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Chapter Text

School was never really Scaramouches favourite pastime; the kids were cruel, the work was draining and worst of all, his business just had to be aired out to everyone. His little sister had a problem with scrutinising every little thing he did just to publish it for the whole world to hear. The scariest day of his life was showing up to school the summer after coming out to his family.

He hated school.

That's why he was sitting against an old oak tree instead of celebrating with the rest of his peers for finally finishing school; he couldn't even stand to be in their presence for a mere minute, how could he last another six hours? even if it was the last day he'd ever have to be pulled and dissected by those girls and their assholes for boyfriends. He'd seen how they mocked each other, the games they'd play for seemingly no reason. He'd never loved that, even when he was a girl.

Turning his attention to the now burning feeling in his throat, he realised maybe he was a little thirsty, pushing himself up onto his feet and slinging his bag around his shoulder. Dirt had rubbed off against various parts of his clothes, but he didn't really care; most people in this town hated him anyway. He started down the street to the local petrol station as he listened to whatever Spotify played for him in the background.

Clouds of dark greys and blues swirled overhead, a looming dread settling over the town as rain patterned down in time with his steps.

Skipping school to work may not be the most responsible thing you've ever done, but it beats dealing with the prank you're sure the seniors have concocted (which just leads to no work being done anyway). The shift was piss easy as well, each consumer in and out with haste to avoid the inevitable storm headed on. The only visible window from your seat tucked away in the corner suggested that the storm was about to hit. You could hear the light shower bounce and roll down the walls of the petrol station; nobody had come in for a while, meaning in another 5 minutes, you were clear to take out your phone.

You watched the clock tick down, the world around you shrouded in pitch black as the bolts started to clap through the streets. But before you could slide out your phone, you hear the high-pitched dig of the sliding doors alerting you to the dripping man now entering your work. You cringe at the sight; you can almost feel how cold he is, the water overwhelming his drenched clothes and spilling onto the freshly mopped floor.

He lets out a barely audible breath while shrugging off his hood.

You pause.

"Scaramouche?"

You didn't know him personally, only through his sister. You'd seen him around their house, even having sat across from him at dinner. Though his young sibling was a massive bitch, he didn't seem too bad; a pang of sympathy wash across your body at his state. You could probably guess why he was here instead of school.

He turns his head towards you, his sharp gaze locking on you, the droplets roll down his face. He seems surprised, and you understand why pretty quickly; it's a bit unusual to see your little sister's ex-best friend working at a petrol station underaged. He speaks your name back to you, parroting the tone.

You're surprised he knows your name.

He was older than you by 3 years, a senior while you were still a freshman, and you both seemed to be skipping out on senior prank day. You weren't shocked by this revelation; people at school didn't really like him...well, they did - before he transitioned. Everyone knew about it. Everyone knew about Ei's prized daughter becoming Ei's disappointment of a son (not that considered him her son anyway).

He took a few steps towards you, quickly closing the distance between you two, his dark indigo hair shimmering in the light as it swayed back and forth. You hadn't seen him since you fought with Raiden; you hadn't seen him since you saw his soulmate mark, you hadn't seen him since you realized he was your soulmate.

He called your name again and realized you'd been staring at him.

"Sorry, I-"

You swallow down the lump in your throat; this was too much for a random Friday.

"You're drenched."

He smiles (if you could call it that) and snatches a water from the nearest shelf.

"I didn't notice."

His voice is deeper than you remember; in fact, everything about him is more masculine than you remember. His face was more handsome, his eyes were sharper, his body was stronger.

oh

"Your voice is..."

You trail off, mentally cursing yourself for speaking without thinking. You pray that the heat that settled on your cheeks was only something you could feel and not something he could see.

"It's deeper."

You finish, watching him slide the bottled water along the desk, standing before you.

"It is."

You feel his gaze electrocute you like the cracks of thunder were made by him rather than spiralling clouds. His voice was proud, confident, and he was standing taller too. Not hunched over like he used to be. Your fingers wrap around the bottle, the water left over from his shower outside transferred onto the plastic.

"It's nice...You....look nice"

You wave the barcode against the scanner, registering it into the system. That was bold of you, complimenting him like that; if anyone else were around, you'd be ostracized like he was.

He responds by running a hand through his hair and studying your face, a small smile adorning his doll-like features.

"Thanks."

Digging the cash from behind his phone, he drops it onto the table, trusting you to give him the right change. His smile falters a little, looking you up and down.

"I haven't seen you around in a while. Are you two not friends anymore?"

You freeze; Raiden didn't tell him why we stopped being friends? I was sure she would at least tell him, knowing her she would blame him for our whole friendship group blowing up rather than the fact she was a horrible sister.

