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affableramen · 1 month ago

Text

Pantalone x inexperienced AFAB reader

very angsty smut with plot. 6K word count

explicit content, minors dni

Note: finally releasing my big dicked king in all his beauty 👍🏻

The man that always wore masks of an extremely affable demeanour had been hiding by any means an ugly heart. Behind the decorous appearance and impeccable manners there was an old bachelor who knew nothing but loneliness before becoming the richest man in the country and after. It was like he was destined to be always alone, he thought. But that perilous assumption was not enough to justify the poorness of his character and the ill manner of his actions while being in close intimacy with someone. Though extremely charming in public, he was incredibly unlikeable to those he spoke privately to. Smart, well-read and educated that was all about him but at the same time it could not save his soul that could only have capacity for three feelings: abhor, greed and lust.

You did not understand him. You did not understand how someone could go about their day throwing false smiles here and there, playing with people as if they were nothing but puppets on strings. He was not a beast, but he was a skillfull manipulator, a creature to you more disgusting than anyone else. You did not agree with any of his false views of justice and you simply knew that the two of you lived in very different worlds. You did not deny that a person was a product of their traumas and experiences, yet somehow the man standing in front of you right now seemed to absorb every filthy trait, every possible flaw one could know.

He was indeed a man of many flaws, but at the same time he was so captivating for you. So interesting to watch, to study. People were always drawn by something they failed to understand…

“I love you.” You shivered and inhaled sharply upon hearing his false (to you) words.

The rain’s heavy drops fell chaotically making a mess of the ground under your feet. It was a big rain. As big as the emotions that spoke from the bottom of your heart. This man under any circumstances could not fit with your convictions.

“You don’t know love.” The answer slipped from your lips made Pantalone’s chest squeeze into something shallow and cracky. But he had been the man known for getting what he wanted whenever he wanted, ignoring any obstacles no matter how dreadful they could be. That man did not have a single hint of fear in his heart. He was reckless, foolish sometimes even, so dearly holding onto his plan, believing that he was saving everyone. But in the whole bitter truth, he was only saving himself.

“Then teach me.”

He was standing there, when the falling rain had washed that smug smirk long ago. The masks were taken off, the true faces were in the light. The both of you standing there were wet to the bone, your fuzzy coat did absolutely nothing to protect your skin from the coolness of the autumn.

It was a long few minutes before Pantalone finally switched his brain on and pulled the umbrella out. He opened it and locked it above your heads. You wished you did not allow yourself doing that, but instinctively you pushed your body closer to the shade of the umbrella, accepting Pantalone’s generousity.

You hated this man. Did you not? Or did the seriousness of expression he gave you every time you were in sight cause your knees to feel weak? The long, blank face he would give every time the two of you appeared in the same room by chance? How his stupid, false (to you) smile hurriedly morphed into the most tense expression you’d ever seen? This man was so smiley to everyone else… but to you. Or, how his hand squeezed yours for a tiny shallow moment when he pulled you out from his car, at the evening he surprisingly gave you a lift to home?

Damn those gloved hands! They did not protect you from the heat of his fingers. You imagined the hand under those leather gloves icy cold, but you knew the touch would be so burning at the same time.

“No, I do not hate him. I can’t hate him. Not when he makes me stop in my tracks, not when the sensation I thought dead forever would rise somewhere below my tummy at the mere thought of his eyes on me.”

You finally met his. Yet another piece of decorum was but an obstacle on your way of discerning him. Those damned eyeglasses. He hid his eyes behind them way too well.

“I know what you are about to say. You want nothing more than to once again point out how cruel, unappealing, cowardly and dishonest I am in your eyes. I am perfectly aware of what good people think of me (by any means, you’re one of the good people). But before you start, I want to confess the true feelings I have been burying deep within me for so many months. Seeing you and not being able to express my true feelings or have your company around was but a torture for me. I want to feel your eyes on mine at least once without that judgement and prejudice. Without that desperate hate of yours, the eating, raging fire that wants to burn me so badly. And I would allow you to do it, I am more than convinced of the imperfections of my character. The evil that took lives of many, the greed that made so many suffer and die in aloneness… I am well, believe me for once, aware, that my presence is destructive and dangerous, and gives ground to foulness. And if the charming façade of a successful businessman had been discerned by you so easily, and you have seen the flaws of my heart so clearly, then I admit you have completely beaten me and truthfully taken my heart as a trophy. Because you are, by any means, the love of my life."

You felt your eyes getting wet. This was so foolish and laughable, but it was the first moment between you when you finally felt a tad bit of sincerity from his heart. The little sparkles came out of his deep dark, almost hollow eyes of a rough businessman as he spoke his confession. This man had humiliated himself quite literally in front of you just a moment ago.

“Did I say something wrong?” Pantalone inquired, the light in his eyes shook with worry.

“Not even close.”

“You look like you are not getting enough sleep. Your eyes are bloodshot, you’re so pale.”

“Is that what you’re concerned about right now?” You said through a laugh that was more a cry of despair. “Do you care about how I feel?”

Pantalone’s face did not crack for a second. He spoke seriously, with firmness of his velvety baritone.

“I do not deny I did not consider your feelings once during the earlier period… I mistreated you badly. But I will truthfully admit that the first time I met you, I looked at you with unknown softness spreading through my mind. The softness I never knew even existed in me. I deemed feelings like attachment and sympathy shallow, my whole life.”

“All this time I thought your serious gazes at me meant nothing but disgust. After all, I have no name to myself and no wealth behind my back…”

“Dear Y/N…” Pantalone gasped air as if it was not enough for him to breathe. He remembered his horrendous past at that moment. No, not remembering, it would be an understatement. The whole life seemed to rush through his mind, the suffering of a destitute family, the destiny destroyed for one poor child because his family could barely afford sugar. The constant hunger that turned into an echo of eating disorder later. The so usual cold and rain. The stray cats that would surround him. He was never a lucky boy, he deemed his life very cruel and pathetic. Not a single praise, not a single one more fake smile on his face, that impudent selfishness he tried to wrap around his face like a mask, was a good tool to sustain his reputation. But when he was alone with himself, how he looked in the mirror - he always saw nothing but that poor beggar, cursed by the universe, abandoned by the archons and left forever alone to suffer his pain that did not even tiny bit subside. Eating those lavish homely cooked meals by his damn, personal chef! Being served every time when he looked into the plate, his poor traumatised mind forced him into seeing nothing but scraps! He was a beggar once, and he was a beggar forever - that’s how he thought of himself.

“I do not care if you are not rich. As I myself had been roughly put in the position of a destitute, pathetic beggar once. This all you see”, he pointed at himself, “is but a façade.”

The words leaving his mouth seemed very heavily spoken. It caused him immense pain to dwell on that part of his life.

“But if the woman I love gave me at least a hint of affection, I would consider myself the richest man alive not by public view but my own, deep inside my wicked heart.”

“Affection?” You broke into a thousand pieces. Your voice shook, you were almost sure you left a shocked noise but you could not be able to hear it, due to the uneasiness of your mind.

“Affection, yes, the definition of which I so successfully fail to understand. But if you would teach me to love you, showme how I can be the man worthy of your attention”, his velvety voice darkened, no, deepened. “Just one chance.”

You could not believe the words you were about to say, the thoughts that were rushing through your head, but intuitively you knew that this moment was perfectly fitting for the filthy words you longed to let off your mind.

“And if I want that… in the bedroom?”

The words slipped off your tongue so quickly, you could not bear it and felt how your body reacted with pure embarrassment, sending shock waves through the whole of you, deep red slowly spreading across your face.

"In the… bedroom?" he asked, reaching out his free hand to her gently. He chuckled at last. “I would… I…”

The elegance and richness of his façade had dropped so soon after having heard your blunt but arousing words. There was unspoken diffidence in his stature, you swore you never saw it before. The shape of the ruthless businessman morphed into a rather shy man who did not know what to respond, not insulting or embarrassing you with his own personal opinion.

“I would not dream of it”, he finally said. “I only imagined a kiss, or two. But to hear you offer—” he cut his sentence. The words seemed too improper to say them outloud.

The rain was still falling, the two of you were still standing there. Pantalone stopped talking the moment he realised that you might get sick. He wasn't even thinking about his own well being in that moment. The sole purpose of his life became…. you.

(The smut part starts here)

Pantalone and you had successfully gotten to his mansion to hide from the cruelty of the weather. The cruelty of the weather that you called rather romantic. Once you entered his house you were smitten by the lavishness and luxury, but unlike how you imagined it in your head before (that it would be rather vulgar), it appeared more old, more antiqued to you rather than vulgar. It felt like he bought this house from another rich gentleman and decorated it in his own way, however it still remained with the dark, aging aura within.

You did not have too much time to enjoy his mansion, but not because he rushed you or because you did not want that - you did, badly. But the solely reason of your hurry was the desire you wanted to fulfill. Something feral, physical, you denied having in yourself for a long time. The two of you dried up, removing the soaked clothes and putting on something else. Pantalone’s servants were quick to fetch you a clothing. The dress was completely new, gray and of luxurious looks. Pantalone would never even think of forcing you to wear one of his previous lovers’ gowns, that obviously had remained in the old wardrobes of the mansion… He gave a thought to destroying all of them as soon as you entered his house. There will be nothing more showing attachment to his previous encounters. You will not suffer the consequences of his careless actions and will never be treated as a regular rich man treats his whores.

The clothing arrived and you finally dressed yourself, Pantalone waiting in another room patiently. At last, he asked his servants and butler to leave you to all alone. They could swear they never saw their master with such peace of mind.

“It would be my greatest pleasure to share a bed with you, if the words you spoke before were not satire or a joke to mock me”, he covered the top of your hand with his own. His frail hands… you looked down and saw that they were bare. Slightly calloused, aged, but with impeccable manicured nails and pleasant appearance on the whole. Without his rings they were almost unrecognisable. Perhaps the only clue to see his person in them was the familiar elegance of the movements of his fingers, which were slightly trembling right now.

“There was no satire”, you forced yourself to not waver. “I suspected the… the signs of your appreciation for me, but I would rather ignore them for the sake of my peace of heart. I chose to believe that you-” you covered your face for a moment as if realising the gravest mistake. “That you had hated me to the bone. The looks you had been giving me both resembled hate and softness of heart. I could not decide which one was more vividly depicted.”

