„Making your mother worry in her current condition by taking on- stealing a mission way above your experiences. I don’t even know where to begin with your punishments in the first place.“
„Yes father…“
It was a stupid idea, really. Secretly snagging a paper off of their father‘s desk and trying to handle the task on their own. A task that had good reason to be classified as „Extremely dangerous! Do not assign any Harbinger below number five“.
But they got lucky. Besides a few bruises and a concussion, the three of them got away relatively well- thanks to their father arriving at the scene in time. Infiltrating a secret stronghold of the cartel, you could almost mistake them for suicidal.
Originally Lyney wanted to show the head of the Hearth that he truly is capable enough of taking over her position in the orphanage. To show her that he isn’t the weak boy she once took under her wing and prove himself worthy of his role as the Knave‘s successor. But Lyney failed. Failed and dragged his two siblings with him into this misery and the worst things of all- something he didn’t even take into account- is that he would burden his beloved mother with their sudden disappearance. The boy knew that Arlecchino would be beyond angered with them, yet he failed to remind himself of his father‘s counterpart and her current condition.
And Lyney never felt worse in his entire life.
The walk to your shared bedroom was a dreadful one. Each step seemed heavier than the last one as he could feel his heart pounding in his stomach. He hadn’t eaten in almost two days but the thought of the confrontation alone made him want to puke over the polished floors of their manor.
Before she opened the door to their private space, Arlecchino looked back at them over her shoulder. Crimson eyes screaming nothing but pure disappointment and something else. Something that the trio didn’t want to pinpoint. „You will not cry. You will not be hysterical. You will be quiet. The last thing your mother needs is more stress right now. Did I make myself clear?“, the sharpness which she sprinkled over her words didn’t fail to send a shiver down each of their spines. She wasn’t talking to them like a Father, but a cold-blooded diplomat right now.
„Yes, father…“, only then she slowly turned around the doorknob in her hand before pushing the wood open, the large bedroom spreading before them and revealing an exhausted figure surrounded by pillows, blankets and what not.
But no amount of layers could hide the visible baby belly sticking out underneath them.
„Children…!“, as if you were awaiting them, your arms spread open for a warm embrace, tears immediately clouding your vision at the sight of your kids still being in one piece. Being just one week away from giving birth was heavier on the nerves than one might think and the sudden disappearance of the three idiots got you so worked up it knocked you out twice. Two times where Arlecchino had to watch her wife grow sick with worry while heavily pregnant. It almost took her out herself if we are being honest.
The first one to break the „no-crying“ rule was Freminet. The blonde young man wordlessly hugging you with his whole heart, apologizing for his wrongdoings and worst of all: Making his poor Mother worry. The only reason Arlecchino didn’t intervene in his outburst of emotions was because of the shake of your head, gesturing her to tend to her own problems and letting you handle the situation.
Her discipline isn‘t needed right now.
„Oh, archons above you had me so worried…“, after some hesitation, Lynette added herself into your arms- careful not to put pressure on the bump as a few silent tears prickled up in the corners of her eyes at your display of worry and relief. Your gentle hand ran through their messy hair strands, letting your nails scratch over the scalp every now and then as whispers of how worried they had you and how happy you were that they came back safely fell into their ears.
But one person was still missing in your embrace.
„Lyney…?“
His only answer was a mere shake of his head as he strictly stared down at the floor. The hat he usually wore so proudly clasped in his hand as he did everything in his power to avoid eye contact. The sight of your child so incredibly beaten down and angry with himself did nothing but contribute to the heavy blanket on your heart.
„…Would you mind leaving me alone with your brother for now…?“
The room grew silent after Arlecchino shut the door behind her. She wasn‘t allowed to be a part of this conversation. You took a whiff of the fresh camomile tea in your hands before taking a cautious sip, testing out the temperature. It was still a little too hot on the tongue.
„Lyney-”
„I don‘t deserve it. Your forgiveness.“, his voice was shaking. Just like his shoulders. The words coming out trembling as he still refuses to lift his head. „That… may be true… you mingled with your Father‘s affairs, you put yourself in immense danger, you dragged your siblings with you into this mess and you had me worried for three of my children’s lives for the duration of three whole days.“
„-and all while you’re pregnant I’m-”
„I do not define myself through my pregnancy. I am not ill, I’m merely heavily pregnant for just another week. Don‘t let your father‘s protectiveness cloud your judgement on me. Yes, my state is reason enough to worry but I’m fine, the baby is fine. My pregnancy is not an important factor in this conversation here.“, he admired you for that. For always standing your ground no matter against who or when. You truly are the Knave‘s wife and people have reasons enough to avoid you for that fact alone. Yet, he couldn’t stop it when the first tears started to fall.
„Come here, my child… And I don’t want any more excuses now.“, you sounded so gentle. So incredibly soothing. It reminded him of all the times you soothed him back to sleep after he first got taken in by your husband. He suffered terrible nightmares back then, often waking up screaming for his twin sister, cold sweat coating his scolding hot skin before he felt a cool hand wipe his forehead clean while soft words murmuring about that he‘s save here- that you wouldn’t allow them to ever feel this helpless again.
That same cool hand was now wiping the tears off of his cheeks. Handling him as if he were still a small teenager while you held your own emotions back what felt like a heavy blanket covering your chest.
„There, there… but keep in mind that what you did was still wrong and your father has every right to take appropriate measures for that. Goodness… do you have any idea how worried you had her…? Right down terrified…“, your words hit him deeper than any blade ever could. His father was worried for them. For their safety.
You could only notice the sobbing getting heavier in response.
„She knows she can’t always protect you kids. But she is trying, so hard. She is doing her best to ensure you live a halfway normal life despite our affiliations with the Fatui… Your father has buried many of her children over the years. And at no point has it ever gotten easier for her, so imagine what was going through her head when she noticed that missing paper on her desk…“, you will never forget the raw terror carved into her face in that very moment. How her hand grabbed after the edge of her desk for support. How quiet she suddenly got at the realization.
She long ago accepted the fact that she can’t always shield her children from the enemy called „Death“ but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t do everything in her power to try to prevent having to choose between gravestones and caskets again.
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 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.
„shall i write it out for you on a formal invitation?“
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.
Author’s Note: I wanted to test myself and write something I don’t think I’d be able to write. I hope you enjoy it. This one is for my friends who proofread my work without any complaints. ♡
Proofread: Lightly. Grammatical errors may be there.
Summary: The Knave was incapable of love– that’s what everyone said. That’s what everyone thought. How could she of all people have a lover? Well, rumors were rarely ever true. And this time? They were completely wrong.
Word Count: 577 words
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ꕥ Everyone thought the Knave didn’t have a lover. In fact, most assumed she was incapable of love. You couldn’t blame them, though. She was cold, intimidating. Her eyes seemed to have no glimmer at all. They seemed… lifeless, emotionless. They weren’t that way because she didn’t feel, though. They were that way because she’d felt too much. And now? She had to be strong for the one person that mattered to her more than life itself.
ꕥ That person was you. You’d grown used to people falling speechless when they discovered that you were Arlecchino’s lover. The rumors were… well, interesting. You didn’t have any other word to describe them. They thought you’d be someone equally cold, someone who looked at people like they didn’t matter, someone who was a terrific warrior.
ꕥ No one imagined her lover to be just an ordinary girl. You looked too fragile–too lovely– to be hers: fluffy, windswept hair, expressive eyes that glimmered under the stars, hands that looked like they were made for writing instead of wielding a weapon. Maybe, that’s why she loved you so much.
ꕥ Unlike most people, she was never one to voice her feelings aloud. Yes, she spoke her mind. But, she never spoke her heart. She loved you. You knew she did. She just expressed it… differently.
ꕥ Her love language? Acts of service. Noticed it was about to rain? Her coat was immediately over your shoulders. You’d get out of bed and the first thing you’d notice was the coffee she’d made for you, sitting on the nightstand in your favorite mug. As for finances? You didn’t have to worry, because she had everything taken care of. It wasn’t that you had no mora, no– you did make enough mora to take care of the both of you. However, in her mind? Why would you spend your mora if she could provide for you?
ꕥ Nothing about you escaped her memory. She remembered every single thing about you. Every single thing you’d mention in passing. You’d mentioned liking a specific perfume. Three months later? You found it in your vanity. Wanted some alterations in the dress you’d just gotten tailored? She’d already had them done before you could go yourself. (She’d noticed you frowning in the mirror while inspecting the dress. She had the alterations finished before sunset.)
ꕥ Her biggest regret was that she couldn’t spend as much time with you as she wanted. The Fatui, the Tsaritsa, the House of the Hearth– all of them kept her away from her beloved. Her work began before you woke and ended long after you’d fallen asleep. Her heart sank every time she saw your dejected face whenever she had to leave from Snezhnaya. It made her want to leave the Fatui and spend the rest of her time, her life with you. But, that wasn’t possible, no? Harbingers just couldn’t “quit”.
ꕥ She kept you far, far away from Fatui business. She hadn't even mentioned your existence to the other Harbingers. Love was leverage, after all. And the last thing she wanted was you getting hurt, or worse just because someone wanted to put her in line. She wanted your world to be untouched by the cruelty and shrewdness of hers. You were the last lovely thing in her life, after all. You reminded her what being human was like. She’d burn down Teyvat itself if something were to happen to you.
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Written by @alalalalalalalalalalalalalalaska . Please do not repost or use my work without permission.
Ass, tits or thighs? (Ft nod krai cast) (Typical warnings of NSFW, fem!reader, mentions of a lactation kink in Albedo's, possible OOC for all of them. Fight me all you want in the comments if you want. English is not my first language)
(this plot is so overused. Does that mean I care? No, I'll do whatever I want so just enjoy my analysis or whatever)
Varka: Ass
He'd be super embarrassed about this question and probably blurt out "personality" or something like that. A knight shouldn't be so improper with his lover! But sometimes you see him staring a little too long on your behind for it to be a "friendly" look when you bend over to pick something up. If he's ever holding you close to him, his hands are always on the hips or waist, just close enough to your ass but never doing anything until you ask. Basically cock blocking himself lmao
Flins: Thighs
Also the type to say "personality" but more of an endearing way than anything else. Probably be like "you are so enchanting, how could I pick just one?" So he says personality instead. Though, he's never one to complain if he gets a nice shot of your thighs, doesn't care if they're small or big. He seems like the type of guy to enjoy giving oral, so having your thighs around his head is probably a fantasy of his.