"Uhh... no. Not really," you replied, fiddling around with the note as you pulled the change from the resistor, dropping it into his hand. You weren't sure if you should mention that the reason you and Raiden stopped being friends was that you defended him, made an effort to use the right pronouns, and called her out for being a bad sister.

"Mm... I don't like her either," Scaramouche responded, folding his fingers over the change and discarding it into his bag. He had that stupid teasing look on his face that made you want to blurt out everything about being his soulmate.

But you didn't, and you laughed lightly at his joke.

Scaramouche finally broke his stare, glancing around the empty store. The storm raged on in the background, the lightning so loud you couldn't hear him for a few seconds after.

"Mind if I wait out the storm with you?" he asked.

Chapter Text

You blink, his question catching you off guard. 

"Uhh..."

His eyes stare into yours, a drip of water gliding from his hair to his cheek and hanging onto his jaw until it can't anymore. It lightly falls down against the cold floor of the petrol station, the trail of water still visible against his pale skin.

".... Why not?" 

You give him a weak smile, one of which you're sure he could see right through. It's not that you don't want to spend time with him; on the contrary, it's all you've thought about for the last four years you've been in this stupid town. But being around him for an extended period of time (or any at all) made the possibility of him piecing together your soulmate bond way too real. 

The smile that climbs on his face in return almost makes it worth it.

. 

He hadn't seen you in god knows how long, and he's ashamed to admit how much he's missed seeing nervous smiles around the house. It wasn't that he was obsessed with you or anything like that - he only thought of you sometimes, like when he hadn't seen you in a couple of days. He couldn't actually remember the last time you two had a proper conversation; his sister always dragging you away before it could become even somewhat meaningful.

His hands move to rinse out as much water as he can onto the honestly pretty shitty towel that you've provided, but it's better than nothing. His eyes follow your swift movements around the store, mesmerized by the way your body works to clean the mess made by other customers. A laugh bubbles out his throat, more genuine than he's laughed in ages.

"How long have you worked here?" he enquires right before lightning strikes dangerously close to the building, causing your body to physically flinch. The urge to wrap you in his arms shoots through his body

how adorable  

He feels a little strange about his feelings towards you; it's not like he feels this about anyone else, let alone anyone your age. You're so young in comparison to him, it makes him feel like the biggest creep in the world for crushing on you.

Age gaps were a touchy subject for most of the world; your soulmate is quite literally your perfect match in every way. But what happens if your soulmate just so happens to be your student? Or your babysitter? Most say to wait till the other is at least out of school, but others say that it's your soulmate. How is it fair to make them wait to experience bliss?

"About a month," your voice snaps him out of his moral dilemma. He didn't even know if you were his soulmate; it was silly to wonder. He follows your eyes line to the deep grey of the outside world, watching you clutch the bright green Pringle bottles in your hands.

Tapping the metallic register as he rambles on about whatever subject turned out to be a lot more enjoyable than you expected. The way his deep usually cold eyes light up to a more vibrant indigo when he explains the etymology of the word condescending- of which you're sure he doesn't see the irony. 

Your eyes trail his figure, a loose-fitted now partly see-through white shirt with a long-sleeved blank top underneath, various jewellery dangling off parts of his face and neck-

"Are you listening to me or just checking me out?"

Your eyes snap back up to his, cheeks burning from being caught out. He'd always been good at observing, a keen eye as his mother used to say. A teasing smile directed your way along with buckets of shame pouring over him, you're wetter than him- metaphorically. 

He closes the distance between you, resting his palms against the half wall of wood and leaning in. He calls your name, his eyes drifting from your face to the counter. Your lips are pooled down and suddenly the station feels colder inside than out. The silence washes over us like a wet cloth, blurring the lines between outside and inside.

"why aren't you rude to me?" 

Sliding his hands off the table he continues

"Everybody else in this fucking town is- My sister, you're best friend, is. I don't get it"

Air fills your lungs are for a moment you feel that's all you can do. You can't even think to deny his claim. The thunder rages on around us, static electricity beating along with my blood. 

"You are quite literally the only person in....months to treat me with an ounce of kindness- How can you- why?"

His voice cracks, water dripping down his face but he's long since dried off. One thing you hadn't noticed before was just how tired he looked, every part of him looked exhausted, he barely had any energy till he realised it was you. 

you watched him shake, letting the tears roll off his face and crack onto the floor. 

"fuck this is so embarrassing- you probably don't even care"

"Scara"

You speak without thinking, your heart overriding your brain. Every nerve in your body urged you to comfort him, to pull him into a warm embrace and just love him with everything you have. Each minute you spend staring instead of helping your heart shatters a thousand times more. 

He doesn't even look at you, his breath erratic and hollow. 

"I.."

realising you don't have a plan or any idea on how to comfort him, you sit wondering how to ease pain of which you don't understand.  

