#foxwrites

[daydreamingfoxglove]

Snippet from my Drinny Fall Fest 2024 fic.

Malfoy gasps, a hand clasping at his chest, a posture that looks awfully endearing in his massive frame. “I do not snort, Ginny.”

“Aha! You can say my name correctly.”

“I never said I couldn’t.”

“So you just like being difficult.”

Malfoy takes a step into Ginny’s space. The air around her shifts, and she finds herself shrouded in a rich, smoky aroma of sandalwood and vetiver that has the outer edges of her mind fading into haze.

“I can be easy, if you like,” he says, his voice sounding so much like it did when he'd laughed – low with a rich timbre that sends a shiver down Ginny's spine – “but something tells me you'd find that entirely too boring.”

Echoes Of The Heart

[WIP | E | Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley]

Along the journey of adjusting to life after war, Ginny finds Draco Malfoy and his pack of misfits.

Prompt: Werewolves

Featuring: werewolf Draco and Ginny who is trying to figure out life after war.

Read on AO3!

[fox-bright]

A dream.

I dreamed I was an orphan child, dressed mostly in rags, following a caravan. Horses, carts, wheelbarrows, maybe mostly a merchant caravan? There were guards, and they kept me from getting too close to beg for food.

An old man all in black and dark blue started sharing his food with me in the evenings, and his fire. It was a several-month journey, and I was sticking as near the caravan as I could creep, so that I'd be safer from bandits that preyed on travelers in the desert. I never saw the old man sleep, but once in a while he said he'd keep watch while I did so, and I grew fond of him pretty quickly.

Mostly what I remember of him from the dream was that he told stories. Not the kind I was used to, not the funny stories about who tricked whom or who got kicked by a horse when they tried to sneak into a woman's blankets, they were stories about palace intrigues and the movements of armies, complicated things that always seemed ultimately to have a moral--avoid cruelty, avoid greed, consider the effects of your actions on the people around you. I asked "Are you a monk?" and he tilted his head and smiled, and said nothing.

Bit by bit, my being seen with him brought me closer to the caravan. Eventually I was allowed to sleep within the glow of its firelight. A little while later, one of the kinder guards would slip me bits of dried meat when he thought no one else was looking, and once or twice even tangy dried fruit. Someone, or someone's mother, gave me a pair of shoes that a child had outgrown on the trip. I don't think I'd had shoes before, only sometimes wrapped rags around my feet if the air was cold. It seemed that everyone knew the man--and lots of him did, in fact, call him That Monk--and knew him to be a good judge of character. It seemed that the old man was known for good deeds, for the quiet word that interrupted an argument, for tireless effort to help in times of trouble (mending a cart wheel, caring for a sick horse or injured herd dog), for feeding hungry children like me.

With acceptance came other conversations, sidelong at first and then openly, about the weather and where we'd all come from, about where we were going and what we hoped to be when we got there. I didn't have any particular reason to think that the new city I was headed to would be kinder to me than the last, but home hadn't been safe for me anymore, and if I was very lucky I could find some sort of apprenticeship. One of the merchants hoped to become rich, another had already traveled this route a dozen times in his life, and scoffed at the idea. A grandmother was going to be with her son and his family, now that her husband was in the ground--she couldn't wait to see the sea again, after her entire adult lifetime spent so far from where she'd been born.

That Monk didn't have any goal, he said. The older merchant murmured that he'd encountered him more than once on this road, over the years, and that he'd already been known here when the merchant was young. "He doesn't settle." he said. "Maybe his sort can't."

All the same, I tried to convince him. "If I get an apprenticeship I could afford us a room. It's going to be autumn when we make it to the city, you should at least stay through the winter." I hadn't had any dreams about family in a long time, and he'd become precious to me. I harassed him for two weeks, until finally he sat me down alone after the rest of the caravan was asleep and said he was going to tell me something he hadn't told anyone else in a long, long time.

And he told me another story:

"Long ago, when I was young and fierce, I was also very wealthy, and thought that gave me virtue. I was the brightest son of a family of strong warriors, raised to know that everything I looked upon belonged to me, and I could do as I would. And oh, I did. I wreaked war on my neighbors on all sides, and added their wealth to my own. My father eventually joined our grandfathers in the afterlife, and I became the ruler. To do honor to my forebears, I conquered without mercy. I burned villages if they would not submit to my rule, I sacked cities, I ordered the deaths of as many people as there are fish in the Yangtze. And my empire flourished and shone, and I was glad.

As I grew older, of course there were rebellions. And I and my captains put them down. Once, there was an attempt at a coup within my own palace. I had the ringleaders tortured to death publicly over the course of a week, and held a feast while their families were driven into the desert. The face of the world was changed by my hand, and I reckoned it only appropriate, because after all I was strong. And bit by bit, violence by violence, I grew old.

When the fever came, I knew that I would not survive it. I had already assigned duties to my heirs, as I would not see my great empire destroyed by bickering after I was gone, and I settled riches on my wives, and I knew the rattling in my chest was an announcement of my fate.

I grew very weak. I thought about what was to happen to me next, about what gleaming company I would enter as I died, about my grandfathers and the stories we would tell about our triumphs. Half-dreaming, sick and delirious, I saw them arrayed about me in their armor and their finery, and I waited to see them smile and welcome me. But their faces were hard with grief. And I knew all at once that I had no time left, and that I was about to be consigned to one of the bitterest hells. I had committed so many acts of war, to no purpose but to add to my majesty. I had caused so many to die, and killed so many with my own hands, that the weight of their suffering would drive me down for the rest of time. I was filled with despair and self-loathing.

I had known some power beyond that of the spear, and I had read many books, and with my last breath I made a bargain. I said, let me not yet enter hell. Let me instead try to rebalance my karma, let me do good where for so long I have done violence. And my grandfathers said, You have no time. And I begged them, I do not ask to live. I only ask to find some way to atone.

And I opened my eyes for the last time, and I was alone in the room. And I closed my eyes."

