#wriothesley scenarios

[honeykaes]

three rounds

boxer!wriothesley x reader II 3.0k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, boxer! au, modern au, blood, fighting (boxing), rough sex, wriothesley picks reader up, standing full nelson, semi-public sex, creamipes, fingering, overstimulation, dacryphilia, dumbification, childhood friends to lover, secret dating, mention of the criminal justice system, implied family abandonment, unedited

synopsis: you and wriothesley had been best friends for ages. you were there when he broke ties with his rich family, when he failed the police academy and now in his success in the boxing ring. this will be the match to decide if he earns the belt and he wants his cheerleader, whom he's secretly dating, to be there in the front seat to witness it.

The glare from the bright white spotlights made you squint and lift your hand up. Black spots littered your vision as you adjusted and stared down at the ring in front of you. Crowds surrounded the entire ring, cheering and yelping in delight excited for the match getting ready to begin.

This was the final match to determine who received the golden belt any professional boxer in England clawed their way to attain. To get it, they would have to rip it out of the claws of the previous boxing champion, Attainer. This would be no easy feat, but you knew that would not stop him from achieving his goal.

“Now we have the underdog, quite literally! Can we get some noise for the newbie with attitude Wriothesley!” the announcer yelled out from the speakers. As soon as he was introduced, the crowd’s noise grew louder, admiring the man coming out. His short black hair was as scruffy as ever, adorned with streaks of gray he insisted wasn’t from age. His eyes, piercing icy blue, looked to the crowd in determination as he lifted his arm up waving to them and a lopsided smirk.

He was extremely muscular wearing his scars littering throughout his chest, neck, and face with pride. As he slung under the ropes of the rings, he gazed at the crowd once more as they cheered—eyes scanning for someone until they settled on their own. His eyes softened and his smirk grew, winking over to you as your heart fluttered.

“Oh my god! He actually noticed me! This is the best day ever!” a girl cheered behind you. You chuckled to yourself fighting the urge to turn around and spoil her fun. No one in the ring would know that look was for you, and you alone.  

You and Wriothesley have been together for a few years now. You were there when he was at rock bottom and you would be there when he finally took the heavens or himself.

“Round one! Fight!”

You knocked on the shabby door, hearing banging from the other side as your heart pumped in your chest in anxiety. Wriothesley had been avoiding your calls all day since he got out of prison and was under probation. 

“Wriothesley! Open the door!” you yelled out. No response came except for the constant sound of smacking. Your hand grabbed on the handle turning it only for the door to crack open. A yelp escaped your lips watching a cockroach scutter across the floor into the hallway from the hallway. Cursing silently to yourself and surprised Wriothesley still didn’t say anything, you closed the door looking over to see the barren studio apartment.

There was hardly anything in the tiny space beside a mattress that was directly on the floor with some blankets thrown across it, a large bean bag chair to the side, and a large punching bag swinging in the middle of the room. The sound of smacking echoed out once more as Wriothesley continued to punch it, still not facing you.

Earbuds were placed in his ears, your sounds must've been drowned out by how loud he was playing his music. You slowly approached him, calling out his name once more as he continued to ignore you. With a sigh, you placed your hand on his back. He immediately tensed up and he turned around. 

He scowled over to you, frowning prominent on his lips. Bags were under his eye, a fresh cut seemed to linger there too. He must’ve got it before getting out of prison. Your eyes softened in pity and Wriothesley took his earbuds out and sighed.

“Are you okay? You’ve been ignoring me for days since you got out,” you murmured. Wriothesley grumbled under his breath and sighed, wiping the sweat clinging to his brow. He must’ve been exercising for a while now.

“I’m fine. You don’t need to always check on me like you did when we were kids. I’m not the little rich kid trying to understand public school anymore…” Wriothesley muttered. You clinged your tongue, rolling your eyes at his response.

“Yeah, you’re not, which is why I don’t know why you are acting like a kid and avoiding me. We're friends. You got arrested and kicked out of the police academy, of course I want to check in with you and make sure you’re okay. Shit sucks, understatement of the year, but I want to help you through this,” you replied. He doesn’t respond and looks away, eyes narrowing in shame. Your eyes flickered down to his ankle bracelet, blinking. It will be six months before it’ll come off and he'll be free from it.

“Please can you just…” you sighed, “You don’t need to carry all of this by yourself. I’m not going to abandon you no matter how many times you try to push me out. We are in this together. I promised that to you before and I mean it now.”

Wriothesley remained quiet walking over to his mattress before collapsing on him, the springs creaking loudly as they adjusted to the new weight. 

“Frankly, I’m not sure why you seem so adamant about staying beside me. Why? Do you got a crush on me or something,” Wriothesley murmured, covering his eyes with his hand. There was a pause as you struggled to say anything and simply looked away. Noticing you not saying anything, Wriothesley uncovered his face looking over at you in shock before it softened. A chuckle soon rattled throughout the tiny studio apartment.

“Ah, I guess that explains it then, huh?” he murmured, looking over to his hand covered in sports tape. He flexed his fingers, pondering the words he wanted to say to you as butterflies flew throughout your stomach. Was he going to send you out? Was he going to pretend you didn't say anything?

“...I don’t regret going to jail for what I did. I know what I did wasn’t wrong but naturally bastards with more money than me can get away with it and paint me as the villain to absolve them from their crimes,” he murmured getting up in front of you.

“I’m not going to let that stop me though,” he murmured. The pitter-patter of the rain outside hit the window as Wriothesley chuckled once more.

“London is like this, gloomy, gray with pricks who take advantage of the disadvantaged. This city eats up anyone they can. I don’t plan on being part of the menu. Something good will come out of all this shit…” he murmured. His fingers lifted your chin and a soft smile curled on his once serious expression.

“Besides, I think things are shaping up positively in some ways already. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Once his probation period ended, Wriothesley went to the gym often to clear his mind when he wasn’t working at his part-time contracting job. He wanted to join an amateur boxing ring, only for his skills to gain the attention of recruiters looking for more talent in the professional ring.

Signing on to a team and management, Wriothesley quickly flew through opponents. The crowd had deemed him as “Cerberus” for his scruffy yet handsome appearance along with his famous three-punch combo. 

It had been three years since you two started this journey and this match would show if it was worth it. 

“Ooh! The Attainer got a left hook to connect the frazzling crowd favorite! Can the doggie get out of this or will the beat finally get tamed!”

You snapped out of your thoughts, clenching your jaw seeing Wriothesley stagger from that hit. Blood began to dribble from his lip. A flash of anger shot through his eyes as he glowered at Attainer with frustration. As Attainer went for another blow, Wriothesley swiftly dodged to the left. Time for the final round was ticking down quickly, he’d need to make this count if he wanted to win.

Dodging another attack and seeing an opening, Wriothesley quickly rushed his gloved fist forward connecting it to the champion, Attainer. 

“One,” he muttered, drowned out by the deafening noise and muffled from his mouthguard. Seeing the opening swift to try to adjust, Wriothesley refused to let him, connecting another punch in the stomach to his opponent. Attainer gasped, the wind knocked out of him from the blow. 

“Two,” he grunted, dodging another desperate blow from Attainer. With one more opening he saw, Wriothesley went in again connecting his final blow to Attainer’s face.

“Three!” he grunted. Attainer staggered, body fumbling to the ground as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. The referee sprung from outside the ring, smacking his hand down to the side of the opponent, counting those three numbers. Wriothesley stood to the side, chest gleaming in the stage light from his sweat as the crowd cheered in bewilderment and excitement. 

“TKO!!”

Roars of cheers echoed throughout the stadium. You couldn’t stop grinning, joining in the celebration as Wriothseley lifted his arm up signaling his victory against the champion. Flashes of light flickered off as press and camera from fans, sports journalists, and anyone wanting to gobble every opportunity and second, they could to get this shot. His eyes wandered to yours, smiling wide as you gave a small wave back.

As a camera quickly came into the ring, a microphone shoved in his face to conduct the first interview of the new champion, you slowly got up from your seat and the chaotic cheers of the stadium and headed to his private quarters in the locker room to wait for him. 

Thirty minutes went by before the door flew open and slammed shut as he entered. As soon as his eyes met yours, he walked up to you, arms wrapping you in a tight hug. You chuckled, wrapping your arms around Wriothesley’s torso, smelling the sweat wafting from him.

“I told you doll,” Wriothesley smirked, as you chuckled once more.

“You did!” you chimed with a wide smile. Wriothesley leaned in close, lips millimeters away from one another.

“And you know what I want more than anything,” he whispered, capturing your lips. His hands settled against your ass, squeezing the soft globes as you gasped, placing your hands on his. He massaged it, tapping it as he finally let your kiss go—a translucent string of saliva connecting your now glossy lips with his.

“W-What?! What if someone sees us? You built your reputation back up just to risk destroying it with a stupid scandal. ‘New champion has a partner caught fucking in the stadium!’ The press will eat us alive,” you stammered out. Wriothesley chuckled lowly, nibbling your earlobe.

“If they give me shit, who cares? It’s my managers who thought it best to keep our relationship a secret. I should get to celebrate how I see fit. They get their win and I get you, everyone’s happy,” Wriothesley whispered, grinding his hardening cock against your leg. You sighed at his response.

“What am I going to do with you,” you muttered. You gasped as Wriothesley smacked his palm down on your ass —the sting of dull pain shooting through your body.

“Fuck me, that’s what.”

Wriothesley brought his lips down to yours once more, the adrenaline from the match still coursing through his veins. He takes his shorts off, heavy cock popping up and rolling against his chiseled abdomen. It lulled to the side against his black happy trail, flushed tip already budding with precum as veins pulsated throughout the thick flesh.

You lowered yourself on your knees, grabbing onto his length as he sucked a sharp breath in. You smeared the precum, finger playing with his sensitive tip. You pumped a few times before opening your mouth and taking him into your mouth. The familiar salty taste of sweat and precum hit your tongue as you bobbed your head.

“Aww, giving me a little reward? You shouldn’t have,” he teased, grabbing a fistful of your hair. Your tongue swirling along the tip, sucking hard as Wriothesley’s body shuttered and hips slightly faltered. His nails dug into his thick thighs, trying to contain himself as you continued to suck and swirl against him.

“That’s it. Open up a little wider for me lovely,” he murmured, using his other hand to tap at your throat. He used the grip he had on your hair to sink you further down his cock. You fought the urge to gag, but he had trained your throat to fight against the feeling. You soon completely had his entire length down your throat, nose brushing against the thick hair of his bush.

He pulled them away, as an audible pop echoed throughout the small room while you caught your breath. Drool leaked from the side of your mouth, eyes watching as Wriosthelsey continued to jerk at his cock. It twitched in his grasp.

“Open your mouth for me like the good doll you are,” he murmured. You obeyed, opening your mouth wide as a low groan ripped from his lips, tip hovering over it. Globs of cum shot from him, falling on your tongue as you resisted the urge to spit or swallow. His hips shuttered, bucking a few times before he finally began to soften and leaned over wiping some that managed to spill out on the corner of your lips.

“Swallow for me…” he cooed. His smirk widened watching your throat bobbed as you did, trying not to shiver from the taste. 

“So good for me. Get up. I think it’s time for the spotlight to be shared,” he murmured as you got on your feet. His hands gripped your bottoms pulling them down and onto the ground, before your underwear went with it. He haggardly popped a few buttons off from your blouse, showing off a bit of your chest to him. You could feel him beginning to grow against your thigh. 

“Wriothesley!” you yelled out, as he lifted you up. His hardening cock slides against your drooling slit, gathering up the slick clinging onto your cunt. He does this growing harder before he’s finally fully erected once more. Wriothesley hooked his forearm against the back of your knees and leaned against the wall before he sank into the warmth of your cunt—roughly plunging inside of you.

You moan in surprise at the position, your body bouncing from his quick thrusts. Objects hung on the wall bang to his pace as the sound of smacking skin reverberated throughout the locker room. 

He finally put one of your legs down, in the process reaching deeper inside of you as your body jolted in pleasure. With his now free hand, he moved his palm striking your needy clit—the shock of the pain and pleasure caused your walls to flutter down on his cock, as he groaned in delight.

“You like that, I felt just how tight you gripped me just now,” he cooed, nibbling against your neck. His fingers continued to toy with your clit, rubbing tight circles and occasionally smacking his fingers down on it. Your body shivered at the simulation he was giving you, cock brushing against the spot that made you see stars.

“Fuck! Wriothesley. There, there! There!” you babbled out, tears beginning to prick your eyes.

He shifted his position and grip on you, turning you around so your back was to the wall and keeping you up with one hand gripping tightly against your ass. Your legs had instinctively wrapped around his waist, allowing him to rut against that spot with more precision. His eyes lingered on your chest, admiring the flash of your pebbled nibble that would greet him with every bounce of your body.

His hand grasped your jaw, his blunt nails digging to the sides of it,

“Gonna cum for me? Yeah?” he murmured, brushing his thumb against your bottom lip as you rapidly nodded, tears beginning to cascade down your face. He grunted, feeling your walls cave in making it harder to continue to buck inside of you.

“Show me how good a champion’s cock is then,” he grunted. With more nodding and babbling of his name, your eyes rolled to the back of your head—body arching as you finally reached your high, shivering in pleasure.

Wriothesley pistoning his hips sloppier, let out a low moan of your name before shutting his eyes and connecting his lips with your own. His hips faltered, ropes of cum spilling inside of you and filled you to the brim with his essence.