“In that aggression, in that hostility, if you may, I hid the softest feelings to you. However with you being completely honest and so blunt (which, belive me, does not ruin your attractiveness by any means) I feel myself preoccupied with rather primal desires. I want you as a man wants a woman. I don't want you as a friend. I want you on a level that is way more personal. In a way that, if described accurately, will raise scandal and be considered sinful and dirty.”

And he said it like that, in the most down-to-earth way possible.

“There is always a little bit of scandalousness involved when one person desires the other.”

You tried to comfort him in a way that would resemble his wordings. Having been pleased with your answer, Pantalone chuckled softly. You realised that the clothes you just put on were going to be taken off you once again. But this time, not by the maids - by Pantalone himself.

“I usually have my valets undress me. But tonight, I trust myself to you.” He smiled playfully. You started undoing his coat gently, slowly, playing with the buttons in your fingers.

“How many women did you have?” You asked nonchalantly, trying to play the coolness of character, but the blush of your cheeks would betray you.

“That is the question the answer to which might disappoint you.”

“I want to know. Besides, you are alone with me right now, and for a reason”, finally getting to his shirt you apologised, “it may have been rather too forward of me, forgive me. I am just trying to learn more about you.”

“Gossips won't always provide you with a rightful answer, my dear. Though I am not a womaniser, nor a man who ‘has received intimately more women than he can count’, I have had my fair share of experience.”

“Then I think you should lead me.”

You finished unbuttoning his shirt, the clothing that was an obstacle for you to seeing his chest you desired seeing so. Finally, the shirt was not longer covering his top and you found yourself astonished seeing his scrawny physique. He could not be considered explicitly skinny while wearing all those layers of luxurious clothes. That was quite a change for you, but you still found yourself drawn to it after a few moments. The pale aristocratic skin seemed even more graceful to you when looking at him so closely, so personally.

“Turn around, my dear”, Pantalone asked you smoothly. You complied, and he started undoing your dress. The unabashed manner of his intricate movements confirmed that undressing a woman was but a regular practice for him.

The way his fingers moved felt so skilfully, a thought of what else good he could do with them crossed your mind unintentionally and gave you shivers.

“And do you often indulge your primal desires?”

For a few short moments Pantalone did not say a word. It was only after he undid your dress that he responded, calmly:

“The past few years I have been less enthusiastic than when I was in my full grace, in five-and-twenty.”

The confession, and the feeling of subtle hint of Pantalone having physical imperfections, for example, rheumatism, that is often seen in men of his age and would be a hindrance to remain well-performed in intimate activities, made you let out a slight giggle.

Your dress was undone and you felt slight tightness somewhere in your throat, realising that once you’d turn to face Pantalone he would see your breasts in all beauty. His hands gently touched your shoulders, but he did not have to press on you, as you turned to face him by your own will shortly.

A low sigh escaped his lips once he saw you, naked, bashfully but gracefully standing in front of him. From his perspective you were the most beautiful woman in the world. He could not dream of anything more satisfying than this.

“I do not deserve such beauty”, he said quietly, forcing himself to tear his eyes off your chest and look you in the eyes at last. His hand moved to your cheek, caressing it before it moved to your hair and gently pulled on your hair pins, letting your hair fall waves on your shoulders.

“May I?” Pantalone let yet another gasp when your hands appeared on the belt of his pants.

“Whatever you wish to do with me. I am yours.” He slightly pulled his arms to the sides in a welcoming gesture, but only for a moment.

You slowly unclasped his leather belt and in two languid motions he was completely bare in front of you. But if earlier he was bare just mentally before you, at this moment, he was standing quite literally naked.

“Pantalone, it’s-” so big.

He was not even close to a man who could be called rather hairy in terms of bodily hair, but a few dark black hairs were stood out below his waist area. You found it extremely hot, a knot in your stomach was imminent.

His piece was already stiff by the time you freed him of his clothes. The sight of it startled you, almost causing a gasp of your own.

“Are you-” Pantalone held his tongue, but the question was too important to be simply avoided. “Are you inexperienced?”

You nodded without a word coming out of you. Yes, despite your age you still had not known marital activities.

“I should have realised it sooner. Forgive me, I would have been less rapid with the manner of undressing you.”

“The manner you undressed me with was above beautiful.”

Pantalone smiled, and you smiled back, however there was still a pattern of worry in his eyes, a slight embarrassment even. He simply cared a lot for your sensations, not wanting to cause you any hint of harm.

“Don’t worry, all you have to do is relax and trust me. Will you do that for me?”

You stepped out from your dress, completely revealing yourself bare. Although impressed by the beauty of yours and the attractiveness of your skin, the smoothness of your complexion and the sweetest smile he had ever been given to, he held himself back in order to not cause you unnecessary tenseness.

“The process will be slow, I will treat you gently and carefully.”

In no time you felt your body on the king size bed, the softest cotton of sheets welcoming you naturally. You let out of a gasp seeing how Pantalone was quick to tower over you, his body was not big, it was skinny, but he was a man of considerably tall height so he seemed, at that moment, quite huge compared to you.

“Don’t be afraid”, he moved the hair strand out of your face, and then his finger traced a slow path down your lip, slowly tugging on it down. Your mouth parted, you looked at him the way a woman madly in love would look at her man. You did not know you could feel such hunger for anyone.

Pantalone then leaned to kiss you. The movement was very languid, smooth and almost innocent at first. Shortly, Pantalone sought entrance to your lips, parting it softly. With the carefulness of his tongue, the finesse of his skills he was teaching you into the art of love making. The kiss was long enough to leave you breathless, but sudden greediness burned inside you, telling oh, eternity will not be enough for you to feel him.

“I might need just one question to be addressed.” Pantalone pulled away from the kiss and gave you a look full of warmth and appreciation.

“What is it, my love?”

Gulping impatiently you steadied yourself. It was impossible to keep a blank expression on your face while having the thoughts of such wanton nature.

“Do you prefer to be in complete charge when it comes to such activities? Do you play a dominant role in the bedroom or, perchance, allow bit of work by the other party?”

Pantalone was a possessive man by any means, and regarding business he was known to be ignorant of advice. He always did the way he personally preferred it, in accordance to his experience and end goals.

But of course it was hard to predict him in marital relationships. The question you asked, you knew, it humoured him, as he let out an amiable chuckle.

“I won’t lie and say that I prefer to take a dominant position as to intimate relationships. That, of course, does not cut your chances to treat me with similar eagerness.”

He allowed you fervour and that was everything you needed to hear.

“I will start now, slowly warming you up. Don’t worry about anything, I want to ask you to feel me. Close your eyes…”

His voice alone was so soothing and made wonders on you. You shut your eyes, even though the curiosity disagreed.

There it was, a sensation you never knew possible. You felt the Harbinger’s hot breath on the centre of your heat… It was embarrassing, almost insufferable, upon realising that his head was between your legs, you felt nothing a strange sense of vulnerability. But all worries as if by magic had stopped once he parted your legs and kissed you right where it would send butterflies to your stomach at only single thought of this.

His tongue lapped against your wetted core, very kindly at first, but with more time passed his manner became nothing but of someone who had earnest dedication to their beloved one. His tongue was slowly pushed inside your quivering slit, your eyelashes fluttered impatiently. Pantalone managed to drew tiny pants and gasps out of your lips with success.

He did not plan on pleasing you with his mouth only, you assumed, when you felt the gratifying coolness of his fingertips. The firmness of his fingers when he rubbed your clit was embellished with the gentleness, the slowness of pace. At first, you didn't make any sound at all. You were completely and utterly smitten, adjusting to the senses of pleasure newly discovered by you. Only when his finger slid inside you carefully (but with great precision still) you let out a noise so scandalous and filthy.

“M-more…” you buckled your hips to the pleasure. Pantalone took advantage of it and added a bit of force to the movements of his finger in and out of your centre. Being overly sensitive due to your inexperience, you let out a cry.

You felt dampness unlike anything before. It was gathered in your heat, the fluids, increased in volume with the intensity of the earnest love making action, covered you.

“Archons, Y/N, you’re so aroused.”

It was not long after he added the second finger you could not deny yourself the ecstasy anymore and gave in to the feelings completely. You felt warmth in the stomach area and not long after you presented him your release, dampening his fingers to some degree.

You clawed his arm in frustration when you saw him move away.

“Pantalone, I want to make you feel good too.”

“You do?”

“Yes. Please, allow me to-” touch you where you touched me. Pantalone did not need you to continue.

“You want to bring me pleasure?” He sat on the bed, looking at you expectantly.

You slowly moved to your knees and sat yourself comfortably as well, as close to him as it was possible in such circumstances.

“May I touch it?”

“Of course. You may touch it as much as you please. Don't be shy.”

“Is it pleasant when I do it this way?”

“You may grip it firmer.” Pantalone made a distinguished “oh” with his mouth once your fingers grazed the soft skin of his peachy-coloured head.

“Frankly speaking, I am quite content with making you satisfied first, my dear. I wish nothing more than to bring you to the peak of satisfaction again and again. But if you want to take care of my body, I shall not deny you any of it.”

You attempted to gently stroke along his length, drawing small groans from Pantalone’s lips, only to be soon once again kissed passionately and as fervently as possible. You were pushed back into the softness of the sheets, and when the kiss came to its logical end, Pantalone gave you a look that was more attentive than fervent. That was the moment you realised what dominant approach meant to him. It was frustrating witnessing how he did not let you proceed with rubbing his member, clearly did not want to allow himself even a tiny amount of vulnerability. It saddened you, but at the same time a dominant approach didn't seem so bad to you either.

“I will be completely frank with you, it might hurt at first.” You nodded, seeking the already so dear to you the calmness in his eyes.

“I can handle a little pain. I am alone with the man I trust.”

You did not believe you said that so openly, considering that just an hour ago you were persuaded that you hated this man to guts.

You saw his hand disappear somewhere in between your bodies before a connection so intimate by body and mind finally happened.

Dull pain spread over your abdomen, your thighs felt unnecessary heavy, when his tip was pushed inside you with one definite movement of his hips. You gasped, gripping into Pantalone’s neck almost outrageously, unintentionally firmly, but meaning him no harm in fact.

“Continue… please, use it to the full extent”, you panted, knowing for sure that you sounded like someone who begged his heat to be inside her.

