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azullumi · 3 months

Note

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

“say yes to heaven” ; wanderer/scaramouche

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

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

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

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

i. hand

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not unloveable.”

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

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

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

ii. forehead and cheeks

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

iii. lips

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

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

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

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

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

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

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #genshin #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x you #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche imagines #scaramouche x reader #wanderer scaramouche #genshin wanderer #genshin impact wanderer #wanderer x reader #wanderer fluff #wanderer genshin #azul.writes

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yuutx · 1 month

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ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔. . 𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔. . (𝒮𝒞𝒜𝑅𝒜𝑀𝒪𝒰𝒞𝐻𝐸)

coworker! scaramouche x f!reader ﾉ sfw content. ﾉ sfw + confession ﾉ modern au ﾉ coworker au ﾉ friends -> lovers ﾉ pure fluffy content ﾉ not proofread ! ꒰ᐢ˵´ ˆ `˵ᐢ꒱

i havent written something fluffy in soo longg . . i missed writing pure, soft fics . . art credits go to @/yakumon_ on tiktok ! ! ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !

The night was still young, the hour only barely creeping into the early hours of the morning, and yet Scaramouche found himself already exhausted. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, the beginnings of a headache starting to throb at his temples. The day had been long, his work seemingly endless, and his energy was dissipating. He had a mountain of paperwork waiting for him, a stack of forms and contracts and proposals sitting on his desk, untouched, the documents left abandoned for weeks. The pile was nearly toppling over, the edges curling up, and he frowned, a look of distaste flickering across his features. His gaze shifted towards the window, the view overlooking the cityscape. The lights from the buildings stretched up into the sky, the city aglow, the sight captivating. His frown softened, the irritation draining from his expression, the anger melting away. His gaze swept across the horizon, taking in the sight. There was a sense of awe, a sense of wonder, a sense of pride, the view reminding him just how far he had come, how far he had risen. He was on top of the world, the world at his fingertips, and he had done it all himself. His accomplishments had been hard won, the climb to the top a steep one, the path to success a difficult one. But his efforts had paid off, and he was rewarded with a lavish lifestyle, a comfortable existence. Yet, there was one thing missing. Someone special.

He didn't know when it had started, didn't know exactly when his feelings had changed. At some point, she had gone from a nuisance, an annoyance, a thorn in his side, to something.. more. Her presence was no longer an unwelcome one, the sound of her voice no longer grating, the sight of her no longer irritating. If anything, her company was welcome, her voice a soothing one, her smile brightening his mood. It was a gradual shift, his perception of her changing. One day, he found himself looking forward to seeing her, and the next, he realized that he couldn't picture his life without her. She had become a staple in his life, a fixture in his routine, a constant, someone he could always depend on. It was an odd feeling, an unfamiliar one, but he found that he didn't mind it. He liked her, he really did. It had been a long time since he had cared about someone, a long time since he had trusted anyone, a long time since he had let anyone close. But he had fallen for her, became entangled in her, and now, he found himself in a dilemma. He knew what he wanted, he knew how he felt, and yet, he couldn't bring himself to admit it. It was frustrating, the feelings swirling around inside him, the emotions clouding his judgment, and the confusion was driving him crazy.

"Why is it so fucking complicated?" he muttered, the words spilling out.

He let out a huff, shaking his head, trying to clear his mind. He turned away from the window, the view no longer a comfort. He couldn't focus, couldn't concentrate, his thoughts always seemed to drift towards her. She was all he could think about, and he scowled, the feeling of helplessness irritating him.

"Fuck it.. I need a drink.." He muttered, running a hand through his hair.

He stalked towards the kitchen, his strides quick and purposeful, his footsteps echoing through the penthouse. He entered the room, his gaze sweeping over the contents. There was an array of alcohol, the cabinets and shelves well stocked. His eyes fell upon the wine rack, the bottles arranged by color and vintage, and he plucked a bottle from the rack. It was a red, the dark liquid swirling around the inside of the glass. He uncorked the bottle, pouring himself a generous amount, before setting the glass down onto the counter. He raised the glass to his lips, the aroma hitting him first. It was a deep, earthy smell, the scent rich and fragrant. The taste was full bodied, the flavor heavy, the liquid rolling over his tongue. It was smooth, the alcohol burning pleasantly as it slid down his throat, the sensation warm and comforting. He took another sip, savoring the taste, letting the flavor linger on his tongue. He closed his eyes, allowing the wine to soothe his nerves, the tension slowly leaving his shoulders. He leaned against the counter, his mind wandering.

"Y/N.." he murmured, her name rolling off his tongue. "Mm.. I wonder what she's doing right now.."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, a soft look appearing in his eyes.

"I wish she was here.. I wish.." He trailed off, catching himself. "What the fuck am I doing?.." he muttered, shaking his head. "Get a hold of yourself.."

He took another sip, his fingers tracing the rim of the glass.

"..But I want her.." he admitted, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop himself.

The realization hit him like a punch to the gut, his breath hitching, his chest tightening.

"I.. I want her..?.."

He had never said it aloud, never voiced his thoughts, his feelings, but the words were out there now, hanging in the air, and they rang true. He wanted her, more than anything. He wanted her so badly, the urge almost overwhelming, and the need for her burned in his chest, the ache making him dizzy. He couldn't deny it any longer, couldn't fight it, couldn't resist. He was falling, falling fast, and he knew there was no turning back. Not now. His feelings were written all over his face, his emotions clear, and he couldn't hide it anymore. He had to tell her, had to confess, and the thought of rejection terrified him. But the thought of never knowing what could've been was even more terrifying, and he knew he had to do something. He had to risk it all. For her.

With a sigh, he drained the glass, his fingers tightening around the stem, the crystal creaking under the pressure. He placed the glass down, the sound echoing through the room, before striding towards the door. His feet carried him through the hallway, his steps hurried, his mind racing. His heart was pounding, his pulse quickening, his palms growing clammy. His nerves were getting the better of him, his anxiety spiking, the prospect of facing her nerve-wracking. He stopped in front of the door, the wood smooth under his fingertips, the handle cold. He could feel his stomach twisting into knots, the butterflies fluttering in his chest, and his breath caught in his throat. He closed his eyes, steeling himself, before opening the door and leaving the penthouse.

After some time, he reached her apartment, the number engraved on the brass plate, and he hesitated, his hand hovering over the bell. The seconds ticked by, the seconds feeling like hours, the moments stretching into an eternity, and his apprehension grew, his fear building. But, his need for her was stronger, his desire for her outweighing his doubt, and he took a deep breath, ringing the doorbell. There was a moment of silence, a moment of stillness, and then, the door swung open.

You stood in the doorway, your eyes wide, a look of surprise on your face. Your hair was slightly disheveled, your cheeks flushed, your clothes rumpled. You must've been sleeping, he thought. You stared at him, your mouth opening and closing, before letting out a nervous laugh. He cleared his throat, the awkwardness of the situation making him fidget, before speaking.

"Um, hey.." he started, his voice low, his tone hesitant. "Listen, I uh.. I needed to see you."

You cocked your head, your brow furrowing, confusion washing over your features. He continued, the words tumbling out. "I know it's late, and I know it's probably weird, but I had to tell you.." he paused, swallowing, before continuing. ".. I-I like you. Like, really like you. And.. I just needed to get that off my chest."

His words hung in the air, the silence thick, the tension palpable. Your expression was unreadable, the emotions flickering across your face indecipherable. You were frozen, rooted to the spot, your body stiff, the shock making your limbs heavy. He looked down, his gaze dropping, before muttering, "Shit, I shouldn't have said that.." His face burned, the humiliation setting in, and he turned away, starting to walk off, his hands clenched into fists. But, before he could go, you grabbed his wrist, stopping him. He glanced back, your grip firm, your expression serious.

"Stay." You whispered, your voice soft. He looked at you, his gaze meeting yours, his eyes searching your face. "Stay.." You repeated, the words barely a whisper, and he nodded, his hand sliding into yours.

"Okay." He replied, his tone matching yours.

With that, you led him into the apartment, the door closing behind you. The room was dim, the lights off, the curtains drawn. You made your way through the living room, his hand still in yours, the floorboards creaking underfoot. You stopped in front of the sofa, your fingers intertwining with his, and you sat down, the cushions sinking beneath your weight. The silence was heavy, the quietness suffocating, the tension rising. You stared at him, your gaze intent, and he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"Scara..?" you murmured, breaking the silence. "Tell me.."

He looked at you, his brow furrowed, his expression thoughtful.

"What do you mean?" He asked, his tone confused.

"Tell me.." you repeated, your eyes meeting his. ".. tell me how you feel."

