#sub scaramouche

During your trip, you found a distressed puppet and brought him to Snezhnaya. You took him under your wing and trained him to be who he is today. Even after he earned the title of the Balladeer, he still wanted to work with you as much as possible. He's in love with you but he's too cowardly to tell you. So instead, he puts on a mean, bratty facade while pretending that he works with you because you're better than the ‘useless minions’ in the fatui and ‘strongest’ harbinger, after him of course. It's easier to hide his feelings when he's behind a mask.

You've seen many authentic parts of him during your time training him but he looks back on himself with shame. He doesn't know how to convey his feelings in a way that doesn't feel extremely embarrassing.

When he has the time, he reads novels about romance and fantasizes about all the things you could do if he got the courage to tell you. He stumbled across a novel with more raunchy themes and stumbled down a rabbit hole of smut. Thanks to his realistic puppet body, he can feel arousal. So whenever he’s able to sleep in his own room, he masturbates before going to bed.

Sometimes he even does it when he's not home. Discreetly, of course. He loves imagining what you’d look like naked and how you’d fuck him. Since you're half human, he wonders which parts of you aren't human and how that might look. He’d love you regardless, but it's still nice to think about.

His favorite fantasy is you using your strength to completely dominate him and use his body however you want. He’s always thinking about it. He’ll be searching a cave and he’ll start imagining you forcing yourself on him. Or he’ll be watching you train while he's taking a break and think about you in a duel where you’d win against him and take him as your prize.

The last thing he ever expected was for his wish to come true.

Scaramouche watches you curse in frustration. Your subordinates fucked up your very important mission so you punished them by death. You don't care much for the lackeys and Scaramouche loves that.

“Maybe next time you should just go without them.” His mouth moves on its own. He’d never say that. He should be subtly comforting you right now by inviting you to kill some monsters and enemies nearby to blow off steam.

“Next time?” Your anger level rises. “There's no next time, Balladeer.”

“What are you getting mad at me for? It's not like I’m the one who told you to bring a bunch of useless fools on the mission.”

You clench your fists and sigh angrily as you walk over to him. “What's wrong with you?”

“I’m tired of your incompetence. You never listen to me when I tell you to—”

Your hand moves on its own and wraps around his throat. He's scared of whatever’s possessing him but also really horny. “You know what? I think I know the perfect way to make up for today.” You squeeze his throat before grabbing his arm and dragging him to a nearby cave.

“What are you doing?!” He yells, pressing his hands up against the wall to stop his face from crashing into it thanks to your sudden aggressive movement.

“You clearly want me to take my anger out on you, so that's what I’m going to do.” You rip a hole in his shorts. “Dottore told me you have realistic functionality…Don't move.”

Scaramouche’s face turns red. You're playing out one of his fantasies. “Hh-hey- get off of me–” He tries to move, to keep up the act, but he only manages to squirm. He forgot about your control over him. Dottore used Scaramouche's puppet body to ‘imbed’ a sort of ‘program’ in him. He's forced to follow your commands. You don't have much reason to use this ability, it's really just supposed to be a safety measure. You usually ask him to do things to avoid forcing him into anything.

“Keep your mouth shut. You don't want anyone to come by, do you?” You quickly move to free your cock. There's something in your brain telling you that you have to do this right now. Your movements and your words are being executed so smoothly that Scaramouche has no idea it's not voluntary. “It's fine if I just shove it in, isn't it? You're only a puppet.”

Scaramouche's eyes widen, his soft whimpers muffled by his sealed lips. You're huge.

“Shit, why are you so tight?” You groan, struggling to get your monster sized cock inside him. “Even now, you're still a fucking tease.”

The walls of his pussy are so soft and gummy, it feels way too good to only be felt by barely a quarter of your cock. You pull out and step back, pulling him back with you. “You're flexible so..” You fold his body, forcing his hands to touch the ground, and spread his legs. “Maybe it’ll be easier like this.”

He's glad he can't moan right now.

You push your cock back inside him, traveling further than before. He feels like he's at the peak of his climax but his body is refusing to let him come. He's gonna go crazy like this.

You reach his cervix and frown, you're still not fully inside. Scaramouche's eyelashes flutter dramatically as he feels your cock entering his womb. He didn't think his body was able to do that.

You roughly thrust into him. He can feel your monster cock throbbing. “If I knew you felt this good I would've kept you all for myself. You're a lot better like this, like a little sex doll.”

Scaramouche’s body twitches as his orgasm arrives, finally allowing him to squirt on your cock. His heart flutters at the sound of your pleased noises.

You feel relieved that your strange and ‘possessed’ behavior isn't hurting him. You're ruthless and cruel but not to this degree. And you have to admit, he feels great. “You like the sound of that, doll?” You fuck him through his orgasm. You can hear his muffled moans. “Tell me.”

“Yes~! I’m your sex doll, [Name]~!” He cries out. “Use me!”

You pull out and pick him up, turning him around. You press him up against the wall with your hands on his hips. Scaramouche quivers at the sight of your cock. It looks even better than he imagined.

You pause. There's a soft purple glow coming out from behind his tattered shorts. You want to investigate further but the strange entity possessing you won't allow it. You figure it’d be hard to fully remove his clothes without making everything super complicated. You shrug it off and make a mental note to check later.

He wraps his arms around you and gently throws his head back as you slide back inside him, his hair scrunching up.

“You can't get pregnant, can you?” You manage to get a voluntary sentence out. If he could, the outcome would probably be very…strange.

Scaramouche shakes his head rapidly. His mother made him realistic but not that realistic.

“Good.” Your hands slide down to grope his ass as you continue to fuck him. He tries not to be too loud but it's hard. You press your lips against his to silence him. He whimpers and pauses, his body jittering as he squirts again. He starts feeling light headed as your cum fills his womb.

You pull out and help him stand up. You notice that none of your cum is leaving his body. Out of all the weird things that’ve happened today, this is probably pretty low on the list.

During your report to the Tsarista, you started to feel something going on with your body. It felt like you were inside Scaramouche again. Luckily for you, there was no way for the Tsarista to know what's going on. You didn't have a boner and your face remained calm. Your hands were shaking but if she noticed, it's likely she would have assumed you were tired or still pissed off. The moment you were able to leave, you hurried over to his room.

While you were on your way, you could feel his pussy squeezing you. Like he was having multiple orgasms.

You're too horny to worry about knocking so you just enter his room and lock the door behind you.

Scaramouche, who's completely naked, turns his head to you. His fingers are pressed against a purple tattoo on his lower stomach and his legs are spread wide.

Your focus quickly turns to his tattoo while your boner finally makes an appearance.

“I don't know where it came from..” Scaramouche wordlessly invites you to come closer. “When I touch it, it makes me come faster and when I think of you, it feels like you're inside me again.”

You gulp. “I could feel you too.”

His cheeks turn red. “Sorry..”

“It's fine. Do it again.”

Scaramouche immediately complies. So it works even if you're together.

You quickly release your boner. “Kneel.” You order, gripping his hair once he does so. “I want you to keep doing that while I use your throat, okay?”

Scaramouche makes a quick noise of approval before opening his mouth wide.

It feels like you're in both of his holes at once. It's almost overwhelming but the two of you can handle it.

You roughly thrust into his mouth, making use of his lack of a gag reflex. His lips and cheeks are stretching to take you. He moans along your shaft as he slightly bounces his hips on your pseudo-dick. He brings his hands to play with his tits so he can further bless your eyes.

His “orgasm face” appears once again as he comes, somehow squeezing your pseudo-cock even more aggressively than before. That, along with the feeling of his warm mouth, is enough to send you over the edge.

Your cum slowly starts to overflow and drip out of his nose and mouth. You pull out and the rest dribbles down his body. You're still hard.

“Get on the bed and lay down.”

Scaramouche hurries over to his bed and lays down with his legs spread.

You grab his legs and fold him once again, this time with his feet reaching his head. He gives you heart eyes as you slide your length inside him. Now it really feels overwhelming, you're feeling double the sensations.

A bulge forms in his stomach as you travel to his womb. He reaches out to touch his tattoo, making your movements stutter. You curse under your breath and take a few seconds to process it all before slowly thrusting inside him.

Scaramouches fingers press harder onto his skin, subtle bolts of electro sparking all over his body. You wince at the feeling. It's not painful, only stimulating. He moans erotically as he comes even harder than before.

