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#yandere wriothesley
daze4all · 3 days
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Sing for Me Sweetly Song Bird Wriothesley x Girlfriend!Reader Smut NSFW
Synopsis: Wriothesley unwraps his present aka his girlfriend for the evening after a long day at work in his office
Tags: NSFW , Smut, Tie play, Powerplay, slight Prisoner x warden play, musician reader!, Childhood friend! Reader, Fluff & Smut, consent, biting, bruising, kissing, third base, orall,, bondage, riding, thigh, mutual groping, possessive, protective, slight soft yandere wrio but mostly fluffy sweet, romabtic sexy. Sugar daddy , Tie bondage , Smut ,Teasing ,Present ,Thigh riding ,Boyfriend girlfriend , Desk sex
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“Give me a music lesson sometime?” Wriothesly teases leaning down tempting you with his sly smirk. His arm lingering on yours a burning contact.
“Hmm I’d have to think about the price….” you trail off as your eyes wander.
You lean back eyes trailing his bright eyes accented by his marks, his strong jawline, the too tight buttons on his chest whilst fiddling with his tie. 
Then pulling Wriothesly forward with his red tie and with a kiss and wink
“Will this do? “ You crooned to Wriothesly dazed expression that turn into toothy smile determined to meet your challenge 
“Oh, or shall I make you sing?” Wriothesly purrs as he inquired leaning close breath ghosting your neck as you lean in begging him to take a taste with chuckle Wrio busies himself kissing and nipping with teeth and tongue your chest and neck to claim you as his own. 
He works his way up until he meets your lips a chaste kiss turning into tongues tangling as lips crashed into a horny tongue kiss for dominance.
“I think I might need a bit more than that” yanking off his tie and leaning in for another kiss.
Your hand splayed on his chest your fingers toying to undo the buttons straining from a too tight vest on his bulky chest. 
Wrio busies himself kissing and nipping with teeth and tongue your chest and neck to claim you as his own. 
As he smoothly lifts you from the couch onto his desk. Sweeping off struck of paperwork and pen.
Admiring your assets and you his before diving in licking and making you keen as he wet tonque explored you skin. Mapping his love to you reaching your pearl and making you sing as promised.
“Heh you taste sweet and sour just like it~” Wriothesly teases. Eyes hungry as he devours you. Wriothesly smirks and licks his lips with toothy grin your desire making his lips sheen.
“Oh shut up you-“  mumble embarrassed as you return  a playful squeeze to his ass that gets him going. He growls into your neck and ruts into you. “Oh wanna play it that way?” he challenges as he perks up his hair resembling dog ear and predatorily caught a scent of arousal. A
A gleam in Wriothesly eyes telling you his switch was flipped to be more rough with you.
 “Afraid, I’ll have to arrest for wandering hands and indecent exposure in front of the law!~” Wriothesley teases admiring your bedraggled form.  
You were half undressed from his ministrations. His shirtless chest and abb pronounced as he clinks the handcuffs from his side onto one of your arms as he  pulls you forward into another bruising kiss.
“Guess you’d have to go to jail too officer~” you chime in catching him by surprise with another kiss as you click the other manacle on his wrist.
You intertwine your fingers with the manacled hand with your own as he pins you p to the desk and he ruts into o
“Hah you want to play it that way?” He teases as he returns the squeeze to your mounds and flicks the nipple idly as he slows his pace.
Your insides throbbing in anticipation as he teases with the tip. “So hungry~ aren’t you my dear?”
“Beg for it” he commands with a growl one cyan eyes flickering with amusement ablaze as he chases pleasure with his hips in your warmth.
Slowly, entering, only to shy away. 
“Ah please more~”
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“Please what?”  He echoes cockily adding in a finger to rub and flick your bud as you leak on his fingers and he chuckles.
“Ah such good girl you’re doing great so warm wet” Wriothesley teases. All the while
murmuring praises in your ear hoarsely.
“ Wrio~  stop teasing me” you cry frustrated beating lightly at his toned chest and twisting his nipple in retaliation to his aroused moan.
“… ah there for me. Squeeze just like that baby”  Wriothesley teases and  moans the plan backfires as he smirks  
“Got to do better that sweetie. I’ve had much worse~” Wriothesley challenges as he gesturesto his scarred chest. In retaliation, you lean down to lick  and suck hickey on his skin.
As you suck on his fingers the heat unbearable until you break not satisfied with just the tip.
“Give me ah your everything” you blush embarrassed as he slams into you.
 He smiles turned on as he brushes back his hair and sweat trailing down his chest to stare hungrily with gleaming cyan eyes to watch you be undone by your own orgasm.
“As you wish don’t regret it~” Wriothesley smiles wickedly. A shark’s grin that caught his prey. as he slams back into you, so you see stars.
Fluidly as if swimming stroke by stroke. A steady wild rhythm as he buries himself in your warmth.
He grabs your ass as revenge for your ass grab and pushes you further into him with a squelch and squeak of surprise. 
 You embrace his broad back scratching his shoulders with your nails. A delicious mix of “you fell so goood~ pleasure and pain as he is the one unwinding your and making you lose control in your pleasure.
Then switch to holding onto his buns in turn as he groans and smirks at you. Groaning in pleasure your  “ahh if only I could be buried in you forever dear~”
Quickly, he hardens and spills inside your tight warm walls.
Your sounds devolving into a moan of pleasure by his hips undulating rhyme as he takes you over and over. 
A desire he first had when he had first seen you under the stage lights and singing in the streets. 
Until you both reach your satisfied high and settle for cuddling in the blankets with warm tea on the clean coach.
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-After glow-
“Always nice to see you ~ “ you hum happily in his arm snuggling into his bear hug.
“Mhmm stay here for bit “ Wriothesley he comment with peck on the check after you cleaned up .You blushing from the proximity as he engulfs you in a bear hug. 
“Aww don’t want to stay caged up in my arms? “he teases. Catching up reader in bear hug. His rising erection saying hi.
“You weren’t complaining when I was hugging you earlier” Wrio shouts back with an eyebrow waggle that has you blushing and giggling. 
“You horn dog!”
You gasp in mock horror as you throw a couch pillow and devolve into another pillow fight. That leads to another round with close proximity and attraction still thick in the air from the previous activities. 
------
for the friend who's a wrio fan hopefully did this smut justice sweet but Spicy~
Imagine: Wriothesley &  his significant other get frisky with handcuffs but forget the key…to unlock them afterwards lol . His are custom made after all lol….
Extra~ Side Shot After Care Funny Thought: Those cuffs don’t have key lol
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Based on the voice line:  
Did you know most handcuffs can be unlocked with the same master key?
Except mine of course. They’re Different~ - Wriothesley
Side Shot After Care Funny Thought: Those cuffs don’t have key lol
Drowsily you wake to the next day. 
There’s a steaming cup of tea on the tabletop. 
“I see you have woken up to the world “ Wriothesley greets you with a kiss to your cheek
“Oh ,and what is with this welcome?” You ask with raised eyebrow jangling the handcuffs on your wrist still on from last nights romp.
“Opp must have forgot those … “ Wriothesley laughs and fiddles to unlatch the handcuffs.
The jingling continues for long time as silence reigns and Wriothesley begin to chuckle nervously a sheepish grin on his face.
“ So, about the handcuffs… those are custom made. SOOO I don’t have the key on me right now?”
“WRIO!”
“Till death do us part?”
“I’m going to break them.”
“Wait no! I had them made can we at least get another use out of-ow”
“You deserve that…”
“Is that a maybe?”
Side note: what if Wriothelsey custom handcuffs were only cosmetic so he never had a key made for them lol….
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yandere-daydreams · 1 month
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file #4: the body mod fic.
part of the FREAK SHIT MARCH evidence packet.
pairing: yandere!wriothesley x reader (genshin).
length: 3.1k.
warnings: non/con touching + groping, nonconsensual piecing, dubiously consensual tattoos, permanent body modification, intimidation, needles, obsessive behavior, and unbalanced power dynamics.
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“Just one?”
The question had been hushed, meek, directed more towards your lap than the man sitting across from you. The warden – Wriothesley, you chided yourself, biting the inside of your cheek and attempting to remember what he’d asked you to call him, Wriothesley – broke into a wry smile, but nodded, leaning back in his armchair. “Just one,” he reassured. “And you’ll taken care of until your release date.”
You didn’t respond, but he must’ve seen the way you paled at the suggestion. “Having second thoughts?”
“No, it’s just—” You grit your teeth. Your eyes flitted up momentarily, but fell back to your legs just as quickly. “I… I’ve never really liked needles, I guess.”
You could see his eyes light up, his grin broadening as he tried to stifle his laughter. You scowled, but couldn’t blame him. He was used to dealing with hardened criminals, the scum of Teyvat, thieves and spies and murderers, and here you were – on the verge of fainting because he asked you to get a tattoo. “I promise, you don’t have anything to worry about.” At least he was trying to sound comforting, even if it was clearly a half-hearted effort. “I’ll make sure you’re in good hands.”
And he had, in a way.
You just wished he would’ve mentioned that those hands would be his own.
Calloused fingertips dug into your bicep as a scarred palm pressed into your skin, keeping one of your arms loosely secured against the mattress of the cot while the other was pinned between the bedframe and his chest (the placement unintentional, or so you hoped). You’d been shaking when he brought out that terrible machine – a vial of dark ink trapped inside of a cage of copper and steel; a single, silver needle protruding out of one end and a leather grip wrapped around the other – but it’d only taken an hour for fear to fade into boredom, another for boredom to drag on into a rotting, discolored sort of exhaustion. For as much as you’d been dreading it, there was more pressure than pain. It was repetitive, if anything – a monotonous pierce, stab, pierce, stab that you could only try your best not to focus on. You could already feel an ache settling below the skin of your shoulder, already knew that you wouldn’t be able to lift your arm for days, but you tried not to—
His needle stabbed into the thin skin over your shoulder blade, and you couldn’t stop yourself – letting out a low hiss as you flinched into the cot’s thin mattress. You expected Wriothesley to laugh, to drag a damp cloth over the affected area and mutter something like ‘bear with me’ or ‘my bad, love, my bad’ like he had a dozen times before, but instead, there was a muffled click as he switched off his awful machine, a dull clatter as he dropped it onto a bedside table already crowded with bottles of disinfectant and the nurse’s bizarre tools. “We’ll stop here. It’ll take another session, but I think you’ve been through enough for one day. For a virgin, especially.”
You were only half-listening; the phantom of his machine still buzzing in your ears. “Are you sure?” You asked, trying to hide how desperate you were not to spend another night in the empty infirmary with a man you barely knew. “It’s not that bad, I can go for another—”
“I’m sure. Sit up, I’ll let you have a look.”
You pursed your lips, but didn’t protest. You could see how Wriothesley had gotten into such an authoritative position. The way he spoke, his constant undertone of stern stability – it was hard to so much as imagine talking back to him, let alone breaking one of the rules that’d been meticulously and painstakingly drilled into you when you’d arrived at the Fortress of Meropide a little under a week ago. Still, you’d been terrified – too scared to so much as speak to another prisoner for the first two days. You weren’t dangerous. You couldn’t hold your own in a fight, or protect yourself if someone else, someone stronger decided they had a problem with you. You could barely even call yourself a criminal, but apparently, the Iudex hadn’t agreed. You’d been on your way to the fortress before he could finish reading out your sentence, and now, you were trapped in the darkest, deepest place in all of Fontaine, alone and so, so painfully vulnerable. If it hadn’t been for Wriothesley, you probably would’ve requested to forgo your imprisonment entirely and be sent straight to the gallows.
A hand on your shoulder, a softened lull to his voice. “You can sit up, can’t you? I’ll have to call Sigewinne, if you’re in that much pain.”
“Right, I— uh, sorry,” You stammered as you shook your head and pushed yourself up, careful to keep the thick, overly starched cot sheet pressed to your chest. The infirmary was empty, the door locked and sealed, and while Wriothesley hadn’t seemed to think much of ordering you to take off your shirt and lay face-down, you couldn’t bring yourself to brush off the stark, damp chill that came with any amount of exposure in the fortress so easily. You guessed that, after enough time, you’d get used to it. You guessed that, when you did, the thought of not being so cold so constantly wouldn’t make you feel so sick. “I…  I think I’m still getting used to this,” you went on, with a strained smile. “Still a little out of it, I guess.”
“That’s alright, love. We all take a few months to find a way to cope.” When you glanced over your shoulder, there was already a mirror in his hand – a compact, small enough to fit in his palm. You had to crane your neck to see it, but Wriothesley knew how to strike the right angle, and soon enough, the sprawling, spiraling pattern stretching from the lower curve of your shoulder blade to the ball of your shoulder came into view. It took you a moment to make out the pattern, but relief accompanied the delayed realization. Lumidouce bells, all blossoming and linked together by a single vine. He’d finished the linework, and there was a smattering of color in the bottom corner – only, oh, he’d gotten the shade wrong. Rather than deep violet, he’d used a light blue, more similar to ice than the water nearly everything in Fontaine stole its palette from. Judging by his expression, though, all beaming pride and low-brewing mirth, he hadn’t caught the mistake. “What do you think? Don’t keep me in suspense, now.”
