tenderfxck

[tenderfxck]

rest for the weary

(neuvillette x fem!reader) [sfw]

༻❁༺ content: fem!reader (reader is referred to as 'girl'), no established relationship

༻❁༺ word count: ~1.9k

༻❁༺ tags: sickfic? sort of?, mild hurt/comfort, gentle and tender Neuvillette, being overworked, fainting, neuvillette is sexy in a paramedic kind of way, crimes against gloves, almost-crimes against pastries, "you will be taken care of So Help Me" neuvillette, very self indulgent, can you tell i'm a college student

༻❁༺ author’s note: blame my mutuals for putting talk about neuvillette being gentlemanly and kind on my twitter feed. this is their fault and also the four glasses of sangria i drank before i wrote this

Neuvillette would like to believe he understands human behavior quite well by now. What he does not understand is their tendency to be self-sacrificial to the point of exhaustion. When your stress reaches a fever pitch, he steps in.

You don’t remember if it was the fatigue or the hunger that you noticed first. Both have been on the fringes of your consciousness since you left your bed early this morning. Right now, they’re kept at bay only by a lingering headache that worsens as you step out into the clear day.

The beautiful azure of the morning sky above. The flocks of pigeons that dapple the steps of the Palais Mermonia like sunlight through leaves. The hum of the Court of Fontaine as coffee sales begin for the morning. All are lost on you as you forge ahead, feet barely clearing the cobblestone below them.

The papers on your desk, stacked high and demanding attention, are all that your bleary eyes register at the moment. Anything else is secondary.

As much as your conscience would contend it, your current predicament isn’t entirely your fault. Sure, you had procrastinated a bit when the pile of records was first assigned to you, and maybe hadn’t chipped away at it the way you could’ve if you planned ahead. 

For a gestionnaire, though, it’s also just that time of year when the clouds pour rain daily and the opera house sees a never-ending rotation of cases.

So if that means some sacrifices on your side are required, you’re willing to make them for the good of the Court. You’re certainly not the only one, either. The circles under the Chief Justice’s eyes always grow darker during the rainy season; you hope he’s taking better care of himself than you are.

Once you’ve gotten rid of this batch of paperwork, you’ll be free to rest for a while, you tell yourself. You can take a break. Maybe you could walk to that cafe down the street with the nice cashier and get yourself breakfast, if the rain isn't too bad by midmorning.

Your knees waver under you as you carry the precarious stack of records to the threshold of your office. On second thought, maybe you should ask if they offer delivery.

The low murmur of a familiar voice, a pleasant bass melody, reaches you as you step out into the plush carpet of the hallway. It floats through your dizzy head like syrup.

Good. You won’t have to walk far to give these to Neuvillette, then. You’re not sure your feet would carry you all the way to his office anyway, and you’d rather not field any uncomfortable questions about your health from such an esteemed man. 

Assuming what you hope is a pleasant expression, you approach the Iudex and Sedene as he bends at the waist to inspect a bump on her antler. 

There’s a very becoming look of concern on his face, you notice. It must be nice to be the focus of such care.

The unfazed voice of a Melusine comes from somewhere below you: “I promise it’s just a mosquito bite, Monsieur. I must’ve stood around the docks for too long this morning.” 

“Even so... I would administer some anti-inflammatory soon, Sedene. Please don’t neglect your health,” he chides as he pats her head affectionately.

Neuvillette rises again to his full height, catching your eye as you draw near to him.

A fetching smile upturns the corners of his mouth. He greets you with a stately nod, holding out his right hand for your stack of records. Your gaze flits to his other hand, currently engaged by an apple turnover.

Ah. A gift from a Melusine, no doubt. You hope he enjoys it, even if a part of your brain wants you to snatch it for yourself.

If Neuvillette catches the way your eyes linger on his breakfast, he doesn’t mention it. What he does is quirk his head to the left in a silent question as he continues to stand with his hand outstretched.

Oh, archons. How long have you been standing in front of him with a blank look on your face? Too long to be appropriate, certainly.

Clearing your throat and forcing a smile, you take a step forward to hand off your pile of papers to him. Only, instead of making contact with the floor of the hallway, your shoe falls into thin air as your other knee buckles and your back falls towards the carpet.

As your consciousness slips, you feel a cool hand snake around your waist.

