#cough daddy arlecchino cough

[evelynpr]

Arlecchino's most Dad Form yet:

the awkward smile, the hand on hip with no sway, the fur coat over the shoulder. my archons she is such a Father

[musings-of-miss-j]

no rest for the wicked (nor the foolish)

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

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

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

series masterlist

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

word count: 4725

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

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

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

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

“Huh. You look very human.”

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

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

“Incredible. Did he give you a name?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what you see, sweetheart?”

Oh, for the love of-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Patronising piece of-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are an incorrigible man.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hummed thoughtfully, chewing over his response.

“So you believe you’d win this time?”

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

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

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

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

“Really?! You’ve got to show me.”

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

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

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

“Great idea, let’s try that too!”

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

Wow. Bloodthirsty much?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But you can get the bullseye every time?”

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

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

“Where are you going with this, Eleven?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Only when it comes to you, he thought wistfully.

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

taglist:

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

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

@luvenus702, @zoriaisasimp, @ra404, @crownohomo

@diamondcookie45

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

[cynarisgayass]

𓍊𓋼~Rough pleasures~𓋼𓍊

Type: Oneshot

Description: I'm a Arlecchino simp and today I felt the overwhelming need for her to step on me and beat me up so I wrote about it <3 enjoy

Rating: Explicit

Reader: GN, has a pain kink, afab

Includes: Arlecchino

(Warnings!): Rough/mean dom Arlecchino, daddy kink mention, reader does get some injuries, afixia play, pain kink, degradation kink, slight knife play...this is basically smut

Arlecchino:

You gasped through a strangled breath as her heel surrounded your neck, a hair length away from ending your life while you laid on the floor, never wearing to disobey her. The sharp blade merrily grazed your skin as you looked up at her, glowing red eyes filled with a roaring fire you'd never tame staring right back at you. You felt afraid, you were hers, should could do whatever she wanted with you...and you'd like it too. "Dadd-"

"Shut up. You must truly be lost in the mind, why else would you continue to set yourself up for punishment. It's pitiful, a sad cry for attention. It's...fun." She pulled away from you, gesturing for you to stand back up while her lips formed a sadistic smirk. Watching you struggle in pain to get on your feet, just for her to do it all over again...honestly how pathetic. She couldn't get enough of that look you'd get, like you were in between calling for help and finishing like a whore right were you stood.

Your legs weakly quivered beneath you as you pushed yourself up off the ground, blood dripping from your split lip and heat filling your cheeks as she stepped closer to you again. Her piercing presences was enough to leave your heart racing..."i-im sorry."

Her smile widened as she slowly trailed her sharp nails up your shirt, past the collar of it...till she reached your throat. You let out a small whimper while her fingers wrapped tightly around it, forcing your breathing to slow and smashing you into the closest wall.

"Your apologies mean nothing~"

Her words were hot against your ear, dripping with a threating tone you loved more than anything. Even as you struggled to breath you felt your legs rubbing together in ecstasy, your body calling for release. She was just so powerful, so controlling and perfect. "P-pleasse"

"Slut." Her free hand slid down in between your thighs and you could have screamed in joy, strikes of burning pleasure zipping through your body as you groaned and fought to breath. You were seeing white, pleading for her to never stop while her fingers disappeared inside of you, moving with great force.

"Mmgh!" You coughed out, eyes rolling back as it all became to much for you. Air suddenly filled your lungs and your hips moved in autopilot till a gush of your wetness coated her hand. You could barely stand, drool dripping down your chin and she wasn't even done...

"Now now, I hope you don't think that was all~"

i need her rn. i'm going feral, please

[scentedashes]

My sugar daddy<3~

Lumine x Arlecchino!

Lumine POV

Sugar daddy!Arlecchino Sugar Baby!Lumine

18+ MDNI !!

NSFW

Hey homos, i am back with sesbian lex to feed yall (I did not get arles weapon)

You were just scrolling thru tinder, while you found this handsome woman.. You saw she was finding a "sugar baby" You hopefully thought she'd be a good one to get money from.

You instantly swiped right, a few minutes later, you got a notification text from her.

"Hi there, Lumine was it?" She texted.

"Yes! Arlecchino am i right?😊" You replied with an emoji.

"Would you mind to meet up on a date? I'll pay."

You giggled and answered yes. You went to stalk her profile and saw she was a CEO of a company called "House of the hearth".

A few hours later, you arrived to the restaurant you guys planned on meeting. It was a very fancy and expensive one, you waited for a minute and saw a Limousine park infront of the road.

"Woah.." You said, amused. You saw a red silhouette get out of the car, it was a woman dressed in a black and red suit.

"Ah, Lumine." She reached for your hand and kissed it. "My apologies for making you wait, may we find a seat?" She said flirtingly.

"A-ah, y-yes!" You stuttered from the sudden kiss on your hand, a writer then approaches both of you.

