#they were never singing marry you for us

[smtown-tourist]

SHINee: Gets their group rings during Pride Month

SHINee World:

[tonycries]

Madam Zenin - T.F.

Synopsis. There’s nothing that rouses Toji, the infamous head of the Zenin clan, nothing that will make him lose control - until they take what’s most important to him. You.

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, arranged marriage, clan leader! Toji, kídnapping, the elders súck, Toji goes INSANE, BRÉEDING, talks of an heir, oraI (fem), fíngering, Toji’s powers, FÉRAL Toji, créampie, spítting, overstím, AU if Toji didn’t leave the clan, slight misogyny from Naoya, slight bIood, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 6.2k

A/N. Didn’t realize how much clan leader!Toji made me quake so…Hope y’all have a good day <3

“Who took her?”

“M-master?”

There wasn’t a single individual in the Zenin Estate that didn’t think Toji Zenin wouldn’t kill them in the blink of an eye. Happily, at that. 

It was rumored he was cursed, ruthless. And out of everyone - elders, servants, children - not one didn’t look over their shoulder behind every corner of the sprawling Zenin house, flinching at his mere shadow. Broad, towering, wrenching out nothing but hushed apologies and deep bows - they never dared to look into his devastating eyes. 

And right now, that pale-faced attendant of yours could only tremble - pray - she won’t be next on Toji’s long, long list of victims when the looming man himself bends to meet her lowered gaze. And oh-

Fuck. 

No one ever saw the vicious head of the Zenin clan smile - no one. 

Except you.

And here he had the most dangerous grin gracing his features, darkened olive eyes wide - crazed, when they halt on that slightest drop of red sinking into the tatami mats.

“My wife.” The other woman jumps when he loudly kicks your chamber door open. Abruptly barking out a deep, humorless laugh at the disheveled emptiness inside, “Who took my wife?”

---

Young master Zenin - Toji Zenin. Your husband.

It’s only been a few months since your stiff, lavish wedding ceremony to him - part of an arranged deal made between his clan and your own. Your parents practically leapt at the chance to marry into such an esteemed jujutsu name, forgetting all those dark rumors swirling around the young head at the first golden glint of the Zenin family’s massive treasury.  

Sure, they promised to treat you well, to prime you into becoming the new madam of their distinguished household. But you knew better - it wasn’t your upbringing or your cursed technique that brought you here, they couldn’t care less - no, it was because of an heir. 

The one thing that the Zenin family didn’t have. 

And the one thing Toji Zenin refused to give them.

That much was obvious when just minutes after exchanging vows and the ceremonial sake, a group of todgering elders had thrust a heady antidote for conception into your hands, smiling smugly as if they’d just given you the wedding gift of the century. Of course, your all-new husband didn’t even look at you properly on your wedding night - opting instead for a short, husky goodnight and to sleep in a separate bedroom down the hall from the newly-weds’ chamber. 

He wasn’t a cruel husband, you think, and he was attractive - painfully so - and felt more like a gruff acquaintance than anything. But the only problem was that he didn’t embrace you, not even a fleeting kiss.

Even when you really wanted Toji to.

“-T-Toji?” you’re breathing shallowly, eyes blinking up hazily at the dim lighting. It comes out small, cracking so pathetically at the end.

“---Toji--even----”

“No use--- had--months---”

“---keep her to myself--”

Instantly, you’re sitting upright in a cold, wooden chair. Heart thumping wildly against the ribs of your body, it bangs at the thickly digging rope wrapping around your body.

Shit shit shit - where were you? The last thing you remembered was chatting with your attendant in your room, and she’d handed you a brand-new perfume to smell- Fuck. Where was-

“Ah, you’re awake.” There’s a high, sing-song voice from somewhere on your right, and your blood runs chillingly cold when you recognize that voice. “Honestly, I hoped you wouldn’t be around for this part but-” Naoya Zenin claps his hands to get the attention of every other elder hunched around the traditional Japanese room. “-that just makes it all the more fun, right?”

With the one tiny lantern being lit overhead, you could make out those scraggly smiles, the sharp glint of the Zenin Clan’s famed katanas. A tear stumbles down your trembling cheek, tasting salty on your lips.

“Aww, not the tears.” Naoya guffaws, “You know m’not good with the tears.” Those ropes pinning your hands behind your back rub raw with your frantic movement, creaking and unstirring despite your best efforts. “Try and try all you want, sweetcheeks, but a failure of the Zenin clan will only be met with the appropriate consequences.”

A failure.

The words would’ve cut deep had they not been the very same ones spat at you at every clan meeting - the exact reason you didn’t accompany Toji to the one today. Toji, you think. Fuck, how you wished you’d have gone just this one time. 

Straightening your spine the best you could in this binding chair, you ask - firm, pretending for all the world to be as confident as you’re not. “What do you want from me?”

It’s as if your question is the biggest joke that every scowling man in this room had heard, and they all burst into wheezing, riotous laughter. Some even slapping their knees - even Naoya gives you a cold, leeringly gleeful grin, “Just as mouthy as he is, huh?” He turns back to the elders, “She’s asking what we want!”

You bristle at another bout of cackles, struggling to hiss out a strangled, “Well- well if you bastards just fucking told me-”

“An heir.” 

Fuck, you had a feeling it was this.

“What? You pussies get your rocks off by wondering about mine and Toji’s sex life?” you let out shrill laughter, mouth moving before your brain because fuck, if it was all going to end now, might as well spew out everything you’ve wanted to since you walked in here. You shake your woozy head, “Oh fuckin’ grow up, if the man himself wanted an heir then you’d know-”

Eyes enraged, he takes a heated step towards you, “You little-”

“Naoya.” The strained drawl of an elder you’d seen around the corridors stops him straight in his tracks, and Naoya gives the man a hasty, reluctant bow. “Finish it. Before he gets back.”

Those last few words splatter a few drops of panic into your words, and a few more exhausted tears stream down your face. 

“Heh, whatever.” he’s taking one last greedy lookover down your rattling figure. “Would’ve taken y’for myself if I didn’t think he’d kill me, sweetcheeks. What a shame.” Trailing off airily, he turns back towards where you spot another spiking glisten in the dark, a metallic twang! rings through the thick, musty atmosphere. “Who knows, maybe his next wife will actually listen to a thing or two.”

Next wife. 

You’re not sure why but the thought made your heart clench. And you’re gasping when he turns back around - silver katana in hand - trying to scream, yell, anything for help. But no sound comes out. 

Instead, all you can do is gape when Naoya crowds in menacingly closer, you can just hear the smile in his voice when he coos mockingly, “You’re much better when you shut up, doll.” You press your lips tightly together at the same, sullied use of Toji’s nickname for you - wondering how he would react to all of this. Wincing at the cutting whoosh! of the katana being raised up, up, up- “Any last wo-”

BANG!

You’re grimacing at the loud crashing of wood and panels, sliding doors ripped to shreds. And in the hazy cloud of dust you could make out the outline of a tall, heaving figure. Big arms swaying with his choppy breaths, he’s standing still - dangerous.

And even in the soft darkness, your unblinking gaze caught on his gleaming, feral smile, sharp canines bared like some beast. Eyes carnivorous, widened as he assesses the room like a predator lurking in on its prey.

The drop of fear hits you before the realization - Toji.

Letting out a strangled yelp, “T-Toj- mmpf!” Before cold, wrinkly fingers come up from behind to cover your mouth. But even the slightest sound of your voice has Toji’s form jolting - fingers twitching on the handle of his blade, like electricity zapped through his entire body, and you can hear the elder behind you take in an obvious gasp when his eyes lock onto the two of you. 

Finally. 

Toji’s lips part silently, and abruptly, you’re being let go of as if you burned. “You.” 

It happens so fast that you’re not even sure you imagined it, in a split-second, the long, jagged dagger in Toji’s hand is being flung right at his shivering target. . 

And you knew he won’t miss - he never will, because you’re not even blinking when a drawn-out groan of pain echoes from behind you. Followed by an echoing thud!

“My wife.” Toji’s rasping baritone sends goosebumps racing down your spine, you’re puffing in a quick inhale at just how close he sounds. Sure enough, when you look up, you’re met with softened sage eyes, and crooked beginnings of a smile. “My wife.” he breathes out, as if he still couldn’t really believe it. But any and all tenderness in his body bleeds away when Toji abruptly looks over his shoulder at the men crowding around the entrance with a thunderous glare, “Next.”

Naoya is the first to dare to speak - to even move. Yelling, “Y-y- do you even know who that- the crime it is to kill one of the elders-”

Fuck, you swear Toji looked elated at that, that savage grin still plastered on his face, he grits through clenched teeth, “Next.” 

Next. Next. Next. Next. 

It’s all that kept being laughed - laughed - out when Naoya activated his own cursed technique, absolutely nothing against Toji’s rampant ravaging. The thrum of jujutsu makes your head throb, and Toji’s steps sound deafening. Pressurized lunges towards the man himself, and before he can think - before he can even breathe - Naoya’s being pinned face-down on the tatami floor. Face stinging with the force of the stronger man’s foot on his head, pressing it underneath his wooden sandals. He speaks softly - as if talking down to a child - over the strained pop! pop! pop! of joints. “For taking my wife, for insulting the very soul of my soul.”

Toji wasn’t done, he wasn’t even stopping. He was out of control. Ready to kill. To break. 

And none of the elders could do anything - in fact, they fall fatally still onto their knees at Toji’s growing smile, the slow turn of his head. All knowing they were on the very brink of death himself. “Who’s next?”

Fatigue and relief hits you like a semi-truck - five of them, in fact. And you can feel your body drooping lower, vision tinging with black at the corners. Over the grotesque crunching of limbs, you think you could hear a faint, gruff laughter of, “Yeah, ya might wanna sleep this one out, doll.”

---

Toji never wanted to let you out of his sight. Never. 

And with you so vulnerable like this - dozing off gently on his silken bedsheets, body curling subconsciously into his benevolent hold - he thinks he never will.

Mellow, rounded tips of his thick fingers glide down your skin, sensitive from the hot water and the way he’d washed away every evidence of the blood and pain from just a few hours before. 

“I’m sorry.” Toji breathes, hushed, a thumb gliding away a stray droplet of water on the apple of your cheek. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” He connects his forehead with your damp one, eyes fluttering shut. “I’m sorry. If I hadn’t come to see you early from the meeting- just knew something felt wrong.”

“Sorry for what, Toji?”

Your teasing tone of voice shocks him to his very core, and yet he can’t find it in himself to pull away - fuck, he can’t even dare open his eyes to look. “All of it.” he’s spitting out, tormentingly.

It takes you a while to find the words, “It’s- it’s not your fault.” you nod, a wet hand coming up to comb through Toji’s soft black tresses. “It’s neither of ours.”

There’s a few seconds of silence, in which he’s scrubbing non-existent beads of water off of you. Long strokes - slow, and purposeful - and you have to hold back your sudden yelp when it hits you that this was the first time that he saw you naked.

“But-” he falters, shaking his head - before thinking better of it. And you take the moment to appreciate just how gorgeous he is up close, every spike of pink in his worried lips, dark lashes kissing his high cheekbones. “But it’s over now, you can- you can go back to your clan.” he grimaces, still looking like he wanted to rip something - someone - apart. “The Zenin family is done.”

Done. 

“Toji.” you exhale, luring in your face so close to your husband’s. Too close. “Come with me. Fuck this Estate, fuck having an heir- and fuck the elders, if they’re not dead by now anyway.” They were - every single one - bodies piled high in the same room you were carried tenderly out of, you find out later. You steady onto your elbows on that unfamiliar mattress - Toji’s, you distinctly realize. And his brows crinkle upwards into an expression you’ve never seen on him before.

“I…”

“And-” A hand of yours wraps around his throat, nails digging into the racing pulse of his at the side of his milky neck. “-kiss me.”

Then he’s raising his eyes to look at you and fuck-

You were fucked. 

You might as well have just signed away your own will because here was the man that was covered in blood not too long ago, here he was with his lids hooded, pupils blown. “My wife.” he repeats that same mantra from before, lips parting like something so dark, visceral, was poked dangerously awake. Like he couldn’t quite believe it. His eyes flicker in a lingering triangle across both of your eyes, your lips. Just a hair’s breadth away. Straining out a raspy, “Oh fuck.”

Depraved - Toji’s lips are so depraved . And he’s drinking you in like all his bloodthirst from before had liquidated into pure need. 

You’re mewling when a large palm brushes over to cup your cheek, tilting that pretty head of yours to deepen the kiss. “Toji.”

You shouldn’t have done that - oh, you shouldn’t have done that. Because the sound of his own name in your syrupy sweet tone makes him jolt. Jolt. His entire body rumbles with a deep, wrenched-out growl, followed very closely by a loud slam! of Toji’s fist banging down on the nearby bedside table. Only later will you find that perfectly indented hole in the shape of his hand, splinters scattered across the floor. 

Like wanted to keep in control - needed to keep in control. But was failing - miserably. 

“F-fuuuuck-” he draws out huskily into your mouth, that tiny scar always at the corner of his mouth catching on your lower lip when he takes it between his. Sucking on that slick-glossed seam harshly, it almost hurt - but it hurt so good. “You have no idea- absolutely no fuckin’ idea how much I’ve wanted to do this.”

And suddenly you’re so painfully aware of the way your robe hadn’t been tied up properly, feeling the cinch of your sensitive nipples against his rich yukata, the warmth of all five of his long fingers splaying out just below the curve of your tits. 

You can feel his needy hips rutting into yours - such raw strength in the way he holds your own still so easily. Pushing right into the bullseye between your legs with the outline of his massive, heated bulge. Languid, delicious drags.

“Fuck we shouldn’t-” he cries out when you’re reeling him back in with his plump lip tucked beneath your teeth. “You need to-” Before he’s being tugged back in again. And again. And again and again like one taste of your candied lips and he was addicted. Barely able to choke out a single syllable before mashing them back onto yours. Gruffing out a deep rumble from the depths of his sculpted chest, “Shit- y’know why I didn’t do this sooner? Why I didn’t just fuck you right then and there in front of hngh- everyone whenever I wanted to? Because I knew-”

He cuts himself off with a convulsing shudder, pulling away just enough that you whine disappointedly. “I was gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

“Couldn’t- hngh-” you’re mewling at the delicate little strings of syrupy spit snapping. Spying down at the way his yukata was disheveled now, displaying such delicious panes of warm skin for you. “Couldn’t have guessed.”

Toji’s brows raise at your slightly bratty tone, lips curling into such a sinful smirk that it makes your cunt throb so hotly, despite the slowly cooling water. His eyes darken - as if something snapped. “Oh- you’re gonna fucking regret that, ma.”

And something did -  maybe his whatever restraint he had left, probably you by the end of this.

In an instant, you’re seeing a flash of that man- that monster from before. Baring you the most vicious grin inhumanly possible, if you didn’t know any better you’d have wondered how high the death count would be. The hundreds? The thousands?

He’s worshiping down your body like an apology for all that transpired before, hot, wet brandings of his mouth across each and every inch of skin he could reach. It made you whimper, it made you feel the powerful hum of his strength at his fingertips, it made you need more more more-

All you can let out is a drawling moan when he unapologetically snaps! the hem of your panties onto your heated skin, “Don’t be such a t-tease.”

Oh, you were so weak against the dark head of the Zenin clan, against the way he circles his two hands around your ankles. Easily pulling - hauling you across the plush mattress like some ragdoll. 

Not even hesitating before ripping your poor yukata off your body, until you’re left spread so shamefully underneath him, Toji knocking down hard onto his knees before you. 

“Well- whatever my wife wants…” the same dangerous grin grows along his face, glinting white teeth bared where they held your flimsy excuse of panties between honed canines. He murmurs the final few words hovering over where you needed him the most,  “...no elder or god themself could stop me from giving you.” 

RIP—! 

It’s the last thing breathed out of his heaving lungs before your poor underwear is being torn off of you by his very mouth, not wasting a moment before spitting them out, and burying his face between your trembly thighs. Not even taking in one last gulp of air, not even thinking because all Toji Zenin knew was that he was going to fucking die if he didn’t taste your sweet sweet cunt right now. 

“Oh f-fuck-” he’s musing, sharp tongue stuttering for once in his life. “Fuck fuck fuck- fuck-” You’re yelping when your jelly-like legs are pliantly thrown over Toji’s broad shoulders, digging into the muscles of his deltoids. “Can’t believe you’ve been-” He trails off so deliriously, planting a hot, thick glob of spit on your spread pussy lips once. Twice. Smearing that glistening coat along your puffy folds with the fat of his thumb, “-been holdin’ out on me like this.”

“Shit- s’too much.” you’re whining at the slippery gloss of the mess he’s made down below leaking down your slit. Threading your fingers through his silky locks, “I wasn’t holding out on anything, y’know-”

His wide-eyed gaze was locked on your sloppily winking hole, circling the rim of that needy ring of muscle with his pointed index. “God…” his hot breath fans your dripping cunt, “You might just be my god. Didn’t wanna bring a kid into this family but you’re so- so sweet m’thinking it might not be too bad.”

Those words are barely even registered in your mind before his pretty pink lips wrap themselves around your throbbing clit. Handsome cheekbones hollowing, droopy eyes rolling to the back of his head when Toji sucks. Whirling his tongue erratically around the sensitive nub, such lewd little squelches ring in your ears. 

“T-Toji—” your purring moans only make him bury his face even deeper, nose pressing up against the edge of your sopping slit. And each thorough drag of your slobbering cunt down his face makes you knock against the end of his chin, so thirsty with the way he was making out with your cunt. Like he couldn’t get enough - never will. “Y-you were the one-” the heels of your feet move up higher to loop at his neck. “-holding out.”

And you knew that Toji the strongest of his clan - you knew it took more than a mere, barely-lucid tug to have him clashing even deeper into your pussy. 

But he does for you anyway. 

“Fuck- fuck you little-” Toji’s own heavy tongue betrays him with a throaty moan, and he looks so furious. Seething at the way he was pussydrunk already. Greedy gaze so crazed that you’re back to wondering how high the kill count would be- would they all even fit on the Zenin Estate? “-f tha’s what you fuckin’ want.”

“Wha- oh!” you yelp at the sheer burning stretch of your legs being pushed up, up, up until your knees were knocking against your tits. And Toji takes the shamefully spread opportunity to bully one rummaging finger past your swollen folds. “Oh fuck- you’re reaching so- so-”

“Finish it.”

It takes you a second to realize that Toji’s addressing you, his tone so jagged. Words muffled when he pants them out into your weeping cunt. 

He’s pulling out his finger - intentionally curving exactly against all those sweet spots mushed into your velvety walls - only to brand your poor clit with a sharp smack! “Finish that fucking sentence, ma.”

“-deep!” your hips are bucking up at another hefty intrusion, Toji’s fingers relentless inside your elastic wall. Molding out your insides to memorize every bump of his knuckles, every neat curve of his short fingernails. “So so- deep, Toji.” you whine, your shaky hands coming to rest at where you could feel him pumping in and out feverishly into hidden nooks and crannies of your sopping cunt. “C-can feel you right- here!”

This earns you another smack! gifted once again on your awaiting clit, but any and all irritation is swept away when he’s clashing his lips with yours down below in such a messy kiss. Meshing around the bulge of his own large fingers, tongue rolling placatingly over your glisteningly ravaged clit. Flicking, “Yeah- definitely my kind of fucking goddess.” His own free hand dances up to rest about midway up your stomach, pressing down. “M’gonna be in even deeper soon, y’know. Trust me.”

It’s at this moment that Toji’s exploratory fingers find their greedy way to your bulbous g-spot, immediately crashing into it - hard. 

There. There there there, you want to say - but you don’t have to, because he could tell. Could feel the vice-like grip of your slicked walls, the way it’s almost difficult to hammer back into your cunt. 

“Yeah yeah I got it-” he’s humming cockily, back to dragging his lips all over your clit senselessly all over. “All you hafta to do is- hah-” He’s being cut off by his own ravenous thirst, slurping mouth grinding even faster into your pretty pussy. And all you can hear are those syrupy squelches and the smacking of Toji’s mouth, your whining ah! ah! ah! following with every push of his fingers forming around your gummy walls. Curling deftly to massage all your sweetest spots he’s already mapped out so scarily well. “-ahh fuck- can’t get enough. Would kill them all over again just for a single taste of this. Would kill everyone- burn down this entire fuckin’ city.”

You didn’t doubt it, and Toji didn’t let you - not for a single second. 

Because he was almost violent in his approach, bruisingly pushing apart your legs further and further with each sloppy, stumbling second. Looking up at you with his wild gaze, with such a feral grin you could feel along every crevice of your overwhelmed cunt. 

“Can tell ya liked that-” he’s huffing out a surprised bout of laughter, “Ohhh- ya like that very much, huh?”

His tongue was alternating between ravaging your clit and brushing against the teasing edge of your entrance now. Over and over. And you’re gifted with another imprinting smack! onto your quivering cunt - and another and another and another until you’re all but sobbing out such a broken, “Toji- m’so close, fuck- m’gonna cum, m’gonna cum–”

“Then cum f’me, my wife.”

It only takes a few more messy rams of Toji’s fingers knuckle-deep into your eagerly swallowing pussy until you’re crashing so aggressively into your high. Wave after wave of white-hot pleasure running down, down, down your spine and into where he was relentlessly stuffing your convulsing pussy. 

Fucking you over and over through your orgasm, the pretty sight of you so splayed out and ruined makes Toji’s mouth water. He feels like a damn dog with the way his tongue lolls out, grin widening, he murmurs absent-mindedly, “Yeah- wouldn’t be bad at all. Swear you’re gonna be the end of my sanity.”

Fuck, you shamelessly ogle the way his dark robe falls down his broad shoulders, revealing so many dips and curves of muscle after muscle. He was so large - so meticulously sculpted that your restless legs fasten around Toji’s slenderly toned waist, drawing him close until your bare chests were rubbing up against one another. “Heh- you don’t get to hold out on me anymore, doll.”

It sounded almost like a threat - but your bleary, orgasm-drunk mind only has the chance to wonder what exactly he would do if you did. If you didn’t give him - the one head of the Zenin clan that didn’t get everything he wanted handed to him on a silver platter since birth - the one thing he would kill for. Die for. 

You. 

So you’re smiling drunkenly, head tilted to one side, “What are you gonna do about it?”

Toji doesn’t answer - doesn’t even bother to. And the only response you’re getting is a strained laugh - delirious almost, like the mere thought of that was enough to shred away whatever was left of his sanity.

And yours - clearly - because in that very moment, Toji lets his throbbing cock finally spring out, smacking against his abs to leave a glisteningly wet smear of precum. So so angry, his fat weeping tip lets out another wave of syrupy precum at the chill of the heady air. 

Shit - he was big. 

Long, long shaft blending so prettily from a feverish red at his tip to the tan skin behind those tufts of black at his happy trail. Veins pulsing, girthy enough that you’re wondering back to his kill count, thighs twitching nervously to a close. 

“No- no no-” you could tell his tone was trying to veer into scolding, but you caught the way it cracks with so much raw need. “Don’t you fuckin’-” His hands just wrench your knees back open, green eyes just aflame at this point. “-dare.” 

His pointed smile was so dripping wet with your sweet sweet juices from before, trickling in a sloppy trail all the way from the glossy corners of his lips, down to his chin. And his eyes follow the splattering, thick puddle on your collarbone. 

“Oh-” Toji’s mouth falls into a wicked gasp, immediately, he’s surging forward to pool the syrupy mess on his hot tongue. “Heh- guess we really are just now consummating our marriage, huh?”

The movement causes his painfully rock-hard cock to just kiss at your puffy pussy lips, just mashing the fat round tip of his length between your slit. Teasing. So fucking filthy. 

“Toji-” you’re wrenching him by his dark hair to pant into his open mouth, like a mantra. “More- need more- fuck I need-”

“More?”  His shuddering rap is barely even audible, ringing straight to your very heated core, because he sounded so wrecked. So fucking utterly ruined. Voice a few octaves higher in disbelief, “My pretty girl wants my cock? Fuckin’ want-” And then it’s like all the air is being knocked out of your lungs - literally. Feeling as if you’re being split apart so sinfully so, “more?”

You couldn’t have answered if you’d wanted to - because Toji Zenin was fucking ruthless. Just as mean as those greedily lingering juts of his hips, pushing and pushing his massively rotund length past your first snug channel of muscle. 

But that didn’t matter, because your slutty cunt was speaking more than enough for the both of you - or at least that’s what Toji mutters, over and over when he pushes in jutting, unrhythmic jabs to squeeze himself deeper inside you. 

“Oh- oh my god–” you’re batting your heavy eyelids open to take in the way your overstuffed pussy just bulges around him. Lips spread so widely it was like they were conforming to each ridge and vein down Toji’s fat cock, beading a glossy sheen down every inch by fucking inch you were being fed. “So much- fuck, don’t know if I can take it.”

Toji Zenin would rather die than not have his pretty wife all overfilled with cock if that’s what it takes him. 

And by the way your teary eyes grow wider, he suspects his pussydrunk mind might’ve just babbled that out loud. “Heh…didn’t I tell ya, ma?” His low whisper puffs hotly against your ear, tugging tensely on your earlobe. “M’gonna fucking ruin ya.”

And it’s times like this that it’s so clearly impossible to forget that Toji is inhumanly human - that you are so unfairly nothing in a match up against him.

CRACK!

Because with one, harsh ram of his sharp hip bones smacking against the globes of your ass - every solid inch of his intimidating cock is slammed against your tightly cushioning walls. It’s such a ravaging intrusion and you swear you could feel him everywhere. Feel him thrumming hotly against sweet spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed. Finally, buried all the way to his thick hilt, yet still nuzzling his hips upwards for more-

“S’broken.” Toji muses, and for a second you didn’t know if he was talking about you or the suspiciously sagging bed. “Plan B.” 

It takes only two seconds for his beefy arms to pick you up as if you were weightless - god, he was treating you like some object. And the only time he’s not enveloped by your heavenly cunt is when you’re being shoved down like some slut onto the cool mahogany of Toji’s work desk, his firm front pressing up against your arched back.  

“Plan C is to just fuck you into the floor until it breaks.” he snorts throatily into your ear. 

And you wondered whether it was a joke - you hoped it was a joke. You almost half-believed it until he was back to bulldozing his plump tip back into your briefly-neglected cunt. Stretching the clingy rim of muscle to bend to his round length, fully. Oh, he’ll never get used to this sight. 

Yeah, you definitely weren’t making it out alive. 

“F-fuck you really are-” One hand of yours scrambles to blindly white-knuckle the smooth wood beneath you when Toji’s bludgeoning your pussy with powerful, long thrusts. Feeling every minute flex of his thick thighs behind your own, shuddering with each forceful hammer of his sweeping cock inside you. “-you really are in so deep.”

As if to confirm, the man himself glides down an open palm to your stomach. Pressing down hard with all five splayed-out fingers until Toji could feel the same incessant slam of his thumping cockhead, the cascading ripple of his heavy, cum-filled balls smacking against your ass. 

“Told ya- hah told ya so.” his cocky groans are whirling all throughout your mind, such a hot, melty mess with the sheer fucking stretch of Toji’s cock. “Y’know…I can’t help but imagine just how pretty you’d hngh- look all stretched out n’ swollen as a momma.”

You’re nodding deliriously, and the way his crashing thrusts were just bruising against your spongy cervix, bouncing off onto every sweetly hidden sensitive spot inside your elastic walls. “Shit- ya jus’ got wetter- ya like that? The thought of me fuckin a baby into ya?” he spits, long sloppy tongue coming up to taste the dredges of tears streaming down your face- shit, when did you even start crying? 

