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the-writer-arrived · 16 days
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EX HUSBAND WRIOTHESLEY
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— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — ex! husband wriothesley headcanons
— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, reader is referred to as "wife", a little sad, unprotected syx, hitting it raw, very rough fucking lmao, love sick & feral wriothesley, very messy too
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ex! husband wriothesley who will hesitantly accept your upsetting decision to file for divorce, and to nullify your earnest promise— nonetheless, it's evident that it was crushing him through the very inside, the pain your words caused had invited him to explore the enormity of sorrow. however, do not be fooled because he won't show it to you, meaning his pure and real emotions, instead wriothesley will decide to verbally jester around about the current happening to brighten up an otherwise daunting interaction between two past lovers.
it was to no avail, the agony festering on his facial expressions and there was nothing in his life worth remembering other than you and a concealed shade of his past— yet, the last thing he'd want to happen was to lose you entirely, signifying that if he was to put his foot down and tell you that he doesn't want the divorce to happen, it probably doesn’t mean much after all.
ex! husband wriothesley who will reminisce about past events in front of you, your first kiss or that one particular date where he asked you to marry him, just small, little details about you that only your ex husband knew of— but, he'll do it in a subtle way, sneakily sprinkling it into a conversation in hopes you'd get a dash of sudden yearning as well— the same he did whenever he casted his mind back towards the good, old days.
ex! husband wriothesley who will speak in riddles to you, keep his quick-witted demeanor in order to fool you into thinking that he was doing quite well after the divorce was fulfilled— and his intentions weren't in wanting to make you feel bad, sorrowful or even jealous. no, not at all. in fact, he thought that if he was to hide his raw emotions and genuine feelings in front of you, you wouldn't feel awful about your decision and were able to continue living a normal life, yet without him.
ex! husband wriothesley who promised you that he will take off the ring that symbolized your once passionate marriage— but will behind your back grab a necklace to loop it inside the precious metal, so he could always wear the ring around his neck, secretly hiding it from your eyes to see while holding on to it whenever he found himself in trouble, or saddened.
ex! husband wriothesley who feels helplessly confused still, harshly drawing back for air as he let a brittle thread of a nervous laughter go when you suddenly ask him if he wanted to remain friends with you, which— in truth, he didn't, and the second after you proposed that insane idea to him he thought you must be joking, or that you surely must've lost your mind (which would make the divorce explainable).
it goes without saying that the real reason as to why the duke didn't seek out to befriend you, had nothing to do with the feelings he harbors towards you suddenly dissolving, it's quite the opposite because he was so helplessly in love with you, archons, he was bloody obsessed with you.
certainly, he thought that such friendship between two past lovers would only cause injury to you both in the end, for the main part to you who he cared the utmost about.
aside from the fact that even now, when he notices how you steadily keep your distance from him, at all times, it breaks him from within.
how cold it was when all ex! husband wriothesley sought after was your gentle caress and delicate kisses, he longed for an opportunity to just swiftly hush you with one step, raw and earnest trapping you against his strong arms while pressing his lips on top of yours when— oh, he does it again, he was indulging in fantasy, gradually yielding to an alternative version of you two ending up together.
in the duke's own words, he believed that love should be warm, a sweet addiction, a magic gifted by the universe, so why— just what had went so terribly wrong that he was struggling to understand it? you should just say you do not care for him, tell him you feel nothing so he can walk away, or maybe, regardless he will stay.
ex! husband wriothesley who despite you both being apart now, remains faithful to you, protective and nurturing to your every needs— because it was simple as that— for the duke, you are his shining sun, and will still remain it to his dying day.
to his crushed and painful body, your caressing trace was his only medication, and your smile? it was the light to his broken heart, for that is what he had called a warm love.
ex! husband wriothesley who noticed how the natural warmth surrounding his body had but faded completely as his mind began to gather around great negativities— perhaps he was flawed and that's the reason you left him all along, cursed to feel the deep sadness slither through his veins like a freezing liquid conquering his body as he shuts himself off for a while, until he can recollect himself again that is.
ex! husband wriothesley who had inappropriate thoughts enter his mind whenever he thought about you— here is to note that he utterly disliked the way his brain just so happened to work and how he wasn't able to shake off those strong and vivid fantasies playing in his mind on repeat.
but how can he not dream about his wife? well, ex-wife, which in his memories was pressed under his large figure exposed with your breasts on full display, his hips working constantly to please you just the way he knew you liked it.
because you see, the duke knew your body, in and out, one might even assume he knows it better than you do. and he still has a couple of your panties left in his drawer— in fact, he wanted to return them, please believe him, but he found himself to be quite busy these past weeks that he must've simple forgotten to do so.
ex! husband wriothesley who at some point, cannot live like this anymore and was desperate to see you again. after your marriage had crushed, you weren't visiting the fortress of meropide anymore and as the duke was rarely leaving it himself, it could've been the perfect situation to move on from each other, yet he simply could not do that, not when you were constantly on his mind.
ex! husband wriothesley who will find courage and leave the fortress to visit you at your new place, in fact, the mere sight of the duke exiting the underworld was rarely seen, so the guards figured that it must be of graven importance— as invisible and weightless as your love for him might be for now, in the middle of the night he walks out to find you, taking in a last view at the fortress  before an itching impatience got the better of him. 
he just had to see you, now.
ex! husband wriothesley who will show up at your doorstep and suddenly admit that he cannot do this anymore, that he felt incredibly miserable and heartbroken, confessing his undying love and affection towards you, using words he had once spelled out to you the night you had gotten married.
"night and day, i dream of you," wriothesley yells, as if there had been nothing left to his choice, the sight of your glowering eyes and those soft, frowning lips he just misses to kiss.
"and there is not one corner on this world that you could possibly travel to in order to free me from this torture," he adds forbiddingly.
through dark eyelashes, wriothesley stares at sudden tears welling up in your glassy eyes, a sharp amenity invading your cheeks as he places his palms on top of them in order to brush your warm tears away. "you're mine," he said, the corners of his mouth slightly quirking upwards, his hot breathing lingering around your gasping lips, "and not even a divorce can change that."
ex! husband wriothesley who places a delicate splatter of warm and passionate kisses on top of your lips the moment you pull him by the collar of his shirt, his surprised growl turning into a stifled cry when you wrap your arms around his neck in order to keep him close to you, together stumbling into the coziness of your home as one hand was firmly placed against your back, his mouth eagerly parting as your lips welcome the teasing slide of his tongue lapping across your own.
ex! husband wriothesley who will hiss upon revelling in your soft fingers tracing over his twitching muscles when you undress each other, his disheveled hair accentuated with a fond smile as his hands trail down the sides of your face, leaning his hungry lips against yours again, the lingering, familiar scent of your fragrance penetrating his nostrils turning him needier, on the brink of passing out.
ex! husband wriothesley who loves hearing you only reply in soft and crumbled whimpers of his name slipping past the edges of your tongue as he cannot wait to feel you— fuck, and neither can you wait to feel him again, a clashing pressure on your hot core narrowing the space between your bodies as he lines himself up with you, your nails slithering down his chiseled back as he slides into you abruptly, your neglected cunt instantly welcoming him.
and you squeal out in pleasure as he thrusts into you, the maddening scent of his musky perfume persisting around your shivering frame as wriothesley hooks one leg over his shoulder, the squelching sounds of your wet sex echoing throughout the entire bedroom just signalizing how much you must've missed him as well, his addicting gaze always flickering across the way your body reacted to him.
ex! husband wriothesley who shoves himself further into your soft cunt— and you're just so unbelievably cute and adorable at your desperate attempts to silence those candid whines and mewls of his name. one of his hands was now placed on the headboard for additional support as to not suddenly suffocate you with his large body towering above before he increases the pace on your cunt, setting for a deep and fast rhythm that would surely stay engraved in your walls even after he's done.
ex! husband wriothesley who kisses you like a starved animal as your tears tickle the soft features on his face, your hidden emotions running wild at the sheer passion he unlocked in you, his erection throbbing harder as he groans into your lips, triggering every last one of your nerves in your body and infusing them with persisting vibrations— now, you're gasping at the lack of oxygen in your lungs as his constant thrusts into you drove you deeper into the mattress, if that was even possible, considering the fact that your whole body had been caged in between your bed and wriothesley's frame towering on top.
ex! husband wriothesley who chokes back a desperate growl as he sought out further friction, growing feral, then hissing sharply as his sensitive cockhead reaches into your deepest parts, his shaft all the way sucked in by your used pussy lubricating him so he can ram himself in and out of you harder, slick pooling out of your hole whenever he pulls out only to press back inside with one quick snap.
ex! husband wriothesley who worships your body, making you feel every thick vein as it throbs violently against your walls, your thudding hole making him lose his mind on how you're convulsing while he curls into you— your swollen cunt tensing and releasing, grinding up a little as thick, white cum gathers at the base of his cock, his mesmerizing eyes glued on the creamy spot that was showing him just how much you enjoyed this too.
ex! husband wriothesley who resumes his fast tempo, your teeth rattling with every new impact of his hips bouncing against your flesh blanking your mind into pure paradise— your moving bodies couldn't stop anymore as you're fucking each other well over the limits of your endurance, drool dribbling down the corners of your mouth as wriothesley was fucking your cunt desperately, unhinged and making it a point to rock your hips in and out along a particular angle that you'd always squeeze over the rigid veins prancing on the underside of his shaft.
ex! husband wriothesley who exhales heavily when you tell him that you're close, his hips pressing and digging into your sensitivity once more before lifting you off the mattress, chasing your relief like a wild beast that he so graciously wanted to see unfold— low profanities and fast tumbles of his name falling from your lips as your thighs begin to shake and ache, your throat turning dry— you're done for, and wriothesley just fits so perfectly in you, into every curve, every spongy spot and every bump inside that you're so painfully full, crowded and overflowing of his thick shaft.
you're hiccuping due to the pressure he presses into your sensitivity as you're way beyond your own limits now, at last feeling a twitch and quake as your body pleads to cum, his grueling thrusts aiding you when you violently convulse around his length, a sharp intake of breath breaking every other noise in the room when you cum all over his cock, your orgasm hitting you hard, wriothesley continuing with slow, language thrusts until you've rode out your high.
the duke was being eager to watch it all happen, something primal at the back of his mind manifestikg when the sudden constriction of your fluttering hole made him grunt lowly against your ear, rolling his hips nearly painfully hard between your legs before dragging himself away, cumming inside of your walls and marking you up for good with his warm, sticky cum.
ex! husband wriothesley who watched you being short of breath, and couldn’t resist looking at the mess between your legs, your abused cunt twitching around his girth as your pussy flutters around nothing, your legs were quivering with a combination of your essence and his seed oozing out of your hole, staining the silky bedsheets.
ex! husband wriothesley who'll press himself back into you with one sharp snap, leaving his cock in so you could clench and throb, small thrusts turning sloppy and sticky with his dampened bangs glued on his forehead as he kisses the tip of your nose before embracing your pouty lips again, your mouth partly open as you whine out, your sensitivity spiraling of his cock still being nestled in you, his shaft already hard and thick again, your battered cunt jolting underneath him.
wriothesley smiles, "it is maddening, how much you consume my very being, my love." and speaks through his heart.
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the-writer-arrived · 2 months
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Inappropriate Behavior in the Workplace
Synopsis: you decide to give your lover a hand in his work as a bartender, helping out as a waitress for the busy friday night. little did he know that your intentions were far from pure...
Characters: diluc ragnvindr; gallagher.
Warnings: afab!fem!reader; explicit smut; established relationship; unprotected sex (please use protection in real life!); semi-public sex (you fuck in the empty tavern); soft men becoming rough men; spanking; reader is a brat; reader wears a skirt; your man becomes a horny mess for you good luck dealing with him; headcanons + a drabble.
A/N: diluc 🤝 gallagher -> hot guys that work at a bar (and fuck their lover there post-work hours) that make my brain go brrrrrr.
<<This work has sexual themes and is not suitable for minors. If you click on read more, I am not responsable for any discomfort you may feel reading this. You have been warned.>>
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He should have known. He should have listened to his gut feeling that you were up to no good, when you were suddenly very insistent about helping him out at the bar that friday.
But nooooo, you had to bat those little doe eyes of yours at him, like the purest, sweetest angel that you are for him to give in to your whims.
After all, that would mean spending more time with his beloved woman, instead of having her wait for him all alone back home.
Oh, if only he could look past the rose-tinted lens of love and adoration to realize the perfect trap you had prepared for him...
There were essentially three main situations that should have given you away, but that fool (/affectionate) is too much in love with you to have realized in time:
The first being your insistance of wanting to work with him in one of the busiest nights of the week. Your reason? He's been too busy lately with his other duties, so you wanted to at least be beside him... (Critical hit in his heart).
The second, your unusual choice of clothing - a skirt. Now, he isn't one to tell you what you should or shouldn't wear, he's simply surprised by it, considering it's a rare sight for you to use it. And hey, you looked absolutely beautiful with it.
The third and most obvious one - your smile. But not any smile. The one you specifically have on your lips when you have some mischief up your sleeve. Like a cat ready to pounce on an unsuspected bird.
When everything clicked inside his head, it was already too late...
You had gone behind the bar to help him clean the counter, the rush of customers dying down for the moment. While distracted wiping a glass, he accidentaly bumped into you, causing you to drop the empty cans left by some customers.
He quickly apologized, but you reassured it was fine, which really was! (He unbeknownst set the scene for the grand finale of your nefarious plan).
You, helpful as always, bent down to pick up the cans without thinking twice, causing the hem of your skirt to raise up a bit too much. Your man, gentleman as he is, was about to warn you to be careful, but any coherent thought was thrown out of the window.
It was a just glimpse. He could argue that it was just the work of his dirty imagination. A trick of the light. Anything.
But no. He knew exactly what he saw. And the wink that you gave him as you sauntered away was all the confirmation he needed to know he wasn't mistaken.
You're not using any panties.
You're working in his establishment, looking stunning as usual, with your pussy hidden only by your skirt.
Oh he feels light headed... due to all the blood going straight to his crotch.
It all makes sense now, your behavior, your choice of clothing... And now you're suddenly taking care of the tables, knowing that he can't leave the bar anymore with the big tent in his pants.
...Is this punishment for not paying attention to you the past few days? If so, he never knew you could go to such lengths to teach him a lesson...
Still, you should know that your lover isn't one to take things laying down. So, you better enjoy yourself making him squirm while you still have the advantage...
And enjoy yourself you do, much to his dismay.
He follows you with his eyes like a hawk, mind swirling with a myriad of feelings: annoyance, for being teased so cruely like this; worry, that someone might accidentaly see what they shouldn't; impatience, for the damn clock to stop dragging its hands and reach closing time already; and arousal, for having being tricked into a situation which you are the one in control.
As the night goes slowly by and the number of customers begins to decrease, the tension between the two of you grows more and more, like a volcano about to erupt.
Until finally, at long last, it's time to close the tavern.
It's time to show you the consequences of your actions.
----------
After bidding his employees a good night, he wastes not a single second more, locking the door behind him as the last inch of his patience snaps.
You're wiping one of the tables, pretending not to hear his steps coming closer to you from behind, a shiver of anticipation running down your spine. Before you can utter a word, you see his shadow falling on you, like a predator ready to pounce on his cornered prey.
He takes the dirty rag from your hand and throws it away, wrapping a strong arm around your waist to pull you flush against his chest. His other hand goes to grab your chin, turning your head to the side before stealing your breath with a kiss.
Actually, it can't even be called a kiss, but more like a two pairs of lips mashed together. It's messy, desperate and intense, his tongue invading your mouth with the objective of claiming every single part of you. Your lover's touch is rough, but not without care. Even when he's lost amidst the fiery passion that has consumed his usual composure, he never fails to make you feel loved.
As intoxicating as this moment feels, the need of oxygen is still a necessary thing for the both of you, prompting him to finally release your lips with a gasp for air. But not a second later he latches his mouth on your neck, nibbling, kissing and licking the tender flesh that soon becomes warm by his attention.
