#genshin impact wanderer

[fentropy]

The Wanderer ♥

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[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.

[vivi-vovo]

Done!

[roccton]

ENDLESS

[emaiiyaru]

atoning for my (your) sins

[kusa-of-sumeru]

ꕤ Babysitting...? ꕤ

[azullumi]

trying different types of kissing with scaramouche?💔 like forehead, neck kisses, hand or anything at all....

“say yes to heaven” ; wanderer/scaramouche

summary — ultimately, he really does just want to be loved, behind the many layers of him to hide all that yearning and longing. but how can he say it when love, for him, was a synonym to forgiveness; alternatively, different kisses with him, with each one signifying a progressing relationship.

pairing — scaramouche/wanderer (w/ gender-neutral reader) ; could imagine this with either but i wrote this with wanderer in mind

tags — established relationship, fluff, a little bit of angst, not proofread, 1.1k ; ficlet

note — i needed an excuse to write a fic that is just all about kissing him and also comforting him (but still, i hope u like this nonnieee!!)

i. hand

You hold his hand and press small kisses on his knuckles, a little bit ticklish it was for him but he doesn’t retract. The feeling of it makes something in his chest ache with an unfamiliar sensation, and he knows it’s not his heart because he never had any.

You kiss the back of his hand, an intimate gesture, like devotion, like he was something—or someone—that should be adored.

“I am no god.” He was no deity to be worshiped so why are you so gentle to him? He wasn’t made of glass nor is he fragile; he was born from ashes of a burned home, he was carved out of war and winter storms and everything that you could ever pray against, he was a symphony composed of nothing but bad luck and conflicting melodies—he was not the kind people would choose to be around, much less adore.

And as if you bear a part of him in your mind, you understood what he was trying to say, could hear the questions that tormented him, could see the conflicted look on him as he looks at you with a gaze that seems to scrutinize your being when only he is looking for an answer. He tries to look for a crack, a gap in your expression, so that he can look through it and see what you’re really thinking.

“You don’t have to be one to be loved.” You press one last kiss on his hand just as you finished speaking, looking up to him. Indigo blue orbs met yours in a gentle gaze, eyes filled with affection only for the other to drown in. If he could put all that he was feeling, all that he was asking and seeking an answer to, into a simple word, it all condenses to: why?

“Do you still have doubts?” You ask, despite knowing the answer. He opens his mouth only to close it again, looking for the words that he should say but chose to be silent instead. And you smile—not a beaming grin nor a subtle paint on your features, but something gentle and comforting as if you’re assuring him: it’s okay, I understand you. I know you.

“You’re not unloveable.”

Loving him wasn’t the hardest thing to do, it came to you naturally as if breathing but the man thinks otherwise. A burnt child who loves the fire will only hear the fact that he is loveable, people just choose not to.

“How do you know that?” You know him well enough to hear the way his voice trembles at the effort to allow himself to be vulnerable. Long was the fall of the tall and formidable walls that he built around him.

“You’re not unloveable.” You repeat, taking hold of his fingers to kiss his hand once more. “Am I not enough proof of that?”

ii. forehead and cheeks

You cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead, an unspoken language of tenderness in which he took a long time to understand. When love and affection has finally been given to him after decades of yearning, he’s unsure of how to hold it in his hands—does he gently hold it with both? Every bit overwhelms him to the bone, the gratifying yet intense feeling seeps through his being and settles inside of him in a way that it slowly consumes the crevices of his mind, until all that is left of him is nothing but a starved man who only longs for the feeling of your skin against his own.

There was a flicker of warmth in his expression and he closed his eyes as he relished in your kindness, your hands cradling his cheeks with warmth that coaxed his entire existence, your lips pressing against his forehead softly. Then, you started to pepper his face with small kisses and the man could only surrender to your touch, a dance of vulnerability and intimacy as he crumbled into your hold.

No one has ever come this close to him (a closeness that was a stranger to the pages of his past, a tender note composed solely for him), no one and nothing.

You spoke, murmuring against his skin and close to his lips: “Sunshine.” Humor weaves through your tone, teasing the absurdity of the mismatched title and the man who wears it with subtle grace.

“Don’t call me that.” He snarks yet no bite. It’s ironically funny how you use that nickname on him despite him being the complete contrast of it; he stands as the living paradox of the word itself.