I looked at him in disbelief, where he leaned back against against a bag beside the dimming fire, all his darkness limned in gold. His eyes were narrowed to slits, and I did not think he watched me. I took a long breath. "It is a story." I said. "It is." he said. "Go to sleep."

I slept.

When I woke into a bright morning, I did not ask him again to stay with me. I did not ask him for anything at all. The mother who had given me her boy's shoes watched me with concern, and rested her palm on my forehead for a minute. After some quiet discussion with her group, she said that today, I could ride on her cart and rest.

But I was a child, and children smooth things over. And after all I had been alone for so long, without an adult to trust, why would I throw this one away? Life went back to normal.

We were very near the city now. Near enough that the guards began to be on edge, because with proximity came greater danger. We hadn't seen any bandits on the road, had once seen a cloud of dust on the horizon that came from the hooves of many horses but had never been close enough to hear their riders. But there is no point to raiding a merchant caravan unless you can sell what you take from it, and cities have many people who would buy from anyone. So it was perhaps inevitable that the last night we would be camping outside, we were attacked.

I snapped awake to the sounds of screaming horses, and screaming people. My fire had died down, but I could see the rest of the caravan's fires being stoked bright, I could see women thrusting their children behind them. I heard laughter from the shadows behind me, and when I turned there were bandits, their faces very cheerful and upsetting. They were between me and the safety of the caravan, so I ran into the dark.

I was small, and not very strong. I didn't get far. There were half a dozen of them here, and they grabbed at me, and all I was was screaming and kicking and biting. One of them caught my heel, and my shoe peeled off as I hauled my leg back to kick again. And then there was all at once a sort of silence, a stillness that came over us like a blanket, like sleep. In my lungs the air felt freezing cold, the stars above were clear and untwinkling. And behind us all, That Monk cleared his throat.

"If you don't put the child down, turn and leave this camp, I will kill the lot of you." he said. His voice wasn't loud. There was no anger in it, though there was a sort of sleepy anticipation, and an absolute confidence. All the hairs on my arms went up, and I was shouting again, but this time at him, begging him not to do it. He'd been working a thousand years to balance his karma, if he killed these men--if he killed these men!

They dropped me roughly on my tailbone, drawing weapons, diving for That Monk. And for a moment I had double vision, there was his wrinkled, smiling self, all his dark rough clothing, and there was a man in his thirties, dark hair falling to his knees in a high tail, shining lacquered armor catching the light from the caravan fires. Drawn sword catching the light more sharply, blood red. He moved through the bandits like a flicker, or a swallow, some darting thing, like a child's kongzhu toy jumping from string to string. But everywhere he landed, a blade darted out, and someone fell.

It was over in moments. I'd barely had time to bring back the breath that had been knocked out of me when I was dropped. My heart was in my throat, and my eyes welled up, looking at the old-young king-monk who had saved me. "Stupid! What were you thinking! You were almost free!" I shouted at him, finding my feet and running to pummel him on the chest with useless fists. "My life is worthless! You should have let me die!"

He laughed under his breath, and fixed the tie in my loosened hair. "If I had done that, if I had let you die out of fear of soiling my karma, what would have happened to me then?" he asked me. "What weight would have been added to me, what shame? Killing them was a more moral choice than cowardice." I blinked and rubbed my eyes with dusty fingers. Behind him I saw men in armor, men with cheekbones like his, men with jewels at their throats and quiet approval on their rough or elegant faces. And behind them, someone else, someones, all bright, hair and eyes burning white as the Moon--

And then I woke up.

[hyperfocusfox]

I'm starting to lean towards more bare bones or abstract character descriptions when I am writing. I used to try to work in hair color and eye color and skin color and what they are wearing and how tall they are and just every detail you could think of so you really REALLY knew what the person looked like. But you know what I never remember when I am reading a book? The original descriptions of characters. Especially if it was a long description. I forget that shit almost immediately. Most of my internal imagery comes from my impression of the character, a general vibe, and what they are doing.

So I think that unless a detail is plot relevant I'm probably going to try to give more general impressions than actual descriptions.

[fox-bright]

Humans are creatures of habit.

Not just when it comes to the food we like, the music we listen to, which grocery store we shop at, but deep-down stuff. The things we don’t even notice we’re doing. Daily life can become mechanical, executed by rote, so casually that even when you know the bridge is out you’ll find yourself driving there every morning, because that was the way you used to go to get to the gym. You’ll get most of the way or even all of the way to the detour, only to be reminded at the last minute by the sight of signage and men in hard hats, and you’ll think goddammit, I KNOW already, why did I come this way again?

So when I held the door open for Eddie, the way that I had pretty much every Monday morning for the last seventeen years, it took me just a minute to remember he was dead.

Eddie and I were friends. Maybe not the way that you can get with someone who knew you in childhood, but we were solid. I had him over to my cookouts, he took my family with his out to the lake some Labor Day weekends, both our wives had us sign cards for the other’s kid’s high school graduation. We played pranks, and we gave each other a rare hug now and again in times of grief—when his mother died, when I lost my dog—and we always knew, more or less, how the other was going to respond to this or that event. We didn’t root for most of the same sports teams, and we disagreed sometimes about local smalltime votes (I still don’t think the city should have sold that chunk of the park to those coffee-shop owners, he maintained until the day he died that him sitting there to have a sip while his wife was jogging had saved their marriage), but we were close on damn near everything else. I never had a brother, so I don’t know if there’s a difference, but if I had one I’d want him to be like Eddie. I didn’t know what my life was even going to be like, without him there.

So you might think it’s stupid that I held the door open for him, yawning, and said “Hey, Ed,” as he passed me with his customary half smile and two-fingered wave. I don’t know how long it takes for a pair of eyelids to blink closed and slide open again, but for that much time I’d managed to forget that it was Tuesday that he’d collapsed at his desk, gasping, clutching his arm, and it was only Friday that I held his wife while they put him in the ground. And then I remembered, and I was so startled I let go of the door. It smacked shut in front of me, leaving me out in the hot summer morning, and I stared through the glass at Eddie’s retreating back. He went through the front office and made the left turn that would take him to the back room that we both shared for CAD work and blueprint stuff, just like it was any other weekday morning. Jessica, the new-ish receptionist—she’d only been here three years, since Marcie retired—sat there white-faced and staring, eyes as big as peaches, so at least I knew I wasn’t cracking up.

