#tt!reader

[cakeofbake]

I’ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife

Offer me that deathless death

Oh, good god,

Let me give you my life

Song from there ☝️: Take Me to Church by Hozier

[deadboyfriendd]

Tag Game!

If you were in Stranger Things, what would your style be, how did you get involved in The Upside Down, and what’s your weapon of choice?

Thank you @dr-aculaaa for thinking about me! (Even though this gave me an outright identity crisis)

My Style: heavy on the skate-punk influence, since I can old dream of being as cool as my dad was in the 80s. Lots of big, worn t-shirts, comfy shorts, and a good mix of my trust checkerboard slip-ons and the original navy blue authentics. (The led-zeppelin shirt was the only cutout I liked) I’m also staying true to my big-glasses. I still have to see in the 80s and they didn’t have lasik yet.

How I got involved in the Upside Down: I’m an accidental time traveler that fell through a fray in the tightrope, right into the 80s. Originally born in 2001, I’m involved in this wether I want to be or not. I’m an elder Gen Z that has to fight inter-dimensional monsters and the horrors of a pre-automatic transmission world.

My weapon of choice: a flamethrower because… duh.

If I can’t have one of those, hand me a flail. A flail seems like fun.

[kthologue]

𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 – 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

synopsis. period piece, forbidden love

contents. ooc, angst (eventual comfort), yandere emperor!gojo, lovesick!gojo, servant!reader, obsessive behavior (5k words of gojo pining), lowkey unreliable narrator, time skips

notes. inspired by the apothecary diaries and this post. loosely based off of ancient japan (this is basically its own world). this is the prologue to the series where everything can generally be read as a standalone ! (fic under the cut)

series masterlist | next

emperor!gojo who broke a hundred year tradition to take you as his only lover. despite your role as a concubine, everyone in the imperial palace knew he was going to make you his empress.

emperor!gojo who had not meant to fall in love with you, but you have managed to somehow charm him. a man that single handedly brought his own clan to power– weak in your hands. hushed whispers around the imperial palace call you a witch, but they never reach your ears. not as long as he is alive.

emperor!gojo shamelessly showering you with love. he pays no mind that it is highly frowned upon, he will have his hands on you every time you are in the same room.

emperor!gojo who is livid when there is an attempt on your life. his usual ocean eyes turned to blue flames like a wild animal. servants and clan elders alike scurry under his gaze. the assailant is taken care of by his own hands. 

emperor!gojo who is forced to satiate the clan elders into submission by taking in another concubine from an influential clan. he insists to you that it is no more than a political formality. who are you to meddle into imperial affairs?

emperor!gojo who can’t help himself and ends up falling for another girl who his clan elders demand he must wed. she is much younger than you, beautiful and is well bred; a perfect match for the emperor. 

emperor!gojo whose frequent visits to you come to an end, forcing you to move from his chambers and back to the consorts’ pavilion.

There was a time when you had everything. A place to call home in the Inner Court, a beautiful palace with anything you could have ever dreamed of. Servants, admirers, riches; you had it all. But what was most dear to you was your lover– a man so divine, many thought he was directly blessed by the hand of God. It was too good to be true. A woman of lowly birth like you, paid as homage for the sins of her clan against the new reigning family of Japan, becoming a concubine of the Heavenly Emperor. 

You remembered it all too well.

His brilliant mind that once strategized the downfall of the previous imperial family, calculating its next move in a game of Go against you. You can still remember the shock on his face upon his first defeat. The way he would keep you from leaving to fulfill your other duties until he was satisfied, eyebrows furrowing as he struggled to keep up with you. No matter how hard he tried, you remained victorious. It drove him mad.

You remembered the stolen kisses while you made your rounds in the Inner Palace with your ladies in waiting. It took you quite a while to learn to tune out their giggles every time the Emperor dips you down to taste your lips in broad daylight. The grin that he wore after was enough to leave your legs weak.

Above all, you'll always remember how safe you felt in his strong, reassuring embrace. You’ve seen him train, and it was no wonder the Gojo clan rose to power so quickly as a result of one man. The way he wields the katana is unlike any man on the face of the earth. Those arms were your sanctuary. You can still vividly recall the attempt on your life, orchestrated by a traditionalist incensed by the Gojo clan's swift ascent to power. The emperor, outraged by the assassination plot, personally saw to the man's execution. 

However, the damage was done and it caused great strain in the Imperial Palace.

