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#possessive pantalone
minminho0 · 1 year
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◈You're Mine◈
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<Yandere!Pantalone x Reader>
-Fluff
Summary: You got sold to the 9th harbinger and now youre his cute little girlfriend that does everything he says♡.
Reader: Female
Warnings: Hitting and harrasment
A/n: brainrotting rn♡♡ been inlove with him lately so yee.
I hope you enjoy~!!
✴Masterlist✴
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"How's my darling doing~? Mhm, has she been behaving?" The 9th harbinger mentioned while holding you in his arms.
He just came back and asked Childe to look after you while he was away, Not really the best choice but hes the only one available.
"Oh, shes been great~! Such a sweetheart♡ youre so lucky to have a girl like her!!"
"Ikr fr fr" (pls idk but i see him saying this words💀)
"Lets go now, darling~"
You hummed, nuzziling into his arms more.
"Bye bye, Y/n~, till next time!" He waved.
You waved back as you two turned around.
Getting into the luxurious car and ready to head back to the abode.
"Mhm, you've been a good girl according to Childe. Good girls deserve a reward, right? How about i take you shopping tomorrow, ill buy you everything you want" he smiled while looking down at you.
"That sounds nice.." You leaned on his arm as you slowly drift off to sleep.
You only woke up when you felt Pantalone carrying you to your shared room.
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"Ohh it's been a while since I went shopping!! " you exclaimed.
"This is your reward for behaving lately" he smiled.
The whole day, you two spend time together like a date and, spending thousands without baiting an eye.
You two ended your day with a nice dinner at an expensive restaurant with a good view.
"I really enjoyed spending time with you today..(and your money) I hope we get days like this more"
"You will experience days like this frequently aslong as you behave and act like a good girl you are♡"
"Mhm!" You hummed while chewing your food.
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"Ah! Who are you and what are you doing!? " you struggled to fight back as a man hugs you so tight.
"Come one, baby~ Just one night, I promise I'll make you feel good~" an obviously drunk guy spoke to your ear.
"No! Let me go please! " you squirmed at the man's arms.
"Tch stop struggling, lady!"
You manage to escape his tight grip but before you can run off, he suddenly pulled your hair which made you cry out.
"Aghh!" You gripped your hair to try and make him let go but it didn't work, he was about to hit you at your face, you shut your eyes tight waiting for the blow.
"Ahh! " you screamed, letting go of your hair and held the part of your face where he hit you a few seconds ago. You started to tear up as he hit you multiple times.
"That's what you get! " he smirked as he still has a tight grip at your hair. Before he can hit you again, he suddenly felt a sudden sting at the back of his neck resulting on him letting go of your hair and collapsing to the ground.
"Take him to the basement" he ordered his underling.
"Yes, sir!" The underling quickly went to work.
You felt arms slowly wrap around you, those familiar arms, that familiar scent..
"P-pantalone? " your voice barely a whisper.
"Shh, I'm here don't worry. "
"It hurts.. "
"Don't worry darling the paramedics are on their way" he nuzzled you in his arms, comforting you.
"Pantalone? "
"Hm? "
"I.. I love you"
..
"... I- I love you too, sweetheart" he said in a comforting tone as he kissed your forehead.
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✻Bonus part!
Pantalone slowly closed the door to your room making sure that you won't wake up.
He headed down the basement together with his underling.
"What should we do to him, sir? "
"I-"
"PLEASE LET ME GO! I'LL NEVER DO IT EVER AGAIN PLEASE! "
Slowly getting irritated for being cutted off but still stayed looking unbothered.
"Tch. Send him to Dottore, I have no use of him as he only inflicted harm"
"Yes, sir" they bowed
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Dottore: *happy noises* yay!
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I hope you enjoyed it!!!
-March 16, 2023
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gum-iie · 1 year
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happily divorced 🥂
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idyllic-affections · 5 months
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hello.
pantalone w/ a younger sibling!reader (or older.... but that changes the plot slightly!) who runs the most popular chain of casinos in teyvat. shockingly, pantalone doesn't chide or chastise them or look down upon them for their choices. he encourages it, actually.
the house, his darling younger sibling, always wins. and his rivals always wind up in further debt because of them <3 even if they lose, ultimately, they still win. it's a fucked up game rigged in their favor, but really, is that not how all casinos work?
he can't be mad that they're supporting him the only way they know how... well, it's not the only way they know how, but they're supporting him with what they're best at. and he can't really be mad, not really--every time he looks at his sibling, he is reminded of how they really are cut from the same cloth as him.
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ok originally i was gonna add on to your post @suguwu but this had a mind of its own sooooo my own take on pantalone writing you letters to practice his penmanship except it’s childhood friends!au where he loses contact with you and doesn’t find you again until he’s become a harbinger.......
He writes to you and never sends the letters.
He writes to you and never sends them for many reasons, not the least of which being that without an address to direct them they’d be lost to the bitter howling winds of his beautiful, frigid homeland and that he’s half convinced you’ll never grace his life with your brilliant presence again. He writes to you and never sends them because he cannot take the thought of you (not even you, especially you) seeing the chicken scratch he begins with, the rough, choppy lines of his just-budding script. He writes to you and never sends them because he pours his heart into the ink and the words, the words which begin just as simple and unrefined as the lettering but become flowery, elegant (desperate, fervent, covetous and salacious and ignominious) confessions as time moves on.
He perfects his form, the art of the love letter, for you—just as he learns to balance books and pours through economic theory for you, just as he fills his coffers and rises in the ranks for you. So that when he finally finds you again, after so many years of searching and yearning and preparing, he can court you properly the way he’d always hoped he could back when he was a pauper on those cold, ruthless streets. He writes you new ones with that perfected swirling penmanship that graces the very financial documents making up the bones of Snezhnaya’s economic prosperity, whispers sweet nothings to you that none would suspect an eminent Fatui Harbinger capable of with pen and ink on parchment using that eloquent grace which charms businessmen into signing away their livelihoods, and gives them to you in person until he finally, truly has you. Everything has been for you. It’s always been for you.
That’s why he can’t bring himself to burn those unsent letters on the eve of your move into his manor, years since he first found you again. They’re yours, he hasn’t a right to destroy them; but he hasn’t the valor to give them to you, either. He bundles them up with and squirrels them away in his study, and deep in his heart though his mind refuses to believe it he knows—hopes, perhaps, if he were a wise enough man to admit it—that you’ll find them eventually.
Months in, therefore, he can’t find it within himself to be surprised when he comes home to find you in his study.
You’re more meddlesome than most might think he’d care for—but he hardly minds, of course. Your brain is one of the countless things he covets about you, and despite a desire to keep you safe he could never bar you from any aspect of himself; you will always be a welcome sight in his study, at his side, etching your glorious signature into his meticulous plans until they bear the mark of both of you entwined so immensely, so gloriously, he’d wonder if it weren’t permanent. Perhaps you’d entered to hide away his work as you do so often when you’re feeling neglected. Perhaps those letters called to you, rightfully yours as they are. It hardly matters.
What matters is he opens the door and sees you on the floor, precious silk skirts of the dress he’d gifted you on a whim mere weeks before pooling around your form where you kneel with those letters scattered about you. Two in your lap, one in your hand, you look up at the sound of the door opening to see him standing there—your free hand covers your slack mouth, your eyes wide and filled with tears.
He makes for you on instinct, all but stumbling over his feet as he falls to his own knees before you, dropping the paperwork he’d taken home without thought for the way it flutters to the floor in favor of reaching out and cupping your face in his hands. Thumbs reach out to wipe away your tears, neck bows to press his forehead to yours, and body curls in to hold you; you melt against him, breath shaky as you inhale.
And then he’s kissing you. It isn’t deep or heavy but chaste, calming. A firm press of lips against yours, and then another, then another and another and ever more until his lips barely part from yours between them and his own cheeks are wet with the tears streaking your face. An apology is uttered through them, breathed into your mouth, imploring, shamefully urgent.
You’re shaking your head. There’s an attempt at words, surely, but he kisses them away too quickly, fear pulsing through his veins at the thought of what those frigid tears might mean—you think him obsessive, surely. Unable to control himself, fixated on you. He can’t bear to hear it.
But when your hand threads through the back of his hair and tightens to pull him away, when he obeys without hesitance or protest like he’d only ever do for you, it isn’t horror that he sees in your still-wet eyes. It’s awe.
All this time? you sigh against his lips, a murmuration filling his lungs with the breath of life. You’ve loved me this much? All this time?
Yes...
It doesn’t register that he’s spoken until the word is out, and perhaps if there were an audience he might be inclined to quell the unadulterated veneration in his tone, but it isn’t something to dwell on when you’re kissing him the moment the word comes out.
He falls back. Work papers and long-hidden sentiments of desire, of avarice, of utter worship each addressed to you flutter with the movement as his shoulders slam into the ground with the full force of your weight atop him, and though he surges up to respond in kind he makes no true effort to throw you off.
He’s only ever wanted to be at your mercy, after all.
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prettybbychim · 17 days
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guys guys put ur tin foil hat on for a second okay
the upcoming wish banners right
first phase: arlecchino and lyney
both fatui. current members
second phase: wanderer and baizhu
wanderer was fatui in a past life and BAIZHU
NOT FATUI in any way shape or form as far as we know
now, say we apply a similar logic to baizhu as we did wanderer. wanderer was once fatui, therefore even if he’s not active (or was never active in the first place u know irminsul tampering and all that) he will always have a connection to the fatui, whether he likes it or not, whether he’s the only one that remembers or not
THEREFORE, these banners represent two different things
first phase: active members
second phase: connections
how does baizhu have any connection to the fatui, you may ask?
in return, i ask you, who looks suspiciously like one ninth harbinger? that’s right
BAIZHU
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they’re related confirmed next question
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kamiraaah · 1 year
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Pantalone stole my heart. That's all I have to say.
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angelltheninth · 5 months
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Genshin Men + Breeding as a Kink or Breed to Impregnate
Pairing: Kaeya, Diluc, Itto, Childe, Pantalone, Dottore, Wriothesley, Zhongli x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, creampie, breeding kink, teasing, mention of pregnancy, tail use, possessiveness, mating press, rut/heat
A/N: Wrote things like this before but I really like thinking about it.
Kaeya has a just breed kind of mentality. He may dirty talk and say he will pump you full and make you pregnant but it's just talk. Better than anyone he knows that he's not in the right place to make anyone pregnant because he wouldn't be able to be there for the kid. All the creampies he may give you never actually result in anything, he's way to careful and reminds you to take the morning after pill.
Diluc wants kids with you, really badly but he's not always serious about it. His breeding kink is obvious, he loves to see his cum inside you, he loves to push it inside you and even talk about having a family some day but only when you're both ready. When that moment happens he will fuck you until he sees your belly get round with his child, so you better make damn sure it's what you want.
Itto always breeds to impregnate you, he doesn't even need to be in his oni rut to have that urge. That deep and primal need to fill you with his seed and watch you get bigger and bigger, give birth to a healthy baby and how you'll raise it together. Whenever he can he will put you into a mating press, his balls always slapping against you at lightning speed as he roars about how he'll make you pregnant.
Childe isn't sure if he wants a kid or not but he does enjoy the sight of you when you're all fucked out of your mind and have his cum spilling from your pussy. Can say quite a few things in the moment he rarely means them, so you always have to have a conversation afterwards if you should take the pill or not. He can't help the gleeful smile on his face when the day comes that you don't take it.
Pantalone talks about it often but is always the one who pulls out, leaving no possibility of you getting pregnant. For him the dirty talk does a lot and he knows you're the same, you want all of the fun but none of the risk, which is why he loves you so much, you understand him perfectly. Besides seeing his cum on you is a much better sight if you ask for his expert opinion.
Dottore never breeds you without thinking it could take, or at least hoping. You may think it's just words but it's not. He's always rough, always leaving you shaking and twitching and unable to walk but when he sees the first signs of pregnancy he makes sure to keep his hand on your stomach at all times, protecting the life you managed to create together.
Wriothesley teases you by saying he will breed you but you're never quite sure if he will. You want it and he knows it by the way you lock your legs around him to make sure he doesn't pull out like he sometimes will. It's you who always begs him to stay inside, so of course he will, but you also know that he is a busy man, there will be time to have a family, doesn't mean you can't enjoy the creampies.
Zhongli is only serious about it when his mating season hits and the needs becomes too much to suppress. Much like his possessiveness. He wants to make sure you're marked inside and out, a mating bite on your neck, an imprint from his tail around your thigh, his seed in your pussy, his scent all over you. Will do whatever it takes to make sure you carry the pregnancy safely if it happens.
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cyxnidx · 6 months
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DADDY'S GIRL !
characters: dad!pantalone & dad!wriothesley
genre: hcs + imagines
a/n: i love wrio's design sb omgomgomg. also pls ignore how janky wrio's icon looks compared to pantalones :(
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Pantalone
dad!pantalone, who can't help himself but laugh when his little girl tries to wear his glasses.
"why, look at you." pantalone coo's, finger gently tickling his two year olds stomach while she tries to fit his seemingly oversized glasses onto her small framed face. "just like daddy, aren't you?"
dad!pantalone, who's ever so gentle with his little girl.
dad!pantalone, who buys his little one everything she could ever want.
walking beside pantalone, his little girl wobbles slightly from her thick bubble coat keeping her warm in the harsh winter. they pass a store, and the small girl stops for a moment, noticing a toy through the glass. "daddy?" she calls, pointing at the glass as she waits for her father to crouch down, matching her eyesight. "can i have one?" she asks sweetly, eyes going wide. pantalone smiles, "of course, darling."
dad!pantalone, who lets his teenage girl do his nails and makeup.
dad!pantalone, who laughs to see himself reflected in his teenage girl's personality.
dad!pantalone, who compares his girls baby pictures to her now, smiling when he notices she hasn't changed a bit.
walking down the corridors of his home, pantalone smiled as he saw picture frame after picture frame of his little girl, years seemingly passing in a flash. though, with closer observation, he notices her face hasn't changed a bit - perhaps a newer birth mark, but nothing else. "dad?" he hears her voice. "what're you doing?" she questions. pantalone cocks his head slightly, smiling. "nothing - you just look the exact same in the face." he tells her, lightly tapping her nose in a playful manner.
