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ddollipop · 2 years

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PUT YOUR HANDS ON ME. . . ! — ( PANTALONE. )

#. synopsis! — pantalone plays around with his new favorite employee in his office .

#. contains! — explicitly nsfw content , slight begging , cum eating , creampie , boss x employee , skullfucking , deepthroating , sloppy blowjob , reader calls pantalone "sir" , office sex , dirty talk , vaginal fingering , light degredation .

#. word count! — 4.3k .

There’s an all too well-known cycle of debt in Snezhnaya. It’s far easier than one might imagine to reach out for help from the Fatui, and in many circumstances, it becomes an offer far too enticing to ignore. But a bitter truth remains under all the posturing, under all the seemingly happy smiles that hide thinly veiled sins beneath the surface. And that bitter truth is that no debt, no matter how small, will ever go unpaid if you’ve gotten yourself wrapped up with the organization that runs this nation both from the shadows and in broad daylight.

Thus, here you are; working under the ninth of the eleven Harbingers, a man with undeniable charm, effortless charisma, and strict rules for those he oversees. Admittedly, it’s unusual for the Regrator to allow a lowly debt-payer to take up work in his vicinity, —but something about you seemed to pique his interest. Maybe it was that three million Mora debt your gambling addict of a father somehow managed to wrack up on a consistent losing bender, or maybe it was just that you seemed so painfully out of place standing before him.

As you’d come to learn very quickly, Pantalone is no stranger to delegating tasks to those that owe outstanding debts. However, it’s highly unusual that he would ever take someone in under his own supervision so carelessly. Although, you’re certain that he likely knows everything there is to know about you by now. . . Born in Snezhnaya to a working class family, one that was virtually torn apart by the loss of your mother. After her passing, your father went “off the deep end” as many would say; —started drinking, began disregarding the very-much-so alive members of his family, and blew everything on pointless bets and games that were all but specifically designed for him to fail.

And so here you are again, the eldest child of the house. . . The daughter that has to clean up the mess he’s made of everything.

It could be worse, you suppose. Pantalone is strict, but offers a fair amount of praise when the moment calls for such a thing. He’s easy on the eyes as well, which certainly doesn’t hurt. As long as you keep yourself in line, he’s relatively gentle and seems to value positive employer/employee relationships. Those make it easier for everything to work like “a well oiled machine” as he once put it.

Still, standing before him, your nerves are shot. You’re no fool, and you know much better than to trust the front he’s put on for you thus far. Above all else, this man is a Harbinger, and he likely has no qualms about forcing people to bend to his will by whatever means necessary. Though, it’s not as if you have much to offer him. You spared what little Mora you had in hopes of making a small dent in your father’s debts, and since then, every morsel you’ve made has gone directly to lining the pockets of the Fatui. The only other thing he could possibly take is the clothes off your back, —and even then, this is the uniform he gave to you at the start of the month, so it’s hardly yours to begin with.

“You seem nervous,” he notes, a barely-there smirk playing on his lips as he closes the door to his office.

The little clink that resounds throughout the room has you taking in a sharp, quick breath in hopes of steadying your mind. It doesn’t work.

He leans in a little closer, —close enough to feel the ghost of his breath against the shell of your ear, whispering: “Do I scare you?”

You’re uncertain of how to reply. If he were anyone else, you’d just be honest and admit that he does. But, then again, if he were anyone else you likely wouldn’t be scared to begin with. Pantalone is not anyone else, though. He’s the kind of man you’d hate to make your enemy.

“No sir,” you say softly in reply, voice close to quivering which easily gives you away.

He knows you’re lying like the priceless rug his glossy, cuihua wood desk sits on, —and maybe if you were anyone else he wouldn’t take kindly to that sort of deception, But you too are not anyone else, and if anything, he finds your feeble attempt at hiding your nerves to be endearing. The small puff of air he releases from his nose with a quiet, low snicker leaves your shoulders visibly stiff.

“No?” Pantalone inquires further, hands traveling up your arms to smoothe over the plane of your tense shoulders.

If you didn’t know better than to let your guard down, he might well have disarmed you then and there. He can be deceptively gentle when the need arises, and that much has been clear from the start. It’s just that now you yourself are at the receiving end of his underhanded tactics.

“Then you’re in desperate need of a massage,” he comments flippantly.

You know he has no intention of giving you one; least of all one with only concern for your well being at the forefront of his mind. He’s playing at something, —though you can’t say what.

“I’ll keep that in mind, sir,” you answer.

“Sir,” he muses, and though you can’t see his face from this angle, you can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he kneads the pads of his fingers against you ever so softly, “that has a lovely ring when you say it.”

He’s close enough now for you to catch the scent of his cologne. It smells expensive and sweet, —made of warm tones and likely concocted for Pantalone’s use alone. Designed to be pacifying.

“Say it again.”

The request —demand?— leaves your breath hitching in your throat. He can feel the way your shoulders tense harder, shaking slightly under the pressure of it all. When you fail to do as he’s asked of you, he moves to stand in front of you.

“Cat got your tongue?” He asks.

His thumb glides along your bottom lip, the side of his index finger coming to rest just below your chin. You hate to admit it, but when he’s so close it’s all too easy to wonder what his lips would feel like slotted against yours in an ardent kiss. He stirs something within you, and he seems to know that despite you having never said it aloud. You can’t help it when your gaze flickers between his curious eyes and his mouth.

“You’re free to take a taste," he says, so quickly that it's startling, —as if he'd been waiting for your line of sight to drift there forever.

You hesitate, —but you can’t deny that you’re willing to take him up on the offer. You can’t deny that you’re curious.

Pantalone waits patiently, as if to tell you that denial is an option if you’d like to take it.

Unfortunately, you don’t.

His lips are soft and warm, perfectly unchapped despite the harsh, everlasting Snezhnayan winter. His hand moves to the left, forming sweetly to the side of your face as his lips move in tandem with yours immediately. It’s clear in that moment that he never had a doubt you’d take him up on his offer. He knew your decision before you'd even made it. Or, rather, he'd been arrogant enough to assume it and had just gotten the luck of the draw.

"I admit," he says between hungry, breathless kisses, "I don't typically indulge myself with those who work for me."

That doesn't come as a shock to you. For whatever it's worth, he's not a bad boss. . . And even after this, you doubt you'll feel any differently about that. He’s been fair to you, if a bit strict, and he doesn’t seem to be the type to take advantage of anyone in a manner such as this. Although you don’t know him well enough to be certain of it, your gut tells you you’ve hit the nail on the head. Not to mention the fact that a man like him likely has many things to hide, and allowing the wrong person to get in too close would be something akin to career suicide.

