Scaramouche X You - Blog Posts

⠀𐔌 . ⋮ raisin rage .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

ʚ motorcyclist! scaramouche x fem! reader ɞ

synopsis: a creamy medium brick-berry lipstick stain with an undertone of warm brown is what’s painted on scaramouche’s helmet and fuck, all can he remember is that very same shade painted on your pretty lips.

genres: romance (implied mutual attraction, but it's mainly kuni being down bad LMAO), modern au + smau.

word count: 745.

author's note: part of the same universe as my xiao smau fic, the chase! i just had to get this fic out of my system haha. thank you to my bf for helping me with the scenes mwah but please ignore the time stamps! 🥺 this'll have a part two so stay tuned :>

‎‧₊ ─ masterlist .ᐟ ༘

You were late, atrociously late to the dinner at Xinyue Kiosk.

Clinicals had run late and when you had gotten home you were forced to throw your soiled scrubs into the wash before scrubbing down your skin raw in fears of any bodily fluids landing on your skin unnoticed.

But just as you saw the restaurant in your sights, your phone in your hands vibrates profusely and you belatedly realized that you had missed your lipstick.

Wincing at the memory of Hutao and Lumine clowning you last time for missing your infamous ‘boy killer lipstick,’ you’re about to curse as you realize you’ve forgotten your compact mirror.

But you eyes catch onto a bike helmet sitting atop a motorcycle with a shiny, reflective visor and desperation has you quickly striding towards it.

Back bowing lowly to match the height if the visor, like a clockwork, you quickly and effortlessly line your lips before popping your lipstick cap.

The bullet of the warm brick-red lipstick glides smoothly on your bottom lip but before you’re able to move onto your upper lip, the helmet is suddenly lifted from your view.

Eyes fluttering up, you meet unamused pools of indigo lined by red eyeliner that seems to make the unknown man's eyes pop. 

And despite his flat expression, you note the man as cute and incredibly attractive.

“You need some help?” He mockingly mutters as your back immediately straightens before he sits himself on what you presume to be his bike.

But before you’re able to respond, he slips his helmet on and flips the visor back up. “Go find another mirror to apply your scarlet red lipstick, doll.” His words are nonchalant yet so infuriating.

You repress the urge to roll your eyes before a sweet smile adorns your face, completely missing the way the man’s eyes widen slightly.

“Actually, love, it’s a warm brick-red shade.” You murmur, honeyed words dripping with a false sweetness.

┊ ੈ✩‧₊*°࿐ྂ。

Before Scaramouche is able to retort to your smart ass comment, you move closer, borderline invading his space before you flick his visor down.

He’s surprised by your audacity yet he’s also taken off guard with how pretty you looked when you had smiled earlier.

Even if he knew it was to mask your annoyance from his previous jab, the memory seems to persist in his mind, bright and incredibly clear.

You push closer, your face mere inches from his helmet clad face as a teasing glint sparkles in your eyes. 

He finds himself entranced with the entirety of you, your pretty looks, dreamy smile, and how you swapped blows with him so easily.

“To answer your first question, yes, I do need help. Now sit still and let me apply my lipstick, pretty boy.” You hum lowly—mockingly—and Scaramouche is grateful you’ve flicked his visor down as he knows his heated ears are flushed red.

In all of the years Scaramouche has been alive, he’s never really found himself speechless, always having a retort ready. But as his eyes trace the bullet of your lipstick painting your lips oh so prettily, he swallows down his harsh remarks.

“So,” He coughs slightly and he revels in how your eyes flicker to his eyes behind the visor, eyes defiant and ready to fight. “Mind telling me the shade so I can get it right next time?”

You smile, eyes crinkling and smile lines showing, and Scaramouche feels his chest tighten slightly. 

Fuck, you’re stunning.

“Rum raisin.” Your laugh is sweet, soothing and absolutely alluring that it had him floundering.

If sirens were real, Scaramouche would vehemently say that you were one, an enchanting voice accompanied with bewitching looks personified.

“Thank you, pretty.” He mumbles and he feels a swell of pride when he sees you flush slightly.

But Scaramouche swears his heart nearly fucking stops when you lean in, placing a candied kiss on his visor.

Fuck fuck fuck-

“A gesture of thanks!” You sing softly yet so teasingly and in his dazed state, Scaramouche doesn’t realize that you’ve disappeared behind the doors of Xinyue Kiosk.

A few minutes pass and Scaramouche hastily pulls his helmet off, feeling the cool air against his heated skin. 

“Holy shit-“ He finds himself muttering as he gazes at his helmet visor longingly, drowning in thoughts of you.

Scaramouche recalls of how the warm brick-red lipstick beautifully colored your lips and how you charmingly said Rum Raisin-

“Fuck.” He swears, feeling his skin heat up again.

© 2025 𝐌𝐘𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆-𝐈𝐕. do not copy, repost, share, or translate any of my works to tiktok, instagram, and/or any other websites/platforms.

Melody of the Forgotten

The grand opera house of Sumeru City was the jewel of the nation’s artistic world, a towering edifice of stone and glass, alive with music and drama. Its stage had seen performances that transcended the mortal plane, and its corridors echoed with the whispers of stories long forgotten. You had been drawn to it from a young age, captivated by the splendor of the performances, the allure of the music, and the dream of one day performing on that hallowed stage yourself.

And now, that dream was within reach. You had been accepted into the opera’s prestigious company, your voice singled out as one with great potential, a rising star in the world of song. The opera house had become your second home, its backstage corridors a maze of opportunity and challenge.

But there was another presence in the opera house, one that the performers rarely spoke of—at least, not aloud. There were stories, rumors whispered among the stagehands and the older performers, of a phantom who haunted the opera house. He was said to be a master of disguise, a shadowy figure who could slip between worlds unseen. His moods were as tempestuous as the sea, his emotions unpredictable as the wind. He was both feared and revered, his influence felt in every corner of the grand theater.