"Welcome in! Please follow me as i will take you both to your seats." The waiter seats both of you to a window two seated table. "I will be your waiter for tonight, may i get both of your orders?" You both than order, the waiter then leaves.

"I say, your very beautiful when met in person, Miss Lumine." She smiled, you blushed from the random compliment. "Why thank you, Lumine can do fine!" You responded.

A few minutes later, the waiter comes with the food. "Would you guys care for wine?" As they held the wine bottle,

"Sure." Arlecchino replied,

"And you miss?"

She questioned "Sure" You said.

The waiter then poured both of you guys wine. "If theres anymore needed just call me!" As the waiter left.

"Are you enjoying the food?" Arlecchino mentioned as she cut her steak. "Don't worry about the payment, i'll take care of it." She takes a bite of her steak,

"Yes, and its very delicious! Thank you for paying for the meal. I really appreciate it!" You took a spoonful of mashed potatoes.

Arlecchino giggles, "You're very adorable.." She smiles at you, you get flustered and more red from the compliments shes been giving you the whole night. "Say, why not spend the night with me today.. You saw my bio, am i right.. "

You choked on your food. "U-uhm, well-" She coughed.

She then laughs. "The spots yours Baby.." And gave you a napkin. Of course, if you want to take it, there would be a deal..

You wondered.. "Deal?" Questioning and wondering what the "deal" was.

"Why yes, i pay for everything.. While you pay it back with your body.." She said, looking at you. "So, Lumine. Would you take the deal?"

You knew she was rich and could buy you everything.. It wouldn't hurt, right? "Thats all? Pft- Why not..!" You said nervously.

"Good to hear that.. Your first payment will be tonight for this meal, is that a deal? I'll give you a preview on what you'll be doing every night after every purchase you bought with my card.." She smirked. You gulped, wondering how she'd be tonight..

After both of you finished your meal, she offered a hand and made you enter her Limousine. "Please, step in M'lady." Opening the door for you to enter. You entered her car and sat quietly, her driver already waiting behind the wheel, she sits next to you. She caresses your right thigh and said "My, you have soft thighs.. I wonder if it'll hurt when i mark you up tonight.." And smiled, through the ride she continuous to caress your thigh the whole ride.

"We have arrived, Miss Knave." Her driver said, the driver then got out the car and opened the door for Arlecchino, she gets up and opens your door.

"W-why thank you.." You get out of the vehicle. Arlecchino then bows and once again kisses your hand.

"Follow me.. You remember that you'll have to pay for the dinner i payed, am i right?" Offering her hand waiting for you to hold hers so she can lead you to her room. You gulped, a few seconds later, she leads you to her mansion, the butler opening the door for both of you. Once you both entered her maids bowed once they saw her enter the door. "Follow me to my room now.." She leads you upstairs to her room, all themed with dark red like a blood colour, her bed all neat and color black. "Don't worry about the others hearing us tonight.. My rooms sound proof, Darling."

"So, uhm, what will we be doing?.." You questioned..

"Oh its obvious darling.. You'll be my sex toy every night you spend my money in exchange.." She begins to wander your body with her hands, "Your body is so perfect and petite.. All pretty, fragile, and soft.. I wonder if me giving you hickeys and bite marks will ruin your pretty body.." She bit her lip, already wanting to start. But she wanted to tease you more, wanting to put you in the mood for the long night you guys will be doing.

"Well i could say that's a compliment.." She places a hand on your right cheek, she suddenly kisses you. You couldn't reject it, she was a great kisser.. "A-arle" You sneaked as she kissed you.

"Yes?" She pushes you to her bed, making you lay down. "You're so beautiful.. I can't wait to dig into you tonight.." She kisses you once again, slipping her tongue.. "My.. You taste quiet lovely, do you taste more lovely down there? I wonder.." She rips your dress off, making you only wearing a bra and your panties..

"H-hey!" You angrily shouted at her, your dress was a prized possession! (Brokie)

"Don't worry darling.. I'll be buying any dress you'd want everyday.." She bites your waste, making you moan. "Such cute noises.. I want to hear more of it.." She goes lower until she reaches your thigh, "God i just want to give you marks to know your owned by me.." She then of course, does and leaves hickeys on both of your thighs. You moaned quietly, whimpering from the bites while covering your mouth. "Don't hide those cute noises from me now.." She grabs both of your wrists and presses it down the bed, making you unable to cover your little moans. Once she held your wrists, she began to tease your folds..

"Nnnh.. A-arle..!" You whimpered, she smirked while drawing circles above your panties.

"Wet already? I might just have the best snack of my life.." She lifts your bra up making your boobs spill, she also ripped your panties. (Sharp ahh nails, good luck handling her fingering) "Oh i can't wait to dig into you now.." She played with your boobs using her right hand, while she licks your clit. You moaned from the pleasure you were getting, you were wet and wanting her to insert her fingers or even a strap in you already. "Cum for me Darling.." As she inserted two fingers inside your pussy.

