#Advise For Wives to-be

[betterlifeinoverall-rethabilep]

Princess Doesn't Cry

Princess Doesn’t Cry

Currently at the Princess mode; ready to be in the process of being Queen; They said neither Queen nor King can put herself on the throne; Hence, without putting the crown on myself, I prepare to rule my Kingdom like the royalty blood would; I unceasingly obey all the royalty rules to become the sane Queen with the endless royalty love. Notably, I step into royalty seat with more head held high,…

[fourthwifematerial]

garden of forking paths | 四 | part i. guilty

yandere lord tengen x fourth wife, eiji. word count: 7,077. explicit content. 18+ MDNI

man proposes, heaven disposes.

please be mindful of the ample warnings as we're all responsible for curating our own fandom experience✌️ this chapter contains ultimatums & coercion of an intimate nature, deception, forced marriage, dubious consent on all fronts, foreplay, degradation, consummation & deflowering, forced orgasms, self harm (not in the way you might be thinking) & scarification, nonsexual voyeurism, an off screen rape & accompanying aftermath, murder, threats of suicide, and a very apologetic author for taking on another behemoth when she still has works in progress

She’s never worn a piece so fine as her sister’s wedding kimono. 

Bathed in white, the shiromuku settles heavily on her body and soul… A chilling wave passes through her as she stares herself down in the mirror. Crown to cunt, settling deep in her gut. Her nerves are at a fever pitch, threatening to boil over and lash out at any moment.

She hardly recognizes the woman staring back at her. Hardly an easy feat for one such as Eiji. The heavens saw fit to bring flesh to her reflection, one she was forced to protect their whole lives.

On their worst days, Emiko was more her charge than blood. A painful reality for the younger of the two. Years spent in her shadow, ready to strike those that would see her harmed. For flowers so lovely as the twins, it was ugly work in the Red Light District.

No. Her looks were always a matter of contempt rather than ignorance. The bride is abundantly aware of what she looks like.

The palette, however, is new.

A traditional visage for a traditional bride. Something the girls at the brothels were never granted beyond the realm of a marriage born from ashinuke or a buyout.

She couldn’t give into the temptation to touch. She wouldn’t risk damaging the canvas, eyes and lips painted as they were.

There was little need for it before all this. It wasn’t something she ever envied or missed. The closest she came to seeing herself with a full face was her sister. 

Still. Not a trace of either sibling in the looking glass.

Eiji has never looked so beautiful. Nor as frightened.

Even through the beads of sweat lining her temples, she was grateful for the katsura wig concealing her sparse hairs. Remnants of her days in the Sisterhood, her cut had yet to grow past her ears. Her keeper was generous enough to postpone the marriage until after their wounds had healed.

It wouldn’t do for the ruse to end on such a glaring oversight. 

The pins adorning the piece look costly. Too extravagant for one as modest as Sister Eiji. Hazarding a guess, it looked to be worth more than a month’s wages at the brothel.

Cocking her head to the side, her eyes catch on the embroidered flowers that rest upon the uchikake. The sharp angles and thorns give birth to a dangerous suggestion.

“Not enough…”

She gives voice to the intrusive thought before thinking better of it. Seppuku is on the girl’s mind, though she’s not fool enough to follow through. Would that she could and spare herself the devastation of this whole affair.

A delicate touch presses on her shoulder. It’s soft, but there’s an edge… as if the owner doesn’t have the strength for a proper scolding.

“Remember what this is for,” breathes a hushed voice of admonishment. “If I’m to marry him, I’ll never forgive you.”

Standing vigil is her better half. Wrapped in more fabrics than she’s accustomed; her kimono a muted black, with what little she has left of her once prized locs concealed under a zukin. The wimple is an unassuming periwinkle. Nearly so blue as the virgin snow.

While Eiji might dance with the idea, Emiko has every intention of bedding it. Neither sister needs the reminder… 

Even once more and I’ll die. By my own hand if need be.

The threat lingers unspoken between them. Emiko draws back her hand, holding the wataboshi with a white knuckled grip to match. Placing the bridal hood upon her sister’s head, she collects herself with a sniff. 

They meet each other’s gazes in the mirror, color on their lids nearly matching at this point. While one wore rouge, the other bore far less intent. Her eyes are red rimmed from endless days and nights spent sobbing. The anger and resentment, the fear, the loathing—it’ll end her life before the blade has a chance to. 

Placing the bridal hood upon her sister’s head, Emiko nods in approval.

“You’re ready.” Her voice is broken, still shot from the fight. 

Drying the twin tracks running down her cheeks, she lets her go.

No processional. No one to give her away. No tears in tribute.

She doesn’t even see their betrothed until the purification rites. 

For as taboo as it sounds, she doesn’t consider Lord Uzui to be her husband. All the same, she’ll take her sister’s place as his lady wife. She has no choice, not if she wants to keep her alive and unmolested.

It’s all she can do to keep her sister in her prayers as she draws water into the chouyuza’s ladle, washing their sins clean. Twice, in as many hishaku, before rinsing her mouth with a third.

Uzui works himself over in silent tandem. Much as she’s loath to admit it, his refined montsuki haori and golden hakama make the man striking… gorgeous, even. His starlight hair was worn up when last she saw him. And now it rests, barely grazing his broad shoulders. 

This is the closest she’s been to someone of the opposite sex who wasn’t a client. He hardly made a favorable impression to start. She didn’t know him well enough now to gauge his intent. Whether she’s walking into a den of wolves or a field of rabbits strikes her as a mystery she wouldn’t solve until he was already inside her, she’s sure of it.

Their union is a somber affair before the Shinto priest. Intimate. Tense. Almost severe.

The priest gives the blessings. 

With the marriage announcement, Uzui bows where they stand. She realizes too late that she missed the prayers in favor of the mounting anxieties taking root. Nudging her out of her daze, she follows suit. Muscle memory and a lifetime of obedience takes her hand and guides the path before her. 

The saké teases her lips and she finds herself tempted to drink before long. It’s not until passing off the small and medium cup that they are permitted to imbibe. She focuses on her throat, still burning from the alcohol as they move on to the rings. It keeps her present of mind enough to fulfill the task she’s been charged with.

A ring is slid on her finger. His handling isn’t rough with her but he’s hardly gentle. When she does the same, she notes the calluses on his battle-worn hands—a testament to his years spent honing his skills in combat.

The warmth throws her. She stills beneath his touch… Even worse when he’s cast his garnet gaze on her like that. With that smile on his lips, he almost looks fond. He turns her hand over and gives her wrist a small caress, far more tender than he’d been with the rings.

She has the grace to blush. The watashobi only allows her so much coverage from his prying eyes, so she takes advantage where she can. His vows barely register. When it’s her turn, her voice is a hollow echo of the priest’s dictation.

“I will marry this man,” he says.

“I will marry this man.”

“No matter what may come, I will love him, console him, help him. Until death.” 

“No matter… No matter what may come, I will love him. Console him. Help him… Until death.”

“These things, I swear.”

“These things… I swear.”

The shrine maiden presents twin Sakaki branches to the couple. In turn, they place the branches upon the altar. Together they bow twice and clap in quick succession. 

With the stinging of her palms and roar of her ears, it’s over.

It’s finally over.

In every other respect, this is only the beginning.

There was before Tengen… and after.

In another life, she might have been simple… a simple girl of simple means, grown into a simple woman.

What bliss.

No simple girl would ever endure the hand fate had dealt her. They’d never even know it’s touch, let alone see the blow coming.

Back when Eiji had a purpose, she was a nun.

Her mandate was as simple as things went for her. Find your sister, they told her. Find her, mind her. The task proved easier said than done for an Oiran in the brothels of Yoshiwara.

No. If she was anything like the girls to grow up not knowing any better, she’d have thought it a heavenly night. 

The scene was a deep wash of cerulean and coal; falling snow aglow with what moonlight peered behind the kawara roof. A contoured edge ran crisp over the engawa, shadows and flakes stopping in tandem before she could so much as wet her feet.

It was the tenderest mercy she would be afforded in a place such as this.

The languid stream of smoke bled from her lips, too soon to think over another drag as she set her gaze on the abyssal sky.

Her brows furrowed, eyes pleading the heavens for intervention when she couldn’t will the tragic whimpers and panicked groans from breaching the walls.

The only warmth known to her was the burn between her fingers and the fury in her veins, neither poison more bitter than the last. 

If her lungs didn’t fail her, it was bound to be her heart.

After a terribly violent gasp, Eiji tossed the remains of her cigarillo into the mounting snow, the pressing need for quiet far surpassing any desire for escapism. Flush palms ran over the veil concealing her ears. 

Enmeshed in a deathbed of white, the snuffed out embers found themselves buried under the fresh flakes. 

“Stop it.” A whispered bid—painful as it was fruitless. She broke on the words, knowing they’d never reach the bedroom. “Put her out of her misery, damn you.”

If that fucker didn’t come soon, she was going to have to finish the job. Tear the stuck pig limb from limb, out of the frying pan and into the fires of Hell. He would bleed for this.

She wouldn’t betray her vows. She only sought to avenge her sister’s rape. Nothing more, nothing less.

You can’t afford to fall apart. You know she can feel you. You have to be strong for her.

And before she could make good on that promise, there was nothing. Not a breath, not a sound.

The silence was deafening and nearly so oppressive as the screams.

The divine stall, dutifully prostrate before the raging tempest. 

Any relief felt was dead on arrival. She knew better than to get comfortable. Her shoulders were still wound tight as a bow primed for the shot. Tense and waiting. 

Rooms away, Eiji could hear the pleas so viscerally… 

“Eiji—” she cried, her voice a death rattle that cut to the marrow. “Sister… Help me.”

                                 a crash in the distance.

                                 a whisper of fabric on the 

                                 wind. 

                                 the final screams to prelude              

                                 disaster.

The shoji was barely ajar before she’d pushed her way inside. She rushed past the hall of incredulous voyeurs, all with the same questions on their minds and lips.

She didn’t even know where they’d put her tonight. She had to follow the commotion like a dog after a vendor in the streets.

Desperate. Near rabid with its goal to fulfill. Out for blood.

If she centered herself, she could be by her side in an instant.

But her mind was racing. She had no time, no focus. All of her being narrowed on the sole objective of leaving this place for good.

Ashinuke beckoned with an outstretched palm whose finger curled so seductively, there was no need to ask twice.

The door flew open with a shout, “Emiko!”

She surveyed the room. Save the cowering fuck in the corner, it was a barren sight.

Dragging him by the collar of his disheveled robe, she hauled his sweating hull from the ground.

“Tell me where they took her,” she demanded. “I’ll gut you, I swear it.”

He shook beneath her. When the night air kissed the tracks on her cheeks, she didn’t have to look hard. There was a gaping hole in the screen of the shoji, ushering the cold inside.

You cried for me… 

She shook the memory, focusing solely on the path ahead of her. Her entire world fixated on what little she could see from outside the door; a mere pinprick of vision in that busted screen. All she was able to manage were the snapping swords of some third party who’d entered the fray.

The pig squealed, fear coursing through him at the prospect of a fight.

“Useless,” she spat.

Blood came when the words failed him. The blade from her sleeve made fast work of disposing his filth without preamble or mercy.

                                       sank into his ear… 

                                       pull out game for

                                       the gods.

                                       …dragged across 

                                       his throat.

He slumped pitifully at her feet, exsanguinating below her turning frame. She was already following after the chaos—dried her tears and righted the cloth just under her eyes.

The body was still warm as she made for the biting cold.

Eiji sullied the courtyard’s pristine canvas. She ran as fast as her feet could carry her. Didn’t make it very far in the dark; someone flew overhead, missing her entirely. 

What should have urged her all the more only brought her to her knees.

She couldn’t afford to falter like this, not when the wager was her sister’s life. 

“No one’s after you,” she muttered to herself. “There’s no time for this… Get up.”

She had to press on. So why couldn’t she move?

Eiji refused to give way to the fear. Surveying the perimeter, there was little to be done and less to be seen.

It had to be now.

Closing her eyes, she leveled her breath. Slow. Deliberate. 

She emptied her lungs with a hiss in her throat and put her all into seeking Emiko out.

With the rolling of her stomach subsided, she picked herself off the street. 

Nails bit crescent moons into the meat of her palms, arms trailing behind her as she took off into the direction she foresaw. 

She felt her. She saw her in mind’s eye. 

Smelled the cracked wood in the air. Burnt, not yet ablaze. 

Blood… so much blood.

Eiji found her before too long, limbs akimbo under the caved-in front of a vacant business.

Her sister wasn’t alone. Shock coursed through her as she took it all in.

Three women crowded the body. One at her head, keeping her still, as the others made quiet work of removing the debris from her broken form.

She didn’t have to turn to know they were less alone than the moments that had passed. “Is she dead?” The man asked, feckless to a fault.

He was an eager one, wasn’t he. If this had been out of character for the man, if he’d been a stranger to them… surely they would have reacted.

The smallest among the women only threw herself at him with tears in her eyes.

“Lord Tengen,” she sobbed. “We couldn’t find the lair. I’m so sorry.”

He nodded towards Emiko, his eyes never straying from her unconscious frame. “And the girl?”

“An Oiran.” The name fell from Eiji’s lips with the ease and vitriol of a curse, “Kyogoku House.”

Every stranger encountered this night turned to her, suddenly occurring to them she was worth acknowledging at all. Turned on her just as quickly.

“Kakushi are meant to be seen… not heard,” he warned with a snap, all bitterness.

An incredulous echo fell from her lips, “Kakushi?”

He pinned her down, swiftly and effectively cutting the indignant echo from the root.

“Now what did I just say.” 

The man towering over wasn’t asking, not remotely. He looked at her nearly expectant, all but daring her for a response.

Thick arms neutralized the struggle, pressing into her to drive the point home. Voice lowered in tandem with his head, the words in her ears enough to fill her gut with coal. 

“If you’re going to interrupt, at least make it worth my while. Might just be tempted to take matters into my own hands and modify the offense.”

“Don’t. Please… stop. You can’t touch her. Please don’t touch her.”

Eyes fell shut as she laid witness to the swan song rasping from her sister’s bruised lips. 

Tears streamed, hot and itching. Time slowed to a crawl. “Emiko. Forget about me,” she bade. “You have to save your strength.”

Gravel dug into her cheek the rougher he forced her down. A hitch in her breath. Eiji kept her gaze fixed ahead, locked on the carnage. 

The women on assist weren’t concerned with lowering their voices. 

“The hell’s a nun doing in the Red Light District?” 

“You can’t say that in front of her, idiot.”

She burned under the heat of their scrutiny. Even more as his touch grazed her prone form, searching for weapons. It seemed he’d been blessed with brains to match his brawn and beauty after all.

“You’ve got red on you,” he noted. “You must have seen something.”

“Not my blood.” The words ran cold on her tongue. Near metallic as the blood staining her veil. “He’s dead now.”

“And the demon spared you after it fed?”

“Sir, there was no demon.”

He turned her over. Crouched over her thighs, urging her to continue.

“Patron. Something took her and he was a shit witness. I eliminated my sister’s rapist. If you have complaints, I suggest you keep them to yourself.”

“Eliminated, huh?” He pressed, incredulous. His eyes returned to the women tending to Emiko’s injuries. “Don’t suppose she’s one of ours?”

His aubergine companion spoke with unbidden ease. “Lord Tengen.” A pressing gentleness, as if shepherding apoplectic cats in their twilight years rather than the man straddling her. “In polite society, there are certainly ways to extract such information.” 

He eyed her beneath his rippling thighs. Considered the account she’d woven for him. “You really don’t know anything?”

“If I knew what you were talking about, I’d tell you.” She met his gaze, beseeching. “Please, just help my sister. Kill me for my crime if you must, but please… She needs to leave this place.”

When the weight on her thighs was suddenly relieved, she had little time to breathe. He loomed over her, making fast work of tossing her over his shoulder.

“Don’t go getting too dramatic on me, Sister. Isn’t blind faith supposed to be your thing?” He gave her backside a condescending slap before taking off.

Too burnt out from the fight to argue, she merely allowed herself to be lulled by his hellish pace.

She hadn’t slept in so long. The push and pull of the jostle took her back to that day.

Fractured memories of the shore. She was no more than a child then. Now a woman grown, the bitter cold kissed her cheeks.

She looked out on the water’s edge. The drag of the waves. The crash as they touched back down.

Walking into the sea, she collapsed. Falling onto her knees, the water soaked her kimono. She abandoned her zukin, letting the habit drift away. When she looked down, there was an isolated pool of blood.

Her eyes widened, hands shaking as she dragged her touch underneath. The source of the bleed was heavy. She pulled desperately, fighting the mounting tide and her own limitations. 

When it breached the surface, she was loathed to lose her grip.

She knew that face. She wore that face. 

Realization dawned on her and she was all the more desperate to retrieve what the watery grave that saw to claim from her. 

Limp in her arms. On death’s door, if she hadn’t crossed the Sanzu River already. When she opened her eyes, they were worse than void—they were dead.

Eiji woke with a start, her own eyes locked on the ceiling of the infirmary with a scream locked in her throat.

The medical wing remained so unclouded, so quiet, there was a small part of her that considered she might be dead already.

Eyes blinking into consciousness, she wondered to herself how everything got so fucked.

“The prodigal daughter wakes,” came a rasping welcome.

“Emiko!”

She nearly tripped over herself trying to reach out to her; the hand beckoning her closer so small under the covers. 

Closing the distance between them, Eiji was treated to a slap to the cheek. She didn’t even register it at first. Her expression thrown, ears roaring. 

“You’ve killed me, bringing me here.” Her voice was as weak as her will to live. “Good as signed my death warrant, you bitch.”

Eiji stared in shock before it hit her as one thousand blows.

She was asleep.

She couldn’t move, couldn’t protect her. Hell, she was barely able to find her on time. She’d failed her and the burning realization that there might be more threatens to consume her.

“What happened while I was out?”

Emiko turned away with a hiss—either from aching injuries or her own malcontent, she’ll never tell. “You heard what Lord Tengen said,” she groused. “Demons and the like. He works to annihilate them…”

Her throat went dry in an instant. “What?”

“Sissy, I’m tired.”

Already having rolled to her side and brought the bedding past her ears, Emiko’s eyes pooled. She let the tears fall away from view but couldn’t hide the way her shoulders shook.

exhaustion. trauma. betrayal.

Thoughts swirled in a vicious cycle. She was as furious as she was suicidal.

exhaustion. trauma. betrayal.

The unspoken reverie was loud enough to hear even separated from the bond their blood allowed.

exhaustion. trauma. betrayal.

It was all Eiji could do to crawl into bed with her, arms wrapped around her trembling body. 

“Are you more angry that I couldn’t save you… or that I did?”

“Don’t be stupid.” Emiko rolled to face her sister, curling tight against her as a babe to its mother. 

“Too late,” she teased gently. Her voice is gentle as the touch that ran up and down her back. “Then tell me. What is it?”

“Just cursing the heavens for damning us with this face and body. And all the bastards who came before Uzui.”

Eiji kept her eyes on the wavering fist curled around the sterile linens they both wore. Trailing her fingers up her back, she brings her palm to her sister’s hair. Pulled her in close, stroking her scalp. She said nothing, merely gave her the means to speak.

“He’s a Hashira. Former Shinobi, by his own account.”

“Shinobi,” she echoed, incredulous. Aren’t they meant to be a dying breed?

“I can’t deliver on the promise I made. I was coerced into accepting his hand, it was the only payment he wanted…” Emiko kept talking over her, vision clouded as if in a daze. “I couldn’t just let him kill you… we needed safe passage.”

A fresh tremor coursed through her. The sight chilled Eiji’s blood.

Bloodshot eyes nearly so vacant as her dream stared back. She didn’t have to hear it to know. 

“Emiko… look at me.” She was desperate with tears of her own threatening to break.

“I can’t go through this again. I refuse. Even once more and I’ll die. By my own hand if necessary.”

Her head shook, stunned to silence.

“Those women are his wives. Says I should get used to them.”

“I can’t let you go through with this!” She refuted further, “I won’t. Not for my sake.”

Holding her hands flush against her ears, Emiko’s eyes shut. Face twisting in anguish and grief, she pushes away from her. “Sleep first, then dream.”

“I’m not dreaming. I’m pleading… Let me help you.”

“You don’t understand,” Emiko argued. “That night… It left me with scars, scars you haven’t seen. He saw me. He saw all of me.”

Eiji’s face flushed with anger. “He fucked you?”

“No… He only kept me talking while I was bandaged. Said he wants to wait until the wedding night to touch me.”

“Show me,” she insisted. “If he’s seen it, I need to see.”

It’s a beat before either moved, let alone spoke. Eiji pushed herself off the bed to stand on shaky ground. She was wary, but didn’t argue. Her sister looked away in a pastiche of offered modesty.

“You can look,” she prompted, voice faint.

When Eiji returned her gaze, visions of that night returned with a vengeance. 

pierced. mutilated. shattered.

Breaking on a sob, she saw her under the roof collapse so vividly as she did that night.

pierced. mutilated. shattered.

Her sister’s skin was tattooed, marred with the visible representation of her own failure. Hypertrophic scars cut around her waist. A contracture piece gnarled on her back. Superficial grazes claw across her breasts. 

pierced. mutilated. shattered.

