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celuere · 13 days ago

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„You will apologize to her. Now.“

„Yes, father…“

„Making your mother worry in her current condition by taking on- stealing a mission way above your experiences. I don’t even know where to begin with your punishments in the first place.“

„Yes father…“

It was a stupid idea, really. Secretly snagging a paper off of their father‘s desk and trying to handle the task on their own. A task that had good reason to be classified as „Extremely dangerous! Do not assign any Harbinger below number five“.

But they got lucky. Besides a few bruises and a concussion, the three of them got away relatively well- thanks to their father arriving at the scene in time. Infiltrating a secret stronghold of the cartel, you could almost mistake them for suicidal.

Originally Lyney wanted to show the head of the Hearth that he truly is capable enough of taking over her position in the orphanage. To show her that he isn’t the weak boy she once took under her wing and prove himself worthy of his role as the Knave‘s successor. But Lyney failed. Failed and dragged his two siblings with him into this misery and the worst things of all- something he didn’t even take into account- is that he would burden his beloved mother with their sudden disappearance. The boy knew that Arlecchino would be beyond angered with them, yet he failed to remind himself of his father‘s counterpart and her current condition.

And Lyney never felt worse in his entire life.

The walk to your shared bedroom was a dreadful one. Each step seemed heavier than the last one as he could feel his heart pounding in his stomach. He hadn’t eaten in almost two days but the thought of the confrontation alone made him want to puke over the polished floors of their manor.

Before she opened the door to their private space, Arlecchino looked back at them over her shoulder. Crimson eyes screaming nothing but pure disappointment and something else. Something that the trio didn’t want to pinpoint. „You will not cry. You will not be hysterical. You will be quiet. The last thing your mother needs is more stress right now. Did I make myself clear?“, the sharpness which she sprinkled over her words didn’t fail to send a shiver down each of their spines. She wasn’t talking to them like a Father, but a cold-blooded diplomat right now.

„Yes, father…“, only then she slowly turned around the doorknob in her hand before pushing the wood open, the large bedroom spreading before them and revealing an exhausted figure surrounded by pillows, blankets and what not.

But no amount of layers could hide the visible baby belly sticking out underneath them.

„Children…!“, as if you were awaiting them, your arms spread open for a warm embrace, tears immediately clouding your vision at the sight of your kids still being in one piece. Being just one week away from giving birth was heavier on the nerves than one might think and the sudden disappearance of the three idiots got you so worked up it knocked you out twice. Two times where Arlecchino had to watch her wife grow sick with worry while heavily pregnant. It almost took her out herself if we are being honest.

The first one to break the „no-crying“ rule was Freminet. The blonde young man wordlessly hugging you with his whole heart, apologizing for his wrongdoings and worst of all: Making his poor Mother worry. The only reason Arlecchino didn’t intervene in his outburst of emotions was because of the shake of your head, gesturing her to tend to her own problems and letting you handle the situation.

Her discipline isn‘t needed right now.

„Oh, archons above you had me so worried…“, after some hesitation, Lynette added herself into your arms- careful not to put pressure on the bump as a few silent tears prickled up in the corners of her eyes at your display of worry and relief. Your gentle hand ran through their messy hair strands, letting your nails scratch over the scalp every now and then as whispers of how worried they had you and how happy you were that they came back safely fell into their ears.

But one person was still missing in your embrace.

„Lyney…?“

His only answer was a mere shake of his head as he strictly stared down at the floor. The hat he usually wore so proudly clasped in his hand as he did everything in his power to avoid eye contact. The sight of your child so incredibly beaten down and angry with himself did nothing but contribute to the heavy blanket on your heart.

„…Would you mind leaving me alone with your brother for now…?“

The room grew silent after Arlecchino shut the door behind her. She wasn‘t allowed to be a part of this conversation. You took a whiff of the fresh camomile tea in your hands before taking a cautious sip, testing out the temperature. It was still a little too hot on the tongue.

„Lyney-”

„I don‘t deserve it. Your forgiveness.“, his voice was shaking. Just like his shoulders. The words coming out trembling as he still refuses to lift his head. „That… may be true… you mingled with your Father‘s affairs, you put yourself in immense danger, you dragged your siblings with you into this mess and you had me worried for three of my children’s lives for the duration of three whole days.“

„-and all while you’re pregnant I’m-”

„I do not define myself through my pregnancy. I am not ill, I’m merely heavily pregnant for just another week. Don‘t let your father‘s protectiveness cloud your judgement on me. Yes, my state is reason enough to worry but I’m fine, the baby is fine. My pregnancy is not an important factor in this conversation here.“, he admired you for that. For always standing your ground no matter against who or when. You truly are the Knave‘s wife and people have reasons enough to avoid you for that fact alone. Yet, he couldn’t stop it when the first tears started to fall.

„Come here, my child… And I don’t want any more excuses now.“, you sounded so gentle. So incredibly soothing. It reminded him of all the times you soothed him back to sleep after he first got taken in by your husband. He suffered terrible nightmares back then, often waking up screaming for his twin sister, cold sweat coating his scolding hot skin before he felt a cool hand wipe his forehead clean while soft words murmuring about that he‘s save here- that you wouldn’t allow them to ever feel this helpless again.

That same cool hand was now wiping the tears off of his cheeks. Handling him as if he were still a small teenager while you held your own emotions back what felt like a heavy blanket covering your chest.

„There, there… but keep in mind that what you did was still wrong and your father has every right to take appropriate measures for that. Goodness… do you have any idea how worried you had her…? Right down terrified…“, your words hit him deeper than any blade ever could. His father was worried for them. For their safety.

You could only notice the sobbing getting heavier in response.

„She knows she can’t always protect you kids. But she is trying, so hard. She is doing her best to ensure you live a halfway normal life despite our affiliations with the Fatui… Your father has buried many of her children over the years. And at no point has it ever gotten easier for her, so imagine what was going through her head when she noticed that missing paper on her desk…“, you will never forget the raw terror carved into her face in that very moment. How her hand grabbed after the edge of her desk for support. How quiet she suddenly got at the realization.

She long ago accepted the fact that she can’t always shield her children from the enemy called „Death“ but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t do everything in her power to try to prevent having to choose between gravestones and caskets again.

After all, it‘s her first time living, too.

#arle post after 79437843 years #who cheered #arlecchino x reader #x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #arlecchino #genshin arlecchino #arlecchino x female reader #arlecchino x you

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shalomniscient · 1 month ago

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frustration. || arlecchino x reader [NSFT][MDNI]

Arlecchino is, for lack of better term, sexually frustrated. The cure is conveniently close and willing—read: you, her wife—but the universe has… other plans.

cw. literally just smut. all the hallmarks of my usual smut blah blah breeding arledick etc

notes. nothing to say for myself. but like this is like 6k words

She cannot focus.

It is a novel situation for her, to be sure. Arlecchino has always been of a more straightforward, single-minded disposition. Tasks are to be completed with grace and efficiency—she has never liked dallying, or letting work build up in increments. She likes to, “lock in”, as the children say, and be at her leisure to go about her personal business for the remainder of the day. And yet, today, it is taking every last ounce of willpower in her to keep her eyes on the spread of papers on her desk—and not the low, nagging heat in her abdomen.

She considers, briefly, banging her head on her desk. But such behavior is unbecoming of a Harbinger, so she settles for leaning back in her chair and sighing, folding her hands over her stomach with enough force to turn her knuckles white in an effort to stave off the urge to let them travel lower, beneath her desk, to deal with her problem. It’s not like she couldn’t. No one comes into her office without announcing themself first, and she keeps a box of tissues on her desk at all times. She isn’t particularly loud, either; at least, not when she’s alone. The mess would be minimal, she’s certain, and she’d get some relief from this need thrumming up and down her spine, but, well…

Frankly, she doesn’t really enjoy her own hand anymore—not after several years of marriage to you. It works, sure, but she doesn’t feel that same release, that same bonelessness in her lower body when it’s with you. Sometimes it does surprise her, the carnal lust you inspire within her, but then she remembers the feel of your sweet cunt around her cock, and the way you look beneath her, spread out and beautiful, tears of pleasure clumping your lashes and mewling her name and—

She groans, feeling her pants get tighter. Not helping, she berates internally, crossing her legs. Her cock aches, almost embarrassingly so. Though, she supposes, it has indeed been a while since she was last able to indulge in you. Work has been increasing, on account of the rising number of Gnoses making their way into the Tsaritsa’s possession. All that remains is that of the Pyro Archon’s, and at this eleventh hour there is much to be done for every Fatui agent, at every level. As a Harbinger, she is no exception.

She sighs again. If only you were here, she thinks idly, thumping her head against the cushion of the chair. You’d tease her relentlessly for being so wound up, but then you’d sink down to your knees before her spread legs, tease her zipper down with your teeth and—

“Fuck.”

Fuck.

Arlecchino pinches the bridge of her nose with one dark hand and shoves her waistband down her hips with the other.

Her cock practically springs free as soon as it’s released from the confines of her slacks, the engorged, leaky tip nearly touching the underside of her desk. Her toes curl in her heels as the cool air of the room kisses the sensitive flesh, and she circles her thumb and index finger around her thick base, right over the thatch of black and white curls that lead upward in a tapering triangle to her navel. She hisses at the first shift of her hand upward, and chews the inside of her cheek as her thumb swipes at her cockhead to spread the pearly proof of her arousal up and down her stiff cock.

Her free hand covers her eyes as she lets them slip shut, and she retreats into certain filthier memories. She can picture you with near perfect clarity—half-moon eyes trained on her as she tangles a fist in your hair, and slowly rocks her wet cock against your cheek. Your tongue is stuck out utterly obscenely, further wetting her already slick length before she draws back to press the tip to your shining lips. They part obediently, and then she’s sinking into your warm, wet, mouth—and she can’t help the way her hips buck into her own fist at the memory.

She delves deeper into that recollection, and her body reacts in kind. The pace of her hand rises, the sloppy noise of her jerking herself off echoing in her office. Her tip leaks an absurd amount, one she knows you’d complain about if you ever saw. You’d complain about it then put your mouth on her until your nose brushes her happy trail and the muscles of her back tense at the thought of having you deepthroat her, of being so deep in your willing mouth that you gag on it.

“Fuck, darling,” she pants, starting to feel far too warm for all her layers. Her fist flies over her cock now, absolutely shameless, her hips starting to rise up from her chair. In her mind you’re bobbing your head up and down, up and down, hollowing your cheeks ruthlessly as your fingers toy and caress her balls. Her jaw is clenched tight enough she swears she hears it creak, and with a final, harsh stroke she tips herself off that knife’s edge, coming with a muffled snarl into her palm and shooting her cum all over the underside of her fir desk. It’s thick, viscous, and strings of it cling to her twitching dick as she comes, making an utter mess. She slides her fist up and down her softening dick to wring every last ounce of pleasure she can, but it’s not the same as having you swallow around her or—Celestia above—having your perfect, tight cunt squeeze around her as she comes.

She comes down with a sigh, releasing her slick, sensitive dick and reaching for the box of tissues. That nagging heat is… not gone, but quelled, at least for now. That restlessness is still there, a buzz in her muscles that’s irritatingly present. In the back of her oxytocin-fogged mind she feels a sense of exasperation towards herself for being unable to keep from jacking off like some hormonal teenager as she wipes clean the evidence of her indulgence from her desk, cock and slacks.