“It’s… nice,” you said, the sentiment sincere despite your hesitance. And then, laughing, “I was—Well, it feels a little silly now, but I was terrified you’d leave me with, I don’t know, a sea monster or a giant wolf or something.”
“Maybe next time. Not a wolf, though - you don’t strike me as that vicious.” You bit your tongue, forcing yourself not to tell him there wouldn’t be a next time and opting to focus on the soreness starting to knot in your shoulder, instead. You swung your legs over the side of the cot, moving towards where you’d left your shirt draped over an unopened crate, but Wriothesley caught your wrist, tugging you gently back onto the thin mattress. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his playfulness suddenly more irritating than it had been, a few second ago. “I don’t think we’re finished, yet.”
Not for the first time, your smile wavered. “I… I thought we only agreed to one, sir.”
“Of course.” He squeezed your wrist teasingly. “One of each.”
Something heavy and spiked dropped into the pit of your stomach. This time, you couldn’t help the way your expression dropped. “Sir, that’s really not what I—”
“It’ll be worse the longer you put it off.” You weren’t dangerous. You weren’t a criminal. You weren’t strong, but Wriothesley was. Before you could so much as push yourself to your feet, his arm was around your waist and he was perched on the edge of the cot, one leg tucked underneath him to make more room for your body, soon pulled between his thighs. The back of your shoulder screamed where it pressed into his chest, but you managed to swallow the little, pitiful sound threatening to bubble past your lips and clung to your sheet – suddenly so much thinner than it’d seemed, seconds prior. If Wriothesley noticed your apparent panic, the distress of his prisoners was an inconvenience he was willing to endure. Only half-consciously, you tried to shove yourself away from him, but his muscle-bound arm was snaked around your waist before you could gain any distance, keeping you flush against his broad chest. He was so much bigger than you’d realized, when he was on the other side of that desk, when he was engraving something intrusive and permanent into the very fabric of your being. This had been a bad idea. Trusting anyone here had been a bad idea. You should never have—
Your elbow slammed into his diaphragm, and Wriothesley let out a slow grunt, his fingers burrowing into the plush of your side. “Easy now, love,” he half-muttered, half-breathed, bowing his head to speak into the side of your throat. “We had a deal, remember? Can you tell me what it was?”
“You—you said I wouldn’t get hurt if—” You forced yourself to stop, to swallow, to breathe. “But, I only agreed to get one tattoo, and you—”
“I said I’d take care of you. Get you a nice, cushy job with the fortress administrator, keep you out of any over-crowded bunks, make sure the other prisoners don’t cause you any trouble – that kind of thing. I’m really not supposed to play favorites, so even doing that much is going to take more than a little discretion on my part.”
“But, you offered to—”
“I said I’d take care of you, and I’m going to.” You could see him fishing something off of the bedside table with his free hand, but you forced yourself not to look, not to make the ever-growing pit in your stomach feel that much more hollow. “You’ve heard a few stories about what it’s like in the underworld, right? I try to keep all of you nice n’ safe, but a few are bound to fall through the cracks. Rehabilitation can only do so much and—well, I’m sure you know all about how bloodthirsty desperation can make someone.” There was a pause, an ebbing lull to the tenderness in his voice. “I’m just trying to keep you safe, sweetheart. Are you going to help me get a little practice in, while I do that?”
Practice. If he wanted practice, you were sure there were another hundred prisoners who’d willingly lay down and let him carve a hole through whatever he wanted to. Still, you did your best to calm yourself down, to stop thrashing, to shut your eyes and try to ignore the large, pulsing thing you could feel pressing into your ass. You didn’t nod, didn’t give him permission, but when his fist balled around the infirmary sheet and tugged it away from you, the only resistance you managed to scrape up was a slight frown and a wary glance in his direction. “You’re already in for a rough night,” he explained, as if that was any excuse. “Might as well get the hardest one out of the way first, right?”
You refused to let yourself linger on the implication that this wasn’t going to be the last, too.
You clenched your eyes shut as his large hand pawed at the right side of your chest, kneading into the softened flesh with an almost delicate sort of care. “It’s easier after a little stimulation,” he murmured, as if that meant he had to spend so long circling your nipple with a calloused thumb, occasionally swiping over the sensitive bud in a way that made your thighs twitch and your face burn. When your nipple was stiff and pebbled, he pulled away, but it was a momentary reprieve – torn away from you with a splash of freezing disinfectant. It dripped down your chest and filled the stagnant air with a thick, chemical haze as Wriothesley caught your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching tightly. You felt the long, curved tip of his piercing needle against your skin, and braced yourself for the pain. Wriothesley wasn’t kind enough not to drag it out, though. “Wanna count me down?”
You shook your head, pushing yourself that much closer to his chest, desperate for any kind of stability. You’d hoped that Wriothesley would take your clear obstinance as a sign not to drag it out any longer, but he seemed to savor it – the agony of the wait, the way the dread seemed to multiply tenfold every time you forced yourself to suck in a ragged inhale. Seconds seemed to pass like frozen honey, only just beginning to drip. You’d started to think he wouldn’t do it, that he’d just laugh and admit this was all part of some bizarre, invasive hazing ritual when Wriothesley let out an airy chuckle and plunged his needle into you.
Oh, archons.
You really thought the tattoo would’ve been worse.
It was faster, at least; a bright shock of pain followed immediately by a steady, throbbing sort of ache that seemed to drown out every other sensation and fill your mind with a buzzing, numbing static. You didn’t realize your eyes had shot open on reflex until tears blurred your vision, until you glanced down just in time to watch as he dragged the needle through and replaced it with a small, silver stud – a barbell, as wrong as it felt to think of yourself having something so vulgar attached to you. You were crying unabashedly by the time he finished, pain and humiliation dripping down your cheeks in hot, wet streams, but Wriothesley’s shallow pool of sympathy must’ve run dry. “Ah, don’t make that face, sweetheart – we’re only halfway done.” You felt him panting into the crook of your neck as his hand found the other side of your chest. The last threads of his veil of composure frayed and broke apart as he groped unabashedly at your chest, toying with your nipple as your sobs echoed off of the clinic walls. You felt something thick and hot and wet crash against your collarbone and drip down the curve of your chest, and forced yourself to believe it was only disinfectant. That there was nothing it could’ve been except disinfectant.
Wriothesley’s hips rocked against your ass, the rigid outline of his cock pressing into you, incinerating any lingering delusions you might’ve had of helpful prison wardens exchanging one favor for another. Five fingers bit into the plush of your chest as he brought his needle to your unmutilated nipple, his hand surprisingly steady despite the airy, drawling moans he was pouring into your throat. “P-please don’t,” you managed, fighting to speak above the pathetic cries and choking fear doing their best to strangle out your voice. “Please, I can’t—I don’t want to—”
But, Wriothesley wasn’t listening. It wasn’t a spark, this time, but a red-hot knife, stabbed deep into your chest and twisted as far as it could go. You heard Wriothesley let out a rough groan, felt something warm and damp against your ass, and then, you were gone.
~
You startled awake hours later; bolting upright as you heaved in jolting, uneven inhales. Immediately, pain knocked you out of your panicked daze – sharp and piercing, imbedded into the back of your shoulder and either side of your chest, strong enough to remind you to measure out your breathing and calm down before you blindly threw yourself back into a seething pit of violent criminals. It took you a second to realize that you weren’t on an undersized infirmary cot, anymore, and another to piece together where he’d taken you – a bedroom nearly triple the size of your bunk. The warden’s chambers, you figured, as you scanned over the limited decoration and piles of dust-coated paperwork stacked onto every possible surface. Wriothesley’s room.
Wriothesley’s bed, at that. A cold chill ran down your spine as you realized that he’d taken the time to strip you out of your ill-fitting coveralls and redress you in a shirt sizes too big to be one of yours – the bleached, threadbare material a stark contrast to the satin sheets draped over your legs. You started to push them away and move towards the edge of the mattress, but froze as a door on the far side of the room creaked open – Wriothesley slipping inside and letting the door shut behind him. He moved away from it quickly, but as it closed, you could’ve sworn you heard the muffled, deafening click of a lock sliding into place and cutting you off from the rest of the world – or, the rest of the underworld, rather. As if there was anyone out there who would bother to save you, even if they could try.
“There’s my sleeping beauty.” He grinned as he lowered himself on the side of the bed, positioning himself closer to you than he absolutely had to. He reached out, moving to cup your face, but quickly let his hand fall back to his side when you flinched away. His smile dimmed, but didn’t fall away. “Get a chance to see the improvements, yet?”
After a second of hesitation, you shook your head, and he nodded to your chest - the gesture more of an order than a suggestion. Reluctantly, you pinched your collar between two fingers and peeled away from your skin. Through the narrow sliver, you could see his handiwork: a pair of twin rings hanging from either nipple, connected by a thin, lax, silver chain – so light, you could barely feel it brushing your diaphragm as the air caught in your chest.
You dropped the collar before you could give in to the nausea beginning to coil in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t bear to look at Wriothesley, so you kept your eyes on the sheets, kneading at the fabric half-consciously as you struggled to find your voice. “That wasn’t what we agreed to,” you muttered, mostly under your breath. “Can I go back to my bunk, now?”
His smile took on an almost apologetic note. You tried again. “Am I... Am I going to be able to leave?”
This time, when he reached out, flinching away wasn’t enough to stop him – his hand catching your chin and drawing you that much closer to him. You tried to lurch away, but it was too late, his lips were already crashing into yours, his tongue already slipping past your teeth and raking over your own. While your eyes widened in shock, his went half-lidded, closing just a second too late. Abruptly, it occurred to you that you’d never really noticed the color of his eyes – a pale, faded blue. The color of the half-formed flowers currently stretching across your back.
Wriothesley’s hand slipped to the nape of your neck. You let your eyes fall shut, and did your best not to think at all.
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pinkie-pop · 4 months
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"I Must Confess, I Am Not What I Seem."
Featuring: Gender-Neutral reader, Furina, Isekaied!Reader, SAGAU, Imposter AU, Golden Blood AU
Word Count: 2.4k
Synopsis: There is a thin line that separates lies from truth, falsehoods from facts. You are a tightrope walker, it would seem.
Includes: Spoilers for 4.2, injury, religious themes
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
“I am a vast ocean confined into the shape of a small and shallow puddle. I am more than you could ever know, yet less than what I am truly meant to be. Does this not answer your question?” You say, golden ichor staining your white robes.
“I…I’m afraid it does not, Your Most Honorable Righteousness,” Clorinde looks down, uncharacteristically nervous. The weight of your title sits heavily upon her tongue—a Fontainion nickname someone coined eons ago.
“Then, allow me to state this in a way you can understand,” you say, now addressing not only her but the crowd around you—everyone gathered in the dueling grounds to watch your fight, now watching with bated breath upon this new development. “I bleed because I am human. Gold because I am a God. I am paradox itself—a godly soul contained in a human vessel. Are you starting to understand now?” Whispers begin to fill the street as everyone takes in what you just said. ‘The Creator has descended to Teyvat in a human body!’ They say. ‘Is such a thing even possible?’ They ask. ‘Of course,’ comes the response. ‘It’s happening right in front of us!’ ‘What’s going to happen to Fontaine?’ says a pragmatic one. ‘Our Champion Duelist nearly killed Them! We called Them an imposter!’ You listen in on the conversations, pleased with the way the rumors spin themselves. Now that the spark has been made, the fire will come next. They’ll weave together their own tales and explanations from your words; the rumors will exaggerate and grow until you no longer need to say a word. They will answer their own questions. Your work here is done.
Truth be told, you’re bluffing about all of this. When you first came to Fontaine, you had no idea what all the talk of being a divine imposter was about. You went along with it, believing yourself to be dreaming, not caring where the tides took you. You didn’t choose to duel for your honor because you knew your blood was golden (Of course not. How could you have known?), you only wanted this dream to be over. 
The pain gave it away. This was all too real. You weren’t dreaming. You had been in real danger. The blade that pierced your chest could have gone straight into your heart, had you not leaped back in reflex. The thought makes you sick, but you do not show it. No, you have a role to play. You are no god, but if it means you won’t be hunted down or hanged for blasphemy, you are more than willing to pretend.
You cautiously raise a hand to your wound. It stings. You look down at your hand, coated in yellow. Dizziness overtakes you, and you fall to the ground.
But you do not hit the ground. Someone catches you.
And all fades to black.
•~•~•~•~•~•
When you come to, you spot familiar faces standing by your bedside. Clorinde, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Sigewinne, and Furina, too. The four pillars of Fontaine’s political system are all gathered by your bedside. The room you're in is luxurious, colored in a white and (you suspect, real) gold palette. The size and luxury of the room is imposing, reminiscent of a cathedral. You suppose this ‘Creator’ must be a big deal. You try to move, but searing pain shoots up from your wound. Right, you had already forgotten.
“Your Holiness, please be careful!” Says Sigewinne. “You don’t want to pop your stitches, do you? I'll help you sit up.”
“Many eyes watch my movements and recovery. Can I take this to mean you all have something to say?” You think you're getting the hang of talking like someone divine. You can only hope the ones around you buy it.
Neuvillette speaks first. “I am sorry to disturb you during what should be a peaceful rest, but we have some questions for you.” 