Lifting his head up, he chuckled noticing your fucked-out and tired expression moving your body in his arms before placing you down on the couch. He admired your chest slowly rising from your chest, eye makeup messed up and smeared from your tears.

“Sorry, was that too much for you,” he murmured with a smile, leaning down to kiss your forehead. He went over and put his shorts on, tucking his softening cock beneath it. You groaned, lolling your head to the side as Wriothesly approached you again. His cum was beginning to leak down your thighs. He couldn’t stop himself from pumping two fingers into your overly sensitive cunt, pushing his cum back inside of you as you whimpered at the sensation.

“Don’t worry. Just rest here and we can leave afterward for dinner, if you’re still up for it that is,” Wriothesley murmured. A knock on the door caught his attention as he got up and walked over to the door, cracking it so your form was completely hidden by his stature. He scowled, only for his gaze to turn to shock seeing Clorinde, his manager glare at him. She let out a side, crossing her arms.

“Next time you plan on fucking your partner, please do it when I don’t need something in the locker room, that is not ours I’d like to add, and have to wait elsewhere until you’re done to do so. The papers are on the table, I expect to see them on Friday when you show up for our press briefing,” she grumbled before walking away.

Wriothesley chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“My bad, Clorinde…”

[haruchuiyo]

sleepy activities

After prioritizing work for a while, of course your husband misses you, in every way possible.

content: MINORS DNI! NOT SFW! + somno (consensual) + fem!reader + established marriage + reader wears a nightgown + mating press + no protection + kissing + consent is sexy!!!

word count: 2.7k

the paragraphs in italics are for what happened in the past.

—

You hear the familiar steps of your husband. Your ears perk up and you immediately start walking in a haste. You know where he is by the scent of his cologne and the way he seem to make rustling sounds. When you arrive at his office, he stops whatever he’s doing when you reach him. He immediately turns around, his entire face lightens up.

“Hey sweet doll, I missed you.” He says, hugging you close to himself. Standing on your toes, you wrap your arms around his neck, keeping him closer. You feel him inhaling your scent by your neck before letting out a slight groan. “And hi to you.” You say back, softly scratching his the back of his neck.

“What were you looking for, wrio?” You ask curious as to the rustling noises he made. He pulls his face away from his place at your neck. He sighs, scratching his head at your question.

“Some folder on one of our prisoners at the fortress. He’s claiming he got rights for whatever stunt he pulled.” Your husband looks tired, there’s some slight darkness below his eye. His hair which is usually so refined is ruffled. You reach your hands up to his hair and softly put them back to place. Wriothesley closes his eyes, enjoying your touch. He slips his hands down to your hips and holds you there.

It’s been like this for a dozen days. Wriothesley comes home when he forgets something, comes home late but you’re already asleep. And he’s gone when you’re awake. The few times you get to see your beloved husband is the times he is forgetful. While it’s not his fault his workload has increased nowadays, you do wish he put aside some time for you.

“I’m sorry for not being home so often, angel but i promise you, once this workload is gone, I will be at your side as soon as possible.” He sounds guilty and sad, you know he misses you a lot as well. By how he sometimes sends Sigewinne to give you letters he wrote for you, or small batches of flowers with cards of affirmation written on it.

“It’s fine, just do your job and come home to sleep.” You reassure him, leaning your head up for a kiss which he gladly gives you. You miss his lips and his kisses so much, there were a lot of them before his very busy days. So you take this chance you have and deepen the kiss. Wriothesley lets out a soft groan into your mouth as his hold on your hips turns tighter.

Wriothesley is much taller than you, forcing you to stand on your tiptoes even more to reach him. His hands now softly caressing your backside, lifting you up to gently pin you against the nearest furniture. He tastes of his favorite black tea and you lightly smile into the kiss. Of course your husband drinks tea at the fortress.

Soft and gentle against your lips, he deepens it. It was tender and lovely. His mouth moves against yours for a few seconds more before he slightly pulls away to nip on your lower lip, softly peppering kisses down to your jaw. Before his lips lands back on yours again, this time fervently. Your hands trail up to this hair and when he moves his tongue against yours as he gives your ass a soft squeeze, your moans are muffled against his mouth. He pulls away, a string of saliva separating you both.

“I don’t wanna go.” He mumbles against your mouth, softly pecking it. His grip on your ass is rough but it’s nothing you can’t handle. “You can’t leave your duties at the Meropide.” You tell him gently. He chuckles. “I have duties as a husband for my wife, don’t I?” He says, his voice a deep lower as he softly nips on your lower lip. You softly groan as he grins at you.

“Go before I keep you here and make our home our own Fortress of Meropide.” You tell him, pushing him away but to not avail, the behemoth of a man in front of you doesn’t move an inch. You pout at his strength as he grins at you. He takes your hand against his chest.

“I will be back.” He tells you before he is lightly planting gentle kisses on your knuckles.

—

Taking a break from his duties, he enters his office, placing his documents on the nearest table and he thinks of you. He feels like the worst husband ever, leaving his dear precious wife at home alone, even if she has the company of her friends or the occasional staff that comes to clean and cook if you so desire, he knows you. You get lonely and so does he. All he wants right now is to be with you. To hug your precious body against his scarred one, feel your hands comb through his hair, giggling as he playfully tickles at your most sensitive spots.

Or the soft sighs and moans that escapes your lips when he touches your sweet spots, the way you’d wrap your thighs around his body and squeeze him when you feel so good. Wriothesley feels himself start heating up, from his head to his crotch and he lightly quickly adjusts himself while breathing in and out. He quickly downs his already cold tea and winces at the bitter taste. He misses you restlessly.

Hours after, he realizes how little work he has left and its matters he can attend to another time, he sighs in relief. He reads the last content of his documents and signs it before quickly leaving the office. Hurriedly telling Sigewinne ‘good job for today’, he puts on his jacket and heads home, wanting to see and touch you.

—

When he gets home, he immediately goes for your shared bedroom. When there, he sees you asleep on the bed, snoring softly which Wriothesley finds so endearing. The way your arms are spread out around the pillow is such a cute thing to witness. He takes off his gear and clothes, changing into his nightshirt and breeches before he joins you in bed.

When he gently pulled off the cover off your body, he sees the white nightgown you’re wearing. It caresses your body so finely, the way it rode up thighs and showed your lace undergarment, his heart pounded quickly against his chest and when he sees you move in your sleep to adjust your position to sleep on your side, the nightgown rises up even more and reveals your more of your thighs and backside. You looks so beautiful. Your hairs disheveled and your chest rises in even beats.

Wriothesley tells himself to not wake you up and let you be asleep. You’ve had a long day. He can’t wake you just because he feels needy for you but he do remember the time you gave him consent for that.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying, angel.” Wriothesley asks when you two were in bed, limbs tangled together after having such an intimate time.

“I’m saying, if you ever wish to for your own needs, when I’m asleep.” How bad is it to explain you’re giving consent to your husband to take you when you’re asleep, to the point you can’t even form a proper sentence. Did it make sense? Maybe not, but hearing your own words out loud feels embarrassing and with your husbands piercing look as he raises his brow at you, has you wanting to melt into a puddle.

“You’re saying, you wish for me to take you as you’re asleep.” He says.

“Yes- no! I mean yes!” You widen your eyes. You just said exactly that, why are you surprised? You internally hit yourself on the head. Your husband laughs and presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’re too sweet, dear wife.” He hugs you to himself.

“Well, now you know I’ve given you the green flag to do so if you ever wish to.” You mumble against his bare chest as he chuckles at you again.

But what if he just touched you a little? Surely that won’t wake you up?

So he lays down, chest pressed up against your back and he hugs your form to himself. He smiles to himself when you nuzzle your body into him, even in your sleep you also crave his touch and warmth. He slowly places his hand on the inside of your thighs and at the touch you lightly squirm in your sleep. He continues when he knows the situations clear. He trails his hand up slowly and touches your cunt over your undergarment and his breath hitches.

He remembers your times together, how you took him so well and how good you felt wrapped around him. Your soft whimpers and cries for him and your tight grasp on his shoulders, arms and neck and everywhere on his body.

He gulps down on air before he raises your nightgown up, over your abdomen and stops close to your chest. And he is touching your soft breasts and he groans at the feeling. You’re so soft and perfect in his hand. Lightly squeezing it and run his thumbs over the nipple, he hears a sigh leave your lips.

He buries his head softly in your neck when he reaches his other hand down to your lace undergarment. And slides it down and gently moves his clothed erection against you. He feels your bare cunt on his fingers and he holds himself back from doing anything too rough to you in your sleep. He softly rubs circles on your clit, hearing you let out soft whines in your sleep, gently rocking against his hand. And he slips in a finger and one more, lightly moaning against your neck feeling how tight you are just around his fingers.

He pulls down his own breeches, getting on top of you between your legs. He sees you mumble in your sleep, eyes scrunched tight before he sees you slowly open your eyes.

Warmth. Is what you felt as you slowly woke up. That same warmth is still clinging onto you as you stretch your arms around and are met halfway, as your hands accidentally pushed against somebody. Somebody.

You recoil first, adjusting your sight, feeling that somebody’s shoulders and how they’re pushing your white nightgown up your body. When you breathe in the familiar scent, you stopped grabbing onto your husband and instead just flash him a tired smile.

“I’m so sorry, sweet girl.” He says as he keeps you in place by holding onto your hips with his one hand, while the other is lining his cock up to your heat. You moan as you felt him slowly fill you up, still not used to his size no matter how many times you’ve done it with Wriothesley.

“Hmm, it was about time, really.” You giggle, thinking about he apologized but still is doing it. It’s quite cute to you somehow.

Sparks buzzes up in your body, he’s slowly about to fuck you in your half asleep state. You wrap your hands around his neck and pull him in closer. He presses kisses on the corner of your lips, your jaw while he waits for you to adjust to his size. When he feels you snap your thighs around his waist, he starts moving his hips against yours. Choked gasps slips past your mouth, into the kiss he’s giving you.

His knees press into the mattress, hitting the back of your thighs the more the thrusts into you. Your body shifting the more he moves, his cock hitting you blindly but so good inside you. Shooting streams of pleasure throughout your body as he whispers sweet words by your ear, telling you how such a good of a wife you are, how good you feel, how much he missed you.

“Been dreaming about this, hearing your sweet voice as you take your husband like the good girl you are.” He groans when he feels you scratch your nails down his nape to his back below his night shirt.

In the late night, it’s just you and your Wriothesley. Your sleep gone and nonexistent but only the raw ecstasy as his body moves against your own. The sensation of the heat radiating from your bodily connection, pressure and the exhales of your husband above you. You realize as you grab onto him, he’s wearing his nightshirt, you giggle amidst all it.

“So you came home and wished to already have me?” You tease him as he chuckles, one hand reaching up to hold your face, pressing a hard kiss against your lips. “Couldn’t resist, you look ravishing in this nightgown.” He tells you before kissing down your jaw as his hips moves against you.

Your giggle quickly gets replaced with a choked moan when he hits a spot inside you, tears well up in your eyes, biting down on your lower lip and take in all the pleasure only your husband can give you.

So you squeeze your thighs tighter around his waist, locking him deep inside you while you clench down on him as you moan the more he hits inside you. When he shifts his weight on you, he slides in deeper, stroking places that have only known his pace. When he momentarily moves completely out of you, leaving you whimpering, burning for him to come back inside you, he slides in a little rough, letting the tears fall down your eyes.

“Oh sweet doll, I know I know.” He coos as you whimper out noises while holding onto him like he was your anchor. His thrusts are so precise, with every thrust more shoots of ecstasy fills your body up. All you could do is squeeze your thighs around Wriothesley, hearing him moan from above you.

He grabs onto your thighs and presses them against your chest, fucks into your harder and you dig your fingernails into his back and push the heel of your feet into his back with each thrust.

Wriothesley’s grip on your thighs loosens, his hips faltering with each thrust but still thrusting, you could feel yourself on the verge of reaching raw ecstasy. Clamping down on him as soon as you feel it, your thighs twitch and a choked moan leaves your lips as you feel yourself come. Not too soon after, your husband joins you, not before he forces your legs apart and sitting upright still inside you. Hitting one last hard thrust, he moans as the tip of his cock hits the sweet spot inside you and he fills you to the brim with his cum. His grip on your thighs was tight, digging his own fingernails in your skin.

Then you feel his mouth on yours, giving you a quite a literal breathless kiss. Just a few seconds after, you pulled away as you breathe against his mouth hardly, feeling his panting against you as well. Then he flashes you a big grin.

His big grin is visible with the help of the moon light lighting up the bedroom through the window curtains. And you see his messy grey-black hair, sweat on his forehead and the way his chest is rising up and down so fast, you’d think his lungs would burst out of its place.

Then he playfully peppers kisses all over your face, making you giggle and taking your lips in for a quick sweet kiss. All while still lodged inside you.

“I’d wear this nightgown every day if it means you’d take me like this.” You grin at him and he chuckles. He lightly kisses your nose before you see a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Oh dear wife, you could wear a sandbag and i’d still ravish you like you’re my last meal.” At his corny words, you couldn’t help but laugh but still feel flustered at how he’d still want you despite wearing unflattering things.

“This nightgown looks so beautiful on you, I’d love to see you twirl in it for me.”

