An Invite to Temptation
Synopsis: Arlecchino invites Scaramouche to join in on the fun. Content warning: Dom!Arlecchino x Sub!Fem! reader, Scaramouche x Reader, making out, exhibitionism, threesome, cunnilingus, sesbian lex and scara watches.
4.5k words. NSFW under the cut
Scaramouche opens the door to your shared apartment, his footsteps pausing abruptly at the sight of you and Arlecchino lounging comfortably on the couch. Her arm is draped casually over your shoulder, fingers lightly tracing patterns on your arm. He glares, eyes narrowing as if heโs just walked into something profoundly offensive. With a heavy sigh, he rolls his eyes dramatically.
โTch. You two are disgusting,โ he mutters, the words sharp and biting as they cut through the quiet atmosphere.
You chuckle, completely unfazed by his attitude. Pulling Arlecchino closer, you rest your head against her shoulder. Her presence is warm and grounding, and you feel a sense of contentment despite Scaramoucheโs usual sour demeanor.
โWelcome home to you too,โ you reply smoothly, your voice light with amusement.
Arlecchino says nothing but shifts slightly, her hand lazily continuing its path along your shoulder, adding to the intimacy between you. Scaramouche, visibly cringing at the sight of the two of you all wrapped up in each other, scoffs loudly, crossing his arms as he leans back against the wall, a look of pure disgust etched onto his face.
โSeriously?โ he huffs, eyes flicking between you two. โCanโt you save this revolting display of affection for a private room? Not all of us want to see you practically merged into one person.โ
You snort softly, glancing over at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. โItโs pretty private here. I mean, last time I checked, this is my home.โ
Arlecchino nods in agreement, her expression unreadable but clearly comfortable with the situation. She shifts a little closer, her fingers brushing lightly along your neck. Scaramouche groans dramatically, his patience thinning by the second.
โYeah, real private,โ he sneers, his voice dripping with sarcasm. โItโs not like I just walked in and got an eyeful of... this.โ
He gestures vaguely at the two of you, as if words are insufficient to describe how offensive he finds your closeness. Suddenly, Arlecchino leans in, her breath warm against your ear as she whispers something that makes your heart skip a beat. You shudder, feeling her hand slip beneath the hem of your skirt, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. Scaramouche looks like he's about to keel over. His eyes dart between you and Arlecchino, his initial disdain turning into a look of bewilderment as he catches the suggestive movement of her hand. He raises an eyebrow, clearly at a loss for words.
โYou two are not seriously doing this in front of me, are you?โ His voice is sharp, but there's an undeniable hint of interest creeping in. "Have you no shame?"
โYou can watch,โ Arlecchino says, her words dripping with playful provocation. Arlecchino smirks, her sly smile deepening as she shifts you further back into the couch until youโre lying on your back, head resting on the arm with her between your knees. The world around you seem to fall away as her fingers slide against your skin, spreading your thighs ever so slightly. Her movements are deliberate, almost daring, and you feel the heat of her gaze as she remains focused on you. Scaramoucheโs reaction is almost comicalโhis eyes widen, his usual cold composure completely shattered.
โWhat?โ he sputters, the word coming out in a strangled breath. โYouโre kidding, right? You canโt be serious... right?โ
His voice falters as he averts his gaze, looking anywhere but at the two of you. A light blush creeps up his cheeks, the uncharacteristic color betraying his embarrassment. He shifts his stance awkwardly, crossing his arms tighter, as if trying to form a barrier between him and the situation unfolding in front of him.
"Relax,"
Arlecchino says with a chuckle, her voice low and teasing, her eyes never leaving yours. โWeโre just having a little fun. Unless you're interested in joiningโโ
"As if!"
Scaramouche cuts her off immediately, his face turning even redder. He shakes his head furiously, his voice a pitch higher than usual. โMmโฆ My already so wet, mon amour. Does the thought of him seeing you so debauched for me turn you on this much?โ
โYesโฆ Fuck, Arleโฆ touch me please.โ You respond, unashamed despite Scaramoucheโs eyes on you.