Wriothesley
dad!wrio, who loves to help his toddler play with her little toys.
"daddy." he hears his little girl call for him, pulling at his index finger for his attention. wrio looks down, noticing her pointing at her dolls and doll house spread across the living room floor, pieces no longer where they were supposed to be. "help me, please." she asks politely.
dad!wrio, who adores it when his little girl curls into a ball in his arms late one night while watching a movie.
eating a handful of popcorn, wrio almost doesn't notice his little girl move the bowl to the table and instead places herself into his arms, face buried into his chest. wriothesley smiles softly, tightening his grasp around her smaller body as he continues to watch his movie.
dad!wrio, who smiles when his teenage girl still comes to him for help.
dad!wrio, who always lets his teenager do his hair whenever she deems fit.
dad!wrio, who always tries his best to model the man he hopes his little girl will fall for.
driving his teenager to her father-daughter dance, wriothesley pulls into the parking lot. "don't touch it." wriothesley tells his teenager, stopping her from touching the car door handle. "dad.." she groans before watching him get out of the car, walking to the other side and opening the door for her. "c'mon, let's go." he says, hand out to help her out.
dad!wrio, who feels his heart melt hearing his possessive toddler yell 'my daddy' for the hundredth time.
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sh1-n0bu · 7 months
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𝔫𝔬𝔟𝔲’𝔰 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 2023!
day 9: window sex with pantalone from genshin impact
warnings: cock/strap per traditions, marking, reader is possessive, slight exhibitionism, slight creampie
notes: will some of yall who sent asks abt some certain characters with certain tropes be okay with me blending your ask and kinktober together? pls let me know if u would want a separate fic or not
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it was no secret that the ninth of the fatui harbingers was a sly man. maybe it was due to his secretive past or due to his job as a banker but one thing was certain. regrator was one sly man.
but not to his possessive lover who fucks him so good and make shim weak in the knees with just a simple kiss. not to his lover who marks him so possessively, making the banker look like he was mauled by some wild animal. not to his lover who pushes him flush against the glass window of their mansion, fucking their cum deeper into his gaping hole as he whimper of how people could see them.
“f-fuck! darling, please!! ahnng! gyaah♡︎ mmgh… eegk♡︎!!” the banker lets out another squeal, toes curling as he paints the glass window with his cum again. there was a small puddle forming on the rug covered floor. mixed up from both his and the amount you’re fucking deeper into him. he could just feel his belly bulging from how much there was inside him, slowly slipping out and trickling down his legs.
seeing the fluid that you worked so hard to fuck into him trickling down and being put to waste, you couldn’t help but click your tongue. can’t let your hardwork go to waste now, can you?
hooking a hand underneath one of his knees, you pull it up high, pushing him flush against the cold window of your mansion. the cold temperature applied to his bare skin and his over sensitive red cock had him whining out deliriously.
“you’ve been awfully close to that second harbinger, love. are you thinking of something?” you ask in a low voice, leaving another array of bitemarks on his neck and back. the pain and pleasure mixed together, making pantalone whimper more.
“n-no… no, my love. no no no. i would never. i would never, my love—!” the banker shakes his head frantically, knowing just how possessive you could get. and that just meant prolonged time of him getting fucked stupid on your cock.
too bad you weren’t feeling like showing him any mercy today. not only was he being awfully close to the one they called doctor, he neglected you for a while due to his work and travels to other nations. so it was only normal for you to feel slightly more possessive than usual.
“my love, please♡︎! people could—nngaah! could see us...♡︎” his voice trails off, turning into a high pitched squeal as you start to move your hips again.
the wet noises of plap! plap! continued, turning louder as you continue to try and fuck your bodily fluid deeper into him. stretching his hole out. making him squeal and burn up in shame at the thought of someone seeing you two together like this.
if was broad daylight. one of his most long working, loyal butler would be leaving the mansion to tend to the gardens. the curtains were open and you were pushing his body flush against the cold window. his butler could see you two! his butler could see how good you were fucking him. cumming inside his slutty hole and stretching his belly until it bulges from the sheer size of the strap.
he could be seen! the regrator, reduced into nothing but a silly cumslut in the hands of his lover.
oh but that also turned him on. just the thought of someone, anyone really, seeing the mighty regrator desperately bucking his hips back to make your cock graze against his prostate again with his face flushed bright red, drool slipping down his chin. archons, he wanted more. he wanted you to fuck him more.
pride thrown out the window, all pantalone could do was brokenly plead for more. hips trying to buck back into yours. hoping to feel your cock graze his prostate again. hoping to feel the bulge in his stomach grow bigger as he slowly goes dumber and dumber on your cock.
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nymphiria · 2 years
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‘CAUSE I KNOW YOU ARE A STARGIRL!
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☰ PUBLIC SEX w/ GENSHIN MEN
- ̗̀ feat: itto, childe, zhongli, pantalone, ayato
— cw: public sex, exhibitionism, overstimulation, dry-humping, manhandling, unhinged zhongli, cockwarming, office sex, jealousy, MDNI 18+
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ഒ ៸ ITTO
not a single spot in all of inazuma to fuck you in can compare to his little area behind the city jail. when itto’s been bailed out for the third time that week, he can hardly contain himself as he sees you waiting outside to greet him. not even a simple “hello” is given before he’s dragging you away to fondle you in the shade of several supply boxes behind the police station. once your back is pressed against the cool wood, you know you’re in for a long afternoon.
“shit, baby,” itto whined into your bruised and mark-ridden neck as he pressed his covered bulge against your panties. “missed this pussy so, so, so much. thought i was gonna die.” the look of embarrassment and disbelief are ones that he was so used to seeing decorate your pretty face. his clawed hands dug deep into your thighs as his hips picked up their already fast pace. “itto, it’s only been seven hours,” the incredulous look you shot him made him cackle, his grip loosened slightly only for a few moments.
“every second that i’m not balls deep in you, i’m missing your pussy.”
ഒ ៸ CHILDE
you would never understand childe’s obsession with dragging you around liyue harbor just so he could stuff you full. inside of northland bank? routine. the harbor’s docks at night? exciting. the golden house? his personal favorite. something about potentially being caught by the city’s inhabitants makes his blood pump furiously in his veins. he gets such a rush seeing you try so desperately to conceal your noises in fear of someone you know hearing you.
six orgasms pulled from you and childe still hasn’t let up. it was already beginning to become nighttime when he dragged you behind the large rock in front of yujing terrace. you could barely keep yourself upright with your trembling legs being thrown over his shoulders. no matter how many times you attempted to push his head back or pull his hair to get him to stop, childe was restless in his pursuit to make you braindead. your juices had dropped down his chin and soaked his shirt — it still wasn’t enough to satisfy him. with each flick of his tongue against your swollen clit, you were that much closer to moaning his name loud enough for the millileth guards to hear.
“c’mon, baby. i know you’ve got one more for me, don’t you?”
ഒ ៸ ZHONGLI
the moon was bright — illuminating everything under it’s light. usually this would be perfect for you and zhongli’s routine evening stroll on the harbor’s main road, but tonight the luminance was doing you no favors. for the life of you that night you just couldn’t keep your mouth shut. you should’ve known better than to doubt his strength and prowess as an ex-archon — that was a hill he was ready to die on.
as you were propped against the statue of the seven, zhongli’s hips repeatedly knocked against your ass. the nails digging into your hips felt sharper than usual — more monster-like as the left deep marks in your skin. normally, zhongli would be gentle during intimacy, preferring to take his time and worship you. but now? he was absolutely unhinged, manhandling your poor body into submission. “..‘l-li! s-someone could — mph — see us,” drool dropped down your chin as you tried to reason with him. clawed hands tangled into your hair and yanked your head up to look at his statued likeness.
“good. let them see you pleasing your archon exactly how you were meant to.”
ഒ ៸ PANTALONE
rich men have it all — pantalone is no exception. he flaunts his wealth in every aspect of his daily life to anyone fortunate enough to be in his presence. his favorite possession, however, was you — his precious little whore that trailed behind him everywhere he went. in broad daylight, you were usually dressed rather modestly but between the northland bank’s dark walls is where he loved playing with you the most.
“what do you need? clearly, you can see that i’m busy with something much more important.”
the poor fatui agent was clearly rattled at the icy stare being directed his way by the ninth harbinger. it was pitiful how his hands trembled at his sides despite obviously trying hard to keep them still. if he were asked that question a few minutes before barging into pantalone’s office, there was nothing in the world that could’ve taken precedent over what he came to report. unfortunately, he stood corrected.
your legs were spread wide by pantalone’s own massive thighs, pussy on full display being stretched out. if the agent had dared to look any closer, he might’ve seen your clit twitching with pure wanton need. you were definitely embarrassed at your lover not moving an inch to cover you and preserve your dignity — hiding your face behind your shaking palms. his boss definitely noticed him scanning his eyes over your trembling body because not moments later he was leaning you against his chest to give him a better look.
“go on. look all you want. you’d never even get the chance fuck her in your wildest dreams.”
ഒ ៸ AYATO
lord ayato is extremely possessive over his cute little maid. usually it’s a good thing that you’re mostly in the estate preoccupied with chores, but he overlooked one thing that he definitely didn’t see coming. thoma. both you and thoma worked closely together preparing meals, keeping the home tidy, and various other tasks. it’s actually quite impressive that ayato didn’t think for a split second that the amount of time you spent together wouldn’t lead to anything else.
“i’m disappointed in you, darling, you’ve really wounded me. do you have anything to say for yourself?”
it was a cool night in the garden of the kamisato estate — the breeze made your nipples harden under your night robes and poke through the fabric. “hm? what’s that, dear?” he propositioned, giving a deceiving smile downwards. it was a little hard to respond to his question, especially when he was battering his long cock down your throat. his gloved hands forced your head down to swallow him all the way down to the base and barely let you up for air. your tear soaked cheeks did nothing to deter him from making sure his lesson got through your head.
“i hope thoma comes out and sees you swallowing my cock. then, maybe, you’ll both understand that you belong to me.”
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taglist: @p-antomime
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pigeonpeach · 3 months
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Jealous harbingers
Warning: yandere like tendencies or behaviors but not fully. Also ofc jealously and violence
Characters: Childe, Capitano, Dottore, Pantalone, Arlecchino, Columbina, Sandrone
Childe is definitely the worst when it comes to jealousy. He’s number 11 so he’s eager to rise up the ranks, but he also refuses to bring you around the other harbingers because he worries they’d use you to get to him. And it would work. Hook line and sinker. Even if its innocent. The only harbinger he’d let you around is Puncinella and that’s because the guy is like family to him so of course he doesn’t mind. But if he must he has you close 24/7. He cuts off his colleagues if they get too comfortable and is quick to show displays of affection as of means to dissuade anyone. He also will leave enough hickies to make you look like a dalmation
Capitano is actually very calm when jealous. For the simple fact that scenario is incredibly unlikely to happen. No man is stupid enough to flirt with his partner, especially when you’re consistently guarded and accompanied. Not even Dottore would risk his wrath. But if some idiot does decide to try they won’t last long. Like at all. He will just grab them by their skull and toss them like they’re a lingering piece of garbage. He will not leave hickies on you however because with his strength that could actually do serious damage and he just refuses to risk hurting for that. He will likely have you wear his insignia in some way on your outfit if you go out without him.
Dottore is worse but hes good at covering for it. Like Captiano he is less likely to let you be alone in public without him or underling. But he knows you’re a beautiful sight so you would catch a eye or too. You won’t know that the underlings avoid your gaze because the last few that lingered their gaze quickly became test subjects of some horrible experiments. He is also not stupid enough to show you off to the other harbingers. You’re likely in your own wing of the lab building in a comfortable environment with attendees far from where any colleague of his is allowed to go. Although he will probably get jealous of his clones. The younger segments are more neutral towards you but the older ones are more likely to try and hold you or kiss your hand while he’s not in the room. It’s quite a mess for him.
Pantalone is not like Dottore in that he will show off his prized jewel in the appropriate settings. They wear custom matching outfits meant to clearly indicate they are his, jewelry paralleling his own, with a hand on the waist at all times as he mostly dominates conversations with strangers or colleagues. He is proud that you are his. He makes it well known. In public he is usually not so touchy minus holding you. But if he notices the lingering gazes and jealous stares he gets he won’t hesitate to stoke those agitation as a way of showing dominance. For instance he may pull you into s dance in which he keeps you pressed so close to him. He may pull you in for a quick kiss or a long one depending on how mischievous he is feeling.
Arlecchino
You’ll need not to deal with such things. More likely than not you’ll be busy in the orphanage. The rare occasion she allows you to accompany her is for special events she thinks you would enjoy. Often times your shared children are also brought as body guards to you. So you won’t be left alone. If any would be suitor comes by they’ll swiftly redirect them and engage if they get violent. But if a harbinger were to try their luck…. Arlecchino will not hold her tongue nor keep up appearances as she pulls you from the conversation and kindly reminds said harbinger to keep their hands to themselves. Once you’re home safe and alone however her teeth with be in your neck making enough hickies to make you into a leopard.
Sandrone
You are her most prized possession by far. Beautiful puppets and such. She is seldom seen in public or in events. Often sending underlings in her stead. It helps she’s also not nearly as social able or diplomatic. But she is a very jealous lover. She hates the idea of anyone else having eyes on you. She may subtly influence you to stay by her side more and more. Not even the most arrogant harbinger would dare to challenge her.
Columbina
She is actually least likely to be jealous. She’s a odd woman. But if she didn’t think you would stay loyal then she wouldn’t have let you out of the house today anyways! Your attire is tailored and customized to match hers. Sometimes you dawn a veil as she thinks if she sees your pretty face too much she’ll loose all restraint and just get carried away with you. Truly a strange woman. Not even the most reckless of harbingers would challenge her.