No one had ever seen his face. And those who claimed to know more often spoke in cryptic tones, as if afraid to say too much. Some said he wore a mask, hiding some hideous deformity, while others claimed that he was a spirit—an echo of an ancient, forgotten soul who could never rest.

You had dismissed these stories at first, focusing instead on your training. But soon, you began to notice strange things—small, unsettling signs that you were not as alone as you once thought. At times, you would catch a fleeting glimpse of a figure in the wings, watching your rehearsals. Doors that had been locked would mysteriously open, and you would hear faint whispers in the corridors when you were sure you were alone. Most unnervingly, though, you began to find letters—perfectly folded pieces of parchment, slipped under your dressing room door.

The first letter had been a simple compliment: “Your voice is like the first breath of dawn—pure, yet aching with potential. Do not waste it.” It was unsigned, written in an elegant hand, but you had a suspicion it was from the phantom.

From that point on, the letters became more frequent, sometimes offering advice on your performances, other times cryptic messages that left you pondering their meaning for hours. And slowly, you began to realize that the phantom, whoever he was, had taken an interest in you—an obsession, even.

One evening, after a particularly demanding rehearsal, you lingered on the stage, watching as the candles in the chandelier flickered, casting long shadows across the empty seats. The house was quiet now, the other performers having retired for the night. You stood alone in the vast, echoing space, your heart still pounding from the intensity of your singing. You could feel eyes on you, though you saw no one.

"Why do you hide in the shadows?" you called out, your voice barely above a whisper, yet confident.

There was no immediate response, but you could sense something shifting in the air. Then, from the darkness of the wings, a figure stepped into the dim light—tall, with a slender frame and an air of theatricality about him. His face was obscured by a half-mask, covering the right side of his face, leaving only his left eye visible, cold and calculating.

It was him. The Phantom.

Or rather, Scaramouche.

He was known by many names—the Balladeer, the Wanderer, the Sixth Harbinger—but here, in the shadows of the opera house, he was the phantom. His movements were precise, his posture one of practiced elegance, as though every step was part of an unseen performance. His dark hair framed his mask, and though his lips were hidden in shadow, you could feel the weight of his gaze on you.

"You're brave," he said, his voice smooth and velvety, with a hint of danger lurking beneath. "Most would flee at the mere mention of me. But not you."

Your breath caught in your throat, but you refused to look away. "You’ve been watching me."

He tilted his head slightly, a slow, deliberate gesture that sent a shiver down your spine. "Yes," he admitted, with no hint of apology. "Your voice—it is unlike anything I’ve heard in years. Pure, yet raw. It needs... guidance."

His words hung in the air, and you felt a strange mixture of fear and fascination. Scaramouche was as much a part of the opera house as the stone pillars and velvet curtains, and now he stood before you, a living mystery wrapped in enigma and shadow.

"I don’t need your guidance," you said, though your voice trembled just slightly. "I’ve made it this far on my own."

He chuckled, the sound low and mocking. "Is that what you think? Do you believe you’ve come this far through sheer talent alone? No... you’ve had help—whether you knew it or not."

His words sent a chill through you. "What do you mean?"

Scaramouche’s visible eye gleamed with amusement, and he took a slow step closer. "I’ve been behind the scenes, pulling the strings. I have arranged for you to be noticed by the company, whispered in the ears of those in power. Without me, you would still be singing for an empty hall. You owe me... everything."

Your mind raced, trying to comprehend what he was saying. Had he been manipulating your career from the start? The realization struck you like a cold wave of fear and anger.

"I didn’t ask for your help," you said, your voice firmer now, though your heart was pounding.

He laughed again, this time with more cruelty. "No. But I gave it nonetheless. And now..." His eye darkened, his tone shifting to something far more possessive. "Now you belong to me."

The finality in his voice left no room for argument, and for the first time, you felt the weight of his obsession settle over you. You had always thought of him as a distant figure, a myth that haunted the opera house, but now, here he was—real, tangible, and far more dangerous than you had imagined.

"What do you want from me?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Scaramouche’s gaze lingered on you, his eye narrowing slightly as if assessing your every thought. Then, in a swift motion, he moved closer, his gloved hand reaching out to tilt your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"I want your voice," he said softly, but there was a dark hunger in his tone. "I want it to sing only for me. I want to shape it, control it, make it perfect."

You tried to pull away, but his grip tightened, his fingers cold against your skin. "You don’t understand," he continued, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, almost tender. "I have waited so long for something... someone... who could complete my music. I’ve seen mediocrity, incompetence, but you... you are different."

His obsession was suffocating, the intensity of his words sinking into your bones. You could feel the weight of his desire pressing down on you, and for the first time, you understood the full extent of his control.

"I’m not your puppet," you said, your voice shaking with fear and defiance.

Scaramouche’s lips curled into a cruel smile beneath his mask. "No... you’re not. You’re something far more precious. But make no mistake—you are mine."

The candlelight flickered as his words echoed in the empty opera house, and you felt the walls closing in around you. You were trapped in his web, caught between fear and fascination, between a desire to run and an inexplicable pull that kept you rooted in place.

"I can make you a star," he said, his voice turning soft, seductive. "I can give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of. Fame, fortune... all of it. All you have to do is sing for me."

You hesitated, the temptation of his offer gnawing at the edges of your resolve. There was something irresistible about his words, something that made you want to believe him, to trust him.

But deep down, you knew the truth. Scaramouche was no savior. He was a phantom, a manipulator, a creature of shadows who sought to control you for his own ends.

"You don’t control me," you said firmly, stepping back from him.

