Okay So I’ve Seen A Lot Of People On Here Talking About NSFR Meaning “not Safe For Ramadan” And

in your dreams | m.

pairing: xiao/f!reader

wc: 7.140

genre: smut, hurt/comfort

cw: exes to lovers

tags: past toxic relationship, alluded past abuse, blood and violence, xiaos love language is touch, soft!xiao, dom!xiao, fingering, squirting, wet&messy, spitting (lit once), reassurance kink, very mild dumbification, dacryphilia if u squint, aftercare

summary: your life had finally become normal without him. but it took one encounter to undo a millennia of hard work.

note: it isn't specified what reader is but she is not human and is very old as well as she's known xiao for a long, long time.

+ also adepti do not need sleep in this fic so!!!

this blog is a dark content blog please dni if you don't like it.

Winding up at Wangshu Inn wasn’t in your plans. Tired and worn out, a sudden thunderstorm was the final straw.

You climbed the steps of the Inn, out of breath by the time you reached the front desk. Your room was cozy for the most part, so much so that you felt out of place soaking wet and dripping onto the wooden floors.

You didn’t even have a change of clothes. You opted to shed your outermost layers, the thick material having kept your undergarments dry for the most part. Hanging up your soaking clothes, you place a towel on the floor to catch the dripping water and climb into bed.

The sound of thunder and rain lulled you into a restless nap to pass the time.

It wasn’t often that you dreamt. In fact, many years had passed since you recall dreaming. This one was particularly vivid. Featuring a face you had hoped to never see again.

The golden eyes of your ex lover sent shivers down your spine. The wind blew, tousling his hair every which way. He stared at you, regarding you with the same neutral face you’d known him to wear for all of his existence.

Still as cold as ever, he didn’t speak.

Just as you opened your mouth to say something first, you jolt awake.

You frown and sit up in bed, the sheets falling around your waist haphazardly. Running a hand through your hair, you wince as your fingers catch the tangles.

“I see you still enjoy sleeping...like some kind of human,” the familiar voice has you gasping, whipping around to look at where the voice came from.

He leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes are closed, almost as if he were tired but you know that’s not the case.

You scoff, “I knew you were here. Awfully bold of you...sneaking into my dream like that.”

He doesn’t say anything more. It’s silent after that, save or the lightning striking the ground occasionally, mixed with the white noise of raindrops.

“Why are you here Xiao?” you finally ask, knowing that beating around the bush will get you nowhere with him.

“Why are you here?” he retorts, finally opening his eyes to glare at you, “You knew I was staying in this Inn yet you come here anyway. But you still have the audacity to ask me why I’m here?”

“I didn’t know you were staying here,” you spit, suddenly remembering you’re in only your bra and panties. You casually pull the sheet back up to cover yourself.

“That’s a lie,” he scoffs, finally pushing himself away from the wall, “Are you that desperate for my attention that you come crawling back to me under the guise of a mistake in hopes I’ll take you back? Pathetic.”

His words sting just as much as the tears filling your eyes, “No,” you spit, tossing the sheet off so you could get out of bed, “I was worn out and got caught in the storm. If you must know, I didn’t know you were here because frankly I avoid learning anything about your whereabouts!”

His eyes follow you as you tug your still wet clothing down from where it was hanging. Its freezing cold against your warm skin and makes you flinch as you begin to put it on.

“Where are you going?” he asks, voice sharp as ever.

“I’m leaving!” you snap, ignoring the way your voice cracks from your tears.

He scoffs, “Of course you are, all you do is run away.”

“You don’t get to say that to me!” you whip around suddenly, “When you’re the one who ran away in the first place!”

He bares his teeth, “I didn’t run from anything. Instead I got rid of something.”

His eyes narrow and you take a moment to look into them. Eyes you once loved held no softness or light that they once had. You barely remember those times, instead all you remember is the hurt.

You don’t have it in you to speak anymore. Everything that needed to be said had already been spoken. Whether it be now or in the past, there was nothing else to say.

He didn’t flinch as you walked past him, shoulder bumping into him as you headed to the door.

“Make sure you don’t come back here,” he spits the final, parting warning.

You pick up your pack and sling it over your shoulder, opening the door and leaving.

When you’re finally gone, he takes a seat on the bed and sighs, eyes unfocused as they stared into nothing. Lost in thought, he doesn’t know how long he sits there for.

The rain doesn’t show any signs of letting up as you continue on your journey. You don’t have any real need for sleep but your body feels worn, overexerted. You do your best to bypass monsters that lurk around, knowing you don’t have the strength to defend yourself.

Any strength you had had been stripped from you the moment you were confronted with Xiao.

His words hurt just as much as they had a millenia ago. The new, negative feelings festered along with the brought up memories of once upon a time.

He always knew just what to say to you. The two of you had known each other perhaps too well. It had allowed him to see every weak spot you had, he had learned exactly what to push to hurt you most. And he always succeeded.

Xiao’s past was not one that was happy. It was filled with pain, anger, and bloodshed. Much of it by his own hands, actions that haunted him. He had been so consumed by it all that he lost control, becoming a volatile nightmare that only sought to hurt and destroy.

And that is exactly what he did.

There hadn’t been a single ounce of hesitation in the words he’d spewed at you. Hands you once loved holding raised in aggression, laughing at the misery that had been painted on your face. You had been scared of him and yet he didn’t show any regret.

It had been naive of you to try to get him back at first. You were so sure that it wasn’t the real Xiao. You knew him to be a soft, gentle man. But in the blink of an eye, it was replaced with hatred and darkness.

Your attempts to redeem yourself in his eyes, to keep him by your side had been in vain. The final time you had met him, almost a millenia ago, had only ended in bloodshed and tears. He had succeeded in damaging everything you had to offer, dealing irreparable damage to your emotions.

You had vowed that you would never allow yourself to be in his presence again. You didn’t even allow yourself to hear his name, all of his tales fell on deaf ears.

The less you knew about him, the better.

It had been peaceful, not knowing of his whereabouts. You would sometimes catch yourself wondering if he was even still alive before vanquishing those thoughts. What did it matter? The man wished death upon you once, laughing all the while.

You shuddered at the memories, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself. The cold was seeping in quickly and you felt like all your energy was sucked out.

Under the heavy rainfall, and the absentmindedness of your own thoughts, you didn’t realize the man snuck up on you until you felt the knife plunge into your back.

Hands desperately cupped your cheeks. They were warm, such a contrast to your own cold skin. Your ears were ringing but when your eyes opened a fraction, you could only barely make out the darkened silhouette of a person hovering above you.

When your eyes opened once again, there was no sound. The storm had passed and you were tucked into a bed. It didn’t smell like freshly made laundry, instead it smelled familiar. Like almonds and qingxin flowers. You couldn’t help but melt into it.

After a moment, you heard the door open. It clicked shut softly, no doubt in an effort to let you continue your rest. The figure moved across the floor, footsteps light before you heard the light sound of something heavy being placed on the side table.

The person paused and you kept your eyes closed, sleep almost overcoming you once again. But the soft feeling of fingers on your cheek had you rousing once more.

You didn’t open your eyes, instead allowed the stranger to continue on. They moved away but didn’t leave the room.

Slowly, you opened your eyes.

It was dark out but the room was dimly lit by lanterns, casting a calm, yellow glow around the room. You blinked a few times to let your eyes adjust before looking around.

Your breath caught in your chest as you looked at him. He had his back to you, leaning against the wall once again. But his gaze was cast out the window, unaware of the fact you had awoken. You swallowed nervously at the sight of him, only to realize how parched you were, tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. Glancing to the side, you realized the object he had placed had been a pitcher of water. Condensation dripped down from the glass, pooling on the wooden tabletop.

You attempted to sit up, your head swimming as you did but you fought it. The bed creaked as you finally sat up, almost desperately reaching for the pitcher only to realize you had absolutely no strength to pick it up.

Familiar hands intervened, brushing yours away to lift the pitcher up, grabbing the glass he had brought along with it so he could fill it.

Your hands were reaching out for it before he could even offer it. He allowed you to take it, placing the pitcher back down once again. You brought the cup to your lips and took several large gulps before it was ripped from your hands. You gasped and looked up at Xiao to your stolen cup in his hand.

“Drink it slowly,” he orders, rough as usual, “You’ll make yourself feel worse.”

You nod your head and reach out for it again. He keeps it out of your reach, however, eyeing you as if you were plotting something. You whine and attempt to get it back once more before he finally takes pity on you and allows you to have it back.

His eyes burn into you as you take sips, keeping them slow and intermittent despite the fact your body begged for you to down it all.

“Lay back down, you’re still recovering,” he says before taking your empty glass.

You do as you’re told, hunkering back down into the soft bedding, watching him once again. He pours more water into the glass and leaves it there for you to take when you need it.

“Why am I back here?” your question makes him visibly stiffen as he places the pitcher down again.

Your eyes follow him as he moves around. You can’t tell if he’s making himself look busy to buy himself time or not. The question is answered when he returns from the wash room with a damp cloth.

He sits at the edge of the bed and begins to softly pat at your skin, cooling your skin down and making you relax. You close your eyes against the stinging burn of tears that come from his caring actions.

You don’t know what he’ll do if he realizes you’re crying.

It had been so long since you had been close to him like this. No aggressive or negative feelings weighing you both down. It had been even longer since you felt his gentle touch, a touch that didn’t have you flinching away from him.

“You almost died,” he finally says, removing himself from you.

You immediately miss him. It takes you everything not to pull him back to you, to not cry out for him not to go. But you stay silent. He is too.

You’re not sure if he realizes how close to crying you are, but he doesn’t say anything more. He doesn’t press you. You swallow the lump in your throat and open your eyes again.

He’s standing in front of the window once more. You can see his face now, the way the moonlight makes his eyes glow.

“I did?” you finally ask.

He looks at you again, a simple sideways glance before nodding, “You did.”

“I see,” you respond, looking down at your hands folded above his blanket.

You suddenly realize you’re not wearing your own clothes, instead wearing some unfamiliar ones. You don’t comment on the fact that Xiao had probably undressed you and redressed you.

You’re too busy thinking that you don’t notice the way he fists are clenched tight at his sides. His entire body is stiff and trembling, jaw clenched tight to keep the pathetic noises that want to free themselves inside.

“You almost died,” he suddenly spits, repeating his words from earlier. You pause and look up at him, the uncharacteristic emotion in his voice catching you by surprise.

Finally, you take in his disposition. His head hung low, hair veiling over his face, preventing you from seeing the expression he wore. But from the way his shoulders tremble, you’re sure he’s...crying.

“I thought you were dead,” he hisses, “You were so cold...you weren’t moving. What the hell was I supposed to do then, huh?” He’s not looking at you and you’re not sure if he’s speaking to you or monologuing. Still, you remain quiet and let him talk, “You’re not supposed to die.”