You groan in response and come shortly after. You slowly pull out and silently watch your cum dribble out of his pulsing hole.

He leaned over the table to break, hips tilting back just enough that the fabric of his pants pulled tight across his ass. The position sent an unwelcome spark through him — a dizzy little rush of arousal that made his cock twitch traitorously in his pants, just from knowing he was exposed to you. God how he hoped you were watching.

He took the shot and watched a couple balls scatter.

“Your turn, slowpoke.” He straightened up, going for cocky as he tried to ignore the faint warmth on his cheeks. “Try not to scratch immediately.”

The game started easy enough, both of you circling the table.

“You always this mouthy after closing?” you asked, lining up your shot and sinking a stripe neatly.

“Only when my coworker decides to play babysitter instead of actually helping close,” he shot back, circling around to your side. He bent low again for his next shot, ass presented more than necessary. His thighs pressed together subtly as he felt himself starting to harden, the friction making it worse. He hated how easily you affected him — how one steady look from behind the bar or one sharp comeback could leave him half-hard for the rest of the shift.

“Nice shot,” you said dryly as he barely made one in. “Real graceful.”

“Hah. Jealous?” He smirked, but his voice came out a little breathier than he wanted. Every lean over the table made the heat worse. His cock was filling out now, pressing uncomfortably against the front of his pants. He could feel the slight tremble in his smaller frame, the way his breathing was getting shallower.

You stepped closer on his next tricky angle, standing right behind him as he lined up. Your chest brushed lightly against his back, the size difference obvious — you easily towered over his petite form. Scaramouche’s breath hitched.

“You’re holding the cue all wrong,” you murmured, voice low and close to his ear. “Don’t be so sloppy with it.”

The words sent a jolt straight to his cock. He gasped softly before he could stop it, the cue wobbling badly in his grip. The ball bounced harmlessly off the rail. His face burned hot.

“Fuck—” he hissed, face flushing hot. He tried to play it off with a scoff. “Your fault. You distracted me, idiot.”

You didn’t pull away. Instead, your hands settled lightly on his narrow hips, thumbs pressing just above the waistband of his pants. The touch burned through the fabric. Scaramouche’s heart hammered.

“Want some help?” Why were you so goddamn calm? Did touching him mean nothing to you? “I could guide you… teach you how to aim properly.”

Like I need your fucking help, he thought, even as his body betrayed him by staying exactly where it was, bent over the table. His voice wavered. “I can handle a cue on my own.”

But he didn’t move away. If anything, he stayed bent there, breathing a little faster.

You leaned in closer, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Come on, Scara. Let me show you. Hands on the table, just like this.”

You leaned in closer, guiding him further down so his smaller body was fully draped across the green felt, one arm stretched out gripping the cue stick. Your larger frame hovered over him, caging him in. The position pressed his ass back against you slightly, and Scaramouche had to bite his lip hard to stop a whimper from escaping. His cock was fully hard now, throbbing painfully against the confines of his pants. Fuck, you were so big behind him… he can feel the heat. Why did it feel so good? He shouldn’t be this turned on just from a stupid game.

“Ready?” you said casually, adjusting his grip with one hand while the other stayed on his hip. “Steady now.”

You lined up the shot together. The cue slid smoothly, and the ball dropped cleanly into the pocket with a satisfying thunk.

“See? Aiming isn’t that hard,” you murmured against his hair, still pressed close. “My turn to be benevolent. Your shot again.”

Scaramouche’s breath came in short, shaky puffs, His mind was spinning. This was ridiculous — he was at work, and you were just a coworker. His voice cracked slightly when he tried to retort. “Tch… shut up.”

But gods, the way you were touching him…

He tried to take his next shot, stretching out again, but the cue shook badly in his trembling hands. Every tiny shift made his hard cock rub against the edge of the table through his pants, sending sparks up his spine. He missed by a mile.

You clicked your tongue in mock disappointment. “Not paying attention? That’s sloppy, Scara. Maybe you need to be punished for that.”

The words hung heavy in the air. Scaramouche turned his head just enough to glare at you over his shoulder, but the glare lacked any real heat. His pupils were blown wide, lips parted, cheeks flushed dark. His smaller body was still sprawled across the felt, ass up, legs slightly parted. He could feel how exposed he was — how easily you could do anything right now.

“Punished?” He tried to scoff, but his voice came out breathy and unsteady. “You wouldn’t fucking dare…”

Your hand slid from his hip, pressing more firmly against the small of his back, keeping him pinned in place. The pressure made his cock twitch again, a bead of pre-cum already dampening his underwear.

“Watch me.”

The word landed heavy between you.

Scaramouche’s breath caught. His mind spun, half panic, half desperate want. You were actually going to — right here? On the pool table? Fuck, he was so hard it hurt.

Your hand stayed firm on the small of his back, pressing his smaller frame down against the green felt. With your other hand you reached around, palming the obvious bulge in his pants. Scaramouche jolted, a broken whimper slipping out before he could swallow it.

“Nngh—!” His hips twitched forward involuntarily, grinding against your palm. “Y-you… bastard… don’t just— ah—”

“Shhh,” you murmured, voice low and steady as you popped the button on his pants and dragged the zipper down. “You’ve been teasing me all night with that mouth. Time to pay up.”

He tried to retort, but the sound died in his throat when you yanked his pants and underwear down just enough to bare his ass, letting them bunch around his thighs. Cool air hit his skin. His cock sprang free, flushed and leaking against the felt. Scaramouche’s face burned with humiliation and arousal. He was dripping already… and you hadn’t even touched him properly.

Pathetic.

You spread his cheeks with both hands, thumbs brushing over his hole. Scaramouche shuddered hard.

“W-wait— fuck, at least warn me— hah—!”

One thick finger circled his entrance, then pushed in slowly. The stretch made his eyes flutter. He bit his lip, but another moan tore free anyway.

“Ahhn—! It’s— nngh— too much already…”

“You’re tight,” you observed, voice rough with want as you worked the finger deeper, crooking it deliberately. “Been thinking about this?”

Scaramouche’s smaller body arched, fingers scrabbling at the felt. “S-shut up—! I haven’t— mmph—! Fuck, right there— don’t you dare stop—!”

You added a second finger, scissoring gently at first, then faster, pumping in and out until wet, obscene sounds filled the quiet tavern. Scaramouche was loud — he couldn’t help it. Every curl of your fingers against that spot made him cry out.

“F-fuck—! There— ahh—! You’re gonna make me— hah—! I’m— nngh— so close already, you asshole—!”

You pulled your fingers free. Scaramouche whined at the loss, hips pushing back desperately.

“Don’t— don’t stop, damn it—”

Instead of answering with words, you dropped to your knees behind him. Your hands gripped his narrow hips, holding him open, and then your tongue dragged hot and wet over his hole.

Scaramouche’s whole body jerked. “What the-? Oh god, y-your tongue! Hahhh fuck, that’s… mmph—! Disgusting, don’t— ahhn! Don’t stop, please!”

You licked into him greedily, tongue fucking inside while one hand reached around to stroke his leaking cock in slow, teasing pulls. Scaramouche’s moans turned shameless, voice cracking higher with every pass of your tongue.

“F-fuck—! I can’t, it feels too good— hah—! Your mouth… nngh—! I’m gonna cum— don’t stop, I’m— ahh— cumming—!”

He came hard, cock pulsing over your fist and splattering the green felt with white streaks. His legs shook violently, smaller frame trembling under you. But you didn’t let up. Your tongue kept working him through it, two fingers sliding back inside to keep stretching him open.

Scaramouche sobbed once, oversensitive. “T-too much—! Slow downnn! I just came— nngh—!”

You stood up, freeing your own cock. It was thick and heavy, pressing against his spit-slick hole. Scaramouche’s breath hitched at the size.

“You’re… you’re really going to—?”

“Yeah,” you growled, gripping his hips tighter. “Gonna fuck you right here. Gonna fill this pretty hole until you’re dripping.”

He whimpered, but pushed back against you. “Then do it already— stop teasing…  nyah—!”

You pushed in slowly, inch by inch, stretching him wide. The burn made fresh tears prick at the corners of his eyes. Scaramouche’s mouth fell open in a long, broken moan.

