#wriothesley drabble

[koenigami]

lose myself. tags : suggestive, smut?, fem!reader, wolf!wriothesley, rut, mentions of suppressants wc : 1,7k synopsis : when his agony becomes too unbearable, neither you nor him are able to control yourselves masterlist

-

The air is thick in the Fortress. Everyone has already been warned to refrain from approaching the corridor in which the Duke’s chamber was situated, let alone seek the warden himself out. Of course, no one in their right mind would even dare to do so, as everyone who resided within the fortress was well aware of this very specific yearly occurrence. 

Yet, as your careful steps echoed through the vacant hallway, it was obvious that your mind was far from its right place. The cutlery and porcelain clinked on the tray in your hands, yet the sound was akin to a whisper compared to the low grunts and painful moans that you could already hear from afar. The rattling of chains and cuffs got louder the closer you stepped to the thick steel doors. 

Trying to swallow past the thick lump in your throat, you breathed. In and out, several times, before you exhaled deeply one last time and dared to push through the doors. 

It was dark. You could barely see in front of you if it weren’t for the light from the hallway slipping inside through the crack of the door. And then you saw him. 

A sliver of blue caught your eyes and made you briefly freeze in place, letting your sight adjust to the barely illuminated room.

He was sitting on his bed, one leg lazily stretched out on the mattress while the other was pulled up towards his chest. The next thing that caught your eye were obviously the chains that were attached to the wall behind him and clinked with each miniscule movement that he made. With his cuffed hands in his lap, Wriothesley slowly lifted his head, ragged breaths turning quiet for mere seconds.

It seemed as if he had only now taken notice of your presence, which was nothing less than concerning as this man’s senses were always heightened. Always the first to hear someone approaching, and the best at recognising people solely by their smell. 

“So sweet.” He had once whispered, lips brushing against your ear as he approached you in the cantine. “Could smell you all the way to my office, my love.”

Once you deemed yourself ready, you eventually dared to round the bed and set the tray down on his nightstand. Too many pills, suppressants, littered its surface, and your breath hitched when you took note of the deep claw-like scratches along the wooden piece of furniture. 

“What are you-” He cleared his throat. “What are you doing here? Who let you in?”

“I let myself in.” You explained matter-of-factly, trying to keep your voice steady and controlled, pretending that you weren’t perturbed by his current state. “This is my bedroom too in case you forgot.” 

Usually, Wriothesley’s deep timber laugh would make your stomach flutter, your own lips curve into a sweet content smile. But something about it seemed darker this time, almost intimidating. It made your heartbeat climb up to your throat, and your palms sweat and twitch uncontrollably. “How many times do I have to tell you?” 

His head limply fell back on the headboard, his naked throat and torso on full display and glistening with light traces of sweat in the dimly lit room. With deep laboured breaths, his chest heaved and you could see how flushed the scarred skin was. “I don’t want you near me when I’m like this.”

The next smartass remark was already on your tongue until you noticed the reddened flesh along his wrists. You wondered how hard he must have been pulling on his restraints for his skin to look so raw. 

The bed creaked beneath your weight as you joined him, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress just so you could inspect his wounds better. With a feather light touch, you let the pads of your fingers trail over his wrists, your movements halting at each hitch and deep exhale of his breath.

He must be in so much pain, you thought. Nonetheless, as you were sitting here in front of him, he gave his all to keep his composure since he was well aware that you worried. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” You gulped and looked up at him, taking in his dishevelled state. From the sweaty strands of hair falling over his eyes, to the dark circles underneath his eyes, everything about him screamed agony. 

“Y/n.” He gritted through his teeth, the sharp white canines glinting underneath the muzzle. “Go. Away.”

With an annoyed groan, he forcefully banged his head back against the headboard when you ignored his words and instead reached for the glass of water on the tray. With the cold glass in one hand, and the end of the straw in the other, you carefully guided it through an opening of the wired muzzle and nudged his lips with it. “Come on, you must be thirsty.” 

Surprised but also relieved, you sighed when he complied and started sucking on the end of the straw. With two, three hard sucks, the glass was almost empty when he guzzled and had to pull back and cough a few times. “Slow down.” You instructed gently.

“Argh- Shit!” The handcuff jingled when he suddenly moaned, his forehead scrunching as he squeezed his eyes shut. Quickly, you set the glass aside yet all you could do was watch his body turn rigid, the muscles beneath his hot skin tensing as another gruesome wave of pain washed over him. 

Almost instinctively, your hands reached out towards him to feel him, calm him, comfort him-

But in that same instant your world was turned upside down and it took you a while to realise that Wriothesley had pinned you beneath him. His restrained hands briefly brushed along the top of your head as his elbows dug into the mattress, the man shakily hovering above you and breathing so heavily you could feel each warm exhale on your face. 

“Darling, you have to go.” He stressed again, though this time you could discern something different besides annoyance in his voice. Desperation. However, you weren’t sure whether he was desperate to save you from himself or to keep you here with him. 

Your eyes stung when a broken whine escaped him as your hand grazed the base of his ears. You watched them twitch several times with each touch of yours before they flattened on his head, his breath hitching when his body tensed up again. “Wri’, let me help you. Please.” 

Slowly, as if fearing to scare away a wild wounded animal, your palm trailed down his chest. “Don’t.” The hoarse whisper sent a rush through your body. His heart was beating so fast. Your hand trailed furtner down to his abs. “Darling.” He warned, while he was still as tense as ever, but his words did not match his body language as he didn’t shy away. Until your fingertips slid along the waistband of his pants, until you could feel the thick clothed bulge. Fuck, he was so hard- 

“Oh, fucking hell- Stop.” He shouted, probably loud enough for whoever was lingering down the hall to hear him. Yet you didn’t so much as blink or twitch a finger in response. 

Instead, he watched as your hands gently settled on each side of his face, and he knew what you were going to do. Wriothesley’s hands tightened into fists, the thick cold material of the cuffs digging further into his skin, though all he could feel right now was your body beneath his. How warm and soft you felt, how good you smelled, how beautiful you looked.

With a soft “click”, the muzzle loosened and fell from his face before you discarded it and haphazardly threw it somewhere to the side.

Bites and indents of his teeth could be clearly seen along his lower lip from all the times he must have bitten down on it. You tenderly cupped his cheek, and watched his nostrils flare as your thumb traced his marred mouth. 

Wriothesley swore he could feel his dick twitch solely at the soft gasp you let out when he parted his lips, and his wet tongue tasted the digit. With a deep hum, he closed his eyes and started sucking on your thumb, the tip of his tongue ever so often tickling your skin until he pulled back with a wet pop. 

“Wriothesley. Come on.” Your entire body was shaking at this point with anticipation. “Let me take care of you. I know you won’t hurt me.” At least not more than you could handle.

He huffed but could not control himself from leaning down to press his nose against your neck. How he was able to refrain himself from sinking his teeth into your neck and littering it with bites and hickeys, he didn’t know himself. “How do you know?” 

“I just know.” It was a weak whisper, yet carried so much more weight with the way you were looking at him. Eyes so full of life, so full of tenderness, so full of love. Love for him. 

Times and times he had wondered how you could do something like that. Love him, that is. But over and over, again and again, you had proved that some things simply did not need an explanation. Some things were given like the blue in the sky, or the constant change of seasons. Nobody questioned them. And so you had also made it clear to him to not ever allow himself to question your feelings for him. 

When the bed creaked again, and Wriothesley witnessed you lift your hips up to slip your garments down, that oh-so-sweet scent invaded his senses, and you could see how the last ounce of his resolve crumbled. His ears twitched as he watched you unbutton his pants and tug the zipper down, so damn slowly. And before you had even a chance to wrap your hand around him, he was already bucking his hips into your palm, his chest and neck all flushed.

“Fuck, fuck. Fine, but I’ll keep the handcuffs on.” He rasped, but grinned wickedly when he heard you whimper once his teeth found their way in your soft flesh.

[i23kazu]

wriothesley, who catches a glimpse of your sleep-filled gaze as you wake up, the cry of dawn calling your soul awake once again.

its sweet and he can’t help but tuck a stray strand of hair away from your face — and your face, oh, your face.

he catches a glimpse of it, pleasantly surprised with how restful you look. the worry lines are disappearing and the creases you complain about have smoothened out, with the help of a good night of sleep. he’s at peace knowing that you’re at peace.

how long as it been since he’s seen the shine of unbridled joy in your eyes?

“hm… good morning,” you blink, turning to smile up at him. a sweet kiss is pressed to his cheek — he wants to yell with how beautiful you look fresh out of bed — and you settle back onto his chest once more.

“good morning to you too, sweetheart.”

[anime-in-new-albion]

I Just Love to Look at Him ~ Wriothesley

Summary: You are expected to marry before you become Queen. Your mother and closest friends are helping you find a suitor. It doesn't take you long to find a Mr Right...

Pairing: Wriothesley X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff Drabble

Word Count: 793

Warning: N/A

Masterlist

A/N: Inspired by the Princess Diaries 2 scene.

You knew ever since you were young that one day you’d have to marry if you ever wanted to be Queen. And now that you were finally of age and eligible for the throne, an arranged marriage was in order. You weren’t terribly fond of the idea, but you weren’t afforded much of a choice. Nevertheless, you were at least allowed the opportunity to pick who you married.