For a moment, Scaramouche’s smile faltered, his eye flashing with anger. But then, just as quickly, the mask of calm returned.

"Perhaps not yet," he said softly, though his tone carried an unmistakable threat. "But in the end, you will sing for me. Because there is no one else who understands you like I do. No one else who can bring out the true potential in your voice."

He stepped back, his form blending into the shadows once more, his presence as ghostly as ever.

"You will sing for me," he repeated, his voice lingering in the air as he disappeared into the darkness. "Sooner or later... you will."

The opera house was silent once more, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a curse. And as you stood alone on the stage, you knew that your fate was now intertwined with his, bound by the melody of his obsession.

Hi! May I request prompt #1 from hurt/comfort prompts with Scaramouche?

Of course anon!

Have a secret, can you keep it?

Warning's: yandere type themes, mentions of kidnapping, this prompt is slightly inspired by @merakiui's bitter sweet secret fan fiction!

Pronouns: gender neutral. 

Synopsis: getting blackmailed into staying in a relationship with etc character, being the perfect doll the perfect secret you have to keep it.

He scared you, splattered in red and a scent so prude that you felt like running away but you couldn't run. Your feet jammed to the floor as you watched your family get slaughtered by this merciless man who didn't care what you saw.

He then approached you and told you to come with him and you couldn't decline because you knew you would be killed too. In his eyes it didn't matter who it was and he just found you as a new doll to pick up and play with. “afraid?” he asked with a smile as you kept silent.

What were you supposed to respond with anyway? “I asked are you afraid?” his voice was more stern and strict, like he wanted an answer, so you nodded.

Laughter filled the room but it felt empty and mocking like he found this amusing, he stared at you and leaned down bringing his cold blood stained hands to your face and there was that smile of victory... No, it was the smile of a despicable man who found pleasure in your horror.

The next thing that happened was your vision being blurry; you didn't even realize he had injected something into your body while he leaned down to your helpless self and smiled. You woke up and looked around to see no one around the place felt cold and small and frankly, it reminded you of a closet.

Weirdly, the silence was comforting. Anything is comforting other than that man's voice; you shuddered at the thought of having to see him again, but he did kidnap you because this surely isn't your house.

Speaking of the devil, the door to the closet room opened and you saw him again as he smiled and leaned down “dolls shouldn't look broken right?” he asked, and you stayed silent. “you won't respond.. Oh well, I placed some clothes outside, go get ready and don't dare to try anything funny or I will make sure you never see the light of day” another sick smile from him. You wondered how many enemies he must have with such an attitude, probably near a thousand at least.

You did as told and dressed up for him; it felt like your soul was getting sucked out of you. It felt like that, that's for sure.

You felt like a doll, getting dressed up and playing out as if your family did not just get killed by this man you saw only once in your life, it felt as if this was a nightmare that you will never wake up from and that scared you. You were now his secret and he will keep you no matter what is said.

Imagine scaramouche actually being nice to you??? It feels like the sun rose from the wrong direction, you even checked his temperature to see if he was sick or not.

"why the hell are you acting so stupid" he asked you "nothing.. I just thought you hit your head on the wall" he looked slightly taken aback and yelled at you "are you insulting me!?" you gave him a small sarcastic smile as you opened your mouth to mock him "of course not my lord" and he stood up and rushed out (he did not talk to you for half of the day, he wanted you to admit that you were wrong for mocking him when he was nice to you but you didn't and he couldn't stay mad forever) well he could but I'm not going to write about that

Random scaramouche hcs

I just know he calls you stupid as a "cute" nickname maybe even something harsh then that.

When he would start to trust you [it takes some time for him] he tells you he loves you, maybe when you're asleep because he doesn't want you to tease him.

Call him short and he will nOt talk to you for a whole day.

I feel like he would be very subtle in affection, if you need it then he'll throw his pride away and comfort you

Not much but,, he likes it when you show him affection and when you kiss his cheeks he feels himself getting hot and if you end up mentioning it to him he'll be even more red.

☆ scummy scara drabble

headcannons I suppose

cw(s) : smut, afab! fem! reader, cumming quickly, weird scara, weird reader ??

I actually love scummy scara

he's a virgin loser who has never felt the touch of a woman.

↳ scummy scara who froths at the mouth like a rabid animal whenever he sees you

it doesn't even have to be you dressed up in any type of way, scara just automatically follows you with his eyes and imagines all the (im)possible scenarios and fantasies he has with you

when you do dress up a bit skimpier than usual, he'd be ogling at you, thinking of how you proved him wrong by thinking that you couldn't look any hotter than you already did.

↳ scummy scara who is inexperienced and has unrealistic ideas about sex

↳ scummy scara who wants to play out his cringy imagination (which he gets from the anime he watches)

↳ scummy scara who can't believe that it's all real when you finally do talk to him !

↳ scummy scara has a nosebleed when you've straddled his lap, him getting a full view of you pulling up your shirt to reveal your plush breasts that he dreamt of seeing up close

↳ scummy scara who can't muster up any words, moaning like a whore and cumming within seconds when he bottoms out in your warm cunt

↳ scummy scara feels like he's in heaven as you tease and bounce on his cock, which you claim is "surprisingly big"

scaramouche cries when you lean down to give him a peck on the lips. he's in disbelief that you're in his room, all cuddled up on his chest.

you can't help but let out a small laugh, finding him adorable in the way he reacts. he's never touched a girl, let alone talked to a girl longer than needed, so he's in awe as he blushes at the proximity you're both in.

it's so... intimate. your skin is so soft, and you're so warm and much more tiny than he imagined (not to mention, way more charming and hotter than he imagined in his little scenarios).

without realizing it, he had grew another erection.

you quickly felt it twitch and throb slightly against the fat of your ass, and you couldn't help but to tease the boy a little.