To appease the old geezers that were forced out of power, Emperor Gojo had taken in another concubine from one of the Big Three families of Japan— a beautiful Zenin girl. Her flowing, silky hair and saccharine voice enchanted everyone in the Inner Palace, captivating the Emperor, most of all. She was younger than you, with perkier breasts and soft skin that was enough to capture the attention of any man. 

You don’t blame her for taking the Emperor’s attention away. Though you would be a liar if you said it did not hurt you. Deep down, you cannot deny the agony that sears your soul, realizing that the only semblance of love you've ever tasted remains unrequited. With a heavy heart, you resign yourself to the bitter truth of your existence, knowing all too well the cruel confines of your place in this world.

You were merely a pawn, and the Emperor did not want you anymore.

That was made clear months later when you received a scroll from the Emperor’s advisor, a man you were once well acquainted with, Geto Suguru. 

“What is this?” You asked him quietly, your heart silently begging the Heavens it was not what you had suspected it to be. The black haired man in front of you does not respond, and you feel something pierce into your heart. Despite being a part of the Emperor’s court, it was rare that you received letters directly.

Your suspicions were confirmed when your shaky hands finally opened the scroll to read the familiar kanji written by your beloved.

“The Emperor decrees the termination of your role as concubine." Geto spares you the trouble of deciphering the characters neatly written in ink. “In his mercy, you are to be moved as a servant in the Outer Court. You are to serve the Imperial Physician.”

What you remember most was the silence. The Emperor’s silence after the stressful months you had to endure alone. The silence shared between you and Geto when you were forced out of the Imperial Court. All that was left was the sound of your heart breaking and the wood creaking underneath Geto’s feet as he walked away. Satoru never bothered to see you off.

Seasons change and by the next spring, you’re busying your hands with collecting herbs for the Imperial Physician, a man by the name of Yaga Masamichi. He is a kind man, pitying you enough to fill your days with laborious tasks to prevent your mind from wandering to thoughts of the unfortunate turn your life has taken. He is even generous enough to supply you with a new wardrobe of clothing full of light fabrics, a luxury you thought you would lose in the Outer Palace. Though the initial humiliation has worn off with the passing of time, you are still constantly reminded of your fall from grace.

Looks by the mix of condolences and disgust are shared when you roam the walls of the Outer Palace. You hear whispers of how the Emperor is infatuated with his newer, shinier toy. It is enough for you to swallow the bile that makes its way up your throat. 

“It is no wonder the Emperor tossed away a wildflower like her in exchange for a cherry blossom. He needed someone to rival his own greatness.” A particular comment stopped you in your tracks. Your grip tightens on the woven basket in your hand filled with medicinal herbs you had collected earlier that morning. 

“Have some pity on her.” Another eunuch whispers. Your breath falters, but you continue your walk with your head held up. You’ve heard the rumors. The beautiful Zenin Himiko has charmed the Emperor enough that there are rumors of a royal marriage to come. It doesn’t help that the Emperor has remained monogamous to her since he had banished you from his court.

A comforting hand links itself with your arm, “Ignore them. I saw Yaga shooing away a crowd of suitors that were lined up for your hand.” Ieiri Shoko scoffs, secretly sending you a wink. She has been studying medicine under Yaga for nearly a decade, eagerly accepting you as a companion upon your arrival. You feel your cheeks heat up at her flattery. You know she’s just trying to make you feel better.

Although your beauty never faded, it seems as though you are no longer sought after in the marriage market. Not that it matters, considering the new life that you’re living. You’re now a personal servant to the Imperial Physician, leaving no time to worry about suitors and such. Your days are filled with good work— tending to Yaga’s cherished garden that he has sowed for decades rather than frivolous games and attending the Emperor. It may not be glorious compared to your former life, but it was the best a woman of your status could receive. 

When you and Shoko return to Yaga’s estate, you’re surprised to see the somber look that has settled on his aging features. Shoko makes an offhand comment that he will age faster if he keeps scowling. She receives a scolding.

“Is something the matter?” You gently place down your basket full of herbs. 

Yaga sighs, calloused hands rolling up a scroll with the Imperial Seal. “It appears the Emperor’s consort has fallen ill and His Majesty commands my presence in the Imperial Palace.” 

The Royal Consort. The woman that dethroned you: Zenin Himiko.

“I understand.” You nod, maintaining your composure while two sets of eyes scrutinize you with keen observation. It was only natural the emperor wanted the best doctor in the country for his object of affection. “Shall I close up the shop while you journey into the Inner Palace?” 

Yaga shakes his head, “That won’t be necessary. I will have Shoko act as my stand-in.” He remarks with a quick glance in her direction “You, on the other hand, will accompany me.” 

Your eyes widen. 

