Wriothesley X Reader - Tumblr Posts

powercloud

1 year ago

++ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

[summary] wrio missed his wife, and she missed him just as much. two simps in love.

[cws] fluff. fem reader -> wriothesley’s wife. reader is a mondstadt native. kissing.

Wriothesley’s cup of tea pauses halfway to his mouth as there’s a knock at his office door. His fingers tighten unconsciously around the handle, that incessant throbbing at his temples that had been dying out suddenly tapping into its nth life.

He contemplates ignoring it; pretending he didn’t hear it and indulging in his fresh brew, but he’s never been one to shirk off his work, no matter how inconsequential the task.

He sets the cup down rougher than necessary, and the legs of his chair scrape loudly against the floor as he pushes it back from his desk and stands to his feet. Someone better be dead or on the verge.

It was an unspoken rule that Wriothesley wasn’t to be bothered at this time -a quarter after five until six- because it was official tea time, a very, very important time in his day that let the inhabitants in Meropide see his most agreeable side… although he had heard talk from a few gossipy guards and prisoners that his ‘pissy attitude’ this past month had nothing to do with his interrupted tea times, but rather that his wife had gone back to Mondstadt to visit family.

“You know how he gets when he doesn’t see her after a while—downright scary. I’ve never seen a man look so enraged and distraught at the same time.”

“He put me on pipe restoration duty —don’t laugh, it isn’t funny! Worst job in the whole place, I swear— for the next six months all because my wife dropped by with a bento on my break. Apparently no one can be happy when his missus is away.”

“I caught him staring at her picture the other day, y’know the one he keeps in that chain around his neck, and sighing like some schoolgirl. I nearly thought my daughter had somehow gotten herself arrested and thrown down here when I heard all those lovesick sighs.”

It was all hearsay and speculation, of course. Wriothesley could manage just fine with you away - he was a grown man, a weathered man, a man who could function fully without the company of his wife.

That’s right, he thinks to himself. He’s been doing just fine in your absence, a bit quicker to anger than usual, but with the looming threat of being turned into a big, sopping puddle right below his feet, could you really blame him?

The door is wrenched open, strands of black and gray flying back from where they rested against his forehead due to the strong gust of wind he created.

“What is it now?” He nearly hisses out, but he manages to get a reign on it last minute, the words coming out a bit strained instead. He eyes the guard standing in front of him, their eyes flitting between the crease between his brows and the floor. “Spit it out before I—”

He stops abruptly when he hears a voice that he knows intimately well, and had he possessed any shame when it came publicly displaying the love he harbored for you, he would have been a touch embarrassed at the speed of which his frown smoothed out and the throbbing in his head disappeared, a sparkle in his eyes as his shoulders lose a bit of their tension.

“Oh? He has? Thank you for telling me, Sigewinne. I’ll get right on that.” You come rounding the corner with the small doctor at your side, a knapsack in your hands, and had Wriothesley been any less sane, he would have swore that he could feel the rays of the sunshine beaming down on his skin and fresh air filtering into his lungs when you turned your gaze to him, scornful as it was.

You’re fitted in a dress that’s customary for the women in your homeland to wear, and flowers are weaved into your hair, and the ring on your finger seems to shine a bit brighter.

“Wriothesley.” You march up to him, eyebrows knitted together, and push your finger against his chest. “What is this I hear about you acting like a tyrant?”

“You look beautiful.” He breathes out.

“And going to the Pankration ring? You know those poor people don’t stand a chance against you. That’s just bullying.”

“Let me take your bag, it looks heavy.”

“And you haven’t been eating right, either! Look at your face — you’ve lost weight!” He transfers the bag from your hands to his, and when his fingers brush against yours, he finally lets a smile bloom on his face, being met with a huff. “Don’t smile at me. I’m mad at you.”

“Can’t help it, happy to see you.” You falter a bit, corners of your lips twitching, but you hold strong, choosing to save face in front of the onlookers—always put up a good fight, especially when others are looking, is what he had told you once upon a time. “I’ve missed you so much.” It comes out in a low murmur, eyes locked onto yours and refusing to stray, even when you decide that his gaze is a bit too heavy for the setting and avert your own.

“I-well-you…just get inside your office.”

He’s nice enough to hold back a chuckle, instead stepping to the side so that you can shuffle past him and inside. Before he shuts the door, his gaze turns icy and his smile thins out as he lets his eyes sweep over everyone present. A resounding groan is heard, the unspoken promise loud and clear, and then he’s pushing the door shut and turning on his heel.

You’re on him in a second, arms wrapped around his waist as you bury your face into his chest. He returns the hug just as quick, thick, burly arms circling around your shoulders as his head dips down so he can stuff his nose into your hair and breathe your scent in.

Your voice comes out muffled as you try to speak, and he loosens his hold on you a bit, allowing you to pop your head up so you can look up at him. There’s a halfhearted pout on your lips, and his response is a reflex as he leans down to give you a peck once, twice, three times before moving on to place one on the tip of your nose.

“You were supposed to let me scold you out there, birdie. Now everyone’s gonna know that I let you off easy.”

“Let me off easy? I’d say this is the meanest you’ve ever been to me,” he gives an exaggerated expression of hurt. “You haven’t even told me you missed me, or that you’re happy to see me, or that you’ll never leave again because you couldn’t stand being away from me.”

“You’re so dramatic.” You smile despite yourself, and he kisses you again, scarred hands moving to cradle your cheeks. You part with a gasp for air, and its his turn to smile when you stretch up to reconnect your lips, the lack of air not deterring you in the slightest.

“Breathe, sweetheart…” He rasps against your lips, and you suck in a breath, eyes slowly blinking as you tug at the material of his shirt. There’s a rush of emotions that washes over him at the unspoken confirmation that you missed him just as much as he had missed you, and he lets his hands wander down to settle on your waist, fingers flexing as they squeeze at the flesh there through the material of your dress.

“Well, well, well,” he starts, and you blink out of your stupor to don a guilty expression. “Looks like you haven’t been eating right, either, hypocrite.” He lightly pinches at your side, and you squeal out a laugh as you lightly bat at his hand.

“Have I told you that I missed you, and that I’m sooo happy to see you, and that I’ll never, ever leave again because I can’t stand being away from you?” You flutter your lashes up at him, direct that heart-stopping smile up at him, and for a split second he thinks that the primordial sea has broken the seal and reduced him to nothing but a puddle at your feet.

“Careful now, words like that are liable to kill a man, and this place isn’t fitting for a sweet girl like you.”

“Oh? Then maybe I should leave earlier than I intended t—” He quiets you with a kiss, and you laugh into it, earning a gentle nip on your bottom lip. Your teasing smile settles into something sweeter, tender, vulnerable, and it mirrors him perfectly.

You both speak your next words in unison.

“I missed you.”

Tags :

wriothesley x reader genshin impact x reader genshin x reader genshin fluff genshin impact genshin impact fluff genshin impact wriothesley

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powercloud

1 year ago

how would you write wriothesley needing reassurance?

x : TO LOVE A GOOD THING :*+ﾟ

in which: wriothesley thinks he loves you more than you love him.

warnings: 1.4k words, reverse hurt/comfort with angst, wrio being insecure sorry, gn!hot-headed!reader, reader gets into a fight, wrio patches you up.

a/n: thank u @sixosix for helping me out during my my hard times. this fic was already half written before I got this ask but then it was like the stars aligned and anon came to save a fic that might have never made it out of the drafts. anyways, idk if the writing is good, but i came, i saw, i conquered. enjoy!

Wriothesley thinks he loves you more than you love him.