She had to avert her eyes, choking on her own shame. She would never forgive herself. 

Head raised to the heavens, she was anywhere else.

“The Madame will never have me back now,” Emiko noted wryly. “At least there’s one good thing out of this mess, even if it won’t last—”

With the shattering of glass, the words died in her throat. It took seconds for her eyes to catch up, watching her sister follow after the broken vase. Eiji was there, already on the ground. There seemed to be no rhyme, reason, nor method to her madness.

“What are you doing?”

She sifted through the rubbish on hands and knees, seeking out the perfect instrument for her needs. She’d have to start soon while the sight was fresh in her mind… The rest were tossed aside.

“I’m not letting you down again.”

“What does that even mean?” She pleaded, “Eiji, stop… You’re scaring me.”

And still, she refused her. Not until hope was secured.

Lord Uzui ushers his bride inside the bedchamber, quickly sliding the door shut behind him.

no prying eyes, no vying wives.

Eiji makes to sit on the marital bed, still lost to the events of the day. It’s an absolute miracle her knees haven’t given out already.

“Not so fast.” 

The command chills her to the marrow. He’s behind her before she can react, let alone flee. Uzui pins her in place, a belt of his corded arms wrapping around her middle. Despite the warmth, she’s frozen in place as she stiffly shies from his touch. 

His voice in her ears only drags her further. “Let me look at you.”

It’s not permission he’s after. He’s taking what he wants tonight.

Kissing down the column of her neck, he gives her tit a rough pinch. The assault punches a groan out of her throat, “Lord Tengen, please.”

“Look at that. My prized whore acting like a virgin for her husband. How quaint is this.”

“I just don’t want to sully the garments.” She pushes past the fear and finds her voice. “With all your wives, I don’t see you stopping at four… who knows when you’ll need it again.”

The man drops his arms. There’s a soft sound, almost muffled. She looks over her shoulder and he’s laughing behind a manicured fist. Her eyes widen, the whiplash becoming all too much to bear.

He watches her, watching him. He doesn’t react to being caught. Doesn’t scold her or tease. Merely lowers his hand, leaving only a seductive beam in its wake as he leans forward to take the wataboshi hood from her head.

His gaze lingers on her lips. Before he thinks to act on base impulse and desires, he turns to place the hood away for safekeeping. She trails after him and shirks off the uchikake, offers him the robe and fan. Fingertips graze, earning a hum of anticipation from her husband.

“If you’d prefer me not to do the rest, I suggest you undress yourself.”

She bows. “Thank you, Lord Tengen.”

“Your respect and frugality are refreshing.” A sigh escapes him. “With any hope, you’ll rub off on the others… In more ways than one, I imagine. And I can imagine quite a lot.”

Her cheeks flush at the suggestion. 

He gropes her ass as he passes, already stripping as he takes his spectator’s seat at the foot of the bed. Uzui watches her as an expectant beast would his prey. She takes a steadying breath when he bids her to start.

Eiji thinks of the shamisen players in the brothels. She wills the strings to the forefront of her mind. Her eyes are closed as she tugs at the knot of her obi-jime… 

No more than a feather on the stream, the silken cord spills to the floor with unbidden ease. 

Her ivory obi joins the pool of fabric at her feet. She gives herself over to the music, abandoning her nerves.

Deftly unfastening the datejime leaves her kimono hanging loose. She sheds the rest like a second skin, stepping out of her confines in only her slip of a nagajuban.

More than a chrysalis. A rebirth.

The juban is her only defense. She knows it’s guileless to hope, to dream. It’s all she could have wanted just to keep her sister from the bedchamber.

No. She will do what needs to be done.

When the last whisper of cloth leaves her exposed, she’s quick to cover herself. A futile gesture born from her days in the convent.

A hand catches her wrist and she’s far too exhausted to fight him. Neither for her body, nor her modesty.

Fingers curl around her own as he guides her to the bed. Pushing her gently, back flush against the futon, he holds her in check with only his right hand; keeping her arms raised so nothing might obstruct his view.

He appraises every inch of her flesh, taking his left to explore with the pad of his touch.

neck and collarbone. sternum. breasts.

Kneading her aching tit, Uzui nods in approval. “Scratches are gone,” he notes. “Didn’t even leave a scar.”

her ribs. her waist. 

He traces the lesion with reverence. “I’m sorry I wasn’t of more use to you then.”

The words tumble from her lips before she can stop them. “You’re blameless,” she says under her breath. 

“Come again?”

“My… my sister. She feels every bit of shame for that night. There’s nothing left. Please don’t trouble yourself.”

Moments pass without a word. Just when she’s about to take it all back, he’s pressing kisses into the worst of it.

Eiji chokes on a whine, eyes widening in shock. “Ah!”

“I think your sister would disagree with you there,” he whispers tenderly against her belly. “I only met her once but she looked like she wanted to kill me for even breathing the same air as you.”

Her heart stutters in her chest, conflicted between the sensations roiling through her and the threat of being found out. She keeps her mouth shut. Neither pleasure nor information would pass her lips. Not when she’s come so far… 

She would not let her down again.

Once she found the ideal shard of glass, she made fast work of undressing herself.

“What are you going to do?” Emiko asked desperately.

Eiji walked to her sister’s bedside. She caressed her face. “I’m going to protect you.”

She returned to her own bed, drawing the curtains around her.

Before she lost her nerve, she pressed the glass into herself. She kept digging the piece further inside until she was certain it would take.

She ignored the cries and pleas of her sister. She had to do this. She had to make this right.

With a trembling fist curled around the bloodied glass, she took a leveling breath. 

“Once more,” she urged herself.

She dragged the piece along her back, piercing herself to the hilt. Eiji didn’t need a reference to know. She’d never forget for as long as she lived… It would take her a great deal longer to forgive herself.

Falling to her knees, she curled in on herself… With her body shaking from the shock of it, the deed was finally done.

“Never… Never…”

He laps at the trail of pink with his lips, relishing what reactions slip past her schooled features.

“Even still, it’s healed up nicely,” Uzui remarks, dragging her back with him. “Clean margins, not a trace of infection.”

“You certainly know your way around a battered woman.”

“If you recall, my girls are former Kunoichi. Scars are a part of the work culture… You’ll fit in perfectly, my little prize.”

Eiji masks her disgust with a breathy titter. “And here I thought I’d scared you away,” she quips.

“Thought or hoped?”

With those three little words, the room chills around her. She won’t allow herself to falter.

“I am but a traumatized woman.” A dangerous answer to feed a dangerous question. “You don’t think they're mutually exclusive?” 

He bullies her legs open with the mass of his bicep. Abandoning her arms, he locks her in place with a firm hold on her hip. Rakes his nails against the meat of her thigh, all too quick to soothe the path with his tongue, just as before.

“Answer me,” he growls against her.

Before she can think better of it, she pushes against his shoulder. He buries his face in her cunt, undaunted by her silent protests. 

One swipe of his tongue and she’s gone.

“I… I thought!” Her thighs tighten around him, despite herself. “We had—ngg! We had a… a deal—”

A harsh slap to thigh has her opening back up for him. She stifles a cry behind a shaking palm. He carries on batting at her clit in rapid succession, her groan turning helpless when he buries himself past his knuckles. 

Two fingers with a wail on the third, too thick as they scissor inside.

She’s anywhere else.

The cacophony of noises bleeding from her lips has her mind racing in tandem with her pulse.

Unrelenting pleasure. Blinding sin.

He makes quick work slinging her legs over his shoulders. Colors her thighs with his affections, cups her cunt. She jerks further into the assault.

Propping himself on the balls of his feet, he suckles his fingers. Uzui laves up the juices, savoring every morsel of her essence. 

“And you’d never do anything to rescind a deal, would you, sweet Emiko.”

She doesn’t answer, doesn’t dare dignify him with a response. If Uzui wants to go fishing, he can drown in her silence for all she cares.

Slow to start, he presses down and teases her all the more. Middle finger lapping her juices, he fucks them deeper every time. His wrist twists without resistance. It’s all she hears. He latches onto her clit, a steady staccato of tongue and teeth with his forearm shining with sweat and her own wetness.

Bracing for the forced release, she maintains a white knuckle grip on the sheets beneath her.

Thighs shaking. Stomach tensing. But it’s over before she can fall over that razor thin edge.

He pulls out without mercy, without warning. She sobs at the loss, sweat beading along her temples and brow.

Uzui takes his time spreading her lips, appreciating her cunt twitching around nothing apart from a watchful eye and wandering touch to match. He slaps her tit, diving back into the fray. She’d scream if she thought it would help.

She’s never felt anything like it. 

His nose prods her clit while he gives her a tongue lashing she’s never known. He laps up her juices like a condemned man drinking his last.

Hooking his fingers, Eiji sees white. She came under him and he fucked her right through it, fingering her while spreading his idle hand over her middle. His pinky caresses her scar with such care, almost worship.

It takes her far too long to register he’s been grinding into her splayed thigh.

He’s hot on her bare skin, heavy and thick… She doesn’t have to see him to know.

As if he can read her trepidation like a damn book, he takes her hand and drags it encouragingly over his cock. “You can touch,” he offers.

She says nothing, denying him all the more. Pushing against his advances, she means to end this encounter. Any longer, she fears he may see fit to fuck her into the little hours.

He pushes her back no less than three times before relenting. Fed up with her efforts, he scoffs angrily. “Should’ve brought Suma in to sit on your face,” he laments, all petulance.

Tossing her over his shoulder, he settles her before the bureau. 

“Hands against the wood,” he instructs her curtly, nodding where he wants her. Damn bastard’s already slotting a knee between her legs. “Forearms, too.”

When she does so, he roughly forces her back into an arch. Eiji hears the whistle of the strike before the pain registers. Feels the dresser’s chill graze her nipples before the burn on her bottom. She grits her teeth, detaching herself from the scene.

His touch roves across the handprint left behind before drawing back to hit her again.

Appreciating the canvas before him is a short lived reward.

One hand with an iron grip on her chin forces her attentions. He pinches and gropes what he can reach with the other, the taunting lilt of his voice never leaving her.

“Open those eyes.” The order sends tingles down her spine. “Let me see my gorgeous bride.”

Another thrashing leaves her crying out. He tightens around her jaw, tears flowing freely now.

She does as he commands, her deep brown gaze at last meeting his scrutiny.

It’s when she catches sight of herself in the mirror that her resolve nearly crumbles at his fingertips.

where did emiko end…

                                      …where did eiji begin?

He takes her in his arms, flush against her back as he cages her against the dresser. Uzui sucks a bruise just under her ear, his eyes never leaving the mirror. He feeds his cock inside her, ears singing with every scratch of her nail against the wood. 

A rough gasp tears its way through her. Eiji remains frozen to his whims as he callously fills her to the hilt. Barely four thrusts as he meets no resistance.

He can’t help but groan at the sight of her. 

Stuck-still, she’s too shocked to move, to speak or breathe. 

It��s not long before he tires of her cockwarming and his grunts fill the room with a renewed pace. One sharp snap begot the rest and her cunt fell so tight around him.

He sets a punishing staccato, the sounds of them filling the room in a symphony gone wrong. Coaxing the cries from her, Uzui kept pushing and pushing… bottoming out until he was coming apart himself. 

“How can a whore like you be so damn tight,” he murmurs, nearly slurring his abuses. “All that work getting you open? What a waste…”

Beads of sweat make a mess of his forehead, the silver strands of his hair catching on his skin. She flushes beneath him as he nears his release.

“Keep those eyes on me,” he commands. “I want you to see who’s making you come.”

She holds more than her will as she looks at her husband. She holds her contempt. Her rage… Her every motive and intent. That’s why it’s such a shock to them both when she meets him thrust for thrust for thrust. 

even as the wooden borough grates against the floor and wall. even as he works his spit inside her asshole.

“Fucking close—”

He throws his head back with a trembling exhale and stuttering hips. Eiji’s unbidden wails fall on deaf ears as he spills his seed.

His shaking breath echoes off the walls in a strange marriage of ecstasy and quiet discontent. Would that he could, he’d stay buried inside her forever. 

Uzui pulls out with a hiss, beyond loath to leave her pristine warmth. Releasing her, his gaze falls to their combined fluids trailing down her legs. He spreads her cheeks, reveling in the sight of his debauched bride.

Spent. Humiliated. Done. Eiji rests her weary head against the wood, between her trembling hands.

No blood, she relishes inwardly… with Lord Tengen none the wiser, Eiji has fulfilled her duty. If there was a shadow of a doubt, it’s gone now. He wouldn’t find proof of her innocence. It was gone by her own hand the day she gave herself her sister’s scars. 

Kisses press against her spine, all the way down to her tailbone. He massages her bruised and bruising flesh while huffing in the musk of their consummation. She twitches under his watchful eye and it’s all the prompting he needs to dive back in for seconds, albeit gently this time.

The deft tongue that pleasured her is the deft tongue that cleans her. She doesn’t shy from it this time. He feels the stark contrast as she bears down on his face, grunting his approval as he lazily stokes himself.

It’s not just for her benefit. Tengen knows that despite the closed doors, this intimate moment was always going to be shared.

Not his wives. Not even the heavens.

He knows the nun is sitting vigil at this exact moment, waiting outside those very doors to tend to her battered sister.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure that was her role back in Yoshiwara. Poor girl’s never known the touch of a man, has never come apart by another’s tender care… judging by her disdain that night, she’d likely only ever heard the shameful encounters of brutes and bastards. 

Who was he to deny her? To deny either of them?

If the Sister wanted a show, he’d give that holy voyeur the most flamboyant fucking of her damned life.

Emiko sits beneath a wash of indigo, the stars shining bright enough to spite her. She wrings her hands, anxiously praying he’d be done with her soon. The sun was barely set when they arrived back from the ceremony… He’s had her in there for hours.

It’s all she can do to pray he’d leave her soon enough.

“Stop it.” The familiar prayer falls from her lips, a hush of a bid. She broke on the words as her sister had done so many nights. “Put her out of her misery, damn you.”

In the quiet isolation of the veranda, the only voyeur is the moon above. Emiko weeps for her sister. She weeps for herself.

No one will mind. No one is around to hear it.

[kingkatsuki]

— my protector

Tengen needs your help in trying to locate his wives on a mission, and Sanemi is furious.

Get me a man who’s only soft for us, stat😫😭

Pairing: Shinazugawa Sanemi x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, established relationship, reader is a fellow hashira, jealous Sanemi (for literally no reason), possessiveness, rough sex, slight degradation, fingering, multiple orgasms, breeding, creampie.

Word Count: 4.2k.

All Sanemi could see was red, fiery red as he roamed the halls of the Butterfly Mansion, ignoring the pain in his right arm from the wound Aoi had just patched up moments earlier.

“Shinobu will kill you if she finds you drawing your sword in here!” Aoi called after him, but Sanemi could care less as his eyes sought out the Sound Pillar.

He had just returned from a three-week-long mission to find out that Uzui had enlisted you for help on one of his missions. Practically offering you up as bait to try and find his wives who had gone missing, like that was even your problem. And Sanemi knew you were always so eager and willing to help, it was something he loved and loathed about you at the same time.

The rage continued building inside him as he pulled open another sliding door aggressively, the wood gliding back from the force as he skimmed another empty room before continuing further through the mansion.

“Listen to me, Shinazugawa.” Aoi huffed, followed after him as one of the only people inside the mansion who weren’t scared of the white-haired man, “I told you Shinobu won’t be pleased to find out you’re breaking all her doors.”

“Fuck her,” Sanemi rolled his eyes, “Where’s Uzui?”

“If you would’ve actually stopped for five minutes to let me explain, instead of being such a jerk,” Aoi crossed her arms over her chest with a huff, “He left with her a few hours ago. Said it couldn’t wait much longer, that his wives may be in danger—”

“How the fuck is that her problem?” Sanemi growled, “So he isn't here?”

“No, but I would advise you don't follow him. Your wounds—” Sanemi ignored Aoi, already halfway down the hall as he marched towards the entrance, determined to find you on his own. It was when he stepped into the courtyard that he saw Uzui coming in by the front gate with a wide smile on his face.

“Ah, my crow told me you were back!” Uzui made to step towards him to finish the conversation, but Sanemi’s sword was already drawn as he stepped towards the larger man, “Perfect timing, my friend!”

“You fucking left her there?” Sanemi barked, “Why are you back here?”

“I came to get you at the request of your lady love,” Uzui grinned as Sanemi curled his lip in irritation at the pet name, “She made me promise to tell you as soon as you got back from your mission because she wouldn’t be around. And I thought you'd prefer a personal greeting.”

“Why the fuck are you sending her on your missions anyway,” Sanemi continued, ignoring Uzui's grin, “And leaving her there!”

“It hasn’t even been twelve hours,” Uzui shrugged, standing in place even as Sanemi stepped towards him.

“That’s already twelve hours too damn long, you prick.” Sanemi drew his sword as he made to lunge towards his fellow hashira.

“She’s probably safer there than she’d ever be out in the field,” Uzui dodged a blow with the hilt of his sword, the guard barely protecting his hands as he used his body weight to push the Wind Pillar back.

“Probably?” Sanemi roared, “She’s probably got sick fucks like you all over her right now.”

“Oh,” Uzui’s lips curled into a cocky smirk at the admission, standing upright as he pushed some fallen hair away from his eyes, “So that’s it— you’re jealous.”

“I ain’t jealous, you fuckwad.” Sanemi grunted as he attempted another slash towards Uzui, knowing it was serious when the wind user hadn’t even bothered to use his power.

“Sure seems like it,” Uzui scoffed, taking another step back to avoid his attack, “Nothing is stopping you from visiting her, you know. She’s only a few towns across and I'm here to take you right to her.”

“Oh, you’re taking me to her,” Sanemi spat, “Right fucking now.”

“Someone is asking for me?” You raised a brow suspiciously at the implication. Wondering if this meant the demons had realised that you were in fact a slayer intent on taking their head. Your stomach swirled in trepidation as you tried not to show any fear, smiling at the young girl by the door as you bowed your head.

“Yeah, and frankly I’m glad,” She clung to the belt of her kimono, “He looks scary!”

“I definitely don’t want to spend the night with him,” Another girl grimaced, “I don’t think I’d make it out alive.”

You frowned, worried that you wouldn’t have time to access your katana to holster it beneath your kimono. Instead, all you had was the small dagger strapped against your thigh, which you were certain wouldn’t be enough to protect you from the attack of a demon. But at least it was better than nothing, knowing he wouldn’t attack until you were at least secure back inside this room as you bowed your head. Following her down the stairs to the entrance of the establishment, feeling a cool breeze tickle your ankles from the open door and curtain flowing in the wind.

Your heart stilled when you noticed the familiar man standing by the entrance, glaring at anyone who dared look his way as you felt your chest swell with familiarity. You hadn’t expected to see him here this night, and you certainly hadn’t expected him to be asking after you.

“Is this the girl you were asking after, my Lord?”

“Yes,” He grunted as the Madame motioned him to step forward and follow you back to your room.

You had to stop yourself jumping him in the foyer, wanting nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and cling to his broad shoulders.

Feeling the heat practically radiating from his body as you slid open the sliding door to your room, stepping to the side to allow Sanemi to follow before sliding it shut. And in an instant, his rough hands were grabbing hold of the fat at your hips to pull your body against his, your lips meeting in a bruising kiss.

Your hands reached up to thread through his messy hair as the scent of the woods mixed with his natural sweat invaded your senses. He clearly hadn’t bothered to bathe when he returned from his mission, far more concerned with finding you.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He spoke against your lips when you finally pulled away for air, still holding onto you as your nails dragged against his scalp, “I had to come home to find out you’re helping Uzui?”

“Tengen needed my help,” You murmured, and Sanemi’s nose scrunched in irritation at the use of the Sound Pillars' first name.

“Tengen,” He mocked the pitch of your voice, “Has three fucking wives that can help him, I only have one.”

“Technically,” You parroted his tone, giving him a cocky smirk as you felt his fingers press into the skin at your hips, “I’m not even your wife.”

“You’re as good as,” Sanemi scoffed as he stole another kiss, “And Uzui would do well to remember it.”

“His wives are missing,” You mumbled sadly.

“So does that mean he’s looking for a fourth?” Sanemi frowned at you as you couldn’t help but smile and shake your head at his jealousy.

“No,” You lowered your voice to a whisper, “He hasn’t heard from them for a few days, the letters have stopped coming— and he thinks something bad may have happened to them.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sanemi couldn’t lie that it had hurt to find out from someone else that you wouldn’t be there upon his return, whether it was jealousy or the fear of losing you he was unsure. But either way, it left him with that familiar sense of dread that pooled in the pit of his stomach and threatened to boil over.

“I’m sorry, but there wasn’t much time,” You did wish you’d sent your crow to warn him, but Uzui had promised you that he would let Sanemi know. Especially since you were doing this for the sake of his wives, “He needed my help, so I offered.”

“You’re far too nice.” Sanemi shook his head, using his grip on your hips to pull you into another sultry kiss.

“I thought that’s why you loved me.” You teased.

“No,” Sanemi scoffed, “I love you for your perfect ass,” He spanked your cheek for emphasis, “Everything else is either a bonus or a crux on my life.”

