MAKING THEM WHIMPER

"Wrio."

"Mm."

You try to shake his shoulder, the task made infinitely more difficult by the fact that his entire body weight was crushing you to the bed. All those stupid muscles he has (and that you normally admired quite a bit) betraying you into staying for just a bit longer.

"Wriothesley," You hiss, still trying to nudge the sleeping man off of you.

"Oh, pulling out the government names now, are we, sweetheart?" The bastard murmurs into your shoulder, voice raspy from sleep. His cheeky grin brushes the skin and makes goosebumps erupt on your flesh.

You try to fight him off now, less worried about startling him now that he's clearly awake and clearly making a point to not move. If anything, Wriothesley's arms curl tighter around you, making you wheeze. For the second time in the span of five minutes, you curse him and those stupid muscles of his.

"Wrio, get off me, you ass," you growl, squirming in his hold, but he just chuckles. "I told Sigewinne I'd make pancakes with her. You're going to make me late!"

His head pops up then. Bleary eyes meet yours, and you're close enough to see how the color shifts between grey, blue and green in the light of the room. You've always had trouble pinpointing the exact shade of his eyes and now is no exception. The shift of colors has always struck you as beautiful, has always managed to capture your attention.

"How cold-hearted of you to want to leave me over a stack of pancakes. I should have you thrown in prison for that."

You snort, managing to uncurl on of his arms from around your body, getting to work on the other. "As if–– we both know you're gonna snatch some of them up, dearest."

"Well, I won't deny it."

The moment you get free of his hold, you roll out of the covers and the bed, dodging Wriothesley's grip with practices ease. He playfully scowls at you from under the sheets, looking like a maligned puppy.

As you walk out the door in your pajamas, you blow him a kiss that he catches with one hand. You laugh. "I'm eating your share if you take too long to get up, dearest!"

Just before you lose sight of him, you catch sight of the middle finger he flashes you from under the covers as well as his soft, fond smile.

ahhh just some wanderer brain rot not proofread!! and reader wears a skirt :3

"be quiet... and stay still." he whispers as you squirm a bit in your place. he has you sitting on his lap facing him in the library of the sumeru akademiya, the house of daena, while he's working on his vahumana papers. the few passerbys simply think that you're both just a cute couple that wanted to be near each other at all times. little do they know you're actually cockwarming him. thankfully, your skirt had enough length to cover up the truth of it all. "why do i have to do this again?" you ask him, "because it help me focus, now hush." he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you even closer to him, resting his chin on your shoulder to peak over and read the text written on his papers.

whenever someone is nearby, he'd tease you by lifting your hips up a bit and thrusting up. it takes every fiber of your being to hold back that moan, archons, why does he always have to hit that one spot at the perfect angle each time too? and whenever you clench around him, he lets out quiet groans directly into your ear. sometimes even with a small whimper, calling you a tease and all that. if you were being good throughout it all, rest assured that you'll get a reward from him right after that. oh he's gonna fuck you sooo good, don't you worry.

Who needs a aesthetic theme when i can be mentally insane instead

#taking off your ring in the middle of a fight

–pretty self-explanatory// this can also mean a promise ring or engagement ring that they gave to you

CHARACTERS. Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Cyno, Diluc, Il Dottore, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Tighnari, Xiao, Zhongli; gn! Reader

THEMES. angst, arguments, slight crack on one of them (guess who), most has no comfort, some has comfort

NOTES. i haven’t been posting multi-hc’s have i? well, here yall go~

ZHONGLI, at first, failed to notice it until he opened his eyes and turned your way.

It was just an argument, all couples do have one. All normal relationships have such situations, after all. Yet it was beyond him to see the band over the table, where you had just been moments ago, only to leave him to ponder with his thoughts all alone.

He quickly turns and follows you to wherever you might’ve gone, “love?” he calls out with a full voice? “Love?” And a broken one after that when he sees you on the bed, folding clothes on your own.

“Are you… leaving?” He hesitated, clearing his throat and prompting you to look up and meet his eyes.

He braces himself for your answer, brave enough to accept your answer, whatever it may be. He wouldn’t stop you—you have every right to leave, after all.

“What? No, of course not, what made you think-” then your gaze trails down to your fingers upon seeing the ring on his palm, instantly reaching out and taking it from him, “Oh-was that? I was only… I took it off because I had to wash my hands to fold the clothes.” You slowly explained, realizing the intention behind his question as you do so.

“Oh, beloved… I am never leaving you,” you stood up and he was the one who stepped forward and received you in his arms, wrapping you and him sighing out heavily once he felt your body against his.

