SUBTLE SMUT SENTENCE STARTERS / SELECTIVE
↳ @gorarus said: ❛ don’t mind me. just enjoying the view. ❜ - wife wife wife wife
she touches the morning glory yukata reverently, fingertips tracing the beautifully embroidered blooms with a wan smile. it’s by far the most extravagant article of clothing she owned since they fled. it was a pity that such a beautiful gift came along with the possibility of her death. suma and hinatsuru had already left the compound with hours between their departures so as to not arouse suspicion amidst their infiltration of the entertainment district. there had been whispers of a demon hiding amongst the bewitching courtesans, and the rumors were surrounded by death. an investigation had ensued, but tengen’s attempt at going undercover as a customer had ended in failure. so it fell into the capable hands of the kunoichi who excelled at subterfuge. with the sun at its peak in the sky, makio knew it was time; it was her turn to pervade and assimilate herself amongst courtesans haunting the infamous district of lust and depravity. makio unmade her obi, shrugging off her threadbare and sleeveless yukata and letting it fall into a heap on the floor. peeling off the wrappings that bound her breasts, she procures a clean roll and begins to wrap her chest carefully, tugging at the linen to give herself room to breathe. satisfied with her handiwork, makio pulls on a thin under layer, tying a knot at the waist to keep it together before shifting towards her disguise. she stands whilst unfolding the yukata, brandishing it with a flourish prior to going through the careful motions of adorning it, which she recalls vaguely from when her own mother dressed her way back when. once she finally manages to secure her obi around her waist and tie it, makio admires herself in the small hand mirror she keeps in her room. there was no room for vanity in their walk of life, but there are times wherein makio likes to fantasize of a life beyond what she had been born into. she flashes a shy smile at her reflection, but it falls almost immediately when she feels a presence make itself known in some dark corner of her room. a minuscule shift in energy that a lesser person wouldn’t have noticed, but something a trained and seasoned kunoichi such as herself caught. makio’s put on edge as her fingertips curl around the kunai kept hidden in the folds of her obi. she moves onto the offensive, feet spread apart as she flicks her wrist, sending the kunai flying into the corner where she felt the flare of energy originate. metal meets metal and a boisterous guffaw reaches her ears. with a pivot, makio glares at the object of her ire, her husband: uzui tengen. the smirk he sends her way is both haughty and lazy ( an expression only he could ever pull off ) eyes half-lidded as he utters words that only serve to annoy her. she stomps towards him, scooping her kunai off the tatami and tucking it back into its hiding place within her obi. now in close proximity with her husband, she’s hit with a sudden bout of anxiety, her earlier thoughts resurfacing: how long will this assignment last? will this be the last time they see each other? will she die? would they mourn her? her teeth sink into the plump flesh of her bottom lip as she steps even closer to the hashira, her fingers toying with the buttons of his uniform. if this was to be her last moment with her husband, she might as well make the most of it. one last good memory before she ventured into enemy lines. confidence renewed, makio took his hand in hers, twining their fingers together as she peers up at her husband with a heated gaze. “i assure you that what lies beneath is far better than what can be perceived on the surface—” she whispers whilst hooking a finger into one of his belt loops, pulling him in closer, hoping to trap him in both her gaze and the moment “—are you tempted?”