“I didn’t die,” you finally speak, making him fall silent.

“I was...scared,” he admits, so soft that you almost missed it, “I was so scared it felt like I was losing my mind.”

“Xiao…”

“No,” he snaps, finally looking at you. His eyes are glassy, tears clinging to his lashes and the sight makes your heart ache, “How could I have ever...What would I have done if you died? What if you died...and all you remember of me was...the hatred and anger?”

“Is that not what you feel towards me?” you ask softly, “I can’t say I remember the time before you hated me anymore. I don’t know if I even want to. It’s so much easier knowing you hate me now, than remembering that you once loved me.”

“Love,” he whispers, making your brows furrow in confusion, “Don’t say it like I don’t anymore.”

“Xiao…” you sigh, shaking your head, “You don’t have to feel guilty. Truly, it doesn’t bother me anymore.”

He takes a few steps towards the bed until he’s standing right in front of you. You don’t dare look at him but he reaches down and touches your cheek with gentle fingers, “Then why are you crying?”

You scoff, “Why are you crying?”

“Because I know I’m not strong enough to keep this going,” he admits, “I’ve spent so long remembering everything I did to you. Everything I said to you...years upon years of guilt and regret. I tried so hard to pretend like I didn’t search everywhere for you. When I was finally freed of those shackles, when I was finally...faced with everything I had done...I looked for you. But you had already gone.”

“You wanted me gone,” you spit, knowing how bitter you were beginning to sound, “Don’t you remember what you told me?”

“Every word,” he breathes, hand returning to your person to pet your hair, “I’ve spent every moment of my life remembering. I didn’t have any control of who I was back then, ______,” The sound of your name falling from his lips has a sob breaking free from your chest, “I’ll never be who I was before everything. I carry these sins upon me as I deserve to. But I will never be the man who hurt and scared you again.”

You feel him tug you forward, burying your face against his chest as he cups the back of your head. His chin rests atop your head and you cry. He lets you exhaust yourself, lets out a deep sigh when you finally wrap your arms around his middle.

He holds you, allows you to ask him questions before answering with a gentleness he hadn’t allowed himself in what felt like eons. He told you his story, explained every detail of his life, of the dark past, of the vile atrocities that he had been forced to commit against his will.

You listened, heart aching at the pain he had to endure for so long. He was jaded, scarred and burnt from his past. It haunted him so deeply, actions he could never atone for weighed on him as heavy burdens.

“If you’ll let me…” he whispers into your hair, “I just...if I can have one thing in the end...I want you.”

“You’ve done so much,” you reply, “To repay the debt and to protect...and you really just want me?”

“More than anything,” he replies, not hesitation.

You pull away from his embrace and he allows you, meeting your gaze with utmost sincerity. You can see it in the way his eyes shine with hope, searching yours for an answer.

The easiest way to answer him is by cupping his cheek and pressing your lips to his.His entire body relaxes and his hands return to your person, gripping you tight as if you were going to slip away. He kisses you back, every emotion he feels being poured into it.

You tangle your hands in his hair and pull him down. He catches himself on his hands, framed on either side of you. Pulling away from the kiss, you chase him and he sighs.

“You’re still recovering, I don’t want you to get hurt,” he breathes.

You whine and shake your head, reaching out to touch him, “Please, Xiao? ‘M okay, I promise.”

He still hesitates and you decide to take it a bit further to entice him. You reach down for the hem of your shirt and carefully pull it off. When you can see again, Xiao’s eyes are burning as he stares at your body.

“God…” he breathes, resting his forehead against your shoulder, peering down your body as his hands begin to venture across your skin, “Just like I remember…”

His breath comes in pants, smoothing his thumbs over your ribs before he finally cups your breasts. You whine at the feeling and arch your back but he’s quick to click his tongue, “Stay still or I stop.”

You go limp at the threat of him stopping. Instead you reach up and wrap your hands around his biceps. He pulls his head from your shoulder and leans back over you properly to kiss you again.

You whine into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck to hold him close. He allows it with no complaint, simply continues palming your breasts, thumbing over your nipples. You swear you feel him smile when your whole body trembles at the feeling.

“Xiao…” you whimper, moving your hands from around his neck. He sits up, resting back on his heels to run his hands down your body.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even react to your call of his name. Instead he shifts so he can tear the blanket from your body. You squeak when you’re finally completely exposed, tits bare and your bottom half just the same.

You feel your face flush hot, quickly closing your thighs and curling them in on yourself. Xiao clicks his tongue once more at the display of shyness, hands coming to grip your knees.

“Why are you hiding from me?” he asks, voice gruff with lust, “Won’t you let me see all of you?”

“Y-You’ve still got all your clothes on,” you mutter, looking to the side so he can’t see how flustered you are.

He regards you for a moment, memories bouncing around in his head. Memories of you and him. The first time you let him touch you all the way to the last time he’d ever touched you. Both had such contrasting emotions to them. He wonders if you think the same -- if you remember that time. How you had cried, how he had made you cry.

“I’ll take them off later,” he whispers and you finally look at him.

His eyes are locked on his hands, where they rest on your knees. His brows are furrowed, as if lost in thought and you have half a mind to question him on it. But you choose not to. Instead, despite the trepidation you feel at being so vulnerable in front of him again, you let your legs fall open.

He inhales sharply through his nose, a noise of surprise and approval. His eyes lock onto your cunt, folds glistening from how wet you already are for him. He mindlessly licks his lips, one hand trailing down your inner thigh -- slow, as if he’s waiting for you to stop him at any minute. But you don’t of course, you want him so much. You have no idea how long you had been craving the familiar, loving touch he once had. But now that you’re reminded of the tenderness he once displayed, you desperately want to feel it again.

“Pretty,” he mutters under his breath when his digits finally meet your folds, which he eagerly spreads open with two nimble fingers.

It makes you squeak and hide your face in embarrassment as he analyzes you, takes in every detail. The way your entrance clenches every so often, drooling your sweet juices, to your little clit that throbs and begs for his attention.

He’s more than willing to give it.

Collecting the slick at your entrance with his thumb, he drags it up to the tender little bud. The sound you make when he finally presses his thumb against it is heaven. His own mouth falls open in wonder as he makes soft, slow circles. Your thighs tremble and your hands mindlessly grapple for whatever they can, which happens to be his bedding and thigh. Though your nails bite into his skin, he pays it absolutely no mind. He’s entranced by how messy your cunt becomes in a matter of seconds. Such a simple touch has your body responding beautifully.

He briefly wonders if you’d ever been with anyone else. He certainly hasn’t. Did you make such a mess for those you had bedded? His jaw clenches at the possessive feeling that overcomes him.

Unlike in the past, it’s not a toxic feeling. It isn’t one that scares him, instead it has him leaning down to press his lips against the soft skin of your stomach. You’re his now. You’re his once again. That’s all that matters.

He trails his lips up your body, now using two fingers to play with your clit. He doesn’t want the sweet sounds you make to stop.

Once he reaches your breast, he eagerly wraps his lips around your nipple. You cry out immediately, hands tangling into his hair. He hums at the feeling and your whole body twitches.

“Xiao…” you gasp, one hand leaving his hand to reach between your body. He continues to mouth at your breast, humming when your hand gingerly wraps around his wrist, “Want more, please…”

His eyes nearly roll back in his head at the sweet sound of you begging. He finally pulls his mouth away and looks at you, eyes sharp as ever, “Tell me what you want.”

He can feel it, of course. The way your pretty hands desperately push on is fingers, all he’d have to do is slide them in. You mindlessly rut your hips against the digits and he growls.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay still?”

“‘M sorry,” you gasp, “Please don’t stop, Xiao. Want it.”

He bites back a groan. You’re just as sweet and pliant as he remembers. The almost blind trust you have in him not to hurt you has him flooding with emotion.

“What do you want? Say it,” he orders, voice much softer than before.

“Put them…” you press his fingers against your entrance and whine, “Inside. Please?”

He’s not prepared for the way you so greedily accept them. You gummy walls stretch so easily to accommodate him. You’re already dripping down his hand. He moves his fingers slowly, watching your face intently as you adjust to being filled.

Your lashes flutter and you sigh almost as if you’re breathless before your eyes open again and you meet his gaze. He sees the bashfulness return but before you can cower away, he crooks his fingers up and finds your spot as if he had it memorized after all these years.

And truthfully, he had. There had been many nights that he had been plagued by memories of your body, of touching you. No one had ever made him feel the way you do.

“Xiao!” you squeal, hands slamming down on the bed as your legs kick almost helplessly under the onslaught of pleasure.

“Mhm?” he hums, pinning one of your thighs down with his free hand to keep you nice and spread open for him. His eyes are glued to where your cunt swallows his fingers greedily.

“Right there, please,” you gasp, shamelessly whining and begging.

He huffs a laugh through his nose, “So noisy.”

“‘M, ah, ‘m sorry,” you babble, “Feels so good.”

He loves how responsive you are, how sensitive you are. The way you tell him what it is you’re feeling, how he’s making you feel, makes him painfully hard. But he’s not willing to move on from this just yet, he wants to be greedy for once. He wants to take everything you’re willing to give him.

Your cunt flutters around his fingers and he allows himself to moan softly at the feeling. He knows you must be close, your little tells hadn’t changed after all this time. The way your thighs jump and tremble to the way your hot little cunt gets so messy. You’re creaming around his digits, he can see the way white slicks his knuckles.

You’re muttering nonsense, feet kicking the bed helplessly. He wants to chastise you for moving around so much but he knows you can’t help it. With how tight you squeeze around his fingers, he knows you’re dangling precariously over the edge.

All you need is a final push. The fact that you need him to send you over, need him to do something for you to cum is a rush.

You watch with wide eyes as he puckers his lips suddenly and noisily spits on your cunt. It lands on your clit and in seconds, his thumb is rubbing it in.

The entire thing is too much and you cum with a breathless cry. His arm pins your hips down, keeping you from moving around too much as you thrash, cumming nice and hard for him as he works you through the high. He slides his fingers out and lightly circles your clit, easing you down as you shudder and whimper before finally falling still.

You’re panting by the time he removes himself from you, allowing you to close your thighs as the feeling of vulnerability washes over you again.

He can feel your eyes on him as he stands. Suddenly, you’re sitting up and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Hey--” he’s ready to force you to lay back down, eyeing the burning scar on your back but he’s cut off by you tugging at him.

“Don’t go,” you whimper and he softens immediately, running his hand through your hair.

“I’m not,” he responds quickly but you still don’t let him go.

He opts to begin stripping himself despite the fact you’re still clinging. Once his upper half is bared, you look up with wide eyes. He can see the way they sparkle at the sight of him and he nearly melts.