“Speak for yourself,” says Wriothesley. “I'm only here to watch over Siegewinne.”
“Oh? Is that so? I had just assumed you were just as curious about Them as the rest of us. My mistake,” says Clorinde, voice dripping with sarcasm. Wriothesley scoffs but doesn't say anything.
“You spoke of questions,” you say, redirecting the conversation. “Yet all I hear is idle chatter.” Wriothesley and Clorinde both look away. Neuvillette clears his throat, but Furina speaks first. 
“Is there…a reason you have decided to descend?” She asks, a hint of anxiety in her voice and her face painted with worry. You know what she's thinking without her even having to say anything. She's worried about the prophecy. You may as well ease her concerns.
“Must I have a reason to visit my own creations? I simply wished to see how things have changed.” Furina visibly relaxes, then, seeming to catch herself, straightens immediately. “Now that you have asked something of myself, I, too, have a query with which to exchange. Where are we?”
“Le Berceau Du Créateur—Fontaine’s largest temple and the place most appropriate for someone of your status,” says Neuvillette. You nod pensively, pretending you've heard of it.
“This is our grandest room, made specifically in the case that you were ever to visit Fontaine. I do hope it meets your preferences and standards.”
“Luxury means little to me, but this room has been made with care and dedication. That is enough.” Neuvillette relaxes ever so slightly.
Rather suddenly, Clorinde kneels in front of you. “Please, your Eminence, I cannot take it any longer. Punish me,” she says. You look at her with an expression you hope mimics apathy. Truthfully, a part of you does wish to punish her, to get some sort of sick satisfaction out of her misery, but you refrain from showing such intentions. You will not punish her. You will be a gracious and forgiving god. You will earn their respect and gratitude.
“I will do no such thing. If there is nothing else, I'd like to be alone now. I'm sure you understand,” you say, making eye contact with Clorinde. Everyone leaves, though Clorinde lingers the longest, a silent apology on her lips as she walks out the door.
•~•~•~•~•~•
You heal remarkably fast. It takes no more than a week for your injury to heal completely. Not even a scar remains. By now, word of your arrival has already spread across Tevyat, and countless letters and requests for visitation follow. You allow only the most important of guests into your temple, that is, only the “acolytes” (that is, playable characters). Truthfully, you dread each appointment. Pretending to be wise beyond your years, to ooze divinity, and to fool both mortals and Gods alike is…a lot of work, to say the least. But you have to keep up appearances. You don't want to get hurt again.
Today you have a meeting with The Seven. You can only hope that things go smoothly. 
Not much happened during the meeting, but you did ask Furina to stay a while longer. The two of you proceed to the drawing room, where tea and snacks have already been served. 
“You wanted to speak to me, Your Righteousness?” Furina asks, her cake and tea untouched, likely waiting for you to eat first. You pick up your teacup with a practiced elegance and take a sip. Furina is quick to follow your lead. Her nervous scramble to mirror your movements brings a small smile to your face. 
“Furina,” you say, putting the teacup down. She straightens in her seat, hanging off your every word.
“Yes, Your Holiness,” she says, sitting on the edge of her seat.
“Soon, you will have a day where everything seems to go wrong. It will feel like everything you’ve built up will have fallen, broken, down at your feet. Take heart, for this is not the ending you fear. Your suffering has not been for naught. When the time comes for you to sit crying on your throne, please remember these words. The prophecy will not come to pass.”
•~•~•~•~•~•
“Hey, did you hear? Everyone’s been saying that The Creator has a favorite Acolyte!”
“They do? But I thought They were impartial.”
“It seems even the Gods play favorites…” 
“It’s Focalors!”
“Who’s the lucky person?”
“Seriously? I suppose They have been staying in Fontaine a lot, but wasn’t it Fontaine that falsely charged Them in the first place?”
“I know, right? I mean, I like Lady Furina as much as the next guy but, she isn’t the most…” 
“Shh! Hey, don’t finish that thought! You don’t want to get charged with blasphemy, do you? You can’t us insult Their favorite like that!”
“So? Do you think she’ll be made a consort?”
“Hey! What did I just say? We’re not talking about this anymore. I’m not going to get beheaded for gossip.”
“They have been meeting with her more often than anyone else… I wouldn’t be surprised if there was something between them…”
•~•~•~•~•~•
“Your Holiness, may I ask why you have me visit you so often?” Furina fiddles with her hands, staring down at her lap. You look at her curiously before answering.
“I feel at ease when I am with you,” comes your reply. “We have more in common than you think.”
“We have something in common?” Asks Furina, bewildered. “What is it?” You smile at her.
“Patience, Furina. All in due time.”
•~•~•~•~•~•
“Hey, did you hear? Have you heard the news? Lady Furina is a human!”
“I hear she was placed under a curse.”
“A human?! But she’s been alive for five hundred years!”
“But why would she pretend to be a god?”
“Beats me.”
“Of course not. Why would They play favorites with her if They knew she was human?”
“What about The Creator? Do you think They knew?”
“But how could They not have known? They are the God above Gods, after all.”
“I have no idea.”
“Do you think They knew?”
•~•~•~•~•~•
“So this is what you meant,” Furina says, nibbling on a cake you had imported from Liyue. “When you said everything would work out, I mean.”
“Yes,” you reply, sipping from your teacup.
“Yes,” you say again. “It must have been so hard for you. I can only imagine the loneliness and suffering you’ve had to endure these past hundreds of years.” Furina looks to be on the verge of tears. You’ve wanted to say this to her for a long time. You allow her to lean into you as she releases five centuries worth of tears. When she finally stops, the front of your shirt is thoroughly soaked. You can't find it in yourself to mind. 
“You knew this whole time, didn’t you?”
“I must apologize for showing you something so unsightly,” she says, seemingly embarrassed. 
You tell her you don't mind, though it seems to do little to ease her worries. 
“Your Reverence, may I ask…why me?” You raise an eyebrow, prompting her to continue. “I mean, I’m nobody special. Not anymore, anyway. I’m not an Archon, I’ve quit the stage, I’m not even immortal…Why do you choose to waste your time with someone like me?”
“What? N-no, I–”
“Are you questioning my judgement?”
“I was joking, you know.”
“O-oh, I see—I mean, yes, of course you were! I was merely playing along, eheh…” 
“Furina,” you say, placing your teacup in its saucer as Furina hastens to do the same. “Do you remember what I said to you the last time we met?”
“Just as I said back then, we have more in common than you may realize.”
“Of course, you said that you felt at ease when you were with me, but I still don’t understand why…”
“We have something in common? But what could it—No, you don’t mean…?”
“I-I can’t. It can’t possibly be true, I must have lost my mind for a moment.”
“Say it.”
“Forgive me, please. I don’t know what came over me, I-I—”
“Say it.”
“Say it.” Furina pauses, seeming to mull over her options. Her movements are skittish, her voice full of anxiety as she paces back and forth, muttering words of apology and justifications.
“You’re not…our God?” Her voice is little more than a whisper. You nod at her, and she collapses onto the couch. “B-but your blood! What about your blood?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know the answer to that, either. It used to be red, but it changed once I came to this world. I don’t know how or why.” Furina remains silent, seeming to mull over your words even as the world around her collapses. 
“What about the vessels? The Traveler? You controlled them, didn't you? You controlled me!”
“That was my doing, but not my power."
“I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I.” You shrug, taking your fork to your slice of cake.
“Fake deep,” you say. “Most of what comes out of my mouth is total BS, but people nod along and act like it’s something profound because they believe I am a God.” 
“What about your speech? All the cryptic wording and allegories?”
“Wisdom isn’t something you can just fake. The people aren’t stupid, they know when they’re being fed what isn’t food.”
“And yet, here we are.” 
“And yet, they didn’t.”
“You can’t not be our God, surely the Archons would have noticed if–” Furina stands up, pacing back and fourth like a caged animal.
“But, but—!”
“Of course, you’re human! But you’re still our God! Did what you said about oceans and puddles really mean nothing at all?! Everyone said you’re an incarnation of The Creator. How can that be lies? You even said that you had lost all memories of Godhood; how can you know that it’s not true?” She raises some good points, but you know it’s nothing more than the ramblings of the desperate.You really hadn’t expected her to take it so hard. Perhaps you overestimated her. Furina throws herself back onto the couch and then sighs. She moves to sit upright and smooth out the creases in her outfit. “I suppose you would know more about this situation than I would, and I must apologize for my…outburst. You must understand, this is quite a shock to me.” You nod at her. 
“I’m sorry, Furina. But I really am human, just like you.”
“But still,” she says. “How can you be so sure?”
“Furina,” you say hesitantly, looking at her as if you were about to say something unpleasant. “The Creator…doesn't exist.”
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taintedbenevolence · 6 months
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YAN! WRIOTHESLEY X FEM! READER
m i n o r s d o n o t i n t e r a c t !
" 𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒. "
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— 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — 
do not interact/read if the following triggers you! MENTIONS OF / IMPLIED STALKING, IMPLIED MURDER, MENTIONS OF BLOOD, USE OF APHRODISIACS, ODAXELAGNIA, NON-CONSENSUAL DISPLAY OF AFFECTION, IMPLIED MASTURBATION, UNPROTECTED SEX, BREEDING KINK, ORAL SEX [RECEIVING], AND FINGERING IMPLIED / DESCRIBED.
OVERPROTECTIVE AND TOXIC / OBSESSIVE / POSSESSIVE BEHAVIOR.
        •,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,• You should've known better than to blindly follow an order to enter Wriothesley's office that day.
Your morning had started off rather normal, with the exception of Sigewinne visiting you to leave you a letter written by none other than the Duke. At first, you thought it was just a notice for you, one related to business matters, or one about ordeals within the Fortress.
The letter resulted to be nothing at all what you expected it to be.
It was merely a note. "Please pass by my quarters when you have time today. Preferably during evening hours. I'd like to have a chat with you." That was it. Nothing more, nothing less. Simple, direct, and straight to the point. Just like the man himself.
The little Melusine who handed you the letter wore a bright yet small smile on her face as she stood up straight. "It seems you've caught the eye of His Grace," she says, almost teasingly, though you shook your head. "I wouldn't go as far as to say I've caught the attention of someone like him," you reply with a wry smile, though a part of you silently wishes it were otherwise.
But you had caught his eye, and from far early on too. The Lord of the Fortress of Meropide rarely traveled to the surface. It wasn't every once in a million years, naturally, but, it wasn't a common sight. Most cases, he was there strictly on business and other important matters rather than on vacation.
That, however, changed the moment he saw you. You were breathtaking, and better yet, you were not intimidated by his presence alone. Most people would keep their distance, look away, unable to meet his gaze, and lack the ability to keep their composure around him. But you?
You were perfectly fine being near him, wearing small smiles that gave him absolute butterflies, as much as he hated to admit. You were honest and though maybe partly reserved, still willing to share a proper chat when he approached you. He liked that. Sigewinne noticed.
And he wasn't sure whether he liked the little Melusine nosing around whenever he met you, because for all he knew, she could start getting ideas, and that... wouldn't have been ideal, put it lightly.
Nevertheless, it's easy to say that his visits to the surface became more frequent. He made your acquaintance and quickly enough became friends with you. It was smooth riding so far, and he was finding that the situation was going well for him.
Occasionally, the two of you would talk over a cup of tea and you'd chat about how things had been in your lives, whether maybe you'd lost a pendant you liked, or how there was a coffee you tried somewhere that was rather bitter, or how he had less work than usual, so he decided to spare some time to relax on the surface.
It was fine.
That is until he found out you had fallen in love the past days. But oh no, you were not in love with him. You were in love with someone else. That was the issue. So he began to inquire. How did this person act? How did you meet them? Do you think they'd make a great partner?
Simple questions just to see what was your view of them. 
Don't get him wrong — he's glad that you've found someone you love. He's just upset that the person you've fallen for isn't him. So he then decides to find the person for whom you fell for. It doesn't take long for him to find them, and it's not much effort to convince them that he's only visiting on behalf of business matters.
He returns every so often back to the surface to  meet with you and to keep eyes on your interest, making sure there are no "unwanted" advances between the two of you, and when he's at the Fortress, he simply has to hope that nothing occurs. Having someone work for this type of thing would be rather inefficient and would raise unnecessary suspicions.
Sure, people don't really need to understand what the Duke's motives are, but that doesn't refrain them from filing a report to the Chief Justice about unusual behavior. The two are acquainted, after all, and Neuvillette is more than adept at reading the behavior of humans.
So with that in mind, he decided it was best to do things himself. After all, if you want a job done right, you have to do it yourself. One day, whilst you conversed with Wriothesley, you spoke of how you planned to finally confess. He was immediately interested, and he, of course, listened, even if deep in his mind the person whom you treasured was a pool of blood.
If your confession proved to be successful, he'd have to find a way to slowly seed problems into the relationship. He isn't fond of what he'd have to do, but unfortunately enough, the small feeling of jealousy that has wrapped itself around his heart is eating away at him. 
He'd find the little details that bring you and your significant other apart and slowly begin to rip those traits up to the surface. He'd at times advise you that there were things you should watch out for, given this would be your first time in a relationship (or he'd assume so), and most likely, he'll find a way to tear down the relationship bit by bit and make it seem like it wasn't even his fault. It will appear as if it was just that you were mistaken, that this relationship wouldn't really work out.