He let out a breath, the sound shaky, his nerves getting the better of him. "I.. I don't know.." he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I don't know how to put it into words."

"Then, show me.." you breathed, leaning in, your face mere inches from his.

He froze, his body stiffening, his mind racing. His thoughts were jumbled, the feelings overwhelming, and he swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

"I.." he started, his words faltering. "Oh, god.." Scaramouche muttered, the frustration building. "I can't, I can't." He shook his head, the movement jerky, his hands balling into fists. "I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry.. I've been trying to hold back for weeks, months, and now.." he trailed off, his gaze falling to the floor, the shame written all over his face. "..And now, I'm ruining it, aren't I? I'm ruining our friendship, I'm fucking it all up, just like I always do.." he muttered, his words laced with self-loathing.

You stared at him, his outburst surprising you, the sudden change in his demeanor jarring. You reached out, your palm cupping his cheek, his skin warm beneath your touch. You could feel him trembling, his muscles tense, his body rigid. He looked up, his eyes meeting yours, the guilt in his expression making your heart ache.

"Hey.." you murmured, your voice soft. "Hey, it's okay.." You brushed your thumb along his cheekbone, the contact soothing. "You're not ruining anything."

He took a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping, the tension easing. "Y/N.." he said, his tone pained. "I can't keep pretending, I can't keep lying to myself. I-I want you, more than anything." His hand covered yours, his grip firm, his fingers lacing with yours. "I know this is probably a lot, and I know it's selfish of me, but.." he paused, swallowing, before continuing. ".. but, I want you. And, I think you feel the same." He searched your face, his gaze searching yours. ".. Tell me, tell me if I'm wrong." He implored, his voice laced with desperation. "Please."

Your breath caught in your throat, the sincerity in his voice taking you by surprise. You stared at him. You had never seen him like this, his emotions laid bare, his vulnerability on full display. He was raw, vulnerable, his armor stripped away. And, it was beautiful. You took a deep breath, the air filling your lungs, before exhaling, the sound shaky. Your heart was hammering in your chest. The feelings were mutual, the attraction obvious, the chemistry electric. But, the implications were daunting. You were friends, coworkers, and a relationship between you was risky, the repercussions potentially devastating. But, you knew you had to take the chance. The opportunity was too good, the timing too perfect, the feeling too right. So, with a nod, you leaned in, your lips crashing against his. The kiss was rough, the contact desperate, the need for each other all-consuming. His arms wrapped around you, his hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer. The kiss deepened, the passion igniting, the fire burning. The moment was charged, the feelings intense, the emotions overpowering. It was everything, and more. It was perfect. After what seemed like an eternity, the kiss broke, the two of you breathless, your foreheads touching.

A tear fell from his eye. He was crying. You kissed his tears, and he let out a shaky breath, the sound filled with emotion. "You.." he started, his voice cracking. "You feel the same.." he murmured, his eyes widening, the realization setting in. "I-I don't know what to say.." You chuckled, wiping the tears from his eyes, before placing a soft kiss on his lips. "You don't have to say anything.." you whispered, your smile warm. He smiled back, the sight making your heart skip a beat, and he pulled you into a hug, his arms encircling you. You rested your head on his shoulder, the moment tender, the closeness comforting. It felt right, the closeness, the intimacy, and you sighed, the sound content. It was the beginning of something new, something wonderful, and you knew you were in for a wild ride. But, you were ready. You had been ready. After all, what's life without a little bit of risk?

With that, you closed your eyes, a smile on your lips, the love in your heart growing stronger. And, as the night drew to a close, and the first rays of sunlight crept over the horizon, you drifted off, the man of your dreams by your side. And, when you awoke, the memories of the previous night would remain, the moments engraved in your heart, the feelings lingering. It was the start of something special, the beginning of a new chapter, and you were ready.

You were ready for it all.

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fatuismooches · 11 months

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a lesson in love.

The puppet that had recently begun to live in your village had been acting strange around you lately. His name was Kabukimono, and you had never met anyone like him before. You distinctly remember the first time you saw him, Niwa and the others crowded around him. He had the fairest skin, long luscious locks, and clothing that only the highest-standing nobles in Inazuma could afford. He almost reminded you of a princess.

Although the other villagers accepted him, they were still quite reserved towards him. Niwa, Katsuragi, and a few others were the only ones who would smile and laugh with him, ruffling his hair as if he were a normal human. And though Kabukimono was greatly pleased by this, you could see he was still rather lonely. After all, his friends worked most of the day while he was left to his own devices as of now.

You were fascinated by the beautiful boy who seemed enamored with the most simplest of things life had to offer - collecting fruits (especially Lavender Melon, which seemed to be his favorite), playing with finches and other small creatures, and shyly yet curiously watching the other children play from a distance. You were quite entranced with him, and so you struck up a conversation with him. From that day forward, Kabukimono was a changed puppet.

Kabukimono would constantly stare at you and then immediately look away when you turned to face him. He would trail behind you like a lost puppy until you acknowledged him, and quickly scurry to your side. You would wake up to the puppet sitting outside your house, waiting to start the day with you (you were greatly concerned once you realized he sat there for the whole night.) He’d insist on carrying everything for you, and although he was very strong, he did not have a good sense of balance, and well… you can guess how that turned out. He was quite literally attached to your hip, and it didn’t take long for everyone else to notice as well.

The kids would giggle uncontrollably and start to whisper: “Kabuki and [Name], sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-”, you quickly clamped your hands over their mouths before they could say anything else, while the puppet was confused the whole time. Couples would shoot you knowing looks. Niwa’s wiggling eyebrows and grin did not help you much either. Kabukimono’s love-struck behavior only increased but the problem was that he himself did not understand why he felt this way. Often you would see him with a stumped expression. And well, you had grown a soft spot for the puppet too… you completely adored him. You wanted to make him happy. But first, you must talk with him.

It was a normal day where you were doing nothing in particular, simply enjoying the calmness while Kabukimono sat next to you as well. The puppet had trouble understanding the concept of “relaxing” and doing nothing but he did feel the stress leaving his body whenever he engaged in this activity with you. The birds chirped, the breeze was cool, and everything felt perfect for some conversation.

“Kabukimono, have you been alright lately?” you questioned, hoping to get him to talk about his feelings. The puppet perked up at your voice.

“Me? Yes, I’ve been fine. Why?”

“Well, sometimes I see you looking a little down. I was just wondering why.” Kabukimono was surprised you noticed that, and he felt a bit shy but happy at how much you paid attention to him.

“W-well, it’s nothing really,” he tried to reassure himself and you but you didn’t buy it.

“You know you can tell me anything,” you advised. “I want to help you with whatever’s bothering you.” Kabukimono chewed on his lip, persuaded by your kindness. A determined expression appeared on his face.

“I think I’m sick, [Name],” he said it so seriously you were caught off guard. Out of all answers, you were not expecting that.

“Sick…? But you know you cannot get sick,” you said, trying to hint at the fact that puppets could not contract illnesses.

“I know that, but there’s just no other explanation I can think of! I asked some of the children in the village, and my symptoms line up with what they said!”

“Well, what are your symptoms?”

“My body gets really hot, my palms get sweaty… and my chest starts to feel funny,” he explained.

“Hmm, that does sound like a sickness.” The puppet let out a resigned sigh but then straightened up again.

“But…”

“But?”

“These things… they only happen around you, [Name]. Around everyone else I’m fine, but then as soon as I see you, all these weird things start happening to me,” Kabukimono looked down at his lap bashfully, almost afraid his statement would offend you. Your heart completely melted.

“Hey, look at me, Kabukimono,” you requested, and the puppet slowly complied, looking at you with his shimmering, worried eyes. “Don’t give me that look,” you giggled. “I’m not mad. In fact, I think I know what’s wrong with you. But I… need to do a quick test on you to confirm. Is that okay?”

Hope appeared in his eyes as he nodded excitedly. “Oh, of course! But what do you need to do?”

“Here, give me your hands, Kabukimono,” you said gently, as you placed his soft palms on top of yours. The puppet’s stunned and red-faced reaction already told you everything you needed to know but you still had to take this slowly. “How do you feel right now?”

“I-, I…” Kabukimono struggled to find the words to describe his current state. All he felt was hot, hot, hot from the simple yet affectionate gesture. But the patient smile you gave him was comforting. “I feel very happy, and my mouth hurts from smiling so much. And my body is getting hot like I said before.”

“I see,” you nodded in understanding. You released his hands from yours, much to Kabukimono’s disappointment, but then you placed your hand on his cheek, immediately bringing back his giddiness. “What about now?”

