#scaramouche x f!reader

[tamrielic]

pairing – scaramouche | wanderer × f!reader

fandom | media – genshin impact

word count – 4,659・AO3

summary – you’ve been avoiding him, and he needs to know why.

tags﹠warnings – smut・porn with plot・degradation・dirty talk・angst・hurt/comfort・fluff・scaramouche being scaramouche・scaramouche is his own warning honestly・vulnerable scaramouche・emotional reader・reader is very subtly implied to be plus-sized・reader has afab!genitalia

originally posted on – 11/07/2022

author’s note (11/07/2022) – if you’d told me a month or so ago that i’d write an almost 5,000 word smutfic featuring scaramouche, i would’ve laughed in your face... but here we are! i dedicate this fic to one of my most beloved and beautiful besties, gen aka getousimp aka gixxie, because she’s absolutely amazing and is the #1 scaramouche fan!!! i really hope that i did him justice, and i hope y’all enjoy – this is only my second ever smutfic that i’ve written and/or posted online! ALSO – i wrote this entire thing before the archon quest that features him (archon quest interlude chapter: act iii – inversion of genesis) and before he was (finally) released as a playable character, so... his characterization is questionable!

The smell of incense and the crackling of the fire in the large marble fireplace greet you as you step inside the mansion in the adepti teapot realm you call home, shutting the doors as quietly as possible behind you and releasing a soft sigh of relief when there is no noise to imply you’ve been heard.

Slowly, you make your way across the main area of the house to the room that was designated as the library and office, slipping inside silently and quickly sliding the doors shut behind you.

Inhaling deeply, you march over to the desk to begin sorting through the large pile of letters that had accumulated during your absence.

You’ve been traveling with Paimon, helping the Aranara in Sumeru and avoiding… well, avoiding multiple things. Searching for your brother, your various promises and responsibilities, and most importantly a certain short-tempered Anemo wielder.

Coming out of the haze of your thoughts, you notice the messy stack of books that had undoubtedly been made by some of your numerous guests and you huff as you grab them and go to put them away.

It wasn’t that Scaramouche had done anything wrong per se, it was more the issue of you being so naturally affectionate and showing it via physical touch and honest words… and worrying that it was becoming too much for him, or too annoying. Or both.

It hasn’t been that long since he’s joined your group of friends… only about two months, though could you honestly say that the two of you were friends?

He was so hot and cold, at times he was standoffish and rude, snapping at everyone and everything and it was during those times that you swore he hated you… but then the next time you’d come across him or have him join you while adventuring, he’d look at you with an unreadable expression and allow you to touch him without bristling, especially when you two were alone, and the back and forth of it confused you.

You’ve been oddly drawn to him ever since you had first met him in Inazuma, his voice sticking in your head and repeating his taunting words and the vision of him sauntering towards you with that insufferable smirk wouldn’t leave your mind…

In truth, your feelings have only gotten stronger as time had passed, especially after he’d reluctantly joined your adventuring team and you’d inevitably gotten to know him better.

If you are being honest, the sexual tension between you two could likely be cut with a knife and served on a platter… in addition to there being purer, deeper romantic feelings present.

It’s far too early to call it “love”, but it is certainly well on its way to becoming that dreaded word… on your end, at least.

You can feel your face heat up in response to the direction your thoughts have gone and as you shove the last book onto the bookshelf you lean forward and bonk your forehead against the hardwood in an effort to clear your mind.

In your distraction you haven’t noticed that the subject of your thoughts has snuck into the room and is moving towards you with purpose.

A pale hand suddenly slams down to grasp onto the shelf right behind you, the other hand gripping your waist and spinning you to face the intruder.

Purple eyes meet yours, anger making them almost burn from their intensity as he leans in so his face is mere inches away from yours.

Gasping, you shrank back against the bookshelf. “Scaramouche? What–?”

“You’ve been avoiding me. Why?” He bites out, eyes narrowing slightly and the fingers at your waist twitching in what you assumed to be frustration.

Blinking at him while you try to gather your thoughts, you can’t help but notice that he isn’t wearing his usual amount of layers – just the tight black high-collared shirt and his shorts and sandals rather than his familiar complex ensemble – and your face heats at the realization that so much of his skin was now visible to you.

Swallowing to try and moisten your suddenly dry mouth, you’re sure that your face openly shows how flustered you are.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’ve been busy but I haven’t been–”

“Cut the bullshit. Do you think I’m an idiot? It’s not like you’ve been subtle about it, and it’s pissing me off,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes as he moves the hand that has been pinning you to the bookshelf to grasp the back of your neck, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin of your nape.

Eyes widening at his actions and words, you clear your throat and square your shoulders.

“I’m sorry that you feel that way, Scaramouche, but–”

“Why are you calling me that?” He snaps, scowling at you with narrowed eyes.

“Calling you what? Your name?” You reply, eyes darting away from his prying gaze.

It was true that you haven’t necessarily been subtle, but you had assumed that he wouldn’t take much notice of the lack of attention and affection that he seemed to find barely tolerable – this vehement reaction was very unexpected and it was leaving you reeling.

He lets out an angry sigh before his fingers grasp your chin and force you to meet his eyes.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He demands, eyes flickering over your face as his lips turn down into a slight pout.

Glancing down at his mouth, you unconsciously wet your lips and his gaze immediately hones in on it.

Gasping softly, your mouth gapes a bit in surprise as you observe how his burning purple eyes darken as he focuses on your mouth, leaning ever so slightly closer and tilting his head as if entranced.

“Scaram–mmph!”

Lips pressing to yours cut you off, a low groan escaping him when you immediately reciprocate.

Eyes fluttering shut as you breathe him in, you bring your hands up to scratch your fingers through the coarse hair of his undercut.

Scaramouche growls then, shoving you up against the bookshelf as he presses as much of his body as he can to your own, the hand on your waist now groping at your soft skin.

Whimpering, your eyes shoot open and you tear your mouth from his to gasp for air as he starts roughly kissing down your jaw.

“Don’t lie, you were avoiding me. Because of this?” He whispers, lips and warm breath brushing the shell of your ear.

Exhaling with a whine, you nod before his lips press to your own again for a brief moment before he pulls away, nipping at your bottom lip.

He smirks at your dumb expression, tugging you over to the table in the middle of the room and reminding you that he was much stronger than he looked by easily lifting you up to sit on the edge, pushing the letters off and out of the way.

Gasping indignantly, you open your mouth to reprimand him but he takes the opportunity to kiss you again, sliding his tongue in your mouth with a muffled groan.

You can’t help but to close your eyes as your tongue glides against his, feeling that insufferable smirk of his against your lips.

Sliding his hands down to your thighs, he roughly pulls them apart so he can step between them and press his body to yours once again.

He chuckles at your resulting moan, slowly pulling back and licking his lips as if savoring the taste of you.

Your eyes flutter open as you unconsciously follow after him to chase his lips, his smirk growing at your resulting frustrated pout.

“You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid,” he teases, chuckling at your resulting scowl – but you didn’t deny it.

Before you could formulate a response, he grasps your hips and slides them towards him, making you yelp and slam your hands down on the table behind you to keep from collapsing.

Keeping his dark eyes locked with yours, he leans over you and slides his fingers under the waistband of your pants, tilting his head and tugging ever so slightly in question.

Biting your lip, you lift your hips in response, wiggling a little in impatience.

Inclining his head towards you, he pulls your pants off roughly and your arms give out as you collapse back down on the edge of the table, panting.

His hands tug at the hem of your shirt next as he bends over you, lips pressing bruising kisses to your neck as he slowly lifts it, fingertips tickling along the soft skin of your stomach.

Gasping, you reach between you and nudge his hands aside, practically tearing your shirt up and over your head to get rid of the offending garment.

“Eager, aren’t we?” He murmurs, chuckling lowly as he goes back to mouthing at your neck.

You whine and grab at his back as he bites down on your collarbone, his muscles flexing in response to the feeling of your fingernails digging into his skin as you jolt and cry out.

Groaning, he tears himself away from you to do a slow perusal of the skin that’s been bared to him.

You feel like you’re going to implode, the way his eyes manage to get even darker and his expression more severe in its blatant lust, and you jerk your hips up uncontrollably in response.

His eyes immediately flick down to where you’re soaked and burning for him and his throat bobs with a swallow before he looms over you, skimming his hand slowly down the curve of your waist before sliding a finger against the wetness of the fabric concealing you from him.

“Look at you, look at how wet you are – is this all for me?” He questions, voice gone rough from arousal.

Nodding and biting your lip, you can’t help but to grind up into his fingers.

“So needy,” he grunts, crouching down to nip at your inner thigh.

“Scara, I–!”

“Oh, we’re back to Scara now, hm?” He laughs harshly, making quick work of tugging your panties down and off your legs as he shakes his head at you.

“Scara, I’m sorry–!”

“You should be,” he interrupts you again, glaring up at you from between your legs.

You’re a desperate whimpering mess at this point, and you don’t manage to form a response before he runs his fingers up your inner thighs and jerks them open as much as your body will allow.

“Now be a good girl and say “please” and maybe I’ll give you what you want,“ he growls, brushing the tip a finger through your wetness.

“Please, Scara, I need you!” You whine, embarrassed at how needy you sound but also so turned on that you can’t bring yourself to care.

Smirking, he finally takes mercy on you and slowly slides a finger into you, eyes widening at the feel of your slick warmth.

You keen and writhe against the table when he slowly adds another finger and crooks them, expertly massaging a spot on your inner walls that makes you see stars and causes more heat to pool between your thighs.

“Look at you, getting all worked up over nothing! Your pretty pussy can barely handle my fingers – what a pathetic little thing you are,” he laughs mockingly, thrusting his fingers into you roughly.

Panting, you bite your lip and glance down to meet his eyes, silently begging him for more as your thighs tremble and your back arches.

Breath hitching at your desperation, he suddenly shoves his head between your thighs and licks a broad stroke through your folds, swirling his tongue around your clit before lightly grazing his teeth against it.

You wail, your walls contracting around his fingers as you feel like you’ve been hit by lightning as the tension snaps, little whines escaping you as your hips shudder and grind against his face.

Chuckling, he laps up your release as you ride out your high before getting up and looming over you, smirking at your fucked out expression.

“We’ve barely gotten started and already you’re being such a good little slut for me,” he murmurs, licking his lips suggestively when your eyes flutter open to blearily look at him.

You want to pinch yourself because you swear this has to be a dream, it is all happening so quickly and you’ve just had one of the best orgasms of your entire life but are somehow still so unbelievably horny for him.

His face is flushed and he still has some of your juices on his chin, but his eyes burn with the depth of his want for you as your gazes meet and he smirks, smug about having made you cum.

Glancing down and seeing the tented fabric of his shorts, you lift your still shaking legs to wrap around his waist and pull him into you, rolling your hips against his clothed cock and watching his face intently.

His eyes flutter closed and he lets out a strangled moan, back bowing and lips hovering over your own as he clutches at your hips and ruts into the warmth between your legs.

“Scara, I’m all yours – take me,” you whisper, reaching up to cup his cheeks and pull his head down to kiss him.

Jolting his head back just as your lips brush his, his eyes shoot open and he pants while looking at you incredulously.

You furrow your brows at his sudden change in attitude, your thumbs lightly brushing his cheekbones and you bite your lip, suddenly afraid that you’ve said the wrong thing.

After a moment of his eyes frantically scanning your expression – looking for what exactly, you weren’t sure – his hands slam down on either side of your head.

“Always so honest about your emotions,” he hisses, eyes becoming unreadable as he nips at your lips yet refuses to let you close the gap. “It’s really fucking infuriating, you know that?”

Huffing in exasperation to hide how his seemingly indignant response hurts your feelings, you glare up at him.

“Fine, then – can you just fuck me already, Kunikuzushi?”

He pulls back, smoldering eyes glaring into your own as he releases a shattered breath in response to you calling him that name.

“Oh, now you’re making demands of me?” He rasps, regaining his composure with a harsh thrust against your cunt.

Suddenly hit with a wave of irritation and frustration, you push your hands against his chest in an attempt to get him off of you.

“If you don’t want to, then nevermind,” you mutter, turning your head away to hide the “if you don’t want me” implied from your tone and expression.

Lunging to press your wrists down into the table above your head with one hand, he turns your head back towards him with the other, a deep scowl on his face.

“Why are you putting words into my mouth? What gives you the right to assume what I do or don’t want?”

You glare at him, trying to jerk your face out of his harsh grip which only makes his fingers dig into your jaw harder as he crowds you against the table with his body.

“Stop being such a fucking brat,” he growls as he presses quick, bruising kisses against your lips.

“Make me!” You snarl back at him, body writhing under his own.

He chuckles lowly before it morphs into him laughing loudly and mockingly as he observes your struggles.

“Gladly.”

Letting go of your face to swiftly pull down his shorts just enough to free his erection, he groans as he slides it between your folds.

“Fuck… this is my pussy, it belongs to me and only me, doesn’t it?”

Whimpering and nodding in response, your hands struggle to escape his grasp as you grind your hips against the tip of his cock, trying miserably to get it to catch in your soaking wet opening.

He shudders against you, grabbing your hip with his free hand to hold you still.

“No, no,” he chides, his signature smirk back on his lips. “Only good girls get rewarded, and you’ve been such a brat.”

“Scara, fuck, just take me!” You keen, so overwhelmed with frustration and pleasure that there are tears gathering in your eyes.

Scaramouche laughs, one that borders on a cackle, before he presses his lips against your temple.

“Are you crying? You want me that bad, huh? You’re so fucking pathetic, you did this to yourself you know,” he whispers roughly, tongue flicking out to run along the shell of your ear.

“But don’t worry, I’ll take pity on you.”

He suddenly thrusts into you, bottoming out and leaving you a moaning and babbling mess as he holds himself still to allow you to adjust to his size.

“Oh Archons, please–!”

“Don’t pray to them, they can’t help you, pray to me,” he snarls, pulling out of you just enough for you to whine at the loss before roughly thrusting back inside and making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Scara, Kuni, please – fuck – more, faster!”

He grants your request with a strangled moan, hips slamming into your own at such a desperate and brutal pace that you know there’s going to be bruises.

Leaning down so your foreheads are pressed together, you stare into each other’s eyes and pant as the sound of his hips slapping against yours fills the air.

The hand that has been keeping your wrists bound lets go, fingers instead curling into the sheets as he continues his merciless thrusts – eyes observing your every reaction hungrily.

“Kuni, feels s’good!” You sob, your now free arms reaching up to wrap around his neck and your legs tightening around his hips.

“F-fuck!” He whimpers, cock twitching against your walls and hips stuttering against you.

Your body feels like it’s melting, fingers carding through his hair to shakily push it out of his face so you can view the way his brow furrows as he grits his teeth.

“Say it,” he commands shakily, jerking your face up so he can stare into your eyes. “Say that you’re mine. My slut, my whore, my everything.”

“Anything and everything that I am is yours, Kunikuzushi,” you choke out with a sob, following up your declaration by tilting your hips and pressing your lips to his, gliding your tongue in and tasting him as he groans at the feeling of your walls fluttering around his cock.

His thrusts grow even more frantic and deep and you roll your hips up to meet his movements, your sweaty bodies writhing together as you fully succumb to each other.

“I’m gonna paint your insides,” he gasps into your mouth, sliding a hand down to rub your swollen clit. “I’m gonna fill you up–!”

Those words and the added stimulation flood your body with overwhelming heat and you wail as you are thrown over the edge, gushing around his cock as he delivers one last powerful thrust before spilling into you with a choked moan.

His trembling body slumps over yours and he buries his head in your shoulder, gasping for air as your bodies continue to twitch with the aftershocks.

After a few moments pass, Scaramouche slowly peels himself away from you, his eyes darting away from your unintentionally open, loving gaze as he slowly slides out of you with a quiet grunt.

Sighing at the loss of him, you inelegantly scoot forward to hop off the table, squeezing your legs together to keep his cum from trickling down your legs.

He snatches the clothes from where they are strewn on the floor and puts his shorts back on before turning to you and holding out your panties and trousers with a blank expression.

Your face feels hot from embarrassment at how drastically his attitude has changed from just a few moments ago and you reach out to grab your clothing, eyes searching him for a sign of… anything, but finding him to be totally unreadable.

Mortified, you turn to the side and shake out your pants, the realization of what had just happened finally hitting you. You haven’t even fully undressed, too engrossed and desperate for each other that you just… went at it like animals in heat.

You don’t notice when he turns and goes to the desk in the corner to grab the box of tissues and bring it to you, clearing his throat as his eyes drift to where your combined fluids were beginning to slowly trickle down your inner thighs.

Flinching at being torn from your downward spiral of second-guessing everything that has happened within the past hour, you look up and slowly reach out to take the box from him, being careful to not brush your fingers together – you aren’t sure where his mind is at and you don’t want to scare him off by being clingy.

“Thank you,” you breathe, pulling his gaze back up to your face and flashing him a quick smile before you turn away to clean yourself up as much as you can.

He turns and walks over to stand in front of the window to give you privacy, which you find very amusing considering what you had just been doing, but you can’t help but watch him out of the corner of your eye as he crosses his arms and seemingly becomes lost in though, his hair mussed and his lips still flushed from the plethora of bruising kisses.

Finding him attractive obviously wasn’t a new development, but it suddenly hits you with the beam of sunlight shining in through the window that was illuminating him just how… beautiful he is.

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts and hurrying to pull your clothes back on, you take a deep breath and summon all the courage you possess.

He turns to look at you as you come to stand next to him, and you were hit once again by how pretty he is; the slope of his nose, his eyelashes, his–

“What are you looking at?” His voice, still a little rough from your activities, snaps you out of your admiration and you blink at him.