By the time she’s tucking herself back into her pants, the sun is beginning to set outside her window. She’d be clocking out soon, and that means heading home to your shared bed—which, if she’s lucky, she can hopefully put you through tonight and satiate this frankly demonic lust in her system and become a normally functioning member of society again.

She is not lucky.

You’re already asleep by the time she gets back, and she doesn’t have the heart to wake you for sex of all things. You’re worn out as is—it really is a busy season for the Fatui, and someone of your rank certainly has much on your plate. So instead, she cleans up, then slides into bed next to you, and lets the way you instinctively snuggle up against her turn that ember of need in her belly into a gentle hearth of affection in her heart.

Maybe next time, she thinks.

“Next time” ends up being a whole week and a half later. Arlecchino is truly barely clinging to her sanity. She’s antsy, snappish, and backed-up; and worst of all, her curse is acting up. There’s a soreness in her arms, a pervasive heat under her skin, like her blood is boiling. No number of ice packs or cold showers do anything to soothe the heat and uncomfortableness, and it leaves her in a much, much worse mood.

Her agents bear the brunt of her ire. Never her children, by the Crimson moon, never—but all her agents walk on thin ice around their Harbinger. She’s high and dry, not unlike the gunpowder in their rifles, and it only takes a single spark to set her off. Nowadays, anyone going into her office is seen saying a quick prayer to the Tsaritsa before entering. Not that it offers much protection, but at the very least their final act would’ve been worship of the Archon, who would hopefully embrace their ashen corpse in her cool arms once all was said and done.

Put frankly, it’s Bad, with a capital B.

And so she’s ready to snarl when the door to her office is pushed open so casually, only for it to die between her teeth when she notices who has walked in. It’s you, in your Fatui coat, the lightest dusting of snow in your hair. You offer her an apologetic smile and hang up the thick mantle next to hers on the rack, then walk over to round her desk and press a kiss to her temple.

“You okay?” you ask when you draw back, and Arlecchino has to resist the urge to chase after your touch. She doesn’t fight it when your fingers curl in her hair, and you draw her head to rest against your side.

Her fingers twitch at the question, and she sets down her quill. She shakes her head with a soft sigh, inhaling the scent of you—you smell of pine and firewood, with the hint of fresh snow’s frostiness. The dull throb in her arms reduces somewhat. “Not… entirely.”

You make a quiet noise of acknowledgement at that, carding your fingers through her hair. You find the clasp of her low hair ornament and gently pry it loose, letting her hair fall free and she lets out a muted groan of relief as some of the pressure in her skull reduces.

“Rough day?”

“A week would be a kinder estimate,” she replies, almost petulant, and you laugh gently, a low crackling like firewood in a warm hearth. She noses closer to you and nearly whines when you pull away to sit before her on the edge of her desk instead, your legs between her knees.

“Poor thing,” you coo, fingers trailing down from her hair to the collar of her suit jacket, your index finger slipping past to tease it loose. “You’re so tense, baby. Need my help?”

Your touch is already addling her brain, and she blinks slowly. “Pardon?”

“Oh, baby, it really is bad, huh?” you giggle, using your other hand to pop the buttons of your own uniform, and oh—her pants are suddenly far, far too tight. “The letters weren’t exaggerating.”

She can barely muster up the brain power to ask you what in Celestia’s name you mean by that, because fuck the sight of you undressing on her desk is sending all of her blood down south. “Letters?” she rasps hoarsely, and you smile, like a fox in tall grass.

“Mm, letters. So many agents submitted in an additional request that I do something about your, ah… situation,” you tease, letting your shirt fall off your shoulders and onto the wood below you, and you’re really, really trying to kill her because why else would you be wearing her favourite lingerie set underneath? “Lucky for them—and you—I know just the cure.”

You raise your leg, and press the heel of your foot ever so lightly against her bulge, and she makes a choked noise, tingling fingers digging into your calf. You lean back on her desk, a pure vision of lust, eyes half-lidded as you gaze down at her.

“Well, husband? Care to partake?”

She has your back flat against the desk in seconds.

You let out a startled “oof” that tapers into a moan as her lips attack your neck, pressing bruising, biting kisses into the tender skin there. Her teeth scrape your pulse and she groans at the salty tang of your skin, laving her tongue and shamelessly licking into the cleft below your jaw. She’s growling like some sort of feral beast as she fumbles with the zipper of her pants, unhelped by the way your ankles have locked around her lower back with a deceptively tight grip. It takes a firm hand on your hip, pressing you into the wood in a way that has you mewling before she can wriggle enough space to shove a hand between you both to free her straining erection.

Her tip catches on your clothed cunt the moment it’s exposed, tapping against your swollen clit over its hood and making you whine. There’s a wet patch on the delicate lace of your panties, and Arlecchino has half a mind to drop to her knees and put her mouth on you instead. But her own cock twitches almost angrily at the thought of being deprived of your pussy now that she’s got the opportunity. She uses the hand trapped between your bodies to grasp her base, and she uses her shaft to rub up and down the covered lips of your core until the fabric is sticky and translucent with your slick and her pre-cum. All the while her mouth remains busy, sucking marks and bruises into your neck, collarbones, and anywhere in between that she can reach.

“Arle,” you whine, digging your nails into her broad shoulders, “c’mon, please—”

“Begging so soon?” she grunts in return, silencing you with a nip to your earlobe. “What happened to the teasing minx you were a minute ago?”

“She’s—mnn—way too horny to entertain you right now,” you quip back, your fingers creeping higher up her spine to the nape of her neck, and scratching at the base of her skull. Tendrils of sensation, like a many-limbed spider, skitter down her back and her hips roll of their own accord, a twitch rather than a thrust. Still, it has you making more of those lovely, plaintive noises, and Arlecchino herself is far too worked up to tease you as well. “Hurry up—”

“Shh,” she soothes, the hand on your thigh grasping your chin so she can swallow your words with a kiss. Her tongue shoves into your mouth, tracing the edges of your teeth and licking against your cheek. Her other hand tugs your panties to the side as her hips bump forward, her cockhead parting your lower lips wet with slick. “Shh, darling, be patient.”

And you gasp into her mouth when she finally pushes in, your fingers winding tight in her hair and tugging. She hisses as your cunt bears down tight around her, fluttering and pulsing in time with your heartbeat. Her achy, trembling hands fly up to smack down on the desk around your head with an audible thump, her entire body shuddering at the sensations lancing up and down her body like a raging blaze. She inhales a tense, unsteady breath as she pushes in further, the wet noise of your cunt sucking her cock in nearly making her dizzy—or that might just be the latent headache from before, she isn’t sure anymore. In any case, she pushes deeper, inch by inch, splitting you open on her dick until your hips meet with an obscene noise, and she nearly topples over you, the strength in her right arm giving way until she’s forced to brace her weight on her elbow instead. She pants into your neck as she lets you adjust, muttering a string of almost incoherent praise against your skin.

Your face is hidden in her shoulder, your body arching up from the table in lust-drunk frenzy, and then you’re shifting your hips, drawing a strangled noise from deep in her throat. She wants to pin your rocking hips to the wood but her hands and forearms are already worsening in their ache, burning up from within, and so she decides to draw back and fuck forward at the same time you shift low, and it has her pressing so deep inside you that you nearly sob.

“Fuck– Arle,” you whimper, nails digging hard enough into her shoulder she’s sure she’ll have marks for the next day or two, “fuck, missed you, missed you so much— shit, you’re so good—”

Her only response is a low rumble as she starts to thrust in earnest, each slap of her hips against your thighs making her solid desk creak. You’re babbling nonsense into her shoulder, a slurry of words spilling from your bitten lips much like the way your slick is dripping out and around her cock as she fucks into you. There’s a burning behind her eyes, and her arms are starting to protest further. The dull ache is now a rhythmic pulsing, and her rhythm falters as she’s torn between the extremes of pain and pleasure. Frustration nips at the back of her head and her nails scratch the finish of her desk as she wills herself to overcome the pain.

You’re already squeezing around her, inarguably close to your orgasm, but she can’t stop the choked noise of pain from slipping past her lips. She kisses and nips at your neck and fucks you hard enough the desk slide forwards, but your years of marriage has attuned you to her like no other living person. Even through your hiccuping moans and mewls you pierce through your own need with concerned clarity, palms on either of her shoulders as you lean back against the desk to get a better look at her.

“Arle, mnn— what’s wrong?” you breathe, eyes searching her face and lips pulling into a frown when you notice the conflict in her expression. “Hey, hey— shh, what’s wrong?”

She lets out a half-bitten sigh of frustration, stilling her hips and dropping her head into the crook of your neck. Her arms are throbbing now, the muscles of her forearms feeling like they might just melt right off her bones. Your hands cradle the back of her head as you catch your breath, patting her hair.

“Is it the curse?” you ask softly, and she can only manage a wordless, defeated nod into your shoulder. You hum at that, and gently place your palms against her chest to push her back and sit yourself upright again. Her hands twitch with slight relief as the pressure of holding her upper body up fades, and they slacken further when you take them in your own, thumbs brushing over her knuckles.

“Let’s finish this another time,” you suggest quietly. “I don’t want to continue if you’re in pain.”

I can keep going, a stubborn part of her protests—probably her dick talking, to be honest—but as much as she wants to continue she knows you wouldn’t let her. She’s impressed, but also not surprised at how quickly you can shut off your own arousal, in a sense, out of nothing but concern for her. It’s… heartwarming, but also a little frustrating, when she’s pretty sure emptying her balls inside your cunt would fix at least a few of her problems. But she relents, slipping out of you with a muted noise and she lets you clean her up—because you never let her lift a finger when her curse flares up—and then yourself, before you slip your clothes back on and stand on slightly wobbly legs.

“Let’s go home,” you murmur, taking one of her aching hands in your own. “Let me take care of you.” The fire in her veins does not dissipate, but it settles ever so slightly, and she manages the smallest of smiles, reserved only for you.

“As you say, my dear.”

At home, you wash her, dress her, then lead her to bed where you hold her close against your chest. It isn’t often she allows herself to little spoon, but the background pain of the curse has worn down her walls until they’re paper-thin.

So tonight, she lets herself be held by you as your fingers dance up and down her arms, soothing in familiarity, until she slips beneath the veil of a dreamless sleep.

When Arlecchino wakes up, she realises 2 things: 1) she’s hard, again, and 2) you’re having what she thinks is a very fun dream. Through the foggy haze of sleep and the barely-there, grey wisps of early morning light, she sees—and feels—you squirming on the bed, brows drawn tight and lips parted around little mewls. Her hand on your hip feels the way your whole body is tense, the muscle beneath your soft flesh flexing as you twitch in response to whatever she’s doing to you in your dreams.

“Arle—” you whimper, thighs pressing together subconsciously, and her dick twitches in response in her sleep shorts. She buries her face in the crook of your neck with a rumbling groan, her hands—now mercifully painless—squeezing around the meat of your hips. Her fingers tease the waistband of your panties, and you shiver.

“I’m here, sweet thing,” she murmurs, lips kissing a trail up to your ear. “Open those pretty eyes for me, hm?”