“I feel so…” The puppet was cut off as your thumb suddenly moved to trace your lip. “Ah, it feels like my chest is going to explode!” You chuckled at his simplicity as you removed your hands from him.

“And you’re absolutely sure you only feel this way towards me?” Kabukimono shook his head rapidly.

“No! No, no one else. No one else comes close to you,” he declared, intent on making himself clear, still in awe at the tingly feeling your thumb left on his lips. Your heart sped up from his unintentional adorableness.

“Well, I think I know what you’ve been inflicted with,” you nodded in response. “Yes, it’s quite obvious to me now.” Kabukimono leaned in more, curiosity taking over his body. He was so interested to hear what a smart human like you would say.

“You’re not sick, Kabukimono. You’re simply feeling a rather intense emotion,” you said slowly, hoping not to confuse him. “You are in love,” you finished. Kabukimono’s face was frozen in shock, only a slight shaking of his mouth and eyes could differentiate him from a statue.

“Love… love, i-is that what this is…?” His voice had come to almost a whisper. “Love, like how those married couples love each other?” Suddenly the mental image of him kissing and holding you appeared in his mind and would not leave. “Love!” The puppet could not help but repeat the lovely word again and again. But then a realization hit him and his excitement came to a screeching halt.

“But love… love needs more than one person, does it not? You need to… oh,” the reality of the situation hurt him. Surely you would never return his love. Surely you were interested in someone else, someone who was human. He was just a no-good puppet. Quickly you found your words to comfort him.

“No, no, no, Kabukimono. Look at me, pretty. Please don’t look so forlorn. You need not worry, as I love you too. I love you with my whole heart,” you stated matter-of-factly, in a way that could not be disputed.

It felt like something was stuck in Kabukimono’s throat, as he found it hard to push words out. “You… love me?” You vigorously nodded in confirmation. “You love me,” he repeated as if saying it more and more would help it settle in. “You love me… such an amazing person loves me…”

You squeezed his hand in response. “Yes, I love you dearly, Kabukimono. I want us to be together,” you said softly. The puppet’s mouth opened and closed, not sure how to even respond to such tenderness. But what ended up coming out was a pitiful sob and streaming tears.

“Thank you for teaching me… thank you for loving me. I don’t know how I could-” The boy’s words began to slur as he cried. Although he loved you dearly, Kabukimono’s mind could only think about how you could abandon him as his creator did. Would you soon deem him unworthy or not good enough, and leave him too? You were taken aback at this drastic change in behavior but quickly pulled him into the reassuring warmth of your chest. You now understood what Niwa meant when he said he was an emotional puppet.

“Hey, hey, deep breaths, okay?” You rubbed Kabukimono’s back in gentle motions as you instructed him. “In, out… in, out, okay…?” The puppet followed your directions and with time, his sobs lessened and now he was a curled-up quiet mess that was in your arms. He would not move away from your chest, and you would be more concerned but you knew he did not need to breathe.

“You don’t need to apologize or thank me for anything. I don’t know what you’ve been through, but… I will always be here for you. You are a beautiful, kind soul. I am so happy to love you, my dearest,” you whispered, stroking his hair in a further attempt to calm him. The puppet almost felt like bawling again at your sincerity, but your voice was such a soft lull, all he wanted to do was take a break in your embrace.

“I love you, [Name]...” Kabukimono mumbled softly, as he fell asleep right there on your chest, knowing that he would be blessed with dreams with you instead of his abandonment.

lesson 1. lesson 2. lesson 3. lesson 4. lesson 5. lesson 6. lesson 7. lesson 8. lesson 9. lesson 10. bonus lesson.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #kabukimono x reader #scaramouche fluff #wanderer fluff #kabukimono #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche #wanderer #kunikuzushi #scaramouche genshin #wanderer genshin #scaramouche fanfic

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mattsunnn · 6 days

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thinking about wanderer feeling touch-starved and how he just craves for you and your touch.

wanderer! who flinched when you first touched his face gently. he was just in a fight and there was a bruise on his cheek that you mindlessly caressed the skin in worry. he flinched from the sudden contact and you immediately retracted your hand from his reaction, thinking that what you did made him uncomfortable but he caught it midway, bringing your palm back again on his face to feel your warmth. his head unconsciously snuggled on your heat, eyes closing as he cherished you.

"i like it when you touch me." he opened his eyes to look at you. "if it's you then i'm okay with it." his words shocked you and how he open he's being. you felt happiness spread within your body and you smiled in answer, bringing your other hand up as well to his other cheek. you leaned forward to place a kiss on his bruised cheek before pecking his lips.

his heart leaped and he blushed, he tried to move his face so you wouldn't see his redness but you only chuckled, pecking his lips again. "well, aren't you back to your old self now?"

"huh?! whatever do you mean?!"

of course, if it is you, whatever it is will always be okay.

---

soft wanderer hours because i was playing him awhile ago to explore the desert and i just AHHH

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #wanderer #wanderer imagines #scaramouche #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagine #genshin fluff #wanderer fluff #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #soft hours #mattsunn! thoughts!#genshin impact imagines

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peachseashell · 2 days

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━━ ㅤ꒰ 🩰 ꒱ who is that from ?

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ Includes Wanderer , Kazuha

⋆.˚ - Genshin impact characters getting jelly when you recieve flowers and love letters by someone other than themselves !

⋆.˚ - Gender neutral reader & they are referred as "partner"

⋆.˚ - cw's: jealousy , petnames such as 'dove' , 'my love' are used.

⋆.˚ - a/n: i missed writing , sorry for being away for a while <3 anyway, I'm so bored and i need more requests ! And i might start writing for other fandoms soon , maybe.

━━ ౨ৎ 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑

It was no suprise that you were indeed popular amongst your friends and colleagues at work; you were pretty , smart , nice and everything someone could want in a person. Which unfortunately for Wanderer , made you very desirable to others.

"What is that ?" he hissed and pointed at the paper in your hand with a heart shaped wax seal. "It's a letter, dear." you replied shortly . You earned a scoff from him, "I know what it is. What does it say?"

He visibly gagged at the loving words written onto the paper. "...cringe." he tore it from your hands and threw it away. "Don't be so cruel, they probably poured their whole heart our into that." you frowned at him.

You earned a scoff from him, " So what? You're my partner and everyone should know that by now. " Wanderer is such a drama queen. "Calm down, you're acting like I reciprocate their feelings..." you rolled your eyes at him.

"Do you?" his face darkened . You giggled, "of course not ! You know I love you." you placed a hand on top of his and he finally gave you a small smile, "I love you too."

━━ ౨ৎ 𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐇𝐀

Kazuha rarely feels any jealousy towards anyone who shows affection to you; because you deserve all the love you can get! However , one person in particular has taken a liking to you to the point you're suffocated by them every second with gifts. And Kazuha is fed up with feeling like the third wheel.

"Are those from them?" Kazuha asked , gesturing at the bouquet of roses in your arms. "mhm!" you hummed back. "oh...they're nice." he put on a half fake smile. You noticed this and took his hand in yours, "Are you okay?"

"Yes...why wouldn't I be?" he raised an eyebrow. "You look upset." Kazuha looks down at the roses, "Do these gifts not bother you, dove? don't you get annoyed?" He squeezed your hand.

"hmmm...actually now that you mention it, sometimes it's too much. Do you dislike the gifts?" you wanted Kazuha to open up more to you. "uh...maybe." he said it with hesitation. "they're getting close to you, too close for my liking."

"it's completely fine to feel that way. Kazuha, you know you're the only one I have my eyes on , right?" you giggled lightly. "I know . I don't think you're the type of person to run off with another man." Kazuha removed the roses from your hands so he could wrap his arms around you in a very warm hug.

Why is this lowkey cringey ummmmmm

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #fanfiction #x reader #genshin impact x female reader #genshin impact x male reader #wanderer fluff #wanderer x reader #wanderer x female reader #wanderer x male reader #kazuha x gender neutral reader #kazuha x female reader #kazuha x reader #Kazuha x male reader

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dizzyjaden · 1 month

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❝ all that is ephemeral ❞

Scaramouche x gn! Reader

♤ Summary: Relaxing fluffy evening after your husband comes home from work.

♤ Warnings: Implication of death, immortal x mortal, arranged marriage (but happy !), fluffy Scaramouche :')

♤ A/N: You are the world just as much as you are a small grain of sand. Accept where you are mortal, embrace where you are immortal. Scaramouche will love you anywhere <3

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★

　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　　　　　　 ✦　　

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★

　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　　　　　　 ✦　　

"Darling, what is on your mind?"

