Hello! Welcome to my new writing blog -- originally was @sixx-sixx-sixx (She was a side blog, this account is now my main blog so I can properly follow people)
You can call me Ren. I've been on tumblr since forever but I haven't written fanfiction in nearly a decade, so here's to new beginnings.
I will write smut, I'm just not very good at it -- working on improving my writing styles as a whole, so just be patient with me while I'm starting out <3
Any video game fandoms that I write for are written using show lore/youtube lore compilations, but I do my try best to do research on game lore so I can get some more details and to make it as in-character/in-universe as possible.
Here’s a list of fandoms I currently post/write about
i found this when i was cleaning out my notes app and it’s definitely rough, definitely unfinished, don’t think there’s any trigger warnings on this other than probably bad grammar, inaccurate harry potter lore, i use the word fuck and the reader has hazel eyes and no name or y/n
Synopsis: muggle!reader who raises Harry (Jily still dies and the chosen one remains but he’s loved and still raised as a muggle)
She’s a muggle and has a looooong past with Remus from the marauders days to now (lets pretend they met in a coffee shop or a record store or whatever backstory you want to make up because i didn’t plan that) and he’s the one who somehow convinces them to eventually give Harry to her to raise bc she’s always wanted a child or smth heartbreaking like THEY couldn’t have kids but she’d for sure raise his best friend’s baby.
——————
He knocks loud enough to wake her up in the middle of the night, she rushes to the door in her robe and slippers. Whipping the door open, ready to yell at him, she falls flat when she sees the broken look on his face and the baby wrapped up in his arms.
“What happened?” She whispers, quickly pulling her lover inside and shutting the door tight behind her, locking it instinctively.
“James and Lily are dead.” Remus spoke in a low tone, looking over at her. He trusted her with his entire soul, his whole mind body and soul had been devoted to her for so long.
Her heart clenched. She had only met the young couple a handful of times, but she had gotten to know them well. She had hosted dinners in her small flat for the friend group, it was a shame she’d never see the lovesick duo again.
“I’m sorry, honey.” She moved over to his side, guiding him gently to sit down on the couch. “Does this have to do with that thing we’re not supposed to talk about?” She knew about his magic, it wasn’t like he hid it from her. But with the state of the wizarding world, it was better that she didn’t know much.
He’d rarely get to see her again over the next decade, only getting to see her once every couple of months. She’d give Harry an extra kiss on the forehead and slip a candy into his hand to bribe him into behaving and staying put in his room before letting the lycanthrope inside, spending the next few hours wrapped up in each other’s arms, fucking, talking, listening to each other’s breaths, then fucking again. Thankful for his magic, he had cast a silencing spell around the room, trapping her sweet sounds in the small room only for him to hear.
One month before Harry’s 11th birthday, Remus had appeared on her doorstep right after dinner. He looked much older now, though not yet 40. She still looked at him with stars in her eyes, despite the anger blazing behind them. Not directed towards him, of course, but Harry had recently discovered he had “powers” and was making her life much more difficult.
“Thank god you’re here! I’m losing my mind. Is my hair still green?” She had shown Harry pictures of his parents over the years, her favorite being a one of the couple, Remus, Sirius, and herself in the middle, taken a few Christmases before he was born. She introduced them all as his uncles, though had to lie and explain that his uncles lived overseas so they couldn’t visit. It was all to keep his identity hidden, but he was getting older, and had questions.
Now was a good a time as any for him to meet Uncle Moony, she guessed.
“Harry James Potter! Stop floating this instant!” She squealed, her hair was in fact still a pretty shade of green, and Remus thought it matched the flecks in her hazel eyes. He looked up to see Harry floating atop a couch cushion, and hey, he was at least proud of the lad for taking safety precautions. Noticing the new, yet familiarly scarred, face in the room, Harry ungracefully lowered himself to the ground.
“Ahh, I see he’s found the book of mischief spells I must’ve left behind.” Remus had a slightly smug expression on his face as he looked down at his old friend, “We’ll discuss it later, my love.”
