#Slight Childe x reader

[gabriel-xander]

I Wish You Died Instead Ch. 2

[Scaramouche x Fem!Reader]

A/N: I started writing this before all of his lore came out/Before the last Sumeru Archon quest, so there will be a handful of inconsistency later on. My advice to you? Just go with it!

{Also on Quotev, Ao3, and Wattpad under Gabriel Xander}

Chapter 2: You Get Slapped Twice

You sigh quietly when you knock against Scaramouche's office door.

The other Fatui agents had looked at you with some sort of judgement when you entered the building with Kazuki. You always made the effort to separate yourself from everyone else, so your reputation with the others was pretty shit. It's not like you were hated (hopefully), but they probably wouldn't go out of their way to save your ass if they saw you getting attacked.

That being said, they were all openly praying for you when you made your way to Scaramouche's office. Kazuki even hugged you before you left??

"I didn't tell you right away because I wanted to spend one last moment with you," Kazuki had told you, "Out of everyone I have ever met, I've always hated you the least."

You're gonna die for sure. <3

Scaramouche's voice snaps from the other side: "What."

That was the cue and permission to enter. Just his special way of showing he cares or whatever. You open the door and step inside, immediately feeling the overwhelming presence of the Balladeer. You close the door behind yourself, getting on your right knee to show false respect towards the Harbinger.

"My Lord, you wanted to see me?"

You kept your voice flat and bored, your expression was half hidden by your mask, though it was for naught as your face is devoid of emotion.

"Where were you during the meeting?" Scaramouche asks, not looking up from whatever paperwork he was completing.

"Reviewing the reports from my last deployment," You keep your response short, as you learned that Scaramouche hated the chatty ones, "I apologize for my absence."

"Did something go wrong?"

Why does he care?

"..."

You open your mouth but quickly close it again.

He doesn't care, he probably asked just to tell you to shut up. You see him do that with other agents, and you're not feeling like you're up for his sass.

"Whatever, I don't really care," Scaramouche sighs, "Start packing your bags, we're going to Liyue tomorrow morning with Tartaglia."

"Fuck."

"What was that?"

Ah shit. You didn't mean to say that out loud. The air is tense, there's no going back now. You're going to regret this opening your stupid mouth.

"With all due respect, My Lord-"

You wince when you hear Scaramouche push the chair back to stand up. He's walking towards you.

"-This is a sudden decision and a departure to a nation across Teyvat requires more planning. Not only that, my recent report-"

SMACK!

Your cheek burns from the aftermath, and you thank your luck for not falling over from that painful, backhanded slap. You bite your tongue to stop yourself from yelling in anger, and you dig your fingers into your palm so you don't slap him back.

This is exactly why you never fucking talk to Scaramouche.

"Get ready for tomorrow, [L/n]," Scaramouche smirks sadistically, "I'd hate to kill you so soon. You're the most tolerable second in command I've had so far."

You don't respond, not because you know to stay quiet, but because you don't want to waste your breath for someone like him. You stand up and keep your head low, stuffing your hands into your pockets to hide that your fists are shaking with aggression.

"Yes, My Lord. Is there anything else?" You ask quietly.

"Hm... yeah. Now that you mention it, I was going to do it myself, but since you're here..." Scaramouche walks to his desk to grab a few papers, "Do you know where Tartaglia is?"

You furrow your brows, "Yes, My Lord. He's-"

"-Just take these to him and tell him the plans for the departure," Scaramouche basically thrusts the papers at you, so you had no choice but to get them, "Can you handle that?"

Motherfucker is mocking you.

"Yes, sir," You bite back, "Would you like a coffee with that order?"

"Watch your tongue."

You look down at the papers and frown. You've only spoken to Tartaglia that one time, and you're honestly praying he won't recognize you. He might want to fight you or something.

You bow slightly before leaving the office, jogging down the halls to find the ginger bread man. Scaramouche rolls his eyes at your departure, heading back to his desk to complete the paperwork.

He doesn't like how simultaneously expressive and monotonous you are. You have so much fighting spirit, but your delivery is so dry. It's most definitely a front you display in front of him since you know how to behave. But Scaramouche wishes you can hide that true part of yourself better.

...

He doesn't know why.

——

You lean your back against the wall, watching Tartaglia beat the living shit out of his subordinates in the largest training room. That included Kazuki, so it was amusing to see his cocky ass get ate.

The Zapolyarny Palace was home to many Harbingers and Fatui agents. While there were a few from each group that had their own homes out of the palace they lived in, you unfortunately lived with the majority in the damn palace.

Sure, staying in the same building with the Tsaritsa was epic and all, but... you're not a die-hard worshiper like most people. In fact, you don't really have a favorite Archon. You thought Barbatos was pretty nifty, but that's about it.

Joining the Fatui wasn't to devote yourself to the Tsaritsa and her mysterious plans. You joined because you're curious about the truth behind Khae-

"[L/n]?"

You're brought back when Kazuki calls out to you. Poor Kazuki was laying on the floor and panting with exhaustion. Tartaglia was standing above him victoriously, a sadistic smile plastered his face.

"Kazuki," You nod in acknowledgement, both of you keeping it strictly professional when you're around others.

Tartaglia looks at you and widens his eyes a bit: "[L/n]? Oh, I remember you!"

Ah shit.

"Lord Tartaglia," You bow deeply, "it's a pleasure."

"Hey, didn't I tell you to call me Childe?" The Harbinger chuckles as he steps over Kazuki towards you.

"Oh, yes. Apologies, Lord Childe."

"No, just... ah, we'll work on it," The ginger sighs, "Did you come for your friend here? Or did you finally miss me enough to come find me?"

You see Kazuki in your peripheral vision pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation. You almost do the same.

"Oh, how did you know?" You reply humorlessly, showing Childe the papers, "Actually, Lord Scaramouche made me his messenger girl. He wanted me to inform you that his branch will be departing to Liyue with you tomorrow morning. And he wanted me to give you these."

Childe raises a brow as he takes them. You see his eyes move side to side as he quickly reads through the first paper.

"Hm... Well, me and my subordinates were actually supposed to take this ship to Liyue for some business as well. It seems Scaramouche wants to preserve resources and have us both leave tomorrow." Childe summarizes for you.

Which he really didn't need to. Maybe he's just being friendly so you can drop your guard just so he can find a weakness and exploit it.

He then frowns, "That's way too soon for a spontaneous trip. The ship won't have room for all of us if Scaramouche plans on bringing all his subordinates."

You simply stand there with your hands behind your back, listening to Childe's woes quietly. Not that the gossip will help you, but you can never be too careful about observing people for later references.

"What do you think, Wakus Bonkus [L/n]?"

You frown, not understanding why your opinion matters for this.

"I-"

"Ooh! You naughty, Wankus Bonkus!"

"-Actually! Come with me, won't you, [L/n]?" Childe starts walking out of room, "You too, Kuzashi!"

"It's Kazuki," The male in question sighs quietly as he pushes himself to stand.

You wait for your comrade before you two leave the room, quickly trailing after the Harbinger who took long strides.

"You're alive," Kazuki says with wonder.

"No shit, Sherlock," You scoff out a laugh, "Wait, no!"

You skip ahead to walk in front of Kazuki, walking backwards so you can face him.

"Kazuki~! Kazuki~~!" You sing in a low and "spooky" tone, "This is the ghost of [L/n]~! I've come back with a warning~!"

The brunette rolls his eyes, though you couldn't see thanks to his mask. You snicker quietly and spin around to walk normally.

"Lord Scaramouche just wanted to yell at someone, honestly," You said, "He wanted to tell me about the departure to Liyue for tomorrow morning. Apparently, he also wanted us to tag along with Lord Tartaglia and his subordinates. Something about saving the resources?"

"What? But... You guys can't leave Snezhnaya yet. Your recent report about-"

"-Yeah, I tried telling him that but he fucking pimp slapped me into the next nation."

You're pretty sure you heard Childe snort.

"...Are you okay?"

"What, are you worried about me? Don't be getting soft on me, Kazuki."

"Well, fuck you too, then."

"Charming." You tense up suddenly when Childe stops in front of Scaramouche's office, "Lord Childe, why are we here?"

Childe knocks on the door twice before opening it, "I'm coming in, Scaramouche."

God dammit, Childe.

You wait until Childe enters the office before you silently throw a tantrum and stomp towards the office. Kazuki was watching that happen with deep understanding in his eyes.

"What do you want?" You hear Scaramouche spit out before you enter the office with Kazuki.

You almost wave awkwardly when Scaramouche looks at you with, what you believe is to be, disgust. The Balladeer pushes his chair back and marches around the table and towards you. You honestly expect him to beat you up right then and there.

"Did you bring him?"

"What is this about your trip to Liyue tomorrow?" Childe interrupts with a frown, "This is too soon for your departure, especially with the amount of people that will be coming."

Scaramouche frowns, "Deal with it. I have no other business to attend to here, so I might as well head to what concerns me next. The next ship heading to Liyue doesn't arrive until next month, I'm not waiting that long."

You feel Kazuki's eyes on you, you had to bite your tongue to not speak up. Unfortunately, the Archons have chosen you to be their silliest clown for today.

"And you, [L/n]?" Childe crosses his arms as he turns to look at you with expectancy, "What is your opinion on this?"

...

Wat?

You widen your eyes from behind your mask and shake your head, instinctively taking a step back when you see Scaramouche get closer in your peripheral vision.

"Oh, I—don't-my opinion isn't-"

"-No, tell me, [L/n]." Scaramouche was suddenly standing in front of you, causing you to flinch, "You clearly have something to say. Then say it."

Childe is literally dead to you now. If you weren't a subordinate, you would've given Childe a look that read exactly as "I fucking hate you".

"Well... Two months ago I received an "anonymous tip" from a Fatui agent who received that tip from a civilian somewhere in Snezhnaya," You made air quotes when needed, then placed your hands on you hips, "Apparently, a Treasure Hoarder group had ambushed some Fatui and stole not only their equipment, but also the Visions from those who had it."

Scaramouche frowns, "Yeah, I remember that. I sent you out to deal with it."

You nod, "Right. The Treasure Hoarders were dealt with, but we lost a handful of men and their entire beings disappeared. However, those Treasure Hoarders were no doubt killed."

You had made the order for their execution, but you didn't stick around to see the monstrosity you made your soldiers become. You couldn't handle it.

"So, what's the issue?"

"Two days ago, when it was my day off, I got um..." You furrow your eyebrows to think, "I guess ambushed is the correct term, but I wasn't in danger. Anyway, I got a surprise visit from a random civilian. She told me that she was the one who sent that anonymous tip from before. But she had actually deceived us at that time."

Kazuki crosses his arms, "And how did she recognize you?"

"Her son was one of my subordinates, and he was the one who gave me that tip in the first place. He gave a detailed description of my appearance to her just so she could come find me."

"What happened next?" Childe asks with a serious expression.

"Well, two months ago, she and her son, Isaac, were beaten near death by several groups of Treasure Hoarders. They took Isaac hostage and stole his Vision, then they threatened to kill his mother if Issac didn't agree to cooperate and become a supplier. So, Isaac led a group of agents to a false camp site to get ambushed. And that was the version of events we were exposed to."

You had kept your voice monotonous the entirety of your explanation, not wanting Scaramouche to have a reason for calling you emotional or whatever. Either way, it just comes naturally to you when talking to the Harbingers.

"But I guess those agents we thought were dead, are actually still alive and are part of the Treasure Hoarders. They've been using their Visions and equipment to replicate the technology, armor, and weapons. Isaac is probably dead, but it's for sure known that he at least stopped cooperating with them. I haven't heard from his mother since two days ago."

You hold your hands behind your back, waiting in the tense silence for what the Harbingers might say.

"[L/n]..."

SMACK!!

You could barely see the hand coming towards you, the next thing you knew, you were on the floor with no doubt a bright handprint burning your right cheek. Your mask had flown off from the force, causing it to slide against the floor and out of your reach.

This motherfucker slapped you.

Again.

You...

Really hate Scaramouche so fucking much.

Kazuki takes a step towards you in concern, but he remembers where he is and stops. Folding his arms behind himself to preserve his image, Kazuki looks away, opting to just look at your mask.

"Scaramouche-"

"-I deal with my subordinates however I see fit, Tartaglia," The Balladeer says coldly, cutting off the ginger, "I'm staying in Snezhnaya after all. It seems I haven business to take care of."

You can taste your blood pooling in your mouth from how hard and suddenly you bit your tongue. You keep your head down and stay where you are, knowing that behaving like this will make him happy about "making you submit".

"Our business seems to be done now, correct?" Scaramouche starts walking to his desk, "Leave. All of you. I'm getting tired of looking at you."

Well, Childe didn't want to keep looking at Scaramouche either! He grabs your mask and leaves the room without another word. Kazuki was quick to follow while you were just getting up from the floor.

"Come back tomorrow morning after Tartaglia is to depart," Scaramouche says, "You don't want me to be the one to seek you out first."

"Yes, My Lord," You mutter quietly to keep your lips as closed as you could to stop the blood from seeping out.

And with that, you leave his office for the 2nd time that day with a bruise already coloring your face. You close the door behind yourself and immediately turn your head to the side to spit out a surprising amount of blood.

Gross.

You hear Childe telling Kazuki some orders, but you were more focused on spitting out the metallic liquid to actually pay attention to what was said. When you hear a pair of footsteps grow distant, you assume Childe has left you alone. You pull down your sleeve and wipe at your mouth to rid of any red that may have stained your lips.

"Here," Childe's gloved hand (even though the glove looked like it was halfway on) holds out your mask to you, "Is... Scaramouche always like that?"

Childe's eyebrows were furrowed together, a small frown etching his lips. You can't help but notice that his two red earrings compliment his blue eyes. You've always acknowledged that Childe looks pretty, but it was more of a physical thing. His personality is starting to shine through in making him more attractive.

You smile softly, "Thank you... And yes. But you learn to tune it out... Or so I've been told by an apparent liar."

Childe chuckles, "I didn't mean to get you in trouble like that. But also, you did save me from an unpleasant trip with him, so I guess I owe you one."

"No, there's no need," You don't bother putting your mask back, "You're the reason why I was able to get a word in at all. So, I should be thanking you, Lord Childe."

He shakes his head: "Just Childe."

"Lord Childe."

"Childe."

"Master Childe?"

"Childe."

"Sir Childe?"

"..."

"Childe, sir?" You couldn't help the grin, "Mr. Man Childe Sir?"

The blue eyed male rolls his eyes with a grin matching yours, "Alright, alright, wise guy. You should get some rest now, no doubt your boss will run you ragged tomorrow."

"Yeah, I know," You sigh and begin to bow, "Have a g-"

"-You don't need to do that," Childe pats your arm to get you to stand up right, "We're more like casual friends, don't you think? Relax a little."

Uh-

"O-Okay," You smile nervously, your habits yelling at you to stop being so expressive with a Harbinger, "Have a good night, Lor-erm, Childe."

"Good night, girlie."

[arsonlookers]

✧ MS. THERAPIST Yandere Childe! Idea ✧

slight suggestive please be warned.

Yandere Childe! who becomes obsessed in love with you because you are his therapist.

Yandere Childe! got sentenced to jail for the same actions of being a total creep and a yandere. sentenced for murder, stalking, attempting kidnapping, assault, stealing, and many more gruesome acts he did.

Yandere Childe! who was very stubborn and murderous after going to jail. yelling that he needs to protect Lumine [the victim of his Yandere acts] and lumine not even planning to time visiting him in jail [i mean who would?]

Yandere Childe! who stops eating and taking care of himself being dishearten by not seeing lumine for the past month and starts starving since then. losing the reasoning to keep living.

Yandere Childe! who meets reader [you] in his 2nd week of staying becomes his personal therapist since then.

Yandere Childe! tried to kill you because he dont want to see anybody except lumine.

Yandere Childe! Who nearly did murder you if not for your fast instinct and taekwondo training you got as a child, and knock him off the ground he was not able to get back up again.

Yandere Childe! becomes more interested in you after that incident keeps apologizing about what happened before and keeps asking you to fight him. To strangle him with your thigh again.

Yandere Childe! who keeps dreaming about the incident and just wants to be in that position again. in between your plush thigh. starts to be more and more interested in your life for some reason

Yandere Childe! who keeps checking you out every time you are there or its therapy session.

Yandere Childe! Who keeps asking you if you have a boyfriend or husband, if you do what they look like, what are their names, The more he is around you the more his questions become personal and creepy.

Yandere Childe! who for some reason starts to become healthy again, and starts to work out inside his jail. starts to show off his hard work abs and all, for some reason starts to become more and more touchy and just keeps asking you to be inside in a room again promising to not hurt you ever again.

Yandere Childe! who now shamelessly dirty talks to you and keeps talking about everything like I mean every thing in his life and how he was obsessed and why he did all of it.

Yandere Childe! who opens up everything where he hides the bodies how he disposes of them, his past trauma, how he got kidnapped, how he stalks and keeps a altar for lumine, E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G.

suggestive warning ahead!!!

Yandere Childe! who shamelessly starts thinking about you in sensual ways, like how he likes to feel your mouth and all around his body. and absolutely in his mouth.

yandere Childe! shamelessly masturbates in front of you or in his cell. like "ahhh~ uggg~ I ~ keep talking!- AHhhh~~mmmm~ your so cute~~ " behind his cell, he is doing all those unholy things

Yandere Childe! keeps asking you to either strip, about your underwear, join him, shamelessly dirty talks while he is pumping his member keeps his eyes on your body and never looks anywhere. just in you and in your eyes, he just keeps talking about "I want to fck you~ mminside that hole~ AHHHhhhh~mmmm~ look at me darling~ look at how you made me feel~ you are making me feel so~ so~ goooood~~ my cute~ sexy! therapist~~ "

Yandere Childe! Who knows that You can't just leave him and ask other therapists to be his doctor because he tells you how he will kill them even behind these bars. if he knows that you actually wanted to leave him [ oh honey he will kill even if it meant to also be the reason of his death]

Yandere Childe! begging for you to just stay with him, "I will be your good boy~ pleaseee~ agggh ~ ummpphh~ " while keeping his hands on his member

Yandere Childe! If you will truly leave him he will find ways to break out of these prison cells. and will search for you even if it means to go travel around the world to search for you.

Yandere Childe! who is rich by the way like he truly has the money. and actually bribes some of the guards in the prison without you knowing. just to keep an eye on you of course .

Yandere Childe! Who actually starts to call you pet names shamelessly like "darling" "baby" "slut" "savior" and many more all these other pet names of his are getting worst by the day.

Yandere Childe! who enjoys how you also slowly start to enjoy his company even if some of it is just absurb and questionable. He also enjoys how he somehow did get you to talk about your past a little bit.

Yandere Childe! who is in prison but actually got some information about you from the outside. he will not tell you that of course.

Yandere Childe! who now found an interesting and lovely woman to obsessed with, to love, to keep him forever and ever may she like it or not. Yandere Childe! who promises you that you will be stuck with him forever. Yandere Childe! who now found another will to live this life of his, found his true purpose, he who accepts that everything that is happening now is FATE that you two are FATED to be together.

Yandere Childe! who behind the cells can still do anything to his power to have you, to control you, to make you stay, to make you love him, your oh so LOVELY PATIENT.

"ms. therapist ~ I need your assistance!~ I feel so lonely would you care to join hmm~ to help me feel better~ help this lonely patient of yours~"

Yandere Childe! will love you forever .,.and actually has a shrine for you outside this prison in his house so yeahhh. hahahaha.

YANDERE CHILDE! who is MADLY in love with you .

so please take care of this sick patient of yours ok? ms. therapist~

✧ahhhh!! my first Yandere writing I never imagined I would write it I'm not really that confident about this one I'm trying something new other than angst so yeahh thank u for reading just a random idea really if there are any grammar mistakes sorry about it. it might be quite messy but I just want to share and had this idea of being his therapist and will be forever stuck being his therapist for life. hehe anyways bye~ - ars onlookers

"ART IS NOT MINE" -from pinterest

♡♡Reblogs and likes are much appreciated!!♡♡

[poksmimi]

FEEDING THE HEAT IN HIM ! " ;pt two

contains; yandere!catboy!scaraxgn reader, yandere, smut, masturbation, dubcon(?), voyeurism, grammar mistakes, riding, unprotected sex(?), not proof read, breeding kink, rough sex(?)

His tongue goes across his teeth, your hand goes faster, your hand now collecting his pre-cum, his cock leaking much than before when he was doing it to himself, after some moments of stroking his dick he finally climaxes, semen lands on your chest and your hand. He growls before he pins you down, his body hovers on-top of you. His hands rush to rip off your underwear, he licks his lips at the sight of your wet-sex, he grabs some of his semen and some of your precum, using the liquids as lube. "aren't ya a pretty sight, baby?" He smirks and his tail wags, the bell ringing as soon annoying so you untie the bell and place on the ground, his dick twitches as he licks his lip. The heat in his stomach, he has a strong instinct to fuck the living out you, cumming inside of your hole so much that you look pregnant. "you look so nice, 'm going to fuck ya real nice.." He looks down at you, eyeing your body and he remembers when he will do anything for you. He will seriously will do anything for you, getting his hands covered in red, bloody just for you. He was going to mess up your guts and make your legs tremble in pleasure, getting you overstimulated, eyes rolled back. His dick thrusts up in you, his hands dog into you, his sharp nails digging into your skin, he has you bent, your hole tightening around his dick. He moans into your ear, he grabs your legs as he fucks you hard, his dick aiming at the spot and puts your legs over his shoulders. "Going to fuck you, come in ya stomach and 'm going to get you so full of my 'm kids." He purrs on your ear, his cat ears twitching and your hole clenches on his dick more harder, he mewls and his dick twitches, you close your eyes and bite your lower lip. Your legs tremble and your moans get louder, totally forgetting that someone else is here in the house. Your hands grip at his shoulders and your tongue is out, eyes are rolling back, he growls and thrusts you in one last hard pound, he purrs and his cat tail stiffens as he holds you, his cum filling your hole up, painting your walls white, you moan and kiss him, tongues mixing together. He still had this hot feeling in his stomach, his dick gets hard and it twitches in you, you smile, knowing that this will last longer and unto morning time. "Love ya so much, 'm getting you full of my sperm, getting you pregnant~" he purrs. He will enjoy this and so will you, the eyes peaking in the room enjoys this sight as well.

[yiiofsh]

✦ . BOYFRIEND TARTAGLIA . ₊ ⊹

⌗ synopsis how bf! tartaglia would treat you, his significant other, whether it would be him spoiling you to funny moments with him.

› content fluff, crack, gn!reader, headcannons, slight ooc

notes .ᐟ first (srs) headcannon & first time writing for tartaglia. hope it isn't too ooc... i fear most of the characters i'll write for in the future will be. anyways, enjoy!

BF! TARTAGLIA who spoils you rotten. he has tons of money to spend, even buying three mansions won't make a dent in his bank. he even encourages you to buy all the things you want, loving to see the smile on your face and the happiness that radiates off of you. though, you tend to reject his money because you don't like the thought of greedily spending all of your significant others money on selfish reasons. even though he knows you don't like spending his money, he sneaks in his card in your purse and reassures you that you can use it whenever. no limit.

you and your boyfriend, tartaglia, were walking through the streets of a current festial being held. looking around, there were tons of stands filled with wonderful and colourful items, and delicious treats beind sold. even with these overhelming stores surronding you, this one place caught your eye. this bright and colourful store sold beautiful dresses, and coincidentally, you needed to buy a new one to attend a friends wedding. tartaglia could see your eyes lighting up once your gaze fixated on the window display of beautiful shimmering dresses. dragging your dear tartaglia in, you browsed through many dresses, long and short, to tight and loose. after trying many on, this single dress had a place in your heart. at the cashier, you were searching through your bag for your card, when suddenly, a pale slender arm reached before you and payed. turning around, you could see a genuine smile on his face. you're stunned, standing with the jaw dropping dress in hands while tartaglia held your hands, guiding your hands out the shop. "you know, (name), don't be afraid to use my money. i have tons for you to spend, plus, it makes me happy seeing you have the things you adore."

BF! TARTAGLIA who is extremely corny. he's the type to try and sway you with flirtatious comments, but it ends up sounding like a middle school boys pick up line. though, his corniness never bothered you. you find it quite cute and funny.

BF! TARTAGLIA who sends/shows you cute memes or trends. he is the type if childish boyfriend who'll send those "us in another universe" types of tiktoks he comes by on tiktok. and trust me, he'll send every single one he sees to you, because it reminds him of you! he is also the type of boyfriend to ask you "would you love me if i was a worm?" and get all clingy whether or not your answer is yes or no. he just loves starting things with you.

"hey, (name), look, look! isn't this video literally us?" turning your head to watch the video presented, a smile slowly creeps onto your face. the video showed two kids playing around with a phone, taking pictures of one another without the sight of an adult nearby. it was truly heartwarming and nostalgic. you turn around to face your beautiful ginger boyfriend, and nod. "yes, childe, this is very much like us!" you reply with a giggle. finding him and the video both cute.

BF! TARTAGLI who steals the blankets and bed space at night. every night you toss and turn, the cold air brushing your porcelain skin, sending shivers up your spine. occasionally, this would make you make up in the middle of the night. every night you would pray that you'd be able to steal the blanket back, but to no avail, his grip was always too hard, making you eventually loose hope. though, this annoying habit would be forgiven for as he is the best at showing his affection by cleaning around the house and cooking you meals.

BF! TARTAGLIA who gets jealous of your plushies. whenever you're sleeping over, you usually bring some stuffed toys for comfort, and also to make it feel like home. though, those said plushies that may make you feel welcomed does not say the same for how tartaglia feels about it. after waking up from sleeping over with him, you leave for your job. after coming back, ready to jump imto the comforts of your boyfriends sheets, a messy and horrible scene unfolds infront of your eyes. shocked, all the plushies you've brought over to cuddle with are on the floor along with obvious punch marks. the culprit? childe. after having a talk with him about it, he gives a half assed apology to you and your plushies. but, the same feat will happen the next day. maybe don't bring other stuff to cuddle with when you have your boyfriend, tartaglia.

› @yiiofsh

[sqquidzz]

"As Long as I'm Here, No One Can Hurt You."

Sanemi x Child!Reader (PLATONIC RELATIONSHIP)

Summary: Sanemi had found you while he was on a mission chasing a demon, covered in the blood of your own family and crying in your house all alone. He decided to "adopt" you and give you a new home.

