Hi, I'm Lyx! I enjoy writing fanfictions (but I suffer from procrastination so most of them stay as wips 💀. I'm working on it tho). I mainly write about my bbg Scara most of the time so the fics I post will be about him. Moved from @lala-lyx.
I mainly write fluff and some angst. For more explicit stuff, I do add warnings and tags so be sure to read them first before proceeding with the fic.
Feel free to request stories if you'd like although there's a chance it'll take me longer to finish them. Sorry about that 😔.
[One-shots]
Quarrels and Quiet Confessions - scaramouche x gn!reader
Your hips, Your thighs, You've Got Me Hypnotized - kazuha x gn!reader
pairing: kazuha x gen!reader
tags: birthday sex, oral sex (giving), riding, creampie, submissive top Kazuha, power bottom reader, (implied) multiple rounds, might've wanted an excuse to write Kazuha whimpering 👉👈
a/n: guess who rose from the dead? Me. Happy Halloween everyone! This was a request from a friend of mine and honestly? I kinda missed writing. It's really fun trying to explore other characters to write. Though I am a bit rusty in writing smut. This is for Kazuha's birthday. Yes I know, I am two days late. But I am working on a possible Flins fic and a small (late) Halloween fic.
artist: nnnmaru_ on X
"Um…Love? Is this really necessary?"
Kazuha mumbles, a current of hesitation engulfing his voice. Yet there was a quiet undertone of a certain emotion that blends with it—eagerness, perhaps? He tugs on his hands, unable to escape the grasp of the handcuffs that restrain him. The more he wrestles with it, the more the metal bites his skin. The ronin’s eyes flick towards you, his beloved partner who coaxed him into this slightly-ideal-slightly-not situation. Sitting at the edge of your shared bed, shirt discarded somewhere on the floor.
Your hypnotizing grin has him subconsciously squeezing his thighs; your swaying hips serve as a testament to his self-control. You lower his birthday cake on a nearby nightstand—your quiet chuckle a resounding sound in the room.
“Oh, it’s very necessary,” you respond, swiping a thumb over the white frosting. You swivel to approach him, steps lightly thumping against the wooden floorboards. Each thud synced with Kazuha’s heartbeat, heat stoked from the building anticipation coursing through his body. You brush the icing against his lower lip at a deliberate pace.
“Need you to be a good boy for your very special birthday gift.”
Kazuha was quick to act. He licks his lower lip, tasting the bloom of saccharine from the frosting. His tongue grazes against your thumb. "How did you even get handcuffs?"
You hum, your hands caressing his cheek before steadily dragging down to map the area of his chest. It sent a jolt of pleasure to the ronin, a soft gasp emitting from his throat. “Heizou gave it to me. Told me to use it to spice things up," you mischievously nipped his earlobe before whispering, “Even gave me ideas on how to… utilize it properly.”
Kazuha shivers at the blow of your breath against his ear, his body flinching in response. His hands clash with the handcuffs once more, the icy gnaw a constant reminder that he’s a dog on a leash. Except the leash is bound to his wrists, and there’s a slight possibility he might be into this. “L-Love, I still think—”
"Shhhh," you press a finger against his lips before pushing him down onto the bed. "Like a sinner to its sin, let me worship you. Let me show you the devotion you deserve. So just sit back and enjoy, birthday boy."
Kazuha’s mind shuts down, a blank canvas just for you. Your hands, your lips. Your hips, your thighs. You got him hypnotized. With you as the artist, each one is designed to paint. To stain that canvas with varying degrees of pleasure. He tenses when you press an open-mouthed kiss against his throat, your hands gliding up and down his arm.
Oh, how badly he wants to touch you too. But with his current restrictions, he could only squirm pathetically. To beg you using his body. To have you touch him more. Your lips descended further down his chest, his breath catching when you sweep past his nipple. You meet his gaze, a spark of amusement gleaming in your eyes. Like you enjoyed watching him writhe underneath you.
You probably do, don’t you?
Kazuha opens his mouth, wanting to voice a question—or words of praise…
Only for your lips to latch onto his nipple, sucking and biting it lightly. A low, repressed groan slips past his parted lips. Archons, you were way too good at this.
“Mng… Love…”
You release his nipple with a pop, giving it one last lick before continuing your journey downwards. Kazuha exhales a shaky breath. A path of soft kisses trails down his stomach, stopping by his V line. You pause before pressing your lips against the scars that carved his skin. He closes his eyes, a fervent ardor of both arousal and affection grappling him by the throat.
You smirk at him, tracing a particular stripe with your tongue. “I like your scars, you know?” A stripe of saliva glistens against Kazuah’s skin. “I don’t know if you feel insecure about them, but I really do like them.”
Before the ronin can parry your words with his own, you push his thighs open. His eyes snap open, zeroing in on you. He inhales frantically when he catches sight of you teasingly pulling his zipper down using your teeth. “Oh… Oh, archons—” Kazuha mutters under his breath, his aching cock bulging through his underwear. You lightly tap against it.
“Lift your hips,” you instructed, a gleeful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.
Kazuha obeys promptly, and you slide down both his pants and underwear before tossing them somewhere in the room. “Good boy,” you mused. Your hands lightly stroke his cock, causing Kazuha to shudder. He doesn’t know how long he can hold out with you teasing him like this.
“Mng… Please—"
You press your tongue on his tip to silence him effectively. He choked out a low moan, the handcuffs rustling against the linen. His hands scramble to find purchase against the sheets as your tongue dips into the slit. A wet drag of your tongue over the shaft has him biting back a groan. He always wondered how you were this good at satisfying him. How you seem to know what spurs him on and on.
"A-Ah... Mmph..."
Kazuha whimpers as your mouth covers his head. He moves his hips, a desperate attempt to push his cock deeper into your throat. You pulled back and pushed his hips down.