—

WELL DID YOU TWIRL FOR HIM? YES OR YES?🗣️

if you came this far and enjoyed it, reblogs would be so much appreciated 🩷

[koenigami]

you're so used to his presence that his absence scared you

It’s one of those nights in which the lands of dreams seem so far away. Your eyelids feel heavy, your eyes burn, and you would think sleep will soon, in the next few minutes or even seconds wash over you. But it never comes.

It’s funny, you think. One night. Just one night that he isn’t lying there beside you, and all of a sudden the thoughts and fears in your mind are too loud. The tumult in your head makes your limbs fidget as you keep tossing and turning, sighing and groaning while you wonder if you’ll even be able to fall asleep tonight. The silly thought of if you’ll actually ever be able to fall asleep again passes your mind, and as ridiculous as it sounds, in your tired and miserable state it is a concern that makes you tear up a little.

You try to imagine his arm thrown around you, the heaviness of it pressing into your side, the warmth of his hand as it settles beneath your chest so that you can hold onto his forearm.

But it’s not there. Your bedroom feels cold and dark without him. An ever consuming darkness that plays tricks on you and turns every shadow into a menacing figure. Every creak and groan of your old floorboards and furniture makes you flinch, wrapping your blanket tighter around you and higher up to your chin as if it could shield you from the inexistent danger that your brain has come up with.

You realise that sleeping without him feels like living without oxygen. It’s not possible.

A new case. A new detainee. Too much paperwork. You wonder if he’ll even come home tonight. What if he just crashes on the couch in his office? He will surely-

And then there’s another creak outside your bedroom, somewhere in the hallway. You tense, hold your breath and don’t dare to inhale or exhale, all while keeping your eyes fixated on the door. Steps. They’re slow and calculated, and you surely would not be aware of them if you were asleep. But you’re not. And your brain isn’t either because it tells you to run, hide, fight, and you’re not sure in which order.

With wide eyes and the blanket up to your nose, you watch the knob turn and the door opens slowly. More darkness flows into the room followed by another large, imposing shadow. All you hear is your deafening heartbeat until there’s a familiar clinking of metall. His handcuffs.

You follow Wriothesley’s figure as he navigates through the bedroom. Like every other night, he puts his keys and handcuffs on the nightstand, he changes into comfortable pyjama pants, he shortly leaves the room to wash his teeth, and eventually the mattress dips and you swear you can feel the warmth radiating off him.

“Y/n?” you hear him whisper in surprise. “Sweetheart, why are you awake?”

He lies down and you instinctively snuggle against him, like a moth being attracted by the light, your body gravitates towards his and his to yours. Your eyes close briefly when he cups the side of your face, his thumb gliding back and forth over your skin.

You shrug sheepishly. A moment of silence passes while you think about whether you should say it or not, but you do.

“Can’t sleep without you.” As if two little children sharing a secret between each other during their first sleepover, Wriothesley and you look at each other. The streetlights from outside shine on his eyes as he moves his head, allowing you to catch a glimpse of the fondness with which he’s looking at you.

And as if not sure how to answer, the chuckle vibrating through his chest echoes in the room. “Missed me that much?”

He nudges your forehead with his, and you can’t control your hands when each of them settles on one cheek of his as if they have a mind of their own.

He has shaved today, you note, feeling the softness of his skin beneath your palms.

“More than you know.” It’s another secret, another whisper that carries so much weight, Wriothesley feels like you might as well have just shouted it at him.

There’s a shriek followed by giggles and laughter when he turns his head to nibble on the inside of your hand before enveloping you in an almost suffocating embrace. You can’t remember the thoughts that have been keeping you awake when he holds you against his chest like that, with your ear right above his heart. You forget about the noises and fear that made you shake like a leaf before he arrived, because somehow it’s not as dark as before.

“I love you, Y/n.”

Because somehow it’s always better when he’s around.

[byizoyas]

DECEMBER 4TH. — streets by doja cat

nsfw | afab!reader | jealous!wrio | smut | car sex

the party you were holding for your birthday was going great, many people seemed to be having fun and despite your boyfriend not being with you yet, you found it quite entertaining.

you spent pretty much your whole night with another man, laughing at his jokes and giggling at his flirting skills.

you had to say, wrio and you never made your relationship official. and if you used to consider him your boyfriend, he wasn’t yet.

perhaps his single text warning you he’d be late was enough to make you think of testing him. after all, you were already pretty annoyed of how careless he could be sometimes and his absence wasn’t helping his case.

only after a few ten minutes more of waiting, did you glance over the counter, and noticed that he had arrived at last. but you ignored the look you two shared and instead of welcoming him, focused back on the guy who was obviously more than interested in you.

his hands found their way to your hair, caressing them softly. ‘you’re beautiful’ he even said, before lowering his touch towards the bottom of your back, sending a few shivers down your spine.

‘come with me.’ wrio said, taking your hand in his. he had just interrupt the moment you were sharing with the other man and you quite liked to see him get so jealous.

he tried to speak softly but his natural leader aura somehow made him feel really strict; as if he was commanding you to follow him.

‘what are you doing ?’ you finally managed to ask him when the two of you got inside his car, isolated from the rest of the guests, and all alone together.

‘mh?’ you insisted before feeling his lips on yours, stealing you a kiss, but despite being interrupted twice you didn’t mind it.

his lips were soft, his tongue caressing yours felt warm and hot, genuinely arousing you.

‘wrio…’ you moaned between two kisses, when his head buried into your neck, planting several kisses and licking your skin.

‘stop okay ! talk to me. what‘s gotten into you?’ you asked, pushing his head away from your body.

his staring was so intense, you felt your cheeks burning. ‘i want you.‘ he whispered and a smirk slowly formed on your glossy lips.

‘you want me huh ? and do i want you ?’ you teased him, you loved to do that and he found it quite cute how you tried to hide your desire but somehow failed.

he smiled. ‘i know you do.’ he opened his shirt, showing off his muscles. the scars on his chest made him even hotter and how you wished to kiss every single scar on his body, as you knew he loved it.

wrio never said it but he actually liked pretty much everything as long as you were the one doing it. and right now he expected you to touch him.

‘so ? what do you say ?’ he said as he unzipped his pants, freeing his hard cock from his underwear.

‘you’re so fucking annoying.’ you grumbled, pushing him back on his seat, slowly moving to sit on his lap. ‘no more teasing. fuck me.’ you commanded him, taking off your dress to be more comfortable to move.

‘as you wish’

a loud moan escaped your mouth when he first thrusted into your tight pussy. ‘mhh wrio~~ let me lead please’

to that he simply put his hands on your waist, guiding your moves, following your rhythm as you bounced up and down his cock.

wrio kissed your hand softly, contradicting with the obscene way he was fucking you. ‘keep moving love, use me like your toy’ he whispered, his voice making you go insane.

‘mhh call me a good girl wrio’ you almost begged for him to call you that way, but he decided not to fulfill your request.

‘good girls don’t fuck in a dirty car, love’ wriothesley pulled your hair, messing up your hairstyle but you couldn’t care less when he made you feel so good ‘you’re a fucking whore, aren’t you ?’

you couldn’t say whether his words were the reasons or if it was just the overall intimate atmosphere surrounding you but you were so close to come that you subconsciously sped up your pace.

you kept on fucking yourself on his thick cock, buried deep into you. the air was filled with the scent of sexual energy, and the only noises that could be heard were your moans mixed to the lewd sound of his balls clapping against your ass.

you were so focused on the moment you didn’t notice the playful smirk wrio wore. little did you know he was actually staring right into the eyes of the man who was trying to seduce you earlier.

and he was showing off, because you were so desperate for his cock while he, was standing alone in the dark, only able to look at you being fucked so hard by another man.

[taintedbenevolence]

WRIOTHESLEY, birthday prompt Summary: Giving a little bit of special treatment to your tired boyfriend Wriothesley on his birthday! Happy (belated) Birthday, Wrio <3

"Mmh.. just a little higher," your love murmurs, his face resting comfortably on your lap whilst he comfortably nuzzles himself closer to your body, chest rising and falling slowly, signaling his comfort and relaxed state. He lazily smirks at you as you continuously scratch his scalp soothingly.

You can't help but smile softly at the sight of it. It's endearing, really — your commanding, intimidating, and powerful boyfriend, lord and Duke of the Fortress of Meropide — all snuggled up to you like a big, fluffy puppy asking for attention. And as if it weren't enough to warm your heart, the way his tired, half-lidded icy hues gaze at you lovingly with a glint of contentment is enough to bring a smile to your lips and send your heart into a frenzy.

His hair is so soft, you think, whilst Wriothesley just lies down completely comfortable, almost treating you like his new pillow, to which he knows you certainly wouldn't mind.

"You comfortable, Wrio?" you inquire with a smile that tugs at the corners of your lips, to which he chuckles softly. "Very," he replies, eyes closing as he feels your fingers continuing to pass through the soft tufts of his hair, to which he hums in pleasure.

His gaze is loving, and you wish that this moment could really last forever — just one day without having to worry over responsibilities, the fortress, work papers, nothing — it sounds like heaven, to both you and your beloved.

But you know as well as he does that no moment will go on for an eternity. So with that in mind, you've decided to do your best to make this day for him the very best it can be — to shower him with love and affection, one so sweet that he very much craves behind closed doors — so that once this day is over, he rests fulfilled and accomplished.

"Love you so much..." Wriothesley murmurs, a small smile grazing his lips. "You satisfied yet, sweetheart?" he teases, and you shake your head with the same smile adorning your expression. "You're enjoying this more than I am. Just let me shower you in the affection you deserve, love."

And the man chuckles, just leaning further into your touch, in which he melts in so quickly. "Hey," he chimes in a few minutes later, to which you tilt your head, intrigued. "Lie down with me."

Before you can answer and without word, he sits up, takes you into his arms, and then drags you down to the bed you're on as he promptly lies down beside you, hugging you and letting you nestle into his chest. His head rests above yours, and he weaves his thighs around yours, trapping you in his hold as he nuzzles closer to you.

"Let me hold you like this for a while, yeah?" he speaks lowly, his voice tired and rasped as you feel his heartbeat drum in his chest that slowly rises and falls at a rhythmic pace. "You're so soft I could hold you like this forever."

Snaking an arm around your waist, he pulls you closer, leaving little to no space between the two of you. Before long, you can already feel him press a light kiss on the top of your head, and you can picture in your mind the small smile he's wearing.

To him, he needs no material gift on this day to be happy — being around you is more than enough for him — it's a blessing enough as is to be able to have lived thus far. To be beside you, to be able to love you and hold you close is the best gift he could ever have, and his mind already wanders to the future the two of you will have.

You chuckle softly, slightly turning your head to meet his sleepy eyes, and with a smile, you kiss him shortly, quickly burying your face in his neck as your heart warms at the sight of the faint red dusting his cheeks.

"Happy Birthday, Wrio."

"I like signs of strength and hope. They give me reassurance that tomorrow will be better than today. This isn't to be pessimistic, but it's impossible for the present to be without its doubts and troubles — that's just the truth. But come hell or high water, if nothing else then at least we'll be able to figure it out together, right?" — WRIOTHESLEY

[rensblade]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅.

⟢ warnings/notes: wriothesley x fem! reader. suggestive, minors & ageless blogs do not interact. briefly proofread.. this is my first post, so i'd really appreciate any type of feedback! enjoy, and happy (very) late halloween to everyone celebrating ✩

“my.. what big ears you have,” you exhaled with a soft sigh, your hands raking through his two-toned locks as he continued nipping at your your chest. pretty shades of purple love-bites scatter across the canvas laid out to him, and wriothesley places a final kiss onto the last spot, before pulling away to fixate his darkened gaze onto yours.

by now, perhaps you should've been prepared to expect the array of hickeys that would follow; after all, you chose to don a dress with a pretty low neckline, and hence, your tits sat prettily all there for him to just devour.

still, since you asked so nicely, your boyfriend had been more than careful so as to not to rip the fabric of this specific red dress; you wore today in order to match with his costume— you, the red riding hood, as he was supposed to be the big bad wolf tonight.

“all the more to listen to you scream, sweetheart.” wriothesley chuckles against your collarbone as he lets his hold from your waist trail down; cold fingertips trailing ghostly kisses on your skin as his hands slowly make their way under your red dress.

it makes you shudder— how easily he tears apart the lace of your stockings, before he spreads your thighs using one large hand.

the mere action sends your body into a slight arch, as you tighten your claw onto his biceps in anticipation. you struggled to steady yourself on his lap; it didn't help the fact you could feel his length poke at your ass at the very moment. you weren't complaining.

archons, not to mention the mischievous glint of his eye. well. since he was already very much in character, you tug into his fur coat, letting it drop to the floor, agonizingly slow.

pale cerulean eyes remain trained on your face in order to memorize all your reactions into memory. wriothesley wordlessly admires the frustrated pout you give him, upon noticing another layer of clothing clinging onto his muscular chest. the man only laughs, the sound reverberating through both your flushed chests; making you send a small smile his way in defeat.

he was prettiest like this— while you were both mutually worshiping your bodies. although, you admit, he had always remained insistent on doing the most for you, kissing your palms in reassurance whenever he would was done with drawing out countless lewd sounds from you.

arrays of less-than-holy thoughts invade your senses, you couldn't help it. you were desperate to show him how badly you wanted him. how good you could be for him. without much thought, your hands fondle with his upper body as if to urge him on to undress himself.. and you.