Cupping your cheek, he pulls you in for a kiss, allowing you to tug at the materials adorning his waist until he’s finally as bare as you. Keeping you locked in a kiss, he carefully lays you back down in bed, cupping the back of your head as he does so.

He easily handles your body, pulling your thighs open again so he can slot himself between them. Your knees press into his ribs and you cling to him once more, as if you really believe he’s just going to leave you.

“‘S okay,” he breathes softly, pecking your lips a few times, “‘M not leavin’...”

His words begin to slur together the further he gets dragged down into the lust. He ruts his ips forward and you both sigh when the underside of his cock finds your core. His hips work slow, passing over your folds as he slicks himself up with the mess he’d forced out of you. Every time he grinds against your clit you whimper into his mouth, thighs jumping at the overstimulation.

It makes him want to tease you, to torture your poor, sensitive little cunt and to hear you cry out for mercy as he forces you to cum over and over for him.

But that would have to wait for another time. Right now, he wants nothing more than to be with you, to indulge in your love.

You reach down before he has the chance to, wrapping your hand around the base of him. He pecks your lips again before he looks down, allowing you to guide him inside.

You stretch to accommodate him, the width wider than his fingers had stretched you. But the burn feels deliciously familiar. You keen and whine the further he pushes inside.

He watches how more and more of him disappears, groaning at the feeling of you pulsing hot around him. Before he bottoms out, he suddenly pulls his hips back until just the head is left. His length is glistening from how wet you are.

“So messy,” he spits softly, licking his lips at the sight.

“Mhm,” you whine, hands grabbing at his biceps on either side of your head, “‘S for you.”

Your little confession has him cursing under his breath, sheathing himself inside you in one smooth roll of his hips. As his hips meet yours, you let out a sweet cry that he eagerly swallows as he kisses you.

“‘S mine,” he whispers against your lips. You nod and whimper as he fucks you in earnest.

Though Xiao can keep his touches and kisses soft, as soon as his cock is inside you, he can’t help but use you however he wants. You always love it, however, the way his cock has your mind going blank is otherworldly.

Though you had never had any other lover, you knew that you would always be ruined for anyone else. No one would ever make you feel the way he did, the way he so easily made you cum undone. The soft, filthy words he whispers to himself, as if you’re not even listening. Hissing vulgar things through clenched teeth, like your cunt makes him go feral.

“So tight,” he mutters, eyes still locked onto where the two of you are connected. It’s like he’s entranced, hypnotized.

“Xiao!” you cry out, tossing your head back, “‘M close, please, jus’ a lil more!”

He huffs, changing the angle of his hips just a bit. You squeal, knees knocking against his sides as you begin to squirm.

“Too much!” you cry out, hands pressing against his chest as your body is racked with stimulation.

“You can take it,” he huffs, grappling your wrists in one hand to pin them above your head.

He uses the leverage to fuck that spot harder. Every time he sinks in, he rolls his hips, making sure to grind against your clit. Tears build up in your eyes as you sob, entire body trembling but unable to get away from it as he pins you down with his body.

“Cum,” he orders breathlessly.

And you do.

He groans at the feeling of you squeezing around him tighter than ever. He slows the movements of his hips, the tightness making it difficult for him to keep his pace. He rocks mindlessly into you as you tremble and cry through the intense orgasm.

Before you can recover, he’s releasing your hands and sitting up, gripping you beneath the knees before pinning them to your chest. Neither of you care about your injury, you don’t even feel anything but pleasure anymore.

“No, no, Xiao!” you sob, remembering all too well the damage he can cause in this position.

He shushes you and presses down on the back of your thighs, pulling out until just the tip is inside. You hold your breath, eyes wide as he simply fucks the tip in and out.

You wait for the inevitable, biting your lip as you tremble. He waits for you to release the breath you’re holding. Though he’s not looking at you, he pays attention to every minute detail about you.

When you finally let out that soft little exhale, he swings his hips down, sheathing his cock inside. Your legs kick in his hand and your hands slap helplessly against him but he pays it no mind. He continues pulling his cock out before quickly stuffing you nice and full again.

“‘S too much!” you sob, tears trickling down your cheeks. He ignores your weak complaints, knowing you want it just as much as him, “I-I’ll make a mess! Xiao!”

He groans at your warning and nods his head, “Touch yourself.”

It’s a cruel little command that you can’t help but obey. He can see your hand is trembling as you reach down to swirl timid little circles around your clit. He watches, bottom lip caught between his teeth at the sight. Your walls hug him tight as you continue the circles in time to the deep, penetrating intrusion of his cock.

“Xiao--” you gasp, quickly abandoning your task to press your hands against his hips.

“Stop pushing me away,” he spits, slapping your hands off of him.

“It’s too much!” you repeat your complaint.

He huffs, “You can take it. You’re almost there.”

He meets your gaze after a moment, taking in the wide eyed, open mouthed look on your face. The pressure in your core intensifies and your whole body begins to tremble. Your hands return to his body, though they wrap around his biceps once again, nails biting into the skin. You leave red lines across the green of his tattoo. He hisses at the pain but it doesn’t deter him.

Though your eyes are open, he’s sure you’re not seeing anything but stars.

“You’re gonna cum,” he mumbles, he takes one of your hands and laces your fingers together.

You blink up at him and sob his name. He softly shushes you, tenderly kissing your forehead as if his cock wasn’t stuffing you full.

“‘S okay,” he whispers into your hair, “C’mon, give it to me.”

You cry out his name again, your free arm wrapping around his neck, scratching his back. He’s panting, growing close to his own end quickly.

“I know,” he whispers, knowing you’re overstimulated and wound too tight. The way you cling to him as if he’s a lifeline has him pressing the softest of kisses against your skin, squeezing your hand between his, lacing your fingers together. A reminder that he’s there to ground you, that he’s with you, he’ll get you through it. You just need to let go.

You go completely still for a split second before your back arches. He slips his arm beneath your back to hold you close, supporting you as you thrash and cry. You bury your face in his neck, muffling the lewd noises in his skin. Your hands grab onto any part of him that you can as he continues the same, brutal pace of fucking you.

“Ah!” you squeal, your orgasm dragging out for much longer, only growing in intensity.

He can feel it. The way you squirt, gushing around his pistoning cock. Every movement has you gushing over and over again, wetting not only your skin, but his and the bedding as well. Neither of you can be bothered to care about it, however.

“That’s it,” he coos, finally slowing after a moment.

Your entire body is trembling, harder than you had all night. He pulls himself away from you despite your desperate cry. He folds you back into the previous position and you sob, shaking your head.

He shushes you, the same as he had been all night, “‘S my turn,” he assures.

You relax into the bed, arms dropped on either side of your head. You watch him through lidded eyes as he begins to rock into you once more. He avoids grinding himself against your clit when he sinks inside, knowing it would, in fact, be too much for you right now.

He looked down at where you were connected.

Strings of your slick connected your skin and his every time he pulled back. Your cunt was puffy, clit throbbing in the aftershocks of the intense orgasm. A ring of white was at the base of his cock, a symbol of just how hard you had cum.

The mess you’d created made his cock throb. You were such a good girl, so sweet for him. He looked back up at your face, at the dreamy look on your face and he groaned.

“So pretty,” he whispers, his own blunt nails biting into the underside of your thighs.

You whine at the pain but make no complaints. He has half a mind to feel embarrassed as you watch him cum. Your hand reaches down to caress his chest and stomach as you feel him pulse inside you, the warmth of his cum filling you up.

You sigh, a happy sound that makes his heart warm.

Pulling out of you, you wince at the feeling of his cum dripping from you but neither of you comment on it. Instead, he leans back over you and presses his lips to yours once more.

Your hand tangles in his hair and he sighs, allowing you to hold him and cling to him for a moment. He feels you shiver and frowns, watching as goosebumps rise over your skin.

Suddenly, too sudden for your liking, he pulls away. You squeeze your thighs closed and subconsciously cover your breasts with your hands, watching as he climbs off of the bed.

He takes the rag he had used earlier to wipe your skin, to clean the mess that covered him.

You can feel your heart hammering so loud it makes your ears ring. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even acknowledge you as he moves around the room, slipping his clothes back on --though without all the accessories.

He runs a hand through his hair, straightening himself out before he heads to the door. You sit up quickly, eyes wide as you watch him open it. Before you can call out to him, he’s shutting the door behind him.

You’re left alone and feel a deep ache in your chest. You let yourself fall back into the bed, ignoring the soreness of your body as you tug the cover over yourself. The silence of the room is deafening, but before long it's filled with your sad, pathetic sniffles.

Mentally, you shame yourself for being so foolish. Even after so many years, you were just as naive as before. You can’t actually believe you’d been stupid enough to allow yourself to believe any of it was real. You’d gotten a taste of him once more, and now you were being punished for being so greedy.

It hurt to think that, just for a moment, you remembered what it was like to be loved by him.

You were so lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear the door open again. You also didn’t hear his weary sigh.

He moved around the room, glancing at you curled up on the bed, assuming you had fallen asleep. His own mind was abuzz, processing everything. It was easy to fall into the rhythm, no matter how long it had been since he performed it.

He knew you liked a nice, soft cloth to clean you up. The harshness of a normal cloth was too much given how sensitive you always were afterwards. You would also no doubt be craving some water -- though he made tea for you instead. He wasn’t quite sure what you enjoyed about it so much, but he was more than willing to indulge.

When he finally moved to the bed, he sat down, placing the cloth and bowl of warm water on the table. He turned to you and tugged at the sheet, making you gasp. You looked over your shoulder and he frowned at the sight of your tears.

His heart lurched in his chest -- worry that he did something wrong, that he hurt you, or even that maybe you were feeling regret in accepting him back.

“Y-You’re back?” you ask it, sounding so pitifully broken that he can’t help but pull you into his lap.

You’re easily adjusted, allowing him to lean back on the headrest with you curled into his body, still sniffling and crying.

“Did you think I left?” he asks softly, petting your hair.

You solemnly nod and he sighs, “I’m sorry I just...I want to believe that you...But I…”

“It’s okay,” he assures, “I haven’t earned your trust back. But I will.”

“Xiao…” you whisper, looking up at him.

“Let’s just get you cleaned up, alright?” you nearly start crying when you see he had gathered everything he would have back then.

BY the time you’re clean and curled up in bed, you’re exhausted. The tea had made you nice and warm and as you snuggled against his chest, you began to doze. Though you didn’t particularly need sleep, your injury had weakened you enough to warrant it lest you get worse.

Xiao’s body is worn but he chooses to lay there in the darkness of the bedroom. He stares at the ceiling, listening to the sound of your breathing. He desperately wants to close his eyes and, for once, sleep as well. Just so he can experience sleeping with you again.