It was your mother, the Queen’s, idea to have her secretary, Charlotte, compile all the potential suitors into a presentation. You invited your best friend, Navia, to be there, as you believed her opinion was just as valid as anyone else's. So in the theater with you to pick out your future spouse was your mother, Charlotte, Navia, and the Head of Security, Clorinde.

“Baron Tartaglia,” Charlotte began. “Resident of Snezhnaya. His hobbies include hunting, fighting, and spending time with family.”

Your mother shook her head. “No, not appropriate. He’s a compulsive gambler.”

The slide changed. Before his name was even announced, you gasped. “Yes! Oh yes! I absolutely accept!”

Charlotte chuckled as she read the slide. “Prince Al Haitham. Resident of Sumeru. His hobbies include reading and sleeping.”

“He’s not eligible because he’s in line for his own throne.” Your mother stated.

“Oh.” You couldn’t help but pout. You hoped he wasn’t the only perfect guy in the mix that Charlotte and your mother put together.

Clorinde finally spoke up from her spot leaning against the wall. “If he’s not eligible, why is he included in the line up?”

Charlotte sighed. “I just love to look at him.”

“Me too.” Your mother mumbled.

“Your Majesty.” Clorinde chuckled more to herself, though you could still hear. You chuckled to yourself. Let it be said that under her no nonsense exterior, Clorinde definitely could joke and play around when she wanted to.

“Next.” The slide changed again. “Kaveh. Also a resident of Sumeru. His hobbies include architecture, pranks, and gossip. No title, but a good family.”

Navia leaned over to whisper in your ear, “What about the title husband?”

You shrugged. “Yeah, he’s cute.”

Clorinde hummed. “His boyfriend thinks he’s handsome also.”

Both Navia and you fist pump at that fact. “Right on.”

“No matter.” Your mother tapped Charlotte’s shoulder so that she could take down a memo. “Put him on all the invitation lists. He’s a divine dancer.”

“Next.” The slide changed again. “Sir Zhongli. Resident of Liyue. His hobbies include games, art, and making money.”

“Too old.” Your mother shook her head.

You frowned. He didn't look that old to you. If anything, he looked rather dashing and young. Nevertheless, you didn’t argue with her. You learned that lesson the hard way a long time ago.

The slide switched again. “Prince Venti. Resident of Mondstadt. His hobbies include playing the lyre, singing, and drinking.”

Another shake of your mother’s head. “Too young.”

“Does this popcorn taste different to you?” Navia leaned over again to ask you all of a sudden.

You shrugged. “Sigewinne made it. You know how she is in the kitchen.”

“Ah, I thought so. It tastes amazing!”

The slide switched while you weren’t looking. “Lyney. Resident of Fontaine. His hobbies include magic, pranks, and spending time with family.”

It was Clorinde who had an objection to this one. “Arrested too many times.”

“Really? Him?” You asked, bewildered. "He doesn't look like he could hurt a fly!"

She gravely nodded. “I should know. I’ve been the one to arrest him at least twice.”

Your mother huffed. “Wait, no. We need someone titled, someone who can help you run a country without ego getting in the way. Someone attractive, smart, but not arrogant. Someone with compassion-”

The slide changed.

“Someone like him?”

“Duke Wriothesley.” Charlotte announced, her voice holding a hint of pride. “Resident of Fontaine. His hobbies include drinking tea, fighting, and helping others.”

“Yes!” Your mother all but shouted. “Someone very much like him! Good choice, dearest! I wonder why I didn’t think of him before!”

“Duke Wriothesley.” Ryujin muttered before giving a small nod. “Sounds like he’d be a good choice for you.”

“Well he looks,” You tried to pick a suitable adjective. “Decent.”

As you mentioned before, you weren’t really interested in getting married just so you could become Queen. You thought you could handle the task on your own. But the law is the law, and you couldn't argue with it. Besides, maybe this could work. Even if you didn’t fall head over heels in love with him, perhaps the two of you could get along with one another. His extended biography that Charlotte had given you along with all the others made him sound like quite the gentleman.

Who knows, maybe this could work out after all.

[mikaaki]

✧ ⁠— LACES

characters : wriothesley

warnings : afab ! reader , reader wears a dress

word count : 0.56k

notes : this is literally all i’ve been thinking about

wish my husband a happy birthday !!!

official proofreader : @tr1scuitsworld

you stood in the comfort of your shared bedroom , looking in the mirror as you dressed yourself. or at least , attempted to dress yourself.

you and wriothesley had been invited for a small formal event at the palais mermonia. it being a formal event meant you should dress in something more sophisticated than you typically would.

your hair was held up by a clip , temporarily moved out of the way while you struggled with the laces of the dress. it felt impossible to get the dress to fit snugly against your figure. anytime you thought you had it , the laces were too loose or they looked too lopsided. it was growing frustrating.

❝ need help? ❞ a more than familiar voice asked from the other side of the room. you held the top of the dress against your chest , turning to face him.

wriothesley stood on the other side of the room, fixing his tie as he glanced over at you. he didn’t say anything as he looked at the dress you had been struggling to put on.

❝ turn around. ❞ he said , walking over to where you stood.

you did as he asked , turning to face the mirror as he took his place behind you.

his hands reached for the thin laces on the back of your dress , beginning to tug on them. he pulled the laces through the loops in your corset , being careful not to lace it up too tightly. he would hate to accidentally crush your ribs in the process.

you watched him through the mirror. he looked so focused as he laced up your dress. his eyes narrowed as he worked. he was so pretty when he was focused.

❝ there, ❞ he hummed , tying the remainder of the lace into a small bow. he rested his hands on your hips , causing your stomach to explode with butterflies.

❝ look at you. ❞ you could practically hear the smile in his voice as he rested his head against yours , looking at you through the mirror. ❝ you look gorgeous, ❞

❝ thank you, ❞ you replied with a soft laugh , your face heating up as he complimented you. it was obvious he was checking you out , but you couldn’t complain.

the dress was fitted nicely to your figure , showing off your curves whilst being comfortable enough to allow you to move.

❝ how did i get so lucky? ❞ he happily sighed , pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

❝ oh you’re lucky? ❞ you asked , looking over your shoulder at him.

you could clearly see the absolute love and adoration he held for you on his face. he had this stupid smile on his face while looking down at you.

❝ so lucky, ❞ he whispered , pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. he let his lips linger for a moment before pulling away. he took the clip out of your hair , letting your hair fall against your skin.

❝ now , let’s get your hair styled , hm? ❞

your boyfriend was always so happy to help. and you were more than happy to let him.

who knew the duke of the fortress of meropide had such a soft spot for his lover?

tags for sillies : @akiseochi

dm , comment , or ask to be added !

[wormdevourer]

I made a tiny wriothesley out of clay!! <33 (the second part is his coat on his back)

[glitch-but-ya]

The hearth that burns through the winter’s frost.

Featuring: Wriothesley

Tags: Angst, backstory, sfw, headcanon, reader isn’t mentioned, drabble, no ships, Sigewinne mentioned

TW: Mentions/descriptions of blood and gore, violence, mentions of death and murder

Summary: Memories from the past resurface in the duke’s mind every now and then. On frosty nights like this, Wriothesley is reminded of the fire from which he was born anew, and the bloody past he is now forced to put behind him. Although, luckily for him, this time, he does not have to bear his burdens alone.

!!Spoiler warnings for Wriothesley’s backstory and story quest!!

Wriothesley was used to the cold. For the longest time, the cold was all he knew. The sheer emptiness of winter resonated with him in a way he would have never anticipated. The roaring frost that froze his heart, the perilous blizzards that screeched and howled, and the stillness of it all after the storm had passed. His love for winter was not misplaced. Winter was a reflection of the cycles of his life. From the moment he was abandoned as a child to the blood-stained podium he stands on today, everything in his life was foretold by the vindictive rhythm of winter. And it was only now that he regained some control of his life.

The one thing Wriothesley could not foretell was his future. How can a boy unwanted by his own parents at birth ever experience the warmth that is love? He believed he wasn’t worthy of it. His hands were coated with crimson. And no matter how hard he rubbed, the blood wouldn’t come off. How could a man like him—an ex-convict, a criminal, and a murderer—ever be chosen and cared for? He was sure that the lack of love he’d grown up with would accompany him on his journey and lie with him on his deathbed.

The first person to shatter his belief was the head nurse. The adorable and juvenile-looking Melusine that had secrets of her own and a past as concealed and dark as his. Wriothesley was only a boy when he first met her. It had been an inevitable meeting, and a horrible setting for a first-time encounter. With a busted knee and bearing one of the many visible scars he now has across his neck, he limped into Sigewinne’s office helplessly. He remembers the way Sigewinne’s countenance distorted: the way her nose scrunched, her pupils contracted, and the mournful noise that escaped her lips.

It was a normal reaction. Anyone who had the honor of witnessing a child half beaten to a pulp would react in the same way. Perhaps, they would react even more dramatically.

