Rehabilitation

  Scaramouche nodded and F/N stayed unconscious.

  "As much as I figured out so far," he said, "any water you give to her or expose to her has to be cold. She developed a phobia for hot water."

  "Alright," Scaramouche nodded, "thank you."

  "If anything goes wrong- or something happens to her health," he rubbed his fist, "let me know-"

  "I will," he nodded.

In the morning, F/N changed into her clothes. She was meek, her body frail and smaller than what it used to be. He held her hand tightly in his.

  "Let's go home- yeah?" he asked.

  She nodded and followed him. They walked out of the Palace, Scaramouche didn't even care about the looks or stares. He was walking slowly beside her, her hand tightening around his, her body shunning into his.

  "Scara," she whimpered.

  "It's alright," he whispered, "I'm holding you tight."

He gripped her hand tighter and they walked home. She took off her shoes and he let her hand go.

  "I want to take a bath," she whispered.

  "Go for it," he said.

  "Can you- come with me?" she asked, "just to be there?"

  He nodded and they went upstairs. She took off her clothes, ran a cold bath, and lay in it, pulling her knees to her chest. Scaramouche leaned against the counter and looked at her, crossing his arms.

  "F/N-" he said.

She hummed in response.

  "Can you tell me what happened?" he asked, "what happened there?"

She shook her head, "I can't-"

He went to her and pushed her hair back, looking her in the eyes, "please? I'll protect you- don't be scared."

She looked at him, "Don't be mad- please- I don't want you to be mad at me."

He shook his head, "I won't be mad."

"You promise?" she whimpered.

"I swear on my life," he said.

  She nodded, looking back into the water, she told him of everything she went through in such a short time. He looked into the water and closed his eyes, imaging her in such a position- was never his intention. He wanted the best for her, she was an angel, such a sweet little girl. They ruined and tainted her. He looked up, his eyes narrowed and she gasped.

  "You said you won't be mad," she whispered, almost crying.

He placed a hand on the back of her neck, "I'm not mad at you my love."

He kissed her forehead. 

  "I'm sorry for all of that," he rubbed a hand under her eyes.

  "I want to forget about it all," she cried, the tears falling into the tub, "but it's always there- I feel it all in my dreams. My body hurts all over I can't."

He hugged her and brought her head to his chest, "It's okay- you'll forget. You'll forget."

  She cried and he tried his best to coo her they were just desperate attempts though. He helped her dry herself and change into nightclothes. She sat on the edge of the bed, he held a brush in his hand and held onto her hair, ready to brush it out. He placed the teeth of the comb in and slowly pulled down. Her head was pulled back and her eyes widened, a familiar feeling shot up her back and throat, a pain- a hurt so bad she almost cried.

  "Stop!" she yelled, "stop it!"

He pulled away and she held her and he heard her heaving, panting.

  "It hurts," she whispered.

He hugged her from behind, "I'm sorry- that wasn't my intention."

She cried and he hugged her tighter, "It's okay F/N- I'll be more careful."

  She nodded and he began at the very tips, moving his way up, her hair was tangle and knot-free, flowing and moving evenly through his fingers. He kissed her cheek and she tried to smile.

  "There you are-" he rubbed her arms, "do you want to sleep?"

  "I just want you," she whispered, "close to me- like we were."

  "What do you mean?" he asked.

She turned to him, "I feel like you're taking care of me- like I'm a child. I don't want that- I want you you back."

  "F/N," he crouched to her eye level, "I have to take care of you, I am your partner. You take care of me and I take care of you- you need me right now, and I am here for you. Until you get better and can show me that you feel more comfortable- I want to help you get there."

She nodded and he hugged her and moved them below the blanket, "I'll stay with you here for now though."

  She nodded and he held her close to his chest as he looked toward the wall, his hand brushing her hair away and placing soft circles in her sides. She fell asleep, the soft blanket and his breathing lulling her to sleep. She held his clothes tighter and fell asleep against him. He looked down, saw her eyes closed and smiled. Able to finally relax. They woke up early in the morning, Scaramouche taking a shower and changing into his clothes as she did. She put on her shoes and her jacket and he twirled his hat on his head. She reached for his arm and he looked at her as she grabbed his hand with both of hers.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered.

He squeezed her hand and smiled, "no need."

