knavesflames

[knavesflames]

You okay

mm, getting there

hbu? how ominous to receive such a message haha

[knavesflames]

hopefully we don‘t have no babies.

pt.2 of kiss it, bit it, can i fit it?

pairing: arlecchino x fem!reader

context: she is navigating you with slow and gentle steps (at first) through new found territory (aka sesbian lex)

cw: modern au, experienced dilf!arle, implied age gap (reader is in mid/late twenties), she yaps you an ear off about her spiders, pet names, praising, arle teaches you how to properly finger yourself ngh, mirrors, voyeurism, strap-on, rough sex, dumbification, arle is called peruere

word count: 3.8k

art credits: saditstic beauty: side story a

birthday special for you guys now WHERE are my presents. also thank you to angel and kitty who more or less inspired me for this continuation ngh. i have to be honest, i outdid myself with this one. have with over 3k words of sesbian lex.

„are you certain you don‘t want to feed her? she is quite tame for her species.“

you watched the eight-legged creature crawl over her tatted skin in sheer horror.

how did she come up with the name „bambi“ for this monster of a spider?

„i-i‘m pretty certain. i‘d rather just… watch you feed her from a safe distance…!“, taking a step back from the woman and her…. pet. well, one of her various pets. 

you almost died of heart failure the moment you stepped foot into the entomologist‘s basement. terrariums lined up against the walls, everywhere. there had to be at least twenty of the damned creatures here. and today happened to be feeding day so you got to watch your date hand-feed them one by one. and of course, she didn’t leave out any introductions nor did she spare you the details of the individual species.

„this beauty is called a cyriopagopus lividus or rather a cobalt blue tarantula. they‘re known for their extraordinary blue coat and got often mixed up with the omothymus violaceopes even though they differentiate quite a lot from each other in my opinion. from size, color up to their natural habitat and attitude, they could not be more different. this one is actually a bit lively for her species-“ as if the damned thing seemed to understand her word for word, it took off from her palm and rushed up her arm where it abruptly stopped right on her shoulder, „my, the name freminet gave you really does suit you, speedy…“

yet your heart was threatening to beat out of your chest, not because of the sudden scare. rather because she just seemed so… different to you… how skilled she was handling the spiders to her barely lacking knowledge about each and every species she collected over the years. she seemed like a totally different person in that moment. and quite frankly- nothing turned you on more than watching those inked hands putting the haired monster back into its enclosure.

„how come you are so fond of them…?“

you almost regretted your question immediately at the way she mustered you all of a sudden. hesitant. as if she was weighing her options for the unknown. 

„i… i‘m sorry if that was too personal… you don‘t have to tell me if you don‘t feel comfortable with sharing that information with me…!“, you stammered as you tried lifting up the blanket of unease covering your heart. yet, peruere merely shook her head before guiding you out of her basement, a hand resting on your lower back when you walked up the stairs.

„i am not uncomfortable… not with you. it‘s just… it is not exactly the happiest story. it wouldn‘t be in my best interest to ruin tonight’s mood.“, she flashed you one of her rare smiles, but something sad clung to the way her eyes stared into yours.

you‘ve only been seeing each other for a good two months now, none of you dared to breach the topic of your past yet, her children had still to make your acquaintance, too. however, peruere showed great effort. daily phone calls, occasional dinner dates, randomly picking you up from your workplace whenever her schedule allowed it. she was truly, truly interested in you. and that fact caused your stomach to hit one cartwheel after the other.

who expected the 38-year old woman to still be so full of love? love she wants to share with you. 

„fine… another time then.“, you mirrored her soft expression, not wanting to pressure her any further about this topic. 

peruere could feel something in her ribcage tighten at the sight of you. goodness, you brought out a side in her that she didn‘t even know still existed in the first place. you made her feel young again. and she loved you for it.

she hadn‘t loved in a long time. 

„it is way past midnight already… do you still want to stay the night or do you want me to drive you back home?“, a tattooed hand came up to gently tuck a few lost hair strands back behind your ear.

with her children staying at certain ginger uncle‘s house tonight, the night belonged to you. and only you.

„well… what would you prefer? please, be honest… i wouldn‘t mind either options.“, instinctively you leaned into her warm palm, letting her thumb caress your soft skin as if it were the last time.

she looked like the moon on a lonely night yet her touch equaled the feeling of being kissed by the sun itself. warm. trusted. gentle. 

„i‘d love for you to stay the night…“, and so you did.

when you walked into her bedroom for the first time after going through your evening routine in her bathroom beforehand, you didn’t know what to expect. however, you weren‘t surprised, nor disappointed. 

the theme of the room was kept in a gentle dim light, a king-sized bed with simple white-black bedding was resting in the middle of the room. other than that the only things you could spot was a closet, a mirror and two nightstands. if compared to her kids rooms you‘d realize her own little abode is significantly smaller, probably because she doesn’t see a good point in taking up a lot of space which she only frequents for precisely one thing: sleeping. and something else.

otherwise it looked spotless. not a single corn of dust in sight. the sheets were laying neatly folded on top of the mattress and you could make out the soft scent of a room freshener clinging to the air.

„i apologize if my bedroom seems to not meet your expectations… i like to keep things simple.“, with her back turned to you, peruere opened her closet to fish some new sleepwear out for herself. 

but you were too focused. too focused on the fact that she was standing half-naked before you. her back muscles evidence of a strict diet and years of exercise. and you could spot three names imprinted underneath her right shoulder.

Lyney & Lynette 02.02

Freminet 09.24.

something in your chest tightened at the sight of her kid‘s names tattooed onto her skin. she really loved those rascals with her entire being even if they weren’t hers by blood, they will always be a part of her.

„do you have sleepwear to change into?“

„oh, yes i do, but thank you…“, you watch her put on a plain black shirt and a pair of red-black checked pants and now you are convinced. she looks handsome in literally anything.

the older woman didn’t expect a lot when she turned around but who would’ve thought seeing her sweet date in a tight tanktop and some shorts would blow her fucking mind. you weren’t even wearing anything sexual, yet her thoughts ran rampage inside her head while she tried to make an effort to avoid looking at anything else other than your face.

„so… ready for bed?“

„mhm… gosh, look at that pretty pussy…“

it took the two of you not even five minutes until the first layers of clothes came off.

which happened to be your shorts and panties. you were laying underneath her with spread legs and your own fingers working up and down your cunt, you wanted to give her a show.

but the longer you tried pleasuring yourself, the bigger the frown on peruere‘s face got.

the woman had precisely one question on her mind: did someone ever teach you how to properly finger yourself? you might as well be trying your luck at a lottery ticket the way your fingers… fumbled your folds. you weren‘t even wet enough when you tried to insert your index- and middle-finger.

„stop right there.“

„but-“

„stop. you will only end up hurting yourself.“, crimson eyes watched you remove your hand from your cunt as you tried masking the utter humiliation she just exposed you to.

„don‘t look away.“, with her hand grabbing your chin, she moved your head back to face her directly, „did someone ever teach you how to properly pleasure yourself?“

„h-huh? what do you mean?“

„all the men you have been with before, did they ever bother to finger you correctly or at least show you how to do it yourself?“, your ribcage is suddenly too small for your lungs at the vulgar words she‘s using.

„i… no… n-not that i remember… why are you asking?“

she looked at you for a few seconds before sighing and scooting back, tugging you up by your hand, „how am i supposed to sleep knowing such a pretty girl can‘t even get off all by herself… come here.“, she patted the space between her legs.

just what did she want to do?

when obliged to her request it almost immediately clicked when you were met with the reflection in front of you.

you were sat before a mirror. in her lap. butt-naked.

„y-you want to show me…“

„dear me, so smart… that is exactly what i want to do.“, peruere grabbed you by the plush of your right thigh before pulling your leg over her own and spreading you open in the process.

„so, here‘s how things will operate from here.“, she wasted no time and used her two fingers to spread your cunt open, „i will first give you a little… demonstration… and then it is your turn. how does that sound, hm?“

„th-that sounds humiliating, if i am being honest…“

„it isn‘t. at all. i am not offering this to make fun of you. please don‘t get me wrong, doll. i just want you to know how to take care of yourself the next time we‘re on a phone call.“, she let her lips ghost over the sensitive skin of your neck, your pussy now significantly more slick and your clit aching.

oh, that phone call. just thinking about it caused you to slightly whimper.

„i… o-okay fine… show me…“

„first of all you need to look. not at your face or mine, i need you to observe your pussy when i‘m demonstrating. understood?“, her voice had something stern in it. something that shouldn‘t be allowed to be so incredibly hot.

„understood…“

„good girl. now, first of all, you want to take your middle- and ring finger, that way it is easier for you to get as deep as possible when you are using them on yourself. got it so far?“, she waited for your nod before continuing.

„the main reason why i stopped you earlier was because you were way, way too dry. you need to be slick enough to easily wet your fingers in order for them to slide in with little to no problems. sex or masturbation is never supposed to hurt. if it does you are doing something wrong.“, her expression changed into something softer the more nervous you became by watching her fingertips circle over your sensitive clit, „shhhhh… just follow my fingers, look at how wet you are getting by just a few rubs to your clit…“, using those same fingers to spread you open by your folds. the whimper found its way over your lips all on itself.

„a-ah… th-this is embarrassing, peruere…“, you mumbled before turning your head away once again. 

but the entomologist wasn‘t having it.

„if you can send me whole videos of you bouncing your pussy on a vibrator, you can also watch me fingering you in a mirror.“, she whispered almost dangerously low into your ear, her tone laced with something sinister that caused your body to grow hot… and your cunt to painfully clench around nothing.

„let me propose an offer.“, just then, her fingertips slowly sneaked their way into your slit, „if you sit through this lesson without any more complaining and manage to properly get off on your own fingers… there‘s a little reward waiting for you… alright?“, her voice came out silky, reduced to a soft pur as she hummed, pleased to find your eyes fixed back onto the wet mess between your legs.

„a-alright…“, your breathing became heavier the deeper her fingers pushed in until she was knuckles-deep inside your warmth.

„good girl. feel that?“, slowly she began to feel up your walls that were gripping onto her so tightly. peruere only chuckled, „missed me, hm?“

„hah… hngh… o-of course i did…“, you said, as you pressed yourself more into her chest. she felt so warm. so comfortable. the faint note of her usual cologne still clung to her but it lit up a flame of desire inside of you that you only ever experienced with her.

„adorable… we have several options now. you could start to move your hand back and forth…“, she demonstrated by pumping her fingers slowly in and out of you, drawing a moan from you in the process, „or curl up your fingers and search for your g-spot. it usually sits two to three inches behind your vaginal opening, right…“, electricity suddenly shoots down your spine as her two fingertips delicately press and rub into your spot, „…here.“

„o-oh archons-! h-how-?!“, you clenched the fabric of her pants in your hand as she continued to massage the sensitive spot inside of you with ease.