The next series of events unfolded swiftly and remain a blur in Wriothesley’s fading memory. But from the fragmented memories scattered about, he can recall the desperation in Sigewinne’s voice. “My goodness, he is a child!” she cried. The worried scoldings and swift dragging about soon followed. And when he reopened his eyes, he was born anew with a wretched scar trailing down his neck up to his chest.

Then began the interrogations, to which Wriothesley had not responded in kind. He admits now, looking back, the harsh verbiage he used was quite immature and indecent of him. But to his defense, how could a delinquent like him know of decency? Throwing his fists was all they taught the children on the streets. It was a cold reality he was forced to adapt to after escaping his home. There, he learned how to pick fights and how to construct weapons from scratch.

That was the life he belonged to. That was the life he deserved.

But then why was she looking at him with those eyes? Why did she take all his words and not fight back? Why did her head droop with shame, as if the sight before her was the most miserable she’d ever seen? Wriothesley couldn’t understand why the Melusine cared so much. He was an orphaned kid, bound to a life of violence and fated to an abrupt end in a dark, cold alley, all alone. He’d never seen someone cry over scrap metal.

Sigewinne gently wrapped the cast around his knee, her eyes never leaving his face. “What are you in for?” she inquired. Wriothesley turned his head away. “Murder,” he replied, “killed my parents.” Contrary to the reaction he’d expected, Sigewinne said nothing. He studied her face for a moment, checking for any signs of disgust or disdain. But he found nothing. She simply continued to tighten the cast around his knee.

After what felt like a decade, Sigewinne looked up at the boy. “Why?”

“Why would I tell you?” he scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. “What’s in it for me?”

“The boy that picked on you. He was a former patient of mine. An unruly one at best.” With newfound sincerity, she gazed deep into Wriothesley’s pale blue eyes. “I’ll bring him to justice. I will make sure he is punished.”

A secret Sigewinne would never tell Wriothesley was that her offer held two purposes. One, to deliver justice where justice was due, and two, to ensure that the boy before her did not go down a dangerous path in search of vengeance. It was only after Wriothesley had become the Duke that he finally understood the double meaning behind her actions.

The offer seemed to tempt the boy. “Fine,” he muttered. “But if you go back on your word, I will make sure you meet your end.” To his threat, Sigewinne only giggled. “Sure, it’s a deal, then.”

From that day onwards, the little Melusine never left Wriothesley’s side. She would watch from afar as he hammered the crooked contraption, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. He knew she was watching, and his attempts at scaring her away sparked the same results. Sigewinne was persistent; that he could tell. Though his predeveloped mind could not fathom why she cared.

Eventually, she left him no choice but to resign himself. And so, Sigewinne became a vital part of young Wriothesley’s everyday life. When he had overworked himself, she would appear, clutching one of her disgusting milkshakes. Every time someone bigger dared to pick on him, she would barge in and break up the fight. And when he grew strong enough to fight in the ring, Sigewinne would be there, standing by the entrance and patiently waiting for him the moment his match ended.

Wriothesley grew up with her. She was a mother to him, despite her small, childlike appearance. Sigewinne raised him, and Wriothesley is forever indebted to her for the selfless care she had shown him all his life in the Fortress.

Even when Wriothesley overtook the Fortress of Meropide, Sigewinne stayed. And to repay her for her years’ worth of kindness, he built Sigewinne her own office—a place where she could change more lives, just as she’d changed his.

Wriothesley held a new belief now. The belief that Sigewinne would be his first and last friend. The belief that his position as a Duke would not attract any more unfortunate people. And alas, his belief was shattered as a flock of people stormed into his heart, desperately chipping away the frost that concealed it.

Perhaps, he did not need to hide any longer. It’s still a thought in its early stages—a thought that required more consideration. But for now, he cannot deny the warmth that began to slowly emerge. Like a bucket of paint splashed across the frames of his monochromatic life, colors suddenly sprang free, and life bloomed. There are parts of him that have not yet (and cannot) be defrosted. But they will learn. The flowers will learn to live in harmony with the ice. The winters will still persist, and spring must harmonize with it.

Despite all that, Wriothesley knows that if he were ever to fall, there would be people to push him back on his feet.

For now, though, he’d like to sit back and enjoy the warmth of the hearth that burns through winter’s frost.

[elysian-edu]

rich husbands who make their whole life about taking care of you.

oh, that necklace you glanced at while at the mall? now you're there trying several other ones on because "they all look perfect on you."

the dress you looked at through that shop window? bought. plus anything else you even remotely wanted.

that snack you crave almost all the time? he almost buys the whole business for you just to have them as often as you'd like. (in moderation of course!)

rich husbands who don't understand why you want to work, and every time you tell them why they simply say:

"i can provide more than enough for the both of us, but go ahead."

rich husbands the second they see you all stressed and tired from that job, call in and quit for you.

and when you try to get up the next morning to go to said job, he ushers you back to bed, lays you down and tells you to "not worry about that pesky job again."

rich husbands who like to make it known to everyone that you're married to him.

buys you the biggest rock you've ever seen adorned on your finger to propose to you, and makes it his routine to see if you have his ring on. (which you always do.)

indirectly flaunts it to passersby's by holding your hand, occasionally picking your hand up to inspect it, and trying not to crack a smile as he hears women gasp, and whisper, "she's one lucky woman."

rich husbands who tell everyone they know about you, whether that be coworkers, family, or random people, he'll always somehow flip the conversation to being about you.

"oh that? my wife is quite fond of it, yes."

"that reminds me of my wife, she quite likes those things. often calling them "cute.""

rich husbands <33

[miyaz6ki]

☆ wearing their clothes

synopsis. seeing s/o wearing their clothes for the first time :) (like shirts/sweatshirts or jackets/coats :pensive:)

the blade has spoken. erm... first draft being posted... i feel a little nervous after changing from reshinless to the user i use everywhere..

pairings. albedo, alhaitham, capitano, childe, wriothesley, diluc, neuvillette, kinich, xiao, dainsleif, wanderer

albedo felt himself heating up already. the red that crept up his neck was noticeable as you looked up. you were wearing his lab coat, and all cozy in the bed you both share.

"you're.. wearing.. my.." - "oh.. wow."

he had just come back from work and he couldn't wait to cuddle with you in bed, yet it was as if he wouldn't mind conducting another experiment with his new 'assistant' by his side <3

alhaitham when he suddenly walks into the empty home, tired of the work he's done for only archons knows how long he had been working. he just wanted to come home and tell you about all the things he's been- oh.

he was stunned. star struck. fuck. were you really wearing his sweater right now? the grayhead felt himself simply smirk at he adorable sight of you simply sleeping on the couch. a dinner made just for him, along with dessert on the side (ifykyk)

"maybe i'll tell you when i wake up, love."

capitano who simply lets out a chuckle, one out of love. he loves how large his coat looked on you. he handed it to you after going out for a while, asking you to simply hang it beside his desk. yet you had better ideas. and by better ideas? is to wear it of course!

"well what do we have here? you're so adorable my love."

he tucks strands of your hair behind your ear. adoring the way you tried your best not to fall over as you tried to spin. this was enough to keep you warm though. not to mention how he was already carrying you bridal style to bed.

childe laughs, seeing you try on one of his shirts, looking at yourself in the mirror before turning to see him.

baby, you look amazing! how about another spin?

even when you simply scoffed, he loved how you looked right now. fuck, he could feel himself reddening already. he definitely will let you have full access to his wardrobe. just take it all like how you took his heart too.

wriothesley just put his jacket over you to keep you from being wet while watching the melusines play with sigewinne, yet right now he was more focused on how much he admired your figure in his clothes. his jacket.

"what's wrong?" "...nothing. you look amazing today, yk that?"

he chuckled at your behavior, unaware of your own attractiveness as you told them to stop running around the fountain with the wetness of the floor spreading. you couldn't help but ease up and laugh as well.

a certainly crazy day at the court of justice- neuvillette was finally finishing up the last few cases, not to mention how absurd some of the cases were.

not realizing he ended up taking your jacket instead of his home, only realizing it when the melusines mention how different it look from his usual one. oh man. there you were. trying on his coat that just seemed a little too big (or small) on you. gosh were you cute.. what do you mean his ears are red?!

"i.. it looks better on you than me, doesn it?"

dainsleif who was there immediately as soon as the red wine was spilled onto your outfit. quick to spring into acting, he throws his jacket over it just as fast. scolding the person who jealously just oh-so accidentally ruined your outfit tonight purely because they wanted your significant other? oh please he wasn't having any of that!

but by the time his anger went away, he didn't realize how.. alluring you looked.. in something he wore all the time. it definitely suited you better, only noticing after he finally parked the car. he definitely had to give you more of his clothes.

"you.. uh.. i.. well.. you're beautiful. you know, you're welcome to keep that."

diluc's face was turning as red as his hair seeing how you quietly snored, sound asleep in his- no, your shared bed. seeing how closely you held his coat to your chest, as well as the shirt you wore.

