#Mr.Scarletella

[pla-v-illgame]

【文字化化】赤い傘の男 / fanart

赤い傘の男

強引ぐまいうぇいなツギハギ男くん。 連れてかれる主人公ちゃんを目撃した赤い傘の男さん。 …まだ続く…？

Mr.Scarletella

Going My Way, Mr.Stitch! Mr.scaretellea witnesses heroine being taken away. …Also Continued…?

↓前回　prev↓

🎮Mygame Playlists↓

Youtube Playlists📺https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLKb8STtGcGS-GwTn8QMAONJt0eSrC4Zpc

↓Please request and follow me.｡°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°｡

[nana-mania]

"GLITCHED DESIRE" he will always chase after you.

╰┈➤: ̗̀➛ oneshot

࿐*ೃ feat : mr. scarletella

࿐*ೃ fandom : homicipher

࿐*ೃ extra : fem! reader, fluff

╰┈➤: ̗̀➛ Flickering lights buzzed above you as you made your way through the dilapidated corridors of the building. You'd long since stopped hoping to find an easy way out—this was a mysterious building, and escape was rarely straightforward. Still, you refused to give up. Each door, each hallway, could hold a glimmer of hope. Or a trap.

Your steps echoed faintly, swallowed by the oppressive silence that surrounded you. You were focused on the cracked map in your hand, one you had drawn yourself, trying to decipher its faded markings when that familiar, unnerving sensation crept up your spine.

Someone was watching you. Someone was following you.

You turned quickly, scanning the barely lit hallway behind you. Nothing. No sign of movement, no shift in the shadows. But you felt it. You always felt it before he appeared.

With a sharp exhale, you turned back to your map, trying to focus on the task at hand. But when you did, he was there—Mr. Scarletella, mere inches from your face. His presence distorted reality, the air around him rippling like a corrupted video file. His eyes, void-like and unblinking, bore into yours, and the world felt like it had stopped.

You flinched instinctively, a shiver running down your spine. “Really? Again?” you muttered, more exasperated than afraid. You had gotten used to his tricks, his sudden appearances meant to jolt you into fear. By now, it was more annoying than terrifying.

Mr. Scarletella tilted his head, a slight smirk curling his lips. “What, you do?” he asked, his voice dripping with curiosity.

You didn’t even bother looking up as you replied casually, “Way out.” Your tone was deliberately flat, your attention divided between the map and the faint sound of a creaking door somewhere far off.

He didn’t seem deterred by your lack of interest. If anything, it only seemed to amuse him. “So focused,” he murmured, his voice almost a purr. “So serious. Why, escape?”

You ignored him, taking a step forward to investigate the faint sound. But as soon as you moved, he glitched again. One moment, he was behind you; the next, he was directly in front of you, blocking your path. His smirk widened, and his eyes sparkled with mischief—or something far darker.

“Excuse me,” you said, attempting to sidestep him.

He mirrored your movement effortlessly, leaning in just enough to invade your space. “Don't be cold.” His voice dropped to a near whisper.

You rolled your eyes, refusing to give him the reaction he wanted. “You’re wasting your time.”

“I, am?” His tone shifted, playful yet persistent. “You, waste time. Not me, darling.”

The sudden endearment made you falter for a split second, your focus breaking. Where did he learn that?

He noticed. Of course, he noticed. His grin grew sharper, and he leaned closer.

“Surprise?” he teased, his voice a velvet caress. “Don't run. Stay here, with me.”

You forced yourself to look away, your heart pounding—not from fear, but from something you couldn’t quite place. Annoyance? Frustration? No. It was something more dangerous. You didn’t want to acknowledge it, so you kept walking, determined to shake him off.

But, as always, he followed. Like a shadow, like a curse, he trailed behind you, his steps unnervingly quiet. His demeanor shifted as he walked, from predatory to almost... eager. Like a puppy following its owner.

“You,” he started again, “Me, can help. But, I don't. Why?”

“Because you’re bored.”

He chuckled, a low, melodic sound that made your skin prickle. “Wrong. Me, you, interested, (Y/n)."

You sighed, stopping at a locked door and fiddling with its rusted handle. “If I’m so interesting, why don’t you do something useful for once? Open this door.”

“Hmm...” He tilted his head, pretending to consider it. “What, in return?”

“Peace and quiet,” you shot back.

He laughed again, a genuine sound that caught you off guard. It was rare to hear anything from him that wasn’t dripping with menace or mockery. “Funny,” he said. "Me, like you.”

Ignoring him, you moved to another door, only to find it locked as well. He leaned against the wall beside you, watching your every move with unnerving intensity. You could feel his gaze burning into you, even when you refused to meet it.

“You enjoy, right?” he said after a moment, his voice soft, almost contemplative, “Our, little game. Me, chase you.”

You turned to glare at him, finally snapping. “Enjoy? You delusional. You’re the reason I’m stuck here in the first place!”

He shrugged, unbothered by your outburst. “Maybe. Me like you, a lot. Want you, stay here.”