She nodded and he walked with her. She looked around at the bright surroundings of the capitol, the snow glowing with glittering effects. He watched her eyes glowing with the snow's reflection. He tugged her a little bit, "Come on F/N."

She nodded and followed him. He let her hand go once they entered the Palace and she almost whimpered. He saluted the others with a vulgar comment, but she waved to them.

  "It's good to see you're alright!" Capitano hummed.

  "Yeah-" she nodded, "how are you?"

  "I'm great~" he held a thumb up and Scaramouche frowned with a scoff.

  "Amateur," Scaramouche rolled his eyes, "at best."

  "What do you mean?" Capitano snapped.

  "Whatever, not my problem," he waved it off, "come F/N."

She followed him walking by his side and he opened the door, she froze for a second, and he looked at her.

  "Still weary- hm?" he asked.

She nodded and he scrunched his lips in thought, "Follow me then."

She nodded, they went to the back of the Palace, where there was a large garden. He patted the place next to him and she sat down. 

  "We'll stay here then," he whispered, "and look at the garden."

F/N looked at him and nodded.

  "Thank you," she hummed, pulling her hands into her lap and playing with the white apron, "for being patient with me, I promise- I'll try to get better."

  "Take your time," he looked up, "I have forever to wait for you."

He looked at her and she looked down, his smile lowered.

  "But I don't," she looked at him, "my life is only so limited- and if I waste it like this while I'm young- I won't forgive myself."

He placed a hand on hers and shook them and nodded, "Don't worry about that- to me- you'll always be young."

She chuckled and he smiled, "I suppose-"

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in, placing her head on his shoulders, "don't you worry about anything- just have fun in life."

She nodded and he smiled, "good."

They looked out into the garden and he sighed, watching the wind sway the trees and plants, F/N sighed and he rubbed her head.

  "Scara?" she asked.

  "Yes?" he asked.

  "Do you love me?" she asked.

He nodded, "Yes- I do- a lot."

She smiled, "Good- I love you a lot too."

  "Why do you ask?"

  "Just asking," she hummed.

  "Why?"

  "Because- it makes me feel better," she said.

He lifted her chin looked into her eyes and smiled. His thumb rolled over her pink lips and he let it rest on the corner of her mouth, "you're amazing F/N."

She blinked and he leaned his forehead against hers, "I'm sorry for everything."

  He hugged her and pressed her head to his shoulder, squeezing her tightly. She nodded, holding him back. She needed to get better, she needed to get over her fears. She wanted Scaramouche back, not this nice imposter. She tried her hardest, practising her smiles in the mirror. Lifting the corners of her mouth. She even started boiling water for dinner, keeping her body near it. Forcing herself to look at it, Scaramouche knew, of course, he knew. He passed by the bathroom, seeing her practice smiling. Watching her struggle to lift her lips. He saw her grip on the counter, knuckles white as snow, staring into the pot. Her legs slightly shaking, he saw her eyes dig into the water, trying to stare it down for whatever reason. She pressed herself to the windows, feeling the cold glass against her back. He saw the amount of hair that accumulated on her hair brush due to the harsh pulling on her hair. He was proud of her, yet a part of him wanted her to take her time. Not force change on herself. He came down and watched her calmly boil the tea her hands waiting patiently and pouring it down into a cup and placed it in front of him kissed his cheek and placed her hand behind her head.

  "Good morning love," she smiled, "I made you some tea-"

  "Thank you," he said and sat down, she placed a plate before him with food, she grabbed her own plate with tea.

  "Are you feeling alright?" he asked, drinking his tea while looking at her.

  "Yeah-" she nodded, "I feel great wonderful."

  "Good," he nodded and he ate, the wonderful food that F/N made.

Once he was done, she cleaned up and they went to the Palace. They looked as Scaramouche and F/N walked in.

  "You've got to help us," Childe and Dottore looked to F/N.

  "How can I help?"

  "Capitano likes this girl but he can't talk to her," Childe chuckled.

  "Uh-uh," Scaramouche shook his head, "you can't practice with F/N."

  "Why?" Dottore whined, "Please- help a brother out."

  "He isn't my brother ," Scaramouche hissed, "she's mine- get your own to practice with."

  F/N turned red, he walked and she followed him, although the others were following him and nagging him. F/N looked at Scaramouche as he was pulling his hair under his hat.

  "Fuck! Fine!" he snapped.

