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fayes-fics · 9 months

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Awakening

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: You experience an awakening a few days into your arranged marriage with the Viscount.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, female masturbation, slightly dom/sub (use of little one/my lord), innocence, corruption kink, vaginal fingering, oral sex (m to f).

Word Count: 3.4k

Authors Note: Unbetaed. Request fill for Anon, HERE, about Anthony being arranged married to an innocent reader. Sorry it's taken me so long to write this, Nonny, but I hope you still enjoy it, even though I changed the parameters of the request slightly. Enjoy <3

Viscount Anthony Bridgerton is most perplexing.

He is all at once both the best and the worst person you know. A providing husband, but an absent one. A polite, undisputable gentleman, but one who has barely said more than a handful of words to you, his supposed wife. An arrangement was brokered with your father, and now, merely weeks later, you are walking the halls of Aubrey Hall as the new Viscountess Bridgerton but barely feel as if you know your husband.

The night before your wedding, you had received a very vague talk from your mother about how you should expect your new husband to enter your bedchamber and perform his “spousal rights” and that, as his wife, you must allow whatever he decides to do. You still have no earthly idea what that might mean; your room has never once yet seen his presence—on that night or, indeed, any of the four nights since. Part of you worries you have somehow failed to be the wife he needs; part of you is relieved he has not done anything to you that you must endure in some way.

There is one thing you are certain of, though. While Anthony may be distant, almost an absence from your life, always busy with some business or other, there is no doubt you find his countenance pleasing. He is so very dashing and handsome. Earlier today, he swept in from a hunt wearing very tight tan breeches, and the sight caused a funny, warm tingling low in your gut. Between your legs, really. He nodded politely as he swept past you in the hallway, continuing his discussion with his brother as he did so. You twist to watch his retreating figure, wishing you could have the opportunity to speak with him, but the view of his shapely bottom in those tight trousers is at least partial compensation.

So as you lay under the covers on your fifth night alone, your ladies' maids having brushed your hair and taken their leave, you sigh deeply and snuggle into the crispy white sheets. Your thoughts turn to your husband again and that outfit he was wearing. The way those trousers clung to him, the movement of muscle as he strode purposefully. And that sensation rears again—the pulsing between your legs. It seems like your body needs something, but you do not know what. Flushed for some reason, you push away the covers. Before you know it, curiosity has the better of you. While you replay the image of him walking in your mind, your legs fall apart, your hand reflexively falling between them to provide a remedy—almost like an itch you need to scratch.

Your fingers slide through folds of flesh there, and strangely, there is unfamiliar sticky dampness. When you pass your fingers over a particular spot where your two lips meet, you get a pleasurable spike that makes your mouth slack.

Oh.

Almost without meaning to, you keep touching that spot, a call and response that is impossible to resist. The more you rub right there, your body swelling slightly under your movements, the better you feel. A languid buzz in your brain that feels both stimulating and relaxing. When your husband's image pops into your head again, everything suddenly gets sharper and more urgent. And so you do. You think of him. His handsome face, the way his forearms flex when you sit across from him at dinner, and he eats with his sleeves rolled up and again those legs and bottom in those tight trousers. Tumbling images that speed up in your mind as your fingers do the same, powerless to resist.

You are soon gasping and writhing, yet you do not stop; it feels too good. Something almost violent happens in your body, your lungs restricting, your brain buzzing, and suddenly, with a crest of physical delight, you are experiencing something completely novel. There is a squeezing, rippling inside, and you cry out as a remarkable ecstasy takes your body. When eventually the feeling subsides, you collapse back down, panting and bewildered; your whole body flushed, your fingers, still resting between your legs, wettened with a slick substance that could only have come from within you.

Whatever just happened, it's nothing you have been told about before. Not fully understanding, all you know is you want to experience it again. It's addictive, powerful, and so very relaxing once over. You instantly fall into a deep, sated slumber and wake up the most refreshed you have felt in many months.

And so it becomes a habit.

Whenever you feel the need and have a private moment, you retire to your room and touch your body until you feel that pinnacle—often thinking upon the Viscount as you do so. His name even falls from your lips, breathy, almost a tasty morsel, as you find your peak. It is no longer something you only do when you retire to bed for the night. You find yourself doing so any time of day, whenever the mood strikes you, an addictive, fun, illicit thrill. You wonder idly if such a thing is taboo, but you struggle to believe something that feels so good could ever be unacceptable behaviour as long as you are in private, alone.

One week after your wedding, on an uneventful afternoon, you put down your needlework and huff a sigh, your eyes drawn by movement outside. There, riding towards the house at speed across the lawn is Anthony. It's a sunny summer day; he wears only a shirt billowing in the breeze with sleeves pushed up around his elbows. And again, those tan breeches flexing around his legs as the horse gallops, him moving with the beast in a rhythmic motion. Time seems to stand still as you are inexorably drawn to the window to watch the sight coming closer and closer. The whole time your breath becomes more rapid, that telltale throbbing between your legs flares. You decide there is only one course of action.

When he veers off to the left towards the stables to the side of the house, you turn heel and run up the stairs. Keen to have that incredible high. This new, enthralling image will be the star of your thoughts this time. You pass his valet on the stairs and politely nod before scurrying and closing your bedroom door behind you.

You drop your underwear onto the floor, hitching up your dress and chemise around your hips as you throw yourself onto your bed, not even bothering to pull back the bedspread, so very keen to touch yourself.

It doesn't take much, that familiar slick already there, painting your fingers as you slide them against your nub, one hand reaching behind to grasp the headboard as you writhe on your fingers, all thoughts of Anthony and that repetitive bouncing motion of him upon his steed. So wrapped up in pleasure, his name on your lips, you do not hear the knob turning and the door opening.

“My valet told me you were here….” his loud baritone voice rings out around the room but grinds to a halt mid-sentence.

You squeal in surprise; the star of your fantasies standing right before you, skin sunkissed and his hair tousled from his ride, a look of utter shock painting his face.

Instinctively, you clamp your knees together and attempt to push down your dress, but it’s too little, too late. He has seen exactly what you were doing, and now he looks distressed, hIs breathing uneven.

“Did you…. Did you say my name?” The tone is not one you have heard from him before, rough but straining.

You sit up slightly and avert your gaze downwards, abashed he has interrupted your private moment.

“Yes,” you confess quietly.

He takes a hesitant step forward towards the bed and swallows heavily.

“You were touching yourself? And... and saying my name?” he looks almost winded.

“Yes,” again, it's soft, and you chew your lower lip, thinking perhaps you are about to be chastised. He certainly looks very… agitated.

“Do you know what you are doing to yourself?” he blurts out, a vein in his forehead prominent as he locks his jaw.

“Not really,” you admit, “only that when I think of you, I get an ache between my legs, and it feels wonderful when I touch it.”

He makes a strangled noise and closes his eyes, his head tipping back slightly.

“I… I did not expect to consummate yet,” he mutters heavily, “I thought I had more time.” He seems to be talking to himself as much as you.

“What does that mean? Consummate?” you inquire, your mother's words coming to the forefront. Perhaps this is what she was referring to.

“As your husband, I have perhaps been neglectful of my spousal duties,” he says slowly, his head tipping back down to look at you, his eyes intense.

“Duties?” you frown.

“What you were doing to yourself…” he begins, moving closer now so he stands by the bed, “it is because you desire me. I had not considered that may be the case.” He twists his mouth into a thoughtful pout, but you do not miss how he seems to stare at your breasts as they rise and fall inside your stays. “But now that I know it is true… it… changes things.”

“How?” you look up at him, wanting to understand.

A smirk tugs at the left corner of his mouth. “It means there are things I can teach you, things you should know that can happen between a man and a woman. Things you will find pleasurable, just like when you touch yourself. It is my responsibility, as your husband, to show you such things now.” His hand reaches out, and you inhale sharply as it lands upon your raised knee.

“You make it sound more like an obligation than something you want to do,” you respond, voice wavering at the distraction his hand is causing, the viscous throbbing between your legs even heavier now.

“Oh, nothing could be further from the truth; I want to, now that I know you desire it too.” His voice is a soft thrum that makes your nipples peak and a shiver run down your spine.

“Why have you not come to me before, husband?” it sounds breathy even to your ears.

“I thought you disliked me. That this was an arrangement you were enduring. That I should be polite and respectful. Keep my distance, at the least, until you adjust to your new life as Viscountess. Until an heir is needed. But now I know that is not the case…”

His voice is a pleasant low rumble as his hand starts to move, slightly calloused fingertips skirting the soft skin of your inner thigh, your dress and chemise bunching around his toned forearm as he does so.

“What are you…?” your breath quickening now.

“Shhhh, Viscountess, let me help you,” he hushes, and you stare at him with wide eyes as his warm fingers reach your folds. He hisses at the heat and wetness he finds there. “Oh, you really do like me,” he purrs, and something in you makes you lean slowly back onto the padded plush headboard, unable to look away from his face.

“Yes…” you whimper as his thumb, much broader than yours, makes a sideways swipe over your swollen nub.

“How often?” he murmurs, shifting to take a seat on the bed next to you, his thumb never wavering in its slow, intoxicating rhythm,

“How often wh-what?” You stutter, rapidly losing the ability to form words as your body riots, grasping the bedspread on either side of you, scarcely believing how amazing it feels when someone else touches you, especially him.

“How often do you touch yourself and think of me?” his voice gravelly.

“Everyday… so-sometimes m-more than once,” you pant out, your lips tingling, holding his fiery gaze.

“Oh, you naughty little thing,” he growls, and it sets your face aflame. “Touching yourself multiple times a day and thinking of me. Do you reach a peak every time?”

“Y-yes, my lord….”

His eyes flash; he leans in closer so you can smell spiced cologne and traces of his natural body scent, heightened from his riding exertions.

“Please call me that when I'm touching you,” he asks, but it almost sounds like an order, one you are happy to obey.

“Yes, my lord,” you respond instantly.

“Good little one,” he compliments, and the praise makes something bloom inside you, an urgent want to please him.

He changes his thumb’s motion to a circular pattern and presses more insistently. You gasp loud, glancing down at the slight of his toned arm flexing as he moves, his fingers obscured by your dress rucked up around his wrist.

“Tell me, have you put your fingers inside yourself?” his tone still velvety.

“No? What do you mean? I just,” you pause to whimper, “do as you are right now.”

His face turns into a handsome smirk you can't look away from.

“Would you like to find out how it feels to have someone inside your body, little one?” The question is molten, and you swear your entire skin feels too heated and tight.

You just nod, snagging your lower lip with your tooth, and then your eyes bulge as a finger slips lower and presses into a fleshy barrier that resists his touch.

“I can feel you are still intact, a chaste maiden indeed,” he rumbles, and part of you wonders what that means, but you do not ask. “Luckily, there is just enough of an opening for me to do this…”

You moan as a single finger pushes a fraction into your body, something completely novel and profound. You stare at him open-mouthed

“Oh, my dear little thing, I have barely even put the tip of my finger inside and look at you. Wait until it's my cock,” he warns darkly.

“Your what?”

He grabs your hand off the bedding and guides it to the junction of his thighs. Something is hot and hard under there, and you cannot hide your shock even as your hand curls around it and squeezes instinctually.

He growls. “That’s it, feel it. My cock is going to go inside you, right here….” he lectures, and his finger that was teasing pushes deeper into your pussy, aided by the pool of wetness leaking from within.

Again you moan at the invasion, and he looks so proud, pumping the digit slowly as his thumb restarts its movements on your clit.

“Oh my god,” you exclaim in a harsh whisper, the feeling so utterly mindblowing.

“No, your lord,” he corrects, preening from what he can do to your body.

“My l-lord….” you amend stutteringly.

He nods his approval and leans over you, his breath warm on your face as he observes your expressions, gauging your response to each move he makes. It's so overwhelming that he is touching you inside and outside your body.

You are rapidly losing the ability to do anything besides make noises and chase sensation; your knees falling further apart, your hand still on his cock, pressing unconsciously with the same rhythm his fingers play your body. He glances down at his lap, his other hand moving from its grip on your wrist to cover yours, his hips tilting a fraction, pressing more insistently into your palm.

“Would you like to come right now?” his breath almost as ragged as yours.

“W-what is that?” you stumble.

He huffs a bemused sound. “When you reach your peak, little one. It is called coming.”

“Yes, please, my lord,” you answer the instant you understand, spiralling fast now, your lungs heaving, your slit hot and slippery, where he teases you.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs, and you obey instantly.

He gently removes your hand from his cock, and his fingers slip out of your body. You sense movement on the bed, and he manhandles your feet outwards and upwards towards your hips. Cotton brushing the back of your thighs, and a wave of warm air across your inner thighs, so open and exposed now. A few seconds later, you feel something entirely new— a wet, hot, thick mass sliding through your folds unlike anything else. Your eyes fly open, and you startle to see that Anthony has crawled between your legs and his head is now buried at the apex of your thighs. Then you cry out as he does the same thing again, realising he is using his tongue.

“What the….?” you can't even complete the sentence.

“It is not just my fingers I can use, little one,” he tutors, his tone dusky, his breath hot on the patch of hair between your legs as he pulls up slightly to talk, his eyes burning into yours.

You watch, mesmerised, as he flattens his tongue wide and lowers his face to lick a long strip through your entire slit, morphing into a spear as he maps your clit, swirling around all sides. It's so intense your channel flutters, wishing his fingers were still inside you.

“Yes, that is it, you like that, do you not? Come on,” he coaxes as he takes a deep breath, inhaling your body scent. The way he is handling you, so absorbed in you, a euphoric feeling burns behind your ribs at the idea he wants your pleasure.

He envelopes your clitoral hood and sucks hard. His eyes flashing with pride as he has to grab your hips and hold you down, your back arching off the bed, crying out without caring if anyone can hear. The way he growls as you do so tells you exactly how much he wants to hear it, his pride that he can do this to you.

Something primal washes over you as he bites gently on your swollen clit, holding it between his teeth as you feel two fingers at your entrance pushing in, making you cry as you stretch around him, your body accommodating them even as you feel so filled.

“Anthony… Anthony, my lord,” you chant repeatedly as he holds you down with one strong arm and rocks his fingers shallowly into your body, his tongue swirling. It’s a sight that you can’t look away from. His hips flex into the bed almost involuntarily, as if his cock needs friction, too.

You feel that tide rising somehow more potent when orchestrated by him, a white-hot burning where he plays you and a tension in all your muscles.

“Give it to me,” he snarls, muffled, feeling the ripples around your clit and pussy against his face and fingers.

He redoubles his efforts, almost mercilessly lashing you with his tongue, varying pressure and speed. Entirely without meaning to, your hands fly into his hair, loving the sensation of thick curls sinking between your fingers as you grasp his strands, making him cry out right into your body. And it’s precisely what you need.

Every fibre of your being held taut and shaking now snaps, the pressure inside you like a dam breaking, so much more intense than you have ever experienced from just your fingers. Something almost inexplicable, ephemeral, your body experiencing a hundred different things firing at once. Your world contracting and exploding. You can feel your own heartbeat in your extremities, a rush of blood in your ears, eyes screwed shut as you shudder under him, and yet he moves with you as your hips roll in waves, his mouth never leaving your body. You know you are leaking onto his face, your inside clenching powerfully around his fingers. Dimly, you are aware the noises you make are loud, but you find yourself unable to prevent it and don't even want to.

As you recover, he crawls over your prone body as you lay there panting, fundamentally changed in the sharing of this experience with him, of him to be the one to make your body reach its peak. A true awakening of your senses.

It’s then he kisses you for the first time since a cursory brush of lips at the altar on your wedding day. His face musky with your juices, his lips hot, soft and damp as they press to yours. This is so different to that kiss. It's lingering and hot, his lips plush on yours.

His handsome face breaks into a dazzling smile as he looms over you, the back of his hand gently brushing down your cheekbone as you stare up at him dazed, the taste of yourself seeping through your lips. “Rest for now, my dear wife.” His tone is softer now, the use of wife instead of little one making your breath catch. “I shall return tonight, and you shall become a woman,” his voice laden with untold promise.

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moonstruckme · 19 days

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HII I LOVE YOUR WORK SM!! I literally can't stop reading them 😭 I love you so much for making all of them !!

May I ask if we could get more of shy Remus?? As soon as I read the first one I immediately fell in love !

Thank you so much!! 🫶🏽

Hi lovely, thank you! Sorry this took me so long, I've wanted to write it ever since it came into my inbox but it took me forever to come up with an idea </3

cw: very vague implication of smut

shy!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Remus looks surprised when he opens the door, and immediately after that embarrassed. For what, you never know.

“Hi,” he says, lips curving into a smile as if of their own volition. “Um, I haven’t missed anything, have I?”

You laugh. “No, you’re fine. I was just nearby and thought I might return your jumper.”

It’s a half-truth. You’re ambushing him and you know it, but Remus’ reticent disposition means you know next to nothing about his life and after weeks of dating you’re really itching for a peek behind the curtain. You’ve brought chocolate muffins to make up for it.

“Oh, that’s thoughtful of you.” Remus’ voice is soft as always, that adorable smile still playing on his lips until you both hear footsteps bounding down the stairs inside. He glances behind him, moving a bit more in front of the door. “While you’re here, maybe we could go have coffee or—”

“Who’s that?”

The voice seems like a sound of much dread for Remus, if his expression is anything to go off of. He ignores it, speaking only to you.

“Or there’s a park just down the way—”

“Remus.” It’s a different voice this time, yet the effect upon Remus’ countenance is the same. “Who do you have there?”

“Hi!” you say over his head, mutinous.

“A girl?” Remus’ entire body seems to sag in resignation. “Remus Lupin, stop hiding her from us immediately.”

“Sod off.” He says over his shoulder, as brash as you’ve ever heard him. It’s a bit thrilling.

“I will not. Reveal your secrets, you dirty dog.”

You actually do feel quite bad for Remus, a blush spreading all the way up to the tips of his ears, but he lets go of the doorframe, letting himself be wrestled out of the way.

“Hello.” A dark-haired boy weasels his way into Remus’ place, giving you a salacious up-down. You raise your eyebrows at him, delighted. So this is who Remus associates with when he’s not with you. “My, you’re a pretty thing. And you’re here to see Remus?”

“I am,” you confirm. “I’m here to bring back his jumper.”

“Which would lead one to believe, “a second boy appears behind the first, both of them keeping Remus from reclaiming his spot at the door, “that you’ve seen him before.”

You laugh. “I have. We’ve been dating a few weeks now.”

“Remus!” The second bellows, eyes blowing comically wide behind his glasses. “Weeks? Weeks, and you haven’t said a word. How could you?”

“I don’t suppose you have a bit of time on your hands,” the first boy says smoothly.

“I’ve…” You check the time. “I do, actually.”

He grins, wolflike. You’re not sure who the prey is. You worry it’s your date.

“Yes!” The one with the glasses is effervescent, brimming with eagerness. It’s contagious, you find; you’re smiling too. “You have to come in, please.”

You’re dying to, but you peer past them, locking eyes with Remus. He looks to be wishing for a swift and painless death, but he gives you a soft smile anyways. Nods.

“Sure,” you say, “I could join you for a bit.”

Some of the boisterous energy settles as they usher you inside, the need for urgency vanquished now that they’ve got you in their clutches. Begrudgingly, Remus introduces you, and the other two hassle him about taking off your coat and showing you where to put your shoes before he gets a chance to do either. Soon you’re settled comfortably in the armchair they tell you is Remus’ favorite.

“Can I make you a cuppa?” Remus asks, and James and Sirius both oooh as he rolls his eyes. You nod at him, eyeing the other two amusedly.

“He must really like you,” James says, “if he’s offering to make you tea.”

“Hence why you’re not getting any,” Remus says over his shoulder as he stalks for the kitchen.

“Prick,” Sirius calls after him. “We didn’t want any anyways.” But he crosses his arms, sulking back against the couch cushions. James, on the other hand, leans towards you.

“So,” he says severely, “what are your intentions with our Remus?”

A quiet sound of distress comes from the kitchen, but you all ignore it. “Your Remus?” you ask.

James nods self-assuredly. “We’ve known him since primary school. If you two get married, I’ll be the one giving him away.”

You raise your eyebrows. Remus’ head pops out of the kitchen, glaring daggers in a way you didn’t know he knew how. “You will not.”

“What?” James looks gutted.

“That’s not the point.” Sirius waves both of his friends off, though James looks like he would very much like to continue on the topic. “Tell us about you two, gorgeous. Where did you meet, how long have you been dating, has Remus told you where he hides his chocolates?”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Remus says, coming back with your tea. He passes it to you carefully, handle out, and both you and James hiss at him for holding the hot part.

“We haven’t even gotten her to answer anything yet,” Sirius complains.

“It’s not her fault you haven’t given her the chance.” Remus perches on the armrest of the chair. It's probably so he can avoid sitting next to his nosy friends, but pride swells in your chest anyway at being chosen. You take his hand, and he squeezes your fingers in response.

Sirius coos. “Only a few weeks of dating and he’s already holding her hand. I’m so proud.”

You grin up at Remus, knowing what you could say to really shock his friends but not wanting to embarrass him further. He’s already flustered enough that his scars stand out in stark contrast against his flushed skin, but his look softens as he meets your eyes. Something about him eases, a small smile curving his lips.

You decide it’s permission enough.

“You’ve been a bit bolder than that, haven’t you, handsome?”

James and Sirius erupt in hoots and hollers. Remus looks like he might well fall off the edge of the chair for how stiff he’s gotten.

“Sorry,” you whisper, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. It’s burning. “I’m not trying to torment you. We can go be alone in your room, if you like.”

“No-o.” James waggles a finger at you. “Now that we know what you’re up to, you won’t be getting him alone in our house. You’re set on corrupting him!”

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helen-with-an-a · 22 days

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First Time Crush

Hi. This is from a request that I received a little bit ago - sorry it took a while to get to. I know you asked for a teen!R but I don't feel too comfortable writing for 15/16 yr old teen (especially if it has a romantic component to the story), so just imagine R is 18/19 (adult but still teenager iykwim). I also have tried to be as vague as possible with the description of R's crush so you can tailor it/imagine whoever you want. If your name is Ellie I apologise but I wanted OC to be English and it is literally one of the most common names here. Anyways I hope you like it

Barcelona Femeni x Reader; OC x Reader

Description: R has her first crush

Word Count: 2.1k

Part 1 | Part 2

It was something that had never really bothered you before. No guys or girls had ever caught your eye in that way. But there she was, with high cheekbones and pouty lips, laughing with a few other girls. She looked about your age, and even more importantly, she wore your England jersey. You hadn't been staring at her – that would be weird – but if your gaze just happened to linger on that part of the stands, you couldn't help it, right?

"Oi, earth to Y/N! Get on with it," Lucy nudged you forward, pulling your attention away from the crowd. "What are you looking at, anyway?" she asked, slinging an arm around your shoulders. You cleared your throat and shook your head, trying to banish the pretty girl from your mind. "Nothing, nothing. Just … nothing," you tried to hide your blushing cheeks. Lucy thought she might have an idea about what – or who – had captured your interest so intently, but she let it be. You did have a game to play, after all.

It happened again the next home game you had. She was sitting with your England jersey on, and her hair was twisted into an effortless, messy pile on her head. She caught you staring – not staring per se, just … looking for a bit too long – and she smiled, a shy smirk that stretched into a wide grin, and your eyes widened. Yet, you were unable to look away. You had just won a tough match; it was a 3 – 0 win, with your name on the score sheet, but still – they had put up a fight for you. "Let's go and say hi, shall we?" Pina said, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards where the girl was waiting. "No, Clau, no." You tried to resist, eventually, you managed to break free of her grasp and turned right into Bruna's open arms. "Aw, thanks for the hug, chica. But let's go and see who you've been staring at, yeh," she laughed as you tried to wiggle against her, but it was useless – her arms tightened and guided you towards the stands.