He’s staring at you with his brow raised, lips ever so slightly turned down.

“So pretty,” you whisper, eyes widening in panic when you realize that you’ve spoken your inner thoughts aloud.

Scaramouche blinks at you in disbelief, processing your words before letting out a short, humorless laugh.

“I can’t believe it, I actually fucked you dumb!” He snickers, but the smirk on his lips doesn’t reach his eyes.

You gape at him, mouth opening and closing as you try to figure out how to respond to his dismissive attitude.

He grasps your chin in his hand, making the decision of closing your mouth for you, and rolls his eyes.

Grabbing the hand holding your chin, you place soft kisses on his palm, staring into his eyes and pleading for him to understand how truthful you’re being.

Scowling, he wrenches his hand away from you, taking a step back and shaking his head.

“Scara, we need to talk ab–”

“Do we? I disagree,” he snaps, turning and stalking towards the door.

“Kunikuzushi,” you whisper in desperation, and he freezes in place as he’s reaching for the door handle.

“This whole situation started because I was avoiding you, and it made you angry and upset. And yet you’re about to go and do the exact same thing to me. How is that fair?” You demand, voice shaking from all of the emotions you’re trying to keep in check.

He slowly turns to face you, eyes narrowing.

“Life isn’t fair – what do you want from me?”

It’s like you’re talking to a different person, the man in front of you is not the man that railed you into oblivion and ruined you for all others just a minute ago. This man reminds you of a feral cat – suspicious, mistrustful, insecure…

Your hands are shaking, the anxiety over bearing your heart to him causing you to hesitate briefly.

“What do you want from me?” You snap back. “Is this what you wanted? Just a quick fuck? Is that really all I am to you? Some poor, pathetic sap who’s attention and affection makes you feel good about yourself?”

Scaramouche stood there staring at you, unmoving and unblinking, for what felt like ages.

“Okay, you know what – nevermind! You’re free to go, but honestly at this point I almost hope that you just never come back,” you scoff, eyes watering, throwing your hands up in the air and turning away so he can’t see you cry and so you don’t have to look at his stupid perfect face anymore.

All you hear is a faint whisper of fabric before he spins you around and cups your face in his hands, his mouth pressing a desperate, bruising kiss to your lips.

Gasping, you put your hands on his chest and shove him back, your embarrassment making you feel fragile and hostile.

“That isn’t an answer, Scara, and I’m not a mind reader so I can’t–”

“Everything,” he rasps, closing his eyes and nudging his forehead against yours.

“... what?” You furrow your brow, confused.

“You asked what I wanted from you. I answered. Everything. I want everything from you. I want you to be mine,” he whispers, warm breath brushing your lips when he follows up his statement with a shaking sigh.

Your bottom lip trembles as you try to keep your voice from cracking with emotion.

“If I am yours, then you have to be mine. I want everything from you, too. I want to kiss you, touch you, hold you, love you.”

He inhales shakily, opening his eyes.

“If you can’t tell that I’m already yours, that I’ve been yours since you aimed that fucking smile of yours towards me, then you’re an absolute fucking idiot.”

“It’s kind of hard to tell when you’re always so wishy-washy on whether you tolerate me or not, Scaramouche,” you respond, blinking at him innocently, his sudden reveal of his feelings giving you courage.

“What did I say about calling me that?” He growls, stepping closer to press himself against you.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir – is Kunikuzushi acceptable then?” You simper, mimicking his usual smirk to the best of your ability.

His eyes widen and his cheeks and ears flush a faint pink as he grumbles, dropping his arms to wrap them around your waist.

“Keep it up and I’ll have to drag you to your bedroom and teach you a lesson, brat,” he growls, pressing his mouth to your ear.

You turn your head to press a kiss to his neck, grinning uncontrollably now as you both shift seamlessly back into the dynamic that had been created when he had gotten settled in your group – the usual snarky banter and the easy affection you give him comforting after the unsureness that was present just now.

“Is that a threat or a promise? Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

He huffs and rolls his eyes, pulling away to grasp your arm and drag you out of the room.

“Wait, what–?” You stammer, following him gracelessly.

“It seems that I still have to teach you some fucking manners, slut.”

Glancing back at you as he leads you through the door, the look in his eyes and his smirk makes your face heat.

“But you’ll be a good girl and cooperate with me, won’t you?”

You swallow, overwhelmed with all of the filthy thoughts that run through your mind before you shake your head to ground yourself.

It had required a lot of vulnerability and a rollercoaster of emotions, but you finally know your feelings are reciprocated… and as you let him take you to your room you realized that Scaramouche was about to show you just how much in long, excruciatingly wonderful detail.

[quimichi]

↳ ❝ [OPEN THE WINDOW] ¡! ❞

↳ Chat: Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3

characters: Dottore, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kazuha, Kaveh, Lyney, Neuvillette & Scaramouche x F!Reader

[zaephix]

XOXO, kiss me, dont say no! / / genshin and star rail men . . .

the various ways they kiss you throughout your relationship <3

warnings: fluff, slightly suggestive in general but rlly suggestive on the last one lolz

w/c: .774k

author's note: this is lazy ash sorry but ive been so unmotivated recently its crazy also super random but dont let my blog theme deceive u my fav colors r pink and orange im js too lazy to change it LMAO

he opts for more chaste kisses, kisses that are shared between the two of you in passing. forehead kisses that happen between the two of you as he brings you your coffee for the day, kisses on the cheek as he has one hand on your waist to get past you, kisses on the corner of your lips to get that one crumb off of them. they leave you excited and almost pining for the next one. he is a busy man, sure, but he'd never not make time for affection between the two of you.

diluc, ayato, alhaitham, neuvilette, thoma, kaeya, baizhu, chongyun, sunday, dr. ratio, luocha, gepard, blade, aventurine . . .

he gives you a kiss every chance he gets. on your cheek, forehead, nose, neck, and even your chin at times. he's so quick about it, always finding the most obscure places to place his lips. you can't help but reciprocate it, turning it into a game on how many you can give eachother without it being in the same place. it was only when you gave him a quick peck on the lips did he finally click in his head that he could've kissed you there all along. "oh."

venti, itto, childe, heizou, lyney, gaming, razor, kaveh, cyno, sampo, luka, jing yuan, yanqing . . .

he is a gentleman first and foremost. he checks with you by the slightest glance between the two of you before leaning down to press his lips against yours. kisses to the back of your hand, the crown of your head, the veins on your wrist... the list goes on and on. it was to the point where the simplest graze of his fingers on your skin as he fixes your clothes felt intimate. and to be honest it makes you almost fall in love with him again, your perfect gentleman.

zhongli, diluc, neuvilette, thoma, wriothesley, kazuha, ayato, welt, gepard, gallagher, luocha, argenti, dan heng . . .

he is rather the opposite, he is a tease before everything. it seems like you can never have your way with him. his lips would just barely brush with yours, his eyes looking at you with a too-proud smirk. he'd either be insanely quick or painfully slow, no in between. he knew what he was doing, and god was it driving you mad. it was just when you started giving him his own medicine did he understand how you felt, and by the end of the week he was putty in your arms, begging for more.

kaeya, childe, cyno, kaveh, venti, xingqiu, lyney, wriothesley, jiaoqiu, sampo, boothill, aventurine, dan feng, gallagher. . .

his favorite kisses are lazy kisses. kisses that require no minimum amount of effort but still leave you satisfied. he says he just prefers to take his time with you, but all that really means is that he just wants to put his lips on you wherever he can. slow drags of his mouth tickle your skin, his face buried in your neck. he especially loves it when you caress his lips with your fingers before leaning in to kiss him, the soft matress beneath you dipping as you whisper into his ears before sleep takes you both, "g'night."

alhaitham, kazuha, kaeya, scaramouche, aether, jing yuan, dr ratio, blade, welt, boothill, aventurine . . .

kisses with him somehow always feel nervous. like he's inching towards you before (awkwardly) looking away to anywhere but your face. you made him feel like a boy with his first crush, ears slightly red at the possibility of a kiss. many of these times you had to initiate them yourself, easing him into it. now that he had someone to call his own, it felt almost surreal. and unbenknownest to you, he regularly kisses you on your forehead as you're sleeping, your dreams suddenly feeling sweeter than before.

aether, scaramouche, albedo, lyney, bennett, kaveh, freminet, gorou, tighnari, xiao, dan heng, arlan, gepard, moze . . .

his kisses feel straight out of a romance drama, always tender and sickeningly sweet. and you can't help but wonder if he takes notes on your favorites. but no, this was just how he was. the way he'd hold intense eye contact before leaning in to close the gap, the way he cradled the side of your head, even the way he'd softly whisper "is this okay?" each and every time. he leaves your face and neck warm and flushed, and when you try and hide it, he gently tilts your head up with his fingers. "don't hide your face, pretty"

ayato, baizhu, diluc, zhongli, kazuha, neuvillette, venti, kaeya, thoma, argenti, boothill, jing yuan, gepard . . .

he prefers to have his kisses as few as possible, yet with the most passion as he can muster. kisses between the two of you are rare unless its initiated by you, like small gestures like forehead and cheek kisses. but there are times where even he cant deny himself of your lips, pulling you into his lap randomly out of the blue. when he does decide to take pity on the both of you, he takes your breath and soul away. they're hot, heavy, full of pent up emotion, bad or good. and by the end you two are breathing into eachother's mouth, both your eyes telling eachother to not stop.

alhaitham, albedo, scaramouche, diluc, capitano, xiao, sunday, blade, dr ratio, dan heng, dan feng, moze . . .

[angelsrcute]

WAAAAA HII i’m the one who asked kazuha, scara and ajax with a weak s/o months ago!! ૮꒰ ˶> ༝ <˶꒱ა I HOPE YOU’RE DOING WELL!! i wanted to request dom!virgin!scara and fem!sub!virgin!reader first time please ໒꒰ྀི ∩ ⸝⸝ ∩ ꒱ྀིა but like scara knows what he’s doing!! sorry if this doesn’t makes sense, you can ignore this if you want!! have a good day!! ໒꒰ྀི˃ ⌑ ˂ഃ ꒱ྀི১

CAN YOU MAKE IT LAST FOREVER? ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 — smut ! ◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — Scaramouche w f!reader ◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — gentle sex, praising, unprotected sex. 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐳 . . (_ _ ) — HEYYY! I'M GOOD, HOPE YOU'RE DOING WELL TOO! Hope you enjoy this!! + ty for 800 followers, love you guys haha <3

Prepping kisses to your thighs, his tongue works on your folds, lewd slurping sounds filling the room. Your thighs over his shoulders, as he delves deeper into your core.

“Scara! It's too much–! G-Gonna cum..”

A wave of pleasure washes you, the heat rising to your face as you come on his tongue. He laps up all the juices like a starved man. Looking at your flushed face with a smirk, “Such a good girl, you are, do you think you can take me?”

Nodding quickly, you try to catch your breaths. His hair stuck on his forehead due to sweat. He wastes no time, unzipping his jeans, letting his cock out of its confines. He puts some lube on his cock, spreading it. You both let out a whimper as he slowly pushed his cock into you.

Hands clawing at the bedsheet as he pounds into you at a gentle pace, your moans, his grunts and slapping of skin are the only sounds that can be heard.

“Does it hurt, darling?”

“N-no, it feels so good, don't stop, please–”

“Oh? it feels good? I'm glad,” He leans in to kiss you, his tongue exploring your mouth, he leaves some open mouthed on your neck and gently sucks on the skin.

“Shit, gonna come, let's come together, darling..”

You feel his cock twice inside you as he fills you up, making your stomach feel all warm. Your nails dig into his back as you come too, white rings forming on his cock.

“Hey…wanna go again? I wanna have a mini version of myself.” He whispers with a shit eating grin as he starts moving again.

[suguru-getos]

୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 5﹕✦﹕┈・୧

-> Scaramouche x f!reader: Edging

Event Masterlist

Your boyfriend The Wanderer— had suddenly changed. He says he remembers his past, who he was. You couldn’t believe him really— still, the determination in his eyes when he tried to make you familiar with his identity was a sight to behold. He had also, gotten meaner. In the best ways, still, there was such a big change in his behavior, you couldn’t take it easily. For example: the person who didn’t even tell you to ask for permission to cum, was edging you right now!

“Please— please love,” you gasped, feeling his hands wrap around the plush of your thighs, parting them away and nibbling, lapping at your cunt. Scaramouche looked carnal right now, a daring glare shot at you when you rutted your hips too hard against his face. “Don’t be filthy. Behave.” He snarled, watching the pout on your face turn into a wobbly lip. It felt so good— your loins were on fire.

Your back arched at Scaramouche’s relentless movements along your cunt, his lips wrapped around your clit and suckling, hands grating up & cupping your breasts, squeezing them, pinching your tits. Every movement pushed you forward to the cusp of the orgasm— again. His digits placed inside your heat, curling up, moving in & out until he felt the ever so familiar series of clamping.

“NO!” You squealed, all his movements halting down. “Ssh, told you, didn’t I? You’d cum when I think you should.” Scara reminded you, shushing your whimpers with a needy, rewarding kiss. “Good girl.” He praised, lathering up your wetness in his fingers and suckling on them. “Taste yourself.” His fingers shoved their way into your lips, while you suckled onto his digits diligently.

“Do you wanna cum this time?” Scara smirked, watching your body zeroed out all over again. “Yes, yes.” You gasped, flustered at how quickly you managed to babble those sentences.

“Where are your manners?” He scoffed, slapping your clit.

“AH! Please— sir.” You whimpered, oh you were so mouldable now. All in for his touches, wanting more and more and more…

“Good, then cum over my cock.” He slipped his member out, spreading your pussy lips and rutting himself balls deep. You soaked him inside you easily, given the pool of wetness that ran down your thighs. “That’s it, good girl.” Scara praised, panting alongside you. “This pussy’s so good you know that?” Watching your mouth agape with a lip-bite.

“Hold it in, cum with me & only, with me. You understood?” Scara commanded.

“Yes, sir.”

[narcissarina]

𝙼𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 10.4ᴋ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs/ᴛᴀɢs: ɪɴsᴜʟᴛɪɴɢ ᴡᴏʀᴅs, ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴs, ᴘ ɪɴ ᴠ, ᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘʟᴏᴛ, ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ sᴇx, ᴄᴏʟʟᴇɢᴇ ᴀᴜ, ᴍᴜsɪᴄ ᴄᴏᴜʀsᴇ!sᴄᴀʀᴀ × ᴀʀᴛ ᴄᴏᴜʀsᴇ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴘᴇᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇs, ғᴜᴄᴋ ʙᴜᴅᴅɪᴇs ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀs(?) ʀɪᴄʜᴅᴏᴍ!sᴄᴀʀᴀ, ɢᴇɴᴛʟᴇ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ(ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ǫᴜɪᴛᴇ ᴠᴜʟɢᴀʀ ᴛᴏᴏ), ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴘʀᴀɪsᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ?, sʟᴏᴡʙᴜʀɴ?, ʜᴜʀᴛ/ᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛ (ɪ sᴜᴄᴋ ᴀᴛ ᴛᴀɢɢɪɴɢ sʀʀʏ, ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ɪғ ɪ ᴍɪssᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ!!)

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴠᴇ ɪɴ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴅᴇ ᴏғ ᴛᴇʏᴠᴀᴛ, ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ʟɪᴠᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡᴀs ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇғᴜʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ. ᴠɪsɪᴏɴs ᴡᴇʀᴇ ɴᴏ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ sᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʀᴄʜᴏɴs. ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɪɴ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇɢᴇ, ᴀɴ ᴀʀᴛ sᴛᴜᴅᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴏᴏᴍᴍᴀᴛᴇ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴs ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴀ��ᴅᴇɴs. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴡᴇᴀʟᴛʜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴜsɪᴄ ɪɴᴅᴜsᴛʀʏ, ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴇʟᴅᴇsᴛ sᴏɴ; sᴄᴀʀᴀᴍᴏᴜᴄʜᴇ ʀᴀɪᴅᴇɴ ᴡᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴏᴏᴍɪᴇ, ʜᴇ ʜᴀs... ᴀ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴜɴɪǫᴜᴇ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ. ʜᴏᴡ ᴏᴘᴘᴏsɪᴛᴇs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛɪᴇs ᴡᴇʀᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ʜᴜᴍʙʟᴇ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ʜᴇ’s ғᴜʟʟ ᴏғ ʜɪᴍsᴇʟғ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴄᴋʏ. ᴏᴘᴘᴏsɪᴛᴇs ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛs, sᴏ. ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴅᴇsᴘɪᴛᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢ sᴏ ᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ? ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜ sᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴇ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴏʀᴍ ʀᴏᴏᴍ?

ᴀ/ɴ: ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ɪ ᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇɢɪɴɴɪɴɢ, ɪ ᴜsᴇ ʀᴀɪᴅᴇɴ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʟᴀsᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇ (ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ sʜᴏɢᴜɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇɪ’s) ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ! ɢʀᴀᴍᴍᴀʀ ᴇʀʀᴏʀs ᴀʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴘᴇᴇᴘs!!

There was another world of Teyvat that exist.

Where gods and visions were no longer needed, where everything become modern and everyone lives peacefully.

Where the dead lived and had a happy life.

Where what it felt like everyone live in the same continent of Teyvat.

Catalyst, swords, claymores, and bows no longer wield a purpose in this part of Teyvat—weapons no longer needed as it was replaced by advance weapons. Only meant to be use if you’re in position to use them.

In this side of Teyvat, you no longer need to fear the heavenly principles—fear the gods nor worship them or think of the visions.