“Shh shhh- don’t cry–” he’s cooing, rewarding you with another heavy smack! right onto your poor clit. Every steady clash against your over-sensitive g-spot only sends a fresh wave of big fat tears for Toji to kiss at. “-don’t cry, don’t cry. Never f’me, m’never hah- gonna kill off anything that makes my pretty wife cry-” A soft, salty peck on your lips, “-n’ that includes me. If ya asked me to, ma. I’ll give ya anything you ever want.”

There’s a creaking slam! on the wooden surface, and a hasty look over your shoulder shows that Toji has hiked his knee up onto the desk. For a second, you wonder whether it hurt - whether the throbbing shaft of his cock wasn’t rubbed raw by now, whether his abs weren’t just burning with movement. Fucking you so recklessly into the desk.

But oh, you think Toji Zenin would care?

You think he would give a fuck about anything other than rutting riotously into your gripping cunt? Drilling into you again and again until your tip-toes don’t even reach the ground at the force of his pressurized thrusts. The change in angle has his leaky tip glide glossy lines right across the bottom of your dripping pussy and pressing down harshly onto your g-spot. So rough. So mean. You’re scrambling further and further up the desk and-

“Now now-” Toji hoists your weak hips up ever-so-slightly back to him, before pinning you to the desk with his full, heavy bodyweight. “No running away. Heh…how funny would it be if I actually did jus’ hngh- fuck a baby into ya right now?” His fingers get so sloppy on your clit, “Fill ya up- rub an heir right in everyone’s faces?”

“Shit- m’so close- again-” Your ears are popping at the pure saturated stimulation when his hand down below rolls over your clit. Desperate. Depraved. Glossing up the curve of his thick thumb with all the sweet slick beading out with each broken thrust. It’s like he was out of control - losing his fucking mind. And your delirious mind wondered whether you’d be next, that faint cracking of joints certainly not boding well for either of you. “Toji, m’gonna-”

He’s so erratic - sloppy. And so it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same - fuck, you didn’t even realize it at first.

So hard that your vision flashes red and white, breathing raggedly gasping in lungfuls as you rock your sticky hips back into Toji’s so greedily. Your voice is shot - because you’re moaning Toji’s name so loud that it almost felt disrespectful, echoing across the sex-thickened air. “Tha’s right- scream as loud as you want, ma. It’s just us in this house.”

And maybe it was that - maybe it was the feeling of your velvety walls clamping down hard around his achy length - maybe it was just the way you’re whispering out such saccharine sweet, “Cum inside.”

Because Toji’s fractured sanity can only handle a few more unkindly bullying drives into your gushing cunt before he’s cumming and cumming so much he thinks he might die. 

Doesn’t know if he can - if he wants to - stop.

“Oh- ohhh fuck- didn’t think I’d actually-” You feel a branding bite inside the crook of your neck as his sloppy white seed splatters at your inner thigh with each rummaging thrust forward. Oozing down in messy, thick dredges. “-hngh- gonna fill you up so good- until you can’t take it anymore.” You didn’t know if you already could - because you felt so full. Toji’s syrupy cum sloshing around with each ram of his hips, coating your walls in a creamy, slick-like sheen on the inside. 

“Yes–” you sigh over another splintering crack! from somewhere, “Fuck fuck fuck- need you to- hngh, wanna make you a daddy- give you an heir, To-”

It’s as if he couldn’t bear to hear your swollen lips part with his name, because Toji’s shutting you up with a sweltering kiss. Still mounted and rutting into you so animalistically, “the best- the best momma, you’re gonna be the best momma-” he hushes into your mouth. Pliantly kneading your body into a sinful arch for him, you barely even register it when he’s carrying you away. Two thick fingers pooling his glistening cum, inching them back into your stretched-out cunt - “Don’t waste a single drop now- hngh- fuck, you’ll look so pretty all full.”

Before you know it, you’re being sprawled out so easily on the clean tatami mats below, face down, your hips being propped up by one of Toji’s. And in your bleary peripheral vision, you could just about make out how ruined that desk was - how broken. How the fuck haven’t either of you broken any bones, yet?

Or maybe you have - you wouldn’t even know at this point, because Toji was still slamming into your poor, overspilling pussy again. His harsh grunt puffs out in a feverish breath against your ear, “Told ya I was gonna ruin you, doll. Better get ready-” He’s punctuating each word with a sloppy, sold thrust, pace picking up to fuck you so thoroughly into the floor. “Because I have a Plan D and a Plan E until m’sure you’re givin’ me an heir.”

A/N. Ooo what if I made a clan leader series? Thoughts?

Plagiarism not authorized.

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

One hell of a team | In-ho x Wife!Reader |

Summary: You will follow your husband anywhere.

Warnings: S2 Spoilers - Violence - Different back story for In-ho - Blood - Death - Use of (Y/N) - Reader gets called "love" -

The Frontman, the man with the most power within the island, to who the guards obey without question.

Was currently trembling under his wife pointed look.

"You want to enter the games?" You asked him, your tone cold and almost jugdmental.

In-ho calmed himself down. It was an idea that stayed with him after the death of the Chairman and even more with how player 456 had insisted the last two years in finding them. He had played before and won, he knew how terrible others could be, he had walked out like a new man, used the money for himself and you. Never really gave much thought on how many lives were lost.

But, for some reason he wanted to go again.

"Im going with you"

His glass of wishky fell onto the floor, the loud crash did nothing to bother you while you ate.

"No, thats not happening. I need you here to control the games and guards" In-ho started trying to get a valid reason to why you defenetly should not come.

"Oh, you need me to? Well I need you here. With me. With our family. How do you think I would do seeing you there ? I still remember how you got when you came back from these the first time"

"That was different" The Frontman said taking a deep breath "I wont be just one more player, it will be like when the Chairman went in"

"That still does not ease my mind" (Y/N) responded "Till death do us a part and follow you anywhere" you recited showing him your weeding ring. "Remember?"

In-ho felt his chest got thight at the sight and the memory of the small yet full of love weeding you two had back when life was more simple.

"Alright, you can come with me. Its not like you would wait for my approval" he responded smiling at the end "But no one must know that we are married, you understand that ?" He added now serious

"Of course, its what makes more sense, we will just casually meet there and see how it plays" You nodded to him "And please, better clean up that glass before someone steps on it"

"On it, love"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

For the most part pretending not to know each other was easier than expected. While you knew the guards knew who you two were you were still a bit scared. Specially during the green and red light, since both of you had got separated and now you were froze in your spot.

"You need to move" In-ho said from behind his arm playing along "Follow me in the next sing, alright? Just take my hand"

"Im scared, im sorry" You said feeling guilty over wanting to be there with him and starting to fail on the first game no less.

"I know, I was too. But im here, just follow me"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

You had to hide your smirk when he pressed the circle to go on with the games, you knew he would do it just to piss off Player 456 and make things more cahotic.

He went with the rest and stood besides you trying himself not to smile at you.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The first approach to Gi-huns team was tense to say the least. You two had voted circle and even worse In-ho had been the vote that ended the tie.

But with his own charisma and yours you two got to be on his good side.

Till In-ho decided to talk, really you sometimes forgot who sassy he could be.

"And some picked umbrella?" He asked faking suprise when he had seen it on first hand. "Most of them died I assume"

You could see the look on player 456 and decided to be more sensitive

"Hey, dont be like that. Im sure they went in blind and did not know what it was about" You said keeping a safe distance so no one would think you two were together or knew each other before the games.

In-ho was having too much fun.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

That first night they both were in their respective beds. Still keeping their false relationship. However once (Y/N) was sure all were asleep she went towards In-ho who was awake like he knew she would be coming to him.

"Are you alright?" He asked in a whisper, worried that for her this would be too much.

"Im fine, I wanted to see if you were fine"

He nodded not saying a thing but taking her hand.

"Also, I saw you break that fight, really ? When did you even learn to do that ?" This made him smile and hold her hand thighter "Really! I only see you in your office all the time"

"You think I would come in here without knowing how to defend myself or you?"

She smiled at him, blushing in the dark. "No....I just thought all you did was be in your office and give orders"

In-ho rolled his eyes "Just wait till we are out of here, i will show you just how fit im"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The six legs game was both a chaos and funny. Honeslty you could not help yourself on hugging him and player 456 (who was slowly getting on your soft side) as you saw a team win.

However the shoots that came for these who did not survive were too much. You would swear In-ho gave the guards a cold stare because you would flinch sometimes.

"Hey, dont worry they wont shoot the ones who havent played" Player 456 reassured you with a calm tone

You nodded, knowing that even if you lost they wont shoot you or In-ho. It was still sweet to see him trying to calm you down.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"Not a word" He said during the night when you two were able to talk again.

"I was not going to say a thing, but you did in on purpose or were you really missing ?"

In-ho closed his eyes knowing you would later get the recording of him missing during the game and use it against him.

"It was all planned" he said trying to sound as convincing as he could.

"Whatever you say Honey"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The game of making pairs gave you nausea because of the carousel kept spinning around. And the rounds were stress again. The worse part was getting separated from In-ho who find you seeing how two players were dragging you so they could have the number they needed.

You havent see him get that angry in years, his protective self being on as he pulled one from the neck and punched the other one.

He kept punching almost forgetting there was a game you two were supposed to play.

"Leave him we still need two more" You urged only for a guard to shove two confused and scared players besides you and In-ho.

"We got them" He assured getting your hand and going to one room.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"In-ho!! (Y/N)!!" The worried screams of Gi-hun filled the place as he looked for both of you.

Even if he had promised to try and dont get attached to new players and survive he could not help but feel a connection with both of you.

"Gi-hun!" In-ho's voice called making him look over and see him coming towards the rest with you by hand something that made him curious but decided not to ask.

"Im glad to see you two alright" Gi-hun said seeing just a few bruises on you, and noticing blood on In-ho knuckles.

You catched his eyes and went to explain "He saved me" you told the rest looking at them then at In-ho who was looking back at you "I would have not made it otherwise"

The look of love you two shared was so genuine, some wonder if you two were together but trying to be discrete to protect yourselfs.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"They will most likely attack us tonight" Gi-hun explained as he showed the fork the guards had left when the food was given.

The idea only assented itself when the men returned from the bathroom, with blood on them. 

"And what do you propouse us to do?" In-ho asked all of the Xs were in a circle trying to listen to what Gi-hun had to say.

Gi-hun told the others his plan, honestly you thoguht it was nusts, it wont work. They were far suprassed on numbers but you had to shut yourself up.

You could tell your husband was both amazed by it and even kind of respecting it. Or at least that what he showed to him. He needed Gi-hun's trust after all.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"Hide well" In-ho said besides you in a low tone "We can trust the guards but till they get here we cant trust the others"

You nodded knowing that very well since this was a typical phase of the game for years.

"We will be safe" You said holding his shoulder. "Do what you have to do, dont worry about me" You tried to make him feel at ease but he could not. The only thing that scared him more than anything were the other players trying to get to you.

"Just hang in there" He responded his forehead against yours.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The fight was on its hot spot. The players were killing each other without a second thought.

Nothing like living it, even if you have seen this type of thing multiple times. Its was unnerving to see them just going at each others troath. The screams and cries were too much for a moment, the dark did nothing to help.

Thats when you felt it. Someone had dragged you out from under the bed and was now on top of you. You saw the player move their left hand ready to Strike at you. You tried to punch and defend yourself but the person on top was too strong.

A cold scream left your mouth as the fork pierced your shoulder.

You could not help it, the adrenaline and anxiety was getting on you.

"In-ho! In-ho help me please" You screamed for him, your husband the love of your life.

"Shut up, the next one will be your neck" The person said and for a moment you saw it. Dying in here and leaving In-ho.

Till you felt the person being pushed and the screams of them. You blinked trying to make sense.

It was In-ho, he had taken the fork from the player and was now piercing the neck of the player, not even leaving a chance for them to survive.

"GO HIDE NOW!!" In-ho ordered, he being scared himself and angry. He saw red when you were dragged and it was for the brutal grip Gi-hun had on his arm that he did not move faster.

You did as told getting under another bed and making sure no one could reach you.

"You fucking scum! How dare you lay hands on my wife" In-ho almost screamed too angry to see that the player was now dead. All his face and hands where covered in blood.

"Stop it!! They are dead, we need to continue the plan, the lights will be back soon" Gi-hun said taking him and pulling him away from the dead player.

"Get (Y/N), and be ready" Gi-hun told him trying to keep himself calm even when he was close to jump over and save you and In-ho. He wondered if he had hear it right, you were his wife?

In-ho did not waste time, searching for you in the dark till he noticed you. He went quick, pulling yourself out from the bed telling you its was him.

"Shh shh its me, its over dont cry Love" He said trying to make you feel better.

"In-ho?" He nodded and you cried harder "In-ho I was so scared"

"I know love I know, just a bit more alright? It will be over soon. Listen once the guards come in and we follow Gi-huns plan do not come. Someone will come and get you"

"Im going with you, im not leaving you in a bullet fight!"

"You know nothings gonna happen to me, I want you here, safe, alright?"

Finally you accepted.

"I love you In-ho"

"I love you too Love"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

As In-ho had said when the guards got back after the fight one took you, Player 120 tried to protest but was put back in her place by other guard.

"You are under suspect of have been part of the riot. You are now eliminated from the games"

The guard said playing his role, starting to get you out of the room while you screamed following the act.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

"Apologies Madam, orders from the Front Man" The guard said bowing once you two were outside and out of reach from the others players.

Even if you were still breathing hard you nodded. "Dont worry, just take me to him". The guard nodded.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

He knew he was needed in the control room but refused to let you alone like that. He went to your share room, his heart broke at your image, bruises and blood over you. A guard was checking your shoulder but left after he order them to.

Silence fell over both of you as he went to you and hugged you careful not to hurt your shoulder.

He removed his mask to look at you properly.

"Im sorry, I should have never let you come, I should have stopped this sooner" He said with pain in his voice

"Dont blame yourself, I told you I was going in with you. This was not your fault In-ho" You reassured him feeling sad and worried over him.

"I cant not blame myself" He gently passed his hand over your cheeck "You are the best thing in my life and I almost lost you because of my own desires, never again"

You two kissed softly grounding yourselfs. You two were safe and together nothing else matters from now. Only the love and devotion you two had for each other.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

[chuluoyi]

𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 !

- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader

the path of love is never easy for you, be it now or back then. love, pain, betrayal and tragedy — you have been through them all. after all is said and done, you just want one chance at happiness. so will your second marriage be what you always want it to be, or will it be one last heartbreak you have to go through?

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, angst, hurt/comfort, a lot of fluff, marriage of convenience, explicit smut (semi-public sex), pregnancy, childbirth, mentions of curses

note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress. this is the final part of remarried empress au trilogy! wc. 9.4k ! i'm so happy with how well-received this little series is :') thank you so, so much for reading!

credit header goes to @/poro06625649 in twitter!

prev. all hail the empress | the crown of diamonds

general masterlist | series masterlist

“Satoru...”

Once, to you, love meant complete acceptance. To be able to accept someone so wholly, unquestionably, as they are.

Until you excelled in everything, a stone throw away from perfection even, and Naoya still spurned you.

When you married Satoru out of sheer impulse just to preserve your standing, you thought you had found that kind of love at last. Until it became clear a part of him wanted something else, and you couldn't accept that.

At the same time, you also felt like a hypocrite, because you wanted that love for you, and yet you couldn't give the same to him and even doubted him altogether. Using each other, you had even said.

But right at this moment... none of that mattered anymore.

Not when Satoru forcefully hurled Suguru aside, fought his way through the searing heat, tearing away debris after debris, punching through the remnants of the collapsing pagoda, all while dreadfully screaming your name.

“Where are you!? Gods, answer me!” He looked like a desperate madman. He was hyperventilating, bloodied, and yet he kept violently flinging the debris, determined to find you.

That sight of him struck you straight in the heart. He could've obliterated the whole tower with his ability if he wanted to, but he didn't. Doing so would seal your fate entirely.

He yelled your name once again, pouring his anguish and frustration into the air that his voice grew hoarse. “Where are you!”

If this isn't love, you thought almost tearfully. Then what is?

“Satoru!” and so you forced yourself to walk, despite being on the verge of collapse. Seeing him like this tore your heart to shreds. “Satoru!”

He stopped abruptly, his chest still heaving violently before turning to you. At first, he thought it was the voice inside his head. Everything around him was a chaotic blur, so when he turned to find you standing there, miraculously unharmed, he was stunned.

A shuddering breath escaped him as he gazed at you, the blue in his eyes filled with so much fright you had never seen before. "Y/N...?"

You staggered on your feet, your dress appearing singed at the edges—but you were there, alive.

"What are you doing!?" you admonished, almost in tears. "Why do you hurt yourself like that!?"

Suddenly, it was hard to breathe, but he didn't hesitate. He flung the splinter in his hand away and sprinted towards you, roughly pulling you into his arms.

"—!" he rasped, almost gasping for air, while squeezing the back of your head closer. "Heavens, I thought... I thought you were—!"

Satoru was trembling so badly in your embrace, unable to utter another word as he buried his face in your shoulder. He was beyond shaken—grunting, taking sharp breaths, and holding you so tightly that it left you at a loss of words.

He only pulled back once, albeit shakily, to have a good look of your face. There was one bruise on your cheek and you were covered in soot.

But you were still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"I'm fine..." you tried reassuring him, lips wobbling, placing a hand on his palm that touched your face. "I'm fine now..."

Then Satoru pulled you close again, and you came willingly. Simply holding you, he inhaled the scent of the roses mixed with ash in your hair, feeling your breath on his neck.

To see this man, usually so self-assured, reduced to such a mess out of fear for you touched you deeply. You nestled closer to him, feeling a sense of peace wash over you.

In that moment, as you two clung to each other, nothing else matters.

"You've always coveted what I have..."

The ice in your eyes and the chill in your words felt like a curse. Hanabi was beside herself every day ever since she had left Western Empire. No way, she even saw you in her dreams!

Granted, her impulsiveness had almost cost her everything. She shouldn't have placed that curse on the necklace— she shouldn't have dared to attempt it in the first place.

But seeing that piece that had tied you two together—the testament to Naoya's remaining affection for you, however small it was—made Hanabi burn with jealousy. Why did he remember you still? Hadn't he dethroned you and chosen her?

Also, why did you put it as if she had been trying to take all that you had? She was now a royal consort, she was just demanding what she was due!

"...and sooner or later, that will be your downfall."

Hanabi shivered as an intense chill seemed to enter her body, spreading rapidly to her limbs and brain, immobilizing her. What is it? Why are your words struck her to the core?

"My lady, are you alright?" her attendant walked up to her as she clutched her chest.

"I-I..." Hanabi faltered, trying to even her breath. "I'm not feeling that well..."

"Shall I get the physician? You do look pale..."

"Please do."

Damn you. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. You must've cursed her, that must be it! Why else did she keep hearing your voice?

"Sending you back to Naoya is a punishment in itself—you know that by now."

No, she had come this far. Even if she couldn't have Naoya's favor, even if she couldn't become the empress... she would fight tooth and nail to remain a consort.

After all, all her life, she was meant for this.

. . .

And true to her conviction... once again, fortune favors the bold.

"My lady, congratulations! You're with child!"

Hanabi blinked at the cheerful royal physician as he delivered the news. "R-really? Are you... sure?"

"Certainly! Oh, this is great news! The emperor will surely be delighted by this news!"

For a full minute, Hanabi sat there, stunned in amazement. She had really done it, and if it was a boy this time, then...

"Aha..." she burst into a small titter then, before breaking into a full-blown laugh. "Ahahaha!"

You're wrong, Empress Y/N. This time, I will show you.

"Congratulations, my lady!" the ladies around her gathered, showering her with praises. And Hanabi knew that finally, her time had come.

True paradise begins in hell. And now, I've risen from that hell.

Contrary to what you told Satoru, you were, in fact, not fine.

Shoko was the one who led you out of the burning pagoda, sustaining burns herself in the process. Immediately after you found Satoru, who was frantically on the verge of losing his sanity searching for you, you collapsed in his arms.

You had inhaled a significant amount of smoke, there was a gash in your arm, and you were even bleeding due to the stress.

And therefore, you were put on bedrest for the next upcoming weeks by the royal physician's orders and by extension, Satoru's.

However, during those three weeks, Satoru never visited you even once.

. . .

"Are you sure you're well enough to be walking around already?"

After being confined to your bedchamber for what felt like forever, you decided to take a stroll in the royal gardens. Shoko was the one in charge of watching you like a hawk these days. She didn't usually follow you around—you noticed she often went out on her own—but lately, she insisted on being by your side.

"Mm-hmm, I'm perfectly well now, Shoko," you gave her a smile as you admired the blue roses in the bushes. "You don't have to keep an eye on me all the time. I'm feeling better already."

You would be lying if you said you didn't miss your husband. A part of you of course wanted Satoru to check on you, or at least, your baby. Three weeks had passed, and your belly was now rounder and heavier.

"Oh, well... That's good then..."

Shoko seemed a bit unsure, frowning even, and you had your guesses, so you decided to bite the bullet. "How is Satoru these days?"

"Eh?"

"You must've seen him. He isn't avoiding you like he does me."

"Your Majesty..." Shoko let out a long sigh, seemingly exasperated and sorry at the same time, and you knew you hit the mark with it. "He's well, don't worry too much about him."

"Is he taking enough breaks?"

"He— err, I'm not really sure about that."

"Then, next time you see him, along with my general condition, tell him that I want him to do so."

You didn't mean to make Shoko uncomfortable, and if you did, then it was most definitely not what you intended. You just wanted a way to communicate with your brooding husband, that was all.

"You absolute imbecile! This is beyond ridiculous, why are you refusing to meet your own wife and talk to her?!"

If it had been anyone other than Countess Shoko, they would have certainly been hanged for their outrageous words against the emperor.

Satoru actually felt bitter for not visiting you ever since that day of the fire. Truth to be told, he was worried sick, the terror of thinking you might have perished in the blaze still lingered with him to this day.

He wanted nothing more than to hug you and bury his face in yours. He genuinely wanted you to be well and safe, always. Preferably, if he could keep you close too.

So, why did he avoid you on purpose?

First, the utter awkwardness. Second, the very fact that you had allowed those scums from Eastern Empire to be released. He still couldn't accept it, no matter how. In his eyes, you did it out of love for Naoya.

And that, in and of itself, was like a betrayal of his heart.

"She is becoming unhappy," Shoko noted earlier, frustration evident in her tone. "And on some nights, she also experiences hip pains due to carrying your baby. You're heartless if you don't even come to look at her even once!"

But then, Satoru felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. His unborn child.

...he had left you more or less alone now, hadn't he?

In reality, you preferred the secluded comfort of your study over the royal gardens.

And yet, that beloved study Satoru gifted you on the day he married you and you became the empress of Western Empire felt constricting lately. You almost felt claustrophobic.

Maybe it was the burgundy walls, or perhaps it was the sting of bitterness in your chest that you tried to suppress so others wouldn't see. You didn't really care which though.

So, you often wandered through the gardens to enjoy the fresh air, and at times, stopping by the spot where the pagoda once stood.

Nothing. Now that was all that left. The image of a once-beautiful tower reduced to dust and the scorched earth evoked a sense of loss within you, and what made it more painful was knowing that you were the one responsible for its destruction.

But still, what hurt the most was... what had happened to the man who had trembled with fear, believing you might not have escaped the burning pagoda? Why had he spared you with nothing at all?

"Meow..."

You looked at the squirming cat in your arms, his fluffy tail tickling you. "Oh, Sugu-chan, do you want to take a walk too?"

The clear blue eyes of Satoru's pet cat looked back at you demurely before he leapt out of your arms and trotted ahead, as if leading the way.

With nothing better to occupy your time, you often played with Sugu-chan to amuse yourself these days. The cat, with its gentle disposition, frequently curled up next to you for comfort and he somehow made those days better.

"Sugu-chan, don't stray too far!" you called out, trailing closely behind him. Knowing well that you weren't well enough to chase after him should he run off, you watched to ensure he didn't disappear from sight. "Oh!"

And sigh, he did just that. Sugu-chan leapt into the bushes, prompting you to release a resigned breath before navigating through the maze-like foliage.

"Sugu-chan, where are youuu?" you drew a breath, glancing around in confusion. "If only you were calmer like your namesake..."

After navigating several corners, you turned another and spotted a fluffy white fur, and you swore to the skies that you would yank Sugu-chan by his tail if he were to wander off again, when—

"Meooow!"

"Bad, bad cat! Why did you bite me—!?"

—and there you saw your husband, crouching down as he clutched his hand, before he whipped his head to look at you—

"Satoru," you straightened your back by instinct, your heartbeat quickening.

His eyes turned blank for a second, before those blue pools regarded you with a look you couldn't really discern. "Y/N."

. . .

It was awkward silence throughout the way. You didn't even realize when you had arrived at Satoru's study.

You had wanted this unsettling atmosphere between you to end. Why couldn't both of you just be honest already? You were about to voice your thoughts when suddenly Satoru, who had his back on you, suddenly said:

"I will not have a scandal. Therefore, you will behave in a way that nothing is known against you. In return, you will retain your privileges as the empress of the Western Empire, and continue to fulfill your duties."

That? That's the first thing he said to you after those weeks sonorous silence? This stiff, faux nonsense of him pardoning you of your supposed treason?

"Is that all you have to say to me?" you blurted almost immediately, feeling your anger rising. "After everything—"

"After everything— yes." Satoru's back was still facing you, his light blue robes shifted slightly as he tucked his hands inside his pocket pants. "Despite everything, I have nothing but concern for you, Empress. And your act of treason— even if you take no offense, I still consider it a stain on my name to let a pair of criminals go free. Consider it my generosity that I decided to overlook it."

Your body felt like shaking, his strained and formal words irked you, and at the same time, pierced through your heart and tore it to pieces.

"I've told you— I can't let Megumi be condemned for a deed he hasn't committed," you stated firmly, staring hard at his back as if you could bore a hole through him. "He is a kind boy, he used to be my ward. And you know as well as I do, he isn't capable of such a thing!"

"What about that consort—the woman who overtook your place?" he suddenly turned to face you, and the expression on his face almost made you shrink. There was no emotions in his eyes, just a dark hue of blue. "She was the one staging it, wasn't she?"

"I'm not vindictive enough to sentence her to her death here, Satoru." The more you argued about this, the more you felt like you were losing him. "Naoya will deal with her as he sees fit."

The mention of your ex-husband seemed to trigger something in him that his lips curled into a sneer.

"So much trust you place in him. As I thought, I should've never expected the same for me. Granted, we're just using each other, aren't we?"

Your own words thrown back at you, it felt like your shattered heart was being stomped on and reduced to dust, because how could he?

Still, you blinked away your tears, steeling yourself with the one fact even Satoru wouldn't be able to refute. "You said it yourself—you intend to use me for your war against the Eastern Empire. How am I not supposed to see that as you using me?"

You let out a scoff when Satoru wasn't able to answer you, but then suddenly it occurred to you that there might be another reason, one you had suspected, and yet still not able to make sense of.

"I'd think jealousy is insulting to you, so why?" you questioned, suddenly feeling a sense of betrayal. "Why is it that you can't believe that I can love you the same way I did Naoya? Or possibly even more?"

To Satoru, that very thought still felt like a thorn inside his chest. How you managed to see through him almost made his facade falter—

"And if you feel that it's unfair to you how you're the one who keeps proving yourself—then tell me," you suddenly demanded with a gritted teeth. "How am I supposed to believe you've loved me when I know marrying me came at just the right time for your goals?"

"That's not true!" he suddenly raised his voice, all pretentiousness forgotten. Right in this moment, to your surprise, he no longer resembled the cold, distant emperor he seemed to be.

“From the very moment you led me by the hand twenty years ago, I’ve longed for you! And now that I finally have you— it goes beyond mere infatuation or obsession! Heavens help me, but fuck it— I love you so damn much!”