Arlecchino only hums as she begins to slip your underwear off. You shudder, anticipating her touch as her hands slide further up your thighs. At this point Arlecchino is between your spread legs, the angle is just right that your little skirt covers you from Scaramoucheโs gaze. ย He lets out a strangled cough, his face now turning a deep shade of red. He tries to look away, but his eyes keep darting back to you and Arlecchino. He gulps nervously, trying to form a coherent sentence. โYou... You're actually going through with this?โ โWhy not? I mean sheโs too pretty a sight not to share.โ
Arlecchino chuckles, lifting one of your thighs to her shoulder. The change in position allows Scaramouche just enough of a peek to your already wet folds that his breathing quickens together with the pounding of his heart. Heโs rooted to the spot as Arlecchino begins to plant soft kisses onto your inner thighs making you whine her name softly. The sound causes him to throb in his pants.
โWhy donโt you take a seat?โ
Arlecchino regards him, nodding in the direction of the loveseat adjacent from the couch where the two of you lay. Her lips brush against your clit, earning her a shaky exhale from you. At that, she shifts her attention back to you and presses a kiss to your clit. Your fingers tangle into her silky, black and white locks, tugging gently as she inches even closer. Her movements are deliberate and slow, heightening the tension between you both in the way that she knows all-too-well drives you insane. Your breath catches, and when your half-lidded, dazed eyes meet Scaramoucheโs, the charged atmosphere only intensifies.
Scaramouche, frozen in place, seems to struggle with the whirlwind of emotions now stirring within him. His breath hitches sharply, his gaze locked onto yours despite his earlier disgust. Thereโs something deeper in his eyes nowโan unmistakable blend of embarrassment, flickers of desire, and even a faint glint of envy. The tension in the room feels palpable, thick with unspoken feelings. He shifts uncomfortably on the edge of his seat, his fists clenched tightly in his lap as he fights to maintain his composure. Despite his earlier protests, his body betrays him. His flushed cheeks and the way his gaze keeps darting back to you say more than his words ever could. For a moment, the air is thick with possibility, a crossroads between temptation and restraint. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, a brief involuntary gesture as his mind wrestles with the conflicting emotions surging through him. The cold, biting persona he usually hides behind seems to be slipping, and heโs struggling to regain control.
Arlecchino, sensing the charged energy, lets out a soft, amused hum. She doesn't look at Scaramouche directly, but itโs clear sheโs aware of the effect the two of you are having on him. Her lips brush lightly against your folds as she speaks, her words barely above a whisper, but loud enough to slice through the tension like a knife.
โLooks like weโve got an audience.โ
Arlecchino says with amusement, noting the way Scaramouche looks at you, drinking in the sight of you as if he was a man whoโs been starved for centuries. You feel a ripple of amusement mix with the heat rising in your body. Scaramouche tenses visibly, his jaw clenching as he tears his eyes away, his pride warring with the raw vulnerability that has been laid bare. He looks as if heโs about to say something, but no words come out, only the faintest, shaky exhale.
โArlecchinoโโ he finally begins, voice low and strained, as if heโs fighting every word. โThis... this is insane. Youโre both insane.โ
Arlecchino's chuckle is soft but dangerous, a sound that seems to vibrate in the air between you. Her hand slides down your thigh, her gaze never wavering from you, but the weight of her words is unmistakably directed at him.