“You pig.” You scrunched your nose as Sanemi couldn’t stop himself from stealing another kiss.

“I’m kidding, sweetheart,” Sanemi’s eyes softened as he reached up to cup your face in a calloused palm. His thumb stroking gentle circles against your cheek as you leaned into his touch, “But you really should stop putting yourself in harm's way.”

“I’m a hashira,” You replied simply, “It’s what we do to protect others.”

“Protecting others doesn’t mean becoming a whore.” He spat, although you knew there was no malice there. The harsh tone covered up the fear and dread he felt in your gut at the prospect of something happening to you.

“And yet here you are, at the whorehouse requesting me by name.” You smiled back, relishing in the pink hue that dusted his pale cheeks.

“I just don’t want to lose you,” His tone sobered, resting his forehead against your own as he stared down into your eyes, “What a pitiful existence it would be.”

“You won’t lose me, Sanemi.” You wrapped your arms around his waist to pull his body against you, feeling his semi-hard cock press against your hip. The time without you made even more conspicuous when he's now surrounded by the comforting scent of you again.

“Did anyone touch you?” He immediately pulled back, concern evident in his features as he looked you over.

“No, I’ve been fine,” You shook your head, “They’ve mainly had me sitting down for tea with travellers passing through.”

“Good,” He pressed a kiss against your forehead in relief as he exhaled softly, “You have no idea how much I missed you, sweet girl.”

He peppered kisses along the curve of your jaw as you tilted your head back to give him more room. Your hands smoothed along his collarbones before dipping lower to trace patterns against the marred skin that scarred his chest, pressing your fingers into the ridges as you felt the tacky sweat clinging to his skin.

“I missed you too,” You whimpered gently as his teeth found your pulse point, biting down on the sensitive skin as his tongue lashed against it.

Sanemi bullied his muscular thigh between your parted legs to keep you steady against the wall as he shamelessly fiddled with the belt of your kimono. Letting the fabric fall open as he drank in the sight of your bare skin beneath, his firm hands immediately paw at your bare sides. Noticing the small dagger that you had holstered against one of your thighs as he ran his fingers over the handle of it in satisfaction.

“That’s my girl.” He murmurs, “Not planning to use that on me are you?”

He teased, pushing it back into the holster as he moved his hands back up the curve of your hips towards your chest. Truth be told, he was relieved that you had some form of protection in here. Especially when there was the chance that a demon was responsible for the spate of missing persons in the area.

“It depends if you’re nice to me or not,” You mused.

“I’m always nice.” The words coming from Sanemi’s lips alone were enough to have a melodic laugh rumbling in your chest, as for most, Sanemi and nice were complete contradictions.

“Liar,” Throwing your head back in a pretty laugh that had Sanemi’s heart rattling against his rib cage.

“I mean, I’m always nice to you, aren’t I?” Sanemi’s thumbs stroked the underside of your breasts as he delighted in the way your body responded to him, curving your back towards him as your bare cunt pressed against the flat of his thigh.

“We shouldn’t,” You murmured, “Not here—”

“Let me have this, sweetheart,” He hummed, leaning down to capture one of your pebbled nipples between his lips as he sucked hard, “I am a paying customer, after all.”

In fact, he was going to get that money from Uzui for his pure subordination.

“Why pay for something you can get for free at home?” You teased as he afforded your other breast the same attention, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as you let out another airy moan.

“My girl wasn’t there when I arrived home, and I had heard the girls here were beautiful,” He played along, “Apparently there’s one with the best fuckin’ pussy.”

“Oh yeah?” You gasped as you felt his fingers press against the indents of your thighs, dangerously close to your labia as you bucked against his leg. Giving your clit some slight relief as Sanemi continued forward, his thumb brushing through the wet slick that coated your folds as it drooled out of your neglected hole.

“Yeah,” He repeated, pulling away from your breast with a pop as he found your clit. Pressing sloppy circles against it with the calloused pad of his thumb as he watched you shamelessly grind yourself into his touch, “Apparently she’s already fucked into the shape of another guy though.”

“Must be a lucky guy,” Your eyes rolled back, knocking your head against the wall when you felt two of his thick digits slip inside your tight hole with ease. Scissoring them to loosen you up as he pulled back to watch you inquisitively through half-lidded eyes.

“The fuckin’ luckiest.” Sanemi grinned as he felt your walls throb around his fingers. He deliberately curled them towards the spongy spot inside you that he knew would have you seeing stars as he began to focus each roll of his wrist against it.

His name continued to spill from your lips as he kept his movements poised and focused, his rough thumb kneading circles against your clit as he worked you towards your release. No one knew your body better than he did, and he knew after being pent up for so long how little effort it would take to have you dangling on the edge of your release.

“Fuck, Sanemi.” You moaned, already feeling yourself dangerously close to falling, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Then cum.” He spoke as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, and his blase tone immediately had your cunt clenching around him as you swan dived directly into your bliss. The pleasure surged through your body hard and fast as you came undone, his darkened eyes focused on your movements a he kept his fingers pressed against that same velvety spot. Following the wave of your hips as you rode out your release, unrelenting against the sensitive area as he already had you hurtling towards a second.

It was too much, and not enough at the same time. Your pliant walls throbbed around his slick digits as you wished for something more, something bigger.

“‘Nemi, fuck me please.” You whined pitifully.

“Such a filthy mouth on such a pretty girl,” He teased, but he pulled his fingers away from your sopping heat, lifting them up to the light to spread them as you noticed the silvery webs of your release clinging to them as he pushed them between your lips to taste yourself.

You tried to speak, but the pads of his fingers against your tongue muffled the words as you cleaned them off. His lips curled into a satisfied smile as he pulled them out of your mouth, dragging your glossy bottom lip down in the process as both hands immediately reached for his belt.

“When we get home I am fucking you like you deserve.” Sanemi spoke coolly, “Not some quick fuck in a whorehouse.”

“I deserve everything you give me, 'Nemi.” You smile up at him lazily before watching him tug his pants down, revealing his fat cock to your prying gaze.

You immediately reached for it, and he let you. Hissing when your smaller palm wrapped around the girth of him, giving him a teasing jerk that had his nostrils flaring and his jaw locking. Your thumb swipes over the swollen tip to gather the pearl of pre before smoothing it down his length, delighting in the choked grunt that rumbled at the back of his throat.

“Is that so?” He continued, “So bending you over the moment I get you home will be deserved,” His voice darkened, his own palm joining yours against his length as he tightened your grip on his cock, holding your hand steady as he fucked himself into your fist, “You tease.”

“Fuck,” Your cunt throbbed around nothing at his suggestion, as you instinctively spread your legs further apart, “Please, 'Nemi.”

Sanemi curled a palm beneath your thigh to hoist it up against his hip, spreading you open for him as you guided the leaky tip of his cock between you. Stroking it against your drenched folds as you coated him with your essence, moaning when the swollen tip nudged your puffy clit. Feeling yourself growing more impatient as Sanemi pulled his hips back to tease you, pushing your hand away from his cock as he wrapped himself in a fist. Pressing the head against your tight entrance as he felt your hole tremble against him, trying desperately to coax him in as he indulged himself with your reaction.

“‘Nemi, don’t be an asshole,” You pouted as you tried to can’t your hips forward, feeling the tip breach your entrance before he was quick to move his hips back. More than content with teasing you, despite being in such an open, compromising place.

“If I were an asshole I’d leave you unsatisfied like this to search for the demon myself,” He goaded, pressing his hips forward once more.

“Sanemi,” You whined in irritation, “Don’t tease me, please, it’s been too long.”

He didn’t give you a moment to think before he was bullying his cock inside your tight cunt. Your inner walls stretched to accommodate his girth as he moulded you to the shape of him once more, reminding you of exactly who you belonged to. The sensation stole the air from your lungs as you could do little but cling to his broad shoulders as he afforded you a moment to adjust to his size, dragging himself from your velvety walls before canting his hips forward again. Setting a languid motion as he slowly rolled his hips against you.

“Sanemi,” You sighed in satisfaction as you felt whole once more. Too many lonely nights were spent dreaming of this as you felt him finally bottom out, the coarse hairs at the base tickling your clit as you bit down on your bottom lip.

“We’re in a whorehouse,” He mused, still sluggishly rolling his hips into you, “It only seems right that I treat you like one.”

Your cunt clenched around his cock hard at the notion, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Sanemi who grinned in satisfaction. His fingers tighten their grip around your thigh as he takes this as his answer.

Sanemi is brutal as he fucks into you, not sparing you a moment's peace as he uses you for his own gratification. The sound of skin against skin echos the small room as his balls slap against the curve of your ass with each forward cant of his hips. The ferocity of his thrusts has your breasts bouncing and your thighs crying out for some relief as you struggle to stand upright, thankful that Sanemi’s strong body has you pinned against the wall as he fucks into you.

“Oh my god,” You cry out, nails digging into his skin as he maintains his pace. His other hand squeezes at the fat of your ass as he angles his hips, the curve of his cock drags against the spot inside you that he knows will have you seeing stars as the blunt tip kneads your cervix.

“Look at me.” Sanemi growls, his warm breath fanning your face as he keeps a consistent pace.

Your eyes meet his and you’re certain you’ll cum under the intensity of his gaze alone, your cunt clenches in retaliation as he continues to thrust into your sopping hole. Each sultry moan he pulls from deep in your chest has him rolling his hips with more vigour, eager to have you repeat them as he works you towards your climax.

It’s pitiful really, how easily he has you submitting to him as you already feel the telltale signs of your climax ebbing in your pelvis. The pressure builds up as it nears breaking point as Sanemi pushes into you with more ferocity, using your body for his own means as he works himself to his own release.

“I’m going to leave you pumped full of my seed,” He growls against your cheek, his chest heaving as he feels his balls begin to tighten, “Leave it drooling down your thighs when I’m finished with you. So that everyone knows who you belong to—”

You knew this was a direct attack on Uzui, and the fact that he’d handpicked you for his assistance on this mission. Even though there was nothing in it beyond securing the safety of his wives, it had Sanemi oozing with jealousy and he was intent on reminding the Sound Pillar that you were not his plaything.

“Do you also need a reminder of who you belong to, sweetheart?” Sanemi spoke lowly as he fucked into your pliant walls, slipping a hand between your connected bodies to press sloppy circles to your clit.

“No, ‘Nemi—” That familiar sensation throbbed between your thighs as you teetered on the cusp of your climax.

“No? Then who do you belong to?”

“You, ‘Nemi. You—” You choked out, leaving messy red lines against his chest now as he pressed harder against your clit.

“Louder.”

“You, ‘Nemi! It’s always been you!” You cry out, certain that the rest of the floor could hear you as you began to gush around his cock. Your hips bucked wildly as he pinned you in place, keeping his thumb firm against your clit as he watched you ride out your climax. Indulging in the debauched noises that escaped from between your pretty, bruised lips.

“Good girl,” He snarled before moving his hand from your clit to resume a damn near savage pace. Rutting hips against your own messily, working himself towards his own end as he felt the way your walls continued clenching around him in the aftershocks of your climax, “Such a good girl for me.”

He arched his back so he could look down at where your bodies were connected, watching the way his thick cock disappeared inside your velvety walls. And the creamy ring of slick that you’d left around the base of him, the silvery lines matting into his pubes as he felt his balls begin to seize. Certain he wouldn’t be able to last much longer before giving a few more sloppy thrusts and emptying his balls into your warm, wet cunt.

Sanemi stayed buried inside you, feeling the last spurts of his orgasm surge through him as he coated your walls in thick, white spunk. Cherishing the final few flutters of your walls around him as you both came down from your highs, peppering kisses against your face as you placed a palm against his chest to feel his racing heart, the dull thump of it soothing you as you felt your thick lashes begin to flutter.

“Don’t fall asleep, sweetheart.” Sanemi rasped, starting to pull himself out of your spent cunt as you whined in objection. Trying to tighten your thigh around him to keep his hips in position as he grinned down at you; pressing an apologetic kiss to the side of your lips before looking down to see the mess of your combined release stringing against his length as the silvery lines split apart, “I’m sorry, I’ve gotta.”

You knew he had to go, Uzui was probably still waiting for him on a rooftop somewhere. Hopeful that you’d have some news to share with Sanemi about the whereabouts of his wives, but you felt the regret begin to pool in the pit of your stomach as reality settled back in.

“If you want to leave with me, I’ll take you right now,” He said as though it was the most simple thing in the world, “But if you want to stay in I’ll be watching.”

You didn’t have to tell him your answer, he already knew. Placing a final, lingering kiss on your lips as he held you in his arms, “Nothing will ever happen to you as long as I’m around.”

[ambrosiagoldfish]

I've never sent a request before, but I'm fiending for more adam, like anything, anything at all

Benefit of the doubt

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Viewer discretion is advised

Warnings: Angst(?), Not exactly fluff at the end but it gets better, typical Adam TW’s, reader low-key high-key has a complex about being loved, this is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader. (Also Y/n isn’t used, which also surprised me, the author, LMAO)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Request Box: Open

Word count: 1760

A/N: Hi! Thanks for the request! I haven’t had a chance to write something that was originally my own idea in a while, so this was very refreshing! I’ve had this idea since I’ve watched the show so I hope you enjoy it!

I’m entirely up for making a small series from this oneshot, but I would need to know y’all’s opinion on it! (So don’t feel scared to let me know if you want some more of this idea in my Request box/the replies on this post!!)

Also Adam may be slightly OOC but please just chalk it up to him not yet getting his ego’s dick sucked 24/7

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy, let me know if you do!

Proofread but of course could have left mistakes!

You’ve existed for almost all of human existence, Almost.

You were the 4th being to be created during the time of Eden. But unlike the other 3, you weren’t human. In fact, you technically never lived before. An honestly hopeless existence, yet it was so beautiful in every way. But for what purpose? Well…

You were created shortly after Eve ate the apple, before she and eventually Adam committed the first act of sin that caused evil to latch onto humanity like a leech.

The reason for your existence was simple. To be Adam’s new spouse, except for when after he died. From the very moment Eve bit the fruit of temptation, it was already decided she would hold no place in heaven. Adam was given mercy due to him not possessing any knowledge of the fruit Eve had shared with him, he trusted her wholeheartedly. Which is exactly why heaven gave him mercy… no, pity would be a better choice of words.

Upon your creation you learned immediately of the happenings before your existence. About Lilith and Eve, and about Lucifer

And so, after Adam and Eve were casted away from the Garden, they continued to live their lives, fostering the existence of mankind for the rest of time. And when they eventually died, Adam was given pity while Eve was thrown to the wayside, the vast unknown.

You thought it was finally your time to experience existence with the one you loved, the one you were made for. Of course you never would know life as he did but surely your life never-after life could be just as meaningful as his.

How excited you were, how completely enamored by the thought of it. But there was a problem with that, Adam had grown into a new person, he was meant to of course, he was human. But he had grown selfish, abhorrent… insecure.

You understood why, to be betrayed by not one but two of his wives for the same person. You couldn’t possibly imagine what he could be feeling. Before you were to meet your future husband, Sera informed you that he had asked for a mask, and once on, he has refused to take it off.

That didn’t bother you, it’s irrelevant to your love for him. You've only heard descriptions of his features. Short Brown hair, gold eyes, bushy eyebrows, some scruff on his chin. All in all, he sounded perfectly fine, ordinary even. But even then it’s his choice to wear the mask, so you’ll respect it.

Finally, the time he arrived in heaven, and when Sera finally introduced you, his new spouse, the one to whom would be by his side for the rest of forever.

He rejected you outright.

“What?” Your breath hitched as you stuttered over the word, the sharp inhale of your lungs through your mouth flicked through the air.

Sera looked just as shocked as you but she quickly regained her composure “What is the meaning of this Adam?”

“If you think I’m going to let my life get fucked over by another one of your “gifts” well, you’ve got another thing coming!” He crossed his arms and shook his head defyingly. “I’ve already learned my lesson with those last 2 bitches.”

“Adam I’m sorry that happened to you but I would never-“ almost like lightning his finger shot to your mouth, shushing you.

“Save it, Sweetcheeks, I really don’t care what you have to say, so just stay there and look pretty, k?” His hand fell and grabbed the sides of your face, squishing your cheeks together, his LED mask flashing a sharp smile.

You saddeningly looked down at the clouds below you.

“Adam!” Sera’s voice sounded through the air, still soft but firm, she continued, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Divine judgment allowed you to be the first human soul in heaven, so I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I expect you to give your new spouse that same grace.”

Slowly your eyes looked up at Sera with a soft smile. Adam only groaned “Ugh, Fine but don’t be fuxking annoying, capiche?” You nod your head quickly.

“Very good, glad we have it settled.” Sera gives a quick smile, “now, I have some business to take care of so I’ll leave you two alone to get to know one another” With that, Sera flew away leaving the both of you alone.

The silence was thick in the air, the only sound being the occasional wind breeze blowing past. The sunlight creeps in through the clouds painting an orange sky above you both. In every sense of the word, it was perfect.

It was almost funny. You had waited so long to finally meet him, your true love, the one you were made for. All the things you dreamed about, the laughs you’d have together, the warm embrace of the person who you loved. But now… you didn’t know what to say…

“I’m… happy to finally meet you.” Your voice is quiet, almost non-audible. “I’ve been waiting for you since… well, forever…”

He doesn’t respond. He seems to be transfixed on something below you both. You train your eyes on whatever he’s watching only to see the dark cavernous abyss below you. Finally he breaks his silence.

“The fuck is that?” He asked pointing down, a sound of genuine intrigue hidden behind his abrasive voice

“That’s hell?” You stated confused “where would-be sinners will go to be punished, didnt you k-“ you suddenly realized that perhaps Adam really didn’t know what hell was. It was only created relatively recently, after Eve and Him ate the apple, of course he wouldn’t know. “it’s also where Lucifer-“

“Don’t fucking say his name.” Adam spoke, his voice rough in his speech. LED mask putting a harsh frown on his face. “Let’s get one thing straight M”Kay babe, if you’re my “new spouse” that’s something you should remember.” The “new spouse” was said with a tone clearly meant to mock you.

“Sorry…”

“Ugh, It’s fine, just don’t do it again.” He groaned before a wicked smile crept onto his mask “Sooo, that means he’s going to be stuck with all the wasteful beings of existence, HA fuxkin’ hilarious. Guess that makes them the losers and us the Winners!”

His laugh filled the air, the sound was like music to your ears, sure maybe it wasn’t really what you’d hoped he’d fine funny, but you loved it all the same but eventually his laugh died down

Silence again… in admits of all of it you suddenly was sparked with a thought “oh!” Adam looked confused at the random exclamation. “I had almost forgotten… I brought you something, as a welcome gift or was it a nice to meet you gift? Both? Eh, it doesn’t matter but the point is-“ you suddenly snap your fingers.

Golden light began shining, the light seemed like liquid hot magma as it moved and molded slowly into a shape. Light seemed to be overlapping and churning into itself, forming your desired outcome. With one final snap of your fingers, the gleaming gold liquid took hold, and quickly hardened to a solid.

The object that had formed quickly fell down, landing in your arms with a light thud.

“I’m still learning this creation stuff, so I’m sorry if it’s not perfect but-“ you hold out the object in your arms as an invitation to grab it “I learned from Sera that you liked to play guitar when you were alive, so I thought you might like to have one here…”

Adam looked at the instrument in your hands. The base color was gold, the neck was pearly white with gold strings. To be honest it looked more like a harp then anything, like if a guitar and a harp had a baby.

Silence again. Did he not like it? Did he hate it? You go to pull it back to you and apologize when suddenly it’s ripped out from your hands.

“Holyshit, this is sick as Fuck!” Adam immediately started playing some rifts on the new guitar. The sound wasn’t what you were expecting but you guess Sera was right about his talent with the instrument. The whole time his mask had a wide and sharp smile as he mimicked guitar sounds with his voice, the occasional laugh leaving his mouth.

“I’m really glad you like it” you say, a sigh of relief leaving your body.

Adam looked at you, one you missed. He saw how relieved you were, how nice you were being. No person who supposedly loved him ever gifted him something, well, one other did. Someone he trusted and loved more than everyone, anyone. But look how that ended, with them being removed from the garden, away from an eternity of happiness until he died. All from someone giving him what he thought was nothing but love, a gift.

But he could see that this was different, you were different. When Eve gave him the apple, she didn’t explain what it was or why she wanted him to eat it, even when he asked her she didn’t explain. But with you, you had not only given him something you knew he liked but also expressed the reason behind it. Yes, you were different, even Adam could see it.

“Anyways, thanks for the axe, I guess…” Adam for the first time was stunned, but quickly he continued “What was the thing that Sera chick said about me and “divine judgment” or whatever the fuck? That she gave me the “benefit of the doubt…”

You were a bit confused but continued listening, “I guess I should at least try to give you a chance, since you got me this sick ass guitar an’ shit.” Your face lit up, you about began to speak before you were, once again, shushed “B-B-But-” his finger tapped your lips with each repeated syllable ”-only a chance. If you betray me like those last 2 bitches then you’re done, got it?”

To say you were overjoyed would be an understatement, a smile quickly plastered across your face as you quickly nodded your head

“Alright good, so uh, what do ya say about showing me the best places to get a bite to eat around here, I could really go for some ribs right about now.”