It was everything. Satoru had poured his entire heart out in one go, believing it would be enough, until he saw you trembling, visibly holding back tears.

Your pretty eyes widened as you took in his confession. Your precious lips parted slightly, wobbling in effort to hold yourself together—

—until you felt light all of a sudden, as if the boulder in your heart had came crashing down, as if you had let go of all fears, and a small chuckle escaped you.

"You said, the woman you thought to have a semblance of affection for you doesn't exist," your voice was uneven but you tried so hard to sound clear, a relieved smile forming on your lips. "But she does. I do."

“I love you, Satoru.” The first of your tears fell then, and your voice came out in a sob. “I believe I love you. I'm the happiest while being with you. And so, to hear you say that I'm just a part of your plans makes me so incredibly sad, I—”

“I just want… the honest truth from you.” You took a deep breath to steady yourself, your eyes glistening like diamonds as you fought back the tears.

He swore something inside him twisted and bled at your voice, and suddenly, nothing else mattered—

Not when you have bared everything.

Before he could think, he took two decisive strides towards you and pulled you into his arms.

"Don't cry..." he pulled you tighter into him. "I'm sorry— don't cry, sweetheart, please—"

You kept sniffling into him, and Satoru felt his heart break then, as never had he seen you so utterly dejected that you surrendered in his arms.

How was it possible that the mere realization and sight of your genuine affection and tears reduced him to a man who would give up everything for you?

“It’s true, I have been planning to wage war against Eastern Empire for years. I took measures to keep them in check, and I do think having you by my side would definitely give me an advantage. But that’s not it... when I saw how you were being wronged there, I was even more convinced it was the rightest thing to do.”

He loves you. Even if he had committed various things, be it heinous or deceptive, one truth that transcends all is that his love for you is genuine.

“You mean so much to me,” he whispered into your ear, his hand tracing along your spine. “Everything else might be true, but you— no, I have loved you first before everything.”

Oh. You looked up to him, finding his clear, steadfast gaze on you. So this is how he is like when he isn’t hiding behind that crafty smile. When he is being most truthful.

The overflowing emotions obliterated whatever doubts you had left. You felt full. A profound, pervasive sense of love radiated through your myriad thoughts.

And to him, nothing was more liberating than knowing that you returned his love with equal fervor.

You felt bliss... utter bliss.

You didn't really know when you fell asleep, but it felt like the best rest you had in ages. For weeks, you had been waking up in the middle of the night, either in cold sweat or feeling tingling, barely-there stabs in your growing belly. On those nights, you would clutch the pillow beside you for comfort.

But tonight, you felt warm, and the first thing you noticed was Satoru's hair right in your face. He had laid his head above your chest, and his fingers were gently stroking your visible bump.

"Satoru...?" you asked sleepily, and he immediately turned to you in slight surprise.

"Did I wake you?" he looked almost alarmed. "Or do you feel any kind of pain or—?"

"No, just—" and you bit your lip when that familiar stab of pain shot through your hips. Your hand pressed against the spot as you let out a small grunt.

"Hey, what do you feel now?" Satoru immediately moved beside you, capturing you in the warmth of his embrace. "Does it hurt much? Do I need to call for—"

"No need to, it's fine—"

"It's not fine," he firmly retorted, his jaw set in a tight line. "The royal physician will come here first thing in the morning and that's final."

A faint smile formed in your lips as you curled closer and sighed contentedly into him. "Whatever you wish then, Your Majesty."

Satoru took that as a hint of sarcasm, but he simply pressed you closer and placed his warm hand over the spot where your hand rested. "Shoko told me. How long have you been enduring this?"

"Fairly recently, actually. A few weeks or so..."

I never knew. He berated himself because how would he be aware of this when he had completely shut you down? The stress must've gotten to you, and you were so delicate right now...

"Sorry," he sighed into your hair, his voice so quiet it was almost unheard. "From now on, everything that makes you uncomfortable, please tell me."

You looked up at him, searching his face, and when your innocent eyes met his, he relented.

"I'll do everything in my power to ensure you have a smooth journey in delivering our child." His words, sharp yet genuine, made your heart nearly leap out of your chest. "I hate seeing you in any sort of discomfort."

He fretted over you this much and yet he used to think you wouldn't show him the same affection in return. That was so ridiculous when you thought about it now.

"Ah," you giggled freely, wrapping your arms tight around him, and Satoru was taken aback at how that simple affirmation from you made something inside him feel lighter.

His endearing queen, who loved him back, now right in his arms. As he massaged your waist, he thought back to many years of careful planning and schemes, just for one particular goal...

“Not anymore,” he told you quietly, and you sleepily blinked your eye open. “I love you too much to break your heart.”

“Hmm?”

You were puzzled, and could feel his hot breath at such a close distance. And then those blue crystal of eyes met yours, full of warmth, and the corners of his lips curved into a soft smile, one that caught you by the heart.

“I’m made of many things. The emperor of this land, a soldier of many ambitions... but in the end, just a man.” His voice was languid and yet so gentle that it almost lulled you to sleep again. “If it were up to me, I’d have no qualms with warring the Eastern Empire. But now... I no longer wish to do that.”

Anticipation surged within you at his words, but still...

Noticing your reluctance, Satoru pinched your cheek and smiled. "It's not what you want. I thought I could proceed with it even if it'd leave you heartbroken... but apparently I can't."

And with his next proclamation, you knew without a doubt that this time, they were truer than anything else.

“And do you know? Because I love you, I’m willing to do anything for you. Mark my words, my queen— From now on... Heaven and earth, I would give it all to you.”

"Mm..." Whether it was your hormones or the sheer sincerity that shone through his words, tears were brimming in your eyes as Satoru gave you his oath. "Thank you... for thinking of me."

"Anything for you, sweetheart." He dipped his head to press a kiss on your lips and you were about to snuggle closer to him when you felt that familiar flutter and suddenly let out a gasp—

"Satoru!" you exclaimed, almost startling him, but you immediately reached out and placed his hand on your belly. "Feel it!"

And then, his eyes widened slightly. It was the most wondrous moment he had ever experienced in his life as he felt the baby inside you kick and ripple beneath his palm.

"Ah..." he exhaled the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Baby... she moves..."

The very idea of a precious baby girl that was an exact replica of you suddenly made his heart lurch. Satoru swore in that moment to protect her with his life... he didn't know it was possible, but he was already in love with her even when she wasn't born yet.

"Why are you so sure it's a girl?" you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck and smooched his jaw when he was rendered speechless. "I want a boy, you know."

Satoru snapped out of his trance and sullenly huffed. "I still hope it's a girl. I want a princess I can spoil rotten."

"I want a baby boy who looks like you." Your sincere wish surprised him, and he turned to you in bewilderment. "That way, even when you're away, I won't miss you as much since I still have the little prince near me."

"Ha." Satoru feigned a snort to cover the faint blush steadily gathering in his cheeks. Good heavens, how cute was it that he wanted a girl who resembled you and you wanted a boy just so he'd look like him? He was so giddy that he failed to come up with a witty comeback for you.

Pure bliss. After everything, this is your life from now on.

Shoko stood in front of your chambers the next morning, her heels clacking like a ticking watch of doom.

Unlike the everlasting frown etched on her face, she was actually in a dilemma, debating her choices outside your chambers. It was late morning already, but she'd hate to go in if you were not alone.

If she went ahead and caught you with Gojo on your bed—and worse, naked—with her own eyes... no, it was unthinkable what the sight would do to her. She would never recover. She would spew unforgivable profanities and Gojo might have her banished for real.

"What are you doing?"

Shoko whirled around so fast to suppress her shriek, and shot a look of distaste as soon as she saw who was behind her—Duke Geto. "Don't sneak up on me like that! You're not small like Sugu-chan!"

Suguru, prim and neat with his tied bun and black robes, raised one eyebrow, clearly swallowing any comments regarding the cat. "What are you doing, loitering in the hallway?"

"The empress hasn't woken up yet, and it's nearly midday. She has engagements with the master of tea parties later."

"Don't bother. Satoru's there. He'll most likely tell you that her schedule can be rearranged, and his word is law."

Shoko barked a laugh and Suguru too broke into a smile.

"So, they're good now?"

"Yeah... seems so."

"Thank fuck. Gojo owes me one for this."

The two friends chuckled again, relieved to know that the cold war between both of you had ceased.

Suguru leaned against the wall, his eyes crinkled at a memory. "Don't you remember those days, when Satoru used to watch the empress at each and every ball we attended, back when she was still the crown princess?"

Shoko crossed her arms, letting out a loud snort. "Oh yes. Everyone talked about him. The prince smitten by a rival country's betrothed... his reputation took a hit, but he never cared."

"I never took him seriously until recently. He was so adamant in his plans for the East that I thought... maybe it was all just to realize his war plans."

"Geto... don't tell me," the countess eyed her longtime friend incredulously. "Have not seen enough of the empress' paintings hanging in the halls? Is that not convincing enough for you?"

Throughout almost one year of your marriage, Satoru had commissioned at least five paintings of you to hang in the palace halls. Servants, members of parliament, and peerage must have seen at least one of your pictures whenever they turned a corner.

"If that's not stupidly in love, I didn't know what that is." Shoko shook her head with a smile. "Gojo has been spellbound for like years. I just never thought he'd really have her in the end though."

Suguru and Shoko had been by Satoru’s side for many years. Suguru was the closest to him still, and he had seen his friend for everything he was.

And knowing that Satoru was genuine in choosing this path, all Suguru could do was be happy for him.

“Life always has its ways… heh, I suppose all’s well that ends well.”

SOME MONTHS LATER . . .

"There, there, Sugu-chan!"

Suguru flinched. Satoru snickered.

"Meow!"

And you continued to tickle the white cat happily, seated a few feet away from both of them with a broad grin on your face.

"Should... Her Majesty be so close to the cat?" Suguru eventually asked, casting a skeptical gaze on you. The presence of the feline was certainly not what he expected when he entered Satoru's study per his summons. "It's dirty often and may affect her health."

"No, no... I never let him walk outside anymore and he has to be cleaned all times before the empress plays with him." Satoru's sly smile was a clear sign of taunt. "Suguru~ Won't you play with him too?"

Suguru shot him a withering look, his eyes twitching again the moment you addressed the cat by his childhood nickname.

"Oh, Sugu-chan, you're so gentle..." you exclaimed with a giggle. Your fingers gently scratched the cat's chin and behind his ears, causing him to purr happily and roll onto his back.

"Meooow~"

"Anyway, why did you call me here?" Suguru let out a sigh, disregarding the background noises and leveled a questioning look at his friend and ruler of the country.

"Hmm, nothing of importance actually, my cat just misses you is all," Satoru shrugged nonchalantly and Suguru really was about to pop a vein at his blatant response.

He then threw a sharp glance towards the pet and Sugu-chan immediately let out a dissatisfied hiss. This was always the way since the first day Satoru adopted him.

"Your cat, evidently, dislikes me at first sight."

"That's because he senses your animosity!"

Seeing how uncomfortable the duke looked, you suppressed a laugh and scooped up the feline into your arms. "Forgive me, Duke Geto. It's my idea to bring you here since I'm curious how you'd react if you and Sugu-chan are in the same room..."

...well, if it was your wish, who was he to deny it? Satoru would come for his head first should he do so.

You winked. "I'll bring him out for a walk, feel free to talk to your heart's content."

"Don't overexert yourself," Satoru warned, his playful expression towards him shifting to a concerned look for you, surprising Suguru in the process. "If walking is too much, take a rest."

"Yes, yes... I'll be fine~"

Satoru never took his eyes off you until you left his study, and Suguru couldn't help but smile.

"The way you always soften around her will never fail to surprise me," he noted with a hint of amusement.

"Then get surprised all your life because that's all I will do," he retorted with a proud smirk. "Oh right... how is the progress for the new courtyard?"

To replace the pagoda lost in your incident, Satoru came up with another gift for you—a private courtyard for your own personal pleasure. It still remained a secret from you, with Suguru tasked to oversee its construction.

"It's expected to be done before the empress' birthday, don't worry."

"Good..." His lips curved with satisfaction, before a blush tinted his cheeks. "And by then, the baby must've already..."

You were far along now, evident from how your dresses were no longer able to hide the curve of your swollen belly. He was to become a father soon, and anyone could see how elated Satoru was.

And suddenly he fixed his sharp gaze on his friend. "And Suguru, what about the other thing I asked? Have you looked into it?"

"Yeah...?"

"Zen'in Naoya's wench—" Satoru's eyes glinted with something akin to malice, as he still had that smile. "What did you find about her?"

Royal Consort Hanabi. A while ago, he also asked him to investigate her background, and Suguru almost forgot about it if he hadn't asked.

"Prior working as a palace servant, she was a former maid for Duke Kamo. As with all servants there, she was not treated kindly."

"Kamo? Interesting..."

The Kamo clan used to sit at Eastern Empire's throne up until Naoya's ancestors usurped it. Now, the heir remained a wealthy duke, and it was well-known that the fates of anyone who crossed him didn't end well.

Satoru hummed, barking a snort. "Well, I suppose that's it then. Suguru, proceed as is."

"I really thought you were done with any of your revenge plans." Suguru really didn't want to bring it up but he wasn't sure if this would bode well.

"I've given up on spilling blood, because that's not what my queen wants..." Satoru's smile froze on his face, yet his eyes sparkled. "But that doesn't mean I'll let that lowly bitch go unscathed. Our empress might be a saint and have chosen to spare her, but I most certainly am not as forgiving."

The chilly white light of the chandelier above him cast an eerie glow on Emperor Gojo Satoru at that moment, and Suguru almost shuddered.

"Didn't I tell you before? Anyone who dares to lay their hands on my empress... they have to pay the price."

Meanwhile in the Eastern Empire's palace, the royal consort still was the object of everyone's praises as of late.

It was almost astonishing how well she was treated recently, all because she was carrying the emperor's child, Hanabi thought with irony. So this was her life now.

Valued when she is able please the emperor, discarded when she fails to do so.

Sometimes it made her wonder, if it were still you in her place, would you be treated the same way? Or would you always be revered just like you were, unconditionally?

No matter. Her thoughts always leaned towards comparing herself with you, despite how much she hated it. Yet it was no use thinking of it now.

After all, now Naoya was in her arms.

She couldn't help but marvel at the sight of his sharp eyebrows and jaw. Hanabi had always thought, he was most handsome when he was vast asleep, when he wasn't hurling profanities at her or anyone else.

At first, she just wanted his love, and then a happy ending. She was never audacious enough to covet the empress' seat. But now she had to, after what you said to her.

"...that will be your downfall."

How could you? How dare you? Hanabi had gone through so much, who are you to dictate how her fates will turn out?

She now carried a son. She had even gone to an oracle to make sure of it. Soon, she would be the empress of this empire, and you would be forced to regard her as an equal.

And she was very much looking forward to that day…

Safe to say... you have long since thrown away any thoughts regarding the one woman who isn't worth a second of your time in your blissful days...

“Satoru, hng— ahh!” a lustful, provocative moan escaped your lips as you bucked your hips against his lips—face—and all the while, you weren’t even properly dressed.

But your emperor of a husband insisted on dipping his head inside your thin bathrobe and devouring you right on the staircase leading to the bathing chamber.

“Ah—aah—hah!” you threw your head back, spreading your legs impossibly wider around his shoulder, as you felt his lips licking your drenched nub.

You wanted so badly to see him, but weren’t able to do so as not only your belly had become such a dome that hindered you from seeing your lower half, Satoru hiding under your robes meant you wouldn’t be able to see him at all.

And so, all you could do was feel, feel and feel.

Feel how sticky wet your womanhood was, feel how his hair was tickling your thighs, and feel how as he eagerly sucked and nipped at you, it almost made you see stars—

“Satoru, the servants… mmrngh! Can walk in!” you tried to reason and yet failing at the same time as a shuddering pleasure washed over you like a rising tide.

“So be it,” came Satoru’s daring reply from underneath. “Let them see… and I’ll tell them— this is how their empress comes to be s-so swollen… with the fruit of my labors!”

You moaned again unabashedly, not even bothering to hold it back as the noises you made echoed throughout the hall, your fingers curling and clawing at the marbled tiles.

And soon, you couldn’t hold it in anymore as you came around his tongue.

“Ah…” you writhed breathlessly, feeling how your cum helplessly gushing out, limp against the stairs. Your body jerked, and cramped as you felt him taking in everything that came out of you.

When he was done, Satoru gently removed your light robe and embraced you, taking in every detail. He admired the cascade of your hair over your shoulder, the softness of your skin—seemingly even softer in recent months—and how your body gracefully accommodated the baby.

So heavy with his child… and yet it only roused his desires.

“Look at you, do I tire you out?” he chuckled, licking the remnants of your juice off his lips. You shot him an unamused look and poked his chest in response.

“Here, let me clean you up...”

After cleaning you, he gathered you and brought you to the bath tub, submerging both of you in the warm water.

Satoru pulled you close from behind, wrapping his arms around your upper body, gently kissing your neck.

“You’re so affectionate,” you giggled as you caressed his cheek. “I had half a mind that you’d be repulsed with how big I’ve become, and yet you never stray far from my bed.”

“Nonsense. Your chamber is the temple and I worship any ground you walk on.”

“You’re not worshipping me?”

“I do more than just worship you, my goddess.” Satoru drawled out with a lazy smile, burning a wet kiss on your face. “You know that.”

At this moment, you felt warm and fulfilled, resigning yourself to your husband's arms with a contented sigh... until you let out a low hiss when you felt the familiar pounding from inside your belly.

"Shh," Satoru warm hand pressed on the protruding spot in your bump, soothing you. "There, there... don't hurt your mama, hmm?"

Soon, you'd have your baby in your arms, and your heart melted at the very thought. That little baby would soon be running the palace halls, bringing joy to this empire.

"You know I'd protect you from anything and everything," your husband said to you in a whisper, lovingly breathing in your scent. "So my only wish for you is to deliver the baby safely. Afterwards, leave the rest to me, hmm?"

I don't want to lose you. That was clearly the fear behind his words. Satoru's grip on you tightened and you kissed his arm, reassuring him.

After everything you went through, this would be your happy ending, and you would do whatever it takes to win it.

And then the day comes —

Your labor pains started at the crack of dawn, and you were immediately brought to the birthing chambers afterwards.

Even within the confines of your chambers, your cries echoed through the halls. Shoko and several of your maids stayed with you inside, while the Archbishop guarded the entrance.

"It's almost a day and a half," Satoru muttered restlessly, unable to go on with his day as he paced outside. He had been with you when you woke up to your waters breaking, and he hadn't been able to think straight since.

A maid rushed outside with bloodied towels and he immediately stopped her. "How is the empress? Is she alright?"

The petrified maid bowed her head. "Her Majesty is losing blood, Your Majesty!"

He lost all reasons that very moment. "I have to come inside—!"

"You can't be in there, Your Majesty!" Archbishop Yaga sternly forbid, standing in his way. "It's women's business inside—you should be ready when they announced the birth of the child!"

Satoru's eyes twitched with fury and he was really about to drive past him when this time, it was Shoko who came out, looking alarmed. "Gojo! She's asking for you!"

"He cannot!"

"Suguru..." Satoru turned to his friend with a look and immediately, the duke went to the man’s side.

The emperor then regarded him with an unsettling smile. "Do you like being the Archbishop?"

"Huh?"

"Would you want to keep your position as the Archbishop?"

"Your Majesty!"

"Do you believe you can keep your position as the Archbishop... by defying me?"

Yaga fell silent, as if he had just swallowed a sour lemon, and Satoru seized the opportunity to push him aside. "Then move."

Even after Satoru had rushed inside, Suguru remained near the archbishop and Yaga looked at him incredulously. "He went inside already, why are you still here?"

"His Majesty's orders. Have to keep an eye for you for evaluation since he has another candidate in mind should he deem you unfit in your role..."

"Who is the other candidate!?"

"Ah, he told me his name was... Priest Akutami?"

. . .

Pain blinded your senses that you fell back to the sheets after strenuously pushing, and the next thing you knew, Satoru's face was in your sight.

"Sweetheart, hey..." he took hold of your hand and planted a firm kiss on it. His cerulean eyes gleamed brightly as he gazed at you. "I'm here now."

"Satoru—" your voice came out as a whisper, before another contraction seized you and you moaned. Your eyes rolled back involuntarily as the intense pain surged through you once more. You could feel how close you were, yet it was so painful you could barely breathe.

"Take deep breath, here—" he helped you to sit straighter and gave you his arm to hold.

"Your Majesty, I can see the head already!" the midwife exclaimed in joy, and Satoru turned to you with a smile.

“A little bit more,” he encouraged you, pressing a kiss on your temple. “Just a bit more, my sweet, you can do it, hmm? Here, hold onto me.”

And with his voice as your lifeline, you groaned and pushed once more, putting a part of your soul into it before you blacked out and collapsed in his arms.

At first, everything was silent, but then a sound reached your ears— a cry. Your baby's first cry.

"I-it's a princess!" the midwife announced, and the room erupted into gasps of wonder.

You looked at Satoru through bleary eyes, and for the first time, you saw him utterly speechless.

He was struck by the sight of that tiny being being gently cleaned by Shoko before his gaze returned to you.

You were sweaty, panting, limp, appearing haggard with tears in your eyes and streaking your face, and yet...

You are still the most beautiful thing he has ever laid his eyes on.

"A girl... just... like you wanted..." you managed to say with a hoarse voice and wobbly smile, and seeing you, without a moment's hesitation, Satoru went in and locked you in a deep kiss.

"Thank you—" even he himself was near tears when he pulled away and pressed his forehead against yours. There were so many things he wanted to tell you, countless celebrations he envisioned, all in praise of you and the heavens above for granting him such unparalleled happiness—

"...!" But suddenly, you curled into him, suppressing a scream and failing that it turned into a devastating wail, and you dug your nails into the flesh of his arm. "Ahhh!"

"What happened?" Satoru looked at you in alarm, then to the midwife who hurried to tend to you once more. "What happened to the Empress?!"

The midwife probed your belly, her expression lighting up with understanding. "O-oh my... there is another baby, Your Majesty!"

He didn't have time to dwell on the revelation when you cried out again. Setting aside all surprise, he aided you once more, and after more minutes of intense effort—

"A prince! The Empress has given birth to a prince!"

Twins. The whole Western Empire rejoiced at the news that their new empress had delivered a prince and princess for the nation.

Amidst the flurry of upcoming festivities and celebrations, you spent most of your days resting, as the birth had taken a lot out of you. Satoru took charge of the planning again, despite his busy schedule, and of course, he never failed to visit you and the babies regularly.

And whenever he did, his breath was always taken away.

Two precious babies lay still in the bassinet, peacefully asleep. Satoru gently poked each of them on the cheek.

The princess... as if the heavens had answered his prayers, she resembled you so closely that he fell in love all over again. She was so precious and small, and he imagined she would grow into a beauty just like you.

Satoru had sworn it before and did so again—he would protect her at all costs.

And the prince... he was so much like Satoru that it made his heart skip a beat. With his hair and eyes, his one concern was whether he had inherited his curse too. But regardless, he was determined to help and guide him should that day ever come.

When the boy cooed in his sleep, Satoru knew he too owned a part of his heart. He would definitely raise him well, teach him how to protect you and his sister, and one day, to succeed him as well.

As of you... you were asleep much like your children, and Satoru failed to hold back a smile. He gently combed your hair and just like that, you were roused from your sleep.

"Satoru, hello," you croaked and leaned into his touch.

His eyes fondly crinkled as he looked at you. "How are you feeling?"

"Good. It's been weeks. I've been feeling better for a while actually." You threw him a meaningful smile. "I might've cheated my way out of royal duties to rest..."

"Heh. Then keep cheating until the allotted time then. I'll permit it."

You raised an eyebrow. "When will my time be up?"

"The ceremony to present our babies..." Satoru played with your fingers. "We're expected to hold them and show them to the masses. You have to be there so they won't forget who the empress is."

"Right..." but you suddenly deflated and your husband tilted his head. "After that... we can't keep them out of the prying eyes anymore, everyone would delve into their affairs too."

Satoru's eyes fixed on you, sincere and true. "We can't avoid it, but if you wish for them to be out of the limelight for a little more time, I can arrange it. Your wishes come first."

The thought that your precious babies would be faced with many court intrigues made you want to keep them inside the protection of your womb a little longer. Yet, just as you and Satoru had experienced yourselves, sitting at the highest seat of monarchy required unbending will. Both of you would have to teach that strength to your children.

As if knowing what you were thinking, Satoru gathered both of your hands and squeezed it with a smile.

“Still, we are going to be there for them, are we not? Don’t worry. I’m here, and there’s no way I’m letting our son face any sort of curse alone.” He caressed your knuckles. “And you will be here for our daughter, teaching her how to become a magnificent lady just like you. As long as we’re here... they’ll be okay, hmm?”

Right at that moment, as you stared back at his deep, sparkling eyes, you could've sworn that you had fallen in love with Gojo Satoru once again.

You used to think that to love is to be accepted wholly, but after everything you had experienced, you realized that it also came with a load of worries, and you used to fear them, until...

A smile so pretty bloomed in your face as you squeezed his hand back.

“I love you,” you held his gaze unwaveringly, your eyes shining like glitters. “So long as we’re together, there’s nothing we can’t do, yeah?”

He seemed taken aback at first, before breaking into a smile so dashing it was almost blinding.

“Chasing after you and making you my empress is possibly the greatest deed I’ve achieved my entire life,” Satoru declared with a grin, and you knew your heart was truly his in every sense then.

“So, right. From now on and forevermore— You and me. Always.”

. . .

The presentation of the new crown prince and princess of Western Empire was an unforgettable affair. The grandeur of the celebration rivaled even the festivities of your wedding itself.

Given that it was both a ceremony for the babies and also nearing your birthday, Satoru decided to host a grand ball to mark the occasion. This lavish event ensured no one would dispute your position, regardless of how you came to hold it, and it was also befitting the bestowal of official titles upon your children.

Your son and daughter squirmed in their crib as they were brought forward, and once again, as you stood before the assembled court, you felt a twinge of reluctance to finally present them to everyone.

But Satoru's eyes held you with so much certainty that you found reassurance in his gaze.

And by the moment he cradled your son and you held your daughter, and he declared to the court—

"Here I present to you, the Crown Prince and Crown Princess of Western Empire!"

You feel wholly sure. With Satoru by your side, you let go of all your fears. Time and time again, he had proved the extent of his love for you, and as you ushered a new era with him, you believed all was going to be well.

Just like your coronation not long ago, the crowd cheered in joy.

Gazing upon the sea of people roaring and cheering below… a familiar warmth surged within you.

Once again, it was a sight beyond belief for you, as they chanted praises and acclamations—

“LONG LIVE THE CROWN PRINCE!”

“ALL HAIL THE EMPEROR!”

“LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE!”

SOME WEEKS LATER . . .

"We've received a very strange invitation..."

You looked up from your baby boy and curiously peeked at one of Satoru's aides who was on duty today, Todo Aoi. He had come bearing news.

You had always thought he was quite eccentric, but today, he looked uncharacteristically serious.

"Strange, how?" Suguru questioned.

"From?" Satoru added with a totally uninterested expression.

"Eastern Empire," the man coughed awkwardly, as if thinking hard. "Apparently, a prince has been born and the royal consort is to be crowned as the new empress..."

"Who!?" Shoko, who was holding your baby girl, whirled around in surprise.

"Royal Consort Hanabi, I believe her name is. She is to be the Empress of Eastern Empire."

It was such a deafening silence all of a sudden that you could hear a pin drop. Suguru and Shoko gaped. You were stunned.

Only Satoru who didn't seem to show any reaction to the news.

