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#wriothesley x reader
deathbxnny · 2 days
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hihi!! may I req ratio,aventurine and wriothesley with a teen!reader who is getting bullied badly?
reader is a student in ratios, the youngest IPC employee in aventurines and the youngest prisoner in wriothesleys
thank youu
Hello there, Anon!! I absolutely love this idea, so thank you for the request, and I hope you'll like this!!<33
Content: Some descriptions of bullying!!, teen reader, platonic relationships, fluff, hurt/comfort, some angst, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns!!
((Not fully proofread))
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》WRIOTHESLEY
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Wriothesley knew from the start that you'd have a rough time here. You were very young and not the strongest he had seen either. You were akin to a scared and confused child due to your sentencing having been rather... unfair, in his own opinion. You reminded him of himself when he first arrived down here, and so, he took it upon himself to watch over you from afar until you've settled in properly.
However, as he had perhaps expected, people didn't go easy on you. You were teased and bullied, and some much older inmates were going as far as taking your hard earned tokens or food. And whilst some say that it was the survival of the fittest down here, Wriothesley didn't adhere to that anymore. Just because they were criminals didn't mean that they had to be so uncivilized in a place they had to now call home for most likely life.
And so, he eventually put a stop to it by being a little "rough" himself with the way he worded his orders for people to leave you alone. You were taken under his wing completely afterward, as he had hope that you'd perhaps make it out after all one day and lead a much better life than he could.
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》AVENTURINE
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Aventurine immideatly took notice of the way some older IPC agents picked on you. You were the youngest there, maybe even a little younger than he was when he was first taken in, and it was quite obvious that you were therefore an easy target. He tried keeping an eye on you as much as he could until he eventually just put in the request to be the one to mentor you.
He quickly made sure to always have you at his side whenever you were doing business for the IPC with coworkers. It made things alot easier regarding all the teasing and bullying, but it took alot out of him to not get annoyed whenever someone made a sly comment towards you.
Aventurine keeps you safe and helps you build your confidence up by letting you speak your mind and take over challenging jobs. He would also absolutely pull some strings to gain you more respect amongst your peers if needed, ofcourse.
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》DR. RATIO
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Dr. Ratio was keeping his eyes on you from the start during his classes, although it did take him moment to notice the bullying. You were always a very reserved and quiet child, so he usually left you alone as long as you paid attention in class and did your homework. But when your grades began to dramatically decline, he knew something must've been going on with you.
And so he decided to take alot longer when packing his things after class ended. He acted like he wasn't really paying attention to anyone anymore either, which is how he finally caught your bullies picking on you. To say that he was displeased would be an understatement. He didn't tolerate bullying in his class and made sure to place all of your bullies in detention the moment he could.
Dr. Ratio saw it as important for you to continue your studies even after what happened, but this time in private sessions away from the main classes until you felt safe again. He might be strict and stern at times, but ultimately he just wants the best for you and makes sure you know that.
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Alrighttt, I hope this was okay, Anon, and thank you again for your request!!<33
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rosedom · 1 day
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AHH UR SO RIGHT, fucking him over his bike, his pride and joy, while he gasps and moans while blubbering on how good u make him, how good it is.
AHHH him in leather too, he'd look so fine with a leather jacket bro omfg (≧▽≦) the way he'd tremble when you'd bite his neck, marking him up all from his neck to his shoulders as he tries to he quiet, embarrassed that he's feeling this good with you railing him over his precious bike
Maybe he's known as the "bad boy," the complete opposite of you,, and nobody would expect the two of you to even speak to each other,, but here the two of you are, both of you pretty much trembling from overstimulation and how good you're both feeling aahdbsksbdjs
It's such a good idea omfg ahdhshdbs ur brain is so good it's amazing
-pera
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"in an open match, 【 pera 】 has invited WRIOTHESLEY to play . . . dress for the slide
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✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!male!reader, sub!ftm!wriothesley, modern au, sex against a motorcycle, vaginal fingering, PIV sex, dirty talk + teasing + lowk praise, lighthearted bickering (mid- and post-coitus), slight breeding kink, creaming, creampie, alluded aftercare .
A/N : i know it technically wasn't an invitation, but . . ye<3 + fun references of dad!wrio with sigewinne <33
"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."
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Wriothesley is not an arrogant, prideful man. He is humble; he tips generously at restaurants, holds the door open for anybody coming up behind him, greets people—you especially—with a kind smile. 
The scars marring his body, the thick leather of his jacket and pants, the spikes and chains worn like jewelry, accessories—it’s intimidating, sure, but on him, it’s hardly such. 
Little children—they bound up to him, pulled as if by a magnet. It’s adorable, it’s endearing; and Wriothesley takes it all in stride, smiling that toothy grin of his and giving lollipops and candies from God-knows-where. (He’s got a pocket in his jacket just for sweets.
It’s why he always smells like sugar, beneath his frosty cologne.)
And speaking of children... Wriothesley is so good with ‘em. He holds custody over small Sigewinne, for crying out loud! She’s quite popular in school, too; while she's certainly a ball of sunshine on her own, her father certainly seals the deal for her—especially when he drops her off and picks her up in that hot ride of his:
a goddamn motorcycle. 
Now, you’re not exactly an expert in the things: all you know is that it looks badass, and it makes Wriothesley all the more ruggedly handsome to you. 
And, well.
It just so happens that, now, you’ve got this ruggedly handsome, sugar-frosted man all for the taking, spread out across the seat of that damn bike. He’s got his usual get-up on for when he rides—leather jacket, torn jeans, simple tee—, his hair a mussed up mess from where he took off his helmet. The helmet is resting precariously on the back seat, a support for Wriothesley’s body as you kiss him silly.
“Hah—wait, wait,” he’s pushing you back, breathless, his leather, fingerless gloves accentuating his fingertips, the short, bitten nails of his. His cheeks are tinged pink, and he looks good enough to eat—to devour. 
You hum, tip your head to the side to nonverbally ask, What’s up? but Wriothesley’s twisting around just-so, just enough to grab his helmet. He passes it off to you—with, to your delight, shaking hands—, and asks, “Can you put this on the ground?” You raise a brow, taking it anyway to do as he asks, and he continues, sheepish. “I—ah, I don’t want it to fall.”
You laugh, then, corralling back up to him once the helmet’s safely deposited on the grass (and not the pavement, thank you. You’re not a monster, letting something as sexy and sleek as that helmet risk getting scratched up). 
“Oh?” You lean back in, making like you’re about to kiss him again—kiss him proper, now, without worrying about the precarious balance of his beloved helmet—, but you dip down at the last second to press hot, searing kisses across his throat. “Why would it fall?” you continue, chuckling at the soft whimper that falls past his lips. “Unless you’re thinking about something naughty.”
He goes silent; the motorcycle rocks, just a little.
You pay it no mind, though. “Dirty, dirty boy,” you coo instead, lapping at the heavy thrum of his pulse. He groans, strong, leather-bound hands coming to wrap themselves around your biceps, yet he makes no other noise besides the quiet sounds of each exhale. 
Soon enough—because it seems Wriothesley truly is intent on keeping it zipped—, your mouth has landed on the softest, most tender part of his neck. You hone in on it like you’re some type of mosquito blood-sucker, lips wrapping around his skin and sucking, suckling, working your tongue over it until it blooms a pretty shade of purple.
You tire quick, though, of the lack of vocal reply from your lover. “You can’t tell me you haven’t fantasized about this already,” you murmur, suckling a new mark opposite of the first one you’ve set prominently, “about me, about me fucking you jus’ like this...” You slide your hands up from his side to cup his jaw, thumbing at the subtle stubble as he looks up at you with such icy-blue irises. 
You don't expect Wriothesley to nod. “I do,” he adds on, to really fluster you. 
“I—ah?” You hiccup, pause, bite at the side of his neck mere inches above your first mark. “Gimme the deets.” 
(It’s fun, to be immature like this.) 
He huffs above you, gentle laughter shaking you from where you suckle bruise after bruise after bruise, leaving him looking like he got mauled by a bear, or whatever. (Your possessive heart soars at seeing your claim spread across his skin, where even his jacket collar can't cover. 
Everybody will know he's yours.) 
“Stop talkin’ like that,” he grumbles—the effect lost by the way he laughs—, “you sound like a teenager.”
“A horny teenager.” 
He barks out a true laugh at that, the sound spilling into a soft moan when you suck at the slight hollow of his throat, the area oversensitive because of the scars. “You're insufferable.”
“And hard,” you murmur, rolling your hips down into him. The motorcycle creaks at your movement, but, this time, it stays still—perfectly still. (You thank Wriothesley for the care he gave his bike, going as far as to invest in a good and proper kickstand. 
He definitely didn't imagine this when buying that, though.) 
It's time to up the ante, then (to really test the give of the product.)
“Lemme fulfill those dirty fantasies of yours, sweet thing,” you coo, suddenly dropping the pretense of light-hearted teasing and diving right on into adopting that tone of voice you know makes Wriothesley utterly helpless in his arousal. 
Yet, “Sigewinne rides on this with me—” he tries to say. 
“So?” You dip down, hot breath fanning against his lips. His eyes cross to follow your descent, trained on your mouth getting closer, closer. “I’ll clean it.
“Besides,” you continue, rubbing the tips of your noses together. His own breath tickles your face. “I want you to be reminded of this. Every time you go on a ride, you’re gonna be thinking about this—about me, about the way I ruined you right here, right on your precious lil’ bike. 
“You’ll always be reminded of this.” 
You don't expect the way he mutters, all breathless off of nothing but the pleasant ache across his neck from the hickeys and your dirty, dirty words—it’s a simple, a quiet but gruff, “Good.” 
“Good?” You tip your head to the side. 
Wriothesley only huffs again, pulling you closer with the hands he's moved to your shoulders. You swear you can feel the grooves of his gloves through your own shirt. “Good,” he repeats, easy confidence dripping from his voice. (You want him to drip with something else.) “I want to remember.” 
And, really, the grin you give is downright ridiculous, this love-sick, dopey thing that has no place in such a charged environment; but Wriothesley shares it with you, your own private smiles, and then he's surging forward and pulling you down to meet him in a desperate kiss, one all tongues and teeth. 
“Now quit talkin’,” he drawls, licking at the roof of your mouth, “and make g-good on that promise.” 
“Promise?” You chuckle, dark, a play out of Wriothesley’s own book. It doesn't fit you, really—you, the epitome of a good boy, a handsome sonuvabitch who has grandmas tripping over themselves trying to marry off their granddaughters. (“Oh, isn't he charming, sweet Cecily?” 
“Grandmama, I’m a lesbian.”)
“I didn't promise you anything, Wrio,” you coo, but your mouth and hands are hardly on the same wavelength; as you tease him with your words, dripping straight sin, your hands are unbuckling the heavy metal strung across his hips, thumbing down the fly ‘til you get your fingers wedged right between his thighs. “Maybe I should have you beg, hm? Beg to be ruined right now, right here on the same bike everybody sees you ride around town in.
“Oh,” you murmur, then, an idea springing to your mind as your fingertips press to the throb of his cock even through his briefs, “isn’t that an idea?” He whimpers, the sound so soft, so—so unbecoming, if you didn't know Wriothesley the way you do. “E’rybody’s gonna see you ridin’ this, and they're not gonna have a damn clue, are they? They're not gonna know the way you spread yourself so eagerly across her pretty seats—” you tease him by calling the bike a her, knowing how peculiar Wriothesley is about personifying the thing. 
He nods, hips humping desperately into your fingers. The whole time, he's making these other soft sounds, and you're taken, over and over again, by how lucky you are to have such a strong man at your mercy. “Please,” he begs. “Quit talkin’, and fuck me.”
Snickering, you bump your palm against his mons, saying, “But you love it when I tell you all the things I’m gonna do to you.” 
Unable to even deny it, he groans, deep and throaty. “I do,” he acquiesces while you take away your hand and help lift him enough to shimmy down his jeans and boxers both, “but I’d love it better if you'd do more than just talk.” You leave the fabrics bunched mid thigh as you stand him up proper and spin him around, pressing him gently into the leather upholstery. 
It’s quick, after that, to curl over the heft of him, to nudge your fingers back down between his bare thighs to tease at this thick cock, his throbbing cunt. He's soaked, off so little, and it's easy, too, to slide in one, two, three, working him open in soft, gentle movements that stretch him without a biting burn. 
“I’m ready,” he bemoans, shimmying his hips ‘til he bumps against your own erection, tenting at your own pants. “Fuck me!” His hips move, tantalizing, teasing, and you find, unsurprisingly, that pre-cum is seeping through the fabric of your boxers. 
“Fine, fine,” you murmur, pressing your fingertips against his g-spot for the first time today, the spot swollen beneath your touch. He mewls, chasing the pleasure, and you give it to him readily as you dig your cock out from your fly, barely pushing your pants down enough to rest just past your balls. 
Now that your cock’s out, you slide your fingers from his wet, loose heat. (It never ceases to amaze you, how loose a cunt he gets when he's sufficiently aroused. He opens so easily for you, sopping off of nothing but some words, some foreplay.)
No matter how wet he is, though, you're still careful to further slick him up with lubricant. You dip into him just-so, just enough to slather his hole and cock both in lube. He starts, slightly, at the starkness of something cold against where he's most hot, most sensitive. “Ah.”
Grinning devilishly against the nape of his neck, nosing down the high leather collar of his jacket, you drag out your fingers, terribly slow; and, only when you're sure Wriothesley is well aware of just where your hand is, you slather your own hard cock with the mess of lube and his slick. 
“Ready?” 
He huffs. “I’ve been ready, babydoll.” 
You laugh at that, nudging your cockhead up and into his loose hole. The resistance is hardly evident—really, his body gives so easily for you—, your cockhead popping in in that perfectly saccharine way that always makes you groan low, makes Wriothesley whimper high in his throat.
“So open for me, babydoll,” you coo—his own word against him—, one hand dropping from his hip to brace against the seat of the bike. It hasn't gotten truly unsteady yet, but you always like to err on the side of caution when your beloved is involved. (Plus, you’re really not keen on having to buy a replacement bike for him. 
A year’s salary alone probably couldn't buy a bike as souped up as his, the years Wriothesley put into the thing paying off beautifully in the long run. That damn bike's been around longer than you’ve been his boyfriend.)
Your cock slips in quick, easy, smooth, sliding right in down to the hilt, where you pause to let him adjust to your size. And, like clockwork, he shuffles his hips side to side against your one-hand hold and breathes out a low, whistling breath, says, “Okay.” 
With that simple word—that small phrase, really—, you’re drawing your hips out slow n’ slick, the sound frankly obscene in the quiet around you. His bike doesn't so much as creak this time, either: it’s silent but swaying in time with your thrusts, barely noticeable and not at all that important, supporting the weight of you both and the heft of your next tender thrust. 
Nosing at his sweat-damp hair, you drawl, “Look’it you, sweetheart, all open n’ pliant for me on my cock. You’re takin’ it so well, pretty thing right on your pretty bike.” 
“Baby—” he starts to say something else, but he gets cut off with his own moan, your thick cock budding up against his g-spot. You feel him froth around where you're balls-deep in him, and you slide your hand from hip to mons. 
“Want my hand, Wrio?” you ask, fingers brushing the mess of black curls sprouting from between his thighs. 
He nods vehemently, his bangs splayed across his sweaty forehead. God, if anybody walked by, drove by—they’d get an eyeful of your Wriothesley, fucked silly and hot by your cock; they’d get their heart’s content of punked-out Wriothesley, leather gloves and leather jacket spread across leather upholstery, his accessorizing chains rattling off with each thrust.
But Wriothesley is yours and yours alone; you wouldn't dare share the sight with anybody else. As such, you curl yourself further over his stretch-out, prone body, breathing hotly against and moaning against the blushing shell of his ear. 
“There we go,” you murmur, taking to circling the throbbing head of his cock with a gentle finger. He mewls into the air, his head almost limp on his shoulders. “There we go.” 
“F-feels good,” he moans as he tips his head into yours. “So good.”
“Yeah?” you ask, rhetoric, switching from circling to stroking him, your pointer and middle finger lightly squeezed on either side of his straining erection, moving forwards n’ backwards in gentle undulations. You swear you can feel his heartbeat in each throb of his cock, driving you to give it to him better, sweeter. “I can feel you throb for me, sweet thing: are you already that close?”
No longer trusting his voice (which is a shame, really, considering how much you love to hear those ruined syllables pass from his lips), Wriothesley can only nod, letting his head loll even further forward ‘til he’s practically curved over the seat of the bike. You follow him all the way down: you, wrapped over his curled back; and him, head pillowed on his crossed arms. A shimmer of sweat makes itself known on the sleeves of his jacket, the leather of it catching the sun. He’s devolved to helpless moans.
While he trembles beneath you, around your cock, you hone in on that perfect angle—the angle of your fingers stroking him off, the angle of your cock bumping against the spots deep in his cunt that never fail to pull Wriothesley apart. “There we go,” you repeat, your own words coming out muddled with the pleasure threatening to pull you under, instead. “‘m gonna cum in you, gonna fill you up ‘til you can’t take anymore—y-you want that, baby? Want me to breed you while you cream my cock—”
“—yes!” His voice is shot to hell, this raspy thing that’s somehow thrice as gruff as normal and equally as hot, as absolutely, resolutely ruined. “Yes, yes! Breed me, w-wanna be bred...” He tapers off with a whimper, cunt beginning to tighten up around you as his orgasm threatens to pull him under with you—no longer just apart, but wholly wrapped in you, safe and protected. 