"I'm not friends with your sister any more"

You blurt out, the words spilling from your throat before you can stop them.

"and...."

Connecting your feet to the ground you lightly push open the gate to the outside shop, his face strained for composure. It would've fooled you again if it weren't for the drops glistening in the overhead lights.

"I do care."

You watch him swallow, your attention diverted for a moment before clicking back.

"cause, even though I don't know you very well and I haven't treated you amazingly in the past, I do know that you seem like a good person. And good people deserve kindness....and shit people have been really cruel to you-"

He cuts you off by tugging you into a bear hug, his arms wrapped around tight enough to shield you from the cold, snaking your arms back around him, you can't help but wonder how different he would be now if you did tell him that night. 

His embrace tells you all you need to know about his thoughts, maybe his tears too. With your hearts pressed together, the bond that you share grows stronger, entangling your very souls together so deeply that not even the mightiest of wills could uproot it.   

All he wanted was to be understood; it didn't take a soulmate bond to understand that. 

Chapter Text

He was an idiot. 

How could he have....just burst into tears with absolutely no build-up? Especially to you?

You were sweet, kind, and probably the most progressive person in this godforsaken town...but you were also young and definitely not properly equipped to deal with his breakdown.

He was just so tired. 

Everyone in his life was so horrible to him, excluding the other 'weird' kids in the town. He was so sick of being called 'young lady' and 'miss'  because he wasn't a miss. He just wanted to be seen by someone who wasn't forced to be nice to him, wasn't a typical 'weird kid', or was completely online. He couldn't quite place why but being around you made him feel....more like a man- in a way. 

When you first entered the town, his family had only been there a year themselves, but you were still quick friends with Raiden, constantly hanging out and staying over...Which meant he saw you a lot. 

He always had a strange sort of... connection, for lack of a better word, to you. It never really made much sense to anyone else, no one understood why you'd follow him around school or sit beside one another at the table. It was just....different with you. Like even back then, before either of you knew what trans people were, you knew he was a man. 

It made him feel guilty.

He wasn't a great person all things considered. He was crushing on a 15 year old, while he was 18.  Even his mother would think he was creepy- if she'd talk to him at all. 

He didn't want you to be tied to him, despite yearning for your affection. He wanted to kiss and hug and hold you...and that's exactly why he's been staying away. 

...He just couldn't understand why it didn't feel gross with you

You glance over at him, eyes slowly running up and down his hunched figure

"You alright?"

You pat a hand on his shoulder, trying to emulate a soothing action a mother might do. His body was curled up against a tree, face shoving into his knees. This time, his hair was soft and bouncy instead of wet and unkept, you're unsure of which you liked more. 

His body jolts, snapping his head up to you and locking eyes. You freeze, you're body stuck by the purple hues in his eyes, the way his hair flows down his face, the two sliver lip piercings. Each feature on his face only serves to enhance his beauty, also making it just that much harder to keep it from him.

He looks almost...scared that you're here or rather, conflicted.

"Oh- Yeah. I'm fine"

His eyes search for a spot to latch onto, eventually settling for his hands; currently fiddling with the strings of his hoodie. Your eyes follow his before gravitating back towards his head, tracing the lines of his hair (you couldn't help yourself)

"...You look a bit...uhhh....troubled"

You take the spot next to him, sacrificing your favourite shorts to maybe spend time with him. Something you've been wanting to do a little too much lately.

He shifts in his spot, not daring to even glance your way.

"It's nothing just...not loving home right now"

oh 

"You wanna talk about it?"

Finally, his eyes meet yours, a look unfamiliar to you flashes across his face. The closest you could describe it to was hopeful- no- realived? Well, whatever it was, it seemed like he wanted to talk.

"And I just- ugh I don't get why they can't at least try to support me!?" 

His face controt's into anger, but he wasn't mad at you, quite the opposite. You were an angel sent from heaven, your worried face broke his heart yet also made it grow three times bigger. You were listening to him, agreeing with him and not 'thinking about their perspective'. He could almost cry if he wasn't so angry.

You nod your head, obviously unable to provide proper support, but you were doing enough listening. He sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair and turning his head back to you, coincidently, you turn your head at the same time. 

All his anger melts away, his muscles relaxing and his heartbeat quickening. shit.  

He was deep in it for this one, his mind playing your interactions on a loop, despite only re-entering your life a week ago. You're all he could think about, he dreamed about you, wondered about you, fantasised about you- not in a weird way. He wanted to be your boyfriend, buy you flowers and talk to you about anything and every time. It was almost criminal how much his heart wanted you. 

You broke your gaze first. 

Your hair sways with you, unfortunately, he only fought a glimpse of your blushing face. He calls your name, desperate to lock eyes for a second more, but his voice falls off, his eyes wandering to the back of your neck.