“ I’d… love to, thank you Adam”

“Yeah don’t mention it Sweetcheeks” Adam quickly wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you two began walking.

Maybe you will get your eternity of happiness.you can only pray you do.

[gubsbuubs]

Trophy wife

Pt. 2 is out - It´s Mutual

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~ 4.5K

Warnings: Typical case descriptions, kissing and petting, enemies to lovers, a set up for a smut. Summary: When an unsub targets trophy wives, (Y/N) is asked to go undercover with her nemesis, Spencer Reid, posing as a couple to lure the killer. As they navigate a high-stakes operation, tensions escalate, blurring the lines between their professional and personal animosity.

Preview: "All this animosity, the bickering... we don't actually hate each other; we want each other.” He stared into my eyes before continuing, “And I don't think I can go another day without tasting you."

A/N: Hi everyone, this is my first-ever fanfiction. I initially wanted to write smut, but to add depth, I decided to craft this background story. English is not my first language. I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated 🍒

“Are those poker chips?” Derek asked as the images from the most recent crime scene appeared on the screen behind Garcia.

"Bingo, my lucky charm! Those are poker chips, and you've hit the jackpot," Garcia continued. “This is the second woman to be found in a motel room stabbed and extremely beaten in the last two weeks.”

“The Vegas police have requested our help,” Hotch informed as he analyzed the pictures.

Ross quirked up his eyebrows as an amused smile played on his lips. "Well, either he really likes poker, or he's on a mission to prove that crime can be a high-stakes game…"

"Well, he's certainly raising the stakes in our investigation," I added, my remark eliciting another round of chuckles.

"Children, behave, please," JJ attempted to redirect the team's focus to the situation at hand.

As I scanned the pictures, my index finger reached above the image on the table. "The persistent appearance of poker chips as a signature strongly suggests a connection to the unsub’s personal experiences, perhaps indicating a deep involvement with poker, possibly even as a player. Maybe…”

“While symbolism is intriguing, we should prioritize empirical evidence. Jumping to conclusions based on perceived patterns might lead us astray." My brows furrowed in annoyance as I turned my head, hearing him cut off my train of thought. His tone carried a subtle bitterness, as if questioning the validity of my analysis.

And there he fucking was again, Dr. Spencer Reid, incessantly questioning my every move, as if my mere presence irked him to no end.

Our "relationship," if you could really call it that, was basically just a constant back-and-forth of arguing, interruptions, and tension you could practically cut with a knife. We tried to keep it professional for the team's sake, but it was obvious we weren't exactly best buds.

And what kept his skepticism going wasn't just about work competition; it was personal. He had this lingering grudge because I had stepped in after his buddy, Alex Blake, bailed on the BAU, leaving him behind.

To be honest, his animosity seemed mostly one-sided. At first, I admired Spencer's intellect and respected his dedication to the job. Plus, let's be real, I wasn't blind—I definitely noticed he was a good-looking guy. But his hostility kind of pushed me to throw up walls and respond with a guarded attitude. And then, well, naturally, I found some twisted enjoyment in getting under his skin and making him lose his cool.

"How can you have an IQ of 182 and yet be so clueless?" I scoffed, laughing. "Sure, you're intelligent, but common sense seems to elude you at times."

Reid stared for a moment, a mix of shock and rage flickering across his otherwise monotone, expressionless face. His eyes narrowed, and he responded curtly, "It's 187, and (Y/N), I would advise you to mind your manners when addressing me. My intelligence surpasses yours by far more than a number could explain." As he stood there, staring into my eyes, arms crossed by the presentation board, a surge of irritation pulsed through me. I was poised to respond, the words itching at the tip of my tongue, but before I could unleash them, Derek intervened. With a subtle shift in his posture, he leaned in towards the table, effectively redirecting our focus. A deliberate clearing of his throat signaled the shift in conversation. "The sheer brutality of these killings unmistakably points to an unsub fueled by intense rage. The way the victims were forcefully and repeatedly stabbed suggests a perpetrator with considerable physical strength and stamina.”

"The messy and disorganized scene adds another layer to the unsub's profile. Women just tend to be cleaner, so we are definitely dealing with a man,” JJ added.

“They are waiting for us, we can discuss the rest of the preliminary profile on the jet, wheels up in thirty,” Hotch said as he stood up, the team following right after.

--x--

As I focused on the files spread out in front of me, the sound of the door swinging open abruptly pulled my attention away. "We've got another body," Hotch announced, his voice cutting through the silence that lingered in the small meeting room lent to us by the Las Vegas police.

By now, we had successfully linked the unsub to the world of poker. Our victims, all married, had been last seen with their partners at casinos during poker nights, forming a clear pattern. Despite our breakthroughs, the mystery surrounding his identity and motive remained unsolved.

"Rebecca Miller, 29 years old, was last seen with her husband at Riverside Casino," Hotch added, his tone steady as he placed the picture of the victim on the board. "Witnesses report they were very affectionate. Her husband mentioned she went to get them drinks before she disappeared," he continued, his gaze scanning the room, inviting any additional insights or comments from the team.

"She definitely fits the victimology—young, beautiful, and married to an avid poker player," JJ remarked casually as she got up to take a closer look at the picture.

Rossi gazed into the distance, lost in thought. "They must be raking in serious cash playing poker. Why else would these stunners be tying the knot with someone clearly out of their league?" he mused aloud.

As I scanned the pictures of the victims, a realization began to form in my mind. Each photograph depicted a strikingly beautiful woman, always beside her husband, who often appeared much older or less attractive in comparison. "They're trophy wives," I exclaimed, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place.

I glanced to my left, where Reid stood, scoffing and shaking his head. "Trophy wives?" he immediately questioned, his focus remaining fixed on the board as he continued drawing lines for the geographical profile.

"Well, think about it," I elaborated, gesturing toward the pictures of the women. "These women, young and beautiful, carefully curated for a certain image, accompanying their husbands to the poker games, spending the entire night all over them. How had we not seen this glaring pattern before?"

"That's a rather simplistic and uninformed view, (Y/LN)," he countered. "These women had successful careers. Assuming they're merely trophy wives diminishes their individuality."

"Just because they have successful careers doesn't negate the potential of being used as accessories," I countered, locking eyes with Reid as he turned to face me. "It's not about undermining their achievements but acknowledging the potential for a specific dynamic in their relationships. We need to explore all possibilities, not just those that fit neatly into your rational worldview."

"Acknowledging possibilities is one thing, but chasing baseless theories is another," Reid retorted, his tone measured. "We can't afford to indulge in wild conjectures without solid evidence."

"Sometimes you're so buried in your 'facts' that you miss the human element of the cases," I remarked, chuckling dismissively as I shook my head to the side.

"It's called objectivity, (Y/LN)," he asserted, stepping closer until he stood before me, his hands slipping into his pockets in a gesture of dominance. "Something you might want to consider before letting personal biases cloud your judgment."

"I'm the one who lets personal biases cloud my judgment?!" I retorted, my voice rising as frustration bubbled up within me.

He remained silent for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"You've got to be kidding me," I continued, my tone escalating gradually. "You're the one who's been acting like a little bitch to me since I joined the team, so don't lecture me about taking things personally here."

Still, he said nothing, his hands now clenched into fists at his sides.

"You've had a problem with me from day one," I pressed on, "and it's about damn time you admit it instead of acting like such a child about it."

"This is about doing our job objectively," Reid retorted, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his voice. "Your presence doesn't change the standards we uphold in the BAU, but clearly you don’t meet them."

"That's enough!" Hotch's voice boomed, commanding attention as he intervened. His gaze shifted from Reid to me, a subtle warning in his eyes. "I think we should explore that possibility," he acknowledged, nodding towards my earlier suggestion. "It seems reasonable. Apart from that, are there any more leads we need to consider?"

Spencer turned on his feet, his movements purposeful as he approached the board. "Actually, I've been working on the geographical profile," he began "And it seems that, looking at the last victim’s place of abduction, he is moving in a straight line." With a marker in hand, he started drawing on the board, "Look at this: the first victim was last seen at the Lotus Casino Central, the second victim at the Charlaton, and now Rebecca at the Riverside. It's a straight line, which means..."

"He's heading for the Bellagio next," JJ chimed in, seamlessly connecting the dots of Spencer's thoughts. Spencer nodded in confirmation, acknowledging her insight.

Rossi rose from his seat and joined Spencer by the board. "Now that we know where he's likely to strike next, perhaps we can set up an operation to catch him; he’s been striking on poker nights."

Hotch leaned forward, his brow furrowed in concentration as he considered the strategy. After a moment of contemplation, he straightened up and cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the team. "Yes, an undercover op might be our next chance." His gaze fell on me, lingering for a moment as he addressed me directly. "Y/n," he began,"You have experience as an undercover agent, and you actually resemble the victims," he observed, "Would you mind going in?" The room fell silent as the weight of the proposition settled among us.

"Yeah… sure," I responded quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Derek immediately sensed my apprehension and offered reassurance with a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Hey, it's okay," he said softly. "You're not going in alone. It has to be a couple, so you'll have someone to have your back."

"Can you come with me?" I asked, my voice tinged with a mix of vulnerability and hope.

"Actually," Hotch interrupted, straightening in his chair, "I want Reid to go with you." My head fell into my hands as I sighed, dreading the complications that might arise. The weight of Hotch's decision settled heavily on my shoulders, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at the thought of partnering with Reid for this undercover operation.

"Sir, with due respect," Spencer began, but Hotch raised his hand to stop him from continuing.

"(Y/N) needs a poker player husband; you’re the only one who could actually pass as an avid poker player," Hotch explained simply, as if it were that straightforward. "I trust you can both behave professionally and put your differences aside?" His tone sounded more like an order than a question.

"Let's get to work then," Rossi said, his tone decisive, as I let my head rest on the table. It dawned on me that this was the only option to ever catch this guy.

--x--

JJ pulled out all the strings, ensuring we had everything necessary to play our roles seamlessly. With meticulous attention to detail, she provided a stunning black dress that hugged my curves perfectly, matching pumps that elongated my legs, and exquisite jewelry that added a touch of elegance to the ensemble. Among the glittering gems, she placed an engagement ring and wedding band, enhancing the authenticity of our charade.

As I admired my reflection in the mirror, a wave of mixed emotions washed over me. The thought of spending the upcoming night with Spencer made my heart race, a strange feeling stirring within me.

My mind constantly drifted towards the way we were supposed to behave, thoughts swirling with anticipation. I imagined his touch, knowing that as a couple, he would have to be close, his hands possibly lingering on my body. How would it feel? Would I be able to maintain eye contact as he stared me down during our conversations?

I sighed heavily, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. Despite this being an undercover mission, it felt strangely intimate, as if I was gearing up for a date with him. The prospect of going out and spending time with Spencer was something I'd never experienced before, and it left me feeling nervous, even though I couldn't quite admit it to myself.

Maybe if things hadn't unfolded as they did, Spencer and I could've found common ground. Perhaps we could've forged a genuine connection, evolving into friends, or even something more meaningful. But fate had a different plan for us.

From the moment we crossed paths, our destinies seemed entwined in conflict rather than harmony, and I remember the day I met him all too well. We had just finished the tour, and Derek was now showing me to my desk.The ding of the elevator caught my attention, and there he stood. I've heard of Dr. Reid, everyone talked about him – his genius IQ of 187, his remarkable accomplishments at such a young age. But amidst all the praise for his intellect, no one ever mentioned how good-looking he actually was.

"Pretty boy," Derek exclaimed with a grin as he welcomed him. I couldn't help but agree silently. It was indeed a fitting nickname, Spencer was undeniably attractive. "Come meet our new member, Y/n Y/Ln."

With a smile I reached out my hand instinctively, ready to greet him, but to my surprise, he took a light step back. "Sorry, I don't shake hands," he said dismissively, his tone somewhat curt. "Did you know that the average person carries about 4,000 bacteria on their hands? It's a breeding ground for germs. It's actually safer to touch a toilet seat."

I stood there, utterly dumbfounded. Did he genuinely suggest that touching a toilet seat is cleaner than shaking my hand? "You really know how to make a girl feel special, Agent Reid," I retorted, rolling my eyes as Derek chuckled at the situation.

"It's Doctor, not Agent," he corrected, his tone matter-of-fact as he swiftly made his way to his desk. My mind raced, attempting to conjure a response, but he had already moved on, leaving me standing there, still processing what had just happend.

"Are you ready, or should I tell the unsub to wait because you need to keep fixing your lipstick?" a voice spoke from the darkness of my room.

“Jesus fucking Christ Reid, what the fuck is wrong with you?" I jumped from my place, surprised to see him standing there, leaning on the frame of my bathroom door. "No one ever taught you how to knock on a door?" I muttered under my breath.

"First of all, your door was unlocked, and second of all," he shook his head disapprovingly. "That's a very foul mouth you have, you should really watch your tongue," he chided. I felt his gaze lingering appreciatively on how the dress hugged my curves and accentuated my breasts.

From the corner of my eye, I lightly took in his appearance. The tailored suit fit him like a glove, different from what he wore every day. He looked more relaxed, better, hotter.

I was taken aback when I saw him move and enter the bathroom. My heart started racing as he stood by my side, exchanging a glance with me in the mirror.

"Honestly?I don't think he'd mind waiting for me” I straightened up, finally satisfied with my lipstick.

"Too bad he won't get to see it," he said, chuckling. His left hand met my hip, swiftly turning me around, and I gasped as the small of my back hit the bathroom counter. His own body caged me in, his intense gaze never leaving mine as I looked at him, confused yet strangely drawn to him. His right hand reached for a wipe, and he gently cleared any remnants of the red lipstick. I felt the cold, wet cloth on my lips, erasing any traces of the vivid stain. "If we're going to act like a couple, I don't want your lipstick all over me," Spencer remarked dryly, his expression unamused. "It's not my fault you don't know how to kiss a girl with lipstick, Doctor," I retorted, my annoyance evident in my tone.

"You look good enough," Spencer remarked with a smirk. "I'll be waiting for you in the car." With that, he turned and headed out, leaving me to gather my thoughts before joining him. "Well, this is going to be a long night," I sighed.

--x--

As Spencer drove us to the casino, we found ourselves going over the details of the plan. It was simple; our initial objective was to seamlessly integrate into the casino's scene, mirroring the couples we were emulating.

The plan dictated that Spencer and I had to project the image of a couple deeply in love, sharing glances, engaging in affectionate gestures, and creating an atmosphere that would draw the unsub's attention. Spencer would transition to the poker tables, just as the husbands of the previous victims had, all while showcasing his "trophy wife."

As the night progressed, I would strategically separate from Spencer to lure the unsub into action.

Inside the casino, Rossi and Morgan were playing their part as players, keeping an eye out. The rest of the team was in a van, ready to jump in if things went south.

The objective was clear – act like a couple. How hard could that be?

The tension in the car was palpable, and we exchanged glances, silently acknowledging the complexity of our roles. The success of the operation hinged on our ability to draw the unsub's attention, making him believe we were just another couple enjoying a night out.

The atmosphere in the casino buzzed with energy as Spencer and I entered. The dim lights, the soft murmur of conversations, and the distant chiming of slot machines created a captivating ambiance.

As we made our way to the bar, I reached for Spencer's hand and intertwined my fingers with his.

His eyebrows immediately shot up, a silent question evident in his expression as he glanced at me, perhaps surprised by the sudden display of affection.

"The more convincing we are, the more it'll attract the unsub's attention," I replied, my voice hushed but determined.

His gaze flickerd between our intertwined hands and my face. "Yeah," a small grin playing on his lips. "Just make sure you don't take it too far and end up falling for me."

"That's a good one, Dr. Reid," I chuckled softly, a hint of sarcasm lacing my words. "I'll try to contain myself."

We approached the bar, and Spencer took a seat on a stool. As I moved to stand by his side, he surprised me by pulling me closer, guiding me between his legs. His arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me snug against him. I was taken aback, but I didn't say a word. Acting like a couple—that was the plan. It was just all part of the plan.

"So what should I call you?" Spencer cut through our silence, his gaze focused on mine. "What should you call me?" I echoed, my voice filled with confusion as I furrowed my brows.

"I'm not going to address you by your real name," Spencer said matter-of-factly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "We need undercover names. So, what's it going to be?"

His eyes scanned my features, awaiting my response, while I took a moment to ponder. "How about pretty girl?" he proposed with a smirk, his gaze lingering on me. My expression must have betrayed my surprise, but before I could respond, he continued, "Or how about Angel?" The endearing term rolled off his tongue, and I felt a flutter in my chest at the sound.

"Angel seems to resonate with you," he teased, a chuckle escaping his lips, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he awaited my reaction. I felt the heat rising to my cheeks, rendering me momentarily speechless.

I closed my eyes, disbelief washing over me. Was this real? Was Spencer really saying these things to me? And during a mission, no less?

"You seem awfully quiet for someone who doesn't know how to shut the fuck up," he said, his lips brushing against the side of my neck. "If I'd known all I had to do was call you angel, I would've done it sooner."

"Sweet names will only get you so far," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. Despite the warmth spreading through me at his words, I couldn't shake off the sense of disbelief at the way he was acting. "Oh yeah?" Spencer asked, his tone amused, as I felt his breath tickling my neck before his lips brushed against my skin, leaving a small kiss on my pulse point. My breath caught in my throat, and my heart pounded in my chest as he slowly moved his hands along my waist and lower back. I couldn't focus on anything but the warmth of his body pressed against mine, sending shivers down my spine.

"Doctor Reid, this is highly inappropriate," I managed to utter.

“On the contrary, my sweet Angel," he spoke softly as his small kisses traveled up my neck. "See, this mission requires us to act like a couple, so I'm simply enjoying my time with my wife,” he lightly chuckled as he reached my jawline. “As you said, the more convincing we are, the more it'll attract the unsub's attention”

Suddenly, Hotch's voice disrupted the moment as he barked over the wire in my ear, "Guys, great job. We've got a male in his late 30s to early 40s staring at you; he's moved closer since you arrived. He could be our unsub."

I heard Hotch's words, but my brain struggled to process them as I was too focused on Spencer's eyes, his gaze fixed on mine while his hands lightly pressed me closer.

"Come on, Angel, let's give him a show," Spencer pleaded, his voice laced with a confidence that both shocked and intrigued me. It was unexpected to witness this side of him, but there was something undeniably exciting about it. Perhaps it was his confidence and assertiveness, or maybe it was the way he was taking control and leading the interaction. "Yeah.... let´s.... let´s do it" I lightly nodded my head, I swear he could feel the pounding of my heart against my chest from how close he stood to me.

His right hand reached my face, his touch gentle against my skin. "Angel," he spoke quietly against my lips, his voice barely a whisper. "I'll only keep going if you give me permission."

His eyes were dark, his lips plump, inviting, calling for my attention. I couldn't even form a "yes," but he knew what I wanted. I pulled him closer by his tie, and our lips collided in a hot, messy kiss. I was taken aback by his skill and technique, completely unable to resist him as the heat between us intensified.

Spencer pulled away and wrapped his arms around my body, embracing me in a hug. His warmth was comforting, and I felt a sense of security in his embrace. "He's standing right behind you, gray suit, red tie, black hair," he whispered in my ear, his voice low enough not to be noticed by anyone standing nearby. Suddenly, I was snapped back to reality. The mission. The unsub. He was standing right behind me

"Should we join them?" I asked softly, glancing over toward the tables of poker and motioning for Spencer to start playing, continuing with the plan. He was supposed to hit the games, and I needed to find a way to get myself alone.

"Absolutely, my love," Spencer said with a smile as he rose from his seat.

Still a little dazed from that kiss, my mind was on fire, and my panties were ruined. How was I supposed to continue my life after knowing the effect Spencer had on me? My racing thoughts were only interrupted by the sight of the suspect following us to the tables. Instinctively, my body reacted, and I found myself clinging to Spencer's arm, seeking comfort and reassurance in his presence.

As planned, Spencer sat down at the closest table and began playing, our actions subtly conveying intimacy to onlookers. I wrapped my arms around his neck, planting kisses occasionally, making it clear to everyone that I was his prize, and he was proudly showing me off as his trophy wife.

As he played, I showered him with praise and encouragement. "You're doing so well, baby," I whispered, my words laced with admiration. It was evident that he was enjoying the attention, his gameplay slightly faltering under the distraction of my praise. Despite being a skilled and experienced player, known for his prowess and banned from multiple casinos, he seemed momentarily thrown off his rhythm by my words of encouragement. It was a small victory, a slight advantage gained in my favour.

Feeling the need to draw the unsub away, I leaned in close to Spencer and murmured, "I'm going to step out for some fresh air on the balcony, honey. I'll be back soon."

Spencer nodded, his attention still on the cards. "Okay, sweetheart," he replied with a smile, not once lifting his gaze.

Before I turned to leave, I couldn't resist the urge to plant a quick kiss on his lips, just as part of the plan, playing my role as the devoted wife. After all, that's what a wife would do, right?

The fresh air hit my face, sending shivers down my arms. I didn't need to turn to know he had followed me outside; I could feel his presence on my right side. When I glanced over, he gestured to a drink in his hand, offering it to me. "You look like you could use a drink," he said.