„after knowledge comes experience, darling. you could also combine both methods and just…“, she had you squirming around in her lap by the first pump of her fingers, curling them up each time she slid them back into your hole, „…fingerfuck yourself however you please. you can vary the pace, the motions, just whatever feels better to you.“

something, something with motions… speed… how did she expect you to pay attention with her fingers showing you what heaven truly looked like?

you were so focused on these experienced fingers working their way inside your pussy that you didn‘t even process her next words.

„and now it is your turn, sweetheart.“, the whine you let out when she retreated almost brought the older woman to her knees. 

you were just too cute in her lap. cute and unfucked. too unfucked for her liking.

„m-my turn…?“

„how am i supposed to know that my little lesson bore any fruits without a test? come on. make good use of those fingers now and pleasure yourself.“, her voice was dripping with professionalism, as if she were talking to a student.

despite the humiliation being still very much present, you obliged to her demand without as much as a simple nod. moving your fingers down, carefully sliding them through your wetness, „a-and what about my r-reward…?“

crimson eyes were fixated on the way you circled your clit in the reflection of the mirror before she leaned back, supporting herself on the mattress with her arms, „so impatient… i will only properly reward you once you manage to get off. on your own. after all, i don‘t reward slackers.“

archons, she was strict.

but did her tone only add further to the heat resting between your thighs?

fuck, it did.

and you needed that strap-on badly.

so you watched her expression falter for the slightest moment when you shoved your fingers back inside your warmth and they went in so easily. you gasped at how smoothly they went inside you, how welcoming you were compared to a few minutes ago, that you leaned your head back onto her shoulder when you started to search for your spot.

easier said than done.

„i… i-i can‘t i find it, peruere…“

„you can, angel. it should sit right above your fingertips now. come on, we don‘t give up so easily here. think about your reward…“

she didn‘t tell you that she will still pound your cute pussy senseless, even if you fail. 

she just won‘t be as gentle with you.

„i-i don‘t have as much experience a-as you do…“, your voice trembled with your growing frustration when you missed it yet again. 

„darling, i‘m a whole decade older than you. i assure you we are getting-“, peruere watched your legs jolt as a moan rung through the bedroom, „…there. my, was that so hard now?“, a knowing smirk played around her lips as she watched you fall apart in her lap. all on your own.

this was different. so much different from someone else doing the work, it was even slightly better than that. you knew what motion felt the best already, the pace you wanted to set and quite honestly- you regretted not looking into your own pleasure like this way sooner. but having a 38 year old overworked woman lead you to the right path… oh, what a wonderful world you were living in.

your orgasm felt like warm hug embracing you, washing gently over you but leaving you nonetheless breathless, aching for more.

„my, look at that… aren‘t you just the sweetest little thing…?“, she didn‘t wait for a reply when she moved over to her nightstand and fished out… her very own strap-on.

„h-huh…?“

„what? don‘t tell me you changed your mind about the reward, doll…“, and truth was that she just couldn‘t wait any longer to fuck you into the mattress. with how needy your eyes were still looking at her, the way you rubbed your slightly trembling thighs together, your fingers already pulled out but the hand was still resting between them.

like a little lamb waiting for its sacrifice.

and she needed you. bad. she wanted to make up for the years you wasted with the wrong partners, showing you what you‘ve been missing out on your entire life.

her.

„n-no no! i-i didn‘t change my mind at all-!“, you crawled towards her side of the bed where she was currently standing when she started buckling up her fake dick.

the sight of you kneeling before her on the bed, tits pressed together in that skimpy top of yours forced her to wet her lips. 

you will be the end of her.

„lay back. legs spread. mhm, just like that.“, she had to suppress a groan when you exposed your soaked pussy to her eyes once again. the way she could make out your nervous breathing by how fast your chest rose and fell back down. you were excited.

„good girl. now show off that pretty cunt to me.“, her throat visibly moved when you spread your folds open for her once more. one moment she was standing, the next she dropped to her knees, hungry lips roaming over your warmth, a tongue greedily lapping up your juices as muffled groans filled the tense bedroom air.

it was almost a reflex when your hand found home between her hair strands, pushing her further into you when you couldn’t stop the sounds of pure ecstasy any longer.

yet, peruere didn‘t devote her mouth to your pussy much longer, already leaving a hot trail of messy kisses up to your tummy, tattooed hands working the fabric of your top over your tits, giving them both a treatment consisting of biting your nipple and making sure to cover those beautiful girls in lovebites beyond recognition.

„o-oh god- fuuuuck… p-please…!“, you whined, whimpered, whatever. hands tracing the outlines of her trained biceps when she fucking finally towered over you, lips swollen from treating your body like a temple, crimson eyes dark with nothing else other than carnal desire.

„you want me? you want my cock inside that tight pussy of yours, hm?“, she purred as she grabbed your right leg and placing it over her shoulder when you felt her rubbing the shaft through your slickness.

the way you shook your head up and down like a total maniac was all she needed. 

„then you shall have me.“

often peruere didn‘t look like she was approaching the 40 years mark.

but those hips made sure to remind you of it yet again. slamming so perfectly into you, her cock settling each and every time against your cervix when she bottoms out, like a puzzle piece falling into place.

she swore she could feel you gripping onto the silicone, how you sucked her in as if you were about to starve and despite not even being penetrated sexually herself- she was groaning from the deepest pits of her throat. not caring about your juices staining the sheets underneath you or her sleeping pants.

„p-peruere…!! p-peru-!!“, you mewled in the sweetest tone as you grabbed into the sheets until your knuckles turned white, tears forming in the corner of your eyes from how deep she was penetrating you from the inside.

„all those before me, did they ever fuck you as good as me? did they ever have you screaming over their cock like this, hm?“, the both of you overheard the sound of the bed creaking underneath her almost animalistic pace if it weren‘t for your skin slapping together. you could almost mistake it for a round of applause.

however, your answer was clear.

„n-no-! th-they didn‘t- Hngh!!“, your spine melted into a beautiful arch when she angled her hips to go after that one certain spot, stars already dangling around your vision from how well she was fucking you.

not even your climax stopped her. it only further motivated her to press your legs up until your knees were almost touching your ears so she could rut as deeply as possibly into you.

she hated how she couldn‘t get pregnant more than anything else right now. nobody ever made her feel this wanted as you in that moment. how you begged for her, pleading for salvation in form of her cock and what not. you wanted her fuck you into this mattress for eternity, to turn you into her own personal doll to play with.

„mine… mine, all mine…“, giving into the urge to kiss you stupid almost made her cum herself. the moans that were swallowed by her own lips, your arms snaking around her neck to keep her pressed against your body as she held your face in her hands as if you were but a precious diamond she needed to be careful with. a strong contradict to how she was plowing into you and how strongly the room smelled of sex.

and if your place was underneath her with seven inches filling you up, then so be it.

your world almost shattered after yet another exhilarating high when she pulled out, not even the slightest hint of her being out of breath yet.

„don‘t look at me like that, sweetheart. i‘m not even remotely done with you yet.“, her biceps strained as she picked you up as if you were nothing but lightweight to her before flipping you over on your stomach, „hips up.“, a hand patted the fat of your hips and you obliged more than happily.

a pillow was placed underneath you and you also dragged another one over to rest your head on. you knew she was about to rock your whole world.

„comfortable?“

„m-mhm…“

„then hold on tight.“

[knavesflames]

SUCKING ARLECCHINO’S STRAP

guys i am so back 😎 first piece of smut writing since the surgery so let us hope it meets the standard of my lovely followers :] i will get back into posting regularly and i will still try to get to requests (but like i said tumblr deleted a lot of them for no reason)

this was promised ages ago to @celuere so mwah here you go pookie i hope you enjoy fr

word count: 1.5k

contents: strap sucking, degradation, condescension, dumbification (a little bit..?), arlecchino is mean, you like it

nsft utc!

Sitting on your knees, a pillow graciously given to you to place under them, you look up at the woman in front of you with wide eyes. You’re bare, completely stripped naked. Your clothes sit in a crumpled pile in the middle of the room, taken off painfully slowly while her nails gently raked across your skin when revealed. You pleaded gently for her to take her clothes off too, but she denied with a sharp “No. Be quiet, doll.”

You know she’s got the strap. You could see it under her dress pants. You noticed in the middle of the evening, when she leaned back from the dinner table to ‘stretch’. Her eyes had gazed at you, a perfectly sculpted eyebrow raising when your lips parted in shock. What were you supposed to say, in the middle of a restaurant? Absolutely nothing, that’s what. She had left you clenching your thighs together in desperation, barely focusing on the pasta in front of you.

Slowly, Arlecchino stepped closer to you, finally shrugging off her blazer. It hits the floor with a soft thump. Her blackened hand moves to the belt she has on, unbuckling it expertly. She doesn’t look at you.

“Hands.” She utters, and in turn, you don’t even think before your wrists come together and raise in the air. She hums in approval, the leather quickly wrapping around your wrists and tightening, keeping you restrained. “What an obedient little whore you are tonight.”

Arlecchino finally focuses on the zipper and her eyes finally meet yours as she unzips her trousers. She does it so slowly it has you practically whining already, your hips rocking in the air to try and get some sort of friction. You’re unsure if you’ll get it. She’s feeling mean tonight, and you asked her to be extra mean the next time she fucked you. You wanted to try it, you said. She’s more than happy to oblige. Plus, not even she can deny the way something burns in her at the way you look at her when she calls you those names.

When the strap is finally revealed, you’re immediately raising your body, lips parting. Your breath shakes, a mix of anticipation and desire to please her.

“No.” The firm command shocks you, freezing you in your place. Why-? Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, your eyes meeting hers.

“I beg your pardon?” You stutter out, a slight smile gracing your face at the way her head tilts. She’s bemused, or at least, acting like it.

“Then beg,” You search her for any sign that she’s joking, that she isn’t going to humiliate you by making you beg on your knees. “You wanted this. You know what to say if you dislike it.”

You feel the arousal embarrassment rise in you, and you open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. You can barely meet her eyes. She’s correct. This is what you wanted, and it’s working.

“You won’t say it though, will you, sweet thing? You don’t have to pretend you’re not thinking all sorts of whorish things. Isn’t that what you are?”

“I-“

“Answer.”

You swallow. You take a breath, eyes diverting her gaze, moving to look at the dresser behind her. There’s a mirror, your skin care, Vaseline. “Yes,” you whisper. “I am.”

“Say it, doll.” Urges Arlecchino, or rather, commands. “Tell me what you are.”

“A whore,” it’s humiliating in the most wonderful way, in a way that makes your entire body burn hotter than the flames that course through the woman in front of you. “For you. Always for you.”

“Oh, what a good girl you are!” How condescending. How easy it is for her to make you feel so stupid. How embarrassing it is that you like it so much. The idea that it’s so easy for her to push every single button of yours, even the ones you didn’t know you had. “You’ve been so stressed, haven’t you, baby?”

“Mhm.”

