Sweet Release
**this was previously sent as an ask under anon, but have since decided to make my blog a Genshin-based fic blog! I’ll be posting whatever drabbles I have written here as well in the following few days.
Summary: Scaramouche gets a treat :3c
Contents: ((NSFW 18+)) overstimulation, blowjob, cock warming, edging, face fucking, cumshot, facial, sub!Scara, service dom reader
“Ahh—please-—please-”
For the past few hours, Scaramouche has sat in this chair, limbs trembling as you stay between his knees. Kitten licks and the barest of nips along his thigh soothe skin littered with blooms of purple (he’ll be perturbed later about having to cover up his thighs, but the pleas to continue reveal how much he enjoys the possibility of a hickey peeking from the hem of his shorts).
Unlike the few times before, you scoot closer, hands pressed to his inner thighs, and lips open to reveal the very warmth he craved. As lips touch weeping tip, you swear his hand rose to muffle a relieved sob.
Unable to speak, he slips a hand in your hair, combing through soft locks in silent thanks.
With little grace, he pushes your head down, nose meeting the skin of his stomach and full length filling your mouth. “FUCK—!”
Scaramouche sobs your name, rolling his hips against your lips as if he’d reach deeper. The fingers woven in your hair pull you back up for a sweet gasp of air before pressing back down. After a few tentative movements, he lifts up just enough off the chair to start thrusting.
He chases the quickly building feeling of pleasure coiled in the pit of his stomach with each brush of his cock head to your lips.
So close, so close, he tries to murmur, though once again he finds his voice caught in his throat when you start humming around his shaft.
“Wait–”
Eyes widen at the mischievous glint in your eyes, the sudden sensation of you hollowing your cheeks and moaning triggering his orgasm.
He pulls out as his cock starts to dribble thick ropes of white, a line connecting from your lips to his tip. The shaky hand tangled in your hair instead tips up your chin with the other stroking himself through his orgasm. With each spasm, another rope decorates your cheeks, another bit falls into your eagerly awaiting mouth.
As it slows, Scaramouche heaves breath after breath to help cool his heated body, slumping back into his chair.
You lick your lips and grin at him. He huffs and turns to hide his own smile.