You did not have to request him twice - Pantalone entered with one full, satisfying movement and let out a long held breath:

“H-hah…”

The pain was indeed there, just as predicted, however he fit perfectly. Pantalone found your hands and intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Here, take my hands in yours. Grip them as tightly as you wish.” Your hands squeezed his, not tightly enough to hear the slight crack of his old man bones, but tightly enough for him to feel your wholehearted commitment.

“Now, I want you to keep your eyes on me, for me.” Pantalone said, deep buried within you, but not moving yet, letting you adjust, his hips looking extremely poetic in this angle. You held your breath for a moment when you saw how darkened was the colour of his eyes. He was so aroused - both physically and emotionally. You could feel his ragged breath and thought: oh my goodness, if he panted like this by simply being seated inside me, what noise is he going to make once given permission to move?

Your curiosity was soon satisfied. Pantalone gave you a careful push, as if tasting your insides, how he fit you with his hardened manhood. A particular sudden noise escaped your lips in accordance to the movement, and you started melting to the touch. You were already incredibly aroused when he pleased you with his tongue and fingers, but once he thrusted into you with ideal precision, which could only be possible for a banker by profession, you moaned filthily. “Okay?” He asked when he gave you a tiny taste of what’s to come.

“Okay.”

“Hold my hands, look at me”, he whispered, his voice dripping not with threat, it did not resemble his usual order-giving like manner. It was a gentle request. To which you complied, focusing on holding onto him.

“Are you in pain?”

“Not anymore. I think I’m…” you panted, “getting used to the… size. It’s getting more difficult to stay… silent.”

“Why are you holding your voice, my love?” Pantalone inquired, perplexed. His eyes bore into yours as his whole being buried deep inside you, slowly but steadily picking up the tempo.

“What if you don’t like the way I cry?”

"God damn Y/N”, the curse slipped from the banker’s tongue. You felt proud of making such a collected and well-mannered gentleman who represented nothing but affable demeanour in public, cuss.

“I’m fucking the woman I love, and if I’m making her cry of pleasure I want nothing more than to hear it.”

He released your hands at once and cupped your face in his cool hands, leaning towards you so closely in order to bring a delightful kiss to your lips. Upon not feeling his hands anymore you pouted, but the so wanted sensation was soon replaced with generous amount of warmth and electricity that occurred once Pantalone gripped your hips and increased the force of his thrusts.

“Oh my god, Pantalone… Oh my god… I feel like I’m losing my mind.” You scratched his back involuntarily, and you were sure it was not entirely pleasant for him, it might even leave red marks.

“Then do lose your mind, with me. Oh, my love-”

Your eyes were glued to his lips almost unblinking, but once he moved his hips so forcefully, your mouth opened with a loud sigh.

“Soon you’re going to feel pleasure you’ve never thought about. You’re going to think of things that never crossed your mind. You’re going to experience the peak you never thought possible. And I will be the one making you happy, should you allow me.”

“Of course I’d allow you!” Your panting replaced with blunt, honest cries of pleasure as his hips were moving gracefully and quickly with precision and passion. You noticed him abruptly stop, but only to change the angle.

“It’s better like this”, he gave you sloppy kisses all over your face, “deeper.”

With the smooth change of angle, something else entirely had been awakened in you, and with all passion of your feelings, all sincerity of your earnestness, you called Pantalone by his real name in the midst of love making.

“Fuck, Y/ N. Where did you hear this name?”

You did not respond, overwhelmed with passion and lust that were only developing in you gradually just now. There was a noise that came from his lips which did not resemble a hoarse, manly groan, but rather a vulnerable moan of someone close to the so desired release. And your assumption was confirmed when Pantalone buried his face into your neck and said with a tone extremely close to that of pleading:

“You may not respond. It is but nonsense right now. Oh Y/N, please, say that name again…”

Had he always been so handsome?- you thought. Had he always been so eye pleasing to you?- you did not know. But the way he was towering over you right now, panting, losing control both of his silver tongue and graceful body, seemed hot. It was not just scarcely amiable to you, the way he was being with you in such intimacy gave sprouting to the carnal desires you must have been hiding. The kisses were not exactly chaste anymore, and the way you stared into his gloomy, void-like eyes was not even close to platonic.

You said Pantalone’s real name again and again, tasting it on your tongue, playing with it, giving it more intense intonation with each thrust of his thick manhood.

“Archons- [his real name]!” you yelled again, this time realising you were close to falling apart, and even if you were lying on the bed you still felt insecure and unstable. You were shaking, but for a good reason. You did not even consider his mansion staff hearing such filthy moans containing the master’s true name slipping from your mouth. It was all irrelevant now.

Pantalone did not finish after a couple of shallow thrusts but he undeniably lasted not long. He could not, for the desire to finally have you was tremendous and his heart was practically throbbing in his chest, as with one more vulnerable, high-pitched moan he squirted his release.

You felt satisfying warmth dripping down all over your stomach. It was supposed to be unnoticeable, but due to swelled sensitivity you could still feel it. Seeing the creamy mess, however, you did not flinch in disgust.

“I must apologise for staining your stomach.”

“We can clean that just fine.”

That instant, hearing your recommendation Pantalone grabbed a freshly smelling towel from his wardrobe and wiped you clean.

“You, cleaning your seed from my body. The evidence of what we had done together. Doesn't this seem incredibly personal to you?”

“It does. I want to provide you with the sweetest aftercare, because you are deserving each second of it.”

After cleaning you dry Pantalone got under the blanket closely to you and kissed you. The kiss this time was not dripping with fervour; it was soothing and gentle. You pulled the lock of his hair down playfully and asked with a smirk so unusual in contrast to your diffident behaviour during intimacy.

“Did I take you well, banker?”

“You took me exquisitely. I apologise if my performance was not as satisfactory as you imagined. Let’s say, I was overwhelmed with eagerness to feel you thoroughly. The noises you would let out, the movements your hips would make to match mine. I find myself madly in love with you more and more by every second, and this intimacy was a development to enormous extent.” Your breath hitched and shook when he cupped your face the way he did it during your closeness, except for this time it was slightly less rough.

“I know you do not love me as much as I would want it to, but just letting me look at you the intimate way I do now, is enough for me to feel happy. I never thought I would be the one saying that, but I admit happiness does not consist of the material wealth only.”

“[His real name], I love you. I’m sorry that I lied to myself for so long. I’m sorry that I fooled you, too. I desire your company so, so much. You are my favourite person in this world.” The Harbinger’s hand which was stroking you froze in place. He looked at you, his eyes behind the glasses still looked deep and resembled the abyss. But you knew for sure that the way he spoke sounded nothing like of a man who was evil to the bone. It was soft, pleading, handsome and many other qualities, if someone heard you describe Pantalone with, would be called laughable. But this man was not as transparent as many thought. Behind the mask of the affable businessman, who was merciless to his rivals, there was a man who longed to be loved and taken care of.

“Oh, Y/N, Y/N…” his eyes were glistening with hint of tears. “I love you. I need you, too.”

#pantalone smut #pantalone angst #pantalone x you #pantalone x y/n #pantalone x reader #anime x reader #genshin x female reader

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musings-of-miss-j · 6 months ago

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no rest for the wicked (nor the foolish)

part eight: in which you're forcibly removed from your comfort zone by none other than the resident ginger, and you meet a certain someone's alter ego(s)

a harbingers x gn reader series!! (includes dottore, childe, arlecchino and pantalone x reader. the rest of the harbingers will not be romantic interests)

notes: surprise surprise, the burn is still slow!! mentions of blood, gn reader with a dosage of snark that probably exceeds the recommended value

series masterlist

author's notes: *daddy's home plays faintly in the background, slowly but surely increasing in volume as i approach you on a hoverboard with a comically large witch's hat on my head and a ridiculous pair of sunglasses on*

word count: 4725

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚** ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚** ੈ✩‧₊˚*

It was, by all accounts, supposed to have been a completely normal lab session. You were planning the reaction route you’d take to test the enzyme you’d synthesised and the various ways to ensure its effectivity other than the rate of the reaction and the yield as you waltzed through the door (the inscriptions were glowing a pretty purple-pink hue reminiscent of sakura blooms that day). The redox apparatus from two days prior was sitting exactly where you’d left it, nothing out of the ordinary there. The abnormality came in the form of a segment currently in the process of detaching the round-bottomed flask where your product had accumulated from the condenser; the first thought to register was the sheer audacity for anyone to even contemplate touching your experiments, while the second, this is my chance to study the constitution of these ‘segments’ up close, wasn’t far behind. Glancing up sharply, your flask still clutched in his un-gloved hand, (a voice in your head shrilly protested his lack of adherence to safety procedures) the segment began moving away, no doubt to disappear to wherever him and the rest usually stayed. With more agility than you thought you possessed, you rounded the workbench and grabbed him by his sleeve.

“You. What are you doing with my condensate?” You demanded, grabbing the flask from between his fingers and setting it down on a stand. Now that the imminent danger of your work going to waste was neutralised, you took the time to analyse this segment of your supervisor’s while you had him cornered. This version of Dottore was at least five years younger than the one you were familiar with, probably from his late Akademiya years. And he wore no mask, leaving two brilliant scarlet eyes on full display, rimmed with pale blue lashes and dark shadows beneath them. The segment coughed and fidgeted, trying to find a way to escape your clutches.

“Hold still,” you ordered, reaching up to touch his face. You were startled by the smoothness of the skin, having expected something cold and metallic. How in Teyvat did he pull this off? You tilted the segment’s face this way and that, looking for hidden wiring or steel plating or anything else that would belie machinery, yet you found nothing. You gave his cheeks an experimental squeeze, and were further surprised when your fingers dug into what seemed to be soft skin, then dropped your hands, stumped.

“Huh. You look very human.”

“Prime did tell me that was the intention,” the segment agreed, flushed in the face and still trying to discreetly push past you.

Even his voice didn’t sound robotic in the slightest, riddled with natural dips of tone and perfect inflection for the context. Your eyes took in every detail, every movement, still failing to spot anything that would’ve given him away as a machine.

“Incredible. Did he give you a name?”

“No. Prime wouldn’t waste a second thinking about something so inconsequential.”

