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#scaramouche x reader modern au
lovinggstar · 4 months
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# JEALOUSY ★ !!
— where one of their friends get too close to you, and their reactions !
cw :: not proofread, MAY BE OOC NOT SURE, written with modern au in mind (but it can be read in the genshin universe ^_^) the tiniest bit suggestive in childes part, use of childe's real name in his part, swearing in scaramouche's part, fluff, gn reader !
characters :: albedo, childe, scaramouche
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阿贝多 ALBEDO :: everytime his friend would sit next to you really close, everytime his friend would put his arm around your shoulder, everytime his friend would talk to you a little too much, he kept his composure. or atleast, he was subtle about his jealousy.. he would put the mug on his table a bit too hard, causing a sound enough to alert people, he would be passive aggressive towards his friend, he would interrupt conversations towards you and his friend (which he almost never does with anyone else because he knows his manners), etc. after the hangout with albedo's friend, he goes up to you and hugs you from behind. "oh? what's this for?" you question him, although you enjoy this, you're curious why the sudden backhug is given to you. albedo hides his face into your neck, "mh.. let's stay like this for a while."
公子 CHILDE :: ever since childe introduced you to his friend, you started talking about them alot to him because you think that the more you and childe have in common, the better ! but childe is more jealous than ever..
"oh and then THEY said that i—" "stop talking about themm.." he murmured to hinself, pouting, however, you heard it. "huh?" you look at him, confused, childe starts stammering, noticing his mess-up. "ajax.. are you jealous?" you smirk at him, it's not everyday you see him stammering like this. "alright, alright.. you caught me." he put his hands up in defense, "awhh c'monnn, you know i'd never be with another guy!" you playfully hit him in the arm, but to your surprise, he caught your hand as you were doing it, and raises it up to his cheek, "i was just jealous, i know that i can make you feel good more than he can." he smirked playfully at you trying to get a reaction from you, "i'm not going to teucer's mr. cyclops themed birthday party." "WAIT NO—"
国崩 SCARAMOUCHE :: he would outright be the pettiest, in denial little fucker ever. he would go "tch, i don't care." and proceed to be ripping out paper napkins to shreds to control his anger. "scaraaa..." you lazily put his arms around his neck, "yeah?" as he said that, there was a bigggg rip on the napkin. "why are you soooo.. mad? sad?" you questioned his emotions, confused at whatever he's feeling. "i'm" riiippp "not." "oh? are you maybeee, jealous?" you smirked, laying your hand next to his by putting your head on his shoulder. "what!? hah—wh— NO.. me? being jealous? in your dreams.." he stammered and contiued grumbling under his breath. "scara, y'know i love you and only you, right?" you told him, nevertheless, he was still persistently pouting. but red.
you heard him mumble something under his breath, "hm? what is it?" he mumbled again but louder. "what?" you were there confused and wondering what he needed to say. he mumbled AGAIN. "huh????" you knew what he said now, still, you wanted to tease him, "I SAID I LOVE YOU TOO, GOD DAMMIT." he finally huffed, realizing that he screamed that, he covered his mouth, and was red. "i know !!" you slyly smiled and kissed him on the cheek, "i just wanted to hear you say it !"
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note :: i tried doing more chars but im currently not in that much of a mood to write + THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS FOR AGEESSS
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mizukimoriko · 1 year
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Number Neighbors
Scaramouche / Wanderer X Gender Neutral! Reader Modern AU Slowburn
In Which You find Your future Boyfriend because you were number Neighbors!
Summary: You were bored, so you decided A random stranger that is your number Neighbor that also happens to be your Future boyfriend.
Warnings : Profanity / Swearing, Death Threats ( Kys )
I think that's it?
Let's Go !
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2nd Person
You sighed as you scrolled down in tiktok, Dying of boredom because nothing piqued Your interest.
It was currently 8:21 PM, and you just Finished eating dinner.
You cracked a small smile when you see a Slightly funny tiktok video, but not enough To make you laugh so hard that you were Gonna fart.
Suddenly you got an idea to do a prank to a Random stranger, thinking of talking to your Number neighbor.
You get on your contacts app and started to Type your number but made the last Number greater then your number.
You tapped your phone and started typing.
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You
Nellow
I am ur number nigeht
Neighbor*
Sry typo bc I wanted so badly to talk to u 😏
Heyo 🤩
Yo 😍
Talk sum smth 🥰
Hello person?
I am ur number neighbor talk to me
I brought u pie 🥧🙂
HEY
Wow
Guess my neighbor doesn't even want to talk to me 😞
Unknown
That's right and stfu
Friendless lmfaoo
You
YOU RUDE BITCH
I am NOT FRIENDLESS unlike u 😒
How u talk to ur neighbor like that 😤
U r not gonna talk to me like that 😚
Unknown
I do have friends u moron.
And idc if we're "number neighbors"
wtf even is that.
You
Ugh wtv u rude bastard 😒
Also number neighbors is like having neighbors but it's in numbers so there u have it u idiot 😙
Unknown
Don't call me an idiot u midget 💀
And u don't even explain it right 😐
U can't even win an argument
SKILL ISSUE
You
I DO NOT have a sjill issue u dumb clown
Unknown reacted with 🧢
I am NOT good at explaining things ☹️
Wat can I call u btw
Unknown
Skill*
Ur proving ur self that u have a skill issue
lmaooo
You
Just answer my question u lying idiot
I DON'T NOT have a skill issue
Unknown
U do realize that "don't " have do not in it?
Do + not = Don't
URE SUCH A MASSIVE IDIOT
You
SHUT UR OOMPA LOOMPA ASS UP
I DIDN'T REALIZE OKAY? 😓
Be easy on ur future lover 🥰😚😍
WAT CAN I CALL U BRO
I'm gonna call u Asshole
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You changed unknown's
Name to Asshole
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You
There 🤭
Asshole
I am not an asshole😐
I am Scaramouche.
You
What the fuck is theat name
Why is it so long
Is it long like ur di-
🤭
Wtv I'm still keeping the name
It suits u ❤
N ur name is so hard to spelel
Scaramonthe
That's ur name
Also u didn't deny that in gonna be ur future lover 🥰
Hehehehehehehe
That's sounds like a boys name to
R u hot🥵
Asshole
Kys.
Yes I am hot 😐
You
OMG OMG
SEND PICS RN
OR ELSE U AIN'T HOT
PLS 😍😍
GIVE UR FUTURE LOVER A SNEAK PEEK OF UR HOTNESS PLEASE
Wait
How old r u? 🤨
I'm scared I'm texting a 70 yr grandpa to send pics 😰
Asshole
Im 18 😐
I'm not gonna send u pics u pervert
You
I'm not a pervert 🤨
I just wanted to see u if ur hot 🤭
There's a difference 😏
Omg ur 1 yr older then me
I'm 17
Also I'm Y/N 🥰
Asshole
Who asked?
You
Damn rude much
Ur making me angry kitten 🐺😡🐱
UR SINKING MY CLOTHESSS 😡😡😡
*transfroms to alpha bad boy wolf*
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Asshole
Wtf.
Kys.
Ur so weird.
You
Judgemental bitch 😒
U don't even have humor 😐
Asshole 😒
Asshole
I have humor and it's actually good unlike
urs 😐
Ugh.
I gtg.
——————————————————————
Asshole changed your name
To Weirdo
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Weirdo
BYE SCARAMOUCHIE 😘😊😍😍😘🥰🥰
OMG I'M NOT A WEIRDO U MORON
I AM NOT 😡😡
Read 10:09 PM
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Your POV
2nd Person
You realized the digits on your screen.
* Almost 2 hours? Damn. *
You thought, realizing that you were talking For almost 2 hours straight.
Slightly annoyed that Scaramouche named You as Weirdo, but you guess you shouldn't Take it personally because you had a feeling That he's rude to everyone.
You went back scrolling on tiktok, Boredom Begins to fade in when you scrolled to the 32th Video.
* I hope he talks to me tomorrow. *
A pink tint appearrd in your cheeks, Your Cheeks heating up by the thought of Scaramouche.
Quickly slapping yourself in your mind Because of that embarrassing Wish.
Deciding to move on from this, you Continued scrolling.
But you were still blushing.
——————————————————————
Scaramouche's POV
3rd Person
The reason he ended your conversation, Was because he didn't wanna talk to you Anymore.
He rolled his eyes when his mom, Ei, began to scold him for being on his phone all day.
" At least spend some time with us. " Ei Said, The last thing scaramouche heard Before he zoned out completely not caring For his mom's opinions on him.
As he began to think about random things, He began to think about you.
A feeling rose in his stomach, a feeling of warmth.
Scaramouche doesn't know of what you Had done to him but he's afraid to admit That he likes it.
He decided he was gonna be meaner to You,Putting his feelings aside.
He started to regret of ending your Conversation.
Deep down, he already knew he fell for you.
But he wasn't gonna admit it until he see You in the after life.
He promises to himself that he will never Tell anyone about this.
Well, how could he break a promise to Himself?
He broke his promise months later when You finally see him face-to-face.
——————————————————————
The End, Or is it?
AN : Might make a part 2 or not 🤭
GOOD BYE!
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hitomisuzuya · 5 months
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HAISS JIII HII !!! Scara eating shy reader out and she keeps trying to muffle her moans or squeeze her legs shut but scara doesn't want that (he wants to hear her and he like spreads her legs)
also tongue perusing scara duh 🙏
Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Cunnilingus. Scara with a tongue piercing 😳 Minor degradation.
You guys really like when I write Scara with a tongue piercing. I don't blame you. And thank you so much! 🥺
Scaramouche's hands caressed you hips, dipping his tongue between your folds to tease the ball of his tongue piercing on your clit. Jolts of pleasure tingled your spine, your teeth biting your lower lip as your clit swelled and throbbed from his ministrations.
As hard as he was from how good you tasted, there was something that irked him. You were swallowing your noises. He nudged his nose against your clit, licking a line down your cunt to plunge his tongue inside of you.
He made sure you felt every drag of his piercing along your sensitive walls. He wanted you to be loud for him. He needed you to scream and writhe, bucking your hips up into his mouth while he reduced you to sobbing mess.
Your back arched off the bed, your cheeks flushing as you struggled to hold back your moans. He batted your hand away tried to cover your mouth, glaring at you in warning. "Fucking moan for me," He commanded, sending a shiver up your spine.
Scaramouche vibrated a moan on your clit, "Scream for me, slut," He latched his lips around your clit. He sucked on it, scraping the ball of his piercing, drool pooling between your legs. He was driven with the intent to make you moan.
Your hands found the back of his head, pressing his mouth onto your cunt. You tugged on his hair, earning him an audible gasp of pleasure. You bucked your hips up into his mouth, writhing as you tried to close your legs around his head.
Scaramouche pried your legs apart, kitten licking his piercing on your clit before pushing his tongue back inside of you. Long, slow licks made your walls clamp tight, your fingernails digging into his scalp to ground yourself.
"More, more, more," You chanted, unable to contain your moans anymore. He moaned in bliss listening to you finally apart. He held your cunt against his mouth, his licks and sucks ravenous and encouraging you to cream on his tongue.
Scaramouche relished in every scream that tore from your throat when you squirted. There was nothing more satisfying to him.
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aestherin · 1 year
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— KEEP MY HEART ♡
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scaramouche x f!reader social media au
SUMMARY — you find plenty of guys around you attractive, but there is only one you’re willing to make the first move on: the guy you first saw during your older brother’s soccer game. spoiler: he's a player from your rival university.
status: on-going | taglist: closed
genres: social media au, college au, strangers to lovers, crack, fluff, a sprinkle of angst (?), modern au, i wanted to do smth chill haha
extras: kmh playlist is still a wip, but if you're interested in checking it out, [click here] 🤍
author's notes:
omg 2nd smau is here!!
updates may be inconsistent, i don't have a posting schedule
again, idk what i'm doing haha
english is not my first language so expect grammatical and typographical errors (bear with me please :"D)
will contain swearing
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PLAYERS.