“Hm? Use your words, pet. I know you can.” It’s a command hiding behind sweet encouragement. If there’s one thing she’s good at, it’s confusing you like this. In the best way, really. You look up at her and you’re unsure whether she’ll be soft and gentle or commanding and cruel. She switches between them, and she’s fucking good at it, you’ve learned.

“Yes. I’ve been so stressed, it’s all just been too much an—“

“I know, darling, I know.” Arlecchino cuts you off, her thumb raising and resting on your bottom lip. Her nail grazes the skin between gentle dresses before she tilts your head back. Just enough so she can easily slide her thumb past your lips. When the wetness of your tongue coats the tip of her thumb, Arlecchino sigh, eyes closing for a brief moment before they focus back on you. She waits for your reaction. She knows it’s coming.

And it does. Your lips close around her thumb, your tongue swirls around the tip of it. Your eyes don’t leave hers, not once, and they flutter when she pushes her thumb just a little deeper into your mouth. Red crosses stare down at you, looking almost bored. She isn’t, of course, you can tell that by the way her jaw feathers every so often. Arlecchino watches you until she decides that you’ve gotten desperate enough. The way your thighs keep rubbing together and your hands are squeezing into fists within the constraints of the belt around your wrists tells her you’ve become more desperate than she’s often seen you. Her finger pulls away from your mouth, a string of saliva connecting it and your lips. Her eyebrow arches at the sight of it, and she shakes her head slightly, tutting in faux distaste.

“So messy. Can you not control yourself?” Arlecchino doesn’t wait for an answer, and her middle and ring finger slide into your mouth just easily. The movements she makes are the same, sliding across your tongue and to the back of your throat, gathering spit before pulling back just before it gets too much for you. When she deems that she’s collected a good amount of saliva, she removes her fingers once more. She watches how her fingers glisten in the light, almost reflective against her dark fingers. You wonder what exactly she’s doing, and your eyebrows furrow as you open your mouth to ask-

You should have known. She uses what’s on her hand to lubricate the silicone, hand stroking it before letting out a small groan. Has she convinced herself she can feel things? It doesn’t matter.

“You’re so pretty on your knees for me. Open up, hm?” Her velvety voice no louder than a whisper, her other hand runs through your hair, giving a gentle tug to urge you to part your lips again. You do, and for the first time in this entire exchange, her lips quirk up into a smile when her strap slides into your mouth with ease.

“What a whore. Was it that easy for you to take it?” The question is rhetorical, of course. Your head moves forward in an attempt to take her as deep as you can, but she stops you with another sharp tug of your hair.

“No. Whores don’t think, do they? Why don’t you just sit, look pretty and enjoy yourself while I fuck that gorgeous face of yours?”

You don’t reply. You can’t, not with the weight of her strap resting on your tongue. You blink in response, brain quickly trying to comprehend what she’s saying. You can’t form a single coherent thought.

A harsh laugh cuts you out of your daze. Your eyes focus back on her once again, tearing when her hips give a harsh thrust, the tip of her hitting the back of your throat.

“How fucking pathetic. You can’t think? Aw, that’s okay, pet. You don’t need to think. Just keep taking me as well as you are.” Her words are matched with another thrust of her hips. And another. She continues, hands in your hair to keep you still. Arlecchino is breathless as she watches the material of the strap disappear completely beyond your lips, reappearing covered in more and more obscene amounts of saliva. Every few movements or so, she’ll stay, refusing to pull out until your body arches and you whine, gag or cough. She laughs when you do, degrading words mixed with pants and the occasional grunt.

Only when your hands, still bound by the belt, come up to tap on her thigh twice does she relent, slowing to a stop before pulling out of you completely. Your chin is a mess. Or rather, your entire face. With watering eyes and a wet lower face, you look utterly wrecked. Despite this, you find yourself laughing. It’s a hoarse, shaky laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. Her hand comes to your face again, softer this time, thumb beginning to wipe the mess she had caused you to make.

“You should buy an ejaculating one, Peruere,” you whisper, snorting quietly at the way her eyes widen and she freezes in her place. “Don’t you think?”

“Ah. Perhaps.”

[knavesflames]

prepare for trouble!

and make it double.

pairing: peruere x fem!reader x arlecchino

context: bored to death in a never ending meeting, your husband surely knows how to entertain you.

cw: arle uses her fancy domain trick on you, threesome, bossform arle, vaginal fingering, riding, bondage, cuckolding (kinda?????), squirting, degrading, size kink, a lil bit unrealistic but everything is possible in your husband’s mindscape, also capitano mention because i know he is a gentleman, not proofread

wc: 3k

art creds: drunken my boss

A/N: arle x reader tag has been so quiet lately… time for elise and me to change that. and i apologize for taking this long, lots of work drama this week and i really wanted this fic to be perfect and therefore rewrote a lot of stuff, added paragraphs where i thought we were moving on too fast, etc. because i didn’t want to look back at this work with regret albrkwnrbwkne

so i hope you enjoy!

twenty…

twenty-one…

twenty-two…

twenty-three.

that would make twenty-three windows, two doors, three chandeliers and thirty other attendees in this hall.

you and your husband not counted.

latter one was sat directly opposite of you, her attention actually focused on the conversation at hand rather than you, how you were practically melting into your chair the longer you had to listen to pierro‘s plan regarding… well, you would know if you cared to listen.

even childe was listening, usually he‘d be the first to play tic-tac-toe with you on a random napkin but tonight you were all on your own. and only celestia knows how much longer you will endure this torture.

you ran out of ways to entertain your mind long ago, counting the tiles on the ceiling, the doors, the windows, making up ridiculous stories between the present politicians, diplomats and generals and even going as far as to braid capitano‘s hair to your left. you were surprised he even let you, only sighing before he brushed his silky hair over his shoulder so your hands can have better access. you should really ask him about the conditioner he is using…

your eyes drifted over to your husband once more, red nails slowly drumming on the graphite surface of the table stretching over the hall. her tie was slightly out of place, urging you to bend over and fix its position or untie it completely. plopping the buttons of her black shirt open one by open as you worked your way down her body, letting your tongue glide over the surface of her abs down to the trail of black hair and-

crimson x’s piercing suddenly through you ripped you right out of your fantasy. of course she‘d notice your staring, an eyebrow propped up.

„everything alright?“, she didn’t need to speak those words out, but she only added to your frustration with how her eyes narrowed at your obvious flushed cheeks. you could have sworn her eyes lit up for the shortest moment, as if she‘d looked right into your head before the corners of her lips quirked up.

she really could read you like an open book.

yet her eyes weren‘t leaving yours. only sparing the cleavage of your dress a small glance.

and something shifted in the air around you when a snap echoed through the walls from somewhere far away.

you merely blinked before you found yourself no longer in the cold conference room but rather in front of the bright gloom of a crimson moon. 

with nobody present except your husband, seated on her balemoon throne and a smile so lethal plastered onto her face that caused your core to slowly melt.

„bored out of your mind, my dove?“, her voice came out as an echo, ringing through seemingly endless realm as she gestured you to come closer with a crook of her middle and index finger.

„i… arle, what happened? where did everyone else go…?“, with nervous steps you walked up to her, like a sacrifice about to get offered.

„do not worry about them, love. and certainly don‘t break your pretty little over head over it. think of this as a… secret room you‘ve found yourself in.“, she uncrossed her legs, spreading them right as you reached her, „you certainly found a liking earlier to my tie, didn‘t you?“

„oh, uh… y-yes… yes i did, it looked out of place.“, you reached out almost instinctively but instead of fixing it… your fingers got to work on loosening up the fabric. she did not seem surprised.

„hm? you want it gone altogether? i‘m not refusing, dearest. go on.“, black hands got a hold of your ass and pulled you right on her lap. 

your breath hitched when your clothed cunt came in contact with her crotch. seems like your shameless staring did wonders to her cock already. impressive if you happened to be a stranger. but as her wife, the knave always had little to no self control for you. 

you let the tie hang loose around her neck before you moved over to the buttons of her shirt. arlecchino did not stop you.

„my, are you in a haste?“

„no, i just-“

„hands off then. i‘d like to see if you‘re wearing the undergarments i bought you last week. go on.“, a black hand engulfed yours to stop you from proceeding any further and the sudden change in her tone caused your pussy to throb, oh you were so incredibly underfucked lately.

and it has only been two weeks since the last time she took you to bed.

but truth be told, you were in fact not wearing any pretty lingerie today when you pulled up the skirt of your dress because who in their right mind would think they’ll get pulled into their husband’s mindscape in the middle of a highly confidential meeting???

she only clicked her tongue, eyes displaying the obvious disappointment at the sight of your plain white panties. with a visible stain.

„a shame… i was looking forward to how the purple lace would compliment your pretty body, my flower… but alas…“, she wasted no time with rubbing her thumb over the damp spot on the cotton, tickling a gasp right out of your mouth, „i‘d take my wife wearing anything.“

those words were followed by your slip being pulled aside and caused your heart to set out for a beat, her fingers were quick to run through the slickness covering your folds.

„hah… a-anything…?“, you couldn‘t stop your hips from pushing further into her hand, fingers dancing around your aching hole. oh, she was teasing you. maybe even making you beg for it.

„ma cherie, i would show you seven different ways to heaven even if you wore a trashbag in front of me.“, tone as hard as a rock (also as something else…) and you knew she wasn‘t playing around. she was never playing around when you were involved. may the shogun strike her down if she ever lied to you.

her words caused your stomach to flare up, heat shooting up right into your cheeks at how serious she actually was before you felt her two fingers sliding into your pussy. 

„a-ahh… y-you didn‘t even let me answer-“, you bit down on your lower lip at the feeling of her digits feeling your insides up for that certain spot, yet her face was unmoved. observing you. a wolf stalking its prey right before the deadly bite.

„right, where did my manners go… it is almost like my wife hasn’t been undressing me with her eyes for the entirety of this evening.“, a shiver bolted through your body as arlecchino aimed for that neatly hidden spot, sending bolts of of ecstasy down your spine.

„it is no secret to me that that my dear wife secretly wishes for much more… filthier fantasies.“

you thought you were hallucinating for a short moment before you felt it. a pair two hands- much bigger hands- working their way from your shoulder down to your breasts. hands carrying a curse with bloody lines for skin that dragged the expensive silk of your gown below your tits.

oh god.

oh. god.

if you weren‘t already sitting in your husband‘s lap you would have surely lost your foothold. you would recognize that pattern anywhere.

„h-how-“, you gasped as her hands engulfed the soft mass of your tit, giving it a gentle squeeze.

„some questions are best left unanswered…  besides, i don‘t think you truly care about my reasoning.“, you almost overheard her words with how arlecchino‘s fingers were practically rubbing you into whimpering mess, nodding your head to her statement of which you only understood the first half. 

she was so twisted for that. so twisted and cruel for reading your fantasies like that. why did she always have to be so attentive to you??

