#kunikuma’s fics

[kunikuma]

sorry i'm late, sweetheart

relationship | wriothesley x afab! fem! reader

synopsis | the duke had been held up for a little too long in the deep sea and... well. content | smut, no plot, MDNI!cw | pet names (sweetheart, pretty girl, good girl, my love), usage of the term "fucktoy" but not in the degrading way? (bro is just feeling good), c.ock bulge, marking, biting, fucking from below, usage of “cunt”, trying to top but y/n folded fast (mb im y/n), praise kink, kinda meh a/n | i wrote this idea down after he took too long to come home. a shiny, drunken $30 was what convinced him. i got MAD but i literally got whipped by him mid fic and then lost my anger.

masterlist

“you’re late.”

he laughs hoarsely at your repeated words of the night. he leers at the swell of your breasts as they rise and fall with your movements when you steadily bounce on his lap. moonlight illuminated your left side and damn did the beams complement you well.

your perky nips were peaked by the cool chill of the night air and he had half the mind to just apologetically lave his tongue over them to warm them right up.

the man could catch glimpses of shiny slick coating your quivering inner thighs each time you impatiently wiggled on his lap. your pretty little fingers tugged at his crimson tie, yanking him close as you narrowed your eyes down at him.

waiting for an explanation.

gruffly, he laughs at your scrunched expression.

“sweetheart, you look quite—“

the compliment withers in his mouth as a moan cuts through his words and he clenches his jaw shut. you clamped down on his hard cock as you took him all in, a twinge of pain from the sheer amount of him shot through your body. your bated whimper failed to get smothered by the back of your hand as you started to ground your hips against his, wanting to see him crumble by your hand.

wriothesley’s head lolls back, exposing his scarred neck to your eyes as he chuckles in disbelief. his hazy eyes examine the teensy fluttering dust particles catching the moons’ light before he focuses on the upside-down clock on the wall.

the young duke drags himself back into the situation at hand.

your hand that was once at his tie had traveled to his shoulders, pressing him firmly against the back of the couch. your little rocking bucks of your hips were endearing, heavily contrasting the irritated creasing of your brows.

it was cute how you thought you could jerk him around and pin him to the soft cushions behind him, but he’d let that slide for now.

“compliments will get you nowhere, your grace.” you hiss his title in his face, half-genuine venom seeping into your tone. your slow yet methodical pace had come to a complete halt, ceasing the pleasure building in his exhausted bones. he quirks a brow at the sass thrown in his face and he grins.

tiredly, his chest heaves as he exhales, centering himself. wriothesley licks at his lips at the sight of you confidently handing him your iciest glare in quite some time.

sure, you were pissed, and he knew that. but could you expect him to take you seriously when you looked that cute when you were mad? could you expect him to focus with the way your cunt’s walls fluttered around his dick?

“‘m sorry,” he starts, his head rolling to the side as he eyes your form caging him against the way-too-small couch in your quaint home in the fontainian countryside.

your thighs had unconsciously relaxed against his, continuing to smear your arousal on the pants you were too impatient to allow him to remove when you found him resting on the living couch.

earlier, when you stormed over to demand where he had been, he peered from under his draped arm to sheepishly explain he didn’t want to slide into bed with you. he argued you’d wake up and he’d hate to disrupt your rest.

currently, his hands slid onto your thighs, giving them a firm squeeze and he sighed with glee at how your walls twitched around him. the warden gave you a genuine softly smile, hoping to disarm the metaphorical knife at his neck. he certainly did not need another scar marring that area, even if you did think they were oddly attractive.

you simmer at the way his stormy eyes seemed to flicker guilt before his lovesick gaze took over. he drummed his fingers on your legs. he continued his words when your sharp gaze seemed to falter, providing him an opening to deliver the go-to blow you despised hearing. 

“there was an emergency–“

when he saw you open your mouth to retort that there was always an emergency, he tuts and swats his wrapped hand onto your ass. his soft smile grows into a wolfish grin, “let me finish, doll.” he laughs lowly, sinking into the couch, combing his fingers through his matted hair as he makes himself comfy under you. you watched his ear-like tufts smoosh under his roving hands, only to stubbornly perk up once he finished. 

under the moonlight, he watched his hands seemingly waltz on the supple flesh of your body, similar to two mechs he had seen in the overworld.

his hands trailed up and down, admiring your dips and curves as he enjoyed the feel of you on the pads of his fingers. you always felt so soft in comparison to the scarred, rough skin on his body. every part of you was a delight to explore and he hummed appreciatively throughout his trek. wriothesley thought the moonlight on the surface tended to illuminate you best.

breaking the silence, your next words lacked bite and the man was never one to not take advantage of an opening. 

with goosebumps erupting on your skin, you shivered and muttered, “better hurry up before-“

“before what, hm?” he jumps in with a grin, suddenly tightening his grip on your body as he begins to press you onto his cock. you and the couch both whine at his ministrations. the seating was too rickety for shit like this and you felt the blunt tip of his cock harshly kiss against the deepest part of your core. 

“if you’d let me finish, i was going to say there was a genuine emergency.” he murmurs, his fingers doodling on the supple flesh on your body. “would you believe it if i said monsieur neuvillette was involved? ask him tomorrow if you don’t believe me.” the dark-haired man whispers, his hands traveling yet again to press against the small of your back. he nudges you close to him, your breasts pressing against his face. he chuckles at his new-found fortune before finally circling his tongue around one of your hardened nipples. 

with a hitched breath, you gingerly rake through his soft hair. “a-ah, i suppose if… he was involved, it must have been serious…” you shudder and respond absentmindedly, your anger and resolve beginning to melt at his touch. he hums and releases the nub with a quiet pop, resting his cheek against the flushed flesh of your skin. 

ah, you crumble fast.

his eyes wandered over to the small kitchen where his cold dinner was left on the table. all thanks to the issue down in the fortress. normally, he would come home once or twice a week. recently, it dwindled down to once a week and this time… he had left you home alone for exactly 12 nights straight. 

 “exactly. allow me to make it up to you.” he drawls lowly, his eyes flicking up at you for approval. when you give a slow nod, he suddenly roughly yanks you fully onto his cock, forcing you to grind your body against his. he pulled your body close, applying a sickly addictive pressure against your clit as his cock slides all of the way in. when he shoved your hips away, you’d whimper, wordlessly demanding to feel all of him again. wriothesley laughs when your keens morph into pleased, choked moans. biting his tongue, he’d hold back his own sounds when you’d clamp down on him or your pussy nearly drooled in his lap. 

you were still straddling the strong man’s lap, your back arching away from him to bare more of yourself to the duke.

“going to ruin my pants. hope you take responsibility.” wriothesley teases. within you, his heavy cock twitched at the warmth you graciously gifted him. from under you, you could feel him steady his legs, planting his feet into the cushions crumpled below. before you could respond, he nipped at your flesh, enjoying the surprised ‘ah!’ you bestowed to his ears. 

“i’ll — ah, fuck… ya feel perfect around me — make it up to you,” he grunts, his hips slamming upwards in sync with every word. you stumble forward, one hand resting on his chest and the other gripping his locks, hard. your head flies back and you cry out, and he shudders from the pleasured sting racing through him. from below, the man indulges in your teary glare before he continues his punishing rhythm to send both of you into bliss. each buck of his hips into your wet heat was sinful; the sound of his hips slapping against yours and the couch’s internal frame screeching echoed in his skull.

“s’good for me,” he coos, watching you struggle to steady yourself on his lap. his breath was no longer collected; quiet, stuttered grunts and heavy exhales filled the room each time his hips slapped against yours. shit, the sight of you struggling to take him in and the lewd wails spilling from your lips were divine. “takin’ me so well, sweetheart.”

once he notices you have found some balance against his fast pace, he urges you to sit up straight again, helping you up. wriothesley’s quiet orders of ‘up, up’ and praise about being his ‘good girl’ gave you just enough strength to obey.

he slows down just a notch as one of his hands slides to your lower tummy in hopes to draw languid circles on your neglected clit. on the way down, the duke’s eyes widened when he felt the slightest bulge of his cock, and he laughs in disbelief before thrusting back up into your quivering pussy with renewed vigor.

“shit, sweetheart, you’re so good f’me–“

when you wail at the overwhelming pleasure of the duke fucking you dumb, your body spasms and you pull away, leaning away from him. the man was no artist, but with the way your body seemed to shimmer from the perspiration as his rough fucking made all your gorgeous bits jiggle in response, you were picture perfect on his lap. 

but wriothesley was moreso stuck on something else. something activated in his brain when he felt his cock through you and all he wanted to feel was to feel that again.

his thumb made their small laps around your nub, messily smearing your juices. his other hand tightened its bruising grip on your waist and fuck, he had hope that was going to leave a mark.

“so good for me, my love.” he repeats with a pant, his eyes darting around, struggling to decide on what part of your body he wanted to sear into his mind to replay during lonely nights deep under the sea.

your breasts that shook with each of his harsh thrusts?

the expanse of your cute tummy and the way his cock seemed to absolutely ruin – no, wait – enhance that sight?

or maybe the way your thighs seemed to have gone slack, allowing him to effortlessly buck up into you like his own pretty fucktoy?

your pretty cunt wrapping around his hard cock was a sight to behold, especially when he could catch the faintest of your juice splattering every time his hips met yours. “w-wrio…!” you cry out in response, feeling his cock ruthlessly bully the spongy spot within you. the wolfish man seemed to have made his decision and his eyes drilled at the slick coating where you were joined. he also stared at the cute little bump on tummy, as that was something he needed to worship. if he wasn’t abusing your g-spot, the tip of his cock was kissing your cervix. that dull ache from the size of him had long expired and—

“‘m’sorry,” he grits out, “should’ve never left ya home for so long,” his hand hastily flies to your back to hug you close to his body, his thrusts long losing their refined rhythm. your soft chest squished against his firm one and god, that was just the cherry on top of the soon-to-be creampie.

his arms wrapped around your body, caging you against him to take every buck of his hips into your warm cunt.

with your cries and begs to “p-please, make me cum make me cum make me—”  so close to his ear, he was hurdling straight towards the edge all thanks to you. the quiet night on the countryside was absolutely tainted by the sin coming from this small cottage. now, he was frantically burying himself in you, chasing release that was not too far away. “s-shit, pussy this good d-deserves to be–!”

you muffle your increasing moans at the crook of his neck, but before he can demand you to moan louder for him, you sloppily attach your mouth to a sensitive scar, clamping your teeth down on the flesh and he whimpers and shudders under you.

he blinks hard to rid his sight of the fireworks speckling his vision and he laughs breathlessly, “tryin’ to mark me up, pretty girl? fuck.” his eyes were glassy with tears from the juxtaposing pleasure and pain clouding his brain.

he was babbling, reciprocating your cries with his own rough groans into your ear as his orgasm was quickly approaching, “gonna fill you up, never shoulda left you alone—“

…how can a man go back to jerking off in a dimly lit office at the bottom of the sea?

simple. he can’t.

he might just ask if you want to become a new resident of the fortress.

not as an inmate, of course.

actually… if you were an inmate, would he get to use the cuffs?

#kunikuma’s fics #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x reader smut #wriothesley x y/n #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x reader smut

[kunikuma]

bar crawl aftermath

relationship | college student!kunikuzushi x afab!fem!reader

synposis | back from a bar crawl, you tell your boyfriend about some dude trying to buy you a drink AND the fact you had to use ajax as your fake boyfriend. this is a kunikuzushi fic. you know he’s jealous. content | 🔞🔞 smut, but he’s surprisingly gentle for a jealous!kunk fic IMO cw | jealousy, mention of alcohol, bar dude being a creep but it’s quick, mention of overstim, calls you a slut and a good girl once a/n | not proud of this one bc half way thru i decided im gonna save the real filth for a diff fic, so he’s… surprisingly… gentle??? for a possessive scara ahah. subjective. mating press. is that gentle??? this is more…. idek. it was gonna die in drafts if i didnt post it SOOOZ.

masterlist

you weren’t drunk, but the way the room blurred as you moved would’ve convinced you otherwise. the lamp on your shared bedside lit the room up in a cozy warm glow. truthfully speaking, the room looked mighty nice and relaxing… perfect for a quick cuddle and conversation with kunikuzushi before bed.

that was the intention.

but once you started talking about tonight’s bar crawl to celebrate the end of the semester with your peers, the very bar crawl he was unable to attend with you, goosebumps erupted on his skin. when you started talking about a creep who kept insisting on buying you a drink, a guy who leaned really close to your low-cut top to read the cute, metal button pinned to your shirt’s breast to highlight bar crawl members, he grew silent. when you sheepishly sighed and explained you had to cling onto ajax for the rest of the night to get the fake ’I’m Taken’ message across, he ripped the sheets off of himself and had you right under his unconcealed jealous stare.

that’s how you found yourself pinned against your sheets, your back against your shitty spring mattress with your heart nearly leaping out of your chest at every lewd, wet slap into your core.

“h-holy s-shit, kuni—“

it felt like your head was absolutely spinning with the way your brain was getting battered against the insides of your skull at how hard he bottomed out against you.

“s-should’ve… been there,” he panted, lifting your legs and pressing your knees into the mattress.

shit, mating press? your eyes struggle to focus on his debauched face as you wail in response from how deep he was—

 “...should’ve been there to–” he stutters and cuts himself off with a loud moan when you clamp down at his words. you rake your nails onto his arms and he hisses, but he only frantically laughs and messily connects your lips together. moaning into his mouth as your teeth uncomfortably clash together, you nudge him away and he begrudgingly obeys, snapping the glistening thread of spit connecting your mouths. 

“k-kuni, slow down,” you gasp during the slight reprieve, feeling the burn at the backs of your thighs intensify the harder he jammed your knees into the bedding below you, “t-too much-”

you’d been going at this for a little over an hour and you already creamed around his fingers earlier in the night. when he heard you clung onto ajax, he hastily yanked you onto his lap as he propped himself against the bedframe. placing his legs over yours and pinning your back against his chest, he toyed with your nipples and sensitive bud between your thighs. his lithe legs locked yours, keeping you nice and spread as he whispered into your ear about how bad you were for clinging onto his best friend… edging you til you were crying on his lap. each time you were about to topple over the edge, he’d tsk and rip his hand away, laughing at your whines, only to rapidly tap his fingers against your swollen clit seconds later to feel you squirm against his aching cock. once you begged him to make you cum all over his hand, he gladly obliged, shoving his neatly manicured digits inside of you to frantically abuse your favorite spot he was well acquainted with.

at some point, he licks the shell of your ear and tsks at how filthy and selfish you were for getting off while he was still dealing with his hurt feelings and weeping cock.

“too much?” he groans, peppering your neck with kisses. you squeal when you feel him smirk and lick a languid stripe at the side of your neck.