“Cum for me, then—mm—, Wrio, Wriothesley—”
He whimpers, again, and you barely catch a whisper of your own name in the intelligible mess before you’re cumming, too, your cock pulsing with each involuntary squeeze of Wriothesley around you. Even as blood rushes through your ears, though, you’re whispering sweet words—nasty words, each one making him whimper n’ whine—, your fingers—long-trained, by now—keep up the gentle strokes of his cock until he’s too sensitive to go on. You withdraw them slowly, even as you’re still pumping him full with cum, even as his cock is still helplessly twitching and cunt still milking you for all you’re worth.
Coming down from your highs, then, is a slow, drawn out thing. You stay seated to the hilt, but you tease at the way his cunt’s spread open around the base of your cock, your fingers coming back covered in opaque white. He whines and weakly kicks his leg back, but you only laugh, bringing his cum up to your lips, tongue darting out to lick it clean. You groan—more-so for show, to get a rise out of your boyfriend—at the taste, and he seems to finally find his voice at that.
“Quit it,” he says; and, damn, did you do a number on his voice. It seems to have dropped an octave, all syrupy-slow and gruff in that way he always gets post-coitus. “‘s nasty.”
“I’m nasty?” Laughing, you nuzzle your cheek against the back of his head, cat-like in your affections. “You begged for it.” 
Wriothesley groans. When he attempts to lean up, you help by wrapping your hands around his abdomen—surely leaving a patch of saliva somewhere on either his tee or jacket—and prop your chin on his shoulder... all while you’re still balls-deep. 
“Hi,” you say, grinning. You can feel his eye-roll. 
But he says “hi” back anyway, letting his head fall back onto your own shoulder. He tilts his face towards you and meets your gaze with a satisfied sort of smile. 
“Well?” you ask. “Did I live up to your fantasies?” 
He nods. “And more,” he adds; but then he’s pulling off of and away from your cock, leaving you no time to dwell on it. “I starkly remember you saying you would clean my bike.” 
“I did.”
“Get to it then.” 
You grumble, though, tugging him back into your with the bear hold you’ve got wrapped across his torso. “You and the bike,” you finally correct, “and you come first. C’mon.”
Whether or not you actually get to cleaning that leather upholstery, well... Wriothesley may be driving Sigewinne to school tomorrow while sitting on a barely-there, all-dried patch of his and your cum. 
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i got rlly carried away . . this was 3k words before i even knew it >< . . but: was this inbox from february? ye. does my pera anon still show their face? idk ! if ur still here, this is dedicated to u, honey <33 i know this may feel shallow of me, but i really do miss u guys when u disappear (;′⌒`)
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xianyoon · 2 days
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mighty ocean or a gentle kiss
wriothesley x reader written for @thexianzhoujade's personal memoirs event. prompt viii. comfort & fluff. 0.4k words.
wriothesley sits in the grand home office, comfortably nestled into the deep red loveseat – thumbing a mug of his favourite black tea, with two sugars. his hands tightly grasp a report; you see him scan through it diligently from your half-hidden spot behind the doorframe.
your husband looks up – observant as always, that's your wriothesley – and gently beckons you over.
"my love, you understand that you're always welcome to sit by me, right?" you perk up and walk as quickly as you can, falling to the floor with the grace of a child.
"you don't need my permission to sit by me, darling."
"are you sure?" you ask gingerly, toeing the ground.
"very. i'd be delighted to sit by you."
wriothesley watches you with a slight smile for the next few minutes – your smile that faltered when you read a sadder paragraph, face crinkled with laugh lines when it got amusing.
the air is still and quiet – no sounds fill the silence other than your shared breathing, soft and sweet – that was all you wished for. respite never came easily these days. the fire was bright, the tea was warm, and wriothesley's arms were even warmer. that should have been enough to keep you satisfied for the whole week.
so why – why was there a nagging feeling pooling in the bottom of your stomach?
"whats weighing down your pretty head, sweetheart?"
"it's nothing." you bury your face into his book, gaze perking up once to look at him; then right back down again. please stop asking.
"that's not what it looks like." your husband cups your face and gently tilts it up to look you directly in the eye, not unkindly.
"i think you should get your eyes checked." the words on the yellowed pages suddenly seem too fascinating – so much so that you refuse to look him in the eye.
there is so much wriothesley wants to tell you. he wants to hold you, point out that you're obviously not fine even though you constantly say you are – how frustrating you're being that even when he wants to help you the most, he cannot.
he wants to tell you that if you cannot breathe, please, just take the oxygen from his chest.
he doesn't. instead, he lets it go for now – the recognition that this battle is never-ending is a disappointing one, and wriothesley chooses to leave that for another day.
"fine. but you're staying in my arms until you feel better. do we have a deal?"
"deal."
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daze4all · 3 days
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Sing for Me Sweetly Song Bird Wriothesley x Girlfriend!Reader Smut NSFW
Synopsis: Wriothesley unwraps his present aka his girlfriend for the evening after a long day at work in his office
Tags: NSFW , Smut, Tie play, Powerplay, slight Prisoner x warden play, musician reader!, Childhood friend! Reader, Fluff & Smut, consent, biting, bruising, kissing, third base, orall,, bondage, riding, thigh, mutual groping, possessive, protective, slight soft yandere wrio but mostly fluffy sweet, romabtic sexy. Sugar daddy , Tie bondage , Smut ,Teasing ,Present ,Thigh riding ,Boyfriend girlfriend , Desk sex
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“Give me a music lesson sometime?” Wriothesly teases leaning down tempting you with his sly smirk. His arm lingering on yours a burning contact.
“Hmm I’d have to think about the price….” you trail off as your eyes wander.
You lean back eyes trailing his bright eyes accented by his marks, his strong jawline, the too tight buttons on his chest whilst fiddling with his tie. 
Then pulling Wriothesly forward with his red tie and with a kiss and wink
“Will this do? “ You crooned to Wriothesly dazed expression that turn into toothy smile determined to meet your challenge 
“Oh, or shall I make you sing?” Wriothesly purrs as he inquired leaning close breath ghosting your neck as you lean in begging him to take a taste with chuckle Wrio busies himself kissing and nipping with teeth and tongue your chest and neck to claim you as his own. 
He works his way up until he meets your lips a chaste kiss turning into tongues tangling as lips crashed into a horny tongue kiss for dominance.
“I think I might need a bit more than that” yanking off his tie and leaning in for another kiss.
Your hand splayed on his chest your fingers toying to undo the buttons straining from a too tight vest on his bulky chest. 
Wrio busies himself kissing and nipping with teeth and tongue your chest and neck to claim you as his own. 
As he smoothly lifts you from the couch onto his desk. Sweeping off struck of paperwork and pen.
Admiring your assets and you his before diving in licking and making you keen as he wet tonque explored you skin. Mapping his love to you reaching your pearl and making you sing as promised.
“Heh you taste sweet and sour just like it~” Wriothesly teases. Eyes hungry as he devours you. Wriothesly smirks and licks his lips with toothy grin your desire making his lips sheen.
“Oh shut up you-“  mumble embarrassed as you return  a playful squeeze to his ass that gets him going. He growls into your neck and ruts into you. “Oh wanna play it that way?” he challenges as he perks up his hair resembling dog ear and predatorily caught a scent of arousal. A
A gleam in Wriothesly eyes telling you his switch was flipped to be more rough with you.
 “Afraid, I’ll have to arrest for wandering hands and indecent exposure in front of the law!~” Wriothesley teases admiring your bedraggled form.  
You were half undressed from his ministrations. His shirtless chest and abb pronounced as he clinks the handcuffs from his side onto one of your arms as he  pulls you forward into another bruising kiss.
“Guess you’d have to go to jail too officer~” you chime in catching him by surprise with another kiss as you click the other manacle on his wrist.
You intertwine your fingers with the manacled hand with your own as he pins you p to the desk and he ruts into o
“Hah you want to play it that way?” He teases as he returns the squeeze to your mounds and flicks the nipple idly as he slows his pace.
Your insides throbbing in anticipation as he teases with the tip. “So hungry~ aren’t you my dear?”
“Beg for it” he commands with a growl one cyan eyes flickering with amusement ablaze as he chases pleasure with his hips in your warmth.
Slowly, entering, only to shy away. 
“Ah please more~”
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“Please what?”  He echoes cockily adding in a finger to rub and flick your bud as you leak on his fingers and he chuckles.
“Ah such good girl you’re doing great so warm wet” Wriothesley teases. All the while
murmuring praises in your ear hoarsely.
“ Wrio~  stop teasing me” you cry frustrated beating lightly at his toned chest and twisting his nipple in retaliation to his aroused moan.
“… ah there for me. Squeeze just like that baby”  Wriothesley teases and  moans the plan backfires as he smirks  
“Got to do better that sweetie. I’ve had much worse~” Wriothesley challenges as he gesturesto his scarred chest. In retaliation, you lean down to lick  and suck hickey on his skin.
As you suck on his fingers the heat unbearable until you break not satisfied with just the tip.
“Give me ah your everything” you blush embarrassed as he slams into you.
 He smiles turned on as he brushes back his hair and sweat trailing down his chest to stare hungrily with gleaming cyan eyes to watch you be undone by your own orgasm.
“As you wish don’t regret it~” Wriothesley smiles wickedly. A shark’s grin that caught his prey. as he slams back into you, so you see stars.
Fluidly as if swimming stroke by stroke. A steady wild rhythm as he buries himself in your warmth.
He grabs your ass as revenge for your ass grab and pushes you further into him with a squelch and squeak of surprise. 
 You embrace his broad back scratching his shoulders with your nails. A delicious mix of “you fell so goood~ pleasure and pain as he is the one unwinding your and making you lose control in your pleasure.
Then switch to holding onto his buns in turn as he groans and smirks at you. Groaning in pleasure your  “ahh if only I could be buried in you forever dear~”
Quickly, he hardens and spills inside your tight warm walls.
Your sounds devolving into a moan of pleasure by his hips undulating rhyme as he takes you over and over. 
A desire he first had when he had first seen you under the stage lights and singing in the streets. 
Until you both reach your satisfied high and settle for cuddling in the blankets with warm tea on the clean coach.
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-After glow-
“Always nice to see you ~ “ you hum happily in his arm snuggling into his bear hug.
“Mhmm stay here for bit “ Wriothesley he comment with peck on the check after you cleaned up .You blushing from the proximity as he engulfs you in a bear hug. 
“Aww don’t want to stay caged up in my arms? “he teases. Catching up reader in bear hug. His rising erection saying hi.
“You weren’t complaining when I was hugging you earlier” Wrio shouts back with an eyebrow waggle that has you blushing and giggling. 
“You horn dog!”
You gasp in mock horror as you throw a couch pillow and devolve into another pillow fight. That leads to another round with close proximity and attraction still thick in the air from the previous activities. 
------
for the friend who's a wrio fan hopefully did this smut justice sweet but Spicy~
Imagine: Wriothesley &  his significant other get frisky with handcuffs but forget the key…to unlock them afterwards lol . His are custom made after all lol….
Extra~ Side Shot After Care Funny Thought: Those cuffs don’t have key lol
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Based on the voice line:  
Did you know most handcuffs can be unlocked with the same master key?
Except mine of course. They’re Different~ - Wriothesley
Side Shot After Care Funny Thought: Those cuffs don’t have key lol
Drowsily you wake to the next day. 
There’s a steaming cup of tea on the tabletop. 
“I see you have woken up to the world “ Wriothesley greets you with a kiss to your cheek
“Oh ,and what is with this welcome?” You ask with raised eyebrow jangling the handcuffs on your wrist still on from last nights romp.
“Opp must have forgot those … “ Wriothesley laughs and fiddles to unlatch the handcuffs.
The jingling continues for long time as silence reigns and Wriothesley begin to chuckle nervously a sheepish grin on his face.
“ So, about the handcuffs… those are custom made. SOOO I don’t have the key on me right now?”
“WRIO!”
“Till death do us part?”
“I’m going to break them.”
“Wait no! I had them made can we at least get another use out of-ow”
“You deserve that…”
“Is that a maybe?”
Side note: what if Wriothelsey custom handcuffs were only cosmetic so he never had a key made for them lol….
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vivalabunbun · 17 hours
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Someone forgot their umbrella, hopefully his coat was enough
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akutasoda · 3 days
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helo, for the event, wriothesley with teen reader who is the youngest prisoner of meropide?
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a duke's mirror image
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synopsis - when the youngest prisoner he's seen stays at the fortress
includes - wriothesley - platonic focus
warnings - gn!reader, reader's age isn't specified, fluff, slight angst, spoilers for wriothesley's backstory, wc - 1.5k
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the law was an unforgiving and difficult to fight, especially in a nation known to be the home of the god of justice - fonatine's ideal was justice for that reason. wriothesley knew first hand how the oratrice mecanique d'analyse cardinale could determine a persons fate - would you live your life basking in fontaine's sunlight or be confined to the dull, damp confines of the fortress of meropide?
however that did not mean you couldn't turn your life around and emerge from the depths of fontaines water looking for a fresh start, although that did depend on why you were there from the start. as a young child, wriothesley entered those depths and emerged as someone who took their experience and eventually became the lord of where he was previously held - a bit ironic in his eyes but he meant well and he intended to upheld his morals.
as the lord of the fortress of meropide, he knew of every single criminal or accused that passed through the entrance and he knew of those that left - you could really see people from all walks of life inside the fortress. however it wasn't really everyday that a younger prisoner made their way into the depths so it made it all the more noticeable when your file was placed upon the duke's desk in advance for your stay after your trial had been finished.
normally, the first thing wriothesley would glance at would be the reason for convinctioon as to get an idea of who he was going to have to keep an eye on but his gaze was immediately directed to your age. from his memory, you would be the youngest prisoner of the fortress during his time as the lord - a small part of him had a nagging feeling that you would the youngest since his conviction. now he cared little for why you were convicted, sure he took a small glance but it seemed rather insignificant to him when you were that young.
he was rather lucky during his stay, the prisoners he was placed among took sympathy on his younger form and opted to help teach him a few tricks and such but he couldn't speak for the prisoners now - there was no guarantee that they would be as kind. someone as young as yourself still had your entire life ahead of you much like he did and this prison stay could decide whether or not you delve deeper into a dishonest and damaged future, wriothesley wouldn't allow that.
your cell was rather damp although you didn't know what you were thinking it would be when it was literally underwater, of course water would seep through eventually. the small continuous drip drip of the leak in the corner could atleast be a source of entertainment or maybe you could judge the sparce use of candles and lanterns in the cells. on the bright side, the bed didn't seem as bad as you were expecting and maybe you could actually convince yourself it was comfy.
your trial came much sooner than you wanted it to, it's not like you weren't expecting it but you swear they moved it forward. anxiety and apprehension soon morphed into pure dread and terror when your fate was promptly decided by the oratrice mecanique d'analyse cardinale - the ludex's voice resounded in your head and was sure to haunt you in the waking and sleeping world.
you don't know exactly how long you had been sat on the semi decent prison bed before a guard came to your cell and demanded you followed and you didn't really ask why. you were escorted to a cell that wasn't as damp or dark as your previous holding, sure it still held the bare minimum but it was definitely an upgrade in this place - only the did you turn to the guard and ask why but they propmtly locked you in and left.
your first day in the depths of the fortress went rather smoothly. none of the prisoners really gave you any hassle and some even looked at you with a tad bit of sympathy but you were a bit hesitant they weren't being judgey. you were also a bit suspicious when the cafeteria's robot mek bran gave you food that appeared to be different to the rest of the prisoners but you'd rather not make a fuss. a part of you preferred to just keep your head down and mind your own business but that became difficult when there was an obvious difference on your treatment as a prisoner.
it was only the second day of you're stay when you were informed the duke wanted to see you. small parts of you were immediately panicking as you tried to recall if you had done anything to garner the duke's attention but nothing came to mind which made it worse. you're entire walk there was filled with silence that allowed your thoughts to control your worries as you feared for the worst and it wasn't helped when you reached the duke's office and he was sat at his desk, file in hand.
on further inspection as you walked closer, you realised the file was yours. wriothesley placed the file down before reminding you to take a seat on the chair beside - it felt painstakingly long until you sat down and when you did the only sound that filled the awkward silence was the low hum of whatever music he had playing from his gramophone. wriothesley was the one to break the near silence and he began apologising for not talking to you sooner.
'you know how busy people can be, even i wish i wasn't this busy sometimes' he began and continued on explaining how he had been a bit busy over the oast few days, although he seemed to notice your apprehensive stand. he gave a small smile before stating 'you probably don't want to hear any of that so let me get to the point, by no means did i call you here for any negative reasons'
you remained silent as he continued 'please understand that i merely just want to inform you of a couple of things regarding your stay here' a small nod was all he managed to coax out of you.
you were convinced he didn't do this for all the prisoners but you didn't really feel you had the confidence to speak up and say anything, so you remained silent occasionally nodding to his words. 'i would also like to inform you that we had you're cell upgraded on my terms as well as your overall necessities' this was what peaked your interest and the final nail in the idea that he was giving you a better stay so he should've expected the 'why?' that you asked.
'i'm afraid i cannot tell you why but please know that any changes would have been authorised by me and are for your benefit'
a small part of you felt like you should tell him that you didn't want the extra's and you were a prisoner like everyone else down here but you felt he wouldn't listen. eventually he allowed you to return to your cell and you quickly took your leave as the duke's office became rather suffocating the more you stayed in it. you knew for sure that he was giving you a better stay than he would other inmates and you could take quite the reasonable guess that it was because of your age.
over your stay at the fortress, you tried to ignore all the extras granted to you but it became very hard to ignore when the duke invited you to his office for some small talk over lunch or happened to 'conicidentally' patrol the area around your cell and 'happened' to pass by yours to ask if you needed anything. one day you had happened to pass by sigewinne who was passing through the halls and you decided if anyone was going to give you an answer it would be her.
your suspicions were confirmed, the duke of the fortress had taken upon a duty to ease your experience in the fortress just because of how young you were. sigewinne made it very clear not to bring it up with him and you promised her you wouldn't. maybe knowing why he took pity upon you made it easier to accept his kindness.
wriothesley's kindness stard consistent toward you right until your final days at the fortress, and even as you departed wriothesley made sure to escort you out and wishes you best for your future.