But he can’t bring himself to. He’s terrified that if he opens his eyes, you’ll be gone and nothing will have changed. He’s not sure if he would survive if all of this had been a dream.

So he stays awake until he’s sure.

seita © 2020 | all content and its rights belong to me. do not modify or repost

sincerely not | season one

↳ gojou satoru x f!reader

— series masterlist

summary. with an arranged marriage set in place, the sacred bond is doomed with a wife who wants to make the relationship work and a husband who’s ready to ruin it all. unbeknown to him, a tragic fate already lies within the pages of his romance book.

genre. heavy angst, arranged marriage, ceo au, 18+

word count. 213k

fic warnings. mean!gojo, VERY OOC, adultery/infidelity, profanity, explicit smut, violence, emotional trauma/physical abuse from past experiences, neglect, heavy family drama, illnesses, classism, pregnancy, undertones of masochism, undertones of manipulation, abandonment issues, overall toxic relationships, graphic depictions of self-harm, suicide/murder (and attempts thereof), minor character death, plot loosely based on twotm & tre. please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.

fic art + playlist + gallery + faqs + ko-fi + misc + podcast feature

one + two + three + four + five + six + seven + eight + nine + ten + eleven + twelve + thirteen + fourteen + fifteen + sixteen + seventeen + eighteen + nineteen + twenty (final) + sequel

status: completed

all rights reserved © 2021 saintobio. please do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works in any platform.

👏🏾Education 👏🏾is 👏🏾a 👏🏾right,👏🏾 not👏🏾 a👏🏾 service 👏🏾

Pass along and use the shit out of them

u gotta be mature enough to understand that u also have some toxic traits, it’s not always the other person.

Art Disclaimer: Please do not take the photo and repost. Feel free to reblog though. Commissioned jfairuz for this one. It’s so, so pretty. 

The Ruthless Prince Masterlist 

 Genshin Royal AU - Scaramouche x fem!reader

Summary: When Prince Scaramouche picks you out of a random group of commoners to marry, your life is turned upside down. He’s mean, snarky, condescending and he doesn’t act like a proper husband or prince at all. However, when Prince Tartaglia from the neighbouring kingdom takes an interest in you, Prince Scaramouche finds himself even more annoyed than usual. This is the story of him and you navigating this roller coaster of a relationship.

Chapter 1 - You’re Marrying Me, That’s Final!

Chapter 2 - Social Pretense

Chapter 3 - Can I Understand Him?

Chapter 4 - Pet Wife

Chapter 5 - Enter Prince Tartaglia

Chapter 6 - Just the Beginning

Chapter 7 - To My Heart

Chapter 8 - Where is This Anger Coming From?

Chapter 9 - Secrets

Chapter 10 - Resurface

Chapter 11 - Don’t Touch What’s Mine

Chapter 12 - Truce

Chapter 13 - New Rules

Chapter 14 - Happy Birthday?

Chapter 15 - check back later

Pain

starting a new thread since the other was getting quite long hehe

thank you for the tag @sugawara-sweetheart

NO CHEATING: you’re starring in a movie with the last person saved in your camera roll and the last song you listened to is the title. Who/what is it?

hmmm...interesting 🤔 but Hirooooo 💕

tagging @kiyoo-omi @mintmatcha @saetyrn9 @myelocin and whoever else who wants to play!

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 !

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

you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, kinda slowburn, angst to eventual fluff, divorce, marriage of convenience, heavy pining (from gojo's part), childhood friends trope, mentions of infidelity, misogyny, infertility, explicit smut

note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress (but i promise you, it's different). my god, for the past month this is all i can think about *sobs* wc. 10.5k ! this is the longest thing i've ever posted here, and if you'd give it a chance, then i'll be really, really thankful!

credit header goes to @/gojokko in twitter!

next. the crown of diamonds | long live the empire

general masterlist | series masterlist

“I accept the divorce.”

Your perfect life was done for. Everything you had worked hard towards— it was now in shambles and tatters.

You, an ethereal, revered empress... someone untarnished in the face of public and private, had just agreed to the emperor’s blatant request of separation.

“My god... how can this be!?”

“Your Majesty! Please reconsider!”

Emperor Zen’in Naoya of the Eastern Empire, your husband—and companion for more than ten years—smirked as he looked down at you, paying zero attention to the uproar in this courthouse.

But then you heard that kind, velvety voice from the back of your head:

“If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”

This place has turned into a whopping circus ever since you and Naoya stepped inside anyway. And so, having nothing worthy left to lose, you declared, “And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage.”

Your boldness once again stirred a wave of clamor among the crowd, and even Naoya was glaring at you in disbelief now. “A remarriage…? How dare you—!”

“Well... is it the time for my grand entrance?”

Deep from behind the curtains, suddenly he emerged, dressed in the most lavish robes befitting his own throne, outshining everyone in the room as if he was the one owning the place.

“Heh.” His low chuckle stunned even the mass as he took big strides towards where you were.

This would seal your fate. From now onwards, you would no longer be the perfect empress. Your messy divorce and remarriage will relegate that image to history.

“My goodness, that’s…” the woman in the front gasped. “Western Empire’s…”

“Gojo… Satoru?” Naoya's eyes lit with genuine fury as the other man took his place by your side. “You couldn't possibly mean…!”

You interrupted him regally. “Yes, he is the man I wish to remarry.”

This event was going to blow up tomorrow, with scandalous titles no less than The Deposed Empress Remarries! And there was no going back, ever.

How did your pristine life turn into such a shameful debacle? None of these turn of events would be imaginable for you several years prior...

SATORU, THE CROWN PRINCE OF WESTERN EMPIRE

To Satoru, you were more than just the east’s breathtaking empress—you had captured his attention long before you ascended to that role.

Seven years ago, you were the renowned noble lady, the paragon of perfection sought after by many lords and monarchs alike.

You were both cunning and fair, pretty in the face, came from an illustrious family known for birthing famous empresses in either western and eastern empires. You were the quintessential template that mothers advised their sons to seek in a wife.

The fairest in the land—that was how people called you. And Gojo Satoru is always and only interested in the best.

“Suguru... look at her.” His eyes would soften at the sight of you as he nudged at his closest ally and confidant, the duke. “She is so... pretty, isn’t she?”

Unfortunately, you had been promised to the Eastern Empire’s crown prince from a long time ago too. There was little that the outsiders, including himself—even if he was the heir apparent to his own throne—could do to sway your heart.

“There's more to women than their faces, Satoru,” Suguru sighed, thinking that what he had was a mere lust. “Moreover, she’s engaged to the Zen’in... and they have a very good relationship. Nothing you can do about that.”

“Hmph.”

To be honest, he couldn’t fathom what you could possibly like about that murderous Zen’in spawn. He was a pompous human being, no less.

How on earth could you stand someone like that? Satoru had always wondered… especially when it was well-known to the land that you and him were on good terms despite your arranged marriage.

—and once, he thought he knew who you are…

. . .

Satoru swallowed the bitterness rising in his throat as he attended the royal wedding of you and Zen’in Naoya. Despite hating the circumstances, he had to admit it was a fairytale wedding—albeit with the wrong groom.

You were the epitome of picture book princess. In his eyes, and in the eyes of the attendees of your wedding.

Oh, and he made headlines too, that day—

“My princess, may I have this dance?”

Two hours hadn’t even passed by after you swore your vows as Naoya’s bride, and there he was, asking for your first dance, in your own wedding ball, right in front of your newly wedded husband.

Everyone bet on you turning him down and making a fool of himself, but instead, to spare his feelings, you put your delicate hand in his, and with a wide, shy smile, you said, “Yes.”

Satoru thought it was his greatest achievement then. To have made Naoya red-faced, to have made him watch as he put his hands on your waist, twirl you around— and come one breath away from your face.

“Princess, you’re…” his breath caught as he pulled you close, staring straight at your face—and suddenly he felt like life was so unfair to him as the slow melody of waltz was all he could hear.

How could you be this close... and yet so far by being somebody else’s wife?

And yet he forced the words out, with sincerity he had never showed anyone else before, even as his heart bled and shattered. “You’re so incredibly beautiful.”

Your eyes widened, sparkling with wonder, before you thanked him with the loveliest of smiles. “Thank you. You’re too kind.”

Satoru was certain... you had ruined him, because no one else would ever be able to turn his world with just a smile like you did, even as you broke his heart too into a million pieces.

. . .

Ever since that day, everyone had branded him as a prince in search of scandal—coveting the princess married to Zen’in clan.

What everyone didn’t know was that it went beyond that. His obsession of you went beyond your beauty and charms and wits. Rather, it goes a long way back.

YOU, THE CROWN PRINCESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE

As inconceivable as it was, once upon a time, you and Naoya were a truly, happy couple.

Handpicked by the late emperor to become his son’s wife, you couldn’t be more proud. With you being the next empress of the Eastern Empire, your clan once again proved itself that it was always worthy of a seat in the monarchy.

But beyond that, you were elated that it was Naoya that you ended up marrying. Your own childhood friend, who often led you around his palace by hand and filled your days with many joy and laughs.

“One day soon, when we are the emperor and the empress—” younger Naoya was always someone who had big dreams about ruling his nation. “We will create a nation in which no one can do anything as they please! We’ll establish order, and anyone who goes against it will be punished! That way, it’ll encourage fairness!”

Not knowing it yourself, you had given your heart wholly to him. You had agreed to all his dreams and visions. You devoted yourself to them all, even more so after your marriage and coronation, as he promised you an ever after.

“From now on, it’s going to be me and you, Empress.”

YOU, THE EMPRESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE

“Your role is to give an heir to the throne, Empress.”

Your title had never sounded so heavy to you before now, especially when Naoya was the one saying it.

You sighed, gathering your wits and scattered feelings before levelling your calm gaze on your husband. “I understand that, Your Majesty. But it is not something that I can do on my own.”

This year would mark the fifth year of your marriage to Naoya. You understood that the fact you still weren’t able to be with his child would raise questions from the court, but still, must you be reminded of this fact over and over?

Your husband—no, the emperor—barked a satire laugh.

“Oh, really? As I understand it, being infertile is not something I can help you with.”

That hurt. It was a searing pain, like being branded with a red-hot iron. And it felt as if he had torn through your chest with his fist alone.

“I’m not infertile.” Your eyes gleamed with pure defiance as you lifted your chin, facing him in his audience chamber.

It dawned on you that lately, one of the few ways you could speak to him was by requesting an audience as opposed to your usual midnight talks in your private chambers.

When did it start to change? Or was Naoya this kind of person right from the very beginning and you were just blinded by love back then?

"Oh? And what would you call being childless for five years then?" Naoya sneered at you from his dais, placing one hand on his jaw. "Bad luck? You must be terribly cursed with misfortune then."