That being said, if your confession resulted in a rejection, he'd comfort you. He knows how much it'd hurt having your feelings being rejected like that, and he especially doesn't want you crying for someone else who isn't deserving of causing your sorrow. He wouldn't want you tearing up to the one who had the audacity of even making you cry. He'd probably be mad at the person, but not enough to walk back at them and talk to them about it, as much as he'd wish to rip them into two. He exercises self-control, and somehow manages to control himself.
Depending how the person reacted to your confession, would Wriothesley's anger be gauged. Unfortunately enough for you, and much to Wriothesley's pleasure, you were rejected. Now, don't get him wrong; he wants you to have a successful relationship, but he also doesn't want you being with someone that doesn't deserve you.
So the moment that you come to him, your expression more solemn and down than usual, he already knows what's happened. He invites you over to the Fortress inside to cheer you up and for a change in atmosphere. While taking you to a place meant for imprisonment isn't exactly one's definition of "fun," you were rather curious to see what was the place this man called home.
To your surprise, it was well kept, and didn't look like it was rotting as you thought it would be. He also showed you around his quarters, to let you know where he'd be, and of course he introduced you to Sigewinne, who was more than happy to meet you.
•,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,•
[| "Y/N, this is Sigewinne, our head nurse."[| "Oh, is this the person you've been rambling on about lately, Your Grace?"[| "... Sigewinne."
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You could've sworn that you saw a small smirk on the Melusine's face because she knew that His Grace was head over heels for you. Of course, you didn't know that, but... she did. You were later on dismissed, and for the next weeks, you stayed at the Fortress, given you met several new people in there and wished to get to know them better.
Wriothesley being the busy man he is, doesn't always have time to get out of his quarters, but god, with you around he can't help but give a few more rounds to the Fortress just to watch you as you go about your day. How he remembers your smiles, when you mentioned to some your hobbies, your interests, and so on so forth...
His gaze often falls on your small frame and his mind will wander to how perfectly it will fit against his larger figure when he's deep inside of you and—
Wriothesley thinks this is wrong. He thinks this is twisted in more ways than one, but he can't bring himself to stop it. He's helpless to the thought of you running your hands through the soft tufts of his hair whilst he holds you to himself, the way your lips would feel when matches them with his own, or how beautiful you'd sound when he inserts his digits into you as you struggle to not moan out his name.
He hates that he can't feel you. It's driving him mad.
Sometimes he's filling in and signing the mountain of paperwork he has on his desk and his mind trails off to you, and archons it's not even a minute before he has to stand up and drink some tea to clear his head. On some occasions, he'll feel so utterly pent up that there's nothing left for him to do than to lock his doors and let his hand soothe his frustrations and urges while he wishes his hand were your own or your mouth instead.
His mind is clouded with thoughts he wouldn't speak of in front of the rest and a part of him feels guilty about feeling in such a way towards you, yet he knows he wouldn't have it any other way. He's completely enthralled by you and obsessed by the thought of being able to claim you as his own.
It grows to the point that every day he sees you becomes unbearable. He can't stand how your sweet voice falls on those who don't deserve to hear it, how you smile at the prisoners whenever you get to speak with them and help them out during their shifts, how your hands sometimes barely brush together when you walk amidst crowds and he swears that a single touch of yours is enough to make him want to pick you up right then and there and fuck you raw away from prying eyes.
He is desperate. And he needs you.
So he decides that today is that day. After a few days of spending time with Sigewinne in order to mix in certain herbs with tea, he ends up with a particularly sweet tea. He reserves it for you. He's pacing in his office before he sits down in a relaxed manner, waiting for you to enter.
And the moment he hears the gentle knocking on his door accompanied by your voice asking for permission to enter, he can already feel his heart hammering. Allowing you to enter, you close the doors behind you, and for a man who's obsessed in every sense of the word, he's certainly composed.
He gestures for you to take a seat, to which you comply, and then he goes off to get the tea. After all, what better way to host a small meeting like this than to talk over a cup of tea? You're able to take in its sweet aroma and taste, and to say you liked it may have been an understatement.
"So how have you been finding the Fortress?" he muses, one leg crossed comfortably over the other. You only smile softly as you respond, taking a quick sip of your tea before answering. "Certainly different than what I expected it to be, but it seems to be managed well."
His Grace only smiles in return, and he then clicks tongue. "Say, have you enjoyed your stay here?" he asks, taking a sip as he waits. "It's been great. While some have a sharp tongue, there are a couple of people who have been good company, even if most of the time I'm around Sigewinne," you answer.
"Speaking of, where has she been?" you state, because now that you thought about it, you hadn't seen the little Melusine around the Fortress recently. Wriothesley just blinks as he then slightly mouths an 'oh.' "She's been off gathering herbs for medicine and treatment," he replies, before finishing the rest of the tea in his cup.
You hum in understanding as you stay still, having finished your own cup as well. "I see. Anyways, thank you for the tea," you reply in gratitude. The Duke only nods, as he remains there, seemingly observing you for any changes.
The two of you keep conversing, but throughout the conversation, you start to take note of something. You feel a little... moist. Perhaps you were exerting yourself too much recently?.. No, that couldn't be it — you felt as if you were getting warm all of a sudden. You couldn't exactly place your finger on what the sensation was.
Additionally, you couldn't exactly shake off the feeling no matter how hard you tried to focus on the man in front of you, and as time passed, you began to lose focus on the conversation you held with Wriothesley and your attention shifted to yourself, your gaze falling in between your thighs, the space feeling rather wet, for a lack of better words, the only thing in your mind being how unusually much you wished to be—
"Y/N?"
Wriothesley's voice snapped you back to the present as you felt blood rush to your face. No, that wasn't right, why were you feeling like this...? This was wrong... The man in front of you could only pretend for so long that he didn't know what was happening, but he wasn't in a far too different situation. The seemingly faint bulge in his pants grew ever slightly, and he was already starting to feel a little trapped and tight in his coat. He knew that you were starting to receive the effects already, so it was only a matter of time.
"Are you feeling well?" He murmurs, placing a hand on your shoulder before giving it a light squeeze, and you can swear that for a split moment you almost shiver. "... I.. it's.. sorry," you manage to murmur as you sigh quietly as you shook your head. "Is it just me, or.. is it getting rather hot in here..?"
Oh, how he wants to laugh.
You almost feel stupid having asked something of the like, and Wriothesley's barely holding himself together as he breathes quietly and calmly. He's on the verge of taking you right here and then, but he decides against it just to see what you'll do. "I feel it too," he replies relaxed, and your eyes seem to slightly light up. "Oh, so it's not just me..? That's at least a bit reassuring..."
He's so fucking desperate. Can't you tell?
And then he asks the magical question. "Why do you think I asked you to come in here?"
You blink, thinking through the question, before answering, a bit perplexed. "Because you wanted to talk...?" you reply. The man chuckles softly, though he shakes his head. "More than that, there was... something else." Confusion begins to run through your mind as you try to inquire as to what he means but before you can say another word, he picks you up, and carries you away as if you were nothing but a feather.
He locks the door to his office, and he walks up the stairs with you in his arms. "Wriothesley, what're you doing?—" you can barely say, your face pressed up against his clothed chest, but he silences you as he lays you flat on his desk.
His firm hands are quick to undo your clothing in your lower body, as he he carefully but easily slides off your undergarments. You can only feel the heat rush through you as your heart pounds. "Wriothesley, what are you—"
And your voice leaves you as you feel him spread apart your legs with his cold fingers, a bitter chill running through your spine as his tongue only starts to tease you by dampening furthermore your already wet folds. You can only bite your tongue to hold in a moan, though it proves futile when he begins to work on your clit, teasing and tracing faint circles with his tongue, causing a few whines to escape your mouth.
You can't tell whether to feel pleasured or scared. Wriothesley gives you no time to think.
He makes no effort to stop whilst you can only grasp and tug his hair, while you nervously and shakily run your hands down his smooth, black locks that glisten beneath the amber lights of his office. It doesn't take much longer for him to reach your entrance, and you clasp your mouth with your hand as you inevitably moan involuntarily. You feel your eyes practically roll back as you try to maintain your gaze focused on the raven-haired male, feeling the wet muscle continuously slipping in and out of your tightened entrance and you're certainly grateful the walls of his office are soundproof.
"Wriothesley, I can't— f-fuck!"
You can't help but squirm, your heart racing as your chest heaves up and down. Your vision is somewhat hazed, your attempts to shift comfortably failing as a new wave of pleasure surges through you as your entrance and clit are endlessly teased and caressed, a pressure building up inside you.
He's eating you out, and you're not even exactly sure if your mind would agree that you enjoy it, but your body sure as hell is, because your senses are getting stimulated beyond possibility. Your breathing is definitely evident and no longer quiet, and you can barely muffle how vocal you're growing until at a moment, you feel him retract at last.
Yet before you're able to question it, he repositions himself above you, and he's pinning your wrists above your head, his knees at either side of you as his imposing figure looms over your body, casting a slight shadow on you. "You sure are — hah — quite loud," he whispers with a teasing smirk edging on his face, his tone of voice growing a bit rasped as he reaches for an item that dangles on his hips — one you're quite familiar with.
Handcuffs.
And before you know it he's clipped them onto you and bound your wrists to his desk above your head, not allowing you to move them, their silver hue glister, glimmering in the dark shadows. "You're fucking mine," he snarls before he kisses you on the lips with fervor, almost as if he might just devour you on the spot if you don't do anything about it.
He's rough and passionate, not giving you a chance to breathe. The sudden ferocity and intensity in his act is more than enough to leave you breathless whilst you try to get used to it, to which he responds with a low growl. It's as if he's been starved for ages and his hunger is to never be sated. He bites down softly on your lower lip, effectively causing you to part your lips, giving him a chance to slide his tongue within.
The rush it gave you was almost feverish, even if it was wrong at its core. He tastes sweet, you think, as your tongues mingle together, the sweetness flooding your palates. Your train of thought was interrupted once more when he finally separated, and you breathed heavily. He was catching his breath, his mouth slightly hung open, giving you a view of the sharp canines he possesses. A small, barely noticeable trail of saliva connected your lips to his own, and he stared down at you, licking his lips to rid the saliva before his gaze landed on your neck. His hands, even with wraps and binds, were cold to the touch as he caressed your soft skin.
You're still catching your breath, blood rushing to your face when you feel him bite into your flesh, a quiet cry akin to a whine leaving you, only fueling his desire. He quietly growls, and he almost seems feral as he licks over the wound, moving quickly to other uncovered areas in your neck as he litters kisses around it. He bites hard and deep, sucking on the skin just enough to leave a couple of hickeys on you.
"You're all mine."
No words are required to be exchanged as he pauses, just leaning back. Seeing your taken-aback expression, he just chuckles softly, his icy gaze combined with the ever earnest smirk he wears already enough to keep you still beneath his iron grip. "I could just eat you up and you'd beg for more, wouldn't you, huh?" He states, his voice sounding like music to your ears.
"Bet you'd want me to fuck you dumb too."
He tugs on his tie, letting it fall loose untied with ease as his coat soon follows, allowing you to gain an exposed view of his scarred body. There's nothing more you'd like than to run your hands through his chest but the handcuffs don't allow you to move your arms in the slightest. He's depriving you of one pleasure, and he relishes in that.
"My eyes are up here, sweetheart."
And god does he love it when you try to avert your gaze in embarrassment, knowing that your eyes had solely been focused on his body. He takes his hand and tilts your chin so you're forced to meet his gaze, and he delights in the way you shudder at his mere touch — he has you at the mercy of his fingertips, he'd bet.
You're being driven mad, something he enjoys — he's no sadist, but he definitely likes seeing you having to put up with the building pressure and urges he held back on this entire time. He decides to toy furthermore with you, as he slowly begins to unclasp the belt around his waist as his pants come off loose.
You know what the man wants.
It doesn't take much time for the rest to come off, and it's very clear to you where this is going. The back of your mind is screaming at you to run, to move, anything, but your body just lies and stays still without making a sound. His hips are pressed into yours, and he has zero hesitation as he begins to slide himself inside you, positioning himself as you whimper, tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes as you feel your walls stretching to accommodate to the sudden, large length that was pushed inside of you. It's too much for you, but he hushes you, caressing your face softly and wiping your tears.
"You're going to take all of it in for me, aren't you? Hah, so fuckin' tight..."
It hurts, and his gentle caresses are a sharp contrast to how he continuously pushes inside you until he finally reaches that place that would make you scream out in pleasure. And he knows it. He's impatient, and won't waste another second, and in just a few more seconds, he's already ramming his hips against yours, bulging cock sliding in and out at a pace you can no longer register.
"God — you're so good for me — no one else is allowed to see you like this, understood?"
The both of you are lost in lust, and your heart hammers in you whilst fear and pleasure courses right through your veins. You get the feeling he's not just pleasuring you — he's marking you, through and through, making sure that by the time you're walking out, people will only perceive his scent on you wherever you go. He wants you and you alone. 
Anyone who wishes to debate his posture is more than welcome to have a word with him in the ring.