“I’m beginning to think you should’ve told him about this a long time ago! You’re both going to give me a heart attack, and I’m not even 30 yet!” She sent a glare towards Remus when he opened his mouth to make the comment that no, she is in fact 31 this year, but he’s smart enough to shut his mouth again.
don’t know if there will be a part 2 because tbh i was in active addiction when i started writing fanfiction
let us not forget that the basis of early gynecological experimentation and justification was that “black women don’t feel pain the way white women do/black women have a higher pain tolerance”
musk is going to die in a Tesla explosion in 6 months after sticking his nose where it doesn't belong and we will never get a conclusive answer on whether it was a CIA car bomb or just a normal Tesla malfunction
LADY BRIDGERTON - Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader (smut)
Summary: Reader has been married to Anthony Bridgerton for too long, it feels, although it has only been a few years. In that short time, not only has he only touched her naked body once, but he comes home most nights smelling of sweat and another woman’s perfume. Lady Whistledown has caught wind of this, and the gossip sends Lady Bridgerton over the edge. Anthony takes the time to give his wife exactly what she’s asking for.
Warnings: smut; badly written smut lol; infidelity; arguments about infidelity; possibly out of character anthony; I’ve only watched season 1 of Bridgerton; breeding kink; unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it but this is a married couple); female reader/use of she/her pronouns; as always, proofread to the best of my ability
“Do you wish to make a fool of me?” Anthony leaned down to whisper in his young wife’s ear, a firm hand grabbing her elbow as he interrupted her conversation with a young man from Russia, or Hungary. He didn’t pay much mind to the boy so much as the woman who bore his last name, fully aware of the way she had been subtly flirting with many men that night. Taking count of the glasses of bubbles she had — she was nursing her fourth flute, Anthony had decided it was enough.
Don’t make a scene.
Lady Bridgerton felt an intense urge to strike her husband across his cheek, how dare he accuse her of making a fool out of him. All evening she had overheard whispers of Anthony’s name from nasty gossipers. The young Bridgertons had been the central characters in the latest edition of Lady Whistledown. Rumor has it that Lord Bridgerton had continued an affair with a certain singer, without bothering to hide it from his young wife. Even worse? Lady Bridgerton knew, as they all knew, and never seemed to let the truth affect how she presented herself to those around her.
“Would you like me to answer that truthfully, my dear husband?” She turned her gaze towards him, her eyes alight with a burning fury towards the unfaithful man she had devoted her life to. She jerked her arm away from his grip and started to lift the glass to her painted lips. Anthony grabbed the dainty piece of glass and shook his head, “I think you’ve had enough. It’s time for you to go home.”
A bitter laugh escaped her mouth before she could stop it, as a few heads turned to observe the titular couple. “If that is your wish, Mr. Bridgerton.” She turned on her heel and started to make her way out to the cold air, cursing herself for leaving her coat in the carriage. She didn’t even bother to wait for her husband to catch up as she informed the valet they would be leaving.
The carriage ride to the estate wasn’t anything special. She would sit and seethe in silence during the ride, her eyes burning a hole through Anthony’s forehead as he sat across from her. The argument began once the couple was behind the safety of their bedroom door, standing in front of each other with defenses up. “We have been married for two years, Anthony! Two years and the only time you have touched me was on our wedding night. Yet every night you come home, to OUR bed, smelling like some whore’s perfume! I am left to listen to the ton gossip about MY empty bed!” She nearly hissed the words to punctuate her accusations. Anthony had never seen such an outburst from the young woman, she had never spoken to him like that before. She was standing before him, the drinks she had at the ball fueling her anger and simultaneously allowing the anger to sober her head.
“I know that I wasn’t who you wanted to marry, I understand that this was just a beneficial arrangement for you. But I expect that as the woman who now holds your family name, who will one day bear your children, that you could at the very least respect me!” She was angry that he had just stood there and watched her yell, but at the same time, she wouldn’t let him get a word in.
“You cannot expect me to be a dutiful wife and lady if you refuse to grant me at least the tiniest shred of dignity. You, sir, make a fool of yourself, I am merely seeking that same kind of attention you seek from Siena.” Her voice dripped with sickly sweet venom as she spat the woman’s name.
Anthony allowed the woman to speak her mind on his infidelity, finally admitting to himself that he had been unfair to her. He frequently came into their room in the middle of the night when he expected the woman to be asleep. In the beginning of the marriage, he had at least tried to hide the evidence, changing his clothes before he climbed under the blankets next to her. Now, she was accustomed to him laying down beside her without even taking off the shirt that was stained with Siena’s stage makeup and that reeked of her pungent perfume.
