#since it's all just hissing

[lilyoffandoms]

Bianca & Adan

[wip here]

My Art Ish Thing Tag (Choices Edition): @storyofmychoices @aallotarenunelma @twinkleallnight @thosehallowedhalls @dutifullynuttywitch

[mutable-manifestation]

I mean, Vlad would still be the college best bud obsessed w Maddie, he'd just be a lot more sly about trying to win over the kids (he has no idea why Daniel is so very cross with him at all times) so I could see it happening if the Foleys didn't step in (bc u know Sam's parents would never).

But even then I doubt Danny would ask to be ripped in half (for one Vlad wouldn't know to offer so Danny prob wouldn't know the rippers exist at all)

I feel like he'd probably do like u said & just use Vlad's portal to spend a lot of time seeking out Walker's company (side note: Walker is ecstatic. The cats are actively coming to him now. The munchkin is bound to appear...eventually. "It's only a matter of time" lol [side side note: Walker doesn't think to say anything to anyone else so they all think he's just a cat person])

If you diiiid want to go the 'Dan' route u could prob use Walker for that, actually... Munchkin making a reappearance & when he shows up and Walker's opening move is to blast him into a wall and just. Monologue.

It's a cat, it's not like it matters if it knows he's been waiting for the moment he could finally thrash the thing and take the throne.

And to Danny, Walker is the only person he really had left.

He cracks.

Dan wouldn't be a combination of Danny & Vlad in this, it would be all Danny.

A Danny who has only interacted with other ghosts as enemies (why would he make allies w/Poindexter? Poindexter wouldn't call a cat a bully. They don't know each other. He doesn't know Frostbite yet.)

A Danny whose one ghost friend turned out not to be his friend at all.

A Danny who thought he'd lost everything, and then lost some more.

A Danny full of rage and grief and an easy target: ghosts.

Sure, he turned on the portal.

But the ghosts chose to attack.

They chose to try and hurt his friends and his family and his school and his city.

It's their fault he missed so many classes.

It's their fault he barely got any sleep, making the classes he did attend blur in his memory.

It's their fault he went from an A- and B-student to failing his classes.

Their fault he didn't have a hope of passing the CAT.

Their fault he had to cheat.

It was because of ghosts that his parents and sister and friends (and teacher) all died.

It was because of ghosts that Danny was all alone.

And maybe, in that moment, he decides that his parents were right.

Ghosts are just evil imprints that should ripped apart molecule by molecule.

How fortuitous that he has claws.

------------------------------------------------------------

Homie bestie amigo friend I love you with my entire heart.

Cat duplicates.

You're a genius.

Maybe he just uses it to be in multiple places at once (ie fight ghosts, visit Walker, troll Vlad as a second cat by gaslighting him & also knocking over his vases, be at school, & catch up on his studying. Albeit he'd prob overdo it and have to spend some time practicing)

But the next time Skulker shows up, he is tackled by a veritable horde of cats at once.

This is the first time anyone sees more than one cat in one place. The shriek Skulker lets out is something he will never live down (the losing to a cat thing got less pathetic after a-they all lost to it constantly and b-it beat Pariah-Fucking-Dark)

After the rescue from Pariah Dark the sighting of multiple cats at once, the Casper students (& a lot of other people) petition to put a giant cat tree in the park.

Danny appears as like a dozen cats when they're setting it up and sits all of him in the empty shipping contain.

--------------------------------

For the Dan route may I submit: The Ghostly Yowl

Schrödinger’s cat a la DP

(why does the title sound like i’m making pasta?)

DP AU! in which everything is the same but Danny ghost for is the “Schrödinger’s cat”

When Danny had the accident he became something not alive but not dead, but also alive and dead at the same time. Because concepts, ideas and myths can become ghosts in the ghost zone, and Danny becoming the definition of Schrödinger’s cat theory his ghost form became that of a cat

Being a cat didn’t change any of his powers, he is just a little more faster agile and very hard to catch

But what makes him the embodiment of that theory is the fact that his ghost form is different every time he transform, sometimes he is a black cat that looks perfectly normal, others he is a white cat with wispy fur, also a green cat with red eyes that’s obviously a ghost, he can be a black cat that glitches in a way that people thinks reality is breaking around that cat, though the form of the white cat made of snow makes it the favorite for his friends in summer

Danny doesn’t know why his form is like that until he finds out about Schrödinger’s cat thanks to tucker, though knowing doesn’t change anything, the various cat forms are almost infinite, though they tend to repeat sometimes the forms are too random that are impossible to predict, after some time Danny learn to live with it and appreciate the pets his friends and other people give him in that form, though his favorite one, and the one that repeats more often is the form of a cat black as the void of space with stars and galaxies moving on the fur

One of the advantages of this cat forms is that no one, besides his friends and sister, knows his secret, though nobody expects a living teen to be a ghost cat, the ghost just think that there are multiple powerful ghost cats in amity and are very territorial about it, the Fenton parents try to trap the cats putting traps with cat food for ghosts in there, Danny always destroy those traps and gets rid of the food before it poison the living stray cats, Vlad plans to kill Jack always getting stopped by those cats is very humiliating and he doesn’t brag about any of it

Cujo is a good dog, he like to play with the cat boy a lot, playing is always fun for the puppy and he is happy to have a friends that doesn’t mind if he is bigger sometimes, Danny thinks Cujo is a very friendly dog that doesn’t mind cats, though he would prefer to not be licked so much, ghost dog saliva doesn’t smell good at all

[riverrunscold]

favorite thing about dbd Fandom is seeing people's headcanons of killers hanging out between trials. They're a family to me :,)

[theheadlessgroom]

@beatingheart-bride

"One of a kind..."

Susannah echoed this sentiment without even thinking about it, not even realizing she'd said it aloud as she let Philippe's poetry perspective on the Beast sink in, settling in her heart as she turned it over and over in her mind, trying to reconcile within herself both her own affinity for the Beast and her guest's surprising opinion on the matter.

For as long as she could remember, she had seen something monstrous in herself whenever she looked in the mirror: Despite her father's loving efforts to dissuade her from thinking so, she couldn't help but let the cold looks and harsh whispers burrow themselves beneath her skin, to convince her of what she felt was an ugly truth. That she was an unlovable beast, that no one in their right mind would ever love her, and that she had to make peace with that fact.

But Philippe de Clair's words came crashing through that fragile perception of herself like a stone through a window, smashing it all to pieces: If he could think this about the Beast, that he needn't change himself to find a happily ever after, did that mean that someone could do the same with her? That they could look upon her and see nothing that needed changing, and could love her all the same? It was hard to imagine, but a part of her clung to it nevertheless.

Snapping out of her reverie, she put on the wriest of smiles as she nodded, "I...I agree completely, M-Mr. de Clair."

[mocacheezy]

Having sensory issues that you haven't quite registered as proper, real and VALID issues yet can be real interesting. For example;

Me, overwhelmed and fuming with rage and anxiety: How can I fuckity fuck make this better?

*remembers that sunlight and seeing what's outside can make people feel less claustrophobic ergo lowering anxiety*

*forgets that bright lights and colors are a sensory FUCK NO when overwhelmed*

*partially opens the window shutters*

*closes the window shutters*

[magic-multicolored-miracle]

Why does this small creature that lives in my house get so Hangry?