Tags: Fluff, slight gore in backstory, Sanemi is a good parent, trauma, PTSD, slight mentions of past abuse, soft Sanemi, protective Sanemi, Y/N reminds Sanemi of Genya, loss of parents, adopting, some sadness, swearing, insults (but Sanemi doesn't really mean it) etc.

A/N: Hello readers! I'm so sorry to those following me that I haven't posted as often as I probably should, I just got writers block and lost all my motivation and I forgot to post something for you guys. I hope this will make up for it. I have not written fluff yet, so I'm hoping you guys will have some improvements for me if there are any. And also, thank you to those who are following me, I really appreciate it! About the story now, PLEASE do NOT read this as a sexual relationship, this is only a PLATONIC relationship. But anyways, enjoy!

"Get back here, you brat!"

Sanemi was currently chasing you around the house. After a long year of going on missions, Sanemi finally had a break day. Of course, meaning that he could spend that day taking care of you. And coming back to the scene before us, Sanemi swerves around tables and chairs, trying to get you to get back into your room. Oh, I almost forgot to mention, you were also wearing no clothes.

"Nanana Boo Boo!" you giggle as he dives to catch you, but you jump out of the way, blowing a raspberry at his face, snickering as you run away once again and hide, leaving Sanemi wheezing on the floor from chasing you around.

"You better get back into your room you piece of shit, or else I'll kill you!" Sanemi barks as he rises from the floor, getting up and dusting his pants before searching for you.

"Oi, you better not be fooling around my room you little fuck!" Sanemi yells as he searches your room and comes out empty handed.

However, as he approaches his room, he hears quiet sobs through the closed door. Now Sanemi is getting a little concerned.

"Y/N...?" he calls out gently as he opens the door, the door creaking slightly. He ends up finding you on the opposite side of his bed, curled up into a ball, face in your knees as you cry silently, sobs racking your small frame.

"Hey buddy... what's wrong?" Sanemi asks quietly as he reaches out to you with his hand. But immediately after his hand makes contact with your back, you flinch away, head shooting out of your knees as you look wildly around you as if your afraid the world is hunting you.

"Whoa, I'm not gonna hurt you, see?" Sanemi whispers and holds his hands out.

You slightly calm down at the gesture, but your expression is still wary, still feeling like Sanemi was tricking you.

"You wanna tell me why your crying?" Sanemi asks gently as he attempts to hold your hand again. This time, you don't flinch back, sniffling quietly as you stop crying.

"I- I got scared," you whisper out, "I knew you wouldn't hurt me.... but I couldn't help thinking about what they did to me."

Now Sanemi was confused. Who were you talking about? Who did what to you?

"What do you mean, pumpkin?" Sanemi asks. He always used pet names with you, sometimes they would be insulting, but most of the times, he would call you buddy, pumpkin, things like that that made you feel like he really cared.

"M-my parents used to do things to me," you sniffle, "They always said that it was for the best and I believed them for a while. But what they did hurt so much." You burry your face into your knees again, shoulders shaking from newly sprung tears.

Now Sanemi understood.

He had found you as a baby after your parents had been slaughtered in your house. He decided to take you in himself since he didn't want you to end up being an orphan forever or getting adopted by a bad family (bless his kind heart 😭)

However, he had never thought to ask about your past. He just assumed that you had grown up with a normal family that loved and cared for you. Oh how he was wrong.

"Y-your parents...?" Sanemi whispers as you continue to sob out of fear and grief that your parents had in fact abused you and had neglected your well-being entirely.

By now Sanemi was shaking with fury, but not at you. He was shocked. How could someone hurt someone so kind and joyful? How could they rob you of your happiness?

Sanemi took a deep breath. Now is not the time to get violent.

Instead of asking any further about your past, Sanemi simply wraps his arms around you in firm but loving embrace and you bury your head into his shoulder, letting out all of the tears that you held in for so long.

"It's okay Y/N. You safe with me. As long as I'm here, no one can hurt you," he coos, rubbing your back to sooth you and calm you.

After a few minutes, you calm down, finally running out of tears to shed and you fall asleep in Sanemi's warm embrace.

He smiles down at you, and as he gazes at you, a memory pops into his head

---

"Nemi! Nemi!"

"W-what is it?" Sanemi asks, rubbing his eyes, clearing his vision to reveal Genya.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" Genya asks nervously, "I had a nightmare and I'm really scared."

Sanemi blinks for a moment, then smiles softly and throws his blanket to the side.

"C'mere," Sanemi sighs, and Genya immediately jumps into his embrace, burying his face into his chest. "Don't worry Genya, as long as I'm hear, no one can hurt you.' (sound familiar?)

---

A tear runs down Sanemi's cheek.

He hadn't realized until now how much you reminded him of Genya when he was younger. Cheerful, determined, kind. And especially the fact that you love to sleep. (pointer to those manga readers out there)

Sanemi picks you up in his arms, tucking you into bed and watches as you snuggle the blankets closer, savoring their warmth.

He slowly climbs into bed next to you as to not wake you up, and holding you close, he too, falls fast asleep.

[tartagliad]

hey!! thanku sooo much for doing my request i love it!!! i have a thing for angst so i will request another one!. so can you make part two gn!reader who gets the urge to hurt themselves whenever they got stressed or (in my case) got anxiety attacks? with al'haitham (who has some difficults to deal with since it doesn't happen often), ayato, kaveh, and childe!

aww.. tysm!! I'm so happy that you loved it 🥺.. alright! your request is accepted, I hope you also liked this one ^^ hehe. have a great day, and thank you for the request (✿◠‿◠)

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Comfort and Stress

Summary: the title says it all, a part two to this

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Characters: Alhaitham, Ayato, Kaveh, & Childe

G/N reader!

Warnings: mentions of self harm, hurt, if uncomfortable DNI

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Alhaitham

Honestly, he knows things like these could happened but he never faces it

Until he met you

You're one of those people who usually keep their tasks on hand but at the same time, can be clumsy.

One day, things get a little stirred around your work and it stresses you out

Like literally. Papers here and there and sudden tasks are flowing nonstop

When Alhaitham entered your room, he could see most of the papers aren't organised and you yourself is a mess

He walked to you and checked on you

"y/n." he said with his usual tone, but with a slight hint of concern etch on it

You looked up, and saw him

He can see some scratches on your wrist

Without giving any words, he pulled you closer and comfort you

Honestly.. he didn't know what to do since he spends most of his times alone

But you only told him to hug you and he did that

Just holding you close, and rest your head on his chest

Alhaitham rubbed your back and let you cry or rest on him

You can always rely on him, always

He never judges people, although he can be rather cold

Especially with you, he always accepted for who you are

So, if you need any help, do call him :)

"it's alright.. let it out.. I'm here if you need anything"

Kaveh

Is probably the most understandable and quite experienced (?)

From his lore, we can tell that he's been through a lot

even know he's a renown architect, problems can come and go in his life

So, when you're in the same situation where it's getting too much, you can always tell it to Kaveh

When you're breaking down and have these thoughts, he would hold you close

His soft hands would held yours and rubbing gentle circles on your palm while whispering soft things into your ear

You're so fragile in his arms, your tears were making his clothes slightly wet from it, but he didn't mind.. it's you after all

The last thing he wanted you to do is not tell him and harm yourself

Trust me, he would be damned if you did hurt yourself

even when he first noticed it, Kaveh felt like it was his fault since he didn't kept a close eye on you

So.. don't make him worry, he loves you dearly

"Everything's gonna be okay.. you have me here.. just come to me whether you want a talk or just a hug.."

Ayato

In my head, he is also quite inexperienced (?)

I know he works around people, but his subjects are mostly paperworks and politics

So obviously, feelings rarely come in hand when working on a daily basis

It took him quite a while to know that you're struggling with your life

It's quite on both, you hid it well and he's too busy to notice it

Ayato noticed finally when you two were getting ready for bed

When you changed, he saw a few scratch marks on your wrist

he wanted to think you scratched by something, but the looks like its been done by a bit force

he then noticed how down you look

You're eyes seem a little dimmed than it used to

He then come over to you and wrapped his arms around you

You looked at him in confusion, but he only said, "seems like you need it."

Since he don't have any idea about what to do, he would just let you take the lead and wait for you to tell him something

He's just afraid that he might say the wrong thing to you, so it's best to give you some hugs for now until you're ready

"It's okay.. I'll be here until you get better.. no pressure, dear.."

Childe

Like Kaveh, he knows and understands about it

Well.. childhood trauma from the Abyss..

You can say he has ways of dealing it, either fighting or fishing

Or just have a stroll (like he did in Fontaine)

You were glad that he knows about it and knew how to take care of someone who's like that

It's a heart-wrenching sight for Childe to see you like that

Scars from battles are alright although he prefers to get it on him and not you

But from self harming.. it's the most thing that he loathes

Seeing his loved ones struggled and attempt that can torn him into pieces

He would do anything to make you feel better, even if it's just hugging you while you breaking down

Making your favourite food while telling you about soft things

Or if you want to talk to him, he'll hear your hearts out

Also, he would cut your nails so you couldn't scratch it. Of course that also applies that he would stay around for the next few days until you're completely okay

Just.. don't hurt yourself like that again

Hurting yourself = hurting him (in his mindset)

"now now.. there's no need to do that, princess.. you can always come to me whenever you're sad.."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[serenexdreams]

ETHEREAL | ROYALTY AU | VARIOUS! GENSHIN X READER

GROWING UP AS THE PRODUCT OF A FORBIDDEN ROMANCE between the king and a maidservant of the royal Aurelian family, you, the illegitimate fourth princess of the kingdom have always been left on your own. But things take a sudden turn when the tiny kingdom becomes engulfed in a deadly battle for succession between your older brothers and sisters.

In fear of you being caught up in the fray, your seemingly-distant father sends you off to live with oversea crown relatives--living on the continent of Teyvat. Suddenly, you're whisked away into the opulent and luxurious world of the true aristocracy.

Yet, not everything is as it seems...and thanks to your dreamy, starry-eyed nature, nobody suspects.

Your aunt and uncle seem to cherish you deeply; after bearing the grief of losing their own daughter, you seem to remind them of her...and you comfort them over their loss, winning their favour. When the time comes for the Annual Spring Ball--held at Celestia Palace, in the centre of the seven nations, they excitedly bring you along; marking this ball as not just a celebration of the coming of the aristocrat's social season, but also your debutante.

Your long, wispy lavender gown twirls enchantingly beneath the crystal chandelier's dim glow; a soft, alluring smile spread across your face, as you waltz with handsome strangers. Your H'/C hair flows freely down to your shoulders; framing your soft features.

Your aunt and uncle watch from the balcony with fondness. You've matured into a gentle person; unaware of the gazes you attract...

As the night descends into a full-swing party that would put even the celebrations the gods hold to shame, you slip away into the night; exhausted from all the dancing. The ball now feels suffocating to you, as you must put up a demure act for the approval of your aunt and uncle...and a successful debutante...

But you too, are also human. Your skin is flushed with weariness, as your gaze flits through the various escape routes you can take...

--

ROUTE I: DEVOTION

YOU MAKE A BEELINE FOR THE BACK DOOR, MAKING A DASH for the exit as you lift the hem of your heavy dress; letting out a sigh, while you remove the heels you wear. Your bare feet make contact with the cool, marbled floors of Celestia Palace, while your gaze drifts to the moon. Its white rays shine through the glass pane windows, bathing you in its embrace, as you finally shed your act with a short sigh.

Face dropping into a mischievous smirk, your eyes glint with excitement as you eagerly dart through the halls of the palace; looking for a place to leave from. Surely there's a balcony you can jump off or a little door that servants use to-

You see, you had a rebellious streak. A very long one, too...and one that only one person seemed familiar with. But he wasn't here tonight to stop you, much to your delight. You were left to your own devices; as your relatives busied themselves with their own networking, you were able to roam like a free bird.

Suddenly, with a startled squeak, your forehead bumped against the sturdy chest of another figure, as you scowl; looking up to see a familiar face. It's the chaperone/babysitter your aunt had insisted you bring...your guardian knight, Xiao.

His touseled, dark green locks frame his sharp, cat-like features; as he looks down at you, chest heaving up and down, typically-pristine black guard uniform crinkled. The silver sword strapped to his hip clanked against his leg, as he reached forward; slamming a hand into the wall behind you, as he cornered you. Oh boy--he was mad. You innocently smile back, internally trying to calm down as you slowly back away. You're one of the few people shorter than him--and he always seems to be taking advantage of that. "Oh, hey, fancy seeing you here-"

"....Where are you going?" His voice is harsh and thick with panic, as he wraps a gloved hand around your wrist, pulling you close. His golden, cat-like eyes bore into your soul before he narrows them and glares at you accusingly. "...Were you about to leave? You know it's dangerous for you to wander off on your own, regardless of the circumstances."

You huff, trying to escape from his tight grip, while you pout pleadingly up at the strict knight who's been assigned to you since your early days of royal life back in the kingdom of Aurelian. You look up at him with round, puppy dog eyes. "I was just feeling...suffocated. I just wanted to look around." You smoothly lie, without an ounce of guilt. "...You know how I feel about this whole arrangement. Just this once, Xiao? I promise I'll be back...before the ball ends--maybe. Or not. It depends-you see, I was planning on going to the festival the villagers were hosting outside the palace; I was even going to invite you--"

Xiao interrupts, his eyebrows furrowing, as he sternly draws you closer and flicks you on the forehead. "It's dangerous. The world is much bigger and darker than you think, Y/N. Lying is bad--you think I don't your tricks by now." He deadpans at you, as he lifts you into the air, much to your surprise as you let out a startled yelp. "...What? Your feet are tired, aren't they? I saw how many suitors requested a dance. I'll hold your shoes."

You can feel his toned arms wrap effortlessly around your waist, lifting you to rest in his grasp; with his other hand, he picks up your heels, letting them dangle off of the tips of his calloused fingers in a practised motion. As if he's used to your antics by now. Just like the silent, responsible knight, he is.

You glance down at him in surprise, warmth blooming on your cheeks as you finally relax in his grip, a sheepish and dorky smile spreading across your lips. "Heh, you could say I'm too beautiful--am I right?"

"..." Xiao doesn't respond. But you smirk, as you notice a faint blush spread across his indifferent expression. After all, you had him figured out by now. He had been your knight since your days confined in the royal Aurelian palace; guarding your precious existence. Memories of late-night conversations from your window, little adventures gone wrong, and joyrides on his prized stallion flashed through your mind, as you rested your head on his broad shoulders, eyes swimming in veiled affection.

Despite his overprotective nature, you close your eyes; bathing in his attention. "...my knight. Always so loyal, and by my side, blocking me from trouble." You chuckle, beaming with amusement as you playfully tease him, watching his ears flush pink. This was how most of your conversations with him went, but you paused, nostalgia washing over your typically-carefree E/C irises. "...Though, I should probably stop my behaviour soon."

The memory of your aunt and uncle's excited, hushed whispers as they spoke of the countless men vying for your hand rings through your head. Your free days of soaring through the sky were numbered. And you knew it. Your life was a blissful cycle of dreams, but they wouldn't last forever.

You had duties. And soon you would need to return; back home, back to that suffocating palace across the sea; loved by none, and back to being a powerless princess trapped under the thumb of a new king.

It was either that, or remain under your false alias for the rest of your days; as Y/N Valian. There was no place for your starry heart amongst the sea of perfect constellations in the sky.

"...We can go." He softly mumbles, golden eyes slanting sideways to soak in the image in front of him. Did you really think he--your devoted guardian knight, was going to let you be auctioned off to the highest bidder? Oh, no, you were horribly wrong. He had a plan. But...for now, he'd let you enjoy your time. As long as he was by your side, he was content...no matter what.

Your lovely rose-pink dress now crinkled and folded, hair loose and tangled. Your breathless voice echoed into his ears. He prided himself on knowing everything about you; from what you liked eating, to what your favourite shade of blue was. He liked knowing that he knew all of your secrets; about the time you had launched yourself out the second-floor window and into his arms, to ride away to visit the Liyuean kingdom shores. About the days you had spent, weaving together vines to make a rope and escape the confines of the royale Aurelian palace--even if it was just for a moment. About the night you had returned home from a festival; hair touselled and lips swollen, in a drunken daze, as you pressed your soft lips onto the diamond-shaped, third-eye mark on his forehead.

Xiao was bad with words. And he knew it. But you seemed...to be able to look past those useless flaws of his, and embrace his timid yet stoic nature.

You tilted your head in confusion.

"...Go where?" You whisper back, heart pounding slightly as Xiao turns to face you. The handsome, chiselled smile you love so much is curved across his delicate lips, as he looks at you.

Xiao loved the way you made him feel. At first, you were nothing more than a naive rascal, looking for any opportunity to escape your duties. He disapproved of your lack of effort into proving yourself as the Fourth Princess, dismissing it as mere laziness. A refusal to accept who you truly were; someone destined for glory.

Until he saw the warmth and playfulness of your soul. The wistful, dreamy look in your eyes reflected the purity of this world; like a delicate flower, trying to brave out a storm ripping through its garden of fantasies. And he became your knight--the one willing to tear the storm down and shield the flower, nurturing it with care. You weren't suited for the rough political landscape of succession--despite your capabilities. It was from then on, he swore to protect you; at all costs.

But little birds were destined to fly freely, no? Xiao was content, as long as he could chase after the trail of wind left by your little wings.

"To the spring festival down at the village. I'll go anywhere with you."

--

ROUTE II: DARKNESS

AS YOU TWIRLED TO THE RHYTHM OF THE CHARMING classical music, you felt a soft hand tap at your shoulder. You looked over, realizing it was your aunt--who wore an overdelighted expression. "...Is something the matter?" "Y/N, I'd like for you to meet this young gentleman--a business partner of your uncle and I's. This is Lord Tartaglia; he hails from Snezhnaya, and runs a commercial business under the Tsaritsa." Her gloved fingers dug into your soft skin, as she pulled you closer, and your misty, E/C eyes drifted to the man standing in front of you.

He looked like a prince charming.

A luxurious, white fur coat with a black collar was slung over one of his shoulders; embossed with a gold marking of the Tsaritsa--ruler of Snezhnaya. A symbol of devotion. Beneath the coat, he wore a white dress shirt with gold embroidery and a crimson sash, decorated with more amber chains. Curls of ginger hair had been pulled back to reveal his chiselled, boyish features.

But his fancy, striking appearance wasn't what caught your eye; it was his sharp, calculating eyes. A faded, slate-blue colour that seemed to bore into your soul; trying to decipher your every move. Despite his seemingly cryptic yet friendly smile, you were suspicious; something felt wrong. After all, you knew how to detect an actor--you were one, yourself.

"...It is my honour to greet you, Lord Tartaglia. I am Lady Y/N, of the house of Valian." A fake surname. You had long abandoned the royal last name of 'Aurelian,' instead opting to disguise yourself with your aunt and uncle's noble house. A mere white lie.

Your aunt warmly smiled, subtly pushing you towards the handsome man. Ah. It was obvious what she was hoping for. A match between you both--beneficial for the house and your uncle's sphere of influence. But you preferred your men sweet, not poisonous.

You had heard faint whispers from your little trips outside of the little Valian Manor in the countryside. About the alluring and attractive--yet ruthless man who cut down his enemies with no remorse. About how when his bloodthirst became too much to resist, he'd go haywire. About how he hid behind a mask of deceit, standing before the deep-pocketed nobles of the seven nations, charming them into revealing their secrets.

But you were no fool. The silver dagger sitting under the bodice of your dress, pressed against your waist; reassuring you of your safety. You were safe. You had the weapon--not him.

Lord 'Tartaglia,' smiled back, confidence evident on his face, as he pressed a faint kiss to the back of your hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Y/N. May I request a dance?" His carefully crafted image of a dashing prince had practically wrapped all the partygoers around his finger, as they scowled at you with envy.

You twitched, barely able to contain your emotions as a chill went down your spine, and your stomach churned uneasily. "....You may."

With that, you both descended to the dance floor, hand in hand. Black gloves covered his hands, which you presumed to be battle-scarred. Infamous rumours of his shady dealings in the shadows caused your eyes to warily analyze his every move. His movements were practised and poised; as he easily manoeuvred around the ballroom, taking the lead as you idly chatted with him, out of politeness. "Lord Tartaglia, I assume you are business partners with my uncle. He speaks highly of you."

"Ah, is that so? I'm flattered, honestly." His sheepish reply surprises you, as you try to keep calm; heart thundering with adrenaline as he draws you closer. "The house of Valian has jurisdiction of a small seaside port that my subordinates regularly frequent." His reply was smooth and without a hint of hesitation, as the waltz music quickened and he lifted you into the air, twirling you. Your eyes widened in surprise, as you panicked beneath your serene facade of grace. "Well, now that I've answered one of your questions...shouldn't you answer one of mine, now?"

His voice was playful and cheeky but held ulterior motives. You hesitated for a moment. Sensing this, he continued to push forward. "An eye for an eye, no? Let's drop the formalities.--please, just call me Childe."

"...I suppose you are right." You agreed, averting your gaze from the ginger, whose face remained placid; though you noticed a small, victorious smirk spread across his face. "Though, I don't see what a powerful advisor in Snezhnaya like yourself would want to know about me. My past is quite plain." You remarked as Childe steered you around the dance floor, amidst the envious glares shot your way.

He smirked, eyes glittering with arrogance as he puffed out his chest. It seemed that Childe took this as a challenge.

"Really? Comrade, you must be joking." He chuckled. "How do I even start...Lady Y/N, supposedly a distant relative of the Valian House--yet the head has no children. An unstained yet abstract reputation and an unknown figure to the public...this is your debutante, yet you don't seem nervous. Amongst the few who have seen and conversed with you, they describe you as a demure and soothing presence with an ethereal, soft appearance--which I must say, seems quite accurate."

"But everyone, has secrets, no? Princess of Aurelian..." His lips ghosted against the shell of your ear, as your eyes widened before he gave you an unreadable smile. "Though, naive little girls should stay home...and keep their noses out of my business."

His words, in contrast to his princely image, were crude and uncensored; as you saw him shed his snakeskin.

"...Alright, you've won this time." You frowned, anger bubbling up from your stomach...but you maintained a gracious and elegant attitude. This man was not to be messed with, so it was best you kept your distance--but arrogance was distasteful.

"But I can say the same for you, Lord Childe...or should I say, Ajax?" You boldy leaned forward, voice lined with ice as you softly snarled into his ear. Childe's arms stiffened at once. "Rumoured to be one of the underworld's leaders, and a contributor to the black market. Word is on the street that you're one of the Tsaritsa's top dogs, despite that mask of smiles that you wear to every soiree at Celestia Palace. Said to be an open-minded and earnest individual...yet, many think otherwise. You ought to watch it."

You both were silent for a moment, as the waltz ended and you curtsied, uneasily. Did you go too far?

Suddenly, booming laughter rang out from behind you as you turned around, seeing Childe doubled over, chuckles uncontrollably spilling from his mouth, as he wiped a tear from his eye. "...Pardon me. It seems I severely underestimated you. Care for another dance?"

You narrowed your eyes, but complied--left with no choice, beneath the dozens of eyes staring at your backs. "...Of course. How can I dare refuse?" You flatly replied, allowing him to reach for your hand, as the next song started.

Childe drew you closer, eyes fixed on your face. "I apologize for my rudeness, Lady Y/N. Shall we call it even?" He gently eased you closer, unbeknownst to you.

You scowled. "After you wipe off that blood stain on your glove, Lord Childe. It's been bothering me for a while." You no longer bothered to act ladylike; instead, you lashed out at the Childe. His eyes widened before he hastily ripped off his glove; shoving it into his suit jacket; before looking at you, intrigued.

You were interesting. Amongst the sea of giggling ladies and ambitious noblemen, you had been the only one to refuse to back down...and Childe liked amusement. Whether this was temporary or not--he didn't know. But he knew for a fact that he would be keeping you around for a while. His lips curled into a cunning grin, as he placed a hand on your chin; examining your features. "I didn't expect for a person like you to speak with such crudeness, to a gentleman such as I, Lady Y/N."

Despite your mellow and warm appearance, just like a rose--it appeared that you had your own thorns too. He could feel the faint outline of the dagger stashed beneath your corset, in your dress. You were perfect for him.

"Gentleman? Who? I see none." You replied, unamused. You scowled, cheeks blooming with a furious scarlet red, as a result of your unbridled anger. Childe merely stared down at you, amused.

"Shall we take a trip to the terrace?" He gestured, arm wrapped snugly around your waist, eyes glued to your face. "...So, what's the princess of the Aurelian empire doing so far from home?--ah, you must be cold. Here."

You suddenly felt hands on your shoulders, while he draped his fur coat over your back; shielding you from the night's cold bite. "...Don't act as if you don't already know."

You bitterly replied. It was a touchy subject. "...Family issues. My dearest father, who treasures me oh-so-much decided the best way for me to avoid it was to ship me overseas like a cargo container." Childe snorted, as he stood next to you. "I was fine on my own."

"So I've heard...do you not have anybody you care for?" Childe questioned, eyes glimmering with curiosity as he watched your expression fall, as you mutely shook your head. "Oh come on, comrade, don't lie."

"An eye for an eye." You shot back, leaning on the terrace railing; eyes misty with emotion. It was as if a storm had passed; knocking down your barriers and all you had ever known--leaving an impenetrable, foggy sea mist that couldn't seem to clear out of your mind. "...But yes, I do. There were the servant kids, who used to visit my living quarters with rations and flowers, in exchange for a story."

Childe's eyes softened, as his own mind began to wander. "...Children are lovely. I have extended family back at Snezhnaya, too." He pulled out a photo from his suit jacket. It was a little boy; almost an exact, younger, carbon copy of him, cheerfully waving at the camera. "His name is Teucer."

As you both continued to quietly converse beneath the stars, Childe felt a soothing tranquillity lapse over his battle-hungry soul. An omen of disaster.

Despite the thorns you bared and the hostile attitude, you were a pleasant person...non-judgemental and rational, from what he could tell. After all, you hadn't once tried to pull out that dagger hidden inside your dress. Childe hadn't felt at ease like this in ages.

Perhaps it was because he sympathised with you--being far from home. With nobody but yourself to rely on. Life was cruel, and the burdens it forced humans to bear only increased with time. But around your starry, distant eyes, reality faded away and healed the bruises left on Childe's dark heart.