If you weren’t mistaken, the segment sounded almost bitter, staring blankly down at the wall with those striking eyes. You felt a twinge of pity; being a clone for Dottore was probably a thankless task. “Would you like one?” You offered, not unkindly. “If your system permits that sort of input, of course.”

“I- I have no use for such things.” It was strange to think that your Doctor, impenetrable and unmoving as he was, had been capable of stuttering to the point where he himself recalled and implemented the trait.

“How about Theta? I’ll need to distinguish between you lot somehow.”

“It’s of no difference to me,” the segment- Theta- mumbled, before shooting you one last look, then disappearing in the split second it took to turn your head in his direction. You wondered where he’d gone, and why he was so wary of you.

Oddly enough, you didn’t see the Doctor for the entire morning and well into the afternoon. It was far from ordinary for him not to be in the lab the moment you arrived, (you suspected he slept there, if he even slept at all) muttering under his breath as he worked and occasionally ordering you to hand him the wrench or scalpel or graduated pipette in a tone so entitled it tempted you to bash him in the head with the very equipment you handed him. Still, you couldn’t deny his usefulness. Having two pairs of hands was always easier than one, especially when the other pair was as experienced as they came; you could bounce any question off him and receive a convincing answer, even if he could never resist throwing in a mocking remark about ‘how shameful it must feel to have such a rudimentary fact slip your mind.’

However, you had much better uses of your time than fretting over the location of your boss, such as extracting a sample of noradrenaline from the brain of a body so fresh you half expected the eyes to open in the midst of your operation. Even after such a time-consuming procedure, the Doctor had yet to make an appearance. You wrote it off, assuming he wouldn’t be present that day, and ate all the fruit tarts you’d brought while boring holes into your notebook with your eyes and trying to determine what exactly had gone so wrong amidst your calculations that the percentage error was at an unforgivable fifty seven percent.

“One hundred cubic centimetres of sulphuric acid sounds unreasonable,” a voice from over your shoulder remarked. You blinked, refocusing on the sheet of paper. A whispered curse slipped past your lips as you registered where you’d went wrong; the decimal point of the volume of acid was indeed one too many zeroes to the right. You twisted to see who’d given you the hint.

It would’ve been incredibly easy to mistaken this segment for Dottore himself, but he lacked the jagged scar spanning from above the mask to his chin and cutting right through the corner of his lip. This segment’s face also wasn’t as harrowed, unlike Dottore’s hollowed cheeks and deathly pale complexion. You probably would’ve missed the difference yourself, if you weren’t so accustomed to the tiny details of the Doctor’s countenance. The segment grinned lazily.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?”

Oh, for the love of-

You shoved him away with a roll of your eyes. Not quite as Dottore-like as his appearance suggested, then.

“You segments are rather friendly today. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Since Prime isn’t here to hassle us about disturbing you, we thought we might as well make use of the main lab.”

A frown formed between your brows as you mulled over his response, absent-mindedly scratching out the mistakes in your calculations.

“Main lab? There’s others? And why would the Doctor forbid you from utilising it on my account?”

The segment leaned over, resting his elbow on the workbench and his cheek in his hand as he watched you. “What do you mean why”- a delighted expression crossed his face, and his resounding cackle made you look up apprehensively from your notes. “Oh, what a scream. You mean you don’t know?”

The notion of ‘not knowing’ made the scholar in you bristle. “Don’t know what?” You snapped, crossing your arms and turning to subject him to the full force of your glare.

“You’ll find out soon enough, lovey,” he replied with another laugh. You scowled.

Patronising piece of-

“I heard you even gave one of us a name,” he said, interrupting your furious train of thought. “I didn’t think you were so besotted.”

You clicked your tongue dismissively, waving him off. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s counterproductive not to know the names of one’s assistants.”

It was the segment’s turn to bluster. “I am no one’s assistant!”

“Mhm. Be a dear, Gamma, and pass me the dichloromethane so I can make some aspirin for the inevitable headache you lot are going to give me.”

Muttering and grumbling and secretly preening over his namesake being a highly dangerous electromagnetic wave, he slid you the bottle and even a measuring cylinder and pipette to boot. You rewarded his extra efforts with a small smile, and Gamma suddenly understood every nonsensical thought that Prime had experienced since you arrived in Snezhnaya.

Throughout the day, more and more of the segments appeared from Archons-know-where and took to hovering around you while you go about your business, or chattering and doing a fine job of distracting you from whatever you were reading, or even rushing to assist you. You didn’t complain; it was fascinating seeing these different facets of the Doctor. Most of the older segments are rather similar to him, although Gamma had a rather prominent flirtatious streak, while another you’d named Omega was more snappish and impulsive. The younger ones were unfailingly comical; Theta was so easily flustered and a little more apprehensive about explosive compounds than the rest, and Pi, whose name referenced the pastry that was such a direct contradiction to his character, was rude, arrogant and reckless.

(“Since you’re such a bitter pill to swallow, I’ll call you Pi.” You grinned at your own joke. “No other aspect of you is remotely close to sweet, after all.”

Pi scowled animatedly, shattering the beaker in his hands from how hard he’d gripped it. “I won’t answer to a name given by a simpleton.”)

“Pi, clean the mess you made in the fume cupboard! Some of us have organic lungs that can’t handle toxic fumes, you know!”

“I don’t see how that’s my problem,” he snapped back, then slunk off to do as you’d told him when you weren’t looking.

The youngest of the segments, who barely reached your waist and had yet to even speak in your presence, had taken to trotting after you wherever in the lab you went, weaving between your legs and staring up at you with wide eyes half-hidden by a mop of messy blue hair. You’d come immensely close to tripping more than once, but you couldn’t bring yourself to scold him at all, instead nudging him out of the way like a cat sitting in the middle of the hallway. The segments were helpful enough, even if you’d been talked back at more times that day than your entire career as a lab technician in the Akademiya supervising young recruits, and by the time you were contemplating the prospect of heading to the dining hall for a bite to eat everything was in order; reagents alphabetically stored in their cabinets, counters wiped and glassware washed, even the enormous, curved windows were polished to a high shine. You spared them an approving look as you walked past, arms laden with bottles of (carefully separated) acidic and basic waste, admiring the aerial view of the snowy forest below, draped over the mountainside like a shaken-out blanket. The young segment was still tailing you, a lollipop you’d fished out from one of your pockets in his mouth; his utter disregard for where he was stepping had put you on your last nerve, but every time you sat him down in a safe corner he’d stare dolefully up at you before reappearing in your peripheral vision a few moments later. It was a wonder you hadn’t lost your temper, really.

“Epsilon, I can see your reflection in the window,” you pointed out in an unimpressed tone to the segment who’d been on the verge of grabbing your shoulders in an attempt to startle you. He huffed and grumbled, shaking the hair out of his eyes and cheekily tipping the neck of one of the bottles you were carrying as though to let the acid milkshake within, so to speak, spill, then pranced away from your scathing glare with a merry tune on his lips. You didn’t know how the segments seemed so familiar with you, as though they’d known you all their lives; Pi somehow knew how much value you placed on your leather gloves, as he’d threatened to use them for chromium extraction when you didn’t let him take one of your fungi petri dishes, Gamma had off-handedly mentioned how it was a shame your ear piercings had closed up years ago because you couldn’t match with their fluorescent blue test tube earrings, and Theta wordlessly handed you a pile of the expensive cider wood parchment you preferred to use and hurried away before you could say anything. It was baffling, to say the least, but you appreciated the extra help. It meant you could skip off to have a rather overdue lunch without fretting over something or other you might have mistakenly left over a Bunsen burner, even if it was strange leaving the lab without the Doctor’s voice criticising your lack of commitment to your education as the door swung shut behind you.

You weren’t even surprised to find Childe outside, leaning against the doorframe and tossing a dagger through the air, letting it flip over itself before catching it once more. When you opened the door, he stumbled into you and the dagger slipped from his hands as he nearly knocked you backward; but in a rare moment of swift reflexes you jumped to the side to snatch it from mid-air before it could stab either of you in the leg, only for Childe to latch onto your cloak as he fell and subsequently landing you on top of him. For a long, drawn-out moment, you just stared at each other; one of your hands pressed to the floor near his head while the other gripped the knife a safe distance above you. You quickly noted two things. One: Childe was bony and being draped over him was overall an uncomfortable experience; the apex of each of his ribs dug sharply into your chest, and two: his eyes were a peculiar, beautiful shade, less like the sea and more like heavy velvet thrown over something that glowed bright and blue, dimmed by the weight of the fabric.

Childe was finding it difficult to process anything other than your closeness. Yes, you were even more breath-taking up close and yes he would’ve given anything to place his hands on your waist and pull you closer still, but he was even more enamoured by the dips and points of your knuckles where your hand gripped the dagger, the creases in your leather gloves around each finger and the oddly calculating look in your eyes as you appraised him. You could stab him, he realised with a rush, staring up at you. You could drive the blade down and lodge it between his ribs and he probably wouldn’t be able to react fast enough because it was you, and his blood would stain your cloak and blouse and a coppery taste would fill your mouth. He wondered if Signora was right, and whether you really would look better in red.

You cleared your throat, breaking the spell, and Childe suddenly noticed all the other tiny little things he probably wouldn’t get close enough to see again. The notion that such things would remain secret almost made him panic, and it took considerable effort not to clutch at you as you rose to your feet and dusted yourself off. You extended your hand to him, and he allowed himself a split second of self-indulgence, the liberty of seeing your outstretched hand reaching towards his collapsed body as something more than it was; he let himself believe that you, so bright and resplendent in your every trait you might as well have been the moon, were offering him, a creature writhing in the darkness, salvation or even just a moment’s respite.

You hauled him up from the floor with a grunt of effort (he couldn’t possibly be as bony as he felt. All that weight had to come from somewhere), then took off your glasses and held them to one of the wavering white lamps, handing him the dagger.

“Hello, Eleven.” You frowned at the new scratches on the lenses and started rubbing them with the hem of your blouse, even if you knew it was a fruitless endeavour. “How long were you waiting out here?”

“Long enough,” he all but whined in response, slinging an arm around your shoulder and ruffling your hair. Your only protest was a half-hearted grumble as you shoved your glasses back on, and his chest warmed with the thought that you no longer instinctively rebuked his touch. “C’mon, Trixy. I didn’t think you were the type to ghost someone after a date.”