“You cannot be serious.”

“Typically, one of my apprentices would accompany me on such journeys. However, now that I have acquired a personal attendant,” He gestures towards you with a flick of his hand, “It shall no longer be necessary.” As he speaks, he runs his hand absentmindedly through his well trimmed beard, gaging your reaction.

"I—" Your words falter and fade away. "Yes, sir," you respond, inclining your head in deference, a stark reminder of your place. While you may have concealed it, you were seething with humiliation. Returning to the Imperial Palace after a year of exile to serve the woman who took your spot was mortifying beyond measure.

“Very well. Pack enough for one week’s time. I doubt the Emperor would have called me if this was a light ailment.” He says gruffly. “We leave at dawn.” His gaze shifted to the horizon outside.

1 YEAR AGO

“Your Grace,” You purr at the feeling of his large hands scratching your head. 

The smile that rests on his face is almost ravenous. “Yes, my love?”

“I think—“ A soft sigh escapes your lips when he presses on your weak points. “I should g-go.”

His ministrations stop almost immediately. 

“Go?” His eyes peer down at you in his lap. It is now that you realize the weight of his piercing gaze. “Have I commanded you to leave yet?”

“No, but—”

“Then you have nowhere else to be.” He huffs, unintentionally puffing his cheeks out. You stifle the giggle that nearly escapes from your lips. He vaguely resembles a pufferfish– or so you think. Though you’ve never seen the round creature with your very own eyes, you’ve heard that the delicacy was something only members of the aristocratic class would feast on. 

Your mouth waters at the thought.

“What are you thinking about that could possibly be so important? Keep your eyes on me,” A strong hand squishes your cheeks together and firmly guides your face back upon him. 

You should be embarrassed; ashamed at the intimate position His Majesty has trapped you in. The way your head is tucked away in his lap as he peers down at you, nothing to shield you away from him. It was incredibly scandalous, considering that you were an unmarried woman! But it seemed like the Emperor had taken no mind towards it. You would even dare to say that he was enjoying it, with the way his lips quirk upward at the sight of you squirming. 

“Your Grace,” You repeat, determined to free yourself from his hold. His eyebrows furrow.

“Satoru,” He reminds you. You purse your lips. The position you hold in his court is simply not high enough to grant you the privilege of calling him by his given name.

“Your Grace,” You try again, the title rolling off of your tongue naturally. A man like him did not deserve any title less than.

“You’re breaking my heart, sweetheart. Indulge a man, won’t you?” He pouts down at you. As stubborn as ever, you don’t relent.

“I would be overstepping my boundaries as your consort to call you as such. That privilege is reserved for your future bride.” You take advantage of his guard let down to sit up and escape his hold. If he could have caught you, he made no effort.

“I am a simple man.” He follows you to your vanity. A giggle escapes your mouth. He is anything but. “I want my love to call me by my name.” 

You turn around to cup his cheek. He eagerly leans into your touch, sighing happily at the contact.

“I wonder how Lord Kento and Geto would react to you like this.” You tease, a smile unknowingly painting itself on your lips. 

Satoru’s face falls, features morphing into an appalled expression. You watch him close the distance between you through the mirror.

“Kento?” His voice had a dangerous lilt in it. You blink, unsure what spurred on the sudden tension in the room. “Since when were you so comfortable around him? He cannot satisfy you like I can.” He reminds you of the man’s castrated state as an eunuch. You wince.

“I have not gotten comfortable,” You’re careful to pick your words. Gojo’s possessiveness was something that was not easily tamed. “He simply provides good conversation while you are away.The palace is far too big and lonely while you’re away dealing with clan matters.” 

The only response you get is a quiet grumble. “You’re lucky that you’re pretty.” His large hand creeps its way into your hair again, undoing the hairstyle your ladies in waiting had spent a copious amount of time on earlier that morning. Gojo carefully plucks the extravagant silver hairpin from your hair, the dangling pearls clicking softly at the sudden movement.  His hands slowly make their way down to the kimono that you are wearing, hands ready to undo the obi.

Your hands softly hover his, “I fear that our roles have been reversed. Should it not be me who gets you unready, Your Grace?”

He chuckles and through the mirror you can see a smirk make his way to his lips, “I’d let you undress me any day. Just say the word, beloved.” 

You roll your eyes, but allow him to continue. It was moments like these with the Emperor that led you on to believe that there was a semblance of love between the two of you. 

How wrong you were.