“F-fuuuck! You’re so big… splitting me open—! It hurts— but don’t stop… deeper, ahhn! All the way—!”

When you bottomed out, hips flush against his smaller ass, Scaramouche was panting, drooling slightly onto the felt. You stayed still for a moment, letting him adjust, then started moving — deep, steady thrusts that rocked his entire body forward with every snap of your hips.

The table creaked under you. Scaramouche was loud, voice raw and needy.

“Yes—! Fuck me harder! Hah! Just like that… nngh! Your cock’s so deep— ahh! Gonna break me… don’t stop—!”

You leaned over him fully, chest pressing to his back, caging his petite frame completely. One hand reached around to stroke his cock again while you fucked him. The size difference was obscene — your larger body completely covering his, pinning him down.

“Gonna breed you,” you growled against his ear, voice filthy. “Gonna pump you so full it takes. You want that? Want me to fill this tight little hole until you’re leaking my cum for days?”

Scaramouche’s moan cracked into a sob. “Y-yes! Breed me, please fill me up— hah…! I want it, want your cum— please!”

You picked up speed, pounding into him relentlessly. Cum from his first orgasm smeared between your hand and his cock. Drool slipped from the corner of his mouth, streaking the felt. His red eyeliner was starting to run with the tears of overstimulation.

Another orgasm crashed over him. Scaramouche cried out, hole clenching tight around you as he spilled again, making an even bigger mess on the table.

But you didn’t stop. You fucked him through it, then kept going, chasing a third round from his oversensitive body.

“Too much! Hah… I can’t— nngh! Slow down— fuck, I’m crying— ahhn—! Please—!”

Tears were flowing freely now, streaking the red lines under his eyes. His smaller body shook with every brutal thrust, cum and slick dripping down his trembling thighs onto the felt.

Something deeper cracked open inside him — the raw realization that he was being wanted, filled so completely. His moans turned into genuine sobs, overwhelmed by pleasure and the sudden flood of emotion.

You leaned down closer, still buried deep inside him, and kissed the side of his neck, then his tear-streaked cheek.

“Shh… I’ve got you,” you murmured softly, voice gentle even as your hips kept rolling slow and deep. One hand stroked his damp indigo hair. “Let it out. You’re doing so good for me… so perfect. Just take it. I’m right here.”

Scaramouche sobbed harder at the tender words, but his hole clenched greedily around your cock. “Hah—! Don’t… don’t be nice, ah—! It makes it wor— nngh! I can’t— I’m— fuck— cumming again…!”

You kissed his ear, murmuring praises between thrusts. “Good boy. So tight for me. Gonna fill you up now… breed you just like you need.”

Your pace grew erratic. With a low groan you slammed deep one final time and came hard, flooding him with hot pulses of cum. Scaramouche wailed, oversensitive and full, another weak orgasm ripping through him at the feeling of being bred.

The table jolted sharply with the force of it.

Clack.

The lone 8-ball, nudged inch by inch throughout the entire fuck, finally rolled into the corner pocket with a clean, satisfying thunk.

Scaramouche let out a broken, teary laugh-moan, voice hoarse and wrecked.

“I… won…”

You stayed buried deep inside his messy, cum-filled hole, kissing the sweaty skin of his temple while his smaller body trembled beneath you, still leaking and dripping all over the ruined felt.

The tavern was silent again — except for the sound of your mingled breathing and the faint drip of cum onto the floor.

“You promised to model for me!” A disappointed voice rang out of you, the tone over-dramatised to stress your faked emotional turmoil. The way you acted was undeniably childish, like a kid throwing a tantrum, but the thing on stake was more important than your pride right now. “I told you, fuck off! This isn’t what I agreed to!” He shouted in return, trying to storm off until he realised the door was locked. “The heck? Give me the key now if you don’t want me to break your door!”

Wait a damn minute. How did you get yourself into this messy situation again? Or rather, when did it start going downhill?

Perhaps since the moment you began stubbornly pursuing him, following him around everywhere like a stalker just to ask him to model for you? No, even now you were still convinced that he was the right one, you could feel it in your gut. Though if you knew how horrible his personality was, then you maybe wouldn’t have asked twice. For one instance, right on your first meeting, where you tried to introduce yourself, he just ignored you! Saying he didn’t talk with people who ‘can’t form intellectual thoughts’. Who the heck did he think he was?

Furthermore he began actively ignoring you, before getting up and leaving without giving you a chance to start a proper conversation. Rendering you speechless, unable to scout him, which is why you resulted to yelling. “Ack- wait, I’ve got a small favour to ask, I’ll pay you handsomely too!” Yet none of it was of interest to him, at least until you mentioned this, “I-I’m very well known in my field…! I saw you publishing a paper on the inner workings of Inazuma’s politics, if I actively promote it, I can help your paper reach more people!”

Finally, you got him to stop in his tracks, with his back still turned to you as he questioned, “you think I care about publicity for my thesis?” You gulped, that was supposed to be the ace up your sleeve. After all, every academic in sumeru would love a chance like that, to get a push from someone famous. “You don’t—?” “I want that paper to spread like wildfire, enough to cause some serious damage. Got it?” The indigo haired man interrupted you, suddenly facing you as he jabbed a finger against your chest.

You nodded immediately, there was no room left for negotiations. This is a sign that he agreed, correct? Has destiny finally decided to favour you? “Hmpf, so, what’s this favour you spoke of.” He was even willing to hear you out! Now you really think you got him in the bag, “I need you to model for me, you probably know what my line of work is.” Even if he didn’t care, he knew precisely because you were that influential. A modelling gig, huh, it might boost his reputation as well, but honestly speaking he wasn’t keen on being anything of that sort.

On the other hand, to have his disguised hate-speech against the archon of inazuma get the attention he thinks it deserves… quite the tempting offer. “Fine, when do I have to come?” Yes! Your efforts weren’t in vain. The time spend doing background checks and asking around at last paid off, and you quickly gave him all the necessary information he needed, like your address and name, telling him you’d be happy if he was free and could do some modeling right now.

Once you two reached your studio, you immediately got down to work, getting all the materials you needed and placing them accordingly, aiming to display the vision you had. Scara stood in the doorframe, observing everything with a condescending gaze as always. After you were satisfied with the arrangement, you waved him over, and he slowly stepped closer to you. “There's one last thing before we can get started, could you change into this outfit for me?” You inquired, a pile of clothes in your hands, and eyes sparkling with eagerness.

And what came afterwards... well, just listen to him. “If you think you can get me to wear such frivolous things, you might need a reality check.” By the looks of it, he didn’t like the clothes you prepared. Why though? They were so pretty, made out of the finest threads, smooth to the skin and- “how did you even get the idea of giving me something with so many laces and frills?!” -and too feminine for his taste? But a model’s supposed to showcase and help develop your ideas, not their own preferences.

“Please scara, I really need your help here. It’s just clothes!” You argued, to which he replied, “you are going to publish your works too, aren’t you? Well fuck you because I’m not going to get paraded around in such a humiliating way.” Seriously, why is he so against wearing some slightly more cutesy stuff? “Can’t you please cooperate, just this once? See, I’m begging you, I’ll owe you one after this, alright?” You tried to convince him, though the effect was…debatable at best.

The boy took another glance at the fabrics in your hands, the soft, bright colours mocking him, a sense of embarrassment bubbling in his chest as he shook his head. “No fucking way. Why did you have to choose me?” He crossed his arms over his chest, resembling a poor attempt at shielding himself. “That’s easy, I think you are the perfect fit for this.” Based on his reaction, it seemed he wasn’t happy with your answer, so you explained it a little, “my next theme has something to do with dolls, and, your appearance is exactly what I was looking for.”

Petite frame, pale skin resembling porcelain, silky and shiny hair with such a beautiful deep colour… not to mention his face card. He was kind of cute personality wise too, though he won’t catch you saying that out loud, he might actually hit you if you did. “Anyway, I haven’t found anyone else as suited as you, if I did I wouldn’t pursue you like this— I mean, because I know you are reluctant to participate.”

For some reason he was even more furious than before, so in fear of you losing your model, you reminded him of your deal, “ah, right, I’ve got some connections in inazuma, so I was going to sell my works there as well. I’ll just deliver your papers alongside my submissions, what do you think?” After hearing that, he furrowed his brows. Even if he hated to admit it- you truly were a big shot. If his stuff arrived next to yours, many fans will get a copy of his thesis simply out of loyalty or curiosity, heck it will most definitely get plastered all over the news too.