  "Bring this idiot in," Scaramouche waved off before placing his head in his hands.

F/N's hand went to his shoulder, rubbing into it. He let out a deep sigh, Capitano coming in.

  "You can use F/N to practice, but no touching," Scaramouche warned.

  "Alright, alright," Capitano lifted his hands, "I don't want to die."

Scaramouche nodded and F/N looked at them and then at Capitano.

  "What kind of girl is she?" F/N asked.

  "She's very- headstrong- but she's really sweet," Capitano said, "she takes care of everyone and everything but is the first to call someone out on their bullshit."

  "Hm~," she thought, "alright- where are you going out?"

  "I haven't decided yet," he rubbed his neck, "I just kinda said it was a surprise."

F/N hummed and nodded, "Alright- you show up at her door- now what?"

He looked at her and she blinked back, she tilted her head and shook her hand over his eyes.

  "You can't stare blankly at her-" F/N said, "she'll find that weird."

  "Oh- right," he stammered, Dottore and Childe staring at them, Scaramouche leaning back in his chair and narrowing his eyes.

  "I- um-" he looked beside her, Scaramouche's eyes digging into his with a nasty aura.

  "Don't look at him," F/N stepped in front of Scaramouche and snapped her fingers, "you need to have eye contact with her- look her in the eyes."

Capitano nodded and cleared his throat, "Hey."

  "Good evening," she replied.

  "Are you ready- to go out?" he asked and she nodded and crossed her arms.

  "Yes- I am," she hummed, "I'm excited to see where you're taking me."

Capitano nodded.

  "So let's assume the night went well," F/N held out a hand and Capitano looked into her eyes and tilted her head, "you have to ask her out."

  "Right," he nodded.

  "How long have you known her?"

  "For two months," he replied.

  "Alright- go ahead."

  "So- um- since I've known you for quite a while," he tried to continue staring into her eyes, they were so cold, yet warm, the blue and purple hues melting into one, "I've come to know you a lot, and you are such an impressive woman. You do everything so- well, I know you are busy, but I would really appreciate it if you would consider going out with me?"

Scaramouche laughed and they looked at him, "You aren't asking her to be your business partner."

  "Scara-" F/N whispered.

  "No- F/N- let me show you, idiot," he got up and leaned on his side on the table and placed a hand on the table and the other on her side.

The Harbingers looked as Scaramouche tightened his grip on her waist and looked into her eyes.

  "I've known you for a while, and everything you do- is so beautiful, so elegant. You're always right there to help everyone. You push through all of the obstacles that life throws at you, and you get over them and jump leaps and bounds over them. Your eyes are so beautiful, they shine and compete with the brightest stars. Your voice is softer than rain," he lifted his hand to her cheek and she froze, "and I know I might just be an idiot in love with a muse, but could you indulge me in living in that reality where you and I are the only ones?"

  F/N was red all over and stammered and blinked, her lips contorted up in a weird smile. The other Harbingers looked at him in awe and he turned to them with a frown.

  " That's how you do it," he said.

Capitano was in awe and froze.

  "I don't think I can do that," he said.

  "Then you don't deserve her," he said and sat on the table, F/N still beside him, "it's fucking awkward- admitting to them- you'll want to die and cringe at everything you do- but you never know- they might love how amusing it is- I mean who wouldn't love clowns after seeing you?"

  "Uh- hey!" Capitano huffed.

Childe and Dottore looked at each other.

  "I don't think I've ever heard you say something so nice before, like ever," Childe hummed.

  "Yeah- of course you haven't," Scaramouche deadpanned, "it's a fucking example."

  "So- how did you ask her out then?" Dottore asked.

Scaramouche looked at him and his lip twitched, "nosy brat."

F/N chuckled and sighed.

  "How did this sleaze ask you out?" Capitano asked.

  "Hey!" Scaramouche yelled, "don't fucking call me sleaze when you can't even ask out a fucking woman!"

He jumped off of the desk and F/N placed a hand on his chest and he looked at her. She had a small smile and he huffed.

  "I was direct," he crossed his arms and closed his eyes, "I said that I wanted to be her lover, not her friend."

They looked at her and she shrugged, "Yeah- that was what he said."

  "That's so basic," Childe lifted a brow, "much less eloquent than what you just said."

  "Yeah- I don't fucking do eloquent," he waved it off.