Suguru cleared his throat, feeling the need to double-take. "Empress of... where?"

"That conniving hag..." Shoko muttered under her breath, before her gaze accidentally landed on you.

You were surprised, but strangely, you didn't feel anything. Long ago, you would've been heartbroken by this turn of events, but now, it just eluded you how she could maintain her position as long as she could. Well, when one is favored by luck, anything is possible though...

Satoru suddenly clapped his hands, letting out a mocking laugh.

"Is it really that surprising?" he asked with so much sarcasm, catching all four of you off guard. "When the emperor can barely fulfill his duties, even a scullery maid could rise to become the mother of the nation. The real question is..."

It was as if a sudden chill descended upon the room when he next spoke:

"How long... will she last?"

The question is answered soon enough.

Empress Hanabi's reign in the Eastern Empire lasted for only seven days. It was known as the greatest scandal ever gracing the history.

She had given birth to a son, who was appointed as the crown prince on the same day as her coronation. Emperor Zen'in Naoya personally led the ceremony. At first glance, it really seemed well...

Until seven days later, he suddenly erupted in fury.

The palace walls have ears, and behind closed doors, servants whispered about the incident. It began with Naoya launching into a tirade, claiming that the princess born to Hanabi previously, as well as the newborn prince, were not his by blood.

It was of the highest form of treachery to deceive the crown, and so a death sentence was about to be imposed on Hanabi for this… until the emperor suddenly fell ill due to a stroke, rendering him unfit to rule. Prince Megumi ascended the throne as the new emperor.

Despite his stern demeanor, the young emperor showed abundant kindness. He considered the plight of Hanabi's children, realizing they would be in peril without their mother, so he chose to banish her instead.

. . .

How did it end up like this?

Hanabi didn't know how many days and nights she had cried, cursing fate and her life, as she was being sent away from the palace.

Everything was in her grasp. Her very grasp! Until... until—!

She sobbed her heart out once again, mourning her short-lived life, before it was cruelly robbed from her.

Her children... they were all of Naoya's blood. Despite doubts surrounding them, she was faithful to him and to the crown. All of this... was all a whole scheme to trap her!

...was it you? Could you have orchestrated this? Could you truly be so wicked as to ruin her life entirely?

"You've always coveted what I have, and sooner or later, that will be your downfall."

Was this the price of defying her social status, just like your omen, after all...?

"That can't be!" she screamed inside the wagon set to bring her to the unknown, her voice drowned by the sound of the rainstorm happening outside. "Empress Y/N... you're a horrible human being!"

With every fiber of her being, she hated you so much for ever crossing your path with hers.

Even until the end, she never realized that it was all her own doing.

After hours of journey on the road, she was brought inside a mansion she failed to recognize due to the storm at the first glance. She had given up on resisting because it was futile.

But upon realizing who awaited her in the room, she trembled in fear and backed against the wall.

Hanabi wished she could lose her sanity amidst the whirlwind madness happening to her, because really, it might be better than all of this.

His impressive height gazed down at her from above. It was impossible to hide from his piercing stare.

Duke Kamo Choso, with his crooked sneer, greeted her.

"Well, hello, Hanabi... it has been a while, huh? Did you miss me?"

- END -

🏷️ taglist

@myahfig4 @yoyo-yui @luna-v-roiya @animemanwhamangalover @hotvinimon @anpacax0 @fullwriterpoem @an-ever-angry-bi @tazuduck @alexatiu @washeduphasbeen @theiridescentdragon @aquamarine001 @saucypeanuttt @captainchrisstan @artist1936 @paprikaquinn @megumisthirdog @whatshernameis @moonjellyfishie @spn-obession @poopooindamouf @hhk-jyon @ittomain1 @kalulakunundrum @risuola @jossayuuu @wiccanindigo @alwaysfreakingout @a-trashbag @wannapizzamymindposts @roscpctals99 @chxrv @tnu-ree @sov-sin @estella-novella @homewhereitsat @manyno @coffeeluvr96 @taeminfaerie @inluvkai @mellowarcadefun @sxnkuna @nerdiellers @krokietino @tttttttf @dumb-hore @snore-3 @leopoldonfire @uziwork @hyori2 @gojoful @wr4inn @nnasv @oidloid @deeeeexx

[misctf]

Trouble at the Bachelor Party

“Dude! This is sick!”

“Bro, you’re telling me.” Liam replied, as him and his two friends explored the penthouse.

It was fully decked out. A massive flatscreen in the living room, a fully stocked bar, a beautiful view of the beach. It was everything Liam could’ve wanted. Initially, when his soon to be father-in-law offered his penthouse for the bachelor party, Liam was shocked. Mr. Reynolds often used phrases like “irresponsible”, “waste of time”, and “not good enough for my daughter” when talking about Liam. And he wasn’t afraid to let Liam know too.

“Dude! There’s a flatscreen in each bedroom too!” Chris shouted from down the hall, “Fuck, you were right. This guy’s loaded!”

It was true. Liam was marrying the heiress of a massive tech company. And Mr. Reynonds was certainly loaded. But despite his reassurances that he loved Susie, not their money, the older man viewed him suspiciously. Liam came from a pretty humble background and the world of upper class living wasn’t something he was used to. But perhaps letting them use his penthouse was Mr. Reynolds’s way of showing acceptance.

“Okay boys.” Liam said, “We have a few days here. Let’s make ‘em count.” He tossed Jeremy and Chris each a beer. After a quick toast to what was going to be the most incredible bachelor party on Earth, they downed their beers.

________________

“Lookin’ good.” Liam chuckled as he inspected himself in the mirror, “Can’t believe you’re actually getting hitched.” He flexed his bicep, “Sorry ladies, I’m off the market. Oof, I’ll have to practice that line a bit.” He grinned.

Leaving the bathroom, he found Jeremy sipping a beer on the couch. He was shirtless, wearing a pair of blue swim trunks. His dark brown hair was well styled, and his face clean shaven. He had that boy-next- door look that caused the ladies to swoon.

“Yo Jeremy, what’s up?”

“Not much, just texting Sarah.” He replied, “I forgot to let her know I got here safe and she’s pissed.”

“Oh shit dude.” Liam patted his friend on the back, “I feel for you.” Sarah could be scary when she was angry, but otherwise she was a solid 10. Liam looked forward to the day Jeremy proposed.

“All good.” Jeremy sighed, “Where the fuck is Chris?” Liam shrugged, “He kept me up all fucking night. Fucker must’ve been horny. I’ve never heard anyone moan so loud in my life.”

“Not even Sarah?” Jeremy didn’t seem amused.

“Seriously, we need to get him a girlfriend or something.”

Liam chuckled, “I guess I slept through it.”

“Lucky you.” The door to Chris's room suddenly opened and both men turned.

“Hey boys, sorry to keep you waiting!” The sing songy voice threw them both off, and Liam’s jaw dropped when he saw Chris. His muscles were proudly on display as always. But it was the tight speedo showing off his impressive bulge that shocked him, “Oh, is something wrong?” His voice carried a breathy sultriness, which was unusual for their bro.  

“Dude, I’m not one to judge, but don’t you think that’s a bit risqué?” Jeremy asked, raising an eyebrow, “What would Jesus say?” It was well known Chris was religious. In fact, Liam and Chris had met at their college’s church.

Chris shrugged and ran a hand through his curly light brown hair, “Oh this? You like?” He grinned and did a quick pose, “Come on boys, we’re burning daylight!” He said, sauntering towards the door.

________________

The walk to the beach was uncomfortable. Chris walked ahead of his two buddies at an unusually fast pace, his firm ass jiggling with each step. Liam didn’t even know where to begin. What the fuck had gotten into Chris? Usually they’d have to drag him to parties and give him pep talks to boost his confidence. But now? He was certainly turning heads.

“Wait, guys! Did you see that?” Chris asked, turning to his friends and waving excitedly, “That guy over there was totally checking me out!”

“Um, so what?” Jeremy asked, “Why do you care?”

“Do you think I should go after him? He was totally cute. And that ass- just wow.” Liam and Jeremy’s eyes widened, “What?”

“Are you gay?” Liam asked bluntly.

Chris placed a hand to his chin and shrugged, “Like totally! Since like forever probably.”

“Makes sense.” Jeremy said, “Repressed religious guys. It’s a thing.” But Liam was still having a somewhat hard time believing it. Was all their prior bro talk really a lie?

“Oh! He’s getting away!” Chris whined, “I’ll catch up with you later!” He blew them each a kiss and briskly walked over to the man from earlier, leaving Liam shook.

________________

Hours went by without hearing from Chris, and Liam’s mood tanked. Jeremy tried to cheer him up back at the penthouse. Beers and the big game on a flatscreen. Should’ve been perfect. But it wasn’t. Liam knew that Chris being gay shouldn’t matter. Good for him, right?

“Oh my god, that was incredible.” Chris said, gasping as he entered the penthouse, “How are my two besties doing?”

“Would’ve liked you around.” Liam replied, “It’s my bachelor party after all.”

Chris dramatically placed a hand to his sweaty chest, “Sue me for having fun!” His voice cracked and he headed towards his room, “If anyone needs me, I’ll be in my room.”

Liam didn’t reply. Sure, Chris is gay. Fine. But acting like a stereotypically fruity drama queen? That didn’t make sense to him. He turned to Jeremy.

“Look, its late and I’m tired. The game sucks anyway.” He said, “I’m off to bed.”

“Same bro. Gotta be up early for our tee time anyway.”

They went to their respective bedrooms. Once there, Jeremy sighed. He hated seeing his friend like this, but what could he do? Talk to Chris maybe? He'd try to salvage this party. But when he finally got comfortable in bed, the TV suddenly turned on. He was greeted by static.

“Weird.” He mumbled. He tried to turn it off with the remote, but failed. Sighing, he got out of bed to turn it off. But as he got closer, he could hear a voice. It was soft, but forceful.

“You are a gay slut. You like to fuck men.”

Jeremy raised an eyebrow, “What the fuck?” He whispered. But the voice only got louder.

“You are a gay slut. Your dick only gets hard for men.” Jeremy felt woozy as the voice reverberated in his head.

“No, I’m straight... I like...” He moaned loudly as the voice drowned out his thoughts. At this point, the screen was flashing various scenes of gay porn and Jeremy’s dick started to swell, “No... fuck...” He breathed out, “I-I... ughhh.” He tried to imagine tits and his nights with Sarah. But these thoughts were instead swapped out with images of juicy, jiggling bubble butts and twerking men.   

“You are a dominant top. You only fuck men.”

“I-I’m a gay slut?” Jeremy questioned, “I only like to fuck men?” That didn't sound right. Right? He never...

"You are a dominant top. Twinks are lucky to ride your dick."

His eyes became half lidded and vacant as the words carved his new reality.

“I’m a dominant top. Twinks are lucky to ride this cock." He said confidently, "I am a gay slut.”

Soon, the room filled with his pleasure-filled moans, his new reality taking hold over him.

________________

When Liam entered the living room the next morning, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Jeremy was aggressively caressing Chris’s face, as the two made out on the couch with their erect dicks on full display.

“What the fuck?” Liam gasped as the two men turned towards him.

“Oh Liam! Good morning!” Chris sang, ending his kiss with Jeremy.

“Fuck, just who we were waiting for.” Jeremy commented in a lower, more gravelly voice, “We have something for you.”

“No, this is fucked. What the fuck?” Liam fumed, “What about Sarah? What were you thinking?”

Jeremy shrugged, “I only like fucking men.”

Liam shook his head, “No way, fuck that.” He replied, taking a step back.

“Oh goodness, you’re upset!” Chris whined, “No Liam baby, its okay. Here, watch this.”

Before Liam could say anything, Chris turned on the TV. Static filled his field of vision. But then he heard it. Faint at first, but present nonetheless.

“You are a gay slut.” It said, and Liam grabbed his head.

“What the fuck?” He cursed, stumbling slightly.

The voice was echoing from within his head. Desperately, he moved towards the TV, wanting to shut it off. But Jeremy grabbed his arm firmly and forced him to sit between them. Liam tried to fight back, to get away from his two friends, but he felt so disoriented. The voice continued.

“You are a gay slut. You like taking cock.” It said.

Liam yelped as a needle entered his skin. He looked down to see Chris dump the contents of a syringe into his arm.

“Wh-what was that?” Liam slurred.

“Don’t worry, cutie. Just listen to the voice.” He giggled.

Liam groaned as the voice got louder and louder, “You are a gay slut. A slutty bottom. You love taking cock.”

Liam looked down and watched as his body hair started to disappear. Gone was his light dusting of chest and belly hairs, leaving him smooth. At the same time, the scruff framing his face vanished. He looked over to Jeremy, who smirked at this new development.

“Oh look at that! It’s totally working!” Chris giggled.

“No shit. Reynolds must’ve given us the good stuff.” Jeremy remarked, slowly massaging his cock.

“The good stuff?” Liam slurred, his voice cracking, “Like, what are you talking about?”

“Good because I was getting bored.” Chris sighed, “I mean, Jeremy baby, you’re an expert kisser, but like, I need a hole.” Jeremy nodded in agreement.

“A hole?” Liam whispered.

He let out a pained moan as his body temperature suddenly spiked. Sweat poured from him as his musculature dwindled away. His hard earned muscles atrophied before his terrified eyes. His bulging biceps and triceps became thin and lean, while his juicy pecs rapidly deflated. In a matter of minutes, years of workouts and optimal dieting were undone, leaving Liam slim and fragile.

“Wow, he’s so light now.” Jeremy chuckled as he man-handled his friend onto his lap. Liam yelped at the sensation of Jeremy’s erect cock grinding against his hole.

“Oh and he’s gotten shorter too! What a cutie.” Chris cooed.

“Ah, ass is still bony though.” Jeremy commented, giving it a firm squeeze.

But Liam barely registered any of this. Instead, his thoughts were filled with the words echoing from the TV. His eyes became half-lidded at this point and his resistance was fading.

“You’re just a bottom, a hole to be used by other men. You are a gay slut.” The words continued, “You like being used by other men. Your only pleasure is from getting fucked.”

“I-I’m straight... I like... I like tits.” He knew his voice sounds more feminine somehow and he cringed, “I’m a straight man.” Jeremy and Chris smirked, “I-I...” images of men getting fucked in all kinds of positions flashed on the TV, “Ohhhh I... I... I’m a...” Liam’s handsome face lost its masculine edge and his hair became lighter in color. At the same time, his cock started to shrink. Inch after inch lost as it retracted back, “Noooooo.... not my cock...” He moaned, tears now stinging at his eyes. His manhood, his masculinity. It was being stolen from him. And he was unable to stop it.

“Your only pleasure comes from your ass.”

Liam moaned again and this time his ass started to fill with jiggly fat. He could feel the extra padding build upon itself, his slim cheeks turning into mounds of soft flesh. And as Jeremy squeezed his ass again, pleasure filled his slim frame.

“Much better.” Jeremy remarked, his fingers massaging Liam’s hole, “Fuck, this is gonna feel so good.”

“Mhmm.” Chris replied, grabbing his own fistful of Liam’s juicy ass.

“Ohhhhhhhh yesssssss.” Liam slurred.

“So, what are you?” Jeremy asked.

“I-I’m...” Part of him didn’t want to say it. Didn’t want to acknowledge it. But as his lips plumped up into gorgeous cock suckers, and Jeremy’s teasing fingers penetrated him deeper, Liam was drowning in too much pleasure to care, “I...I...” The voice was so loud. It egged him on, beckoned him to admit his new truth. He wanted- no needed- to be like the men on the screen. To be fucked and used by other men. Who was he kidding? He knew what he was, “I’m like a total gay slut! I love cock.” He turned his head to look at Jeremy, then Chris, “Please daddies, use me! I need your cocks!” He begged.

And his new lovers were happy to oblige.

________________

In the afterglow of sex, the three men sat panting heavily on the couch. Liam was curled up between his two lovers, still rubbing their dicks. Despite draining them each multiple times over, he needed more. But his horny thoughts were interrupted by a video call. He grabbed his phone and smiled.

“Hey Mr. Reynolds!” Liam slurred, “Like, we love your penthouse.”

Mr. Reynolds grinned, “I can tell.” His eyes sparkled with satisfaction, “Look at you Liam. My god. You turned out better than expected. The boys at the lab earned their salaries with this one.” Liam nodded along, not really understanding the implication, “How do you feel?”

“Like a total gay slut.” He grinned, “And I love it, like so much, Mr. Reynolds.”

“Well I’m glad to hear.” he chuckled, “And are your friends treating you well?” Liam adjusted the phone so the older man could see his two lovers, who were both fast asleep, “Well looks like you have two very satisfied customers.”

Liam grinned, “Like totally.” A sense of satisfaction filling him, “Oh! Like, can you let Susie know the wedding is off? I’m like, so sorry.”

“Of course, it would be my pleasure. She’ll understand.” Mr. Reynolds replied- mission accomplished, “Now, get back to your party. Enjoy the penthouse for as long as you want.”

Liam’s eyes lit up, “OMG thank you!” The call ended, “Did you hear that?” Liam asked, his two lovers stirring awake.

And so their party continued- and it would for days. Their lives forever changed, and them none the wiser to it. But if their pleasure filled moans were anything to judge by, they certainly weren’t complaining.

[citysuk]

a baby?! | logan howlett

pairing: xmen!logan howlett x pregnant!reader

summary: some headcanons of logan with a pregnant partner.

notes: logan is so husband (not actually married) material 😭😭😭 i needed to write this for my man.

warnings: pregnancy kajsksa (it scares me to death), so much fluffy fluff. no proofread. no use of y/n but no oc neither.

Logan's protective nature would go into overdrive when you are pregnant. He'd be extra vigilant, watching your every move and refusing to let you out of his sight. "You ain't goin' nowhere, darlin'," he'd growl.

Logan would be constantly fussing over you, making sure you're eating right and taking care of yourself. He'd become a regular at the grocery store, stocking up on the necessary supplies for your pregnancy. "Can't have my baby going hungry," he'd say, tossing another loaf of bread into the cart.

Logan would be a pro at soothing you through the uncomfortable parts of pregnancy. He'd rub your back when you had cramps, hold your hair when you were sick, and provide as much comfort as he could. "It's gonna be okay," he'd murmur. "Just a few more months."

Logan would be eager to feel the baby kick and move inside your belly. He would place his hand on your stomach, feeling every little movement, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Hey there, little one," he'd whisper.

Logan would take you for late night walks in the gardens, his arm protectively around your waist, your steps slow and measured. He'd breathe in the night air, a rare peacefulness settling over him. "Can't wait to meet our kid," he'd say quietly, squeezing your hand.

Logan might be a bit nervous about being a father, but he would never let it show. He'd put on a brave front, masking his fears with his usual gruff exterior, but would secretly be reading every parenting book he can find.

As the due date got closer, Logan would become increasingly anxious. He'd be extra cautious, carrying you up and down the stairs and insisting that you rest as much as possible. "Can't have anything happen to you or the baby," he'd say, his eyes filled with worry.

Despite his tough exterior, Logan would be secretly excited about decorating the nursery. He'd take you to every baby shop in town, helping you pick out the perfect crib and the perfect color for the walls (he's the one putting everything together).

When the baby is finally born, Logan would be there, holding your hand, coaching you through the delivery. He'd whisper words of encouragement, trying to hide the tears that threatened to fall. "You're doing great, darlin'."

As soon as he lays eyes on his child, Logan's heart would instantly fill with love. He'd be torn between staring at the baby and checking on you, a range of emotions playing on his face.

Logan would be the ultimate doting father. He'd change diapers, give baths, and rock the baby to sleep. He'd sing lullabies and tell bedtime stories, his voice gruff but his words soft.

Logan would have a love/hate relationship with the baby's first word. When they said "Dada" for the first time, he'd puff up with pride, but then be secretly disappointed that it wasn't "Mama."

He would have a collection of silly nicknames for the baby, ranging from "Cub" to "Little One". He'd sometimes slip into Wolven mode and playfully growl at the baby, making them giggle.

Logan would be incredibly overprotective of the baby. Anytime someone tried to hold them, he'd hesitate and watch hawkishly. He wouldn't let anyone but his partner and the X-Men near the child, always on high alert for any potential threat. "Ain't nobody touchin' my kid, bub," he'd growl, eyes narrowed.

Logan would be the one to handle the late-night feedings and soothe the baby back to sleep. "Can't let your mama get too exhausted," he'd mutter as he rocked the baby in his arms.

Logan would be careful when the baby started walking and crawling, especially around the danger-prone X- Mansion. He'd constantly be on edge every time the baby would try to grab something sharp or crawl towards a dangerous area. "Watch yourself there, squirt," he'd say, scooping them up before they could get into trouble.

Logan would also be a very hands-on father. He'd want to teach the child everything he knows, from fighting to the wilderness. He'd take them camping and teach them how to survive in the wild. "Gotta be tough like your old man," he'd say.

Even though Logan would claim he wasn't the type to get attached to kids (LIAR), he'd secretly have a soft spot for the one you had created together.

[eicsferrari]

grammys - cs55 smau

summary: yn hard launches her relationship with carlos at the grammys

a/n: short n sweet thing i wrote during online class oops

faceclaim: sabrina carpenter

warnings: some suggestive stuff? nothing major

masterlist

જ ♡ જ

yourusername blue is this season's color

♡ liked by oliviarodrigo and others

view all comments

user7 gorgeous 😍

user19 she's at the grammys and you're not!

lilymhe blue is so your color💙

yourusername i love youuuu

user78 what is this crossover??

user2 you killed it👊🏼

user38 performance of the year <3

જ ♡ જ

sainzupdates carlos via instagram stories

♡ liked by lando and others

user1 Where is he going??

user32 people said they saw him at the grammys ???

user1 what the hell. what is he doing there?

user32 no clue

user84 when you are in a "who's the biggest carlos fan" fight but lando is your opponent

user7 what a hot man🥵

જ ♡ જ

ynupdates yn during her speech: "and lastly i want to thank my husband for being the inspiration behind many of my songs and putting up with me singing about our sex life. i love you"

view all comments

user25 HUSBAND?????? since WHEN???

user5 how can she be this beautiful? it should be illegal

user93 i need to know who was the inspiration for bed chem to thank them🙏🏼

જ ♡ જ

carlossainz55 posted a story!

caption 💪🏼💪🏼

story replies

↪user3 you're a yn fan🫶🏼 taste

↪user84 i was gonna say you two should date but she just hard launched her marriage😭

↪alex_albon we stan a successful woman ♡liked by carlossainz55

જ ♡ જ

carlossainz55 my wife went home with two grammys and one smooth operator

♡ liked by yourusername and others

view all comments

lando how could you do this to me😭😭 you are breaking my heart

yourusername you were at the wedding ???

carlossainz55 and you were my best man ???

lando i'll never recover from this betrayal

user98 this is crazy we didn't even know he was dating someone less alone MARRIED????

user52 and they are gatekeeping the wedding pictures i can't believe it💔

yourusername we'll share some soon don't worry😉

georgerussell63 tell her i'm obsessed with the album! me and carmen can't get enough and are eagerly waiting for the deluxe

yourusername i love you two❤️

user39 tom and zendaya, olivia and louis, dua and callum, yn and carlos...welcome back famous hot couples

જ ♡ જ

yourusername cause yall asked for it. here's to forever and always

♡ liked by carlossainz55 and others

comments have been disabled

જ ♡ જ

carlossainz55 posted a story!

caption it was the best day of my life

જ ♡ જ

yourusername grammys afterparty

♡ liked by taylorswift and others

view all comments

carlossainz55 preciosa😍 te amo

yourusername i love you more🫶🏼🫶🏼

user18 i love how she's so committed to the new williams blue theme, she's one of us <3

user23 just realized she also wore blue while performing🥺

user8 we love a supportive couple

alexandrasaintmleux that dress🔥🔥

yourusername 😘

carlossainz55 it didn't stay on too long

yourusername CARLOS

carlossainz55 don't act shocked you are the one who wrote juno

user68 yn x carlos baby when?

user40 calm down we just found out about them today

lando i can tell by the pictures that carlos was really drunk

yourusername ngl we both were

carlossainz55 my wife won TWO GRAMMYS we had to celebrate

williamsracing as a great poet once said: blue is this season's color💙

yourusername 💪🏼💪🏼

[lateatnewyork]

SO...WHO'S THE WAG? 001

pairing: oscar piastri x bellingham!reader

summary: jude's older sister soft launches a guy, who he has no idea about

extra information: reader is a supermodel, shes 23, and shes super famous

fc: tyla

ynbellingham

liked by landonorris, sza and 609,284 others middle picture is me when mclaren invited me to the las vegas gp view comments

judebellingham wow i see how it is ➥ ynbellingham ur such a cutie jude ➥ user09 LMAO I LOVE YN jobebellingham when were u gonna give me that pic of jude ➥ ynbellingham um lets see... never? averageynlover bro idk if i wanna be yn or be with yn user05 SHES SO PRETTY LIKE I JS STARE AT THE SCREEN WHEN I SEE HER ➥ oscarpiastri real this comment is now deleted gigihadid pretty girl ➥ ynbellingham all youu kendalljenner come for dinner ➥ ynbellingham gimme a time and place bukayosaka thank you for your services with the jude photo ➥ ynbellingham 🫡 ➥ judebellingham BRO ynsno1fan the good genes literally run in the family

thetonightshow

liked by oscarpiastri, ynbellingham and 932,628 others YN Bellingham on the Tonight Show, she opens up about her longtime partner, her music career and who she's currently brand ambassador for! Check out the amazing and multitalented 23 year old exclusively on youtube! ynbellingham view comments

user09 SHES BEEN IN A RELATIONSHIP FOR 2 YEARS ynschild WE HAVE A FATHER??? bellinghamsfan chat what is going on ynismother ok but her looks 😍 user58 the bellingham genes are too strong for us to rival 😞🙏 averageynlover EVERYONE FOCUSED ON HER BF BUT SHES LITERALLY RELEASING AN ALBUM ➥ user04 MY THOUGHTS EXACTLY

ynbellingham

liked by oscarpiastri, jobebellingham and 1,893,482 others surprise!!! my debut album 'racing' is coming out on december 8th! andddd im going on tour next year on 14th march, tickets will go up on january 1st, ily guys 🫶 view comments

sabrinacarpenter i cant believe im singing with u🧎‍♀️ judebellingham im so proud of you ynn jobebellingham so proud to be your younger brother ynn oliviarodrigo IM SO EXCITEDDDD conangray december 8 come fasterrr sza you lowkey ate with those tracks gigihadid so proud of you 💗 kendalljenner cant wait ! krisjenner 😍 khloekardashian yay! imaanhammam catch me blasting it in the car anokyai blessing us with this alexanderasaintmleux im so happy lilymhe private show plssss mclaren playing this everywhere when it comes out user09 MOTHER averageynlover IF I DONT GET TICKETS rbrmylove CLAIMING 143 (i want you)

oscarpiastri

liked by ynbellingham, danielricciardo and 409,382 others yes shes (ethe)real view comments

user09 YOUR HONOR HES DOWN BAD ➥ rbrmylove HE CALLED HER ETHEREAL landonorris ok caption kinda cute ➥ landonorris but i thought i was ur only man???? ➥ landonorris r u cheating on me ➥ danielricciardo r YOU cheating on me???? ➥ landonorris oh maxverstappen 👍 ➥ user45 max ur so dry 😭 alexanderasaintmleux TELL HER TO COME BY SOON ➥ oscarpiastri she said yes 😊 alexalbon oscar has rizz confirmed?? ➥ oscarpiastri im surprised lily hasn't left u ➥ lilymhe me too tbh ➥ alexalbon WHAT op81loml IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS ➥ user49 wait who??? ➥ op81loml THE yn bellingham

ynbellingham

liked by oscarpiastri, lilymhe and 603,481 others date night with the cutest person alive view comments

user09 SHES GLOWINGG averageynlover stop shes so cute landonorris 🧐 ➥ judebellingham 🧐 ➥ charlesleclerc 🧐 ➥ alexalbon 🧐 ➥ jobebellingham 🧐 ➥ maxverstappen 🧐 ➥ lewishamilton 🧐 ➥ georgerussell 🧐 ➥ ynbellingham ihu rbrmylove why is the whole grid in her comments alexanderasaintmleux cuties ➥ ynbellingham youu lilymhe pretty girl ➥ ynbellingham 🪞🪞 ➥ lilymhe date me. ➥ ynbellingham ok! ➥ alexalbon what. carmenmundt ur so adorable ➥ ynbellingham says youu ➥ ynbellingham leave george ➥ carmenmundt ofcc ➥ georgerussell huh kellypiquet marry me ➥ ynbellingham bet wheres the ring ➥ maxverstappen 😕 rebeccadonaldson leave him plss ➥ ynbellingham anything for u bby ➥ carlossainz ??

ynbellingham

liked by oscarpiastri, judebellingham and 992,481 others thank you username on twitter for figuring it out view comments

judebellingham ew ➥ ynbellingham im telling mum ➥ judebellingham STOP jobebellingham 🤮 ➥ ynbellingham me when i see you landonorris stop being cute on main ➥ ynbellingham stop being annoying sabrinacarpenter no way a guy who goes vroom vroom in circles stole u from me ➥ ynbellingham barrykeoghan stole u first ➥ oscarpiastri my career is more than driving in circles ➥ barrykeoghan what did i do 😭 oliverbearman welcome to the family ➥ charlesleclerc hi daughter in law ➥ alexanderasaintmleux UR MY DAUGHTERRRR ➥ ynbellingham literally dating oscar for alex and leo ➥ oscarpiastri i see how it is lilymhe what if we do a double date except its u and me and them ➥ ynbellingham YESSS ➥ alexalbon what. ➥ oscarpiastri ^ gigihadid cuties kendalljenner adorable anokyai i love the both of u

oscarpiastri

liked by ynbellingham, nicolepiastri and 402,492 others she wrote an album for me you didnt view comments

user09 CONFIRMATION THAT ITS ABOUT HIM mclaren our favourite papaya couple 🧡 ➥ landonorris what happened to me and oscar ➥ mclaren 😶‍🌫️ f1wagsofficial cutest grid couple oliverbearman hes down bad ➥ oscarpiastri loud and proud liked by ynbellingham and 2089 others arthurleclerc invite her to family dinners now alexanderasaintmleux my daughter in law is so pretty ➥ ynbellingham aw ily alex alexalbon ok hes actually happy so i cant be mean ➥ alexalbon im also scared of yn ➥ ynbellingham good. jobebellingham pls tell me you have bad photos of her ➥ oscarpiastri i do (how much you willing to pay) ➥ jobebellingham thats great (200 bucks) ➥ ynbellingham OSCAR judebellingham couldve lived without seeing the 2nd pic ➥ ynbellingham couldve lived without seeing ur shirtless skims ad ➥ rbrmylove LMAO

a/n thank you for putting up with my mood swings in posting ly guys

[cuntyji]

the first video nanami ever posted was filmed on a shaky phone propped up against a bag of flour.

he was making bread—simple, easy, the kind of thing he found comfort in after long days at work. his hands moved methodically, kneading the dough with a quiet precision, and though he spoke very little, the video was oddly calming.

he hadn't expected much from it. maybe a few views, maybe a couple of people who’d appreciate the lack of unnecessary chatter. but the comments were overwhelmingly positive, people asking about his technique, his recipe, his voice—deep, smooth, effortlessly steady. so he made another video. then another.

it was the late-night upload of him singing "baby one more time" by the marías that changed everything.

filmed on an old macbook with a grainy webcam, the lighting barely enough to make out his face, the video had been an impulse decision—one he almost deleted. it was just him, sitting on his couch, his voice low and hushed, the way he usually sang to lull yuuji to sleep. but the internet clung to it like ivy, twisting and reaching until the video had over a million views by the end of the week.