I opened the door again and walked past her. She was mumbling “Did you see him? Did you see?” and I paused long enough to look at her and nod. “Don’t you worry none about it, Jessie.” I said. “It’s only Ed, you know he’s all right.” Her hand was on the phone, but she pretty obviously had no idea who to call. “You just breathe a minute, maybe get yourself some water, and I’ll go talk to him, okay?” She nodded quickly, still not having blinked, and I turned to follow my friend back to our office.

Eddie was standing in front of his empty desk, scratching his head. “It’s not April, is it?” he asked me without looking as I came through the door. He looked perfectly lifelike; his skin was a normal color, just a little ruddy as he always had been, and his clothing was the usual button-down shirt and jeans, not the suit they’d buried him in. He was turning his wedding ring around and around with his thumb, an idle habit he’d picked up years before I met him. That distracted me for a moment, and my mouth answered him with me only half running it, because I know for sure that ring is on a chain around his widow’s neck now.

“It’s, ah. Nope, Ed, it’s not April. D’you remember what month it is?”

“August, I thought. Almost time to haul the girls out to the lake, and maybe your youngin’ if she’s got a break from school? Mine don’t want to travel that far just for the weekend.” He finally turned to face me, grinning, and that’s when I lost my composure.

“Aw, dammit, Eddie.” I stumbled the three and a half steps between us like a drunk man, and I threw my arms around him. “Fuck, man.”

He hugged back reflexively. “Hey, hey, what’s up? Is everybody okay at home? Is something wrong with the kid?”

“No, the girls’re fine, they’re fine.” I knuckled the tears away from my face roughly. “Man, I don’t know how to tell you.”

“All my stuff’s gone, Mark. I get fired?” There was an edge of uncertainty to his voice now.

“God, no. Sit down.” I pull the chair out, missing the cushion he’d always had on it but still his chair. His wife had the cushion now, I brought it to her with all the rest of the stuff that was his to keep, the pictures and the awards and the desk-detritus that grows like a coral reef when you sit the same place for twenty years. I pulled my chair around from my own desk, and hunched over in it. “So, ah. Eddie. D’you remember anything about last week?”

“I remember that we’ve got that Bahmer deadline coming up, so you and I were gonna stay late on Tuesday, get a pizza and put the game on while we worked. I remember…” some shadow passed over his face and he went quiet.

“We did that. Got halfway through the game.” I said quietly. “Do you remember what happened next?”

He didn’t answer me.

I took a deep, shaky breath. “You’re always saying, every goddamn day you’re always saying you’ll rest when you’re dead. Well, boy howdy, Ed, but it ain’t fair to you for you to still be coming to work.”

He twisted his wedding ring another four or five times before he said anything.

“Meg and the kids.” He said it like a statement, quiet, but I knew what he was asking.

“They’re gonna be just fine. Kids’re gonna miss you for damn sure, but they’re strong. And you know Meg always had a hundred people to back her up, this ain’t gonna break her. Tina an’ I are gonna keep an eye on her. Figured—figured to maybe get her on the boat, out at the lake, for Labor Day.”

Eddie looked up at me, straight into my eyes, and it was like the breath knocked out of me. He still looked like himself, but there was something different there too. Like he was sharper around the edges, like the whole world was an old film photograph and he was in HD. Like he’s had a software upgrade, I thought, and didn’t really understand why. “What about you?” he asked, and his voice was his voice, it was, but it was like I was hearing something else too. Like the minute at the beginning of an orchestra where they all come together, where first it’s just one instrument and then it’s everybody? Only “everybody” was still just Eddie.

“Aw, Ed, don’t you worry about me none.” I said. “Me’n Tina got a long ways to go yet, and I’m gonna hang in there.”

It occurred to me that there was maybe something unfair about this whole interaction. “But god, I’m real glad you came to see me.” I said.

He smiled at me, and opened his mouth as if he were going to say something else.

And the door beside us slammed open, the boss throwing himself through it. “Mark!” he said. “Jessica’s saying the weirdest—” He must have seen my face, then, because he fell silent.

I glanced back at Eddie’s chair, already expecting what I saw. Empty. Other than the scent of that cologne his kids always got him for Father’s Day, no sign that he’d ever been there, and I could have been imagining that.

“You okay, Mark?” the boss asked, quiet now. I shrugged. “Jessica’s not a liar.” I said, and I stood up and wheeled Eddie’s chair back under his desk, and my own back to my space. “I figure some people just get used to some habits.”

He wasn’t at home with his wife, he wasn’t back up at the college with his kids, though I figured he might go check in on them all now. But all I could think was how lucky I’d been, the last two decades, to be part of his habit, and how lucky I was now to get just another minute with my friend.

I blinked hard, swallowed. My voice was about normal when I spoke again. “Got those Bahmer blueprints for you.” I said. “And after that, I, ah. Think I’m gonna take off, after lunch. Get the wife out for a drive, maybe.” The boss had known me a long time, and he didn’t argue about it, just took himself back to his office and left me be.

I’ve never been one of those philosopher types who thinks that the whole world and everything in it is a lesson. I think mostly the world is just the place you are, and you deal with what you’ve got to deal with, and catch a breath where you can catch a breath. But if I’m taking a lesson from this, it’s to relax when I get the time. Nothing can be put off forever, and some things shouldn’t be put off at all. I’ll take Tina and Meg up on the lake every weekend this summer, if they want to go, and I’m not pulling late-nighters anymore. We’ve only got a minute here, and I aim to make enough comfortable habits that I don’t feel like I need to stick around.

Your friend always said “I’ll rest when I’m dead,” so much that it became his catchphrase. He says it again today when he came into work, going about his daily routine. This normally wouldn’t be concerning, if not for the fact that you attended his funeral two weeks ago.