My heart raced, and my breathing quickened as he got closer, but I kept a cool, confident attitude, determined not to let him see my nerves.

"(Y/N), don't drink that. It's laced," Morgan's urgent voice snapped through the wire, jolting me into alertness. "Just keep him talking so Garcia can check him."

My blood ran cold as I registered Morgan's warning. Without missing a beat, I forced a smile and nodded, "Thank you, handsome, but I've had enough tonight," I replied smoothly, declining the drink with a casual wave of my hand.

"That's a big rock on your finger," he pointed out, glancing at my, unknowingly, fake engagement ring. "Why are you here all alone? Where's your husband?" he continued, raising an eyebrow and asking the question directly, as if he didn't already know the answer.

"Well…" I laughed, injecting a flirtatious edge into my voice. "I could ask the same thing," I continued, "Where is Mrs…?"

"Mrs. Desmond? She stayed at home; she doesn't really like poker," he replied nonchalantly. "I'm Steve, by the way," he added, reaching out to shake my hand.

I shook his hand, my heart quickening as I heard Garcia speak from my wire: "Steve Desmond, a 39-year-old banker, is divorced; according to court files, his wife left him after he lost all of their money on poker.” The sound of clicking keyboards could be heard in the background. "The divorce dates coincide with the killings,” Garcia added.

“That sounds like a trigger,” Hotch's voice chimed in.

"Holy moly, he also assaulted a prostitute a couple of years ago, but the charges were dropped and he was never convicted," Garcia spoke nervously.

"That's our guy, (Y/N). Keep him talking; we're on our way,” Hotch said, his voice steady and authoritative.

"Is everything okay?" Steve spoke, his tone taking on a hint of aggression as he grabbed my attention. "Maybe you should take that drink."

“I'm not thirsty, thanks,” I replied firmly, stepping back in an attempt to keep my distance. However, he refused, reaching out and gripping my arm to keep me from moving.

"I'm telling you," he said angrily, his grip tightening. "You're clearly nervous. Just a tiny sip won't hurt." I tried to break free of his grasp, but he was stronger than me and refused to let go

"FBI!" Suddenly, I saw Spencer coming up behind him, his fist connecting with the guy's face with a solid punch, knocking him back into the wall. He was strong and quick; the unsub didn't stand a chance against him. Spencer swiftly pulled out his handcuffs, cuffing him without even breaking a sweat.

"Steve Desmond, you're under arrest for the killings of Amanda Crane, Juliet Sand, and Rebecca Miller,” Spencer announced, his voice firm and authoritative.

Morgan and Rossi soon appeared, Morgan helping the unsub up from the ground and carrying him out as he spoke, "Steve Desmond, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to talk to an attorney for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford it…” His voice faded as they left, escorting the suspect away from the scene.

Once they were out of sight, Spencer came up to me and reached for my arm, his expression filled with concern. I winced as he touched the red marks left behind by the unsub's grip.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice full of concern and care, his eyes searching mine for any sign of distress.

"Um, yeah…" I replied softly, my voice shaky. "I just need a moment to process this." My heart was still racing from the encounter, and I needed a moment to collect myself. Why did he step in like that? I thought to myself, a mixture of gratitude and confusion washed over me. I could've handled the situation on my own—I was trained for this, after all. Yet, there he was, interfering in my work.

After the quiet ride back to the motel, Spencer led me to the door of my room. As we stood there, I realized I could no longer contain the annoyance for how he had handled the situation. The tension of the evening had been building inside me, and I needed to let it out. "Spencer," I began, my voice tinged with frustration. "I appreciate that you were trying to help, but I had it under control. I didn't need you to intervene so quickly," the frustration bubbled inside me, I couldn't help but wonder why Spencer felt the need to intervene. I felt like I had done a great job handling the situation, and his actions made me feel as though he had robbed me of an opportunity to take down the unsub myself.

Spencer's eyes widened in shock as he opened his mouth to speak. "Oh, really?" he said incredulously. "I didn't realize you had everything under control. I just figured that the guy having his hands all over you and aggressively grabbing your arm was cause for concern. But clearly, you didn't need any help."

"Oh, right, because clearly, I was in so much danger," I snapped sarcastically.

"I'm not going to sit around and watch some creepy-as-hell psychopath put his hands all over you," Spencer said firmly, shaking his head in disbelief. His brows furrowed in concern, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and genuine worry. "I won't let him put you at risk of being hurt … or worse." His tone was sharp "Get it through your head; I'm not going to let that happen."

"Oh, right, I wasn't aware this situation called for a 'white knight' to swoop in and save me from myself," I retorted, my tone laced with bitterness. Crossing my arms defensively, I met his gaze head-on. "Since when did my safety become your problem?"

"Since the moment we met, you stubborn brat," Spencer snapped back, his frustration evident in his tone.

"Since the moment we met? That's so much bullshit," I shot back, my voice rising with indignation. "Since when did you care about my safety so much?" I challenged him, my eyes narrowing in disbelief. "You've never shown me any compassion before, so why now? Hun?"

And then, suddenly, his lips crashed against mine, his body pressing mine firmly against the door with a resounding thud. I felt the heat of his body press on mine, the tension that had been building between us explode in an instant.

His kiss was messy and sloppy, but damn, it was hot. There was an urgency in the way our lips crashed together, fueled by a raw desire that couldn't be tamed. As the kiss deepened, the air grew thin, and I felt myself getting breathless. With a gasp, I had to pull away,

“What the fuck was that about?” I whispered, not being able to back away from his hold.

"When I kissed you at the casino, I finally understood," he muttered, his forehead resting against mine. "All this animosity, the bickering... we don't actually hate each other; we want each other.” He stared into my eyes before continuing, “I don't think I can go another day without tasting you."

[sunderwight]

Bingqiu AU where SY and LBH grow up as childhood friends (idk maybe they're both at QJP but Shen Jiu is less of an asshole, or maybe SY transmigrates into Random Village Bully Child No.3 when Binghe's mom is still alive -- or both) and there's none of the tension of the idea of "one day Luo Binghe is going to rip my limbs off" for Shen Yuan.

So he and LBH can just be bros! Fantastic! Shen Yuan has never had a little brother before but he's had a little sister, he knows how to do this. Just spoil the cute kid rotten!

It's only fair compensation for how many terrible things LBH is gonna have to endure on the road to ruling the world, after all. SY also feels more freedom to change minor aspects of the plot around, too, like maybe he'll stop Liu Qingge from dying, definitely he can help LBH get a better start to his cultivation journey, and maybe the abyss and xin mo thing doesn't really need to happen...?

The list of things SY considers meddling with ends up including wives.

Like really, come on now, Luo Binghe may be a stallion protagonist but there's no need for that many women. Especially when at least half of them are just increasingly cheap copies of the other half, and that's being generous about it. Some of PIDW Binghe's wives were, frankly, horrible people. And if he's being honest about it, it wasn't fair of Binghe himself to take on that many either. Even if anyone would naturally give their left arm to be the protagonist's wife, after a certain point Binghe just can't spend that much time actually with them! And then he can't form the kinds of deep and meaningful bonds which might actually help heal his trauma!

SY's not looking to interfere too much, of course. Ning Yingying is not his favorite wife, but she's fine. She causes trouble but it isn't on purpose, and she's genuinely sweet and willing to befriend Binghe before he's anything special (although even now, it's obvious Binghe is special). Ning Yingying can stay.

And of course, so can Best Wife Liu Mingyan.

But Sha Hualing? Well, she offers some political advantages, and as the demon wives go she's not the worst. She's kind of iconic and was very popular, but Shen Yuan thinks the harem could do without her scheming and malicious attitude towards the other wives. The cost of harmony was too high for the political bonuses offered, especially when Binghe might as well just take her ancestral lands by force and be done with it. He's going to advise against that match.

And the Qin sisters. Sure there's the legendary threesome, but Wanrong's dead weight and it never struck SY quite right how Qin Wanyue pressured Luo Binghe into sex. The threesome wasn't even good anyway.

Better Qin Wanyue than the Little Palace Mistress on that front, though. But aish, that's complicated, the Palace Mistress is even more politically vital to securing HHP than Sha Hualing is for her father's kingdom, and almost as bad for the peace and harmony of the harem. Ultimately SY will leave it up to Binghe, but if Binghe asks, he's going to advise against the Huan Hua wives too.

With thoughts like this in mind, SY starts talking to Binghe about how to establish a household, what to look for in a spouse (or twenty), and other topics of that nature. What sort of household Luo Binghe ought to strive to have, and what sorts of standards he should himself to. Also while of course assuring him that Shen Yuan isn't interested in women. Lest he worry that Shen Yuan might be trying to steal any of the wives from him, at any point. He's not competition!

SY: I am helping to pave the way for Binghe to have better marital relationships! I am the best big brother slash best buddy ever! don't worry, no matter what happens to Binghe, this gege will be your no.1 cheerleader forever!

LBH: is he saying I should get a palace if I want to marry him? well... that sounds reasonable. ok, I will do it! (•̀ ω •́)✧

[kasagia]

Dancing with the devil II

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem! royal!reader Summary: The Na-Baron's birthday celebration on Giedi Prime at the beginning of the season makes you realise just how much work you'll have to put into becoming Empress—and even more into avoiding Harkonnen, who's showing you way too much attention. This is something that your almost-fiance definitely shouldn't like, and something that he doesn't notice. After all, there's little you can see in the darkness of Giedi Prime. Warning: kind of royal au!; 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; smut; Inspired by: Bridgerton and "Would've, could've, should've" - Taylor Swift Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART I ~•♤♤♤•~ PART III ~•♤♤♤•~

"Smile. And powder yourself. You look pale, as if we were going there for a beheading and not a ball." Your mother says, adjusting the position of the grid of diamonds decorating your head. You flinch as you feel the cool metal of the gems brush against your cheek.

The damn thing was heavy, but nice. You remember perfectly how Lord Luwael's eyes lit up when he saw you wearing a similar ornament in your hair.

"In a way it is. First we will see the fight in the arena." You are sceptical of what comes next when your ship lands on Giedi Prime. You didn't like this place. It was black and white, barren, devoid of life and any moral principles. It was therefore an ideal place for gossip to arise - especially the spicy ones.

Besides, your... last encounter with Na-Baron was still fresh in your memory. Especially in dreams. On those terrible nights, you dreamed about how, in the darkness of your gardens and under the moonlight, you allowed him to do... more wicked things. Things that even husbands and wives shouldn't do behind their chambers' doors. And as much as you felt aroused after every dream like this, you were also disgusted with yourself and hated the Na-Baron even more for your little fantasies.

This helped immensely when it came to increasing motivation to win the emperor's cousin's heart, but no amount of flirting with him helped you forget the touch of a certain Harkonnen. You found it very interesting. And you hoped that after fighting in the arena, your body would adopt the same attitude towards him as your brain. He was dangerous and should have been avoided by you at all costs, and yet, in every fantasy about him, you enjoyed his burning touch more than the previous ones and wanted much more to happen between you two.

"Better for you. Half of these charpies in silks and sparkles will faint and never set foot in a ballroom. Take this opportunity and stick to the arm of the emperor's cousin." She advises you, licking her finger and twisting a lock of your hair so it rests unruly against your temple and falls onto your cheek.

"Lord Luwael wrote to me all summer. Besides, you saw for yourself that he visited our planet several times."

"It does not mean anything. He could only be bored, so he flew around the planets looking for entertainment. You have to charm him, Y/N. Drive him crazy with a... desire for you so great that he will do anything to have you—only then will he propose to you. It's still a miracle that he looked at you, since we come from a worse dynasty than him." He reminds you dryly, and you press your lips into a thin line. He doesn't wait for your answer. She leaves your room, clearly expecting you to follow her, when the ship announces that you are about to land.

You take a shaky breath, looking at yourself in the mirror. Your home-coloured dress hugged your curves perfectly, showing off the best of your figure, and your makeup highlighted your cheekbones and gave your eyes depth. All of this made you an irresistible sight. Lord Luwael would have to be blind not to appreciate your beauty. You will leave Giedi Prime with a ring on your finger or on the ship of the emperor's cousin. You did not see any other possibility, nor did you want to allow something other to happen.

You put on your soft, genuine smile and leave the room to join your mother on the exit ramp. Moments later, the ramp descends, revealing the black sun of Giedi Prime. You frown and squint as you adjust to the atmosphere on the planet. Your mother and you come down to earth. As soon as you can see beyond the patch of land in front of you, you shiver as you notice the Na-Baron waiting near your ship. You feel your anxiety and nervousness rising inside you, but you try your hardest to maintain your polite smile.

"Viscountess Y/L/N. Lady Y/L/N." He greets you, his gravelly voice sending shivers down your spine. You try to control your breathing and heartbeat, as panic is rising within you.

He looks... even more intimidating than on your home planet. That night, his mask had covered practically his entire face, but now you could see him in all his glory. And damn you, because those tempting lips he had weren't the only advantage of his appearance.

His face looked as if thousands of painters had worked on it, as if it had been lifted from ancient paintings depicting beautiful demons tempting people to damnation. And, oh, what a handsome devil he was. If you believed in an afterlife, you would wonder if he escaped from hell to lead people into temptation.

You couldn't help but wonder if he would recognise you. Does he know that it was you who went with him to the garden a few months ago? You try to read some reaction from his face, but he maintains an emotionless, composed demeanour as he looks at you and your mother.

"Na-Baron. It's a great honour to be here to celebrate your birthday. May fate always be in your favour." She greets him kindly. You shiver in relief as he thankfully doesn't pay much attention to you as his gaze comes back to your mother. 

"I hope it will. The maids will show you the way to the guest wing and your chambers. All celebrations will take place tomorrow. I hope that you will soon get used to the atmospheric conditions in Giedi Prime. Until then." He nods at the maids standing behind him. Bald women come up to you and hand you tiny baskets. "Our guests find it quite useful."

You look at the things in the basket; your attention is caught by sunglasses with black lenses and a strange coat. Your mother reaches for her coat and, with practiced skill, slips it gracefully over herself, along with her glasses, as you stare unsteadily at the strange fabric.

"Lady Y/L/N. May I?" Na-Baron asks. However, he doesn't wait for your answer.

He comes closer to you, takes your cloak from the basket, and hands it to your servants. He wraps the coat around you, adjusting it to your figure and making sure to cover all of your exposed skin.

"We Harkonnens have a special pigment in our skin to prevent the carcinogenic effects of sunlight and burns from long-term exposure. You must remember to wear this coat outside to avoid any diseases, Lady Y/L/N." He says, standing behind you and tying the fabric of your coat together. He uncovers your face for a moment and puts on your sunglasses. "Nor your beautiful eyes to be damaged." He whispers, so only you can hear him.

You shiver, staring at him blankly, glad that your sunglasses allow you the convenience of hiding your eyes from him and whatever you're focused on.

Was it possible that he recognised you? Was he giving you a hint that he knew you were his white swan? NO. Impossible. He probably flirted with every single woman who came to Giedi Prime. After all, he was going to find a wife this season. He had to show his softer side and hide Giedi Prime's brutality from the naive noblewomen so that some stupid and naive one would marry him.

"We thank you very much for your kindness, Na-Baron." Your mother speaks for you, obviously angry that you haven't spoken up for yourself. You just nod, shifting your gaze to the castle behind him, trying to escape his watchful, searching gaze for a moment.

"Your welcome." He responds with a nod to your mother.

He takes your hand in his, making you tense slightly as he leans down and presses a short kiss on it. A shiver runs through you as you feel the shape of his lips through your gloves, and your mind automatically recalls the memory of that night. You smile at him politely and quickly join your mother's side, leaving Na-Baron on the ramp as another ship arrives.

"Do not act like that. Don't show that you're afraid of them. And be careful. It's very common for people here to disappear after showing disrespect to the Na-Baron. You know how, right?" She whispers furiously to you as you are led inside the palace by the maids.

"I... I know. I'm sorry." You say this thoughtfully, turning discreetly over your shoulder to watch him greet the other noble families. This time, he doesn't kiss anyone's hand or help anyone put on their protective cloak. You shake your head. He probably saw that you weren't engaged to anyone yet, and that's why you got... special treatment from him.

"Just don't act like a scared mouse. I raised you better."

Right. Your mother raised you better. That's why you shouldn't have disappeared into the garden with this mysterious stranger from the very beginning. It would save you a headache now that wasn't caused by the oppressive atmosphere on Giedi Prime. You just wanted this season to end as soon as possible. Preferably your marriage.

You walk hand in hand with Lady Y/F/N towards the arena, gossiping about what happened since last night. The Giedi Prime sun is somehow more bearable today; you don't know if it's because of the items given by Na-Baron or because the weather was exceptionally not as cruel as the day you arrived, but you feel much better. (Or maybe it was because you didn't see Na-Baron Harkonnen today.)

"I tell you, Princess Irulan was furious. I heard she destroyed her room, and the maids worked all night to get it back in order. Do you think it's possible? That the Emperor wants to marry her off to Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha?"

"Possible. It wouldn't be a stupid move. After all, Irulan cannot become emperor. She may be the firstborn, but she has no right to rule. It is logical that her father wants to marry her off to the second-best possible party, of course, when it comes to financial and political issues."

"Second best? Who's first?" You just smile at her question, watching the other noblewomen and their families walk towards the arena.

"Of course, as a woman in love, I must say that Lord Luwael."

"Has someone talked about me?"

A faint blush appears on your cheeks. You and Y/F/N turn around to see a smug Lord. You give him an equally mischievous smirk and curtsy, grabbing the arm he offered you.

"I do not think so. You must have misheard, Lord Luawel. Maybe it's the sun of Giedi Prime that bothers you so much that you lose your hearing?" You tease him as the three of you enter the arena.

"Lady Y/N, you don't have to worry about me so much, as sweet as that is. Fortunately, I don't need as much protection as you ladies do. However, I must admit that Giedi Prime is a terrible place. It does not allow you to see the natural beauty of certain things, taking away their colours."

"Maybe there's something… positive to be found here?" Y/F/N asks hesitantly as you pass a group of Harkonnens heading to the arena. The men say something in their harsh, unpleasant language that makes you shiver. You are only further insisting that there is nothing good to find on Giedi Prime.

"Positive? With all due respect, Lady Y/F/N, the Harkonnens have destroyed everything beautiful that could be left on this planet. Including their appearance and behavior." You giggle, careful not to let anyone else but the three of you hear you. But you wonder why your friend's attitude is so... sullen. She plays with her glove nervously as her eyes fall on the baron's older nephew, Rabban. "I don't know who is worse, him or his younger psychopathic brother."

"I think both of them are equal in their madness." You comment, agreeing with Lord Luwael.

Your eyes involuntarily land on Na-Baron, who exchanges a few words with one of his servants. You shiver when his eyes find yours—as if he has a special detector that makes him aware every time someone's eyes linger on him for too long.

He nods to you, looking at you carefully and examining your dress. His lips twitch into a smile when he sees you're wearing the coat he helped you adjust to your figure yesterday. You quickly turn your head towards Lord Luwael and give him one of your practiced, beautiful smiles.

"I… I'm sorry. I should join my family. Lord Luwael. Lady Y/N."

You frown, watching her walk away like a beaten puppy. You decide to question her about her strange behavior later in the evening. Now you had to focus on your lord.

"And you, lady? Are your wonderful mother and father with you?" Lord Luwael asks, placing his hand on top of yours after managing to penetrate the layers of material protecting your skin. He acts as if he wants to pull you much closer to him.

You feel the skin of your hand burn where it touches his, but unfortunately, not from... the excitement of this tiny, forbidden contact. Someone's eyes are watching you carefully, but you are too afraid to look towards Na-Baron to confirm that it is his irises that are staring hatefully at your joined hands.

"My mother had a headache, so she staid in her chamber. Unfortunately, my father couldn't show up at all. I hope you won't abandon me and leave me so lonely in this barbaric place, my lord?"

"I wouldn't dare do that. I am a gentleman. After all, someone has to catch you if you faint, my lady."

You smile sweetly at him, ignoring the sudden urge to kick him in the crotch for his words. You must maintain the innocent demeanour of a cute, awkward, and sweet noblewoman. Even though you hated it...

"Oh, you don't know how much I appreciate it, my lord." You say, wondering if you should actually pretend to faint and let him catch you. It would be very romantic if he carried you out of the arena in his arms and took you to the medic. Plus, you wouldn't have to watch... Na-Baron's entire performance.

You take your seat in the guest box. The arena shakes with the screams and applause of people who are truly eager for their Na-Baron to shed blood. Lord Luwael hands you the binoculars and gently removes your cloak as you both notice that you are protected from the sun's rays by a special black glass window.

You shiver as the Harkonnen's war drums sound and the announcer says something in their language, announcing Feyd-Rautha's fight.

A blush involuntarily blooms on your cheeks when you see that Na-Baron has decided to fight without a shirt or any armour protecting his chest. You hungrily stare at his muscular torso as he shows off his warrior body, which is decorated with paint—probably their war symbols, bringing good luck in battle.

"A real poseur and playboy. He only does it to attract attention."

"Probably. But you can't say, that it doesn't work, my lord." You say and nod towards the other ladies, who are also staring at the muscular figure of a warrior that Na-Baron proudly displays.

"Does it work for you?"