Your head goes limp, bouncing a bit with the impact until the pastry drops to the carpet and Neuvillette’s other gloved hand comes to cradle the back of your neck.

He’s caught you. He wishes you were awake to instruct him what to do next.

He lowers you to the ground softly, brow creased with worry. Sedene stands next to him with a similar expression, holding the turnover she saved as it fell. 

“Sedene. Bring me a pillow from the sofa in my office, please. Quickly.”

The Melusine salutes and she darts off. His eyes never leave your face as he kneels, large frame bent over you protectively.

Releasing your waist, he brings a hand up to his teeth and tugs off the glove in a smooth motion before resting his bare fingers against your forehead. A curse in a tongue unknown to all but him breaks the quiet air and his brows knit together. Humans and their damned self-sacrificial nature.

Sedene returns holding a cushion. He eases it under your head with care, ensuring your neck is supported before he retracts the hand underneath.

There in the Palais hallway, the Iudex of Fontaine strips himself of his judge’s coat, uncaring of decorum at the moment. Gentle hands graze your bare skin as he wraps the garment around your shoulders. Were you conscious, you would feel the softness of the silk lining against your cheek and the scent of the ocean it carries with it.

He knows from his extensive observations of human behavior that you’ve probably only collapsed from fatigue, not sickness. And yet… and yet he cannot keep himself from stroking your forehead, cool fingertips resting there as he meditates.

Another moment passes before he makes up his mind. Your body rises from the carpeted hallway floor into strong arms, seldom-seen muscles flexing under his white undershirt. 

The change in altitude brings you halfway out of your daze. Through hazy vision, you catch the sight of pale skin moving above you. His slit eyes meet yours and you don't manage more than a small sound of confusion before you’re pulled back under by sleep.

With a brief nod to Sedene, Neuvillette carries you to his office in a few quick strides. The door slides shut behind him.

Your hands unconsciously tug on his lapels and you curl your body closer to the warmth of his chest, making his ears burn.

Every time he thinks he understands your species, something like this happens. 

He had certainly noticed your energy waning over the last few days, but he worried about the propriety of mentioning such a thing to you. Would you resent him for asking about something so personal? Should he send someone closer to you to step in before you hurt yourself?

In the end, he had settled for bringing you breakfast from a nearby cafe. He glances at the turnover, now sitting innocently on his coffee table courtesy of Sedene. It taunts him.

The silence in his office is deafening as Neuvillette lays you carefully on the sofa next to his desk. He runs through the list of human vitals in his head.

You’re breathing quite deeply. Your pulse is healthy and strong as his fingers press against the side of your throat. The color in your face is returning to its normal shade. Surely all you lack is a good meal, which he can certainly provide, and some rest. 

Then why do his hands shake as he pours tea into a cup on the table before you?

Why can he not keep his eyes from you as you sleep, chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm? 

Why does he find it impossible to return to the paperwork that calls his name just a few feet away?

A clap of thunder shakes the building.

He doesn’t realize how long his eyes have been trained on yours until you’re staring back at him through lowered lids, awakened by the noise.

It takes about a half second for you to remember the circumstances of a few minutes prior and gasp, sitting up with a speed that makes Neuvillette reach towards you in concern. His coat falls from where it was draped across you and you stare at it, unblinking. 

Your gaze flits to Neuvillette, bare to the wrist. He watches silently as you register the sofa you’re laid upon and the lavish office around you.

The Chief Justice makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat when you rush to stand up, face burning. Your head spins - whether from fatigue or embarrassment, you’re not sure. A million apologies threaten to spill from your mouth at once.

With your head bowed and your feet unsteady below you, you don’t see the hand rising to your face until a cool sensation spreads over your flushed forehead. The surprise of it shuts you up immediately. When you do dare to raise your eyes, you hardly trust what you see in front of you.

There is no anger in the face of the Iudex, in the downturned curve of his mouth or the crease of his brow. Only tender concern presents itself as he addresses you.

“You appear to be feverish. Please, sit back down. I won’t have you fainting again if I can help it.” He removes his hand from your skin, leaving behind a burning sensation that you can't attribute to a fever.

“Mon- Monsieur?”

He tuts, raising the cup of tea to your hand and folding it into your grasp. “Drink, please,” he murmurs, face etched with care. 