[mikupink]

Served with Fruit and a Break 〜 (Scaramouche x Reader)

!! NSFW !!

You have been warned.

• Word count: 2.6k

• Dom (slightly soft) Scaramouche, Female reader, Nipple play, Oral (f receiving), Rare praise

Note: This is more of Wanderer’s personality and character but written as Scaramouche for simplicity.

Scaramouche was at his desk, scribbling absent-mindedly while scanning over his assigned texts. How boring, he thought. There’s no reason for me to learn something I will likely never use in my life. He read a paragraph over and over again, his eyebrows raised in mild amusement. “The way humans write…” Scaramouche exhaled as he underlined some key words. “Entirely convoluted…” he muttered.

You gently knocked on his door and quietly sneaked behind his seat, and tapped on his shoulder with a plate of sliced fruit and snacks. “Wanna take a break?” You smiled at him, hoping that he would agree. But to your dismay, he flicked his hand as if swatting away a fly. “I have no need for food or breaks,” came his reply.

His rejection caused your shoulders to slump. “But…”

“No buts. Now stop being a distraction and go do your own assignments.”

Your brows furrowed slightly in annoyance and pursed your lips a little. “Well I’m taking a break.”

He didn’t reply as his attention was back on his textbooks. The way he brushed you off did irritate you a bit. You placed the plate down on his desk next to a pile of books and picked up a small slice of a banana, with a thought running through your mind. I’ll just do this and leave…

You grabbed onto his hair to pull his head back a little and shoved the banana into his mouth. Scaramouche’s eyes widened and he spluttered. You were already heading for the door but he gripped onto your arm and pulled you back. He spat out the piece of banana before speaking. “You little…” Scaramouche faltered before sighing. “You want me to choke?”

You averted your eyes from his intense gaze. “N-No… I just wanted you to take a break.”

He sighed. “I really don’t understand why you care so much but… fine. I’ll take this break so you can stop being a nuisance.” He let go of your arm and sat back down on his chair.

Great! You gave him a small smile then pointed at his lap. “Since there’s no chairs, I can sit here, right?” Giving him a playful wink, you were quick to take your seat on his lap, picking up a cherry and popping it into your mouth.

Scaramouche paused, feeling a little embarrassed. But he would never show that side to you. He sighed as he realised there really weren't any other seats for you. “Do whatever you want. Just involve me as little as poss—” he was cut off by you shoving another piece of fruit into his mouth. “Can you quit that?” He scowled when you looked satisfied doing that to him that he decided to take his revenge. He grabbed a blueberry from the plate and forced your mouth open with his other hand. “Say aah…” he smirked as he pushed the blueberry into your mouth. You closed your mouth after he let your jaw go, feeling your cheeks heat up. You were expecting him to shove it into your mouth as you did to him but to your surprise he was handling you quite gently. As you chewed quickly, you gazed into his eyes while he stared back silently. It was only when you swallowed that you realised you were staring so absent-mindedly at him that you turned away to pick up another piece of fruit. You brought the fruit up to his lips as he gave you a tiny smirk, slightly laughing at you.

“Heh… What’s the matter? Did you happen to get lost in my eyes?” Scaramouche opened his mouth as you fed him. “And quit feeding me like I’m a baby. Why are you doing that?” He frowned as he chewed.

You shrugged your shoulders. “It's just an act of affection.” You were looking at the plate instead of his face, with the hope that he wouldn’t comment on your flushed cheeks.

Scaramouche picked off the plate this time and brought the apple slice to your lips. “I don’t… think I deserve such treatment from you. Yet…” His thumb swiped lightly over your bottom lip as you chewed, giving you a small, ticklish feeling. “I feel… greedy…” he continued, his thumb pushing past your lips when you finished eating the apple slice. You felt his thumb caressing the tip of your tongue before he pulled it out. There were moments like these where Scaramouche would openly tell you his feelings. It was something you greatly appreciated.

“Feed me a cracker this time.” Scaramouche requested. You picked up a cracker from the plate and fed him, smiling softly as you said, “it’s okay to be a little greedy…”

A small smirk slowly formed on his lips as he swallowed. “Is that so? Then I hope you don’t mind me doing this.” He picked up a strawberry and held it between his teeth before leaning towards you. Scaramouche caught your chin, pressing his thumb and middle finger against your cheeks gently to get you to open your mouth. He pushed half of the strawberry between your teeth and bit down, so half was in your mouth and the other half was in his.

“Hm. Sour,” Scaramouche muttered as he ate his half of the strawberry. He noticed you not chewing. “I don’t mind taking my strawberry back, you know.”

You stuttered out a confused ‘huh’ as he leaned towards your face, his eyes locked onto your lips. His thumb pressed between your lips as his tongue snaked in, swiping the other half of the strawberry. Scaramouche pulled away slightly as he chewed with a smirk plastered upon his lips. It finally registered in your brain what he did. ”Thief,” you remarked, playfully frowning. You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull his head closer before lightly pecking his lips in a teasing manner. Scaramouche’s mouth tickled upon feeling such softness against him. His hands slid down to your hips, fondling them as he pressed his mouth against yours.

While you were kissing him slowly, you pulled away briefly and picked up a piece of fruit from the plate. You popped the fruit into your mouth then pressed your lips against his again, pushing the fruit into his mouth with your tongue as Scaramouche parted his lips. To your surprise, he spat out the fruit and slid his textbooks and notepad to the side before grabbing you off his lap and onto the desk instead. He didn’t waste a single second as he immediately pressed his mouth against yours in a searing kiss, groping and squeezing your curves through your clothes in order to force a gasp out of you so he could push his tongue inside your mouth. His hands slid up to hold your face, as he circled his tongue around yours in a slow dance. Your hands found purchase at the front of his clothes, clutching and wrinkling his Akademiya uniform while you wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer. Scaramouche finally pulled away when you needed air but he could not wait as his lips immediately trailed down the side of your neck, his hands pulling, unbuttoning, undressing you.