“l-lying slut, you’ve taken so much more...” he snickers that breaks into a groan against the rapid pulse beating in your neck.

kunikuzushi needed to you beg him… to ruin you with his pretty hands.

currently, he pauses as he breathes, staring down at you, his pleasure-glazed eyes darting around to examine his work and your sweaty body.

divine is how he’d describe the way your body looked, thanks to the warm glow of the light illuminating every curve on your body. divinity was a wonderful way to describe the view because he’d love to be the one to wrench you down and defile your sanctity.

your neck had two marks; one on each side. ‘not enough,’ he dryly noted. below, he marred your chest with many, many more of his love bites. not-so-deep down, he wanted to forget that another man got that close to you… dared to get his filth onto your pretty skin. only he could be the one to sully you. kunikuzushi figured if he could litter your pretty skin with his bites and kisses, no other man would bat their dumb eyes in your direction when he wasn’t around. 

he grits his teeth at the reason why he couldn’t join you at the bar.

his oh-so-lovely mother needed him to come home for a few days to start discussing how the business would be transferred under his name when she retires or croaks. when he ignored her messages and emails (of all the things) to come home, she surprised him by showing up at his apartment. the apartment he rarely went to because your “shoddy living situation is much closer to campus”. he begrudgingly went to his place to greet her there to get everything over with. however, he didn’t think he’d need to leave for a few days. 

kunikuzushi shook his head and pushes his slick bangs back to rid himself of these useless thoughts before peering down at your disheveled state. the sight of you below him was exactly where you belonged; if you continued looking that wrecked, that perfect under him, he might just have to make a mess of your insides.

oh, who was he kidding?

that was always the plan.

at a twitch of your walls, his breath hitched in his throat before his hand moved to your chin. he hums as he delicately turns your tilted, teary gaze to face right at him, thumbing your bottom lip.

suddenly, he grips your chin as he grins down at you, “n-ngh, c’mon,” he cooes, ignoring the stutter in his breath. idly, he starts to slowly rock his hips back and forth, sliding his cock all the way in before pulling it all the way out.

…shit, the way your cunt squelched every time he drove his cock into your heat...

he leaned over your form, hovering inches away from your face with a shaky breath. looming over your spent body like this was bliss; he could feel himself quickly slamming against your deepest parts and you’d only cutely cry out and paw at his arms as your toes curled. the way your freed leg wrapped around his torso to hold him deep inside of you told him you were loving it all, despite your nails digging into his arms.

the young man bit back a whine when you started wiggling your hips to gain some friction. he squeezed his eyes shut so you couldn’t see the way his eyes nearly rolled back and how tight you were. you were blearily staring up at him as you regained some brain cells thanks to his unusually slow yet deep pace, holding back a snide comment about how uncharacteristically gentle he was being.

getting impatient and wanting your jealous boyfriend to rearrange your guts like he normally does, you squeezed your cunt around his cock and—

“h-hah, f-fuck, you’re so—!” he chokes out, digging his own nails into the plump meat of your thighs.

there we go. cracked his resolve.

tight. hot. perfect.

archons, your wet cunt clamped down every time he ruthlessly drove his hips against yours. while you might have thought he was extremely well-collected at this moment, his haughty mask was starting to slip right off of his sweat-slicken face.

all he wanted to really do is sink into your wet heat and sloppily thrust inside of you, blubbering as he paints your walls white. maybe he’d even allow himself to break completely, whining and rambling into the nook of your neck as he presses messy kisses on your body about how “f-fuckin’ good you make me feel” and how he wanted you to “p-please only ever look at m-me, i love you, i love you, i—“

but tonight, he wanted to remind you that you belonged to him, and him alone. oh, he was annoyed you only kindly rejected the drinks and didn’t outright deck the guy right where he taught you (groin or nose). he was livid you clung onto his annoying best friend, even if it was for your safety.

what can he say? he’s possessive.

but you knew that, didn’t you?

his eyes snap back to your body as he repeated his rhythm, watching your body twitch and respond to his every motion, “y-you were so bad today, so,” he murmurs as his pace falters again, trailing his fingers down your neck and between the valley of your breasts. he releases your other leg to flick at your sensitive buds, only to then roughly massage your breasts in his hands. the soft flesh in his hold melded against his digits perfectly and your muffled cries behind your hand on made him ascend higher past cloud nine. your high pitched keens were delicious.

your other leg joins the first one to wrap around him, pulling him in. he hums and chuckles breathlessly as your pussy flutters around his leaking cock, easing up on his rough treatment of your chest.

you snicker breathlessly as you rest your arm over your head, “i thought you’d be much rougher-“

finally, kunikuzushi scoffs as he yanks your legs from around him and resumes the burning press he had earlier. leaning over you once more, he shakes with silent laughter at your surprised and choked moan before whispering into your ear. he steels himself to utter his next words without a moan interrupting him.

“that so? be a good girl for me,” he grits out before cracking and releasing a shaky moan when you trail your nails down his back.

“—and take it.”

#wanderer #scaramouche #kunikuzushi #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader smut #scaramouche x reader smut #kunikuzushi x reader smut #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #wanderer x y/n #scaramouche x y/n #kunikuzushi x y/n #genshin impact x reader smut #kunikuma’s fics

[kunikuma]

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

3 types of kisses with wanderer, scaramouche, and kabukimono

relationship | all the scara's x gn!reader (separate)

content | hc? fic. fluff. cw | none a/n | mmm oh to kiss this man… granted im mad at him rn. you said scaramouche, but i’ll actually do my first attempt at kabukimono, scaramouche, and wanderer in one post because i love them all? all three make me soft and i basically translated my ramblings into this.

masterlist

kabukimono // forehead

kabukimono was so unfamiliar with the world and everything that revolved around it, and especially the affection that could be found in it. he was so used to the despair of the world, ranging from the stinging embarrassment when he’d take a joke too literally and the others would tease him, to the more agonizing ache that tore him away from a restful sleep by your side.

the very first time you pressed your soft lips against his forehead opened a new world of intimacy for the eccentrically dressed puppet. he had grown accustomed to laying near you at night, enjoying the natural heat your body seemed to give off. after bidding him goodnight, you couldn’t help but offer one of the purest forms of love when you gently pecked his forehead.

with sparkles in his eyes, he would sit up in your bed and flusteredly demanded you do it again.

and again.

and again.

kabukimono’s delicate hands released the crumpled sheets and pointed at his forehead as he requested each one. he'd find himself tapping his soft skin above his eyebrows when you pulled away.

the feeling of your lips on his porcelain skin was wonderful and warm. each kiss you planted was a millisecond longer than the last and he figured if he kept asking, you’d never pull away. when his wish was not granted, there was a light feeling infecting his head and his chest as he asked if he could return the favor. after all, the puppet desired you to feel the same sensation as well.

gingerly, he returned the favor, but it quickly got out of hand when his kisses gained fervor as your laughs increased in volume.

scaramouche // neck

kisses from scaramouche were infrequent, unfortunately. but the kisses that did occur were desperate, yearning, and hesitant. the balladeer wasn’t the type to just passionately kiss someone in front of the recruits; he never touched you in front of others the begin with. behind closed doors, he would permit you to kiss him, but not without him sneering and mocking you for being a poor thing who hopelessly needed his touch.

little did he know, he was talking about himself.

however, there were rare occasions when his mind strayed at night and clawed away at his sanity. sometimes he'd rest, where he would oblige you with his sleeping presence next to you, only to jolt awake in a panic. he’d steady his unnatural breathing and flutter away the dampness in his eyes, to then turn to your sleeping form. you were always blissfully unaware of his turmoil unless he woke you up of course.

during moments like these, he would find himself yanking you against his body, startling you awake. before you could groan and complain, you’d feel his cool lips shakily press themselves against the nape of your neck with a whisper to “shut up and go back to sleep”.

if you managed to obey after a few grumbles, the harbinger would nestle himself into the crook of your neck and hold onto you tightly.

perhaps the doll thought he could keep you from ever leaving his side if he held you like this.

the warmth of your body against his cold one, along with the steady rise and fall of your chest acted like a metronome; he’d match his breathing with yours and eventually allow the darkness to take over once again. before his eyes fully shut, he’d plant you one last kiss, albeit with less desperation and hesitation.

ask him about it the next morning and he’d feign ignorance, telling you that you were dreaming, as humans always had the privilege to do so.

wanderer // hands

kisses from wanderer managed to be sincere and passionate in a subtle way. from an outsider's perspective, he looked quite bored as he listened to you gush about your day at pupsa cafe in sumeru.

however, you could tell the attentiveness in his eyes spoke volumes about how much he cared about the words slipping past your lips. as you waited for your food, the wanderer held one of your hands in his, idly rubbing your knuckles and playing with your fingers. he'd pull them up to let them gently slap against his palm. your other hand was occupied as you used it to narrate your latest escapade with the traveler.

he’d hum and snicker at times as you divulged your story, doing all the right textbook things to wordlessly tell you he was paying attention. noticing his constant fiddling and massaging had bloomed a bit of a flushed hue on your hands, he ceased his play and lifted your hand near his face.

he’d gently brush his lips against each knuckle. after the fifth knuckle, he’d gingerly press his lips on the top of your hand before lowering it back onto the table. when your voice died in your throat at his blatant display of affection, he would peer up at you as his cheeks managed to feel warm. it was regrettably not due to sumeru's weather...

noting your silence, the wanderer would find himself scoffing as he asks if you had suddenly forgotten your story; you took it as a cue to scramble to the proper moment in your tale and resume speaking.

after a few minutes, he couldn’t help himself and found his own fingers messing with your digits again.

#wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #kabukimono x reader #wanderer x y/n #scaramouche x y/n #kabukimono x y/n #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi x y/n #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #wanderer #scaramouche #kunikuzushi #kabukimono #kunikuma’s fics

[kunikuma]

espresso? espresso.

relationship | barista!kunikuzushi x gn!reader (modern au)

synopsis | being a barista is not a cute as fiction made it out to be. it doesn't help that some customers... just... say the dumbest things... content | fluff, strangers to... mutual crushing cw | kunikuzushi is sassy/rude, food service + filterless scaramouche. a/n | im kinda back... wanted to write a coffee shop au that was a little more... real. this is based on the whole mispronunciation joke around “expresso” vs “espresso”. also, this started as a wriothesley tea thing, but he came out so sassy that i had to make it about scara. this one's a short one and mid. alt title: ‘expresso’ but i thought id get canceled

masterlist

kunikuzushi was a seasoned barista at a local cafe. ask him to recite a recipe for a complex concoction and the slender man may slur or murmur it for you in his sleep. you might even catch his fingers twitching as if he was busy making it in his dreams. that’s only if you caught him not clutching an old plush he kept from his childhood.

kunikuzushi was also painfully single. as a young man who decided to pursue higher education, he was buried in books and flashcards, frantically quizzing himself on information erected well before his birth on this god-forsaken planet. slaving away as a barista sounded terrible and admittedly, it is. however, the occasional free caffeine and the ability to study during downtime made it an attractive employment option. 

as a barista, he got to see all types of people. young, old, kind, rude… ugly, pretty. sometimes, he would people-watch and even make observations about intelligence. shallow? sure, but what else was there to do when he wasn’t wiping down the espresso machine or restocking the fridge?

guilty pleasure; let’s keep that a secret.

the young man didn’t think he’d ever have a relationship, let alone a crush on someone thanks to this job. after all, this was an aggravating job and he wasn’t here to find a lover. he was here to clock in, make some drinks, clock out, and get a paycheck. 

rinse and repeat.

…that’s what he surmised and believed over the year of employment til the day he spotted a customer recoil from the drink in their hands. kunikuzushi’s rubber gloved hand slowed its wiping so he could observe this customer slam the ceramic mug down and press their fingers to their lip as they hissed. the saucer underneath rattled at the impact; he watched their hand wave at their mouth as other customers peered over, only to return to their devices.

faintly, steam billowed from the mug and he rolled his eyes before resuming his regular cleaning pace. 

okay, so they were just an idiot with a burnt tongue.

typical.

as he restocked the fridge with various cartons of milk, he kept an eye on this customer. they never sipped again from the mug, but that was not his problem. it wasn’t a drink he made; ajax made it.

kunikuzushi didn’t make it, so if it was bad, it wasn’t a personal slight in his direction. 

it became his problem roughly two minutes later.

a hesitant voice rang out from the counter and he turned around and saw you. you fiddled with your wallet in your hand as your eyes darted from him to the chalkboard above his head.

“hi. i was thinking about ordering something colder because—“

“you burnt your tongue. i saw. how’d that happen? you knew it was a hot drink, right?” he interrupts and sneers, leaning a mop against the wall. the wooden broom slides from its spot and falls with a loud clatter. stepping over the broom, he strolls over to the cash register and laughs under his breath when he sees your embarrassed grin grow a tad bigger. 

weird customer. you didn’t shy away from his teasing.

distantly, he begrudgingly thought your smile was… nice. he also thought the irritated red burn on your lip was kinda funny. your clothes were pleasing as well. he wasn’t sure how to describe your style, but it suited you.

“ha-ha, yes, whatever…” you muttered, sarcasm lacing your faux laughter. you were fumbling with your things as you pulled out some cash. “i am looking for a cooler drink, but i wanted your recommendation. perhaps you could just choose for me…?”

kunikuzushi eyes you as he suddenly jams his finger on the screen. he hums before blowing a puff of air to flutter his bangs away. his light eyes narrowed in on your perplexed face. the barista’s voice was devoid of any inkling of classic customer service cheer.

not that he ever tried having much of that. flatly, he spoke.

“so, you want me–”

he jams a finger in his direction.

“to pick a drink for you. a random, yet mildly attractive yet majorly idiotic stranger i have never met before.”

without a beat, you confidently nod, “yeah, i'm the mildly attractive one, thank you. and yes! that is what i’m asking.”

the man’s face scrunches up as he reiterates, “i don’t know your tastes. i don’t know you.”

“im y/n! nice to meet youuuu…”

you peer at his name tag and his hand flies up to cover the plastic. you grin.

“…kunikuzushi!”

the barista grits his teeth as he shakes his head. he pinches the bridge of his nose as he sifts through the machine’s options, mumbling to himself as he occasionally glances at you. idly, you wondered if he was trying to figure out your tastes or just glare. finally, he breaks his silence with a grumble.

“...you looking for caffeine? i saw you’re studyin’.”

when you nod, delighted he is obliging in your request, he continues. “i’m thinking black tea for you.” 

idiotic customer aside, he did want to make you a drink you would enjoy. especially since you weren’t pleased with ajax’s brew. oddly, he wanted to make sure the drink you had was superior.

anyway, whenever a ‘surprise me!’ occasion occurs, which is luckily rare, he always defaults to tea.

you furrow your eyebrows as you scan the menu behind him. before he could grunt and remind you that he was picking, you blurted out a question that made his heart rate plummet and the hairs on his neck stand straight.

“not feeling tea. you got anything with expresso?”

he stares at your mouth and the atmosphere that almost recovered nearly shatters. the temperature of the room seemed to have dropped dramatically.

“okay. two problems with your response.”

he folds his slender arms across his chest and you cock your head to the side, clearly unaware of the sins you’ve committed.

did you say something weird? you just asked a question… you weren’t too well-versed in drinks beyond drip coffee.

was he mad that you waved off his suggestion…?

kunikuzushi’s hand that was tapping the screen seemingly migrated to the top of the charcoal-colored kiosk. his hand gripped the edge of it as he stared at you, his knuckles paling at the strength of his grip.

“cardinal sin number one. who doesn’t ‘feel tea’? tea is always good, especially if it’s from me.” he seethes, his voice taking on an offended tone as he uses air quotes to mock your words. before you could cut in and explain you did not know this man and how he expertly brews tea, he continues.

“cardinal sin number two. did you just say ‘expresso’? has no one ever told you it’s espresso? with an ‘s’?” he latches his hands onto his arms, impatiently drumming his fingers on his biceps, waiting for a response. man was seething inside.

you stare at him, absolutely dumbfounded and appalled that the quiet yet pretty barista at this cafe had just schooled you in the rudest way possible.

the barista sneered at the way your mouth seemed to hang open at his words and he smoothly transitioned into his next statement. “if not, today is your lucky day. i have just graciously informed you so that you never make that foolish mistake again.”

he muttered and thumps his fist on the cornered edge of the machine, absolutely confused on how you haven’t bern corrected by this point in your life.

“now, sit down at your table because i’m going to brew you some tea and you’re going to like it.” kunikuzushi pauses and jams in another item after a moment of contemplation.