You fisted your dress, summoning all your strength to hold back tears. Don't you dare cry. Not in front of him.

It wasn't as if you didn't want to carry his heir. For many women, holding their baby in their arms is a cherished dream, and when they hold a position of power like yours, it becomes not just a desire but a duty.

You tried everything—calling in the best doctors, consuming horrible potions, even consulting with the oracle. And they all said you were perfectly healthy and fine. You were at your wits end too.

The irony. You were celebrated in public for your competence, while privately, you suffered your husband's cold detachment and cruel remarks.

. . .

"Empress, where should we put the welcome gifts?"

You studied the floor plan of the banquet hall for your annual New Year's ball with a thoughtful hum before pointing at the entrance.

"Place it here. We want our guests to know that we are generous, and it's easily accessible since the parlor is the first area they reach after arriving."

You loved planning festivities. It was therapeutic in a way, and it gave you little time to think of anything else.

"Oh, and I want to have a welcome arch and flowers placed at the entrance too. This is the grandest event of the year, second only to the Emperor's birthday... we must display the grandeur that befits such an occasion."

Your head maidservant, Hanabi, placed a hand on her abdomen and nodded with a warm smile. "That's a very clever suggestion, Your Majesty! I'll ensure they arrange everything just as you wish!"

As she scurried away, you watched her with an assessing gaze. Hanabi had been with you throughout the five years of your marriage, always at your side, assisting with day-to-day matters and serving as your confidant. She was a great aide.

And you were observant by nature... so of course you noticed things.

...and if you were correct, then she was most definitely with a child.

The thing is... she is unmarried. You hesitated to jump to conclusions without evidence, yet the timing struck you as more than coincidental—it nagged at you for weeks now, suggesting a connection you hoped did not exist.

Because if they really did... then...

You didn't dare to think, because it would be more than a nightmare. But you weren't able to let this go either, so you did what was necessary.

You planted a note in Hanabi's chamber, and then you waited in the gardens, the chilly midnight air wrapping around you like a shroud.

You had done everything you could. Five years ago, you let go of everything and had decided to spend your life with your first love—Naoya.

Because you truly and devotedly love him. You give your all for him—for your life together.

"Ooh, Your Majesty~! It's so cold out here, why not in our usual—"

Hanabi's voice faltered as soon as she saw your crimson gown, feeling like the world had collapsed on her. And you rigidly turned towards her, feeling more or less the same.

And yet, what you had received from him is the greatest betrayal.

SATORU, THE EMPEROR OF THE WESTERN EMPIRE

He first realized something was clearly wrong with you during the New Year’s ball that you hosted.

Satoru had just been crowned emperor during this time, and though rulers typically sent envoys to such grand celebrations due to concurrent festivities in their own lands, it had been several months since he last saw you. He wants to see you.

A meritless action, but he wanted to, regardless.

But that day, you were a fantastic actress in this stage called banquet hall and nobody was the wiser… but he would know, because you mattered a lot to him.

"Your Majesty, you don't seem well." He approached you with a glass of champagne, affixing a friendly smile. "Is there anything amiss?"

Taken aback, you didn't expect such close proximity that you took a step back. His smile almost faltered, but he kept it up.

"Emperor Satoru—"

"Ah, none of that, no. Address me just as you usually do, hmm?"

A smile finally tugged at your lips. "How is that fair, when you address me so formally?"

Satoru chuckled. "You, my queen, deserve all the finery and grandeur there is. And I will see to it that you do."

That was his nickname for you ever since you ascended the throne. Both of your countries refer you as “empress”, but he loves addressing you as “queen” instead.

There was a shift in your expression, and he thought you looked melancholic. It bothered him, stirring a desire to erase that somber look from you. Because above anything and everything, you had to be happy and smiling.

"You're still a flirt, I see, Satoru," you remarked, throwing him a soft smile. "It won't do you good if you're seen with me most of the time, you know."

No, I’m doing this just for you. He wanted to tell you that, but he sighed instead. "You've got it wrong. When I'm in the company of the most beautiful woman in the lands, what's there to be ashamed of?"

Perhaps hearing that finally melted you a bit as you freely giggled this time, and Satoru was glad that he made you laugh even a little.

"You would think that, huh..." you fondly mumbled. And then your expression crumbled, and he could've sworn something painful flashed in your eyes—

What happened to you? He so desperately wanted to ask, but then he saw that preying gaze on both of you. Zen’in Naoya. Satoru clicked his tongue as he watched him weave through the crowd, his gaze locked ominously on both of you.

“Seems like we don’t have much time, after all,” he began, urgency sharpening his words. “But rest assured, whenever you want to talk to me, just send a little birdie my way and I shall answer.”

“Huh?” you blinked at him questioningly, totally not getting what he meant.

He winked, then took your hand and placed a kiss on it, eliciting murmurs of surprise from the crowd at his bold gesture. “And chin up, my queen. You have nothing to fear, and if it makes you feel better...”

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “To me, a diamond is most beautiful. And you… are one that sparkles above all.”

“Naoya, unhand me this instant!”

You were tired of this shit, of Naoya always manhandling you—of him always having a total control over you.

After seeing how close you got to Satoru, Naoya practically saw red. Still, in the prying eyes of public, he remained unperturbed, but his vice-like grip on your arm was sure to leave bruise as he unkindly led you out of the ballroom.

"Naoya!" you raised your voice this time, even louder than before, uncaring even when the wandering eyes of the servants curiously followed the two of you.

You were not made an empress just to follow him. And with that conviction, you forcibly pulled your arm away from his grip right after he shut the door to the drawing room close, not even wincing at the stinging feeling.

His eyes shone with anger. “You insolent—!”

“No—” You stood your ground, and suddenly you got very irate and burst out, “How dare you, Zen’in Naoya!”

He looked at you with equal surprise and mortification, clearly unprepared for your righteous tirade.

"You have made a mockery of our marriage! You have insulted me and your own throne by carrying on with— with the help! My maid!" you screamed at his face, pure anger coursing through your veins. "How could you!?"

Naoya took in your outburst with eerie silence, a sneer slowly forming on his lips. "You get riled up over that? Have you forgotten emperors are free to take mistresses, especially when the empress isn't capable to bear any heirs?"

A burning arrow shot straight to your heart at his response but you willed yourself not to show it. "Regardless, you could've done better and not put our throne to shame by fucking a servant."

"I've told you time and time again. A woman's duty is to bear children, and since you've proven yourself beyond barren, I did you a favor."

"A favor...?"

"As soon as Hanabi births that child, you can raise him as your own," Naoya frankly stated unabashedly, as if proud with his idea. "Saves you the trouble and I get my heir, a win-win solution, no?"

Raise him as my own...? Saves the trouble? You could've sworn that throughout your entire life, you had never been so insulted before now, right in this moment.

"What I do, I always have my throne in mind. And yet you..." his eyes narrowed into unsatisfied slits. "What are you trying to achieve by whoring yourself to that rake, Gojo Satoru? Are you telling people of the ton that you're having an affair?"

His voice made you want to throw up. The realization that everything you thought you had together might have meant nothing to him at all made you feel sick.

And so, hiding your trembling hands and swallowing you unshed tears, you responded to him with a clipped tone—

"You're most despicable, Naoya. And you are a complete fool if you think even for a second that I'd want to raise your bastard!"

He seemed taken aback by your rejection, but you didn't falter. "And oh, since you want to make use of that lowly maid so much, feel free to take her back and track her down yourself, because I've sent that wench away."

With that, you turned your back on him, striding out with your head held high, even as your life crumbled into dust.

Days after your full-blown argument with Naoya, your situation only worsened. By now, even the palace servants knew you had incurred his wrath, while Hanabi had won his favor by carrying his child—possibly the heir to the throne.

The child she was carrying was no threat to your position. After all, you were the empress. A child of your blood would trample over any bastard.

However, you'd be damned if you shared a bed with him again, and Naoya made it clear that his mistress would be elevated to the rank of royal consort. Given the current trajectory—and history's tendency to repeat itself—emperors often divorced or banished their empresses in favor of their mistresses.

Bah. You could only scoff at your laughable predicament. You came from a prestigious clan and were revered, yet now you were no more than a scorned woman.

Dark thoughts consumed your mind for a time—you couldn't deny that you had considered leaving the palace for self-imposed exile or even ending your life. However, reason always prevailed.

You wouldn't give Naoya what he wanted most: your compliance. And around the time when you resolved to do that, a finely decorated envelope arrived at your study, with no signature whatsoever.

Intrigued, you opened it to find an intricate dried rose bookmark and a folded letter nestled inside.

Greetings to you, my queen. Yeah, it's me. Hope you won't be too surprised. But if you do, know that I always mean well.

Satoru. You weren't expecting this. A small smile tugged at your lips. How long had it been since you last smiled so freely?

I've heard you love reading, hence the bookmark. Fun fact: I made it myself, with Shoko's help. She is sooo bad at explaining though so if the flower is wrinkled... please blame her.

This time, you giggled. He was an emperor, for god's sake. Should someone of his station write so informally like this?

Now... I'm no oracle, but even I know that you must be having bad days. And so, let me entertain you with several tales from my kingdom. So, the other day, my good friend Suguru, the duke—you must've heard of him surely (they said he is the most handsome bachelor in the West but they must be missing an eye for saying so because clearly I'm more!)—just fired a pair of his servants because he caught them in a thirst! He is so uptight! Why can't he let two people in love be!?

Before you knew it, you found yourself chuckling at the lines upon lines of anecdotes Satoru had penned in the letter. The way he wrote, it was as if he was right here, saying all of this to you in real-time. For a while, you were completely absorbed in the world of the Western Empire he described, and all your worries and anxieties seemed to fade away.

Okay, that's it for now. This is just a teaser actually, so if you want to subscribe to more tales of my humble little country, you can always be my empress reply to this letter! :D Look out for a white cat near your windowsill during the hour of snake—he is my trained pet, and put your message in his little backpack. Don't worry, he's cute and doesn't bite!

You were so giddy by the end. His message warmed your heart so much that your eyes grew misty. In the aftermath of Naoya's betrayal, you were certain your life would be filled with much sadness to come.

Yet, your friendship with Satoru might just be the thing that would save you.

No matter how much his friends Duke Geto and Countess Shoko urged him to see reason—that you were no longer available and occupied with your duties as the empress of your own empire—Satoru couldn't help but still cast an eye your way.

You were clearly unhappy, and to him, someone as radiant as you should be happy.

And so, that was why he took his quill and started writing that letter to be sent to your place, along with a rose strapped inside.

He knew that, being the kind person you were, you would most likely respond, but still, the moment his cat arrived back with your reply, he was elated beyond measure.