Nefer: tits
Not ashamed of her answer, and it was quite obvious. She doesn't care about your body type either. If you're flat, she likes pinching and playing with your nipples from underneath your shirt, perhaps dragging her fingers along your areola. If you're well endowed she prefers to squish your tits between her fingers to relieve stress. One thing's for certain, with those claws on her fingers your skin will hurt and look red. Good thing she has her mouth to help.
Lauma: tits
Unlike Nefer, she prefers to admire your body from afar more than anything, and she is most importantly not crude. She likes laying her head on your chest regardless if your tits are big or not. If you're ever sore she likes massaging them within her fingers, but she'll never go past your boundaries. Though, if you ask her to take a step further she wouldn't mind, after all she does have a few fantasies and needs of her own.
Nicole: thighs
If you ever asked her this question, she'd at first go on a tangent about how human evolution evolved and why we find such body parts appealing despite them being storehouses of fat for the most part. If you ask her to give a straight answer she'd say thighs. She likes it when you wear shorts, maybe when you sit down and they seem to look bigger. Regardless of their size she likes to lay her head down there and stare up at you whilst yapping about another topic. If she feels cheeky she might bite.
Alice: ass
Practically has an obsession with slapping your ass, with how red it gets from her fondling sometimes. Especially likes it if you wear a tight dress or shorts, she just loveees admiring your figure. She may be busy but that won't exactly stop her from meeting you often enough to eye-fuck you. If you have a tattoo on your lower back best believe she's kissing that senseless. Other than that, she prefers to bend you over with her strap and take you from behind.
Arlecchino: thighs
You're often the one straddling her waist while she does her paperwork, and her hands always find themselves digging into your thighs. She'll stop if it hurts, but gods does she love looking at your legs when they're properly marked by her fingers. If she's eating you out expect plenty of teeth marks around your inner thigh. When she's holding you by your waist, she finds her fingers drawing circles on your hip, to outer thigh. Also likes the feeling of control when her hands spread your thighs open.
Columbina: tits
She takes a long time to think about it, especially since she likes all parts of you and never bothered to think about these sexual questions. She eventually says tits because they're the closest to your heart. She spends the time with you mostly listening to your heartbeat, so she finds it fair to prefer your tits. If anything else, you'll sometimes find her either squeezing or pinching your nipples since she's interested on your reactions and how they feel in her palm.
Illuga: tits
He'll freak out at first if you ever ask and refuse to answer. Though, he stares at your chest a lot more than what is necessary. If you have a gap between your tits, he likes fixating on that for whatever reason, especially when he can see that gap from your top. If you don't have a gap, that's fine too because he'll still be staring at how much space your breasts take. If you allow him to touch he'd probably do it once before chickening out. If you offer a titjob he's practically jello in your arms.
Sandrone: no preference
It's either she doesn't care or she cares for all parts of you equally. There's no real problem for her anyway, she takes what's most convenient. If you're cuddling with her her hands will rest on your tits. If you're standing beside her (with no one around) she'll place a hand on her ass. She likes observing how your thighs enlarge when you sit. You can please her with almost anything.
Dottore: different per segment.
Webtorre likes your tits, Omega your ass and prime your thighs. Though, if you attempt to seduce the different versions of him with any one, it will work. Webtorre will be the more eager of the three to grab a hold of your tits. Omega usually just takes whatever chance he gets and places a hand on your ass whenever he gets the opportunity of your bending over. Prime prefers it when you're cockwarming him and your thighs wrap around his waist. He gets hard just from the feeling of your thighs.
Wanderer: no preference
Also another one that doesn't care. If he's carrying you while he's flying, his hand will subtly palm your thighs. Time to time he listens to your heartbeat, so the cushioning on your chest is appreciated. If you don't have any, that's fine too. His hands are (for the most part) on your ass when you're walking together with no one around. He's not overtly dirty too, if you don't like it then he'll immediately stop.
Albedo: tits
I know that for most of the characters you've seen me saying tits but it's more true for him than ever. He feels like the type of guy to have a lactation kink to be honest. Like, he'd research it for normal purposes and be completely normal about it but it will eventually grow on him. If you're ever pregnant with his kid he will suck your tits at least once for a taste. He's very gentle otherwise, compared to a certain Nefer.
mdni. obsessed boyfriend satoru loves showering with you
content. | fluff into smut , mutual masturbation , nipple play , use of ‘princess’ , ‘pretty girl’
a/n: shout out to inventors of mutual masturbation gotta be one of my fav genders
gojo satoru was clingy. very clingy. some of his coworkers even teased him for being so pussy-whipped. he never tried to defend himself against the accusations.
he wanted to be with you all the time and his favorite way of spending time together was none other than in the shower.
morning sunlight streamed into the bedroom. you were grabbing a pair of cute pajamas from the dresser while gojo sat on the bed. he watched with a slight pout and those puppy dog eyes, huffing and puffing.
“why won’t you let me shower with youu?”
you two had been going back and forth for the past five minutes.
“because babe, I know it’s gonna escalate and I have class.”
he rose from the bed and made his way over, long arms snaking around you from behind. he lowered his head to close the height distance and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.
“noo, it’ll be innocent. come on, please?” he murmured against your hair.
you sighed and stared hard at the clothes in your hands. it was so hard to keep a strong resolve when he was all clingy like this. he did work long days and sometimes you guys missed out on quality time.
it was probably unfair of you to limit your already limited time together.
you pulled away from his grasp and led him to the bathroom, glancing over your shoulder. “fine baby, let’s go.”
once you two were undressed and were standing under the warm water, mischief was already swimming in those cerulean eyes. he was so tall and the way he peered down at you sent butterflies swarming in your tummy.
he was semi-hard just from the sight of you but who could blame him? it was the proper reaction upon seeing his perfect girlfriend’s naked body.
“you’re so beautiful, princess.” he said softly, meaning every syllable.
his slender fingers reached out to grab your shampoo before he was pouring an appropriate amount into his open palm. you watched as he lathered it in his hands, a smile tugging at your lips.
“you’re so obsessed with me, ‘toru.” you teased lightheartedly while turning so he could shampoo your hair.
he hummed in agreement and stepped closer, his semi poking your ass while his chest met your back.
with a gentleness, his fingers came up to your head and began working in the soapy liquid. “mhm, gotta problem?”
you smiled and melted under his touch. his fingertips massaged your tender scalp, earning a relaxed sigh from you. “not at all.”
he chuckled and moved closer so your skin stuck together. a part of you was convinced satoru simply couldn’t live without constant skin-to-skin contact. it was fine by you, considering how toned and beautifully built he was.
eventually the shampoo was washed out and he faced you towards him again with a firm hand on your hip. “my favorite part.”
he reached for the washcloth and drizzled your vanilla scented bodywash onto it. you smiled but there was a faint ball of heat forming in your tummy. this was where things usually escalated.
his stare was glued to your body as he dragged the cloth against your neck and shoulders and then lower.
he used the washcloth to lather your chest with airy suds of soap and you felt your entire body warm how it always did. he put the cloth aside for the moment as those same slender fingers came up to rub the foamy soap into your tits.
you blushed and watched his expression. how it was filled with desire and his lips were parted as if he was fantasizing about wrapping them around your nipples like he often did.
he continued rubbing the soap into your plushy skin and slowly inched his fingertips towards your hard points. his eyes met yours as he caught one nipple in between his thumb and forefinger, tweaking it the way you liked.
your lips parted around a soft gasp, the familiar feeling sending all too familiar sparks down to your core. “innocent shower.. ‘toru.” you reminded but there was no strength behind the words.
his mouth quirked up into that cocky smile of his and he just shrugged, pinching the bud.
“just making sure you’re nice and clean.” he mumbled back, his other hand exploring the soft skin around your areola.
you nodded with a small sigh and focused on his touch.
his fingers traveled down your abdomen so slow that it was torturous. you bit back a whimper, the change in his touches already making you weak for him.
he walked you closer under the stream of water while his eyes tracked the soap being washed away from your body.
“pretty girl..” was all he said before he was lowering his head to press soft lips to your waiting mouth. the kiss was wet from the downpour of water and the exchange of sticky saliva.
the rush of water and his mouth hungrily moving against yours muffled the needy noises you let out.
his curious fingers were brushing against your bare mound now while his other hand searched for yours. you knew what he wanted but it was so much better letting him guide you.
his large hand grasped onto your much smaller one and led it towards his fully hard cock that stood out, seeking your attention.
the kiss was broken only for satoru to trail soft kisses down your freshly clean skin. he breathed you in greedily, your signature vanilla so much stronger because it had just barely been rinsed off.
then his pink lips were latching onto your nipple, biting and sucking. you let out a shaky moan and wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock. his girth made it difficult to properly hold him in your hand.
his deep groan reverberated against your breast as he kept his lips in place. meanwhile, one of his hands tightly held onto your hip and his fingers were dipping down to slide through your folds.
“‘toru please..” you whined and pushed your cunt into his hand with desperation. your own hand was working him up, pumping him slowly.
he flicked your nipple with his tongue and at the same time, sunk two slender fingers into your needy hole. velvety walls tightened around the invasion and forced a loud whimper from you.
“move that hand, princess.” he encouraged against the skin of your tits, curling those fingers that were buried deep inside of your cunt.
you nodded wordlessly and pumped his cock faster, squeezing the base in between movements. his fingers began fucking into you at a quicker pace as well, mimicking you.
his breathy groans against your chest mingled with your own cries of pleasure.
“good girl.. keep going for me. wanna — hah — fall apart together.” he breathed out, shaky and uncontrolled.
“wanna come with — ngh — you so bad ‘toru.” you said back in a breathless jumble of words.
you moved your hand with frantic movements, stroking him faster while he brought you closer to your orgasm. he forced a third digit into the tight space, making you cry out.
the pressure coiling in your stomach quickly exploded at the same time his release poured out in white ropes of cum.
“fuck just like that, princess.” he groaned loudly, hips weakly jerking towards you as you continued moving your hand. he was making a mess all over your hand and the shower wall.
your own hips were bucking into his palm as he fucked you through the rushing waves of your orgasm, working you towards another.
his lips found your nipple again and he began suckling loudly, tongue swirling skillfully. the sensation added with the fullness his fingers gave you tore another release from you.
loud whimpers poured out as you soaked his hand with sticky fluids. he pulled out once you came down from it, your own hand falling limp from his softened cock.