“I do not understand, Anthony. I can come to terms with a loveless marriage, but I am so exhausted by knowing you’re giving her that kind of attention, and I have remained loyal to you despite the obvious signs of your affair-“ her rant was abruptly cut short when Anthony floated over to her, his hands gripping her cheeks with fervor as he crashed his lips to hers. Taking only a moment to stand in shock, she pressed her lips back against his, her hand reaching to grip onto the front of his overcoat. Desperately reaching for more, trying to edge him closer to their bed but ultimately allowing him full control over her mind, body and soul. She let out a disappointed whimper when his lips parted from hers, his face inches from her own.
“What is it that you want from me, woman? You wish for me to touch you the way I touch her? Or do you believe my hands to be too stained?” She hated how close his lips were, desperately trying to reach forward as he spoke his mind. She didn’t really care how improper the words sounded as they came from his mouth, because she DID want him to touch her- not just touch, she wanted him to fuck her the way he fucked his mistress.
She took a moment to find her words, not expecting her confrontation to lead to this moment. “Anthony, I am your wife. All I want is for you to- to fuck me the way a husband fucks his wife.”
Understanding that he had a year’s worth of missing passion to make up for, and seeing that deep down he had no other choice than to obey the woman before him, he easily obliged. In this moment, Siena didn’t exist to him. He was purely focused on making sure his duties as a husband were thoroughly taken care of. Tonight, he would go to sleep smelling of his wife’s soft scent, making sure to cover the woman in marks of his affection.
Little time was wasted in getting their clothes off. A mess of hands clashing together to try and undo buttons and layers and loops, the couple grasping at each other as though they were desperate for the other as a life source.
Anthony paused for a moment to admire his lady’s body in the soft candlelight, letting his hands first run over the delectable curve of her hips, trailing up her sides before settling on her supple breasts.
“I’m sorry that I have spent so long torturing you, making you only imagine my hands touching you like this. I promise, my lady, I will do a much better job at attending to whatever it is you wish from me.” Anthony promised as his eyes stayed locked with hers. Her pupils were blown wide, and he realized he didn’t even know what color her irises were meant to be. He told himself he’d be a better husband to her after this, wanting to ensure her place in society as his wife. He’d fuck her full of his seed tonight, and every night after that, to make sure that Lady Whistledown could never accuse him of neglecting his wife’s desires again.
“Please, my lord, please--“ Lady Bridgerton sounded deliciously desperate, and it excited Anthony in a way that he had never experienced in his years-long affairs with Siena. It spurred him to plunge his cock deeper into his wife, his hand pushing her thigh down to her shoulder as he positioned her to angle himself deeper. She would probably think about the pressure against her cervix for the rest of her life, praying to God that she’d be able to experience this side of her husband for the rest of their lives together.
“What is it that you want, Lady Bridgerton? Tell me with words, my love, I want to hear you say it.” In this close position he could make sure she could look into his eyes to see he was genuine in this moment.
She was surprised at his stamina and determination tonight, focused more on her body than chasing his own release. A complete contrast to their wedding night, she felt like he treated the consummation as a chore. This was a much, much better experience. She had lost count of the times he had made her cum tonight, and the ways he had coaxed her orgasms from her.
“Anthony- Christ! Please don’t stop, want you to fuck me full til i’m round with your child-“ her voice was ragged and on the verge of giving out after not holding back a single sound. She didn’t care how pathetic she sounded begging for what seemed like the bare minimum from her husband.
Anthony leaned down to capture her lips in a messy kiss, reaching down to grab her hand that was tangled in the sheets beneath her. He caught any noises that escaped her, the sounds muffled against his own mouth, moving to hold her hand above her head. She clutched at his hand and whimpered his name as his hips stilled after a few sloppy thrusts, thick ropes coating her walls.
Anthony stayed put for a moment so as to not waste a drop, pulling his lips from hers before ghosting them over the hammering pulse in her neck. He gently maneuvered her pliable body into a resting position, slowly pulling himself from her and getting up from the bed.
After he had gently cleaned up the mess he had made of the woman, Anthony peppered soft kisses over her stomach as he made his way up to lay down next to her. She instantly curled into his chest and closed her eyes, taking her time in coming down from the cloud she was on. She could feel his fingers gently combing through her mussed hair, the sensation slowly bringing her back to earth.