You blink a few times, sipping the drink as if compelled by magic. It's sweeter than you’re expecting.

“Good girl.” 

You nearly choke on it.

If possible, Neuvillette looks even more distressed by your sudden coughing fit. “You’re far redder than when you awoke. The fever reducer in this blend should help with that, but in the meantime, please take some of this…”

The minutes pass quietly. Periodically, Neuvillette instructs you in a gentle tone to drink your tea or eat a bit of pastry. He absolutely forbids you to stand after the second time you attempt to excuse yourself.

When he's been assured that you're comfortable, he speaks again.

“May I ask why you believe those papers you were attempting to bring me were worth working yourself to exhaustion over?” 

His words are authoritative, but his voice carries such softness that you can’t help but be honest with him.

“I’m so very sorry, Monsieur. It won’t happen again. I’ve just had a lot on my plate this week.”

Neuvillette's violet eyes are melancholy as they meet yours. “Of course. It’s a busy time of year for us all,” he says, shifting his gaze to the steady rain outside. “I do hope you know, however, that I would far rather your work be late than your health to fail on my account.”

You duck your head. “...I understand, Monsieur.”

The man’s stately expression fades into something unreadable at that.

“...Please, call me Neuvillette.”

You were unaware that his voice, so commanding in the courtroom, could sound so tender directed at you.

Your gaze darts up from the floor. The Iudex is not meeting your eyes. His are fixed instead on the light drizzle pattering the windowpane. A faint swathe of color decorates his lofty cheekbones.

As you smile and nod your head, pronouncing his name with a few words of thanks, the morning sun streams into the room behind you.

It’s getting to be quite the lovely day outside.

[tenderfxck]

just stumbled on your bottom haitham fic & loved it so much ahhh :') your writing's lovely! would you consider writing more bottom haitham? idk if you're alright with bondage, but I love the idea of tying him down and making him take it until he's a brainless mess... no touching allowed, he just has to lie there and be a good boy — should be simple enough for him, right? and yet he'd be such a brat about it <3

ty ; ; writing bottom haitham is my fav past time, and since im officially not in time out from tumblr anymore i can actually do just that.

haitham is no pushover. those muscles are there for a reason, no matter how much he stresses that he's just a "feeble scholar". he has a nasty habit of flipping the dynamic with those powerful arms, outplaying any scheme you may have dreamed up to trap him with the brute strength he happens to boast over you.

you're not sure if it's a small miracle or the folly of his certainty that he can still command you that ended with his hands tied fast to the bed frame. but you'll take these blessings when they're offered to you. besides, that self-assured smirk is taunting you to finally drop all pretenses and show him just exactly who is in charge here.

it started rough, all attempts to order him being met with snark, sharp replies, or just downright refusal. fighting every step of the way, al haitham didn't feel it pertinent to go along quietly.

not until his mouth was full of you, sitting on his face, silencing all of that back-talk you were staring to grow sick of.

he surprisingly still had a good amount of fight left in him afterwards, tugging harshly at his restraints. he had warned that you had better let him go, albeit in such a shaky, fucked-out voice escaping his messed lips.

it seems that shoving two fingers into him really did the trick though.

oh, he was so cute when you finally hit somewhere so sweet. how he arched and moaned so pretty for you as his brain finally shut off, floating off into the pillowy softness of subspace.

al haitham turned into such a good boy then, whimpering at each bit of praise you lavished upon his as he sunk further onto your length, fucking himself so eagerly upon you.

maybe, maybe if he begs good enough, pleads till there's tears escaping the confines of those pretty lashes will you finally remove the ropes from his aching hands.