“and what big hands you have..”

it's no doubt he catches onto your little game. either ways, wriothesley is more than happy to play right into your hands.

“oh, these?” his mock-interested tone fills the air, the lopsided smile you loved so much making you want to melt into him. “all the more to touch you. like this,” his focus goes back to the hold he had on your thighs, squeezing them softly.

the action makes you bite back a sound, while unsatisfied grunt from him follows, before his grip tightens onto the exposed flesh; his shrewd hands exploring their way down from where you're seated atop him. “and all the more to help undress you.. of course.”

it didn't help how kept whispering all that into your neck, his tone dropping in octave as he too, breathes a bit heavier. your lover's voice was all gruff and delicious from the intense making out you did prior so of course he used it to his advantage. he knew of the effect his voice had on you, sly wolf.

so you only bat your lashes up at him, starry eyes and all, in your little now-bunched-up dress, as you feign innocence in order to ask him the third and final question— your thighs clenching in growing anticipation. his large palm stays slotted in place between them, where they rightfully belong.

you finally ask, in a more dazed manner than you intended to. “my.. and what a big mouth you have, surely not only for all that bragging, i assume?”

wrong move. this time, he doesn't laugh. instead, the man steadies your disheveled form up by the arms, until you feel yourself being dropped onto the soft mattress of his sofa.

it was then, you swear you could've seen wriothesley lick his lips, as he positions himself in between where his hands had been mere seconds ago— as he mumbles under his breath.

"all the more to eat you, my love."

rensblade, 2023. please do not steal my writings or headers, i put a lot of effort into this. reblogs & comments are appreciated! also, my drafts are pretty nonexistent rn so i'd appreciate asks. i will be accepting requests for genshin, hsr, & jjk as of now.

[verxsyon]

·:*¨༺ ❝ 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐓? ❞

wriothesley always wins his bets against you. for this round, the stakes are getting much higher. how long will it take for the captain of the gardes to admit their feelings to the duke? will this be the moment you’ll finally come out victorious, even though you have to pretend that your feelings toward him are in denial?

✧ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. wriothesley x gn!reader

✧ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭. drabble ; 0.6k

✧ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞. coworkers to lovers au ; fluff

✧ 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚. no way, it's almost been a year since i wrote a drabble and for genshin too. wrote this during class today, so it looks pretty rushed lol. this man’s the death of me. he can choke slam me like he did with douchier dougier in his story quest. and no, i’m not sorry for saying that.

A defeated sigh escapes your lips as your cards rain down from your fingers onto Wriothesley’s desk. “Unbelievable. A first-time TCG player beat me in all three rounds. So, what do you want your prize to be? A tea company from the surface?”

“Haha. Your suggestions are becoming more adventurous, captain.” Wriothesley kicks back on his chair with a great idea in mind from the smug smile on his face. “Meet me there at night. You’ll help me sneak in, and I’ll rob its entire collection.”

You narrow his eyes at his sarcasm, and he surrenders. “Alright. I'll settle with a tea cup set. The cups in my current one are broken and the teapot has some cracks, so it’ll be nice to have a new one.”

“Okay, I’ll place an order from the surface and ship it here.” You get up from your seat. “I must head back. The guards could be slacking off as we speak. Excuse me, your grace.” 

“Ah, actually.” You hear the chair scrape the floor and turn to face him, who’s now leaning against the front of his desk. “Before you go, there’s something I need you to investigate.”

“Of course. what is it?” He stops you from coming back to your seat by his hand on your shoulder, making you flinch. His expression’s gone rather ominous, and it stays that way when he leans closer to your ear.

“How long will it take for the captain of the gardes to admit their feelings for the duke?”

You cough violently and push yourself out of his hold. Despite his claims of not being omnipotent, his eyes and ears are everywhere within and beyond the fortress. But why are you still surprised that he’ll find out your feelings toward him eventually?

“Don’t tell me you believe those rumors, your grace?” You boldly deny, but deep inside you already know he totally won’t buy your facade based on your immediate reaction. “I’m assuming that’s what you want me to investigate, so again, please excuse me—”

“You didn’t answer my question, captain.” His fingers glide to your shoulder, akin to caressing it, and the temperature in your cheeks suddenly skyrockets. “So, how long will it take for the captain of the gardes to—?”

“I heard you the first time, your grace,” you say dismissively, screaming at him in your head to let you go back to your station and never talk about this matter ever again. “With all due respect, what’s the meaning of this?”

“Come on. Don’t tell me you already forgot,” he laughs as he goes back to his seat, hands folded on top of his desk. “Wanna bet?”

“This again?” you huff, more worn out from his ludicrous habits since you were stationed at the fortress as its security team. However, this could be an opportunity for you to finally win against him. If he decides to play the game this way, then might as well follow along to ensure your own victory. “Fine, I’ll say never.”

“Oh? No faith in the duke’s capabilities to charm them?” He seems confident with the answer he has come up with. “I’ll say within the next hour or two.”

“Ha! Overestimating the captain’s willpower to not fall for his charms, I see,” you counter, showing off your determination to win. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Alright then, it’s settled.” He shakes hands with you to solidify the agreement. “Oh, and captain? No need for your suggestions for this one. I know what I want as my prize.”

“Oh? And what would that be, your grace?”

Wriothesley just chuckles and tells you the most unpredictable thing that you never imagine being your fate as a loser. “How about a date with the captain themselves?”

[yandere-wishes]

𝓦𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓦𝓸𝓵𝓯

Summary: Heritage pricks Wriothesley like a valley of thrones, it's unnerving to find someone with the same pains. 

Warnings: Yandere Behavior, werewolves, gore, older man/ younger woman if you squint.

January 15th; 12:00 Am  

There's blood on your face and a blade in your hand when Wriothesley first meets you. A body at your feet half gutted and half eaten. If not for the flickering shade of gold in your eyes, he'd have summed you up as just another alleyway murderer. 

Not a monster.

Not a creature he was all so intimately familiar with. 

When you'd first met the Duke of Meropide, there had been a full moon hovering overhead. A little too haunting for your taste. The stars cowered behind heavy clouds as the taste of metal rang in your mouth. His frigid fingers had tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. Tracing it's shell that had yet to lose its unnatural edge. "Qutrub" he mumbles, low and rattling as he drapes his jacket across your shoulders. 

You've yet to tell him that that night still haunts you. Not the blood or the first kill. Not the face of the man as you tear out his intestines with your teeth. No, the nightmares come from his voice, how easily he spoke of the horror you'd turned into. He'd known you before you'd even known yourself. 

His familiarity is what haunts you. 

All too deep and knowing. 

You still shiver when the beast's name leaves his tongue. 

He's blunt and brutal when he tells you of the curse you've inherited. What manner of creature resides within you. He speaks as if he's the Archon of wisdom, all lethal facts and icy truths. You couldn't really speak back then, brain still split between two worlds. Too feral to be human, yet too meek to be a threat. "The first transformation is always the worst, kid. It'll take a while before your mind's set straight again." 

You didn't understand what he meant back then. Too busy focusing on the permanent buzz in your head. It felt like a fever dream, sticky, slow. Your limbs weren't your own and neither were your thoughts. You think you may have collapsed back then. Vaguely recalling the sensation of his calloused palms against your forehead. 

 It's only by the end of a brutal week that you finally realize what his words signified. You're starting to act human again. Morphing back into something normal, something tame. It's only on the seventh day that you remember how to form words. And even then it's only half-slung phrases in your mother tongue. Wriothesley answers when you speak. Mirroring your words, your accent, your tones. That had been around the time you'd begin to understand what he was. What you where. 

Not human. 

Never human. 

 It's another excruciating week before you remember the language of Fontaine.

 Another long endless month until the new moon. 

January 30th; 1:00 Am

There's blood on your hands again, a shade too red to have a name. You stare at the body, his face shredded beyond recognition. 

His bone reverberates between your teeth. Beckoning you to crush it, to crack it open and gulp down the marrow like nectar. 

Wriothesley hums in approval, slinging himself over the ring ropes. The Pankration Ring is abandoned. Reserved only for the warden and his new "pet". It had become routine over the last few weeks, Wriothesley would bring in a "misbehaving" prisoner, some he -and by extension Fontaine - needed gone. And you would take the opportunity to whet your new, primal powers. 

"bloodlust does not define us." He circles you. Predator and prey. "Our kind has existed since the dawn of Tayvat. We're not monsters, although that's what everyone likes to think." he stops, his fangs tickling the side of your neck. As if trying to simulate a reaction, he needs you to feel the antiquity that courses through your blood. To understand where all this is coming from. 

The bone in your mouth cracks, something thick spills out. Just as Wriothesley's fangs pierce your precious flesh. 

"We're not monsters..."

"Not quite" 

January 31st, 11:59 Am

His voice is haunting. It slips into the cracks of your psyche, pulling apart the open wounds until there's enough room for him. Only him. The glib timbre of his voice stalks you through the corridors and past the darken rooms. Slithering over walls and echoing in your skull. Cauterizing doubts of what you are. He needs you to feel his pain. To live with his curse, his blessing. 

There's a window five meters from his office. It's the only time you catch glimpses of the world outside the metal dome. Your mind is fractured now too preoccupied by new sensations and emotions to fully recall anything from the topside world. The blurry scenery has long since faded from your memory.

 Somewhere a clock chimes. You start to race for the boxing ring. 

February 1st, 12:15 Am

You recall the first lesson he ever taught you. Back then you had yet to shed the ferocity running ramped across your veins. Preferring to use your teeth, to tear and sheer, hacking at whatever flesh you could reach.

You lay in a pool of gore, fresh enough to make your mouth water. Still, you keep your eyes locked on him. Longing for some acknowledgments, a shred of affection. 

Wriothesley's shadow is casted above you, white fangs glowing. He looked every bit the predator he'd raised himself to be. "Tired already?" His voice carries a tone of mockery. It's to be expected you guess as you'd laid on the metal floor heaving. Black dots danced across your vision, laughing when you tried to block them out. Wriothsly stands proud, metallic boxing gloves reflecting what little light they can. "We're qutrub's (y/n), not animals. Stop acting like one." 

Today's prisoner had put up a fight. A dirty one at that. His blade had pierced you more times than you dare count. it had been Wriothesley who had finished the job. Who had saved you from your target. A heartbeat later you feel him pulling you up, cradling you in his arms as he departs for his chambers. 

Back then you'd seen him as a predator, a beast. No difference in what he decided to call himself. Now all your eyes can convene is a saint draped in black. Wriothsly wears his heritage on his sleeve. Proud of the beast he has become. Proud of the way his bones rearrange to turn in into something odious, something ethereal. Someday you wish to make him proud. To be the creature he envisions, to be more than a monster, more than a wolf. To be worthy of him. 

"I love you" Wriothesley mutters, warm breath hitting the side of your neck. You wonder if monsters can love if that sentiment isn't stripped from them the moment they grow claws. You think it's ludicrous to believe either of you can still harbor such human feelings.

 The new moon feels like a lifetime away.

Febuary 8th, 2:00 Am

 "Until you learn to control your powers, they'll always reign over you. Never bend to them. Remember they are an extension of you. Not the other way around."

The bloodlust has grown more ferocious as of late. Its vicious howl rings through your head, blocking out Wriothesley's voice. It's a welcomed difference, a much-needed rest from his constant yammering. 

You've taken to hunting for sport. Slaughtering any you can corner, any you can out-match. Cherishing the blood that dries under your nails and the liberating ache of your body after the fact. 

At first, Wriothesley had made a show of decorating his desk with any blood-soaked trophy you'd brought him. Now you think he's growing vexed. 

He has you perched on his lap. Ankle cuffed and chained to the stone floor. A security mechanism he'd insisted on after you'd brought him the heart of the Coupon Cafatria's chef. 

Wriothesley never keeps animals in the fortress. He insists it's cruel to cage such a free thing. You wonder if you'll be the first exception. 

Wriothesley drinks tea religiously. it's the only thing keeping his heritage flowing within his bones. You wonder if the flavored scorching waters keep the violent urges at bay. You wonder if their soothing is all that keeps him from ripping out people's jugulars. 

He offers you a sip from his adorned glass. The tea's aroma is overwhelming, it reminds you of a place you've never been to. It burns your tongue on the way down. Enough to make you consider shattering his cup. 

February 11th, 3:00 am

Wriothesley flinches when he sees the blood coating his hands. Flashes of a hell he'd long since buried flicker through him.

A part of you wishes to tell him that he's clean. That killing isn't a sin. At least not here, not to them. He tells you of the night he first transformed, a tiny boy who, at the time, had only ever pulled his punches. 

He tells you why he killed and maimed, why his powers awakened when they did. "I keep trying to tell you." His words are phantoms, restless spectators that cloud your mind. "We're not monsters, not really. Sure all they see is the bloodshep and claws and they take off running. But the truth is our kind have been guardians and protectors longer than their kind has existed." 

His fingers trace your cheek. Leaving red waterfalls to drip down your chine. You think this is love in its rawest form. You think this is desperation in its strongest form. 

Wriothesley's kisses taste of burnt ice and ash. Filled to the brim with sorrow, too deep to understand. You claw at the back of his neck. breaking skin on a childish whim. Desperate to unleash the monster he insists, doesn't exist.

In a blinded second of rage, of passion, of some emotion, no word could properly describe. He has you sprawled on the cold ground. His body hovering over yours. You see his eyes bleed into the most perfect crimson. You see the monster start to break out. 

