Scara X You - Tumblr Posts

imagine being emotional 😆😆😆😆😆😆😆😆😆😆😆

can I request a charac using reader who has a crush on them for their own benefits. while reader is left to wonder why chrc acts like a stranger to reader in public. eventually confronting chrc and them brushing it off as not noticing, being too busy. until reader eavesdropped to a convo with chrc's friend abt chrc just using reader. and reader leaves and ignores chrc for a while and chrc slowly starts missing reader's presence, only to see reader with someone else and confronting reader about it. of course charac won't get the happy ending 😈

(preferably scara, or childe-- if u write for him.)

feel free to ignore, I think I haven't expressed my req properly 😭😭.

also can I be 🌧️ anon ? :>

thanks 🌧️ anon for the request ^^ i hope you enjoy!

not your pet, anymore

scaramouche x reader

warnings: angst, arguments, insults, suggestive mentions

“you love me, right?”

“of course i do, scara. you mean so much to me.” you whispered, fingers running through his hair as he leaned against you. his thick eyelashes fluttered shut, hand on his chest as he lay against you.

the biting cold of fall couldn’t compare to the warmth you two shared, huddled together like this. his cheeks still tinted pink from the cold air, hands cold to the touch, it was just the way you liked him to be. cold enough for him to want to sit close to you and warm up.

touches were not a regular occurrence for scaramouche, he was normally dismissive, claiming he hated the closeness of skin on skin contact. but that wasn’t said when he’d tug at the end of your sweater, asking if he could feel more of your warmth. soft pants escaping your lips, his cold hands wandering, bodies on the cold floor of his bedroom. that’s how you’d spend your days after school.

but this time, with your hair sticking to your sweaty forehead as you finished up some of scaramouche’s homework he had passed on to you, something felt different. he was glued to his phone, an unusual smile gracing his lips as his thumbs danced across the device. you frowned, putting down your pen as you watched his face pull up in expressions you had rarely seen.

“who’re you talking to scara?”

“none of your business, (y/n).” he snapped, the smile he had been wearing for a few minutes dropping as his head snapped up to look at you. he sighed dramatically, getting up from the floor as he placed his phone down next to your hand, his face inches away from you.

“so damn nosy (y/n), when you should be doing my essay. are you bored? should i give you more work? or maybe i should let you suck me off, put your mouth to use. i think i like you better when you’re stuffing me in than anything you’ve ever said, anyway.” he sneered, enjoying the silence from you. a slight movement from you caused annoyance to bubbled up inside of him, his face unable to hide that itching feeling.

“you know, if you weren’t like this i’d be nicer to you, hell, maybe i’d love you. fat chance of that happening, i hate you most of the time. the only time i like your mouth open is when you’re making those pretty sounds for me, anything else is just muck.

why’re you so quiet, huh? are you gonna run off to your friends again? tell them how horrible i am? you think someone like collei will bother with you after you tell her what you do in here with me? how you open yourself to me? after swearing to her you’re done with me? you’re fucking something, (y/n). honestly, i’m getting sick of you. can you get the fuck out now?”

scaramouche’s phone buzzes, screen lighting up with a new text message. the both of you glance to it at the same time before he snatches it up, typing away a response as you gather your things without a word. biting your tongue was easier said then done, but you knew the argument would be worse if you said anything to him at all.

with a gentle click of scaramouche’s door, hours had gone by since you made your way home. a warm shower to rid of the nagging feeling at the pit of your stomach, along with the stickiness scaramouche had left you. you weren’t enjoying this, not one bit.

you figured you’d talk to him tomorrow in class, apologize for your inconveniences to him, and have it return to how it usually was after a fight. if you could call it one.

what you didn’t expect was to see scaramouche sitting by the green haired girl, haypasia, his usual seat empty as they sat side by side. quietly setting your things down, you still thought to say good morning to him, as a sign of peace.

standing from your seat, you meekly stood in front of him, hands wringing in front of you nervously. “good morning scara, and haypasia, i was wondering if—“

scaramouche never looked at you the whole time you were standing in front of him, his eyes glued on haypasia as her eyes bore into yours. a bitter smirk on haypasia’s face as she waved you off, scaramouche rolling his eyes before continuing whatever conversation they were having before you interrupted him.