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akutasoda's 1k event
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chronosdawn · 14 hours
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Attached - Alpha!Wriothesley x Beta!Reader
a/b/o AU, GN!Reader
A/N: I got the idea for this while working on another, longer a/b/o fic so instead of working on that like I was supposed to, I wrote this OTL
Word count: 1.3k
Content warnings: a/b/o dynamics, mild sexual content and themes (minors please DNI)
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Not many got the chance to know the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide well. Certainly, almost everyone in Fontaine knew of him, and as the Fortress’s administrator, many people had some sort of contact with him, be they convicts of the Fortress or proprietors of businesses hoping to gain a foothold there.
But among those, very few got to actually know the Duke beyond his title and position, and when you’d first met him, you’d had no reason to think you’d be any different. Sure, you had been invited there by him personally, which was rare, but made sense once you’d learned he was looking to procure resources for some project that was being worked on in the Fortress—something you had a lot of experience doing for members of the Fontaine Research Institute.
Over the course of several meetings—and more than a couple of pots of tea—a tentative friendship had formed between you. One that had turned into something quite different when you’d accidentally stumbled into his office while he was in a rut.
And that, was how you’d come to end up in your current situation—seated in Wriothesley’s lap with your overnight bag discarded by the door to his room. You hadn’t expected this to become a regular occurrence when you’d first offered him your assistance, but for some reason the stubborn fool had refused to seek out an omega to spend his ruts with, even if you both knew that was what he actually needed.
He nosed against the back of your neck before going in with a gentle nip of his teeth, dangerously close to where your small beta scent gland lay.
“Careful,” you warned, “you know our agreement, nothing that can’t be taken back. I don’t want to be the reason your future omega ends up developing some sort of complex.”
Wriothesley stilled briefly before grazing his teeth over your nape once more. “What would you do if I did?”
“What do you mean?” You tried to turn around to look at his face, but the muscular arms around your waist kept you locked in place, pressed tightly against the firm planes of his chest.
“What would you do if I decided to put a claiming bite on you? Right now, you’re not in any position to stop me.”
“You wouldn’t,” you said with absolute certainty, even as he nipped at you again, harder this time.
“What makes you so sure?” His rut had come on enough that even you could smell the pheromones he was pumping out into the air, a rich leathery musk with notes of clary sage.
“I know you, you just wouldn’t.”
“You sound pretty convinced of that.”  He went quiet for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was barely audible as he muttered into your skin. “Do you even know what I was originally sentenced here for?”
“I do.” He’d never told you himself but you remembered reading about his trial in the newspaper your father had left out on your dining room table. “But that’s neither here nor there. You’re not the sort of person who’d force a yourself on someone, and I can’t imagine you ever being disloyal to your mate. Even if for some strange reason you seem reluctant to go out and find them.”
He let out a chuckle but there was no real humour in it. “You know, sometimes I wish you thought a little less highly of me.”
“If I didn’t think so highly of you, I wouldn’t be here, you know that.”
“Yeah, I do.” He went back to worrying at your neck, his mouth over your scent gland. Instead of biting down, however, he sucked at the skin in a way that was certain to leave its own sort of claiming mark, but one that would fade within a week. 
“You don’t seem to be in any hurry,” you noted, as he took his time littering your nape with hickeys, despite the growing hardness you could feel pressing against your ass.
“How long can you stay?” His hands began to wander slowly over your body, the heat of his palms burning through your clothes.
“A couple of days.” You let out a sigh, allowing yourself to enjoy the feeling of his touch while you could. “I’ve got a trip to Liyue scheduled to check on some ore shipments and it’s too late to rearrange it. Sorry I can’t be here for the whole thing; I should be able to help you through the worst of it though.”
“And when will you be back?”
“I’m not sure. Some of the merchants we’re dealing with are really dragging their feet for some reason. I should be back before your next one, although whether that’s really a good thing or not, I don’t know. Might have been a good incentive for you to actually seek out a more permanent arrangement.”
“I really wish you’d stop bringing that up.” One of his hands slipped underneath your shirt, sliding beneath your undergarments so he could give your nipple a firm squeeze. “What’s so wrong with this?”
You let out an undignified squeak and chastised him with a light slap to the thigh. “I know I sound like some nagging old aunt, but I just want you to find someone who makes you happy. Truly happy, not just sex.”
“And if I said you make me happy?”
“I can’t, not in the way deserve,” you said a little sadly, before putting the thought out of your mind altogether. It was best not to think about what ifs that could never be, it would only lead to hurt. “Now, what do you say we get a move on, before you get so wound up you tear straight through my clothes. Again.”
Wriothesley loosened his hold enough for you to turn around in his lap, fingers moving to undo the buttons of your shirt as he watched with rapt attention.
“With the way you’re so fond of telling me off, anyone would think you’re the alpha in this relationship.” He made no move to touch you, simply observing as you shed your garments one by one. You weren’t entirely sure how he was managing it, you could see the flush on his cheeks, feel the tension in his body—a piece of elastic a hair’s breadth from snapping. Still, if any alpha would have the self-control to hold themselves back during a rut, it would be him.
“Come on mister, it’s not fair to make me do all the work.” You moved to start helping him out of his waistcoat, his jacket having already been shed before you’d even entered the room.
“Alright boss,” he replied with obvious sarcasm, a smirk curling at his lips. With no warning, you were suddenly lifted and flung onto the bed, Wriothesley following you quickly after, caging you in with his body and leaving no hope of escape. “If you’re that eager, you don’t have to wait for me to go into a rut, you know, you can come here anytime. I’ve asked the staff at the front desk to let me know as soon as they see you.”
“It’s a tempting offer.” You helped him out of his waistcoat as he pulled off his tie and tossed it somewhere in the room. “But I’d hate to be the reason for a decline in the efficiency of management of the Fortress.”
“Always an answer for everything.” You didn’t get a chance to retort before his mouth was covering yours, hot and hungry as he ground his hips against your thigh. It would seem his control had finally failed him, as when you kissed back, he let out a satisfied growl from the back of his throat, fingers digging into your flesh as he tugged you into the position he wanted.
You simply let him, tangling your fingers in his hair as you braced yourself for what was sure to be a long and tiring—if enjoyable—affair.
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funficwriter · 1 day
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A Wolf and a Snake (Wriothesley x Reader) Chapter 5: The Tides Are Changing
A/N: Enjoy!
Taglist: @yue-caelum, @reyy-chanx, @mis-disaster, @ladyarchiviste, @keigo-hawks-takami-simp
Warnings: Fighting lol, physical violence, pain, almost-heart failure (?), violent thoughts, yandere shit, yapping, vaginal fingering, a liiil bit of edging
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"You've got to be careful.".
Even when scolding you, Agatha always laced her voice with sweetness. You could count the number of times she was genuinely mad at you on one hand. If she was this evening, you couldn't blame her given the circumstances.
"About?".
She sighed.
"You know damn well about what, Y/N. I'm fully on your side, and I think Lord Wriothesley will be great to you. But I worry... It's normal that you are happy beyond reason with him. I fear that you lose yourself in your happiness and forget that you're not supposed to be there, at that time, with him of all people.".
Deep down, you knew she was right. The circumstance that she worried about was your approaching wedding day, which catalyzed more and more restrictions for you. Your parents let you leave the house less and were more strict regarding your behavior, way of expression, speech... Everything.
With that, sneaking out to see Wriothesley was becoming a more challenging endeavor. Once a matter of meeting at night and being back before dawn, you now had to coordinate by the hours, pray to Focalors that no secret last-minute changes required your presence, be careful of the place and who was around (Fontainians, particularly of the higher classes, were Teyvat-renown gossipers), not laughing too loudly, and on top of it all, staying vigilant, which you were becoming notoriously bad at.
You were once a little paranoid, as you should have always been. Now, both you and Wriothesley forgot your meetings' lack of approval and the danger that may ensue. More than once, you risked being late in returning home; Had Agatha not sent a hurried message reminding you that more than one servant asked about you, you would have certainly been late enough for your Father to look for you.
Though the air of your conversation was tense, you knew you had to thank her for saving your skin.
"Y/N...".
She stopped herself from speaking once she said your name. She wouldn't have called out to you if not to say something. Something was troubling her.
"Yes? What is it, Agatha?".
After an awkward minute, she looked up to you. Her eye to yours, and her brow furrowed in disapproval. The same look your mother gave you when you played the piano badly.
"Y/N, I've always cherished you, but I have to say it: This is getting out of hand. Your adventures are becoming more ridiculous by the day. I had to pull out my rosaries to pray that you would come home before Master! I haven't done so in 20 years! I never had to keep this insane vigil over you when you started seeing Lord Wriothesley, because you knew. You always kept track of yourself, and I was fine with it. But developing eye bags? Losing track of time? Corrupting novice police forces? Making me shiver and cry for your safety?!".
All your life, Agatha took your side even if it meant putting her career as a governess at risk. There was no punishment she didn't try to protect you from, even though your parents worried that she would be lenient and ruin you. She even gave Wriothesley her approval, the only adult approval you cared about. Why was her tune changing like this?
"Agatha, I said I'm sorry and you accepted it! You know how horrible my life grows by the day, all for this blond swine I'm supposed to marry! I understand your concerns, but as of now, I haven't seen him in a month, and-".
"Y/N!!!".
She got up brusquely, an uncharacteristic gesture along with yelling your name. A pit of malaise started to grow in your stomach, and you were worried that it would spread to your esophagus and make you vomit. You didn't like where this was going.
"I would be patient if your little plan would yield its output sooner. But this is taking way too long! I've known girls who ran away with their lovers faster than you have! How much more is this going to take!? How many more near heart attacks will you give me?".
"Agatha, you told me to not jump to the drastic measure! We're still trying to do things the legitimate way-".
"Legitimate way? You're already spending your allowance the same way your Father did whenever he wanted something done faster than what the commoner got! Where's the legitimacy in that? Why do you still act for it?".
She went there. The pain was spreading to the pit of your belly, and its top.
"You want to talk about legitimate matters? How about that dumbass you call your half-brother who got kicked out of this manor like a dog? How about how he lost an entirely pleasurable and easy life because he doesn't know that an illegitimate sibling should STAY hidden?".
She gasped, burst into tears and you hugged her while apologizing for getting even lower, and you both cooled off... That's what would have happened in an ideal world where the both of you weren't so stressed. Only the first action took place.
She looked down at the floor, and for a fleeting moment, you wondered whether you had gone too far, digging into such sensitive history. But that ended when she looked up, even angrier and with teary eyes.
Agatha, the sweet-voiced. Agatha, the quiet and low of tone, a constant in your life. You did not think she could yell at you like this.
"My brother? MY BROTHER?!? You can drop the nice, exceptional noble act now! You screw commoners over with rules and break them with no regard for how the rest of us will be affected! At least my brother is still a man of integrity, and he'd sooner shoot himself than take your stupid bribes! Integrity! Can your money buy you that? Can your man-dog fling buy you that, or is he too busy with shiny bracelets and fake promises?!?".
"I never tried to bribe him, Agatha! I'm courteous enough to stay away from him! What do you mean, commoners getting fucked by rules?! Don't you think that I'm getting screwed out of a life I want? And that's why I need to do this behind everyone's backs?! And unlike him, Wriothesley does not make fake promises!".
She got up and close to your face, her tears even more visible. You never feared an adult's wrathful gaze upon you as much as hers'.
"You don't get it, do you, Y/N?".
"What?".
She stopped moving, and perhaps even breathing. Then she giggled and laughed raucously as if she were an evil witch from your childhood books. Or that one tutor who laughed at you when you gave a wrong answer.
She turned to the opposite side, before turning her face so you could see it sideways. She never gave this shit-eating grin.
"At least my brother is happily bound in holy matrimony. If Wriothesley was that intent on marrying you, he would have snatched you between his teeth by now. The length of this little plan makes it clear: He's just having a bit of fun with you.".
A bit of fun.
A bit of fun.
A day where he'll grow bored, ditch you to your grey life again, and forget about you. A day where he'll marry another woman. Not you.
In the red you saw, you slapped a vase to the ground, perhaps hallucinating Agatha's face.
"AGATHA!".
In hindsight, she was making sense. Wriothesley talked day and night, paper and in person, about how much he wanted to marry you. It was clear that legitimate methods, such as lawfully convicting your fiancé, were failing. Or taking way too long. In your world, these two were one and the same. Your marriage date was not getting postponed, even if you scarred your face the day of.
Agatha was being cruel, but she wasn't wrong. He knew and kept operating like this. You wished Wriothesley was here so you could claw his eyes out. So you could grab your sword and impale the heart he swore was yours. So you could stitch his mouth closed and he'd never tell lies again. So you could embarrass him the same way she just did.
You lunged at her, but she moved out of the way. You landed on the floor, messing up your (favorite color) dress. You never thought your fate could grow crueler. Even the color to your gray was turning out to be a lie.
All you could turn to your back and sob your heart out. Maybe if you avoided Agatha's pitiful gaze... Maybe if Celestia saw your blotched face and heard your cries, she would regret what she wrote as your fate.
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You tried to distract yourself for the rest of the night. You occupied the piano only to play sad pieces and be praised for your "empathy with the composer". You snuck a piece of cake and took a bite before feeling sick again. You walked around the manor and only got a bunch of servants asking if you were alright, and your brother saying: "Don't worry. Whatever moroseness you feel will disappear when you walk down the aisle.". It took everything in you not to burst into tears on the spot.
You couldn't leave this prison you called a manor. The only place you didn't try was the low garden, even if it held the fateful moments of his appearance. Your chase. Your star-gazing. Your first kiss.
At least it wasn't enclosed in walls. It was worth a shot.
It was a night with few stars. You never liked those, because the night you met him was full of them. It was one of the loveliest sights you saw.
It seemed to you like starless nights were a time when most tragedies happened, like tonight and the night Agatha's half-brother- No, brother was exiled. Seriously, you had to correct that "half", even if it was technically true and it hurt her at the moment. You remembered when she started the story with: "My contract has an exclusive clause that I must not tell you this, so please, keep it between us.". And you did. You returned the favor and told her of damning actions that may as well be written in an exclusive clause citing harsh punishment, many of those actions being recent.
You wanted to cry again. Perhaps you still needed to calm down, you thought. Being here didn't help, so it was time to try something new. You left to the kitchen to make lavender and chamomile tea, a brew you often drank before exams or social events. You let the tea leaves steep for a little longer than you should have, hoping that the transitory act of making tea would take up a few more minutes of your miserable day. Once it was ready, you carried the mug to your room, steps as light as they have seen since you learned how to walk.
You set the mug on your desk before crashing down on your bed and taking a deep sigh. By the Archons, what a tiring mess your life was. You had a theory that every noble girl and woman could sleep for the rest of her life. It was tiring: From the acting to the constant monitoring of your actions, you felt like human beings weren't made for this. You were glad your bedroom was away and thus had less sound emerging from it. You were taught to never crash down on your bed as you did, but it was one of those little pleasures. Just like illegitimate snacks and staying up and baltering and twirling around for the pure enjoyment of seeing your skirt float up in circles ('Y/N! Be graceful, your legs are showing!!'), they were the only thing you could be grateful for now. Your governess just joined your family and society's side on how to live, and the man you loved was potentially toying with you all along.
You didn't know which mental picture bothered you more: Wriothesley laughing at your naivete, or Wriothesley courting another woman after he was done with you. It may be the second- no it was definitely the second. The first was horrible, but the second was a far bigger betrayal to you. Agatha would be right: His heart was never yours, his promises were always empty and you may have been blind at parties while he was ogling other women. If it would be because of their faces, should you slash them with a knife or curved dagger? If it were their bodies, should you cut off the parts he was ogling or the ones they liked the most about themselves? Which other women should you go after Wriothesley, if all of this is true? Did he actually prefer common women? Or perhaps... Older, more refined or mature women like your mother?
How could he possibly look at other women when he gave you your first bout of joy, the same way you expected him to give you your first orgasm? If he never wanted you, why would he start all of this?!
But was he looking at other women? During events, you could have sworn that that wasn't true. But what was true anymore? Why wasn't he telling you what was going on? What was going on, why were you the one left in the dark by both him and everyone else about your own future?
Your pained groan ended in its middle when you heard a bark. There was no dog in this room. You looked up to see Frosty on your desk. Unlike the usual, his tail wasn't wagging and he pined once you noticed him. A sad, pitiful pine that expressed you in your current entirety.
"What the- What are you here for? I didn't send Wriothesley anything, do you have something? Wait-".
The window was wide open. Frosty had something in his 'backpack' (did it have the same name for messenger dogs?), but the paper in question was much smaller than the usual letters he sent. The ink looked stronger, too. You opened it. The format of the contents was also starling:
'Y/N
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FOLLOW THE PUP. I CAN'T STAND THIS.
I LOVE YOU, SO PLEASE COMPLY,
WRIOTHESLEY'
"Where to, then?".
Frosty jumped out of the window onto the ledge. Did he want you to climb? Would this be worth it??
You crawled out of the window frame, thankful that your manor's roofs were easy to climb. Most of them had stairs, and there were odd bricks you could stand on for a bit. You hoped they wouldn't renovate it anytime soon.