  "All you have to do is just tell them how you feel," F/N looked at Capitano, "worst case you'll just stay as friends."

Capitano huffed, shaking his head.

  "I still don't think I'll have the courage," he whispered.

  "You have to," F/N said placing a hand on his shoulder, "you have to bring up the courage. If you truly love her- then you'll do anything for her- and if you can't ask her out because you're afraid, then Scara's right- you don't deserve her."

Scaramouche narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms.

  "You're hanging out with him too much," Capitano sighed.

  "I don't think living together can be considered 'hanging out'," he air quoted.

There was a knock on the door and he looked at it, "Come in."

Pierro walked in and saw them, "What an odd- meeting."

  "We're helping this little bitch try and ask out a girl," Scaramouche pointed his thumb to Capitano.

  "I- see," he nodded, "well- this is for you."

He held it to him and he took it and looked at it, "Alright- I'll check it out."

  He placed it on his desk and Pierro left and Scaramouche went to his desk to open the large letter and look into it. He placed the envelope away and opened the letter. He irked and the others looked at him and he sniffed the paper, immediately gagging at it. 

  "What the fuck?" he asked, smelling his hands and gagging.

  "What is it?" Childe asked.

  "This paper smells like shit," he said, placing his forearm over his nose.

  "Do you think it's some prank?" Dottore asked.

  "I'll kill whoever thinks this shit is funny," he huffed.

He lifted the letter, reading it before he tore it and threw it out the window.

  "I need to wash my hands," he looked at them and they went to the infirmary.

F/N grabbed his wrist and brought his hand to her nose, sniffing it. It did smell putrid. It was a horrible stench. But she recognized it.

  "Cadaverine and putrescine," she said, "wash it off immediately."

He did so and dried his hands.

  "What were those gibberish words you were saying?" Capitano hummed.

  "They're acids in the body," she said, "they usually help out with cells, but together they give off a putrid odour of decaying animals and flesh. Although since they aren't accompanied with actual dead flesh they smell simply putrid whereas flesh and decaying flesh is bittersweet in smell."

  "Ew," he icked and almost gagged again.

  "It certainly goes to far extremes for a prank," she said.

  "What did the letter say anyway?" Dottore asked.

  "It was a letter from my troops in Inazuma," he said, "they updated me on the events there."

F/N looked at him and tilted her head, "I don't think that was your troop."

  "Huh?" he raised a brow, "it was- I read it myself."

  "I don't mean to undermine you Scara- you believe what you will," she said, and crossed her arms, "but the Fatui don't have cadaverine of putrescine just handy around. You didn't see any blood or flesh in or on the envelope or letter itself."

They looked at her and she nodded, Dottore blinked painfully, "Sometimes I forget you're actually smart."

They looked at him and frowned, "I took inventory of all of the Fatui's gases, liquids, and solids that I could get a hold of."

She lifted herself on the counter grabbed a heavy binder and placed it in Scaramouche's hands. She flipped some pages and pointed. 

  "If we had it- it would be right there," she pointed, "but it's not there."

He nodded and continued flipping and humming, closing the binder.

  "I'll send another troop to check on them," Scaramouche hummed.

She nodded, "it's toxic in large doses, just to let you know."

He nodded and handed the binder back to her, which she put back and dusted her hands off. He sniffed his hands and looked to the side.

  "Gross," he rubbed his fingers together.

  They went back to his office, F/N and the others practising with Capitano as Scaramouche put in a report. His ears hearing them laugh and chuckle as he worked. Like F/N was having fun without him. He hated it. He put away his papers and sealed the letter with a wax seal. He stood up and closed the box with his quill.

  "I'm going home," he said.

They nodded and F/N looked at Capitano, "Good luck!"

He thanked her and Scaramouche tightened his grip on the letter, F/N followed him and he shoved it into a soldier's chest.

  "Deliver this to my troop in Inazuma," he hissed.

  "Yes, my Lord," he bowed and scurried away. 

Scaramouche put his arms behind his back and F/N shuffled to his side.

  "Slow down-" she grabbed his forearm and he looked at her and narrowed his eyes, looking unamused.

  "Then hurry up," he said and she frowned and let him go.

  "I-I'm sorry then," she whispered and he scoffed.