Even the archons saw how Teyvat change over the course of hundreds of years, now that their people don’t need gods nor visions no more. They now live among human society and pretended that they aren’t archons—but one of them.

Maybe the this Teyvat you live in could differ than the old “Teyvat” that the elders use to tell?

დ➳დ➳დ↴

The light of the sun illuminates to your room, how your alarm goes off to have your eyes flutter open and start your day anew. A yell was heard from downstairs kitchen, “y/n! Get up, hon.” The voice called.

You sat up, eyes half-lidded and still heavy. You stretched out your stiff muscles as a knock was heard from your door then your mother; still in a cooking apron stood from your door frame.

“Get up, dear.” Mother spoke as she knock on your door again, a little louder this time so you could hear. You can only reply with a tired groan giving your mother a thumbs up and rubbing your eyes gently.

“Pack your things, ok?” she reminded you, “and breakfast is ready, sweetheart. Come down and eat, all right?” she added before leaving your room and shutting your door.

Pacing out and blankly staring at the wall in front of you, you hop out of bed and start your day with showering first then packing your clothes for college. And maybe add some other things that can keep you entertained.

Art major, that’s right. You are an art student. The one who has poor posture every time you draw either traditionally on paper or in your digital tablet—that probably cost you more fortune.

You love to draw ever since you were little, probably at around the age of 5 or 6—well, everybody goes through that phrase right? Then when they came to age; they find new passion that suits them more and never touch paper and pencils again.

Well, that’s what you think anyways.

It doesn’t surprise your parents that you took art classes and art school in middle school, then now? Art major in the most well known college around Teyvat. It would take a while to get there even by car.

After getting done, your steps were light as you got down stairs and had your luggage’s ready. Your mom smiled as the two of you exchange a kiss on the cheek as a way to greet your mornings, “Morning, mom.” You greeted and sat down on a stool bar chair, resting both of your elbows in to the table while mom cooks your favorite breakfast.

There’s still time before mom drives you to college, “have you packed your necessaries, dear?” mom asked, you replied, your voice sounded like a murmur as you spoke. “yeah, I packed almost everything, mom.” You chuckle.

“alright then, sweetheart.” She sweetly smiled, turned off the stove—took a plate then happy place it down in front of you, what did mom cooked? The usual. Omelet with rice and French toast with jam. Yummy.

As you eat, mom hang her cooking apron at the fridge handle and let down her hair as she tidy up her attire. She breaks the silence as you eat, “So I heard that your…” she raised an eyebrow with a grin planted in her face, you rolled your eyes playfully in response. “Yeah, yeah. He’ll be there, alright.” You giggled and munch on your French toast with jam feeling.

“Do you know that the eldest son of the Raiden will be there to attend classes too?” Mom asked, fixing her blouse and skirt. Looks like she’s getting ready to get to work too.

The Raiden’s, that’s a name that you haven’t heard—no, even not familiar to you. All you hear, either in school or friend groups that the Raiden’s are insanely rich and owns a music industry. Hell, even the eldest son has a band that you… Well, surprisingly follow their band socials and listen to their music; 6reeze.

Neat band name, even though they all look like emo kids that hasn’t surpass their emo phase.

You were intrigued, “the eldest son, attending the same college as mine?” you ask to be sure, mom nods and turn around to have you look at her work attire.

“Yeah, and dear. How do I look?” She asked and gave a little twirl to showcase her proud look and attire, you smiled then finished your breakfast as you gave mom a double thumbs up. “You look great, mom.”

The two smiled as she gestures you to get up whilst she get her car keys, her jacket in hand and took your luggage’s too to have them inside the car. You followed along, chatted as the both of you got inside the car and continued sharing stories, your future even, then mom telling you how proud she is to you and how proud dad will be if he saw you, his baby girl all grown up and pursuing her dream.

He would’ve love seeing you stand in that stage, give your speech and throw your graduation hat in the air.

დ➳დ➳დ↴

“So…” mom starts, breaking the eerie silence throughout the ride as trees passes by your window seat, mom continued. “The raiden boy, the one that will be attending the same college as you.”

“What about him, mom?” you manage to mutter with a curious tone, tilting your head to your side as you listen to your moms words. “I heard he has… uhm…” she cleared her throat before continuing, “a rather, unique personality.” There was a pause in her sentence, unsure what she just meant by that.

“He can be, you know.”

“A jerk? I know mom, he has an ego and I don’t know why the internet love him about his bitch behavior.”

“y/n!” Mom called your name with a warning tone, “mind your language, young missy!” she pinch your side while looking out for the road. “owie!” you could only yelp and purse your lips to her direction, “I mean. It’s true that he has an ego and attitude.” You murmur under your breath.

“Don’t call him a bitch.” Mom shook her head, “but he is.” You groan, “y/n!”

“Fine, fine,” you laughed as mom continues to pinch and tickle your side, “I won’t call him a bitch, please mom! Eyes on the road!” you laughed as she just let out a sigh and smiled at you. You knew she couldn’t keep herself angry with you, you’re her angel. An angel that has a little wild and dark side, your tongue that has no remorse when it comes to speaking your mind. Yeah, an angel.

“I love you.” You confess and gave her your best puppy eyes that you know she could not resist. Mom let out a hum of an “aww” as the end of her lips tug a wide and wholesome smile, “I love you too, my baby boo.”

“Ew, what’s with that pet name.” you tease and giggle again, “I’m not going to buy you Starbucks.” Mom remarked as you plead for her forgiveness the whole ride.

The whole ride was filled with laughter and a strong bond between mother and daughter. You were glad that you have her as your mom, and your mom was glad that she has a daughter like you.

დ➳დ➳დ↴

It was huge, when I tell you huge. Huge, like really, really huge.

No wonder this college was well-known to over Teyvat. From what you heard from a friend—who also heard it from a friend. That not only it has a classy and massive inside, it also has a garden! Truly perfect to find yourself lost in endless inspiration, where you are surrounded with beautiful views.

They also give high class education, expect teachers be tight and extra strict. But overall! It was perfect! So perfect that you felt intimidated, just by the other looks of student, they all look… Expensively stylist and beautiful. Probably get themselves Starbucks like it’s in their daily lives.

Your mom assist your luggage’s as you are busy admiring how lovely and massive your college school is, “You already love it here, dear?” Mom let out a chuckle as she got a glimpse of your mouth agape and thinking you just saw the most jaw-dropping scene you have ever seen.

“The school view is great, honey, but do you mind helping your dear mommy?”

You turn around to face her, snap yourself back to Teyvat and hum a chuckle, “sorry, mom.” You apologize and lower your head to the ground, “I’d be lost in my own mind too if I’m attending to this kind of school too.” Mom admitted with a laugh as she took out one more luggage, “Let’s go.” She gestured as the both of you walk and talk then take flyers that’s been handing out.

You got in your dorm room, it was alright. Plain white walls and bed, luckily the school provides each students their own desk study in their own dorm room. “oh look! You got the first dip. Pick your bed, hun.” Mom spoke as she neatly tuck your luggage’s to the side as you inspect the beds and desk first.

“I’ll have the bed on the left.” You mutter and flop down, “set your things up before laying around, hm?” She clicked her tongue as she sat beside you, “I know you felt a little bit intimidated by the environment of the school and students here. But whenever you need me, I’m free to call and hun.” She pauses and brush your hair that’s been covering your face, “you’ll do great, I know it!” she encourages you and stood up from your bed.

You sat up with a smile, “I know, mom,” you hum, “thank you.” You smile as you stand up too to hug her goodbye, exchanging a kiss on the cheek before she bid farewell.

Now that she left, how about unpacking your things first and get some rest for the day? You too, are curious who’s going to be your roommate for today.

დ➳დ➳დ↴

Everyone was busy in campus, playing and welcoming new students as they hand out flyers to promote their program nor club.

A smile in all of their faces, playful chattering in the background—everywhere you walk nor set sight to. There will be people either playing, giving out flyers and chattering.

And of course, this was suffocating for him.

Most of the crowd went silent as the boys steps out from their car, their instrument on their back as the boy with a medium-length dark green forest colored hair with a teal undertones. What’s more eye catchy is his golden irises with avian pupils, and a red eyeshadow. He also has a diamond marking on his forehead and he only held a drumstick rather than a big case of the instrument like the others.

He was the first one to step out, and he goes by the name; Xiao. His green tattoo almost visible because of the length of his sleeve, numerous fans adored his cold demeanor. As if it’s giving, cold prince vibes.

Murmur filled the air, quiet squeals and excited whispers were heard.

“Who are they again? 6reeze?”

“Holy moly, good archon! Aren’t they handsome?”

“I want Xiao’s autograph.”

“The main vocal is so pretty!”

Praises and compliments were in the air, all eyes on them as flashes of photographs were takes and only got it to stop the paparazzi’s to picture the boys is to block their view.

Venti, the main vocalist and main star attraction of the band.

Xiao, the drummer and fans favorite “cold prince.”

Kazuha, the bass guitarist. The calm and collected guy, who sets everyone’s needs and helps the groups rehearsals.

Aether, who plays the electric keyboard—he was also the main attraction of the band because of his gold long-braided hair. Just like Kazuha, he puts everyone’s needs and the “leader” of the group.

Heizou, the guitarist or ‘rhythm guitarist’ who provides the rhythmic pulse along the bass and drum. He’s playful and has a knack on charming his fans, he was described that he’s sweet and has a soothing voice.

And lastly, we have him.

Scaramouche, or Scara for short. The eldest son of the Raidens—wealthy, cunning, blunt, cocky, prideful, and the lead electric guitarist of the band. There was an… issue about his behavior a few years back, the issue died down and well. His mistakes were now covered up.

The six walk each by their side and chatted as some fans yelp and tried to get their attention, their bodyguards were preventing them from crashing themselves to either of the idols.

“God, this school is so suffocating.” The boy with dark purple hair complained, picking his ear to drown the noise of the fans.

“For you it is, but for all I know—we’ve got ourselves some club room reserved, we could rehearse there every after classes.” Venti spoke with enthusiasm, waving at the fans as they walk pass them.

“Aren’t they lovely?” Kazuha smiled, giving a fan an autograph as he spoke to the group with the same calm and soothing voice.

“lovely? More like a nuisance.” Scara rolled his eyes, annoyed by the same squeals and cheer whenever fans sees them—even if they just breath they’ll automatically say something idiotic, which he finds entertaining and laughable.

“Scara, watch that attitude. You’ll cause an issue again.” Aether warned and sigh, handing the paper and pen to the fan after giving his autograph to them. The boy with dark purple hair only rolled his eyes and click his tongue.

“How about we get our dorm room and key,” Xiao suggested, his voice hoarse and husky but when he speaks—it was flat and lacks emotion. Heizou second his suggestion.

They got their dorm number and keys.

“Me and Heizou are in a same room.” Kazuha shared and pocket his key, “hell, yeah..!” said Heizou, requesting a light high-five with Kazuha.

Aether nodded and check his list, “Ok, so. I’m with my sister, Heizou with Kazuha. Venti with Xiao…” he flips the paper back ‘n forth, “that leaves…” all eyes were on him.

“Scara. Separate room with someone.” Aether mutter low, but still heard, the dark purple haired boy scoff and groan.

“Of course,” he rolled his eyes, “I’m paired with a stranger. Great.” His tone filled with sarcasm and irritation, “so uhm. Whoever they are, please be nice to them? Have some remorse and don’t cause a scene like last time.” Aether let out a sigh with his parted lips, still letting out a small faint smile and tap his lead guitarists shoulder.

“whatever.”

“So, let’s all go to our room and call it a day? We still have packing to do.” Kazuha propose, “Me and Kazuha will go first.” Followed by Heizou as he tug the bassist away.

Aether wave them goodbye, Xiao nodded at them and left with Venti—which leaves him and Scara. The boy with golden braids cross his arms and let out a long sigh, “be good, ok?” he said and gave him direction on where his dorm is before leaving him last.

As he walk through the hallway, less crowds and few people murmuring; which he can clearly hear. He puts his earphones on, muffling the voices of the outside world as he make his way to the staircase. Getting lost in his own world, his earphone playing their band music. Something soothing and relaxing rather than the usual metal music they make.

Facing the door, he look down to see his dorm number to check if he’s in the right spot. Dorm 809; both his key and dorm plate sign has the same number.

Turning the knob, pushing the door open—his bag thud when he saw who’s his roommate is.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

დ➳დ➳დ↴

Setting up your easel in your desk, on your side of the bed. Finally finish unpacking and setting up your drawing on your bedside wall, organizing every pen and sketch pad inside the desk drawers and setting up your markers storage to store them in.

A heavy thud was heard from behind, a husky and hoarse voice spoke behind you.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” The male curse which surprises you, it was one hell of a greeting, a rude way to welcome your roomie don’t it?

You turn and met him eye to eye, his face filled with annoyances and disgust—as if he saw the most disgusting creature he laid eyes upon.

You could only tug a small smile from your lips and a small wave, you recognize him, of course you do! Scaramouche Raiden, the eldest son of the Raidens. The dickhead, asshole, bastard, a cocky hell of a guy.

He scoff, the side of his lip pulled up—rubbing it on your face how disgust he is to lay his eyes upon to someone not worthy sharing a room with him. “Of course, they’re going to pair me with a fucking girl.” He mutter, took his bags again and threw it on his side of the bed.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He clicks his tongue, and unpacks his things with anger and irritation. You could only stare and stand there, frozen like a statue, not knowing what to say or to do. When you are fucking paired with an asshole.

He first set his guitar on the side, took a pin or it’s just something sharp, you can’t tell. He punctured a fuckin’ hole in the fucking wall, what the fuck? You stare blankly, brows furrow together as if you too—silently judging him on what the fuck is he doing.

He then, took out his electric guitar; it was classy and aesthetically pleasing to the naked eye. Lavender and white colored, rounded corners, and his printed name and signature visible and readable even from a few distance.

The boy turn and face you with a raised brow, “name?” he asked, his tone flat and commanding.

“Pardon?”

“Are you stupid or just plain deaf?” his tone change to annoyances and irritation, his brow furrowing like yours—short-tempered, just like his height.

You tense a little, cleared your throat and maintain a small friendly smile as you told your name, his facial relaxing as he held his hand to offer a handshake. At least he still has some manners left in him.

Having second thoughts, hesitating whether to shake his hand. As if he deserves it, right? You shook his hand with yours, “Scara. Scaramouche Raiden.” He quickly removed his hand away from yours.

Then took a hand sanitizer and sanitize his hand, as if you were some kind of bacteria.

“You’re being rude, you know?” you grunt and scoff at him, “so what, princess? As if you’re the same level as me.” Scara bark back and scoffs, seeing you fold your arms against your chest with a frown on your face.

“You think highly of yourself, mister.” Emphasizing the word as if it was an insult. He scoffs and grin, stepping forward to you, “And what can you do about it, princess? Teach me a lesson or something? Fix me, change me?” he emphasized and mocks you, despite him being the average height, you too, were also short. Hell, even shorter than him, god damn it!

“That’s right.” He licks his upper teeth, showing off his ‘attractiveness’ as he lean down—meeting your eye level. “Shortie going to throw a mini tantrum?” he provokes, his finger pressing to your forehead as he gives it a few light and heavy taps before flicking it.

“God damn— Fuck you!”

“I’d like to see you try, princess.” You scoff at his word, pure disgust planted in your face. “Ew?” you gag and rolled your eyes, “That’s what your doctors first impression about you when your mom gave birth to you.” God damn this bitch has no remorse.

You could only frown as you can’t think of a comeback, you watch as he turns his back on you and continue unpacking his things sloppy and untidy. It looks like he’s in a rush, his smartwatch ding a notification. Fixing his posture, shifting his weight to his left and read the message.

You also received a notification message, it read; “Hey, I’m outside your school gate. Come meet me when you’re already free ;) XOXO”

A wide smile spread across your face after your read the message and stared at it for a few moment, “I’m out, going to rehearse.” Scara announced and took his electric guitar, “I’m going to enjoy toying with you, princess.” He added before leaving, a laugh got out from his lips, menacing and evil.

You roll your eyes and shrug your shoulders on what he said, toying with you? As if. You wouldn’t let yourself get bullied, no ma’am. You only set your mind on one thing.

Finally meeting your long distance boyfriend for the first time.

Last year you two only got a chance to meet up once, but now? Maybe every after school, you get to meet him outside the school gate. His school is only a few blocks away from yours, and his house is an easy walk too as his school and house were only near.

You hurry yourself and rushes to the school gate, panting and slightly sweating as you face him, “you okay?” he sweetly asked, god his voice was mellifluous.

You nodded in response and regain your composure, being all shy all of a sudden and not knowing what to say. You start to break the silence, “You come here often?”

He replied, “Yeah, I had a friend here. We always chat after his practice and hang out at a nearby café.”

Both of you continued talking, wasting hours sharing each others stories and how you aren’t familiar to most places here and how he share his experience here as well. Lost in both of your worlds, the outside world and back ground chattering began to muffle as you both lost in time and in each others presence.

Until it’s time to say each others goodbye, and tomorrow will be the first day your art class will start. You should probably draw something to present tomorrow, right?

დ➳დ➳დ↴

The door swung open, the cool breeze greeted him as if to welcome him in.

“There he is!” Venti playfully exclaimed, Aether then clasp his hand together, “6reeze, let’s all assemble and have our meeting finish and rehearse after.”

Seems like he’s the last one to enter the club room, Scara sat to a nearby window. Xiao leaning on the table then soon sat down on top of it, the boy with two braids; Venti, sat down to a chair—followed by Heizou and Kazuha.