„look at you trembling already, dove. say, does this situation arouse you, hm?“, an almost exhilarating whine escaped your lips as you felt her fingers giving your hardened buds a good pinch, only adding further to the knot in your abdomen. too much all at once. too many hands on you. too many words you have to process while arlecchino‘s fingers were working inside your clenching cunt, never missing a chance to go for that spot that caused your body to shiver and your hips to further press against her hand. 

„hah… i-it does- oh fuck-“, your first orgasm came crashing down on you like a bucket of ice water, straightening your spine and throwing your head back against what you thought to be your… other husband‘s abdomen as your walls grabbed onto arlecchino‘s fingers with no end. as if your body isn‘t already screaming for something more… filling.

like you weren‘t about to get the much bigger deal.

„so exhausted already after i merely used my fingers on you. i trained you to last much more longer than that, didn‘t i?“

the both of them hummed at your pathetic state. your exposed tits and their hardened nipples, your slick covering your husband‘s hand and sleeve and probably even her pants and yet you still looked… unfinished. as if as puzzle piece was missing. it was probably the lack of running mascara or your still very empty pussy that triggered their next action.

„i‘d like to allow myself the next turn now.“, a snap so crisp it could‘ve cut through time itself echoed throughout the bloody realm before fainting into a faraway whisper, when a yelp left your throat as multiple thicks string wrapped themselves around your limbs. especially your thighs, abdomen and both arms, lifting you off of your husband‘s lap who just… smiled at you. 

„now let me have a proper look at you, doll.“, and like clockwork your body was slowly turned around. breath catching in your throat, heart rate increasing and if your lungs weren‘t feeling too big for your chest right now you would have probably *moaned* screamed at the sight presenting itself to you.

you knew she was… bigger in this form. what used to be around one head taller than you now turned into around three whole heads. and you suddenly felt so small at the cursed hand working its way from your tits down to your tummy, her sprawled out fingers touching your underboob even tho she was pressing down a bit below your belly button. but most importantly was…

„wh-what is the meaning of this-“, suddenly you sucked in a sharp breath when you got moved closer to peruere, whose smile had something… sinister in it. yet it failed to scare you, only causing the painful ache between your legs to intensify.

you only heard their joined chuckles roaming through the mindscape, not mocking you. they seemed rather amused.

„my sweet doll.“, your throat bobbed when you noticed her other hand slowly unbuckling the belt, but what rather concerned you was what she was caging underneath, „you‘re not truly asking because you want an answer, right?“, she did not bother with removing the leather from its loops and only shoved the fabric just low enough to uncover her throbbing cock, the black tip already glistening with precum in the red gloom of the balemoon.

the strings kept you in a straight position as your left leg got pushed up to your chest to reveal your arousal running down your legs. the sudden exposure caused you to gasp and avert your eyes from the combination of her hard cock aligning with your drenched entrance.

your husband clicked her tongue in annoyance before a hand big enough to crush your skull with ease grabbed your face to make you look back down again.

„i want you to watch it disappear inside of you. i thought you were smart enough to remember that…“, she slowly pushed herself forward and therefore her tip right inside and holy mother on earth. 

„a-ah-!! o-oh shit!! that‘s n-not fair-!!!“, she was so big. you weren‘t even sure your poor pussy could handle that but you didn‘t even know if this was your actual physical body getting stretched out on peruere‘s cock in the first place. 

„shhhh… don‘t be so loud. we got someone to entertain after all. surely, you‘d want to do a good job for her.“, you moaned as you felt her sharp nails digging deeper into your muscles with each centimeter she further slipped into your greedy cunt. and you were losing more of your sanity with each of them, eyes darting around, unsure where to look. her stern expression? the noticeable tummy bulge? and why were you even still wearing your dress in the first place? that thing just hung loose around your waist for all it was worth. might as well just rip it off.

„oh, don‘t let my presence cause any distractions for you. i‘m more than satisfied with the view from behind here.“, her raw voice from right behind was laced with desire as thick as honey. you were honestly a bit afraid of what‘s about to come for *you* your pussy.

„goodness, she is tight… and so small compared to me.“, as if she wanted to undermine her statement, a black hand pressed down onto the bulge that formed on your, sending your mind down a spiral of ecstasy at the almost uncomfortable sensation. your mouth hung open, moans and whimpers freely leaving as they pleased before you felt the tip slipping past your g-spot and you probably never sounded louder.

a thumb rubbed circles over your aching clit as if in an attempt to further ease you around her cock.

„breathe, doll. we have done this plenty of times, surely my wife won‘t give into defeat this early on. i trained you much better than this.“, you could only imagine those crimson eyes roaming over your trembling figure, how the strings gently squeezed your flesh and kept you in place. the only ones that allowed you to mildly move around were attached to your arms, one hand currently grabbing for dear life onto peruere‘s neck to somehow anchor yourself. you knew she couldn‘t possibly fit all the way inside of you. but you wanted her to. you wanted her to use you like a fleshlight so bad, to drag you on and off her throbbing cock like you weighed nothing in her eyes.

„i think our pretty girl is pretty much at her wits end already… and i am barely halfway inside. but this will also do.“, a hand came up to tilt your head upward to face her when she carefully pulled back- to push herself inside again, „look at you, i just started moving and you are already threatening to tear up.“, she couldn‘t help but lick her lips at the pathetic sight in front of her as she brushed the salty fluid off with her thumb, only for them to grow glassy again when she turned the pace up once more. slick running down your leg as your vision grew hazy with her cock pumping in and out of your still adjusting pussy. you could barely hear arlecchino‘s words over the filthy sounds from your cunt.

„surely you want her to come inside of you. isn’t that so, lovely?“, she sounded way nearer than a few moments earlier before you felt a pair of soft lips planting themselves on your neck and two hands coming up to cup your pretty tits, massaging them, squeezing them. you‘re going to die of a heart attack here.

„i‘ll take that as a yes-”, she ended her sentence with a sharp hiss as your nail scratched over her neck hard enough to draw blood when you felt it.

it was a rare occasion. often it was caused by overstimulation or when arlecchino was actively trying for it, but squirting over her cock on your second orgasm when all she did was move her hips in a fairly medium-paced manner? it was embarrassing. the way you gushed all over her fat dick, pants and heels oh you will never hear the end of it.

„my, what a stamina you have today, dearest…“, long fingers sneaked from your breast down to spread your still leaking pussy apart, causing you to automatically grip onto your husbands biceps.

„ah-!! wait- i-i‘m still sensitive-!“, you started sobbing on the spot at how your poor cunt was only penetrated further.

but do you also wanna know what comes with a bigger dick? bigger loads.

with one last push of her hips and a low grunt emitting from her throat, peruere emptied herself inside of you, thick ropes of white painting your pussy and you were full of her. 

„mhm… get it all in there… gosh, look at that pretty pussy taking my cum…“, arlecchino pushed her two fingers inside as peruere retreated from you, a thick string of both of your juices connecting you to her tip before it snapped.

„p-please hold on- ah-!“, poor you couldn’t help but beg for a little break, you were just so overwhelmed with her fingers playing in your cum-filled pussy…

„what about your input?“

„huh?“

„your input, [name].“

you felt like somebody just straight up punched you right into the gut when you found yourself back inside the conference room. with all the attention suddenly focused on you.

„m-my-”, you quickly had to clear your throat with a few coughs, trying to ignore how beyond soaked you were, „my input on what exactly…?“, you masked it but you were fucking panicking on the inside. and your husband was merely raising an eyebrow at you. 

just then capitano leaned down to your ear, „it‘s about arlecchino‘s deployment in liyue for the next month, as her wife they want your opinion on the matter.“, and he still had that stupid braid in his hair.

„ah, thank you… i have no objections regarding the upcoming plans.“, that was all it took for everyone to take their eyes off of you. 

except for one person.

her x‘s were resting on you. piercing through your face as she crosses her arms.

that’s when you noticed the scratch on her neck. a fresh one.

[knavesflames]

giving arlecchino a tit job for the first time… oh god i‘m flat af but i‘ll make anything work for her.

i actually think she‘d be such a mess if she saw you kneeling between her spread legs, her cock already hard from the sight of your bare tits. she is wetting her lips every now and then as she watches you cage her dick between your breasts. arlecchino did not show it but her heart was threatening to beat right out of her chest, the way you were so unsure about your movements as it‘s the first time for the both of you using those pretty things to get your husband off.

„my love… you really don‘t have to…“, she bit down a whimper before reaching over to run her hand through your hair. you couldn’t get any cute in her eyes at this point. eyes so full of nervousness it made her wanna pump you feel with her load wirbkwbekwben

„i-i want to… i want to make you feel just as good as you do it with me…“, you looked down to her tip peeking out between your boobs as you did your best to recreate the same friction as if she was using your cunt right now.

you missed how deeply she had to inhale at your confession. how her other hand grabbed into the sheets until her knuckles turned grey.

„then squeeze them a bit tighter for me, will you…? can’t get off like this, pretty girl…“

arle would be so weak to the sight. watching her dick slide up and down between your tits, her precum already running down your skin and she has to pull herself together SO badly in order to not just fuck your mouth. and you reduce her to a whimpering and whining mess so quickly, five minutes in and she is already moving her hips along to your movement. muttering stuff like „good girl“, „darling please…“ and „such pretty tits“ under her breath until her cum starts gushing out, hitting your lips and chin while the rest sticks to your boobs and she‘d be all over you in no time. tongue dragging over your dirtied skin, humming at the taste of her on you, her wife. she is straight up burying her face in them. no matter the size she will lick and suck the living hell out of those pretty things until you‘ve had enough.

[knavesflames]

I have things to say:

The surgery has FINALLY been completed oh my fucking god‼️

Recovering will take like 4-6 weeks but I didn’t die so I’m vibing so hard!! It was difficult to like. Imagine a world where I’d be there for my partners birthday or for the summer (my fave season…) but now it is all good

My energy is v slowly coming back which means I’ll be writing again soon!! I promised a certain @celuere strap sucking, so that it shall be. Requests are still open but tumblr has deleted a bunch for like no reason and I am SO sorry

Anyway yes I am ok, still a thirsty mf for Arlecchino, be back soon, the end

[knavesflames]

How can u Write so good?

I sit down and channel my inner slut☺️

I try to find things that I like from real life but some of the times it just doesn’t work but I try my best anyway 😭 thank you for liking my work!!