"you're ready for another round?" you smiled, flipping the both of you over, with him onto this time.

"how about you try topping me, lover boy? just try not to cum too quickly this time."

scaramouche was shaking as his hands made his way about, feeling confused and scared to think about touching your sacred body.

his worries were eased as you guided him, and he couldn't help but slap his hips into your warm and wet cunt in a frenzy once he bottomed out, because it felt too good not to.

your moans and words of affirmation made him melt into the crook of your neck, as he tried to be good and listen to you, trying his best not to cum quickly.

"f-fuck... s-sorry...! ah! I might cum soon..." he whined out, feeling you clench around his cock.

"... it's okay, cum for me." you managed to coo out to him between your soft pants. scaramouche came instantly, feeling weak in the knees as he collapsed onto you.

you smiled, realizing that he fell asleep from exhaustion.

scaramouche, despite his watching and curious looks towards you, never realized that you noticed his shy glances. it was cute, you thought.

you would wait in spots where you saw him sometimes, just to see his reaction to your newest low-cut top. and you would purposefully bend down in front of him when you wore a skirt, all just to see his face contort nervously, and to see his cheeks redden.

the thought of tainting his image of you being innocent and sweet was all too tempting, and you finally had him wrapped around your little finger.

𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 24𝐓𝐇 — 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬! ღ

↳ scaramouche

you happened to get stuck in a suggestive manner, and scaramouche can't resist helping himself have his way with you before he gets you out

cw(s): afab! fem! reader, cliché trope, lingerie, bows, doggystyle, cum, he calls you a slut and whore, hinting of a blow job and long night near the end | 𝐗𝐎𝐗𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

"I'm home."

SCARAMOUCHE let out a sigh, feeling relaxed now that he was home, but suspicious as soon as he didn't hear a "welcome home!" from you.

he wandered to the living room, quirking up a brow at the unusual and amusing sight.

there was a comical red and green Christmas themed gift box in the middle of the room, slightly ajar as your bottom half was left hanging outside of the box, your ass in full display for SCARAMOUCHE to see.

he came up behind you and gave you a loving little tap on the bottom, surprising you as you let out a shocked squeak.

"what happened here, hmm?"

"...I wanted to try getting into the box to surprise you, but the lid of the box is heavier than I thought... and now, I'm trapped here."

"help me out, would you?" the sound was a bit muffled, but scaramouche for sure, heard you.

"what do I get in return? there's no more surprise left for me with you stuck here like this." he hummed, grasping your hip.

"how about I get my present early, and then I let you out?" SCARAMOUCHE purred, lightly slapping your ass, caressing it afterwards.

"...fine. just don't ruin my lingerie or any—" riiip!

"oops."

SCARAMOUCHE already ripped the flimsy and thin fabric off, tossing it aside with a cocky grin, you imagined. "I'll buy you better and prettier sets, love."

SCARAMOUCHE rubbed his fingers against the lips of your cunt, spreading the lips and letting out a whistle as he felt and watched his digits get coated with your wet arousal. "so wet already," he murmured, feeling his cock strain against his clothing.

"makes me think you wanted this to happen, no?"

before you could deny it, he plunged his middle and ring finger into your warmth, thrusting and curling the tips of his fingers slightly. you let out a small whine, kicking your legs to protest his sudden ministrations, but another finger quickly shut you up.

a soft whimper left your lips as his fingers abruptly left your cunt, but you let out a loud squeak when he thrusted his cock inside. SCARAMOUCHE gave you a second before he started to thrust, his palms turning white as he gripped onto the plush of your ass.

"s-shit baby... this was the best gift you could've given me." SCARAMOUCHE reached impossibly deeper somehow, his tip fucking right into your cervix, causing you to cry out from inside of the box. "driving me crazy... what were you thinking, dressing up all pretty like a whore with your ass sticking out?"

"no way you expected me to not go and have my way with you..." he bit his lip, throwing his head back slightly as he panted. "dirty fuckin' slut... your plan was to pretend to get stuck, huh?"

the huge gift box shifted slightly with his movements, his hips rutting at an animalistic pace. SCARAMOUCHE felt his cock twitch, and your walls squeeze and flutter around his length. you tried to voice out to him that you were close but the sound was slightly muffled. besides, he already knew once your legs started to tremble.

he reached around to rub circles on your clit, murmuring incoherently to you.

"..c'mon, cum for me...'wanna see you squirt allllll over my cock, pretty girl." SCARAMOUCHE hummed, and you could imagine the shit eating grin that was plastered on his lips.

you whined, not being able to do anything besides chant his name out like a mantra. "s-scara... scara, scara, scaaara...!"

"ngh...! u-uwaaah...! 'm cumming, ...!!" the last few calls of his name from your lips came out slurred, as your climax was mindblowing, your legs spazzing, and eyes rolling to the back of your head as your mouth hung wide open. "that's it... g-good girl, h-haah.." SCARAMOUCHE continued to grind his hips further into yours, allowing you to ride out your high, as well as allow for him to reach his high.

SCARAMOUCHE moaned out profanities, his thick ropes of cum shooting deep inside you, making you feel warm and filled as you let out small whimpers from the shallow thrusts that he kept up.

feeling overstimulated, you came again, the walls of your cunt fluttering weakly around his cock. he let out a groan at this, his hips stopping once he pulled out and thrusted back in deeply one last time.

he pulled out, watching his seed ooze out of your cunt, which was clenching around nothing, due to the absence of his cock.

with a swift movement, SCARAMOUCHE lifted the lid up easily. he hoisted you out of the box by your waist, and then he plopped you down gently on the couch.

your makeup was slightly smudged and messed up, but it added to the charm, SCARAMOUCHE thought. his dick, which was soft, immediately stiffened up at the sight of you, all dolled up and pretty for him. the lingerie cutely cupping your plush boobs and accentuating all of your curves.