The meeting starts like any other normal club, preparing each activities, what album nor music can they release next or maybe try something different than metal music.

But of course, this was just like any other “nonsense” meeting to him, as Scara sat by the window and listen to their leaders chattering, his gaze caught a glimpse of something outside—down there, as he fully took his gaze off of Aether and look down at the window.

“well, well. Look who we have here.” The dark purple haired boy grins at the sight, of you with your boyfriend, the view was very, very clear too.

“Ahem, Teyvat to Scara?” Aether called out as the lead guitarist, who’s been busy watching from afar. His gaze returned to the boy with golden hair, “mhm?” the lead guitarist raised an eyebrow. “Rehearsal today, does that sound good to you?”

“As in, now?”

“Yeah,” Aether nodded to his question, placing down the paper he has in his hand before going to his keyboard, “whenever all of you are ready.”

Scara took another quick glimpse, seeing how you and your lovely significant other bid farewell. He scoff and let out a chuckle, “this is going to be fun.” He mutter to himself, “what was that?” Xiao asked, seems like he heard what the lead guitarist said, “nothing.” The lead guitarist dismissed.

Little did he know, that Xiao caught a glimpse of the two of you too—how you and that other person touch and bid goodbye.

The two didn’t say anything, instead they got into their position—their respective stand as their music blast the room.

The lead guitarist couldn’t take his mind off of you and your significant other. How did he knew? Because no friend looks and touch that way. It’s pretty darn obvious to him.

Which it’ll be fun and entertaining for him.

The rehearsal finish at five sharp. The band bid their goodbyes and goes on their separate ways. Scara walks to the same hall and staircase to get to his dorm while looking down to his phone and checking for any messages or tea he could read.

Facing the door and turning the knob, he saw you sitting and working on your drawing, “Well, if it isn’t miss artist.” He starts and you ignored his remark.

“Why the cold shoulders?”

“I’m working something here, can’t you see or are you just blind?” you bark to him, he click his tongue and flop down to his side of bed. “What did your boyfriend left you a bad taste or something?” you froze in place, pencil down and your heart race.

“What?” he raised a brow, his hands on the back of his head as he relax in his bed. “You think I didn’t see you two being all lovely-dove? You know that some club rooms are close to the school gate,” he chuckle in the middle of his sentences then continues, “for all I know, not even a friend can look at someone like that.”

“And your point?” you asked as you held your breath, not knowing why. Why is he being a pest at your love life.

“He looks like he doesn’t belong here, comes from another college school correct?” you nodded at his question, not knowing why you answered to him truthfully. “He could be cheating on you, you know.” He grins.

You could only scoff at his accusations, “excuse you.” You stood up and goes up to his side of the room, “My boyfriend would never ever cheat on me. I trust him.”

“That trust blinds you,” he sat up and lean back to the head board of the bed, “seeing is better than believing.” He added and laughs, he truly enjoys toying you like this.

You were silent, dark thoughts crawling in your mind—what ifs and possible scenarios coming together, what if he’s right? You and your lover only saw each other once last year, what if your lover thinks your ugly and having a long distance relationship excuse him for cheating?

Your breathing becomes rapid, panic setting in and fear visible to your eyes, “but you know, I could be wrong though.” Scara laughed, he loves that face you made; terrified, anxiousness, doubt and fear settled in your face. He enjoys your reactions to his make-believe and evil remarks.

“God damn it, you are the worst roommate that anyone could ask for.” You hiss, took his pillow and harshly threw it at him, he could only laugh at your reaction—enjoying that his roommate is a softie and someone he could enjoy pestering.

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Don’t be a pussy and fuck me yourself.” He grins, waiting for your comeback with his flirty remark.

You got to your bed and threw your mini octopus plushy at him, it’s expression ‘angry’ as you were hinting that you are mad at him. “Thanks,” he waves your lavender and black inside-out plush, “for safe keeping.” He laughs and it looks like that plush is now his.

How the tables have turned.

დ➳დ➳დ↴

The next morning, in class, you put up your drawing—clipping it to your easel as you stood beside it. You saw other students creation, beautiful, detailed, realistic, imaginary. Their creativity are something else, and you felt you couldn’t match that.

You stand firmly as your art professor walks in, eyeing every each one of the artworks and their artists, he spoke; “There are rules of art, some find techniques and master it. But, today.” His voice deep and husky. “Let us set those rules aside, and want you guys to draw from the very core of your soul.” He added.

Students looks at him confuse, he then continued, his tone hinting playfulness and in a joking tone. “Well, to understand, can someone held their painting up and tear it?” he asked, then chuckle as he saw no one tear up their painti—

Rip.

Gasp from the students were heard, all eyes were on you—tearing up the drawing you did last night. Shock, from the male professors face, he steps forward to you, “y/n.” he called, “I was just joking, why would you tear up a beautiful drawing like that?” he asked, stress can be heard in his tone of voice.

He let out a sigh from his lips and still spread a smile, “Care to tear it once more?” you obliged to his request and tear it once more, “now, that wasn’t so hard. Wasn’t it?” he smiled and patted your head, you were praise by your art professor but he was a bit stress when you took his silly joke too literally.

“Let me introduce myself again, I am Zhongli. I’ll be your art professor fro this semester, so everybody grab their pencil and present something from your hearts content.”

Professor Zhongli was a professional in arts and ancient history of arts, he’s also a gentleman and a total opposite of him. He’s tall, has fair skin tone, amber-eyes with yellow diamond shaped pupils and red eyeliner on the lower lids of his eyes. His hair dark brown with a longer fringe on the right side of his face, he also has a rattail at the back. Then a golden brown tip that seems to glow a little, it’s eye-catchy and sometimes distracting when he turns his back and teaches.

The bell rang and class was dismissed, you made your way to the campus ground to find some inspiration, headphones in, blasting soft lo-fi music.

You stop your tracks when you saw one of the band members of 6reeze; Xiao, talking to professor Zhongli. Xiao also caught you standing there, he didn’t say anything and just wave at you. You wave back and gave him a smile, then a hand stop you.

“There you are..!” it’s a females voice, sounds like she’s been in a run to come and find you. You turned and face her, “oh hey, Kylie.” You greeted.

Kylie, your internet friend that you have finally met thanks to her attending to the same school as you.

“So..” she’s still catching her breath, she sure made a run for it. “w-… Where you heading?” she asked, taking a couple of deep breaths as her chest finally relax and so do her breathing.

“somewhere less crowded to take air and maybe find some inspiration for my next drawing,” you replied with a smile, she tagged along and clung to your left arm as the two of you walk out. You both talk about how different your major to hers, and ranted how you have an asshole of a roommate.

“ok, ok.” Kylie started and munch on her muffin, “you tore your drawing apart?” she asked again, to make sure for good measures. You nodded in response, letting your headphones rest on your neck as you doodle something in your sketchpad.

The both of you were sitting in the grass, you admiring the greenery of the school and sketching random trees. And your friend… munching and sharing her days how she missed you, and how she’s happy finally meeting you face to face. “You know there’s a café nearby here, let’s go there sometime.” She suggested, “my treat!” she added with enthusiasm hinted in her voice.

“By the way,” she leaned in and rest her head to your shoulder, clinging to your arm again as if you are her lover. “That roommate of yours, if I was in your shoe; I would’ve demand the principal to switch me a roommate.” She huffs, “guess who’ll I rather have a roommate?” Kylie asked with a grin.

“Nah. I already knew who.” You grinned.

“Tell me.”

“Xiao.”

The girl made a squeal, hugging your arm tight and kicking her feet as she goes on rambling on how ‘delusional’ she is for Xiao.

Then someone harshly bumped next to you two as they pass by.

“Hey, watch it, dickhead!” your friend curses at a certain boy and she gave him the middle finger. And of course, it was Scara.

“Get it? Dickhead?” your friend silently giggles, “because his haircut looks like a shape of a dick no? Not funny at all?” she made an ‘aww’ sound and purse her lips to you.

The boy with golden long braids yell, “Sorry!” from the distance, you took a glance at their direction and wave at them and gave them a thumbs up, saying it’s ok.

You felt another persons presence behind you, looking up to see Xiao towering over the two of you, his expression unreadable and his tone flat. “I apologize on our lead guitarist behalf.” He said and gave a slight bow to show that he’s genuine and respectful.

You can feel Kylies silent squealing as you stood up and she followed, “I’m Xiao, you probably already knew that but I rather keep it like this.” Xiao offer a hand to shake, you took it and said your name to him—he smiled. “And she is?” he points to your friend, before you could speak, she took Xiao’s hand to shake. You can almost sense she was trembling, “Kylie! I’m her friend.” She nervously shook his hand before Xiao removed his from her trembling hand, he nodded at her and turn to you again.

“Here, have a cupcake. Accept these for an apology for Scara’s behavior. Truly sorry for that.” His tone change to something genuine, as in he’s truly expressing how sorry he is for their lead guitarist behavior.

You and Kylie took a cupcake, “Thank you.” You smiled at him, “Is he also your roommate?” Xiao asked, you nodded. “I see, please don’t hesitate to tell us his reckless behavior nor is he bothering you and kept pestering you. We’ll deal with him.” And with that, the boy left to return to his band group.

“Good thing you didn’t embarrassed yourself.” You remark as you ate the cupcake Xiao gave to the two of you, “Good thing I didn’t said something stupid.” Kylie let out a huff and laughs.

“oh shit!” Kylie curse, munching her cupcake almost as if she’s eating it all in one bite, as she spoke—you couldn’t understand her when her mouth is fucking full. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, idiot.” You sigh, curious on why she’s in a panic.

She swallowed and hiccup, took your tumbler to drink some of your water. “Y-You..” she needs to catch her breathing first, “You have a boyfriend, right? Here? From another school and only a few blocks away?” questions over question was thrown at you, you could only nodded and watch her rummage through her phone.

Anxiety sets in, you don’t know what’s happening but you could feel your heart race. “When you haven’t arrived here yet,” Kylie starts, “I thought your boyfriend was a familiar lad, but he was the same person I saw a few weeks ago.”

A few weeks ago, before you got here?

Kylie showed you a bunch of photos, not edited, not Photoshop, it was legitimately real. You saw your lover in the picture, a girl clinging to his arm, the picture was a little blurry but you could tell that it was him. “here, I even filmed them to ask you if it’s your lover or it’s a different person.”

“no, no. That’s him alright.” You quickly replied, not even a second thought held on that. You took her phone and held it in your hand, you click play and watch the whole video.

The video shows you, your lover and the girl—the camera zooming in on them. You can’t hear what they’re saying but you are sure that the bastard in the video was your boyfriend. The fucking audacity, the girl was clinging into his arm and kissing his cheek—making you want to barf and vomit the cupcake you’re eating right now.

The video ended, it was only ten seconds long but you are sure that his predicament were right. “I have to go.” You told your friend as you finish eating your cupcake, putting away your sketchpad and pencils in your tote bag and bid goodbye to Kylie.

You heard her yell out, “Text me, ok!?” you gave her a thumbs up, noting that you’ll surely text her.

Tears were forming in your eyes, you tried holding them back but a tear fell from your cheek. You wall to the hallway, some people noticed you as you made a run for it—running away from them and running up the staircase to get to your shared dorm room with him.

დ➳დ➳დ↴

Scara was on his desk, in his side of the room as he compose his part of the music they’re now currently working on. Headsets on to have the outside world muffled as tunes and relaxing music sets in—as he strum his finger against his electric guitar, if he finds the tune more fitting—he then will write it down, hence and repeat.

Bursting in your shared room was not something he expect, “Holy shit—” he cursed, headset almost fell to the floor and having his phone open and had his band on a video call. You startled him as he made a sound of relief from his lips, “holy shit, you could have at least knocked first.”

You ignored his remark, instead—you sat down to the edge of your bed, blankly staring down at the floor. He can see how your eyes were red and swollen, Venti's voice spoke to his headphone as it was on Bluetooth connected.

“Something wrong?” The vocalist asked Scara, the lead guitarist could only stare and watch you like a statue, you wouldn’t even budge or flinch.

He raised a finger to his phone and placed down his headset to his desk, “hey.” He called, but you ignored, “Teyvat to y/n?” he snaps his finger to get your attention.

Scara can hear whispers from his headset, he glared at his phone and sigh—he then stood up from his seat and walk towards to you, knelt down on one knee to meet your eye to his, “Teyvat to y/n.” he repeated, “your eyes are red,” he then stood up to squat as he took your chin to his fingertips, “look, I know something happened. Did I made you cry about something? Did I hit you and your friends shoulders too hard?” he threw questions at you, but his voice weren’t the same stern and irritating tone but rather low and soft as if he’s trying his best to understand you.

“You good?” he asked again, tears then started to rain from your cheeks again. “S-Shit. Look, princess. I d-did not want to make you cry, I-I’m sorry, o-ok?” he stammer, panic sets in him. He didn’t know why you were crying, but all he knew that he did not like it.

His Bluetooth suddenly got disconnected from his headset as voices of his band sets in the room, “Making a girl cry? Not cool, Scara.” “oh dear, what did you do?” “apologizing to her won’t do, beg for forgiveness. On your knees.” “Yeah, your mom wouldn’t like this. Can you stop her from crying and give comfort at least?”

“Could all of you shut the fuck up?” He snaps at his band members through the phone, “look, I suck at this. What happened? Tell me and stop crying.” He demands in a softest way possible, but it is still a demand.

You couldn’t form your words, couldn’t even form a sentence and you don’t know where to start. He can only make out a few sentences and words, but all he could make sense is that ‘his predicament were right.’

“So, you mean I was right, all along?” He confirms, you could only nod and weep. Scara slowly nods and turn his head to look at his band, they only gave him a peace sign and tell him, “you fucked up.” And hang up.

Scara let out a frustrated scoff and messes his hair up, then look down on you—still weeping and sniffling, trying to stop your tears.

It was a minute of silence, only the fan and your breaths were heard, he starts; “Look, I’m sorry. I was just joking, I didn’t mean it to be real, ok?” he apologized and scoot over next to you, his legs spread and his elbow resting to either of his thighs as he clasp his hands together and look at you.

You could only weep in response, not having the energy to say a word. He even got the most comfortable blanket wrapped around your shoulder as if he’s covering your whole body up, acting like you had a strong cold. “Ok, ok. Who’s this bastard again?” he asked and you didn’t give two shits about your cheater boyfriend no more and gave away his name.

“Ok, so the next time you meet him at the school gate. Bring me along.” He remarked and put his arm around you and placed you down to his lap, “comfortable?” he asked, you nodded as your eyes were red and swollen and eyelids were heavy.

“noted.” You manage to utter before fully shutting your eyes and feeling his embrace around you while in the most soft and comforting blanket. “alright, get some rest.” He sigh and had you cradle in his arms tonight.

A bit odd on how you find comfort in his touch, his presence, and even his voice as he starts to sing you lullaby to help you sleep faster. As if his mellifluous tone uttering the lyrics was too good not to hear nor miss. Deep within, you wish you could hear him sing you another time, as you seek comfort in both of his voice, and presence.

დ➳დ➳დ↴

Strangely enough, you found yourself being in your roommates arms frequently. As if you’re seeking his presence and warmth against yours and even taking it far from borrowing one of his oversize hoodies and wear it as if it’s your own.

“what the fuck are you wearing?” Scara asked with a drink in his hand, as he points to the hoodie you’re wearing, “it’s that mine?”

“No, it’s now mine.” You snuggle and hug the hoodie you’re wearing close to your body, “it’s comfy.” You added and pulled the hood up.

“whatever.” He rolled his eyes and drank his can drink.

What’s more strange that he didn’t mind it, he didn’t mind that you’re being all too clingy to the point you find yourself waiting outside his club room to wait for their rehearsal to finish and drag him away because he “promise” to take you out as is it’s his treat. Even your own friend thought you’re being odd now.

“Hey girly!” Kylie greeted, waving and hopping towards you to greet you with a hug too. You could only hug back and greet with a happy hum, the girl then look at you then at the club room door. “Why are you being a by stander here all of a sudden?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

You didn’t answer, you only lay your head low and look at the ground while humming their songs, Kylie sigh and hangs out with you, standing for hours.

Then the boys finished, Scara slide the door open and steps out—only to glance down at you when he steps out, “What the fuck?” he cursed, you stopped your friend from saying a word and pulled Scara away.

Away from his band members, away from your friend and away from the crowd.

“Looks like they’ve grown close.” Xiao remarked, his presence only behind to Kylie, “yeah. Too close.” She frowns and sigh.

“Want to hang out with us?” Xiao asked the girl, the other members greeting her with a smile and filling the atmosphere with laugher and joy, “sure!”

So odd, that your friend, and his friends also suspect that something fishy is going on.

Venti cleared his throat as he sat on top of the table while Scara brush off some dust of his guitar, “so.” The main vocal starts, breaking the silence.

“You’re good at math right?”

“What about it?”

Venti enthusiastically grins and chuckle at your response, “Formally speaking; may I require your assistance in a simple math problem? I find your arithmetic intelligence quite intriguing my friend.”

“If it’s a simple math problem then go solve it yourself.”

“come on! It’s only one..” Venti frowns and whines at him, Scara could only roll his eyes and wave his hand to gesture, ‘ask away.’

Venti smiled and tap the table, “I shall provide you two-variable equation, my friend! You plus your adorbs roomie equals?”

“You seriously asking this bullshit?”

“Yes.”

“Cannot be.”

“Ouch?” Venti dramatically groan to the pain and fake a sob, “Oh how cruel of you! To have such an adorable roommate like that, it’s impossible to have the answer; cannot be!”

Funny enough, Kylie also asked you the same thing and you answered the same. But with a hint of doubt in your answer.