Febuary 14th 11:58 Am 

It takes too much effort on his part not to baby you. To remind himself that regardless of your age and lack of experience you are still an adult. He gives up on most days, opting to just cradle you on his lap and hum some forgotten tune until you fall asleep.

Tonight's the new moon. He doesn't know what to expect.

You hear his voice in the back of your head telling you to calm down. 'It's just the way we look, you're alright.' you ignore it favoring the sensation of your claws digging behind your eyes. You feel his claws on your wrist prying your hands away. They cut into your veins and you howl, something inhuman, something feral. 

Wriothesley kisses your eyes, staining his lips a doleful red. He listens to the cacophony of your bones rearranging, cracking, and slipping into their new positions. 

he teaches you how to box. Tells you it's a way to stay in touch with your human side.

he tells you about the murders, about how, even at such a young age, he'd known he was a monster, he'd known his heritage sang hymns of moons and blood between his bones. He tells you how he overcame it, where he became something more than a monster. The stories ease the transition, piquing your interest enough to distract you from the natural way your body bends. 

"I want to be human again" you choke, tears marring your cheeks "I hate this, I hate you. Why couldn't you have left me in that alleyway? Why couldn't you have left me alone!"

Wriothesley's facade cracks, your trained eyes pick up the slightest indication of concern weaving across his face. "They'd have hunted you like a wild animal". "I am a wild animal" You protest. "You should have let them kill me!"

There's blood in the back of your throat, metallic, pungent. It feels like holding the sun between your teeth and letting it burn you from the inside. You wonder when you'll be strong enough to deny the bloodlust, to relish in the transformation. Will a time ever come when all this feels natural? When you're as calm and composed as him?

Wriothesley kisses your forehead. It's the last thing you remember before the world turns red. Your brain and body are no longer your own, governed now by the fanged creature inside you. 

If ever there was a time to die, now's not it. 

Febuary 15th 11:00 Am

You wake up in a soft bed. Wriothesley's arm tucked under your head. Your nails have lost their supernatural edge, you trace stars and moons into his chest absentmindedly. His pale blue eyes, shift to you, shaking off the netherworld they'd been engaged with.

"There's an old story about us." His gaze is as cold as the blizzards of Snezhnaya. "About how we were cursed yet survived. The divine turned us into soldiers, they didn't expect us to thrive."

You used to be a fickle thing, all so arrogant and free. So sure of your place in this world. When did that change exactly? When did the world morph into an endless stream of gore and despair? When did you start hanging onto his every word? Despreat for him, all of him?

"What is a monster anyway" you ask, voice too frail that it cracks when met with open air. "A guardian, an outcast, the child of heroes who shares none of the glory its parents once had." You feel the burn on your tongue from the tea he gave you. Suck on the flesh before replying.

" It's inexperienced shoulders buckling under the weight of duty."

"Maybe" he shrugs, "I guess it could be that too."

Somewhere along the lines, Wriothesley forgot how to love. He's not even sure if he's ever understood the emotion in the first place. Maybe it all comes with being a feral, creature of the night. Maybe it all comes with being born only partially human. He rolls your name off his tongue. Nicking his bottom lip on his fangs.

He wonders if you'll like chameleon or mint tea for breakfast. Or maybe something more bitter. His lips find you delicate ones, an exchange of exhaustion. You're so soft and sweet under him, a stark contrast to the beast he's come to tame. 

Masterlist

[pynkricee]

Lick The Cuffs

Wriothesley During Sex... ◇ ( His Point of View)

So... are you ready??

"Let me make love to you like no one else has, My Love..." I whispered in your ear as I took your hands, cuffing them above your head. My gaze locked onto yours as my lips begin to touch your neck. My hands move down around your breast as I press my body deeply into yours.

"I wanna taste you..." whispering softly, taking my time as I spread your legs apart, my thick hands gripping the outter skin of your thighs.. my thumbs pressing deeply into the bottom corners of your wetness.

You now shake uncontrollably as I begin to breathe heavily from your reaction. I can't help but get turned on from you not being able to move as my jet black cuffs keep you bonded.

"Let me fuck you... please baby..? I moan, I cry in pleasure as I slowly slide my wet, throbbing dick into you wet atmosphere.. My mouth open as you breathe into mine as I begin to move quicker between your paradise.. putting all my pressure on you as I try my best to hold myself up with one hand. My muscles tingle as you clench your legs around my waist. My scars glistened from the sweat dripping from my body. Your body screams as I stroke deeper as your water begins to rain on me. The bed, a rollercoaster, of emotions, sexual tension, as your screams and cries bounce off the walls becoming music to my ears.

"Cum with me baby..." My moans, pleading as I grip your shoulder, feeling your scream and your pressure as your cumming floods me as I throb inside you. I fill you up, groaning as my arm is about to give out as your pussy claims me as yours.

"I Love You Baby..." I whispered in your ear, releasing you from my prison of love and destruction.

" Now... Baby...Let me Love you...."

[2-dsimp]

Popular choice✨

—————————————

—> <Kitsune trait (Immersion): Naturally tap into your Kitsune origin to comprehend the blighted>

{90% success rate}

[You’ve met the criteria!]

————/———/—————

[YOU HAVE 3 IMPORTANT UPDATES!]

View Player stats window?

—> (Yes) —> [No]

————/———/———

Main mission: Escape the pocket dimension!

—> [Completion bar: 10%]

—-//———————//———

1st objective: Infiltrate the yokai

—-//———————//———

—> Sub-objective: <SuRvIvE the Judge>

{CLEAR conditions:Prove that you’re not a threat}

—> You’re close to clearing your objective!

—-//———————//———

Current location: [Fontaine] {Warden’s office}

—-//———————//———

<Neuvillette <The Hydro Dragon>

—-//———————//———

[Relationship: Strangers]

Affection lvl: 🔒 [Censored]

Suspicion lvl: 10/30 {His suspicion has decreased -5.}

Envy/Insanity: 🔒 (Requirements unfulfilled)

—-//———————//———

<Wriothesley <The ??? Warden>

—-//———————//———

[Relationship: Strangers]

Yokai type: ??? (Currently Undiscovered)

Affection lvl: 🔒 [Censored]

Suspicion lvl: 30/50 {His suspicion has decreased-5}

Envy/Insanity: 🔒 (Requirements unfulfilled)

—-//———————//———

The hydro dragon proposes an request. Due to your record of remaining mostly truthful throughout the span of their questioning. He has gained some trust in you.

Wriothesley is a bit stunned at the sudden request, however he merely sighs, crossing his arms in a resigned manner. Mauling over the prospect of you helping them.

Neuvillette patiently awaits your response to his daring request. all he wants is to protect his land from those who dare to cause harm.

—-//———————//———

<ALERT>

You’ve tapped twice into your Kitsune side! You’re going through a metamorphosis. The top of your head is feeling a bit heavy…

<NOTICE!>

You’ve been diagnosed by Neuvillette with the starting stages of Blight Syndrome that he had caught onto once he familiarized himself with your scent within the wardens office.

—-//———————//———

<WARNING>

Neuvillette asked you for an important request!

Weigh your options carefully~

—-//———————//———

—> {Decline to help}

—————/————————————

—> (Agree to help)

—————————————

—> {Inquire: Blight syndrome}________________________________________

—> <Kitsune trait (Bargain): Subtly ask what’s in it for your services>

{90% success rate}

——————————————/———-

—> <Kitsune trait: Try to charm them subliminally> [Choose one target]

<Charm Wriothesley>

(70% chance rate)

<Charm Neuvillette>

(80% chance rate)

—-//——————//————

Votes end Friday midnight 🕛

(To vote send in a reply or ask!)

—-//——————//————

Player inquiries

[v3ry-cherry]

wriothesley likes when you come to his office with a burning need in your eyes, spelling what you really want 'right here and now'. he likes when you sit on his lap without waiting for his approval because yes, he would got into a long discussion only to tease the hell ouf of you. he likes when your hands wander on his already loosened tie and half unbuttoned shirt and even more when you impatiently start unbuttoning yours too. these warm kisses you leave on his neck, messy whispers to stop playing with you. but he loves when you need him, cause he loves to be needed, especially by you.

[honeykaes]

inside/out

wriothesley x convict!reader II 2.6k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, convict!reader,  fingering, squirting, marking, biting, piercings, rough sex, hate sex, office sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, you and wriothesley are exes, angst, degradation, domestic disputes, set in fontaine before the traveler comes, fontaine plot points references, discussions of legal systems and injustice, mention of drugs, discussion of murder, open ending for interpretation, unedited

synopsis: you swore that you would leave the fortress of meropide when your sentence was done. And when you do, your relationship with wriothesley sours as your two break up. Five years later, you're shocked to end up right back in the iron prison where he’s there waiting for you.

The world seemed so distant to you. The whispering throughout sounded as if it were an untuned violin as they lapped up the drama they so desperately craved in their lives. The Oratrice Mécanique D'analyse Cardinale clicked in the irritating orchestra about to come up with its verdict. 

The lawyer next to you fumbled with his papers with a look of shame and defeat in his eyes. Out of everyone in this room, you felt for him. He would surely bounce back with the next chum in your position.

The loud smacking of a cane caused the whispering to dissipate as you finally lifted your head up to witness the Iudeux of Fontaine.His eyes seemed heavy with sorrow. This wasn’t the first time you had witnessed this expression directed at you. Your eyes flickered to your God, Furina yawning as she whispered something to herself in her boredom.

 You can’t help feeling irked at her expression; at all of their expressions.

Why were these people allowed to judge you? 

The only answer you could find was justice was only for the privileged lucky, and you clearly had run out of it.

The contraption glowed, as Neuvillette collected your sentence.

“Under Article D of the Fontainian Code of Law, you are found guilty of fraud. Under Article J of Fontainian Law, you are found guilty of tax evasion…” he rambled on as you bit your lip.

It seemed that the rumors were right, after all. Most people who come out of the Fortress of Meropide find themselves right back in.

”And finally you are guilty of 1st degree murder of your former business partner, Henry Maugham. As a result, you will be serving a life sentence at the Fortress of Meropide,” Neuvillette announced.

You couldn’t help chuckling, covering your mouth from the cruel smile on your face. The whispering sparked once more, heavy eyes judging every movement you made. You finally lifted your hand away, smiling at the judge, but your eyes remained cold on Neuvillette’s somber ones

”Glad to see you never change, Monsieur."

The Melusine officers escorted you down to the Meropide, with only a small sack of clothes you were allowed to bring. From the photos, to the pat downs, it all seemed nostalgic to you. How many familiar faces would you see? You assumed quite a few.

This underwater prison you desperately wanted to escape from in the past, would be your sole future.

Finally finished with orientation, you threw your sack on your assigned bed sitting down, looking down on the steel ground.  With the bed squeaking, your roommates whisper, feeling the heavy air as they make their escape and let you have some space.  

Just as you sigh, thankful to have the room briefly to yourself to process, credit coupons hovered in your view as you looked up to see a tiny girl. Her long ear twitched in anticipation, ruby eyes gleaming at you, but at the same time, held pity in them.

”It’s nice to see you again. I really thought I wouldn’t have the opportunity once you left five years ago,” she chimed, brushing a bit of her baby blue hair.You looked at the tickets trying to give it back to her silently but she puffed her cheeks and shook her head.

”No! Think about it like this; this is for all the birthdays I missed,” she reasoned. You sighed, moving to massage the headache threatening to form.

-”...Sigwienne…why are you here? I’m sorry but-”

”Don’t apologize!” she interrupted, ears slightly drooping. “I, of all people, knew how much you wanted to get out. I-I’m here because the Duke wanted to see you.”

”No.”

”Please! I thought you wouldn’t be mad at him anymore,” she pleaded as eyes blew wide, pleading.Your gaze grew more bitter: 

“So he sent you to soften the blow or some shit,” you grunted. Sigwienne furrowed her eyebrows in disappointment before you clicked your tongue catching your mistake.

”Sorry…language. I know…” you muttered. Your eyes looked up to see a guard at the door, glaring down at you. It seems she was the nice “cop” and if you kept refusing her, he would get involved. You turn back to Sigwienne’s pleading gaze.

”Fine. Lead the way…” you grumbled getting up from your place. Sigwienne smiled, clasping her tiny hand with yours. 

”Off we go then!”

The only solace Sigwienne gave was a timid smile, waving as the door to the Duke’s office closed, leaving you with a man you haven’t seen in five years.

Your former boyfriend. Honestly, the man you naively thought you’d have happily ever after with.

He took a sip of tea before sighing, throwing papers on his desk as he leaned into his chair that creaked from the shifting weight. His hair was the same, black with odd streaks of gray hair he always had. He had a few new piercings on his ears though. 

”In all these years, I didn’t think I’d see your face again,” he murmured.Your jaw tense and eyes narrowed. His voice seemed as irritating as he’s ever been.

“You think I wanted you to see your sorry ass again, Wriothelsey?” you barked back. -He clicked his tongue, rolling his icy eyes.

 “I can see you’re not over our breakup..” he grumbled, drumming his fingers on the desk. You crossed your eyes, looking down with him with all the defiance you could muster up.

”If that’s what you want to call you being a selfish prick, sure,” you replied back.Wriothesley's nostrils flared but he didn’t spout any insults back.