“might as well pour you an espresso shot—“ he mocks you with a laugh, heavily emphasizing the first syllable of the word.

…you did end up liking the few samples he brought out to your table. he even slammed the espresso cup filled with the inky liquid and demanded you say it properly before you could give it a taste.

you smiled after most of them, commenting how they were nice. two were not up to your tastes and he’d scoff and snatch it away from you, scurrying behind the counter to enjoy it for himself. the barista made sure the last drink he served was one you liked. otherwise, you were doomed to end your experience with a soured expression on your face.

by the end of barista kunikuzushi’s shift, he found himself grumbling behind the counter as he debated on asking for your number. for him, it was simply too early, and he decided he would just save a note on his phone with the blends and drinks you enjoyed from his sampling session.

he handed you the bill at the end and you whined about how he tricked you into thinking it was all for free. he stuck his tongue out at you and called you stupid for even thinking that.

he’d argue the list on his phone was for the day you’d inevitably ask his coworkers to pick a drink for you while he wasn’t there. if that happened, they could pick from a curated list that he created.

#wanderer #scaramouche #kunikuzushi #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x y/n #scaramouche x y/n #kunikuzushi x y/n #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #kunikuma’s fics

[kunikuma]

another day

relationship | harbinger!scaramouche x afab!fem!reader

synopsis | you got caught red handled by the sixth. again. luckily, he’s so generous and only needs one thing from you. content | smut. literally 95% brainrot smut. cw | overst.im, degradation (says ‘dumb slut’, ‘whore’, ‘slutty’ once each), usage of "cunt" (is that a thing to warn??), yall ain't in love love; maybe weirdly obsessed with each other tho, kinda manhandling but bro is smol... so like. is he really handling you? a/n | wrote this on the train on the way home from work. i love "balladeer" as a taunt. it's so sex and FOR WHAT?? used it in my last fic too bye. btw i think im going to develop carpal tunnel syndrome. time to podcast scara smut.

masterlist

at the sight of your thrown-back head and garbled gasps for air, scaramouche’s eyes widen as a dribble of your sweat trickles down the curvature of your breast. the harbinger’s glare from below nearly crossed as he tried to focus on both the droplet and the distracting bounce of your tits in his face.

“w-where’s that cocky little attitude now, huh, balladeer?” you tried to pathetically seethe as you shakily slam your hips onto his own. unfortunately for you, your stuttered breaths as you roll your hips clue him in on your actual wrecked state. your rhythm had faltered, the ache settling in your knees as you came down from your most recent high. the man below you laughs as he slides his delicate hands from the sides of his head onto your legs, shoving himself deep inside of your core, kissing your cervix with the tip of his weeping cock. you hiss as your back snaps straight, cursing at him for his sudden rough treatment.

the midnight-haired man below you goads you, “do you hear yourself right now? h-how could you say that when you’ve been cumming on my cock over and over?” he bucks his hips in time with his last few words. the sixth flicks a thumb at your swollen nub and you whine, thrashing at his touch being ‘t-too mu-much!’

his delighted laughter chokes into a groan when you clamp deliciously on his cock at his overstimulation, and he could feel himself twitch inside of your wet heat. 

guess your slutty pussy actually liked it when it hurt a little, huh? 

this… ordeal... happens every time you are caught snooping through his fatui camps. like the little treasure hoarder whore that you are, you were caught yet again in the harbinger’s tent, sifting through his things. the first time you got caught, you woefully wept crocodile tears and asked if there was some way he’d let you go without lopping your head off. the second time you were caught, you bent over a little too readily when he entered the room.

it was like tradition at this point: once a month, you’d get caught and land in his room, and he’d unapologetically fuck your brains out and send you on your way with a waddle and a stuffed cunt.

definitely should’ve killed you by now, but your blabbering mouth being reduced to singing praises in his ear as he fills you up convinced him to let you off each time.

if he didn’t know better, he would’ve thought you were just coming back for seconds, thirds, and fourths at this point. but he did know better.

and he knew you weren’t as clumsy as you let on, especially since you helped out the traveler whenever you could. he knew you were dying to get caught and fucked by him—

gritting his teeth, scaramouche plants his feet on his bed and you huff, your head hanging down as you tearfully glare at him with wide eyes, knowing exactly what is coming next. his hands deliciously shift from your quivering thighs… up to your reddened hips… up your waist where he drums his digits into the flesh. you looked so cute with your dumb stare as you gazed at him, lost in his sudden tenderness.

shit, you were a sight for the sorest of eyes. only his eyes.

suddenly, one of his hands rakes further against your spine, harshingly yanking you against him and you nearly squeal when your chest collides against his firm one. before you could bitch at him, the man below you snickers before he bucks his hips up into your sopping cunt. 

his left hand darts to your head, gripping the base of your hair and he tugs. the harbinger’s grip tightens as you gasp out your surprised cries of pleasure right into his ear, wailing about how close you were to cumming on his cock again. his right hand releases its grip on your waist to frantically hug and pin your body against his, keeping your breasts pressed tightly against him. 

hearing your voice crack and sing a litany of praises about your pleasure, the harbinger’s watery eyes roll to the back of his skull as his nails leave deep crescents into your skin. your impossibly tight cunt and cries in his ears were driving him crazy. he presses his face against the side of yours to breathe you in, whining into your ear about how you “feel so f-fuckin’ good... h-hah, such a good, dumb slut taking my cock—”

yeah, he’d kill you another day.

#scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x reader smut #scaramouche smut #scaramouche #genshin impact #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader smut #kunikuzushi x reader smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #kunikuma’s fics

[kunikuma]

good boy

relationship | modern!kunikuzushi x afab!fem!reader

synopsis | as the title states! calling kuni your good boy content | short smut cw | praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie (wow i hated typing that), missionary, teensy masochism on his end, a/n | wrote this on my lunch break today because i KINDA felt bad that i wrote a sorta-hate fuck the last time. SORTA. also, my hands and wrists really hurt now so this is short...

masterlist

when you cry out your praises, the man above you seemingly stills and stares down at you, his mouth going slack at your words. his dark brows furrowed as the gears turned in his head, processing if he liked or despised the words slipping from your lips. strands of his hair stuck to his heated skin as he tentatively starts his thrusting again, the deep slaps filling the small, dimly lit room of your room. 

“a-again.” he demands, looming over your form as he stares down at you. his mouth hangs open, huffing as he resumes his pace. his dainty hands crinkle the fabric of your sheets under his hands.

“say that again.” kunikuzushi’s pretty, crystalline eyes seemed to have clouded over with lust and longing; the only things whirring through his mind were how good perfect it felt to bury himself in you, the way your words seem to itch his brain, and how—

you smile at him and cup his cheek as he increases the pacing of his rhythm, “good boy, kunikuzushi. d-doing so well for me.”

and the man whines, burrowing his head next to yours as he shoves and drills his cock over and over into your cunt. oh, he had completely lost his rhythm and was just frantically slamming the tip of his cock against your core. you continued to shakily coo and sing your praise into his ear, murmuring how he was doing so well for you and how good he was making you feel. your nails dug crescents into his pretty back and he hissed in pain, but the way his hand darts from your blankets to grip your shoulder convinced you he begrudgingly loved it. 

soon, you wrap your quivering legs around his torso to cage him close as you whisper words of utter adoration into his flushed ears, and he chokes out a stuttered sob before stuffing your cute little cunt full of his cum. 

such a good boy.

#kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi x y/n #wanderer x reader #wanderer x y/n #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader smut #kunikuzushi x reader smut #wanderer x reader smut #scaramouche smut #genshin impact smut #kunikuma’s fics

[kunikuma]

i’ll savor you

relationship | incubus!xiao x afab!reader

synopsis |  when impassive incubus xiao tightly gripped your wrist a few months ago and ordered you to just simply call his name if you were in need help, you didn’t think it applied to… other things content | very suggestive, marking as mdni / ns.fw smut to be safe since it starts off lewd! cw | reader’s got coochie a/n | affectionately, i see xiao as a reluctant incubus compared to lil shithead scara. xiao’s not too happy to indulge in humans and does it out of necessity.

incubus xiao and scara m.list

“let me help you.”

you stared right at the incubus hovering mere inches away from your face. crimson absolutely stained your cheeks as you were caught red-handed on your bed.

with your mouth agape with three fingers buried deep in your sopping cunt, you didn’t think your quiet, hesitant groan of the protective incubus’s name slipping from your lips would have summoned him into your room. yes! he is a sex demon, but shouldn’t he be busy out in the world, feeding off of some other lucky unlucky human?

“please get off. why are you here? this is so embarrassing, xiao!” you meekly asked, ranted, and groaned, fingers awkwardly flexing deep in your body. what do you do in this situation? rip your fingers out? keep them in and continue? apologize profusely even though this is your room?

the teal-haired demon clicks his tongue and only presses his nose into the crook of your neck to quietly groan at your scent. you whimper as you feel a little fang nip at your skin and the cool texture of his long horns brush against your skin.

he pulls back to scrutinize your exposed form. the incubus drags his narrowed, slitted, amber eyes down from your flushed face and down your parted, pouty lips. you don’t miss the way his pupils dilate when he examines the rise and fall of your chest. he gives your thighs a hardened stare. he huffs when he sees you clamp your legs onto your hand.

you especially don’t miss the way his black tail flits behind him, almost in agitation.

little did you know, the rapid twitches were due to his excitement slipping through his normally cold exterior.

you slowly and awkwardly slip your fingers out from your hole, curling them into a fist to hide the evidence from the otherworldly being in front of you. a grimace flashes across your face when you feel how slick your fingers were. “i don't understand why you seem… mad.” you mutter, reluctantly swiping your sodden fingers on your bedsheets. the space between the two of you became increasingly nonexistent.

xiao’s eyebrow twitches at that and he scoffs. his warm breath grazing your flushed cheeks.

“i’m mad that you’ve clearly needed me recently, yet you took this long to summon me.” he mutters, reeling back from your body to sit on his bottom, effectively trapping his excited tail under him. “i’ve been craving you for weeks and you only called me now-”

“craving me? you haven’t fed on someone else since we met?” you interrupted with disbelief, propping yourself up against your pillows. “you know you can feed on others. it’s in your nature. i can’t stop you,” you frown, trying to fiddle with the blanket to cover a bit of your body. xiao grips the fabric in silent retaliation and you give up on your attempt.

he offers a deep sigh to your query as he turns his head to the side, suddenly finding your clock much more enthralling. the amber-eyed demon nibbled his lower lip as he looks at you from the corner of his eye.

 “…it feels wrong.” he grits out. his was jawline clearly defined, tense with stress.

“wrong?”

“t-to feed from someone not you. i cannot explain it but,” he murmurs, beginning to crawl back onto your body, “i do not feel satiated when with humans other than yourself. trust me, i’ve tried and i cannot explain why this is happening.”

your sputters and reddening cheeks to his out-of-character and almost-love confession were dutifully ignored as he sighs; his hands made contact with your body. he smirks to himself when he could sense your heartbeat spiking.

xiao grasps your arms, sliding his hands up til they rest on your wrists. he abruptly presses your arms above your head. when you squirm in his firm hold, he presses his face back into the warmth of your neck. xiao releases a sigh of relief as he lowers more of his body onto yours. you grin with slight embarrassment when you feel a sharp nip at your neck. a breathless giggle slips from your lips as you feel his tail bump against your thigh. “with that being said…” he murmurs against your neck.

a slight tremor reverberates through the incubus’s body and you gasp when he presses on your wrists harder and a desperate groan rips from his throat.

“i am going to savor you.”

#xiao x reader #xiao x reader smut #xiao x y/n #xiao smut #genshin impact x reader #incubus!xiao #genshin impact au #xiao #kunikuma’s fics

[kunikuma]

hey, be more careful-- !

covering the edge of the table with his hand

relationship | gamer!kuni x gn!reader synopsis | Your boyfriend Kuni cares a lot about you, but words don’t come easily to him. Luckily, he shows his care through a different method. content | fluff cw | none a/n | i accidentally posted this mid edit and i yelled very loud. also the concept of covering the edges/corners of tables to prevent your s/o from bumpin’ their heads? sold, im so sold, give me a grumbly soft kuni.

“Oh, could you hand me the screwdriver again?”

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏

Your boyfriend sighs as he crawls over to you on the carpeted floor, rolling your desired tool near your thigh. “Why’d you hand it back to me if you were just going to ask for it again literally 3 minutes later?” He grunts, sliding back onto his chair behind you. 

Kunikuzushi had been keeping you company as you were upgrading your PC, idly spinning and swinging his feet. He wouldn’t say it, but he was craving your attention. Unfortunately, you were not able to give it at the moment.

“Well, it’s not like I’m trying to annoy you…” You trail off, barely paying attention as you tightened the screw to secure your GPU to the case. “…I just,” twist, twist, twist, “Hm… I just lost my train of thought.” You admitted with a laugh, humming under the desk. While he wasn’t getting much attention, Kuni had a great view of your kneeling position. And he knew how to serenely accept blessings.

‎‏‏‎ ‎Twist. Twist. Pause. Untwist.

‎ ‎He gave you an incredulous look.

“Are you seriously struggling to tighten a simple screw?” His jab fell on deaf ears as you pursed your lips.

“Righty tighty, lefty loosey.” He grumbles, blowing his bangs away from his eyes. Kunikuzushi was not really enjoying the lack of attention right now… with you so caught up with upgrading, he was forced to just watch. No one was forcing him though. “You’re so bad at this-”

“I’m not! I just overtightened a little. Lay off, bud. Stop backseat gaming.” You muttered, placing your hands on your knees to hoist yourself into a standing position. The sound of Kuni rising from his seat echoed behind you as he darts forward a little.

“Oof-” you gasped, your hand flying to the top of your head after you bumped your head on something… not as hard or as sharp as the end of your table. For a wooden table, that felt a little… squishy? …bony?

“...be more careful.” Your indigo-haired boyfriend murmurs, his hand gently resting on your head for a quick second before he settles back into his chair. When you turn, you notice he was rubbing the top of his right hand, as if giving it a small massage. A tiny bit of redness blooms on his right hand. He gives you a blank stare and you reciprocate with an owlish gaze.

“Was… was that your hand? Did I hit your hand?”

“…yeah?” He squints, the upward swing in his tone hinted at his bewilderment about why you were even confused.

You gasped dramatically, covering your mouth with your hand. “Kuni! That is so cute,” you immediately gush, watching him huff in his chair. He rolled his eyes as he rests his hands on his armrests. You politely refrain from commenting on his white-knuckled grip.

“It’s called being a good person-“

“Arguably, you are sometimes not one of those-“

“-and I sort of just… did it without really thinking about it.” He finishes, completely ignoring your insulting interjection. With stars in your eyes, you stared at him, your mouth agape. To the gamer in his chair, you looked like a fish out of water.

‘A mildly cute fish.’ He muses.

However, the tense silence between the two of you was getting to him as he wiggles in his seat. Your teasing stare edged him to elaborate even further. Eventually, his stubborn resolve crumbles. It was weakened when you were involved, anyways.

“I-I always put my hand on the edges of things if I think your clumsy ass is going to slam into it.” He grumbles, spinning his chair away from you.

Kunikuzushi absolutely did not need you to tease him about this. This was his little well-kept secret, at least until you actually bumped your head. He just wasn’t prepped for the conversation afterwards. The conversation that was happening right now.

You grinned as you stood from your spot on the floor, taking extra care this time to avoid bumping your head.

He felt your hands flop onto the shoulders of his chair and slowly slide onto his frame. Your head pops from the left side of him and he huffs and cranes his head to the right so you couldn’t see his flushed expression. His long bangs provided ample cover, preventing either of you from making eye contact.