"fuckin' hell..." SCARAMOUCHE whispered underneath his breath as his eyes followed the way you slowly crawled towards him.

your expression feigned innocence, eyes sparkling as you blinked up at him through your lashes.

"how about I give you the rest of your present?" you smiled coyly, gently jerking his cock in your hand, guiding it towards your mouth.

"...how naughty of you." SCARAMOUCHE shakily sighed out as he felt your lips encase his sensitive and cute pink tip. his hand made its way to your head to guide you, his fingers gripping onto your hair lightly as he stared down at you with half lidded eyes.

"mhm. aren't you glad of how convenient it was that I was stuck there...?" you purred, winking at him.

"you slut... but whatever, it was a-ah..! the best gift I could've asked for."

𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 23𝐑𝐃 — 𝘶𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘤𝘰𝘢

↳ scaramouche & xiao (separate) × gn! reader

content: fluff, crack ? | 𝐗𝐎𝐗𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

small christmas scenarios with the two

↟ 𝙎𝘾𝘼𝙍𝘼𝙈𝙊𝙐𝘾𝙃𝙀

hates the idea, but goes along with your shenanigans because it's "christmas" and it makes you happy

he secretly enjoys it

"can't believe I'm wearing this hideous thing." SCARAMOUCHE scowled, staring down at the ugly sweater in disdain.

you merely rolled your eyes, dragging him by the arm to the kitchen. a cup was thrusted into his face, which he took skeptically.

"what? you've never had hot cocoa?"

"I've never been a fan of anything sweet." he retorted, staring at the assortment of sweet add-ons from the so-called 'hot cocoa bar'.

a small realization flashed on your face before you went to rustle in the cabinets, pulling out a newer container.

"I got some dark cocoa the other day, maybe you'll like this better." you hummed, handing him the instant cocoa powder.

SCARAMOUCHE hesitated a bit, but he scooped some of the powder into his cup of hot milk before stirring. your expectant eyes made him feel a bit pressured as he took a sip, expecting the worst.

to his dismay, it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.

"...it's okay." SCARAMOUCHE murmured out quietly, watching as you beamed at him.

"that's good!"

"how about we go put on a movie?"

SCARAMOUCHE throughout the movie kept refilling his cup of hot cocoa, which you noticed, but didn't say anything about until the both of you got drowsy on the couch after the movie.

"...how many cups of cocoa did you have, scara?"

to which he would remain silent for a bit, his cheeks flushing the slightest bit of red as he avoided replying, trying to come up with any excuse he could.

"I was a bit thirsty."

"yeah, sure. and you must be a bit cold." you snickered at him, eyeing up his decked out christmas attire; reindeer socks, plaid pants, and ugly cat sweater.

needless to say, SCARAMOUCHE was not going to live it down. especially since he got caught humming along to mariah carey's "all I want for christmas" despite talking shit about christmas music earlier.

↟ 𝙓𝙄𝘼𝙊

doesn't get the whole point of making gingerbread houses (to not really eat them) but he tries it for the sake of seeing you smile

doesn't like Christmas much, but he enjoys spending time with you

the two of you spent the afternoon making gingerbread houses, and the difference between the two were as clear as day and night.

XIAO's gingerbread house was collapsing in as you stared and compared it to your averagely decent looking one. his face was calm as he continued to frost his roof, but the weight of the sweet frosting was contributing more to the downfall of his house.

"xiao..." you tried to stifle a laugh, aware of how seriously he took the activity, as well as how hard he worked on it. "...good job, my love."

"thank you." XIAO replied, putting down the icing bag to dust off his fingers. his expression was stoic as usual, but his eyebrows gave you the impression that he was proud of his work.

you put a gumdrop up to his mouth, to which he obediently opened his mouth and ate. XIAO's face scrunched up a bit, but he swallowed it silently. you pulled him in for a sweet hug, melting into his side as you laughed.

"...these sweets aren't to my liking." he murmured, staring at the abomination of sugar before him.

"well, good thing we won't be eating them." XIAO's brow furrowed in confusion at what you said.

"what's the point of making it, then?"

"they're just for decoration usually."

XIAO was dumbfounded, but he nodded and decided to brush it off, instead focusing on helping you clean up.

the night ended off with cuddling, sweet whispers and quiet giggles exchanged between the two of you.

"did you enjoy building gingerbread houses together, xiao?"

he nodded, bringing his hand up to lightly stroke your cheek.

"I do not get the whole point of making them, only to use them as decoration, but...I'd enjoy anything as long as I'm doing it with you."

slap!

you giggled like a school girl, lightly hitting him on the shoulder. "such a smooth talker, who taught you to say such sweet and cheesy lines?"

"... it doesn't even compare to that gumdrop you fed me earlier." he scoffed, but a small smile graced his lips as he stared at you.

"but I'd eat as many gumdrops that you'd feed me if that means I get to see you beam at me in return."

XIAO didn't care for christmas. but he now does, because it means that he gets to spend more time with you, no matter how dumb or stupid he thinks the activity is.

ੈ✩↟‧₊˚ I'll be writing some sfw and nsfw pieces to celebrate the festive season! pieces will be updated as they go, and I hope that they bring you some type of joy

requests are always open!

will be written with a fem reader for the nsfw ones

⤿𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 23𝐑𝐃 — 𝘶𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘤𝘰𝘢

scaramouche & xiao

⤿𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 24𝐓𝐇 — 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬! ღ

scaramouche

⤿𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 25𝐓𝐇 — 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 ღ

xiao

ღ = nsfw

☆ softer scaramouche smut drabble

scaramouche x fem! reader

cw(s): afab! reader, creampie, missionary, cunnilingus, he calls you sweet girl

he couldn't help it.

as much as he acted like he hated the affections you showed him, he couldn't help but look forward to seeing you, hearing you voice your appreciation for him, as well as show him how much you loved him.

scaramouche's rough attitude and blunt way of speaking didn't translate over to his actions. his touch was soft and gentle when it came to you, this especially being present at times when he wanted to take it slow and cherish your body.