"...I don't.. deserve you."

he simply took his boots off, letting his arms snake you close, one of his hands trailing up to your scalp, calmly stroking your head as he feels you smile into his chest. this was life.

kinich who always had an interesting wardrobe, you really just wanted to see how comfy his clothes were if he can swing back and forth that far!

and in which you did, spinning and looking at yourself in the mirror in his clothing. you loved it even more from how it smelled just like him too <3

"someone's having fun aren't they?"

you felt yourself blush out of embarassment of getting caught. but before you could apologize, he already had his lips on yours.

when xiao decides it'd be a good idea to give you a hoodie just to realize you never gave it back. is it just.. yours now?

and to find out the answer? yes! it is! and he finds out in the cutest way possible—by finding you sleeping soundly and wearing it all the same. almost indifferent about it as if it was normal.

"you okay?" "i-i've been looking for this y-you know.."

he only flushed more when you tell him you missed him so much.

finally coming home, wanderer, or scaramouche just wanted to cuddle. no words shared. just to hold you in his arms.

but maybe it was good that didn't happen. because now he was looking at the love of his life, and eating the food they made him. knowing how they made it with the knowledge on how he can't really taste anything. not to mention you were wearing.. that sweatshirt he lent you.

you.. look.. good.

[teaeodora]

PICK YOUR DOMESTIC HUSBAND 🛒

WHICH HUSBAND IS ON THE DOMESTICITY MENU TODAY?

featuring: diluc, alhaitham, zhongli, wriothesley, neuvillette.

synopsis: glimpses into married life with the genshin men.

warnings: implied fem!reader, occasional pet names, ooc (I have a sparse idea how diluc works, mention of "activities" (just mention I can't write smut pls), silly goofy ah loser coded men, mild swearing (damn, heck)

a/n: *stretching my back and crunching my neck.* I'm back from the dead. apologies for the choppy writing. thanks for the support on the other posts, if only I could write 50-page essays thanking everyone. <33 :')) not proofread.

DILUC 🍷

PRODUCT NAME: BREAKFAST AND KISSES IN BED. Diluc always hated the Knights of Favonius… 

He hated how most of them just stand around like buffoons and do not partake in any actual work that involves saving Mondstadt. He wouldn’t admit that he enjoys playing Batman. He hated them all except for one.

One he was willing to forgive all flaws of. "Knight of Favonius…always so inefficient,”  He scoffed at the pathetic sight of the hilichurls trying to dry roast a few knights roped to a wooden stick for their dinner. “Seriously, You’re so right Master Diluc.” Diluc’s head turned so fast at the sound of a new voice. When did you get here? Were you always there and how did he not sense you around?

That’s simply how you always were. A hard worker amidst slackers – he always termed despite Jean trying to explain that others work hard too. Perhaps that’s what caught his attention, honestly, he would never know what did. “G’morning…” He murmured against your skin, head buried in the crook of your neck, your flushed bare back pressed against him. “5 more minutes…” he heard your soft and groggy voice evoking a chuckle from the usually passive man. “Have I ever told you…how beautiful you are?” Diluc muttered against your skin. You smiled and turned around, “You always do. I remember my Dark-Knight Hero crying at the altar.” You pressed a finger against his chest, while he scoffed at the memory. “Don’t remind me about that, Kaeya doesn’t let me live that down…” He sighed, his brother consistently brought up the matter of him crying whenever he was losing an argument. Foul play if you ask anyone. “So…breakfast downstairs or in the bed?” He planted a kiss on your cheek while you hummed out a response, “Bed, you didn’t exactly go easy on me the previous night.” You recalled the events of the passionate night the day before. The honeymoon phase never seemed to end. “I am so sorry–” He panicked,” You're not in pain are you? I promise I’ll be gentle– I knew I should’ve been more considerat–” You stopped him by pressing a kiss against his lips. He groaned at the feeling of your soft lips touching his hands tangling themselves in your hair.

“I’m kidding silly… you should stop taking things so seriously unless you want me to start searching for grey hairs amidst those red locks of yours.” You snickered out seeing him release a breath of relief.

If the Darknight Hero really does exist, he's probably just someone in disguise. When he gets up in the morning to brush his teeth, it's the real him. He was his real him in front of you. People may call him a loser for such vulnerability…he was a loser for you.

ALHAITHAM 🌱

PRODUCT NAME: READING BOOKS OUT LOUD. One would say married to someone like Alhaitham was nothing short of a nightmare. They weren't 100% right. Shrouded beneath the aloof and meticulous personality resided someone who was in complete denial towards being loved. He loves it.

Who was he kidding? Nobody in a million years thought someone could put up with his insufferable personality — said Kaveh, his unpaying tenant. That was until he ran into you during his time as the newly appointed Scribe. You were like a painter, splashing heaps of paint in his 90s black-and-white life. Was eating ice cream always this enjoyable or was it because it was with you? Was the gossip between co-workers always this interesting or was it because it included you?

Why was his heart having an entire Queen’s rock and roll concert talking to you? Was it cardiac arrest or– He almost shuddered at the thought of it being what they called love.

“You’ve got flour on your face, sweetheart.” His teal eyes blinked amusingly into yours, a faint smile curling up his lips. You must have saved a nation in your previous life to land this man as your husband. Beige shirt perfectly sculpting around his abs – contrary to him calling himself “feeble,” hair slightly tousled and slight sleepiness in his eyes. He might not act like it but he was a little child whose needs had to be tended to like the coffee mug in his hands which you made, like usual. You wouldn’t want a cranky Alhaitham now, would you? “Hmpf, not my fault, this cooking book is completely bogus!” You rubbed your cheeks with the back of your hand, wiping away any remaining flour. “This is so boring…if only someone could provide their poor wife with some entertainment.” You always resorted to theatrics to get him to do things for you, albeit begrudgingly. “No, the same tactic is not going to work again.” “Please…” “No…” He groaned, tone almost pleading not to put him through the torture again. “During better or worse!” You resorted to the ace up to your sleeve. WEDDING VOWS! “Stop quoting the wedding vows.” He sighed in defeat. The most intellectually gifted man in the nation couldn't win against his own wife. Ironical. He got up and grabbed a book out of the bookshelf; a small fraction of his much larger library.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Alhaitham lazily flipped through the pages earning a rebuke. “More emotion! You are ruining the scene.” Alhaitham sighed and cleared his throat, “I love you most ardently…” His tone was feathery soft, emotion surging in it. A smile crept up as he stared at you endearingly.

“That’s much better. Though I seriously think Mr Darcy should’ve said– Miss Elizabeth, allow me to kiseth thy lovely lips.” You mimicked the deep voice of the character with the failing British accent. “Please have mercy on Jane Austen’s ghost and let her enjoy the afterlife.” Alhaitham chuckled and continued reading as you continued baking.  It was a shame that a man of such talent only paid attention to the truth itself and not to the people around him. If only the searching eyes of the ordinary say the exception to his indifference, you.

This was your biosphere, just you, him, novels and food encapsulated inside your small home.

ZHONGLI 🪨

PRODUCT NAME: ALWAYS ON HIS MIND. What is the best but the most useless flex you have? Being married to the Geo Archon. The inability to just tell the whole world that you are married to the frigging god was painful. You yourself were surprised by your ability to control yourself. Zhongli was a man of carefully curated words. Instead of words, straight-up poetry flew out of his mouth. Everyone knew how much he adored his wife, every vendor, every acquaintance, heck even Venti. Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's mysterious consultant. Handsome, elegant, and surpassingly learned. Excellent memory. A master of courtesy and rules. The amount of poor women who have tried to grab his attention. "Mr.Zhongli, how does this look?" the woman, who he remembered meeting over a history discussion 17 days ago. "Hm?" his amber eyes shifted to gaze at the hairpiece the lady was holding. "Most exquisite.." He remarked, seemingly going into deep thought. Instead of a compliment, he said something that made the woman back away, "Such beautiful craftsmanship...may I ask you to tell me where you found this? I wish to buy one for my wife–" he paused, seeing the lady vanished after pointing at the shop where she got it from. "Zhongli, you should be able to tell why people approach you..." Hutao sighed, standing beside the rather oblivious gentleman. "Let's just continue...we've got customers to find!" Hutao started walking alongside the railing, hoping to find people in need of funeral services. "Maybe we should go and ask peopl– Zhongli??" Hutao looked around for the Consultant, who was caught up chatting with a shopkeeper over some earrings. "Zhongli!" Hutao called out to him, causing his head to turn towards the director. "Oh, apologies...It seems I got too carried away. These earrings caught my eye...I'm sure [Name} would love them.." he mumbled, staring at the jewellery. "I'll take them." "Mister Zhongli? What about the payment..." The shopkeeper meekly asked, causing Zhongli to turn his head fully at Hutao; gazing expectantly. Hutao should've expected this... "Zhongli, we are out here to find customers! Not buying gifts for [Name], her birthday is months away!" "They say the best things should be done first. After all, why must I wait for one specific day to express my love for my beloved?" Zhongli asked curiously and Hutao shaked her head; love was clearly out of her expertise. Zhongli, he is particular about everything. He only attended the best operas and focused on the perfect ratio for the creation of an authentic dish.  On a typical day, all you will glean from him is a few pieces of useless trivia, because he particularly enjoys sharing these fun tidbits with you. He was particular about you and your likings. A smile on your face was what he wanted by the end of the day. For being someone alive for 6000 years, he could proudly say that he loved and cherished something– someone.

"Wait here, Director Hu...Perhaps I should get those flowers over there to accompany the hairpin and earrings..."