PRESENT DAY

The sun has yet to meet the horizon when you arrive at the Inner Palace. The horse-drawn carriage that you and Yaga had taken is the only sound at the scene, clopping down the stone road and back to the Inner Court. You miss the serenity of the beautiful palace you once resided in, knowing that it will be bustling with life in just a few short hours.

In front of the large doors of the primary ceremonial hall where the Emperor spends most of his time, stands Lord Nanami, a counsellor to the Emperor himself. Time has only made his face sterner, but his neatly styled hair and blue and yellow dyed court attire remained the same. He waits patiently while you and Yaga make your way up the flight up stairs that lead up to the hall.

“I am glad to see you in good health, Yaga.” Nanami bows. 

The man next to you promptly waves his politeness off, thanking him for his hospitality. You stand silently while the two men engage in conversation regally.

Lord Nanami sighs, “His Majesty has been plagued by stress lately. To say I am relieved by your presence would be an understatement.” His statement is a subtle reminder that you must harden your heart upon entering the palace walls. The meticulously built walls were no longer a sanctuary for you, rather, a painful testament that you were no longer wanted. 

Yaga lets out a hearty laugh and it reveals a rare sight, Lord Nanami’s lips curving upwards by a slight. “I highly doubt the boy would be glad to see me. The appearance of the Imperial Physician is portentous.” He scratches his beard. You tilt your head in confusion at how he referred to the Emperor.

“I suppose, yet I am intrigued to find out how he will react upon seeing his object of affection flourishing anew despite the sting of frost.” Nanami audibly wonders. Even a fool could understand his eloquent comparison. The Emperor would be thrilled to see his consort in full bloom once again. You pray that the Heavens would grant you some mercy from witnessing such a scene.

“Youth,” Yaga shakes his head, chuckling to himself before regaining composure. “I mustn't keep the Emperor waiting. [Name], please gather the herbal ingredients to treat the young Consort as you seem fit. I shall confer with His Majesty and meet you in her chambers to declare a proper diagnosis.”

You bow, “Yes sir.”

While Yaga prepares to enter the doors where The Heavenly Emperor resides, your eyes couldn’t help but gaze longingly at the large bronze doors. 

“You seem well,” Nanami addresses you for the first time in over a year. Your eyes trail from the Emperor’s door to the blonde man in front of you. “Allow me to guide you to our herbal stock.” Nanami offers you his arm as you start to make your way down the stairs. 

You take it, lightly holding his arm.  “Thank you, Lord Nanami. Time away from the Inner Palace has been like a breath of fresh air,” You respond, ensuring your voice carries no malice. You hear the large palace doors from behind you open, the metal creaking loudly in the quiet dawn. 

“I must ask you to call me Kento,” He leads you down the stone steps. “We are old friends, it is strange to hear anything but.” 

You focus on your steps down the stairs, only responding once your feet meet the solid ground, “I fear that our social statuses have changed since then. It would be the cause of a scandal should anyone hear I am calling the Imperial Counselor by his given name. Your admirers would have my head on a stick.”

“Your imagination is amusing as always, [Name].” He gives you a closed eyes smile. You huff.

“I am only speaking the truth!” You insist. He chuckles.

“It is quite refreshing to see both you and Yaga again. I’m not sure how long it has been since I have been at the imperial physician.” 

You gape at his confession. “You mustn't skip your annual visits to the physician, Kento. It is in the best interest of your health!” You lightly scold him, lifting your hand to flick his forehead. It was a force of habit. “Perhaps if I have time after treating the Consort, I shall do a check up on you.”

Nanami clears his throat at your comment, the twinkle in his eyes dissipating as if your direct touch had burned him. 

“I would rather not lose my head.” He mumbles, eyes scanning the courtyard around the two of you. You knit your eyebrows, confused.

Nanami leaves you to fulfill his duties once you arrive at the Royal Kitchens to retrieve all the necessary items to treat Consort Himiko. You are glad that he did not accompany you into the kitchens to prepare Consort Himiko’s herbal soup. 

The memory of it still irks you.

“You’re late,” One of Consort Himiko’s ladies in waiting snaps just as you enter the kitchen. You look up to see a young girl, dressed in a light purple kimono. It must be Himiko’s signature, you note. It was strange to see someone outside of the Imperial family donning the color, but you suppose it was only a grand display of Himiko’s influence.

“You’re a lot more plain than I anticipated,” The other lady in waiting quirks an eyebrow, eyeing your appearance. You furrow your eyebrows, shocked by their rudeness.Their undying loyalty to their Lady was enough to fuel an unspoken hatred for you. Though you’re not sure that the two coincide, you don’t blame them.

