Your fearless willpower...

You were sitting down on the floor infront of your dresser, messily looking through every dress you had. Scara doesn't hesitate to put his hand on your head, making you flinch away and complain about ruining your hair.

''I don't understand what your issue is, just pick a random dress, why are you being so peculiar about this? It's quite frankly pitiful." He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms as you don't even look at him once.

"The white one or this navy one?" You hold two options up, one navy denim dress and one classy white dress with intracate details. He looks at both and decides to indulge himself for this once. It's not like he gets to take you out anyway, so he might as well make you work for his opinion.

''Try both on.'' He simply states, his expression unreadable. You hesitate but agree nonetheless. Getting up with an exasperated sigh and kicking him out until you try the first dress on. You decide to indulge him and show him the first dress — the navy one. You step out of your room, spinning for your roommate, waiting for a reaction.

“Well?”

“It kinda makes you look weird.” He says, suppressing a smirk. You looked ravishing in his truthful opinion, yet he would never admit that.

You huff, wordlessly turning back into your room and trying the other dress on. A pretty basic white dress, fitting for any occasion.

Stepping out once more you’re greeted with complete silence. You spin suspiciously, brows furrowed

“Wear the other one.” He simply says before turning on his feet and leaving you be.

Did this one look that bad? If only it did, Scaramouche thought.

Due to the uncertainty he had left behind, you do decide to wear the navy dress, getting ready as usual. Time had finally come and you couldn’t wait to meet your date, you couldn’t be blamed for being so excited, could you? You walk out that door and leave to the restaurant, Scaramouche unenthusiastic in his goodbyes, the only thing him having said to you being a mumble of ‘…you better stay safe… I don’t want to be responsible for anything later’.

Apropos later… well, it wasn’t an ideal date.

“Look, I arrived there and, first of, he was 10 minutes late. It’s not like that’s a big deal in itself but considering how he didn’t have any manners, it just adds to everything. He kept asking invasive questions and even asked me if I was interested in sleeping with him 30 minutes in. Who does that?” You groan, taking another sip of your energy drink, now a few hours later and at home again, in a big T-shirt as you vented to Scaramouche, who hadn’t said a word the entire time.

“It was horrible, Scara. Why do all the men interested in me have to be such douchebags?”

“Hm,” He mused, the corners of his lips twitching upwards, “Maybe because you’re the one choosing those idiots.” He was a selfish man, he knew that, especially when he felt great gratification when he found out your date had gone terribly. He only offered an energy drink in consolation and an ear, though, he was just an actor like that.

“Oh, and where are those non-douchebags I’m supposedly not choosing then?” You sigh, putting the drink down

“Tch. Dumbass, right here.”

“Huh?”

You turn to him, seeing him with a determined look, his eyes seeking out yours.

“You heard me.” He simply says, as if challenging you to make sense of what he’s telling you.

“Stop saying things like that, Scara…” you grumble, looking down.

“And what if I don’t, hm?”

You feel both of his arms encasing your body, having semi-crawled on top of you. You look up and your noses almost touch as you do. He looks different to you from this angle and you see the faint blush on his cheeks. You look into his eyes and he meets yours the same way. It’s as if he’s asking for permission as he bumps his nose against yours, your lips gaping in silent consent. His eyes flicker down to your lips before he closes them and finally leans in.

His lips press softly against yours, testing the waters with how far you’re willing to take it tonight. As you make no move to pull away he lets his tongue swipe across your bottom lip, asking for permission to enter your mouth.

His tongue curled around yours in a passionate dance of growing arousal. His hands have found their way to your waist, his nails softly digging into the soft skin of your sides.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.” He purrs out, breaking the kiss to look at your flushed expression

“Watching you go out with these weird, undeserving dimwits…” He kisses along your jaw before trailing gently down your neck. You can’t help the sound at the back of your throat when he sucks particularly hard at one spot on your neck. He chuckles under his breath before continuing his work on you. His hands trail down to your thighs and squeeze gently, parting them slowly settling in between

“Are you sure about this, Scara?” You ask, looking up at him from underneath. His lips are shiny, as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, tasting your saliva on them, so sweet, he thinks to himself.

“Are you sure about this, princess?” He answers with a question back, eyeing your expression with smug curiosity, making you gulp. You have never been this close to him before, what did you even feel for him in the first place? All you knew was you wanted him and you craved his touch deeply.

“I am, I want this.” You reassure shyly, earning a light chuckle from the man above you.

He responds by pressing his lips against yours again, this time more powerful, grinding up against you slowly. He hums at your reciprocation, your hands flat against his chest.