— SL4YERS — the reds — the blued
SCOREBOARD.
game start ! (prologue)
— FIRST HALF
goal 01. i feel something ¬ goal 02. live a good life goal 03. let's play chess ¬ goal 04. do you like cats goal 05. a proof to your claim ¬ goal 06. am i being rejected goal 07. my baby ¬ goal 08. happy birthday goal 09. do you like sweets ¬ goal 10. i'm loyal, sir goal 11. my name ¬ goal 12. ghosted goal 13. unbothered ¬ goal 14. stupid is the new sexy goal 15. call me baby ¬ goal 16. i'm taking you out goal 17. kuni
— HALF TIME
goal 18. i can teach you ¬ goal 19. one thing goal 20. home ¬ goal 21. available for sale goal 22. welcome ig ¬ goal 23. note to self goal 24. tba ¬ goal 25. it was boring goal 26. tba ¬ goal 27. tba
— SECOND HALF
tba
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TAGLIST I @lady-elodie @aiikalvr @lovely-althxa @unsterblich-prinz @xiaosonlybeloved @xiaomainlmao @cindywasneverhere @coquettemaiden @sunsethw4 @lunavixia @calickoh @arealistonao3 @lowkeyivorie @zyilas @mondaymelon @yukiipc @heartswonder @st0pthatsgay @ozzierenato @astreaa-express @shewolfmiko @lovelyycherries @myaaones @countessqin @aloveablechaos @letthewindlead @lunaavity @local-blueberry-boy @luminestars @layla240 @useless-potatho @atlaszi @alatusorrow @lahsram2201 @sakiimeo @user11918163805279 @vqazx @neigesprincess @kunicrush @yoursockstinks @hotgirlshit5 @mikctp @crucnhice @apotatouwu @yuaenri @sammybeefangirls @miko1ly @deffenferofjustice @etherisy @sagegreenthinks
i cant mention more than 50 people in one post so the other taglists will be in the reblogs instead!! 🤍
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abyssruler · 1 year
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the 7-eleven diaries
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albedo, alhaitham, childe, scaramouche, venti x gn!reader
your job isn’t the best one out there, but it’s easy and keeps you from drowning in tuition fees and rent. working at a 7-eleven on a midnight shift was supposed to be peaceful, so why is it that you constantly find yourself being bothered by weird customers? (modern au)
fluff, comedy, crack, cashier employee reader, modern au, written for fluffvember!
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ALBEDO
It’s difficult not to take notice of the perpetually tired college student (much like yourself) who always comes at the latest hours to order a cup of black coffee and a can of beer. The first time you saw him order that drink was a memorable one, if only because of the way your eyes had nearly popped out of their sockets when you saw him mix the two drinks in a large, empty slurpee cup and proceed to drink it all in a matter of seconds.
Another memorable time was when he came in with only enough money to buy a bottle of water, then took a seat at a table near the counter and took out a box full of what you initially presumed were cookies. It was a traumatizing memory you look back on with a shudder as you remember the way he crunched down on it like it was a piece of biscuit instead of a motherfucking spider.
“They’re surprisingly nutritional, full of protein and fibre. It leaves a strange aftertaste, but it’s a good substitute for dinner.”
Since then, you’ve made sure to keep some food ready in the microwave for him, free of charge. He just looked so pitiful sitting by himself with dark under-eyes and greasy hair — the very image of a normal college student — that you couldn’t help yourself from taking money out of your own pocket to help a fellow comrade.
One day, he came to the store with blown pupils and a sort of dazed look in his eyes, words slurring together as he tried to explain to you how he’s finally created an edible liquid that can keep sleep at bay for at least 120 hours…with some small side-effects, but it’ll wear off with time. That’s when you found out he was a bio-chemistry student well on his way to getting a PhD at his young age.
When questioned why he drank the liquid instead of having someone else do it, his response was, “To experience it firsthand, of course. The basis of research is accuracy and precision, how could I be remiss as to leave such an important experiment to someone who could, in their ignorance, fail to mention an important detail that their mind might have labeled as useless.”
You’re not quite sure how he’s still alive by this point.
But his weirdness aside, you resolve to take care of him in your own way, from a fellow tired college student to another. You remind him to get some sleep, steering him away from eating spiders and encouraging him to eat more meat.
“But I am eating meat?”
“Albedo, that’s a spider.”
“And are you saying that spiders do not possess meat?”
“Oh, for the love of—just eat the goddamn sandwich.”
You think he appreciates it, if the way he dedicated his latest thesis to you is any indication.
ALHAITHAM
You were in the middle of answering a math problem your professor assigned that morning, papers sprawled over the counter with you hunched over it, hand in your hair and trying not to pull at it in frustration over how difficult the problem was. And then he’d come in like an angel, all perfectly shiny hair and a no-nonsense look on his face, took one look at you and the papers scattered across the counter and said one sentence that saved your grade in math.
“You forgot to put a negative sign right there.”
That was the moment you decided that he must be an angel sent from heaven. He always grunts whenever you call him that, though whether it’s from amusement or annoyance remains to be seen.
He doesn’t visit the convenience store much, but when he does, he always spares the time to help you out with whatever assignment you were working on, sometimes even taking the initiative of asking if you need his assistance in answering a problem — though he says this on a much less nicer tone.
“Are you gonna make me do your homework again?”
“My professer didn’t assign me one today, surprisingly enough, so no.”
He seemed strangely disappointed when you told him no, but you chalked it up to him being some sort of math wiz who gets riled up by equations and the like. Seems like kind of guy too, what with all the times he’s made a subtle jab at your intelligence — or lack, thereof.
“How could you possibly need a paper to calculate the answer to four-hundred and thirty-two times fifty-eight?”
“Not all of us are smarter than Rukkhadevata like you.”
“Who?”
He’s not bad company, though that opinion stems solely from the fact that he helps you (solves it for you, more like) with all your homework. Not without making comments about you lazing about on the job and letting your customer answer your assignment for you. You respond in a mature way by making fun of him.
“I’ve never seen you without those earphones. Are you hiding a pair of large ears or something?”
“No.”
He refuses to elaborate more on the subject.
Sometimes you give him a drink, usually cola or juice, as thanks for helping you out. He takes it without question, taking sips from it as he tutors you about this and that, occasionally commenting about your job and how you’re only making yourself suffer by taking on midnight shifts. You don’t see why he cares. For all that you jokingly call him an angel, you know he’s far from actually being one.
You once saw him on campus reading a book by the library. It’s easy enough to come up to him and make conversation, handing him an unopened drink you just bought from a vending machine. It just feels wrong not to, more of a habit by this point.
It’s then that someone decides to dramatically drop his books to the ground and point at you and Alhaitham. The blonde guy gapes and asks how in the world Alhaitham managed not to scare you away. His eyes zero in on the can of grape juice on Alhaitham’s hand, and then he proceeds to laugh, asking Alhaitham since when did he decide to start drinking what he once called was an unhealthy drink composed of sugar and artificial flavoring.
You made a mental note of that response, and later that night, you decide to hand him a packaged biscuit. Nothing unhealthy there. Technically.
“Good. I was beginning to wonder if I should start taking medicine in case my stomach burst from the amount of cola you hand me.”
“You could’ve just not accepted, you know.”
“It was given to me. Not accepting would be considered rude.”
“Didn’t Kaveh say you threw a bottle of orange juice to his face after he gave you one?”
“I did.”
He refuses to elaborate more on the subject, but you’ve since resolved to only give him the healthiest thing you could find on the store—which isn’t much considering this is a 7-eleven, but hey, microwaved salad is still salad, right?
He grumbles about the radiation but eats the salad anyway. Another win for you, you suppose.
CHILDE
He came in near the end of your shift, lips busted and an eye swollen shut, blood splattered all over his clothes. The grin on his face should’ve hinted you at his lunacy, but you’ve always been blind to warnings and the like, so you went over the counter and helped him up from where he’s slumped over the chips and candies isle.
Aether, your co-worker and the one who’s about to take over from your shift, only looked at you with tired eyes, “It’s too early for this shit.” That was, of course, Aether’s way of basically saying, you’re on your own.
So you picked up the ginger lying on the linoleum floors, heaving his arm over your shoulder to drag him to the nearest pharmacy — never let it be said that you were just a bystander. He groaned as the movement bothered whatever injuries he may have, but he still looked at you with wide, strangely lightless eyes, as if only now registering your presence, and said, “Holy shit, you’re hot.”
After you finished dumping him on the pharmacy and leaving the people there baffled at what to do with an injured guy, he grabbed your wrist and, with a bloody smile he probably thought was charming, handed you a piece of paper containing his number.
You never text him. Or call.
He comes back to the store a week later with faint yellow bruises across his face and a far too bright grin for someone who’s visiting a 7-eleven at two in the morning. He pouts about not getting a single text from you, but before you can respond, he’s moving on to another topic, mindlessly picking up a box of tampons by the side and setting it on the counter.
He only seems to realize what he’s done when you give him a strange look.
“Tampons are, uh, great for bloody noses!”
“…Right.”
You weren’t convinced at all, but you decided to let it slide. He seemed like a genuine guy, if a bit too enthusiastic sometimes. His mouth never shuts ups, always going on about this and that, asking all sorts of questions that would’ve normally had most normal people backing away. But your brain isn’t exactly at its best condition and being sleep deprived for the better part of your life has made it less of a brain and more of an organ that just helps you get through the day.
You don’t know exactly why he stays to chat with you, buying ridiculous amounts of stuff that were frankly far too expensive just to have an excuse to talk to you. You don’t mind it much, especially when he’s a great deterrent for any unwanted petty thieves or middle school delinquents trying to rob your store every week or so.
Apparently, he’s got a reputation for being a bit of an adrenaline junkie and being willing to fight anything and everything that breathes. And apparently, word’s gotten out that he’s into you, like, really into you, so most guys who have less-than-well intentions have decided that robbing the local 7-eleven isn’t worth the trouble if it means having to deal with Ajax.
“Actually, it’s Tartaglia.”
“Tarantula?”
“No, Tartaglia. It’s my street name! Ajax just doesn’t inspire the same fear into other people’s hearts the same way Tartaglia does.”
“Whatever you say, Tortilla.”
“It’s Tartaglia!”
He never brings up the fact that you never call or text him back, even when he’s somehow gotten ahold of your number and started sending you memes and updates about his day. When asked, he just shrugs and says he’ll win you over eventually.
SCARAMOUCHE
It wasn’t intentional, and you’ll admit it was completely your fault, but did he have to be such an asshole about you dozing off on the counter?
“Have the standards really fallen so low that employees are now afforded to sleep on the job?”
Here was this guy at two in the morning, bemoaning society’s failure in raising the new generation to have a proper work ethic at a 7-eleven store. The guy had a rolex watch and clothes that looked like they were worth more than your monthly salary — you’re not one to judge other people’s appearances, but he’s the very image of nepotism. And frankly speaking, you’re of the opinion that rich people shouldn’t be entitled to an opinion on what the working class decides do with their life, like falling asleep on the job.
…And oh, you just said that out loud, didn’t you?
Oh well, your manager will understand.
The guy with a bowl cut leaves fuming, but not before slapping a wad of cash down the counter to pay for his stupidly expensive noodles, snarling at you to keep the change since you clearly need it more than him.
You do, in fact, keep the change. Money is money, whether it’s from your salary or a rich boy throwing a tantrum.
The next day in class, a bag slams down the seat beside you, and you’re met with the same rich boy from last night, a scowl painting his rather pretty face as he hisses lowly about how he’s surprised you can afford to go to college. Talk about holding a grudge, you would’ve forgotten all about him from last night if he hadn’t given you his change.
He fumes even more when you don’t give him any sort of reaction, merely nodding your head at him and turning back to the board to listen to your professor drone on about this and that. It’s rather difficult to focus, however, when he keeps muttering sarcastic comments and barbs to the teacher beneath his breath.
“If you even had an iota of charm about you, perhaps your wife wouldn’t have filed for a divorce.”
You choked on a laugh, hand coming up muffle the sound, but he clearly noticed, judging by the way he snaps his head to you, eyes wide and seemingly surprised you found it funny. You only smile at him, an amused little thing, but he quickly looked away and murmured something unintelligible beneath his breath, his fists clenched and the tips of his ears curiously pink.
He comes back to visit your job that night, still with that air of haughtiness about him but a bit toned down. Even more surprising was the fact he didn’t immediately leave the moment he handed you his money.
“Do you want the change?”
“Are you so desperate for money that you’d go begging a total stranger for some spare coin?”
“I mean, yeah, I guess.”
“Tch, fine. You can have it.”
He never fails to come back every night, always giving you the change for his bill, even when the amount is more than the items he paid for. Sometimes, he’ll even take out a snack or a drink from the bag and slide them over to you, cheeks suspiciously red as he did so.
“Don’t think this means anything. I’m only giving this to you because I know you can’t afford it.”
“It’s literally worth ten mora.”
“Would it kill you to at least give me a thank you?”
“Thank you, Kunikuzushi. I’ll be sure to treasure this can of cola that I would’ve never been able to afford without your help.”