The two are mixing a concoction that you don’t recognize to be used to treat the sick. The taller one adds some aromatics and herbs in and you see the other one unwrap a cloth to reveal a rare delicacy from the West. Cocoa, you believed they called it. 

Then it hits you– the two are not making a medicinal soup for their Lady, rather they are making an aphrodisiac! The image that conjures in your head makes you blanch. Back in the Outer Palace, Shoko had shown you the effects of the stimulant (you shiver at the memory of her shoving a treat laced with it into your mouth). It was certainly a night to remember.

“How pathetic,” You mutter underneath your breath, quickly rushing to obtain the ingredients you needed without making conversation with the two girls.

Fortunately, they pay you no further attention for the time you’re in the kitchen.

“Please excuse me,” You bow upon entering the Emperor’s chambers. Despite the Consort’s Pavilion being similar in size to a small town, you remember spending most of your time in the Emperor’s chambers rather than your own. It was probably the same case with Consort Himiko. You slowly place the tray carrying broth and medicinal herbs to treat the Consort down on the circular wooden table in the middle of the room.

Out of curiosity, your eyes can’t help but soak in the Emperor’s room. Not much has changed since you’ve left. His Majesty’s preference for minimalist decorations have stayed the same, along with his natural musk that fills your nose. You feel your face heat up at your own thoughts. How could you think of such a thing when you are about to meet his new lover?

Your gaze moves to his bed, where Consort Himiko resides– only to find nothing.

“Huh?” 

You observe his bed, silk sheets neatly made, seemingly untouched. The sounds of your sock clad feet patter on the wooden floor as you make your way to feel the bedsheets for any signs of warmth, but you are met with nothing.

“Don’t you know that entering the Emperor’s chambers can be punishable by death?” A deep voice from behind you causes you to jump in your spot. 

Your guard is immediately raised, head whipping to the sound. In hindsight, you should have never agreed to accompany Yaga on his trip. It was a foolish idea all along, you think as all of the air in your lungs dissipates upon seeing your former lover. 

Standing at the entrance of his own sleeping quarters is Gojo Satoru, his frame big enough to tower over the doorway. His arms are crossed over each other, electric blue eyes focused on nothing else but you. You press your thighs together tightly to avoid squirming anymore than you are.  He has loosened his dark blue kimono to expose some of his hardened chest, a sight any woman in the nation would die to catch a glimpse.  Even underneath all of the fabric, anyone can see his divinely sculpted physique.

“Your Grace,” You waste no time to dip your body deeply, praying that he will allow you to keep your head by sunset. “I apologize for the intrusion, I was under the pretense that Consort Himiko resided in your quarters–” Your voice loses itself in your throat when you see his shadow quickly encroaching.

“Himiko stays in her Pavilion,” He towers over you, eyes gazing down on you. “But one might suspect that you already knew that.”

Your eyes frantically meet his feet, desperate to salvage what was left of your dignity, “I assure you that I speak of the truth, Your Majesty.”

When he doesn’t respond, you slowly lift your head.

The flustered look on your face must have been amusing to him, as he makes his way closer to you, bending down to interrogate you further.

“Is that so?” He hums, enjoying every second of cornering you into his chambers. The back of your legs have met his bed, trapping you. You inhale sharply, trying to keep your breaths even, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing the effect he had on you.

He continues, “You’re awfully skittish for someone who was happily skipping around my territory in the arms of another man just earlier.” His predatory gaze seems to darken. 

“Kento?” When his name leaves your lips, the man in front of you grits his teeth. You turn your head to the side, deliberately avoiding him. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, but I don’t see how Kento and I’s relationship is any of your concern,” He does not take your actions well, his gaze searing into you.

“It certainly is when the woman in question is you,” Gojo’s voice loses its feral lilt, distress flashing across his face. There’s a newfound desperation in it that chips away at your resolve. His hand raises to your face so slowly, as if he did not want to startle you.

“This is wrong. I– I saw a couple of servants earlier making aphrodisiacs, perhaps you could have unknowingly consumed them.” You tell him, frantic eyes meeting him. It is not unusual for couples to use aphrodisiacs, you know that after under Yaga. The Emperor must have mistaken the laced dessert for his usual. 

He shakes his head, running a hand through his white hair.

“You are mistaken. This is solely your effect on me.” He promises. You could barely believe his words, stuck between feeling offended or shocked.

“How could you stand to be so cruel?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. There are no tears in your eyes this time.  “I am not a courtesan you can buy for the night,” You snap, pointing a harsh finger to his chest. 

“What do you mean?” He sounds breathless.