“Mm, may I?” He mumbles into your mouth, hands itching up to play with the hem of your oversized T-shirt. You hum, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer. He dares to slip his hand under your shirt for the first time, losing his mind at the feel of your skin. You were always perfect to him, there was no doubt, but right now - this has to be his favorite way of seeing you. He feels you up, hands roaming your hips, rubbing his thumb over the fabric of your underwear on your hip.

“So perfect… haah…” He pulls away with a gasp, his free hand on your jaw “You’re so perfect.”

You can’t comprehend what’s happening, the words coming out of his mouth. He hooks his two fingers under the fabric, startling you. He waits for you to adjust before tugging the fabric down your thighs.

“I can’t wait anymore.” He admits and you nod, closing your eyes. “No, no, look at me, open those eyes, keep your pretty eyes on me.”

Pushing up your shirt he feasts upon your anatomy, kissing and tasting your warm and flushed skin. He groans, growing needy at your gasps and moans.

His fingers find your cunt, gently rubbing your clit, as he relishes in the noises you make, squirming against him.

“I can feel you getting wetter and wetter, hm?” He’s breathless, trying to appear calm and collected, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“It’s unfair…” you start, making him stutter in his movements “You have to take your clothes off too.” He chuckles at your complaint, taking his hands off you momentarily to pull his shirt off. Your hands find his bare skin, smoothing over him, over anything you could see - beauty marks, scars, anything and he swears he could die, drowning in your touch, in your attention, in your love.

You begin to feel your core aching, longing for something of him, a fragment, a piece, anything you could get.

“Please,” you urge and he immediately knows what you want. So he enters one finger into you and opens you up, preparing you gently. Your eyes flutter shut in response, squeezing closed.

His eyes are trained on you, watching every reaction and every expression you made. He leans down to kiss the spot under your ear, feeling you shudder against him.

“Can I put in another one?” He asks, feeling that you were ready for it. He doesn’t hesitate when you nod, groaning as he feels you around his fingers.He grows impatient soon, pulling his fingers out of you just as you were about to cum, making you whine at the loss of contact.

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos, working on unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down to his knees. Your eyes fixate on him, straining painfully.

“Are you okay?” He makes sure one last time, as he tugs down his boxers and you can barely nod, not trusting your voice.

“Ah, shit,” he lubes his cock up with your juices, grinding up and down your folds for as long as he can take.

“Put it in, please,” You force out, hands reaching out for his own. As he intertwines your hands he pushes his tip in, both of you panting in pleasure and maybe overwhelming emotions. He bottoms out quickly, leaning down to be close to you, yearning for more and more and more of you.

Whimpering, he starts to set a pace fitting both of you. He’s never felt so vulnerable before. Being so intimate with you, of all people, it made his heart ache. He liked you - No, he loved you, but he could only express that through his actions right now. He starts to go faster, hitting that spot in you making you roll your eyes.

“Oh, good girl, such a good girl- ah,” he kissed you desperately, the pleasure burning in his veins. He felt so good, it was all he could think about. The feeling of you, hot and a mess under him, was pushing him further and further to the peak of pleasure already.

“I’m close,” he pants, “are you close?”

“Mhm, I’m so close…” you hold onto him tighter, feeling each other.

His hold on you suddenly tightens before his hips stutter against yours, burying himself to the hilt as the pleasure takes over both of you, your orgasm hitting you right where you needed.

“Fuck,” he heaves, eyes searching yours, “are you okay?”

“Ye- hahh, yeah, are you?” your pupils dilate, your body shaking

“Yes, yes, I’m…” he trails off, slumping against you. Mind too dazed for anything else, you close your eyes, letting the exhaustion catch up to you.

You wake up the next day that Saturday, surprisingly in your bed, in fresh clothes and unsurprisingly sore. You sit up in bed, recalling the previous night when you hear a knock on your door.

“Yeah?”

“I made breakfast, get up, sleepyhead.” Scaramouche opens the door, and his eyes soften seeing you in bed

“You good?”

“I’m sore, you dumbass.” You groan with a smile

“You weren’t complaining yesterday.” He scoffs, walking into your room and pulling you up, helping you

Truth is, he had grown fond of the idea of spending time with your reassuring and caring presence, even when he felt like he didn’t deserve it. Not that you needed to know when you could just understand from the way he pulled his hat down when you teased him on the way to the Akademiya or from the way he‘d tolerate your occasional energetic behavior even after he had a long day. Even in silence, there was a mutual understanding between him and you, no words needing to exchanged for you both to know how you were feeling.