"Hola," Pina said to the group of girls waiting for you. "Soy Claudia," smiled politely at them. "y yo soy Bruna," there was an awkward pause, clearly meant for you to introduce yourself to them. You couldn't move, let alone introduce yourself to this beautiful stranger. "Esta es Y/N." Claudia took pity on you and spoke slowly like you would when encouraging a small child to speak. "Um, hold on, En-encantada de con-conocerte?" One of the girls tried to reply in Spanish. "Do you want us to speak in English?" Pina asked. "Please," she replied gratefully. It was subtle, but they eventually moved a little further away, leaving you standing helplessly on the pitch with the Beautiful Girl in front of you. "Hi, I'm Ellie," She reached her hand out for you to take. You blinked, looking down at her outstretched hand before back to those warm, soft eyes. "H-hi," you managed to squeak out. Clearly, you weren't going to shake her hand, so she awkwardly let it fall. "Great game out there. You played really well," she smiled at you. Your heart spluttered, and your breath hitched. You were going to die because a pretty girl smiled at you. You looked down at your boots, a very obvious blush blooming across your cheeks. The very awkward, one-sided conversation lasted only a few more painful minutes before your coaches called you inside. "It was really nice meeting you, Y/N. Hopefully, I'll see you at the next home game, yeh?" Ellie said before moving off to her friends.

"Oof, that was painful to watch, amiga," Bruna laughed, shoving you lightly and breaking you out of your trance. "Sí, I've never seen anything so … awful," Pina added, dragging you towards the tunnel. Just as you slipped out of sight, you looked back, hoping to catch a final glimpse of Ellie. To your surprise, she was already staring at you. She lifted her hand and waved gently as she caught your eyes before turning back to walk up the steps. "I don't even know what happened. It was like I couldn't breathe, or move, or … do anything!" You looked between the 2 of them. "You, mi amiga, have a crush," Claudia explained at precisely the wrong time. Alexia, Marta, Lucy, Ingrid, Mapi and Patri had just emerged from the physio rooms.

"Estás enamorada?" Mapi asked, slightly too gleefully. Ingrid – recognising the signs of Mapi's excitement – tapped her not-too-gently on the head. "Aye," Mapi exclaimed as she ducked out of the way of any more 'loving taps'. "Pequeña, estás enamorada?" she asked again, an unrecognisable emotion in her voice. "I … I don't know." You were genuinely perplexed. You had never felt like this before "What do you mean, 'you don't know'?" Patri asked exasperatedly. "I don't know," you said again with slightly more anger in your voice. "Well, do you like her or not?" Patri put her hands on her hips and stood in front of you as you sat in your cubby. "I – I don't know. I don't know what I feel." Patri huffed, her arms flinging out in exacerbation. You didn't know what you had done wrong. "Well, cariño, what do you feel when you see her? I'm assuming it's a her." Ingrid asked gently, coming to sit beside you on the bench. "I … I don't know that either," you whispered, ashamed that you didn't understand your own emotions. You were an adult—why couldn't you recognise simple feelings? "That's ok," Alexia said kindly, coming to sit on your other side. "When I first started seeing Olga, I couldn't stop blushing and smiling whenever I thought about her," she paused, allowing you to think about Ellie – you didn't smile, but you definitely felt your cheeks heat up. "And I could hardly function around Ingrid," Mapi said, coming to stand next to Ingrid and caressing her hand across her shoulder. “It's like I didn't know how to be human when she was around me." Ingrid looked up at her, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Not me," Lucy chimed in. "I was cool as a cucumber," that eased the emotion in the room slightly, making everyone laugh. "No, you weren't," Keira and Ona said simultaneously, giving each other a knowing look. "It's ok to not know how you feel," Frido smiled at you from across the room. "About someone or anything else. Not knowing is also an emotion." She winked at you. You nodded sombrely.

Ellie had been dancing through your mind for the past 2 weeks. It was finally another home game, and you were quietly hopeful that you might be able to see her. You couldn't stop thinking about her smile, her warm eyes, her caramel voice. As soon as you stepped onto the pitch, your eyes scanned the crowd, trying to catch sight of the familiar England jersey. Your heart sank a little when you couldn't find her. "Trying to find chica amante, amiga?" Jana asked, smirking at your embarrassed blush—but you didn't stop looking. You really hoped Ellie was here; you wanted to get your name on the score sheet again to impress her. "Cállate," You brushed her off, jogging away to join the older girls for warm-ups.

You still hadn't found Ellie before kick-off, and it was starting to dampen your mood a little. You were no longer quietly radiating excitement, and everyone could tell. "Está bien, penqueña, just because you can't find her doesn't mean she's not here." Irene rubbed your arms as you waited in the tunnel. "Does – does everyone on the team know?" You asked a little dejectedly. "Sí, cariño, todos en el equipo lo saben. Even Jona and the coaching staff." That really didn't help your mood. All of your closest friends knew about your crush; even your boss knew. You wished the ground would swallow you whole.

To say you played poorly would be mean. But you didn't play to your usual standard. You made silly mistakes you never usually made, giving the ball away when your usual passes were precise and accurate. You were unsurprised when your number flashed on the screen, indicating you were being subbed off. You sat down with a huff, Esmee's hand coming to hold yours tightly in hopes of comforting you. Today was most definitely not your day.

When the final whistle went, you tried to bolt straight to the changing rooms, but an immovable Alexia stood in your way. "Ale, por favor. I just want to go have a shower and go to bed. Please." You really were not in the mood to interact with anyone, let alone fans or be anywhere near a camera. "No, penqueña. Vamos a dar una vuelta al estadio, sí?" Her tone left no room for argument. You begrudgingly agreed and let her drag you around, fake smiling and signing things for fans, but it was obvious you didn't really want to be there.

"Vamos, pequeña. Hay alguien que creo que quizás quieras ver." Alexia said as she came to a stop near Ellie's usually stand. "Ale, please. I don't want to-" You started to turn around. "That's a shame" That sweet, silky, soft voice you had memorised cut through your pleas. You spun back around, quickly spotting Ellie, not wearing your England jersey. You felt a slight pang of hurt. That was stupid. It's just a shirt. She doesn't have to wear it. "Do you like my shirt?" Ellie asked, a playful smile teasing her lips. The Barca home jersey was slightly oversized and styled immaculately, tucked into her bra to crop it slightly, exposing a sliver of skin on her torso. You nodded profusely, but no answer was leaving your lips. "De quién es el número que obtuviste?" Alexia stepped in, obviously taking pity on you. "Um … número? Oh, um, number 3." You wore number 3. You blinked and blushed intensely. Alexia nudged you slightly. She sighed and left you alone with Ellie. "You played well," She started. You scoffed. "No, I didn't," You fiddled with your fingers, avoiding her gaze. "Yes, you did. You got an assist. I saw it." She smirked, twisting a loose piece of hair around her fingers and tilting her head. "I let the ball go so many times. I couldn't concentrate." You whispered, wishing the conversation was about anything else. "But you got it back every time, right? It was very impressive," she chuckled quietly at your awkwardness. "Gra-graci, uh, thanks," you stumbled over your words. "You don't do this very often, do you?' Ellie took sympathy on you. You clearly were out of your depth. "Do what?" You finally made eye contact with her. Your breath hitched, and you couldn't decide whether you never wanted to stop looking at them or turn away. "Flirt," she said as if it were obvious. “I've been flirting with you for weeks now," she explained. She was flirting with you? You blinked owlishly at her. "Here," she took the pen out of your hand, reaching for your arm and scrawling on it. It tickled a little, but you couldn't deny you liked having her this close to you … and holding your hand. You studied her as she wrote; her tongue stuck out slightly, and her eyes narrowed as she focused. "That is my number. You better use it. Otherwise, I will be very sad." She grinned cheekily at you. You nodded, cheeks crimson and unable to move. "Good," she said softly. "Now, you better go," she gently squeezed your chin. "Alexia and Ingrid look like they're waiting for you," she nodded behind you. You wanted to turn but couldn't. Not when she was so close to you. She wiggled her eyebrows, pointed at her number on your arm and shouted, "Use it," as she sauntered away.

"El bebe tiene novia," Alexia sang out as you joined them, her hands coming to ruffle your hair and pinch your bright red cheeks. "Ingrid," you whined, burying your face against her arm. "Make her stop." She laughed brightly. "Kjæreste, this is nothing compared to what is waiting for you with the others," Ingrid laughed as you pushed yourself further into her chest, dreading what awaited you in the changing rooms. But the more you thought about it, the less bothered you were.

Because you got the beautiful stranger's number.

I hope you liked it <3<3<3

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stsgooo · 4 months

Text

Clumsiness.

✩࿐ summary: maomao notices that the eunuch's behavior is odd recently. she's set on discovering the root of the cause.

warning(s): idiots in love, slight angst, mentions of bullying, fluffy, maomao pov. wc; 3.1k

pairing(s): jinshi/fem!reader

a/n: binge watched all of tad last night and wanted to write smth for jinshi just because i have my weaknesses. i don't know exactly what this is except random rambles. anywayyy, i haven't read the manga yet so please no spoilers :3

m.list ao3

THERE'S VARIOUS THINGS THAT MAOMAO SIMPLY DOESN'T CARE FOR. The uncomfortable mornings where it's too chilly, the work she catches after one of the servants loves her ideas, and idle chatter that comes with silence. However, the thing she doesn't care for the most is when Eunuch Jinshi decides to make his random and surprise appearances.

It usually brought trouble and a headache for her. His smiles and violet eyes staring into her very soul. She never looked forward to them as it always accompanied some random job in another part of the palace she simple didn't like. Or he would ask of her some impossible task that not even the gods could grant him. Maomao could do without Jinshi's behavior.

However, she could easily recognize when he wasn't acting himself. On this day particularly, she was especially aware of Jinshi's lack of excitement.

She was called and pulled aside from her duty's in the Jade Pavilion to report to Jinshi's quarters. She was quick and made little pause in her stride over. A simple routine that they both silently agreed to. He would call and she would make her way over as quickly as possible.

It was when she arrived, she realized things were not to routine.

Jinshi was laying face flat against his desk, unmoving except for his breathing. Usually, he'd be sat up, smirk on his lips, and his legs crossed as he regarded her smugly. But now, it was like she wasn't even in the room as he made small groaning sounds of disdain, his fingers tangled into his tresses as he gripped his scalp.

He was definitely not acting like himself from the bat.

"Xiaomao, thank you for coming on such short notice." Gaoshun greeted her with a small bow, offering her a sympathetic glance as he turned his attention to Jinshi. "Jinshi-sama had a matter he'd like you to take care of."

Maomao raised her eyebrows, eyes cutting back to Jinshi who remained unmoved. Is he going to present the matter himself? She thought, watching as Gaoshun inched closer, nudging the younger man's shoulder with his elbow. He seems quite the mess.

"Apothecary," Jinshi's voice was muffled as he spoke, his head still tucked into his arms. Maomao looked to Gaoshun who just sighed heavily, ducking his head. "A servant from the Garnet Pavilion has fallen ill, I'd like for you to help her feel better."

"What's her symptoms?" Maomao asked, eyes watching the pathetic man flatly.

He tensed, his head moving to peek at her from between his arms. "I fear this is more a matter of the mind."

She frowned. "I can't cure the mind, Jinshi-sama."

He finally pushed himself to sit up, an indignant pout on his lips. "I thought you could do anything." He retorted smartly.

"I never said that."

Honestly, this man asked too much of her too quickly. It was enough that he asked her to solve murders of high ranking military officials, but it felt a little much to ask her to cure some girl's mental ailments. A random girl who had probably contributed to the near death of Lady Lihua at that. Maomao already felt a vague frustration fill her at the thought. Maybe it was one of the girls she had the pleasure intimidating.

She was going to decline when she spotted the look in his eyes. Not the flirtatious or rather perverted glint it usually had, but a desperate one.

"Can you at least try?" He almost sounded defeated, his shoulders hunched and eye bags heavy.

Maomao still felt the overwhelming urge to give him a hard time. "Try what, exactly?"

He released a frustrated grumble, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. "Maybe lend an ear, or offer some type of comfort? Anything that will possibly ease her nerves." He waved a flippant hand around, eyebrows knitted together. "It's making me wo... it's making Lady Lihua unsettled."

Maomao couldn't help the interest that came with his unspoken words. He was worried? It wasn't uncommon, nor did it seem that he would hide his concern for others. But the mere fact that he had corrected himself and tried to cover it up, piqued her curiosity and interest.

Either way, she had no choice.

Maomao tucked her hands into her sleeves, bowing. "I can make an attempt. Now, if you'll excuse me." She turned away, barely missing Jinshi's hopeful and beaming expression. She was about to exit when she happened to glance towards the sitting area, where a tea set sat, broken and contents seeping into the floor. Her eyebrows raised. "You'll carpet is going to stain."

She paid no mind to the loud groan and thud of Jinshi's head as she exited.

It took Maomao a while to find the girl that had Jinshi worried and she had learned quite a bit about the worrisome girl while on her search.

She had been in the palace for a long time, since she was a young child. Her work had mostly consisted of cleaning clothes and mending. Until she had caught the attention of Lady Lihua a few months ago while she was in recovery. Supposedly, she had started to bring an arrangement of flowers whenever she brought clothes. The kindness hadn't gone unnoticed. She had supposedly been accepted into Lady Lihua's personal servants. Much to the chagrin of the other servants.

It didn't take a genius to detect the disdain and disgust in the servants voices when Maomao had inquired about her.

She talks to herself more than anyone else, stated one with an eyeroll.

Her routine is more important than Lady Lihua's wishes. Our poor lady. Mourned another.

She's so on edge, it's really easy to get her worked up. It's not our fault if she breaks something. Snapped another.

General consensus, this servant was a problem.

However, it was what Lady Lihua said herself that caught Maomao's attention.

She had stumbled across the concubine during her search, the woman flanked by two of her servants. She looked to enjoying a pleasant day and appeared slightly happy to see Maomao, going as far to inquire what she was doing over in her pavilion. When Maomao informed her of her task, she was interested to see the small pinch between her brow.

Ah, Y/N, I haven't seen her much today. I sent her to help with mending clothes. She's kind, just... I hope.... Well, I hope you can find her and bring her back. Lady Lihua offered little else to guide Maomao, but she could see the vague concern, the worry in the woman's eyes. She also saw that disgust in her companions eyes.

Who exactly was this servant?

Maomao found herself in the washing area. It was mostly silent, most of the girls either having dinner, or in bed. She made her way to the back where one of the few stragglers sat alone, sniffling as she scrubbed away at a stained robe...

A robe that looked oddly similar to Jinshi's.

In all honesty, she wasn't sure how to approach this. As she spotted the red shamed cheeks and the tears that silently and boldly made their way down the woman's cheeks, Maomao usually had something psychical to cure. An aliment that weighed heavily on their health, that was life or death. She could make a medicine for that. A drink, a food, a cream-- something that would satisfy the monster resting in someone's body.

The mind, though, the mind simply was a territory that Maomao never touched. Much too difficult, much too complicated, it was unknown territory. She couldn't see things from their point of view.

Just try lending an ear.

Maomao cleared her throat, feeling a speck of sympathy as she watched the girl tense, head snapping over to stare back with wide eyes. "Hi, are you the servant from the Garnet Pavilion?"

If possible, her eyes widened more, her hands clutching the robe to her chest. "Y-Yes..." she uttered, watching Maomao closely. "You're that apothecary everyone's been talking about..."

Not a question, but an observation.

Said apothecary nodded in return, "Yes."

The girl shook her head, "I'm not injured! I swear, I-I was foolish and if I was injured, then I would surely deserve it!" Her face was a deep crimson, her lips trembling, and eyes watering. It was obvious she was attempting desperately to push down the tears, but failing miserably. "I-I'm quite alright!"

"You don't look it." Maomao responded back flatly. "Jinshi-sama sent me."

The girl looked appalled, her back straightening and the tears falling freely now. "J-Jinshi?!" She exclaimed, clutching the stained robe against her chest, aghast and sickly looking as she panted. "O-Oh, I've done it now. I've humiliated myself! I'm going to be punished! Jinshi didn't deserve that! I'm so sorry."

Maomao blinked at her, eyebrows raised high at the reaction. She didn't entirely blame the girl for reacting so brashly at the mention of Jinshi. She would probably do the same if she was having a horrible day and he'd been brought up. Possibly the only person she wouldn't want to hear about as she's actively in the throes of a breakdown of some sort.

She walked forward, sitting down beside her as the girl seemed to continue her one sided conversation with herself. Her eyes wide and unrelenting as she stared at the ground below. Maomao watched her with a dent between her brow, vaguely fascinated by the panic and mostly disturbed by the anger towards herself. The mini glare not directed to anyone except herself.

She'd seen women be harsh on themselves. Seen what it could do to a person. Maomao could see it in the girl beside her now. The edge of a line that she wasn't sure if she should cross.

"I-I just...." The poor girl trailed off, her hands falling back to her lap as she stared at the robe. "I'm so clumsy.... and terribly embarrassing.... and I-I was just trying to pour some tea, then...oh, how pathetic."

"It was an accident, wasn't it?" Maomao asked softly, watching the girl's reaction closely.

She seemed to remember Maomao was with her, blinking, her face growing a shade darker. "What?"

"Whatever you did, it was an accident, wasn't it?" She repeated.

The girl clenched her jaw, looking away once again. "It's always an accident. I never do anything right. The Emperor is bound to notice and then I'll be punished because I'm so--"

"Jinshi-sama didn't send me to punish you or to check if you should be." The girl blinked, staring at her with wide eyes now. Maomao could see the barely concealed shock in her eyes, the way she seemed to relax slightly. The apothecary sighed heavily, turning her attention elsewhere. "He doesn't seem the type to punish anyone for a little mistake. Especially, when he's the same..."

The last part was uttered to herself and the girl didn't seem to pick it up as she pressed her lips together. A contemplative look on her expression. "I-I know, but.... still, I feel so guilty. I've put such a heavy burden onto Jinshi, convincing Lihua-sama to take me in... to not complain too harshly... I never wanted this..."

Maomao wouldn't even try to understand the broken speech, instead her mind was focused on that little slip. Jinshi convinced Lady Lihua to take this girl in? A extreme kindness. A extreme kindness that would allow this girl to make mistakes, to try her hardest and fail, and not suffer extreme consequences. Maomao couldn't help the suspicious kick in her chest. As she stared at the rambling girl. Why would Jinshi do that for her as an eunuch? How did he have that type of pull? Or, more correctly, what did he have over Lady Lihua to pull something like this off?

Her attention diverted to the robe and she huffed-- it's was Jinshi's. She was the cause of the tea mess. The cause of Jinshi's red face, his low mood, and the worry on his face.

Could he, perhaps..... Oh, what a development for a eunuch.

"Are they cruel to you?" Maomao cut into her rambles once again.

"Who?"

"The other servants. They can be cruel."

There was a prolonged silence. Maomao didn't dare interfere or break with the concentration. Her thoughts were wild and she was trying to grasp one that would benefit exactly what the apothecary was searching for. A string of thought that was sensical and helpful.

"Yes... so cruel," her lips wobbled again, she sniffled and tried to push the emotions away. "I didn't even do anything and they were so cruel. I tried telling Jinshi, but he's done... done so much for me, I can't throw that away. I can't take advantage of his kindness."

"Even if it was kindness now, how is feeling like this any type of comfort? Or kindness?" Maomao stood up, waving a hand. "You don't have to feel like this. Like you have to suffer for his feelings. If you're close, tell him that you liked your prior job, or ask for another."

The girl blinked slowly, lazily, a new exhaustion in her eyes as she regarded the other. "W-What's your name?"

She straightened. "Maomao." She bowed.

The girl stood, her hands tucked into her sleeves, she bowed in return. "Thank you, Maomao. It's been my pleasure to meet you."

Things seemed to return to normal, the routine was back in place, and Maomao hadn't been tasked with taking care of crying servants. Her conversation with Jinshi afterwards had been short and straight to the point.

Did you speak with her? Jinshi had been sitting at his desk pleasantly, ignoring the overwrought expression on Gaoshun's face.

Yes. Maomao had answered, eyeing Gaoshun oddly as he shook his head.

Jinshi perked up, And? What did she say?

I believe she's going to speak to you directly when she has the chance, Jinshi-sama. She informed him instantly.

Jinshi had beamed in a way that made Maomao weary, watching as he happily threw himself from his chair and up, already walking towards the door. Well, I'll just find her myself! Thank you, Apothecary!

She didn't get to say anything in return as he vanished around the door. Gaoshun offered his sympathies before running to follow the man out.

Maomao was just glad to have things back to normal. That's what she thought about as she approached Jinshi's quarters. Normalcy was welcomed and her heart was happy to return to things she knew. Medicine and the frolicking in the mini patches of growth she could take herbs from. Things were normal.

As Maomao approached, she was skeptical to enter as she heard a crash.

Okay, maybe not entirely normal.

She knocked on the door, hoping to hear that Jinshi was busy, but the door was opened and Gaoshun stood there with a thin smile.

"Xiaomao, thank you for coming." He bowed and stepped aside to let her inside.

When Maomao entered, she was half tempted to turn back around and leave.

Jinshi's face was stuck in a frozen state of shock, a crimson shade and his jaw dropped. He was sitting on the couch and his hands were up. In front of him, on her knees, was Y/N, frantically rubbing at his robe while apologizing profusely. She didn't sound like she was crying, but still sounded extremely embarrassed.

"I'm so sorry, Jinshi! My shoes are a tad big-- No, I'm not making an excuse!" She frantically tried to explain, pulling back to stare up at Jinshi with wide eyes. He remained unmoved, just making small noises of distress. "Jinshi, are you alright...?"

"I-I..I..." Jinshi just blinked at the wall across from him.

Maomao turned to Gaoshun, expression flat, "Can I come back later?"

Gaoshun looked ready to respond when Y/N spun around, her expression pulled up with delight and a beaming smile on her face. "Maomao!" She left Jinshi to his shock to wrap her arms around the younger girl (by one year). A tight hug that was unrelenting and conveying her exact emotions of pure elation. "My savior!"

Savior? Maomao thought as she blinked, arms stuck at her side. What is she even doing here?

She pulled back, placing her hands on her shoulder's, squeezing. "Thank you so much, Maomao! If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be blessed!" She continued on with her delight.

"Blessed?" Maomao audibly questioned, eyebrows furrowed and raised.

She nodded in response, smiling happily as she clutched onto Maomao's hands. "Yes! You gave me the confidence to tell Jinshi about my unhappiness! He's allowing me to work at his attending maid." She informed gracefully, sounding more happy and carefree than she had in the washing area the weeks prior.

Maomao wouldn't admit it, but it made her lips twitch upwards.

Y/N suddenly paled, turning back around. "Oh, Jinshi, I'll get something to clean up with!" And she darted out the room before Jinshi could give any type of response.

Maomao turned her attention to Jinshi with a tilted head, finding great amusement in his embarrassment. "You must be really fond of her if you gave her a job here." She observed.

If possible, Jinshi's complexion darkened further, his posture straightening. "Pardon?" He squawked, eyes wide as they stared at the younger girl.

She didn't understand why he was acting like she had said something scandalous. It wasn't uncommon for someone to grow fond of another's presence. Even if they were stripped of their manhood and promised to the Emperor for life. Y/N was kind enough and Maomao assumed they were friends of some kind to have Jinshi calling in favors of some kind.

Still... his reaction...

"You two seem like good friends." Maomao clarified.

A weight seemed to lift of his shoulders as he leaned back into the couch. "Yes, I suppose we are." His voice was a mere utter, soft and distant. It appeared that he was contemplating something forgotten or something that he often thought about but pushed into the back of his mind.