“Whatever do I mean?” You scoff, a dry laugh escaping your mouth. “For a year, all I have gotten is pity from the world, because you decided I was no longer entertaining. You could have at least banished me away yourself. Instead, you sent Suguru who couldn’t even look me in the eye! Don’t you know how humiliating that is?” With every word that left your lips, more venom seemed to drip. Anger was prickling you all over, taking control of the rational part of you.

Gojo seemed to be taken aback by your outburst. It was far too late to take anything back now. If you lose your head by nightfall, so be it.

You dig a deeper grave for yourself when you take advantage of his moment of weakness to flee. He’s quick to react, attempting to grip your wrist.

“Wait, [Name], beloved–” He uses that all too familiar term of endearment, but it doesn't deter you.

You accidentally bump into the circular wooden table placed in the middle of the room. What an awful place to keep it, watching in horror as the Consort’s medicine shatters on the floor. To add salt to the wound, a vase you recognize to be specially gifted to the Emperor from a foreign nation tips off too before you can catch it. The sound of porcelain shattering fills the room.

“[Name]! Are you alright?” You hear Gojo ask from behind you, but you run over the broken shards before he can catch you.

Had you bothered to pay closer attention, you would have noticed articles of your clothing and a couple of your missing belongings littered all over the room– creating a faux impression that you never really left the palace.

Days passed by after the incident, and luckily, your head was still attached to your body despite offending and nearly endangering the Emperor. Yaga’s disappointment when you had told him what happened was made evident when he sent you home early after hearing the events that transpired, insisting that he can handle the Consort on his own. Normally you would have argued, but you knew better than to inflict Yaga’s wrath.

“Now you’ve really done it,” Shoko whistles lowly, walking in from the front of Yaga’s shop. 

You hide your face in your hands, “I made an absolute fool of myself, didn’t I?”

“A fool? No. A conspirator against the Emperor? Perhaps.” She dangles a scroll with a familiar seal on it. The Gojo Clan’s familiar emblem reflects off of the sunlight spilling into the room. Your heart drops.

“Oh, they’ll have my head.” You moan, hands instinctively lifting to shield your neck.

“Though I’m quite impressed that Yaga only sent you back here. He used to have worse punishments.” She shudders before impatiently unraveling the scroll. You watch her eyes gradually widen as they read the contents of the letter. The scroll falls from her hand.

You rush to it, desperate to read your fate.

To [Last Name] [First Name],

Greetings and prosperity unto you.

By the mandate of the heavens and the authority vested in Us, We hereby extend Our solemn words to you, [Last Name] [First Name], servant of the realm, in acknowledgement of your debt to the Empire.

In response to your unmeritorious deeds, The Emperor bestows upon you His imperial pardon from capital punishment. In consideration of your obligations and the harmony of the realm, it is hereby decreed that you shall serve as an indentured servant to the Imperial Household for a period commensurate with your debt. During this time, you shall labor faithfully and diligently under the supervision of Our Heavenly Emperor, performing duties essential to the welfare of the Empire.

By fulfilling your obligations with diligence and humility, you may yet earn favor and esteem in Our sight.

The Imperial Court

A loud gasp escapes your mouth.

You feel your legs weaken, your emotions running wild. Shoko’s eyes meet yours, mirroring your frantic gaze. In that moment, you are met with the same suffocating sense of hopelessness.

extra!

gojo was kicking his feet happily as he watched suguru draft out his letter to you. suguru thought it rather cruel, while the white haired male was too busy purring happily as he fantasized about having you back into his grasp.

[senascoop]

┊ ENHYPEN NSFW LINKS!! ☁︎

pairing: enhypen hyung line x female reader . warnings: twt p.rn links, a lot of nasty stuff tbh . [note: here you go my engene girlies >.<] [ARCHIVE]

♫︎ REBLOGS + FEEDBACKS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED

heeseung couldn't control himself when you intentionally wore his favourite pink panties. and to tease you back, he rubs his cock all over the pretty fabric but never putting it in... even as you grew wetter and wetter.

heeseung spooning you while going at it because you're his princess. telling you to play with your tits while he thrusts into you.

jay couldn't even wait and so, he pushed your panties to the side and fucked your pussy even through your orgasm.

jay was a little too confident talking to the waitress and being all friendly, so you didn't hesitate to tease him in public (was that mean? yes, but you believed he deserved it and he didn't seem to mind either)

jake pulling you onto his lap after a fight. caressing your body from behind as he makes you ride him, facing away from him.

jake loves it. he loves sucking on your boobs, touching you everywhere and then while fulfilling his daily boob requirement he touches himself in between.

sunghoon hates it when people underestimate him, especially his cute gf. so to prove himself—he fingers you, while his other hand is busy tweaking and rubbing your nipple between his fingers. all the while you try your best not to move as per the bet.

sunghoon after having a bad day at work wants nothing more than a handjob from his favourite girl (you're his only girl.)