Your tender voice cuts through the silence in the room where you sit alongside your husband. His eyelids slowly lift, tired as he seems, he is ethereal when the light from the window of the sunset outside lays itself bare across half his face in his dimly lit home. But as his lover, you do not see his serenity, all you see is the stress in the furrow of his brow.

He does not respond to your question, only brings his lips to meet your cheek, and then asks a question of his own.

"How do you not find boredom while sitting silently?" He whispers, resting his head on your shoulder. "So many I know can't stand still for a second."

Your answer comes more naturally than you expect.

"Your latent presence alone is contentment. Everything that needs to be said between the two of us floats through the room without a voice to accompany it."

Scaramouche stares up at you in admiration, his eyes half-lidded and his lips slightly parted.

"Don't you find life far too short to not speak your mind?" He asks.

You smile sadly.

"I actually find it excruciatingly long."

He smiles back.

"Time has passed so much swifter since I met you." He speaks. His smile falters slightly. "I feel as though life with you will pass in the blink of an eye."

"Is that what was on your mind?" You ask, digging your heels in quickly. It is so uncommon for Scaramouche to talk about his own thoughts and reflections with you.

"Sure... Amongst so many other little things." He whispers.

"Some big Tsaritsa-issued assignment tomorrow?" You question awkwardly.

You don't like the nature of his work. He knows this, so he rarely talks about it. You'd rather he talk about it than attempt to pretend it isn't happening around you.

Scaramouche sighs.

"I don't want to discuss work with you." He mutters. "Everything but you feels akin to work nowadays. I'd like to keep it all separated in my head."

You shake your head in disagreement.

"I'd love to take some worries off your shoulders." You say. "That's it."

He blinks up at you for a few quiet moments before sighing.

"I don't want to discuss anything." He clarifies. "Everything that needs to be said... Floats. Like you said."

You nod, quickly accepting the challenge.

The rest of the evening passes quietly, simply. After a while, you go on to prepare dinner with him. When you first got married, you'd usually shoo him away from the kitchen. Assuring him that you were more than happy to make him dinner, eventually, he admitted he just feels awkward watching you work alone, and you allowed for his extra set of hands.

Your entire engagement was not the most ideal. Your marriage had been arranged. Apparently, it was obvious to the cryo archon that Scaramouche did not have roots in Snezhnaya or attachment to his position. Marriage was her idea for him meant to keep him in place. You were just picked out from all the other noble families in Snezhnaya.

While it was something both of you resented at first, you now wonder that maybe as the goddess of love, The Tsaritsa knew what she was doing. The two of you did fall in love. You were certain you knew what to expect from a marriage with a harbinger, The Balladeer no less. You emotionally prepared yourself to live a life as a servant or a maid, rather than a spouse.

But when you moved in with him, you came to the realization so quickly that he wasn't loud, arrogant, or demanding. He was just quiet. Peaceful, even. Irritable, but respectful when met with confrontation. At first, it seemed as though he was just too tired from work to make his time at home a warzone as well, but affection was born of the inconvenience. He made a habit out of finding where you were in the house and preferred being nearby.

Aside from the servants who assist you in housekeeping, his mansion is empty. Silent rather than quiet. Barren. Anyone would become lonely.

Scaramouche was truly easy to understand. Your observations in his day-to-day life made the pieces fall into place. He wanted to love. He wanted to be loved. He was never sure where to look for it.

You are unsure how anyone could describe him as cruel as he quietly apologizes for merely grazing your side when you begin to set the dining table.

The two of you eat quietly, he practically scarfs his own food down, which humors you. He is always famished by the end of the day.

"Would you like mine as well?" You offer your portion of food to him without a second thought, he glares at you as if you just insulted him.

"Eat your food [Name]." He says in irritation. "Your day was no shorter than mine."

You hum in agreement.

When you finish eating your food, you're surprised to see Scaramouche waiting, staring at you eagerly when you look up to him. You smile.

"Yes...?"

You prompt him, though you know why he's looking at you like that. But, Scaramouche just isn't the kind of person to shamelessly admit that he so desperately looks forward to the conclusion of each day, when the two of you are curled up in each other's arms holding one another tightly in the warm comfort of a giant luxurious bed.

"Nothing." He lies.

And yet, when you go to wash the dishes from dinner, his arms are greedily wrapped around you, hugging you from behind with his face buried in your shoulder. You choose to not mock him about it, he is rather warm.

After you finish the dishes, he follows you into the bedroom where the two of you resign to your usual sides of the room to change into more sleep-appropriate clothing.

You turn towards the bed once you're changed, and realize Scaramouche has already buried himself under the covers, his face deep in the plush of the pillows, obviously exhausted.

You smile, and climb in beside him. He blindly holds out an arm to pat the area you've taken next to him, when his hand finds your cheek his thumb affectionately rubs across it.

"I... Missed you all day." He professes, his voice muffled from the silk covering his mouth.

You can't help but blush at his honey-coated tone. You don't respond but shuffle closer to him, causing him to turn on his side to face you.

He brushes your hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear.

"Will you... Always be here?" He asks quietly. "You won't... Leave or anything?"

"What a notion..." You say in a low voice. "Where did that come from?"

"I want you to say... That you won't leave." Scaramouche said, a slight blush dusting his cheeks to signify his embarrassment.

"I won't leave you, Kuzu." You say certainly, without hesitation. "Ever. Trust me."

His eyes trailed off as he got lost in thought.

"I want to take you... And all that is ephemeral... And keep it for myself. But I can't... All I can do is be in this moment where you are here." He speaks.

Your eyes widen.

"I am telling you I will not leave-"

"You are mortal, [Name]." He whispers shakily. "You can't keep your promise, no matter how badly either of us want you to."

You are confused, but Scaramouche pulls you to his chest before you can speak again.

"Love you... I love you." He kisses the top of your head sleepily. "Get some rest, my love."

"...Goodnight, Kuzu..."

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sixosix · 5 months

Text

and his voice is a familiar sound | scaramouche

forced proximity + childhood friends reuniting, humor, kissing and tension. suggestive implications and suggestive humor, a bit of scara’s mommy issues, wc 5k

ft. a down bad jealous bf scaramouche, bffs heizou and kazuha, and aether bc aether always has to be there

“If I ask you to come with us for a vacation, would you say yes?”

Your bedroom was already too cramped for one person, with what you could afford with your money after quitting your part-time job. It made it incredibly difficult for all parties involved when you invited someone over, especially when that person had no concept of personal space. You barely looked up from the pages of your book, humming halfheartedly to whatever Heizou is saying. You heard vacation and instantly decided to not waste your time.

Heizou must have sensed these thoughts, too, because he forces himself into your field of view by nearly climbing over your lap. “Hey, look at me. Would you say yes?”

“Heizou!” you hissed, pushing him off before Heizou could wrinkle the pages of the book that’s definitely overdue for borrowing time. You started to think about taking another part-time job if your friends kept inviting themselves over and invading your personal space.

Heizou looked at you, his face doing a complicated combination of a frown and a smug grin. “Come on. You never join us on trips…”

“For good reason,” you said, gesturing to the lapful of Heizou you are currently getting bombarded with.

“You’re so mean,” Heizou laughed, thankfully getting off your lap. He refused to let go of you, however, immediately wrapping an arm over your shoulder and pressing up against your side. This must be one of his techniques to make the people he was questioning feel restricted. It was working. “How will you get yourself to settle for a nice, young man with that attitude? What are you even reading?”

“I grabbed whatever book had a pleasing cover so I can tune your nonsense out.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

“What?” Heizou clapped the book shut and turned to you with the eyes of a reprimanding mother. “I swear I’m being serious. Can’t you consider it for even a minute? You’re breaking my heart. Plus, Kazuha’s the one who’s inviting us out.”

Hmm. What a compelling argument. Heizou knew that no one could ever say no to Kazuha. You wouldn’t really care if your absence would break Heizou’s heart, but Kazuha’s disappointed eyes were enough to put a god to their knees.

You zeroed in on Heizou’s wording. “Who’s ‘us’?”

Heizou started listing each with a raise of a finger. “Just Kazuha and Aether—and a friend we met recently. Kazuha invited him.”

You frowned. You didn’t know Aether visited again. “How the hell did Aether get invited?” Then, upon careful reflection: “And who’s the new friend?”

“If he was around, why not, right?” Heizou laughed, carefully setting the overdue book aside from your view. “The new friend’s Scaramouche. Have you met him before?”

What a strange name. Kazuha always managed to befriend people from all over, like a child bringing home turtles and a new species of bugs. You made a note to look him up. “Never heard of him.”

He hummed. “Said he came from Sumeru but he looked pretty Inazuman to me. Funny guy. He’s like a disgruntled baby brother.”