"Ah ah ah, don't move."
Your voice was soft but commanding. Kazuha whines in protest but obeys, like the good boy that he is. He lowers himself reluctantly. He was always so obedient when it came to you. As a reward, you took more of his cock inside your mouth. It slides down your tongue and deeper into your throat. You gag, he moans your name. You hold onto his thighs to ground yourself. "Y-You feel so good, love…"
You hold that position for a few seconds before withdrawing to allow yourself to catch your breath. You repeat that motion. Again. And again. Kazuha’s moans grew louder, and he couldn’t help the subconscious buck of his hips. His hands jingle the handcuffs. He wants it off. Now. He needs to tug on your hair, to—
He snapped when you abruptly pulled away.
The ronin almost loses his mind at the loss of pleasure. He whines, hips stuttering to try to chase it. You chuckle, licking your lips to wipe the pre-cum off.
"Relax, birthday boy. We're not done yet."
“Love—”
You toss your shirt away.
Kazuha was dumbfounded. Your pants came next, the fabric pooling at your feet. You sway your hips, pulling your underwear down in the process. He swallows, sucking in his breath. He wasn’t expecting to be rewarded with such an enticing display. “You…” he trails off, “You look as beautiful as ever.”
You grin, sauntering towards him. “Thanks.”
You climbed onto the ronin’s waist, grinding your ass against his throbbing cock. Kazuha gasps and rolls his hips forward. “Ah… Don’t be a tease…”
You quietly laugh before leaning in. Your chests press together, the sensation heightening the electric tension blanketing you two. You lick his lower lip, and Kazuha opens his mouth consequently. You push your tongue in—lips crashing in a sloppy kiss. Your teeth clash. His tongue meets yours. The ronin gasps against your lips as you slip the tip of his cock into your hole, his eyes rolling back as your walls squeeze against him.
"Hng..!"
You pull back slightly, a string of saliva connecting your lips. There was also some drool rolling down Kazuha’s chin. You let out a shaky breath as you slowly lower yourself until your hips are pressed flush against each other.
“Kazuha…” you moaned. The sound stimulates the ronin further, increasing his arousal. “Love…” he groaned, bucking his lower half against you.
You move, lifting your hips up and down. It was a steady pace, each thrust gratifying the tormenting heat between you two.
But not all of it.
Kazuha wanted more. He wants to grab your waist and pull you harder against him. To guide you in a pace that would have you screaming his name. To make sure he relishes his birthday present to the fullest.
"F-Faster...," Kazuha’s voice a broken whimper,"Please..."
You obliged, riding him faster. Your inner walls squeeze and release. He loses his mind. "Mm..! Just like that..!"
The ronin jerks under you, biting his lower lip as he pants. "Am close—"
A wicked grin creeps up your face. Your pace slows down. Then you fully stop. The absence of stimulation has Kazuha whining desperately.
"W-Why’d you stop..? Keep moving”
You shake your head. “And if I don’t want to?”
Kazuha groans in frustration. “Please don't stop, love. I was so close…”
"You wanna come? Beg for it.”
Kazuha gasps. The idea of begging was somehow both degrading and exciting. He speaks in a hushed tone, “Wanna cum…”
“Louder”
“I want to cum..! Let me cum, let me cum, let me—"
You hum, circling your hips to grind against his cock. “Good boy. And what's the magic word?"
Kazuha's response was instant. He babbles, his dignity long gone and buried. "Please please please please—"
A grin crosses your face. You indulge him, speeding up as he moans loudly. His grip on the sheets tightened as he arched his back.
"Yes yes yes…! C-Coming..!"
You still as Kazuha cums inside you, his seed filling you to the brim. You moan in unison as you orgasm too. Your combined fluids spill from your hole, leaking down your things and onto his pelvis. Kazuha pants, his mind muddled from the intense pleasure.
Yet he felt you start stirring already. The ronin's eyes snap open as he whimpers, "Nghhh... Love w-wait—"
You don't wait. You lean in, thumb brushing against Kazuha’s lower lip. You fasten your pace before pressing a long and slow open-mouthed kiss against the other. The ronin melts, swiftly returning the same fervor and passion. When you pull back, you meet his gaze and whisper against his lips.
tags: fluff, a bit of smut, is bathroom fucking exhibitionism?, i think?, just some silly thoughts
a/n: sorry guys I haven't been posting 😔. I just started uni last week and i ended up shifting lmao so I had a lot in my hands. I'm also starting to get used to my schedule (since I'm considered a late enrollee I have a shitty schedule AHAAHAHAH). I have lots of vacant times so I'll try to get back to posting again. Felt a bit freaky writing this tbh. Thank you for being patient with me!
sfw:
• drummer! scaramouche who isn't very open to the idea that your relationship with him should be written in every article, in every Twitter post. as a result, only a handful of people know you're dating him. that includes your friends and his bandmates.
• drummer! scaramouche who prefers alone time with you. it's very intimate for him and he just likes you by his side. so consider yourself a regular at his band's practice sessions
• drummer! scaramouche who gives you vip tickets so he can see you everytime he's on stage and vice versa. he'd catch you giving him an encouraging smile and the corners of his lips twitch upwards too. a small smile reserved for the person his heart is drumming too.
• drummer! scaramouche who reaches his breaking point when he saw someone flirting with you from your seat. He bangs the cymbals and rolls his eyes, muttering something along the lines of "my hand slipped". excuses. he just doesn't want you getting whisked away by someone else.
• drummer! scaramouche who now has you as his personal hair stylist all because you tied his hair once. that was a mistake. now he demands you do it for him every time they have a show. Venti abuses this fact and often bribes you to style his hair in crazy, coquette hairstyles. he doesn't touch them though despite grumbling about how he hated it.