[yannawayne]

not a weapon but a person—capable of loving and being loved.

SYNOPSIS: You get kidnapped and Damian snaps. TAGS: Graphic Depictions Of Violence! Genderneutral! Blood, Hurt/Comfort, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Kidnapping, Childhood Trauma, My Mother is the Worst Woman Alive and I'm her Favorite Son, Damian is Eighteen.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ♱

A heavy thud. Ragged breaths. Then the sound of footsteps.

The same hands that had ruthlessly beat your kidnappers to a pulp—the ones that had pulverized flesh with blood splattered across his knuckles, the ones that had heard the crack of bones beneath his grip, the ones that bore the scars of countless cuts and stabs—now traced your cheek with a featherlight touch.

"Beloved."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ♱

YOUR PALMS WERE PRESSED tightly against your eyes, wrists raw and burning from the rope that had bound them just minutes ago. Sobs slipped from your lips, eyes bloodshot, and mouth parched dry.

The rotting smell of the warehouse was an assault on your senses—an acrid mix of trash, harsh chemicals, and the faint tang of gunfire that lingered in the air.

There was a hushing in your ear as you leaned against a cloaked figure—Batman. Bruce. 

His hand rubbed at your back, firm and steady, a grounding presence amid the chaos. His cape, dark and imposing, wrapped around you like a shield, blocking out the violence unfolding just in front of you.

Shadows danced erratically on the walls as Robin moved with lethal precision. Bodies fell unconscious, thudding heavily against the concrete floor. Blood splattered. Screams echoed. Each punch landed with a sickening crunch, bones breaking. Crates and debris were scattered haphazardly, wood and concrete slamming onto the floor. 

Damian couldn't see anything but red.

His vision was tunneled, focused solely on the next target, the next blow, the next scream. 

A swift roundhouse kick sent one assailant crashing into a stack of crates, the wood splintering under the impact. One punch connected with a jaw, the sickening crunch of bone breaking echoing through the air. Blood sprayed on his fist. Another one rushed toward him, brandishing a knife, but he disarmed the man with a swift twist of the wrist, jamming the blade into the attacker's palm. The man screamed, clutching his arm as red streaked his skin.

Damian's eyes flickered with a dark satisfaction as he watched the thug stumble backward, clutching at the wound.

One last man remained. One who had lunged at him from behind, grappling onto his back. Damian scowled and surged backward, driving both himself and his attacker into the wall with bone-crushing force. The man's grip loosened, a pained gasp escaping his lips as the air was knocked out of him.

"Fool," Damian spat, his voice dripping with venom. "Do you have any idea who you're dealing with?"

The thug whimpered, trying to scramble away, but Damian was relentless. He twisted sharply, dislodging the assailant and slamming an elbow into his ribs. The man crumpled against the wall, clutching his side, his eyes wide with fear and pain.

"You think you can touch those I care for and get away with it?" Damian growled. He didn't give the thug a moment to recover. He swung a powerful fist into the guy's face, the impact sending a spray of blood and teeth into the air. 

"F-Fuck you, man!" The man yanked a gun from his waistband, but before he could even line up a shot, Damian’s foot kicked out, sending the weapon flying through the air. The gun clattered against the concrete with a deafening clang. With a snarl, Damian lunged forward, grabbing the thug by the collar and slamming him into the ground.

"H-Hey! Mercy! Mercy! I'm a-already down!" the assailant wailed, his hands clawing at Robin's uniform in a desperate plea. "The Bat don’t kill! You—you ain't gonna kill me!"

Damian's expression hardened, his eyes narrowing as his voice dropped to a low, menacing growl.

"I'm not Batman," he spat, the tone amplified and darkened by the modulator. "Every breath you take is a mercy I choose to grant. By the time I'm finished, you'll be begging for death."

He raised his fist, the tension in his muscles coiling like a spring ready to snap. The thug’s eyes widened in terror, his pleas growing frantic as he braced for the blow. However, just as Damian’s fist was about to land, a hand clamped down on his shoulder, grabbing onto his hand with a vice-like grip. Before he could react, Batman—Bruce—had tackled him, pinning him firmly against his chest. 

“Robin,” Batman’s voice was firm, concern barely concealed. “That’s enough.”

Damian's struggle was fierce, his body thrashing under his father’s strength as he roared in fury.