a pain started to form in your chest. that nauseating prick that you’d feel every time you knew scaramouche was fooling around with other girls. cold sweat was all you felt as class droned on, your eyes never leaving the back of scaramouche’s head as his hand would slip underneath haypasia’s desk, sliding her pieces of paper that she would giggle at or turn red to after reading.

why is he being like this? should you have said something yesterday? would the satisfaction of knowing he practically owned you satisfy him enough to not be like this? these thoughts ran through your head until it was time for lunch, that bell being something of a savior as you were freed from seeing him there with her.

childe’s loud laughs caught your attention as he stood with kazuha, an anxious look on the white haired boys face as his eyes locked with yours for a moment. “i mean, just look at her! everyone knows scara is just using her. i heard, he’s been sleeping with (y/n) so he’s good enough to do it with that other girl, whatever her name is. you know her, right kazuha? whatdya think? did you get a piece of her yet too? or is it just scara sinking his claws in her, and something else!”

kazuha’s nervous laugh as childe punched his arm spoke volumes as you stood up, clutching the strap of your bag. kazuha noticed the tears in your eyes as you ran out of the classroom, you had heard every word that came out of childe’s mouth. excusing himself, he ran after you, his soft taps of his feet on the floor in comparison to your loud, cluttered footsteps.

scaramouche heard about this from childe, his demeanor changing once childe gave him the details on how kazuha ran after you. he didn’t know why it bothered him, but it did. no one else should be acknowledging his pet, the one that was so compliant and listened to everything he asked of you.

that’s how he saw you, and that’s all you were to him. right? that egging feeling in his chest as his messages to you were now left on seen more often than not. your cat keychain you hung on your bag that “reminded you of him” being replaced by a charm of a maple leaf, the same one kazuha had on his bag.

it bothered him. and he didn’t try to hide it. every time you’d sit next to kazuha instead of him, he’d grumble under his breath. a part of him ached to see you bare on his bedroom floor again, your fingers running through his hair, your gentle kisses on his forehead when you’d put him to bed when he was in a foul mood. he actually missed you.

but why were you so distant now? surely kazuha wasn’t giving you something he wasn’t, right? he couldn’t. you’d always declared your loyalty to scaramouche, never once breaking it.

then why did you admit you were in love with kazuha? your hands together in front of scaramouche as he scoffs, taking you by the wrist the second those words left your mouth.

“come again? i think i misheard you (y/n). you said you were in love with me just last month. so how do you even think you have feelings for that poet?” his voice wavered, eyes scanning across your face for a sign, a hint of remorse or love that you once held for him.

you shake your head, taking your hand away from scaramouche’s grip but he tightens it anyway. his eyes bore into yours, begging, pleading for it not to be true. for you to laugh it off and say you were kidding.

“he’s.. kind. it’s unlike something i’ve had before, and.. it feels good. it feels good to be wanted, scara. something i never felt with you.”

“something i never felt with you”, those words rung in his head as he laughs loudly, fat tears spilling as he pulls you into his chest. your hands going to push him away as he holds you tightly, laughing through his tears.

“you promised me (y/n), you promised you’d stay. you said you’d stay with me forever, love me forever! please don’t be like them, please don’t let that be a lie.”

“let me go, scara. please.” you whispered, feeling him shake his head as his hands tighten around you.

“n-no, no.. i can’t lose you too. archons, i can’t. what did childe say (y/n)? i promise he didn’t mean it, whatever he said isn’t true! i swear.. let’s just, go back to how it used to be, yeah? you can come over like you used to and- and we just don’t have to have sex. we can do things you like! i swear.. so please..”

his tears had rolled down, coating your neck as he wept. you’d never seen him in such a desperate state. his eyes looking into yours for a hint of what used to be there for him, but there wasn’t. more tears rolled down his cheeks as he let you go. he had fucked up. again. and this time he lost you, the one thing he never thought he’d lose.

“i’m sorry, scara. i’ve moved on. i think you have too with haypasia, you’ll be okay.” you say before picking up your bag, leaving him standing there with a wreck of feelings in his chest.

“you’re just like the rest.” he spat under his breath, harshly wiping at his eyes as the tears continued to flow. a hateful sentence meant to comfort no one but himself. he knew you weren’t at fault for it, he knew one day you’d want something more of him, something he’d be reluctant to give you. the day you finally escaped the clutches of the toxic relationship he had given you, the same day he had deemed the end of his new beginning.