• drummer! scaramouche who also has you painting his nails. you painted it with your eye color and he had liked the color on him ever since. he wouldn't accept any other color. he does yours too. so enjoy your new indigo colored nails.
nsfw:
• drummer! scaramouche who kisses you whenever you're backstage. when their band takes a break, he goes backstage to pull you in for a sloppy kiss. you end up making out for the entirety of his break
• drummer! scaramouche who either fucks you like it's the only way he's going to continue living or he would worship your body like it's the archon's themselves.
• drummer! scaramouche who had tried to "match" the beat once. you had asked about it out of pure curiousity. he agreed reluctantly. in the end, you came to a conclusion. drummers sure do have an advantage
• drummer! scaramouche who either degrades you or praises you. depends on his mood. though you know which buttons to press to catch him in a certain mood
"you think this is funny?"
scaramouche growls lowly as he has you pressed against the bathroom wall.
you had been a victim to one of Venti's bribery once more and had tied his hair in a simple ponytail. but you added a twist. a bright red ribbon was placed on top, it's frills swaying with each beat of the drum.
you deemed it a playful prank, he deemed it worthy of punishment.
immediately after the show, scara brought you to a nearby stall and locked the door.
"you thought you could get away with this?"
he murmured against your ear as he bit your earlobe. he had you up against the wall, hands squeezing your hips, and was pulling you back to meet his thrusts. his cock buried inside you over and over again, the pleasure sending jolts of electricity under your skin.
"Ngh— Sorry I just— Ah..!" you blabbered, forehead resting against the wall. he doesn't let you speak. he silences you by pulling all the way out until only the tip remained, before slamming deep inside you. you can't help but scream in pleasure, your stomach bulging a bit because of his cock. he cuts off your moans by pressing a hand against your mouth as he holds that position, grinding against you.
"shut it slut. they'll hear us"
you don't get another word out as he started thrusting again. he fucks you with a steady rhythm, but his thrusts were hard and directly against your sweet spot. he knows that spot religiously, and he knows how to abuse it too.
your eyes rolled back, head thrown back too and was resting against his shoulder. it was such a fucking turn on for him. your muffled moans were also adding more fuel to the fire. he tightened his grip around your mouth. "fuck you feel so good" he groaned, moving his hips faster. your walls tightened around him, yet you couldn't voice your incoming orgasm. you're vision turned white as you cum, your nails raking against the bathroom wall. scara doesn't stop moving. he keeps fucking you hard through your orgasm. he bites into your neck, leaving an indention of his teeth on your neck.
"we're not done yet", he grumbles. "we'll keep going until you learned your fucking lesson".
divider is by @cafekitsune and art is by illa.ohara
"You're so annoying"
"Yeah? I prefer to call it being persistent"
synopsis: the first call was a mistake. and so was the second. scaramouche was this close to exiting this godforsaken app. but then your name popped up. and the photo of you holding up some stupid cat. definitely not cute. before he can catch himself, he's already clicking "answer".
oh well, third times a charm right?
pairing: scaramouche x gen!reader
warning: casual swearing, lightly suggestive if you squint your eyes, multiple characters smoke
tags: modern au, online dating, usage of an app somewhat similar to omegle, fluff, some angst here and there, mild chatfic, heavy pining, scara is called kunikuzushi
status: pending...
a/n: if you saw this before, no you didn't lmao. anyways, yooooo first ever scara fic series?? i'm actually very hyped and excited for this. been wanting to do some sort of series for a while now. i will try to post a new chapter every week btw, possibly every sunday. could post double chapters if i finish them early. anyways, sorry for making y'all wait <3.
pairing: scaramouche x gen!reader
tags: modern au, online dating, usage of an app somewhat similar to omegle, fluff, some angst here and there, mild chatfic, heavy pining, scara is called kunikuzushi
a/n: ahhhh im finally done with the first chaper 😭. sorry it took that long. anyways, yes i did change the title cause this came to me a few days after i posted the original one. also, my schedule might be messed up once i start uni so i'll probably post whenever i can. hope u guys enjoy!
that time i went on akaaasha and got myself traumatized
masterlist • next
Boredom is a crime. Its cuffs of monotony clamp tightly against your skin, holding you captive to its mind-numbing torment.
Unfortunately, Kunikuzushi is bored.
He’s hunched over his desk, eyes flicking to his laptop screen. It gleamed against the dark room, the scintillating colors glaring back at him. Kunikuzushi groaned as he tilted his head back. “Too fucking bright”, he mumbled quietly before resting against the recliner. His gaze settles on the glow-in-the-dark stars Childe had glued to his ceiling, their neon hue emitting a soft glow. He can almost hear the ginger’s mortified voice beside him.
“Your room needs a pop of color, you know?”
Yeah, right. As if. Kunikuzushi sighs, shifting in his seat. His eyes caught the flicker of the clock on his monitor—2:31 am.
He double-takes.
2:32 am.
Kunikuzushi shrugs. It’s just 2 am. He’ll catch some Z’s later. He reaches for his mouse, mindlessly tapping to open Akaaasha. It was one of those “social” apps that connect you with random strangers online. God forbid, the people on there were freaks and weirdos. But would it save him from the dullness that ensnared him? Probably. At the cost of his sanity.
He watched as the progress bar on his monitor reached 100 percent.
How bad can it possibly be?
The first call was a mistake.
The godforsaken app had matched him with an Inazuman guy who was built as your typical bodybuilder. Lean muscles, toned abs. Just like Childe, Kunikuzushi notes. He scrunches up his nose. Not a helpful reminder really. Now he just wants to leave.
His curious gaze travels downward. He pauses. And almost smashes his head against the desk. Archons above, the man is half naked. He’s only got a towel wrapped around his waist.
Kunikuzushi’s eyes snap away from the screen. Deep breaths. Inner peace. What in the fuck is this?