โInsane? Maybe. But arenโt you curious, Scaramouche? How good your roommate would look cumming on my tongue? How heavenly she sounds? You should be honored Iโm letting her sing for you.โ
His breath comes out in a shaky sigh, and for the briefest moment, you see his composure crack. He doesnโt respond, but the silence speaks volumes. The room remains heavy with the tension of the moment, the air thick with the unspoken desires and the battle raging behind Scaramouche's guarded eyes. Your head tilts back, lips parted as you let out a moan that reverberates through the room, filling the air with a palpable sense of desire. Arlecchinoโs tongue moves with deliberate skill, and her own soft moan in response only deepens the intensity of the moment. The tension between your bodies is electric, almost too much to bear. Scaramouche feels a wave of heat wash over him, his stomach tightening painfully as he grips the arm of the chair beside him, his knuckles turning white from the strain. He swallows hard, trying to ground himself, but itโs no use. The sight of you, so unashamed and vulnerable, moaning with reckless abandon, stirs something deep inside himโsomething heโs never allowed himself to think about until now.
You moan his name, soft and breathless, โScaraโฆโ
The sound is like a spark, igniting something within him that he didnโt realize was there. Hearing his name roll off your tongue in such a needy, pleading way sends a jolt straight to his core, and he instinctively shifts in his seat, resisting the overwhelming urge to adjust himself. Heโs not supposed to feel like this. Not toward you. Not while watching this. But thereโs no denying it anymoreโthe way his pulse quickens, the heat creeping up his neck, the tension coiling in his body. His thoughts are racing, tangled between discomfort and the undeniable pull of desire thatโs gnawing at him from within.
"Archonsโฆ"
He mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible, almost as if he's trying to convince himself that he's still in control. But even as he whispers it, the tension in his body betrays him. His gaze flickers back to you, drawn against his will to the sight of your flushed skin, the way your body arches slightly in response to Arlecchinoโs ministrations.
Arlecchino, ever perceptive, notices the effect youโre having on him. Her eyes flick briefly toward Scaramouche, a predatory glint in them as she continues with deliberate purpose, almost as if sheโs drawing him into this intimate dance, even from across the room.
Scaramouche bites down on his lip, hard, trying to focus on anything but the growing heat pooling in his lower abdomen. His breaths come quicker, shorter, and he feels a bead of sweat form at his temple. Heโs never felt so conflicted, torn between his usual aloofness and this unfamiliar, overpowering desire surging through him. He tries to look away, to close his eyes and shut out the scene unfolding before him, but the sound of your voice, that soft, yearning moan of his name, keeps echoing in his mind, pulling him deeper into this vortex of sensation.
"Scara..." you moan again, your voice more desperate this time, and the last of his resolve crumbles. He can no longer deny whatโs happening inside himโhe wants you, needs you, in ways he never imagined. His hands clench tighter around the edge of the desk, his mind spinning as he wrestles with his own desires. In the back of his mind, he knows he should leave, should retreat to his room and pretend this never happened. But something keeps him rooted in place, watching, feeling, wantingโdespite every part of him thatโs screaming to stop. โGo ahead, you can touch her. Just not here. This pussyโs mine.โ Arlecchinoโs words hang in the air, sharp and possessive, as she punctuates her claim on you with a harsh suck that sends a surge of pleasure through your body. Your back arches involuntarily, hands pulling at her hair, a loud whine escaping your lips. The sound draws Scaramoucheโs attention, his jaw tightening as he processes her invitation. His mind is torn, screaming that this is a line he shouldnโt cross, but his body betrays him, filled with a growing, undeniable desire to touch you, to feel your skin under his hands.
He takes a shaky breath, trying to steady himself. โAre you sure? I... I donโt want to overstep any boundaries.โ His voice wavers, hesitant as he looks at both you and her for permission.
โDonโt make me change my mind.โ Arlecchino growls, her tone brooking no argument. Her grip on your thighs tightens possessively, her head buried deeper between them, the heat of her movements sending shockwaves of pleasure through you.
โHaahโฆ Arle, feels so goodโฆโ
Scaramouche swallows hard at the warning, knowing full well she isnโt one to be defied. But itโs your moans, needy and raw, that ultimately seal his decision. His feet move before his mind can catch up, standing from his seat and closing the distance between you and him. His gaze flickers between you and Arlecchino, heart pounding in his chest, hands trembling as they hover just above your skin.