It takes you a while before your eyes finally flutter open, and a little longer before you distinguish the boundary between dream and reality. When you do, your arms come to wrap around her back, like they’ve always meant to be there, and she presses the shape of a kiss into your neck.

“Good morning,” she purrs, drawing back to brace herself above you on her elbows. She takes in that half-dazed, half-aroused expression of yours with a greed that would put some of her colleagues to shame, feeling her blood smoulder in her veins not with pain but with pure, unadulterated lust. “Good dream?”

It takes you a beat to process her words, but you nod, almost shyly. “Yeah. Very… good.”

She leans down and presses her forehead to yours, teasing your lips with her own and making you whine. “And what exactly did you dream about, darling?”

“You,” you answer without hesitation, your eyes meeting hers with nothing but adoration. She smirks at that, kissing the corner of your lips, and then your cheek, then your brow, all over your face. You breathe a soft laugh at the ticklish sensation, and butterflies stir the heat in her gut.

“Oh? And what was I doing, pray tell?”

You smile. “Lots of things.”

“Well, do elaborate.”

You roll your eyes, and before she can react, one sneaky hand of yours has snaked down between both your bodies to cup her bulge through her sleep shorts, and she makes a half-bitten noise of surprise and arousal at the touch. You grasp her through the fabric, your thumb lazily rubbing her tip until a wet spot of her pre-cum forms. Your other hand cups her nape, tugging her close enough to breathe your next words right into her mouth.

“I think,” you begin, and Arlecchino swears her dick gets somehow harder at the low sultriness of your voice, “we should cut to the chase and finish where we left off yesterday.”

“That so?” she manages to rasp, and you nod, leaning up to kiss her, biting and demanding, your teeth worrying her lower lip in a way that’s making her feel deliriously horny.

“Mm,” you hum, and your hand on her dick squeezes just a little tighter. “C’mon, baby, ‘m already so wet, just fuck me, please? Missed your cock, baby—”

It’s nothing but filth from your lips but Archons does it work. Arlecchino is pinning your wrists above your head with one hand immediately, the other shoving her sleep shorts down and kicking them off before her lips attach to your neck with an intensity that’s almost ruthless. You gasp, arching up, then moan when her free hand rubs you through your panties. Fuck—you’re drenched, just like you said you were. The cloth sticks to your lower lips, practically translucent, and perfectly outlining your lower lips almost like a second skin. Normally, she’d indulge in a little teasing, but restraint is a pipe dream for both she and you right now, so instead she tugs your panties to the side, and pushes in like she needs it to survive.

“Fuck,” she snarls, at the same time you moan her name, and maybe it’s the residual neediness from your dream but you’re coming immediately, back bending into a crescent as your cunt squeezes and flutters around her cock, your inner walls tightening around her to the point she feels dizzy, like you’re trying to cut off her damn circulation. Your hips jerk and twitch erratically as your muscles tense and relax, pleasure ripping through you. She rocks her hips slowly to coax you through the high, and it’s a wonder she doesn’t bust right then and there.

That is, unfortunately, where Arlecchino’s restraint ends. Because as you come down, she only increases her pace, free hand holding your hip down and in place as she starts fucking you, bullying her thick cock into your eager, greedy cunt with each drive. The headboard smacks against the wall with each thrust, echoed in time by your loud, shameless cries. “That’s it,” she growls, lips descending onto your breast through your nightdress, “that’s it, darling. Take my cock like the good girl you are.”

Arlecchino can see the whites of your eyes with how far back they’ve rolled into your skull, your lashes kissing your cheek with each flutter. Each movement is accompanied by an obscenely wet, squelching noise as she stirs up your insides and rearranges your guts. Arlecchino glances down and exhales roughly when she sees the bulge she forms inside you, rising and retreating with every snap of her hips. Her balls draw up tight, and she’s so, so close.

“I’m going to cum, sweet thing,” she grunts, nipping at your jaw. “Going to fill this perfect cunt with my seed, hm?”

The noise you let out at her words is wanton and needy, your fingers clenching in her grasp, digging into your palms. “Yes, yes, Arle— please, I want it, I need it,” you beg, writhing beneath her, “please, baby, need it so bad— I love you, I missed you, please—”

She kisses you to shut you up, releasing your wrists to claw both her hands into your waist. Your hands immediately claw at her back, nails drawing red lines into her skin. Her breathing comes in tense, ragged pants, one hand moving down to grip your thigh and push your knee to your chest, opening you up further for her pistoning cock in a way that makes you howl. Your cunt ripples, pulses and clenches, molding to every ridge and vein of her dick until it all comes to a brilliant, blazing head as she bursts off the edge, sinking her teeth into your shoulder as she hilts balls deep and—

She shoots more than a week’s worth of backed-up tension deep into your welcoming cunt, thick, hot ropes battering your tender inner walls. A low, rumbling groan emanates from her throat, past the clamp of her teeth in your shoulder as she comes and comes, filling you until it leaks around the seal of your lower lips, forming a frothy ring of white around her base.

“I love you,” she gasps, choked off and strained as she laves the bite on your shoulder with kisses and her tongue, “sweet thing, I love you so, my good, perfect girl.”

Your whimpers turn into little overstimulated sobs, your body trembling and squeezing around her. Her intense drives turn into languid thrusts as she winds down from her high, and she presses tender kisses all over your shoulder, collar and neck to coax you and herself through it. But even when you’ve caught your breath, cheeks beautifully flushed, she’s still achingly hard in you—and you seem to still want to take advantage of the fact.

“Arle,” you mewl, adorably needy and clearly not fully satiated, “again, please? Want to feel you again.”

“Greedy,” she breathes, but she draws back, pulling out with a wet squelch. You protest petulantly, and she shushes you gently as she presses your thighs together, turning your lower body onto your side. Arlecchino takes just a moment to admire the way your cunt squeezes around nothing, and some of her load dribbles out to coat your slick lower lips. Her throat dries up, and she traces a finger through the mess as if entranced. Your hole flutters in response, your hand encircling her wrist to tug her closer. She shakes her head with a soft huff, lightly smacking your ass but nonetheless shuffling forward to align her still stiff dick with your cunt before sheathing back in again.

“Still so tight, sweetheart,” she breathes, and the sensation of her cum sloshing around inside you as she moves makes her toes curl. “So good for me, hm?”

One of your hands fists in the pillow behind your head, while the other grasps her hip. “Jus’ for you,” you slur out, barely coherent, “only you, baby, ngh—“

“I know, darling,” she hums, trading her fast, ruthless thrusts from before for slow but deep drives, bullying the tip of her cock right against your sweet spot. The hand not on your ass grips your ankle to stop your leg from kicking out at the stimulation, her thumb massaging the base of your calf tenderly. “You were made just for my cock, weren’t you? This pretty pussy was made for me, takes me so well.”

You nod brainlessly on the bed, clearly beyond any more thought. You just lie there and take her cock, over and over, and a mix of affection and lust tangles in her chest. She leans down to devour your lips in a demanding kiss, chest to chest, your nipples stiff beneath your nightdress. Her eyes narrow at the fabric barrier, and she’s tugging the straps down your arms with her teeth and making you shiver as the cool air of the room meets your stiff peaks. Then her lips descend like rapture, sealing around one first to suck and nip, gently pulling, not enough to hurt but certainly enough to feel. She sucks shamelessly at your breast, only leaving one for the other once it’s thoroughly marked up. All the while she continues to fuck into you, pace not faltering even in the slightest.

“Baby—“ you gasp, feeling the coil in between your hipbones start to tighten and tense, “—baby, ‘m gonna cum, fuck—“

Arlecchino snarls, and one hand grips your shoulder, and then she’s manhandling you onto your front before you can even register what’s happening. She traps both your legs between her own and lies flat above you, nearly crushing you into the mattress as she pushes in deep. Your pussy practically convulses, and you moan almost whorishly at the new depth she’s achieving with you prone like this. Your face is half-pressed into the sheets, your noises muffled, and Arlecchino remedies that by tangling her fingers in your hair and tugging back. She takes in the drool trickling down the corner of your lips as she fucks you absolutely stupid, only the whites of your eyes visible.

“Go ahead and cum, darling,” she murmurs, “make a mess on my cock. It’s all yours.”

And you do, beautifully, sweetly, with a hoarse cry of her name. You squeeze and pulse around her dick, a rhythmic clench of your muscles around her from base to tip, like you’re trying to draw her orgasm out as well. She bites her lower lip almost hard enough to draw blood to prevent herself from doing just that—rocking slowly and shallowly as you course through the waves of your orgasm.

Once your shivering subsides, she leans down to press a gentle kiss to your shoulder—and then she’s gripping your hips with both hands and tugging them up, up, and up until you’re face down on the bed with your ass braced up on your knees. You whine at the sudden movement, only to be smothered when she curls her fingers around your nape while the other grips your hip and she starts utterly pounding into you again.

“Arle—“ you cry out, like a sob, “—wait, ‘s too much, baby—“

Her fingers press on the underside of your neck, your throat, effectively smothering your protests. Not tight enough to choke, but certainly tight enough to feel. She fucks you with the subtlety of a battering ram, all ruthless tenacity, like a woman possessed. She keeps going despite your pleas—you haven’t said the safeword yet, after all. The hand on your hip isn’t idle, occasionally smacking the globe of your ass as it shakes with each harsh thrust.

“‘Too much?’” she mocks, grinding her dick in as far as it can go, “but this sweet cunt keeps clenching around me, darling. You can take more, I know you can.”

You don’t protest with words anymore, just whiny half-sobs, and she rapidly approaches her second high. The muscles of her lower body tense and flex, her hamstrings burning slightly with exertion. All the while she murmurs quite praise barely audible over the plap-plap-plap of skin meeting skin, because for all she may be fucking you like a common whore you are still her wife, her darling beloved, and she will ensure you know as such.

She leans down and kisses all over the side of your face, the hand on your neck abandoning its harsh grip to curl lovingly over your own fisted in the sheets. She coaxes you to let go of the fabric, and then she’s slotting her warm fingers between your own, gently holding your hand even as she seemingly fucks you to oblivion. She rests her head against yours, cheek to cheek, and whispers, “I adore you, my darling, my sweet girl. Take all of me, sweetheart, take it all.”

She buries herself as deep as she can go when she comes, her cum undoubtedly spilling right at your cervix. She entertains the idea that it’s making its way into your womb, that she’s breeding you, and she hisses softly as another jet of cum spurts from her tip into your tender cunt. She feels her balls twitch as they empty into you, pumping you full for the second time this morning. More of your slick and her cum drips from you, down your thighs and onto the sheets which most certainly have to be changed later.

When she finally pulls out, she feels boneless, like she could flop over and sleep another eight hours. But first, she gently guides you back onto your back, her hand cupping your cheek to focus your glassy gaze on her.

“Look at me, darling,” she whispers, thumb caressing your cheek. “Are you alright?”

It takes you a minute, but then you’re turning your face into her palm to kiss the heel of her hand and nodding. “Yeah,” you answer, voice shot, and a tiny flutter of pride swells in her gut. Your eyes flick down her body, widening a fraction, before a disbelieving laugh slips from your lips.

“You’re still hard?”

Arlecchino huffs. “I did tell you it has been a long week.”