You're barely able to choke out his name as he fucks you senseless, giving you no space to plead or speak at all, for that matter. The only noise you get out are your helpless moans as you shudder from each thrust. He's feral, hungry and starved for your love, and he wants to consume every bit of it.
"Wriothesley — fuck — I-"
If it weren't for the fact he's fucking you to oblivion on his desk, he'd probably find it amusing how helpless you've become in the span of a few minutes. He loves it. Your eyes are half-lidded and brimming with tears, your moans resounding through the entirety of his office, to which thankfully, there is no one else within except the two of you. You might've not registered it but you're sure he's already torn through all the clothes covering your chest too, leaving you now entirely exposed and vulnerable to his touch.
You start to feel the building pressure you had before, and your breathing is labored, heavy. You don't think you can take this for much longer, your folds wet and walls tightening around his cock. You really weren't sure how in hell you were going to fit all of it in, but you seemed to be taking it rather well.
Your synchronized moans and his groans paired together combine, slowing into a perfectioned, rhythmic catharsis as you finally reach your climax, your fluids coating him and staining the firm material beneath you, to which you can't help but wonder how exactly does he plan to clean.
Yet as you finally release, he still doesn't stop. He's not stopping, not yet, not when he's finally got you fucked over and whimpering, helplessly begging him to cum inside of you. All of your senses and inhibitions have been tossed aside, leaving you a forlorn, flustered mess. He craves you, he might just devour you, he's unable to contain himself.
"You look so adorable when you beg, yeah? So wet and tight for me, 'M just gonna have to keep going for you..."
He is relentless. By the time he cums, you're already left breathless, voice broken and unable to say a thing other than a quiet whine. He's breathing heavily, letting his seed settle within you as his residual flows leak through your thighs, painting you as his own.
"Hah... that look in your eyes.. you wanna be rewarded, don't you? 'M just gonna have to stuff you full, hm?"
He nuzzles his head in your neck, letting the soft tufts of his hair caress your skin softly. He's still inside you, his cum still leaking through your thighs and out of your worn-out, throbbing pussy. Slowly, he slides out of you, earning a faint, muffled hum akin to that of a moan as you catch your breath. "Wrio..." you mumble out, and he presses a light kiss to your neck, right on a mark he left by earlier.
"'M gonna fill you up and make you cum 'till you can't think..." he murmured, one of his hands soothingly caressing your neck as he runs his hand through your back, his other, free hand reaching down towards your wet folds, his fingertips tracing lazy circles on your clit as he teases you gently, causing a few moans and whimpers to escape you. "'M gonna breed you.. make you all mine, darlin'."
He inserts two of his digits inside you fervently, fingering you, keeping you wet and tight as you squirm from his touch. He pulls in and out, unending and denying your pleads to stop. "P-please, Wrio — fuck — I can't-" He ignores your cries. Instead, he presses kisses across your jawline until meeting your lips, keeping you encased, trapped in a passionate kiss whilst being pleasured to no end.
"You can take it. Easy there, love."
You only respond with a whine as you feel yourself slowly reach your climax again, fluids seeping through your body and covering his digits, that slowly pull out with a wet sound. Your mouth is slightly hung open, your face with faint tints of red hidden by your disheveled hair, your body numb and almost limp.
The black-haired man simply held you tight, holding you close, never letting go, his voice whispering to you sweet nothings. His grip was tight, and unbeknownst to you, tears slowly smeared, falling across your face. You felt filthy. You felt violated. Anything but loved. And you knew more than ever, that from this day forth, you'd only ever be his.
His to love. His to hold.
For a night and forevermore, you were solely his to behold.
•,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,•
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A/N - I am utterly in love with this man. This prompt was also meant for yesterday bc Halloween n all, but I didn't make it- so- here you are- a little belated but still here! Same applies to the Imbibitor Lunae prompt that is soon to come! Love you all, remember to stay safe.
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yandere-romanticaa · 6 months
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The deep corners of the sea harbor many secrets. Be it countless lives which were claimed by the tides, ancient tales of a bygone era, or perhaps something even darker, something so great that the feeble human mind could not even think of comprehending.
The murky waters hid many things indeed. But for the Duke, his little secret was not so ancient, something not so important in the ultimate grand scheme of things.
It only mattered to him and only him.
He gazes fondly at his secret as he sips tea in the cafeteria, taking a break in a highly conspicuous area simply because he was the Duke and he could do as he wished.
He could have you at any moment he desired. The sentence was prolonged for absolutely no reason and searching for one was pointless. The Duke has his reasons, the staff would say. Run along now and go back to your duties. If you keep slacking off you'll starve.
Wriothesley liked to play favorites when it came to you.
That became evident to some of the staff very fast.
He had it arranged that your meals be of, at the very least, decent quality. No mystery meat for you or any rotten vegetables. If you consumed any of that your health would be in jeopardy. He could always just give you a proper meal or maybe even a downright good one but that would arise too much suspicion from the inmates and he was not in the mood to hear them complain. One day, the chef decided to be bold and serve you a wretched meal on purpose, just to test his hypothesis.
As expected, Wriothesley gave him an earful even if he never actually said anything about you. His bias was still evident and nothing could hide that.
Wriothesley liked to consider himself as an honest and a frank man. Like all people he had his secrets and his own cross to carry but if he could he wanted things to be done right in the open. No mysteries, no hesitance. If you were not a prisoner in the Fortress, Wriothesley would already have you on his arm. He was also aware of his imposing presence, the last thing he wanted to do was to scare you off. The power imbalance was simply too large between the two of you.
Therefore, like the predator that he was, he bid his time. He locked away his rawest feelings deep in his heart and hid the key, never wanting to throw it away.
He wanted you to come to him. He wanted you to seek him out.
Oh, to be loved, to be wanted by another human being. What a foreign yet pleasant thought. Wriothesley knew you did not see him in that light but damn it all if he does not try. All of the cards are in his hands and he has dealt you yours. The only option left is for you to play straight into his hand.
The thought of sharing a cup of tea with you made his heart soar. Patience was indeed a virtue. And fortunately for him, the Fortress of Meropide had taught him that skill a long time ago.
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🖤 TAGS: @genshinarchives, @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @kalopses-sonderes, @b10h4z4rd, @xiaopleasecomehome, @mayulli, @saturnalya, @alatusprinz, @lakxcpsta, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss, @ficsreblogs, @goldenglow149
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jymwahuwu · 7 months
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When I was picking up starfish for Neuvillette, I was illuminated by a light outside the Fortress of Meropide and automatically taken back to prison💀💔 So I'm thinking about the story of the reader trying to escape by diving and being caught by Wriothesley🥴
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CW: yandere, abuse of power, non-con, escape failed, non-consensual spanking
Just today. You can escape, now or never.
You've bribed one of the guards, using all the credit coupons you earned from working in the cafeteria. He quietly brings you a set of diving equipment from outside and briefly teaches you how to use it. He's on duty today. On this day, this day only, you can take advantage of the laxity and loopholes in the guards to escape. For the past few days, you had been submissive and radiant in front of Wriothesley, warming his cock for hours. He promised to give you a day off. You can walk around the Fortress of Meropide and chat with people, or you can just sleep and read, write, munch delicious breads and desserts. It's up to you.
And you use it to escape from prison.
You were sent to the Fortress of Meropide for some ridiculous crime… or maybe even something you didn't do at all. It only took three days from the accusation to the conviction. The members of gardes somehow searched your home for "evidence of guilt". The testimonies of the witnesses all subtly accused you, as if a strange net fell from the firmament. You tried to argue and analyze the irrationality of these logics, but tears and logic… were all useless. This ordinary trial, devoid of drama, ended quickly. They escort you to an underwater prison, where you are exiled in full view of the public.
"Mmm, raise your head and let me see you."
Your eyes widened, recognizing him, a customer you met when you worked part-time in the teahouse. He helped you deal with a customer who was harassing you. Dressed in work clothes, you introduced him to new refreshments, giggling at his witty remarks. He always comes on the same afternoon, orders tea and dessert, and sits quietly, waiting to talk to you.
Once, he asked you whether the sun was so bright outside the water, and whether the people at the top of the water were the same as you. You were confused by his question at that moment.
A confession changes something. Such a peaceful life continued until one day, he hinted whether he would be lucky enough to go on a date with you, but… you had not thought about establishing any romantic relationship with the guest. Unexpectedly, the customer just nodded, kissed the back of your hand and left.
(Underwater. Inexplicable charges and sentences.) The mind is buzzing, and those clues and emotions are flooding into you. You have some understanding of what's going on-
"…It's you. It's you who is framing me…"
"I don't know what you're talking about." He smiled - with confidence and teasing. "But falsely accusing me will only make your crime worse."
You bit your lip, shaking, tears falling.
Your cell is somehow quite close to Wriothesley's office. He summons you to his office at any time, puts you on his lap, or presses on you at night. You want to resist. Once, you yelled at him in the cafeteria. Wriothesley just held your waist with one hand, took off your underwear, and slapped your exposed and swollen butt. Other prisoners were frightened.
You arrived at the appointed location, and the guard nodded to you. You prepare to put on your diving gear, but your thoughts spread like tree roots - When will Wriothesley realize you're missing? What will he do? Where can you go...Mondstadt? Sumeru is closer, but there are Matras there. They may be working with Fontaine...Wriothesley...He...
However, these are not worth mentioning in the face of freedom. You can't hide your current smile, the joy of freedom dances on the tip of your tongue, urging you to take steps forward. Beautiful sunshine. Market. The sound of people talking. The steam from the machine when brewing tea. Detective novels and newspapers. You will be able to have these again, even if you can't appear openly anymore, but it doesn't matter, anything is better than an underwater prison and a large factory.
Anywhere is better than here…
The moment you were about to dive-
a pair of arms grabbed you.
You started screaming almost immediately, broke into a cold sweat from fear, and struggled like a fish out of water without even looking at who the person behind you was. You just want to dive into the sea, but those arms are unexpectedly strong - just like when he pulled you into his arms and kissed your lips countless times. No room for rejection.
"Hey-hey, calm down, okay? Stop." He takes off your diving equipment. What Wriothesley said was like you were losing your temper, not that he was using a trick to force you to stay with him. You turned around and met his gray pupils, crying. The man still smiled and patted your head, "there there…" But as soon as he finished speaking, you found that the guard you bribed was being subdued and pinned to the ground.
"Take him away. Inform Neuvillette." He said coldly.
The guards received the order, saluted, and then forcibly escorted him away.
"…W-when did you know?" He wrapped his arms around your waist, allowing you to sniffle and whimper. You just want to ask this, to know how much you've been predicted. Does he laugh inside when he sees you being so well-behaved…? Wriothesley paused for a moment, as if he was considering how to reply, not wanting to hurt your pride. "…Is it important?"
"I want to know."
"I told you, I know everything that's going on here, the difference is whether I want to take action or not." He placed a kiss on your forehead. "I'll use the belt later, by the way."
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angelltheninth · 1 month
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can you do one with Ayato, wriothesley, diluc, alhaitham, and whatever character you like where they're lowkey obsessed with darling (a lil too much) and reader knows it and is definitely into it. Its to the point reader even triggers their yan instincts on purpose; wearing more revealing clothes that are equally as modest, talking more to men or other people in general more than them, stuff like that.
Preferably with hints of smut or implied, and lots of visible possessiveness.
Idk if ur still writing yan stuff so if ur no longer comfortable with writing stuff like this js ifnore this.
I'm okay with writing this, thank you for asking.
Pairing: Diluc, Ayato, Al-Haitham, Wriothesley x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, yandere fluff, possessiveness, marks, biting, kissing, protectiveness, obsession
A/N: I can only write soft yandere content.
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Diluc has you work for him only so he can keep a better eye on you, or rather so he can keep people away from you. There's also you wearing his signature colors that drives him up the damn wall and he can hardly contain himself when he sees you being so touchy and sweet with the people who come to drink. It's your job yes, but you're also his girlfriend so you should only run your hands up his arm like that.
Ayato doesn't have a ton of time to spend with you because of work but he makes very sure there are many signs of who you belong to when you're on your own. When you're his he is also aware that you're a target of many people, often you don't go out much if it's not in his company or a bunch of guards that know better than to try anything that would make him angry. If you go out with him he never lets go of your hand, you're to precious to let go.
Al-Haitham hates it when you tease him by talking other men in front of him. Well not even teasing, just being a little too friendly for your own good, giving people ideas that they shouldn't have because you're already in a relationship with a very loving boyfriend. The normally calm and collected Akademic kisses you with passion no one thought him capable of, all to make sure they know you're his, and that you know it too.
Wriothesley knows not to let his fists do the talking in situations like this, after all it's not your fault you're so beautiful that other men drool over you. But it is your fault that you chose to wear a dress that shows so much skin and all your soft curves. However you also chose the dress that does a wonderful job of showing off every bite mark on your body, from ankle to your neck, leaving nothing to the imagination of last nights activities.
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⌗︙・⚠︎ being intimidated by love-struck and obsessed wriothesley ⚠︎ ♡⸝⸝
Wriothesley is aware of how intimidating he is.
Sometimes he doesn't even mean to be, and he feels a bit guilty about it. Given his stoic and less-than-inviting expressions, he doesn't blame the average person for flinching in his presence whenever they notice him in the vicinity. Hell, he's accidentally given the staff at some of the restaurants he frequents a bit of a fright from his tone and expression alone. And all because he had been simply inquiring about his meal, as it had taken longer than usual to be brought out.