Frosty led you up to the highest roof, also a good spot for stargazing. You had to give it to him, being so familiar with the house. You sat down but did not wait for longer than a minute. A black gloved hand grasped the ledge, and up came Wriothesley, panting and sweating as if he had a nightmare. His expression only relaxed when it landed on you.
"My Y/N...".
You stood up and waited for him to be next to you, so he wouldn't fall off. Before he could hug you, your hand finally gathered enough force to do what you thought of for hours.
SLAP!
He fell on the bricks, holding his cheek. He looked up to you in the same pitiful, sad way Frosty looked at you. The pup pined at the sight, akin to a child seeing its parents fight.
"Y/N, please...".
You wanted to scream at him. Ask for the bitch's name, whether he liked her tits or face more, what did she have that you didn't, and how dare he prove your family's stance correct. You wanted to ask him whether he even wanted to marry you. If he didn't want to anymore, to just back off and let you go on your rampage and soil your dress with blood. Take his vision and freeze him with his own powers. Whether he saw you as a young, naive maiden and whether that made you a more fun conquest.
Instead, you turned your back to him. You sobbed as quietly as you could. And that was more scalding to Wriothesley than any of the aforementioned violent actions.
"Y/N, I need...".
He stopped and let out a guttural cry you'd only hear in emergency wards. He was hunched over again. You looked back. Was he acting, just like Archandelle?
"I need you to talk to me, my love..."
"Why are you acting as if you were in pain? I'm the one who's being fucked over.".
"Y/N, what's happening? Who hurt... hurt you? Who d-do you need me to kill?".
He had this pained look all along your interaction. He couldn't have known that you were angry at him; You didn't write to him about it, nor have you seen each other.
"What do you mean?".
"Someone hurt you. Badly. Tell me who it is. Talk to me. Give me a name to end.".
You crouched down and noticed that he was clutching the right side of his chest. His fingers were red and something was lodged in the glove. You snatched his hand to take it out. It was a pill you knew too well. You had more than a few acquaintances - all older men - who took it as the last pillar to stay alive.
Heart medicine.
"Did you get addicted to medicine while I wasn't looking?! Why are your fingers red? WHY AREN'T YOU TELLING ME ANYTHING?!? What's happening to you??".
"You... still don't know? About the bracelet?".
You looked at the wolf crest bracelet he gave you. His marking, right in front of your parents. You reached the point where you always wore it on your person, even if not on your wrist.
"What about that?".
"Flip the wolf over...".
You flipped the emblem to find the upside-down wolf, its eye glaring carmine red. Wriothesley turned the emblem on his heart, the usual blue glow replaced by that same hue.
"What the- What is that?"
"Did you forget? Maybe that's why you're in this state. Among...".
He stopped to take deep breaths as if trying to alleviate his pain. His hair was dishevelled and he was soaked in sweat. His eyes were quivered down on his matted head Even his clothes looked rumpled, and his tie done in haste. Wriothesley was always the one who sent other people to the state he was currently in. Now, something was horribly wrong.
Despite your wishes, your own heart hurt looking at him. As he breathed, you wiped the sweat off his forehead. He stopped you at the third swipe, taking your hand and kissing it.
"Among my first vows to you, I said that your pain would be mine, and my heart was yours.".
Among your false and true memories, the ones he mentioned sprung out. Your emblems' glow reduced by a little, although this sickly shade of red was on his face, both within his flesh and the glow.
"I don't understand, Wriothesley.".
"The bracelet. It transmits your pain to my heart. Sometimes I feel it a bit, but I assume that it's because of... Of your current life. And I say: 'It's okay. I'll bust her out of there soon.'. But tonight... It's like you exploded. Something way more horrible than usual has happened. Someone, maybe. I want you to talk to me. I told you before, as husband and wife, we need to communicate habitually.".
"Wriothesley, why your heart? What if you got a heart attack? What if you died? What about me and you?!".
You couldn't help the fresh wave of tears. Gosh, you hated how sentimental you were. You wanted to hate him, but how could you when he bowed to you, his own heart failing because of your state and still making it a priority to hold and kiss your hand? He linked his heart to you, for Focalors' sake! By official guidelines, this is harmful magic, 'not to be used under any circumstance' for a good reason.
"I told you, my heart is yours. Ever since my eyes landed on you, it always has been, just as your pain is mine. And if someday, you're so upset to the point where I risk death, then I would have deserved it for being a bad spouse.".
You threw your arms around him, your eyes hurting from how much you've cried. He did not hesitate in holding you back. If you concentrated, you could feel his heartbeat, regularizing but still way too fast. You didn't want to imagine what a mess it was before he came here.
"Y/N, do you want to regulate my heartbeat? That is your choice.".
"You fucking idiot! Of c-course I do!".
"Talk to me.".
You let go of him, trying to settle down so you could talk. His ears perked up the slightest bit to listen to you, the first time in this interaction. This was good.
"...D-do you love me? Enough to want to marry me?".
Up to the sky the same ears shot, along with his eyebrows.
"What? I do, more than anything I've ever desired! Did someone make you doubt that? Who is it?".
"Wrio... Why is this taking so long? I'm getting married soon. This will be much harder once that happens. I don't want it to happen. Oh, Wriothesley, today sucked, I even got in a fight with Agatha...".
Once you mentioned her name, a barrage of your last month and beyond started. You didn't stop after recounting the fight; There were the times your parents scolded you for having a curl out of place when Archandelle was coming over. Your brother trying to console you with your 'marriage'. Staying at home for days at a time. Memorizing every nook and cranny of the manor. Having to live like a thief, from hiding your love to your late-night tea. How you feared returning to the same state you were in, years right until you met him.
One good thing happened with this. The more you talked, the dimmer the red glow became.
"... Wriothesley, I feel like any woman with some noble connection is cursed. My mother married a man she didn't love. Agatha's husband abused her and she had to pay a lot to get divorced. My grandmother even loathed her husband, but everyone married her off because he'd 'discipline' her. And I have to follow this tradition of unhappy women, but I don't want to. It feels like I have no one to talk to. I feel alone. I hate it...".
You stopped and took a breath, wondering where all this revelation was coming from. You never opened up to Agatha with this much detail and intensity. This must have been waiting for years to get out. Why did your mind pick him, of all people? Was it because you just so happened to be messy at that moment?
Wriothesley held your hand again. His eyes did not fully dry from a few tears that threatened to come out at some point in your talk.
"Wrio, are you okay? Do you want a cup of tea? Did I talk too much? I'm sorry...".
"No, don't apologize Y/N. For once, my heart feels better because you let it out. Archons, I'm so proud of you for talking...".
"No one else would have been.".
"Well, everyone else is a cruel idiot. Everyone else told you to bottle it up, but you still went against them and told me everything.".
"If I am honest with you, can you be honest with me about a few things?".
For the first time in what felt like forever, he smiled. A small, sincere smile that took even more weight off of you. To you, there was nothing more beautiful, because nothing invoked as many happy memories as that curl of the lips. It was like that darned chocolate cupcake that you both reached your coming-of-age social. Part of you teasingly reminded you of your favorite new pastry, which hasn't changed since your first meeting.
"Without a doubt.".
"Is there another woman you love?".
The smile broke and he looked offended.
"So long as a woman is not named 'Y/N Balthazar', and becomes 'Y/N, Duchess of Meropide', then I couldn't care less about her.".
You tried to repress the blush; It was still too early for this.
"Is there nothing in me that you don't like? Anything that would repel you away from me?".
"In the Fontainian foster system, your father, Archandelle, Teyvat and the world, yes. Lots. In you, no.".
Your legs felt sore, so you lied down. He followed suit, by your side.
"Speaking of Archandelle, is anything happening to him or am I doomed?".
"You will not be doomed under my watch. I'm going to answer this question but first...".
He got up, steadier on his legs than he was. He cocked his head to the side, ushering you to follow him. Once you guys reached the topmost ledge of the roof (your favorite, because it loomed over the City), he handed you an item so familiar and loved, yet unseen for a long time: A wind glider.
"I was thinking of something fun to do, and your manor has some great altitude...".
"I haven't used one in ages! I forgot!".
He chuckled: "You've used it before, that's enough to know. Just trust the skies, my dear.".
He grabbed his own and jumped off, but did not fall. The wings deployed immediately, and his limbs relaxed once they spread out. His first landing spot was easy to reach. It was a lower part of your roof.
"Here! This should be a good start. Now jump!".
Sounding more panicked than you liked to admit (and risking your time), you yelled: "You didn't explain anything!! How did you get the wings? How do you- Why are you laughing at me?!".
He didn't want to make you feel insecure, but he couldn't help his laughter. You were like an adorable, helpless child, relying on him to give you the answers.
"You just have to jump, Y/N! Why would I try to get you to break an arm, huh? Just trust me on this!".
You worked hard to recount the few times you got to use a wind glider. What a horrible time becoming a pre-teen was; You were barred of so many wonderful activities, all for the sake of spending your next years securing a husband. What joy did that bring you? No, the real happiness was when you kicked your feet off the high point, spread your arms out, and floated. You were above the manor's walls, the parlor, the court's and Fontaine. It was like being a part of Teyvat itself. It was freeing.
After these long, monochrome years, your body flew again. Your heart with Wriothesley and your form into the sky, softly landing in front of him, on your feet. He smiled widely, his full and societally hated canines on show. Here was a man at least twice your size, smiling like a school boy before he knew of misery.
"You're great at this! Once we marry, you should consider competing in gliding. You'd definitely win a few medals!".
"Hey, you're the one who encouraged me. Let's pick a lower spot.".
And there was another, and another until you were far from your house's roof. It's okay, you were coming back anyway. You always came back, but he was your only betting chip for the opposite. You either had to put your hope on him, or have none at all.
During your last flight, you deactivated your wings and let yourself fall. You knew you could, you knew you wouldn't die. He caught you in his arms, carrying you by the waist.
"Hey... What was that for, my love?".
"I just wanted to skip to this part.".
Tired, you both lay down, with him encircling his arms around you. He put his head on top of your chest. His heartbeat grew slow and regular - He was safe. You were safe. While it was true that safety was but a wisp in your world, you had to cling to it while it lasted. It was the only way you'd pave a life where you could scratch his fluffy ears as slowly as you pleased, grateful to your younger self who took this risk and leave everything she knew behind.
"I didn't tell you about tomorrow yet.".
The wind gliding made you forget! You looked down at his icy eyes and heard him out.
"They're squeezing a confession out of him. I know, because I made sure 'his' cops wouldn't be at the investigation. From there on, it's free ground for him to go to prison.".
"He still has to be tried, though, no?".
"Yes, but it will only be a question of a lifetime sentence with fellow prisoners or in isolation. I feel like I don't have to ask if you're ready for the Pandora's box it will open...".
He tightened his hold. You knew what box he meant: Noble crime is pretty interconnected. It's common for nobles to see out their own class when committing something that a commoner could not get away with. Archandelle's trial and arrest would also mean that many others; lives would be ruined... Including your own father. It was amazing how they knew each other for such little time, and yet they already had several illegal connections.
"You're right. You don't have to ask. I'm looking forward to that trial.".
"So am I, Y/N. I'll be sure to kiss you in front of them after they're convicted. Maybe slobber up and show them too.".
"Eeeeewwww!".
The idea of a (publicly) slobbering Wriothesley was so uncharacteristic, but so funny.
"It's so I can spit on them! Do you think I should add more tongue for the extra scandal?".
"Honestly, just holding hands would be enough for that!".
"But I'm going all the way!".
"You're such a-!!".
What he was, you couldn't think of. Even your laughter quieted at the sight right under your chin: A fondly smiling Wriothesley, with growingly beet-red cheeks and twitching ears. You often theorized that despite him physically being a grown man with an impressive size, there was a boy who just sought out his own happiness, including that with the ones he loves. Just like you.
He leaned his head to give your jaw a long kiss, before whispering in your ear: "You are worth losing everything I've ever desired.".
"Eh?".
"Though I've remained faithful to my goal, I feel like I haven't been taking the right approach.".
He cozied up against your chest again.
"What do you mean, Wrio?".
"Well... When I first declared that I wanted you, I tried asking your father. Do you remember that?".
"How could I forget?".
"And while it's true that I was digging up dirt on Archandelle, I still tried to go the tried-and-true way. Discover some horrible crime, snitch to the Court, sue and let them punish him...".
"Yes?".
You weren't sure where he was going. You looked down to see him gazing at the moon.
"Maybe I shouldn't have. Maybe I should have just showed up to this door and gutted his fetid body. Maybe I should have killed him during the parties.".
Deep down, you knew you wouldn't have an issue with that. In fact, you might even cheer. Why didn't he do it from the start, then? You felt like you had the partial answer in your hand, scratching it just the way he enjoyed.
He chuckled: "You really like my ears, huh?".
"Speaking of which... Is that partly why you didn't start with the violent approach? Because people are already shitty enough to lycanthropes?".
"Smart. I still remember my shock when you told me you liked lycanthrope authors. It was the first time anyone considered my kin to be something good. But there's another reason. A bigger one.".
You couldn't help but jolt up. Bigger than life-ailing discrimination? As a hybrid and noble man, Wriothesley was already a one-in-a-million case, so it would make sense that he'd want to avoid keeping stereotypes.
He broke his gaze from the moon into yours. Maybe that was part of the reason why he loved you so obsessively: Because there was no getting used to your beauty, your voice, your mannerisms, your smarts and your tenderness towards him. He never liked surprises; Routine was a good way to regulate himself and stay on the down low. Surprise was never a pleasant thing for him from his foster parents to the Beret society. But you? You always caught him off guard in some way, possibly without meaning it. You held gleeful surprise and pleasure and the joys he was constantly told about in the orphanage, but never found until he found you.
The shining look of your (eye color) orbs made him take the vow: He was never going to be passive when it came to you again.
"When I first met you, I had no way of knowing whether you would be okay with that drastic measure. Whether... You were just like me. Whether you, too, spent your life seeking out empty promises. Had you been like most people, jumping to violence would be a sure-fire way for you to hate me. Oh, how could I live being hated by you, Y/N? After everything I've been through, it would definitely break me.".
"Wriothesley...".
"The night we met, I played it passively in hopes of not scaring you away, and keeping my own status. Yes, I still get judged, but it's nowhere near as bad as what I've had before. I thought I would be better off not risking what I gained, and acting normal to you. But when I got to know you more, and when I'm risking losing you... I realized what a mistake that was. I don't like what Agatha did tonight, but she was right on one account. I should have snatched you to myself from our first roof exchange.".
He breathed, as if he's been itching to say this all along. When you first laid down, your head was above his. Now he loomed over you again, as well as his body, in a position that you could associate with a soft bed and your first night post-marriage.
Once he dipped down and kissed you, it was your turn to have an irregular heartbeat.
The world felt most beautiful when you two closed the distance between your bodies. They were like two pieces of a puzzle: Molded for each other. His hand slowly ran beyond your knee and on your thigh, the other behind your back. Your arms had to stretch to go around his wide shoulders, but it also you feel safe; He would protect you from anything, including the imposed fate you feared.
That same hand grew higher, and higher, but stopped right before your inner thigh. He broke apart to ask: "May I? I'll stop whenever you want to.".
You raised your leg, as if trying to get him closer: ".Yes..".
Was it just him, or was that more of a moan than a word? Could you even speak in this state? And why did you have to rile him up like this?
He kissed you again, his hand squeezing at the soft meat, then running over your hip. It's not that you were as sheltered as your parents would have liked, but this was your first time being touched like this. It was as if he was awakening nerves you didn't know existed. You didn't feel this sensitive when masturbating.
Getting tired of your thigh, he laced his fingers between your hip and your panties, before sliding them off. Even from there, he picked up on where most of the heat was coming from, and it wasn't your dress' fancy fabric.
He raised himself to lift your skirt up. There was your slit, coated in its own lubrication, and your legs shaking ever so slightly. He hadn't even started and you were already mewling and getting excited, your body already anticipating the orgasm. He couldn't help cooing.
"I can't wait until I make you cum."
You whined, tired of him making you wait, then wrapped an arm around him.
He ran his fingers up and down your vulva, coating them with your juices, before circling around your clit. The sensation made you squeal out. You heard it had thousands of nerves, but what was that?! It was not a cold night, but your entire body was shaking as if you were freezing.
"Ssshhh... We have to be discreet. Do you like this, sweetheart?".
"More... More, please!".
He was not expecting this vocality, but he wasn't complaining. He dipped down to leave little kisses on your collarbone and neck, while he played with your sensitive clitoris. He occasionally gave it a break, running his fingers in circles around your womanhood, flaring up whatever nerves he could find, before rubbing your nub again.
The lovely thing about neck kisses was that you could not avoid his husky-voiced whispers: "I bet he won't make you feel the way I do right now.".
His fingers slipped down to your hole, still circling around it before he would slip in.
"This lovely body and its tremors aren't his, are they?".
"N-no! I swear, they're not!".
He stopped touching you. Don't get him wrong, he loved you, but you were too cute writhing for him to not take advantage of it. He could not wait until he had you all to himself. He might even make you cry from all the pleasure he'd give you. Until then, he had to relish the limited moment he had.
"Sorry, my love, but you haven't convinced me.".
Once frigid and closed, your legs opened up even more: "Wriothesley, please!! You said it, he'll die before he even gets to see me naked, let alone touch me!".
"Oh? So you're trusting that I will take you?".
As he asked, he leaned in close, only a few inches away from kissing you. His hand was creeping back up where you wanted it.
"Yes... I'm yours, I've always been...".