She’s not fully hard, more so semi-hard—one more round would have her soft for certain. Although, she can’t quite bring herself to ask for one more round, with the way you’re so thoroughly fucked out. You seem to notice her turmoil, as always, and reach down to grasp her semi-hard dick, pumping it slowly. She shudders, hands digging into the meat of your thighs. “Darling…��

“Come closer,” you order, and she does, and you both groan when her dick slides over your pussy, tip catching on your clit. She glances at you quizzically—and then you’re flattening your hand over your lower lips, creating an almost makeshift passage for her to fuck. She swallows thickly, desire reigniting in her gut, and she does exactly that.

She moves slowly, languidly, eyes locked in yours as her dick slides back and forth over your messy cunt. Her length is covered in her own load and your slick, making the slide easy. She makes an effort to bump your clit with each movement, relishing in the way you sigh with pleasure. Something warm blooms in her chest, beneath her sternum, and it draws her to you like a magnet, compelling her to lean down and capture your lips in a soft kiss. Your free hand cups her jaw as you return it with equal fondness.

“I love you,” she breathes into your mouth, and you smile against her lips.

“I love you too,” you answer, caressing your thumb over her cheekbone, before mewling softly, eyes slipping shut. “Arle, mm… gonna cum, baby.”

“Me too, darling,” she groans as her thrusts get a little jerkier. She’s not long, now. She makes a choked noise when your fingers grasp her gently, your thumb alternating between rubbing the sensitive underside of her frenulum and her leaky tip, and then she’s toppling off the edge with you in tow. “Fuck—“

She lets out an uncharacteristically high-pitched cry as she comes, spilling her cum onto the plane of your belly. She’s only distantly aware of you finding your peak as well, thighs twitching as you come from stimulation on your clit alone. She collapses on top of you, shuddering and shaking, her face tucked in the juncture of your shoulder and neck, as she keeps painting your belly with ropes of cum until she’s finally drained dry and soft.

The sun is warm on her skin when she finally comes to again, your hands tracing up and down her back just making her go even more boneless against you. This is what she’s been needing—this full and complete release, where despite how she can’t seem to move a muscle she feels as light as a feather.

“Thank you,” she rasps against your neck, and you chuckle.

“For what?”

“For this,” she answers easily, kissing your shoulder. “And for being with me.”

Your arms loop around her broad back, and she sinks further into the sanctuary of your embrace. You’re warm, like a perfect hearth on a cold day.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, with anyone else.”

The sentiment pulls a rare, genuine smile from her, that she hides against your skin like a playful secret reserved only for you and no one else—not the Fatui, or the House, or even the gods. Just you, and only you, the way it’s meant to be, and always will be.

“And I, you—forever and always, my love.”

She made this vow once at the altar, and she will continue to make it every day until she last draws breath—for it is the one thing she knows to be true in this world, beyond fate and even beyond death: that she loves you, and you love her, and that is all she needs.

#sev.writes #[nsft]#arlecchino x reader #arlecchino smut #no one asked but. this is how estelle’s conception goes JAJDHXNSSNCN #ok bye going to shower and then *cries* do statistixs #cant even spell it right but idc atp shcjdmkd #bon apetitty arle nation

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angelic--kitty · 2 months ago

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Arle dirty making out- almost dryfucking wife!reader in a dark hallway while almost half of the organization is looking for her ngh SHE GOT MORE IMPORTANT STUFF ON HER HANDS (her wife’s ass for example)

hiiii alba (twirling my hair and giggling)

yeah.... im down with this

semi-public with dom!arlecchino

warnings: nsfw (mdni), wlw content, dom!arlecchino x sub!fem reader, semi-public, making out, thigh grinding (does this count as clothed sex?? lmao). you call her peruere (shhhhh). mentions of murder in thought (not perrie or reader; she loves you!!!!)

zapolyarny palace; a cold and rather silent home to the tsarita, though it feels rather warm from where you're nestled into arlecchino's coat.

"peruere- this is-" you gasp softly, feeling her wrap her fluffy coat further around your body, concealing you against her in the dark, cold hallway of the palace.

"hush now, unless you would like us to get caught and cut this short?" she asks, eyes slightly narrowed as she brushes her knuckles against your cheek.

she watches your eyes dart to the side as you bite the inside of your cheek. you knew she had a meeting to attend, one she was late for in favor of pleasing you.

you knew the meeting attendees were surely sending people to look for your wife, and yet...

you only wanted her for yourself, at least in this moment. and she can see it in your eyes, the slight movements letting her know you made up your mind.

"kiss me." you order her, letting her lips capture yours, her hand gripping your jaw. it starts slow, tender, turning into something more feral as your back presses against the wall.

you're shielded from the cold by the fluffy lining of her coat, but not from how her other hand pierces the flesh of your hip with her nails.

her thigh slides up between yours as her tongue slides into your mouth. she explores and devours you, leaving you to quietly moan into her mouth as her tongue laves over yours.

she allows your hips to gently rut over her thigh before she grows bored of your languid movements.

her hands roughly grab your hips, grinding you in a faster motion, enough that you could feel it through the thicker material of your pants.

you break away from the kiss first, desperate for air as you hear people calling for her in the distance, looking for the knave.

"fuck, please- don't stop-" you whimper, head falling to rest against hers as she stares at you, etching your image into her memory.

she doesn't care that they're looking for the knave. you need peruere right now, and so she shall deliver.

she trails hot kisses down the side of your neck, pleased at how you crane your neck to give her better access. peruere feels your own hips finally catching up to the pace she set, clearly nearing the edge from the friction of fabric and toned muscle.

"that's it," she mumbles against your skin. "you're perfect."

your whimpers grow a little louder, and she recaptures your lips, ensuring to drink up every little sound you make when you cum for her. as much as she loves the thrill you get from almost getting caught, she would never let it happen.

after all, if anyone had seen you in that state, they wouldn't be allowed to leave. and she'd have to clean up that mess. too bothersome when she's busy taking care of her wife, really.

"good girl." she praises you softly, feeling your hips slowly come to a halt as you nuzzle into her, giving her cheek a few kisses of your own.

"you should...get to that meeting before they send the entire army to find you." comes your cheeky little voice as she grunts.

"very well."

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hrtnovas · 4 months ago

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NEW WLW BLOGG!! Now Imma help christen it by giving your 1st request!😂 You can definitely see from my profile pic that I am a huge Arlecchino simp.

Let's go with a childhood fem!reader who stayed with Arlecchino throughout her child to teen to adult years where Arlecchino becomes the 4th Harbinger after 'removing' Crucabena from play. Maybe they both developed feelings along the way? Or Arlecchino pines after reader but reader is very VERY oblivious despite the obvious sign from Arlecchino? Make this a smut!

🇧🇴🇺🇳🇩 🇧🇾 🇫🇦🇹🇪

⚠️`

FIRST REQUEST?? THIS IS A 10/10 YOU COOKED WITH THIS.

also my first fic

the nsfw part is separated from the sfw part because I gen feel like it's easier for me this way ୨ৎ

cw ; NSFW, men & mdni, dom!arlecchino x shy oblivious sub childhood!reader, rushed sesbian sex, fingering, but so much fluff, slight angst???, friends to lovers, reader is kind of shy and a little bit clueless . .

word count ; 1,834 words ♡

ʚɞ

both dividers by @cafekitsune . . ୨ৎ

(you two are young teens in this scene.)

Arlecchino.

The two of you grew up together, went through everything together.

You saw her white hair and faded black streaks in the moonlight. She looked up at the moon restless in thought. She stared and stared, as if something would happen, there were flowers in her hand. She was lost in her thoughts, wondering about so much.

"There's something about her… something I can't look away from." She wasn’t sure what it was about you. Arlecchino thought, her eyes shifting quickly towards you. For just a moment, her gaze softened before she looked away. She wasn’t sure what it was about you. The way you offered a piece of cake when you two were together. Or maybe it was the times you both tried so hard to hide behind calm eyes and a resting expressions. She thought to herself, looking briefly at you. You were beside her, holding a flower of your own, completely unaware of the way her gaze softened for just a moment. You were also getting quite lost in your thoughts. You were pretty much zoned out.

Arlecchino's fingers brushed against the petals of the flowers in her hand. She didn’t make eye contact, but her voice cut through the silence like a blade. "You’re staring." Her voice was low, calm, but it carried a feeling that made your heart jump. She turned her head around to face you properly.

You snapped out of your thoughts. You didn't realize you were staring at her. "I didn’t mean to.." you stammered, clutching the flower tighter in your hand. You moved closer, unsure if you were about to apologize again or say nothing.

"D-don’t you think the moon looks beautiful tonight?" you blurted, your voice stuttered out. The words felt a bit rushed, a attempt to change the conversation anywhere but to look her gaze. Your eyes shifted to the vase by the window, hoping she wouldn’t notice the way your fingers tightened around the flower.

Arlecchino’s lips curled into a faint smile, her sharp eyes shining under the moonlight. "The moon?" she echoed, her tone unreadable. "You’ve been staring at me, and now you’re talking about the moon?"

Her fingers grazed the petals again, slower this time, as if lost in thought once again. Finally, her gaze shifted to the flowers in your hand. "You handpicked these yourself, didn’t you?" she asked, her voice quiet.

You glanced down at the flower, your grip tightening as a nervous laugh escaped you. "Y-yeah.. . I thought they looked nice." Her attention on the flowers made your face red, as if she could see right through you.

Her hand moved with purpose, brushing against yours as she plucked one of your flowers from your grasp. She moved closer to you.

"Stay still." she whispered. Her fingers brushed over your head as she swept a strand of hair out of your face, her touch was both gentle and firm. You held your breath ; unsure of what to do as she leaned in closer, the flower in her hand brushing against your skin.

She slid it into your hair with quick care, her hands grazing your cheek as she did so. The contact sent a small shiver down your spine, and your cheeks burned under her gaze.

"There." she said softly, though her voice was stoic, you could tell she was trying to be meaningful. And that made your heart race. Her lips curled into a faint smile as she moved back.

You fumbled for words, your voice barely above a whisper. “I.. thank you.” Your eyes darted away, too nervous to meet her gaze for long. But you could feel her watching you, her eyes lingering like a shadow under the moonlight.

And though, Arlecchino was now a figure of authority, her blank and stoic nature still a mask that still only few could see past. As time went on, you began to notice how she watched you, how her gaze lingered a little too long, the faint, almost unnoticeable smile that tugged at her lips when she caught you looking.

Yet, despite it all, you were oblivious.

To you, it was still the same Arlecchino, your childhood (best) friend, nothing more. You couldn't see the way she’d lean closer than necessary when speaking, the way her fingers brushed against yours with purpose or how her voice when she spoke to you, had softened, that made your heart beat as fast as ever.

You didn’t understand. You had no idea how close Arlecchino was to snapping, how close she was to revealing everything she’d kept hidden for years. She was. . patient, though. Waiting for you to see it, to understand the signs she was sending. But no matter how many times she leaned a little closer, brushed her fingers against yours, or let her gaze stare in a way that was anything but casual, you remained so damn oblivious.

She watched you laugh it off, the energy radiating from you as if the moment hadn’t never even shifted. Maybe it was because you didn’t know how to read her or maybe you didn’t want to.

After all, why would someone like Arlecchino be interested in someone like you?

It was the way you avoided her gaze this time that finally broke her patience. You could feel it, that heavy, unfeeling, presence she carried, the kind that lingered even when she wasn’t looking directly at you.