"Do you have any idea of what you did to me today?" His question is a rhetoric one, aware that your ability to think straight isn't working anymore to string an answer. "What am I saying, of course you do. In fact, you've came up with your little plan wanting things to turn out this way, right?"
Your only response is a moan when he grinds his clothed erection on your behind. Honestly, you didn't expect your plan to work so well like this, witnessing a side of him you're not used to, but still very turned on.
"Walking around all pretty like this, serving customers and helping the other employees out, with no panties on..." You let out a gasp of surprise when you're suddenly pushed down on the table, your skirt flipped out to expose your bare private parts, your cheeks flaring up as he caresses your buttock. "...Who knew I had such a lewd girl for a lover."
The harsh slap on your ass forces a loud yelp out of you, the pain of the sting mixing with pleasure that makes you shuddering. The sight of the plush skin jiggling at his action leaves him hypnotized and with his pants even tighter.
"I was tense the whole night, you know. Worried that some scumbag would try something funny and end up seeing what is for my eyes only." Another slap, now on the other asscheek, and he notices your pussy glistening with arousal at each hit. "You're getting even wetter... You're enjoying this, huh?"
A pitful whine of his name paired with the teary look you throw at him is enough to convince him to give up on his previous idea of dragging out this teasing and go straight to what you both have been desiring all evening.
Your lover grumbles in frustration at his vexing belt and pants, pushing the garment down enough to free his throbbing cock from its confines, the tip angry red and with precum.
You're so pent up with need that he doesn't even need to prep you further, seeing that you spread your folds yourself for him, impatient to have your wish fulfilled at long last. So, doing both of you a favor, he doesn't waste any more time and slides himself in, eyes rolling back at the warmth enveloping him.
"Fuck, so tight darling..." He massages your waist, trying to get you to ease up a little. You feel so fucking good, he fears he won't last at all.
His hips pick up the pace as your moans and pleas grow to a crescendo, your voice like a siren that beckons him to dive head first into this addicting chase for carnal pleasure, enhanced by the love shared between you two.
Sooner than he would have preferred, your lover reaches his peak, head thrown back and hips grinding hard against your behind, his cum filling you to the brim. You can feel your climax coming as well, his orgarsm bringing your own...! Until his cock suddenly slides out of you.
"W-Wha- Why did you-- ah!" Your words are interrupted by two fingers of his intruding your fluttering hole, him putting his weight on your back as he shushes you.
"You didn't think you get what you want so easily, did you love?" His voice is husky in your ear, fingers pushing his release back inside your pussy. "No, no, you've been a bad girl tonight. And bad girls don't get to cum now."
You whine in protest, attempting to wiggle your hips to get any sort of friction as you feel the waves of your impending climax waning.
"Please, love, please let me cum, please! It's been so long since I've felt your touch, I need you!"
His breath hitches when he listens to your begging, not expecting the neediness in your tone. It seems like his busy schedule the past few days took a heavier toll on you than he thought. He sighs, his heart is too soft for you to continue his original pay back.
"Alright, you win... But know this is the only time I'll let you off the hook for your little stunt, you hear me?"
You nod your head quickly, thank you's and promises to be a good girl falling easily from your tongue. However, you knew none of what either of you said will remain, you will continue being your teasing little self and he will continue letting your brat behavior slide, because that's the kind of couple you are.
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But that's the least of your concerns right now, your mind returning to the foggy state of pleasure as you continue your inappropriate actions in many different surfaces of his bar, adding yet another secret item to your list of things one shouldn't do in the workplace.
thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3
heart divider made by @/cafekitsune
red diluc and gallagher banners (smut) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly ;)
369 notes · View notes
the-writer-arrived · 2 months
Text
Inappropriate Behavior in the Workplace
Synopsis: you decide to give your lover a hand in his work as a bartender, helping out as a waitress for the busy friday night. little did he know that your intentions were far from pure...
Characters: diluc ragnvindr; gallagher.
Warnings: afab!fem!reader; explicit smut; established relationship; unprotected sex (please use protection in real life!); semi-public sex (you fuck in the empty tavern); soft men becoming rough men; spanking; reader is a brat; reader wears a skirt; your man becomes a horny mess for you good luck dealing with him; headcanons + a drabble.
A/N: diluc 🤝 gallagher -> hot guys that work at a bar (and fuck their lover there post-work hours) that make my brain go brrrrrr.
<<This work has sexual themes and is not suitable for minors. If you click on read more, I am not responsable for any discomfort you may feel reading this. You have been warned.>>
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He should have known. He should have listened to his gut feeling that you were up to no good, when you were suddenly very insistent about helping him out at the bar that friday.
But nooooo, you had to bat those little doe eyes of yours at him, like the purest, sweetest angel that you are for him to give in to your whims.
After all, that would mean spending more time with his beloved woman, instead of having her wait for him all alone back home.
Oh, if only he could look past the rose-tinted lens of love and adoration to realize the perfect trap you had prepared for him...
There were essentially three main situations that should have given you away, but that fool (/affectionate) is too much in love with you to have realized in time:
The first being your insistance of wanting to work with him in one of the busiest nights of the week. Your reason? He's been too busy lately with his other duties, so you wanted to at least be beside him... (Critical hit in his heart).
The second, your unusual choice of clothing - a skirt. Now, he isn't one to tell you what you should or shouldn't wear, he's simply surprised by it, considering it's a rare sight for you to use it. And hey, you looked absolutely beautiful with it.
The third and most obvious one - your smile. But not any smile. The one you specifically have on your lips when you have some mischief up your sleeve. Like a cat ready to pounce on an unsuspected bird.
When everything clicked inside his head, it was already too late...
You had gone behind the bar to help him clean the counter, the rush of customers dying down for the moment. While distracted wiping a glass, he accidentaly bumped into you, causing you to drop the empty cans left by some customers.
He quickly apologized, but you reassured it was fine, which really was! (He unbeknownst set the scene for the grand finale of your nefarious plan).
You, helpful as always, bent down to pick up the cans without thinking twice, causing the hem of your skirt to raise up a bit too much. Your man, gentleman as he is, was about to warn you to be careful, but any coherent thought was thrown out of the window.
It was a just glimpse. He could argue that it was just the work of his dirty imagination. A trick of the light. Anything.
But no. He knew exactly what he saw. And the wink that you gave him as you sauntered away was all the confirmation he needed to know he wasn't mistaken.
You're not using any panties.
You're working in his establishment, looking stunning as usual, with your pussy hidden only by your skirt.
Oh he feels light headed... due to all the blood going straight to his crotch.
It all makes sense now, your behavior, your choice of clothing... And now you're suddenly taking care of the tables, knowing that he can't leave the bar anymore with the big tent in his pants.
...Is this punishment for not paying attention to you the past few days? If so, he never knew you could go to such lengths to teach him a lesson...
Still, you should know that your lover isn't one to take things laying down. So, you better enjoy yourself making him squirm while you still have the advantage...
And enjoy yourself you do, much to his dismay.
He follows you with his eyes like a hawk, mind swirling with a myriad of feelings: annoyance, for being teased so cruely like this; worry, that someone might accidentaly see what they shouldn't; impatience, for the damn clock to stop dragging its hands and reach closing time already; and arousal, for having being tricked into a situation which you are the one in control.
As the night goes slowly by and the number of customers begins to decrease, the tension between the two of you grows more and more, like a volcano about to erupt.
Until finally, at long last, it's time to close the tavern.
It's time to show you the consequences of your actions.
----------
After bidding his employees a good night, he wastes not a single second more, locking the door behind him as the last inch of his patience snaps.
You're wiping one of the tables, pretending not to hear his steps coming closer to you from behind, a shiver of anticipation running down your spine. Before you can utter a word, you see his shadow falling on you, like a predator ready to pounce on his cornered prey.
He takes the dirty rag from your hand and throws it away, wrapping a strong arm around your waist to pull you flush against his chest. His other hand goes to grab your chin, turning your head to the side before stealing your breath with a kiss.
Actually, it can't even be called a kiss, but more like a two pairs of lips mashed together. It's messy, desperate and intense, his tongue invading your mouth with the objective of claiming every single part of you. Your lover's touch is rough, but not without care. Even when he's lost amidst the fiery passion that has consumed his usual composure, he never fails to make you feel loved.
As intoxicating as this moment feels, the need of oxygen is still a necessary thing for the both of you, prompting him to finally release your lips with a gasp for air. But not a second later he latches his mouth on your neck, nibbling, kissing and licking the tender flesh that soon becomes warm by his attention.
"Do you have any idea of what you did to me today?" His question is a rhetoric one, aware that your ability to think straight isn't working anymore to string an answer. "What am I saying, of course you do. In fact, you've came up with your little plan wanting things to turn out this way, right?"
Your only response is a moan when he grinds his clothed erection on your behind. Honestly, you didn't expect your plan to work so well like this, witnessing a side of him you're not used to, but still very turned on.
"Walking around all pretty like this, serving customers and helping the other employees out, with no panties on..." You let out a gasp of surprise when you're suddenly pushed down on the table, your skirt flipped out to expose your bare private parts, your cheeks flaring up as he caresses your buttock. "...Who knew I had such a lewd girl for a lover."
The harsh slap on your ass forces a loud yelp out of you, the pain of the sting mixing with pleasure that makes you shuddering. The sight of the plush skin jiggling at his action leaves him hypnotized and with his pants even tighter.
"I was tense the whole night, you know. Worried that some scumbag would try something funny and end up seeing what is for my eyes only." Another slap, now on the other asscheek, and he notices your pussy glistening with arousal at each hit. "You're getting even wetter... You're enjoying this, huh?"
A pitful whine of his name paired with the teary look you throw at him is enough to convince him to give up on his previous idea of dragging out this teasing and go straight to what you both have been desiring all evening.
Your lover grumbles in frustration at his vexing belt and pants, pushing the garment down enough to free his throbbing cock from its confines, the tip angry red and with precum.
You're so pent up with need that he doesn't even need to prep you further, seeing that you spread your folds yourself for him, impatient to have your wish fulfilled at long last. So, doing both of you a favor, he doesn't waste any more time and slides himself in, eyes rolling back at the warmth enveloping him.
"Fuck, so tight darling..." He massages your waist, trying to get you to ease up a little. You feel so fucking good, he fears he won't last at all.
His hips pick up the pace as your moans and pleas grow to a crescendo, your voice like a siren that beckons him to dive head first into this addicting chase for carnal pleasure, enhanced by the love shared between you two.
Sooner than he would have preferred, your lover reaches his peak, head thrown back and hips grinding hard against your behind, his cum filling you to the brim. You can feel your climax coming as well, his orgarsm bringing your own...! Until his cock suddenly slides out of you.
"W-Wha- Why did you-- ah!" Your words are interrupted by two fingers of his intruding your fluttering hole, him putting his weight on your back as he shushes you.
"You didn't think you get what you want so easily, did you love?" His voice is husky in your ear, fingers pushing his release back inside your pussy. "No, no, you've been a bad girl tonight. And bad girls don't get to cum now."
You whine in protest, attempting to wiggle your hips to get any sort of friction as you feel the waves of your impending climax waning.
"Please, love, please let me cum, please! It's been so long since I've felt your touch, I need you!"
His breath hitches when he listens to your begging, not expecting the neediness in your tone. It seems like his busy schedule the past few days took a heavier toll on you than he thought. He sighs, his heart is too soft for you to continue his original pay back.
"Alright, you win... But know this is the only time I'll let you off the hook for your little stunt, you hear me?"
You nod your head quickly, thank you's and promises to be a good girl falling easily from your tongue. However, you knew none of what either of you said will remain, you will continue being your teasing little self and he will continue letting your brat behavior slide, because that's the kind of couple you are.
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But that's the least of your concerns right now, your mind returning to the foggy state of pleasure as you continue your inappropriate actions in many different surfaces of his bar, adding yet another secret item to your list of things one shouldn't do in the workplace.
thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3
heart divider made by @/cafekitsune
red diluc and gallagher banners (smut) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly ;)
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the-writer-arrived · 2 months
Text
Lonely Birthdays No More
Synopsis: in alhaitham's opinion, birthdays are like any other days, ordinary. on this year's february 11th, alhaitham starts to think it's not so bad to treat one's birthday as a special date once in a while.
Character: alhaitham.
Warnings: gender neutral!reader; established relationship; fluff with no angst *gasps*, down bad haitham is the best haitham.
A/N: something sweet for my first hubby, love you my pookie <3
A/N 2: i'm sorry i promise this is the last time i repost this fic idk why it's been giving me such a headache 😭
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Birthday celebrations were something Alhaitham never quite understood the appeal of. Why would you do all that work just to commemorate the day you were born? And why make only that day special? Wouldn't it be better if people used that excitement for something productive and avoid bringing trouble to others?
But alas, not everyone (or anyone in that matter) would share this particular opinion.
It's not a secret that Alhaitham isn't the most social butterfly in all of Sumeru. Even when he was a child, he didn't have any interest in partaking in some meaningless conversations with people he had no desire to interact with, going as far as prefering to stay at home with his grandmother and be self-taught.
Knowing that, it's not surprising that he has never celebrated his birthday with anyone other than his only family. And after his grandmother passed away, the date of his birth became just another ordinary one for him.
Others may consider it sad, but Alhaitham isn't bothered by it nor does he want other people's pity. He'd much rather pass the day in peace and quiet than having to deal with strangers saying happy birthday the whole day and disrupting his work. After all, that was one of his grandmother's wishes: for him to live a peaceful life.
This year, however, he will learn that having a less peaceful day isn't as bad as he believed.
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Alhaitham stands at the entrance of his living room, staring at his roommate with a deadpan look. It's far too early in the morning (in the grumpy scribe's opinion) for him to deal with the blond man's sudden desire to redecorate the place.
"What's the meaning of this mess this time, Kaveh?"
"Huh? Oh, you're up already?" The architect steps down the ladder after noticing the other man's presence, leaving to Mehrak to hang the other tip of the decoration on the wall.
"As you can see, I'm putting up the decorations for the party."
"Party? What party?" Alhaitham frowns and takes a proper look around the room. Many colorful adornments fill the space, creating a festive look that seems quite out of place when compared to the rest of the house, the big 'Happy Birthday Alhaitham' on the wall giving the answer he was looking for.
Oh, right. Today is february 11th, his birthday. Is that what all this is for? Kaveh was never one to do such a thing on years prior. No matter, he should put a stop to this before it gets more troublesome.
"Kaveh, I don't--"
"Before you say that you don't want it, I should inform you that this wasn't my idea, but rather of a certain someone's lover. Surely you're not heartless enough to ignore their wish to throw you a party? One which they have been planning for weeks, mind you."
Alhaitham purses his lips, whatever it is that he was about to say being thrown out of the window. He should have known, your behavior the last few days had been quite suspicious, always hurrying from one place to another, meeting many people. You had told him it was for a project, so he didn't think much of it.
He attempts to hide the smile that wishes to bloom in his lips with a sigh. Kaveh, on the other hand, doesn't make any effort to surpress his grin, finding amusing that his roommate folds so easily at the mere mention of you.
Of course, the scribe won't let him have his fun for too long.
"What I meant to say was that I don't think the decoration is nice enough for my tastes." He walks to one of the shelves to get a rather... peculiar ornament (one of many that his roommate tried to convince him to not buy it). "I believe this would be the final touch it needs."
"Are you kidding me?! No way! This thing would throw off the whole aesthetic!"
"Oh? Surely you're not heartless enough to ignore my wishes today of all days?"
This time, it is Kaveh's turn to fall silent. Using his own words against him, how childish can he be?!
With a glare, the architect snatches the ugly statue from Alhaitham's hand while the other leaves to the kitchen with a satisfied expression.
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For a house that has been considered a tad too big for two people to live in, now it seems a bit too small to host a total of seven people. Fortunately, the guests are too preoccupied having fun to be bothered by it.