No matter how reluctant he was to debase himself like that, he couldn’t argue you were doing him a big favour. Besides, it’d spread his name around faster when having a celebrity backing him, as mentioned before, which might be of advantage in the future. The more he thought about it, and weighed the two options out, the more he began to give in to your persuasions. In addition it will be nothing but an one-time thing, he’s got nothing to lose. “Urgh… fine, you sure know how to defend your case.”

With that being said, he snatched the clothes out of your grasp, and stomped towards a door leading to a separate room. You blinked, amazed that you actually got him to change his mind, and getting kind of excited now that you were waiting for him to change. How will he look like in the outfit you provided him with? You put in much care preparing those, choosing every decoration and matching the colours. Hopefully he won’t shred them into pieces, you crossed your fingers and prayed for the best outcome.

A while later, the boy emerged from behind the wall, locking eyes with you instantly. At this point you got used to that gaze, with those fierce pupils filled with flames of rage and murderous intent. He groaned agitated, asking, “are you happy now?” For a split second there, you were preparing yourself mentally in case he got physical, luckily it didn’t come that far. After the initial shock, you finally got some break to actually see for yourself how the fabrics looked on him and, archons, he looked adorable.

A loose fitting, floaty top paired with a mid-thigh long skirt adorned his body. The way it clung or settled around his curves was even better than what you imagined, and for some reason his glare didn’t appear as threatening anymore…? “Quit staring so much, perv.” Scaramouch growled, clenching his teeth, he felt ridiculous wearing this. There’s no way he’d look anything close to appropriate or good when draped in such things, consider yourself lucky that he didn’t tear anything apart.

“Was I staring? Sorry, I’m just amazed at how perfect it fits you.” No need for the flattery, he knew he looked off or funny. A faint blush crept up his cheeks anyway, due to the embarrassment or praise? He wasn’t sure himself. “Yea yea, whatever. Just get started already. Don’t I need to strike a pose or something?” The male wondered, and you nodded, “that’s right. Could you…” you hummed to yourself, pondering where to start, “…come over here?”

You pointed to a spot on the ground, and he came over moments later, followed by you grabbing him by his waist. “Please excuse my rudeness, just- adjusting some stuff, the finishing touches you know.” Was all you said, before immersing yourself in your work. Moving him back and forth a little, searching for the perfect angle and accidentally squeezing his hips occasionally. Smoothing out some folds in the clothing, playing around with his hair…

He was so close to complaining again, until he noticed there was a mirror right in front of him, through which he could observe your every motion. That’s when he saw himself in that outfit from the third person perspective for the first time, his small frame decorated with clothes he wasn’t normally used to. The way it enhanced and accentuated the more graceful parts of him, how surprisingly comfortable it actually was to wear those…has the texture always been this soft and nice to the touch?

Without him noticing, or wanting this to happen, a sense of thrill and excitement replaced the initial dread. Maybe he didn’t look all that dumb in a skirt after all. While he was secretly admiring himself in his reflection, thinking you wouldn’t notice since you were preoccupied with your work, you were actually observing his behaviours. You knew it would come to this, you saw the potential in him, and never once was your intuition wrong.

All he needed was a little push, to gain confidence. Every model has to be self-confident in their looks and skills, otherwise it’ll become apparent in the end product. Now, what else should you do to encourage him? Maybe he’d enjoy some compliments to boost his pride? Or some special attention?

Despite you already being positioned behind him, you still acted as if you were sneaking around and ran your hands over his hips carefully, before digging your fingers into his waist. “UrghhKk..?!?” He met your eyes through the mirror, mouth agape, blush deepening, unable to even fathom what just happened. “Did you just-” “oh, you are ticklish? How unexpected.” You commented, and began groping him, as if he was a plaything you could touch however you wanted.

Running your palms over his lower abdomen, pelvis, all the way up to his perky chest, whispered all thrilled, “your skin’s so soft too, how cute.” On the other hand, scara began squirming around, speechless at your shameless display. He wanted to push you away but something was stopping him, yet he didn’t know why he couldn’t do it, only clawing at your forearm while groaning, “the fuck do you think you are doing?” Even you were dumbfounded that he didn’t just beat you up or something, and responded, “hmm… admiring you?”

What a weak excuse, though it was basically the truth. You suddenly got this urge to fondle and probe at him, to see his flushed cheeks be tainted with an even brighter pink. “I don’t think this outfit would have looked better on anyone else.” Your genuine praise got to his head, and he huffed, “anyone with functional eyes can make that statement.” A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you asked, “oh? Are you finally admitting that you look adorable like this?”

“A-adorable?!” He gazed over his shoulder, shooting you a feisty glance since he wasn't sure if he liked that word being used on him. “Yes, adorable.” You repeated it again, and one of your hands brushed over his milky inner thighs, tracing the outlines slowly. The feeling was foreign to him, yet he didn't detest it. On the contrary, it was almost as if he relished in your attention, enjoying it to the fullest. Your touch was so warm compared to his non-existent body heat. By the looks of it, the purpose of why you invited him was starting to fade and be forgotten.

“So... should I continue?” Your gaze met his through the glass, and you saw how his breath quickened, eyes half-lidded in a half blink. It was quite the sensual spectacle, if you didn’t have enough self control, you might have pounced him, you had to admit. Such temptation he was, you didn't plan for things to turn so intimate, but neither did you detest this outcome. “Mhm...” he agreed with a roll of his eyes, nodding despite not knowing why.

A sudden sense of shame coursed through him, and he averted his eyes from yours. Why did he even consent? Did he actually like your advances? How cheap... this was so unlike himself. Even if your palms felt quite nice caressing him, making his stomach flutter so much, resulting in his heart skipping a beat alongside tingles blossoming from his head all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes, why would he cave in so easily? He felt like his mirror image was snickering at him.

Since you got his permission, for now, you moved your hands a little, running them underneath his skirt. He was simply so starved of touch and of any kind of affection, hence he was yelping at every fondle. That, added with him being able to see every filthy thing you were doing to him through the mirror, observing how his own expressions morphed into lustful ones, what a lewd play this was. How were you so skilled with your fingers? Letting them dance across his flesh, grabbing his flesh, earning one whimper after another out of him.

It didn't surprise anyone that he got aroused, a bulge forming on the skirt where his crotch is. “Nghh... do you do this with all your models...?” He questioned, trying to gain some kind of control again, he can't bring it over his pride to submit everything to you without putting in some fight. “No, this is also a first for me.” You answered, and smirked at the obvious signs of his erection, “but it seems I'm not all too shabby at it?” Scara gritted his teeth at you, nails digging into your arms, leaving behind red crescent forms.

How annoying, that you knew you were the root of his lust. He hated how needy he looked, and how easily he handed the reins to you. Doesn’t matter, he was going to get back at you in one way or another. “And you must find me very irresistible, to be that eager.” He mocked, though you weren't provoked at all. “I'm not going to deny it.” Hearing that left him momentarily stunned, you were awfully honest. Thus he had to try some more even snarkier stuff, and he thought hard about his next words, “then what are you waiting for?”

You were nuzzling his nape, though after hearing his unexpected statement, you looked up at him confused and asked, “what?” To which he said, “why are you just petting me if you are oh so eager.” Seeing you taken aback was a nice change, and he grinned cheekily, taking it even further, “don't tell me you are that boring and satisfied with only a little groping? Like some perverted old man?” This should do the trick~

He still got some bite to him, huh? If he has the energy to provoke you, then surely he can use it on something way more efficient. “This is on you, got it?” You scoffed, and began reaching between his legs, brushing your fingertips over his sex. A shudder ran down his spine, and he tensed together, “h-haah..! Y-you think that can scare me?” Scara scoffed, yet it sounded more like a hollow threat, and so you chuckled, “who said I’m trying to scare you?”

“Rather… a cute girl shouldn’t hide such naughty things under their skirt, don’t you agree?” You taunted in a playful tone, before flapping the fabric up to reveal his leaking dick, soaking through the pastel coloured panties. “Look at that, you even wore the underwear. Say, have you been lying to me about not liking this?” That really struck a sensible cord, and he flared up like a street cat, frowning at you through the furniture.