You have always seek his presence, warmth and mellifluous voice every chance you get. You were getting too comfortable with him to the point where you both share the same bed even though this dormitory has two bedroom for a reason. You find yourself in his bed or him in your bed.

Having a nightmare? Scared of the loud roar of thunders? Can’t sleep? Feeling uneasy? You will and always will find yourself standing up from your bed and going to his, snuggling close as if he’s your teddy bear or you his little bear.

“Why are you here again?” Scara asked, his tone tired and sleepy as he rub his eyes.

“I can’t sleep, I had a nightmare.” Scara clicked his tongue to your response as he groan, pulling you close to his chest and pressing his chin at the top of your head, “there. Now go to sleep.” he grumbled and pulled your body close to his.

This would happen every often, then before you know it. It’s now a normal routine for the both of you, hell even every morning there will be hugs and kisses for a way to greet good morning.

And little by little, day by day and even weeks had pass, little feelings began to crawl in. Pushing in their way to develop the chemistry between the music and art students.

But hey, it wasn’t so bad after all.

დ➳დ➳დ↴

How long has it been the moment you and him finally settle to your lifestyle like this? Three months? Or less than that?

You were rummaging in your drawer, looking for available comfy clothes but you can’t see one. You stood up and go over to Scara’s side and rummage through his things, “Really?” he scoff and squint his eyes to you.

You stick your tongue out and took his oversize hoodie, again. And wore it to your liking, it was pass your knees and you’re wearing a cat high-knee socks. It compliments the look.

Scara could only roll his eyes and lean back to his seat, you walk up to him and casually sat down to his lap—giving all your weigh to him and snuggling close to his warmth, “bitch.”

“you’re a bitch too.” You barked back and pinch his side as he jolt and flinch at the pain, “god damn it.”

You smile and kick your feet up as your phone dings a notification, Scara took it and read it with you as his hand were supporting your rear while you’re on his lap. The message read; “Hey, it’s been 3 months since the last time we met. Want to hang out today? Come meet me at your school gate ;) XOXO”

“Ew?” Scara scoff and place your phone down to his desk and spun around with his chair, moving around as if he’s giving you a mini roller-coaster ride.

“I have to meet him.” You remark.

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Nah.”

You frown at his response and tries to kick your feet to move the chair back to his desk, “Nah uh.” He said, “Yah uh.” You responded, “You’re here with me, in my arms, in my embrace. So no.”

He push himself back and took your phone in his arm, “lay your head to my neck, I have an idea to have you avoiding that piece of shit.” You followed what he said and snuggle yourself close to him, your face covering up to his neck as he snap a picture—us his two hands to send and type; “Sorry, this little brat of a princess is busy cuddling with me. Also, not making an effort nor show yourself inside those 3 months, seriously? What kind of a dickhead of a boyfriend are you? Plus, I heard you cheated on this poor little brat, thanks for that. I’ll be taking over, and also. You look like a fucking pig that has been abandoned by your owner and was never loved by your mother, so that’s why you treat your partner like shit and took advantage of the long distance relationship so you could cheat. Disgusting imbecile.”

“What did you send to him?”

“None of your business.” He answered and stood up, cradling you in his arm as he lay your back against the soft fabric of the bed and puts all of his weight on top of you.

“Don’t worry, he won’t bother you no more and, I broke up with him for your behalf.” He informed and drown himself to your scent and chest. “small tits.” He remarked.

“says the one who has a small dick.”

“You haven’t even seen my size yet, princess.” He grins and pulled himself up and cage you in his bed. He leaned in and whisper into your ear, “want to me to make you my little slut in broad daylight?”

დ➳დ➳დ↴

You didn’t know how it happened, it just did.

You were in his lap, legs spread wide open, you mewling over and breathing softly as you felt your heart race. His fingers in between your folds, motioning in circle to tease your aching hole. He whispers degrading words next to your ear as he finally plunged in his middle finger in.

His left arm around your back, holding you close and supporting you so you wouldn’t fall over, this his hand around your side to held your tummy, strumming like it’s the string of his guitar. You were confuse but you could only mewl and let out a gasp when he began scissoring his fingers inside you—you didn’t even felt a second finger entering.

“There we go, such a needy hole you have.” He scoff and god, he’s spreading your tight walls so good. You arch your back and whimper at him, biting on to the fabric of his hoodie that you’re wearing. Your cunt clench around his fingers, he can feel it pulse and twitch, “You want more? What a whore.”

And there, inserting a third finger—you gasp and held on to his chest and thigh, panting and mewling as you tried to move your hips away from his fingers subconsciously. He plunges in and stayed still, “Stop moving, bitch.” He hiss and harshly thrust his fingers, spreading you out.

“Let me teach you how to play a guitar, hm?” he spoke next to your ear and starts to separate his fingers and pressing pressure inside of you, stretching you even more. You moan and gave shuddered breaths, tears forming in your eyes as you look up at him with those beautiful glassy half-lidded stare, begging him to do more.

“Feel this, this is E major and this is E minor.” He spread his fingers and pressed pressure inside your cunt, he felt it clench around his fingers—your back arching and you almost crying your moans on how it’s becoming too much and how you felt something warm inside your stomach.

“No, no. You’re not going to cum just yet, I haven’t finish teaching you all the basic chords.” He murmur, his brows furrow together and a sinister grin can be seen across his face. “I c-can’t help, ‘m going to c-cum..” you mutter, his fingers retreating and you mewl at the sudden emptiness as he snaps his three fingers back in.

Your eyes widen as tears rolled down from your cheeks and you muffled your scream as you felt your release, “Oh, I didn’t know you squirt.” Scara almost laugh at the sight, his gaze almost degrading and he looks like he’s plotting something evil.

As you let out broken gasp and trying to calm yourself from you high, you opened your eyes and saw him lay you down from your back—in his bed, as he position himself in between, “Look at the mess you’ve created in my bed,” he sigh and pulled you by your hip, pressing his hard length against your soaked cunt. “Such a needy slut, you don’t mind me using your hole as a toy for now, right?”

Your manage to frown at him, watching him pulling down his sweatpants and letting his length sprung free, his tip almost hitting his belly button and he sure is thick.

You mewl as he rub himself against your wet cunt, brushing his tip against your folds and pressing his slit to your clit—resulting him to hiss. God you’re sure he won’t be gentle with you.

He grabbed your thighs and motion you to wrap your legs around him as he press his tip to your entrance, “You’re loose enough, you can take me in one swift motion.” And with that, you felt like you’re being stretch apart by something thick when he thrust and bottom himself out to your cervix.

“God, fuck. Taking me well with this tight cunt you whore.” He hiss with a laugh, “oh, fuck so tight.” He moan as he pulls back and plunge himself deeper again, you almost moan aloud, the only thing that’s muffling you is you biting onto his blanket. Mewling and weeping on how good he’s stretching your cunt with his fat cock, every thrust you’ll shudder and clench around his length.

“Fuck, such a good slut.” He hiss again, finding his preferred pace—taking grasp of your thighs, pushing them back as he spread his legs wider to go much, much deeper.

He growls every thrust he make, he leans and pecks your neck and collarbone with sloppy kisses and bite marks—he couldn’t contain himself, he could not hold back.

You were already crying on how overstimulated you are, but he kept on going and singing either degrading words and praises in your ear. He’s even vocal with his moans, more like on grunts and growls, even his moans and grunts soothing like early birds in the morning.

You try to quiet yourself down to hear more of his mellifluous moans and grunts every time he plunges himself deeper inside you, but fail because on how good he’s fucking you stupid with his length.

Not that long, you felt your second release and squirt yourself in his cock. “That’s right, cum on my cock like a whore you are.” He chuckle and pecks you love bites more, and soon after, he chase his own high as he plunged himself deeper to release his seeds. Abusing your poor cervix.

He rides out most of his seeds, pushing his tip and not letting a drop go to waste before collapsing on top of you, not even thinking of pulling out.

“P-Pull out..” you mewl, “make me.” He replied as he wraps his arms around you and gave a few light thrust to have him hear your sweet melodic moans again.

You didn’t knew you’d even last, he has a really high sex drive and you did not know. He fucks you dumb all day, resulting not attending your classes that day as you beg and mewl for him to stop because you have class and that his band needed him, but he told you they not important right now. What’s important is him breeding out your sweet little cunt, but hey. At least you can hear him grunt and moan right?

დ➳დ➳დ↴

The two of you cuddle in each others arms, his back leaned over the wall and you in the center of his legs that’s been spread apart so you can lay your butt on the softness of the bed cushion. His chin on your shoulder as he taps you by your tummy while being covered in thick blanket, “mhm?” you look up at him with half-lidded eyes, fighting the urge to close them.

“I didn’t make it to your wall?” he raise a brow and pointed at your side of the room—at your wall, where you store up your paintings, “your friend and my band members made up to the wall, why didn’t I?” Scara growls and frowns at you, jealousy creeping in.

You shrug and rest your back to his front, head going to the crook of his neck as you mutter, “dunno.”

“I won’t be paying for your Starbucks.”

“you won’t do that.”

“Oh, yes I will.”

You huff and crawled out of his bed, limping as you walk to your bed and curled up like a ball there. He laughs at the sight as you flip him off with your middle finger and he could only laugh.

The following days were normal and sometimes chaotic whenever you and your friends hang out, your friend and well… Roommate hated each others guts and always yelling each others curses nor making you choose between them here on out. The school first semester almost brought to an year, and till next year—you will meet them again.

The band; 6reeze, had something in planned for all campus before going home to celebrate with their families, they posted their invitation on the school group,—inviting everyone to their performance before years semesters end.

It was crowded and many students cheer and yell as the boys got on stage, they got to their respective position and yell out to all of the students—bringing their attention to the stage, “Me and my friends put up a show before we all got home and reunite with our family, to celebrate the end of the schools semester.” Venti starts, “we hope you love it!”

Music blast and crowds went wild as they sing the song that they already knew, the student sang along and dances within the crowds.

You and your friend were watching them shine in that stage, even though they are already shining but seeing them perform live and in front makes it special. Then a new song kick in, this must be the song he talk about with you.

“Wait, I must go.” You told Kylie, “what? But it was just getting good..” she whines and you made your run with a smile on your face, waving her goodbye to the distance. Well, she can’t stop you doing what you’re going to do, right?

დ➳დ➳დ↴

The performance ended and other students bid their goodbyes as the boys got some time to autograph for some students who asked them.

The lead guitarist look around but no signs of you, must've miss the performance, perhaps? Scara look around and call out to a familiar girl, “Hey!” he yelled and walk up to her, “Where’s y/n?” he asked.

Kylie was talking to Xiao and taking a couples of pictures with him and taking his autograph, she turn to face the lead guitarist, “She was in a hurry, so I didn’t stop her from leaving.”

Scara sighs and nodded at her response, “thanks.” And left off.

Running in a hurry and passing by the same locker room in the same familiar hallway and running up to the same staircase where their shared room is.

Panting and sweating as he burst open through the door, “oh goodness!” you were startled and look at him in disbelief, “why are you in a rush?” You asked as you neatly pack your luggage’s, but what caught Scara’s attention was the big canva portrait that you hang up through the wall. He smiled and scoff.

“Looks like I made it to the wall, huh?”

You laugh and responded, “you sure did.”

The portrait shows the 6reeze members, but what’s eye-catchy about it is where you stand before it when watching the performance play, Scaramouche’s figure is bigger than most of the other members. Catching his figure and focusing on every detail when he plays his electric guitar as you could hear him sing along with his mellifluous voice with the vocalist.

The two of you only look at the painting you did up to the wall, admiring it and talking before leaving it there.

And hence, that’s how the story of an art and music person romances. It was lovely.

Because that was everything.

[neeuqiakeht]

Scaramouche: The world is cold and dark and everyone dies alone.

Y/N: I’m sorry I forgot to kiss you goodbye before i left this morning.

[ashrodisiac]

Scaramouche x Reader

smut - f!dom!reader

KISSMARKS

summary: littering scara's pretty cock with kiss marks<33

Putting on a new shade of pink on your lips, then setting the lipstick down to press a kiss on Scaramouche's flushed cock. The pretty tip's already twitching, leaking with precum. You pull away and admire the marks you had left on him, then looked up at his face. He was looking down, tucking his lower lip beneath his teeth. Heat rose on his face as his eyes met yours, seeing them half-lidded, and your glittering lips curled in a smug smirk.

"Fuck you..." he muttered, turning his head away. You chuckled and reapplied the lipstick, "Bet."

[xiaoscarasimp]

A Small bit of Cat boi Smut

*drops another piece of smut and runs away*

yeah so uh this was a lot of fun there will be a part 2. This was supposed to take a lot more twists and turns but decided to hold off

Minors DNI pls

Cw:(oh lord where do we start?)

Afab!reader, cat girl reader,smut, degradation, praise, pet play, cat boi scara, cat boi lyney, magic, ooc,three some anal, SiZe KiNk

It was a mistake to try and get involved with the weird twink from Fontaine. He told you he'd come home and "cast magic on you and your significant other to help boost the relationship," So how did it end up like this? 

Your cat boy, Scaramouche, had you pinned up against a wall with your arms above your head, eyes heavily lidded, hazed with lust. You, on the other hand, had grown cat ears and tail and where you were normally taller than him, he now was towering over you. He was always strong to begin with, but now with your reduced size, he seemed even stronger. You squirmed trying to escape his grasp, but actually couldn’t.

You could see the magician Lyney in the background laughing at the whole situation, commenting how cute you looked. When asked how he did this or why, the only response he could give was that it “was something you both wanted.”

Scaramouche ran his thumb across your cheek and then across your lips, admiring how cute you had become. His tail coiled itself multiple times around your wrists and while you tried to get free, your tail had other ideas: namely wrapping itself around the catboy's wrist. Your face turned beet red, not understanding why your body was responding the way it was. As the situation stood: you should be scared shitless, but why were you so turned on? Was it fear? Was it because you had a secret degradation fetish?

“I always knew you’d make an excellent cat girl,” Scaramouche says in a husky growl in your now very sensitive ear. His breath sent shivers down your spine, heat pooling in your lower half.  “But smaller than me too? Can’t wait to feel how tight you are now.” He throws you on the bed and then gets on top of you, caging you between his arms. There was absolutely no escape now. 

“Scaramouche, this isn’t right,” you manage to choke out. “It’s that weird magician’s fault. He’s the on-” You felt a hand on your throat, and tail in your mouth, gagging you.

“Don't. Ever. Speak. Of. Another. Man. In. Front. Of. Me.” Scaramouche’s ears press against his head. He has always been the jealous type, but with whatever magic the Fontaine guy had been working on both of you, the jealousness and possessiveness had been amplified. You see Lyney in the background, laughing hysterically, but this time he had given himself cat ears and tail to match you and your cat boy. He smirks at you, saying how hot this all was, but Scaramouche didn’t seem to hear him; he was trapped in his own lust.

Scaramouche starts undressing you, first with his eyes, but then his hands move their way up your smaller body, taking your shirt along with them. It was an easy task since your clothes hadn’t shrunk along with you; everything was loose on you, a few sizes too big. You press your thighs together, trying to not let him take off your pants, but they were already halfway around your knees. Despite the fact you moan “no, don’t do this,” you can’t deny you’re very turned on by all of this. 

Lyney comes up behind Scaramouche, and whispers something in his ears, causing a wicked grin to appear on his face. The bluenette cat boy then slides your panties off, commenting how pretty your pussy was and how he wanted to ravage it immediately. You weren’t that much smaller than normal, but still worried if you could take him at your current size, because while the cat boy wasn’t huge by any means, he wasn’t exactly small either.

Scaramouche undresses himself, starting with taking his overshirt off slowly, revealing a black skin tight shirt that makes him look absolutely divine. He then slid down his shorts, revealing boxers already wet with pre cum. He was just so excited to ravage a pretty little cat girl. A pretty little cat girl, made just for him. 

He buries his face in your sex, moaning that it tastes sweeter than normal, but what really surprises you is that Lyney comes around and runs his hands up and down your body, pinching your erect nipples. Your tail thrashes from all the over stimulation, wanting more and for it to stop at the same time. Scaramouche swats Lyney’s hands away from your body, scowling at the audacity of the magician to touch his beloved property. 

“You’re not allowed to touch her until I’m done with her pussy,” Scaramouche growls. Lyney smirks, then comes around the cat boy, running his hands up and down his body this time, touches feather light, pinching his nipples gently causing the already horny cat boy to moan and become impossibly more erect. Scaramouche positions himself upright on the bed and pulls you up on his lap, kissing  and biting your collarbone, hands still savoring your body. 

“You said I couldn’t touch her, but you never said I couldn’t touch you,” Lyney says seductively, kissing the tattoo on the back of Scaramouche’s neck. His hands moved down to stroke the base of bluenette’s tail, causing his weeping member to thrust itself between your legs, causing you to gasp in pleasure. 

"Oh, gods, I want to be in your tight little pussy," Scaramouche moans,thrusting between your legs, catching a bit more of your slick with each thrust. "Since you're a cat girl now, meow for me."

"Nyaa~" As you do a traditional cat girl pose, you can feel whatever dignity you had left dying. That was enough to get Scaramouche to start kissing you roughly, tongues battling it out in your mouth. Lyney’s hands move from stroking Scaramouche’s tail to slightly pulling on your tail, causing you to moan in your lover's mouth. 

"Such a pretty little pet for me," your cat boy admires your neediness. "You know what a good pet needs? A collar, claiming that you are mine." At this point, Lyney conjures up a collar with a tag that says "Property of Scaramouche Balladeer the Sixth," and buckles it securely around your neck. 

