#Genshin impact Scaramouche

[meowanian]

— scara is using his instagram account just to post you.

scara x female reader

[solitary-traveler]

Ascent to Oblivion part 1 - airborne embrace

The heart imposes how one should act. How they should feel. So how can a puppet constructed without a heart exhibit such distinct qualities?

Notes: This one is very self-indulgent. I swear I wish there was an option to catch him during this scene—

Warning: reader is not traveler btw, slight angst?

A heart is regarded as a mirror that reflects someone’s soul. A sovereign ruler that ordains decrees that the body is meant to follow. 

The heart imposes how one should act. How they should feel.

So how can a puppet constructed without a heart exhibit such distinct qualities?

He doesn't have a soul, nor a heart for that matter. Yet Scaramouche doesn’t fail to display the epitome of humanity. The emotions he claims are cursed act as a substitute; an artificial heart that ushers him in the direction of the deepest desires that he sought after. It spreads within his body like a burning infection, leaving a bitter taste of rage and fury that will never be quelled. Come hell or high water, his resolve never wavers. His ambition to prove to everyone that he is destined for more perseveres. He sprints to his goal like a marathon. To conclude his journey and prove to his mother that he has always been worthy of the gnosis.

That was your understanding of the 6th Harbinger, the Balladeer.

You stand beside the Traveler, along with the Archon of Wisdom you had liberated earlier. You encounter the rising "god" of Sumeru—the existence of who you know as Scaramouche—as he presents himself as the Shouki no Kami, the Prodigal, Everlasting Lord of Arcane Wisdom. A long drawn-out battle that persisted 168 loops before you and the Traveler snatch victory from the harbinger.

You were tired and on the verge of collapsing. Bruises and scars are scattered across every nook and cranny of your skin. Yet despite everything—every word, every truth, every lie—you can't bring yourself to hate him. 

You wanted to hate him.

But why couldn't you?

Was it because you felt pity? Because the solicitude of his sorrows softened the fortification encircling your heart? 

Or was it because sympathized with him? Maybe you too knew how it felt when the cruel jaws of life gnaw on the strings that control destiny, only to give birth to nothing but misery and hatred toward the world?

As you looked up, you saw the electro gnosis in Nahida's possession. The puppet yells, an anguished wail of cries as every word laced with desperation begs to have the gnosis back.

"No! Anything but the gnosis!"

"That's mine!"

It was strange. Watching someone like Scaramouche throw away their pride and dignity, just for one measly gnosis. A gnosis that shaped his entire identity. An item he's been promised when he was fabricated, a promise the Raiden Shogun never kept. 

Your heart throbs. Was this the one you were supposed to hate? A misguided child who grew up hating himself and everyone around him because of accidents he interpreted as his fault?

Scaramouche's slender arms extend to seize the gnosis, to grasp the adhesive that was holding up his fragmented individuality. One by one, the tubes embedded in him fracture. Pink liquid sloshed out like waves, smearing pigments on the platform. But he couldn't care less. He wanted the gnosis. He needed it. With a hushed click, your eyes widened.

He fell.

And you jumped.

Despite the burning sensation of the wounds you had accumulated from the puppet, you rise without hesitation as the overwhelming urge to catch him coursed through your veins. You create a whirlwind that propels you in his direction, with the aid of your anemo vision. Time itself decelerates as you can only hope to reach him. You were praying to any go out there that you haven't miscalculated.

One.

Your arms wrap around Scaramouche, cradling him closely to you. You caught him. Thank the archons you caught him. 

Two.

You were to land swiftly on the ground—but having exerted the last of your energy—your touchdown wasn't as smooth or graceful as you had hoped. Your feet slipped, causing you and the harbinger in your arms to skid towards the rubble of rocks. Even then, you squeezed him tightly, not wanting to let go.

Three.

A deafening crash resounds in the domain as you smash into the massive debris. But your clutch doesn't waver. You held the puppet in your arms, a testament of your newfound will to protect him. To keep him safe. You could no longer watch him be cheated out of everything good. He deserves some peace, a tranquility you were willing to give. In spite of your best efforts to remain awake and asses how Scaramouche was faring, your brain started to deprive you of your consciousness.

Four.

A hand clutches your clothes firmly, as you feel the cold porcelain pressed against your skin. Before you collapse into an unconscious state, you overhear a broken sob. A sound only those with a shattered soul can let out.

Taglist for part 2 is open btw!

[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.

© kaeyaphile | tamrielic – please do not modify, repost, plagiarize and/or claim any of my work as your own and please do not promote any of my works on other social media platforms (tiktok, facebook, wattpad, etc.)