As if your words alone weren’t enough to hurt his ego, you just had to prove your statement by wrapping your stupidly warm hand around his shaft, causing him to double over as his knees gave out beneath him. Such traitors, getting weak at the smallest stimulations. “HnnGh..! You imbecile- fucking—ah… anNnhg…!♡♥︎” He buckled, hands bawled into fists as he slammed them against the mirror, forehead following next.

Poor thing was panting already, which led to your next ridicule, “can’t take it? Tell me, I might go easy on you.” If it weren’t for you holding him by his waist, he might have flopped and crashed down completely. Be understanding with him, he’s never had anyone do such things to him! Of course he was going to be like this, with his voice spilling with no restraint, as well as him being unaware of his own volume.

“What a bad girl, hiding this filthy dick behind such cute clothes. I told you, you ought not to do that.” You murmured, placing your chin onto his shoulder, getting into the perfect position to mutter directly into his ear. Sticking your tongue out to lick his earlobe, before trailing down with the kissed, burying your lips beneath the collar of the shirt. “You don’t mind marks, right?” You proclaimed, and began sucking at his skin, trying out different spots to gauge his reactions.

“Uh-urgHhh…! d-damn you…” He folded under the onslaught of stimulation, allowing you to do as you pleased. Not that he minded all that much, he always wore high-collar stuff anyway, so no one would know about the evidence of your secret session. As for him? Ah! W-well, ehem, you probably wouldn’t stop even if he told you to, so consider this one of his gracious acts, to permit you to leave marks on his previous body like this. It’s the last time you’ll get to do this, so you better enjoy it to the fullest.

Never has Scaramouch ever concerned himself with such primitive things, neither has he imagined he’d be on the receiving end, so he had no prior knowledge of how good that would feel. To have your mouth travel across his shaking frame, hands caressing every untouched inch… small groans and whimpers slipped past his tightly clenched lips. “mhmff… g-guuhHh.. so- irritating ♥︎♡” He loved this, to have your hand stroke him, pleasuring him, making him feel a sense of desire he haven’t had for such a long time.

Pure ecstasy coursed through his body, head spinning and melting under the continued overstimulation. You took this chance to learn more about him, what his likes and dislikes were, and rubbed his flushed tip with your thumb which earned you another cute moan from the male. “Ah-ahHh..! D-don’t do that!” He thrashed around, toes curling on the ground. His shoulders were raised to his equally as red ears, grip tightening on your arms.

There was something bizarre going on in his lower belly, his insides were becoming chaotic. What were you doing to him— as if electricity was coursing through his veins, sending waves upon waves of signals straight to his brain. Though that analogy wasn’t the best, he couldn’t think of anything else to say now that his thoughts were starting to blank out. “Why? Don’t like it?” You mumbled again, and he whined, “feels… weird.” What a cute answer, you couldn’t help the light giggle slipping by your throat and decided to speed up your pace.

Stroking him up and down, astonished at how sensitive he was. Was this his first time? God, now you ‘felt bad’ for taking it. “You are making such a mess, squirting so much, my hand’s drenched already.” It was the truth, your fingers were all slippery from his precum, and it created so many lewd squelching sounds when you moved them along his shaft. His volume got increasingly louder, and so you teased again, “does it feel that good?” He shook his head, stammering, “be q-quiet.. don’t get cocky.”

What a dishonest boy, still unable to admit it. You weren’t too concerned though, you knew he wouldn’t be able to keep that facade going any longer. The arm that was wrapped around his slim waist moved up, ruining the perfectly ironed shirt, and reached below it to play with his cute, perky nipples. You saw through the reflected image that those lewd little things hardened, creating tiny little tents through the shirt. “You are naughty here too, it seems, what a bad girl.” You commented, and began using your fingertips to circle around them, as if testing the water.

“Y-you..! Stop calling me that! W-wait, why- nnNghh!! ♡♡ why are you t-touching there..?!” He snapped, voice creaking out into a high-pitched moan when he felt your teeth sinking down into his shoulder, ripping the skin there. A choked out gasp as he pawed at your head, acting as if he was pushing you away even though. Though he was contradicting himself, instead of pushing, holding your head in place as if he didn’t want you to leave. “Hnnghh.. uuHh-uhMm..!” On top of that, your hand was basically milking his twitching cock, bringing him closer and closer to his impending release.

“How about no.” You said in return, and added, “don’t you like being a pretty girl? Look.” In the blink of an eye, you grabbed his chin and made him focus on his mirror image, shudder running down his spine. “You sure you don’t like that term?” You asked again, while all he did was yank his face away from your grip, refusing to answer, until he heard your command, “tell me, scara.” Fine, since you were so persistent, he shook his head, to which you snickered, “so? You like it when I call you that?”

Must you be so annoying? He huffed and bared his teeth at you, before yielding to your stupid taunt and said, “k-keep doing it if it helps get you off, but i’m not saying that I like it. I’m tolerating it.” Such a liar, though it didn’t matter, you knew he liked it. His cock was honest after all~ twitching so cutely whenever you called him by that disgraceful pet name.

He threw his head back against you while his tongue lolled out, taking a while to noticed how close you two were, before changed to slamming his forehead against the mirror again. Such a vulnerable sight could be seen through the furniture, some intrusive sides of him really wanted to smash it. This whole ordeal, paired with him being able to see just how much of a degenerate he was, made him want to cry out, hot tears picking in the corners of his eyes.

Suddenly you began scratching his rosy buds with your nails, the pressure gentle and insistent, as if you were digging for treasure. In this case, it’d be his sweet moans, no? He sobbed and squirmed even more at that, the most erotic and phonographic whimpers now spilling out of him. “Ahh…!! N-nooo~ t-too much aAahHh-hNghHh..♡♡♥︎” Like a spell that encouraged you to do more, you licked over the bit marks you’ve left behind, easing the pain slightly while jerking him off even faster.

It felt like you were touching him everywhere, every single one of his senses were filled with nothing but pleasure. He couldn’t think of anything but how good it was, brain on the verge of shortcutting, unable to keep up with everything. What to do? You were simply too good. Assaulting his nerves and making him melt in your hands, such a gut-wrenching, delirious high this was. He could get addicted to this. No good, he agreed to this deal thinking he’ll take advantage of you, yet now he was the one kneeling for you…?

“HnnGh mhmHhhh~!!” Scara cried out, these tears he’s been holding back finally spilling freely as a new wave of ecstasy washed over him. Enough to cause everything he had build up to come crashing down. Pride, composure, or his last remaining shame, all falling apart as he was overwhelmed by this whirlwind of emotions, this storm that pulled him along. Needless to say, he was about to reach his limit, sweat covering his pale skin, glistening in the light of the room.

His hair was a tangled mess due to his own thrashing, stains decorated the once clean mirror, still reflecting his ruined state. To have to witness everything that’s been happening to him in such a way, how delicious cruel it was. He was trembling, shudders running down his spine, eyes glazed over with bliss as he slurred his words. Though his mind couldn’t form any coherent thoughts anymore, and at this point he was just blabbering random nonsense~

“F-feels good… ahHgh~ uHnnm!! W-want moOoreee~ ♥︎♡ su’uhh guUhhh-hNghh ♡♡♥︎~~!” Saliva dripped down his chin as you pointed his dick towards his doppelgänger in the glass, smirking to yourself as you whispered, “you wanna cum, scara? Cum then, paint it all~ over yourself ♥︎” hearing you egging him on like that, he had no choice but to obey, no? It was as if his body had a mind of its own, obeying your commands even when he was internally thinking “that’s too embarrassing!”

In the end, it only took a few more pumps around his slick and wet arousal before he came. Ropes of white, sticky cum shooting out of his overworked little cock, still tainted in such an angry crimson shade. He came so much, that must have been pretty intense for him, perhaps he was still not used to getting so much attention. “AhgHhh~ MhnmNfff c-cumminGghh~♥︎♡♥︎ nghh Mhmff~!!” He groaned out one last time, pupils rolling back once more as his own release splattered across his own reflection in the object opposite of him, making it look like he just came all over his face.