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secretivemessenger · 2 years
Text
Harbingers Lover
Fatui harbingers x Male reader
Rating: NSFW
Warnings: OOC harbingers! Blow job! Begging?! Pet names-puppy! (Pantalone)! Body worship! Rough sex! Possessive behavior! (Childe)! Degrading! Power bottom reader! (Scaramouche)! Edging! Sex toys! Clones?! (Dottore)! Rough sex! Marking! Sex coaching?! (Capitano)! Rough sex! Overstimulation! Implied multiple orgasms! Dilf! (Pierro)!
- fatui harbingers relationship headcanons
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^Pantalone^
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You know i have to start with this man , he has me on chock-hold the moment he showed up on screen
Pantalone is a very busy man since he has alot of business deals to take care of , and he has to take care of the northland bank that is know to be the biggest bank in teyvat , so he barely have anytime to spend with you his own lover
That’s how it’s usually like with him , since he’s very busy most of the time to show you his affection he does it through material gifts
But when he does actually have some spare times for you he would definitely spend every minute of it with you , he would either spend it with you in his room or taking you out shopping
We all know that he the richest man in teyvat , quite literally and that just means that everything you ever desire shall be yours , if he can’t show you physical affection he will buy you stuff
want new clothes? Theres a cabin full of em ready for you , you wanna a place to stay? don’t worry tons of mansions are ready and set for you , new jewelry’s accessories he got it all to you
He’s literally a sugar daddy , a gentle and sweet sugar daddy , but it’s not always like this with him , if you ask him for things most of the time he will be happy to give them to you but if he’s feeling a bit tipsy or frustrated he will have you beg for them
Oh no would you look at that you just spent all the mora you had on you so you went straight to him asking for more , what you didn’t expect is him asking for a price back to give you the money you need
The last thing you expected is to have pantalone’s cock stuffing your mouth , slurping noises come out every time you moved your mouth
You looked up at him with puppy eyes hopping it would somehow change his mind on this but he simply gave you a smile as he pat and ruffled at your hair
“Come on now i know my good puppy can do it”
You whimpered around his cock when you realized your begging won’t work on him , and now your only solution is to please him so slowly but surely you started bobbing your head taking a bit more with every push
You easily gag at his cock but you continue to suck at it like and obedient little puppy , whining and moaning like a good slut would do waiting patiently for him to paint your throat white with his cum
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^Tartaglia^
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The second one has to be our favorite ginger
He may not be as rich as pantalone but he can definitely give you everything you want , even if he somehow doesn’t have the money for them as long as you want them then whatever you want is gonna be right at your hands
And unlike the busy Pantalone childe has alot of free time on his hands , and you better believe he’s gonna sped every second of it with you , He just want you to be happy , to see that beautiful smile that gorgeous laugh , he just want to please you his precious boyfriend 
He likes it when you make those adorable noises when he’s fucking you , the cute moans you scream out when he’s balls deep inside you , the faces you make when he fills you to the brim with his cum
And he would be so proud know that he’s the only one who can see and make you like this , know that you belong to him only
You felt like you body was getting completely destroyed , with every rough thrust from childe as he had you in mating press
You legs spreading wide open as childe seated between them , his hips moved violently against your own his cock stretching you more than you ever thought you could take
“Does it feel good getting fucked with this cock that you love so much”
He continued to rearrange your insides with his big cock all the while observing every little expression you make , all the loud screams and moans just encouraging him to move even faster
And all you could do is cry about how good it feels to be fucked by him , how well his cock rams into your prostate , hitting it straight on with every thrust it just feels soo good
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^Scaramouche^
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This man is a degenerate motherfucker , how did you even managed to get together with someone like him
He’s a very hot headed person who can easily be frustrated weather your his lover or random fatui agent , he would get angry at the most random things he just wants a reason to scream
amongst all the harbingers he’s the hardest one to deal with , especially when he has one of those tantrums that he throws around when things don’t go his ways
But you somehow always managed to calm him down , maybe not in public but if your alone in his office and he starts yelling you know the exact way to shut him up
Just push him to the ground and stuff his cock in your hole and no more words will come out of him , all you would hear is his pathetic little whines saying how much he thinks your bad while showing the most lewd faces
“Yo-you fuckin- ugh.. whore , don’t even-know how to-hyuaah”
Despite his degrading words towards you , despite his attempts on trying to deny how good it feels he still couldn’t act well , no matter how much he says he hate it he just keeps moaning loudly like a slut
He couldn’t stop squirming around as his cock was being buried deep inside your hole , he laid still as you rod him so well hoping up and down on his cock , you hole being stretched on his cock
No matter how many time he tells you to stop moving you keep on going knowing damn well that if he really hated it you would be dead right where you sit
slowly his yells would die down , completely lost in the pleasure that is your warm hole around his cock , and without noticing his hips would thrust up in rhythm with you , and in no time he would start cumming inside you none stop
No matter what he says your truly the only one who can get him to be like this
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^Dottorr^
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Now aren’t you just an interesting boy , to make even someone like this man to feel things that he shouldn’t be able to feel , and it just started his curiosity
The more time he spend with you the more curious he gets , it came to the point where he’s obsessed to know everything about you , the moment he laid eyes on you was the moment of no return
Dottore is a doctor who lives off of his researches , whats he’s most know about are actually his researches , and when you two got together it gave him an opportunity to actually make his own research on you
And that exactly what he did , he tested your body and mind with everything he had
Tying you up and edging you for hours on end just to see how long can you last before begging for him , fingering you to see how many times you can cum before you become empty
He even invented some special toys with the help of sandrone , and just who’s the perfect person to test them out-you his dear lover
But but but isn’t that alot of work for one person , not to mention how busy dottore actually is but thankfully he has his little clones to help him out test the new products
One , two , three dottore’s surrounded you every one of them being a different version of him , same look different age and two of them is holding a different toy , or thats what dottore called it
You were being played with like a toy , as two of them were doing *tests* on you while the third and most recent dottore was taking notes , asY our hands were tied up by a rope hanging from the ceiling making you stand still without being able to move
A toy with taking the shape of a dick was wrecking you hole so roughly by one of them , and it just happened to be a vibrating one isn’t that just great , and another vibrating toy was being pressed onto your cock
And all you could do is squirm around , your legs was shaking badly and your body couldn’t stop trembling , but that was just the beginning the night is still long and dottore still has a ton of toys to try
“Look at your holding on so well , do not worry the fun won’t be ending anytime soon”
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^Capitano^
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Capitano is a very hopeless man on the romantic side , how did you get him to love you is still a mystery to others
Affection is a very hard thing for him to show , not that he is shy or anything he just don’t know how to or what that is to be honest , but thats why your there to teach him
At first you’ll teach him the simple things starting with dates , “a date is where you go out with your lover” is what you said and big boy capitano took that too personally and took you outside the fatui Headquarter in the freezing cold and just stood there , and he even had the audacity to call that a date
And thats when you learned that if you wanna teach him something you need to be as specific as you can , and thankfully your words work as he took you to an actual restaurant the next time
He loves you he really do he just don’t know how to love you you know , but little by little he learned and thats when you started teaching how to really love you
Teaching him the ways to get to you , the things that gets you hard , the ways you like to be touched , the spots that gets you over the moon when their hit , and in no time he knows your body more than you do
“Is this good , does it feel good when i ram this spot”
He asked you like he always do as he fucks into you roughly , you threw your head back crying about how good it feels , praising him telling him how good he’s doing
You wrapped your legs around his waist locking him up which resulted in more rough pounding from capitano , it just makes you cry out even more
His naked back full of scratches left by you , he even commented how your like a little mad kitty which completely took you by surprise by the way , but it made you comment on how capitano himself is like a dog since your body was completely covered with bite marks
And he took that personally , which made him start pounding you so roughly you felt like your hole would get ripped apart , never make a snarky comment while having sex with capitano , another lesson learned
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^Pierro^
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This man is a total dilf and you can’t convince me other wise , even if he doesn’t have kids just by his appearance alone gives off huge dilf vibes
He’s literally rumored to be a survivor of Khanria’h which means he’s over the 500 already , you better believe he had relationships during his life which automatically make him the most knowledgeable harbinger between his colleagues
He knows how to take care of someone , even if he is busy he’ll always make enough time for his lover , he would always take you to unforgettable dates and even more unforgettable nights
He know exactly how to work your body , the places that feels good he knows them all , he’s truly the best at pleasuring you
Oh how quite was he compared to your loud shameless cries , but you can’t help it it just feels too damn good , the way his hips snapped against your own how slow but deep they are
The hands you had on the mattress couldn’t hold on anymore as you fell face first onto the bed with your ass still on air , he will have you cumming multiple times from only him pounding your tight hole before he himself cum
It well take long for him to cum when he does you’d be to overstimulated to even speak , oh boy if you think your done after he came once you are so damn wrong
“It must’ve been hard to hold on that long , think you can go for a bit more”
🏷.TagList: @vyloy @gaybitchfx
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9K notes · View notes
zhongrin · 1 year
Text
cium aku dong?
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◇ characters ◇ zhongli, childe, wanderer, cyno, al haitham, tighnari, xiao, ayato, diluc, kaeya, kazuha, kaveh, thoma, dottore, pantalone
◇ tags ◇ fluff, domestic, established relationship, kisses. LOTS of kisses (duh), slight angst (kaeya i'm so sorry), slight suggestiveness on some, slight possessiveness on some
◇ a/n ◇ [en] “kiss me please?” aka the ways they ask for a kiss <3 uh? what... what do you mean i clearly have favorites? i-i don't..... *nervous sweating* ANYWAY. merry xmas yall!! we all deserve fluff this holiday season so enjoy <3
𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡
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“can i have my special tea?”
“darling, may i?”
zhongli is a natural at pulling you in for a kiss; most of the time he doesn’t expect you to kiss back, but he would be over the moon if you do.
you’re passing each other in the hallway of your house? he just leans towards you to place a fleeting kiss on your shoulder. you’re doing something and he passes behind you? he leans over to place a kiss on the top of your head and goes off his way. you sit beside him and plop your head on his shoulder? he smiles and scratches your scalp and places a sweet kiss on your forehead.
unfortunately (for you), on some occasions when he’s feeling a little playful, he might become a little tease; kissing you everywhere but your lips until you protest. to which he’ll chuckle fondly before finally giving in, pressing a soft fleeting kiss that promises you more when the curtains close for the day.
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“kiss meeeeeeeee!!!!”
“[name]…. who was that person....?”
childe is a master of surprise kisses! he makes use of his skill to erase his presence to sneak up on you when you’re relaxing, before suddenly tackling you into a hug and kissing you all over your face.
when he’s in the mood for kisses, he becomes a ravenous kissing monster who can only be satiated after at least fifty proper kisses. or perhaps a few rounds of long, drawn-out make-out sessions.
just don’t deny him of his kisses because then he’ll brood and it’ll be his poor subordinates who get the burnt of his frustration. and if you get gifts on your doorstep with a recruit insignia badge, you probably should storm your boyfriend’s office before he actually kills someone.
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“what? what’s that look for? heh, if you wanted a kiss you could’ve just asked. i~diot.” *cue the heart-piercing, soul-ascending blep*
“hey. come here.”
wanderer is either endlessly taunting you for the whole day, or being very blunt (while blushing furiously) as he motions you to come over. there’s no in-between.
you either kiss him, which will result in a smug smirk and perhaps a haughty ‘hmph, knew you can’t get enough of me’. or you just don’t… which means you’ve indirectly signed an agreement for him to be a total brat™️ for the day until he’s satisfied.
ohhh how unfortunate, your favorite scarf is blown away by the wind. ooooh, seems like it’s raining and there’s no shelter, too bad you don’t have a hat that can function as an umbrella. ooooo, what’s that? you want a hug?
ha.
in. your. dreams.
and yet when you kiss him he melts into you within 0.001 seconds.
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“[name], did you know? sloths never kiss on the first date…… they take it slow.”
“can i… hold you? just for a bit?”
when the kiss puns start to drop left right and center, you know it’s cyno’s way to ask for a kiss.
... the man uses his jokes to get people to be less way of them instead of saying it out loud, what did you expect?
he might not realize it, but he stares at you especially hard on these occasions. if it were others, they would have feared for your life, but you know this is cyno’s version of the infamous wet puppy eyes. personally, you think it’s very adorable because it’s so very him, so you can’t help but pretend you don't understand just to tease him more.
the population thinks you must be some kind of a beast tamer in your past life, seeing as how the general mahamatra always faithfully follows behind you and always back down as soon as your touch descends upon him.
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“you’re here. come sit. now kiss me.”
“i need to kiss you so you can testify to kaveh that i am, in fact, not an amateur when it comes to kissing. it would also be good if you can rate your satisfaction on a scale of one to ten- [name], where are you going?”
at the early stages of your relationship, al haitham isn't as insufferable; he takes what he gets, and he’s taking the time to get used to the idea of how he practically has the right to kiss you now.
but when that realization fully, truly sinks in?
oh boy.
he’ll be blunt, straight to the point, and unashamed. he might be blushing the first few times when he asked for your permission for a kiss. but seeing how much you got into it, hearing the breathless way you whisper his name, and witnessing the dopey smile after he’s done with you…
aha. eureka. it appears his expertise extends to kissing too. but of course, he is, as the youngsters these days say, ‘built different’, after all.
so why would he shy away from the activity?
now come kiss him.
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“did you know that fennec foxes go through withdrawals when they don’t receive at least ten kisses per day? it’s true, i have conducted extensive research on it. with me as the research subject, of course, so i know the result is 99.99% reliable.”
“there, i gave you headpats. now will you give me kisses?”
always so dramatic and sassy. tighnari loves seeing the embarrassed look that crosses your face and the adorable giggles that escapes you whenever he tries to initiate the activity.
the fox hybrid likes to pat your head and lean forward so you can press a thank you kiss to his face. he doesn’t even mind where your kiss will land.
nose? kinda ticklish, but that’s very cute of you. cheek? adorable, why thank you. lips? hmmm… do that again.
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“……….. what? i-i wasn’t staring!”