Scaramouche grunted as he felt your thighs squeeze his hips. “Aren’t you a little too excited?” He mumbled into your neck, kissing down until he reached your collarbone, licking it slowly.

“I think you’re the one who’s excited,” you replied as you caressed his head while one hand was running up and down his side, eventually inching its way between his legs, toward his hardening cock. Scaramouche began kissing the top of your breasts, while his hands squeezed them gently, his thumbs rubbing your nipples. He was licking the line between your breasts before he suddenly gasped against your skin, while you were amused by his reaction as your hand fondled his erection through his pants. His gaze shifted to your face, his lips forming a straight line as if to tell you that he will get you back for that.

He kept his eyes on your face as he very quickly closed his lips over one of your nipples, sucking harshly while he pinched and pulled the other, startling you and causing moans to slip out of your mouth. Scaramouche smirked as he began to lick, flicking your nipple with his tongue as you gripped onto his hair, squirming. You arched your back as he opened his mouth wider to not only suck on your nipple, but some of the area around your nipple as well. Your movements of pressing your tit further against his mouth only challenged Scaramouche to fit as much as he can, as his saliva began to dribble under your tit. He let go with a wet pop, admiring the way your nipple was glistening with his saliva, all swollen and sensitive. He glanced back to your face, looking into your eyes as his finger poked your wet nipple. You grabbed his hand and pulled it away from your nipple, trembling as you managed to breathe out. “It’s too sensitive…” You said as you covered your other nipple with your hand, knowing that he was going to treat it the same way.

Scaramouche lightly chuckled. “Hey… You’re the one who urged me to take a break. All this studying makes me stressed out, so…” he pinned your hands behind you as he continued, “I need your body to relieve my mind.” As he went to press his tongue against your untouched nipple, you twisted your body to the side, attempting to avoid his mouth. He growled in response. “Quit moving around like that or I’ll bite.” He threatened unseriously, trying to make you listen to his instructions but the sound of his growl had only excited you further as wetness pooled between your legs. However you decided to let him have his way, as Scaramouche moaned against your nipple when his lips made contact. He once again sucked roughly as you squirmed and trembled, trying to free your hands from his grip. He attempted to fit your tit into his mouth as much as he could as he played around your nipple with his tongue. If he continued his ministrations, it felt as if you could cum just from him playing with your tits…!

You sighed out of relief as Scaramouche finally pulled away from your breasts, admiring again at his work, as your tits were wet and messy with his saliva. “You look so good like this,” he whispered as he gazed at your swollen nipples. Scaramouche looked pleased with himself, then his eyes trailed downwards. “Of course, I must be neglecting something…” He flicked his gaze to your face. “Care to tell me?” Scaramouche asked as he then whispered your name.

“...Please,” with a shaky sigh you squeezed his hips with your legs again. Scaramouche finally let go of your hands as he pulled your outer clothing down and grabbed your knees to spread them apart. “Oh?” He murmured as he noticed the wet spot on your panties. “Mmh… enjoying yourself, weren’t you?” Scaramouche chuckled as pressed his lips against your inner thigh, kissing and sucking as you whined. He paused for a moment, as if thinking of something. “Hold on to me,” Scaramouche demanded. You complied and wrapped your limbs around his body as he proceeded to lift you up from the desk and set you on his bed. “I don’t want you making a mess near the books,” he muttered as he pushed you down, slotting himself between your legs, and grinding his clothed cock against your panties. “You feel so good…” he groaned blissfully as he continued to rub against you, causing your panties to stick to your pussy and the wet spot to spread. “So good…” he whispered in your ear. Scaramouche paused before hesitantly whispering again. “Good girl.”

You shivered when he whispered in your ear. “How unexp–,” you were cut off as he began to kiss you hungrily on the lips, thrusting his hot tongue into your mouth. Scaramouche kept his eyes open this time while making out with you, without you noticing as your eyes were shut, focusing on the feeling and texture of his tongue. His gaze, while normally strong, was soft as he kissed you, yet still a glaze of lust was evident in his eyes. He pulled away from your mouth and shuffled down your body, his indigo-blue eyes examining and memorising each and every curve, mark, spot, on your body until he hooked his fingers around your panties. Before he pulled them down, he met your gaze once again. “I do believe there is… one ‘fruit’ you have yet to serve me. Heh heh.” Scaramouche chuckled as he pulled your panties completely off. “Mmh… you smell good…” he remarked as he nudged his nose against your clit, causing you to immediately squeeze his head between your thighs. He groaned as he felt the soft skin of your inner thighs squishing his face, and he pressed his mouth against your slit as he mumbled into it. “This is the break I needed…” Scaramouche’s tongue poked and prodded at your opening, licking up all the slick, as he ran his tongue up and down your pussy. Your hands gripped onto his hair, tugging on it as you writhed in pleasure when he closed his lips around your clit and sucked. He didn’t mind how tightly you squeezed his head, after all he was a puppet who did not need to breathe.

Yet, it did bother him somewhat, as Scaramouche found it slightly difficult to thrust his tongue into your hole when your legs were closed around him. He pushed your thighs apart, by holding the back of your knees and pressing them against your chest, folding you however he wanted. “That’s better,” he mumbled as he dove right back into your pussy and shoved his tongue in, causing you to gasp and tremble as he moved his tongue in and out of your wet hole. As much as you wanted to watch him eat you out, your head was constantly thrown back due to the intense amount of pleasure he was giving you. Your orgasm was building strongly when Scaramouche decided to shift one of his hands from your thighs to your clit, instantly soaking his fingers in a mixture of your slick and his saliva, as he rubbed and played with your sensitivity while his tongue moved in and out of your pussy at a fast pace. His actions had only caused you to shake involuntarily as you began to chant his name while your eyes were glued to the ceiling. Scaramouche could tell you were on the very edge of a powerful orgasm when he began to mumble into your pussy. “Mmh…cum…cum…cum for me…cum on my face…I’ll keep…fucking you with my tongue…just…cum…!”