You peck him on his cheek and the indigo-haired man hisses softly, languidly swatting at your hands but not pulling them off of him. Oh, this guy would never pull away from your touch. But to admit that would kill him.‎ ‎

“Thank you for always watching out for me, Kuni. That is very sweet of you.”

“Don’t mention it. Like actually don’t ever mention it again.”

From that day forward, you’d pay more attention to his delicate hand curling around the corners and edges of furniture. You’d never comment on it, but you’d flash him a coy, knowing grin and he’d bashfully roll his eyes in response.

#kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x y/n #wanderer x y/n #scaramouche x y/n #genshin impact x reader #gamer!kuni x reader #gamer!kuni #wanderer #scaramouche #kunikuzushi #kunikuma’s fics

[kunikuma]

babe, im toxic during comp games to everyone except  ✧you✧

relationship: gamer!kuni x gn!reader

synopsis: kuni’s just a little mad because childe sucks at competitive video games and he just needs a quick breather ♡ warnings: swearing, but it’s only in the beginning bc kuni is tilted af lmao, childe’s name name a/n: god i love gamer kuni. he’s just an all round lil shit, but is just a big softie for his special person. streamer kuni next? this could have been smut so fast omfg ///

update: i tried writing smut for streamer!kuni -> personal cheerleader

“How are you this fucking bad?”

“Holy fuck, he was STANDING RIGHT THERE-”

“Ajax, I mean this with every inch, ounce, and molecule in my body. You are god awful-”

Your boyfriend’s rage broke the silence in your shared apartment. Moments like these are frequent; when you were busy scrolling on your phone and snuggling on his cat themed bean bag near him and his PC, Kunikuzushi was frequently slamming his hand on the table and mashing his keyboard because Ajax died again-

“-actually good at this game. Unlike you, I don’t play characters in competitive I know I’m shit at-”

In the corner of your eye, you notice his hand slip from the table, fumbling in the air as if he was looking for something. His hand clumsily lands on your head and you blinked, tilting your head at him, wordlessly asking, ‘do you need something?’. Kunikuzushi doesn’t pay you mind, just ruffling your hair little too roughly for your liking.

You grumbled at the fact he was messing up your hair, but you continued to scroll anyways. He notes your sound of displeasure and lifts his hand off your head, but his hand continues to hover. The gremlin next to you in his chair with his cat ears headset finally turns his head to face you. He rests his chin on his palm as he gives a loud, exhale. He squints as he gives you a pointed look. His other hand travels to his head, running his hand through his bangs, ruffling up his own hair. Your boyfriend looks disheveled and a little pissed, but boy, he always looked cute. Especially when the cat ears are lit up blue-

“I thought you said Ajax was good at this game.” Kunikuzushi says plainly, his right brow quirked up. “I’m pretty sure my mom is better at this game...”

“Well, he looked like he was pulling his weight when he was showing off to me the other day.” You mutter, sitting up in the bean bag. The faux leather fabric makes the iconic fart-like noise and your boyfriend grimaces when everyone in his call starts howling, “yo, did Scara just rip hella ass-”. He quickly slams his finger on the ‘mute’ and ‘deafen’ keys.

He purses his lips and gives a small sigh, but his eyes soften at you. His hand mindlessly wanders back onto the top of your head. His shoulders slacken as the seconds pass, tension evaporating the longer his fingers dance and fiddle with your hair.

“Don’t you want to play?” You ask softly, your eyes drifting to the profile pictures of his friends sitting in the game’s lobby. You lean into his touch a little more. Normally, you’re also seated a few feet away from Kunikuzushi, playing whatever game had your attention for the night. But tonight, you felt like just chilling by his side. “…or are you getting too tilted for tonight?” You ask with a small grin.

He hums, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Oh, I’m absolutely seething right now. I just need a breather, so let me have my moment with you.” He pauses and gives you a haughty look. “So, oblige me.”

You crinkle your nose. Some hair fell on your face from his stress relieving tousling, but he quickly moves it away from your face. “Honestly, Kuni? You’re so toxic while you play.” You laugh and gaze at him. “I’ve honestly never seen you like that. It’s kinda funny, but I’m glad you don’t talk to me like that when we play together.”

He smirks a little and presses back into his seat, clasping his hands together, finally ending his head scratches and petting. “Well, I’m definitely not the nicest person, but I don’t want to rude to you. You’re special.” Before you could awe at his cute words, he immediately ruins the moment. “You’re not as good as me, but you’re miles better than Ajax,” he explains as a mischievous glint sparkles in his eye, “…so, I hide my toxicity from you and let it out on him.”

You roll yours eyes and sink back into the bean bag, but the corners of your mouth curl up anyways. ‘Little shit’, you thought to yourself.

He pouts a little when he notices you’re out of reach, but he takes that as a sign to end his break. Kuni straightens up in his seat and lets out a quiet huff, unmuting and undeafening his audio. Immediately, the muffled sounds of all of your mutual friends echo through his headset and Kuni audibly groans and tells everyone to shut up and start the queue. The light atmosphere the two of you built instantly dissipated, but that had little affect on the small smile on your face and Kuni’s temporarily relaxed posture.

Kuni tilts his head down at you once last time as the loading screen popped up. Once your eyes meet, he quickly waves “hi” and mouths an “I love you” .

i know for sure kuni has been chat banned in like all games... my lil terms of service disobeyer uwu. i wrote this after getting tilted. god i couldve written smut. smut done ope ©kunikuma

#wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact au #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact x reader #gamer!kuni #gamer!kuni x reader #wanderer #scaramouche #kunikuzushi #kunikuma’s fics

[kunikuma]

returning customer

relationship | incubus!scara x afab!fem!reader

synopsis | after a bad day at work, you were just gonna bust a phat one and head to bed. a passing, indigo-haired incubus had other ideas. content | smut cw | mdni!!! da.cryphilia, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, usage of sweetheart and slut, scara’s sharp nails gripped ur wrists too tight oops and now you have lil wounds, overstim, begging, blood...tasting?? a/n | consider this how y/n and incubus!scara meet. im practicing writing smut. and scara wont leave my mind 😔 btw for this, i envision y/n being very “fuck it, might as well get my shit rocked” after a shit day bc yeah me too 

incubus! scara and xiao m.list

nothing was going right today. you were late to work because of a train, you spilled your extremely overpriced coffee all over your laptop, and your performance review for the quarter was not where it should’ve been. you knew, deep in your soul, you needed to relieve some stress this evening. 

however, you did not think it would involve a very attractive and annoying demon rearranging your guts.

“hmm? why the pouty look? i could smell how wet and frustrated you were down the hall…”

the midnight-haired incubus was happily pressed firmly against your ass, clutching the hair at the back of your skull as he melded the side of your face into your nice pillow. drool was slipping out of your parted lips as he continued to assault the spongy spot deep within you. the way he rolled his hips was perfect and you would’ve hated to admit that. the unnamed demon behind you was just on his way out of another person’s home in your apartment complex as he had just finished… feeding. but he couldn’t help but smell such a strong, lewd, frustration in the air as he passed your door. 

he was not above accepting dessert.

“s-shut the fu—!” you suddenly whined when he reeled back, only to bottom out to silence you, pressing his other hand harshly onto your shoulder, as if challenging you to finish your bark. his sharp black nails that were pressing into your shoulder were definitely going to leave some marks. “i-i didn’t ask for a disgusting demon to—”

when he draws his hips back, he slowed his pace this time, only slowly rocking back and forth as he scoffed, “disgusting demon? so you do have some fight in you. how cute.” 

he traced a pointed black nail down your spine and you shivered, unsure if you liked the sensation or not. you could hear the incubus behind you hum to himself as he trailed his finger further, staring at the reddening of your skin as he traveled south. your skin was so smooth and he couldn’t help himself to create some art on the canvas before him. with the way your lamps’ warm lights lit up your skin, he'd go as far as saying you looked divine.

all the better to ruin.

his amethyst eyes narrowed with glee when he saw where the two of you were filthily connected. he especially noted how much you were dripping down your thighs. 

“let’s get this straight,” he starts, a low rumble erupting from his chest, “i could kill you right now if i really wanted to,” he trails off, finally resting his hand delicately on squishiest part of your ass. he gave it a firm squeeze and snickered when he felt your pussy obscenely twitch on his dick.

you feel his blunt hair brush against your ear as he leans over your body to whisper in a sultry tone, “but… usually my food never bites back.” 

you cringe when you felt something wet against your cheek. his tongue flicked at the pleasured tear that escaped your lashes and he sighs dreamily at the taste of your pleasure. before you could protest, he darts back, his head thrown back with a giggle, “you’ll be so fun to break! to fuck you dumb on my cock-”

you roll your eyes and grit your teeth, slamming your body back against his hips, “a-are you gonna fuck me or continue monologuing? it’s very not sexy.”

before he could give a snarky reply, you press on, craning your head as far as you could to revel in his irritation. you were really just testing your fate today, “in fact, you’re a shitty incubus. so much talk, not enough fuckin’-”

with a snarl, he slams his cock deep back into your body and you mewl. you feel one of his hands return to the base of your skull as his latches on your hair and tugs your body up, pressing your sweaty bodies together. fuck, even the rest of his body felt pleasant to the touch—

“don’t tell me how to fuck. i like to have fun with my food, sweetheart,” he growls, pistoning his hips, slamming the head of his cock against your cervix. a crazed grin erupts on his face when he hears you whine and gasp at his harsh treatment; he feels you try to angle your hips to get him to fuck you just how you need him and he tuts with disapproval. the hand that roughly grabbed your hair a second before shifts to paw at your right breast, giving it a massage in his hand. you let out a guttural moan in response when you feel him pinch and tug at your pebbled nipple, your eyes starting to blur with the tears threatening to fall.

“-so go-od, ngh!” you whimper, his deep, plunging thrusts breaking up your voice into stuttered moans.

“oh? now i’m doing well?” he laughs, releasing your breast and moving down to your hip. his hand eventually reaches a few centimeters above your clit, drumming on your skin. the demon nips at your ear with his sharpened fang, “i can make you feel so much better if you just beg for it.”

your head lolls backward to languidly glare at him. as he continues his decent pace, your eyes steadily glaze over. you mutter out yes, yes yes-

“c’mon, need to hear you beg for me, sweetheart,” he croons, slowing his pace again, “use my name. say scaramouche,” he coos, loving the fucked out face you were making. you whine in frustration, blinking away tears. his eyes dart to the crystalline sparkles and he licks his lips. from the corner of your eye, you see his mouth moving, clearly speaking to you, but the increased ringing in your head drowned out any sound.

suddenly, he slams his hips hard against you, his cockhead kissing your cervix. the loud sound of his hips slamming against your ass knocked you back into orbit as you cry out. his cackled laughter brings you back—

“h-hah, nevermind! i can see i fucked you dumb already!” he says with glee, increasing his pace. “let me reward you.”

with your breasts freely jiggling from his pace, he grabs both of your wrists to prop you up. your knees were still sorely planted firmly on the bed as he held your arms back for leverage. if you were all there in the head, you would’ve cracked a joke about how pornographic this all was. and you would’ve complained about this awkward version of doggy style—

the sound of his rough pace and your drenched core caused the filthiest of noises. but you could finally hear inklings of his own unsteady breathing, smothered by your own loud cries. god, he looked beautiful but his sounds? 

addicting. 

you strained to hear more of him.

suddenly, you felt pressure right on your clit and you clenched hard on his cock.

“w-what is that?” you gasp, shivering as you felt something firm rub against your swollen nub. he already had his hands wrapped around your wrists... whatever it was, it traveled in small circular motions, shifting from messy orbits on your swollen nub to firm flicks and you whimpered. fuck, you were getting so close—

a stuttered laugh erupted from behind you, “my tail, sweetheart. it’s not just for show.” he groans, his usual smug tone slipping, hinting at how absolutely fuckin’ wrecked the demon felt from the way your pussy gripped him. he grits his teeth as he felt your walls clamp so tightly on his cock the more he massaged your clit with his tail’s rounded tip. 

he would never admit this, but you were the most interesting feast he’s ever had the pleasure to devour. the way your tears glistened as you cried out every time his cock bullied his way deep inside was to die for. but the way you fought back earlier back made something twitch deep in his chest. 

but that’s something to think about later.

you let out a garbled moan as your thighs attempted to slam shut, “scara— i’m gon’ c-cum—!” you wailed, and scaramouche only laughed with glee as he fucked you closer and closer off the edge. the way you cried out the shortened form of his name made his cock swell. his hips roughly slammed against your ass as he tightened his grip on your wrists, not caring about your whines of protest as his nails pierced through your skin. he panted wildly as he continued his assault on your pussy, chasing his own release. all he could see in front of him was your arched back, the creamy ring clinging around his cock—

a slurred plea caught his attention.

“r-repeat that,” he demanded, slowing down to give you a few brain cells back.

“-fill me… c-cum in me. puh-leasee-”

with a final, almost haunting laugh, he hangs his head low and wildly thrusts, finally angling his hips to bully your g-spot. the squelches from your hole and cries of pleasure clouded his head like a drug, “m-my, my! what a little slut i’ve found myself,” he nearly whined at you, losing himself a little as his teasing tone cracked even further. hell, he truly was losing himself in you. you felt that fuckin’ good wrapped around his cock. the grazed grin on his face never faltered.

the next few seconds were like a blur to you. the skyrocketing pleasure from his cock bullying your sweet cunt and the perfectly repeated flicks from his tail on your clit sent you straight to your orgasm. white flashed before your eyes and you cried out, your hands flexing open and closed, desperately looking for something to ground you as you felt blood rush to your ears. your juices dripped from your sopping cunt, splashing onto his thighs and soiling the sheets. he moans at the feeling and then hisses as you thrash in his hold from the overstimulation.

“y-yes, fuckin’ cum on my cock—!” he gasps, burrowing his cock home for a final time, finally filling you deep inside like you begged. he groaned loudly as he shuddered, feeling his cum coat your soaked core’s walls. he drops your arms and you collapse forward, flopping onto your drool-stained pillows. as he pants, his body slowly sags forward, caging you under him. he presses his forehead against your upper back, his tail rested limply on his bed, twitching every so often. his bangs stuck to his forehead. whenever he breathed in, he could smell the evidence of your shared sin settling deep into your room and he felt a burst of pride erupt in his chest.

eventually, scaramouche straights out as he slides out of your cunt, grinning when he sees his hot essence leak out of you. he gathers your combined fluids on a finger and examines it closely. when he darts his eyes at your fucked-out form, he snorts when he sees you unconscious and twitching, but still breathing. he gives your butt a lil pat as he idly notes the little wounds he inflicted on your wrists. 

scaramouche licks his soiled fingers clean from cum and your blood and hums to no one but himself. 

“mm, dessert was pretty good today.” 

as he hops off of your messy bed, he stretches with a contented and refreshed sigh, his black tail happily flicking around.

when you woke up the next morning feeling sore and disgusting, but oddly mentally refreshed, you found bandaids shittily adhered to your wrists and an oddly well-penned note on your nightstand.