"Look what a good pet she is for you," Lyney cooed in Scaramouche’s ear. "Oh, how the tables have turned. The master becomes the pet." 

You scowl at the two of them laughing at you. The magician’s eyes were ravenging you, wondering what acts he could convince your cat boy to do next. He had his own ideas swirling around in his head, and was wondering if your partner had any of the same ideas. 

Scaramouche was still thrusting between your legs, the tip threatening to slip in. You were getting extremely turned on by this, wanting his cock inside you more and more with every thrust. He could pick up on this feeling, and quite honestly he felt the same. 

However! He also wanted to hear you beg. Normally, you were in charge, but this time, this time he had a small cat girl sitting on his lap, moaning with every thrust between her legs. 

"You want me, don't you?" He moans through kissing. "I'll give it to you if you beg." You can see Lyney smiling, egging you on as he pulls your hair, stimulating you even further. As you attempt to use the thrusting motion as means to try and alleviate the growing heat pool in your abdomen, Scaramouche just stops.

"Ah ah ah," He tuts. "You don't get off with out me, and you don't get me unless you beg." 

"Please," you pitch your voice a bit higher than normal, swallowing your pride. "Please

 I n-need you to help me." The mix of juices between your legs was electrifying. What ever magic the Fontaine man had cast made stimulation even better than normal.

"Good girl." He allows you to lift yourself up and insert his cock into your needy hole. "Aanh~. You were tight before, but this is a whole 'nother level. Such a tiny cat girl pussy, made just for me."

As you slide down his length, you couldn't help but to feel fuller than normal, your walls clenching his cock more vigorously than usual. He's not small by any means, but with your reduced size, it felt like it was going to stretch you out, to break you.

 Scaramouche allows you to bottom out and adjust to his size before thrusting, causing you to cum almost immediately. 

"Such a good little whore you are," He purrs in your ear. "Cumming from insertion alone? You must have really needed it, didn-" You yank his head down and start kissing him passionately again. Reduced size or not, you didn’t have to pull very hard to make him come down to devour your lips. 

“I still haven’t gotten my high yet, so just bear with me darling,” He manages to rasp. “I can almost see where my dick is inside you. You’re taking it like a good little whore. Just for me: a good little whore just for me.”  As he thrusts deep inside you, he swears he can see a slight bulge in your stomach from where his dick was kissing your womb.

“F-fuckk,” Scaramouche groans and releases his load, pulling your hair right behind your cat ears, and painting your insides creamy white. Although he had just cum, he was still impossibly hard. Lyney murmurs something in your partner’s ear once more, and you start to feel a bit worried. Whatever the two cat boys were discussing could never be good, especially when Scaramouche smiled like a wicked cheshire cat.

You start to feel an icy hot feeling, cooling but burning at the same time and Scaramouche’s cock was expanding your insides. How was it possible to get even bigger after cumming? 

No. Wait. Lyney shrunk you. Again. 

“Oh, wow,” Scaramouche gasps, eyes even more hazed with lust. “An even tinier cat girl to fuck senseless. If I wasn’t fucking your womb before, I surely am now.” His hand cups your cheek, although at this point, his hands are huge compared to you. 

“Lyney? Why did you do this to me?!” You exclaim as Scaramouche starts thrusting into you; you could barely take his length at this size. Your stomach starts bulging with each thrust, his cock definitely in your womb. 

"Look at you, pregnant with my cock," he coos. "What a good little slut, taking in my cock."

Lyney laughs and snaps his fingers and his clothes disappear. The blond then sits around behind you and pushes you towards your own cat boy's chest, grabbing Scaramouche's face and kissing him, tongues swirling in their mouths. A bit of spit drops on your face as you look up at the two moaning boys making out.

All of sudden, you feel something wet prod your ass. Turns out, Lyney had licked his pinky finger before kissing Scaramouche and was prodding your rear end with it. The one finger almost barely fits, and you can feel your insides being rearranged. At the same time, Scaramouche forcibly opens your mouth and tells you to suck on his fingers.

"Annhh. Imagine how good your tiny mouth would feel on my dick, " He moans through kissing the blonde. Only one finger would fit in your mouth, and you lick it and suck on it like it was a lifeline. You moan while sucking on his delicate digits and being fucked in both holes, sending both cat boys even further towards the edge. 

You try to mention something about bodily injury of being fucked at this size, but couldn't make anything out due to the pleasure overriding your brain.

"Never worry, my dear," Lyney says behind you. "The magic protects your insides. Although, my eyes are on the handsome one that is currently inside of you." 

He thrusts his pinky a few more times in your ass before pushing you and Scaramouche backwards on the bed; you almost fall off your partner, but Lyney sandwiching you between the two cat boys keeps you in place. The raven-haired cat boy looks incredulously at the blonde, wondering what was going to happen next, as if he didn't know. 

Lyney conjures up some lube and puts the other cat boy's knees closer to his head for easier access to the bluenette’s hole. You crash into your lover's chest and give his nipple a small nibble and a few flicks of the tongue, making him moan your name. There was a deep rumble in his chest that could be confused with rolling thunder, but it was just him purring and moaning at the stimulation. 

As Lyney stuck his own cock in Scaramouche’s ass, you suck on his nipple even harder, biting and groping the area around it. The cat boy moans even louder as the blond bottoms out. Lyney’s pinky finger returns to your ass, going in easier this time. Their tails intertwine, and Lyney starts thrusting into your lover's needy hole and at the same time Scaramouche bucks his hips into you. He uses his large hands to keep you from falling off, but eventually sits you up, detaches you from his nipple, and demands that you suck on his finger again. 

You suck and moan on his finger, nearly cumming with every thrust that Scaramouche pumps into you. Your cat boy starts babbling about how good this all feels;the angle of Lyney’s cock hitting his prostate, the tiny cat girl pussy around his dick and her lewd mouth having its way with his fingers. It was all too good. 

"Aa~~ r-right there," the cat boy moans. "F-faster!....yes….I-I'm cumming again~" Lyney thrusts even faster, causing your tiny body to bounce up and down on your lover's cock, and both you and Lyney cum at the same time, causing Scaramouche to cum yet again. 

Basking in the afterglow, Lyney restores you to your normal size and makes your cat ears and tail disappear. You weren’t going to lie: the cat ears and tail had to be your favorite part of the whole experience….and being fucked at reduced size was pretty nice as well.

The three of you pass out on the bed, Scaramouche on your right side and Lyney on your left, and each one of them cuddling you, both wishing to do that again.

You awake to two small cat boys on either side, each one about half the size of a normal human. One with raven hair, the other with platinum blonde. You smile.

"Good morning, darlings." 

[yourlocalstranger123]

Explanation for the names from what I learned: Kunikuzushi= what He named himself. Kabukimono= what the people called him. Scaramouche= fatui era. Wanderer= current with an anemo vision.

Part 1/Idea part 2 part 3

Apologies advance: Sorry if you can't tell who is talking.

Reader: Bold

@0rah-s

—Scaramouche-lovable-versions—

Earlier: you did not know how this happened. How did wanderer versions of himselves appear in front of you?? Well, now there's 4 people with you, you sat there as kunikuzushi sat on your lap, and he snuggles you. While Kabukimono is still slightly nice, as he sits there quietly and clings onto your arm. Wanderer just leaned onto your shoulders as he got flustered and would hit you in the arm if you said anything about it. Scaramouche is just watching the whole thing and gets annoyed and embarrassed that his versions of himself are clinging to you. It's not like he's getting jealous or anything.....

-—- current:

"Tch. Pathetic, clinging onto this thing?"

Scaramouche points at you, furrowing his eyebrows as he watches the others still enjoying your presence.

"I don't wanna admit, but....Im kinda disappointed in my past self."

Wanderer says, looking disappointed but at the same time snickering at him. Scaramouche was about to get his hands bloody until Kabukimono asked him why he was reacting like that with fascination and curiosity in his eyes. Kunikuzushi also wants to ask but doesn't know how.

"What's happening...? Aurgh..."

You said drowsy since you didn't get any sleep from the bickering from last night, and the worst thing is that since they don't sleep or get tired at all.

Everyone looked at you, making you nervous. "What?"

"Nothing..."

Wanderer sighs. "You can go back to sleep now."

"Well, I need food, so let me go cook some." You stretched your arms and legs out. Accidentally letting a few-

*CrAaaAcK*

"..." *Silence*

Kabukimono stars panicking, he learned that if a human bone got broken, you'll hear a crack. He starts running to get the med kit, crying big fat tears as he clutches your shirt.

"*hic* Don't die pleasee!"

"I'm not going to die??"

Wanderer mentally face slaps himself on the forehead. "They're not dead, you idiot."

Scarmouche covers his ears from Kabukimono loud crying. It even gets worser when kunikuzushi starts crying with him even though he doesn't know what's going on.

After some reassurance that you're not gonna die, you finally got up and went to the kitchen. Grabbing some ingredients and stuff to make whatever you're making.

They all just stare at you. Kabukimono and Kunikuzushi just openly stare while Wanderer just side glances every second, so he doesn't seem interested and staring. [It's so obvious] Scaramouche is literally just hiding in the corner, sending death stares into your back. [You're even more obvious than Wanderer]

You told them to go to the living room and wait there. And not even 1 second later, Wanderer and Scaramouche sends snarky remarks or comments to each other. As kuni and kabu just watches in fascination.

They stopped suddenly when they smelled something. It wasn't bad, it smells good. [I don't know if your F/F is smelly or not. No offense to the smelly thing- I promsie.]

They went into the kitchen, seeing you eating your F/F (favorite food). They flinched when you caught them staring.

"Want some?" Your words are slightly muffled from you still chewing your food.

"Hah, we don't require food. We're not wea-"

Scaramouche is stunned to see kuni and kabu already sitting there being hand fed by you. At least Wanderer isn't getting convinced to—

"Wanderer, come over here and have some."

....Wanderer was about to decline until you headed a spoon of food to him. He found himself obediently sitting on the chair, being hand fed by you. He declined the food again but immediately stuffed his mouth with food when you offered another spoon of food.

Scarmouche standing there, frozen in place. You offered him food but he refused loudly. Saying again that he didn't need food unlike you weaklings.

He kept staring at you when you kept hand feeding them. Scowling at you. Wanderer looks at Scaramouche and mouths

'What? Jealous?'

Smirking as his mouth opens wide to let you feed him.

'What?! I'm not jealous! I'm just saying that eating is utterly useless..! It's not like I only want me to be hand fed by [Name]!' Scaramouche thought. Scowling at the thought. [More like pouting since he is oh, so jealous of them.]

Without noticing, you walked up to him and put a spoon full of food near his face. He became flustered, telling you to go away, and he doesn't need it. You pretended to be disappointed, and O' so sad :(

He perked up and took a bite. Saying muffled words that you should be grateful.

After cleaning up with Wanderer, since all of them don't know how to, you told them to follow you. You fell on the bed, smiling comfortably. You turned your head to see them

"Come on, join me."

Kunikuzushi immediately came to lay his head on your left arm, Kabukimono following the same but on the right arm. Wanderer laid on top of you.

Scaramouche said that he doesn't need sleep and will just watch out the door for any intruders. You carefully got up and picked him up.

"Hey! Let me go-!"

You humed in response. Making him lay on top of you on the left side as everyone went back to their positions. [Wanderer is on the right side on top of you]

He begrudgingly accepts his face. Eyes slowly closing. Forming a slight smile.

They fall asleep. Happily sleeping in your warmth.

Sweet dreams~

[fairykazu]

NOT-SUPER-SECRET-CRUSH: tutor scaramouche in session! FT. SCARAMOUCHE contents // friends to lovers, requited love, hs au, modern au notes // if i write about my own math lesson here, would i remember it easier? masterlist // part one // part two

[sat. 8:30]

oh, god, what time is it? you squinted as the sun shined brightly on your face. grabbing your phone, [saturday | 8:31]. oh no. sure, you're one minute late but scaramouche hates people who are late. what if he flakes from being your tutor. oh, it's SO over.

scaramochi: where are you? scaramochi: do you even want to take this seriously?

you quickly replied back,

bobaluvname: i just woke up bobaluvname: my parents aren't home, im sorry. i don't have a ride (T_T) scaramochi: are you fr? bobaluvname: yeah... im sorry :(( scaramochi: ok

archons, sure, he's usually dry on text but not this dry! as you panicked, undressing from your pjs and quickly changed into am outfit.

ding!

what the hell? who's ringing the doorbell right now. you walked to the door slowly, you were still trying to stick your arms through the armholes. peeking through the peep hole, it was a familiar purple haired boy. wait.

WAIT.

what is scaramouche doing outside your door???

the indigo haired male sat at the furthest corner of the library, isolated from everyone else. scaramouche was worried about you but not like he would tell you anyway. the only way would be someone had to waterboard this information from him. but again, you're usually an early riser that's what he likes... tolerates you for. why are you late?

he turned behind him where the analog clock was mounted on the wall, the little hand on the eight and the longest hand pointing down. maybe something happened on the way? or you're stuck at home.

he texted you a message. [where are you?] ...no, that gives away that he's concerned. then, he added: [do you even want to take this seriously?]

perfect... doesn't he want you to know he likes you? no, this is serious work and an equal exchange of education and knowledge. it would be a plus though. he argued with himself a little more until he heard his phone buzzed.

[ two notifcations from idiot]

he swiped the notifcations open, seeing that you were in the chatroom.

idiot: i just woke up. idiot: my parents aren't home, im sorry. i don't have a ride to the library

he was right. you did have a dilemma, but he had to make sure. sending a reply back as he packed up his items back into his bag.

idiot: yeah... im sorry :((

well, it's well over five minutes of the initial meeting. he could treat you like everyone else and be an asshole to end the session immediately.

but you weren't like everyone else to him. you're someone he tolerates. as he was walking out of the library, he noticed you were still in the chatroom.

idiot is typing...

he stared at you typing and deciding not to type again. he waited for your text bubble to come back again. five minutes pass. your bubble doesn't come back. well, it would be better if he might as well go to her house, right? he doesn't decide to be rational about this and maybe this might seem romantic to you.

maybe...

that's how scaramouche ended up being in front of your door. he knocked softly before ringing the doorbell, "hello?"

he heard your gasp. "you're not subtle, you know. are you going to open the door?"

"ummm, yes! hold on." it seemed like you were struggling to open the door. maybe, the morax family hid a key under the rug or a gnome. he looked around the porch, noticing that he was stepping over a bump in the rug.

is it creepy to open your friend that you weren't very close with's door with the key the family didn't cleverly hid? 

yes.

he didn't open the door. instead, he waited for you to open the door yourself.

oh my god, you didn't expect him to just arrive on your doorstep with ease. from rumors you've heard, he wouldve ended the sessions without a second thought. you slipped into your shirt and patted the nonexistent dust off of your pants. you looked at the mirror mounted near the door. your hair is a mess...

you brushed your hair quickly, taking the spare hair ties that your dad leaves at the front. disheveled hair into a "sleek" ponytail. not really, sleek, you shouldn't lie to yourself.

you kept him outside for too long though. "come in!" the door creaked open, revealing scaramouche with his bag and two cups of very cold drinks in the other. "your shirt is on backwards and inside out."

"it is?" you looked down at your shirt, the tag was sticking out.

it's so over.

any remaining self-worth was drifted away in the wind and out the door. you closed your eyes and smiled, "okay, thanks, come in through."

he took off his shoes and placed them in the shoe rack. "i got us drinks but it's a bit cold now." your face fell and he smiled, enjoying teasing you. but from your point of view, he seemed a devil. a very smart devil though!

"although, you did waste my time," why is his words so harsh for wanting to say something nice? "but it's fine. it's whatever miss yae wanted to give to my mother. what now?"

"well, we can go in my room! c'mon, just wait for a minute because, well, y'know." you gestured to your inside out and backwards shirt.

"got it." as he watched you go upstairs. going to her room?? he's a little freaked out but he has to play it cool. "scaramouche, go up!"

"don't boss me around." despite his words, he walked up the stairs. you shouted back, with your shirt on correctly.

"i have the power though! think of your english grade." you explained, smirking. he snorted at your attempt of "winning".

"how about you think about your math and science grade?" he retorted back as he heard you sigh, he laughed to himself, reveling in the fact that he won this pretend competition.

well, you won in a way but definitely not this one because he would never tell you.

it's awkward... or at least to scaramouche. you had asked if he wanted to be the tutor or the tutee and he opted to the tutee. but he couldn't even pay attention to the words you were saying, as it was in of one ear and out of the other. it's strange to be in the bedroom of the girl he has crushed on for years.

you were on the other side of the desk, guiding him on a topic he was awful at. as much as he wanted to pay attention to what you were saying, he couldn't but help to look at you or your lips and how soft they'd feel against his.

ahem. he squeezed his eyes shut. maybe he should've offered to be the tutor.

your hand briefly touched his shoulder, he flinched, "scaramouche? are you okay? do you need a break?"

one touch from you made him freeze, it's so over for his reputation. he mumbled out a word which you took as a yes. "i'll get you a drink and snacks, okay? maybe you're not in the right mood for english, it's okay. you can tutor me for my lessons, instead."

scaramouche pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded stiffly. thank god, she didn't notice.

scaramouche is defintely acting off today. usually he's super grouchy, is it opposite day? do you start being like mr. grinch? why was scara acting so weird?? you thought as you walked down the stairs. turning into the kitchen to see...

oh god, it's baba.

your dad sat near the counter, waiting for his tea leaves to seep into the hot water. what would your dad think with scaramouche being in your room? would he freak out?? does he even know scara??? "hello, name, do you need anything? did the tutoring go well?" he asked. the steam swirled out of the cup as you tried to answer quick but not too quickly.