  They walked home and she began making a soup and meal, Scaramouche sat at the table, flipping a coin and spinning it on the table. The ring and clink of it rang through the house as she was cooking. He looked at her as she wiped her hands on her apron and sighed.

  "It'll be done soon," she looked at him, "I hope you can wait a few more minutes."

He rolled his eyes and she frowned.

  "Yeah-" he hummed.

  She nodded and when it was done, she set the table and placed down the pot of soup. He began laddeling it into his bowl and let out a long sigh. She also brought the beef stroganoff she made. They both sat down to eat and it was a disturbing silence. She didn't want to anger him- she knew he was mad. Tempting and poking him would only get her in more trouble. 

  "I'm done," he said and pushed the plate away, "I'll go upstairs."

She nodded, "Right."

He went up and she continued eating, putting everything away. She went up, seeing him sit on the edge of the bed, still in his uniform and he got up.

  "I'll go take a shower real quick," she whispered.

  He stopped her, an arm going in front of her and hooking around her waist. She looked at him and he looked at her, his cold, brutal, purple eyes staring back at her. Her breath hitched and he blinked lazily.

  "You aren't going anywhere," he whispered.

He quickly turned her to him, her chest pressed against his. 

  "You think I'd just let you go ?" he lowered his head and she shook her head.

  "Good," he mumbled, "you have to get what's coming with you."

  "Huh- what do you mean?"

  "I mean- helping out that idiot coworker of mine, correcting me, touching him, talking to him." he gritted his teeth, "it's like you're begging for punishment to come your way."

She looked up and he let go of her and she wrapped her arms around herself.

  "Wait- Scara," she hummed, "I'm sorry."

  "Sorry won't cut it," he looked over his shoulder, "I need to remind you who you belong to."

  She gasped and he smirked, "I think I have just the idea. After all, your parents don't strike me as the ones to punish you- I mean you lied and practically ran away from them. So I'll do the punishing- I'd like to see you fucking disobey me after."

Her feet shuffled back and he chuckled, "Why are you backing away?"

  "Because- I-"

  "I won't hit you, F/N ," he said, "well- not your face- it's too cute- fortunately for you."

She felt a weight fall off her chest, but gathered again, if he wasn't going to hit her face, where would he hit her?

  "Come here," he said and he sat on his chair. 

  She went to him and he tugged the dress off of her. Pretty pastel blue undergarments hugged and pinched her skin. He looked up at her and her lips quivered. He pulled her waist to him and he pulled her over his lap, her boobs squished to his legs, her ass in the air and her hands gripped the clothes on his legs.

  "Scara?" she looked over her shoulder.

He grabbed her wrists and tied them behind her back and his hand pulled up the waistband on her underwear, stretching it and it rubbed against her painfully and she whimpered.

  "Now- you'll count for me- okay?" he cooed, "don't lose track."

She nodded. He let his hand come down and she let out a yelp.

  "F/N~"

  "O- o-one. . ." she whispered.

He chuckled, "Good girl."

He pulled the elastic higher, it dug between her folds and she hissed. A second hard slap clapped against her skin.

  "Two- AH!" she whimpered.

  He chuckled and saw his hand print begin to redden on her pale skin. He looked as her hair fell over her shoulder and how her thighs clenched together. He continued to lay hard hits on her, his hand not giving up. She counted despite the pain that would course and electrify her skin. She felt tears brim her eyes, he heard her voice choke up and he felt hot tears on his shorts. He narrowed his eyes. Letting another slap come down- her ass already redder than a tomato.

  "What number was that doll?" he asked.

She cried, trying to lower her sobs, he pulled her underwear higher and she gasped, "forty- forty!"

He hummed, "good- I thought we'd have to restart there."

She choked back on her tears. He let her underwear go and he rubbed her ass. 

  "You know- I'm very patient with you," he cooed, looking as her ass dented under his hand, "I take care of you, I love you, and I help you with whatever you want. Maybe I'm too lenient with you- having to go fucking touching and talking to other men. Don't be that kind of whore. No one likes a whore who goes around."

He hummed and rubbed her back, her hands still tied and rubbing against the velvet and he hummed.

  "I think I deserve a thank you," he gripped her painful ass and she nodded.

  "Thank you- thank you Scara," she whispered.

He nodded, "Good, I love a grateful bitch."

She sighed and shook his head, "Don't think you're forgiven yet. I'm still very mad at you."