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you in an instant, his face mere inches from yours. His smile was gone, replaced by something darker. “Tell me,” he said, his voice a low murmur, “You can escape..will you, leave? Will you, miss me?”

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding against your ribcage. You wanted to snap at him, to push him away, to deny whatever game he was playing. But his eyes, those endless voids, held you captive.

“I—” The words caught in your throat, and you turned sharply, forcing yourself to walk away. Your footsteps echoed louder this time, as if trying to drown out the sound of your racing heart.

He didn’t follow immediately, but you could feel his presence lingering, his gaze heavy on your back. And then, just as you reached the end of the hallway, his voice called out to you, soft but insistent.

“Run, darling,” he said. “You come back. Always do.”

You didn’t look back. You couldn’t. But his words stayed with you, echoing in your mind long after his presence had faded.

࿐*ೃ thanks for reading this scenario! likes, interaction and reblogs are deeply appreciated ♡

[fundashnee-rott]

Giggling my ass off at the idea that mr.scarletella take you on an ice skating date but doesn't know how to ice skate and it's just this 8ft mf and his 5ft long legs just being a cartoon trying not to eat shit on the ice but also trying to be seductive. Endless entertaining thought to me.

[stephin-horni-zone]

Nsfw headcanons [Homicipher, grabbag]

Characters included: Mr.scarletella, Mr.crawling, mr.slivair, mr.gap, mr. Machete.

Headcanons count: 4.5

1. Mr.scarletella and mr.crawling both do pup play but mr.crawling based his dogsona a companion/herding dog so I think he'd love to do the more playful things dogs do. Where mr.scarletella would be more into the role play I can see someone putting on one of those yard leach things on him and he just run back and forth barking at strangers who he could see through the fence.

2. Mr.scarlella would be a whiney bottom, like I can see him throwing a tantrum that you didn't wreck him hard enough or that you finish inside him.

3.Mr.Slivair and Mr.machete tag teaming me would fix me.

4. Mr. Gap has an adjustable dick (something about filling in a gap)

5. Mr. Scarletella could probably use his body as bandage rope but doesn't because he wants to be the one tied up.

[jackle-fundashii]

It's a good thing that mr.scarletella isn't real. That man would have me acting like a grandma. Like he be over there like "I want your name." And I'm 100% gonna hit him back with "Well if you eat your greens."

[artsqaudlol]

Ok ive made my beginners chart of so far fav characters in homicipher game.

I don't vibe with scarletella...simply no.

Silvair...I dont hate him but he gave me a horrible feeling at the beginning before I could translate him of "this hoe gonn' kill you!"

Mr.Gap...neutral cause ive had 2 half decent endings with him involved being helpful...he's good and bad depending on situation and how willing you are to sacrifice your limbs.

Mr.Chopped: he's so good! But he gets lost easy and kept getting stuck in dumb sitations...tho not a bad critter just sitationally challenged.

The bride, is queen energy! I love her she's so good, I wish she had more interactions cause she's lovely! ♥️♥️♥️

Mr.Crawling...my husband and I love him! The first time I accidentally thought I killed him I restarted entirely until I found out he doesn't die he just hides away.♥️♥️♥️

[satori-runa]

—The red means I love you.

Summary: Mr Scarletella doesn't like to wait anymore and makes his move.

Tags: Mentions of blood, yandere behaviour, obsession, slight stalking, fluff, slightly ooc

Words: 1,6k

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Blood dripped from your fingers, soaked into your clothes, and splattered across the floor in your wake. It didn’t matter if it was yours or someone else’s anymore. All that mattered was surviving in this weird place.

You paused to catch your breath, the cold air burning your lungs as another wave of dizziness hit you. Somewhere in the distance, you heard it—the soft, shuffling footsteps that never seemed far behind. He was still following you. He had been for a while now, his presence a constant shadow.

Mr. Scarletella.

He rarely spoke, but you could feel his pitch black eyes on you, his gaze almost tangible as it traced the lines of blood staining your clothes. The quiet creaking of leather shoes echoed through the hallway, growing louder. You turned, the crowbar raised defensively, and there he was—standing just a few feet away, partially hidden by the dim lighting.

He was a spectacle in crimson, the vibrant red of his suit blending almost seamlessly with the blood that covered the ground and the red light on the walls. His head was tilted slightly, a mess of scarlet hair falling over one eye as he stared at you. His smile was small, twitching at the corners, as if he were struggling to hold it back. And then there was this scarlet umbrella he was holding…

"You," he mumbled in his own language, his voice barely above a whisper. He took a small step closer, the leather of his shoes slick against the wet floor. His eyes were wide, pupils blown out in a way that made him look unhinged. He raised one gloved hand, fingers twitching, as if he wanted to reach out and touch you but was restraining himself.

You took a step back, crowbar still raised. "Stay back," you ordered, though it sounded more like a plea than a command. You weren’t even sure if he could follow your demands.

His head tilted further, almost like a curious dog. "Like," he muttered, the word shaky and filled with awe. His gaze fixated on the blood staining your shirt. "Like... you."