[frostbite-the-bat]

the mentally illies are coming back so dont even look my way gamers or im gonna explode im entering Stressed Out And Oversensitive Over Small Things MODE !

[flamagenitus]

I'm cat-sitting for my dad and step-mother! Have some pictures

Immediately attacked me upon arrival (oops I messed up the picture layout)

Study buddies

This is the first time Jasmine (the tabby) has sat on me since she was a kitten!!

Very pleased about her new toy (she is usually dead silent, but kept meowing at me to play with her. I went to get more tea and she left the toy exactly where I had been sitting)

Kind of offended I had a shower while she was in the room

Siyah hiding from Jasmine behind the swiffer's handle

Silley time picture (ft bad selfie via my busted camera)

[Picture ID in alt]

[snaileer]

Danny sighs. Wanting to get up and pace. But he was on the bus. And you can’t pace on the bus unless you’re a crazy person.

Which…. would not look good considering the current circumstances.

He could always just not get off. That was totally still an option. He could just keep going. Maybe ride to Old Gotham. Go get pasta or a deli sandwich.

The ‘Stop Requested’ sign dinged.

The bus looped back around to his dorm apartment anyways. He didn’t have to get off.

Ah frick this was his.

Danny’s hand pulls the bus cord against his permission. Oh ancients too late now, he has to get off or the other people will think he’s rude for pulling the cord and not leaving.

Okay. Okay. He can do this. He can do this

Danny resisted the urge to shake his hands and jump in place as he waited for the doors to open.

Pep talk. Pep talk.

Pep talk totally working. Uh huh.

The bus is leaving. Ok. Now it’s really too late.

Danny checks the google map directions again. A 23 minute walk was not bad.

If only the destination wasn’t Arkham Asylum and he wasn’t visiting the Joker with a grieving self-help book.

Really the most important stage here was acceptance.

He started walking.

It hadn’t even originally wanted to bring the book personally but apparently there was a ‘mail ban.’ The book came Jazz recommended anyways so it would have to be worth it.

Danny tried to ignore the ectoplasm thickening in the air like soup as he got closer. Oh this was totally a normal thing to do.

Just convince the megalomaniac murder clown that he’s dead and a ghost and needs to pass on and everything will come out hunky-dory!

Danny gave a fake laugh to himself as he buzzed the entrance button and was let in.

The secretary looked at him like he was crazy when he told her who he was here to see. Which… fair.

He tried to explain that, quite genuinely, he did not want to be here either. But ghosts were kind of his problem ever since the portal and even if this one wasn’t his fault… it didn’t feel right to just let him run wild when Danny knew the problem.

He winced and pretended not to notice as she pressed an alarm button before letting him through the metal detectors and towards the cell.

Yay for armed escorts.

Now here he was. Dodging a self-help paper airplane from the Joker. Danny sighed again.

Why couldn’t ghosts just stay in the Zone?

The Joker is Dead (and always has been)

Danny is attending Gotham U and gets caught up in a Joker escapade and realizes the clown is, in fact, a ghost.

Suddenly everything makes an insane amount of sense: the fact that no one has killed a psycho with seemingly human-normal abilities yet, that Arkham can’t keep him for more than a week, the obsessive behavior, the appearance.

Honestly, Danny should have clocked this before he even met the spook.

And Danny doesn’t want to step on any toes, really. The Bat and the Joker have A Thing going on. But, the Batman just isn’t equipped to really put a ghost away. No wonder there’s a breakout from Arkham every couple of months. How many other Gotham rogues are obsessive ghosts haunting the city?

Joker doesn’t display any of the usual ghost powers he associates with his own “rogues”—who’ve really become more like unwanted relatives over the years what with their dropping in uninvited, making a mess, and then ditching before they had to help clean.

It strikes Danny, as he’s being tied up by the clown-costumed goons, that maybe the Joker doesn’t know.

Huh.

How does he broach the topic in a sensitive way?

“Hey, uh. Not to be rude but… You know you’re dead, right?”

Danny winces. Not like that, probably.

The Clown Prince of Crime stops in front of him, the crazed light in his eyes dimmed slightly by confusion. He glances back and forth between Danny and the students around him who are shying away from their insane classmate. (Which is. Fair.)

A menacing giggle warbles from the specter’s throat. He leans into Danny’s bubble, that eerie grin stretching somehow wider.

“Ohhhh really?” The clown draws it out and Danny can hear the crackle of static in the high notes. Honestly. How did no one figure this out before? “And are you gonna kill me, hmm? Have I got a widdle hero in my bait tank?”

“No, no, I mean, it’s not… you’re not… like? You’re not alive,” Danny rambles, trying to clarify and failing utterly. “You’re already dead.”

The Joker tilts his head, eyes dilating and glowing toxic green. He considers what Danny said, then throws his head back and cackles like a hyena.

The ghost doubles over, even, laughing so hard it sounds like he’s gonna bust something. He puts a white-gloved hand on Danny’s shoulder for support and squeezes, just shy of hurting.

After an uncomfortably long moment, the ghost wipes imaginary tears out of his eyes and pats Danny on the back so hard he stumbles and falls to his knee.

“You’re a riot, kid! If I didn’t have a date already planned…”

He trails off and ambles away, still chuckling and muttering to himself. “And they say I’m crazy! Wait til Bats hears about this!”

Danny watches him go, despondent.

It’s always harder when they don’t know.

This is gonna be a mess.

[lvminae]

Man I am sick of the daylight where are the clouds that keep it dark until night??? Please...

[hiddenbysuccubi]

I have Traumatized The Large One (Brushed her and made a whole other cat out of loose fur while she trustingly stayed still in my lap)

[joonieskinks]

simon ghost riley is sometimes a little blunt (warning: smut)

You adore him for who he is, but it still unnerves you with just how blunt he can be at times.

It usually happens privately with just you:

“In about 5 minutes, I’m gonna eat you out.” He says as you are in the middle of The Goblet of Fire on the couch. You almost choked on your popcorn.

Or you’re doing laundry in the morning. “We need pineapple juice next time we’re out, want you to enjoy swallowing next time you’re suckin me off.” Jaw dropped.

He does it in front of the team too- and sometimes it’s even worse:

You accidentally dropped your lip balm onto the bar floor while fishing it out of your purse and bend to pick it up.

“Haven’t seen that angle in a while, dove. It’s been too long since we done doggy.”

It’s a never-ending series of eyebrow raises when Simon decides to open up his mouth and you’re around, needless to say. You brunt all of the embarrassment and the deep blushes, Simon couldn’t give a shit. He didn’t even clock it when John, Johnny and Kyle would all give him shocked looks. Man just owns it. Completely unbothered.

“Youre wearin the skirt you wear when you wanna get fucked. That your goal?”

“Simon!” You hiss, you can feel the red hot heat rush to your face.

But he just stares back at you, waiting for your response. You can hardly believe how composed he is when his Captain is right there glaring at him.

“So?”

“I need another beer.” John excuses himself, he can’t even look you in the eyes right now. Kyle joins him shortly after making a run for it, but you’re left with a quiet Johnny patiently waiting for you to respond. Eager, almost. Joy.

“You can’t just say things like that in public, especially not in front of your friends!” You lecture, pulling down your skirt in the process.

“Why? If you wanted to fuck, you could’ve just said so, love. Give me 2 to down this pint and I’ll meet you in the toilets, yeah?”

