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Arlecchino ran her darkened finger over the rim of her glass, watching the Knight of Boreas through half-lidded eyes. If that wasn't her first drink of the night, Varka would've assumed she was tipsy or lightly buzzed. At least feeling the liquor of choice in her blood. As it stood, he was fairly sure her curse burned through the alcohol within minutes.
Varka was on his fifth drink himself, and not feeling it yet, as a Mondstadter (not taking his body mass into account, of course!), but a few (twenty) more drinks and he might begin to feel a little buzzed.
Arlecchino wasn't very talkative, instead choosing to observe him with an indecipherable look in her eyes. If he didn't know better, he'd assume she was judging him for no good reason, but The Knave was not so callous.
Still, he didn't get why her eyes lingered on him, like she wanted something from him. After all, he was finally giving her that drink he owed her and the Marionette; though the Seventh Harbinger turned down his offer, saying she couldn't stand the vile taste of most alcohol.
The Fourth Harbinger lifted her glass to finish her drink, gesturing for the bartender to deliver refills for the first time in the last hour, startling Demyan into action. People seemed so frightened of Arlecchino, given who she is, something Varka could understand. Knowing her as he thinks he does now, she's earned every bit of that reputation, but he can't help but think of how lonely a life she must lead, surrounded by those who fear her so much.
Of course, there were her children to account for, but she was away so long, he couldn't assume she was any less isolated for it. Her perceived friendship with Columbina and Sandrone was fairly new as far as he could see, and with what had occurred only a week ago...
Varka's surprised she showed at all, with how much energy she was giving into hunting down Il Dottore, the cockroach.
Demyan set down another glass of Fire Water, rushing back to the bar and away from the corner booth Varka had found Arlecchino in an hour and a half prior, secluded. Definitely not feeding into his isolated and lonely theory.
Maybe a powerful woman like Arlecchino just felt no need for company, but if that was the case, surely he could prove her wrong. After all, one consistent friend can nurse many a mental wound. If she had any to begin with was another question entirely.
Varka tossed back the last of his fifth whiskey, a Nod Krai specialty called Kyrö, and held Demyan off when he started over to collect the glass.
"Lady Harbinger, how has your hunting gone?" he asked, laying his crossed arms on the edge of the table to lean over a little closer, obviously curious how her week had gone. Arlecchino's gaze flickered down to his crossed arms before dancing back up to his face, a small glint in her eyes, one that promised danger.
"Not as well as I'd like, I'll admit. Dottore is every bit the coward he seems when he finds himself without power. Without-... he can't complete his plan without the missing component, but as soon as he shows his traitorous face, I'll know."
She tapped her finger on her thigh, where her arm was lying across her lap. Her other hand resumed rubbing the rim of her glass, though full this time with a second round. "As important as my mission is, I did not accept your invitation to discuss it. I wanted to think of other things."
Varka leaned back, letting his hands fall off the table and onto his legs, relaxing against the back of the booth-seat. "I can understand that. What did you want to talk about?"
The look she gave as he moved seemed oddly disappointed as she considered something for long enough that Varka thought she might not know what to say.
"Just thinking about how, for all I've done, a drink seems hardly enough to compensate."
Varka grinned. "Well, if you'll notice, you're on your second, but I'm sure you didn't mean that. How about a few rounds?"
The dangerous glint in her eyes returned as she hummed. "A few rounds would prove worthy," she purred, a rumble that spread heat up the back of Varka's neck. He almost wanted to check if someone with a Pyro Vision was behind him, playing some kind of trick.
"I'll tell Demyan to get those ready for you," he smiled, toothy and probably dopey, but before he could call Demyan over, Arlecchino raised a hand in a stop gesture.
"I believe you misunderstand me. I didn't mean a beverage of any kind, Grand Master."
Varka tilted his head as he thought before letting a noise realization, possibly excitement. "A spar then! Fantastic idea, I bet you're aching for a good match-up as much as I am. Flins isn't always available for sparring, and I've been practically itching for a decent fight."
Arlecchino just raised an eyebrow as she took a light drink from her Vodka, maintaining eye contact over the edge of the glass. She looked way too amused for Varka to be right.
"Not a spar then?"