You whine softly at him, the sound barely above a whisper, โWanna kissโฆโ
At your words, Arlecchino growls softly, her actions growing more intense as her tongue works relentlessly against you. She sucks harshly, drawing a loud, desperate moan from your throat as her name tumbles from your lips. The sound drives Scaramouche to the edge, his body reacting to your every movement, to the way you squirm under Arlecchinoโs touch.
His eyes darken as he leans in, his breath ghosting over your lips, tantalizingly close. โYou want me to kiss you, huh?โ he asks, his voice low, taunting. A smirk plays on his lips, but beneath the facade, the heat in his gaze is undeniable. โAsk nicely, then.โ
Before you can respond, Arlecchinoโs head lifts just slightly, making you whine ever-so-softly from the loss of contact. She glares at Scaramouche, her tone sharp with warning. โYou have no right making demands of her.โ Her voice is firm, unwavering, and the possessiveness in it is impossible to miss. โDo as she says before you anger me.โ
Scaramoucheโs eyes flicker with brief annoyance, the idea of being ordered around clearly grating on him. But one look at Arlecchinoโs fierce expression reminds him of her power in this moment, and he knows better than to push his luck. He lets out a frustrated huff, his defiance melting under the weight of her authority. His gaze softens as it meets yours again, his resistance crumbling as he sighs.
โFine. You asked for it.โ
Without another word, Scaramouche leans down, kneeling beside the couch and closing the final inch between you. His lips crash against yours in a kiss thatโs anything but gentle. Itโs possessive, hungry, as if heโs been holding back for far too long. His hand finds your cheek, fingers trembling slightly at the first real touch, and he deepens the kiss, his body pressing closer to yours as he loses himself in the moment.
At the exact same moment, Arlecchino reminds you of her presence by sliding a blackened hand beneath your shirt, cupping your breast harshly through the lace bra. The world seems to blur around you, the heat of his kiss mixing with the relentless pleasure from Arlecchinoโs touch and tongue, sending your senses into overdrive. Scaramouche groans deeply, the sound muffled as your moan vibrates against his mouth. His lips move against yours with an almost desperate hunger, the heat between you two igniting like wildfire. His hands slide down to grip your waist, fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you closer, wanting more. The need in him is palpable, his tongue flicking along your bottom lip, seeking permission to deepen the kiss.
โFuck!โ
Your gasp breaks the tension as Arlecchino slips two fingers inside you, her touch sending a jolt through your body. The cry that escapes your lips is raw and involuntary, your body arching into her, giving in to the sensation. In that brief moment of vulnerability, you part your lips just enough for Scaramouche to slip his tongue inside, deepening the kiss with a fervor you hadnโt expected from him. He groans again, the taste of you driving him wild, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth with a newfound boldness. His grip on your waist tightens, as if heโs afraid to let go, afraid to lose the connection. Every inch of your body is buzzing with sensationโArlecchinoโs fingers working you expertly while Scaramoucheโs kiss devours you, his breath hot and heavy as his desire matches your own.
The room feels suffocating, heavy with lust and need, and the tension between the three of you crackles in the air like electricity. Arlecchino doesnโt slow her pace, her fingers curling inside you just right, making your hips buck in response, pulling her name from your lips once again.
Your breath comes in ragged gasps as you feel the pressure building within you, your body trembling on the edge. โA-Arleโฆ mโcloseโฆโ you manage to whimper, voice strained, the desperation evident in every syllable. Arlecchino hums against your clit, a low, satisfied sound that vibrates through your skin, only intensifying the pleasure sheโs giving you. Her movements become more focused, determined, as if spurred on by the sound of your need.
Scaramouche pulls away for a moment to watch the two of you with a sharp, almost predatory gaze, his eyes clouded with lust and jealousy. His breathing has grown heavy and uneven, his composure unraveling as he witnesses the scene unfolding before him. His hand moves to cup your chin, tilting your head gently so that he can see the expression on your faceโyour flushed cheeks, parted lips, and the look of bliss etched in your features.