If he voiced these thoughts to you, you’d shut him down without another breath. He can almost picture it now, the way your nose would scrunch as a precursor to all the statements you will make rejecting his. He can hear all the things you’d say, insisting ‘that’s just not true!’, and then he’ll laugh to cover up the way his chest will swell with pure adoration.

But it is true.

Loving you is easier than breathing. The heart that sits in his chest beats harder for you than the circulation of oxygen in his lungs, but he breathes because it keeps him alive. If he’s alive, then he gets to see you, the best thing that’s happened to him his entire, unfortunate life.

He thinks he loves you more than you love him because you once told him your favourite flowers were glaze lilies. However, when you complained that they only bloomed during the night, Wriothesley knew that he would wrestle the sun just so the moon could shine a little longer.

He thinks he loves you more than you love him because you linger in the crevices of his mind. Down in the Fortress of Meropide, the days may pass excruciatingly slow sometimes and the only cure for him is yearning for the one he loves most. Perhaps if he wishes hard enough, you’ll burst through those doors with a declaration of a new discovery and sit on his desk, avoiding the paperwork.

Most times, his wishful thinking doesn’t work out. On the rare occasion it does, Wriothesley will be fortunate enough to end the work day with your palms on his cheeks, gently motivating him to finish what’s left.

You’ll peel stickers off his body, ignorant of the fact that he saves them up just for an excuse to feel your hands on him, then he’ll kiss you in thanks, eyes fluttering closed. Near you, he can finally let his guard down, let the gauntlets and coat fall as he sinks into you.

Wriothesley already feels bad whenever you come down to a place so unforgiving and confronting. He tries to brighten up the place sometimes, but metal can only shine so much before it rusts again.

Is it pathetic to want to better yourself for another person? Or is it love?

Wriothesley thinks he loves you more than you love him, and he’s perfectly fine to continue living with that fact. As long as he’s the one you return to every night, he’ll be fine to live with whatever burdens you press onto him.

He just didn’t expect that one of said ‘burdens’ would result with you, Sigewinne’s infirmary, and your face littered with cuts and bruises.

“You should have seen the other guy,” is your poor attempt at humour as your lover frets everywhere, pacing back and forth as the small nurse tends to you. His heavy boots resounding against metal floors.

“Seriously, Y/n, what were you thinking?” The warden clearly isn’t amused by your joke, the only thing keeping him back from completely lecturing you is Sigewinne and that stun gun of hers.

A small yelp slips past your lips when she applies some balm on your sore knuckles and Wriothesley winces, as if feeling your pain. “They were talking bad about you, Wriothesley, what did you want me to do?”

“Nothing!”

Sigewinne gives him a look. He immediately shuts his mouth. “I can’t do that,” you insist.

“You can, and you should’ve. I can defend my own honour. Besides, you didn’t need to lower yourself to the level of crooks just to prove a point.”

“But-”

“-The guys you beat up were just admitted here. Normally after receiving a life’s sentence, the first name that’s slandered is mine as an outlet for anger. This is normal, Y/n, they’ll continue on to realise that the Fortress of Meropide is not their standard prison and reform. You, however, might have just set back their progress.”

Your head drops, a little in shame, but mostly because you don’t have anything to say in retaliation. Silence envelops the dim space, none of you brave enough to break the tension that came from Wriothesley’s scolding. With a few final words from Sigewinne about what medicine to apply, when, and what not to do, she leaves the room quite hurriedly, as if eager to let you and Wriothesley talk about it alone.

Immediately, he crosses the room to where you sit, closing in on your personal space.

“The things they were saying about you were unforgivable. Meropide’s great duke may forgive, but I won’t.”

“Nothing is as unforgivable as you getting hurt.” Care laces his voice this time when he talks to you.

“You won’t throw me in prison for this, right?” You ask with a bashful smile, one that sends him reeling.

“Not prison, no,” he coughs. “However, I can’t not reprimand you.”

“Fine. I guess this just means that I love you more.”

He knows you’re kidding, that you’re only trying to make him feel better because the grin on your face is nothing short of mischievous. Part of him falters, cracks like an earthquake splitting the land apart and pulling him under. To stabilise himself, his rough palms find purchase on both sides of your jaw and his forehead is pressed flushed to yours.

(You don’t love him more, how can you love someone as ragged as him?)

“Impossible,” he murmurs against your mouth.

“Really, let these bruises be a reminder,” you chuckle. His thumb ghosts over a bruise on your cheek and his heart aches at the way you wince, even if just slightly. If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t be here, sat on a hospital bed with wounds he inadvertently caused.

You wouldn’t be here, in a dingy, dreary Fortress that you’re only obligated to visit because of him.

(Oh, but he hopes you never leave. The day you go and never come back is the day Wriothesley will turn all of Teyvat upside down just to search for you. Where is his place if not by your side?)

There’s a warm poke to his cheek that’s quickly followed by a damp residual. Wriothesley quickly realises that you wiped a tear away, and he curses the following few that spill. You shouldn’t waste your efforts on him: a man half-coherent, and wholly undeserving of you.

“Love, oh, love,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the bruised area. “Why did you do this?”

“I already told you,” you hum. “Because I love you.”

“I’m not worth it.”

Your hand stills. “What do you mean by that?”

“This happened because of me,” there’s pain in Wriothesley’s voice when it cracks. “You didn’t need to harm yourself for me, I’m more of a burden than you think, Y/n, nothing good will come out of loving me too much.”

For a second, everything stills. The beating of his heart, your breathing, the dull humming of the fortress’ mechanics, it all becomes silenced. The world only kicks up again when you speak.

“How could you say that about yourself?” You reprimand, shaking his face lightly. “A ‘burden’? Are you hearing yourself right now, Wriothesley? You’re not making any sense right now!”

There’s a passionate look in your eyes. One he doesn’t think a man like him deserves.

“I do not love you for ‘good things’ to come out of them, I love you because you are the good thing, and I will do anything for you to remain the way you are.”

Oh, he might cry again. Are there tears in the corners of his eyes? How can he help it when you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him?

“Don’t write me off as some poor soul whose subjected to your love,” you whisper, but he hangs on to every word you say. “Your love is not a burden I bear, but rather, the most fortunate thing I’ve ever had the luxury of cherishing.”

Unable to hold himself back any longer, Wriothesley presses his lips to yours in an all-consuming kiss. He drinks up all of your praise and lets it settle in his gut to bloom, untethering himself from the chains that rubbed his wrists raw. You love him, you love him more than he thought possible.

How lucky he is that you pull him closer, selfishly taking all of him.

Tags :

wriothesley x reader genshin impact x reader genshin x reader wriothesley fic wriothesley x you genshin impact genshin impact fluff genshin fluff genshin impact wriothesley wriothesley fluff

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powercloud

1 year ago

𝐓𝐇𝐄 "𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐃𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇" 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐊— 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

if there was one word you could use to describe wriothesley, it would be cold.

contents. 7.4k+ wc (please give it a chance 🙏) f!reader, a non-canon annual animal hunting competition, furina being in her matchmaker era, cliche but that’s kinda the point, there's a trope called the “cold duke of the north” trope that describes a very stereotypical male lead, super similar to the “company ceo trope”! picture creds: @/ochaiit - x notes. “on a scale from one to ten how self-indulgent was this alexis” a ten. i need him.

being a government official under the rule of focalors, you often have to do things you don’t want to do. the job description means a lot of things, including (but not limited to) enduring tedious meetings with neuvillette and rescuing stray kittens lurking outside the palais mermonia, but this really takes the cake.

“will you be a dear and let me know how wriothesley is doing?”

you blink as furina claps her hand excitedly, leaning forward to stare gleefully at the cookies that line the plate before her.