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

XIAO felt the way his knees buckled as he zeroes into your hands, now holding onto the ring that was once wrapped around one of your fingers. That same ring that he had created out of the love from the depths of his heart, a ring that symbolized not only his feelings but also his pledge to never sever the bond you have.

Did you not… want it anymore?

Keep reading

Neuvi wanna go for a ride?

Masterlist !

⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ YOUR LOVE IS SO ORDINARY.. ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅

≧ ≦ JJK masterlist ≧ ≦ PLACEHOLDER masterlist

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More coming soon ^^

Wriothesley can hear your loud stomps from a mile away as you furiously speed-walk to his office door like a bloodhound trailing a scent. Even if not for that, the way that you bang your fist on the door is enough to grab his attention.

"WRIOTHESLEY." Comes booming in from the other side of the door. It's thick wood. He wonders how deaf he would have gone if the door hadn't protected him. The door (the thick, supposedly impenetrable door) rattles on its hinges like a screen in a hurricane when you try to kick it again. "DID YOU EAT MY DONUTS."

It's not even an accusation at that point. It's practically a declaration of war.

"WRIOTHESLEY!" You yell so loudly a group of gardes turning the corner down the hall scramble back the way they came. "Open up, jackass!"

Wriothesley, knowing he cannot escape the consequences of his actions, merely settles deeper into his chair as he drinks his tea. His last meal. Drink. Similar thing.

The door keeps rattling as you yell profanities at him, until one of his traitorous gardes approaches you hesitantly, saying not a single word but offering up the spare key to his office with shaky hands, head low and aggressively avoiding eye contact.

"Oh!" you say, demeanor switching immediately, losing the intimidating glint in your eye as you gingerly take the key. You smile kindly. "Thank you very much!"

Then you turn back to the door, the threat of violence in your eye as you wield the key like a weapon of war, inserting it into the keyhole and twisting it with a dark finality. The garde wonders if they should fear for their superior's wellbeing.

Wriothesley looks up from his newspaper as you close the door ominously behind you, somehow maintaining a blasé facadé even while staring down certain death.

"Well?" you prompt him, eye twitching like a stressed villain from a kid's cartoon show. You round on him in an instant, too quick for him to escape. Somehow, he keeps up his poker face. "Care to explain where my donuts went, Duke of Meropide?"

"I didn't eat them," He deadpans, staring you right in the eye. He pointedly does not acknowledge the white powdered sugar on his face.

"There's white powdered sugar on your face."

"Ah. So there is."

Another cartoony villain eye twitch. "Want to try that again?"

"...I love you?"

"And I love you. Last chance, though."

And he folds like a lawn chair. Wriothesley knows this is a fight he can't win. Even Neuvillette would tell him it's best to just kick the bucket and plead guilty at this point. He sighs breaking eye contact first like a wolf with its tail between its legs.

"Okay, I'll buy you another dozen of them."

You cross your arms, staring at him. He sighs.

"Another two dozen."

You soften just the slightest bit, coming close to perch on his lap and lean into his space. Instinctively, his arms come to wrap around your middle, pulling you against him.

"And?"

Wriothesley leans forward too, enough for your foreheads to touch. You can feel the breath of his sigh against your lips.

"And you have my sincerest apologies for taking your things. In my defense, I thought they were mine at first.”

“Apology accepted,” you say, satisfied, and peck him quickly on the lips. Before it can turn into anything else though, you’re springing up from his lap. Ignoring the disappointed furrow in his brow and the way his arms have still not moved from their position holding you earlier, you take his hand and pull him up from his chair with such startling enthusiasm and surprising strength that it has him stumbling for a second. You pull him towards the door regardless.

“C’mon, you’re making good on that apology right now, Wrio! Hope you finished your work!”

And no, technically he hasn’t finished his work. But he already knows that you’ve got him wrapped around your finger, and that pushing that work to tomorrow wouldn’t hurt. Probably. Whatever— it’d be worth it.

So he just sighs and gives the palm resting in his a squeeze and let’s himself be pulled along. You squeeze back.

“As long as you let me have a few. Those were pretty good.”

Junpei doodles because I love him so much and I too am a horror nerd

the simplicity of his love.

Softie!Megumi x Reader

summary: everyday life with Megumi

WARNINGS: downbad Megumi ꒰ᐢ. ̫ .ᐢ꒱꒰ᐢ. ̫ .ᐢ꒱

Word count : 500 (I.... somehow wrote exactly 500 words...? I think essay writing's been starting to have it's toll on me (╥﹏╥)....)

a/n: I haven't posted in a few months, so please take this that i scrapped together in an hour as a apology. It somehow feels so much better than the one I spent hours on, though.....