Cyno has managed to snag Kaveh to his team for a two vs two round of Genius Invocation TCG, the opponent pair being Tighnari and Collei. Meanwhile, Dehya and Nilou watch the intense match from the sidelines, cheering and chatting about various things.
As for Alhaitham, he's much too busy thinking about the one person that hasn't arrived to the party yet. You're the one who planned all this, there's no way you have forgotten about it.
After noticing the scribe's restlessness (something he would deny, despite his shaky leg being a dead giveaway), Nilou told him that you were finishing something important, so that must be what it is keeping you. Still, it has been some time and even the dancer has begun worrying about your whereabouts. You're not one to be this late to an event you've been so excited about.
With one last glance to the clock, Alhaitham raises from his seat, determined to find you.
"I'll be right back."
Ignoring the offers of his friends to accompany him on his search, he goes straight to the door of his house... Only to find you about to open it with your own copy of his key, a nicely wrapped box in your other arm.
You two stare at each other for a few seconds, before he huffs a complaint.
"You're late." He crosses his arms to show you he's upset, but it only makes him look adorable in your eyes, his frown being more of a pout.
"Sorry to keep you waiting." You grin apologetically.
Alhaitham can only sigh in defeat as he brings you inside, this whole situation being a reminder of the strong influence you have over him.
The party was full of life, laughther and good food the whole time.
He received many gifts, even from the Dendro Archon herself, who apologized in her letter for not being able to attend the party but still wished to show her appreciation for all that he does for the Akademiya and Sumeru as a whole.
But, if he had to pick a favorite, it would be yours: a pair of Aranara statues, carved in wood, that resemble you and him. You explained to him that the reason of your tardiness was that you were finish painting them and, considering they would be a gift for him, you had to make it perfect, which made you lose track of time. Despite your efforts, however, the statues ended up looking a bit weird, much to your dismay. Alhaitham didn't mind at all, arguing that the imperfections were what made them perfect in his eyes, not to mention that it's a gift from you, his beloved, there should have been no doubt he would like them.
As the festivities come to an end and the last guest leave with one last 'happy birthday' to him, the scribe can finally relax. As punishment for arriving late, he said you are to stay over tonight, something you were more than happy to agree with.
He finds you in the kitchen, putting away the leftover food in the fridge and finishing cleaning up. He tried to convince you to leave the mess for tomorrow, but of course you wouldn't budge, claiming that it'd be worse for the tomorrow you. Besides, everyone helped cleaning before they left, so there wasn't much to do anyway.
Alhaitham wraps his arms around you from behind and your hand goes straight to his hair, caressing his silver locks so gently that almost makes the man purr. He only allows himself to be more touchy when it's just the two of you and there's no risk of Kaveh accidentaly interrupt the moment since he has already retired for the night, feeling quite tired from waking up quite early to decorate the house.
"Did you have fun today?" You ask, enjoying the warmth of your beloved hugging you.
"I'd give a 8 out of 10, a good score for your first time being a party organizer."
"Well, that was higher than I expected. Still, what made you deduct two points?"
He takes a moment to hum in thought.
"The location is one thing. While it was nice being in the comfort of my own house, having to deal with the clean up at the end was a bit of pain. But that only takes half a point."
"Then, what was so bad that it took me a whole point and a half?" You drop the hand from his hair to turn around to look at him with a frown.
"The fact that you made me worried."
After you arrived, Nilou and Dehya pulled you to the side while Alhaitham was distracted speaking with Collei, to tell you about how your lover had been anxious for your whereabouts. (At least, that's what they thought, not noticing the man glancing at your little group from time to time, having a good guess of what they were telling you).
"I'm sorry, Haitham..."
"It's fine, what matters is that you're okay." He takes one of your hands, observing the small cuts on the skin due to you making the wood carvings, before giving it a kiss. "Thanks for party, I had fun."
He speaks quietly, as if sharing a secret for your ears only. The warmth of his kiss and words travel all the way to your heart, feeling glad that you could make your boyfriend happy on his birthday. Even so, that doesn't stop your playful side to show up.
"I've heard that earnest thanks should be given thrice, so--hmph?!"
He interrupts your cheeky words with his lips, thightening his arms around as he feel you melt under his touch.
Today, Alhaitham has learned that birthday parties were noisy, messy and quite troublesome, but also quite fun. He thinks he won't mind having another next year, the year following that and so on, as long as he has the people he cares about by his side.
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thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3
heart divider made by @/cafekitsune
pink alhatham banner (fluff) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly ;)
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the-writer-arrived · 3 months
Text
୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ alhaitham x pregnant wife! reader
a/n: i need to make him a father ♡
minors/blank/ageless blogs dni i am an 18+ account
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Alhaitham smiles at you, it’s a flicker of a thing, and you can tell he’s trying not to laugh at how you suddenly glare at him while you’re holding a zaytun peach, a large bite taken out of it.
you chew slowly, the juicy sweetness rolling around on your tongue and satiating your thirst on a warm Sumeru day. you chew the fruit like you chew on your husbands words, wondering if he’ll confidently repeat himself like the sure smartass he is.
“what did you say?” you swallow the piece of fruit, licking the remnants off your bottom lip. Alhaitham reaches up and wipes your chin with his thumb, further cleaning you with a second nature true to a man whose been your partner for awhile. the Grand Bazaar is incredibly alight with activity - and it’s a good way for you to get your walking in during your third trimester.
“i said, you have a cute waddle.” he repeats. you should’ve known he’d say it again, boldly.
you sneer, and Alhaitham plucks the peach from your fingers, taking a thoughtful bite of his own. he continues to walk at a leisurely pace, glancing back at you and holding out his free hand for you to take.
“i do not waddle.” you grumble, taking your place at his side and lacing your fingers with his. the cool linen of your dress brushes against your ankles and the various scents from nearby vendors no longer makes you sick but now entices you.
“you do, but it’s normal, especially for where you’re at in your pregnancy.” Alhaitham adds, you scoff and rub your swollen belly. you can’t see your feet anymore and eating oatmeal gives you heartburn, you’re also tired of walking - but you’re excited to meet your daughter and have been blessed by the Archon with a healthy pregnancy and baby.
Alhaitham places a guiding hand at the small of your back and leads you to a bench to rest, glancing at your puffed out cheeks of determination as you try to make yourself not waddle.
your efforts are abysmal, and when you plop yourself down on the bench, Alhaitham sits next to you and places a large hand on your stomach, rubbing at it in soothing circles. you pout at him, snatching your peach back indignantly and taking a bite. he chuckles softly and leans in close as if sharing a secret,
“you have the cutest waddle in all of Tevyat, my love. i promise you that.” he kisses your temple and you roll your eyes, grinning against your own will. your husbands quips still throw you for a loop. such a serious and quiet man, teasing his pregnant wife.
“you did this me, you know. you’re the reason i waddle!” you reach over and pinch his cheek, your husband sighing as he grasps your wrist. your fingers are still sticky from the peach, and he kisses your palm, tasting the subtle sweetness.
“and you are the reason our daughter will be beautiful, and a bit sassy.” he laughs. he plays with your wedding ring and brings it to his lips. hues of aquamarine meeting your gaze and bringing warmth to your face. you gasp suddenly, bringing Alhaitham’s hand back down to the swell of your belly, where he feels your daughter kick. his entire being illuminates with wonder and delight, smiling down at the sight of his hand and the feel of his babies tiny kicks.
“i think she heard you call her sassy.” you laugh, tears dotting your lashes while you both grin at each other.
“then, i hope she also hears me say i can’t wait to meet her.” Alhaitham coos in response with another kiss to your head.
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reblogs very appreciated!
dividers by @/cafekitsune
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the-writer-arrived · 3 months
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Disciplinary Method
Synopsis: you cannot stand veritas ratio, just the sight of him (or his stupid statues) makes your blood boil and causes you to argue with him everytime. sick of your attitude towards him, dr ratio believes you deserve to be taught some discipline.
Character: dr ratio.
Warnings: afab!gn!reader; explicit smut; reader is a member of the intelligentsia guild; kind of brat taming; semi-public sex (you two fuck in an empty classroom); fingering; use of a bullet vibrator; rivals to lovers but not really?? more like fuck buddies? rivals that fuck each other?
A/N: don't look at me, i lost the battle against my demons and was forced to write this!!!
<<This work has sexual themes and is not suitable for minors. If you click on read more, I am not responsable for any discomfort you may feel reading this. You have been warned.>>
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The Intelligentsia Guild is a place that welcomes people from all walks of life that have the desire to learn. You are fortunate enough to be one of their scholars and you love teaching, love seeing the spark of passion for knowledge in your students' eyes.
But it seems like not everyone in the Guild thinks the same as you.
"Fail. Get out of my sight!"
Those words are frequently said by Veritas Ratio, or Dr Ratio, your insufferable colleague.
The first time you met, he barely spared a glance at your direction and complained about the arrival of another 'simpleton'. Suffice to say that that was a declaration of war.
From that day onwards, whenever you two would cross paths in the hallways, one would throw a snarky comment which would prompt a jab from the other until it becomes a full out argument (you'd call it 'academic debate' but whatever).
What other people don't know is that most of those arguments between you two end up in a way that was quite unprofessional...
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"I can barely hear you. 0 points."
"Stop grading me, I'm not one of your stude- fuck!"
The harsh pull of your poor nipple interrupts your complaint.
You don't know how long you've been in this empty classroom, your pants and underwear hanging on your ankle while Veritas keeps you on his lap, your legs spread open as he tortures your chest from under your shirt with one hand and keeps teasing your folds with the other.
"You kept running that annoying mouth of yours the whole day to get on my nerves, but now you want to keep quiet?"
He makes another attempt to make you moan louder, this time pinching your sensitive clit, and he would have succeeded, if you hadn't bitten down your lip to stop the sound from escaping. The scholar clicks his tongue in annoyance at your stubborness.
"If that's how you want to play, be my guest. Let's see how far you can hold on with this."
Veritas' hand leaves your chest to grab something that makes your eyes go wide: a small, silver bullet vibrator.
"W-When did you get that? And why do you have it with you?!"
"Recently. I thought it would be a useful tool to teach a certain brat a lesson, but who knew the opportunity would present itself so soon." He presses down the button and the bullet starts to vibrate with a low hum.
He starts dragging it from your neck, the cool object feeling nice on your heated skin. Then, he goes to your inner thighs, tracing it ever so close to your needy pussy, but never touching it like you wanted.
"Will you stop playing around alre--Ah!"
Your words are once again interrupted, this time by your own gasp of surprise and the way your whole body shivered when the vibrator is suddenly on your clit. However, as quickly as it came, the stimulation is taken away a second later.
The anticipation and the desire to be touched properly are getting on your nerves, so you grab the hand holding the wretched toy to push it to where it should be, but the man simply turns it off.
"You're not getting what you want so easily. You either do as I say and be as loud as I want or you go back to teaching your next class unsatisfied. Surely even an idiot like you know what choice to make here?"
The look on his eyes tells you he's not bluffing. You've been a fool to doubt him once before and paid the price. Between letting the quality of your teaching drop because of sexual frustration and having your pride get hurt by obeying Veritas' words like some obedient dog, of course you'll choose the latter.
"...Fine."
"Good, it seems like you do have a working brain after all."
The insufferable man smirks, satisfied with your decision. He turns the toy back on and rubs languid circles around your clit, your essence helping the movements feel smoother. You grasp onto your shirt and his arm, doing your best to not muffle your shy sounds and lose this feeling.
"Better, but still not good enough."
"Ngh just... Just shut up, ah..."
Since you've been edged and teased for so long, it doesn't take long for your gasps and whines to become louder. You get closer to the edge, but there's still something missing.
"M-More... Need more..."
Dr Ratio doesn't miss your hole clenching pathetically over the tip of his fingers, your body showing what you truly desire. The asshole chuckles, reveling in the sight of you so pliable and obedient in his arms like that. If you didn't constantly get on his nerves, he'd consider you almost cute.
It's almost embarrassing how your cunt basically engulfs his two fingers with ease, your head thrown back to rest on his shoulder as you moan with abandon. You don't even care about your surroundings anymore, the intoxicating sensation of his long fingers pumping in and out of your drooling hole paired with the small vibrator rubbing on your clit making your brain melt.
You singing so beautifully right into Veritas' ear and the hypnotizing sight of your pussy leaking on his knuckles are both things he wants to engrave in his memories, to be able to recall them time and time again until the next time he has to discipline you.
"Please, please I want cum, please let me cum!"
Your sweet pleas go straight to his twitching dick and he hides his blushing cheeks on the crook of your neck, his voice coming out as a groan.
"Very well, you earned it. Come for me now."
Like an automatic response to his permission, your body convulses in his hold, tears running down the sides of your face and mouth hanged open with a hoarse chant of his name.
Veritas turns off the toy and slowly retreats his fingers, your legs still shaking a bit.
"See? That wasn't very hard, was it? If you had behaved yourself from the start, you would have had this much earlier."
"Oh fuck off... You made me cum using a vibrator, that's nothing to be cocky of. I do that all the time."
"And you call my name as well when you're alone?"
You blame your lack of a comeback at your foggy brain, choosing to whack his stupid face with the back of your hand.
Suddenly, you both hear a melody coming from below you. It's your phone, which had fallen out of your pants' pocket, the screen showing the alarm you set up: 10 minutes until your next class, which is on the opposite side of where you are.
"Oh shit, I'm going to be late- woah!"
If it weren't for Veritas holding you by the waist, you'd surely fall down, betrayed by your own weak legs. You've never climaxed so hard like you just did, but you'll never admit that to him, his ego is already too big without that knowledge.
After making sure you're stable enough to stand on your own, the scholar lets go of your waist and watches you quickly dress up and fix your appearance.
His eyes rest on your neck, wondering how would you react if he to left a mark there, in a place for everyone to see... But he knows he shouldn't indulge in such fantasies, that would cross the boundaries of your... dynamic and he'd hate to cause you this kind of distress.
Dr Ratio is brought back from his thoughts when you go to the door of the classroom and point an accusatory finger at him.
"This is the last time we're doing this, you hear me?!"
You leave before he could respond, but he just chuckles. You always say that after you two get frisky and it has never held any meaning, considering that it's never ended up being the last time for real. He secretly hopes it continues that way.
Now, he needs to deal with his own 'little' problem before he can leave and act as if nothing scandalous happened in this empty classroom...
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thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3
heart divider made by @/cafekitsune
red dr ratio banner (smut) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly ;)
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the-writer-arrived · 4 months
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The edge of Wriothesley’s desk digs into the small of your back, the hard wood undoubtedly leaving an indent in your skin from how you’ve leaned on it. Any other time you’d frown and huff, but it was difficult to properly gripe about it right now.
“Your grace.”
“Yes?” The Duke murmurs damn near right into your ear, almost low enough to be a purr. With how close he is —how his face hovers over your and his hands rest on either side of your waist, bracketing you in— you can almost hear the rumble of the word come straight from his chest.
You can leave this proximity easily— you know this, and so does he. But for some outlandish reason, you find yourself inclined to rest here, surrounded by him, the desk at your back be damned.
“Your grace,” you try again, voice soft to match his. “What are you doing?”
It’s odd to see the normally eloquent man, who never stutters in his words or backtrack in his thoughts, to be so quieted— almost struggling with finding the right words.
“I don’t know,” Wriothesley settles on finally, a furrow in his brow. “I… don’t know. Something I should have done sooner, probably. This… thing between us has been driving me mad. I feel like I’d regret it if I hesitated any longer, you know?”
And oh, you do. The unspoken tension that hangs in the air when it’s just you two in his office, when you have lunch, or spend time together— you feel like it’s been clogging your airways and making it hard to breath. Each day with you both toeing the line of the meaning of all those longing glances and soft smiles had been wearing on you. What a relief to know that you’re not alone in your struggles.