“…sorry?”

“well, i realized i actually don’t know that much about the fortress of meropide,” she smiles flippantly, completely enamored by the sweet treats in front of her, “i want you to do some routine check-ups and make sure everything’s running smoothly!”

“but i—”

“i’m sorry but i already let him know, so i’m afraid you don't have a choice in the matter.” her eyes peer up, that cat-like quality in her iris making your eye twitch; she gives you a close-eyed smile as she pushes the tray to the middle of the table, “here, take one as a gift! you can even give one to him if you’d like.”

“i’m alright, thank you.” you smile, waving your hands in front of you as the traitorous back of your mind wonders how you ended up with someone like her as your archon (seriously, your prospects in sumeru would fare far better), but you attempt to shush it as best as you can as your back sinks onto the plush pillows on the edge of the couch, your fingers unconsciously picking at the loose fuzz.

she studies your stature closely, barely disguising the glint of suspicion in her eyes.

“why do you look so flustered? does the duke make you nervous?” her grin shifts from virtuous to a more mischievous flavor as she daintily plucks a cookie off the tier, “hot and bothered, even?”

“no!” you protest quickly, shooting up from your position; her smile is teasing at best and almost evil at worst, making your face feel even more aflame as she chews on the cookie thoughtfully, patiently waiting for you to defend yourself more.

“i just…” you grimace under her stare, “don’t think he likes me is all.”

her eyes widen in surprise — real surprise, from what can you tell (a rarity from your archon). “whatever do you mean?”

“i mean, he’s always so…” you pause, biting the inside of your lip as you try to think of the word, “cold? he avoids me at every event he’s forced to come to, and when i think he’s just in a bad mood or something, i see him chatting up neuvillette or clorinde five minutes later! i haven’t done anything to him and he finds every excuse not to talk to me!”

“it doesn't seem like that big of a deal to me, maybe he’s just nervous?” she shrugs, her feet rocking back and forth as her heels hit the back of the couch.

you wrinkle your nose. “why would he be?”

your archon thinks for a moment, and for once, you think she might actually be genuine.

as soon as her mask slips, though, her playful smile is back on her face, and she bounds off her lounging position, grabbing a small cake to bring to her table.

“anyways, just check in with me once you’re done visiting down there, okay? i’ll get you access and everything so you don’t need to worry about that!” she sets the plate on the wooden desk — you stand up, knowing that this is her way of ushering you out.

“goodbye now!” she waves cheerfully as you make your way to the door, “i’ll have neuvillette send you the schedule later!”

you hope later means never.

(unfortunately for you, neuvillette has the schedule at your doorstep by sunset.)

I.) MUSCLES FOR DAYS (HARD-ROCK ABS, REALLY?)

“and this is where the inmates live,” wriothesley holds his hand out, helping you up the stairs, “the dormitories are all here; every person has their own bed, room, and bathroom, and although curfew is strict, it’s not unreasonable. so, are we done here?”

you look around the hallways leading to the rooms, split off into four clusters across multiple levels. furina and her insatiable curiosity for the deep fortress of meropide will be the death of you.

“i’ll be down here again if we're not,” you turn to him, showing him the crude map you’ve drawn of the fortress layout, “does this look right to you?”

he tilts his head, his pale eyes squinting at the rough sketch you’ve made before he lifts his right eyebrow, “i’m not sure why you put “gross food” in the cafeteria section, but other than that, it looks about right.”

you used to think wriothesley could actually be quite handsome if he talked to you more, but that was before his tactic switched from avoiding you to subtly pissing you off (the eye candy definitely helps, though).

“for furina,” you smile noncommittally, “she wouldn’t enjoy the food down here, it’s too heavy.”

his nods in acknowledgment. “it’s good that she can have you do her dirty work every time she wants to check up on this place, then.”

your eye twitches as you fold the map back into your pocket distastefully, biting your lip as your shoes clack against the steel floor, the iron lanterns providing some very much-needed warmth to the lack of it.

he's not wrong, she’s sent you down here multiple times for the past few weeks for “research” that the warden could easily provide her, but she's been insistent on sending you instead; today and the past three days have been about her pushing you to create a personalized map for her (as if she would ever go down there willingly). wriothesley’s comment definitely wasn't needed, but as long as you can get out of here as quickly as possible and return to where the sunlight actually shines, your day is still redeemable.

that is, until sigewinne ruins everything.

“your grace, your grace!” she runs up the other side of the steps as the two of you are making your way down — you quickly turn around at her panicked tone only to be met with wriothesley's abdomen, his ruffled black dress shirt tucked into his pants and his startled expression only a single step behind you.

you make a noise and take a step back out of surprise, only to have your foot trip on the step below you.

it all happens too fast for you to perceive, because one moment your heart drops in preparation for some inevitable head injury from the metal that makes up the damned place, and in the next, you feel someone's arm pull yours back, harshly stalling your fall as a blur of black and red envelops your body; your chin bumps painfully against his as you crash onto the floor, the pricking stinging at your skin and fuck, did you just—

wriothesley’s eyes are screwed shut in pain as his shoulder rams into the floor, a soft groan leaving his lips as you feel your face heat up, too flustered to move — his adam’s apple bobs as your warm exhales fan his neck, and archons, it feels like you’re lying against a wall. a soft wall, but a wall nonetheless; your arms grip at his biceps as you push yourself off of him after half a minute, his forearms sliding lax off of your back, grimacing. did he just take the brunt of the fall for you?

you stare down at him in horror, the heat from your hands contrasting the cold metal, the faint red on his lips contrasting his pale skin; his eyes open, dazedly staring at the ceiling instead of you.

it’s almost funny how he still somehow manages to avoid your gaze even when he’s injured.

you scramble off of him in the next moment, moving to extend a hand to his, helping him up with as much strength as you can muster (it is your fault anyway), trying to cover up the faltering mess you are.

it doesn’t help that you hang your face down low, avoiding eye contact as the heat creeps into your ears.

his lips are parted ever so slightly, a shaky breath escaping them before he heaves out a heavy sigh. “what hit me?” his fingers gingerly touch his chin as sigewinne bounds over to his side, calling his name out worriedly.

he didn’t feel your lips on his—? “my forehead,” you blurt out quickly, swallowing, patting your forehead, “i must’ve bumped your chin, i’m sorry.”

he blinks in confusion before he sighs for the umpteenth time (it really does seem like he's always sighing when you're around), straightening his back.

“be more aware of your surroundings next time,” he says stiffly, “i'll have deakin escort you back up, i apologize for not doing it myself.”

your expression sours at the thought of deakin before you remember that the warden is in front of you, and you flash a fake smile. “i'll see him up there, then,” your eyes flit to the melusine who stares innocently at you, biting the inside of your lip, “it was nice running into you, sigewinne.”

she offers to give you a small check-up with apologetic eyes but you refuse quickly; you can’t be down here for another second, not the way wriothesley’s pale eyes burn holes into the back of your head as you leave.

deakin is as rude and boring as ever, your interaction with wriothesley has rendered any ability to ever make eye contact with him again useless, and you’re a little bit more than pissed at furina for sending you down there in the first place, so when you see her waiting with hearts in her eyes and an excited grin on her face when you step out of the elevator, you have to mentally prepare yourself.

“so,” furina smiles innocently, “how did it go?”

you swallow, your cheeks warm under her gaze.

“…i think i accidentally kissed him,” your chin throbs, but not as fast as your heart is, “and i don't think he noticed.”

II.) THAT SPECIFIC HAIRSTYLE (WHY DOES HIS NEW HAIRCUT LOOK THE SAME?)

despite how incessantly you plead, furina insists on sending you back. you think she's been reading too many isekai novels that yae’s publishing house has been pushing out recently — not that they're bad, but because it's impossible to be blind to her motives.