He hated it — Feeling vulnerable to you. He couldn’t help but cave on some nights, though, looking up at the night sky and watching the stars with you when you couldn’t sleep. So, yes, you knew of his past, even if not completely and appreciated every part of his vulnerability and trust. He knew he could trust you, he didn’t know if he should, though.

—••••—

“Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad.” Your laughter takes him out of his thoughts as you walk around Sumeru City, talking about whatever crossed your mind as Wanderer listened.

“I don’t need people to know about my personal affairs, much less if I’m involved with you.” He grumbled, clearly flustered about the encounter earlier at the Grand Bazaar. A merchant had inquired if you and the Wanderer were in a relationship, and even though true, your lovely boyfriend was too embarrassed to answer.

“So what, I am your lover, am I not?” He basically shuts down, turning beet red

“Shut it.” He pulls his hat down, speeding up to escape your teasing.

Suddenly, a rock gets in his way and he trips, sending him straight down on the sandy ground. His hat falls right off too, and he makes a startled sound. You’d think it’d cute if you weren’t just slightly worried but surprised too.

You kneel next to him.

“Wanderer?”

He has his guard up again and now both of your gazes land on what fell out of his hat.

“What is this?” You ask, snatching the object from the ground before he can, dusting it off.

It was a little and soft doll with white clothes and black hair, a waistband tied using a butterfly knot, and a clear, round tear at the corner of his eye. You pet the top of the dolls small head with your thumb before looking back at him. His brows are furrowed and he’s blushing profusely

“Give it back.” He says, but you just hold it. You knew Wanderer too well, you knew what he was thinking

“I’m not making fun of you, I like it. I love it, actually.” You slowly give it back, smiling gently.

“He’s my travel companion.” He puts it back, keeping it safe underneath his hat. You help adjust his hat and help him get up. You keep walking silently until he feels less embarrassed and finally talks.

“Thank you.” He says, mumbling quietly. You respond by humming, taking his hand in yours, which he then squeezes tightly. No one understood him like you, no one cherished him like you, no one loved him like you and no words could express your love for one another.

“Who does the doll represent?” You ask, curiosity overtaking you

“Someone from the past. It doesn’t matter, anyway.” He turns to you and , in rare occurrence, smiles at you, genuinely and sincerely.

“You’re the one that matters to me from now on. For forever.”

''Why the hell did you stop running? You're already soaked as it is.'' He pulls you closer, putting his hands over your head to shield your eyes from the rain as you look at him.

''You're gonna get sick and I'm gonna be stuck taking care of you. Like always.'' he says, scoffing. The rain gets even more intense, as the ambiance turns more intimate. You subconsciously step closer, and notice the light pink hue on his cheeks, partly from the rain and running and partly from you, not that he would ever admit that, though.

"I wouldn't mind you taking care of me, Scara."

"I know."

I wouldn't mind either, he thinks.

His hands start to grow tired, so his one hands stop shielding you and instead pinch lightly at your cheek. You lean into his soft touch, closing your eyes.

"You're so careless." He says with the softest tone ever spoken, and he leans down to press a little kiss to your forehead, making you put your hands flat on his chest. The kiss lingers and feels more intimate than anything before, the pure love and warmth bouncing off your skin and melting into you.

"Scrap this, let's just go home and I'll draw us a bath."

"Wait, this first-"

You first press a peck to the corner of his mouth and he gets the message immediately, adjusting your mouths to properly kiss you.

He swears if the world was burning down, he'd still find time to kiss you properly, just how you deserved.

His mouth moves slowly against yours, calculated and with intention. It's not long before you part your lips for him, allowing his tongue to meet yours in a gentle dance.

It's like your hands have a mind of their own when they go up and tug at his silky hair, resulting in him letting out a sound from the back of his throat, which makes you almost lose it completely.

You pull away, panting heavily. He's unable to stay too far away, though, staying as close to you as possible without necessarily kissing you.

"Yes, let's go home now-"

"-I thought you'd never agree."

“Scara…” you hug and wrap your arms around his waist from behind as he seemed busy to be preparing some late noon snacks in the kitchen. It had only been a few months since you and Scara had moved in together, yet the domestic feel of just waking up together, spending the day together, cooking together and sleeping together never seemed to stop making your heart beat in a ridiculously fast rhythm every time. It was heaven on earth, in a way.

You get pulled out of your thoughts soon enough, though, as Scaramouche, who had by now finished preparing your snack, turned around to face you.