"Perhaps another time, but no, I was implying something more... personal."
"Listen, Lady Fourth, you're gonna have to be more specific, a guy can only be wrong so many times."
"There's a simpler way to put to, but you'd find it too crass for public ears. Luckily, we're fairly secluded, hm?"
There it was again, that damn Pyro feeling on the back of his neck. He couldn't assume what she meant; it would only end badly if he was wrong, and he didn't want to be that guy, the one who thought being friendly meant flirting. He'd never live that down.
"I guess, what's the simpler way?"
Arlecchino leaned forward, smiling in such a not-smirk smirk that Varka could feel his blood boiling already, confused by his own emotions but not resistant.
"The simple but perhaps crude way to phrase it would be.. I want to hear you beg, Sir Varka."
Oh, Barbatos, what kind of perverted fortune have you bestowed on me?
-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-
The Knave stood in front of him, hands so loose at her sides that Varka was getting subconscious of where his own hands should go. The confident, brave Knight of Boreas, one of Barbatos' Four Winds, Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius, brought to a nervous mess before a Harbinger.
What a joke.
He wasn't sure what to do with himself, to be honest. He could be cocky and arrogant, but he didn't want to seem unwilling or uncomfortable. Sure, bedding The Knave wouldn't have been a fantasy of his in any way, but as circumstance would have it, he didn't mind, and she wanted something from him.
I want to hear you beg, Sir Varka.
Why was that so anxiety-inducing but causing a Situation™ in his nethers? By the Archons, he wasn't going to turn this down. He just wished he knew what to do right now; he'd never felt so unsure in this kind of situation before.
"I think we should start with getting you undressed, Grand Master."
"Right," he said, lowering the coat from his shoulders, laying it on a coat hook as he moved onto his boots. He didn't move at a slow pace, but it certainly wasn't the fastest he's ever been.
If Arlecchino had any complaints, she didn't voice them, watching him with that dangerous glint in her eyes that Varka had finally understood was lust, want. She wanted him, right now. He felt desired, as he finally shucked off his pants, and pulled his metal arm-sleeve off, along with a few pieces of various armor that covered his blind spots.
He wondered how dangerous it was to be so weak before one of the Fatui, before remembering that if The Knave wanted him dead, why should she wait until now. He's certainly been inhibited in her presence before. Relaxing the smallest amount, he finally removed his shirt, leaving himself bare aside from some light blue boxers. He hadn't known he was going to be removing his clothes around someone today, give him some credit!
The Knave, at least, gave him the dignity of not laughing at the small clouds and green leaves that adorned his crotch, but the amused look in her eyes was hardly any better. If she found them a turn-off, she didn't show it, moving forward to herd him towards the bed, where he sat down on the edge, with her towering over him.
She was still clothed, too. The power play she was pushing was not lost on him in the slightest.
"Now, before we begin, I'm going to set some basic rules, and I hope you'll listen to them carefully."
Varka nodded quickly. She brought her hands up to his hair, softly and with far more care than he expected, to toy with the strands that had fallen into his eyes. "We will establish a safe word. Do you understand what that is?"
"Something to say when I want to stop, but I don't think I'll need one, considering-"
"You will follow these rules, or nothing more will happen tonight, Knight of Boreas. You'll do well to understand how serious I am."
Varka nodded. "We could do a light system?"
"Suitable for our needs. Red for stop, Yellow for uncomfortable or unsure, and Green for okay?"
"Yes."
"Very good. Are you aware of what you're into or not into?"
Varka hummed, growing tired from the gentle hair petting, briefly wondering if it was a ploy to make him pliable, like putty on her hands for her to use as she so pleased.
"Not into being called mean names, or degradation of any kind. Or pet-play. Or master stuff."
"Do you enjoy being dominated?"
"I've never been dommed before."
Arlecchino paused her ministrations long enough for Varka to realize he'd closed his eyes. Cracking them open, he noticed she was looking at him with a hungry look in her eyes. "Perhaps I'll change that tonight."
Varka wondered if he should feel more ashamed of how his dick twitched or how his eyes slid closed when she resumed touching his hair. "Anything you know you like?"
"Overstimulation, for sure. I don't know much else. I don't usually do anything that isn't vanilla."