It was a childlike declaration, simple and obsessive, as if he couldn’t fully articulate the depth of his emotions in the language he spoke. He took another step forward, and this time, you noticed the way his hands shook, almost vibrating with excitement.

He pointed to the blood on your clothes, then back to himself, his smile widening. "Like... same," he murmured. He gestured between the two of you, as if connecting invisible threads. The blood. It was all the same to him. You were the same. You were his. You did this for him. You were like that for him.

You swallowed hard, backing away. "You need to stop following me," you said, but even you could hear how empty the words sounded. He wouldn’t stop. You knew that. You could see it in his eyes—the absolute devotion, the unblinking adoration.

His smile faltered for a second, his brows knitting together in confusion, almost like he didn’t understand why you were upset. "You," he stammered, taking another step. He was so close now, you could smell the coppery tang of blood that clung to him like perfume. "With... me."

He reached out slowly, fingers splayed wide, as if he were afraid you might shatter if he touched you. The moment his hand brushed against your cheek, it was cold and wet with blood. “Me like you.” He sighed, the sound almost blissful, like he’d been waiting his whole life just to be this close. “You like me?”

You flinched away, slashing out with your crowbar, but he was faster. His appearance glitched and before you knew it, he teleported. He caught your wrist in a tight, almost bruising grip, his expression twisting into something unreadable. His smile had disappeared, replaced by a wide-eyed, manic look that sent a shiver down your spine.

"No," he muttered, his voice barely audible, like he was scolding a child. He pulled you closer, his grip unrelenting. "Mine. Like you. Same."

It was almost pathetic, the way he whispered it, like he was pleading with you to understand. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath shaky and uneven. The blood from his gloves smeared across your skin as he cupped your face, his touch almost reverent.

"Stay," he breathed, the word cracking at the edges. "With... me."

For a moment, you thought you saw tears welling up in his eyes, but then he blinked, and they were gone, replaced by that disturbing, gleeful smile. He didn’t need your answer; he’d already decided it for you.

You tried to pull away, but he only held you tighter, his fingers digging into your skin. His smile stretched wider, as if he were thrilled by the struggle.

"Like... you," he whispered again, almost lovingly, his voice broken and raw. "Together."

You realized then that there was no escape. Not from him. Not from the Otherworld. And as his laughter echoed down the hall, low and guttural, you knew he’d already decided your fate long before you’d even realized he was watching.

“Me grateful for you. Me like you. Me want you.”

You kept your crowbar close, tucked against your side, but you knew it was useless. You’d tried to fight him before, slashing at his chest, hitting at his arm, but it never seemed to faze him. If anything, it only made him more excited, more desperate to keep you close. His suit was stained with both your blood and someone elses, merging into a deep red that matched the look of obsession in his eyes.

His pace slowed as he pulled you into an empty room, the door creaking shut behind you. The walls were stained with splatters of old blood, the floor sticky beneath your shoes. He stopped, turning to face you fully, his hands coming up to frame your face as he dropped the umbrella for a moment. You could feel the wetness of his stained fingers against your cheeks, the metallic smell of blood overwhelming your senses.

You tried to pull away, but he only leaned in closer, his nose almost brushing yours. "Pretty," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "You... pretty. Blood." His thumb traced a line down your cheek, smearing blood across your skin. He seemed mesmerized by the sight, as if he couldn’t look away.

"Mr. Scarletella, please," you managed, your voice trembling. "Let me go."

He frowned, the expression so out of place on his usually smiling face. His grip tightened slightly, almost as if he were afraid you’d vanish if he loosened his hold. "No," he whispered, shaking his head. "No... like you."

He brought your face even closer, his breath warm against your lips. You could see every detail of his face now—the tiny splatters of blood on his skin, the way his pupils were blown wide with an intensity that bordered on madness. He wasn’t blinking, wasn’t even moving, just staring at you like you were the only thing that existed in his world.

You tried to turn your head, but his fingers dug into your jaw, forcing you to face him. It was almost gentle, the way he held you, but there was an undercurrent of possessiveness that sent a shiver down your spine. He tilted his head, his smile returning, small and soft, as if he were looking at something precious.

You’d been trying so hard to avoid his gaze that you didn’t notice how close he’d leaned in until it was too late. You moved suddenly, trying to wrench yourself out of his grip, but the motion was too quick, too abrupt. Your lips collided with his, and you froze.

It was just a brief, accidental kiss—barely a brush of lips—but it felt like time stopped. His entire body went still, his eyes widening in shock. For a second, you thought he might pull away, let you go, but then his hands tightened around your face, fingers trembling.

"Y-You," he breathed out, his voice cracking with something raw and vulnerable. "Kiss... you kissed."

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding in your chest. "It was an accident," you insisted, your voice hoarse. "I didn’t mean to—"

But he wasn’t listening. He was staring at you, his expression one of pure, unfiltered adoration. His lips parted slightly, his breath shaky, as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. He let out a soft, broken laugh, the sound almost joyous, as if he’d just received the greatest gift in the world.

"Like me," he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. His voice was so quiet, so full of desperate hope. "You... like me."