“Simon!” You smack his thigh.

“Can I watch?” Johnny asks excitedly.

“No!-“ “Fine.”

Johnny’s face lights up while yours gives Simon a death stare.

“Do you want it or not?” You roll your eyes and throw your purse over your shoulder.

“You two are ridiculous.” And they watch you walk away.

Simon only shrugs, pounding back his beer before coming after you. Doesn’t make a difference to him if he fucks you here and now or at home and later.

“… so is that a no?” Johnny asks with puppy eyes.

[plasmagiiica]

like black people are present in every single fucking genre and scene and popularized and straight up created several but people are so fucking hell bent on finding every possible excuse to not engage with their music because its easier than trying to confront their own racism. like okay well if its truly just a disinterest in most rap music then surely you listen to black artists in other genres right? who am i fucking kidding. of course you dont.

[plutotheplum]

The First Fall of Snow

emperor!zayne x concubine!reader - read part 2!

summary: the emperor isn't interested in his concubines, but an encounter with you is enough to change his mind.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, p in v, oral sex, praise kink, breast play, masturbation, thigh riding, mentions of exhibitionism, virginity loss

wc: 7.7k

a/n: i did imagine long-haired zayne for this (like his master of fate card!) and he just gives off emperor vibes soooo

also on ao3!

The Emperor was a peculiar man. 

He was not a man who fancied company. When the years for marriage had passed, his royal advisors had grown increasingly anxious. All potential candidates were refused, princesses from far lands given profuse apologies and lavish gifts in hopes of quelling their anger after they had traveled such vast distances, only for the Emperor to turn them away. 

In an effort to try and draw out the Emperor’s romantic and sexual nature, several concubines were gathered. The Emperor had never overseen this, the affair carried out in veiled whispers as his advisors had sought to dispel their desperation by pooling their efforts into securing an heir for the dynasty. 

That was what you were told when you arrived in the palace anyways. It had been a year since you were hand-picked as a concubine, along with a few other girls who had been eager to accept when the opportunity had been provided to them.

You had only met the Emperor a handful of times, when you first been brought to the palace and during private meetings that had been scheduled. He had never touched you or any of the other girls, had never sought after pleasure or secured an heir, much to the chagrin of Imperial staff. Like any other person, you thought it was odd. 

Part of you felt as though you were wasting away in this palace, days spent outside by the pretty gardens and overlooking the fish in the ponds, entertaining stray cats or inside, like you were now.

You stare down at the steaming water in the teapot, watching as the tea leaves stain the water. The blurry reflection of your face looks back up at you and there’s a soft sigh escaping you, wondering what might’ve been if you hadn’t been chosen.

Such thoughts are lost when a short, stout man comes hobbling in. He grabs at your arm, teacup filled with hot tea tipping to the side. You wince when the hot liquid lands against your skin, burning you.

“The Emperor needs tea,” the eunuch hisses, pulling another set of teaware from the shelves as he tugs you closer.

“Why does that involve me?,” you ask, trying to free yourself so you can soothe your irritated skin under cool water.

“You will deliver it to him,” he says, fiddling with your robes and straightening out the fabric to make you look more presentable.

“Have another one of the girls-” you begin to complain, shrinking away when he sends you a glare.

You huff out a breath, making sure the pin in your hair is in place. There’s no time to tend to the burn on your forearm, the reddened skin hidden by the sleeves of your robes as the eunuch passes you the tray. 

Sending him a glare of your own, you don’t stay behind to be chastised. Feet padding against the floor, you pass through the courtyard and hallway. Imperial guards stand outside the Emperor’s quarters and you bow your head, stating your business. 

One of the guards opens the doors and you suck in a sharp breath, gathering your confidence as you step inside the Emperor’s quarters. 

It’s a familiar place. The room is large, scrolls stacked upon shelves tucked against the walls, decorative screens partitioning the entrance to where his bed was placed. You swallow nervously, eyes blinking about. You can’t seem to find the Emperor. Deciding to step forward, you’re pushing your luck, sticking your head outside the open doors at the other end of his quarters. It opens into a private courtyard, greenery pruned to perfection.

There’s a frown pulling at your lips when you can’t see him. Perhaps he had left? Just as you’re about to give up, a man clears his throat. You jolt in place, tea sloshing as you struggle to keep a hold on the tray. Whirling around, you find the Emperor standing there, his arms crossed over his chest. There’s a curse entering your mind, placing the tea tray down on a table nearby before your knees are bending, meeting the floor as you bow in a seated position.

“Please forgive me, your majesty” you breathe out, eyes squeezing shut. 

You would rather not feel the wrath of the Emperor.

“I did not ask for tea,” he says bluntly.

“The- the eunuch insisted,” you supply lamely.

The Emperor only sighs and your eyes are peeking open, head tilting slightly as you try to get a glimpse of his expression. 

“You may stand,” he murmurs, waving his hand. You do as he says, stumbling to your feet, teeth gritting together when the cloth of your robes rubs against the still fresh burn on your forearm.

He takes a seat on a cushioned mat and you’re standing awkwardly, trying to taper down your fidgeting as the pain flares up again.

“Is something the matter?” the Emperor asks when he sees your inability to stand still. 

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. The Emperor only stares at you, unimpressed. His gaze drags over you and your cheeks are flushing in embarrassment. 

“Sit,” he says suddenly, pointing to the space across from him.

“I-” you begin to refuse, restless to get out of this stifling place and tend to the burn that was currently beginning to sting.

“Sit, or will you refuse an Imperial command?”

To refuse an Imperial command is to forfeit one’s life. It’s why you’re sitting down in a flurry and looking everywhere at everything except him. 

“Arm,” he murmurs, holding his hand out.

You extend your arm towards his hand without question. He hums when he brushes the sleeves away, moving your arm closer to his eyes so he can examine the burn. The Emperor’s lithe fingers prod at the edges of your reddened skin, and a whimper slips out of you, the tender skin sensitive.

He pulls away from you and your eyes are darting towards the doors, wondering whether it would be worth it to make a break for it. The Emperor returns soon after, a small pot in his hand, containing some sort of salve.

“Your majesty, it is beneath you to tend to such a matter,” you remind him, feeling his cool fingers wrap around your arm again.

“Perhaps so, but I happen to take interest in the ailments of the body,” he replies, spreading the salve against your skin.

So the rumors were true then. Many spoke of the Emperor’s affinity for the study of medicine. You had assumed he would’ve taken more interest in other pursuits such as hunting, but it appeared the Emperor valued intellect above all else. 

As the salve soothes your skin, you find your gaze slipping over him. Pale skin, intelligent eyes framed by dark eyelashes, a strong nose and long hair tied back neatly, there was no doubt that the Emperor was a handsome man. 

His eyes flick up to meet yours, his own gaze dipping over you once again. You feel as though you’re being scrutinized, so you’re sitting up straighter, trying to not present yourself as a mess.

“He sent you here to entice me,” the Emperor explains, beginning to wrap your wound using a thin, silken cloth.

“Oh. Is- is it working?” you ask tentatively.

“If you consider making a fool of yourself enticing, then maybe so,” he says, the side of his mouth curling up as amusement flashes through his eyes.

There’s a sharp scoff leaving you, arm tugging free from his grasp. The bandages are tight around your arm and you send him a frown, placing your hands in your lap.