“knew this would happen..” you mumbled breathlessly with flushed cheeks and shaky legs.
a slow lazy grin lifted his lips and he was rinsing you off again, reaching for the washcloth while his own chest rose and fell quickly. “whoops.. sorry princess.”
A — Aftercare Arlecchino doesn't leave your side once you're spent. She’s rough, unrelenting in bed—but after? She treats you like glass. Carries you to the bath, cleans between your thighs herself, and massages the soreness from your hips. She won’t say “I love you,” but the kiss she presses to your shoulder while wrapping a towel around you says it louder.
B — Body Part (Favorite) Your neck. Not just because of how fragile it is under her hand, but because it shows everything. Her teeth marks, the bruises from when she gripped you too hard, the fading scratches when she gets too rough. She bites there often, just below your jaw, and watches the way you gasp and squirm. “You’re mine,” she says, low, hot against your skin. “And I want everyone to see it.”
C — Cum She's obsessed with breeding you. Not because she wants kids—hell no—but because she’s territorial. She wants you leaking her cum for hours, soaking your panties, smelling like her. She’ll fuck you deep and still hold your hips down after, keeping her cock buried until she’s sure none of it spills out. “Keep it in,” she growls, watching you tremble. “I worked hard for that.”
D — Dirty Talk Filthy. She never stops talking. “You like being fucked like this, sweetheart?” she’ll purr, slow and cruel. “So desperate for my cock you forgot how to beg properly.” Her voice stays calm, mocking, like she isn’t railing you within an inch of your sanity. She loves degrading you, but only in the moment. Afterward, she’ll whisper, “You took me so well, pretty girl,” like it’s a sacred confession.
E — Experience Plenty. She’s meticulous, calculated—she learned what makes someone fall apart, and she uses it. You’re not her first, but you’re the first she’s kept. And gods, she studies you like scripture. Every time she fucks you is better than the last, because she remembers. Where you get the most sensitive. What rhythm makes your legs shake. How to make you cry just from her fingers.
F — Favorite Position Against the wall. She loves having you off the ground, legs wrapped around her waist, pinned between her and the cold brick. It’s primal. Controlling. And it lets her watch—your back arching, your mouth falling open, that stunned expression when she bottoms out. She’ll fuck you hard, whispering, “You’re not going anywhere.” while you cling to her like she’s the only thing keeping you alive.
G — Goofy Not at all. Sex with Arlecchino is intense. It’s not emotionless, but she doesn’t allow room for laughter or awkwardness. She’s hyper-focused, serious, and commanding. She’ll smirk at how desperate you get—but never laugh at you. Ever.
H — Hair Neatly groomed. She's precise with her appearance, and that applies to everything, including below the belt. Light pubic hair, trimmed, maybe styled into a neat stripe. She doesn’t really care if you shave or not, as long as you smell like her when she's done with you.
I — Intimacy It burns. She won't say it’s love. She’ll say it’s devotion, ownership, obsession—but when she pulls you close after, stroking your cheek with a gloved thumb, you know. She doesn’t sleep with anyone else. Doesn’t want to. You’ve ruined her for other people. She'd burn the world down to keep you in her bed.
J — Jack-Off Rarely. She has self-control, but also arrogance—why use her hand when she could have you on your knees instead? Still, if she’s gone too long without you? She’ll jerk herself off with your panties bunched in her fist, imagining your teary face as she makes you choke on her cock. She always finishes thinking about the way you cry when she makes you cum.
K — Kink Oh, so many.
-Power play — She's your husband, your daddy, your owner in bed. And you love it.
-Overstimulation — She’ll make you cum until you can’t speak, until you’re sobbing, drooling, legs shaking.
-Degradation — “You’re my filthy little wife, aren’t you? Always soaking wet just from my voice.”
-Marking — Biting, scratching, bruising. You belong to her.
-Cockwarming — She loves to keep you filled and silent during meetings. Sit on her lap, legs shaking, while she calmly discusses Fatui politics.
L — Location Everywhere. Her desk at the orphanage. The balcony of the Manor. The dark hallway where no one dares walk past. She loves fucking you where she shouldn’t, where someone could hear. Her favorite, though? Her private quarters. On the massive bed she built for you. Somewhere she can spread you out and take her time.
M — Motivation The way you look at her. You’re so soft, sweet, trusting—everything she’s not. And when you call her daddy with that breathy little voice? She snaps. She needs to ruin you. Not out of cruelty—but because no one else is allowed to see you like that. Ever.
N — No She has hard lines:
-No sharing you. Period.
-No mocking or humiliating your insecurities.
-No disrespecting safewords—if you say “stop,” she stops immediately. She's a control freak, but she protects her toy like a dragon guards its treasure.
O — Oral She adores it. Your mouth wrapped around her cock, tears lining your eyes, trying so hard to take her down to the base. She holds your hair, guiding you slowly, then faster. “Good girl,” she growls when you choke. She’ll cum down your throat and keep you there, groaning softly while she watches you swallow.
P — Pace Slow and punishing. She likes to draw it out. Tease you until you beg. Then fuck you hard enough to make the bed shake. Sometimes, she gets mean—hips snapping forward while she grips your wrists, watching you fall apart. “Cry for me,” she commands. “Let daddy hear how much you need it.”
Q — Quickies Only when absolutely necessary. She prefers to enjoy you. But if she’s worked up and you whisper something filthy while she’s busy? She’ll take you behind a closed door, pull your panties to the side, and fuck you against the wall without breaking eye contact.
R — Risk She likes it risky. Almost being caught. Making you scream in a hallway where her subordinates are stationed. Leaving bruises where her gloves covered your skin. It thrills her—knowing she could get away with it. Knowing no one would dare say a word.
S — Stamina Unholy. This woman can go all night. She doesn’t get tired—you do. She’ll fuck you into unconsciousness, then wake you with soft kisses and a finger already buried between your folds again. “You can take one more, can’t you, sweetheart?”
T — Toys Yes. A box full of them, locked under her bed. Vibrators, plugs, ropes, clamps. Her favorite? A custom vibe she uses on you sometimes, because she likes watching your thighs shake from being ruined two ways in one night.
U — Unfair Cruel. She teases mercilessly. Fingers ghosting your clit but never touching. Kisses everywhere but your mouth. Making you watch her stroke her cock and not letting you touch. “Beg properly, wife. Or I’ll leave you like this all night.”
V — Volume She’s quiet, but intense. Heavy breathing, low groans, and that commanding voice growling filth into your ear. But you? She wants you screaming. “Louder,” she says, hand around your throat. “Let them hear who you belong to.”
W — Wild Card She’s obsessed with mirror sex. Not just to see herself, but to see you. She’ll bend you over, make you watch yourself being fucked, lips parted, eyes glassy. “Look how pretty you are when you’re ruined,” she murmurs. “No wonder I can’t stop.”
X — X-Ray She’s thick. Heavy. Veiny. Long enough to reach deep. Not comically huge—but the kind that hurts in the best way. Curved just slightly up, perfect for dragging along every sensitive spot. Always warm, already leaking before you even touch her.
Y — Yearning She wants you constantly. Doesn’t always act on it—but if you’re nearby, she’s thinking about it. Possessive to the point of obsession. If anyone flirts with you, she’ll fuck you until your legs don’t work. You’re her addiction, her peace, her ruin.
Z — Zzz After? She holds you. Lets you curl into her chest while her cock softens inside you. She plays with your hair, whispers nonsense in your ear. She never sleeps deeply—but if you’re with her? She sleeps better than she has in years.
I imagine Arle to be the type of woman who claws into her pants the moment she notices the baby belly forming. Wow her wife is so heavy and so pregnant from her. That will be at least five more kids. Could also be applied to navia imo…
CW: Pregnant! Reader, mentions of hard ons, your wives are just so bricked for you, masturbation, might be ooc for Arlecchino and Navia
Arlecchino just getting bricked tf up when she sees her wife pregnant for the first time. She hadn’t realized how hot you would look until you’re literally hobbling around with a heavy belly thanks to her. You think you’re unattractive in this state because your body was changing in so many different ways, but here is your husband; literally gripping her pants for dear life to cover up that huge boner. The poor woman would just randomly get hard every time you appear, so she either has to ignore it or excuse herself to the bathroom to rub one out.
Which…is funny to me because Arlecchino is too refined for that. She rarely masturbates imo, but now ever since you got pregnant; she’s been rubbing one out almost 5-6 times a week because she can’t keep it in.
The same would apply to Navia (oh how joyous for me that my wife is included here?). Considering the fact that Navia grew up an only child, you would 100% have multiple children so that they can grow up with siblings. Luckily, Navia is more than on board with the idea, and when she sees that baby bump growing in size, you noticed she switched to wearing longer skirts and dresses rather than her usual outfit.
Curious, you ask, “Navia, why have you begun to wear longer skirts?”
She laughs nervously, “S-Style change…?”
In reality she just didn’t want her dick sticking out of that skirt to show how absolutely hard she was. Those nine months are quite difficult for Navia, especially since she cannot really get intimate with her pregnant wife (unless you ask). So, like Arlecchino she is also going to be rubbing one out often, except she somehow does it more than Arlecchino, surprisingly? I consider Navia’s libido to be a lot stronger than Arle’s, so imagine how much more frequently she would be touching herself during the duration of your pregnancy? She is just stuck to the bathroom whimpering your name </3
I literally can’t stop thinking about Arle feeling me up under my skirt like the secret freak that she is.
Imagine standing next to her, leaning with your hands on her desk as your finger runs over a certain paragraph in your report before you feel her hand run over your thigh. Sharp nails tracing the pattern of your stockings underneath your skirt as she wordlessly gives your ass a squeeze. Dragging a soft gasp from you in the process and thus interrupting you mid sentence. But you still have to finish your business here so you cling with half a mind to the papers spread out before you as your superior rubs her digits up and down your clothed pussy. She also thinks she is hilarious for asking you what’s wrong when you keep stuttering mid sentence as if she isn’t rubbing your clit to mush.