“What are you talking ab- oh, for heaven’s sake,” you said exasperatedly, shooting him a look as he walked towards the stairs with you in tow. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

He beamed so widely you nearly stumbled on the steps, blinded by the intensity of his glee.

“So you’re not denying it was a date?”

You sighed out an incredibly inappropriate curse, drowned out by Childe’s hearty laughter.

“You are an incorrigible man.”

“Well you went on a date with this incorrigible man,” he countered cheerfully and not without a healthy dose of smugness. That earned him a withering look, and you detangled yourself from his side as you walked down the corridor.

“Everyone makes mistakes,” you said with a shrug, laughing slightly when he let out an indignant splutter. Childe bristled, trailing after you with an exaggerated pout.

“You should apologise for hurting my feelings, Trixy.” “If I were to apologise every time I bruised your fragile ego I’d never have time to say anything else,” you teased, linking your arm with his and pulling him along. “Now come on, they serve an exquisite pumpkin soup on Wednesdays.”

You wondered at what point you’d become so friendly with the Harbinger, to feel relaxed enough to so casually poke fun at him. Maybe your self-preservation instincts were decaying. Maybe it was worth it.

“I don’t want to see that… Arlie again,” Childe protested. You looked at him sidelong.

“Oh?” You asked, feigning surprise. “Why not?”

Because she outranks me and I don’t like having to share your attention, he thought. “She beat me in a fight once,” he admitted grudgingly. It wasn’t even a lie; that bitter defeat was indeed part of the reason he felt less than ecstatic around her, though the atrocities she’d carried out to become the fourth Harbinger were impactful too.

“Infighting between members of the same organisation should not be the norm,” you stated, shaking your head. “You Fatui are ridiculous.”

Childe laughed, tugging you closer by your linked arms to elbow you in the ribs. “You’re one of us ridiculous Fatui now, remember?”

“I am not!” You protested, affronted, before sighing at the self-satisfied expression on his face and changing the subject. “Tsk. So you refuse to speak to her just because you lost to her once? That’s immature, even for you.”

“No, no, defeat is all part of the battle. I don’t like that she refused a rematch.”

You hummed thoughtfully, chewing over his response.

“So you believe you’d win this time?”

“Maybe,” he replied with a shrug, steering you past the dining hall’s entrance. “It doesn’t matter though, does it?” He continued, as though the idea of combat for the sake of combat was the most normal thing he could possibly conjure. “Sparring with a strong opponent is the real goal. Say, Trixy. Are you any good in a fight?”

You snorted. “I’m a scholar, Eleven, not a warrior. And even if I was, I wouldn’t spar with you.”

His face took on an almost comically wounded expression. “What? Why not?”

“Because I know when I’m outmatched,” you replied dryly, letting him drag you along. A dejected expression you felt compelled to ease fell over his face. “Although I do have passable aim with a bow and arrow,” you reluctantly offered, and the change in his demeanour to unadulterated ecstasy was laughable.

“Really?! You’ve got to show me.”

“What? No, absolutely not.” Your reply was swift and decisive, but Childe was nothing if not meddlesome and persistent.

“No, no, no, you’re not getting out of this,” he jubilantly exclaimed, tightening his hold on your arm as if to prevent you from running off. “We’re going to one of the training grounds right now, and you’re going to do some target practice.”

“I’ll use your bloody head as a target if you don’t drop it, Eleven,” you threatened.

“Great idea, let’s try that too!”

Even as you lamented his utter insanity, Childe steered you to the west wing of the palace where you’d never been before. Upon looking around, you concluded that all forms of combat training happened there; the sound of crashing steel and muffled gunshots, interspersed with the occasional crackling, sloshing or rumbling from what was probably from Vision holders practicing how to utilise their elements in battle. The silver in the walls was twisted into different patterns from what you’d become familiar with, abstract depictions of battles long-past and a whole wall of solemn, important-looking text gleamed almost menacingly, commanding the attention of any who walked past it. From your passable fluency in the Snezhnayan tongue, you deciphered it to be an oath of sorts where the reader swore to carry out a myriad of jovial things such as turning the snowy landscape into a ruby’s facet with the enemies innards or their own, and wreaking havoc within the heavens until it rained scarlet. All in the name of Her Majesty the Tsaritsa.

Wow. Bloodthirsty much?

You eyed the oath distastefully, missing how reverently Childe mouthed it as he led you into an empty archery range. Rows of targets stood on the other side, pockmarked and their paint scratched, with a few of them sporting an unfortunate red-brown stain. You were grateful that there was no one there, at least; if you were a little rustier than you remembered then there was no one to witness your mediocrity other than Childe, who was presently looking through the extensive selection of bows and chattering about the various advantages and disadvantages of different models. You riffled through one of the many quivers of arrows scattered haphazardly about, admiring the high-quality steel of the heads. Some of them even had meticulous patterns along their shafts, no doubt hand-painted, and you appreciatively traced a particularly striking golden dragon with tiny, methodical scales spanning the entirety of the arrow, ending at the head where the dragons jaws were open in a roar.

“Well, Trixy? What bow are you going to use?”

You glanced up from the quiver, twirling the dragon arrow between your fingers, eyes skipping over the countless bows laid across the stands. You noted the ones tossed carelessly across them with a disapproving glance, and eventually picked the one that was the most similar to what you remembered using, long-limbed with a straighter taper and made from wood you recognised as Yumemiru from the distinctive diamond-shaped whorls.

“Why that one?” Childe asked, mesmerised by the sight of you in his element with a weapon at your fingertips. What were you thinking about when your hands reached for that particular bow? Did you have any specifications, preferences in regards to size or even the type of wood it was made from? Were your eyes drawn by the faded blue leather wrapped around the handle? Would you prove to be better, smarter, quicker than he was? The thought sent his heart racing and his brain spiralling with the prospect of having you as a competitor, an opponent.

“Does it matter?” You replied with a shrug, testing its weight in your hands. “I’m no expert when it comes to the craftsmanship of weapons. The bow I learned to shoot was probably older than me with a string practically on its last life.” You frowned slightly, looking up at him. “Why do you ask? Is there some sort of technique or guideline I should follow?”

“No, no, don’t worry about doing something wrong,” he reassured, his back to you as he assembled a quiver of arrows. You lowered the bow to stare at him, flabbergasted that he’d so quickly and accurately read the involuntary hesitation in your answer.

“Usually we have beginners start with a compound bow, but you probably have your own inclination by now,” Childe continued, oblivious to your astonishment. “What you’ve got there is a longbow,” he added, tossing you an archery glove. “They’re generally more difficult to master and harder to use.”

You pulled off your glove after making sure his back was still turned before replacing it with the one he gave you, and then picked up the bow again with new interest.

“I see. And yours?” You asked, nodding towards the one he had picked, white wood gracefully curved and narrowed at the tips.

“This one’s a recurve bow. They’re better at close range and generally need more strength to draw.”

Childe couldn’t help but be entranced by your contemplative expression, all furrowed brows and a distant gaze as you took in the new information. He had to agree that you really were a scholar before all else; the pensive look you so often sported might as well have been made to be worn by your features. In your eyes, even an archery range became an experiment, a mystery to untangle. You sighed and turned to face the targets, nocking the arrow and drawing the bowstring back to touch your chin. Childe watched as you adjusted your aim, mentally evaluating your form, then let the arrow fly. He let out a low whistle of appreciation when it hit the centre with a satisfying thunk.

“Clearly your aim is more than just passable,” he remarked with an excited glint in his eye that you didn’t quite like.

“Accuracy is all I have,” you replied with a shrug, lowering the bow and gently pressing your fingers into the indent the bowstring left in your chin, perfectly aligned with the barely-visible scar there. You’d forgotten how tender the skin could get. “I doubt I can still hit a moving target, for one.”

“But you can get the bullseye every time?”

“Not every time,” you corrected, making your way to the target to pull the bow out of the wood. The painted dragon really was a masterpiece, and you took a moment to admire it before heading back to the archers’ stand. Childe grinned and followed after you, bow temporarily forgotten.

“So most times then?” He pressed, trailing closely behind you.

“Where are you going with this, Eleven?”

“I still think we should spar,” he replied brightly, so close he was practically breathing down your neck. “We’ll make it so that if you manage to shoot me even once, I go down, or we could”-

You twisted around to poke his chest with the fletching of the arrow, cutting him off. “No.”

“Please?” He implored, rounding on you whatever direction you turned to avoid him. “Please, please, please?”

“No!” You repeat, louder and with the full force of your irritation. “I’m not dying before I get this damned certificate!”

There was a beat of silence as he stared at you, slightly aghast. “You think I’d kill you?”

“…I don’t think you’d do so on purpose, no,” you conceded, taking out your pocket watch. “But your strength exceeds mine to the point where fearing for my life in a duel wouldn’t be unreasonable.”

“It is unreasonable to assume I’d ever hurt you,” Childe groused, continuing to block your path every time you tried to move past him. “Stop trying to get away,” he added, bending over to pinch your cheek. You stared at him, utterly at a loss for words, then quickly smacked his hand away with an irate grumble.

“I need to get away, I still have lab work to do.”

Childe flapped his hand as if physically shooing away the idea. “You work too hard, Trixy. Take a break.”

“And what do you think this little exercise was?”

“A chance to impress me with your archery skills, of course,” he replied without missing a beat, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly. You rolled your eyes with a quiet huff of laughter, pushing past him, and he dutifully followed after you.

“You’re not very difficult to impress, are you?” You teased back.

Only when it comes to you, he thought wistfully.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚** ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚** ੈ✩‧₊˚*

taglist:

@viridian-coffer, @vvzhyxx, @darifes, @whore-of-many-hot-men

@aenishas, @lovel3tter, @randomidk-123, @autistic-deer

@luvenus702, @zoriaisasimp, @ra404, @crownohomo

@diamondcookie45

if i missed you somehow please message me directly, bold means i’m having trouble tagging you! to be added or removed please comment on the masterlist post of this series <3

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mawlaeina · 4 months ago

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YOUR BIRTHDAY GIFT | SAGAU Childe

🍊 content: SAGAU! Childe x Reader extended?

✦ content w: none, it’s too plain to be fluff or anything else

Ah, it’s that day again.

You never really celebrated your birthday that much—it’s just like any other day when you’ve thought about it.