"..Childe? Lord Childe?" You raised an eyebrow, waving your hand in front of the peculiar man's face, while blinking in confusion. "Childe? Are you-"

"Ajax. Just call me Ajax." His voice cut through your concerned questioning, as his gaze lifted to meet yours.

At once, you realized it. You had made a deadly mistake...and you could only numbly stare, as he reached forward, wrapping one of his arms around your waist and drawing you closer. His eyes swam a variety of emotions; bewilderment, delight, amusement...but most importantly, interest. Sharp interest. In his eyes, you were no longer a meagre extra in the background; now, you were the apple of his eye.

A dangerous smile slowly spread across his face. At first glance, Childe seemed warm; friendly, almost like a familiar friend. But once you had caused his facade to fall and his act to crumble, you were no longer just a disposable pawn.

You were the protagonist in his tale.

"Care for another dance?"

--

ROUTE III: DEFENDER

THE SOFT, WISPY FABRIC OF YOUR DRESS FELT HEAVY--clinging onto your waist and dragging it down, as the cool night wind howled around you; splaying out strands of your H/C hair across your back. You stepped out of the room--weaving your way through the crowd and walking through the golden palace--you hated to admit it, but all the sparkles and luxury were starting to hurt your eyes. You eventually found yourself standing before a grand, twisting, stone staircase; leading to the palace gardens.

Tall, flowering shrubs sheltered your rather short figure from view, as you wandered the lush gardens. The heavy floral scent of roses surrounded a delicate stone fountain, depicting the heavens and the seven nations. Crystallized shards of glittering gemstones were embedded into the statues, as you sat down at the fountain's edge; letting out an irritated sigh. You slowly put down your guard; cheeks puffing, while you removed the silver pins drilling into your scalp.

Finally, you could relax.

You slid down the edge of the fountain--uncaring of the fact that the pink dress was slowly being rubbed against the ground, as you leaned over; trying to pull out the last bobby pin in your hair--wincing as you did so.

Suddenly, you heard it. Footsteps. But before you could react and cover your unladylike posture, you heard a smooth, baritone voice behind you.

"..Ah. My apologies. I didn't realize there was someone already here."

Your head whips around, E/C eyes meeting gold.

Enigmatic, aureate irises drilled deep into your soul; filled with =endless archives of wisdom. The handsome stranger's posture was distinguished and poised; long, smooth locks of ebony hair danced down his shoulders and were pinned together with a single amber stone. He is covered from neck down in a long, umber suit with gold and silver accesories; accentuating his toned, tall figure. Out of all the suitors you've encountered at this ball, he is by far, the most striking you've seen.

"...I-It's fine. You can stay." You turn away, cheeks flushing a rosy pink as you stutter in surprise, quickly trying to fiddle with the bobby pin clamping down tightly onto your scalp.

You feel his gloved hands gently graze your shoulder. "If I may? You seem to be struggling."

Flushing a bright red, you silently drop your arms, letting the stranger work his long, gentle fingers through your head; searching for bobby pins. An awkward silence filters into the garden.

"So, what brings you here?" You question, as you close your eyes; feeling his hands pause, before slowly continuing.

"...I was taken aback by the party atmosphere. It has been a while since I've made any appearances to the public, and I have become unaccustomed to the current trends." The stranger's tone of voice continues to send shivers down your back, as you silently pray for more bobby pins to weave themselves back into your head. "What about you?"

"I...was just tired." You confessed. "Of everything."

You felt your shell crack, as you gazed down at your perfectly manicured hands. "It wasn't too long ago when I was happily living in silence. But life had other ideas for me. My family suggested I attend this ball as my debutante, but I didn't expect it to be so tiring."

"Time waits for no one, but life is about balance. There will be obstacles and events that will throw themselves at the scale of perfection, and attempt to tip the odds in their favour. As mortals, we must push forward and refuse to give in. That is how humanity was formed." His insightful and philosophical response, rather than boring you, comforts you--much to the stranger's astonishment, as he watches you genuinely ponder over his response.

"...'and how the stars came to be.' Is that a saying from the latest book the former emperor, Morax of Liyue released?" Your eyes round with excitement as you lean back against the fountain, gaze cast to the stars.

MORAX. After just two years of a prosperous reign as the stand in for the young crown princess of the Liyue Empire, the young emperor stepped down; handing the role to another, citing it as too taxing; before taking up a disciple.

Namely, the Conqueror of Demons, Xiao--one of the strongest warriors of the kingdom you hailed from. He was a legend amongst the soldiers of the battlefield; for his just and unfaltering moral code.

Trained by the one and only. His public appearances were rare and numbered. But who were you to judge? If you had the option to, you were sure you'd do the same; do nothing but laze around in luxury all day.

The sky is a deep, lazuli colour; reflecting the eternal slumber of the heavens. You feel like a speck of dust in an overbearing colony of dust bunnies, while you watch the perfect formation of constellations shift throughout.

The scent of your nanny's cooking. Your little room; tucked away at the edge of the palace's extended annexe. Cramped but providing you with all that you needed, despite the sharp and scornful gazes tossed your way. The blooming field of untamed wildflowers, rapidly sprawled throughout the annexe's garden.

You missed it all. But you had to push. For the sake of your own life. "...Your advice was insightful. What's your name?"

"...Its Zhongli. May I inquire for yours?" Zhongli questions, golden eyes swimming in a matured pool of perception, while he takes a seat on the fountain rail.

You smile. "It's Y/N."

The conversation you have with the captivating man is deep and thoughtful; as you navigate through various subjects--all of which he has profound knowledge in. Stories about old Liyuean folklore, the best methods to cook bamboo shoots, and how to make a fortune selling glaze lilies in the city if you ever went bankrupt. He knew it all.

You both chat for hours; even as the sun begins to rise, peering over the slumbering and drunk palace, chasing away the darkness of the night. Its golden, amber hues of pink and orange churn with the eternal darkness; producing a brilliant sunset.

Was love, at first sight, a real thing?

You didn't know. But you knew if you did believe it, it would be with him.

Zhongli's patient and calming voice speak of a friend. Long forgotten and buried six feet under; a victim of a vicious assassination attempt which caused her body to crumble. Guizhong, was her name; another word that rolled off your tongue in an odd manner.

"...Her music warmed the very tips of my heart. I was foolish. Had gone minutes earlier..."

His eyes close for a brief moment, amber eyes filled with raw sorrow, as you frown; hesitating for a moment. "...Human life is not endless. The cycle must continue; lost time cannot be found again, but these memories can be stored in the archive of one's heart."

You gently place a hand on Zhongli's heart; feeling his heartbeat. It's serene yet rapid, thumping softly as he gazes into your eyes. .

Zhongli didn't know why he felt like this.

Like a newborn child, gazing up with wonder at the radiant sun. Your eyes seemed to exude genuine empathy. Your E/C irises shimmered beneath the sunrise's stare; twinkling with fresh fruits of intellect. They drooped, half-lidded as you let out a yawn; and Zhongli scooped you into his arms, cradling you securely. You blinked, in a sleepy haze.

"...I feel like we've met before. You..." It suddenly clicked. "You're a year older than me. Didn't you teach my knight, Xiao, swordsmanship?"

Zhongli pauses, slowly replying. Ah. It all clicked now. "Yes. I didn't recognize you...Lady Y/N."

It faintly clicked in your mind, as you did a double take; staring at him. Ah. It all made sense now. His perfect and dignified appearance. His sympathy. The way he had managed to effortlessly take your breath away.

He was the young boy who you had watched raise Xiao from the second he learned to grip a sword. And not just him either--he had taught you to appreciate literature, paint, and more. How to ride a steed, act around the rest of the royal family, and most importantly; how to love.

Zhongli seemed to be deep in thought as well; as he studied your face.

A downcast, timid stare. Your fingers, shyly reaching out to tug at his sleeve. The image of the flames engulfing your quarters back at the Aurelian Kingdom, the last time he had visited...

And he held you, tightly, eyes glowing with relief. You had changed and matured, during the time he was away. Your eyes were as clear as glass, reflecting the desire to fly. To be free. To love.

Like a glaze lily in full bloom. No wonder you had been able to so easily touch his heart and make it flutter. Zhongli had always hated it when the past came back to creep in and chip away at his sanity. The smell of overbearing smoke, clogged his nostrils as he ferociously tore through the battlefield; reaching your homeland, only to watch as more bloodshed occurred. As more soldiers clashed against each other in the battle for succession, burning down the extended castle annexe.

He made a silent contract with you, as you both entered the palace again.

"...This time, the fates will not separate our bond."

[pigeonpeach]

Yandere academy Childe x Onee-san reader

A/n please read: hello! This is fanwork of another writers au aka @yestrday ‘s yandere genshin academy au. I heavily recommend binging their stuff its really good. In particular this piece takes on the sort of onee-san (big sister) route where basically y/n /reader spends most of their time taking care of the first years and overall just being a big ol sweetheart. I just LOVED how the author depicts the older students reacting and getting all jealous over not having y/n’s full attention so i had to write something. Of course i did put some of my own traits into y/n. My favs were Childe and Zhongli so i might write a version with Zhongli instead if i get the inspo.

Cn: not much really, childe is a lil creepy and touchy but y/n is kinda into it lowkey. I cant write make out scenes but theres still alot of it. Also minor mentions of hurt with bennett.

Who could possibly hate l/n y/n. A third year student with a great reputation and grades. Lots of friends, and lots and lots of admirers. But their kindness was their most beloved trait. Y/n always packed extra food for lunch in case a dear friend had forgotten or lost theirs. Y/n often helped out at the nurses office and seemed to have the most soothing voice as they’d patch up students who could be sobbing and shaking. In general they were a well liked and somewhat popular student so it was no surprise they had plenty of admirers. If only they had as much time as Y/n’s biggest flaw was also their kindness. It never felt good to turn people down. Especially when they themselves would love to spend time with their fellow seniors. However they knew Bennett would be sulking if he didn’t see them at lunch today. It honestly left a poor taste in their mouth having to turn down Venti’s offer of a picnic at lunch today. But they didn’t want to pass by the nurses office again and see him in there. Y/n’s heart was solid gold but gold itself is a weak metal that can easily bend.

What was supposed to be a picnic with Childe ended up getting canceled last minute as you held a bruised Bennett in their arms. Wrapping the bandages around tightly but not too tight. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to knock over all those chemicals in the science room!” No matter how exhausted you were though, you never seemed to get tired of Bennett, he was such a lovable little kid, you couldn’t help it. Taking care of people was just a natural instinct within you, which made you get along splendidly with Bennett who more often than not needed taking care of. “Its not your fault Benny I know. I don’t blame you one bit, I’m just glad none of those chemicals were dangerous.” You were finally finished with the last of the bandages and gave Bennett a little kiss on the cheek. “Now you’ll probably be in the nurses office for awhile, I’ll go bring you back some lunch okay? Just wait here”Bennett, his face turned a delicate pink as he eagerly shook his head.

You smiled as you exited out the door. Your tranquility was soon interrupted as you made your by a sudden tug backwards. You could barely blink before feeling your back pinned up against the lockers.

“You’re really messing with me aren’t you~ I hardly get to have any time with you nowadays and you go off to play nanny with that first year!” Childe’s fist was clenched tightly next to your head resting against the cold metal. “I was looking forward to our little date today, you had me thinking I could finally have a second of your oh so precious time and then you run off to comfort him!” He pressed himself into you trapping you against the locker.

“Okay I’m sorry about forgetting but you’re acting psychotic! What on earth are you trying to pull here huh? We’re still at school you dumb-aAH!” You barely got to cover your mouth as Childe eagerly bit into your neck. You bit your lip out of shock, you could barely focus on anything, you hadn’t exactly ever done this before. To witness Childe in such a primal and instinctual mood felt so intimate. You were almost flattered that simply forgetting a lunch hangout had been enough to get him so worked up over you... The sensation of Childe possessively biting into your neck,You could feel your resolve and hesitation melt as you try one last time to pry him off. Finally with a wet smack of his lips he gleefully pulled back revealing a big bruise right on your jugular, out in the open, unable to be hidden with the collar of your uniform. He grinned with a smile you could only describe as manic. Why was it kind of hot though-

“Y-you… You IDIOT! What am I going to do if the staff see this! Gosh I knew you were careless but i didn’t think you would be downright stupid!” Childe basked in pride at your reddened face. As you quickly opened your locker trying to find a jacket of something to cover with.

“Oh please, this wasn’t careless at all. I made sure no body was coming around these parts at this time. And besides, I have a scarf you could borrow if you’re really that insecure about it~” He pressed his mouth right against their ear. You practically died inside then.

“You better! I could get expelled if the school thought I was doing something indecent! I’m not wasting my scholarship just because you’re a little pent up you know?” You practically tugged the scarf off of his and lazily wrapped it around yourself. You were ready to chew him out again when he fixed the scarf to look more presentable. Your cheeks were warm and pink then. He chuckled.

“See? you really have been depriving yourself haven’t you, all this work just to keep that first year alive, you keep rejecting and rejecting my offers,saying you’re ‘just too busy today or maybe tomorrow’ when deep down I can tell you want nothing more than to let me take advantage of you~” He sneaked a quick peck at your cheek making you blush even more.

“Y-you’re wrong! Ah! Stop trapping me against the locker I’m trying to use it! Besides its super inappropriate!” Although, it did feel kind of nice being in his grasp. You spent practically your whole week helping Razor and Bennett prepare for some big tests in Chemistry, and your whole year so far was practically baby sitting the first years which as much as you enjoyed, wasnt always so... rewarding, it could get draining at times to be relied on too much, there was something about just pressing your back against the warm embrace of Childe that made those worries melt. You felt so… so.. desirable. You knew alot of your male peers sought after you romantically but you had no idea he was so desperate just to be with you, who wouldn’t be flattered to be so utterly wanted.

“My my, I didn’t think you would be this easy to wind up girlie, I thought you would have alot more fight in you but aside from your mouth you’re practically just begging for me. I can just tell you’re enjoying this. So why don’t you cut the talk, just let me spoil you for today hm? I’ll forgive you then for forgetting our picnic?” Childe’s hands ran up your curves leaving you to hiss in shock. His pelvis pressed oh so tightly as he pinned you to the locker infront of you.

“You..you’re really not giving up are you?” You turned your head around to weakly scowl at the smug ginger. Which he then proceeded to take the opportunity to kiss you on the lips, the last of your resistance practically melted then, worst case scenario the bell goes off and he HAS to leave then surely. He couldn’t be that dense as to continue past lunch surely! You hear his muffled chuckles as he deepened the kiss and tighten his grip on your waist. His other hand slamming against the locker keeping you from sliding out. You couldn’t help but just wrap your hands around his neck which caused him to jolt in surprise. He pulled away briefly just to look into your embarrassed face.

“I didn’t think you were that touch-starved! Don’t tell me those first years don’t know a thing or two about romance! You devote so much to them and they dont even know how to hold you right?”He laughed. You scowled.

“I-i don’t see them that way! Besides I just like taking care of people its just… I haven’t.. really.. had the chance to… be taken care of like this…you’re.. fuck just shut up and kiss me or I’ll find someone else to!” You practically dragged him back into the kiss much to his delight. He eagerly continued with the session as you let him devour you. However he pulled away a bit too soon for your liking.

“You’re perfect for me you know? Every little thing about you just enamors me sometimes. I know you feel the same too, I can tell you want this, you want me to pick you up in my arms and take you away from all thi-MPHHHff.” You pulled him by his tie back into the kiss. You didn’t have the patience to listen to his rambles. You’ve been deprived of affection for so long and if Childe was going to bother you then you might as well drain him for all he’s got to offer right? At least he seemed all the more willing. He pressed himself so tightly against you that you were convinced he was trying to absorb you. Your hands wrapped around his neck. It felt so… so

RING!!!!!!! Snapping you out of your touch starved craze was the lunch bell signaling the end of lunch and your little.. session with Childe. Catching Childe off guard, you pushed him off finally separating yourself from him as you got your lunch box and ran off to give it to Bennett. Leaving Childe a sweaty and riled up mess. Leaning against the opposite locker he grinned like a cheshire cat.

After dropping your lunch off to Bennett who luckily did not recognize your scarf, you raced to your class and made it just in time. You very shamefully sat down in your seat knowing at least a good chunk of the people here recognized who’s scarf you were wearing, but it was better than them seeing that bruise he left. You could practically feel Scaramouche’s gaze burrowing a hole in your head. You only hoped this class would be over before he decided to strangle you with the darn scarf.

[slothgiirl]

deferred duties (childe x reader)

2.2k. flirting. cringe fail childe. no use of y/n. sangonomiya reader. this is my first time writing fro childe so idk how in character it is ngl. probs lots of spelling errors bc thats my brand. reader is implied to be a few years older than childe (i was thinking early twenties childe late twenties reader). ayatos there too ig.

The fact that the 11th Harbinger made no move to capitalize on the infighting and fractional splits in Inazuma put you on edge. The Tenryou commission continued to be leaderless since the Raiden Shogun had yet to appoint anyone into position of commissioner only caused more strife. Ambitious Samurai and noble families alike saw the power vacuum as their opportunity to rise, haining power and influence following the downfall of the Kujou clan. The peace the Divine Priestess had brokered came with its own complications leaving you in Inazuma City to advocate for Watatsumi Island. This had not been what you had in mind when you swore to protect your younger cousin as a shrinemaiden. 

“With international trade resuming we finally have pumpernickel again,” a noble jokes and you dread the punchline. “It pairs deliciously with salmon roe.” He meets your gaze, “I mean no offense Shrinemaiden. Your people are quite close to fish, are they not?”

This again.

Really. 

There was no way the Harbinger wasn’t gaining an angle. Why else would the Cryo Archon send Childe instead of a fatui regiment to collect a body? This was below his purview. 

“Truthfully I’ve never cared for salmon roe,” you reply back evenly, “the texture is off putting,” you choose a piece of fugu on rice instead, uncaring about the preparation. More than one speculated assassination in Inazuma history had been carried out by botched fugu but you had long since built a tolerance to the poison.You smile pleasantly, barring your white teeth at the man. 

Inazumans loved to remind the people of Watatsumi Island that they were not the same. As if Watatsumi Island was lesser. No. You had your pride. 

Had your people not proved their strength when they alone stood against the Raiden Shogun? Had the citizens of Inazuma City not sought asylum in Yashiori Island? 

The nobleman looks away first. 

Good. 

You’re about to thoroughly humiliate him. His fur trim around the kimono’s collar was Scheneznayan mink, not the prized Inazuman fox which could only be gifted by pleasing a kami and as such the piece would be passed down through countless generations. Of course that’s when the lone Fatuus at the event decides to speak. 

Childe, barreling through political intrigue as usual, tells you, “Then you’ve never tried sturgeon roe. I would be more than willing to give you a tin to try as long as you share,” he winks, smiling casually as ever. 

You had to admit it was endearing how he kept at it. Either Childe’s ego was overly  inflated or he was simply that confident that he could win you over. (Both were incredibly likely.)

Without missing a beat, you reply in saccharinely sweet, “I’m sure General Gorou would love to try a new type of roe Lord Tartaglia.” 

Childe’s smile sharpens, more genuine than his usual patronizing smile and laugh. “Comrade,” he places a hand over his chest in mock pain. “That was cruel even for you.”

You roll your eyes, abandoning the bureaucrats for Commissioner Kamisato. 

Undeterred, Childe follows at your heels. 

A passing thought makes you wonder how true his actions were. 

It was dangerous for anyone in your station to wear their emotions so readily, where anyone could see your weakness. It must be doubly so on the international stage the Harbinger’s worked on.  

Ayato tilts his glass of sake at you, “Shrinemaiden Sangonomiya.” 

“Commissioner Kamisato,” you incline your head respectfully. Ayato was a better man than most, though his interests were not your own, so you would never fully trust him. 

“That’s a mouthful,” Childe notes idly. 

“An astute observation, Lord Harbinger Tartaglia,” you reply pleasantly. Perhaps his aim was less concrete than the dead Harbinger, merely to sow discord in an already tense situation. Plant the seed of suspicion that the Divine Priestess remained allied in some form with the Fatui. 

Childe pouts, “there’s no need to be so formal Comrade. Not with me.”

He was too himself to be smooth in his flirtations. 

It made you wonder about his experience. He was only a handful of years younger than you. Childe was undeniably handsome in a rugged way, tousled hair and easy manner. He swaggered about Inazuma, uncaring of the scorn and glares he received from the shopkeepers. 

There had to be someone who’d been charmed. Some green girl back in his country who could overlook his bloodthirsty remarks? 

“A kind gesture Lord Tartaglia,” you say with finality, wanting to interrogate Ayato now that you had him cornered, “but I only wish to show you the proper respect that is due a man of your station.” Words were such an effective weapon. 

Childe splutters, blinking, processing. His ears have turned an interesting shade of red, darker than his copper hair. 

You take the opportunity to turn the tables on Ayato. “I have heard troubling reports that my requests with the Kanjou Commission have been blocked. I only seek to finally work towards the solution Kujou Sara and the Divine Priestess spoke of when it comes to importing and exporting. It does no one in Inazuma any good to tax goods entering and leaving from Watatsumi Island as if they were from another nation, wouldn’t you say?”

You know it’s Ayato’s doing. To what end is the question. 

“A most unfortunate situation indeed,” he replies evenly. 

“Matters such as these only stall the work to restore Inazuma from its wartime state.” You really weren’t looking to be difficult. The Kamisato clan had worked towards overturning the Vision Ban decree. Still, bitterness remained. It had been your people who had subsisted on rations, who had been on the front lines. 

“I agree with your sentiments entirely, Shrinemaiden.” 

A nonanswer. 

“The Tsaritsa would never allow such an arrangement,” Childe muses sedately, “insurrection and special administrative zones.” 

You frown. Neither had the Electro Archon. Orobaxi has been slain not long after raising your people from Ekanomiya. 

Ayato is quick to craft a response. “It is all thanks to the Raiden Shogun’s benevolence that she tolerates the many forms of worship and cultures unique to each island.”

Childe scowls, “it’s a tenuous peace at best if the nation is not united.”

“Even if it is by force,” Ayato asks pointedly. 

“If it means an eternity of peace afterwards,” the fatuus shrugs. You’d have preferred fervent zealotry to this casual acceptance of the Tsaritsa’s worldview she had no doubt ingrained in every Schenezayan since birth. Inazuma was not as liberal as Mondstadt but questioning the Electro Archon’s will was hardly cause for arrest. 

“The Raiden Shogun is wise to allow plurality among her people,” you say as a matter of fact, “otherwise the Fatui’s undermining of Inazuma’s government might have continued on undiscovered.”

Childe shrugs, “I won’t complain if it means she doesn’t strike you down Comrade,” he flicks your ear which once again strikes you as inexperienced if this is the best way of flirting he can come up with, “I’d hate to see you a charred corpse like Signora. . .bloodshed is more satisfying.” His blue eyes gaze past you, daydreaming of battle and running his hydroblades through a worthy opponent. 

By now, you know Childe enough to write off his words. It wasn’t a threat. You don’t think he’d threatened much, simply get to the point and draw arms. No, this is just Childe being Childe. The quirk didn’t even bother you. 

Yes, he was bloodthirsty, but he was not an uncontrollable mad dog. 

All the same, Ayato takes pity on you. “If I may do so without overstepping, may I have this dance Shrinemaiden?” He holds out his hand, ever the gentleman. Of the Inazuma bureaucrats, you liked him the most. 

You sense Childe fidget besides you. 

“I appreciate your concern over my vows, but I assure you a dance will not break them,” you place your hand in his, letting him lead you to the dance floor. This way you could have a private conversation over the Kanjou Commission’s laws governing Watatsumi Island trade. 

~~

You had arrived earlier than anticipated onto Ritou Island. It would be some time before your meeting with the Kanjou Commission. 

Already, you had memorized the terms, the concessions you were willing to make, and what you refused to bend on. Trade negotiations were not so different from battle strategy. Kokomi’s military treatises applied here too. 

You wondered how your cousin was managing back home as you walked around the beach of Ritou Island. 

You were not at all surprised to run into Childe. Kujou Sara had sent notice of yet another departing squad of Fatui soldiers. In fact, the small part of you unfettered by duty and loyalty was thrilled.

“Comrade!” Childe grins, a touch of softness in his blue eyes you don’t want to think too hard about. (There were lines that could not be crossed.) 

“Lord Tartaglia.” You greet him easily.

He clicks his tongue. “Haven’t we been over this,” he waves a hand between you and him. 

You arch a brow, “and yet proprietary must be observed. I am surprised you are not used to it, given your role, I imagine you deal with the political arena more than me.”

Childe rolls his eyes, scrunching up his nose as he closes the distance between you. “Yes. I’m quite sick of it. The double meanings and bullshit.” You can see the freckles dusting his skin, a light scar on his jaw that was no doubt healed by a skilled allogene. 

“I thought I’ve been very clear?”

“No,” he nods, “you have. Which is why I’d much rather you call me Childe.” His smile is sweet and teasing and you can’t help the way your heartbeat speeds up. 

“There’s no difference.” Both were aliases. 

“Indulge me.” 

“No,” you shake your head, looking out over the water. “I don’t think I will.” You smirk, “it would set a terrible precedent.” 

“Ha, probably,” Childe admits in the same sort of brutal honesty he often spoke in. “Not that you mind Comrade.” To prove his point, he wraps his arm around your waist.

“I haven’t decided that yet.” 

This could never be anything but a fling for you. You had sworn vows after all. It would be alright if you and Childe were on the same page. (His stay in Inazuma was short after all.) 

Childe pulls you close, while looking towards the horizon. With clear skies, you could just make out the peak of Dragonspine. 

His body was warm against yours. 

You swallow, steadying your breath. 

“The water around Inazuma is so clear,” he comments nonchalantly, “perfect to spill blood in.” 

You snort. 

Childe is so. . .

“You’d make a much better Divine Priestess.” 

There’s no way to interpret that but as a threat against your cousin. You turn to look at him. “Kokomi led us to victory. The Shogun’s army would have crushed ours if not for her. Besides, I have no ambition to be Divine Priestess. It’s a huge burden.” You knew how exhausted Kokomi was all of the time. 

Childe frowns. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’d do better. It would be easy enough to defeat her.” He sucks on his bottom lip, looking every bit an excitable child, “I’ve never fought a descendant of a god. But I have fought gods.” An offer.

Only you weren’t sure if this was a personal affair or Fatui plot. 

You flick his ear. “Careful Childe. If you threaten my cousin it’ll be your blood in the water.” It was no secret Kokomi was your cousin by blood. 