You pressed your palm over your mouth to cover up a loud moan as you squirted, the edges of your vision turning white as your climax washed over you, rendering you into a crying, shaking mess. Scaramouche could only watch your reaction in awe, as he was the one who made you react in such a hot way. His tongue slowly licked up your mess, as you quivered, trying to push his face away from your pussy. “Stop it… it's too much,” your voice sounded above a whisper while you glanced down at him. It seems you’ve made a bigger mess than you thought as you noticed your fluids on his face.

Scaramouche sat up, wiping his face with the back of his hand. He sighed. “I guess you’re due for a break, huh?” He pulled you closer to him by your thighs. “You have five minutes,” he chuckled as he eagerly rubbed his cock on your sensitive pussy.

Also posted on AO3. Do not share, copy, translate.

Thank you for reading <3

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

How would Croc, Bane, and Harley deal with an s/o whose libido is really high but hesitant to initiate? Like always dtf but, at the same time, not wanting to impose?

"Considerate but Wanting" Killer Croc, Bane and Harley x S/O (not poly)

While I don't deal with this particular issue, I do get why you'd be worried about that.

TW: NSFW

Killer Croc

THE PROBLEM IS... He is also very hesitant to initiate at first because of how he looks. Genuinely, he's so into you, he would consider just taking care of himself when needed to not put you out. He would take the romantic relationship over a sexual. Even with his more... carnal, animal tendencies.

There's a slim possibility he could even interpret your hesitation as not wanting that from him. It would get to the point that if you did ask, he'd insist you don't have to if you don't want to. He gets it.

Once you explain, however, he feels kind of silly about it? Not that you're silly or your concerns are silly, but that it was really just you trying to be nice vs. anything about himself. He might even joke "Because of course it had to be all about me, huh, sha?"

Tell him in the future. If he's not in the mood, he'll just tell you. The chances of that are fairly slim, though. Unless something is actually going on, he's more than happy to indulge in that wild side. Wanna go for a ride? He's not gonna complain about seeing you bounce on his cock.

Bane

He himself is fairly mindful (or at least tries to be) of things like this, so he understands. Everyone has needs and these needs should be fulfilled when possible- Whether with a partner or on their own. Plus, he'll make it clear there will be times he's not around. Whether because he's been incarcerated or his has business in other places too dangerous for you to attend...

It isn't something he would like per say or want, but he would be okay if you sought out those needs safely with a third party- Is that what this is about? He wants to be very clear and understanding on all levels of your relationship. That's just the kind of partner he is.

If it really is just a matter of feeling like you're imposing on him, he'll let you know it's not a worry. Typically speaking, even if he's not really in the mood himself, he's more than pleased to help you out. Whether it's a spicy phone call when he's away or... a helping hand between your legs when you are together- He doesn't want you to feel as if you're a bother.

In moments where he's truly unavailable either emotionally or physically, he'll just tell you. You're both adults. While some might not be able to handle these conversations with grace, he is not one of those people.

Harley Quinn

Probably the most appreciative of the gesture. She is also usually dtf most of the time but when she's off, she is off and doesn't want to feel hounded. Not that you would do that, of course, but... It's very sweet you're considerate of that. She's certainly had her fair share of partners that have tried to push even after she said she wasn't in the mood.

She would be delighted to eliminate your fear of imposition by hitting on you at every possible opportunity. If she senses that she for some reason is getting too much, she'll try to pull back but considering everything that's happened in her life, she's not shy. She's going to encourage you to not be shy, either! Be comfortable. The two of you can get real snug as a bug in each other's skin.

I think she'd really get off on seeing how long she could make that libido last. She's got a collection of fun toys you can sit on, get plugged into, whatever your fancy- She'll mark how many times you've cum in lipstick on your thighs. Or maybe you can do the same to her. It's all in good fun.

Expect spank bank pinup photos for when she's away or in an off mood. She's got you covered, sugarpop!

[mirovitae-visamare]

You are. I love you, mom.

girlbossed too close to the sun and ended up with a thing for calling my partners my parents whoops

[xirinelle]

i'm not supposed to be here… am i?

[juuchiruru]

that one meme

Twitter

[ttanaart]

four ships fanart that I took some requests from twitter

[daydreamingfoxglove]

HD Hurt/Comfort Fest 2024 Fic Claim

Something We Create

E | Fluff | 16.5k

Harry and Draco form a close friendship during their eighth year that lasts well beyond the walls of Hogwarts—it's clear to everyone that their feelings may not be as platonic as they seem to believe.

Years after Hogwarts, Harry lives with Ron and Hermione in their London flat. When his best friends get engaged, and Harry goes to live with Draco in his farmhouse, how long will it take for them to realise what everyone else can already see?

Featuring: Artist Harry, Mind Healer Draco, roomates, friends to lovers, idiot boys so in love

I throughly enjoyed writing for this fest. The amazing @hd-hurtcomfort-fest mods created such a warm and welcoming atmosphere and I couldn't help but write all the fluff. 💚✨️

Read on AO3

[fox-bright]

Re the war machine story and the 'unstable' robots:

That is one of the most beautiful stories I have read all year. Thank you so much for sharing it. :)

That's so kind of you, thank you so much! I'm really surprised by how much it's getting passed around--I do writing-prompt-s replies mostly as a way to shoo the moths out of my mental attic, and I write them in one shot without going back and fixing them because if I edited, I'd never post. As such, I always go "tch!" on a reread after posting, because of this grammar error or that discontinuity...I'm really glad that people are seeing a shining heart to this one despite all of that. <3

[hyperfocusfox]

Hello my name is Fox and I am trans and chronically ill and I like to make things, lots of different things (I have ADHD). Sometimes I work on writing sometimes I work on art sometimes I do miscellaneous crafts. Sometimes I just rant about stuff. It's going to be pretty random here.

-All my original writing will be tagged as #Foxwrites

-All my original art will be tagged as #Foxdraws

-All other misc creative content will be tagged as #foxcrafts

-Random posts where I am just talking about stuff will be tagged as #foxspeaks

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

About me:

Pronouns: He/They

[wandasfox]

— MASTERLIST ᗢ

❁ fluff | ✧ smut | ✩ angst | ♡ little space | 🜲 brat

ⴵ natasha | ᗢ wanda | ☉ lizzie olsen

WARNING: this is an 18+ blog. any ageless or minor accounts will be blocked. a lot of my work contains smut so read at your own risk!!!!!!