  She hitched her breath in a squeak and he pushed her to the floor. She sat back on her ankles and looked up at him, he leaned on his knees and looked at her as he intertwined his hands. Her hands clenched behind her. He chuckled.

  "What to do with you," he shook his head, "normally- I'd beat my subordinates into shape."

He ruffled her hair and smiled, "But- you're not my subordinate- and I can't bring myself to fuck up your face- well- beat it up."

  She sighed and looked at him as she heard fabric unthreading and being pulled down. She looked at him and he stroked his partially erect dick. A few strokes and rubs over the tip changed that, he looked at her, so vulnerable below him, kneeling before him. He almost came in his hand like a pathetic schoolboy. He saw her red cheeks and teary cheeks. The precum glazed his fingers and he looked at it with disgust. 

  "Here- clean my hand," he placed his fingers to her lips and she put them in her mouth, sucking them and licking them.

  "Good job," he mewled, "you do listen."

  She nodded and looked at him. He leaned further to her grabbed her neck and pulled her to him, her knees dragging against the carpet and their lips were just a few particles away. His breath fanned over her lips and her mouth opened, his tongue digging straight into it, not waiting. His lips tugged and pulled at her, sucking them and they became a plump red when he was done. He then grabbed the base of his dick and patted it against her cheek, the hefty tip rubbing his precum all over her face and she looked up at him, furrowing his brows. He patted her other cheek and dragged it to her lips.

  "Say 'ah'," he cooed.

She opened her mouth and he placed the weight on her lips and tongue, it made her jaw open a little wider and he smiled.

  "Good job," he grinned, "I might forgive you at this rate."

She nodded, she wanted his forgiveness, she wanted him to be happy with her again. He leaned back.

  "Move," he narrowed his eyes. 

  She did, her best, although it took a lot of energy to pull herself back up and down. Her knee slipped and she fell all the way down, her throat opening to accommodate his girth. He groaned and looked at her. She couldn't pull herself up, she closed her eyes, more hot tears rolling down her cheeks. Her nose squished to his naval and rubbing against it, trying to lift herself.

  "Watching to try and squirm is pathetic," he lifted her hair into a clump and twisted it around his hand, "utterly pathetic."

  He pulled her off and she coughed, gasping for air and he waited, pulling her back down, moving her head as his hips snapped against her. She felt the pressure in her mouth. He let soft groans and ragged breaths drift into her ears, her toes curled and her core tightened painfully. It burned her gut as she watched his eyes close and gasp in pleasure. He looked down at her expression of pain and lovestruckness. His eyes rolled back and he let go of her as a hand went to his mouth and she felt the hot cum come into her mouth. She took it all in, her cheeks expanding like a squirrel. He took a second to compose himself and he looked down at her. She swallowed and opened her mouth and he scoffed.

  "I shouldn't have to tell you you're doing good at something you should be doing good regardless," he patted her cheek and mocked a smile and he hooked a thumb into her mouth and spat in it, "pathetic."

  She closed her mouth over his thumb, a sudden sadness came over her and she suckled his thumb. He looked at her pulled his thumb out and rubbed it over her lips. He cupped her cheek and kissed her, pulling her up to him and kissing her deeply, his tongue running over her cheeks and molars. He got out of his chair and lifted her up by her wrists and she winced at the pain up her arms. He ignored her whines and tossed her on the soft bed. He turned her on her back and he pulled down her underwear, although it was already drenched and dripping in arousal. He looked at her and she rubbed her thighs together.

  "You get off on this, don't you?" he chuckled, "seriously- you surprise me all the time."

  He unhooked her bra and tossed it away. He softly unclipped her thigh garters and ripped her stockings down. Her white ruffled thigh garters remained, she loved them. It was cute and innocent, yet so dirty. He loved it when he caught a glimpse of them when she bent over or walked fast enough where he could see it. He loved the soft silk and velvety texture of it. He let his hands rest on her thighs and he let his fingers gather the slick, watching it slowly drip down his fingers she looked at him and her cheeks and body turned red. He let it rest on his tongue and he grinned, "''s good."

  She felt a sigh overcome her body and he let his thumb travel up to her clit and started rubbing little circles, sometimes jerking over it. His other digits bullied themselves into her, hooking into her and spreading her walls. She whimpered and he looked as she moaned and whimpered, he rested on his other arm, kissing on her chest and stomach. His cold lips sent shivers, making her arch her back to his fingers. They made her burning sensation worsen, but it was not relieved. He pulled away when he felt her clench around his digits. She rolled her eyes back in a sigh. 

