Bounded || (Albedo x Reader)

|| 34 ||

Art: ??? https://www.deviantart.com/dawnpu/art/3sk-734170083

A/N: Summer break ya'll! I'm starting to become really really really slow with these updates and I have no excuse at all to explain why.

I think I attract procrastination.

Apologies again for the lack of attention for this fanfic. I've been dragging this out quite a lot. I'm hoping to find somewhere, as I want to draw a conclusion for this story soon.

Enjoy— Bloop <3

"I'm starting to think you aren't going to let me go." Y/n had one of the most deadpan voices. Like the one in the beginning, and stuff.

"No way, really?" Dottore was obviously done with dealing with Y/n for such a long period of time, he's starting to think he's the one captured, and not her. "Where the hell did chicken face go?"

"Don't call me chicken face." Pulcinella banged his head on the cabinet for the 50th time, making a few of Dottore's jars rattle.

"You're literally called the rooster." Y/n said.

"A rooster and a chicken are different."

"They're both farm birds." Dottore yawned, as he leaned back into his chair staring at some pieces of paper. "Slaughtered too."

"Are you implying I should be slaughtered?"

"Are you admitting you're a chicken?"

"Rooster."

"Look. Guys. I don't want to be here as much as you guys don't want to deal with me any longer. And my patience is starting to hit its limits." Y/n started, as she started to move her chair closer to them. The screeching and loud banging of the wooden seat was annoying.

"How much do you three hate each other? It's only been an hour." The new voice made the three draw their attention over to the door of the lab.

Y/n saw the same smirk the guy had on his face, as he slowly emerged from darker area to reveal his smaller stature. And dear god, was she kind of— glad to see him here.

"How pathetic." He sneered.

"Oh look, Baladeer. What's your business here? Shouldn't you be back at the daycare? Not to babysit the kids by the way." Dottore retorted, and the short child jokes again.

"Let's hope someone will be able to babysit your injured ass after I've killed you." He spat, venomously his way. "You never fail to make those same boring old jokes. They're all the same."

"Cause there's nothing else good to make fun of you for. Your height was always the best to go."

Scaramouche scoffed, and made eye contact with Y/n. Something told her, he definitely had something in mind.

Like... save... ing....?

Nah—

Scaramouche looked at his co-workers with an annoyed expression. "Do you mind?"

"We mind a lot, actually." Dottore said, unimpressed. As he gathered a file, and probably filled with information.

Pulcinella eyed Scaramouche suspiciously, but shrugged it off. And grabbed Dottore's arm, dragging him out of the room.

Y/n felt a smile tug her lips, but hesitated since she didn't know if Scaramouche was in the mood for all anymore. Well— probably.

"How have you been?" Scaramouche pulled a chair, and sat down in front of her with it. "I suppose sitting in a laboratory room must be boring, no?"