Or maybe in a more public space… sat next to her at a large table during an important event with other Harbingers and business people alike. She is busy with gathering some intel on a possible deal, completely submerged into her diplomatic persona. But one peek underneath the table and it should be clear on what she is actually focusing with her hand between your legs. Fingers working delicately inside your cunt as you press your thighs together, the glass of wine in your hand about to splitter from your deadly grip while you rest your forehead on your other hand. Praying to the gods that nobody will notice those trembling legs when your forced to stand up at the end of this evening.
„My lady, is everything alright?“ A subordinate would probably ask at some point to which you feel your heart mildly drop as the attention on the table suddenly lands on you. Right when your third orgasm of the evening burns through your nervous system. But don’t worry, husband will take care of it for you!
„She doesn’t seem to be handling the alcohol well. All is fine.“
You can’t even excuse yourself to the restroom without her following you closely after. The door barely closed when she pushes it back open. Moving with the urgency of a predator before you feel her hand back under the skirt of your dress. Pressing her lips to your ear as she groans about how good you look tonight. That she can barely concentrate on her work when her wife is so irresistible. Fingerfucking you over the sink as you feel nothing but shame for causing her such trouble, maybe even with a bit of pride…
When the door opens to a pair of friends walking in, she merely steps behind you. Her free hand fixing your hair in front of the mirror while you try to hide your quivering legs. Biting down on your lip to keep the moans down as they freshen up their make up next to you. Hopefully too involved into their conversation to notice how the Knave is causing her wife to make puddle on the floor.
She might just fuck you in the hallway on your way back, too.
arlecchino x f!reader - fluff/romance - words: 1.2k - proofread
summary: another long day of work ahead for arlecchino but she eventually finds herself too exhausted to get ready this particular morning after enduring so much work—lucky for her, her gorgeous wife is more then willing to do her hair and makeup!
note: my first ever fanfic on here,i had so much fun writing this!! sorry if it isnt the best! possibly rushed since i wrote this at 3am 💔
6:00AM.
arlecchino's eyes slowly opened as the sun had begun to rise. she always woke up at this time, a routine drilled into her soul ever since she was crowned her title as the knave. she blinked frantically a couple times to erase the heavy weight on her eyelids to avoid falling back asleep again before turning her head towards the woman sleeping comfortably in her arms: you, her wife. arlecchino couldn't help but remain still for a little longer to admire your features; your long lashes that brushed against the cheeks she kissed, your chest moving up and down with every soft intake of oxygen. gods, she adored you.
minutes went by before she pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and moving away to sit up, stretching her strong arms to relieve the tension in her muscles before getting up from the mattress, exhaustion pulling at every fiber of her being yet she prevailed towards her dressing room to dress in her usual attire: everything seemed to go smoothly—if you excuse the few times her accessories nearly slipped out her hands or when she mistook an incorrect piece of clothing as part of her outfit, each fumble increased her frustration as a fontainian/french curse word slipped past her lips after failing to attach the ruffled cuffs to her wrists for the second time.
she was glad you weren't awake to witness this: you would probably be giggling your pretty little head off at the sight of your usually composed and elegant husband struggling to attach the cuffs to her wrists.
much to her dismay when she discovered you did just in fact wake up, greeted by the sight of your groggy smile when she stepped out the dressing room. arlecchino raised an eyebrow as she adjusted her grey jacket before speaking to you in her deep, silky voice.
“is there a reason your awake this early?”
you only chuckled quietly and adjusted the strap of your nightdress that fell off your shoulder.
“i could hear you cursing like a fontaine sailor from here.”
arlecchino only huffed a breath through her nose—almost like a laugh. she walked towards your shared vanity, she wouldn't admit it but she felt a tinge of embarrassment that you heard her frustration but mostly guilt for disturbing your slumber.
“i apologise for waking you up, dearest.”
she sat down on the vanity chair in front of the mirror and let out a sigh, her shoulders sagging as she surrendered to the dragging feeling of exhaustion. you seem to sense her gloomy mood and quietly slipped out the covers to stand behind her—rubbing her shoulders with your tender fingers.
“everything alright, my love?”
your voice was laced with concern for your husband. arlecchino let out a little noise of relief as you soothed the stress out of her bones, she reached to one of your hands and gently interlocked her blackened fingers with yours, her soft lips kissing the back of your hand with her gaze holding everlasting love just for you—the ring on her finger further proves that.
“im fine, ma cœur.” the endearment slipping smoothly from her tongue. “go back to sleep.”
“peruere..” she seemed to pause, you never spoke her real name unless you really wanted her to listen to you. it surprised herself how she underestimated your stubborn nature as you remained behind her before assessing the situation, your husband's energy completely drained from her body. the sight had even surprised you, she definitely had unbelievable stamina for someone who's still human at the end of the day but no matter the willpower, strength or endurance one has—everyone crashes down from everything eventually. you then pulled your hands away delicately to pick up her hairclip.
“why don't you take it easy today, dear? i’ll take care of you.”
a proposal she couldn't resist even if she tried, especially with those kind eyes and that heavenly smile on your lips. if she wasn't boneless with exhaustion, she would've kissed you senseless where you stood.
“hm, if you insist.” arlecchino relaxed deeper into the chair as you gently began to comb out the small tangles in her snowy, white hair. her eyes seemed to close as she sank into your comfort, it's been a while since she was able to indulge in your love. she missed you so very dearly. she promised to herself that once she found the time, she would repay you for every act of kindness you gave her that was enough to get her through this slow, grueling week. once you had finished combing her hair, you gently gathered it together in one hand and clipped the hair piece onto it, hair clasped together in her signature ponytail. you then reached for her mascara and moved to sit on her lap to get closer to her beautiful face.
her hands moved up to grasp on your waist, rubbing soothing circles on your skin as she stared at you like you were some divine angel. (you were.) -the same red X irises that induced fear with a single glance looked so loving whenever she looked at you. you screwed the mascara open and grasped her cheek softly.
“keep still for me, kay?”
you ordered with a lulling tone and she obeyed with her full undivided attention. you gently stroked the wand of the mascara up her lashes, thickening them for her usual defined look before pressing a kiss to the apple of her warm cheek and screwing the mascara closed again. her lips curved up slightly in delight as she watched you reach for her lipstick, opening the lid and twisting the end to push the lipstick open before smiling widely at her.
“pucker up for me, love.”
she breathed out a little amused huff before pursing her lips together as you slid the lipstick over her lips, the graceful red colouring them.
once you were finally done, you released her cheek from your grasp to close the lipstick and place it back on the desk—you were about to move off her lap when her grip tightened on your waist, one hand moving to grasp the back of your head as she pushed your face towards hers and met your lips halfway, staining your lips with the crimson colour. you let out a little gasp before melting into the feather-light kiss, your arms tangling around her back to kiss her deeper before pulling away and laughing at the sight of her smudged lipstick—not even 10 seconds after applying it and she couldn't resist kissing you.
arlecchino smirked at the sight of the faint smudges of red on your lips, she reached up to grasp your chin and stroked her thumb to further spread the smudge.
“it suits you well, beautiful.”
she kissed you one more time on the cheek, leaving a mark of her puckered lips on your face—you playfully raised an eyebrow at her newfound eagerness.
“you seem to be more awake now.”
arlecchino twirled a piece of your hair around her finger she arched her head condescendingly at you.
“you just seem to have that effect on me, ma chèrie.”
you rolled your eyes and then turned to the clock on your elegant bedroom walls, 7:00AM. 30 minutes until she needed to leave for duties.
“tea before you go?”
“of course.”
you gently lifted yourself off her lap so she could finally stand up, you both walked downstairs into the kitchen to prepare your favourite flavours of tea.
as you chat to your husband with the occasional sips of your tea in between conversation, she felt content with you, twisting the wedding ring on her finger. a physical reminder of the love you both held—you always found ways to soothe her cursed heart that always seemed to pick up pace at the mere sight of you—her gorgeous wife.
ever so often, arlecchino finds you outside in the house's sprawling garden surrounded by the children. at any point, you could be showing them any manner of creature you've somehow managed to grab (gently, of course). just the past week it was a crimson finch that had accidentally flown into the window, and before that it was some lizard (green horned, she can almost hear you say indignantly) that had unfortunately not managed to scurry away from you in time. the children all watch with rapt interest as you cradle the little critter in your palms, softly relaying the assortment of miscellaneous facts you have stored somewhere in that brain of yours. it's an endearing sight, and one that arlecchino indulges in whenever she has the time, or feels the fatigue of staring at inane documents press against the backs of her eyes.
today, however, she watches sat beneath the shade of a willow tree, one leg crossed over the other and fingers curled around the handle of her teacup. it is a rare day of reprieve, and she spends it here in the mild fontainian mediterranean sun, her typical uniform shed in favor of a billowy white shirt and slim-fitting, high-waisted breeches. something has piqued yours and the children's interest, and all of you gather near the garden wall. she can hear the children whisper excitedly as you crouch down, and then they gasp as you stand up.
she raises a brow in interest herself. whatever it is your holding, it seems a little larger than your usual finds. however, with the crowd of children around you, it's difficult for her to actually see what it is you're holding. you spare her a glance over your shoulder, then a minute tilt of your head. a wordless invitation; come. and she does, easily, a thorny bloom to the sun, setting her teacup down with barely a sound and rising to her feet. her heels have been traded for something more casual, and her typical imposing stature has reduced somewhat--though the children still obediently part when she approaches.
"anything of note?" she asks. she studies your face carefully; from the curl of your lip to the creases at the corners of your eyes to the slope of your brow. of all things, she finds it is mischief that inhabits your expression, and she mentally prepares herself for whatever ridiculously endearing thing you're about to show her.
that 'ridiculously endearing thing', as it turns out, happens to be a rabbit--a rather plush, black-and white rabbit, sitting perfectly content in your arms. you're supporting the creature with one hand beneath its chest and the other beneath its hind legs, holding it close to you. some of the children gently pet the downy fur along its back, and the rabbit's black-tipped ears twitch in response, almost pleased.
"we found a little guest beneath the hedge line," you answer, glancing down affectionately at the creature. "the children were hoping they'd be allowed to keep it."
arlecchino snorts. "the children, or you?"
"rude," you shoot back, though the smile on your lips is still present. "come now, we've already thought of a name."