“let me guess,” you shoot him a playful look, “they call you a demon on the battlefield.”

wriothesley raises an eyebrow. “i’ve never touched a battlefield in my life.”

to your surprise, the man didn't mention your embarrassing mishap that occurred on that very first day, which either means that he's just as mortified as you are or that you’d misjudged his character from the beginning, and he's actually a saint in disguise.

you think it might be the latter because even with your constant badgering over these past few weeks, he's never once complained; he just hangs back, letting you explore the nooks and crannies in the fortress without much grievance.

the excuse is a safety check this time, which is infinitely worse than the past days because you actually don't have many qualifications to decide what is safe and what isn't.

“are you good with a sword?”

“i prefer my fists.”

“i think swords are cooler.”

“keep talking and i can show you first-hand just how much cooler my gauntlets are.”

you laugh to yourself, your fingers trailing against the rusty pipes of the fortress and your snickers echoing against the hollow copper.

you glance at the man next to you as sneakily as you can, taking a moment to admire his stoic features. his words may have seemed to be mean-spirited, but he remains as aloof as he’s always been; his eyes shift to yours before you immediately turn away, staring up at the screws and bolts that line the area. you swallow, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment.

you and wriothesley aren't particularly best friends, no, but there are times — certain hours of the day and depth carved into your short allotments with him — when you feel a small connection buzzing between your fingertips and his, or when you catch him looking at you just a little bit longer than he’s supposed to. it gives you a childish sense of hope, the kind that lights giddy fires in your heart when he turns his head in your direction.

“so what’s up there?”

“hm?” wriothesley stops in his tracks at the sound of your voice, following your finger to the dark edges of the hallway. the tube you stand in is supposed to be empty, save for the random crab that stumbles its way in through the large pipes or overgrown flora covering certain areas, but you’re not lying, something is sparkling in the distance up ahead from you.

it’s dim enough that he can’t make it out until the two of you get closer, and through tentative steps, the two of you slowly approach it.

it’s a pool, he realizes, stopping no more than a few centimeters away from the platform's edge, barely inches above the still water that lies flat below him. you’re right behind him, peeking shyly from behind his shoulder to the clear blue under you (he feels your breath on his jacket for just a moment, your eyes peering at the water as if you're staring right past his skin).

“…this doesn’t bode well.” his voice doesn’t echo as much as it should, not with the swamped area and the sound of the fortress’s money practically going down the flooded pipe drain in front of him.

“wait, what do you mean?” you come up from behind him, kneeling down on the pavement. the loose rock digs into your knees and your hands grip the edges as you lean down as far as you can, practically bringing your chin to the water’s surface — you can’t help the wide smile that appears on your face as you turn to peer up at the man; from this angle, it’s beautiful, with seaweed and sand caved into the pool just a few feet away with shells and crustaceans alike, “can’t you use this to swim or something? i’m sure the inmates would love to stretch their limbs!”

“unlikely.” his face is grim, “this was supposed to be a drainage tube that also blocked water from entering, the fact that it’s broken down this much and for this long…i can’t even imagine the damage it’s done to the metal surrounding the area. it's already surprising enough that the left wing of the fortress hasn't been affected yet.”

it’s around this moment that you realize that you don’t like this expression on wriothesley’s face.

it's too similar to the cold and unfeeling appearance he used to parade around you, but it's worse because the way his eyebrows furrow and the way he bites his bottom lip shows something unnatural for wriothesley, something you've never quite noticed.

you know that realistically, he's probably worn “worry” before from deep within the shadows of his office and far from the blue sky that you know, but in all your years of knowing him, you've never seen it, the sullen gray that pools in his iris, the tense in his shoulders. it doesn't feel like him — a powerful and handsome warden such as himself should be gallivanting around with sly grins and open arms, not beating himself up over a mistake that no one's noticed before this.

“hey, did you get a haircut?” you ask randomly, swinging your fingers mindlessly across the still water.

he seems to shake out of his brooding stupor at your words, shifting his eyes to look down at you. “you’ve noticed?”

no.

“of course i did!” you lie through your teeth, creating ripples around your skin as you stare up at him. he nods in acknowledgment, his small frown still pulling at his lips as he contemplates his new problem.

there's much to do after all, the plumbers, builders, and conservationists will all cost a hefty amount of mora he doesn't know he can spare, not with the leaks in the right wing and the upgraded dorm construction that's already underway (it's not as if this isn't urgent, though, it's most certainly one of the more dire cases, however time-sensitive it is). it's been a while since he's applied for a loan, but maybe neuvillette could help him out, or maybe furina would even give him a free pass and tap into the treasury—

a splash.

“wrio?” his head quirks up again, this time because of the sudden nickname (unexpected, but not unwelcome), only to be met with the sound of a flick and something wet and salty on his face. he closes his eyes out of instinct, letting out a noise akin to a strangled gasp, spluttering on the water that sits on his skin as he hears you practically snort next to him.

your head is leaning against your free hand, brazenly smiling at the shocked look on his face — not the normal guilty look of a prankster, but the fact that your other hand still has water dripping off of it and that no playful seals are rippling underneath the blue leads him to the simplest conclusion he can think of.

“what was that for?”

to distract you, to make you feel better, because i wanted to — the explanations flood your head, but you respond by flicking him again, spraying small drops of saltwater back onto his face.

“your hair was just a bit messy, new haircuts tend to do that,” you stand up, reaching your hands up to fix his hair, ruffling your fingers where the black roots part on his scalp, swiping his cheek with the dry part of your wrist afterwards. your palm feels warm, despite how cold the water that settled on his skin felt, your nails grazing ever so softly against his temple, brushing one last time against the damp hair that lies on his forehead.

you step back, happy to see that his frown is indeed turned upside down (more like in complete shock, but you still count it), gently tapping his shoulder before you begin to make your way back through the hallway. “c’mon, let’s go talk to furina and neuvillette about this, i'm sure they'll get it fixed in no time if i'm there!”

his heart thumps loudly against his chest.

“why would it matter if you were there?”

the golden light from the lanterns reflects off of your jewelry as you turn back, a playful smile on your face. “they like me more, obviously.”

you lead the way, and after a moment of hesitation, he follows.

(he's not sure why, but in that moment, he thinks he might follow you anywhere you go.)

III.) COMMUNICATION ISSUES (SERIOUSLY, IS HIS FACE STUCK ON THE SAME SETTING?)

if there was one word you have to describe wriothesley, it'd be cold.

“hey, are you sure you’re not talking about yourself?”

his prison is far deep down in the sea where the sunlight doesn't touch, to say his personality is mysterious would be an understatement, and his cryo vision only seems to be a physical representation of his attitude.

“i feel like i could freeze in these temperatures myself.”

your nail leaves your mouth after the girl oh-so-rudely interrupts your musing — you turn your head to look at her — she’s being rather sarcastic for being someone who’s supposed to be here and comfort you, but you suppose that’s always been the way furina’s acted.

“you’re an archon,” the words escape your lips unceremoniously, “it’d be rather disappointing if you froze by a humble mortal’s stare.”

she both looks and behaves the same way you’ve known her ever since you walked into her palace at five years old, your eyes filled with wonderment at the destiny that awaited you if you chose to serve the archon the same way your parents and theirs had.

she has the decency to look worried, though, with her eyebrows furrowed in distress and the cerulean mixing with teal in both of her irises widening in concern. wriothesley’s eyes don’t look like hers, you think, hers are prettier by far, who would ever think—

“humble mortal’s glare.” she gives you a pointed look; you stick out your tongue before turning your head to face the copper that’s on your right.

you really wish you were looking out a window right now, perhaps a flower pot would be on the windowsill, with navy blue curtains tied neatly on the side? perhaps a bird would come to feed on the seed that lies outside, or a pretty nurse would be here to help tend to your wounds, but as much as you try to imagine it, the ugly red-orange of the metal stands out like a freak of nature in your eyes, reminding you just where you are.