You hum, leaning forward just enough so your nose brushes his. With a thrill in your stomach, you don’t miss how he swallows heavily, how he blushes just the tiniest bit.
“If you’ve grown tired of our song and dance, then pray tell— what do you want to do instead?”
“Whatever you want,” is his immediate answer. There’s a growing confidence in his eyes, a hope that flickers brighter and brighter with each second you let him be near you like this. “Whatever you’re willing to give me. Whether that be just a single kiss and nothing more, or being able to wake up beside you and kiss you good morning until you get sick of me.” Then he swallows, his words coming out slower. “But if you push me away and you say none of this meant anything, that’s fine too. Like I said— whatever you’re willing to give me, I’ll take without complaint.” But I really, really hope that you don’t choose that last one. I think my heart would actually break.
You can see how Wriothesley grows more tense with each second of your silence. He tries to cover it up well, but you know his tells. He glances away, the flush on his cheeks traveling up to the tips of his ears, making him look cuter than you ever thought was possible.
A soft hand on his cheek is all it takes to snap his attention back to you.
“Morning kisses don’t sound too bad,” you tell him slowly, wanting him to hear every word. You think you can feel your heart in your throat. “Though I have to ask: is breakfast gonna be included in this deal? Because a hard ‘no’ to that is an absolute dealbreaker for me.”
And when Wriothesley grins, when he has to fight the laugh that begs to be let loose from his chest and the minute tremble that rakes through his whole body, you think you’ve never seen him more radiant. You wish to see that kind of softness on him every single day. Oh, you’re so damn smitten with his man.
“You’re gonna have to settle with my shitty cooking, but I can at least promise that I’ll try.” The look in his eyes is gooey and warm and sweet— the flavor of melted chocolate and honey.
You wrap your arms around his neck, slinging them over his shoulders, and rewardingly scratching the nape of his neck when his arms come to wrap around and press you to his chest in turn. “Sounds delightful,” you say, and his heart does a flip in his chest. Can scarcely believe that this is real.
“Can I kiss you? Please?” He asks softly. “I’ve been wanting to do it for the longest time.”
You hum, looking at him from beneath your lashes. “Go right ahead, your grace.”
His thumb presses gently against the plush of your bottom lip, the edges of his restraint visibly fraying. “My name, please. If I’m going to kiss you, I’d rather have my name on your lips, not my title.”
“Wriothesley, I’m waiting for that kiss.”
You have just a split second to register the absolutely lovesick look on his face at the sound of you saying his name, the way he melts and shakes against you. How he looks at you so softly it almost makes you choke up. Wriothesley presses his lips against yours, painstakingly gentle as he moves against you, in a kiss much too long overdue— the first in a series of many that he’s all too happy to give you.
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the-writer-arrived · 4 months
Text
Wedding Bells Underwater
Synopsis: after things have finally settled down in fontaine, wriothesley can finally fulfill the promise he made to avice and faissolle. watching their dream come true makes the duke think about his own future, one with you, he hopes.
Character: wriothesley.
Warnings: gn!reader; established relationship; spoilers for wriothesley's story quest.
A/N: i got so happy that they were included as a nice easter egg on wrio's birthday art 🥺
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"...I'm sorry, you want me to do WHAT?"
"Help me organize Avice and Faissolle's wedding."
You stare dumbly at Wriothesley, the faint music coming from the gramophone the only sound in his office while you try to gather your thoughts. Has the workload finally taking its toll on him? Surely he knows that you have zero experience in organizing a wedding???
"It's nothing too complex like you're thinking. I just want you to act as a 'bridge' between the couple and me, since I have other matters regarding the Fortress and can't focus solely on them."
You make a 'ohhhh' expression, now understanding what is expected of you.
"Why didn't you say so from the very beggining?"
"Because I wanted to see what kind of face you'd make. And I must say, you never disappoint sweetheart."
Like the mature adult that you are, you decide to not say the snarky remark you thought and simply leave his office to look for the said couple.
(It's a lie, you stick out your tongue childishly and rushed out of the room before your lover considers cuffing you for disrespecting authority. Not that you would mind it that much).
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For someone who knew basically nothing about planning a wedding, you got into it pretty quickly... Maybe a bit too into it, if you were being honest.
The decorations, the location, the order of the events, the dress! Blame it on your perfectionist side, but really, after everything Avice and Faissolle went through in the Beret Society incident, they deserved a perfect wedding.
Even if it wasn't going to be a large scale event, due to all the limitations that comes with choosing the Fortress of Meropide as the venue and the couple's own wish for keeping it simple, there still was a lot of work to do. Knowing that, Wriothesley announced that those who help with the preparations would be awarded with double Credit Cupons. Suffice to say that you got all the workforce needed pretty quickly for the preparations to go smoothly.
After many meetings, headaches and shipment delays, you can now admire the results of yours, Wriothesley's and all the volunteers' hard work.
"Didn't know you had a secret talent for this. Ever considered changing careers?" The man beside you asks quietly while the bride and groom are giving their speech.
"Archons forbid! Do you have any idea how stressful that was? I have a newfound respect for professional wedding planners." You whisper back, remembering the way you basically passed out in bed the day before, all the stress and sleepless nights knocking you out.
Before he could say anything else, the spotlight shines above him and all the guests turn to look at your table.
"Your Grace, words are not enough to properly thank you for everything you've done for us. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be standing here and be able to call Avice my wife." Faissolle's words falter, him and his bride trying hard to control the tears. Wriothesley smiles at them, raising his glass in appreciation for their words.
"Of course, we can't forget the one responsable for turning our ideas into reality." The spotlight is now shining on you as well and you feel your face warming at the sudden attention. "Thank you so much for creating such an incredible wedding for us, we'll never forget this day."
Everyone raises their glasses in a toast for the newlyweds, cheers running through the crowd of guests when the couple finishes their speech.
----------
"...A penny for your thoughts, Your Grace? Or does it require Credit Cupons as well?"
You nudge your lover's arm to get his attention, seeing his faraway look.
"Oh yes, at least 500 Credit Cupons for such information." He chuckles when you roll your eyes. A beat of silence falls and you wait patiently for him to continue, if he wishes to do so. "I was just thinking that, in all the years I've been in the Fortress, I've never imagined I'd one day have it decorated for a wedding, of all things."
Wriothesley's eyes run along the tables of guests, the other former members of the Beret Society and others who became friends with Faissolle and Avice, all smiling happily and having a good time. A peculiar sight to see when you remember this merry ceremony is taking place inside a prison.
His attention returns to you at the feeling of your hand slipping into his, fingers entwining themselves with his easily like two puzzle pieces.
"That means all of your hard work is bearing fruit. The Fortress of Meropide can also be a place of good memories and new beginnings. The proof of that is right in front of you."
The Duke knows you must have meant the event, but, to him, his good memories and new beginning are you, always have and hopefully always will be.
Throughout the process of organizing the wedding, Wriothesley had wondered what kind of ceremony you would wish for. A big and impressive one? Or maybe a more low-key one, with just your close friends and family? What kind of attire would you like to wear? From Chioriya Boutique, of course, nothing but the best for his darling in their special day.
"Everyone! I'm going to throw the bouquet now!" The bride announces, causing a buzz among the excited guests.
"So? Should we go too?" Your boyfriend asks with a smirk and a playful glint in his eyes.
"Why not? Since we're here, we might as well have the full experience!"
There's already a crowd gathered in front of Avice when you and Wriothesley decide to join them. You both don't really mind though, choosing to stay at the back and observe the enthusiasm of others.
One could think it's funny how excited someone could be at the chance of getting the bride's bouquet, a chance of getting married in the future. Or maybe, it's not about marriage at all, but actually for the idea of having a better future after their sentence time is fulfilled.
Or maybe it's all just a projection of the Duke's own feelings about this.
...Who knew a celebration like this would make him think about things he's never considered before?
He shakes his head to clear his mind. You both weren't there to try and catch the bouquet for real, so there's no need to think too deeply about it.
Unbeknownst to him, fate had other plans.
It all happens too fast. At one moment, you watch Avice throw the flowers high into the air; at the next, you feel someone bump into you from behind, causing you to stumble forward. Thanks to Wriothesley's quick reflexes, he manages to prevent your fall by wrapping a strong arm around your waist. And then, you find yourself staring at the bouquet that had landed right into your arms.
What in the world?!
"Ohhhh they caught it!"
"Man, I wanted that bouquet..."
"Does that mean we're going to hear news about the Duke's wedding soon?!"
"It's about time for His Grace to tie the knot!"
The comments, cheers and the sheer craziness of this unexpected twist makes you laugh, both in embarrasment and disbelief.
In amidst of all the excitement around you both, Wriothesley can't help but think that that must have been Celestia's sign for him to stop wasting time and go after the bright future that awaits him.
Now, what would be the best ring to buy for his future spouse?
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thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3
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pink wriothesley banner (fluff) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly ;)
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the-writer-arrived · 4 months
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WICKED DRAGON, LAY WASTE TO ME
⤀ synopsis: neuvillette has always been the gentlest of lovers—and so tonight you ask him not to hold back ⤀ cw: afab!reader, unprotected + rough sex, size kink, praise, overstimulation, breeding + creampie, marking, monsterfucking (dragon cock), cervix fucking, multiple orgasms, dumbification, mentions of mates, lil bit of dom!neuvi (??) but he is still sweet — mdni || ꒰ 8.4k wc ꒱ a/n: leviathan fic for leviathan neuv ( i’m not talking abt his constellation ) rbs + feedback are always vry much appreciated ♡
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“Well? What do you think?” You come home, twirling before him in a gown, different than the one you had left in. The short hem at the front lifts mischievously, teasing just a peek of what lies underneath, while the longer, flouncing layers of skirts behind you, wrap flirtatiously around your legs. Neuvillette feels his throat run dry.
“Navia and Clorinde thought it was high time I changed my look, and you know I can’t ever say no to Chioriya Boutique.” 
While he’s spent the better part of the night reviewing court documents in the parlor, you have been out with Navia and Clorinde, who he thinks have perhaps plotted to kill him. ‘Girls’ night,’ you had called it.
Draped in a vivid palette of the finest fabrics, decorated interchangeably with delicate metalwork and dainty ribbons, the blush on his pale skin is ever-present as he rakes his eyes up and down your body. The dark, patterned stockings, squeezing your thighs just enough, so that supple flesh spills obscenely over the top, the tight, whale-boned embrace of your corset, accentuating the curves of your waist, and pushing upwards the swell of your breasts…
A coy smile graces your features when you catch how his throat bobs in his silence. Giggling, you lean down, tracing the tip of your finger up the contours of his neck, skimming the gentle curve beneath his chin until you’ve tilted his gaze to yours. “Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, got nothing to say?”
How can he even think, much less find the right words to say, when the familiar scent of your perfume fills his head with indecent, lascivious thoughts? Everything about you is intoxicating, almost insidiously attractive, so would it suffice to say that he’d much rather see your pretty, new dress abandoned somewhere on the floor? 
That first pulse of arousal translates into the first twitch of his cock, and oh how he wishes to kiss away your teasing little grin, but his lust-driven eyes are drawn to the miniscule movements of your bodice sleeve, predatory as he watches how it begins to shift, ever so slowly, off your shoulders. 
“If you don’t like it, then perhaps…” You loosely roll your shoulder, letting the sleeve slide right off. “…you’d like to help me undress?”
That, he will gladly do. His hands fly to your waist, dragging you down into a straddle over his hips. 
“Temptress,” he murmurs into the skin of your neck, distracting you with a featherlight kiss as his nimble fingers waste no time in undoing the delicate clasps of your bodice, leaving the heavy outer garment to tumble off your shoulders, abandoned in a pile at your waist. 
Cool air licks at the now exposed skin, though it’s nothing compared to the warmth of his lips as he slots his mouth against yours, gently coaxing you open with a subtle swipe of his tongue. Your eyes flutter shut in honeyed complacence, allowing Neuvillette to kiss you slow and sweet; impassioned, ardent, each kiss an oath of love and longing and lust. 
Desire blooms like romaritime flowers upon water, and you just know the tension underneath his placid exterior, is ready to burst. It’s prevalent in the way his muscles grow taut, tense beneath your every touch, fighting to hold himself back as your legs squeeze around his hips. Demonstrated, again, by how he pulls apart your corset, impatient and haphazard as he unlaces each cross, before tossing it to the ground, forgotten. And of course, only you can attest to the searing sensations of his escalating kisses—gentle wisps, once faint and docile, now wanton and heated with depravity. 
You can already feel it in your chest, in your bones, in the wetness that’s begun to form between your legs; maybe it’s the anticipation, but despite the layers of clothing you’ve already shed, you find it even harder now to breathe, especially as he holds you so close, body pressed against yours, while he traces the bare curve of your neck with his lips. 
For one with such a carefully crafted visage of elegance and poise, Neuvillette becomes sloppier as his restraint fades and lust seeps through the cracks. Something about you drives him wild, draws out the more carnal side of him that he so desperately seeks to hide away from you, who he could never even dream of hurting. 
But perhaps he’s spent too much time amongst humans. Or perhaps he understands their nature more than he had initially believed, for he makes the most human mistake of all in letting his control slip—enough that his fangs graze upon your sensitive skin, sending a shiver that reaches all the way down to your core, eliciting a moan so mellifluous, he cannot help but utter a sigh of strained content as the undeniably sweet sound reaches his ears.
“If we don’t stop now, I’m afraid I won’t be able to hold back,” he mutters, tongue laving over the spot in apology. It doesn’t help that you voluntarily crane your neck, offering him even more access in your heated bliss. His fingers dig into your waist in a silent plea to still your rolling hips. 
“So don’t,” you breathe. “Don’t hold back tonight.” Desperate to have him closer, you arch into him, the loose material of his shirt firmly clasped in your hands, deepening the kiss with a quick tug, a silent request for him to let go, but he immediately halts his movements, pulling away in hesitance. 
Oh Neuvillette. Your sweet Neuvillette, who in spite of his stern exterior, is the gentlest of lovers—always so tender with you and steadfast in placing your pleasure before his. You know of his draconic origins, know that he holds back in fear of hurting you, but for all the times he’s pleased you to the fullest extent, you only wish to do the same for him.
Your hand reaches to cup his face and he leans into your familiar touch, steely eyes soft. “It’s okay, I trust you.”
It’s already difficult denying you anything on a normal basis, so how can he, now that you sit, straddled over him, determination colored in your bright eyes, and with nothing but flimsy cloth left between the two of you. His eyes linger at your chest, the scooping neckline of your lace slip doing nothing to hide the smooth crests of your collarbones, begging to be marked. 
Neuvillette sucks in a breath, and attempts to swallow his doubts, before exhaling. He can no longer ignore the tightness in his groin, and to you, it’s clear that the obvious erection poking from beneath his trousers, speaks much louder than the uncertainty storming in his eyes. Perhaps he just needs one more push…
Your fingers come to curve around the sharp lines of his jaw, unwavering as you tilt his head up into your gaze. “Don’t worry about me, I can take it.”
His heart threatens to leap out of his chest in a flash of excitement, gratitude, desire; it’s far from the first time you’ve lain together, but to choose to bear such vulnerability before him, to surrender yourself to a full-fledged dragon… He glides his hands over the round slopes of your shoulders, easily sliding off the straps of your slip as he goes. The silk garment collapses down your torso, piling atop your forgotten dress. 
“If that is truly what you wish…” He presses an openmouthed kiss to the bare skin between your breasts, and the warmth of his breath runs a chill even colder than the night air. His whispers hide a growl, and despite the blush apparent at the tips of his pointed ears, his hold on your waist tightens. One hand slides down to grasp at your rear, and you can feel him smile against your lips, the rattle of a faint chuckle rippling in his throat before your breath hitches as he picks you up in his arms, and carries you off to the bedroom. 
He sets you by your shared bed, tearing off his now wrinkled shirt, while you wriggle out of whatever’s left of your dress, until both sets of clothing are discarded somewhere on the floor, and you’re finally left in only your panties and your stockings.