‘consider me a returning customer - scaramouche ♡’

#incubus!scara #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader smut #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer #scaramouche #kunikuzushi #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #scaramouche smut #wanderer smut #wanderer x reader smut #kunikuma’s fics

[kunikuma]

bare minimum

relationship | bff!wriothesley x gn!reader

synopsis | as your best friend who was quietly in love with you, wriothesley had opinions about your ex partner. he wasn't the type of man to openly berate your romances, but he did want you to understand you could do better (with him). content | fluff, quiet wriothesley pining cw | none, a/n | the tone of this is so… serious?? weird. i hc him as a great conversationalist. always probing for more details, always making you feel heard. short one, considering a kunikuma fic. im dusting the rust off of my hands and brain.

masterlist

the duke of the fortress deep under the sea always listened to a specific guest with a coiled fist fused against the fat of his cheek. a curled smile and deepening dimple would grace his visage during this gesture. his other hand would occupy itself by bouncing a pen against the wooden table.

tap. tap. tap.

if he was occupied with drab documents, he would continue scribbling signatures across the sheets of paper; however, the duke would certainly hum or click his tongue in response to the emphatic words slipping from your lips. if the papers in front of him required more of his brain power, the warden would turn down the melody whistling from the gramophone so he could focus on your trill better. 

once, you had come down and danced through his foyer and up his steps, calling out to him about a cute dog that joined you during a picnic. when your words had died down after expelling the details of your tale, he would watched your rapid, excited breathing steady before he probed you for more details.

tap. tap. tap.

‘would you have taken it home?’

‘of course you would. what would you name the little guy?’

‘funny name. what color did you say its coat was?’

‘oh, i'd love a dog like that. you should bring it down so we can meet.’

‘what did you eat during your picnic? i hope you shared with your furry guest. or brought me some leftovers.’

he’d always return your energy in his own charming way, prodding you for more details.

today, you were nestled in the plush seat across his mahogany desk as you curled your digits around a warm cup of tea.

steam from the cup wafted from the delicate porcelain and you blew the floral haze away. your eyes fluttered at the heat rising into the air and he watched the way the sunlight shot through the seaglass to illuminate your flittering lashes.

your fingers drummed against the sides of the cup and he idly watched. his own teacup sat near his work, cooling as the seconds passed.

“okay, i knooow you don’t care, but i gotta tell you about my lil rendezvous with monsieur neuvillette!”

you’d preface most of your stories with the same words, but god you had no idea how wrong you were.

you assumed the tall man hunched over his desk didn’t care about the inane tales you rambled about. 

your introductory words only served as an mechanism to nip the conversation early. if he didn’t care, you graciously bestowed the opportunity to tell you that yes, he did not care about your words.

yet, he never once invoked a feeling of hesitancy before your mouth opened. when seated in this dreary room with the handsome man known as your best friend, comfort was the only thing you knew.

you always provided a way for him to cut you off. yet he never did, and he called you out on it today.

“i find it odd that you say that to start conversations,” he chuckles, watching you cock your head in mild confusion. “what makes you think i don’t care? what gives you that idea?” wriothesley finishes curiously, capping his pen and gingerly placing it on the surface. 

your curious smile had morphed into a purse of your lips as you mulled over your next words.

at your silence, the man teasingly replicates the tone of your voice with a grin. wriothesley hums as he raises his hands; his index and middle fingers bouncing into air quotes, “the ‘i knooow you don’t care, but–’ statement.”

your mouth parts into a teensy ‘o’ as you nod thoughtfully, “well, i’m used to saying that because my previous partner didn’t give me the same energy as you do. like, sometimes they didn’t seem too interested in my stories. so, i’m giving you an out if you’re not interested.”

a perturbed, low rumble erupts from wriothesley’s chest at your explanation.

“…interesting.”

your best friend’s hand falters as he rubs the stubble on his quiet grimace. the hairs catch on the fabric of his wraps, and he makes a note to freshen up.

“i’d hate for you to feel like you were stuck in a conversation with me.” you add with a bashful laugh, mindlessly thumbing the handle of your teacup.

he clears his throat in response to avoid alluding to too much. he had an inkling that’s how you felt, but he found your too-easy response off-putting and almost aggravating. 

at the conclusion of your relation, you ran to the fortress to cry on his shoulder about how little your old partner listened.

you sounded so casual as you smothered how depressing your rationale sounded. 

the duke never liked your old partner, but that was a clandestine topic only he and the iudex knew. he firmly believed he had no place to outwardly express those inner thoughts to you.

besides, your ex wasn’t awful.

just… subpar.

thus, rather than sharing his opinion with explicit words, he decided to show you how a proper partner should treat you.

truthfully, he believed he was just doing the bare minimum.

“huh. well, that truly was their loss,” he starts smoothly with a controlled exhale.

taptaptap.

after another beat, he reaches for his drink from the table as he presses the cool porcelain against his lips to hide a smile.

“you’re quite my little storyteller, and i’d say i’m quite the good listener. you deserve a real partner who listens.”

with the cooling teacup pressed against his lips, it was easy to restrain himself from mumbling additional words he might regret.

heat bloomed in your chest at the unsaid implications of his words. 

his simple words felt warm in your chest. 

so much warmer than the way your partner would respond when they (un)knowingly shut down your joy with their disinterested responses.

while his words were warm, confusion also tugged at your chest. wriothesley was right about being a good listener. he was probably your best person to talk to.

but why did he have to say it?

and why did he say it like that?

you could almost hear him explain his belief about how ‘love should be warm’.

you could almost feel the rough pads of his fingers wipe the rolling tears off of your face when you last wept on his shoulder.

you could almost feel the hesitant hug he gave in return after you wrapped your shaky arms around him.

before you, the duke calmly gathers his papers and tidies the pile with a loud crinkle. while his actions were slow and methodical, his hands shook as a result of his zealous attempt of sprinkling seeds in your head.

wriothesley folds his arms over his chest as he settles into his worn-down throne. 

it was time for a quick break anyway. 

he eyed the way you nervously scratched at the painted flower on his teacup, deep in thought. he watched the pretty gears in your head turn and crank as you mulled over his words.

he chuckles, thinking that he gave you plenty to think about late at night.

“alright, alright. back to business, huh? please proceed and tell me all about your tea party with our favorite monsieur neuvillette.” 

his lips finally curl at the way your inner turmoil seemed to dissipate, or at least pause, at his words. your fingers relaxed around the curve of the porcelain as life flushed your face once more. before you could continue, he chimes in with a little more.

“ah! and no skimping out on the details —especially about the new tea blend.”

#kunikuma’s fics #wriothesley #genshin impact #genshin impact reader insert #wriothesley x y/n #wriothesley x reader #genshin impact x reader

[kunikuma]

preppin’ kuni for the 24 hour stream ♡

"does my eyeliner look even?”

relationship | streamer!kuni x gn!reader synopsis | right before the big 24 hour stream that kuni was going to do because he lost a bet with his chat, he needed some help fixing his iconic red liner.  content | fluff! cw | plenty of kuni swearing (i can’t NOT make him swear) a/n | Definitely going to have a part 2, but not sure if I want to write out the stream portion! def the post stream. part 1!

“You ready for this?” 

You were propped up against the oak doorframe, idly watching your boyfriend touch up his famous red eyeliner. His agape mouth slowly shuts as his focused stare shifts from his lower lashes to your reflection in the mirror. He caps his liquid eyeliner. He stares hard into the chrome mirror, making eye contact with your entertained stare.

“Absolutely the fuck not.”

You snort, pushing yourself off of the doorframe, and waltzed into the cramped bathroom. The counter was covered with various products, ranging from his multi-step skincare to his myriad of black eyeliners. He grimaces when he notices you hopping up on the bathroom counter, making yourself comfy next to him. One of his eyeshadow brushes rolls into the sink. Kuni mutters under his breath as he shoves some of his makeup away from your legs to the otherside of the sink. “I’m not nervous,” he starts, his hardened stare moving from his half-done makeup to your nosy gaze, “I just really fuckin’ regret agreeing to this. I don’t know why I agreed to such a ridiculous idea-“

You smiled and clutched his hands as he rambled, the ones fiddling with the cylindrical tube of red eyeliner. He said he wasn’t nervous, but the fidgeting spoke otherwise. “To be fair, you lost a bet.” He rolls his eyes at this but doesn’t bite back with anything. You weren't wrong, unfortunately. “You’ll do great. I’ll stay up as long as I can, but I’ll take nap here and there.” He glares at this and huffs, ripping his hands away from your hold as he fumbles with the cap to finish the other eye.

“Some lover you are.” He grumbles, pressing the red-felt tip against his lower lashes. “You’re supposed to be my manager. Why did you actually approve this? This is terrible for my health.” His complaints simmers down to a focused silence as he drags the liner on his skin. The felt tip presses into his outer corner as he slowly makes multiple swipes down, ending almost below the start of his gray-blue eyes. You watch silently, mentally noting how the pigment looked thinner than the other side. Kuni quickly steps back from the mirror, leaning back to scrutinize his work. His eyes darted from the left and right eye, but he eventually huffs and turns to you, watching your legs idly swing back and forth under the counter. 

His impatient stare and folded arms broke through the silence in the bathroom. “Does it look even?” He prompts, opening his eyes wide, giving you a sign to lean in close to give your thoughts. “I think the left side is a little thin.” He adds helpfully, tapping the tube on his left cheek. He puffs his cheeks, almost giving a pouting look as he waits for your opinion. After one second of silence, he holds out the liner to you, silently prompting you to take it and fix his work. 

You hum, grabbing the liner from his hands as you pull him close. You cradle his right cheek in your hand to steady yourself and Kuni’s breath hitches and he stops breathing when you lean closer to get a better look.

“Left side is a little thin…” you murmur, languidly uncapping the pen with one hand. The plastic cap pops off and soars through the air, clattering nosily on the floor. 

“H-how could I trust you to fix my eyeliner if you’re this clumsy?” Kuni tries to tease, but his stutter gave away how insincere his jab really was. He’d rather die than admit watching your fingers nimbly pop the cap off was a little hot.

You pay him no mind as your tongue peeks out from between your lips, your eyebrows furrowed in concentration. With his neck craned back, Kuni stares at your focused gaze, a sprinkle of red beginning to dust the tips of his ears and the peaks of his cheeks as he realizes how close you were to his face. Cotton seems to be growing into his ears; in the distance, he hears your scolds to ‘keep still! I don’t want to mess up your pretty face-’

The sound of his heartbeat was pounding in his eardrums. The rhythmic ghosting of your breath on his face had his eyes fluttering. A complaint erupted from your lips as you annoyingly reminded him to keep still, god you’re so twitchy-

“…pretty….”

Quiet praise slips from his lips out and his eyes immediately widen as he rips himself from your grasp as if your hand’s temperature suddenly skyrocketed and seared his skin. You yelped as your eyes dart to his face, checking to see if his sudden movements made any unsightly marks on his face. If the heat from your hand was real and scalding, it would be a great excuse for the red hue staining his cheeks and ears. Unfortunately, the heat from your hand was just a pleasant warmth that now faded. The heat from your hand might have left, but the burning embarrassment kept his face nice and toasty. 

Kuni turns to the big mirror in the bathroom, “I cannot believe I just fuckin’ let that slip.” He utters with disbelief, eyes racing to yours through the reflection, checking to see if you were going to laugh at his expense. 

Kuni’s fingers gripped the edge of the counter, his knuckles bouncing between pink and a white hue as his grip slackened and tensed. He notes your startled look simmer into bemused contentment. You were way too patient with him, he realized. He eyes the firm grasp you have on the liner and he goes in to snatch it from your hold to finish the job himself. You see the tension slowly accumulate in his jaw when you jerk the tube away high into the air out of his reach. With a quiet growl of irritation, he steps closer to nab it from your outstretched hands, but your sudden hold on his shoulder makes him pause.

“Give it back. I can fix it myself.” He grits out, a combined fluster and irritation etched on his face. ‘So fuckin’ embarrassing…’

Your soft call of his name shakes him from his thoughts.

“…c’mere,” you murmur softly, your hand trailing up from his shoulder, up his neck, and back onto his cheek and his voice dies in the back of his throat, his mouth slightly agape. The tube that was held high in the air away from him slowly sank down to resume its task. A tiny, almost inaudible, embarrassing squeak is all that manages to be articulated when you thumb his cheek.

Your soft hand cradles his face for stability as you finally press the felt tip against his lower lash line. His breath hitches as he stares at you once again, noting how the yellow light from the bathroom seemed to give you a divine glow, rightfully crowning you with a halo. It takes all his willpower to conceal his flustered shaking. The cool drag of the liner was soon forgotten when he zoned in on the returning softness and warmth of your hand. Your tongue peeks out again as you hum in concentration, steadying yourself as you thickened the line of red pigment, occasionally referencing the other side for symmetry. In your hold, you can feel the tension in his body dissipate as he relaxes bit by bit. The wrinkles between his eyebrows eventually smooth out as his face unknowingly and cutely droops into your hand. He gently rests one of his shaky hands on your thighs and gently squeezes.

“Don’t mess me up.” He mutters. Internally, he grimaces when he thinks about how astronomically down bad he is for you. ‘…actin’ like a tamed, feral cat…’

You lean back and squint, double-checking your work. “I think you’re good to go- Oh! You’ve got some eyeshadow on your lashes. Close your eyes so I can blow it off.”

Your dark-haired boyfriend quirks an eyebrow, but obeys, closing his eyes and waiting for the burst of air. You take a quick moment to admire the relaxed look gracing his features. He definitely looks very pretty when he wasn’t scowling. 

Instead of feeling a sudden puff of air, he feels your lips press onto his and his eyes snap open in surprise. He doesn’t pull away though. He’d never pull away. The shocked streamer just stands there as you pull away with a cheeky grin. He half-heartedly rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time in the small bathroom as he finally pulls away.

“...you need Chapstick,” he grumbles, bending down to pick up the cap. “D-dry-ass havin’ lips.” He bites further as he passes the cap to you. You laugh and pout, your grumble about him being a liar and ‘I use plenty of Chapstick!’ falling deaf to his ears. The quiet ‘click’ of the cap echos in the room.

“But thank you for the help.” He finishes, staring at himself in the mirror. “It looks good.” Kuni nods at himself in approval when he sees how well you fixed his look. Internally, he decides he’d ask you to do his red eyeliner from now on. He does some finishing touches on his own.

Eventually, he slaps his hands on his cheeks three times and huffs, “okay, I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.” He hypes himself up in the mirror and then quickly turns to you. He gingerly grabs your hand, trying to gently help you off the counter, and drags you into the stream room. After the two of you run through the stream schedule for the next 24 hours, Kuni slips on his headset and settles into his chair. As you settle down next to him in your own chair, he fiddles with his stream settings one last time.

“Ready for this?” You ask, clasping his hand that was resting on the table. You fiddle with the black rings on his fingers.

His shoulders nearly fly to his ears as an overdramatic shrug, shifting his hand to tangle his fingers with yours. He quickly leans over to peck your cheek and flops back into his chair with a sigh.

‎‏‏‎ ‎

‏‏‎ ‎

“Let’s get this shit over with so we can cuddle.”