He didn’t give you a chance to respond. He leaned in again, his lips hovering over yours, his breath mingling with yours. It wasn’t a kiss—not really. It was like he was waiting for permission, waiting for you to do something, anything, to confirm that this wasn’t just in his head.

You could feel his heartbeat racing against your own, the warmth of his body despite the cold, damp blood soaking his clothes. You knew then that he wouldn’t let you go—not now, not ever. In his mind, that accidental kiss had sealed your fate. You were his now, just as he was yours.

And as he pulled you into a tight embrace, humming softly under his breath, you realized you had no choice but to let him hold you, his face buried against your neck, whispering broken, loving words that would haunt you forever.

The minute he let go of you, you took the umbrella he dropped into your hand, glancing at the scarlet color before Mr.Scarletellas hand touched yours. A promise to keep you by his side.

[sheilder]

You_what_name?☔️☔️☔️

[milkmily]

Together

ᝰ.ᐟ❣️⋆˙──────────────────────────

Mr.Scarletella x fem Reader

Smut I Saw like a theory in tik tok where it said (something like this not quite sure) that MC would leave bodies right and Mr Scarletella would think that she'd do all of that for him so he would be super interested in them. So imma use that :D also reader Is in college because I don't like using the term “school” cuz its uncomfortable and i'm writing smut.

Ahead: Unprotected Sex(stay safe:p) and biting also sorry it's super short 😔

“Me want your name.”

This had always happened. Well, like maybe 2 times. But now, he won't leave you alone after you have found out what you have done. What you really are. You just aren't some cute woman who goes to college. You were a murder. Why? Just to get that adrenaline that would come with it.

As you took their lives, you had always had this feeling as if someone was looking at you. Eyes. Always, always, Always on you. At everything you did. But you'd turn and check every corner and nothing. No one would be there. Maybe you were just paranoid. You haven't even been caught yet. So it wouldn't matter. And now here you are, face to face with what has been looking at everything you have ever done. Mr. Scarletella.

“You give your name?”

He asks. You had two options. Try to beat him, even though you knew that wouldn't work, or finally give your damn name to him. You remembered the telephone had told you to not give your name. Mr. Crawling had protected you the first time you had met Mr Scarletella. You threw your crowbar at him and he started to glitch. He asks again and you didn't answer, attacking him but again, it went right through him. And everything changes. You open your eyes and see him face to face with you. You hold your crowbar high and your eyes go wide at what he said.

“You like me? Me like you.” He says and you give him a puzzled look. “What?” You asked as you lowered your crowbar. “Let us go together. You teach name?” You groan and throw the crowbar at him again. And you start to speak back to him. And finally.

“like you.” You say and everything is back to normal. You open your eyes to see an umbrella. You picked it up and looked up at it. It's a normal umbrella. It isn't red. You looked down and saw a hand on top of yours, you screamed and threw the umbrella. You looked around and saw Mr Scarletella looking back at you. “Together.” He says as he is now in front of you. You gulped and took some steps back. You blinked and he's gone, but you feel warm breathing behind you. You felt his hands on your arm as he said again, “Together.”

“W-What?!” You ask and feel his warm breathing on your neck, goosebumps all over your body. “Together.” He says again and you feel small kisses on your neck. You gasp and feel your body heat up. “W-Wait-” you felt his hands start to go all over your body. they'd move from your arms down to your hands and move to your stomach. He'd gently and softly move them up and his hands bumped onto your breast. You softly gasp as his lips meet your neck. “You give.” He says. “You give. Grateful.” He says as he keeps kissing your neck, making you moan. “Grateful.” He whispers on to your neck as his hands move under your shirt.

Oh. You remembered now. The bodies. The things you'd say while killing them. “If someone is here watching, these are all for you.” Oh. “You're returning the favor?” You ask but his hands continue to move higher and his kisses move to your shoulder. You shiver and hold your arms up as the shirt is lifted up to reveal your breast, your nipples hard from being turned on. You should Be scared but…you aren't. You've always been interested in Mr Scarletella. You just never could get close to him or else he will keep asking about your damn name.

And now here he is. His hands cupping your breast as he kissed your neck. Your moan and gasp. You pulled his hands away and he stopped kissing your neck. “Why?” He asks and you turn to look at him. You smiled at him and he gave you his wide smile. “Me like you. You like me?” He asks again. “Me like you.” You say to him as you try to reach up to him. He lowers himself to your height and you cup his face. “You like me.” He says and you nod. He tilts his head to the side as he grins and holds your hand.

“Together.” He says. he moved his hands to cup your breast again, moaning. He knew you were feeling good with the sound you made. The expression on your face. He hummed and looked at you. You were perfect. You may not give him your name, but that can be for later. You were his now. You are his now. No one else's. You are his either way.

He pins you on the floor, straddling you. The floor is so cold against your bare back. You yelp and look up at him who was on top of you, his hands on the floor as he was on top of you, Grinning. His red hair still somehow covered one of his eyes as He looked down at you. You looked at him and tilted your head. “Together.” He says again as he moves his hand to cup your face. His hands are so big compared to yours. He only really only needs one hand to perfectly fit your face. His face got closer To yours, his breathing on your face.