[scarafvcker]

synopsis: scaramouche always has a way of getting what he wants

cws: dubcon, coercion, “just the tip”, creampie, afab!reader

word count: 900+

scaramouche’s eyes couldn’t stay on one spot, flickering all over the place to take in as much of your form as possible. he wasn’t sure how the two of you had ended up like this but he sure as hell isn’t complaining, especially not after he’s spent years fantasizing about this very moment. all those nights of slipping a mirror through the tiny crack under your door, all those nights of resting his ear against the thin wall of your room, all those nights of waking up in a sweat drenched shirt and cum stained shorts.

it’s better than anything his twisted little mind could’ve thought up—you sound better than he imagined, you looked better than he imagined, you taste better than he imagined. and he’s certain you’ll feel better than he imagined as well. with the base of his cock rubbing against your slick folds, he can feel the way your puffy cunt keeps twitching and throbbing around nothing and he’s so tempted to just push it in. you wouldn’t mind, right? he’s already made you cum three times, surely you can let him have the same delicious release! doesn’t matter that you think he’s too thick, he deserves this.

he presses his pretty, pink tip into your hole, his greedy eyes locked onto the way it stretches open for him. “baby, even your pussy wants me to put it in,” he coos, looking back up to your face, “c’mon, please?” he can see the hesitation in your features as if you’re considering it but what’s there to consider? just let him fuck you already—it’ll feel good, he promises! he slides his tip upward, rubbing and tapping it against your swollen clit a few times before slowly tapping it up and down the entirety of your vulva and making sure to amplify the pressure just a tiny bit whenever his tip knocks against your opening. “just the tip? is that okay, baby? lemme just put the tip in.”

you give him a hesitant nod and he’s immediately tapping his tip against your hole again, eyes glued onto the thin strings of your slick that connects him to you. he feels like he’s drooling just as much as your pussy is as he watches your cunt suck him in a tiny bit only for him to pull right back out. the sounds of your wetness causes you to tighten up, forcing him to groan when your walls shut around the very tip of his cock, “f-fuck, baby.. ‘m sorry.”

you’re too fucked out to register his words, the feeling of your pussy being stretched out little by little as he slowly fucks more and more of his tip into you feels so good it numbs your mind. he looks down, admiring the way his tip is entirely hidden inside you for a moment before pulling out and slowly pushing back in, the action being repeated and forming a creamy ring around the area just under his tip. “baby..” he groans softly, looking back up at you to see your glazed-over eyes. you’re completely fucked out just from his tip alone and he can’t help his urges anymore.

with each draw of his hips as he pulls himself out from you, he slowly pushes himself in more and more. watching as more of his cock disappears into your cunt, the creamy ring from earlier slowly creeping down his shaft, his hands find purchase on your waist in a greedy attempt to slowly pull your hips closer to his until eventually your skin meets his own.

you’re only able to utter out a soft mewl, pressing your hands against his stomach in a poor attempt to push him away but he gently guides your hands above your head and holds you by your wrists. “shh, my love—don’t you like it? my cock feels just as good as your pussy,” he coos, an innocent look in his eyes. he deserves this, don’t you think?

too fucked out—your mind and judgment clouded by the pleasurable fullness his cock gives you—you let out one final whine and go slack under him, no longer struggling against him as he brings his hips back only to push back in. a breathy gasp leaves your mouth, a shaky groan leaving his as he pushes himself all the way in to kiss your cervix. leaning down, scaramouche takes your lips into a sloppy kiss as his hips start their own pace, his cock rapidly rubbing against your walls as he fucks you.

you cry into the kiss, the gasps and whines matching each of his thrusts as the pain slowly subsides into pleasure until eventually your mind buzzes with pure ecstasy. your vision blurs as scaramouche continues to fuck you brainless, his smirk going unnoticed by you as you lose your mind on his dick—the pleasure completely obliterating your judgement.

“fuck, your pussy is begging me to cum inside and who am i to deny?” he chuckles at the way you’re too fucked out to register his words, picking up his pace as you twitch and cream around his cock until he gives you one last thrust. his cock slams roughly into you and poking into the entrance of your womb as his cum spills and fills you deliciously yet you’re still too much of a mess to respond. he’s sure you won’t mind though—he does deserves this afterall.

[cilorine]

"Don't you think The Balladeer's a bit of a walking contradiction? He's always talking back, but he seems to listen to what you say...” - Paimon  He basically acts like a cat it’s so funny

[emaiiyaru]

atoning for my (your) sins

[ventique-genshin]

Birthday

Repost from last year

[Platonic]

[kusa-of-sumeru]

ꕤ Babysitting...? ꕤ

[rewuyuu]

[lumaere]

@eonsadrft wanted to see it drawn,

I deliver.

[erabu-san]

Cat feels safe 🥺

[candlenekra]

I can see the Aranara similarities, Hoyo! You can’t fool me!

[lenateliier]

Wanderer

[tricksrabbit]

Art by @evadudu 

https://twitter.com/kakaolikeslegs/status/1656631792030425091

[ventismacchiato]

SCARAMOUCHE INSTAGRAM STORIES

established relationship, gender neutral reader, modern au where he’s a singer/idol, you’re an actor in this and his partner that he’s publicly in a relationship with

so how y’all doing…i fear the scara obsession is back. (it never left) inspired by me going to the guts tour and seeing louis attending his popstars gfs show. also! i think scara would be chronically online and love his fans like bro went insane over having one in the game LIKEEE

[fran-aka-mak]

WANDERER

[[ ref ]]

❌pls no reupload