The sound of laughter bubbles up in your throat and you answer, “Why not? It suits you perfectly, don’t you think?”

What else should you call the man who grasps the warmth and tender light in his chest only the sun could give? To be with him was to sit in the autumn sunlight, to sleep in the comfort of your sheets when the rain patters against your window, to walk barefoot on the sand even if it feels like shards of glasses against your sole, to be with him was to simply exist; you’ve never met anyone who had the sun for a soul and he has never met anyone who had the stars in their eyes, and while you had the universe etched on the palm of your hands, he has your name engraved on his.

iii. lips

Your lips ghost against his own, albeit in a tantalizing manner, teasing and quite slow—but he wasn’t a patient man.

“Are you going to kiss me or what?” He whispers and you don't waver at his straightforwardness, having been used to this note. There was no hostility in his tone, just pure and raw desperation and desire to feel you.

You could imagine the eye roll he would give you had he not had his eyes closed at the moment, could imagine the frown on his expression while he spoke and could imagine it faltering soon when you finally kissed him, slow as if to savor the softness of his lips and how it reminds you of spring; he could not properly express the warmth on his chest at the thought of how you love him when he still tasted of heartache and war.

You part from him but remained close, foreheads pressed against one another, breathing heavily, and looking into each other’s eyes. You wanted to tell him that you will find him in every lifetime, but the silence between you two was enough to convey such strong affections that you could hear him respond: And I will love you in each one.

(And he somehow finds himself thinking at the same, this is what he deserves. He’d do these, these vulnerable moments where he lays himself bare for you to touch and hold even if you’ll see the scars and cracks on his skin, the falling and getting hurt despite the fear, the burning and constant searching for something, he’ll do it all over again—if it’s you.)

If someone were to ask him what forgiveness tastes like, he would utter your name—everything that he has ever longed for came in the form of you. And he fears that this longing will last forever even while you’re here, that this longing will grow even when he crumbles to dust, that this longing will outlive this body and weave life into the earth that swallows your existence.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[lumaere]

@eonsadrft wanted to see it drawn,

I deliver.

[erabu-san]

Cat feels safe 🥺

[notablenotation]

ONCE AGAIN. MY TERRIBLE TIME MANAGEMENT SKILLS RESULT IN ME PULLING AN ALL-NIGHTER TO FINISH A CONTEST ENTRY. FUCK

anyways, made this for track 1 of the fontainalia film festival poster contest hoyo was running. im never drawing shouki no kami ever again

[lenateliier]

Wanderer

[tricksrabbit]

Art by @evadudu 

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

[fran-aka-mak]

WANDERER

[[ ref ]]

❌pls no reupload

[sh1-n0bu]

You ever wonder about scara jerking himself off while you abuse his hole?

Just thinkin' ;)

♡︎ 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙞𝙩 ♡︎

characters: sub!scaramouche x nb!dom!reader

warnings: rough sex, creampie, overstimulation, dacryphillia, brat taming, mirror sex, cock can be interpreted as strap on - anything that’s comfy for u guys

notes: a biiiittt different than your og req but still the same thing, just a different tone. i hope you like the recipe! also it has been a while since i visited the sub genshin tags. hello my little horny goblins! have y’all missed me?/jk jk

what’s this???? nobu finishing up another req after publishing another one last night???? has she finally defeated writer’s block?????

“shlo-OOOUH! shlowerrrh~! [nam-] ca-aahnt!♡︎♡︎” letting out a guttural sob, scaramouche squirted all over his stomach again. he was being a little shit for the entire week - ruining your perfectly made cake, throwing tantrums like a kid, cussing you out when you forgot to give him his usual goodbye kisses before leaving for work. the list goes on and on.

and now when he’s met the consequences of his own actions he’s telling you to be gentle? after ruining the hard work you put in your cake’s icing? in his dreams.

the short man let out another choked scream when your cock hit his oversensitive prostate again, the plush soft muscle getting abused over and over ruthlessly by the tip of your cock repeatedly hitting them, clawing at your back with his blunt nails in a pathetic attempt to at least try and get you to slow down so he can properly breathe.

and it seems like his prayers were answered when you slowed down before stopping, the bruises formed by your hands’ rough grip on his waist making him let out a whine at the feeling, the bleeding bite marks left by your teeth still stinging so deliciously. the brat let out another whine when you pulled out of his hole, your cum flowing out of his loose hole and running down his plushy, hickey covered shaking thighs.

unfortunately the brat’s wishes didn’t last long when you manhandled his tiny body, turning him over with his back to your chest - looking straight at the full body mirror propped against the wall. everything looked so lecherous - from the sticky cum covering the insides of his thighs, the dark and blue hickeys on his neck and chest to the remains of his own fluids covering his tummy.

gosh scaramouche was completely ruined.