Of course I knew it right away! I omitted your name because who knows who might catch your cat on the way. Anyway, I hope Mr. Cat will arrive back to you safe and sound. Firstly, thank you for your letter. I must say I'm so happy to receive it :) I haven't had best days so reading it made me smile. And secondly, of course I'll subscribe to your stories of Western Empire. I've been wanting to visit it myself but just haven't gotten the chance to... so if you will continue it, I shall be happy to read :D

If anything he wrote brought you joy, then Satoru was content. He had achieved his goal then.

And it was his own little secret that... by corresponding with you, it allowed him to savor the feeling of having you as his own, if only through words.

Mr. Cat's name is Sugu-chan after Suguru but you can call him whatever you wish. And don't worry, he is strong and can fight if necessary! And don't be too formal with me, my queen. We have known each other forever. Anyway do tell me, what is your favorite color now? Let me guess, is it still that specific shade of crimson?

You name your cat after your best friend...? And you're making it hard for me to be less formal when you always address me as queen! Hmm, I suppose so. I love burgundy. I've even had my study designed with that exact color scheme. It just gives me the confidence I need, you know.

So you still love burgundy... I'll keep that in mind ;) Frankly, any shade of crimson suits you—you're always a vision in them. Back then and especially during your coronation. I love blue, so I think we're a match? :D

Back then...? Hmm, surprisingly yes, red and blue would make a good match... Anyway, I believe you promised me unusual tales from your 'humble little country', so please indulge me!

You've forgotten it already? Around the time we first met, back when I was still known as "the cursed prince"? It holds such importance for me but sadly it seems like it was just a passing moment to you :( Oh, yeah, I haven't forgotten about it! So, this time let me tell you about the time when Earl Nanami got wasted . . .

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Amidst the turmoil of your marriage, exchanging letters with Satoru became your sole respite. His stories regarding his own empire amused you, and sometimes it got you to wonder what it was like to live there.

However, running away from your problems would never solve them. Writing to Satoru may have helped you to cope, but still, your real issue with Naoya wouldn't vanish simply just by ignoring him.

. . .

"Your Majesty..."

For a good one minute, you stood still. Your lady-in-waiting had delivered an earth-shattering news—but admittedly, a possibility you thought was in the cards the moment you went against Naoya.

"His majesty has summoned the high priest to his study," the elderly woman added, close to tears. "But it is very likely that he has submitted the petition for—" her voice faltered when she caught sight of the emptiness in your eyes, unable to continue.

A divorce. Naoya had been considering a divorce. And by now, he was set on it.

"I'm so, so sorry..." she choked out, her voice breaking with sorrow to mourn you, but you remained expressionless, lost in your thoughts.

The last time an empress of Eastern Empire was divorced was more or less a century ago, because she had committed a grave treachery against a royal consort by poisoning her. She was sentenced to death by hanging afterwards.

The irony. You were in similar situation, only that you weren't vengeful enough to resort to poisoning Hanabi. Speaking of her, her baby was due in another four months, and now she was living happily in Naoya's quarters.

"Don't be. I'm perfectly fine."

To consolidate his illegitimate child's position, Naoya used the most effective way. Since you wouldn't listen to him, and Hanabi must be a far delightful companion rather than you, he was more than willing to cast you aside in favor of making her his empress instead.

You thought it would hurt more, and yet what you felt the most right in this moment was white-hot anger. This is unacceptable. It was the greatest insult to you both as a woman and as the empress.

Now, all you could think of was how to uphold your dignity and plot your exit from this palace with your head still held high.

If I can't be the empress here...

And after a sleepless night, you came to a daring solution. And your plan—

...I'll be one somewhere else.

It was an invitation, Satoru thought, almost in disbelief. Or it sounded a lot like one, didn't it?

Heart beating a little faster and blushing, he reread the latest letter you had sent him.

It's only the beginning of summer, and the heat is sweltering... I'm considering treating myself to a trip to the winery village on the border between the east and west. I think it'll be nice if I have a companion...

Winery village was right in the middle of the western and eastern empires, and it was a safe zone. Vineyards were vast and thick, but it wasn't exactly a popular vacation spot. So, it intrigued him why you would want to go there.

Just as he was about to reply to you that it was a very good coincidence that he too wanted to pay a visit to the said village, suddenly—

"Gojo! Gojoooo!" Shoko suddenly burst into his study, startling him.

"Shoko! What the heck?!"

Lady Shoko might be a countess, but she, Satoru, and Suguru all attended the same royal academy. Despite their prestigious titles now, Satoru insisted that in private, both Suguru and Shoko address him just as they did before he ascended the throne.

Still, she was ruder than Suguru in many ways. Satoru gave her a stink eye, but his confusion grew as she seemed to be delivering momentous news.

"Gojo, have you heard that Naoya will divorce Y/N?!"

"Wha?" it felt like a ton of bricks suddenly fell down on his head. And then his friend proceeded to tell him everything she knew.

"It wasn't made official yet, but even the townsfolk have been talking about it. They also said that Naoya have taken a mistress, and that she was formerly the empress' maid."

Satoru listened to her in silence, but the moment he heard that the Zen'in spawn planned to divorce you, anger flared within him. And to add insult to injury, he two-timed you with a servant?

The fucking bastard. He never deserved you at all. How crushed must you have been, enduring all this shit?

"Now, I wouldn't normally encourage you this," Shoko took out the cigarette she stashed in the folds of her dress and sighed. "But since you never let go of that weird fixation on her, should the royal divorce happen..." she shrugged as she took a seat in front of him.

"No matter how laughable it is, you might have a chance."

She is so right. These long years of longing for your affections and dreaming of having even a minute more of your time... there was now chance to turn it to reality.

When you arrived at the winery village for your vacation to breathe in some fresh air, honestly, everything was still in shambles.

You couldn't forget the horrified looks from the court when Naoya announced the divorce. Most were shocked and pleaded with him to reconsider. Some from your circle of ladies even sobbed, openly stating that you didn't deserve this fate.

“Empress... His Majesty shouldn't be that harsh...” Hanabi had said to you afterwards, seemingly concerned for you. “Your legacy here… I’ll make sure to carry them on.”

Sometimes you didn’t know whether Hanabi was pretending to be dumb or indeed she was. One thing you knew though...

“I wish you luck on that, Hanabi.” You looked down at her with eyes as cold as ice. “Beware, the Emperor is fickle, be sure to not run out of entertainments.”

You knew you deserved a better fate than being the empress of the Eastern Empire, but seeing those who still cared for you made you solemn. Your loyal maids, those who supported you... and what about organizations you've spent time and energy to?

“My queen, ah, there you are.”

Satoru's voice from behind startled you, interrupting your daydreams. He quickly came beside you and extended his hand, asking for yours.

You offered him your right hand, and he promptly pressed a kiss on it, his bright blue eyes gazing up at you.

It wasn't as if you just noticed how pretty his eyes were, but now that there was no ballroom and scrutinizing eyes around you, you couldn't deny that the way his eyes sparkled as he gazed at you—solely and purely on you—made you breathless.

What... would it be like to have this man... to be your husband instead?

"I missed you. I know we talk daily through letters, but seeing your beauty firsthand is always a sight for sore eyes," he cheekily commented as he let go of your hand. "Now, I get to see you without your pesky husband around, and yeah, you never fail to make my silly heart race."

You chuckled. "You always flatter me..."

He only gave you a toothy smile, and you two strolled the vineyard. For a while, you talked about nothing of importance, like where your ladies-in-waiting were, how things were from his side.

"How do you find being the emperor?"

"It's tiring! It's boring too to look through accounts and oversee those trivial state affairs! And not to mention how many people have been nagging me to take a wife soon!"

"Oh? You haven't been on the lookout already?"

"Nah. No one is good enough, I need someone already familiar with state affairs and such," he said, wrinkling his nose sourly at the thought. But then he cast his eyes on you.

"And frankly, you are my standard," he fixed you a meaningful smile. "No one comes close. If you weren't betrothed to the Zen'in back then, I'd have proposed you in a heartbeat."

Thump. Thump. Thump. Your dead heart suddenly came to life. Gojo Satoru had just confessed his affections for you so candidly, and it got you thinking how much easier your life would be with him. He would love you, take care of you...

And beguile you.

His eyes fondly crinkled at you. "You are everything I desire in a woman to be my wife."

He adores you so easily, so fluidly... and yet, Naoya, who has you fully, is throwing you away.

Satoru observed how your face fell once again, just as it had during the New Year's ball. And now he knew, it was because you were facing your impending divorce.

But he wasn't going to tell you that, instead, he would willingly be your confidant and offer you his very being. He was about to crack a joke to lift your spirits, when you blurted—

"What if I said... I want to be your empress?" you kept your pace, not looking at him at all. "What if I said... I'll leave everything and come to you?"

Huh? What…?

That was loaded. Have you entertained the thought too? Satoru had craved the very idea for so long he didn’t even miss a beat—

“Then I’d marry you.” His voice was straight and true, shooting straight to the most tender part of you that Naoya had torn to shreds. “If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”

No hesitation. It almost reduced you to tears. You stopped where you stood, willing yourself not to tremble. There is still one person who sees this much value in you.

“Then I’ll be yours,” you breathed out. “I’ll be your empress, Satoru.”

Satoru could've sworn time had stopped. If one moment ago, you looked like you were about to shatter, now you were a vision of the dignified and perfect queen he had always known you were.

“I’ll be your queen— your everything.” You declared, locking eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze not escaping him.

How many years had he dreamed of this moment? How many long nights had he endured, yearning for you, knowing you were beyond his reach?

Finally, finally... Satoru grinned, swearing to all the divine beings out there that he had never known how liberating it was to finally have what he wanted. “That would be my greatest honor.”

He drew you close—you let him—and after one second of taking in your enchanting eyes, he crashed his lips against yours.

His lips started soft and gentle, then became fiery as his tongue met yours. He pulled you closer, one arm around your waist and the other holding the back of your head. You responded eagerly, pressing against him, fingers tracing his neck and feeling the lines of his undercut.

One is finally having the woman he had wanted for so long, and the other was plotting her escape from her misery.

You were using him. He knew it. Yet, he didn't care. Hidden behind bushes and vines, you shared your very first heated kiss, aware that this moment would leave its mark as both the greatest stain and triumph in your lives.

And when he finally pulled away, lips swollen and wet, with a wolfish grin, he promised you once again—

“Give me everything that is yours... and I swear on my life, I will do everything to turn your life into a living dream.”

“Empress, your husband His Majesty the Emperor, has requested a divorce.”

It was how your once pristine life transformed into the scandal of the century inside the courthouse.

"If you accept this petition, then you will no longer be the Empress of Eastern Empire. You will lose all the rights you have as a senior member of the imperial family..."