WHO I WRITE FOR: i mainly write for wanda maximoff, but i also write for natasha romanoff and other elizabeth olsen characters. you can request other people but i might not write them.

REQUESTS: OPEN

ONE SHOTS

✧˚ · . BE NICE | daddy!natasha x top!wanda x bratty reader ❁ 🜲 ⴵ ᗢ

SERIES

✧˚ · . coming soon

[mikupink]

18 Men for the 18+ (Part 1)

!! NSFW !!

You have been warned.

• Characters: Scaramouche, Tighnari, Childe, Thoma, Venti

• Word count: >300 each

• Female reader, slight degradation (Scaramouche) and spanking (Childe)

(Forgive the cringe title.)

Scaramouche

“Such a slut,” Scaramouche gently pulled your hair away and held it as you took his cock in your mouth. “That’s right, take it all in,” he whispered while watching you suck. When tears began to form in the corners of your eyes, Scaramouche slightly pulled himself out while petting your hair. “If you can’t handle it, you’re free to stop, (Y/N),” he smirked. You mumbled a reply sending vibrations up his dick. “Hah…” Scaramouche exhaled a shaky moan. “Let’s see what happens when you continue teasing me.” You suppressed a smile, deciding to toy with him further. Slowly, you pulled away from his cock, and leaned in to lick the slit, all while fluttering your lashes at his annoyed and flustered expression. Scaramouche let go of your hair, letting it fall. “Get up, you shameless little slut,” he demanded as you shakily got up, your knees hurt a little. Scaramouche took notice of your knees and pulled you close. “I’ll take care of you later. But right now I need to punish you, my naughty girl,” he whispered in your ear. He pushed you until your back was leaning against the wall while he was whispering dirty things in your ear such as how he was going to fuck you, how he wanted to make you cum on his fingers, how he wanted to overstimulate you until you begged him to stop; he simply wanted to break you. “Spread your legs.” Scaramouche demanded. “Wider.” He slipped his hand into your panties, groping and rubbing your pussy. He slid his slender fingers in, exploring until he rubbed against your special spot. His fingers moved faster and faster, your sweet release on the edge until you came, legs shaking. But Scaramouche didn’t stop. He slowed his fingers down but he was still fingering your squelching hole. You reached down and grabbed his wrist with both hands, whispering a ‘stop,’ and ‘it’s too much,’ but he simply clicked his tongue. “I did say I was going to punish you,” he said as he snatched your wrists together and pinned them above your head. “If you can cum a few more times on my fingers, then I’ll fill you up with my cock.”

✧❃☽〜 | | 〜☽❃✧

Tighnari

He was gentle. Always gentle with you. Tighnari hovered over you on the bed, nipping at the base of your neck, eliciting the tiniest whimpers from you. His hand slowly slithered up your chest and lightly closed his fingers around your neck. His mouth moved to your shoulder, and grazed upon your skin with his teeth. Again, very lightly, as you attempted to stop shivering from Tighnari’s feathery touches. He let out a breathy chuckle, “Does it feel good?” You replied with a yes, feeling his mouth open wider and bit gently onto your neck. How could you stop the moans as he kissed, and kissed, and kissed the spot that sent shivers up your spine. His long ears brushed against your face as he sucked and licked your breasts. You almost wanted to take one of his soft ears into your mouth, wondering how he would react. Instead you blew some air into his ear and felt him shudder. Tighnari stopped his ministrations on your chest and looked back at you. His cheeks were turning pink as he said, “You know my ears are sensitive. But don’t think…” He moved closer to your ear. “...Don’t think I won’t do the same to you.” You felt his hot breath fan against your ear. It was a ticklish feeling. Tighnari began to lick the shell of your ear and took your earlobe between his lips. His tongue was brushing against your ear, coating it with his saliva and then he kissed the spot right under your earlobe. You reached out to grab his ears, eager to see his reaction. “Mmh…” Tighnari whined. “I can’t wait any longer.” His cock strained against his pants. He swiftly slipped it out, tapping it against your clit. “Try not to be too loud, okay?” He smiled.

✧❃☽〜 | | 〜☽❃✧

Childe

“You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you~?” Childe smirked as his hand slapped your ass again. He had you splayed out on his lap with you lying on your stomach with your clothes pulled down and hanging on your calves. “Teasing me like that, grabbing me like you want me to bend you over and fuck you hard…!” Smack. You gasped out a moan as he caressed your skin with his calloused hand. “Now, you have all my attention, girlie.” His slapping ceased as he gently touched your pussy with his fingertips. “And you’re so wet for me…” Childe slowly pushed a finger in and revelled in hearing your whimpering. “How long will it take for you to cum now, I wonder~?” His free hand groped your chest before flipping you around so you laid on your back against the comfortable bedsheets. His fingers returned to your pussy, softly grazing the clit while he leaned over you, lips pressed close to your ear. “I know you’re so sensitive here,” he whispered as he massaged your clit before once again dipping his fingers into your heat. Your climax was building up fast as he flexed his fingers upward to rub against that spot that had you shaking your thighs, wanting to close them tightly. Obviously, Childe noticed and moved his knee in between your thighs. He moved away from your ear and grabbed your leg and hooked it on his shoulder. He began to rub faster as your climax approached. His fingers were relentless as you orgasmed, spasming as his rubbing slowed down and eventually stopped. Childe brought his fingers that were coated in your essence close to his mouth, licking and sucking his fingers while he watched you calm down. “It’s not over yet, (Y/N).” He said as you glanced down at his pants, his cock begging to be freed from its restraints.