“Are you alright, Lady Bridgerton?” Anthony spoke softly to not spook her, his arms locked safely around her keeping her pressed to his body. Her lips quirked into a smile and he took notice of the way her cheek dimpled, his thumb moving to stroke over the small impression.
“I am absolutely content, Lord Bridgerton.” She opened her eyes to look up at her husband’s face. Anthony smiled as he kissed her again, a kiss so tender that nearly brought tears to her eyes.
“I may not be the perfect husband, but I vow to do better by you. I will end things with Siena and tend to the parts of you that I’ve been neglectful of.” Anthony made a promise to her after he had pulled away. His wife reached up to grab his hand in hers, moving it to press a gentle kiss to his knuckles before she spoke.
“You can use all of the sweet words that you want, you’ll still have to prove yourself with actions.” She squeezed his hand gently, “But I think this has been good start.”
:-"Soft things people in love do that makes me want to fall in love" prompts-:
(Tag me if you guys write these!!!! yeeeeee)
By @me-writes-prompts
Letting them sit in their seat during a train/bus transaction
Making food for each other as surprise
Picnic dates^^
"We could just stay like this, cuddling all day, if you want."
Random kisses on lips/hands/neck >\\\<
Giving them a head massage while they listen to the other one talk about their day
Late-night star gazing when they can't sleep
^^ "The stars are bright tonight, aren't they?" "Not as bright as you, love." and they pull them into a kiss because they start to laugh at the cheesiness.
Leaning their heads on each other's
"I know you're struggling right now, and it's okay, okay? We'll get through this."
"I left you a note, did you read it?" "Yeah, I left you one back to tell you I read it!" <3333
"I can't believe you remember the day we first had our kiss!" "It's an important day that needs to be remembered forever :)"
"Is it too early to say I love you? Because I do. I love you so much." "Aww, I love you too. So much."
Making the other one DIY bracelets/rings/etc with their names.
^^"This is lovely! But you spelled your name wrong, darling." "Oh...heh, guess I got carried away huh?"
Board game nights where their competitive sides come out
"I hope you know that I'll never leave your side, even though you ate half of my pancakes earlier." "Hmm, I won't either, even though you take my clothes and never return them."
hiiii if you’re still looking for remus centered requests, i rly liked your best friend steve giving reader a hickey and couldn’t help but think of Remus too! like him helping a shy reader not feel insecure about being the ‘inexperienced’ one of their friend group… by giving her some experience 👀💞? love ya lots!
love u thank u for requesting<3
—Remus gives you your first kiss, and then a little more than that. You know, between friends. fem, 1.2k
“Will anyone kiss me tonight, or shall I go unkissed, like some leper?”
You laugh at Sirius’ drama. “It’s not so terrible,” you say, coming up the hallway behind him and James, your face bitten by the cold.
“I know, my lovely little blueberry muffin,” Sirius croons, leaning back and prodding at your cheeks, the smell of cider stuck to him like a cloud, “how you remain unkissed is a mystery to me. Shall we fix that now?”
Sirius is your friend, he doesn’t poke fun, but you flush nervously at his question. James grabs Sirius by the shoulders and yanks him away from you toward the kitchen, “Stop teasing!”
“I’m not teasing! I would love to kiss you, sweetheart, just as soon as I can figure out which one of you is the real one,” Sirius says.
Remus laughs and closes the front door, the last one in. He wraps his hand around your shoulders. “He’d be so lucky,” he says loudly, sending a sulking, pouting Sirius in the opposite direction, James on his tail in giggles promising to feed him some unbuttered toast if he doesn’t chill out.
Remus’ arm falls behind your back. “Why does he act like that? Four drinks and he’s in love with everyone. He gets so urgent.”
You confess slowly, “I can’t say I blame him. Sometimes… I wish someone would kiss me quite urgently, and I don’t even need to get drunk.”
“You do?”
“Just because I’ve never had one doesn’t mean I don’t want one,” you say, “it’s really weird being the only one who doesn’t– who isn’t dating anyone.” You fluster at your confession, worried it’s too much to share, even while his thumb rubs affectionately into your shoulder.
“I’m not dating anyone,” Remus says.
“No, but, going for hookups and stuff–”
You falter as he laughs. “You want one night stands?”
“No,” you say honestly, “but still. You’ve all done that stuff and I’m like, a twenty something loser.”