“You take liberties that others do not,” he sighs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I apologize, your majesty,” you whisper, head hanging low. He was right, you were taking liberties. 

“Zayne,” he says, opening a scroll.

“Your- your majesty?” you reply, confusion flitting across your face.

“Zayne,” he repeats, not bothering to even spare you a glance “you may address me by my name.”

You hold your tongue in return, eyes narrowing as you stare at the Emperor. It must be a trick of some sort, you think, a ploy to make you slip up, and just like the traitors of the Empire, your head would be severed from your neck. 

“You would distrust my own command?” he asks, sensing your hesitation. “I never said such a thing!” you protest, exasperation spreading across your face.

Sitting in place, you pout to yourself, tracing random shapes onto the cushioned mat. Zayne ignores your presence and it has you fidgeting even more, a huff of air leaving you. 

The Emperor only continues to read the scroll in his hands. Pouring out some tea, you decide to indulge yourself. Your face contorts when you taste the now lukewarm liquid. It’s hardly enjoyable. Letting out another deep sigh, your body sags. There’s nothing for you to do here, the Emperor won’t carry a conversation and you only find that you’re making a fool of yourself even more.

“Shall I leave?” you ask him, feeling hopeful that you might be able to escape.

Zayne shakes his head. 

“Stay a little while. It would do good for my advisors to think they have succeeded.”

“Succeeded?” you echo, brows furrowing.

“They expect an heir,” he sighs, setting down the scroll to give you his full attention, “surely you are aware of my… aversion to the entire matter.”

“I cannot say I understand,” you murmur, “you need an heir, and an illegitimate heir is an heir nonetheless.”

“The duty will be fulfilled when I am ready,” he says firmly.

Your head tilts at that, eyes narrowing. When he was ready? There would be no reason for the Emperor to not be ready.

“Other noblemen take pleasure in using women’s bodies,” you mutter, peering over at him, “it is strange that you have not yet touched any one of us.”

“You wish for me to use you?” Zayne asks, raising his brows. 

“N- no! I just meant, it is odd that an Emperor whose rule has granted him anything he may possibly desire chooses not to engage in anything,” the words come out of you in a rush, your cheeks flushing. 

“And have you engaged in anything?” he shoots back, his eyes sharp.

Admitting your own virginity wasn’t on your plan of things to do today. Your cheeks are hot with embarrassment, eyes averted to the side. Your silence is answer enough, and Zayne sighs, his fingers rubbing at his temples.

“I did not ask for concubines,” he says quietly, “and so, I do not expect you to serve me in such a fashion.”

“You may leave,” he says after a few moments, standing up with you.

Your head tilts, teeth worrying into your lower lip as he stares down at you.

“It appears you care for me,” he murmurs, his hand lifting to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

Your heart flutters at the unexpected action, eyes widening when he touches you.

“Only for the dynasty,” you breathe out.

Zayne lets out a low laugh at that. He gives you a faint smile and your heart stutters in your chest. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a man look so ethereal, but such is the favor of the gods.

It’s probably why you’re leaning forward, hands reaching to fix the crumpled collar of his silk robes. He stiffens under your touch and you pretend as though you don’t notice. Your fingers graze his skin and his hand curls around your wrist, stopping your movements.

“I shall expect you here in a week’s time,” he says.

“A week’s time,” you nod, feeling his fingers touch the cloth wrapped around your burn.

The Emperor lowers his head, his fingers gripping your chin gently so he can stare into your eyes more intently. He seems lost in thought as he swipes his thumb over your chin, his head nearing until you can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. 

It’s almost too much for your racing heart. Your already half-lidded eyes are slipping shut, lips parting as you lean in closer, waiting for him to kiss you. But it never comes and your eyes flutter open to see Zayne staring down at you with a hint of mirth in his eyes. He was making a fool of you yet again. 

To preserve whatever dignity you have left, you’re pulling away, freeing yourself from his suffocating grasp. Bowing in deference, you don’t look back to see his expression, pushing past the doors as you leave his quarters.

Almost immediately, you’re met with the eunuch from earlier.

“Well?” he asks, his cheeks puffed with exertion as he tries to keep up with the pace you’ve set in an attempt to escape questioning.

“Nothing happened,” you reply curtly, looking back to see the short man totter after you.

“Nothing?” he repeats, voice laced with irritation, “not even-“ his voice lowers, mindful of the other staff working in the palace, “he did not even touch you?” 

You shake your head. He doesn’t need to know that the Emperor had indeed touched you; tended to your burn even, that you were hoping the Emperor would hold you close and kiss you, and he most certainly didn’t need to know about your little displays of insolence. 

The eunuch soon loses interest in you, grumbling curses under his breath as you retire to your own chambers shared with the other girls. It’s no secret that many of them have become bored with the Emperor’s apathetic outlook, some turning their charms to try and garner the affections of noblemen at court.

-

It’s raining the day you’re meant to meet the Emperor. 

You step inside his chambers when the guards permit you, your hands clasped in front of you.

“Your majesty” you bend at the waist, bowing.

Zayne hums in response, striding closer to you. His fingers lift your arm, undoing the gauze to uncover your injury. The salve he had applied to your skin had soothed the burn, and it had begun to heal nicely. 

“I told you to address me by my name,” he reminds you, his brows furrowed in concentration as he examines your skin, “must I remind you again, or will phrasing it as an Imperial command suffice?”

Your mouth opens automatically to retort sharply. He looks at you, brows raised. Spending more time in his presence has only vexed you, irritation making you almost forget who you were with. Mouth clamping shut, you send him a tight-lipped smile. 

“Forgive me,” you say begrudgingly, “Zayne.”

“Better,” he murmurs.

You don’t know whether he’s referring to your obedience or the state of your wound. 

“It will scar,” Zayne continues, turning your arm so that he can see your skin in better light.

“Badly?” you ask, a frown tugging at your lips.

“More salve will lessen the effect,” he says, finally letting go of your arm.

You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. The Emperor stares at you, his gaze unwavering. It has you wishing that you hadn’t listened to his request at all. The palace physician would have more than likely provided you with the necessary treatment, and yet here you were, being tended to by the Emperor of all people.

“Do you wish for me to repay you?” the words are out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.

“Did we not already have this conversation?” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I had assumed-”

“Do not assume anything.”

Zayne’s voice has hardened, the slight softness in his eyes no longer present. You’ve overstepped. He pulls away from you, turning his back to you as he walks towards the open doors of his quarters. Rain wets the inside, the mats on the floor darkening but the Emperor doesn’t seem to care.

Feeling like a scolded child, you trail after him.

“Forgive me,” you whisper, keeping your gaze trained on the floor.

It seems to be all that you’re doing now. Apology after apology after apology. It’s a miracle you haven’t yet been executed for your impertinence. 

He turns to face you, his hand lifting. For a moment you think he’s about to slap you, a grimace settling on your face as you await the stinging punishment. Instead, all you feel is his hand on your head, petting you like you were some sort of unruly cat.

Zayne’s fingers begin to slip and you can feel the soft tips of his fingers graze the side of your face, traveling lower as he traces your jawline. You hold still, eyes wide with anticipation. He doesn’t stop, his fingers dragging down the length of your neck, parting your robes until you feel his fingers swipe across your collarbone. 

“You are stubborn,” he says softly, “steadfast and oddly endearing. Perhaps I should keep you by my side.”