A dark purple symbol curving out a spire with three wings catches his attention, his heart beating so fast it stops.

"You're my soulmate?"

He whispers out faster than he can stop himself, ecstasy running through his blood, love and passion taking over his one-track mind: kiss her.

Completely oblivious to the inner turmoil in your heart, he smashes his lips onto yours. An overwhelming sense of relief washes over your body. He's not creepy for liking you, you were his soulmate! His soulmate. his. Not raiden's, not venti's, his. And he planned on keeping it that way.

He didn't leave room for protests, he was desperate to love you, for you to love him back. He feels you pull away, but he chases you, your lips smiling against him.

god

he doesn't focus on the words leaving your mouth, moving in for more and more in between each kiss. Your lips were soft and small, cute even. He liked kissing them- he was going to kiss them a lot. 

"Scara-" 

He laughs, a short cute laugh, almost a giggle. His lips remain within kissing distance, not even sure when his hand slides around the back of your head

"What?"

It had gotten dark by now, spending at least an hour venting to you and then another 20 minutes kissing you. He could imagine what he'd do once he got you somewhere private. it's not like you could get pregnant. 

"You can't just kiss someone-"

"you're not someone"

You try and fail at suppressing a laugh, all his restraint thrown out the window as soon as he saw the purple symbol. He's not sure what's better, finding his soulmate or having it be you.





Some part of him wondered how long you'd known or if you'd known at all. He wondered what it would be like if he knew a year ago, two years ago, three years ago, it would be so different. Was it bad that he wished he had you before? To comfort him. He needed you and you weren't there....But it wasn't your fault, you weren't to know. 

Chapter Text

For a moment, you don't know where the hell you are. light seeps into the room through the cracks in his blinds, his chest slowly rising up and down with a sort of peacefulness that seemed almost angelic. In the same second your brain clicks who the random boy is, a wave of memory crashes over you, a tender smile tugging at your lips.

ohh

His fingers tangled into your hair, his head shoved against your neck, in fact, almost every part of him was touching you somewhere on your body. You vaguely remember him refusing to take off his binder before bed, despite complaining about how painful it was...you'd decided against pushing it. 

It was morning, perhaps not as early as you originally thought, but enough for his insomniac ass to stay drifted off. Maybe your presence was helping that...well that's what you like to think anyway. Your fingertip lightly runs over his shoulder blade, silently promising to stay beside him for a moment more, even if your lips ached to feel his against yours once more.

Kissing against his lips, no matter how small, felt like chugging jugs upon jugs of ambrosia. His content face yanked on your heartstrings with all its might, deepening the pit of guilt. But you pushed that aside, opting to cup his face and whisper sweet words- promises you couldn't keep.  

After everything, you were his soulmate, his perfect match. 

Yet you hurt him, even if you didn't want to. 

Everything was easier with you around, your face brightened his whole world- even if others were staring, even if you suddenly got distant. Still, he tugged you along, hand securing yours tightly (slightly afraid you would leave) and grabbing ingredients for whatever meal he had prepared for you next.

"It's Karaage" He corrects once more, a small grin settled gently against his face, you were trying....it was sweet. You nod your head, promising to get it next time- he's not sure he believes you will. 

"Is it fish?"

His finger gestures to the chicken currently sitting in the cart, laughing to himself.

"oh"

The more you wander around the store looking for ingredients- more like substitutes for the ingredients. the more you search for asain ingredients, the more you realise you've only really had one type of food, doing little to move out of that. Stores packed only the basics, half the time running out of sugar or milk and the other half of the time it goes off. You wondered if he missed his old home, and he probably did, people here weren't the nicest to him.   

"They have no soy sauce?"

He whispers, slightly offended by the obviously very horrible thing the store has done.

Raiden had told you a few times about why they moved, something to do with a political scandal back in Japan, but you couldn't get much out of her at the time. You'd realised pretty quickly it's probably why their mother had no soulmate with her. 

speak of the devil. Her voice cuts through your inner monologue, and your gaze flickers to Scara, who's staring intently at a homemade soy sauce video, too lost in the steps to register that his sister was on the opposite side of the shelf. 

Raiden. Oh, how you hated her. Sometimes you felt her only purpose in life was to be a massive bitch- showing little emotional development over the 3 years you knew her, being a spoilt little brat and despising your older brother so much you refuse to support him.

Scara drops his hand for yours, a frown tugging on his perfect lips, almost begging you to talk to him. It's only now you realise you are frozen at her voice, panicked at the thought of someone else knowing about your relationship. You prayed he didn't know. But you know he did. 

The chicken ended up being fantastic despite his mostly at-home ingredients, he knew it was, especially from how quickly you downed the full plate. A smile pulled at his lips, although his mood was still preventing it from growing. Watching your soulmate deny your existence would do that to someone. He pulls off his shirt, eyes running over the figure facing him in the mirror.