“Promise,” Childe asks, voice gone breathey. 

You try to ignore the flush to his cheeks, the fondness in his dead eyes, the way his fingers had tightened against your waist, digging into your skin. It was hard when your own skin felt aflame. His attention, knowing Childe wanted you so clearly; it made your thoughts all fuzzy. 

“That is how threats work,” you pause, “Childe.”

He grins, leaning in, meaning to kiss you. Instead, Childe bumps your nose with his. 

You wince. Not that he’d put you off. No. You liked Childe. You could be honest with yourself about that much. His eagerness; the way he spoke candidly; the expanse of pale freckled skin visible along his abdomen: it was a pity about the Harbinger business. Still, a fling wouldn’t hurt. Childe’s inexperience sent sparks down your spine as you imagined what it would be like to teach him how to please you: to bite down on his bottom lip until it bled. 

Childe flushes scarlett as he steps away. He rubs your nose bridge with his thumb, “apologies comrade.” He attempts to play it off, chuckling, but his eyes keep flicking from your face to the ground. 

You can’t help yourself. You reach up, pinching his cheek, “Eager aren’t we?” 

“Heh. Well yeah.” The ginger man practically swoons. 

You laugh, patting his cheek before indulging yourself and raking your fingers through his moussed hair. “So you are self aware.”

“I wouldn’t make a fool of myself for just anyone.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Or offer to usurp their Priestess cousin,” you reply archly, shoving him away.

Childe blinks. He looks you over. “You’re right. A woman like you,” he licks his lips, “you’d be the Divine Priestess if you wanted to already.”

Ignoring the heat under your skin, you turn away from him, intent on resolving actual matters and not arriving late to your meeting. (It was more fun this way.)

You didn’t want to think about how you’d miss Childe when the last of the Fatui troops loose on Inazuma soil (illegally all thanks to Signora) were rounded up and expelled from your country.

[gabriel-xander]

I Wish You Died Instead Ch. 3

[Scaramouce x Fem!Reader]

A/N: I started writing this before all of his lore came out/Before the last Sumeru Archon quest, so there will be a handful of inconsistency later on. My advice to you? Just go with it!

{Also on Quotev, Ao3, and Wattpad under Gabriel Xander}

Chapter 3: Farewell From Snezhnaya

“Don’t forget to change your clothes to something lighter as you get close to Liyue.”

“[L/n]-”

“Try not to move around the ship too much, you don’t want to get seasick so quickly and so often.”

“[L/n].”

“Stay hydrated, too! You’ll get thirsty faster since it’s pretty warm in Liyue.”

“[L/-”

“A-And don’t get in unnecessary trouble! I don’t want you to-”

“-[Y/n]!”

Kazuki grabs your hands from where they were nervously tugging at the collar of your uniform. He was one of the few who have yet to board the ship since Childe has yet to actually arrive.

You’re nervous about letting Kazuki go. He’s been your best friend since you two were kids, joined at the hip since the age of 7. It’s not so much the fact that you’re scared to let him go, or scared that he might get hurt or-Archons forbid-die in Liyue. Kazuki is a strong fighter blessed with a Pyro Vision and is a skilled fighter with a claymore. He's more than capable of taking care of himself.

It’s just…

Kazuki is your person.

You two didn’t have your masks on at the moment, but not having it made you feel exposed and it caused you to look away from him.

“‘M gonna miss you, Nao.” You admit quietly.

The brunette smiles and pulls you close for a hug, “I’m going to miss you too, [Y/n]. I’ll try to send letters as often as I can, I promise.”

“You better,” You reply, clutching the fabric of his coat, “Or else I’ll go to Liyue myself to kick your ass.”

“Aw, just for me? Am I just that special to you, [Y/n]?”

“Shut up, Nao. I’d trade you for a sip of water.”

You two pull away from each other with a laugh, beginning to feel a little better about the departure.

You shiver when a particularly strong breeze rises up, but that shiver was from a sudden tension rather than the cold as your stomach drops to your feet. You immediately summon your claymore (You don’t remember what it was called, Nao had gifted it to you. Prototype… Archi? Archaic? Something like that) and hold it above your head just in time to clash against-

“CHILDE?!”

Childe used his Hydro to create dual blades that clashed against yours. He uses the leverage to push himself back, dissolving the weapons and creating a polearm instead. You send your claymore back into the aether and jump to the right when Childe throws the spear at you.

The spear dissolves and some of it gets on you, making you colder than you would’ve liked. Childe stands away, summoning his bow oh so casually.

“Lord Childe!”

“Yes, [Y/n]?”

“Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“Permission granted!”

“What the fuck, dude?!!”

Childe laughs at you, doubling over while you just look at him confused. You’re literally just trying to exist but this ginger man really said fuck that noise.

“With all due respect, I don’t stand a chance against you,” You grin to mask your anxiety, “You’d kill me in a second.”

“Don’t talk like that! Not all battles’ purposes are who wins and who loses. In this case, the experience is most definitely the most important part.”

“?? Yeah, that’s cool and all but I still ain’t tryna fight you, Childe,” You wave your hands frantically as you start sputtering, “Pff-Uh-And anyway! Don’t you have a boat to board in like, right now??”

Childe laughs again and walks towards you, letting his bow disappear back into the aether. You sense the tension has left his body, so he’s probably not planning to attack but you stay on guard anyway.

The ginger stops right in front of you and pats your shoulder, “You have such a bright personality, [Y/n]! I definitely like this easy going side of you more than the facade you have for your boss. It’s refreshing to see someone as honest as you in a place like this.”

You clench your fists by your side and look away. You don’t want to be chummy or friends with anyone from the Fatui. Kazuki is the only exception for obvious reasons… You can’t allow Childe to be another exception as well.

“You’re also strong, [Y/n]. I can already see so much potential in you, and that’s not a bad thing. You can’t let someone like Scaramouche scare you into hiding that potential away. Only you can decide if you’ll use it for good or evil,” Childe smiles softly, “You’re a soft soul, don’t let the world or anyone else turn you into something you’re not.”

Your heart races from his words, praying to the Archons that he won’t be the cause of your sudden change of heart. It’s not as if you convinced yourself that you needed to be a cold bitch to survive…. but you convinced yourself that you needed to be a cold bitch to survive.

“Why are you telling me this?” You finally get the courage to look the Harbinger in the eyes, “You don’t even know me.”

But as kind as Childe is being to you (right now), his words alone can’t suddenly make all your problems go away.

“You’re right, I don’t. But I’d like to!” Childe laughs and pats your back, “You’re the only interesting person here! Honestly, it’s a shame I didn’t get a second meeting with you sooner.”

You sigh with exasperation. Childe is a type of person who goes after what interests him and stops at nothing until he’s satisfied. You suppose your potential friendship falls under that category.

“This is damaging to my reputation,” You say without any real bite to it.

“Reputation?”

“Yeah, of being a loner.”

Childe cocks his head to the side, humming quietly in thought as he crosses his arms.

“My Lord,” Kazuki (poor boy was third wheeling the whole time) steps up from behind you, “I got word that we have maybe a few minutes to board the ship before it leaves. It won’t wait for us any longer.”

Childe pouts ever so slightly, "Didn't I tell you to call me 'Liege' instead?"

You turn around and throw your arms around Kazuki’s neck, not caring for professionalism at the exact moment. You feel his arms go around your waist, squeezing you lightly for one last hug.

“You behave,” You mutter, “Don’t go picking fights. and don’t do drugs.”

“Yes, mom.” He groans.

“Ugh, don’t call me mom. You’ve seen me naked too many times to call me that,” You joked, but did you really?

“Mommy?”

“No.”

You went to pull away, but Kazuki squeezes you again. Your face morphs into embarrassment, not used to Kazuki showing you more affection than you show him. You pat his back and chuckle.

"Hey, come on. Don't get soft on me," You grin, "This is uh… ah-hahaha, 'is kind of embarrassing."

"Sh. Let me have this. Haa man… I wish I didn't have to go."

"Why do you have to go? You're not even his direct subordinate."

"Oh, that's because Kuzuzushi is my hype-man!" Childe says with a smile.

Kazuki pulls away with a heavy sigh, "It's Kazuki, My Liege."

"Wait-what do you mean he's your hype-man?" You ask quickly.

The brunette deadpans, "Are you only bringing me along to… hype you up??"

"Yeah! Isn't that great?"

HOOOOOONNKKK!!!

The boat's horn sounds loudly as the walkway is dropped, separating the ship from the docks.

Childe takes your hand and puts something on your palm. You don't get to see it since he moves your fingers to close it to a fist. He keeps that hand into his, smiling warmly while leaning his face close to yours.

It would've given you butterflies if you weren't consciously aware that this man was dangerous and has killed people before. Of course as always, the light never reaches his eyes no matter how sincere his smile was.

"Remember, [Y/n]. It's your life, and you get to decide how you use your own strength and power," Childe says with conviction, "Don't let people like Scaramouche scare you from being who you are. I look forward to seeing the type of person you decide to become when we meet again."

"I… Childe-"

"-My Liege, they're leaving without us! We have to go now!"

"Right! Let's go Kazuki!"

"It's Ka-actually, you got it right."

Letting go of your hand, the Harbinger and the agent run to the docks. Kazuki and Childe use their Visions to propel themselves into the air. Childe's Hydro almost immediately freezes due to the Snezhnayan weather. You see the ginger subtly lean towards Kazuki when they grab onto the side of the boat. Most likely because of Kazuki's Pyro Vision.

"Hype me up, Kazuki!" You hear the ginger say as he climbs up the side.

"Uhhh-FUCK IT UP, MY LIEGE!!"

"WOOHOOOO!!"

…

Boys will be boys, you suppose.

You look down at your hand to see what Childe had put there. You widen your eyes when you see it's one of his red earrings. You snap your head up to find Childe. He was already on the boat, safe and sound. You jog to the docks to get a closer look at the ginger who was watching you.

Sure enough, Childe was missing his right earring, the left one dangling from his ear almost mockingly.

You can't see the expression he's making, but from his energetic waving, you (correctly) assume he's grinning like an idiot. Kazuki was next to him, giving you the forbidden finger.

Fucker.

You're the only loser left on the dock, but you don't care. You watch them leave until you can't see people on the ship anymore, feeling a little warm from standing in the cold for so long.

That's probably a bad sign.

----

"Why the hell are you late?"

"I almost died of hypothermia."

"Well, cut it out. We have things to do," Scaramouche frowns as he walks past you, "I gave you the favor of seeing off your comrades before they left. But now break time's over, you're back on the clock."

You hate this. You roll your eyes behind your mask and follow him out the office.

"Do you remember where that camp was located? The one the Treasure Hoarders are hiding at?"

"Yes, My Lord. Would you like me to prepare departure for today?"

"Yeah, but don't bring anyone else. It'll just be you and me. Everyone else is just incompete-... What the hell is that."

You frown while tilting your head to the side, "Sir?"

"That's Tartaglia's earring."

That's right, you had put on the earring on your right ear on your way to your boss' office. You had pierced ears, but upon joining the Fatui, you stopped wearing accessories in case it got in the way.

You don't know what came over you. Scaramouche's hand had suddenly come up to your vision, reaching towards the right of your head. You took a step back, your hand coming up to block him with your wrist.

"..."

"..."

Scaramouche was staring at you with surprised eyes, and you look back with the same expression.

"I… Please, don't touch that, My Lord." You take another step back and lower your head, your hand dropping to your side, "You don't know where it's been."

You're dead.

You're dead.

You're still alive.

But you're so dead.

The Balladeer rolls his eyes with a scoff, continuing his walk, "I liked you better before you met Tartaglia."

Alsnxnchakjslsm????

"We're leaving in an hour, [L/n]. If you're not ready, I might actually kill you this time."

"Yes, My Lord."

ARGH!

WHY IS HE THE WAY HE IS??

[reidtomewinchester]

I am absolutely loving this! It’s so interesting with Reader being an empathic psychic.

Season One

Season Summary: You bring something special to the BAU team, specializing in spirits and people’s energies. You use your abilities to help others get justice for the crimes of vicious criminals. Along the way, you make new friends, developed a new crush, and battle inner demons you never knew were there all the while keeping a smile on your face.

Extreme Aggressor: Part One // Part Two // Final Part

Compulsion: Part One // Part Two // Final Part

Won’t Get Fooled Again: Part One // Part Two // Final Part

Plain Sight: Part One // Part Two // Final Part

Broken Mirror: Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Final Part

L.D.S.K.: Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Final Part

The Fox: Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Final Part

Natural Born Killer: Part One // Part Two // Final Part

Derailed: Part One // Part Two // Final Part

The Popular Kids: Part One // Part Two // Final Part

Blood Hungry: Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Final Part

What Fresh Hell?: Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Final Part

Poison: Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Final Part

Riding the Lightning: Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Final Part

Unfinished Business: Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Final Part

The Tribe: Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Final Part

A Real Rain: Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Final Part

Somebody’s Watching: Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Final Part

Machismo: Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Final Part

Charm and Harm: Part One // Part Two // Final Part

Secrets and Lies: Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Final Part

The Fisher King: Part 1: Part One // Part Two // Final Part

[lemonlover1110]

𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑

Sukuna

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

Summary: Your husband was an heir, and you have to fulfill the order.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), spitting, slight use of tummy mouth, double penetration, tit sucking (and biting), breeding kink, degrading, sukuna is... sukuna but fluffier to his wife

*he's been on my mind lately and I'm going insane

10k Event Masterlist

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“I want an heir.” Sukuna brings up one fateful night as you walk over to lay down beside him. It’s not a request, it’s an order that you must fulfill, just like everything that involves Sukuna. Strangely enough, Sukuna has been the one that’s been delaying having a child since you’ve been nearly begging him to have a baby with him for the past year. It seems he’s finally given in to the idea though.

“What was that, Suku?” You ask, stopping in your tracks because he’s caught you off guard. He stands up from where he lays, towering over you. You look up at him, waiting for him to repeat himself but you should know better than anyone that your husband doesn’t like to repeat himself. But this time he does,

“It’s about time you give me an heir.” Which makes a smile spread across your face because it’s what you’ve been wanting. Sukuna has been the one that has been refusing to have a child so you don’t understand why he words it like that– But either way, you’re happy and ready to fulfill his every need. Before you can even agree to his order, his bottom hands are undoing your robe to get you undressed while his mouth goes down to your lips.

Sukuna has grown accustomed to kissing you, and handling your body more gently since you’ve asked him to. Compared to the beginning, he treats you like a petal. You like to think it’s his way of expressing his love for you since he’s not very vocal about it, and you know he doesn’t particularly enjoy kissing. His tongue meets yours while his hands try to undo the robe without tearing the fabric into pieces since he knows it’s one of your favorites.

He bites down on your lip causing a cry to leave your throat while he gives up on properly taking off your robe. You hear as the fabric rips, and maybe another time you would be upset about it but you’re too consumed by him to care. He’ll just get you another one. His two lower hands roam down your bare body. One hand gropes your breasts, his rough fingers pinching your nipples. He gets to your cunt, lightly slapping it before he runs two fingers through your cunt.

He pulls away from the kiss, letting your soft moans into the air when he begins to play with your clit. Sex for him has always been a selfish act but ever since his first night with you, he’s found pleasure in pleasing you. The sound of your moans in the air while he toys with you is the sweetest melody. He found it dumb at first, but now there are nights where he’s simply buried between your thighs with the purpose of making you come as much as he can. 

Sukuna picks you up and puts you down on the bed. Taking a moment to appreciate how beautiful his wife looks when she’s under him. Fuck, you’re so fucking small compared to him. It’s nothing new, really, all the people that Sukuna has been with are miniscule compared to him. But he just loves the way that you look under him since he’s never seen a more beautiful human being. He’d never tell that to you though.

Sukune begins to tease your entrance, threatening to push a finger into your cunt but he doesn’t. He runs his fingers through your folds, while his thumb plays with your clit. He lowers his head, his tongue circling your nipple before his mouth wraps around it and he begins to suck.

“Can you put a finger in, Suku? Please…” You ask him, your needy cunt in need of his fingers inside of you. He bites down on your nipple, causing a cry to leave your lips before he unlatches and lifts his head up. 

“I hate beggars.” Sukuna reminds you, and you’re about to apologize but he shoves three fingers into your mouth, gagging you with them before you can even get a word out. He really knows you better than anyone. “My woman doesn’t apologize to anyone either. Not even her own husband.”

Sukuna finally pushes two fingers inside your pussy, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. His fingers are just so fucking big, and they reach every right spot. Sukuna feels you moan around his fingers before he takes them out of your mouth. He curves the fingers inside your cunt so they hit against your sweet spot. One hand goes to your breasts, and he begins to play with your nipples. 

“It feels so good, Suku.” You moan, your back arching as pleasure consumes you. Sukuna’s multiple hands are… Everything.

He takes his fingers out of your cunt, moving the wet digits down to your asshole. He spits down on your cunt and spreads his saliva down. He presses his fingers against your asshole as he lowers his head. He kisses from your lower abdomen to your pussy, where his tongue then runs through your folds and then up to your clit. His tongue begins to flick your clit while he pushes two fingers into your asshole, making you moan loudly.

“Fuck– Fuck!” You yell, as Sukuna also pushes two fingers into your cunt again. It’s like music to Sukuna’s ears. It’s too much for you, two fingers in your ass, two in your pussy, and his tongue on your clit. Both holes squeeze around his fingers as his tongue lays flat on your clit.

“Sukuna! Shit, it’s so fucking good.” You bite down your lip, trying to not bring too much attention to yourself. Unluckily for you, as soon as Sukuna knows that you’re making yourself quiet, he stops. He lifts his head up and takes his fingers out of your pussy and asshole, leaving your holes to clench around nothing.

“I want my woman to be loud. Don’t be a fucking bitch, do you hear me?” Sukuna kneels, towering over you again and you nod in response. You use your forearm to hold yourself up and look at him. He undoes his robe, and you lick your lips as you watch your husband get completely naked. Your thighs come together as your eyes fall on his two thick cocks, feeling excitement consume you. Sukuna smirks, watching you prompt yourself up to get his cocks in your mouth. He stops you, his hand going on your chin. “You’re a cute little bitch… You’ll be okay. You can handle them both, right?”

“Yes, lord.” You nod in response, and Sukuna treats you as if you were a doll– More gently than he would treat an actual doll but he moves you as if you were one. He forces you to hold your legs to your chest, and the large tongue on his mouth licks your pussy, and moves down to your asshole. He’ll be sweet with you, especially since you brought back the name that you hadn’t used since your marriage.

The tongue teases the entrance of your asshole but Sukuna stops before anything else happens. He lays his cocks down on your lower abdomen, and you deeply inhale. You wonder how it’ll fit inside of you, but it always fits so you shouldn’t worry.

Sukuna doesn’t bother teasing the cock that goes in your pussy, immediately pushing it in which causes a loud moan to leave your lips. He doesn’t waste time in putting the second cock in your ass, and once you’re stuffed with him, he begins to move. He’s gentler with his thrusts this time, which you certainly appreciate since he didn’t give you time to adjust. 

He’s grown impatient with the idea of you giving him an heir, he can’t waste anymore time. And fuck, he just needs to feel you wrapped around his cocks. You don’t seem to be struggling either way, quite the opposite, you moan in pleasure with his every movement.

“I’m going to fill your womb up with my seed, and you’re going to give me what I deserve.” Sukuna says through gritted teeth to not let out another sound that hints at how good you’re making him feel. Sukuna will never say anything that could hint at him being happy with someone else– The most you’ve ever gotten from him was a marriage… order. Sukuna didn’t propose marriage, he simply told you that you two would be getting married. But you know that the face that he’s making and the way he talks, he’s feeling good. 

“I’ll give you what you want, lord.” You respond as his cocks hits every right spot, filling you with so much pleasure. His thrusts pick up speed, and your eyes begin to roll to the back of your head. Sukuna’s hand begins to play with your clit, and you begin to squeeze around him even more, causing him to hiss. Fuck, he can’t wait to see you big and round with his child. Sukuna can’t wait for his seed to bless your womb and all the changes that it’ll bring to your body. He can’t wait to steal some of the milk that’s meant for his child.

“Going to fill you up with my child.” Sukuna groans as you squeeze around his cocks. It’s too much for you, especially after he’s worked you up. You’re loudly moaning his name, just like he wants you to. He wants the servants to hear how he pleases his woman. It’s all too much for you since he’s filling up both of your holes and toying with your clit.

You shut your eyes, and see white as you squirt all over him, causing a chuckle to leave his throat. He lightly slaps your clit as you make a mess all over him. Sukuna can’t help but praise you for it, which is definitely something rare, “That’s my good wife.”

Sukuna bites his tongue, loving how tight and warm your holes feel. But you won’t get a noise out of him. His hand goes to your throat, however, it just rests there while his thumb presses against your lips, “The only woman worthy of carrying my child.”

Sukuna gets rougher with his thrusts as his release approaches. The thought of you carrying his baby makes him go insane. He’ll make sure it happens soon, he’ll fuck you every night until there’s confirmation that you’re expecting his successor. 

He mutters your name before he fills you up with his cum. He doesn’t dare to pull out until both of your holes are completely filled with his seed. When Sukuna pulls out, he lays down beside you. He brings you into his embrace while you take deep breaths.

Sukuna kisses the top of your head, one of his hands running up and down your back. Maybe Sukuna hasn’t exactly been fond of kissing before, but it’s definitely his favorite thing to do with you now.

[plutotheplum]

Keep My Hand in Yours

emperor!zayne x concubine!reader - read part 1!

summary: the emperor is intent on convincing you that you are worthy enough to be his empress.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, fluff, oral sex, vaginal fingering, p in v, praise kink, throne sex, spanking

wc: 6.9k

a/n: part 2 is finally here! thank you for all the sweet comments, i cherish them all!! <3 umm... i do plan on adding some more parts to this series... so yeah, i hope you enjoy! :)

also on ao3!

“She is not with child.”

Zayne’s stern voice cuts through the chatter of his advisors, his fingers tapping against the arm of his throne irritatedly. The drone of voices silences, his advisors lowering their heads in respect.

You stand off to the side, playing with the sleeves of your robes nervously. Perhaps you’d been a little naive to think the advisors would have been accepting of your blossoming relationship with the Emperor. 

Word had spread throughout the palace, and most likely throughout the entire Empire about the new developments that had taken place overnight. The guards had heard you of course, their eyes averted and cheeks flushed pink when Zayne had held your hand and led you out of his chambers.

An unforeseen turn in events, and you had somehow excelled past the advisors’ expectations, garnering the Emperor’s affection for you. Whilst a small number of the Emperor’s advisors were pleased, the majority were not. Standing before them, you can see the disdain on their faces, the hatred that belies their thin smiles. Jealousy is above all however, for their own daughters were once placed forth as noble matches for the Emperor. 

You jolt out of your thoughts when an Imperial guard takes your arm, moving you to stand before the Emperor. Zayne looks down at you, and you can spy the slight softening of his eyes as he watches you bow to him.

“As I have said,” Zayne repeats, “she is not with child.”

“Forgive me, your majesty,” a voice speaks out from behind you, “how can she not be with child? We- we have heard of what occurred.”

Zayne motions for you to spin around, and you do as he wants. You now face his entire court, advisors gathered in hours of the early morning. It was the grand chancellor who spoke, a tall man, his face gaunt. You remember he had served Zayne’s father before he had passed.

“We are both not ready for children,” Zayne explains, “I had the palace physician brew a tea under my command.”

It was true. You had both spoken about the matter, and you simply could not handle carrying a child so soon. Zayne had agreed, snuck you out through the passages in the middle of the night, and had taken you to the palace physician. The brewing of such teas was not unheard of, but certainly not an accepted occurrence, although perhaps more commonly used among the nobility.

“I see…” the grand chancellor says slowly, his gaze fixating on you.

You want to shrink away, somehow hide behind the safety of the Emperor, but you cannot. Instead, you shift on the spot, averting your gaze to the floor as though you were not the very object of interest of this gathering.

“And you intend to continue this foolish endeavor?” 

Your head snaps up at the harsh words, gaze settling on the new voice that had spoken out. A lower ranking official judging by the coloring of his robes, his eyes narrowing as he stares at you.

“It appears you forget yourself,” the Emperor replies coolly. 

“Or perhaps you forget yourself, your majesty,” the official spits, stepping forward, “you would ruin the image of your rule to marry some… some lowly concubine?”

The murmurs of the other members of court are hard to ignore, hushed whispers breaking out at the official’s blatant show of disrespect towards the Emperor.

“And was it not this very court that decided to gather concubines without my knowledge?”

“For child bearing!” the official hisses, pointing his finger towards you accusingly, “not for marriage!”

You swallow harshly at the viciousness of his words, biting back the insults that threaten to spill out. Retaliation in such a meeting would only support the official’s cause. 

“She will be your Empress,” Zayne says calmly, “if you seek to insult my future wife yet again, I will have you removed immediately.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks when he affirms that you’ll be his wife. It may not be the best time, but the light flush covers your cheeks and you try to stop the pull of your lips, a smile threatening to spread across your face.

“If you think I- we will stand for such insolence, you are sorely mistaken, your majesty” the official snarls.

A bitter laugh echoes through the throne room. 

“Be grateful that I am not my father,” Zayne murmurs, “for he would have had your head. Remove your seal.”

The official sputters, looking around at the rest of the court members wildly. Most avoid his eyes, others unconsciously touching their own seals through the fabric of their robes.

You flinch when the official removes his Imperial seal angrily, tossing the little silver square at your feet.

“You have poisoned his mind,” he accuses heatedly, face reddened from his outburst, “and you should do well to remember your station.”

Irritation pricks at your skin, your teeth gritting together. You were well aware of your station, of your status and how you’re perceived. The incessant reminders aren’t doing well to calm your frayed nerves, brows pulling together as you glare at the official. 

“Bow to her.”

The rules of nobility have been set in place for longer than you could possibly know, and yet Zayne seems insistent on breaking them. It’s bold, even for him, to demand such a thing. You turn, shooting him a look, subtly shaking your head. There’s a hint of a smile on the Emperor’s face, as though enjoying this confrontation.

“I- I will do no such thing!” the official protests.

“You have already lost your seal and your position and you still will not do as I say?” Zayne murmurs, leaning forward in his throne.

You watch with wide eyes when the official does bow to you, the upper half of his body lowering. Another round of hushed whispers passes through the room, and you can feel the grand chancellor’s eyes boring into you. His authority was only second to the Emperor, the only man who held a real chance of changing Zayne’s mind.