A part of you wants to ask “why me?” —wants to ask what could possibly make you so special in his eyes. After all, you’re by no means a unique case. You’re sure he’s seen innumerous women just like you swing in and out on account of a loved one’s irresponsibility.

His next comment answers your unasked question.

“But you always look at me with such a sweet, innocent stare,” he says, voice low. “It’s been driving me wild.”

It dawns on you then just how human Pantalone truly is. He may well be a Harbinger, —but he’s also a man. A man with wants, yearnings, and needs. A man of desires in the same way that you are a woman of them.

He kisses you with tongue this time, loving the way your shoulders stiffen once again in surprise as you let him have his way. Admittedly, he’s a bit of a control freak. He likes to call the shots anywhere he can, and the way you’ve passively taken to his ebb and flow has him half-hard already from the rush of it all. He’s surprisingly gentle, but you have a feeling it won’t be like that forever. In the same manner he is both a man with needs and a Fatui Harbinger, you can only assume he is also a man of soft touches and strict adherence to dominance.

Without missing a beat, he tugs you along. His lips hungrily crave for yours as he positions himself against his desk, leaning back on it. He steadies himself with the glossed edge, jutting a single knee out and slinking it between your quavering legs, hiking up your skirt quite a bit. The coarse fabric of his dress pants is rough against the thin, silken material of your underwear. A tiny moan escapes your lips as the friction sends a little pulse of electricity to your veins.

"How cute," Pantalone quips, nipping lightly at your bottom lip. "You're already making noise and I haven't even properly touched you.”

This man is far from inexperienced, and that much has been clear from the start. He knows how to draw you in with little more than his eyes alone, commanding you around with the sharpness of his gaze. It’s intoxicating; the way he pulls you in and twists your desires, making himself completely and utterly irresistible to you.

He peppers kisses down the column of your throat, loving the way it feels when you swallow, muscles contracting just behind your skin. A hand of slender fingers threads through your hair, barely ghosting the tips against your scalp before he’s yanking on the strands, exposing more of your neck for him to feast on. Though the primal side of him wants nothing more than to sink his teeth into you, bite, bruise, and mark you up so you’ll be unable to forget about this encounter too easily, the business-savvy side of Pantalone knows better.

People in the workplace love to talk, —love to gossip. And if word of this, if only in the form of speculative rumors, were to get around. . . Well, that wouldn’t be very pleasant, to say the least.

When his teeth graze your earlobe, an ecstatic shiver creeps up your spine.

“Let's put that pretty little mouth to some good use, hm?”

Before you can really wrap your reeling mind around your position, he has you on your knees at his feet. He loves the way you look up at him with innocent doe-eyes, gaze like an animal caught in the spotlight. You’re so sweet, maybe even somewhat bitter, and he’s not sure he’s ever wanted anyone more.

Those coarse dress pants bunch around his knees, and the cock that rests between his thighs is semi-hard by the time you take him in your hand, guiding the warm tip to your lips. His taste is surprisingly neutral, but your jaw has a harder time adjusting to his girth than your tongue does to his flavor.

Pantalone is startlingly gentle when it comes to this. He doesn’t snake his long fingers through your hair and push you down, down, down until your nose brushes against the skin of his lower stomach. He simply watches with curious, cat-like eyes as you test your limits on him, slicking him up, attempting to find a rhythm that doesn’t feel so awkward.

No discouraging comments come from above. Instead, Pantalone presses a large, warm hand to the crown of your head and smooths it down your hair as if to say that you’re doing fine, —that you’re making him feel good just by giving it your best.

The first time you gag, he hums. Although you pull away at first, scared of the sudden reflex, you slowly adjust to him, and Pantalone offers you time to do so. He likes the way you're so persistent, yet inexperienced all the same. The idea that he's the first man to ever have you like this is. . . Exciting, even if he’s just making an assumption. It fills him with a sense of pride that he hasn't felt in a long time. It’s different.

But his gentleness doesn’t last.

It began to fade the minute he fisted a handful of your hair, eliciting a surprised moan from you. Pantalone likes the way it vibrates against the cock stuffed in your pretty little mouth, lips puffy from the rough kisses forming around him. Your gaze seems to shake.

He can’t hold himself back anymore. He can’t play it nice when you look up at him like that, just begging for your throat to be fucked raw.

As both his hands wrap around the back of your head, holding you steady and in place, you’re by no means naive enough to misunderstand what’s about to happen. He catches your gaze just before he rolls his hips, member slipping down your throat. He busies himself with every nook and cranny, feeling the way you contract around him, pulling him in, pushing him out, again and again. He uses your mouth like a toy to be played with, one that he’s taking his sweet time in savoring every micro-movement of.

You’re gagging and sputtering, spit pooling in your mouth and spilling out the corners as he has his way with you. It’s so sloppy and hot, sweeping you away until you can’t feel anything at all besides the yearning for him to fuck you on his desk like an animal and his fat cock closing off your airways, sneaking in breaths between the harsh movements of his lean hips.

“Play with yourself,” he grits through his teeth, and you do as he says, slipping a hand between your thighs to nudge at the sopping heat there.

Your panties are completely and utterly ruined, soaked with arousal, and it’s all his fault. You can’t seem to recall a time when you’ve ever been this turned on, —pussy drooling and so sensitive to every little touch as you run your fingertips along yourself in feather-light touches.

Pantalone pauses with his cock buried in your throat, then slowly removes himself completely. He’s rock hard, covered in your saliva, and oozing pre-cum from the tip. He’s fucking throbbing, so close to bursting and yet saving that for later, and apparently, nothing seems to get him off more than watching you dance those nimble little fingertips across your clothed pussy, spit dripping from your chin to all over the floor of his office.

He clicks his tongue in disapproval, and your hand stops moving between your legs.

“Look at the mess you made on the floor of my office,” he demands. “Clean it up.”

The moment you move to do so with your hand, he hisses.

“No, not like that,” he nearly growls. “Use your fucking tongue.”

You’re torn between that being sexy and completely disgusting, but in the end, you do as he says with no questions. Inhibitions are lowered when you’re as horny as this, after all, and the way Pantalone strokes himself to the scene is enough to push you to do it.

“Don’t you dare swallow,” he notes, watching as you lap at the mixture of semen and spit on the floor, only to hold it in your cheek.

You lap at the wet splotches on the ground a few times, collecting the spillage on the flat of your tongue before he tugs you roughly to your feet. He tears your blouse open, popping all the buttons off as if it were an easy feat. Your bra comes off simply as he unclasps it with grace, only to discard it and suckle on your nipples. He bites at your breasts, marking himself there instead of on your neck. When his mouth is on one, his hand is on the other, making sure the both of them receive the rightful attention they deserve. He loves the way your flesh shifts under pressure, —loves the way you’re trying to squeeze your legs together for some relief.