He runs a hand through his hair. He’s not often this prudish, but he’d rather not see a limp, spaghetti noodle waving hi. On his first call. Steeling himself, he reluctantly shifted his eyes back.
The man in question was currently using the camera as a mirror, flexing and hitting the typical “alpha male” poses. Kunikuzushi cleared his throat, yet the man barely acknowledged him. Seriously?
He scoffs. “Listen here, you little shi—”
The towel loosens and drops with a thud.
Kunikuzushi slams his laptop shut. He stares at the dark, the void he calls his room. He’s waiting for it to come alive and swallow him whole.
Oh, he can’t wait to douse himself in bleach and holy water.
It took forever before Kunikuzushi even thought about opening his laptop.
There was a crack on the left side of the screen, and the hinge was slightly loose. But more importantly, that man was no longer on his screen. Thank archons, he must’ve clicked next or something.
Kunikuzushi flops back in his chair as he holds the mouse. His grip tightens a bit, hesitant to click on the large button that glowed ‘next match?’. He huffs. Whatever. A second call can’t hurt.
But it did.
He found himself in the background of two people having the stupidest argument in history: Is the Earth flat?
The blonde-haired woman raised her hands defensively, “The Earth is flat! I have proof!”
The brown haired woman beside her frowns, pinching her temple. “Go on.”
“I mean, the Earth should be flat! Why else would we say ‘corners of the universe’?”
The frowning woman deadpans. So did Kunikuzushi. He’s almost sure the blonde was trolling, or making a terrible joke. But the gleam of determination in her eyes shattered his hope that she was just playing dumb.
After a few minutes of long silence, the brown haired woman responded. “Then why do we also say ‘go around the world’?”
"'C’mon Mira! That’s just a saying! Water can’t bend!”
“Did you fail Science?” Kunikuzushi interjected, his head resting on his palm.
The blonde-haired woman blinked once. Then twice. She gasps loudly, covering her mouth with a hand, “How did you know??”
His lips curved upwards, but his eyes remained flat, “Just a hunch. Did you happen to fail second-grade science, too?”
The blonde claps her hands before tugging on her brown haired friend. A childish grin was plastered on her face, “Mira, he’s a genius. He’s a mind reader!”
Mira looks at her, shaking her head. “Whatever floats your boat, Rain”. She shoots Kunikuzushi an apologetic look.
Kunikuzushi sighs, exiting the call. It was mildly interesting yet so exasperating. He felt like a shit ton of his brain cells disintegrated just listening to that.
He finds himself contemplating his life choices. How much can human idiocy go? He’d have to Google that later.
It took forever before Kunikuzushi even thought about opening his laptop.
There was a crack on the left side of the screen, and the hinge was slightly loose. But more importantly, that man was no longer on his screen. Thank archons, he must’ve clicked next or something.
Kunikuzushi flops back in his chair as he holds the mouse. His grip tightens a bit, hesitant to click on the large button that glowed ‘next match?’. He huffs. Whatever. A second call can’t hurt.
But it did.
He found himself in the background of two people having the stupidest argument in history: Is the Earth flat?
The blonde-haired woman raised her hands defensively, “The Earth is flat! I have proof!”
The brown haired woman beside her frowns, pinching her temple. “Go on.”
“I mean, the Earth should be flat! Why else would we say ‘corners of the universe’?”
The frowning woman deadpans. So did Kunikuzushi. He’s almost sure the blonde was trolling, or making a terrible joke. But the gleam of determination in her eyes shattered his hope that she was just playing dumb.
After a few minutes of long silence, the brown haired woman responded. “Then why do we also say ‘go around the world’?”
"'C’mon Mira! That’s just a saying! Water can’t bend!”
“Did you fail Science?” Kunikuzushi interjected, his head resting on his palm.
The blonde-haired woman blinked once. Then twice. She gasps loudly, covering her mouth with a hand, “How did you know??”
His lips curved upwards, but his eyes remained flat, “Just a hunch. Did you happen to fail second-grade science, too?”
The blonde claps her hands before tugging on her brown haired friend. A childish grin was plastered on her face, “Mira, he’s a genius. He’s a mind reader!”
Mira looks at her, shaking her head. “Whatever floats your boat, Rain”. She shoots Kunikuzushi an apologetic look.
Kunikuzushi sighs, exiting the call. It was mildly interesting yet so exasperating. He felt like a shit ton of his brain cells disintegrated just listening to that.
He finds himself contemplating his life choices. How much can human idiocy go? He’d have to Google that later.
“Ugh, isn’t there anyone more interesting on this app?” Kunikuzushi grumbled as he laid on his desk. He needs his inner peace. He went through enough bullshit today.
He closed his eyes, only to be jumpscared by the falling towel and the Eiffel Tower in between.
His eyes fly open. Shivers run down his spine. Damn it, he can’t get that cursed image off his mind. He inhaled, then exhaled. Then tried again. This time, there was silence and empty thoughts.
Or so he thought.
“Water can’t bend!”
Kunikuzushi snarled at the vexing words that pop up. He buried his face in his hands.
“Are you stupid? Of course water bends. Liquids have no shape and merely take the shape of their container. Are you that fucking ill-informed when you look like you could pass as a senior citizen-”
He shouldn’t have bothered with the app. He would’ve lived a better life if he didn’t have the information he has now.
He scowled at the glinting ‘match next’ button before he squeezed the edge of his laptop. If Akaaasha was a person, Kunikuzushi would've long throttled it and buried it in his backyard.
Self-absorbed in his internal crisis, his ears barely register the ‘ping’ coming from his laptop. His eyes looked up, squinting to see what it was. On the screen, it read, ‘An anonymous profile wants to match up with you’.
He eyes your profile picture. His mind stops functioning for a bit. You had a wide grin as you held up a calico Maine coon. So basic. Definitely not cute.
