#first attempt of wriitng smt like that... tbh after writing out a suna drabble im a bit more comfy?? idk

[fortheharbingers]

bewitched

♤ characters: scaramouche/gn!reader

♤ notes: suggestive content (mentions of finger sucking and grinding, implied sex) (minors dni) ; unimportant for this drabble but reader is a kitsune (it'll come into play once i add a second part)

hand reaching out to the pile of red, scaramouche grabs another fresh strarberry and holds before his face to inspect it.

peculiar little fruits, not too sweet or dull, their size just right, juicy, shining under the shimmering lights of the sun and the action of chewing them doesn't create a bother in itself. and on the plus side, they paint your lips just right, a little trail of pink flowing from the side of your mouth– and leaning in to him, closer than before, eyes lidded and mouth slightly open, it is obvious you're expecting, waiting, he almost licks his lips at the sight.

and throws the berry into his mouth with a single motion, ignoring the needy and annoyed look youre giving him.

it's scandalous, come to think of it, the balladeer, the (former) sixth harbinger of the fatui, in a small spring hidden from plain view and curious eyes by thick trees and a thicker fog, with you all over him, no less.

as if sensing the way he has described your position, your annoyed look from before turns into glares. quite a lot in number and sharp, too.

okay, so maybe you're not all over him but in his lap, maybe he is a little over you as well, so what of it? no big deal, not at all.

not when he should be worried with more pressing matters but with the way the sun lazily falls down, the taste of strawberries (and you) in his mouth, he cannot help but indulge for once.

a hex, or a curse, there is no other explanation for this– you must've done something to make way for this. yet he cannot see it himself to care. (and it feels nice, for once, to not think much, and just enjoy himself, reel in the pleasure, a world consisting of only you, and him; no annoying archons nagging at his brain, no intruders in his world, no brainless lackeys or incompetent people just dying to pester him.)

his hand reaches for another strawberry and brings it to your lips. letting his hand linger for a second too long, he watches as you nibble on his fingers, eyes never leaving his.

it feels more than nice, to have his fingers in your mouth, and yours in his, not that he would admit it. be it gently biting or getting harsher and rougher with one another. how you'll watch each other sucking on the fingers and getting a taste of themselves, or the other's, with a drunken expression painted on your faces. a premiere for the fucked out expression your faces will be morphing into in a matter of hours, or minutes. he likes it better when the fingers glisten with bodily fluids, instead of just saliva, but he'll have to make do for the time being with this.

leaning slightly back, you move your pelvis right against his crotch again, and that's when the smallest of suspicions he would have had, were this his first encounter with you, disappears into the thin air.

you move your waist once again, grinding against him just right, perhaps that was exactly what his body was waiting for for a while now, with the way he begins to harden so quickly.

he knows how it'll progress from now on, again, with your hands on his chest, maybe one hand gripping (yanking would be a better way to describe it perhaps) his hair, grinding against him in harmonic movements until you begin to reach your high, head tossed back or to a certain spot on the crook of his neck, all just for your own pleasure and nothing else's.

well, it's just a bonus in all of this that he gets to be the subject of your desires, and gets off in the process. few more days away from the distasteful thing called reality won't hurt anyone.