WRIOTHESLEY 🐺

PRODUCT NAME: BATTLE TO BUY A DOG OR NOT.

"Wriothesley, I want a dog!" You crossed your arms, staring down at the Duke who was glued to the chair in his office. “But why? That’s just unnecessary responsibility…” Wriothesley sighed, rubbing his temples. This was the 3rd time this month you’ve brought up this topic. Was he that incompetent in terms of filling his role as your significant other? Perhaps not with the never-ending paperwork. Oh, how he wished people would just stop committing crimes. “I get lonely in the Fortress…I want a child.” You put forth your point by using the term ’ child’. Child, dog same thing. You hoped to finally convince him this time.

“We have Sigewinne.” Wriothesley pointed at the head nurse prepping tea in the room with the back of his pen. “I am sorry, Your Grace but playing the role of the child is out of my job description.” The Melusine replied indifferently, pouring freshly seeped tea into the three cups. “Fine, we will go get one…I’ll schedule a meeting with the owner of the pet shelter. Happy?” He asked you, chin resting on his palm. Perhaps getting a dog was a good idea as he was guilty of being unable to spend quality time with you… “No way…” “Isn’t that..?” “The Duke of the Meropide–” “He rarely appears in public..” Wriothesley held out the door to the shelter for you, hoping you would go in and it would finally save him from the gaze of curious onlookers. The two of you walked in, only to be pounced upon by a big dog. “Kal! You sly dog! I knew I shouldn’t have let you out!” The caretaker yelled at the big ball of black fur who had tackled Wriothesley to the floor and was aggressively licking his face, tail wagging in delight. “Are you okay?” You asked your fallen husband, who just chuckled in response. “I am good just– Okay stop! I understand your gesture of love.” Wriothesley got up as the dog encircled him. “This one is so adorable…” you gasped at the cuteness radiating from the dog and its big brown eyes. “You’ve got a keen eye! This is Kal, Shiloh Shepard, one of the finest dogs out there.” The caretaker combed her fingers through the thick and groomed black coat of the canine. “He seems to have taken a liking to the Duke.” The caretaker continued as the dog ran back to Wriothesley, peppering his face with licks. “He even looks like you.” You teased as Wriothesley stared at you in disbelief. You did not just compare him to a dog…he even did a double take at the dog to confirm. “We will take this one then…” He chuckled in amusement. Never had he imagined marrying you and on top of that getting a four-legged beast. Needless to say, Wriothesley proudly walked out of the shelter, holding the big dog in his hands like a child. It felt complete ever since getting Kal; like your own little family. Wriothesley wouldn’t admit it but he loved the dog, despite it hogging all of your love and attention. He didn’t expect to be fighting over cuddling rights with a dog!? 

He watched you and Kal sleep peacefully on the couch, keeping him company while he finished up his work. He felt a sense of gratitude…people of the Fortress knew little of the crime he once committed. The only one who still remembers it like yesterday is Wriothesley himself. And no matter how much glory or repute he has earned, he still considers himself to be the same old Wriothesley he's always known.Neither a good person nor a complete villain. He's just another soul, still living on in this world. However, your eyes always reassured him in ways he couldn’t describe. Everything was perfect…

[Name]!! YOURDAMN DOG PISSED ON MY COAT!! Maybe not that perfect…whoops.

NEUVILLETTE 🌊

PRODUCT NAME: HELPING THE OTHER DRESS.

Monsieur Neuvillette, The Iudex of Fontaine, always wondered how his life had come to this. 500 years of serving his position as the Beacon of Justice, a lovely, beaming baker somehow broke the monotony. Well, calling you just a baker was now an insult. With your ring finger bejewelled, with one of the rarest gems– an ode to his undying loyalty and representation of his eternal love. “It’s astounding how a covert mission conducted by melusines could’ve landed someone such as myself a lady like her…” He muttered to himself, seeing his full form in the mirror. “Talking to yourself, again?” You leaned against the door frame, lopsidedly smiling at the peculiar antics of Fontaine’s most distinguished man. “Ah, apologies…I didn’t think you would notice me conversing with myself. Now I find myself in a rather awkward predicament.” He chuckled. Dear god, this man was so beautiful that his beauty was almost blinding with the morning sun perfectly hitting his face.

“Say ah,” You requested and he complied. Who better to take constructive criticism from other than your husband? “New filling?” He covered his mouth while chewing on the croissant. “Yup, how is it? I was experimenting with some Rainbow Roses and these Inazuman berries I bought.” You blinked curiously, waiting for some input. “Hmm it is very pleasant, it is fascinating how you manage to maintain the freshness of the fruit…” You smiled at his compliment, before noticing him struggling with the jabot around his neck. “Need help?” You offered and he nodded his head. “This is absurd..it usually isn’t this difficult.” He frustrated replied, it was amusing to see the cool and collected man all worked up about clothing. “I suggest simplifying your outfit.” You attached the jabot and secured it in with the teardrop brooch, fixing the ruffles. 

“Thank you. I do prefer my outfit as it conveys the message I wish for it to convey.” He explained before staring at you. You knew that look, he looked at you with his eyebrows slightly creased when he was hesitating from saying something. “What is it?” “Do I get a goodbye kiss before I leave?” “Pfft! I didn’t think you would take that seriously!” Conclusion: this man was wayyy to cute.

Neuvillette is a solitary person. Neuvillette is not known for his personal desires.

He was deemed as someone with unassailable impartiality. If only they knew that perhaps the Iudex was just a wee bit biased.

a/n 2.0: the crust will come off...hopefully. i wonder if it's possible to guess which one of them is my favourite??

don't steal, copy, plagiarise, or translate.

©definitelysel

[koenigami]

tags: fluff, gn!reader, kinda jealous wrio WRIOTHESLEY knows he’s screwed when even a melusine seems to understand his own feelings better than he does.

"Is that what your books have taught you?" he asks, masking his jitteriness with a light smirk before lifting the tea cup to his lips.

"Partly, your grace." Sigewinne smiles innocently and leans on her tiptoes to reach for the empty cups that have accumulated during the morning. All the paperwork that Wriothesley had to deal with the past couple days barely left him time to keep his office tidy. "Displaying traits of jealousy is a natural phenomenon that one does when seeking attention of a second party."

"I'm not jealous." Wriothesley corrects, and despite his seemingly calm exterior, if you look closely enough you'll catch his eyebrow twitching in slight irritation. He has always admired Sigewinne's eagerness and motivation when it comes to the study of human behavior. Though, he would have never thought that her devotion would one day bite him in his ass.

"Of course not." She must have stumbled upon the chapter named "sarcasm" in one of her books at the way her voice seems to take on a teasing undertone. "I'm sorry for the misunderstanding, your grace. I'm sure you won’t mind then if I tell you that Y/n is currently having lunch with one of the inmates."

"Of course I don’t mind." Of course he does. His hand tenses before he puts the half empty cup back down on his desk, fearing that he might snap its handle in half. Enjoying a meal with your inmates is nothing out of the ordinary, right? Sure, he might have witnessed a few of them ogling you and throwing animalistic glances your way as if you were some piece of fresh meat. But even if so, there is no reason for it to be any of his concerns.

Sigewinne keeps him company until he finishes his tea before heading out of his office. However not before the duke stops her in her tracks, her name sounding … nervous as it leaves his mouth.

"Would you happen to know the name of that inmate?"

[anantaru]

big cock alhaitham / wrio trying to fit his cock inside you mfmfmfmgmfmgm

synopsis. he's trying to fit his cock in you (struggling) <3

including. alhaitham, wriothesley

warnings. size kink & size difference, big dick genshin characters, dirty talk, petnames used: baby, fem! reader

— alhaitham

"it— it's not working," you gasp, nails wretchedly scraping at alhaitham's bicep and your knuckles dwindling with how tightly you were holding him against you, at all times needing your boyfriend's heavy weight close, despite his solid cock not even slipping an inch inside— no matter how wet he's gotten you earlier.

he tries again, tries to nudge his fat tip into your little hole, all desires and doubts banished from his mind, only a single aim in mind, a crystal clear focus flashing in his eyes. ultimately, your body relaxes at how gentle his face was the entire time, as if he's got it all under control and you shouldn't worry about a single thing right now, only enjoy the pressure pinching at your core and how it threatened to break you into a million pieces.

he won’t fit he won't fit alhaitham won't fit but he so desperately wants it and so do you— your mind shouts out alarms to warn you yet again, repeatedly inform you that there wasn't a chance that you'd be able to get filled up by his heavy load tonight, not even get a taste of his swelling erection sticking mercilessly to your walls.

he's failing, his cock head messily brushing up into your folds, roughly enough to scratch a sob from your throat. but that's not a sound alhaitham wants to hear, he craves the noise you make when he slips it in, until you're overfilled with his cum and it's running down the insides of your thighs, staining the mattress.

for all that, instead of growing frustrated, alhaitham decides to gently cup your cheek with his free hand to pull your gaze against his, holding you like the most delicate glass threatening to break— then you feel it, right there, his heavy breathing even heavier and that look in his colorful eyes.

for a second, you relax and let him handle you, awaiting his next move as he looks down at you with a watery, toothy smirk, sighing deeply into his chest and exhaling through his mouth, a tender sound you never grow tired of hearing before his palm holds one leg further apart, your hole spreading for him.

the swell of your pussy lips and the glistening arousal on top of it made the scribe feel like he was on cloud 9, drunken by your beauty and so hard working to please his sweet darling— never any less excited to receive his heavy bulk inside your warmth.

your lungs burn when he goes slow again, chillingly so, even more undemanding that your curves melt like dough beneath his hands.

he's got you now, pushing forward yet always alarmed that it wouldn't fit again as in this one single moment, it finally did, and alhaitham almost eclipsed by the roaring of his blood in his ears when he's got to hear your pretty moan for real now— not just the frustrated ones of you wanting to have him already, but that one particular sound you'd always make whenever you, yes, take him, all of him.