Instead, you spend your time on other things. You clean the house, you do your chores, read a few pages of a book on your TBR pile, and similar stuff.

You do all those just so you can make yourself feel a little bit better when you log in on Genshin Impact, that way the guilt of not being productive doesn’t hit you as much as it does on most days—you think of it as saving yourself from getting a bad mood when you play the game on your birthday.

Now, when you log into the game, you immediately go through the mail since the devs were kind enough to reward players on their birthdays.

However, this time your mail does not only contain the gifts from the devs, but also a gift from… Childe?

You had to read the name and content twice, then thrice. You seemingly couldn’t believe it.

Five hundred thousand mora and his specialty dish—A Prize Catch.

That’s… Odd…

Usually, you’d only get these kind of mails during his birthday. Though you later shook your head and began to think that it probably came with one of the updates of the game. Maybe the devs added a new feature during the last update.

You claimed the rewards first before reading his letter.

——————————————————

Happy Birthday

Sender: Childe

Time/Date: [Your Birthday]

I have to admit, I’m not really talented when it comes to baking—which is something that I’ll work on and improve in the future with Tonia’s guidance.

Teucer and I made a mess in the kitchen earlier and my mother wasn’t quite happy about it—I apologized of course! She told me that cakes aren’t necessarily needed to be given during birthdays, so I decided to make my special dish instead—oh, and the reason I call it “A Prize Catch” is because Octopuses are hard to catch at the cold docks here in Snezhnaya. Luckily though, I managed to catch one for you!

Just giving you a single dish doesn’t seem to sit right with me for some reason, so I decided to put in some money so you could buy what you want on your birthday instead—in case you didn’t like my special dish. It’s not much but hopefully it’s enough, it’s my first time doing something like this for you but I’ll make sure you’ll receive a cake by your next birthday.

Also, I’m thankful for the letters that you write to me on my birthday. Cheers comrade!

——————————————————

✦ because yes, I love him

✦ I’m a bit drunk as I wrote this

✦ 500k mora is just change to Pantalone, don’t worry

✦ a minor continuation to BIRTHDAYS | SAGAU! Childe, it was supposed to be longer but I ran out of plot to think

#childe #ajax #tartaglia #genshin impact childe #genshim impact tartaglia #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin sagau #self aware genshin alternate universe #self aware genshin #self aware childe #self aware tartaglia #birthdays #bad writing #but i love him #im drunk #on his love eyyy

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thebluester2020 · 28 days ago

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Kinktober Day 27: "Obedience Training"

Summary: Pantalone has bought a new pet! Unfortunately, training a new pet isn't as easy as it seems but, thankfully, he has all the patience in the world for you.

Warning(s): Heavy Pet-Play, Degradation/Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Nipple Piercing Play(?), Pure Kinky Filth, Master/Sir Kink, Pantalone is a bit of a sadist here ngl.

Side Note(s): I saw the hottest Pantalone fanart the other day so that alone made me want to write for him.

A roaring flame of desire flooded your veins as you currently sat on your master's desk. The keeper of his riding crop teasingly tilting your head upward to look into his deep violet eyes.

"For such a naughty pet that was giving me sooo much trouble earlier, you're rather eager to be obedient now, aren't you?" You blushed at the seductive way his words rolled off of his tongue. You swore that he could've made the most mundane thing sound good. Yet as you attempted to shift around on your spot on his desk, you hissed when he suddenly tugged at the metal chain that connected the pretty nipple piercings that he gifted you just last week.

Pantalone tilted his head with a stone-faced expression when you squeezed your thighs together, trying to hide the slick that was quickly pooling on his desk.

Not that it was possible to hide much from the harbinger to begin with, in his line of work, he always had to have a keen eye. And he wouldn't dare to let those rules falter, not even when it came to you. "On the contrary pet, you seem to be enjoying this rough treatment...wouldn't you agree?" You gasped when he tugged at the chain once more, pulling you forward a little as the delicious sting of pain made drool begin to build up in your mouth.

You managed to give him a shaky nod. "Y-Yes..."

"...Yes...?"

"M-Master..." Your already red face deepened in color at the title.

As good as he was at making you feel like his prized lover, he was equally good at making you feel like an unworthy dog. "Even though you were rude enough to interrupt my meeting just a mere day ago with such abhorrent behavior—" Pantalone gently placed the riding crop beside your thigh, keeping a finger dutifully looped around the chain whilst his newly freed hand traveled to your thigh, steadily parting them to glance at your wet cunt. "—I'm feeling generous with how gorgeous you look in the piercings I bought you, pet." He sighed.

Your eyes immediately went to his hardening cock.

Yet as you dared to try and move your leg to graze against it, a quick smack against your inner thigh put you back in your place. "Don't let my praises make you resume your previous behavior," Pantalone sternly warned.

"You'll take what I give you and pray to whatever Archon is willing to listen to that mouth of yours that I even consider giving you more." A high-pitched whine left your lips when a gloved finger of his began to tease your entrance, inspecting and parting your cunt as if he were eyeing a new product. "P-Please..." You begged, the rest of your sentence choking up in your throat when Pantalone tugged at your chain, silently ordering for your silence.

However, it was so difficult to be silent when all you could think about was how much you wanted him to do something to you, anything even! You knew very well how good his fingers felt on your cunt, how skilled and knowledgable they were about where to touch and exactly how to make you squirm and beg for more. His tongue was even more skilled, that alone was easily concludable with how easily sly words fell from his lips.

Each word sounded like a gift and the way he'd move his tongue on your clit was even more of a gift.

The very memory of how it felt against you, you couldn't help but squirm.

Your lover quickly responded by grabbing the back of your head and tugging it, forcing your head back and exposing your neck. "Now pet...I know you aren't putting up a pitiful fight against your punishment are you?" He chuckled sadistically.

"N-No..." You moaned, the pain from him pulling on your head blending in well with how he parted your legs even more, his fingers having more room to play with your cunt as they teasingly danced around touching you where you wanted him most. "Please...just touch me."

"Oh?" He hummed. "But I already am—" He leaned in to press a kiss to your jugular, his raven hair framing his porcelain skin perfectly as he looked at you through his long lashes. "—You'll have to be more specific darling, or else..." You keened when his fingers ghosted over your clit, delicately flicking at your nub for only a moment before his fingers went back to trailing and circling around your entrance. "...I'll continue playing with you a little more."

"My-my clit...t-touch me there...!" Pantalone laughed at how shameless you were at your begging. "I need it...n-need you, so badly..."

He had a mind to reward you with a kiss for how prettily you begged. But, as he pressed the pad of his fingers to the hood of your clit, immediately taking up a fast pace, he figured with how you were beginning to cry from the pleasure...this was a reward enough. "Try not to cum too quickly darling," Pantalone chuckled. "Let's test your endurance, hm? Needy sluts like yourself need to be trained well in how to last long."

"A-Ah—!" You yelped when his hand suddenly left your hair to begin resuming his tugs to your chain. "S-Slow down! I-I feel..."

Pantalone smirked. "Slow down? For what?" He cooed mockingly. "Don't tell me you're already trying to make demands of me darling...even after I've been so gracious with you, you still want to make demands like a whore with no training." He spat before tugging at your chain even harsher.

Your body was confused with what it wanted to do. You wanted to scream from the pain but also moan with how good Pantalone was touching your clit, your slick beginning to pool and drip down the front of the desk. "Ahh....m-master...!" You whined. "Mercy—"

"So cute darling..." He chuckled as he blatantly ignored your pleas by sliding his fingers from your clit to teasing your entrance for a moment before quickly plunging his fingers into your cunt. You choked on your own breath with how quickly he found your g-spot, the feeling of his knuckles persistently rolling into your sweet spot making you scream in pleasure. "You've always had such a lovely set of lungs on you," Pantalone continued to praise you, his words going straight to your cunt. "Let's see how much you can truly handle, hm?"

In unison with him fingering your cunt, Pantalone then started to pull at your chain, tugging at your nipples just hard enough to where you felt the stings of pain but not to where it overrides your pleasure. "N-No, this is...too...fuck...!" You whined, your hips beginning to unconsciously buck to meet the thrusts of Pantalone's fingers.

"T-Too deep..." You panted. "C-Can't take it...master..."

Your lover smirked wickedly. "You can't?" He laughed incredulously in your face. "Too bad." Pantalone then lowered his face to where you could feel his heated breath against the shell of your ear. "If you aren't feeling a little fear darling...how do you expect to learn from your mistakes?"

Tears of frustration and pleasure then began to build on your eyeline. "But...I-I have learned!"

Pantalone suddenly tore his fingers from your pussy before smacking your cunt, your body jolting from the sudden smack. "I'll be the judge of that, not you." He frowned, smacking you once more before he returned to fingering your cunt. Steadily a knot began to form in the pit of your gut, one that grew tighter and tighter by the passing second as your thighs began to shake at the force of your oncoming orgasm.

"You seem a little distracted..." Pantalone said, loosening his grip on the chain entirely as he decided to use his other hand to rub at your clit, the influx of pleasure making your arms fly to loop around your lover's neck as you quickly pulled him closer. "Are you close darling?"

"Uh huh..." You nodded dumbly, pleasured tears streaming down your face. "Please...let me cum..."

He smirked at your honesty, a quiet moan leaving his lips as he started to rut shamelessly against your leg in an attempt to stave off his need to sink himself deep inside your pussy. "The sound of you begging to cum is like music to my ears..." He moaned. "Keep doing it, and I just might have no choice but to let you cum."

Without a second thought, pleas and moans for more left your lips like a unblocked dam. Your arms looping tighter around Pantalone's neck as you began to lose yourself to the pleasure. "Fuck..." You whined. "P-Pantalone...I'm so close...pleasepleaseplease let me cum." You said as a lewd squelching noise started to reach you and Pantalone's ears alongside your combined panting and moaning.

The harbinger thought you were so cute with how earnestly you were begging him to allow you to cum all over his fingers. Although the sadistic part of him wanted to make you wait a little bit longer for your orgasm...it seemed like you were influencing him. He'd be able to teach you more thoroughly with his cock fucking you into unconsciousness. "Okay then..." He panted. "Cum, cum all over your master's fingers." He said before he pressed his lips to your own.