“wriothesley and sigewinne should be here any moment,” furina places a hand on your shoulder, her gloves daintily patting it, “i think i’ll see myself around here — to check if your map is as correct as it could’ve been. i could fire you if it’s wrong, y’know!”

“don’t go near the cafeteria,” you sigh, staring forlornly at the wall, “you’d hate it.”

she blows a raspberry in your face, and you manage a snort, as much as you can without your stomach killing you.

knock knock.

your laughter halts immediately, and furina glances momentarily at the door; it swings open (rather rudely, you think, without much delay nor care) as wriothesley and sigewinne step through. his hair has grown ever so slightly since the last time you saw him, and the eyebags under his eyes are more prominent than usual, but still, he looks as handsome as ever.

“focalors,” wriothesley bows slightly in respect at his archon, sigewinne following his lead as furina curtsies back. the man spares a glance at you, only to be met with a bone-chilling glare that sends him facing furina immediately, a hospitable smile on his face.

“i’ll have deakin — not deakin—” he immediately corrects himself, “i’ll have chambodouc escort you through the fortress; sigewinne, i have something to discuss with the patient, are you free to take furina to the shop? wait outside when you’re done.”

sigewinne agrees happily, none the wiser to the daggers you pierce into wriothesley’s back with your eyes (either that, or she doesn’t care), skipping her merry way to chambodouc as your archon abandons you, trailing not too far behind. wriothesley sighs as he closes the door after them — your eyes watch consciously as he drags his body to pull the chair next to you out to sit down.

“are you alright?” he doesn't take the time to get comfortable, immediately on the edge of the seat with his back hunched, “do you feel too hurt anywhere?”

the stingrays that attacked you are far more forgiving than he is.

“no,” you say simply, “it aches, but sigewinne is masterful at her craft.”

he nods, rubbing his thumb against the ring on his pointer finger. there’s a second of silence that passes through, and for once, you think you might be able to enjoy a moment of peace to yourself, but the hunk of black and red decides to open his mouth again.

“…you really shouldn’t have been out there—”

you groan. “oh my god—”

“diving near here has always been known to be dangerous, something worse could’ve happened.”

“really? it’s almost like i was willing to take the risk, have you ever thought about that?”

he bristles. “you are in no position to be satirical right now—”

“and you are in no position to be here right now!”

the beat of silence comes again, but it’s heavier this time, too heavy for you to pretend that you could ever be at peace in your tawdry hospital bed in the fortress of meropide. you exhale, fluttering your eyelids closed as you muster up as much courage as you can before you ask him, “why are you here?”

at first, you thought you might’ve been looking into it too much — your ability to overthink is one of the reasons that furina hired you after all — and it honestly seemed like your relationship was fine before furina changed your schedule to something useful (in fact, it felt like you might even get closer to him), but he had gone radio silent ever since you stopped coming to the fortress regularly.

that’s why you’re surprised, you think.

you find yourself wondering if he’ll actually respond to your question, but by the way he remains silent, you’re afraid he might just get up from his seat and walk out. you shift, tilting your head down so that you meet his eyes; he almost jumps at the sudden movement, but he remains seated.

what kind of person do you have to be to ignore someone’s letters for weeks and show up at their injured bedside in the same breath?

how can he sit next to you with furrowed brows and concerned eyes when he asked neuvillette for your timetable so that you wouldn’t be in the palace when he went up there, not knowing you were just outside the office?

how could he practically reduce your relationship to what it was before furina assigned you down here?

“hey, did i do something to you?” you ask him bluntly, and his face falls in horror, “did i say something wrong? because if i did, you really should’ve just told me instead of—”

“no, no!” he waves his hands in a sort of protest, and he pauses, his lips wringing in hesitation, “you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“so what’s going on?”

the duke looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here, but he stays anyways. “i’m not avoiding you because of anything you did,” he utters his words slowly and meticulously, as if his entire reputation depends on them, “it’s my own shortcomings that are at fault.”

you blink.

“i don't have many…acquaintances outside the fortress, so i'm not exactly sure how to keep up with others,” his tone sounds strange — timid, even, “so when i got your letters, i kept holding it off because i wasn't confident i could say what i wanted to correctly.”

he continues, his posture unfitting of a duke, his shoulders hunched with shame. “it'd always be at the back of my mind as i did my duties, but it'd be far too late at that point to send one back without an excuse, which i didn't have. i never meant to make you wait for so long, it was just difficult for me to reply.”

your eye twitches. how has anything ever gotten done in the prison?

“so you thought it'd be better to just avoid me altogether?”

“i knew you'd be angry, rightfully, of course.” he tacks that last part as an offering of peace, a point of understanding he hopes you can connect.

“you do understand that i'd actually get angrier as you went longer with no reply, right?” you cross your arms, leaning back on the metal headboard of the hospital bed.

the man cocks his head to the side. “well, it makes sense now that you've said it.”

…okay, well now you feel bad. the cold warden of an even more unforgiving prison more resembles a man kicked to the side of the road, a solemn pout unconsciously playing on his lips as he practically sulks in his seat, and your heart melts for him just a little bit.

“so you were actually worried?”

“yes.”

“about me?”

“yes.”

“and you weren't avoiding me because you despise my presence?”

“of course not.” his answer is firm and definitive before he quickly adds, “but that doesn't mean you must forgive me, truly, i completely understand if you feel uncomfortable here, and we'll be sure to get you out as soon as—”

“it's okay, you don't have to keep apologizing.” the words escape your lips as you sigh in consolation, the relief washing over your body as you shift forward.

he nods, “…i really am sorry—”

“oh,” you joke, “be quiet.”

what you don't expect is for him to do exactly that, closing his mouth immediately as he stares at you in earnest.

if you weren't already so smitten with his eyes, you might find it creepy how bright they are — the wholeheartedness practically seeping into the pale hues. you feel heat crawl to the back of your neck, a heat that really only makes it's appearance when wriothesley gets close to you.

“let’s just start over and completely reset everything,” you fight back the incessant warmth, pulling your lips back into a tight smile, “clean slates.”

“…everything?” he echoes blankly, his eyes blinking in some sort of astonishment. he doesn’t want to reset everything, but he supposes he’s in no position to refuse if you want to, so he straightens his back, attempting to fix the frown that pulls from his lips. “alright, if that’s what you want.”

the seriousness in his expression makes your heart melt again, punching through it as if the past couple of minutes of your messy attempt to build your walls up again were mere seconds with toy blocks.

yeah, you think, maybe gauntlets are better.

“…are you going to the chasse this year?” you tilt your head.

his eyebrows furrow. “i typically don't attend those types of events.”

“it would be wonderful if you did,” you smile; you've only been this close to wriothesley once, but his face shrouded by the dark lighting of the broken-down corridor could hardly compete with the sight you see before you, “rumor has it that a rather lonely official would appreciate your presence.”

“oh?” a hesitant, faint smile appears on his lips (you wonder just how wide his grin could be—if it's a toothy smile you can imagine in your head, if his canines are as sharp as you think they might be), and he glances up at your eyes again, “and would you consider this rumor to be true?”