"is that so?" she drawls, her eyes narrowing a fraction at the rabbit. its own eyes, previously closed in contentment, open, and almost seem to challenge her. her fingers twitch behind her back.
"it is," you say, and there's a lightness to your tone that arlecchino knows is a harbinger of some form of mischief. her eyes meet yours, and they gleam with mirth. arlecchino wonders if the sun is ever envious of the way it is outshone. "would you like to hear it?"
she sighs, looking away. "proceed."
"thumper seems rather cute, no?" you answer innocently, batting your lashes, and internally arlecchino cringes. thumper. a name from a popular children's book, one that even a woman as cruel as the former knave would keep in stock in her library. a name, famously, that was attributed to the companion of the book's titular character, bambi.
bambi, which was also the name of the spider she once had as a child.
you notice her brief foray back into her memories, and draw her back with a soft laugh. thumper's ear twitches, and the little beast nuzzles closer against your chest. "no? well, we could always name him after you. you both seem to look quite alike, wouldn't you say? hm, how about per--"
"thumper is fine," arlecchino cuts you off, exasperation underlining her tone. there is an almost-scowl on her face, though the relaxed line of her shoulders gives away her true feelings. "the... creature, can stay. so long as it is properly cared for."
the children whoop and cheer, and your eyes soften into a thankful, tender look. thumper, now thoroughly loafing in your arms, wags his stubby little tail. perhaps he is somewhat cute, arlecchino muses, extending a hand to smooth down his fur--
--only for the traitorous little beast to lean away, cracking open an eye to glare almost witheringly at her. you coo as he presses close, and arlecchino's eye twitches. she doesn't know if rabbits have the capacity to make smug expressions, but she's willing to swear upon the tsaritsa's name that the damn creature is making that exact expression at her right now.
in hindsight, it's been a while since she's had rabbit stew.
Hello, I hope your day goes well as you're reading this!
If your request is still open, can I request touch deprived! Arlecchino and Touch deprived! Reader? Like reader is very clingy and affectionate to her closest friends because she's been deprived of physical affection since she was younger, and Arlecchino who's also touch deprived but unlike reader who has no problem with physical affection, she finds it hard to do it, but when she meets reader who's hugs are so comfortable she's grown addicted to it and craves her gentle touches more and more, thank you! Have a great day or night!
(I realise I’m apologising on every post for the late ones, but I’m almost caught up to a reasonable delay) hi anon!! I feel this hard, I am so affectionate because I was touch starved as a child. Though, I focused this writing piece more on Arlecchino. I love exploring her and her being in character and slightly OOC too. (She’s my comfort character, can you guys tell?) thank you for the ask!
Word count: 1k
Content: fluff, Arlecchino is touched starved, she loves you
Nsft utc!
Arlecchino and you have come from completely different backgrounds (that are unfortunately all too similar as well). You worked well together even so, your routines matching each other, the same sense of humour. By that, I mean, you joked, her lips barely turned up, and she hummed in response (which is equivalent to your wheezing on the sofa over.. a silly cat?). The point is, you worked. You both made sense together. Except one, tiny little detail.
You loved physical touch, and she despised it. Once you discovered how it felt, you were obsessed. You loved the way your body was enveloped by arms that seemed like they’d block out the whole world for you.
Arlecchino hated physical touch. She isn’t used to it, she grew up with her horrifying excuse for a Mother, and physical affection was used often as manipulation rather than anything else, she saw that much with what happened to her dear, dear friend (who haunts her dreams).
The first time Arlecchino held you was a year into your relationship. She awoke during the night to an empty bed, and when she made her way towards the living room, she saw you, in tears on the sofa. A bad dream, you had said, and nothing more. Arlecchino saw the way your body was almost aching for some sort of touch, and despite the discomfort, her arms wrapped around you. Awkward, clumsy, and a little bit forced, but she hugged you. She had not hugged someone since she was sixteen. Without a word, her thumb stroked against your arm, and she felt the way your body slumped against her body. She felt like a burning fire, you realised, most likely due to the flames running through her veins, but you welcomed it nonetheless.
She began to notice that holding you in her embrace was not as torturous as she assumed. Arlecchino held you until you fell asleep.
Her embraces were few and far between, reserved only for special moments or moments where she can see you need them. Her facial expression never changes, but over time, she becomes slightly more comfortable with every hug. She ended up craving your embraces, the way your hand gingerly caresses her cheek and your lips on her skin, the gentle squeeze on her arm when you go past her. She wanted so desperately to associate touch with you instead, someone she knows could never hurt a spider.
Eventually, she begins allowing it more and more, and even begins silently hinting when she wants one by sighing slightly louder, or grumbling a bit when things go wrong, only to feel a fuzzy warmth inside when you smile at her and give a gentle touch. Both you and Arlecchino wonder if she will one day make the first move.
Arlecchino does not know why she dislikes physical affection so much. She enjoys buying gifts she knows you will cherish and love instead, doing things at a distance. This was never supposed to be anything more than a fling, she didn’t want investment, she didn’t want any affection to be returned, but she fell for you, and hard. She dislikes how vulnerable she has become around you, but a part of her deep down inside of her likes it too. Arlecchino is scared you will leave, that you will ruin her one day, and she feels like it won’t happen if she doesn’t let on how hard she has fallen. (Everyone knows and says nothing.)
Perhaps she prefers affection the way she does, unrequited and with little investment, is because some part of her craves a love so great that it would tear her apart, and that frightens her. She does not know how to receive love, yet she still wants a love that will consume her entire being and burn hotter than the flames that course through her veins with every beat of her slowly-thawing heart. You are thawing her, she knows that much.
The weather chills the way her touch grows warmer, and winter comes quickly. The winter in Snezhnaya was cold and biting, and despite her accommodating her home for you (she clearly does not need it) by lighting the fireplace and leaving you blankets, the cold still finds its way into your bones, leaving you shivering. One night, when it is the coldest night of the year, you find yourself unable to sleep at all. You lay awake in the dark, thinking about your past the way you always do at night, shivering so hard you’re practically vibrating.
At some point, you hear her stirring, and you try to quiet yourself, to make sure she can continue sleeping. She noticed the second she opened her eyes, though. Doesn’t she always? She is glad you are pretending to sleep so you do not see the hesitation in her eyes before she snaps herself out of it and does what you both want her to. Wordlessly, she shuffles a few inches closer and her arm wraps around your midsection, dragging you closer until her body is wrapped around yours. Arlecchino, being the attentive person she is, notices your smile and sigh of relief and the way your shivering stops. She notices the way you nestle further in once you know she’s okay with it, and she notices when your breath falls into a deep rhythm.
It is her turn to stare at the wall, her heart beating faster than usual, the only giveaway of any of her feelings. Slowly, her arms snake around you until she’s holding you so tight you can’t move even if you wanted to. Her breath is visible when she exhales, when she lets her body finally relax in the company of another. Arlecchino buries her face into your hair, smelling your shampoo. The smell makes her drowsy, she tells herself (it is not the smell, it is that after so many years, her walls have crumbled completely), and she finds her eyes drooping until she, too, falls into the throes of sleep.
Arlecchino sleeps the best she ever has. Arlecchino has her first night of no nightmares since she became the poor, mad, cursed knave. Arlecchino does not feel so cursed when you are beside her.
EACH TIME YOU FALL IN LOVE! — hu tao, kokomi, ayaka, columbina, arlecchino, navia, nicole x gn! reader
ʚ♡ɞฺ main m.list ྀིᨯ — cw. sfw, fluffy, established relationship, reader is sunshine as a person
m note: inspired by one of my old fics :3
synopsis: affectionate s/o x genshin ladies ^-^
hu tao has her arms wide open for you when she sees you running up to her for a hug !!! piggyback rides with her are a MUST, and vice versa (if you can that is!!). it's a plus if you agree to prank people around town with her :3
every successful prank becomes a kiss from either of you, so if hu tao manages to scare chongyun, she gets one, but if you manage to get xingqiu to drop all his scrolls, you get one! it's like clockwork and you both get to cause mishap and love each other ^-^!
did i mention she's also insanely into pda? i have a feeling she has an arm around your waist twenty four seven, or at the very least holding your hand while you both are out :3
as long as its something that makes you happy, or shows off the very fact that she's with you, she disregards any negative opinions about the two of you being together.
loves knowing your love is for her and only for her. words of affirmation and acts of service are her thing; tell her you lover her and put too much spice into chongyun and xingqiu's food and that's good enough!
you got introduced to zhongli and the rest of her friends the same way, loudly, and lovingly.
sangonomiya kokomi holds you close to her heart, in turn for the affection that always felt so welcoming for her to do whatever her heart desires, she has a pendant of the two of you, a small picture that makes sure to show off your smile.
you happily do all the talking for her whenever she didn't feel up to socializing that day. yes, she's aware it's her job as a priestess, but you also must understand it gets tiring too.
loves staying inside though, indoor dates always feel amazing, and it's only leveled up in coziness with kokomi! not to mention the matching pjs she's been dying to make you wear. literally just staying inside and baking or something with her is all she wants <3
whenever she loses motive to finish up with the scattered, messy paperwork all over her table, her mind wanders back to the memories she has with you. whether it'd be embarrassing, or sad, or happy, it all manages to ease her back into doing her duty.
she introduced you to her friends probably three months after keeping it undercover. happened purely on accident!
ayaka kamisato first met you while you were managing an event alongside one of her close friends, yoimiya. managing the adorable decor, despite that not being her focus, what she found the cutest about you was how you happily teased and chased the kids.
a bright smile always on your face inspired her to do the same, it's a gorgeous sunset that most people could only wish to see again... but whenever her eyes would be on you? it felt like a ninetieth-floor view.
loves to run into your arms after a rough day, sometimes when she doesn't come home to the estate, thoma or ayato make sure to call you and ask if she's over at your place instead.
one of the only people she lets her hair down around. not to mention probably the only person whose allowed to do anything with her hair LOL. she loves to listen to your yap, god bless her she just really loves the way you sound while you comb your fingers through her scalp :(
columbina is a little taken aback, bemused even, but don't get her wrong, she really loves how much affection you show her. she just didn't know you had so much of it to show. loves whenever you give her things, especially if it's special in your culture.
gift giving, and words of affirmation i feel are her love languages, and i believe it's because she's always gotten stuff because people worship her, but she's never been... love-loved. if you get it.