"you're insufferable... you know that?" scaramouche huffed softly, his hair falling over his eyes as he stared up at you.

despite his words, his face was flushed, eyes dilated as he delicately caressed his fingers into your sopping cunt. scaramouche watched you carefully for your reactions, a small smile making its way to his face as he leaned in and lapped away at your essence.

scaramouche made his way up to press a sweet kiss to your lips as your whole body shook and arched into his own. you swore you felt him smirk a bit into the kiss.

his garments fell and his hard cock rested in his fist as he pumped it slowly. scaramouche's precum coated the entirety of his fingers, and he let out soft moans as his cock laid against your bare pussy, rubbing his tip against your clit gently.

scaramouche let out a little whimper when his tip entered. the warmth and tight squeeze almost made him cum right there and then.

"f-fuck..." he groaned, throwing his head backwards in pleasure as he bit his lip. his gaze then followed from where you both were connected, up to your dilated blown out eyes, and flushed complexion.

to him, you were the prettiest thing. only he would ever see you like this, and it was almost comforting as he embraced you, thrusting at a languid pace.

soft cries left your mouth, to which he cooed gently and shushed you by locking your lips with a kiss.

scaramouche groaned, feeling your warm walls flutter around his cock, but he let out a small and proud huff as his fingers promptly trailed their way down to your clit. he traced circles on the sensitive bud, still thrusting as he watched you struggle to keep your eyes open.

"...close already?" scaramouche said it a bit gruffly, but the small smile he adorned told you how he felt otherwise. "cum for me then, sweet girl."

and just like that, you felt your climax hit you hard as your back arched off the bed, eyes rolled back, and mouth agape, stuttering moans leaving your lips.

he hummed quietly, watching you as he continued to move his hips to help you ride out your high.

"s-shit," scaramouche reached out for your hand, feeling his climax near from how hard you clenched around him.

"o-outside, or inside?" he hurriedly murmured next to your ear, feeling close. you wrapping your legs around his waist gave him the answer he needed as he jackhammered his hips even faster.

his hips stuttered into a gradually slower pace before stopping, some of his cum starting to leak as he tried to catch his breath a bit.

scaramouche pushed himself off of you after pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, rushing to run a towel under some warm water before cleaning the both of you up and handing you a water bottle.

it was only after he finished cleaning the both of you up that he decided to finally lay back down in bed with you, although with a bit of space in between the two of you.

finding it a bit strange, you quirked up a sleepy brow at him, to which he returned.

"what?"

"you wanna cuddle so bad..?" he continued.

"fine." scaramouche wrapped his arms around you before you could say anything, rolling his eyes a bit.

"you could've just asked, you know." he murmured.

"...but you didn't even give me a chance to speak."

☆ another scaramouche drabble

scaramouche x fem! reader

afab! reader, scaramouche is an asshole, fingering, edging, degrading, praise

he's such a tease

I like to think he mocks the way you beg and moan, snickering as his fingers have their way with you, as they thrust in and out lewdly.

"oh, just look at you... moaning like a whore for my fingers."

"feeling good, hm?" SCARAMOUCHE cooed mockingly, leaning in to press kisses along your neck. your whines and whimpers fueled him to tease you further, pulling his soaked digits away when he felt you start to squirm and shake in his hold.

he wore this cocky shit eating grin when he caught sight of your teary eyes and flushed, crest fallen expression.

when you throw away all pride and accept humility by begging, SCARAMOUCHE finally gives in.

it's worth it in the end because SCARAMOUCHE gives it his all, his only goal is to make you cum and let go around his fingers, to feel the walls of your sweet cunt flutter around his digits as he whispers absolute filth in your ears.

"good fuckin girl, you gonna cum? ...cum for me."

☆ drabble about scaramouche

gn!reader, cock sucking (head) 18+ !!, sub! scara, whiny scara

thinking about scara as a bottom...

he'd be so cute, denying that he feels good and squirming with every touch ! (because he's not used to normal touch anyways, so touching him intimately sends him into overdrive)

"f-fuuck..." scaramouche let out a small whine, quickly covering up his mouth with the palm of his hand. his hips bucked up into the wet cavern of your mouth, scaramouche's pelvis was flushed against your nose.

pulling away right when he's on the edge of cumming, watching his face fall and his eyes start to tear up as he stutters. scaramouche is flustered and upset that you pulled off of his throbbing and painfully hard cock.

"I didn't... I-I didn't tell you to stop...!"

god, the look on his face is priceless. he's debating whether he should throw away all of his pride and beg pathetically, or suffer from all of your teasing.

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞

☆ scaramouche

cw(s): degrading, creampie, fingering, mating press, posessive scara(?) reader is afab!

synopsis: smut with no plot.

"mmph..!" face down ass up, you let out a yelp and a few noises here and there when the fatui harbinger above you decided to speed up. you were stuffed to the brim with his cum and cock but you couldn't do anything but take it. he pressed your stomach against the bulge before you heard him let out a sigh. overstimulated, you let out a whine as you turned your head to look back at SCARAMOUCHE.

he raised a brow at you questioningly and you struggled to speak between moans, each attempt turning into a cluster of gibberish.