"I'm just a woman. But I prefer… slightly more hairy men." Lord Luwael chuckles at your comment, giving you a mischievous look. His attention briefly returns to Na-Baron, who lets out a belligerent cry after the murder of the first prisoner. You see him shiver slightly and his eyebrows furrow before his attention returns to you.

"So would I also gain your attention if I appeared… in a similar condition?"

"My lord, you would then have my complete undivided attention." You respond equally flirtatiously. The man sitting next to you hums in appreciation. His hand reaches up to cup your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheek as he stares at you, entranced.

"You, lady, have my undivided attention at all times and occupy my every thought." Unfortunately, you can't respond to his comment with something as sweet as Na-Baron's angry, painful scream that echoes from the arena.

Your attention returns to the fight. Na-Baron fights the last opponent, who, surprisingly, is not under the influence of drugs. You watch the fight with curiosity, even more so when you see blood pouring from Na-Baron's side.

"He had to distract himself. So far, he hasn't had any problems fighting him." You hear people commenting around you, but your eyes are focused only on Na-Baron.

You shiver as his gaze wanders towards your box, and it feels like he's looking right at you, making sure you're watching him. You put this idea out of your head. He probably didn't even know your name. He couldn't recognise you; he would definitely show it by now if he did.

You shiver as he lets out a menacing scream and charges at his opponent. His movements are quick, well-aimed and aimed as he delivers slashes, perfectly avoiding the blade of the prisoner he is fighting. You hold your breath as he knocks the blade out of your opponent's hands and stabs him in the stomach several times.

Na-Baron whispers something to the warrior and slowly lowers him to the ground as he draws his last breath. You can't take your eyes off his bloody form. His piercing gaze is still directed towards your lodge as he raises his blade. The crowd in the arena screams, people applaud, and you feel Lord Luwael next to you slowly begin to fall to the ground.

"Lord Luwael!" You scream, attracting the attention of the people around you. Several men help you, and they lift the unconscious lord. They carry him outside, and you want to follow them, but unfortunately for you, the second round of Na-Baron's fight begins, so you can't just leave. So you go back to your seat, thinking hard.

Lord Luwael apparently had another negative trait besides being a hopeless romantic—a firm believer in preserving a strictly traditional, patriarchal system. He fainted at the sight of blood and abhorred violence.

You sigh, wondering how the hell you're supposed to cope with a husband and an emperor who's afraid to draw someone's blood and pick up a sword.

Your gaze falls back on the fighting Na-Baron. If only he was less... Harkonnen... You shake your head at the idea that crossed your mind. No. You are going to become the empress. Nothing could change that plan, and certainly not one night of oblivion and pleasure with a brutal, psychopathic future Baron of a dead planet.

But that doesn't stop you from admiring the way Na-Baron's muscular chest ripples with each rapid breath or the way his muscles twitch with his movements. And unfortunately, you can't stop your thoughts from wandering and imagining him moving into a much more... intimate situation.

"Did she watch the fight?" Feyd asks his servant as the medic stitches up his wound.

He finished the fight a few minutes ago. People were probably starting to gather in the ballroom, but he had to clean up and put things in order before he appeared in public. Before he shows himself to you.

"At first, she was a little distracted by this... lord. But he fainted halfway through Na-Baron's fight, so afterwards her attention was entirely on you, my lord."

"He fainted? Weak spawn. Did she enjoy my performance?" Feyd asks, slightly irritated by the way the medic's fingers are shaking with fear as he tends to the wound.

"She was definitely impressed. I think Na-Baron's decision not to wear the breastplate helped, as did the fact that the guards made sure not to let Lord Luwael into the arena again."

"Very good, you did a great job. Keep it up. I'm going to need you to distract that pet of hers for a while. You can do it, right?"

"Of course, my lord Na-Baron."

"Women like flowers. Those outside Giedi Prime." The medic comments as he finishes stitching up his wound. Feyd looks at him for a moment, then nods at his servant.

"This is a wonderful idea. Order a vase of the rarest flower species to be placed in her chambers. I'll give you a note tonight, after the ball."

Before Feyd finishes his sentence, he already holds the medic's arm and plunges a dagger into his stomach. The man groans in shock as he stares in sheer terror at the Na-Baron.

"Because of you, I'll be late for my own ball." He growls and puts on a black shirt, ignoring the blood on his fingers as he walks out of the infirmary.

He walks through the halls of the palace, hurrying to his chambers to change. His thoughts involuntarily go to you, remembering your intoxicating scent and the softness of your skin under his lips. Damn him if he lets some lesser man have the taste of what is his.

You belonged to him from the moment he killed for you the emperor's dog that tried to bite you. If necessary, he will kill another one to make sure that no man will dare to adore you again.

But Feyd couldn't do it; as much as he dreamed of it, he preferred to gain your... feelings rather than force you to marry him. And maybe he enjoyed the thrill of chasing you, but only as long as his claims for you weren't at risk. And this little... lord was hanging around way too close to you.

He didn't know at all what you saw in this weak man. He wasn't handsome, he couldn't fight, and he couldn't defend you. Certainly not before Feyd. You needed someone strong—someone who wasn't afraid of your true nature or unleashing it. You weren't yourself hanging out with that lord. He watched the two of you closely, and countless times he saw you tighten your hand around a glass, a fan, or in a fist when that lord made a remark that irritated you, but instead of snapping back like you did with Feyd, you smiled falsely sweetly and nodded obediently.

His beautiful, brave swan, instead of hissing at the fools around her, only tried harder to attract them. And this annoyed Feyd immensely. You could be so much more than just a pretty face. You had a character that Feyd admired in you, but instead of showing it with pride, you hid it deep inside, afraid of society's opinion.

You would make a wonderful Baroness. With you by his side, he wouldn't worry about anyone seeing him as weak man. And he himself found worthy company in you during that wonderful night on your planet. If only you hadn't run away from him, hadn't believed the rumours so much, and weren't afraid of him, but rather of what he might do to you, you and Feyd would make a wonderful match.

As he approaches his chamber, he hears the ladies giggling. He decides to hide in a side corridor and wait until the gossiping women leave. But he perks up his ear excitedly when he hears what they're talking about—and that you're among them too.

"Na-Baron put on quite a show. Have you seen these muscles?" Feyd can barely keep from giggling. But he can't help but wonder how you assessed his... muscles.

He did it especially for you—to tease you a little with what you could have had that night if you hadn't run away from him like a scared little mouse. How many nights did he spend dreaming about catching you before that frail lord got you...

"Oh please. He's a cruel brute. Psychopath. Did you see how he treated that poor man? Moreover, most of his opponents were under the influence of drugs."

His hairless eyebrows furrow. He feels his rage rising; he wants to come out of his hiding place and show this royal bitch a real fight, but he knows that his uncle will kill him for laying a hand on the emperor's daughter.

"I'm not surprised at him. After all, he's the next Baron, they won't risk his life for some lame arena show."

"What do you think about it, Lady Y/N?"

Feyd licks his lips, eagerly waiting for your opinion on his fight. His heart beats fast as he wonders what you will say. Will you praise his fighting skills? Appearance? Ruthlessness and brutality? Or maybe you loathe it as much as Princess Irulan does?

He waited nervously, his heart beating fast as he waited impatiently for even one word from you.

"I… think we had a rather… interesting fight anyway. Regardless of the circumstances."

His excitement fades when you limit yourself to such a simple, diplomatic, and natural answer. He doesn't want to hear something like that from you. He wants your opinion; he wants to hear the burning heat in your voice as you express your true thoughts and emotions with great conviction, even if they go against what he wants. He wants your passion—the same passion he has experienced the few times he has had the opportunity to be around you.

"But it's not honorable! How dare they treat prisoners like this?" Irulan growls furiously at you.

"And in your country, how are they treated, my princess? They either end up in a noose or have their heads cut off. Here, maybe being under the influence of drugs isn't the best thing, but at least they have a dignified death for warriors—those who don't fight Na-Baron are fighting in the arena for their freedom and are not under the influence of any substance. I don't think this is the case in many countries. Besides, it boosts morale and entertains the people. Two birds with one stone."

Feyd feels a smirk involuntarily form on his lips. He knew that his little, wise swan would think just like he did. However, I regret that you do not praise his skills as a warrior but only focus on the usefulness of such fights. Next time, he will try harder for you. Maybe he will even give you the heart of the strongest warrior?

"Of course you'll flatter him, Lady Y/N. After all, he clearly has his eyes on you. I saw the way he looked at you the day you arrived—it was clearly love at first sight."

"Oh yes! And I saw him looking across the arena towards your box! He got so distracted by looking at you that one of the prisoners stabbed him in the side! It's so sweet, just like a real romance book."

Feyd freezes for a moment. Was it that obvious? He couldn't, right? Maybe he was accidentally looking for you in the crowd of other people, but... he couldn't be that easy to read, right?

"I would never dream of courting Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha, not even in your wildest fantasies my ladies. So maybe let's focus on the real, more likely matches that could happen this season."

At your words, Feyd clenches his hands into fists. How dare you so openly reject his possible advances? It was the best match in the empire. In fact, he could be a future emperor, and he'd damn well do it for you if that was all it took to get his hand in marriage. Seething with rage, his hand involuntarily went to the blade attached to his side. He had to find someone; he had to take it out on someone; but then again, he needed to hear more. Why does the thought that he adores you bother you so much? Did he do something to you? Has he offended you in any way? Was it your reluctance and disgust at the idea of having him as a suitor just because he was a Harkonnen?

"You mean your questionable engagement to my cousin?" Princess Irulan mocks you, fueling Feyd's anger both with the way she speaks to you and with your engagement to that weak piece of flesh wasting air in your presence.

"Why questionable, my princess? I think this would be the perfect match. Lady Whistledown herself devoted several of her paragraphs to it."

Feyd rolls his eyes at you. Have you also read the nonsense of some old lady who was bored enough to comment on events in the world of noble families? And here he thought that his swan was too smart for that...

"My cousin may be stupid and be fooled by a few pretty words and eyes, but he doesn't make rash decisions. He knows what kind of marriage will be best for him. He won't marry someone from a lesser family just because some anonymous writer is having fun spreading rumors."

"Do you have someone special for Lord Luwael in your mind, maybe?"

"I think we all know very well who I mean."

Feyd smiles, and for the first time, he is not hating the princess's existence. If she actually took this weak lord from you, the fight for your hand and heart would be much more enjoyable for him; after all, he wouldn't have to worry that you would marry some other man while he was trying his best to get closer to you. It would definitely make courting you easier if Irulan tried to charm your weak little lord...

"Hmm… possible. But tell us, princess, how's your Bene Gesserit training going? Has the Reverend Mother assigned you any task yet?"

"I believe this is none of your business."

Ah, so you knew. You knew that the Bene Gesserit were planning to marry him to Irulan—something he certainly wouldn't allow. But if he lets you believe it, would you fight for him? Would you try to convince him to stop chasing Irulan? You could. After all, you would see it as a threat to your position as empress. Feyd is curious what lengths you would go to if such a situation occurred—how far would you go in trying to seduce him and leave Irulan?

Feyd is no longer eavesdropping on the rest of your conversation. You pass him, and he quickly sneaks back to his chambers, changing his clothes. His mind races as he wonders what he should do now. And he decides to give you one last chance before he puts his plan into action.

The balls at Gieid Prime are… different from those you usually witness. The ballroom is lit by a thousand candles, the room is kept in semi-darkness, and you are more than convinced that some orgy is taking place somewhere in the corners and recesses of this huge hall.

You are just finishing your dance with Lord Luwael when Feyd-Rautha enters the hall. Na-Baron is greeted with loud applause and cheers. He smiles at the crowd of people, showing a row of night-black teeth. You shiver at the sight. You just don't know if it's out of fear or desire. You realise that every time you think he can't make himself a more terrible monster, he comes in like the bane of your existence and proves you dead wrong.

Oh how you wanted to finally leave Giedi Prime.

"Unfortunately, I think we should wish him a happy birthday. Everyone does it."

You nod at his words, seeing the rest of the guests actually gather around Feyd-Rautha. You place your hand in the crook of his arm and let him guide you towards Na-Baron. The alcohol you managed to drink without your companion's attention and the man's mere presence will give you a bit of courage. Although you know, if a real fight broke out between these two men, the candidate for your husband would probably faint from fear when he saw the first blood and lose it. What a pity he had such an annoying condition...

"Na-Baron. Happy birthday." Your companion says as you reach Feyda-Rautha. His blue, ocean-glacial eyes stare at the two of you, ignoring you for a moment to send an appraising glance towards the man whose arm you're holding. You see a strange tension building in the room between these two...

"Thank you very much, lord…"

"Luwael." He finishes for him, angry that he is not properly recognised and acknowledged by the Na-Baron.

"Ah yes. It slipped out of my mind. Wouldn't you be offended if I took the liberty of asking your lovely partner to dance? It's my birthday, after all." Na-Baron's attention is completely on you, and you wish he and Lord Luwael had spent more time on this little alpha male fight. You open your mouth, ready with an excuse to deny him the dance, but the man next to you speaks first.

"Of course. Enjoy yourself." Na-Baron gives him a smug smirk that only widens when Lord Luwael flinches at Feyd's black teeth.

You suppress a grimace and give your hand to the Harkonnen. He takes your hand with incredible gentleness and leads you to the centre of the room, right onto the dance floor. Before the dancing starts, he has the courage to take off your gloves. You give him a confused look, your heart beating faster, as he leans in to press a kiss on your hand. You shiver as the skin of your hand registers the now familiar shape of his plump lips.

He places his hand on your waist and connects your hand with his, leading you to the rhythm of a rather calm song.

"Such fire… and yet your anger does not reach Lord Luwael. What did he do to deserve this special treatment, my lady? Maybe you're worried about him after he fainted in the arena like some weak, little boy?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about." You say, turning your gaze away from him, wanting to spend the rest of the dance in silence. You keep your eyes peeled for Lord Luwael, but unfortunately, you can't find him anywhere. As if he had evaporated.

"Is it so, little swan?" A cold chill runs through you as you use the nickname for you that he used that night. You feel your world freeze for a moment. He continues to lead you in the rhythm of the dance, allowing himself to pull you a little closer to inhale the scent of your perfume, but you don't notice, terrified of what he told you he knew.

"I... no." You blurt out, trying to control your emotions, and put on the mask of indifference on your face again.

"Well... I guess you know. Your heart beats so fast, almost as fast as that night when I tasted your wonderful nectar straight from the source. You know there's nothing as sweet as your juices?"

"How dare you speak to me like that?!" You growl furiously, unconsciously digging your nails into his palm.

"So she can still hiss! And she even has claws. I remember how sweetly you scratched my neck with them before you ran away like a scared little bird."

"Shut up." You growl, feeling like you're starting to lose control of this whole conversation. And not just conversation. You noticed that you had somehow found yourself outside the ballroom. The music from there reaches you in the form of a gentle hum as it presses you against the wall of one of the empty corridors. You swallow, realising what a sh*t situation you are in.

"Or what? Watch your tone, little swan. It's my birthday. You should be nicer to me. I didn't actually hear you wish me a happy birthday; your little puppet did it for you."

"Unlike some, he is a real gentleman, not a puppet or monster."

"Ah, but we know very well that you don't want a gentleman. A gentleman wouldn't do to you the things I did to you, and we both know how deliciously you moaned under my touch and how you shuddered as my tongue tasted you. Do you think your weak lord can do to you the things I showed you in the darkness of your house planet? That he can satisfy your desire? That he can free you from your shackles of social conventions as I can free you? You need someone bigger than the lesser man. I've already told you that. You won't settle for a man like that."

"You do not know anything about me. One night—not even the whole night—spent under my skirts won't suddenly make you know my true desires. You have changed, Feyd-Rautha. You're not the same boy from the Lankiveil I used to know." He hums thoughtfully at your worlds, watching you carefully and curiously.

"Hmm… maybe you're right, little swan. I think I need to do more to convince you that I am right."

You sigh as his lips press against yours in a frenzied, passionate kiss. You punch his chest, trying to push him away, but he presses hard against you, pinning you against the wall. You feel the toned muscles of his body as he grinds against you, demanding full access to your mouth.

You bite his lip until it bleeds, but that only turns him on more. His strong, large hand cups your breast, squeezing it tightly. You let out a surprised moan, and his tongue somehow finds a way to slip into your open mouth.

The material of your dress tears under his strength; his hands pull your breasts out of your dress and caress them as if his life depended on it. His fingers graze over your sensitive nipples, and you can only moan into his mouth as he sends a warmth straight to your core that reminds you desperately of how his tongue was working so well to release you that you had denied yourself.

You come to the shameful conclusion that maybe you could have let him bring you to orgasm before you ran away from him.

His lips finally leave yours, but you don't enjoy this freedom for long. They move to your neck, licking and nibbling madly, as if someone were about to tear him away from you. And the worst thing about it all is that you don't really know if that's what you want.

You scream as his black teeth dig into your skin, leaving a mark in the crook of your neck. You hear the click of enamel against metal as he accidentally catches your necklace, but he doesn't move away; he just sinks his teeth into it, as if trying to split a diamond in half.

He pulls away from you; you see the blood on his plump lips—your blood—and it only makes you more aroused. His hand slips under your skirts and reaches to your core, caressing you teasingly. You gasp, closing your eyes and throwing your head back.

"Such a good little whore when she gets fingers and a few hickeys on her neck. Does your lord know what a shrew you are until someone kisses the venom from your lips? Does he know what fire burns inside you? Does he know what a wonderful feast you have between your legs for a thirsty man? Does he know you as well as I do? Has he seen how beautiful you look in the whirlwind of passion?"

His every question is punctuated by the rhythm of the thrusting of his fingers. You moan softly, holding back tears of pleasure, as he slowly brings you to the edge. You dig your nails into his shoulders, holding onto him with all your strength as he plays with your clit and sucks hickeys on your breasts.

"So sweet… so soft… so wet. And it's for me. Just for me. For Harkonnen. Say it. Tell me who fucks that little pussy so well with his fingers. Tell me who's driving you crazy. Tell me whose attention you really want, you wanton little bitch, and maybe I'll let you cum, despite the way you treated me… and on my own birthday…"

"I... you... you..." You gasp in rhythm with the thrusts of his fingers.

"Nah. Not like that. My name, beautiful little swan. Scream my name. Exactly the way you should have done that night in the garden." He whispers into your ear, biting the lobe. You moan as his fingers go deeper inside you, and his other hand caresses your breast, playing with your nipple.

"I... ah... Feyd.... Feyd, please..." You cry for him as your hips grind against his hand, seeking the sweet release that only he can give you.

"Yes…just like that…cum for me. Give me my birthday present and shout my name." You can only nod dumbly as you feel him take you over the edge. You bite down hard on his neck, refraining from making any noise as you tighten around his fingers, finally coming.

You gasp, feeling the metallic taste of his black blood on your tongue.

You move away from him as if burned. Your heart beats insanely fast as you stare at him, trying to process what happened. He pulls his finger out of you with a squelch, and you blush furiously. He puts his fingers in his mouth, sucking them. He moans at the taste of you, never breaking eye contact with you.

"Perfect birthday gift. Although I believe I can get more." Just as he moves to kneel between your legs, you hear the voices of the guards patrolling the halls. You push him away from you in panic and run forward, trying to improve your appearance a little.

This time, he's not after you. He didn't make any attempt to chase you. He allows you to traverse the halls of Giedi Prime without the feeling of his breath on your back, but you are very aware that you have miserably lost today's battle against him. He did exactly what he wanted with you and would have gone much further (and unfortunately, you would have let him) if you hadn't sobered up with the possibility of getting caught.

You told yourself that this was what you needed to get over him. After all, forbidden fruit always tasted the best, and once you experienced the Na-Baron's... undoubted skills, you could move on and marry a man who was the absolute opposite of him, a man with whom you didn't have to worry so much about the future, as with Feyd-Rautha.

Yes, this was what you needed—one last affair before the wedding—to make sure you're doing it right. Because what would await you as Na-Baron's wife, or, God forbid, concubine? Nothing good. The Harkonnens were the harbinger of misfortune, suffering, pain, aggression, and, apparently, good sex.

Whatever you and Na-Baron were doing, it had to end now.

"I'm supposed to be his wife?! This barbarian?! You can't do this to me, father! Feyd-Rautha will destroy the empire and plunge us into the blood of war and senseless brutality. He's a psychopath; can't you see it? Surely there must be another way to keep the throne!" Irulan's screams echo throughout the guest wing. Your eyes widen in surprise, the unpleasant pang in your chest only adding to your daze.

So the rumours were true. The emperor wants to give Irulan to Feyd. You don't like this idea very much. If the Harkonnens married into the Corrino family, your right to the throne of Emperor, or rather the right of Lord Luwael, would be in jeopardy. No one stood a chance against them.

You snap out of your daze when you see the door handle to Irulan's chambers begin to move. You quickly run to your room and close the door quietly behind you as you wonder what the hell just happened in these few hours.

You return to your chambers blushing and with a rapidly beating heart. You can still feel Na-Baron's lips vividly on your neck, and you're sure you'll have to cover it tomorrow so no one will see the hickeys that bastard gave you.

How stupid you were again! How could you let him get so close to you again and corner you when you were alone in his territory?! And what's worse, he knew that it was you who went with him to the garden that night; he knew and he wanted more from you...