Y/N reentered with a cloth and small basin of water. She returned to Jinshi's side who stared at her with a blush and wide eyes. The attention he gave her was close and unwavering. No type of falter and no distraction that could possibly take away his attention. She appeared completely oblivious as she scrubbed away at the stain on his robe resting on his thigh.

Maomao narrowed her eyes on the glitter in Jinshi's eye, ready to make a comment, when Gaoshun placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'll inform you of the favor, Xiaomao." And he tugged her away.

However, Maomao thought endlessly about the expression on Jinshi's face. The kindness he exhibited for the girl much too clumsy for her own good. The tenderness he regarded her with. It was almost as if... Well, that couldn't be right.

It was almost as if Jinshi liked Y/N. In a more than friendly way.

Maomao scoffed at the thought, laying down in her bed. Her pa always said she was too speculative. Much too whimsical.

The man was an eunuch after all.

#✩࿐ t writes #jinshi #maomao #the apothecary diaries #jinshi x reader #jinshi x you #jinshi x y/n #the apothecary diaries x reader #the apothecary diaries x you #the apothecary diaries imagine #the apothecary diaries fic #jinshi fic

907 notes · View notes

thatdeadaquarius · 11 months

Note

Hi Aquarius!

I had an idea I wanted to share with you: SAGU creator reader who likes to make little bits and bobs for their acolytes. For example, Childe vaguely mentions that his gloves are starting to wear out? The creator crochets or knits him a new pair-Can’t have his fingers getting chilled in the Snezneyan snow now can we?

(I just wanna give my skrunklis lil gifts and make them happy is all :3)

(Also, could I possibly be 💌anon?)

WHOFOHNJDFjhkbfsgddf Genuine keyboard slam i just kinda slammed my hands down in excitement ahem-

That would be a lovely idea anon, yes very much so indeed,

so im like hella into giving ppl useful but still aesthetic/pretty gifts, like i dont want the things i give ppl to be things that get donated/thrown away (when i genuinely care abt a person)

Also IF I DIDNT RUN U OFF FOR BEING SO LATE YES HELLO U CAN DEFINITELY BE 💌 ANON THATS SO CUTE I LOVE THAT EMOJI-

☆

Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them only)

Planet: General SAGAU / Isekai Stuff, Platonic Cutenss

Orbit: Headcanons-ish, a couple sentences for each

Stars: Everybody from elements Pyro, Electro and Anemo! Plus Aether/Lumine/Dainsleif!

Please understand that some characters are more “foreground” characters and have more screen time so I may have written some more for them because I knew them better!

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: weapons for gifts?? 16+ Older Teen + Up Audiences Advised, light cussing

& Trigger Warnings: None Known.

SO U KNOW WHAT THAT MEANSSSS

THIS IS MY JAMMMMM, MY PB&J BITCHEESSSS GET REKTT

☆

AHAHAHAHA- YOU’RE ALL GETTIN SPAMMED WITH JUST GIFT IDEAS I HAVE FOR WHAT TO GIVE THEM- YOU DO NOT HAVE CHOICE. YOU WILL BE GIVING GIFTS TO THE TEYVATIANS, THEY DESERVE GOOD THINGS. SUCK IT.

EDIT 9/19/23: WTF HELLO??!!! 1000+ NOTES??!?! THANK YOU SO MUCH?!!!!!! <3

PART 1 (you're here!) / PART 2

ELEMENTS HERE: Babygirls, Pyro, Electro, Anemo

☆

Babygirls:

Aether = The most beautiful, amazing, sleek, and functional pretty hairpin that is also a knife! So he can have that badass moment of unsheathing it from his hair and having a surprise weapon and showing off his long hair, acted all shy when you gave it to him, he doesn’t get gifts often, all the birthday letters were for you afterall, i feel like you deffo have walked in on him miming taking it out all badass for practice lol

Lumine = bless her, you handed her this gift and she just looked up at you and u swear didnt blink or look away for a full minute. Then she nearly crushed you to death squeezing you, god she’s muscular, as you made a sort of self-care kit, including her favorite scents you added to like blank soaps/face masks, and towels you initialed with “Lumi”, she deserves a break afterall (and she thinks you deserve it too, and subtly tries to get you to join like *“*oh this is so sweet, something for us to do together”)

Dainsleif = sad little man deserves happy little things, you make him a weighted blanket, in these blankets it’s usually like sand or something that is put into little like quilt squares so it evenly distributes weight, but you used that water from the fountain that soothes Khaenri’ah people’s curse instead. He literally went speechless when you gave it to him. He has not had a single night of insomnia since. He would literally do anything for you, and literally stole you off to the side after a few nights of good sleep to tell you this lmao

Pyro Allogenes:

Diluc = Another bitch who just needs a break, you steal him off one evening and tell him you need a hilichurl camp wiped out, and there’s a cryo mage so you need him, bc thats the only way this workaholic is actually gonna drop everything and actually take care of himself, you have to deceive him, and then surprise him by showing him a hot spring you found. Teyvat has a lot more things to it now that it’s in real life, and that includes natural hot springs apparantly, and you’ve already prepped the place too, with his favorite non-alcoholic drinks, some indulgent foods like chocolate and fruits, and a soft robe. Man’s went wide eyed and nearly fell in LMAO, and then, looking away all pink, said he couldn’t accept this… unless you joined him.

Amber = a pair of comfy shoes, with baron bunny decorated all over them, like you sewed patches over them to personalize it, and the insoles are GODLY good, so she can run to Sumeru at this rate and her feet will feel like she went for a light jog! Some Mondstadt citizens, and knights tbh, are honestly a little afraid of Amber now bc her feet aching was sometimes the only thing stopping her from going 100% all the time lol

Bennett = a lucky charm, yes, yes, I know, basic, but it’s different coming from you! You’ve given him a bandana to wear as a neckerchief around his throat (it’s unprotected and he’s that unlucky?!) and it fits great, you’ve made it from Liyue materials, and imbued it with geo energy, so it actually makes a small shield/barrier around his head lmao, he’s practically thanking you every week and telling you how it helped him that week 💀

Klee = a treasure hunt map you made! every little stop/treasure gives her some candy or a snack, plus the next instructions, and she insists you go with her, and drags you along lol, and you planted them within range of the Mondstadt so she’s not too far off, and the final treasure (bc u planned it so she was supposed to start at a certain time/get to the end in a few hours) she finds at late sunset, and it’s a type of challenge that u were able to make, (bc apparently being the “highest god” means u get dev access, like the teapot functions but more OP). It makes a rainbow of glowing fish appear as targets to better Klee’s bomb throwing skills, and to entertain her, she gives the most dramatic gasp ever, and is just vibrating telling you “The fishes! They’re so pretty! ‘Bedo said that you give the greatest gifts, and he was so, so, so SO right!! Thank you very much!!!” :D in her cute little voice and then proceeds to speedrun you a hug and then starts throwing bombs lmao

Xiangling = HOO BOY- she has nearly every cooking utensil known to man, thanks to her being a young famous chef, and bc her family’s restaurant makes good money bc of it, so it was hard to think of something for her, but you eventually made her a handwritten and sewn together recipe book (look up “how to make zine”, its very easy actually, theres one with sewing the paper and a smaller one with just folding). It’s full of all of your favorites from Earth and what you think could substitute here, and how it should taste. Xiangling literally took your hands and spun you bc she hates luxury stuff, and really loves and appreciates homemade gifts, it’s the first anyone’s heard of your homeworld’s food so it makes her feel special <3 (she will be constantly harassing you with a spoonful of food to try and see if it’s close)

Hu Tao = You remembered one of Shakespeare’s plays and wrote a rough screenplay for Yunjin to adapt, then took Hu Tao with you to see it! She loves poetry and singing, so she loves to see Yunjin play usually, but she hadn’t had the time lately bc of funeral spirit work, (u also brought Zhongli so she could have fun embarrassing him lol), and she literally made a whole bit/joke about getting down on one knee to marry you, which was promptly interrupted by said embarrassed adepti, people even clapped lmao

Xinyan = You made her an aweinspiring outfit to wear onstage, modeled after classic rockstars from your world, she nearly teared up at the sight of it, and then nearly took ur ear out bc she was getting so loud and excited, u try to convince her otherwise, but Xinyan refuses to wear it outside of big occasions like Lantern Rite or performances with Yunjin (looks like this, I tried very hard ok, check it: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/76631631152377154/)

Yanfei = Once again, a written book, or at least 20 rap songs for her to look through. This sounds weird, but she eventually hopes to see a future where people are just better at obeying laws and considers then she’d be out of a job. So, after seeing some of Xinyan’s performances, she decided her back up career would be a rapper. She will literally stop you every time she sees you and lowkey force you to hear her latest rap she’s made, partially inspired from the Earth ones you gave her a lot of the time! She literally talked your ear off for hours, and didnt realize that she linked arms with you at one point and made you both walk at least 3 miles around the port lol, very embarrassed but grateful for the gift, another person who really adores homemade stuff

Thoma = you sewed him a cute plushie of Taromaru, along with a little plushie tea cup set. He literally covered his mouth in shock, and turned away, were those tears?? Very carefully took his gift and nearly bent in half bowing and thanking you for the gift, and was cutely touchy all day, linking arms, guiding you by gently nudging your back in crowds, etc. You once woke him up out a day nap on accident trying to find him, and he walked out half-asleep clutching the plushie Taromaru and nearly jumped a foot in the air at the sight of you lol, all like “HIGH EMPEROR?! OH MY- Oh my gods- Uh- sorry, so sorry about that!” and then proceeds to immediately hide Taro behind his back all red in the face lmao, refuses to acknowledge it, will get even redder if you keep pressing him about it lol

Yoimiya = so Yoimiya canonically really loves to go out into nature and explore, and go for that sunset hike type of person! so you, once again assume all these thru tutorial or teyvat craftsmen help, made her a hammock! She’s apparently really bad about falling asleep outside, and since hammocks can be really lightweight and good for temperate weather (ive tried it, sleepin in a hammock for camping its kinda nice, as long as you dont fall out/toss and turn a lot in ur sleep), and you even added some extra ropes on the sides so she can tie it down and not upend herself while she’s sleeping (keeps the hammock from tilting). She literally squealed and dragged u all over Inazuma trying it out with you, and because she chats with her neighbors/community a lot, EVERYONE KNOWS YOU GOT HER A HAMMOCK, YOU PAINTED IT AND EVERYTHING, DID YOU KNOW YOIMIYA IS ONE OF THE ALLOGENES THAT GOT BLESS WITH A PERSONAL GIFT FROM THE ALL-GOD??!! - everyone in Inazuma near her house, including yoimiya

Dehya = so Dehya likes to upkeep personal hygiene as much as she can between her mercenary job roughness and the general battery of the desert. She also is known to stop by the market place to pick up makeup and other personal hygiene products! So you figured if she’s collected so many of those over time, she might just have a practical bag to carry them in, and you offer her a multi-pocket cloth bag (like for taking makeup when you travel bags) and also attach a mirror inside! She literally covered her face with her hands and Dunyazard lightly teased her for weeekkssss lmao, and the other guys in her mercenary group like “wowww, someone managed to tame the Flame Mane?” which just makes her more shy bc the God of ALL decided to HANDMAKE her a gift, and not just a frilly thing, an ACTUAL USEFUL PRETTY GIFT- she accidentally set her claymore alight when you finished explaining what it was and handed to her (it’s fireproof too)

Electro Allogenes:

Lisa = a decorated tea set! Specifically, you painted it her favorite color, with some of her favorite book quotes across the saucers and her favorite flowers across the teapot. She gave you the prettiest smile, and just “Oh cutie! For little old me? You’re a bit above a librarian like me, but I’ll still accept this with all the grace of a lady courted, haha!” insists on “trying them out” with you all the time, especially when you get too busy from the other allogenes <3

Fischl (they/them Fischl supremacy) = You made a book cover (like how some books will have the paper sleeve and the actual hardcover is just colored? like that) of Prinzessin der Verteilung, but looking a lot more like them rather then the old protagonist! They collectively lost their mind over it for literal weeks, and did the same for you for your most relatable protagonist! :D They insist you two start a fantasy book club now- NO they don’t care if you’re the All Fürst! That makes you all the more qualified for joining the elite literature society they’re starting!

Razor = a bunch of hair ties! You’ve made scrunchies, bows, clips, etc. for him to try and decorate his hair with, all of things he likes, like little wolf puppies, or Andrius’ but cuteified, little symbols of all his friends like little bomb design hairclips for Klee, a red four leaf clover for Benny, a purple rose for Lisa, a golden star for the traveler, and an eight pointed star, like the four-pointed one but with some flare in between its points. A prominent symbol apparently associated with you u found out :0, Razor is giving Barbara and Klee a run for their money bc of how cute he looks walking into town for Lisa’s lessons with all this cute little clips and hair ties and braids in his hair now <3

Keqing = you know. you know EXACTLY what to give her. Plushies of cute animals or creatures in or around Liyue, like the little snow foxes from Dragonspire, a tiny oceanid, the small geovishaps, etc. Keqing doesn’t care if you’re a god, remember! So you better swear to never tell a soul you made her these!! …she sleeps with them too.

Raiden Shogun (puppet) = what to give a cold hard b*tch? …a break. you talk to Ei and make her give the puppet some off days, and you also may or may not have bullied Ei for being a hermit, so she can explore and learn more about herself, instead of being forced into the image, literally, of her god. She tries to write you months in advance for making plans on her days off so you can join her!

Ei (god) = an open window bc she’s a hermit, i mean of course you bring her out on “updates” (she weirdly choked a little over tea when you presented this idea to her, “Ahem- cough- a date? Oh, as in getting more familiar with the world, yes of course,” you basically pull out a map and take her to other countries so she can see how the other gods are doing these days and finally do something new, she is overwhelmed but in a good way? And she's especially willing to do it if you keep calling them that, these “up-dates”

Yae Miko = you were honestly kind of intimidated by giving Yae Miko a handmade gift, it just seemed like she would like something of high quality, which your gifts weren’t always guaranteed to be. So instead, you didn’t. You made a cool little picnic, and in remembering her love of stories from her lore as a kid, you brought some of your world’s stories to show her, the classics, then any favorites of yours, and some you thought she might like, and read them all to her about once a week. You both talk about and discuss the book and let Yae nitpick it and try to give her more context for books like Shakespeare in hope to answer all her detailed questions about the stories. Yae was so fucking smug (and secretly so in love) that she wrote a story for Yae Publishing House about it… “Joining a Book Club with the Akitsu Mikami, a Romance Novel” 💀

Sara = damn another busy woman, you steal her away with the promise of “needing a body guard” and she immediately answers and drops everything (u made sure to choose a slow day, dw ur not a rude god) andddd you’ve got her! Sara literally just stood there in shock when you showed up at your meeting place with homecooked food, specifically new recipes from your world, and some recipes from Xiangling! She would not stop stuttering out thanks yous the entire time, and fumbled with her chopsticks constantly, and she ate a lot, and even shyly asked if she could take some of it with her for later, now anytime you mention food around her she unintentionally starts looking at you with puppy dog eyes, (baby crow eyes??) even if the rest of her posture is perfect/gives nothing away lol

Beidou = A hand woven wine cask holder! a bit more solid so you can paint some designs on it, and you painted the whole crew, with Kazuha in the crow’s nest and Beidou is the biggest figure on it (stylized, u arent trying to paint a renaissance artwork here) and you even put her name on it “Captain Beidou” :) You were rewarded with a tall muscular woman squeezing you with her muscular arms, Beidou only puts her best wine/sake bottle in it, and only uses it for special occasions! she may or may not have had to make sure and hide it in her Captain’s quarters so other pirates won’t steal it, since everybody on the seas heard about the All Mighty giving her a personalized gift, but dont worry! She’s a pirate captain, she’s used to defending her most prized treasures from others <3

Shinobu = a spa day for another overworking woman, you made her another mask and hair tie! They still match her of course, but they also subtly have that eight point star symbol you’ve had associated with yourself before (like the four point but with a little flare), and she literally went so red, she hid behind Itto for a second. who helped morally support her enough to try it on, and it’s definitely her most comfortable mask!

Cyno = you were a little… embarrassed to make this one, but Cyno mentioned wanting it so… You made a TCG card of yourself. With the world in your hands as you hover in the middle of a solar system, you paint yourself giving a small smile down at Teyvat’s world cupped in your hands. One of the symbols they associate with you, the eight pointed star, not equal points, but rather a four pointed star with embellishments, said symbol glows and dangles from a necklace you wear, above it all. You swear he stared at it for a solid minute without blinking, and when you initially offered it, Cyno held it like it was spun glass. He gently laid it on a table nearby, his eyes never leaving it as he got out his deck, and put the card of you, on the very top. The mahamatra then gently set it down, and then gently hugged you and picked you up off your feet a bit (when you said maybe you were too heavy for this, he just raised an eyebrow, and that’s when you remembered that trailer of him throwing a body-builder man, one-armed, over his shoulder. He easily lifted you and set you back down. 💀)

Dori = A herb garden. Strange, but Dori’s sister has a lot of medical issues, and the herbs can be hard to come by, even for Dori, you didn’t tell her that you read some parts of her life, but when she saw the planter box, she knew. You had ventured far and wide, all over Teyvat, and the stuff you had came with you! so you put one of every herb you had or went out and got some because you’ve been exploring Teyvat anyway. And for once… you made sure no one was around, Dori teared up. She carefully set the box full of lively plants aside, and you were in the middle of explaining how to take care of them when she just, wrapped her smaller frame around your lower legs. You squatted down to hug her back :’)

Anemo Allogenes:

Venti = another book you made (look up “how to make a zine” on youtube it’s actually kinda easy) that you filled with all the lyrics to all your favorite songs, and some classics! The bard was ecstatic because he technically had vague knowledge or recognition of most of Teyvat’s songs, but songs from another world didn’t count, hehe! …he may or may not have lightly guilt-tripped you into trying to sing or hum some of the tunes or melodies of the songs, “I need to hear the melody so I may play it for you for eternity, your highness!” That’s his gift back, is that now you can get a Venti medieval sounding cover version of any song you like lmao

Sucrose = you’ve made another book (bought in Teyvat or made, check out “how to make a zine” on youtube it’s easy so I think you could feasibly handmake it!) and filled it with as much information as you can on how things like electricity works, luckily you can still retrieve information from Earth thanks to Albedo managing to somehow get you a signal?? You don’t wanna know, but point is, she’s literally spiraling. It’s been days, Albedo had to be the one to drag her out of the lab and eat, while you are starting to doubt if your gift did more harm then help… as soon as you voice these thoughts to Sucrose she nearly shook your head off from shaking your shoulders so hard while she ranted about phones, telephone poles, paved roads and she actually offered books back in exchange, for leveling allogenes up, as long as you told her more about “Those ships that go underwater again?? Please, Your Highness???” cute puppy dog eyes but worse bc she’s got cute glasses on too, oh no-

Jean = another workaholic woman who just needs a break, god why are there so many of them?? Your first thought was a spa day, but you like to think you can do better than that. In fact, she’s had a pretty heavy load since she was a kid trying to uphold the Gunnhildr clan’s name/knighthood, so you decide that instead of spa day, you should have a fun day! So you decide to take her out some days for some fun around Mondstadt (and recruit Venti to help do things like boost the winds for extra fun), like shield surfing! (look up Breath of the Wild shield surfing video if you dont know what i mean), it's something a lot of young knights do, and it’s perfect for Mondstadt’s hilly landscape! Other things like flying kites, or even rerouting all her work for part of the Windblume festival so she could enjoy it more! THEN you kidnap her all over again, and Barbara, to go to Fontaine! What better way for her to have genuine fun than getting a break to see and have fun with her younger sister and go see a colorful circus/fair? Jean was literally just a constant stream of “thank you your majesty! my gracious god, thank you- this is too much-, All-Fürst I am forever indebted to you for this!” and ur just like :/ Jean that’s the whole point of a gift is that you aren’t indebted to somebody-

Xiao = a friendship bracelet :) since he likes jewelry, and he likes you, it's perfect! and u made it match his necklace. you’ve also put that same water from the fountain that soothes the Khaenri’ah’s curse, and put it in there, and it actually lessens his karma, so for the first time in about 2 centuries, Xiao the Yaksha, can actually sleep through the night. You weren’t looking, but when you turned away to show him your sketches or plans for how to craft it, he sort of, reached out. You felt his hand warm on your wrist before it retreated, you could already feel the callouses, as the small weight of a bracelet was wrapped around your hand, his return gift, so u guys could match 👉👈 Xiao breathes out what sounds like all those years of pain in one shaky, relieved, “…thank you” (he did all that while you were turned around in your bag too, he was too shy to look at you when he put it on lmao)

Kazuha = “So this is what you’ve been up to lately, hm?” Kazuha’s been kind and laidback enough that he’s one of the allogenes who quickly dropped the formal titles luckily. He’s been seeing you sneak around and present your gifts to the others… and he came prepared in case you came to give him something too! Before you can even get out, “Hey, Kazuha, do you have a minute? I’ve got something for y-” boom. He’s beat you to it, he’s saying the same damn thing, and pulling out his gift for you. It’s a lovely Inazuman outfit, decked out in your favorite color, it’s like if you were an Inazuman character yourself- You just accept it half in shock, while Kazuha gives this small smile, but u can see the smug little look in his eyes, that little shit he really prepared a countermove- HE EVEN WROTE YOU REALLY SWEET POETRY AND EMBROIDERED IT INTO SOME OF THE INSIDE HEM LINES LIKE THE COLLAR -//////- ← you rn as Kazu’s all fucking smug, you end up just being like “take ur crummy gift u little shit” and nearly throw it at him lol, sweet asshole that he is, catches it anyway, and you’ve made him new hair ties, some minimal clips that look like maple leaves (like felt fabric stuck onto the clip bit) and the new hairtie is more like a scrunchie with a pretty red knot on top, your own symbol of an eight-pointed star, like an extra four-pointed star not the star of david lmao, sits in the center of the traditional japanese knot. He wears it nearly all the time, and mentions making you one to match (>:/ sweet considerate little shit he is)

Sayu = you’ve made her a quilt! stitched together from all sorts of cute fabrics, so it still matches her color scheme, she wraps up in it now before going into that balled up tanuki form lol, she insists you break it in with her and take a nap with her constantly lmao, and you give in even if you dont always sleep because of her tiny half-asleep smile (sayu knows the grip she has on you lol💔)

Heizou = a mystery novel a friendship necklace! you knew him and his friend had once had something similar, (they were more like matching river rocks or pebbles not jewelry you think) so you desperately hoped it wouldn’t be too offensive. The little shit who saw it coming #2, whereas Kazuha suspected you might offer him something, he didn’t have quite the same intution that Heizou did, so the detective knew you were going to give him something >:/ little snitch- he was so smug and teasing about it right up until he actually saw the necklace, it draped lower so it didnt look weird with his choker, and it was a pretty crystal you’d gotten from a riverbed (you didnt tell Heizou bc of the similarity w/his old friend, but he knew anyway) and he immediately looked the most serious you’ve ever seen him. His grin was less of a smirk and more of a smile when he processed what you gave him, and he wears it all the time :) Calls it his "God blessed good luck charm"

Scara/Wanderer = It was very hard, and you had to learn how from a blacksmith, but you finally got it! You made a small addon that latches onto the outside frame of his Vision, so instead of the sort of teardrop shape it has, you’ve made a heart shape. Since he sees the vision as his heart, you thought it’d be cute to actually see it that way! He was all like “I don’t wear jewelry, I already have some metal holding my Vision, are you trying to embarrass me?” You: “okay, well you don’t have to keep it, I’ll take it back-” Scara: “No? Shut up it’s mine now.” He went pink the first time he put it on, and he only wears it when it’s just you two, or you both and Nahida (bless her, she only lightly teased him, just enough to have him yell a little, not enough to discourage him)

Faruzan = a compass that points towards ruins/magical places, so she can explore all the ruins the desert has to give, and also, more importantly, guides her out, you deffo relied on a blacksmith for this one, and got Nahida to help you add the magic to it. She just got this, soft and bittersweet? look on her face, and redirected the nostalgic look towards you, bowed gently and thanked you, … you offered her a hug. Faruzan accepted, and you could feel the way she exhaled, relieved.