But his seemingly unapproachable manner doesn't mean that Wriothesly doesn't attract his fair share of admirers and potential suitors. He'd have to be a fool to not see the lovestruck stares that were thrown his way by certain individuals, to not hear the hushed whispers of admirers fawning over his attractive features and squealing whenever he'd coldly glance their way for a split second. He isn't one to let all of that admiration inflate his ego, let alone pay much attention to it, to begin with. If at all, he'd rather avoid people's attention, much preferring to enjoy the quietness of solitude.
But he doesn't care about any one of them. Wriothesly only cares about you—his eyes are reserved for you and you alone.
Love-struck gazes on your form are often what he finds himself doing a good majority of his time, his heart beating so hard—so painfully loud—that he feels dizzy by just looking at you. Wriothesly looks at you as if you're the very reason he takes each breath, the reason why he wakes up and gets up out of bed, the very reason why he lives on. Sometimes if he catches himself passing by a mirror after having seen you, his cheeks and even ears are tinged with blush. To the unsuspecting eye, the dark haired male is more akin to a happy dog having received a treat for being good, his gentle smile and softened eyes making him look nothing like the intimidating man he is supposed to be.
But his lovesick puppy gazes fade away upon seeing you with somebody else, somebody else making you smile and laugh in a way that makes his belly fill with warmth but is quickly snuffed out once he remembers that your sweet laughter is not for him. Jealously rears its rotten, ugly head within Wriothesly's gaze, sick thoughts coiling to fruition within his mind. He cannot stand the thought, let alone the sight, of you interacting so merrily with someone that is not him. If looks could kill, then the bastard would have long since torn to pieces, left as a bloody pile heaped upon the ground long ago. He ends up crushing the fragile tea he'd been holding in his hand to pieces from the raw anger surging through his veins.
But it is not just possessiveness that fuels his obsession with you. It is envy—envy that others could make you laugh and grin so merrily in ways that he cannot. You are uneasy around him, unwilling to spare him one of your smiles that renders him a clumsy fool.
Self-hatred festers inside him every time you flinch in his presence, how when he does manage to ease a measly excuse of a conversation from you, you don't even look him in the eyes—the dust gathering in the dingy corner of a room is far better than looking at him. He supposes that your less-than-stellar first meeting has something to do with your wariness around him, as well as his frightening demeanor and voice—he sometimes forgets that he comes off as scary to you even if that was far from what he was intending.
But Wriothesly can only hold in his suppressed feelings for so long. He's only human, and even he has his limits too after all, no matter how standoffish and collected he appears on the surface. He wants nothing more than to lose himself in your warm embrace, bury his nose in the side of your neck and soak in the tranquility of being so intimately close to you without having to worry about scaring you off once again. Those daydreams that leave him shuddering with need and wanting more can hardly suffice anymore.
Wriothesley is uncertain for how much longer he could possibly hold in his festering feelings.
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© latimeriafellfromheaven
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uvuyai · 3 months
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𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓑𝓮𝔂𝓸𝓷𝓭.... 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈’𝐒 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓..
© uvuyai 2024
This event will go on for the rest of February even if I'm not finished.
Side note [02/24/24] ~ this has been cancelled due to me being busy. If you'd like, you can request which ones you wanna see.
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𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏 ~ 𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒇𝒆𝒎! 𝑭𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎! 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ) 𝐿𝒾𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒
–tw. girl cock, description of furina's cock, breeding, slight perv furina, sub x dom trope, overstimulation, MINORS DNI, creampie, riding, teasing, groping, reader is the same height as her, blow job, ooc furina, tit play, im sorry if you uncomfy with this,
𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐 ~ 𝑩𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎! 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ) 𝒢𝒾𝒻𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐻𝓊𝓂𝒾𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 + 𝒯𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒰𝓅(not viewed as bondage)
–tw. Blood, skin carving, humiliation, skin writing, non-con, creampie, sadist!blade, spanking, porn with plot(maybe), size difference, stomach bulge, choking, overstimulation, possessive behaviors, blade is called ren, mentions of the hard R in the beginning, neglect, degradation, reader is blades reincarnated lover, prone bone, MINORS DNI, non consensual touching, nipple play, SW and Kafka is helping blade, headlocking, dub-con, blood,
𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟑 ~ 𝒔𝒖𝒃!𝑵𝒆𝒖𝒗𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎! 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ) 𝐹𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝒫𝓁𝒶𝓎
–tw.
𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟒 ~ 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆! 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒚 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎! 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓) 𝐻𝒶𝓃𝒹𝒸𝓊𝒻𝒻𝓈
–tw.
𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟓 ~ 𝑫𝒂𝒏 𝑯𝒆𝒏𝒈 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎! 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓) 𝐹𝑜𝓇𝒸𝒾𝓃𝑔
–tw.
𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟔 ~ 𝑱𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒀𝒖𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎! 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓) 𝐵𝑜𝓃𝒹𝒶𝑔𝑒
–tw.
𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟕 ~ 𝑪𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒆 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎! 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓) 𝐹𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝒫𝓁𝒶𝓎
–tw.
𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟖 ~ 𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆! 𝒁𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎! 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ) 𝒩𝑜𝓃-𝒞𝑜𝓃
–tw.
𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟗 ~ 𝑺𝒄𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒚! 𝑺𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒆 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎! 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ) 𝒞𝑜𝓃𝒻𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃
–tw.
𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟎 ~ 𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒇𝒆𝒎! 𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒆 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎! 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓) 𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓅 𝒪𝓃
–tw.
𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟏 ~ 𝑺𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒐 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎! 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓) 𝒟𝓊𝒷-𝒞𝑜𝓃
–tw.
𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟐 ~ 𝑽𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒔 𝑹𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎! 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓) 𝒲𝑜𝓂𝒷 𝐹𝓊𝒸𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔
–tw.
𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟑 ~ 𝑲𝒂𝒛𝒖𝒉𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎! 𝑺𝒊𝒄𝒌!𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓) 𝐹𝑒𝒆𝓁 𝐵𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈
–tw.
𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟒 ~ 𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎! 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓) 𝑅𝒾𝒷𝒷𝑜𝓃 𝒲𝓇𝒶𝓅𝓅𝑒𝒹
–tw.
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harmonysanreads · 10 months
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「 note : written before fontaine/character(s) release. i promised crumbs :>」
If you decide to not entertain Yandere!Lyney's whims and wishes, he'll bombard you with all his tricks and mind-games til you grow dizzy and fall right into his arms. You can be certain and assured that he'll always be there to catch you.
Although her blank face rarely gives it away, Yandere!Lynette is enamored with your reactions. Every smile, every laugh, every gasp, the faintest and most prominent traces of bewilderment, amusement, irritation, distaste— are inscribed in her memory and she's always on the silent search of more.
Yandere!Arlecchino likes to present herself as your knight in shining armor, she appears in all the right moments and whisks you away from the dangers in a flair of chivalry. You're so enraptured by her charm that you never question the sudden increase of disturbances in your life, or how she's the only one to help you from them. Unbeknownst to you, the Knave keeps a tally of all the times she's been courteous, crossing out another day from the one she'll collect her debt.
Yandere!Wriothesley would absolutely hate himself if you were intimidated by him and ran away the moment he entered your radar. He understands that his countenance and reputation is at fault, but still, would it be such a tragedy if you two could just converse normally? He tries, he really tries to be reasonable even as you interact with everyone else merrily but as his jealousy and yearning threatens to consume him every day, he's uncertain of how much longer he can remain understanding.
If you try to defy Yandere!Clorinde — let's say by rejecting the meals she has prepared for you or by denying the clothes she tries to dress you in — she'll keep the firing point of her gun firmly placed on your head, occasionally charging it with crackles of electro to further affirm her stance till you yield and do as she says. No amount of sobbing will make her budge until you've completed what she's asked of you but worry not, she never forgets to call you good and reward you for your compliance at the end.
Yandere!Neuvillette calls you his moon, not as a term of endearment (he insists it is, though you've learned to not trust his smooth words anymore) but as a reminder of the perfection he seeks from you. He holds himself with the utmost propriety and etiquette and demands the same from you. His name has already succeeded in chaining your being to his, the only thing left is for him to mold you into his ideal spouse.
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yandere-daydreams · 6 months
Text
Title: Monster Mania.
Pairing: Yandere!Vampire!Neuvillette x Reader x Yandere!Werewolf!Wriothesley (Genshin).
Word Count: 3.0k.
TW: Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Oral Sex, Mentions of Blood, Non-Human Anatomy, Possessive Behavior, Prolonged Imprprisoment, and Slight Dehumanization.
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“Pouting won’t get you out of this.”
“I’m not—” You paused, gritting your teeth as his shoulder pressed uncomfortably into your stomach. In retribution, you did your best to drive your knee into his chest, to let him know he was hurting you without admitting that you were even more fragile than he’d assumed, but if he cared about your attempts at resistance, if he so much as noticed that you’d moved at all, Wriothesley didn’t waver. “I’m not pouting, I’m trying to get away from my fucking stalker and his—” Another fit of thrashing. This time, Wriothesley was kind enough to tighten his hold on your legs. “—fucking dog. Why is that so hard for you two to get that through your heads?”
He hummed, drumming his fingers against your thigh. “Might be how often call us… what was it, again? A stalker and a dog?”
You scowled, crossing your arms. From your current position, slung over his shoulder, the remnants of one of his rope snares still wrapped around your left ankle, you could only see the thin footpath he was following and the dense forest that laid beyond it. The tree canopy was too thick to let you see the sky (something you mourned and Neuvillette adored, considering his fondness for early evening walks), but rays of golden sunlight still managed to pierce the endless sprawl of branches and leaves, marking the first signs of dusk. Neuvillette had still been asleep when you slipped through the door Wriothesley had forgotten to lock when he left for his daily hunting trip, but he’d be waking up soon; you could already imagine him rising from his canopied bed, picture the diluted shock he’d wear as he stepped into your bedroom for his first meal of the night only to find it empty. You weren’t surprised Wriothesley was so eager to get you home. Neuvillette was stoic at the worst of times, but the thought of letting his pet blood-bag get away was one of the few things that could get a reaction out of him.
Not that Wriothesley was much better. He was more level-headed, sure, more likely to let you wear something aside from ivory nightgowns and untangle you from Neuvillette’s arms when his hunger left him in a blood-thirsty daze, but that never stopped him from taking Neuvillette’s side when you found yourself in another petty argument, from standing in the doorway with a smile and a dreamy look in his eyes as Neuvillette fastened a lace collar around your neck, a collar just a touch too small to cover the twin puncture marks at the base of your throat and just a touch too similar to the steel choker that sat at the base of Wriothesley’s throat more often than not. He might’ve been human, something as mortal and as delicate as you were, but he was still a monster. He’d be crushed under Neuvillette’s heel a thousand times before he ever considered showing you mercy.
The shadow of their mansion was coming into view, now – the lonely building just as dark and just as intimidating as it’d been the first time Wriothesley lured inside. It stretched on as far as the eye could see in either direction and towered above you like some awful, looming thing; thick curtains constantly drawn over its many windows and every surface of its exterior constantly covered in a thick layer of creeping ivy. The rotting boards of the front porch groaned under his weight as he approached the front door, and you braced yourself as he cursed under his breath, patting down the pockets of his heavy flannel. You weren’t sure why they bothered keeping the door locked at all – aside from what it took to keep you trapped inside, at least. Neuvillette was the most dangerous thing for the next hundred miles, and Wriothesley was a close second.
The inside of the mansion was just as ominous; any light from the outside world captured and suffocated before it could penetrate Neuvillette’s endless abyss. You squirmed, hoping Wriothesley would at least let you cross the threshold on your own, but he wasn’t so kind, only responding to your silent plea with a playful squeeze to your calf as he made his way past the entryway and down an unlit hall, passing several torn paintings and overturned tables before finally shrugging open the door to Neuvillette’s study. A bottle of red wine sat open and half-drained on his mahogany desk, a small fire smoldering in the stone hearth he only rarely used. Neuvillette sat beside it, dressed in a simple black robe, his eyes blearily focused on the low-burning flames. He looked concerned, but his apprehension faded as Wriothesley carried you into his line of sigh, disappearing completely as you were hauled off of Wriothesley’s shoulder and dropped into Neuvillette’s lap. One of his hands found its way to your waist, its twin cupping your cheek, tilting your head back and allowing him to press a lingering kiss into the top of your head. “Beloved,” he muttered, practically breathing out his pet name for you before turning to Wriothesley. “Thank you, duke. I’m sorry you’ve had to inconvenience yourself for the sake of what should be my responsibility again.”
With a groan, Wriothesley fell onto the foot of the fireplace, shrugging off his coat. Where Neuvillette chose to hide his bloodlust behind a thick veil of unwavering niceties and delicate elegance, Wriothesley leaned into his brutality; broad muscle straining at the confines of his black undershirt, scruff cropping up faster than he could clear it away, his hair an untamable mess of black and grey and his clothes caked in an ever constant layer of mud and wear (save for his metal choker, of course, which was always polished to conspicuous shine). His eyes lit up when he heard Neuvillette ask after him, posture straightening like that of a soldier called to attention. You’d been too generous when you called him a dog. He was a mutt, too mindlessly obedient to ever question his master’s orders. “How many centuries has it been since you’ve had a reason to call me that?”
