Wriothesley X Reader - Tumblr Posts

wriothesley meeting your strict dad + nervous reader!!

pairings. wriothesley x readder

genre. angst with comfort + fluff

notes. hehehe my first wriothesley brainrot :)) I'll just experiment on what will be my writing style so I'm kinda rusty xD

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Wriothesley is a brave man. After all, he has faced countless convicts in the fortress of meropede. He doesn’t feel any nervousness whenever meeting them. Even convicts that are higher than him respect him in high regard. But some convicts are also not a fan of his ways of controlling the fortress to which they just tolerate it.

But in this matter, there is a case where he gets a bit of a challenge. Whenever he wants something, he gets it by his own ways. But now, he's trying to think of ways to make dinner good with your father, allowing his daughter, you, to be in a legal relationship with wriothesley.

“Relax, I got this. I know how to talk things through with your father, he'll accept me and trust me.” wriothesley assured you of your troubled state. You're nervous, because of your father who is strict in the “relationship” stage. You can feel your father's gaze whenever your aunt teases you in the past of having a potential boyfriend.

You looked at wriothesley, “I have trust in you wrio, I know, it's just— that's my father we are talking about. I don't want this in jeopardy, I— I just want to be with you..”

Oh, that melted Wriothesley's heart. And he's actually flustered.

“Babe, look at me” he cupped your cheeks looking at your eyes that were about to tear up. “I promise you, I'll do my best to make that happen okay? I got you.” He then kissed your forehead and rested his forehead on yours.

© 2024 loving-august. All Rights Reserved. Do not repost. Do not plagiarize. Do not share on other platforms. Will get slapped if u do.

imagine for a moment, that you and wriothesley's wedding is held on that enormous ship he constructed...

wriothesley had made it to save the people of fontaine from the flood. that was its purpose--a savior, a symbol of hope. and to him, marrying you is something of just as equal or even greater stature.

inmates and guards alike help ready the ship for the duke's grand wedding. the great arches and the bows are decorated in flowing white cloth, pinned in place with bouquets of rainbow roses. a grand kitchen is set up below deck to provide the food for the wedding, and the entire music club of the fortress is commissioned to provide live music.

on the day of the wedding wriothesley commands the great ship to soar into the air after all of its guests have come on board. the guestlist is substantial; friends of yours and friends of his, which include clorinde, navia, sigewinne, furina and of course, the officiant, neuvilette himself.

in the moments leading up to the wedding he's pacing in the captain's quarters, clorinde and neuvilette both in there with him. neuvilette assures him that everything will go smoothly (by his authority as the mother fucking hydro dragon) while clorinde just tells him to get a grip and stop worrying because you are so tooth-rottingly in love with him that there's not a chance in hell you would ever back out now.

they're both right, of course, but he still cries when he sees you walk down the aisle. his lip is trembling the entire time he recites his vows, holding your smaller hands in his larger ones. and when you kiss him, now as his wife, oh, he's ascended.

he'll be very sure to show you how grateful he is on your wedding night, of course ;)

Mutual Comfort

Content: comfort fluff headcanons, he comforts you and then he gets comforted too, gn reader, you/your, old writing of Wriothesley :p

-Should he say something? Obviously he should, he thinks as he watches your shoulders slump as you enter the shared sleeping quarters. Wriothesley, as big and burly as he is and uncaring on the outset, he cares too much for you to even take a step back to think things through. Rather, he thinks in stride,  approaching you from behind, wrapping his arms around your stomach and burying his cold nose into the crook of your neck. His lips leave a feather light touch against the skin too, but instead of kissing it, he asks you what is wrong, in a tone so soft that it is nearly out of character for him. 

-He rubs your hips as he goads you on to speak to him, please tell him what’s wrong, his touch says, how can he make it better, his kiss to your skin says, he has to do or say something that could possibly improve your mood or else he will crumble along with you

“Mon doux amour, tell me what is bothering you.. Don’t feel like this around me, like you have to hold it all to yourself. I’m not here just to look good or to act like a wall.. I’m your lover, your safe space, mon soleil..” he speaks into your ear, holding you against his chest as if you’d fall if he didn’t have his hands to hold you upright

-Slowly but surely, he pries away at your walls until you spill all the truth of your feelings to him. After he feels the need to stay with you for a while longer, to be your rock. His presence is not overwhelming or pressuring, and he gives you ample space and silence to make you comfortable and safe again. If you wish to be left alone completely, then he obliges, but not before telling you that you can always  turn to him, either for advice, a simple chat or a tea service. It doesn’t matter. He will be there for you to lean on, and he will kiss every insecurity away from your thoughts

-The same sentiment goes for him, even if oftentimes he greatly prioritizes your wellbeing over his own. He knows his limits and that they are nearly skill high, but oftentimes, too, he neglects himself for the sake of longer work hours, especially when there’s an issue in the underworld that needs his attention. He doesn’t want to see this place fail, he is not some snob that likes to see people suffer. If he was, there’d be no infirmary, and no free meals, no entertainment, no coupons, nothing but prison cells and depression and a fortress that would eventually end up flooded

-So when he sees you enter his office with a tray of tea and some snacks, he knows he has gone too far. He buries his face in his hands as he sits at his table, embarrassed to look at you but not too embarrassed not to crack some joke on his expense. And by teasing you, he hopes to lessen the importance of the situation to remove the stress he sees in your eyes and your posture, clear worry written all over you

- ”Surely this isn’t what I think it is ? You’ve missed me? How come?” he grins a toothy grin, but his eyes give away how tired he is and the moment you propose the idea of a break he sighs and his head hangs lower. He knows he can’t persuade you to leave him to his work again and he knows he can’t sweet talk his way out. So he agrees to the tea, and the break, as he always does when you ask. He sits close to you rather than opposite of you. He is craving that contact he didn’t have for the few days he holed himself up in his work business. 

-He is sure to touch you in some gentle manners. He runs his fingers up your forearm and then down, idly stroking the skin with the tips of his calloused fingers as he sips his tea, and then the next time he slides his fingers down towards your hand he sneaks his fingers between yours, interlocking your hands.

-He can’t help but feel at ease like this, and sometimes in situations like these, when it is just the two of you, you can easily catch him looking at you. Admiring you in such a way that is so pure and gentle. Like a puppy. He doesn’t even hide it, and when you catch him, the corners of his mouth twist upwards in a soft smile and his eyes sparkle as you give him attention. How  sweet

-In the privacy of his office, he leans on to you now, his head on your shoulder and his soft breaths warming your skin

-Even when he is stressed, he doesn’t lack words to compliment you inside and outside, and at times he finds himself feeling overwhelmed with the love he feels. He never put his focus on love, and never really thought he’d find someone suitable for him, but now that he has that.. he is almost lost at navigating the territory. He just knows he’d do anything for you.

Translations:

Mon doux amour - my sweet love

mon soleil - my sun

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ hit it till you catch a cramp

synopsis. ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ being intimate with wriothesley doesn't always go as planned. // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡

cw. rough syx, sweaty, awkward sex moment with the duke himself, fem! reader ♡

soft lips press against your forehead as wriothesley drags his hips against you with one heavy roll forward— and he's greedy, what more was there to expect when he hasn't seen you all week and could only dream on how you'd feel wrapped around him, with your walls twitching as your erect nipples scratch at his solid chest.

you feel your arousal drip out from each smack of his balls hitting your skin as it slid down your ass, turning you utterly absorbed as his hands freely roam over your naked body, your pussy rewarding him with a good squeeze due to his attentive ways of giving each and every part of you enough attention.

"t-that's good angel?" wriothesley drawls out a slow whisper before completely thrusting himself into you without warning, his weight dipping against your body as you're being pressed between his sweat afflicted chest and a doused mattress.

you're too much— and in his eyes, you're being way too irresistible tonight as well— no matter if it's due to the fact that he's been practically awaiting this ever since monday. not only that but the duke was forcing himself not to masturbate to the thought of you and instead, patiently sit still and focus on work until he was able to taste you again.

it had been utterly worth it in the end. always.

you're panting out, arching your back and gripping at his shoulders as he thrusts into you with an impossible pace, tossing his head back and exposing his adams apple upon swallowing thickly. you were certain that wriothesley had to be carved by gods, that his body was a work of art, meticulously drawn with blood, tears and passion, he was beautiful, and the love he gave to you was ravishing in its own rights.

he was yours, yours and yours and he makes you go crazy— yet, if only you were aware that you managed to make him become even crazier and more addictive to your complete person.

your personality, your beauty, your taste.

your skin feels sticky as wriothesley continues to drill the rummaging thoughts straight out of you, clenching his jaw in concentration as he wiped his forehead to get rid of the tousled bangs sticking at the glossy skin.

it's like time has stopped for the both of you, and your stomach was sitting heavy with a coil that was awaiting to be broken when in a trice, wriothesley's hips stutter in midst a long thrust, his previously rough technique turning messier when he tries to regain it, "ahh— wait, fuck," the duke chokes out, shooting you an aching look on his face before placing a palm against his flexed thigh, "just a second baby, yeah,"

"w-what's wrong?" you ask, dusted in lust and sweat as he slowly slides himself out of you.

instinctively, you pout and wince at the sheer loss of him, the fullness of his shaft melting into your softness that never failed to ignite a heat, a need, what it took to nurish your wanting, "is everything okay?"

your voice was firm as your eyes focus at your boyfriend, precisely his hand furiously rubbing at his thigh. he clears his throat as quietly as he could, as to not make a big deal out of it, "— a cramp, i got a cramp, fuck, hold on, okay," he frowns, his strawberry red cheeks refusing to face you before he climbs out of the bed.

his cock was still painfully erect with a condom wrapped around the shaft, glossed with your arousal. you grab onto the blanket to cover yourself a little before grinning at him cheekily, your body propped among pillows as you watched him.

"you're getting old, baby," you jest, smirking as his fingers dug into the plush of his skin, massaging the muscle, "i might need to go easier on you in the future," you add on playfully as at last, winning back his intrigued eye contact.

"you think so?" he clicks his tongue, his cheeky smile all set this time as he crawls back into the bed, his weight forcing the mattress to bounce a bit.

wriothesley finds himself in between your legs again before you welcome him back into your arms. there was so much love in his eyes, a pleading love— hand in hand with an unwavering loyalty as his breath wafts over your lips.

"you know what?" he asks.

"what?"

"it still hurts,"

you laugh to the point where your belly was starting to actually hurt, the blunt admittance said with a gentle tone might've been the best way on how to deliver this sentence to you, "i'm pretty sure i pulled a muscle,"

"i'm sorry but—," you snort before hiding your face in his neck to laugh out, pulling him into your hug tighter, "hey! i'm being serious, don't laugh, it's not funny," wriothesley speaks in both earnest and amusement before silently resting his head against your own.

your hands fall against his precious hair as you stroke over his scalp sensually, the both of you getting carried away by the soft, intimate moment of embracing each other in a raw, playful way.

by that time, you've long since forgotten about the couple minutes prior of skin clashing against skin as you cradle his cheeks to make him look at you softly, "lay down," you command, his marvelous eyes staring back at you, "i'll give you a massage grandpa," you laugh as he hums with a playful roll of his eyes before you frel his lips place a tender kiss on the corner of your mouth.

"what did i ever do to deserve someone so beautiful such as you?"

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

“Love? Is everything alright?”

He stops in his tracks by the doorway when he sees the dejected look on your face. Your attention is on the illuminated screen in front of you as words threaten to tear down the pieces of you that are already hanging by a thread.

He inches closer and reaches for your phone; you make no move to stop him and he’s surprised at how light your grip is. His eyes scan across the screen and the toxic words that others are saying to you. The frown is evident on his face and he holds back a bitter remark out of fear that bringing it up would only make your feelings worse.

You watch, emotionlessly, as he tosses the phone aside and climbs into bed with you, open arms envelop you in a warm, hazy hug.

The ice encasing your heart is slowly thawing and you try your hardest not to let the overflow of emotions burst at the seams.

“You don’t need any of them, any of that. I’m here. You only need me.”