“And you only met him, what, recently? Why is he invited to our group already?” you asked, like the territorial person you are. How come it seemed like you were the last to know about this guy?

Aether was alright. Aether came back every few months to check up on everyone and got roped into all kinds of things with your friends, so you knew him well enough already. You liked his long braid. Heizou and Kazuha had been your friends for as long as you could remember being a college student.

Heizou grinned, patting your head. “Scaramouche’s nice, I promise. You wouldn’t even notice he’s there.”

At your dubious stare, Heizou amended, “C’mon, do you think I’m the type to befriend an asshole?”

Yes, but Heizou wasn’t the type to befriend a major asshole whose opinions he vehemently disagreed with, and he thought belonged better in jail, so you had to think about it for a bit. At the very least, this new guy didn’t seem like a criminal.

Your friends loved traveling, with Kazuha mostly being the culprit, but you liked staying inside most of the time. They never forced you to go with them, so why was Heizou being suspiciously persistent today?

“I think he’s your type,” Heizou finally said, caving in.

“You’re trying to hook me up with him?”

“Not exactly… but you two would seem cute.” He went silent for a thoughtful moment. “I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed if you slept together.”

You made a face.

Heizou laughed brightly. “Alright, alright. You can go back to being the good poster student you are if you promise to think about it. Seriously. Kazuha’s moving to Liyue soon—he’s probably inviting us out because of that.”

“I’ll think about it,” you said, reaching around for your book.

You would. What Heizou said about Kazuha made you remember that there are only a few weeks left until this is all over—then, after that, you all might go your separate ways. That thought floated around your mind for a little while as Heizou made himself comfortable on your bed, sighing before he dozed off.

You sighed, shuffling to give him space. “If this is your way of trying to make me get laid, try to at least be subtle and not weird me out before I even meet the guy.”

You stalked Kazuha’s Insta to search up this Scaramouche guy and nearly dropped your phone.

scaramouche11206. It was empty, entirely useless for your research. Scaramouche’s profile was a public account, had zero posts, and had four people he was following. It was Kazuha, Aether, Heizou, and a Vahumana Darshan update page.

You checked the tagged posts, and your jaw dropped to the ground.

Scaramouche was Kunikuzushi.

Heizou was taking a group selfie in the image, his tongue stuck out and winking while the camera showed two other men. On the left was Kazuha, with his ever-polite smile, then on the other, with the all-black getup was what the tags said was scaramouche11206.

It was a little difficult to tell why you were enamoured with the masked face with a short hime cut for a moment, but the piercing stare to the camera couldn’t be mistaken. It was a minute of staring before it clicked. This was your Kunikuzushi.

You dialed Heizou before you could even think about it.

“What…? It’s five a.m.” He sounded like he just woke up, “What’s up?”

You swiped back to the image of Scaramouche, as if staring at it any longer would imprint each pixel to your brain and bring him to life before you. “Hey, where’s Kazuha? Tell him I’m going.”

YEARS AGO.

Summer. The cicadas rang in your ears. They chirped about as you and Kunikuzushi trudged further into the forest. Sunlight peeked through the leaves, splashing Kunikuzushi’s beautiful face in a delicate glow.

Komorebi. Shadows scattered on the ground. Kunikuzushi lifted his head and turned to you. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

His voice was quiet, but even with the wind and the singing cicadas, you could hear him loud and clear. You could pick out his voice from a crowd. Your heart would know where to find him.

“I like looking at you,” you said. “I like you.”

He accepted the answer and continued walking. You beamed. Usually, Kunikuzushi would scoff and bat your words away, hiding his flustered face. But he didn’t.

Longing. Kunikuzushi turned back to you, stopping in his steps. You nearly bumped onto his back. “Do you like me enough to marry me?”

Was this a marriage proposal? You tried to think of you and Kunikuzushi, walking down aisles and reciting vows, and almost laughed. But then you tried to think of anyone else. You tried to think of a life without Kunikuzushi.

You thought of Kunikuzushi with anyone else and nearly threw up in his face. “You’re the only one for me.”

“Even if I hurt you?”

You frowned. “You would never hurt me, Kuni.”

Kunikuzushi’s expression crumpled. He could never hide anything from you; he was too expressive, eyes round and lip trembling. Your heart sunk to your stomach. You reached for his hands and forced him to look at you. “Kuni, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

He looked at the ground. “I said I didn’t want to live with her anymore. I didn’t really think Mom would make Aunt Nahida take me.”

The cicadas faded. The world fell into a hush. Your grip on his hands grew weak. “What?”

Kunikuzushi didn’t have a good relationship with his mother; you knew that. They were complicated. They always fought and he grew up to loathe her. You knew that. But you didn’t think…

You breathed in deeply. It was not Kunikuzushi’s fault. It was not Ei’s—and definitely not Nahida’s fault. It was just the way things go sometimes.

You forced a laugh, hoping to ease the troubled expression on his face. “Were you proposing because you’re moving away?”

Kunikuzushi blushed. “Shut up.”

Your face softened. He was always so cute when his face was as red as the red by his eyes.

Kunikuzushi inhaled sharply, taking your hands and looking at you with a determined glint in his eyes. “If I were going to ask you out, I would do it better than anyone who would try to marry you. So don’t entertain them.”

The trip’s plan was basically swimming when you could, staying at a hotel, driving out of the hotel to eat somewhere cheaper, and it would be stretched out for a few days. All in all, it didn’t sound too bad. With the type of people you were going out with, you were expecting a lot more drinking (Kazuha) and near-death-related activities (Aether). Although Heizou said it was Kazuha’s trip, he was apparently mistaken.

“It was originally for Scaramouche and his family, but his mother had last-minute changes and couldn’t go,” Kazuha explained as he helped you fit your luggage in the trunk of Aether’s car. “Scaramouche said it would be a waste and told me to invite my friends.”

“Woo-hoo, Scaramouche’s mom!” Heizou cheered.

“When we met her, it seemed like you hated her,” Kazuha mused as Heizou climbed inside the car. You were in the passenger seat while the two were shoved in the back. It seemed that even if you moved to a bigger apartment, you’d end up suffocated by Inazuman men either way.

“Hard not to after hearing Scara’s contempt for her. I’m an empath or something.”

Aether adjusted the side mirrors. “Are we forgetting anything?”

“Where’s the Scaramouche guy?” you asked.

Heizou cast you a sly smile. “He’s already at the hotel, probably buying us other rooms.”

At least another thing about him hadn’t changed: he’s still disgustingly rich. You did some digging about the hotel, and it was the kind of place you could only dream of even looking at. You suddenly felt severely underdressed for a five-star hotel, with only sweatpants, a duffle bag, and a dream.

“Hmm, I don’t think so,” Kazuha said, and weirdly enough, you caught him looking at you curiously from the sideview mirror.

“No?” Heizou crossed his arms behind his head. “I doubt Scaramouche’s the type to willingly share a room with anyone.”

Aether scoffed, laughing under his breath. “Definitely not with us.”

You looked outside to hide a smile. It seemed that your Kunikuzushi hadn’t really changed drastically. This made you feel better about meeting him again.

“What made you change your mind?” Heizou asked.

You sighed and fell into step along with him as Kazuha and Aether went on ahead. There are families crowding the lobby, draped in gold that matched the fabric of the chandeliers overhead. Their jewelry was brighter than your future. Even the floor smelled expensive.

“Scaramouche did,” you mumbled.

Heizou’s brows lifted to his hairline. “Oh?”

“I mean—I don’t know, I’m not sure yet.” You were absolutely sure, but it’d be embarrassing if he didn’t recognize you at all, and Heizou would think you were just lying. It had been years.

Heizou tilted his head. “Well, whatever it is, I’m rooting for you. And if he fucks up, I know how to pack a punch.”

You didn’t doubt it. Heizou definitely knew how to pack a punch.

The hotel was so fancy and so meant for only rich kids that you and Heizou stood out like sore thumbs by looking around. Some woman your age walked past, her chin high and her steps light. You and Heizou looked at each other, then tried to mimic the same grace as you pair sashayed towards the desk.

“What are you idiots doing?” Aether asked as you reached them.

“Fitting in, unlike you,” Heizou said.

A new voice cut in. “Took you losers long enough.”

Scaramouche turned around after speaking to the clerk, his mouth in a thin line and his stare piercing. He also stood out next to the men in polo with his fingerless gloves and gold rings. He looked like he belonged better on an Inazuman fashion magazine cover than on a hotel vacation with a bunch of losers.

Heizou beamed. “Scara!”

“Hey,” Scaramouche said, then his eyes landed on you.