“Such a little whore for me,” he mumbles, obviously so proud of himself for having made you like this.

In any other circumstance, his arrogance likely would have been infuriating, but as he looms just above you, mouth suctioned to your tit, hand roughly massaging at every lob of flesh he can get his hands on, it serves only to leave you moaning in pleasure. Your toes curl the moment he pushes your skirt up around your midsection, tearing your panties down and situating you on his desk.

Pantalone steals the heels off your feet, then does away with your underwear too. You’re practically glistening in the sunlight that spills in from his open office window. The only article of clothing left on your body is the skirt that he rendered useless the moment he bunched it up and hiked it up around your middle. He further positions you, —one foot on opposite sides of the desk, spreading you open for his entertainment.

“Just fucking look at that,” he says, slapping the flat of two fingers against your slit, making you jolt a little. “You’re soaked for me.”

Your breathing becomes ragged the moment he smacks those digits against you again, then once more, and then so many more times that you completely lost the ability to count. He admires the way your arousal sticks to the pads of his fingers, watching as it stretches for a few moments then snaps away. This pretty pussy, sopping wet and begging to be pleasured, is all his. And he knows that.

With how turned on you are, he has no trouble sinking two fingers inside, prodding at your insides. You gasp when he’s up to the knuckles, mewling over every little touch and every little move Pantalone makes. It’s hard to keep all the contents you lapped up in your mouth when he’s got you going crazy like this. The pad of his thumb comes down against your clit, drawing rough circles on it as your back arches and your thighs shake. You’re so vulnerable here, exposed for his eyes only as your cunt convulses around his fingers, attempting to suck him in deeper.

“Spit,” he commands, placing a free hand right below your mouth.

You do, depositing his seed, your saliva, and whatever the fuck else you likely picked up off the floor with your tongue into the palm of his hand. There’s something so erotic about the way it drools out, stringing along your lips. He slicks himself up with the mixture, leaning in close to press a kiss to your mouth.

A surge of new warmth surrounding the digits he has buried in your snatch lets him know that you’re still dripping with need, hungry little pussy ready for whatever he has to give you. He’s not one for teasing in this regard. He prefers to get straight to the point; or maybe he’s just so achingly hard that he needs to be inside you right this instant and couldn’t be fucked to finger you on this desk for any longer when he knows what you really want is his cock buried inside you.

The moment he presses inside with reckless abandon, you realize that his previous gentleness had simply been a clever deception to ease you into things. He isn’t someone with that much self control. At the end of all things, he is but a beast at heart; the man between your legs pounding into you so deeply that your body is shaking under the weight of his lust. He’s touching places inside you that you hadn’t ever realized could feel this good; —fucking you so nice and so deep that your mind has already started checking out.

Stars were practically hanging behind your eyelids the very moment he slid inside, hammering in and out with every ounce of energy he has to offer. His stamina for this is jarring, but it feels so good that you don’t have the time nor the will to dwell on it. All that matters in the moment is his thick cock pounding you out, his skin slapping against you, —setting fireworks off inside your gut.

It’s all too easy to get swept away when he touches you like this, both inside and out. You let out a shattered cry and he uses it as fuel, gripping at your hips and forcing you closer. You’re the prettiest mess he’s ever seen, —the prettiest mess he’s ever made. He wants to keep you locked away from the world, save you for his own, though he knows that’s an unreasonable request. Not that he’s ever claimed to be a particularly reasonable man anyway.

He’s so smug about this though, so goddamn proud of himself that it’s almost sickening. He loves the choked noises you make, the way you try to swallow moans and find yourself whining instead. He’s dangling your high by a thread, and he knows exactly what buttons to push to get you going.

And push he does, every single one of them, ghosting past every sweet spot buried within. For as much as this is all for him, a means to an end, he’s taking care of you, too. . . It’s romantic, if you squint and tilt your head a little.

You reach up with a trembling hand, and Pantalone only reacts with a sharp breath in as you tangle your fingers in his hair. You hold him tight, pull him closer, —push him more. Your strong grip comes in great contrast to the sloppy execution of his movements as he draws closer to his peak, orgasm shivering just below his skin. Really, he’s surprised he’s managed to edge himself along for all this time. It crackles just beneath the surface, ready to explode.

To think someone of his stature would be fucking you senseless, getting you drunk off his dick in the middle of the day right on top of his desk. The desk he signs important papers at, reviews work samples and contemplates futures at. . . All of that and more, and yet here he is, length sliding smoothly in and out of you, looking so handsome that it’s almost unreal. The glisten of your juices on his member is far too enticing to ignore, so he fixes his gaze there, watching as you swallow him up, taking all of him in like the good girl he’s always known you to be.

The squelch of your pussy has him gritting his teeth, jaw aching in the aftermath. Your walls grip at him, massaging him down, clouding his mind and fogging up his inhibitions. Whatever it takes to have you convulsing on him, crying out as you’re speared on him, cumming all over him as he chases his own release inside you, is what Pantalone will do. He’s vying for it no matter what it takes.

“Fuck,” he hisses, then continues with a demand, “—let me hear you beg.”

If you’d been any further along, his command likely would have fallen on deaf ears.

“Please,” you vocalize reflexively, “please, please, please don’t stop.”

Not that he had any intention of doing so, but the sound of your voice, so broken and desperate, hanging on the edge, really presses him that much further into your divine. He might be the one largely in control, the dominating figure in this instance, but he’s still drowning in your ocean. Pantalone isn’t sure he’s ever felt desire this sincere, this all-encompassing. He’s practically losing parts of himself inside you.

“How’s it feel?” He asks, though he’s positive he already knows the answer by the way your toes are curling around the jutting edge of his desk.

“Good,” you gasp, “so good, sir.”

That’s all it takes.

As your walls tighten around him, overstimulation driving you completely and utterly into the abyss, Pantalone lets you wring him dry for every last drop he’s worth. There’s a stutter to his breath and a relief in the way he sighs, panting and attempting to collect himself. His chest heaves and your eyes are having a hard time focusing again, having rolled so far in your head that you were seeing starlight.

The cum he spilled inside is thick and warm, leaking out the minute he pulls his cock out. It drips down the front of his desk, so erotic and defiling. . .

“Don’t waste it,” he complains, stuffing two digits inside you to stuff the cum back in.

You half expected him to scoop the rest of it up with his fingers and demand that you clean it off with your tongue.

He doesn’t, but your walls react, clenching around him, and suddenly, he’s not so keen on letting you get back to work anymore. . .