"hi, baba! i need some water. do you know where the bottles are?"

he adjusted his glasses, "below the counter. did your tutoring go well?"

"it's not exactly over. the tutor- remember scaramouche?-" you tried to express scaramouche with hand movements. a guy around your age on the shorter side.

he sipped his tea, "ahh, ei's child?"

"mhm! he's upstairs right now."

he choked on his tea, "what." you grabbed some napkins dabbing your dad's clothes with the cloth. "i didn't have a ride to the library," as your dad tried to regain his composure, slipping away from the counter, you grabbed the water bottles and a few snacks from the cabinets. your arms were full as you walked upstairs, "don't worry, baba! i will crack the door open."

"it better be wide open, young lady! you should've informed me about this!!"

"i'm sorry, baba!" your door closed completely behind you as you apologized, "oopsy, baba, i forgot!"

the door creaked open.

"hi, scara, my dad's home. but i have snacks."

"mr. morax is here... ?" scaramouche repeated, sounding a bit afraid. is your dad scary? maybe. did your friends say meeting your dad was like approaching a dragon? yes. is scaramouche feeling a little light headed? no (lying).

"yes, don't worry, he's all bark, no bite! anyway, tutor me, scara." you smiled brightly as he opted to be grouchy again. no way, he would falter this time.

you sat down next to him as scaramouche asked, "okay, so what chapter are you on?"

you tapped your chin, trying to remember, "chapter five, exponential and logarithmic functions."

"oh, i liked that chapter."

you frowned. scaramouche chuckled quietly, it's as if that frown would be engraved into your face. he stopped laughing, but a smile on your face would be better. he cleared his throat, "once you get a hang of it, it would be easier."

"are you sure?"

"would i be passing math right now if i wasn't?" scaramouche said, boasting a little.

"ok, don't flex on me too much now." you cried.

"for this problem you have to remember that logb y, which is the argument, equals x only if the equation is bx equals y. this is a rule you have to remember throughout the lesson."

"what?"

"you'll get the hang of it." he said it with confidence. after realizing, he sounded too nice, he added, harshly, "if you did, you wouldn't have needed me in the first place."

you pushed him playfully, "okay, scaramouche, don't let that get in your head, remember? you're the one with a terrible score in english."

"..."

as time passed, the lessons were easier to understand for the both of you, well, mostly scaramouche. but he wouldn't tell you that. he did. he likes to boast, remember?

[one notification from baba +1]

baba: i forgot i have more work to intend to baba: next time, please tell me if you will have a friend over. name: very sorry, baba! i will tell you next time. have fun at work, tell hu tao to stop overworking you :(( baba: 😂😂 baba: do not worry, name, hu tao doesn't overwork me. name: okay! have fun at work, love you baba: love you too.

after the session was over, scaramouche winced at himself, thinking back what he said three hours ago. although it was true, your shirt was on backwards and even inside out, he wanted to say, "morning, let's continue."

but continue what?? you guys didn't start tutoring beforehand. he's so stupid. attempting to save himself from the silence filling the room, he offered,

"do you want boba?" he said, quickly as he watched your eyes gleam with joy.

you laughed it off before you noticed he was serious. "wait, seriously?"

"yes, it's my treat." he replied, looking at you. has he ever looked this sparkly before? wait, this isn't a shoujo anime and obviously, he means it as friends. "sure! like right now or later?"

"do you want boba right now or later?" wow, answering a question with a question, so smart, scaramouche. the answer was obvious by just looking at you. "im fine with later though."

"no, no! right now is fine! just let me text my dad first."

"of course." scaramouche said.

name: baba, can i go out with scaramouche for boba? baba: yes but bring another friend too. name: i'll go to the boba place that ganyu works at! baba: good idea. have fun, name. who will be paying? do you need money? name: he will baba: 👍👍

"he said yeah but can we go to the one ganyu works at?" you asked as scaramouche nodded his head,

"since i'd pay, you can choose."

"hooray!!!" you cheered as you looked at him expectantly. he furrowed his brows as you gestured him to cheer too.

"hooray."

well, it was good enough.

tutor scara's tutees [open] : @saccharine-sucks @ainnofinway

[kichiyosh1]

Deceitful Youth: "III - Eyes on you, always"

< previous | Masterlist | next >

The ringing of the bell echoed throughout the school's hallways, alongside it are the sounds of shoes swiftly coming into contact with the marbled floors. Quickly turning corners and going up stairs, you finally made it to your destination. Panting heavily, the both of you took a moment to let air into your lungs. You didn't even notice you were still holding hands with the new girl when you knocked on the door with your other hand.

After giving the two of you a questioning look through the small screen glass on the door, the teacher let you in shortly. Her expression quickly changed after registering the presence of the person you brought with you. "I see you took it upon yourself to bring in the new student. You really are such a hard worker, y/n." You were quick to dismiss what she said, a little embarrassed by the compliment and a little guilty since you only happened to bring the new girl here by coincidence after bumping into her.

"Really mrs. ningguang, I don't deserve to be called such after arriving late like this, it's unbefitting of me."

"Alright, alright. Best you take your seat now so we can begin the lesson. Oh, but have your friend here introduce herself first to the class, please." You nod your head. Turning to your friend, you felt how her hand slightly clenched yours, an unreadable expression on her face.

Introductions were unnecessary, It's not like he came here to make friends with a bunch of nobodies anyways, but the caress of your touch, both of your hands now clasping his. It surprised him, and the determined look on your face said he had nothing to worry about.

"No worries! if you end up getting scared then just focus your attention on me, it'll be easier and less overwhelming." You gave her a smile before completely letting go of her hand and heading to your seat. Good thing you did because if he was in your presence any longer he'd have surely fainted on the spot. Red quickly brought color to his face, as he could only sheepishly smile.

This was the [y/n] that had helped him in the past. The same girl that insisted on staying by his side even when others had disregarded him. The thought of you alone was more than enough to sooth him. You took away his pain, gave him a new meaning to what he wanted to be with you

But you also caused it when you decided to transfer here.

'focus my attention on you, huh?' He was already standing in front of the class 'I'll make you crave it', the room's gone silent. A few of them still whispering among themselves, but she didn't pay them any mind since her sights were already set on you.

"The name's Scara—" (Using his real name was far too risky. In the past you were one of the only few that he allowed to call him by his real name, Kunikuzushi. He'd prefer if people called him by the new name he made up for himself, but you didn't know that.)

He said a few more things, throwing in some random hobbies and ambitions all while maintaining that sweet voice, but what he said last had you holding in a laugh.

"Oh, and I'm not into guys."

The bell rang to indicate it was finally time for recess. You could hardly keep your hand steady to fit your coin into the vending machine, still thinking about how scara ended her introduction. "What was that about? Not gonna lie but it kind of caught me off guard." A soft laugh escaped your lips, the coin finally slotted in and your favourite snack fell out.

"I don't see what's so funny." He was able to calm down his previous elation from meeting you. Finding it natural to hold a conversation with you now.

"I guess that's just something I wouldn't expect coming from a pretty girl like you, you know?" You said it so calmly while opening your bag of food, you weren't able to notice how red Scara got again. Were compliments this easy to give and receive between girls? He could hardly keep his composer, but inside he's feasting on any positive comment you send his way.

"I dislike people in general, but guys are just the worst." he said it in such a sickening tone but his face stayed neutral, giving you a glance before the clink of the vending machine sounded. He was trying to see based on your reaction how comfortable you were with the topic. Did you perhaps have a change of mind? Was it still necessary for him to keep up this facade? Did you still look at guys with that same amount of discomfort and disgust your mother had?

You pondered for a moment, before a single chuckle left your lips.

"Yeah, guys are just the worst."

You started munching on your food, brows furrowed as you made your way back to the classroom. "Dthey jusht can't vbe chtrusted!" your words were barely audible as you continued to angrily speak your mind. Not that He minded, Scara seemed more focused on the sound of your voice. He hasn't heard it properly in so long (even now when you're talking with your mouth full, but that's besides the point), and even back then, the sound of your classmates and the background noise of your previous school grating his ears. You were actually talking to him, the nostalgic feeling bringing a contented smile to his face.

It was just like back then when you first approached him. You didn't have trouble speaking your mind before you started to distance yourself. The empty feeling in his chest started to fester, to the point that not a minute, not even a second goes by that he's not thinking about you. That he's not imagining the warmth of your first hug. That he's not dreaming of you and him together.

He was scared, that one day you'll disappear for good and all he's left with is the faint image of you and the past memories you shared. So he made sure to watch over you whenever he could. Slipping extra money into your bag whenever he'd hear you complain you didn't have enough on you, (in exchange he'd take one or two of your hair ties). Scaring off any guys that would linger near you locker (so that he could slip in some of the love letters he wrote.) Following you around to make sure you got home safely ( snapping a few pictures whenever he could).

He did all those things out of love, because he cared for you. There are times he wished you'd notice him, how much he's doing for you that it actually starts to hurt. He just wants you to look at him again, the same way you did back when you were younger, more innocent.

But he's afraid. Afraid you'd look at him the same way you looked at other men. Having your eyes on him, only for you to scrunch your eyebrows and morph your face into a look of disgust. It feels too cold, too cruel it has him shivering. He looks at you with so much love and adoration, and not once has he given you such a hateful gaze. So until now that was the extent of it all. Hand reached out but never enough to reach you, as if afraid to hurt you, but more terrified to hurt himself.

The sound of fingers being snapped slowly started to fade in. "Hellooo, Scara? You were spacing out just now." You looked pretty worried, but Scara dismissed it by giving you a genuine smile. 'Good to know you still cared'

"I'm fine. We should hurry though, don't want to be late again, right?" He already took hold of your hand, giggling to himself while you gave him a confused look, but nonetheless smiled along.

He liked that look on your face. He hopes that one day you'd look at the real him that way, but right now this was enough. You were finally looking at him again, and he's able to look at you without being scared that you'd leave. He'll make sure to keep a close eye on you. He won't tear his gaze off you so easily this time.

━━━━

Taglist!

@r0ttenhearts @kazuuhhaaaa @ahseya @reirea-002 @silaswritesthings @scaraapologist @magica-ren @sketcheeee @dan9a-00 @bdf2 @tearsin @randomnl @xinhar @after-determination-tale @valeriele3 @serossidechick @worldhardtibbysoft @darkxrain @cloudycloudd @lazy-sanns @scara-alzwari @silly-ez @featuredtofu @st4rcheese @scara-obsessed @reisinnie @sky-angel101 @layla240

[chickenparm]

By Choice or By Accident (Wanderer/Reader)

Spoilers for Interlude Chapter: Act III Inversion of Genesis

i made the executive decision that the traveler fucks around a bit and takes a good while longer to decipher what scara changed with irminsul and wow, that's a convenient amount of time for him to get real soft on someone huh-

(also i believe scara says he doesn't like sweets only because ei DOES like sweets and he secretly loves them you cannot change my mind, back off)

AO3 LINK

Wanderer/Reader

5,258 Words - SFW

Nothing heinous. Fluff, 2 seconds of Angst, meandering narrative, skipping time a little bit, Reader is a candy maker. Very indulgent, don't take this seriously.

---

Despite its status as a hub of commerce, it’s rather obvious when a new face arrives in the Grand Bazaar. Even more so when they’re dressed like that - soft blues against striking azure, a wide hat and carefully placed body armor to show martial skill. 

When the grocer across the way brings home a straggler, your initial thought is to be wary. There’s an unsettled quiet around him as he keeps his head ducked low and his face carefully hidden. The protection on his arms and shins suggests some martial skill, yet there’s no vision to be seen on his person. 

In the beginning, you’re wary - and rightfully so. Then his head lifts and his eyes move around the bazaar before he realizes you’re staring, and something fundamental changes in that split second. The air around him shifts, the guarded expression in his eyes bleeds away, and you’re left staring at excited eyes and a smile that shines with both anticipation and trepidation. 

The grocer’s new stray becomes a fixture. One that you quietly watch from your stall of handmade sweets, your gaze occasionally broken by the excited child or curious adult, all of whom are the sources of your livelihood here. But even your regulars find it hard to keep your attention when something so interesting is just across the way. 

Initially, the first word you’d use to describe him is untouchable. Like something priceless to be placed on a shelf. Only to look at, never to hold in your hands and sully it with your touch. Even as he works diligently at the grocer and displays less than fragile tendencies, you still can’t keep yourself from marveling at the otherworldly sort of perfection. 

Then, just like that, it’s swept away in the span of a short interaction. 

While you’ve overheard his quiet arguments with the grocer about not accepting pay, you know for certain he’s been tipped on deliveries to their customers. It’s what gives him the means to tentatively cross the walkway to your stall, stand a respectful distance away, and let pretty violet eyes wander over what you have on display for the day. 

And they are pretty. A color you’ve never seen before, even in a city like Sumeru where fabrics in all manner of hues are commonplace. You’re not entirely sure that someone could accurately recreate such a shade of purple. 

Quietly, as if to keep from imposing on you, he steps a little closer and squeezes the pouch of mora in front of him with a grip so tight his knuckles turn just a little lighter than the rest of his pale skin. It’s painfully obvious that he’s nervous, but his chin lifts and his chest expands with an inhale, and you’re impressed with the bravery he’s showing to simply peruse a candy stall. 

“Please recommend something to me!”

He says it like he’s about to run into battle - and your heart that was wary at first melts. Any caution is thrown to the wind as your shoulders relax, and a smile spreads across your face, and you ask, “What do you like?”

To your surprise, he clams up for a moment, twisting at the ties of the mora pouch until you’re certain the ropes are going to unravel. The last thing you expect is a quiet, “...I’m not sure.”

Okay. You can handle that, as strange as it is. Going into your usual sales pitch with gusto, you try your hardest not to be distracted by the way he cocks his head and leans in, listening with rapt attention as you point out each little piece, which were handmade and which you had brought him, which were your favorites and which ones most people seemed to gravitate toward. 

“These ones aren’t popular, but I like them. They’re sour, but once you get to the middle, there’s a sweetness that chases it away. Just don’t eat too many, they’ll make your mouth sore!”

“It’s sour, but you say they’re good?” His fingers pinch his chin in thought as he looks at each flavor you have of the small selection. It’s no use keeping a large stock when its audience is few and far between. “Sour on the outside, sweet on the inside, huh?”

“It makes the sweetness that much nicer if you can make it through the tough bit. It’s kind of like life, isn’t it? Once you make it through the difficult parts, the moments that are softer are that much better when you’re in them.”

Violet eyes watch you in wonder, lips gently parted as he mulls over your impromptu advice. With warm cheeks, you busy yourself with straightening the rows, the smallest bit of embarrassment making your fingers shake. They don’t look any neater when you’ve finished.

He picks one of everything you indicate as your preference, carefully counting out the coins and giving a little extra that you try to place back in his hand. But he grasps your wrist until your palm is up, pushing the extra coins there and using his free hand to curl your fingers around them securely. The smile on his face is wider than any you’ve seen, cutting into his cheeks and making the corners of his eyes squint in its wake. 

“Just for being kind, that’s all.” And his touch lingers for a moment long enough to make your heart skip, your fingers itching to grasp at his own so he could stay just a little longer. “Can I come back tomorrow?”

“I don’t think you’ll get through all that candy in a night.” Or he could, you’re in no place to judge him for it. Certainly, children much smaller than him have performed that feat before. 

In return, he smiles sheepishly and focuses on his hands holding yours, his thumb pressing against the pulse point of your wrist. There’s no doubt he can feel your heart racing from his touch and his presence, his soft grin and the slight flush on the apples of his cheeks. “Maybe not. But… just to talk to you? I’d like to know you if you’d let me.”

If he notices your persistent giddiness for the remainder of the bazaar’s open hours, he mercifully doesn’t make any comment on it. He simply returns the next day with praises over what you’d sold him the day before, exclaiming that the sour candies were his favorite, and an earnest question. 

“Could you teach me how to make this?”

And how could you say no? When his hands were fisted at his sides to hide how they shake at the prospect of such a simple question, there’s no way you could deny something so… sweet.

That evening, after he closes up with the grocer, he crosses the pathway that separates you and offers to help you carry your goods home for the day. It’s with great pleasure you gesture to a house just two doors down - your home and workshop all in one. He doesn’t let you carry your goods, anyway.

“It must be nice, living so close. I’m glad to see it.”

“Glad?” You ask, watching carefully at how he carries a box with one arm that you often have to drag across the ground on a nightly basis. He must be deceptively strong. The hat he wears is tucked beneath his other arm, leaving his smooth hair a little mussed after a day of wearing it. 

His head bobs as he watches you unlock the door with a key from your pocket, the hinges groaning as you step inside and urge him to follow as you work to light the lamps. The answer you asked for comes as the room illuminates. “I’d hate for you to have to walk so far at night. It’s not very safe.”

“True, but the bazaar is one of the safest places in the city. And I’ve lived here all my life.”

“Spending your life somewhere doesn’t always make it safe,” he pauses, just long enough to set the box of goods down on the table that dominates the center of your home, “but it’s not really my place to be overbearing about your safety. I’m sorry if that was too much.”

“No! It was… nice. Thank you for caring.” The words strike him into stillness, his hand resting on the lid of the box, thumb curling around the edge to press into the wood. His other hand rubs over his chest, just beneath the dangling ornament and pinion that jingle slightly in the comfortable silence. 

The swallow he makes is audible, a show of that nervousness that comes when he seems to be faced with sincerity he doesn’t know what to do with. To his credit, his voice doesn’t waver, even a little. “You’ve been nothing but nice to me. Of course I’d care, even a little.” And that endearing pink comes back again, barely visible in the lights that are just beginning to grow stronger as the flame catches the wicks.