“Shut up.”
He buys you a tub of ice cream the next night, the ridiculously expensive kind, to prove a point. The two of you eat it together at one of the tables, him grumbling about the stain on the table and the overall lack of quality and taste — at a 7-eleven — and you laughing whatever he says.
Well, you suppose he’s not as much of an asshole as you initially assumed.
VENTI
He’s a bit popular in campus, in the sense that nearly everyone is friends with him, which makes it impossible not to have heard about that one guy who’s really great at singing. You were, unfortunately, one of the few that aren’t well acquainted with him — aren’t acquainted with him at all.
So when he comes up to the counter, all boyish grin and ridiculously short shorts and a cute little pink hair clip keeping his bangs away from his face, holding an entire household’s worth of vodka and wine, you do what any rational semi-adult would do and look at him with a blank face.
“Are you even old enough to drink?”
He laughs at you like this is a common occurrence he faces on the daily before slapping down his ID on the counter. And huh, would you look at that, he’s even older than you are.
He then lights up once he gets a good look at you. “Hey, you’re Albedo’s friend, aren’t you?” He abandons his alcohol at the counter in favor of looking around your quaint little convenient store. “So this is that 7-eleven he keeps talking about…”
You’re not exactly sure what he’s going on about, but you do know he must be a friend of Albedo’s, which makes you ease up around him. He’s nice. Sort of. If you ignore the teasing and the jokes and the way he keeps asking you to give him a student discount. For alcohol. You’d given him what you hoped was your best imitation of Kunikuzushi’s stink eye. You think you got it on point, if the way he deflates is any indication.
He comes around the store every weekend, saying he’s here to get a little treat for the awful weekday he’s had. You never fail to remind him that he has class every Sunday, to which he responds by opening a can of beer (which he hasn’t paid for yet) and sitting on the counter, bemoaning the injustice of putting classes during the weekends.
You once asked him why he keeps hanging around this store when there’s a perfectly good bar right around the corner, owned by that popular red-haired business major from your university. Venti just laughed and said he prefers the quietness here — and the company, he added with a wag of his eyebrows. He always teases you, sometimes borderline flirting, but it’s easy enough to wave it away.
The day you discovered he was actually well known in campus was when your university hosted a local event. There’d been stalls and booths set up everywhere and even a little mock-stage put up near the center for any band or singer to perform in. It’d been nice to have a break from the monotonous routine of going to class and studying then working at your job and getting less than ideal sleep.
And then you heard your name booming out from the speakers, and you turn your head to see Venti on the stage with that little lyre he sometimes carries with him to the store, saying he’d like your opinion on a song or two he composed.
He dedicates the song to you in front of the entire student body, then proceeds to sing the cheesiest, most gut-wrenching and cringiest love song of all time.
“Why did you have to pick that song?”
“Because it’s fun and cute!”
“I sometimes question your ability to distinguish cute from horrifyingly monstrous.”
There’s a mortified look on your face, but amidst the embarrassment and the teasing remarks of his friends, there’s a smile on your face that you can’t bring yourself to wipe away.
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i’ll be doing a part two on this but with diluc, dottore, kazuha, xiao, and zhongli!
@maehemthemisfit @sonder-paradise @96jnie @komiyaa @scaramouchenumber1fan @linn-a-a @wisteriaflowersss @ineriris @yesntforno @serramii @shadowmist0706 @jmgrule @imeanwatever @c00kie-cat @serramii @xtodorokismistressx @ieathairs @endlessmari @strawberryclumsy @serenity-ren-bliss @scarasbaby
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tnsophiaonly · 1 month
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Okay, I'm sorry for being gone but
Imagine having to deal with a bunch of people speaking ancient languages.
Like Bennett speaking ancient Deutsch to you (or genshin Deutsch lmaoalaka) or Xiangling speaking ancient Chinese (or genshin Chinese skakak) to you and you're just there standing awkwardly as even Google translate won't understand.
Or if we follow the saying that everyone speaks Teyvatian language and now everyone is speaking in the most gibberish words you've ever heard, you probably understand the aranara language more bro.
And that's where Paimon and the Traveller come in! The Traveller and Paimon would gladly translate for you! They have visited this world once after all.
And like the genshin people in your world just being shocked that so many people know so much about them??? Or when they find out the one who created them isn't you, but actually some guys called Hoyoverse? They'll be in such a crisis.
But of course, they know the difference between them and you. You made them feel alive, they created them, but you—made them feel life.
No matter how many people have played genshin, the only and truly person to have made them feel alive is you and you only. That's why you're their beloved Creator!
Wanderer, Abyss Order, Arlecchino, Capitano, Columbina, Pierro, Dainsleif, Ei, Zhongli, Venti and Nahida understands you other than the Traveller.
Everyone is kind of jealous, that the Traveller could just Snoop you away and help you out every time you need some translation. They want to do that too! But they can't...
Guess they'd just need to do other unethical ways to understand your otherworldly language huh?
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kalliyen · 1 year
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Streamer Luck 🍀
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Pairing: Wanderer x GN!Reader
Featuring: Wanderer (Genshin Impact)
Genre: Fluff, Modern AU
Summary: Streamer Wander drabbles lmao enjoy <33
Reader’s Pronouns: They/Them
Warning: wanderer (just brace yourself) bro is actually astronomically down bad, sorry id there’s any spelling or grammar mistakes i am delirious rn
Disclaimer: ⚠️ ONLY A WORK OF FICTION!
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i. ‘wym you’re not single and rotting in a basement?’
Wanderer has been playing for hours on end, you could barely keep up with it.
He hasn’t come out of his room for hours and you were starting to get worried about his appetite, and his emotional well being.
Because you were such a good and doting partner, you decided to make Wanderer’s fave dish, and deliver it to his room.
Knocking on his door, he lets out a brief hum, signaling that it was good to come in. Careful not to get to close to the camera, not wanting to reveal yourself to his audience just yet.
Chat noticed the presence of another person in the room, and immediately bombarding Wanderer with questions like “who tf is that???” and “where did they spawn from???”
“Darling you’ve been streaming for 6 hours, take a break and eat first okay? Just call me when you need anything else.” You state, trying to resist giving him a peck on the lips.
Your boyfriend pauses his game, looks at you, then chat, and decides to pull your waist to his level to give you not one peck, but multiple.
Taken aback but not at all surprised from your boyfriend’s sudden show of affection, you lean into the kiss, missing the feel of his lips on yours.
Chat absolutely EXPLODES when they saw that, but Wanderer did not give two shits, and decided to kiss your hand, while deeply looking into your eyes
“Thanks Honey, I’ll take a break and eat this, thank you so much for looking out for me :)”
“No problem darl, just come out when I call you for dinner okay?” “Yes honey” And with that you leave the room, leaving Wanderer with him and his chat
He scans the messages, multiple times he sees “SO DOWN BAD LMAOO” and “did u kidnap them or something to take are of you”
A little irked at chat, he angrily replies “No I am NOT down bad (he is) and NO I did not kidnap them. They’re my partner. Why is that so hard to believe?”
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ii. honey face reveal when?
Ever since you’ve made your existence known to Wanderer’s fan base they’ve been calling you Honey, mostly mocking him about the nickname he has for you. (they do find it cute tho fr)
They tell him to bring you into the stream more, saying that they missed your voice and your sweet personality, honestly they don’t give a fuck about him no more they just wanna see you
Wanderer gets annoyed (again, this man is always mad at his chat somehow), and says that he can’t force you to show yourself to them, which his chat respects.
“Also their sweetness and cuteness is for me only, not my fault that you guys are lonely and don’t have a partner. Imagine that, what a massive L” he says to his chat, and they start arguing with him again. (someone save his fan base)
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iii. HONEY REVEALLL !!!!!
Seeing that your boyfriend’s fans really liked you, you decided to tell Wanderer that you’re finally comfortable with sharing your face to the internet, which he was really happy with. Because god he really wanted to show of the love of his life to the world, and smash it in their faces that only he could have you.
You suggest to him that you do a cute little baking stream together as your face reveal, and he couldn’t deny the adorable smile on your face while suggesting it to him, so of course he obliged.
While he was setting up the cameras and you were setting up the ingredients you felt really nervous, thoughts of ‘what if they don’t like me?’ plagued your mind, and Wanderer sensed your uneasy demeanor. He came up to you and gave you a kiss that meant ‘don’t be nervous honey, i’ll always be here for you.’
He turns the stream on and immediately people start to come in, surprised at the change of scenery.
‘Wanderer doesn’t live in his basement confirmed?!?!’ a TTS message read, and he gave the camera a glare
Chat immediately noticed you and started chanting “HONEY!” “OH MY GOD ITS HONEY FINALLY”
You gave a meek wave to the camera, still a bit nervous, but with Wanderer’s hand on your waist you knew you had nothing to worry about.
“Hello everyone,,,,I’m y/n, you probably know me as ‘honey’ and i’m…..wanderer’s partner” you say with small smile on your face, eyes turning into small slits
In conclusion, the stream was a success and chat was absolutely smitten with you.
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bonus: iv. Honey takes over the channel 😱
Now that you’ve gotten more comfortable showing yourself on stream, you sometimes played games with Wanderer too, like co-op in this game called Genshin or other games that allowed two person players.
Sometimes, you even started streams yourself whenever you wanted to share something to his audience, or get advice from them when you start a new game.
Wanderer of course sees these streams and he just has the lovey dovey-est smile in the world, you swear you saw his eyes turn into hearts.
Damn, his streamer luck is insane.
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xiaoluvss · 1 month
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scara college au ! ݁ ˖๋ ࣭‹3 ⭑
(compsci major!scara & fine arts major!reader)
this is my first time writing,, pls go easy on me😭n im literally doing this while paintingggg
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♡ collegestudent!scara who is also your.. really cold roommate that's a compsci major.
♡ collegestudent!scara whose first impression on you was that he didn't like you, due to the cold and stoic expression that was always on his face. and the way he talked to you at first as if you annoyed him just by breathing.
♡ collegestudent!scara who eventually warms up to your soft personality and doesn't seem as cold as before. he now accompanies you everywhere. even to your favorite café.
♡ collegestudent!scara who has a completely different music and fashion taste from yours.
♡ collegestudent!scara who used to hate being called 'kuni' by you but had warmed up to it by now. he knows something's wrong when you don't call him that.
♡ collegestudent!scara who stays up late often and then gets sick as a result, so you have to take care of him every time. he throws a lot of cuss words at you but you know deep down he appreciates you. he actually really loves your cooking.
♡ collegestudent!scara who also scolds you whenever you stay up late sketching or painting, dragging you harshly to your bed to tuck you in. yet it's somehow okay when he stays up late?
♡ collegestudent!scara who always picks you up after your classes.
♡ collegestudent!scara who has made it a habit to have late night visits to the nearby convenience store with you. he makes sure to stay by your side at all times.
♡ collegestudent!scara who comforts you by either taking you to your favorite café and buying your favorite drink & pastry . . or taking you to an art museum/art store even though he's not interested in art.
♡ collegestudent!scara who always complains about having to accompany you to the art supplies store but goes anyway.
♡ collegestudent!scara who watches you paint when he's bored and has nothing else to do.
♡ collegestudent!scara who once heard people gossiping about you in the hallway and sent a death glare towards them that scared them away. luckily he didn't punch them.
♡ collegestudent!scara who so obviously has a crush on you that his friends tease him about it, and even has a gallery in his phone full of candid pictures of you. some of them were sent to you and were put on your instagram story.
♡ collegestudent!scara who absolutely adores your artworks but never shows it. he once found multiple sketches of him when he flipped through one of your many sketchbooks. he definitely didn't take a picture of that.
♡ collegestudent!scara who will and always admire you, from afar or not.
♡ collegestudent!scara whose favorite artist will always be you.
♡ collegestudent!scara whose soft spot will always be you.<3
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rosedom · 2 months
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hi there! I'm here because I wanted to share with you an idea I had in mind.
wanderer x guitarist boyfriend reader where he finds the reader's hands attractive and started to masturbate in his room imagining the reader's fingers inside him and reader catches him masturbating in his room once he got back to his place after a band performance.
I hope this is okay with you, I'm sorry if it's not though. I love your works btw! also can I be 🥯 anon?
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"in an open match, 【 🥯 】 has invited WANDERER to play . . . a well-strummed man
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✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!male!reader, sub!ftm!wanderer, hand kink, fantasizing turned to masturbating, getting caught (by you), vaginal fingering, lots of love & praise .