The thick substance stuck to the glass, flowing down in a somehow even more filthy way. His face looked like a wreck, blushing furiously as he basked in the aftermath of his orgasm, the first one shared with the heat of another. Has he lost his mind? Allowing you to do all these humiliating things to him? But it felt so good, he couldn’t even deny it anymore, slumping into your arms with no strength left in his limps. You had to embrace him tightly to prevent him from crashing forward, otherwise he might have destroyed your poor mirror.

He glanced a few times at his own image, slowly coming to terms with his rather.. unique appearance. You really did a number on him, making him wither and turning him into a ruined mess. Should he say he was impressed? Nevertheless, it seems he wasn’t as aggressive anymore post-climax, or he frankly couldn’t muster up the energy to get angry now.

What a shame though, that his clothes got dirty as well. All soiled and soaked with his bodily fluids, dark spots appearing everywhere. Ah, a shame? Why did he think that… did he actually grow fond of those scraps of fabrics? He was still shaking ever so slightly, panting and heaving even though he didn’t need air to survive. Maybe it was just a way to show his exhaustion, and he settled deeper into your arms. For reasons beyond his own understanding, he found comfort knowing you cared enough to tend to him like this.

You didn’t stop your movements until he came down from his high, helping him get through it more easily. Once he came back to his senses, you predicted that he’d jab his elbow into your ribs or something, considering his usual violent tendencies, but nothing of that sort happened. All he did was pick at the frills clinging to his humid skin, while staring at himself through the mirror. Seeing this, the next words crawled out of your mouth on their own, “will you still be my model, scara? If possible, in the future as well?”

This time, he agreed without any arguing nor protest. But for now, the modelling stuff will have to be postponed until you get him a new, clean outfit. A silent nod of acceptance, before he whispered, “don’t forget, you are in charge of bringing the clothes for me to wear.”

Tags: @ghostiegirl56 @thisisnotangel @ghostgoosygoose @i-dont-fooken-know @chuuya-brainrot @allys-strawberry-garden @thigh-o-saur @demonic-anon @fem-dom-roze @strawberry-snake-love @mulchdevours @sushimuesli

Nini!rant 2.0

Cuz I’m already behind schedule, I’ll start cherry picking the fics I want to do and finish them on time, so that they will be posted on the day they are supposed to release. As for the rest, they’ll be done at a later time lol

Yeaaaa, once again I suck at meeting deadlines *sigh* I just can’t let the quality suffer under it. If I don’t like the fic then I’m deleting it haha.

But hey, 19 days done already, which means I’ve written at least 10 fics this year. One more than last year :> let’s see how many more I can finish before October ends….

Today was anything but forgettable, much to Wanderer’s frustration. He had hoped the day would pass quietly, with everyone treating it like just another ordinary moment. After all, wasn’t that the truth? There was nothing significant about his birth—so why was everyone so insistent on making a big deal out of it? Yet now, the more they celebrated, the harder it became for him to ignore.

As much as he just wanted everything to get over with, he couldn’t argue about Nahida’s insistence on “celebrating the mundane.” Of course, his preferences still matter as he is the ‘star of the show’. Cake? No thanks. A small gathering? Too exhausting. Anything remotely festive? Not happening. So you came to the rescue, steering him to another room where you left your special present for him.

Nothing good ever comes out of your plans—that’s what Wanderer likes to think when you’re in his radar, still he chooses to follow you every time. Soon enough, he finds his own body adorned with crimson ropes, one he saw frequently back in Inazuma.

The ropes formed a criss cross pattern along his figure, accentuating the elegant lines of his slender frame. Each knot was meticulously placed, snug but never harsh, binding him in a way that felt both secure and intimate.

“You wear it well,” you murmured, your hand grazing along his torso, trailing goosebumps in its wake. You feel his back arch in the slightest, chasing the brief contact on your palm that stopped on his stomach.

You leaned down to press a kiss on his forehead that moves down to his cheeks. Then, your lips reached his neck, his head tilting instinctively to give you more access, letting you savor the moment before moving along to his chest.

Breathing was unnecessary but despite it all, his chest heaved as he responded to every movement you made.

“Already so reactive,” you teased, nipping lightly on his neck. The heat of your breath sent a ripple through him, his muscles tensing beneath your hand as he squirmed slightly in his bindings.

“Shut up,” he muttered, his voice quiet and his usual sharpness dulled by the intensity of the moment.

You chuckled at his soft retort. Now moving down to his chest, you peppered kisses in between the spaces of the red ropes. It stopped the puppet from moving too much yet you can feel him squirming with every press of your lips on his skin.

Wanderer groaned, “Get to it already.” His violet eyes glared at you, but there was no mistaking the way his body leaned toward your touch, betraying the defiance in his words.

“Patience, Kuni,” you murmured while leaning in close, your lips brushing against his ear. “You’re the one who said you didn’t want anything for your birthday. Now you’re acting like you’ve been waiting for this all along.”

“Ugh, just– please..” Wanderer whispered, his voice soft, almost inaudible, as his pride gave way to the need coursing through him. If it weren’t for his wrists tied up above his head, he would’ve pulled you down to take what he wants.

“No need to beg, sweetheart,” you said softly while lowering further until you’re met with his thighs. Gently, you lifted both limbs, resting them securely on your shoulder. “We’ll get to it soon enough.”

Wanderer’s breath hitched, his violet eyes wide and unfocused as you leaned in, pressing soft kisses along the length of his legs. Your lips moved slowly, deliberately savoring every inch of his skin. First, the curve of his knee, then the softness of his inner thigh—each kiss drawing quiet whimpers from him that he tried, and failed, to suppress.

Your teeth sank gently into the soft flesh of his inner thigh, leaving behind faint crescent-shaped marks on his pale skin. The contact drew a sharp gasp from Wanderer, his cock twitching involuntarily in response to the mix of pain and pleasure.

“Stop teasing..!” he mumbled, though it came out breathy and strained, betraying how much he was already unraveling.

You chuckled softly, dragging your tongue over the marks you had left, savoring the way his thighs trembled beneath your touch. “I can’t help it. You’re so responsive, Kuni,” you said, your tone dripping with adoration. “It’s addicting.”

You turned your head, your breath brushing the sensitive underside of his cock, drawing a sharp intake of breath from Wanderer. One of your hands released its grip on his thigh, your palm now wrapping around his shaft.

“Mnn.. hAH–!” The broken sounds tumbled from Kunikuzushi's lips, his violet eyes flew wide, darting downward in disbelief, only to witness you taking his member in your mouth without warning.

“Fuck.. at leastmmph–give a warninghh..” His words melted into a strained moan as his head fell back against the pillow, his hands balling to a fist, unable to grip on anything thanks to the ropes.

You pulled his cock out with a wet pop, “Where’s the fun in that? Your surprised face is so irresistible, I couldn’t help myself.” You emphasized by licking a strip along his shaft, your tongue swirling on the tip.

“Unghh.. [name]..” He whimpered, hips bucking involuntarily closer to your mouth. You can taste the precum seeping out of the slit, a flavorless fluid for a puppet yet tastes something uniquely him. Your fingers gathered the remaining lubricant, using it to slick up his hole.

Slowly, you pushed two fingers past the rim, his inner walls hugging your digits. “Relax for me, sweetheart,” you coaxed. The words seemed to melt into him, making his entire body shudder in response, the tension in his muscles slowly giving way.

You let go of his other leg, bending back up to watch his face contort to pleasure with every pump of your fingers in his slicked hole. His eyes would flutter close, mouth hung open to let out the faintest grunts and moans.

“Don’t hold back, I wanna see you enjoy every moment,” you leaned closer to him, capturing his lips for an intimate dance. Wanderer has been waiting for this—almost restlessly as you feel his tongue swirl around yours in undeniable need.

Your fingers scissored his inner walls, curling them just the way he likes it. As you feel him relax with every thrust, your own arousal spiked up. Finally pulling out, Wanderer whined to the kiss, his ass trying to capture your fingers back.

He breaks the kiss, his violet eyes glaring right at you, “You’re teasing me again.” You can almost see him pout, but no need to point it out, it might make him feel worse. So instead, you chuckled and pulled back, observing his body for a moment.

The once steady and defiant puppet is now reduced to a needy, breathless wreck; his restrained form showing another vulnerable side of him, one that’s more intimate yet tempting.