Immediately, his hands find your waist, roaming up and down over your curves as he smothers you in hungry kisses, herding you along until the backs of your knees hit the edge of your shared bed. This Neuvillette nips at your bottom lip, not asking for, but demanding entrance into your mouth, and you have no choice but to let him in, what with the way he makes you whine as he sneaks his hands down to knead the globe of your ass, before lowering you onto the bed. 
The tingling sensations bloom in your stomach, buzzing with excitement while you ready yourself to surrender completely—pliant to his will, whatever it may be. Arousal swallows you like the sea and he has yet to even really touch you. Impatient, your hand wanders, though not far down enough before you’re caught in his grasp. 
“Patience…” he mutters, pinning your wrist beside your head, broad shoulders caging you in between him and the sheets. His other hand follows the natural lines of your body, tracing along the edges until he stops to fondle one of your breasts. 
It’s impossible to relax your speeding heart at this side of Neuvillette: less reserved in his touches, more candid in his wants. The untreated heat in your body makes sure to touch on every part of you, running like water through your veins, until you’re sure your dripping cunt is pulsing with a heart of its own. Unable to stand the ache any longer, you wriggle beneath him—rolling your hips and squirming until your knee unwittingly brushes against his crotch, eliciting a choked grunt from him, only slightly muffled by the fact that his teeth have dug their way into your exposed flesh. 
He immediately pulls away at the sound of your surprised yelp, eyes darting to and fro across your features in frantic search for even the smallest semblance of discomfort, completely missing the way your entire body had seemed to arch into his touch. His eyes finally settle at the light indentations now displayed upon your once unblemished skin.
“Forgive me,” he begins, “I should have been more careful.” Neuvillette is ever the gentleman, but his voice is clearly strained in a poor attempt at fighting back his instincts—instincts that demand a dragon to mark what is his. 
“There’s nothing to forgive.” A soft smile graces your lips as your hand reaches to cradle his face, curling around his jaw in hushed reassurance. It’s so easy to read the thoughts that plague him so. “It felt good, I promise.”
True to your word, his heightened senses easily pick up on the scent of pure arousal that drifts from between your legs, swirling in the air, and lulling him into a state he’s kept buried for so long, he’s unsure of whether he’d be able to hold himself back even if he wanted to. He admires your bravery for daring to poke at the slumbering beast; bravery he knows stems from a place of passion, but how can he release such inhibitions upon a mere human? So physically… fragile. 
“I meant what I said: I can take it. And I know you won’t hurt me so…” Your fingers clasp around his shoulders, pulling your lover down just far enough to whisper, low and sultry, in his pointed ear.
“Don’t you dare look down on me, o’ hydro dragon sovereign..” 
You lurch forward, manicured nails drawing light lines down his bare back, and he meets you halfway in a long, drawn out kiss. A quiet growl rumbles from deep within his throat, clearly aroused by the way you had drawled out his full title. He nips at your bottom lip, dragging out a single, short gasp before leaving to trail wet kisses down the column of your throat, never stopping until his lips hover over the very spot where he had previously made his mark. 
He doesn’t even have to touch you, just his presence, tangled with your own anticipatory excitement, invites a shudder so deep, you can feel it in your bones. The sharp edge of his fangs scrape along that still-sensitive patch of skin, lightly, as if testing the waters, though this time, he makes sure to take note of the quiver in your pretty little mewls. 
Slowly, he bites down again and a moan slips past your lips, forced out from the very depths of your chest as your fingers fly to tangle in his moonridden tresses. His hot breath seeps past the barrier of your skin, leaving every nerve privy to his effect, and combined with the building pressure, you’re left open for the stream of soft whimpers that leave the perfect ‘o’ of your parted lips. As he sinks his teeth deeper, you squeeze your eyes shut in the midst of all the pleasure.
“Do it again,” you gasp, “felt good… ”
And oh, he has absolutely every intention to, what with the way you’re putty underneath him. However, he must do something about how distracting your hands are when you tug at his hair: hard enough for him to groan with an ache so wanton, it sends tremors echoing down until his trousers feel far, far too tight. 
Neuvillette is neither here nor there when he alternates between kissing and sucking and biting at your tender flesh—anywhere is fair game when you’ve relinquished yourself to him like this. With how attentive his lips are along your body, you hardly even care for the absence of his hand when he reaches around to untie the ribbon in his hair… at least not until it’s too late and you're left bemused by the uncharacteristic display of boldness; after all, it’s all you can do when your wrists are suddenly so tightly bound overhead.
You whine as he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, suckling and swirling his tongue, while he ravishes the other between his fingers. Heat surges through you and the aching desperation congregating in your belly begins to boil; you’ve never felt so sensitive, never been more pervasive to his touch.
Inside. You need him inside of you. But with your hands currently incapacitated, you’ve no other choice except to buck into him, beckoning him with your hips in the hopes of redirecting his attention to where you throb. 
“Inside. Please. I need you. Need you inside.” 
He hums in acknowledgement of your wishes, tugging at the hardened bud with his teeth, successfully wringing another shaky cry from your throat, before he finally pulls at the delicate lace of your panties, and guides them down the length of your legs. You easily kick them off, but in his observation, his piercing gaze catches every thrum of your muscles as they tense underneath the hand that finally trails between your thighs. He drags his lithe fingers between your folds, coating them in your slick, while his thumb rubs your clit in slow, but firm, circles. 
“My apologies for the wait.” Neuvillette kisses you right above your heart, where his acute hearing easily picks up how it palpitates as he dips his fingers into your velvet walls. “Allow me to make amends, my love.”
With the way your cunt gushes so copiously, it’s easy for him to slide all the way down to the last knuckle. He flicks his wrist, pumping fast and hard, scissoring you open before slipping in a third digit, drawing out mewl after pathetic mewl, as you fail to pull yourself together. The bedsheets twist beneath your incessant movements: simultaneously squirming not only from the initial stretch, but also to feel him deeper.
The discomfort is all too familiar, but with just the curl of his fingers, it washes away into unadulterated pleasure, just as it always does. But with your arms tethered, leaving you open and powerless, everything—every touch, every twist, every curl—feels tenfold.
Plus, no one would even believe you if you were to say that the chief justice had such a playful side in the bedroom; his fingers have explored your insides far too many times for him to just miss the little spot that he definitely knows by muscle memory. Whining, you buck your hips, senselessly grinding into his hand, hoping he’d get the message, hoping he’d quell your heat right at the source. 
But something dangerous and wild and primordial shines in the blue-violet glow of his eyes. For all the times you’ve made love together, he’s never seen you like this: so desperate, so needy for him. He pinches a nipple, hard, before locking your jolting hips down; a show of strength to remind you of your place. 
“Please, more.” Your voice rises in congruence with how you struggle against your ribbon-bound wrists. His fingers tease the spot again, this time with more force, and he watches as you keen and clench around him—helpless and at his mercy. 
With a curl, his fingers crook inside your silken walls, pistoning in and out, fast and hard. Arousal continues to build, turning the low squelches into distinct suctions. Every nerve in your body is ignited, seared by the heat as he laps at the overflowing wetness that seeps out of your entrance. A satisfied purr sounds in his throat, and the vibrations dare your hips to buck in spite of the iron grip that holds you down.  
It thrills him to see you steadily fall apart like this, coming so undone before him, dissolving under the weight of your pleasure. It’s just as you had wanted. More. So you can take it, can’t you? You can take more? 
Neuvillette slots your throbbing clit into his mouth, hot tongue relentlessly striking the swollen nub with viscous lashes, while his fingers continue to bully your insides with no intention of slowing down. Sucking harder, fucking faster—you keen at the added stimulation, back arching clean off the bed in blinding pleasure, unable to do anything more than let out jagged sobs as you cum.
Your entire body grows taut as he sees you through the end of this high, before finally drawing out with one last sleight of his hand, so that his fingertips might graze along the velvet top of your walls, bidding farewell with another shudder-inducing wave of euphoria. He exits his soiled digits, clearly pleased as he inspects the amount of slick that coats his elegant hand. 
“You’re absolutely divine.” He hums whilst licking up the side of his wrist, so as not to waste a single drop of your liquid pleasure. It’s intoxicating how exquisite you are, more decadent than even the most pristine of waters. “Perhaps you’d like a taste?”
His offer is rhetorical at best, as he answers for you, already slipping his slender fingers into your open mouth, tangling them with your tongue, until the first bits of drool begin to dribble from your lips. 
He unties your wrists, releasing them from the ribbon’s hold; time and experience have proven that you’ll need something to grasp onto. In a haste, Neuvillette discards what remains of his clothes, and his cock springs forward in all its glory: long and thick, pale tip leaking and thrumming with desire. 
“You’re absolutely sure… ?” he mumbles, voice trailing off, almost embarrassed. He can no longer control the way his hips twitch in excitement, begging to bury his cock into your warmth, but for his gentle heart’s sake, he needs to hear you say it again.
You laugh out a soft ‘yes’ but just for good measure, you rake your nails down his chest, applying just enough pressure to tickle his nerves. “Use me,” you goad. “Come on. Be wicked, my dragon.” 
Neuvillette exhales, chuckling softly at humanity's arrogance. Wicked dragon. If that was what you wanted... “I wonder if you’d still say the same after I’ve finished with you.”
He pins you back down in one fell move, and aligns himself to your entrance, stopping after inserting only the tip. A delicate whimper leaves your lips as you wince at that familiarly sweet stretch, but you and your little cunt are both so eager to please—the continued arousal you churn out, weeping nonstop, and already clenching around just his cockhead. You wriggle into him, trying to fuck yourself deeper on his fat cock as you adjust to his size. 
Reaching up, you pull him into a seemingly reassuring kiss, hands smoothing over the framing pieces of his hair, before curving around his jaw. His lips follow yours, but as you pull away and the short pieces of his hair fall back into place, you notice how his slitted reptilian pupils are dilated almost round. 
“You wish for me not to hold back,” his voice comes in a low growl as he inches further into your cunt, “so please show me how resilient you are.”
It’s all the warning you receive before he slides the rest of his length to the hilt, burying himself in your creamy insides. A shattered sob tears through the room, and your arms fly around his neck in a desperate attempt to anchor yourself, but it only pulls him closer as he leans more of his weight into you, pressing down and reinforcing the heavy plow of his merciless hips. 
Taking him all at once like this burns like wildfire. Pain from the sudden, rough stretch spreads hot and fast, the small embers bursting into a blaze of arousal as pleasure breezes through just as quickly—like air infinitely adding to an already devouring flame. 
“You’re taking me so well,” he praises, turning his head to reward a small kiss to your cheek. Your hole gushes, rushing to quell the heat, and the added lubrication helps you settle into his pace. Still, the dual sensations wash over you like the tide. It pulls you under, drowns you and consumes you with absolute ecstasy.
And just when you think you’ve grown accustomed, Neuvillette lifts your hips, aiming for the spot he knows will drag out the most wonderfully broken cries from your throat. Your nails dig into his back, and he groans at the vice grip as you clamp down around his cock. With each powerful thrust, he buries himself balls deep with a force that has your tits bouncing along to his rhythm, letting the wanton sound of your sobs ring throughout the room, loud enough to almost drown out the lewd noise of skin slapping upon skin. 
The coil in your belly is wound so tight that you’re sure it won’t be long until it collapses into itself. That it won’t be long until you yourself are about to implode, like a star ready to burst. 
“I’m going… going to…” Between the ragged breaths and the overwhelming sensations of ecstasy, you can’t even find it in yourself to think straight.
Neuvillette hums, his liquid smooth voice doing nothing to hide his amusement. “You’d do well not to break so soon.”
He thumbs your clit, drawing tight circles, ignoring the way you convulse beneath him. As your back arches, he drags the flat of his teeth from the edges of your collarbones, down through the valley between your breasts. 
Your entire body quivers, legs jolting by reflex to the intensity of your orgasm, vision blurring white as your lover continues to pound relentlessly through your high. There’s a layer of fuzziness over your mind that leaves you feeling as if you’re floating atop calm waters, but the fingers still thrumming on your abused nub are quick to drag you back into the salaciously dangerous depths of your own pleasure. 
A string of pitched whines follow in the aftermath, but the pretty noises you make has him throbbing even from within your tight hole. You ask him not to hold back, yet here you are before him, so small and pitiful, already writhing from the intensity—and he hasn’t even cum yet. 
Tears threaten to fall from your eyes, your body struggling for a break from the stimulation, but Neuvillette finds it quite adorable, in the way that a predator might toy with its prey. He slows his thrusts, but reaches deeper with every roll of his hips, each languid stroke hitting the exact spot that fills your sight with stars. 
The lascivious sounds of your soaked cunt perfectly swallowing his cock, followed by the slap of his heavy balls on your ass—he’s mesmerized by the way he disappears and reappears, and disappears again inside of you. His heart skips, and he bucks, breaking his rhythm. You undo him like no other, and it spurs him on that he too, seems to have the same effect on you. The way your pussy holds on to him so tightly, the helpless cries of his name amidst your hiccuped whimpering… 
He lets out a small chuckle, breath hot and ragged in your ear as he sucks at the inch of skin below. “Surely you can give me another,” he murmurs, the low grumble of his voice reverberating all the way down, until you can feel the vibrations in the hollows of your collarbone. 
Your eyes flutter, desperately blinking away the wetness that has begun to gather at your lash line. Sweet Neuvillette, your Neuvillette who reveres you more than he ought to and touches you like you’re made of glass. Even through the numbing haze, you know that for him, you’d give anything. 
A long, stuttered moan breaks out from between your lips. As if biding his time, he drags the entirety of his cock along your walls, the large vein that wraps around the length gliding along just right, that your back arches and your knees bend. It’s not that he means to move so tortuously slow, but you squeeze him to such an extent that in spite of his aching need to cum, he cannot help but try and savor the delicious way your walls are gripping for dear life. 
Neuvillette pulls out with the sticky squish of your slick. His throbbing cock, long and flushed, glistens with the sheen of your juices. In the emptiness, you think that perhaps he’s taken pity on you and your now overly sensitive cunt, but that just isn’t fair. Not to him, nor you and your once again looming orgasm.
“You haven’t even cum yet,” you gasp, trying to argue through baited breath. The whole point of this was so that he could feel just as good as he always made sure you did. So why would he—
“I know.” 
You can feel him as he lifts you, flipping you over like you’re nothing more than a doll, and manhandles you onto all fours. Limbs weak, mind frazzled, you’re barely able to hold yourself up, so when he realigns himself at your entrance and slams back through your folds with just as much power as before, you quite literally fall apart. 
“Too much?” The low chuckle in your ear is dangerously taunting, wickedly amused and with no sign of its usual sweetness. You’re able to muster a pitiful whine, but the way your entire body trembles tells him everything he needs to know, as he reangles you mid-thrust.
“I believe you said you could take it.” With a particularly powerful snap of his hips, your arms buckle, and you collapse onto the mattress. The intensity continues to send you jolting forward, but his reaffirmed grip on your waist holds your hips in place.
Nothing deters him as he ruts into you, hitting deep new angles that have your fingers grasping at the sheets while your cunt grasps onto his cock. With every slap of his skin against yours, his tip threatens to kiss your cervix, the aftershocks rippling through you until they’re released as broken sobs, muffled into the bed. 
How unfortunate that such noises, so very sweet to his ears, would be hidden from the world. Tangling his fingers along your scalp, Neuvillette tugs at your hair, lifting your head back so as to hear the pretty melody you sing when your cries ring around the room. Good. Just as the whole of Fontaine should recognize a dragon’s mark on your skin, they too should hear it’s he who pleasures your body so.
Little bits of drool trickle out of your open mouth, your eyes rolling back as he keeps up the brutal pace. Everything feels too overwhelming, yet so tantalizingly good, that your back curves and you’re creaming around him again. 