You stare up at him, jaw slackening, baffled. 

“I thought you would appreciate it,” he murmurs, the sharpness in his eyes returning, “just moments ago you were offering yourself to me.”

It’s a struggle to bite back the whimper that so eagerly wants to escape when his fingers drag lower, skimming across the soft skin of the tops of your breasts. His other hand plays with the knot tied at the side, nimble fingers untying the only thing keeping your robes together. The soft fabric slips from your shoulders and you find yourself in front of the Emperor, breasts bared.

He lets out a low hum, both of his hands coming to cup your breasts. Your teeth have been biting into your lip so hard that you can taste the tang of blood on your tongue. Zayne swipes his thumbs over your nipples and you find yourself unable to rip free from his wandering touch. 

“Should you not tell me to stop?” the Emperor asks, his face nearing yours.

There’s no will left in you to answer, a sharp gasp escaping you when he pinches your nipples to punctuate his question. The sensation only adds to the wetness pooling between your thighs.

“Please,” you whimper, the desperation clear in your eyes, “please, Zayne.”

“I may have the favor of the gods, but I cannot foresee your desires,” he whispers, the tip of his nose brushing yours, “tell me. What is it you want?”

“Kiss,” you manage out, “kiss me, please.”

The Emperor’s hands haven’t stopped their exploration, squeezing and groping at your breasts. Zayne lowers his head, forehead pressing against yours as you mewl and whimper under the onslaught of his caressing touches. The ache between your thighs has become unbearable with the way he plays with your nipples. He tugs and pinches, thumbs swiping over your areolas to grant you reprieve before rolling your nipples between his fingers again. 

“Wantonness has made you far more polite,” he whispers, lips brushing against yours.

It’s not a kiss, and you’re squirming in frustration with the way the Emperor is stringing you along, driving you to the edge of pleasure and yet refusing to grant you what you desire the most. 

“I- I can be even more polite,” you mumble pathetically, hands curling into his robes.

You chase after his lips, brows furrowing when he draws up to his full height, smiling down at you. Lips jutting out into a pout, you stand on the tips of your toes, trying to tug him back down so you can kiss him. It’s a futile endeavor, the Emperor only manages to evade all of your attempts to draw him into a kiss. 

“I shall look forward to it,” Zayne murmurs, his lips pressing against your forehead gently.

There’s no way to discern what exactly is going through the Emperor’s mind. He no longer continues with his lustful touches, pulling away with a final caress of your breasts as he pulls your loosened robes over your shoulders again. You can only watch with dazed eyes, frozen in place as he helps redo the knot holding your robes together, covering you up properly so that unnecessary slivers of skin aren’t showing anymore. 

“Do you do this with the others?” you ask, eyes finding his.

“Does the thought make you jealous?”

You frown at his retort, sending him a glare, “the Emperor may do as he wishes,” you grumble.

It’s hard to hide the jealousy that underlies your words. You want to be the only person he touches, to be the object of his affections. It’s a selfish desire to want the Emperor to need you only, but you can’t help yourself, envy flaring up inside of you at the thought of him touching another woman the way he touches you. 

“You are the first to elicit such a reaction from me,” Zayne says, his fingers tilting your head so he can stare into your eyes more directly.

Letting out an irritated huff, you feel irked by his subtle way of trying to please you. He doesn’t reply to your display of irritation, nudging his forehead against yours as though trying to convey his affection. 

“Go now,” he whispers, petting your hair again before he’s moving away, turning his back to you as he returns to peer out at the rain that falls outside.

You have half the mind to call him out on his behavior, but the reminder of your position is the stifling reality in which you live in. Despite his gaze elsewhere, you bow to him, turning on your heel to leave.

Thankfully, there are no lurking eunuchs to question your brief stay in the Emperor’s quarters. The palace staff don’t pay you any mind as you return to your chambers, and you explain to the other girls that you feel sick. 

The whimpers that spill from your mouth are muffled by the pillow that you’ve pressed your face into, the fingers of one hand rubbing at your clit and the other hand pinching at your nipples as you try to mimic the way the Emperor had touched you. With the image of Zayne’s face ingrained into your mind, it doesn’t take long, a soft moan escaping into the quiet of your chambers as you come apart on your fingers. 

-

You’re spying on the Emperor. 

The past year had been plenty of time to explore the palace and figure out the little passageways that weren’t well known. Perhaps you were just as bad as his advisors that were intent on prying into Zayne’s private life, but you just couldn’t help yourself. 

It’s why you’re here now, hovering outside his quarters, pretending to take great interest in the portraits that line the halls. Every now and then, your eyes flick over to where the guards stand, trying to discern whether anyone was entering or leaving his chambers. 

You almost feel pathetic for acting in such a way, but he was the only thing you could think about. Visiting the gardens had grown dull, despite the leaves turning into pretty shades of orange and red in the autumn air, thoughts of the Emperor taking root in the crevices of your mind instead. 

“My grandfather,” a deep voice breaks through your thoughts. You don’t have to look to know who it is.

“Handsome,” you mutter, taking a step closer to examine the portrait genuinely this time.

“My guards have complained about a woman hiding in the hallways,” Zayne says, his hand falling onto your shoulder. “I did not realize it was an offense to admire fine art,” you shoot back.

“There are far finer things in this palace,” he murmurs, stepping forward until you’ve been backed up against the wall.

It’s becoming more and more apparent to you that the Emperor must be suffering some sort of illness to the mind. You struggle to come up with a reason as to why his arm curls around your waist, whilst he presses himself closer. 

You try and push at his firm chest, but he doesn’t budge.

“People will see,” you whisper heatedly, eyes darting to the sides despite Zayne being so close that you can hardly see anything but him.

“So let them.”

Zayne reaches out, his hand cupping your cheek. You stiffen under the sudden touch, eyes widening when his thumb brushes over your skin.

“Why are you doing this?” you whisper, frowning.

“Is my mind not allowed to change?” he asks in return, head lowering until his forehead is pressed against yours.

“I am far more concerned that you have lost your mind.”

The Emperor lets out a deep chuckle and you think the air around you both has somehow grown thicker with how lightheaded you’re feeling.

“I assure you, I am still of sound mind.”

His nose brushes against yours, and you rise to meet the challenge, nose nudging against his gently. The heat of his body is intoxicating, his arm tightening around your waist as he exhales. Your eyes flutter shut, anticipating the feeling of his lips against yours.

It’s not to be, not when an Imperial guard insists on interrupting your moment with the Emperor.

“Is this woman bothering you?” the guard asks, his gaze dragging over you with obvious disregard. 

The utter nerve. Eye twitching, you ready yourself to snap back but Zayne’s squeeze to your waist has you staying silent.

“She was feeling ill,” Zayne lies steadily. 

The Emperor’s mask of cool indifference slips over him easily, his lips pulled thin as he speaks to the guard. 

“I shall escort her to the physician,” the guard offers, his hand reaching for you.

Zayne pulls you out of reach before the guard can touch you, tucking you against his side.

“No need,” Zayne says, “I shall take her myself.”

You can almost hear the nervous gulp that the guard takes, his face paling at the Emperor’s stony disposition. Unfortunately, you don’t get long to revel in the satisfaction that spreads through your body when Zayne reprimands the guard. Zayne tugs you along, his hand wrapped around your wrist. It appears the Emperor knows of the passages as well, and a few twists and turns later you find yourself back in the Emperor’s quarters, having bypassed the Imperial guards.