~\~\~\~\💜

~Any of your faves

I just had some wild thoughts….just something about reader not wanting wrio to pulls out even after he came like 😀😀 the reader would just wraps their leg around him and begs him to stay inside

I’m not sure if you’re looking for a wholesome, fluffy version or a spicy, smut version anon so I’ll do both! Enjoy!~ (Also, shoutout to my coworker for helping me think of male scents for Wrio. She a real one lmao)

~Sfw Version~

~warnings: mention of sex/orgasms, cockwarming, otherwise just fluff, snuggling, slight aftercare, fem!reader, MDNI!

His sweaty body falls ontop of yours as you both breathe heavily, hearts beating fast as you come down from the euphoric high orgasm. Once he gains his awareness, he pushes off of you as to not crush you with his muscled weight. As he was about to pull his cock out so he could lay next to you, his movements are stopped as you wrap your legs around his hips. “Not yet Wrio. I want your cock in me for a little longer.” You beg as you look up at him with a needy look. How could he say no to you, especially since you look so glorious laid out on his sheets like that. He chuckles and flips you two around so you’re straddling his lap, cock fit snuggly inside your pussy as he wraps his arms around you. You rest your head in the crook of his neck and inhale his scent. Sweat with the hint of aftershave and the smell of spice and black vanilla. Nuzzling your nose into his neck, you press a kiss to his skin. Smiling, he uses one hand to comb his fingers through your hair as his other arm wraps securely around your hips, keeping you close. “We’ll stay like this just a little longer, then I’ll run us a bath, my dear.” You only reply with a mumble, eyes getting heavy as exhaustion overtakes you. The calming pace of his steady breathing, the secure hold he has on you, and the mesmerizing touch of his fingers in your hair easily lulls you to sleep. It’s not long until slight snores can be heard from you. Smiling, he presses a light kiss to your forehead, then closes his eyes to bask in the serene moment of closeness and silence.

~Nsfw Version~

~warnings: smut, mentions of grinding, cum, cockwarming, slight aftercare, fem!reader, MDNI!

Laying on top of you, he holds his upper half up while his head rests in the crook of your neck, he breathes heavily as he tries to gain his senses from the mindbreaking orgasm he just had. Once his cock finally finishes spurting his warm seed inside of you, he begins to pull out until he’s stopped by your legs wrapping around his hips. He’s caught off guard for a second and gives you a questioning look. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull his face close to yours and look deeply into his eyes. “Not yet Wrio. I want your cock in me for just a little longer. Please?” You beg then peck his lips. He replies with pulling you into another kiss. This one deeper and longer, more passionate. Your tongues interwine as the kiss turns more intense. You moan into the kiss as his hands explore your skin, groping your most sensitive areas. You smirk as you feel his cock twitch inside your pussy. “I see I’m not the only one who wants more.”

“Can you blame me? How can I not get hard from kissing your sweet, delicious lips and hearing the sinful moans that leave them.” He kisses you again, lips moving from your mouth, down to your chin, to your neck, to lick and nibble on the already bitten skin. Tilting your head to give him more access, your eyes close and your hips involuntarily move against his as you whisper his name. “Fuck,” he quietly curses. His hips grind against yours, pelvis rubbing against your sensitive clit, as he searches for that pleasurable friction. Your hands grab his ass, helping to guide him to rub harder against your clit. Your nails dig into his skin, causing him to groan and bite harder onto your neck. The bed creaks and bumps against the wall from your movements. It doesn’t take long until you’re both shaking from the immense pleasure as you cum on his cock and he spills into you once again. He falls unto his side and pulls you close to him, keeping his cock snuggled in you. Rubbing your back, you both try to steady your breathing and fast heartbeats. Once calm, you both look at one another and break into a giggling fit. “That was..wow.” Wrio says as his laughter subsides. “I suppose I should tell you not to pull out sooner.” You teasingly flirt. He smiles at you and pulls you into a passionate kiss. Once you two pull away, you press your forehead to his, nuzzling your nose against his. “I love you, Wrio.” His hold on you tightens. “I love you too, my Duchess.” He presses one final kiss to your forehead and holds you close in his arms as you two finally succumb to sleep. 

Helloo! :>

May I ask to request a hurt/comfort of Wriothesley walking in on s/o hyperventilating? Thanksss!

You tried your best to calm yourself down. Wriothesley had an especially busy day today and you knew that not only would he be back late, he'd also be exhausted and you didn't want to be the reason that his evening is ruined. He'd want nothing more than to be able to finally relax.

Despite your incessant reminders to yourself you find yourself collapsed on the bed, trying desperately to count out the spaces between your breaths to slow down your breathing. The clock stares at you tauntingly, reminding you with each passing moment that you're failing at the simple task of breathing which unfortunately does nothing to actually help you calm.

By the time Wriothesley finds you your vision is starting to blur the slightest bit. You feel a slight pounding in your head, realising that you really must be having a hard time if your body is beginning to protest at the lack of oxygen you've accidentally contributed to.

You barely hear him rush to your side, pulling you into his strong arms and guiding your breathing with the rise and fall of his own chest against you. He's able to finally calm you down enough that you can look at him properly, eyes slowly focusing on the concerned look he has on his face.

He doesn't need to ask you if you're okay - you look jittery and anxious beyond comprehension. He doesn't ask as he settles in bed beside you, pulling you into his chest and starting to tell you about his day. You're thankful he's so receptive to your cues, burying your face in his chest and losing yourself in the sound of his voice.

“WHY BE FRIENDS IF WE CAN BE LOVERS?” — WRIOTHESLEY, NEUVILLETTE, ALHAITHAM, & KAMISATO AYATO

in which genshin men decide being friends is not enough. why be friends when you could clearly be so much better as lovers? part two of “we’re just friends, but…” (<- read part one for better understanding of each)

contains: female reader (use of miss, milady/my lady, lovely lady, and madame) ; fluff (slight hints of angst but all happy endings) ; confessions, friends to lovers, wriothesley: implied harassment of reader by an inmate, reader is a doctor at the fortress, angry and possessive wriothesley, jealousy ; neuvillette: reader works at the palais, melusine features, neuvillette is implied to be emotional and make it rain ; alhaitham: mentions of drinking alcohol (alhaitham), vulnerable alhaitham, reader can cook ; ayato: slightly insecure reader, mentions of reader being in a lower class than ayato

WRIOTHESLEY

wriothesley is not a possessive man, despite his feelings for you.

he’s long accepted that somewhere between frequent visits to you in the infirmary and occasional lunches together as fellow colleagues at the fortress, he’s fallen hopelessly hard for you. how could he not, when you’re so gentle-natured, smart, and unfairly pretty?

but still, wriothesley is not a possessive man. when men praise you to the archons and admire your unearthly beautiful smile, he is not possessive. when he grumpily watches your fingers brush against bare chests of the wounded after pankration matches, he is not possessive. when you shyly thank an inmate who rushes to hold a door open for you, he is not possessive.

but even wriothesley has his limits. and they happen to snap over the edge today—because now, as a man corners you against the wall, pestering you until distress is clear on your face, wriothesley feels possessive.

it’s a shameful feeling, but it’s one he can’t help. he’s tolerated many things, enough of them that make him wash down the bitter taste of jealousy with the most soothing tea he can find in his collection. but this? this is beyond the patience of even a kind warden such as himself.

you, whether you or anyone else in this fortress knows it, are his to protect.

so he walks up, fisting the inmate’s shirt and lifting him up to drag away from you, jaw tight and locked as he asks lowly, “is there a problem? if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you were giving this lovely lady here some trouble.”

“y-your grace,” the man, to his credit, has a good mind to look remorseful, eyeing you nervously for a moment before rapidly shaking his head. “n-no, i was just…i was just askin’ her if she’d like some help findin’ her way is all. you know the fortress can be confusin’ ’n such.”

the inmate trails off, nervously chuckling as he quivers in the warden’s unforgiving hold.

wriothesley glances at you, raising an unconvinced eyebrow as he asks, “and do you need any help finding your way, miss?”

“no,” you shake your head, voice a bare whisper.

his jaw tightens further, glancing back at the man before he snarls lowly, “then you leave her alone. don’t let me catch you bothering her again, understood?”

“y-yes, your grace!”

wriothesley releases the man’s shirt, crumpled from his iron grip as he stares, eyes narrowed—threatening, even, as he waits for the brave soul (for anyone who bothers you where he’s in charge is the bravest of all souls) to leave. not one moment is wasted before you watch the inmate scramble away, leaving you alone with a tense, disgruntled duke in your hands.

“thank you,” you whisper, “i’m not sure how much longer he’d have bothered me if you hadn’t shown up.”

“anyone else ever try that before?” he seethes. you’ve never seen him so angry before—something about it feels almost personal.

you shake your head, stepping away from the wall as you walk over to him. “no, wriothesley,” you murmur, “no one gives me a hard time. this was a first.”

“let me know if anyone bothers you,” he grunts, fist still clenched even with no shirt to hold like earlier. “i’ll take care of it.”

you eye the way it’s tightly curled, knuckles almost ghostly white from the pressure before you gently grab his hand, working his fingers loose from his tight grip and rubbing a soothing thumb over the crescent mark from his nails along his palm.

“of course,” you smile softly, “though, i’m sure word will spread quickly that the warden doesn’t appreciate his doctor being bothered by persistent men. i don’t think there will be any repeats of this incident.”

he should feel ashamed.

you think so highly of him—defaulting to believing he’d saved you because he was only worried for your wellbeing, and not because it burned him alive to see a man so close to you, a man who desired you just as much as he did and had stooped to such unchivalrous methods to have you.

faintly, he’s aware that your hand is still grasping his, still rubbing a thumb over the angry, red marks along his palm as you study him carefully. he’s sure there’s not much he hides in his expression—you must be reading him like an open book. he can’t bring himself to care, however, not when the sight of someone else pinning you to a wall and towering over you is still so fresh in his head.

“something on your mind, your grace?” you ask, leaning closer.

perhaps, if he was a stronger man, one with more firm principles, he’d know to pull away and give you your space. but you lean closer, and he’s weak to his own desires, so he takes it as an invitation to lean closer himself.

“yes,” he admits, “i…i’m afraid i had less than honorable intentions when stepping in.”

“oh?” you raise a brow, looking at him in fond amusement. maybe you already know, he thinks, if your lack of surprise tells him anything. “enlighten me, then. what were your intentions?”

“to make sure no man comes close to you,” he mumbles, leaning closer while you do the same, your noses just barely brushing as your breath all but mingles.

“why?” you ask. it almost sounds like a plead—like you’re waiting to hear something desperately.

“because it’s unbearable to see you with other men,” he says hoarsely. if you’re uncomfortable, you don’t show it. but he has reason to believe you’re quite the opposite, in fact, when your eyes seem to brighten.

“and if i were to say i appreciate your intentions?” you ask softly.

finally, his jaw loosens—instead, he replaces the clench with a loose, easy grin, one that allows him to chuckle lowly as he stares at you with a playful disbelief.

“that so?” he hums, “perhaps then you’d care to join me for dinner today, milady—i’ll have the finest meal the cafeteria has to offer waiting for you.”

“on a date?” you ask hopefully.

“on a date,” he confirms with a slight nod.

you kiss his cheek, making his breath catch in his throat as you step away and smile gleefully. “i’ll see you at dinner then, your grace.”

NEUVILLETTE

the first day you skip your newfound routine of tea and desserts with neuvillette and the many, many melusines that join, it rains. harshly so, in fact.

you walk up to the palais, soaked from the unexpected weather as you grin sheepishly at a concerned sedene.

“madame!” she gasps, “oh, you’ve been caught in the weather!”

“it’s alright, sedene,” you chuckle, “it’s nothing new in fontaine to have unexpected rain. i suppose i should’ve planned accordingly. is monsieur neuvillette in his office? i have papers for him,” you hold up a file.

sedene fidgets for a moment, hesitant as she says, “yes…he’s in his office but…well, i should warn you that he’s not in the best of moods.”