#can you tell i like showing affection through hands #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche x reader smut #genshin impact x reader #streamer!kuni x reader #genshin impact au #wanderer x y/n #scaramouche x y/n #kunikuzushi x y/n #wanderer #scaramouche #kunikuzushi #kunikuma’s fics

[kunikuma]

im so sane abt hurt/comfort pls help me out of my misery .

harbinger scaramouche with an also harbinger (fem)s/o and she went through a lot of fight training since her childhood and so she has a lot of scars all over her body. and when she's like changing in front of him he notices them and asks about the scars🥀

scars

relationship | harbinger!scaramouche x fem!reader

content | fluff, hurt w/ comfort (la signora projecting onto you, scaramouche + awkward comfort) cw | scars, mentions of a rough childhood on the streets, suggestive at times but nothing lewd, being self-conscious about your body :( a/n | this rq caught my attention because I've got plenty of scars on my body haha. awkwardly-in-love scaramouche who's trying his best to comfort you was cute. hope i did this justice!

masterlist

growing up in the alleyways and streets of fontaine gifted you one too many marks on your visage. fending for yourself at such a young age had taught you everything you needed to know about protecting yourself, your things, and your dreams… and taught you to be cold and ruthless at times. no one else would have your back out there.

many years ago, when one of the harbingers found and cornered you in the alley, you acted like a feral cat; hissing and clawing at the gloved hand that shot out and grasped at your neck. one of his blades glimmered in the partially lit corridor, pressing into your skin hard enough to silence you but not enough to kill. 

you later learned him to be dottore, the harbinger that was absolutely not all there in the head.

at the time, he was mildly amused by your drive to continue living a miserable life in the damp, cruel streets of fontaine, remembering how you demanded to be freed and returned to your homeland. but he really needed some meat to conduct a little bit of research and no one would notice some wretch missing off of the roads. bringing you back to snezhnaya was merely a way for him to add another lab rat to his ranks. 

however, when the other harbingers saw you manage to nick a little bit of his skin with a scalpel and leave a scar with how deep your sunk your teeth into his arm as you screamed bloody murder, the director decided there was a brighter future for your existence as a recruit. the promise of food and shelter was all you needed to willingly leave fontaine behind.

over the many years, you rose through the ranks to earn a spot as a harbinger. each scar marring your body was only another tale to the lore of your life. being a harbinger meant gathering more and more of these… imperfections on your body. you originally thought nothing of them; they were simply imperfections and odd textures on your body. it wasn’t until a snide, maybe even self-conscious comment from the fair lady herself that seemed to strike a chord within you.

you see, you weren’t blind to the world. you knew of manners, how to dress, how to be a part of society. you learned these things by watching others; however, there were intricacies with beauty that you had not needed to fester over til now. 

“how unbecoming of a lady.”

when you had turned to face your fellow harbinger, you watched the way she clutched her red dressings on her arms closer to her shoulders, almost covering herself and shielding her own body from your own. at times, the women of the upper echelon of the fatui would visit one another to gossip or… help preen one another during downtime. while the fair lady would prefer to call upon columbina to assist, she was busy. so, signora found herself at your doorstep for help since her hair was so long and she wanted someone to chat with.

your eyebrow raised, “unbecoming? enlighten me; what offends the beautiful signora today?”

the fair lady’s daily complaints were truly nothing new for the halls of the cold palace, but conversations, where she ragged on your lack of elegance or grace, were always amusing topics you would bring back to the balladeer and the youngest harbinger, tartaglia. 

the fair lady runs her delicate fingers through her hair, smoothing down the strands as she answers, “your body, my dearest,” she mutters, disdain oozing from the term of endearment, “is… difficult to look at.”

when you stare at yourself in the mirror, you trace your fingers over a burn near your arm. the deep splotches and lines marring your body suddenly stood out even more in the candlelit room. through the reflection, you stare at the woman sauntering to the edge of your bed, setting herself down, “they’re scars. skin. what’s wrong with them?” as a woman who grew up more concerned about the money in your pouch and food on the table, something as inconsequential as scars never crossed your mind. if the wounds healed, you ceased your concern.

but the other woman did not know of your origins.

she merely sighs, “imperfections are not something to be proud of as a woman. men may walk around and howl and boast about their battle scars, but us?” she purses her lips as she lowers her long, flowing crimson shawl. the fair lady’s eyes narrow in on an obvious defacement on her body. 

“these imperfections work against us. lowers our value.”

she bites out as she lifts her head, staring hard at you and your hallowed reflection in the mirror. 

“i’d advise you to cover up.”

later, the balladeer joins you in your chambers, as he had received wind of your time with the fair lady. he knew if he were to enter your office, you would mutter about the frivolous and silly gossip the women occupied themselves with. the puppet was certainly correct as you had rambled about some things the woman had talked about, but you chose to not mention the vulnerable topic around the marred skin littering your body. at least, not yet. 

tonight was a little different. you were getting ready for bed, gathering your night gown and laying it on the bed. at times, scaramouche might help you by running a warm bath, citing that humans get sloppy when exhausted, or he might help you disrobe because he has hedonistic needs he enjoys indulging in. 

when scaramouche had almost embraced you from behind and began to tug on your clothes to help rid of the fabrics, your hand darted to his, effectively stopping his motions from revealing skin lower than your shoulders.

“oh? not feeling it?” he calmly asks, noting the way your hand was tensing and relaxing as you gripped his wrist. his burning eyes scrutinized the way your jaw seemed to clench as you gritted your teeth. this was quite unlike you… typically you would return his advances with fervor, almost pathetically ripping your uniform off so the two of you could enjoy your evening with little barriers. he releases his firm grasp on your clothes as he steps back from your form to make note of the way you didn’t fully turn to him. your shoulders were rolled inward, almost cowering from him. quite unlike you.

eerily quiet, the male harbinger studies your face, “if you have grown tired of our… arrangement, let me know. i despise speculating what you humans are thinking about,” he finishes, wordlessly demanding an explanation for your sudden change of behavior. when you hesitate to speak, which he notes by the way your mouth seems to part slightly but no sound comes out, he almost rolls his eyes. however, you manage to make a sound, but he didn’t quite catch your words. 

“repeat yourself. louder,” the man orders, stepping forward, only for you to take a step back in a brief panic. he furrows his eyes and clicks his tongue, folding his arms as he waits at his spot. you were lucky scaramouche had even an inkling of warmth for you, otherwise he would’ve long tsk’d and walked out of your chambers. 

“...my body—“

“what’s wrong with it?” he presses, impatience dripping from his silver tongue. his fingers drum over the black sleeves of his attire. 

you flinch slightly before taking a shaking breath into your lungs. “i fear it is not up to your tastes.”

scaramouche says nothing as he stares at you, absolutely bewildered by your words. “not up to my taste?” he repeats in disbelief, taking a step forward to your hunched form. you took another step back, staring at him from the corner of your eye.

“yes. one of the things i spoke about with la signora was about the… scars sullying my body.” you sigh, your arms dropping to your sides in defeat. when scaramouche takes a quick step forward, you take a cowered step back, keeping the distance and continuing this odd dance. his strides increased in length before he found himself right at your feet with the backs of your knees pressed against the edge of your bed.

analyzing his beautiful face, you inwardly sigh when you notice even he was perfect, certainly better than la signora. his face was as pale as the fair lady, unmarked and unsullied by the world and his work. peering down his neck, you traced your eyes down his skin to note that even there, his skin remained unblemished and free from any imperfections like your own. 

his gruff scoff shakes you from your thoughts, “you’re more of a fool than i anticipated if you didn’t know i do not care about those superficial concerns.”

“h-huh?” you nearly squeak in response when he pushes you onto your bed. before you could protest, he crawls on top of you and kneels over you. his position is similar to ones you’d find yourself in and you reddened at the salacious imagery that flooded your mind. 

“your scars do not disgust me,” he starts, his voice lowering as he leans forward to hover over your face. before he could continue, you cut him off, “la signora said scars on men are to be seen as marks of pride, whereas scars on women are seen to detract from their beauty-”

scaramouche finally clicks his tongue and impatiently, almost harshly, knocks his hard puppet skull against your forehead. you curse and your hands fly to his arms to push him away.

“listen to me because i will only say this once,” he hisses, the feeling of vulnerability and awkwardness brewing in his chest, “the clown that is tartaglia is the only man who would truthfully cry to the heavens about his battle scars, but even he is not foolish enough to believe a woman is worth less because of her skin and the way the world was unfairly harsh on her.” 

in the back of his mind, he knows the eleventh would actually find those scars on a woman’s body as the cherry on top as proof of her strength. perhaps scaramouche did regretfully share a belief with the ginger man.

your eyes were wide as you watched the short male above you continue his mutterings. his pretty fingers tugged on your clothes once again, but you did not move a hair to stop him. scaramouche unbuttoned your dressings, tugging the top over your arms to expose your undergarments and body to his keen eyes. intimate moments like these were not typically filled with kind, loving words from the man. you never needed such reassurance before the fair lady infected your mind with such trivialities. he dully notes he’ll attempt to get la signora a particularly strenuous mission next time around.

silently, he traces his fingers over a large scar on your midriff and you gasp, a twinkle of fear burning in your eyes. he ignores your response and his feeling to dash and run from the situation. he continues, “these scars have stories.”

“well, of course they do-”

the raven-haired man ignores your interruption, swallowing away his desire to just huff at your insecurities and resume the typical agenda he wanted to skip to. for some reason, he felt a need to reassure you in his own odd way, “they’re not-so much ugly than they are… bittersweet. these are from your time in fontaine, correct?” he peers up at your confused gaze as you nod.

"well, yes. it was hard to be a child on the streets," you murmur, your eyes drifting to the side. you swallowed carefully, "fatui training is quite hard as well. you would know; you didn't hold back on me either," you laughed, jamming your finger on a faded mark on your arm from a time scaramouche had ordered you to weld a blade against him. 

he sighs as he strains himself, holding himself with one arm as the other explores your body. he gingerly rubbed the etching he left on you.

at times, he traces the markings. others, he trails around them if they looked sensitive. occasionally, he’d brush against a fresher one to see you squirm. your room was a little chilly considering the nation you were in. at first, your skin erupted in goosebumps at the cold air, but your embarrassment clearly warmed you right back up.

“scars infrequently have wonderful memories tied to them, but do carry stories about your life,” he continues, humming to himself quietly, “but by all means, i have never found them to be ugly. never have i thought your body was unappealing or ruined by them.” 

he sighs as he trains his eyes on your reddening face. your mouth was agape as he stares at you. the balladeer took this as a sign to continue.

“these scars are a part of you.” and he's always wanted every part of you.

hesitantly, he bends low and presses his lips against one on your shoulder before he reels back, his head angled at your dresser to avoid your hawkish stare.

shakily, you raise your hand to cup his head and he presses himself into the warmth of your hand. before you could thank him for his kind words, he huffs. while you’d love to say he was looking down at you with love in his eyes, he wasn’t. scaramouche looked… distant. nervous. uncomfortable. but you know he wasn’t feeling distant or uncomfortable because of you. moreso because you had accidentally forced him into playing a role he was not used to.

scaramouche wanted you to understand he never found those scars to lessen your worth. but the man was simply not cut out for such a task. 

when your thumb caressed his cool cheek, he sighs, “they are unfortunately yet beautifully human in a way that my past self would’ve been jealous about. so, enough of this tiresome self-consciousness. it’s not necessary,” he finishes with a frown. 

the cheek in your hand seemed to warm up. 

you blinked away the wetness in your eyes before you cupped both of his cheeks, pulling him in for a peck. he sputters in surprise before darting back up, still straddling your body on the bed. 

“thank you, scaramouche,” you give him a small smile, “i won’t lie that this concern of mine won’t just disappear overnight, but… this helped.” you gingerly grabbed his hands in your scarred ones and intertwined his fingers into your own.

he clears his throat and half-heartedly smirks down at you, squeezing your hands, “is that so? i suppose i can retract my earlier words of only reassuring you once.”

when you look at him with an inquisitive crane of of your neck, he rolls his eyes with little irk behind them, “meaning, i’ll remind you every time your foolish self shies away from my touch again.”

you laugh as he unlinks your hands and started to disrobe you even further, the more typical mood filling your room. 

“looking forward to it, balladeer.”

#scaramouche #kunikuzushi #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi x y/n #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #wanderer #wanderer x reader #wanderer x y/n #kunikuma’s fics

[kunikuma]

doll

oh, what a joy it is to be loved by you.

relationship | wanderer x gn!reader

synopsis | wanderer has a late night hobby he kept under the wraps. unfortunately and fortunately, you found out about it. content | fluff cw | none? wanderer kinda panicking. like rambling. a/n | take this appetizer while i focus on bigger fics. also, make sure you spend ur life with people who dont smother your hobbies! assuming it’s not legit bad. was real proud of this one back in march ahaha. it got polished tho. note the actual capitalization.

masterlist

A miniature version of the wandering ascetic finds a somewhat warm home in the sleeve of the wanderer’s clothes. Its sky-hued tear was permanently stitched onto its soft face as if alluding to the history of its owner. 

However, the crystalline droplet on the soft fabric wasn’t entirely accurate these days, as the internal rage and agony that ate away at the wanderer’s soul were tamed. Not gone, not quelled, but the flames licking at the cavity in his chest didn’t burn as much as they did in the past.

Next to the doll with the tear sat another one. One with a familiar shade of hair and eyes to someone he would begrudgingly admit he held dear. This doll was very clearly well made; the immaculate, hand-sewn seams and hair looked crafted with deep care, as if many iterations were made prior before this version found its home next to the other doll next to it.

How many prototypes did the wanderer make himself before he settled on the current iteration?

A few. 

But unlike another puppet maker in a land far away from his current abode, he kept the original doll and only polished it further. 

Never did he toss it away to start anew.

The wandering ascetic usually had the real, warm person near him. But during the times he didn’t, he found peace and minor company when he felt the two dolls brush against his arm while he walked alone during his travels. The added weight in his sleeve reduced the heaviness in his chest. Even while he soared through the sky over the arid deserts of Sumeru, the additional mass in his clothes only made him feel weightless.

Currently, on the topic of dolls, this special doll was missing. And the reformed wanderer was frantic.

“Where could it possibly be?” He mutters, flipping off all the cushions on the couches. The room was in disarray; pillows were flung to the floor, and knitted blankets were unfolded and messily strewn onto the chairs and floors. The man clicks his tongue in irritation, tapping his foot on the ground with impatience as his eyes dart around the room over and over, hoping to see a sign of his lost treasure. His breathing was quietly and unknowingly erratic, not bothering to keep it at a rhythmic, human pace.

The wanderer wasn’t that upset that it was lost; he reasoned he could always make a new one, a better one that represented his lover even better than the current prototype. But a sudden guilt weighed on his chest as his eyes narrowed slightly. A shred of guilt when he thinks about the pain the doll might feel when it realizes it was discarded-

‘It is not alive,’ he grumbles and pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Focus; where did you last see it?” Wanderer starts to retrace his steps, speaking aloud to no one in particular, mulling over his steps from the previous evening. Two nights ago, before leaving their shared home to aid Buer with a late-night task, he was resewing one of the buttons for your eyes. It had gotten a little loose from rubbing against him during his travels, but he had also picked up a better set that captured your shiny eyes.

The next time he remembered it was on Treasures Street. When on his way back home, he noticed a small blue gem that he felt would be a nice addition to a tiny doll's necklace. That night, the flustered man found himself using a bracelet clasp and attaching the gem to the metal. In the faintly candlelit bedroom with his pink tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, he wrapped it around the neck of the doll and secured it in place. 

Sewed the clasp at the base of the doll’s neck to keep it in place, too.

But… he checked the whole house already and found nothing. Wanderer was growing agitated as he considered where to look next.

He starts for the door, ready to comb through Treasures Street; if the doll wasn’t at home, then... Treasures might be a good place to start; he always walked through there. He only sighed as he got up, brainstorming better ways to secure the dolls in his sleeves. 

Perhaps two dolls were too heavy for one sleeve? But he did not want to split the pair, even if it balanced his body better when he walked.

The idea of someone finding you- err, the doll version of you, and mistreating his carefully crafted creation made him curl his fists. The idea of a child dropping you and muddying your face- ‘Doll. The doll’s face,’ he mentally chides himself.

Oh, Archons, the idea of you of all people innocently stumbling across a miniature version of you was horrifying.

Would you be disgusted?

Would you think it was silly? Stupid?

Would you think your lover made it?

Or some creep stalking you?

He pales as he grips the knob of the door, only to yelp when the door suddenly swings towards him, and oh god, you’re home and the house is a mess-

“Wanderer! I’m hom- Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” you chuckle, seeing his reddened face. As you shut the door, you note his normally silky hair looked a tad extra tousled, sticking out everywhere; you also hum at the crimson hue painting his cheeks and ears, and the very slight haggard breathing. Behind him, the house looks like a storm blew threw.