“Alright, no more teasing..” You hummed, brushing the strands of hair that’s sticking to his forehead. “Since you’ve been a good boy, it’s only fair I give what you’ve been waiting for, no?”

A spark ignited in Wanderer’s eyes, he watched you lift and fold his legs to his stomach. His position didn’t allow him to see what you were doing but he could feel something nudging his entrance, his inner walls instinctively making way.

“Ahhnn..” His eyes closed as his head tipped back to the pillows. As you bottomed out, his hips slowly grinded against yours, just barely as the ropes helld him back.

“You feel so good, Kuni,” you praised, keeping a steady rhythm with your thrusts. Your cock slides to and fro with ease; wet, obscene sounds already coming out from his behind.

The puppet’s eyes flickered to yours, holding the eye contact as the intimacy in the atmosphere grew. With every breathless cry from him, you feel his body tense and release under your hands, and the once rhythmic and deliberate movements turn into something more desperate.

Wanderer’s mouth hung open, moans escaping him without a fight. “Morenn.. don’t stop.. hah–” his moans increased along with the intensity of your movements. What the birthday boy wants is what he gets.

You held on to his hips, his legs dangling on either side of your body as you pounded him to oblivion. The head of your cock hits his prostate dead-on, making his eyes roll back.

“OHFfuckkk.. YES!♡ Jjust like ffhhattt..♡” His tongue lolled out of his mouth, words slurring almost incoherently. The sight of him in such a helpless state, reduced to nothing more than a puddle of desire, only makes you smile.

“Good boy, Kuni.. Doing so well for me.” You looked down, his once composed demeanor now reduced to a breathless, pliant mess beneath you. His face flushes, his eyes wide and hazy as he looks up at you, unable to form a coherent thought.

You run your hand through his hair, softly tugging at the strands, and he lets out a soft whimper. His body trembles at your words, and you can see his chest rise and fall with every shaky breath he takes.

A strangled moan escaped his throat as he shut his eyes tight, his entire body feels like it’s vibrating with need. “[name]..! ♡” he gasps, voice raw and desperate, his back arching as if he’s trying to pull you deeper, closer.

You can feel him breaking, his composure slipping faster with every word, every touch. His breath becomes a frantic mess, his body quivering in pleasure as his whimpers turn into soft cries, echoing in the room. “[name]..♡ I’m ccloseehahh..!”

You increase your pace just slightly, pulling a loud gasp from his lips. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Let me see you fall apart,” You lean down to whisper in his ear, trailing your lips along his jaw.

His cock twitches with every shift your hips make; the words, the praise, the permission to surrender—all of it causes him to completely lose himself. His body jolts, his breath quickening, as he gives in to the overwhelming pleasure. A low moan escapes him, his entire form shaking with the release.

“Ccummin♡–I’m cummINGHH–!♡♡” Wanderer’s voice cracks as a pure, unadulterated scream escapes his throat. His body finally gives in, shuddering violently under your touch.

As you push him to the edge, the overwhelming sensations break through all his barriers, making him cry out from sheer ecstasy. His hands clenched into fists, fingers twitching in rhythm with your movements. His cock spurts with ropes of cum, dripping down to his pelvis.

The air is thick with the warmth of the moment, both of you panting, bodies still tangled in the aftermath. Wanderer’s chest rises and falls rapidly, his skin glistening with a sheen of sweat, eyes still hazy from the intensity. His limbs feel like jelly, limp and exhausted, but his gaze softens as he looks up at you.

You gently brush a strand of hair from his face, your hand tender against his flushed skin. “You did so well, Kuni," you murmur, your voice gentle but full of praise. "I’m so proud of you.”

You don’t pull out yet, letting him bask in his afterglow. You cupped one side of his face, watching him lean into you. His eyes are glossy with unshed tears, clearly fighting against them from falling. “Let’s go on a date after this, hm?” you hummed while carding your fingers through his disheveled hair.

He lets out a quiet laugh as he processed the shift from intensity to calm. “A date… after all this?” His tone is still a little breathless, but the smile in the corner of his lips was genuine.

“What? Do you prefer a round 2?” you ask with a playful glint in your eyes, your voice low and filled with mischief.

“Maybe let’s start with taking these ropes off..” Wanderer murmured, his voice soft but tinged with a familiar bite of sarcasm.

You chuckled at his deflection, the sound earning a huff from him as he shifted against the pillows. “Alright, birthday boy, hold still,” you said gently, beginning to untangle the ropes with care.

“[name].”

“Yeah?”

“...Nevermind.”

Wanderer looked away, his expression unreadable, though the faint dusting of pink across his cheeks betrayed him. You tilted your head, studying his face as he avoided your gaze. It wasn’t hard to guess what he was hesitating to say.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you leaned closer. “I love you too,” you said gently. Before he could react, you pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek, feeling the heat bloom beneath your lips.

“Happy birthday, Kunikuzushi,” you murmured, the corners of his lips tugging upward ever so slightly.

“...Tch, whatever,” he muttered, though the softness in his tone gave him away.

"stop— stop looking!" scaramouche growls. "it's—" he gasps loudly when the tip enters him yet again, face already red from all the blood gathering in his head.

"it's what, scara..."

"it's— ugly…"

at this, you click your tongue and stop. "ugly?"

scaramouche becomes angry, deflecting from his quickly rising shame. "yes, ugly. seriously, stop with this stupid game you're playing, i don't need you to act like you're into th—"

you thrust into him, deep and hard. scaramouche's words are lost in a strangled gurgle as his eyes roll back.

"it seems i need to fuck that thought out of you."

with one roll of your hands, you shorten the rope connected to his tied wrists, tugging them upwards. slowly, you start to roll your hips back, watching as the rim catches and slides over your cock. you moan. "aah, scara… you look so, so pretty like this"

"fuck… you… ngh— a-aahn…"

you breathe heavily. "fuck. fuck, scara. you take me so well. look at you, moaning like a slut..."

"shut— shut up. fuck. i'll kill you. i swear i'll fucking kill y— MGH!" you slam back into him. any further protest is drowned by the sound of thighs hitting flesh in sharp slaps as you start pounding into him. harder and harder you thrust back inside, needing to reach deeper, faster, harder.

it doesn't take long for scaramouche to lose his composure. on the surface of the coffee table, he rolls his head almost limply to the side. his eyes are blurry with pleasure, but still he tries to look at you out of the corner of his eye - to make you see exactly what you are doing to him.

you breathe a laugh, panting hard. under scaramouche's mouth, a steadily growing puddle of drool forms. he twitches, legs giving in.

you grab his hips so hard his skin will certainly bruise. scaramouche is not yet allowed to stop taking you. you stare and stare, fucking him until the world starts to tilt, until your cock feels numb from sheer pleasure, until you start twitching so hard that it's visible on the front of scaramouche's stomach—

you cum hard, gasping for air. white stars form in your vision, and you can feel your hands tremble on his soft skin.

"haha…" you laugh, out of breath. under you, scaramouche whimpers quietly.

after a moment, you pull out slowly. a thick line of cum connects the tip of your still slightly twitching cock with scaramouche's warm, fluttering hole. "ahh… fuck. my cum… hahaha… deep… deep inside you…"

scaramouche lets out another whine. his hole clenches before releasing a white drop of liquid. he whimpers, trying to say something.

"mh?" you ask, using your thumb to smear the droplet around the throbbing hole. "speak up, scara…"

amidst his wordless whimpers, you push your thumb inside and laugh again, feeling scaramouche milking it powerlessly.

"i wonder when you came…"

"mmglh…" scaramouche answers. when something warm touches his freely leaking cock, he flinches lightly. a moan tumbles over his lips. with the palm of your hand, you rub the tip of his soft erection.

"or rather… how many times." scaramouche's eyes slowly roll backwards. with a grin, you raise your hand back up and glide your tongue over the palm, humming appreciatively at the taste. "yum ~"

"no…more…" scaramouche finally breathes. "can't…" your arm slings around his belly. with ease, you lift him up. "ahn—"

"no more? no more, scara?"

"no... more..."

"but baby..." you place a soft kiss on his temple.

"we were just getting started."

You didn't think that someone like Scaramouche would want to allow you to do something like that to him, but he nodded his head, asking when you wanted it to happen. At the mere mention of you tying his hands made him feel warm, stomach fluttering, but he couldn't show how he actually felt about your suggestion. You loved having control in the bedroom, and the both of you would get.. something out of it, so why not?

