WORSHIP | Scaramouche x Reader One Shots

[ DAY 5 ] - ❝headpats❞

〞[ giving him a headpat and him returning it ]
‣... boyfriend! scaramouche x gn! reader
‣... a/n: how did I end up from my intention to write fluff to writing suggestive in like five minutes I have no idea. just enjoy this mess // also they're making out. good night.
‣... idfk what genre this is. chaos?
↳ 07:41 pm, 2022

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He hates it, or so he says. Even if his pupils dilate the moment your hand makes contact with his head, he will aggressively avoid it at first. Just that simple touch of yours would make him jump away.

"I'm not a fucking dog, get away from me."

It saddens you, bottom lip coming out in a pout unconsciously while you hold the hand that he slapped away with your fingers.

"I just wanted to...nevermind," a mumbled apology escapes your lips after this and you drop your gaze on the floor.

His tired, bewitching indigo colored eyes soften just a bit, letting a sigh leave his mouth. You always do this when you don't get your way, it's inevitable. It's like he just stole your favorite candy and doesn't want to give it back to you, and you tend to distance yourself from him and sulk in a corner if he doesn't at least pinch your cheek to show you that he's not really mad at you.

Scaramouche stands up from his chair, approaching your slumping figure. He grabs your chin with his thumb and pointer and raises your head.

"How about you kiss me instead," a sly smirk blooms in the corner of his mouth.

"Huh," you breathe out in confusion, feeling the heat from his touch burn your skin.

"Well, if you want my attention so badly..."

He doesn't continue his sentence; he just stands there, in front of you, drowning in your innocent, yet flustered expression that only he could achieve just by saying a few simple words. Butterflies dance in your stomach as his thumb caresses your jaw, sending shivers down your spine and goosebumps on your skin. You felt more dizzy with each passing second, you barely even comprehended the way his lips already touched yours, but you didn't hesitate to answer his sudden rough kisses.

His hands feel cold on your back, moving down your hips as he pressed you closer to his desk and pushing you on it after he throws the papers further away.

"Open your mouth for me," he orders. His breathy voice tickled your senses as you nodded immediately and parted your lips.

Your chests are heaving, noses bumping with each other every time he would deepen the kiss and it was making you lose your mind. You felt lost against his body, because all of your thoughts disappeared. You couldn't think clearly anymore, he was stealing away everything: your breath, your energy and love, your worries and insecurities and pains. It was like his touch was healing, his fingers gripping your hips as yours clasped the material of his uniform from so much intensity.

And then it all stopped the moment you placed your palm on the back of his head, petting his hair gently. You were too lost in your love for him to realize, too gone inside your head and fantasies from his soft lips, that when he actually pulls away, finally giving you a second to catch your breath, you find yourself whining at the loss of contact.

"Did you just- give me a headpat," he breathes out.

Your eyes widen.

"I-" you exhale shakily and gulp. "I didn't realize..." you continue, unsure of his reaction. He is always so hard to read in moments like these, when his eyes pierce the deepest parts of your soul, "I didn't realize because it's the first time you kissed me like this after a long time."

Avoiding his look, you turn your head to look at the ticking clock placed on the wall, even if you couldn't even hear it because your heart was too loud. Your fingers slowly relax and releases his silky hair from their grip, but he catches your wrist tightly.

"Hah..." He inhales deeply through his nose. "You always fascinate me," Scaramouche mumbles, then a soft pat on your head makes your pretty eyes widen again. "You get happy from such small, yet pathetic things. I could never understand why you humans are so weak."

He stays quiet for a second, letting every word engrave itself in your clouded mind, eyes searching for your entrancing irises that are now darkened in the light of the chandelier.

Then he leans in to bite your neck softly, "I don't mind having you weak for me, though."

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©2022 -higashikata. do not copy, translate or repost my work.