You shudder as wicked thoughts enter your mind, all because of Na-Baron's tantalisingly absurd whispers. How could you enjoy his attack on you? How could you moan so loudly in a deserted corridor? How could you shout his name and attract the attention of the guards?

You were damn lucky that no one caught you, that Lord Luwael disappeared somewhere, and that he didn't see you giving yourself to this... this monster like a mindless whore. It had to be the alcohol. They must have put something in your drink; you couldn't just... enjoy the touch of a Harkonnen, a Harkonnen who just a few hours ago had slaughtered you in the arena before your eyes and was enjoying it like a little child enjoys a candy... A Harkonnen whose body was ethereal beautifully...

You are snapped out of your thoughts when your mother enters your room in a state of… extreme daze.

"Mother? Have something happened?" You ask her, worried that your little (another) tryst with the Na-Baron might have turned out to be not such a secret at all.

"Lord Luwael just asked for my consent to propose to you. You did very well, Y/N. You will be an empress."

You swallow nervously and smile, nodding your head. Your mother hugs you, and you feel millions of thoughts racing through your head. You will become empress, but only if Irulan and Feyd-Rautha don't marry, and there was only one way to make sure that would happen.

You had to play a game with the devil himself and seduce and deceive him until the day it would be too late for his marriage to Irulan and you and Lord Luwael would take the emperor's throne. But how the hell were you supposed to do that without getting burned?

Taglist: @iloved1lfs0 @heartarianagran

[lingering-42-long]

141 + extra Mother’s Day head cannons

A short little Head cannons for all of our favorite boys expressing their love to there girls who are mothers.

COD x Female Character

Warnings: none, fluff, adorable daddies.

Captain John Price

• he wakes you up with a kiss on the forehead and a coffee in hand.

• The little ones are still asleep and he just wants to spend time with the mother of his children.

• when your daughters and son decide that it’s time to get up, they are running around handing you flowers and cards and balloons with the words “Happy Mother’s Day” written on them.

• John is making you breakfast with the girls attempting to help and your son sitting on the counter coloring.

• every year he plans to take you out to a nice restaurant and you to go to watch a play at the local theater

• He gives you lots of kisses and tells you how amazing a mother you are.

• He gives you a spa treatment to use whenever you need and puts a crap ton of money on it as well as also giving you a Starbucks gift card with $100 on it knowing your coffee obsession.

Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

• you’re a mother to be and about eight months pregnant with your first born son.

• because of the trauma Simon had to go through all those years ago he never really understood what Mother’s Day was and so didn’t think much of it when it was coming around.

• after hearing what some of his friends were doing for their wives he thought it would be best to do some thing for you in a similar fashion.

• he doesn’t necessarily want to go out and do anything too extravagant. He doesn’t see the need to.

• but he understands that you are carrying his child his first born, his son so he feels very obligated and very protective of you.

• he buys you your favorite flowers and does a huge amount of online shopping for things for you and for the baby.

• One might think that just because he has no clue about Mother’s Day that he would be a horrible gift giver when that is simply not true. Simon is trained to study all the little details in life and so he knows exactly what your favorite things are right down to the exact color shade and style.

• this man has read so many parent books he knows exactly what his child needs well before the due date and advise you whatever you could possibly need to make your pregnancy as smooth as possible.

• he will take you to your favorite place at the park where you two can have a quiet lunch together.

• it may not be much but it’s the thought that counts. He’s not a emotionally opened person but for you he is trying so hard to make sure that you know how much he loves and appreciates you.

Sergeant Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish

• your son was the first one to wake you both up as he was screaming on the top of his lungs saying happy Mother’s Day.

• Johnny just laughs and gives you a kiss, wishing you also a happy Mother’s Day before getting jumped on by his son desperately trying to wake up his parents so he could have breakfast, and show you his artwork that he had been working on for you.

• he bought you a really pretty and expensive pair of earrings and matching necklace. Don’t ask him how much it was.

• Johnny asks his parents if they could watch his son for the day as he takes you out for a couples massage and goes thrift shopping with you.

• this is a fun hobby that you guys have and enjoy doing.

• sometime during dinner at a simple bistro that you guys like to go to, he whispers into your ear about growing the family.

• let’s just say baby number two is on its way

Sargent Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

• he is very new at being a father only having two months with his newborn daughter.

• like Simon, he doesn’t know what to do for you for Mother’s Day so he calls his mom for help.

• She suggests that he do some thing for you or give something to you to make her feel special.

• he decides that he would watch the baby for the day while you go get your hair done your fingernails done and get a massage as well as give you some money to go buy some clothes and to hang out with your girlfriends.

• he’s not the best cook so he decides to order takeout for you both at one of your favorite pizza restaurants.

• when you get back home he sets the table up real nicely and make sure to get you some really pretty flowers and your favorite chocolate from the store.

• he also orders your favorite wine.

• Once your baby girl has fallen asleep, you both decide to watch a cheesy Romcom.

• it’s really simple but it’s the perfect Mother’s Day gift you could ever ask for.

Commander Alejandro Vargas

• this man is already making you breakfast for the day. His two older children have gone to hang out at one of their friends places while the youngest, a three-year-old, was in her highchair eating breakfast.

• he brings the food to you as you’re just waking up.

• Like Johnny, he bought you a beautiful set of earrings and necklace that the kids helped picked out.

• he’s going to take you out to a really nice restaurant and later dancing so he make sure to get you a nice dress that he knows that you would like.

• he buys every single rose from every single flower shop in Las Almes

• giving you neck kisses from behind as you’re getting ready.

•Asked his single brother to watch the baby while the other kids are having a sleep over at their cousins house.

• he spent the whole night pampering you and telling you how much he loves you and thanking you for his children.

• Spent the rest of the night having spicy time on the couch and bedroom.

Sergeant Major Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

• because your two year-old son has a severe infection and is in the hospital, you both decide not to do some thing extravagant since most of your money is going towards taking care of the little one.

• with that being said, that doesn’t mean that he isn’t going to try for you.

• he is a simple man but he does what he can for you to make you happy.

• for some odd reason all of the roses in Las Almes are all sold out, so he buys a really nice mixed bouquet that he knows that you like.

• he also gives you a simple gift card to your favorite coffee shop with a cute card to go with it.

• you order takeout and have it delivered to the hospital, where you guys are at making sure that your son is ok.

• even though it’s not the Best Mother’s Day, you too are just happy to be together with your son.

König

• he always thinks really hard about what you would like for Mother’s Day.

• he’s not a social butterfly but he’ll make an exception for you. So if you want to go out to a restaurant he will do that for you.

• this man is just happy that he was able to find someone that loves him, and has given him two beautiful twin girls and one sweet boy.

• you too decide to do some thing super easy with the kids and take them to a park in his hometown in Austria.

• he looks like he’s on the verge of tears because of how happy you have made him.

• he gets overwhelmed easily with emotion.

• after going to the park he cooks you all a really good meal and the girls help him.

•After dinner, the both of you Play board games with the girls as your son is asleep in his bassinet.

• makes some hot chocolate for everyone.

• when the girls go to sleep, he pulls out a book that he wants to read with you.

• you two fall asleep in each others arms.

Alex Keller

• this dude is a Golden retriever when it comes to love. He gets so excited when he gets to spend Mother’s Day with you and his newborn son.

• since you just had the baby you’re still in the hospital, and he makes sure to take care of all your needs while you get pampered by him. He buys you a really cute t-shirt with the words ‘mamma bear’ on it.

• he gets you sushi from your favorite Japanese restaurant.

• plays card games with you and lets you win.

• watches TV with you in the hospital room while holding your hand and telling you how proud he is and he hopes to grow the family more in the future.

Philip Graves

• is a southern boy so his mama always taught him how to treat a lady.

• Think 1940s gentleman

• most people think he would have a son but he has a little girl instead.

• is a super proud daddy of his baby girl and even more proud of his wife.

• unfortunately for this Mother’s Day, he’s away with the shadow company in Mexico so he’s unable to spend Mother’s Day with you.

• he does send you a text letting you know how much he misses you and to have a amazing Mother’s Day.

• he sends you $1000 to go spend on whatever you want for your day since he knows that he won’t be able to splurge on you like he usually does.

• he cannot wait to get back home to you and his little girl.

[dragons-and-handcuffs]

Maegor Targaryen x niece!readee

Warning: age gap, manipulative reader, in**st

A/N: There will be a part 2 probably but not sure at the moment

You always imagined you were going to marry your uncle to further the pure Targaryen bloodline. You have loved him and wanted him ever since you became a woman, but now are rumors going on that the council is advising Maegor, the king, to arrange your marriage to Lord Baratheon or Lord Lannister to have a strong alliance. You don't want that. You want to marry Maegor and become the queen, his other wives are irrelevant to you

You knew how to get Maegor and made a plan. That night you went to your uncle's room, wearing a very revealing night gown but acting innocent about it. The guards didn't dare try to stop you from going to his room. He was with one of his wives and she was on his knees pleasuring him with her mouth, it was more like Maegor roughly using her mouth.

"Uncle, I need to talk to you," You said softly and innocently. Maegor's eyes turned dark as soon as he saw you in the see through revealing night gown and he started to use his wife's mouth faster, and soon cum in her mouth. As soon as her job was done he dismissed her and she ran out of the room.

"What can I do for my dear niece?" Maegor asked as he sat down, all his attention on you and your beautiful body. "I have heard rumors that you are going to arrange my marriage with old lord Baratheon or Lord Lannister," You said softly as you poured him a cup of win gave it to him. You also picked up a wash clothes to get him cleaned up after he used his wife.

"The rumors's are true," Maegor said as he looked at you, his eyes mostly down your dress as you were on your knees and gently cleaning him with the wash cloth. "I don't want to marry them uncle," You replied. "Lord Baratheon is too old and Lord Lannister has already been married three times," You looked up at him with your innocence filled eyes.

Maegor gently caressed your cheek and pulled you up to sit on his lap. He threw away the wash cloth and held your hand, your soft skin gently brushing against his cock. "Then what do you want, my beautiful niece? You know I will throw all the alliances away for your happiness."

"I want to stay here by your side always. I want to be your wife and give you heirs," You replied. "I love you uncle, I always have and I don't want to ever leave you." Maegor was melted by your words. It's not like he never craved you, and he loves you the most or at least you are the only one he genuinely wants.

His grip around you tightened, his hand slowly moving from your waist to your breasts which are almost exposed because of the low cut of the night gown. "Then you will be by my side always. You will become my wife and we will further our pure bloodline," Maegor said before capturing your soft lips in a deep passionate kiss. Of course you kissed him back, his tongue dominating you. You can feel his cock now completely hard. As the kiss deepened you gave attention his cock with your soft hands which made Maegor go crazy.

He picked you up and took you to bed, and easily ripped apart the thin material of your dress. You have been dreaming of this moment for a long time and it is finally happening now. One last time you played innocent, trying to cover yourself with your hands. "Your wives and the council will not be happy if claim me before we get married," You said, sounding concerned, but in reality you were craving him. You want him to claim you. You were getting very wet between your legs and want him to use you.

"I don't care about them," Maegor said as he removed your hands and pinned them over your head. He kissed you again and started teasing you with his fingers. He was pleased to find how wet his beautiful young niece is for him. A gasp lep your lips when he pushed his finger inside you, it was music to his ears. He could feel how tight your virgin cunt his and can't wait to properly fuck you.

His cock was big but you believed it was made to fit your holes perfectly. It was the highest cunt Maegor has ever claimed and he was pleased it's yours.

The entire night he fucked you. Your moans were heard in the halls but you didn't care. He kissed and marked you everywhere, his seeds filled your womb.

After he pulled out he kissed your forehead and both slept, his arms caging you.

The next morning one of his wives came to do their duty and wake him up by pleasuring him but you ordered her to just step aside and not disturb. You kissed Maegor's lips and then started sucking his big cock.

The wife was shocked by the incestuous act as she thought you were marrying old lord Baratheon.

Maegor soon woke up and it felt like heaven. He let you pleasure him with you mouth a bit longer and then pinned you to the bed again before claiming your sore cunt again.

After he was done he ordered his wife to clean you up. She had no choice but to obey. He watched and talked as his wife gave you a warm bath which relaxed your body.

"Lord Baratheon and Lannister are joining us for the feast tonight. I want you to be by my side when I tell them the change of plans," Maegor said as you got out of the water. "Of course, my king," You smiled. You know there is now no one who can stop the union of you and Maegor now.

Since he ripped apart you night dress and you had nothing to wear, Maegor put his cloak around you himself. You two kissed but this time it was more gentle. "Take some rest, my beautiful niece. We will announce our wedding at the feast tonight."

Part 2?

[dejwrites]

❪ ♡ ❫ ─── ( synopsis ) college boy toji proves that you're the only girl he has eyes on.

♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — reader discretion is advised: female reader, female anatomy described, her/she pronouns, feminine pet names, written with black reader in mind, third pov, college au, college boy!toji, he’s an international student in the states, hints at reader & him going to nyu, reader and toji in their early 20’s, reader calls him 't', alcohol usage, mentions of a hangover, a little angst, profanity, toji’s last name is zenin in this, friends with benefits trope, mentions of zenin family, toji’s a business major, mentions of pets (toji has a doberman named taichi), oral (f.receiving), doggystyle position, exhibitionism, flirty toji, you’re his #1 girl, early bday post for toji

❪ ♡ ❫ ─── click here for jjk masterlist. click here for ao3 link.

TWENTY-ONE-YEAR-OLD TOJI ZENIN SLUMPED DOWN INTO HIS SEAT IN THE BACK OF THE LECTURE HALL. Heavy bags under his eyes, headache clawing at the back of his skull, and running on 2 hours of sleep. When he plopped down in his seat, he flipped open his notebook to half-listen to the professor. The professor was boasting about the infamous wives of kings in different countries. He was late, very late. It was only his second semester at NYU as a business administration major, and he could already feel himself falling behind. He was sent overseas for school because his family thought it would help shape him for the family company back in Japan. Still, his last semester started with attending parties and social events (some on behalf of his family). Then on top of that, his younger cousin was also in town, so he was a major distraction. 

Within the stressful semesters and maintaining an image under a microscope from his family overseas, he met a gorgeous girl Y/N. The two had a pretty complicated relationship—they met at a party, and he hated to admit that he was falling for her. Toji adored seeing her on campus, and he damn sure loved staring at her during this elective women’s history course. On days when he wasn’t hungover, he would poke Y/N with his pen until she snapped at him to stop. But today, Toji slumped in his seat, doodling in his notebook.

“You should pay attention. This is going to be on the quiz this Friday,” Y/N whispers as she’s writing in her notebook.

“That’s what I have you for,” Toji says as he gives her some tired grin that causes her to roll her eyes.

Y/N rolled her eyes at the man because she hated that it was true. Toji and herself met at a party with him flirting with her the whole night. She ignored him, considering that she had heard so much about him from other women. Yet, it was Y/N’s luck that she entered this class and saw him sitting in the back of the class at the start of the semester.

She didn’t understand why he would be taking a course like this, but she wasn’t going to get him talking. After all, when Toji spoke about himself, he couldn’t stop. Perhaps, that’s why she liked him. He was a confident guy that knew what he wanted. Y/N didn’t expect the two to start an immature friends-with-benefits relationship. Even though, on some days, she’ll spot him flirting with other girls in exchange for accounting notes. He still manages to make her cheeks grow hot with his witty comments and captivating smile.

But the one thing the young woman hated was seeing him like this. His head was on the cold desk and his eyes closed, not paying attention. This education could have gone to someone who wanted to be here. Y/N’s teeth grazed upon her plump lip gloss-covered lips as she inched her chair closer to him. She lets her hand travel to Toji’s lap as she places her pen down. Her hands rubbed at his crotch until she could feel him squirming under her touch. His head still lying on the table with the hood to his NYU pull-over hoodie on turned towards her. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, baby,” He says as he tugs his chair further under the table.

“Oh, hush,” Y/N says as she unbuttoned his jeans quickly. Her curious eyes stared ahead at the clock, ten more minutes until the class ended. That’s enough time.

When Toji felt her hand in the comfort of his pants, his head shot up to lean back in his seat. His teeth grated at his lower lip as a slight hiss escaped his mouth. He tuned out the professor lecturing about the downfall of Marie Antoinette.

“I’m sure you can be quiet, huh?” Y/N questions as her hand glide up and down his thick shaft. Her thumb brushed against his thick pink tip that leaked with precum.

“Shit,” Toji uttered under his breath. His body was radiating so much heat at the moment, and it wasn’t coming from the layers of clothes he was wearing.

“Okay, I will be releasing you guys early. Please use the time to study for the quiz next quiz.”

Toji’s body seemed to go through shock when Y/N removed her hand from his pants. A cold chill goes down his spine as he’s quick to button his pants so no one can see. Toji quickly stuffed his belongings inside his bookbag to catch up with Y/N, who had already exited the class. He nearly knocked down some students trying to chase after her. With her brown skin glistening with each step she took through the halls and her head held up.

“Y/N, Wait up!” Toji’s jogging up to her, chest heaving up and down, and a look of determination on his face. His face flushed with color due to the teasing brief handjob she gave him. He grabs a hold of her forearm to put a halt to her walking.

“Toji, I have a class to get to,” Y/N huffs as she looks at him.

“And I said don’t start something you can’t finish,” He reminded.

“It was something to wake your lazy ass up,” Y/N says as she looks at him. She adjusted the tote bag on her shoulders. “Now, can I go to my class now?” She questioned.

“Well, I’m up now.” Toji would say before his hand was dragging her into one of the smaller classrooms.

“Toji.”

“Y/N.”

“We can’t do this here, what if someone walks in,” Y/N questions.

He stepped closer to her with such lust in his eyes. She’s mentally cursing herself for waking up such a beast, but she enjoyed teasing him. He tugged at her strings so much that Y/N wasn’t afraid to tug at his right back once in a while. With each step he took, she took one back until she hit the teacher’s desk in the middle of the lecture hall.

The two were close, with Toji’s curious green hues staring at her lips. His fingertips traced alongside her side and it sent a chill down her spine effortless. “No one is going to walk in. This class always is empty for an hour or so.”

“How would you know that?” Y/N questioned, her hands going up to toy with the strings on his hoodie. Her eyebrows knit together in curiosity. “Have you fucked other women in here because if you did-”

“You’re always assuming I’m fucking someone else,” Toji pointed out. He then lifts her up to place her on the desk which she didn’t argue against.

“Because when are you not fucking other women?” Y/N asked as she watched him toy with the ends of the skirt she wore.

Toji kissed his teeth as he took up the space between Y/N’s legs. “I’m not having sex with other women, Y/N. I only want you.” He would mumble his last couple of words on her skin while he was kissing her neck.

“Mhmm.” Y/N hummed as she craned her neck to the side giving Toji more access to her neck.

“You don’t believe me?” Toji questioned as he tore his lips away from her neck. His green-colored eyes stared into hers waiting for a response. If you asked Toji when he first moved here for university if he would be strung by some girl, he wouldn’t believe you. But here Toji was trying to defend his case that he’s actually been keeping his dick in his pants. Toji’s heart was growing a little warmer for Y/N.

Y/N looked up at him. Her curious eyes stared into his eyes to search for any clue for his foolishness. Toji was still young like any other guy on the campus. Which meant that he still wanted to fool around with other women. Yet, Toji was right here pleading his case. Toji’s fingers lingered a bit higher each second as they sat in silence in the small lecture hall. Y/N’s felt her body get so hot, feeling Toji’s callous fingers on the inside of her thighs. “Do you want me to prove it?” Toji questioned.

Y/N’s teeth caught into her lower lip, but the larger man did gain a nod from the woman. Toji’s muscular frame towered down as he reached up Y/N’s skirt to tug the lace panties she wore down. Her underwear dangled from her ankle as he would kneel down between her legs. His plush lips littered kisses on the inside of her thighs. Toji felt under an intense spell when he got a whiff of Y/N’s sweet scent. It was a scent of home, something he had no clue what was with his delusional family back in Japan. She had the scent of warmth and sweetness. He’d grown to love it so much when he started to spend more time with her.

“Toji..” Y/N let out a shaky breath while she was squirming under his touch. Which only led to Toji’s arms pinning her still. It was like pinning a paper doll together with small pins so it won't fall apart. “We’re going to get caught.”

“Not if you keep it down, now please relax. Let me prove it to you,” Toji’s words seem to become less clear to Y/N when she felt the flat of his tongue licking at her puffy lips.

Y/N inhaled nattily as she placed her hand on the wooden desk to hold herself up. Her eyes peered down at Toji who was under her skirt. The lewd sound of him collecting her wetness caused her to chew at her lower lip. She was afraid of letting out any noise. In fear that if they got caught her college years would be over and thrown in the trash. But when she felt Toji’s mouth latch onto her clit, a low yelp escaped her mouth. Y/N’s body fell back onto the wooden desk and her hands desperately tugged her skirt up further around her waist.