It was hard to tell if there was any reaction on his face because Heizou went up to him to ruffle his hair, stealing away his attention.

“Thanks for inviting us out. I didn’t know you were the type to want to snuggle with his friends.” Heizou waggled his eyebrows as Scaramouche pushed him away with a hand to Heizou’s face.

Scaramouche wrinkled his nose. “I am not sharing a room with any of you three. You snore, Kazuha snores louder, and I would wake up to Aether’s leg on my stomach the next morning.”

“That was one time,” Aether muttered, blushing.

“How many rooms are reserved?” Kazuha asked.

Scaramouche sighed, craning his neck. He had a really nice side profile. “Still two. The other one with a king and the other with two queens. I was supposed to have the first, but you didn’t tell me you were inviting someone else. This shithole’s booked full now.”

Your gaze fluttered away as they all turned to you. You bit your lip, frowning. Did Scaramouche not recognize you? He was acting like he didn’t. He was treating you like he would any stranger. That upset you, but for the entire car ride, you were also preparing for it. It probably would’ve hurt worse if you hadn’t mentally prepared yourself.

Heizou grinned, slinging an arm over Scaramouche’s shoulder. “I suppose you have no choice but to share a bed with us.”

“No.” Scaramouche picked up his luggage and started rolling away. “Heizou, Kazuha, Aether, you share the king.”

The three men turned to you instead, surprise visible in their expressions. It was exactly because Scaramouche decided to share a room with you, whom he never acknowledged since you arrived.

You wanted to protest. If Scaramouche didn’t recognize you and opted for a choice that didn’t involve sharing a room with anyone, you’d rather sleep on the floor in Kazuha and the others’ room. But Scaramouche was already stepping inside the elevator and was holding the door for you.

You held your gaze to the floor the entire time as Scaramouche pointed at a room and told the three they would sleep there. Scaramouche flashed the card against the door of your room, then stepped inside.

“This one’s ours,” Scaramouche said. You couldn’t detect any hint of emotion.

The room was bigger than the two rooms at your apartment. It had two beds, as Scaramouche said, and a TV across. The room was cold as fuck. You shuddered, and Scaramouche remained unbothered with his layers of clothes that probably cost more than you.

As Scaramouche set his luggage on the bed closest to the window, you gathered the courage to not make this trip any more awkward.

You breathed in deeply. “I’m Y/N—”

“I haven’t forgotten.” He arched an eyebrow as he sat on the edge of his bed, staring at you. “Have you forgotten about me?”

“No, no, of course not,” you said. “I could never forget you, Kunikuzushi.”

You stiffened, thinking it was a mistake and there must’ve been a reason he was called by another name, but you took a look at him and got distracted. His face relaxed when you said his name.

I could never forget you. It was sickeningly true. You can never forget about Kunikuzushi. He was your first love. He was so cute with his wide eyes; and he was very clingy, too, which made him all the more endearing.

But looking at the present Kunikuzushi, with his intense stare and permanently bored expression, he was hot, and you started to think that maybe your type was just Kunikuzushi.

Horror settled in your stomach as Scaramouche flashed a wicked grin.

“Then you wouldn’t mind sleeping with me, would you?”

“He said what?” Heizou cackled, hitting the wall as he threw his head back, laughing.

Scaramouche meant it as sleeping in the same room, but he could have— no, should have worded it better. Scaramouche laid down on his bed right after and went on his phone as if he didn’t say anything at all. You blurted some half-baked excuse and left the room to cry about it in your friends’ room.

When Scaramouche said their room was assigned a king bed, you didn’t expect it to fit five people—and Scaramouche said he wanted it for himself? The bed was incredibly big, almost in a lonely way. You have never seen an Alaskan king bed before, but now, sitting on the edge of it, felt as if you could fit your entire apartment on it.

Kazuha was in between Heizou and Aether, their backs resting on the headboard. They were about to sleep, too, but as soon as you burst in, they settled into position and listened intently. Except Aether, kind of; he was texting his sister, who was demanding a room tour.

“I never thought he would be this bold. I mean, demanding to share a room the moment he laid his eyes on you? Wow,” Heizou said, looking terribly criminal with his expression.

“It is surprising,” Kazuha mused. “I’ve witnessed how women flock to his feet and how he bat them all off like he never saw them.”

An unpleasant feeling washed over, which was weird because why would you be upset? Of course they’d flock to him—with a face like that. He had the looks and the personality that would garner him a lot of masochistic fans if he were a character in a drama.

“Does that happen a lot?” The way you spat it out spelled exactly how upset you are.

“No need to get so jealous, now. After that display, I’m positive that he wants as much as you want him,” Heizou laughed, falling forward and resting his elbows on the mattress. He moved his chin to his palm. He looked like he was going to ask if you wanted to paint nails and curl hairs the next second.

Your face felt hot. What was this conversation? You’d much prefer painting nails than talking about this. “I don’t want him!”

Heizou arched an eyebrow. “No?”

Even Kazuha looked doubtful, which was enough of a blow.

“I’m just confused,” you insisted. “You know what happens when you’re in a room alone with an objectively attractive guy? You get confused.”

“I get it,” Aether said, setting his phone aside to share his insight. “This is your sexual awakening.”

“What? No!”

“It definitely is,” Heizou agreed. “Why else are you crying about this to us?”

There was a sense of impending doom at realizing that Heizou was brewing some horrible, horrible thoughts in that head of his. “To stop feeding into my madness!”

Heizou clicked his tongue. “How do you think he feels? His childhood best friend came back to his life looking like that—I’m surprised he hasn't eaten you right up yet.”

You didn’t know what was more horrifying: Heizou implying he thought you were hot, or him implying that he thought Scaramouche thought you were hot.

Your face must’ve looked like a constipated mix between flustered and horrified; Kazuha chimed in to tell Heizou, “You should be more careful with your words. I’ve never met anyone as possessive as Scaramouche.”

“It’s already a miracle he even remembers me. He wouldn’t get jealous. I doubt he actually wants me that way,” you sighed.

“Oh, but you want him that way?” Heizou asked.

You wanted to slap that expression off Heizou’s face. “Of course I do. He was so cute when we were little—I already liked him then. I didn’t think he’d grow up to be so…”

“Sexual awakening,” Aether said again.

“Ow,” Aether whined when you hit him square on the head.

Reluctantly, you returned to your room. Heizou, Kazuha, and Aether told you to get your shit together and face this not-sexual-awakening like a man. Kazuha didn’t say it, but you could feel that he was also thinking it. And if he ever said it out loud, you’d tell him to go fuck off to Liyue already.

Scaramouche was awake. The door clicked shut, and you faintly felt like those heroines locking themselves up in a room to hook up with someone who they didn’t think was the murderer on the front page right now.

“Where did you go?” he asked.

You tried not to let your surprise show, but Scaramouche was staring so intently that you would’ve failed miserably either way. “The other room.”

The longer you looked at him, the more you realized that Kunikuzushi felt like a fever dream. Being only a few feet away from the guy you used to be so fond of, now grown and had an air of haughtiness that would’ve been a turn-off had it been anyone else— it was doing things to you.

“Are you scared of me?”

You laughed and nearly choked on it when registering that Scaramouche was still looking. It wasn’t something like embarrassment. It was more like laughing unabashedly and then sensing that your hallway crush walked past. Maybe it was a bit of embarrassment.

“No. No, I’m not scared.” You moved to sit on your bed, eyes trained on the wall. “You didn’t tell me you were back.”

“You changed your number. You moved out.”

“Oh.” You did do that. Your apartment was very far from your home.

“And I figured you forgot about me or wanted to forget about me because of what I did to you.”

“Oh.” You wanted to say that he didn’t affect you that much. Life goes on; you meet new people and lose them every day, and all that. But Scaramouche was affecting you that much, especially when he’s only a few feet away from you, looking like he wanted you to pounce him.

Scaramouche grinned lopsidedly. “But I guess I don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

What the hell does that mean? Your heart skipped a beat. Did he figure it out? Were you that obvious with your thoughts about pouncing?

Scaramouche stood up from his bed, moving towards yours slowly. “Are you seeing anyone right now?”

You tried to avoid getting too close by leaning back, but he kept drawing his face closer, bending towards you. You’re one last tilt away from him pinning you down on the bed.

“No,” you blurted before you could even think about it. It was a little difficult to think about anyone else when you were a breath away from kissing. “Why?”

Scaramouche’s eyes narrowed, electric indigo. “Do you still have a crush on me?”

“You’re asking too many questions.”

“We’re catching up. This is how it works, doesn’t it?”