You donned your finest attire—the intricate crimson and black dress you had designed and commissioned the dressmaker to create. Today, faced with Naoya's divorce decree, it would be the last time you adorned the colors of his empire.

"The ties that bound you together as husband and wife would be severed—"

Good riddance, you thought.

"If this is not what you want, you have the right to—"

"I accept the divorce."

Your voice cut through the heavy solemness of the witnesses and turned them into a mass of disbelief. You disregarded Naoya's smirk and held the priest's gaze. "And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage."

The crowd was in for a second wave of uproar when you boldly stood your ground, and they erupted into clamors once again when Satoru made his grand entrance and took his place beside you.

"You—!" Naoya was so furious that he roared. "This is my empire!"

"And?" Satoru challenged with a dauntless smile. "I'm here to propose, and since she accepts your divorce request, I believe she has no relations with you any longer and is free to marry someone else."

You remained motionless, until your cold fingers met warmth when Satoru linked his hand with yours reassuringly.

"This is treachery! I won't fucking permit it!" Naoya hollered as he faced the high priest, who had a grim face while observing this three-way headlock between the three of you.

"Emperor Naoya, that matter falls into the jurisdiction of the church." The high priest let out a sigh and then turned to you, assessing your calm gaze.

Regardless, Naoya paid him no mind. "I refuse to grant you any permission to remarry! You will be banished to the cold palace until the rest of your pitiful days! Not only do you fail miserably by being barren beyond help, you also dare to whore yourself—" he was now rambling curses at you before everyone in the court, and it pierced you deeply—

Until Satoru tugged you behind him, so that you wouldn't have to see his face any longer.

"High priest!" Satoru's voice blared as he clenched his jaw, irate at the string of profanities directed at you. "Do you still truly believe that the deposed empress can't remarry? When she has suffered through this man's downright betrayal?"

Your head was spinning. You wanted this whole ordeal to be over already.

And thankfully, even the high priest saw reason, that you were undeserving of this debacle. In the end, his words held more weight than anyone else's, even Naoya's.

"I accept Empress Y/N petition to marry Emperor Satoru!"

In the chaos of the courthouse after the high priest granted your wish, Naoya shook his head in disbelief, looking at both of you with intense disdain.

"You've always wanted that wench, haven't you, Gojo?" Naoya cackled with a malice you would never have expected from someone who had been your husband for ten years.

You had tuned out all the noise. This dumpster fire was too much even for you. But then, you felt a strong arm enveloping you, sealing your fate as the match made in this courtroom—

"I have, yeah," Satoru replied with a smug grin. "And now that she is mine... it's just the beginning of your downfall, Zen'in."

Your wedding banquet in Western Empire lasted a week long.

True to his promise, Satoru spared no effort to make you happy. The moment he brought you to his palace, he ordered immediate plans for wedding celebrations. Make it grand, make it unforgettable... he took charge himself.

And on the final, seventh day, as you were about to be formally crowned as the empress of the western lands, you were stunned.

"This is your coronation dress, Empress," your new lady-in-waiting, Shoko, said with pride. "Gojo— I mean, His Majesty, specifically has his late mother's dress altered to suit you."

You promised yourself that you would no longer wear any shades of crimson. As much as you loved the color, it reminded you too much of your homeland and Naoya. No matter how much you despised him now, once upon a time, he was everything you loved and more.

And you thought you couldn't possibly love another color until you saw the extravagant navy dress in your chamber. Made of luxurious satin and adorned with literal diamonds, it shimmered under the light and flowed gracefully with layers of brocade cascading to the floor.

To give you something so valuable... You had expected to enter into a marriage out of necessity, but your new husband had no intention of ceasing his ways to win your heart.

If it's with him, maybe... just maybe...

Today is the day.

Satoru sat on his throne before his court in the grand hall of his audience chamber. His hair was pulled back, and he was dressed in his official attire, robe of silk and a crown made of pure gold.

Next to him, another resplendent crown adorned with jewels and diamonds shimmered in the light—the empress' crown. Your crown.

Today was the day this empire would truly acknowledge his queen. He stole a glance at you on his other side, and his breath was taken away.

With your hair tucked into an elegant updo, you were the very vision of a fairytale queen. You were incredibly stunning, almost otherworldly— shade of blue suited you as much as crimson did, just as he thought.

This day would go down in history. But before that, he would ensure that the news would reach Zen'in Naoya. He would spite him so hard.

"Today marks a momentous occasion. We gather here to celebrate not only my marriage and my new wife's coronation," Satoru glanced at his audience with a smirk, his expression widening as he spotted his best friends Suguru and Shoko. "But also the start of her reign... and as we know it already, her fame and beauty are second to none."

The crowd burst into giggles, clearly aware of his scandal at the Eastern Empire's courthouse. And even you smiled.

Satoru shrugged, playfully rolling his eyes. "Spare me, I'm a newlywed, after all. Anyway..." His gaze shifted to the intricate crown, a relic of his late mother's, and then back to you. "Come."

You knelt before your new husband, bowing your head. The whirlwind journey from the East, your remarriage to Satoru... It had all felt surreal until this moment. Now, the weight of reality settled upon you, almost shaking your very core—

But just as the thought crossed your mind, Satoru placed the crown upon your head. As the jewels settled into place and you rose to face the crowd, his voice cut through the air:

"And here I present to you, your new empress!"

The room erupted in applause, the cheers echoing around you. Everyone congratulated you without fail, and your breath was taken away.

It was a sight beyond belief, as they chanted your name, over and over again—

“ALL HAIL THE EMPRESS!”

"I have something for you!"

You wouldn't expect that you would ditch your last night of wedding celebrations along with your husband, and yet here you were, led by the hand by a very giddy Satoru.

"Where are we going?" you questioned him, your pretty dress sweeping the halls in a rush.

He turned to you to send you a wink. "Trust me, sweetheart. You'll love it."

Somehow the way he called you made your heart thump a little faster inside your ribcage. This man is really, truly, your husband now.

He was such a refreshing person, it almost made you let go of everything that molded you into the perfect empress in the east, and be just... you.

"Here." Both of you stopped in front of a grand door, and he ushered you inside. "Come, come~"

A study, you realized as you stepped inside, but then a gasp left your lips—

"How do you find it, hmm?" Satoru put an arm around your waist, proud of how the burgundy walls and mats enveloped the entire space, creating a tranquil sight that perfectly matched your taste.

It was so much like your private study in the Eastern Empire's palace. You might now hate that place, but your private study was filled with the memories of smiles while writing back to Satoru's letters and waiting for his cat to come. And to have this now in your new home...

"You remembered..." you looked up to him, almost tearing up.

"Of course I do," he pressed a kiss on your temple. "I said that so long as you're with me, I'll turn your dream into reality, didn't I?"

This man really treasures you, or at least that was what his actions had proven so far.

"You're everything I've ever wanted and more," Satoru said, wrapping his arms around you from behind in a warm embrace. "You might not realize it, but I've been in love with you since you first visited western lands."

"What?" you turned to him with genuine confusion. "How?"

"That blind boy who you led by the hand... he had no friends," Satoru sighed against you. "The first and only person who asked him if he was lost... is you."

Suddenly, you were thrown back in time to your first encounter with Satoru many years ago. He was known as "cursed" for being born with peculiar eyes, had been blind for a period of his childhood, before he awakened the true extent of those brilliant blue eyes and brought his clan to power by wielding them.

Back then, you thought it was wrong for him to be left alone, so you took him by the hand and escorted him back to the palace, unaware that he was the infamously cursed crown prince.

"You made me feel less lonely. And I thought then... someday, somehow... through some sort of miracle in which I regained my eyesight and could see you... I'd immediately ask for your hand."

But you were named the crown princess of the Eastern Empire. The thought of how crushed Satoru must have felt upon hearing the news pricked at your heart.

You felt soft, you felt loved, and most of all, you felt an overwhelming certainty that with this man by your side, you would finally experience the genuine love that had been missing from your life for so long.

"You have me now," you whispered in response.

Unlike your first kiss in the winery village, this time, you were the one who faced him and pulled him into a searing kiss.

Be it impulse, overwhelming feelings or something else... you didn't care. You just want him.

And wouldn't you know, your new husband... is also a wonderful, dashing lover.

"You're so... fucking beautiful..." Satoru's lips were on yours, claiming them with a fierce passion that left you breathless. His hands roamed your body, tracing each curves and lines.

You moaned into his mouth, clutching his robes. He captured your wrists with one hand, using the other to tilt your head back so he could leave bruises on your neck in the process, making you moan.

"Keep making that sound, yeah?" Satoru rasped, his hot breath giving you goosebumps. "Keep me going with your voice."

As he gripped your waist, it dawned to him once again that you were here, with him.

Seeing his colors on you ignited desire straight to his cock. His empress was stunning, more so now than ever, more than any woman Satoru had ever seen.

He led you to the bed, his movements urgent yet tender. The air was thick with desire as you lay back, pulling him down with you. You arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him, craving more.

This wasn't your first time, yet you had never been this excited before. From heated kisses until somehow managing to get rid of your underwear and left you in your dress... your body nearly thrashed in response.

"Look at you... An queen of two empires, yet rendered putty in my hands," Satoru wickedly grinned as he slipped a hand under your dress, rubbing his thumb teasingly over your clit. You let out a soft sigh at the prodding. You were getting wetter by each second... and Satoru felt his cock straining against the tight material of his dress pants.

"More..." you pleaded, arching your hips. "More...!"

Any of your wishes would be his command, so he pushed two fingers inside you at once, and you let out an erotic gasp. Satoru was so close to tearing his pants off by seeing how tight you clenched around his digits.

Breathy moans fell from your lips with each harsh brush of his thumb over your clit, his fingers fucking you fast—

"Satoru...!" you shuddered, gripping his shoulders as you became limp and came into his hands in spurts.

"My queen..." he then captured your lips in a brash kiss, and you reciprocated it. He pulled away only to press his forehead against yours in an attempt to calm his raging heart. "No matter what."

His watery, sparkling eyes was mesmerizing to you, and you took one breath before you crashed your lips into his, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.

"As pretty as you look in this, I'm going to take it off," Satoru murmured with a meaningful smirk, slowly undoing the laces of your dress. "I want to see you completely naked... just for me."

Soon, you laid bare, and the cold air made your body shiver. Satoru clenched his jaw tightly at the scrumptious sight.

It was almost difficult for him to take in all of you at once—your flushed cheeks, swollen lips, erect nipples, and legs spread wantonly for him. Satoru had been here so many times in his dreams, and to see it becoming reality...

"If back then, you had chosen me instead—" he sounded almost heartbroken, which startled you. "I would have treated you right from the start—"

You looked up to him. "You would..."

"Don't you know how many years... I've been just there— watching you and that bastard? Knowing I can do even more than him?"