Hearing your voice tremble as you moan Arlecchinoโs name fuels the fire burning within him. An unfamiliar flash of jealousy tightens in his chest, the possessive part of him wanting you to call his name instead. But he pushes that feeling aside, using it to fuel the intensity of his actions. His lips crash against yours again, his kiss desperate and consuming, his tongue dancing with yours as he drinks in every sound you make. He wants to taste your pleasure, to feel it resonate through him.
You moan against Scaramoucheโs lips, your body wound tighter and tighter, your senses overwhelmed by both of them. Every flick of Arlecchinoโs tongue, every curl of her fingers inside you, pushes you closer to the edge, and Scaramoucheโs hungry kiss only adds to the intensity. His low growl reverberates through your mouth, a primal sound that vibrates against your lips, sending shivers down your spine.
Unable to control himself, Scaramouche grinds his hips against the edge of the couch heโs been leaning on, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through his body. He groans into your mouth, his tongue delving deeper, exploring you with desperation, as if heโs trying to claim every inch of you. His hand trails down from your chin, his fingers brushing the soft skin of your neck, tracing your collarbone and down to your shoulder. His touch is light but filled with intent, as though heโs memorizing every curve of your body.
Just when you think you canโt take it any longer, Arlecchino delivers a final, harsh suck, and it shatters whatever fragile hold you had left. Your body convulses, pleasure exploding through you in waves as you scream her name, your release hitting you like a tidal wave. Every muscle in your body contracts, and you feel yourself unravel under their touch, lost in the overwhelming sensation.
As you come undone, Scaramouche feels your muffled moans and cries reverberate through your shared kiss, your trembling body sending shudders through him as well. Heโs completely enraptured by the way you respond, the way your moans seem to echo in his head, feeding the need within him. He watches, dazed, as Arlecchino pulls away slightly, but not before batting his hand away from you with an almost playful impatience. Without hesitation, Arlecchino swoops in, her lips capturing yours in a hungry, urgent kiss. You moan into her mouth, tasting yourself on her tongue, the intimate connection between the two of you heightening your sensitivity. Itโs raw and possessive, her grip on you unrelenting, as if sheโs reminding both you and Scaramouche that you belong only to her. Scaramouche, momentarily stunned by being pushed aside, watches the scene unfold with a mixture of awe and frustration. Arlecchino pulls away from your lips after a moment, her breathing heavy, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. She holds up her hand, showing off her glistening fingers to both you and Scaramouche, a wicked grin spreading across her lips. The sight of your release coating her fingers sends a jolt of heat through Scaramouche, his mouth going dry as he stares, unable to tear his eyes away.
"Look at what youโve done," Arlecchino purrs, her voice low and teasing as she holds her fingers in the air, taunting both you and Scaramouche. The slick forms webs between her blackened digits, making Scaramouche imagine what it would taste like. What you would taste like. He gulps the thought down.
โSo beautiful, arenโt you?โ Her gaze flickers between the two of you, daring him to react. You simply whine in response, unable to even think with how intensely your orgasm has overtaken you. You remain boneless, watching the exchange between the two through dazed eyes. Scaramoucheโs chest tightens as he swallows heavily, trying to compose himself, but the sight of you and Arlecchino, the taste of your moans still lingering on his lips, makes it impossible to regain control. His fingers twitch at his side, itching to touch you again, but for now, all he can do is watch, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as the tension between the three of you continues to simmer. Scaramoucheโs eyes fixate on Arlecchino's fingers, his breath catching as he takes in the sight of your wetness glistening on her skin. His face heats up instantly, a flush spreading across his cheeks that he canโt hide. The image sears itself into his mind, the raw intimacy of it making his stomach tighten with an emotion he can't quite placeโjealousy, desire, frustration, all tangled together.