No, it was definitely not how this worked. Your neck was starting to ache with this awkward angle, and he hadn’t even answered your question.

“Do you?” he repeated, hovering above you.

You gave up on the painful angle and laid flat on the bed, frowning up at him. You crossed your arms to achieve the stance of someone who will not back down easily. “How are you so sure I even had a crush on you?”

“You’re telling me I’m wrong?”

What was this? Some fucked up game of 21 questions, but Scaramouche was too high and mighty to follow the rules? You didn’t know what to say to that. You wisely decided to stay silent, glaring up at him.

You probably didn’t look intimidating at all. Scaramouche smiled, much less sharper. Almost fond as his eyes flicked down to somewhere below your nose. “Am I still the only one for you?”

Okay. You would back down easily if he kept looking at you like that.

“You didn’t hurt me, Kuni.” You sighed. “You never could.”

Scaramouche straightened, his face carefully blank. It was much harder to read him like this. You sat up, wanting to ask if it was the wrong thing to say. You couldn’t get the words out because he lunged for a kiss.

You might have gasped. You might have made some embarrassing noise while a laugh rumbled from the back of Scaramouche’s throat. But that was all thrown out the window the moment your eyes fluttered shut and you lost yourself in the sensation of his warm mouth on yours.

He pushed closer, and you were pulled back on the mattress, his arms on either side of your head. Your eyes flew open when Scaramouche nipped at your lip. As if suddenly remembering where and who you were, you forced his chest back and gaped.

“What?” He looked irritated you interrupted him.

“At least say it back!”

“You didn’t even say it,” Scaramouche said, one eyebrow raised.

“I like you, Kunikuzushi.”

Scaramouche turned red and then looked humbled that you saw it. “I still like you, too.”

You looked at him up and down. You asked, but you didn’t want to hear the answer. “And you didn’t have anyone while you were in Sumeru?”

“Of course not,” Scaramouche scoffed. “You think anyone there was worth my time? You think I’d settle for less than you?” He scowled. “How about you? Nevermind, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. I’d do it better than any of them.”

You laughed, tugging him close with your arms around his neck. If anyone were to come in, they would assume the worst. Then again, maybe Scaramouche had plans to indulge in the worst.

wake up! let’s eat breakfast at the restaurant we saw yesterday!

ask scaramouche. so he can pay for us

Despite the freedom and space of lying on separate queen beds, you and Scaramouche were huddled and pressed close. And despite books in your bag, you were occupied with huddling and pressing close against Scaramouche. You were lying on his chest while he had an arm resting on your stomach.

As soon as Heizou’s texts appeared on the top banner of your screen, you looked up, and Scaramouche looked like he was going to murder someone.

“It’s a joke, probably,” you said. “They don’t see you as a wallet.”

“It’s not a joke,” Scaramouche said. “I don’t really care about that. You and Heizou close?”

“He’s the one who introduced me to Kazuha and the others.” You sat up from the comfortable position and stretched.

“So you’re close.”

“Oh, very much so.” Then you laughed at Scaramouche’s thunderous expression. “Idiot. Why are you jealous? He’s not the one I’m sharing a room with and was making out with last night.”

Scaramouche’s gaze cut down to your neck. He looked extremely pleased.

You and Scaramouche took the elevator down, holding hands throughout. You felt a little giddy. What must this look like to everyone else? They’d all assume you were out with your boyfriend. As you reached your friends, Aether had just started the car. Kazuha slipped into the passenger seat, and Heizou waved at the both of you.

Then Heizou gasped. Aether turned to you and gasped as well.

“What happened to you? You look like you were mauled by a tiger,” Aether asked, scandalized.

“If the tiger had a short hime cut and a thick wallet, maybe,” Heizou mused. You flipped him off and climbed inside the car. Heizou laughed and sat beside you.

Aether frowned. “What kind of tiger would that be?”

You groaned, burying your face in your palms and wishing that lightning would strike you down. You needed coffee. Or a beer. Maybe if you bat your eyelashes and kissed him on the lips, Scaramouche would buy you bottles of wine.

As if summoned by your thoughts, a figure forced himself in between you and Heizou. Scaramouche worked fast. He glared at Heizou and tugged you away from him.

Heizou’s eyes went wide. “What’d I do?”

“Know your place, Shikanoin,” Scaramouche said. You just wanted to at least not be half-sitting on his lap, but he was proving a point and didn’t let you budge.

Kazuha smiled. “I warned you, Heizou.”

“Damn,” Heizou said. He looked exhausted. He was the one who suggested you and Scaramouche hook up in the first place—did he not expect his intuition to be right this time? “Didn’t take you for the clingy type. Two more days of this?”

“This is not some fling,” Scaramouche hissed. “You think I don’t take this seriously?”

You smiled as your heart fluttered. Scaramouche could be so unintentionally sweet sometimes, not that you’d tell it to his face, because he would grumble and hide his face. You rather liked his face. It was pretty, and you knew that if you tugged his hood down, you’d see a bruise on his neck as well.

“Didn’t take him for a romantic as well,” Kazuha said, thoroughly entertained.

“Wait, are you actually a thing now?” Aether made a face. “What the hell happened in that room?”

Scaramouche smirked. “You sure you wanna know?”

a/n it was already so hard for me to not turn it into a heizou fic dude. That entire first part was so unnecessary i was just hopelessly infatuated. BUT ANYWAY!!1 thank you so much for reading i hope u liked it <3 if u do, leave a comment or a reblog so i can see your thoughts :DD

also, another note: on the day i wrote this fic the insta acc of scara didnt exist. so if it does by the time youve read this fic, its pure coincidence and i have nothing to do w it. or maybe i did, because i came up w the name HAHA

#genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x you #genshin impact x you #wanderer x you #genshin x reader #genshin drabble #wanderer fluff #genshin impact #kunikuzushi x you

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lustlovehart · 1 month

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Hiii! I've never done this before but... What if Scara and reader had a fight... Like a fight fight... and reader was seriously injured due to him being blinded be emotions... What do you think would the aftermath of this...?

A/n: Yet again, another ask that i was originally gonna js give a short thought to, turned into something longer *sigh* (I need to stop doing this).

Summary: [Angst/Comfort]He could never say sorry, even in the moments it mattered.

Warnings: Harm to reader, Scars, Unrealistic Writing of getting hit with lightning,

———

During his time in the fatui, no one exactly had the galls of stopping his rampages. The balladeer is quite famed for his regular intervals of anger, you’re no stranger to it yourself, you’ve seen him mad. it’s just…

Hes never been angry towards you.

You’d get the occasionally scoff every now and then if you uttered something he found foolish, but never has he lashed out at you to such a degree. Not to this level. He’s painfully reminded by his ignorance as soon as his hand crafted eyes lay sight upon your bare form, a body, a human body, covered in scars from lightning. Lightning he inherited, lightning he engaged, lightning he struck you with.

There’s no doubt, the silence is defeaning while you sit with him in the empty room, waiting for one of the medical professionals in the fatui to check on you.

He’s silent. It’s rare. He’s never been quiet for more than 5 minutes with you. He’s either complaining or attempting to make small talk a vast majority of the time, typically the former. But he doesn’t, he doesn’t even stare at you like he always does. You’re about to break the silence before the harbinger breaks it for you.

“You don’t look okay.” He doesn’t look at you, his vision trained on the white tile at his feet.

“Yeah. you struck me with lightning.”

…

“oh.”

It doesn’t hit you until he releases a quiet ‘oh’ from his mouth. Something you probably know better than anyone else that has been on teyvat within his 500 year lifespan.

This man can not say sorry.

“oh? Oh? Kunikuzushi put your pride away for one second.” you don’t try to hide the frustration in your voice. You truly did not mind the eccentricities the puppet in front of you holds, you never did, not even when you first met him.

He still doesn’t answer but you can see the way his face winces and widens in the same moment. Seems he got way too accustomed to ‘Kuni’ and ‘Scara’ to remember that you do in fact remember his given name.

“What else should I say to you? I’ll strike harder next time?” He isn’t getting mad, he was only infuriated earlier, but not now. You can see his demeanor start changing. Whether it be in the direction you want it to go, you’re not sure yet.

“Maybe a sorry? An apology? A “oh forgive me [Name] I love you so much?” He doesn’t answer you, he only scoffs and fall back onto the back of his chair. You don’t miss the way his fingers dig into the cloth of his clothing, probably using it as a replacement for human skin.

The man can’t breathe, but you can hear him inhale and exhale before his next words.

“i don’t know what happened. I didn’t mean to- well not at you.” It comes out softer than the other words hes said to you the entire period of time in the room. His eyes are finally off the floor, trying their best to maintain contact with your own.