”I thought you said you wanted to change for the better,” he asked, grabbing a file and holding it up. Of course he knew everything. He knew the second you were preparing to dive down to the Meropide.

”I did and I was. As if I wanted to come down here again. You know that out of everyone! But, I forgot something, people are cruel. And now, I’m stuck here for the rest of my life,” you raised your hands out, proclaiming loudly.

”...Just like you wanted.”

”I did not want that and you know it!” he shouted. It seemed his temper had started to reflect out. Tension was thick in the air as you laughed.

”Oh, right. My mistake. No you wanted to stay in this shithole and be the king of it, how could I forget? Your heart only had room for one person—the Meropide— not me!”

He rose from his seat, face beginning to go red in anger.

”Don’t! I’m not playing this game with you! You know how much I loved you. I loved you so much but you knew there’s nothing out there for me.”

Nails dug in your palms hearing his response as your emotions were beginning to get to you. 

 “Well you would have made something with ME out there!” you yelled, tears beginning to weld in your eyes. You turned away, wiping your tears and shuttered. You felt embarrassed being right in the same position as you were when the two of you first broke up and crying in front of him again after years.

”...I wanted us to build a new life together. Our sentences finished at the same time. You could have left with me, but you didn’t,” you whispered, angrily wiping your face. Silence fell the both of you besides your occasional sniffle and his heavy footsteps walking closer to you.

-”...And I wanted us to build a new life together here. But I wasn’t going to stop you from getting out of the Meropide.”

A frustrated grunt ripped from you as you couldn’t hold your irritation anymore. You marched to him, glaring at his form towering over you. 

To your surprise, he leaned down and kissed you. And shocking you both, you kissed him back with just as much fervor. 

”Selfish. Blockheaded. Smug dick--” you stammered out  among the heated kisses, claiming your lips with every second. Nibbling on your bottom lip, his tongue darted in your parted mouth as you threw your arms around his shoulder. His kiss was of the familiar taste of Earl Grey you remembered he was so fond of.

“Moody, Frustrating, Manipulative asshole,” he grunted back. Article after article of clothing, fell on the floor as you fell onto his couch with a plop. Your hands ran across his firm stomach and chest.You gasped feeling his large palm cup against your sex.

”Still wearing the same underwear I smuggled in for our anniversary. I see you’re still a cheapskate or are you just sentimental?” he grunted  in your ear. His finger firmly brushed across your clit, pleasure soon beginning to reverberate throughout  your lower form. You groan, hitting his toned thigh.

”Shut the fuck up!”

Wriothesley slid your panties down until they caught on your ankle as his fingers glided along the bare cunt. He rubbed your clit with his calloused thumb.

”I see you still have rough ass hands,” you chimed. Wriothesley rolled his eyes, before chuckling.

”Yet you can’t get enough of them as always” he shot back. Fingers slowly sank inside of you as you threw your head back. His digits curled and stretched you out, tenderly pumping at a decent pace as you squirmed under his touch.

His hips bucked slightly against your thigh where you could feel how hard his cock was, desperately pressed against his gray slacks.He hitched your legs over his broad shoulders as he nibbled your inner thighs—leaving a wake of discolored marks and soft bite marks.

”Fuck! Fuck!”you whined out, hands shooting out to pull his soft hair. Your legs caved in closer to his cheeks as he pumped his faster.

He leaned in, letting his tongue brush against your clit as it was the last thing to push you over. Back arched, fluid spraying from you as he continually lapped at your overstimulated cunt as the liquid made a mess of his face and the couch. 

As your body fell, breath heavy from your high, his fingers pulled out of you—walls unconsciously tightening, wishing they would stay. Satisfied with your fucked out expression, he smirked wiping his hand with his chin from your fluids. You narrow your eyes at him, watching him swirl his tongue around cleaning his fingers that were coated in your essence.

”Your face, it’s pissing me off,” you grunted. Wriothesley briefly laughed. Your heart fluttered momentarily. You hated how much you missed it.

“Said the person who squirted on my face. Been a long time hasn’t it, hm?” he teased. You glared before his eyes softened to something genuine.

”..Yeah, me too.”

He sat on his couch, shifting his pants down as his cock slapped on his lower stomach

He stroked his length as it pulsated in his grip. Every once and a while, a wavering moan left his lips. It seemed he had a new piercing too.

A Prince Albert piercing, glinting from the light and precum budding at his flushed tip.You shifted your hips, contemplating if you should go to the next step of someone that was your ex, but seeing him shutter, muffling his mouth and hearing your name was the push you needed.

”Fuck I missed you inside of me,” you groaned, kissing him. You hovered over his cock lining yourself up before sinking down. His hands found their way to the globe of your ass, grabbing the mounds tightly before you managed to reach his hilt.

”Like old times…” he whispered  out, hazy lust gazing over his eyes.

”Just like it…” you moaned.

His pace was relentless as you called out his name. His jaw was clenched, watching your slick dripped down your thighs and his cock as he continued to slam you down on it. Your whole body jumped, as his hips moved up to meet him pulling you down his cock.

”I missed you so fucking much. Your smile. Your voice…fuck your scent. I couldn’t sleep properly for months when you left.” he groaned. 

”I-I couldn’t either…fuck! There! Right there!!” you yelled out. HIs cock continued to press against your soft walls, hitting the spot that caused your voice to reach higher and higher, stomach churning as you almost hit your release.

“ ‘Thesley,” you cried out, nails harpooning into his back as you brought him closer to you. Your body shuttered, walls quivering and tightening. He clenched his jaw, having a harder time bouncing you on his cock.

”...I still fucking love you!” Wriothesley grunted, sinking his teeth into your neck. With one final rough thrust— his hips faltered—as thick ropes of cup jet out and inside of you. He slowly thrusted, moving to try to nurse down his high.

You shifted your neck, leaning his chin up before you kissed him once more. 

For a second, just for a second, it was like you never left him. That you two were still together.That you were in your early twenties, dumb and in love.

Wriothesley broke the kiss first as your fantasy was briefly shattered. His eyes were soft but clearly searching for something within yours. 

“...You still never told me why you are back here,” he replied. You groaned, and rolled your eyes pushing his face away as he grunted. You rose from him, his cum and your slick drooling from your hole before you went to grab your panties and put them back on.

Wriothesley merely sighed, lifting his boxers and pants back on. 

”...I was framed,” you admitted, putting your bra on. Just as Wriothesley was about to put his shirt on, he looked up in shock.

”What”

”Out there, I owned a small cute cafe. You know the one I always talked about based on a beloved classic, Les Aventures d’Alice au Pays des Merveilles,” you chuckled to yourself, recalling reading it to Sigwienne with Wriothesley at times. 

“ I didn’t have funds. Who would fund an ex-convict, y’know. But I met Henry, the aristocrat who promised my dreams. I thought things were going well until I discovered he had used the business as a front to sell absinthe.” You looked down, finally buttoning your shirt on and looking at Wriothesley’s somber face.

“He tried to kill me, I killed him first.”

Wriothelsey briefly closed his eyes processing the information before buttoning his own shirt.

“..But you know this country more than anyone else. He had power after death, and I was pinned with the crime by his frustrated associates,” you whispered, adjusting your color to hide the marks you knew Wriothesley left.

“I can help. We can catch them and get you back--” 

“There’s no point.” you sighed, but smiled. You chuckled humorlessly, walking to the door to his office. You clenched the handle, your back turned to hide your expression. 

Your real expression.

”I guess I wasn’t meant to be out there after all."

[archonsabyss]

Just saw a wrioth edit AND when I tell u it took my breath. I mean literally. I was gaping and gasping... [link]

[solitus17utopia]

" beauty is in the eye of the beholder , so i'll admire you a little longer."

High positions raise demands for high quality work, so it'd only make sense they pinpoint their attention on much more professional and crucial matters than attempting to court a recluse citizen that fails to suspect a single thing. Not only that... it seems that everyone knows all about their profound little obsession over them! How embarrassing, but if it makes you break out into a smile, even if little or dim, it's worth it, right?

pronouns — they/them.

genre — fluff, 'best friends with secret crushes on the other' trope.

c.warning — nothing too serious, mentions of social anxiety and stress regarding it but does not go into detail.

✧ Wriothesley. — So... opposites do attract.

The Duke of Meropide is one that does flaunt his wealth or prowess, as mighty as he may be. Finding comfort in the little things in life, such as the company of his acquaintances that have grown to be pleasant friends, and the melusiene nurse that makes him feel a tad bit too old.

In the face of formal occasions, he simply declines the letter as professionally and politely he can, with something often incredulous. However, it always worked. Nonetheless, whilst he strolled around the bustling city of Fontaine, with the sound of chatter accompanying the air, he walked to his usual teahouse.

What awaited him was not what he expected, but neither was he ever surprised much of the outcomes and results in his life. But, the amused gleam in the Duke's crystal-blue eyes, surely said something for the person that suited themselves to a corner of the shop, enjoying the scenery playing out like perfect puppets of a orchestrated play. They didn't seem bored, rather, they gave off the impression that the activities of everyday people were a fascinating notion they observed.

As the owner noticed their gaze, they well-meaningly shot Wriothesley a curious look. Smiling, they subtly suggested him to strike up a conversation, which doesn't often occur out of pure curiousity. But, hey, similar interests should be enough to build a conversation! Right...? He thought. Even if they don't speak as much or aren't as he expected them to be, or just different from the type of people he usually speaks to; one thing is for sure, and that is you make a pleasant company.

The first time the Duke chattered with the stranger, it was partially because the latter was having trouble with a transaction assumingly due to the loud, conversing voices overlapping each other. And with how it was slightly cramped, it was no wonder they were seating. Wriothesley, who stood next in line for his tea, noticed this and placed his left arm lightly above the small of their back, a comforting and ghost of a touch. If they raised their head to gaze at his strikingly sharp blue eyes, they'd notice a supportive, small smile on the man's lips too. Everything worked out well for, unbeknownst to the citizen, both of them. They paid without stress breathing down their neck, and Wriothesley got to feel a ghost of their aura and definitely a featherlight of their skin.

The second, third, fourth and so on built above these fateful encounters, mere chances as if a shut-in crossing paths with the Duke of Meropide, more times than a journalist has, in broad daylight was no extraordinary dance. And to every confused furrow of the innocent's brows, Wriothesley only produced a grin in return. Not long after, they'd find themselves winding up even in the Fortress of Meropide. Conversing over a cup of tea, Wriothesley slowly and subtly helped to apply to foundation for getting rid of their social anxiety. Even if it was something they possessed from a very young age, Wriothesley would make sure that they, at the very least, had little encounters with the dread of speaking to strangers.

So, that's how he got them everything they needed. Be it stationary to groceries and clothes, he'd have it at their beck and call. Of course, a keen eye was bound to notice this, in fact, multiple curious gazes. First it was, of course, the retired Hydro archon Furina, who was just going on with her day, feeding a stray cat before noticing Wriothesley's boastfulness around the citizen. Second was Sigewinnie, followed by Neuvillette, and so so on.

It was as if Wriothesley entertained no care to the scandalous to incredulous gossips around Fontaine, underground and above. As if he wasn't in a high position that dragged hungry aristocrat's eyes to, or others docile in presence of him. But, he vows he shall make a promise, that he will keep them safe, happy and content; in his mind, of course. Confessions can wait, he won't let a fly rest on their shoulder or let others snatch them off, even if unintended. They are his, and you will be his one day officially. All he needs his patience, which is a virtue he fortunately dons, as for love... Sigewinnie has already blunted pointed it out how it's almost literally flooding his eyes at the human's presence, or in the skips in his walk, even the way he talks.

Regardless, he won't let a single negative ion touch their skin or sound their ears, and as for the people remarking about how such a Duke with an authoritative presence is crushing on a person like them, they... have not been heard badmouthing them once more. Oh well, they say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, is it not? If that is the case, he can and will admire you from distance, and hopefully, near soon.

© solitus17utopia ✦ do not repost, copy, edit. thank you.

— alex's comments on this matter : aah , finally i posted... sorry for the delays and all, mental health and life as a whole has been pretty much a lot to bear. buuut, i hope this makes up at least a bit for the missing works; i thought if i might as well post, might as well make it long and worthwhile. was going to make a tiny drabble but ran out of motivation :( it's not my best piece either, but i tried. take care !

[dustofthedailylife]

How to Steal the Duke's Heart 101

→ Masterlist || → Taglist -> Next Part

Pairing: Wriothesley x (gn!) Reader

Summary: The moment your verdict was decided as guilty you were brought to the Fortress of Meropide - despite being innocent. Little did you know that the trip to prison would make you meet the love of your life.

Tags: Fluff, kissing, you're in prison (but innocent), some violence (not graphic), swearing

A/N: Due to me being utterly normal about Wriothesley I had the idea for this fic - who am I kidding I would commit a crime for this man.

“According to the judgment of the Oratrice Mechanique d’Analyse Cardinale, the defendant is declared… guilty.”

The voice of Chief Justice Neuvillette was ringing in your ears as he read out the verdict. Your verdict.

You couldn’t believe it. You knew you hadn’t done what you had been accused of, that the eyewitnesses had lied the moment they had opened their mouths, that the evidence had been tampered with, that you had been framed for the crime – but you were innocent. And no one was ever going to believe you. 