  "Wh- wah- what?" she asked and he shook his head and tutted.

  "You don't deserve to cum- you have yet to prove that you deserve my forgiveness," he shrugged. 

She whined and he slapped over her cunt and she squeaked, closing her thighs.

  "Stop fucking whining like a pig, bitch," he narrowed his eyes.

  She nodded and he got on the bed and she looked up at him, her hands still tied behind her back and he forced himself between her legs. Her legs hooked and pulled him closer.

  "Not so fast," he held himself up and pushed her hair back.

  "But- Scara~" she whimpered, "I want you- I want you so bad."

He took in a deep breath shuddering at her desperation.

  "Ugh- FINE!" he snapped and his hips snapped into hers.

  "AH~mhh," her shriek turned into a moan, sucking at her bottom lips as she looked at him.

He grabbed her throat and hummed, "Hold on tight."

  She nodded and he began a ruthlessly fast pace, his thrusts were quick and calculated, some hitting harder and deeper. His only motivation was to get her high, get her so addicted an strip her down from cloud nine. Drag her back and do it all over again. Her beautiful whimpers and moans of his name rang through his ears. 

  "Sc- Scara~" she moaned, he gripped her throat tighter, and she gasped, feeling the blood drift away and her mind go foggy. His thumb squeezed between their bodies and he rubbed and pressed on her little clit. Her moans grew fainter, her breath escaping her. He felt her walls clench tightly on him, almost breaking him. He stuttered, but he looked up and continued, he couldn't let her beat him. She was babbling nonsensical words, and he pulled out. Her tears returned and he chuckled, sitting back up. 

  "Such a fucking cry baby," he gripped his dick and stroked it, his moans rang through the air.

  She watched him with jealousy, she tried to tug her hands out of the binds, but they were on tight. He looked at her. Her legs and core shone with arousal. He drooled at it, so beautiful of a mess. He came in his hand and he looked as the white liquid pooled in his hand and F/N rolled over and pulled herself up and looked up at him.

  "Please Scara," she looked up at him, "please- forgive me~"

  She stuck her tongue out and licked his cum from his hand. Kissing it as she swallowed it all. He was shocked, his eyes wide, his hand which was a white, sticky mess was clean. He looked at her, her lips covered in it and her eyes begging.

  "I can't believe you-" he chuckled, "you act like such a whore for me."

She leaned her cheek on his thigh and he looked down at her. 

  "Do you like it Scaramouche?" she asked.

  "Of course- I want you to whore yourself out to me," he said.

  "Then I'll be a whore for you," she said and he patted her head, "good."

  He laid on his back pulled her pulled her leg over his waist and slowly let her sink down, she hummed and felt a glob of drool run down her chest. He looked at her and then back down. He pulled himself higher on the pillows pulled her body against his and hooked his arm under her leg. He pulled it high and wrapped an arm around her waist. He began his thrusts again, her face contorting in sweet pleasure, feeling the burning sensation all over again. She looked down at him and bit her lip as he continued hitting her. He looked up at her and she rolled her eyes back, she dropped her head and it fell to his shoulder. She placed kisses on his skin sometimes suckling the pale skin to hush her voice. He felt her teeth and lips suckle on his neck, although he couldn't focus because of how tightly she was clenching down on him. He struggled to try and move, but he would just force it. It made her yelp out, so he didn't care. Once again, he let his dick slip out once she was too close to her climax. He felt her pants and tears against his skin and he lifted her cheek and kissed her, pulling her against him. His length sitting between her ass and rubbing against her cunt with every motion.

  "Scara," she cried and her cheek rubbed into his chest, "I can't do another- mh- my- body hurts."

He rubbed her back and she cried again, "Please- I can't do another- forgive me- please- forgive me."

He looked down at her and patted her cheek.

  "If you prove to me you're worth it- then yeah- the next will be the last."

She grew and smiled, "I will! I'll be good for you!"

He hummed and flipped her on her stomach, lifting her hips and letting it slide in slowly. She mewled and he pulled her wrists back, she shrieked as the pain shot up her spine, and his thrusts shook her body. But she really wanted to cum, and feel his seed drip out of her. She took it in, clenching down on him hard. 