“It should be four this year.” Another kiss, this one to the corner of your jaw. You could feel the points of his fangs, still tucked behind his lips but no less dangerous for their momentary concealment. “Don’t you have something to say to him, as well?”
It took a moment to register he was talking to you, another to recognize the hypocrisy of what he was asking you. Your pressed frown fell into an open-mouthed balk. “Absolutely not.” And then, when Neuvillette held strong, “You can’t expect me to thank him for keeping me trapped here—”
“Silence.” He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t bear his fangs or dig his pointed nails into your thigh – he didn’t have to. All it took was that tone. Assertive, but not quite forceful. Lulling, but no softer than the wood and stone of his hellish mansion. Immediately, you shut your mouth. Neuvillette closed his eyes, letting out a raspy sigh before taking you by the hips and turning you in his lap, so that you faced outward rather than into his chest. That was enough to earn Wriothesley’s full attention, perking up as you were perched on the edge of Neuvillette’s lap. “Why don’t we try that again. Do you have anything to say to Wriothesley?”
You glared pointedly at the floor. “Thank you. For bringing me back?”
“And?”
“And...” This was the part you hated the most. If there’d been an alternative – a dungeon they could’ve thrown you into, a brand they could sear into your skin – you would’ve embraced it with open arms. But, that was the worst part about dealing with an captor. He had all the time in the world to make you bask in your own humiliation, and he never seemed to tire of the pasttime. “And, thank you for making sure I didn’t get hurt in the forest.”
As if there was anything out there that could’ve hurt you more than they did. Still, it seemed to appease Neuvillette, who let out an approving hum as he turned to Wriothesley. “What do you think? Be honest, this time. No lesson was ever taught with a gentle hand.”
He took a long moment to look over you, another to wet his lips. Wordlessly, dependent on the pure desperation in your eyes, you begged him not to listen to Neuvillette, to take your side just this once, but your improvised attempts at telepathic communication proved unsuccessful. “It could’ve been more genuine,” he admitted, with a slight shrug. “Didn’t have much nice to say on the way back, either.”
“Is that so?” His fingertips drummed against your side. “Why don’t you join us?”
Wriothesley didn’t hesitate, practically stumbling over himself as he crawled to Neuvillette’s feet. He came to rest on his knees, hand braced against the rug between his thighs and his cheek only a hair’s width from Neuvillette’s leg, as if waiting for permission to press against him. He always looked at his most relaxed there, on the floor, patiently waiting for an order from his master. It was hard to tell whether it was a skill learned through time, or if subservience was just in his nature.
His obedience was rewarded with a breathy chuckle, a hand run through his unruly hair. Wriothesley was more lax with himself than he usually was, letting his eyes fall shut as he melted into Neuvillette’s touch. “Since your tongue is so uncooperative today,” Neuvillette started, leaning forward just far enough to rest his chin on your shoulder. “How do you think you can show our dear helper how grateful you are?”
A bolt of cold dread shot down your spine. You moved to stand, to get away, but Neuvillette’s arm wrapped tight around your midriff, keeping you pinned against him despite your resistance. “Neuvi’,” you mumbled, squirming against him. “Please, Neuvi’, I don’t want to—”
“Now you’re going to play nice?” His hand fell to your knee, drawing your legs apart. Wriothesley filled the space before you could clench them shut again, his mouth immediately latching onto the inside of your thigh, his dull teeth burying themselves in the plush of your exposed skin. You cursed under your breath, trying to shake him off, but he held tight, fists curling around your ankles to keep you spread and exposed as Neuvillette watched on, his grin pressing into the crook of your throat. “That’s a little cruel, beloved. Can’t you see how excited he is?”
You could. There was a glassy sheen over his half-lidded eyes, a hunch to his posture that meant he was too distracted with you to care about how he held himself. You’d slipped out in a rush, eager to get as far as you could before Neuvillette woke up. In your haste, you hadn’t bothered to change out of the simple, silken frock you were wearing; a choice you only came to regret as Neuvillette dragged the tattered hem to your waist, as Wriothesley’s attention drifted from your thighs to your panties, the lacey fabric torn away with little more than a curl of his fingers and a throaty growl. That, more than anything, caught you off-guard. It wasn’t a threat, but it was more hostile than anything he’d ever directed towards you before. It wasn’t a sound someone like him, someone like you, should’ve been capable of making.
Neuvillette must’ve felt the way you stiffened against him. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss into the curve of your throat, just a touch too close to the vein he preferred to drink from, then another into the dip of your shoulder. “Surely, you must’ve noticed how scarce Wriothesley makes himself around this time of the month.” He paused, laughing airily. “He’d already be safely locked away in the cellar, if you hadn’t made him run out and fetch you. I suppose it must’ve slipped his mind while he was looking for you.”
“I don’t—” A tongue, broader than it should’ve been, hotter than it should’ve been, ran over your slit. “But, he’s supposed to be—”
“Human?” You refused to look at him, refused to acknowledge what he was doing to you, but you could feel his teeth ghosting over your skin, their usually dull tips beginning to sharpen into something more pointed, more animalistic. His tongue slipped into your entrance, thick enough to stretch you open with little more than its curling tip, and Neuvillette’s focus fell to your clit, left neglected by Wriothesley’s unwavering concentration on lapping up as much of your (humiliatingly, quickly accumulating) slick as he could. His thumb toyed with the sensitive bundle of nerves as he went on. “He is rather young, as far as immortal beings are concerned. He made an adorable puppy, back when creatures of the night were free to roam as they pleased, but he’s matured since his days of village razing and cattle slaughtering. I think you’ll find he’s learned how to keep his fangs to himself.” Wriothesley nipped gently at the junction of your thigh. You winced and Neuvillette added, “More or less.”
You could only bring yourself to half-listen to what he was saying. Wriothesley was growing more wild by the second, his formerly languid movements now hasty and agitated, little groans and growls joining the wet, disgusting sounds quickly filling the study. You felt claws that hadn’t been there a moment ago dig into your ankles, his already impressive build taking on bulk that would’ve been possible for anything natural, anything human. It wasn’t enough to just look away, anymore – you shut your eyes completely, bowing your head and curling into yourself as Wriothesley ate you out like a man— no, not a man, a beast starved. The cool marble of Neuvillette’s chest was almost a comfort when compared to the raw heat of Wriothesley’s mouth. It might’ve been more soothing, had he not been taking so much joy in your suffering.
“He’s always been prone to getting carried away. I used to have to fetch him at dawn – he could never seem to make it home before the moon set and he was left bare and unconscious in the vineyard of some poor nobleman.” He pulled back, letting Wriothesley’s cold nose grind against your clit in his place. You weren’t free from his touch for very long, though. The array of ribbons that kept the bodice of your frock drawn tight were undone, the neckline loosened and allowed to fall to your shoulders. “I’ve always preferred a more direct approach. The occasional drunkard taken off the street and drained was always enough to keep me sated.” He paused, cupped the curves of your chest. “Until I came across you, of course.”
You felt his fangs scrape over your neck, but he didn’t have time to bite down before you lurched forward, the sporadic movements of Wriothesley’s tongue bringing you to a sudden, unsteady climax. It was abrupt enough, violent enough to make tears swell in the corners of your eyes, to steal a ragged gasp from your lungs despite your attempts to swallow back any pathetic sound your weak-willed body might’ve wanted to make. For the first time, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him, letting your gaze fall onto the black-furred, oversized thing between your legs. He was unrecognizable, black fur and a wolf-like muzzle swallowing any familiar trait you might’ve latched onto. Pointed ears laid flat against his scalp, a grey-tipped tail brushed over the floor lazily behind him as he moved to keep going, to milk every last drop out of you, but Neuvillette reached down and took him by the metal collar now pressing flush against his throat. There was a low, drawn-out whine as he was dragged up and away from your pussy, but Neuvillette’s cruelty was limited to you.
“We spent hours talking about what to do with you, when he first brought you home.” He spoke absent-mindedly, muttering against your throat as he guided Wriothesley onto his knees. Even at only a fraction of his full height, he was tall enough to loom over you, to replace your limited world with a towering shadow of black fur and white teeth. He was panting, his chin glistening with slick and drool, what was left of his tattered clothes torn away in a few aggerated swipes of his claws. You’d been wrong, again – not every part of him was unfamiliar. His eyes were still there, the grey clouded and his pupils blown out but still undeniably his. Still fixed entirely on you.
“I thought he should turn you as soon as possible, but he protested, claimed the transformation would be too much for you.” He bowed his head, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Between you and I, there might be a chance he’s hoping I’ll give in first. He does his best to hide it, but he tends to sulk whenever I choose to feed from you. I think he’s hoping we might both have to rely on him.”
Clawed hands curled around the arms of his chair, the wood creaking under Wriothesley’s weight. For the first time, you let your eyes drift lower, let yourself take in the massive, pulsing cock standing erect against his lower stomach. It looked too big; like a prop, made to only vaguely resemble the real thing. It looked like it could tear you in half.
“Then again, he might’ve grown fond of the idea of adding another wolf to his pack,” Neuvillette added, as you went limp against him. “We’ll have to see how human you feel when the sun rises.”
It was an awkward position, Wriothesley too tall and Neuvillette too unyielding. He kept one arm wrapped tightly around your midriff as his other hand drifted into the limited space between your body and Wriothesley’s, his pale hand curling around Wriothesley’s thick shaft and carefully lining it up with your dripping cunt. Wriothesley bucked into the stimulation, his body lurching forward and his head nuzzling into the dip of your shoulder. You felt his breath, warm and humid, fan over your chest, then the rough reverberation of his voice against your skin. “Mate.” It was more of a groan than anything, one long breath that seemed to escape from some unseen vault. It was his voice, but there was something underneath it, too – something more guttural than you would ever want on top of you. “Mine.”
“Ours,” Neuvillette corrected, tightening his hold and drawing you close. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel it, pressing against your throat as his fangs reclaimed lost territory. “Our precious, misguided little pet.”
Wriothesley thrust into you as Neuvillette drove his teeth into your skin, both men piercing you simultaneously. Too stunned to scream, you could only silently wonder who would end you first.
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fancyfeathers · 3 months
Note
I can’t help but imagine Wriothesley’s daughter trailing after her mother to listen to her sing. But she has to keep herself hidden because Darling stops and refuses to play in front of an audience (especially Wriothesley). Cue the daughter vaguely having a realization that Darling seems so much happier and vocal when she’s away from her child and Wriothesley…
”Papa?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
The little girl sat by the window in their home while her father finished cleaning up from dinner in the kitchen. The little girl’s eyes were fixed on her mother who was outside, in the field surrounding their house singing, alone with only her guitar. She never played for anyone else, not even her own daughter.
“Why doesn’t mama love me?”
Wriothesley nearly dropped the plate he was holding in shock, he looked towards his daughter and sighed. He walked over to her and took a knee in front of her, and took her little hands in his own large, beat up ones.”
“I promise you that mama loves you so much, more than you can possibly imagine.”
“But…” her eyes looked back out the window and then back to the Duke. “…she never seems happy around us… did I do something wrong?”
The tears were starting to form in the little girl’s eyes and without a thought her father scooped her up and held her close in a hug. His eyes looked out the window to his darling, no his daughter did nothing wrong, he was the one to blame. He was the one to take his wife away from everything she has ever loved… how could she love a reminder of her captivity?
“No… no sweetheart, you did nothing wrong… Mama just has a hard time smiling these days, she’ll get better soon.” He kissed his daughter’s forehead, his eyes still fixed on his wife outside, off in her own world. “I promise you that.”
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taintedbenevolence · 6 months
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Self Aware! AU Wriothesley
warnings! yandere au, self-aware au, obsessive & unhealthy tendencies, mentions of / implied kidnapping, stalking, fontaine archon quest spoilers (?)
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a/n - some more yan! wrio because i love him sm <3 also, imbibitor lunae prompt coming soon!
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self-aware! wriothesley, who doesn't let you know initially that he's aware of the fact he's in a game, taking the pleasure of observing you through the screen and occasionally making direct eye contact. self-aware! wriothesley, who comes home willingly and quickly the moment you pull for him on his banner, regardless if you wanted him to come home or not. self-aware! wriothesley, whose facial expressions just seem a tad bit more livelier than you'd expect when you return to chat with him for a quest. almost as if he's happy to see you. self-aware! wriothesley, who absolutely adores it when you talk to yourself as you view him through the screen, giving commentary on his character, hearing how you praise and love his design. self-aware! wriothesley, who begins to think of ways to directly communicate with you because he wants your sole attention. self-aware! wriothesley, who begins to crave your attention more than anything and looks forward to every time you have to come meet him in his office in-game. self-aware! wriothesley, who doesn't allow you to leave the fortress of meropide just so you can stay by his side for a few more moments, even going as far as to make additional dialogue options to make you stay put. self-aware! wriothesley, who bugs the code of the game to make it impossible for you to remove him from the party just so he gets to stay with you.
self-aware! wriothesley, who decides to break free from the game the moment you think of trying to report the issue.
self-aware! wriothesley, who manages to escape from the confines of the game and begins to hunt you down, successfully finding you.
self-aware! wriothesley, who thinks about taking you for himself, ultimately deciding against his better judgment and trapping you inside your own apartment. self-aware! wriothesley, who embraces you like you are his very own, holding you like you might just break and disappear if he lets go, not caring how you're utterly terrified in his hold.
self-aware! wriothesley, who'll whisper to you how much he craved you, enthralled and overjoyed now that he finally can call you his and only his.