“[name], just a moment…. stay still.”
please just save xiao the embarrassment and kiss him regularly.
although your boyfriend might not look like he enjoys affection, he actually does. he’s just… not used to it and has no idea how to react, much less initiate physical affection. it’s something that he needs a lot of time to get used to, especially with his condition and background.
your protector yaksha is always so gentle when he asks for your loving touches - and most of the time he doesn’t even dare to ask - but the signs are there. you’ll really have to squint your eyes and tilt your head and maybe do a handstand before you realize ‘oh he wants a kiss’.
just. cuddle and kiss him darn it.
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“my, what a fine morning, don’t you agree, sweetheart? it would be even more perfect if i had a morning kiss from my lovely partner, don’t you think?”
“there you are. lock the door for me, darling. now, why don't you make yourself comfortable?”
teasing words here and there, his hand touching your arm more than usual, him stopping when you pass each other in the hallway to make some insignificant small talk even though he’s clearly hurrying to a meeting…
yeah, your overworked man is in dire need of some loving.
if you give in and pull ayato for a quick kiss, he will skip over to his next appointment with a permanent smile. once again, you’ve saved the day of everyone in kamisato estate. great work, you! pat yourself on the back because you deserved it!
but continue to ignore him and you might find yourself being called to his office just to sit on his lap for hours (which, trust me, it gets boring after a while) without kisses or any sort of affection whatsoever... so pick your actions carefully.
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“i know i should be working. but i wanted to… take a break.”
“love, your lips… n-no. it's just that. um. they look dry. here, use my chapstick.”
diluc? taking a break from work??
that diluc???
either he is very sick, or he is very much starved for your love. kindly think back on your day and check when was the last time you gave him a proper kiss, please.
what's that? you gave him a forehead kiss this morning to wake him up? oh. i’m sorry to say this but that’s just not enough. how dare you starve this man for four hours with no kisses. no wonder he’s unable to focus on his documents. please fulfill his lovesick daydream by barging into his office and distracting him from work with your wonderful, soft lips….
... please?
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“work? mmm…. unfortunately my battery is near-empty… o kind, beautiful soul, would you help this poor man back to his feet?”
“hello my love, i came by because your lips look lonely.”
kaeya is very obviously a teasing flirt when he’s needy or bored. mostly he adores the embarrassed look on your face; he thinks it's very adorable and endearing. it's a sight he wishes to treasure and forever imprint in his mind, to peruse when doubt and darker thoughts attack him at night.
but let me tell you a secret.
yank his stupid coat and pull him into a kiss before he can use that sultry voice to tease you. kabedon him when you have the chance to, while you’re at it. watch the cavalry captain become putty in your hands. you’re welcome <3
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“my dove, would you be so kind to quench this wandering man’s thirst for your sweet kisses?”
“it’s rather windy today… there you go, all set. ah, it's okay, i'm not cold. oh, i forgot. just one more thing- *kiss*…. hehe, i can see that you’re warming up already.”
longing looks and poetic words. kazuha kisses you like it’s a stray wind brushing gently on your lips, light and dreamy and leaving you wanting for more. his ruby eyes will droop with affection as you whine and pull him back for more contact. well, who is he to reject your generous invitation?
soon enough one peck becomes two, two becomes three, and then it turns into a soft makeout session and- oh is that beidou yelling at you both to get a room? haha, it seems like it’s time to change locations…
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“[name] look, i finished the blueprint for our dream house! huh? oh, yeah this is the… what, fifth blueprint? well, i can’t help it! we should have at least seven houses in all seven nations- eh? t-the mora? uhhhhh…”
“i need… i need inspiration… my muse… i need my muse…”
you know it’s bad bad when kaveh trudges onto your side like a zombie that’s been out running after people’s brains for far too long.
he slumps onto you completely (good luck supporting a claymore user) and basks in your presence, arms wound tight on your middle section. it seems like you’ve deprived him of kisses for far too long. he’ll recover faster if you hug him back and run your fingers through his silky locks. when he pulls back slightly to pout at you, and you place a sweet kiss on his lips, it’s like you’ve flipped a switch.
the legendary architect's eyes widen and his downturned lips flip upside down. he kisses you back with vigor and runs back to his drawing room shouting about some new calculations and other kind of materials he could use. what a dork.
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“[name]….” *insert the most adorable, heart-wrenching, chest-squeezing, wet puppy eyes here*
“i’ll be going now. have a good day, okay? i love you!”
like a faithful shiba inu, thoma beams and stares at you expectantly near the front door of your shared residence, waiting for that kiss you never fail to give him every single time he’s about to head out to work in the mornings.
will you ignore him and risk getting ayaka to visit you because ‘thoma seems very sad and distracted today, did you have a fight? why don’t you talk it out, i know you both treasure each other', or will you be an angel and make him start his day with the loveliest gift you can bestow your loyal lover?
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“based on the monitoring data of your hormones over the past few hours, it seems that you’re in need of kisses. what? me, lying? making up facts? listen to me. who’s the doctor in this relationship?”
“it appears another segment of mine has been granted the privilege of a kiss, so i demand equal treatment.”
sure, doc. hormones screaming for a kiss. will experience lethargy for the rest of the day if not fulfilled. immediate treatment is preferred as he does not want to be stuck with a grumpy, needy lover for the rest of the day, blah blah blah-
look. i'll translate for you.
he wants a kiss. dottore wants a kiss. just give the mad doctor a kiss.
huh? which segment do you give a kiss to?
….. it seems like all of them want a kiss. you know, just to be fair.
good luck.
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“good day, darling. i see that you’re wearing the necklace i bought you yesterday. you look ravishing indeed.”
“come here, love. i won’t ask twice.”
with every compliment directed your way and with every piece of new jewels added to your collections, pantalone expects you to give back some sort of affection. naturally. everything is a give-and-take, no? he provides you with all the luxuries and convenience a normal civilian can only dream of, and you provide him with what he asks for.
he’s not even asking for much - just don’t look at other men, focus on him and his needs, and pull him into a kiss every fifteen minutes. it's not hard of a task at all. surely you can fulfill it? otherwise, perhaps some disciplinary sessions are in order...
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© zhongrin | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!
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◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @diebischesther | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ladylofspades | @sup-zfam | @ansy-tea
5K notes · View notes
mooishbeam · 7 months
Text
『♡』 Treasures of the Fraud
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♡ featuring: pantalone x f!reader
♡ summary: it's been forever since you've seen your friend, and as the hero of liyue, a new interruption has arisen. you pursue it, only to find memories awaiting you. wc: 9.1k+ (D:)
♡ cw/tw: long lonnggg fic, obsession, mentions of murder, mention of suicide, mentions of blood, manipulation, toxic pantalone, mean pantalone, possessive, spanking, degradation, mild praise, fingering, thigh riding, missionary, overstim, begging, edging, comeshot, pet names (darling, slut)
notes: helloooo!! ive been slow to get stuff out college is kicking my ass rn so sorry. not proofread so i apologize for any mistakes. I can't wait to have more time :) art by yion_yi on ig! <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!
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12 years ago 
“Come get me!” 
The boy with inky curls spiraling down his back dips through trees, ducking under low hanging branches embellished with vibrant autumn foliage. Messy blends of pink and purple melt across the slowly bleeding sun carried into the night. His silhouette resembles that of a malevolent spirit peeking behind the boughs, leaping over tangled twigs and shallow ditches. His excited screeches signal you to chase after the leading direction. You’re both screaming and laughing down the undoubtedly dangerous shortcuts. If your mother knew about the adventurous risks you were taking at 13, you’d never leave the house again. Tag is a troubling game—despite the thousands of times you’ve played with him, you regularly end up being “it”. You don’t care about losing, though; having someone to call a friend is enough.  
You turn into a clearing with columns of trees overseeing your small presence, hundreds of them. The colder night is rising, not a celestial body to shield.  In this deep blue void, the leaves seem to be aggrieved at your interruption of some secret meeting, angry and smiling faces crumpling in the whispering wind. You spin around frantically, looking for signs or laughter, but neither reveal themself. It’s quiet besides the downy linger of grass. Your shoulders are snatched back and shaken to a rattling shock. You scream, and he laughs. 
“Rahhh! Did I get you?” he jests. Your eyebrows narrow, and you push him lightly to a stumble. 
“You scared me!” 
“Hah, that’s the point. C’mon, it’s late. Let’s go.” He's scared too, swiftly grabbing your hand as you both brave the darkness back to the village. 
“We should’ve been home a while ago” you say quietly. You feel the chill in your bones and press yourself closer to him. 
“Yea.” He holds your hand tighter at the sound of a small rock bouncing down a steep hill. 
“I had fun today. Let’s do this again tomorrow.” 
“I have something to tell you.” 
“Okay.” 
“I’m moving in the morning” he states. It was nonchalant, but your stomach turns a churning sickness. One you can’t understand yet, it makes you uneasy. 
“Oh. Okay, then.” It isn't okay, not in the slightest. But it had to be. Your best friend of 8 years looks at you, aiming to register the gravity of the situation. You both say nothing, but tears start to brim in your eyes in the silence. You wipe them with your arm. 
“Will you miss me?” he asks. 
“A lot.” 
“I’ll miss you too. Lots and lots.” He sways your interlocking hands. You pass by vacant homes tattered and aged by abandonment, overgrown with invading ivy. Homeless reside, caring each other to warmth from the freezing draft. You were lucky to have a home in this little forgotten sector of Liyue. It's a small, unfortunate room, with holes in the roof that drips when it rains and bags over the windows to keep the heat in. The stove never works, and you share a bed with your mother, but every birthday she makes sure to save just enough for a slice of cake with one candle. There isn’t more you could ask for. Everyone in the village suffered from poverty but they made it work, sharing crops and dairy to persevere until the next year. That’s how you met him, sitting on a rock as your mother collected rations. You perform two pebbles in your hands, mumbling sea shanties while imagining voyage on a grueling journey—he sat next to you. 
“Those aren’t dolls. They’re rocks.” 
“You’re a rock” you retorted.  
“No, I’m not.” 
“Do you want to be a rock?” 
“...That’d be kinda cool.” You gave him a pile of pebbles, and he joined the trip. 
You’re getting closer to the village, still processing who you’ll play with once he’s gone. You glance at him, he’s spaced out in a faraway stare. You crave the power to read minds. 
“Can we talk about something? I’m getting sad” you sniffle. 
“What should be talk about?” 
“What are you going to do after you move?” 
“I’m gonna be super rich” he assures, looking up at the starless sky as if a meteor would shoot across and grant his wish. “What about you?” 
“I’m going to save the world” you proclaim.  
“Cool. I hope you do.” 
“Me too.” 
You arrive at your makeshift door drawn together with scraps of wood and twisted rope for hinges. A dim candle glimmers inside, most likely your vexed mother waiting for your tardily return. He makes space for your entry, and you undo your hands for the last time. Before you go, he snatches your wrist. His eyes are foggy, cheeks an anxious tinge of pink. He isn’t sure what he’s feeling, but the strings in his heart are tense. His mouth shapes to say something, but nothing returns. 
“Yeah?” 
“...I... I’ll really miss you a lot” he whispers with a lump in his throat.  
“Then don’t forget me, okay?” 
“I won’t.” 
“You promise?” you say and raise your pinky towards him. He curls around it. “I promise.” 
“Good. By the way, you’re it now.” 
“I’ll get you back when I see you again!” he chuckles. You bid your goodbyes, unaware that it would mark the unforeseen conclusion. 
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Leaves crunch under your feet as you make your leisurely traverse to Liyue Harbor. It’s just before sunrise and you finished helping the elderly in Qingce Village carry copious amounts of heavy produce to their homes. The thankful candies from seniors' jingle in your pocket as you stretch your weary arms. Your mom offered to cook, but you're determined to locate the best commissions Katheryne had before afternoon. “Maybe I’ll pick up some rice buns” you think out loud at the rumble of your growing appetite. You still had a long way to go before you got to the harbor. 
This was your new normal. After your thundering battle with Ningguang and Keqing against Osial, you became an example of Liyue’s triumph. You also became more aware of Fatui tactics, wiping out their swarms with the raging fury of your pneuma and swinging vision. Days of grueling bloodshed resulted in your victory, cementing you as the lionheart of Liyue. Beat up and bruised, the only request you made after your fight was a hot meal and a place for your mom to retire. They delivered both, and you used your recent hero status to provide help to the villagers where needed, be it casual favors or ruthless assault on Fatui agents. You were neither rich nor poor, and lived off the land and kindness of the Liyue Qixing. They often suggested you focus on less mundane tasks, but to you, the most vulnerable age groups warranted priority. There was something about the lighthearted innocent squeals of children and mellow grandparents rocking in their wooden chairs that made you protective to an almost volatile extent. 
Bustling interactions of trade and commerce carry through the wind as you enter the harbor—a sound that’s brought you peace for years. The smell of food vendors has you drooling instantly. As you devour the complimentary rice bun, you feel the yank of a little hand on your skirt. You look down and a boy with brown hair searches for familiarity in your face. You recognize him, babysitting him numerous times. You kneel and pat his head, but he doesn’t react or move.  
“Hey, what’s up? Where are your parents?” you question, briefly scanning your immediate area for his family. He’s hesitant to speak, as if he can’t find the panicked words, and rushes into your arms. You hug him instinctively and let him sniffle into your shoulder. You pick him up in your grasp and raise his head with your other hand so that he’ll hopefully be open to your compassion.  
“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” The boy wipes his chubby tomato-red face. “Grandma is on the floor, what do I do?” You quell your rising nerves to suppress his alarm and speak calmly.  
“Where is she?” 
Speed walking towards the destination, the commotion of a small crowd surrounds a kneeling woman in the distance. She’s on her sun-spotted hands and knees, wailing for some bygone Archon. “Grandma!” he yells and jumps out of your arms. You run after him, relieved that the worst case scenario hadn’t occurred. You push through the group and get eye level with her, forehead pressed to the ground spouting religious scripture. 