Slowly unclipping his binder, the instant relief he felt was overshadowed by the sheer amount of disgust he felt as his own body. He wasn't full by any means, his breasts only a B or an A...but that didn't stop the fact that they were breasts. Eyes circled the area, imagining what it'd feel like to be born a man, to have a flat chest without wearing a binder- to be able to not wear a shirt at the beach. 

He wanted to be a proper man for you. One that you felt proud to hold hands with in public. Admittedly, he wanted to have a penis- to have biological kids with you, and potentially...have sex with you. Although he hated the view of his body, his cheeks burned at the thought of having...'it' with you. You were way too young, way way too young...and he wanted to have a dick by then.

He would provide for you fully by then, he had to. 

Your shirt lay disregarded across his floor, the only remanence that you'd slept over the night before, slowly fingers curling around the fabric he pulled it over his head. It was way too feminine for him, but he couldn't help but smile a little.

It smelt like you. 

Chapter Text

His expression soured, eyes meeting with his younger sisters.

"Scara"

Her voice cuts through the air, sounding all to much like their mother. She has this look on her face- one that makes him think she's up to no good.

"Why are people saying you're her soulmate?" 

It wasn't exactly a surprise that people knew, he certainly hadn't tried to hide it- god knows you did though. Scara's head thuds against the door frame as he leans against it, thankful his mother hadn't attempted to bring the traditional Japanese decore over like they had in there old house. Maybe she was trying to start a new life here, although he was pretty sure that'd come as a surprise to even her. 

Raiden's clearly mad, considering her eyebrows are furrowed just the tiniest bit perhaps he should've actually been scared.

"So what?"

He steps forward, making her step back, gently closing his door behind him. He didn't really feel like waking you up again, knowing you'd just deny any kind of relation to him. Again. 

"So what? Mum already thinks you're a disappointment, what do you think she'll do when she finds out you're a lesbian?-"

"I'm straight"

He spits, tired of proving himself to her, it's not like she'd ever change her mind. Something flashes across Raidens face, almost like... jealousy. His first instinct was for his face to soften and his hand to cup her face, promising to make things right. Like he used to. But she'd lost those privileges long ago. 


"Fine. Whatever you are. Why her? Why do you insist on taking everything that's mine?"

Now this made him pause, 'hers'? She was referring to you?... His soulmate. Not hers. How could she ever be Hers? They were never dating, yes they were good friends...but as far as he knew they were never anything more than that. Unless...

"What does it matter to you if she's my soulmate?"

Scaramouche held his head high, his voice low and serious. He would not give up the one person he cared about. Even if she was embarrassed by him. fuck he'd be embarrassed by himself too. 

He could tell by the look on Raidens face, or rather, this visceral reaction to the words 'my soulmate' strung together in reference to you, that she did not just see you as a friend (ex-friend now).

He pressed a kiss to your neck, his arms hooking underneath yours and pulling you up into his chest. You were barely awake, even when he threatened to superglue your eyes open. A light smile plays on your lips, your head dropping onto his shoulder as you yawn, his fingers fiddling with your hair.

"You have to go to school" 

Scara whispers into your ear, his hand cascading down to your lower back, he was never shy about touching you..in fact, he'd let his hand ghost a little too close to your underwear one too many times to be innocent.

"Don't give me that look"

You roll your eyes, the pads of cold his fingers trailing up your spine, making you shiver just a little.

"...you'll drive me, right?"

He smirks and presses your lips to his, his hair brushing the side of your face...that was definitely a yes. 


Unfortunately for you, this meant you actually had to go to school now, even if you were already 2 hours late. He basically changed you into your uniform, tied your shoes and fed you breakfast- for someone who skipped more the 50% of school days he was intent on making you go. 

The car ride was short, and the roads were clear, but you knew it meant a lot for him to be dropping me back to his old high school. You used to see him hidden in the corner of the library, hood up and earbuds in, almost every day after it came out. He was popular before- mostly due to the fact he was incredibly pretty and not his snarky personality. He was still pretty....but he probably wouldn't want to hear that.

He used to glance up at you as you passed him, silently hoping you'd come and sit by him, or at least that's what you thought that look meant. Scara was a bit hard to discern sometimes.

He'd changed a lot since that night at the petrol station, he'd softened...yet hardened at the same time.

When your fingers would be intertwined, his thumb would rub your hand and stare at you like you had thousands of different complexities, like you were the embodiment of love and hope. And perhaps, to him, in some ways...you were. 

But when Scara's eyes would blink back to reality, the fuzziness in his head clearing away, he'd scowl at a dog trying to walk across the road, he looked furious at the world, at everything and anyone who wasn't you. 