His digits entered your hole. He didn't even have to look for the spot; a few rubs and you had to stop yourself from squealing. You could not stay quiet, not when you've never felt this, not when he was playing with every pleasurable nerve in your body. You were already clenching erratically around him. The more you did, the closer you were...
"Wait! Wait, I-!"
He kissed your neck again: "Let it out, baby.".
You couldn't help it. You screamed. At least you were far from your house, and it was a good type of scream. The type you felt he'd give you every night.
He helped you feel and ride out your entire orgasm, drawing out every bit of pleasure he could, while all you could do was moan out. Once you calmed down, he lowered his eyes to yours again.
"Are you alright?".
"That was amazing...".
"With the way you screamed, I sure hoped so.".
"Shut up.".
He laughed a bit, before kissing you again. This time, it was slower, softer. Tonight was eventful for both of you, after all. At some point, you two broke the kiss but remained in the same position. It was easy to hear his whisper when your foreheads were so close.
"If tomorrow doesn't work, I'll kill him before the ceremony.".
23 notes · View notes
joonie-beanie · 7 months
Text
Doctor's Orders | [Wriothesley x Reader]
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Summary: “Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.” In which a simple tea time turns heated, and you get caught up in the consequence of Wriothesley not listening to his doctor. Content: Smut, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Aphrodisiacs, fem!reader Word Count: 7.9k
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Sigewinne is evil.
You would have never suspected that such a tiny, cute body could contain so much malevolence. (Although, Sigewinne would personally argue that you’re confused, and that the word you’re looking for is actually benevolence. But, you digress.)
It all starts a few weeks into your employment at the Fortress of Meropide.
You’d spotted a job listing for a “personal assistant” in passing one day, and had immediately become interested thanks to the very generous salary listed on the paper. Seeing the job was located in Fontaine’s unofficial prison had, of course, caused you to have some second thoughts about applying, but at the end of the day, money is money.
Which is how you’d found yourself down on the ocean floor, waiting with a few other candidates outside the Duke’s office.
You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t nervous—waiting there to meet the head honcho of the prison. That when he stepped out to call you inside for your interview—all tall and beefy and scarred—your heart didn’t nervously flutter inside your chest.
…but to your surprise, he’s actually much softer than he appears.
“So,” he says, sitting down across from you at his desk. He folds his arms and smiles at you. “Why should I hire you? ”
Having been through this process before, you had immediately rattled off your qualifications and experiences. A few of which Wriothesley had proceeded to comment on and inquire about further. But it wasn’t until he asked—
“What benefit will I receive from picking you specifically?”
And you’d responded with—
“Errand girl.”
“What?”
“I can run errands for you. I’m sure the guards can be slow, going back and forth. But if you’re my direct employer, I can do whatever you want. Drop documents off, check in on things…pick up more tea.”
—that Wriothesley finally makes up his mind.
“Hmm. Very convincing.”
The next day, you receive a letter with the terms of your employment, and your official start date.
So, since then, you’ve been working for Wriothesley. Which is actually kind of…nice.
Your job mostly consists of going back and forth between the prison and the surface, so that Wriothesley can stay in the Fortress and better monitor his domain. The autonomy the job grants you is very rewarding, and in the same breath, Wriothesley also feels rewarded by how you take care of things without him needing to ask more than once.
Safe to say, the two of you get along.
…which Sigewinne notices.
You, of course, meet Sigewinne on your first day. Wriothesley makes a point of introducing you and showing you where the nurse’s office is located, in case you get hurt, or need to drop something off.
The human-like melusine enthusiastically welcomes you, and, at first, you see her as…someone sweet, and caring. A treasure of the prison.
However, over time, your opinion of her slowly starts to change.
Because she keeps looking at you. Specifically, whenever you’re standing next to Wriothesley.
“Why is she doing that?” you ask him one day, nudging him gently with your elbow. He immediately looks up from his meal, over to where Sigewinne is waiting in the lunch line, her pink eyes boring into you.
“She’s probably just double checking that you’re healthy,” Wriothesley responds, paying her no mind. “I often catch her staring at me, too. You must be growing on her.”
Despite his reassuring words, you can’t help but feel a little…put off…by the look in her eyes. Like she’s plotting something.
The second weird thing you notice is when you walk into the infirmary to drop off some herbs she’d asked for, and find her drawing. At first, you assume she’s doodling, since she seems kid-like a lot of the time.
But instead, when you lean over her shoulder and look, you see that she’s writing words. A big, black “DO NOT DISTURB”...with pink hearts and a few flowers drawn around it.
“What’s that for?” you ask her, forcing a smile.
“Oh! It’s just for a project I’m working on,” she responds, swiveling in her chair to face you. She happily kicks her feet, her eyes darting to the herbs you’re carrying with you.
“Ah, are those what I asked for? Thank you!”
You hand her the small bundle of dried flowers and grasses, watching as she immediately turns and places them on her desk next to some string, and cheesecloth.
“You’re welcome,” you respond, taking a small step backwards. “If that’s all, I’ll keep working on the rest of the tasks on my list—”
“Wait,” she says, grabbing your wrist. You instantly freeze, your eyes going wide as you turn back to face her. There’s a serious look on her face.
“How do you feel about Wriothesley?”
Her question makes your heart skip—heat rising on your skin.
“What?”
She doesn’t bother elaborating or giving you context, just waits for you to respond. You cough a little, feeling awkward, and wondering what kind of answer she’s looking for.
“Well…I mean. I think he’s a good boss. He’s friendly, and devoted to his job. He runs the prison well.”
Sigewinne nods, but doesn’t comment. Just keeps…staring.
Feeling pressured, you force yourself to think of more to say.
“Um…he’s deserving of his title and the respect he garners. I…enjoy speaking with him? Like when he invites me to partake in tea breaks. I dunno…he just kinda reminds me of a big, fluffy puppy. He looks scary but he’s actually pretty…cute, y’know?”
Finally, Sigewinne smiles. She takes your hand in her tiny ones, giving it a squeeze.
“Thank you for answering my question. You can go now.”
You blink at her dumbly, but nonetheless excuse yourself from the room.
Two days later, Wriothesley invites you to his office for tea. And to your surprise, when you walk in, you find Sigewinne waiting there as well.
“Thank you for coming!” she says as you enter the room. You flash her a smile, taking a seat in one of the open chairs around the table.
“Of course!”
“Sigewinne has a tea she wants us both to try,” Wriothesley explains, a fond look in his eyes as he watches the resident nurse flit around—pouring hot water into the teacups that have been set out.
You nod.
“I see.”
“Although, I don’t know why you won’t just steep the tea in the pot,” Wriothesley complains to her, just as Sigewinne places individual tea bags in each cup. “Are we not all being served the same tea?”
She cutely huffs.
“For your information, no we are not. Your and Y/N’s tea is unique.”
“Oh?” Wriothesley leans forward to look into the teacups as the colors from the herbs begin to bleed into the water. “What’s so unique about it?”
“You’ll see,” she responds with a playful look, one that causes Wriothesley to amusedly raise his eyebrows. However, he doesn’t say anything more—simply waiting for the tea to appropriately steep.
“...are you using the herbs I brought you?”
You can’t help but notice the smell wafting from the cup in front of you is a little familiar. Sigewinne nods.
“Wow! I’m surprised you noticed.”
“Ah, so this must be the reason you wanted me to lend you Y/N for a task the other day,” Wriothesley chimes in, his icy blue eyes once again shifting to Sigewinne. 
“Do I get to know what herbs you requested Y/N to bring you, exactly?”
The resident nurse shakes her head, quietly laughing when Wriothesley sighs and deflates back into his chair. 
“It’s meant to be a surprise! I want to see what you think about the taste without knowing the ingredients.”
“I suppose that’s fair.”
Folding your hands on your lap, the office descends into silence for a brief moment, the three of you intently watching the teacups in front of you. Then, Sigewinne finally claps her hands and declares—
“Okay, they’ve steeped long enough. Go ahead!”
“Finally,” Wriothesley happily mumbles, reaching forward to pick up the pristine little plate on which his cup of tea resides. He brings the cup to his nose, inhaling deeply, and then takes a tentative sip.
“Hmm…”
He frowns, his brows pinching as he tries to discern the flavors he’s tasting. 
Curiosity getting the better of you, you take a sip from your own cup—wincing as the hot liquid accidentally burns your tongue.
“So?” Sigewinne prompts, staring excitedly between the two of you.
“It’s…pleasant,” you respond, clearly not as big of a tea connoisseur as the Duke. “It has a hint of sweetness.”
“It tastes like a Rainbow Rose smells,” Wriothesley adds, taking another sip. His gaze slides to you. “Did you pick some for her?”
You shake your head.
“No, I didn’t. Or…at least I didn’t pick any fresh ones. I did go to a vendor and purchase something in a bottle that looked like crushed, pink dust.”
Sigewinne cutely laughs. 
“As expected of you, Your Grace. Yes, one of the ingredients is dried Rainbow Rose petals. Do you like it?”
Wriothesley makes a pleased sound.
“I do. The taste is light, but pleasant—like Y/N said.”
“Good! I want both of you to drink up.” 
Sigewinne finally picks up her own tea, and you can’t help but notice the difference in color when compared to yours and Wriothesley’s. She really is drinking something different…but why?
“Aye aye, captain,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne laugh. You smile at the cute interaction between them, and have some more of your tea as well.
Together, the three of you engage in friendly conversation—catching up about recent topics while indulging in tea and a few different snacks that Wriothesley had pulled out for the occasion. As you drink, you can’t help but notice you feel…warm. A heat that spreads out from your stomach, and slowly creeps into your limbs.
You’ve never felt this way before but…maybe the tea is just extra hot today? 
You glance up to Wriothesley and notice that he’s a little flushed as well. Which is…reassuring? You think. Since you’re obviously not the only one affected.
“Oh! Y/N!” 
Sigewinne’s sudden call of your name draws you from your thoughts, and you look over at her. She smiles.
“I forgot to ask, but are you dating anyone?”
“Sigewinne,” Wriothesley gently scolds. He leans forward and sets his teacup on the table, the cup now empty.
His tone practically says “It’s not appropriate to ask questions like that” without actually saying it. Sigewinne pouts.
“Aww, c’mon. We’re all friends here! I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”
Hearing that the melusine considers you to be a friend, you decide to grace her with an answer—ignoring the tingling of the taste buds on your tongue.
“No, I am not seeing anyone,” you inform her with a polite smile. Sigewinne nods happily at your answer, which makes your smile waver.
Is she happy you’re single?? Ouch.
“Okay, good,” she says. “I’d feel a little bad, otherwise.”
You blink in confusion at her words, watching her as she pops off her chair and heads towards the door. Wriothesley raises an eyebrow at her.
There’s sweat beading on his brow.
“Where are you going?”
“Away,” she responds. “To give you two some privacy.”
You and Wriothesley glance at each other, mirroring each other’s confusion.
Your tummy starts to ache.
“Why are you leaving us alone, exactly?”
Stopping just in front of the office doors, Sigewinne turns on her heel to face the two of you. There’s a smug grin on her face. 
“This is what happens when you don’t follow doctor’s orders.”
You frown, raising a hand to your chest, wondering why your heart is suddenly racing. 
What’s this about doctor’s orders?
You glance over at Wriothesley…only to see that he’s frozen in shock—his eyes wide with realization.
His pants feel too tight.
“Sigewinne, you did not—”
There’s an edge to his voice when he speaks, his eyes narrowing. He plants his feet on the floor and prepares to stand and confront her, but before he can blink, Sigewinne has drawn her pistol—a tranquilizing bullet hitting him square in the chest, where a little patch of skin is showing. 
He makes a noise of surprise, and quickly flops back into his chair to avoid falling on the floor—his limbs immediately going numb.
“Sigewinne!” you gasp. You’re not sure what’s going on, but the fact that she’d just shot Wriothesley is…
“It’s okay,” she says with a little sigh. “The effect will wear off in a few minutes. And…I’m sorry I scared you. Let me explain…”
She holsters her gun and smiles at you, trying to calm you down.
“As the nurse of the Fortress of Meropide, it is my duty to look after all residents, including Your Grace. And over the last few months, I’ve noticed him becoming more… irritable.”
“Sigewinne…,” Wriothesley mumbles, but the girl waves him off.
“After observing him for a while, I realized that his stress levels were getting high. And as his doctor, I recommended him a way to manage his stress, but he refused. He insisted tea was enough to soothe his nerves, but that’s simply not true. So…when you started working here, and I saw how well the two of you were getting along, I…got an idea.”
Sigewinne glances over at Wriothesley, noticing how he’s begun to shift his boots against the floor. 
Her tranquilizers won’t be in effect much longer. They never work as well on people Wriothesley’s size…
So, she decides to cut to the chase.
Reaching into her pocket, Sigewinne pulls out the DO NOT DISTURB sign you’d seen her making the other day. She holds it in front of her, and beams at you.
“Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.”
“You…you drugged us?” you gape, completely thrown by everything she’s just told you. She immediately gets defensive, her cheeks puffing.
“I medicated you,” she corrects. “And in the end, I’m only acting as a doctor. This all could have been avoided if Your Grace had just taken care of his own needs, as I’d insisted. Since he didn’t, I could only logically assume it's because it’s his preference to have a partner, rather than going at it solo. So, if you want to blame anyone for this, please blame him.”
“Sigewinne—” 
Gripping the arms of his chair, Wriothesley breathes out a heavy sigh and begins to push himself up. You can’t help but notice his face is much redder now, and you’re not sure if it’s from embarrassment, the effects of the drugs, or both.
Seeing that Wriothesley has nearly regained his strength, Sigewinne hurries to exit his office.
“Anyway! The effects of the tea should wear off in a few hours, but only if you relieve yourselves. Otherwise, it will last much longer. So I suggest you let loose and indulge yourselves. You like each other! Enjoy this time!”
Wriothesley opens his mouth to say something, but his words catch in his throat the second Sigewinne opens his office door. He doesn’t want anyone outside of his office walls to hear him or know what’s going on.
“I’ll hang this sign on the door,” Sigewinne continues, her voice hushing. “So no one comes in while you two are…busy. Just remove it once you’re done, okay? Have fun!”
With a supportive little fist pump, Sigewinne then closes the door, leaving you and Wriothesley alone.
A few long beats of silence pass, then Wriothesley finally sighs.
"I…apologize for this. I never meant for you to get roped in."
You turn to look at him, only to find that he's standing with his back to you, his hand raising to rub at the back of his head.
You can see his muscles flexing as he does so, and you hate to admit that it causes the heat inside you to grow.
"It's…not your fault," you respond, laughing a little awkwardly. "I doubt it's easy to follow directions when your doctor tells you to jack off to rectify your hardass-ness."
Wriothesley glances at you over his shoulder.
"Have I been acting like a hardass?"
"You've been a little snippy at times," you tell him, smoothing your sweaty palms down your legs. Seriously, your clothes are starting to make you feel claustrophobic…
"Not to me, specifically. But I've noticed it towards some of the prison residents."
"Shit," he sighs, rubbing his temples. You continue to watch him, your eyes wandering the expanse of his back. For a second, you don't understand why he won't face you. Then it clicks.
"...are you…hard? Is that why you're not turning around?"
"It's…pretty bad," Wriothesley admits, his shoulder sagging in defeat. "I don't know what all was in that tea but…as an aphrodisiac, it's doing its job."
"Yeah…," you agree, swallowing heavily. You can feel wet arousal pooling on the fabric of your panties. His office has also started to feel like a sauna, but you're not sure if it's the air that's hot, or your body.
However, you're still not willing to breach the topic of "relief" with him. You haven't reached that level of desperation…yet .
So, you think of something else to carry the conversation in the meantime.
"So…Sigewinne said you like me?"
"Ah, you caught that."
He laughs a little, and begins pacing around the room, still careful to keep his back to you. You can't help but notice his stride is a little…impeded.
"If I'm being frank—yes, I do. You've been…a pleasure to have around, since I hired you. Actually, one of the reasons I picked you in the first place was because of how you acted during your interview. Most people are scared of me and therefore talk cautiously. You're certainly respectful, of course, but…you're a bit playful, as well. And I found that quality to be attractive."
"Ah, so I charmed you," you respond playfully. "Remind me to add that point to my resume later. "Managed to woo the Lord of the Fortress of Meropide". That sounds pretty good—"
"And there you go again," Wriothesley laughs. He steps behind the chair he'd been sitting in previously, and then finally turns to face you—the back of the chair tall enough that his lower half is out of sight. 
"Although, if I recall her words correctly, Sigewinne stated that we "like each other". So, is there something you'd like to say as well?"
Your eyes go wide, and you feel more blood rush into your head. Wriothesley smiles, wide enough to show teeth. 
"C’mon now. It's not fair that I praise you and get nothing in return."
You pout.
"To be fair, I didn't know why Sigewinne suddenly asked me what I thought of you…"
"That’s understandable, but still. I'd like to know what you told her."
Wriothesley maintains his playful demeanor, despite the way his knuckles begin to turn white at his sides—a deep-seated need slowly sinking its claws into him.
You sigh.
"I just…told her that you're a good boss, and are deserving of your titles and the respect you garner…"
You trail off, suddenly remembering the last thing you'd told Sigewinne during that conversation. Wriothesley clearly notices there's something you're leaving out, one of his eyebrows raising.
"And?"
You take a deep breath.
"That you're a cute puppy."
He blinks in shock.
"...excuse me?"
Oh god, you wanna phase through the floor.
"I said that even though you look scary, you're really just like a big…cute…puppy."
For a moment, Wriothesley can only stare at you. Then, he throws his head back and laughs. 
Embarrassed, you plant your palms on your thighs and push to your feet, instinctively wanting to run away…only to realize that your legs have gone weak. 