“i never got my forever with you, like you promised. i can’t apologize for hating you for it.”

taglist: @sakiimeo @astrolomona @dearsumire @saeism @shoheartluv @0kauy @lelemnh @kaoriee @samarill

Scara who ties and gags you up so you won't move as he shoves a vibrator into your hole, leaving you in his room to head to work while the vibrator was buzzing into at low intensity and when he came back, your legs were soaked and dripping with your juices— your eyes teary and face flushed. You weren't able to cum for the last few hours and you needed to orgasm so bad, but you can't even do anything while being like this. He soon takes out the vibrator that was all covered in your juices, and placed it aside— only for him to pull his cock out and push it inside of you. You've been waiting for so long, so relieved that Scara was nice enough to fuck you raw while you're becoming a dumb little mess under him and even after a few rounds, he wouldn't stop even if you were too dumb and overstimulated to even realize how many times you even came. You might have to decide a color on your wheel chair...

Tasteless Engine (3)

In the next few days, you task yourself the mission of making this puppet a decent boy. Like a cat, he likes to roam around the bungalow and take naps in weird places (in the corner of the kitchen, for instance). You have to go after him to take him back to the little bed you make for him in the living room (you were not really sure if he needed a bed, but he throwed a tantrum). Once the storm outside calmed down, you went down the mountain to buy clays of porcelain. It almost took you a day, and when you come back to the bungalow, you find Scaramouche sleeping on YOUR bed with YOUR pillow hugged between his arms. Annoyed, you put the clay on the kitchen table and go in your room. You take the two corners of the blanket and suddenly throw it, making the poor doll waltz on the floor, yelling.

“AHH! ARE YOU STUPID?! CRAZY?! SADISTIC MAYBE?!!” He yells.

“You were sleeping on my bed! I made you one and you don’t even use it!

-BECAUSE YOURS IS MORE COMFORTABLE, IDIOT!”

After arguing for half an hour, he decides to give you the silence treatment.

You start to be annoyed of his long, dirty dark purple hair and proposed him to take care of it for him. At first, he refused. But Scaramouche can’t resist it when he is given attention, and it doesn’t take long for him to give up to your cares and stop being mad at you. You take him to the kitchen, and he does not object. He sits on a chair and you examinate his hair. It is very long, almost reaching the floor. It is also tangled and kind of sticky. You grimace and take a big bowl off a shelf and put it on his head.

“What are you doing?

-I’m sorry, Scara, but I don’t have another choice…

-What?!”

You take scissors and start to cut his hair. After this, you put his head in the sink and start to wash his hair, it’s a very awkward moment…

When you finished to dry his hair, you realized that you forgot to cut the hair at the base of his neck, and it look like a small mullet now. Embarrassed, you say nothing and let him look in the mirror.

“What do you think?

-It’s hideous.

-Then do it yourself!

-No.

-Why?!

-I don’t want to.”

You looked a him, annoyed, and he looks back at you, also annoyed. You show him the clay you brought, and proposed to fix him. He reluctantly agrees and you lay him on the table, half- naked, near the candle burning on the shelf. You take the clay and start to fill the hollows and the wounds, then you do the most difficult part: the hole in his chest. This is the worst part to fix, but when you finished, at the first lights of the morning, you let out a little yell of victory. You told Scaramouche to not move until the porcelain is done drying, and he whined all day because of that. But at least, you could close the door, and enjoy -for once- a bit of calm in your house. Once the porcelain is dry, you tell him that you would buy clothes for him at the market this weekend, but he objects: he wants to go himself and choose himself his clothes. So, you spent two hours arguing with him and explaining him that if people saw him, they would panic. But your words fell on deaf ears, and during a couple of days, Scaramouche refused to wear the clothes you bought him, and throwed a tantrum like a child. But after promising him that you would give him your bed (that was a lie), Scaramouche finally accepted to stop walking around half-bare in his torn clothes and wear the one you bought.

In the evening, you are so tired that you fall on your bed like a worm. You did not even tell Scaramouche goodnight, but he annoyed you so much during the last few days that it is not nothing to worry about. Once your head hit the soft pillow, you black out and fall into the world of dreams…

Only to wake up next to him.

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English is not my first language, and I wrote this while being very tired so, sorry for the mistakes!