☆

(Throws this garbage at you really late and runs away to my bed)

Hope u liked literally any of that! ;-;

Also im not done as you can see! Im doing all the elements bc i love these skrunklies-

☆

Safe Travels Anon,

💀♒️

♡my beloved♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche

#another mammoth of a post that wouldve just been ONE LMAO #but i saved u from that chaos bc i rlly wanted to post and i was getting impatient #😗✌️#look out for part2!#genshin sagau #sagau #my asks #genshin isekai #genshin imagines #gender neutral reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin reader insert #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin #✨️forgot all my tags again✨️#genshin platonic #genshin women x reader

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yourheart-inmyhands · 5 months

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Hii, just call me Skull anon. I've been very curious about how different yanderes would do so I'm asking for a request.

How would Xiao, Albedo, and Wriothesley deal with a Drug addict reader who was already in an unstable state, struggling to survive with rent and had bad trauma? The trauma could be anything you'd like.

Of course, you can deny this request if it makes you uncomfortable. No pressure or anything.

so i was a little hesitant to do this because I wasn't sure how well I could properly portray this, but going sort of off my own experience with certain things and trying to remain calm i wrote this. i can't really explain what compelled me to, but i do hope you enjoy this and please, read the warnings for this one :] <3

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including delusional behaviors, implied being held against will, manipulation tactics, mentions of substance abuse and recovery from it, obsessive behaviors, and other potential topics. Please Read At Your Own Risk!

Yandere!Xiao would be concerned internally but look indifferent externally. He’s conflicted, because he knows you’re struggling and that humans are a lot weaker, that you need help, but he doesn’t know how to help, he’s never had to be in this position before. He consults many people, fellow adepti, Zhongli, even the Traveler, none of whom he gives the full picture to but instead dances around the main ideas and works off vague descriptions.

Xiao’s first step in helping you was moving you in to the Wangshu Inn with him, where he could watch over you better. He has a reserved room there, though he never really uses it. Sleep is beyond his needs so he rarely rests, but you need rest so he allows you to have the room. This comes with him barging in on you whenever he sees fit though, day to night at any moment he could pop in without you even knowing. He had a strange way of doing that, a lot. He isn’t sure how to help with trauma or substance abuse, those aren’t the evils he usually fights, but he knows people he can ask about that. Xiao didn’t like admitting that he didn’t know what to do, but grumbling and giving Baizhu some vague descriptions of the situation helped him get a better idea of what to do. Xiao decides to take the soft approach of slowly weening you off the awful stuff, not wanting you to be left with more problems from quitting cold turkey. It’s a long road and Xiao was sorta kinda prepared to help you through it. He likes having you this close though, this dependent on him and his help.

Yandere!Albedo struggles with his feelings. His lack of humanity means he really only experiences feelings that are typically in abundance, meaning he doesn’t feel unless the feeling is so strong it cannot be ignored. His research is all he really knows so he takes the opportunity to offer ‘assistance.’ In exchange for staying with him and allowing him to study your responses and reactions, he would help you with your addiction.

It seemed like a good deal at first, Albedo would provide adequate housing, a quaint apartment in the heart of Mondstat, in exchange for being allowed to study you as he helped you over your drug problem. It would kill two birds with one stone no? What he didn’t tell you though was that he planned to have you quit cold turkey, wanting to watch how your body would respond to the sudden withdrawals. Of course, if anything started to border on the edge of life-threatening, he’d take preventative measures to ensure you lived, but otherwise, you were not permitted to leave or take any addictive substances. Albedo oversees all your care, meaning that for the entire recovery process, you are confined to a bedroom with him hovering over you, notepad and pencil in hand and large, unblinking eyes boring holes into you. It was unsettling, and even when you were on the upswing, finally getting to where the grass was greener, he still refused to allow you out or allow others in, saying that it could compromise the research. In reality, he just didn’t want anyone else near you, he had loved having you all to himself and didn’t want to share you ever again.

Yandere!Wriothesley is surprisingly educated on what to do. Not only had a few people in similar conditions come through the prison, but it was his job to make sure that he knew everything about everyone who passed into this place. With the help of some staff at the Fortress of Meropide, he moves you into a room in the staff wing, assigning you a set of personalized staff to help with your addictions. There were only two conditions, he would check in on you every day to ensure you were sticking to your recovery and that when you were finally okay, you would work as his assistant to pay off your debt.

Wriothesley wasn’t worried about the money that was put towards your recovery, it was nothing to someone with the title of Duke. He was more concerned with you being alive than momentary pleasures like wealth, but he used the excuse of you needing to pay him back to keep you around longer. He checks in with you every day, typically around dinner time, he’ll take a break to eat with you and talk about your day, building a relationship and establishing a connection, but sometimes he takes short breaks to check in on you. Wriothesley also speaks with the assigned group of nurses and staff that were there specifically for you every day, getting word from them on your progress and how things are looking. He enjoys seeing you slowly getting better day by day, his hope for the future strong as he dreams of the day you become officially his. He had no intention of ever letting you leave the Fortress of Meropide, at least not without him, arm wrapped protectively around you as he escorts you around, as a partner should.

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collectivecloseness · 2 months

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(Nsfw) ok but do u have a hc at all on who’s better at going down on a lady, Steve Harrington or Eddie Munson?

Okay but I absolutely do for sure and I have thought this for the longest time.

(Cw: 18+)

Steve I think didn’t even know that was a thing at first, back in his king Steve days. He was all about missionary, or blowjobs, or other more common stuff he’d hear about, not that he was a selfish lover or anything. Sure he’d touch girls down there, of course he would, but the clit? Who knows where that is, he’d trust they’ll say/moan something if he finds it. Not to say he doesn’t learn though.

Absolutely not. As Steve becomes a better person, but also gains more experience, he hears about this for the first time and he wants the girls he’s with to feel happy and enjoy it and make sure they cum as well (not faking it which he’s trying to distinguish for sure now) but at least feeling safe and enjoying it. It is important to him that his partners are enjoying everything just as much as he is, even very early on before he’d learned more. As long as they’re happy, satisfied, and safe, Steve can end it happy as well.

But Steve’s knowledge comes in at a pretty normal time for a guy in Hawkins in the 80’s, and he’s definitely a lot a lot more willing to try it. Firstly asking a girl he trusts how to do it, then he found a book he could get without anyone recognising him, to read and keep hidden deep under his bed. As well as as time goes on, checking out some more tapes from the back adults only section of Family Video, so he can check what it’s ‘supposed’ to be like from other angles, not just when he’s looking up buried between thighs.

So at first, probably until he gets a long term partner who will work him though it, rather than a quick hookup, which they at least leave highly satisfied from and will tell other girls considering a date with the previous king of Hawkins High that it’s definitely worth a shot, at first Steve’s techniques are more just that; techniques. Things he’s read about and heard, like tongue here there diagonal short then fast, or the alphabet method, or following step by step something from his book that could be misconstrued as a ddr pattern or something.

Mostly Steve’s very focused on doing it right, and that is for the pleasure of his partners. But he does have to be taught by a girl he trusts where the clit exactly is at first, or more so, how to know if he’s touching it correctly. Shocked that it ranges from about 60-80% of sex without using the clitoris doesn’t end in orgasm for girls (although in Steve’s defence, that stat is much much lower with him, again, an unselfish lover even in the beginning, and also, he’s still Steve Harrington). He’s still a bit flustered trying to figure things out without being gentlemanly vague, but Steve really does care about your experience a lot.

And if you’re his partner, damn. Steve becomes such a good boy trying to ask you every single time he’s down there if what he’s doing is right, if you’re still okay, if he should change up, if he’s hurting you, if you finished, if you can handle round four - because holy shit girls can handle a lot more than even big boy Steve Harrington thought. He’s genuinely very considerate and sweet, caring a lot about your experience, and he will shut up and just get on with it and try and listen to your body, because he doesn’t want to stop if you’re feeling good; you go through some ideas with him, like thigh tapping signals.

But Steve will totter to you and ask you with his hand out if you two can go practice again, pretty please?

Steve may not have been the best student in high school, but he definitely wants to do some research in this field, and he is more than happy to perform some experiments. It’s called growing <3. He won’t ask you too much, and he won’t bother you with it, but he will come ask you in very sweet ways, like laying his head on your lap, or getting on his knees, or sucking into your neck just the same way he does your cunt. Or if you two are beginning to have sex, he’ll ask if you’d like him to do that first. And then he might want to do it afterwards as well. Especially if you would like to go for another round (Steve is not a one and done guy). Again, he’s learning all about the female body and experience so much :)

Steve is also... big. So it definitely does help, if he’s getting on his knees or tummy before you two make love <3. Although to be honest, not that you need it much anyway considering Steve gets you wet so easily. You remember Steve playing with your hair and whispering sweet nothings to you, before making out for a while, when you two decided to go to the bedroom. And when Steve undressed you, like a gentleman, and went to add more foreplay, and saw how soaked you were, he actually fucking laughed, like an adorable loving dork, and said out loud “Wow.” To be honest, it only helped you want him more.

Then again Steve eating you out after he’s cum in you slightly works against his breeding kink, although it’s not too much of an issue because Steve still throughly enjoys it. He also likes being able to be a little messy and dirty and free with you, and he also likes cleaning you up and helping you out once again, it works in so many ways to be honest. Not to mention the obvious, Steve likes going down on you, he wants to do it again, and also doing so after you two had made love was kinda hot. One time he had tears in his sweet brown eyes while licking out his cum, which took a minute to get to because Steve had fucked it deep in you, but when you promised he could fill you up again after he finished cleaning you up here, because he’d been so lovely today, you swear you saw his heart burst, just from the sparkles in his caramel eyes.

You’re definitely expanding Steve to lots of new intimate and interesting things to do with sex. Not that he was boring beforehand, but he didn’t want to risk going with something he wasn’t sure if he wasn’t good at, and he didn’t really get into another relationship until you, or really trust the other enough to be vulnerable and think within himself about his own explorations. He didn’t really think or get to physically explore about himself too much until you really. And you definitely helped him feel more open to do some introspection on himself, even at some surface level stuff to do with vulnerabilities and sex/love making things.

Steve does however figure this out very early days, probably with Nancy because he did love her, but it’s not something he really let himself indulge in or mind wonder about, until you. And that’s the fact he loves sucking on some boobies <3. Actually makes him feel incredibly calm and happy and like he can just shut down from being big protector Harrington, and just be Stevie in love and being taken care of, by taking care of.

Absolutely loves just settling his head down and softly holding you and mouthing around your boobs with the comfort of knowing that’s all he’s got to do right now, and it’s making you happy too. So to realise he can suck on something else of yours? That tastes of you even more, and makes you extremely happy too? Steve can bob those lovely cheeks around three different things and not accidentally overstimulate you, and really let his mind soften into loving and affectionate time with you, his love <333

Steve is a good guy and he is learning a lot. Happily doing so, he wants to be a good enough person for you, but also, hell yeah Steve Harrington is loving this too! Why don’t all guys like eating out their girlfriends?

Eddie is bouncing off all four walls if he doesn’t eat pussy soon.

Actually one of the first things he wants to do sexually. Yeah the first time he has sex he’s trying not to cream his pants but he’s also so desperate to please. But also to taste... to experience all that loveliness. The first time he does it it’s not only to please, but to try and prove he’s good, he likes them, to try and make himself good enough so they don’t leave, but he very quickly realises they all will. Well until you that is. Although Eddie Munson does go through a little bit of a slutty era before that - I mean, he was doomed by having that slutty, slutty waist.

After the first girl or two it’s mostly about pleasing his lovely lady acquaintances. But also a little bit of pride knowing their jock boy toys will never be as good as him, and those girls will know it, and never be able to feel the same with them after. He hopes it frees his good old friends, get them some real partners. And yeah, to give them one hell of a lifetime ride.

The all encompassing warmth and smell and taste and sounds and feel of you is something Eddie craves constantly. It’s like his safe place. That and it really helps with his oral fixation. And the man is obsessed. He will not be leaving you for hours. He’s biting all up your arm, big chomps over and over, beforehand, licking at you randomly, pretending he’s so sweet to kiss your cheek but actually poking it with the tip of his tongue. These aren’t even always precursors to Eddie’s meal of the day, he is just like that.

He wants to bury himself there and breathe you only. Why should Eddie care about o2 or whatever that bitches name is, they didn’t help him pass chemistry. The only chemistry Eddie cares about is between you and him... You push his face away in retaliation at that awful flirting. But Eddie is pouncing right back, laugh roaring, and biting down over your pelvis, which gets you to push him away again, this time with a laughing shriek. He’s just eager, he won’t bite where it hurts, but like, if you’re gonna be running your hands through his hair as you’re calling his name, he’s going to surprise lick your fingers occasionally. Or bite. Maybe suck on something a little. Your thighs and boobs are constantly getting apology smooches for Eddie being very bad and biting down on them.

He wants to live smothered in your love for him, the physical show all around him that you love him right now and are not leaving and he’s making you feel good in this moment, but also it’s you, encompassing him. Everything about you is safety and security and love for him. It’s another reason Eddie will absolutely bury his face in your boobies too </3

And when you finally let him indulge his oral fixation down there, three hours later - with breaks and water and checking in on you in between - his arms are wrapped around your thighs and he’s scooching forwards as you pull your legs, and therefore him, up the bed, with the biggest and ‘wettest’ pout on his face, begging you he just needs to be in there for a little more time. Please say you can go another round? He’s desperate. He’ll do anything baby, he just wants to worship you some more.

Eddie sometimes headbutts face first into your boobs and swears he will starve without tasting your pretty pussy. You’re more worried he’s going to fucking drown.

Eddie will happily get smothered to death though if it means drinking everything up. One of the only times you saw Eddie frown in bed (or anywhere you two were fucking) was when you were sitting on his face, and kept pulling back because you were worried you would hurt him. Eddie was stubbornly telling you that he could take it, you were fine, and you were wrong; and you swear he was going to use your body as an unwilling weapon to kill himself, because he was pulling you back down on his face so determinedly, you weren’t sure you could move from his grip pulling you down if you even wanted - you definitely did not want. Not when it was Eddie fucking Munson whose face you were riding.

Another excellent point in his favour, Eddie is wild. Very passionate. Extremely intuitive and very well versed/knowledgable. So he’s a god at eating out.

Changes up nearly every single time because he knows how to go with the flow and read you so well. It’s not just experience or anything Eddie is very well tuned to what you like and don’t, and he can pick up on you easily. Eating out just comes so so naturally to him it’s insane. And the fact he just goes ballistic down on you, absolutely feral for you, makes things even more sensational. He’ll eat you out in every which way possible. Staring up at you with those big fucking dark brown eyes. Those pretty thick lips glistening and swollen.

And when looking into his deep doe eyes is what makes you finally cum over his tongue, Eddie is chuckling breathily in that sweet voice into your cunt, and you’re cumming harder. The noises he makes too, little hums he doesn’t even know he’s sounding, he’s just enjoying himself that much, the sloppy eager sounds as he laps and sucks and kisses and eats at you, and then the fucking moans and swears and whines and groans and whimpers, and all the sweet suave words he tells you each time. When they’re sounded while his mouth is around you, the vibrations make you go crazy, something Eddie absolutely knows.

One time he winked to you after his laugh into your crotch made your eyes roll into your skull, and when he sweetly batted his eyelashes into your sensitive nipped thighs, just to make you feel even more, he really got his hair knotted into, and tugged further into your ‘embrace’.

Eddie will use any part of his face, ride his nose, or he’ll nuzzle it, tickling your thighs or belly with his eyelashes, scraping his teeth down them, using his lips to kiss and suck and mouth and vibrate on you, not to mention whatever ungodly power was given to Eddie’s tongue. Holy fuck Eddie’s tongue must have been blessed or something. His whole face is rubbing against you, he’s utilising it all, and Eddie wants his face covered in your cum, to the point it’s streaming down his neck and dripping onto his chest tattoo <3

And he’ll leave sessions having not had you take care of him once, all he wanted to do was go down on you. Get that taste, and make you feel so good. It makes him feel good too, even if not in that way, it just really does. Sometimes eating you out for a while is really all Eddie wants. Either for as long as he can get, or even a quick session before one of you has to go. He once joked that even with his life, it was the only addiction he has. Although you swear you watch him go through withdrawal. You’d say kinda regularly actually, but you two are going at it enough it doesn’t get to be too much of a problem <3.

It surprised you a little when you first dated him, that sometimes Eddie would ask you if you two could do that, and then that’s all that’d happen, unless you initiated further. When Eddie said that that shouldn’t be surprising, goddamn he did make you fall for him even more. You tell him he has a blessed tongue in many ways, although Eddie is very aware of that.

Sometimes sure he’ll rub one or multiple out under you, or buck against his mattress as he does so. One time even using your leg, because you were stood at the bathroom sink and he just had to have a taste of you before he could sleep. Trust me, eating you out is well more than enough to get Eddie Munson off. Sometimes all Eddie is focused on is pussy and he’s absolutely enjoying himself extremely, being touched himself or not. After all, he is getting to do one of his favourite all time things with you.

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fayes-fics · 4 months

Text

A Welcome Intrusion

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: A drunken Bridgerton in the wrong room could be the start of something...

Warnings: none really... flirtatious drunken fluff, meet-cute.

Word Count: 1.3k

Authors Note: This idea has been lingering in my "wtf is this" pile of scenes I sometimes scribble down idly. I decided to add a little polish and make it a little one-shot, as I could not see it having a natural home in my other WIPs. I also have vague plans to do the same scene setup with Anthony as a character study of how their reactions would differ. Unbetaed. I hope you enjoy <3

You are sleeping fitfully - a stifling summer night makes even a thin cotton sheet too much to bear on your overheated skin - when your bedroom is rudely invaded.

In your half-awake, bleary state, you are not even certain someone is in the room at first, your back being turned to the door. Indeed, it’s only when the mattress dips that you truly startle. You freeze, facing away, completely uncertain what to do with a stranger perched on the edge of your bed.

Behind you, you hear someone undressing haphazardly, Clothing hitting the rug in soft whumps. Bile rises in your throat when the effort-filled grunt while doing so is decidedly male.

There is a triumphant noise, and then a body flops back onto the mattress with a self-satisfied chuckle. After a few beats, all is still, and you steel yourself to speak.

“Kind sir,” you murmur, not daring to move, clinging to the far side, “please leave my room.”

There is a decidedly undignified squeal of shock, more akin to a young girl, him flipping over onto all fours next to you, the movement causing you to turn over in equal surprise.

You both stare at each other as if burned; you clutch the bedding high around your neck as he pants lightly, recovering from the apparent scare you gave him, his breath carrying the rich aroma of expensive brandy. In the shaft of moonlight leaking through the curtains, you see the curve of his cheekbone, the sharp line of his jaw. Whoever he is, he is very pretty. Very drunk, yes. But very pretty, too.

“What in god’s name are you doing in my bed?” he demands, sounding alarmed but mildly slurred with intoxication.

“You are in my bed!” you squeak back, knuckles tightening around the sheet you hold, even as your traitorous eyes roam lower, entirely without meaning to. A slice of lithe, freckled chest muscle flexing over ribs as he draws heavy breaths makes something deep inside you quake. You quickly dart your eyes back up to his face.

“I think not! This has been my bedroom since I was three years old!” he attests with the blithe certainty alcohol provides.

Oh, so he must be a Bridgerton. That is perhaps an easy guess, seeing as you are staying at Aubrey Hall ahead of tomorrow’s midsummer Hearts and Flowers Ball.

“I don’t think they would assign a family bedroom to a guest,” you answer with a flare of sass.

“Yes, I quite agree. That’s why you should not be here,” he huffs indignantly.

“I was shown here by the head housemaid. That is my trunk there, the footmen brought in,” you point out, gesturing across the room.

He seems to ignore your argument but suddenly swings around almost violently, looking at the room.

“I don’t have that on my wall,” he frowns at a sizeable floral painting over a dresser.

“Maybe because this isn’t actually your bedroom?” you volley back with uncharacteristic brashness, likely a reaction to his presence affecting you the longer he remains.

He whips back and narrows his eyes at you. “Did Anthony put you up to this? Or Colin? Change my room around and hide you in my bed to fool me? Are you some doxy?”

“How dare you, sir!!” you blanche, horrified at his coarse language and that he could think you are any sort of woman of such low morals.

“My sincerest apologies,” he immediately looks thoroughly contrite. “You do appear far too well-bred to be such. But it still does not explain your presence in my room.”

“No, it does not,” you answer through gritted teeth, annoyance flaring at his continued erroneous insistence. “And that is because this is not your room…. dunderhead!”

The ferocity with which you spit the last word has his face morphing into one of befuddled incredulity, a single eyebrow arching.

“Sorry, that was impertinent of me,” you flush, dropping your gaze ashamed.

No!” he rushes out, “I… I liked it,” the confession apparently takes him by surprise as much as it does you, judging by his confused frown at his own words.

But then he seems to shrug and nod decisively as if agreeing with himself before he looks back to you, shifting so the light colour of his eyes catches the moonbeam.

“Who are you?” he inquires, cocking his head to the side.

“Miss y/l/n,” you respond.

“I’m Benedict…”

“...BrIdgerton,” you finish for him. “I assume, based on the fact you have a childhood bedroom here.”

He laughs; a rich, resonant sound that makes your insides jolt.

“Indeed,” he smiles, the ivory of his teeth catching the light. Again, you are drawn to how pretty he seems to be. “I am… quite intoxicated, Miss y/l/n”, he confesses, clutching a hand to his chest as if holding a doffed cap, “‘tis entirely possible I am indeed not in the correct bedroom.”

“I would venture that to be the correct assessment,” you offer with a meek smile.

“I sincerely apologise, yet again,” his face contrite as he shuffles into a kneeling position, his palms resting upturned on his thighs as if seeking forgiveness.

The problem is all your eyes can do is slide down his bare torso, lingering in places they shouldn’t—like the swell of his pectorals, the dip of his waist, and the pull of material at the junction of his thighs just a few inches above where his palms rest….

“I suppose it is only fair I let you look, seeing as I so rudely interrupted your sleep,” he comments dryly.

Your eyes jerk back to his face, met with a pointedly raised eyebrow and a knowing crooked smirk. You feel your cheeks aflame and bow your head, biting your lip, knowing you have been thoroughly caught in your ogling.

“I… I apologise, sir,” you mumble quietly, “I… I have not seen a man without a shirt before…” you admit in a whisper.

“And do you like what you see?” he teases, tone etched with beguiling menace, his mouth twisted into an intrigued pout as you dare to raise your gaze again.

“I… I…,” you falter, knowing that admitting such would be scandalous.

“Your secret is safe with me, Miss y/l/n,” he winks, “and I hope I am forgiven.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” you bustle out, tugging the bedding high under your chin again, wanting desperately to conceal the flush you know is creeping over your skin with every second spent in his half-naked presence.

“I suppose I should take my leave,” he sighs, his cadence reluctant, perhaps hoping you will dispute his assessment.

“That would be… the most prudent course of action,” you nod even though your fingertips itch to grab his hand and ask him to stay for reasons you don’t entirely understand.