"A-ah.. hah.." Your body trembled as you came all over her two fingers. She pulls out her fingers and begins to lick it, not wasting one bit of your cum.

"You're so delicious.. I want more of you.." She opens a drawer full of sex toys and a box tied with a ribbon.. "May you open this?" She smirked and gave you the box. To your surprise, it was lingerie clothing.. All white and thin, showing most of your boobs and skin.. "Surprised? Come on, put it on. You don't want to be a bad girl for me, right?"

With a gulp you went to the bathroom, you slowly wore it and peaked again in the box. It was a butt plug with a crystal heart at the other end. Your body flustered seeing the clothing and plug, you left the bathroom while wearing the lingerie clothes she gave you. When you peeked outside you saw her putting all the toys you guys will be using the rest of the Night..

"You look so beautiful in that dress dear.. I can't wait to ruin it.." She saw you were hiding something behind your back, you were holding the butt plug, trying to hide it from her. "What's that you're hiding?" She questioned.

"Nothing, don't worry!.." You worried, while nervously hiding it.

"Don't lie to me.." She peaks behind your back, "Oh, a butt plug.. how convenient!" She smiled, "Come here.." Patting the spot next to her, "Lay down on your stomach on me." She took the butt plug from your hands and you followed her orders. "Naughty girl, trying to hide it hm? How about we make use of it and not hide it now.." She adds lube onto the plug, and slowly inserts the butt plug inside your ass.

"N-nnh..!" You whimpered, you never had anal before. But it feels like she'd be doing all two of your holes the whole night. She finally inserts the whole butt plug inside of you,

"Good girl.. We're just starting, I hope you're ready for how I'll be the whole time." She spanks your ass making you yelp. "Now, lay down the bed while I take care of you, my doll." You lay quietly on the bed, pretending not to see the sex toys next to you, a few moments later. She took out her strap, it was 5 inches.. Maybe you could handle it? "Hm, since you're just starting.. I'll give you the smallest one out of the straps I have.." It was bright red, with black being the core color.

"Be a good girl for me and I'll give you all your wishes.." She teases the top of her strap on your clit, making an up and down motion. She wants you to be wet and ready to take her strap all on. You groaned from the teasing, giving her signals to put it in already. "This won't hurt.." She thrusts half of the strap inside you, you moaned and screamed. Tears came running down as she thrust it fully in you.

"You're taking me so well.." She thrusts slowly but begins to progressively get faster and faster each thrust, your pussy swells from the constant thrusting of her strap. The pleasure was great, but your pussy wasn't in the best condition. She went faster and faster each time she put it in, all you could do was moan, and whimper. Your eyes, filled with tears while you grabbed on her back, even though your nails hurt her. She didn't mind at all, your eyes were in the back of your head at this point, it was a surprise seeing how rough Arlecchino was.

"A-arle! F-fuck...-" You hit your climax, your body trembled while she breathe heavily. Her strap, still inside your pussy. She suddenly slowly pulls out her strap,

"You took me so well." She bites your neck making you moan, "Are you ready for another round?" You slowly tried to shake your head saying no, but it didn't work. "Too bad darling, I already planned to start a new round." She positioned you into a doggy style while aiming at your ass. "Hm, I forgot you still have your gorgeous butt plug on.." She removes it, a *Plop!* Sound. You groaned from the sudden interaction in your ass, "Now.." she aimed her strap on your ass, hope you're ready again, princess."

She puts in the tip in your ass, "You're so tight.." She thrusts it in slowly, taking her time while you whimpered. It was your first time taking anal, same as having sex that is. "Both of your holes are so tight, i cant wait to stretch it everytime." She smirked and slaps your ass, you groaned while she continues thrusting in you. You groaned the whole way, until she inserts it fully in you. "You're eating my strap so well, Darling.." She thrusts slowly but surely, trying to make you get used to it. The whole time you were just groaning and whimper, even it was slow, you were begging her to go slowly. Her eyes focused on your back, she suddenly grabs your waist and begins to thrust faster. Every thrust hurt, but was amazing. You couldn't get enough of it, "Enjoying? What a slut." She thrusts faster and faster while your tears rolled down your chin, you were practically screaming her name every few thrusts. "Who owns you?"

"Y-you do! A-ah!" You screamed while she thrusted fast.

"That's right, i do." She went closer to your neck and bit you, making you yelp more. Her mouth wonders your waist while she gives you hickeys all over, at the same time thrusting in and out of your ass. It was painful, but enjoyable. "God, You're such a slut for me."

She finally stopped after seeing you hit your climax once again, "The bed sheet is all wet.." She slowly pulls out the strap out of you, your whole body, shaking while your ass and pussy twitched from the thrusts she did all night. She kisses your forehead while you lay down the bed, "Have rest now, my love.. There will be more tomorrow." She said and tucks you in bed, your eyes rested the whole night.

THE END!

Thank you so much for reading, if you liked it please leave a like<3

My apologies for being dead..

😭 (I need commissions since i need 100 dollars for a new pc)