"what, fucked so dumb that you can't speak?" SCARAMOUCHE cooed in a mocking tone as he reached to toy with your sensitive bud. he felt you clench around his cock and he couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "s-scaramouche..." he nipped at your skin before letting out grunt in response.

"haven't I-ah! been a-mm..." SCARAMOUCHE thrusted deeper than he did previously, and you felt your legs on the brink of falling down from exhaustion, turning wobbly.

"continue," he grunted. "haven't I b-been good...?" you panted. no response was heard but he gripped onto your waist and flipped you over.

"I suppose you have." SCARAMOUCHE hummed. pulling your legs apart and up, he slid easily back into your entrance. his unrelenting pace had you drooling and sobbing, which had his ego soaring high. SCARAMOUCHE then stuck his fingers into your mouth and stared at you before scoffing.

"look at you... so messy and pretty." he murmured, admiring the look that you had in your eyes as you did your best to suck and lap away at his fingers. SCARAMOUCHE took his coated digits out of your mouth, leaning down to press a messy kiss to your lips. he bit your lip, tugging at it with a small smile as he heard you moan his name.

"you're so dirty, hm? such a dirty little thing for me..."

SCARAMOUCHE cooed at you, before trailing his hand down to rub at your clit. "gonna be good for me?" he panted, pulling out before thrusting his cock all the way back in.

"be good and let me cum inside you..."

"gonna have you nice n filled up, fucked n stupid for me, yeah?"

he hooked his arms under your legs, throwing them over his shoulders as he pressed your thighs against your chest, thrusting with reckless abandon before releasing. SCARAMOUCHE came with thick ropes of cum. his hips stuttered a couple of more times to ride out the high. your eyes rolled to see stars as you spurted all over his abdomen.

he chuckled, pulling out to watch as his cum dripped out, rolling down the plush fat of your ass. SCARAMOUCHE swiftly took his fingers, swiping at it, before thrusting his digits back into your warm cunt.

"u-ugh...! scara..." you groaned, clawing at his wrist desperately. SCARAMOUCHE smirked as he felt your walls flutter around his fingers, but he stopped, coming up to press a kiss to your forehead.

"you did good."

"but I won't stop next time, since all of you belongs to me."

liminal space °˖𓍢ִ໋🍃✿°.💚⋆ scaramouche!

summary: trapped in a space where time doesn’t make sense, an aspiring streamer and academic struggles to find their place in newfound fame and love and struggles to answer the age old question: does anything even matter anyway?

004. friends only minecraft server

🌿🍵🎧⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

previous 🌿 masterlist 🌿 next

omg ignore the time i was working on this i was going thru a crisis and needed an outlet >:)

also this is kind of filler, it’s gonna start picking up next time. just for curiosity’s sake and no reason: xiao or alhaitham?

taglist: @sl-vega @help-whatdoimakemyusername @axquella

liminal space °˖𓍢ִ໋🍃✿°.💚⋆ scaramouche!

summary: trapped in a space where time doesn’t make sense, an aspiring streamer and academic struggles to find their place in newfound fame and love and struggles to answer the age old question: does anything even matter anyway?

003. back tf up

i’m so sorry for the length between updates! my classes require my full attention since i’m set to graduate soon! also we forgo formatting bc tumblr on mobile sucks. hope you enjoyed!

🌿🍵🎧⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

previous 🌿 masterlist 🌿 next

taglist: @sl-vega @help-whatdoimakemyusername @axquella

if ur @ is bold i couldnt tag you i’ll work on it for the next one 😊

©🍰master.list

♡ No thoughts just Dom!Scaramouche who makes you call him lord Scaramouche while he's wrecking your insides no matter how embarrassing it feels, no matter how overwhelmed you are he always and forever expects you to pronounce it properly, can't have you tainting his graceful name you better be grateful he's even acknowledging you're pathetic body right now, not even to mention pleasuring you right know.

♡ Dom!Scaramouche who's definitely into fatui play, calling you his favorites little subordinate treating you as the mere nobody that you are, at his mere becking call at all hours of the night, he says jump you ask how high, he thinks that simple enough for a degenerate like you to understand isn't it? Don't disappoint now!

♡ Dom!Scaramouche who has the best aftercare from bubble baths, luxury meals, softest beds, washing your hair etc. all because you've been so good for him and you deserve a reward for being so obedient Dom!Scaramouche who goes extremely soft if you call him by his real name.

♡ Dom!Scaramouche who wants to show you how much he loves you for sticking by his side but just doesn't know how to put it in words so instead uses his actions.

꒷꒦ˑ ֗ ִ  T○UCH 

Serving size- 1.4k

Nutritional facts- Gn! Reader + Harbinger!Reader (scara’s part) + established relationship (childe & Sara's part)

Allergy warning- Daggers, attempted assault?? (nothing too serious)

Overview-  Reader has a very good sense of touch + Reader is very strong + love confession (bedo's part) 

Contents- albedo, childe, scara 

Instructions- best read in any mode

Formula- headcanons + fast fic (300 words )

Art credits-@Orange627 twt , stalva on pixiv

“Event master list” “Main master list” “Next"

Albedo

 ▸🧼 absolutely amazed by your enhanced sense, he asks questions about it all this time. Did you inherit it? Were you just born with it? Was it something you acquired overtime? He just wants all the answers! (And maybe it is a little excuse to talk to you a bit more)

▸🧼 He worries about you when got out on commission, because of your enhanced feelings pain would feel way worse and he really just doesn't want you to push yourself that hard.

▸🧼 250 words

"(Name), what's the extent of your 5th sense?"

The question wasn't out of the blue, especially from Bedo, but the time was a bit off. You both were supposed to be on a trip just to hang out. I guess this is what bedo views as hanging out.