#pantalone smut #fatui harbinger smut #fatui harbingers #pantalone #regrator #the regrator #regrator smut #genshin impact #genshin x reader smut #pantalone x reader #pantalone reader insert #genshin reader insert #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin reader insert smut #regrator reader insert

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gardenofdreams · 2 years

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Yandere Pantalone/Regrator Headcanons

Tags: Pantalone/Regrator x Reader, Yandere, Dark Themes

Words: 547

A/N: I wrote this as soon as the trailer dropped. Might not be accurate to canon when that gets revealed but have fun!

He’s a busy man but will try his best to make time for you. Though being a Fatui Harbinger as well as being in charge of the country’s economics meant that your meetings were few and between. However, that never stopped him from sending you letter after letter, gift after gift. You’d receive sweet concise words alongside the most expensive gifts money could buy. If he could, the Regrator always found a way to express his love to you.

He’s extremely protective of you, keeping you like a bird in a crystal cage within his elegant snowy mansion. Every need of yours is met and more.

You never knew that you needed your own private hot springs let alone attendants and personal chef.

Due to all of this love bombing you would have never picked up on his much darker side that he keeps hidden away. Not when your lovely boyfriend/husband would treat you like a princess. Who wouldn’t be grateful for all the gifts and attention that you received. He even managed to win the hearts of your friends and family and scare away your enemies.

Whenever there is a big social event whether for making deals with his business partners or just a social gathering for the Snezhnaya he loves to take you out to show you off. There was never a ball where you wore the same dress, he would never allow that. Only the best for his snowdrop. There was a part of him that loved the way people couldn’t get enough of your appearance. Many were curious about the elusive woman that had captured the heart of this Fatui Harbinger which only added to the admiration whenever you would be seen in public.

You cannot convince me that this man wouldn’t become a yandere. Whether from being protective because the Harbinger has a lot of enemies or because he likes to own and keep things. Eventually perhaps he would simply view you as a beautiful item rather than a person. A delicate sculpture added to his collection except you were utterly priceless within his eyes.

If by chance you decide to fight against him, he’ll have no issues locking you away beneath the mansion until you learn to behave and be grateful for all the luxuries he’s bestowed upon you. Especially if you came from a poorer background. After all if he had someone like that when he was crawling around in the streets he certainly wouldn’t be so ungrateful.

The Regrator would pamper you and treat you like a princess. You were his beloved and he would not let you go through any hardship. Although that doesn’t stop him from punishing you should you misbehave. Depending on the severity of what you’ve done changes the punishments but he would never do anything that he couldn’t reasonably justify.

He’s an extremely hard to read yandere. His flawless smile always hides away his true thoughts and feelings. You couldn’t tell a lie from a truth with him and honestly who could blame you. This man was a ruthless businessman, manipulating his darling was simply child’s play. There’s absolutely no hope of escaping. How could you when he has his contacts across the entirety of Teyvat? But also why would you want to escape?

What happens when you tease him too much (18+)

Masterlist

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meguminne · 10 months

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a harbinger’s love , ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

their immense loyalty and love are second to none for the tsaritsa, including his. how unfortunate, ( for you. ) pantalone x reader presented by meguminne. [june 29, 2023]

loving a harbinger has never been easy, nor has anyone claimed it to be that. you know about their underhanded tactics and unshakable resolve to serve the tsaritsa, but there was something — or rather someone — that drew you closer towards the fatui.

it wasn’t his incredibly dashing good looks ( though you can argue it was a contributing factor ) nor his outstanding wealth that you think could rival the qixing’s, but it was his gentlest of smile and touch directed towards you, and only you.

what makes you special? you wonder.

he has an ulterior motive, he can’t possibly have one when you’re just you.

he sees some use out of you, that can’t be practical since you’re an average civilian.

you must remind him of someone else, you can’t prove that thought right or wrong. truth be told, despite the countless of hours and minutes you’ve spent with this man, you could never understand nor even grasp what’s brewing in his mind. you barely know him but you feel like he’s everything to you.

“darling?” gloved hands reach out to touch your hand, the rich snezhnayan fabric did little to muffle his frigid touch. as someone who's so warm towards you, you do find him rather cold; even in warmer climates. as though he was still distant despite how he acts. — “are you alright?” his voice is like honey, sweet and far too alluring to even consider the fact he was being deceitful with his worry.

“i’m fine, my love.” you smile in return, holding onto his hand, interlocking your fingers together with his.

“do not be like that, i can tell something’s bothering you.” he laughs in return; squeezing your hand softly and the sting of the cold metals around his fingers slightly burn your skin.

‘is there a reason why you love me?’ you let those words die on your lips as letting them slip might just ruin everything, destroy the illusion of a perfect life he has built for you. — you’re only ruining it with your constant worrying, why not just accept it as it is and not think about it?

no, no, you cannot just accept it! it has been two years and seven months since he first proclaimed his love for you after visiting your humble shop again and again, it has been a year and six months since you moved into his luxurious mansion and it has been only seven months since the world came to know you as the regrator’s wife. — and despite all the time that has passed, you still haven’t figured out why on earth he’s so in-love with you! there must be a reason, it cannot be chalked up to mere love at first sight.

you were swept away by his allure, his handsome face; his elegant disposition and the way he treats you and you were drunken with his love yet whenever you sober up, you can’t help but wonder. a torturous cycle of highs and lows! you can’t help but think you will be used as a sacrificial pawn in this game of chess the fatui is playing with the rest of the world!

“the fair lady’s death has me a bit shaken up,” you lie through your teeth; as someone who is married to one of the fatui’s higher-up’s, you’ve grown fluent in deceit as well. “that traveler proves to be a threat towards your goal.”

“our goal,” he says softly. “but you are correct, i must admit that that outlander’s meddling has thwarted our original plans but fear not, signora’s death was a necessary sacrifice towards teyvat’s better future.”

you nod, “of course. i have no doubt that the fatui will turn out to be victorious, not a single shadow of doubt. i am simply worried for your wellbeing, please be careful my love.” — despite what it seems, you truly do care about his wellbeing, for even though you doubt his intentions with loving you is pure, you can admit that you have fallen for the harbinger.

the regrator chuckles, amused at your concern, as he leans in to press a soft chaste kiss by the corner of your lips, “you worry enough for the both of us, fear not. i’ll be alright, i have a wife to return to, after all.”

it does little to ease your worries, his smile was stasis on his face and you can’t tell what he was planning or even thinking but the reflection of your figure in his lenses makes you think that it involved you.

#genshin angst #genshin impact #the regrator #pantalone x reader #genshin x reader #genshin #genshin reader #pantalone #fatui x reader #fatui #the reader is plagued by constant doubts #and worries #but hey arent we all #genshin fluff #the regrator genshin #pantalone genshin #x reader #reader angst #meguminne

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innerunderrain · 2 years

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Munificence [Yan!Pantalone x Childhood!Fem.Reader]

Munificence: the quality or action of being lavishly generous; great generosity.