The tender softness of his lips on your own...that was the straw that broke the camel's back as you suddenly tensed up, a loud gushing noise escaping from your cunt as you screamed into your lover's mouth, grabbing at any article of clothing that you could to further stabilize yourself.

Pantalone only took his lips away from yours when he felt you weakly smack him to let him know you were running out from air, a single string of spit still connecting the both of you as he looked down to see the front of his pants darkened by your fluids. "Now...how did my cute pet manage to make such a mess?" He lightly scolded you, gently taking his fingers from your sex before he tasted your cum.

You blushed as he hummed at your addictive taste, releasing his fingers from his lips with a 'pop' before his eyes returned to your own. A renewed hunger settled deep within his pupils as he smirked at you. "I suppose I'll have to teach you a little longer, won't I pet?" He said before he pressed his hard-on against your leg more obviously.

You couldn't nod your head fast enough.

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serendipityandbenevolence · 9 months ago

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Arlecchino x GN Reader (SAGAU)

I kinda can’t believe that I’ve written 3 fanfics in 24 hours, after not writing for a year, but idk. I’m motivated and don’t have much else to do (except ignoring my bio homework) (send help, what the hell is osmosis?) I thought about writing for Pantalone next, but @nervouseaglelover requested Arlecchino and I am nothing if not a people pleaser. This may be ooc, but idk SAGAU is nothing if not ooc if we’re being honest. I’m starting this at 6'o clock my time, so hopefully it’ll be done by 9 or 10, if I’m being productive.

Contains - Arlecchino girlbossing, gaslighting and gatekeeping you, her being obsessed with you, mentions of death and murder, mentions of Dottore's head collection (don't ask, it came to me in a dream), tartaglia being beat up by Arlecchino for the second time in this series

Part one is here - the masterlist for the other endings is here

“Arlecchino?”

If you were being entirely honest, you expected a little more … decorum when you had called for Arlecchino. Not the veritable swarm of Harbingers that appeared in your doorway, the moment her name had left your mouth. All of the Harbingers, excluding the one whose name you had uttered.

Tartaglia was at the front of the pack, to little surprise, with his eyes bright with curiosity and a liveliness you rarely saw through a screen. Tucked away to the side was Pantalone, who looked far more … weary than you had expected. His eyes, compared to Tartaglia’s, were bloodshot and dull, with an aura of tiredness radiating off him. You could faintly see the silhouettes of who you assumed to be Capitano and Pierro in the back, looming over the others, and Signora, who stood tall behind Tartaglia, eyes fixed coldly upon you.

You waited, expecting someone to explain why they were ominously standing in your doorway, eyes silently surveying you. But no explanation came and no more movements were made, they seemed almost fixed in your doorway, as though they were waiting for something from YOU.

“Arlecchino?”

You repeated her name again, craning your neck to see if she was merely hidden behind one of her coworkers, concealed by her taller companions. But she did not appear, and you were beginning to wonder if she was not there at all.

Until a perfectly manicured hand reached through the flock of Harbingers and firmly gripped Tartaglia by his hair, dragging him away from the doorway as she stepped into his place.

“Tartaglia, it is awfully rude to be lingering in the doorway like that, not even bothering to greet Their Grace. Such impoliteness does not make a good first impression.”

Arlecchino’s sweetly poisoned words broke the silence, inspiring a string of curses from the 11th Harbinger and some muffled laughter from what sounded like the Balladeer, although you could not see him to confirm. But Arlecchino ignored them and turned to you, eyes soft and yet … hungry. Possessive.

“You called for me, Your Grace? How may I be at your service?”

Her honeyed words and dark eyes had you entranced, almost unable to speak, to respond to her question.

“Oh, I was just wishing to speak to you…”

Arlecchino’s smile widened and she stepped into your room, spinning to address her fellow Harbingers.

“Well, you heard Their Grace. I will be … conversing with them, so please give us some privacy. I’m certain that you all can find something else to do with your time, rather than stand here awkwardly.”

The crack of her slamming the doors in the other Harbingers faces made you jump, but you barely had time to process it before Arlecchino started prowling towards you. Her smile was friendly, but the darkness in her eyes remained, making you nervous. At least, that’s what you assumed those feelings were.

“Oh, Your Grace, look at your hair! It must have gotten all matted while you were resting. Here, let me fix it for you.”

“Huh? My hair feels fi-”

Your words were abruptly cut off as Arlecchino sat down on the side of your bed, tugging you towards her as she wrapped her arms around your waist, pressing your back to her chest. One of her hands made its way to your head, but rather than attempting to fix any knots that may or may not exist, she just tucked your hair behind your ears.

“Your Grace, I understand that you may be worried about those heretics who attempted to take your life. I would like to assure you that you are perfectly safe and that I am ensuring you will never have to worry about them ever again.” She whispered softly into your ear.

Still caught up with the whiplash of the hair, to the hugging, to the thinly veiled threats of murder, you found yourself rather unable to form a coherent response, instead choking out a rather unintelligent sounding ‘mhm’. But Arlecchino didn’t seem to mind, instead giggling softly at your lack of a response.

“I’m glad to see that you are … unbothered by your attackers. My children are hard at work making sure you are kept safe, but knowing that you are already at ease makes me a little less concerned for you.”

“Your children? Do you mean the children of the House of the Hearth?” You finally managed to ask, only just now able to form meaningful sentences again.

“Indeed, you are very intelligent, Your Grace! My children are fetching the heads of your attackers as we speak, bless their hearts. My children are very devoted to you, I hardly even needed to make the suggestion to track down those pieces of scum. I have a great many heads already, if you wish to see them? I have made sure that they are well preserved, so you can gaze upon the mostly intact heads of your enemies without the fear of them beginning to smell.”

“Oh! That’s … uhm … very kind of you? I don’t think I need to see any heads though?”

“Very well then, I will give them to Dottore to add to his collection. I’m sure he will find them a rather pleasant gift, although perhaps not as nice as being able to slay your enemies in person.”

While trying to cope with the second round of emotional whiplash in the last 5 minutes, mostly due to the unwanted knowledge of the fact that the Doctor has a HEAD COLLECTION, you turned to Arlecchino, hoping to inquire more about her ‘children’.

But instead, you found her staring at you with an uncharacteristically stern expression.

“Your Grace.”

“Arlecchino?”

She leaned in close to you, so your faces were only inches apart. You would have thought it was romantic if her eyes were not quite so severe.

“I am a Harbinger. But I am a devotee to you, first and foremost. So, should the need ever arise … Say the word and I will kill any of them.”

“Pardon?” You managed to choke out.

“You heard me, Your Grace. Say the word and I will kill any Harbinger, any Archon, any human or beast that you wish.”

Arlecchino kept eye contact with you for only a moment longer, before smiling and releasing you from her grasp, standing as she did so.

“I believe I hear Pierro calling for me. Forgive me, Your Grace, I must leave you to rest now.”

“But I don’t hear anyone calling for you?”

“Oh? Maybe you were not listening hard enough?” She smiled sweetly and made her way to the door, her lingering words all that remained of her, despite your hurried pleas for her to stay.

“Sweet dreams, Your Grace.”

I actually wrote this in less then 2 hours, I’m lowkey impressed with myself. I know the ending is kinda rushed and vague, but i also totally see Arlecchino gaslighting you like that to get out of a convo. I had a really good time writing this, so I hope yall have a good time reading this! Probably Pantalone next? Idk, we’ll see. I’ve learned not to make promises about my writing anymore.

#genshin impact #genshin sagau #genshin x reader #fatui x reader #sagau x reader #yandere genshin #genshin headcanons #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino genshin

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newtpootsworld · 1 year ago

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I have no idea what I’m doing on tiktok so enjoy my shenanigans lmaooo

#clone high #clone high s1 #clone high jfk #clone jfk #cosplay #trans cosplayers #pantalones productions

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mickstart · 6 months ago

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Genshin casually dropped the fact that one of the main villains is IDENTICAL to a character we've known since liyue in an animated teaser and then literally refused to elaborate and it makes me feel like I'm on crack every time I remember.

The thing in genshin that haunts me most is whatever the fuck is going on with baizhu and pantalone. Literally keeps me awake at night.

#genshin #least horrifying answer: baizhu is a product of unethical research and dottore literally tossed him in a dumpster #most horrifying answer: pantalone has canonically fucked

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cakerollk · 1 year ago

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new fontaine oc dropped

His name is Delphinium, 'Phin' for short. he is an amalgamation of jack the ripper, elizabeth bathory and Grenouille (perfume making of a murderer)

He works closely with flowers and plants to make his products BUT his secret ingredients are human body parts mainly skin, blood and bone marrow ala alchemy and he only abducts beautiful young people :)

fun extra: -Pantalone is one of his regulars, the perfume he uses for his letters are all made by Phin (no the regrator doesnt know whats really in the perfume) -He doesn't target children. Genuinely he is fond of them, but also in his own words "their beauty have yet to fully bloom”. -Originally from Mondstadt. the Knights never could catch him.

#genshin impact #genshin oc #karol kraft

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morose-melodies · 2 years ago

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hi! i hope you’re having a great thanksgiving. i was wondering if you could maybe do a drabble where capitano and pantalone (seperate) have a lover who sleeps all the time

counting sheep | capitano x reader / pantalone x reader

content warning: none.

(sorry for taking so long to make this :))

"happy to see you," you mumbled from the comforts of your bed, your body wrapped in thick blankets to protect yourself from the cold draft coming in.

capitano grunted in response before making his way to the closet, where he would change and lie down for the night.

as capitano removed his armor, he thought about you. how was your day? did you stay in the bedroom all day? did you eat anything? did you miss him?

once capitano entered the bedroom once again, you were fast asleep on the bed, your arms stretched out as you lay there, softly breathing.

capitano sat on the edge of the bed and rested his hand on your head, causing you to stir and wake up. you pushed yourself away from capitano to give him more space.

he moved further onto the bed and laid down beside you. once he was comfortable you scooted towards him and rested your head against his chest and his arm wrapped around you.

you went limp seconds later, your eyes closed and your body close to his. capitano held you closer to himself and ran his finger across your cheek and neck, repeatedly.

you were a light sleeper but made up for the lost sleep by sleeping throughout the day. it took some getting used to for capitano because he wasn't used to such a lack of activity in his free time.

but he got used to it- silently spending time with you, though it was one-sided. he would hold you in his arms, run fingers across your skin, and press his cheek against yours, to feel the heat from your body going onto his.

it wasn't long before you woke up though, twisting and turning in capitano's arms until you were on your side, your back against his chest.

he shifted, his arms adjusting around you as he pulled you closer to himself. you took hold of his hand and closed your eyes once again.

your grip on his hand tightening as you drifted off to sleep once again.