You couldn't help but whimper at how close he Is. You could already feel how wet you were. Your pussy is aching for him already. He grins down and looks down at the clothes you were wearing. He slowly lifted up the coat you had on and pulled your pants with your panties down. You lift your hips up to help him. You continue to look at him as he keeps looking at you. The way he looked at you had your body reacting. And then you asked yourself: He knows what to do already? Maybe he had seen a lot of incidents where people would Go where he is to ya know, just have sex. Or who knows. All you know is he already knows what he is doing.

He looks at you and grins as his fingers rub between your wet pussy lips. You softly gasp and look at his hand. He closed your lips together, making You jump. “Like?” He asks and you nod. He greatly presses his finger to your clit and starts to rub. You open your legs more as he keeps rubbing. He lowers his head as he brings your nipple in his mouth. You whimper and look down at him. He picked and gently bit down on your nipple. “Ouch.” You whine and look up at you. He grins and continues to suck on it.

He brings his hand back up and Teases your other nipple. He starts to rub himself on you. You felt how big he was though his pants already. You gulp and moan.

You suddenly felt something warm and wet rub up and down your clit. You looked down and saw his cock out, rubbing between your folds to get his tip wet with your arousal. You couldn't help but moan at the sight. He was still sucking your nipple and It was starting to get sore. You pull his head away and he looks at you. He grins and presses his tip at your cunt. You open your legs a bit more and your hips closer to him. He lifts your hips Up, making you yelp. You looked up at him and he gently pushed Himself in your cunt. “Together.” He says and groans. You rolled your eyes back quickly as you felt how he stretched you out. You moaned and looked at him.

He starts to move his hips as he looks down at how your pussy would suck him in. He brings His thumb to your flit and starts to rub it. You moan and hold on to your hair as he keeps thrusting.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

You were on the cold concert floor, your face on the floor, ass up as Mr Scarletella moved his hips, he was panting fast and groaning as he kept pushing his cock in so deep and fast. “Ah! I can't!” You moan but you knew you wanted more. How many times have you come already? Jesus. He kept making you switch positions every time you came. He First had you laying down as he held your hips up. The next one was you riding him but you soon gave up so he simply grabs your hips and pushes you up and down. He's really strong. He had you laying down again but he held both of your legs just to go deeper inside of you.

Now he has your ass up as he keeps pushing in and out of you. His thrusting became harsher. “Mr Scarletellaaaa- ah! There!” You moan. You could feel how his cock came in and out of you, how warm and wet he felt. You whine and moan as his cock brushes your g-spot. “Together.” He kept saying and moaning. He really loved that word a lot.

You hold onto his hand that was on your hips. You turn to look at him, teary eyes As you moan. You were close again. You needed to cum on his cock again. You whimper and whine as he keeps thrusting into you, this time even faster. You scream and your toes curl as you bury your face on the floor, eyes rolling back as you cum on his cock. You hear him groan and feel something warm dripping out of your pussy.

You pant and whine trying to catch your breath but he quickly makes you turn around and lifts up your right leg. You whine and shake your head. “No-” You say and moan as he pushes his cock in again, slipping in so easily. He buried his face in your neck and groaned. “Together.” He says again and he thrusted. His thrust is a bit slow and more softer now. you wrapped your arms around him as he keeps moving his hips. You could hear a short whine coming from him as you tug at his hair. You whimper and whine. Every thrust Made you so sensitive and feel everything.

Mr Scarletella kisses your neck and whimpers. He's sensitive too. He could feel everything about you. But he just loved that he was finally with you, be with you, be in you. Be together.

A couple of more thrusts and he cums inside of you. He pulls out and pants as he looks down at your pussy that dripped out his cum. He groans and rubs his cum between your folds. He pressed his cock inside your entrance and said, “Together, again…” as he pushed his cock in, making you whine.

Hey @kita-01 and @misaamanekinnie21 , patiently waiting 🫡

[otoruuvv]

Wuxia!Au: Mr.Scarletella ☂️

This AU is so much fun to work on 😆

[pla-v-illgame]

【文字化化】 🎅MerryChristmas🎄 / fanart

【文字化化】 MerryChristmas🎄

主人公ちゃんサンタがみんなにプレゼントをお届けです。

HEROINE Santa Claus delivers presents to everyone.

[theaveragepsychoticbitch]

Cutting Tools

AFAB!Reader x Mr. Crawling/Mr. Chopped/Mr. Hood/Mr. Gap/Mr.Scarletella || NSFW || Scissoring, masturbation, some crack elements, pussy eating (receiving), a wee bit of plot in some of these, and obviously, AFAB characters ||

A/N: Watched playthroughs by Hello Yinny on YT! Check her out! Based off the poll!

Mr. Crawling isn't sure there's a word in either of your languages to describe how he feels when you present him with a pair of baby pink panties, a cute little bow adorning the front of them. And when you remove your clothes, revealing your matching pair, he knows for sure there isn't.