Was… he the storm? His hat was missing, so maybe he flew around the house…?

“…Doll, are you okay?” You ask, stepping forward to grab his hands. You feel a flinch when you make contact and his eyes bolt to yours, his mouth opening and closing as if he was lost for words.

Internally, he froze when you said ‘doll’, even though it was a frequent flyer for petnames.

“…I-I’m fine,” he mutters gruffly, “just need to get some air. Do you need something from Treasures?” he finishes, giving you an impatient look as he releases your hands and steps towards the door behind you. You gesture to the mess of pillows and blankets with a laugh.

“Not from Treasures, but I do need you to tell me why the house is a mess…?” You request, snatching his hands tightly to prevent him from darting out the door. The sight behind him was very not Wanderer. The man was a clean freak; he would never have left the house in such a mess, nor be the cause of a mess that bad. Distantly, your memories replay about the time he scolded you for not folding and putting away the bath towels. Your eyes drift to your cup of now-cold tea from the morning and make a mental note to clean that up soon before he notices.

He seems to short-circuit at your ask, struggling to come up with an answer that didn’t reveal the whole, embarrassing truth. Carefully choosing his words, he explains, “I’m looking for something I must have dropped. Nothing too important,” he breathes, fixing the rise and fall of his shoulders and chest, patting himself on the back for the most natural response. “Quite annoying to misplace things.”

You give him a curious look, gingerly letting go of his hands when you confirmed he wasn’t going to race out the door. “Oh? Wanderer, you never misplace things. What would this item be? I don’t mind helping.”

Your kind look did not ease his nerves at all. In fact, he tensed up at the thought of you knowing what he lost. Your curiosity told him you didn’t know what he was referring to, but you could be acting.

Did you already know what he creepily works on in the dead of night when you’re fast asleep?

When he lays next to you in your small bed, a candle illuminating his handiwork?

Did you-

“…if this is about the doll, it’s cute, you know!” You finish cheerily, looking at him and waiting for a trademark grumble or dismissive wave.

Except, Wanderer was not paying attention to a single word you said.

His eyes were just wide, staring off to the side as his hand trembled.

The door behind you leading to the bathroom had a loose screw.

There was a dust bunny near the cabinet.

Your cup of tea this morning was still near the door, forgotten after you started to rush for work and he managed to make a note to scold you for that.

He was so lost in thought and you noticed.

Suddenly, a warm hand cradles his cheek and he snaps out of it, jumping back. “If you didn’t hear me,” you started to murmur, “I said if you’re looking for the doll of me, I found it in our room this morning.”

The midnight-haired main starts to stammer, one foot sliding back to create distance between the two of you. Archons, he was so embarrassed. He couldn’t even keep up the mask right now—

“I guess it fell under the bed after you were working on it.”

Oh, you knew and found it. Oh, you knew and he was so screwed. You’ve been hiding how silly you thought his hobby was. Hiding how creepy of him it was to meticulously craft a doll that looked like you. It’s not normal to make a doll of your lover to keep by your side-

“Wanderer. Please listen.”

His eyes dart to yours and you see a startled look get drowned by a mask of indifference. His dilated pupils seemed to facetiously relax. But you knew better at this point.

“You found it?” He repeats, his voice unnaturally steady, unnaturally calm compared to his earlier tension. But you could see his shoulders’ cadence as if he was struggling to remember to look human. His eyes flitter around your features as if frantically searching for signs of repressed repulsion or judgment.

“Yes,” you repeat and step closer. You ignore the fact he took a small, timid step back. “And, if you were listening, I found it cute,” you finish again.

Wanderer’s eyebrows furrow.

“Cute?” He scoffs, “it’s just a mere doll. A meaningless one at that,” he mutters, redness tainting his ears.

Meaningless? Considering who the doll was inspired by… that was so very far from the truth.

He decided if he played this all off, you might just let it slide. He wanted the floor to swallow him whole than have the current conversation you both were having right now.

If he didn’t let it fall under the bed, this wouldn’t be happening. In retrospect, it makes sense. He was working on attaching the little gem to a chain and onto the doll. He remembers gingerly wrapping the chain around the neck and putting the finishing touches to secure it nicely… and then laying on his back and slowly, almost shyly resting the doll of you closer to his chest. He even remembers rolling onto his side to cradle it close, resting his chin on the top of the doll’s head, and deciding he would sleep.

You sigh and grab his hand, leading him to the messy living room. You both hop and skirt around the chaos on the floor and sit on the couch together. His hands are stiffly placed on his knees, and now he’s redder than before when he realizes you were awake at some point and saw him work.

“Meaningless, huh? Are you embarrassed-” You chuckle and ask and he sputters, opening his mouth for a curt response, but you cut him off hastily, “because I don’t think you should be!”

Wanderer just slumps in his spot, leaning against the backrest of the couch. Honestly, he was just exhausted. After uprooting basically the whole house, spiraling and panicking, and now having to have this conversation was so frustrating, so draining. “Just… give me the doll. I don’t really want to talk about this,” he grits out and stands up, waiting for you to follow and show him where you had it.

“Darling, it’s just on the shelf,” you laugh, pointing at the mini version of you neatly sitting on the shelf of books, high in the room. “I thought it was very cute, as I have said multiple times, so I put it up on display. I didn’t know where you kept it. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

A quiet grumble slipped from your lover as he stormed to the shelf and snatched the doll. ‘How humiliating’, he thinks as he hastily shoves the doll into his sleeve. ‘All of this, just for it to be right in front of me-’

A loud ‘aww’ pierces through the air, causing him to whip around to see you clasping your hands over your mouth. Your ears have turned a little red too and he stares, waiting for yet another round of humiliation to kick in. Archons, just deal the final blow already…

“You keep me with you?” You grin, bouncing up from the seat to rush to him. He stammers, as you quickly wrap your arms tightly around him. “I’m so flattered,” you murmur into his shoulder.

‘What is happening right now?’ The man thinks to himself, his hands hovering over your back, unsure what to do with himself. His hands were shaking, fingers bouncing between opening and curling closed “… I always have you, err, the doll, with me,” he chooses his words carefully. Still didn’t want to creep you out, but trying not to just outright lie.

You suddenly grasp his face, squishing his cheeks in the process. You ignore his protests and stare right into his eyes. “I will repeat myself for the last time. This is cute. You are cute. Please continue your hobby and stop worrying about what I think,” you remind him firmly, “besides, you don’t have to worry. I am honored to be your muse.”

You sense his unwavering hesitation and disbelief in his wide eyes, so you reassure him more gently after a pause, “…Wanderer, I love that you do this. When I wake up at night and see you working at your desk, I am reminded how wonderful it is to be loved by you.”

With his warming cheeks still firmly under your control, he only stares at you. Again, his mind is racing, but this time with much less negativity. 

You like the doll? 

You’re not disgusted? 

It wasn’t stupid? 

You’ve found comfort in seeing him work on it? 

You want him to continue? 

He’d begrudgingly admit that he was half-listening to your reassurances earlier; it was so hard to let the chaos in his brain simply quiet his anxieties and accept your words.

The doubt and hesitation are still clearly shown in his eyes, but there was a distinct change with the storm in his eyes. You let go of his cheeks and press your forehead onto his. “I’ll let you process this and calm down. But in the meantime, please help me clean up the mess you made,” you giggle lightly, your eyes drifting to the pillows near your feet. His eyes also follow your gaze down to the floor before letting out a quiet huff followed by a soft nod.

Later that night, you were pressed against his side, fully awake and alert. You were nodding along to his words, carefully listening to his explanations. You watched his perfect digits weave the thread through the doll; not a single mark marred his skin. With a small smile gracing his relaxed features, the wandering ascetic was murmuring how he plans on sewing you a new shirt next week as he attached a new, tiny flower clip he made the other day.

#wanderer #wanderer x reader #wanderer x y/n #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi x y/n #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #kunikuma’s fics

[kunikuma]

this ain’t build-a-b♡tch—! pt. 2

relationship | college student!kuni x gn!reader

synopsis | after a messy confession via build-a-bear kuromi plush, kunikuzushi was left alone with his demons and spiraled. hopefully, you returned his feelings. hopefully, you left him a sweet message! content | fluff, bit of angst cw | spiraling thoughts (marking as a panic attack to be safe), swearing, he jokingly calls you a bitch, one of my tags is lewd lul a/n | im baaaack!! different style here! wanted to try being a little more serious since p1 was very teasing and flirting. i think i incorporated more of how i imagine scara. snarky snarky, but inside, he’s a ball of anxiety and just needs someone to hold him close when he really needs it. he needs someone to snap him back. ill gather the vibes of ur responses and ill see if ill ever do this more serious approach ever again. part of me is inclined to make a p3 where you talk thru ur feels n fck as an apology for not making this one as charmin’, but um we’ll see bc i want to do other stuff too

p1 // p3 🔞 // masterlist

sounds were the only thing kunikuzushi could focus on.

everything just felt like too much, yet too little at the same time.

the sound of his nice car door shutting a little too harshly as you slammed it shut.

the sound of muffled yells of gratitude as you waved at him before darting inside.

the sound of your apartment door groaning shut behind you.

the sound of kunikuzushi’s heart slamming against the walls of his chest and the sound of his shaky breath finally escaping. admittedly, he held that breath in for a little too long, but he had no recollection of when he willed his body to not perform basic functions.

the weight of his decision to just… foolishly record himself confessing in the middle of a public location – a fuckin’ build-a-bear no less – drop the voice box into a sanrio stuffed animal, and agree to give it to you finally, finally, finally hit and he groans loudly and wearily rests his forehead on the steering wheel. his head rested right at the 12 o’clock position where a nice red mark was starting to marr his skin.

he winces at the anxiety bubbling and boiling faster under the surface as he tried to breathe, the sharp sting pinching his chest every time he inhaled. the way his vision felt a little hazy and unfocused.

“if i could turn back time,” he grumbles, flexing his fingers on the charcoal steering wheel. his already-shaky voice dies in the back of his throat when he focuses on the bright pink lump between his thighs. the plush pink fur mocked him, grated his eyes and his brain as the vibrant color seemed to remind him of the sunshine yellow walls at the corner of the store where he poured his heart into a plastic box for 20 seconds.

kunikuzushi’s eyes blearily stared at the blank gaze from my melody, innocuously resting peacefully between his legs. while her innocent appearance could have fooled him any other day, he knew that if he squeezed her tummy, your voice would fill the cabin of his car and either send him sprinting to your apartment unit to finally slam his lips onto yours or cause him to rip out his phone, block you on all social media, and buy an international plane ticket.

with that, he sits upright, sighs, and shifted gears into drive.

but not after gently nestling the offensively rose plush in his passenger seat. the drive back wasn’t far; the benefits of living in a college town. all of his annoying friends were less than ten minutes away by car. six if he felt like speeding.

meaning, the sudden influx of buzzing from his phone in his pocket as he drove could only mean one thing.

“fuck… fuck, already? you couldn’t wait six minutes?” he curses, staring hard at the red light in front of him as his knuckles whitened. he whips his head to my melody to send her a glare when he feels his pocket vibrate and an unfamiliar, default ringtone starts to wail.

oh my god, you're calling him. you NEVER call him. facetime and discord only, maybe.

after a loud honk from the car behind him, his eyes dart forward to see the green light, and kunikuzushi steps on the gas, lurching forward well over the speed limit. “whatever message you’ve got,” he hisses quietly, turning a little too hard as he watches my melody haphazardly tumble around the seat, “it better be good.”

the drive home was agonizingly long yet short-lived. when he pulled into his favorite parking spot next to the corner of his place, he sat in his seat for a while and closed his eyes. your calls stopped, but the intermittent buzzing from his pocket meant you were still spamming him. behind the lids of his eyes, he could picture the gray bubbled text messages, all of them with caps lock enabled and an excessive amount of question marks trailing every text. maybe a few of them contained disgusted messages. though, he was hoping to picture red heart emojis.

honestly, he wasn’t sure if spamming him or ceasing all messages scared him more. the former meant you were demanding answers, but didn’t cut him out yet. the latter…?

he didn’t want to think too hard about it.

while in the driver’s seat of his car, he thought long and hard about the friendship the two of you had nurtured over the past two years. specifically, the memory of meeting you during his second year of college.

pretty shitty first impression, if he was being honest.

you had arrived a few minutes early to the class section following his. he sat at the back of the big room, always sitting in the last row so he could leave 3 minutes early to avoid the crowd. when he glanced at his phone and saw he had his usual 3 minutes, he quietly stuffed his laptop into his bag and got up.

…only to collide with you and your too-sweet coffee.

the yelp from your lips and the irritated huff that ripped from his own as your hot coffee stung your skin and stained your sweater caught the attention of the entire lecture hall, silencing the frantic typing from his fellow peers as they all curiously gazed at the mishap.

the hushed anger and annoyance slipping from his mouth with your rough tug on his sleeve out the door started what he deemed to be the rockiest inception to a friendship he ever had.

and he only had a few of those, if we’re being honest. he had a few friends at the time, but the only one that ran deep was with ajax.

and now, you.

maybe not anymore, after today.

the complaints from your mouth and the huffed, ‘maybe don’t have boiling coffee in a lidless styrofoam cup’ from kunikuzushi’s displeased mouth eventually dissipated into a ‘whatever, i’ll buy you another coffee; will that quell your yapping?’

eventually, the owed coffee was given on wednesday, february 15th of 2021.

then, the two of you sort of just entered an odd study partner relationship. the owed coffee morphed into ‘we have an exam soon, i need you alive for the notes’ lattes, ‘tastes like shit, too much sugar’ teas, and ‘you’re a bitch without caffeine’ energy drinks.

study sessions once a week morphed into hanging out after class. hanging out after class led to hanging out for fun almost every day. he found himself relaxing at your apartment on the weekends, passive-aggressively commenting on your decor, but quietly smiling at the numerous plushies strewn about your home. 

back in his car, kunikuzushi groans and presses his hands against his eyes.

oh, how he’d kill to go back in time to hours prior. to redo everything over again and just record weird breathing noises into the plastic recorder so he could smirk when you cringed at the sound of his breathing when you hugged kuromi close. to continue to keep his contained yearning for more with you as a secret he'd keep for a little longer. 

when he entered his apartment, he toed his shoes off and neatly nudged them into their designated spot near the door. the feeling of his cold apartment’s embrace only made him shiver as he dragged his socked feet against the cheap linoleum floor of his kitchen into the hallway leading into his bedroom. as he pushed his ajar door fully open, he tosses his keys onto the table as he tensely runs his fingers through his hair after setting the ticking time bomb plush onto his bed, cursing under his breath when his rings get caught in his silky strands.

he walks to his dresser, removing each ring, one by one. his earrings, one by one. the two bracelets. everything had its place.

kunikuzushi was not stalling.

he quietly pushes his chair into his desk and straightens out the keyboard.

kunikuzushi was not stalling.

he pushes in a book on his shelf that stuck out a centimeter too far. his pc turns on from his rummaging and he types in his password.

he was not stalling.

the anxious young man was nitpicking the details in his room, using this time to hopefully wring out the anxiety flicking away at his heart and mind. the volume of the voices in his head rapidly drowned out every twinge of rational thought. he leans against his dresser, the wood making a quiet ‘thud’ as it nudges the wall.

‘what do they feel?’

‘did i say the wrong thing?’

‘are they… disgusted?’