He slides off the bed and scoops up his discarded shirt, a moderately unsteady gait as he tugs it back onto his body.

“Goodnight, Miss y/l/n,” he bows with a touch of comedic chivalry before he takes his leave. You cannot help but stare at his shapely rear as he walks towards the door.

“Goodnight, Mr Bridgerton,” you call softly, and before you can stop yourself, more words are spilling from your lips, something about this man making you daring. “I do so hope you will offer me a dance at the ball tomorrow to make amends for this intrusion.”

Even you are astounded by your words. Benedict pauses, his hand frozen on the door handle as he turns back around slowly, his mien surprised.

“It would be my pleasure,” he rumbles after a pause, a tingle running through your being.

“Until tomorrow, Mr Bridgerton,” you offer, heart pounding.

“Until tomorrow indeed, Miss y/l/n,” the velvet of his voice tickling your skin long after the door snicks closed behind him.

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stardust-kenobi · 4 months

Text

Borrowed Potion

Remus Lupin x F!Reader x Sirius Black

Summary: After a long day, Remus suggests using the veritaserum he borrowed from Severus in a game of truth or dare with you and Sirius. You aren't able to hide your feelings any longer after just a few drops of the potion.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: SMUT, piv sex, mfm threesome, fingering, oral, drinking, tipsy sex, friends to lovers, platonic wolfstar

A/N: I’m a golden trio era gal for Sirius and Remus (older men are my weakness) but details are left vague enough to be read as mauraders era if that’s ur cup o’tea (no mention of age, etc). Also this is Remus x F!Reader x Sirius but no Wolfstar (sorry). Enjoy!

P.S -- happy holidays! <3

Read on AO3

You’d barged into Sirius’ apartment like you owned the place. Remus sat in the living room, his eyes locked onto you the moment the door swung open, seemingly startled but happy to see you. Sirius was leaning against the kitchen counter, a pleased smirk plastered on his face at the sight of you.

“It’s been an awful fucking day” you groaned, a frown falling upon your lips, heading straight to the fridge to grab a drink.

“Hello to you, too” Sirius raised his brows at your sudden entrance. Despite his apparent tone, he was amused, not annoyed.

“Sorry…thanks for the spare key. Normally you know I would’ve called ahead but I just came straight here from work” You countered.

“It’s no trouble, darling. That’s why I gave you the key in the first place” Sirius approached you, setting down his drink and wrapping you into a friendly hug, “I’ll make you a drink, what would you like?”

Sirius smelled of oak and musk, which you held on to as you pulled apart from the embrace.

“Surprise me” you smiled back to him, “Hi, Remus” You smirked shyly, turning to look at his sweet face.

“Hello, Y/N” He began, offering a warm smile, “y’alright?”

“I’m fine. Just need to decompress” You sigh, slumping into the couch cushion beside him. It felt normal and right as you rested your head against his shoulder. His scent differed from Sirius. It was masculine, still, but with hints of sandalwood and linen, you admired the aroma with your head buried in his sweater.

Sirius came to the couch, handing you a glass filled with a strong drink. As you grabbed the glass, Sirius' reassuring smile made you feel warm and fuzzy.

Remus and Sirius were your dearest and closest friends and you loved them so much. But although the friendly nature of your relationship was clear, you couldn’t help but become mesmerized over their good looks any time you were near them. The way they took care of you and the way they talked to you would make any woman buckle at the knees.

You told yourself they probably didn’t feel the same way about you, although this was more of a delusion than anything, considering you frequently noticed their wandering eyes. You couldn’t deny that when you’re alone at night and your wandering fingers find their way to your clit, it’s Remus and Sirius you thought about. It’s the fantasy of them fucking you senseless that dances in your head even right at this moment as you rest next to Remus.

They’d never actually touched you or even made a move on you before, though. They took you in when you became friends many months ago, during a low point in your life, and took care of you. They always took such great care of you.

“So what we were you guys up to before I barged in?” You pondered, shaking the image from your head.

“Just a few drinks, nothing interesting” Remus shrugged while holding his attention to you for a few seconds longer than he should have.

You sulked a bit, which Sirius took note of.

“What the matter?” He pondered, his furrowed brows indicating his attempt to read you.

“Can we do something fun?” You asked insistently.

“Like what?” Sirius responded curiously.

“Dunno…Anything” You shrugged your shoulders in almost a juvenile way.

“I’ve got an idea” Remus smirked.

Remus pulled a small dark green vial from his coat pocket that held a clear liquid. There were maybe only a few drops that lingered in the bottom of the container.

“And what might that be, Remus?” You cocked your head when you asked, a curious little grin creeping onto your face.

“This little number…” Remus paused as he handed it to you, “is veritaserum. Courtesy of Severus Snape”

You gasped and snatched the vial of truth-telling liquid from Remus.

“No way he gave this to you” You shook your head in disbelief.

“I may have borrowed it without his knowledge” He chuckled.

“Oh sure, you ‘borrowed’ it” You teased, nudging him with your arm playfully.

“Well, he was likely trying to discard it, but I found it and…you only need a few drops for someone to start spilling their secrets” He reminded you. “So, how about a good old-fashioned round of truth or dare?” Remus suggested with a heavy emphasis on the 'truth' part.

“But you just said there’s only enough serum for like...one person” You realized, frowning a bit.

“Well, you wanted to do something fun. How about you drink it?” Sirius suggested, "besides..that small amount won't last long anyways, so, what have you got to lose?"

You bit your lip, knowing the consequences of what could happen. You were practically in love with both men, and it was bound to come out if you were under the effects of the veritaserum.

You didn’t let yourself think about it much longer before throwing it back and letting the spare drops trickle down your throat. Perhaps this would be a...good opportunity.

It was instant. Such an overwhelming urge came over you to tell them things you wouldn’t dare think of sharing before. Thankfully, you were able to hold it back by slapping a hand to your mouth. It felt like being drunk, but the effects lived solely in your mind, leaving your body sober.

Sirius threw back his drink carelessly, and Remus followed suit. You looked at their empty glasses and decided you better catch up. If you’re going to spill your soul, you might as well be actually tipsy. The liquor burned down the sides of your throat, as you swallowed quickly and covering your mouth once more.

“This should be fun” Sirius chuckled as he leaned back in the couch on the opposite end of the room.

“Alright darling, truth or dare?” Remus began.

“Truth” You quickly blurted before returning your hand to your mouth to control your potential outbursts.

“Tell us one thing you’ve never told anyone else”

“Mm hm mm hmm” you mumbled through your hand. Oh god, you thought. The words you tried to push out were shocking.

“Without your hand” Remus laughed, pulling your hand from your lips. His fingertips were delicate against the skin of your palm.

“I touch myself thinking about both of you” You blurted quickly. Your cheeks burned cherry red.

You could’ve heard a pin drop with the silence that followed.

“That was not what I was expecting to hear” Sirius began sadistically chuckling, his gaze dancing between you and Remus.

"Oh my god I cannot believe I just said that" You gasped. "This is so not fair" You scoffed playfully and threw your head back.

Things were going just as it always went when the three of you drank. Veritaserum or not, a little bit of alcohol in your system and you always talked about sex. And lots of it. It always created such indescribable tension between all three of you, and you had to admit, it lit a fire in you.

Usually you'd exchange stories of your sexual experiences, and you couldn't help but notice they were always overly-eager to hear about yours.

"Do tell us more, dear. We would love to hear it" Remus's cheeks grew red as he looked over to you curiously. Although he sat beside you, his figure felt as though it towered over you.

"I fantasize about it...a lot" You continued, swallowing your nerves. It felt like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders, even considering how embarrassed you were.

“Well…Pads…that is interesting isn’t it?”

“Certainly is” Sirius, being the sly man that he is, cared very little to dance around his desires any longer, “Have you ever had a threesome?” He smirked, sipping his refilled whisky once more.

“No, but I'd love for you to both fuck me at the same time” You expressed casually, as if this was normal conversation to be had with your friends.

Your eyes grew wider and you blushed, reacting to your own words as if someone else had spoken them. But no, it was just you and your deepest desires coming to light.

You barely hid your devious smile as it disappeared behind the cover of your hand once more. The only threesome you’d ever wanted was with the two men staring at you like you were their next meal.

Sirius and Remus exchanged a wordless message to one another, using the subtlety of nods and raised brows to understand what they were going to do next.

Remus gently rested his palm on your knee before leaning over to plant a soft kiss upon your neck. You breathed out delicately into a small moan. You locked eyes with Sirius across the room, who devoured you with his gaze while he shifted in his seat on the sofa.

Remus worked away at trailing kisses up your jaw and onto your open lips. You moaned softly into him as you brought your hands up to his face, pulling him into you.

The small amount of liquor you drank danced in your veins, making you warm and fuzzy with desire. That mixed with the serum to give you the confidence you needed to act on your fantasies, now that you were given the opportunity.

You allowed Remus to explore you with his hands, which first landed from your collarbones down to your breasts. He was gentle, at first, before giving them a firm squeeze. His lips left yours, inching down your neck once more. Remus' hands found the bottom hem of your top. You eagerly assisted, letting him pull it above your head.

Sirius had remained quiet until that moment. You could hear the deep breath that he sucked in with the view of your bra that came into view. It was evident that he was dying to get his hands on you, but took just as much pleasure in watching Remus get you hot and bothered only a few feet away from him.

"Is this what you want, Y/N?" Sirius purred, watching as Remus laid you down on the couch before hovering above you. You snapped your attention to him, catching sight of his devious smirk.

"More than anything" You whimpered.

Kisses continued to be planted across your bare skin. As Remus hovered above you, you could feel the bulge that pressed firmly against the cloth of his pants brushing against your leg. You moved your leg to rub against it. Remus's brows furrowed in response as he looked deep into your eyes. His hand quickly found its way between your legs, applying pressure to your aching nerves.

God…Oh, god how did you end up here? Only moments ago you were casually spending time with your best friends, and now here you were...your mind in a daze of ecstasy and excitement.

Sirius stood to his feet, slowly walking over to the other sofa where you lay. Remus looked up at him and nodded, as if they had some sort of way to communicate telepathically. Sirius knelt beside you, caressing your face.

"Let's move this to the bedroom, yeah?" Sirius suggested, lifting you into his arms as all three of you moved into the next room.

After he placed you in the middle of the bed, Remus removed your pants. Your matching bra and panties came in handy today. The black lace accentuated every curve just perfectly, making their mouths water at the sight.

“Oh my darling, look at you” Remus’ voice trembled despite his best efforts to compose himself in the moment. They both hovered over you on their knees. It was deliciously overwhelming.

“Such a pretty little thing aren’t you?” Sirius smirked before gritting his teeth, his frustration building so much inside him.

“P-please” You whimpered pathetically.

“What is it? Tell us what you want” Remus teased at a whisper, pressing his lips dangerously close to your ear. Chills shot down your body. He began rubbing you again through the fabric of your panties.

“Both of you” You muttered, your body involuntarily rolling against the gentle touch of their fingertips exploring every inch of your skin.

Sirius and Remus didn’t anticipate the night ending like this. It all happened so fast. They’d wanted you so badly, for so long. All it took was a few drops of veritaserum and a dangerous game of truth or dare to put you in their grasp.

Only in your dreams had you seen this. Both of them hungry for you and only you. Their full attention all on you.

Thank Merlin for liquor and a careless Professor Snape, you thought. The liquid courage you knew you needed to finally act on your urges was aiding your actions and your every thought. You were sober enough to make your decision, but just enough careless to not hold back. The fuzziness that made your mind float felt so right.

So here you were, being ravaged by the hands and mouths of the most breath-taking men as they worshiped your still partially-clothed body.

“Hold her, Moony” Sirius instructed.

You were at their mercy. Whatever they decided to do with you was their call. You’d let them do whatever they wanted. Anything.

Remus shifted himself beneath you, laying against the headboard, holding you with your back pressed into his chest. The bed in Sirius’s flat was soft and inviting.

Sirius moved to the edge of the bed, bringing his mouth to your aching heat.

“Let’s get these out of the way, yeah?” He pulled at the delicate fabric, moving your panties to the side, instead of removing them, “they just look so good on you, baby”.

The cool air blew over the wetness already glistened on your pussy. Sirius groaned lowly with hunger for what was laid out in front of him.

A strangled whimper fell from your lips as Sirius pressed his tongue against your throbbing clit. Remus began kissing at your ear before trailing pecks down the side of your neck. You’d never been so turned on. This sort of attention was like nothing you’d ever experienced.

Remus hands worked to pull down your bra gently, revealing your breasts.

“You are so perfect” Remus whispered to you admirably. You looked back to him and pressed your lips upon his, shooting sparks between you two. Moans slipped into Remus’ mouth as Sirius inserted two fingers inside of you to heighten your pleasure.

“Is he making you feel good, love?” Remus purred in your ear as you pulled away from his lips to watch Sirius. His tongue worked fervently at your clit.

“Uh-huh” you desperately breathed.

“You’ve got to taste her, she’s a dream” Sirius groaned as his face revealed your slickness coating his mouth.

Remus reached from behind you, bringing his delicate fingers to your wet and swollen bud. He rubbed you gently and you curled your hips up into his touch.

He quickly pulled it away, bringing his fingers to his mouth, tasting your arousal.

“You do taste sweet” he praised, placing his finger in your own mouth to allow you to taste yourself, “here”.

“Shall you do the honors, Moony?” Sirius nodded, moving himself off the bed for a moment.

“Ready for me to fuck you, darling?” Remus whispered softly, pulling your hair away from your neck to plant gentle pecks along your shoulder.

You nodded in approval. They both worked quickly and eagerly to remove their clothes. You unhooked and removed your bra, freeing your breasts. At the same time, Remus pulled your panties off your body and swapped places with Sirius, positioning himself between your legs. Sirius rested on his knees next to your face on the bed.

Sirius stroked himself softly while he watched Remus line himself up with your entrance.

"You okay?" Remus asked, his gentle smile warming your heart as he checked on you before he pressed the tip of his cock right between your legs.

"Yes...please fuck me" You begged him desperately, earning even more of a precious grin on his expression.

"You sound so sweet when you beg, darling" Sirius purred, hooking his finger beneath your chin to bring your lips to his. He devoured you, slipping his tongue over your lips. Your brought your hand to wrap firmly around his cock, replacing his own hand.

Just then, an overwhelming sensation of fullness came over you as Remus buried himself fully inside you. You gasped, breaking away from Sirius' lips.

"Fuck" You whined. Watching where your bodies connected so beautifully. His lustful expression made it appear as though he was in heaven, holding himself fully sheathed inside you.

Sirius pulled your face to look back at him while Remus began thrusting steadily.

"Look at me while he fucks you, baby" Sirius insisted, whimpering softly while you stroked him.

"You take me so well" Remus moaned between each passionate thrust.

You wrapped your lips around Sirius' cock, lowering all the way down and taking him completely. Tears welled in your eyes as his length pressed the back of your throat.

"Ah, fuck, baby, that's it" He praised while gripping the back of your head. Before you could pull back, Sirius began fucking your face.

The way they handled your body as you were fucked from both ends showed the built up tension they were unleashing upon you.

As Remus fucked you hard, his hips slapping firmly against yours, Sirius cupped one of your breasts into his hand, gently caressing your nipple. The other hand traveled slowly down to your aching clit that begged to be touched again.

The curling of Remus' hips brushed your most sensitive spot. Along with the motions on your clit pushed you near the edge.

The tightening coil in your lower belly was begging to burst open, and with just two more glides of Remus' thrusts, it washed over you so suddenly. You moaned loudly, pulling off of Sirius to properly breathe as your body was overtaken by euphoria.

"Oh my god" You cried out, feeling your shaking legs tremble beneath Remus. He slowed to allow you a moment to catch your breath.

"You're making me jealous, Moony. I think its my turn, yeah?" Sirius teased.

"You gonna let Pads have your pussy, too?" Remus smirked, gently pulling his length from you. You whimpered at the sudden emptiness and nodded your head, "You dirty girl" he teased.

Sirius motioned for you to turn around. You obeyed, getting on your hands and knees and arching your back for his ease of access. You needed to be filled again...you needed it so desperately.

He wasted no time as he quickly got behind you, slamming his full length into your aching cunt. You choked on your moan, feeling so wonderfully overwhelmed by it.

"Oh, Y/N" Sirius breathed out, letting the euphoric feeling of being inside you overcome him.

Remus allowed you to adjust to Sirius before placing the tip of his cock, still wet with your arousal, on your swollen lips.

"If your mouth is even half as good as your cunt, I won't last much longer darling" Remus said softly before you took him entirely onto your tongue.

"Yeah, that's our good girl...letting us fuck you like this" Sirius praised you as his thrusts became brutal and quick. You could tell from their sounds of pleasure the motion of their hips that they were both close to their release.

"You both fuck me so good" You whimpered pathetically, taking a breath and pulling away from Remus.

"Your ours. All ours" Sirius groaned, his tone was possessive and rough.

Sirius was ruthless the pacing of his thrusts. He fucked you like he missed you. Like he'd waited forever to feel you.

"Suck my cock, darling" Remus instructed, guiding your mouth back to his length, "Yes, that's it" He threw his head back, enamored with the pleasure you brought him.

Remus and Sirius were in a continuous state of euphoria. Neither of them thought they'd ever have you like this. They'd dreamed of it, but never thought it would ever be real.

They both found perfect rhythm, fucking your pussy and your mouth at the same pace.

"Come for him, Y/N...come on his cock like you did for me" Remus encouraged you.

"I can feel her, she's close" Sirius gripped your hips, using them as leverage to deepen the swing of his hips, causing your ass to slap against his thighs repeatedly.

It was all too much, in the best possible way. Their praises did so much to push you over the edge.

As your second release built within you, your body grew tense, which they both noticed. It tightened up inside you, threatening to let loose any second. All it took was one final thrust from both ends to unravel the tension.

Your orgasm overtook every fiber of your being, radiating further than your first. A mess of profanities and whimpering filled the room as stars danced in your eyes.

"Good girl" Sirius praised you, slowing his thrusts while he allowed you to ride through your high.

Both men must've exchanged an unspoken message to one another once again, because they both pulled their lengths from you at the same time, leaving you terribly empty. You whined in disappointment.

"Lay down" Remus instructed. You did as he asked, laying down on your back. They both sat back and stared you down.

"You said you touch yourself thinking about us" Sirius began, "Show us…show us how you do it"

Your heart began beating even faster. How erotic it felt to pleasure yourself while they watched. They stoked themselves, admiring you so carefully.

You smirked, parting your legs and bringing your fingers in between your trembling thighs.

Slowly, you rubbed circles on your clit, hesitating at first to look them in their eyes. Even though they'd just fucked you senseless, something felt so much more intimate about this and you felt almost...nervous, but...you loved it. Their moaning indicated their edging nearer the release they craved.

You rubbed yourself faster now, finally finding the confidence to look them in the eyes, shooting your gaze back and forth between them. They looked at you as if you were the only woman in the whole world. You wondered how many times this very fantasy had danced through their imaginations. Finally having the opportunity to admire their impressive sizes, you were so turned on by the way they pleasured themselves while enjoying the sight of you.

"That's our girl...keep going" Remus begged.

You shut your eyes and threw your head back, feeling your third orgasm approaching quickly.

“Oh yes, just like that” Sirius encouraged you, enamored with the way you worked your fingers on your clit and bucked into your own touch.

Once again, that familiar tingling made itself known at your core. Your whimpering moans grew louder as you picked up the pace and focused on your pleasure.

"Gonna c- fuck...gonna come on you baby" Sirius growled.

You spilled over the edge, letting your orgasm pulse through your veins and overtake you. Just then, as your pleasurable cries fell from your lips, both Remus and Sirius' motions faltered in their weakness as they came on you, their release coating your tits and stomach.

"Fuuuuck" Remus cried out, followed by Sirius' intense moans of approval as you all three came together. It was the most erotic experience you'd ever felt

You chest rose and fell with your heavy breathing, trying to catch your breath as you floated down gracefully.

Sirius and Remus did the same, falling to either side of you on the bed. There were several moments of blissful silence, allowing you all come down in peace.

"Y'alright, Y/N?" Remus spoke softly, pulling a stray strand of hair from your cheek.

"Never ever been better" You chuckled.

Sirius grabbed a towel and wiped your body clean of their release before cuddling back up next to you and Remus.

"I do hope your bad day is a little bit better now, dear" Sirius teased.

"That was certainly long overdue wasn't it?" You sighed.

"Shall we thank Severus next time we see him?" Sirius proposed.

"I don't think that's a good idea" Remus laughed sweetly before you all three fell asleep together.

175 notes · View notes

chaithetics · 1 year

Text

Furtive Hands

Pairing: Stewy Hosseini x f (Roy) reader

Word count: 7.3K

Chapter/content warning: 18+ MINORS DNI, established/secret relationship, smut, fingering, P in V intercourse, some fluff, soft but also kind of dom-ish Stewy? Vague-ish mentions of canonical childhood abuse/trauma, and toxic family dynamics, Logan makes a cameo at the start (deserves its own warning), Logan's death and grief mentioned also Roman being a bit of a douche. I think that's it?

(Reader is technically a Roy because that's how the plot/idea worked but I avoided physical descriptions other than reader having AFAB physical characteristics. You're more than welcome to canon this reader as being adopted or half-siblings with the other Roys. I try to avoid giving physical characteristics and am tempted to continue to code all my readers as readers of colour out of spite due to the lack of intersectionality in fics. My reader in A Cinematic Lover has no physical characteristics other than being chronically ill but is Desi coded.)

Author's Note: I didn't proofread all of it, whoops. This is also my first time writing Stewy and I'm not too sure how I feel about this fic. I don't feel super confident in saying that "I captured his voice" etc. But I adore Stewy Hosseini and Arian Moayed and we need more Stewy fics. Please let me know your thoughts! I'd really appreciate the feedback :)

Like being in the Roy family, being the youngest in the clan had its perks and downfalls. You’d been able to get away most of your life with your father’s wrath directed towards your older siblings but at a certain point when they’d reached adulthood before you and it was quickly redirected towards you. You and your older brother Connor were the only ones to stay out of the family business, Connor was technically more involved than you which said a lot to anyone familiar with the family’s affairs.

Despite being the youngest it would be fair to say you were the most emotionally mature of your siblings (although you could easily admit that’s a very low bar) and the most well-adjusted (again, another relatively low bar). You were a practising clinical psychologist who had of course undergone a bunch of therapy yourself for your childhood trauma. You’d wrapped up a session and were walking a patient out before heading back into your office for your office lunch date when you were interrupted by a booming presence.

“Dad?” You immediately questioned. “What are you doing? You shouldn’t be here-”

“I thought I’d stop by. See the new office-”

“I’ve had this office for 3 years.” You interjected.

Logan quirked an eyebrow at that, he seemed almost amused at your assertive call out. You had been a louder child like Roman but unlike your brother, you became quieter as a teenager. You knew your father had assumed that was because you didn’t have whatever “deficiency” he believed Roman had and that you’d grown out of it. The reality was, that it was a trauma response and you’d learnt that life was easier with him if you were quiet and made your presence as sparse as possible.

He’d always found playing his games with you particularly interesting due to this, you weren’t as quiet now as you were as a teenager and you weren’t as loud as you were as a child, somewhere in the middle. You could slink off at the few family gatherings you intended to not be questioned or dragged into shop talk. But you still had a known presence and you were the only one of his children who could somewhat confidently cut him off and respond to him with what he’d deem as some sense of calmness. You weren’t as pliant to him as your siblings which made his mind games all the more intriguing to him.

“Right. Well, it’s a nice enough place.”

“Thanks.” You bit your lip as you waited for your father to continue, he didn’t show up for no reason.