— wriothesley

"that good? you can take it?" hearing those words, it felt like the oxygen in your lungs was melting the moment you can hear wriothesley whisper once more, his wet lips ghosting over your ear shells and erecting goosebumps from your neck, "slowly baby, slowly, you don't wanna hurt yourself," he says, your body convulsing in both an ache and relief— and it's truly important for your health to keep breathing and stay content, even when you're fed up with his erection not fitting inside you that night.

"you're supposed to relax, okay? leave it to me, yeah?" he whispers, a slip of eminence soaring from his tongue to right beneath your trembling flesh— and ugh, it practically sparks all your excitement through your body and multiplies it by ten— your wet core and your puffy, little cunt waiting so patiently to be filled by him, only him forever and ever and ever on end.

"y-yeah.. that's it, baby, see.." nothing could ever prepare you for the feeling wriothesley manages to arouse from you each time, and you could certainly never get used to the feeling of his cock either, despite this not being the first time the two of you have been intimate together.

your back arches as your hole spreads around his erection pumping into your core when he manages to fit it inside, his massive shaft pulsing through your walls and sending shockwaves coursing into your veins, slick and sweat streaking on your skin.

his breath freezes on your wet lips with relief flaring through the watery gloss in your eyes as wriothesley kept his promise to you— starting out with experimental, little thrusts as his eyes closed of their own volition, his muscles tightening, his limbs moving while shifting back and forth a little, snapping his hips against your ass in all the right places.

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

[anemoelliacia]

threesome with hard dom wriothesley & soft dom neuvillette

warnings: MINORS DNI, threesome, afab reader (everything mentioned next is female receiving), little bit of degradation, praise, overstimulation, oral, fingering, light choking, crying, dacryphilia (kind of?), clit slapping, clit rubbing, squirting.

you sit wriggling and squirming, your back pressed against wriothesley's chest, and neuvillette's head is between your thighs. it feels like it's been hours, your mind is hazy as the two men having you won't let up. the overstimulation is bordering on too much.

how many orgasms have you had? you can't even string a thought together to try remembering. wriothesley has his arm around your torso, pinning you to his chest as you moan and cry out, "too much, 's to much I can't take much more."

but neuvillette is lapping at your cunt relentlessly, two fingers curling inside of you while his other hand holds your thighs open.

wriothesley lets out a growl at your whines and protests, he wraps a hand around your throat and pulls your head back to lay against his shoulder, "oh is our little whore too sensitive? too bad. you can and you will."

neuvillette let's up for a moment, just to give a bit of praise to counteract wriothesley harsh words. "you're being such a good girl, just one more okay?" he says, before putting his head right back between your thighs, attempting to draw out a fourth orgasm from your overstimulated body. but that's what he always says, he said one more two orgasms ago.

your hands grab onto wriothesley thigh, nails digging into the flesh as you quickly near another orgasm because of neuvillette's ministrations. wriothesley lets go of your throat, and his hands travel down your torso to hold you in place again as you try to squirm away. "stay still." he says harshly, "or we'll make it two more. you wanted this, so behave."

his words draw a whimper from your throat, tears pricking in the corners of your eyes. your hands go to neuvillette's hair, trying to pull him away from your core as your fourth orgasm of the night is impending, drawing closer as he keeps his lips wrapped around your clit, eating you out like a man starved. he groans into your pussy as you pull his hair, but he doesn't budge.

wriothesley chuckles at your tears and your feeble attempts to push neuvillette away, but he doesn't let it fly. "i said, behave." he growls out as he grabs your hands away from neuvillette's hair and pins them against your own chest.

moans and curses fly out of mouth, your legs shaking as neuvillette finally coaxes that fourth orgasm out of you. tears start to leak from your eyes at the intensity, the overstimulation getting to you.

"such a good girl for us, you're taking it so well." he says sweetly, slowing down his movements. however neuvillette doesn't pull away immediately, he works you through your orgasm as you make a mess of the sheets, pressing light kisses to your inner thighs as his fingers stay rubbing slow but purposeful circles on your clit.

your mind it so hazy, you almost don't register when wriothesley replaces neuvillette's hand with his own. at first he is slow, to tease. but it quickly registers to you when you feel his big hand quicken in speed, rubbing harshly against your clit, to rough to be neuvillette touching you. you cry out, and try to squeeze your thighs shut, but neuvillette keeps them open, "ah ah, sweet girl, keep them open. let wriothesley have his turn..."

you lean back against wriothesley's chest, throwing your head back onto his shoulder. "w- wrio please..." you cry out, trying to plead for him to slow down. it's futile to try to squirm away from his merciless touch, his rough hands attempting to draw just one more orgasm from you as he rubs your clit, wanting to see you making a mess all over the sheets again.

and the quick movements of his hand do just that, throwing you into another orgasm before you have even fully recovered from your last one. a lewd whine falls off your lips as you cum for the fifth time that night, your legs trembling as it overtakes you, arousal pooling out of your core, soaking the sheets just for him. he gives one last slap onto your clit, drawing a whimper from you, before pulling his hand away from you.

"n- no more please, can't..." you plead, slumping against wriothesley's chest, trying to catch your breath.

neuvillette gives you a little nod, "such a good girl, taking everything we give you." he says as wriothesley places a kiss on your temple.

▶i wrote this while listening to oxytocin by billie eilish <3

[staryuee]

HOW THEY REACT TO YOUR SILENT TREATMENT.

꒰warnings꒱ not proofread … sigh

⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . you and your partner are having a “cooling down period”, a time of détente, after a recent argument. how do they deal with the lack of love from you?

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . diluc, eula, wanderer, ayato, gorou, tartaglia, lyney, wriothesley, neuvillette, arlecchino

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . as a psychology student ☝️🤓 i can safely say that the silent treatment is usually frowned upon due to its connotations with emotional abuse, therefore i tried my best to make it apparent that this sort of silence is within the boundaries of the relationship ( ･᷄ὢ･᷅ ) please communicate with your loved ones if you feel a certain way :)

you and your beloved recently had a pretty bad argument. out of respect for both of your feelings you both decided to have a period of détente to allow a gradual recovery of your emotions and logical reasonings.

there was no need to argue, and there was also no need to be hostile or petty; therefore your silent treatment wasn’t a way to maliciously gain control or make your lover come running back to you, it was a way for both of you to regain composure and come back to the topic when prepared.

that did unfortunately, lead to much less affectionate gestures from both of you. of course there was still the casual “i love you” every morning and night accompanied by a simple kiss, but it never went anything beyond that.

while your lover fully knew why this sort of peaceful coexistence was necessary, sometimes it’s sincerely difficult to not just reach out and kiss you breathless.

you’re so close yet so far, it’s unbearable.

R. DILUC — 迪卢克

master diluc has been rather restless lately.

constant muttering to himself, plucking the dried up skin that stuck out from his badly bitten lips, his gloved hands constantly scratching a non existent scratch; honestly, if the fellow residents of dawn winery didn’t know any better they’d think he was possessed and required an immediate exorcist.

adelinde refuses to see her precious baby sink his eyes into ruin purely because he’s out secretly patrolling once he wakes up in the middle of the night to clear his head. you’re always there with him throughout the night: but why does it still feel so empty regardless?

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST ?

diluc is no pushover or people pleaser; if you were guilty, then you’re guilty and he’ll wait all the time in the world till you eventually own up and apologise (please let that come sooner or later though otherwise he’ll give into ruin and sip alcohol for a breather). otherwise, if its his fault, or no ones and it was a mere misunderstanding, the silent treatment lasts for a day. not any longer not any less; he doesn’t allow it to.

he’s more than happy to wait forever for you but gods if he ever made a mistake that accidentally led you to elongating this supposed transient silence till the end of time, diluc would much rather swallow his pride and give his all to you. you’re worth more than pettiness, and he’ll prove that to you once you wake up and get greeted with all your favourite luxuries and a bright, relieved smile on his face.