Scara's hand tilts your head towards him, he'd parked right outside the front of his school, a school that you knew he hated to see. His lips met yours once more, and you're quickly reminded why he was your soulmate. 

Chapter Text

Unconcerned with the world around you, your eyes lazily read over the text- a book you'd forgotten to read in favour of doing anything but. But unfortunately, fate has to catch up with you eventually. 

You'd hidden yourself off to the corner of the library, hoping to be unbothered by the growing number of questions people keep bombarding you with...mostly about Scara. Your friends were...nice enough, they didn't ask many questions, but you told them anyway. It's not like you were ashamed...hahahhaahaha

Despite your hardest efforts, Macbeth just...wasn't drawing you in, blah blah blah, stab that guy, blah blah, blah witches. It's draining.

Luckily for you, the sound of books dropped beside you pulled you out of your zombie-like state.

Unluckily for you, it was Raiden. 

"What are you doing here?"

Your voice came out...harsher than you meant it, but it was simply indicative of your feelings inside. With everything that happened between her and Scara- and her and you of course...You couldn't help but hate her. 

"What? Can't sit at a table in the library?"

Her voice was lower than you remember, she definitely looked older too- not that you cared, her makeup skill had improved as well...Not that it matters. UGH. Why do you feel like this around her? you want to her to like you desperately, even back when you were best friends. The whole time you were just changing yourself for her- doing what she wanted.

"No. Not next to me"

Your words were simple, flat, if not slightly desperate to come off as unbothered- no, above her. Like you didn't care. And you didn't, you couldn't. To prevent your words from sounding as fake as they felt, you snap your book shut and start to pack up your things.

"Wait-"

Raidens voice sounded more distraught than you were used to, her eyes laced with a certain heaviness you couldn't quite make out. It's something her and Scara had in common, you could never really tell what they were really thinking.

"wait. Just hear me out, please?"

Sighing, you place your book back down, sliding back into the booth beside her, readily with an escape plan and an annoyed look.

"What's this about?"

She shifts uncomfortably, her purple hair falling over her cheeks before quickly pushing it back behind her ear.

"It's about Scara-"

You grab your book once more but she grabs your hand before you can fully leave.

"Wait, please!"

She begs, staring deep into your eyes, her fingers intertwining with yours...like she used to and fuck...you had a type. She whispers a small 'thank you' once you drop your book back down again. You pull your hand away from hers, you weren't friends anymore (or whatever the fuck you two were..)

"spill it"

Raiden's eyes dart around the room once more, her hands stilling in her lap as she breathes in deeply

"Are you two...actually soulmates?"

She observers your face, the hesitation in your features, and she relaxes slightly

"He's- she's just saying that to annoy me, right?" 


Huh?


Did she just slip up right now?



Anger rushes through you and before you can think to consider your words or the potential problems that come with it, you blurt out-

"Scaramouche is my soulmate. Tell everyone, I don't care"

Chapter Text

Originally you'd invited Scara to your house for a change because you didn't want to bump into a certain sister of his, although he seemed to take the fact that you two were home alone for the entire night and ran with it.

At first, it was...cute, a normal couple of things- like cooking dinner and making tiktoks that are forever banished to your drafts, just so you can look at them when he's not around. But as quickly as you settled into bed for the night, for the first time ever you two were allowed to sleep in your bed at the same time, Scara's hands started to...wonder.

You were watching a movie, nothing especially erotic, just another romcom with the same five actors. Scara claimed he wasn't tired and insisted on sitting up, although you could tell it wasn't his insomnia keeping him up.

At first, it was simple, his arm snaking around for shoulders, twirling your hair around his fingers and pressing soft kisses to your head. Then he travelled downwards- again, not that strange, his hand would sit on your waist or hip all the time. You always assumed it was a subtle sigh of possessiveness, to prove to everyone that he did find someone that loved him. him. not her. 



then his fingers slipped under your shirt...and suddenly it clicked why he seemed extra eager to come over after finding out your family wouldn't be there. It wasn't just to sleep in the same bed as you'd assumed. 


Scaramouche chuckles softly at your expression, his fingers dancing up your shirt.

"What's with that face?"

Your head turns to meet his, heart pounding in your chest so loudly you could barely hear his question.

"What's with your fingers?

Scara's nose brushes yours as his fingers cup one of your breasts in his hand, his gaze running over your features; your blush, your eyes, your lips. He couldn't help but thank God for just how...perfect his girlfriend was.

"You're so cute"

In a swift move, he (safely) pushes away the computer and flips on top of you, his face instinctively hiding away into the crook of his neck.

"Do you trust me?"

Soft, but raw, his fingers hovered beside your figure, itching to explore your delicate flesh. But he wouldn't do it unless you wanted it, and it was his (not so) subtle way of asking that.