You were trying to project a calm facade you were starting to worry for a myriad of reasons. With what was going on with your family this wouldn’t be any pure coincidence. You weren’t the most involved in the family business but you were well aware and received updates from Kendall. But there was also concern over the potential sighting of your lunchtime visitor.

“Well dear, I need you to do something for me.” You tilted your head and your brow furrowed at his words.

“Since when do you need favours? Specifically favours from clinical psychologists?” You questioned.

“It’s to do with your siblings.” Logan spoke flatly as he then sat himself down on one of the armchairs in your waiting room. He was mildly irritated that you hadn’t invited him into your office and that you’d kept that room off limits for him, blocking the doorway to it.

You scoffed at his words and rolled your eyes, one thing was for sure, whatever this was, it wasn’t good.

“Continue.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed at you slightly as he watched you as if it was the first time he was seeing you. He was used to you being uninterested and not the way that Shiv tried to play everything cool with Logan. You were genuinely uninterested, your eyes looked cold.

You had a colder approach with your father in comparison to your siblings, it was healthier and the easiest for you to maintain without being sucked in like they were. It wasn’t a big surprise to anyone that you weren’t impressed with the confrontations that happened in your presence, your siblings had weird concepts and responses of support. But there were the built-in responses as you’d gotten older, Kendall defended and you comforted.

Logan hadn’t always given you a great deal of attention in those moments but he was familiar with your mannerisms as he’d call them now. But today you seemed annoyed, this wasn’t an emotion that Logan felt like he’d seen from his youngest in almost a lifetime. He found it to almost be the most interesting he’d ever found you, he mused that you must know or be hiding something.

“Well, you grew up with Kendall, Roman and Siobhan. You understandably know them well and you have a unique skillset with your area of expertise.” He paused for a moment watching your face as he said that before continuing.

“And?”

“You would’ve made observations of their behaviours over the years. Symptoms-behaviours- whatever the fuck you want to call it. You have the power to diagnose.” You looked at him and the cooler facade you normally actively projected with him was starting to fade into one of horror. “I’d like you to write a piece on that, about your siblings. Their credibility, illnesses. A media circuit perhaps as well. You’re a credible and telling source.”

You stared at your father in silence, you didn’t know what to say to him. This was awful, even for him.

“So?” He broke the silence, his eyes were deadly serious, and his lips were in a small but twisted smirk.

“No. No! Just no…That’s absolutely fucked up. No.” You looked around starting to think about how messed up that your father hadn’t just come up with this idea but that he was willing to do it to his children, your older siblings and drag you into this. “No, and if I did that who would then get the chance to write the think piece on you?” You asked sardonically rubbing your brow.

“Well, I’m sure Shiv could whip up a sequel to her letter on Kendall.” He bit back almost nonchalantly.

“I shouldn’t be surprised but I just can’t get over the fact that you’d do this, that you’d ask me to do this dad. What you did to Kendall after that Board vote, was sick… And again? To all of them?” You were starting to feel nauseous and weaker around him.

“Are you talking to Kendall?” He asked in a cold tone.

“He’s my brother.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“And I’m your father.”

“Unfortunately.” You looked into his eyes and bit your cheek.

He scoffed at that. He’d come in relatively calm, well calm for him but he was quickly becoming agitated at your lack of cooperation.

“He’s a lousy excuse for a son and a brother.”

“Kendall doesn’t interrupt my day of work for a fucked up favour.” You spat out, you weren’t shying away from his gaze even though his presence was getting too much for you. “I think you should leave Dad. I have patients and I need to eat something, I need lunch.”

“Fine. Don’t give my regards to your fucking brother.” He said as he started to get up, you just leaned against the wall.

“Hey-” Stewy’s voice crackled against the thick tension between you and your father as he waltzed into the entryway of your waiting room. He paused for a second as his gaze quickly landed on your father and you. You thought you saw a brief flicker of panic in his eyes but he quickly and efficiently plastered over it.

“And what the fuck are you doing here?” Logan directed at Stewy with a huff and an eye roll. Logan’s concern and suspicion were piqued significantly now as his disappointed gaze flicked over to you.

“Well sir Roy, your deleterious business plans and board meetings are getting a bit too traumatic, that much I now need to see Dr Roy.” Stewy immediately and confidently jumped in, his playful and pointed lie came across smoothly and convincingly. Logan scoffed at that and started to walk out.

“Don’t think about trying any of your peacock philandering with my daughter,” Logan said to Stewy as he walked past him.

“How thoughtful, safe travels sir.” Stewy laughed off Logan’s comment which just seemed to irritate him more.

“Think about it.” Logan said as he looked back at you as he was in the doorway, you just held his gaze for a moment.

“I’ll see you at the wedding.” You calmly stated, he narrowed his eyes again at you for a second and then just walked off.

**********

Stewy wasn’t a patient of yours, he fortunately never had been, that would’ve been a massive ethical violation. He was meeting you at the office for lunch, something that you two often did. It had been vaguely discussed in the past that if somebody ever saw him in your office it could be easy to dismiss it as him being a patient or wanting some kind of psychological consultation relating to work. It was never an excuse that had been needed before today and you were surprised at how quickly Stewy went into that mode and how he simply sold it.

You were sitting on the sofa in your office with your legs in Stewy’s lap, he had an arm over the back of the sofa and his other hand was gently caressing your legs as you recounted the brief visit from your father before Stewy came. Stewy was playful and a bit chaotic but he was also intelligent and he could be serious and thoughtful, which he often was for you.

“I should call Kendall before something happens.” You said looking at Stewy and he nodded, continuing his comforting, soft touches on your sprawled-out legs.

You grabbed your phone and called Kendall, the phone barely rang before it was answered.

“Yo?”

“Dad came by the office earlier today.”

“Oh? What did the old fuck want?” Kendall teased.

“He asked me to write a piece on you, Rome and Shiv. To air out everyone’s laundry, basically ‘diagnose’ you all and try to discredit your side of what’s going on. It was so fucked up Ken.” There was a pause for a moment, you heard Kendall sigh and then inhale. You made eye contact with Stewy who was silent and watching you.

You had a requited soft spot for Kendall. He was your older brother and he was a good one at that. He was fiercely defensive of all his siblings, which he seemed to prioritise over his own trauma and feelings in confrontations with your father. But as the baby of the family and not having the same tongue as your siblings, you suppose you came across as weaker, more vulnerable. You’d concluded a long time ago that this added to the soft spot that Kendall has for you. You also thought subconsciously it was also linked to the fact that you were the most patient and sympathetic sibling he had.

“What did you say?” Kendall finally asked, his voice was more serious now.

“I said no, a bazillion times. I told him it was sick and asked him to leave.”

Ken nodded, and then he remembered that you couldn’t see that.

“That’s pretty fucked up. Not surprising though I guess…”

“Are you with Rome and Shiv?” You asked.

“Uh-huh, they’re in the uh, they’re inside.” Kendall answered quickly.

“Can you tell them?”

“Yeah, sure but-”

“I’m really sorry Ken but I have another patient soon, I just wanted to tell you as soon as I could in case something happened. I didn’t want to do it over text.” You answered.

“Okay, I’ll see you at the rehearsal. Thanks as well.” His second sentence was softer.

“Yeah, of course. See you then.” You then hung up and looked at Stewy.

“Did he sound okay to you?” You asked Stewy.

“Sounded pretty okay for Ken.” Stewy responded as he moved his hand away from your legs and to hold your now phone-free hand. You just nodded and Stewy changed the subject to something else for the rest of your lunch hour which you appreciated.

******

You would say you have a complicated but good relationship with your siblings. While you had the same mother as Kendall, Shiv, and Roman, you and Connor were bonded by your outcast status regarding family affairs. You didn’t agree with a lot of the opinions that left Connor’s mouth but he was still a compassionate older brother to you. You often were iced out together at family gatherings as it was all a business opportunity for your father’s attention.

You were glad that you just had to relay your father’s request to Kendall. Roman was unpredictable and Shiv would’ve assumed that you had sold them out and this was a mind game. An opinion she’d probably make clear to everyone else and in some way to you as well.

There had always been significant sibling rivalry in the Roy household. But Shiv had always seen you as her competition in particular, you two were the only women and she lived in a man’s world always striving to prove herself out of spite and nature. Even now she still believed your kinder nature was an act to disarm. She never hid the looks of distrust in her eyes.

You were now home. You still had your apartment and stayed there occasionally but that was more to save face than anything else. Somewhere along the timeline of your relationship, you’d almost practically moved into Stewy’s apartment. The walk-in wardrobe was equally divided, and your favourite teas were in the kitchen. “It’s closer to your office” had been the justification at the time when he’d been encouraging you to stay over more.

It was surprising that you hadn’t been caught yet with that in mind, part of you would sometimes wonder if your siblings did know but they were saving it but you knew that if they did it would’ve come out to slap you in the face by now.

When you’d first met Stewy what felt like a million years ago you never would’ve expected something like this to happen. Then when this all happened and started a few years ago it was still, very unexpected. But he knew probably better than what anyone else would ever be able to comprehend what it meant to get seriously involved with a Roy, even one not involved in the family business. He and Kendall had an interesting friendship and history, with Stewy having been mostly good to your brother. But Stewy was always good to you.

As you let yourself in you kicked off your shoes lost in your thoughts but you quickly noticed Stewy wasn’t back yet. This wasn’t a surprise though, your job meant you got to work more of a typical 9-5. Something you were grateful for, it seemed like life was just one, endless business meeting and opportunity for everyone involved at Waystar.

You’d made yourself a cup of tea and were now leaning against the bench in the kitchen with it while scrolling on your phone. You had Google alerts set for all of your immediate family and Stewy, surprisingly there didn’t seem to be too much drama online today.

“Ugh, fuck!” Stewy’s voice boomed and you heard a bang.

“Shit, Stewy? Are you okay?” You quickly called out as you made your way over to the apartment's entryway.

“Yeah, just tripped over your shoes again.” Stewy responded with an amused expression as he took his shoes off and moved them along with yours out of the way.

This wasn’t the first time it had happened and Stewy knew it wouldn’t be the last.

“I’m sorry.” You said bashfully as you walked over to hug him, pressing a soft, playful kiss to his lips. “I guess, it’s a good thing you love me.” You kissed him again, teasingly nipping on his bottom lip that was in between yours.

“You’re such a brat baby.” Stewy smirked as his hand wrapped more firmly around your waist and he kissed you back.

“I thought you loved that?” You teased between kisses as each one became more heated and desperate with lust. Despite Stewy often being caught or easily roped into your family drama he was the best distraction, escape and companion from everything.

“I do.” Stewy breathed out as he continued to kiss you and was now kissing your jaw.

“And I love you…” You whimpered out as his lips started to travel down your neck. He now had you pressed against the wall.

“And what is it that you love exactly baby?” Stewy purred out as he nibbled around your pulse point. He was always such a tease.

“I love your hair-” You moaned out as you dug your fingers into his soft, gorgeous curls that were always perfect. “Your voice, eyes, those goddamn turtlenecks, your smile, your colossal vocabulary-”

“Didn’t you say it was farcical the other day?” Stewy said as he stopped kissing you and looked at you.

“Stewy!” You whined out, you couldn’t feel his lips on you any more but you could still feel him against you but it wasn’t enough. You needed him. His gorgeous dark eyes were blown out with lust but he had his signature playful, mischievous smirk painted across his face as he cruelly teased you. “You’re such a tease.”

“I thought you loved that.” He quipped back. You rolled your eyes and took the bait.

“I do, I love how much of a tease you are.” He felt your breath against his neck as you spoke and then pressed a kiss against his neck, breathing him in. He always smelt so good, despite being a bit of a natural peacock it wasn’t showy, it was more subtle but strong enough. You were certain there was sandalwood in his cologne. “I also love how you feel inside of me.” You spoke as your soft lips kissed his handsome jaw, your soft lips a burning contrast against the tickle of his perfectly trimmed beard.

“Someone’s getting laid tonight.” Stewy got out, pressing his hips against you as you continued kissing along his jaw and neck, tugging his now tousled curls.

“That was the plan after all Mr. Hosseini.” You smirked against his neck, feeling him continue to harden against you. He let out a soft, melodic moan as you sucked softly on his neck.

“How does now sound?”

“Perfect.” You left his neck to kiss him on the lips, you moaned against his mouth as his teeth clashed against yours.

One of his hands left your waist to quickly unbutton your pants. Once he’d done that, he quickly slipped a hand in, teasing you as he palmed you and then started to tease your bundle of nerves over your underwear. Your arousal had already started to dampen your underwear and it only grew with his attention. You continued to moan against him, as he gingerly traced a pattern.

“You’re already so wet and I’ve barely touched you.” Stewy teased. “So beautiful and needy.”

Stewy smirked as he felt you press into his hand more, even with the friction of your underwear, you needed more. You wanted him then and there. You kept hungrily kissing him, feeling starved. Stewy snaked a finger under your underwear and rubbed it along your clitoris for a few seconds before dipping it inside of you making you gasp.

“More, please Stewy.” You begged between kisses, panting as he chuckled.

“Such a desperate girl with a needy pussy.” Stewy whispered into your ear as he added a second finger in, he picked up the pace a bit he continued to finger you and his thumb moved to rub over your clitoris a few times. His fingers were covered in your slick and you didn’t have any interest in holding back any of your moans.

You stayed sandwiched between the wall and Stewy, just moving to press your head against his shoulder, the fabric of his blazer muffled some of your moans as he continued to finger you. You looked down and started to undo his belt and pants.

“What do you think you're doing baby?” Stewy asked in a low voice that was just making the space in between your thighs grow into an even bigger pool of dampness, you were melting against him.

“I want you.” You tilted your head up so it was still resting against his shoulder but you were now facing his neck more, you started to kiss his neck again, biting it softly and then licking it. “I want you to fuck me Stewy.”

“Beg.” Stewy breathed out as he let out a little moan as your tongue darted over his pulse point. His fingers were still entering you but not as deep as before and his thumb was painfully slowly, languidly massaging your bundle of nerves.

“Please Stewy. Fuck me, I need to feel you deep inside of me.” You nipped him softly right near his pulse point and revelled in the groan he let out at that. “Please, I’m begging you Stewy. I need you.”

“Tell me exactly what you need.” His thumb cruelly left your clitoris for a moment making you gasp out in shock but he added a third finger inside of you, getting to that soft spot that made you melt and his thumb gently returned to your clitoris after a few seconds.

“I uh, I-I need you. I need you inside of me now Stewy. I need to feel your cock inside of me.” You moaned out. “Nobody has ever and could ever fill me up the way you do. It feels so good, you make me feel so good. Pl-please Stewy. Please.” You mewled out and you couldn’t quite see his face but you knew it would have that beautiful arrogant smirk.

“I’ll fuck you, baby. I just need you to come for me first, you can do that, right? I can tell your desperate little pussy is already so close.” You nodded desperately, he wasn’t wrong. You were close to unravelling, he could tell from your breathing and how you weren’t just flooding his fingers but also clamping around him.

“I’m so close, Stew, fuck.” You moaned out, panting against his neck, it tickled him slightly. You bit your lip and moaned against his neck, he could feel the vibration of it and he loved that, that and the sound of your pleasure. You could feel it coming and gasped into his neck again as you came, Stewy could feel it and smiled as his fingering eased to a slower, gentler pace as you came down from your orgasm.

“How was that?” He smirked as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“It was- it was…” You paused for a moment as your breathing started to settle, your heart was still pounding from that high though. “Good.”

“Good? Only good?” He questioned with a tone of mock hurt.

“Just shut up and fuck me now, please Stew.” You bit his neck, just feeling even more needy for him than you did before.

“I thought you liked my colossal vocabulary and voice?” He teased as he playfully grinded into you “I distinctly remember you saying so a few minutes ago.”

“You’re so mean Stewy.” You giggled softly, gently pulling on the roots of his curls.

“Was that just to get me into your pants?” Stewy paused the grinding, his tone acting as if he was hurt and that the insinuation was possibly true.

“I guess not because that obviously didn’t work very well.” You responded, leaning back against the wall. He raised an eyebrow at you and then looked down at his belt. You rolled your eyes playfully and started to undo his belt, palming him. He was completely hard but you already knew this from when he’d been grinding into you.

“Bedroom baby.” Stewy moaned out as you pulled his hard cock out and rubbed it with one hand.

“You can fuck me here, you’ve done it before.” You pouted and he just chuckled as you kept up with your ministrations.

“You said I was mean, so you’re not getting it here. You can wait the whole ten seconds it takes to walk to the bed. Our bed for me to have my way with you.” Stewy’s voice was low and firm but there was still that natural teasing tone there.

You walked briskly to the bedroom that you two shared and Stewy followed and chuckled over the eagerness of your gait. As soon as you both were in the clean room, you kissed him hungrily again. He smirked and expertly unbuttoned your blouse as you pushed his blazer off. You kicked your pants and underwear off and he quickly followed suit.

Stewy pressed you into the bed and you tugged on the turtleneck he was still wearing to bring him closer to you and then started to push it up off him.

“Do you love my turtleneck baby?” Stewy teased as you did.

“Absolutely love it.” You breathed out with a smirk.

As soon as it was off and thrown to the floor, you were kissing each other again as if you couldn’t survive without the other. You were running your hands over Stewy’s back and up his neck to the luscious locks you loved as he quickly undid your bra. You were both now naked and he continued to kiss you as his hands cupped your chest.

You moaned out as he started to caress you and pinch your nipples. His lips travelled from yours down to your jaw, your throat, he kissed your breasts and teasingly licked along your nipple for a minute as he started to rub your heat with his other hand.

“Please Stewy.” You begged out in a desperate moan as your eyes were closed in pleasure.

“Please, fuck you?” He again teases as he starts to line himself up at your entrance.

“Yes, please that.”

Stewy stopped his teasing and happily obliged after what felt like an eternity of almost edging. He pressed his head into you and you gasped as he did, gently scratching his shoulders as he did. It wasn’t long till he was bottomed out, he waited a few seconds for you to adjust before he started to slowly thrust inside of you, eliciting the most melodic moans he’d ever heard.

“You’re so beautiful and tight, I love being inside of you baby.” Stewy cooed out as his pace quickly picked up a deeper and slightly faster rhythm.

“You feel so good Stewy, so good inside of me.” You mewled out.

Your words were literal music to his ears and it wasn’t long till he was grunting out as his thrusts became deeper and harder.

It was so easy to become lost in Stewy. Especially when he was fucking you like this, having his way with you in the bed you shared. How couldn’t you be lost in him when your eyes were open he was all you could see?

His scent was dizzying as it mixed with the sweat he’d built up from snapping his hips into yours, he was all you could feel, on you and in you, his grunts, words and the filthy sounds you were making together were all you could hear. Stewy was intoxicating, overwhelming, a sensory overload in the most spectacular way.

You were pulling on his hair as you felt him hitting that perfect soft spot deep inside of you. Your bundle of nerves was already sensitive from the teasing and your earlier orgasm and you could feel the warmth of another orgasm building.

Stewy wasn’t clueless about this, he could feel you clenching around him especially as he reached that sensitive spot of yours and you were flooding him in your arousal. Other than the feeling of being buried deep inside of you, Stewy couldn’t think of anything sweeter than the noises of your moan and whimpers and the sounds of the squelches made of him thrusting into you and being met with your juices.

Stewy continued to pound into you, his thrusts were faster and needier, and he was getting close himself. He pressed some sloppy kisses to your neck that warmed your insides up even more with desire and love for him. Stewy’s lips travelled back to yours and you opened your mouth inviting him in as your tongues and teeth passionately attacked each other.

The kiss became deeper and deeper, you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist and felt him groan at that against your lips which in turn made you smirk. You two continued to kiss and he started to rub your clitoris with his thumb, you moaned into his mouth at the sweet pressure and slightly writhed under him.

“That feels so good Stew.” You panted out as the kiss broke for a second and you both panted as he continued to thrust into you while rubbing a circular pattern on your bundle of nerves getting closer to their peak.

“You feel so good. I love you.” He panted out between moans, as his eyes rolled back at the feeling of your velvety walls clenching around him.

“I love you too.” You moaned out, as your legs tightened slightly around him and you scratched his back. “I’m, so, so, so close.”

“Yeah? I can feel that baby. Oh fuck, I want you to come for me, come on my cock baby.” He encouraged as he continued. Kissing along your pulse point, fully knowing that would drive you closer to your climax.

You moaned out while scratching his back and pulling on his hair as you unravelled from your orgasm. Stewy smirked against your neck and continued to massage your sensitive bundle of nerves and thrust at the same, perfect speed as you chased your orgasm and rode out that high.

“Thank you, baby, that was so good. I want you to come, to fill me up.” You panted out as you placed a hand to cup his cheek as his hips continued to snap back into yours.

“Fuck, I’m pretty close.”

You dug your nails into his back as he felt you clench around him in the most spectacular way as you orgasmed and post that. He began to chase his own high and you knew he was close as his thrusts spread up and the pace was more sporadic than rhythmic.

After a couple more minutes of thrusts, Stewy grunted and kissed you more desperately than he had all day and finally chased his own climax and finished inside of you. Before he pulled out the kiss changed to a gentle, affectionate one and you lightly combed your hands through his hair and then ran them along his face and jaw as he kissed you like that.

Stewy kissed your forehead softly and then pulled out to go towards the ensuite to get a washcloth to clean up the mess you had made together. He was so firm but gentle with you.

After that, he laid in bed again on his back, you were cuddled into his side, with your head on his warm chest feeling almost half asleep.

“What do you think of marriage now?” Stewy asked interrupting the peaceful post-sex silence. There was an air of playfulness but his voice was softer, quieter, almost sleepy.

“Pardon?” You shifted slightly off his chest to get a better look at his face. You were certain you’d heard him correctly but you weren’t sure if maybe you’d fully given into sleep and this was gibberish or a dream.

“We’ve talked about eloping before.”

“Yeah, yes we have but-”

“I wasn’t joking.” Stewy said as he gently held your chin between his index finger and his thumb. His voice was still soft but it was a bit firmer now, more serious than tired or playful. You bit your lip unsure of what to say as he continued to look into your eyes with his beautiful, diluted ones.

“You know what that would entail Stewy. Your career-”

“I do and-”

“Stewy.” You rested your chin on his chest looking at him. He could see that you were tired.

“So you don’t want to marry me right before your brother and Willa? Maybe a day or two after? Get that IUD out, then pop out a few babies. I’ll even be super fucking generous and get a vasectomy.” His tone was more teasing now and you had a feeling the humour wasn’t completely genuine but partially a cover-up of possible hurt.

“Sweetie, I love you. Can we talk about this tomorrow? Maybe not talk about this ‘post-coitus’.” You offered him a small smile and combed your fingers through his hair, admiring the dark locks and the stunning strands of silver.

“Yes ma’am.” Stewy nodded and kissed your forehead. You settled back into his chest and it wasn’t long until you had dozed off in his arms and on the comfortable pillow of his chest with the reassuring sound of his heartbeat.

********

You’d been the only one of your siblings to stay for Connor’s wedding. Weddings were just business opportunities in the world of the Roys, grief couldn’t exist with the market and leadership decisions. You didn’t like how the wedding or death side of that traumatic day went down or how it was handled but unexpected deaths weren’t meant to be convenient or follow logic.

You were now in your deceased father’s penthouse at his wake, having spent most of the morning hiding in a corner from as many eyes as possible. You’d really only spoken to Connor and Willa, your other siblings were in a sitting room being as business-focused as possible.

It had been a little while into the Wake and you were with your siblings when Stewy and the Furnesses came in. Connor and Willa had been the easiest to talk to which wasn’t really anything new. Kendall and you occasionally made little remarks to each other and even you and Shiv exchanged some looks over other people’s comments or well, audacity.