“Good,” Zayne says, leaning back on his throne, “now leave us.”

The throne room clears out immediately, until you’re the only one remaining. You smile at him, stepping between his legs until you’re standing in front of him.

“I did not take you for a tyrant,” you tease, brushing his hair out of his face.

“And I did not know that protecting my future wife made me a tyrant,” Zayne muses, his arms wrapping around your waist.

He tugs you closer, his head falling forward to rest against your stomach, face burying itself in your robes. A soft sigh leaves you, fingers running through his loose hair, scratching at his scalp lightly.

“Tired?” you ask, arm wrapping around his neck.

The Emperor nods against your stomach, trying to press his face deeper. A laugh escapes you at his needy behavior, your hand managing to cup his jaw to bring him out of his hiding place. 

“The affairs of state have become bothersome,” Zayne says, peering up at you.

“Oh? You did not seem to mind before.”

“Playing coy?” Zayne smiles faintly, tugging you forward until you stumble and land on his lap.

“Hardly,” you whisper, pressing yourself closer as your hands curl into his robes.

The Emperor leans back on his throne, his hands kneading at your hips. You chase after him, eyes fluttering shut as you press your lips against his. Zayne lets out a low noise, drawing you closer, his hand sliding up your back as you kiss. The memory from last night is still fresh, the feeling of his hands on your body ingrained in your mind. 

“I cannot have enough of you,” he whispers, lips brushing over yours.

“You- you ought to rest,” you gasp, tilting your head to let him kiss down the length of your neck.

Zayne kisses your sternum, and back up your neck before he sighs and tucks his face into the crook of your neck. You hold him close, hand smoothing over his hair gently.

“I have made things difficult for you,” you say quietly.

He shakes his head, squeezing your waist reassuringly. 

“I have become complacent,” he murmurs, “simply letting others do as they please.”

You kiss his forehead when he lifts his head, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks. Exhaustion mars the Emperor’s face, his eyes looking sunken and dull. The sudden gathering of his court appears to have drained his energy.

“I shall have to gather them again,” Zayne says, “the trade agreements need attention.”

A smile settles on your face when he kisses your cheeks gently, his hands petting your sides. You move off of his lap, standing up with him reluctantly. Reaching out, you fix his hair and his robes that you had held onto earlier. 

“Finish, then retire to your chambers to rest,” you instruct, patting his chest.

Zayne laughs, his head dipping down to kiss you. You return the kiss eagerly, pulling apart with a few sweet, little pecks to his lips.

“You are already acting like a doting wife,” he whispers.

You flush when he says that, looking away. It’s still hard to get over the fact that Zayne, the Emperor, wants to marry you of all people. The thought of it all makes your palms sweaty, cheeks hot and heart race. There’s a whirlwind upon you, Zayne, tearing apart your preconceived notions of the Empire. 

“I want to dote on you.”

The words tumble from your lips, soft and vulnerable. You’ve never felt this way about a man, never had a man pay attention to you, never been touched by a man before him. It’s as though the Emperor’s expressions are always tender in the way he gazes at you. You’ve never known what it’s like to be in love, but if it’s like this, so startlingly soft and sickeningly sweet, you fear you may be lost in him forever. 

“I- I just meant-” you begin to correct yourself, fidgeting with your robes.

“I know what you meant,” Zayne says softly, his hands finding yours.

Your breath catches in your throat when he lifts your hands to his mouth, his thumbs running over your skin soothingly. Zayne keeps his eyes on you as he kisses across your knuckles, squeezing your hands gently after. 

“I said I take care of what’s mine,” he continues, drawing you close, “and you are mine now.”

You nod jerkily, shoving your face into his chest. The Emperor hums, stroking your hair slowly. Unfortunately, you don’t get to bask in his embrace for any longer, a guard announcing the arrival of a messenger.

“Rest,” you remind him, planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

Zayne nods, squeezing your waist before allowing you to draw away. 

-

The other girls crowd around you immediately when you enter your chambers, their expressions sly and knowing as they tug you towards the middle of the room, soft giggles filling the air.

“Well?” one of them asks, eyes wide with curiosity. 

“Well what?” you ask, feigning innocence.

A chorus of complaints breaks out.

“Stop being shy!”

“We tell you our stories!”

“You must tell us!”

One of the girls reaches for you, her arm hooking with yours. She leans down, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers conspiratorially.

“Was the Emperor well-endowed?”

“Oh, stop it!”

- 

The grand chancellor has been lurking in the hallways.

You’d noticed the tall man when you had left to make some tea, but after a considerable amount of time, he was still there. The cold breeze outside should’ve been enough to deter him, but you’ve figured he must be intent on speaking to you.

To be frank, you aren’t in the mood for another confrontation just days later from the disastrous court meeting that had occurred. It’s why you hold your breath as you sneak out from your chambers, feet padding against the floor lightly as you try to slip past the grand chancellor’s turned back.

“Will you avoid me for much longer?” he calls out. 

You wince, halting in place. The grand chancellor cannot be avoided forever, you suppose.

“Come along,” he says, his fingers motioning for you to follow him.

You do as he says begrudgingly, following after the grand chancellor. To your surprise, he leads you into the gardens rather than a private room. Snow is yet to fall today, autumn soon drawing to a close in a few weeks. You wipe the fallen leaves that have landed on a nearby bench, sitting down after the grand chancellor does.

It’s suffocatingly awkward, your fingers playing with each other agitatedly as he simply sits next to you, looking out at the plants and trees that make up the gardens. You realize it would be a foolish idea to let your guard down around him. The grand chancellor hadn’t reprimanded Zayne during that meeting and yet you remember the way he had been staring at you. His intentions are hard to discern, his loyalties to the Emperor and the Emperor alone. 

“Much like his father, his majesty is stubborn,” the grand chancellor says, “I have had the pleasure of knowing both men since they were children.”

“I see,” you murmur, peeking a glance at him.

You don’t know why he’s telling you this, half-expecting the man to begin berating you for becoming so close to Zayne. 

“I shall be frank,” he sighs, turning to face you, “I did not expect the Emperor to become so… enamored by you.”

“I did not expect it either,” you grumble defensively.

“His majesty is an intelligent man. He knows of the consequences and yet seems intent on taking you to wed.”

“Consequences?” you echo.

“Political alliances are frail,” he explains, picking up a fallen leaf and examining it, “marriage is the easiest way to prevent a war between regions.”

“We have not been at war for years!” you protest, shaking your head.

“And we will not be for many more,” the grand chancellor assures you, “I am simply warning you of what may come when you are Empress.”

You don’t understand the politics of the Empire, have never been privy to such things. The grand chancellor only adds to the confusion and uncertainty that has been brewing inside your mind. 

“I thought you would dissuade him,” you say quietly.

“The boy deserves happiness,” the grand chancellor murmurs, standing up, “if he wishes to be with you, then I will allow it.” He peers down at you, his lips thinning. “Take caution, child. Envy drives men to madness. The nobility may hide behind their bloodlines, but a cesspool festers within.”

The grand chancellor hands you the withered leaf.

“Loyalties change as the seasons do.”

- 

A week later, the Emperor finds you in the gardens, sitting under a tree.

“You have not come to see me,” Zayne says, sitting down beside you.

“I did not want to trouble you,” you reply.

You reach for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. The Emperor’s fingers are stained with ink, streaks of black covering his pale skin. Zayne’s arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against his side.

“The grand chancellor is worried.”

“I surmised as much,” the Emperor sighs, his fingers playing with your robes.

You peer up at him, and Zayne leans down, dropping a kiss to your forehead. There’s a part of you that can’t help but feel you’re putting him in a position that he normally wouldn’t be in if he had simply chosen to marry someone of higher status.

“Do you truly wish to marry me?” you ask quietly, averting your gaze.

“Have I told you otherwise?” Zayne asks in return, his fingers gripping your chin to turn your head so that your eyes meet his again.

The tenderness in his eyes is overwhelming. You feel as though you’re drowning, swallowed up by his irises and his honest gaze. Things would’ve been far simpler if he were someone less important, but you can’t imagine Zayne being anything other than the Emperor, for it would be a disservice to the Empire.

You shift, standing up before settling your hands on his broad shoulders, straddling him as you climb up onto his lap. It’s improper to act so brazenly, but you’ve done far more improper things with him, acted far more brazenly in his presence. The Emperor grunts as you settle yourself on his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.

“I am not fit to be your Empress,” you whisper.

Zayne doesn’t say anything for a moment, his hand simply rubbing up and down your back soothingly. Your throat is tight and you can feel your lips trembling. You don’t want to cry, but you can’t help it when a sniffle escapes you.

“And you think I am fit to be Emperor?” he whispers, “I am only here because of my father and his father before him and so on.”

“But you are the Emperor,” you insist, voice quavering, “I could not possibly-”

“Forget about nonsensical titles,” Zayne murmurs, his hands cupping your cheeks as his thumbs wipe away the hot tears that have begun to roll down your cheeks, “I meant every word I said that night.”

“B- but-” 

“But nothing,” the Emperor soothes, staring into your eyes intently, “I would sooner have no one than not have you.”

“You are the worst,” you say tearily, pushing at his chest weakly. 

“Ah, I am sure,” he says, a small smile spreading across his face.

The Emperor cradles your head, tilting it to his will as he kisses away the fresh tears that wet your cheeks. He doesn’t stop there, his lips dragging over your skin gently. The Emperor kisses your brows, your closed eyelids, the tip of your nose, every inch of your face that is bared to him.

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

You kiss him gently and Zayne smooths his thumbs over your cheeks, deepening the kiss as he presses his lips against yours firmly. A soft whine leaves you, letting his tongue lick over the seam of your lips before he licks into your mouth, tongue delving deep. The Emperor kisses you as though trying to convince you of his words, as though to make you stay. 

“I want to show you something,” Zayne says, his forehead pressing against yours. You nod, moving to stand up. Zayne doesn’t let you, instead hauling you up into his arms and standing up. A surprised squeak bubbles out of you when you realize the Emperor is carrying you.

“Zayne!” you protest, “Zayne, people will see!”

Zayne only tightens his grip when you begin to squirm, brushing a kiss to your forehead to calm your ministrations.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, people do see. You try to shrink in his grasp, pressing yourself into his chest as the palace staff pause their duties to watch with wide eyes as the Emperor carries you out of the gardens. Some are unable to stop their jaws from slackening, others beginning to point and whisper amongst themselves.

The Emperor hardly bats an eye, his stride strong and purposeful as he carries you through the hallways and courtyards. It’s a statement in and of itself. 

You spy the smirk on an Imperial guard’s face when he opens up the doors to the throne room, your eyes narrowing when the man sends you a wink. The doors slam shut with a resounding thud, leaving only you and Zayne inside.

“Zayne- Zayne, no!” you hiss, hands scrabbling at his shoulders when you realize what he’s doing. 

Your legs kick out, trying to somehow climb up the Emperor’s tall frame. It’s futile against his strength, his hands manhandling you until he sets you down on his throne. If he doesn’t punish you for it, you fear the Heavens will. 

“Stay,” the Emperor says, pushing at your shoulders when you try to shoot up from where you’re sitting, “I command it.”

You sit in place rigidly, back straight. There are centuries of history that make up this throne, and you can’t help but feel that you are somehow dishonoring it all by sitting here. 

“What are you-” your brows furrowing when he suddenly begins to bend.

Fingers digging into the arms of the throne, you feel as though you might faint as you watch the Emperor bow to you before sinking to his knees. Zayne stares up at you expectantly, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

“G- get up!” you whisper heatedly.

There’s no one here, but you can only imagine the severity of the consequences if someone were to stumble in here and find the Emperor on his knees for you.

“Command it,” he says, looking perfectly content in his current position.

“No one can command the Emperor!”

“I will not move unless you exert your authority,” Zayne says simply.

Your eye twitches at his insistence, at his own brazenness. 

“Say it,” he coaxes gently, “say it and I will stand.”

“I-” your breath catches in your throat awkwardly. You flush when Zayne nods his head encouragingly, your voice breathy when you begin to speak again. “I c-command you to stand.”

“Very good,” he murmurs, standing up and moving towards you.

Zayne smiles at you, his head dipping to crash his lips onto yours, his hands braced on the arms of his throne. You gasp, arms wrapping around his neck as he kisses you fiercely. The Emperor continues his onslaught of kisses, dragging his lips down your neck as his fingers pull free the knot holding your robes together.

“You think your station determines your worth,” Zayne whispers, his teeth scraping your shoulder, “but this- you are worth more to me than the finest jade.”

“Stop,” you whisper, eyes slipping shut, “you must stop speaking like that. It does awful things to my heart.”

He laughs softly, kissing between your breasts. You bite your lip as his mouth envelops your breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple. His teeth catch on it, tugging playfully before letting it pop free as he switches breasts. You run your fingers through his long hair, head tipping back against the throne as your body convulses.

The Emperor holds you in place, letting his tongue lave over your areola, his half-lidded eyes peering up at you to catch your reactions. You give him a weak smile and Zayne moans around your breast, his hand squeezing at the fat of your other breast.

Your dazed eyes watch as he kisses down your body, kissing your hip then your navel. He sinks to his knees once again, and you can’t find it in yourself to reprimand him, lost in the haze of lust and love. Zayne kisses the curls of hair on your mound, his hands gripping your calves to help guide your legs over his shoulders.

“I have missed this,” he whispers, his thumbs pulling apart your folds.

“As have I,” you sigh.

You moan when Zayne licks up a stripe over your cunt, collecting your arousal on his tongue. He rests his cheek against your thigh, watching intently as your aching hole clenches around nothing, watching as more slick drips from you.

“Stop staring,” you mumble, pushing at his head gently.

“I enjoy the sight,” he says in return.

Your thighs twitch when he pushes the hood of your clit up a little more, exposing the swollen bud. Zayne groans, kissing the inside of your thigh firmly before licking over your cunt again. A strangled gasp rips out of your throat, hands tightening in his hair as he sucks your clit into his mouth.

“Z- Zayne- ah- hah!” 

A soft whimper escapes when he kisses your clit, his fingers dimpling into the flesh of your thighs harshly. Zayne pulls you to the edge of the throne, his face burying deeper as he groans again, drinking down your slick. 

You squeal when he fucks his tongue into you, body shaking uncontrollably as you fist his hair tighter. He hisses against your cunt, renewing his efforts. You can feel his mouth opening wider, trying to consume you whole, licking and sucking desperately at every inch of velvety, sensitive flesh he can reach.

His nose rubs against your clit, and you’re seeing stars. The Emperor makes an obscene noise and you can feel his tongue moving inside of you, the feeling making your thighs clamp around his head. 

“Have- have you ever put your fingers inside of yourself?” he asks, raising his head.

You shake your head, watching as his fingers stroke over your clit lovingly, his mouth pressing open-mouthed kisses to your knee.

“May I?” the Emperor whispers, his finger prodding at your hole.

You give him a jerky nod, legs falling apart a little more for him. He smiles up at you, his finger sinking into you slowly. You whimper at the sensation, clenching around his finger. Zayne adds another soon after, and you’re panting desperately, hips bucking as he curls them inside of you. 

“The scroll said to do something like this,” he mutters under his breath.

“You- oh- you read a scroll?” you grit out.

“It was quite informative,” Zayne murmurs, beginning to move his fingers.

“Why must you be so- ah!” 

You don’t get to finish your sentence, your knuckles turning white as you grip the throne for stability as he latches his mouth back onto your clit, his fingers thrusting in and out of you. The heat inside your stomach grows more intense with each flick of his tongue, his teeth scraping against your sensitive flesh for good measure.

Moans have begun to fill the air, and you can’t find it in yourself to care anymore, letting go completely. You guide his head to where you want him, toes curling against his back, crumpling his silk robes. Zayne’s mouth works with his fingers diligently, his fingers crooking up a little more to graze the spot where you need it most.

You peek down to see the pink flush on his cheeks and your back arches, his name leaving your mouth in a cry as you come on his fingers and his tongue. The Emperor moans as you writhe, his fingers moving in and out of you a couple more times before freeing them from your clenching walls.

Chest heaving, you pant, slumping back in the throne as he kisses across your puffy folds and sensitive cunt. Your thighs twitch a little when he peppers soft, little kisses against your clit and you can’t help but think the man has an obsession with its ability to bring you such pleasure.

The Emperor kisses up your body and you cup his jaw, kissing him sweetly.

“I fear this throne may be ruined,” you whisper against his lips.

He laughs, his nose nudging yours gently, “I recall promising to take you on it.”

“Before that,” you stand up on shaky legs, pushing at his chest until he sits back on his throne.

Adoration glimmers in his eyes, watching as your loose robes slip from your shoulders, pooling at your feet. You stand bare before the Emperor, and you catch the slight spreading of his thighs to relieve the ache of his cock.

This time it’s you that’s sinking to your knees, pulling his robes free. The muscles of his abdomen clench when you run your fingers down his chest, his hand coming up to cover his flushed face.

“Why are you shy now?” you accuse, pouting up at him.

His thighs twitch when you curl your hand around his cock and you can feel the throb of his fat, hot length. 

“You do not have to-” he whispers when he sees your head dip.

“I want to,” you say stubbornly.

Zayne nods in acquiescence, moaning when you begin to drag your hand up and down his cock. It’s a little intimidating when you stare at it up close, but you swallow down your worries, leaning forward to kiss the tip experimentally.

His cock twitches in response, pre-cum beading at the tip. Your tongue darts out, licking up the little glob, feeling the taste of him spread across your tongue.

“Zayne,” you whisper, breath fanning over his cock, “Zayne, you must watch me.”

The Emperor groans at your lilting voice, his eyes opening the moment your mouth envelops him. His hips buck and you nearly seize up at the feeling of the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You mewl around him, breathing through your nose, tongue swirling before your head begins to bob up and down.

“Fuck,” Zayne hisses, his fingers spreading across your scalp, “my love, you are devious.”

You hum in response, pulling off of his cock in favor of giving more attention to the tip of it. You swirl your tongue, tongue flicking at the flared head and it’s enough to make Zayne whine, his thighs spreading wider for you. 

“Can you take it deeper?” he asks, his fingers trailing down the curve of your cheek.

“I shall try,” you murmur, mouth opening for him.

He hooks his thumb into the corner of his mouth, cupping your chin before his thumb spreads over the flat of your tongue. You smile, eyes flashing with mischievousness as you suck his thumb into your mouth, tongue flicking against the pad of it. 

Zayne shoots you a searing look and you watch as he grips the base of his cock. He drags the tip of his cock against your closed lips, entranced as he watches his pre-cum smears across your lips. His other hand presses at the back of your head and your mouth opens again, letting him guide his cock into your mouth.

“Just like that,” he whispers, “good girl.”

You can feel arousal shooting through you at the praise, slick pooling between your thighs yet again. The ache is so unbearable that you shove your hand between your thighs, rubbing at your clit.

The Emperor pushes your head gently and you go willingly, slurping and sucking around his thick cock. Saliva drips from your mouth, coating his cock and his balls, strings of it landing on the edge of his throne. You rub at your clit faster, eyes fluttering as he brushes your loose hair away from your face.

“A- ah,” Zayne rasps, “hah- my love.”

The term of endearment is enough to have you taking it upon yourself to sink down his cock even more. The tufts of his black hair hit your nose for a moment, but you’re inexperienced and you’ve overestimated your own abilities. The feeling of his cock filling your throat is too much, and you choke, throat seizing, causing you to pull off with a hoarse cough as your eyes water.

Concern flits across Zayne’s face, his thumb swiping over your swollen lips. You give him a watery smile, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He sighs in relief when he sees you’re okay, leaning forward to place a tender kiss to your lips.

“So willful,” the Emperor murmurs.

He slides his hands under your armpits, picking you up and setting you down on his lap.

“I can do it again,” you mumble, gaze lowering to see his cock pressed between your bodies.

Zayne smiles, petting at your sides, “as much as I enjoyed the feeling, I cannot have my darling choking on my cock.”

“I was not choking,” you whine, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“If you insist,” Zayne soothes, “but when we are married, I will have many more opportunities to watch you swallow my cock.”

The Emperor’s constant promise of marriage has your heart lurching and you lean forward, crushing your lips against his. He grunts in surprise at your sudden action but returns the kiss just as eagerly, squeezing at your hips.

You whine into his mouth, his hair tickling your skin as he presses forward, his hips rolling up into yours. You can feel his hard cock between your thighs, the length dragging between your folds. 

Zayne groans at the sensation, his head falling back and you take the opportunity to kiss down his neck, rolling your hips wantonly, your nails digging into his broad shoulders.

“Who are you?” he whispers, groping the fat of your ass.

“W- what?” you pull back, confusion spreading across your face.

The Emperor guides your hips to continue moving, your folds hugging his cock as you grind against it.

“Who are you?” Zayne asks again, “your title, what is it?”

Pleasure has made your mind hazy, and you can’t discern whether he’s playing a game of some sort with his questions, or whether he’s suffering from some sort of untimely amnesia.

“Your concubine,” you reply, “I thought-”

You jolt in his arms when he suddenly lands a heavy spank to your ass, his eyes narrowing when he hears your answer.

“Incorrect,” Zayne murmurs, his hand squeezing your ass in warning.

“I am your concubine- ah!”

Zayne shakes his hand, spanking you twice. You can feel the prickly heat spread across your skin, the pain searing. You glare up at him, and he smiles back, his hand smoothing over your reddened backside. 

“Who are you, my love?” he whispers, his nose nudging yours.

Oh. Oh. 

The Emperor’s insistence is a remarkable thing, you think. He may be even more stubborn than you are. Zayne’s fingers tapping against your cheek brings you out of your thoughts, your eyes meeting his. 

“I- I am your Empress,” you say quietly.

“Precisely.”

Zayne slots his lips over yours and you mewl, your hips beginning to rock again, inner thighs wet with your slick and his pre-cum smeared over his abdomen. He kisses you over and over until you’re short of breath and your lips are swollen and slick with his spit.

“Will you take my cock, my love?” 

“Y- yes,” you say airily, lifting your hips as he grips the base of his cock, “please.”

Zayne squeezes your hip, watching as you bite your lip and sink down on his cock. His cock is just as girthy as you remember, filling up your needy hole perfectly. Your body falls forward at the feeling and Zayne kisses your cheek, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“Always take my cock so well,” he praises.

Your hands plant themselves against his chest as your head tips back, taking what you want from him. Hips rising and falling, airy moans filling the air, you ride the Emperor. Zayne moans with you, his hands kneading at the flesh of your sides before drifting to take handfuls of your ass too.

“So good,” you slur, the force of your movements increasing, “feels so good, Zayne.”

“I know,” Zayne whispers, watching the bounce and sway of your breasts as you move atop him, “use me, my love.”

You do as he says, using him to drive yourself further to the edge of pleasure. The sounds filling the throne room are lewd, the clap of skin echoing throughout coupled with your shared noises.

Your thighs burn as you roll your hips, taking his cock deeper into the heat of your cunt, feeling it punch into the most sensitive spot inside of you. It’s too much, the mind-numbing sensations and your own body tiring with every movement.

You slump against him, hips slowing to a pitiful stop, his fat cock still stuffed inside of you. It twitches and you whimper, peering up at Zayne desperately.

“Husbands should take care of their wives,” you mumble, lips pressing against his.

“But we are not yet married,” he whispers teasingly. 

Zayne kisses you slowly, his hand sliding up your neck and stopping to cup your cheek. He molds you to his will, maneuvering your body as he sees fit, grabbing at every inch of flesh he can reach.

“But I am yours,” you say earnestly, “and I will be yours till the day I die.”

“You will, won’t you?” Zayne smiles, drawing you closer, “nothing makes me happier, my dear.”

You wail when he suddenly ruts up into you, balls slapping against your ass as he tightens his grip to bounce you up and down on his lap. Your hands lose their holds on his shoulders, scrabbling for stability until you find purchase on the top of his throne. 

The Emperor is fucking you on his throne. 

You try to feel some sense of mortification, but you can’t, the feeling of his cock erasing all sensible thoughts from your mind. Zayne slaps your ass and you squeak, body falling forward even more. Your breasts press into his face and you whine when he mouths at them, sucking a hardened nipple into his mouth.

The Emperor’s name leaves your mouth in a pleading chant and he answers your needs, pulling you down until your cunt is flush with the base of his cock, pussy swallowing up his length completely. Zayne slows to a grind, keeping his cock stuffed inside of you. 

You curl an arm around his neck, hugging him closer to your breasts and Zayne groans, his mouth opening wider to try and take in your entire breast. He stares up at you, the flush on his cheeks deepened and eyes so, so soft. 

Your lips slot over his as soon as his mouth detaches from your breast, your lips working against his slowly and sweetly, hips swaying back to meet the slow thrusts of his hips.

“You have ruined me,” you confess, cheek resting on his shoulder.

“Better it be me than some other man,” he whispers.

You agree with him on that. Zayne has given you far more than you could’ve possibly dreamed, the twist of fate bringing you something, or rather, someone to cherish.

“You are everything, Zayne.”

He groans at your bold words, his head falling back against his throne. You come undone in slow waves, body trembling as he comes with you, his cock kicking inside of you as hot cum spurts from the tip, filling you up. You can feel the thickness of it, cum spilling into you for a few moments longer as your hips slow to a stop.

You both breathe heavily, his chest moving under yours. A thin sheen of sweat covers your bodies, robes forgotten as they lie at the foot of the throne. 

A soft smile graces your lips as you move his hair out of his eyes, tilting his head to kiss his forehead.

“You spoil me,” Zayne mutters, nuzzling into your palm.

“I think it is the other way around,” you laugh breathlessly.

He sighs, slumping in his throne, his cock still inside of you. You can feel it softening, no longer plugging you full as cum begins to leak out from your pussy.

“I may need more tea,” you whisper.

Zayne huffs in amusement, his fingers collecting his viscous cum. He smears it across your pussy, his fingers catching onto your clit as he rubs his cum onto the little bud. He lifts his hand to your mouth and you accept eagerly, staring into his eyes as you suck his fingers clean of cum.

“Minx,” he mutters.

You giggle, kissing the pads of his fingers affectionately, shifting to sit on his thigh. Zayne smiles in return, his hands massaging your sore thighs. He kisses your cheek a few times, peppers a few kisses here and there over your shoulder.

“Feeling better?” Zayne asks, nuzzling your cheek.

“Much,” you whisper, smiling up at him, “but I fear I may not be able to walk.”