He glances at the clock. 3:47 am. Oh well, one more call won’t hurt. Besides, he’s already up this late. Might as well pull an all-nighter.
pairing: scaramouche x gn!reader
tags: fluff, 6nemo mention, scaramouche is bad at feelings, so are you, pining if you squint your eyes, a bit of explicit language
a/n: this was stuck in my notes app for a year now lmao. This actually took me longer than expected since the power went out. Anyways, I was trying to find a writing style so I'm really sorry if it's messy and bad. Writing pov's are so hard 😔. I'd love to know your thoughts about this honestly.
A cross-country road trip from Mondstadt to Liyue wasn't on your bucket list this summer.
Yet here you are with your group of besties, squashed together in a run-down minivan that Venti had somehow found a way to rent without raising suspicion. The scent of cheap booze clung to the leather seats, and the backseat windows were smashed. The rickety radio screeched a familiar melody. Heizou lights up instantly and claims it's his jam.
Two minutes in, and he's singing off-key to "Party in the USA." You cackle, Scara snorts, and Venti makes a comment about how he sounds like a dying cat. Aether hunches against the window, his shoulders shaking as he desperately tries to hold his laughter in. Xiao scoffs. Kazuha grins too. He playfully nudges Venti’s shoulder, insisting they just appreciate the wonderful voice Heizou blessed them with. Yet he chortled like a drunk donkey.
It was chaotic. It was madness. But it feels like home.
Hour 1
You love your friends. No cap, fingers crossed. It was the absolute truth. You wouldn’t trade them for anything, even if the world were ending and they were the key to survival. But Scaramouche? That’s a different story.
You’d trade him for a corn kernel without hesitation. And wear that like a badge of honor.
It’s a miracle how you two even became friends. Well, “friends” is a strong word. More like “arch enemies with the same friend group so they’re forced to coexist with each other”. You’re 100% sure your other friends have noticed the tension whenever you two were within 100 feet of each other. But they’d argue that you two would make a cute couple. And they’re pretty persistent with that agenda.
Because in this 3-hour drive to Liyue, Venti had the bright idea to have you and Scara crammed in the backseat, with the multiple luggage you guys brought as company. You curse to yourself. Reminder 1: Venti never has good ideas. Reminder 2: strangle Venti once you get your hands on him.
A light kick landed on your left thigh. You scowled at Scara. He just shrugged.
“Oops, thought it was Aether’s duffel bag,” he says, squinting like the little shit he is.
You raised your brow, “Bullshit. You can see Aether’s bag on the right!”
He glances at the bag you pointed at and sneers. You feel the urge to punch his pretty face. But you’d rather not have a fist fight in a cramped space that two people can barely fit in. So you opted to kick him back.
"I swear, if you don't move your legs, I'll crush them with my foot.”
Scara yelps before throwing a similar scowl in your direction. He rolls his eyes, "Can you, though? You’re weak as fuck. Who’s the one who could barely open the pickle jar last week?"
“That’s because the pickle jar was sealed tight!”
“Pft, excuses,” he says, flicking his wrist like you just bored him to death. “That’s all you're ever good at, aren’t you? Making excuses to hide behind because you kno no one’s backing you up.”
Okay, you’re not beyond throwing punches right now. You grab his wrist without thinking, your nails biting just enough to make him flinch.
"Watch me, you cocky brat. You’re all bark and no bite. Like a little puppy. Besides, aren’t you the one who hides behind a facade because you’re too scared to face your problems?"
Scara’s eyes widen for a split second. A flash of anger flicks through them."Oh fuck you, you motherf—"
"Will you two shut up and stop whining? I’m trying to get some sleep over here." Xiao’s voice was sharp, slicing the fragile veil of arguments exchanged.
You shut up. And so did Scara. He holds up a middle finger in your direction. And you respond with the same gesture. Asshole. You sigh. A little guilt nips at your chest for bringing up his problems. But he brought yours up first. It’s fair game. You glance at him. He glances back.
Yet not a single word was spoken.
It was the same every time you were with Scara. Childish insults. Foul language. Like you two are bound to be a broken record, hurling the same aimless words over and over again. Without having the courage to say what you want to say. It was exhausting. For the other five passengers in the car. And maybe for you too.
You leaned over the second row seat, your head poking between Xiao and Aether. Might as well distract yourself. Heizou looks at you, grinning. “You look like you want to murder Venti,” he comments. You brush him off. Oh, you definitely will. Just not now.
"Remind me again why I'm seated beside him?" You ask Venti, gesturing to Scara as he crossed his arms. He mumbles to himself. Something along the lines of “As if I want to sit next to you too”. Reminder 3: Find an abandoned building you can bury Scara in.
Venti, the bastard drunkard, giggles and replies, "Because you two need to get along, you're always fighting whenever you're together. Besides, it's not that bad to be seated next to him once in a while, no?" You snort. Cheeky brat.
"You two should just start dating already. I mean, you two fight like an old couple," Heizou chimes in with a smirk. Scara glared at him. You did too. You’re definitely adding him to the list of people you’d throw over the Inazuman river. Heizou had the audacity to laugh.
"See? Synchronized actions too."
"I actually think you'd look cute together," Aether says, as he adjusts his sitting position.
"Classic enemies-to-lovers trope," Kazuha chuckles. He eyes both of you through the rear-view mirror. "I think you'd love that Y/n. You're always gushing about how you want a little spice to your love story."
Scara snorts, "Seriously? I didn’t know you were this pathetic."
You snap your head in his direction. "At least I don’t lash out when five-year-olds beat me in Dress to Impress."
Scara glares at you, yet his lips curl upwards. "At least I’m not obsessed with a shit game like Grow a Garden."
"At least I—"
Xiao groans as he covers his ears.