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yanderehsr · 6 months
Note
Hii! Could I please request Venti, Aether and Wriothesley reaction to an escape attempt? If not its fine dw, please feel free to ignore my request. And make sure to drink enough water <3
Sure, Hope you'll enjoy😄
Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Kidnapped reader
Venti: As soon as he doesn't feel your familiar warmth when he wakes up he knows something is wrong, he is searching all of Stormterrors lair for you. He panics, where are you, please come back.
Venti will search for all of Mondstadt, and if you aren't there then he will abandon the country he's the archon of to search for you. You aren't leaving him, not ever, and when he finds you he'll make sure you can't walk away from him ever again.
"Hello there honey, did you have a good time away from me?... Try that again and I'll remove your legs instead of just breaking them... I-I missed you so much"
Aether: How, how the hell did you get out of the Serenitea pot, for a while Aether wont trust anyone, not even Paimon, what if they let you out, what if they made you leave him, he doesn't care what he is doing, he could be in the middle of saving a nation, he will find you.
This is Aether's worst nightmare probably, you left him just like his sister did. This fuels not only his resolve to find you, but also the resolve to find his sister quicker, he wants to introduce you to her so you three can travel to other worlds together, he can hardly wait.
"There you are, do you have any idea how long I've searched... now will you come along willingly or do I have to drag you back"
Wriothesley: The first thing he does is search his entire office, he doesn't want to panic. When he doesn't find you he will get worried, did you get kidnapped, did a prisoner take you to get to him, did you leave him of your own volition, either way he will get you back.
Wriothesley knows that you couldn't have left the Fortress of Meropide without him knowing. He will make an announcement, anyone who finds you and brings you to him will have any one of their wishes fulfilled by him, it's only a matter of time until you are brought back to him.
"I have to admit I'm dissapointed, I thought better of you then to run away from me, hope it was worth it because you aren't leaving my office or my side for quite some time"
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shiorilizzy · 4 months
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[Yan!Wriothesley x Reader]
Unrealistic Promised
Pairing: Yandere!Wriothesley x Female Reader
Warning: Yandere theme, inappropriate words, baby trap, overstimulation, mind-break (I guess?)
Summary: You asked to leave if he found out another girl and Wriotheselt decided to put some "sense" into your cute little brain.
After many days of running, being chased and dragged back by certain someone, you decided to give up. You bragged it up one night when Wriothesley hugged you tight as if he was afraid that you would run in his sleep. 
“Wriothesley… I want to talk…”
“Hm? Yeah go ahead, darling.” His husky voice whispered beside your ear.
“I won’t run away anymore.”
“Huh?” Wriothesley was wide awake. Was this your new plan of escape? By lowering his guard?
“Really, I really mean it. I won’t run anymore. You treat me well here anyway, but can you promise me something please?”
His arms were trembling slightly. You said the truth? Did you really decide to live beside him? Wriothesley gave you a soft smile and stroked your cheek.
“Yes darling, anything… Tell me.”
Even if you want to go out, he can do it occasionally. As long as he goes with you. He was ready to give you the whole world.
Your voice was a little bit stutter:
“Can… Can you… um… let me go with some money… when… when you get bored of me and find someone else? Please?”
“What?” He stunned. You thought he was upset because you asked for money.
“Ah… No money! I don’t need them! I-I will find a job again soon!”
Somehow he looked more annoyed and furious. But knowing you, your little cute brain must come up with some silly and unreasonable thought. So he patiently wrapped his arms around your waist, tighter.
“May I ask for reason, dear? I’m all ears.”
 “Well, I read your case last time, and I know that you have been Duke for quite a long time. So, I came up with a conclusion…”
“Uh huh?”
“That you’re an old man now.
“Uh huhhhh…….”
“Meanwhile, you are obsessed with someone like me. This means you have taste in young girls.”
“What the…” 
“But I will grow old sooner or later and become an old lady. You will get bored of me eventually and find another young, naive girl.”
“...”
“So what I asked you is: When you found out another, can you let me go please? I don’t want to live here all alone while you having your time with your new obsession. You wouldn’t want me to be around here at that time too. It’s a win-win agreement right?”
At the end of your presentation, Wriothesley’s face turned dark while his whole body trembled in fury. This is the most offensive and ridiculous accusation that he has ever heard.
He had mixed feelings right now. You really know how to push his buttons. 
Part of him was happy that you finally have feelings for him, do not want to share him. Although you may not recognize yourself now.
Part of him was excited at how you always amazed him.
Part of him was disappointed because after everything he showed you that he loves you, wanted to protect you and gave the whole world, you only thought it was some “ taste obsession”.
Part of him was furious. You dared to think that he would leave you with someone else? To accuse him that he only loves you because of your appearance and age? You dared to think of leaving him!
And excuse me WHO’S OLD???? 
Trying his best to stop trembling, Wriothesley turned on the lamp. He flipped his body, his shadow was over you. You swore you could hear him growl, like a beast before its delicious prey, preparing to eat the poor thing alive.
“Yes I can promise that as many as you want. You can leave when that day comes…”
And then your wrists were cuffed with the bed. You realized you made a big mistake when he ripped your fine expensive pajama and underwear.
“But for your information, you are not going anywhere, forever.”
He literally carved his dick into you that night. Your body was covered with bites and hickeys.
Did you think that was all?
Oh no. You were in a big misunderstood.
Not until then that you realize Wriothesley was a spiteful bastard.
Your torture continued for weeks. He would push you on the bed and make you scream his name loudly. He made you orgasm every time. He didn’t overstimulate you. He always stopped when you were on the verge of “too much” and gave you a break. But right after your body recovered, he would give you the pleasure again. Sometimes you need 2 days, sometimes you just need 5 hours, but for some fucking reason, he knew exactly when was the time to bend you. He made it feel like a session of lovers every single time, stroking you gently and whispering love words.
“I love you so much, you know that?”
“You’re my only lovely Kitten”
“Yeah… clench it tight… Good job… You’re so good…”
“Come one just once more… You can do it my love…”
“My darling… You belong to me… forever… You’re mine… mine…”
But he still held a big grudge with your words. Sometimes he will use toys and leave them for hours. You can still hear his sassy voice in your head while moaning and sobbing and begging:
“Oh dear… I’m an old man now… I don’t have much energy and strength… But don’t worry my love, these toys will help me so you won’t feel lonely. Can’t leave my young girl unsatisfied just because I’m old now huh? I will be back after I finish my work okay? And by the way because of my age so the work process may not be as fast as it used to be. But you won’t mind that right?”
Sometimes he growled and fucked you deep like a wolf in heat, your legs were on his shoulders.
“Gotta fuck a baby into you… No… babies… We will have a lot of them… If you leave… what will happen to them… huh?”
Slowly, your body was completely drained from those sexes. You cannot even walk and talk properly: your limbs trembled, your throat hoarse, your cunt was swollen and hurt. Felt like Wriothesley pulled soul from you bit by bit. He overstimulated you but did not overstimulate you at the same time. Your brain was hazy and a mess but you knew one thing: you would die if he continued
That day, when Wriothesley was about to begin his torture, you grabbed his arm and begged.
“P-Please… Wrio… not today… I’m-I’m sorry… please stop… I might die at this rate… please… I-I-I need a break… I will die if you continue… please…” You cling to him tight, afraid that he would ignore your plead and kill you with pleasure today.
But he kept his sassy voice.
“Oh darling… don’t be modest… I’m aware that I’m an old man and have little stamina. A young girl like you can take more than this.”
“NO!” You shouted, felt like losing sanity “N-No… No… You’re not old… I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I-I-I was wrong… You’re the most handsome and the strongest man I’ve ever seen… P-Please… I knew my mistake… Please I can’t take it anymore…” You cried.
Wriothesley seemed satisfied with your reaction. He hummed as he hugged you like a fragile thing.
“How about the promise? The leaving?”
You shook your head violently.
“No! No I won’t! I-I love you! I won’t leave no matter what! Because Wrio only loves me!”
He kissed you on your head.
“That’s my good girl… I love you so much… I will take care of you forever… my lovely only darling.”
Finally, Wriothesley can love you in “normal” way.
Little did you know that he only stopped because Sigewinne said you have someone in your belly now.
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jymwahuwu · 7 months
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After watching the animation, I felt uncomfortable and had thoughts about handcuffs. just found a reason to be handcuffed and spanked by Wriothesley 🥵🙏💦💦
CW: yandere, forced imprisonment, abuse of power, non-consensual spanking, humiliation
For a whole week… you were uncooperative, stamping your feet in front of Wriothesley's face, arguing with him, or responding with perfunctory- "yes-yes", "got it.", "you're right again anyway". Why? He keeps you in this underwater prison and factory, restricting your freedom. He smiled lightly and gracefully, patting you on the head as if you just weren't mature enough. Like just punched the pillow with his fist, it was completely useless. The anger in your chest burned even brighter.
You were sulking that day, slowly poking at the food with your fork in the cafeteria, thinking about how to escape the Fortress of Meropide. A young and sweet voice sounded next to you. "You look unhappy. Cheer up. Want a milkshake?" "No, thank you." You replied quickly, without even glancing at who the person was. In the corner of your vision, a blue milkshake approaches you, and you turn around irritably.
"I told you no…" Inadvertently, your elbow touched the cup, and the whole cup fell to the ground and broke. You were startled to realize that it was the head nurse, Sigewinne. Guilt builds in you, and you're about to apologize and pick up the pieces, but you hear that annoying voice - Wriothesley's. His boots appear before you. "Wow, what a big scene. Do you mind explaining it?"
Sigewinne waved her hand and raised head to look at Wriothesley. "I'm fine, Your Grace."
Rebellion takes a place in your heart. You swallowed your apology and sneered. "I broke it."
Wriothesley raised his eyebrows. "Really? Well, come to the office with me. Sigewinne, don't pick up the debris. I will ask people to clean it." Sigewinne gave you a worried look and explained. "It's really just an accident, not intentional, Your Grace…"
"Don't worry." He gave a reassuring smile. "Just going to the office to chat."
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As soon as you entered the office, you heard the door being locked. Your heart skipped a beat, but you still maintained a stoic look.
Wriothesley walked slowly from the door to you, hugged his arm, and asked in a relaxed tone. "You've been very rude lately. What's wrong?"
You can't believe Wriothesley is actually asking this - "Don't you know you're the reason! When am I going to get out of jail! Why I have no idea how long my sentence will be extended!"
"This is what happens when someone disobeys." Administrator said, taking something out of his pocket. "And now I'm right. You don't look like you're fit to be released from prison."
He quickly lifted the back of your hand, and then with a sound, the handcuff locked your right hand. You suddenly broke into a cold sweat, but your other hand was grabbed and locked in the same way. "W-what do you want to do!" accompanied by a chuckle. "You look better this way, but it's not enough."
Wriothesley sat down leisurely, stretched out his hand, and pulled you onto his lap. As you screamed, a chill ran down your butt, and the covering material was pulled down. But he still felt that it was not enough, and even took off your underwear, not even allowing the underwear to stay on your calves, but threw it on the desk. Before this, you had never known that Wriothesley's strength was so irresistible and powerful. He always allowed you to push him away a little.
A hard slap on your ass. Terrified, you straightened your legs and kicked them, as if that would relieve the pain, but it didn't. "How dare you - how dare you spank me! Wriothesley, I will teach you a lesson once I get out!"
"Ha-I'm waiting." He said, holding back the laughter in his throat. "But now, you're being spanked by me, so watch your words."
The slaps landed on your butt one after another, and his thick arms were waving, showing no mercy, as the loud slapping sound proved. The pain urged your eyes to fill with tears, and you wanted to struggle, but the cold handcuffs reminded you of your position. "Stop this…you have no right to do this…"
"I have. And no one can stop me from doing this." While holding your waist, his big, rough hand slapped your right butt three times in a row. Just when you thought you had adapted… pain. You sobbed quietly, sniffling.
After the slap lasted… you don't know, 2 minutes or 5 minutes later? It seemed like a lifetime, and finally it stopped. "Poor you." The palm touched your heated butt and rubbed it gently, "It's all swollen. If you were obedient, it wouldn't be like this, right?"
"Asshole…" you just struggled to curse in a low voice, "um, let's start again." These few understatement words gave you a huge warning. The slaps started again, even harder than before. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to stop him. "…wait, wait, I'm sorry!! Don't start over!!"
"Ah, too late," he snickered, not stopping to spank. "Well, I can even hear you scolding me in your heart. Just be good, even a little bit, okay?"
What follows is a long afternoon. Wriothesley didn't spank you continuously, but kept you on his lap. He reviews the documents and signs and adds notes. Occasionally, he thinks of you and waves his arms to educate you. You were like a poor little pet, on his lap, with tears hanging from your eyelashes, your hands locked in handcuffs, and butt is swollen and radiating heat.
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