"who is he." "why is this the most intimate thing i've ever heard in my life." "he looks exhausted and sounds like a dream, i'm in love."

he thought it would pass. but it didn't.

his subscribers doubled overnight. the demand for more was loud, insistent. nanami, being nanami, didn’t rush to meet it. instead, he structured it into his routine: one video a week, a mix of baking and singing—because baking was reliable, and singing had never been something he shared outside of yuuji’s bedtime.

his channel evolved. the baking videos became polished, edited with subtle precision. he switched to voiceovers, explaining each step in that same low, deliberate tone that made people feel like he was speaking just to them. and when he sang, it was always songs that carried a quiet sort of nostalgia.

"he only sings songs he sings to his kid to sleep i’m crying." "his lullabies are better than half the music industry." "i don’t know his name, his age, or his face properly, but i know his banana bread recipe by heart."

nanami never explicitly talked about being a single dad, but it was impossible to miss. yuuji’s voice sometimes made cameos in the background, muffled questions about homework, laughter when nanami burnt the edges of a cake. he didn’t hide it, didn’t play it up. it was just a part of his life, and his audience adored him for it.

his faq video—one of the few times he ever directly addressed personal questions—answered almost nothing.

"are you married?" "no." "how old are you?" "old enough." "what's your name?" "nanami."

the mystery only made people more obsessed.

"i know nothing about him but i’d die for him." "his hands. his voice. his existence." "the fact that he bakes and sings for his kid and still won’t tell us his age is crazy."

he now posted twice a week. one video was always baking, the other was whatever he wanted—sometimes music, sometimes a quiet q&a, sometimes just a video of him making tea while rain hit the windows.

people knew everything and nothing about him at the same time. they knew the exact ratio of brown sugar he preferred in cookies but not what city he lived in. they knew he tucked yuuji in every night with a song but had never seen his full face in a single frame. they knew the precise cadence of his voice when he said “and that’s how you make the perfect loaf” but had never heard him say “i love you”—and yet, somehow, they felt like they had.

the internet had fallen in love with him. and nanami, quietly, without even trying, had changed his life with nothing but flour-dusted hands and the sound of his own voice.

[delicatepointeofview]

Incomparable

fandom: Bridgerton

pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

summary: you don’t fit in quite well with the rest of the ton, but you still manage to catch the eye of the Viscount

note: this is for the girlies with resting bitch face, warning this is a fem!reader as much as i prefer a gender neutral reader, the heteronormative regency society just doesn’t allow it

this was already once posted before on my since deleted blog by my same current name but has been slightly edited :)

It was only one of the first balls of many and you were already regretting your unfortunate position as a newly presented flower of the season. You never thought you had what it took to be this year’s diamond, nor its ruby, nor its pearl, or any jewel for the matter. In your eyes you didn’t have the effortless glimmer that Daphne Bridgerton had last season nor the graceful steps of this season's ingénue, Edwina Sharma.

Of course, you had prepared all your life for this moment like every upper class girl. Knowing all that you should to be presented into society. You sat through the pianoforte lessons and even tried your hand at singing (which was a terrible mistake). You learned to embroider from your mother, much to the dismay of your aching fingers which always manage to burn and go numb far too quickly for her liking. You read all the textbooks even though you much preferred novels, never understanding the point of your tutors' comments about men wanting to marry educated girls. Quickly learning as you grew older and more outspoken that gentlemen like to know a woman is well read, but hardly ever that they use that knowledge in conversation.

But somehow, even after the painstakingly long hours at the modiste getting fitted for new dresses and the even longer time you spent getting into them, none of it was enough. Not the lessons, not the newly dropped hem, not the hours of sitting for your hair to be expertly styled and bejeweled by the finest gems your family had to offer. Still every other lady and her mama have had to comment on how you are so far from even the realm of possibly being considered a diamond. You heard their whispers through the silk and lace of their folding fans as clear as the night.

‘They barely graced the Queen with a smile,”

‘They’ll definitely grow to be a spinster with that face,’

Oh, but this wasn’t only from the women, of course not, they just have the decency to try and say this behind your back. You are well aware of how men love to grace you with their opinion, despite you caring very little for it. They always have the audacity to say these things straight to your somber face as if it would do you any good.

‘You know, you would be slightly prettier if you smiled,’

‘If you would smile, you would seem much more amiable,’

and most recently,

“I am sure more gentlemen would ask for a dance if you didn’t look so miserable, my Lady,”

You had been approached by a well-respected gentlemen named Mr. Hastings when you had escaped your mother’s disapproving clutches to find solace at the refreshments table. Drinking lemonade desperately wishing it were wine. He asked you to dance. Much to your misfortune you couldn’t fain a full dance card as the one clutched in your gloved hand was mockingly empty. This left you enduring a dreadfully boring conversation about his horse, how much it had cost him, how much it is actually worth, and just how incredible this horse was. You quite frankly wished to be anywhere else. As would anyone else you’re sure, but while they may have hid that behind a polite smile you showed your boredom evidently in your downturned lips.

But what would be the point in hiding it? You were tired of the facade that enwrapped these balls and society. Everyone was smiling, but was anyone truly happy? Even then who is happy and just goes around smiling like some loon. You were having a terrible time parading around the room with your mother’s stern grip on your arm showcasing you like a piece of meat, or a show pony— or to be terribly on the nose, Mr. Hastings prized horse.

Then once you had finally escaped her and found peace hoping to blend in to the wallpaper, you have been made to endure small talk and dance with a man you had little interest in. All while he made you listen to his horrendously dull conversation and he had the nerve to ask— no, to want you to not look miserable. This man who looked like molding swiss cheese and only spoke of his horse.

“I beg you pardon, sir?”

“That you look as if you are attending a funeral, my lady,” he says as he spins you following the choreography of the dance, “It is only polite that you smile as we dance.”

His own obviously fake smile is painted across his face, all thin lips and no teeth as he eyes you expectantly waiting for you to obediently heed his suggestion—or more likely it was a sort of social command. Polite society would have deemed you to be all smiles and perfect wit, to ease yourself out of this treacherous conversation you were wormed into with a poised grace or give in to his orders with a sickly sweet smile because it would be rude not to, no?

But no, indeed. You were not going to give in. No matter how many whispered or backhanded compliments you received only on your first night into society. You had seen how your female cousins and older friends had broken their backs to bend to the whims of society. Left behind forgotten ideals to suit their new suitors to get the ring and the wedding that would never even scratch at their fanciful girlish dreams of prince charmings and knights in shining armor. You would not let society break you.

“Well, I would smile if I was having a nice time. Maybe if you said something funny I would laugh or if the conversation was pleasant,” you had stopped dancing now, tired of this day and all the niceties and manners you were to follow.

You stood before him with your jaw clenched and your brows furrowed absolutely seething, “But you are far from pleasant. All you do, sir, is speak of your race horse and how much it is worth to you. If you care so much about your horse, I wonder why you ever wish to marry when all your attention seems to be going to your insipid horse!”

“Why you rude, intolerable girl—”

You didn’t care any more about the staring eyes of the ton or the gasps from appalled mamas. You would have welcomed all of Mr. Hastings angry words to at least hear something real for the first time all day. But instead he is cut short as the figure of a man approaches your side.

“I beg your pardon Mr. Hastings. How dare you raise your voice to a lady, have you no honor or decorum?”

Viscount Anthony Bridgerton stood before the two of you. Chin tilted upwards and shoulders set back in an unspoken challenge with the less titled man in front of you.

His question goes unanswered, but he continues nodding to you, “I believe the Lady makes a very agreeable point, sir. You speak entirely of your horse and nothing else, this would bore any with a brain in the ton.”

You almost would have laughed if you weren’t so shocked. What exactly was the Viscount doing? You hardly ever spoke other than short introductions and nods exchanged while you were in the company of his sister and your friend, Eloise.

But there was not a moment to think on this further as the scene that was forming around you was all too captivating. Mr. Hastings, who it should be mentioned once more felt so prideful of his horse, can be seen visibly shrinking shoulder hunching forward slumping as if he were a little boy who lost a game. He clears his throat, “Well then, I shall take my conversation elsewhere.”

Before he could turn to leave the eldest Bridgerton son stops him, “Sir, you have forgotten to apologize to the Lady,”

Mr. Hasting freezes in his place turning to eye the man and you bite your lip fighting the laugh that threatens to erupt at the odious man whose eyes widen and mouth becomes agape like a fish out of water.

“My apologies,” the words seem to clog at his throat and so he says nothing else. Nodding, “Lord Bridgerton...” and your name before meekly making his way through the crowd, his head down avoiding the gazes of the onlookers.

At this point most of the ton had gone back to their conversations around you, though there were still some lingering eyes as the dance floor had been oddly shaped as you and the Viscount remained standing in part of the appointed area. Anthony notices this and leads you further into the crowd.

Once he finds an agreeable spot he stops turning towards you, “I actually do wish to counter your statement, my lady,” he begins. You expect for a moment to be met with some stern lecture from a man who seems to think he’s entitled to an opinion of you as if he were your father (who you also do not think should have an opinion, but alas it is only 1814). Anthony surprises you however as instead he grins and says, “I actually believe Mr. Hastings would marry his horse if the Queen would allow it.”

And you couldn’t help but laugh, despite all your pride and pettiness to not grace this event or anyone in it with any pleasurable countenance. You laughed loudly tilting your head back, jeweled neck on display even letting out a small snort against your will. When you finally compose yourself, giggles dying down at the thought of Mr. Hastings in a horrid muddy green suit with a horse in a wedding dress, you can’t fight the smile that falls on your lips. Although unnatural to you, the light hearted joke and your vivid imagination make it easy. It lasts for a few seconds before you become very conscious of it as you let your lips fall back to their usual place.

Though if anyone was truly looking for it— which Anthony was— they would see the slight quirk in your lips as you told the Viscount, “It looks like you’ve gained the honor of making me laugh, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“I relish the title, my lady,” he says and you can tell he does from the smile that meets his ears, all teeth and pushed back cheeks. You acknowledge that this might be the realest encounter you have had since your debut. Anthony Bridgerton smiling from ear to ear was a sight to see.

He continues, “But I do have to disagree with the comments I have been hearing tonight. Smile or no smile you present the ladies looking to wed this season with quite the competition.”

“Me? Hardly, did you not hear my Lord, my countenance would never get me a marriage proposal,” you say fiddling with the hem of your gloves at your wrist.

“I would disagree, I think any reasonable man in attendance would be foolish to not see how incomparable you are, my lady.”

Incomparable.

You fight it like you had once your laugh, but you feel the heat spread to your cheeks and the nerves that begin to twist in your stomach. You didn’t need it, but the compliment was well appreciated after a night such as this one.

Giving you no time to compose the fluttering in your chest, Anthony adds, “Any lady who manages to be bold enough to tell Mr. Hasting how insufferable his horse talk is, ranks high in my book.”

“Well you might be the only one, sir,” you try to be as brave as you feel and dare to smile at him, but his gaze causes you to look away bashfully. That is when you notice your mother approaching and wishing not to make a fool in front of the Viscount you excuse yourself, “I do believe my mother has just been informed of the scene I have caused, so if you’ll excuse me.”

But before you can turn to go he calls out your name placing his warm bare hand on your own gloved fingers making you turn back to him.

“Would you save me a dance?”

And despite yourself, Anthony Bridgerton manages again to make you smile, “Of course”.

[g4rvez-r3id]

Anything for Ellie

Spencer Reid x Single Mom!Reader

Synopsis: Your daughter, Ellie’s birthday is coming up and you plan on baking a cake for her. But when you accidentally break the eggs you just bought, your handsome neighbor, Spencer comes to your rescue.

Category: Fluff

Warnings: post prison! spencer, pictures above don’t indicate how reader is supposed to look! reader’s ex is a piece of shit, spencer lowkey being a dad, mentions of cheating and divorce, reader’s daughter being kind of a wingwoman, mentions of the prison arc but they’re brief, (spencer’s been gone for three months and reader has no idea why), mutual pining, reader’s daughter having an absent father, minor angst, a minor mention of maeve, baking- i think that covers it 🤷‍♀️

Author’s Note: hey lovelies! i’m a sucker for single mom!reader x spencer reid so here it is! will most likely make a part two <3

part one

“Mommy, can I help?” Your almost-five year-old, Ellie begged, reaching her arms up to grab anything you’d been holding. You both had gone to the store and were now coming up the stairs back to your apartment after getting what you needed.

Ellie was turning five in a few days here and had wanted a big birthday party with all of her friends in your apartment. You’d wanted to go all out for your little one, wanting her to have the best birthday party ever.

It’d only been a year since you and your ex had signed divorce papers. While you were married, he was off screwing his assistant at the banking firm he worked in. And you’d caught them in the act, on your bed. You were devastated to say the least. But in a way, it felt like a relief.

Let’s just say, you weren’t happy in your marriage. Your ex wasn’t very helpful when it came to your marriage. He’d nitpick every single thing that made you you, called you a hot mess every now and again and was never appreciative of anything you did for him. And another thing — he was a good dad, just not a very present one. Ever since she was born, it seemed like he wasn’t interested in the parenthood. He’d let down Ellie over a gazillion times and you weren’t sure he’d be able to keep his promise about showing up for her birthday party. There was always something more important and that wasn’t fair to you or to Ellie.

So, you did what you could, scraped up money you had saved and got an apartment in D.C., you’d rather be happy homeless than co-exist with him further. You’d luckily found a quaint apartment, two bedrooms and even managed to snag a bakery job with the help of your friends. Things were turning up for you and for Ellie.

“Here, why don’t you grab this bag?” You say, handing her a paper bag of the plastic cups, plates, napkins and utensils since it was probably the one thing you could trust her to hold.

Ellie had been singing a song, about how she was turning five and she kept reminding you that her birthday was in a few days and how excited she was. You loved that she’d been excited for it. You remembered the day she was born vividly. You were in labor for fourteen hours with no help from your ex, since he was asleep the majority of Ellie’s birth but every minute was worth it to have a little you by your side. You were lucky enough that Ellie was blessed with your genes and had soon enough become your little twin.

You made your way to the door, trying to reach for your keys in your pocket but the paper bags were in your way and you didn’t want to drop one of the bags since it had the eggs you were going to use to bake Ellie’s cake and you didn’t want to break them. You groan as you try to reach in your pocket without trying to drop the bags but your hand slips and down goes the paper bag with the eggs and you wince as you hear the eggs crack.

“Oh, no.” You sigh as you bend down pick up the mess. You’d have to hold off on baking Ellie’s cake tomorrow night, the day before the party. You’d been a bit of a perfectionist and just wanted to bake the cake a few days before.

You nearly thought about crying in front of your soon-to-be five year-old over cracked eggs when a shadow stood over you and your daughter. “Hi, Mr. Spencer!” Your daughter greeted your next door neighbor with a wave and you looked up and did a double-take as you saw the tall lanky man stand over you. He was wearing a brown sweater, black slacks and converse, holding his mail in his hands. But to be honest, he looked a little different. Hence, the double-take.

“Hi, Ellie! Everything okay over here?” Spencer asked as he kneels down to help you clean the mess you made. Ellie answers for you, “No, my mommy broke the eggs.”

You look up at Spencer. “Hi, Spencer. We’re all good here,” You manage to say as you scrape up the bag. “I’m just…” You throw your arms around. “As you know, a bit of a klutz.” You look over at your daughter. “Looks like we’re gonna have to bake the cake tomorrow night, Ellie.”

You stand up and Spencer and you’re still shocked at the fact that even standing, he’s still taller than you. His hair was wild with chocolate locks, with warm yet tired brown eyes and stubble growing on his face. He was always gorgeous.

It’d been a while since you’d seen Spencer, living next door to him for over a year now. For about three months, he’d completely disappeared and you almost wondered if maybe he moved but standing in front of you, clearly he didn’t.

You manage to grab your keys out of your pocket while holding the bags but Spencer had come to your rescue and managed to grab both of the bags from your arms and you unlock the front door, Ellie running inside, to mess around no less. You turn back to your neighbor and give him a small yet appreciative smile as you take your bags back from his hands. “Thank you, Spencer.”

“No problem.” The man says. You look at him and squint your eyes and Spencer gives you a confused look. “Sorry, I don’t mean to stare, it’s just… it’s been a while. You look a little… different.” You admit and his face falters for a moment. “It’s a good different, I promise you.”

Your downstairs neighbor, Rita — a seventy year-old woman who lived alone with a dozen cats — had a theory that Spencer may have been abducted by aliens. Granted, she was a senile old lady that watched too many UFO shows but it made you wonder why he disappeared for a minute. You knew he was an FBI agent, his job must’ve been too demanding because you’d hadn’t seen him until now.

“So, where have you been? Ellie and I have missed you.” You smile and Spencer opens his mouth and it looks like there are gears running through his head and he shrugs, “Oh, just… a vacation. Of sorts.”

A vacation, of sorts. Huh. You start to wonder if maybe Rita is right about an alien abduction. You nod, not knowing how to respond to that and luckily, your daughter is a good icebreaker because she comes rushing back to the front door where you are talking with Spencer. “Spencer! I’m turning five in this many days!” She tells him, holding three fingers up.

“Oh, wow!” Spencer bends down to her level. “You doing anything special for your birthday, Ellie?” Ellie nods once more, “Yes! We’re having a big birthday party for me and I’m gonna get a lot of presents and cake!” This then causes your daughter to turn to you. “Mommy, can’t we bake the cake, now?” Ellie begs, beaming her signature puppy eyes that make you say ‘yes’ to anything for her.

“I’m sorry, babe, I broke the eggs so we’re gonna have to wait until tomorrow when I can go to the store to get eggs to bake the cake, okay?” You ask, running a hand through her hair and she looks down in sadness. The last thing you wanted was to make her sad.

“Uh, actually,” Spencer speaks up. “I have eggs, if you’d like to have them to bake your cake.” He offers and you shake your head, surprised he offered. “Oh, thank you for the kind offer, but it’s alright.”

“No, take them,” Spencer insists. “I don’t need them and if I use them, they’re not going to be good anyways, since I can’t really cook anything.” He chuckles to himself but you still have hesitation written on your face. Spencer sees it, tilting his head to meet your eyes and pushes — “I insist.”

He always knew what to say, how to fix the issue. The first time you met, you had gone over to his apartment to ask if he had any juice since it was the only thing Ellie wanted to drink when she was sick and you’d just run out. Luckily, Spencer had had juice and formally introduced himself to you. Since that day, he never forgot you. He never forgot the way your hair was sticking out of your messy bun, that you were wearing a pastel pink robe and mismatched socks, like he did often. It was then that he wanted to get to know you. Luckily, you baked him cookies as a token of your gratitude the next day and the rest was history.

“Take the eggs, Mama! Take the eggs!” Ellie begs as she bounces, grabbing you by your arm and you finally give in, “Okay, I’ll definitely pay you back for the eggs. I do appreciate this a lot, Spencer.” You tell and he nods, “Hey, what are neighbors for? I’ll go get those for you, right now.”

Spencer heads back to his apartment as you and Ellie make your way inside of yours and you place your bags on the counter and take a breather. Spencer is gone for at least ten to fifteen seconds before showing back up with the eggs, like he said he would get for you.

“Here you are.” He says, handing the carton to you. “You really didn’t have to do this, Spencer. Your generosity…” You trail off but he shakes his head, “It’s really no problem. Just as long as you have me with a cup of sugar.” He jokes and you laugh along with him.

Suddenly, Ellie appears behind you and looks at your neighbor and asks, “Spencer, will you help me and my mom bake my birthday cake?” You look down at your daughter. Her spark and confidence was something you definitely didn’t pass down onto her.

Spencer responds with nothing except wide eyes and an open mouth. You’re quick to jump in and speak for him. “Spencer probably has other things to attend to, Ellie.” You look back at him. “You definitely don’t have to.”

“Please, Spencer! Please!” Ellie begs with puppy eyes and you look at him and joke — “Don’t fall for her puppy eyes. She gets away with a lot around here because of them.” Spencer chuckles and looks at you, “Uh, if it’s okay with you. I really don’t mind staying.”

You raise your brows, “You don’t?” Spencer shakes his head, “Yeah, why not spend my time with a four-year-old princess and her beautiful mother?” He jokes and you will your cheeks not to turn a shade of crimson at the beautiful comment. Him thinking you were beautiful made your stomach churn and your heart skip a beat.

You stared at him. There was something in his eyes that was tired and sad, like he needed this. He was never like that, usually his eyes lit up and to some degree they did, but you worried for him silently, especially since he sort of dodged the question about you asking where he was. You decide for him to stay, to which Ellie excitedly grabs him by his hands.

“Come on!” Ellie drags Spencer as she pulls him towards the kitchen and he lets her. “El, what do we do before we start baking?” You ask her. “Wash our hands!” Ellie says and grabs a chair to stand over the sink as you put soap into her hands and you look at Spencer as he makes his way over to the sink and put soap into his hands as well and you do the same.

Ellie grabs her apron that you bought her for baking so she doesn’t get it all over her clothes and you put on your baking apron and you all soon begin.

You put the ingredients together, consisting of sugar, flour, cocoa powder, baking powder and baking soda and you let Ellie do the mixing as you begin to work on the frosting.

“Mr. Spencer?” Ellie asks the man standing next to you as you work your magic. “Yes, Ellie?” Spencer asks, dividing his attention to her. “Where were you?” You turn to your daughter, wondering where that came from. But with her nosy nature, you aren’t very surprised by the question.

“Uh, I was working, Ellie. You remember my job.” Spencer speaks softly to her, reminding her. “Right, you’re a spy.” Ellie says as she continues to mix. “I am a spy, yeah.” Spencer chuckles a bit as he replies.

He is quick to then change the subject before Ellie can ask anymore questions. “Let me ask you this, Ellie, do you want to see a magic trick?” He did this often when Ellie needed focus her attention on something else, it helped stimulate her brain, Spencer claimed when he did it the first time he’d ever witness her have a meltdown.

“Oh, Ellie, you love magic.” You comment. Ellie had a moment where all she was into was cartoons and she’d recently just watched Strange Magic and had fallen in love with the concept of fairytales and such. In fact, the party was fairy-themed, wanting her friends to dress up as fairies.

“Would you like to see a magic trick?” Spencer asks and Ellie nods vehemently and Spencer looks around and finds a piece of paper and looks around for a pen, which he finds on your counter and shows Ellie the items. “Now, watch the pen.”

He quickly stabs the pen through the paper, making Ellie gasp and the pointer side of the pen is on the other side of the paper and Spencer tilts and pulls the pen from the paper and the pen isn’t broken and the paper doesn’t even have a dent in it.

“Wow!” Ellie exclaims. “How did you do that?” Spencer shakes his head, “A magician never reveals his secrets.”

Your heart skips a beat as Spencer treats your daughter like she’s his own, almost. Your ex wasn’t good with kids, which was probably why he didn’t bother having a good relationship with Ellie. But Spencer, since the day you met, seemed to always have an affinity with kids. He loved watching over Ellie and he was so caring and trustworthy. You’d almost wished Spencer was Ellie’s father instead, considering her biological one wasn’t very present in her life.

“You done mixing the powder there, kiddo?” You ask, taking those thoughts out of your head and she nods, “Yes, Mama.”

“Alrighty, wanna help me whisk the frosting?” It was Ellie’s favorite part after all. “Spencer, do you like chocolate cake?” Ellie asked as she made her way over to you and you sat her on the counter. “I do. My favorite donuts are actually chocolate with rainbow sprinkles.” Ellie beams with excitement at that, “That’s my favorite, too!”

After a while, you finally finish baking the cake yourself since Ellie seems so cooped up on Spencer and showing him her room upgrade since she recently wanted to fill the walls with posters, and she wanted to show him her new toys and she had him show magic tricks to her.