Tonight, though, it felt different, impossible to ignore. You shifted in your seat, fingers fidgeting with your coffee in your lap and looking at your papers as your eyes darted anywhere but toward her.

You always did this, pulled away the moment things started to feel too intimate, too feeling, too real.

When her words carried more weight or were more gentle than usual, or her actions felt. . careful in a way you couldn’t quite ignore, you would shy away, brushing it off as nothing. It was easier to pretend it didn’t mean anything.

But tonight, Arlecchino wasn’t going to let you slip away.

The scrape of her chair against the floor made your heart race. Your head snapped up, eyes meeting hers as she stood, her figure shadowed by the light. Each step she took toward you was slow and proper. Her stilettos clicked softly against the floor.

You couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Couldn't speak.

She stopped just in front of you, her presence overwhelming as she leaned down slightly, close enough that you could see the faint shadows under her eyes, the way her lips pressed together in quiet wanting. Then her hand lifted, hand holding your chin, lifting your face upward.

"Look at me." she said softly.

Her voice was quiet but firm, leaving no room for argument. You froze, glancing away, but her grip was steady, not forceful, just firm. You had no choice but to meet her gaze.

And in her eyes, you saw something that made your breath hitch.

It wasn’t the cold expression she wore around others, or the confidence you had come to expect. This was different. Her expression was. . gentle, soft in a way you’d never seen before, and the weight of it was almost too much to bear for your heart.

"I’ve waited long enough." she said, her tone low, but you could hear the frustration beneath it. And god, was it hot. "You’re not blind, ma chérie. my love You know what I want."

Your heart pounded against your chest, your mind scrambling for something to say, but no words came. All you could do was sit there, wide eyed and trembling, your face becoming flushed.

Her fingers brushed gently along your hair. For a moment, her features softened, the blankness in her gaze melting into something warmer. "I’ve.. been waiting for you to see me." she said, her voice quieter now, but no less insistent. "Tell me you feel it too."

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Your thoughts were a blur, tangled with emotions you hadn’t let yourself come to until now.

And then she leaned in.

It wasn’t rushed her movements were hesitated, giving you just enough time to stop her if you wanted to.

But you didn’t.

Her lips brushed against yours, soft and uncertain. When you didn’t pull away, her hesitation faded. The kiss deepened, careful but filled with everything she’d been holding back. One of her hands slid to you waist, holding you, while the world around you seemed to fade into the background.

Your cheeks burned, your breath caught in your throat, and your chest felt like it might burst. You could hear the frantic rhythm of your own heartbeat, and you were sure she could feel it too.

And for the first time, you realized ; maybe you hadn’t been as oblivious as you pretended to be.

nsfw utc

Arlecchino pulled back just enough to look at you, her eyes dark, gazing into your own. "Are you sure you want us to do this?" she asked you, consent is key. She held onto your waist firmly.

You nodded, your words caught in your throat, but your actions spoke louder than anything you could say.

"I want to hear you say it. Say you want this, ma lumière." my light

You hesitated at first but, you knew you wanted this. You knew you wanted her.

"Arle.. I, I want you."

You could feel her fingers sliding inside you, you were so tight, so tense. You felt a bit nervous and were holding onto her just as she was holding onto you.

"Relax yourself. . your so tense." She mumbled. She had you on her waist, one of her hands gripping your waist tight and firm as if you were going to run away from her, her breath touching your neck, leaving love bites all over, her fingers soaked from how wet you were. Her fingers were pumping in and out of you, making you squirm and moan , it made you feel so damn filled up with every time they went inside of you.

"S-so m-much... -" "You can take it, it's alright, relax." She said, you were squeezing around her, begging to be fucked into. And the way she was fucking you? You loved it. The way your arms were wrapped around her neck, your lips releasing sweet noises, and the way Arlecchino was stretching your pussy open with her fingers.

"Are you enjoying yourself? Feeling good..?" She said, feeling your tight walls clench her fingers, you couldn't focus on anything else, just the fact she was making you feel so good.

"O-oh Arle.. mm- I'm going to . .- ! " "That's it dove. Let yourself go for me, go on."

"You're staring, dove. Something on my face..?" She asked you, you were panting for air, trying to calm down from your high.

"I love you."

"I love you more."

ugh i need this woman

#i love her #soft arle i need #arlechinno x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x female reader #genshin impact #arlecchino #x reader #fanfic #lesbian #sapphic #hrtsnovas

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harbingersglory · 1 year ago

Text

{☆} characters arlecchino {☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader, transfem arlecchino {☆} warnings 18+ content, breeding kink, degradation, stomach bulge, dacryphilia, restraints

"Arle, hah..please. I can't– I can't wait any longer."

The pleading, almost pouty, words had her letting out a deep, husky chuckle as she fiddled with the buckle of her belt, admiring your body as she stepped up to the bed. Her knee sank into the mattress as she knelt down, pressing a placating kiss to your brow and gesturing for you to turn over.

"Come on, dove. Be a good girl, or I'll treat you like the whore you are." Arlecchino clicked her tongue, firmly grabbing your hands and tightening her belt around your wrists, giving the leather a firm tug to test its strength– and to make sure it wasn't too tight. "I'm in a good mood. Don't spoil it by being a brat, little dove."

The pout it drew from you made her grin, canines flashing beneath her lips as she settled in behind you, cupping your ass in her calloused hands with an appreciative grumble. Your panties were already sticking to your cunt, the fabric soaked. She couldn't help but drag one of her digits across the fabric, teasing your folds beneath it.

"Lucky I adore that pretty mouth of yours or I'd have cut out your tongue," She gruffly spoke, her tone neither in jest or too serious– perhaps she would, maybe she wouldn't. She liked to keep you on your toes. "Hm. Maybe I'll use your throat after– shut you up properly. You look so pretty gagging on my cock, you know?"

Arlecchino slid her fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, tugging them down just enough to see your slick cunt, her fingers pulling the folds apart. Fuck, she could feel her cock throbbing against her boxers at the sight– she'd never get tired of it, just like she'd never get tired of using you like a toy.

"But in the meantime.." She finally pulled down her own boxers, her aching cock slipping free and slapping against your thigh– she slid right between your thighs, forcing you to squeeze them together around her. "Fuck, that's it." She growled, pumping her hips a few times before she was satisfied, lining up her cock with your entrance.

She had the decency, at least, to sink in slowly at first..let you adjust to her size for a brief moment before she snapped her hips forward and sank fully into your cunt with a sharp hiss.

Arlecchino typically enjoyed teasing you first, making you practically beg just for her to give you her cock at all, but she had other plans tonight– she wasn't going to waste time playing around this time. Her hand slipped down to your stomach pressed against the mattress, a low chuckle building in her chest at the distinct bulge her cock left. It was a wonder she fit at all– but she'd make it fit even if she hadn't.

"Be a good girl now and don't complain." She grumbled, leaning down to press you down into the mattress with her body, nipping at your ear before she pulled her hips back, hissing at the way you clenched around her in response. She took a moment to sit there, letting you ruminate and squirm at the lack of movement– only to grab a fistful of hair and start pounding you into the mattress before you can even think to whine about her lack of movement.

How quickly, how easily, you turn into a blubbering mess as she uses you like a toy for her own enjoyment. Not that you won't enjoy what she has in plan for you– just maybe not as much as she does. The mental image of filling you with her cum..it drives her thrusts harder, faster. She wants to fuck you stupid with her cock, fill you to the breaking point until her cum pools on the sheets, unable to be fully plugged up. Just the idea of watching her cum dripping down your thighs makes her control slip just the slightest bit.

She's already big enough to bulge your stomach with every thrust, but she wonders if she can push it further.

She certainly wants to, and she intends to.

The fat tears rolling down your cheeks only got her more excited, her hands gripping your hips so tight she can already imagine the bruises in the shape of her fingers against your skin.

"That's it, dove, give in," Arlecchino hissed, a low growl rumbling in her chest as she continued to pound into them relentlessly, her thighs already stinging from the sheer force of it. "Fucking take it, you whore."

Her muscles flexed in faint restraint, the shifting of your arms against her as you nearly screamed at the intense rush of pleasure making her sink her teeth into your shoulder in warning– a futile effort, really, as your body twitched when you came so hard she briefly considered if she had to stop..but you were still moaning even through the tears rolling down your cheeks, rocking back into her thrusts weakly, unable to keep up.

She wasn't too far behind, either. Her teeth dug deeper into your skin, muffling the growl as she plunged into your soaking wet cunt, bucking into you in much shorter thrusts until she finally felt her cum spilling into you. It was almost enough to send her over the edge again– fuck, you were practically sucking her in with how tight you were, squeezing around her cock.

Her head slumped against your shoulder as she pulled her teeth from your skin, taking a moment of respite to catch her breath and let the sting and ache settle in deep– she welcomed it, if anything. But she wasn't done.

She was going to fuck you till you were full– fill you up until she couldn't fit another drop.

For now..she pulled out, admiring the way her cum dribbled out of you. She didn't mind all that much..she was going to replace it tenfold, anyway.

She couldn't wait to plug you up and see you squirm during the meeting tomorrow, full of her cum and unable to find relief– maybe she'd make it a toy, see how long you last before someone realizes what's going on. She was going to enjoy it thoroughly.

#genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin x reader #minors dni #writing tag #arlecchino smut #arlecchino x reader #so. um. yeah. we r not gonna talk abt this one I was feeling indulgant and shdhdgsjsjsjsj #arlecchino awakens smth in me idk dont ask me #i considered making this tmasc arle for a hot minute but ill save that for another day #anyway manspreading arle agenda thsnks 4 coming 2 my tedtalk #anyway² slamming hands on table arle breeding kink arle breeding kink arle breeding kink #technically no actual direct mention of breeding but shes still trying anyway #sorry im in an arle phade i need her to do unspeakable things to me yknow. you get me.#PHASE not phade its 3 am and i csbt sleep twirls hair #accidentally posted this draft premature im AHHHHHHHH #okay im fine now

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liliewrites · 11 months ago

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"IN THE HEARTHFIRE'S EMBRACE"

a/n ; HALLOO:DD so, here's the first part of the "let the world burn" series inspired by the song of the same name from chris grey. more women will be added to the list as i go, so feel free to drop some suggestions which genshin women you think would be a great addition to the series. anywaay, thanks for readingg:))

-warning/s ; a bit of descriptive violence, mentions of blood and burning but not directed at the reader. -pairing/s ; arlecchino x fem!reader.

where in ; these women would go against every person in teyvat-- would even watch teyvat burn, all for your sake.

(men please dni utc!)

“Lynette, whatever happens, keep your mother safe.”

The words rang in the little girl’s ears repeatedly as she held the older woman’s hands. They were not related by blood in any way, but this woman had taken care of her, raised her and nurtured her for as long as she could remember. So she keeps her father’s words, and protects the woman with what she has.

“There they are! The wife of the Knave!!”

With an annoyed curse beneath a whisper, Lynette grabs onto your hand tightly, pulling you to run away as the spies have found you in your hiding spot. Tired, panting and breathless- your legs felt like it was about to give out, but thanks to the adrenaline spiking through your body, you just kept running, and running, and then finding yourself driven in a corner with nowhere to escape as the spies had surrounded you from all sides.