“oh dear,” you furrow your brows, “how unfortunate. i’ll make it quick. they’re quite urgent papers.”

she nods at your promise—and just before you can turn to leave, she stops you, seemingly debating before making a final comment.

“you didn’t join us today, madame,” she starts, “for tea today during the monsieur’s break.”

“oh,” you tilt your head in surprise for a moment, “you’re right, i didn’t. i apologize if you were waiting on me. i was caught up with much paperwork to finish before i came in.”

“i see. perhaps monsieur neuvillette will appreciate knowing that, then,” she smiles.

before you can ask, she skips away, finding a group of melusines in the corner. you watch as they whisper away behind their paws, blinking back your confusion before walking towards the door of neuvillette’s office, knocking gently.

“monsieur neuvillette? may i come in? i have some papers that must be delivered to you.”

there’s a shuffle from inside, a clearing of the iudex’s throat before a raspy, “yes, of course. come in.”

you enter, walking in slowly as you close the distance between the door and his desk, smiling as you set the file down in your hands. he looks rather…well, you’re not sure, exactly—perhaps the best word would be melancholy. suddenly, sedene’s words from earlier ring in your head, and you wonder if there’s any relation between your absence and his seemingly downcast mood.

so you give him an apologetic look as you speak. “i apologize if my absence was a surprise to you today. it seems i lost track of time with paperwork. i hope you enjoyed a peaceful break with the melusines,” you hum, “you certainly need a proper break with all the duties you take on.”

against your better judgement, you reach over, brushing a strand of misplaced hair from his forehead and tucking it back in place. rarely does the chief justice of fontaine ever look less than prim and proper, if ever at all—and the action causes you to pause just as much as it does him.

he breaks the silence first, and if he notices the slight flustered expression on your face, he doesn’t point it out as he says gently, “it’s quite alright. i’m sure you’re a busy individual.”

“i do quite enjoy my routine visit,” you say shyly, “it was a shame i couldn’t join today. but rest assured, i’ll be present tomorrow.”

“i’m glad to hear it,” he seems to brighten a bit, a gentle smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he admits in a quieter voice, “truthfully, i had assumed you didn’t want to join me—or excuse me, us,” he coughs, correcting himself at the end.

“oh dear,” you furrow your brows, crinkles forming in your forehead as you quickly shake your head, “of course i love joining you. today was a rare occasion, i’m afraid. i hope i didn’t upset you, monsieur.”

“no,” he shakes his head just as quickly. he coughs, clearing his throat as he adds, “it’s just that i…well, i have come to enjoy your company. a little more than i perhaps should.”

he doesn’t meet your gaze, cheeks flushed a gentle shade of pink as you take in his words. silently after a moment, with a bright grin on your face that spreads across your lips and finds itself in the deepest of crinkles in your eyes, you slowly reach over to cup his face.

neuvillette, no matter how trained in self control, cannot help but lean into your touch, staring at you with wide eyes as you rub a delicate circle into the swell of his cheek.

“i’ve come to enjoy your company as well, monsieur. perhaps…perhaps it would be nice to enjoy each other’s company outside of the palais as well,” you offer. and then, eyeing the small opening in the door, you add, “somewhere away from prying eyes.”

neuvillette watches as the door quickly shuts, the soft giggles of the melusines muffled behind the door as he chuckles in amusement. his hand cups the back of your own, cheek laying comfortably in your palm.

“yes,” he murmurs softly, “i think i would love that.”

ALHAITHAM

alhaitham is not drunk today.

you can tell when you open the door because he’s not swaying, or slurring his words, or staring at you with a hazy look. instead, he’s perfectly sober, perfectly rational, and perfectly collected alhaitham.

you look at him in surprise before smiling in greeting.

“you’re not drunk for once,” you murmur, “i don’t think i ever get a visit from you when you’re not drunk.”

the words make him wince a bit—he doesn’t like the implication of that. alhaitham enjoys your company when he’s not inebriated, especially when he’s not inebriated, in fact. mainly because he can actually recall things that way, like the way you laugh and the crinkle of your eyes. but somehow, being drunk has become a bit of a weekly routine for him at the tavern with his friends (which really, is just cyno and tighnari, and of course, kaveh—but kaveh can hardly be considered a friend these days).

coming to your doorstep every week when he’s drunk becomes a byproduct of his habits. he can’t control them, like an involuntary muscle that moves on its own accord without his permission. just like his heart beats and pumps blood, his feet carry him to find you.

it’s natural, autonomic.

“i didn’t want to drink tonight,” he explains, rubbing his neck awkwardly. alhaitham is blunt—speaking his mind is not a complicated task. he’s sure of his thoughts and opinions, and the response people give them is of little concern to him.

but his thoughts aren’t very coherent when they come to you. he’s not sure of even a single thing, in fact. sure, he knows he likes you—really, really likes you. but sometimes, he contemplates if he’s fallen in love with you. he can’t tell, if he’s being honest, because he’s never been in love before. it’s uncharted waters for even someone as knowledgeable as him.

and then there’s the more difficult part. he’s not sure if you feel the same, or if you’d respond positively to the idea of his developed feelings. logic tells him you’re kind, compassionate, deeply understanding. perhaps you’d let him down gently and still consider him a good friend if you don’t feel the same. but for some reason, there’s an illogical part of him. one he doesn’t recognize. one that tells him that you might walk away and never look twice in his direction again as soon as you realize the nature of his feelings.

logic doesn’t win in his mind for once. it hasn’t for a very long time. it’s why he doesn’t tell you for so long how he feels.but tonight he plans to change that.

regardless of your feelings, requited or unrequited, alhaitham will tell you how he feels. he owes you that much, for all the careful care and deduction you put into handling his drunk self. for all the meals you made and let him eat before letting him crash on your couch. for all the cups of coffee you made his hungover self as you carefully tiptoed around your own home so the noise wouldn’t disturb his pounding head.

he clears his throat, fiddling with his fingers as he stares at his feet.

“do you want to come in?” you offer.

he shakes his head. “i don’t think that’s a good idea. i came…i came to say something.”

“i see,” you nod, “then by all means, share what you have to say.”

it’s not so easy. not when he tries to plan the words in his head as he walks to your home, and not when he’s standing before you. alhaitham is a linguist. he speaks over twenty languages, some of which are known to be romantic by nature. he’s read the divinest of poems and decoded the most complicated of hieroglyphics. he, of all people, should excel in putting words together.

but his tongue feels like sandpaper in his mouth as he stares at you, though. distantly, he’s aware he must look stupid. standing here, silent and stiff as you stand by your door and wait for him to spit out what he has to say.

so he says the first thing he can think—and it makes his face burn as soon as he realizes what he says. “your sabz meat stew is my favorite.”

you grin, chuckling in amusement as you murmur, “oh my, i’m flattered. you came all this way to praise my cooking?”

“n-no,” he sighs in embarrassment, “that…that’s not what i meant.”

you hum, smiling at him softly as you patiently wait for him to speak again. a part of him feels like you’re aware of something, something that maybe even he’s not aware of himself. but he doesn’t want to dwell on that—perhaps your knowledge is a product of his drunken rambles, and he’s not sure he wants to even begin imagining what that might look like. what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

“well, if you must know,” you giggle, “i enjoy making your favorite for you.”

“i enjoy your stew,” he mumbles, concentrating for a moment before his face hardens with determination and he looks at you, “i enjoy waking up on your couch, and drinking your coffee, and the way you hum when you get ready for the day. it’s enjoyable because it’s you.”

you process his words for a moment before smile slowly, eyeing him with wonder as you break into a fit of giggles. he doesn’t have time to dwell on whether or not you’re laughing at him because there’s an arm looping around his bicep, pulling him in past your door and pressing him against it as soon as it’s shut.

you’re close—it’s the first thing he notices, chest brushed against his chest as you look up at him with a fond, affectionate expression.

“you’re a smart man, alhaitham,” you murmur, “i’m sure you can figure out why i make your favorite every time you come. and make your coffee just how you like. and let you sleep in on my couch when i could be spending my morning enjoying the sun.”

he wants to tell you that he doesn’t feel very smart when he’s around you. it’s like logic is a foreign concept as soon as your smile invades his line of sight. but words are difficult enough to produce when you’re so close, he doesn’t think he could tell you even if he tried.

instead, he asks, “because you’re kind?”

“not kind enough to do groceries for two every weekend,” you chuckle. “unless…”

“unless…?” he asks breathlessly.

“unless it’s you, silly,” you snort. “do fill in the lines, will you?”

he allows himself to hope. because it doesn’t take logic to let himself hope you feel the same way he does.

“if…” he takes a deep breath, taking a moment to contemplate before boldly settling his hands on your hips, “if i come here next week sober, would you still open the door for me?”

“of course,” you whisper.

“if i came whenever i wanted, would you still open the door for me?” he asks, eyes peering into yours desperately, begging you to tell him what he wants to hear.

you sigh, gently cupping his cheeks as he closes his eyes and shudders. “always,” you breathe, “will you come?”

“yes,” he nods. his shoulders slump—in relief and in pure bliss as he lets his head drop to the crook of your neck, pressing his nose into your warm skin as you cradle the back of his head. “because i enjoy coming home to you.”

“and i enjoy welcoming you home,” you murmur.

and it’s at the same time that you kiss the side of his head and he kisses the soft skin of your neck, a stumbling mess of limbs pressed against one another as you both find your way to collapse on your familiar couch.

KAMISATO AYATO

it’s midnight when there’s a knock on your door. it’s rushed, an incessant tapping against the surface that almost has you concerned, but the familiar face through the peephole eases your worries.

and then it hits you—ayato is here. beyond the question of how he has the time to visit you so unexpectedly, there’s the concern of what people might think if he’s seen here so late, standing outside your door.

“ayato? why are you here?” you look at him in confusion as you open the door, eyebrows furrowing as he smiles at you.

“well, hello. such an enthusiastic greeting you’ve afforded me,” he says playfully, making you roll your eyes. “won’t you even invite me in?”

“well, come on then,” you huff, “it’s always something or another with you.”

“whatever do you mean?” he gasps, a hand pressing to his chest in mock hurt, “i’ve simply come to have a heartfelt conversation.”

“at this hour?” you cross your arms, scoffing at his timing. still, you could never turn him away.

it’s not of any trouble to you—ayato knows it too. but there’s something oddly vulnerable about having him in your home, and unexpectedly at that. suddenly, everything feels out of place and untidy to you, a contrast to the large, sophisticated estate you’re sure he must be used to. you shift on your feet, feeling the scrutinizing gaze of someone as important as the yashiro commissioner, standing in your small home where you have nowhere to hide.

“ah,” he nods in amusement, “how impolite of me. shall i take my departure, then?”

“i could hardly turn the yashiro commissioner away without allowing him to speak,” you shake your head, fighting back a smile as he grins. “pray tell, what could have prompted such a spontaneous visit?”

“i’d like to ask for your hand,” he says bluntly.

you blink, gaping at him in disbelief. ayato has never been cruel—in fact, he’s always been much the opposite. especially to you. he’s become painfully important, a friendship you’ve never expected but cannot fathom existing without now that you have him.

but something about this feels cruel, like he’s aware of the deeper feelings you’ve accidentally let surface in the process, feelings you try to push back desperately. how could the yashiro commissioner be seen with someone so far from his realm? someone so disconnected from his world and status?

you furrow your brows, looking at him unimpressed as you murmur, “that’s hardly funny, ayato. be serious.”

“i am serious,” he tilts his head, “i, kamisato ayato, would like to ask for your hand, milady. if you would be so kind, that is.”

his hand is offered to you—and something in your aches to reach for it. to feel his fingers intertwined with yours, to feel the rough calluses of his hands from years of swordsmanship, to feel the gentle warmth of his palm pressed up against yours.