A/N : i've been thinking about this scenario these past weeks, oh my goodness . . . (⁠♡⁠ω⁠♡⁠ ⁠)⁠ ⁠~⁠♪
"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."
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Kunikuzushi is a dead, dead man.
Listen. It's not like it’s his fault you’re a guitarist, much-less the lead of a band; and it most certainly does not fall to his blame that he’s been lonely, alright?
You’ve been out all weekend, and it’s already Sunday night. He—he won't admit he misses you, but it’s a close thing.
“I’ll be back Monday, baby,” you’d said, last Friday. You’d held him in your broad arms, your large palms a searing brand to his hips as he grunted at you for spinning him.
He had shoo’d you away, said, “Okay, okay!” and pushed you out the door with your guitar and damning crooked grin.
You had pouted, too, standing in the doorway like some kicked kitten, and Kuni couldn’t deny such pitiful look on your handsome face. “C’mere,” he’d grumbled, reeled you in and kissed you soundly on your lips. “Goodluck, yeah?”
“Yeah.” You’d kept your faces together for a few moments, breathing in him, before you ultimately straightened up. “I love you.”
With a scoff, another shove and a soft, “Goodbye—,” one you gave him back, your own adoring farewell—he had murmured, “I love you, too.”
(He hasn't seen the smile on your face for you turned the other way. It made your heart skip a beat, made you hold tighter to the purple straps of your guitar as you went to the curb your bandmates had been waiting for you on.
Kuni had seen, however, the grip of your fingers across the leather; he had seen it well. So well.)
Kuni groans. Your hands. He can't get your hands off his mind: your hands tightening around your guitar strap, your hands holding tight to his waist, your hands covering the expanse of his pale skin, your hands dipping down, your hands stroking his cock and nudging into his cunt and and—
he’s a goner. Not only dead, but gone: utterly, entirely, wholly for you.
Your hands are just so—enticing. That's it, that's all. They're nice to look at.
. . . and nice to imagine knuckle-deep in his cunt. Of course, they’re nice to feel actively thrusting in him, rubbing across his chubby cock and smearing the mess of slick and lube across his hole; but you're not here right now, and he's left with only a whisper of you in his imagination, and a video of you playing live.
He couldn't attend your show, thanks to a paper he had to submit by Saturday night. But tonight's Sunday, and the paper's squared away and submitted and done, and he's lonely, right now, replaying your recording, eyes watching the both steady and jerking movements in turn of your fingers across the guitar strings.
His cock throbs. “Shit.”
With another groan—albeit far weaker, without any gusto behind it—, Kunikuzushi lets his phone fall to the side and sinks full-bodied into the bed. The plush blankets wrap around him, swaddling him in a semblance of you, you, you. They carry your subtle scent in them, a mixture of your soap and his own embedded into the fabric in a heady mix that Kuni greedily drinks in, pressing a corner of it to his mouth and nose as his other hand teases down his body.
A tweak—gentle, mimicking your own soft touch—to his nipples through the thin fabric of his shirt makes him lowly gasp. It’s not as satisfying, with his own touch, but the sensation still makes small zaps of pleasure zing up and down his spine, ending with a heavy pulse at his cock and sending his cunt dribbling.
Pulling off his briefs is an easy thing, if not made a bit messy by the string of slick that connects to and snaps from the seat of the fabric. It’d be embarrassing if you were here to see it, feel it, taste it; but you're not here right now.
He's sorely reminded, again and again: he's alone, for now.
(He misses the embarrassment under you, already, misses the way your touch is always so gentle against him, teasing him and bringing him to release again and again with those damning hands.)
He plays across his opening, now bare, with his fingers, just like you'd do. The wetness clings to his fingertips, and he mourns the loss of the calluses on your hands; his own are soft n’ smooth, providing little friction against the parts that need it most.
“Please,” he whispers to himself, to the air, to absolutely no-one.
He wants you here, so, so bad; but the next best thing is the slide of two fingers, right off the bat, right into the third knuckle. It’s slow going, but it's smooth, and he sharply exhales at the barely-there stretch.
It’s quiet save for the squelch of his fingers, the in-n’-out thrust
When his mind starts playing your voice, the devilish thing, he's a goner twice-over. “Takin’ my fingers so well, baby,” you’d say, he imagines you saying. He mewls at the thought, bending his fingers sharply in the way he knows you would. Though they don’t come into contact with his g-spot how yours would, not at first, the press against his sensitive walls makes him bite his lip still.
Sometimes, Kuni wonders if you know his body better than he does. (You do.)
He thinks, then, of the other things you'd say to him, pressed up close and deep in him. Maybe you would tell him, “So needy,” with a lilt to your voice that reveals you're really not mad at all. “All wet n’ dripping for me, aren't'cha? Aren’t I so lucky to have such a pretty boy under me?”
Maybe you'd lean down and lick at his cock while you spread him open. The thought makes him whine all loud-like, working a third finger in beside the other two, whimpering quietly after the shame of his initial whine.
“Turn over for me, babe,” the you in his head sweetly commands. He swears he can feel your phantom touch on his hips, murmuring, “There you go,” guiding him to roll onto his belly. The shirt he’s kept on bunches up, allowing a whisper of the cold bedroom air to brush his nipples. “My obedient, good boy.”
He feels safer like this, pumping his fingers into his cunt the best he can with the new position. The angle no longer allows his fingers to curl into his g-spot, but it mimics how you handle him: a worthy trade-off, he thinks. He imagines you on his back, stretching him on your fingers as you drape yourself across him, licking n’ kissing at his neck and blushing ears.
“Opening up so good f'r me,” you'd say; Kuni whimpers, biting the pillow—your pillow, saturated in the subtle scent of your shampoo—to muffle himself. He’s safe, like this.
This is as close as he can get to having you, right now—
until it's not.
“Oh,” you breathe. “Kuni, sweetheart.”
Fuck. Fuck.
“You—I—” Kuni wrings himself upright, coming right up to your face, inches away from his own. He growls at you, but it falls short—how could it, when he’s red-faced and pushes at your chest with his slickened hand? “When did you get home?”
“Just now,” you murmur, grabbing his hand and bringing it up to your lips for a kiss, for a taste of him. Then, “Have you cum?”
He rips his hand back. “You can't just—”
“So you haven't,” you say, grinning. Silently, he sputters, but then you're leaning in and kissing him soundly and pressing him down into your bed and—
“Gonna let me make you feel good, baby?” you ask. Your grin turns devilish when you dip your fingertips into him, just so, the callouses on your two fingers already resting so perfectly against his opening.
Your roughed-up thumb presses into his jutting cock, right as he whines, “Yes,” his whole attitude turned on a dime. Sweet, sweet Kunikuzushi.
“You're so wet,” you murmur, entirely awed at the slick glide of your fingers, able to slide a third in oh-so easily. While he had three of his own stuffed up to his third knuckle, your fingers are broader, wider—the knobs of each knuckle is prominent still, nudging each sweet spot in his cunt easy as anything. “God, pretty boy, what were you thinkin’ about to make you this messy?”
Kuni whines again, the sound airy and high, pleading n’ begging.
“Heard you keep saying my name,” you continue, curling your fingers and forcing the bumps at your fingertips against his g-spot in a way his own hands failed to. Asking, “What about me, hm?” makes him tremble, and you think his brain is too pleasure-mushed to process it.
But then he’s reaching for the hand you've got snug on his hip, and he murmurs, “Your hands.”
“My hands?” He nods, closing his eyes tight. You kiss the flutter of eyelashes. “What about them?”
“They're so—” a moan cuts up his words, your thumb working tight against him.
“They're so...?”
He groans. “They're so—so big, ‘nd they're always so warm, so hot in me, s-stretch me so—so good.”
“Yeah?” You pull apart your fingers at his words—only slightly, enough to feel the slight resistance of his cunt. “Like it when I open you up all nice n’ pretty for me?”
“Yes, yes, I l-love it.” Kuni’s so unabashed, now, so close to his orgasm. The clench of his cunt is uncontrolled, pulsing against your fingers and urging you to rub his chubby cock faster, harder, stretching him out and making his mind melt from his pretty, perfect lil’ pussy.
As his back unconsciously arches, his thighs jerking with the spasms of his muscle, he begins to plead you to let him cum. Soft begs fall from his lips as he clutches right at your free hand, both of his smaller ones holding yours tight when you lean down and kiss him, soft n’ sound right against his swollen lips.
You can't even finish your sentence, a gentle, “Cum for me, sweetheart,” before Kuni’s creaming around your fingers, the thick cum left dribbling in your palm and being smeared into his twitching cock.
By the time he’s dropped your hand to grab at your other wrist, he's left a whimperin’, whinin’ mess. You lie next to him and roll his body on top of yours, holding him close around his middle and letting him nuzzle into your throat.
His breathing eventually steadies, matching the gentle rhythm of your chest against his. “Thank you,” he mutters.
“For what?”
He sighs. “Makin’ me cum.” The tone of his voice makes you chuckle, and he raises an eyebrow at you. “What?”
“Nuthin',” you say, laughing. You kiss his forehead in apology, and you continue with, “I should be thanking you, anyway, for surprising me with something like that.”
“Shut up, you perv.”
You’re appalled! “Says the guy fingering himself on our—”
Kuni growls, jumping up and covering your mouth with his hands. “Shut up!” But those pretty indigo eyes soften, crinkling at the edges, and he leans down to kiss your forehead in turn.
“Missed you,” he says, a whisper against your skin—one you return to his sternum, pressing a kiss and your love so close to his heart.
Maybe, if this is death, like this, Kuni wouldn't quite mind being a dead man.
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kuni's so real for this: hands r UNREASONABLY attractive. i hope this somewhat like u imagined, sweet anon 🦭🦭
6 MAR. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .
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sl-vega · 1 month
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.° ༘🎧⋆🖇₊˚ෆ-MY HEART BEATS FOR YOU
Pairing: [BASSIST!] Scaramouche x [GUITARIST!] Reader
Genre: rivals/enemies to lovers, rivals to friends to lovers, fluff, crack (?), comedy, angst (?), slowburn, high school au, band au, modern au, social media au, smau
Synopsis: You're the lead guitarist for your band, C✧LESTIA and Scaramouche is the bassist of 5WIRL. The two of your bands have a friendly rivalry, but you and Scaramouche don't. On top of being academic rivals, you and him have never been on good terms. Always one-upping each other in grades and in music. Even your bandmates have grown tired of your constant bickering with each other. But when your usual practice hub gets flooded, you and the rest of C✧LESTIA are forced to find a new place to rehearse. So when 5WIRL offers to share their studio with you who are you to refuse? Of course, this forces you to spend time with your sworn rival whether you like it or not. But maybe the two of you can overcome your differences and actually be friends?
Or maybe even more?
CW: swearing, profanities/innuendoes, bad music puns, ooc (?)
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⋆🎶₊˚ෆ STARRING
C✧LESTIA ll 5WIRL ll THE FANS
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PLAYING TRACK...
PROLOGUE-tear drops on my guitar
ALBUM 01-go fuck yourself! /affectionate
01-we're in treble
02-diss track
03-fret not
04-i'm not that desperate
05-starting on a sour note
06-practicing but we're already perfect
07-shits and gigs
08-obsessed much?
