scaramouche is observing you, amused. you've been shamelessly staring at him from across the room for the past half an hour, like a baby seeing a stranger for the first time. "come," he says, and pats his lap.
cw: heavy voyeurism, intoxicated reader, dom!scara, fem!reader, noncon elements (but reader is horny af), 18+
heizou, aether, kazuha and childe look up to watch you walk towards him while continuing their conversation. after the party died down, they were lounging around on the sofas, talking in low voices.
scaramouche grabs your hips to pull you on top of him without hesitation, making you straddle one of his thighs. your cunt throbs hotly, pulling at your belly. a little shift, a little friction - instinctual, to find relief.
"ah… that's what i thought." scaramouche smirks. "not surprising after you kept fucking me with your eyes."
"scara... she's really fucked up. i don't think..."
"come on." scaramouche interrupts, relaxed. "ride my thigh so everyone can watch."
you must be dreaming. his ethereal blue eyes are so close now, seeing you, only you. your body starts moving all on its own, craving. It's bliss. slick seeps through your panties, your lips part to gasp, allowing mewls to pass.
it feels so good. his thigh is firm and eyes are tingling on your skin. you feel like you're watching yourself, rutting so pathetically on the thigh of someone so painfully beautiful.
"tell me, angel," scaramouche mumbles close to your ear, voice thick with lust. one of his hands rests on the small of your back, caressing it warmly. "how about i stuff your needy hole with my fingers, mh?"
you gasp, tingling. yes. yes.
no conversations are held anymore. in the dimly lit room, only your gasps and moans are heard next to the soft ambient music as you ride his fingers, dizzy from substances and pleasure.
"clench," he commands, and you obey. twinging pressure sears through you, so deep and intense that it makes you want to whimper, plead. "let it out… haha… let it out, baby."
the pleas tumble from your lips like marbles. he laughs, breathless, as you seek your own release on his fingers, caressing and stroking your insides. when you falter, he thrusts them up with his leg, so hard that you feel it in your entire body.
you come with intense shaking. time stops, zaps of pleasure chasing you as you slump against scaramouche. slick slides down the sides of his bare thigh, where his dark shorts rolled up.
nobody speaks. cocks find their way back into pants. some kindly avert their eyes.
a strand of your hair glides through scaramouche's fingers. "i like you, y/n." he watches it get caught on the wetness that's still on his fingers. his other hand never moved away from your waist.
"i think i'll keep you."