"Hm, well generally speaking I can feel stuff through walls, rocks or even people so that's really cool, the bad thing is thought high fives hurt a bit "

"does this also mean that simple forms of contact are more intimate for you?" 

" oh, well yeah I guess you could put it like that!"

He stared at you for quite a while almost as I'd he was looking for something to ask you.

"Can I hug you then?"

"Sure you can!"

His sudden figure holding himself around you with a comforting warmth, you wonder why all of a sudden he was being so intimate for a second, maybe a new experiment?

"Aw is this a new experiment of yours?"

"A little but mostly just because I love you."

You could feel his heart beating faster the more you stared, not even that but his face had the faintest rosy tone. 

"My apologies, it wasn't my intention to make you uncomf-"

Albedo's words were cut off by the feeling of your lips lingering on his, he was hoping for a good outcome but this is much better than anything he could have imagined.

"Can we stay like this for a bit longer?"

Childe

▸🧼 This man has tried to sneak up on you many times and failed, failed so hard. He could be in a whole different room and you'd still be able to sense his presences.

▸🧼 Brags about your skills to the other harbingers all the time, They probably have your name memorized by this point. They value your skills to be honest, they even tried to get you to join the harbingers at one point. Childe was so against the whole idea, talked you out of it even though you weren't going to take the position anyway.

▸🧼 400 words

It's been awhile, childe said he was going to be here soon and know you're sitting at the harbingers base with a mad man who experiments on kids, a sad widow who hates everything and a whiney purple haired brat.

"So your the ginger freaks spouse? I'm so sorry. A shame you have to live with that thing."

Ugh now the purple one is speaking could childe please hurry up with his mission. But I mean the man is waiting for a response, maybe he'll shut up if you give him one.

"Yes childe is my husband, and he's not as intolerable as you make him seem."

"Blinded by your so-called love I see? And here I thought you were a better one."

Better one? Thankfully you could sense childe was in the building, although it felt like something was off with his movements you ignored it.

Strangely enough all the harbingers started starting at you, is there something wrong? I mean yeah childe's standing behind you trying and emphasis on trying to scare you but this wasn't irregular behavior for him at all he tried to sneak up on you at least once a week, his efforts always went to waste though.

"Boo!"

Childe came from behind you now standing in front of you staring at him with a blank expression on your face and a rather disappointed look on his, his attempts to scare you were futile again I see.

"Aww why aren't you scared?"

"Childe I knew you were here since you stepped in the building."

"Did you all hear that? Isn't my lover so impressive!"

They all looked at you with a 'it's the third time this week, we get it your in love' type of look, but there was the purple one who looked as if he had something else to say.

"(Name), have you ever thought about joining the fatui I'm sure I could find some use for your skills."

"No than-"

"No no no! They are not joining I prohibit it, never ever will that happen!"

"Now when since did you have supreme authority over (name)? I never thought of you as the controlling type now."

"What do you mean dear mouchey? I'm not controlling I'm looking out for them, tell him (name)!"

"It's fine scaramouche . I was going to deny the position either way."

"Disappointing."

"Don't listen to him love, he has no idea what he's talking about, ok?"

Scaramouche

▸🧼 would never admit but he truly is impressed by your ability, he's never meet someone like you. He compares his subordinates to you alot.

"If (name) can do it with ease then why can't you? I swear everyone in this facility is illiterate!"

▸🧼 he's so scared of you holding his hand not only because he's very awkward around physical affection but also because he's scared his hand are too cold for you to touch and on top of your ability, it would take a lot of convincing. Don't worry he'll eventually come around to the idea, just be a bit patient with him!

▸🧼 the amount of times his man has thrown bottles,books daggers, weapons basically anything in his vicinity at you is astonishing. He says "it's just to keep your skills sharp". You always catch them though, no worries! Also keeps track of how long it takes you to catch things.

"You caught it 3.7% times faster than average, good job keep it up."

▸🧼 god does he wish you weren't a harbinger, yes he's aware you can hold your own and even better but what if, just what if. You'll have to assure him that you're staying with him forever. 

▸🧼 if you and childe are friends he gets soo jealous, why can't you leave the carrot haired thing alone.

▸🧼 300 words 

You were sitting in your office wondering about how your were going to go about stealing the hydro archons vision not as if you could barge in the place and- 

You sensed an object coming your way, seeing as how the pointed object was thrown it was probably scaramouche. Looking up from your notes about the hydro archon swiftly grabbing the blade, why was your husband so adamant on throwing things at you was beyond you.

"that was 0.7% times slower than average, have you been slacking?"

"Its not that, somethings bothering me!"

"What a pitiful excuse…"

He stared at you waiting for an answer as to what was the matter, although your husband would not admit it verbally he would cease anything or person that dared to bother you and your workflow, you had to to admit it was pretty cute.

"The hydro archon, I still don't know how I'm going to go about retrieving it."

"Leave it to someone else, you got the dendro and pyro archons gnosis, the Tsaritsa needs to understand the concept of being overworked anyway."

"But I know I can do this, I just need a little time!"

"I'm fully aware of your skills, but there this thing called self preservation or are you dumb to grasp the concept?"

You simply gave no answer and rolled your eyes in annoyance, you truly did love the man but if he could be a little bit less suffocating with his overprotective personality that would be great. You'd have to admit it was pretty cute though.

"Why are you staring at me?"

"Oh nothing your just very pretty."

As the words came from your mouth you could the the reddish tint on his face.he's blushing that's so cute, you have no idea how people could see him as ruthless he's just a little stubborn.

"I'm not, stop with your foolish words."

"scara can I tell you something?"

"Make it quick."

You got up from your desk now standing in front of him with a small smile on your face, planting you lips on his, making him even more red than he already was, you could see the cogs turning in his head after what you just did.

"I love you!"