"yes"

You whisper, a gentle breathy laugh escaping your lips. (He dared to call you cute when he looked like that.)

At your confirmation of consent, he wasted no time shoving down your shorts, his lips roughly kissing along your neck- aiming to leave some..'small' marks. You suck in a breath harshly, your hand intertwining with the strands of his hair, gently tugging on the dark blue locks. Scara's teeth brush your collarbone and gently gnaw along the exposed skin, breaking only when you shift beneath him

Carefully, his fingers wrap around your thighs, massaging the plush with gentle squeezes every few moments, sitting back up to admire your figure lying in front of him. 

"how much have you touched yourself"

Scara's blunt words catch you off guard, forcing a choked laugh from your throat and a whole new fire burning up to your cheeks. Although from his raised eyebrow you can tell he's expecting an answer.

"I..."

Puffing your lips and rolling your head back in your bed, you finally mutter out an answer

"Like...twice a week"

With a small hum of acknowledgement, Scara starts to draw your underwear down your thighs, pressing his lips just below the skin of your belly button. Instinctively, you clench your thighs together, trying to draw his focus to another part of your body. You weren't ashamed but...were you too young for this?

"Don't hide from me"

The sound of his voice made your heart clench painfully, he sounds so...needy. So needy for you- for your body..and who were you to deny him..

Scaramouche pushes your legs apart, and a small smirk forms at your shyness, and how your hand was clamped over your mouth- something that you don't even remember doing..fuck when did you start gripping onto the bed sheets that hard? He hasn't even touched you yet.

Although conveniently, while your mind was temporarily distracted, his thumb started to rub small circles into your clit at an agonizing pass, was he trying to fuck with you? Your hips jolt at the movement, obviously, you've rubbed your clit before but you controlled that, the pase of the stimulation wasn't 'up for debate'.

suddenly you feel his index finger running along your folds, gathering the slick on his digits and it suddenly hits you that Scaramouche isn't just a man who's good with his fingers, he's good with his fingers because he knows what feels good.

Oh god, you're so fucked.

Teasingly, Scara's finger pushes past your opening, just down to his nail. He's almost surprised by the whine you let out. almost. Slowly, just surly, Scaramouche pushes his entire finger into your vagina, watching as his finger just...disappears into your body.

Obviously, he's touched himself before, a pathetic amount of time towards you, but giving someone else that pleasure? give you that pleasure? He'd never have to touch himself again if he could forever just watch how your slick coats his hand, how your walls clench around the unfamiliar intrusion. Even just watching how your face converts could make him cum in his pants.

Scara sticks to two fingers while fucking you, while three would work- but it was a little hard to work with- especially when he wanted to make you cum as fast as possible. Just to see if he could do it. Your walls tighten around his fingers, hips jerking with each thrust of his wrist, needy- whiny noises escape your lips without control. Fuck you were never loud by yourself.

"ngh-fuckfuck Scara! Scara-"

Your voice cracks, back arching off the bed as he works his fingers into you, a soft bliss washing over your upper thighs and hips. You whine and beg and plead, and just as quickly as it came, your orgasm crashes. Your lips flutter as he works you through your climax, rolling your hips with each movement of your hand, chest heaving up and down.

Although he missed out on a climax of his own, knowing that he could make you finish in less than 2 minutes was good enough...especially when you let him lick up the finish, he almost tempted to eat you out right then and there- but clearly you were puffed.

It's fine, he will work with you on your stamina another day. 

For now, he'll settle with wrapping his arms around your body and pressing his face into the back of your neck, smiling softly as his nose brushes against your soulmate mark. He's just glad you'd forgotten about your talk with Raiden...

Chapter Text

A pen taps against your classmates' table every few seconds, although the silence that echoed around the room somehow irritated you more. All eyes were locked on you, naturally, word had gotten around. You weren't exactly surprised, Raiden proved herself to be a lying convincing bitch- this just solidifies that.

Haziou, a guy in the year above you, takes a seat beside you. 

"Are you really Scaramouche's soulmate?"

Son of the police captain, what a useless job around here that would be. The only reason people even cared about your situation because the last interesting thing that happened around here was the divorce of his parents.

Your classmate's eyes lock onto the pair of you; nobody has shame around here. No. That'd be much too nice for a shit town like this.

There was really no point in lying to him; people would believe it no matter if I denied it or not.

"Yep."

The tapping pauses, and your eyes divert towards the board in front of you. You'd only been in detention roughly 30 minutes and it weren't as though you found yourself in detention much, yet this particular day was driving you up the wall. Heziou eyes you up and down, seemingly surprised by this revelation.... Because of course, he was

"Really?"

Your back straightens, every little muscle in your body tensing, whipping your head around with such force that you make the red-haired man jump. Maybe Scaramouche was rubbing off on you. 