“What is it?” He feigns annoyance and crosses his arms over his chest, his brows furrowed lightly.

“Gee, lighten up, will ya’?” Your thumb reaches out to smooth over the crease between his brows, as he bites back a visible smile.

“Here, your damn carrots.” He rolls his eyes and hands you a plate with carefully peeled and cut carrot sticks. You in turn take one from the plate and munch on a carrot

“Let’s nap… I’m so sleepy.” You lay your head on his chest, nuzzling, earning a tut from him

“You seem rather energetic to me.”

“C’mon, please…” You give him your best puppy eyes and hope he can’t resist, which earns you a soft smack on the head

“Ow…” before you can even say something else, though, he pulls you by your hand, now in a much gentler manner, towards the couch you had picked out together.

“No funny business,” he ensures, “you wanted to nap, so we’re gonna nap, alright?” You take what you can get and nod, sitting down on the couch before he pushes you down to lay on your back. Afterwards, he lays down next to you, turning to his side and pulling the blanket on the armrest over you two, especially over you. His voice, now softer, rings in your ears

“Tell me if you need anything else. If you’re cold or—“

“— just… cuddles.” Your eyes are already drawn shut and your body has been captured in slender arms. Your wish is his command, after all, may he admit or not. You respond by nuzzling into the crook of his neck, pushing yourself closer and closer until there’s no space left between you.

It’s not toilsome to get sleepy in his arms, proven by your already fading conscience before you feel a light kiss pressed onto the crown of your head

“I love you, Idiot.”

His hand wiggles out under yours, now brushing up and down your thigh slowly, enticingly. His breath fans over your neck, and you don't want to guess how red you are right now.

You're starting to regret going on this coffee date with him now, already feeling some eyes on your trembling shape. You can feel Wanderer's complacent aura radiating off of him and bouncing off of your skin, it was too much.

You lower your head and take a deep breath and he only uses this new opportunity to lean in even closer and bite your ear lobe softly, just enough for you to feel his teeth. Galvanising pleasure blooms through you, making you bite your bottom lip to stifle the compromising sound that was about to leave you.

"Ha! I got you." He pokes his nose into your cheek, grinning like a cheshire cat, as you were practically drowning in embarrassment at the very same time.

You lift your head and turn it to him, with him still so close making the whole situation way more intimate than before.

"Not here. Please." You try and not sound too worked up, your eyes narrowing down on his feverishly. It seems this new found closeness has taken at least the tiniest toll on him, as his breath hitches and his eyes look down onto your lips. Contrary to your words you can't help but press your lips together, pressing your soft lips onto his perfect ones. He smiles into the kiss, a small, small smile only you'd be able to recognise after years of decoding and solving him and his thoughts.

You pull away and when you realise that you're pressing your thighs together, mentally slapping yourself for taking it way too far. You cough in an attempt to break the tension before hesitantly looking back at him.

"Don't look at me like that," wiping your lips you mumble, "Let's just pay and get out of here."

His steps are almost silent but you've gotten used to them, recognising him at the lack of sound, turning your head back to him. You pout and get ready to complain, before your eyes set upon a cup in his hands.

"What? What are you looking at?" He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he sets down the cup of tea on the desk. You're still silent, awaiting an explanation at the unusually benevolent gesture from the puppet.

"I know that you're incredibly dim, so I thought I'd prompt you to work that brain of yours." His expression speaks of indifference to anyone else, yet you can see the slightest reveal of concern in his eyes, making you smile a little bit.

"Wanderer, you didn't have to!" You tease, letting your small smile turn into a grin as you elbow the dip of his waist. He flushes, pulling his hat down harshly and jerking away from you

"Stop acting so childish." He scowls and you can't help but giggle at the way the tips of his ears turn pink.

Once settled, though, he clears his throat and trails closer to you, standing right behind the chair you were sitting on. Your back now presses against his torso and you’re calm at first, thinking he’d make distance between you two again after feeling you against him.

But he doesn’t.

Instead he leans down, now looking down over you, his eyes narrowing in on the paper you were supposed to focus on. Your stomach churns in embarrassment at both the intimacy and your lack of progress of the worksheet. You bite your lip getting ready for the lecture and scolding.

You hear a sigh and he speaks

“Are you really having a hard time with this?”

His voice is now much closer, right by your ear. Much softer than you expected too. You only hum, nodding and he chuckles softly.

"Hmm.." He muses, now with new-found confidence

"I'll help you then, understood? Get up."

You do as he says and he sits down on your chair, but before you can protest you feel his hands on your hips, pushing you down onto his lap.