โI believe thatโs enough for you now,โ Arlecchino says coolly, her tone carrying a note of finality. โIโm sure youโve got enough material to get you off for months.โ She licks the wetness from her lips and fingers slowly, deliberately, her eyes flicking toward Scaramouche with a smirk as she does so. Every move feels like a taunt, like a reminder that she holds the power here.
Scaramouche swallows hard, his throat suddenly dry as he watches her, unable to tear his gaze away from the sight. His heart pounds in his chest, the frustration bubbling just beneath the surface as he bites the inside of his cheek to keep from saying something rash.
โExcuse me,โ Arlecchino adds nonchalantly, as though this entire moment hasnโt left the room charged with tension. โI have to take my girlfriend up to rest.โ
With that, she effortlessly scoops you into her arms, cradling you as if you weigh nothing. Scaramouche watches, his muscles tensing as he sees the possessive way she holds you, the way she claims you with every gesture. There's an ache in his chest that he can't ignore, a raw, visceral longing mixed with resentment as you disappear behind the door with her.
He remains seated, staring at the now-closed door with a frustrated huff, his body betraying him as desire and frustration course through him. His chest heaves, breath unsteady, and his pants feel far too tight as he shifts uncomfortably. The room feels far too quiet now, the absence of your presence hanging thick in the air. His mind reels, trying to make sense of everything heโs just witnessed, emotions swirling like a storm inside him.
Before long, Arlecchino returns downstairs, her movements casual yet carrying the same air of dominance that seems to surround her. Scaramouche looks up, his eyes still darkened by the unresolved tension in him. His face is flushed, and despite his efforts to maintain his composure, thereโs a hardness in his expressionโa mixture of frustration and envy that he canโt quite shake.
Arlecchino meets his gaze with her usual steely confidence, her smirk ever-present. Scaramouche clenches his jaw, fighting the bitter retort that rises to his lips, but his emotions get the better of him. He lets out a frustrated huff, running a hand through his messy hair, glaring at her through narrowed eyes.
โI hope you donโt think this means you can touch her whenever you please.โ
โI know my place,โ he mutters, the words dripping with sullen bitterness. But even as he says it, the jealousy gnaws at him, an unspoken desire simmering beneath the surface.
โGood,โ Arlecchino replies, her tone casual, but there's a dangerous edge to her voice. She takes a step closer, her eyes gleaming with amusement as she adds, โMaybe next time Iโll have you between her legs, servicing her instead.โ
Scaramoucheโs eyes widen, his jaw dropping open in shock. The possibility of a next time suddenly on the table. For a moment, heโs completely at a loss for words, his mind struggling to process what sheโs just said. The boldness of her suggestion hits him like a punch, his body going rigid with embarrassment and surprise. His face flushes an even deeper shade of red, and he lets out a strangled cough, trying to regain his composure.
โW-what?โ he stammers, his voice cracking slightly. โYou... you canโt be serious.โ His heart races, and the thought of what sheโs implying sends his mind spiraling. He canโt tell if sheโs toying with him or if she genuinely means it, and that uncertainty only makes him more flustered.
Arlecchino tilts her head slightly, her smirk widening at his reaction. โMaybe,โ she says, her voice low and teasing, leaving just enough ambiguity to keep him guessing. โIโll be off now.โ
With that, she turns and leaves without another word, her footsteps fading as she exits the room. Scaramouche remains frozen for a moment, his fists clenched at his sides, his mind still spinning from her parting remark. He feels the tension in his body, the way his heart races uncontrollably, the way his breath comes in shallow bursts. Everything about this moment has left him shaken, and not just with frustrationโthereโs something else stirring deep within him that he refuses to acknowledge.
โBastardโฆโ he mutters under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he watches the space where she had stood moments before. โWho does she think she is, saying something like thatโฆโ
But even as he mutters those words, Scaramouche canโt stop the thoughts racing through his mind, the conflicting emotions that refuse to settle. His heart is still pounding, his body still buzzing, and as much as he tries to calm himself, the fire Arlecchino stoked within him refuses to be extinguished.