[knavesflames]

it‘s happening again.

pairing: ex!arlecchino x fem!reader

context: you just can‘t seem to get over her.

cw: modern au, desperate sesbian lex, rough sex, fingering, strap on,  unhealthy relationship, arle is very bad at feelings, hurt no comfort

word count: 900

art credits: bad thinking diary

got this idea while listening to right here from chase atlantic, i can‘t explain why it fits modern ex arle so well.

hot.

you felt so incredibly hot.

she was burning you from inside with each skilled curl of her fingers sending sparks of ecstasy down your spine. your skin seemingly boiling with how her lips made sure to leave no spot untouched.

you promised yourself to not let this happen again. to not fall back into her net each and every time fate forces you to cross paths again. whether it be at a birthday party of your mutual friends, the gym you both frequent or your local bar. it always ended with your naked bodies entangled with each other. you were the fuel to her fire just like you were drawn to her flame like a moth in the darkest voids of your heart. starved. starved of her. of her touch, her scent, her voice, her very presence. every single fiber in your body was screaming for her. craving her. you could never deny yourself a night with her, even though you already know what will be awaiting you the next morning. 

your attempts to form a single sentence between the breathy moans and whines falling over your lips were immediately cut off by her mouth. plunging her tongue into yours to avoid any kind of confrontation, your teeth clashing together in the instance.

she should know better than this. than letting you get close to her heart again. but it was you. her heart. the bane of her existence. but in her mind she just wasn‘t good enough for you. never will be. she doesn‘t deserve waiting for you at the altar one day, to promise herself to you for the rest of her life. you were the only good thing that life brought her and she didn‘t trust that.

the arch of your back into her while she felt you clenching around your fingers were enough indicator of your orgasm. she would usually stop herself here. however couldn‘t bring herself to. the way your fingers ran through her silky hair, that pleading look she could still make out in the darkness of your bedroom. pleading for her to stay.

in a moment of weakness she flipped you around on your stomach, she had to get you out of her system once and for all.

„a-arle…“

„quiet.“, the sound of a drawer being pulled open followed by the rustling of leather caused your core to slowly melt. you knew what‘s next.

„ass up.“, you hated how much of an effect that sharp tone had on you. causing your already puffy clit to ache at the bare thought. it wasn‘t fair.

feeling the weight of your mattress sink behind you before a pair of tattooed fingers snaked around your hips and pulled you back against her. a whimper so soft and desperate fell out of your mouth as she lubed up the silicone by rubbing the shaft through your slick folds. the sight of your bare ass presented to her, waiting to be plowed into gnawed at her already declining self restraint. 

she was gentle and rough at the same time. robbing you of your last bit of dignity with each drive of her hips into yours, a strong contradict to how tender her hand ran along the length of your spine. 

truth be told, arlecchino was happy she didn‘t have to look at your pleasured face right now. how full of love your eyes still were for her. as if she was somehow deserving of it. it angered her how you couldn‘t see it. how you deserved better than this mess of a person she is. she wants to hand you the world on a silver platter but she can‘t. and she hated it.

she hated herself for being everything you crave yet not what you truly needed.

the sound of your pleading voice bounced off the tense bedroom air, „a-arle, can we- mh-!“, your sounds now coming out muffled as a strong hand pushes your head down into the pillow, her pace turning almost feral.

„can we talk?“

you knew it was a foolish question and you felt beyond humiliated for even trying in the first place. just like it‘s foolish of you to have kept some of her clothes to yourself when she moved out. or how her toothbrush is still sitting in the same glass as yours. or how you refuse to throw away the shared photos of you.

or how you planned on proposing to her.

she was the future you wanted but never got. a flower that was just about to bloom but was stomped down before it had the chance to.

arlecchino was everything you needed yet nothing you owned.

were you crying out of pleasure or heartbreak? you didn’t even know the answer yourself. your fluids soaking the sheets underneath you just like your tears were staining the pillow now. but you‘d cry even more if she stopped now and you felt even more pathetic for it. 

but nothing compared to the emptiness filling up your heart when you woke up in your bed the next day. alone. in a cold bed. with nothing but the soft ticks of the clock thats hanging on the wall filling the room as you stared at the open chat on your phone.

„can we please talk?“

delivered.

[knavesflames]

a little bit scandalous.

a little bit scandalous.

pairing: dom!arlecchino x fem!reader

context: you just want your husband to pay attention to you.

cw: mild exhibitionism, carriage sex, dick sucking, riding, arle‘s fat fucking dick, unprotected sex, pet names, slight degradation, a bit homophobia at the beginning, arle playing poker makes me feel things, i also love giving side characters stupid names

word count: 3.7k

art credits: drunken my boss

you needed to stop agreeing to accompanying her on such lavish events. 

the orchestra feels dull.

the food is medium at best. too extraordinary for your taste.

„no, my husband is not the „man“ of the house, neither is she wearing the „pants“ in our marriage. (you are)“, and the conversations fucking sucked.

you had no idea how you ended up in this… circle of married housewives where the only conversation topics seem to revolve around cooking, men and how you could ever be married to a woman.

said woman was seated just a few meters ahead at a table with other businesspeople alike, playing a round of poker and by the looks of it, she was winning as always. you noticed the lack of amusements in the faces of her conversation partners, they were doing more than just passing around cards and chips.

and you were stuck with-

„she dresses so masculine… are you sure you‘re not looking for a man if you’re married to… her?“

god‘s above.

„pretty sure i‘d know if my taste happened to be as awful as yours. are you sure you‘re not looking for a divorce if your husband cheats on you minimum once a week?“, you rolled your eyes at the gasp running through the small crowd of women at the table. 

„if you‘ll excuse me now, i‘ll be heading back to my woman.“, without responding any further to the shocked faces surrounding you, you shoved yourself back from the table and got up on your feet.

arlecchino overheard the clacking of your heels against the polished marble floor over the orchestra and the chatter surrounding her. this deal was running smoother than she‘d originally thought it would.

it was only when a pair of delicate hands placed themselves on her shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze, that she noticed your presence. the soft scent of your perfume told her it wasn‘t necessary to turn around. 

she felt your hot breath hit her ear next.

„ma cherie… i would like for us to leave…“, you ignored the annoyed looks the sudden display of affection towards your spouse earned you. 

arlecchino did not bother to face you as the nail of her thumb scratched over the ace card of the royal flush she was currently holding.

„my love, i fear you‘ll have to wait until i wrapped this deal up… or you take the carriage back home without me… either way i can‘t leave yet…“, putting her poker hand down, a few groans ran through the table at her… third victory in a row. two servants moved around the table as they gathered up the scattered cards and chips.

her lack of attention to you and the almost indifferent tone she spoke handled you with only added to your frustration.

you only bothered attending because she invited you and now she can’t even leave with you?

but given the audience you decided against a sharp remark, merely stepping back from her, „fine then. i‘ll go get the carriage ready then. ladies, gentlemen…“, you nodded at the table as you bid your farewell and left for the exit without another word. your husband didn‘t miss the sharp tone you sprinkled over your words, she suppressed the urge to rub the bridge of her nose as she waved a fatui agent over.

„make sure she gets home safely. i don’t care if she wants an escort or not. i want my wife home safe and sound.“, crimson eyes fixed on the broad shouldered man following you outside before she turned her attention back to the deal at hand.

she didn’t spare the servant a glance who handed out the chips to each participant, „my apologies for the interruption. we were just talking about the shares of your project, right madame cornhead?“, said woman only nodded as she took a sip of her third wineglass of the evening.

„well, in order to keep us hooked into the deal i‘d say a good 30% of those shares will be flowing right into your support for the fatui. quality has to be rewarded, does it not?“

a few approving nods and hums rumbled through the table. wow, no bitching around for once? that‘s a new one. she could totally get used to this.

„let‘s make it 40%, how about that? as a little… thank you for your cooperation with us.“

„that is-“

„i‘m sorry to interrupt you once again…“, slender hands ran down her chest from behind as she felt your cleavage hit her neck, „i can‘t just leave without bidding my husband a proper goodbye…“, pressing a gentle kiss behind her ear, arlecchino barely oversaw whatever you kept in your right hand, „don‘t stay out for too long, you know i don‘t like sleeping alone…“

as much as she hated being interrupted during negotiations, she‘d never turn you away. a black hand came up to cup your cheek as she presses a kiss to the other one, „i‘ll make sure of it, my love.“ 

but then her breath hitched at the sudden pressure applied to her crotch before you stepped back. the smirk tugging on your painted lips almost straight from the abyss itself and the knave knew something was off.

eyes darting back down to her crotch- her heart almost set out a beat at the surprise resting between her thighs. blood rushing straight to her dick.

red.

lacy.

oh, you were done. 

it was your red lacy slip that you just laid down in her lap in broad daylight.

with a wet stain.

she snatched up the fabric with an almost inhuman speed, praying to whatever deity sitting above the skies that nobody got wind of the fact that the knave‘s wife was walking around with nothing underneath her dress.

you were as quickly gone as you came.

leaving her with not only just your underwear but a fucking painful ache between her legs as well. and then the wheels in arlecchino’s head started to turn.

should she stay professional and ignore your obvious intentions, wrap up this meeting and then come home to pay you back tenfold?

or should she follow her di- i mean heart and leave with you?

her answer is obvious.

„…ladies. gentlemen. i fear i have to depart sooner than expected.“, in one single motion she stood up from the table, her sharp heels clicking against the floor when a servant helped her with putting her coat on.

��but about the-“

„i‘ll schedule a separate meeting to further discuss our plans with your organization. i will take care of the costs for transportations. have a nice evening.“, and with that the knave departed as she followed your footsteps outside.

you just sat yourself down onto the satin bank of your carriage. the servants already lit up the candles inside prior to your departure so it was fairly cozy compared to the snowy weather drowning the area in a soft cape of white, allowing you to shed out of your fur coat when the doors were opened. slowly. her white hair came first into view before you crossed eyes with a pair of crimson x‘s.

you paid her little attention as she sat down opposite of you, „changed your mind, hm?“, your hand fidgeted a little pocket mirror out along with a light pink lipstick.

when you were fixed on touching up your lips, the carriage started to get moving, for a while arlecchino stayed silent. watching you. observing you. from time to time her gaze would wander outside the windows, appreciating the beautiful scenery before it found your face once again.

she was planning something.

the thought of you being bare underneath that dress of yours sending sparks of desire down her spine. you knew exactly what you were doing. and she wasn‘t having it. she didn‘t mind you mingling with her concentration while doing tedious tasks such as paperwork, reviewing mission reports, etc., but messing with her like this in public when she‘s got important stuff on her hands… maybe she spoiled you a bit too much lately.

„come here.“, with a pat on her lap she signaled you exactly where she wanted you.

„can‘t you see i‘m busy-“

„i said come here.“

something dropped in your stomach. or pussy. you couldn‘t tell.

she didn‘t wait until you sat down, straight up grabbing you by your wrist and pulling you onto her lap. gasping slightly as you felt the tent in her pants pressing right against your uncovered folds. truth be told, the way she was staring holes into you earlier caused you to grow wet at the bare thought of what would be awaiting you at home. but you did not expect her to take action now.

„b-but the coachman outside-“

„you placed your slip into my lap at a table with at least 20 other business partners, but the coachman is suddenly too much?“, you could feel her hands running up your thighs, pushing the fabric up along the way to reveal the bloody stockings you choose to wear tonight. her nails tracing the lacy hem that ended a bit above your knees, sending goosebumps over your boiling skin.