“i-in marriage?” you ask in utter confusion.

he chuckles, hand still outstretched as he raises an eyebrow. “well, i figured marriage would be a bit sudden, but far be it from me to deny such an enthusiastic idea.”

you’re not sure why (or maybe you are, and you simply hate to admit it), but there’s a burning sting in the back of your eyes. something bubbling between humiliation and hurt and flooding in the form of tears as you stare at him unsure if he’s lost his mind, or if he’s simply joking at your expense.

ayato has never made you feel like a victim of casual cruelty from his end, so a small part of you wonders if he’s truly serious. but the more logical part of you tells you that if not a mere attempt at playfulness, what else could this be?

“this isn’t funny,” you whisper, voice small. “i hardly find such pranks entertaining, ayato. i thought you to be better than that.”

it’s silent. deafeningly so, in fact.

his hand drops—slowly, hesitant as he eyes you in uncertainty. he takes a step towards you, closing the distance enough to notice every small detail of your face, but leaving enough of a gap so as not to overstep.

“i hardly find any entertainment in offering myself up, either,” he murmurs, “do reject me gently if you intend to. i’m afraid my age is catching up to me—i have a weak heart.”

“you’re hardly old,” you snort, watching him suppress a smile as he studies you. “you’re really being serious?”

“do you doubt me?”

“i suppose not,” you whisper. his hand extends to you again, something hopeful in his eyes, something almost desperate as he stares at you and waits for you to finally take it in your grasp.

your hand slowly finds his, fingertips grazing those calluses you’ve noticed for so long, rough and firm under the delicateness of your touch. finally, it hits you he came without gloves on, and you realize it must be for the chance of feeling your skin against his, bare touch with no fabric to separate either of you.

you feel him, taking in the years and years of training that show through such toughened skin, and he watches you carefully as you trace along his palm before flattening your own against him, slowly lacing your fingers together.

“i have found the man who attacked you,” he says quietly, “and i’m ashamed to admit the…unsavory methods i was prepared to take to punish his crimes.”

“i hope you wouldn’t stoop to such levels for me,” you say quietly.

“i fear there isn’t much i wouldn’t resort to for your safety,” he admits.

“i’m hardly worth such trouble,” you shake your head, smiling softly as you reach over and cup his cheek, thumb brushing gently against the mole you’ve always ached to feel. whether from the brush of your lips or from the graze of your thumb, you’ve always wondered how it’d feel. “there are much more worthy women to be the object of your affections, my lord.”

“ayato,” he corrects. it sounds like a plead, if you listen carefully. “and not to me,” he shakes his head. “it’s you i desire. i’m afraid i cannot concentrate on my duties until i have you. the nation shall befall a most unfortunate fate if i must suffer a single night more without having you.”

“i’m starting to think i am the only hope inazuma has left,” you roll your eyes, staring at him in wonder, “it seems it has fallen to me to ensure we have a functioning yashiro commissioner.”

“i do hope you’ll take such responsibilities seriously.” his hand lays over your own, keeping your touch in place as he leans his face into your palm further, closing his eyes and relishing in your touch.

“oh, ayato,” you chuckle breathlessly, eyes watery as you step closer, closing the gap until your chest presses against his. you wonder if he can hear the rapid thrumming of your heart, if he can feel it. “you’ll be the death of me.”

“i should hope not,” he chuckles, leaning closer and closer until his lips hover over yours, just a millimeter away from brushing against them, “i fear for my own sanity should such an ill fate come before you.”

“oh kiss me, you fool,” you scoff tiredly at his antics.

he doesn’t waste a moment, pressing his lips hungrily against yours, hands wandering to your waist and instantly pulling you closer, fitting his palm to cradle the small of your back. he chases your lips frantically when you pull away, a low grunt of disapproval rumbling from his chest before he plants his lips against yours once more. he kisses you like he’s crossed oceans upon oceans to find you, fixed on keeping you not more than a fingertips distance away at all times so that he’ll never lose you again.

and finally—finally, once he’s decided he’s sufficiently stolen the air from your lungs, he allows you to pull back and breathe.

“i’m afraid i can be a rather overbearing lover,” he murmurs against your lips, pecking them lightly. “you’ll hardly be free of me should i desire your company.”

you chuckle, leaning to kiss his mole softly, cradling his face. “i believe i’ll find a way to cope,” you grin.

ayato was fun to write last time, and he was just as fun to write this time and i am realizing i have some real hidden feelings for the man the more i write him. i really enjoy doing his dialogue, though i’m not sure if i do it justice. i sure hope i do 🥹

Hi there! I saw that you accept requests! So, I was thinking about Wriothesley having a special person who is basically a sunshine, who loves nature, seeing the sky, singing and basically being a darling, but who has experienced very traumatic situations. But despite this they don't lose their innocence and warm smile.

I would love to read something like that.

Thank you, and take care!

Helooo, this sounds absolutely adorable! I will do my best!

Sorry if this took a bit long, I hope you like it ^^

Wriothesley x Reader - Brighter Than The Sun

Characters: Wriothesley, Reader

Summary: Reader is a little sunshine and Wrio is down BAD

Warning: unadulterated fluff bro

A/N: I posted this without text by mistake lmao

Wriothesley sighed heavily as he read the same sentence for the third time. He had been on the same stack of papers for about an hour with scarce results. He couldn't seem to focus and the more he willed the clock to go faster the slower the hands seemed to move. Tea break felt ages away.

He let his head fall into the desk with a thick thud and groaned in frustration. What was this? The fourth break he took? Today there seemed to be no way to get his work done.

Oh how he wished he could hear you sing, maybe it would reset his brain. Unfortunately for him you had gone out to the court of fontaine to run some errands, his valiant attempts to keep you glued to him in bed proved to be futile.

Sometimes he struggled to believe you were real and right at his side. You always had a soft smile on your face, eyes shining. To him your eyes weren't the only part of you that shone, in fact he saw all of you as a star. You went about your day shining with the force of a thousand suns, comforting whoever was around you simply with your reassuring presence. The first time he had experienced this quality of yours was also the first time he had met you. He was having a bad day and he was this close to punching whoever rubbed him the wrong way first, you on the other hand were happily chatting with a friend of yours at the reception desk. You didn't belong there, instead having come to visit said friend at her new job. Hell he wouldn't believe you belonged in the fortress even if he saw you commit a crime with his own eyes.

The receptionist had gone in fight or flight mode as soon as she had seen him, stammering a greeting. You turned and met his gaze, following with a polite greeting and that warm smile of yours. There wasn't any fear in your shiny eyes, nor pity for him being there for that matter. Your relaxed demeanor intrigued him, he was used to people feeling tense around him, yet you didn't seem to be. You then asked him about the fortress, roping him into a conversation he didn't think he needed. He realized at the end of it, that he was much calmer than before and even though the conversation was one he had had many times, he felt refreshed.

Later he had summoned the courage to ask the receptionist about you and the rest became history. He still looked back fondly to that day, as he did with every memory he had of you. There was this warmth about you and everything you did, he simply couldn't get enough of it. It wasn't surprising he had fallen head over heels for you. You had accepted every part of him without question, even the darkest corners, so much so, that your light had made those corners a little less daunting. What had surprised him though, was that you yourself had dark corners. He struggled to believe someone who shone so brightly as you did, had such big of a baggage to carry around.

Later he had witnessed when your light dimmed as you cried in his arms about the same reoccurring nightmare, about all the blood you had seen spilled, about the fear you had faced. Yet even if dimmed, you never stopped shining.

A knock at the door made him almost jump out of his chair. He was so engrossed in the details of your radiant face in his mind that he had gotten distracted. Wriothesley sighed yet again. He figured he couldn't get more distracted than this at that point so he answered.

"Come in" he absentmindedly ordered the stack of papers on his desk, swearing to himself he would get to them at some point.

What he hadn't expected, was for you to show up into his office, at least not at this hour.

"Wriooo" you sang cheerfully as you skipped towards his desk with your hands behind your back.

"Welcome back, I wasn't expecting you to be back so early" he got up from his chair, maybe a little too eagery, pulling an amused chuckle out of you.

"I finished all my commissions" you said "missed me?"

"Of course I did" he admitted and pulled you in for a hug. You responded right away, burying your head in his sculpted chest. When his muscles were at rest he made a damn good pillow and you loved it.

"I brought you something!" You beamed, letting him go briefly to hand hin a small green bag "I hope you don't have this one yet"

"Thank you darling" he took the bag from your hands and pressed a kiss to your cheek, followed by one on your lips. You hummed contently in response.

"Well, lucky for you I don't have this tea yet. I've actually wanted to order this for some time" Wriothesley studied the tea bag intently "how about an early tea break? I want to try this with you" he took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles.

"Absolutely, I've also brought pastries!" You gestured to a colorful paper bag you had left by the door when entering.

"Oh how lost I would be without you" the duke said in a rather dramatic tone.

"I bet" you poked at his nose, grinning.

Your light was almost blinding. Nonetheless he would still keep staring at his sun even if it blinded him.

Hello! Can I request a Wriothesley hurt/comfort with a slow eater!s/o, where Wriothesley discovers s/o's unhealthy habit of eating less food than needed(so they could finish eating along with Wriothesley) and s/o eventually tells him that this is bcs of their parent's constant nagging and pressure?

I hope this isn't too confusing cri

AAAAA I LOVE YOUR WRITINGS THOUGH THEY'RE JUST *chef's kiss*

tbh i dont really quite understand whats happening here but!! i hope i got it!!

Wriothesley doesn't really notice your eating habits because it's not something he's particularly paying attention to. Even if he does figure it out it's not something he'd comment on, not wanting you to think that he meant anything by it.

However, once he notices that your portions are looking a little smaller than what they should be for you he'll start to get concerned. In order to combat it he'll start serving meals for you, adding a little bit more to your plate to see if you'll eat it and he's glad to see that you seem to eat it but when he gets up from the table you follow suit, simply packing the leftovers for another meal.

Now he starts paying attention to when you finish eating, realising that you're trying to match his pace and finish whenever he does. He just slows down himself, taking longer to eat to hope that you'll eat more. You start catching on pretty quickly, asking him if he's alright. He doesn't want to confront you outright but decides to ask you anyway, making sure that you understand he's not judging you, just worried.

Slowly, you start telling him about the worries you carry. He lets you take your time explaining to him what's wrong and comforts you. He does everything he can to help, wanting to support you through your worries. Right now he'll focus on trying to get you to eat better, staying with you for the entire duration of a meal and making sure you eat however much you need.

Thankfully, he's a safe haven for you. He's always there to listen to you when things get too rough, making sure that you're taking care of yourself by taking care of you. Having him on your side helps some of your habits get better, always happy to see when you're doing well.

𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐌𝐄!

... aka fictional boyfriends as things my pet cat does lmfao

༊*·˚ featuring ➻ my genshin, hsr & jjk faves

༊*·˚ gia's notes ➻ switching up the layout bc i can teehee... also this one is kinda slop cos its just every character on my masterlist oop. N E WAYS i found out that im allergic to my cat but love is pain and i am a masochist so here we are

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 DOESN'T RESPOND UNLESS YOU CALL HIM BY HIS NICKNAME.

he's leaning against your kitchen counter, fingers tapping against it as he's poised so deliberately to give off the impression that everything he's doing is so absent-minded. the way he's scrolling through his feed so aimlessly, just tuned out from the world, including you and your futile attempts at getting his attention.

you call his name, tug at his sleeve, and you don't miss the mischievous smirk on his lips as he glances up at you.

"i don't know who that is, sorry, i hope you find him though."

it's infuriating, sometimes, when he lets his more playful side out. but you know him well, and you play along, not being able to help the smile that fights to stay on your lips.

"well then, my beloved, could you help me look for him?"

and there's an instant change from him, back straightening as he stops leaning against your counter, arms open wide to receive you, a beam on his face.

"gladly, my love."

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ kaveh, welt, dan heng, luocha, GETO

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 GETS EXTRA AFFECTIONATE AND CUDDLY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT.

no matter as to whether you had gone to bed with him or before, you're woken up prematurely in the middle of the night at the sensation of your body being moved, ever so gently, across the sheets, closer towards a warm body that nestles itself solidly behind you.

you're barely awake, but you smile to yourself at the newfound comfort, having drifted away as you slept, and now happily reunited.