With a distraught noise, you flop back into your chair. 
Out of the corner of his eye, Wriothesley notices.
He coughs, pulling himself back together.
"Well, I've certainly never heard myself described in such a way before. I can't say I totally hate it, but I'm not sure if I agree with the term "puppy"."
You force an awkward laugh, finally losing steam as the arousal inside you begins to cloud your thoughts. Sigewinne obviously wasn't messing around when making her aphrodisiac…you've never felt so horny before that it has literally hindered your mental and physical faculties.
The office is silent for a few tense moments, but finally, Wriothesley heaves a heavy sigh. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his shoulders slumping as he hangs his head.
"You may revoke your good opinion of me, considering how inappropriate it is for a boss to even consider such a thing, but…I think my dick is gonna explode soon, so I'll just come out and ask."
You swallow, anticipating his next words.
"Would you be…interested in having sex?"
Your body shivers in excitement at the idea, the lustful part of your brain screaming at you to jump him already.
"I…would," you admit, managing to keep it together. Wriothesley's entire body jolts impatiently at your words, but he’s able to keep himself grounded. 
"I don't think I'll be able to survive…this without some relief. And…I trust you. So…"
"So we're in agreement," Wrioslethely supplies, waiting for your confirmation. You nod your head. 
"We are."
In the next beat, he's is crossing the space between you, a "thank god" barely making it past his lips before he crashes them into yours.
Immediately, you’re groaning into him—your arms wrapping around his neck and his hands finding the backs of your thighs. He lifts you from your chair easily—your chests pressing together as he holds you close.
You’ve always been acutely aware of how large Wriothesley is, but you don’t think it fully sinks in until now—as he manhandles you with ease, quite literally carrying you with one arm as the other sneaks beneath your shirt and tugs it over your head.
You’re forced to break the kiss as he does so, but the second the fabric has been discarded, you’re tangling your fingers in his hair and dragging him in for another. 
Your action evokes a pleased little rumble inside his chest.
“You taste sweet,” he mumbles, his palm roaming over the exposed skin of your back. The warmth of his skin against yours makes you ache.
“It’s probably the aphrodisiac,” you reply breathlessly, a shiver raking your spine when you feel his fingers toy at the waistband of your pants.
“Hmm, shall we posit your theory?”
Before you can even think to ask what he means, the room is spinning—too many things happening at once. However, it’s nearly impossible to miss the feel of your pants being shucked down your legs.
When everything settles, you find that you’re no longer chest to chest with Wriothesley, but rather, face to dick.
“Wh—”
Your cheeks heat up as you finally digest the position he’s put you in—your ass in his face, and his crotch in yours—his body now firmly planted in a chair as he spreads his thighs and makes himself comfortable.
“Wriothesley!” you say in shock, your palms gripping his legs for support as you attempt to turn and face him. However, you quickly realize with the position he has chosen, you’re fairly helpless to do anything—completely at his mercy as he locks his arms around your legs and grips your ass in his hands.
“Hm?” he responds nonchalantly, one of his fingers slipping under the edge of your panties. You shift a little, trying to glare at him, but only succeed in having his clothed dick poke you in the cheek. He tenses at the sensation, and you feel his cock strain helplessly against the fabric of his pants—begging for more friction.
“I’m just testing your theory, like I said,” he continues, a surprised mewl tearing from your throat as he leans his head forward and nuzzles his nose in the damp fabric of your panties.
“If you think it’s the aphrodisiac making you sweet, let’s see if it’s also having that effect elsewhere—”
Before you can protest, Wriothesley is tugging the crotch of your underwear aside—his tongue licking a hot, languid strip between your folds. You gasp at the feeling, your nails digging into his thighs through the layer of clothes that he wears.
Above you, the Duke makes a pleased sound, repeating his previous action—noting the way your body writhes against his hold. His fingers grip your ass tighter, his brows furrowing as he presses his tongue inside your entrance—your arousal quickly coating his taste buds.
“Yep,” he mutters after a moment, his voice tight and his throat bobbing as he harshly swallows. “You taste…addicting.”
His words have your cunt squeezing around nothing, although he quickly dives back in and rectifies that problem—stretching your walls out around his tongue. 
“Fuck…,” you pant, your head dropping as your strength wanes. Your muscles progressively start to feel like jelly, thanks to his ministrations. Especially, when he moves his mouth to your clit and begins rolling his tongue around it—a whine escaping you as the desire inside of you sears white hot.
And yet, despite the way Wriothesley presses on—groaning into your pussy as he eats you out—you’d be remiss to forget about the fact that he’s currently affected by the aphrodisiac as well, and has his own needs that need to be taken care of.
So, gathering what strength you have, you manage to push yourself up onto your forearms—your hands moving to the waistband of his pants. You frantically work open the button and zipper of his slacks, and then hook your fingers under the elastic of his underwear, tugging the band down.
…only to have his freed cock immediately spring up and smack you in the face.
Your eyes go wide, and in normal circumstances, you’d expect Wriothesley to laugh at the comedy of what has just occurred. However, too immersed in the way your cunt tastes and feels, and the way your body continues to twitch in his hold, he doesn’t even notice. And, too amazed by the sheer size of Wriothesley’s dick as you finally lean your head back and get a good look at him, you don’t bother saying anything.
No, instead you simply part your lips and take the head of his cock into your mouth—sucking lightly, your tongue teasing at his slit. The groan that’s immediately torn from his throat is involuntary—the sound becoming muffled by your pussy as he momentarily stops to savor the feeling of your mouth on his dick—your tongue flattening on the underside of his shaft as you slowly take more of him into your mouth.
Then, he goes back to eating you out with renewed fervor—your eyes nearly rolling back into your skull when he sucks at your clit.
The room quickly fills with the sound of sloppy and messy oral, your head bobbing up and down Wriothesley’s cock. Saliva drips down his length, his pre-cum smearing against your tongue, and you can’t help but moan.
Everything feels so good—from Wriothesley’s tongue on your cunt, to the way his cock fills up your mouth…
“Fuck,” Wriothesley growls. His fingers move to pull at the folds of your pussy, spreading you open wider. You can feel his hot breath on your skin as he moves his mouth back to your clit, where he then stays—his tongue flicking rhythmically against the sensitive bundle of nerves.
The pace and motion he settles on is one that you know will very quickly damn you, and he figures this out as well based on the way your thighs begin to shake in his grasp. Your body attempts to jolt away from him—trying to escape the onslaught of pleasure he intends to give—but he leaves no wiggle room. He holds you tighter, enjoying the feeling of your mouth on his cock, and how your efforts slowly start to crumble along with your sanity.
“I…,” you mumble the word around dick, trying to warn him of the orgasm you can feel quickly approaching. Your entire body swims with arousal, your head feeling light. 
“Keep going, sweetheart,” he pants. “Let’s cum together.”
You feel his cock throb against your tongue, and, dutifully, you do your best to continue sucking him off—your lips once again suctioning around his shaft. Your actions immediately evoke a pleased groan from the Duke, and you feel his thighs tense in your grasp—his own orgasm quickly approaching.
However, despite your best efforts to continue, everything falls apart the second your climax finally crests.
With a cry, you come undone—your body writhing in his hold. You go brainless almost immediately, the strength in your arms wavering, and Wriothesley’s cock stuffing into your cheek—your hot breath fanning over his length.
Luckily, the vulgarity of the entire situation is enough to push Wriothesley over the finish line—his dick painting the inside of your mouth with his cum. And to his surprise, once he’s spent, you actually pull your head back, close your lips, and swallow.
Shit, he thinks. 
His dick is just starting to soften, and yet somehow, it’s also already getting hard again.
There’s a few beats of quiet that are filled only with the sound of you and Wriothesley panting. Then, once he’s caught his breath, he says���
“Let’s get you right side up.”
—and the world spins again.
Honestly, the fact that he can manhandle you this easily is criminal.
“You okay?” he asks, sitting you on one of his thighs. He brushes a few stray hairs from your face, staring at you with a hint of concern.
You nod your head, grateful that the carnal desire you’ve been afflicted with is clearly less, now that you and Wriothesley have both gotten off. But…even despite that, you still feel hot and tingly. Like you want more.
You glance down at his lap.
“Mmm. Seems like you’re in the same predicament as me.”
“Think you can handle another round?” he asks. You meet his eyes, playfully raising your eyebrows.
“I’m almost tempted to say no, and see what you do.”
Wriothesley rolls his eyes, his hands grabbing your waist, and in the next moment, you find yourself slung over his shoulder.
“Hey—!” you protest, attempting to look at him, but he only caresses your ass with his free hand.
“If you have that much spunk left in you, you can handle another round,” he says, carrying you down the nearby staircase, to the floor below his office. “But, I’ll be kind this time and make you more comfortable.”
His boots echo against the metal floor as he walks, and for a second, you wonder where exactly he’s taking you. But, soon after, Wriothesley pushes through a nearby door, and you find yourself in a moderately sized bedroom.
It must be his, you realize, feeling a little silly that you’d never pondered before now where the Master of the prison actually sleeps.
“Here we are.”
Wriothesley gently deposits you onto his bed, and then immediately reaches for his tie. You watch him with bated breath, your heart doing a tiny flip as you realize that he’s finally stripping out of his clothes. He opts to leave on the leather belts encircling his arms and neck, instead focusing the bulk of his time on shedding his suit, and undoing the many buckles on his boots. 
By the time he’s finished—his erect cock once again sitting heavy between his legs—you’re practically drooling at the sight of him.
His lips twitch into a little smile.
“I’m happy to know that you like what you see. However, in the time I spent undressing myself, you couldn’t be bothered to remove what little clothing you have left? C’mon now, are you waiting for me to wrestle you out of them?”
Still feeling cheeky, you flash him a grin.
“Hm, I’d like to see you try.”
Wriothesley immediately cocks an eyebrow, his eyes glinting at the challenge you’ve just issued, and your attitude wavers, realizing what it is you’ve done. You open your mouth to say you’re only teasing—your hands already raising behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra—but it’s too late.
In one swift motion, Wriothesley grabs your ankle and twists you onto your stomach—his weight settling above you as he kneels onto the bed. You shiver when his knuckles brush against your skin—his fingers swiftly undoing your bra.
“You’re just a little brat, aren’t you…” 
He speaks the words fondly, with a hint of amusement, and yet, they still go straight to your cunt. 
“Don’t say things like that,” you respond, instinctively raising your hips when Wriothesley hooks his fingers on your underwear and begins tugging them down your thighs. He stares intently at your backside as he does so, an idea popping into his mind.
“Why? Because you like it too much?”
He discards your panties on the floor along with the rest of the clothes you’d both shed, and then grabs your knees, forcing you to spread your legs, so he can properly settle between them. 
Another blush rises on your face at his words, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. At your lack of response, Wriothesely continues.
“In my understanding, brats tend to like it a little rougher, so…” 
His hands ghost up your thighs, to your hips, and he grips you tightly—forcing your lower half off the bed until you’re propped up on your knees—his cock sitting heavy against your ass.
“...what say we continue like this, hm?”
Bracing yourself on your forearms, you turn your head back to look at him—your body tensing as you watch him fist his cock and drag it downward, between the lips of your pussy. 
His icy eyes catch yours.
“Any objection?”
“...no,” you mumble, your fingers anticipatedly fisting in the sheets. 
Wriothesley nods—
“Good.”
—and then presses the head of his cock inside you.
Immediately, you drop your forehead against the mattress—willing your body to relax for him as he slowly inches inside of you.
His tongue had certainly been enjoyable, but this? Fuck. Nothing compares to the sensation of him slowly stuffing you inch by inch—the girth of his cock positively delicious as he forces your cunt to stretch to accommodate him.
It’s so much that by the time he’s fully seated inside of you, your body is shaking—your breath coming out in quick, desperately little pants.
Seeing your reaction, Wriothesely soothes a hand up your spine, his warm palm settling between your shoulder blades. He decides to start slow—to give you a little more time to adjust to him. 
And honestly, he’d love to take his time in general—to really savor the sight of you beneath him, your cunt swallowing his cock so perfectly, but alas. The effects of the aphrodisiac make him impatient with need, and it’s not long before he’s moving faster—little gasps and whines finding their way past your lips as he begins fucking you back onto his cock.
“Ahh…seriously you’re…so fucking tight,” he curses. His fingers dig into the plush of your hip—his jaw clenching, and his racing heart pumping lust through his veins.
Your cunt clamping on his dick seriously might be his personal slice of heaven.
“Wrio, I—,” you can’t even get the words out, your brain short-circuiting. You can’t think straight anymore—not with his cock rubbing you in all the right spots, making a mess of your insides, and quickly rocketing you towards another—
Wait, no, it’s only been a minute—!
“Fuck! ” 
You choke the word out, your spine curving and your knuckles turning white as your second orgasm of the night is unexpectedly forced out of you—your pussy spasming around Wriothesley’s dick.
The last of your strength officially drained, you collapse forward onto the mattress, your cheek smushing into the covers.
…however, Wriothesley doesn’t allow your lower half to fall along with the rest of you—his hold on your hips keeping your twitching pussy firmly planted on his still-hard dick.
“We’re not done yet, sweetheart,” he reminds you, his cock continuing to languidly drag between your walls, drawing out the tail end of your pleasure.
You can’t help but whimper at his words, already feeling a bit oversensitive thanks to two consecutive orgasms. Wriothesley does his best to soothe your frayed nerves.
Leaning over you, he gently tangles his fist in your hair—coaxing your head off the mattress so he can kiss you. 
The kiss is messy, but sweet—the angle of your bodies forcing his cock deeper inside of you, his hips completely flush against your ass.
“You’re doing so good,” he tells you, peppering a trail of kisses against your cheek, and across your jaw. His praise causes you to whimper, a shiver raking up your spine when his tongue drags across your skin—his teeth nipping at the nape of your neck.
His actions successfully get you to relax—your body becoming more pliable in his grasp as he once again begins to move. And soon enough, the wet sound of sex fills his bedroom once more.
Wanting to help him cum (and to feel his seed fill you), you do your best to help Wriothesley along—purposefully flexing the walls of your pussy as he fucks you. However, in doing so, you accidentally start yourself down the path of yet another orgasm…
Feeling the familiar, aching pleasure beginning to build inside of you once again, you quickly stop what you’re doing. You think that a third orgasm honestly might kill you, but…it’s too late.
Wriothesley has already noticed your growing arousal, and decides that he likes it better when the two of you cum together.
So, he sneaks one of his hands between the apex of your legs, and begins rubbing at your clit.
The garbled, desperate cry that leaves your mouth immediately becomes seared in his mind for a long time to come.
“No, Wrio, I…I can’t. I—”
Your words come out jumbled, tears beading on your lash line.
Momentarily removing his hand from your clit, he once again reaches forward and grips your hair—pulling your head back so he can kiss you. His lips swallow up your worries.
“You can,” he insists, his voice whispering in your ear, and his hot breath fanning over your skin. 
“I want you to cum with me, pretty girl. You can do it.”
You give no protest aside from a cute little whine, and that's good enough for Wriothesley.
Releasing your hair, his hand finds your clit once more.
He then proceeds to fuck you into the mattress—pursuing his orgasm with abandon. A groan leaves his mouth at the way your pussy starts clamping on his dick once again—tightening up with each pass of his fingers across your clit—your pussy slick and messy with your own arousal.
Unable to think straight, you can only hold on for dear life—clinging to his sheets like a lifeline. You can’t even process the sounds that are coming out of your own mouth—a damned, desperate symphony moans.
To Wriothesley, it all sounds like a siren's cry—beckoning him closer to the edge.
“Shit,” he pants, feeling his cock throb, and his balls tighten. The motion of his fingers on your clit quickens—your toes curling as the coil of pleasure in your tummy continues to wind—so close to snapping.
Sweat beading on his brow, Wriothesley leans forward, curling his body against yours. His teeth nip at the shell of your ear, his husky voice sending goosebumps across your skin.
“So good for me…,” he breathes, his hips smacking into your ass. His broad strokes deteriorate into needy rutting, and the sensation has you quite literally sobbing—his cock now incessantly grinding into your g-spot.
You can’t take it anymore.
Shoving your face into the mattress, you bite the sheets and scream—your entire body shaking as you cum for a third time, your cunt milking around Wriothesley’s cock.
He curses at the feeling, his face burying in your neck. Wrapping his arms around you, he hugs you to his body—fucking inside of you a few more times before finally joining you in ecstasy. 
His teeth sink into you as his orgasms peaks, a heady groan muffled against your skin as his balls empty—pumping you full of his cum.
It’s not until the intensity of his pleasure has died down that Wriothesley ultimately releases you from his hold—your lower half immediately flopping down onto the bed, and his softening cock slipping out of you.
The Duke takes a moment to simply look at you, and how fucked out you are. Your eyes bleary, skin flushed, and the imprint of his teeth engraved in your flesh.
He grunts at the sight, and settles in beside you—his arm curling around your waist as he tugs you back against him. His tongue immediately begins lapping at the bite mark he’d inflicted, attempting to soothe the sting.
After a few seconds, you begin shaking, and Wriothesley immediately pauses, scared that he’s hurt you in some way.
…only to realize that you’re laughing.
“...puppy…”
He props himself up, glancing at you.
“What?”
“You really are like a puppy,” you giggle, your finger lifting to brush a stray tear from your eye. “The way you bit me, and then immediately started licking at it in apology. So cute…”
You break into another tiny fit of laughter, and Wriothesley rolls his eyes, yet can’t help cracking a smile.
“Well, I’m glad to know I didn’t break you, at the very least.”
His hand rubs against your waist.
“...right?”