‘will they… stop talking to me?’

he winces at that last poisonous thought that ate him, chipping away at the snarky walls he built around him. unbeknownst to you, the indigo-haired student begrudgingly craved your laughably annoying presence in his life. although his walls were high in the sky and as thick as the eye can see, you’ve always managed to crack through with your incessant quips and charming moments. when the two of you would separate for the evening and he was left in the darkness of his room, he carefully plastered and sealed those cracks, prepped for the next day.

yes, sometimes you were extremely annoying about the way you spammed him every morning about what dream you had the previous night.

and yes, he found your late-night rambles irking because he wanted to sleep early because of his early lab the next morning.

and yes, he thought the way you teased him in public to be extremely degrading and should be punishable by law.

'to the streets,' he'd mutter at you after you teased? him yet again, smirking at your appalled reaction.

but he would be the world’s biggest liar if he said a part of him didn’t deflate in the morning under his blanket when he noticed a lack of messages on his lock screen.

he’d be the biggest liar if he said he didn’t pout to himself in the darkness of his room when you yawned and said you were going to hop off of discord early for the night.

he’d be the biggest liar if he said he didn’t mentally replay your teasing and flirty comments towards him late at night when he clutches a pillow into his chest, jamming his face into the old pillow to let out an embarrassed groan as the corners of his lips quivered upwards.

and suddenly, it hit him. the silence in the room that finally rang louder than the voices in his head taunting and berating him.

“no more messages, no more calls,” he grits out, digging his phone out of his pocket as he approaches his bed where my melody is peacefully laid.

you had given up, haven’t you?

he collapses onto his back into the mattress; when kunikuzushi’s lilac eyes dart to his lock screen, he notices you sent at least over 100 messages, with the more recent ones being random letters to get his attention. at the top, 27 missed calls. he ignores the strength at which he clenches his phone before plopping his arms down to his side.

anxious.

the crack on his ceiling got a little bigger, he notices.

so very anxious.

the way his hands fumble for something to ground him annoyed him greatly, as the only items near him were his phone, plush, and blanket underneath him. as he releases his phone, he rolls onto his side and curls into a small ball, taking deep breaths.

eventually, he works the nerve to wildly launch his left arm behind him, searching for the pink plush that would decide how his relationship with you would blossom or shrivel up and wither away.

his neatly manicured hands finally brush against the soft fabric and he flinches. he grabs the pink offender carefully, so as to not accidentally start your recording. with the gentleness of a feather falling to the forest floor, he rests my melody next to his chest as he lays his arm down on top, her face pressed gently against his body.

“…just do it already,” he grumbles as he tries to coax himself, his voice shaking as he tries to remain as collected as possible; you clearly already listened to his recording. 

"it doesn’t matter at this point,” he attempts to reason with himself.

‘what’s done is done.’

but the starved demon clawing at his chest whispered to him to continue panicking, fueling his racing thoughts.

to continue putting this off so he never had to speak to you again. if he ignored your calls, messages, and my melody in his arms, then you could never hurt him with your words. with your rejection.

after all, he never gave you a good reason to truly fall for him. he was snarky, sharp-tongued, and downright rude at times. in his eyes, all he had going for him was his looks.

he could already hear your awkward rejection. the pitied glances you’d shoot his way, along the promise to remain good friends. the tense atmosphere that would follow the two of you from then on as he struggles to be as platonic as possible and shove his feelings down.

ignoring you wouldn’t hurt as bad. and he was good at ignoring problems.

the ravenous, hungry demon was sinking its claw into kunikuzushi’s back and down his arms, preventing him from giving my melody the squeeze she desired to start your tune, but before the claws could take, a more familiar ringtone buzzed from both his phone and pc. he swallows thickly before realizing you were calling him on discord. a tune much more familiar.

he grabs his phone and with an unsteady thumb, he hits the green ‘join’ button and slowly lowers the phone near his head back onto the sheets.

“-uni. kuni? wow, you finally answered.”

your gruff voice brings a small, repressed, and hesitant smile to his face as he fiddles with the hem of his sleeves.

“hello? did you not actually answer? hello…? i see you’re in the call-” you pressed on, both frustration and freneticism trickling from your voice. initially, you were relieved he finally answered, but maybe he accidentally picked up; he wasn’t saying a word.

for kunikuzushi, if he had to guess based on the shifting audio quality of the call, you were also on your phone, pacing around your apartment.

at times, your voice echoed. hallway.

sometimes it sounded rich and warm. bedroom, he’d guess.

he takes a moment before responding quietly.

“i'm here.”

kunikuzushi inwardly winces at the delivery of his words; he thought he sounded scared, maybe even weak. but you couldn’t discern that. if you did, you paid no mind. but you didn't know he was curled into a small ball, his knees pressed into my melody, just softly enough to not trigger the voice box. you didn’t know he was petrified over his confession.

you released a relieved sigh, and he notes you’re in the kitchen now based on the sound of your socked feet hitting the floor. you take a deep breath to steady yourself, not wanting your excitement over finding out your feelings were returned to ruin the surprise.

“i heard your message.”

“mm.”

“did you hear mine yet? i’d guess not since you’re not saying much.”

silence.

you frown, your heavily concealed excitement genuinely dropping when you acknowledge how despondent he was being. you could hear shaky breaths, but only breaths. you catch on, leaning against the countertop as you lower your voice.

gently, you press on, the excited and teasing tone fully mellowed out, “kuni, did you listen to mine?”

he catches you off guard; in the smallest voice you’ve ever heard him speak in, he ignores your question and poses his own:

“are you going to leave me?’

“what? why would i—“

the shaky pacing of his voice is what made your voice die in the back of your throat at his next words.

“because,” he says quietly into his phone. the sound of rustling hinted that he was changing positions on his bed as his voice muffles a little, “…i shouldn’t have said anything,” he whispers and you barely hear him.

more rustling.

he had his left hand gripping his phone, digging the sharp edges into the palm of his hand as he breathed into his blanket, hiding half of his face into the baby blue cloth. his next words felt too real, too raw and your stomach nearly dropped when you realized how much his recorded confession was bothering him. the rash confession and subsequent vulnerability blew a hole in his plastered walls. the pain and frantic tone worsening with each word.

“we would’ve been just fine. our friendship would've been the same as before, but i-i ruined it—”

“kuni—”

“i ruined it by letting feelings get involved!”

“kuni!”

your shout startles him as he hastily blinks away a twinge of wetness in his eyes. the lilac man was grateful you couldn’t see the shimmer yourself.

“kuni, listen to me. hug my melody.”

kunikuzushi shakes his head but remembers you couldn’t see him. he follows up and mumbles a quiet refusal.

you sigh, but a teensy smile slipped through. under normal circumstances, you would not be reveling in his misery. however, you knew what was contained within your own message and you couldn’t help but release a quiet laugh.

“just trust me on this one. just hug her.”

you heard rustling and a few beats of silence over the call. you could hear a quiet little curse from the indigo-haired man’s lips as he took a deep breath. his hands shook as he wrapped his arms around the pink stuffed animal.

fear of rejection. fear of being abandoned. oh, it was all too much for his little heart.

squeezing his eyes shut, he squeezed hard, shoving her against his heart.

“kuuuuni! i hope the audio quality is good enough for you to hear me. i’ve been too scared to tell you how i feel. to be honest, i’d actually been too scared to tell you how i’ve felt for two years now. bumping into you wasn’t a mistake, by the way. i planned this out like a slow-burn fanfic on ao3.”

he heart seemed to stop as you stopped talking to laugh quietly, humming as you contemplated your next words. the static did not do your laugh justice as you took a moment to continue. the teasing, light-hearted tone you usually carried with you seemed to soften into something serene and more genuine.

“i really like you, kunikuzushi.”

over the discord call, you patiently waited for him to speak. your message was simple. it came out naturally, especially if you compare it to the stuttered messy confession kunikuzushi gave you. but it was only easy because you had practiced your confession many times in the shower, in front of the mirror, in the kitchen, and to ajax.

a soft, relieved yet stuttered sigh slipped from him, along with a few sniffles.

“so… no need to be scared, okay? i won't leave you. i like you too much to leave you.” you murmur your reassurances into the mic, resting your chin in your hand. he releases a shaky laugh and a tsunami of relief floods his body.

“i fucking hate you,” he sniffs, a choked laugh erupting from him. “i hate you so fucking much–”

“okay, we literally know that’s not true at all–”

“i hate that you made me panic like this. that you make me feel so weak and vulnerable.” he concludes, clearing his throat as he blinks away any remaining trace of anxious tears threatening to fall. he held my melody in his arms, gently enough to not trigger another playthrough of your message.

he'd listen to your message later tonight. over and over and over. 

he feels his hands beginning to simmer down their jitter as he pathetically laughs into the microphone again, delirium settling into the marrow of his bones.

you leaned against the counter, taking in his almost maniacal laughter with much amusement. after his laughs die down and the two of you remained silent for a beat, he speaks.

“god, i fuckin’ hate you,” he rasps, as he covers his eyes with his forearm.

you were just grinning and smirking, drumming your fingers against the countertop’s shiny surface, “yeah? hate me enough to come over? i can comfort you or you can nap with me; owe you that much.”

he quietly snorts into the phone as he slowly slides out of his bed, feeling a distinct lack of energy in his gait from the panic he had earlier, but a relieved lightness in his chest, right where his heart rested.

he’s grabbing his keys and snags my melody as he rushes to his door for the second time today, but with a tiny bounce in his step and diminishing weight in his chest. he presses his phone against his ear and shoulder as he quickly kneels to tie his shoes. a small, tired smile easily paints itself on his face.

“yeah, i hate you enough to do just that.”

#n then yall fkd 4 hours ♡ #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin impact x reader #wanderer x y/n #scaramouche x y/n #kunikuzushi x y/n #wanderer #scaramouche #kunikuzushi #genshin impact au #genshin impact #BaB - kuni #kunikuma’s fics

[kunikuma]

ring pop–!

relationship | college student!kuni x gn!reader

synopsis | giving kunikuzushi a sweet treat content | fluff, mutual pining cw | none a/n | something short and sweet i made while on the way home from visitin’ the bf. not much dialogue here because i... didn’t feel like it aha. if you’re unfamiliar with ring pops, they are diamond-shaped lollipops on a ring.

masterlist

kunikuzushi laid in his bed.

his clothes from today were still clinging onto his skin; typically, he was the type to scowl at his friends if they launched themselves onto his clean sheets with clothes that had contact with the outside world.

the young man was lost in thought this evening as he counted and recounted the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. replaying tonight’s events over and over again.

his lavender eyes gazed at his raised hand as he thumbed the cylindrical indigo plastic that was currently hugging his pale digit.

it was dumb.

juvenile, even.

going to the carnival in town this evening was juvenile.

not that he knew that was your plan. tricking him was juvenile.

when he got your message to meet him at the park, he opened his planner to check if he had any last-minute first-week assignments looming over his head. he trailed his finger down on the dark ink staining the paper and saw crossed-out assignments with some blank sections.

it wouldn’t kill him to spend some time with his irking best friend at the park.

knowing you, you would use him to gossip about cute people from class and talk until his ears bled as the two of you swayed on the park swings. being your best friend granted him that oh-so-lovely privilege of being your emotional and academic punching bag.

you were annoying like that.

so why?

why did he find his shoes scuffing against the concrete sidewalk as he walked closer? why did his shoes continue to shuffle along the rough floor when he noticed the bright lights and loud music filling the evening air the closer he got to the park? why did he continue to walk on the wet grass with a scowl as he approached your grinning visage near the amusement park entrance?

“surprise!”

his scowl only deepened when you waved two tickets in his face.

that entire evening was filled with “too many”. as in, there were too many frustrating events.

too many people he had to shove through. he had to snatch your hand not to lose you in the sea of heads.

too many carnival sweets shoved in his face. he had nibbled on each snack you waved at his face, only to grimace and shove it back in your hand.

too many scam games where you begged him to win you the prize if you failed to do it for yourself. he had won almost every game except for the ring toss.

by the time the crescented moon was high in the sky, the two of you sat on the swings like he initially thought the two of you were going to do.

your pile of prizes sat on his jacket that he laid on the park bench so your goodies didn’t get wet by the leftover dew from the rain. the park swings were entirely too low, and clearly made for toddlers. that detail never stopped the two of you from claiming the same two spots whenever late-night chats needed to take place.

the two of you complained about the semester that just started, talking about dumb classes that didn’t closely pertain to your disciplines or how the both of you couldn’t get the best seat at the lecture halls.

kunikuzushi swayed gently on his plastic swing as he idly watched you swing much higher on yours as you kicked your feet against the ground to gain more air.

this is how most of these swing sessions went. you offered a topic, he replied with his thoughts, and you led the rest of the way til you had a new topic in mind.

it was a recipe both parties followed well.

you were going to alter the recipe tonight.

not that he knew that yet.

at some point, he was watching your silhouette swing past the glimmering twinkles of the night summer sky as you complained about a professor who assigned a project so early in the year. your breathlessness between words amused him as he watched you kick the ground to retain the rhythm you had built up.

he thumbed the silicone-coated swing chains between the pads of his fingers. one chain link’s coating had started to peel off, so he found himself fiddling with it as he nodded along to your words.

later, a child scurried over to happily share candy with the two of you. while kunikuzushi silently shook his head in a refusal to the offer and almost commanded the boy to go back to the carnival to rejoin his guardians, your swinging rhythm gradually ceded. you extended a hand out to ask for two candies from the young boy and told him to head back before anyone got worried.

you unwrapped the treat and slid it onto your hand and quietly enjoyed the sweetness you were tasting. your sways on the swing were subtle as you gently kicked the earth beneath you. the young man stared at you for a moment before turning his gaze forward. his eyelids shut as he relaxed, his tense shoulders following suit. his tight grip on the swing chains did not. distantly, he could hear your idle chatter resume. further, the music from the tents droned on.

the sudden sound of the chains and your feet crushing the woodchips and dirt below made him peek in your direction. he watched you brush yourself off and take steps in his direction. your shoes kicked up moist dirt and he rolled his eyes as you stood in front of him.

he broke the silence between the two of you.

“you’re blocking my way.”

“you weren’t swinging.”

the summer crickets and faraway carnival life filled the night air as the two of you stared at each other. he eyed the way you fiddled with the other unwrapped candy as you sucked on the candy attached to your finger. the crinkling of the wrapper was distracting—

“i’d get down on one knee to fake-propose to you,” you started with a snort as his eyes widened, “but the ground is wet. you’re not worth muddying my clothes.”

before a sharp retort could escape his throat, you thrust out your hand in his direction. in the dimly lit park, he saw the glimmer of the park lights in the crystalline blue candy gem. as his eyes drifted from the deep blue sugary gem to your crooked grin, his cheeks felt entirely too warm and he knew you wouldn’t let him blame it on the cool summer night.

the blood rushing through his ears was deafening. he watched your lips move as you asked him a question.

back in kunikuzushi’s room, he rested his head against his right hand as he stared at the pale green stars he taped to his ceiling with you only a few years prior. his amethyst eyes trailed from one star to another, ignoring the occasional illumination of dust that fluttered past his gaze. he thought about how he complained about how dumb it was to be eighteen years old and install those stars in his childhood room. at his complaints, you super-glued three of them.

the city lights from the streets along with the moonlight broke through the glass panes near his bed. if you were sitting at his desk and saw him, you might’ve thought he looked quite picturesque with the way his lashes cast a shadow on his cheeks or the way one eye seemed to twinkle; the moon was doing a lovely job illuminating that side of his face.

kunikuzushi thumbed the plastic ring sitting on his digit, gently twirling it around his finger. the candied gem had long been eaten.

it didn’t taste too bad.

#wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche x y/n #wanderer x y/n #kunikuzushi x y/n #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #wanderer #scaramouche #kunikuzushi #kunikuma’s fics