"So you mean to say, you haven't been toyed with enough to know what makes your heart beat faster? Interesting... Lastly, I will tell you what I want from you, and I require that you give your consent, Grand Master. It's necessary for me to enjoy myself at all."
"Understood. What are your plans with me, Lady Harbinger?"
"I'm going to prepare you and have you take my cock."
Varka felt his eyes bulge as he opened them quickly to stare at her in shock. "You have a cock?"
"An artificial one, yes. Is this a problem?"
".. No, you just surprised me. I guess I assumed I would be..."
"On top? Most do, don't feel embarrassed about the assumption. The truth is, I rarely find pleasure in being penetrated; it's just a personal preference of mine. I've found that being in a dominating position suits my needs better. Do you consent?"
Varka had never bottomed before, not even for other men. To be topped by a woman would be new and kind of terrifying, considering the reputation of the woman who would be doing it now, but he found himself interested in at least the challenge it would pose.
"Sounds challenging," He admitted. "It would be my first time."
"I promise, I'll be gentle," she smiled, not at all cruel or mocking, but more genuine than he expected from her. She kept surprising him.
"Then, yes, I consent."
"Good, lie back, Grand Master."
"Wait, one more thing."
"Yes?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Just call me Varka. All this Grand Master stuff feels too formal."
"Very well, Varka," she purred, pressing him down to the bed with a single hand on his chest. "You may call me Arlecchino. Or some shorter variation if you find it's quite a mouthful. I am no Harbinger here."
"Will do, Arlecchino."
With a grunt from Varka, she pulled his legs apart and ran both her hands from his ribs to his hips in fluid up and down motions, smiling up the bed at him, rubbing down his abs like she was tracing a map of pleasure in her wake. "You know, Varka, I wonder if I can break you tonight. How well-ground can I have you by the time the moon leaves us, do you think?"
Varka shuddered, grinning. "I suppose that's entirely up to you, Arlecchino."
"Indeed," She hummed, nosing the band of his boxers, before nipping at the skin she found there. Varka wasn't a very impatient man, but he felt her teasing was taking way too long, given it had only just begun.
Maybe the teasing began the second he sat down in that booth.
Arlecchino moved up his body, neglecting his already-twitching cock, in favor of his chest. "I assumed your little show with these tonight had been intentional, but now I understand it was purely an accident. Regardless, I'm pleased to be acquainted with them, finally."
Saying such dirty things so crisply as she rubbed a blackened thumb over his nipple should be some kind of world-ending occurrence. Each pinch left him shuddering, and he wondered why something like this hadn't been discovered before. It might've been because he was too focused on making his partner feel good in bed for them to pay any mind to returning the favor.
It sounded pretty pathetic, now that he thought about it.
As if sensing his wandering thoughts, Arlecchino cupped his erect dick through his boxers, drawing a groan from him as he nearly jack-knifed from the surprise. With a firm push, she laid him flat again, one-handed. (Which was the opposite of a turn-off, holy crap?!)
"Shhhh," She soothed, pushing herself down to rest between his thighs, each easily the size of her head, but it didn't put her off as she held them open and mouthed at his cock through the fabric of his boxers. The sky blue turning stormy as he leaked, and her spit mixed from the outside. He felt like every limb was shaking madly with need, taking all he could to not strain against her hold.
He doubted he could resist the grip either way, as shaky as he was, as strong as she was. She might not even break a sweat if he really tried, either.
"Good boy," she murmured, nosing the line of his aching member through the boxers, inhaling. "You smell divine."
Varka thought he was going to pass out from how overwhelmed he felt, with how little she'd done to make him feel so much all at once. He felt his breath come out in short pants as Arlecchino nipped at the lap of his thigh, before she finally slid a hand under his waistband, pulling the boxers down slowly, taunting him, before his cock was finally free.
The cold air didn't have enough time to bother him before hot breath layered over his dick, just before Arlecchino took him in her mouth. His head fell back as he moaned, his hips twitching once, stopping when dark hands held him down.
Taking the hint not to move, he kept his arms out to the side, gripping the sheets as he tried to keep quiet. He didn't want the entire bar to know what was happening in the Flagship's guest rooms. He'd like to preserve some poor sap's innocence. How innocent could they really be, though, to be drinking at the Flagship at this hour?