"i missed you," he breathes against your ear, turning his head to dip down and press kisses to your cheek. you smile, nose scrunching at the ends of his hair that tickle your skin, but welcome it nonetheless.

his arm slips around you, keeping you safely anchored to him, and he lets out a contented hum that almost sounds like he's purring, chest solid against your back.

"you're acting like you've come back from war," you murmur, and he can hear the way you tease even in your half asleep state.

"every second away from you is agony, my love."

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ DILUC, alhaitham, JING YUAN, choso, NANAMI

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 RANDOMLY BITES AND HEADBUTTS YOU.

sure, there's doing something unexpected to grab your attention, but it catches you off guard every. single. time.

he has seemingly no regard for whatever it is that you're doing- you're cooking something? he sneaks up behind you, teeth sinking into your shoulder before he slinks away like it never happened.

trying to get work done? he comes up to you, using his head to poke you and offering no explanation as he walks away.

it's ... endearing, to say the least. it comes from a place of love, that's for sure. make no mistake that you like to bite him too, but he still manages to one-up you each time.

while it started off as surprising in the early days of your relationship, over time you've adapted to it, now even offering a body part for him to headbutt as a greeting.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ cyno, WRIOTHESLEY, neuvillette, BLADE, toji, HIGURUMA

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 FOLLOWS YOU AROUND AND WHINES IF YOU DON'T GIVE HIM ENOUGH ATTENTION.

"babyyyy, i'm bored."

you don't have to turn around to know that he's pouting, some grown ass man acting like a toddler in hopes that you'd pay attention to him. you can't help but roll your eyes, what with him pushing the limit between cute and aggravating for the past half an hour or so.

ever since you had invited him over and he practically let himself in, he had basically followed you from room to room, huffing and puffing as you focused on your work instead of entertaining him.

and as you finally settled in your room, at your desk, you watched out of the corner of your eye as he flopped down onto your bed, his head dangling off the edge as he scrolled through his phone half-heartedly.

and you had to admit, he looked cute like that. you bite back your smile as you see him glance up at you to see if you're looking at him before flopping back down on the bed with a huff.

you'll be done soon, then you'll give him all the attention he wants.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ CHILDE, thoma, sampo, gepard, GOJO

IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... enjoy the silence!

an introduction to your new roommate dan heng, and the guitar that he loves to play so much

HIIII so ive read your latest work "who did this to you?" and since I can't comment on anything at all so imma write it right here then.

imagine- imagine wriothesley, alhaitham and dr ratio found dying us just like in the blade's part? so basically the plot is when we are dying and the men who loathed us, are the one who found our dying-almost-dead body. i need ✨angst✨

ask and you shall receive 😌

𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐔𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐒...

...of you.

ᯓ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 .ᐟ wriothesley, alhaitham, dr ratio x gn!reader (separate).

ᯓ 𝐜𝐰 .ᐟ nonnie wanted angst, so here it is 🙏, ok so y'all know the basics: mentions of blood/death, dying thoughts and all that emo stuff, a touch of fluff, hurt [no] comfort, ew ew EW what was this 😭 im so sorry anon my writing utterly fell off here (i wrote this while sick so pls bear w me), i PROMISE y'all my fics will get better, 2k words!! a nice short read i suppose. this took it out of me bro 🫡

ᯓ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 .ᐟ this is part-two-ish to this fic. essentially—another, similar scenario with the same characters!! have an idea/suggestion? my inbox is open! don't be shy 💛

ᯓ WRIOTHESLEY .ᐟ

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐒. From you and the man standing six feet away. Only the silhouette of his tall, rugged frame was visible. His boxing gloves steamed and glowed an ice-blue in the darkness of the alleyway, and the subtle drip, drip, drip echoed across the walls, liquid trickling off his gauntlets. 

It was pretty clear what the liquid was; bodies riddled the ground, some slumped up against the walls, most sprawled in twisted, broken messes on the floor. His wide shoulders rose and fell rhythmically, laboriously. There was the scratch of a boot shifting, and he looked at you.

“…No matter what I do,” the Duke began, his face totally shadowed. You sat against the wall, drawing in deep breaths to calm your heart and the adrenaline rush, and to fight off the pain of your cracked rib. He didn’t move from his spot. “You can never keep yourself safe."

“I never asked you to do this for me,” you replied, voice weak. It hurt to breathe. “I never asked you to run to my aid. In fact, I was very sure you loathed me. If so, why didn’t you leave me to die?”

There was no response from him. Wriothesley kept still. It was so cold—the air around, traces of Cryo, the wall and ground you laid upon, and the silence. 

“…Are you hurt?” Finally, he faced you fully and slowly approached you, not answering your previous question. He made no sudden movements. “Your breathing is laboured. Where are you injured?”

“You can go now.” You held up a hand to stop him. “You’ve done your part. Thanks for wiping those guys out for me. I can get home by myself.”

Wriothesley eased to a squat before you, and his boxing gloves disappeared. His elbows rested on his knees, hands hanging limply between his thighs. “You’re coming back to the Fortress with me. Do I have to have you move in with me just so you’ll stay out of trouble?”

“Trouble that’s none of your business.” Resting your head back against the brick wall behind you, you shut your eyes loosely. “And move in with you? Please. That could only happen if we married.”

Silence. You didn’t quite have the energy to really think about the effect your words had. With what you could bother, you then added, “And that will never happen.”

The Duke didn’t say a word. Something about the detachment in your own tone pricked at your conscience and heart. Did I just make a massive mistake?

You tried not to think too much about it. The piercing pain in your side was occupying your mind, and you refused to let slip any sign that you were gravely injured to this man. It’s best if he leaves.

“Do you need to go to the hospital?” he said after a long few moments of tight silence. “I know you’re trying to act tough so I’ll go away. Well, that won’t happen."

“Dammit—you’re really frustrating, you know that?” You tried to sit up straighter, before slumping back down in defeat against the pain of your broken rib. “And—ugh—confusing. You say and act like you can’t stand the thought of even breathing the same air as I do and then you turn around and do something completely different! It’s like—it’s like you’re lying to yourself—denying something, and—”

“Who said I hated you?” He leaned closer. You still couldn’t see his face, but you could feel his eyes. “Who ever said I hated you? Look, I’ll admit that you’re not the easiest person to get along with—at least, for me. I tolerated you. I don’t anymore. I’m worried about you. That’s why I beat these thugs into a pulp for you. It’s something I would’ve done for anyone. But housing you, taking you in when you were injured and scared? Nursing you so late at night, when Sigewinne would’ve been long asleep? Do you seriously think a person who wholeheartedly hates another would do that for them?”

“There’s an old, wise saying, Wriothesley—actions speak louder than words. During all the months I’ve known you, you’ve been nothing but an asshole—”

“Well, then, I’m sorry for that. I really am. But I acted that way because you pushed my buttons. I disliked you. I never hated you. If I hated you—truly hated you—I would not be here, right now, doing my best to make sure you’re unharmed.”

“I’d like you to leave,” you managed out, eyes shut and teeth gritted against the sharp stabs of pain dealt to your side each time you inhaled and spoke. “I don’t believe you have any more reason to be here. Stop sending mixed signals.”

“I’m sending mixed signals?” The incredulity in his tone made your eyes snap open. “Or are you just…blind?” 

“I do not have the energy to deal with this right now—”

“No, you don’t—which is why I’m taking you straight to Sigewinne.” Wriothesley stood to his feet, looming above you, and he stepped to your side. “You’ve got a cracked rib, haven’t you? What, you think I didn’t notice? You thought I was just going to let you sneak away, and deal with it on your own?”

Very gently, as if you’d break at the slightest touch, the Duke wrapped his arms around you and lifted you to his chest. His cologne and scent enveloped you, and you flinched and softly squealed at the horrid bolt of pain that shot through your lungs at his actions. “Ow—ugh, careful!”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he softly apologised, lips inadvertently brushing against the crown of your head. “You’re alright. I know it hurts. Hang on for a bit, alright?”

You didn’t know where to put your hands, much less yourself. Your mind was racing, blurry, and confused. What is he doing?

Wriothesley turned and made his way out of the alleyway, stepping over the bodies littered around, carefully handling you with great attention to your injured side. The tenderness to his touch sent your thoughts spiralling. What is going on?

“Don’t fall asleep just yet, sweet girl,” he whispered. “Almost there. Thankfully, you were attacked near the Opera Epiclese’s entrance to the Fortress.”

“That’s how you got there so quick?” you breathed, trying not to cry. Wriothesley was so warm.

“Yeah. Here we are. Sigewinne’ll take care of you. Stay with me for a while.”

“Do I have to?” You wanted to.

“I’ll frame you for a crime so you’ll have a real reason to stay,” the Duke joked, and he entered the elevator. “You can have my bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“Why can’t I just sleep in the infirmary? Or in a cell? I can’t just take your bed.”

“Why? Wanna share?” Wriothesley grinned down at you. His dimples. “I won’t refuse. It’ll be nice, won’t it?”

“Damn you.” His flirtatious remarks had begun to distract you from the pain. “You’re making me hate you more.”

“I am, am I?” His voice was low, silky. “What a terrible state of affairs. I couldn’t imagine even trying to do such a thing.”

“Gods, I hate you.” You put your face in your hands to cover your flushed face.

“Sure, sweetheart.” Wriothesley was no fool. His grin widened. “Sure thing.”

ᯓ ALHAITHAM .ᐟ

“𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐓 you…” The Head Scribe’s hands held a slight tremor as he brought you into his chest. “…Always make me pick up pieces? Of you?”

You could taste blood in your mouth, and you turned your face into his shirt. Warm. “…I lost the ability to keep it all intact…long ago.”

His chest jumped and rumbled with a humourless chuckle. “That much is clear.” Alhaitham pulled you closer, burying one of his hands into your hair, pressing your face into his chest closely. He rested his cheek against the top of your head. After a long moment, he said, “…I never thought I’d spend so much time worrying about someone I supposedly hated. You…you’re always trying to die on me. Even now. Why must you?”

You were battered, beat up—there was a stab wound to your stomach he didn’t know about yet. If there was a feeling to describe the life leaking out of you, slowly but steadily, this was it. But, somehow, you didn’t mind the thought of dying while being held by this man too much. His arms were strong, warm, and the way he was holding you touched you deeply. And you had no answer for him.

Your head lifted and fell with his chest as he sighed. “I never could stand you. You’re so annoying. Like a pesky fly that won’t go away.” Alhaitham caressed your hair tenderly. “I thought that if you were out of sight, you’d be out of mind. Not so, I soon found.”

“These are pretty words to hear as I die,” you tried to joke, as if you weren’t in the fast process of actually bleeding out. “I like you too, Alhaitham.” Approaching death makes one crazy, it seems. “Never thought I’d ever say that.”

“Do you think those are your passing words?” His breath ghosted across your ear. “Do you think I’m going to let you slip away that easily?” “Weren’t you once praying on my downfall?” Your eyes were beginning to slide shut. It was cosy, dying in his arms like this. “What’s brought on such a change of heart, Head Scribe?”

No answer. Just two people, clinging to each other, breathing in sync, as one’s life bled from them. It was a tranquil quiet, this was. The quietude both you and Alhaitham enjoyed.

That was one thing you had in common. So you basked in his arms, peaceful. What a nice way to go, I guess.

“You smell nice,” you sighed into his chest, the loss of blood truly making you delirious and faint. “Like books. And spices. Warm.”

“Let’s get you to the Bimarstan.” Soft lips pressed to your hair. “There’s no point in having you dead.”

“…Maybe.” Maybe it was a bit late. “Maybe.”

ᯓ DR RATIO .ᐟ

“𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 only so much idiocy I can take, you know.”

You peeled open your eyes and two sandalled feet met your vision. Raising your head, there Veritas Ratio was—and his expression was one far from hate. His fists were clenched at his sides, trembling, as his chest heaved. His eyes were wide and desperate. “Must I kill you? To rid myself of this—of this torment? Of you?”