EULA — 优菈

you’re beyond delusion if you think this woman won’t turn this into a healthy-ish competition of sorts.

you wish to avoid her for days on end? she’s already used to the world avoiding her mere gaze, she can withstand the somber feeling of having the one person who’s fully understood her as the complex person she is self-isolating from her for a little while.

never mind, no, she literally can’t. come back to her right now. we have problem right? lets talk about it, isn’t that what you taught her in the first place? what do you mean you need a break and want to clear your head for a while to not hurt her feelings? you think eula of all people cares about something like that?

she’d rather you spit at her than withstand another hour of this mindless nonsense.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

she doesn’t apologise unless she sees whatever caused this perilous argument in the first place truly hurt you and you ended up in tears; otherwise whats the use in pointless words when you can easily hug it out and call it a day?

she lets you apologise under the guise of “if you don’t, my vengeance towards you will be greater than my foes”, but in reality? eula is hardly paying any attention to the words slipping past your lips. all she’s thinking about is how she’ll be able to shake off this uneasy tension that’s somehow been created between you two.

WANDERER — 流浪者

you can’t tell which one of you needed this little breather more, after all, you’d hope scara would allow himself to soften after distancing from you after a while, and scara hoped you’d see reason within your argument and eventually, as always, forgive him.

but forgiveness is a two way straight in the way most people subconsciously ignore; does he and could he ever forgive himself? that image of your teary eyed face, the harsh puffs of breath you heaved to prevent any more molten venom to burn his plastic skin, the slight clenching of your jaw, fuck it hurt.

he couldn’t admit it at the time, but right now after being forcefully peeled away from you for about week and forcing auntie nahida to listen to his venting rambles? he wished he just gave it all up and did something: anything at all. kissed you, hugged you, consoled you, swiped your tears away with his thumbs, fluttered his eyelashes on your cheek gently as he whispered an i love you.

yet all he could do right now was wait.

wait until you hopefully came back, he couldn’t face you. if you abandoned him he’d deal with it. the petals on the floor and the hushed whispers of “they love me, they love me not” are just hallucinations from his worried caregiver, he swears.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

never would he stoop so low as to apologise.

verbally. that is. if he’s aware that he’s in the wrong (believe me that look on your face does wonders for trying to figure out whats on your mind) he’ll begrudgingly come up with some covert way of making it up to you. he doesn’t want to be stuck in this immortalised silence forever; believe me, he likes your talking more than he realises and this little test trial of abandonment was more than enough proof that your existence within his life is essential.

if you’re not there standing by his side, what even is the point in that fraudulent pacemaker of his? your laughter is in the same shape of his heartbeat; if you’re not here, he’s just back to being that dumb little puppet cuddled ashore in the slim darkness of the night.

K. AYATO — 神里绫人

bile builds up in ayato’s throat, eyes threatening to spill hazardous tears on his paperwork. he HATES being away from you. yes, you’ll be back comfortably in his arms with a kiss on your forehead soon…but time isn’t making that “soon” come any quicker and it’s killing him.

‘silence’ is only the act of not speaking, right? so he’s technically allowed to sneak in pastries onto your desk when you’ve gone to take a break — he’s also most certainly allowed to write down his frustrations about not being able to be overly affectionate with you and then pitifully sliding them under your door in hopes you’ll read them and maybe write one back.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

he desperately tries to convince himself that if he works long enough, he’ll forget the hollowing feeling in his heart that’s left in the silhouette of you. he puts down his calligraphy pen with an exasperated sigh, rubbing his temples with rough motions as if to completely rid himself of any lingering thought of you.

that’ll never work, and ayato thinks you two have calmed down enough so therefore he trudged his way into your room, knocking of course, and sat down with you for a lengthy but beneficial conversation.

without a doubt, ayato will be the one to apologise first. whether it’s a conscious decision or not completely depends on how long he’s been away from you; at some point you just fall back into regular routine completely by accident.

GOROU — 五郎

he’s glad you’ve decided to take this sort of approach to your relationship instead of having a painful battle of the wits with him but right now, he’d withstand a thousand hours of scolding than the way his fellow soldiers worryingly clutter around their little general and ask about his well-being purely because those furry ears atop his bundle of bed hair decided to stay drooped down all week.

but he can’t help it! he’s utterly miserable! you didn’t even give him your complimentary “good morning, have fun at work, be safe” kiss before he left the door in the static quiet of your abode. to top this torture off? you haven’t pet him once, and while he’d normally revel in not being treated like an actual lap dog…you’re a huge exception in that rule!

unfortunately, it’s not like he can just outright demand attention from you merely because he’s feeling a bit down on his luck. you asked for peace, he’ll give it to you. he’s a war veteran but treats you like a flower thats sprouted on a ruined patch of sand.

ehem, but please come back to him soon. please?

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

whatever it takes to get your pretty hand to ruffle through his brunette locks he’ll do, he doesn’t care if the apology consists of him kneeling down on pitifully shaking his head near your thigh with his lips puckered into a pout. shame doesn’t exist within your relationship right? he’s more than willing to apologise first regardless of who was to blame.

if the argument was a little more serious however, he’ll sit down you on your couch that holds so many sweet significant memories within your mind, his head resting atop your collarbone and tail sneakily swishing from side to side now that your heartbeat was so clear to him. he’ll hear you out, talk through it, but more importantly, love and appreciate you.

TARTAGLIA — 公子

nuh uh. you think you’re getting silence with someone like him around? unless one or both of you fucked up really bad, tartaglia can’t see the point in silent ignorance; if you want to ignore him to personally calm down? sure, do whatever you want honey, you’re still getting treated like the other piece of his heart that you are.

if you’re genuinely annoyed he can leave you alone…for maybe two hours thirty minutes max. he loves you so much, talk to him, he doesn’t care if you insult him out of anger, lash out at him if you must. so long as you return into his arms so he can sway you around within his tender embrace and pepper your face with kisses, he’ll be more than happy and satisfied.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

him all day — call it the big brother complex with having to always apologise first whenever he got into a slight squabble or disagreement with his siblings when he were younger, or call it pure unadulterated love for you and the refusal to continue with this pointless staring battles whenever you guys were sitting across from each other.

whatever it is, just know he takes your feelings seriously regardless of the teasing grin across his face when you try not to squirm from the way his hand traveled from across your waist to the slither of exposed stomach. he just wants to assure you that his love won’t ever fade even if it becomes so deliberately one sided. he’s yours, after all.

LYNEY — 林尼

he’s used to eerie silence that bellowed icy winds against his ears, used to the tension that forced out his fight or flight response, but currently all he could do was freeze and overthink. how come this silence seemed so much more deafening than usual?

lyney doesn’t want this worse than capital punishment torture to continue without at least the slightest bit of laughter mingled into both of your days; he tries his best to curve your lips to even the slightest twenty degree lift using whatever he could. silly little flower reappearing trick there, a sneaky kiss to the side of your neck here; just any fleeting desperate attempt for some reciprocation on your part.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

lyney’s used to apologising first given his experiences within the house of hearth and the father herself. so imagine his surprise when you both incidentally stammer over one another as you two splutter apologies helplessly. god he’s so happy your relationship is built open gushes of giggles instead of the splats of tears because if it weren’t for that cute little accident? lyney was sure the second you opened your lovely lips to speak he would’ve teared up.

he missed that voice telling him constant i love yous, the affectionate cradling of his face against your neck and the way you wouldn’t hesitate to hold his flushed face within your cooling hands to comfort him after a particularly stress inducing performance.

WRIOTHESLEY — 莱欧斯利

you left the conversation with an “i love you.” so he knows that you’ll come back to him.

however, the last time he blindly trusted the comforting words of a loved one, it ended with blood on his hands and a lengthy sentence at the fortress of meropide. luckily for his heart and your own, he knows your charms and honeyed words aren’t for show and truly mean something.

wriothesley respects your boundaries and wishes to the t, he won’t speak to you like nothing at all happened but that doesn’t mean he won’t be overly cautious when it comes to your behavioural patterns. if he notices this sentence of silence is clearly taking its toll on you, he will, with no hesitation, talk everything out with you.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

depending on the argument, he’ll apologise first. if it’s rather undeniable that you were the one in the wrong however, he’ll explain his feelings thoroughly until you apologise — the standard. he doesn’t want this silence to end till the fortress of meropide overflows with primordial water so once you see multiple guards on your case more than ever, just know he’d like to talk to you.

NEUVILLETTE — 那维莱特

fontaine has been drenched in rain for the past couple of days. every hour, every minute, every second neuvillette spends alone in his office makes him realise just how grand and solemn it is. everything is so mundane and banal…even the cheerful mutters and chatters of the sweet melusines couldn’t bring a smile to his face — much to the dismay of the little sigewinne who even so kindly brought him a cake to cheer him up…

what makes it even worse is that everything reminds him of you…and oh god the muddied clouds have once again been cursed with rain. this unquenchable thirst for your presence cannot be ignored by a mere sip from his intricate cup and being the ever so carefully mindful iudex, neuvillette sees it more than fit to call this hopeless game of silence to quits.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

regardless of who’s in the wrong, neuvillette apologises first. he’s sorry for letting this go so far, he should’ve just trusted his gut and returned to your side even if it meant having to persuade you with his clever tongue or the coiling of his draconic tail around your leg to pull you sweetly closer.

honestly, if he could, he’d make this a punishment in the fortress of meropide for every couple. you committed a petty, technically non offensive crime? well instead of doing some charity work for the city, you’re not allowed by the side of your beloved for a few weeks.

ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺

a bunny within the jaws of a spring locked beast thinking it can persuade the tides in their favour with silence? arlecchino is amused you’d think such cheap tomfoolery would work to solve through your problems.