Eventually, Ellie grows tired and winds up falling asleep on the couch. As you tuck her into bed, you find Spencer cleaning up your kitchen and you smile to yourself. He was always such a neat freak, perhaps you liked that about him. “You don’t have to do that.” You say, making your presence known and the man turns to you with a shrug. “I don’t mind.”

You begin to help as you wipe down your counter. It’s quiet for a moment before you speak again. “You, uh, you were wonderful with Ellie today. You sure you don’t have any kids?” You joke.

Spencer shakes his head with a sly chuckle, “No, I don’t.” You raise your brows, still messing with him. “Oh, yeah, no, I do have a few godsons, though. Henry and Michael. And then, my old colleague’s friend named his son after me. I guess you could say I’m just good with kids.” He tells and you smile.

“You’re a natural at it.” You compliment as you throw away the paper towels you used to clean your counter.

You think to yourself as you guys go quiet once more. And then you decide to carry on the conversation with a question Ellie wanted you to ask Spencer. “Oh, uh, when I was putting Ellie to bed, she wanted me to ask you if maybe you’d like to attend her birthday party this Saturday. You totally don’t have to come, but she wanted me to ask anyways.”

Spencer ponders this for a moment, “Work depending, sure, I’d love to.” He narrows his eyes for a second. “Something tells me she’ll always do the ruling around here.” He jokes and it makes you chuckle. “Yeah, yeah, that’s kind of how it is.”

There’s a moment as the two of you pause and he stares at you with a wondering look. You seem to be gazing back at him. To be honest, Spencer had had a crush on you since the day you came to his door asking for juice.

Of course, before then, they’d lived next door for a while and Ellie was pretty loud behind those thin walls since she was a kid and you most likely encouraged her to be playful and there were times when it was quiet in his apartment and all he could hear was your laughter and hers. And he wondered who was on the other side of that wall. He hadn’t experienced a childhood such as Ellie’s and he was left wondering if he’d ever be able to have something like that. And wondered what it was like for Ellie to have such a wonderful mother.

“How are things… with you?” Spencer asks and you shrug, “Same old, same old. Ellie has been a riot. I swear, she’s into something new everyday.” Spencer pauses you for a second. “Y/n,” He spoke. “I asked how you were doing.”

Your breath catches in your throat and you swallow the lump that has formed. You’d never been used to getting asked that question. You often deflected, talking about Ellie since she was your pride and joy. Spencer had profiled you — knowing he probably shouldn’t have — and had theorized that you only talked about Ellie just to not talk about yourself. It often stemmed from a fear of judgment or vulnerability, he knew. He knew why it was like that for you, not having a very present ex that could care less about you and your daughter and only striving to be strong for Ellie. He wished he could take your pain away, especially after learning your story.

“I’m…” You think for a moment. How were you doing? Truly? “I’m okay, I guess. I’ve just been… stressed. But who isn’t?” You shrug. “I’m a single mom, working at a bakery 24/7 and when she has her days off, she spends them with her kid.” You tell.

This leads to Spencer’s next question. “Will, uh,” Spencer clears his throat. “Will Ellie’s dad be making an appearance at this party?” You sigh, rubbing your temples, something you did often before talking about your ex. “He promised he’ll try but that’s code for ‘maybe not’.”

Spencer frowns and you shake your head, “I just wish he could be a good dad for once. Show up on time, be there for his kid. No matter what happened between us, I still want Ellie to have her dad around. Just the other day, she was asking if she even had one.” The thought made Spencer upset and even brought you back to tears again, when you thought about the day that she asked.

“Well, if you ask me, he’s missing out.” Spencer told and you could tell it was genuine. “On you and Ellie.” You give him a small smile, he always seemed to know what to say to make you feel better. It was Spencer’s specialty, being your personal therapist and trying to make you feel better in every way, shape or form.

You look at him. You wonder what he’s been through, where he’s been. It seems like his thoughts are misplaced, seem to be elsewhere. His eyes are hiding something and he’s keeping his guard up. And with this new look, this rough side of things, you wonder if he barely made it out alive.

“Spencer?” You ask and he hums, looking at you. “You’ve been gone for three months.” You say and he looks down at his hands. “Were you like… undercover or something?” He rubs his hands on his pants and he’s looking anywhere but you, now.

“Would it be alright if… maybe we didn’t talk about it?” Spencer asks and you nod, “Yeah, yeah, totally. I get it.” And you did, there were things about you that you were hiding from Spencer, too. “I’ll tell you eventually, it’s just… it’s still fresh.” He admitted. You nodded, “Of course.” You’d been patient and you’d wait until he was comfortable and ready to tell you where he was for those three months.

“Uh, I should— I should go.” Spencer tells, standing fully and beginning to walk towards your door before looking back at you. “Does Ellie still like princesses? I want to get her a gift.” He tells and you nod, “She’s into fairies now, but she’ll love anything you get her. You totally don’t need to get her anything, by the way.”

“Nonsense,” Spencer shakes his head. “What time is the party on Saturday?”

“At two.” You smile. “I will hopefully be there.” Spencer says.

He opens your door, you following behind as you watch him go out into the hall. “Thanks for letting us use your eggs.” You say, handing him back the carton of eggs. He’d only had about two left now. “It’s no problem. Anything for Ellie, right?” You nod in agreement, “Anything for Ellie.”

You both exchange your goodbyes and Spencer goes back to his apartment and you shut your door. You smile to yourself as you get ready to settle down and relax.

You think of Spencer as you do so. Since the year you’ve lived here, you may have harbored a crush on the man. And why wouldn’t you fall for him? Spencer was such a good guy. He was trustworthy, he was more of a dad to Ellie than her own father was. But you knew better. Spencer had known your baggage, how could he be attracted to you? A single mother, who could barely pay her rent. As much as you wanted to be loved — the way you deserved to be — that was just never gonna happen. And that was the way it was gonna have to be, unfortunately. You’d rather have him as a friend than ever blow it with him.

But little did you know, Spencer was other side of the walls, thinking about you. He’d always had a thing for you. You were so caring and kind and wonderful. Not to mention your little girl, who had so easily won Spencer’s heart with her charm. Why wouldn’t he like you? But he knew what it would lead to. After Maeve, he pretty much believed he wasn’t capable of love again. You proved him wrong. But after him being gone for three months — due to him being at Milburn Correctional Facility, being framed for a crime he didn’t commit — he supposed that would be too much to put on you. And he didn’t want you carrying that his baggage when it was already so heavy.

If only you two knew what the other was thinking.

[eddiesghxst]

BENEATH THE BLADE - part one

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: swordsman!eddie x noble!reader

summary: with your father on the brink of war he finds himself in need of a bigger army, and the only person capable of helping is none other than eddie munson, the lord of death, but the only way to achieve his loyalty is through marriage.

contains: enemies to lovers trope, marriage of convenience, alcohol use, themes of misogyny/sexism, SMUT - 18+, mentions of bedding ceremony tradition, loss of virginity, oral (f receiving), p in v (unprotected — stay safe pls), hint of breeding kink, tiny bit of blasphemy, mentions of domestic violence (brief), mentions of death, mentions of blood/gore/violence, asshole!eddie, and eddie being dark and hot <3

word count: 12.5k

| next part |

| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

Eddie is handsome.

Charming in a soft light, you’d say— at least when he’s not covered in dirt and the blood of his enemies— his features are vivid this way, sharp yet kind, free of the anger that you’ve known to follow him in tow.

When he arrived, he was a sight to see— a jarring one.

Mud and filth caked over his body; blood smeared down his face to match the blade of his sword, soiled hair tied back and dripping with a liquid you’re not sure you would even want to know the name of. He was walking death. Cold eyes and a honed fleet to match. When his lips cracked to form a grin, you had accepted that nothing could be worse than marrying the very walking doom of the earth.

You hated it. You think you hate him.

Your wedding caused quite the commotion amongst the city of RedGate— travelers from the opposite side of the world came just to see you be wed today, the biggest day of your life, yet you’re struggling to find the joy in it.

When you were little, your mother would tell you stories of how one day you’d be married off to a prince, a handsome one with a gorgeous smile and all the gold in the world to make you happy, and somehow you ended up with the complete opposite.

Still, even if this marriage is the least adhered to your liking, you don’t have a choice. It’s your duty. Your promise to the people of RedGate.

A marriage of convenience, your father told you.

You have the money, and he has the men.

In the eyes of the storyteller, it’s a match made in heaven. You see anything but.

Because the truth is, you don’t know him— Eddie— and he is now your husband.

Despite the circumstances, Eddie seems to be having a grand time. Beside you, fresh in his sharpest clothes and finest jewelry, he sips on his nth glass of wine, loudly laughing at the room's commotion before you. They’ve been entertaining you for hours now. Hours of singing, dancing, and jesting all to appease you, yet you haven’t cracked a single smile.

Eddie sees it. He glances at you and smiles to himself, dark eyes shimmering beneath golden light as he finishes his chalice. He raises the cup, a silent order for more, and you swallow hard, wary of what’s to come with a drunk husband on the first night.

You’ve heard the stories women tell of their first night. You’ve heard the horrors of the pain and dread their men put them through, and it’s sure to say that wine doesn’t help the case— it never does. 

As you prepare for the doom of your evening (assuming it’s yet to happen), you hardly notice the cup-bearer filling your husband's chalice to the brim. You expect Eddie to begin sipping on the fine wine, but you’re proven wrong when the cup is brought down and held steady in front of you.

You look at the cup, shiny gold with twinkling jewels embedded in the sides, rich red sloshing up the walls, spilling over the edges, and snaking around his bruised knuckles. You drag your gaze up the arm holding the cup, decorated fingers, and storytelling ink on the skin that belongs to him. Eddie quirks up an eyebrow, watching you with such precision that it makes your blood run cold.

“A lady doesn’t drink.” You say.

Eddie grins, light dancing in his eyes as he says, “No? How come?”

You straighten in your chair, dragging in a slow breath as you tip your chin up, “It is not of a lady’s nature to drink such poison.”

Eddie’s face stretches in amusement, “Poison?” He hums. He retracts the cup, bringing it to his lips, but he waits as he adds, “You have never drank wine, then?” He snickers. The boom of the crowd seems to drown out as you glare at your husband, watching as he takes a sip, playful humor still painted across his face. You find nothing funny.

“Wine distorts the mind.”

Eddie sighs, loud and heavy, as he shifts in his chair, turning to look out into the crowd, “Wine tastes good, princess. You’re too rich to deprive yourself of such luxury.”

“Dull thinking is a luxury?” You question.

You’re testing the waters. Asking the questions that will ultimately let you know just what kind of a man your husband is— as if the stench of death from earlier wasn’t enough.

“It is when you’ve seen the things I’ve seen.” He responds.

You assume he means the sight of his enemy's severed heads. The sea of bodies and blood he’s sailed upon. All of which are his doing. You can’t find it in yourself to be sympathetic to him, no matter how hard you try.

Eddie sighs again, sinking into his seat as he taps a ring against the gold cup, “You know, wine might make it better for you.”

Your eyebrows furrow at his words, confusion etched in your voice when you look at him with a tip of your head, “What?”

Eddie speaks with a grin around the rim of his chalice, eyes dancing across the dining hall as he says, “Wine makes it better,” he repeats, his eyes finally landing on you as he adds, “Numbs the pain for your cute little cunt.” 

You’re stunned by his words, disgusted and shocked by such crass words as he casually sips his wine. “Have you no manners?” You stress.

Eddie doesn’t respond; he ignores you as he studies you. He adds, “You’re a tiny little thing. I reckon you would have your fill within less than a cup.” You open your mouth to respond, maybe throw some choice words his way, but he beats you to it, “I’m quite big, you know? I’m sure you have heard the stories. You’ll be smart to prepare for it.” He shifts in his seat, hips tilting up just enough to tell you what he’s talking about.

“I will do no such thing.” You quip.

Eddie shrugs with a snicker and a smack of his lips, speaking against the cup as he eyes you, “I’ll go slow then.” He says with a wink.

A cold shiver runs down your spine, an echoing bang of doom resounding in the walls of your skull as his words sink in. It doesn’t help any better when the infamous bedding ceremony music starts up, the men in the room cheering along to the song as they begin making their way to you.

Your nails dig into the palms of your hands, blood sure to rise as your heart races. The bedding ceremony, while for your guests means the nearing end of the celebration, only represents the beginning of the end for you. Your night has only just begun.

The men will carry you away, grab at your clothes, and cheer as they lead you to your bed chambers, and Eddie will soon follow suit with women grappling at his clothes as well, preparing you both for what’s to come behind closed doors.

If you’re lucky, the men will grant you the decency of keeping your chemise on. But even still, that will soon come off as well. You won’t win either way.

Eddie leans in, the sour stench of alcohol seeping from him as he speaks, “Looks like it’s time, princess,” he teases, a white smirk haunting you before you’re hauled up from your seat, a yelp leaving your lips as the men lift you above their heads.

Rough hands and drunken fingers prod at every inch of your body, a song you’ve heard many times before wafting through the air— you still don’t find the joy in it. You always thought the bedding ceremony was a bit unfair. The women were never as ruthless to the groom as the men were to the bride. You’ve seen more than you’d like to admit— and you never wanted to be on the performing side, yet here you are.

You catch sight of Eddie as the dining hall doors open to carry you away. You see the heavy gaze of his eyes on you, an unspoken threat to the men carrying you lingering through the air— harm her, and it’ll be the last thing you do. 

You’d be a fool to think he cared.

Cheerful singing booms down the halls as they tear off pieces of your gown and corset, leaving a trail of innocence through the castle. It’s not long before you’re tossed onto the bed of your chambers, white chemise still covering you, the men still cheering as they leave you alone in the vast room, echoes of the celebration playing harmony to your racing thoughts.

You scramble up from your bed the second the doors close, reaching out for the thin robe that rests on a chair across the room. You pace for what seems like hours, talking yourself down in preparation for what’s to come. To aid you in preparation, you find yourself sitting at your vanity, candlelight illuminating the mirror so you can see as you freshen up— because although you’re not exactly excited, you still (annoyingly so) want to look appeasing for Eddie. You want to fulfill his desires. You will be a failed wife if you don’t.

You find yourself growing worried when time grows longer with no sign of Eddie, and the sounds of the celebration seem to be dying down. You can’t imagine where he’s gone. Maybe he wanted to drink more. Maybe he doesn’t want you— you’re unsure if that hurts or relieves your ego.

Before you can decide to leave and look for him, the heavy doors to your chambers slide open, light seeping into the dim room as your husband steps in. You catch his eye through the mirror before facing him, standing from the worn bench and clenching your fists as you ask, “Where have you been?”

Eddie, ever the dark looming tower he is, steps further into the room, steps echoing in the silence. He’s fully dressed, not a piece of attire missing from his frame, so you suppose the women didn’t drag him here like the men did you. Had something wrong happened?

“Miss me already, wife?”

You grimace, rolling your eyes as you turn back to your vanity, “Hardly so.” You mutter.

A few moments of silence pass before Eddie speaks, “I had a conversation with your lady-in-waiting.”

Your face twists in confusion, chills dancing up your arms at the breeze that blows in through your open balcony doors. “Robin?” You question.

With his back turned to you from across the room, Eddie removes his cloak, draping it across the couch in front of the fireplace. He doesn’t look at you as he walks around the furniture, responding with a smooth voice, “If that is her name, then yes.”

He sits, busying himself with unbuttoning the chest of his shirt.

“Why?” You ask.

It’s not usual for men to speak with the ladies in waiting. There is nothing for them to discuss, really. But Eddie surprises you when he responds, voice steady yet still indirect towards you, “I wanted to know you.”

Suddenly, you find yourself making a journey across the room to stand before Eddie. The light that the candles cast upon Eddie is beautiful, and his eyes glow when they lift to gaze upon you, fingers still busy with buttons and strings. He is handsome and dark, and he is now yours.

“You kept me waiting.”

“And I am sorry.” He admits.

You don’t know why, but you’re left speechless by the apology that rolls off his tongue. From the stories, Eddie is not one to apologize for much of anything, and you expect he would carry the same traits as a husband. Apparently not.

Eddie stands then, tall and broad in nature— intimidating to most, but his eyes are soft and sincere as he looks down at you. You find your feet stuck where you stand, expecting him to reach and touch you, to initiate the big finale, but he never does.

“I want to apologize for my behavior at the feast,” He begins, “That was no way to speak to a lady, let alone my wife. May you forgive me as I am only now learning to be a husband.”

The Eddie before you now is a different Eddie than you had seen at the dining table. Where he had once looked upon you with lustful and roguish eyes, he now looks at you with sincerity. A softness you would’ve never thought could come from a man like him.

“What did she tell you?” You ask.

His mouth twitches, and if you’re not mistaken, you might’ve thought he wanted to smile.

“She told me you like to garden.” He says. “Your favorite flower is the Middlemist Red. You spend a pretty penny each season to import them from Cathay.”

You smile with your eyes, lips pressed into a line, shying away when he finally cracks and lets his lips tip upon the sight of you. “I do. They are beautiful.” You respond.

Eddie nods once, “You will have to show me, then.”

You nod silently. And Eddie doesn’t seem to want to take the initiative, so you take the first step, reaching forward with shaky hands to finish the buttons of his shirt.

You’re too focused on the task; you don’t notice how Eddie looks at you until his warm hands cover yours. His hands are rough and calloused from days of fighting and hours of work, and you don’t know whether the bumps on your skin rise from his touch or the breeze. 

Dark pools of swirling mud sear into you, so kind around the edges that it makes your breath hitch in your throat. Eddie squeezes your hands in his palms, no sense of insincerity as he untangles your fingers from his shirt and says, “Not tonight.”

And for some reason, your heart drops.

You blink at him, confusion flashing across your face for a split second before you mask it. “You do not want to?” You ask, a tremble of worry you so desperately want to bat away dancing around the edges

Eddie’s thumbs drag over the bumps of your knuckles, “You mistake my words.” He says, “I… I do, but I can’t. I won’t.” He shakes his head.

You frown, a feeling of rejection looming over your head as you look at your husband. “Why?” You ask.

He relaxes, shoulders weighed down with the earth as his thumbs drag to press into your palms. Soothing and grounding, yet overwhelming for the moment.

“You’re shaking, my love.” He points out.

Your gaze drops to your hands, heart racing as you realize— yes, you are shaking. Visibly so.

You shake your head, eyebrows furrowing as you reply, “It is only excitement.”

You’re not sure why you’re doing this. You would’ve leaped for joy an hour ago had Eddie turned you away, yet you can’t help but find yourself fighting for him to say yes. A part of you doesn’t want to be seen as a failure in the eyes of your counsel if they find out you couldn’t consummate your marriage. And another part of you— a very small yet loud part of you— just… wants him.

He is handsome; that part was never a lie, even in the stories. It isn’t hard to feel different forms of frustration when it comes to him. And well, you’d be lying if you said you’re not curious to find out what it feels like.

Eddie laughs softly, gently dropping your hands before turning away and grabbing his cloak, “I know when a lady is excited, my lady.” He admits. You hate the green serpent of jealousy that hisses in your chest.

You ignore the unwelcome feeling when he turns back to you, eyes still profound as they fall upon you, “And I also know when someone is scared.” He lowly says.

“I won’t have you when you are afraid of me.”

You gaze up at him, fingers curling around the long sleeves of your robe as you gather your strength. “I am not afraid of you.” And you’re not. You’re more so… reluctant of him— unsure of the extent of his morality in the throes of power. But standing before you, you can see he has no intentions to hurt you.

He looks at you as if he’s studying you. Pretty, dark lashes fluttering beneath the movement of his eyes, and you think you see the grip on his cloak tighten for a moment. “You deserve better for your first, princess. Someone soft. Someone whose hands haven’t touched the face of death.”

And he’s right. His reasoning is so right it may be wrong, and you begin to feel sorry for thinking so ill of him at the start of the night. He is trying now, and that is already more than what most receive. 

How much of it is true?

You don’t think much before reaching out and curling your fingers into the cloak on his arm, eyes never leaving his as you step closer, tilting your chin up to size him. “You are my husband now, and I am your wife.” You say, removing the heavy cloak from his hold.

“So long as you are mine and I am yours, we will have no other.”

And something in Eddie’s gaze churns.

Like your words have altered something within him— opened a portal to something you have yet to experience in him.

“I won’t fuck you.” He replies.

Your gaze challenges his, and you don’t think before dropping his cloak to the ground to press your palms against his chest. Two steps and the back of his knees hit the couch, legs buckling beneath him and forcing him to drop onto the plush seat. 

You grasp at your robe and chemise, hiking the thin material up as you gently mount Eddie’s lap, nerves be damned.

Eddie’s hands hover at your hips, but he doesn’t touch you, resistance swimming in his eyes as he gazes up at you. You settle over him, bare thighs touching the rough material of his breeches, your centers ghosting over one another as you lean over him.

“Then I will fuck you.”

He is so articulated with his eyes, bright in the words that refuse to roll off his tongue, and you know you have him caught now.

You lower yourself onto him, shifting your center over his growing bulge, and your body preens at the shaky breath that leaves him. You rest a hand on the back of the seat, nails digging into the stiff material as your other hand settles on the curve of his jaw.

You hadn’t kissed since the ceremony hours earlier when you were still brewing with anger and misfortune— but now, with Eddie’s wide eyes watching you and the brewing heat of pleasure that comes with every drag of your hips, you can’t help but find yourself wanting to feel his lips on yours again.

Eddie, seemingly keeping true to his word, does not show any signs of acting on the intense pull between you, so you take it upon yourself to lower your lips onto his.

He is soft, bittersweet with the taste of wine on his tongue, but it only makes you want more.

You lean into him, body pressing against him as he kisses you back, lips moving in tandem with yours as his hands finally— and hesitantly— touch you.

They leave trails of fire up your skin, coasting up your sides and back, gentle yet firm as he holds the back of your neck and presses into you.

Your hips are steady in movement against his, seeking pleasure with every roll until you can no longer hold back the moan that spills from you. Eddie breathes heavily against your lips when you part, blown eyes focused on you as you crumble beneath the weight of pleasure, chasing that twisting feeling of heat.

He keeps one hand on your neck as the other travels down the expanse of your body, fluid and malleable with the dips and rises of your body. He lands on your hip, gentle fingers pressed against your skin as he follows the flow of your motion. He doesn’t try to take charge, doesn’t dig his fingers into your skin to move you against him in the ways he wants you to, but he’s there.

He is gentle in his guidance, delicate in the way he lets you use him— and he is a sight.

Flushed cheeks and blown eyes, bated breaths, and shaky grasps of restraint. He is war and the solemn peace that comes after.

You want more.

You move in hopes of searching for the ties of his breeches, but he stops you faster than you can move, shaking his head as he speaks with heavy breaths, “Cum like this. Keep going.”

You whimper, hips never having stopped their pace as the pleasure threatens to spill over the edges. It’s an all-encompassing feeling, having Eddie beneath you and encouraging you as you rut up against him, needy to feel that explosion of fire.

It doesn’t take much longer, not with the way Eddie leans up to press soft, fluttery kisses beneath your chin, and you find yourself falling into the abyss of satisfaction, moans and whimpers seeping from you like loose change.

The room seems to spin, candlelight and heat searing through you as you come to, legs shaking on either side of him. But you’re not done.

You kiss him, wet and heavy and needy. Less calculated than the others yet outdoing them by miles.

“Take me to bed,” you pant against his lips, “If you do nothing, do this one thing and take me to our bed.” You say, fingers curled into the soft material of his collar. 

There is a slight edge of reprimand in your words, a taunting lilt— if you don’t want to fuck your wife like a man, the least you can do is carry her to bed— it’s so mean. Yet, it does the job.

Eddie's eyes grow dim, an untamed beast growling to wake in his chest before he wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he stands. You are caught in his gaze, chest still rising with bated breaths as he walks away from the couch and towards the bed. 

“Our bed?” He lowly huffs. 

“Against my wishes, yes.”

Your fingers sink into his nicely pulled-back hair, searching for the tie to tug and loosen. His hair falls like a flower in spring, blooming with the dark riches of the earth, orange fire framing his mane of curls. He is beautiful and devastating.

You drop the string, careless where it falls as you run your hands through the soft strands.

Despite the fire radiating through Eddie, he lowers you onto the bed softly, handling you as if you’re a gem, and you squirm when you find yourself missing the heat of him as he stands at the foot of the bed.

He stands before you, tall and brooding, as he untucks his shirt from his breeches, slinking his arms out from the sleeves and letting the thin material drop. 

The reveal of his body is earth-shattering. Mind-numbing. The feeling of awe that overtakes you when you wake up just in time to see how the sun kisses the sea and melts the glass waters. 

He is violent. Sharp and merciless to the mind, a living depiction of the growing demise of the world.

But he is also radiant. Imperfect like a mine of gold, jagged around the edges with cuts and scars that run deeper than you’ll ever know. Inked stories pressed into his skin, thick lines running across his ribs and slithering to his back, hours of pain spent to capture a moment. 

He is so devastatingly beautiful.

The world grows dull in your ears; you hear nothing but the crackling snap of the candles that light the room and the uneven breaths that expel from your chest. Eddie looks at you, steady and calculated, watching you as if hunting you— and you don’t know why, but you find yourself reaching for him.

Your fingers are colder than his body when they touch him, soft tips grazing the sewn skin of his torso, and you leave trails of bumps in their wake as you dance over his skin.

Eddie’s skin is warm beneath your lips, and the steady thump of his heart is so vivid you can almost taste it through the layers of skin, blood, and bone. You gently caress what you can touch, thumbs sliding over raised skin that had once been broken, lips following suit with gentle pecks to each one until Eddie raises his hands to cup your face.

His lips are on yours like hot metal meeting water, sizzling fire and bursting in color. It’s addicting, kissing him. You don’t want to stop.

He presses into you, pushing you back until you’re laid against the bed, steady on your elbows as his ringed hands coast up your legs. So gentle in tow, rough in comparison to your soft skin as they push your gown further up your thighs. The air is cool between your legs, chills dancing up your spine until you shiver and pant against his lips.

Eddie then parts from you, dragging in air like he is greedy for it. His gaze dances over your body as he drags a hand over his mouth, looking at you in seemingly deep thought. He swallows, his resolve loose as the seconds pass before he finally speaks— “Need to be wet.”

Your face twists in confusion, the sheets twisting in your grip as you gaze up at him, “What?”

Eddie sinks to his knees, wordlessly dragging his hands over your thighs as he grumbles, “You need to be wet.” His hands coast up your legs, pushing your chemise up over your hips until you are bare to his eyes. “Wetter than this.” His gaze is hungry yet appreciative, drinking you in as if he will never get another chance to— if he will, you’re not sure. Your face is warm, blooming with shock, and a churning heat that settles in your stomach. 

And you have never had a man kneel before you. You are of high rank, yes, but you are no queen. Neither are you a lord. The people don’t bend a knee to your honor as often as they do to your father, and though you never really understood why men puffed their chest out so high and mighty upon the gesture, you think you understand now as you watch Eddie sink to the floor.

It’s humbling, seeing such a man of his stature relinquish his pride to rest before your feet, and it only gets better when he parts your thighs and leans forward to pepper wet and warm kisses to the insides of your thighs.

You’re shaking already, fists curling into the plush sheets of the bed, chest heaving in ecstasy. The feeling of Eddie’s curls brushing against your thighs makes you tremble, a smile threatening to pull on your lips at the sensation. His lashes flutter as he moves forward, a sense of shock overtaking your body as he pushes his face into the hilt of your cunt, nose pressed to the neatly trimmed hairs of your pelvis before breathing in deep. You whimper, squirming beneath his hold as he noses at you, breathing you in like you’re the last draw of air his lungs will ever receive.

“You smell divine.” He grumbles, voice thick with lust.