“Did you see his face?” you snicker, looking over at Zayne.

Your smile fades when he doesn’t reply, the grip on your wrist almost painful without how firmly his hand is still holding onto you.

“Zayne? Are you-”

You nearly trip over your own feet when he suddenly pulls you closer. Zayne’s lips are slotting over yours, his large hands cupping your cheeks as he kisses you. There’s a small noise of surprise coming from you, eyes widening before they flutter shut, your body lulled into submission with the feverish kisses Zayne gives you.

He groans into your mouth and you cling to his robes, rising up on the tips of your toes to meet his kisses better. The Emperor might’ve been starved with the way he’s kissing you, his lips firm and insistent against yours whilst he holds you in place. 

Zayne pulls away after a while, and you’re completely and utterly dazed, chest heaving as soft pants fill the space between you both.

“Will you have me?” he whispers, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek.

No man has ever spoken such words to you. Your breath catches in your throat, heart clenching uncomfortably in your chest. As the Emperor, he shouldn’t say such a thing. 

“It is beneath you to ask,” you murmur, averting your gaze.

“And yet, I am asking,” Zayne replies, his hands maneuvering your head until you have no choice but to look into his eyes.

Letting out an irritated huff, as though he had somehow inconvenienced you, you lean forward and press a chaste kiss against his lips. You can’t bring yourself to say the words out loud, feeling uncharacteristically shy as you shift on the spot.

“I see.”

Zayne’s surging towards you again, lips crashing onto yours. You whimper, hands scrabbling at his shoulders as you press yourself closer. His arms are wrapping around your waist, keeping you flush against him as he ravages your mouth. His tongue is teasing your lower lip, coaxing it open. You have no choice but to obey, letting out a muffled moan when his tongue slides deeper into your mouth, his hand pulling at the pin holding your hair together. 

You squeak when he picks you up, his lips trailing burning kisses down your neck as he nudges the partition blocking his way to his bed. Zayne undoes the knot holding your robes together before long, your thighs straddling his hips as you sit perched on his lap once he sits down on his bed.

“Have you really never given yourself to anyone?” Zayne asks quietly, his fingers tracing across the soft skin of your shoulders.

You nod, body leaning forward to chase after his touch as his fingers find their way back down to your nipples, rolling the pebbled buds between the pads of his fingers.

“H- have you?” you ask, biting your lip as he presses heated kisses against your collarbone.

He shakes his head, lips drifting lower and lower, until your body twitches as his lips enclose around your nipple. A whimper leaves you, and Zayne grows bolder with his movements, sucking harshly as his tongue swirls around your nipple, flicking the little bud in his mouth.

Your hands have drifted into his hair, pulling free the band that holds his long locks together. His dark hair runs past his shoulders, the strands soft under your touch as you pull at his hair, moaning as he continues his exploration across your chest.

Zayne looks up at you with half-lidded eyes, spit-slick lips dragging across your chest to pepper kisses against your other breast, his mouth enveloping your nipple yet again. He lets out a low groan and you whine, pulling at his robes desperately to pull them off.

“Oh,” you breathe out when he lets you, biting your lip at the sight of his bare chest and abdomen. Your fingers spread across his chest eagerly, mapping out the expanse of his skin. There’s a sly smile spreading across your face when you see his cheeks flush pink as your fingers drag lower, past his navel.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks hoarsely, his head tipping back.

“Should I not?” you whisper, fingers delving lower until you can feel his hardness through his robes.

You rub your hand against the bulge experimentally, eyes lighting up when he lets out a grunt. Face tucking into the crook of his neck, your breasts squished against his chest, you place hungry kisses against his neck, palming at his bulge.

The Emperor tugs at your hair, pulling your head back. You stare up at him, meeting him in the middle when he leans forward, sharing a sloppy kiss. His hands squeeze at your waist and you shift in his lap, letting him undress you completely.

Nervousness flits across your face as he stares at your bare body, hands leaving him to cover yourself up. He grabs your hands before you can, placing a soft kiss to your jaw.

“You are beautiful,” he whispers, lips drifting to kiss the shell of your ear.

A shy smile pulls at your lips and he squeezes your waist again. Your brows furrow when he jostles you, making you straddle his thigh instead.

“I want to watch,” Zayne says, his fingers dimpling into the fat of your thighs.

“Watch?” you echo, head tilting in question.

“I want to watch you come undone,” he clarifies, gripping your hips as he guides you into grinding against his thigh.

A strangled noise leaves you and he pats your hip, satisfied. You’re so aroused that your slick has begun to wet his silken robes, the fabric darkening as you roll your hips, dragging your pussy against his thigh.

“I- I want to watch you too,” you gasp out.

Zayne obliges and you watch as he pulls his cock free. The sight is almost enough to have you coming on his covered thigh. His fingers wrap around his cock and you whine, hips rolling faster. “Is it to your satisfaction?” he murmurs.

You nod rapidly. It is. You’ve never seen one before, but you just know Zayne’s is pretty compared to the others. His cock is thick, flushed prettily at the tip to match the blush on his cheeks and you lick your lips, wondering what it might feel like in your mouth. 

“Another time,” Zayne says, smiling when he sees the expression on your face.

It’s entrancing to watch the way his hand drags up and down his cock, his long fingers wrapped around himself. Globs of pre-cum bead at the tip, wetting his hands and his cock, creating a sinful sound. Unable to help yourself, you tilt your head, tongue lolling out as you let your own spit drip down onto his cock. You hum in delight when his thighs twitch, your eyes peering into his as you drag your cunt against his thigh, clit catching on the fabric of his robes just right. 

“I did not know my concubine was so depraved,” he murmurs, his hand kneading the flesh at your hip roughly.

You give him a dopey smile, eyes slipping back down to watch his hand move around his cock whilst you rock your hips. Head falling against his shoulder, your lips drag across his chest, landing soft kisses against his skin before nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, nipping his skin lightly.

Airy sounds fill the air, his quiet moans and your soft whimpers emanating in his quarters. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you press yourself closer, guiding his head into another kiss. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth with no hesitation. Zayne’s pulling apart suddenly, his previous desire of watching you come undone on your thigh forgotten as he manhandles your body, making you lay down against his bed.

The Emperor kisses you over and over, and your head is swirling, trying to keep up whilst his fingers have found their way down to your pussy, rubbing your wetness across the sensitive flesh before he finds your clit. All it takes is one firm press of his thumb, your thighs twitching violently as you grasp at the sheets, moaning loudly as you come. He smiles against your lips, granting you one last kiss before he directs his attention elsewhere, his face disappearing between your thighs.

“Z-Zayne!” you squeal, pushing at his head, trying to get him to stop as the overstimulation becomes too much.

The Emperor ignores you in favor of thumbing apart your folds, his eyes trained on your clit.

“Pretty” he whispers, the pads of his fingers stroking over your clit gently, “and so, so swollen.”

It has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and he kisses the inside of your thighs, edging closer to your pussy, letting out a low breath, the air hitting your exposed pussy.

He groans when you tug at his hair, and you writhe, trying to somehow free yourself from the onslaught of his tongue as he laves over your pussy, pressing sloppy kisses against your skin, his lips latching onto your swollen clit. Zayne’s tongue flicks against the sensitive bud, teasing you.