“Get it over with, then.” You were on the brink of death, anyway. The gunshot wounds to your shoulder and back didn’t give you much more time left. “Put me out of my misery…” Your head slumped again. “…Please.”

Dr Ratio knelt before you. “You’re dying. Dying. Oh, Aeons, what to do? You cannot die, you hear me? I won’t allow it. No, no, you mustn’t die.”

“Who cares,” you muttered. “I don’t. Can you go? I’d rather not have you nagging in my ear about idiocy and how much of a bother I am to you as I meet my maker. I want my death to be peaceful, not aggravating.”

“Why are you talking so morbidly?” Your state of mind was so foggy, you could barely sense him lifting you up. The shocks of pain from the jostling of your wounds woke you up, however—and you yelped, tears springing to your eyes. Veritas’ vermillion eyes gazed at you deeply. “I said you’re not dying, so that’s that.”

“Thought you hated my company.” Your words were almost incoherent as you panted and calmed yourself down from the horrible pain. “Thought you considered me an idiot.”

“And I still do,” he said plainly. Blue flame began to surround you both. Hold on, is he…teleporting us? Veritas did not take his eyes of you once. “However, you’re tolerable. I don’t want you to die.”

“That’s sweet of you,” was your sarcastic answer. Your head knocked against his shoulder as you laid limp. “I remember when you went on and on about how much of a ‘relief’ it’d be when I kicked the bucket. Finally. You may just get your wish yet.”

“I won’t.” His words were a whisper. “For I don’t want to. That was never a wish. Nothing of the sort.” There was a flash of deep purple, and soft hair and the floral notes of expensive shampoo flooded your senses. He had buried his face into your collar. “Oh, darling, please hold on for me. You’ll be right as rain in no time. Yes? Don’t you want that? No more pain?”

“…No more pain,” you conceded after a moment, nuzzling him. “No more pain.”

“No more pain,” Veritas weakly repeated. “I swear it.”

all rights reserved © kisstrela 2024. do not copy, repost, redistribute, translate, plagiarise or modify my work(s) in any way on any platform. thank you.

Fire and Dreams in Meropide

Summary: You have a nightmare. Wriothesley is there to pick up the pieces.

Word Count: 1174

CW/TW: fairly graphic descriptions of natural disasters, mentioned (not real) character deaths, hurt/comfort, Wriothesley calls reader duchess, nightmares, panic attacks

Wriothesley x fem!reader

A/N: For the italicized part the theme music is Erlkönig by Franz Schubert and the rest is fragile fantasy/Once-colored Memories from the Vortex of Legends Genshin Soundtrack

You run. Fire falls from a sky clogged with roiling black clouds, the miasma belching from a flickering, glowing fissure.

All around you, your neighbors and coworkers run with you, screaming, shouting.

Of course, next to you, is a beacon of calm in the chaos.

Wriothesley holds your hand, pulling you along. Both of your faces are covered, wet rags struggling to protect the delicate respiratory organs from the ash that falls like snowflakes to the burning ground. Despite that, you can see your lover’s eyes, intense and alert, but unpanicked.

The two of you hurry through the streets, ignoring the flame-licked houses you pass.

Ignoring the houses, that is until, a child’s cries come from one of the burning buildings.

Wriothesley stops in his tracks, scanning your surroundings for the voice.

When he sees the child, he tenses, glancing between you and the trapped child.

“Y--”

A tear slips down your face unbidden. “Do as you must. Just… try to come back to me.”

  Wriothesley pulls his rag down around his neck and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. No matter how you try to convince yourself otherwise, it feels like goodbye. “I’ll do my best. Wait for me at the evacuation point?”

You nod, cupping his face. “Be careful.”

You turn and continue running, feeling the chill of a cryo vision flaring to life. Several yards from your parting point you can’t help but stop and turn, only to see the love of your life disappearing into structure just moments before it collapses into burning rubble.

“Wrio. Wrio. Wriothesley!”

The sound of his name whimpered mere inches from his ear, startles Wriothesley out of a sound sleep. Without thinking he reaches for his vision and gloves, only to realize that you’re still deep asleep, eyes twitching violently behind your eyelids while tears seep from behind your eyelashes.

Wriothesley reaches for your shoulder, intending to shake you gently awake, when you scream his name and bolt upright. 

“Y/n, y/n. Y/n, please look at me.”

The warden shifts, trying to place himself in your line of sight. You curl in on yourself. “No. No. Wrio is gone. Wrio is gone. Can’t be real.”

Wriothesley groans, running a rough hand through his hair while the other sets his vision just behind him. He lets cryo energy coat his hand--not enough to be freezing, but enough to shock you into the moment--and touches your shaking fingers.

The moment Wriothesley lays his fingers on yours, his touch gentle but too cold to be anything but real, your eyes snap to his face. Your breath snags in your throat as the events of your dream speedrun through your mind, culminating in the last image of your lover’s disappearing frame. You gasp, again and again, trying but unable to force air into your lungs. 

Despite the warm bronzes of your shared room in Meropide and the metallic humidity that never seems to abate, the sensation is identical to the ash that clogged your dream-self’s throat.

“Wrio…” You rasp, pleading at him with your eyes.

“Y/n, duchess. Hold on.”

Wriothesley slides out of bed, tosses on his vision and coat, before lifting you in his arms, carrying you down the stairs to his office and setting you on a well-worn couch brought from the overworld. 

You continue to hyperventilate.

He hurries around the room, setting on the music you listened to prior to bed and starting a pot of tea. When everything is settled, he kneels in front of you.

“Y/n. Look at me.” Wriothelsey’s voice, while gentle, takes on a tone of command that you can’t ignore.

Your eyes meet his gray blue ones. Gone is the wary intensity from the dream, replaced by soft, wavering concern.

“Breathe, duchess. In, one two three. Hold it. Out, one, two, three.”

He runs you through the exercise recommended by Sigewinne many years before when his own nightmares ran him ragged, using the cool touch of his vision to center you in the moment.

Ever so slowly your breathing calms.

“Are you with me, Y/n?”

“Wrio….”

“Can you tell me what you hear, love?”

You think for a minute. “Music. We… listened to this last night.”

“Good girl. What do you feel?”

“Your hands are cold.”

“Good.”

Just then the pot starts to whistle. 

“Can I finish making tea?”

You are slow to nod, but when you do, Wrio leaves your side to finish the task. He brings back a mug of tea--fancy cups are useless in a situation like this, if you ask him--making sure your hands are steady before handing it to you and pouring one of his own.

As you take slow, careful sips, tears slip down your face and you start sobbing.

Wrio sets both cups to the side. “Can I hold you? Or do you need space.”

“Please, please. I thought you died. You did die. You left me, you left me.”

The Duke pulls you into a tight embrace, hating every shudder and desperately wishing he thought he were warm enough to give you the comfort you deserve.  “I’m here, duchess. I wouldn’t leave you.”

“But you would. If it were a child, you wouldn’t hesitate.”

“Can you start at the beginning? I can’t tell you the truth if I don’t know what I left you for.”

You stumble through the details of the dream, often pausing so Wrio can soothe re-surging panic. When you’re done, he lays his head on yours. “I would think, my lovely duchess, that I would have a plan for such an eventuality. And that you would--either bravely or foolishly--follow me in.”

“I--maybe. I don’t know. It hurt so bad. Watching the building---”

“Sshhh.”

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Wriothesley shushes you and shifts your head so your ear lays over his heart.

“Do you hear that, duchess? My heart beats and so does yours. I know it’s scary, but it was just a nightmare.”

“I know. I was still so scared.”

“And that’s ok. I’d probably be terrified if you did the same thing.”

You look up. “You would?”

“You’re my duchess, duchess. You think I’d just see you off like that?”

“You’d follow me.” The words are a statement, not a question.

“In a heartbeat.”

The two of you stay there for several long moments, the sound of his heartbeat easing the last of your tension.

It isn’t long before you yawn.

“Tired again, duchess?”

“No one sleeps well running from volcanoes,” you grumble, shifting so that you’re comfortably curled in the Duke’s lap.

“I wouldn’t think so. Do you want to go to bed?”

“Mmmm. No. Not right now.”

“If you say so.”

Despite your words, it’s not long before both of you are carried off to dreamland.

And if Sigewinne walks in and sees you curled up together and decides that the Duke and Duchess need a day off, then that’s her prerogative. You can always argue when you wake up. Until then, she wishes you sweet dreams and shuts the door tight.

Trial by Fire (Wriothesley x Reader)

A group under Dottore was doing a series of human experimentation in a facility in Fontaine. Being the Duke's finacée, (y/n) was captured by one of Wriothesley's many enemies, and sent to the facility to be an experiment subject. After her rescue, (y/n) was not the same. Battling PTSD while having no idea of what happened to her, she has a long journey of recovery ahead of her, and Wriothesley is there with her every step of the way.

Contains dark and mature themes, please DO NOT read if you're not certain you can handle the story, warnings listed below. Minors DNI.

Genre: f!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, a bit of mystery, action, more angst

TW/CW (will add as I go): first draft (will probably stay that way), very dark themes, angst, torture, blood, cpr, wishing for death, panic attacks, ptsd, human experimentation, implied s3xual abuse, verbal abuse, physical abuse, hyperventilation, hospitals, rehabilitation, vomitting, back and forth timeline, mentions of r@pe, pregnancy, ab0rtion, emotional and physical trauma

Updates: Completed!

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters aside from (y/n). This story is 100000% fictional, any similarities to real life people or incidents are purely coincidental. After reading the TW/CW, please DO NOT read if you think you can't handle the story.

Minors DNI

Masterlist:

01 - Make It Out Alive

02 - What's Real?

03 - More Questions than Answers

04 - Investigation Continues

05 - Divulgence

06 - Embrace

07 - Decrescendo

08 - Epilogue

09 - Originally Planned Plot (Bonus)

Stiff Joints - Wriothesley x gn! Reader

Summary -> Some mornings are harder than others. (Established relationship)

Warnings -> Slightly suggestive towards the end

A/N -> 850 words, not proofread and self indulgent because I am also having a bad hand day.

**********

Early. Too goddam early to be awake. The sun wouldn’t even be fluttering in the curtains if you could see the damn sun from the bottom of the ocean. The bed around you was too cold, too uncomfortable, too… empty.

“Wrio?” You muttered, sitting up despite the protest of your back. Your boyfriend was nowhere to be found. Your eyes scanned the dark room until you saw the light underneath the bathroom door. “Wriothesley?” You ask again as you slip out of bed, the metal floor of the Fortress of Meropide cold underneath your feet. You approached the bathroom door only to hear the clattering of something in the sink, followed by the frustrated growl of the man behind the door. “I’m coming in.” You don’t give him a chance to protest as you open the door, only to be greeted by the sight of the man hunched over the sink, wearing only a black t shirt, boxers, and a face full of shaving cream.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up, sweetheart.” He grumbled, not wanting to take his frustrations out on you as he reached for the razor in the sink. 

You stepped close, placing a hand on his back. “Don’t apologize. Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He clawed at the shaving cream on his face, wiping it off, frustrated. “It’s nothing” “Wriothesley.” “It’s nothing.” “Wriothesley” “I said-” He turned to look at you, seeing that worried, and tired look on your face. All the negative emotions dissipate immediately. “You want the truth?”

“I’d greatly prefer it, yeah.” He put the razor down on the edge of the sink. “I’ve been fighting my entire life. Boxing with both gloves and bare knuckles.” “I’ve known this, and yet I still sleep in your bed every night. Is this you thinking you’re too dangerous for me again? We’ve been through this. You know I’ll always love you.” You point out, too early to have your normal patience you grant him, instead offering him rather blunt compassion.

Wriothesley sighed, looking into the mirror. “I’ve all but destroyed my hands. It’s why I wear wraps every day. They hurt, my fingers don’t move right, and some mornings I can’t even grip the damn razor and get this stubble off of my face.”

“Is that it?” “Seems a bit dismissive.” He sighs and looks over at you, hurt in his eyes.