so when she receives a gorgeous bracelet that's meant for lovers in your culture? don't be surprised when the moonlight is guiding you back over to her cave of flowers.
likes it a lot whenever you carry her around, when you celebrate, when you just feel like it, when you need to get somewhere fast, she is already bracing so you can pick her up bridal style!
purposefully makes herself a little lighter with her powers so she doesn't feel like too much of a burden on you.
arlecchino accepts your romance with a warm smile, not just 'warm', the warmth that seeps in her scythe. and you like that, so why wouldn't she? her smirk that would usually scare others off makes you want to stay by her side.
the children love you by the way, no one's ever really had the courage to love their father outloud... let alone themselves, so seeing you cling onto her arm when you can? they look to you as though you're another parent figure.
you like to be seen as a big ole family with arlecchino as your partner for your life, and doesn't care if the fatui employees that work for her judge because... well, you want to appreciate your partner, anyone who wouldn't doesn't deserve a partner as good as your arle.
there has only been one person who is allowed an arm's length near her during meetings is you. hopefully you know that. but that's if you're allowed in!!
navia would be just as loud as you are when it comes to her growing affection for you, but the only problem is her reputation. not that she would very much not show you at all, but it's more she would have to resist kissing you while introducing you to her staff/employees <3
holds your hand whenever she can, you're with her whenever there are events that spina de rosula joins in, you're the one people look for if ever navia goes missing.
and it makes sense why when it's captured on the weekly paper that you kissed her cheek once she finished her speech. adorably, people know now you for more than your skill, and now her partner too :)
gets majorly flustered when you carry her in celebration for anything, same goes for if ever you give her any gifts, but just know it's because it's usually her being the giver, not receiver.
nicole first meets you when alice is introducing you to the traveler for any help on their journey towards snezhnaya. adores the way your eyes shine and your voice is warm, she's never heard anybody so welcoming, so it makes sense she wants her voice to be heard by the sun, right?
she loves how much you hug her! how many times have you swung her around after being gone for only an hour and now get to see her again? the dark hues that cover her cheeks are more than enough to tell you how she feels about it.
loves your energy so much, when she runs out of words to say, you continue right after her.
nicole has been looking for someone like you for so much longer, so what does she do when her arms are the ones you go to rest in?
From the Fontaine trailer, some people headcanon Arlecchino to be a perfectionist so imagine her lover feeling insecure and becoming distant because they think they're not good enough for her, which Arlecchino quickly denies.
It was hard not to be insecure.
You knew that everyone felt insecure every now and then, but you felt the unconfidence in yourself growing with every passing day. After all, your lover was Arlecchino. The Knave. The Fourth Fatui Harbinger. One of the most strongest people that served the Tsaritsa. Not to mention stunningly beautiful.
And now “the perfectionist.”
You had always known that your wife liked things to be done her way, or no way. Arlecchino looked down on many things and people that she considered to be beneath her. She would pick apart anyone who had the audacity to upset her. But she had never once directed anything of the sort to you. You were good enough for her, you thought. She always made you feel so loved, so worthy of her, of everything, despite her… less than sane tendencies.
Until a few days ago.
The regular Fatui soldiers loved to gossip amongst themselves. You couldn’t really blame them, even though the Harbingers were feared, many of them were also idolized. And there wasn’t much else to do on duty. (Your wife always made sure to station a few guards outside your room. She was very serious about your safety.)
You actually learned a good bit of information from listening in on their conversations, but the parts you cared about the most were related to Arlecchino. From the time you overheard that she seemed more irritable than usual at the orphanage, so you made sure to pamper her to the fullest extent that night. Or when she was somehow in a good mood, so you did your best to make it even better by being extra romantic when she arrived home. But now you had stumbled upon a conversation you would have been better off not hearing.
It was the wee hours of the night, when you had been waiting up for hours to see if Arlecchino would make it home that night. She did not, which was disappointing, but it was nothing new. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? Regardless, you were sleepy now, but before you crashed you wanted to see if the Fatui were talking about anything juicy. By now, they would think you were asleep. You crept to your door and leaned close to it to see if you could catch any hushed whispers.
“You know, I heard Lord Pantalone and The Doctor got into another quarrel…” Bingo! Looks like they were chit-chatting tonight. Pantalone… the guy Arlecchino rebuked quite a few times. You don’t think she liked him very much, from the way she always hid you behind her, away from his unsettlingly sweet smile. Though that wasn’t the point. The guards continued to prattle on quietly, but it was becoming boring for you. Looks like one of the Harbingers made their subordinate cry again. You heard that one all too often, so it was time to finally go to sleep.
“Say, Lord Arlecchino…” Well, staying up for a few more minutes couldn’t hurt, right? You were eager to hear what they’d say.
“Lord Arlecchino is a real perfectionist, isn’t she?”
You don’t know why those words hit you so hard all of a sudden.
“Yeah, I think so too. She’s quite obsessed with perfection. If you don’t comply with her every standard of perfection, she’ll think of you as nothing. I don’t think anyone could be good enough for her.”
Perfection. Perfection. Perfection.
The word had now taken up residence in your head and you could no longer hear the muffled voices outside, your own thoughts being too loud. You were never well acquainted with the word “perfection.” You never considered yourself to be perfect in anything: looks, personality, smarts, talents, skills, strength, health. And well, you tried to keep it out of your mind as much as possible - Arlecchino’s love kept you very fulfilled anyway - but now your thoughts were spiraling into something not so nice.
You tried to not think about it. You knew deep down she was like that but hearing it verbalized so clearly was draining for you. But it was okay, right? You were good enough for Arlecchino, you repeated in your head. You’re good enough for her, you tried to convince yourself. There was no need to dwell on it.
But once a seed has been planted, it’s hard to stop its growth.
—
You didn’t get much sleep that night. The morning had come rather quickly, light filtering in through the windows. Arlecchino’s side of the bed was still untouched and cold. You contemplated staying in bed a while longer, but it was probably better to do something to get your mind off the events of last night. Perhaps a nice, hot bath would do you some good. Dragging yourself out of bed, you rubbed the sleepiness out of your eyes and padded along to the bathroom, until a glint caught your eye.
Your and Arlecchino’s shared dresser with a rather large mirror.
It held fond memories for you. Oftentimes Arlecchino would sit as you removed her hairclip and began to brush her hair, her face expressionless but still soft as she looked at you in the mirror. Or sometimes you’d be the one sitting down, her hands placed on your shoulders as she stared adoringly at your reflection, complimenting how enticing you looked. How she could just eat you up, kissing your neck, having to resist the urge to leave a smidge of her lipstick there. Bringing you as her plus one was both a curse and a blessing; she could show the whole of Snezhnaya her enthralling darling, but at the same time people laid their filthy eyes on you. Very fond memories indeed.
But that was the last thing on your mind, your reflection staring back at you almost hauntingly. Immediately your eyes couldn’t help but pick out the little imperfections and flaws in your body. Imperfection. The opposite and enemy of perfection. You wondered, did Arlecchino notice these imperfections too? Perhaps, she’s noticed all along and decided to not say a word out of pity?
You shuddered at the thought of disappointing her and quickly retreated to the comfort of your bed after that, hoping your dreams would provide you with something sweeter.
—
You knew you had slept in too late when you awoke to Arlecchino at your bedside. At first, it was a soothing feeling, waking up to fingers stroking your hair. And then realization hit you like a ton of bricks as you scrambled to sit up to which Arlecchino watched you with an unreadable expression.
“A-Arlie!” You half-exclaimed, voice cracking embarrassingly. “You’re home.”
“I was surprised when you weren’t by the door to greet me like usual. You usually never sleep in this late,” she commented, indirectly asking if you were okay.
“Oh well… I just felt more tired than usual,” you replied, which wasn’t really a lie. Arlecchino narrowed her eyes at you.
“Don’t tell me you’ve been staying up late again,” she sighed when she saw your nervous guilty smile. “I keep telling you to sleep instead of waiting up for me,” she gently tsked as she glided her finger under your eyes. “It is not healthy for you.”
Your wife’s touch made you hot and you gladly accepted it, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but think back to the Fatui soldier’s words. You probably looked so imperfect right now. Arlecchino noticed the change of expression on your face.
“What’s wrong?” Well damn, you didn’t mean for that to happen.
“Oh, nothing,” you quickly reassured her. “You know, just the sleep deprivation kicking in.” That excuse probably didn’t even make any sense but you had to roll with it. Arlecchino simply stared at you before answering.
“You do look more tired than usual. You should rest for a while longer,” she nodded as she guided you back into a lying position. You don’t think she fully bought your excuse but at least that exchange was over.
That was only the beginning of your distance behavior, which Arlecchino easily noticed. You wouldn’t initiate physical contact anymore, and wouldn’t “surprise” her with hugs from behind. No longer would you go on about your day when she got home from work. Whenever she got into bed with you, you’d always pretend to be asleep instead of spending the night talking with her. It was strange and made her feel… not good.
Arlecchino was a very observant lover and could read your mood very well, even more so when you tried to hide it. Usually, she could pinpoint what caused it or you would tell her. But this time you were completely silent. Not just for a little while too, it had been days.
She’d find out why tonight. How? Because tonight was your regularly scheduled dinner date night.
Arlecchino was a classy woman. She could always appreciate a private, fancy dinner with her beloved. And though it was only in her mansion, it didn’t stop her from wearing her best suit and encouraging you to dress up as well. Both of you always enjoyed these nights. It was usually mostly you doing the talking, but she took pleasure in hearing you chatter over a nice meal. Not to mention she liked to feed you dessert.
Normally you’d be ecstatic to spend time with your wife. But now? Now you were kind of terrified. You were going to be so close to her. She would be able to see your every move. Dissect you with those piercing eyes of hers. Your mind was going to the worse possible places and you didn’t like it.
Were there any wrinkles in your outfit? Hair combed perfectly? Wait, was your outfit even nice? What if it was and it just looked poorly on you? You found yourself worrying over the minor details far too much. But you didn’t have much more time to fret before Arlecchino entered the room with a slight smile.
“You look ravishing, my dear,” she hummed as she circled you, her heels click-clacking against the floors and her eyes dragging across your body. Her compliment did make your heart sing a little.
“Thank you, love,” you managed a smile to which Arlecchino reciprocated. You held out your held and Arlecchino grasped it with hers, kissing it.