Despite being struck with fear, your motherly instincts came first as you held your precious daughter in your arms, wanting to protect her more than wanting to be protected by her.

“Mother, I can… I can handle this!” Lynette exclaimed, but you knew better, it was two against half a dozen grown men and only Lynette was capable of fighting out of the two of you but her alone would not be enough to face them. “My child, settle down, I'd rather die than witness you slain in front of me. Let me protect you, so hush.”

You whispered, tears starting to form in the corner of your eyes as immense fear ran through your veins. You closed your eyes shut to brace yourself for impact, heart filled with dread as one of the men neared you with a blade of his own. He let out a sickly chuckle at your demise, the wife of the Knave’s to be precise, then raising his arm up to—

“Fucking imbeciles.”

—to fall in front of you beheaded, with warm and thick blood splattered against you and the child in your arms. You opened your eyes to look up but you already knew who it was and to your horrific relief, it was your wife covered in blood who stood menacingly in the background. Her hand letting go of her scythe that she earlier held with a grip so tight, her hands trembled while she slayed the wretched men in blinded fury then she started to slowly walk towards you.

You gasped at the sight and immediately covered Lynette's eyes as she was no more than just a child who although you knew was no stranger to this kind of scenery, you still wanted to shield her from the gruesome sight. Nonetheless, still, you felt glee to see your wife.

As for said wife, Arlecchino’s chest was heaving in pure, unfiltered wrath and with no remorse stepped upon the men’s lifeless bodies in a rather harsh manner. Her sharp, pointed heels stabbed itself into the flesh as she made her way towards you through the fire she had caused in the midst of tearing the men apart just a few moments ago.

— but as soon as she reached you, the look in her eyes softened and all hostility she held had instantly melted away. Replaced by a vulnerable and fragile display of guilt and fear as the apathetic mask she’d mastered to put on for years straight had cracked for a brief moment out of fear for you. “My beloved, I am deeply sorry for arriving so late...” she apologized and her tone sounded so different than how she insulted the man who almost killed you. She gently pulled you up into her arms and held you and her daughter with a relieved sigh.

“I didn't realize that a few had escaped and chased after you, my beloved. I am terribly, terribly sorry for making such a horrible mistake.” Her voice was shaky and you knew that behind the tough exterior she tried to put on, her heart was broken beyond a million pieces at the thought of almost losing you.

“My dear, it is alright. Lynette kept me safe, and we are alive.” You tried to reassure her, but at the moment you had mentioned the word “alive”, the intense emotions kicked in as she was reminded of the fact that if she arrived just even a second late, you and her daughter would’ve been dead along with the men that lay on the ground. The raging embers of fury ignited once more, so she separated for a moment to summon countless burning crimson blades in thin air one after another, embedding it into the lifeless bodies that lay on the ground. After her little outburst, she looked at the burning men with a glare and held you tightly to keep you safe and secure to provide you solace, amidst the burning chaos of flames that surrounded all three of you.

“My beloved, if you were to die at the hands of such crooked men, tainted and ruined, I could never find it in my heart to watch the world prosper without you as it’d have no meaning at all.”

She spoke with such conviction that it felt like a comforting flame that soothed the fear in your heart but to those who dare lay a finger on you, this served as a threat as this same woman who held you and your child with such a gentle hold and looked at you with tender eyes swearing that she would be capable of attempting to kill the Tsaritsa with her bare hands in a heartbeat— if it meant protecting you.

There is no sane bone in her body, that was indeed a fact, but if you were to be taken away from her then she’d be willing to watch the world go poof, drowned in the flames of her agony of your loss if it were to ever happen.

#arlecchino x reader #arlecchino genshin impact #arlecchino x female reader #lilac writes💜#we all love arle in this blog

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knavesdamsel · 4 months ago

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when the children are safely huddled up by Clervie, listing to her ramble about the recent adventures she’s had while Arlecchino works on her entomology papers with a peaceful mind, but then then lamp starts to look weird

#gasp first Arle angst #well it’s not really angst tbh #Lana might be regretting her choices #Arlecchino #house of the hearth #lyney #lynette #freminet #arleccino genshin #genshin lyney #lynette genshin #freminet genshin #genshin impact #Genshin #knavesdamsel #arlecchino x reader #lyney x reader #lynette x reader #freminet x reader

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beiibeiii · 1 year ago

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bathing together

fluff!arlecchino x reader sfw

i was in the bath and suddenly i started hallucinating arlecchino with me so heres this

due to arlecchino being busy as a harbinger, times like this are rare. you both make sure to make the most out of it. the calming music coming from the phonograph was playing in the background. there were rose petals, bath salts and dimly lit candles. it was all so romantic.

arlecchino was relaxing in the bath with you. you were sat in between her legs, her arms are wrapped around your waist so tenderly in the warm bubbly water. your back is against her. arlecchino's long hair is untied, loosly falling down against her back. her head nuzzled into your shoulder.

"i love you." you mumbled as you smile softly. your hands lightly hold onto her wrists as she holds you.

you can feel her lips curl up against your skin into a soft smile as she takes in the sweet scent of you. her arms give your body a light squeeze.

"i love you more.." she mumbled against your neck, giving you a soft and tender kiss.

her mouth and hold is warm.

shes so gentle and caring with you. she pulls away and pours some body wash into her hands. you hear the warm, steamy water splash around as she moves. soon blackened arms make their way to your back.

"your so pretty, my dear." she utters softly.

you could feel her breath on your shoulder. you laugh softly, her praise never fails to get old. she always enjoyed seeing you happy. you loved it when she was so sweet like this.

as she scrubs your back, she makes sure the be extra careful to not scratch you with her nails. her touch is so relaxing. you feel all tension leave your body when your with her. the dimly lit candles serving as lighting make her look so pretty. she rubs at all the right places, making you feel so good. her touch was so pure and loving.

"lower please, arle.." you sigh out in relief.

she obeys like the good husband she is. her hands lower down your back. her nails gently gliding down your back.

"here my dear?" she asks you.

her hands are exactly where you wanted them to be. you let out a soft, content breath.

"just right there my love.." you answered.

her mouth curls up ever so slightly again. shes happy shes able to be herself around you. eventually she washes the body wash off your back. the water drips down from your back. you turn your head to the side to face her with a light smile. she immediately leans in to peck you on the lips. leaving you with a blush on your cheeks.

"don't be embarrassed my dear, let me take care of you." her voice was gentle.

you feel her hands dip into your hair. her gentle fingers massaging your scalp with hair wash.

only you had her like a lovesick fool. she loves you so much, even if she doesn't show it sometimes. <3

#bei randoms #genshin impact #genshin x reader #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino #arlecchino fluff #arlecchino genshin #fluff #genshin fluff #ily arle sob #shes such a cutie sobb #arle the husband you are 😭💗

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aixeko · 9 months ago

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-`♡´-≐ “ IF THE WORLD WAS ENDING, I'D WANNA BE NEXT TO YOU ” ≐-`♡´-

| Starring | Soft!Arlecchino x Harbinger!Reader

| Setting | Genshin universe

| Scenario | [ SHORT FIC ] FLUFF! Soft with a hint of angst. Pronouns are not used. A bit fast paced. Not proofread.

► RADIO CHANNEL [Author note]

× This is so mid and I refuse to reread. I’m so sorry if the quality of the fic is not up to par with the others. × Fluff is so boring I'm sorry, It's not my cup of tea.

[ Word count: 2034 ] | Art credit: Blufyrein on Twitter & Instagram

August 20 XXXX…

“The house of the hearth has been blazing with activity ever since the children heeded the upcoming anniversary of my birth. Even with my reluctance, they insisted on celebrating this occasion, one in which I won't prevent seeing the amount of effort and enthusiasm they are collectively putting into this yearly ceremony.

It has been some time now since you last celebrated with us; in fact, it was four years ago exactly on this day, August 20th. Four years in which you had left for your mission issued by the Taritasa to Natlan, and four years since we last heard of your welfare. The children, in spite of the low possibility of attendance, still persist in accounting for your awaited arrivals, and I too bide my time for the day you return home to us.

If it isn't an inconvenience for you, please do not let their hard work wither into nothingness; perhaps even a response letter would be utmost appreciated by the children.

The hearth is set ablaze, anticipating your safe homecoming; the children miss you."

Two days have passed since Arlecchino sent her most recent letter to you, and the day of her birthday has arrived with the expected ghosting from your side. Her hands focused on providing perfection to the barbecue, moving on their own like a second conscious being, while her gaze stared blankly at the grill, her mind stuck in deep thoughts.

Arlecchino is not one to sugarcoat or disprove the factuality of a situation, but with the lack of responses, or rather no response, over the past four years, the overwhelming, woeful truth has become more prominent than ever.

Her grip on the tongs tightened; with the amount of pressure she was applying, it could bend the steel into a useless apparatus. Furrowed eyebrows follow along with a frustrated sigh and a shake of her head. No, impossible. How can a Harbinger who is soon to be awarded the ranking just below her fall victim to the accursed consequence of life, such as death? It's impossible; the odds are practically none unless you have run into trouble with the almighty archon of Natan; then that is the only possible outcome that can lead to your ultimate demise. Even the mere thought of that possibility is unbelievable; the person whom Arlecchino has married is not one known to be the hostile type despite ranking as a highly potent Harbinger. To hell and back, your personality is enough to make even the devil himself view you as a passive mortal being; you are not married to a woman such as Arlecchino herself for no good reason.

"FATHER!" A young adult male screamed out in horrorstruck desperation.

The sound of her being called awoke Arlecchino from her trance; her head snapped to the young man, whose skin, once flawless, was now bruised, with short ash-blond hair and wearing magician-like clothing that was now dirtied with his own blood. The apron wrapping around her, along with the tongs in hand, was thrown onto the ground as she rushed to her bloody child. The other children near the area hurried to their brother, their expressions sharing concern and anger at the sight.

Arlecchino catches him once his body gives up; desperate, inaudible cries escape his mouth, with the only few words being coherent: Lynette—everyone—hurts!

Those words are enough for her X-shaped eyes to light up to a color akin to flame. Arlecchino's face visibly darkened at the announcement; from its tone, the situation was a lot direr than she could have expected. She gently but hastily lowered Lyney to the ground, her voice booming with command to the children to aid him while she raced to where he had come from. The children who specialized in combat rather than the medical aspects hurtled with Arlecchino despite not being in their Fatui attire; their bodies, enraged, moved on adrenaline alone.

Another one of the children who is limping sees the reinforcements approaching and points in the direction of the ongoing battlefield onslaught. Distant screams are heard, and Arlecchino has no time to properly bring her children to safety; thus, some of the others take charge in retreating the injured to let her focus on eliminating the source of the massacre.

Once she arrives at the cluster of her heavily wounded children and spots the suspect, who's draped in a dark cloak covering their whole body, Arlecchino takes no time transforming into her stronger form.

Arlecchino's scythe bolts at the infiltrator in synchronization with her body, whose speed could be described as quick as lightning. Arlecchino is left with constricted pupils as the mysterious figure dodges the attack with absolute ease, like they have just vanished into thin air.

"It seems like the great supreme Knave has gotten weaker."

The unrecognized tone of a whisper against her ears has her swinging her scythe at a 360-degree angle; this action causes the person to leap backward with a laugh. Arlecchino stands poised, her eyes scanning the figure to make out some sort of recognizable appearance. By the sound of their voice, Arlecchino feels a sense of familiarity coursing throughout all 206 of her bones, yet she can't place her finger on why the stranger is able to invoke such a feeling.