You took Stewy’s handsome face in, he looked well-rested and fresh-eyed despite the fact that he’d been up most of the night with grieving you. He was handsomely dressed and groomed as always. You wanted to be held by him again, to leave and be curled up in a ball with him. Normally you two acted amicably when your paths crossed in the Roy world and public like this. But you were too depressed and exhausted for the usual furtive nature.

He’d hugged and given his condolences to your sister Shiv and then she’d moved on to Sandi. You looked at Stewy and gave him a small smile, he went to give you a hug and a faux kiss on the cheek as he did for Shiv but you needed more than that, you needed him. You genuinely hugged him and pressed your head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat, a firm, undeniable reminder that he was there was always comforting. You didn’t care that your siblings were nearby, it wasn’t an indecent act.

Stewy couldn’t and wouldn’t say no to affection from you ever, let alone in your state in this context. He reciprocated the genuine hug and you held onto him for maybe a few seconds longer than you should’ve if you wanted to avoid the suspicion of your siblings.

You pulled away despite never wanting to do and tilted your head to see that he was looking at you warmly, sympathy written all over his eyes. His hands had moved to softly rest on the sides of your arm, the touch was comforting but could easily be perceived and argued as platonic to an onlooker. He had a small, genuine smile on his face as he looked at you.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“Hey.” You responded back quietly. You wanted to kiss him, you were almost tempted to and then Kendall was quickly whisking Stewy away.

You went back to your corner and eventually, you were joined by Kendall and Roman. You saw that Stewy was making his rounds of small talk and his eyes occasionally wandering, searching for you to see where you were and how you were doing.

“Have you thought about psychoanalysing yourself?”

“What?” You questioned exhaustedly as your mind was pulled away from stealing glances at Stewy by Roman’s words.

“That was a bit too touchy with Ken-doll’s boyfriend.” Roman retorted. “I didn’t realise jumping on your brother’s BFF was one of the five stages of grief.”

“Excuse me?” You now glared at him.

“Oh, I guess it must be a new one they added in. Are you gonna get a model named after yourself? Or are you saving the Roy model for something more fucked up?”

“I’m not doing this Roman.” You sighed in exasperation and walked off to find a glass of wine but were quickly disturbed again.

“Don’t worry, he doesn’t actually know about you two,” Kendall smirked as he whispered to you.

“What the fuck Ken?” You jumped at the fright from Kendall, you were grateful that you were still empty-handed or else you’d have stained your outfit if not all of your surroundings from your brotherly jumpscare. Your reaction just made Kendall’s smirk grow. “You knew? But Stewy never told you.”

“He didn’t. I figured out a while ago that you two were uh…” He dramatically paused for a moment as if he was thinking of the right word with a teasing smirk. “Copulating.”

“Ken!” You elbowed him softly to try and get him to quieten down. “Why did you never say anything?” You quietly questioned.

“Well, it was pretty fucking weird at first. He’s not the worst Harvard finance bro out there.” Kendall said with a playful expression. “He keeps you happy-adjacent right?”

“Yeah, he does. Thank you.” You gave Kendall a tight-lipped but grateful smile.

“You know, you don’t have to hide it anymore right?”

You looked up at Kendall, questioning him with your eyes. You and Stewy’s relationship was complicated and you’d say it was pretty healthy despite the furtive nature, it had been that way for everyone’s personal and professional sake. Kendall’s smirk started to slowly slip as he took in your expression.

“He’s dead.” Kendall spoke softly as you stared into each other’s eyes, he placed his hand on your arm as his face grew more serious. You eyed Kendall trying to find the right words. Sure your father had been part of it but it was a complicated situation with many pieces.

“I could live with dad icing me out, cutting that relationship. I made peace with what that is a while ago. But-but, it’s when Roman, Shiv, and you. That’s what really hurts.”

“That’ll be all that Roman says and well Shiv, she’ll only say anything about it behind your back.”

“So comforting and reassuring.” You dryly said.

“I’ll send you the invoice for Kendall Roy’s Therapy.” He teased and you both chuckled dryly at that.

There wasn’t much else to say to that and you knew Kendall wasn’t ready to talk about the bigger problems yet so you gave your brother a tight hug that he quickly reciprocated. You stayed in each other’s arms for a few moments, it was healing and reassuring in a way.

You then left to sit on a miraculously empty couch as Kendall went off to talk to Roman and Shiv again about company matters you didn’t want to hear about and that they wouldn’t want to discuss in front of you or Connor anyway. As you sat there, Stewy caught your eyes again and this time he finally came over. He sat next to you on the sofa but left a reasonable, person-sized gap between the two of you.

“Kendall knows, you know.” You quietly state looking at him tiredly, the events of the last 24 hours and your lack of sleep were quickly catching up with you.

“Well, I’m in private equity not acting baby.” You scoff at that and smile, sinking a little further into the sofa.

“Perspicuously not in comedy either, babe.” You say with a smile that grows. You tilt your head to look at his expression, his big beautiful eyes are watching you and there’s the cocky smile plastered on his face that you’re in love with.

“I’ve learnt it’s best to save the wit for the Roys.” He shoots back with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

Stewy’s here and he’s being cheeky for your sake. You love that about him, his tongue isn’t biting like your siblings but his humour is a way of showing up.

“Do you want to go on the balcony for a minute?” You questioned. “I want some fresh air.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” He leaned his hand over that empty space of safety between you two to squeeze your hand for a second before you got up and he then followed you.

He leant against the railing and watched you once you were both out on the much more, pleasantly quiet balcony.

You laid your head against his chest and wrapped your arms around him, listening to his heart calmly beat as he pressed his chin against the top of your head and exhaled. Stewy’s thumb was tracing reassuring patterns on your arm. He hummed softly for a moment and you could feel the vibration of it on the top of your skull.

You and Stewy both knew this was a sure way to be caught but neither of you cared in this moment and didn’t care about any of the consequences. They were manageable, they felt minor now and realistically they were. This would shift the family dynamic and having furtive hands with your lover always seemed to you to be in the best interests of Stewy’s career and the dramas between him, Kendall and Waystar.

You were pretty okay with being out in the open with Stewy and he felt the same way. As the relationship went on, he wanted that more and more. His post-coitus conversation was serious and not a post-orgasm thought.

“You were serious about eloping before Connor’s wedding weren’t you?”

“Probably poor taste to say it right now but yes baby, dead serious.”

You laughed at that and he felt it vibrate against him and it made him smile. He just wanted to bring you a bit of comfort and joy on an awful day like today.

“I don’t think it’s a bad idea.”

“Are you saying you want to get eloped?”

“Well, I was thinking of leaking the story to ATN that Stewy Hosseini is so whipped by the Roys that he gets a vasectomy for one and not the one they’d expect.” You teased, laughing a bit more and he laughed as well.

“Well, as much as I think we could find you something short to wear as an elopement dress, maybe something fun and scandalous like Sharon Tate’s since you like those old flicks. I don’t think we should leave your dad’s wake to go off and elope, might be the cultural upbringing differences but seems a little rude to me.” Stewy teased, you laughed and kissed him on the lips softly for a moment.

“How does tomorrow sound?”

“For an elopement?” “Yeah.”

“Perfect.”

581 notes · View notes

angelicglib · 4 months

Text

‧₊✩ Christmas Comfort ✩₊‧

[ꜱɪᴍᴏɴ ʀɪʟᴇʏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

[ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ᴘᴏꜱᴛᴇᴅ]: 25/12/23 (REPOSTED: 28/12/23)

[ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ]: After Johnny's death and a failed mission, Simon returns home to his girlfriend.

[ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ]: 3,252

[ᴛᴡ]: hurt/comfort, angst, a somewhat happy ending (it will never be fully happy without soap I am sorry) possible mw3 spoilers (if you have been living under a rock please avoid)

[ᴀ/ɴ]: This is my first story here, please be kind I beg <3 also very sorry for this but I had the idea and thought it would be quite a bittersweet story for the holiday season !!

THIS IS A REPOST !! I've had few issues with shadowbans and have moved accounts a few times (tumblr thought I was a bot) so, if you would like more stories from me, my new blog is @manicrouge !!

─────────── ∘°❉°∘ ───────────

Christmas this year is going to be tough.

You know it from when you open the door to him on Christmas Eve.

Time has passed, he hasn’t been home for months and you were starting to convince yourself that it’s going to be years before you ever see him again.

When you were talking on the phone earlier, sometime during the middle of November, he had made a comment that he wasn’t going to come back home until he had made sure he had the pleasure of declaring that the enemy that had murdered his best friend was officially gone for good. While your chest tightened at his comment, you had nodded along and assured him that they would catch Makarov eventually; there were only so many places one man could hide before he’d revert back to familiar ground.

You feared the same for Simon at that moment. In fact, even with him home safe, you still do.

Of course, you would never say that to his face.

Despite his capability in combat, however, you often find yourself awake at night wondering just how capable he was when it came to processing and dealing with loss. Had he done what you assume he has done, he was most likely going to run from it instead of addressing it. Problems will build up and up until they came tumbling down. It’s a simple thought to construct during the late nights you have been spending alone since the news of what had happened to Johnny had found its way to you. Just as such a thought is easy to construct, you find that another one comes to you quicker than the former: where would Simon be when the building he’d constructed over the years fell to pieces?

There were only so many places he man could hide before he’d refer back to familiar ground. Even if said ground was crumbling around him. Maybe in his misery, he would find solace in falling to his doom with the chunks of shattered earth surrounding him.

If that assessment is wrong, it doesn't matter; your brain has decided it before your heart even gets a say.

You have very little to go off of concerning with how he dealt with loss, the occasional comment about his mum was enough for you to know that he wasn’t the type to completely forget about a loved one.

He's vague about his past. The less said about it the better.

‘You keep pawing an’ clawing at my brain like a damn puppy,’ he said, trailing his hands through your hair. You were guilty, for sure you were. Curiosity was sure to be the death of you in that regard. He’d let small facts slip on occasion, although, you knew his accidental slip ups were most definitely intention.

Of course, Simon Riley was no fool.

’Just tell me something,’ you begged, ‘like… I don’t know, what was your favourite food to eat at Christmas when you were younger? Ooo, I bet it was something like liquorice. You’d so make your nan pissed by robbing all the good shit out of the sweet tin.’ You laughed at the thought of a tiny Simon Riley climbing on top of a chair, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he attempted to snatch the sweet, sweet treat of liquorice.

‘Are you fuckin’ kidding me?’ he scoffed, ‘actin’ like I’m an old man doll,’ he snorted, ‘stop tryin’ to pester me f’r memories you have no business viewing.’

‘Is it illegal to be curious now?’ you asked with a playful smile. It was silent for a moment, and you lifted your head in an attempt to find his eyes in the darkness.

‘Yes, it is,’ he said, ‘you don’t wanna know me from the past, love,’ he huffed, ‘doesn’t matter now.’

‘You won’t even tell me what your favourite food was during Christmas?’

‘No,’ he reverted back to the same Simon you had seen when Johnny had been talking his ear off during the rare nights out you had had with 141. ’Now go t’ sleep, gonna be tired in the morning if you keep rambling on. My ears are burning with ya, doll,’ he teased, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you firmly against his chest.

Despite everything telling you to pull away from him, you maintained your closeness, the warmth of him far too appetising to refuse. Exhaling deeply, you rested your head against the pillow, staring straight at the wall in front of you. Your heart hurt at the very thought that he cared so little about his past that he fought to keep everything from his earlier life away from you. Even the smallest things. Of course, you would never had pried him, only the few passing comments in hopes for him to slip up as he had done a few times before.

Another hard sigh escaped you as you close your eyes. He shifted behind you, resting his head against your shoulder. You thought nothing of his sudden movement; it wasn’t uncommon for him to do so while you were sharing a bed together. Only, he turned his head, his breath ghosting your ear. Inhaling, he swallowed hard. ‘Mum used to make us roast dinners,’ he whispered, ‘used to always slap my hand away whenever she was cooking cause I used to always rob the pigs-in-blankets while she was still getting dinner ready.’

A small laugh passed your lips as you turned in his hold, placing your hand against his cheek with a cheeky grin. He stares back, blue gaze gutting through the darkness, slicing your soul to pieces. ‘Now, will y’ stop huffin’ and puffing and just go to sleep?’ He asked, placing his hand over yours.

‘Soundly, Lt.’

Even behind the mask, you could sense the sadness, the loss. A flurry of emotions hits you when you first see him after what has happened. What can you say to him? Anything other than I’m sorry seems to be an insult to him and to the memory of the man that is sure to haunt him.

The mask hides his face, but it never hid his eyes, his tired and war-weary eyes. It's a brutal sight to see the man who had put the fear of God through you when you had first met reduced to this crushed soul.

‘Simon,’ you say after a while of the pair of you just standing there, staring at each other. For a brief moment, it felt as though you had opened the door to a stranger instead of your boyfriend. Lifting his head, his Adams apple bobs beneath his balaclava as he steps forward. You take a step back, letting go of the edge of the door. Still, he doesn't speak, only standing there, observing you. ‘I thought you said you weren’t coming home until—‘

‘Don’t wanna talk about it,’ he answers, closing the door behind him.

His clothes are branded with the stench of war, and you take note of his bloodshot eyes. Has he been crying? You thought it impossible for such to be the case, he’d do no such thing. But, when he shakily inhales, grabbing the edge of his balaclava, your stomach dropped.

‘Place looks nice,’ he says, though his eyes don't leave you, ripping his mask from off of his face, shoving it into of his cargo pants. His words were shaky despite the stoic expression on his face. ‘You been alright?’

You look at him with wide eyes. ‘I- uh- yeah, yeah, just sorting out last minute things for Christmas,’ you answer, ‘how about you go and get a shower, get changed into some fresh clothes? I’ll make you something to eat—‘

‘Not hungry,’ he answers frankly, ‘appreciate the offer, doll, but I think I’m just gonna go straight to bed,’ he says. All the moisture in your mouth disappears and you’re forced to swallow a dry mouthful of air as you look up at him.

‘Right,’ you nod, ‘I- I’ll be up right after you, just gonna turn everything off down here,’ you say.

He doesn’t answer you after that, dropping his duffle bag down on the ground by the front door as he traipses up the wooden steps of your home. The garland wrapped around the bannister winks at you as you watch Simon walk up the stairs, almost mocking you for ever think it was a good idea to decorate.

The entirety of your house is wrapped like a Christmas present, reds, greens, colourful lights- everything. Whether it was the right thing to decorate or not, you choose not to focus on it too much as you rush around the house, switching off the decorations and the lights, leaving the washing you had been doing on the counter in the kitchen.

All of it can wait. But he can’t.

So, with such a thought in mind, you busy yourself with your plan. What is included in that plan can be decided as you’re walking through the house, back to the staircase you have just seen your poor boyfriend walking up.

Jogging up each step, you decide that ultimately, everything that has happened in the past few months with be something he will not be willing to discuss with you; he made it clear when he walked through the door. Don’t push him on it.

When your foot hits the last step, you nod to yourself as you consider what you would do if he did want to talk to you about it. If he wants to talk to you about it, then you rejoice in his openness. But it isn’t necessary for him to have your undying support. No matter what he decides, ultimately, your heart is never going to fail on him.

Before heading into your bedroom, you gulp when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out of your pocket, your eyes scan over the message, a shallow exhale escaping your lips.

Mum <3: Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. made sure to grab extra pigs-in-blankets incase Simon decides to appear sometime. Love you xx

Begrudgingly, you stare down at the message before looking at the bedroom door. From beyond it, you can hear the running water in the shower and all you can think about is him. So, with a deep breath, you look back down at your phone and begin to type.

From ‘me’: Slight change of plans but I don’t think we’re going to be able to make it there tomorrow. Simon’s just got home and he’s not good. Don’t think socialising is what he needs right now. Sorry, I love you xx

Choosing has never been easy, yet, when you pushed open the bedroom door and saw his clothes sitting on the bed the pair of you share, you decide that that choice was the easiest one you have ever made in your life. It isn’t a sacrifice when it is necessary. At least, not when it comes to Simon at least.

‘I’m not going home tomorrow,’ you tell him when he walks out of the bathroom. Part of you feels bad for bombarding him with something as soon as he walks out, but the affirming text from your mother causes your heart to swell, and when you see him again, it bursts. His hair is damp and he pulls his face out of the towel with a surprised look. His scarred cheeks are branded with a subtle red tinge from the heat exuding from the bathroom. The heat works well to melt his features just enough for him to mould them into a dissatisfied sneer. ‘I don’t wanna fight you on this, Si.’

‘You can’t cancel on your family,’ he says, approaching his dresser. ‘Not right. I don’t want you to do that for me,’ he continues, grabbing a t-shirt, pulling it over his head. ‘Go spend time with them, am fine here.’

‘I already told my mum,’ you say, ‘she’s fine with it,’ you quickly reassure, far too aware that he very well may be a ticking time bomb.

Oddly, you request of not fighting on it seemingly works as he looks over his shoulder at you. There is simply no fight left in Simon Riley anymore, you conclude it from the way he shrinks as he exhales, padding up to the bed. It was as though he had left the house as a grenade left the hands of a soldier. Upon his return, the body of what made him him: his danger, his determination, and his strength had all been lost and you find he has been reduced to the pin pulled from the grenade.

Looking up at him, you find that it is up to you if you’re going to discard it or keep it as a keepsake.

Pulling the edge of the duvet, you pat the side of the mattress, ‘c’mon,’ you say gently. He doesn’t wait to climb into bed beside you, resting his weary head against the pillow. It’s as though someone is pressing down on his chest as he heaves a sound unlike anything you have ever heard. Exhaustion was clear, but grief was easier to identify in his eyes. Leaning over, you turn the lamp on your beside off, trying your attention to him, lying on his side.

There’s nothing to say. Not to him, not for him, not for yourself. You just lay there and stare at him hoping something will come to you. Anything said will be a bittersweet lullaby, you’re convinced. Nothing is going to put him to sleep. ‘Your minds running; faster than mine, sweetheart,’ he says. His eyes are closed when you look at his face. ‘Don’t want you doin’ stupid things ‘cause of me.’

‘Nothing is stupid when it comes to you, Si’,’ you weakly state.

At this point, you heart is racing, your tongue tangled as you contemplate every single word on the edge of your tongue. ‘Mum said she’ll bring us dinner tomorrow,’ you say with a weak smile, debating on whether or not you should spoil the surprise. ‘We can eat it and watch something… if you want to.’

‘What’s she bringing,’ he asks.

‘A roast,’ you answer, ‘it is Christmas after all.’

He’s quiet for a while, almost as though he doesn’t even want to think about what day it is. December 24th. Christmas Eve. You’re unsure how exactly the holidays work in 141, only noting that he had been away a few times during Christmas. Oddly, this is one of the first ones he’s home with you. His second Christmas since knowing Johnny that he isn’t with him. Your heart weakens at the realisation, your brain cursing you with the knowledge of something so agonising.

They had spent Christmas together.

And now they won’t and never will and it isn’t just because of the distance between Manchester and Scotland.

Rather, it’s because of the distance between this life and the next.

Your eyes well with tears and you close them. Your heart hurts for the man lying in front of you, and when you hear him clear his throat, you find it difficult to contain your own sorrow. ‘Doesn’t feel like Christmas,’ he tells you, his voice trembling as he does. ‘Haven’t slept at all since ‘cause I can’t stop thinking about him just… lyin’ there,’ his throat tightens and his tone grows pitchy as he inhales deeply, swallowing hard. ‘I shoulda done something, I should’ve been there f’r him.’

He’s crying at that point, but not sobbing. In fact, you only know he's crying because, when you place your hand against his cheek and the pad of your thumb wiped away a tear that falls past his eye. ‘You were,’ you choke out, ‘even in death, you were loyal to him, Si’, don’t you dare go cursing your own name for something you were not responsible for,’ you demand. ‘You’ll get him.’

‘We’re fallin’ apart without him,’ Simon sniffles, ‘bet he’s sitting up there pissin’ himself seeing me like this,’ he utters. The pair of you share a laugh at the thought and you move close to him. ‘I just… I told myself after everything that happened to mum and Tommy, I wouldn’t feel anything ‘cause that fucked me up, but then I met Johnny a- and I met you.’

You hold your breath.

‘Simon—‘

‘And what if I can’t keep you safe? I’ve failed at it so much and that fucking pricks got me doubting myself now—‘

‘Shut up,’ you firmly say, ‘I don’t wanna hear it, Si’,’ you utter, ‘and neither would Johnny.’

You press your thumb against his cheek, ‘doubt is a killer, and it’s not me who you’re not gonna be able to protect if you keep thinking the way you are, it’s yourself,’ you continue, licking your dry lips, ‘and… and if you die, then who’s gonna steal the pigs-and-blankets on Christmas Day?’

Whether it was time for humour or not, you’re unsure. But, as you thinking for a moment, you recall the tales told to you by Simon during his time away, particularly his time with the Shadows.

Two goldfish are in a tank…

‘You still remember that?’ he asks eventually. You feel the muscles contort in his face as he smiles at you.

‘Always,’ you respond, ‘mums got them with the dinner tomorrow ‘cause I asked her too… said she got extra incase you planned on robbing any of them.’ You feel bad telling him such information knowing that you had chosen to cancel the holiday. If anything, you’re worried about the guilt you’re causing him by rambling on about the stupid fucking pigs-in-blankets. ‘My point is Si’,’ you take a deep breath, ‘I need you here with me so you can fulfil your duty.’

He shifts and pulls you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist, pressing his face into the nape of your neck. Your hand brushes through his hair, melting in his arms as his hot breath fans against your neck. ‘Wanna see your family tomorrow,’ he says, ‘I’ll go with you.’

‘Are you sure—‘

‘’Ave been stuck in my mind for nearly two months,’ he confesses, pulling away from your neck. ‘Fighting with myself over everything, I’ve hardly spoken to Price or Gaz,' he says. You press your lips together, the thought of him being alone nauseating. ‘Be a waste of money as well if I didn’t try pinching the food your mums made, wouldn’t it?’

You feel him smile as he presses his face back against your neck, his grip on you so tight its almost painful. But you relent, allowing him to have the comfort he so deserves. Resting your head above his, you close your. Whatever awaited you in the future can wait, you conclude.

‘I proud of you,’ you whisper, pressing a kiss onto his head. 'Never gonna let you doubt yourself ever again, not on my watch,' you continue, 'now sleep. We can talk more when you're ready.'

He smiles again.

'I know I can sleep soundly now,' he utters against your skin, 'got you beside me.'

With that, the pair of you fall into silence. You don't sleep, not until you feel his breathing steady against you skin, the subtle rise of his chest as he keeps his arms around you. You keep running you fingers through his hair before eventually, you find your eyes growing heavy and you drift off.

─────────── ∘°❉°∘ ───────────

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lilibethwrites · 2 years

Text

Growing Pains

Aemond Targaryen and Y/N ‘Velaryon’ grew up together. They played and stumbled and fell in the halls and empty chambers of Red Keep, retreated to study tomes under the God’s Tree in the courtyard, and took turns distracting the cooks as their pockets pulled at the seams with the stolen lemon cakes. As Y/N and Aemond’s mothers drifted apart, the young prince and princess grew closer—much closer than either of them thought was possible.

This is a slow-burn, multi-chapter fic that will be (heavily) canon divergent at times. Both Aemond and Y/N are 18+.

Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 (Finale)

Warnings: None for this chapter

Word count: 2180

A.N: This was in the works for a while, but only as a vague idea. Aemond being a total diva and enamouring everyone pulled it out of the drafts and put it together at lightning speed.

“Mother, please. This is not necessary,” Y/N stood still in front of a polished mirror as her soft protest fell on deaf ears. Behind her, Rhaenyra Targaryen held a brush gilded with delicate, gold dragons, and the soft bristles glided through silky white hair.