“You listen to Sirius too much. You have an entire life to find someone to kiss you.”
“I sort of want it now, though,” you say meekly.
Remus laughs again, his arm wrapping tightly behind your back. You’ve both had a drink too, not tipsy like Sirius but the buzz of it perhaps the cause of your loosened tongue, and his easy touching, his teasing. He smiles down at you kindly, “You want a kiss, is that it?” he asks, “Sirius has upset you and a kiss will make it better?”
You find you love the feeling of his chest pressed to yours, “I don’t know. It would be nice to have one just so he can stop talking about it.”
He pulls you right into him and angles his face against yours like he’s going to kiss you, his laughing a soft warmth on the tip of your nose. “You want it right now?” he asks, his hand rubbing sweetly into your back. Layers of fabric feel useless; it’s like he’s caressing naked skin.
“You can’t kiss me,” you say.
“Why not?”
“We’re friends.”
“What’s a good kiss between friends?” He’s following your eyes, he knows all your tones, Remus wouldn’t play with you like this if he thought it wasn’t what you wanted.
“I won’t know how to do it,” you warn in a whisper, you’re reluctance clearly fading.
“Well, you’re very pretty, so any bad kissing cancels out.”
You bend into him as his arm pulls you up, your noses nearly touching, closing your eyes as he leans in.
“You sure?” he asks.
“Mm,” you hum, though he doesn’t kiss you until you nod.
Your noses press together most of all, the strongest sensation, but then there’s heat as his lips part so slightly and press into yours. He kisses upward and you have the sense to keep pressing down, letting his soft kisses move you with him, like an ebbing wave. You take an instinctive step back and he pauses, until you attempt to kiss him again and prompt him into movement —he takes the lead. His hands grasp at your back like you’re water slipping through his fingers, letting a sound of pleasure filter from his lips into yours.
It’s so peculiar. It’s like fireworks, like all the books and movies say, but it’s more. It’s so warm, and his lips are soft even as his kissing turns rougher, as he tilts his head to the side and his lips come apart against yours. Your hand climbs hesitantly against his side, then up, then stuck at the place just above his ribs.
“Touch me,” he says gently, breaking the kiss as your breath comes fast, “wrap your arm around me, it’s alright.”
“Am I hopeless?” you ask, placing your arm behind his shoulder and tipping back to see his face.
He shakes his head, frowning, why is he frowning? “Hopeless?” he repeats. His hand comes up to your face, and that’s almost as bad as the kiss, the heat of his palm on your face and his thumb stroking over the slope of your cheek. He uses that movement to turn your head, and when he ducks in for another kiss, he murmurs, “No, I wouldn’t say hopeless,” the end of it lost on your lips.
This kiss is rougher again. Your heart beats so loudly you can hear the thump of it in your ears as your eyes close and you attempt to fit a hundred wanted kisses into one. He just squeezes you close and returns your enthusiasm, until you can’t breathe, forced to hang your head over his shoulder as you pant for air.
Remus kisses your neck. It’s a shock: you squirm at the sensation but let your head fall to the side as he does it again, not nearly as insistent as his lips had been on yours but something unsaid in the trail of his nose as it runs back up your neck and he kisses the skin below your ear. He slows, and slows, until he’s pulling away to stare at you.
You lift yourself up, nonplussed. “I didn’t know it felt like that.”
Remus shifts his hand from the side of your neck to the front, wiping at the marks of his kissing with his thumb where it wets your skin. “It doesn’t always.” He smiles at you with just a hint of smugness in his eyes. “I don’t suppose you want to know what a love bite feels like?”
“Oi!” James calls from the kitchen. “What are you two doing?”
You pull apart slowly from one another. You think he might’ve forgotten where you were, as did you.
James catches the fall of Remus’ hand where it had been on your cheek and squints suspiciously. “What are you guys doing? I made toast.”
You can’t look at him. Remus saves the day. “We’re looking for her earring.”
“You won’t find it with the lights off.” He glares again with suspicion before turning back to the kitchen. “I didn’t even know she wore earrings,” he mutters.
Remus gives you a sideways look. “Maybe I can show you what it feels like after?” he suggests, voice measured.
“Between friends?” you ask.
“No.” He puts his hand to the small of your back and gives you a gentle nudge down the hallway. “Not between friends.”