“Are you okay? Do you need medical assistance?” Wise sunken eyes wrinkled with age and torn by tragedy stick to your heart. Her feeble hands encapsulate yours, and tears stream down her cheeks. “They took my baby!” she rasps, rocking back and forth. “Who did?” you ask, and she weeps harder. “They took her memory...my baby, my daughter!” You support her weight and lift her hunched figure off the pavement. “What did they look like, ma’am?” 
“A black hood...red mask” she recalls shakily. Instantly miscellaneous chatter ensues. They whisper nervously in each other's ears, he who shall not be named steals their voices. “Fatui probably got ‘er” you hear the mumble of one. Fatui. Your blood boils at the word, and you direct your view to the shrinking man with hands in his pockets. “‘He’ got all of us” he scoffs. “Did they hurt you guys, too?” you ask, and they stare. They’re pained but accepting.  
“500,000 mora.”  
“194,000 for me.” 
They list off their debt one by one, and you’re horrified at the accumulating number. They seem to endure, however; no longer phased by the incurable tally haunting their lives. “H-how are you paying any of this?” 
“We can’t. It adds up. Interest, late payments, it always does. So, we give everything, and ‘he’ takes everything, until we have nothing left. We die poor without a possession to our name” a woman sighs. As a child, you heard of the loan sharks that purposely fed false promises to the poor, and once they were reeled in, charged insurmountable payments to blackmail—it was the origin story of most people in your birthplace. Your soul aches for them, but is there anything you can do? 
“...I’ll help you, all of you. I’m sure I can-” 
Ningguang arrives. She's a nurturing figure to you, the kind that asks if you’ve been eating well and politely scolds you.  “What happened?” You lead the tired elder to the Jade Chamber, and she tells her story through choked sobs. You didn’t expect Keqing to already be there, arms folded and turned away from the situation. Ningguang can barely glance at the woman. 
“They stormed my home and took my jewelry and belongings. They took the pendant my daughter gave me; it had her face in it. Archons give me strength, my baby! I can’t afford it; I have nothing!” she quakes. You rub her back and Ningguang nods, listening—you can’t help but notice the anxiety blooming on her abstracted face. They take her through the process and once she leaves, Ningguang and Keqing look at each other with a silent understanding. The room is eerily quiet, and Ningguang paces back and forth in front of the intel wall contemplating an uncertain danger. You fumble with your thumbs. 
“What are we going to do about this?” you wonder. Keqing clears her throat loudly, attracting the attention of Ningguang. She looks at you, and sighs deeply. “We already know about this issue.” 
Your ears perk up. “Great, so how can I help?” 
“By doing nothing, (Y/N)” Keqing says. 
“...What?” 
“I have eyes everywhere; I’ve known for a long time. The Fatui are not people to be taken lightly, especially the harbingers. A few of their skirmishers were caught trading exotic goods and taxing medicine at high prices, on top of extorting the impoverished regions.” Ningguang points to one of the many Fatui exclusive headquarters on the wall. “Pantalone is the richest man in Teyvat, he has more political influence than anyone can imagine, and they answer to him. We can’t risk getting involved with this. They’ve brought this upon themselves, and unfortunately, they must deal with the consequences.” 
You can’t accept this response. How can they just desert them? It doesn’t comprehend in your naïvity—you scold yourself for not spotting the signs sooner, furrowing your brows and looking at them with distaste. “I expected this. You shouldn’t have said anything” Keqing chides. “...Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped before-” 
“You’re the last person I wanted to know about this” Ningguang interrupts. Your anger feels misplaced, and you bite your lip in restraint. She sits next to you and offers fleeting comfort with a graceful hand on yours. “You’re quite the reactionary type. In due time, this will be sorted. But right now, I need you to calm down, and trust me.” It sounds desperate, you know you shouldn’t go looking for answers, but a snagging thread pulls at the back of your consciousness, all too convincing. You bounce your leg. “You should want revenge just as much as me. Where we came from, where they end up, it isn’t fair.”  
“You know I do, more than anything. But we must handle this with care, before too many people get hurt. I’m doing this for the betterment of Liyue as a whole. It’s not easy to make these decisions.” 
“We can’t just go around serving justice, there’s laws we have to act with” Keqing adds. You don’t reply and stand up abruptly to leave. The worried Tianquan grabs your wrist one last time. “Promise me you won’t make a mistake, (Y/N). I’m trying to protect you” she pleads. 
“I promise. Thank you.” You flash a half genuine smile, already planning to rebel against her wishes. 
Who exactly is ‘he’—Pantalone. You don’t even know where to start looking. Too many headquarters, infinite possibilities. The best way you have to find him is through Fatui agents.  
You start taking up odd jobs late in the evening, scouring for the possibility that a fatui agent might fall into your hands. Though you considered playing the part of an impoverished villager taking out a loan at Northland Bank, it didn’t guarantee that you’d meet Pantalone in the flesh—it’s more likely that would raise unnecessary suspicion in the process. It’s awkward at first, seeing the hero of Liyue fish on the dock for petty change throughout the night. As you do, the malicious fire in your eyes burns bright at the occasional voice in chill silence. Your vision glows as you toss the hunting knife between your nimble digits. Listening closely to conversations, hoping that one might be unguarded enough to slip up, but nothing of the sort appears—not even the boldness of Fatui skirmishers enables them to divulge secrets under the baleful existence of Celestia.  
The moon illuminates sweetly on the tranquil waters lulling you to drowse. You hadn’t heard much since the start of your escapade. A fishing pole is weak in your resistless hold, and you’ve evidently given up on the idea of portraying the hardworking fisherman tonight. You vowed to help the people of Liyue, but justice was seemingly unfeasible. Maybe a direct approach? Should I ambush their headquarters? More so a suicide mission, you’d have no luck achieving that. Just as you’re about to leave, the crunch of withering grass straightens your posture. You make yourself hidden with a burst of energy and slouch behind the bushes as a Fatui pyro agent charges along the route. Through the glutted leaves obstructing your vision, you can just make out the heavy bag on his shoulder and jagged blade waiting restlessly on the other. His stride points towards Qingce Village. You hold your breath disguising yourself with the scenery and allow him to take a few feet between you before you begin following him. He’s rather shifty, those veiled eyes darting back and forth at the lightest noise. You’re careful to glide behind trees, moving with the heartbeat of the wind and taking advantage of the various melody's nature offers. You suck in a breath and duck behind a boulder a few inches too close, and his head snaps in your direction. The feeling of being watched besets him, but with no way to prove it and time running out, he secures his knife for the hypothetical ambush, and makes haste towards the target. Turning a tree, you watch as the pyro wielder knocks on the house of a small worn cottage. A short stocky man appears, shading half his body behind the door. 
“H-hello...” you hear faintly. The Fatui keeps his hand firm on the door, one boot propped under the hinge. He presents the flaming knife loosely as he towers over the man. “We’ve given you time.” You were sure now that he's working for Pantalone.  
“I don’t have it. P-please, if you could just give me some more-” He slams his fist against the wood, a resounding thump shakes the home. The man cowers. “Give me everything you have. The Regrator won’t wait any long-” 
A small rock flies past his mask, skidding on the ground until it comes to a stop. He glares in the direction of the tree you’re hiding behind. You have no plan, nothing but the distracting impulse to stop the assailant from attacking. “Stay here” he commands, and stalks towards you. His slow footsteps get increasingly louder, playful stomps toying with your obvious whereabouts. He twirls the razor-sharp knife, and as he sharply peeks around the corner, you’re nowhere to be found. “Here, kitty kitty” he taunts, spinning towards the lake, then the village grounds for footprints. He severs the air aimlessly in mirth, believing some amateur fighter came to challenge him. As he monitors the tracks under you, you drop down from the wiry branches. Legs wrap tight around his neck, and you catch hold of his hood trying to pull his mask off. He gags but he’s too quick, throwing off your steadiness as he slams your spine on the grass. He whips around to take a stab at your chest, but you roll away guarding the vital arteries. You kick him in the crotch, and he recoils giving you ample time to stand.  
You can’t feel the wet laceration dripping down your abdomen as you take a slash at his throat with your weapon, infused with elemental energy. He leans back and meets your strike. You trade blows, the strength of your smite bursting sparks of light above the scratches and bruises. Your wrist burns with the unmoving knives stumbling you. He begins to manifest blazing knives circling his figure, and you jump back from the singing cut melting the cloth. You wipe the dried blood from your mouth, and in the blink of an eye, he disappears. Suddenly, red auras similar to the pyro agent surround you. One by one, the clones charge at you, and you parry their overhead onslaught. Something is different about the last clone, your vision revealing a brighter outline than the others. When the next clone attacks, as you counter you pretend to fall for his trick. With your eyes on the other, he immediately passes through the black fog to deal the killing blow. You’re quicker this time and heave a heavy tear into his chest. Crimson splatters the grass, it shatters his element and rips open the robe. You tackle him on the dirt and wrestle until you kick his weapon away. Your knee digs into his back, and he can barely breathe with his arm locked behind him and knife rigid against his neck. He ttempts to swing at you, but you wrench his arm tighter and slice into his skin just enough to draw blood. 
“Fuck. Okay!” he wheezes. “Where is Pantalone?”  
“I don’t know what you’re- shit!” You’ve lost patience long ago and twist his arm to dislocate the shoulder. He lets out a blood curdling scream thrashing in pain—you tug hard and focus him. “Shut up and answer my question. Where is Pantalone?” you demand. He hisses in pain and coughs up phlegm mixing with reddening soil. “Kill me.” 
“Just tell me and I’ll let you go.” 
“I’m a dead man, either way.” he rasps and hangs his head waiting for the execution. You grit your teeth; a drop of guilt leaves a bad taste as you thwack the pressure point on his neck that forces him unconscious. You glance at the bag he left and limp over to rummage through the contents. Useless papers crumple under stolen items, but one note catches your eye. Presumably a to-do list, you read to the bottom. A list of homes, goods on standby exchanges—at the bottom of those, a rendezvous point: 
Report back- Yilong Bank, Liyue 
You rest in a plot of prickly bushes and leave in the morning after patching yourself up. You couldn’t stop now, not when you were this close to facing him. You soothe your body from the twigs prodding you all night, and check the wound suppressed by gauze. It’s a light scar now, apparent after bathing in the warm water on the outskirts of Qingce. You contemplated telling Ningguang about what occurred, but imagining the look on her face once she knew kept you moving. 
Tucking your vision where it can’t be viewed, you take a waverider to Yilong Port into the afternoon. You concoct a half-baked scheme, one that relies on every scenario being perfect to a tee. Unreliable, but probably your only chance. The plan amounts to scaling the building and breaking in through the office window, snatching everything owned by the villagers and breaking out before anyone notices. Easy in your capabilities, but you have no idea what the building looks like, nor do you know where the office is. The man driving wears all black, an outfit that stands out from the rest of the region. He stares at you blankly, and once you’re aware, you meet eyes. His smile is uncanny, stretching across his face with an abnormal friendliness. 
“Is this your first time at the port?” he asks, finger tapping the wheel. Be it sleep deprivation or ignorance; you don’t recognize red flags in his behavior.  You smile at the courteous face. “Yeah, the weather’s beautiful out here.” 
“Mhm, hot weather up here. On vacation?” 
“Nah, I have business here.” The minuscule edge of your vision catches in the light. He homes in on the passing twinkle. You wonder why his eyes widen momentarily, and his finger starts to tap methodically, as if memorizing a coded pattern. 
“Business...what kind?” 
“Oh...I have some items to trade.” You close off your answers feeling that you’ve said too much. He subsides with a stale expression. “If you’re looking to trade, you might find luck at Yilong Bank” he utters monotonously.  
“And where is that?” You feign disinterest, but victory is too loud on your tongue. 
“Up the mountain.” The waverider halts at the harbor, and he turns his head away from you unusually cold, akin to a mechanical bot shutting down. “Welcome to Yilong Port.” 
You make yourself invisible in the crowd and wait for nightfall. People still roam the port along with Fatui monitoring the front of the bank, which gives you leeway to blend in as you find passage around the back of the mountain. It’s a steep, dark incline jutted with irregular jagged stones. The imposing size of the climb tangles knots in your stomach, and you wipe the persistent sweat on your top. In one huge leap, you latch onto a craggy indent, and begin your ascension. 
Your legs feel like jelly with each contact of the unforgiving breeze. You sway alongside the spirit of anemo and swallow your anxiety before leaping to the next rock. Shoes plant into rock and nails excavate fresh cobble on the next jump. By the time you’ve realized, you’re already up most of the mountain. You tug yourself even with the land as a barreling gust of wind goads your glance to the ground, kilometers beneath you. Your breath stills, and for a second dizziness overtakes your nerves at the thought of slipping. I could die, one mistake and I’m dead. You focus, and spring to the next piece. Without warning, rock gives way into pebbles at the weight of your foot. You nearly plunge, but anchor onto the small bump out with one hand. You’re dangling off the edge, playing with death while you fortify your body. Hyperventilation makes your heartbeat thrum incessantly and stress palpitates tired muscles; If you didn't have your vision, you would’ve fainted to your demise. You bite the bullet, push your heels in and persevere through the hurdles. The next thing you clutch is malleable in your palm. You vault over the cliff, the smell of dew is overwhelming. The back of the bank—the end goal—is visible.  
One Fatui member remains in the front. You scale up the building effortlessly, nothing compared to the hell you just went through. Shifting window to window, your eyes land on the pitch-black darkness of the room at the top of the building. An ideal glow casts on the fraction of precious gold resting on a coffee table. This has to be it. You slink through the window soundlessly, and land on the balls of your feet. Analyzing the dish, you don’t discern the pendant. You can faintly identify some bookshelves near the dish, and tiptoe further inside. You creep around luxury sofas, and squint at the embellished glass case next to the door, containing all manner of jewelry and valuable possessions. You won; this was it. You scurry to it, moving with abrupt carelessness. One more step. 
Click 
The fireplace you didn’t heed is set aflame. It flickers sneering shadows on the opposite wall and brightens the case. You pause and hope. There’s a confining silence stirring in the room, like someone is with you. The case is visible now, and so is the key to opening it. 