  "Mh~ Scara~" she whined, "more- more- ah!"

  "Shut the fuck," he snapped his hips into her strongly, "up."

  She quieted her moans and muffled them against the pillow and he pushed her head down. She felt the stuffy air- she didn't even know whether he was trying to suffocate her or not. He let his fingers scratch and claw at her skin. Leaving long red stripes down her back, and random clusters of him gripping her sides. His thrusts were sloppy, almost as if he was just doing it to get rid of his own accumulating pressure. She tried to reach for his hand as she felt the burning sensation. 

  "Scara!" she yelled and he gritted his teeth, "Hand- ah- ha-ah-nd! Me- hand."

He looked at her hand and saw it trying to grab onto something. He placed his hand into hers and she immediately gripped it tightly and her body shook before falling limp, his own not falling far behind. He caught himself and placed a kiss on the back of her neck. 

  "My little whore," he chuckled, "so eager to please me with your cunt- inexcusable."

She breathed slowly and he grinned.

  "No more fucking talking or touching other men," he shook his head, "you're mine for fuck's sake. You think that imbecile can fuck you like I can?"

  "No," she shook her head.

  "You think Childe can dick you down good?" he snapped.

  "No," she replied.

  "And that fucking idiot Dottore?" he hissed, "you think he can make you cum? Or knows how to? HUH?!"

She looked at him and shook her head on the pillow, "No- he can't."

  "Then don't even fuck dare try to get close to them," he sneered, "this is a warning- alright? Until you find someone better than me, that can protect you and fuck you good- I don't want you to fucking talk to them. And please- look at you- you think you'll get better than me?!"

She closed her eyes, so tired from the denials, "No."

He nodded, "good- then we can agree on that."

He picked himself up and untired her wrists, she let them go to her head and lay against the cool pillow.

  "I'll run a bath," he rubbed her thigh and she nodded.

  He washed himself quickly before her and he went over, already changed and everything. She was deep in slumber and he hummed and put her in the bath. He changed the bedsheets and blankets. Once he did, he went back to her and washed her, cleaning her completely. He placed her in bed and went to clean the bath. He looked in the mirror, seeing blue and purple marks lining his neck. He widened his eyes and felt them, they weren't painful, just irritating. He put away the towel and turned off the light, getting in bed with her and pulling her to his chest. He rubbed her head and back, looking down at her. His fingers rubbed against her neck. He leaned down, his lips suckling and biting her skin. He wanted those same pretty marks on her neck. Marks that everyone knew. He continued, imagining the look on the others' faces once they saw her neck and cheeks lined with hickeys. Beautiful marks, beautiful signs of love. He went to the other side of her neck, continuing to suckle and bite. He sighed and hummed, he'd have to do more next time. He pulled her in again, pulling her leg over his waist and falling asleep. F/N woke up and rolled over, waking Scaramouche and he yawned.

  "Good morning," F/N placed a kiss on his cheek. 

Her hand dragged down and saw the hickeys.

  "Oh goodness," she gasped, "Scara- we'll have to cover those."

  "No," he said.

  "No?" she asked, "but- Scara- what if-"

  "They will see," he said and got dressed, "and I don't care."

She pouted.

  "Scara- please," she got up and he shook his head as he tucked in his kimono.

  "I want to leave them," he said.

  She pouted more and he looked at her glossy eyes. He narrowed his eyes and closed them, "Fine- you can cover them- if you want them gone that badly. I don't have a problem with them though."

  She blushed and she pulled him to the bathroom. He pulled her onto the counter and he stood between her legs, hands on either side of her legs and she wrapped her legs around his waist. She got a small plastic palette and a brush. She pulled and tugged down his shirt collar and she dabbed in the brush and rubbed it over his skin, blending it and they were gone in no time. He wanted to leave, but her legs kept him back. She uncapped a red liner, and held his chin and quickly finished his eyeliner in two quick strokes. 

  "There," she kissed his nose, "all done."

  He thanked her and she touched up her neck too and got dressed. They went to a local bakery to get some pastries for breakfast. F/N held the bag, Scaramouche walking beside her as she talked about whatever good food they had. Scaramouche nodded and felt a pressure approach. He held his hand up and against it came a fruit. F/N gasped and turned around. Scaramouche stopped a tomato from flying into the back of her head.