PANTALONE

"get up, (y/n), being lazy will get you nowhere," pantalone pulled a blanket from over your body, which gained a groan from you as you turned onto your side and wrapped your arms around your body.

"(y/n)," pantalone pinched your thigh, once, twice, and then one last time, you shifted away from you, groaning. "look out the window, it's bright and early, it's time for you to get up, (y/n)."

"I have nothing to do, no work, unlike you. so let me rest," you mumbled into your pillow, while using one had to reach for the blanket pantalone pulled off of you.

"even so, get up. be productive, make yourself breakfast, read a book, make a snowman, (y/n), do anything." pantalone took hold of your hand and pulled you up so that you were sitting up.

"..." you frowned, as you looked up at pantalone, "don't frown, (y/n)-"

you got up and went into the bathroom and pantalone heard the shower start. he smiled to himself as he left the bedroom, satisfied with himself.

...

"(y/n), are you not done with your shower yet? its been an hour and a half." pantalone knocked on the bathroom door and gained no response.

he sighed as he reached for the doorknob, expecting it to be locked but the door opened. pantalone looked into the bathroom, "(y/n)?"

he took a step in and looked around, and to his surprise, you were asleep, on the toilet.

pantalone's eye twitched.

he kneeled in front of you and tapped your leg until you woke up, seemingly dazed and confused as you looked around, "what? what are y-"

"(y/n), why were you sleeping in the bathroom? with the water running?" pantalone sighed as he stood up, bringing you up with himself.

"come with me, you'll be my assistant for the next few days, so now you'll have something to wake up for." pantalone smiled.

#capitano x reader #capitano #the capitano agenda #fatui harbingers #fatui harbingers x reader #reader x pantalone #pantalone #pantalone x reader #capitano x y/n #capitano x you #pantalone x you #pantalone x y/n

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lonely-vault-boy · 2 years ago

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Judging tall Genshin guys based on their shower routine

Dottore:

- not playable, doesn’t matter

- he smells like motor oil and chemicals

- he probably showers when Pantalone refuses to let him into the bed covered in blood

- that’s about it

Pantalone:

- very looong bubble baths (with candles and everything)

- fanciest shit from every nation and he uses like a single drop bc it’s expensive and therefore precious to him

- bottles not labeled very well, Dottore washed his hair with deodorant at least twice

Al Haithem:

- unscented bodywash/shampoo

- industrial sized, so he doesn’t have to interact with anybody at the store

Kaveh:

- whatever Al Haithem buys

- has some super sweet smelling lotion tho

Itto:

- real men don’t use soap

- does not wash between ass cheeks

- despite not believing in soap, he owns 7 different bottles of hair products that he uses daily

- Shinobu made him buy soap

Diluc:

- normal unscented bar soap

- shampoo that’s some flavor of man scented or something (it’s called Righteousness and Kaeya and Venti laugh about it constantly)

Childe:

- walks around smelling like a goddamn fruit basket

- despite being a living weapon, he’s pretty consistent with his routine bc “something something a warrior must look after their body etc etc”

- really likes citrusy scents (hence smelling like a fruit basket)

- rumor has it that a treasure hoarder in debt to the bank once walked into a farmer’s market and started crying in front of a barrel of oranges

Thoma:

- gets all of his stuff for free, so it’s not super consistent

- not bc he’s completely broke, ppl just love to help out Thoma when he compliments them and give him free products

- nobody loves the way he smells more than the critters

Ayato:

- if elegance was a scent, that’s what he’d smell like

- probably vaguely reminiscent of clean linens

- doesn’t know what he uses, his servants buy stuff and draw the bath for him

Kaeya:

- probably smells like aftershave and wine

- but in a fresh way

- also follows a consistent skincare routine, but occasionally forgets to take off his eyeliner before bed

Zhongli:

- “the water must be the perfect temperature, lightly scented with petals of…”

- “it’s a bath, Zhongli. Not soup.”

- very particular, but not very consistent

- uses it as more of a relaxing activity than to actually clean himself

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viviennevermillion · 2 years ago

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Spa Day with him

notes: just some sweet relaxing moments with pantalone in his private spa and bath house.

contains: pantalone x gn!reader headcanons

warnings: non-sexual nudity I guess

Pantalone loves to spoil you, everyone knows that. Usually it comes in the form of expensive gifts that he just brings home one day whether you know what to do with it or not. He has so much money and he's so weak for you that whenever he sees something he thinks you might like, he gets it for you, no matter the price. But sometimes spoiling you comes in the form of a nice spa day at his private bath house. It's literally just for him and you, no one else uses it.

He makes sure you have everything packed before heading off with him and that you're equipped with only the softest towels. He holds your hand all the way there.

The entire house just smells like bath salts and perfumes but it's not in a bothersome way but it's actually really nice.

He has staff who work there part-time and they get notified everytime he wants to use the place to prepare everything for his arrival, especially when he's bringing you. His staff knows he wants everything to be absolutely perfect for you and meanwhile you're just like "wow look at that cool rock in the window" and mostly focused on spending time with Pantalone. You have to watch your words around that man because you just comment on a pretty crystal you see as decoration and he tells an employee to get that for you immediately. It's yours now. You're taking that home. You learnt that with time, at least after that one time he took you to a banquet and you told him you liked the interior design of the building and he went "it's yours :)" "what?" "I just bought this building for you :)"

Before the trip, he inquires what temperature of water you enjoy most and then he makes sure the water of the pool is exactly that temperature.

If you have any allergies he's also very adamant about no products being used that could irritate your skin.

He's looking forward to relaxing in the bath with you.

Be a menace and push him under a waterfall or sprinklers in the pool. :)

"Y/n, I love you dearly and I'm so happy to spend this glbrlrbbrlr-" Pantalone pushes you off and brushes his now wet hair and all that water off of his face. "I spoil you with all of my love and affection and this is how you thank me", he pouts and moves a bit away from the sprinklers just to be sure.

If you tease him enough, he'll fight back. You're the only one who gets to see this playful side of him; splashing water at each other while teasing each other and laughing together. And god, Pantalone has one of the most beautiful laughs you've ever heard when it's genuine and he's having a good time.

He put some of those pool noodles to the side of the pool in case you wanted to do some water aerobics but you just end up beating each other up with these things. "Granted, this is not how I expected this day was going to go", he chuckles and shakes his head.

"We're putting you in timeout now", he grabs you and carries you over to one of the waterfalls. You're protesting playfully, trying to splash water into his face again, but he drags you through the waterfall. Just as you're about to attack back, you notice there's actually an artificial cave behind it and when you entered, a hundred tiny fairy lights turn on inside it. Even the water is being lit up with beautiful colors and there's art made out of crystals and pretty stones decorating the walls. Pantalone sits down on one of the benches in the water and pulls you onto his lap, resting his head against your shoulder and sighing happily. "Did you just drag me here for affection?", you smirk at him and press a kiss against his forehead. He lets out a hum and nods, starting to kiss your neck. You close your eyes, enjoying the sensation of his lips on your skin, gently running your fingers through his hair.

"Love you", he mumbles against your skin as you absentmindedly twirl the white strand in his hair around your finger. "I love you too", you whisper back softly, holding his face in your hands before kissing his lips gently. At the end of the day, this was all you needed. Sure, the gifts and the fancy locations were an added bonus sometimes but what made you happiest was Pantalone showing his love for you, just kissing you for minutes on end. He just couldn't get enough of your kisses, hardly noticing the time pass for as long as you're in his arms.

He provides you with your favorite meal at lunchtime.

He has one of those saltwater pools that let you float on the water if you lean back. The temperature is a bit warmer than in the regular pool and it makes the water feel a bit like a comforting blanket. You let yourself float on the water and you see that the ceiling above the pool has been painted to depict the night sky realistically. Pantalone also hired some people to play slow songs on the piano and the harp for you, so the two of you just lay there for a while, holding hands and staring at the painting while enjoying the beautiful music in the background. Pantalone specifically told the musicians to play your favorite songs.

He talks with you about whatever you'd like to discuss, eventually shifting his position to be standing in the pool instead of floating, so you can you lean your head against his chest.

He has a sauna but you keep wondering why even because he doesn't last 5 minutes in there. He just complains it's too hot for him and wants to leave.

After exiting the bath, the two of you take a shower and he just keeps holding you, almost falling asleep with his head on your shoulder and the warm water falling down onto you. He kisses your forehead and tells you how much he loves you once more, linking his fingers with yours.

He dries you up with the towel and he's super gentle with it too and presses a kiss to your cheek when he's done

Pantalone gets a manicure and pedicure and offers you one too if you want one.

Has hired professionals for giving massages but he gets slightly jealous after like 5 minutes and wants to do it himself. Not like you're complaining. You relax and let him massage your shoulders and back. The bonus of Pantalone doing it is that you get several kisses littered over your shoulder blades and neck.

He swoons so much if you massage his shoulders in return. He literally falls asleep because he hasn't been as relaxed as this in ages. He does so much desk work and paperwork that he has so much tension in his back and shoulder muscles. He looks so adorable when he's asleep too. Like a soft little angel. Almost makes you forget that he scams people for a living and is responsible for a few unfortunate deaths when they can't pay their debts.

He sleeps with a smile on his face because he just loved that affection he got from you so much. You can't bring yourself to just wake him up again so you cover him with a towel and sit down on a chair beside him for a while, caressing his shoulders with your fingertips for a while and running a hand through his hair. He still leans into your touch even when he's sound asleep.

You two leave the private spa in the evening when it's already dark, Pantalone having ordered a carriage to pick you up and drive you back to the palace. You sit there next to him with that huge decorative crystal you found pretty in your lap, already debating where the hell you're supposed to put that and Pantalone is like "do you like your gift? :) ✨"

author's note: i hope you enjoyed this one. ❤️

#genshin impact #pantalone x reader #pantalone x you #pantalone headcanons #pantalone #genshin impact pantalone #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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