Sitting cunt-to-cunt, you on top, with his knees pressed to his shoulders and his large hands desperately grabbing at your calves and thighs, you figured you'd be just fine dying here and now.

You can feel his hole flexing through his panties, clenching and unclenching erratically. You haven't even started moving yet, and already his arousal soaked through the pink fabric, making it cling to his cunt. The very sight was lewd, even more so as you pressed into him, watching the outline of his lips squish as they kissed yours.

Long nails scratch your skin as you rock back and forth, slowly at first, studying Mr. Crawling for every little reaction he had. The bob of his adam's apple in his throat, the twitch of every muscle you could see as pleasure shot threw him, the way his back begins to bow, even restrained as he was. He was crying, wailing, pleading your name till it was mere babble even in his own language.

Taking a deep breath, you resist the urge to chuckle. He was about to cum– you could feel it in the way his hole fluttered –and you.... You haven't even sped up yet.

Mr. Chopped.... Doesn't have a body. But he does have enthusiasm, and what's sex without excitement?

You can't decide if he looks better with the underwear on his head, or over his face.

But, you suppose it doesn't matter now. Either way, he has a crystal clear view of your lithe fingers rubbing slow circles around your clit, a heart-shaped stain blooming in the orange fabric.

"Cute!"

His smile is so wide and genuine when he says it that you let it go. You're not sure if you would have accepted that description from anyone else.

Throwing your head back and spreading your legs wide, you slide realllll close, close enough that the print of your pussy through the panties is so clear, you might as well take them off. So close that had your finger not been busy abusing it, your clit would be touching the tip of his nose.

He can smell you, and it's making his mouth water. Your skin as sweat begins to drip from it, the intoxicating aroma of your arousal, so close yet so far. He wants to taste you, and you can see it in the wide-eyed stare he gives you as your hand slips past the lacey band and spreads your lips, slivers of each just barely peeking out the sides. Free of obstruction, arousal pours till it pools on the sheets below.

Want. One word he didn't have to teach you. When he said it, it was as clear as if he'd said in your own language.

"Want! Taste!"

His whining got louder and louder, tears beading as you scooted just out of reach right as he stuck his tongue out.

Aww, he's so desperate. It's mean to tease him like this. Hey– if you put the panties over his face, would that still count as scissoring?

Once again, it doesn't matter, because you're already stuffing his mouth full of your cunt, with the panties still on. And naturally, he's already slurping it like a man starved. His eyes are wide and excited, his tongue curious and rough. Orange irises dash between your face and your cunt, and you can feel him trying to speak as you grind along his tongue. He manages to push your panties to the side, his tongue bullying its way into your hole. He's eager, and you're close, and soon, your fluids are gushing down what's left of his throat, across his face, and wetting the matching lace panties you fit across his skull.

Later that day, you find he won't let you take them off. When he asks, "Me cute?" You can't bare to tell him no.

Mr. Hood... Also doesn't have a physical form. But you've scissored with less. Brought matching panties for less, too.

Wearing nothing but creamy brown lace panties, you figure this might be your most accurate twin yet. You almost couldn't take him seriously with that little brown bow attached to his hood. But you had to match somehow!

When you sat on top of him, cloak still on, an idea crossed you. Peeling the cloak back does nothing; but reaching in, you feel something. Trailing lower and lower, eventually, you find something. Something that could make Mr. Hood shiver and shake and gasp and moan.

To keep the cloak on and his form tangible, you had to let him get on top. He towered over you, flowing robes hiding much of your own form. But when your cores touch, it's worth it. When he rests on you, fully seated in proper scissor positioning, you're surprised to find how heavy he is. His lips kiss yours hard through the panties, the slightest of movements hitting your clit head-on.

Caring as ever, he checks on you when he sees you flinch.

"No... Good. More."

"Hurt?"

"Good?" His voice is surprisingly breathy, and you realize he's panting. His hips give a seemingly experimental roll, and you moan loudly.

"Yes, good! More!"

"More." He sighs it almost contentedly, his pace getting slower, his thrusts harder. It's mind blowing, and you soon find that you're the one left whining.

He's not silent either though; gasps are starting to escape, and in your attempts to meet his thrusts you find what must be his clit. His back bows, a noise rising from deep in his chest to fill the air between you as he grips the bedframe. You work hard to hit that same spot over and over again.

He's talking, but you can't hear past the pleasure. He feels so good, and he's so wet, and the lewd sounds coming from where you meet seem to make you more sensitive. It's somehow hotter when you can't see what's happening. Only feel it, left to imagine how his hole must look as it leaks and drools, his face as you fuck him back.

Then, he hits your clit hard. You scream as you cum, chants of "Yes, more" swimming at the edge of your consciousness as your vision goes white. For a few moments, you're floating. And when he cums on you, borderline babbling,

"Good. Yes. More. More. More," ...

You ascend.

Mr. Gap was a hard guy to catch, and even harder to put panties on. Like, what color would you even get them in? Broken vent grey? Hole in the wall white? Super scary shadow black? But he had a body. A hole, even. And you had a goal.