Toji’s grip on Y/N thighs only tightened with each second he spent lapping up her arousal like a thirsty lap dog. His nose nuzzled at Y/N’s soft skin as his tongue that lingered with her slick flicked at her clit. His right hand released from holding her thighs open so he could enjoy his meal. Toji’s fingertips traced alongside the inside of Y/N’s thighs. His subtle touch sent a tingle down Y/N’s spine as she grew impatient due to his teasing. Her lips soon gasped apart, feeling Toji’s finger rub at her lips, collecting her wetness with ease. His thumb brushed against his clit and he began to rub circular motions upon it.

Y/N let out a moan at his sudden action before she could feel him insert his index and middle finger into her wet cunt. Her hand went up to muffle her cries while Toji’s fingers gradually pumped through her. Y/N let out a string of moans before her hand grasped at Toji’s black strands of hair. Her groans of pleasure were like music to Toji’s ears. Like his dog, Taichi’s ears shot up in excitement when he was happy. Toji’s ears burn with so much heat, hearing her sweet moans.

He pulled forward to latch onto her clit while his fingers moved inside her. His tongue slurped up any wetness that leaked out of her cunt. He continued to push his fingers inside her with ease. The lewd sound of Y/N’s wetness coating his fingers caused Toji to grow even harder in his jeans. Curling his fingers slightly to attempt to hit that one spot that caused her toes to curl, Toji’s nose was nuzzling at the soft skin upon her pussy—her pubes tickling his nose, but he didn’t care.

“Toji…I’m going to cum.” Y/N moaned out as her back arched off the wooden desk.

When she felt his fingers pull out of her, she felt empty. She mentally wanted to yell at herself for letting him have such power over her. Y/N’s eyes filled with tears as she watched him again stand on his feet. Her cunt was desperate to feel him inside her once again.

“Stand up and turn around,” Toji commanded.

The dominance that lingered off his tongue caused Y/N to stand up immediately. Before turning around, Toji tugged her in for a kiss. His tongue slides down her throat with so much aggression. When he pulled back suddenly, he said to her, “Wanted you to taste how amazing you taste to me.”

Y/N’s cheeks burnt with so much heat before she twirled around, urging him to fill her up again. Her hands were on the desk, waiting for Toji’s girth to stretch her out. She could feel his large hands gripping the flesh of her butt before he pushed her back down. Y/N could feel Toji’s plump tip brush against her entrance. A soft whine escaped her lips. “T, stop teasing.”

She knew Toji was smirking behind her before he pushed himself inside her. Her lips parted apart as she felt him stretch her fully. Despite the two having sex many times, each time, she still found herself gasping like an idiot at his size. Toji was eager to rock his hips forward to feel the addicting way her walls clenched around her. His fingertips rubbed random shapes on her waist, waiting for her to give him the go-to continue. “Relax, Y/N. I got you, baby girl,” Toji says.

Y/N relaxed under Toji’s touch before she began to back herself upon his waist. She could hear Toji chuckle before he cooed at her like some superior. “Look at you, getting a bit desperate.” He expresses.

Toji began to roll his hips upon her ass. The pornographic sound of their skin slapping against each other only boosted Toji’s ego even more. His thrusts grew more aggressive with each moan that escaped Y/N’s mouth. How his name rolled off her tongue caused his brain to go fuzzy. Or maybe it was the way her pussy clenched around him like a perfectly fitted glove. Either or was driving him insane at the moment. His large hands gripped at her ass as he lunged forward some more. “Fuck..” He uttered to himself.

Toji’s eyes looked down at Y/N. He realized how beautiful Y/N looked right now. Her fucked out expression was a stunning sight to see. Her lip gloss was smudged across her lips, tears spilling out her eyes, and gosh, those moans. They were beautiful to Toji.

Toji would prompt Y/N’s leg on the desk so he could thrust deeper inside her drooling cunt. His larger form hunched over hers as he’s rocking his hips forward in a rhythmic motion. Y/N’s hands flew back to push at Toji’s torso. Her cries echoed in the lecture hall while her briny tears stained her cheeks. “Toji…too much.” Y/N mewled.

Toji chews at his lower lip as he grabs Y/N’s hands to place upon her butt to spread herself wider for him. “It’s too much, but I can feel your pussy squeeze around me with each thrust, so what’s the truth, baby?” He cooed as his hips bucked forward to place kisses upon her cervix.

The only thing Y/N could let out was a string of moans of his name. Her drool decorated the wooden desk below her as he fucked her practically dumb. Which only led to the growing sensational pit forming at the bottom of her abdomen. When Toji glanced down, seeing how Y/N’s pussy swallowed him whole, he was close to telling the woman he was in love.

“Look at that; you’re taking it so well, baby girl.” He praised.

When Toji felt Y/N’s walls clutch around him, he knew he was close to tumbling down with her. His hips rocked into the soft flesh of Y/N’s ass. Toji let out a low groan as he could feel his balls grow heavy and tight. His fingernails dug into her waist as his thrusts grew slowly and sloppier. Toji’s larger frame hunched over as he could feel himself cum. His thick cum splattered upon Y/N’s walls while his mouth uttered an exhausted groan.

“T....” Y/N moaned as she could feel him slowly tug himself out of her. Her chest was rising, and embarrassment waved over her body. The young woman tried to process everything while her legs still felt like a fresh bowl of jello.

Toji had zipped his pants right up. His forearm went up to wipe the sweat that lingered on his forehead. He would lean down, pulling Y/N’s underwear back on her. A cocky smirk displayed on his face as he got a glimpse of his cum dripping out of her addicting cunt.

“You’re so annoying,” Y/N uttered as she turned to face him.

With a cheeky grin on his face, Toji tugged her skirt down. “You love it, though. Now let’s go.” He says as he’s leaning down to collect his book bag and soon extends his hand to her.

“Where are we going?” Y/N asked. “Plus, we still have class, you know?”

“I’ll get a doctor to write us a doctor’s note.” Toji bluntly admitted. “Now let’s get some food, and you a plan b.” His index finger tapped at Y/N’s nose, and she could only roll her eyes at his behavior.

“You’re so annoying.” She repeated once again, but she grabbed hold of his hand so he could lead her out of the lecture hall.

It was something about Toji Zenin that caused the young woman’s heart to flutter. But she had to remind herself that getting even more tangled with him would only hurt her in the end.

TAGS — @maydayaisha @eiflawriting @takemichiluvr @stunnababyyabyyy @suunmic @neesiewrote @potofstewie @lacy111 @pocketfulofposies @destiiny-prtt @animetypagirlsstuff @sexbob-ombbeck @hyuene @rindouzfav @lostwanderr @comatosebunny09 @chosoguapo @melaninmight @lunarecilpse @thirstyforjeann @blueparadis @syomi @soumies @pyrusplantae @510hz @angelwa @diorlov3er @kiraricard @si00p @airheqds @getosbunny @atesumu @dark-night-hero @venusflytrapstar @sirenh4ll @vqmpirw

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Tell Me Lies

Tommy Shelby X Wife Reader

Request for @luvlesavyy

Request: What if Thomas found himself in a sticky situation? What if he had to be compelled to pretend that he had betrayed his beloved wife, whom he holds dearly in love with, in order to protect her and their child? What if Tommy received life threatening letters from his gems? He lies to his wife, tells her he cheated on her, all this to keep them away from the harm he can bring to their lives... How would this story end? Would she forgive him after he found the letters, threatening her and her firstborn's lives, in Tommy's office drawer?

(They spent a week apart, and she had constant back pain, Polly said she was pregnant. Now what? Pregnant, with the love of her life, who "cheated" on her. Wonder what she's going to do about it? Will you tell Tommy when you discover the letters?).

Hey love,

Sorry this took so long but I didn't forget about you. I've never been the kind for the silent anger type of thing. Changed a few of the details around but I hope you enjoy this <3 Thanks for being so wonderful!

Warnings: pregnancy, cheating, screaming, passing out, hitting, biting, extreme anger & the usual peaky themes

Tommy was used to the bitter taste of whiskey doing absolutely nothing to calm his nerves. He stares at the telephone wishing that he had just imagined the phone call he had received. He pulled a red package of documents out of the top drawer of his dresser. He had finally been advised to open it. Now that he knows what is being asked of him he wants nothing more than to throw it in the fireplace. 

For the first time, he really felt that he was flying too close to the sun. Everything he had started was for his siblings and aunt, now every day was for his wife and child. 

How could he turn his back on all of them, on you, even for a second? What could he say to you that would keep you away? If he told you the truth, then Polly and Esme would be dragged into it and all of a sudden it would be a family trip to Austria. His stomach gave a lurch and he put his head in his hands. 

He had to lie to you. 

He would have to tell you something horrible so you would let go of him for the week-long mission. Then he could come crawling back with the papers as evidence. Sure, he would spend the rest of his life on the couch in his study, but at least you would be safe, at least you would still be his. 

He could try to refuse. 

How many wives and children would die if he did? Would you want to be married to that man? Looking at the papers in the file it was his own family on the chopping block if he refused.

“Fuck” He swore slamming his hands against his desk. 

______________________________________________________________

“What’s wrong.” You said looking at him with sharp eyes. You could tell just by the way he held himself that he had gone and done something stupid. 

“I have to go away for a bit.” His eyes were focused on you in a way that made it hard to look away. 

“Why?” 

“I can’t tell you.” He said firmly and you could tell your husband wanted you to accept this answer. 

“I’m your wife. Spit it out, Tommy.” You said crossing your arms. You hadn't been in this position since you were dating. Once married in you were at every meeting, involved in every dollar, and every conflict. Okay, you weren't directly involved in every conflict but you helped out in areas that weren't covered with gunfire. 

“Look, something's come up and I need to see to it, I really don't want to -” 

“I don’t care what you want Thomas. Do what’s right and tell me.” The anxiety was starting to bubble up and turn into rage the way it always did. You hated when people lied to you. 

“I got a phone call last night. Someone I may have had an entanglement with has had a child. She’s saying it’s mine.” The words fell between you and you knew something was off. You assumed he was just hiding the juicy details of his affair. Now a child is out there. Whose child would he father? His wife’s or his mistress? 

You stood there feeling a familiar hysteria build up inside you. This time you didn't have to push it down. Charlie was with Esme and the cousins for the night. You could make him pay. 

The feeling started to radiate into your limbs and you were freed from your initial shock. You picked up the crystal vase on the side table beside the couch. You threw it at him. 

Head on where he was sitting at his desk.  He narrowly missed it. His eyes flared with shock. You picked up every single thing you could reach and threw it at him. He stood up and charged towards you and you welcomed it. 

You wanted him to hit you first. You wanted blood. It was your turn to cause trouble. He tried to grab your arms and you smacked his chest as hard as you could. He got his arms around you and you bit into his shoulder hard enough to draw blood. Hope his mistress likes that scar. 

You screamed at him. You told him every single bad thing you could think of. You told him he was the reason the family was cursed. That his mother killed herself to get away from him. You screamed your own curse on his life. 

You screamed and screamed until you cried. A deep sob that unraveled years of strength. Everything you had done for this family, just to be replaced as Lizzie once said you would be. 

This was beyond anger and betrayal. This was beyond human. You felt your mind become otherworldly and your vision narrowed in. The blackened edges of your vision collided and you weren't screaming anymore. You had dissolved into nothingness and it was blissful. 

______________________________________________

You woke up and he was gone. The family was in complete chaos over the news. Arthur was actually crying on and off, apologizing for his stupid little brother. He and John held the business together under Polly’s direction. 

Polly eventually sat you down and told you the news once everyone had come to say they were sorry and how they would be helping. It was like being a widow at a funeral. 

A pregnant widow. 

“You're joking.” You took in a sharp breath. “And that is not very funny at a time like this.” Your voice was high and she grabbed your face with two hands. 

“It’s not a joke. You’ll be fine.” Her eyes were so intense it put you at ease. 

Esme reassured you and decided to stay with you at Arrow House for a while. The kids were used to being lumped together and they had no problem looking after themselves for the most part. Charlie was 6 so he didn't have a hard time keeping up with his cousins. 

The two of you rot in bed and she did what she could to keep your blood pressure from rising. You could see it in her eyes though, she was pissed as hell and you were sure she would make Tommy feel it too when the time came. 

If he ever came back. Your heart gave a painful clench and while you were alone in the bath there was no one to judge you for crying. It was a soft moment you allowed yourself. It felt shameful, it felt like letting him win. It was stupid but you felt like you were just a girl getting your heart broken again. This time it felt final. Your heart would not survive this. 

But your family loved you. That was obvious from the cooked meals and even Arthur was around helping with the kids at bedtime. You could hear him and John reenacting all the monsters they fought when they had lived on the boat as kids. You even caught yourself laughing a few times at the wild stories.

It was almost a week since that night and you were starting to feel just as betrayed but you had your head back on your shoulders. In the middle of the night, you decided to see if this woman had written him any letters. You weren't sure why but you were obsessed with finding out who this woman was. Why could she steal him away from you so easily when you had done nothing but give him everything?

You went into his study and shut and locked the door. While you turned the latch you wondered where they had sex? Was it here? The office? The backseat of his car? The rage started to bubble up again and a hand went to your stomach. You took some deep breaths thinking about what a divorce would mean. 

His - scratch that, your family would still love you. You would get to pick a new house and decorate it however you wanted. Fill it full of books and do nothing other than look after Charlie and read. You took another big breath and moved over to his desk. 

You pulled open the drawers in his desk and started to pick through everything. You knocked on the bottom of the first drawer when you saw that the woodwork didn't quite line up. You remembered from all your spy novels that it could have a false bottom. You grabbed a letter opener and started to pry it open. 

It came loose with a pop and you pulled out lots of extra copies of passports and documentation for your family. A cold shudder ran through you. You picked up your fake passport to see that he had named you, Arbella Shelby, maiden name Sutherland. You let out a snort as that was a character in a Highlander romance novel you adored. Why would he remember something so stupid when he was plowing another woman the whole time.

You reached into the hidden compartment a little further and pulled out a red envelope. It was made with very expensive card stock. You opened it and read through the document carefully. 

He had been sent away to aid in the assassination of an English spy hiding in Austria.

Your brain hurt and you took another few breaths and kept reading. 

It only got worse. Any outside interference would result in death. Failure to complete the mission would result in his death. Failure to accept the assignment and the government will move forward with prosecuting the remaining members of the Shelby family for acts against the crown. You read down the list of names and ran a finger over your name, following it was the rest of the family. You also noticed that Esme and John’s older kids were on the list. 

He needed to leave without us going to find him. 

He lied to protect you. 

It got hard to breathe and you had to try and remain calm. You let out a weird sort of choking sound then threw up into a plant pot. Polly found you moments later. 

“Breathe.” You let her grip your shoulders and tried to follow her breathing but your vision went dark again and you were out. 

_______________________________________________

When you woke up Polly was pacing the room and shouting at someone in a hushed voice. 

“You should have told us.” She hissed. “What if something had happened to you.” 

“Churchill would have sent the news. Then she would know what had happened.” Tommy answered in a low and steady voice. He sounded exhausted. 

“What if you had failed! They would have shipped us off to jail again.” She snapped. “She almost lost the baby over this mess Thomas.” 

“Only if I had refused the job,” Tommy answered and he sounded so tired. You opened your eyes and watched them stare each other down. 

“Promise me it won't happen again.” You mumbled. 

“I wish I could.” He closed his eyes and looked positively exhausted. 

“Let me talk to Churchill.” Your whisper still conveying your anger. Tommy gave you a big smile. You finally registered how battered his face was. 

“I have papers saying you lot won't be used as collateral again.” He held his whiskey glass up to his cheek. 

“Tommy, if i thought that the family and our children would get killed I would manage to stay away.” You said knowing that tears were starting to spill down your cheeks. Polly took in a breath and you knew she was going to lay into him properly now that you were awake. 

“I’m sorry.” He said simply. His eyes opened and locked on yours. You knew he meant it. Shock crossed Polly’s face.

“I didn't think you knew those words.” She said waving her hand in the air. 

“Okay.” You said not wanting to be apart for a moment longer. There was ringing in your ears and you knew he was sorry. You knew he wouldn't do it again. Tommy was a lot of things, but he never hurt you the same way twice. He always learned from his mistakes. 

You started taking some deep breaths trying to get your head to stop throbbing. Esme came through with a mug of tea and Tommy put his drink down to help you into an upright position. 

“Tea will help with the headache.” She said her eyes darting to Tommy. 

“Esme?” He said calmly.

“What.” She answered looking skeptical. 

“Thanks for looking after her.” He held her gaze and she nodded at him. The rest of the family piled in and discussed the events of the past week. The tea brought the ringing in your ears and the throbbing in your head down to a normal level. 

Charlie came through and climbed up on his father's lap. Tommy’s arm fit around him and he continued talking about what needed to happen moving forward when dealing with Mosley. 

You had hope for his cause. You rested in his arms and found your way back to him out of the darkness that had been threatening to swallow you.

[rius-cave]

I imagine lucifer being like searching on Reddit now like "r/AskReddit: how do I flirt with the guy I helped to kill and beat up and that now it's in hell, My kindom, and it's in My daugther hotel trying to get out of here and I fucked his two wives in the past and married one and she left me for seven years. Idk if that last one is important but just in case. Any advise? He's the first cock"

"HE'S THE FIRST COCK" SDKFJDSGFSDGFDSAFSF AS IF THAT ADDS ANY CONTEXT WHATSOVER

[mimicofmodes]

In 1743, ... The Lady's Preceptor advised readers to teach any daughter 'enough arithmetic to prevent her being deceived by merchants'. Economic literacy was considered essential for eighteenth-century women, whether they were wives, mothers, daughters or single. Financial education equipped women with the required skills to navigate the perilous commercial market. ... Economic self-awareness was tied into an expectation amongst the genteel that women should document their consumer lives: what they owned, what was owed to them, and what they owed.

From "Material Accounting" in Material Lives by Serena Dyer

[that-one-zombie-crow]

Everyone, I present the 14 TMA fears as Crane Wives songs because they are fear coded:

End: “I Ain’t Done”

Buried: “Back To The Ground”

Desolation: “The Garden”

Eye: “New Discovery”

Stranger: “Empty Page”

Lonely: “Here I Am”

Slaughter: “Take Me To War”

Hunt: “The Hand That Feeds”

Vast: “New Colors”

Spiral: “Hard Sell”

Flesh: “Ribs”

Corruption: “Pretty Little Things”

Web: “Metaphor”

Dark: “Turn Out The Lights”

Extinction: “Steady, Steady”

I would completely advise listening to all of these songs, if you haven’t already, just to see how they relate to each fear.

The Crane Wives are a REALLY good band and I would also advise listening to all of their songs.

[wonder-worker]

Noble girls received confusingly mixed messages about the clothing they should choose. The clearest Biblical guidance came from the author of 1 Timothy who had advised that ‘women should dress themselves modestly and decently in suitable clothing, not with their hair braided, or with gold, pearls or expensive clothes, but with good works’. This provided justification for generations of Christian authors who associated fine clothing with sinfulness. Jean de Meun, whose Roman de la Rose was to be found in many fifteenth-century noble houses, asserted that ‘a woman who wants to be beautiful . . . wants to wage war on Chastity’. Yet devotional books routinely indicated the high status of virgin martyrs and the Virgin Mary herself by depicting them in opulent and elegant garments, like the cloth of gold dress that St Cecilia wore over her hair shirt. The upper classes believed that ‘in a well-ordered society, consumption patterns would reflect the hierarchy of status’. In 1363 parliament had even introduced sumptuary laws outlining the types of clothing permissible to those of various stations. Gentlemen whose lands were worth less than £ 100 annually were forbidden to wear silk, embroidered clothing, gold jewellery ‘or any manner of fur’, and their wives and children likewise. Knights whose land was valued at less than 200 marks annually were forbidden to wear the most expensive wools and furs or cloth of gold, and even those receiving £ 1,000 a year could only wear ermine or cloth embroidered with jewels in their headwear. Although the legislation was repealed just over a year later, as Christopher Dyer has argued, it indicates the legislators’ ‘assumption that the higher aristocracy ought to wear’ opulent apparel that distinguished them from their inferiors.

One author who tried to steer a helpful middle course was Christine de Pisan, the daughter of an Italian physician and widow of one of the secretaries of Charles V of France...In her manual, Le Trésor de la Cité des Dames, Christine advised ‘the wise princess’ to ensure that ‘the clothing and the ornaments of her women, though they be appropriately beautiful and rich, be of a modest fashion, well-fitting and seemly, neat and properly cared for. There should be no deviation from this modesty nor any immodesty in the matter of plunging necklines or other excesses.'

-J.L. Laynesmith, "Cecily Duchess of York"

[bonebabbles]

Scenes like this keep cropping up and I cannot help but roll my eyes all the way back into my skull

Don't worry guys, having NEW children fixed him. This famously teaches a violent man to stop hitting kids and makes him no longer feel the need to construct nightmarish scenarios so he can humiliate and embarrass those he has power over. Men whose wives produce lots of babies for them are Very fulfilled and Understand how strong bonds are supposed to be

"Instead of advising him he'd been defensive" is a REALLY INTERESTING way to phrase "got so offended at the suggestion to stop murdering women for their land that he shoved his son's face in a festering wound and told him to leave him to get eaten by maggots."

I wonder how they'd spell something like, "walked through a patch of thorns so that his son would be in physical pain and then belittled him for finding an alternate route because he wanted him to suffer" and "lied directly to his face about why he abandoned him when he realized the child could be useful"