After all, the device that had handed you the fateful false verdict was treated as infallible in Fontaine. You now at least had proof that its reputation was nothing but hollow words. But what use was the knowledge other than just a bittersweet confirmation for no one but yourself? 

And before you knew it, guards were escorting you out the back of the Opera Epiclese in handcuffs. Roughly dragging you along with them into a big elevator. Down – deeper and deeper into the depths of the ocean.

You had heard stories of the Fortress of Meropide before – the secluded place where all criminals and outcasts of Fontaine resided. The place no one had ever come back from to tell the tale. At least not in one piece.

You weren’t sure how you felt on the way down the elevator but you would describe it as something akin to hollowness.

The glances the guards threw your way out of the corner of their eyes literally screamed disgust. You were nothing more than a dirty criminal to them after all – someone who was to be shunned and banished from society for all eternity. And if you really had done what you were convicted for, you wouldn’t even blame them for their disdain.

When the elevator arrived at the bottom the doors opened with a mechanical hiss. The scent of machine oil, iron, and damp moldy cellars immediately pricked at your nose and it was the exact opposite of what you’d call homely. 

The guards turned you in at the reception, where a rather unpleasant woman took your mugshots before handing you over to yet another rather unfriendly man who led you even further down into the Fortress.

With every new step you took, you tried to come to terms with the fact that the sight of damp, stone, and ironclad walls as well as the lingering industrial smell was going to be your life from now on. 

And the dawning realization of that was painfully pulling a tight rope around your throat. You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry and most of all, you wanted to run away and pretend like all of this was a bad dream. But you couldn't.

Instead, you were trodding behind the man who was escorting you and silently began to cry as big beads of tears soon began rolling down your cheeks.

"Crying won't help you anymore, sweetheart." The man remarked almost mockingly as soon as he looked back over his shoulder at your defeated frame. "Should've thought about that before you did some shit."

No. You’re wrong. I'm innocent.

At least that was what you wanted to spit back at him. But it was as if any fierceness or strength to stand up for yourself had left you the moment you set foot into this prison. You simply had no strength left to fight.

You soon arrived in a gigantic circular room. The contraption in the middle almost looked like a giant engine, elevators were going up one level on one side and even further down on the other side of the room. The ceiling was so high up that you almost couldn't make it out at all. The light was dim and the only real light sources were yellow lanterns whose light was bouncing off of the copper-colored iron pipes, crates, and frames that lined the entire room. Gloomy would probably be the best way to describe it.

The pungent smell of oil and damp cellar was hanging in the air here as well and probably even more prominent than it had been before. Only now it was also mixed with what you thought was old sweat and… tea? The smell of the latter seemed oddly out of place and you couldn't make out where exactly it was coming from. All you knew was that it was probably the only pleasant smell you had encountered down here.

Taking the elevator up one level again the man you had been following this entire time led you into a side hallway that looked more like a vent pipe. The dimly lit room that was lying behind it was only furnished with a bunk bed and a barely functioning lantern. He unlocked your handcuffs before roughly shoving you into the room with a smug grin on his face.

"Make yourself at home." He chuckled mockingly before turning around on his heel and leaving while whistling a tune to himself that eerily echoed off the stone walls.

You lay down on the bed, exhaling in defeat. Your throat still felt like someone had painfully tied it shut and tears were dangerously pricking at the corners of your eyes. 

Now what?

You had no idea what to do here aside from sitting your time off. Where do you get food? Were you supposed to work and if yes, where do you have to and when?

You closed your eyes as a single tear escaped from the corner of your eyes, rolling down your cheek, dampening the pillow you lay on. 

All you heard around you were wet droplets falling from the ceiling onto the wet stone floor, distant voices from down below, and your own breathing. The only thing that drowned these sounds out were the thoughts in your head. 

Now that you had a quiet moment to yourself after everything that had gone down today, the realization about your situation was beginning to seep in for good. This bed, these walls, the oily smell… this was going to be the rest of your life now.

And that’s when you broke down and started crying once again.

Eventually, you must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing you knew was waking up to the smell of food wafting through the air vent in front of your room. 

You got up from the bed, took the elevator down, and followed the smell. Soon you found yourself standing in front of a Cafeteria, where fellow inmates were queuing for lunch. Or was it dinner? You’ve barely even been here a day, but the distinct lack of daylight already made you lose track of time.

You sighed and walked over, queuing for some food as well. You didn’t have any appetite but you knew you had to eat something and your grumbling stomach was screaming for food, appetite be damned. Much to your dismay, the food needed to be paid for, well, at least the stuff that looked digestible.

You ordered the only free option and sat down with the bowl of grayish, funky-looking liquid whose consistency was more akin to that of wallpaper paste. It didn’t look appetizing, but at least it was free and would prevent you from starving.

Just as you were about to lift the first spoon of gooey pap in your mouth, someone sat down at your table, making you halt your movement for a brief second. 

He placed his tray on the table with a loud bang before plopping down on the bench right in front of you. His food looked tremendously more high quality than yours. Your mouth began watering from just looking at it. Freshly made roast potatoes with rosemary, fluffy pieces of baguette with salted butter, a big juicy piece of meat – grilled to perfection, and a glass of mousse au chocolat.

He leaned forward, supporting himself on the table with his elbows, folded his hands and intensely looked at you with his piercing blue eyes. It seemed like he wasn’t in a hurry to start eating any time soon.

You pretended to ignore him and began eating. The soup, which could vaguely be identified as lentil soup, left a slimy feeling on your tongue and tasted completely bland. Every fiber of your body told you to spit it back out again but with enough willpower, you actually managed to swallow it. Not without pulling a grimace first though.

“You’re new here.” The stranger in front of you observed with curiosity.

You looked up at him, nodding slowly shoveling another spoonful of goo in your mouth before going back to ignoring him. You weren’t really interested in trying to make connections here. All you wanted was to get out of here again – even though you knew deep down that the likelihood of that was nearing zero.

“Adapting well?” He inquired, still not in a hurry to touch his food.

You suspiciously looked up at him. There was just something about this guy that was off. He didn’t quite fit in here at all. He was admittedly very handsome. He looked well groomed and his attire was way too pompous to be an inmate - or maybe he was some rich guy who got some sort of special treatment down here. Every other inmate was avoiding your table and people looked at him with an almost reverent look in their eyes. If it wasn’t for the scars that seemed to cover the majority of his body already, this just further confirmed your gut feeling to avoid this guy at all costs in the future.

“I’ll take that as a no.” He chuckled, eyeing you further with a smirk plastered on his lips.

“What do you want?” You asked, now slightly annoyed.

“Just trying to strike up some friendly conversation. You know, seeing how lost you were while ordering food, not knowing about tickets, and just dashing around like a scared blubberbeast, led me to believe that no one gave you a rundown of how this place works. So, allow me?” He remarked with that same smirk.

When you wordlessly motioned for him to continue, he began explaining the workings and rules down here in detail. Unspoken rules, general rules, what and who to avoid, how jobs worked, work times, payment and money, general daily schedule, and a lot more. There was simply so much you were beginning to feel lightheaded as soon as he had finished speaking and you could feel the lump in your throat grow in size with every minute that passed. You would never be able to live here.

“That should about cover the basics.” He finished explaining as you swallowed thickly.

You opened your mouth in order to speak but he swiftly lifted his finger to shut you up. 

“No need to say anything. I know it’s not easy to adapt to a new environment. Especially not one you feel trapped in. But that feeling will fade eventually. Trust me.” He threw you a genuine smile before lifting himself up from the bench and pushing his tray with the food in your direction, pointing at it with an offering gesture.

“Welcome to the Fortress of Meropide.” He said, before striding away.

“Wait-” You jumped up from the table causing him to halt in his tracks and turn around once more. “What’s your name?”

“Wriothesley.”

After this strange encounter with the mysterious and admittedly attractive man, you didn’t see him around for a long while. This came as a surprise because you’d assume someone with his looks and attire would stick out like a sore thumb wherever he went. But it was as if the ground itself had swallowed him.

You wanted to see him again, mostly because you thought you could learn from him for your life down here. And despite your gut telling you that he was a walking red flag you had developed a strange curiosity for him.

You had begun working at the ship dockyard where a big window was offering a view into the ocean. You could somewhat make out the sky and time of day from there and it was the only thing that kept you from going completely insane in here. All you had done was sleep, work, eat, and repeat since you came here. Some people had tried speaking to you and some asked what you were here for, but you didn’t have any interest in conversing with them – especially not after you had tried telling someone that you were innocent and they had just laughed at you. Needless to say, you had no desire to connect with people – although he was the only exception seeing as you were craving to talk to him again, as much as you tried to deny it.

Today you were working at the docks again and found yourself longingly staring out of the large window. Your mind drifted off and you wondered how it would feel to simply swim back up to the surface where your lost freedom lay.

“Beautiful view, isn’t it?” A familiar voice reached your ears from behind. 

“Wriothesley!”

The man in question walked up to you and came to a halt right next to you. He looked out through the window himself before looking at you from the corner of his eyes with a slight smirk.

“Still longing for the surface?” He inquired, crossing his arms over his chest. “It never fully goes away but once you get used to the Fortress you’ll find yourself unable to want to leave.”

“Is that so?” You ushered quietly, scoffing. You were simply unable to believe him, not when your freedom had been taken unjustifiably. 

“Thank you for the food the other day, by the way. I didn’t have a chance to thank you yet.” You attempted to divert the topic.

“Don’t mention it.” He waved dit off with an unwavering smile. “It is almost time for lunch, have you eaten yet? We could head to the Cafeteria together. My treat.”

“Oh, you absolutely don’t have to, I have enough credits for food now that–”

“Please. I insist.”

And so you found yourself sitting at the table with Wriothesley again, with the most exquisite meal that tickets could buy down here. 

You were surprised he was able to fork over nearly four thousand credits to buy the meals as if they were nothing. And especially since he treated you to such a meal as well, while everyone else down here held onto their credits as if their life depended on it. And of course, you also didn’t miss the stares of the others again when you sat down with your fancy meal.

You carefully eyed the food and then Wriothesley as if you didn’t deserve to be treated to something like this. He looked back at you with a genuine smile as he continued nibbling on his baguette.

“Anything wrong?” He asked with curiosity.

“No. It’s just… why–?”

“Why am I treating you to something?” He raised an eyebrow in amusement as if he had read your thoughts. You nodded slowly in reply.

“You’re interesting. That’s all there is to it.” He admitted with a smirk.

“I’m interesting? Me?” You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “You say that when you’re the one I could say that about. You don’t look like you fit in here at all, you have a truckload of credits to spend, and everyone here looks at you like you own the place.” 

You paused for a second, eyeing him suspiciously. “You’ve been here for a long time already, haven’t you?”

“You… could say that, yeah.” He replied with a chuckle, dipping his baguette into the rich sauce on his plate.

“Why are you here?” You continued prying.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” He replied with a smug grin before he continued eating.

You couldn’t quite decide if he was a red flag you should run as far away from as possible or if you wanted to get to know him closer. But either way, your first priority for now was not letting the food go to waste so you began eating the heavenly-tasting meal.

A silence settled between you two that was surprisingly pleasant as you both quietly ate with the occasional glace thrown at each other. 

Once you were both done he took your tray with him to put it into the tray cart before turning back around with a smile.

“Same time tomorrow?” He asked.

“U-uh… yeah, sure. I don’t see why not.” You stammered a bit taken aback, still confused as to why he wanted to hang out with you so much. You were a nobody with nothing to your name – not even a criminal record technically.

“Great. See you tomorrow then.”

And with that, a habit would slowly form. You would meet up for lunch each day and not long after, also for dinner. He often picked you up at the docks and bought a meal for you and only sometimes you were able to deter him from doing so and insisted that you bought your own since you were genuinely beginning to feel bad even if he seemed well off. 

You sometimes sat down for a long time talking even after you both had finished eating. You chatted just about anything and as it would turn out you two seemed to share similar interests. You found out he really loved tea and had extensive knowledge in that regard. And it just so happened that you too were a fellow tea aficionado. Not only that though, you two shared a similar taste in music, books, food, and more. After a couple of weeks had gone by it felt like you had already been friends for the longest time. And much to your surprise, not once had he attempted to ask you why you were here or pried into your private life.

On another such day, you were just heading out of the dormitories towards the Cafeteria to meet up with him. But before you could arrive there someone forcefully yanked you behind some iron crates. You crashed against them with the back of your head with a loud bang, momentarily losing consciousness as pain shot through your system.

"What kinda big shot are ya, huh? What're ya sitting for?" A man yelled at you aggressively. 

As soon as you got a grasp of your surroundings again, even though now extremely dizzy, you saw a big bulky guy with a missing front tooth who was pinning you against the boxes by your throat with an iron grip. He was accompanied by two other, less muscular guys who were staring at you in the same aggressive manner. His lackeys, you assumed.

"I have- I have no idea… what you're talking about." You struggled the words out due to the applied pressure on your vocal cords.

"What're ya here for, asshole?!" The man yelled at you even louder now, a few beads of spit flying right into your face through his tooth gap.

"I… I didn't do anything. I–" You gasped breathlessly as you clutched your hands around the hand around your throat, trying to alleviate some of the pressure being applied to it.

"Bullshit! You don't land here for twiddlin’ ya thumbs counterclockwise. And if the Duke's got the eye on ya already, ya've to be some VIP or some shit!" The toothless man spit on the ground between your feet.

“Duke?” You asked confusedly. 