Arlecchino pressed her tongue to the slit of his tip, pulling off with a hum. "Cut, hm?"
"Monds-stadt custom," He stammered, getting only a nod of acknowledgment before she began to lavish over his thighs instead, ignoring his wet and painfully hard dick again.
"Such large thighs, Varka," She praised, sucking a mark into the inner parts, relishing over the meat of his thighs like they were a Five-Star Meal made just for her. "So strong and firm," She groaned, licking a long strip from the mark and up to his dick, placing a gentle kiss to the tip before sucking sharply and pulling away just as fast. Varka felt dizzy with sensation as she licked over a nipple, straddling his waist to apparently pay more attention to his top half.
She sucked brutally at his nipple, like she had more experience dealing with them, pinching and twisting at his other nipple before switching. He wondered if she was trying to get him to cum from just foreplay, or if she was enjoying herself a little too much. Either way, he was frighteningly close, and Arlecchino seemed to know it too as she gripped his cock again, stroking quickly but precisely.
"Go on, Varka, cum for me. Won't you be good and cum?"
Gasping heavily before moaning, he did, he came so hard that he saw stars, and didn't register anything else for a few minutes until he felt gentle petting on his hair, which he distantly nuzzled into, silently asking for more of the touch.
There was gentle laughter as the petting kept up until he finally came back to his senses. Arlecchino was sitting beside him, still clothed except for her heels, looking down at him with a fond smile and an amused look in her eyes. "What color?"
Heat spread from his neck and down his chest, open for her to see as he swallowed thickly and nodded. "Green."
She grinned and gestured for him to move further up the bed. "Turn over, on your hands and knees... Yes, just like that, well done. You've been so good for me, Varka. so perfect."
He shuddered violently, feeling the goosebumps trail as she pushed his head into the pillows, leaving his ass in the air for her to fondle. She cupped the cheeks, squeezing them as she slowly pulled them apart, blowing hot air on his rim. He moaned softly at the sensation of the heat, and where she was about to touch, feeling a needy whine bubble in his throat, but swallowing it down.
He thought he could get through this without completely embarrassing himself until her tongue began to circle his rim like her finger circled the rim of her glass back in the tavern. He thought he could handle it without cracking until the tongue got warmer and then slid into his ass. That whine came back with a vengeance, dissolving into a moan as Arlecchino kept pushing in and out with just her tongue, probably aware that she was destroying him with each flick around, searching for the spot that had made men weep beneath Varka before.
She wouldn't find it this shallow, he knew that much. She figured this out about the same time he recalled it, sliding one of her hands from his ass cheek to slide a finger in, nail and all.
The nail felt weird, but eventually, Varka was being bombarded with pleasure as she worked the dual sensations of her hot tongue and the scrutiny of her finger as it prodded at his walls, searching for a bundle of nerves and getting nearer through the process of elimination alone. His dick hung heavy between his legs, hard and aching all over again like he hadn't already cum once, but his stamina had always been a little too good.
He was bound to get overstimulated if Arlecchino dared to even graze his cock in these conditions.
Unfortunately for him, that's the exact thought that lined up with the moment she found the nerves. Varka sucked in air as quickly as he moaned, losing the strength in his arms that kept him from basically suffocating in the pillows, collapsing as Arlecchino had the audacity to laugh with her tongue and finger still in his ass, huffing more hot air against his hole.
Varka could barely think straight; he felt like he was tingling all over in a pleasant way, as he could vaguely feel every nerve ending in his body. His head felt like it was filled with fog, and he couldn't exactly understand what was happening to him, but he felt relaxed immediately, like his whole body just released tension.
There was a gentle caress on his back as weight leaned over his back after it, a breath of warm air by his ear.
Arlecchino was asking something, asking for a color, what color did he feel? He knew this.
"Green," he sighed, leaning into the feeling of the hand on his back, the pleasant air on his neck, the weight on his legs, where she was leaning over most.
"Good," She whispered, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. "You're being so good for me, you deserve a reward, hm?"
Varka felt the fog pull him further as he whined something pitiful.
"But first, I want to see your face, Varka. Will you help me roll you over?"