You fell into a trap. 
“Looks like I have a little thief on my hands.”  
A bittersweet voice in the sable, reminiscent of rich dark chocolate, rolls off the room. He steps out obscurity behind his desk and your eyes adjust, revealing the tight black turtleneck compressing his willowy torso and gloves adorned with silver rings. You can’t see the upper part of his face, but the chains of his glasses hang in front of that duping smile. You expected the Fatui harbinger to be on the stronger side, physically intimidating. It’s not physical, but you feel a certain fear boiling in your body. He’s not terrifying, but you tremble. His presence makes your hair stand and sends waves of goosebumps up your arms. You can’t find the will to move your wobbly legs. His charmed laugh rings in your ears and causes you to hold your breath. He has no vision; you shouldn’t be afraid. You could take him on easily, why can’t you fight? 
“Hello, honored hero of Liyue” the headless man taunts. It makes it worse that he knows who you are. How long had he known you were coming? Was your plan doomed from the beginning? Your feet are stuck in molasses as your fight or flight shuts down at the man before you.  
“Now, tell me. What is the little thief doing, barging into my office to take the possessions I worked so hard for? Not very heroic of you, If I may say.” There’s power in his stature—you forget how to speak. He holds his palm out to you. Tangled between his fingers, is the ornate golden pendant you’d been searching for, a woman’s face in the frame. Your eyes widen, and the sweet familiar curve of his lips stretches in amusement. 
“Is this what you’re looking for?” The plod of low-heeled boots accompanies unveiled darkness, and you can observe his entirety. Amethyst eyes drunk with an orchid hue pool into your being. Lazy curls brush against his glasses and kiss his porcelain skin. He’s beautiful, a calm enticing rip current that sweeps you with immeasurable pressure before you can pull yourself out. He leans on the desk, observing the chain halfheartedly. If you weren’t careful, you’d mistake the look on his face for genuine kindness; you’d drown, just like he craved. Nonetheless, you can’t shake the emotion his smile grants. 
“Yes. That’s all I need, and I won’t bother you again” you whisper meekly, hoping that he’d let you go with the pendant in a spur of forgiveness. The jest in his eyes says something different. 
“Come get it.”  
Come get it. Your mind begins to piece the man into a stage of your life you’d forgotten. It can’t be him. Memory tells intrusive truth in short flashes. Inky curls spiraling in front of you as you chase. He was consistently miles ahead of you. It was irrelevant how far apart you were; he’d always find you. That big, curving smile for every match he won. Purple eyes glancing back at yours; the same ones that withheld tears when you said goodbye. 
“Come get me!” 
Tears stream down your eyes for the friend you thought you’d never see again. Childhood laughter bleeds into his current cat-like conniving snicker, and you gaze at his face. 
“I... remember you” you choke. He looks up without a smile, perceiving an unexpected thought, and meets your eyes. There’s a hint of affection in the warm smile beaming on his face. “My my, (Y/N). You have quite the memory.” 
You’re motionless, full of something that catches in your lungs. This isn’t the triumph you wanted, and now that you’re face to face you feel powerless. He must’ve known the entire time. Watching you fight and work alone, sending Fatui to roam in Liyue, all done to toy with you. Your lip quivers, swelling in your already deafening heartbeat.  
“How long...” you utter. He inquires with the tilt of his head. 
“How long have you been messing with me?” Your eyes adhere to the floor, pride that won’t permit you to shed misery for Pantalone. He drinks in your resistant frame, the kind he desires to break; perhaps this game of cat and mouse isn’t done, after all. 
“This hurts me too, (Y/N). I wouldn’t be doing this if you weren’t so…persistent.” Your confusion spills over in shaky, weak huffs. You can’t maintain your composure, and make yourself first to oppose the authoritative man on his own territory. 
“How could you do this to anyone? We grew up poor!” You shout with balling fists. 
“It’s inefficient to dwell on the past” he replies with gentle cadence and languid grace unrepresentative of his cruel tactics. You nearly regret raising your voice. 
“These people are at their wits end and you’re taking advantage of them” you chide. He slowly paces towards you. Pantalone looks down on you from height disparity, but the royal glower pities you, judges worth you can’t see. 
“Driven by emotions, are you that simple? You presumed that if you stormed in here, and professed a touching story, that I would suddenly see the error in my methods?” You’re not sure what you’re here for anymore or why you haven’t left yet. Subconscious urges can't determine if they should slap or hug the man inching towards you. “I simply enforce contracts and exchanges. No one can be swindled by a debt accreted on their own.” 
“No one asks to be poor either” you interject. Pantalone’s a foot away from you now, analyzing your reactions to his personal entertainment. He recalls the blurry past—the pranks you pulled together that ultimately failed from your loud hurried sneakiness tripping to alert the farmers, helping out for loose change so that you’d split a snack between each other that wasn’t big enough to share, gazing at the twinkling night imagining a distant future—you changed and stayed the same, but he keeps wanting more.  
“Weigh the odds. They either die impoverished or live by passage of loans. I merely provide a service. Does that make me so cruel?” You can’t find an answer. 
“You’ll always be my friend, but I need it back. It can’t be much to forgive someone’s debt” you plead.  
“You still consider me a friend?” 
“I think…you’re hurt. And you’re trying to heal. We all are. I know I’ve dealt with a lot as I’ve gotten older and I think you have, too. Power corrupts even the best people in this world, so maybe you’re not a bad person. But you’re doing bad things, and this isn’t the right way to get better.” 
Pantalone is quiet for a few long moments. His hands web his face, but you can clearly see the pearly fangs in his open-mouthed smirk. Then he laughs—dulcet and mocking, it lingers for too long as he throws his head back and relishes the obtuse notion. He gazes with insulting compassion and stalks towards you. 
“Incredibly…. gullible. Mora is the pathway to all endeavors. Devoid of gnosis or divine knowledge, wealth has rendered me impervious to control. Suffering and destitution only manifest if I will it. I am the guise of a false god, an emblem of achievement.” It’s borderline delusional the way he regards himself, arms moving in theatric grandeur, the star of his own opera. 
“Does that make you feel good? Stepping on the backs of the community that raised you, and abandoning them because they chose not to be influenced by greed?” Pantalone towers over you. His fingers brush light against your sensitive ears, trail to your clenched jaw, and finally cup your frustrated cheeks with the cradle of a long-lost lover. 
“It does, in fact. I’m not easily swayed by ridiculous optimism, that’s why I’m at the top. You’ve devoted your blood and tears to a region that will succumb to adversity in your absence. Is that not a pointless feat?” 
“So what? That doesn’t mean we just don’t help people. You have nothing without the Fatui, you’re a pawn just like the others” you retort. He brings his lips close to the shell of your ear, and his breath hot on the untouched skin drags a tingle up your spine. 
“And what do you know about the Fatui?” he whispers. 
“I know enough. You’re all disgusting.” He huffs out his nose. 
“Disgusting isn’t the right word. I’d say...opportunists.” Pantalone backs up, sliding his hand up your chin and tilting your attention to the intense glint. “But you’re clever, I’ll give you that. If only you were clever enough to know your place.” You'd forgotten you were acting out of line. You refocus your mindset to negotiation. 
“I’ll do anything you ask for the debt. Please, just give it back.” The word “anything” evokes a malicious yearning—so forthcoming without understanding the implications of “anything”, of eternity. He caresses your cheek. 
“Anything, hm? Even if I said to give up being a hero for good? Would you still call yourself a heroic traveler if you weren’t allowed to travel or adventure as you please?” he teases. Your mouth opens to refute, but you bite your bottom lip instead. Pantalone walks back to his desk and leans while dangling the golden chain. Now that he’s far, the invading space between you two shows how insignificant you are in this luxury palace. 
“Your resolve moves me. Consider this; make an exchange with me, and I’ll guarantee not only her debt, but the debt of all residents in Liyue forgiven” Your face instantly lights up, ready to accept it without thinking. 
“What is it?” you ask. 
“In exchange for regional loan forgiveness, I want you.” 
“...What?” 
“I want everything you have. It’s the fairest exchange I can make. Your obedience, your loyalty, and your body.”  
The choice turns in your frontal lobe. You can’t fathom giving yourself to a man, let alone a Fatui harbinger. It’s unbecoming of a hero to lie with the enemy. 
“Absolutely not” you assure. 
“Alright. Then allow their village to be reduced to nothing.” No, wait. “You may leave. However, if you do, you’ll cause great misfortune to that woman and her struggling family” You play into his covet so smoothly as you stand in the center of the room, reluctant to leave.  
“I’m not a complete monster, so I’ll give you 5 seconds to make a choice.” He sways the pendant in his hand like the transient time of an hourglass. 5 seconds, all you have to sign your life away. 
“4.”  
What if no one ever sees you again? What’s the point of sacrificing your happiness and freedom, are the people of Liyue truly worth it? 
“3.” 
You could threaten him, take him hostage so that a harbinger might bow to your demands. That, or they kill you, and the village suffers anyway. 
“2.” 
You think of your graying mom, the sweet boy with his chubby red face who cries over the smallest things, the grateful elders that give you candy after every good deed, Ningguang and Keqing stressing over the next financial impact. 
“1.” 
“I’ll do it.”  
Pantalone swings the chain into his palm, an undefeated smug overbearing as he sets it on the desk. There was never a point in resisting; he always got what he wanted, no matter how long it took to achieve it. He waited months—no, years—to get you in this exact moment. There’s a daunting beguiling charm in the way he closes the gap between you two. You glare at him; a temper common people would dread shooting. He assesses the pending punishment and lowers himself eye-level. He grins, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. 
“I can see the defiance in your eyes. Do you want to talk back? Go ahead, challenge me.” You don’t test this scenario and turn your head. “Don’t patronize me. Get it over with, ‘Pantalone’.” 
He quirks an eyebrow, and pliable flesh strains your teeth as your face is gripped rough by satiny leather. You’re twisted sharply to the calm expression—it humbles you. 
“That’s not how you address your superior. What should you call me?” You don’t answer promptly to his liking, and he tightens his grip. “Answer me properly, darling.” 
“...Sir.” Pantalone plants a sickly sugary kiss on your forehead, the kind that makes you forget how petrifying he can be, and lets you go.  
“Good.” He walks back to the desk and sits in the onyx chair embellished with silver jewels fit for a king. His chin rests on bridging hands. “Strip.” 
You don’t move, your heart hammers in your chest at the request and you stir uncomfortably. You have no experience with sexual gratification, let alone exposing yourself to an old friend.  
“(Y/N). Don’t make me say it again.” Keen agitation in his voice serves as a final warning. He eats you with his eyes, homed in on your hands clumsily snaking the top over your head. A glimpse of the scar you received during your fight with the Fatui captures him. He takes a mental entry, for an explanation that might justify why the agent suddenly goes missing. You were generally too busy to look in the mirror or analyze your assets, and pleasure was a removed afterthought—so the hungry fervor warming your skin and permeating the room clamped your thighs shut. You’re visibly flustered and nervous fumbling with the clasps on your bra while stabilizing your anxiety, and he delights in every second of the accidental strip tease. It feels like fresh meat introduced to a savage animal, and the instant your bra omes off, a new vulnerability coils in your gut. You move to your bottoms; the sheen of sweat polishes your plush thighs to wiggle out of them. You’re left in nothing but tantalizing panties hugging you in the right places. His eyes undress and redress you, tracing up and down the perk of your nipples, tempting fullness of your thighs, each unseen curve and perfect imperfect mark on your glistening body. He lets out a deep breath to stop himself from jumping over the table and taking you right there. 
“The underwear. Take it off” he says, an undertone of lust. You shimmy the fabric off and fully expose yourself. You impulsively cover your intimate parts and avert your eyes, but you can still feel Pantalone on you, ravaging you. He doesn’t bother telling you to put your arms at your sides, your bashfulness combined with an attempt at stoicism is comical. 
“Ah, the little thief is trying to act tough. That's cute” Pantalone teases and leans back in the chair. Manspreading, he pats his thigh. “Crawl.”  
He’s hellbent on shaming the defiance out of you. It’s a vile command, but you begrudgingly drop to your hands and knees. You drag your chaffed knees on wood, balancing like a newborn fawn adjusting to its legs. It’s humiliating and downright degrading; the cold floor fails at cooling your burning fever. You’re on the verge of tears, but Pantalone can’t help but smile. You get around the desk and look up at him, waiting for the next horrible thing he’ll have you do. “Unfortunately, the stunt you pulled impeded my paperwork. Be a good thing and sit on my lap until I’m done.” A “thing”—that’s all you were now, a shiny trophy meant to be ogled at but never taken seriously, used and thrown away. You stand off your scraped raw knees and straddle his thigh, hands balancing the leg so you don’t fall. 
And Pantalone starts to work. Working as if you’re not there, filling in the spaces on his documents. For some reason, it’s more demeaning this way, you truly are just a prize. One hand dances beautiful penmanship in masterful motions on embossed paper, the other fondles and explores your being. The gloves brush down your delicate spine, nonsensical shapes drawn on your lower back that make you shiver and pool heat in places you’ve never thought of. You’ve never been touched like this, it’s needles light on your skin. They move to your stomach, pleasant circles above the pelvis that threaten to go lower. He’s careful to trail his hand up your cleavage and behind your neck, neglect your hardening nipples and repeat the process over and over. He’s painstakingly slow, savoring the dazed arch of your back, massaging your inner thighs and dragging the sleek material over your rear.
Middle and index sweep across your lips, pulling your bottom lip to reveal teeth, and prods your mouth. Pantalone’s fingers are invasive, they exploit your gums and twirl around the squishy tongue molding to his appetite. He plays with the pink mass, and it fills you like a kiss. He’s everywhere and he hasn’t looked at you once. You hate it, the kind elegance and refinement of his technique that makes every calculated word and action reek of opulence. Yet, arousal pools on the surface, sticking to your labia and clouding your drowsy mind. It’s an extreme ache that doesn’t go away from cold showers or shrugging off like you usually would. You can’t remember what you did today, yesterday, or the day before that. The sensation of him consumes you and persists in spots he left. He smells of expensive cologne, hints of heady wood and sage. You’re lucky his fingers are in your mouth, or piteous moans would spill out of you. Flat on his thigh, the subtle jolts of his leg rub against your hypersensitive clit and set your nerves on fire. Throbbing swells in your core, and you struggle to stay stiff as your hips stutter.  