„th-that was something different..“, you couldn‘t help but fixate on those black fingers pulling and playing with the fabric. they didn‘t dare wander any further up. as if she was restraining herself.

„right, because almost humiliating both you and me is much worse. don‘t you ever think before acting? i thought you were such a smart girl, and yet you almost jeopardized a whole deal. and for what?“, strong hands now gripping onto your thighs to push you down on her aching bulge with sharp nails, digging into your soft flesh, „answer.“

the sudden course of action caused you to slightly moan, placing one hand on her shoulder as the raw look edged into her face turned you on way more than it should.

„i-i don‘t know- the lack of a-attention got o-on my nerves…“, a dark red spread across your cheeks at your confession. you did not expect her to come home with you, let alone end up on her lap like this.

she almost scoffed at your reasoning. wasn‘t she showering you in attention enough already?

dresses, accessories, flowers, vacations. anything you wanted, she got you in the blink of an eye. and she never expected anything back. why should she? you‘re her wife. her most prized possession. the cure to her oh so cursed existence. never in her life would she ever think about getting something back from you. that‘s just what she‘s used to, what she wants. to give and not receive anything in return.

and yet…

„get on your knees.“, strong hands shoving you off of her lap.

„what-“

„don‘t make me repeat myself. if you can act like a slut in public, i‘ll treat you like one in private.“

you were kneeling before her in no time. eyes on the same height as her crotch now as you watched her hands unbuckle her belt. not daring to look up at her as you prayed that she couldn‘t hear your heart threatening to beat right out of your chest.

you were nervous. for the first time in ages you were nervous about what‘s going to happen next to you and it was exciting you to the point you had to press your thighs together to momentarily stop the painful ache between them.

watching her slightly lift her hips up to pull her pants below her dick, your mouth was almost watering at the sight of her dripping with precum. the black arrow running along her lighter shaft already glistening in the candlelight.

„do you require an invitation?“, her sharp tone cut through the tense air like butter and shot right down into your core, „it‘s not going to suck itself.“

„no… n-no no, i don‘t need one…“, allowing yourself one last intake of air before you slowly bent over, placing both hands on her spreaded thighs and started by licking her from her base up to her tip.

she tasted a bit sweet today, a strong contradiction to the cold stare she eyed you down with her chin resting on her hand.

she used her other hand to put a few lost hair strands back behind your ear and then grabbed a good handful of them.

„open up.“, nudging your head against her as a clear command. you shakily exhaled and licked over your lips a last time before you wrapped them around her tip. and you were pushed down until your nose hit her hairy base almost immediately. eyes threatening to tear up at the sudden invasion of your throat as you tried to not gag on her while she kept you pressed down. not moving. just burying her cock inside your mouth.

„breathe through your nose. we have done this plenty of times before. come on.“, her nails gently scratched over your scalp in order to soothe you- and it worked.

„there, there… good girl…“, and she started to move your head. slowly at first. observing you for any signs of being overwhelmed but you took her so well. those pretty pink lips were such a cute contrast to her blackened skin. arlecchino had to bite down on her tongue in order to keep any sounds from leaving her lips as she dragged you on and off her cock. shaft already drenched with your saliva, soft gags and sloppy wet sounds filling the small carriage.

„do you have any idea how pathetic you look with my dick in your mouth?“, a rhetorical question. you did look pathetic.

but lord, you took her so well, even tho you gagged softly anytime her tip hit the back of your throat, your nails digging into her thighs as you let her fuck your mouth however she pleased unti you felt the sticky fluid spreading over your tongue. otherwise she didn‘t let you know how she just climaxed. she masked her face too well for that.

despite the taste, the texture always made it difficult for you to swallow but you knew refusal would not sit well with her so you let her push you off of her to swallow correctly.

„mhm… get that all down. i don‘t want to see even the slightest remains.“, she watched the thick string connecting your plump lips to her tip snap as you were busy with getting everything down. the feeling of her cum running down your throat sent a shiver running down your spine but you managed and opened your mouth for her to look. even stuck out your tongue.

your husband leaned a bit down to you to properly inspect your mouth, but she seemed pleased with the result.

„good job… now get back up here.“

you got back up on aching legs, trembling slightly as you wanted to sit down on her lap again, „n-not done- ah-“, you yelped at the end suddenly snaking underneath your dress before her fingers glided over your slickness. my fucking god you were beyond soaked to your inner thighs, it was almost humiliating.

„just how i thought. my wife gets off on me using her like my own personal sextoy. who would have thought.“, that same hand now grabbed onto your ass to pull you down on her with the tip now pressing directly against your dipping hole.

„come on, sit down.“

„c-completely…?“

„am i implying anything else?“, just as you were about to answer, the carriage seemed to hit a pothole on the street, accidentally causing the first two inches to slip inside at impact and for you to hold onto her shoulders for dear life.

she never had to hold back a chuckle so bad.

„a-ah- that was… u-unfair-!“

„ah, yes… having to sit on your husband‘s dick is truly the worst fate that could have ever hit you.“, you shot her a glare and she rolled her eyes as you proceeded to fully take her in, it was getting seemingly harder with each cm that passed past your g-spot and you were already panting over her by the time you fully sat down. her tip nestled against cervix and the harsh movements of your coach was doing little to help you adjust.

„the ride isn‘t going to take forever. i‘d suggest you start moving, my dearest.“, oh she wasn‘t planning on moving even the slightest bit. you‘d have to do the job yourself.

„you want me to… do it myself…?“, in slight disbelief you watched your husband open a bottle of champagne one-handed before filling herself up a glass of the alcoholic beverage.

„am i implying anything else?“

now that‘s a new one. you weren‘t used to… putting effort in when you were on the receiving end. but you wouldn’t let that stop you.

„oh…? not even complaining?“, she raised an eyebrow at you as you started to move her hips over her, trying to find a somewhat enjoyable rhythm for you. merely shaking your head while you whimpered at the unpleasant feeling inside you. this was harder than you thought, the pace was too slow for your liking and it was nearly impossible to hit any good spots like this.

„a-arle… c-could you please help…“, hands moving over into her neck as you almost whined. 

„help?“, she sighed as she took the first sip of her champagne, humming slightly at the taste as she merely placed a hand on your hip, „not even thirty seconds have passed and you‘re already whining? you learn by doing, so no. i will lend a hand when i’m seeing fit for it but all i see right now is a spoiled princess who is too used to her husband pampering her. move.“

her harsh answer almost forced tears into your eyes. not because it hurt, but because she was kind of right. you weren‘t used to her denying you. ever. and that frustrated you more than it should, even embarrassed you.

„th-that‘s not fair…“, you tried out a more rocking motion now, which at least felt slightly better.

„i am being very fair right now. i could also end things right here and send you straight to bed once we get home, with no one to take care of your needs. but i‘m not doing that now, am i?“, her fingers on your hips tapped against your skin in all almost mocking manner as she brought the glass to her lips once again.

you stayed silent. why does she always have to be right after all? she luckily didn‘t comment on your lack of words and just proceeded to watch you with an almost bored look on her face.

„you need to bounce.“

„wh-what…-“, you groaned, thighs already working against you.

„you need to bounce on my dick, love. what are you expecting from these… motions? a tickle? lift up your hips and then let yourself back down. come on, try it and then i may consider helping you.“

that sounded… exhausting, but you had like- no other choice, so you obliged. lifting yourself a bit up before almost dropping straight back down and… it felt good. very fucking good. so good that you immediately repeated yourself. and again. and again. each time only forcing your moans to grow louder, leaning your head into her neck and wrapping your arms around her instead as the desperation started to get the better of you. you needed that orgasm just as much as oxygen if not even more. even the thought about coachman outside possibly hearing your sounds of pleasure did only add to the knot building up in your stomach. but it wasn‘t enough. something was still missing.

„peru- p-peruere please-“, you breathed against her skin. a whimper slipping out with your words. you completely overheard her own heavy breathing and how she quite literally had to restrain herself in order to not fuck you dumb and stupid before you even got home. 

„please what…? be more specific. use your words, my love…“, she gently patted your back, kissing your cheek as she only slightly started moving her hips against yours.

„p-please fuck me- ‘m sorry f-for earlier- j-just plea-“, a moan ripped through the air as she thrusted her hips up into you, immediately hitting your weak spot, just like you needed it. nails dug and pulled at the expensive fabric of her suit. the straps of your dress hung loose around your arms, as she fucked you within an inch of your life. dragging her cock in and out of your soaking cunt and you could faintly hear her groaning against your clenching pussy before the knot in your abdomen finally loosened up and you creamed nicely around her dick for all you were worth. you couldn‘t help but feel your thighs starting to shake from the impact and as if that wasn‘t enough already, you felt her load paint your insides next.

no words were uttered. just your joined heavy breathing was to be heard in the small space. the windows fogged up, making it impossible to see what could be going on outside.

she kept you pressed down on her when you wanted to get off, nuzzling a bit deeper into the crook of your neck.

„s'il te plaît reste comme ça encore un peu, ma fleur…“

„please stay a little longer like this, my flower…“

you sunk back down against her chest, resting your head on her shoulder as something akin to comfort washed over you.

the both of you stayed silent for a good few minutes, just enjoying and bathing in each other’s presence

„what did you do with my panties…?“

you could hear her hand starting to fidget something out of her pocket.

„safekeeping them of course.“, she pressed a gentle kiss to your check as she placed your panties next to you.

maybe you will keep accompanying her on more events.

[knavesflames]

Arlecchino x Fem Reader Angst

Arlecchino angst because I hate myself and I’m incredibly depressed atm, listening to good luck, babe for the past four hours LMAO

arlecchino x fem Reader Angst ,internalised homophobia, reader marrying a man tw.

2.5k words

The ballroom was gilded in gold and excess, every chandelier a mockery of the weight crushing your chest. Guests danced in practiced elegance, their laughter ringing hollow in your ears. Your fingers clenched the fabric of your white dress as you stood at the edge of the festivities, trying to make yourself invisible. But no amount of opulence could dull the aching in your heart.

You shouldn’t have looked. You promised yourself you wouldn’t, but when her piercing gaze found yours from across the room, it was as though the ground beneath you disappeared. Arlecchino stood in the shadowed corner, her presence impossible to ignore despite her effort to blend into the background. The tailored suit she wore fit her perfectly, but it was her expression that broke you. Her normally unreadable face now bore something raw, something vulnerable.

You forced yourself to look away.You have a husband now you're supposed to give your undivided attention and support to him.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to fall in love with her.

But you had.

Your father’s voice lingered in your mind like a cruel shadow, a constant reminder of why you were here tonight. His words were sharp, not with pride but with practicality, as he justified your union with the Demoisters, the family you're now bearing your last name with. It wasn’t about love or your happiness—it never was. This marriage was nothing more than a transaction, a lifeline for your father to pull himself out of crippling debt, no matter the cost to you.