“you'd have to be there to validate my answer anyways, wouldn't you?”

his expression cracks again, his mouth curving up as a chuckle escapes his lips. “i guess i would.” his head naturally tilts as he laughs, but you can barely think of a response to the sound of his laughter echoing in your ear, your face surely hot enough to boil the ocean around you.

his laugh is so cute.

“your smile suits you well, monsieur.” you end up blurting out the words without thinking, a wavering lilt in your tone as you gaze up at him in some awestruck stupor.

his lips are so cute.

he seems to freeze at the compliment for just a moment, before he bows his head. “thank you.”

he’s so cute.

the man suddenly gets out of his chair, keeping his head low before he turns around, practically making a beeline for the door, “i think i hear sigewinne outside, actually, so i probably shouldn't keep her waiting — i'll see you at the chasse!”

with that, he slams the door behind him, leaving you staring wide-eyed in the empty room.

…did you offend him somehow? you blink back your confusion, hesitating for just a moment before you clear your throat in the silent air, deciding that waiting for the fortress’s nurse to tend to your wounds is probably the best course of action. your face is hot and your fingers burn as you move to smooth out the wrinkled sheets that lie on top of you before folding the edges back neatly, leaning back onto your pillows with a strangled sigh.

how embarrassing.

on the other side of the door, sigewinne curiously peers up at her duke. he hasn't moved since he barged out of the room, his back as stiff as a line, one of his hands still on the metal handle and the other attempting to cover the lower half of his face.

“wriothesley,” she asks innocently, “why are you so red?”

IV. ASSET JEWELRY (OH, A BROOCH? FOR ME?)

out of all of fontaine's cultural festivals, the chasse is probably your least favorite. you don't really find hunting all that appealing nor do you like fraternizing with rich nobles who’ve never worked a day in their life, so the entire event is pretty boring for the most part.

“are you looking for somebody?”

neuvillette peers curiously at you as you sigh, flopping back into the seat next to him.

”no,” you grumble delicately, the dejected pout on your face a clear indicator that you’re lying, “i’m just bored is all.”

“well, please let me know if there’s anything i can do to pique your interest,” the man smiles softly as he rests his head back on the seat, somewhat of a knowing glint in the purple of his eyes, “or if there’s somebody that i can point to help you out.”

your eye twitches.

you make an embarrassed noise at his comment, and he continues to smile as the two of you overlook the stragglers that trickle into the open forest.

there are lot of familiar faces that you can see socializing with each other amongst the crowd; lynette and emilie, for example, are sipping on tea on the east side with many of the other ladies, conversing amongst the buttered biscuits and board games.

navia and clorinde are in a different corner, dressed in pantsuits and equipping their hunting gear as they talk, and you can even see charlotte bouncing around lyney and the rest of the crowd with her trusty camera at her side — all of these familiar faces, and still, the one that had promised to show up hasn’t yet.

“i’ll be right back,” you announce as you stand up again, and your head swivels to the man sitting beside you, “you’re fine to announce the event without me, right?”

“please, go ahead,” neuvillette gives you a close-eyed smile (it’s almost suspicious how agreeable he’s being), taking another sip of his tea, “furina will be here any moment, so we’ll be fine without you.”

the sun glares in your eyes and the leaves from the trees barely make enough shadow to provide shade against the relentless heat, but there are less people back here, so you’re quite positive that no one will disturb you on your quick break—

you give him a swift nod before you make your way down the steps before immediately turning to head back towards the exit.

you contemplate making an honest run for the gate and leaving before anyone can stop you, but your duty to fontaine is important, even if it caters to a hunting competition you’ve never appreciated since your youth. so, you branch off, turning to an open clearing nearby instead.

a hand grabs your arm, pulling you back.

a barely disguised shriek leaves your lips as your elbow hits the chest of your attacker, and they let out a grunt in response. you come to a horrifying conclusion that that particular wall of a chest feels far more familiar than you’d like to admit.

“wriothesley?” you quickly turn around, your feet tangling themselves against the soft dirt, and he catches your shoulder quickly, your body steadying against his palm. you look up, and your eyes sparkle.

“hi,” he gives you a wry smile, “fancy seeing you here.”

the suit he wears is far more fitting for a rich duke than his usual dress uniform — a long hunting coat drapes over his broad shoulders, buckled at the very middle with gold accents, a red dress shirt peeking out from behind the fur. his hair is styled differently too, swept back to reveal his forehead, a few rebellious strands sitting near his eyebrow.

you feel warm, and you're acutely aware that it's not because of the sun.

your eyes make the mistake of darting to his palm, zeroing in on the rings that line his knuckles, the veins that run on his skin, his fingertips on the edge of your shoulder. he seems to notice, because he quickly releases you from his grasp.

“um,” you clear your throat, ducking your head down just a bit, “yeah, you too! i honestly didn’t think you’d show up.”

his eyes dart to the side. “of course i did,” he says casually, “you asked me to come, didn't you?”

your cheeks flush.

“i'm glad you did.” you bite the inside of your cheek, and your eyes fall on the sword by his hip. “will you be competing?”

“i will,” he nods, his hand resting on the hilt; it looks new sheathed behind it’s cover, like it’s never been used before, “are you?”

you laugh, the smile breaking through your lips, “no, i’ll just be spectating today. i’ve never been into hunting, even if they are just robots.”

his eyebrows raise in surprise, and he falters, shifting with something in the pocket beside his sword. “a-ah, well,” he almost looks embarrassed underneath the sweltering sun, a sheepish grin on his face, “i guess that makes this useless, then.”

he pulls a small jewelry box from his pocket before carefully clicking it open, revealing a beautiful brooch in the middle. it’s the same deep red that’s the color of his suit, cut and polished, pinned and soldered to a golden casing, an intricate floral pattern fanning out past the gem. “i had hoped to wish you luck,” he admits, “i hope you still accept it.”

if you weren’t warm before, you surely are now.

giving jewelry to someone during the chasse was never just a tradition of good luck, no, it signified interest too. the novels that furina reads flood back into your head ー multiple women begging the crown prince to accept their charms, one girl accepting her lover’s and going on to win ー the flush on your face gets deeper, it’s so hot you might burn.

“this is how i know that you’re supposed to go outside more,” your voice comes out unnaturally high-pitched, “nobody has been trading jewelry for many years now.”

he hums. “i know,” he delicately takes the brooch out, clicking the box shut. he puts it back in his pocket, before he delicately grabs your hand, placing the jewel on your palm. it’s cool against the fire you feel on your skin at his touch, and he gently closes your fingers over it, making a fist. “i’m a romantic at heart. and, furina’s recommended your favorite books to me.”

of course furina is behind this.

you can hear a horn blaring from a distance, a sign that the event is about to start.

“can i confess something?”

you blink, and you look at him curiously. “sure?”

it blares again.

with the swift rush of the breeze that wafts past you, he leans down, his lips right next to your ear, his jaw tilted towards yours. “i’m only competing because i thought you would be as well,” his tone is soft and deep, “secretly, i hoped that i’d be receiving a piece of jewelry from you too.”

he steps back, and he gives you another smile. that’s two, you think. “since i’m not, though, please take care of that for me — if you cheer me on, i’ll be sure to win!”

with that, he walks away, the horn sounding a final time with a thunderous roar of applause. there’s a faint sound of neuvillette welcoming the diplomats, but if you’re being completely honest, you can’t hear a single thing behind the hot ringing in your ears. as wriothesley walks away, your thumb brushes against the jewel.

the forests of fontaine have always been beautiful, despite the random treasure hunter group or fatui members here or there, so you’re glad to be able to reconnect with the greenery after spending so much time in the city.

you think he might be prettier.