Pantalone knows exactly what he’s doing. Your labored pants sound like saintly melody while you writhe on his lap. The fabric goads your pulsing pussy, and you hang your head in embarrassment of the juices soaking your thighs and his. He’s surprised you have strength left to withstand the itch. You do your best to hover above it, trailing thick strings of slick. “There’s no need to pretend you don’t like this. Just give yourself to me” he whispers. And it’s so enticing, an invitation that might let you come if you ask. However, remnants of pride cling to your melting resolve, you can’t give in yet. He takes the fingers out and presses on your nipple, flicking the bud. You can’t hold the mewl, and he snickers.  
“So indignant for the hero of Liyue, to be on a harbingers lap, reduced to a pretty pet.” Your ears tune out the insults. The damp gloves pull and pinch your puffy nipples, then knead to soothe the pain. He does the same to the other, switching between both as he feels you squirm.  
He works on the last few pages. Piles upon piles of reports and records—they detail the deaths, or “suicides”, of clients who’d disappeared mysteriously after extended absence of payments for millions of mora, people who dared go against the Regrator. Unruly, uncooperative clients that take advantage of fair exchange, and pay the price for it. 
Your arms get tired, and you settle on him again. Pantalone starts to softly bounce his leg, enough for you to notice the friction on your clit. It’s too much, you can’t take it anymore, and start to rut your hips on his thigh. You look messy, smearing your essence on those overpriced slacks and biting back your moans. Pleasure flows in your veins, and you give up. His cock throbs nonstop, print stealing space in his pants. “Did you believe I wouldn’t catch you? You’re not sneaky enough. You’re not good enough," he taunts from the corner of his eye. You hump his leg like a desperate bunny, chasing the addictive high.  
“Nasty slut, fucking your hips on a man you barely remember.” He moves his hands to your clit and replaces the slacks with slippery leather. You grind on it harder and hold your moans. More, more, more. He coats it in the mess and finally diverts his attention to you. He teases your entrance gliding vertically on your vulva before pushing one finger in. It hurts at first, but your walls hug him eagerly, pulling it deeper. He coaxes it to take another and starts scissoring your gushy walls.  
“I’ll devour you. I’ll inscribe my name upon every surface of your physique until it adorns your lips, and I’m the only thing that remains.” Pantalone starts pumping rhythmically, tormenting, poking everywhere but your g-spot. Gloss drips down his knuckles and glazes his rings. 
“S-sir please, s’too much” you whimper, mustering up an ineffective stable voice. “Hmm? Can you hear the lewd sounds you’re making?” Loud squelches sing from him fucking your insides. Each time you try to speak, he elicits another moan. 
“M-my sto-mach hurtss” you whine. He holds your waist in place with the other hand and continues the assault. “I know, it hurts? Would you like me to alleviate the pain?” he coos. You nod fast. 
“Hold it in. You ask for permission every time you’re close, do you understand?” You don’t reply and try to angle your body to get more contact. You make the mistake of guiding yourself to your clit and earn a harsh stinging slap on your hand. “Don’t touch what’s mine” he orders. You’re frustrated and he’s doing it on purpose, it’s entirely too hot where pleasure and pain blur. “N-not yours” you stammer, and he stops. He pulls out your warmth and you whine from loss of pressure. Looking at him, there's no smile, and the irritation on his face makes your heart drop. You're really in for it. 
Without delay, your stomach flies over one of the chair arms, and you hold onto it for dear life. It presses firm on your ribs, and he slants your ass to the air. “You have courage, speaking back to me” he says. He pulls his gloves off and hurls them. They’re lovely, the silken soft hands of a man who hadn't lifted a finger through combat a day in his life. They sink into your sex, and you moan out for him. The other winds back, and you feel the palm hit brutally on your unsuspecting backside. Crack. It echoes in the room, and you almost fly forward. 
“Disrespectful.” Crack. He keeps pumping through it, and tears collect in your lashes. 
“Disobedient.” Crack. There’s blood rushing to your head, and violent smacks make your pussy flutter and ass ripple; his control won’t give you adequate touch.  
“Little.” Crack. Every time he feels you getting there, he pauses. A masochistic pleasure whirls innermost. 
“Brat.” Crack. Both cheeks are a sore fiery color and beginning to welt, but he resumes. You’re drenching his palm, sobbing from prolonged edging and Pantalone laughs. “Pfft, you’re crying? Too embarrassed to beg? Perhaps I’ll give you what you want, if you grovel hard enough, darling.” An incoherent orchestra of please’s mesh with broken moans. “Sir m’sorry. Wan’ it so bad, p-please!” you mumble. There’s no dignity on your lips, no residue of the hero you once were. Drunken ardor floods your short-circuiting brain. 
“Oh, what do you say? You want it? Is that it? I'll let you have it... but only if you say it loud and clear for me” he croons. He winds his fingers in a come-hither gesture that licks your core. 
“Please...I won’t misbehave again!” He spreads your ass apart and watches your hole pucker from lining the brink. 
“I’m not sure I want to give it to you now. It's a lot more enjoyable watching you squirm and beg.” 
“’M yours, sir. Please give it to me. I’ll be s’good, promise!” you mewl. You’re so pathetic, it’s endearing. He simpers and maneuvers impossibly fast while gyrating your clit. “How humiliating. You’ve satisfied me.” Your eyes roll back, and you dissolve in pure euphoria. There’s black dots in your vision, and it doesn’t stop as he starts torturing your overstimulated clit with the pad of his thumb. Your tears only encourage him. You jerk and spasm, but he moves where you move with insistent skill. “T-too m-” 
“Aww, what’s wrong? Isn’t this what you wanted, where are your manners?” Pantalone pulls out and delivers staggering mean swats to your pussy, and you recoil. “Say thank you” he demands. 
“Thank you, sir.” He hums and picks you up in his arms. Before color can return to your numb cells, he lays you on the desk. You watch him pull his shirt up to his pecs with haste and uncover the lean skinny midsection. Unzipping his pants, he unsheathes his leaking thumping erection. Even his dick is pretty, it curves upwards and shades a starving dusty pink past the thin strip of tissue on the underside of his bulbous tip. Composure thinning, a bead of pre come runs down his tip at the sight of provocation sluicing your ass and thighs. His glasses plunge down his neck, body blushed wildly, but he doesn’t care. Pantalone slides between your labia and groans at the sound. Engulfing the tip in awaiting velvet warmth, “You’re so good for me, hm?” he sighs. You embrace him, delicious searing stretch of your walls forming to his cock. Your orgasm builds just from your body accommodating the size. He places your hands on your calves and holds them at your sides. He slips out, and in one swoop, drives into you. His heavy balls smack against your ass as he thrusts frenetically in the gooey grip he’d been waiting for, stalking and spying for. He digs crescent shapes in your waist and uses you to his abundance. The desk base creaks and grinds on abrading wood and obituaries float to the floor with overturned calligraphy ink from the unrelenting momentum. You throw your head back and indulge the carnal lust washing over you both. 
“You’ll never see anyone ever again. Fuck- you’re mine, and mine alone. You’re nothing but a come dump, your purpose is to please me, hah, until I say it’s over” his voice is unexpectedly deprived and weighty with vulgar whimpers. Pantalone eyes your neck and encapsulates it in his slender hand. He clenches tight and releases in sporadic bursts that have you seizing around him. For a split second there’s the image of you—exorbitant pearled collar wrapped around your throat, with “Pantalone” inscribed in bedazzled letters—and he loses it. He swipes your clit rapidly and feeds you deep strokes; you’ll definitely die. You speak, but it’s unintelligible rambling. 
“Use your words” he lilts, squeezing your airflow taut. “C-can I, sir, please?” 
“You’ll do it on my command.” Pantalone thrusts frenetically, you can feel him bucking, twitching and quickly approaching his climax. His hips sputter, chanting some mixture of your name and curses under his breath. “You’re so obedient for me, aren’t you? F-fuck, darling, go ahead. Come on my cock.” You permit yourself to surrender, white noise streams in and time slows as you come down his shaft. A creamy ring forms at the hilt of his slaps. You recite “thank you” through wails with the semblance of a follower at the altar of their savior. Then he grabs your face and goes in for a kiss.  
It’s sloppy and misses half your lip, but its doughy attachment mellows your blissed out head. His lips taste like the bitter excess of green tea, and you crane for a better sample. His tongue does things his fingers couldn’t, and swirls around yours in a passionate bruising waltz. Pantalone breaks away, a string of saliva when he frees himself. “Mm, coming. Gonna claim you everywhere” he whimpers. Sweat on his lustered abdomen, he pumps his tender cock before spurting thick hot ropes across your tits and stomach. He paints your vulva with the rest and plunges the tip in your entry so as to not waste the endless globs of white. He tremors inside you until soft, and when some dribbles out he fingers it back inside.  
Afterwards, Pantalone opens one of the drawers on the desk and takes out an embossed loan dismissal form. You can’t read the finer details through hazy eyesight. “It’s already signed, so don’t worry. I won’t deceive you.” He caresses your face in his normal sing-song attitude. “We depart in the morning.” You don’t have a clue where you’re going or how you’ll get there as you drift unconscious. Once you’re asleep, Pantalone shuffles in a different locked drawer. He twiddles the stunning purple geode in his hand, a crystal lined mineral you gave to him years prior. He looks at you, then the druse, and cackles. 
“Mine. Always.” 
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tflaw · 1 year
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The idea of the handmaiden being shorter than the harbingers (like she's 5’0 ft) gets me going since they could easily lift her if they wanted to while having a rather rough lovemaking session.
Might have already sent this though, if I did then I'm sorry but my brain is failing to remember properly.
— THE HANDMAIDEN. PT2.
In the frozen land where the outcasts belong and the peculiar is home, tomorrow is never promised. Intertwined your fate with the harbingers might be, it’s in your best interest to remember: the cold swallows the weak and Snezhnaya knows no tears.
★☆ ! f!reader. part / installation of these drabbles. size kink as was stated in the ask. unprotected. not proofread. warnings for each character are as follows (lmk if i missed anything, it’s almost 2 AM here, my mind is foggy):
pierro — undertones of manhandling.
capitano — mentions of finger-fucking && foreplay. dacryphilia.
dottore — exhibitionism. voyeurism. he lets his other segments do you. creampie. undertones of overstimming just to be sure.
pantalone — rough sex.
tartaglia — foul legacy form. he’s sooo leaky.
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PIERRO !
who would’ve thought that there’s a hidden gem in the throng of servants in the palace? the fascination pierro has for you seems to go on unceasing. it is why he keeps you close. apart from your obedience, there’s one more charming thing about you that utterly has him bound and enthralled: you are small.
yes— small. he can control you in anyway he wants. flip you to his satisfaction, drive you mad with his brawn, and fuck you so deeply it will leave you mousy for weeks from the memory. sometimes he fears of breaking you, especially when he gives your little pussy such a fervid pounding that renders you shivering. you tell him it’s alright, i can take it: words that seem to drive him mad that he fixes you on his lap, holding your waist while watching your pussy sucking only his fat crown. impatient, he would dig his nails to your flesh, releasing a gutted moan as he slams you down and fills you with his hard shaft. all virility and nothing less than that.
CAPITANO !
despite not divulging the reason for his lusting after you, capitano thinks that it’s clear as crystal to anyone who possesses good eyesight. the equation is simple: he’s huge and you’re small. aside from the surge of adrenaline it pumps into his veins, the sight of you in bed is one he finds hard to forget.
capitano makes certain that your cunt is drooling before ramming his cock in you. call it safety measures, because it is. despite his infamous nature, he wouldn’t deliberately hurt you if he can help it. however, he sees your wet cunt with white trails of arousal dripping from the hole, and he’d drive himself in with force that takes away a little bit of his sanity. and yet, after all the preparation of finger-fucking, his cock remains a tight fit. your hole gapes around his veiny shaft, utterly small and struggling and fluttering. he releases a grunt, then, pitching his hips slowly despite the physical ache it causes. and even with the measured thrusts, he finds you trembling and crying from being filled to the brim.
DOTTORE !
dottore is a keen observant. and perhaps that is an innate nature that shapes who he is today. there are things that he realizes only after thorough scrutiny. and one of his favored thing— or person— to observe is you. he has been aware of how small you are ever since you’ve started to stand meekly beside him, hoping to get a good look on his experiments while trying your hardest not to be a nuisance. it’s such a foolish little thought: one that has managed to slip through the piles of ideas inside his brain and one he’s more than willing to carry out for the sake of his curiosity.
it has taken him only a few tweaks to use the clones fit to accomplish the experiment. this particular study gives no relevance to his existing ones, and yet it has brought him great pleasure to see you fucked out and senseless by his segments lining up to shove their cocks in you. dottore overlooks the whole experiment, rejoicing at the sight of your puffy cunt expanding based on whose cock and how large said cock is while fucking and abusing your walls. you look so good on his table with your pussy leaking from too much cum jammed inside it. the loads of his segments are an unstoppable current, thick in consistency and languid in motion while running down from the table. an experiment of self-indulgence— one that will keep him awake and one he will continue observing.
PANTALONE !
he likes to measure things. especially the mora that flows in his hundred bank accounts and in snezhnaya. for a man as ambitious as pantalone, seeing the actual size of something gives his ego another shove. he’s probably not the only one who have seen it, as it is palpable whenever he observes how the other harbingers look at you. the difference in your height is one that is not hard to miss— and most certainly the reason that drives him in a frenzy whenever he fucks you stupid.
pantalone grows a habit of pushing the back of your weakened thighs to display your pretty little cunt. before fucking you senseless, he’d press his cock just above your pussy lips, as if measuring how deep he’d go once he’s sheathed inside. he has the image tattooed on his brain, and yet he couldn’t seem to get enough of its sight. you can say it boosts his pride, fucking you with his sheer length, watching the pulsing veins around his shaft shape their thickness on your plumped pussy. until he’s out of order, going ballistic with lust. he fucks you with a need of one deprived man, savaging you to the point of surrender. because as much as he loves the sight, he loves how you cling to him and rake your nails from his back to his buttocks more. you love it as much as he does. and there is no denying, especially when you lock your legs around his body, securing that his cum would go straight to your perfect cunt and nowhere else.