Sometimes, in the back of your mind where your unspoken dreams slowly die , you wished the weight of his failures would finally crush him. Maybe then, you could finally escape the invisible chains he had wrapped around you for as long as you could remember. Even now, as a grown woman, you were nothing more than a pawn to him, your life reduced to serving his needs, his ambitions, his mistakes.

You’d tried to tell yourself it wasn’t his fault, that he was only doing what he thought was necessary to save your family. But that excuse had grown thin, and now, standing in the midst of this charade, you couldn’t ignore the bitter truth. He would never see you as more than a tool. And you—despite everything you wanted to believe—were too afraid to break free.

The realisation sank deeper, heavier, like a stone tied to your soul. You weren’t living for yourself. You never had been.Marrying the heir of another family wasn’t just an expectation—it was a lifeline for your family’s survival. You couldn’t afford the luxury of choice, let alone the freedom to love someone as dangerous as Arlecchino.

She’d warned you.

All that rang through your mind was the night before all of this happened. The last encounter you had with Arlecchino before she called off things with you for good.

“Your father is just using you,” she said, her voice low but trembling with restrained anger. Her eyes, usually so piercing, now brimmed with raw pain and frustration. “He doesn’t care what you want. He never has.”

You flinched at her words, but it wasn’t because she was wrong. It was because she was right, and hearing the truth from her lips made it unbearable.

“I—he’s my father,” you mumbled, the excuse tasting bitter in your mouth. You couldn’t meet her gaze, your eyes fixed on the floor instead, where the shadows of candlelight danced—so fragile, so fleeting. “It’s not that simple. I don’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” she snapped, stepping closer, her voice growing more desperate. “But you’re too scared to take it. You’re scared of what they’ll say. What he’ll say. That’s why you’re going through with this farce of a marriage, isn’t it? Because it’s easier to let them decide your life for you than to fight for what you actually want.”

Her words hit like daggers, and you hated how well she could see through you. She always could.

“You don’t understand,” you whispered, your voice cracking under the weight of your own emotions. “I have to do this. It’s my family—”

“It’s not your family,” she interrupted, her voice sharp enough to cut through the air. “It’s him. It’s always been him. He doesn’t care about you, about what makes you happy. He’s doing this for himself—to save his business, to save his reputation. And he’s dragging you down with him, forcing you to live a life that isn’t yours.”

Tears burned in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not here. Not now. “It’s not that simple,” you said again, but the words were hollow, and you knew she could hear it too.

“And for what?” she pressed, her voice softening but losing none of its intensity. “For a family that doesn’t see you for who you are? For a man who doesn’t love you—and never will? That’s why you’re marrying him and not me, isn’t it?”

The silence that followed was deafening.

She took a step back, her shoulders trembling as she let out a bitter scoff, the sound laced with heartbreak. “Because they’d rather see you miserable than happy with me. Because they’d rather you live a lie than accept the truth. And you’re letting them. You’re letting them steal everything from you, including me.”

Your chest tightened, and the tears finally fell, hot and unforgiving, streaking down your face. You wanted to tell her she was wrong, to reach out and beg her to stay, but your voice caught in your throat. Because deep down, you knew she was right.

“I can’t,” you whispered, your voice so quiet it was almost inaudible. “I can’t fight them. I’m not strong enough.”

Her expression crumbled, her mask of anger giving way to something far more devastating—grief. “Then that’s it, isn’t it?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re going to let them decide your life for you. And you’re going to lose me in the process.”

She turned away, and for a moment, you wanted to reach for her, to beg her to understand, to stay despite everything. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

“I love you,” you said, the words breaking on your lips.

She paused, her back still to you. “Then you should’ve chosen me.”

And with that, she walked away, leaving you alone in the suffocating quiet of your own cowardice, your heart shattering into pieces you would never put back together.

But you had no choice.

Now, the gilded ring on your finger felt heavier than lead. Every step you took toward the man you were bound to felt like another nail in the coffin of your happiness. He smiled at you, oblivious to the storm raging within you, as he held out his hand to guide you into the first dance.

You moved mechanically, your heart somewhere else entirely—across the room, where Arlecchino stood unmoving, watching.

When the music slowed, and the crowd dissolved into polite applause, you excused yourself under the guise of needing air. The garden was empty, the cool night breeze biting against your skin. But it wasn’t the cold that made you shiver.

“I shouldn’t have come.”

Her voice was low, cutting through the silence like a blade. You turned to see her standing there, her suit blending into the shadows.

“Then why are you here?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

She stepped closer, and for a moment, you thought she might touch you, but her hands stayed firmly at her sides. “Because I had to see it for myself,” she said, her voice cracking. “Had to see you give yourself to someone else.”

“I've told you a million times it wasn’t my choice,” you said, tears welling in your eyes.

“There’s always a choice,” she hissed, her calm veneer cracking to reveal the fury and heartbreak underneath. “But you’ve made yours.”

Her words stung, but they weren’t untrue. You had made a choice. A cruel, impossible choice.

“I love you,” you said, your voice breaking as the tears spilled freely now. “I love you more than I can put into words, but—”

“But it doesn’t matter,” she interrupted, her tone hollow and sharp. Her hands twitched at her sides, as if fighting the urge to reach for you, to pull you close one last time. “It never mattered, did it?”

“That’s not true,” you whispered, stepping closer, but she stepped back, the distance between you an unspoken barrier you knew you’d never cross again.

“You’ve already chosen,” she said bitterly, her voice trembling in a way you’d never heard before. “And I’m not going to stand here and beg for the scraps of your heart. Not when you’ve already handed it over to someone else—someone you don’t even love.”

Her words struck you like a physical blow, and you recoiled, clutching the fabric of your dress as though it could hold together the pieces of your breaking heart. “This isn’t fair, Arlecchino,” you choked out. “I’m doing this for my family—”

“For your family,” she repeated, the words dripping with venom. “What about you? What about what you want? Or does what we had mean so little that you can throw it away without a second thought?”

“It’s not that simple,” you pleaded, your voice barely audible.

“It is,” she snapped, her sharp eyes blazing with a mix of fury and heartbreak. “You just don’t want to admit it. You’re a coward, and you’re running from the one thing that’s real.” Your shoulders stiffened as you raised your head up to look her directly in the eyes.

“So what?” you snapped, the words spilling out before you could stop them, sharp and defensive, laced with fear you refused to acknowledge. “I’m doing what’s best for my mother and my sisters. They need this—they need me to do this.” You folded your arms tightly across your chest, trying to steady the tremble in your voice. “You don’t understand. They would never… they’d never look at me the same if they knew about—about us.”

Your voice cracked, and you swallowed hard, willing yourself not to cry. You hated how weak you sounded, how transparent. “They’d disown me,” you whispered, almost to yourself now, the words like broken glass in your throat. “They’d hate me. My own mother, my sisters—they’re the only family I have, and if I lose them, I’ll have nothing.”

Her silence stung, and when you finally looked up, the hurt in her eyes was unbearable.

“They wouldn’t hate you,” she said softly, but there was an edge of disbelief in her tone. “They’d come to understand. They love you. Isn’t that what family is supposed to do?”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “You don’t know them like I do. Love isn’t unconditional in my family. Love is earned. And if they found out about this, about me…” You trailed off, your chest tightening as the weight of it all pressed down on you,while fiddling with the ring chained around your finger, “They’d never forgive me for ruining everything.”

“You’re not ruining anything,” she argued, her voice rising with frustration. “You’re just too afraid to live your life—our life. You’re letting their expectations cage you, and for what? To keep their love? What about your own happiness? What about mine?”

You flinched, her words cutting deeper than you wanted to admit. “You don’t get it,” you hissed, desperation creeping into your voice. “This isn’t just about me. This is about them, about saving them from losing everything. And—and being with you? It’s wrong, don’t you see that?”

Her face fell, her expression crumbling into something between anger and heartbreak. “Wrong?” she echoed, her voice barely audible. “You think this is wrong?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you said quickly, but the damage was already done.

“Yes, you did,” she shot back, her voice trembling. “You think being able to allow yourself to love me is wrong. You think you are wrong.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “You don’t understand,” you repeated, weaker this time. “It’s not about love. It’s about survival. And if that means I have to bury this—bury us—then so be it.”

Her shoulders sagged, and she let out a shaky breath. “I hope it’s worth it,” she said quietly, her voice devoid of the fire it once carried. “Giving up everything that matters to you. Including yourself.”

The silence that followed was unbearable. You reached out, desperate, but her cold, empty laugh froze you in place.

“Do me a favor,” she said softly, her voice cracking under the weight of her own words. “When you stand at that altar tomorrow and say your vows, don’t think of me. Don’t look at him and wish it was me standing there instead. Because I won’t be waiting for you, not now, not ever.”

Her words broke something in you, but before you could respond, she turned and walked away, her silhouette dissolving into the shadows.

You didn’t follow her.

You stood frozen in the cold garden, the echoes of her parting words wrapping around your throat like a noose. When you finally found the strength to move, your steps felt heavy, every movement dragging you closer to a future you no longer wanted.

As you re-entered the ballroom, the weight of the ring on your finger seemed to double, a gilded chain binding you to a life of pretense. Your fiancé greeted you with a warm smile, but you barely heard his words. You saw only Arlecchino’s back as she disappeared into the darkness, taking your heart with her.

And as the music swelled and the guests toasted to your impending marriage, the truth settled in your chest like a dagger:

You would love her for the rest of your life, but she would never forgive you.

And you would never forgive yourself.

Live,love,lesbian angst.

Me writing this fanfic:

[knavesflames]

High sex with Arlecchino

(Poll result again lol)

Hello………. I have nothing to say this time. Enjoy mwah

Word count: 629

Contents: weed, strap, it’s cute but you’re both high

Nsft utc!

All that can be heard above the sound of the rain was heavy breaths and soft sounds of pleasure. You sat atop Arlecchino’s lap, her hands on your hips guiding you up and down over her strap that she swore she could feel as if it were a part of her own body.

“Come here,” she says, taking another hit of the cart beside them on the nightstand. She gently grabs your jaw and pulls your face towards her, softly exhaling the vapor into your mouth. She can feel her eyes getting redder, and see yours grow to be the same color. “You feeling it hit, pretty girl?” She asks, pressing your body flush against hers and looking up at you like she was all that was holy to her. All she got in reply was a soft “Mhm,” before your hips began moving up and down, greedily seeking pleasure, chasing it, even. It drove Arlecchino insane, made her want to give more and more. Her hips thrusted up slightly to meet yours as you grinded down onto her cock. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she leaned back onto the wall behind them, moaning out a soft call of your name.

“Feels good, Peruere,” you murmur in her ear, using your nails to gently scratch at her scalp. Your whines drive her crazy, making her groan every time your dripping cunt enveloped her cock.

“Keep going, pretty girl, please,” she practically whines, surrendering to the high that was washing over her, her body practically buzzing from the drug coursing through her veins. Your moans make her throb, almost threaten to make her cum right there. Your nails gently scratch down her back, leaving faint red marks in their wake, and they make Arlecchino whine into your neck, thrusting up into you again and again, desperate to chase the pleasure she so badly craves. It’s pathetic, really, in the way that a dog looks up to its master with those pleading eyes.

