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    Summary

    “Mmm,” Childe hummed, pulling away with a wet pop and admiring Scaramouche’s flushed cheeks. He tugged the shirt from Scaramouche’s mouth, cupped the balladeer’s cheek, and ran his thumb across the soft curve. “You’re so cute. Did you know that?”

    “Stop saying such nonsense,” Scaramouche groaned, squeaking when Childe kissed him hard. The ginger devoured his moans and gasps, and the doll could only helplessly kiss back, pressed hard against the couch. He was completely weak, going boneless against the sofa while grabbing Childe’s shoulders, moaning softly into his open mouth. It was hot and heavy, and Scaramouche couldn’t breathe properly, pulling for a few seconds only for Childe to cage him against the cushions and smother him with kisses.

    It was messy and hot, but fuck was it everything that Scaramouche wanted.

    Series
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