Electricity shoots through your veins, your lungs desperately racing to catch up with the rapid beat of your heart. The stars painted across your vision drop down to your stomach, exploding with an intensity that rattles you to your core. It’s a flood with no remorse—taking and leaving nothing in return, easily washing away any and all thoughts, until you’re left mewling the name of the only one who could ever give you such a sweet taste of heaven. 
But Neuvillette continues to thrust into you, and as he, too, nears his peak, his tireless strokes finally melt into something a little more forgiving. Just a little. The long drag of his cock slides so smoothly against your slick walls, gentle enough to fool your delirious mind into loosening your grip around him. 
What trickery from the wicked dragon who slams his hips forward with enough force so that your body jostles with every push and pull as he hits all the right spots again and again. Trapped under the weight of his body, all you can do is feel: the heat of the room smothering all your senses, the fervorous thrusts pushing you to your very limit—all you can do is feel and take it as he kisses the spongy head of your cervix, leaving you without a semblance of sanity, blabbering indiscernible nothings that beg to milk him dry.       
“Want more,” you keen, voice as broken as the crystalline tears that roll down your cheeks and melt into the pillows. “Inside. Wan’ it inside.”
Neuvillette laughs, low and airy, strained as his grip tightens, fingertips digging into your hips hard enough that it’d be sure to leave bruises come the morrow. “Is that what you want?”
“Please, please I–” You stop to let out something between a pant and a moan. “Want you to, h-hah, cum inside, wan’ your cum inside me.” Your walls clamp down even harder, as if attempting to trap his cock deep inside you forever, as if you weren’t already tight enough around him. 
White fills his vision, and white fills your womb as Neuvillette cums to the knowledge that you love this. He takes in the sight of you, his precious treasure, now reduced to the likes of a common whore: legs quivering, ass in the air, cunt filled to the brim and leaking from where the two of you merge. All for him. By his doing. 
Such splendor automatically evokes the instinct to claim you in a way far beyond that of human understanding… but you’ve already let him indulge more than enough tonight; he couldn’t possibly ask for more. 
You whimper when you feel him stir again inside you, careful as he brushes past your too-sensitive folds, but even such simple movements hazard to relight the flicker of arousal once again. Every ridge and vein, drawn out so agonizingly slow, sends an inadvertent shiver down your spine until he finally pulls out with a squelch.  
There’s no hope in tearing those sharp, reptilian eyes away from your puffy cunt, abused and messy and leaking with your combined fluids. Neuvillette sucks in a breath, trying to suppress his urges as much as he’s trying to swallow down the desire quickly boiling over in his belly again. Cumming inside you—no, breeding you—was a privilege. For dragons such as he, it’s a ritual reserved only for mates, and given the difference in your physiology, he had never allowed himself to do so—at least not until now, that is. 
In his defense, you had begged for it, and how could he ever deny the very one whom he has entrusted his heart to—especially when you were so beautifully fucked out and unraveled on his cock like that. And perhaps he’s lived among humans long enough to forgive this indulgence as a paradigm of fleeting desire, though nothing of what he feels for you could ever be considered fleeting. 
He parts your folds with two slender fingers, giving himself a better view as his cum now seeps out with suent access. You whine again when you feel him drag his digits down the sides of your pussy lips, catching the overflow before it can fall onto the sheets, and stuffing it right back into your little hole. No point in stopping now, if he’s already committed his sin.
From your half-lidded gaze, you manage to steal a glance at your lover, and judging from the erection that still stands stiff as a rod, he has yet to be satiated. In the attempt to break through the shadow of delirium, you lift your head, shifting your weight back onto your elbows, and forcing your battered body to turn just the slightest bit over. 
“You’re still hard,” you note through staggered breath, “We can go again if you want.”
Neuvillette looks down as if he hasn’t already been feeling the near painful arousal throbbing in his groin. Of course he’s still hard—how could he not be; you’re so complacent before him, offering yourself to him like that. But perhaps he is too soft-hearted, for he only lets out a reassuring hum as he leans forward to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. 
“You were beyond perfect tonight,” he murmurs. “It… might not be pleasurable for you if I continue anymore. I can finish myself.” 
Lovestruck, you shake your head. “I can take it r’member?” Your large eyes, red-rimmed and dreamy, plead for him to use you—use you to his own content, use you so that he’d feel just as good as he always makes you feel. You nibble at your bottom lip, bashful. “You can even use your other form if you'd like...” 
Your words catch him off guard, and he immediately stills in a half-hearted attempt to collect himself as another wave of pure, unadulterated desire pulses through his entire being. Neuvillette swallows hard before letting out a slow, shaky breath. His cock twitches and his muscles tense beneath the creamy skin that now seems to gleam with a soft shine, revealing scattered patches of effervescent cerulean scales. You affect him more than you could possibly know, revitalizing such carnal urges that ignore his will and allow his body to react so enthusiastically.
“You’re sure…?” His normally polished tone is husked in a defiant strain. Despite the way his pupils are blown wide and wild with lust, conflict still swims in the shallows of his expression, made clear by the way his voice rasps as he desperately claws to retain even a semblance of his composure. 
The tips of your fingers trace the blue streaks that protrude from the crown of his silver head, now hardened into twin ribbons of ivory; his horns, delicate but strong, glow a luminescent azure—so warm and inviting in its radiance… You grasp them tight, pulling him down with you, as you fall back into the bed, his lips pressed against yours. Of course you’re sure. He’d never hurt you, your Neuvillette would never ever hurt you.
“Devious…” he whispers between kisses, your tongue and teeth clashing in a waltz of their own, as his body drapes over yours. 
It’s not the first time you’ve seen him in this form, crossed somewhere between a human and a dragon, as beautiful as he is powerful. But it’s certainly the first time you’ve ever attempted to take him like this. He’s bigger in this form—you can already feel it as he grinds up between your legs. Longer. Thicker. Ribbed and embossed with the same pearlescent blue scales. Beautifully intimidating, just like the dragon sovereign himself. 
And as you continue to marvel, he lets his cock rest across your lower stomach, sizing you up. His fervor shines through in the way he’s already leaking a mess of sticky precum atop the smooth skin of your belly. A satisfied hum vibrates in his throat, clearly enthused. 
“This is how deep I’ll be,” he muses, almost apologetic of the incoming stretch you’d have to endure. “I’m beginning to wonder if I can even fit inside you.” 
Would it be wicked of him to admit, even to himself, that he enjoys the way you wriggle and cry just taking him in his human form? And yet… he’s forced to steady his breathing in a poor attempt at grounding himself—a task near impossible as you roll your hips up, ardently shaking your head no, outright ignoring the last out he offers.
“I will… make it fit.” They’re the last words you manage to wrangle out before being overtaken by the need to be full and filled. There’s no reason you should be so terribly, terribly hollow, when he’s right there. Neuvillette chokes back a laugh; your unyielding determination sends blood rushing to his erection, desperate to feel your velvet walls crowd around him again.
Finally relenting, he teases your entrance—running his cock up and down your slit, spreading your wetness, before slapping your clit with the tip—reminding you just how sensitive you still are. Gasping, you jerk away from the stimulation that once again taunts your nerves. Your hole, however, clenches around nothing, eager to please. 
But perhaps you’ve greatly underestimated just how big he is, because he barely makes it past the threshold of your folds, before the pleasure pain of the stretch begins to take over. That, and the overstimulation from your previous orgasms, already have you instinctively trying to snap your legs shut, but the firm hold on your thighs forbid you from doing so.
“Ha-ah N-neuvi—” A twisted sense of pride swells in his chest at the way you can hardly speak as your breath hitches and your lungs desperately search for air. “’s too big,” you sob.
He gives you a momentary reprieve to adjust, while his hand snakes down to run sloppy circles over your clit.
“More?” he whispers. 
It takes you a minute to respond, but he waits until finally your voice shakes with the violence of each hiccupped sob. “More.. please…”
A baritone hum sounds in his throat as he pulls forward, pressing wet kisses to your jaw in a quiet reassurance, effectively sliding a couple inches deeper, as he does so. “You can take it, my love. You’re so pretty like this.”
Your arms wrap around his neck, your hold eliciting a long, low groan from the dragon. Wherever you squirm, he follows, pressing more of his weight onto you, burying more of his cock into you. Each ridged inch that slides past your folds, seems to push the thoughts right out of your head, letting them dissipate into thin air until you’re left mindlessly moaning sweet praises to his name. 
Desperate to accommodate the unfamiliar enormity of his dragon cock, your walls ripple and tense around him, back arching into him, wanting to feel ever closer to the love of your life, determined to push your cunt to its limit for him. For your Neuvillette. 
Neuvillette. Neuvillette. Neuvillete. He’s all you can think about; him and his monster cock that seems to split you so deliciously open. It’s wave after wave of heat that sets your insides ablaze, soothed by the waters of arousal that have you begging for more, and restarting the cycle until he finally bottoms out, and you feel as if you’ve been electrified. You squeeze your eyes shut, but with the way his bulbous tip prods at your cervix, your mind goes blank, and the tears fall regardless. 
“There…” you pant, eyes glassy from the euphoria of feeling so incredibly full. “’s all in.”
“Yes,” he praises, softly. “Look at you, so nice and tight for me.” 
He wipes the salt from your cheeks, distracting you with a delicate kiss. His fangs are more prominent in this form; you can feel them as he grins against your lips, whilst whispering breathy nothings that tell of how good you are for him, how perfect, how he should be so lucky to have you like this, to have you as his. 
When your body eases enough, he pulls away, though the subtle shift of his cock still drags a pitched whine out from your lips. If he’s to be honest, he cannot tear his gaze from where the two of you are joined. It’s mesmerizing, hypnotic, to see how he splits you open, to feel how you mold into the shape of him, to imagine just how much your little cunt had to stretch so that he might rest comfortably inside.
Though, comfortable might be an overstatement due to the way your muscles tense and release so tightly around him, clamoring for more of his attention.  Eyes darkening with lust, Neuvillette smooths a hand over your abdomen, cerulean scales cold upon your skin.
“Can you feel me right…” He draws a clawed finger delicately across the skin of your belly, where his cock rests parallel underneath. “Here…”
He leaves more than just a faint line of red where his talon rakes. Yes, you want to say. You can feel the faint prickle of his claw on your skin, you can feel how the sharpness sends a shiver ringing through your body, and of course you can feel how he’s sheathed his dragon cock right into the very depths of your cunt, deeper than anyone’s ever been, deeper than he’s ever been… But the only sounds that spill through your lips are another stream of broken sobs, fever touched by how close you are to cumming just from being filled.
“Go on, darling. Cum for me.” He can feel you pulsing around him, clenching and unclenching in search of sweet release, yet he makes no additional moves to help you, leaving you to your own devices.
At this point, you can no longer tell if you’re making things better or worse, as every little movement knocks you into reaction—like dominoes toppling over until every piece of you has been unraveled. You writhe atop the soiled sheets for any sort of friction, but it’s too much when his tip knocks against the entrance to your womb. So you shift away, letting the ridges on his shaft graze against your syruped walls, inciting another wave of need. The scales continue to tip between ‘too much’ and ‘more’, until you finally work yourself into a delirious orgasm, on nothing but his cock inside you and your own incessant squirming. 
As you continue to ride out your high, Neuvillete finally begins to move, tearing himself away from your fluttering vice grip with a tremulous moan, because fuck you’re still so tight around him, still so warm and wet even after cumming for what? The fourth time tonight? Pressure lands heavy over your frame as he begins to rock into you, folding you in half as he does. 
He fucks you slow and even, stretching you out even more with every new stroke. Your mouth drops open in a silent scream as this new position affords him the privilege to reach impossibly deeper. Despite his shallow thrusts, each drag of his cock still blooms an ache from all the hidden spots that he has no choice but to touch, though it’s quick to pass, as pleasure continues to coil in your belly. 
It’s so much all at once. You can’t take it, it’s too much. But the soul-shattering euphoria of being so utterly full, is unparalleled. You want more, you need more.   
“My pearl,” he whispers, though his voice is gruff, “my heart… I want to hear you.” 
And so you oblige him, wailing something broken and pitched and strangled, at the sudden snap of his hips, at the way he bumps into your cervix and seems to rattle your organs about. 
“F-fuck,” you cry, without thinking. Not that you can anyway, when the push-pull tide of his thrusts raises you to new heights of delirium. “H-ah god, fuck Neu–”
Another sharp, jutting thrust cuts you off as the dragon above you snarls, clearly agitated by your crass choice of words. “There are no gods to help you here.” Not in Fontaine where he rules, and certainly not here in his home.
There’s a feral wildness that shines in his bright vishap eyes, and his possessive streak flares—dragons have no natural inclination to share after all. It’s clear in the way his pace changes: faster, harsher, more ragged—a ferocity befitting of an elemental dragon ruler. But titles aside, he’s still your Neuvillette, and every move he makes is still laced with a tenderness, so as not to break you more than he already has. 
“Tell me you’re mine,” he commands, dragging his tongue up the length of your throat.
“Yours. ‘m yours, Neuvillette.”
In and out, in and out. His long strokes guide the ridges of his cock back and forth through your tender muscles, leaving you to mumble mindless nonsense as you convulse and keen beneath him. Whatever pain you had felt earlier has long chipped away into undeniable pleasure as you near the precipice of yet another orgasm. Eyes glazed over in all consuming ecstasy, all you know to do is to chase your lust, and so your hips grind back, rolling together like waves in a storm. 
Amidst the flagrant wet sounds of your rabid fucking, you cum again, lashes fluttering as your eyes roll, muscles tight as they tremble from such rapture—so lovely, so beautiful. Your siren call of pretty cries spill from your lips, intermingled with weak babbles of his name. You’re so breathtaking like this in your post-climax haze: fucked out and cloudy-eyed, panting into the cool air as his slowed thrusts still rack up an aftershock of shudders.
Neuvillette bows his head, once again trailing wet kisses across your collarbones, before pausing to hover his lips right over the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his warm breath a familiar spot of comfort in this maddening pleasure. Perhaps it’s some sort of sixth sense unique to only the most attuned of lovers, ones whose souls seem to harmonize in perfect resonance, but there’s hesitance in the way he suckles at the spot, fangs ghosting over your tender skin.
“S’okay… you can do it.” Your soft, dreamy sighs of approval are accompanied by the languid tilt of your neck, jeopardizing more of your delicate skin to the dangers of his teeth. “You can mark me… w’nna be your mate…”
Choking back a moan, Neuvillette pistons thrice more into your cunt—pulling out until just his tip remains, and then plunging back into your gooey insides, sending you into another round of dizzying convulsions. His own orgasm follows, seeing stars as he places an amorous bite to the crook of your neck using only the flat of his teeth. 
With how deep he’s buried, ribbons of his cum shoot right into your womb, spilling out into every cavity, and painting your interior white. Warmth blossoms from the inside out. Your heart is full, mumbling happy nothings of ‘mates’ in between sniffles, while a creamy ring forms around the base of his cock, thick liquid oozing from where he ends and you begin. His own chest rises and falls in jagged patterns, but his only want is to seek your lips, to drink in your mewls, and exchange sweet kisses, so that your soul and his, may meld together as they dance in the shape of your breaths intertwined.
He strokes your hair, planting easy kisses all around as he unplugs himself, letting loose the flood of cum that seeps out of your hole, but you whine at the loss, wanting nothing more than to be ever close to your newly consummated mate. Neuvillette only nuzzles into your neck, deep purrs of content reverberating from his chest as he lazily rubs his scent all over you. Meanwhile, a quick swish of his sapphire tail up the sticky underside of your thigh, teases another pulse from your cunt, and by reflex, you push out another dollop of white. 
A small tap tap to his shoulder distracts him from his scenting, and he looks up with a tilt to his head and a small furrow to his brow, his normally sharp eyes full of earnest concern, relaxing only once he finishes reading through the bleary, dulcet tones of adoration that glow in your half-lidded eyes. You poorly suppress your little giggles—although he often disagrees, your lover really can be quite adorable. 