(MORE TBA)
ALBUM 02-pov: falling in love with your rival
(TBA)
ALBUM 03-giving up my dream so you can live out your's
(TBA)
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additional notes:
-my bandori phase caused me to make this
-this one will probably start soon because i need a break from writing sticking to the script
-bare with me and my bad music humour
-working on profiles as we speak
-i'm gonna tag my other scara smau taglist cuz smth tells me y'all would be into this: @ladyninggs, @featuredtofu, @levianamor, @veekoko, @glxssmemories, @foomeowmeow117, @scarasbaby , @d-d3arest , @heavenforyyou , @seternic , @danfelions , @jf-117, @kukikoooo , @uuyuomi, @rozariwho , @freyao7 , @lapinaenmicoche , @thatoneswordgirl
-no pressure to read tho :3
-this taglist is open and the smau will start soon
-decided to give myself more freedom, this smau isn't planned out as much as my others
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(OPEN) TAGLIST: @featuredtofu, @levianamor, @danfelions, @thatoneswordgirl, @lolmeowing, @bananasquash, @xiaosantenna, @glxssmemories, @kaitfae, @mujiwuji, @zestyseggsydaddy69, @peaceindreams, @freyao7, @rinquin, @justpeachyteastea, @cocomi, @b2ne, @skyoverkill1, @scaradooche, @morallyrainyday, @adres-tia, @justadvena6, @agaygothicmushroom, @huanator, @seaofdata, @kyon-cherri, @aether-darling, @ukinya, @sketcheeee, @ibawa, @shutingstar, @eutopiastar, @kunimix, @wonderful-worlds, @ectomotive, @yourfavoritefreakyhan
334 notes · View notes
mayaree-darling · 4 months
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Hi i've been binging some of your fics recently and im in love! I saw that you had requests open so I was wondering if you could do scaramouche x fem reader but where reader dresses in jojifuku or other known as cutecore and scaramouche dresses in a baggy 'cool' way and reader gets made fun of for dressing differently?
of scary dog privileges & matcha lattes // scaramouche (modern au)
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pairing: Scaramouche x Cutecore!Reader
synopsis: look, you may be a cute ball of pastels that can test scaramouche's patience, but you're HIS cute pastel lover. but if anyone messes with you, it's okay - his hands were made to be thrown.
from aree: for @amia-69: thanks for requesting and i hope this was satisfactory. i had too much fun with this so i hope you don't mind if it's a tad long with more scenes than you requested. i also made this a bit more feel-good by being a little silly but it’s still mostly serious, i hope you don't mind!
content: slight stalking and bullying scenario (be warned if triggering); very annoyed Scara means swearing; i'm in silly writer mode rn so this is a mix of crack and serious writing; slightly unhinged reader but hey so is scaramouche; praying this ain't OOC; fully accepted this is cringe; fem reader
fic length: 4k~ (unedited)
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Scaramouche isn't dumb. He can tell anyone who sees him is asking it in their head.
How the fuck did you two end up together?
There was nothing soft looking about him besides the hair he inherited from his mother. He was his mother but with sharper lines, edges, and words. His eyes were almost a permanent glare if he didn't look bored or annoyed at everyone and everything. He always seemed to wear dark clothing, accompanied by the right amount of chains or belts here and there to complete the look, but they suited him nicely. If anything, he wore them best than most. If he wore anything less than clothes that didn't hang off his body  he looked uncomfortable. Didn't mean he didn't hear enough older people talking about his choice of clothes though.
So when he first stood next to you on the fruits and vegetables aisle at the grocery store, he realized how you two stood at different ends of the fashion spectrum. He was there with his mother for their weekly food restock and ended up getting left behind when he went to check something on his phone (typical. How may times had this happened?) When he blinked, gone was his mom, and there beside him stood you, looking at a bunch of melons.
"This shit's overpriced, the hell." you grumble it under your breath, but Scaramouche heard it loud and clear. The snort he lets out isn't unnoticed by you and you turn to him, eyebrows raised. You look at him up and down before your eyes land back to his, and he frowns.
Goddamn it, here we go. He's heard his mom talk his ear off about the clothes this morning and he wasn't gonna hear it from anyone else. He opens his mouth, ready to cuss you to next Tuesday, but you beat him to it.
"I like the eyeliner," Scaramouche stares at you incredulously, and almost as a final nail into the coffin that he heard you right, you nod in approval. You tilt your head to the side. "I gotta say though. I think eyeshadow would look a lot better. Maybe... red? Just a bit at the corners. It would look a lot nice with your eye color and would make them pop considering you wear a lot of dark shades."
Scaramouche gapes at you. He's used to getting cussed out or getting the occasional talking to about his choices in life, but fashion advice was the last thing he expected to get from some stranger in the fruits aisle.
"Thanks..." he eventually lets out. He finally takes a moment to look you up and down and wonders how the hell did he not notice you sooner when you stood out from everything like a sore thumb.
Scaramouche didn't know there were so many shades of pink in the world. Or maybe he never noticed since he never wore clothes like that, and if he was honest, he spent time with people who didn't wear that color at all. Seeing it now was like a jumpscare, just a lot softer considering it's not like you posed any actual threat but slightly still as surprising considering people randomly approaching him first was so rare. If you weren't wearing a shade of pink, you were wearing some pastel shade of another color. Pastel blue, pastel purple, white lace here and there. The skirt you wore was so frilly you looked like you were walking around with a pink cloud. You looked... soft. That was the best summary Scaramouche could put together in the amount of time he gave you a once over.
You looked like everything he was not.
"I like... the frills," he inwardly cringed the moment he said it, but he ended up just frowning at you. It was your damn fault for putting him in this position in the first place so why the hell was he the one suffering. It's not his fault he wasn't good at giving other people compliments.
You laugh, and Scaramouche wasn't sure whether he should be glad you didn't take it to heart or be offended that he actually tried his best to give you a compliment only to be shot down. "It's okay. You don't have to force yourself."
Scaramouche just frowned deeper. Now it feels like you're saying he can't give out a compliment at all. He looks you up and down again and just says what comes to his head on the spot. "You look like the cotton candy sold at the fair across the street. Actually, I think you're a lot more pink than that stuff, but still lighter? Can't tell accurately with how many shades you got going on."
He must've said something good enough for you because you're grinning at him the next second. "That's one of the nicer ones people have said to me."
Scaramouche looks at you in disbelief. "How is that even remotely nice?"
"Well, for one, I know you mean that sincerely. Second, I'll have you know I worked hard to get pretty vibrant pinks that weren't too hard on the eyes, so thanks for confirming that!"
"You made that?" You nod, and Scaramouche nods back slowly in approval, actually impressed. "Not bad."
Your eyes land on his watch and you jolt, looking at the time on your phone. You pick a random melon even when he sees you scowl at the price tag and put it into your basket. Nodding once more to him, you turn around and leave. But as he watches you round the corner, you're running back to his side once more before he can even turn away. The sudden look of alarm on your face, so different from the grin and laughter you had on earlier, immediately has him on edge.
"Please help me," you whisper, but there was no one else in the aisle besides a mother and her baby at the far end. He frowns and looks to the side.
"Do I look like I help people." it came out harsher than he intended, but didn't he give you more than he was already willing to give any other stranger? Now you were just taking advantage of him.
"I need a scary dog right now," you said it so casually and seriously he wasn't sure he heard you right. But your voice echoed correctly in his head and he actually takes a step away from you, face incredulous.
"What the fuck did you just call me?" he scoffs, not sure if he was supposed to be offended or it was a compliment from you in some weird way. "The pet shop is right next door. Go get a dog there."
"Please. You know what I mean." you look at him pleadingly and he looks away. No, no, he was not gonna break first. This wasn't his business to deal with. He's done enough for people for the day. Nope.
"Again, go look for that somewhere else. Don't you have a boyfriend to help with this kinda thing?"
You roll your eyes and Scaramouche has half a mind to smack you silly. "If I did, you think I'd be going up to strangers for help?"
"So this is a regular thing, huh?" he takes a step back and you take a step towards him.
"Of course not, you expect this kinda thing to happen sometimes. But I don't want to hide away just ‘cause some people couldn't stay away and mind their own damn business," you shuffle from one foot to another. You cast a hesitant look behind you. His eyes follow.
"What are you even-" he stops. In the corner where he last saw you turn, a hooded man hovered over the bread aisle. For a shelf that only had five pieces of loaves left he was taking his time picking, so that only meant one thing. Scaramouche watched as the man glanced over once in your direction before seemingly turning back to the bread with fake focus.
"I thought I was imagining it. But he’s giving me the evil eyes," your voice is a whisper again.
That's unpleasant. Scaramouche straightened his posture and looked at you directly. If it's a scary dog you needed then so be it.
"What are you waiting for, then?" his voice was loud, not enough to be too distracting, but enough to carry over to the asshole who decided to be a creep for the day. Scaramouche kept his eyes on you. "You need anything else? I got the car running. Let's go if you're ready."
You look up at him like he was a fucking hero and Scaramouche all but does his best to not look as pompous as he felt. He sees the guy step back a little from his view, most likely thinking twice about following you when you're suddenly with company. He all but stares the fucker down until he leaves his line of sight.
Scaramouche breathes a short sigh of relief and he sees you do the same. He wanted to leave it at that, but if the guy was planning to follow you around the mall, he'd probably stick around a bit more. So fucking annoying. Not you, though. Although you were a bit annoying, you've probably been through more today than he had. He takes your wrist lightly.
"Where to next? I have family waiting outside."
You smile, relaxed and familiar. He holds your wrist, but you guide him around the store for a few other things before heading to the counter. When you leave the shop, plastic bags in hand, he motions for you to head to the parking lot and you follow albeit hesitantly, only visibly relaxing when you see a woman standing by a car who looks eerily similar to your rescuer.
"Oh? You have a friend." Scaramouche bites back the retort that almost slips past his lips. What did she mean by that? Of course he had friends. He'd never introduce them to her and her to them but he preferred keeping those two sides of his life away from each other.
"She had a bit of a problem and needed some help," she looks at you once and back to him. She gives him a knowing look but Scaramouche could swear on his grave that what she was thinking was vastly different from what was really going on.
"I see. Will your friend be joining us for dinner?" she looks at you with a soft smile and you return it. Scaramouche has half a mind to facepalm himself, he thanks what shred of patience he has left that he doesn't because you give him a glance.
"Thank you for the offer, but I should really be heading home," you turn to him fully and take the plastic bags from him. "Thanks for... helping me."
He opens his mouth but before he can say anything, you give him a knowing nod before quickly walking away. He watches you walk a few paces before he hears his mom clear her throat. He looks to her, already scowling.
"Don't tell me you're just gonna let her go like that?"
"What do you want me to do?"
Ei sighs. "At least make sure she gets a ride? If you walked her all the way over here, I can guess you wanted to give her a ride home. But that's out of the question now."
"Why are you so invested in this anyway? I just met her today."
"Oh, really? I thought you already knew each other." Ei hums as she rummages her purse for the keys. "You look like a pair. Not quite sure what kind, but definitely a pair of something. I think she’s rather cute."
He curses silently before jogging to catch up to you. He finds you standing by the bus stop. When you turn to him, you smile.
"Thanks for helping me again."
"You know I was planning on dropping you off at your place, right? Thought that was kinda clear with what I said at the grocery."
"Nah. I'd bothered you enough. Don't wanna bother your sister either." you grin at him, shuffling from foot to foot again, now with a pep in your step.
"First off, that was my mom, not my sister." you repeat the word 'mom' silently before looking at him with barely suppressed admiration, and Scaramouche barely holds himself back from groaning. "Second, it's fine. You're not scared that guy's gonna follow you home?"
"I'll be in a bus full of people. If he tries anything I'll scream my head off." you laugh. Scaramouche can hear a shred of doubt in your voice, but he doesn't say anything else. There's a pause of silence before you look at him from the corner of your eye and hum. "Y'know. I don't know how to properly thank you."
He waves you off. "Forget about it."
"How about I treat you?" you turn to him fully, like he just didn't brush you off. "I know a cafe by the train station that makes really good matcha lattes."
"What makes you think I even like matcha?" he sighs, but he thinks about it for a second. And then another second. Scaramouche blinks before he turns to you with a deadpan face. "You're just trying to take advantage of my scary dog privilege or whatever you call it."
"Maybe? Who knows?"you grin mischievously. "I'm serious about treating you to a meal, though. I owe you one. If you want you can just take the meal and forget about ever seeing me again."
Scaramouche sighs. Surely, it wouldn't hurt...?
"Alright then. When's our date?" You blink at him in surprise before laughing.
When people ask him how you two got together, he says you treated him to matcha for saving your life and you just hit it off. When they ask you to confirm, you excitedly show a picture of the two of you in the cafe of your first date. Should anyone try to mention the foam of milk from the matcha latte gathered around the top of his lips or the cat ears you had graciously edited onto the top of his head, Scaramouche is quick to silence them with a murderous look, almost the very same one he has on in the picture.
Some might think why doesn’t he just ask you to stop showing the photo to people? It’s enough for you to confirm that you got together over drinks, end of story. But as he watches and listens to you recount how you met again, the smile on your lips and the laughter that slips past and the grin as you show all the pictures - he can’t imagine saying no.
Why would he make you stop when you’re so happy?
That’s what he thinks now, as he sees the frown on your face.
He thought people already understood. He let you tell the story over and over even though it got on his nerves time and time again because it made you happy, yes, but also so people saw who they were messing with if they ever even thought of messing with you. This city was a small one - if people didn’t know him from his mother, they surely have heard of him and his friends. This city was the kind where word travelled fast if you were even in any social circle. If not for that, they would have surely seen him walking around with you with all the places you wanted to see.