“[n-name] plea-ashee… n-no mowree~ sensitiIIGGH!!♡︎“ a shrill sound resembling a squeal left his lips when you slammed yourself all the way until the hilt back into him once more. small hands clenching and flexing, seemingly trying to grab ahold of something to try and get his fucked silly mind together again.

“‘m getting a bit tired kuni. so you gotta do some of the work too” guiding his one hand to his swollen, angry red cock you silently commanded him to stroke himself - which scaramouche understood. sloppily running his hand up and down on his cock, rubbing the slit wet precum filled tip with his thumb your sweet dumb boy just couldn’t help but let out another wail when you hooked your hands under his shaking legs and slammed him down to the rhythm of his strokes.

understanding the situation as much as his mushy brain could comprehend, scaramouche jerked himself off at a faster pace. hands stuttering with his tear stained eyes and flushed face looking directly at the mirror, the puppet could easily see your cock slipping in and out of his pink hole over and over. he was so tired - his tiny cock only managing to spill a small amount of cum as he spasmed through another orgasm yet you still didn’t stop.

after all someone’s gotta teach him how to stop being a brat right?♡︎

[n4391]

Here’s all of my Sumeru character illustrations so far! These are all available as prints at physical conventions exclusively!

[scarafvcker]

“i’ve got you” — A HALLOWEEN SPECIAL!! 👻🎃

synopsis: scaramouche couldn’t care less if he got fired (i.e. he fucks you while working as a scare actor)

cw: exhibitionism, little to no prep, creampie, overstimulation, predator/prey, voice kink, finger sucking, hickeys, lots of biting, pet names(bunny, baby), gn!reader

word count: 1400+

a/n: HAPPY HALLOWEEN GUYS!! genuinely tho idk why they started getting wild at the end 😨 i just blinked and all of a sudden i heard barking and growling and panting and

running through the claustrophobically narrow and dimly lit halls, you kept one hand grazing against the scratchy surface of the wall beside you to keep yourself stable. the sound of thumping behind you drew farther and farther as you hid in one of the rooms lining each side of the hallway. taking a quick glance around, you hoisted yourself onto the top of the fireplace right beside the door. the room was quiet save for the screams you could hear from outside the building, giving you a short chance to calm yourself and regain your bearings.

but from atop the fireplace, you could hear the quiet rattling from below, the sound causing your heart to quicken once again. you watched from above as a figure crawled out of the fireplace, their back towards you as they slowly stood up and turned their head from side to side. you quickly yet quietly shifted your legs off the fireplace before jumping at the figure, pushing them to the side as you drop to your knees and turn to crawl through the fireplace like they had done.

"ah, ah, ah.." the figure cooed, dropping to their knees to grab you by your waist, "not so fast, little bunny." their cold fingers managed to slip under your shirt, meeting your skin as they pulled you out of the fireplace. “you’re certainly a skittish one, aren’t you?” they chuckled deeply, a rush of heat flowing over your entire body, “no worries.” they lean in, their chest pushed against your back as they pin you to the floor and whisper into your ear, “i’ve got you.”

you try desperately to stifle the soft whimper that pulls itself from your lips as their warm breath tickles your ear and neck. their long and slender fingers snake down your sides until they rest at the waistband of your shorts and you could hear them let out a lustful groan, “bunny, what did i say about wearing shorts? it’s too cold out for them. look at you, you’re shivering.”

you want to open your mouth, to bite back, to reply with a sassy remark but as their cold hands grab at your waist again, you let out a soft squeak. “you’re not helping, y’know—your hands are so cold,” you huff.