Fontaine’s Iudex Neuvillette is elegant, poised, and meticulously polished… but here in the quiet night hours, in the privacy of your hearth, your Neuvillette is unruly-haired and damp-skinned from satiating the beastly desires of his still tender heart. You reach out a tired arm, first brushing back the pieces of hair that cling to his skin, then wrapping your palm around to cup his face. 
“Was I a good mate?” Your hand slips down from his cheek to play with the tips of his silvery hair. “W’nna be the best for you.”
“You already are the best for me.” His hand, no longer clawed nor scaled, brings yours back up for a kiss to your knuckles. “The only one for me.” 
He rolls off of you, sweeping you into his embrace, as he carries you off to the bathroom. Your head rests heavily against his chest, but your happy hums and quiet murmurs of ‘good,’ tell him that you have not drifted off into slumber just yet.  
“You truly are a wonder,” he breathes, dipping his head to place a soft kiss to your forehead. “And it would be my honor to have you as my mate… but not tonight.”
His instincts had urged him to do it, to permanently claim you as his, and mark you as a dragon would, but his heart vehemently disagrees. The most sacred bond known to his kind is an ultimatum in your relationship, and it is one he refuses to be the sole architect of, so perhaps the two of you can revisit this conversation again once you’re more clear-headed; his answer would remain the same anyways.
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a/n2: writing this took years off my life, but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless ! as always, thank u sm for reading, and reblogs + feedback are very much appreciated ♡
© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform
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the-writer-arrived · 5 months
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Could I request a female reader cockwarming Wriothesley but the two of them are struggling to stay composed and focused?
I know I wouldn't be able to stay composed and focused.
Pairing: Wriothesley x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, cockwarming, getting distracted, neck kissing, shoulder kissing, work sex
A/N: Wrio food! Come (haha) and get it.
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This was his idea. He was the one who was hard. So he really shouldn't be the one complaining here. You should be. Because you were the one who had to sit still and wait for him to be done with his work for the day. And it was absolute torture too.
Wriothesley's big cock filled you, touched every nerve in your pussy that made you want to roll your hips in his lap but you couldn't. He told you to stay still. And you tried, you really, really tried to stay still. But for the life of you it was an impossible task. "Hold still already. It's only a little bit more."
His hand pressed against your hip as if that could hold you. "You're the one whose cock desperately needed attention." You barked back at him with more fire than you had in a while. Wriothesley only rolled his eyes and went back to the task at hand trying to finish it as soon as possible so he could take you home and give you the fucking that you deserve. That or he would fuck you right here, it all depends on if his self-control is strong enough.
He leaned forward to grab a pen, which made you lean forward, and made his cock press against your g-spot harder. "Ah!" You couldn't help but clench around his cock, pussy walls fluttering and getting little drops of cum splattered all over them. Not his full load but definitely the beginnings of it.
"Damn it. I told you to hold still!" He wrapped his whole muscly arm around your shoulders and pressed his hot lips against your neck. His soft, spiky hair tickled you, only making your task harder. "A while longer. I promise just... just stop squeezing my cock!" Those were the words you'd never thought you'd hear from your boyfriend.
It comforted that you that Wriotesley, such a pillar of strength, was just as desperate to finish as you were, in more ways then one. For the sake of that you would do your very best to remain still.
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the-writer-arrived · 5 months
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── it almost pains wriothesley when he notices your hand reach back and grab his hips, a feeble attempt at trying to slow down the eager thrusts he’s oh so generously giving while ploughing you from behind. he grunts at your pathetic hand, wrapping his own around your wrist and pinning it behind your back, “baby. . if you’re trying to stop me, at least put some effort into it, hm?” he chuckles hotly against your ear, wasting no time to press his sweat-covered chest on your bare back, hard cock reaching a toe-curling depth inside your wet cunt. wriothesley notices the way your walls clench around him like a desperate little cockslut, “aah. . you like it when i hold you close to me and fuck your little cunt like there’s no tomorrow? yeah?” his voice is gruff, pillowy lips dangerously grazing at the sensitive spot below your ear, just how you like it. “or is it because you’re vulnerable like this, hm? you like being fucked when you’re all helpless? oh, how naughty of you.” oh he’s such a menace. wriothesley moans into your ear “ah. . ! ah. . ! ah . . !” mirroring the ones slipping past your own lips, as if to mock the way how cock-drunk you were; the way you shamelessly open your mouth to let him know how good he’s making you feel. wriothesley can’t help act this way whenever he’s balls deep inside you, so mean and merciless but oh once you come, he’s nestling his face into your neck—whispering sweet nothings against your sweaty skin, endless praises for how well you take him leaving his lips. such a daring contrast from the carnally hungry beast he was a few moments ago but that’s what you love about him.
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the-writer-arrived · 5 months
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the-writer-arrived · 5 months
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Oh to have such power over him 😩
more rich boy alhaitham pls🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽i love the concept and how u wrote it😭🙏🏽😭🙏🏽😭🙏🏽😭🖤
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cw. ⪩⪨ fem! reader, rich boy au, rich boy alhaitham, process of falling for you HARD, a little possessive again because I cannot help myself, rough sex & very messy
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whether you believe it or not, rich boy alhaitham has never been in love before— and the scribe thinks about one specific kind of love here, one you read about in books, one you can evidently witness between two strangers while crossing the street.
essentially, he was attractive and he knew it, a man blessed with extraordinary intelligence and talent, bringing to mind that he was exceptionally wealthy as well.
so, speaking from an outer perspective, those factors certainly couldn't be the reason as to why he was unlucky on finding his perfect match— in fact, no one could ever deny how greatly alhaitham was being admired by the people of sumeru.
or was he?
or perhaps, they really don't often pay attention to him, because you see, he doesn't want them to.
he purposefully keeps a low profile, with a veiled identity and ulterior purposes hidden right beneath, so that he could rest easy and indulge in a comfortable life— with his wealth continuously growing, yet no specific target on what to do with it, or on who to spend it on besides himself.
yes, it was true, he sometimes catches himself getting lonely.
but in spite of that, after he meets you it's different, because suddenly alhaitham finds himself in trouble without noticing how the feelings of love were already coursing through his veins.
how unnoticeable falling in love was, snap and it's over, it's astonishing how he just needed to get closer to you.
you swallow thickly, and it was foreseeable that you ended up in his bed again, it's on the point of each night that it ends the exact same way now.
both of you knew why you were sharing a bed again— lewd and lustful traces curving over the slopes of your body and stimulating your needs— how utterly interesting how fast someone's mind could simply switch off and decide that you were in love now.
just from a simple look, and alhaitham was yours.
and he never would've let this happen to himself— the stress on how to navigate through an emotion such as love, especially since there wasn't a rational answer behind the multiple explanations he read about in the past, nor could you buy real, pure love with money.
if it were for anybody at all, he would just brush it off or at least try, but you just had to be so cruel and invade his mind.
you feel his gaze on you now, and it's the way his breath tumbles over your parted mouth that you know he's done for— his tongue driving between your lips before lapping over your pink muscle as his hips leisurely push into you.
it drives alhaitham insane, no amount of money could even come close to this feeling of pleasure and genuine lust, it's like a heavy drug someone would grow addicted to in the twinkling of an eye.
you squeal when he bites down on your bottom lip, your trembling frame teetering on the edge of a rapid sensation while every slap of skin turns the bedroom aflame, until the pleasure goes straight to your puffy clit, overflowing your belly with butterflies.
a burning pressure pricks at your spongy walls as his cock repeatedly crowds you, giving your hips a good squeeze as alhaitham presses you back into his length, making sure you're taking him all at once.
your arousal was clinging to his toned abs and turned the view before you all the more sinful, your soft pussy glistening with your slick and his pre when he uses it as a natural lubricant to make it pleasurable to the both of you, hitting your aching spots just like that.
alhaitham can hear how much you're enjoying this and he hopes he doesn't give away how much he has been enjoying this as well. of course, it's much more evident in your case, precisely from the way your moans trembled and your hips stuttered and flinch into his dripping dick, your body attempting but ultimately failing to meet his thrusts half way as you're struggling to find any strength to lift your hips up.
alhaitham sees it's too much for you by now, he can also feel it in the way you're clamping around the base of his erection with dripping heat, until he was all soaked and wet in your oozing arousal.
needless to say, the wealthy man placed a mental note into the deepest depths of his brain for later— to, as one might expect, treat you to a glorious shopping spree with a luxurious dinner waiting for you afterwards.
basically wherever you wanted to go to, he would make it possible, because obviously he will make it happen just for you! and wether the feelings he was encountering right now were pure and good ..
.. alhaitham would do anything to keep you, and he won't ever lose you.
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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the-writer-arrived · 5 months
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Wrio would 100% do that and it makes me want to slap him. In the mouth. With my mouth 🥴
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While you were both dancing around... whatever kind of relationship you have, you had become intimately familiar with the fact that Wriothesley loved to call you terms of endearment. From anyone else, you'd gag and cringe at the cheesiness of the pet names, but somehow Wriothesley just made them work. Even some of the most cliche ones ever— Cheri. Love. Amour.
You had just been getting used to it, had just been getting used to fighting down the unbidden curl of your lips whenever he calls you by these names, when he decided to change things up a little.
"Hey, mon cher, come take a look at this for a sec," Wriothesley says easily, barely even looking up from the newspaper in his hand. You, however, stop in your tracks.
Mon cher. My love. Mine.
You're not entirely sure when Wriothesley started adding 'my' to the beginning of each of his cheesy little pet names, but you can't deny that every time you hear it, it sends you into a flustered little tizzy. You try to beat back the flutter of the butterflies in your stomach, try to fight down the heat that finds itself at your neck and the tips of your ears. Goodness, you have to will yourself not to hide your face in your hands, if only because that would make your predicament that much more obvious to him.
You nearly jump out of your skin when the very object of your embarrassment stands before you, his hand light on your shoulder. His brows are furrowed in concern, the back of his hand already raised to your forehead in a soft touch as if to check for a fever.
"Are you alright?" he asks, other arm holding you steady. You need the support, but not for the reasons he might think.
“Yeah— yeah,” you say, trying to shake yourself out of it. Trying to banish the thought of him calling you my love for the sake of your own sanity. “Yeah, I’m fine, no need to worry.”
“You sure? You’ve been kind of out of it recently.”
You gulp, gaze unsubtly trying to drift away. For a second you debate between being honest and merely shelving the topic for another time, but... something about his concern makes you want to dissuade his worries, even at the cost of your own pride.
Painstakingly, you try to clear your throat. “Yeah, I just…the… the pet names, they…”
Wriothesley raises a brow, blinking for just a second before a smug, pleased little grin finds its way onto his lips. “Oh? You mean, the little additions I added to them?” And when you only nod once, unable to look him in the eye despite how physically close you both are, his grin widens.
For the sake of your dignity, your racing heart and the steady heat crawling up your face, you wish that he’d give the teasing a break, but instead Wriothesley comes closer half a step, wraps both arms around you and leans down close enough that you can see the way the blue in his eyes shifts with the light.
“Does it get you all flustered when I call you mine, mon cher?” He practically purrs, just to prove a point. It makes you swallow heavily, makes you want to smack him out of sheer embarrassment.
You do, in fact, try to slap him on the chest but he just laughs like it was nothing— curse him and his muscles.
But he manages to catch your hand by the wrist before you can draw it back, placing a sweet kiss on the back of your hand, and you come undone.
He holds your hand tenderly, his arm still wrapped around you, keeping you cradled against his chest
"You know," Wriothesley admits softly, leaning close and keeping his voice low, like it's a secret he wants to share only with you. His smile is boyish. Cute. Filled to the brim with affection and honey. "I'm actually really happy that you like it, because I really like thinking that I'm yours, too."
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the-writer-arrived · 5 months
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This just makes my size kink stronger FUCK 🥵😩
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cw. ⪩⪨ fem! reader, size kink/size difference, dirty talk, possessive wriothesley, sloppy making out, established relationship
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"feel," wriothesley sighs out heavenly— glaring through you, his touch sensual and claiming his territory, his low lidded eyes slowly indulging on your bare figure.
he grabs your hand softly now, to lastly place your palm on top of his growing bulge, smirking from head to toe as his heart jumps at your sultry whimpering.
"see what you do to me?"
"only you can touch me like this,"
it's something wriothesley needs you to know, his deep intention has to reach you, so you're completely aware that he wants you all to himself— after all, he believes that no one knew you the way he did, nobody was able to take in your delicate beauty or your darling figure, you were so fucking perfect in every way, filled the dark space in his heart with your warmth.
without much surprise, the duke swiftly manages to rid himself off his own clothes before leaning into your figure, hungrily lapping into your mouth when he takes his twitching cock in his palm, slowly fisting it up and down and spreading the clear pre on his shaft.
ugh— just thinking about what's about to come manifests tears on your waterline, wriothesley was just so big, that thick and delicious when he slips the head of his cock into you, pressing into your cunt so softly while exhaling through a deep sigh.
you moan together, his voice slightly crumbling when you prance your fingernails through his ripped back— scratching along his muscles until red scratches decorate his tensed skin.
this pretty and wet cunt belongs to him— and your walls are just so soft and cozy that it almost brings him to literal tears.
his erection was battering your twitching cunt with a fast and deep tempo that fucked out your mind, bounced you back and forth the mattress— and like starved of each other, you cut of the sinful noises with wet, passionate kisses, tongues dancing a lewd dance.
you gasp at the blows of hips rattling your body into new heights, your thighs quite jittery when he presses one leg over his shoulder to feel you succumb to him on his cock— more so become entirely delirious on his shaft, high on pheromones mounting the air between you.
wriothesley pulls you closer to him, instantly swallowing the next pitiful whine and stealing it from your wet lips— stretching you out to the hilt until you're clenching on to his shoulders for the dear life of yourself.
at your trembling state, surrounded by his musky scent invading your nostrils— you're turning lightheaded, so overstimulated, lastly letting the duke have his way with you.
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the-writer-arrived · 5 months
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This was such a roller coaster of emotions, got me wrapped from start to finish 😩👌 I could feel the raw emotions and devotion
𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘
[summary] wriothesley has noticed a change in your behavior towards him, and thinking the worst, he keeps himself busy in the fortress of meropide as he awaits your certain rejection. instead, he learns that you had the notion in your head that he could ever love anyone else besides you, and proceeds to clear your head of such silly thoughts.
[cws] fem reader -> wrio’s wife. angst to comfort to smut. oral. minor overstimulation. wrio is in his feelings, heavily. reader thought wrio was interested in clorinde. wrio thinks he isn’t good enough for you -> self doubt/self degradation. 3.4k
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Somewhere along the line, Wriothesley had messed up.
This wouldn’t have been an issue in and of itself — Wriothesley’s life had been riddled with his mistakes ever since he was a teen, after all, one after the other just piling up— he always took responsibility for his shortcomings, his oversights, his negligence, especially when it came to you.
He was always the first to admit that he wasn’t perfect, and always the first to apologize for it, fully believing that you deserved nothing short of it. But this time, he wasn’t sure exactly what he should apologize for. To him, he had been doing everything right recently.
Things between you two had been peaceful, jovial, full of shared love and happiness… or maybe that had been entirely on his end. Maybe his unrelenting love for you had somehow managed to overshadow your distaste, your unhappiness, your subtle clues hinting towards what the problem was.
Maybe your loving grace had finally run out — you had finally matured and realized that you could so much better than being tied down to a man littered with scars so deep that they allowed you to see what he was really made of; something murky and dark and wholly unfitting to be so close to someone such as yourself.
If that were the case, and you had finally come to your senses and were regretting allowing him to slip that ring onto your finger, were regretting all the hushed declarations of love whispered to each other in the early hours of the morning, regretting all the times you had given yourself to him, allowed him to be the first to touch you and promised him that he’d be the last, then he would let you go.
All Wriothesley ever wanted in life was to see you happy. He had hoped it would be with him, that he’d be able to turn to face you in bed and not have a doubt in his mind that you were and content by his side, the truth reflected in your eyes. But if he couldn’t have that, have you, then… he had lost before and made it, scathed but alive, and he could surely do it again.