You breathe, teeth sharp against the inside of your cheek as you gaze at him with wide eyes, “T-thank you…” Your words fall off in a moan as he drags his tongue against you, through your folds and wetness, humming as if he hadn’t had his fill from the feast.

He leans in more, hooking an arm around your thigh to pull you in before completely devouring you. You can hardly keep your composure, licks of fire running through your veins in pulses as you quiver on Eddie’s tongue. Your vision wavers, eyes fluttering shut as your head tips back, mouth parted in desperate moans as you struggle to keep yourself open for him.

He groans against you, palm heavy on your tummy as the other hand reaches up to drag a thumb over your lips, sinking into the wet heat of your mouth. “Open your eyes,” he says against you, “Look at me.”

It takes everything in you to do so, but you manage, tilting your head back down to look at the man between your thighs.

“I want you to watch.”

Gods— you’re not sure if the air has been sucked out of the room, or you’re just that speechless. But you have no time to figure it out because Eddie is back to licking and sucking at you like his life depends on it. Like you are his last meal on earth. Like your cunt is the fountain of life and he’s spent years searching for it.

You are his altar, his god, and he is your loyal disciple.

The familiar feeling of pressure builds quicker this time, and your grasp on restraint is little to none, so Eddie can feel it when you’re close. He is cruel when he parts from you. A slick, wet sound and a string of spit come with his withdrawal, and it makes your face burn.

You had forgotten how great Eddie is in size with his position beneath you, but you’re reminded when he stands to his full height. You can’t help but watch with hungry eyes as his hands drop to the waist of his breeches, skilled fingers quickly unlacing the ties. 

He is an encapturing scene to watch, his muscles flexing with each movement, stories coming to life with each twist— and you almost become too distracted with it to notice the unveiling of his cock.

But you can not ignore it for long because Eddie… is big.

He had told you so at the feast, and you had taken it with a grain of salt. However, this is no grain of salt before you. This is—

“It’s not as frightening as it looks.”

Your eyes snap to his, wide and no doubt doing nothing to mask your shock. “Well, that is easy for you to say.” You respond.

And for the first time, a genuine laugh spills from Eddie. It’s warming to hear it, a sound that could— arguably— put the mourning doves to shame. And you think you might see little carves of sun in his cheeks. A strong juxtaposition for someone like him to carry an angel's kiss within his smile, yet incredibly appreciative.

He rids himself fully of his trousers, shoes already off, as he kicks them to the side. He is a force of nature as he towers over you, gentle hands brushing against your skin when he cups your face. But he doesn’t take action. No, instead, he steps away and walks towards the side of the bed, climbing up to lay against your pillows.

You watch over your shoulder before turning to him, face twisted in confusion as you ask, “What are you doing?”

Eddie shrugs, “I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

You look at him for a moment, a long moment— his thick cock the only thing giving away the state of his desire, which apparently, is enough for you to turn and crawl your way over to him.

You frown as you swing your leg over him to straddle his lap, an annoyed tone in your voice when you speak. “This is wrong, you know?” You huff as you unbutton your chemise.

Eddie watches silently from beneath you, eyes failing to stay trained on your face when you begin to untie the neck of your chemise.

“You are supposed to fuck me. Worship me and show me that you want me.” You grumble as you fully open your chemise, your body on full display.

Between you, Eddie drags a slow fist up his cock, his tip ruddy and wet with excitement. A thrum of shock and sick pleasure twists through your body when he lightly taps his cock against your lower tummy, “Not proof enough for you, princess? Or are you just being greedy?” He teases with a tilt of his head.

Your heart races at the sight— Eddie pressed into your pillows, hair fanned out beneath him, his bare and scarred chest pink beneath your touch as his cock begs to be touched. Your core aches at the sight of him between your thighs, your fingers taking his place as you wrap them around his cock— and he is so warm. So thick and full of weight between your fingers, you can’t help but look up and ask— “Will it hurt as you said?”

Eddie gazes at you, never having stopped, brown eyes blown with desire. He can hear it, the slight tinge of fear in your voice. A warm hand resides beneath your open chemise and rests against your hip, a gentle thumb caressing your hot skin. “I licked you for a reason.”

Though lewd, it does well to ease your nerves. You find the tension in your shoulders lessen, and you hardly pay any mind as you wriggle closer to Eddie, softly sighing when you feel the heat of him. 

It makes your body ache.

He is heavy in your palm as you press him against your core, the soft tip tapping the aching bud of your clit. Your body writhes at the feeling, thighs parting further for him. His grip tightens on your waist, his gaze falling to watch as you paint his tip through your folds and down to your entrance.

You suck in a breath, toes curling in anticipation before you sink onto him. It’s an odd feeling at first, something more like a foreign pressure than pain, but the further you sink down, the more the heat rises and the burn of the stretch eats away at you. Below you, Eddie curses, his head dropping when you pulse around him. You pull in a sharp breath, thighs threatening to close as the first wave of pain washes through you. Eddie returns to reality quickly, looking up at you as he reaches out to pull you forward, cooing at you soft and sweetly, “You’re doing so good. So fucking well, princess. Just relax.”

You try your best, taking steady breaths as you continue to wriggle down into him, but by the time he is pressed to the hilt, you hardly have control over the breathless pants leaving your throat. “I— it’s big. It’s so big,” You shakily breathe. 

His lips are warm against your forehead, pressing soft, warm kisses as you flutter around his cock, the burn slowly but surely becoming bearable. Your hips squirm against him and he hums, praising you and caressing every inch of you whilst making no effort to make you move. 

You don’t know how long you stay seated on his cock, but you can feel yourself stretched to the brim with him and suddenly you want nothing more than to feel it move within you. With your palms pressed into the pillows beside Eddie’s head, you find stability on your palms and knees before dragging your hips up, slow and steady— and your vision goes white.

It is indescribable, the feeling of Eddie’s cock pressed so snugly against your wet walls, the feeling of him dragging through you slow enough for you to still feel the lingering burn mixed with that dull tease of pleasure. And you can feel Eddie physically holding back. Can see it swimming in his eyes when he looks up at you.

He wants to ravish you.

He wants to push himself into you so deep you won’t know where he ends and you begin.

He is a brooding force of desire and lust and power, and he could very well do it within the blink of an eye, yet… he doesn’t.

He stays beneath you, hands shaking with impulse as they drag up your sides to softly cup your breasts. His chest rises and falls shakily, tongue darting out to lick his lips as he lets you drag your cunt up and down his length.

He watches your body move, eyes seemingly overwhelmed with where to focus— and you don’t even think he meant for you to hear it when he says, “You are so beautiful.”

You whimper at his admission, head lolling back as you sink down onto him again and again. He kisses your neck, wet and hungry, and your body keens when he wraps his lips around your pert nipple, rough thumb dragging over the other, “Such pretty tits. All mine now.” He mutters.

“Is it—” You can hardly breathe when you fully sink onto him again, it feels like his cock is lodged between your lungs, but god it’s so good. “Is it g-good for you?” You ask.

His hands tighten on your hips, face twisting in pleasure for just a moment before he grunts out a response— “Fuck. Yeah, yeah, keep going.” His voice is low and rough and it sends shivers up your spine as you grind your hips into his. “Is it good for you?” He asks. 

Your mind goes blank for a moment— you hadn’t imagined he’d care, not when he’s so vividly troubled between the throes of his pleasure and the fight to sustain his composure. You drop onto him, harder than before, your cunt fluttering around him as you whimper in pleasure and respond, “Yes.”

He smiles at the action, his cock pulsing within you at the sound of your bliss. You do it again, this time both of your resolves cracking, a broken moan slipping from you as Eddie grunts, fingers digging crescent moons into your skin. 

You lean over him and press a hand to his jaw, a thumb dragging across his lips as your breath hitches, watery eyes gazing into his as the stretch burns through your hips and thighs. Your face twists in a mix of unrecognizable pleasure, a mix of pain and fear, but overall— “Show me.”— curiosity. 

How does Eddie want? How does Eddie need? Is he greedy? Rough? Angry? Or is he soft and kind— just like this?

The clench of his hands on your waist says otherwise.

Eddie shakes his head, jaw clenching as you drag his cock out of your wet, warm heat, just the tip caught in your pulsing entrance as your body shudders at the feeling. You sink back onto him, veins running against your velvet walls as you shakily breathe, “Show me, Eddie.” You say again, your other hand sinks into his hair, nails dragging against his scalp.

“I want to know what you like—” “It isn’t kind.”

Your heart races then— will he hurt you? Will he beat you like you’ve heard other women whisper about their own husbands. A feeling churns in the pit of your stomach, his rough hand dragging over your chest to palm at your breast.

“...Show me.”

Earth, dark and rich, pools swirling with lust as they gaze at you. Eddie’s chest is like restless waters beneath your palms— rising and falling— the beast gnashing its teeth, hungry for something between its jaws.

You give yourself right into him. Placing your gentle nature amongst his riot— you’re unsure if you’ll thank yourself or hate yourself later.

Eddie presses his feet onto your bed, fingers tight on your waist as his hips press into you— as if he could get any deeper than he already is. If he could, you think you would die. Your moan breaks around a sob, one hand grappling to hold one of his as your other curls against his chest and your head falls, your knees digging into Eddie’s sides.

One pull out and one push in— hard and fast— it has you seeing stars. He knocks the breath out of you, his cock so wide and deep in you that you fear you’ll be feeling him for days after this. You don’t care enough to be embarrassed about how much you're gushing around him, or the jumbled moans and words that tumble from your mouth with each punishing thrust. 

Eddie groans beneath you, fingers tight on your hips as he picks you up and drops you on his cock like you’re nothing but a toy. He’s punching out staccato moans from you, that beast thrashing in his chains— so close to freedom and yet…

“Fucking cunt’s sucking me in like I paid you for it— shit.” Eddie curses, briefly letting his head drop onto your pillows before easing back up to watch where he pounds up into you. You whimper, an annoying warm twist in your belly from his words despite the disgust that tumbles from your tongue— “As if I’d ever take your money.”

Eddie’s brown eyes snap up to yours, a growl rumbling deep in his chest before he slinks a hand up your body and around your neck. He squeezes, hard enough to have your toes curl and your nails dig into his chest. He drags you down, hovering your face above his as he drills into you, his other hand grabbing a handful of your ass to help him bounce you on his cock. “You can act as if you are above me all you want, princess,” He pants against your lips, fingers tight on your neck, “But who’s cock are you about to come on, hm?” He lowly asks.

Fuck.

You aren’t sure if your lungs exist anymore. You think there might just be a big, gaping hole in your body— an empty space where Eddie’s cock has carved its way into. Because you can not breathe when you fall apart above Eddie.

You can hardly see or think. You definitely can’t speak. And beneath you, Eddie hums as if he’s some sort of demon and he’s satisfied now that your soul has left your body.

You are speechless from the overwhelming feeling of bliss, and it intensifies when Eddie hits his peak, emptying himself into you with moans so beautiful you would call anything else that reaches your ears after this a disgrace. 

It’s warm, the feeling of his cum seeping into you, and it makes your body feel as if it’s boiling, but you sink into it either way, chasing the filling sensation that erupts within you.

Beneath you, though he had just defiled your body and had nearly strangled you, Eddie is spewing out soft words in appreciation, promises of keeping you forever, making a home, keeping you round and full with his babies. If you had known better, and you do, you would say he is drunk on the feeling. You think you might be as well.

And if the feeling only exists in this room— where Eddie holds you like you’re the last piece of soul he has on earth, where he is warm and throbbing inside of you and you can almost swear you share one set of lungs— then you never want to leave.

Morning light comes quicker than you had hoped. 

After a night spent with incessant writhing as Eddie plowed into you more times than you could care to count, you wake with an aching body and a soft pull of a shy smile threatening your lips. 

Between your thighs, you ache, but it is somewhat of a welcomed feeling knowing where it came from. The breeze of warm ocean-scented air drifts through your chambers like a song, and the sheets are soft against your skin as you stretch your sleep-weighted limbs.

Flashes of yesterday come to you with each moment you spend waking. Anger and frustration, worry of what the next chapter brings, betrayal of having to give your hand to another as you came to terms with the fact that your hand was never yours to begin with. You were always a pawn in the game. You were naive to think otherwise.

Understanding and acceptance, opening your world to the favors of the man who is now your husband. Desire and lust and the bittersweet fruits of passion. It comes crashing down on you like a rogue wave.

You are a wife now. You no longer only live for yourself but for and with another as well— and it is jarring to try and understand.

Still, you are thankful Eddie seems to be… less than what he is known to be. Maybe he is more than what is believed— of course, in the sense that he is not some monstrous being that lives and breathes to destroy everything in its path.

He is not easy to read yet, no, that will come with time. But you are hopeful in the sense that you believe you may be able to live with him without hating all you have become.

And anyway, now that you have fully acknowledged yesterday and the fact that you are now married, you wonder— where is your husband?

You leave bed, limbs cracking and popping at the stretch as you throw your chemise over your naked body. You shrug a robe over for the sake of your decency and slip your feet into the nearest pair of silk slippers, shuffling over to the door. Your hand settles on the doorknob before the door swings open, barely missing you.

Eddie steps in, brown eyes roving over you as you gaze at him in slight shock from his abrupt entrance. His eyes drop to your chest, the soft material of your robe having opened when you stepped back to give him space. You cover yourself, face heating in embarrassment as you clear your throat.

Eddie blinks, stepping further into the room to let the door close, “Pack your things; we leave for Ironhold tonight.”

Your face twists in confusion as you step away, furthering your distance from him, “What? Why?”

Eddie lowly huffs, turning away and pacing towards your dresser, yanking a drawer open, “I don’t know if you noticed, but your father is on the brink of war.” He grumbles as he pulls out various articles of your clothing. You march over to him, grabbing your clothes from his hands and stuffing them back into the drawer before slamming it closed. “Why do I have to go?” You frown. Eddie turns to you and looks at you as if you’re a pain in his ass— you want nothing more than to slap the look off his face.

“Because the council demanded I bring you.”

Your chest brews with a strong sense of annoyance— your father’s council has always found ways to prod and poke at your peace. And have they not done enough within the last day?

You hardly realize you’re pacing out of your room, quick strides carrying you down the wide hallways, ignoring the greetings of maids because how can you think straight when you have just been ordered to leave your home?

The knights at the door of the council chamber don’t ask why you’re there; the fury in your steps says enough to make them drag the heavy doors open.

“I won’t go.”

The councilmen are no strangers to your sharp tongue. Since you were a child, you were never one to willingly bend to their absurd demands— you want me to do this? Then you do this— and they hate it.

The meeting has yet to finish; they are all seated, seemingly still in conversation— but you don’t care, your gaze set on your father— the man at the center of it all. He drags in a breath, shifting in his seat; the slow tap of his finger against the table shows his patience with you— you have never given him an easy day in your life, and he knows your anger best. Which is why he doesn’t hesitate to respond, “You will go.”

You step further into the room, passing the council members to stand at your father's side, the heavy, stone table cold beneath your palms when you lean down to face him. “I will have nothing to do with your corrupt and murderous war.” You sneer.

Across the table, a councilman who is watching the entire interaction barks out a laugh, “My lady, you lost that choice when you married him.”

Your body burns hot and red, frustration pumping through you in riveting waves— that was not your fault. “That was against my wishes. You forced my hand.” You remind them all.

“So you say,” Your father says with a dismissive tone. He taps against the table again, “You owe a service to your country—” “I owe a service to our people. Not your politics.” You snap.

“I will not go.” You slowly repeat.

Your father’s gaze is bothered and bored when he looks at you; a long pause of silence before he speaks, “You are married now. You go where your husband goes—” he lifts a finger to silence you when you try to talk, “You will accompany him in solidarity, and you will provide him the love and care of a good wife— do not forget that he is helping us. He is helping our country— your people.” He mocks your last words. “You will go with him if it is to be the last thing you ever do, am I understood?”

The room, though physically quiet, is loud in suffocating domination. You gaze at the stone table. You remember when you were a child and sat on your father’s knee, here in the council chamber, and you wanted nothing more than to fill his space when you grew older. You know now that his chair was crafted for no one but him.

Your voice is stern when you speak again, “I am not a mercenary.” 

The councilman speaks again, “No, but you are a woman— a wife now. This is now your assignment.”

You stared at your chamber door for some time— how long, you’re not sure, but you feel the heat of your anger as if it’s been there for years. You are no longer your own. You’re now the property of the council, told what to do and expected to follow through with no complaints, and this is only the second time you have felt it hit full force— the first being the second a ring was slipped onto your finger.

You’re being pulled away from your home now, the place you know best, the place that has kept you safe, healthy, and free. The place you’ve grown to love and know— you’re being ripped away from it and it fuels the fire within you.

You pack your things with angry hands, grabbing clothes and necessities and tossing them onto your bed in a disordered manner. Robin steps in just after noon, eyes widening when she sees the heap of clothes on your bed.

“They’re forcing me to go with him.” You huff.

Robin walks towards you where you angrily fold your clothes, stuffing them into bags with an angry scowl. Robin places a hand on your arm, a gentle suggestion to let her take over.

You huff and step away, turning towards the window of your room facing out towards your city's port. “As I have heard,” Robin softly says as she begins folding your things, “I will be with you the whole way.” She tries to comfort you. It’s kind, and although it does ease you a little bit, it’s not enough to put out the burning embers in your gut.

Out in the port, you watch as Eddie’s men prepare the ships, hauling heavy crates of goods and weapons onto the deck. Eddie is there too, on the deck of the biggest ship, pushing crates and barking orders, telling them where to put containers and what shipments go on which boat. He commands like it’s second nature. Hardly thinking about it as he flicks his wrist to gesture towards a ship, never having to repeat an order twice because his men hear him, and they obey him.

You grimace at the sight of him, annoyed that you’re about to be stuck on a ship for him for at least two weeks.

“He is insufferable, Robin.” You grumble, eyes trained on him down at the port.

“One moment he is sincere and kind and the next minute he is the complete opposite. You should have seen him last night,” you say, briefly turning to look at her, “He was like a shapeshifter. And to think I’m bound to him til death— gods, nothing could be worse.” You grumble.

You’re brewing in silent anger, watching the chaos from above as Robin softly sighs.

“I wish he would just disappear.” You softly whisper.

And you do… you think. The only good thing Eddie has brought you was quivering legs and a few purple bruises between your thighs. 

Robin drags in a deep breath as she walks over to you, her shoulder touching yours as you both gaze out into the port. “It will get better, I’m sure, my lady.” She softly says.

Eddie’s ship is not what you had imagined it to be.

In stories and word of mouth, the Lord of Death sails on ships made of bones and steel, with a putrid scent of burning flesh and echoing screams of torture to complete it.

It’s terrifying to imagine. Appalling to hear and nearly impossible not to gasp at, but somehow, the moment you stepped onto the ship, no overwhelming sense of death hit you. Instead, you were greeted with curt nods and quick, warm hellos— surprisingly good hospitality seeing as the men you’ll be stuck with are brooding with rage and a thirst for blood.

Eddie’s quarters are adequate. Where Eddie has a character that exudes chaos and disarray, his quarters are somewhat cleaner than you had expected.

There is a large desk to the right, books upon books stacked on the floor and shoved into the bookcase on the wall behind it. There’s not much room, so aside from the desk and the books, there’s a sofa that rests beneath the window and a bed off to the left of the room. It’s a shameful sight of a bed, but it is now your reality.

Upon boarding this ship, you were under the impression that you would be sleeping somewhere else given the unfortunate circumstances of your presence and rather strained relationship, but after a short (and exasperating) discussion, Eddie told you it would be ridiculous for you to sleep anywhere that is out of his sight on a ship full of men. So, despite your heart's desires, you begrudgingly agreed that it would be best that you just stay in the captain's quarters… with Eddie.

You are not so excited about staying with him.

Along with Robin and your few bags of clothes, Steve has also tagged along despite Eddie’s clear and strong distaste towards him and his ‘unnecessary need to protect you’ as Eddie had said it. 

“Steve goes everywhere I go; he is my guard.”

“I’ll give you a new one in Ironhold. A real one.”

Your face pinches in annoyance, “Steve is a real guard, he’s a sworn knight.” You argue. 

“He’s an amateur.” Eddie grumbles. 

“Well, I only want Steve—” “Oh, would you like to fuck him as well?” Eddie pressed. You looked at him for a moment, realizing this was not an argument of your safety, but one of possession. “Steve is coming. End of discussion.”

Because Steve is your guard. His father was your guard when you were little, and when Steve became old enough and well-crafted with a sword, he became your guard. He has never left your side since and he won’t be doing so anytime soon just because Eddie has some unspoken problem with him. Steve was the deciding factor that you would be sleeping in Eddie’s quarters, even though Eddie refrained from saying it— you can tell.

RedGate is now nowhere in sight, and the only thing you can see through the cabin window is miles of nothing but water and sky. It’s been only a few hours since you left shore, but you are already feeling the burning rocks of yearning beginning to settle within you. 

Or maybe it’s just brewing anger that’s hot within you.

Eddie’s desk is clear of papers and has been replaced with plates of warm food and bread, and across from you sits none other than your beloved husband. It is silent in the cabin, save for the humming noise of the rocking ship and the occasional clinking of Eddie’s utensils. And despite the fact that the meal looks good, you haven’t moved an inch to even try it.

Eddie takes note of this after a few bites of his dinner, glancing up at you as he chews his food, jaw prominent under work. He gestures to the table with his fork, “Are you going to sit there and stare until it rots?”

Your gaze flickers from your plate to the brown eyes watching you. They look like thick honey under the candlelight, and you hate that it stirs your insides. He nods towards the food before you, “Eat your dinner before it gets cold.”

As if you are a child.

“Do you enjoy telling me what to do? Is that the kind of power you seek in a union?” You prod.

Eddie looks at you, chewing his food as he drops his fork and knife on his plate to rest his fists against the table. He swallows, eyes never leaving you as he shrugs, “If you do not want to eat then—” You don’t care to let him finish before you cut him off, “Because I will warn you now, it will be easier for you to cut off your fighting arm and learn to wield a sword with your other than to tame me to be your pet.”

Honey light spills across Eddie’s face, silky smooth tendrils framing his face and casting shadows— and you think you see a ghost of a smile on his lips, but you don’t see well enough before his lips start moving, “I have hounds in Ironhold, I do not need a pet.”

Your eyes subtly narrow, “You’re clever.”

“And you’ll starve,” Eddie drags in a breath as he picks up his utensils again, “Eat.”

You don’t bother moving to reach for your fork and instead reply, “Shouldn’t captains eat with their crew?”

Eddie gazes at you for a long moment, letting your question hang in the air as he cuts his food— and from here, you can see why people are so afraid of him: he glares like his gaze is meant to kill.

He finally drops his gaze from you, focused on his plate, as he replies, “I am a married man now. I should dine with my wife.”

To which you can’t help but scoff, rolling your eyes as you shift in your chair, “Please,” you scoff, “I thought the people of Ironhold do not follow tradition.” You say, reminding him of the conversation he had with your mother right before you left. Your mother had scolded you for being difficult about your situation as you pleaded that there was no reason for you to accompany Eddie on his journey home. 

“I’m sure you have a tradition for newlyweds in Ironhold— you wouldn’t want to miss that, would you?” Your mother pointed out. To which Eddie softly laughed, “We’re not a traditional family, my lady.” 

Eddie grumbles, cutting into his food and still avoiding your gaze as he responds, “That was a lie to get your mother to relent for your and my sake. My people are built on tradition, everyone knows that.”

You watch as he eats, his words turning your head— it was almost as if he was implying your mother isn’t well-versed in her history— and she is. You relent and pick up your fork, pushing at your food before you softly say, “She’s only looking out for me.”

Eddie still does not look at you when he replies, “Good for her then.”

And Eddie’s walls are thick and tall. Indestructible from your point of view. You had hope last night, but now he is as cold as he was at the feast, if not more. And even though this is not ideal for you, it would be foolish of you to not at least try to make it work— at least for your father’s purpose. What does it take to ignite the man from yesterday?

You stare at Eddie for a moment, the candle flickering against his features. Soft and beautiful in this light, always. Your nails dig into the skin of your palms as your fists clench before you abruptly rise from your seat, “You are insufferable.” You huff, tossing your napkin on your unfinished plate and walking away towards the bed.

“If I’m so insufferable, join the fish.”

You scoff out a laugh, forcefully rearranging the pillows and blankets on the bed with a scowl on your face, “Believe me,” you huff, “I would want nothing more than to leave this god-forsaken ship. Anywhere far away from you and this vessel of death.”

Eddie laughs, a screech of his plate bouncing through the room as he replies, “I can guarantee you won’t find that place in my bed, darling.”

Gods, the smug manner of his words infuriates you. You opt to stop replying, busying yourself with getting the bed ready for your rest. Eddie takes a deep breath and sighs, “You have barely eaten, you can not go to bed.”

“I’m not bloody hungry.” You snap

“Stop being difficult.” Eddie huffs.

You manage to tune out the noise of Eddie cutting and eating his food, paying no mind as you begin to undo the laces of your dress. You focus on untying your dress, becoming frustrated when the intricate lacing does not bend to your will because— god, the dressmaker really loves to make your gowns extravagant and storytelling, but it is times like these when you curse him for such talent.

And in the frustration of your dress and your situation, you must’ve missed the tapping of Eddie’s boots on the hardwood floor, only realizing his presence when it’s too late and he presses a warm hand to your arm.

You jolt with a breath, body colliding with Eddie’s hard chest. “Let me,” He says. You shrug yourself away from him, elbow digging into his chest as you huff and continue twisting and prodding at the strings, “I don’t need your help.” You sneer.

Eddie’s hands are firm this time when he touches you, steady and demanding, and flashes of last night roll behind your eyes. “You’ll hurt yourself.” He grumbles, gentle but annoyed as he pushes your hands away. 

You give in, seeing as he is your best way out of this damned dress, and neither of you say anything as he weaves the strings in and out of one another.

His touch is a path of fire, knuckles brushing down the middle of your back, shivers splitting like roots through your bones when you feel the cool air of his breath.

So gentle and affirming, much like the touch you knew just hours ago. As quick as it comes, it goes, and the cracking sound of silence is gone with the clearing of Eddie’s throat.

“It gets cold at sea.”

You clench your jaw, teeth-gritting against one another as you step out of your dress, a loose slip keeping you modest. “Do you think I have never sailed before?”

You glance at Eddie, raising an eyebrow as you neatly fold your dress. Eddie says nothing, jaw clenching as his fingers curl towards his palm for a moment. He paces back behind his desk and sits, ignoring you as you move about the room and he continues eating. You get into the bed— it’s stiff and hard, and the sheets are nothing like the sheets you have at home— but there’s no point in complaining, is there?

You turn your back to Eddie, shutting your eyes in defiance as you try to force yourself to sleep. But… that noise. That constant noise of chewing and utensils clicking, jesus christ— “Could you eat in a quiet manner?” You snap.

You don’t turn to look at Eddie, your body still facing the wooden wall that lines your side of the bed— but you can feel his stare. It burns against your shoulders and spine, heat trickling up the back of your neck despite the cool temperatures of the room.

“This is as quiet as I can be.” He finally responds.

And god, he’s such an asshole.

“Then you’re an imbecile.” You grumble back.

Eddie hums, dragging in a breath as he continues to eat, “Not far off from you then, princess. You’re going to freeze.” He says, an etch of annoyance dancing around the edges of his voice.

You roll your eyes, though he can’t see, “I’d rather freeze to death than be stuck here with you.” You respond. 

And when you expect to get some annoying and rude response, you only get a huff of a laugh and more clinking of plates and forks. As if he doesn’t care that you’d just implied death is more welcoming than the thought of being with him. Though you can’t see him and refuse to turn to do so, you imagine a pained expression on his face— or maybe an angry one— either way, the picture paints in your mind beautifully and you let it dance there behind your eyelids until you fall into a deep sleep.