Something between a moan and a scream climbs its way out your throat, the sound ringing in through his chambers as you come again, thighs firmly squeezing his head. Your eyes widen when you realize the guards are still outside the doors, panic flaring through your body as you scramble to sit up.

Zayne’s hand slides over your mouth before you can get anything out, the stern look in his eyes making you go still. The rapping of the guard’s knuckles against the door has you rigid, eyes widening in alarm as he begins to move his tongue yet again. 

You glare at Zayne, tugging at his hair roughly to make it hurt as you attempt to get his mouth off of you. Zayne only gives you a hazy look, looking utterly gone as he presses his face deeper into your cunt. It’s a struggle to keep the noises in, your body shaking as his nose rubs into your clit and his tongue fucks in and out of your aching hole. 

“Your majesty?” An urgent voice calls out from behind the door, and you can hear the faint scuffling noises of the guards’ boots. 

“Someone get this door open!” another voice hisses, the sliding doors rattling soon after.

The Emperor grunts into your cunt, raising up finally. The sight of him is nearly enough to make you come for a third time. Zayne is utterly disheveled, his cheeks pink and the lower half of his face glistening with your slick. 

You watch as he runs his hand through his hair, biting your lip as you let your gaze wander, catching on his cock once again. He looks painfully hard, cum smeared across his skin and drool is pooling in your mouth. Getting onto your knees, you crawl forward eager to envelop it in your mouth.

The tip makes its way into your mouth for a brief moment and you can barely suck when Zayne is yanking you off of his cock, his hand curled into your hair. 

“Everything is fine,” the Emperor snaps, narrowing his eyes when you pout.

“We heard-”

“I said,” Zayne’s voice grows louder, “everything is fine.”

You think he might take out his wrath on you with the way he grips your cheeks roughly, planting another kiss to your lips. He’s manhandling you yet again, pushing at your shoulders to make you lie down as he settles his hips between your thighs.

Zayne’s cum smears against your skin and you whimper when the fat tip of his cock nudges against your clit. He lands a gentler kiss to your cheek, his hand cupping your cheek as you squirm under him, whimpering as he grinds his cock against your cunt.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his face pressing into the crook of your neck as he lets his cock slide up and down against your folds, “my good girl.”

“Yours,” you agree, cheek squishing against the pillow, “all yours.”

“I want to see you like this all the time,” Zayne confesses, his hand grasping his cock to press it firmly against your cunt, coating it with your arousal, “all flustered and needy… perhaps I am losing my sanity.”

You need him inside of you. The emptiness in your pussy has made you all too aware, hips bucking with every drag of his heavy cock.

“More,” you whisper, voice slurring, “Zayne, I want more.”

Zayne draws back slightly and you watch as he squeezes his cock, pre-cum dripping steadily onto your thigh. He reaches for your hand, fingers lacing with yours.

“Ready?” he murmurs.

You nod, swallowing down your nervousness. He presses his cock into your hole and the stretch is uncomfortable, a pained whimper leaving you as Zayne guides his cock into you. 

“A little more,” he coaxes, kissing your forehead to try and distract you from the initial stretch.

He finally pushes his entire cock in, and you feel as though the air has been punched out of your lungs. Zayne fills you up so perfectly, his cock snug inside your cunt, the emptiness from earlier disappearing almost immediately.

It appears you have affected him just as much, his eyes squeezed shut as he pants into the crook of your neck, trying to get used to the wet heat of your cunt. 

“Perfect,” he mutters mindlessly, and you can feel the twitch of his cock from inside of you, “so- so perfect and warm and tight.”

A hazy smile drifts across your face, legs locking tighter around his hips as your pussy clenches around him.

Zayne lets out a ragged gasp, and you know he can feel it. His eyes bore into yours, brows pulled together in annoyance at your little tease.

“Little minx,” he hisses.

It’s you that gasping this time when he draws his hips back, nails clawing at his back as he thrusts into you. His cock is stretching you out, over and over, as he tries to press it in deeper, trying to carve a path from your pussy to your heart.

“Too- too much!” you wail, arms wrapping around his neck to cling onto him.

“Do you want the guards to hear?” Zayne murmurs against your ear, his hips slowing slightly.

Through the haze of it all, your head turns, eyes finding his. The truth is, you wouldn’t exactly be opposed to the idea. Zayne can see the flash of interest in your eyes and he lets out a hoarse laugh, shaking his head.

“I should have taken you sooner,” he mutters, his fingers squeezing at your hips, “kept you close to me from the beginning.”

You preen at the thought, pressing sloppy kisses against his jaw, feeling his cock drag in and out of you.

“Next time, I shall take you on my throne.”

Your movements pause, eyes widening as he whispers those words, his lips brushing across yours.

“Not like that-” you begin to say, cheeks flushing deeper as you imagine him taking you on his throne, his hips rutting into yours like they were now.

“Why not?” he asks, “Shall I command it? Have-” Zayne lets out a shuddering breath “have my entire court watch as my pretty, little concubine loses her mind, drunk on my cock as I claim her atop my throne?”

You moan unabashedly, cunt clenching around him tightly. Zayne grunts, his hips stuttering when at the feeling of your walls tightening before he’s gripping your thigh, his chest flush against yours as he picks up the pace. It’s no secret that the guards must have heard what was happening inside, your loud moans most likely drifting through the wood of the doors. Both you and the Emperor don’t seem to care, lost in the blur of lust that swirls between you both.

“Deeper,” you mumble, pouting up at him, “need- need you closer, Zayne.”

“You are going to be the death of me,” Zayne mutters, dropping his weight on top of you.

You mewl in delight, the feeling of his body against yours deliciously warm. He hikes your thighs up a little higher, hips pressing deeper until you gasp. You can feel his balls pressed snugly against your ass, his cock as deep inside of you as it could go.

“Take it,” he whispers, his hand beginning to stroke your hair as he moves his hips. Short, sharp thrusts that serve to bury his cock into your cunt the way you want, “take it, my love.”

My love. Skin against skin. His hand stroking your hair gently. Girthy cock filling you up perfectly.

The sensations mixed with his affection are too much, pulling at your heart uncomfortably until you let out a sniffle, staring up at him with glassy eyes.

Concern passes through his eyes when he hears you sniffle, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb swipes away a stray tear that beads at the corner of your eye.

“Am I hurting you?” Zayne asks softly.

You shake your head, lips trembling even more at his display of concern. 

“I just like you a lot is all,” you whisper, sniffling quietly.

“I like you too,” Zayne replies in kind, his lips pressing soft kisses against your cheek, “and I take care of what’s mine.”

He leans down, lips pressing against yours in a tender kiss. Your tears wet his cheeks as he keeps you there, kissing you gently whilst his hips roll into you.

“Let go for me, my love” he murmurs, and you’re clenching around him again, feeling his hand sneak its way between your bodies as his thumb rubs against your clit.

You whimper, head pressing back as you arch your back, the sensation of his cock and his fingers driving you further and further to the edge until he latches his mouth onto your breast, catching your nipple between his teeth. He bites down and a broken moan fills the air, body shuddering as you come on his cock.

“Oh fuck,” Zayne grits out when he feels the harsh clench of your cunt around his cock.