He first noticed a change after the gates holding the Primordial waters were broken. The two of you had been in his office - you taking on the arduous task of organizing his books, while he had been nose deep in a pile of paperwork that he had neglected for far too long.
The sirens blaring had sent the both of you into a frozen stupor, you in disbelief and him in horror, but he had broken out of his quickly. He had rounded his desk and taken your arm, quickly leading you down the stairs and out of the door to his office. He had told you to leave, go to safety, go to Neuvillette, and when you had opened your mouth to protest, he had kissed you in earnest and pushed you through the door before shutting it behind you.
After the crisis had been averted, Neuvillette’s seal holding back the waters for just a bit longer, he had sought you out immediately. He found you in your shared home curled up in bed, his pillow clutched to your chest as tears wet your cheeks.
Wriothesley calls your name, his voice raspy and winded, a result of all the running and panicking he had done in his desperation to find you.
Your head snaps up in an instant, puffy eyes moving to him, and he can see the relief in your face; eyes getting a bit of their light back, lips turning up a bit from where they previously fixed in an open sob. “Wrio,” you cry, and then he’s on you, the bed dipping underneath the added weight as he covers you with his body, arms winding around you tight as he holds you, basking in what the waters tried to steal away from him.
The two of you had made love that same night, if you could really call it that. He had pressed himself into your heat, bodies tightly pressed together, and had rocked into you while he whispered his fears against your shoulder and you cried yours into the crook of his neck. Neither of you had come, the high emotions of the day blocking off the path to that blinding bliss, but it hadn’t been any less pleasurable or special.
It had brought Wriothesley closer to you — the act of nearly losing you had solidified that he’d be lost without you. That a part of him would be forever broken beyond repair if you were to no longer be by his side.
With how you’ve been acting as of recent, he guesses the opposite could be said for you. Perhaps the experience had forced you to see your regrets in life; him, and perhaps you were mulling over what to do in your head.
Wriothesley sighs, calloused hands moving to sift through his hair as he tries to fight off the throbbing at his temples. The headaches came back with a vengeance each day, Sigewinne’s remedies doing next to nothing to alleviate him of his misery.
He’s been down in the Fortress of Meropide for days now, not able to stomach your off-standish behavior for too long lest he break down at your feet and beg for forgiveness that he never deserved in the first place. You weren’t cruel to him, he doubts that you could be cruel to anyone, no matter their sin, but you were different.
His appearance didn’t bring forth the blinding smile it once did before, but rather a more muted one, a placid one. You didn’t rush him and drown him with your kisses, but rather pressed a fleeting one to his lips before skirting off somewhere. You didn’t curl into his side at night, your legs tangled together while you told him about your day until you eventually drifted off, but instead kept your back to him while you made sure to stay on your side.
It was the small things that crushed him, threatened to grind him into dust and let the wind blow him away, so instead of seeing his demise unfold before him, he decided to be ignorant and lock himself away underneath the sea.
There’s a heavy knock at his office door, and he wants to delude himself into thinking you’ve come for a visit, the past few weeks having never happened, but you had never been one to knock, instead slipping inside and bounding up the steps with a sweet call of his name on your lips.
“Come in.” He calls, not bothering to straighten out his shirt or smooth his hair down as he listens to the ‘clink’ ‘clink’ of a pair of heels ascending the stairs.
“Wriothesley.”
“Clorinde.” He greets, eyes moving to her in lazy acknowledgment before settling on a chip in his desk. “I thought I told you last time that your recurring presence wasn’t needed. The seal will buy us some time, and the Harbinger still hasn’t returned. It wouldn’t be entirely wrong to assume him as dead.”
Wriothesley held deep respect for Clorinde and her fighting prowess, and the two had even shared a few cups of tea and held casual conversation, but there was only one person that he wanted to see in this moment, and it certainly wasn’t her.
“I’m not here on business.”
“I’m not in the mood to entertain.”
“Oh, I’m not here to make idle talk with you either — I’d get more of a conversation out of a bloated corpse before I got one out of you.” He looks at her, tongue prodding at his cheek. “I’m here on the behalf of your wife.”
He perks up at that, eyes growing alert and heart stuttering in his chest as he begins to rise out of his seat. “Is something wrong? Is she alright? Where is she?” Clorinde lowers herself into the chair on the opposite side of his desk, not a hint of urgency in her face, and Wriothesley wants to reach across the desk and shake her words out of her. “Did something happen?”
“Nothing that requires your current level of panic.” She softly shakes her head, a rare flash of amusement shining in her eyes. “She’s safe, a bit misconstrued, but entirely safe. She’s currently in the Palais Mermonia lamenting to Neuvillette about how her husband no longer loves her.”
“…that’s absurd.” Utterly absurd, completely inconceivable. He didn’t love you? He breathed for you, lived for you. “That’s absurd.”
“Neuvillette told her as much. But she’s convinced that your gaze has wandered to another.”
“What? I don’t— I’ve never looked at anyone else besides her.” The pure truth. You had stolen his undivided attention from the moment he first saw you and had refused to let it loose. He thought about you when he woke up, as he went about his duties, as he sat down to take a break, as he strolled the dark, cold halls of Meropide and wished he had your touch to warm him up, you, always you, only you.
“My frequent appearances in the Fortress of Meropide may have contributed to that notion.” Wriothesley blinks, rusty gears in his head churning as he tries to think. You had been acting strange ever since the gate failed, and Clorinde had been a recurring visitor ever since. She had helped him hold off the water and the damage had been minimal, but the situation still needed to be closely monitored, and he had already had his hands full with trying to get the prison back in the swing of things, so he had left that aspect to her.
He remembers now — your impromptu visits. You’d carve out pieces of your day to come and see him, only to be met with the sight of him in conversation with Clorinde, the both of them completely engaged as they mulled over the situation. Wriothesley would turn his attention to you the moment he noticed you, would greet you as he always did, but maybe… maybe it wasn’t how he always did. Maybe he was a bit shorter, a bit impatient, a bit dismissive, a bit frustrated, a bit cold.
The crisis had been weighing heavy on him since he first found out about it all those years ago, but when it was suddenly surging forward and threatening to take what he loved most, it had threatened to crush him flat, and he had tried to adapt.
Perhaps he was the one that had changed.
He’s out of his office before Clorinde can say another word, a quick glance between them solidifying an agreement that she’d take his place while he was away, and then he’s on his way to the surface, cursing himself as he goes.
He knew he had been the cause of your sudden change, and he had mulled over it in his mind day after day as he tried to figure out why. To think that it was because you thought he could ever be with anyone else after you had given him your love—he was addicted to you and everything you had to offer, to the way you made him feel, to how you treated him so gently when all he had known was cruelty and hardship.
He’s at the Palais Mermonia in record timing, and he leaves a slew of startled Fontanian’s in his wake — the Duke of Meropide racing through the streets to bare himself at his wife’s feet, he’s sure he’s made quite the sight. Hopefully, Gods willing, the two of you can laugh at the newspaper in the morning while you lay in bed, together.
Wriothesley rarely makes trips to Neuvillette’s office, but he’s always been welcomed, and he’s grateful for that when he’s not stopped by one of the many Melusines stationed around.
As he nears the door he hears your voice, and the soft sound washes over him like a gentle wave; refreshing, dizzying, suffocating. The sound of your unmistakable cry is the complete opposite, and he bursts into the room, chest heaving as he looks to where you’re sitting in front of Neuvillette’s desk, your head lowered into your hands while he quietly watches you.
The door loudly knocks against the wall, the commotion causing a hush to fall over the room, and he waits with bated breath as you lift your head and turn to see the cause of the disturbance. Your eyes widen when you see him, lids puffy from your crying, lips parting and hands tightening around the armrests of your chair.
“Wrio,” you call his name, softly, tenderly, and he calls yours doubly so. “What are you doing here?” It feels as if it takes an eternity for him to cross the room, when in reality it probably only took a few seconds at best, and he turns your chair around so you’re facing him, the legs scraping against the floor as he does. “Wriothesley?”
“I’ll leave the two of you alone to speak.” Neuvillette’s exit is swift, the door shutting behind him softly, and Wriothesley moves his hands to cup your face as he lowers himself down to his knees, thumbs wiping away the last few tears. You lean into his touch, your own hands tightly clasped together in your lap, and he catches your eyes, wishing that he could tear himself open and show you the way you’ve etched yourself into his heart.
“Wrio—” He moves his thumb so it’s covering your lips, the digit gently stroking the slightly chapped skin there. He gives you a gentle smile as he looks up at you.
“You’ve been doubting me.” Your eyes widen before you drop them to your lap. “That’s why you’ve been acting so unsure. I thought… I thought you had finally grown tired of me.” That look of bewilderment, much like the one he had when Clorinde first revealed your feelings to him, flashes through your eyes as you look at him. “That you finally realized that I could never give you what you truly deserved; everything.”
“Wriothesley,” you try, and he quietly hushes you, a lump building up in his throat that he has to fight hard to swallow down.
“I didn’t do a good enough job showing you just how much you affect me; mind, body and soul. There’s no other that could over compare, that could ever touch me in the way that you have. You are my beginning and my end, the only woman I ever have, and ever will, love.” His fingers are wet with your tears. “You own me completely — you don’t have to ever worry about my attention drifting elsewhere, and I apologize for ever making you think that it ever could.”
His words are spoken with the utmost sincerity, voice raw and unfiltered, and he prays that his love for you bleeds into his words, prays that you can grasp the full extent of how much he cares for you, adores you, utterly worships you as if you were a Goddess yourself.
Your voice cracks as you call his name, eyes once again filled with tears, and he leans forward to kiss your eyelids. “I love you,” the declaration makes his heart soar. “I love you so much. I’m sorry for thinking—”
His lips push against yours, chapped and bitten raw from days of worrying, and yours are in no better condition. He pulls away just to plant another kiss at the corner of your mouth, breath puffing against your face as he nose rubs against yours, foreheads pressed together and eyes locked onto one another’s.
“You don’t need to apologize for your feelings. Ever.” He kisses you again, this one more frenzied and heated than the last, and the both of you only part when your need for air outweighs the need to stay connected. “Gods, you just don’t know how much I’ve missed you — can I show you?”
His hand glides down to the slope of your neck, over the curve of your shoulder, down your shoulder to gently squeeze at your hand, and settles on your hip, fingers sinking into the flesh through your clothing.
“Show me?” You breathily ask, and he smiles against your skin, eyes muddled and heated as he hums. “Show me what?”
“Show you how this body of mine belongs to you and you only.”
“…show me.”
~
Wriothesley couldn’t help but be a bit selfish first.
The both of your clothes have been discarded somewhere in the office, and he’s laid you back against the blue, plush couch, his hands keeping your thighs up and out of the way as he’s got his mouth latched onto your cunt.
He can’t recall how long he’s been between your legs; kissing, licking, sucking, slurping, but he knows he’s pulled two orgasms out of you, your slick coating his face, even dripping off his chin in long, stretched out lines as he tries to get more.
His hands tighten on you as he wraps his lips around your twitching clit and suckles, hazy eyes blinking open to travel up your body. He starts at the pudge of stomach that’s littered with his marks, then up to your heaving breasts that’re decorated as well, nipples puffy and swollen from the treatment he had given them earlier, further is your lips, spit-shined from his fervent kissing, and finally is your eyes, which gaze down at him as you cry out.
A molten heat swirls in his gut as he drags his tongue down through your folds, letting it seek out your clenching hole before pushing inside with a dizzying squelch, nose nuzzled up against your clit as he fucks his tongue into you.
You squirm and twist in his hold, hands trembling as they push at his head, and Wriothesley detaches himself from your pussy with great difficulty, eyebrows furrowed as he greedily licks at his lips. “Is it too much for you?” You weakly nod, eyes tiredly blinking, and he kisses at the inside of your thigh before letting it rest on his shoulder to free up his hand, pointer and ring finger moving to part your folds while his middle taps at your clit.
“Wrioooo,” you drag out, and he practically coos at the sound, his eyes flickering between your face and your cunt.
“I know, love, I know.” Your hole clenches, the pretty sight of your clear slick pooling nearly hypnotizing him. He allows his thumb to sink into you, a deep, guttural groan being forced out as you wrap around him and suck him in just as greedily as he had done to you.
He places a chaste kiss to your clit, once then twice, and gives it a slow drag of his tongue as he forces himself to move up your body, lips leaving a trail of your slick and his spit until he can lock his lips with yours.
His cock hangs heavy between his thighs, the tan, uncut tip wet with pre-cum. He aches, terribly, and when your hand slithers down between the two of you, soft fingers wrapping around him and guiding him into your heat, he nearly howls in bliss and finishes all over your clit and folds - nearly.
His eyes roll as he sinks in, heart hammering against his chest as shivers wrack up and down his body. He grips onto the back of the couch, the expensive wood splintering under his grip, and grits your name out through clenched teeth. You’re warm, soft, perfect, salvation, and he basks in it, hips pushing forward until he’s nestled deep inside, cock snug inside your welcoming walls.
Once he’s staved off his end for just a bit longer, he adjusts his stance, one foot raising up to brace on the couch while the other stays on the floor. He kisses you, soft and sweet, an unspoken question in his eyes, ever-present, and you answer him with a hushed ‘yes, I do’.
His hips pull back so only the tip remains, and then he’s surging forward, cock punching a choked moan out of your throat, your hands flying to grasp onto his sweaty shoulders. “There you go, hold onto me, baby.” That’s the last intelligible sentence he gets out before he loses himself in the feel of you, mind deteriorating down to nothing but his most primal needs; the need to drive his cock into you until he physically can’t go on any longer, until your cunt is gaped and overflowing with his seed, until the both of you are spent, until you’ve drained him of everything he has to offer, until you know —and Gods he hopes you’ll know— that he’s yours.
Mind, body and soul.
Completely, wholly, and undoubtedly yours.
Forever and always.
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the-writer-arrived · 5 months
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Also PLEASE can I just say that this man would go "oh, you made MY lover, MY sunshine, the love of MY life laugh?! guess what I can do it TOO" and then procedes to throw jokes out of nowhere throughout the whole day and he would NOT stop until he managed to make you laugh more than the guard did.
A lil ooc but also not really bc on the outside Wrio would be very smooth, but if you could take a peek inside his mind, he would be the >:( emoji
I fr think that wrio is the type to say he never gets jealous then proceeds to be jealous at some random guard who made the reader laugh
OOOH i can see it, I can see it 👀
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I feel like he'd get a little pouty and definitely gets more clingy after, too. Like, he'll act like a puppy with how he always wants to hold your hand, how he keeps an arm wrapped around your shoulder or waist. Wrio'll ask for more kisses much more frequently, and he'll ask for them in public too! Kisses your hands, your cheek, strokes you hair and sometimes even carries you around in view of everyone else and will not care who stares at you two.
You don't think much about why he's suddenly clingy, and he doesn't really wanna tell you either because he knows its petty and he feels kinda foolish about it, considering how he's always told you that he doesn't get jealous. But when he pulls you into a kiss in his office, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around you and your foreheads connected even after you part from the kiss, you can't help but giggle and stroke his cheek.
"What's gotten into you?" You ask breathlessly.
Wriothesley sighs, melting into your gentle touch. "Nothing, it's just... kinda dumb. Just want to make sure you're happy with me, is all. That you know I love you."
And that gives you just the slightest of hints to it all— makes you suspect what could have been weighing on his mind for a while.
With the hand on his cheek, you drag his eyes up to meet yours. "Mm. And I hope that you know that I do know you love me. And that I love you just as much. And that I don't want to spend my life with anyone else, yeah?"
He chuckles, that gnawing, terrible feeling receding with each word you speak, until all he feels is the gooey warmth that he gets in his chest whenever you're near him.
"Yeah," Wriothesley says, swallowing. "Yeah, I know."
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