Deep in the darkness of what you would assume was a gap, you and Mr. Gap fight for dominance. Unfortunately, it's not nearly as hot as it sounds.

"Put these on!"

"Give heart."

It wasn't even a question! He has the audacity to tell you, like he has ANY authority here!

"Rrghhh-" you grit your teeth, groaning as you hold up the matching pair of black panties, line with white lace and adorned with a cute little black bow. At the center of it? An even littler white heart. Far too cute for this ungrateful ass.

Searching for the words, you attempt to communicate your frustration—

And then, it hits you. Kind of.

"...Me give... Me?"

His single visible eye blinks, confusion and interest blossoming in his gaze.

"Come here."

He does, and finally, you feel him. Freezing skin, a thin body, and... A warm cunt. It's a hassle to explain how you wrestled those panties onto him, but... There's emphasis on "wrestled."

At last, you have his legs locked tight around you. One over your shoulder, the other wrapped securely around your waist. You could hear how quickly he was breathing as if he were right next to you, feel every shudder of anticipation as if they were yours. You're beginning to think that this "gap" isn't just a space he resides in, but in some form, it is him. A part of him, at least. And it was feeling everything you did to him just as much if not more.

You roll your hips, and it seems as if the whole space pulsed. God, he's sensitive; that one thrust made his back arch, broken nails clawing down the skin of your thighs hard enough to draw blood. He didn't moan, but his sharp intake of breath told you plenty. You couldn't see what you were doing, but it seems like you should keep doing it.

Once more, and you feel as if you're inside him, being clenched and gripped as though he'd never let you leave again. He cries out this time, and it's your name that leaves his lips. It's not often that you hear anyone say it, let alone him, and it catches you by surprise

"[Name]..... Give... Heart?"

'Old habits die hard,' you guess. You sigh, grinding backwards reallllllllll slow, drawing out a long moan from the spirit beneath you..... And then starting straight into the most brutal pace you can manage.

The reaction is immediate; his back arches high and hard, and you're leaning over him to hold him by it. His cries become screams, pleasure tearing his vocal cords to shreds as you mercilessly fuck him. The friction of the panties, the knowledge that they matched, and the complete loss of sight left you in a similar state. It was too much, you were too sensitive, he felt too good, he needed you too badly. You didn't mind when he clawed at your back to ground himself. It'd turn you on again later, seeing the blood on his fingers, the scars on your back.

Both of your legs begin to tremble, the pulse of the space numbing your brain to all but the feel of his pussy against your own. It was electrifying, to the point you didn't realize you'd cum till your limbs failed to hold you up any longer. Mr. Gap was in even worse shape; he'd cum a long time ago. Overstimulation had fried his brain, his eye glazed over and unfocused.

You can't even find it in you to be mad when, however long later it was, he whispers, "You.... Not give you."

How'd you say it again in his language?

"You lose."

Mr. Scarletella was more than eager to dress up for you. Any chance to see you was a blessing upon his evil soul, and every chance to please you was an opportunity to make sure you never need, or want, anyone else, ever again.

Mr. Scarletella didn't just have on red underwear. He was wearing a full lingerie set.

Caging you onto the bed with his massive form, his nose brushed yours with every heavy exhale he released. Blood red eyes more haunted than the very building you inhabited stared at you, hungry for something you were oh-so ready to give him.

Your gaze carried a similar hunger. It made him love you that much more.

Your hands hold his face far too tenderly, a sort of daze coming over you. All you wanted was to touch and feel and taste and have and keep and- was this you thinking, or him?

Your hands run over red lace, silk straps snapping against his skin as you pulled them. You only let one hand continue far enough to cup his cunt; it emitted warmth enough to burn you up, and bless if it didn't excite you.

"Change."

He listens, eager to please. Now he lay flat on the bed, you between his thighs. Your eyes sat heavy on his core, watching arousal gradually soak through until when you touch it, a thin string connects you even when you pull your hand away.

Red panties, red lace, red bow. You kiss him, in more ways than one. First, mouth to mouth; it's a stretch, but it's worth it to feel his intensity all poured into a single touch. Then, cunt to cunt; you cage his thighs beneath your own, savoring the sigh of relief you both give when your pussies meet. The touch is soft, the intensity high. You want no more than to fuck him like this, until peak after peak rolls by, until you can't move, until Mr. Scarletella can't speak, until he tells you his name.

And so, you do. There was never going to be a slow start with him. He's all fire and passion and pumping blood and beating hearts, and merely being around him leaves you infected with the need to do and touch and please and have and-

"Love..."

His voice is a shadow of its former self. A breathless husk, just barely caught and kept long enough to say one word.

"Love... Me?"

"Yes."

"Together... Long?"

"Of course."

"You...." His voice cracks, then breaks, the shards of his sentence lost within the echoing cries that rip from his throat as he cums.

You can feel his clit twitching against yours. Your own tears begin to pour, your own orgasm crashing into you, yet your hips don't so much as stutter. It's as though they were possessed by a separate entity, one that intended to bleed you both dry.