Warnings/tags: Yandere themes, disturbing thoughts, delusions, implied physical and emotional abuse, abuse of power, violence, slight hint of depression, greediness, dehumanization, feminine reader, my mind is gearing.

Word count: 1.3k

The Regrator had always remembered you as a person who was willing to assist others, despite your misfortune ever since you were a child.

You were both born into and raised in poverty. Nonetheless, your differences were rather noticeable. He was willing to break the law, mislead the public, and sometimes even endanger others to ensure his survival. You were the polar opposite, always giving in to everyone else' demands, always offering your share of food with him, even if it meant you were left to starve due to his greediness of taking what's more than needed.

The Regrator had always found you admirable, but utterly stupid with your generous demeanour. He admittedly took advantage of you on several occasions when he was younger, encouraging you to act as his stand-in whenever he committed a felony and coercing you into giving him the majority of your meals and blanket. You never complained, only grinned as you broke off a piece of bread and loaned it to him.

Generous to a fault, you are munificence when it comes to giving made you an easy target for conmen and scammers.

As you and Pantalone grew older, you assisted one another although it was more like he demanded you support him.

At the age of eighteen, he cultivated a strong desire to accumulate wealth, which kept growing as he began to establish connections and participate in various employment opportunities to gain a better understanding of the world. His demeanour and tone of voice became more clear and polite, in contrast to the demeaning way he used to address you, which you were rather glad for since he treated you more like an individual now then before.

Pantalone rushed into your shared room shortly after the opportunity from Snezhnaya presented itself, sporting a honest smile that you hadn't seen in a number of years. He waved a letter in your face, and you couldn't help but smile tenderly at how much he reminded you of an excited child who just opened his first present from his parents.

"I received an employment offer from Snezhnaya; they stated they're desperately searching for an individual to fill a position at the financial institution they're establishing."

He explained, rather excitedly as he handed you the contents of the letter, watching as your eyes carefully scan the writing. The two of you celebrated the news, packing all your belongings to board the ship the next day, saying goodbye to your beloved city of Liyue.

You didn't understand it until it was way too late, but this was the last time you'll ever feel genuine happiness.

Contrary to what you would have assumed, life in Snezhnaya wasn't as simple.

You had postulated that after receiving the title of 'Fatui Harbinger,' Pantalone would have returned you to Liyue since he knew it had always been your aspiration to open your own bakery for the people who were in an unfortunate situation, since you knew what it was like to go days without food.

Yet you find yourself sitting at the diner table, peering out into the garden that was populated with neatly cut shrubs and beautiful flowers that gave life to the resident. The dining hall is illuminated by sunlight filtering through the large windows. Everything within his domicile was magnificent, arched and hand-made with the finest details and made using the most luxurious materials.

"Are you not satisfied with your meal?"

He inquired, his voice deep and seamless, splitting you out of your trance. You turn to face him, the dark-haired man strolling towards you, a large robe draped over his broad shoulders, making him appear larger, more intimidating.

"...I am. I was simply thinking."

You responded, watching Pantalone seated himself in front of you, a cup of tea in his hand, humming in delight.

"Oh? Would you care to inform me what you're so enraptured in?"

"I was merely thinking of the past."

You replied cautiously, inspecting the man's handsome face for any sign of unpleasantness or anger, remembering how much he loathed discussing of the past.

"The past? Your pretty little head seems to enjoy partaking in pointless developments. Why think about the past?"

Pantalone's smile never dimmed, regardless of the fact that you knew he was most likely hiding his sentiments behind that businessman smile.

"It's filled with nothing but unpleasantries."

Unpleasantries? While the past was filled with nothing but agonising poverty, with raindrops dripping onto your cheeks while you slept at night, you prefer to be allowed to live freely than an animal constrained by his own fortunes.

"Even so, I seem to like the past more than the current time."

You respond with another sip of tea, the fruitiness of the warm liquid filling your senses. Pantalone said nothing for a while, but you could almost feel his anger swelling with each tick of the clock.

"You know, my dear."

Finally, he remarked, pausing briefly before continuing. You dropped your cup of tea as his gloved fingers lunged out to seize your face, squeezing your cheeks between his fingertips. Warm liquid streams onto your silk dress, fragile ceramic cups shattering onto the marbled floor, generating a loud shriek.

"Instead of dwelling on the past, you should embrace the moment and learn to appreciate its riches."

With your chest pressed against the table and Pantalone's face looming over yours, you groaned in pain as you felt the way his diamond rings pinched into the delicate area of your flesh, pulling you close to him.

"You're such a generous little girl, and yet you can't seem to spare any benevolence for someone who's willing to soak you with wealth and power."

He cooed as you struggled to get his hand off your face, his smile broadening into a vicious grin.

"Consider it as some form of compensation for previously sharing your food with me. But perhaps now is my chance to act as the charitable one."

While his greed for your food and basic necessities gradually lessened, his greed grew and diversified in a new way. This time, he was only focused on you. He desired your attention, your body, and even your mind. The Regrator intended to be the only person in the world to experience your suffering, to witness your cries of agony, and to showcase your joyous moments.

Relief washed over you as you noticed the man's grip loosen around your face, his thumb now circling the skin under your eyes.

"Yes, I'll put everything you said today behind me because I'm a forgiving person," he murmured, pausing before resting his forehead against yours and gazing into your eyes, as if he was trying to drown you with the darkness of his pupils.

"I promise to be less gracious the next time, so do understand that you will be held accountable for your promises."

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact #yandere #pantalone #yandere genshin imagines #genshin imagines #genshin pantalone #regrator #fatui harbingers #fatui x reader #the regrator #yandere x reader

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elysiasduchy · 2 years

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AWAY FROM HOME PANTALONE X FEMALE WIFE! READER

CONTENT WARNING: PILLOW HUMPING, MENTIONS OF SUSPECTED CHEATING, SLIGHT PRAISE, SLIGHT DEGRADING , DACRYPHILLIA, DOGGY STYLE, OVERSTIMULATION/DUMIFICATION

PANTALONE didn’t usually believe the rumors going around the mages and maidens that strode down the halls, mouths full of gossip waiting to be thrown at any given opportunity. Especially ones regarding his wife knowing how many false rumors spewed from their mouths hoping to catch the mans attention, fatui harbinger or not.

It was obvious that Pantalone was a busy man drowning in paperwork daily, barley ever going to his hoke where his adorable wife resided- due to his absence a new rumor was made, it echoed through the halls even if he tried not to listen ti them. It was uncharacteristic for him to listen to a horrendous rumor made by some Ill-breed fatuus he would surely kill for bad mouthing his wife.