“You’re so pathetic for me,” Arlecchino mumbles, watching you get closer to your orgasm with each little moan and whimper that escapes from your lips getting ever the more desperate.

“I need you so bad,” you whimper, hiding your face in her neck and clinging to her so tightly as your body continues to buzz and burn under her touch. Arlecchino swears she can cum just like this, that she doesn’t want it to end. You just feel too goddamn good around her to ever possibly stop.

“Mm, I know,” you murmur to her, leaning down to leave a bite mark on her neck. Oh, that drives her insane, making her thrust up inside you even harder, losing all sense of restraint.

“Please let me cum inside you,” she begs, whimpering at each movement over the toy as if it is a part of her, “Please.”

“Cum inside me,” you whisper, lightly tugging at the back of her hair until she moans pathetically, hips stuttering as they try to keep thrusting into you. It ends up pushing her over the edge as well, whimpering a string of curses in foreign languages, mixed with praises of your name. By the end of it all, the sound of rain overtakes you both, with you lying against Arlecchino’s chest, listening to her heartbeat. You spend a while like this, just lying in each other’s embrace, like time stopped just for them.

After a bit, you feel Arlecchino’s hand slide up to your chest as she leans up to kiss you, then kiss your neck again. You feels a hand touch your arm as you look down at her with a stupid grin on your face.

“Now what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m not done with you yet.”

[knavesflames]

High sex with Arlecchino

(Poll result again lol)

Hello………. I have nothing to say this time. Enjoy mwah

Word count: 629

Contents: weed, strap, it’s cute but you’re both high

Nsft utc!

All that can be heard above the sound of the rain was heavy breaths and soft sounds of pleasure. You sat atop Arlecchino’s lap, her hands on your hips guiding you up and down over her strap that she swore she could feel as if it were a part of her own body.

“Come here,” she says, taking another hit of the cart beside them on the nightstand. She gently grabs your jaw and pulls your face towards her, softly exhaling the vapor into your mouth. She can feel her eyes getting redder, and see yours grow to be the same color. “You feeling it hit, pretty girl?” She asks, pressing your body flush against hers and looking up at you like she was all that was holy to her. All she got in reply was a soft “Mhm,” before your hips began moving up and down, greedily seeking pleasure, chasing it, even. It drove Arlecchino insane, made her want to give more and more. Her hips thrusted up slightly to meet yours as you grinded down onto her cock. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she leaned back onto the wall behind them, moaning out a soft call of your name.

“Feels good, Peruere,” you murmur in her ear, using your nails to gently scratch at her scalp. Your whines drive her crazy, making her groan every time your dripping cunt enveloped her cock.

“Keep going, pretty girl, please,” she practically whines, surrendering to the high that was washing over her, her body practically buzzing from the drug coursing through her veins. Your moans make her throb, almost threaten to make her cum right there. Your nails gently scratch down her back, leaving faint red marks in their wake, and they make Arlecchino whine into your neck, thrusting up into you again and again, desperate to chase the pleasure she so badly craves. It’s pathetic, really, in the way that a dog looks up to its master with those pleading eyes.

“You’re so pathetic for me,” Arlecchino mumbles, watching you get closer to your orgasm with each little moan and whimper that escapes from your lips getting ever the more desperate.

“I need you so bad,” you whimper, hiding your face in her neck and clinging to her so tightly as your body continues to buzz and burn under her touch. Arlecchino swears she can cum just like this, that she doesn’t want it to end. You just feel too goddamn good around her to ever possibly stop.

“Mm, I know,” you murmur to her, leaning down to leave a bite mark on her neck. Oh, that drives her insane, making her thrust up inside you even harder, losing all sense of restraint.

“Please let me cum inside you,” she begs, whimpering at each movement over the toy as if it is a part of her, “Please.”

“Cum inside me,” you whisper, lightly tugging at the back of her hair until she moans pathetically, hips stuttering as they try to keep thrusting into you. It ends up pushing her over the edge as well, whimpering a string of curses in foreign languages, mixed with praises of your name. By the end of it all, the sound of rain overtakes you both, with you lying against Arlecchino’s chest, listening to her heartbeat. You spend a while like this, just lying in each other’s embrace, like time stopped just for them.

After a bit, you feel Arlecchino’s hand slide up to your chest as she leans up to kiss you, then kiss your neck again. You feels a hand touch your arm as you look down at her with a stupid grin on your face.

“Now what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m not done with you yet.”

[knavesflames]

I hope everything goes well for you elise! Don't pressure yourself to post anything for now and just focus on slowly recovering. Rest well.

<3

[knavesflames]

hey chat. My name is pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis. I just wanted to reach out to you about your appointment for possible concerns for yeast infection. Please don’t be late!!! (All jokes aside, i am deffo ur number one fan haha and you should take care of urself!!💕)

PLEASEEEEE this made me giggle, thank you for sharing

[knavesflames]

I’m bored but still want to interact with you all so let us play an ask game<3

That send a heart emoji game, but it better encompasses the complex feelings between queer mutuals/followers:

❤️~ I’m deeply in love with you even though we’ve never met Irl

🧡~ I have feelings for you but will never tell you that off anon

💛~ We’re just friends… unless?

💚~ I want to be you

💙~ We’re actually just good friends, but I would die for you

💜~ You’re hot and you intimidate me

🩵~ You’re so cool, and I genuinely want to be besties

🤎~Me, you, and a U-Haul?

❣️~ I don’t know if I hate you or if I’m attracted to you

❤️‍🔥~ Oil up

❤️‍🩹~ Please get help

💌~ Why do you live so far away? 😭

💔~ If we were married we’d get divorced in less than a year

🫀~ You make me go feral

♥️~ You’re my type

💘~ I would fight you in a Wendy’s parking lot

💞~ Enemies to lovers?

💗~ I want to start an intense platonic friendship with you

💓~ We would destroy each other

💕~ You’re my dear old friend (homosexual undertones)

💖~ I’m judging you ☕️

🫶~ We’re bros/besties, but if you asked me out, I wouldn’t necessarily say no…

🫰~ I antagonize you because I care <3

😘~ I have a crush on you, AND I want to be you

🥰~ Pay attention to me 🥺

💑~ Let’s be roommates 😉

🤍~ You scare me, and not in a hot way

🩶~ We would not get along

🖤~ I’m outside your window 😀

💟~ I’m afraid of messaging you first

[knavesflames]

Thank you for all your lovely comments ☹️ the consultation went well and the surgery is sooner than expected. Like. Much sooner. More sex writing soon…

Hello please read it’s important love you all

You may have noticed the lack of posting.. again. I am so sorry😭 but chat, I’m so sick, it’s not even funny. I got fanfic writer curse.

I’ve been sick since June this year, went to the hospital for the first time in September, spent two days in a coma type thing back in October, and… yeah, it’s not good. It’s the sickest I’ve ever been.

I am Trying to live as normal for now, but I need to have a surgery to be able to do so, and the surgery keeps being delayed due to new problems arising. My surgery was supposed to be this month, actually, but I fell ill again at Christmas (and subsequently spent both my birthday and new years in hospital grrrr), and because of how many times I’ve been ill with this specific thing— I would have died if they operated. I’ve almost died four times since September, I’m a bit bored now LMAO

Each infection I get almost kills me and the surgery they need to do was too risky to complete now in the hospital I was at. I’ve been living with this kind of drain coming out of my body to make sure I don’t get infection riddled again. But if I’m not sick with that, there’s something else. It’s just never ending. I got told “we can operate now, but you’ll die. Are you willing to risk that?” And a lot of other things, but yes. Dark shit. Scary shit. (I pretend I’m not but I feel like a scared child weee)

Tomorrow I have an appointment to take lots of tests and have a conversation about when my surgery will be, but honestly? This is the closest we’ve gotten to actually recovering, and I’m not trying to stress myself out more than I have to. I’m often tired and I use most of my energy with education and talking to the people I love dearly (which, I admit, I’m slacking on too) and writing just… has barely been on my mind.

I do come on this blog and feel very guilty and i feel like i have an obligation to post SOMETHING even if its an explanation as to why my posts have been less and in worse quality because of the sheer number of you.

I shall return to my once weekly posts soon. For now I shall try to post when I can. Maybe I’ll queue a couple for when I know my surgery date. Yes. Mwah. Love you all.

Also, if you read this far, give me ideas of what I can call you guys in my box!! Other than chat. I use chat too often, something more this tumblr centric

(And don’t be silly like teenager me and not eat— it causes a multitude of problems, it caused THIS problem. I take accountability for my actions but my LORD it has opened my eyes guys please for the love of god take care of yourselves)

[knavesflames]

Hello please read it’s important love you all

You may have noticed the lack of posting.. again. I am so sorry😭 but chat, I’m so sick, it’s not even funny. I got fanfic writer curse.

I’ve been sick since June this year, went to the hospital for the first time in September, spent two days in a coma type thing back in October, and… yeah, it’s not good. It’s the sickest I’ve ever been.

I am Trying to live as normal for now, but I need to have a surgery to be able to do so, and the surgery keeps being delayed due to new problems arising. My surgery was supposed to be this month, actually, but I fell ill again at Christmas (and subsequently spent both my birthday and new years in hospital grrrr), and because of how many times I’ve been ill with this specific thing— I would have died if they operated. I’ve almost died four times since September, I’m a bit bored now LMAO

Each infection I get almost kills me and the surgery they need to do was too risky to complete now in the hospital I was at. I’ve been living with this kind of drain coming out of my body to make sure I don’t get infection riddled again. But if I’m not sick with that, there’s something else. It’s just never ending. I got told “we can operate now, but you’ll die. Are you willing to risk that?” And a lot of other things, but yes. Dark shit. Scary shit. (I pretend I’m not but I feel like a scared child weee)

Tomorrow I have an appointment to take lots of tests and have a conversation about when my surgery will be, but honestly? This is the closest we’ve gotten to actually recovering, and I’m not trying to stress myself out more than I have to. I’m often tired and I use most of my energy with education and talking to the people I love dearly (which, I admit, I’m slacking on too) and writing just… has barely been on my mind.

I do come on this blog and feel very guilty and i feel like i have an obligation to post SOMETHING even if its an explanation as to why my posts have been less and in worse quality because of the sheer number of you.

I shall return to my once weekly posts soon. For now I shall try to post when I can. Maybe I’ll queue a couple for when I know my surgery date. Yes. Mwah. Love you all.

Also, if you read this far, give me ideas of what I can call you guys in my box!! Other than chat. I use chat too often, something more this tumblr centric

(And don’t be silly like teenager me and not eat— it causes a multitude of problems, it caused THIS problem. I take accountability for my actions but my LORD it has opened my eyes guys please for the love of god take care of yourselves)