Hours continue like this, and his ability to speak is lost completely. At some point, your body fails you too, your ability to move now gone. Peak after peak have gone by, but...

In the silence of the room, hours, days, years later, he finally mumbles something.

"Hm?"

"Me..."

You don't even have the strength to open your eyes, but you imagine yourself quirking your eyebrow while tilting your head in confusion.

"Name...."

Wait...?

"Me... Give."

You don't have time to react. Before you realize, he's saying it, and your life has changed forever.

------------

A/N: believe it or not, Mr. Gap is my favorite. But Mr. Scarletella is special to me. I don't even LIKE yanderes! Mr. Silvitair not included cause I don't really like him as much lol :P

[fundashnee-rott]

I like the idea that mr.scarletella isn't chasing you because he's yandare but because he desperately wants to do the caramelldansen dance but can't really do it because he doesn't want his umbrella to get dirty and then he sees you and is like "please hold onto this."

[valeriascoat]

Mr.Scarletella x Reader

Ummm ehhhehe... Red guy, hawwooo.... Sorry for cringe 🙏

Your palm feels incredibly warm and alive compared to his own. A steady grip of your fingers, a focused face and a noticeable satisfaction with what you are doing – painting his nails.

Scarletella didn't quite understand why you were doing this, but just your attention to him was already an incredible wonderful, making the ghost's chest shrink into almost forgotten feelings. He didn't dare even move, for fear of spoiling something or knocking you off with even brush strokes. He just stared, as if fascinated, his eyes wide open.

And you, in turn, feel a hint of something adequate in this strange world. The simple act of painting your nails was surprisingly relaxing and allowed you to forget for a while about your frequent headaches and the oppressive atmosphere of ambiguity.

_

The "ghost in the red coat" became your "victim" on his own, as soon as he appeared in the hallway after you left the room with (strange words on walls) a makeup bag. You will not experience the fear of him that you had the first time you two met. Now, you meet him only with silence and a desire to get rid of his presence as soon as possible; he bowed his head owlishly in front of you and pointed at you in another attempt.

– Name… Say name.

The answer was silence and your action: suddenly taking his palm and looking at it closely. A second later, and at him too.

– I want to do good you.

Your language skills have improved, it's nice to know. Scarletella grunted questioningly, slightly arching his eyebrows. He didn't quite understand, but you were already satisfied that he didn't refuse.

_

And now he's sitting on the floor with you, obligingly letting you do whatever you want to do. In the process, he gradually began to enter a kind of trance, carried away by the noise of your breathing and random sounds from you.

But everything comes to an end, and your palm finally leaves him, signaling the end of the "beauty salon". Scarletella looks at you with his frighteningly empty eyes, in which there is an almost naive misunderstanding.

You chuckle, nodding your head at what you've done.

– Done. Look.

The ghost obediently raises his hands in front of him and curiously examines his nails. The red and black colors in his clothes are identical to the lacquers. It looks neat. Nicely. What you have done is always beautiful. You always do your best for him.

– You like?

The ghost wants to smile softly, as you always do when something turns out well and feels good for you. But his smile stretches crookedly and looks completely different from what he probably expected. You've known for a long time what he's trying to do.

– I like. Like. Very. I like!

A chuckle escapes your lips again. It's nice when the work is evaluated properly. He knows how to please, it turns out. How nice.

A moment later, Scarletella stops almost incredulously, feeling the warmth of your palm on the top of his head. He knows this gesture (by the way that scrawling guy did it, which he definitely doesn't want to think about next to you). But just touching turns into stroking, to which the ghost reacts suddenly with a quiet hum of static. It even seems that if he had the opportunity to breathe, he would hold it in amazement. It is clear from him that he wants to express something, but is absolutely unable to formulate words, his eyes widening in admiration.

Because then you laugh good-naturedly, not loudly, not even in a voice, only with sighs and rhythmic lifting of your chest and shoulders. How charmingly stupid this menacing ghost looked, it was only necessary to make such a simple gesture. You even want to call him cute.

Scarletella could have sworn on his damned soul that he felt his heart beating in his chest and his body getting hotter. It absorbs every sound and movement that you make, trying to remember everything completely. Empty eyes are now filled with something that amuses and… bores you every time, to your regret.

The stroking stops, the innocent moment ruined by his extra feelings, and you quickly stand up, taking your makeup bag and crowbar before he can do anything. But the only thing he can do is to break out of the trance.

And stare openly.

– Goodbye.

You say quickly and disappear from view. You would like to admit that you didn’t really want to, because for the first time you managed to touch another part of him that was not connected with some sick mania to pursue you. But alas, one hint of this ruined all the charm.

You don't need it.

At the same time, Scarletella finds himself overwhelmed by the growing vines of adoration for you. His hands shake slightly, as if he’s trying to remember the warmth of your palms on them.

How much do you love him if you treat him so well?

Give him more.

[jackle-fundashii]

Mr.scarletella night time fit would be like this;

[mimicstarghost]

Mr.Crawling and Mr.Scarletella 🖤❤️