I've been diagnosed with a few blood issues, so I've been in and out of the hospital for a while. I'm on more meds, but I'm now back to writing again....!!!! Thank you for your patience!!!!!

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Despite the fact that he’s almost always busy, he still goes to the florists’ every month. He’s been there so much, in fact, that to make it easier for him, the old lady that worked there would always leave the flowers he always bought outside, so he wouldn’t need to trudge all over the store, trying to find those damned pink flowers you liked so much. 

He bids farewell to the old lady again with a curt nod, making sure to leave an extra big tip this time.

He gently plucks a single flower out from the bouquet and makes sure to drop it into a vase by his bed once he gets home so that he knows to buy you new flowers once the one in his vase starts to wilt. 

He won’t admit it, but whenever he starts to miss you, he gazes upon that singular stalk sitting in his blue vase. It starts to remind him more and more of you, the way that the flowers bloomed and even the way the flower smelled - you’re constantly plaguing his mind. 

He loves you, and he loves you so much.

You’re the only flower he cares for, the most beautiful, the most delicate,the most precious, your touch is like a heavenly blessing to him and your eyes have that soft feel to them.

He’d be lying if he said that it wasn’t starting to affect him. Your scent is starting to linger in his house, in his living room, on that book you’d grabbed absentmindedly while he was in the shower, on his pillows and sheets you had insisted “felt way softer”. He looks at you with that same soft gaze, one that was filled with love and respect.

He didn’t appear to others as a softie, because that was only for you to see. A special side of him that he had kept behind closed doors, doors that only you can open.

Period pain? He’s already shown up to your door, drenched from the rain, bags of painkillers, snacks and heating pads in hand. 

You’ve called him at 1am again, muttering something incomprehensible about your nightly cravings of mac and cheese? I know, he says over the phone, voice still groggy. He tells you about a whole bowl he left in the fridge while he was at your house. 

You got sick? He leaves behind everything that he had been doing, and rushes to your apartment with medicine from the pharmacy and homemade chicken noodle soup. He raises a spoonful of the soup and you swallow it all, nuzzling your face into his hand. He sighs, feeling how warm you are, but doesn’t protest. Everything is silent as he gently runs his fingers through your hair, watching it ripple like a waterfall. No words were being exchanged, but the concern in his eyes spoke more than words could’ve ever.

“Ughh. I love you so much.”

“....you’re just trying to stall from taking your medicine again, aren’t you…..?”

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

「 ### : 」 reader knows how to paint nails !! Established relationship <3 ya this is inspired by that one reel i saw on my feed and saved to my notes haskdjnajs

You're so focused, Wriothesley thinks. You're seated across his work desk, hand holding his and the other being oh so careful with the brush of black nail polish that you're painting his nails with.

"Black polish is such a pain," you had groaned to him earlier. "Like, it looks good and anyone can rock it, but you have to be so careful to not fuck up because the black will make it so obvious, you know?"

Wriothesley did not, in fact, know. Your nails had always looked well-painted to him to the point that he used to think that you would get them professionally done. Whatever color they were, black or blue or red, or with some intricate designs or stickers, your nails always looked cleanly done. Clearly, they were not for any lack of effort, either.

He had done his best to be a model client (?) the entire time you've been doing his nails. You were so focused on your job, scrutinizing frown on your face as you worked, and he would hate to be the reason to mess up all your hard work. But he can't deny how smitten he was with you in the moment, all your attention on him (his hands, technically.) He just really really wants to kiss you right now.

Like you hear his thoughts, you just about finish one of the coats of polish and look up at his face, a small smile on your own. If you're surprised by how he's looking at you, if you're wondering how long you've caught his attention, you don't let it show.

"Hi," you tell him, not wanting to disrupt the peaceful quietude of his office.

Wriothesley grins. In as equally a small voice: "Hey."

You gaze at him inquisitively, and his eyes never leave your face. "You okay? Bored already?"

"'m not bored," he chuckles with a smile. "I just like looking at your face is all."

It's your turn to chuckle, glancing away from him bashfully as you dip the brush back into the polish. "Mm. That so?"

Wriothesley hums, the curve of his smile growing wider when he sees you get flustered. "Mmhm. You're nice to look at. And I like looking at you."

And oh you have to will your hand not to shake as you keep painting his nails. You have to will your palms not to sweat, you have to will your eyes to not tear up at how sweet the bastard in front of you is.

"You can't just say that while I'm trying to focus," you whine to him, still too shy to look him in the eye, trying to divert your attention back to your work at hand. "If I fuck up your nails, it's gonna be your fault, Wrio."

"Sorry, sorry," he says, not sounding very sorry at all. "I'll be sure to let you know how much I love you after you do my nails, sweetheart."