“Tch, don’t fuck with me here, shut ya trap. Now, tell me. What’ve ya done? Be honest or I might’ve’ta polish your visage a lil’.” He viciously cackled in unison with his two lackeys who were cheering on him.

“I didn’t. Do. Anything.” You bit back through clenched teeth, putting a strong emphasis on each word. And before you were able to react, a stinging pain shot through your system as a fist connected with your face, sending your head flying back against the crate once again.

You immediately began to see stars and could feel your consciousness quickly fade away. The ringing in your ears and the accompanying dizziness from the impact was overbearing everything and all you could make out before you passed out was a flash of white light and pleas for mercy. Then everything faded to black.

The next thing you knew was waking up with a bandage around your head and an intense migraine. You felt like a horde of boars had trampled over you. The omnipresent pain got worse when you instinctively tried to sit up on the bed you found yourself on.

You hissed in pain and immediately felt a pair of big hands push you back into the fluffy bedding.

“Stay.” 

You recognized this voice. You had heard it so often in the past couple of weeks that, despite your delirious state, you had no issue placing it.

“Wriothesley.” You uttered weakly with your eyes still closed.

“Yes, it’s me. I’m here.”

He took hold of your hand with a reassuring squeeze and the feeling of his warmth on your skin made you feel tingly all over and the all-present pain immediately felt like it was being alleviated ever so slightly. Out of all people you were glad it was him by your side.

“What? Where?” You rasped, attempting to slowly open your eyes.

“We’re in a separate room at the Fortress Infirmary. Someone roughed you up real good and you fell unconscious. I arrived just in time to prevent worse. You’ll probably have a nasty bruise on your face for a while and you’ve got quite the concussion as well as a cracked rib. But nothing some bed rest and a good cup of tea wouldn’t be able to fix, hm?” He tried to reassure, brushing a strand of hair out of your forehead.

"Your Grace, here is the medicine you asked for." A guard suddenly came rushing into the infirmary with a small satchel that he handed to Wriothesley before quickly leaving again after a courteous bow towards the man by your side.

You furrowed your brows in confusion at the display of submissiveness of the guard towards a fellow prisoner when you've been treated with nothing but disdain and… wait a minute.

Your Grace. The looks he got from the others during lunch and dinner time. The Duke. It's him?!

The memories suddenly came rushing back to you – how you had been slammed into the metal crates, how the toothless man had mentioned the Duke while threatening you and how his fist had then ultimately painfully kissed your face.

You didn't have all the puzzle pieces to connect everything into a clear image yet but it was enough to feel that there was an epiphany just mere millimeters out of your range.

You startled and sat up on the bed with wide-blown eyes once more as pain shot through you again from the abrupt movement. Pain so bad you thought you would have to throw up for a second.

"I-I… your Grace? The Duke? It's you! He meant you and– who? W-what?! I-I– he threatened me and I-I'm innocent. I don't belong here I–I'm innocent–" You incoherently stammered nonsense because your mouth couldn't match up with the speed at which your thoughts were racing.

Just who was he?

But before you got to properly ask that question a pair of soft lips gently connected with yours, rendering you speechless and cutting off the words that were spilling from your mouth relentlessly like water from a leaky faucet. He squeezed your hand a little tighter while the other gently found comfort on your cheek. Cradling it so carefully as if you're the finest piece of porcelain in the world and could break any minute.

The gentleness of his touch, the warmness of his lips, and the smell of Earl Grey on his breath made your body explode into a sea of fireworks. It wasn't until this moment that you realized you had developed feelings for Wriothesley that went beyond the casual acquaintance you met up with after work for food in the prison cafeteria. It was just that you had been too occupied and lost in your own thoughts about your predicament to realize it.

Your curiosity and cravings to see him more and more often weren’t just born from a place of loneliness. Your heart had craved for him all this time.

Your hands found comfort in his hair as you leaned into the kiss more, prying a low chuckle out of him and you felt him smirk against your lips.

"I know you are." He whispered against your lips when he separated from you again.

"What?" You asked in confusion, already forgetting what he was replying to.

"That you're innocent."

"N-no I don't mean just in this case… I didn't commit any crimes I was sent here despite being innocent I-" 

You didn't even realize you had started crying until he gently wiped a tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb. 

"I know." He reiterated firmly.

You looked up in his face and his eyes were filled with nothing but sincerity. He must be the first person you ever encountered who didn't see the sentence of the Oratrice Mechanique d’Analyse Cardinale as infallible and unquestionable.

"How?" You quietly breathed out in disbelief.

"I knew it on the first day I saw you. My beliefs were just further confirmed when I talked to you for the first time. I've been working behind the scenes to get you out of here again ever since." He admitted, wiping another stray tear from your cheek.

That's why he was gone for days after your first meeting and suddenly arrived again behind you at the docks.

"You went above ground?" You rasped, making the question of who he actually is even bigger.

He nodded, taking your hands in his and placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

Is that why he also said you would find out who he is soon enough that one day? But you still didn't know… who actually is he?

"How are you allowed to go out? Who are you?"

"You still didn't figure it out?" He smirked. "I'm Wriothesley. Warden of the Fortress of Meropide." 

And at that moment everything fell like scales from your eyes.

His attire, the looks of other prisoners, the abundance of tickets to spend, randomly disappearing for days, the Duke… the Cryo Vision dangling from his shoulder despite not being allowed to carry any in here.

He was the one who saved you earlier.

He must've noticed your glance because he squeezed your hands a little tighter and reassured you: "They won't ever bother you again. I took care of it."

You didn't dare ask what he meant by that and simply nodded in acceptance.

"I can also tell you that things are going well. I pulled some strings and you might be out of here by the end of the week again with no criminal record to your name."

But what if you actually didn't want to leave anymore? At least not without him.

"Will I be able to see you again?"

A question that spilled out of your mouth before you could properly think about it. But the deafening silence that followed told you everything you needed to know. He rarely left the underground and was occupied down here most of the time so the possibility of you and him seeing each other again was low.

"Certainly." He replied after a while avoiding looking into your eyes.

A white lie. He wanted you to return to your old life again, out of the confines of this prison you had unjustifiably been thrown in. He didn't want to keep you here only for the selfish desires of his heart that he had unplannedly given to you along the way. Maybe he would find a way to be with you once you returned, maybe he didn't – But that didn't mean he couldn't indulge in what you had for the remaining time you were here with him.

And that's when he pulled you closer once more, one hand resting on your waist, gently massaging your skin through the fabric of your shirt while reuniting your lips as if it was the last thing he would ever get to taste.

And maybe, if it was what it took to see him again, you wouldn't mind actually committing a crime.

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

[xiaowhore]

intoxicating.

premise. your boyfriend dumps you and says he doesn't love you anymore. of course, being the petty bitch that you are, you have to prove that you don't need him in your life either. and of course, intense emotions often lead to rash decisions, so you go to a bar in hopes of finding a new man.

somehow, even when all you've managed to do is scowl at anyone who approaches you and mope at the bar counter, you still manage to get one.

Wriothesley has dealt with his fair share of unruly drunks before, but they were something more along the lines of aggressive and sloppy, not depressed and sappy.

He finds that he'd rather manhandle angry alcoholics than a person who makes a slobbering mess all over his shirt, clinging to his arm and sobbing to his sleeve. Your body starts to sway even when he supports your weight, your footsteps unstable as your attempt to walk in a straight line fails entirely.

Okay, so maybe you are sloppy after all.

Wriothesley sighs and tightens his grip on your shoulders. There's no point in losing his patience with a drunk person. He didn't even mean to pick you up, it's just that as a police officer, his sense of responsibility makes him want to fix a troublesome situation whenever he sees one. Even when he isn't on duty, he often leads disruptive drunks out of bars and restaurants, forces them out when he has to, and is always on the receiving end of owners' gratitude.

However, he has no experience dealing with drunks that just got dumped by their boyfriend and chugged away the sorrow with alcohol. You know, like the one dragging their feet as he drags their inebriated body away.

At first, he thought you were hitting on him when he felt your head lean on his shoulder in the bar. It's a common strategy, one that he's dealt with enough times to know when someone is just pretending to be drunk and trying to get his attention. He was still thinking of what to say when tears actually rolled down your cheeks and you started retelling your life story that he never asked to hear about.

Wriothesley isn't actually trying to listen, but he still gets the gist of it. It would be hard not to when you're still prattling on about it beside his ear as we speak.

“He said...” You hiccup, warm liquid seeping into his shirt as you sob into his arm. He hopes that's from your tears and not your snot. “He said he doesn't feel anything for me anymore...”

So you glammed up for tonight and tried to have fun at a bar so you could prove to yourself you didn't need him in the same way he didn't need you. He can already recite the story perfectly from the amount of times you told him. Your plan is irrational at best, and he doesn't see himself doing the same if he were ever to be in the same situation, but he can't berate you for it. Not when you looked so miserable and hopeless to the extent he didn't think it would be safe to leave you alone back at the bar.

“You can't force yourself to be happy,” Wriothesley grumbles, finally giving up on carrying you by the shoulder and instead hoists you up on his back to give you a piggyback ride. Your shoes slip off your feet, so he sighs as he crouches down to pick them up. “At times like this, you should find other ways to feel better.”

Your body jolts against him as you hiccup once again. “Like what?”

“Dunno.” He shrugs, and he can feel you gradually getting used to being carried. It takes only a bit more for you to melt against his body, your chin snugly tucked in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. “Watch movies at home in your pajamas, I guess. Treat yourself to good food. Go on a trip. You look like the type to enjoy that. Much safer than getting involved with guys when you're still emotionally unavailable.”

You sniffle. “Romance movies only remind me of him. Eating at restaurants will make me remember the dates we've gone to. And going on trips will make me wish he's there with me.”

Why do they have an argument for each point I make? And I never said anything about the movie having to be romance. “Well, you still have to go through that,” he gives up on making you think otherwise. “But one day, you'll feel a little better about it. Maybe you'll want to start dating again when you watch that romance movie, or you'll want someone else to eat with on that restaurant you once went to. And when you're on a trip, maybe you'll even think you want somebody special to go with you.”

You go quiet. For a moment, he thinks you've fallen asleep. But then your head slowly rises from his shoulder, dazed eyes peeking at him unsurely. “You really think so?”

“It won't be easy,” Wriothesley says, because nothing ever is. “But you want to say you don't love him anymore, right?” He glances at you, at the dry tear streaks on your cheeks, at what glitter remains around your eyes from all the times you've rubbed away your tears.

For the first time that night, he sees you smile. “Yeah... I want to say it without feeling hurt anymore.”

He turns away, and he feels himself smiling without meaning to. “That's good.”

“...So do you like watching romance movies? Or eating [hometown] cuisine?”

“...No?”

“Then I'll settle for a movie you like. And I can make good food from anywhere.”

“...Are you hitting on me? Using my advice?”

“Is it working?”

Wriothesley laughs, looking at the person he's carrying on his back, who he is escorting to his apartment because you lost your keys and your roommate won't be back until tomorrow, whom he wrapped his leather jacket around because he felt you shivering against him, and who caught his eye the very moment he entered the bar.

“That's not a no.” He knows you're pouting even when he isn't looking anymore.

“Yeah,” he agrees with you, almost indulgently. “It isn't.”

When you wake up in an unfamiliar bedroom, dressed down to your undergarments and a t-shirt you definitely do not own, and with hardly any recollection of events from the past night, you think you've made a terrible, terrible mistake.

But then you spot the hangover medicine on the bedside table, your alcohol-spilled clothes drying in the laundry room, and possibly the most gorgeous man you've ever seen cooking breakfast in the kitchen, so whatever you did last night couldn't really be that bad.

“Oh, you're awake,” he says once he notices you standing in the middle of the room, completely awestruck. You don't even know what you should be staring at; his chiseled face, his strong arms, his tight tank top that faintly traces his muscled torso, the gray sweatpants that-

Okay. You are not going to look anywhere below his waist.

“Yeah,” is all you can manage, simply glad you didn't fuck up that one syllable. You feel like you're on the verge of either saying something really stupid or making really weird strangled noises. You prefer the former, if you can help it.

“Sit.” He pulls one chair from the dining table, gesturing for you to take it. You meekly take your seat, eyes shifting everywhere but his face. “You're rather quiet today,” he muses, taking one glance at your reddening face as he fixes the plates of pancakes in front and across you.

“...How was I yesterday, then?” You ask, though you don't actually want to hear the answer.

The man hums in thought, taking his sweet time while pouring coffee over two mugs. “Troublesome,” he decides to say. “You nearly puked over my rug, after all.”

You sputter, making all kinds of apologies and promises of compensation when all of a sudden, he laughs. “Nah, I'm kidding. But this means you don't remember anything at all, right?” He sits across from you, sliding the mug to your hand.

“No...” You take a sip, but you barely register how it tastes. “I remember ordering a lot of drinks, but that's pretty much it.”

“That's a shame.” He sighs, leaning back on his chair as he sips coffee. “I suppose that means our dinner plans are void, then.”

“Absolutely not!” The words come out of your lips before your brain-to-mouth filter processes it fully, your hand slamming down the mug on the table in protest. “Uh... that is... if you're available whenever...” You get a hold of yourself and feel your cheeks burning in shame.

He doesn't try to hide the amused smirk on his face. “Sure. I'll be looking forward to your hometown cooking, then.”

Just what on earth did you do last night...?

???