"Mhm..."

You rose, tugging him closer, before you unclasped his robe, letting it fall to the floor. "Satoru... right now... I'm yours."

He allowed you to undress him and soon he too was out of his stuffy royal attire. Your eyes wandered on each part of his body you touched. His chiseled body, snow-like skin, and then the hardened bulge that sprung out the moment you undid his pants—

The sight of his cock alone only turned you on even more. You gently gripped the glistening head, running a thumb over the tip before gliding your hand towards the base of his length. With a gentle rhythm, your hand moved from base to tip in a slow, teasing motion... before pecking his head.

"Yeah... you're right." His eyes never left yours, admiring you as if you were the most precious gemstone, before catching you off guard. While you rubbed him, he snaked a hand around your waist, pulling you so that you tumbled on top of him.

You moaned loudly as his cock—big, both in length and width—entered you, his hands gripping your thighs to spread them apart so he can shove himself deeper.

You felt so, so full, as you pulled Satoru to you tightly, groaning into his shoulder. And he started to set the pace, moving against you.

"Ahh," you moaned out shakily, fingers clawing into his back. To him, the sounds you made drew him in like a siren's song, it made him throb inside you. "Ahh—hngh!"

"Feel good?" he asked, voice sultry and deep, as he thrusted into you particularly harder, causing you to stifle a moan. "Let it out—hah—sweetheart... I want to hear you, hmm?"

And you did. You felt hot. Your unabashed, nasty sounds with each thrust drove him to the edge. With every lift of your hips, you squeezed him so tightly it almost made his head spin. His breaths came in short pants too.

"You fit me so damn well," he groaned, holding your hips hard enough to leave imprints of his fingers. "So fine..."

One woman. It took just one woman—you—to unravel him like this.

"Satoru, harder—" You commanded, wrapping your arms around his neck even as you trembled. "N-not enough... harder!"

He actually had to swallow, because you and your pussy felt so damn tantalizing. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

He slammed his hips against yours twice—no, thrice the previous speed, and you incoherently squealed. The squelching sound of your hips slamming against each other, and the immense wetness coming out where you two were joined... it was clear: you were addicted.

"Did Naoya ever make you feel as good as I do you now?" he drawled, sinking into you impossibly deeper, squeezing your left mound and flicking your right nipple at the same time. "Did he... ever make you ride him like this?" And then he instantly regretted his words.

Because the moment he said that, you felt cold, reminded of nights in which Zen'in Naoya grabbed you just to forcefully breed you. You winced, and Satoru caught it.

"I..." you shifted your gaze away from him, and he could've sworn that it was sorrow he saw flashing in your pretty eyes. "I-I... don't want to talk about him..."

Feeling remorseful, Satoru reached for the back of your neck and pulled you to him, kissing your lips softly. "I'm sorry—"

"You don't have to—"

"Tonight, I'll make you scream my name so hard you'll forget him," he promised as he pulled away from you, his eyes darkening. "Tonight, give me everything and I'll show you how a man truly loves his woman."

And he followed through. He worshipped you meticulously, treating your body with the reverence one might bestow upon delicate glass. He peppered kisses on every inch of your skin he could reach, lips and tongue trailing down, his relentless thrusts so well-paced and brutal at the same time.

"I'm— close!" You whimpered, and yet still grinding your hips against him. He was watching your every move, every wave of pleasure that was evident on your face— committing it to memory for those moments when he couldn't hold you close.

You gasped—as a mind-blowing orgasm then ripped out of your very being, your hips faltering as you surrendered to ecstasy with a cry of his name, coming all over him. "Satoru... Satoru! Ahhh!"

And Satoru kept his gaze on your face as he too busted inside of you hard, feeling himself filling your womb with his essence, his hands kept your waist steady, memorizing the way your lips part and the way your body went limp into him with satisfaction.

Dear heavens, I love you. The sight of you was nothing but perfection, and with everything he had, he was very sincere when he said—

"You're flawless, sweetheart."

2 MONTHS LATER

"If you give me a son, I'll throne you as the empress right on that very day."

The Eastern Empire's palace was bustling as the royal consort's screams echoed through the halls. The day Naoya had been eagerly awaiting had arrived—his mistress was delivering his heir.

Yet unbeknownst to him, whispers in the dark suggested the royal baby was arriving suspiciously early. Many, still mourning the previous empress who had been dethroned so abruptly, were not exactly thrilled with this turn of events.

"My lady, just a little bit more!" the maid encouraged. Hanabi strained once again as the pain peaked and her body spasmed, letting out the loudest wail as the baby finally slid out of her.

"W-what... is it?" on the brink of passing out, Hanabi asked anyone who might hear her. She had to know, for she was so close to obtaining her throne—

"It's a girl, my lady!" the midwife announced.

What?

Her world crumbled at that very moment. A girl? A girl can't be the heir!

She wanted to sob, to utterly mourn, and right at this moment she was full of fear, because if Naoya knew—!

Like a curse, he suddenly made his presence known in the birthing chamber. His face scrunched in distaste at the scent of blood filling the air. He took one look at Hanabi, tearful and frazzled after the ordeal, then turned to the midwife, who was trembling at his presence.

"A baby girl, Your Majesty."

In that instant, fury flashed through him. He shot everyone in the room a glare before his eyes settled on his consort, full of spite.

"You useless tramp."

Your life with Satoru in Western Empire was wonderful.

He was everything Naoya was not. Satoru adored you, prioritized your well-being and happiness, often humored you, and made your days an endless delight.

And dare you say... you had begun to return his affections as well.

How could you not? Everything he did, he did with you in mind. He eased you into your position so seamlessly, and soon you found your place comfortably at court.

"He is mixing pleasure with his kingly duties," Suguru grumbled, watching his best friend order the gardeners to plant more blue roses simply because you mentioned finding them beautiful earlier. "Empress, you have to keep a tight grip on his leash."

"Well, at least he's happy." Shoko shrugged and nudged you. "Can't you see by now? How much of a loser he is for you?"

You did see him—a man who showed you everything he had. He had given you everything you unknowingly needed.

And you just wished... you could return the same for him. It still made you bitter, knowing you might never be able to give him heirs due to your condition.

. . .

"Sweetheart... what's on your mind, hmm?"

You looked up to him as he pressed a kiss on your cheek, an arm securely around you, sweaty and panting after your steamy session.

With his hair down and messy after you yanked him earlier, your lips curved into a genuine smile. "You look hot like this, you know?"

He clicked his tongue. "Hmm, I am, of course. But no use in changing topics, I know you well enough now."

Your bare body was pressed against his chest, fingertips tracing gentle lines on his skin.

"There's a possibility that... I can't give you any children." You almost felt ashamed saying this to him, unable to look at him in the eye. "I-I... I've failed for many years—"

"Hush," he silenced you with a finger to your lips, his expression firm. "No thinking that, yeah? I don't care."

"But—"

"Children are gifts," he said then, caressing your face tenderly. "It's not up to us to control how it'll take or not. And I married you not because I want heirs or such—I love you, you know?"

Your glassy eyes met his, and you willed yourself not to shed a tear.

He grinned cheekily. "Besides, you've felt it yourself—my sexual potency is undeniable. And I don't believe for a second, that you're what that bastard claimed you to be. I bet he's the one who is impotent—"

"Satoru! You're so obscene—!" you giggled freely and poked his chest.

At that time, you were just relieved that he didn't mind. Though it was still weighing in your mind on some days, you felt a newfound sense of liberation compared to when you were still in the Eastern Empire.

But you were in for another plot twist. Perhaps Satoru is correct, and your doubts are unfounded...

"Ugh..."

Your stomach churned in discomfort, a sickening nausea that seemed to twist your insides and threaten to force its way up. This had happened for days now.

You wanted to find a physician before Satoru was aware of your state. You didn't dare to hope or speculate, because you were tired of it by this point. You just wanted clarity.

Yet, the physician's words left you speechless.

"Your Majesty... it seems that you are with child," he remarked in wonder as he assessed your vein. "Yes, definitely. You are with child."

It was a revelation you hadn't expected. For years, you had been convinced that you were unable to conceive, but now...

You were carrying a new life. Yours and Satoru's.

You felt like bursting with joy as you made your way to his study. Your heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of happiness. Above anything else, you were eager to share this news with him—

...until everything you had known turned on its axis once again.

Right before you went past the ajar door, you saw a glimpse of your husband and his most trusted confidant, overhearing snippets of their conversation:

"Satoru, however you look at it, this is tantamount to declaring war," Suguru sighed, clearly at odds with his perspective. "It's not wise."

"We can finally put an end to them this way," Satoru's tone was steely as he moved a chess piece across the map, positioning it on the border between east and west. "No better time than now."

"The Empress will face the greatest backlash from this. They'll accuse her of being vengeful enough to provoke an attack on her home country—"

"On the contrary, her presence will encourage those still loyal to her to defect. That's why I have her here. We need defectors—"

You let out a choked gasp, backing away from the door in shock. For one good minute, you refused to comprehend what Satoru was implying.

. . .

. . .

Did your new husband... marry you for his own hidden agenda?

200731 music bank - wooyoung.

The Ruthless Prince (Part 16.1) Scaramouche x fem!reader [Genshin Royal AU]

Summary: When Prince Scaramouche picks you out of a random group of commoners to marry, your life is turned upside down. He’s mean, snarky, condescending and he doesn’t act like a proper husband or prince at all. However, when Prince Tartaglia from the neighbouring kingdom takes an interest in you, Prince Scaramouche finds himself even more annoyed than usual. This is the story of him and you navigating this roller coaster of a relationship.

Warnings: NOT PROOFREAD forgive me, longer than usual, lots of things happen, steamy! but completely safe for work, implied sexual activities. 16.1 because I cut out the hot parts, 16.2 will be the one that details what exactly they did *eyebrow wiggle* but it doesn’t take away anything from the story if you don’t read 16.2. It’s just a little extra for those who feel like it.

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary and a recap on the Royal AU plots are here.

Read other parts: (Ruthless Prince Masterlist)

You sit in the silence of your shared room. Glancing at the clock on the wall, it is now past the birthday celebrations. Past your usual bed time, even. 

And yet, not a wink of sleep has found you.

There’s only anxiousness and uncertainty that makes your chest tighten. It drops to your stomach, and it dissipates the slightest bit, making you think that you’ve gotten control of your emotions back, but it shoots up your stomach and wraps around your heart again. The cycle of being anxious and uncertain continues.

Scaramouche disappeared as soon as the two of you got back to the castle. He strode past the big castle doors in a hurry, and when he remembered that you were there with him he swerved around and only said one thing. “Go to sleep,” It was rather dismissive, and for a moment you wondered if going to sleep was really the only thing you could do. 

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