V.) A SOFT SPOT FOR THE FEMALE LEAD (WAIT, WHAT?)

if there was one word you could use to describe wriothesley, it’d be cold.

he’s aloof on good days and almost mean on bad days, his reputation is lower than the ground where the fortress of meropide resides, and his undoubtedly dark past leaves him closed off from the rest of the world.

he is…sweet, though.

“madame,” he taps on your shoulder, and you’re greeted with a different suit than the one he bore during the competition. it still looks exquisite on him, the long cape trailing past his tall legs, a tight navy vest hugging his chest, “what are you doing out here?”

“monsieur,” you smile teasingly as you set your wine glass down on the edge of the balcony. the moon is high in the sky now, the cold chill of fontaine’s atmosphere clear against the breeze, “i just needed a break from the festivities is all.”

he nods. “it’s pretty hectic in there, you made a good decision coming out here.” he exhales softly, closing his eyes, “...it did make it harder to find you, though. i was looking for you all night.”

when did wriothesley become such a natural flirt?

“i apologize,” you smile sheepishly, shifting your body to the side to allow more space, “here, feel free to join me!”

he accepts your invitation with a small smile, resting his arms against the stone, his head lying close to yours.

“congratulations on winning the hunt, by the way,” you play with your fingers, “seriously, i don’t think anyone stood a chance against you.”

“i admit that the sword was pretty cool.” his smile grows wider as he stares at the trees in the garden of the palais mermonia.

“i knew it!” you exclaim, nudging his shoulder in excitement, “gauntlets couldn’t have scored half of the points you got with a sword.”

“half is pushing it,” he snorts, and he looks down, his arm moving just a bit closer to yours, “besides, i had some motivation.”

you flush, becoming increasingly hyperaware of the brooch that you wear proudly on your dress. “i’m pretty good with a sword, y’know,” you inhale, “i could always teach you more sometime.”

“i’d like that,” he glances up at you, his blue eyes staring holes into you, half-lidded against the brightness of the moon, “it’d be nice to meet with you outside of official business.”

“we can call it non-official, then,” you smile innocently, “as long as furina doesn’t know.”

he chuckles lowly, and you can’t help but follow him, copying his movements.

it’s silent for a moment with both of your heads rested on your arms, a cool breeze ruffling through your clothing as the party rages on inside. your voice comes out soft, almost a whisper that gets carried on with the rest of the night, “can i confess something?”

he perks up. “sure.”

“i would’ve accepted your brooch in a heartbeat if i wasn’t so shocked,” the embarrassment crawls up your neck, onto the tips of your nose, “even so, the only thing that i was thinking about was rushing back home and finding one to give to you.”

it’s like the atmosphere warms up with the way his eyes light up, and if you look closely, you can see a faint red that brushes against his cheeks.

“i’m happy that you reciprocate,” his smile is smug, despite the blush that threatens fire on his body as he leans in closer, a teasing look in his eyes, “if you’d like, we can rush right back to your home right now.”

“why, youー!” you gasp in mock offense, hitting his shoulder. he practically cackles at his joke, and you glower, “you’re dangerous.”

“for you, i’ll try not to be.”

his finger interlocks with yours absentmindedly, and he grins as the music begins again, “would you spare a dance with me tonight?”

the live orchestra plays live in the background warms up their instruments as guests begin to get into their places in the middle ー he leads you easily from your spot on the balcony, one hand on your shoulder, the other on your waist.

the duke may be cold, but he makes you feel a fervor unknown to anybody else.

“it would be my honor.”

wriothesley grew up around danger; his childhood was constantly filled with the fear of people who lurked behind dark corners, his teenage years spent fighting to reverse the system that was once used to punish him. he’ll try to be the least dangerous that he can be (although he’s pretty sure that’s not the danger you were talking about), and for you, he’ll endeavor to do his best.

much like the letters that he’ll continue to send you, he seals his pledge it with a kiss.

SIGHS. thank u for reading if youve made it this far!! wriothesley responding to letters is me w/ my texts 👎👎 fuck online communication that shit is unnatural

Tags :

wriothesley fluff wriothesley x reader fluff wriothesley x you wriothesley x reader genshin impact x reader genshin fluff genshin x reader

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herstxrgirl

1 year ago

stop making fanfics about characters raping and sexually assaulting y/n, you are fucking disgusting people who romanticize a serious crime that happens every day to children and women

"but that's just reading dark romance" that's not a dark romance, that's just the stuff of a horrible fetish, IF YOU HAVE A RAPE FETISH, GO SEEK FOR FUCKING PSYCHIATRIST HELP!!!!!!!!!!

Tags :

you guys are gross ew ew ew genshin headcanons genshin impact genshin x reader genshin hcs honkai star rail honkai star rail x reader hsr x reader neuvilette fanart neuvilette genshin neuvilette x reader wriothesley wriothesley x reader zhongli x reader headcanons ; angst genshin angst honkai star rail x you star rail aventurine x reader leon kennedy simon ghost riley ghost ghost x reader leon kennedy x reader blade x reader dr ratio x reader sunday x reader jing yuan x reader

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tojifangrl

1 year ago

😜😜

「 ### : 」 Modern AU ish !! Reader’s weight/size/etc. is not mentioned !! Imo Wrio is strong as fuck, so it literally doesn’t matter how much you weigh because this mf will have you sit on his back while he does push ups and will come out invigorated and wanting to do like 20 more, but this is a warning just in case it breaks your immersion !!

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

Wriothesley wraps his arms around your middle, tugging you in close so you’re pressed up against his chest. You fight back the urge to melt into his warmth and give in to his ridiculous request. The cheeky smile he wears —undoubtedly aware of the effect he has on you— makes you grit your teeth and steel yourself out of pure spite.

“Sweetheart,” he coos, honey sweet and trying to be convincing.

“Wriothesley. No.”

“Sweetheart, baby,” he tries again, leaning to murmur it in your ear— the unfair, cheating shit. You’re not sure if you want to punch him or kiss his stupid face. “Love of my life. Person I’m gonna marry. Apple of my eye. Snookums—“

“Shut your mouth.” But he does not, and you’re on the verge of strangling him.

“Honey. Pookie bear.“ He grins, holding you tighter so you’re subject to listening to all the stupid ass nicknames he can call you. “My little discord kitten—“

At the sheer cringe and secondhand embarrassment, you slap a hand over his mouth with a grimace. It works, kind of. Wriothesley’s barrage of nicknames is silenced, but you can practically feel his smirk against your palm. You’re painfully aware of the firm but gentle hold he still keeps on you— painfully aware of how you’re probably fighting a losing battle when he’s this dead set on something.

“I am not going to sit on your back while you do push ups,” you say, and that smirk melts into a pouty little frown. “I already told you it’s dangerous. You could get hurt or something.”

He pulls your hand off his mouth by the wrist, expression looking less-than-pleased. “Sweetheart, if you think that I can’t lift you, then I must be doing something terribly, terribly wrong.”

“But if you’re worried about me, then how about this—“ he presses your hand to his cheek, holding it there with his own so he can lean into your touch and peck a quick kiss to your palm. “You sit on my back while I do my routine, but if you ever think that I’m pushing myself or I’m getting tired, then you can hop off and go back to what you were doing, okay?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, but in the end you’re weak to him when he’s this sweet to you, and all you can do is sigh a small, ‘fine.’ If it makes him happy, then why the hell not—

And later, with Wriothesley in that unfairly flattering black compression shirt and you sat on his back, you absolutely eat your words. You can only sit in silent shock and hardly hidden appreciation when the man goes through more than half of the reps for his first set.