He underestimated how dumb people could be.
matcha | are you close? Scary Dog <3 | give me a couple of minutes. Just got out the bus matcha | ok | um not to pressure u | can you hurry | just a bit | sorry
Scaramouche rolled his eyes before frowning. He pocketed his phone and all but jogged to the park. From a distance, he could see two guys in front of the bench he was sure was where you were supposed to meet. It was the bench he and you stopped at to exchange numbers, so it became a place that meant a lot to you. When he was close, the group of guys looked at his direction, snickering, before heading to the next bench over. Finally, he has a perfect view of you, your head down, holding on to your drink and phone like a lifeline. His drink almost lay forgotten beside you.
He quickly grabbed the drink from your side and sat beside you. From the corner of his eye, he can see the group of guys stealing glances at the both of you, not even trying to hide their laughter and sneers. He’s gripping his drink almost as hard as you were.
“You’re here,” you smile at him, but as quickly as it’s on your face it drops back to a wobbly frown and you look away. “Sorry if I made you hurry, I-”
“What happened? Did they do anything to you?” his voice comes out in a rush but it’s soft, as comforting as he can muster with the situation at hand. He can feel his blood boiling, his senses on high alert.
“No, no, they were just being mean and annoying and I-” you shakily pocket your phone and hold on to his hand. He can feel you shaking and he grit his teeth.
“What did they do? What the fuck did they say?” he was gripping onto the cup so tight he would’ve been surprised that it hadn’t broken yet if he wasn’t so focused on you.
“Nothing important.” he squeezes your hand, not enough to hurt, but to make sure you know that he’s here now. You didn’t need to hide anything from him. You just need to tell him. You look up at him and purse your lips. “They just said-”
He hears laughter and immediately whips his head towards the two guys, feeling absolutely feral. The closest one sitting on the edge of the bench flinches for a second, before he meets his glare with a sneer.
“I was wondering what kind of parents would leave their little princess walking around alone like that,” the guy smirks and Scaramouche can feel you flinch under his touch. “But another kid just showed up to pick them up. Where are your parents, kiddies?”
The two guys laugh and Scaramouche can feel his teeth crack with how hard he was biting down. He stands up but you hold on to his hand.
“Just let it go. Let’s just get out of here.” you mumble to him, but the guys heard perfectly.
“Let’s just get out of here~” the other guy copies your voice, all high pitched and mocking and everything that Scaramouche knew you were very much not. “She dresses like a little princess and sounds like one. Aren’t you too old for that?”
They howl with laughter and slowly, Scaramouche feels you let go of him. He looks to you, concerned, but you meet his eyes, your face blank but he knows that look.
Go for it.
With quick strides he’s right beside their bench. They stop for a moment to look at him.
He looks at the matcha latte in his hand and sighs.
What a waste of a drink. You got it for him, too.
“What are you- ARGH!” Scaramouche shakes the cup empty of all it’s content, making sure that each of the guys’ heads had at least a bit of the matcha drink. But Scaramouche was sure he got them both - it was a large drink, after all.
“Pick on someone your own size, you lil’-” the man closest to him goes to stand, but just as he does, Scaramouche raises his own leg and drives a kick right on his knees.
*CRACK*
The man screams in pain, forced to his knees and tending to his newly acquired wound. The other guy stands to try and help, but his form quickly falters as Scaramouche takes one step towards him, eyes blazing. The man doesn’t move, too frightened, as Scaramouche leans down to the man on the ground.
“There you go. Now we’re the same height.”
Scaramouche feels a pull on the back of his shirt and he’s ready to throw his arm back to punch when he sees you. He lets you pull him and you make a break for it as he hears the man crying in pain behind him.
Trees turn to buildings around you both as you leave the park and head to the city center, stopping only when you’re sure the coast is clear. You both take in large breaths of air after running for so long, but even the silence does nothing to make him realize the gravity of what just happened. That’s not the case for you, though.
“Oh, God, I didn’t think you’d do that. The drink, yeah, but...” you say between breaths. You take a shaky laugh and rub the back of your neck. “Was the kick really necessary, though?”
Was that necessary? Scaramouche knew the answer for himself. He walks closer to you.
Why would he let anyone destroy whatever you two had going on? You came as a pair.
"Scara, what are you-" he stops in his tracks and looks you in the eyes. There's a pause before he lifts his hand and flicks your forehead.
"Talk smack, get whacked."
"I didn't even say anything! And why are you hitting me?!"
There’s a pause as he runs his teeth over his lower lip.
“Hey… you.”
“Wow, I thought by now you knew my name,” you sneer at him. “You telling me you still don’t know it?”
He inhales before he says your name softly. You gape at him, suddenly aware of how serious he’s gotten. “You’re happy with… yourself, right…?”
“Of course I am. That’s not even worth asking about,” there’s a doubtful look on your face, but not because of your answer. Your apprehension stems from where this conversation was going.
“Keep being happy, then.” Scaramouche rubs the knuckles of your hand with his thumb before pressing a kiss to your palm. He smirks at you. “If anyone else says otherwise, a drink over their head and broken kneecaps are the least of their concerns.”
“Now, come on,” he doesn’t let go of your hand and you make no mention of it. “We still gotta stop by Nahida’s, right?”
==✿==|✧••❀••✧|==✿==  
❀BONUS❀
“Your mom’s gonna kill us when she finds out what you did.”
“Nah. She’d be fine with it.” Scaramouche scoffs.
“Find out what?” Ei appears by the kitchen doorway and looks at you both expectantly. You turn to Scaramouche, eyes wide with fear, but he doesn’t flinch or even stop chopping the melon.
“I poured a drink over some guy who said Matcha was acting too much like a kid,” Scaramouche answers easily, passing you a melon slice. “Also might have broken their knee, but we didn’t get to see.”
“I’m really sorry, Ms. Ei-”
“That’s it?” Ei leans on the kitchen counter and to your surprise, looks at Scaramouche with disappointment. “You should’ve broken a bone or two more.”
You blink as they continue talking about how best to have handled the situation; all their solutions involved hurting someone.
Well, you guess Scaramouche must have had to got it from someone in the family.
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✨ Masterlist ✨
Taglist: 💛@wonpielle 💜@shikanosn
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.
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lovinggstar · 3 months
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❒ EPISODE SIX : CATCH UP ★
hidden secrets & shared feelings
note :: ' and italics indicate thinking
masterlist - prev ep - next ep
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"AND THEN HE BROKE UP WITH ME !!" you sobbed, throwing your beer up in the air and downed it in one go. scaramouche was letting you rant and cry your heart out as he was playing some game on his device in the bar. "are you even LISTENING to me??" you skeptically looked at him, "yes, you told me that him and you were together for 5 months, he found out you liked gacha games, and due to the reasonable reputation of people who play gacha games, he broke up with you on valentines day." "yeah.. that's exactly what i said." you stared at him astonished as he paid for more drinks.
he noticed it, but was too nervous to look back, he coughed, 'who would even want to break up with you in the first place? that guys an idiot. you dodged a bullet right there.' he thought. "you think so?" you questioned, 'shit. i said it out loud.' scaramouche covered his mouth and averted his head in embarrassment. "yeah." he mumbled, still flustered, he tried to change the subject, "ahem, anyway, how do you like it in your new job?" he turned back to you, and you swore you could see a light dust of pink on his blush. "it's been great ! atleast, for the first day, i made a friend too !" you beamed, truly excited. "oh? and who's that?" "kamisato ayaka !" you smiled, "what about you? who's that white haired guy?" you asked, "him? he's just a guy i tolerate i guess. his name is kazuha" he responded. "ohh, he looks really pretty if i'm being honest." you stated.
'what? do they like kazuha or something?' he nervously thought. 'why do i even care? they're just a childhood friend anyway.' he added onto his train of thought. clearly in denial. he snapped out of his thoughts by you, "oh hey, it's getting late, i should really get going by now." you spoke, taking out your phone to check the time. "you're drunk as hell though?" said scaramouche, "i'll be fine ! i can do an uber." you pointed at the uber app on your phone, "are you sure? atleast let me take you to the pick up area." he offered, "ah.. it is night time.." you worryingly stated, "sure !" you got up, preparing your things as scaramouche was waiting for you. "alright, let's go !"
as you both were walking to the pick-up area, scaramouche decided to go and be straightforward on his question,
"do you like kazuha?" he nervously asked, looking down on the ground as he walked. you looked at him, confused, and in shock, "what?? why are you asking??" you furrowed your eyebrows at him, "what? you don't wanna answer it? fine i don't care" he shrugged, very transparently caring. "pft—" you tried to stifle your laugh, but you just couldn't bare it anymore and started full-on laughing to the point your stomach hurt. people around were giving weird looks.
you started to calm down, "haha.. you still haven't changed." you smiled at him, as you comically removed a tear of joy out of your eye. scaramouche stood there. stunned. 'hah. they sure didn't change either.' "oh hey ! my uber is here, quick, let's exchange contacts !"
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note :: haha..a.a.. sorryr for not updating alot i had school shi
TAGLIST (OPEN !!, BOLD MEANS I CANT TAG YOU) :: @featuredtofu @beriiov @thystarsshine @bubiblossom @kaitfae @xiaoxette @feiherp @aether-darling @xtobefreex @maxineshearts
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the-travelling-witch · 11 months
Text
𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑
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summary: working in a coffee shop means you always meet a wide variety of personalities; but why, out of all options, did you have to go and take an interest in the mysterious guy with an attitude problem?
pairing: piercer! scara x gn barista! reader
warnings: uhh needles (obviously), cursing like once, reader has questionable nicknaming skills (they're worse than paimon's)
modern au series || genshin impact masterlist
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It was a typical Monday morning in the coffee shop you were working at, most customers seemingly dragging themselves in after rolling out of bed with the occasional energy ball as an exception. The aroma of roasted coffee beans filled your nose as you worked on several orders and people entered or left the store at a steady rate.
Once rush hour was pretty much over, the doorbell chimed again to reveal a guy with a dark and choppy bob cut you were sure not many people could pull off. The black clothes draped over his silhouette were deliberately torn at some places and a black mask covered the rest of his face except for striking indigo eyes and two gleaming dermal piercings peeking out from under the fabric on his right cheek. 
“Good morning, what would you like to order?” you greeted, the expected smile already on your lips.
Without so much as a greeting, he said in a monotone voice, “A large black coffee to go.”
Wow, quite the attitude but then again, it was Monday morning and you had seen worse. So, not thinking too much about it, you continued as normal. “May I ask for your name?”
“Huh?”
“To write on your cup, so we can call you when your order is ready to be picked up,” you patiently explained.
In a tone that suggested the guy was bored out of his mind, he merely drawled a “Just write whatever” and went back to scrolling on his phone.
It was a good thing you weren’t holding a cup yet or you might have crumbled it. So much for giving him the benefit of the doubt. Your eyes narrowed as your smile and voice took on an almost unnoticeable edge. “Sure thing,” you replied in a sweet tone before telling him his total. 
A few minutes passed after you gave the guy’s order to your coworker who sniggered as you handed them the receipt. While taking more orders, you were keenly aware of that indigo-eyed jerk’s presence lingering by one of the windows, back leaning against the wall and ringed fingers reflecting the morning sun. 
Setting a cup down on the counter, your coworker called out “A large black coffee to go for ‘Whatever’!” 
At the unusual call, a few other customers turned to see what was happening and the guy himself seemed taken aback for a short second before collecting himself. As he walked up to the counter, he threw you an unimpressed glare which you returned with an innocent shrug. 
Despite his grumpy attitude, the guy kept coming back for the next couple of weeks to the point where you could pinpoint the exact time he’d walk through that door, always ordering a large black coffee. He’d yet to give you his name, so when you went to prepare his coffee ahead of time, you continued to write ‘Whatever’ on it. 
It might have been your imagination, but you thought Bob-Cut seemed to mellow out more too as he kept coming back and you built somewhat of a routine. He’d actually use words like ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ which you didn’t think possible the first time you met him. And, much to your chagrin, you had to admit the nonchalant attitude paired with his style and accessories suited him really well and you sometimes had trouble tearing your gaze away from deep pools of lapis. Not that you’d ever make it known to his face though.
Slowly but surely, you started looking forward to seeing him everyday too. Remembering you’d get to see the mysterious - yet cute- guy walk in again made you positively giddy with excitement as you got ready in the morning. 
Yet this particular day your enthusiasm was stumped as the prepared cup of black coffee sat lonely behind the counter, waiting to be picked up. But he never came, no matter how often you expectantly looked up as the bell jingled. Your coworker patted you on the back encouragingly and you dragged yourself through your shift, a sunken feeling settling in your chest.
