Pantalone took a particular interest in a small boutique in the corner of a busy street in the main town of the region. Upon waltzing in with his men behind him, Pantalone fixed his glasses and eyed the room. There was one main rack in the middle of the store, dresses and coats hung on the hangers to promote the latest fashion trends that were popular with adult women. To the right of him were shoes of all sorts. Other parts of the shop held similar fashion lines with a singular fitting room to the left. As much as Pantalone would love to sort through the clothes for fun despite having no use of it, his presence was much intended for business purposes. 

As the overseer, Pantalone’s subordinates would come and collect monthly percentages based on the sales of the business. Unfortunately, if the debt was late, the Harbinger would make his own appearance. 

And that was no different today. 

Pantalone’s voice boomed through the shop, listening to the crackles and pops of the fire. When the silence was too much to his liking, he cleared his throat and ventured more in the shop, the soles of his shoe becoming agonizingly loud with each step on the wooden floor. A muffled voice shouts from the back as the sound of heels hitting the floor becomes louder. “M-Mr.Pantalone! Hello, I am so sorry for not greeting you at the door!”

“Ah. I was starting to think that the shop was abandoned. How unfortunate that would have been. How delighted I am to see you.” He hums, purple eyes staring down at you from his lenses. “Hopefully you are just delighted to see me too?”

You laugh nervously at his question, wanting to look anywhere else in the store but cannot avert your gaze. “Of course! I would like to greatly apologize for being late. My earnings have not been up to par, not many people have been coming in and I-". You're cut off when a gloved hand is raised in the air. You feel your throat begin to tighten as the silence swallows you whole.

"As much as I adore stories such as that, I certainly do not care. Do you have what I am here for?" he asks, stepping closer.

Your teeth gnaw at your lower lip as anxiety begins to spread across your whole body, your heart beginning to beat a little faster and your hands suddenly becoming clammy. “I do…”

“But?” He asks, eyebrow raised in curiosity.

“It’s not enough.”

Oh. He didn’t like that.

He hums and nods his head slowly. “I see. And how much are you lacking? Do be honest.”

“About 10,000 mora, sir.”

The Harbinger perked up at the name, a smile blooming across his features. “My my, that is quite a lot.“ he says, turning on his heel and walking towards the entrance of the shop.

You watch him as he reaches for the sign and flips it so the closed side is facing the street, heart dropping as you witness what he did. You were certain the man would kill you on the spot. You have heard stories from your fellow owners that the Fatui would eliminate those who could not scrounge up their part. Perhaps your time had come, way too early for your liking. “W-What are you doing?”

“Well it seems you and I have something to discuss, do we not?” He asks, walking back to where you stood. You gaze past his figure to see his subordinates outside the shop with their backs to the two of you.

“Y-Yes that is correct.” You mutter, feeling yourself tense up when a gloved hand reaches for your jaw, a finger gently stroking at your skin. You wouldn’t deny it. The man before you was extremely attractive, perhaps a bit too attractive for his own good and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a bit intimidated… and a bit turned on with how he composed himself.

“I suppose you don’t have any ideas.” He muses, leaning down to where his mouth grazes the tip of your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “I think we could come to an… agreement. Are you willing to hear me out?”

-ˋˏ༻✿༺ˎˊ-

Your moans are muffled, drowned out as his lips devour yours in a heated exchange. His lips move as if he has done this before, and by his looks, you guess he has. He presses up against you more against the wall of the dressing room, his hand hitching your skirt up just enough to give him better access. He groans against your lips when his fingers graze against your slicked panties, hooking his index to push it to the side.

He pulls away from you, panting as a string of saliva connects you two as a reminder of your actions. The Harbinger immediately buries his face in the crook of your neck, spreading cascading kisses from the area under your ear, to your collarbone all the while his finger rubs small, yer pressured circles on your clit.

Your hands grip onto the sleeves of his shirt, tilting your head to the side to allow him better access as you let out quiet whimpers, to which he hums against you as if saying thank you.