“is that so? then allow me to fix that,” they chuckle, slowly moving one hand up your body as the cold tips of their fingers ghost over your skin before stopping right in front of your mouth. “warm my fingers up with that cute mouth of yours,” they chuckle once again, their cold fingers pushing its way into your mouth, “good bunny.”

you moan against their fingers, your tongue swirling over every inch of their skin and dipping in between each one to coat every surface in your saliva. the figure groaned at the feeling, taking their free hand to lift up their mask. as they kiss your jaw and neck, you catch a glimpse of their familiar face and subconsciously begin sucking their fingers with fervor. tossing the mask to the side, scaramouche hums idly as he sucks and licks your neck, leaving a couple of light red marks onto your skin. his free hand runs all over your body, groping every inch he could reach and pushing the fabric of your shirt up ever so slightly with each movement.

his fingers hooked into the waistband of your shorts, pushing them down along with your underwear. you let out a quiet gasp as you felt the cold night air meet your newly exposed ass. his fingers pushed into your tongue as he grumbled, “quiet. you don’t want people hearing us, right?” as you shook your head, he slipped his fingers out of your mouth and brought them down to ghost right over your hole.

you pushed back against his hand, begging quietly, “please, scara.. need your cock..”

“so needy already, huh? no worries, i’ve got you—i’ll always make sure my baby is satisfied,” he pushes aside the robe he was wearing, shoving his boxers down his thighs while his other hand wrapped around his hard cock. he used your saliva to lube his cock while using his free hand to press into your back slightly, making you arch just enough for him to have access to your hole. he spits onto you, smirking as you squirm at the feeling of his warm saliva slipping into your twitching hole while he brings his cock to you. rubbing himself against you, the tip manages to catch onto your hole with each stroke.

“please fuck me already,” you whisper, your hands shooting up to cover your mouth when he begins to push himself inside. the stretch is nearly unbearable but with how he groans behind you, you push your hips back in order to take more of him in.

he scoffs and pushes himself in until his hips are flush against your ass, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he bottoms out. his hands push into your back, making you arch some more as he starts fucking you with slow and deep thrusts. “fuck, baby.. so damn tight,” he grunts, pulling his cock out to the tip before slowly pushing back in until his hips meet yours with a soft slap.

with each thrust, your mind seems to numb until you’re moaning and gasping under him. he smirks at the sight of you getting fucked out on his cock, leaning down to rest his chest on your back. a hand grazes over your hair, pushing the strands away from your sweaty face so he can see that flushed and fucked out expression you wear. his hips move faster on their own, his teeth sink into your shoulder, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.. he loses himself in the moment—uncaring of the chatting from just outside the window, uncaring of the footsteps just outside the door, uncaring of the screams just down the hallway. the only thing he cared about right now was right in front of him—your tight little hole wrapped around his cock, the muffled moans you were trying your best to hide, the slapping of his hips on yours..

he knew he was gonna be fired after this but he just couldn’t help himself, his dick twitching and throbbing deep inside of you and his balls swelling and slapping against your skin. he lets out grunts and groans, his sounds getting louder and louder in your ear as he slowly fucks himself closer and closer to that amazing release. the sound alone causes your hole to throb and clench around him which earns a strained laugh from him, his chest vibrating against your back. he cuts himself off with a groan, biting into your shoulder harder when you clench impossibly hard around him.

you bite into your fist, trying your best to stifle the lewd gasp and whine that leave your mouth as you cum. scaramouche fucks into you faster than before, letting you ride out your high as he chases after his own. his sloppy thrusts seem to get louder and louder until the rhythmic slapping finally stops with one final thrust. he groans loudly, his voice strained and his vision blurred as he spills his cum deep inside of your twitching hole but he doesn’t pull out.

his hips halted for only a few seconds before picking up the pace again, leaving you to gasp and whine under him at the overstimulation. “scara!! too much,” you manage to speak through ragged breaths, your hands on his hips as you weakly try to push him away.

“no.. no, you can take it..” he grumbles, his voice raspy and laced with some animalistic desire that made you start fucking yourself back onto his cock, “let me fuck you, bunny. shit, you feel so damn good. can’t help myself around you.” he was fucking you with so much intensity, your stomach forming knots again and again with every thrust of his cock slamming deep into you. “yeah, that’s it—take it..” his voice seemed to get deeper and raspier as he continued fucking you, as if possessed by some sex-crazed animalistic demon, “take it, take it, take it.. take it, fucking take it!” with one last thrust, the two of you came together—your moans matching up perfectly as his hot cum filled you up once more.

only after he got a text from his boss did he finally pull out of you, not caring enough to check the message as he opens his camera and records you subconsciously pushing his cum out of your gaping, twitching hole.