You hesitate, noticing he is in a much more vulnerable position than you’re used to seeing him. “I don’t mean that in a dismissive way, my dear. I just mean it’s something I can help with.” He clenches his still foam shaven jaw. “What could you possibly do to help my broken hands?” “Be your hands for you.” You respond, gently taking the razor from his hand, thankful he didn't make a snarky comment at the cheesy words. You hop up on the bathroom counter, grabbing a washcloth and running it under warm water. 

“My dear you don’t have to.” He responds, swallowing the lump in his throat, trying to hold back his emotions. 

You respond by placing a hand on the back of his neck, guiding him to lean forward, his towering frame shrinking down to reach your waiting hand, the razor running gently across his jaw, taking care of the stubble he found so annoying. “I know I don’t have to. I want to.” You guide his face to look to one side, shaving one side of his jaw and down his neck, his icy eyes locked on yours, an unreadable expression on his face. 

“Thank you.” He whispered, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Thank you so much.” “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” You ask as you run the warm washcloth on his freshly shaven jaw. 

He scoffs and doesn’t resist looking the other direction, letting you shave the other side of his face. “What? That my fingers don’t work?” “I mean they were working just fine last night.” You watch as he bites back a smirk, but he couldn't resist it for too long. “There’s that handsome smile.” “You’re the worst, you know… I have a reputation you know.” His eyes soften impossibly further as you finish shaving his jaw and his neck for him. He doesn't hesitate to rest his forehead on yours. “I didn’t want to worry you.” He says softly, answering your question.

“What a silly thing to hide from me you stupid man.” You chuckle and place a kiss on his lips. “What helps your hands the most, hm?”

His lips chase after yours before he lets out a huff. “Heat. Ironic giving the cryo vision.” “Mmm what kind of heat?” You ask with a low voice, your lips still hovering near his, him taking a deep breath between his teeth. 

“That kind works perfectly” He bent down and captured your lips again, his arms wrapping around your waist, he went to pull you off the counter, but stopped when you broke the kiss, placing your hand on his chest.

“Absolutely not. Your hands hurt. Let me take care of you this morning.” You chuckle and hop off the counter, grabbing the collar of his shirt, tugging him out of the bathroom and towards the bed, and of course, he follows without hesitation.

“Of course~”

**********

© uvuyai 2024. . . ~ ღ

𝓛𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝑴𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝑾𝒐𝒍𝒇

–tw. Fem reader, size difference, sub!wolf!reader x dom!bunnie!boy, breeding, bratty reader, doggy style to prone bone, overstimulation, hybrid au, kabedoning, tail tugging, eating outz from behind, creampies, brat taming, enemies to lovers, dub-con(???), teasing, mindbreak, masturbation, mention of heats, public sex in a storage room, blowjob,

ღ ~ You never liked this bunny boy that's just roaming around thinking he's the shit. You were pretty sure he's tired of you aswell. Always in his face saying that you could easily break him down, he doesn't take you seriously by your height and just smirks which ticks you off even more.

You always find a way to tease him. Either by tugging on his tail or ears, or sitting on his lap when he's studying or reading, grinding down to get a reaction from him. He doesn't have a popular fanbase so you won't have to worry about girls getting jealous or flocking over him.

He's very quiet too. You've done things to him that would've surely made him whine or moan. You know you can overpower this big guy. But, why isn't he getting affected by any of your methods? You almost want to cry. But you won't show it.

Outside of the building, you hold his arm as if you were his girlfriend. Wrapping your tail around his leg as you follow him to a café or even his home. He doesn't care what you do. You look adorable looking around in his home. He'll even be willing to let you stay a night or two. Even let's you wear his shirts which are really oversized since it hangs low past your knees. You were left with just his shirt, your panties, and thigh highs.

He let you sleep on his bed and he takes the sofa. As you let some time pass, you took a hold of his pillows and hugged it with your arms and legs as if it was a real person you were cuddling. You grind your cunt onto the pillow, your juices seeping onto the cotton filled thing from your panties. You'll just give an excuse saying that you drool a lot. You inhaled the scent that lingered on the pillow and sheets, making your cunt stickier with slick.

You grinded down harder onto the pillow but you grew frustrated with the outcome of not reaching your high. You sat up and pushed your panties to the side. Your underwear was so sticky that slick stuck to it when you pushed it to the side. Your nimble fingers toyed with your clit and pushed some fingers into your cunt. You let out low whimpers and moans so as not to wake him up. You closed your eyes, deep into pleasure as you were reaching your high. Your hands reached that spot you longed to touch for so long, you squirted onto the sheets and on your hands.

You let out a few squeaks and breathy moans before realizing you wet his sheets. You fixed yourself up and wiped the sweat that was dripping down your temples. You ran to his closet and rummaged through them to find another clean sheet. You found one and replaced the one. You threw the other one in the far back of the closet and went to sleep. You hoped you didn't wake him.

Oh but you did wake him. He was just reading when he heard breathy whimpers coming from his room. He crept to the slightly cracked bedroom door and spied on you as you continued your act. He felt blood rushing to his cock and to his surprise he was hard. He palmed himself before taking out his thick and girthy cock out. The tip had a pearl of precum drool from the slit. His hand strokes the base as he continued to pump at the sight of you.

Soon he came in sync with you. His cum falling on the floor. He went to the bathroom and grabbed a towel to wipe it up and threw it in the dirty hamper. He went back to the sofa and went to sleep.

The next day was a weekend. You woke up to see him making breakfast. You tapped his shoulder, saying that you'll need a ride home. He nodded and told you that he had an extra toothbrush in the bathroom if you needed one. You both ate and reluctantly complimented his food while feeling hot in the face with a pout. He chuckled silently.

You brush your teeth with the extra toothbrush and put your work clothes back on, you tie your blazer around your waist and grab your essentials to go wait in the car like he told you.

The whole car ride to your place was very quiet, except you told him which direction to go. You arrived outside of your apartment complex and it was time for you to go. You leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek and left the car. You noticed he didn't leave afterwards and noticed he was looking at you so you blew him a kiss and waved him off. He shyly waved and drove off.

Monday soon came rolling by and you were back to your normal self. The teasing was getting on his nerves today not because he was tired of you, no. He was surprised you didn't kneel at his feet, begging him to take you.

Throughout the week, you were slowing down your teasing and talked to the other employees. On a late Friday, you and him were told to work late hours. The boss gave him the keys as he trusts him to lock up the place. You both were at the end of your shift and you just wanted to get home and relax in a nice shower. He ran off somewhere maybe to the bathroom but you saw he was done.

You yawned and rubbed your eyes and you were finishing up the printing and typing. You took a sticky note and wrote I'm done so I'm taking your keys to your car to wait inside. You packed up your things and took the elevator down.

You tiredly walked to the entrance but your arm got pulled into a storage room. You screamed but the person used their hand to cover your mouth. You ears went flat on your head as your tail fluffed up in fear.

A light turned on and you saw him. Your ears perked up and your tail felt the urge to wag. “E-eh? Why did you drag me here?!” you yelled but he did nothing but glare down at you which made you feel really small. “You been nothing but a brat, little miss wolf.” he crosses his arms as he glares at you more intently.

He started walking towards you and you back away slowly as if YOU were the bunny in this situation. You hugged your tail, hoping he wouldn't hurt you. You saw his shadow hovering over you. You peered up and saw him with his hand placed above your head. “I know what you did in my bed, little wolf.” you looked at him as if he was crazy but your eyes widened as the thought came back to you. “I-I can explain y'kn-” “There's no need for it.” and with that he swiftly lifted your woke skirt up, revealing your drenched panties and slick thighs.

You gasped and tried to cover it but he took your wrists into his hands and pinned them to the wall. “Don't try to cover up now since you didn't think about it while fingering yourself in my bed,” your ears went flat and you felt your face go hot and meekly apologized.

“Get on your knees.” you were about to ask him why but met his sharp gaze and it said otherwise. You got on your knees and waited for something to happen. His hand reached the zipper of his pants and unzipped it. He pushed his underwear down to reveal his thick, long, and girthy dick. It nearly smacked you in the face but you backed up, you gave his dick a scared look of terror. How could he, a bunny, have such a big thing like that?

He nudged his cock to your lips and you gave it a kitty lick. You let your lips engulf the tip of his dick and slide your tongue on the underside. You inched his cock further down your throat but your tongue could barely lick the underside. Your head moved faster with the motion to grant him his release. Breathy moans came from above you as you didn't notice his hand itching its way to the back of your head. His palm grasped your head to push you down further on his cock, you nose touching his pubic area as he blew his load in your throat.

You tried to move away but his hand kept you there as cum kept pumping from his dick. Some were already leaving your mouth even though you hadn't moved away. Some cum dropped on the floor and some landed on your face.

He finally released your head and you coughed when, trying to catch your breath. You noticed he undressed himself from his blazer and dress shirt and placed it on the ground in a neat way. “On all fours, now.” he pointed at the clothes and you shyly moved the clothes, positioning yourself on all fours. His hands moved all over your body to undress you fully. He only left you in your thigh highs as he thought it was cute to see your legs thrashing with the tight material squeezing at your thighs.

His hands grab at your thighs and move himself to your sticky and dripping pussy.”Pleasepleaseplease. . .” you begged. He dove his tongue in your cunt, your juices hitting his tongue. Your eyes widened as your thighs started to shake and tremble. He flattened his tongue on your cunt which made you get closer on the edge as he thrust his tongue in and out your pussy. His tongue thrust into that spot that made you squirt on his face. Your arms collapsed under you and your ass was now in the air.

You were embarrassed how you wet his face. Your ears and tail drooped and he noticed but just gave pats to your head. You snuggled your head up into his head and didn't notice how his cock head was basically breathing on your pussy.

He thrusted in while gripping your waist. Your hands clawed at the clothes beneath you that were protecting you from bruising your hands and knees. You mewled as he hit right on the spot, making you gush all over his dick. Your pussy was slightly struggling to take him fully in. Just pushing your pussy past its limit was a life achievement for him. He pulled at your tail so you can meet with his thrusts. You whined and yelped due to how sensitive your tail was.

Your tongue was sticking out your mouth in the most lewd fashion. You tried to crawl away but he grabbed your arms and pulled them behind you to further thrust into your pussy. You dove your face into the clothes beneath you and bit them between your teeth to muffle your high pitched moans and whines. His cock aimed at your cervix so much it made you feel dizzy. He could see the stars swirling above your head and your hazy eyes.

He leaned closer and started peppering soft kisses on your face. You were the smallest thing he's ever seen that even when he leaned forward you were still in the doggy position. He bit at your fluffy ears and moved his hand down to play with your clit. As he kept thrusting at your womb, he noticed your stomach kept stretching outward. He moved his hand up and felt his cock punch at your cervix which showed on your stomach. He stopped thrusting which made you look back. “I-is something wro- OOmph!” his wild thrust back into made you get pinned to the floor. His shadow hovered over you as he pinned both his arms beside you.

You whined as the mushroom tip dove back into your cervix. If he went hard enough, he would burst through. Your legs thrashed behind you as he kept hitting the spots that you loved deep inside. Your tongue stuck out your mouth with some saliva sticking on your tongue and some drooling from your chin. His finge pinched at your tongue which made you grimace and struggle to put it back in your mouth. Your breathing got heavy and started to squirm. You pushed your hips back with all your strength to meet his thrusts. You squirted onto his dick, some splashing on his pubic area.

A few more thrusts into you and he came inside you. He creamed deep inside your womb that it made your stomach bloat which he was proud of.

Your body collapsed to the ground as you were finally tired. He got up and looked at your form. Sweat glistening on your skin, the white substance leaking from your bruised hole, and your trembling body. He grabbed you by your waist and cradled you in his arms. He grabbed his and your clothes and left the storage room to finally go home and lock up the place.

The dommy bunny boi :3 /Blade, Jing Yuan, Dr. Ratio, Aventurine, Gallagher, Boothill, Sampo, Welt, Pierro, Capitano, Pantalone, Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Alhaitham, Choso, Toji, Gojo, Nanami, AND OTHER CHARACTERS THAT FIT!!