‘Did you hear? The regrators wife might be cheating in him!’, ‘I wouldnt doubt it, he barely ever spends time with her, who wouldnt fool around with another?’ The sounds if hushed whispers taunted him, he knew how little he soent time with you recently; and to be hinest, he wouldnt completely baldness you if you did cheat due to the lack if attention from his part.

So to debunk the rumors swirling the minds if the fatui members, he decided to go back home earlier THSN usual. To see if he would catch you cheating or if he woukd be greeted by your gentle kiss on his cheek before cuddling with him.

He unlocked the door expecting to be greeted by a hug or a ‘coming!’ He walked closer to your shared bedroom before he came to a sudden half- he heard muffled moans and whines coming from the room, your mewls echoed through his head? Where the mages righf? Were you bored waiting fir him so you decided to mess around with others?

Quickly opening the door he was surprised when he was met with the sight if you vigorously humping his pillow, tears adoring your face completing your pleasure stricken face. You back was turned to him, engrossed in pleasuring yourself you didn’t seem to notice Pantalone standing in the doorway with a teasing and half relieved smirk plastered on his face.

He walked over to you as you didn’t yet realize that he had entered and watched you jump a pillow like a common whore. His shoes tapping against the hard wooded floors brought you to your senses and much to Pantalones surprise- you opened your legs, basically inviting him to ravage you dumb.

And that’s what he did, flipping you- your stomach hitting the soft and expensive sheets that cost an entire fortune. He tutted, “I didn’t know my dear wife was such a whore, getting off to a mere pillow. Did you really think that would suffice?” You shook your head, the way his thumb circled your clit was occupying your entire mind. Unable to form coherent words, you could only mewl to any degrading sentences he threw at you.

The fullness that you felt was taken away from you in but a second, gloves filled with your glistening slick. You let out a whine, thrustingback trying to find the hand that stimulated you in ways you weren’t able. Pantalone suddenly grabbed your hips, with a grip that would be bruising if he held you even a bit harder.

He whispered sweet nothings in your ear as he teased you with his tip, “my wife is si pretty, hm? Especially when your begging me to fuck you.” Pushing your head impossibly further into in satin pillow case, just as you were about to protest you felt him sheath his cock into your warm cunt you almost instantly righted around him.

Letting out a groan he let you get used to his size before fucking you stupid, he could hear faint pleads and sobs rip from your throat as he held you in place. He snapped his hips into your drenched heat a loud cry could be heard throughout the entire room.

If you were going to try and pleasure yourself by grinding against a pillow because of his absence then he would surely fill you full of his seed, fucking you until you could only let out dumb sounds- fucking you dumb until you could only think of him.

You had your fifth orgasm ripped from your trembling body, you swore that whenever you closed you could only see him- and soon enough he made you feel a pleasure able high only his cock could make you feel.

Suddenly he flipped you around once more, admiring the mess he made of you. Tear stained cheeks and mascara smudged around your eyes and cheeks. cute sobs and a variety of moans were the only things that managed to escape your lips.

You could feel him chase high once again, stuffing you full of his cum. You would surely not feel so empty for a while.

It’s safe to say this is my least favorite smut fic ever

#smut #female reader #x reader #pantalone smut #the regrator #the regrator smut #fatui smut #fatui #genshin #genshin smut #genshin impact #harbinger x reader

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minzart · 9 months

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Before Sandrone actually appears in game. I'll do this stupid joke bc it will probably age extremely poorly but God it's ridiculously funny if these two did made a pet project ... of that...

#minz doodles #genshin #genshin impact #gi #fatui harbingers #the doctor #the regrator #the marionette #il dottore #pantalone #sandrone #genshin dottore #genshin pantalone #genshin sandrone #please let this post stay up it's straght up just a joke #minz comics #gi fancomic

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redstripstrawberry · 2 years

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Mother of Pearl | Yandere Pantalone x Reader

Warning: Yandere themes. Drugging, demeaning language, and mentions of long-term stalking. Thank you.

Summary: Being the only child of successful business owners in Liyue meant a life of luxury. As such, you’ve developed quite a sharp eye for the top-class of materials, so much so that you pride yourself on it. It wasn’t until a meeting with the most arrogant man you’ve ever met that you felt you had to prove your skill.

An evening in Liyue Harbor is an evening like no other. The air is crisp and cold since the breeze flows from the ocean and swims through the streets of Liyue. The gleams of the lanterns scattered about are like stars that you can just reach out and touch. Truly a sight like no other.

But more spectacular than the scenery of Liyue Harbor at night is the commotion that goes on after when the golden glow of the sun turns into the quiet gleam of the moon. As expected of the city’s lesser-known title: “Teyvat’s Capital of Commerce,” the residents are bustling even when the fireflies blink in the darkness. You are usually more interested in the night market life than anything Liyue Harbor’s scenery had to offer.

Hailing from Liyue Harbor meant that you’re very involved in the market, even more so than the average person since your parents are running a very successful clothing business. The night market in Liyue Harbor is a special case for you, since you’re a buyer— someone who keeps track and purchases essential materials for a business.

Though tonight’s wander has a more important purpose than the usual browsing. You’re on the lookout for some Sango Pearls. Only the best quaility should be picked for your mother’s birthday present. As the only child of the most famous designers in Liyue Harbor, who, other than you, would know instantly about the quality of items from a mere look? You can’t think of any other name.

So comes the evening as you set out to begin your personal quest. From your parents’ shop descending down the stairs on top of Xinyue Kiosk, you hear the loud and crowded noise of the bustling market. Across from the stairs is Mingxing Jewelry, a familiar shop where you usually do business.

You’ve asked Xingxi to bring out the pearls for you to take a look. She lets you go at it alone since you’re always taking your time. Though having a sharp eye makes things easier, there’s multiple discussions to be had with yourself when picking exquisite items.

The sea’s gems came in a velvet box—pure white—to showcase the multitudes of colors from the pearls. Amongst the red, pink, and purple pearls displayed, a lustrous golden pearl with a lavender sheen stood out to you the most. Under the dark sky, the light that shines from the shop’s lanterns reflects against the pearl like a mirror. Unlike the others, the gem is definitely clear and smooth all around. You hold the pearl high, seeing the light reveals its purple glow at the edges which mixes into the golden base color. Such a breathtaking pearl!

“That one isn’t a good pick.” A voice says from behind you. You turn your head and lock eyes with a dark-haired gentleman wearing a smile. The lenses of his glasses that frame his face shine with the lanterns, making him seem pompous.

You feel a pinch the moment he abruptly brought up his opinion. “And why do you think so?” you reply, surprised.

“The pearl’s reflection is purple. Sango Pearls of the best quality has a pink or reddish sheen to it, indicating the connection Orobashi, Watatsumi’s god. It’s a well-known fact with the people of Watatsumi Island,” the man answers you, informing you with an arrogant attitude.