He nodded into the pillows, trying and failing to get his arms under him and then support his own weight, so it was mostly him struggling before Arlecchino could tell he couldn't do it and helped him. In a fluid motion, he was on his back, arms thrown over his head, and his legs spread. Arlecchino tucked her face into his neck, sucking deep marks into the skin of his throat and shoulder.
He moaned, eyes fluttering and tilting his head up and away to give her room. Arlecchino pulled back and stared at him, lazing her hands over his ribs again, just feeling as she watched him. Her lustful gaze didn't help Varka's clarity as he started to laugh quietly, too blissful and probably dangerously dissociating.
If what was happening was bad, Arlecchino didn't say. In fact, in his haze, he's pretty sure her eyes grew darker with desire with every moment she stared at him. Varka gazed back with half-lidded eyes and a smile as he watched her spread his legs a bit more, removing her pants as she attached some kind of device to her pelvis, something long and- oh, her artificial dick, right. The device had a piece that lined up where her clit probably was, meaning every thrust she gave would rub against her deliciously.
Varka felt a little drunk with the buzzing of anticipation in his gut as he watched her slide oil over the device, before lining up with his entrance.
"Deep breaths, relax, Varka."
He exhaled a slow breath, though he didn't need to relax; he didn't think he could get calmer than he was right now. She steadied herself with a hand on his hip, pulling him closer as she pressed inside.
Varka kept thinking certain things were true tonight, only to be proven wrong. He thought he was as relaxed as he could get, but this time was no different. As soon as she was inside, he felt his back arch, his head toss back with a wall-shaken moan as the stars he saw the first time he came, whispered sweet nothings in the darkness behind his eyelids. The raw pleasure that enveloped his body as Arlecchino rocked into him, not stopping just because he'd cum a second time, was mind-numbing. The fog seemed to coat his mind so completely that he hardly heard when Arlecchino leaned down to ask him his color again, a look of something new in her eyes as she slowed her hips to a roll.
He whined pathetically, trying to thrust himself down on her cock again, but the hand on his hip stopped as she stared at him with that look and a negative crease to her brow.
Varka felt his stomach swoop in shame as a hurtful bout of feeling slammed into his ribs, ricocheting around his heart like a pin-pong finch, shattering through the fog and taking that blissful happiness with it.
Arlecchino stopped moving the longer it took him to answer, and the longer she stared at him, the worse the feeling got. He felt as if he couldn't unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth, couldn't form the single word it would take to get her to not look at him with what was probably disappointment- Oh Archons, she was disappointed in him! - All he could manage to get out was a whine, scrambling to hold onto her, to tell her without words that he wanted to keep going, that he was sorry, that he didn't mean to, he doesn't want to stop, please don't be upset with him, he knows he messed up, just please-
She let him grip her arms and pull her closer as she looked at him with that look, but it was quickly shifting to something else. "Oh, Varka... You're far away, aren't you?"
I'm still here, he whined, flexing his hands where they were holding her biceps. The upset look in her eyes changed back into what it had been when she'd asked his color.
"You must've thought I was mad at you, I see... How about this?" She rolled her hips once to emphasize her sentence. "I'll say the color, and you just shake your head yes or no. Can you do that for me?"
Yes, he whined, nodding his head. I can be good, I promise.
"Red?" She rolled her hips. No, he moaned, shaking his head.
"Hmm, Yellow?" She thrust in and out, choking a moan out of Varka as he threw his head back again. No, his body sang as he shook his head.
"I think I've got it now... Green?" She twisted one of his nipples, his leaking cock jumping despite having cum twice already, bordering on untouched overstimulation. Yes, he cried, nodding his head quickly, his eyes shut and his mouth dropped open in a permanent O as Arlecchino purred her praise, nails digging into his hips as she held on with both hands and resumed a steady but hard pace.
Varka felt that fog come back harder than before, layering every single thought and sense in dark blurs until all he could think, feel, see, smell, and touch was Arlecchino, Arlecchino, Arlecchino.
All that was missing was taste.
Varka fought the fog to squeeze at Arlecchino's biceps, where his hands had never left, even in their fairly loose and breakable grip. Arlecchino hummed in his ear, pulling up to look at him. "What is it that you need? Just ask, and it's yours, Varka."