Finally getting ahold of yourself, you roll onto your back and smile at him, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek. He immediately leans into your touch, and it makes your heart flutter.
“I’m not broken, no. Just…sore. And gross. And sweaty.”
Wriothesley chuckles.
“Well, I think I can rectify some of those issues. I do have a bathroom, with a tub.”
“Wow,” you respond, watching him as he scoots to the edge of the mattress and gets to his feet. He waits a second for you to join him, but you don’t move.
“My…limbs feel like jello,” you admit, raising your arm and flopping it back down bonelessly for emphasis. Wriothesley rolls his eyes, but nonetheless leans over the bed and scoops you into his arms.
You rest your cheek against his chest, admiring for the first time how soft it really is.
“Whatever shall I do with you,” he playfully sighs, carrying you into the adjacent bathroom. He sets you on the vanity, moving over to the tub and turning on the tap for the hot water. You hum.
“Mmm, I can think of a few things you can do. The first of which is helping me into the bath once it’s ready.”
Wriothesley quietly chuckles. Returning to your side, he takes your hand, and brings it to his lips.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Once the tub has filled, the Duke keeps true to his word—once again carefully cradling you in his arms as he seats himself in the tub basin, before positioning you in the space between his legs.
The steaming water immediately soothes the ache of your body, and you sigh in relief—sinking back against Wriothesley’s body. He lightly wraps one arm around your waist, the other resting on the edge of the tub.
For a few long minutes, the two of you bask in silence, simply enjoying the refreshing feel of the bath. 
…then, you start to notice something beginning to grow—pressing at your back.
“...really? Is the aphrodisiac still getting to you that much?”
“No,” he admits after a beat, leaning forward to kiss your neck. “I think this one is actually all me.”
You roll your eyes, but nonetheless crane your head to the side—allowing him access to more of your skin as his mouth begins to wander.
“I thought I made it clear that my limbs are jello right now.”
“I can work with that,” he responds, and you feel him grin. His hand slowly trails down your stomach, and between your legs.
“I’ll do all the work. You just get to make pretty sounds and feel good.”
His fingers slide between the folds of your pussy, and you jolt as he passes over your overly-sensitive clit. But seriously…how are you going to say no to him?
“What am I going to do with you?” you sigh, echoing his earlier words. His chest rumbles with laughter, and he grabs your chin with his free hand—turning your head so he can kiss you.
“Mmm, I can think of a few things.”
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The next morning, you find yourself in a back in your clothes, standing beside Wriothesley just inside his office door.
“I’ll go first,” you say, to which he nods. “I have some errands to run anyway. You can wait a minute and then come out after me.”
“Sounds good.”
The two of you stare at each other for a second, before you finally square your shoulders, and reach for the door handle. 
Before you can twist it, Wriothesley catches your wrist. When you look back at him, you find that there’s a blush on his cheeks.
“So, I’ll…see you later?”
His suddenly bashful demeanor causes you to smile. Pressing onto your toes, you cup his cheeks and softly kiss him. He immediately grabs your waist—deepening the kiss.
“You’ll see me later,” you promise. 
With that, the two of you finally separate, and you disappear through his office door.
Wriothesley takes a deep breath at your departure, combing a hand through his hair as he waits for the right moment to make his own exit.
To be safe, he decides to wait a good few minutes. But finally, he opens his door—preparing to venture into the main area of the fortress, and make his normal rounds.
…however, he only makes it a step before remembering the sign Sigewinne had made.
With a sigh, he immediately backtracks and tears the DO NOT DISTURB sign off of his door, crumpling it between his palms.
When he turns back around, he nearly jumps—Sigewinne standing right in front of him.
“So,” she says, a pleased grin on her face. “How’d it go?”
Narrowing his eyes, Wriothesley only stares ahead, and walks past her. She easily follows after him.
“The fact that you’re out and about this early in the day means something likely happened between you and Y/N.”
“No comment,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne giggle. They pass by a few prisoners as Wriothesley makes a B-line for the elevator to the production zone. Once there, Sigewinne squeezes herself in along with him.
As the elevator begins to descend, only a few seconds pass in silence, before Sigewinne asks one last question.
“As your doctor, it’s my recommendation that you continue to regularly relieve your stress. So, are you going to be dutifully carrying out my orders from now on?”
Wriothesley makes a little face, glancing away from her.
“...maybe.”
Sigewinne smiles. 
That’s good enough for her.
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ickadori · 7 months
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++ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘
[summary] wrio’s spouse winds up in prison. special treatment ensues.
[cws] gender neutral reader. fluff.
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“What you did was incredibly stupid.”
“I’d like to think it was very brave, actually.” You quip back, lips pursed as you turn up your chin. “You should be proud of me, really.”
“I should be proud that you got yourself thrown in prison?” You don’t have to look up to know that Wriothesley is sporting an incredulous expression. “Did they knock your head around a bit before bringing you down here?”
“You’re acting like I murdered someone.” You finally meet his gaze, and you resist the urge to sink down into your seat at the clear disapproval in his eyes. “All I did was—”
“Break into the Opera Epiclese and destroy government property.”
“That’s such a trumped-up charge!” You huff and roughly cross your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing as you think back on the charges that had been slapped down onto you by that damned archon. “You trip in the dark and accidentally fall into the oratrice and all of a sudden you’re a criminal. Hmph!”
“Yeah, exactly. It also doesn’t help that you broke in—”
“—I left my bracelet in there after the trial! Was I just supposed to leave it behind and potentially lose it forever? The condition of the lost and found in that place is downright terrible—the guards pocket all the good stuff.”
“You could have bought another one.”
“Not like this one.” You look down to the gray bracelet encircling your wrist, and a warmth spreads in your chest as you gently twist it around, finger rubbing over the messily written engraving on the inside of it. “This was a gift.”
“Hardly.” He sighs, and your eyes flick up to watch as he runs his hands through his already messy hair. “It’s just scrap metal I bent up and welded because I couldn’t buy you proper jewelry back when I was a prisoner.” It’s his turn to look at the bracelet.
“You were so creative back then.” You smile a bit wider. “I remember you used to have something new made every time I came to visit you. What was that one thing you made? The one that we painted together?”
“The ballerina music box.” He groaned, looking a bit embarrassed, and you snapped your fingers.
“The ballerina music box!” The ballerina was a bit oddly shaped, and the box had sharp corners on one side and rounded on the other, and the song the box played was distorted and sounded more creepy than relaxing due to some disfigured cogs, but you loved it nonetheless, and had even sobbed in thanks when he had first presented the gift to you. “I love that little box.”
“It looks like a child made it.”
“A child in the throes of eleazar, yes,” you nod, and his mouth opens a bit in surprise before he huffs out a laugh. “But I still love it… because you made it.” You give him a sweet smile, and you can see him soften up before your very own eyes; broad shoulders losing that rigidness, lids lowering, crease between his dark, thick brows disappearing.
“You’re tryin’ to butter me up.”
“Mhm,” you nod. “Is it working?”
“Not at all, jailbird.” He gives you a smile of his own, and despite the clear sarcasm in it, you can’t help the little flutter your heart does at the sight. “No special treatment for you.” So he says, yet he had placed a cup of tea down for you the moment you were brought to his office, and had even tried to inconspicuously nudge the basket of cookies in your direction, pretending not to notice when you reached for one. “Spouse or not.”
“What a mean man.” You slouch down in your seat. “I treasure the gifts that my lovely, amazing, strong, handsome, and so so so incredibly smart husband gives me and what do I get in return? A criminal record and unfair treatment! I’m suing the entire nation the moment I’m free!”
“Yeah, yeah,” he waves his hand in the air as if fanning away the conversation, and now it’s your turn to huff. “For the few days that you’re here, you’ll be working directly with me in exchange for coupons.” He takes a slow sip of his tea, adams apple bobbing as he swallows, before gently setting the cup back down onto its small plate. “I’ll make your first job real easy to get you in the swing of things.”
“How kind of you.”
He just barely contains an amused smile. “Very. Now…” He shifts in his seat. “Give me a kiss.”
“I’m married, Your Grace.”
“I’m sure your husband won’t mind. Kiss. Now.” He taps a finger against his lips, and after a moment you stand up and round his desk, hands finding his shoulders as you bend at the waist so your noses brush.
“My husband is a very good fighter, by the way. When he finds out you twisted his spouses’s arm like this, he’ll pummel you.”
“I can handle him.” A hand snags you by the waist, forcing you down into his lap, and you only have time to let out a quiet yelp before Wriothesley’s lips are on yours. The kiss is slow, sensual, and it brings a warmth to your cheeks and covers you with a bashful cloak when he pulls back to let his eyes roam over your face. “I’ve gotta say… your husband is a real lucky guy to snatch up someone as cute as you.”
“Hmph. Seems like you’re trying to butter me up now.”
“Is it working?” He presses his face into your neck, his lips pulling into a smile against your skin, and you have to fight back one of your own.
“Not at all, jailbird.”
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berriblossom · 7 months
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X fem reader, btw
Imagine your husband gains baby fever. He sees how you hold children, how you're so gentle and careful with them. How all your friends have children and talk about the joys and happiness they have with their little babies.
Imagine how he sees your disappointed smile about how you two don't have a little one yet.
This leads him to imagine what it would be like to have a little one around, how'd they cling onto you and their cute smile. How'd they look like a perfect mixture of the both of you. His perfect girl and his perfect child.
This leads to everytime he fucks your sweet pussy, he stays a little long before pulling out and spilling his hot cum onto your tummy and chest, whenever his cock is pushing into your womb he pushes his hand onto your tunny for you to feel him fucking your cervix and promising he'll give you that baby.
How many nights he'd have you ass up, face down as he fucks your pussy, pleading to you to let him get you pregnant. How sometimes in the middle of the night he'd eat you out in the middle of the night claming "he needed a taste before he filled you up again". Its so cute when he begs and pleads that he loves the look of your cunt leaking his cum.
How greedy he'd get when you cockwarm him, his thick, long cock throbbing just to fill you with his cum and get you pregnant. How'd he fantasize about your swollen tummy, your milk-filled breast just leaking your sweet milk for him to taste.
Goodness when you finally beg him to fuck a baby into him, hes already planning his next vacation at work for the next few weeks to give you that baby.
:WRIOTHESLEY, Ayato, ZHONGLI, JING YUAN, Blade, DAN HENG, Welt, THOMA, NEUVILLETTE, Childe, Luka, DILUC, ALHAITHAM
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Its not a problem if i don't admit its one
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angelltheninth · 7 months
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The Muzzle Problem
Pairing: Wriothesley x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, muzzle, breeding, possessive sex, creampie, mentioned marking, doggie style, feral!Wriothesley
Word count: 0.7k
A/N: Expanding on that post I made the other day cause got damn I want him in a muzzle so bad!
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He fucked you like he hated you, and maybe in this moment he did. Not because you did something wrong per se, not because he had a reason to hate you, his pretty girlfriend, but all because you wanted to see what would happen when you put a muzzle on him while he fucked you.
"Think you're safe from me when my mouth is caged up?" The cold bars of the muzzle pressed against your face when he attempted to nuzzle in closer to you, his frustration palpable in the loud smacking of his hips into yours. "Think again, there's many way that I can mark you as mine." Your pussy tightened around his cock, legs feeling weak and suddenly you found yourself grateful that you had the bed to fall back onto.
You reached behind you and felt the cold cage of the muzzle, "You know you can't leave marks on me. What if someone saw? They'd know... ah... about us... and..." Wriothesley tightened his hold on your hips and pressed your hips fully against the bed, clit grinding against the pillow under you while he fucked you hard, fast, possessive, almost feral. "Wrio! Careful! Your hands!"
"My hands, my cum, my cock, yes all of them, I can mark you with all of them. I don't really have to though, do I? Because at the end of the day you already know that you're mine." Behind closed doors you were his, but to everyone else you were his right hand woman, to be respected and feared as such too. In both cases though you were his and he was yours, secretly ready whenever you called for him.
Unlike you Wriothesley didn't have any problem teasing you during work hours, which lead to situations like these, getting fucked on his bed right after the shift ended, a puddle between your legs and a pulsing ache that grew every time his cock sunk back into your wet...
"My pussy, it's all mine, and you know what? I think this pussy could use some of my cum in it. It's been so good for me lately, so good for me. You've been amazing, I don't know what I'd..." He groaned as you hooked your fingers on the muzzle and pulled him forward, causing his cock to sink in balls deep into your drooling cunt.
"There, yes, fuck... fuck me there..." Again you tugged on his muzzle and felt the full weight of him on top of you, doing everything you could to keep your ass smacking loudly against his, "Fuck me however you want, just don't leave any marks where people can see." Those were some very dangerous terms you just agreed to.
You could feel yourself dripping with arousal as he began going faster, fucking you like he wanted to see you break on his cock. And maybe he did, as punishment for denying him the pleasure of biting and kissing you. "Breed you, I'm gonna breed you, get my cum in your wet little cunt. Let's see who owns your pussy then huh? When you're dripping, when your womb is flooded with my cum. Say it, say it, say it!" Your hips met his one final time before your mind went blank with pleasure, warmth spreading both inside and out, your orgasm making your stiff against his rock hard body.
Hot cum rushed into your spasming walls, your abused, sensitive pussy taking all of it before he collapsed next to you.
A few minutes passed in silence, the only sounds being each other's breath, slowly getting back to normal. You turned to your side, trying not to squirm as Wriothesley's cum dripped down your thighs. He looked happy, hair very messy and eyes a little hazy still but happy. When you reached behind him and undid the clasp of his muzzle he let out a long sigh before opening his mouth wide, flexing the soreness out of his poor jaw.
"Sorry." You snuggled up to his chest and kissed him on the chin, "But it's not my fault you can't keep your mouth to yourself."
"Yes it is. You're too cute for your own good." Wriothesley pressed a long kiss against your forehead, another content sigh leaving his lips. He was finally able to do what he wanted to do all day, kiss you as much as he wanted.
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vvanisshedd · 27 days
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stop making fanfics about characters raping and sexually assaulting y/n, you are fucking disgusting people who romanticize a serious crime that happens every day to children and women
"but that's just reading dark romance" that's not a dark romance, that's just the stuff of a horrible fetish, IF YOU HAVE A RAPE FETISH, GO SEEK FOR FUCKING PSYCHIATRIST HELP!!!!!!!!!!
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arsonistbf · 14 hours
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╾━╤デ╦︻ TO THE MOON AND BACK
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wriothesley 〥 afab reader ₊ 𓂃 mdni. size kink, service dom wrio, fluff, dacryphilia, praise ⸻ ❪ 393 wc ❫
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size kink with wriothesley goes absolutely fucking insane !!
you don't even need to have a specific body type, that man will just make it his dead set mission to manhandle you and fuck you in every position possible.
he's just so proportionally bigger compared to you that feeling tiny under him when he fucks his cock deep into your cunt, comes naturally without warning. but i only think this in a way where he's talking you through it―very, very obverse to how rough he's playing with your insides, he will never degrade you. even if you asked him to.
it just doesn't turn him on.
he doesn't like seeing you cry either, but when its because of the pleasure he's giving you in bed? oh boy, does it do things to him. he can't quite describe it, but when you get cock drunk and a little bit ditzy, it boosts his ego.
he'll always ask if you're comfortable in the set position, or if anything is hurting, down there. his words are as gentle as a lamb, and when it comes to you, he's extremely sexually reserved. he won't touch you inappropriately out in public, make sex jokes around your friends, or even go ahead without any type of consent.
but when you give him that signal where everything is okay and you are comfortable, be prepared not to walk for, generousslly, for maybe a week.
it can sometimes be a struggle keeping up with him during sex, though. i wouldn't necessarily say that his libido is high, per se, because majority of the time his work keeps him occupied when he's not around you. but when he fucks, he likes to fuck hard.
there are also a sprinkle of moments too where he wants to press his forehead to yours, hands intertwined as you ride him slowly, praising you and telling you how good you look, that you're making him feel amazing―he likes to savor these moments for after dates or when he misses you a bit more than usual.
you can tell he's smitten for you, and he gives you all the right reasons to believe it. you don't question where you stand in your relationship with him, despite if the two of you had been away from each other for weeks.
it would probably just end in him breeding you...
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daze4all · 3 days
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Imagine a Childhood Friend! Reader who grew up with Wriothesly on the streets
Childhood!Friend Reader Visits the prison to play music. Wrio POV is reminiscent childhood past & present conflict with reader/oc though smut later .
Yandere! Wriothesley watched eye growing dark as he reminisced on how they met. Two orphans on the street
-Kid! Wriothesleys Past Memories x Childhood Friend!Kid! Reader-
Huddled under a blanket with several kid snuggled like puppies. Wriothesley hardly older than the kids but tougher and more streetwise. He was the ‘father’ of their rag tag group while she was ‘mother’.
 It warmed Wriothesley’s heart. Her nurturing and sweet temperament. Plus her attempts to entertain the kids with stories and songs on the streets that filled their minds if not their stomachs.
 Innocent days of her singing for pennies while other ragged kids beating on discarded cans as drums. While others danced and filled them with rocks to mimic maracas to her beat.
Dancing singing and playing to forget their worries and entertain for their next meal. A crowd of adults would gather charmed by their performance and drop coins in cans. Sometimes the occasional shopkeeper or guard running them off for disturbing the peace.
 A ragtag group of kids eking a living out on the street. Until their foster parents picked them up, dressed them up, and put them on a stage for profit.
“I’m nervous. What if I mess up, I never performed on stage before.” Wriothesley’s songbird mumbled fiddling with her skirts softly as she stood.  The rustle and swish of the skirt of her baby blue silk dress, finer than anything she had ever worn before.