"You made a grave mistake daring to step forth against the House of the Hearth."

One of Arlecchino's hand ignites in a surge of power, and with that, she leaves no time for a response as her scythe hurls at the figure, with a burst of multiple flaming sword-like shapes surrounding the weapon.

Arlecchino's hand snaps out, catching the leg hurtling at her head. Her voice cuts through the air, sharp and full of mockery: "Too slow."

"Not bad!" laughed the person as they disappeared once more, causing a tsk of irritation to be emitted from Arlecchino.

Arlecchino figured that enough was enough and unleashed various attacks all at once, and not a single one landed; it was like this stranger had already calculated and understood every single little detail about her fighting style. The fact that they didn't actually attack but rather used dodge gave Arlecchino a bit of insight; they were playing a game of speed while she was playing a game of strength.

The gleam in Arlecchino's eyes intensified, sparking with otherworldly vigor. Her hand rose, mirroring the spark within as she muttered, "So be it." Her voice breathed life into a realm unseen by mortal eyes, with only an unlucky few witnessing its crimson moon.

The unidentified figure struggles in their stance, proving to be immobile. Play as you like, but to challenge a Harbinger of her standing is nothing to be confident about; daring to try to manipulate the outcome to your desire against another manipulator is pathetically laughable.

Or so Arlecchino thought, because what she didn't expect was for the stranger to be able to move of their own free will, but also to strike her domain as useless and nonexistent with a familiar style.

Her eyes narrowed once back to the real world, for there had only been one person who was informed about how to elude her realm, and based on the dependence on speed rather than strength, it was already a giveaway. Moments later, her suspicion proves true, yet not as anticipated as she presumes as she sees the stranger dashing towards her—well, not a stranger but the one who swiped her caged heart away into a loving shelter, you. You sprint towards her, shedding your cloak through the stride. In a heartbeat, you jump onto her, embracing her tightly with your warmth for an unexpected reunion, but one with no complaints.

"Peruere!"

Arlecchino freezes momentarily at the sudden action, but once recognition dawns, she returns your grip with an equal amount of fierce.

"You're home."

"I'm home!" You grin and draw back to study the face you longed for and missed for the past four years.

Her eyes, no more did they fume with fury; rather, in replacement of it, there radiated a tenderness shown to a small selected lucky few. A rare softness graces her features, an expression reserved only for children and, more intensely, for you.

"Happy birthday—"

You're interrupted by a peck on the lip; honestly, if it weren't for how unexpected it is for the likes of Arlecchino, it would have completely flown past you as some sort of dust.

"I figure the odds of you arriving today would be little to none, but nonetheless, welcome back home, my dear," she paused. "Although that little stunt of yours is not one easily forgiven or overlooked."

Arlecchino glances at the gathering that has formed all around her, more specifically at the young man who is hiding behind his twin sister with a nervous smile.

"Still as stone-hard as ever, I see, but I do admit my twisted plan for a reunion could have been alternated for a sweeter one," you give her an apologetic smile. "My sincerest apologies, Peruere."

"Why didn't you respond to any of my letters?" Arlecchino asked, turning back to look at you and settling you down to your feet to your dismay.

"I did!" you perked. "It just seems like Natlan is a horrible fit for communicating with letters since, somehow, it keeps getting lost and burned to ashes in the lava."

"Your face betrays you, darling." Arlecchino's fingers danced through your hair. "Your face says it all; it's a given that you know there is no hiding anything from me. Don't lie to me; you didn't know I had sent you letters."

"Haha... Look, in my defense, my mission was a mess, and doing anything is a whole other disorder; I'm thankful that the Captain is taking over because that region is a headache to deal with."

Arlecchino places a hand on your waist, pulling you close as her lips make contact with your head. "Setting everything aside, let us use our time together again to celebrate instead of bickering."

The children cheered at the public display of affection between their parents, and the one who was "tending the wounded" was, in fact, actually bringing the barbecue from the House of the Hearth to the large field.

"The children miss you," Arlecchino whispers into your ear, her head pressed against yours.

You wanted to laugh at the children's excuse; she really had not changed much in the past four years, still playing off a cold demeanor to hide the soft shell hidden beneath it, one you had already melted through.

Your eyelids lift, catching her smile, which reveals her pearly white teeth. Your gaze softens. In reality, many things have changed since you first met her, yet she refuses to give herself credit for it. She was once only known as Arlecchino or by her Harbinger title, The Knave, but over the past years, the facade has lowered greatly to divulge the true identity of Father, The Knave, Arlecchino to just Peruere.

"I miss the children too."

For the rest of the day, that smile didn't leave; no, it was displayed for the whole world to see and ravish in. Nor did she leave your side once, insisting on even public displays of affection in spite of being surrounded by the children, and in her own words, "It's to make up for all the time that has been lost."

If only she knew that in the far future, when all of her hair turns white, with yours matching hers, she would realize it was the worst lie she had ever spoken.

If only she knew that in the future she had accidentally made an unspoken oath with herself to spend the rest of her time loving you to make up for the other half of her time that was spent hiding how much she loved you.

The smile, unbeknownst to both of you, would be a permanent fixture. It would endure through your remaining years, brightening each day until your final moments together, when life's inevitable decline finally claims you both.

Even when the world was ending, at least you both would be next to each other, dying with a smile stretching across your features.

#erise short #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x y/n #arlecchino x you #arlecchino fluff #arle fluff #arlecchino genshin impact #arlecchino #genshin x reader #genshin wlw #genshin impact #peruere #the knave #genshin arlecchino #peruere x reader

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knavesflames · 9 months ago

Note

Hello, I hope your day goes well as you're reading this!

If your request is still open, can I request touch deprived! Arlecchino and Touch deprived! Reader? Like reader is very clingy and affectionate to her closest friends because she's been deprived of physical affection since she was younger, and Arlecchino who's also touch deprived but unlike reader who has no problem with physical affection, she finds it hard to do it, but when she meets reader who's hugs are so comfortable she's grown addicted to it and craves her gentle touches more and more, thank you! Have a great day or night!

(I realise I’m apologising on every post for the late ones, but I’m almost caught up to a reasonable delay) hi anon!! I feel this hard, I am so affectionate because I was touch starved as a child. Though, I focused this writing piece more on Arlecchino. I love exploring her and her being in character and slightly OOC too. (She’s my comfort character, can you guys tell?) thank you for the ask!

Word count: 1k

Content: fluff, Arlecchino is touched starved, she loves you

Nsft utc!

Arlecchino and you have come from completely different backgrounds (that are unfortunately all too similar as well). You worked well together even so, your routines matching each other, the same sense of humour. By that, I mean, you joked, her lips barely turned up, and she hummed in response (which is equivalent to your wheezing on the sofa over.. a silly cat?). The point is, you worked. You both made sense together. Except one, tiny little detail.

You loved physical touch, and she despised it. Once you discovered how it felt, you were obsessed. You loved the way your body was enveloped by arms that seemed like they’d block out the whole world for you.

Arlecchino hated physical touch. She isn’t used to it, she grew up with her horrifying excuse for a Mother, and physical affection was used often as manipulation rather than anything else, she saw that much with what happened to her dear, dear friend (who haunts her dreams).

The first time Arlecchino held you was a year into your relationship. She awoke during the night to an empty bed, and when she made her way towards the living room, she saw you, in tears on the sofa. A bad dream, you had said, and nothing more. Arlecchino saw the way your body was almost aching for some sort of touch, and despite the discomfort, her arms wrapped around you. Awkward, clumsy, and a little bit forced, but she hugged you. She had not hugged someone since she was sixteen. Without a word, her thumb stroked against your arm, and she felt the way your body slumped against her body. She felt like a burning fire, you realised, most likely due to the flames running through her veins, but you welcomed it nonetheless.

She began to notice that holding you in her embrace was not as torturous as she assumed. Arlecchino held you until you fell asleep.

Her embraces were few and far between, reserved only for special moments or moments where she can see you need them. Her facial expression never changes, but over time, she becomes slightly more comfortable with every hug. She ended up craving your embraces, the way your hand gingerly caresses her cheek and your lips on her skin, the gentle squeeze on her arm when you go past her. She wanted so desperately to associate touch with you instead, someone she knows could never hurt a spider.

Eventually, she begins allowing it more and more, and even begins silently hinting when she wants one by sighing slightly louder, or grumbling a bit when things go wrong, only to feel a fuzzy warmth inside when you smile at her and give a gentle touch. Both you and Arlecchino wonder if she will one day make the first move.

Arlecchino does not know why she dislikes physical affection so much. She enjoys buying gifts she knows you will cherish and love instead, doing things at a distance. This was never supposed to be anything more than a fling, she didn’t want investment, she didn’t want any affection to be returned, but she fell for you, and hard. She dislikes how vulnerable she has become around you, but a part of her deep down inside of her likes it too. Arlecchino is scared you will leave, that you will ruin her one day, and she feels like it won’t happen if she doesn’t let on how hard she has fallen. (Everyone knows and says nothing.)

Perhaps she prefers affection the way she does, unrequited and with little investment, is because some part of her craves a love so great that it would tear her apart, and that frightens her. She does not know how to receive love, yet she still wants a love that will consume her entire being and burn hotter than the flames that course through her veins with every beat of her slowly-thawing heart. You are thawing her, she knows that much.

The weather chills the way her touch grows warmer, and winter comes quickly. The winter in Snezhnaya was cold and biting, and despite her accommodating her home for you (she clearly does not need it) by lighting the fireplace and leaving you blankets, the cold still finds its way into your bones, leaving you shivering. One night, when it is the coldest night of the year, you find yourself unable to sleep at all. You lay awake in the dark, thinking about your past the way you always do at night, shivering so hard you’re practically vibrating.

At some point, you hear her stirring, and you try to quiet yourself, to make sure she can continue sleeping. She noticed the second she opened her eyes, though. Doesn’t she always? She is glad you are pretending to sleep so you do not see the hesitation in her eyes before she snaps herself out of it and does what you both want her to. Wordlessly, she shuffles a few inches closer and her arm wraps around your midsection, dragging you closer until her body is wrapped around yours. Arlecchino, being the attentive person she is, notices your smile and sigh of relief and the way your shivering stops. She notices the way you nestle further in once you know she’s okay with it, and she notices when your breath falls into a deep rhythm.

It is her turn to stare at the wall, her heart beating faster than usual, the only giveaway of any of her feelings. Slowly, her arms snake around you until she’s holding you so tight you can’t move even if you wanted to. Her breath is visible when she exhales, when she lets her body finally relax in the company of another. Arlecchino buries her face into your hair, smelling your shampoo. The smell makes her drowsy, she tells herself (it is not the smell, it is that after so many years, her walls have crumbled completely), and she finds her eyes drooping until she, too, falls into the throes of sleep.

Arlecchino sleeps the best she ever has. Arlecchino has her first night of no nightmares since she became the poor, mad, cursed knave. Arlecchino does not feel so cursed when you are beside her.

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edgeray · 6 months ago

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More Streamer! Arlecchino with her chat:

If you know which streamer these quotes are from, I'm going to aggressively make out with you.