“Shall we go?”
“We shall.”
—
There was no laughter or conversation to be heard during this particular dinner. The only thing that could be heard was the clatter of knives and forks against plates. It was unsettling how you didn’t even try to start up a conversation. How when Arlecchino tried to get you to speak, your only responses were a few words or merely a nod.
Why? Because your mind was racing over things you never worried about before. Was your voice pleasing to her ear? Was it too high or too low? Best not to test it. Was your etiquette good enough? The idea of not being perfect enough was still eating away at you, even in the things that didn’t matter.
Arlecchino always thought herself to be prepared for many things, many kinds of situations, and outcomes as a Harbinger. Though as a lover, it seems that she had some room to grow, she thought as she watched you change into something more comfortable and get ready for bed. But she was going to attempt to remedy that.
“[Name], speak to me.” Straight to the point as usual.
“About?”
“Why have you been so distant lately? It’s as if you’re a completely different person.”
“Everything is fine.”
“There’s no need to lie when you’re with me.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Both of us know this cannot go on any longer.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“[Name]-”
“I am fine!” Your voice snapped before you realized what you’d done. “I’m fine,” you repeated softly as you turned your face away. “Sorry.”
The room was silent for a few moments before your wife spoke again.
“My lover is the last person I thought I’d be interrogating,” Arlecchino’s voice dropped to a softer tone, one that was quite rare. It was making you weak.
“I know… and I’m sorry,” you said in a deflated manner, the weight of the whole situation catching up to you. “I’m sorry…”
“Do not be sorry,” Arlecchino gently corrected you. “Simply be honest and tell me what is wrong. Your troubles are my troubles as well, love, and I swear to fix them.” She came to sit next to you on the bed, tentatively placing her blackened hand on your shoulder to gauge your reaction, and then running it up and down your back once she saw your approval. You felt like an idiot for wanting to cry right now.
“I know, I just-” You started to sound like a broken record at this point but divulging such thoughts was definitely not easy at all. But there was no way to escape this conversation so you had to come clean eventually. At least Arlecchino was extremely patient with you.
“It’s me,” you finally said. “I’m… the problem,” you stated quietly, head hung low and staring at your legs. You had done it now.
“You?” Your wife repeated. “How could you ever be a problem?” Arlecchino remained calm on the outside but her mind was racing with questions that needed answers. She placed her fingers on your chin and guided your face to look at hers instead.
You balled your fists and opened your mouth to speak but it was beginning to clog and dry up from your overwhelming emotion. “I’m not good enough,” you blurted out in one go. “Not good enough for you.” You were sure your heart was racing faster than what should be humanly possible. You squeezed your eyes shut, afraid of what her facial expression would be. Archons, you just wanted to disappear into nothingness right now.
Arlecchino was momentarily shocked, even letting the emotion show on her face for a split second before she quickly schooled it back to her normal expression. Though she had no idea how you came to such a conclusion, she was not going to let you believe such lies for another second.
“[Name], look at me. Now,” she commanded. With that tone of voice, you knew better than to disobey her. Hesitantly you opened your eyes, reluctantly making eye contact with her, the red X’s in her eyes staring directly at you.
“You’re wrong,” she stated plainly, not meant to hurt you but rather convey to you what she thought was the obvious truth. “You could not be farther from the truth. How has such an erroneous belief infiltrated your mind?” You didn’t really know how to respond to that so you merely shrugged your shoulders and broke eye contact again, but she quickly tapped your cheek so you could look at her again.
“I guess… I guess I was just thinking about how perfect you are, and how everything around you is perfect as well, and I don’t… deserve to be around you,” your voice trailed off towards the end. You didn’t know how much longer you could hold back the tears. Arlecchino paused for a moment seeming to take in your words before she spoke.
“It is true I surround myself with perfection. But does that not already answer your question? You are perfect to me. There is nothing I do not adore about you.” A quiet “oh” was the only word you could muster in response to that. Although it wasn’t enough to completely rid you of your insecurities, her genuine words of affirmation were starting to make you feel a little better.
“I don’t think you know how utterly addicted I am to you. I crave every part of your being so often, it drives me crazy,” she whispered. “I may look calm now, but inside I can feel myself burning at the mere thought of you.” Arlecchino let go of your chin and reached for your hand, guiding it to her face. “There is absolutely no one else I would want as a spouse. Do you understand?”
The lump in your throat had grown much larger so the only thing you managed was a meek nod.
“Can you use your words, love?”
“Y-yes,” your voice was teetering on the edge of breaking down. With that, Arlecchino moved in to place a very gentle kiss on your forehead but that was the final straw for you. Tears gushed down and you hurriedly reached to rub them off, but it was really to no avail because your wife had obviously already seen them.
Admittedly, Arlecchino was not the best when it came to tears and comfort. So she just did what she knew how to do - let you cry into her chest as she stroked your hair and back comfortingly. She didn’t say anything for the time being, letting you get out everything you had been holding in for the past few days. She didn’t care that her shirt was being wetted by your tears. She didn’t care that she had a long day ahead of her tomorrow. What she cared about was the person in front of her and their wellbeing.
Neither of you paid attention to how much time went by, as it didn’t mean anything. Eventually, your sobs were reduced to soft hiccups that you managed to mostly keep under control. Arlecchino’s touch and chest were so soft, you felt like you could fall asleep right now after all of that crying, which Arlecchino seemed to notice as well.
“Go to sleep now. You need rest,” your wife instructed, kissing the crown of your head and then gently moving your body to lay down on the plush mattress. She made sure to wipe your face delicately with a tissue as well and kiss the corners of your eyes, stained from your tears. You made a noise of agreement as the soft blankets and pillows were already winning you over. Arlecchino placed a final kiss on your forehead as she sent to off to the land of dreams.
Arlecchino gazed at your face as she pulled away. You looked so tired but still so beautiful. But she would have to talk to you about this again. She was still unsure of why you suddenly started acting this way, not wanting to push the subject immediately. Did someone feed you lies? Or was it truly just on your own? Regardless, she was going to make sure to reverse those thoughts as much as possible. Everything about you was so lovely. So charming, so divine. No matter how long it took, no matter how many times she had to reassure you, she’d make sure you were aware of her feelings.
Arlecchino clasped her hand with your own and squeezed it. You would always be more than enough for her.
At first I wasn't wild about Arlecchino's ponytail, but then I opened my third eye and considered... Arlecchino and her lover are in bed and her lover just stares at her hair and before Arlecchino could even ask why they're staring, they pull Arlecchino close, remove her hair tie and run their hands through her hair to enjoy how soft it is.
The bed was warm, but never warm enough. No one ever became truly warm in Snezhnayan weather. But Arlecchino was always warm. You were initially surprised but it was comforting, especially when she held you in her arms.
Arlecchino was also always awake before you. No matter how much you tried to wake up before her, she was always conscious. Some days she was already gone, her side of the bed cold. Some days she was still there, such as today, basking in the quietness as she waited for you to wake up.
Sometimes you wondered if she ever got bored of simply lying in silence with you on her sparse days off. Arlecchino was such a busy woman - she could probably be doing much more productive things instead of wasting her time here with you. You remember offhandedly mentioning it to her, but she quickly narrowed her eyes and told you not to be foolish, which was reassuring.
So, on rare days like this, where the first thing you saw when you woke up was her face instead of the empty space, it was very precious to you. Already awake, as per usual, she immediately noticed the slow opening of your eyes, considering her hand was now stroking your cheek.
“Good morning, [Name],” her voice echoed throughout the completely still room, save for the snow beating against the window. It took a few seconds for you to process that your lover was still here with you, the warmth from her body seeping into you, her voice repeating in your head. You looked at her blinking, taking in her smooth face, X-ed eyes, and pink lips all directed toward you. At first, she didn’t question your staring, as you were usually bleary and still adjusting to the light in the mornings. You sleepily wondered what she thought about as she studied you.
In no time you realized that she was actually here with you, especially when she placed a soft kiss on your cheek, quickly waking you up embarrassingly enough.
“Arlie… good morning. It’s nice to see you,” you murmured as you snuggled into her chest, enjoying the attention you were getting.
“You as well,” she responded, and silence reigned once more. One did not need to speak during these moments. Sometimes more is shared in the quiet than with words.
You peered back up at her, and that’s when you noticed that Arlecchino had exchanged her usual fancy hair clip for a regular hair tie so that it was more comfortable in bed. Though right now, her hair wasn’t the neat, orderly ponytail it usually was. Some wisps of hair bordered her face like a picture, while other locks were thrown over her body.
Arlecchino’s hair always fascinated you. It was beautiful, to put it simply, but simple wasn’t enough to describe it. Pure white that rivaled the snow of Snezhnaya, black locks trickling down that challenged the darkness of the night. And finally, it flowed into red curls that clashed against the white and matched her eyes.
Your internal marveling at your lover’s hair gave you the sudden urge to run your fingers through it. You had done it a few times before, and you enjoyed it immensely. Arlecchino seemed to not mind it either. So you decided to indulge yourself, and it was now that she noticed your endless staring. She was just about to question you when you suddenly pulled her closer (although it wasn’t much of a pull when your bodies were already touching each other) and tugged off the hair tie, allowing her hair to spill out and onto your waiting fingers.
The first touch of the softness against your fingers was heavenly. It was always astonishing how nicely her tresses rubbed and tickled against your hand. Hair both pretty to the eye and touch, something many people would be jealous of, including yourself. But you had Arlecchino all to yourself at least.
Arlecchino had not uttered a word during this. She had raised her eyebrows the tiniest bit at your sudden boldness, but soon returned to her poker face, allowing you to do as you pleased. Secretly, she had always found this activity to be quite relaxing and endearing, as well as finding the expression on your face cute. She wondered if you enjoyed this more than her sometimes, considering the funny things you did with her hair.
You twirled a whole lock of her hair around your finger, and let it go to see it bounce and then fall flat. You let strands flow between each of your fingers, and let it fall and brush against your arm in the process. You even combed out some tiny knots. It was always the mundane things that were oddly the most delightful, you thought, lost in the way her hair danced in your hand.
You weren’t sure how much time had past, but it was then you realized on every occasion where you played with her hair, you always asked explicit permission. Sometimes, there were days when she didn’t want to be touched, which was completely understandable, so you always made sure to ask. So now you were anxious about if you were internally irritating her.