“Shall I carry you again?” the Emperor whispers.

You roll your eyes, prodding your fingers into his chest, “I did not enjoy that.”

“Lying is punishable by death.”

“You are insufferable,” you whisper.

Zayne leans forward for another kiss, but you deny him, slipping off of his lap. He laughs when your thighs tremble, reaching out to catch you by the waist before your knees buckle.

He tugs you onto his lap, thwarting your escape as he kisses you again. You think you won’t be leaving this place anytime soon.

-

Zayne doesn’t think there’s anything more beautiful in this world than when you’re sleeping. 

The slow rise and fall of your chest, the sweet innocence of your face, your hair splayed against the pillows, the gods must favor him for they’ve sent him a vision.

He smiles as he watches you stir in your sleep, brushing away the hair that’s fallen onto your face. Zayne can’t resist leaning closer, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek, feeling your soft skin under his.

Zayne likes it when you smile, when you glare, the way you protest against his subtle teases. He’s never met someone as endearing as you, never bothered to take interest in another until you came along with that tray of tea clutched in your hands. He hasn’t told you about how his own heart flutters at the mere thought of you, and doesn’t think he will. He’d be better off showing you instead.

Above all, he remembers when you’d stumbled into his chambers, your flustered disposition as you’d apologized. He’d been lonely before you, trapped in a dull existence with others meandering through his life without purpose.

But you’ve changed things now. He feels free when he hears your laugh, the light in your eyes warming him from within. The world around him seems brighter, sparks of color appearing in places he had never seen before. 

You had painted the world for him.

[nezuscribe]

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself in a marriage that you never wanted in the first place. your husband seems to hate you and you begin to wonder if anything you used to think of him was even true. who would have though a marriage to gojo satoru would be so difficult?

warnings: 18+ mdni, arranged marriage, misunderstandings and just not talking shit out, mentions of cheating, slight angst (with comfort), eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, gojo doesn't really know how to husband for some of it

word count: 10.9K (whoops)

note: part two is up! i really had a lot of fun writing this so reblogs and comments are always appreciated! as always, thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading <3

jjk masterlist

never did you think that you’d be stuck in a marriage to a man who didn’t love you, but there’s a first for everything. 

you should count yourself lucky that he’s not old and bald. he’s pretty. in fact, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. his eyes are the bluest, bluer than the sky. his hair mirrors the winter snows, and his back ripples with muscles whenever he fights. 

his agility is unlike any other man. he fights swiftly and cleanly, never taking more than a couple minutes to get rid of whatever it was that stood in his way. he’s charming with his words (or so you’ve heard), and he knows how to make somebody swoon if he really wants them to. 

and he seems to despise you.

you had known gojo since you were a child, the two of you running around each other's fields as you chased him with your wooden sword. you remembered watching him in training, wishing him good luck whenever he went on a hunt. you could even remember how he would stutter whenever he tried to talk, something he must have worked on because he never seemed to stutter anymore. 

he was always nice to you, his cheeks rosy whenever you kissed him goodbye. he was kind back then, grinning brightly whenever he saw you. 

but as time grew and you with it, and it was only a matter of years before the two of you went your separate ways. it didn’t help that once he turned thirteen he had to leave for training and fighting in whatever it was that was needed of him, but you had hoped that he would be able to write back. 

you would send him letters whenever you could, it was tradition whenever the two of you were separated for too long to do so. each letter telling him about new experiences and embarrassing things that happened in your life, but he never responded. you liked to send one every week, sometimes including little tokens you thought he might enjoy. but you stopped sending them after the first two years and stopped asking about his whereabouts after three. 

but you were hopeful that when you saw him that night so many months ago, he’d be civil with you. you were nervous, sure, but who could blame you? you had recently gotten news that his time to serve his clan was over and that he was finally back home. it wasn’t as though the two of you had left on bad graces, so you were hopeful that he would at least remember you. but he could barely meet your eyes whenever you tried to catch him from across the room, acting as if you had never existed. 

he looked so different since the last time you had seen him. he was taller than most of the people in the room, his white hair just as bright as it used to be. he had gained muscle mass almost everywhere, and you felt yourself wondering just how much training he had to go through to look this way. you could see him talking to a girl, a smile on his face as he tilted his head to look at her better. you gave him some time to socialize, not wanting to intrude on anything. 

after an hour you decided that it was long enough, and tried to weave your way through the crowd to get to him. you had tried to call out to him, waving to him despite your mother quickly shoving your hand down, saying how improper it was. he heard you and you knew that he was purposely ignoring you, so you began to feel heavy-hearted after a couple of attempts at trying to catch his attention, eventually giving up. 

and now, despite you wanting to, you can’t even blame him for hating you. 

ever since your mother caught you, alone with him, a man you hadn’t seen in so long, she had swiftly and promptly proposed the idea of marriage only a few days later. it was really to save face for the two families, but it helped that this marriage would unify the two clans. 

you were sure he had ladies lined up to marry him, and you weren’t somebody he was actively trying to pursue. you didn’t even know if he was in love with somebody else if he shared a connection with a girl who was surely not you and cursed you for taking that away from him. 

not that it mattered now. 

all you wanted was to reconcile, to catch up on all the things happening in your lives. you wanted to hear all the stories he must have racked up over the years, not for this to happen. all the things he wanted for himself were ripped away because of one night from one simple act of kindness, and so you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate him for the way he acted.

you rarely come down for dinner whenever he’s there, but when you do, you feel those eyes turn icy, tracking your every movement till you sit down opposite of him. he doesn’t say much, just mutters a quiet “good evening” and you’re sure he’s only doing it so the maids don’t start to gossip. 

whenever your hand brushes his you feel him snap back, flexing his hand as though your touch burned him. he rarely came by to ask you about how you felt, and so you stopped trying to act kindly towards him if he didn’t want anything to do with it.

any semblance of romance you had dreamed of as a young girl quickly dissipated when you realized your husband wanted nothing to do with you, so you didn’t try to pursue any sort of love, deciding it’d be easier if he just did his part and you did yours so the two clans wouldn’t worry. 

he was always gone, which might be the best for the two of you. when he’s not training new men then he’s gone in a hunt. if he’s not in a hunt then he’s somewhere in his endless home, hiding away. 

you don’t know if he does this for him, for your sake, or for everybody else. 

“did you see your husband this morning?” one of your maids said excitedly as she tugged the undergarments over your raised arm, a gleeful smile on her face as she rambled about something gojo had done. you couldn’t help but return a smile of your own, although it didn’t quite meet your eyes. 

“yes, briefly. he’s busy with having to worry about the feast,” which wasn’t a total lie. you’d seen him hurriedly brush past you, quickly glancing at you as if he had forgotten you were his wife. you felt your chest tighten up with the way he glanced at your hand, and then quickly left. 

it was only a few nights away and you knew that it was the only buzz of news anybody seemed to talk about. unfortunately, for you, it meant having to socialize with other clans. you were fine with that aspect, you’d been doing it since you were young, but this time they had a right to be nosey. you knew there would be endless questions asked about the honeymoon stage of your marriage, to which you had no answer. 

sure, you’d been making up answers to hypothetical questions, but you didn’t know what gojo would be answering with, so you were only praying some of your responses would line up. 

for a night the two of you would have to pretend to be husband and wife, and while the people around you knew you were anything, you knew you had to commit to the role for the sake of you and your family’s dignity. 

but all this worrying isn’t good for your head, you could already feel the pang as you squeezed your eyes to try and get rid of it. you tried to move on from your worries, going to comment on her necklace, it seemed new, but a knock interrupted you. the two of your heads popped up, looking at where the sound came from. 

“come in!” you called out, buttoning up the last bits of your top as you thanked myra. she nodded, bowing as she went to open the door. you could hear her faint footsteps, not bothering to look up as she greeted the person behind. you guessed it was franchesca coming with the fabric samples. 

“sir,” you heard myra say, and your head swirled around, only to see the topic of your conversation make his way into your room, excusing your maid with a swift motion of his hand. she glanced once at you and then to him, ducking her head as she left, closing the door behind her as she left you two alone. 

you felt heat prickle at the back of your neck as he looked at you and then to your room. the two of you slept separately, as per your request the first night. you couldn’t bear the agonizing silence between the two of you, and he obliged. 

he was dressed for sparring. he had a loose-fitting tunic on, and pants that would allow him to move freely and without constraint. it was in moments like these that you were reminded of the fact that gojo was the strongest warrior that any of the clans had seen, that the child who once splurged on sugar in his tea was capable (and has done so before) of taking down entire armies. 

he had matured so much since what you last remembered from him. he no longer acted rashly nor spoke without thinking about what it was he wanted to say. but you still saw him eating sweets with the same fervor he did as a kid, and it never failed to make you smile, hiding it behind your hand so nobody could hear your quiet giggle. 

it had been a while since it was just the two of you, alone, and all you could think about was that night. your cheeks heated up just thinking about it, and it seemed that gojo could tell your discomfort with the way he cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair as he began to speak. 

“good morning,” he started, his eyes darting around, never setting on yours. it was funny if it didn’t cause your heart to hurt irrevocably, at how the strongest warrior in all the land could barely look at his wife. 

if only you knew.

“good morning.” you offered him a quick, disingenuous smile, moving around until you found your vanity, rummaging through your laid-out earrings as you kept your back to him, not trusting your face to give you away if you were to look at him for too long. 

you heard him take in an audible breath, but he continued whatever it was he wanted to say. 

“with the feast coming up, i want to clear some things with you,” you turned around, looping the earrings in as you nodded for him to continue. it was such a shame he was so stunning, effortlessly attractive as the sun caught off his cheekbones, bouncing off of his chest. he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, and you wondered if being here was just as painfully awkward for him as it was for you. 

“we should act like we’re…” he trailed off and you felt yourself itching to leave, knowing what he meant without having to say it. 

“in love?” you finished and he slowly nodded, gnawing on his lip as you brushed past him, going to find the mirror so you could adjust your jewelry. you could see him fidgeting in the corner, and for once you could see a hint of nervousness and unease on his features. 

and a part of you hurt. you would never admit out loud that you harbored a crush on him for as long as you could remember. it hurt knowing that you acting like you were in love was perhaps the lost genuine form of love you could show. 

“what if they ask about the night we met?” you ask after a couple of seconds, looking up from what you were doing. deep down, you knew somebody was bound to ask. even if it was just your mother who had caught the two of you alone in that garden, the news of it somehow spread (she was always one to talk). 

he scratches his head, shrugging as he eventually settles on an idea.

“just tell them the truth.” 

the truth. 

tell them how he followed you after you had run outside, sick to your stomach after a man, who was as old as your father, had introduced himself as a possible suitor. how gojo, the most ruthless warrior in all the land, had carefully put his hands on your back as you retched, offering you a towel he had fetched from inside to clean yourself up. 

tell them how you hadn’t seen him in years but the first thing you had done was to hug him tightly. how his hands wrapped around your back as though they were the only things keeping you afloat. perhaps they were. 

tell them how he murmured words in your hair to bring you back to reality, his thumb running up and down your arms to calm you down. how it seemed like even though it had been years since you two last saw each other, it felt so right, so normal, to be back in his arms. 

tell them how he had looked at you with such worry, such care, unlike anybody else had looked at you, and you for once felt safe in somebody’s arms. 

tell them how your mother found you two in such a compromising position, with your head nestled in his chest as he tried his very best to soothe your cries. it was humiliating and embarrassing to be caught with a man you had only seen back in your teenage years, and especially so in such a vulnerable position. 

you shake your head, scoffing at the idea, “i’ll just come up with something,” was your answer and he nods along, realizing how the story would be too private to share with people you barely knew.

“and we need a reason for why,” he cleared his throat once again, pink dusting on his cheeks as his eyes dropped to your stomach. your eyes met his in the mirror, and one of your eyebrows raised, “well, you’re not exactly looking like you’re carrying a child at the moment.” 

you quickly looked away, the tension in the room increasing as you moved away from the mirror, doing anything you could to keep your hands occupied. you flushed at the comment, your throat drying up as you glanced at your stomach.

the two of you have barely touched, much less been intimate with each other. you were glad he hadn’t forced the idea onto you, instead, leaving it to you to bring up the topic. you only talked about it, once, the night of the marriage, and then never again. you knew that it would have to happen eventually, but you couldn’t do it right now, not with your state of mind. 

you scrambled to say something. in all honesty, you had been dreading this question. you hadn’t been answering any of the letters your mother sent, and you knew people were expecting to hear the news of a pregnancy. 

“we’ll just say we’ve been so busy and preoccupied with the politics of marriage that we couldn’t… consummate.” you offered and he just shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this was the biggest inconvenience to him. 

you knew that this marriage was brought upon quickly and before either of you could object to it, but at least you tried to hide it away. if only he hadn’t acted so rashly that night, his hands on your shoulders, eyes bewildered as they racked over your figure. if only he had been more careful, or you were smarter in picking some place to be more concealed, you wouldn’t be put in this position. 

but neither of you was thinking ahead, and here you were. but he was certainly making sure that you knew of his contempt for this arrangement far more than you were. it was irritating, it scratched at your skin and ate away at your mind the more you saw each other.

“look,” he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, off of the way you were fiddling with the ring he had delicately placed on your hand so many weeks ago, “i can come up with whatever they ask, so just try your best to do the same.” you say, your voice tinged with anger, the ring on your finger acting as an anchor to the depths of the sea with the way it weighed down your movements, feeling your chest swell as he stayed silent, watching you as you opened the door. 

“i don’t-”

“um, i won’t be joining you for dinner, so don’t wait on me…i apologize, i need to work on some things for the feast…have a good day.” you swiftly murmured, shutting him in your own room as you left, your heart thumping erratically in your chest as you almost ran down the hallway. 

you had no idea how you were going to persuade the masses that this marriage was working if you couldn’t even persuade yourself. 

---

the feast of clans came earlier than you expected. 

you found yourself perched at the end of the table, gojo next to you, your stiff bodies mirroring each other as the people around you joyously helped themselves to the vast variety of food offered. 

you could barely touch the meal in front of you, your stomach churning uncomfortably with the sheer number of people that surrounded you. back home, you hated these feasts, opting to leave after a couple of bites and finish the rest of what you could pocket in your room, but here, as the clan leader's wife, you had no such luxury. 

“are you not hungry?” you looked to your side, gojo staring at your plate and then to you, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher what you were feeling.

“i can’t eat,” you murmured, playing with your utensils as you swallowed thickly, “i don’t do well in large crowds.” 

he nodded once, looking out into the sea of bodies as he inched a little bit closer to you. he was donned in expensive fabrics, although his hair still messily fell all over. the candle that was lit in front of you had different hues of oranges and reds bouncing off of his pale skin, and if you didn’t know any better, the blush on his nose and cheeks could have been from the frigid winds from outside. 

“i’ll have myra save you a plate,” he said, giving you a curt smile as he went back to eating. 

you were momentarily taken aback by his comment, but tried not to show it, going back to fidgeting with your ring as you looked at the sea of people. nobody had thankfully come up to you and bombarded you with questions, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to eventually happen. 

“thank you,” you say, glancing at him and then back to your plate. 

“anything for my wife,” he replies. it’s only for show, you remind yourself, after all, when was the last time he referred to you as such? 

“gojo,” an old man had walked up to your table, his face lined with wrinkles and a beard, dressed in orange as he offered gojo his hand to shake, “i’m glad to see that you finally settled down.”

gojo blushed deeply, trying to offer him a smile as he motioned to you. 

“it’s hard to resist marriage when such a woman offers it.” he says, and you feel your eyes widen as you try to laugh off his statement. 

“yes,” the old man chuckles, eyeing the two of you. he looked familiar, and you were sure you had seen him around these sorts of gatherings before, “it was only a matter of time before it happened. we all knew just how much you liked her back when you were children.”

the two of you sputtered on your coughs, and you felt a little smile grow on your face as gojo did what he could to usher the man away. 

you could tell with the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat that gojo wasn’t expecting that, and before you could realize what you were doing you found yourself talking. 

“i’m not a fan of feasts.” you quickly said, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them. it’s not like you felt you owed him an explanation, but you said it regardless. 

gojo looked up from his plate, grabbing his cup so he could wash down his bite. 

“any feast?” he asked, and you could feel the way the air shifted. he was glad you brought up a different topic. 

“one’s as big as this,” you twisted your ring back and forth on your finger subconsciously, “i get nervous in big crowds.”

“i remember,” a small smile grew on his face as he thought back to when the two of you were children, “you would hide under the tables and force me to come with you.” 

you chuckled, blood rushing to your ears at the fact that he remembered this about you. it was the bare minimum of what you remembered from him, but you had convinced yourself that he had washed every memory of your last selves from his mind. 

a rush of distant memories came to your head; nights spent under the tables, laughing as you two tried to keep your voices down as you tried to dodge the feet. you could still hear his whispers of staying quiet, trying to sneak out so he could smuggle in some pastries for you to eat.

“the adults scared me; they were always loud and insistent on asking personal questions.”

“like they are now?” he replied back, a tilt in his voice as you nodded feverishly. 

“yes!” you covered your mouth with your hand as you let out a laugh, a genuine one as you tried to look as put together as you could, “i swear, it’s even worse than when we were young. just the other day a wet nurse came to me and told me the best positions to get into when giving birth!” it really was a mortifying moment, your eyes darting all around as the old lady even took it upon herself to demonstrate the movements, but gojo didn’t seem to mind, laughing along with you. his eyes twinkled as they took in your giggly state, years since he had last seen you like this. 

“i feel like i should apologize,” he starts, having to cover his own infectious smile as he ducks down his head in shame, “i had her sent up to your chambers.”

your mouth dropped open in shock, lightly smacking his arm as he grinned at the look on your face.

“to mortify me so that i would never leave?” your thumb moves your ring back and forth and gojo watches you as you do it. 

“you seemed sick at breakfast, but i guess she thought it was a different sort of sickness.” gojo tells you as he cuts off some of his meat, not knowing just how much his words affected you. 

you had forgotten how simple and easy conversations were with gojo. although this was under a guise to fool people, you felt at ease with him, as if you didn’t have to be on guard with your emotions when he was around. 

“do you still want to hide under the table now?” he asked a couple of seconds later, chewing on a potato as you shrugged, looking around before your lips grew into an apologetic smile. 

“…yes,” you admitted bashfully and he smiled at your honest response. 

“if you want to hide, i’ll-”

“satoru!” a booming voice interrupted your endless spiral of thoughts as the two of you glanced upwards at the sound, “it’s been too long!” 

a man with hair as dark as night and a smile wider than any ocean had come up to your table. he was the first one to do so all night, but gojo didn’t seem bothered by it. he seemed to smile, crescents forming around his eyes as he took his friend's hand.

“too long,” he emphasized with a charming grin, motioning to you and then back to the man in front of you as if he suddenly remembered the two of you and never met, “suguru, this is my wife, y/n. y/n, this is one of my oldest friends.” 

you extended your hand outwards and the man, suguru, took it, placing a soft kiss on the back of it as he shot you a playful smile. he wasn’t at the wedding, but then yet again, it was a rather quick one. the only people who had attended were your families. 

“it’s a pleasure to meet you.” he greeted, and you nodded in agreement, sitting back down next to gojo. you felt his long fingers reach for yours, enveloping your hand in his as your heart sputtered at the touch. 

“likewise,” you answered and the man grinned politely before he slightly tilted his head, looking at the two of you sitting next to each other. 

“he’s not bothering you, is he? i know satoru can be fiendish when he wants to be, so call for me and i’ll take care of him.” he teased and you could only smile tightly and laugh along, gojo’s fingers slightly tightening around yours as he moved your hand to rest on his thigh. 

“i can take care of him when he’s fiendish. i just have to take the sugar away, right?” suguru snorted and gojo glared, but it was playful the way he looked at you. 

his hands were warmer than you would have expected. you could feel the indents of calluses on his fingertips, could feel his thumb moving back and forth on your skin in a calming sort of manner. he didn’t look over at you as he did it, playing it off as second nature. 

“i apologize for not having much time to get to know you, but i have something i need to talk to gojo about. would you mind? it will only take a minute?” he asked, and gojo let go of your hand at the time of his friend's voice. you had to control your urge to roll your eyes, shifting in your seat as you motioned for suguru to talk to your husband, watching as he stood from his seat, leaving with the man as they went somewhere a little more secluded. 

you watched as gojo leaned down to hear whatever it was that suguru was whispering in his ear, pulling back with a frown on his face. he snapped something that only caused suguru to reel back, cast a quick glance at you, and then shake his head in clear annoyance. 

you saw gojo look up, his eyes landing on somebody from across the room, and you followed his stare, only to land on a girl. 

she wore a dark yellow tunic and skirt, colors from a neighboring clan. you hadn’t seen her before, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t known. just one look at the men surrounding her and you could pick up on their lovesick expressions. 

she motioned for gojo to come to her with a bend of her finger, slyly brushing her hair out of her face to make it look as though it was nothing, exiting from the dining area and vanishing into one of the halls. 

you looked down in case either of the men glanced over to see if you were staring. your eyes pierced through the meat on your plate, bile rising up your throat. 

you gave yourself some time, counting up to a minute before you looked back to where suguru and gojo were, finding suguru standing alone. you looked at where the girl was and saw a flash of white hair before it disappeared, your heart sinking as you glanced back at suguru, only to find him looking at you. 

you looked back at your plate, picking up a knife and fork as you stabbed the meat. you couldn’t keep anything down but it’s best to pretend.

---

gojo didn’t return until half an hour later, and you refused to talk to him. 

“did anybody bombast you with questions?” he teased, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. he didn’t seem to pick up on your darkened mood as your fingers dug into your dress. 

“i had a woman ask me if you had disappeared with your mistress, but that was it.” you remarked, silence filling the void between the two of you and you realized that all you had thought of him was crumbling down. 

you didn’t care for your image anymore, giving curt answers to any questions somebody had asked. you could feel his stare on the side of your face but you didn’t humor him in looking over, focusing on your plate instead. 

so what if he was seeing somebody else? you would have been naive to think that he wouldn’t wander. the two of you barely touched each other. 

once all the guests had left over the course of the following days, you did everything you could to steer away from gojo. 

you no longer came down for breakfast or dinner, choosing to eat in your own quarters. if he wanted to have his own secrets, he could do whatever he pleased. 

though you rarely saw suguru after the feast, he did try to talk to you the morning after it took place. he cornered you after you had left from breakfast, his once playful demeanor turned serious as you tried your best to end the conversation. 

“what you saw last night-”

“is none of my business,” you finished, raising your hand as you cut him off, “if gojo has his own private matters to deal with, i’m indifferent to them all.” 

“you know that’s not what it was.” his hand hovered over your arm, careful not to touch you but not wanting you to leave either. 

“i ruined his life, didn’t i?” you tilted your head a bit in questioning. after all, that’s all you could hear from the women who gossiped as they folded the laundry, or behind the hands of the girls who watched you and gojo interact and the mothers who wanted their daughters to be set up with him only sneered at you from across the tables. 

“you…where’d you get that from?” his brows scrunched together in confusion as you scoffed, hoping he couldn’t see the tears welling in the corner of your eyes at the sting of your own words. 

“i can see it on his face. if gojo wants to have his own affairs, he can have them. it’s not like we’re in love. hopefully, i find my own way out so that the two of us look happier and this marriage looks somewhat presentable to the public.” 

you didn’t want to see the look on his face, but you’re sure he reported this all back to gojo because he didn’t look at you once after it. 

you heard from a maid a week later that he was gone for another meeting with a clan, a southern one from what you picked up, and that you should probably go and wish him some luck. 

leading up to the night of his departure you anxiously paced around your room, your feet padding on the floor as your nightgown swished behind you. 

you hadn’t talked to gojo at all that day, and purposefully so. 

it was petty, you know it was, to not want to see him, but a part of you still aches when you look back on that night. at how he didn’t explain where he was even after you asked, at how it was suguru he had sent to fix his dirty work for him. 

“y/n?” a muffled voice came from outside your door. 

your head shot up at the familiar sound, quietly dragging yourself out from your bed as you grabbed the candle, hovering on the other side as you waited for him to say something else. 

“are you awake?” you heard a soft thud from his side, almost as if his head or arm had hit the door. 

you didn’t answer, still, waiting. 

“i’m leaving tomorrow and i wanted to see you before i left.” your heart skipped at his words, careful not to make a sound as you near the door. 

“if you’re sleeping i won’t bother you anymore but if you’re not,” you could hear the old stutter he had coming back, his words meshing together as he tried to regain control, “and you’re choosing to stay quiet, i…” he sighed, his forehead thumping down as he rested it on the door, “i wanted to apologize for the feast. i shouldn’t have left you alone, and if you’d open the door, i would explain why…” he could see the flicker of the candle from underneath the crack, and saw the way it blew away, darkness following suit. 

you walked back to your bed, turning your back to the door as you set the candle down on your table. 

“goodnight,” his voice was quieter than before, and you felt guilty, but pushed the bitter feeling down.

a couple of seconds later you heard him let out a sigh of defeat, his footsteps leading away from your bedroom as you curled into yourself, hoping you would let your heart stop taking control of what your head should be doing. 

---

gojo didn’t return for a while, and you grew more impatient by the day. 

it normally took him and his men a week at maximum, and once two had passed, you felt yourself growing uneasy. 

you tried to act as passive as you could, but even myra could pick up on your growing apprehension. you have never voiced your worries over your husband before, but she knew this wasn’t like any other time. 

when you went to bed, the only thing you could dream about was that night, your brain re-running the images as you tossed and turned. 

“are you alright?” he asked, his hands on your elbows as you could barely speak, your blurry vision impairing your sight. you could only see a mop of white in the darkness, your stomach betraying you as you tried to keep the sick down. 

“i don’t feel too good,” you mumbled, trying to put some distance between the two of you as you pushed him away, only to feel him coming closer as he placed a hand on your forehead and then to your cheeks. 

“you’re burning up,” he muttered under his breath, guiding you gently so that you wouldn’t trip over your feet. 