“Holy shit,” you murmur, watching in astonishment how he easily pushes up with your combined weight, not a single muscle trembling in overexertion. He’s not at all rushed, taking his time with each upwards lift so as to not jostle you. Wriothesley can hear the awe in your voice, and has the audacity to chuckle. He’s not even breathless.

“What did I say, sweetheart?” He sounds smug, proud— undoubtedly delighted to be able to show off in front of you. Like a puppy who was told he did a good job. You kind of want to kiss him. “So, want to help me out tomorrow, too?”

Tags :

wriothesley x reader

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aryansquibbles

1 year ago

Biker wriothesley

Tags :

wriothesley wriothesley x reader art artists on tumblr digital aritst my art original art digital illustration small artist artwork queer artist art community genshin impact genshin fanfic genshin imagines genshin fanart sketch art genshin x reader so yummy

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lovebugdrabbles

1 year ago

Wriothesley Headcanons n$4w vers

notes: i need readers to please go into this believing bro is 35 years of age MINIMUM. or u won't get my VISION. also, my tags are messy bc it's my first time posting my writing on tumblr so just pretend ik how to tag my writing.

warnings: n$4w obvs, 1k words, untitled sentences for the aesthetic, semi-lit, i do use apostrophes, shortened words/abbreviations, i want him in a muzzle so that's mentioned, inappropriate use of handcuffs, i mention he gets rough, i write him as a sweetie pie lowkey tho, tbh it’s a little vanilla, i made a joke abt being ford tough and i feel that warrants a warning, biting, pet name ‘doll’ used, (brief mention) ass slapping , (brief mention) hair pulling, i call him a teddy bear a couple times, (mentioned) slight manhandling, i get a little too into imaging him subby, oops, i also get a bit caught up in soft dom wriothesley,

now playing |◁ II ▷| ‘doin time’ by sublime

methinks he's defff vers/switch but will fully let a partner take over or will take control himself. i don't believe he's picky in this department for a moment. i think he might prefer dom however his dom side has limits.

i bet he's sooo vocal. letting every little grunt and moan out. word vomits too. whatever he’s thinking, his partner will hear it.

big softie. idc. he is a SWEET MAN. 'love should be warm' headass.

so many pet names for his partner. doll, baby, baby-doll, babe, sweetheart, hon/honey. but doll or sweetheart r his faves.

using his title in bed makes him melt.

like i don't think he's malicious in bed. like truly. he seems teddy-bearish to me but i could be looking thru rose colored glasses i must say.

he's def a bit rough tho but i think it'd be in a playful way. there is times he’d get too into the moment and grab on a bit too tight to a thigh or the hair he's running a hand thru or snap his hips a little too hard but he doesn't mean to and will apologize immediately and try to make it up to a partner or even stop mid-session to make sure the other party is alright.

not opposed to using the cuffs if a partner asks. on him or his partner. but he needs enthusiastic consent before or he won't do it.

i do think he’s actually rlly good abt asking for consent to do things tho. but he does it in a way that it feels like part of sex and not just asking for permission ‘you like that?’, ‘you wanna keep going, doll?’ ‘wanna keep taking me?’ but he will make said doll use their words or he won’t keep going. mans is a whore for hearing a partner beg or ask him to do something and he's not above it either.

he seems like the type to wanna hold hands while going at it. like if his hands can reach his partners they are intertwined or at least touching. a pinkie wrapped around the other at the very least. he feels closer and just… better with it

y'all know the shirt that says 'warning this bitch bites' he needs it. will leave marks that last for days and absolutely loves if a partner does it too. but he does feel a bit guilty after especially if it's a hard bite so will pepper kisses on them after.

seeing his bite marks on a partner drives him crazy tho. like, makes him stop in his tracks and wakes up smth in him like a sleeper agent.

kisses thru-out the ordeal soz u can pry this from my cold dead hands. he feels a little guilty if he isn't kissing a hand, a clavicle or any piece of skin he can delicately place a smooch on occasionally when he's not biting ofc.

additionally: my brain has been occasionally FOGGED w thoughts of him in a muzzle. i'm drooling rn actually. i think he'd have a love-hate relationship with it since he wouldn't be able to kiss or bite a partner but he absolutely bends at a partner’s will when they tug on the bars and that's the best part for him

honestly i don't think he'd be comfortable going much harder than what i've mentioned. maybe he'd allow a few slaps on the ass but idk just seems out of character imo. being rough and tumble is for work and the ring and i think he'd keep it that way.

i did say he's a switch/vers so it's time to talk abt both sides of the coin :))))

when he's in a particularly subby mood; he's pathetic. a complete mess of a man.

its so satisfying to see a guy so high in power just groveling to someone.

i bet he looks at a partner w the biggest puppy dog eyes, mumling the softest and breathiest pleases, his hair all tousled and falling over his face. he thinks he's willing to do anything a partner orders him to do atp.

especially interested in peppering kisses on a partner when he's in this mood. nuzzling and sighing as he wraps his arms around his partner and smooches.

this is the time he is very much not opposed to the handcuffs on him.

i think he'd asked to be praised or called a good boy on these nights. i don't make the rules.

this is when he gets vocal. whimpering included too.

but the facade almost immediately drops when aftercare starts.

on the topic of a dom wriothesley; honestly i dont see him getting into the rough dom role but staying more of a soft dom and being very comfortable there.

that is where the word vomit happens, talking a partner through it all when he's in this mood, telling them how good they feel, they're being so good, or to quiet down despite being a bit noisy himself but that's what his biting is for.

moaning into every bite. teeth marks and hickeys covering a partner the next morning leading to that system overload i touched on earlier.

willing to try more positions when he's in this mood fs but he truly believes you cant go wrong w the classics. *cough cough* missionary

this is when he gets real into it and loses himself in the moment like i mentioned earlier. hips bucking and hands reaching to hold onto a partner like they'll escape.

he gets a little bit rougher but its still not in a mean way more in a 'oh yeah? watch this.' type way. pulling a partner closer of man handling them to hold their hips in a better position.

occasionally those pet names get a very adamant 'my' in front of them.

i think this is when his most comfortable area of aftercare comes in but not before one last thing.

he'd like to stay holding a partner for a bit afterwards, letting everyone regain their bearings before hopping into aftercare mode if he was the one in control.

aftercare on top tho. tea, running a bath, helping a partner bathe if they so want, helping a partner get dressed if they're super sore, massages, just all out pampering, especially if he gets a little rough.

he equally enjoys reciving aftercare but is hesitant bc he says he's fine or he's built tough. BUILT FORD TOUGH. sorry idk where that came from and he is but the guy needs to let a partner take care of him sometimes.

the 'love is supposed to be warm' line weighs heavy on me if u cant tell. he's just a teddy bear :(( ugh i'll sob.

la fin !

end notes: tysm for reading the ravings of a madman !! i've had so many random ass thoughts abt him since playing the story quests lmfao and i wanted to get out of my fluffy/horror writing comfort zone so i wrote basically what i think he's like in bed jsjsjs. i may be posting some stuff on boothill from honkai star rail but it'll probably be more rambling just about robotics and prosthesis for now if i post. if i don't post that i'm wrapping up a wriolette fic soon and that will be up here or on my ao3 under the same user !! till next timeee

Tags :

wriothesely genshin genshin imagines wriothesley headcanon wriothesley wriothesley x reader wriothesley x you ns4w n$4w n$fw genshin impact wriothesley headcanons wriothesley genshin wriothesley x gn reader ok funnies hidden in tags just one night pls ur grace i am begging i'll do what ever you want babygirl

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lovebugdrabbles

1 year ago

reblogging since we didn’t get a rerun announcement 💔💔

please just let him run again pleaseee hoyo