"I just mean, he's...you know. He has pericings, and..."

Haziou's green eyes lock onto yours; however, his gaze is full of genuine confusion, rather than the usual judgment. You were well-liked enough for the look of sympathy in his eyes to perhaps come from a place of kind-hearted ignorance rather than bigotry, especially coming from someone as kind as Hazious....and yet all it did was tend to the fire,

Scaramouche can be a bit arrogant, vindictive, cynical- you could go on. But part of you liked his cold nature, the front he put on for others. After years of being nothing but nice it was well, nice, to forget about others' feelings for once and perhaps focus on your own. It wasn't your problem if other people just didn't see him as the caring, honest and witty man he is; they couldn't see past his exterior. I suppose you couldn't really blame them for that, though.

"Percings doesn't make someone a bad person. What kind of thinking is that? It's not the fucking dark ages."

You go quiet, every cell in your head begging you to shut your mouth for once instead of listening to your stupid heart. You knew Heziou was a good guy, but you couldn't help but be guarded. He was the son of the police captain; you wouldn't be surprised if he became the next one, and you didn't really want to be on the police captain's bad side. 

If you're still here.

Hazious cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing, before letting a puff of air out of his lips. His eyes joined yours on the whiteboard as you both pretended the entire class wasn't listening in.

"I don't want to be a dick", He started, his knee jumping under the table "But you guys don't really seem like the perfect match."

You couldn't help the way your heart clenched or your throat tightened. You didn't need or want his approval, yet it kinda hurt to not have it.

"You're so kind, and he's just- such a fucking asshole. Okay, maybe I am being a dick now, but what I'm trying to say is one of you is going to change a lot, and I really hope it isn't you."

The worst thing about living in a small town is that even the people you don't know that well are your childhood friends, so even though you could pretend he barely knew you at all. The fact is, he knew you a whole lot better than you liked to think.

It rained pretty heavily on your way home from school today. Scaramouche couldn't pick you up cause he was picking up his order for the local post office. The local post office is not that close and is around an hour away, so you were subjected to walking in the rain. By the time you arrived home, you were drenched from head to toe, your mother gave you one look over and banished you to the bathroom. She brought you a change of clothes, though, which is nice.


Considering the amount of shit thrown at you today, yesterday, and the day before that, it felt great for it to finally be Friday. Friday meant no school till Monday, plus you only had one shift at the petrol station on Sunday afternoon. Maybe you'd call in sick. 


You flopped on your bed, tucking yourself into the copious amounts of blankets and pillows you had, and you let the rain lull you to sleep.


By the time you woke up, Scaramouche was cuddled up right next to you, pressing you right between him and the wall. He brushed your hair away from your eyes, his forehead dropping against yours in a way you recognised as a plea for a kiss.

"Hi Baby"

His whisper, his voice raw and throaty, you could barely hear it over the store crashing overhead. It reminded you a little of the night you guys first met again. Scara's hair was slightly damp, clinging to his neck and forehead, and he was clearly freezing. At least his skin was. The point of his nose brushed against the curve of your own, before sliding down to move his lips to yours ever so softly. His lips were freezing, too.

Your room was dim, the shadows hiding any distinct colour in his eyes, yet you knew them so well you could tell they were a slightly darker colour than usual.

"HI, stranger"

He pushed his lips to yours a little harder once more, although you could feel him smiling into the kiss.

"Stranger, really? And I had the audacity to call you my soulmate"

You didn't really understand how others didn't see him like this, how they couldn't see the light that radiated from his every action like you did, the almost boyish desperation for you to like him.

He was also just really, really, realllyyy cute to you.

telling him about your day went about the same as usual, his nose shoved into your hair and his arms cupping each one of your breasts. You didn't really think about it much these days, before you used to get all embarrassed, and he'd laugh and give you a small bite to annoy you just a little. But no. Nowadays, you kind of just let him do what he wants with your body.

However, It wasn't most days that he started telling you about his.

"I went to the park today"

He started, earning a soft 'yeah?' in return.

"And just like, out of nowhere, Xiao went up to me and had like a fucking chat? Like all people, Xiao? I mean, he was always pretty reserved and didn't make an effort before I even came out. And now, out of nowhere, he invites me to go to a bar with him. Bizzar."

Of all the times he's made you smile today, this one probably felt the best.

"And?"

You questioned him a lot, which he didn't seem to mind usually, yet he somehow managed to bury his head deeper into your shoulder.

"And what?"

Muffled, soft, you knew he was nervous just from this. He liked to hide when vulnerable; he hid in your neck, he hid in your thighs. He liked to use your body to hide what he couldn't suppress on his face. It made you melt a little.

"Are you going to go?"

He hesitated before answering, inching his face away from your skin to respond properly. 

"I'd like to. I think."