“Please,” you scoff off his answer, “the ‘fact’ you’re talking about is just folk’s tale. It has no meaning to the quality of the pearl itself. The pearl’s color is connected to the color inside of the shell, fun ‘fact.’ Clearly, Watatsumi Island's purple calms are the ones that make the Sango Pearl its gloss: purple.”

“Pardon me, but clearly you’ve never seen a class AAA Sango Pearl to compare it to.”

The man chuckles, clearly having fun. You can’t believe what is happening right now. It’s one thing to disagree with another about precious items but to blatantly insult you in your face? You can’t help but spit the tone right back.

“... You’re not someone usually well-liked, aren’t you? Considering how forceful you were,” you ask him with an attitude, eyes narrowing in annoyance.

“My help is usually sought out from numerous people. My opinion has great value, honestly,” the man replies with the same smile. Something about his smile makes you irritated.

“Ah, you don’t really look like it,” you say, switching your tone to a relaxed statement. You bring your eyes to focus on the pearl once again, but you can feel his smile flicker. Archons, does he irk you. “Well, thanks for your —unwelcome— input, but I find this pearl to match what I’m looking for.”

“ I’d agree with you, that pearl does match your tastes much better anyway.”

Clearly, there wasn’t anything wrong with what he said, but everything that comes out of his mouth seems so… underhanded. That tone especially, it feels wrong.

“But!” the man fumbles around in his jacket with his hands, “to apologize for my —unwelcome— input, here’s a gift for you.”

The man called over Xingxi and threw a heavy pouch of Mora that hit the counter with a hard ‘clunk.’

“Though if you really want to seek out my opinion, come by the Northland Bank and ask for ‘Pantalone.’ I’ll show you some quality pearls. That is, if you really think you’re right.”

The gall of the man! You would’ve rejected the offer immediately out of spite if it wasn’t for that second sentence. But your pride as a child of the top designers in Liyue Harbor is in control. Your eyes are honed precisely for helping out the family business. This isn’t about a damn pearl, it was about your competence as a buyer of supplies!

“I’d doubt that you can procure any of these ‘quality’ pearls you speak of, but I’ll come. Only to see how your preferences match up to mine.”

“I’ll look forward to it, [ ].”

You can’t with that damn smile.

• ° • ° • ° •

“Which is why the nacre of the pearl should also count as a separate category into determining its grade,” Pantalone concludes.

“Yes, you’ve went on and on how judging the iridescence of the pearl isn’t the same as judging its color..” you roll your eyes, “but that doesn’t explain anything about why you would grade desert fox fur as the least desirable fur. You’re absolutely wrong, by the way.”

“Of course you wouldn’t understand it based on what you know, [ ]. But just like how people mistake judging a pearl’s nacre and color together, it’s the same with judging color and the pattern of a fur.”

It’s funny how a simple chat about a pearl gradings turned into a deep and interesting conversation about fox furs. The high-class people around your age aren’t very fond of discussing the bits and pieces of precious things, just only that they have them. It’s a unexpectedly fulfilling discussion, even though Pantalone is undeniably an ass about it.

“We should stop here since it’s getting late,” you start off, leaning against the railing. The two of you are on the bridge right out front of the bank, after you two got into a heated discussion inside that needed to be had outside. The guard hurried off after Pantalone gave him a look you didn’t get to see.

“... I see.” Pantalone has that unreadable smile on his face. “However, why don’t you head inside for some tea to warm up? To prepare you on the way back home.”

“I think we’ll end up getting to a duel about tea leaves, and if so, I’ll leave at sunrise.” you chuckle. “Thanks, but no thanks, sir Pantalone.”

“Please, heated discussions will not commence whatsoever. Think of it as an offering for making a new bond… with me.”

You’re surprised. A new friendship wasn’t something you thought you were going to make today, much less an asshole for a friend, but here you are. You beam at him.

“Well then, sure.”

• ° • ° • ° •

The room is stuffy. You come to, opening your eyes as try to grasp your surroundings. What happened? Didn’t you just had tea with Pantalone a moment ago?

“You’re awake? Good, because I was starting to get bored talking to your unconscious self.”

Pantalone reveals himself, walking into the light which hangs above you. The lenses of his glasses shine even brighter, illuminating his eyes. Pantalone is wearing his familiar close-eye smile. But now he’s horrifying that way.

“Honestly, I didn’t expect our chemistry to be so well-matched considering that I only watched you from afar, but it went so well. Our conversations, that is. I’m so glad we started off so.. thrilling.” Pantalone starts, as he circles around you. You, whose hands are tied behind your back and your feet secured at the chair’s front legs, watch him in terror or in rage; there’s so much emotion within that you don’t have enough time to settle on which. “It’s funny, you know, how similar you are to me when I was a bit younger. Arrogant, yet so naive. It’s no wonder I felt an instant connection with you.”

Pantalone circles back to the front, facing you. He leans in closer to you, grabbing the sides of your seat, shifting his weight to his hands. Pantalone's thumbs are barely touching your thigh. Your voice is muffled from the cloth wedged between your jaws. All you could do is squirm intensely from refusal. Panic settles in.

“For someone who acts so high-class and knowledgeable, you can’t even comprehend real wealth. Not like the pocket change your parents make yearly, not what I can show you.” Pantalone chuckles, his teeth showing through his smile. “Adorable and naive. There’s just something about you, [ ]. You show how much of an idiot you are with your pride and knowledge, but yet stir me all the same.”

Pantalone’s face isn’t paired with the familiar yet irritating closed-eye smile. No, the open grin with his upturned eyes is instead the most frightening expression you’ve ever seen a human make. You can see the madness in him and it’s terrifying.

“My precious pearl,” Pantalone leans in even closer, his voice whispering into your ear, “You’re too fascinating to let go.”

#writing-strip #im not dead i swear #His characterization is not the best #hard man to write about #totally hard for him tho wink wink #critque is welcome #might rewrite idk #yandere pantalone #pantalone #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #the regrator #yandere pantalone x reader #pantalone x reader

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matildemachadoart · 10 months

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I like Mr Rich pants

#pantalone #lo wiwi #regrator #art #genshin #fatui #genshin impact #fanart #the regrator #he is so beautiful #eats him

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lemissem · 1 year

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Pantalone doodles!

#pantalone #the regrator #genshin impact fatui #fatui fanart #genshin fatui #genshin impact #fatui #harbingers fanart #genshin harbingers #fatui harbingers

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tokimihyachi · 9 months

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Achilles Heel [Pantalone X GN Reader] Chapter 3

❝I cannot kill you, for your end will become my eternal damnation.❞

Pairing/s: GN! Reader X Pantalone, Various Harbingers X Reader SYNOPSIS: Pantalone does not do well with love. He never thought, wanted, much less had experience in that field. He viewed it as a weakness, a bad omen hanging above his head. But he was prepared to make an exception for you. He'd let you become his only Achilles Heel if it meant keeping you. -> ACHILLES HEEL CHAPTER NAVIGATION

CHAPTER THREE: between the lines (3/21)

⸻ "DID YOU BRING ME HERE TO MAKE ME ENVIOUS?"