“i’m sorry, you can go back inside, i don’t want to keep you out here.” you were slurring your words as you tried not to throw up on him. you wiped at your eyes so that you could see him better, only to reel back in utter shock to see the face of your childhood friend frowning down at you. 

your mouth formed in the shape of his name, going to say something else, before you hunched over, feeling his strong hands pat your back and keep the hair out of your face as you felt your world tilt on its axis. 

you ate your dinner at the table, eyeing his empty seat as you tried to shove his last night out of your mind. you shouldn’t feel this way, especially about a man who feels nothing towards you, but your little heart was churning in its confines the more you let yourself think about it.

sitting in the same spot where the feast took place only brought back the venomous taste in your mouth, and so you pretended that you were back home, eating somewhere without the worry of your life weighing you down like a thousand weights on your shoulders. 

myra tried her best to distract you, but she could see the distant look in your eyes, how your voice never seemed too genuine. she began to worry for you, but it seemed like your mind was fixed on one thing. 

until you found yourself pacing around your room, just like you were the night you last heard of him, playing with the ring on your finger as the moon carded through your window. 

“my lady,” you heard myra through the door, her voice shaky and a bit more on edge than usual, “there’s-” but before she could finish it slammed open, revealing the man you’d been biting your nails over, standing in the flesh.

his eyes were a dark blue, squinted as they looked right through you. his chest heaved as he looked like he was trying to catch his breath. you could see the streaks of blood that lined his usually clean clothes, the red that stained his cheeks and jaw. 

he looked feral, and it was throwing you off balance. 

“out.” he snapped at myra, and before you could scold him for his tone she fled, the door shutting roughly behind her. 

the two of you could only stare at each other. you didn’t know what to think after weeks of uselessly worrying over him, not knowing about his well-being, to see him here, in front of you, but looking different than he ever had. 

“are you alright?” 

you could barely get it out, the works sticking on your tongue as you took a tentative step forward, not knowing what to do with his state of being. 

he eyed the blood on his shirt, wiping at his cheeks as if he had forgotten it was there. he didn’t look too dirty, less dirty than one would expect from a five week endeavor through the woods, but he didn’t look too good either. 

“you were awake.” is all he says, his chest still moving up and down as though he couldn’t breathe properly. 

“that night i came by, you were awake. i saw your candle, i heard your footsteps.” he says this as though it’s fighting its way out of his mouth as if it’s all he could think about to tell you. 

“i,” you pretend that you don’t care, shrugging, “i wasn’t up to talk.” 

“you were with suguru.” he snaps, his tone shocking you, and he steps back as if he had shocked himself. he jammed his palms into his eyes, tilting his head upwards before he looked back at you. 

“for five weeks you were all i could think about. i wanted to come back, i wanted to tell you what i felt but we kept running into issues with other tribes and clans.” 

“what could you possibly think about that occupied your mind for five weeks?” you so desperately wanted your voice to come out strong but it sounded weak, as though you were hanging off of his every syllable. 

“you had told suguru that you were going to find your…own way out,” he took a step forward, and here you could see the scratches on his chest, the cuts on his arms, “i was praying to every god there was that you hadn’t found somebody in these past weeks, that you hadn’t…”

you could barely believe his words, not knowing if you should feel offended, shocked, worried, or a mix of all those three. 

“what business would it be to you if i did?” you hate that this was the response you settled on. hurt flashed across his face but he tried to regain his composure. 

“you are my wife-”

“and you are my husband!” you snapped and watched as he was momentarily taken aback by your outburst, but you continued your nose flaring, “you cannot argue with me on this when you left with some girl in the middle of our feast!” you felt all your emotions finally pouring out and you had no control over them, “everybody was talking about it, everybody was looking at me in pity!” your voice cracked, tears poking at your eyes as you pointed an accusatory finger at him. 

gojo looked down, running a hand through his hair as he pointed a finger back. 

“if you had let me explain myself, you would have known that she was trying to do what you thought she was. i left as quickly as i could but you would barely look at me!” you wanted to rip your hair out, cursing yourself for ever feeling any sort of worry for this man. 

“i know that this marriage was the last thing you wanted but at least you could play the part of a husband! you didn’t send a single note, anything to tell us that you were okay, that you were alive!” you heaved, fidgeting with your ring as you wiped at your cheeks, “and you come back here accusing me of adultery? all everybody could talk about was the fact that you were warming somebody else’s bed! they said a meeting never takes this long unless something…somebody else comes up.” your voice wobbles at the end, and you find yourself furiously rubbing your tears away, hiding your sniffing as though that would do anything.  

he paused upon seeing you cry, his face falling as he tried to step forward but you angled yourself away from him, hoping he’d get the hint. 

he wanted to hold you, to tell you that all the rumors you were hearing were false and that the only room he had left in his heart was for you. but he couldn’t blame you for feeling or thinking this way. hell, he was so sure that he’d open the door to find another man comforting you that he didn’t even stop to consider what must have been going through your head all these weeks. 

“one of the clans tried to attack us, and we weren’t ready for it. that is why we took so long.” 

you sniffle again, not caring for his explanation although it did soothe a part of your past self. 

“you could have at least sent a letter telling me what happened,” you fidget with your ring, your thumb running over the diamond, “everybody asked me questions that i should have had answers to, but i had no idea where you were or what you were doing…” he nods, his lips pressed into a thin line as he agreed with you. 

“you're right,” his voice was thick with emotion, the words slurring in his mouth as he found himself anchored in place, not knowing what to do. but you were rambling, your thoughts going on and on and you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“…but i know you don’t like letters, so the least you could have done was send a parchment saying i’m alive or something like that.” you rub at your nose again, feeling like all the weeks of worry we’re coming to a standpoint. 

he looked confused now, if anything, and scratched at his jaw. 

“what do you mean?” 

you scoff at the audacity, rolling your eyes as you feel anger prickle at your skin. 

“you never once responded to any of my letters. in my eyes, that must mean you have some sort-”

“letters? what letters?” 

you glance at him, taking in his shaking form. 

“come on gojo,” you feel embarrassed as he urges you to speak, having to spell it out for him, his eyes pleading with you to continue, “the ones from when you left for training.”

his mouth opens and then closes, looks at the ground and then back up to you as he shakes his head. you could hear your fireplace crackling in the background. the only sounds circling the room were the pops of ember and your breathing. 

“i…” he feels like there’s cotton in his mouth, hoping that you’re lying, “i never got any letters.” 

the fire crackled once again and you could almost hear a pin drop as you shook your head vehemently at his statement. 

“n-no, no you did. i wrote to you every week, i sent one every week for two years and you never responded and my mother said that you must have forgotten about me…” and you trail off, the tears in your eyes stoning as he furiously wipes at his own eyes, and for the first time since you had seen him fall down when he was a kid, you saw his own tears staining his cheeks. 

“nobody gave me your letters. i thought that you,” he takes a deep breath, tongue poking inside his cheek as he tried to control himself, “i thought that you didn’t care for me anymore.” 

you hug your midsection, your emotions running wild at his words. 

“i was under the impression that you hated me.” you admit, and he looks as though you stabbed him through the heart. if only others could see the powerful warrior now, stripped bare to his conscience and all he could think about was you. 

“why…why would you think such a thing?” you two inch closer without knowing it, longing to touch each other, wanting to know that the other was really there and that this wasn’t a figment of your imaginations. 

“gojo, you could barely looked at me that night at the gala and now it seems as though you, well, look at you - you’re flushed!” you’re grasping at straws, motioning towards his face,  twinged with pink as you rub at your nose, “you seem angry whenever i am near-” 

“the only person i am angry at is myself.” gojo whispers, but his voice echoed around the expanse of your skull. 

“yes, i’m aware,” you feel cold despite the fire in the corner, your tone carrying an air of know as you scorn, “i know the last thing you expected by comforting me was a marriage but-” 

“you think i am angry because i married you?” he was moving closer, his hands shaking, his eyes wet. you could see the ring on his finger glow in the dim light of the fireplace, how it shined brighter than any of the night skies, “the only good thing that has happened to me these last few months was being able to introduce myself as your husband. i know that i stripped you bare of any love you may have had for any other man, but call me selfish for feeling glad that i did.” 

you could barely focus on what was happening, his words sinking deep into your skin, going to your bones. 

“i told myself that you had forgotten about me those years i left. when i saw you that night i was so sure you had come with the intention of finding a suitor that i didn’t want to distract you, but then i saw that man come up to you…” and he couldn’t finish, choking on his words as he stuttered, and you saw a glimpse of the boy you had fallen in love with so long ago. 

“and i followed you out. if i knew that simply being alone with you would have gotten me married to you then i would have cornered you in a closet the moment i saw you enter the dining hall.” 

a tear rolls down your chin, splattering on the ground beneath you as you struggle to make sense of what he was saying. it felt as though the months of being married to him were weeks spent pacing around your own rooms, thinking the same worried thoughts, and not having the strength to confront each other about it. 

“you…you don’t hate me?” your voice is timid, almost not believing yourself as the statement tumbled out. gojo had the audacity to laugh a bit, shaking his head as strands of his hair fell into his face. 

“my every waking moment is spent thinking of you. when i was in training, you were all i could dream about, hoping that when i’d come home i could finally have you to myself. 

“you have control over my emotions, my mind, my soul, and i cursed myself for taking away your options for a husband, but the only thing i’ve wanted to do these past few weeks was to hold you in my arms. to tell you just how deeply i yearn for your love back.” 

he wiped at his cheeks, glistening in the faint light. he looked angelic, despite the grime and blood that decorated his clothing. you didn’t want to think about the men he had killed just to come back, to come back to you, and the thought of ever losing him hurt you more than when you spent nights wondering why he never responded to any of your letters. 

you couldn’t stop your feet from leading you toward him, and you could only watch as he met you in the middle, catching you with all his strength, holding you as if you weighed nothing, and it only took a few seconds before your lips collided. 

it was rushed, and messy as you felt his hands holding you as if you carried the weight of the universe. your teeth clashed, your tears staining each other's skin as your hands gripped at his hair, using it for leverage as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, enjoying the whimper that escaped your lips when he nipped at yours. 

it was what years of longing and desperation felt like. how it felt like you two just molded into each other as if your bodies were cut out with the other in mind. you felt like your heart was about to stop beating, and you knew gojo felt the same with the way he’d whine against your lips, wanting you more than you could have ever imagined. 

“we’ve been stupid people, haven’t we?” you whispered as you pulled away, trying to catch your breath as he smiled against you. if only you knew just how much he’d been wanting to kiss you like this, to see your swollen lips as you looked at him from beneath your eyelashes. you were his venus, his only saving grace, and he could only vex himself for ever making you feel anything but love. 

“very, “ he pressed a kiss to the corner of your eyes, “very,” to your nose, “stupid,” his lips were on your cheeks, feeling like he was breathing in new air at the sound of your laughter, “people.” he pressed his lips to yours again, cherishing in the way you whined at the harshness. 

he had spent months convincing himself that you no longer cared for him. weeks of perilous training to only come back to a bed and dream of a girl who didn’t share his emotions when in reality you did. he wants to track down the letters you had sent him, to read every word carefully, as if each sentence carried its own riddle inside of it. he wanted to apologize for never having the honor of experiencing your skilled penmanship, for leading you to believe that he had simply forgotten about you. 

“gojo,” your fingers curl in his tunic, your heat transferring, trying to be rational in such an irrational state of being, “you’re bleeding, i should call for the doctor.” he didn’t stop kissing your face, moving to your jaw as he smiled hearing you shudder. 

“it’s not my blood,” he murmured and you wanted to smack him for how cocky he sounded, “and don’t call me gojo.” he nipped at your lips again. 

“husband?” you found yourself smiling at the title, but he shook his head. you saw how he was trying to hide his own grin. 

“sire?” you tested it out teasingly, hating how it sounded. he seemed to agree with the way he grimaced at the name. 

“my lord?” he wanted to bottle up your laughter forever, knowing he could get drunk off of the sound. his nose nudged up at your jaw, pressing wet kisses wherever he could. 

“hmm, what about my liege?” you're curling a strand of his hair around your fingers letting him settle you down on your vanity as you spread your legs so he could slot between them. 

“my men call me that.” he says, cringing as it falls off your mouth. you pretend to think, not knowing how you were able to live without this banter for as long as you did. 

“satoru?” you felt breathless saying it after so long. but he still didn’t seem to find it satisfactory enough, a pout on his lips as he wanted you to find a better one. 

“close, but only when you’re angry with me.” you tuck that information in the back of your mind for if you ever need to scold him, your cheeks flushed as he interlocks his fingers through yours. 

“‘toru…?” his lips broke into a giddy smile, and you had to control yourself as he swooped back in for a kiss. his eyes were so much softer when he laughed, the kind ones you fell in love with so many nights ago. 

“there it is,” his voice was husky, raw as your fingers gripped at the baby hairs at his nape. he was taking your air away with him and you couldn’t find it in yourself to fight back for it. 

“i forgot how cheeky you can be,” you bite your lip to keep the moans inside, feeling feverish as his tongue ran over his love marks, not knowing what to do yourself as you scrambled to grab onto something to keep you afloat.

“you have no idea how much self-control it’s taken not to ravage you,” his breath is hot on your skin, and he’s tugging at your shirt, fingers slightly brushing upon your breasts, “every night you’d come down for dinner i wanted something different to eat.”

“stoppp,” you mewled, not used to this. he chuckles as his slender fingers work to untie the knot keeping you together, tugging at the string until it falls, revealing your naked chest, heaving as the fabric pooled at your hips. 

you wanted to cover yourself up under his heavy gaze, to take the fabric and hide, but you felt pierced by his stare. his eyes darted to yours as if checking to see if you were okay. when you gave him a timid nod, it seemed as though it prompted him to finally move. 

his fingers were gentle as they ran across your waist, large as they covered the soft of your stomach, eager as they went upwards. he looked like he was crazed and starved, as if you were his last meal and he couldn’t wait for the sweetness death would give. 

your breath stuttered as his fingers found your mounds, rubbing a soothing thumb over your nipples as his pupils grew. he was eager as he flicked them over and over, a cheshire grin growing as they hardened under his touch. 

“you’re perfect,” he murmured, dropping down so he could suckle at your tits, his spit shining in the light of the fire, and you tilted your head back, soft moans escaping as his tongue drew circles around your buds. 

“f-fuck, ‘toru, that’s,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, his second hand coming to cup your other tit, not wanting to leave her unattended as he sucked and bruised, wanting to forever leave his mark on your untainted skin. 

“good?” he’s so cocky, and you want to smack the smug smirk off his devilishly handsome face. 

his knee is purposefully rubbing against your clothed clit, and you feel yourself subconsciously rubbing yourself against it. you hope that he can’t feel how drenched you are from him just sucking your tits, but he pinches you, pressing his tongue flat against your skin as he looks up through his lashes.

“horny from just me touching you?” he’s teasing you, it’s so painful the way you want, need him like oxygen. you tug on his hair roughly, bringing his spit-soaked lips back to yours as you bite down on his lower one, enjoying the groan you draw out from him. 

“don’t be mean ‘toru,” you taunt, and you feel him melt in your fingers, nodding to your request as he lowers himself down. 

he presses wet kisses down your torso, stopping just above your hips, his fingers hooking along the rim of your underwear, being careful and slow in his movements as he waits for any objections, making sure you’re okay with this. 

but you were in your own world, hitching your leg over his shoulders, drawing him in closer to you, sweat dotting your forehead as he licks a stripe over the cotton on your pussy, smiling to himself at the taste of you. 

you were so sweet, sweeter than any desert he’d indulge himself on. he was sure that once he had a taste of you he’d be able to repent, to go before any god, and to tell them that you were his religion.

he had spent countless nights, tossing and turning in his bed, the only thing putting him to sleep being the idea of coming home to you. running after you that night was him running home to you, regardless of where you were. he was glad he got your hand in marriage, but if he had to, he’d wait another ten years just to hold you in his arms again.

he peels your underwear off, a string of your arousal connecting to it, and he tucks it in his pants, for safekeeping. 

“you’re going to be the death of me.” he says against your heat, his nose rubbing against your clit as your eyes wring shut in pleasure. his hands grip your thighs, making sure you stay in place as he kitten licks around where you need him the most. 

“don’t let…don’t let any of your enemies hear,” your voice comes out in bits, your hand resting on the back of his head as your leg tightens around him, “don’t want them to come after me or something.” 

he snorts, pinching your thighs as if anybody could come within a ten feet radius of you without losing an eye. 

his lips come closer to where you desperately want him, a finger prodding at your tight entrance, his tongue finding your clit as he begins to suck. 

it’s all too much, the sensations far better than your own fingers have ever proved to be. 

his fingers are skilled, long enough that they reach deep within you. he sinks one fully in, your walls clamping around him as he continues sucking your clit, his teeth grazing it every so often, making your head thump against the wall. 

“talk to me, how do you feel?” his mouth discontented from your bud and you whine at the loss. he sinks in another finger to make up for it, but he doesn’t move them, waiting for your response. 

“‘s good,” one of your hands is fisting your discarded robe, trying to hold onto your senses as you desperately nod, “don’t stop ‘toru, please,” and he obliges, loving the sounds of your begging, but loving the sound of your pleasures more. 

his fingers stretch you open and you welcome the sting, your nails digging into him as you long for more. 

he switches his mouth with his hand every now and then, his tongue taking the place of his fingers as it licks at you, groaning at your taste as he eats you out with his entire being, his chin shining with your essence and his spit as his thumb rubs furiously at your clit. 

“mmhhh, just like that, fuck!” you’ve never heard your voice at this pitch, never knew it was possible to feel this way. his other hand reaches up to flick at your nipple, the extra sensation making white dot around your vision. 

you feel yourself getting closer to the sweet release, feel your wall clamp around him even tighter as that knot in your stomach builds to a crescendo. 

“come on, let go f’me, know you want to, know you can.” he spurs you on, his fingers unrelenting as they piston in and out of you, reaching that gummy spot that makes you go dumb.

“fuck, ‘toru, m’gonna, m’gonna come!” you cry out and you’re sure anybody walking past you could hear the debauchery. your thighs were starting to shake and you felt it all go black as you reached your high, your orgasm washing over you unlike anything you’ve ever felt. 

you creamed around his fingers, gushing around him as you wailed out, tears dotting your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling. you squeezed around him, wanting to never lose what this felt like, trying to catch your breath as his mouth never stopped sucking at your nub before he was sure your climax was over. 

when he finally pulled away the only thing that could be heard was the two of you, trying to come back down as stupid smiles made their way onto each of your faces. 

he was boyishly charming as he stood in front of you, licking yourself off of his fingers as he grinned at the taste. you couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed after having him just between your legs, but you still felt a heat blossom in your chest. 

“so…” you awkwardly start, sweat dripping down your face from just how hot the room had suddenly gotten as you avert your gaze, “what now?” 

he shrugged nonchalantly, despite the fact that his heart was about to beat it’s way out of his chest. you let him pick you off of the vanity and tucked you safely away into his chest as he led you to your bed, gently setting you down in your mountain of pillows and blankets as you felt sleep etch away at you. 

“i’m going to clean you up,” he pressed a kiss to your hair, smiling at the way you giddy smiled at whatever he did, a dopey grin on your face as your hand searched for his, interlocking you fingers with his as if you didn’t want to watch him go, “if you let me.” 

you yawn, your head tilting as he sat down at the edge of your bed, still not letting go of your hand as your fingers run through the soft pelts beneath you. 

“and what about you?” your chin points the obvious hard-on growing in his pants. he looks down as if suddenly realizing, and he plays it off by looking back up to you with a wink. you felt your mouth going dry at the size of it, not knowing if you could even be able to take something as big as that. 

“for another day,” he promises, and you’re sure he’s not going to forget it. not like you want him to.

“and then?” 

your question lingers in the air. you don’t want to wake up to him acting like this never happened, as if your feelings were only a figment of your wildest dreams. but his eyes hold onto yours, never letting go as he brushes some strays away from your face. 

“and then i get a bigger bed for my room because there’s no way i’m letting you sleep here alone after this.” his thumb runs along the palm of your hand, his fingers tracing patterns into the soft of your legs. 

“and then?” 

“and then you tell me all the things i missed out on when i was gone. i’ll tell you about the time suguru shaved my head, and you’ll tell me about anything on your mind.” 

“what if i run out of things to say?” sleep is overtaking your voice, and you’re already nodding off, not even truly knowing what you were asking. 

“then i’ll make up stories so that you’re not bored.” he finds a clean towel, soaking it in water from a nearby pitcher as he drags it slowly across your body, as if your fragile and made of porcelain. 

“how do i know you’re not a dream? you might just be,” you yawn, rubbing at your eyes as your finger traces his ring, “you might just be my own mind tricking me.” your eyes are shutting, but the teasing smile on your face never leaves. 

“because a dream wouldn’t hide under a table with you if you asked.” he whispers, kissing your lips with a soft peck as he pulls the blanket over you, letting you sleep into a slumber as he crawls in next to you, holding you to his chest just as he did that night, just as he will every night from now on, and just as he longed for those nights he wished you next to him.

[sluttysnowangel666]

His Second Wife - cregan stark x reader (request)

summary: two years following the death of cregan’s first wife, he accepts an undesired marriage proposal to rhaenyra targaryen’s daughter. rhaenyra’s daughter, who had loved cregan the moment she first met him as a young girl, immediately loves and accepts cregan’s first child as her own. yet it is still not enough for cregan to find his own love for his new wife.

cw: mean cregan😓, widow!cregan, targ!reader, loss of virginity(reader), rhaenyra’s daughter, angst to fluff, unrequited love, sex, happy ending

do yall notice i always post a long ass story usually around midnight or later ( i’m unwell)also this is long af soz it was a detailed request and I wanted it to be to a T. this is SOO long. i prolly should have done two parts… oh well @lillithsalvatore hope you enjoy it love ❤️

“How do you feel, my love?” Your mother asked, placing a warm and comforting hand on yours.

You sighed. “Nervous.”

She gave you that warm and sweet smile of hers. “I know. I hope you know this choice was not easy for me to make, as I know this was a hard task for me to place upon you.”

“I know, mother.” You say with forgiveness, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Had it been any other lord I would have surely declined but… Starks are the most honorable among men. I know your union will be blessed by the gods.”

You give her a smile, blindly trusting her words. You had met him once, and you knew he was kind. In fact, he had left a paw shaped imprint on your heart. You thought to yourself no union could be more suitable. You knew he had married once before out of a prior marital alliance, but the marriage had been short lived, lasting only a year before his first wife died in her birthing chambers.

It took more than four moons before you arrived at Winterfell, as if every power in the world was set on preventing it. You were not a superstitious person, so you simply thought all the bad things that happened prior to your marriage was coincidence.

Each time you went to leave, something prevented you. Your mother miscarried your baby sister, Lucerys was killed by Aemond, Daemon went silent at Harrenhall, Rhaena ran away and was lost in the eyrie before revealing she claimed Sheep-stealer.

You arrived in the dead of winter, and the journey had not been kind to you. You got a chill on the way up, causing you to stop at an inn for a few nights, you had came across raiders who killed one of the many men escorting you, and your clothes were ill suited for the weather.

You did eventually arrive at Winterfell thankfully, all in one piece.

You stepped out of the carriage cautiously, eyeing the snowy landscape surrounding you. It went as far as the eye could see. You held your hand out, letting the thick snowflakes fall and melt in your hand.

“My princess.” You turn to see Cregan, walking towards you. He bows, forcing a politeness. “Winterfell is yours.”

You bow in return, “No need for such formalities, Lord Stark. This is your home, and I am honored to have you welcome me here.”

He nods, choosing to say nothing else to you.

“Please show the princess to her chambers.” He says to one of the servants, then immediately turning on his heels to leave. Your jaw falls slightly, surprised at his curt demeanor.

You compose yourself, trying to hide the slight hurt in your features before making your way to your private chambers.

You bathed immediately, welcoming the hot water against your skin. No water could be hot enough for your dragon blood, but what they had drawn up for you would do nicely.

Your wedding was a week after your arrival, the lord having given you time to settle in. You had not seen him much during that week so you chose not to bother him, assuming he was busy with duties.

When you walked down that snowy path to the red weirwood, Cregan stole a glance at you. You looked beautiful, and he felt horribly guilty for thinking it. He felt like what he was doing was betraying her.

You said your vows, swearing your love before the old gods. You smiled at Cregan and he gave you a forced one in return. Guilt wracked his whole body. He felt guilty for you, knowing he wouldn’t be able to give you a union where you were loved, he felt guilty for liking your smile, he felt guilty for forgetting hers.

There was a feast following the ceremony, nothing large due to the pains of winter, but it didn’t bother you. The small gathering felt intimate, compared to southern weddings where lords and ladies travelled from all over the realm to witness it.

It was here you met Cregan’s son, Rickon.

“Hi, little one.” You said. He was only two, a fat little babe who looked just like Cregan.

“Rickon, this is my new wife.” Cregan said. The way he worded it made you twitch, it had sounded so strained. He didn’t even use your name. You told the boy the name he could call you, but he said nothing as he hid behind his father’s leg.

“I apologize.” Cregan said, his voice showing no sign that he actually was sorry.

“It is alright, my lord. He is just a babe. He and I will have time to get to know each other.” You said. Cregan tensed up, suddenly remembering again this union was forever.

“Excuse me, princess.” He said, turning and walking away with Rickon. Your heart sunk a bit. You could start to sense it now, Cregan was not in the slightest invested in your union together. You felt lost, out of place suddenly.

You sat back down at the high table, overwhelmed with nervousness. You bit at your nails and the skin around them, biting until they bled. You missed your mother dearly. Being here, in this room among strangers who didn’t care much for southerners to begin with, made you feel small.

You had sat there for an hour or two, not moving or eating once, save for your cuticles.

Cregan came to you, not noticing your nervous state. If he had noticed, he chose to ignore it. “I’ve put Rickon down… Would you please accompany me to my chambers?”

You looked at him, the nail bed of your thumb resting between your teeth. You nodded, standing and staring at the hall one last time. You locked eyes with a man, who noticed you both about to take your leave.

“Is it time for the bedding ceremony, Lord Stark?” The man asked, erupting a few cheers from the men mostly.

“No!” Cregan nearly barked the order. “There will be no bedding ceremony.”

The men in the crowd shuffled awkwardly at his outburst but accepted.

“Princess.” Cregan said, walking away and not waiting to see if you were following.

You did anyway, struggling to keep up with his quick pace. You had the sense he wanted this to be over with quickly.

He held the door as you both entered his chambers. You took in your surroundings. It was a clean and large kept room with a lit hearth and a large bed. A thought passed your mind, even though you tried to push it down.

Did he share these chambers with her?

Cregan began to take off his armor and furs, again not watching to see if you did the same, only assuming you were. If you weren’t, he didn’t care.

“Um, could you help, my lord?” You asked, referring to the laces of your white wedding dress.