Varka whined, moving his hands up to cup her face, to hold it, struggling to find the words to ask for what he wanted, too overwhelmed with pleasure and aching with more want than he knew what to do with. He breathed through his open mouth as Arlecchino brought a hand up to pull one of his hands away, pressing a gentle kiss to the palm of his hand. Varka wanted that on his mouth. He felt helpless, and it felt good, and he wanted this but didn't know how to ask for it, other than to whine and moan, hoping she could read his mind.
Arlecchino was watching him, smiling before pressing another kiss to the vein of his wrist. With another whine from Varka, she grinned like a shark, nipping and kissing along the skin of his arm as she made it up to his neck, sucking in dark marks on the opposite side that she had earlier- how long have they been here, it felt like hours and minutes all at once- Until she pressed bruised into the underside of his jaw, nipping at the line of bone before pulling his bottom lip into her mouth with teeth.
Finally, all of his senses were truly Arlecchino, Arlecchino, Arlecchino as she licked and bit into his mouth, consuming every moan and whine into the hollow of her throat like it was water for a stranded desert-traveler. The thrusts got faster and just as brutal. He felt that each thrust turned his legs into jelly as they gave in on their own strength, falling to the sides completely, like a soldier admitting defeat. He didn't feel this was a loss when Arlecchino began to pant, nearing her own release, rolling her hips as much as she was thrusting, hitting his prostate with every few thrusts. His dick felt like it was on fire, but the pressure and overstimulated sensations were too arousing and addictive for him to feel uncomfortable. He pulled from her mouth with determination as he unbuttoned only the top few buttons of her shirt to get at her neck and shoulder.
Arlecchino's soft moans in his ear were renewing his determination with each bite he pressed into her skin, each gentle kiss and bruising suck. He kept to her shoulder until he tried a spot along the back of her jaw, by her ear, that startled a different, deeper moan from Arlecchino, so Varka attached himself to the spot with vigor, eager to please.
Varka felt a hand wrap around his cock that made him pull off her neck with a higher-pitched moan. His overstimulated dick was done for if she decided to stroke it, but for the moment, she was just holding it.
"I'm close, Varka," she sighed, rolling another thrust. "Will you cum with me, like a good boy?"
Varka nodded, panting heavily, his voice wrecked and his vision blurring with tears as he bucked to meet her thrusts, his hips confused on whether he should press into her hand too, or pull away from it towards her cock.
"Just a little more," her voice shook, gasping softly. Without warning, she stroked up and down his dick thrice before he came for the third time that night. She left out a sharp gasp-moan as her hips slowed to a stop.
Varka couldn't recall what happened, other than the weight of her cock leaving him as he whined at the loss of something he never knew he'd want so much before today. He had never tried bottoming before; he didn't know how and why not. He thinks he died a little bit, saw Celestia, and came back down. He doubted he'd ever feel this good again.
Varka existed in the simple bliss as the world waned around him. Flat on his back as a warm, wet cloth wiped away at his thighs and ass, making his poor dick twitch with the memory of Arlecchino's tongue on his clothed member. There was light laughter as the cloth went away, the same feeling wiped the sweat and cum from his chest, ribs, and neck, before wiping away at his forehead. He hummed, his throat raw as he leaned into the gentle touches. A hand ran its fingers through his sweaty hair, rubbing at his scalp and bringing out a shudder in Varka before withdrawing.
The warmth of a body settled in next to him, pressing his face into their neck as he drifted, smiling. There was a rumble in their chest like a purr as a gentle humming reached his ears and lured him into a dark no-dream sleep, just floating in the inky black.
The only thing he could remember thinking before he slipped down, down, down, was If this is what being dominated by Arlecchino is like, maybe I should owe her more drinks in the future.
Come morning, there was no one beside him as he lay sprawled in the guest room sheets, only a note on the nightstand with his name in a delightful cursive scrawl.
Varka
I have to return to my mission, but I enjoyed myself last night.
I don't do romance, but sex is something I find myself enjoying with the right partner.
We should do it again in the future,
- A
If he smiled a little brighter when he went on his next mission, no one mentioned it.