“darling, come here,” she taps her lap with her blood-stained nail, her eyes looking up at you greedily to soak up every single jitter of your movements as you alas fall onto your rightful throne, “my dumb bunny,” arlecchino coos at you with that devilishly low hum of her voice. “do you think the phrases ignorance is bliss, distance brings fondness, truly work within our relationship?”

arlecchino painfully grasps at your waist, that grip only loosening once you comfortably situate yourself on her thighs and lace your arms around her neck per routine. “i’d expect this behaviour from my children at the house of hearth, not you, angel.” she nibbles on your earlobe deliberately, forcing your lips to part just the way she likes. that perfect look of both surprise and desire; it’s a gorgeous display of your vulnerability.

“explain to me your problems, or else we can be at this forever.”

no such thing as the silent treatment when the very epitome of a wordless shadow has betrothed you.

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ

[saetoru]

underground fighter wriothesley who absolutely melts whenever you patch him up n place the softest kisses over his bruises n stuff :((

- 🦋 anon

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ WE, NOT I — WRIOTHESLEY.

contents. underground fighter! wriothesley, gn! reader (he gifts you flowers, perfume and a necklace though, so if that is fem! coded to you, there’s your warning), mentions of foster care and being orphaned (wriothesley), mentions of blood, bruises, and injuries (wriothesley), slight angst but overall fluff ending

money’s tight—has been for a while, actually. wriothesley doesn’t like to talk about it, doesn’t like to open up even though he knows you won’t think any less of him. but you notice the small things, always do.

it’s the way you buy groceries for two, the way he’s always over for dinner one way or another, the way he seems to spend more and more time at your place than his. money’s tight, even if he doesn’t like to admit it—and you could never force it out of him, but you think letting him stay with you while he can could help ease the burden of living even if a little.

he’s grateful—a little roundabout in the ways he shows it, but grateful all the same.

and then the presents start to come.

it’s small at first: those expensive macarons you like from that bakery, the bouquet of roses that couldn’t be cheap, a nice dinner he insists he can pay for every once in a while. and then it starts to get bigger: fancy tea from the side of town neither of you even think about shopping at, perfume from a brand you can’t even pronounce, a necklace that’s more than what you can afford yourself.

it starts out slow, and then all at once, wriothesley has what you imagine to be more money than he knows what to do with. because why else spoil you like this? why else blow money on things for you when he could be putting it towards himself?

not everyone gets to have a head start at life—wriothesley is proof of that. it’s hard, more than most people realize, to be orphaned so young and move through foster home after foster home. he’d gone to jail once too—he doesn’t talk about that either, and you never ask. it’s hard, more than anyone gives him credit for, to be knocked down by life so many times and make a living for yourself.

you can’t understand where the sudden change comes from, can’t pinpoint where along the line he started getting so comfortable. it’s not unwelcome, you would never want to watch him just barely scrap by, but it concerns you how he seems to have so much all at once.

and then you get your answer.

“what—what happened to you?” you ask in disbelief, eyeing the blood caked by his nose and around his knuckles. that’s the best of it, unfortunately—the gashes on his chest and the bruises somehow look even worse.

you’d consider him lucky that his ribs don’t seem cracked.

“just a fight,” he shrugs, not meeting your eyes. wriothesley is a lot of things: resourceful, conniving at times, and braver than most. good at lying is not one of them, however—at least not with you. “just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“where were you, then?” you challenge, staring at him hard enough that he doesn’t have to meet your eyes to shuffle uncomfortably in his spot. he doesn’t answer. you’re almost fed up. “wriothesley,” you say in a warning tone.

there’s a sense of finality he doesn’t like.

“what happened to wrio, sweetheart? you’re killin’ me here, i come home to you all bruised up and you’re here beating me down harder—”

“wriothesley, i’m worried about you,” you whisper tiredly. it’s defeated—it’s almost helpless. he frowns, finally looking up at you from his place between your legs as you sit on the bathroom counter.

“you don’t have to be,” he mumbles, “i can take care on my own. i always have.”

“there’s no being on your own when we’re together,” you shake your head. your hands fall to either side of your body, shoulders slumping in exhaustion. “don’t you understand? neither of us is supposed to be on our own anymore—not when the other is here.”

“yeah,” he crosses his arms—you try to ignore the wince he lets out as he moves, “and now you’re not handling things on your own anymore. i’m carrying my weight. just need to fight a guy or two.”

“you’re carrying your weight by fighting?” you blink at the realization. he doesn’t look you in your eyes, keeping them trained on the floor again. “oh my god—is that what these are from? because….because you’re fighting some punks in the middle of the night? that’s illegal—and you could get in trouble again—”

he doesn’t seem to like being reminded of his past. that’s clear when he clicks his teeth and glares at you. “and what am i supposed to do, stay cooped up in your place and eat your food?” he asks bitterly, making your brows furrow.

“not necessarily, but you can—”

“what, so i just live paycheck to paycheck and shower at your place and sleep in your bed so my water and electricity bills aren’t too high for the month?”

“wrio—”

“i’m earning, aren’t i? what’s the big deal?”

“the big deal is this,” you wave your hand exasperatedly, tears welling up by the lash line of your eyes as you stare at his bruises with trembling lips, “look at you. it’s not worth it if you come back to me like this.”

“but i come back,” he mumbles, taking your hand—he kisses the knuckles, rubs a rough thumb over the smooth skin before laying your palm against his cheek and sighing. “i always come back.”

you love wriothesley—have since the day you met him, you think. he’s easy to fall for like that, to feel your stomach go in twists and knots every time he makes a sarcastic joke and throws you a charming smile. life has been tough on the man you love, unfairly so. it’s hit him harder and harder and pushed him back to his knees before he ever got a chance to fully stand up.

he’s hitting back, now. maybe in a more literal sense than you’d hoped, but….but maybe you can help him if you can’t change him. maybe you can keep the pieces together until the plaster holds and they’re not so fragile anymore.

“i don’t like seeing you hurt,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss the broken skin on his cheekbone, “you don’t have to do all this. we were doing okay before that.”

we. he shudders at that. it’s always we and never i—even when you did all the heavy lifting. even when he was barely getting by and you were giving more than you should’ve had to, more than he should’ve needed. it’s always we. never i.

you and him.

“i know,” he melts, humming as your fingers thread into his tousled hair, scratching his scalp as he buries his face into your neck, “just let me save a bit more. and then i’ll do something real with myself. i promise.”

you pull away after a bit, taking in every bruise and every cut, every dry patch of blood and swollen patch of skin. it’s shaky at first, your voice when you finally speak.

“‘s all bruised,” you say quietly, running a finger over the marks littering his chest. he’s painfully still—doesn’t move a muscle as you lean in slowly and press a kiss to the purplish stain on his skin, gently trailing them to the next one, and the next one, and the next one. “you don’t deserve all this.”

“yeah?” he chuckles—its breathy, a little strained. your arms loop around his waist and bring him closer, “what a sweet thing,” he coos, “nobody ever treats me so gentle.”

you frown at that. the world is not gentle with wriothesley—you’ll have to be extra gentle to make up for it.

“you’ll be safe? you’ll pull out when it’s too much, right? and you’ll come back? without being too hurt, right? wrio, you can’t—”

“yeah, yeah, i got it,” he huffs, pressing his forehead to yours, letting your hands cup his cheeks. he leans closer to your touch, shudders as you slowly trace his cheek with your thumb, “just wait at home all pretty for me, yeah? i’ll bring you back something nice.”

“bring me back yourself in once piece,” you huff.

“done,” he smiles, “i’m strong, if you haven’t noticed.”

“yeah? explain this,” you challenge, pressing down on a bruise and making him wince.

“you should see the other guy,” he whines, burying his face back into your neck. you roll your eyes, there’s a scoff in your throat but a smile on your lips.

wriothesley is safe—for now, that’s all you can ask for.

“i love you,” you mumble, “so much. no matter what, okay?”

“no need to get so emotional on me, baby,” he chuckles—and then there’s a tightening of strong arms around your body, a kiss pressed delicately to your neck before a soft, “but i love you too” is murmured into your skin.

“i hope you’re ready to clean those cuts. they’ll sting for sure,” you grumble as you pull away. he grins—handsome, charming, yours.

“will you kiss them better?” he bats his lashes, making you snort.

“no.”

i might make this a reoccurring drabble series too idk yet. anyway you know what else he can beat up ?? this pussy ;)

[choso4u]

Men who would mock you for cumming so fast. "Aw, felt so good you cummed so soon? You really are a cockwhore aren't you?" Thrusting harder and faster into you, making your whole body tremble due to the overstimulation. Bringing one hand to rub your clit harshly, just to see you sob and get ruined underneath them, trying to push them away. Ripping orgasm after orgasm out of you, ignoring your pleas of 'stop' and 'no more'. They won't stop until you're limp, until you can't say anything, much less form a word, until they're the only ones left in your tiny fucked out brain.

geto, GOJO, TOJI, choso, SUKUNA, tartaglia, ALHAITHAM, wriothesley, AYATO, KAEYA, argenti, BLADE, jing yuan, WELT

[wormdevourer]

Wriothesley edit I made 🩶🖤