bed chamber.

Zandik closed his eyes, gently kissing your skin. It tasted of soap and rose oil, but he could sense your natural sweetness underneath.

„I will see what I can find”, he murmured, sinking you both further into the warm water. „But whether you get them depends on the state of my laboratory when I return.”

If this was how he went, then so be it. At least he would die with you on his lips, your back arched as you quivered around his tongue, his name desperately muttered like a prayer. You deserved more than he could offer at this stage of life and his younger self had been more opportunistic with you than perhaps was warranted. Only he would look at the potential of a romantic relationship as an experiment and fail to consider what would happen to you when his conclusions were drawn.

Zandik lapped at you, burying his nose into your clitoral hood to send jolt through you. You bucked, and he relented as you set the pace, giving him the freedom to enjoy you. He angled his face just so, giving you additional stimulation with every roll of your hips. You chased your end with a desperate keening cry and when your walls finally shuddered around his tongue, your hands gripped his hair to keep him in place. One orgasm led into the next and he drank every wave.

Face flush and chest heaving, he was thoroughly proud of his work. Your post-orgasm glow was intense, a by-product of the vitality you still held and would retain for another few decades.

You were clearly happy with your own handiwork when you wriggled down, admiring the sheen of your slick across his face. Too happy.

Zandik reached for you as he realized you weren’t climbing off of him and instead—

His mouth dropped open as you slid yourself onto his cock, half-hard.

This wasn’t about him, he wanted to say, but the look in your eyes said everything. It wasn’t about him. The ravenous hunger dancing in your eyes was exactly what he’d wanted to satisfy. Whatever it took, whatever you wanted.

He shot into you after only a few quick thrusts, your walls squeezing him as you rode out another orgasm.

You finally rolled off of him, his body sticky with both of you.

“liar.” he taunts, his thumb finding your clit to rub it in fast circles while his hips continue to snap against yours, the wet, filthy slap of your bodies meeting echoing in the quiet room. he’s relentless, knees deep in the mattress as he reduces you to a cockdrunk writhing mess, each thrust meant to leave you with nothing to focus on except the pleasure he’s forcing into you.

“nononono i can’t, s’too much—” you whine.

“you can. you've done it before, haven't you? you're gonna keep coming for me until i say you can stop."

you're a complete wreck now - lightheaded and sobbing openly under him, every muscle in your body coiled tight and begging for a break. your inner walls pulse and clench rhythmically around tamsy's cock, swallowing the thick length with every ruthless thrust of his hips.

“i hate you!” you wail, your hands coming to hit and push at his scarred chest. “i hate you, i hate you, i hate you!”

"woah, woah—" tamsy’s eyes widen in false offense, his hips and thumb stilling altogether, allowing you a fleeting moment of relief. "no, no, no, don't be like that. don't say such things." he coos, reaching out to swipe his thumb underneath your eye, wiping away a stray tear. "you wound me, princess. all that screaming and whining but i don't recall hearing your safe word, do you?"

before you can gather a breath to retort, tamsy drives his hips forward, slamming into you so deep you swear it makes you black out for a second. a shocked moan punches out of you - your eyes rolling back in your skull and drool dripping from the corner of your lips as your mind goes entirely blank, thoughts turning into complete mush.

"besides..." he muses, holding himself on his arms and leaning down just long enough to press a sweet kiss to your cheek. "i think you’re enjoying yourself a lot more than you’re willing to admit." a slow, arrogant smirk curves his mouth as he smoothes his thumb over your lower lip. "you should be thanking me, i'm just being a good boyfriend and spoiling you.”

he's so infuriatingly calm as he taunts you, looking down as he brings his thumb back to your clit and goes back to toying with it, blinking calmly like the sight barely even affects him.

for the past hour, every time he felt himself edging too close to his own release you’ve watched him switch tactics - his cock withdrawing so he could torment your clit with his mouth or finger you instead, only sinking back in when his orgasm was successfully kept at bay.

he refuses to let himself come until he’s stripped away every last thread of your sanity, maintaining a terrifying level of restraint while you're trapped in the same continuous loop of torture, orgasm after orgasm being ripped out of you without mercy.

“no— nonono, it's too much!" you hiccup. "tamsy I can't take any more—” you try again, shaking your head furiously as your legs start to close and kick. your elbows dig into the mattress as you try to pull yourself away again, a fresh wave of tears blurring your vision and falling down your cheeks, your muscles trembling so violently you can barely control them.

a low, amused snicker bubbles up from tamsy’s chest as he watches you miserably fail another attempt to run from him, his hands clamping tightly around your hips to drag you right back where you belong.

“shh-shh-shh. either be good or say the magic word, angel. it's that easy.”

he starts fucking you again, giving a series of fast thrusts that immediately silence you. one of his hands wraps around your throat to keep you pinned firmly to the mattress, the other continuing to rub your clit, gradually building a fifth— or is it sixth? orgasm. your legs have a mind of their own at this point, shaking uncontrollably in the air, toes curling, the depth of his thrusts shattering whatever remnant of self control you had left.

his cock eventually slips free, dragged out by the sheer amount of slick between you. the sudden emptiness causes you to cry out, your hands flying down instinctively to shield your swollen pussy from his gaze.

“put it back in.” tamsy commands smoothly, still impossibly composed, chest barely even heaving.

a tiny humiliated whine escapes your throat but your hand responds to his voice like muscle memory, fingers trembling as they obediently reach further down to guide the thick, weeping head of his cock right back to your entrance.

tamsy watches you do it, that sadistic smirk of his spreading across his face as he sheaths himself all the way back into your warmth.

“see? you dumb little liar, can't even get enough.” he purrs, rubbing your clit one last time before bringing the slick pad of his thumb to his mouth to taste you. “come on now. give me another one so i can fill you up.”