(but don't tell him that it'll only be so you can hold his wrists as you fuck into him from behind, until he's sobbing and cumming hands free ;9)

[tenderfxck]

hi!! I saw that requests were open and I wanted to request something!! Al haitham x fem!reader somno? Haitham comes back from work at a late hour and ur already asleep. He’s horny and your right there, sleeping on your bed, so what does he do next?? (omg I worded this so badly😭)

somno ahead!! be warned!!

he doesn't know what made him feel that ache coming on in the first place, but he knows he was home. and horny.

and there you were. his pretty little girlfriend dozing away on your shared bed.

it was a long day at the akademiya. filing documents. refiling documents when the intern got it wrong the first time. listening to stuffy geezers rant on all while he was stuck taking notes.

so coming home to you splayed out in such a provocative position did funny things to his normally even-tempered brain.

one leg was drawn up and hooked on a pillow you had been cuddling up to, propping your ass up at the perfect angle for al haitham to see the outline of that pretty pussy against those thin little panties you had worn to bed.

it looked quite inviting, he dare say.

he was already half-hard in his pants when his weight dipped on the other side of the bed, shifting closer and closer to your sleeping form. his chest pressed against your back, nose tucked into the crook of your neck as al haitham inhaled the sweet scent of your shampoo as he pulled himself from the tight confine of his pants.

a deft hand quickly pulled your panties aside, a single finger finding its way between your folds. al haitham grunted to himself, remembering all at once that tightness that laid between those pretty thighs. his cock ached thinking of the sweet bliss your little cunt brings to him, slowly working you open with his fingers so he can chase that high only you can bring him once again.

you may be the one who's asleep, but he swears he's the one dreaming. especially with the way you grind back on his fingers even as you continue to doze, only whimpering slighting and cuddling back up to that pillow when he removes them and instead lines up his aching length.

your eyes only flutter open when he thrusts in for the first time, the firm stretch of his cock ripping a moan from your trembling lips as the fuzziness of sleep slowly fades away, instead giving way to pure lust clouding your awakening senses.

"quiet now, angel." al haitham huffs, continuing to chase his pleasure as he kisses a line up the column of your throat.

"just shut your eyes and go back to sleep. i'll take care of you~"

[tenderfxck]

itto would kiss you better, wherever you needed.

long day at work? he’ll kiss you forehead while pulling you into a close hug, rubbing at your stiff shoulders until you melt into his arms.

terrible migraine? he’ll shut the blinds and wrap you in a blanket, quietly pecking at your temple till your breathing steadies.

feeling needy? itto will kiss every inch from your neck, down your stomach, to your twitching sex before devouring you whole, messy tongue working you open until you’re squirming just for him~<3

[tenderfxck]

If you had to pick ONE kink that truly defines you as a person what would you choose?

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AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

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today i feel achey and awful for no reason so i’m really channeling him here

baizhu tonight

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baizhu tonight

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happy birthday to my beloved. my husband. my fucking cinnamon apple

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Hyperfixate on some Freak Shit.

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i’m sure at some some point (probably after too many nights just pondering the thought of you) al haitham finally settles on the fact that you simply interest him. or that your talents in your respective field are exceptional and something to admire.

and then the entitlement starts.

well, he’s is the grand scribe isn’t he? with his position, intellect, and good looks he could have his pick of the lot. and it just so happens he’s picked you.

he’ll watch you from day to day, still bugging you and trying not to let those playful, yet sharp words you throw right back at him irk him so much. he’s certain you’ll come around. you probably like him just as much.

yes… you’re probably just playing hard to get.

so that’s why it hits al haitham like a ton of bricks when you reject him.

it all culminates when he finally plucks up the courage to let you know that he, even with his discerning eye, has chosen you for the great privilege of being his lover.

and then you do the last thing he thinks you would.

you laugh.

it’s not mean one, per say. more a laugh of disbelief. disbelief that he thinks anything he’s done has merited your admiration.

and THEN he��s just so vehemently jealous. if not him, then who? piercing gazes at whoever you’ve chosen to wrap your arms around turn murderous in intent as you pretty hands tangle with theirs.

and not with his.

his pride has been wounded, but this archon-forsaken infatuation still remains. and he stays like that until he realizes this is not how love begins, it’s how desire festers.