The room is dark when your eyes flutter, barely able to fully open.

It is still night, the moon bright in the window above the sofa. Eddie is gone, his desk clear of dinner and replaced with his usual stack of scrolls and books. He is not beside you; and though the extra heat would’ve been pleasant, you don’t mind his absence. The boat softly groans against the small waves, the sound pulling you back under the arms of sleep.

And just before you feel the weight of sleep covering you again, you glance down at the bed you are laying in, more blankets spread over you than you remember there being when you fell asleep. You don’t have the time to feel your face warm before your eyes shut and your body falls limp once again.

And in the morning, you refuse to eat breakfast at the table.

When Eddie was a boy, his mother drowned at sea.

He doesn’t remember much of his mother, but from the tall portraits that hang in the vast castle halls, he knows she was beautiful. 

At night, when Eddie feels the most restless, he walks the gallery and studies his mother's portraits, tries to commit as much as he can to memory, and cling to it as if she’s still here. A part of him feels guilty for forgetting his mother; what her voice sounded like, what she smelled like, what she hated, and what she loved. He remembers none of it.

Some parts of Eddie he likes to believe came from his mother. There are the physical parts; her curly hair, her brown eyes, her sharp structure. And there are the other parts, the parts from within; his intelligence, his stubbornness, his strong-willed nature. Eddie inherited them all from her.

At the passing of his mother, Eddie loathed the sea for its treacherous waters that took her from him, and he swore to always carry the resentment in him. But it is hard.

It’s hard when you spend most days of the year bending to its will. It’s hard when the sound of her swishing waves lulls him to sleep most nights. It’s hard to hate the sea when the sea is what knows him best.

He can not sleep tonight. His mind is busy with a whirlwind of thoughts; tasks that need him, things he left unfinished back home, people he needs to see, and— you. It always swings back to you.

He’s been pacing on the deck for nearly an hour now. Trekking to one side of the boat to gaze at the still and dark waters before growing bored and switching sides.

Robin interrupts his silent storm, raspy voice nearly causing him to jump when she speaks, “You do know there are people sleeping below deck, yes?”

Eddie glances over his shoulder, stares wide-eyed as if seeing a ghost, and almost believes he is considering Robin's white gown. He clears his throat, looking away and clenching his grasp on the ship's rails, “Sorry. I did not think I was loud.”

Robin huffs out a laugh, stepping up to the rails, a good distance between them but enough for him to hear over the roar of the waters, “It’s wood. Sound travels. I would assume you, as a sailor, would surely know this.”

He does, though he does not care to point it out or pay mind— again, too busy with other things.

“What troubles you?”

Eddie glances at the woman, scoffs a laugh, and shakes his head, “Nothing you could fix.”

The wind whips around them, wisps of hair brushing across Eddie’s face, salt filling his lungs. Robin hums, “Sometimes it’s nice to talk…”

Eddie thinks for a moment. Considers the waves below him, sees his mother's face in them, catches a glimpse of the rippling moon, and sees you. Hears you. Almost thinks he can feel you. He clears his throat, looking at the sky for a moment, “There’s a losing war I’m joining,” He starts, “Ironhold is starving, I owe debts I don’t think I can ever repay, and my wife— she hates me.”

It’s been six days now. Six days since you and Eddie joined hands, and you just can’t seem to see eye-to-eye. One would think with the sex being as good as it is, the resentment would lessen tenfold— but no. Days go by where you don’t even say a word to Eddie. You refuse to eat with him, you grumble when you have to sleep next to him, and on the days that you do speak to him, it’s never a kind word. 

But Eddie isn’t innocent either. He plays your game just as dirty; says sly and mean things to you, and only ever really tolerates you during the few times you’re on top or below him— hell, most hours he even goes the extra mile to make himself busy with tasks that are usually left for his crew just so he can avoid you. It’s not ideal, but it’s the only way either of you can exist without wanting to fling the other overboard.

“You avoid her.”

“There’s work to be done around here.”

Robin scoffs a laugh, “I’ve sailed many times in my life, and never once have I seen a captain scrub the deck.” She points out. “How will you get to know her when you can hardly spend a day with her?”

Eddie clenches his jaw, frustration bubbling in his chest, “I don’t want to know her. It’s better this way. Easier.” Which is true. Eddie may come off as cruel, but he’s doing this for the both of you. Keeping you at arm's length, in the long run, will make life easier for both of you.

“It doesn’t seem easier from this point of view.”

Eddie drags in a deep breath, turning to Robin, “It doesn’t matter what it looks like to you. Our marriage is political, it doesn’t have to be anything more and it never will be. For the sake of peace, don’t encourage it to be something bigger.”

Robin looks at Eddie as if she can see right through him. Sear the skin off his bones and see to his heart, the true and devastating foundations of Eddie Munson. 

Eddie hates it.

Robin takes a short breath, shifts on her feet and tips her head, “You can learn to co-exist, you know?”

Eddie nearly forgot Robin was even there. He glances at her, freckled face and soft eyes watching him, picking him apart. 

“It doesn’t have to be a beautiful harmony, but… you both know the circumstances of your marriage, I'm sure you could both come to an understanding if you just… talked.”

Eddie looks away and grunts in response, fingers curling over the railing. “She is smarter than you think.” She adds.

“I don’t underestimate her wit.” Eddie quickly corrects. “She hates me.”

“She doesn’t know you.”

“She shouldn’t want to.”

“So you expect her to happily lie with a stranger? Protect a stranger? Risk her cause for a stranger?” Robin challenges. “She lost more than you see. She’s grieving.”

Grieving. What could you possibly know about grieving? A noble woman who’s only ever known sunshine and the riches of your father’s work. If anything, Eddie just feels sorry that he’s ripped you from the luxury he’s always wanted.

Eddie grips the railing, leaning forward slightly, annoyance bubbling through him as he acknowledges Robin's words. At the very least, Eddie should make sure you don’t hate his entire being. You carry his name now. You hold the title of his home— his people will look to you as an emblem. Having this division between you two— it’s not only putting your image at stake, but his as well.

You swore a promise to the council, a promise to your father and your people and despite the tensions between you and the world you’ve grown to detest, you’ve done a damn good job at never losing sight of your duty— no matter how much you despise it.

But how long until you grow tired of him? How long until you destroy him for all his worth? How long until you realize you and Eddie will never be the same? You are like oil and water.

Eddie can admit you're good for the game you were forced to play a hand in. You have the strength to withstand any obstacle thrown your way. He just can’t say he’s all that happy to play a part in it— not when half of his name resides on your shoulders.

“She can not read your mind. Talk to her.”

Eddie glances towards Robin again, watching as she turns and walks away, back to sleep he supposes. And Eddie is left with this new task of having to figure this out— figure out what is best for the stability of this union in the eyes of the crown and his home. 

Eddie hates to admit it, but Robin is right. He will have to set aside his pride and meet you in the middle, no matter how much it pains him.

part two.

————

a/n: OH EM GEEEE, guys this has been in my google docs for over a year LMAOO, I'm SHOCKED she's seeing the light of day honestly. if you've made it to the end of this chapter, thank you so much for reading and i hope you enjoy the ride if you choose to stick around !!!

as always, thank u for reading and being here, ily and love appreciate any form of feedback <3 THERE'S MORE TO COME, ILY MWAH <3

————

cutesy lil royal taglist: @munson-blurbs @ali-r3n @rogueinmymind @pretty-vulture @jasminelafleur @georgeweasleyslostearhq @emxxblog @3rd-conchord @leelei1980 @t00thfairy20 @bl00d-puppy @hereforshmut

@sst0txx @mdurdenpitt @stylesxmunson @l1ving-d3ad-girl-69 @chaoticgood-munson @sirensleepingsoundly @missjadesfics @awkward00noodle @darknesseddiem

[quarterlifekitty]

Desperate times

A sequel to this post and poll. Started feeling a little jigsaw-y…. Decided that I wanted to continue this post— what would it be like if their methods didn’t work? If they had to up the ante?

The top two winners of the poll won’t have to find out, because they’re getting you back! The rest? Well…

cw: dubcon/noncon, stalking, unhealthy relationships, somno, daddy kink stuff, intox, violence, baby trapping, and more stuff I don’t really know how to describe lol

❌Gaz is making a spectacle. Formulating the ultimate romantic gesture— a in a public place. He’s used your family and friends to lure you there on their invitation. Can’t you see how all of them want you to take him back? Look at him, on his knee in the middle of the botanical garden, promising to be better for you if you’ll just give him another chance. They’re all waiting on your response. Come on, luv, just give them what they want.

❌Soap is moving onto step 2, and that’s getting you drunk. Not so hard when you and your friends go to an upscale bar. He conveniently runs quite late meeting the 141 there, so to you and your friends, there’s just a handsome group of strangers sending some pretty girls free drinks. And everyone knows the girly drinks have the highest percentages. The rest of the gang will pick off your friends (payment for doing him this favor) and he’ll be ready to swoop in and take you home. Aren’t you lucky he was there? Just let him get you into bed. Ach, he really shouldn’t leave you alone in this state… best stay the night. A bit of advice? Don’t squirm when he gets to work— reminding you of the good times.

❌Ghost keeps it going strong with the scary voicemails. And they keep getting worse. The grunting, and threats, the desperation coating his voice. Not nice to keep your man waiting, birdie. They’re followed by photos. Printed out physically, slipped in your mail slot or under your door, bare. No envelope, no address or signature. All dated with black sharpie, all recent. You looking both ways, getting ready to cross the street. Changing out of your work clothes when you get home. His gloved thumb gently brushing your lip while you’re sleeping. His cum on your toothbrush. That one is dated as two weeks old. Just let him back into your life, birdie.

⭕️ Price feels his heart sing when he sees your name on the caller id. He gives the perfect, respectful response. It’s good to hear from you. Is everything alright? When he agrees to meet up with you, he doesn’t let it show how eagerly he’s been waiting for the chance. Tells you that you look good. Life must’ve been treating you well since he last saw you. He seems so genuinely pleased for you… He almost lets his calculated restraint slip when you say you’d like to give things another go. Asks if you’re sure. If he were being honest, in his eyes, things never ended. This was just a rough patch. But he’s glad you’ve come around to seeing it his way. He’ll have you moved back in by the end of the month, swollen with his kid by the end of the next. It’ll weigh you down, make it easier for him to slip the ring on.

⭕️ Honest to god, König sees the halo glow behind your crown when you meet up with him, and agree to a second chance. He promises that he’ll be better— you won’t want for anything, he’ll be so good for you. He’s acting like you’ve agreed to marry him. Maybe because in his mind, you have. That’s inevitable, seeing as he’s never going to lose you again.

❌ Nikolai starts getting a lot less… clean with your potential paramours. Gone are the bribes, the simple threats and ghosting— in are the bloody heaps of men that are just alive enough to twitch. This could all stop. Just be his good girl again, come back to your ivory tower. Papochka won’t be upset, he’ll just be glad to have you home. His patience for you is endless, but for the rest of the world? Well, do you really want to find out?

[goldenstring6123]

Lnds: Their nicknames for you

Warning: No warning!

SYLUS:

Peeping Tom - You like to enter the shower when he's in, and he can no longer count on his fingers how many times you walked in on him changing, not that he's shy. Despite this, he doesn't lock the door to his closet or the bathroom. One day, when you're off guard, he'll definitely pounce at you.

Mrs. Boss (Alt. Little boss) - You weren't married, no, but with how you treat him, he feels like a husband. Despite being the boss of Onichynus, it's amusing to see you hand out orders. This nickname is something he'd use while you're undercover and using your aristocrat alter-identity. The Mrs. was something he used because he likes to imagine you're married to him; after all, no man can match you other than him.

My Wife - Again, you weren't married, but people can't seem to take a hint when he says he's not interested. At every event, someone is bound to throw themselves at him and insist on being his company, but with a simple mention of "I have a wife," followed by a statement about you being displeased or angered, they scurry away. You don't know he uses that nickname in front of strangers, and it doesn't look like he's going to stop anytime soon.

Other nicknames: Dessert Vacuum, Little Birdie & Little Hamster

Xavier:

Ms. Idol - He once overheard you singing out loud while you were in the shower. When you were at the karaoke bar, madly drunk, you kept stealing the microphone from your peers. Sometimes, he also likes to listen to you hum. He deems it appropriate to give you that nickname.

Little Star - You were very skilled against him in kitty cards, and it didn't feel appropriate to give you the nickname "Best Player in Linkon City, Queen of Kitty Cards," so he just called you the Little Star. How that nickname correlates to the game is unknown to you, but oh well.

Personal Pillow - He likes to sleep on you. On your shoulder, on your thigh, even against your back—he can and will go to sleep if he could. Xavier would always wake up with you in his embrace, and you never really complained, so he continued doing it. He'll only use this nickname whenever you're staying up late, and he's waiting for you to go to bed. You'll be in the living room, and you'll hear him say, "I need my pillow to sleep!"

Other nicknames: Pastry Princess & Pretty Lady

Rafayel:

Bully - With your frequent teasing and provocation, you ought to see this one coming. This is his nickname on your phone, and you didn't really know it until you snooped around. Once you find out, he outright calls you a bully whenever you poke fun at him for doing something.

My Muse - He doesn't call you this face-to-face, but this is your nickname when Rafayel is talking to art buyers and connoisseurs. They often ask about who he's drawing inspiration from. He sometimes says "his lover," but to him, it felt more exciting and intriguing to refer to you as his muse.

Starfish - This was a testament to your habit of hogging the entire bed. Every time you sleep over, you end up sprawled all over the bed like a starfish stuck to glass. Rafayel had to endure the small space that he had left on his bed and altogether just slept on the sofa on bad nights. Sometimes, he'd be surprised to wake up with the bed all to himself until he looked at the floor. And there you were in the same position, except flipped over.

Other nicknames: Pufferfish/Koi Fish, Beau, Cutie

Zayne:

Ms. Hunter - He uses this nickname when you're in the hospital getting treated for an injury from work. This is a nickname that's also a sign: a sign that Zayne is mildly pissed at your carelessness at work. When he uses this nickname, he becomes formal with you until you get a good dose of scolding from him.

Honey - He uses this on a daily basis inside your home and when he's on his day off. This was sort of like your second name, and whenever you hear the word, you almost always turn to look at Zayne. You call him honey, too, but you prefer the shorter version: Hun.

Sweetheart - This is a nickname Zayne uses to comfort you. Whenever you have a bad day or are in a bad mood, Zayne will automatically enter 'doting-lover' mode. He'd use this to refer to you and break down your emotional walls until you can tell him what's wrong. 10/10 if he uses this nickname outside of those moments, then it means Zayne is asking you to do him a favor of some sort.

Other nicknames: Sweetie & Wife

Caleb:

Angry Bird - Caleb calls you this because back then, you had the temperament of a fussy old lady. He'd always find a way to piss you off, and you'd run after him with a stick or something that you could hit him with.

Author footnotes: I added Caleb because I want to slowly integrate him to my works.

Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost |

[chuluoyi]

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 08:25 P.M 」

tw: pregnancy. overall, just some domestic dad-to-be gojo trying to show how much he loves you even with how your body changes and all <3 based on a request!

a part of gojo's love entries

don’t think that satoru hasn’t noticed how you linger in front of the mirror these days, touching your body all over—particularly your baby bump. seeing your face twist into a sad frown dampens his spirits too.

on the other hand, you understand that it’s a natural process, but you have never gained this much weight before, and despite already having your husband reassure you before, you still feel somewhat meh about yourself.

“how’s my favorite girl and little rascal doing today?” he flopped down on the bed beside you as soon as he returned from school, caressing your belly. “ready to come out yet?”

you throw him an unamused look. “no, satoru. and don’t make it sound so effortless. i’m the one pushing him out.”

“ahh, but i can’t wait though~”

his palpable excitement actually made you smile as you placed your hand over his. but then your smile fell a bit and he was quick to notice it.

“what’s on your mind?” he asked then. “talk to me, hmm?”

“no… it’s nothing.” you looked away, a bit ashamed. if satoru says he’s not bothered by your figure, you really shouldn’t be thinking about this any longer. you didn't want to make him worry… but it really wasn't easy to let it go.

“hmm, my baby mama can’t be sad,” your husband pouted, and suddenly he pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “she’s the cutest when she smiles.”

you looked up to him, feeling the security in his arms and yet still a hint of uncertainty in your voice. “am i just cute… to you?”

you wanted to be beautiful too. like how he used to sing you praises during your school days.

satoru grinned. and it’s the kind of toothy grin that makes your heart soar.

“no. you’re also pretty.” he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “and you’re smart, kind, nags a lot, gets pouty easily… and you're sweet like a dango, makes me want to gobble you up.”

“so now i’m a dango?” you nestled your head against his broad chest, feeling your face start to heat up, and a smile beginning to curve your lips. stupid satoru. he said all of them so easily it was making you giddy and felt silly for doubting him at all.

“just because our baby is going to be a mochi. and look, you’re so close to carrying him to full-term,” he rubbed your swollen tummy again, this time with a more sincere smile. “i love you the most for it.”

your eyes took a shine, processing his words, and you could’ve sworn that right now, nothing could’ve shaken your feelings for your silly husband.

suddenly your baby kicked you hard as if to reprimand you too for your insecurities, and you winced.

“hurts?” satoru questioned, slightly concerned when you nodded. “wait i’ll tell him off.”

he cleared his throat and began making circular motions on your abdomen, as if to summon him.

“yo, brat. you can’t kick your mama like that too often these days. you’re accumulating karma and she counts it. when you come out, she’ll forbid you from eating our favorite mochis and—”

“satoru!!”

and then the two of you just burst into giggles, and once again, you utterly and thoroughly fell in love with him. for always making you feel safe... and loved.

“you know, satoru...” this time it was you who hugged him, breathing in his scent for comfort. now you were totally worry-free, the softest of smile on your face. “i’m really grateful that... we found each other.”

at your heartfelt confession, satoru felt his chest tighten with warmth and his cheeks flush. he is so blushing and he tries covering it with a chuckle. and the words lingering at the tip of his tongue were—

“heh, aren’t you glad you married me?”

yeah... i’m so glad that it’s you too.

[kurokawaia]

❛ HE'S A SOFTEY, REALLY ! ❜

Feitan Portor X Fem!Reader

WC; 1.9k+ |MDNI! | TW/CW; grumpy x sunshine troupe, you and fei are married >.< (sorry i just love him sm), x fem reader, soft sex, piv, pwp? pwop?, cervix kissing, oral -> female receiving, OOC warning

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) hmm, in celebration of hunter x hunter returning, can I have some soft feitan smut? female afab reader one shot :3 thank you - @ofrolysdogs

m.list | hxh m.list

People always say how heartless and inhuman your husband is, but you never saw that. Feitan was such an irascible man, yet always so gentle and patient with you. Won't criticize or put you down for all those little things you do.

Members of the phantom troupe, namely Bonolenov, Phinks, and Franklin, always give you a shocked or concerned glance whenever you walk in. It is only because you're such a bright, oblivious woman and Feitan is the exact opposite that they think you are in danger somehow, maybe Feitan has you contained against your will.

But it wasn't like that at all. Fei was always so sweet and nice to you. Sometimes he does get really rough when having sex, but you don't mind, you like it! And sometimes he is super soft with you too, like for instance right now.

You're lying underneath Feitan, your legs strewn over his shoulders, head arched back on the plush pillow. Feitan said something about positioning a smaller pillow beneath your hips would elevate comfort- and sure enough it did. His constant attention was to your pleasure and comfort.

"Fei," you mumble as his nose nudges against your clit.

"What's wrong?" he asks, catching the whimpering in your voice when he barely touched the most sensitive part of you.

You shift under Feitan's grasp on your thighs, arching your back slightly towards his face for more of his touch.

"It's all right, Angel," Feitan soothes, pecking soft and light kisses on your stomach.

You quiver from the simple actions, waiting for the moment when he will use his tongue and fingers.

"I know, Fei," you said, lacing your fingers into his dark hair.

Feitan moves down again to the most sensitive area of yours, your dripping vagina. "Let me know if I'm hurting you."

As you spoke, a quivering breath came out of your lips, and you assured him, "Fei, you never hurt me."

You cry out softly as he kisses your clit, thighs squeezing his head. You lean backward, trying to retreat from the overwhelming sensation, but Feitan does not let you go.

You cry out, 'Fei'.

"I understand, Angel," Feitan soothes. "I am here to say if it is too much."

God was being so gentle with you that it felt like you'd shatter with a single touch. His grip on your thighs slackened, a real sense that you could pull away if you wanted to. Yet he treasured it as you were so small compared to him and underneath him that he was afraid to break you.

Again, Feitan's nose brushes up against your delicate clit, and your grip on his hair tightened. A satisfied sigh seeps through him into your folds as a mewl from your full lips.

"You okay?" he asks before licking a long stripe up your folds, and you moan, your back arching, and your cunt pressing further into his face which he relished in.

You whimpered in response, trying to gather all the scattered thoughts in your mind. "Yeah, 'm am, Fei."

He loves you so much that it hurts, and your reaction makes his heart sing. His tongue climbs up from your wet hole to your clit while a moan escapes from you. Your thighs constrict onto his head because of the constriction he's causing, and as you grind down onto his face, a moan reverberates through your clit. Your lips were littered with chanting of his name, and he was reveling every second in it.

"F-feels s' good," you whine, tears spring in your lash line, he was making you feel so good.

"You're okay?" Feitan asks.

At the feeling of a finger push past your closing walls, you furiously nod your head, your eyes expand and you cry with pleasure. It felt so amazing that you never want it to end, even though you thought you would break because he was so big.

His finger pressed up against that soft spot inside your walls. Feitan was slow with his pace, curling his fingers every time he entered your cunt along with sucking and licking at your puffy, sensitive clit.

"Good, you being so good," moaned Feitan against you, refusing to rut his hips into the mattress. This was about your pleasure, not his—.

A moan arouses from you, and your hips grind themselves onto his face. He let you for once have some sort of control over the situation, and he decided if you came quicker he'll let you do it more often. "That's it," he praised.

His movements quicker, needier, as you yell his name through your broken letters, and the one hold he had on your leg tightens. The coil in your stomach tightened and your fingers wrapped around his locks to halt his movements and make him sigh deeper into your folds.

The groans only drove you over the edge, and as he pressed his tongue firmly against your clit, a muffled scream escaped your lips. Your stomach coil unwound, soaking his face clear.

He slowly drew his fingers out of your drenched pussy, and his cum spilling out from your puffy folds. Before rising his head, he places a kiss on your clit and your mewl softly in overstimulation.

"Are you okay, Angel?" he asks concerned, pecking away the tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks and to the side of your face.

You hum in pleased satisfaction as he peppers gentle and soothing kisses on your face. "I'm fine, dear," you respond.

"You did so good," Feitan praises.

You let out a tired sigh, your body aching but Fietan wasn't done yet. A trail of kisses were left all over your neck and you gasped when feeling a hot, throbbing tip at your soaked entrance. "Fei!" you moan out, overstimulated.

"I here, I got you," he reassures, a groan slipping past his mouth.

Feitan drags his length out; a breathless sigh emits from your mouth into his own, a look of relief crossing your features as you think the two of you were done. Then, in one swift motion, your head was thrown back in overstimulation and a moan strung from your mouth as his cock slides right back into your wet walls.

Feitan manages to slip out of your walls and gently flips your body onto it's stomach, your eyes were wide with surprise, not expecting a sudden change of position once again. You could feel him lift your hips and place a soft and fluffy pillow under your lower abdomen before letting your body rest fully down on it.

You then felt Feitan's mass press down against your back, and you huffed out softly at the sudden weight. His abs were flush against your back, hands gripping the backs of your own, pressing them into the bed. Feitan's breath tickled your ear as you wiggled your head at the warm sensation, core getting wetter, trying to squirm away from the imposing hold he had on you.

Feitan's hands moved in slow motion, readjusting to hold one of his hands over both of you above your head, careful not to tangle hair within the movement. A contented sigh escapes your mouth as Feitan raises his body ever so slightly, trailing his free hand down the expanse of your smooth back before his fingers meet your slick entrance that is filled with his cum from previous rounds.

Then a heavy, throbbing tip pressed against your clit, and you moaned from the small touch. You tried to squirm away from the pleasurable cause but couldn't since Feitan knew your body more than you did yourself-he knew you were gonna try to run from his body due to the pleasure. So, he pressed his weight against you once more.

You held your breath when Feitan sunk his throbbing cock into your spongey walls, his length getting squeezed by every ridge within your soaked cunt. A moan left both of your mouths the moment Feitan's length nudges the deepest spot within you.

"So good, doing good," Feitan moans, relishing in the way your walls clench him, how could he not want to cum inside, you feel so good.

The hot and heavy kisses trailed down from your ear, down to the dip of your neck to shoulder, and a breathless sigh escaped your parted lips before Feitan rolled his hips into yours. A moan slips out of your mouth as his thick length scrapes across all the sensitive parts of your warm insides.

Feitan spreads his legs apart, knees bent, so any move from you would guarantee closing the gap between them as he places you underneath him, where your beautiful body is still dwarfed by the frame. As expected, you couldn't move from his trapping embrace.

His motions quickened, his cock thrusting deeper inside your needy hole as strained moans and whines escaped your throat. Feitan panted in your ear, an odd deep groan slipping past his lips now and then-the sounds that made your cunt flutter tightly around his length.

Feitan was filling you to the hilt, his throbbing pink tip hitting that soft gummy spot inside my cunt that made me scream out in completion. "I know, my love," he breathed, making you break out into a moan and sigh as your body shook with your pleasure.

Your body tried to arch away from the pleasure, not being able to take the strong rolls of Feitan's hips, but as you arched your back away, his thrusts only aimed deeper, harder into your G spot. You sobbed out, tears filling your lash line. "B-but. Too much, Feitan. Slow down, too much."

Feitan gently shooshed you, cooing you. "It okay, I here."

The moans repeated in your voice while he pounded into your tight heat. You suddenly had this instinctive urge to press yourself against his length, but you couldn't-heavy he was, too heavy for you to move against him-and you were hopeless, utterly, as his thrusts became faster and faster.

"Please, I wanna come," you cry out mewling. "So big, you feel so big, Feitan."

Your body had shaken beneath him and the grip he had on your hands loosened. Your hips were getting held onto now, then the strength he possessed lifted you onto your knees before a bicep wrapped itself around your throat, lifting your head. It wasn't a tight hold, but the power in it lifted your head from the futon as you shakily rested your weight on your elbows.

Your back arched heavily, finally being able to sink more into him. Feitan hunched over you, pulling you closer to him and connected your mouth in a sloppy wet kiss, forcing his tongue inside your mouth, grunting into you while he swallowed your moans. "Taking me so deep," Feitan groaned, pulling away from your mouth and pushing this arch into your back deeper.

"Makin' you feel so good, ain't I?" Feitan groaned, head tilted forward, sweat beading on his forehead as we watched your fall apart and tremble from his dick, broken moans slipping past your plump lips.

"'Wanna come, please," you beg, wanting to feel the release, desperate as the tears stream down your flushed cheeks. "Want it so bad."

With a groan, his lips planted against mine once again as his hips slammed into mine hard, his cum spilling inside me, causing me to moan into his kiss. You feel more of his cum spill into your fertile womb, painting your insides white. You could almost feel your stomach bulging from how much you had of your man inside you.

Feitan slipped his softening length out and pulled away from the kiss as you slumped to the futon, his eyes chained to the white splotches of silky come that spilled from your gaping cunt, watching with a slight frown as the cum fell from your cunt.

"Fei," you huff.

"Fine, I give you break," he replies reluctantly, peppering soft kisses over your face

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | hxh m.list