“You’ll do great, you deserve to shine.” Kid!Wriotheslsy soothed confident she would with reassuring squeeze of her hand. Older now they had hit puberty still thick as thieve but with a strain of something more in their friendship having acted as pseudo parents for so long. Now able to relax and be kids despite being older of the group.
Kid!Wriothesley blushed dazed at how pretty to looked all dressed up for once instead of rags. A twinge of guilt that as a kid he could not do that nor help the kids he swore to protect.
“I will for the kids” she beamed back and then in surge of courage quickled hopped up and pecked cheek “wish me luck” she shot out blushing madly as she scampered off to the stage to be announced.
Dazed Kid!Wriothesley touched his check a slow grin spreading before shaking his head to watch from the wings of stage. On stage she did glow singing brightly vibrantly even more on the streets now the stage was set for her. She did so well that she was request eto do show after show.
Until she caught the eye of wreathy patron and was whisked away to what he thought was a good home.
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-Teens: I Promise-
They had hit puberty. Almost out of the system “I when I leave do you want to come” nervous but hopeful a shy nod. But that was not to be.
She had come to him solemn and despondent one day at the orphanage. Teen! Wriothesley thought at first it was bad news like one of the kid s were sick or there was another fight to break up. She and him acting as parents even at the orphanage with their foster parents around.
They were the oldest and would soon age out as they approached their teens. A strong bond friendship hinting to more as gangly limbs grew and close contact soon became arkward.
The younger cuter more malleable kids were adopted first. Teen!Wriothesley  was too old, too brutish and tough looking for anyone to want and to take in .
She licked her lips as he watched. His eye dilating for a second before hearing her words“ “I…I could make a lot…. they want to adopt me …. but the kids…”
“What?” Teen! Wriothesley’s Blood froze stiff in his surprise.
Teen!Wriothesley thought she would have stayed. Maybe until they aged out and then…He mused lost in his thoughts.
Teen! Wriothesley hand clasped the metal ring he melted down from can. Burning in his pocket a a cute but crude cheap promise of the life he could give.
A paltry offering compared to the dazzling jewelry, opulent galas, grand theatre stage that the adults with so many connections could offer her.
“I see. Go you …. deserve …a good home“
The ring in his pocket burned as he forced out the reassuring words. As she startled worry and relief in her eyes at the decision made without an outburst that Wriothesley prone to do when angers or upset.
Wriothesley assumed this is what every kid wants.
A home. Parents . Family. He couldn’t deny her that.
 Yandere! Wriothesley just hoped it might be with him…despite being so young maybe one day. But he dashed those thoughts.
“This will be good for you. You always wanted a family”
His heart caught in his throat, but he let her go.
A mistake.
“Okay then” She pursed her lips then nodded her had determinedly her mind resolved with his words.
She then surged forward sweeping him up in a hug that made him stumble slightly as with tears in her eyes.
“Thank you Wriothesley for everything “ she fervently whispered.
Happy tears Wriothesley thought.
“Hey this isn’t  forever. I’ll see you again.” He patted her back archwayed reassuring. As he choked back his own emotion.
Her face flickered with a shadow of emotion to soon for him to catch that she covered up with one fo star winning smiles as she promised
“Don’t worry…. I’ll be happy. I’ll try to do my best for all of you.”
What fools they were. Did she know then?
Wriothesley should’ve asked did she want to go?
If she was happy with adoption
Wriothesley should have listened more to what she was saying instead blinded by his pain frustration.
It was too late. It was a mistake.
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-We Shall Meet Again Act 2: Teen Years In the Orphanage-
The money flowed into the orphanage with the shows she performed.
But she didn’t visit. She was busy his foster parents said. She didn’t have time.  She was a star now they said.
The next he saw her was one of her charity performances.
Dressed up under a spotlight. However, something was off about how she sang.
The trembling as they placed steadying hand behind her back as they introduced her  Her voice was a little higher, desperate, and soft like a bird fluttering against the windows.
Wriothesley eye caught her eyes in recognition and fear.
Her voice warbled and broke.
A break was called and he snuck backstage to talk to her.
He slipped into the locked room with the ease of street kid who could pick locks and hid behind thinking to surprise her in the dressing room.
“You must hide.” Her eyes wide in shock recognition and fear as she hurriedly she pushed him behind a curtain.
 Pausing to hear voices shouting. Her sponsors and parents shouted at her “That chord was wrong how dare you disgrace me! I thought you could sing!” The slap that rang out. The welt on her cheek setting his world ablaze in frost as he surged forward to protect her.
“No Don’t” she cried out in vain the effort trying to hold him back tearing of her sleeve as he grabbed her arm to pull her back to safety and as she pulled away too quickly. Afriad he would see but ti was too late.
RTeh ripped material revealed the blue black and purple bruises from adult handprints she tried to hide under long sleeves.
“What is this?” Yandere! Wriothesley said voice cold and deeper. Yandere! Wriothesley had grown into a teen and so had she. The crack of puberty presents in his voice along with the pain of seeing her like this. “Tell me you trash!”
Yandere! Wriothesley gritted hi teeth rumbling with anger ready to lash out at them. As he readied another punch like the street brawls he got into as a kid.
“What are you doing here?! Guards!” her foster parents, those monsters cried dodging his fists sloppily as the guards poured in. He was restrained and was escorted out roughly yelling in vain as the door shut off her downcast face.
 The seed of suspicion was planted. He noticed kids disappeared and those adopted never seen again in the orphanage.
 Those adults were rotten to the core. And she bore the brunt smiling for the funds the orphanage needed.
Yandere! Wriothesley found the records of them being sold including her. He had to stop this. No matter the cost.
 Even as it lead to blood dripped down and two corpses fell at his feet. His foster parent who ahd not care and laughed revealing he truth…that those preciuso were sold and useless disposed…for profit.
For Power
For Greed . For fame. For money.
At the children’s expense.  
No Longer.
Yandere! Wriothesley hunted down the parents she was assigned too.
However, the knave had found her first.
And the guards found him first to throw him into prison aftr long trail.  the guards.
Yandere! Wriothesley was imprisoned and she was taken into the house of hearth….
Yandere! Wriothesley  wasn’t altogether happy with the deal she made. Though he was hardly better with his. It would be safer with him….
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-Act 3: Grow Up to be my Enemy but No Enmity
-Adults: Return to Present day-
The applause, whistles and cheers from the prison stage from her performance brought Yandere! Wriothesley back to present day. Back to present day in prison where he rose ranks to becoming the head warden.
A wayward boy no longer but the man who was now the prison warden.
;
Like a songbird in its cage,
he wondered if he could have her playing here
permanently in the depths of the fortress?
Present Day Archon Arc Fontaine II- Preventing the Prophecy
Yandere! Wriothesley flashed a toothy smile to her nod as she finished her performance and serenade to the enthralled crowd of criminals.
Safe with him in another cage.
Would the bird drown and no longer sing?
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Yandere! Wriothesley mused as he stirred his tea hesitating as he sprinkled Sigewinne sleep powder into the tea as he set the table for their ritual teatime  in his private office to chat and catch up after every performance.
Yandere! Wriothesley crossed his legs behind the desk as he watched her sip her tea.
“I always wondered. Hestia, why did you join the fatui?” he began testing the water watching her placid face as if expecting this question.
“You could join a musical troupe or I could even get you a job working for the courts of prison.” Wriothesley offered amiably probing for answer he wanted to know.
Why them? Why her? Why not him?
She pauses her face a mask. As she spoke slowly but purposefully 
“The fatui may also be corrupt but I can control my fate and I trust the knave. She saved me….”
Wriothesley hummed as his hand fisted annoyed as it was him who should have saved her that day. Then she would be safe with him and not mixed up with the fatui. Though Wriothesley knew rationally he was in prison then and he couldn’t have helped her….
“Justice has system a path right and wrong. I may be dog of system but I chose that.” Wriothesley countered “It doesn’t change the fact I went about fixing the situation the wrong way”
“But how long would it go on if you didn’t? “ She argued her grip tight on the teacup.
“I wasn’t there for you, but I am now.” Wriothesley promised catching her eye in reassuring gaze as he did as kids huddling in the rain not knowing where their next meal was. Saving part of his portion for more bread for the kids to keep their strength up and so she could sing for more coin the next day.
“I don’t need your justice” soft but firm as she averted his eyes and stared at the wavering reflection in her teacup.
 “Justice did not save me, but love kept me going“she professed softly eyes meeting his as his pace raced did she mean him?
She coughed awkwardly to dissuade the silence as she quickly looked away.
“The oratrice is a machine that ignored our feelings and reasons for your actions. What you did helped free all the children and bring light the truth for justice” she asserted.
“The hydro archon of justice didn’t even deign to oversee the trial and overrule the situation and I cannot forgive that.” She said radiating a cool anger his behalf in her hard words which warmed his heart but reminded him she was still fatui.
Wriothesley’s hands tight on the teacup
“So back to business what did you come here for?” Wriothesley casually put out trying to deescalate the situation.
“I actually came on official business…” she trailed off voice switching to bland business as she placed her instrument down and sat herself down in his office for a private meeting after the musical performance.
“I guessed as much” Wriothesley hummed as he brought out cookies from Sigewinne and offered to which she politely refused with a nod of her head.
“The matron of the house of the hearth Hestia, requests you to release my wards Lyney and Lynette” she said her voice distant and formal. Her fatui mask slipping in place as she fiddles with her finger anxiously and the nervous tic of nibbling her lips was still there.
Ah, looks like the little fatui bird walked into her own trap. Wriothesley thought sipping his tea with sharp teal eyes.
“Sit have some tea” Wriothesley welcomed her with gesture to the couch. As he set out the necessary cutlery for teatime.
“Then we’ll talk about the price” Wriothesley smiled observing how her position stiffened. Elegant , composed,  cool unlike the warmth she had while playing her music.  
There was deeper reason hand just to see him that she was here. Who knows, maybe only to get back the children not to see him?
She was no longer shy stuttering sweet child replaced with a lady of cold resolve and determination. The cold anger of unfulfilled justice simmering beneath a cool surface. She had always been good at putting on mask whether happy or cold to suit her needs.
Wriothesley made peace with his choices and repentance, but she had never truly healed from. Perhaps he did not either but hid it better.
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“I accepted the archon of love for help rather then, the archon of justice who failed to see underneath the waters what was happening to us.” She reasoned pausing for moment to catch her breath as the room blurred for a moment.
“Back to the topic at hand.” She calmed down cold again and detached. Sipping the sweet tea and slowly clinking the teacup to it coaster in her hand,
“We are part of different factions now but have the same goals. The knave as a native to Fontaine seeks to solve the prophecy. So please show those children some leniency” She relayed voice soft as she pleaded rubbing her eyes.
“True we but doesn’t change the fact you all trepassed on my territory and breached several laws to do so. “ solemnly sipped his tea cyan eyes piercing.
She opened her mouth to protest but went slack voiceless as her hand fell. She paused blinking rapidly as the room blurred the teacup falling with her hand as the drug took effect.
“I’d hate to waste tea but would do it to keep you safe” Wriothesley joked but tone complex soft a d sad that this was the only way.  His face as furrowed his brow heavy with complex emotions as he clasped his hands on his knees before moving slowly to right herself before she fell on the couch.
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Why Wrio? Her voice faint,Hurt and breathless as drowsiness swept over her. A vulnerable plead using an old nickname as children do when she asked something of him sweetly that he didn’t want to do.
 The realization in her eyes darting frantically. Realization dawning too late that something in the tea she drank was making her sleepy. The worry foremost being the cjildren as always.
“Don’t worry, I’ll go easy and keep an eye on them for our old friendship.”
Wriothesley softened and said smoothly and catching her hand in his and laying her down on the couch.
“I’ll protect you now too…” Wriothesley  promised as he brushed back a lock of her hair and arranged he to sit comfortably “
A feeble lift of the head pleading sad eyes as she fought in vain the drugs effects.  Her eyes blinking drowsily until she slumped over the couch and her eyelids closed in sleep.
“Just slip into sleep until this conflict passes. Ill take care of it like I always did.”
This was no children’s fight though although kids were caught up in it.
Bigger forces such as Fontaine, the hydro archon, the fatui and the prophecy were at play.  
As if straight from a storybook.
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But he was no prince though he wanted to be for her and kissing sleeping girl was a violation not fairytale kiss of true love he amusedly mused.
Wriothesley stroked her hair. Eyes soft and sad. How funny their roads would cross again like this. He couldn’t have her involved with conflict to come with the fatui. She was still his soft spot.
Watching her slip into sleep from the tea till the chaos was over.
The songbird would be much safer with clipped wings in his care.
“This time I’ll begin show and makes sure it ends the right way” he promised as rifled through papers preparing to meet with the next visitor. Waiting for Lynette and Lynney to arrive to discuss negotiations for their mother figure the matron for the house hearth. All to get an audience with the knave about what the fatui were up to in the prison.
For surely, the knave saved her once, she would surely save her again? Right?
Hestia who played her flute while Fontaine burned.
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Papers for Prison Warden
Classified: Investigation of the House of Hearth as a Fatui Organization
Alreccchino. Director of the House of Hearth Orphanages.
The Knave, The second Fatui Harbinger,
Previous orphan of the House of Hearth,
Native of Fontaine
Cursed.
Goal is to steal the hydro gnosis from the hydron archon, claims to want to stop the prophecy, and investigate the oratrice.
*The second harbinger and presumably second strongest. High risk. Invetsigate with Cuation*
Stage & Fatui Name: Hestia
Suspected as Arlechinno’s, second in command.
True name:  Y/N
Occupation: Maestro of the Opera Epiclipse &
Matron of House of Hearth and Acting Orphanage Co-Director in Fontaine.
- Suspected second in command Fatui member of fatui and unofficial fatui diplomat representative in Fontaine.
- Musical talents were sponsored by an adopted parent who died in a housefire and suspect is the knave .
Is guardian to the following also suspect of Fatui Spy activities:
The magician Lynney , Fatui Spy , Orphan of the House of Hearth, Suspected next head of the house of hearth. Ward of Hestia
The magician’s assistant, Lynette. Fatui Spy, Orphan of the House of Hearth. Ward of Hestia
The diver, Frémont, Fatui Spy. Mother dead. Orphan of the House of Hearth. Ward of Hestia.
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So, before I write smut, I had to create a character that reader may or may not be lol. It just easier to write giving an oc the role in my mind and replacing it with reader lol.
- Wrio turned out soft yandere? So technically the ‘enemy’ fatui like lynney sent undercover and reader a fatui representative Hestia a matron of hearth while archilinno away and acts as representative to fatui kind of secretary and publicly orphanage director and caretaker to the kids including lyney.
-her fatui connection and name Hestia is not well known except by authorities like harbingers, and wrio, neuvilette. Most think it a stage performance name…
OC Hestia has separate post here.
OC Background Context
Hestia is the public face of the house of hearths orphanage and performs for donations and acts as a fatui representative at times in political mattes   in Arlechinnos absence but is not a fighter.
 She runs the daily duties of maintaining and funding the orphanage for the house of hearth but rarely involved in their schemes. Having been added to old to be an agent unlike Lynsey and lynett.
Hestia Is a public figure who put on charity performances to fund the orphanage and mediates fatui relations with Fontaine like an ambassador or diplomat.
Hestia uses her reputation as well like musician and guardian of the kids to enter the to prison to pull Lyney and Lynette & Fremient out of a risky mission situation (investigating the oratirice quest)
However, fails as wrio drugs her to fall asleep as he doesn’t have fight her given her loyality is with the enemy fatui and because of their past history as fellow orphans that grew up as childhood friends.
Enemies to Lovers Star crossed lovers, Past childhood friends vibe
Smut separate one-shot on Oc based on her as Wriothesly’s childhood friend.
On furina
Personally, I believe Furina didn’t join Wrio’s trial as too upset by proceedings being so dark and unable to do much. She was also was more human than god and so failed to know about the corruption with the orphanage which is big thing  and was surprise they didn’t catch it sooner in Fontaine the nation of justice of all places….
Hestia POV doesn’t know this and to her the the Sentence against Wriothesly was  not carried out well and from victims perspective she saw it as wrio being punished for saving them…
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maopll · 1 month
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"Dearest...I think that's enough"
"No its not"
And there goes another few rounds where you smother your boyfriends face with tons of kisses. He brought you many lipsticks and lip gloss, so it is only right you try to see the shade that matches, right? the shade, which makes his face feel even more ethereal. The only correct way to let people know that you're his and he's yours.
"Hmm... I think this shade suits your face better!" You moved the ones which made his face look more delightful. Shades of pink, red, coral, and all.
He did say that the number of kisses you gave him till then were enough, but deep down, he craved more. The way your soft lips felt against his skin left him breathless. The way areas where your lips left left a tingling and burning sensation, which, rather than being unpleasant, was more exciting
What was even more addicting was the way you would gently cup his face with your hands and attack his face ferverently. This was best for both of you. You get to have the ego boost after smothering or rather painting his face with your kisses, and he gets access to your unlimited display of affection.
"There! Now that's more like it you look like my lover now" putting emphasis on the word, you were grinning from ear to ear while admiring your masterpiece. When you tried to get up from his lap though...
"Now now dearest I think it is my turn to get what I have been seeking"
— WRIOTHESLEY, lyney, NEUVILLETTE, ZHONGLI, diluc, CHILDE, AYATO, kaeya, alhaitham, VIL, MALLEUS, azul, leona, DAN HENG, blade, JING YUAN, luocha, dr ratio, GEPARD, DIAVOLO, MAMMON, lucifer, satan, BEELZEBUB
wanna join the taglist ? feel free !
© 2024 maopll. do not copy, repost or modify my work in any form
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