“You’ve been nice, too. Give yourself a little credit.” 

Outside, other merchants are making their way home. The sound of carts and laughter trickles into the room, breaking the tension that’s somehow formed despite such an innocuous topic. Clearing your throat, you ask, “You know, I don’t actually know your name. You’ve never told me.”

While the tension is gone for you, it doubles down on him as his shoulders clench, and he pointedly looks away. The far corner of the room suddenly becomes impossibly interesting to him, at least compared to how you begin to move closer to unpack the box. 

“That’s because… I don’t have one. I’m just a wanderer. Any name I might’ve had, I don’t remember it anymore.”

“Do you not remember by choice, or by accident?”

You don’t miss the way his eyes follow your movements as you bring the sour candies out. Pointedly, you pull a few from their bag and push them across the table to him. As if he were afraid they’d disappear, his fingers wrap around them and drag them closer. One pops in his mouth, and he waits until the sweetness makes itself known before he finally answers.

“A little of both, I think.” The candy clacks against his teeth, running along his molars from one side to the other, as if he’s preventing a single spot from being scoured by the sourness. Perhaps it’s also a tactic to delay what comes next, something you only realize when he says it. “You should know… I’m not exactly human. I’m-... I’m a puppet.”

“Okay.”

“...Okay?”

Giving him time to ruminate over that, you finish unloading the box before stowing it away beneath the table. It gives you enough time to formulate a tactful response. Palms on the table, you lean to get the weight off your feet from standing all day, and explain yourself. “That doesn’t change anything. I still like you, I’ll still teach you. You must’ve lived a long time then, huh?”

He doesn’t give you a number, and you don’t exactly ask, but the way he exhales until his lungs are empty tells you that in his mind, it might have been a few too many years to walk through. Has he wandered all that time? Alone? It doesn’t feel right to ask - so you don’t. 

Instead, as you begin to lay out supplies for tomorrow’s stock, you quietly make a promise to yourself that if you can help it, perhaps he won’t need to use the term lonely to describe himself ever again. 

—

When you first opened your stall, it was commonplace for you to grow sick after contacting so many people on a daily basis. It was just expected, it came with the territory, and you only needed a handful of months for your body to grow used to it. Nowadays, you hardly find yourself feeling ill at all.

Then there were days like today, where the world is too bright, and your skin feels too hot and too cold, uncomfortable no matter your position. The softness of your bed curls around you, cradling your aching joints as you struggle to maintain a comfortable body temperature. The windows facing the street show that the sun is already risen, though at this time of day, not as much of it makes it down to the bazaar, even at the outskirts as you are.

Wrapped in your blankets in the throes of a cold chill is how the wanderer finds you. His steps into your home are tentative - you’d given him a key, and you thank yourself for the foresight. Looking into your bedroom, his expression goes from curiosity to something that couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than fear.

“What’s wrong? Look at me-”

“I’m okay.” Talking makes your head feel thick and muddled, stuffed too full of the meager thoughts it requires to get words out. But he’s kneeling next to your head now, hands hovering over you but not quite touching, like he’s unsure of what to do next. It lightens your mood a little, seeing him fret like this. “Just a little sick - it goes around this time of year.”

“What do you need me to do? Do you need food? Have you had anything to drink today? Hang on, let me get a washcloth.”

And he’s on his feet, moving to your kitchen and out of your ability to call him back. A quiet laugh leaves you as you roll onto your back, snuggling beneath blankets and listening as he sifts through your cabinets to find a bowl, then fill it with cool water to bring back to you. His eyes are more focused on the bowl as he enters, determined not to spill it until he’s able to set it down on your bedside table. 

Before you can say a word, the back of his fingers press to your forehead, and he hisses through his teeth. There’s no need to say that you’re burning up, not with how he hurriedly wrings out the cloth and folds it delicately on your forehead. Even chilled as you are, it feels like heaven, and you all but melt into the blankets as the fingers of his hand linger along your brow. 

“Better?”

“Mm… yes, thank you.”

“Okay. It’s okay.” He sounds more like he’s reassuring himself, rather than you. There’s something haunted in his eyes, something that’s clawing at the back of his mind. Far be it from your place to ask, but the fever has lowered your inhibitions, and you can’t help but lick the chapped dryness of your lips before asking what you wish to know. 

“Why are you afraid? Look at you, you’re terrified.”

The answer is immediate, maybe even instinctual. “I don’t know.” His eyes linger over your face, trailing over the dark circles beneath your eyes and the weariness that lingers. “My mind is telling me terrible things, almost like I’ve… lost someone like this. But I’ve never-... I haven’t been around anyone long enough to care. Not like this.”

He cares. About you. Sure, that was obvious enough at this point, but the fact that he puts it into words so candidly makes your heart flutter nervously. It’s been a long time since anyone would go to these lengths for you in your time of need, and for it to be him… It makes you feel leagues better already.

“I’m… I’ll make you something to eat. And get you something to drink. I’ll be back.”

The words tumble out of him, one after another, with little control. He’s nearly out the door by the time you comprehend that he’d been pink in the cheeks, fingers nervously twirling the golden feather on his chest. He cares. What a novel thought.

It doesn’t take him terribly long to return. Just long enough for your eyes to droop closed and your mind to wander off into dreams of pretty violet eyes and the faint scent of flowers that you’ve never come across before. Soft smiles, a hand running down your arm, a thumb across your cheek as a familiar voice urges you to reawaken. 

“Just a few bites, then you can sleep.”

Easy enough, when the spoon finds its way to your mouth of its own accord. Yet it’s not sentient - it’s held by lithe fingers that guide it steadily. At your back is his arm, helping you sit up so you don’t spill over your sheets. Quietly, you shift a little closer and bask in that faint floral smell that’s like nothing in Sumeru. The only way you can explain it is if you were describing the wanderer himself.

Drinking is an easy affair, thanks to the straw he’d somehow found you, and once he’s satisfied you’ve completed the tasks he’s laid out, so too does he lay you back on your bed. With distance comes a stark loneliness, and you reach for his hand as he stands from where he’d been kneeling. “Stay? Please?”

“Let me grab a chair at least. Your floor hurts.”

You want to tell him to just climb in your bed. To let you curl around him for all the comfort he can offer, greedily taking and taking because he’s always so willing to give. But the last bit of your self-control pulls you back in, releasing your grip to allow him to drag a chair across the floor to sit at your bedside with an exasperated smile. 

“Sleep now. I’ll be here when you wake.”

“Hm… Promise?”

“I swear it on my life. I’m not going anywhere.”

The last thought before you drift off is a quiet murmur of your heart repeating that he cares. About you, about your wellbeing. He’ll be here when your eyes open, hopefully with less of that fear he’s still holding onto. The washcloth on your forehead is changed, slim fingers wipe away stray water droplets, and all the while he hums a tune under his breath that sounds like the sweetest song.

—

The wanderer has only one devastating, debilitating flaw - he’s a worrier. 

Whether it’s after a long day and you’re bone tired, or you were too busy to eat lunch, or even if you’re just feeling a little ill, he has an incessant need to coddle. On anyone else, it wouldn’t be a good look. You’re a grown adult, you can take care of yourself, keep yourself safe and cared for. 

But something about the way he does it soothes any outrage you could possibly feel. Insistent, quiet, offered with a smile that seems almost pleading. And you know that while he’s making you dinner and taking on the duty of meticulously creating fruit-shaped candies for tomorrow’s weekend sale, it’s for his own sake as much as it is yours. 

And so, if it keeps him smiling as he carefully pours soup into a bowl for you, you’re more than willing to let him get away with it. 

Chin propped on your hand, elbow on the table, you let your eyes drift closed as the weariness of the day catches up to you. The festival over the weekend was one of the biggest in a long time, and your preparations were wearing you impossibly thin. It meant longer evenings to finish creating stock, longer days to account for new tourists, and all the stress that comes with it. 

Not to mention the last straggling bits of your illness that had kept you homebound for days, still lingering after two long weeks. Your muscles still felt weak, your head still fuzzy.

But the wanderer had been a huge help, especially as the grocer had all but kicked him out of his stall to send over to yours. The grocer had been trying to foist him off on you for weeks now, and he hadn’t really needed to try that hard at all. 

The sound of ceramic sliding across the table in front of you is the indication he’s dropped your food off, and you crack your eyes open just in time to see the golden pinion of his ornament dangling in front of your face as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head. 

Both of you freeze. 

But he doesn’t pull away, and neither do you. Instead, you reach with a shaking hand to the golden feather, grasping it lightly with your fingertips and rubbing your thumb along the subtle ridges. Your curiosity serves an alternate purpose; it keeps him close, prevents him from backing away from you. 

A sigh breezes along your scalp, humid from his breath, and a shiver from you breaks you both out of the odd trance. 

“I’m so sorry-”

“It’s okay.” You cut him off, already anticipating the unwarranted apology for something you desperately wanted him to do again. Even standing above you, he looks incredibly small as his hands clutch at the opening of his kimono, worrying at the edges without a care for the wrinkles he’s creating. 

Letting the feather drop back to his chest, you reach for one of his fretting hands and hold it tight enough in your own that you can’t tell if the tremors come from you or him. It could even be both. Suddenly you’re filled with anticipation so strong it makes your stomach turn painfully. 

But it’s not bad. It’s welcomed, wanted. The only relief you know of is sought after with a simple question. “Could you do it again?”

“...Again?”

“If you’d like to. If it wasn’t a regretful accident.”

His lower lip disappears between his teeth for a moment, then pops out with a pink hue from the abuse. You’re only allowed a second to admire the shade before the only thing you can see is alabaster and violet, your view of the world cut off as he presses his lips to yours with a clumsiness that is borne from inexperience. 

A thud rocks the table from his palm hitting it, an attempt to brace himself as he leans further into you until he’s nearly climbed into your lap. A whine brushes across your cheek through his nose - a high-pitched, cracking sort of sound that’s sweeter to your ears than any song could be, any candy could taste. 

That evening, the wanderer becomes your wanderer. 

And the world seems more vibrant, the music of the festival is more joyous than anything you’ve ever heard. Your wanderer closes your stall and guides you to the theatre to watch Nilou spin and sway. Her movements are nothing short of hypnotic, but hardly enough to catch your attention as you lean against him and let your eyes follow the cut of his jawline, the brush of his hair against his ear, the subtle pink of his blush as he catches you staring from the corner of his eye. 

For an evening, the entirety of Teyvat feels like it’s in harmony. He smiles down at you, and the stars above shine just a little bit brighter. An arm winds around your waist to hold you closer, and the lyrics to the music lose their meaning, the tune grows meandering and unimportant compared to how he smiles so, so gently. 

If asked, you’re not sure that you’d be able to think of a single thing you wouldn’t give up to recklessly chase after this feeling with him. Safe, warm, loved. It’d been there from the beginning, quietly growing subtle roots until it ingrained itself too deep to remove - as if you’d want to. 

That night, you nearly tell him you love him. Something stays your tongue, but you’re not quite sure what it might have been. Tomorrow, you promise yourself as he brings you to your door and kisses you so sweetly that you can do nothing but melt in his hold. Tomorrow, you resolve as you watch him backpedal down the street, giving you that smile you favor so much. 

Tomorrow, you promise the following day as the market quiets following such a busy event, unwilling to break the peace for a confession you’re not entirely confident he’s ready for. Instead, you prop your elbow on your stall’s counter and watch as he smiles at the grocer. As he squats to the level of a child that’s examining fruits, and offers one of the familiar candies from your stall to him. 

Over the child’s head, he catches your eye, and the placating smile turns to one that’s teeth and pink cheeks, embarrassment at having been caught with such softness but not ashamed enough to stop. In the heat of the afternoon, the quiet murmur of the bazaar, the daylight stretching the shadows long as the sun crosses its apex and begins to descend, everything feels the closest to perfection you could ever achieve.

Tomorrow doesn’t come. 

Or rather, it does, but he’s missing. The grocer mentions he’d stepped out of the city to make a run for sunsettias, then left on an errand with a golden-haired newcomer and their floating companion. The Traveler, you recognize vaguely from gossip through the grapevine. They’d keep him safe, surely, but you can’t help but feel a looming sense of dread when he doesn’t return that evening. 

For the first time in months, you eat your dinner alone. 

—

The tables are turned, for once. It’s you that worries over his well-being, so much so that you close your stand for the day and pace around your home like a caged animal. Certainly he must be fine, but he would’ve mentioned it to you if he were leaving, wouldn’t he? It feels wrong to not be aware of his presence, to not simply turn your head and have him at the corner of your vision as a steady presence. 

The grocer stops by to drop a few pieces of produce off, an attempt to check on you and reassure you of the wanderer’s safety with the Traveler. It does little to assuage your fears - nothing does, until the door opens and it’s filled with a familiar silhouette.

Except it’s… not. 

There’s a different set to his shoulders. A tension that lingers for a moment too long before it bleeds away at the sight of you. But his eyes are still the same, taking you in with immeasurable reverence that doesn’t fade even as he steps into your home that’s dimmer than the midday market outside. One, two, three long strides bring him to you, close enough to yank you to his chest and hold you impossibly tight with both arms. 

“I’m sorry.”

Even the tone is different. It’s lower, more tentative, almost as if he expects you to refuse him. Adamant, you wrap your arms tight around his waist and link your hands together, squeezing with everything you can muster as you mumble into the fabric over his chest. “You should be. You had me so worried.”

“That’s… I’m sorry for that, too.”

“You’re sorry for something else?” Pulling your head back, you look up at him. Nothing could have prepared you for the way his face falls, his lip drawing between his teeth as he takes in the sight of your confusion and weariness. 

There is no stalling further. His hand comes to the back of your head, bringing you back close again as he speaks over your shoulder. “I need to ask you something. Don’t be afraid to tell me the truth. Even if you think it will hurt me.”

“And if it will hurt me?”

“It’ll hurt more if I don’t ask it at all.” His chest beneath your cheek shudders with his exhalation, its wavering shaking you to your core as you realize it’s tinged with tears once he continues. “If someone walked in here that looked and sounded just like me, but they were inarguably an evil person… would you still want to stay with them?”

“Looks and sounds like you…?”

“If you couldn’t tell the difference, beyond the knowledge that for the entirety of their existence, so many of the actions they’d taken were for horrible, inexcusable reasons.”

It shouldn’t be a simple answer. The question he’s posed to you has so many layers despite its surface-level simplicity. But with the way he looks at you - wild, desperate, clinging to the hope for an answer that lets him stay close to you - it only takes you a moment to come to a conclusion that settles into place like a key turning a lock. Smooth, easy, with a satisfying click.

“Whoever that person might’ve been… they’re not who you are now.” His breath hitches, stilling under where you rest your head. Whether that’s the right answer or the wrong, you’re unsure, but you’re too far to backtrack now. “I know who you are. People are allowed to change, that’s just what humans do.”

“I’m not human.”

He’s not. He’s told you so himself that he was created, not born. But it’s easy enough to forget that fact when he’s here in front of you, trembling in your arms and clinging desperately to the normalcy you’ve unknowingly provided. The front he puts up is so convincing that you’re not sure it’s even false anymore - he’s experienced all there is to being a human.

“But you’re close enough, aren’t you? You laugh, and you hurt. You’re hurting right now. And the most important part of being a human is love.” Pulling back enough to look at him, to note the shine of tears and the harshness of his bite on his bottom lip to hide its quivering, you ask, “Do you feel love?”

“Yes. So much, it’s killing me.”

“Ah, you just need to let it out then. Of course, I’d stay with you. If it’s like you say, then there’s a long road ahead, and I’m happy to walk it with you, if you’ll let me.”

Choked laughter leaves him, high-pitched and disbelieving. It signals the floodgates of his tears falling, and he releases one arm from you to rub at his eyes to catch them before they fall. It’s a futile effort, one you’re happy to see, even as he surges forward to kiss you, wetting your cheeks with his own. 

Against your lips he murmurs, muffled and sloppy, “Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou-”

As if you would have left him after coming to know him like this. It only hurts for a second that the thought had even crossed his mind to doubt - and perhaps that doubt will creep back in over the coming days. When things are difficult or when stirrings of a life past-lived come back to rear its head, threatening the tenuous peace he’s found. 

There are times that he looks at you with eyes that aren’t as familiar. They’re darker, edged sharply, but it’s still him. A different facet shining in the light, but if you tilt your head, you can see the core of him that lies beneath. Still the same, no matter how he refracts it. As he comes and goes, it feels as if a new page turns each time - some new, some old. A wildness exists that seeps through, visible only when he holds you a little too tight, kisses you a little too hard. 

Unsteadiness is something he’s worn since the first day you’ve met him, and with the return of memories he’d lost, it doesn’t settle over him as often as it once had. Only when you notice the shift does he avoid your gaze, the sheepish little smile lifting the weight on your heart, and his in turn.

He’s trying. That’s enough, you think.

[kunikukitty]

[name]. second year student at vindagnyr international academy, major in psychology. has a burning hatred for men.

itto. second year student at via. the clown of the group, also the dumbest.

hu tao. second year student at via. always joke about her business, but meant no harm.

faruzan. second year student at via. also chosen to be a part of the exchange student program.

mona. second year student at via and an influencer. major in astronomy. the most closest to [name], besties since elem.

capitano. second year student at uzd. friends with the group since high school but he went to uzd for college and thus separated.

[quimichi]

↳ ❝ [ACCIDENTAL CONFESSION] ¡! ❞

↳ Chat: Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4

characters: Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Dottore, Kaveh, Lyney, Neuvillette and Kaeya x F!Reader