It was nothing out of the ordinary. But you caught his glance in between insults. There was something off with the way he was looking at you. You shiver. You’re familiar with this feeling. It was one you wanted to run away from. Like a coward.
You two gawk and squawk like a broken record, playing the same screeching tune. Did he hate it too? The wailing noise that won’t shut up? Is he also looking for a way to escape this maddening cycle?
Hour 2
"Move over and stop bitching—"
"I swear, if you two are still arguing after a fucking hour, I’d throw myself out of this car”, Xiao cuts them off. His sleep was disturbed for the 3rd time now. “I'd rather hear you two making out than hear you argue about space in the backseat again,"
You roll your eyes. Scara galres at Xiao.
"You know it's serious when even Xiao is shipping you both," Venti laughs. Xiao rubs his brow, as if warding off a headache. "It's so painfully obvious that they like each other. It doesn't take more than 2 brain cells to figure it out."
"Are you calling me dumb?" Scara questions with a raised brow.
"Yes you are. You're an idiot. And so is Y/n"
You tilt your head, bemused. "What—"
"Am I wrong?" Xiao snaps.
You stare at him, jaw wide open. Did he really just ask that? "Of course you are! Scara doesn't like me!"
Xio deadpans with an “Are you being serious right now?” look. "He is literally always by your side."
"Yeah sure. To get under my skin and annoy me."
Heizou smirks. “Defensive, aren’t we?”
Aether jumps in with a wide grin, "At this point, we're just waiting for a confession."
You take it all back. Maybe you don’t love your friends that much. Inhale. Exhale. You reach for the bottled water lying on the ground. The one Venti handed out earlier. You need to calm down for a moment.
"C'mon, stop teasing Y/n. That's Scara's job. You know how he hates it when other people tease what's his" Kazuha smirks.
Scara growls and snaps at Kazuha. "Shut up and focus on the road. You're going to get us killed."
You almost spat the water you had in your mouth. Keyword: almost. Although it wouldn’t be that bad, honestly. These people deserve it. Especially the wannabe detective in front of you. You swallow the water before voicing a protest too.
"I don't belong to him—"
But Heizou cackles and shuts you up.
"Yet".
Venti hollers, holding his stomach. Heizou titters. Kazuha and Aether are giggling. Xiao was laughing too. You groan. Whatever. You’ll let them have their fun.
You returned to the backseat, leaning against the car door. Scara sat beside you. You scrunch your nose in disgust,
“Quit that, I don’t have a choice”, he sighs.
You don’t say anything. Neither does he. You bask in the quiet you didn’t even know was possible. It was fun when you two bantered, but somehow it hurt when you two were silent. You’re profoundly aware of Scara’s proximity to you. Your clothes were touching, and you could hear him breathe in and out. That familiar feeling gnawed in your chest. How you wished you could touch his skin too.
You shot up. What kind of thoughts are those? You wave a hand, as if it would cause them to vanish nd retreat to the depths of your mind. You watched Scara. For once, he was silent. No snarky comments. No nothing.
“Sorry,” you quietly mumble. It wasn’t your intention to speak, but you wanted to say something. Anything. The silence was killing you. Or maybe you missed his voice already.
He looked at you, perplexed. As if he’s seen aliens or something.“You’re apologizing? For what?”
“For bringing up those kinds of shit earlier. Didn’t mean to touch on your problems,” you quietly mumble.
Scara blinks. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. You? Apologizing? Did they crash or something? Is he dead? What kind of reality is this??
He’s quiet. One minute passed. Then two. Then three. He snapped out of his trance and found his voice.
“It’s fine. Don’t bother. We make that kind of comment almost every time. I don’t see why you have to apologize now. Besides, I brought it up first, didn’t I?” he scoffs, masking his bewilderment under layers of sarcasm.
You let out a quiet chuckle, “Yeah, I guess. I don’t know why I even apologized.”
It was still once more. No squabbles. No fights. Maybe the silence was growing on you. You caught the way Scara’s lips curved into a small smile.
Maybe you both wanted the melody to fade, you just didn’t know how.
Hour 3
The car was tranquil. For the first time in the past 2 hours, not a single peep was audible from the two confined in the backseat. Venti snored from the shotgun. Heizou and Xiao were on their Nintendo Switch, grinding Animal Crossing and trading items with each other. Aether was probably asleep. Kazuha was diligently keeping us from crashing.
It was like a miracle from the Archons themselves. Maybe they got tired of all the disputes too. You can almost hear Xiao mutter, “Thank Lord Barbatos the annoying shits behind me shut up”.
You didn’t bother responding, slotting one of your AirPods in your ear. You stare at your fingers as you idly fiddle with the other pair. Kazuha had gifted these to you on your previous birthday. Said it was from someone else. You wouldn’t have accepted such suspicious gifts if not for the custom work that caught your attention.
There was a curious cat meme painted on the case. It looks like it was done by hand too. A smile tugged at your lips at the fond memory. You don’t know if you believe Kazuha or if it’s all bullshit, but oh well. Maybe you’ll try nagging Kazuha next time to figure out this “mystery” person.
You pop the other one in before closing your eyes. It was black. It was soothing. The beat drummed against your ear. You hummed along.
But the music stopped on your right. Your eyes fling open. Scara grins, holding up the other piece.
"Wha— Hey!" You reach out, trying (and failing) to get it back.
"C'mon, let me listen in. I’m bored," he mocks, sticking out his tongue like a loser kid. You groan. You know he won’t stop pestering you until he has what he wants.
"Fine, but don't complain to me later when it's not your type of music. And no, you can’t call it shitty either. You subjected yourself to this."
He chuckles, "I won't". Then a little smirk appears on his face, " Probably".
You roll your eyes, not having the energy to retort. Your head leaned against the window. You close your eyes again.