Pantalone was a considerate host, much to your surprise.You were given too much of a spacious and elaborate room for a guest, bathed in a warm bath, clothed with silken night wear paired with an equally comfortable winter coat. Nothing of the attention given to you was mediocre— if it hadn't been for the maidservants who kept sneering at your presence.

In fact, you believe they loathed you.

If only they had simply scowled at the sight of you then maybe you'd believe they found you repulsive to look at. No. They articulated their dislike for you through actions such as brushing your hair too harshly and accidentally tripping the tray that carried your coffee, burning your skin with the hot liquid.

You decide to hide the burn scar and avoid the plight it may stir.

At half past seven, the devil invited you to his office. For what reason? To annoy you as if you don't already hold a grudge against him for needlessly choking you out of spite.

Thank Celestia for your patience.

"Of what are you envious, [Name]?" the Harbinger asked, his hands moving in a slow manner as he ate another spoonful of his scrumptious breakfast while you sat there arms-crossed with a plate of nothing.

"You know what I'm talking about." you glowered, "Did you bring me here because we have something to talk about or to make me hungry?"

Pantalone's lips curled into a smile, "Perhaps both."

The man sips from his coffee, one which Frederick came to personally blend in his small cabin office earlier and the aroma capered the room in a medley with the maple syrup and french toast.

"How old are you?" you asked, an obvious attempt to obscure thoughts of the food from re-entering the surface of your mind.

"I don't particularly see the importance of your question."

You harrumph, "A little privy on the age, hm? Well then, Lord Regrator, what do you do for a living?"

"We should skip the formalities [Name]. After all, we've already shared quite an intimate moment with each other yesterday." he sliced a piece of mouthwatering pancakes and brought it to his delectable lips before continuing, "To answer your question, you could say that I am a banker of sorts."

"A banker? Like, with money? Your niche is numbers?"

"I was not aware there were other kinds of bankers."

"Uhm, those who gamble? Like, they give cards and anoint the game."

"The conductor of a gambling table is called a croupier, not a banker."

You ignored his input, persisting with your original question, "So, are you good at it? The numbers?"

Pantalone shakes his head. You were like a child staring at him with so much veneration despite knowing he was a Harbinger. As such, he is unable to stop the tugging of his lips.

How detestable it is to feel satisfaction from the likes of you.

"I am Northland Bank's head director. That much should suffice your curiosity." Pantalone dabbed his lip with a handkerchief, swerving his eye from the plate to your face. You suppress the urge to shiver.

"How admirable," you complimented, reaching for his coffee but he swats your hand before the cup touched your lithe fingertips. You frowned, "Is it out of inclination that you chose banking as a profession?"

The smile on his face disappears, and you begin to panic that you've let an offensive remark slip your brazen mouth.

"Do you think of me so little that the probability of monetary principles being my natural talent was out of the prospect?" Pantalone spat, annoyed.

You attempt to reach the coffee again. He moves it away from you. "Why is it that you always assume I'm disparaging your character?"

He eyed your countenance, examining it for any indication of falsity but find nothing. "So I take it that you're not?"

"No, of course not. I asked you that because sometimes, innate talent isn't enough of a motivation. You could be born with the most potent brain for something but want another thing that's entirely different from what you're gifted with."

Clarity is often difficult to grasp when a person's mind is in a constant battle with the heart's desire. You've seen how it conflicted people until it ultimately ravaged their minds leaving nothing but a shell of what used to be a bright flame.

Pantalone cleared his throat, "[Name], why is it that you ask so many questions?"

"Well, you can say that it's my nature. I come across something or someone I don't understand and I become curious of them." You explained, shifting in your seat.

"Curious?" He raised a brow.

"Yes," you smiled, leaning a little to one side just enough for the light of the morning sun to kiss your figure in a soft glow.

"I mean, what kind of person strangles you on the first meet after you've done them the favor of getting your own hands bloodied? Clearly, I should be enraged but that doesn't prevent me from thinking you're uncanny... but not in a bad way, I guess."

An unmistakable flicker of delight rippled through Pantalone when his lips turn into a coy smile; the drumming of his fingers on the table coming to a halt.

"Do correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you confessing, dear [Name], that you find me remarkable enough to be the subject of your interest?" his tone remained the same as before but there was a hint of mirth; teasing, even, if one listened close enough.

"Don't put words into my mouth." you avoided his gaze feeling the rush of blood to your cheeks, the realization of your words only dawning now like a broken cash register.

The Harbinger watched as you fumbled with the cuffs of your sleeved coat, gratification seeping through his veins at the sight of your unease.

He decides then that he would stop at that for today. "I have a business to take care of today." he pushed himself up and trudged near the wooden coat rack, the metal embellishments of his fur coat clanking together in resonant as he wore it around himself.

You tilt your head, "You trust me enough to leave me here, alone, in your office? I might find secrets here you would want to remain hidden, who knows."

A chuckle erupts unexpectedly from his lips, "Trust is quite the big word, no? Try as you may to flee this place, I can simply have my men search for you and bring you back." the undertone in his statement did not go amiss by your clever ear.

"I'll be honest, I don't know why I'm still held captive. But for the free food and settlement, I really have no plans of leaving." you grinned.

Pantalone makes no other comment as he draws near you and you realize through his thick glasses that whatever it was he was thinking is the penultimate reason he called you here.

He stalls beside you in brevity, an inquisitive gaze studying your neck. "I believe you'll find what's in this box suitable. If you do not like it, simply throw it away." he hands you a package exorbitantly bundled in shrouded wrapping, offering no other explanation of the box's content.

Confused, you take it from his hold, fingers touching his in the briefest of seconds, and yet your pulse spikes all the same. Whether or not Pantalone noticed he did not say, but the satisfied smile on his face as he left convinced you he did.

When you open the neatly tied box after the man's exit, you find a new scarf within it that was beyond 'suitable.'

You huff an air of disbelief upon realizing that the cravat he gave you was the exact color of his own.

CHAPTER THREE, END.

<- chapter two

chapter four ->

tip this broke law student here! thank you, travellers! i hope you enjoy the rest of the fic! <33

#genshin #genshin impact #genshinimpact #impact #pantalone #pantalone x reader #harbingers #harbinger #fatui harbingers x reader #regrator x reader #the regrator #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #eventual smut #enemies to lovers #slow burn #fatui harbingers

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