[tenderfxck]

do you like call of duty?

i don't play the games, but i am a big fan of the art i keep seeing of all these big-tittied cod men on twitter tho

if your asking whether i'll write it, probably not :/ i don't know enough about it to make something suitable i don't think

[tenderfxck]

five shots of 30 proof alcohol does next to nothing so well see what a sixth does

i can't tell if i'm still in the time-out corner, so i'm gonna post some things tonight in hopes i have been freed

[tenderfxck]

hi, hello, it's me. i just came back from the shadow realm to tell you that your bad influence went well!!! i got nahida and kuki :D now I'm ready to lose my mind while waiting for baizhu and kaveh's banner

i'm so happy for you!!! and here, i'll scooch over to make room in the "waiting for 2nd phase banner" support group

[tenderfxck]

tumblr may have put me in the time out corner. everyone please locate your flotation devices, support has been contacted and now we wait

[tenderfxck]

drooling sobbing CREAMING at your Zhongli smut post sjadbaidna 😭<333 if it's okay with you would you be willing to write Dom Alhaitham smut with afab reader?I know this man gets off of his pretty girl sweet moans everytime he handles her cunny so roughly but he never forgets to praise her.IT WOULD BE A SCENARIO LIKE he's railing you like it's the last time he'll ever get to taste that oh so sweet pleasure only the reader could provide while simultaneously praising her "Doing so good f'me" "You like that, pretty?" And eventually he'll have to cover her sweet lips because oh no!!What if his annoying roommate suddenly comes home?:((( He wouldn't want to get caught during the act,even if the thought of showing you off is screaming at the back os his head he knows the sweet cunny he's fucking is only his to see (although Kaveh would've known not to come home that night)

i had to let this man have his moment eventually😩 but im going back to bullying him right after this

notes: dom!al haitham, SUPER possesive!al haitham, desperate!al haitham, afab!reader, no pronouns used, praise, themes of voyeurism

al haitham was painfully aware of how kaveh and you are best friends. seeing you waltz your way in and out of his house at all hours of the day to fetch kaveh or bring him home after a night of drinking. coming and going almost every day, like a little songbird flitting to and fro.

but that little songbird never seemed to want to perch for too long.

why won't you stay longer? why won't you look his way instead?

the worst is when you and kaveh just sit in the living room, chatting away. noisy and giggling as you gossip about archon knows what with no concern paid to al haitham reading quietly in the corner. (except he isn't. it was just a front so he could sneak glances your way as your absorbed in conversation.)

he could typically temper down these feeling (though it was growing harder day by day) until it all came to a crescendo one evening.

you had appeared at their place again, his little songbird pecking about curiously in search for it's friend, unaware of the stoic-faced tomcat that had been eyeing his prey since it crossed the threshold.

"kaveh's out on a project now. he won't be back for a bit." stay with me instead, he didn't add.

"oh, i'll just wait here, then."

so, his songbird had finally landed.

. . .

"haitham, h-haitham!"

yes, that's it. just his name spilling from those lips he's dreamed about.

"fuck, ahh! s-so big. . ."you can barely piece the words together between each moan punched from your lungs as he fucks you deeper into his mattress. "haitham, hai-ggh! please, m-more!"

"anything you wish, love."

finally. finally he had you all to himself, your soft, exposed skin pressed flush between him and his sheets below. seeing you in his room, surrounded by his things solidified his conviction that you belonged here, with him.

"that's it. fuck, you're so tight." he grunts, snapping his hips back into you, arched so pretty for him. "so good for me. feels so good inside."

your cunt is so warm and wet, a perfect snug fit around his cock. almost like you were made for him. his restraint was already wavering so soon, barely holding it together as he fucks you from behind, hands almost bruising the fullness of your hips as he seemed to hold on for dear life.

archons, what about you makes him fall apart so easily? he was always in control. of his life, his emotions, all until you made your pretty little self known to him.

"let me hear you, be good and let me hear." he breathes, biting down on the sweet column of your exposed neck

a small chorus of your moans remain muffled by one of his pillows you had buried your face in, whimpering as you finally removed it to mention your fears of kaveh hearing.

kaveh? you still have the mental faculties to worry about that bastard?

suddenly, a toned bicep rounds your neck, pulling you up and off the sheets, instead now held so tightly against al haitham's heaving chest. a large coarse hand covers your mouth, silencing the moan startled from you when he presses all the way back in to your twitching pussy, so deep and rough at this new angle.

"no, he doesn't-fuck!" he curses at the sudden clench of your cunt, shoving the hand not busy silencing all those cute whimpers down to your clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. "he doesn't get to hear. . ." he redoubles his efforts, thrusting his cock up into that spot that makes your thighs tremble and makes you squeal under his muffling hand, cunt throbbing and juices spilling as you cum hard on his cock.

cause even if the little songbird isn't quite his, he'll be sure that you only sing for him.