"Say..." he whispers, mouth moving up to your ear and latches onto the outer shell, sinking his teeth into the skin. "Might I offer a deal?" he purrs, one finger cascading down your folds and barely sticking the tip of his finger inside you.

"P-Please." you whisper shakily, adjusting your stance to get more comfortable.

"Please what?"

"Please sir." You moan out when a slender finger inches its way inside. As if automatic, your legs open more, either for your own comfort to stabilize yourself, or to allow him closer to you.

"Aren't you a good girl." He coos, leaning away from you to gaze at your reaction when his finger pumps in and out at a pace way too slow for your liking. Pantalone dragged his finger, curling against the gummy spot inside your cunt that causes your toes to curl.

"Perhaps if I came... let's say one." he starts, fastening his pace and enjoying the quiet whines and hip wiggling his actions produced from you. "Or maybe..." his finger draws out, the tip of his finger circling your hole. "Two." two fingers find their way inside you again, your mouth parting open as your head tilts against the wall.

"fuck." you hiss, your muscles squeezing against him. at this point you feel so full. you were not inexperienced when it came to sex. You've had your fair share of intimate partners, but having the fingers of the Ninth Harbinger inside you felt way different.

It's as if he knew your way around your body, how you would react to your touch. You were certain a man attractive as himself was also very experienced.

"Or maybe three times." he says, halting his motions as a third finger manages to wiggle inside, a sick grin forming on his face when you cry out, back arching from the wall. pants and whines escape your lips as you babble on how much everything felt. However, he doesn't move his fingers, instead he keeps them in place as if waiting for you to accommodate, or more so wanting you to agree to his deal before continuing.

"Allow me to visit you three times and I use you to my heart's content and I will deduct percentages you owe me per visit. Do we have a deal?" his voice drops into a whisper, his lips brushed up against yours. You stare at him through hooded eyelids, your eyes swirling with immense pleasure and tears begin to swell. "Or should I take your silence as denial?"

"N-No sir." you sob, your body shaking against him as his fingers relentlessly pound into your pussy, stretching you out and hitting your cervix with great force that your breath catches in your throat. “I accept!”

The older man chuckles and nods approvingly. “Very good. I think you deserve a little reward then? Let you finish all over my fingers? A man you barely met? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You’re too far gone to even give an appropriate answer but the way your hips inched forward to meet in time with his fingers was more than enough. Your chest heaves as you gasp for you, your fingers tightening their grip on his clothes as the pressure in your lower stomach begins to build up. A whimper and quick nods is all you can muster to him.

All of a sudden that ache is gone when he pulls his fingers out, eliciting a whine in protest and a sharp look from you that drags a laugh from him.

“Seems that time has gotten away from me.” He sighs in a faux attempt of sadness. “I have other matters to attend to. Do fix yourself up, no customers want to see the store owner in a state of imperfection, hm?” He admires his slick covered fingers before grabbing onto your chin, forcing your lips to graze his, your nose bumping into his own.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Zandik

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When his desires began to grow more, his actions also began to become more perverted. He would press his bulge up against you from behind when trying to reach for something on a higher shelf. Sometimes his hips would grind into the curve of your ass and love the small gasp you’d produce. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy his little antics.

Omega seemed to have no shame at all. Unlike 18 and 25, he would jerk off to you while you were sleeping. His hand would pump over the tip of his cock, using his pre-cum as lube to fasten his motions. You usually slept in no shorts, much to his approval. He’d stare between your legs intently, wondering how warm you must’ve felt, how tight you were, how much your pussy could take. All these thoughts and those wandering eyes of his helped push him over the edge and he’d finish on your blanket (he would’ve rather it been your face). In the morning you were curious about a specific stain on your blue blanket, but thought nothing much of it.

When given permission from Zandik (finally), he was quite overjoyed but never showed it and you would never admit it as well.

In the prime stage of his life, everything to Omega felt as if he was on a continuous hunt for a new hypothesis in hopes to gather more data for a new conclusion that was far better than the first. So naturally, he takes this as an opportunity to see how much you could take.