✧❃☽〜 | | 〜☽❃✧

Thoma

A gasp was heard in the kitchen as you realised what a mess you made… cream, dripping down your face to your chest… some of it even dripping onto the floor. What’s worse, Thoma had decided that it was the perfect moment to check up on what you were doing. “...(Y/N)? Are you… okay?” Thoma carefully walked closer to you, grabbing a cloth and wiping the cream off your face. He couldn’t help looking at how delicious it seemed, his lovable girlfriend covered in white cream… a delectable dessert… His eyes narrowed as he took off your apron, and noticed there was some cream on your neck. You were still reeling in the shock of cream exploding on you that it took you a moment to see the lustful gaze on Thoma’s face. “I’ll get you cleaned up okay?” He said as he slowly licked your cheek. What sort of cleaning method was this? You wondered as Thoma kissed you, tongue slipping in and rubbing against yours. He then moved to your neck, licking and kissing wherever the cream was. Even if he already licked away the cream, he was still caressing your neck softly with his tongue. You shuddered at the contact of his tongue, as Thoma moved down to your chest, slipping off your top and immediately sucking on a nipple. You gasped in pleasure as he kissed, licked, and sucked on your nipple, while his hand toyed with the other. When he decided to swap sides, you pushed his face closer to your breasts, his mouth engulfing the skin of your breast more. Thoma mumbled something, then began to suck on your breast, causing a thrill of pleasure to run through your body. You felt wetter and wetter, as he continued to toy with your breasts until you felt too sensitive and pushed his face away. Thoma chuckled at your reaction, before slipping his fingers into your panties for a taste of his favourite cream.

✧❃☽〜 | | 〜☽❃✧

Venti

The night wind blew through your hair as you sat comfortably on your boyfriend. Not on his lap, but on his face, as he hungrily lapped up your juices. “V-Venti…!” You gasped as his hands gripped your thighs, not allowing you to move away as he thrusted his tongue deep inside you. One of your hands was pressed against your mouth to muffle your moans while the other was pulling Venti’s hair. Starsnatch Cliff was a popular spot for lovers after all, so the two of you found a secluded area for… such activities… He continued rubbing against your walls with his tongue as his fingers slowly crept towards your clit, touching very softly, causing your thighs to squeeze his face. You glanced down at him and noticed that he had a teasing little light in his eyes as he looked up at you, gradually rubbing your clit faster until you orgasmed in his mouth. If only he stopped there. No, he wanted to make you feel even better. With just a little bit of overstimulation. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you, he doesn’t want to hurt you, he just wants to make you feel good. His thrusting slowed down considerably but his tongue was still inside, exploring slowly and softly while you squirmed and trembled on his face. Eventually you calmed down enough and began to grind on his face, chasing another orgasm. It felt much stronger, as Venti began thrusting his tongue roughly, more faster than during your previous release. You felt him saying something, or at least attempted to say something, the vibrations of his voice only adding to the pleasure. His fingers then lightly hit your clit, jolting you as he continued tapping until you slumped over, after a powerful orgasm. You couldn’t handle his mouth on your sensitive pussy any longer and slowly lifted yourself off him. Venti sat up, wiping his mouth and chin with the back of his hand. “My sweet and adorable flower…” he pressed himself to your back. “You don’t really think that’s the end, right?” With a sly smirk, the bard whispered close to your ear, “After all, it’s only right to return the favour…”

✧❃☽〜 | | 〜☽❃✧

Do not share, copy, translate.

Thank you for reading <3

Upcoming characters: Kaeya, Alhaitham, Xiao, Diluc, Gorou, Albedo, Cyno, Ayato, Itto, Kaveh, Zhongli, Heizou, Kazuha

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

Can I ask for Croc and Bane with a short s/o? Just any general hcs having to do with height differences or how they see their s/o. (For example, do they feel extra protective of them, do they feel they need to be more careful?)

Killer Croc and Bane with a short reader

I mean if you wanna get technical, EVERYONE is short to them.

Tw: there's like one Suggestive line

Killer croc

- oh my god the (affectionate) clowning around he would do with a tiny s/o.

- Have you seen that meme where a short person puts their camera on their taller partner to see how they "look" to said partner? He wants you to do that and is probably guffawing at your reaction. You're so tiny! That's how he sees you all the time!

- He tries his best to not use too much strength with you. He just knows he's fucking ripped and big w/ claws. He's more worried about past/current anger issues hurting you more than you being small.

- In fact, you being so small means he can pick you up like a sack and sling you over his shoulder like it's nothing. (He thinks its SO funny if you fuss about it.) Yeah, he could do it to any of his partners given his strength but it's so EASY with you, fun size!

- oh you are going to get so many goofy ass nicknames related to your height- fun size, short stack, baby bird, his little beignet..... and he knows how ridiculous they sound.

- He will be very protective in certain venues, however. Concerts where you got standing? He is a wall blocking anyone from pushing at you. Crowds he's practically growling and snarling to give you breathing room. If anyone tries picking on you, he's There and Terrifying.

- he has tied a balloon to you so as not to lose you. When you point out he's so fucking tall there's no way he could lose you, he just gets this dumb smile on his face.

Bane

- He's the one that tends to act more like he might break you. I mean, he's actually broken people before. Snapped batmans back like a fucking twig that one time. He's acutely aware how easily he could.

- Yet you might notice thats A-Okay especially if you have any skin/body sensitivities. Him being careful is Good because even him being "gentle" is strong. He still picks you up around the waist like you weigh nothing if he needs you to move. Gives a light chuckle if you say anything.

- Talk about the big spoon. When you sleep next to each other, his body almost curls AROUND yours because of his size in comparison to yours. It's kind of like having a heated, weighted blanket. Nice during the winter but you'll probably want to make a pillow barrier in summer or you'll die.

- If you're ever somewhere you can't see above a crowd and it's appropriate, he's picking you up to put you on his shoulders. You can see, he gets his head between your thighs. Win-win.

- if hes ever feeling cheeky, he'll pick you up bridal style and pretend to use you as a weight, curling you up towards his body and kissing your face.

- The one time someone tries picking on you because they think you're just tiny and easy pickings, he literally steps to them... breaks thier nose with barely any effort. Word gets around, and no one tries that shit again, that's for sure.