The next day, no coffee sat premade on the counter while you worked on orders. With your back turned to the door you almost didn’t notice it swing open. A gruff ‘Morning’ made your eyes light up before you composed yourself and turned to face the strongest resting bitch face ever.
“Good morning, what would you like to order?” You smiled, deciding to play coy although you already knew the answer.
And that was actually the look he gave you; eyes narrowed unimpressed and brow twitching upwards. “Seriously, I don’t come in for a day and you've already forgotten me. That’s a bit harsh, no?”
“Well you never know,” you shrugged playfully. “Maybe you had a change of heart as your coffee was all alone yesterday.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” he mumbled, averting his eyes. He had nothing to apologise for in your opinion but it was cute anyway. “A client cancelled their appointment on short notice and my coworkers had all the other clients handled, so I didn’t come to the studio in the morning.”
The guy must’ve caught on to the curiosity visible on your face because he followed it up with “I’m a piercer and tattoo artist.”
“Oh wow, really?” you said, remembering your own plans to get a new piercing somewhen soon. Since your last piercer had closed their shop, you had kind of pushed that thought to the back of your mind though. Suddenly you were very much aware again of the ink peeking over the neck of his shirt and the piercings gleaming in the shop light “Where do you work?”
“In the studio down the road. If you don’t believe me, you should drop by,” he challenged defensively, although you didn’t doubt him at all. Realising what he just said, his eyes widened in the first big show of emotion you’d seen from him and you thought you could see a faint rosy tint where his mask ended. “No, I mean– Forget I said anything!”
For the rest of the interaction, the guy kept his head down, bangs obscuring his eyes which never quite met yours. It was cute seeing someone who acted so aloof usually be all shy and bashful and you tugged the info about his workplace away for later. To be precise, for the coming weekend. 
On your day off, you found yourself in front of the glass door of a tattoo shop. The pleasant scent of flowers from the shop next to it filled the air as you took a deep breath before you pulled the handle towards you. You chastised yourself for being giddy and letting your hopes get the better of you; for all you know, he might not even work today. Or what if he really didn’t want you here?
Your nerves were forgotten when you entered the studio. Along the walls of the modern entrance area hung a variety of different sketches, distinct both in style and motif. From fine-line flowers to precise geometrics to calligraphy and Japanese style tattoos, you wondered just how many coworkers Bob-Cut had and which sketches were his as you studied the signatures.
“Hi there, how can I help you?” You spun around to face an auburn haired man who had appeared behind the counter, his olive eyes twinkling at your reaction. 
“Oh uhm, I wanted to get a new piercing. That’s fine without a scheduled appointment, right?” 
“Sure, thing. Just fill out these documents here and tell me what piercing you want and I’ll hook you up with someone who’s not working right now,” he smiled brightly, yet you had the strange sense that mischief was bubbling just underneath the surface.
“Actually,” you couldn’t believe you were about to say this out loud, “is there a piercer working here with an indigo bob cut and two piercings on his cheek?”
“Oh?” And there it was, that teasing lilt in his voice which raised the hairs in the back of your neck. “Yo, ‘mouchie, there’s a cutie here to see you!”
A mere few seconds after his shout reverberated down the short hallway behind the desk, steps could be heard as a familiar raspy voice answered. “If you call me that again, I’ll fucking ki– What are YOU doing here?!”
“Oh, so you really do know each other,” Olive-Eyes snickered.
Deciding to ignore him, you tilted your head at the accusatory finger still pointed in your direction. “You invited me, remember?”
“I told you to forget it!”
“Well, too bad you’re not my boss and I can do what I want,” you snipped. “Besides, I wanted a new piercing anyway, so I decided to come here. Where’s the problem with that?”
The sound of your bickering lured in two more onlookers, a guy with dark blue hair tied into two braids to frame his face and one guy with his teal hair tied into a messy ponytail, who was staring down at his phone as if it was way more interesting than his colleagues. 
“What am I hearing? Scara inviting someone over?” The braid-guy sing songed. He mimicked wiping a tear from his eye dramatically. “That I can still witness the day… They grow up so fast.”
“Go to hell, all of you,” ‘Scara’ seethed.
“Alright, see you there.” Teal-Bangs didn’t even look up from his phone, the quip rolling off his tongue as naturally as breathing.
“Wow, even Xiao is bullying you now,” Olive-Eyes chimed in.
Dual-Braids laughed, slinging an arm around Bob-Cut’s shoulders and you feared he might bite it off given the glare he was sending his coworker. “You should really stop hitting him with the newspaper, you know?”
“Uh, guys…?” you interjected before they could start squabbling again. “About that piercing…?”
“Oh right!” The auburn-haired man took the documents from you and gave you a wide smile. “As I said, a piercer who’s free will take care of that aaaaaand would you look at that! Scara happens to be free, so he’ll have the honour of giving you a cool new accessory!”
“Hey, I-” Your coffee shop acquaintance tried to protest but Heizou was already ushering you in his direction.
“Now, go have fun, you two,” he teased. “But not too much, okay? 
That was how you found yourself standing in a neat piercing room, bright white light illuminating the equipment stashed there. There was a sigh behind you and ‘Scara’ crossed the room. 
“They’re such nuisances,” he mumbled before he fixed his indigo eyes on you. Without his black mask on, you could see that besides the two dermal piercings on his right cheek he also had a nostril on the left side of his nose. As he spoke up again, a silver ball sitting on his tongue reflected the crisp light. “You’re okay with that? I mean, me being your piercer and all. Heizou didn’t give you much of a choice but just know that you can back out if you’re uncomfortable.”
“No, it’s fine by me, if you’re okay with it too,” you sincerely replied. “I mean you were pressured into it just as much.”
“I’m used to their antics though.” After a brief moment of gazing at each other, he cleared his throat and gestured for you to take a seat. “So, what kind of piercing do you want?”
You watched him pull on a pair of black latex gloves and only when he looked back at you did the question register in your brain. “A helix, here,” you said, pointing at your ear.
“Sure thing.” Rolling closer on a chair, he marked the spot you indicated and handed you a mirror. “Like that?”
When you gave your approval, he went back to the desk to prepare the necessary equipment and sterilised it. The silence prompted you to ask the question that has been burning on your tongue for a while now. “So your name is Scara?”
“Scaramouche is my artist name, I’m going by that,” he replied. “But Scara is fine.”
You didn’t have much time to wonder about the implications of using an artist name because a moment later, Scara appeared in front of you again. Needle in hand, his eyes came level with yours again. Up close, you could make out all the tiny specks of amethyst caught in the light and his scent invaded your senses.
“You ready?” he asked quietly, his low voice preserving the delicate atmosphere your proximity created. When you nodded, he gave you a small smirk, demeanour entirely changed from how you’d gotten to know him. “Alright, this is going to hurt a little but the pain will be brief. I need you to hold still through it, can you do that for me?”
Not trusting your voice, you nodded again as you swallowed. Latex met the side of your jaw in a ghost of a touch as Scara gently tilted your head the way he needed it. All nerve endings in your skin lit up as liquid fire spread from the tips of his fingers through your veins, the strange intimacy getting to you more than you could have prepared for.
You felt the Scara’s exhale brush your cheek as he positioned the needle and your warbled thoughts caught up with the situation the moment he pushed it through. But only when the jewellery followed did you flinch.
“There we go, the worst part is done,” he soothed. Giving the mirror back to you, he left you to admire his work as he got up. The calm call of your name pulled you from your own reflection as Scara held out a glass of water to you.
“Thanks,” you smiled before pausing. “Wait, did I even tell you my name?”
“Read it on your file,” he replied nonchalantly as you gave him an unimpressed glance.
“I’m sure that falls under poor etiquette,” you playfully chastised him.
“So? The outcome is the same, isn’t it?” he shrugged, yet you couldn’t help but find it endearing. “You good to go? C’mon, I’ll show you the way out.”
As you wrapped up the payment and Scara went over all the mandatory steps in taking care of your new piercing, you were well aware of the doors opening and the people peeping into your conversation. So much for privacy.
“Well then, that’s that.” The metal of his tongue piercing held your attention until Scara brushed some of his hair behind his ear, revealing a few piercings of his own. Among them was a helix which mirrored yours in placement. “Get home safe, yeah?”
“I will, thanks.” Your smile was filled with genuine gratitude. As you pushed through the glass door, you turned back to wave. “See you tomorrow!”
Maybe it was your imagination but as you left you thought there was an actual smile gracing his sharp features.
The next day, your spirits were high as they could be. Not only were you excited to show off your new accessory, you’d also been on cloud nine since leaving the piercing studio, butterflies stirring in your stomach every time you thought back to how he touched you. Perhaps what you were about to do was a little bold but you’d be damned if you didn’t shoot your shot.
As expected, Scara came in at the same time as every morning and you’d just finished brewing his coffee. He too seemed to be in a better mood than usual as he walked up to the counter. While you typed in his order, you made a bit of small talk over how your piercing was healing.
“It’s all good,” you laughed and showed the jewellery to him. “Almost like my piercer knew what he was doing.”
“You better believe that,” he countered. However, you didn’t miss the way his eyes seemingly lit up and crinkled at the edges, as they did when he smirked, when his gaze fell onto the piercing he put on you. His reaction gave you a boost of confidence for what you were about to do.
Handing him his cup, you wished him a great day and watched as he went to leave before stopping dead in his tracks. No doubt he discovered the little ‘If you ever feel like going for a coffee while I’m not working ♡ (and don’t whatever me!)’ you had scribbled onto the cup holder, followed by your phone number. You gave him a wink when he searched your eyes and watched him pull out his phone. A few seconds later your phone pinged.
Unknown number: whatever Unknown number: are you free this week?
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© the-travelling-witch 2023 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit
if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡
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hitomisuzuya · 6 months
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Gamer!Scaramouche x fem!reader. Cock warming. Smut. Degradation. Scara receiving praise and encouragement. Mean!Scara
Think he should win this time? I think he should. As promised, here is more Gamer!Scara smut. This is just pure filth, honestly. Btw, I loved the movie🥰
Scaramouche was ready to send Freddy back to hell. That top hat wearing shit wasn't going to get the best of him tonight. He was halfway into Night Two, and despite the fact you were whimpering quietly in his ear, he found he was able to concentrate with his cock resting between your warm, clenching walls.
Having you cock warm him while he played was the best idea he'd come up with in awhile. He was quite proud of himself.
"You are doing so good, Scara," You encouraged, nuzzling your face lovingly into his neck. You nipped at his earlobe, shifting in his lap as you craned your head down to kiss his neck. "You'll win this time, for sure. I just know it."
God, your praises were making his cock throb. Noticing nothing really going on on the cameras yet, Scaramouche dipped his hand down to rub your clit. The tighter your walls clamped around his cock, the better he concentrated. Damn it if he didn't want to fuck you raw, right now though.
But he had a victory to achieve first.
He made sure your skirt was well hiked up around your hips, giving him a good view of the way his cock glistened shiny from your arousal when he bounced you a little on his cock to tease you.
"Please, please, let me bounce a little, please," You pleaded, feeling his the head of cock nudging against your sweet spot a little.
"Quit whining, slut," Scaramouche said, pinching your clit between his fingers. He smirked when your back arched, putting his hands firmly on your hips to halt your pathetic attempts to discreetly bounce on his cock for relief. "I'm trying to concentrate."
You mewled, ultimately doing as you were told. You dropped your head into his neck, trying to keep yourself busy by nuzzling and kissing his neck again. His degradation only served as fuel to make your cunt clench around his cock.
You still tried to reason with him anyways. You couldn't help yourself. Your cunt was practically sucking his cock in, resting against your sweet spot in a way that your legs shake. "Pretty please, it won't take me long to cum," You grinded needily in his lap, making him smack a hand across your ass.
He believed you. "You are cock warming me, not fucking me,"Scaramouche hissed, gritting his teeth as you yelped in pleasure. Denying you would only make you feel more sensitive for him.
"But I..I," You licked a line across his neck, smiling a little when you heard him let out a shaky sigh of pleasure. "I really want you."
Growling because he had to take his eyes off of the cameras to quiet you down, Scaramouche roughly grasped your jaw, and picked your head up from his neck. He kissed you to shut you up. He explored your mouth with his tongue, smirking against your lips as you melted from the kiss. "You just be quiet, and take it," His hand lightly smacked your throbbing clit, his teeth nipping at your lower lip when he pulled away
You moaned in bliss, your arms tightening around him. You nodded, tears burning in your eyes as you struggled to sit still. It was bad enough that before he set you on his cock, he'd made you sopping wet by teasing and dragging his tongue across your clit.