Rhaenyra would never admit it to anyone but herself in the safe retreat of her mind that half the tears she had wept the night Y/N was born were because she was blessed with a head full of white hair like a true Targaryen and Velaryon. Rhaenyra was relieved. She was relieved that at least one of her children would be spared the cruel jabs and accusations wherever she went. True, their words couldn’t be called accusations if they had truth to them, and what set Y/N apart from her older brothers was not blood, for they shared the same father, but a bit of luck or perhaps an intervention from the old Gods or the new. But the specifics eluded Rhaenyra, and no one needed to know any further.

Y/N had servants doting her from the moment she took her first breath—and not only because they had to, but because she was, not unlike her mother, a delight to be around—and yet for the ten and eight years she’s been alive, her hair was gently brushed and braided by her mother. Despite the fact that Y/N loved nothing more than to run around and come back to her chambers come afternoon with scrapes and dirt across her face and her hair a dishevelled disaster, Rhaenyra carefully brushed and braided her hair unceasingly, morning after morning.

So, a dismissive—loving, but dismissive nevertheless—hum was all Y/N got out of Rhaenyra.

“Two or one? Perhaps one over, and one under?”

“Only one, please. Leave the rest as is, I’m to take Tessarion out of the pit soon.”

Rhaenyra, in curiosity, cocked her head to the side to catch Y/N’s gaze in the reflection of the mirror. Meanwhile, her deft fingers dove in and out of strands of white hair, creating a tight, single braid that would soon twirl into a simple bun with a few pins.

“Have I not told you? Apologies. She hasn’t flown in days, and the weather seems well. It would do her good to—”

“Flying alone, are you?”

“No,” Y/N’s voice came out weak. A stronger “no” soon followed. “Vhagar is coming, too.”

“You mean Aemond,” Rhaenyra’s shapely brows furrowed into a disapproving frown.

It didn’t take a Sister of the Faith or the Spymaster of the court to know that Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent weren’t what they once were. A collateral of their bitter falling out was her somewhat sudden disapproval of how much time Y/N had spent with Aemond. “That boy’s nothing but bad influence,” she’d complain over dinner. Daemon would hum in agreement, though the agreement, Y/N knew, did not come from his heart. Y/N always had her suspicion that Daemon and Aemond had mutual respect, and perhaps a slight hint of admiration for one another. Though both were too proud to ever be anything other than reverential to one another whenever they crossed paths. Even so, Daemon saw Y/N with Aemond several times, and reassured Rhaenyra that she only spent time with the servant girls, helping them fold heavy tapestries all day long.

Y/N however, felt differently. Despite her childish cruelty towards Aemond before he’d claimed Vhagar for himself, he was nothing but sweet and kind to her. She was in on cruel pranks played on him, parading around a much smaller Tessarion whilst asking him why did he not have a dragon, and could he perhaps be a bastard himself since his egg hadn’t hatched.

“You know, Tessarion was a goddess in old Valyria. Mother helped me choose a name for my dragon. From the tomes of our Maester. When will you get a dragon? You’re older than me. Besides, everyone else has one. Except for you,” Y/N once pressed Aemond as a child, instigated and encouraged by her brothers and Aemond’s.

“Perhaps never,” Aemond responded quietly, unbeknownst to both himself and Y/N that things would change quite soon.

And change they did. Aemond claimed the biggest dragon in the known realm. He changed, too. He hopped off from his first flight as a man: colder, calmer, more distant and cruel. Yet he always reserved a warmer, softer place in his frozen heart for Y/N.

Aemond never regarded himself handsome, and he was too smart to fool himself with Alicent’s excuses as to why young ladies around Red Keep avoided her. But not Y/N. Never Y/N. She beamed up whenever they sat across from each other at the breakfast tables and dinner feasts. Though their games changed, the time they spent together never lessened. She seemed almost *happy* to see him, but Aemond took great care to remind himself it was a kind, friendly gesture from a well-behaved lady. Though he couldn’t dare say it out loud unless he risked a playful slap to his broad shoulder with a feigned-stern warning that Y/N was not a lady.

“By the Gods! I’m NOT a lady. I’ll wear an armour, like you. Don’t laugh. You will see. I will never get married. I won’t fall in love. It’s absurd. Mother says she said the same thing once, but she ended up fighting in the same battlefield all women do,” Y/N stomped her feet to the pit just last week with Aemond following behind with a lopsided smile.

“And what battlefield is that, my not-a-lady?”

“The birthing bed, of course! It’s absurd. Truly. It’s a horror! I’m never falling in love.”

Aemond only hummed, nodding as Y/N trailed off, nearing the end of another one of her rants about the perils of ladyhood. Though that time, his face fell. There was a stinging ache inside him, as if Ser Criston finally got him in one of their training sessions. Why did it matter if Y/N disavowed love? So what if she was sworn off marriage? Didn’t he do the very same as he stared at the grotesque scar that ran across his face? Besides, if she were to fall in love, it would be with a handsome and flirty Lannister, or a ravishing Velaryon who would whisper promises in her ear that he’d sail her across the whole realm, showing her palaces and gardens from the comfort of her own ship. Y/N grew into an attractive lady, and while Aemond himself grew taller and muscular, he was not fortunate enough to grow another eye in place of the one he lost. Though the trade was far from fair, sometimes a certain thought snuck into his mind, especially when he was with Y/N: he would trade Vhagar back for his eye, and then, perhaps Y/N would see him differently. It was a silly thought, and he chased it off as soon as it came, but by the Gods it was persistent.

“Good morning,” Y/N squinted an eye to stare up at the man with his back to her. She needn’t see his face to know her dragon-riding partner. Not because almost all her waking thoughts were plagued, in one way or the other, with him—it was indecent and quite frankly went against what she’d promised herself—Gods, no! But, well, he was tall and stood a certain way and shifted his weight from one foot to the other a certain way and his hair blew in the tender morning breeze a certain way and that breeze carried a certain scent that Y/N could distinguish from a feast hall full of smells—only because they grew up together. Perhaps Maester was right and reading too many romances was indeed perilous for a fresh mind like hers.

“Morning? Is it not past noon?”

“No. Perhaps you have suffered a blow to your head.”

Aemond smiled first. He always let Y/N win their playful bickering.

A gentle tap on his arm signalled him to follow along, though with his long legs he could’ve easily caught up with no warnings. His arms were folded behind him. Perhaps it was a feeble attempt at ensuring that his hands didn’t defy his mind and reach for Y/N’s, or perhaps, they were just comfortable like that.

“Are you excited?” Y/N broke the silence, stepping closer to Aemond, who always had to arch his back or crane his neck to meet her height. It amused him how petite she was in comparison. It reminded him of the times he carried her behind his back, with her legs locked around his waist and her arms almost suffocating him with how tight she’d clutched his neck from behind.

“What for?”

“The wedding, of course. Gods, you behave as if Aemon is not your brother sometimes!”

“Can you blame me?”

“No…” Y/N trailed off. She found that she couldn’t blame him for much, but perhaps for coming into her mind and filling her ears each time a suitor introduced himself to her, or when the Maester bored her to death with another history lesson.

“Well, are you?”

“No. I suppose not. Frankly, I’m not certain why I even asked,” Y/N chuckled. She could be herself the most and speak with no reservations or designations when she was around Aemond. The idea that he would soon follow after Aegon and marry a woman infuriated her. They could no longer spend as much time together as they could now, and they couldn’t be as close as they were either. The grass-green dragon of jealousy got the better of her. Oh, how she wished he’d let his arms idle by his side as he usually did. She would take his arm and tell him if she absolutely had to marry someone, she’d choose him, and she wouldn’t hate the notion of giving him a baby or two who would look exactly half like him and half like her. And despite telling herself this exact tale almost every day, she never quite gathered enough confidence and courage to do such a thing.

So instead Y/N flew alongside Aemond as usual. He showed off and she admired whenever she thought he didn’t look. High up above the clouds, Y/N thought about never landing down again. She fantasized about taking off with Aemond. She had once read in a tome about how the old Valyrians got married, and the words turned into pictures in her mind as she watched Vhagar glide through a flock of birds. The blood was first drawn from a palm she thought about pressing against hers whenever sleep eluded her. Then, the sharp Dragonglass cut hers, and the flow of their blood united in a mysterious Valyrian magic. Then—then, Aemond pulled Y/N out of her sweet fantasy and back to the clouds they were flying above.

“It’s getting late. Your mother might worry.”

“Or perhaps you’ve had enough of my company? Would you rather be elsewhere?”

The smile faded from Y/N’s face as the silence went on. It was a “yes”, then? Aemond did want to be elsewhere, perhaps with someone else, and she would find out through a silly tease.

“No. But I would rather you were not in trouble on my account.”

The delayed, stoic answer didn’t do much to comfort Y/N. So, that’s what he would come up with as an excuse to cut our time short? Might as well admit that you would rather be anywhere but here, why won’t you, Aemond?

“Actually, yes. We should land. I forgot I have a suitor coming all the way from the Eyrie.” That was a lie, and an immature one at that, but Aemond didn’t need to know.

He looked back over his shoulder. The hiss laced with disappointment and fury was swallowed up by the wind raised by Vhagar’s wings.

Back at the Pit, Aemond was courteous as always, hopping off Vhagar first to hold his hand out to Y/N, helping her off her dragon. Though this time, his hand didn’t reach for her waist to aid her in her small jump, and the lack of his touch through his gloves and her heavy brocade riding coat burned her flesh from the inside out like scorching iron. His face was turned to the side, his hands idle with the saddle on Vhagar as Y/N idled, praying to all the Gods she knew to pry a word of assurance out of Aemond’s mouth. A sweet, warm confirmation that they are still—well, friends. Yet it never came. A quiet, almost distant “Be well, princess,” was all that she got and a sharp piece of Dragonglass cut her open from neck to the heart. Far more painful and deadlier than an open palm, and no matching cut to bind their lives together, either. Perhaps the idea of marrying the very next lord that asked for her hand and getting away from King’s Landing—a place that once held much hope and happiness but now nothing but anguish—once and for all wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #hotd

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kennysboxergf · 9 months

Note

write smt for niko where reader has nails on and she’s just scratching nikos head and he falls asleep on her and is in awn of him please and thank u

Acrylics ~ Niko Omilana

Ok alright so first of all my apologies i started writing this and then it took a mind of its own and ran away from me so im so sorry if this isnt exactly what you wanted 💔

—

Your fingers worked at Niko’s scalp as he lay in your lap. You felt as he sank deeper and deeper into your embrace and as his muscles relaxed under your new acrylic nails. You looked over at him and found only peace and relaxation in his expression, despite that you couldn’t help as your earlier conversation echoed in your head.

“How do you do anything with those knives on your fingers?” is the question that pops you out of the book you were reading. You close it shut, knowing this conversation was not going to just disappear, when Niko wanted to know something he usually found out.

“What do you mean knives?” you ask, pretending to not understand the joke so he would drop it.

Of course, he didn’t drop it.

“I mean those long pointy things you’ve stuck onto your already long, pointy, nails” he answered, vaguely gesturing towards your hand with his.

“My acrylics?” you asked back with a dead-pan look on your face.

“Nuh-uh” came the answer as he shook his head, “acrylic is a type of paint. You have literal murder weapons stuck to the end of your fingers” he finished with an accusatory point at your hands.

You smiled simply in his direction before extending one long finger (+ nail) in his direction. You bent it towards yourself in a beckoning motion, willing him to come closer. He did so, albeit hesitantly.

When he approached the couch you were settled on you grabbed onto his shirt and tugged him down. He fell (ungraciously) onto the couch right next to you with an oomph. When he settled he looked at you with a mix between a glare and a confused head tilt. You simply shrugged because you had no idea why you had done that either.

He opened his mouth as if to complain but you quickly shut him up with a finger on his lips. Once again he looked down at the finger in confusion but you didn’t utter a word, just rearranged his tall man limbs into your lap. He went quite easily, but as soon as the two of you were comfortable he opened his big mouth again.

“Your murder knives are stabbing me, y/n” he said once more with a trace of a pout on his lips.

You moved your hand from where it was resting on his stomach up to his scalp. You felt him tense as your nails first trailed through his curls. You muttered a soothing “don’t worry baby, these murder knives can do a lot more than just kill men.”

Well maybe that wasn’t too soothing but he did go from deep freeze rigid to just tense so it was a win you guessed.

And all of that led you to where you were right now. With his head in your lap as your fingers worked into his hair. He was actively just melting into you, his whole body relaxing. You smiled at his behaviour as his eyes fluttered shut.

After a couple of minutes of massaging you heard soft noises coming from your boyfriend. Small gasps and quiet moans of pleasure echoed in the room. He didn’t seem to notice as his head lay still, eyes shut and mouth slightly open.

You stop your motions and he jerks back into reality, his eyes open as he looks at you.

“Baby, I’ll pay for your nails for the rest of the year if you just keep going right now” he promised quietly.

You chuckled but started with your motions once more, his eyes fell shut again. “No more murder knives?” You tease.

His head starts to shake before he realises he can’t do that with you massaging him. So he just mutters a simple “nothing that makes me feel this nice can be used for murder I take my words back”

“Ok,” you respond but then continue after a pause, “but you can’t take back the words about paying for my nails” you warn him.

He smiles, “of course.”

—

as always requests are open and please come by and say hi <3

#beta squad #niko omilana #niko x reader #niko x you #cute

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chanshoesunite · 2 years

Text

Making yourself cum on Chan's arm

GENRE: smut, snark, idk arm kink?

WORD COUNT: 2223

Author’s Note (Co-curator Tortoise): This image has been living in my head rent free ever since they posted it. It is my lockscreen for heavens sake!! I have been imagining riding his arm EVERY DAY and it's just not healthy at this point. If you are like me, welcome, please leave a message so we can descend into madness together.

WARNINGS: rated M (minors do not engage!), masturbation, petting

„Oh my fucking GOD!“, you exclaim while staring at your phone. Luckily, no one is around, so you do not have to share the cause for your excitement – and despair. Chan has just posted a selfie with Changbin in the group chat “zoo and keeper 💪🐺🐰” between you three and Changbin’s girlfriend.

“Had a good set today~” was the accompanying text.

“Why would he do this to me”, you are absolutely stunned, while also knowing for sure that he has no idea what such a picture would do to you, seeing as you are simply the boys’ flatmate.

You wish you were more than that, so you could write something like Changbin’s girlfriend: “Tell Changbin I need him at my place urgently – it’s for sex reasons.”

You snort and think: “Same, girl. But we can’t all have fit as fuck boyfriends. Some of us have to suffer as singles while living with a perfectly eligible bachelor.”

However, you write: “EEEEWWWW, did NOT need to know this, will purge this from my memory in 3 – 2 – 1 – hey Changbin I have a weird feeling I won’t be seeing you around tonight so don’t forget to put the bins out tomorrow!!”

The ensuing snark in the chat has you grinning and helps you push The Picture out of your mind. It’s late in the afternoon on a Saturday so you decide to live it up and watch a Netflix documentary about some murder cult to distract yourself further. It works, but not for long, because inevitably Chan comes home, all by his lonesome and handsome self.

“Hey, what are we watching?”, he asks, flopping down on the sofa next to you once he has deposited his gym bag in his room. You risk a quick glance at him. Yep, still slightly wet hair from his shower, arms still pumped, veins still popping. God is testing you today.

“People being murdery”, you gesture vaguely at your glass and Chan helpfully reaches over to hand it to you. “Thanks.”

Your fingers brush his wonderfully warm skin and you take a breath and another peek. You notice something on his left hand and – damn it, damn yourself for not resisting – you grasp it lightly to take a closer look. His large hands are calloused, but surprisingly soft. You already knew that and you shamelessly relish the chance of touching him now under the guise of checking out the raw spot on his palm.

“And how did that happen?”, you wonder, “I thought you had callouses for dayyyys”, you stretch the sound while standing up to get some ointment.

“Ah, yeah”, he says shyly, rubbing his head, shouting after you, “you knaur, I guess I didn’t put my straps on properly.”

“Heh, strap-on”, you tease automatically as you walk back, cream in hand. You open the tube and put a pea-sized portion on his reddened skin. “Would’ve thought that makes you raw in other areas.”

“Oh my gosh, YN”, he laughs, letting his head fall back against the couch, then looking up cheekily, “I guess it depends how you use it?”

You huff a laugh, focusing on gently rubbing in the cream – fuck, you love doing this. You try not to make it last too long or be too sensual, but you cannot help but enjoy the texture of his skin under your fingers. You draw little circles on the redness, then use the cream to slightly push into the surrounding muscles of his hand as well.

“I’m not sure you know how to use a strap-on properly then! Best stick to the straps you know – and come find me if your callouses get defeated by your recklessness again.”

You pretend as if you want to get rid of the last bits of cream and travel your fingers up his sleeveless underarm, cruising his prominent veins for a few seconds. Then you quickly pull back and look at the TV screen again. Your fingers are warm from where you touched Chan’s arm, and you have to clench your hand to get rid of the tingly feeling in them. You brush your lips with the same hand that just touched Chan in a nervous tic, which only serves to make you even more nervous when you notice what you are doing and that Chan is still watching you. You pull your hand away from your mouth immediately.

“What?”, you ask, trying to play it cool, because obviously there is nothing to get all bothered by.

“Thanks”, he says simply, with a wide, happy smile. You feel like you could turn into putty when he smiles this way and you yearn to be moulded into something new by him. How dare his mouth and arms work in tandem like that? You try to save yourself by dialling up the drama in your voice:

“Ugh, it’s alright, I guess, all in a day’s work for a saint like me. I do accept alms in the form of chocolate and cash” – and cock, you add in your head, which makes you roll your eyes at yourself and back at the TV but you do catch a glimpse of Chan licking his lips before replying:

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

And you could bicker further, but his low voice took on a weird tone (playful, but sexy? Suggestive? Oh, lord!) and you have literally no spoons left to contain your horniness, so you try to ignore the gorgeous presence next to you and focus on murder.

***

Four hours later you wake up, with a weight on you in unfamiliar places. You have somehow managed to partly drape yourself over Chan –you are spooning into him, holding his left arm hostage like your favourite plushie. His t-shirt is wet where you drooled on him, his head is resting above you. You are surprised to find him asleep, considering his insomniac tendencies.

Still quite dazed, you relish the feeling of his upper arm and side against your body. You lie there, just existing, enjoying this fleeting moment, listening to Chan’s calm breaths, the beating of his heart that you could swear you can feel from where his muscular arm is pressed against you.

When he moves in his sleep, you unwillingly relent your grip. Better to let him turn freely than wake him up. But he doesn’t move away – at least, not the way you expected. He grumbles, flexing his triceps as he slides his arm down. His arm is now lying between you and him, his hand is resting on your thigh, which you have tucked up against you, turning you into a little croissant.

On instinct, you slightly open your legs to let his hand in. You wonder what the hell you are doing. He hooks his hand between your thighs. You wonder what the hell HE is doing. Chan pulls you closer with an ease that both delights and disgusts you in the best possible way. You don’t breathe. He doesn’t let go. His hand is now nicely sandwiched between your legs. His fingers squeeze the meaty part of your thigh, tantalizingly close to your pussy. You lift your head, trying to look in his face. Is he still asleep? Are you his plushie now? Have you died and gone to heaven?

He seems peacefully asleep and you lie back down carefully. You are now much closer to him. You feel hot and a bit shivery. His fingers continue to flex in obviously involuntary movements, his synapses firing in deep sleep. Your eyes drift shut with pleasure.

It feels good. His touch, his proximity, this entire situation. You are taut as a bowstring from excitement. You experimentally touch Chan’s upper arm again, holding on, gently stroking the exposed skin with your thumb. He is so soft and his muscles so thick you could sink your teeth into them.

With the smallest gasp, you cannot help but roll your hips into his hand, very carefully, to cause that sweet friction you have been denied so far. Lightning strikes through your clit into your stomach.

“Oh shit”, you think, “oh shit, I shouldn’t have done that.”

Because you cannot stop yourself now. Chan’s heady closeness, his smell, his warmth, his fingers and now your own naughty movement have pushed you over an edge and you have to keep rolling, rocking yourself into him. You try to hold back, to be as soft as you can. You make a keening sound, nearly inaudible. You feel like you are being set on fire.

And then Chan turns over and captures you tightly. He rotates the arm between your legs so his hand is splayed on your arse cheek, holding on. His other arm comes down on your other side. He hovers over you, his elbows propping him up while his free hand snakes under your head to grab you in the nape of your neck. You cannot escape from the tight space he has created.

You suck in a shocked breath, your eyes snap open. His face is so close. Before you can move or say anything, try to explain yourself, he grins down at you.

“I knew you liked my arms, YN”, his voice is hoarse and quiet, laced with satisfaction, “I just didn’t know you liked them that much.”

“I’m so sorry”, you say with a panicked look on your face, trying to squirm out of his grasp, “I didn’t think…I didn’t mean to…”

Chan neither lets you finish your sentence nor continue your futile struggle against the virtual wall he has created with his body. He flexes the arm between your legs up against your crotch, squeezing your bum tightly.

“Fffuuuhhck”, you let out a broken moan from the sudden stimulation and your eyes drift shut again. This is what you needed. All the little movements you dared to make before cannot compare in any way to this. Chan’s large hand on your neck squeezes slightly.

“I like it when you swear”, Chan says, looking down at you, relenting the pressure of his arm and then pushing in again, making you gasp, bucking your hips, “and I like it when you use me. So, go on, YN…use me.”

You decide that this is the most realistic sex dream you ever had and to just fucking go with it. You pull Chan’s head down to cover his plump lips with soft kisses. He opens his mouth for you and it feels like he is ready to devour you. When his tongue touches yours for the first time, you feel like you might cum on the spot. His lips and tongue seem to tease you, promising more pleasure.

Your other hand grabs his arm, feeling his magnificent muscles straining to give you as much friction as you need. You start riding his arm slowly but with strength behind every roll of your hips.

“Come on, YN, I can take it.”

It’s dizzying. You pick up your pace, and soon there is no rhythm to your movements anymore, just plain wanton need to feel more. You are moaning into his mouth as he lets his tongue play with yours.

“That’s right, just like that. You have been holding back for so long, being all proper with me, I am so glad you are finally letting loose, you look fucking beautiful, my little princess.”

His low voice, his self-assured tone is driving you closer to your peak, and Chan can tell by your frantic movements and sounds. He kisses your lips, down your jaw. He squeezes your arse and your nape as he growls into your ear: “Keep going, baby girl. Cum on me.”

Yes, this is what you needed.

With a throaty moan you press your wet pussy against his strong underarm and ride out your orgasm, whimpering nonsense. Chan leans his forehead against yours, whispering how sexy you are while you spasm under him.

After what feels like millenia, you go limp. You are breathing hard, still making little noises as you come down from your high.

“Oh, fuck me, oh, that was so good”, you gasp.

Chan lies down next to you and pulls you in tight. He nuzzles your neck and you can feel his grin.

“Yeah? I think so too. Very hot. I especially liked it when you said I am your own personal Adonis.”

You groan and hide your face in your hands.

“I did say that didn’t I?! This is all the fault of. That. Picture.”

You turn around and accentuate your words with pinches to his shoulder and biceps. Chan laughs and catches your hand before it can pinch any further, kissing your fingers.

“You knaur, I never thought this would happen, but I am very happy it did”, he turns a little serious and looks into your eyes intently. “I think you are really cool and hot. And I would like to do this again. Maybe you will find some other parts of me even more enjoyable.”

You cock an eyebrow, making a show of looking him up and down.

“Hm, you think so, do you? Well, you muscular, arrogant, delectable, little shit, I will be the judge of that!”

And with that you attack his lips and push your hand down his pants to reward him for his existence in general and the orgasm he gifted you in particular.

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