ღ ~ DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, COPY, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY POST W/O PERMISSION. DO NOT COPY MY LAYOUT. YOU MAY TAKE INSPIRATION BUT MAKE SURE TO CREDIT ME.

[ I hate writing dialogue 😭]

Men who appreciate when you wrap your arms around their shoulders as they lean their head against your stomach, their arms tightly wrapped around your waist. Your fingers weave through their hair strands, nails gently scratching their scalp. No words need to be spoken between you two to bring him comfort besides your warm, caring touch. You don't mind how long he wishes to stay in that position. No matter how tired your legs get from standing in one place for a long amount of time. All you care about is showing your partner comfort after such a long and stressful day. And he's grateful for the sweet gesture. It allows him a moment of peacefulness and relief as his shoulders finally relax. Your warm, gentle ministrations helping ease the tension in his body and mind. Sometimes, his mind wanders from thoughts of his daily stress to thoughts of how lucky he feels to call you his and how blessed he is to have you, this wonderful, beautiful, compassionate being in his life. He believes nothing and no one can compare to you, his loving partner, who does everything they can to ensure he's taken care of and loved, no matter his faults. You love every part of him, both the good and the bad, as does he with you. While lost in his deep thoughts of you, he can't help but notice the tightness in his chest, the sting in the back of his eyes, and the heaviness in his lungs making it slightly difficult to breathe. His thoughts and deep emotions overwhelm him, causing his muscles to once again tense up and his body to slightly shake, which doesn't go unnoticed by you. You softly hush him, pulling him closer to you as you whisper comforting words to him. His hold tightens more for fear of losing your touch during this vulnerable moment, which he only shows to you. As his emotions begin to calm as he basks in your care, his voice is small and raspy as words of appreciation slip from between his lips, once again not unnoticed by you. You only reply with a delicate kiss on the top of his head.

No matter how small it may seem, this simple gesture means so much to them.

Wriothesley, Diluc, Gallagher, Sunday, Boothill, Aventurine, Ayato Kamisato, Neuvilette, Jiyan, Calcharo, Jing Yuan, Xiao, Zhongli, Gepard, Imbibitor Lunae, + any of your favs

he misses those afternoon tea time dates with you [wriothesley x reader]

summary: wrio misses you a lot

genre: angst, no comfort (no prns)

a/n: holy shit i'm in love with this man. time to write an angsty fanfic about him

three thirty used to be wriothesley’s favourite time of the day.

he remembers when the clock in his office signalled that time, he would clean up his desk, boil up fresh water in his teapot, and head over to his shelves when he kept his (well above-average than the normal person’s) collection of tea, wondering one question:

what tea would you prefer today? would you want the same as yesterday? would you want something sweeter? or on the bitter side? herbal taste maybe? he was all the more eager to take suggestions for different blends you wanted to try. did café lucerne have a new tea you’d liked? he’d make his way down (or well, up in this case) to the court of fontaine and ask arouet about the new blend he added to the menu. the rainbow roses you came across were some of the best smelling ones you’ve ever smelt? surely they would make a perfect tea blend (unless you wanted the flowers yourself - he’d have no problem getting them for you) or how you had mentioned you had gotten a book all about inazuman culture and one of the sections mentioned a blend in a teahouse located in inazuma city that you thought sounded good. okay, that was a bit harder to obtain, but he was determined to get his hands on a box of that tea you wanted, so much so that he ended up making a request to send a box over from inazuma, along with a very hefty price to compensate for the delivery.

(wriothesley never minded what you picked. after all, your day-to-day afternoon tea sessions made the tea he drank taste so much better - and gave him a push that made working through his copious amounts of paperwork a lot more bearable.)

and then - like it was before - five minutes later, when he was still pondering the tea choice, you would give your signature knock on his office door. knock… wait 3 seconds, knock, knock, knock. letting out a soft chuckle, ‘come in’ he would say. hearing the door open and footsteps making their way up the stairs with a rustling of a bag that - if he had to make a guess - had a batch of conch madeleines you brought to enjoy with the tea. 

(he recalls the few times you have brought some foreign treats from merchandents that were from different nations who had been touring around fontaine. from mondstadt you had brought tea-break pancakes and well… he couldn’t lie to you, they really did not taste any different from the ones he had before. but hey, it’s not like pancakes were incorporated into his daily diet, might as well enjoy them as a one-off treat.

and in his opinion, the charcoal-baked ajilenakh cake that you got from that sumeru merchant was actually pretty good and he did not understand what the iudex was talking about when he had heard him express his distaste towards the pastry.

the sakura shrimp crackers however were… quite the odd choice. not that they tasted bad or anything, but combining the salty snack with the chamomile tea you both had that day made for a… unique flavour. 

‘hm, interesting combo you wanted to try out.’

‘shit, i should’ve of gotten the tricoloured dango instead…’

but his favourite of the goodies you brought to him had to have been the ones you've baked yourself and archons, he wished he had the chance to taste them again.)

‘you know you don’t gotta knock. i know it’s you.’

‘oh yeah? well what if one day i stop knocking on the door? how will you know when i’m coming to visit?’

oh, he wishes that you haven’t said that. maybe it was foreshadowing this current situation. he’ll never know. it’s not like he’ll get the chance to ever ask you again. 

he misses those afternoons spent together. he misses hearing about your day. he misses your voice. he misses your face. he misses you.

(and while arout couldn’t give him the entire recipe to the new addition to his menu, he atleast gave the duke some pointers on how to make the tea have a similar taste to his new addition.

the petals of the rainbow rose made the tea pink, with slight yellow and blue flecks swirling around inside the water. the fragrance had been just as lovely as you described.

that tea blend from inazuma? it’s left unopened, hidden in the very back of his tea collection.  he can’t bring himself to try it all alone.)

the clock in his office no longer signals three thirty. there are no more knocks on his door five minutes after the alarm sets off. he no longer has to boil a fresh batch of water and think about what you would like to drink today.

you’re gone. you’re not coming back. and wriothesley sits alone in his office wondering about what tea blend you would of wanted to try with him today.

++ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

[summary] wrio’s spouse winds up in prison. special treatment ensues.

[cws] gender neutral reader. fluff.

“What you did was incredibly stupid.”

“I’d like to think it was very brave, actually.” You quip back, lips pursed as you turn up your chin. “You should be proud of me, really.”

“I should be proud that you got yourself thrown in prison?” You don’t have to look up to know that Wriothesley is sporting an incredulous expression. “Did they knock your head around a bit before bringing you down here?”

“You’re acting like I murdered someone.” You finally meet his gaze, and you resist the urge to sink down into your seat at the clear disapproval in his eyes. “All I did was—”

“Break into the Opera Epiclese and destroy government property.”

“That’s such a trumped-up charge!” You huff and roughly cross your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing as you think back on the charges that had been slapped down onto you by that damned archon. “You trip in the dark and accidentally fall into the oratrice and all of a sudden you’re a criminal. Hmph!”

“Yeah, exactly. It also doesn’t help that you broke in—”

“—I left my bracelet in there after the trial! Was I just supposed to leave it behind and potentially lose it forever? The condition of the lost and found in that place is downright terrible—the guards pocket all the good stuff.”

“You could have bought another one.”

“Not like this one.” You look down to the gray bracelet encircling your wrist, and a warmth spreads in your chest as you gently twist it around, finger rubbing over the messily written engraving on the inside of it. “This was a gift.”

“Hardly.” He sighs, and your eyes flick up to watch as he runs his hands through his already messy hair. “It’s just scrap metal I bent up and welded because I couldn’t buy you proper jewelry back when I was a prisoner.” It’s his turn to look at the bracelet.

“You were so creative back then.” You smile a bit wider. “I remember you used to have something new made every time I came to visit you. What was that one thing you made? The one that we painted together?”

“The ballerina music box.” He groaned, looking a bit embarrassed, and you snapped your fingers.

“The ballerina music box!” The ballerina was a bit oddly shaped, and the box had sharp corners on one side and rounded on the other, and the song the box played was distorted and sounded more creepy than relaxing due to some disfigured cogs, but you loved it nonetheless, and had even sobbed in thanks when he had first presented the gift to you. “I love that little box.”

“It looks like a child made it.”

“A child in the throes of eleazar, yes,” you nod, and his mouth opens a bit in surprise before he huffs out a laugh. “But I still love it… because you made it.” You give him a sweet smile, and you can see him soften up before your very own eyes; broad shoulders losing that rigidness, lids lowering, crease between his dark, thick brows disappearing.

“You’re tryin’ to butter me up.”

“Mhm,” you nod. “Is it working?”

“Not at all, jailbird.” He gives you a smile of his own, and despite the clear sarcasm in it, you can’t help the little flutter your heart does at the sight. “No special treatment for you.” So he says, yet he had placed a cup of tea down for you the moment you were brought to his office, and had even tried to inconspicuously nudge the basket of cookies in your direction, pretending not to notice when you reached for one. “Spouse or not.”

“What a mean man.” You slouch down in your seat. “I treasure the gifts that my lovely, amazing, strong, handsome, and so so so incredibly smart husband gives me and what do I get in return? A criminal record and unfair treatment! I’m suing the entire nation the moment I’m free!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves his hand in the air as if fanning away the conversation, and now it’s your turn to huff. “For the few days that you’re here, you’ll be working directly with me in exchange for coupons.” He takes a slow sip of his tea, adams apple bobbing as he swallows, before gently setting the cup back down onto its small plate. “I’ll make your first job real easy to get you in the swing of things.”

“How kind of you.”

He just barely contains an amused smile. “Very. Now…” He shifts in his seat. “Give me a kiss.”

“I’m married, Your Grace.”

“I’m sure your husband won’t mind. Kiss. Now.” He taps a finger against his lips, and after a moment you stand up and round his desk, hands finding his shoulders as you bend at the waist so your noses brush.

“My husband is a very good fighter, by the way. When he finds out you twisted his spouses’s arm like this, he’ll pummel you.”

“I can handle him.” A hand snags you by the waist, forcing you down into his lap, and you only have time to let out a quiet yelp before Wriothesley’s lips are on yours. The kiss is slow, sensual, and it brings a warmth to your cheeks and covers you with a bashful cloak when he pulls back to let his eyes roam over your face. “I’ve gotta say… your husband is a real lucky guy to snatch up someone as cute as you.”

“Hmph. Seems like you’re trying to butter me up now.”

“Is it working?” He presses his face into your neck, his lips pulling into a smile against your skin, and you have to fight back one of your own.

“Not at all, jailbird.”

hugs and kisses ♡

summary: wrio comforts you

genre: comfort (no prns)

a/n: tried doing a 15 min writing challenge (i took longer than 15 mins) with this random prompt.

"i would appreciate it if you would kiss me right now."

“… oh?”

a straightforward question. there was no harm in asking him for a kiss, (he’d do that any day of the week!), but judging by the gloomy expression on your face, he could tell something was bothering you.

“c’mere.” wriothesley says gently, beckoning you over to sit next to him on the plush red sofa. scurrying on over, you sat beside him, letting wriothesley wrap one arm around your waist pulling you onto his lap and the other one placing his hand against your cheek. you lean in and close your eyes, placing your hands against his chest

his lips were soft against your own. you swear you were able to taste a faint flavour of honey - he must have had a cup of tea before you arrived. his grip around your waist tightened firmly, holding you in place. once breaking apart, you open your eyes to see wriothesley smiling down at you. you move your hands to wrap around his torso instead, resting the side of your face against his chest. 

“what made you upset, sweetheart?” wriothesley brings his hand up to caresses your hair

“i’m just.. having a rough day.” your voice came out muffled.

“do you wanna talk about it?”

“… not right now. sorry.”

he gets it. he’s not going to push further if you’re not comfortable talking about it. he knows you’ll come around when you’re ready to speak. wriothesley placed his head against yours.

“that’s fine. there’s no need to apologise love.” 

and he’ll help you through whatever you're going through. and he’ll give you as many hugs and kisses as you wish for.