It felt like an eternity to you before Night Five came around, and Freddy made his move. Scaramouche reached down to rub your clit occasionally as he checked every camera over and over again until..
"HA! Fuck yes, and fuck you, Freddy!" Scaramouche suddenly declared his victory. He'd finally won before he forked over the money (willingly) to take you the movie later, making victory taste even sweeter for him.
"Guess what, doll? You can starting bouncing now," Scaramouche smacked a a rougher hand on your ass, groaning when you immediately started riding him like your life depended on it.
Feeling his cock repeatedly stretching your walls apart as he slammed against your sweet spot, your skin slapping against his, nearly made you fall limp against him.
"Your cunt is suffocating my cock..fuck..," Scaramouche moaned, pressing his fingers into the skin on your hips as he bullied his cock deeper inside of you. He lifted you off his cock just to abruptly drop you back down on it.
You screamed in pleasure, making him laugh. "Is my slut going to cum, hm? You nodded, your moans sounding pornographic as he held you still in his lap, gripping your hips.
Scaramouche craned his head down, flicking his tongue over your nipple once he yanked your shirt and your bra down off one of your breasts. All it took was a few more rough thrusts into your tight cunt to make you squirt, your body shaking from the intensity of your orgasm.
Hearing you babble in his ear about how you love him, and how only he could fuck you this good made his warm cum gobb and ribbon inside of you. He clutched you against him, fucking his cum back up inside of you.
Scaramouche gave you a long, sloppy kiss as he slowed you to a stop. He was panting a little as he pulled away, sighing content when you licked submissively at his mouth with a fucked out expression on your face. "Now go get ready. The movie is at 8."
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aestherin · 21 days
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KEEP MY HEART
goal 22: my money, my choice
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KEEP MY HEART — scara x reader smau
previous . masterlist . next
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SUMMARY — you find plenty of guys around you attractive, but there is only one you’re willing to make the first move on: the guy you first saw during your older brother’s soccer game. spoiler: he's a player from your rival university.
TAGLIST I (closed)
@kararisa @krnzysh @syriiina @your-kuya-pogi @xiaosonlybeloved @xiaomainlmao @cindywasneverhere @coquettemaiden @sunsethw4 @lunavixia @calickoh @arealistonao3 @youthingazi @zyilas @mondaymelon @yukiipc @heartswonder @st0pthatsgay @ozzierenato @astreaa-express @shewolfmiko @lovelyycherries @myaaones @countessqin @aloveablechaos @letthewindlead @lunaavity @local-blueberry-boy @luminestars @layla240 @useless-potatho @atlaszi @alatusorrow @lahsram2201 @sakiimeo @user11918163805279 @vqazx @neigesprincess @kunicrush @yoursockstinks @hotgirlshit5 @mikctp @crucnhice @apotatouwu @yuaenri @sammybeefangirls @miko1ly @deffenferofjustice @etherisy @sagegreenthinks
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wanderingxiao · 4 months
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hhhhhhhhhh omg ur works are so good!!!!!11! can i request for scara x reader where scara lets us be dominant plsssss (w penetration) this is my first time requesting sooo- THANK YOU ZEPHYRRRRRRRRRR 🥹🥹🥹🥹🖤🖤🖤
Good Boy~
Scaramouche x Reader *NSFW*
Warnings: Fem! Dom, Riding, cursing, teasing, mentions of mommy, praising, begging, unprotected sex, and a creampie to finish 💜
A/N: This honestly got so away from me. It’s longer than I had originally intended. But I hope you enjoy it!! 💜
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Frantic flurries of hands gripping at clothing blurred in the eyes of the two passionate lovers. Your hands were rushing up his abdomen to rest over his chest, your wrists pushing his clothing up his body. His own hands hastily unzipping your dress from behind, pulling at the spaghetti straps of your dress to push it off your lovely body that always drove his mind into an animalistic frenzy.
“Mmph~ Scara wait-“ He scoffed softly against your lips, pulling his hands away for a moment to rid himself of his clothing, leaving him only in his pressed slacks with a shiny belt shimmering under the dim lighting. “What? Spit it out.” His hands were on you in seconds, exploring your bare skin and tugging at your bra, eager to get it off and let your breasts bounce free into his grabby hands. “I wanna top tonight.” His muscles tensed, his eyes narrowing in surprise and question at your bold request. “Huh?”
His movements had halted and he was staring at you, his face a light pink in embarrassment and arousal. You held a determined look on your face, and you pushed on his chest firmly, pushing him to fall back against the generous cushion of the mattress. “You heard me Scara. I want to top tonight. I want to make you feel good… Please?” He couldn’t deny your begging and how you batted your eyelashes cutely at him, it always made him weak in the knees whenever you pleaded so sweetly. He couldn’t resist.
Your fingertips were like ice on his hot body, trailing lovingly up his abdomen to his pectorals. The firm sight of his toned abdomen came under your sinful gaze, dirtying him with your mind in the best of ways. Goosebumps littered his pale smooth skin, his cock beginning to strain harder against his pants at your heated touch. “You can be a good boy and let mommy make you feel good can’t you?”
Fuck was that one of the hottest things he had ever heard you say. His mommy issues were flaring up, and all he wanted right now was for you to take care of him in the best of ways. His head frantically nodded, his heart beginning to pound against his chest watching a sly smile spread over your soft lips. Your fingers traced back down his body, stopping at his belt before tugging teasingly at the belt that was snuggly buckled around his hips.
“These are in my way, Scara. Can you move them for me baby? Please?” Your voice was like honey. Sickingly sweet and oh so tempting. His body moved to your will, your words sending a rush of excited anticipation coursing through his veins. His slender fingers toyed with the silver buckle of his belt, slipping it through the hole and pulling the leather out of the loops of his pressed slacks. “Awe, such a good boy. Keep going.”
He flung the belt across the room, not even bothering to look where it might have landed. His fingertips unzipped his slacks, shimmying them down his slender tone legs before throwing them to the floor haphazardly to accompany his forgotten belt. His boxers were tight, a generous patch of wetness visible as his flushed tip clung to the dampened fabric of his boxers. It twitched gingerly under your erotic gaze, sending his stomach into a spiral of hot arousal.
“Mmm, look at you baby. Already twitching. You want me that bad?” You cooed softly to your lover, reaching behind yourself to unclasp your lacy bra. The straps slid off your shoulders seductively, the brassiere falling off your arms and being tossed amongst the floor. Scaramouche’s eyes immediately fell to your lovely breasts. He could feel his mouth salivating at the sight. The undeniable curve and jiggle, the erectness of your nipples, he wanted to punch and suck on them so bad. “Nothing to say? You’re making me shy…”
“Tsk!” He clicked his tongue in distaste when you feigned your shyness, his cheeks beginning to flush in embarrassment at the lack of words that refused to come from his lips. Anything he wanted to say died within his throat the moment you revealed more and more of your body to him. “Just… c-c’mon. I’m gettin’ impatient here.” His eyebrows knit together, his lip getting caught between his teeth watching your expression morph into one of mischief. “So demanding… not even a please? How rude. You don’t wanna be bad do you?”
“N-No… P… Please just fuck me… mommy….” A sly grin spread over your lips, loving the sound of your oh so dominant lover’s shaky voice pleading for you to fuck him like he wants. “See? Not too hard yeah?” He watched with bated breath as your fingers hooked around the edges of your panties, pulling them down just enough for him to see a lewd string of your dripping arousal attached to your panties and your slick inviting cunt. His cock twitched in his boxers, pre-cum pearling from the angry tip.
He swallowed hard when he saw the sinful string snap, his mouth drooping open slowly as slow and heavy breaths heaved against chest. Once your panties were discarded his boxers were tugged down, letting his hardened length smack against his toned abdomen. He could feel your body heat above him, practically radiating a scorching feeling of overwhelming lust and affection. The wetness of your folds rubbed over his sensitive tip, pulling a deep moan from his chest at the feeling.
“Beg me… to fuck you baby~ be a good boy and fucking beg.” Scaramouche bit his lip harder, his eyes focused on the way his tip slid between your folds and brushed so lovingly at your clit. His cock twitched against your pussy, eager to feel the warm tightness of your cunt around him. He let out a shaky breath, finally coming to make eye contact with you as you hovered over him teasingly. ���P… Please… fuck me…”
“What was that? I can’t hear you baby, speak up.” Your sly grin drove him crazy. If he knew you would be this hot when topping him he would’ve let you do this a long time ago. His cheeks flushed darker, a sharp glare sparking within his indigo eyes. “Please just fuck me already damnit! F-Fuck I want it so bad… I fucking need it. Please, please mommy, please take my cock in your pretty pussy… Want to… cum inside you and fill you up. Please, just fu- Ngh!!”
Hearing his sexy begging was too much, and you sunk onto him immediately, taking all of his thick girth at once. You both moaned in unison, the generous throb of his cock making your knees grow weak beside his hips. His hands hastily came to rest against your thighs, squeezing the plush flesh between his fingers for support. Your hips rocked back and forth against him, puffy clit grinding against his pelvis sending sparks of electric pleasure through your nerves.
“A-Ahh, Scara, so deep baby… ngh… good boy~” With steady movements, you rested your hands against his abdomen, supporting yourself while you rode his cock. Scarsmouche turned into a moaning and whining mess. God did it feel good to be dominated for once. He hated the idea of being submissive, he needed to have control of his life. Something in his past or something. But right now, letting you take care of him like this, was the best feeling in the world. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Y-Yes mommy… yes… hah!”
“Hah, someone’s feeling- Mmhh!- good huh?” Scaramouche nodded his head, his eyes coming to close as he solely focused on the way your pussy engulfed his cock so perfectly. The lovely curves of your cunt, the warmth, the sounds, the pure bliss of how it practically sucked him in. His hips bucked against yours, the hands on your thighs coming to push you back down. “Mmh! S-So needy, Scara~ C-Can’t even keep -hmm!- y-your hands to yourself!”
“Sh-Shut up! Hah, keep going…!” You grabbed onto his arms, pushing yourself harder to ride him faster. His eyes peeked open slowly, relishing the way your breasts bounced freely as you rode him. His gaze then cast down to the clear and slick sheen that coated his cock from your juices. He watched with bated breath as your pussy took his cock over and over again, appearing and disappearing again and again.
“Y-Yeah, k-keep fucking me… just l-like that, ngh! Keep going, please mommy! Fuuuuck!” He couldn’t help but keep watching, his hips involuntarily continuing to jerk relentlessly up into your bounces. The sloshing sounds of your sexes meeting filled the room, accompanied by the wet smack of his thighs against your ass and both your sinful moans. “Mhm! Yes! Yes, yes, yes, h-hah! Gonna cum… P-Please make me cum mommy!”
“Me too… Mmph!” Scaramouche pulled his arms away from you, pushing himself up to wrap his arms around you tightly. His face buried into your neck, inhaling your scent. You were all around him, clogging his senses and overwhelming his nerves. “Scara! Scara, ahh! C’mon baby… c-cum inside me! Be a good boy a-and fill me up! C’mon! Cum, cum, cu- ngh!”
“Fuck! Mommy!” His hands frantically flew to your hips, forcing your body up and down faster, using your body to reach his high. You could feel his chest pressing against yours, your boobs bouncing against his hard chest and smacking against his skin. His muscles and balls tightened, his cock beginning to throb and twitch inside you. It wasn’t long until he shoved you down harshly, finally ribboning his generous seed into your deepest crevices.
“Scara~! Hah!” Your abdomen was warm and tight, your own body glistening in sweat as you pressed against your lover. You could feel your combined fluids beginning to dribble out of your pussy, becoming flooded with his cum and the gush of your cream around the base of his length. “Hah… g-good boy.” Your praise sent his mind spiraling to the point where he was beginng to be dizzy. From the overstimulation of your cunt squeezing him so tightly or the mind numbing way you praised him.
“C-can we go again?” He looked up at you, his eyebrows creased upwards and a pleading look in his fucked out indigo eyes. Your eyes widened in surprise. You hadn’t expected him to enjoy the praise and dominance so much. His hard exterior crumbled within seconds of your pleasure. Your lips curled into a grin, leaning in to kiss his lip softly. If he was going to be submissive for one night, might as well give him his full before his walls began to rebuild.
“Of course~ anything for my good boy.”
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Got carried away with this… working on more requests! Thanks for your patience! ;) 💜
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