TARTAGLIA !
tartaglia has nothing but adoration whenever you wallow in his wildest fantasies. which sometimes makes him think that it is due to your work as a handmaiden in the palace. although he has not heard any objection from you, this particular fantasy he’s been concealing for so long planted doubt on his mind. and so his joy had been immeasurable after obtaining your approval.
he was not wrong, though. it is truly a magnificent sight. tartaglia finds it fascinating how your pussy seems only slightly bigger than the crown of his cock in his current form. you can barely take him in: pussy hole stretched and gaping around his tip. the pre-ejaculate he’s squirting since earlier seems almost enough to pump your womb swollen. for a second he fears that his cock wouldn’t go in, debating whether he should change back on his human form instead. but you have urged him to go on— giving him full consent to ram his whole length in you. with patient thrusts he did— or at least tried to do so— until he couldn’t endure it any longer and pistoled his hips between your thighs, penetrating your cunt to the root and pumping thick loads that looks exactly like pre-cum. you have a long night ahead of you, it seems.
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anantaru · 1 year
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𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 + 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒
୨୧ genshin + favorite kinks feat. al-haitham : cyno : tighnari : kaveh : dottore : pantalone : capitano : scaramouche x fem! reader -> part one.
୨୧ WARNINGS: nsfw : throatfucking : breeding kink + pregnancy mentions : exhibitionism : aphrodisiacs : dumbification (calls you stupid & a mess) : size kink
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𝐀𝐋-𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌 + 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆
with al-haitham holding your head gently, with his own pace, testing the limits on how much he could control. You lift your face, sinking on the ground with your hands skimming over his pants that teared your gaze to the muscular outline of his thighs.
anticipation, the very thing you mastered to control with al-haitham's stiff cock towering over your lips. "open up." the difference in authority that seemed to have taken place, the sheer dominance he displayed with his arrogance prancing in front of you. Naturally, you did as he commands, mouth widened with your tongue reached out for him.
his cock was heavy on you, his precum melting with your taste buds as he slid himself further, deeper, until his tip prodded against your flexing throat. In a way, you could say it was a bad habit of his, continuing to throat fuck you might be his utter favorite part about you giving him head in the first place.
without ever looking away from you, al-haitham tightened his hands in your hair, peering through his eye lashes when adding movements into his hips, hitting the sensitivity once, twice, thrice, before applying pressure in his play. Your body jolted with heavy snaps into your mouth, al-haitham's pants and slow groans serving as a form of pleasure to you.
each thrust brought him closer to his release, with you continuing to do your best, gaining the upper hand on your jaw while forcing yourself to relax. Blurry, a way to describe your vision, as you scrunched your already half open eyes shut, melting with him in a deep hum that pushed him over the edge, clenching his teeth when the burning ache in him snapped in half.
face a mess, with the corners of your lips full of spit that drooled on your chin. Your nails grazed and rippled into his thighs in an attempt to gain stability from the hard way he was fucking you now, his climax there, washing over him. Al-haitham's warm seed ran down your strained throat, for some reason it was soothing, warm and familiar. You hummed in satisfaction, swallowing down the thick substance that dug into you.
"fuck." his attention remained on you, his thumbs clearing your face from your tears as he greeted you with a pleased smile, "you're so fucking good to me."
𝐂𝐘𝐍𝐎 + 𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆
whether or not it was intentional for cyno to edge you into literal oblivion, you could never be actually mad at him for doing so, your climax would wash over you forceful, more so tremendously better than any other orgasm you had experienced beforehand. Slowly, your mind grasped into the familiar feeling, cyno's fingers pistoling into your warmth with yet another release becoming visible.
"i want to cum already." wracking the last inch of pride that was left in your body, cyno bit back a laugh at you, enjoying the sight under him. "we talked about this." confidence was one of the factors he possessed and was a master in, his voice was always laced with it.
"please, cyno." your patience was wearing thin, he went at it all night long, you could've sworn you already heard various birds sing with you strongly believing that it was in fact, the morning approaching. Did your boyfriend really edge you all night long? without even letting you cum more than twice? short answer, yes.
"please, what?" with him softening his voice like that, it being low and whispery, made the agonizing ache in between your legs somehow a bit more bearable. "please, make me cum." you'd be damned, damned by that wry smirk he let out upon hearing you beg so fucking sinfully. He pressed his fingers back in, hard, pumping them back and forth without stilling nor haltering his digits on you.
shudders possessed your body when you rose your back off the mattress, climaxing around his slender digits. Your essence was exhilarating in his eyes, slick and glistering on your pulsating cunt when he pulled away, gliding his tongue over his coated fingers. With that view in front of you, you could've released yet again.
𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈 + 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆
your touch was overwhelming at this close proximity with tighnari picking up every detail off your body, your quickened heartbeat, the faint layer of sweat, not to mention your arousal that slicked around his stiff member. His senses were sharp, the tension in him snapping in half as he released himself yet again, pumping his seed into you with the slight scare of it pooling right back out.
it was beyond tighnari's control, the mere thought alone of having you filled up, his body grasping into that idea with goosebumps dotting up his skin. What would happen if he got you pregnant right now? his thoughts were intoxicating, tighnari licked his lips upon dreaming about your swelled belly holding your child.
the pause on his hips was barely mentionable as he plunged himself back into you, his little fantasy involuntarily made him hard again, painfully so. It was save to say you were at your limits, the inside of your thighs plastered with his cum, not to forget that your muscles were exceedingly sore, straining.
"one more time, please." what a rare occurrence, you figured, for tighnari to actually beg for something. It only took him to go back to his usual relentless pace, sloppily thrusting into your filthy hole that was already full with his cum, there wasn't a way for it to fit even more than that. Tighnari's cock twitched pleasantly in you, yearning to cum once again, please please, he's begging, moaning it as he spilled himself back in, pushing it up where it belonged in his eyes.
𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇 + 𝐄𝐗𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐌
without fail, the kisses from kaveh where the absolute best, yet what was far more worth than that, were the kisses he'd give you outside, hidden in a small back alley with your dress draped up. He does the same at first, but in very different places you'd figure out once he gets to it.
not to mention he'd also do it in different ways, with his tongue and enough spit, messy, so fucking messy and sloppily, it was wow, unrecognizable, it was amazing and addictive. You squirmed with his tongue licking over your clothed cunt, your panties damp with your slick glistering the thin fabric.
"fuck, i love it when you're messy baby." if you'd have to choose between various words to describe your boyfriend, the one that would shoot into your mind in a mere heartbeat would definitely be: blunt. Your lips parted upon feeling his hand cradle up your behind, squeeze the soft flesh of your ass before hooking your leg up his shoulder.
with your head slightly lowered, you were able to witness the lewd situation you found yourself in. Kaveh's red lust filled eyes were hard to ignore, not when he watched you like that, so eager with that infamous smirk plastered on his lips. "what if someone from the akademiya spots us, hm?"
you bit back a moan, the challenge he put you through was malicious, as if you could even voice a sentence with him licking your sensitivity in the first place. That's what it was all along for kaveh, bringing you over the edge and convincing you to do something so reckless, with him already deducting that the thought of someone spotting the both of you, would only pool the arousal harder out of you.
𝐃𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐄 + 𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐀𝐂𝐒
it seemed so harmless, resting in his palm when dottore ordered you to part your mouth, pushing the little pill past your plump lips, making you swallow it down. In any normal occasion, he'd let you take it without him participating in said play, but tonight was different, you wanted him to take it as well, succumb to the unnatural pleasure that had a significant grasp on you, one you couldn't decipher nor explain.
and so he did, dottore placed it on his tongue before gulping it down himself while proceeding to get rid of those annoying clothes of yours. Despite your best efforts to fight the feeling as long as you had to, you simply couldn't. How much you wanted dottore to fall victim to the aphrodisiac first, yet his resistance was admirable, almost as if it wasn't natural to begin with.
"what is it with you?" the fake sweetness he’d lace and throw over his words were almost sickening, sometimes you wished he wouldn't act as if he really cared, the both of you knew he didn't. Dottore adored to play, experiment and try out different things, not to mention witness how your body reacted to them.
"please, touch me." your face burned, feeling as if someone actually lit it on fire as you lowered yourself on the bed with him directly following suit. Dottore's digits skimmed over your skin, goosebumps arising. How could he be so fucking calm? didn't the pill work for him?
it didn't take him long as he grazed his fingernails over your wet folds, tracing the soft outline of your sensitivity before holding his fingers right above your hole, pushing past the tightness. "how wet you got for me." normally, you'd think he'd tease you, but everything leaving his filthy mouth had a belittling tone in it you couldn't stand, at all.
his fingers worked wonders on you, the erotic sounds of sex and pleasure falling on deaf ears as you realized one thing, a little detail you missed just a few moments ago, widening your eyes with your gaze suddenly piercing over his features and if looks could kill, dottore would be very dead by now.
"you didn't take the pill, right?"
𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄 + 𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
"now now." the disoriented state of your mind slowly calmed itself upon hearing pantalone's voice on your ear. "would you look at that." your lips pursed when you heard him laugh, a devilish smirk working in his favors as it made the arousal in you continue to grow as he watched your somehow hypnotized face.
"don't tell me i already fucked you stupid, don't disappoint me like that." that assumption, was of course, correct, much to your dismay. For you, there wasn't a way to contain the control over your body with pantalone fucking so roughly into you, with his hips not losing on stamina, at all.
the smudged gloss on you was certainly tempting him to adjust his pace for a much quicker one, cupping one of your cheeks to messily rub his thumb over your pouty lips. "fuck, you're a mess." as much as it might sound belittling to some, to you, however, it only made you needier, the growing ache in between your legs without a doubt, becoming painful, aching for that sweet release he'd never let you have right away.
if there were any thoughts of you thinking pantalone wasn't a good man, an asshole, he'd make sure to fuck it out of your brain, out of your body and out of your mind, dragging his cock over your twitching walls with a pleased smile on him. Pantalone tumbled forward into your embrace as your cunt tightened around him, holding his balance with one hand located on the headboard.
his hips were stuttering, with his pace becoming uneven as he watched your breasts bounce back and forth from the impact he inflicted on you. "my stupid baby." he creeped closer to you with your nails digging into his shoulders as he repeated his sentence with his voice making it sound like he was actually proud of fucking you stupid.
𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐎 + 𝐒𝐈𝐙𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊
how, was he supposed to fit in you? that was the question, wasn't it? it's not as if capitano was intentionally huge, even still he had to admit to himself that the little tingle of pride and authority that would surge through him whenever you struggle was beyond real, it stirred him on for more.
"it doesn't fit." if he didn't know any better, capitano would think you're throwing a tantrum in midst of it all, his large cock resting on your cunt and jolting up whenever he'd try to push himself past your hole, feeling all the more heavy on your sensitive folds.
"one more try, love." you're entirely grateful that he was so patient with you, so careful with capitano handling you like the most fragile being he'd ever come across to. His concentrated expression cut the nervousness out of your body, pulling his lower lip in between his sharp teeth while lining himself back up with your tightness.
one of his hands held onto your hips, keeping you close to him with the warmness of his palm filling you with great caress, calming your shuddering body down. At first, he'd always playfully try to push his tip in and out, testing on how far you could get him. Your legs shivered violently, the position you were in was uncomfortable when you weren't actually moving, slightly whining as you felt his tip flick on your hole.
it was one moment that counted, to phrase it better, one second. In this very second, capitano dragged both your hips towards him while simultaneously digging his heavy cock into your tight cunt, snapping himself forward at last as you cried out his name, over and over again, your eyes dwelling up with tears with your body radiating the fullness through your veins.
"just like that." sensitive to every little move from him, you cradled him in your arms, resting your head on his broad shoulder as you whined out yet again, carefully adjusting to his size. Warmth, lust, passion, those three things proceeded to carve themselves as you welcomed the overwhelming pleasure in your body.
𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄 + 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆/𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆
as expected from scaramouche, he became greedy with his sweet little antics with his sharp teeth digging into the soft insides of your thigh. As a matter of fact, he'd usually go pretty fast, it's as if he thought that time would somehow run out for the both of you. Yet right now, in this moment, all movements were slowed, the silence in his sounds were contradicting the devastating pressure of his teeth.
your heart wasn't capable to beat properly, not with scaramouche playing with you light that, painfully sloppy sucks on your thighs were more than enough to keep you going. Judging by the way you were moaning out right now, hastily with whines, he deducted that it might become too much for you.
in that case, scaramouche carefully stretched his hand out to you, without actually stopping himself from drawing out yet another bite on your thighs, gently letting his fingers brush over your bare skin. The tiny hairs on your neck stood up, with a hum of confirmation giving him the assurance he desired.
close up, his fake demeanor would break into small pieces with your touch on him, the shield he continued to build in order to not get hurt, splintering with another shiver from your thighs. The reactions he could get out of you were surreal, only enhancing said factor when his fingers circled around your slightly wet panties, hooking his digits into the flimsy fabric to pull it aside.
you could barely see anything with your eyes blurry, he placed the flat of his palm on your stomach before leaping a straight line in between your folds, to, for starters, taste you on his tongue. "look at your thighs." his brows furrowed as he dragged his wet muscle on your shaking folds with your eyes falling to your thighs that were coated with various teeth marks.
"all marked up and mine to take." your entire body was held tight with tension and pleasure, the sentence which held a sound akin to trust and happiness, impacted your breath to quicken with heat prickling on your cheeks. Your hands found their way to his head, gently massaging his scalp as another hum of affirmation crossed his lips.
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part one.
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