"Arctic Monkeys, huh? Didn't take you to be a fan," Scara teases. You scowled at him. "Shut up. Can you keep quiet? I’m trying to keep in touch with my inner peace here."
And Scara does. He holds his tongue, letting the music play through. A familiar outro plays, and he pauses. It’s one he knows by heart. One that he has on loop in his own Spotify playlist.
I Wanna Be Yours.
He peers at your hunched form. Were you asleep? His breath caught in his throat when your eyes locked with his. There was silence that followed. But there was something different about it this time. Something he can’t quite name yet, but it’s there. Lingering in the air, rendering them senseless.
Scara’s hand brushes yours. Neither of you pulls away. His touch becomes more confident. He holds your hand, fingers slipping to interlock with yours. You looked away. Stayed silent. But you squeezed back. Scara clears his throat, a shade of red painting his face and neck.
A few minutes pass and his eyes dart back to you. But somehow, you’re already asleep. Long, even breaths and mumbling incoherent things. Admittedly… It was cute.
The car hits a bump. And so does your head. It hits the window, fortunately not that strongly. Scara wonders how that didn’t wake you up. He looks in front. Good. The others were minding their own business. His other hand hesitated, his grip on your hand tightening slightly.
He reached for you, gently bringing your head to rest against his shoulder. He just doesn’t want you to have brain damage. Yeah. That’s all. That’s definitely the reason why he’s doing this. No ulterior motives whatsoever.
He glances at your sleeping face. Is that drool on the side of your lips? He snickers. He’ll have to tease you about it later. For now though… He looks around once more. With no possible witness, he rests his head against yours. A small smile tugged at his lips.
The screeching, the wailing… It vanished. Instead what they heard was a soft melody, carrying the whispers and wishes made in the dark. Finally, the song of you and him has started.
a/n: Request from anon! This can be taken as a timeskip from this or just a separate story. Anyway, Scara’s trying his best. He really is. (He’s losing.)
pairing: scaramouche x you
genre: fluff
Your mornings had changed a lot since the "just-us" days.
You used to wake up slow — tangled in sheets, Scaramouche curled around you like he was guarding something precious (because he was), the sun peeking through the curtains lazily. He’d grumble if you dared move before 10, swearing you were disrupting his 'beauty regeneration cycle.'
Now?
Now you were being woken up by a xylophone.
"Rise and shine, Mama and Dada! It’s concert day!"
The metallic twang of off-key notes echoed across the bedroom as your four-year-old proudly banged her musical weapon of choice, standing on the foot of the bed like a victorious general.
You groaned into your pillow. "Sweetheart, It’s Sunday. That means quiet cuddles, remember?"
"But I made a song for the family cat!"
"We don’t have a cat," Scaramouche said, voice muffled under the blanket.
"I pretended we did."
"That’s worse."
Eventually, you dragged yourselves out of bed — Scaramouche grumbling the whole way, hair in a state of rebellion, clutching his coffee like it was holy water.
Your daughter was already at the kitchen table, surrounded by crayons and a sheet of paper she proudly called her "adoption contract" for the imaginary cat. You couldn’t help but laugh when she demanded both your signatures in pink glitter pen.
Scaramouche raised an eyebrow. "Where’s the clause that says I won’t be scooping anything out of a litter box?"
"She said you’ll handle the 'emotional support cuddles'," you said helpfully.
He gave you a flat look. "I hope our next pet is imaginary too."
By midday, your living room looked like an art exhibit curated by a toddler on a sugar rush. Paper scraps everywhere. Glitter on the couch. One sock in the fridge (you still don’t know how that got there).
Your daughter was in the middle of constructing a "princess pirate palace" using every pillow you owned.
You were curled up on the couch watching her, mug in hand, when Scaramouche dropped beside you with a deep sigh.
"I stepped on a Barbie shoe," he muttered. "I think my foot has filed for divorce."
You laughed, patting his thigh. "At least she didn’t glue googly eyes to your computer again."
"She named them last time. And gave them a backstory.”
"Be honest. You kinda liked it."
"…Okay, yeah. Officer Wiggle-Eye did have a tragic past."
Later that afternoon, after the chaos had calmed down and your daughter was happily watching cartoons while lying upside down on the bean bag, you and Scaramouche snuck into the kitchen for your rare moment of peace.
You were sipping your drink, back against the counter. He was beside you, arm brushing yours.
"She’s too much like you," he said suddenly.
You smirked. "She gets her stubbornness from you."
"I wasn’t talking about the stubbornness. I meant the sparkle pens, the dramatics, the bedtime refusal speeches—she’s you."
You laughed, warm and full. "Is that your way of saying you’re doomed?"
He grinned against his cup. "I’m saying I’m already outnumbered."
Then—
From the living room:
"Mama! Dada!"
You both turned your heads at once. Scaramouche called back, "What is it now? Did the couch become lava again?!"
"No!" she shouted. "I want a baby brother! Can I have one?"
Silence.
You didn’t move.
Scaramouche visibly froze with his cup mid-sip.
"…I’m sorry," he whispered. "What did she just say?"
You bit back a laugh. "She said—"
"I heard what she said, I just—what kind of cartoon gives kids that idea?!"
You shouted back, "Why a brother, sweetheart?"
"So I can boss him around!"
Scaramouche wheezed.
You reached over and gently patted his back as he coughed, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. "You okay there, love?"
"She wants to lead a cult," he gasped. "A bloodline."
You were cracking up now, leaning into him for support.
Your daughter peeked her head into the kitchen, casual as anything. "So? Can I have one?"
You and Scaramouche looked at each other.
And then he turned to her with a totally serious face and said:
"Ask me again after I finish this cup."
She blinked, then nodded solemnly. "Okay."
As soon as she left, he turned to you with wide eyes. "She’s not serious, right? Right?!"