You tie his hands together with a belt that you hadn't used in your outfits for quite some time. You made sure that it wasn't too hard on his wrists, hooking a finger between his skin and the material. Scaramouche was eagerly watching you, a small blush already apparent on his cheeks.

After properly restraining him, you move away, sitting down in front of him. You cup his face in your hands and lean in for a kiss, Scara returning it immediately. Shutting your eyes, you already get into action, moving your hands over his body, one resting at chest while your other moves down between his legs. He bucks his hips towards you, wanting you to touch him already. It made you laugh against his mouth, but you did as he wanted. You slowly moved your fingers over his clit and pushed one into his entrance.

You move away from your kiss, staring at him with a curious expression. "You're already a bit excited... I thought I'd be the one enjoying your hands being tied," you spoke, moving your finger slowly in and out. He shook his head, letting out a small moan, "I'm- not excited about you tying me up, dumb ass."

You roll your eyes at his response. Who is he trying to fool? Whatever. You know what to do with that attitude in bed.

You push another finger inside him, pumping them at a slow pace. He moans softly while you move to his neck to kiss his skin. You drag your teeth down his collarbone to his chest, finding a good spot to mark. He twitches from the sudden bite, cursing under his breath. You not speeding up your fingers was making him groan, trying to move against them to feel more. You gazed up at him and moved your fingers at a faster pace, which caught him by surprise.

You watched him try to move his hands against the restraints, so you fingered him a little harsher for that. He moaned at that, face flushing red. You continued to bite at his chest, dragging your tongue up to his collarbone, biting at the skin there as well. You felt his head fall back as he pushed his hips against you, making your fingers hit deeper. He was tensing his thighs, his stomach in knots at a building release.

You gazed up at him before detaching yourself from his skin and watching. He was slightly twitching, his hands digging into each other in the restraints. You smirked, slowing your fingers down, which immediately got a reaction out of Scaramouche. "No- Fuck, no, don't-" He whines out, trying to catch your fingers, but you already pulled them out.

"Uh-uh, that's for being a smart ass," you muttered, cleaning your digits, "You'll have to beg, darling." Scara raises an eyebrow in disbelief before letting out sarcastic chuckle. "In your dreams, darling," He used the same petname with sarcasm, "Come on, touch me." He didn't have all day to wait, and he would prefer not to be left here restrained. Fuck, I'd be great if you could tie him up a little more. Tighten the belt around his wrists, make it sting.

You don't respond. Laying down on the bed, you move your hands over his thighs, spreading them apart more. You hear his breath hitch and know that he is staring at you, wondering what you'll be doing, if you'll be doing. Sliding your hands over to his crotch, spreading his folds, you lean in, and his back arches. You don't waste time, quickly lapping at his core with your tongue, humming in the process. Hearing the belt buckle make a sound let you know that he was struggling against the restrains. Scara bucks his hips forward, letting out a louder groan.

"Yes, oh, fuck- Haah, yeah-!" He's feeling that build up again, and he struggles hard against the belt, wishing he could grab your hair. Of course, he doesn't get out because you knew how to properly put that belt around his wrists. Oh, just a bit more... He's moaning loudly, chest rising with each breath, oh dear—

And then you pull away, just when he was about to start saying how close he was. You hear his hands thud against the wall as he groans, annoyance evident in it.

"For fucks sake–" "Uh-uh. Did you forget what I said?" You immediately cut him off, sitting back up. Scara rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath, probably cursing you like usual.

And that's what you do for like, 10 minutes, more or less. Moving your hands on his body, leaving bites, trailing your tongue on his skin, then pushing your fingers inside of him again... And moving them away when he's close. As he shakes, breathing heavily from another denied orgasm, you kiss down his chest to his stomach, attaching your lips against his clit again, and he whines so loudly, knowing that you'll likely deny him again.

He's twitching, legs trying to close around your head just to keep you there and get his release, but you retract your tongue back in your mouth and shut your lips, unmoving. He's left there whining and shutting his eyes, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead as he breathes in and out. Scaramouche can't take this any longer, but he does not want to beg. He simply will not. But he needs your fucking touch, he needs to cum, for fucks sake, why couldn't you give him what he wants?

As his pussy clenches around nothing, your tongue long gone, he swallows the remaining spit he had in his dry mouth. He needs to.. Gosh, can't you just...?

Of course you could. You just didn't do it. You were waiting for him to ask you that, to beg you for release, you already told him that at the start. All of this is entirely his fault. You were not going to budge from his whines, in fact, you loved hearing them. You loved denying him what he wanted, because of his own actions. You will only continue when he does what you want him to do, plain and simple.

As you ghost your fingertips down his body yet again, he gasps, sucking in another shaky breath through his teeth. He can't- He can't do this again. It was clear to him that you could do this all day, which pissed him off so fucking badly.

Your thumb brushes against his core and he jolts, straining his wrists against his restraints. "You're gonna do this again?" You asks, moving your thumb in slow and agonizing circles. Scara swallows down a moan, his cheeks painted red. He doesn't respond yet, hoping, hoping that you'll let him cum this time. But then again, he doesn't want you to pity him, that would be worse. Fuck.

You lean down again to replace your thumb with your mouth, and Scaramouche moans at the feeling of your tongue. You go slow, making sure he feels every drag of your tongue. He starts trembling when you increase your pace, moans and whines falling past his lips. It doesn't take long to feel that feeling building up in his stomach—

His eyes shoot open at the realization, once again, that you were going to deny him again. Right when your tongue was quickly lapping at his core, making him shiver and moan... it started to slow down. Scara whined, his head falling forwards, tears springing at the corners of his eyes.

"Please, I'm sorry, [name], please, don't stop, no-" He choked out, trying to grind against your tongue that was about to move away completely. "Please, don't stop, don't- don't, please, [name], plea-ahse." His voice cracked slightly at the end.

You stayed still for a moment before getting back up. Scara stares at you in some shock, about to say something, but you shut him up by harshly pushing your fingers inside of him, immediately starting to move them at a quick pace. He gasps, almost choking from him inhaling new air.

You put your other hand on his chin, moving his head sightly upward so he'd meet your eyes. You pushed your two fingers further, knuckle deep now, he mewled in response. You raised your eyebrow at his stare, smirking at his pathetic noises and moans.

"What, don't you want to cum?" You ask, leaning in closer to his face, "Beg. Or I will stop." His eyes widen and he whines, pulling at his restraints again. "No, no, no, ah, don't stop, please-! No- mmhh, fuck, don't- gah- Don't stop-! Please—" He's shaking in your hands, moaning from the overwhelming pleasure, feeling himself reaching that high at an incredible speed.

He starts bucking his hips, unsure if he's ready to cum all over your fingers or if he really, really wants the release. Your eyes are half lidded as you whisper, "Keep begging." It was beautiful. You liked seeing this. His breaths were quick as he shook in your hands, the belt making noise as he tried to move his hands again.

"I'm- I'm so close, gah, fuck–! Please, [name], please please please, fuck, I'm- I'm gonna-" He struggles to keep his eyes open, from how fast he's breathing he starts to feel dizzy, "Don't stop, please, I'm begg- ngh–!"

You quicken your pace, and his body jolts forward. He gasps and moans louder than he did before. He's about to- There's so many feelings currently inside of him, he's not even sure what is happening right now, is he going to cum? Can he even do that anymore after all of this denial? Your fingers feel so good, and they're quick, and he's trying to catch his breath between his moans.

He doesn't have time to think about anything as your fingers hit impossibly deeper, and he snaps with another loud moan that was almost comparable to a whine. His eyes blur, a tear or two running down his cheeks as he shakes, you hadn't stopped yet. You felt his walls tighten around your fingers, indicating his climax, and then you felt something more. As you looked down at the scene, you saw him squirt. Something you haven't seen before.

He himself didn't even register that, mind going blank from the pleasure he finally got to feel. You slowed your fingers down, pressing kisses on his neck in a soothing manner. He blinks a few times, coming back down, heavily breathing. Scara moves his head to the side, trying to look at you. You gazed up at him with a smirk, "That wasn't so bad now, was it, baby?"

He feels his cheeks flush again. "Shut up.."

Thank you for the request! Hope you enjoy the taste <3