He sighed, walking over to you as you turned your back to him. Your eyes welled with tears, but you tried to hide it.

His hands were gentle with the laces, not tugging at them as you expected him to. He obviously had experience doing this before.

He grew emotional as he undid your dress, but he hid it well. It was a weird sense of deja vu. Your hair looked like hers from the back and he felt like he was back at his first wedding.

You pushed the dress off, revealing the sheer linen soft dress underneath. He hadn’t moved from behind you, trying to maintain his composure. You walked away from him, lying on the bed and biting your nails again.

He finished disrobing besides his briefs, and you stole a glance at his back. It was huge, muscular and scarred.

He walked over to the bed, getting between your legs and pushing up your shift.

“Is this alright with you, princess?” He asks. “We need not consummate this if you are not ready.”

For the first time it seemed like he kinda cared about how you felt. His hand still had a hold of your shift, which was resting on your pelvic bone.

You nodded, “Is it alright with you, Lord Stark?”

He nodded, pushing your shift up the rest of the way to reveal your chest. He wanted to fall on his sword for the way he kept stealing glances at your breasts.

He pushed his briefs down, and you choked on your breath at the reveal of his length.

“Oh, gods.” You mumbled under your breath.

He rubbed himself against your slit, and your heart stilled for a minute. The feeling was foreign and intense.

He gently grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from your mouth. You hadn’t even realized you were still doing it, it was starting to become like breathing. A natural, unintentional habit.

Your hands fell to his biceps to steady yourself. You looked at him, but he did not meet your gaze. He instead bowed his head, watching himself enter inside you.

You dug your nails into his arm, gasping in shock. He gently shushed you, telling you it was okay.

“Please, please.” You said, not knowing what you were even pleading for.

“What?” He asked gently, his voice low and almost mimicking of your whining. It sent a shiver up your spine.

He was slow and gentle with you, not in it for any pleasure himself.

You touched his chest and his hair and his arms, and while he didn’t stop you he made no effort to touch you himself. His hands rested beside your head, holding up his weight.

Your hands found his arms again and you moaned softly, feeling your peak building in your stomach. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead to his head, moaning as you spilled onto him. He closed his eyes as he felt it, and guilt wracked him again.

He gently pulled out of you and stood up, immediately dressing himself into his nightwear. You pushed your shift back down and pulled the linen covers over you, immediately going back to biting your nails at his reaction.

He laid beside you, not facing you and not saying anything.

You said nothing, but it hadn’t gone unnoticed how he intentionally avoided spilling himself into you.

———

It had been 3 months since your arrival to Winterfell, and you had adjusted as well as you could given the circumstances.

You did not often see your lord husband, but you were used to it. He spent a lot of his free time in the crypt where she was. It hurt, but you gave him his peace and he appreciated that you didn’t hover.

“Mummy!”

“Sh, sh, love.” You say as Rickon runs into your chambers.

Cregan did not like when Rickon called you his mother. He’d gotten upset with you a few times over it, and you assured him you would correct Rickon when it happened.

“Mummy.” He repeated. You giggled. pulling him into your lap. You shook your head and tapped his nose, saying, “Nooo. Not mummy.”

“Mummy.” He laughed, and you ran your fingers through his thick brown curls.

“What ever will we do with this mop on your head, my son?”

“He is not your son.” You turned to see Cregan standing in the door way. “And his hair is fine.”

“Apologies, my lord.” You said, curtly. He ignored your attitude.

“Come, Rickon.” He said, beckoning his son.

“No, mummy.” Rickon whined, holding you.

“Go see papa.” You told him, and with your blessing Rickon ran to Cregan.

Cregan gave you a cold stare as he left, and you returned the favor.

You were growing ever so agitated with your husband. He had welcomed you into Winterfell, but not his heart. The only time you both had shared a bed was the night of your wedding, to which Cregan had made sure not to give you an heir.

You had no one. Rickon had you, Cregan had you even if he did not want you, yet you were alone here in Winterfell.

You decided to write to your mother on Dragonstone, requesting for Jacaerys to pick you up on dragon back so you could visit your family and hopefully receive advice. You had left your dragon, Silverwing, at home. You did not want to disrespect the already hesitant northern people, and you did not want Silverwing to be cold or hungry.

That night when you were brushing your hair before bed, there was a knock on your door.

“Come in.” You looked in the mirror and saw Cregan’s half sister, Sara, enter.

“Hi, Sara.” You said. She came up behind you, taking the brush from your hand and slowly combing it through your hair. You two had formed a unique bond, given you were both considered outcasts in Winterfell. You were a southerner, she was a bastard. They were two sides of the same coin here in Winterfell.

“I heard what happened today.” She said, and you hummed mindlessly. “My brother can be a bastard.”

You smiled at her in the mirror. “Is that so?”

She nods. “I wish I knew what to do, Sara.”

“We northerners love hard, princess. We are unwaveringly loyal. The wound of losing Aly is still fresh in my brother’s heart. Give him time. He knows you love Rickon, and that scares him. I don’t know why.”

“Was Aly pretty?” You ask.

“You have a southern beauty we do not see often in the North. Aly was not a beautiful woman, but she was a fierce fighter. That is how history will remember her. She was born fighting, and she died fighting. I know you are a fierce fighter as well, princess. You are the blood of the dragon. Do not let the grief my brother holds make you feel small.” She kisses the back of your head. “Throw a fucking book at his head if he acts like that again.”

You laugh, her joke comforting you. She turns and leaves you alone, your head clouded with thoughts of Aly.

You heard back from Jacaerys within a few days that he would arrive shortly to bring you home. You had not yet told Cregan, as you knew he wouldn’t care anyway.

A few days following the letter from the raven, it was Sara’s name day. Cregan had decided to celebrate with a feast, one bigger than your wedding.

You all sat at the high table, your husband and sister in law drinking heavily. Although Cregan was a big man, the amount of ale he consumed that night seemed enough to kill a horse.

“My princess.” A servant rested her hand on your shoulder. You and Cregan both turned to look at her, and she grew nervous, not expecting Cregan to pay any attention or perhaps she would not have asked the princess the request. “Rickon has had a nightmare and wants no comfort of the maids. He is requesting you by name specifically, princess.”

You turn to look at Cregan for his approval. He gives a quick nod, which you hadn’t expected. Perhaps he only obliged since Rickon had requested you by your name, rather than requesting his “mother.”

You walked with the maid to his chambers, opening the door.

“Mummy.” He said through sniffles. You turned to face the maid.

“I thought he requested me by my name.” You said.

“That is your name, princess… to him.” The maid closed the door.

You turn to face Rickon with a gentle sigh. “You know papa doesn’t like that word.”

“Mummy.” He just says again. You walk to his bed, fitting yourself in to lay with him. He cuddles into your chest, and you play with his hair to help him sleep.

“Say it okay.” He says.

“Hm? What do you mean, child?” You ask.

“She say it okay to call you mummy.”

“Who?”

“Mummy did.”

“No, you have to call me my name, sweet boy.”

“Not you, mummy. My other mummy said it okay.”

“You confuse me, Rickon.”

“Mummy says ignore papa.” You chuckle softly.

“Sleep now, my love.” You say, and he slowly falls asleep while you hum him a soft song.

You rise, tucking him in and giving his head a kiss.

You open his door to return to the feast, and Cregan is there waiting.

You gasp, covering your mouth quickly to not wake Rickon.

“Gods, you scared me!” You whisper/yell at him. He says nothing, his eyes in a glossy and drunken haze.

You close the door, nearly standing chest to chest with him.

“I heard you sing to him.” He says softly. “Where did you learn that song?”

“He taught me it.” You say, as you go to step past him when he stops you.

“Cregan?” You say confused, turning to look up at him.

He takes your cheeks in your hands and slams his lips on yours. You freeze for a second in shock, before immediately returning the kiss. He presses you against the door, and you moan into him as you quickly grow wet with Cregan’s sudden change of behavior.

He moves to press gentle kisses on your neck, biting softly here and there. His fingers dig into your hips, grinding himself into you. You moan softly, trying not to cause too much noise against the door.

“Not here.” You moan. He avoids your eyes, taking your hand and pulling you further down the hall to his chambers. It was only your second time in his room. He lifted you into his strong arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing you against the wall.

You both hadn’t even undressed, but you loved the thrill. Your husband finally wanted you after three long grueling months. He pushed your dress up to your waist as you unlaced his breeches.

He took you there against the wall of his chambers, fucking you so sweetly, fucking you in a way that would surely produce an heir.

Your moans filled the halls, and the servants began to spread word that the lord had finally moved on from his first wife.

He carried you to the bed, placing you along the edge as he stood, fucking you with sloppy and drunken thrusts.

You moaned his name, both of you drawing so close to your peak as your hands rested against his stomach. He leaned closed to you as hand moved beside your head to hold his weight, and the other moved under your lower back to lift you slightly off the bed and pull you more into him. The angle sent you over the edge, crying and moaning his name.

Your moans pushed him over, but his next words made you sick.

“Fuck, Alysanne.” He groaned, burying his head in your neck and spilling his seed into you.

You gasped, not even sure you heard him right.

He kissed your neck a few times and then rolled off you, not noticing the look on your face.

You laid there unmoving, still in your dress which was now damp with sweat, and your thighs now sticky with Cregan.

He fell asleep the second his head hit his pillow, still in his clothes.

You choked back a sob, moving your hand to your mouth so he wouldn’t waken. In reality, you could’ve started screaming and he wouldn’t have woke, or even shuffled.

You exited his chambers, trying not to be sick on the way to yours.

“My sister!” Sara drunkenly yelled as she seen you in the hallway. She took notice of your disheveled dress and hair. “Oh my gods, did you and Cregan just…?”

You ignored her, but she noticed the tears on your face. “Wait, sister what is wrong? What happened?”

You slammed the door in her face, throwing yourself into your pillow and screaming.

—

“Mother would be furious if she knew you were sleeping this well past sunrise.”

You groaned, lifting your head from the pillow to find the voice in the room.

“Jacaerys?” You said, when your eyes landed on him.

“I take it the feast for Sara Snow was a success.” He says, making fun of you. Your hair was sticking to your face, wet with a mixture of tears and drool.

“I guess you could say that.” You said, wiping your hair to the side.

“You’re disgusting.” He says.

“Gods, five minutes you’ve been here and you already frustrate me! Get out!” You say, both of you immediately teasing and arguing like you had never left home.

You push him out of your room.

“Don’t touch me, wench!” He whines, smacking your arms.

“Piss off! Go harass the bloody Lord of Winterfell.”

“I’d rather harass the Lady.” You push him out of your doors, turning and pressing your back to slide down the wall.

You hear him knock again and you rise to your feet, angry. “Jace, I said-“

You don’t finish your sentence, since as you open the door it’s Sara.

“I wanna talk about last night.”

“I don’t.” You say, going to close the door on her before she pushes it back open.

“What happened?” She asks, angry. She closes the door behind her and follows you to the bed. You sit on the edge and rest your elbows on your thighs, burying your face in your hands.

“Did my brother hurt you?” She asks, worried.

“No, no.”

She rests on her knees in front of you, placing her hands on your knees. “Tell me what happened.”

You sigh, trying to hold back your tears, but you cannot. “We had sex.”

“Isn’t that good? What went wrong?”

“He called me Alysanne.” You sob out.

“Oh, no.” She says, moving to sit beside you and wrap her arms around you.

“I cannot stay here no longer, Sara. I am being haunted by Alysanne. I find letters she wrote to Cregan, her clothes, her weapons. Rickon thinks I am her and Cregan wishes I was.”

“I am sorry, princess.” She says, sadly. “I thought I knew my brother better than that… Perhaps, if you talk to him about these past few months things can be different. Just give it a try, yes? You have your brother here now. You can leave if things do not work and the marriage can be annulled.”

You did not even wish to think of that possibility. It would be so shameful for both of your houses. You would do everything in your power to make it work.

You cleaned yourself up and went to Cregan’s chambers, knowing he would be hungover.

And you were right.

You entered his room without knocking, finding him in a bath with a warm rag over his eyes. Three times now you’ve been in his chambers.

“You can set it on the table.” He says, not moving the rag.

“What?”

“Oh.” He says, his voice changing in tone. “I thought you were the maid.”

You say nothing, unsure of where to even begin.

“Can whatever you’ve barged into my chambers for wait until I am done.” He asks, only the question is more of a statement.

“No.” You say, angry. You walk over to him and pull the rag off his eyes. He squints at the brightness, then gagging on the air as if he might be sick. “We’re going to talk, Cregan. We’ve been married for months and I don’t think we’ve ever truly had a conversation once. It is all I am asking. You could at least give me that. You’ve given me the cold shoulder for three months, and I’m tired of it. I’ve helped raise your son, I’ve loved you and I’ve cared for you even when you didn’t want it. You owe this to me.”

He sighs, defeated. “You are right in that, my princess. I apologize. We can talk later, alright?”

“No, Cregan. We will talk now.”

“You wouldn’t rather talk when I am of a clear headspace?”

“No. Now.” You say. He sighs again.

“Say your piece.”

The words left your mind the second he said that. You had this conversation in your head many times before, but now it was here and you could not handle the heat of the moment.

He raised his eyebrow at you, as if you were dumb.

“Oh, do not do that. I thought you Starks were supposed to be the most honorable among men. This whole marriage I have been treated with everything but. You are a disrespectful man, Stark. I am truly sorry about Alysanne-“

“Do not speak to me about my wife, ever!” He yells, pointing at you.

“I am your wife!” You cry out. “You chose me, whether you were ready for another marriage or not! I left my home, my family, my dragon to be with you! If I cannot have your love, is it too much to ask for your fucking respect?!”

He goes quiet for a few moments, “You have always had my respect, princess… and I know I have erred in the way I’ve treated you these past moons. But this marriage is just a duty. Nothing more, nothing less. This marriage is not out of love… so do not expect me to love you back.”

You laugh, dryly. “You called me Alysanne last night… Do you remember that? No… I suppose you were too drunk. You never would have touched or cared for me like that sober.”

He says nothing, but his hands grip the side of the tub and his face is contorted with anger. You rise, hiding any sort of emotion on your face.

“The dead don’t need lovers. Only the living.” You said. He threw his rag at the door as you walked out, not even granting him a second glance.

The memories of last night flooded back to him, and he rested his face in his hands, crying at his behavior. He had let down Aly, his son, and you.

He did care about you, he did love you in his own way. He just didn’t know how to show it. He didn’t want to show it. If he had shown it, he only would have betrayed Aly even more.

You went down to the crypt, somewhere you had never gone before. You had no reason originally, no people to mourn.

You stood in front of her plot, staring at the statue of her. She had been a skinny girl, with long dark hair and ‘plain’ features. You thought she was a beauty in her own way. You saw why Cregan loved her.

You cried. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help him.”

Your hand touched her statue, then you stood and left the crypt.

You said goodbye to Rickon, Sara, and then you left with your brother on dragon back, ready to be home with your true family.

———

“You’re a fucking fool, brother.”

“You think I don’t know that? Gods.” Cregan rested his head in his hands. He had sent every raven in Winterfell to Dragonstone, yet not one had responded in the weeks since you’d left.

“We’ll be lucky if the bloody queen doesn’t declare war on us for you scorning her daughter.”

“I am trying here, Sara! I’ve sent my ravens, I’ve sent men to retrieve her. There is nothing more I can do!”

Sara slammed her hands on the table. “Go and get her your bloody self, Cregan. The trip to Dragonstone will give you plenty of time for reflection.”

Sara turned to leave, and Cregan knew it was his only option of getting you back here. He would go and get you and make things right. He had to.

You had your own time for reflection, riding home with Jacaerys made you realize how much you missed being on dragon back.

Your mother of course welcomed you with open arms, but was wracked with guilt that you and Cregan’s union was not working. You paid it no mind however, spending your days patrolling Dragonstone on Silverwing.

Cregan had taken his horse and a few men to retrieve you from Dragonstone. The trip by horse was long, more than several weeks.

The entire time he rode in silence he thought of you. He thought of your last conversation and the final words you had said to him. The dead don’t need lovers. And you were right. Alysanne would not have wished to see him treat you how he had, she would not have wanted Cregan to spend his time sulking or being angry. He only wished he had realized it before he left.

He loved you. If only it hadn’t taken you leaving for him to realize. You were kind, gentle, beautiful. Traits Alysanne didn’t have but it was what seperated you from her. It had been how he was able to find his own kind of love for you, even when he didn’t consciously realize it yet. His own bitterness from losing Aly had made forget his honor.

Cregan arrived about two moons after you had left. He was aching, frustrated, and desperate by the time he reached Dragonstone.

It was dark, pouring rain, and you were playing with your brothers Viserys and Aegon when he arrived.

“Your Grace!” A knight came into the room shouting. Your mother looked up from her book. “Cregan Stark of Winterfell has arrived and requests an immediate audience with you and the princess.”

Your mother looked at you, and you looked like you’d seen a ghost. Your heart sank and your face went pale, but you nodded.

You met him inside the council chambers with your mother and his men. He was soaked, shivering. You could hear your heart beating in your ears, that was how nervous you were.

“Cregan.” You said, walking towards him and pushing him by his arms to the hearth to warm him up. It was another thing he loved about you, your protective nature, so he said it.

“I love you.”

“Cregan…”

“Love her?” You both looked at your mother, whose face was angry. “You love my daughter?”

“Your Grace.” Cregan said, removing his sword and bending his knee. “I’ve come to beg your forgiveness.”

She walked towards you both. “It is not mine you need to beg for… I sent my only daughter to you, and you spurn her for your dead wife?!”

“Mother!”

“You will not interrupt the Queen when she is speaking.” She commands you. “What do you have to say for yourself, Lord Stark?”

He stands. “I have nothing to say, Your Grace. You are right. My behavior was unacceptable. The princess deserved none of it.”

“Why are you here?” Your mother asks him.

“I’ve come to ask the princess to return home.” Your mother scoffs at him.

She looks at you, then back to him. “You are lucky it is not my decision to make.”

She turns and exits, leaving and commanding his men to wait outside the doors so you both could be alone.

You were even more nervous with just the two of you in there. It is silent for a few moments before you speak.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” You ask Cregan.

“It took you leaving for me to realize I love you.” He says, taking your hands in his. You roll your eyes, taking your hands back and stepping away.

“I can’t believe you.” You say, starting to sob.

“I know, I know.” He steps closer to you again, taking you in his arms as you cry into his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“I loved you, Cregan.” You say, crying. “Since I was a girl I loved you. I thought you were different from other men. But, you’re just like the rest.”

Cregan cries into your hair. “I’m so sorry, my princess. I’m so, so sorry.”

You both stand there, holding each other and crying.

“Please come home.” He says. “Let me take you home.”

“Rickon misses his mother, Sara misses her sister… I miss you, you my wife.”

You pull away to look at him, trying to read his normally stoic features. You can see he means it.

“Okay.”

———

You returned to Winterfell on Silverwing, no longer having the strength to remain apart from your dragon.

Cregan had to endure another long and grueling trip back to Winterfell, which you enjoyed knowing he was suffering while you road through the skies.

Rickon had cried tears of joy when you returned, and a week later when Cregan arrived Rickon cried again.

You and Cregan had remained in seperated chambers while you still navigated your marriage, but Cregan made a point to spend every moment of his free time with you.

But you had been keeping a secret from him.

After you returned home to Dragonstone originally, your blood never arrived. The maester determined you were with a babe, which would arrive several moons away in the dead of winter.

Your thick furs and dresses made it easier to hide from Cregan, as you were not ready to tell him.

The babe had complicated things. If you had not been pregnant, you might not have returned to Winterfell when Cregan came for you. But you knew you had a duty, and you believed if Cregan could love you then you could fix your union.

Cregan had indeed put the work in the second he arrived home. He attended to you, conversed with you, ate with you, laughed with you, but gave you the space you needed and gave you the option to be intimate with him when you were ready.

It was strangely like falling in love all over again. You blushed around each other, got nervous and flushed, made each other’s hearts race, shared a first kiss when you were both ready.

Cregan had undoubtedly fallen madly in love with you, and he regretted not taking the time to do it sooner. He couldn’t make up the time he lost being afraid. All he could do now was love you without guilt, love you without fear, love you without shame.

Normally Cregan always knocked on your chamber doors before entering, but for some reason this time he hadn’t. He didn’t know why he didn’t knock, he didn’t know if it happened unconsciously or if he was too busy wrapped up with his thoughts.

Either way, he entered without knocking and by that point the cat was out of the bag.

He said your name, greeting you with a smile, only for it to fall off his face as if it had never been there.

You were in the bath, relaxing in the burning water, but that wasn’t the problem. He’d seen you naked, although it hadn’t been for a few months by this point, but him accidentally invading your privacy wasn’t the problem either.

It was the bump in your belly that was a problem.

Your head turned sharply, covering your chest quickly. “Cregan!”

“Sorry.” He said quickly, turning around to avoid disrespecting you.

“It’s fine.” You said, dropping your arm from your chest. “You just gave me a fright.”

He said nothing for a moment, only continuing to face the wall.

“What is that?” He finally asked. You sighed, stepping out of the tub and into your robe.

You walked up behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to face you now, and his eyes fell down to your other hand resting on the small bump in your stomach.

“Perhaps it’s time we talk.”

“You think?” He spits at you, immediately apologizing after. “I’m sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to be cross with you.”

You said nothing, walking over to the seats by the hearth hoping he would follow.

He did, and he sat next to you, his eyes never leaving your belly.

“Can I?” He asked, gesturing to your stomach. You nodded, untying your robe so that you were bare. You grabbed his hand, bringing it to the small bump.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have accommodated for you, made sure you were comfortable.”

“Truth be told it’s been hard for me to accept I’m truly with a child.” You say, “The reality had not set in until… well until you just now found out... I am sorry, Cregan. I should not have kept it from you.”

He chokes back a sob. “Feels like just yesterday Alysanne had Rickon.”

“He will be overjoyed to know he will have a little brother or sister.” You tell him. He looks at you, his face full of emotion.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks and before you can even finish nodding your head, you’re already leaning in to kiss him.

“I love you. I love you so much, my wife.” He says in between kisses.

His hand did not move once from your stomach the whole night.

[boowritess]

part 2 lol

so apparently it's really fucking hard to get into the SAS. and ontop of that I've been getting tiktoks of people going around an army base asking why they joined. most responses were to pay off student loans, bills, school, (someone said there's was 6 years of prison or school and *mental note for idea*), the recruiter lied or spoilt them, barracks bunny.

141 (poly?) x notsobaddasssoldier!reader

and now i can't stop thinking of soldier!reader. who really half-assed their way through everything - only doing the job for the money and to pay off student loans + they had nothing better to do.

who somehow ends up being adopted by Price (kinda like Gaz i guess ???) all because reader happened to be in the right place at the right time and saved Price's ass while managing to complete a mission the Task Force were doing.

and it's not that you saved his ass or completed the mission that makes Price go *this is mine* - it's the fact that afterwards all you can say is-

"this shit is so not worth paying off my student loans."

"oh fuck i forgot to cancel my subscription. fuckk- waste of fucking money"

- all the while a building is burning in front of you but yeah just not at all concerned about what had just happened. so price just *grabs you by the back of your neck and holds you up, claiming you as part of his task force now.*

(lol you probably can't do that irl but this is fiction sooo suck my ass.)

and laswell's just like no... they are very much still green john. way too green. no.

but it's too late. he's already introducing you to the task force. singing your praises and you're just like

"man he promised to pay off my student loans and give me food." basically how ur recruiter got ya ass.

enough said. you get the whole off the books speech, saving the world by doing things others wouldn't like. but u couldn't give a rats ass - you should but nah...

and like... you know you're the rookie... you're still green... but some of the shit 141 do you just...

"so you just gonna kidnap the wife AND the child...? right... kid, you wanna watch bluey? here..."

"and you do this often...? crazy."

but you don't exactly protest. how could you with how much you get paid. you kinda just side-eye and look away when it's geta a lil crazy. *bombastic side-eye*

and the other 141 guys - oh my days. become just as enormed as price and want to start really trying to amplify your skills. but every time, they start explaining how to do things - the best way to go about a situation or how to fight a certain way.

you pull this face. like your top lip pulls back, your eyebrows scrunch together, and there's a slight frown on your lips as they speak. like you look confused/disgusted. but you don't even realise cause-

"why're you pulling that face?" 141

"that's... that's just my focusing face..."

"oh..." 141 feels bad

then when they do take you in feild you're shaking your head no. like you haven't been around that long. what the fuck? now you're bout to infiltrate an enemy base!?!?!

"can i just wait in the car?"

"no." price

"i'm gonna vomit."

"aim at the enemy." ghost

people think that because you're suddenly in this badass task force that surely they're just using you for your assets.

they all think you're the 141 barracks bunny. and maybe you should be pissed or annoyed or grossed out. but all you can do is sigh and pause from the burger price got you, and let out a long exhale.

"fuck... maybe i can just do onlyfans or be a pornstar... shit maybe it's not too late..."

"military is bascially sex work - selling my body..."

"not that different from what i'm doing now. body being used, check. body sore in the strangest places, check."

your tone so empty, blank and nonchalant, but there's a serious look in your eyes that when you grab your phone out to maybe do a little research on how you could do that, your phone is snatched from your hand by one of the guys and they walk out the room without a second look back.

with an annoyed huff, you go back to eating your burger. but suddenly, you turn to the person who genuinely thought you were a barracks bunny.

"hey you think if i be a barracks bunny i get out of missions and shit?"

"...that's not how it works..." rando.

"fuck."

and maybe you try...

like you go to price's office and the guys are already in there, chatting about something that you should really pay attention too but you can't be assed. instead you unashamedly start to speak...

"if i suck ya'll dicks can i get out the mission?"

"no. you still have to join." gaz says amused

"even if you-" *que long sigh from price* "even if you suck our dicks."

"that's fucked up. i should've done porn."

and with the most hurt and broken-hearted look on your face, you leave the office, closing the door with a dramatic sigh. the guys just stare at the door in... confusion, amusement, and maybe arousal if ya'll dig that

idk man just gimmie more soldier!reader who just really ain't the fucked, there for money, lowkey hungry and doesn't know what the fuck is happening. kinda a pet or little sibling energy that the 141 love.

bonus*

"wait so they aren't sucking our dicks?" *soap says getting slapped in the back of the head by ghost

a/n: brain is rottinnggg. i should be doing so much other shit but... cod just consumes my brain 24/7