The more you thought about it, you were worried that she would get annoyed at your continued stroking, so before you could get too lost in the motion, you began to pull away. But she hastily caught your wrist, only speaking a few words from there.
“You may continue.” You were surprised at her request but also happy and relieved, obeying her as your fingers returned to their rightful place, entangled with her locks of hair. It was then that she amazed you even more. Arlecchino’s eyelids began to droop, slowly but surely, until her multicolored eyes could be seen no longer. You knew she wasn’t asleep - she only fell asleep after you did - but this was simply incredible for you.
Your heart pounded fiercely at the sight, as though you’d just run a marathon. Even as Arlecchino’s lover, you rarely ever saw her as vulnerable as she was right now. She was surely a sight to behold. Ruthless and cruel to soft and comforted.
You didn’t utter a single word, not wanting to ruin this perfect and tender moment. And so the two of you continued to lay there in peace, her locks of hair gliding through your fingers effortlessly, and a very tiny, content smile on the Harbinger’s face.
Imagine Arlecchino being worried that her lover would be put off by her blackened hands, but then they just yank off any gloves Arlecchino might wear to hide them, and kisses her hands to assure her that they love them.
It had come to your attention that Arlecchino only wore gloves in your presence.
It was an average day, and you were at the orphanage again. The kids there liked when you went over to play with them. Today, you were reading them a story, a fairy tale that ended with the two characters falling in love. Soon enough, the children were asking non-filtered questions about if your relationship with Arlecchino was similar.
"Yes yes, Arlecchino and I are in a romantic relationship," you quickly eased their concerns, a bit embarrassed to be speaking about this.
"Is that why she smiles around you? She never does that," a child tilted their head at you.
"Well, sometimes love can make you do funny things. It brings unexpectedness into your life."
"She even dresses differently around you. That is a funny thing," another kid piped up and you looked at him curiously.
"What do you mean?"
"Father always wears gloves around you!" You raised your eyebrows, still unable to see why that was strange.
"So? She always wears gloves."
"That's not true," he shook his head. "Father never wears them around us, or the other Fatui, or around anyone else. She always wears them around you though." Your brain had a hard time processing this information, but you knew it was true since a bunch of kids wouldn't lie to you about something like this.
A lot of Fatui wore gloves, it was useful for the kind of dirty work they did, so you didn't think it was strange when Arlecchino wore gloves. But now you were incredibly confused and intrigued at why she felt the need to cover up her hands. And kind of stupid that you never noticed until now.
"Well, what do her hands look like without the gloves?" you questioned.
"Her hands are-" Before the child could finish, the familiar click-clack of heels echoed throughout the room. Immediately the children straightened up and quieted down at the sight of Arlecchino, and even your heart hammered a bit from the anticipation of the kid's answer.
"Good afternoon, Father," all the kids spoke at once, showing their respect, and she simply nodded her head at them. Her attention was mainly focused on you.
"I see you've been keeping them occupied, [Name]. Thank you." You smiled at your lover. Regardless of the whole glove situation, you were still happy to see her. "Would you care to join me for a walk now? I have just a bit of spare time," she held her hand out for you to take.
"Of course, Arlecchino. I'd love to," you placed your hand on her gloved one, the mere touch of it making you wonder once again what was under the fabric.
She intertwined her fingers with you. Gloved ones. And now more than ever you wanted to hold her bare hands, no gloves getting in the way of the skin-to-skin contact. You'd have to wait until the two of you were home and alone, however.
—
Thankfully it was one of the rare days when the two of you could have the luxury of falling asleep with each other. Even hours later, your mind raced with possibilities as to what she hid under those gloves. Scars? Burns? No matter what, you'd still love her. She was so beautiful to you regardless. But it seemed that you weren't so good at hiding your emotions on your face.
"[Name], are you alright?" you nearly jumped at Arlecchino's voice, not noticing her next to you.
"Oh! Well, I-, it's nothing really-" You glanced up at her face and you already knew that she wasn't going to buy that excuse. "Okay, fine... the truth is, I think we need to... talk." At that, the Knave was on guard, immediately needing to know what troubled her beloved.
"Tell me what plagues you, and I shall have it taken care of immediately," her eyes narrowed at you, fully intent on solving whatever issue this is, even if she had to... teach someone a lesson, right now, in the middle of the night.
You took a deep breath and mentally prepared yourself. "We need to talk about us."
"Us?" The Harbinger echoed. She was not expecting that. You nodded, and you reached for her two gloved hands, holding them in front of you two.
"This is..." you were unsure of how to voice your thoughts regarding the gloves. Your fingertips danced to the cloth around her own fingers, gently grasping it and-
You had barely been able to tug the long glove a little teensy down when Arlecchino swiftly grabbed your wrist, stopping your movements.
"What are you doing?" For how serious her voice sounded, you swore you could hear it waver for a split second.
"Arlecchino, I-I know you only wear gloves around me. I don't understand why... you know you do not need to hide yourself around me, right?"
Arlecchino closed her eyes, knowing that the jig was up, and appeared to think. "You may not like what you see. You may consider it... unattractive." Your heart broke a little bit.
"Oh Arlie," you sighed. "I would never think that, not ever. No matter what your hands may look like, I can assure you that I'll love them wholly, just like I do for the rest of you." She did not respond other than her thumb slowly rubbing circles on your entrapped palm.
"Please, may I see them? As your lover, the one you said has the sole privilege of seeing every part of you?" You reminded her tenderly. She opened her eyes once again, the ones everyone found terrifying but you loved.
"As you wish." She let go of the grip on your wrist and you were free to pull it off. And you did, in one fell swoop the glove fluttered to the floor. There laid Arlecchino's completely blackened hand, adorned with darker patterns and beautifully manicured nails.
Well, you certainly weren't expecting that. Arlecchino carefully gauged your expression, looking for any signs of repulse or discomfort. For once, she was worried if she had made a mistake, if you would be put off by her hands. But she didn't need to worry, as you found her hands completely alluring.
Without hesitation, you placed a kiss on the top of her hand, making Arlecchino stiffen at the sudden affection. But you did not stop there of course. You had a lot of area left to cover. Your kisses reached up past her elbow as your hand was loosely linked with hers, fingers massaging her palm. It was unexpectedly smooth.
"Your hands are so pretty. I don't see why you would ever hide them from me," you stated honestly. The other glove on her other hand received the same treatment - yanked off and discarded, and soon a victim to your ceaseless kisses, peppered up and down her arm. Arlecchino did not move or speak while you did this, her eyes remained trained on you like a hawk, taking in your every move. Taking in every motion of your lip, drinking in the passion in your eyes as you boldly looked at her as you continued your dauntless display of affection.
After your little stunt, you pulled away for a quick breather, but Arlecchino being Arlecchino, had to regain dominance of the situation again, and she briskly caught your chin with her hands, the one you daringly made your stake on. Before you could speak, she hungrily kissed you, her free hand pushing you down on the bed. She kissed you again and again, determined to make you feel the same things she just felt, her hand running up and down your arm. By the end of it, you were panting, but you felt triumphant. It was hard to change Arlecchino's mind, but you did it anyway.
"It seems like I've successfully proved that you're hands are quite lovely to me," you mentioned breathlessly.
"It seems you have," Arlecchino agreed with you, her usually blank expression had a sliver of softness, her thumb running over your lip. "Thank you." You smiled and gently grasped her wrist.
"So, no more gloves, right?" You asked teasingly. Arlecchino sighed at your tone but a small smile adorned her face as she kissed you once more.
synopsis: Work is always tiring. But some days are worse than usual. Luckily, you have your Harbinger partner to comfort you.
includes: dottore, arlecchino w/ gn! reader
notes: Sure I can! I badly wish they could comfort me too haha. I hope you like this!
Dottore:
He doesn’t exactly feel tired often. He always pushes himself so hard that he doesn’t feel the tiredness creeping up until the last minute when he randomly falls asleep while working. Dottore doesn’t even show his exhaustion much either - he’s been doing it for years so it takes you a while to notice the signs, and how to pull him away from his experiments. Dottore is even more observant than you so he can take one look at you and definitely know that you’re bone-tired. He has practically no expertise in the area of taking care of other people, but for you, he can try. And so he does what you usually do for him all the time.
If you try to continue working, Dottore has no problem forcibly dragging you away either. Can probably pick you up and throw you over his shoulder with ease despite your protest. Has an army of clones to prevent you from going back to work too. Orders you to stay in bed and rest or else. If you need, he’ll have his clones prepare you some hot tea. You can ask them to make some soup for you but I’m not sure how that’ll turn out. Dottore initially returns to his lab to continue working, but he finds himself bored and irritable without your presence. So he huffs as he returns to his shared room with you to do some paperwork.
If you’re so tired you can’t fall asleep, he would give you some medicine to help you. Or if you just don’t feel like sleeping, keep pestering him to come and lay down with you. He would let you rant about how exhausting your day was and pay attention if anyone, in particular, caused your tiredness (totally not to experiment on them later.) Cuddles under the blankets until your eyes get droopy and eventually drift off <3. Dottore’s not the most romantic or giving when you’re tired. But he actually cares which is a lot more than he can say for anyone else.
Arlecchino:
Due to Arlecchino’s job at the orphanage, she is also frequently tired with all the kids running about but she has kind of become immune to it too. Can also tell when you’re tired because she deals with kids every day which ups her observance. Even though she’s busy and seems very cold, I think she would be pretty good at comforting you. She puts all the kids to nap and lets you lay on her lap while she does her work. Even though she would silently urge you to rest she’d probably, unfortunately, understand if you had to keep working. Makes you a good cup of coffee and ensures that you have some Fatui agents to help you. Also gets snappy if anyone makes trouble for you or annoys you when you’re tired.
I don’t know what kind of job you have but she’d probably want you to take a few days off or even quit your job entirely. She’s a Harbinger, she would make it happen. Would offer you a job at her orphanage instead. Also, cuddles <3. She’s still stiff but makes exceptions for you when you’re this burnt out. She doesn’t talk but, but if you don’t want to speak she’ll tell you things that you’d hopefully find amusing to boost your mood. (Arlecchino secretly takes advice from the kids on what to do because she’s somewhat at a loss.)