Once again, all thats left between the space of you two, is silence. You look away from him for a moment, fiddling with the blanket draped over your legs. You’d like to assume that’s the closest you’ll get to an ‘I’m sorry from him’, but you can’t accept that, so you don’t reply. Ever since waking up, you never were able to see the scars on your body, only the ones on your arms. You wonder if they look hideous.

Your hand reaches behind you to your back, your fingers grazing whatever part you assume suffers scarring.

“Are you worried about how it looks?”

“No, not at all, fighting is commonplace in the fatui.”

“Lying isn’t good, you told me that yourself didn’t you?” Damn him and his pristine memory. You can never remember where you leave your keys yet he can remember things you’ve said to him years ago?

…

“No matter how scarred and beaten you are you’re still [Name] are you not?” With the way he’s looking at you, you’re sure this is another thing he’d want to keep out of the publics knowledge. “Even without your face i’d strike someone down for you in an instant.”

“Oh like you did to me?”

“…” Seems the sweet moment was ruined. You don’t mind though, it’s funny to you.

———

The weeks that followed still held some tension. You’d refused to see him for awhile. When asked by some trembling lower subordinate, one in which the harbinger had personally sent, why you weren’t seeing him, your reply made the soldier fear for his own downfall.

“He’s insufferable right now. I’ll talk to him when he shows me he’s not a man child who can’t admit his faults.” You’ve always been able to put up with his outbursts, but right now, you realize maybe you should turn up your attitude with him.

After that unfortunate event, not unfortunate for you, for the fatuss, your days have seemingly been more dull. You’ve forgotten just how eccentric the balladeer is. Waking up never seemed so boring, the puppet would either be by your side in the early mornings, or knocking on the door ready to whisk you away.

Seems that routine is coming back.

“Oh? Have you finally swallowed your ego-“

“I’m sorry.”

Seems he couldn’t go any longer without you, how sweet.

———

Tagging this, I was super confused if this could be characterized as angst w/ comfort or fluff. I just did both though.

#scara when reader used his full government name:#Reader: Kunikuzushi. Scara: 😨#genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche angst #genshin impact x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer fluff #angst/comfort #wanderer angst #genshin angst #vesperwrites

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chastiefoul · 6 months

Text

giving them flowers ft. genshin characters

featuring: wriothesley, neuvilette, scara, xiao, kaveh tags: fluff random notes: wriothesley is my new obsession

wriothesley

“wrio,” you sang out as you took the last step of the stair leading up to his office, finding him at his usual spot; buried in paperwork with a cup of tea loyal on his desk. upon the sight of you, his face lit up a little. “now the guards just let you right in hm? well it’s no wonder, you’re quite the charmer after all,” he said, his tone playful. you approached him, rolling your eyes. “please, the moment the news spread that i am ‘involved’ with the duke no one was brave enough to mess with me.” wrio chuckled, not denying the fact, as he also did not forget to remind the guards that you have the freedom to do whatever you wanted within the premises.

wrio just hummed in approval, as you went and sit on his lap. “i noticed the pretty things on your hand there, who’s it for?” he asked as he put a hand around your waist, the gesture tickled you a little. “for you.” you smiled. “for me to give sigewinne? i’m pretty sure i’ve told you where she usually is,” he raised an eyebrow, the clueless expression was as clear as day. “silly, it’s for you. this flower is yours.”

he stared at the bouquet of aster flowers on your hand, taking it carefully. somehow for a moment his gaze seemed a bit distant, like seeing through a passing memory. “how lovely,” he smiled to himself, your heart squeezed a little. “indeed they are,” you said softly.

“and you, too.” the lingering gaze landed on you, his piercing icy-blue eyes that’s usually sharp was somehow warm and gentle. he continued, “the loveliest.”

“i was worried when i saw you with that flowers that i might have one of those things you often read and told me in your books, ‘love rival’ is that it?”

you laughed. “really? you, worried?”

“hmm well, i did say i could fight.”

neuvilette

“neuvi?” you called to him as you peeked your head from behind his office door. “(y/n)? such a pleasant surprise, what brings you here?” he smiled softly, leaving his desk to approach you. “i had sometime before work and i wanted to give you this.”

you revealed a bouquet of bluebells from your back.

neuvi’s eyes widened slightly at the object.

“do you like it?” you asked hesitantly after seeing his lack of reaction. neuvilette snapped out of it, noticing the restlessness on your feature as he said, “i love it, i will cherish it.” relief washed over you as you did not detect the sign of him lying about it as he gazed the bouquet with such tenderness. “although, to what do i owe the pleasure of receiving such nice gesture?”

“nothing at all, i happened to see it on the way here and seeing the petals just reminded me of you a little.” you said, keeping the true meaning of the flowers to yourself. “oh? how so?” neuvilette asked, genuinely curious but also enthusiastic over what you said. you quietly chuckled to yourself. “what more do you want me to say? obviously the flowers are so beautiful, very much like yourself.” you smiled teasingly, a little wide for it to be genuine.

the subtlest pink painted his cheek bone at your unexpected response. “only you would compliment me with such words, (y/n),” he shook his head in wonderment, his little smile betrayed his attempt in acting aloof. “you mean the only one that’s bold enough to say it directly to your face, if you refuse to believe it i could go right now and gather enough people to march in here to chant that the iudex of fountaine is so very beau-“

he coughed in bashfulness, the color on his cheeks became more apparent. “love.. it is also only you who’s so fond of teasing me. please perish that ridiculous idea from your head,” he said, his tone feeble and pleadful, something you knew he did only in front of you. you laughed lovingly at his reaction, “i’m sorry, i just couldn’t help it. but you truly are beautiful, neuvilette.”

“dear please.. no need for further flattery, you already have me.” he let out a sigh, shaking his head at your shameless flirting. “it’s not flattery, it’s the truth. i am allowed to compliment my lover whenever i wanted, no?” you smiled. neuvilette once again sigh in defeat. “i suppose that’s alright, so long you let me do the same towards you.”

scara

“what is this..?” he stared at the sunflowers on his hand. “okay so when someone waters a seed and fertilize them-“

he scoffed, “you know what i meant.”

“it’s a gift.” you answered curtly, as if the whole thing doesn’t need a further explanation, and it really didn’t it’s just a certain grumpy gremlin demanded it. “did you do something wrong?” he eyed you suspiciously and you’d hit this man if he wasn’t so endearing. “god why are you saying it like i’m a bad person or something, you know what? i’m taking it back.” you said as you made no attempt of reaching out yet he shielded the flowers with his arms anyway.

“i never said i didn’t want it. also it’s mine now, have you no shame taking back what you’ve given?” he narrowed his eyes at you, and returned his attention to the object at hand.

“a ‘thank you’ still works just fine, you know?” you said, having a hard time holding back a grin by his hard attempt not to show that he liked the gift. his gaze rested on the flower for another minute, as if reminiscing something. “i just... no one really ever...” he said with a voice barely above a whisper; a moment of weakness where he sounded vulnerable.

“i’ll just have to give you many more of it then,” you smiled at him, for a second you swore he looked excited. “you don’t have to, i have no use of this.” he said, sounding like he didn’t mean a single word he said. you raised an eyebrow at him.

“although.. ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ.”

xiao

“i didn’t bring your almond tofu today, but instead i wanted to give you this,” you said, handing him the iris flowers. “flowers..?” he tilted his head, wanting you to elaborate as to why you gave him that. what’s the occasion? where did you get them? why are you giving them to him?

“i just thought you’d like it, do you?” you smiled unsurely. “i.. don’t mind it however, such vibrant and lively things, it fits you more,” he said nonchalantly, as if what he just said didn’t make your heart do a backflip. “you’re looking at it the wrong way. even after surviving storms and rains, flowers stood tall proudly through it all—and that’s why i think it resembles you way more,” you said confidently.

xiao was quiet at your words, before letting out a rare soft smile. “if you feel that way so strongly, i have no choice but to believe it, then.”

kaveh

“for me!?” he asked excitedly at the bouquet of tulips. you nodded just as excited. “oh i love this so much, it would go so well on my desk after i put them on a vase,” he said, his eyes glistened with joy. “if i knew you’re going to be this excited i would’ve gotten them sooner.”

“no harm done my love, i am just beyond happy you thought of me.” he smiled, giving you a kiss on your cheek. “now, won’t you help me pick a container to put these flowers in?” he said, already taking your hand and leading you to his collection of things. “you say that but everytime we do this it’s always you picking different stuff up while you demand for my words of affirmation,” you said, holding back a smile. “and?” kaveh raised an eyebrow, “and i love it, of course.” you laughed.

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