You can feel him bury his face into your chest and you reach up weakly, running your fingers through his hair. It’s enough to have him letting out a guttural noise against your chest, his fat cock twitching as his thick cum floods your pussy.

The Emperor lays on top of you, both of your bodies loosened completely. You whimper when he pulls out of you, his cum beginning to leak out from your cunt. Zayne stares at the sight for a moment, entranced, before pulling you closer, letting you press your face into his chest as he kisses your forehead. 

“Everyone will know by now,” you whisper.

“They will,” he agrees, his fingers prying your face away from where it hides.

Zayne peers down into your eyes, a faint smile playing across his lips as he swipes his thumbs against your skin.

“Stay here with me,” he says quietly, “by my side.”

You laugh softly at his proposition.

“I am your concubine,” you murmur, reaching up to curl your hand around his wrist, “nothing more.”

“You will be more,” Zayne insists, his voice hardening,  “I will have you.”

“Your advisors would not allow it!” you protest, eyes turning glassy again.

“Desperation will make them vulnerable to acceptance,” he retorts, his body pressing closer as though to keep you tethered to him, hands tightening around your cheeks.

“I am the Emperor,” he continues, forehead pressing against yours as his eyes bore into yours, “you said it yourself. I may do as I wish, and what I wish for is for you to be by my side.”

You swallow harshly, blinking up at him when you hear the sternness of his voice. He doesn’t give you a chance to reply, kissing you desperately.

“Stay with me, my love” he whispers again, stealing kiss after kiss from you.

“Okay,” you relent, sinking into his embrace and returning his kisses just as desperately, “okay.”

The Emperor holds you close to his chest, his arms wrapped around you tightly. The heat of his body has your eyes drooping shut, his lips brushing over your forehead as he whispers sweet promises of his love.

Outside, far away from the warmth of love’s embrace, the first fall of snow has begun to drift from the sky.

[moechies]

riding toji ; what a pain ! 。・゜・(ノД`)・゜・。

finger in butt :o , riding , faux dubcon , anal mention

ever since he asked you to get on top, he was whipped. he doesn’t think there’s anything better than this, pretty tits bouncing up in his face, your twitching cunny fervently around his cock, and your desperate grapples at his arm for help. oh, this is perfect; this is what life is all about.

he especially loves when you give up, your soft body plaint against his bulky, hot one as you hide your flushed face in the cove of his shoulder. you feel his hard stomach under yours, abs and pecs pressing into your skin.

he can’t help but scale his fingers down your figure in your moment of rest, admiring each and every cell that forms your gorgeous shape, gentle fingers pinching the skin of your waist.

he sets his eyes on the mound of your butt, his trailing finger slowly crawling against a forbidden region; your butthole.

you’re dazed and fucked out of your mind, yearning for nothing more but to fall asleep with a click, but the heavy cock that lays within your gummy walls prevents you from doing so. while you’re distracted, you feel a singular ragged finger drag its way along the crevice of your mound, pressing against the puckered, virgin hole above your tainted cunny;

“n—no ! not there toji…” you whine, shaking your head against his shoulder. it’s hard for you to scramble away despite your tried efforts, his lodged cock keeping you still.

you know he would take you however he desired to, despite your little begs of no. nothing you say matters when you’re laying against him without a single ounce of strength remaining in your body, solely waiting for the man to get impatient and end up fucking you to sleep.

his thick finger relentlessly presses into the resisting hole, making you cry out. your nails dig into the sweat-gleaming muscle of the man, causing him to let out a light hiss.

“damn tight, little girl .” he chuckles, bucking his hips up into your cunt, readjusting your position on top. you squeal, pounding your fist against his chest with a complaining mewl. he’s so abrupt. he continues your efforts, a hand laid against your back to keep you pliant against him as he rocks his hips gently against your warmth. a thick finger prodding itself in and out of your butthole, and it’s all too much.

“noooo—“ you cry, humping your ass back into his palm. “hnnn… h—hurts back there.” he laughs at the irony of it all; he knows you’re feeling good, what can he say ? he knows how to make you feel great. he knows it’s all a ploy in able to get him to praise you, praise you for being such a good girl, for taking everything he’s giving you, and it works.

“shh, my sweet girl. takin’ m’finger so well. good, good girl .”

you let out a wanton moan, a mixture of pain and pleasure, just as the chubby tip of his cock pressed against your cervix. his finger pumps a tad faster, a tad deeper and it fills you so wrongfully well.

“y’gonna take my cock in here next time, hm? that’s what the best girls do.”

[ebodebo]

"Si, you owe me a new couch," you half-joke, trying to ease some of the palpable tension in the air, as you sit next to your boyfriend, Simon, on your couch, cleaning the gash on his side with a face cloth.

The poor guy had shown up at your door in the middle of the night with the nastiest gash to his side. It was a superficial cut, so nothing that needed immediate medical attention, but it still bled—a lot

He wouldn't say how he acquired the laceration, but you suspected it couldn't have been good. You kept your assumptions to yourself and have been tending to them for the last five minutes or so.

"I'll buy you any kind you like," he picks his head up from its place on the back of the couch. You catch his eyes boring into the side of your head as you continue cleaning the area, finally looking up to lock eyes with him. The sincerity in his eyes has you letting out a small laugh.

"You don't have to," you murmur as your eyes shift to the gauze to your side. You carefully open a fresh piece, place it on the cut, and secure it with paper tape. You gently press the sides, securing the tape to his skin. "All done. Good boy," you jokingly say, tossing the gauze's empty packaging onto the coffee table in front of you.

You feel his hand grip your chin, pulling you towards his lips. You are slightly taken aback, even making a noise of surprise, but you quickly reciprocate the kiss.

He tasted of Nicorette gum and cigarette smoke with a hint of liquor. You would scowl at him later for the cigarette smell since he had supposedly quit, but right now, you could feel by the way he gripped your face he craved a taste of you.

You raised your hand to grip his jaw, trying to bring him closer. He senses your desire, gripping your hips and swinging you over his legs so you are now straddling him, never once disconnecting his lips from yours.

While you adjust to the new position, your knee grazes his gash, making him grunt into your mouth. You pull back slightly to speak; both of your chests are heaving. "Am I hurting you?" Your brows furrow in concern as you gently bring your hand to rest in his messy hair.

He knots his hand in your hair, lips brushing against yours. "Only if you stop,” he pants, deepening the kiss.

You smile into his lips, gripping his jaw, feeling his teeth clash against your own. One of his hands lingers over your hip once again, kneading the fat of it. The other lingers from your hair to pull down your shirt on your shoulder, revealing your collarbone.

His lips hover over your clavicle, eyes flicking to take note of a new, very small ‘s’ inked into your flesh. He brings his hand up to brush his fingertips over the tattoo.

“You got this for me?” He enunciates the ‘me,’ like it was just so unable to believe you would ever want to taint your skin for him.

“You like it?” You chew on your bottom lip, giddy with anticipation. He leans back against the back of the chair, shifting his torso a little. You let out a slight moan when you feel how hard he is.

“Do you feel that?” He gruffs, gripping your waist and grinding you against his clothed hard-on. You grip his shoulders with each of your hands tightly, hissing through your teeth, “How could I not?”

He leans forward, lips hovering over the shell of your ear so you can feel his hot breath against your skin. “I fuckin’ love it.”

a/n: a little fic just bc it's been a hot sec<3 divider!