You smirked and leaned in, voice sweet and deadly: "Well, she did draw a family portrait earlier. And it had four people in it."
Scaramouche looked at the ceiling like it might give him divine answers.
You kissed his cheek. "You’d survive another one."
He gave you a look. "I barely survived the first one."
"But you’d do it again, wouldn’t you?"
He stared at you.
And then slowly, reluctantly, lovingly... sighed. "Only if it comes out as chill as me and not like a glitter-bombed hurricane."
You raised your mug to clink his. "We’ll see."
And in the living room, your daughter had already drawn a new family photo.
a/n: Married life with Scara has me giggling and kicking my feet every time — but writing him softly asking about having a baby? Yeah, I melted.
pairing: scaramouche x you
genre: fluff
The house was already quiet.
Dinner had been finished hours ago. The dishes were done, the lights dimmed, and the scent of clean sheets and your favorite candle still lingered in the bedroom air.
Your playlist of soft, sleepy love songs played quietly in the background — not loud enough to distract, just enough to fill the silence between your shared breaths.
Scaramouche had his arms around you, just the way he always did after a long day. You were laying chest to chest, legs tangled under the blanket, one of his hands absentmindedly stroking your back while the other stayed curled behind your head.
You loved this part of the night — when the world felt far away and Scara was just yours. No distractions, no sharp remarks, just warmth and weight and slow, lazy affection.
He always relaxed more like this. His tone softer. His walls lowered.
"Comfy?" he murmured into your hair.
"Mmhm. You’re warm."
"You’re clingy."
"You’re the one holding me like a stuffed toy."
"Maybe because you look like one."
You giggled and lifted your head slightly to look at him. He looked so pretty like this — loose hair falling over his forehead, lips slightly parted, sleepy eyes softened in the warm glow of the bedside lamp. Married life had made him a little more tender, even if he still tried to hide it.
You leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose. "You’re staring."
He didn’t deny it. Just smiled a little. "Can’t I look at my spouse?"
"You’re being sappy."
"So?"
"So, I like it," you whispered.
Scaramouche hummed, his thumb brushing lazy patterns against your hip. You thought maybe that was the end of it — that the two of you would slip into sleep like usual. But then his fingers paused. His lips parted like he was about to speak. And then… hesitation.
You could feel it.
"Scara?"
"…Can I tell you something?"
Your brows lifted a little. You nodded. "Of course."
He was quiet for a second — too quiet. His expression unreadable, but not distant. More like he was gathering courage for something.
"I… don’t know why I’m thinking about this now," he began, voice soft and slow, "but… what would you think if we… had a baby?"
You blinked. You weren’t sure you heard him right at first. "Are you serious?"
He didn’t look away. "I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t."
You sat up just slightly, supported by your elbow as you looked down at him. His hand stayed on your waist, his gaze steady but nervous. Like part of him was scared you’d laugh or brush it off.
"I thought you didn’t like kids," you teased lightly, trying to ease the tension.
"I didn’t. I mean… I didn’t think I did." His eyes softened. "But lately I keep imagining it. Not random kids — ours. You. Me. A tiny little someone who looks like both of us."
Your breath caught in your throat.
"I picture you holding them in the kitchen in the mornings," he murmured. "And me sitting beside you while they nap on your chest. I think about decorating a little room, going to doctor appointments, folding ridiculous baby clothes. I don’t know. It just keeps popping into my head, and I don’t hate it."
You didn’t say anything at first. You were still caught on the image of him folding baby clothes and sitting beside you while a tiny little bundle snuggled on your chest. And the way he said ours like it was the most sacred word in the world.
"…Scara," you whispered. "I didn’t know you’d been thinking about that."
He looked away, suddenly bashful. "I wasn’t sure if I should bring it up. I didn’t want to pressure you. Or make it weird."
"It’s not weird," you said softly. "It’s… kind of beautiful."
He blinked.
You leaned in and kissed him again — slower this time. With more meaning. And when you pulled back, your hand rested on his chest, right over his heart.
"I’ve thought about it too," you admitted. "Not seriously. Not planning or anything. But sometimes, I’ll see someone holding a baby and think… I wonder what that would be like with you. I wonder what kind of dad you’d be."
He raised an eyebrow. "What kind do you think?"
"The kind that pretends to be annoyed but secretly loves every second of it."
He scoffed. "Lies."
"The kind that rocks them to sleep while complaining the whole time."
"Only if you’re not helping."
You giggled, and he smiled, pulling you down into his arms again.
"…So?" he asked quietly. "Do you think… someday?"
You placed your hand over his on your stomach, heart full.
"Yeah," you whispered. "Someday sounds really, really nice."
He didn’t say anything for a moment — just buried his face into your shoulder and let out the softest breath you’d ever heard.
And when he pulled you closer and pressed the lightest kiss to your temple, he whispered one last thing before you both drifted off to sleep,
"You're so annoying"
"Yeah? I prefer to call it being persistent"
synopsis: the first call was a mistake. and so was the second. scaramouche was this close to exiting this godforsaken app. but then your name popped up. and the photo of you holding up some stupid cat. definitely not cute. before he can catch himself, he's already clicking "answer".
oh well, third times a charm right?
pairing: scaramouche x gen!reader
warning: casual swearing, lightly suggestive if you squint your eyes, multiple characters smoke
tags: modern au, online dating, usage of an app somewhat similar to omegle, fluff, some angst here and there, mild chatfic, heavy pining, scara is called kunikuzushi
status: pending...
a/n: if you saw this before, no you didn't lmao. anyways, yooooo first ever scara fic series?? i'm actually very hyped and excited for this. been wanting to do some sort of series for a while now. i will try to post a new chapter every week btw, possibly every sunday. could post double chapters if i finish them early. anyways, sorry for making y'all wait <3.