He takes you to a room with a huge mirror in front of the bed. The thought of getting fucked in front of a mirror by one of your beloved’s segments was enough for a small wet spot to appear in your panties.

35 has you on the bed, completely nude with him behind you with your legs spread open. This position causes embarrassment to wash over you, but the way his hand rubs your clit in small circles is enough to forget about your emotional predicament.

He continues to play with you, cooing in your ear about how you’re aiding him so much in his study. He praises you for being his good little subject while three of his fingers are pumping in and out of your aching cunt, but you can’t answer. All you can muster is moans of his names and the occasional whimper and “feels so good..” orgasm after orgasm is drawn out from your tired body and even the smallest flicks of your clit has you wailing to him. Oh you looked so pretty in the mirror he can’t help but grin and imagine how fucked out you’d be on his cock.

He may be selfish and care about his own pleasure, but he was more obsessed with your pleasure and wanting to draw out as much as possible. He takes you from behind, holding your wrists behind your back with one hand and uses you as leverage to fuck himself deeper into you. From this position, he’s able to abuse that spot. Each rut of his hips causes your breast to bounce and he loves it. His other hand rubs fast and sloppy circles on your clit and that’s enough to make you cum for the nth time. If you weren’t focused on the mirror, he’d grab your chin and force you to stare, a mask staring at your reflection. Even if you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew they were washed with lust, maybe more than yours.

He may be the most selfish and care about his pleasure only, but he definitely cares about your own (in the name of science of course).

45

This segment was on the opposite end of the spectrum when it came to selfishness, which you came to the conclusion that age was a factor in this.

45 is more of a charmer. He’s way more talkative (in a nice way) and is able to hold simple conversations with you. The one thing you love about him is how attentive he is to you. Sometimes if you were in lab with all the segments and you tried voicing something, the segments were too busy arguing with one another to listen, but he would always give you his undivided attention.

If you weren’t in lab, he would greet you with a kiss to your hand. Not often, but it was a sweet gesture on his end. Unlike the younger segments, he never made physical advancements on you, he would however continue to make flirty or… inappropriate comments.

He always gave you compliments. He complimented if you did something new with your hair, or your outfits (which was usually standard lab safety outfits) or whatever stood out to him. However, his favorite thing to compliment was your intelligence. In his eyes, nothing was more outstanding than a beautiful woman who was highly intelligent. And that was dangerous.

When it’s 45’s turn, he’s sure to let you know how overjoyed he was. You knew he was not one for physical advancements, but he surely becomes touchy now. His hands roam all over your body when he has you in his bed. He squeezes at your breasts and swallows your moans when kissing you, moving his hands down the rest of your body to your ass before giving a firm spank.

He has you on your knees, a gloved hand tangled in your hair and moving your head to meet in time with his thrusts. Strings of curses and praises leave his mouth and his words cause your thighs to rub together in anticipation. “Someone so beautiful and intelligent on her knees to suck someone’s cock, you love that, don’t you?” The tip of his head hits the back of your throat and with a whimper, he holds your head with both hands on the side of your face and holds you in place, finishing with a loud groan and head tilted back.

He doesn’t neglect you at all, which was one of his best qualities. His face is deep in between your legs, his nose nuzzled against your clit as he breathes in your scent, moaning about how good you smell. His tongue does wonders from sliding in between your folds, to barely putting the tip in your cunt before moving up to your clit. His motions aren’t rushed like 18, but planned and executed with purpose.

When he was satisfied with how you looked, he helps you get on top of him. Strong arms are wrapped around your back as your breasts are pressed up against his chest, your head falling into the crook of his neck. He thrusts up into you, the head of his cock bumping into your cervix. It’s so much, too good, it doesn’t help the fact he’s whispering in your ear and blowing hot air.

His thrusts are so rough, his balls slap against your skin that leaves stinging sensations. This segment is obsessed with his lips on yours, and probably the only segment that kisses you while fucking. It’s not romantic in the slightest, but your mouths together form a melodic song that turns him on even more if possible.