Magic_cat_boi: Have you gotten the covid vaccine yet?

Streamer! Arle: No.

Magic_cat_boi: You must be on the priority list since you're so old.

Streamer! Arle: SHUT--

PersPenguin: Who's your favorite child?

Streamer! Arle: I can't pick a favorite chi- Freminet. I can't pick a favorite child. What are you talking about?

TeaCatLady: Father. Why are you doing this.

Streamer! Arle, doing some dumb crap: I am doing the necessary science that everyone wants to see. I'm doing a service.

Streamer Arle, gasping in horror: A child.

Arlecchino outside of stream:

#edgeray.rambles #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino #i am plagued by streamer arle #help

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celuere · 2 months ago

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Can I pretty please, and oh so kindly, and only if it's okay, request for soft smut scene with Arlecchino? I love your headcanons about her when her wife is pregnant and even after giving birth... So I can't help but fantasize about Arlecchino making sweet love to her wife a couple of weeks after she recovers from childbirth? Thank you so much, and I hope you keep creating and sharing your beautiful brainchildren. 🥹🥰

birds of a feather.

pairing: arlecchino x fem!reader

cw: fingering, arles fat dick, soft sex omg, pathetic lesbian arlecchino who cheered, so much fluff it‘ll make you throw up, body worship, breeding because one child with her ain‘t enough, uhmmm slight lactation kink- WHO SAID THAT.

anon you GOT me with that ask. like straight up grabbing me by the throat with it. bless you.

word count: 2.2k

you breathed out a sigh laced with exhaustion as you pulled your dirty shirt over your head. turns out having a baby throw up over you right after getting off the breast isn‘t the most pleasant experience.

your eyes lingered on your body a bit too long. the stretch marks on your tummy along with the loose skin from your baby belly were enough evidence of the childbirth you put yourself through a little over six months. luckily it wasn‘t as bad as some stories made it out to be, but those 36 hours of labor were… something. ten fingers weren‘t enough to count how often you told your husband to shut up even tho she tried her best to relieve you. wiping your forehead with a cool cloth, helping you walk the stairs of your manor up and down which was… embarrassing with an entire team of midwives and doctors watching your every step. but overall you did amazing.

parenthood was… scary might be the wrong term but it was definitely new territory for the both of you. even arlecchino. she could handle toddlers, teenagers and young adults, that‘s what she has been doing for the last ten years after all, but a newborn? which she gets to call her own? the baby you nurtured in your belly for nine months? cut her some slack, she is doing the best she can. you aren‘t even allowed to get up during the night if she isn‘t hungry. it is always your husband changing her diapers and soothing her back to slumber so incredibly fast that you start wondering if she isn‘t feeding the baby benadryl.

you looked up to the door being opened by none other than arlecchino, bloody eyes immediately landing on your exposed upper body before they drove up to your face. she visibly swallowed.

„she… just fell back asleep.“, her mouth was slightly left open as she closed the door behind her. she couldn‘t quite tear her gaze off of you and that meant something. she wasn‘t being awkward when you breastfed, nor did she even mention the topic of intimacy for the last months but now… she did look quite caught off guard.

„you are staring, honey…“

the harbinger slightly shook her head, averting her eyes as she walked over to your shared bed.

„my apologies. i didn’t intend to cause any unease for you. but…“, with her back turned to you, you failed to see how she had to bite her lower lip. and how she was practically clawing into her pants.

„but you look ravishing.“

you stayed silent as you watched your husband get back into bed. heart pounding against your ribcage, threatening to set out a beat or two. it has been a while since those x‘s have been filled with anything else other than love and affection. the moment was short lived but you did catch that glimmer of lust flying over her face.

„ravishing you say…?“, you let your sleepwear drop to the floor as you made your way over to her and god the way her eyes where quite literally fucking you already.

„what do you think you‘re doing?“, she didn’t quite know where to look. your swollen breasts? your tummy and the marks stretching over the skin? or your beautiful face? it‘s not often that the knave is having a hard time with making decisions.

„you… looked like you wanted to have a closer look…“

„ma cherié, please cover yourself up- i don’t want you to walk around with your bare chest for my sake.“, grabbing the cardigan that was resting on your side of the bed before she handed it over to you, trying to ignore just how hard she already was from merely looking at you.

„why, don’t you like what you are seeing…? i know i gained some weight during pregnancy a-and my stomach is also hanging a bit loose…“, you did feel your heart sink at the thought of being unattractive to her. especially after what you put your body through.

arlecchino only stared at you in disbelief of what you just said. as if you just slapped her right across the face. the disbelief in her eyes seemingly growing with each moment that passed.

„i strongly detest such accusations. infact, i have never found you more beautiful…“, her hand gently clasped your arm in her grip as she tugged you onto her lap, „yet i don‘t want you to feel obligated to show yourself off to me. you… gave birth. you bore my child. i want things to move at your pace and if i ever gave you a different impression then i deeply apologize for that. it wasn‘t my inten-“, she halted mid-sentence when you moved her hand over to your tits until she cupping you in her palm.

„we are very much moving at my pace, my dear husband… do you have any idea how difficult it is to watch you do literally anything lately…?“, you noticed her lips part as her hand gave you a soft squeeze, dragging a moan right out of you.

„is that so? elaborate…“, she gave your nipple a tender pinch, eyes never leaving your own.

„i-it‘s just the way you handle her- or how you‘ve been in home office for the last months now… a-always being there when i need you… s-simple things l-like that… hah…“, your face flushed more with a deep red after each syllable rolling over your lips. her intense gaze on you. the hand massaging your tit. you almost didn‘t notice in the midst of the heat how you began to lose some milk. her attention was immediately fixed on the creamy fluid running over her hand.

„look at you…“, you audibly gasped as you felt her mouth close around your nipple. not sucking. merely letting this fluid gold run right over tongue. she has been curious for quite some time about the taste but archons forbid the knave would ask her nursing wife to have a taste of her breastmilk. she needs to maintain at least some of her dignity.

pregnancy has made them so incredibly sensitive to the touch. seeing your husband knead and clinging to them is just… you‘ll have to change panties again. or maybe you don‘t. because a certain hand was already working on shoving them aside, coating her fingers immediately in your slick as she let go of your boob.

„you taste just as sweet as i expected… and as you look.“, something in her eyes turned so incredibly weak at the sight of your flushed face. while something else was straining against the prison of her boxers.

„y-you are overdoing it, r-really- ah-!“, your hand found her neck as she sunk two clipped fingers into your warmth. and god it felt like coming back home to a home cooked meal after a long business trip. her movements were hesitant at first as she studied your face for any signs of pain or being uncomfortable.

„mhm… my sweet angel… already moving your hips against me?“, her smile was lethal when she managed to hit your weakest spot with just a simple curl of her fingers. on the first try.

the sudden hit caused your back to arch and your body to shiver. it almost felt like she was not a single day out of practice where it not for the hesitant movements.

she was testing how deep the waters are before she steps into them.

„h-how- how do you still know how to h-hit it-?“, a rhetorical question.

„my love.“, her digits now softly pressing and massaging this important spot inside of you as you were gripping onto her fingers for dear life, „i could never forget something as important as my wife‘s pleasure.“

you forgot how truly skilled she actually was with those fingers. how good she knew your body from the outside and inside. each curl felt calculated as if she wanted to push you near the cliff of your self restraint but not off of it. and it worked so well.

arlecchino on the other side was absolutely besotted if not getting completely drunk off the sight of her wife riding her fingers as if it‘s day one. crimson gaze roaming over your body, how your tits bounced with each movement in front of her face and those stretchmarks… these things were awakening something in her that harbinger didn‘t even know existed. and she loved you for it. she loved how you led her to discovering new sides of herself everyday. a baby? something she could only ever imagine with you and nobody else.

„peru- p-peruere please-“

„please what, amour? you have such a pretty mouth… tell me exactly what you want me to do…“, her voice was reduced to nothing but a soft whisper. no sign of the usual deep, monotone sound.

„c-can- gulp can i have you inside- n-not your fingers- i-i mean your-“, she didn‘t let you finish that sentence as you felt her hand securing the back of your head as she carefully laid you back down on the mattress, fingers smoothly retreating from your aching pussy.

„i‘ll give you anything you want, dove. i‘d even pluck the moon out of the firmament if you asked me to.“, a much bigger hand engulfed yours before lifting it up to her lips, pressing a gentle kiss right on top of your wedding ring. archons above. you never felt more fertile to be honest.

and if eyes could fuck, you‘d be on your 4th orgasm already.

„wh-what… what are you looking at…?“, you suppressed the urge to hide your body by crossing your arms in front of your chest.

„i… am currently looking at my stunning wife. and how beautiful she still looks after bringing a baby into the world.“, your lungs grew suddenly too big for your ribcage as she lowered her head towards your abdomen before you felt her lips hitting one of the various marks stretching over the skin.

„mother of my child… music to my ears.“, and it didn‘t stop at peppering gentle kisses onto you. her hands had to give your hips a nice massage as she slowly worked her way up to breasts, cupping the soft mass in her cursed existence before you found the hardened bud back between her lips.

you didn‘t know how many minutes she spent with just kissing and licking every single inch of your body. whispering the occasional „i love you.“ in between those sensual moments while your heart hurt so bad. not in a bad way of course. her words just seemed too big for you to comprehend, it felt like it was ripping you apart from the inside. sex never felt dirty with her. no matter how rough or soft she was with you. it was always intimate, sensitive, special. like two puzzle pieces finally fitting each other.

she almost came right on the spot when she entered you. actually had to take a few moments to regulate her breathing in order to not come inside of you after ten seconds. since when did she have so little control over herself?

on the other side of the coin you weren‘t doing any better. hips urging her to go deeper as you gripped the sheets with all your might in an attempt to somehow anchor yourself.

„may i-“

„god please- yes-“

you often pictured this particular moment. the first bit of intimacy after months of navigating parenthood. you imagined her to be starved. rough. hungry. yet she was none of it. her pace was slow, almost scared. as if she was handling a porcelain figure. her grip on you was tender. no nails digging into you since she is keeping them neatly filed down in order to not harm the baby. and she was moaning. something she barely did. your husband was vocal. vocal and vulnerable and you couldn‘t get enough of it.

she looked so weak. so incredibly weak with how she had to keep the drool running out of her mouth by licking her lips every now and then, red eyes darting around, unsure where to look. your flushed face? your chest? your abdomen? or her dick pumping in and out of you and the creamy ring that already formed around her base?

if her place was inside her wife‘s pussy then so be it.

you choose to not comment on her state. she‘d deny it anyway.

what really did the trick for her was when you grabbed after her hand, fingers intertwining with each other as if not even time and space could separate you.

„tu seras ma fin…“

„you will be the end of me…“

you shared everything that night. memories. weaknesses and even orgasms.

when she painted thick ropes of her cum inside of you she couldn‘t fight the urge to press you all the way down on her. to make sure she was savoring every single bit of herself inside of you.

and right now you moaned her name like a prayer to the gods. not to be saved but to be blessed with maybe another addition to the family. securing the bloodlines or something like that.

your joined panting filled the room and the smell of raw sex probably hung in the air too.

„thank you.“

„f-for what…?“

it was then when you heard a cry coming from across the hallway. an all too familiar cry. a reminder of your love for each other.

„for this.“

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