“Let me go!” he screamed, his voice raw with anger. “I’m going to kill him for what he did to them!”

The anger engulfed Damian like a stormy ocean, dragging him beneath its violent waves. Visions of his mother’s face, his grandfather’s form, and accusing shadows surged from the depths, all condemning him. Damian’s cries erupted into a raw, guttural scream, gradually dissolving into ragged gasps as he battled the relentless tide.

Though Bruce had shaped him into a hero, a beacon of justice, and his family had offered him a fragile semblance of belonging, Damian was still his mother’s son.

The violence and anger roiling within him were like roots twisted deep within his soul. There was not a thing that could purge the primal rage and pain that had taken root before his first breath.

When he finally broke through the surface, baptized in blood and weighed down by sins that clung to him like chains, he sought you out with an urgent, almost desperate need.

A heavy thud. Ragged breaths. Then the sound of footsteps.

The same hands that had ruthlessly beat your kidnappers to a pulp—the ones that had pulverized flesh with blood splattered across his knuckles, the ones that had heard the crack of bones beneath his grip, the ones that bore the scars of countless cuts and stabs—now traced your cheek with a featherlight touch.

"Beloved."

Your hands were carefully peeled away from your eyes, and you met soft emerald eyes through a veil of tears. His hands moved to unlatch his cape, the soft fabric pooling around your form. His lips, speaking in his mother tongue, murmured a soothing litany of comfort, Arabic endearments flowing like silk. He pressed your head against his chest and you found refuge in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. 

Bruce watched the scene with a pensive look. His son's body had dwarfed you, broad shoulders and strong muscles enveloping your form like a shield. His head was tucked into your hair, his hands raking all over your tense and sweaty skin.

Damian had momentarily shed the hardened exterior he so often wore—a soldier with a heart that, despite its armor, occasionally revealed cracks. This was a side of him that often surprised people.

Because Damian Wayne was the farthest thing from soft.

He was all sharp edges. Poisonous, scalding words that could sear through the thickest armor of patience. Rough, nearly violent in his touch, like a blade pressed against skin. There was no gentleness in his movements, no softness in his gestures, only the relentless precision of a trained killer.

From the earliest moments he could walk, his life was an unending series of tests, each more grueling than the last. Each cut and bruise was a lesson. Failure was met with harsh punishment, success with silent approval. Affection and praise were as rare as mercy. 

The League’s doctrine was ingrained in him: emotions were vulnerabilities, attachments were liabilities, and loyalty was owed only to the mission and the League. His purpose in the League of Assassins was clear—to be the perfect instrument of their will, a living embodiment of their principles. 

Emotion was his enemy, a weakness to be purged.  He was taught to suppress his feelings, to turn them off like a switch. Pain was an illusion, fear a phantom to be banished. He learned to compartmentalize his thoughts, locking away his humanity in the deepest recesses of his mind. 

By the time he reached ten, he was a finely honed instrument of death.

A living weapon in a world that knew no peace.

It had taken Bruce eight grueling years to begin undoing the damage. And even then, he had barely scratched the surface.

Then there was you.

The trembling, warm-faced student Damian had introduced during his senior year—his partner for a science project, he said. 

At first, the interactions were subtle—a fleeting glance here, a hesitant smile there. But as time went on, it became impossible to ignore the way your presence began to soften the sharp edges of Damian's demeanor.

Bruce had seen you both fall for each other over the months. And he saw hope. 

You were the opposite of every lesson Damian has ever been taught.

To him, you were soft, in every sense. Soft movements, soft features, soft voice. Everything about you exuded comfort.

You made something he had always pushed down and shut away come to the surface.

You made him feel things—things he should not.

When you touched him with your soft hands, everything in him burned. The gentle brush of your fingers against his skin ignited a searing heat, a raw and unfamiliar longing that clawed violently at the walls he had worked so hard to maintain. Each touch chipped away at the concrete barriers of his training, breaking them down and leaving him exposed, aching for something he couldn’t quite name.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ♱

Mania. Drake had called it, a wild obsession of his that could consume and devour.

Damian's arms encircled you like a lifeline, holding you close as though he feared you might slip away. His lips brushed against your temple, warm and tender, while his biceps pressed firmly under your chest, anchoring you in his embrace. The air was thick with the mingled scents of sweat, blood, and the lingering residue of fear. 

And yet, amidst these odors, there was an underlying, almost imperceptible hint of Damian’s cologne—Arabian oudh. It was rich and smoky, with notes of aged wood, a faint earthy sweetness, and subtle undertones of leather and spice.

You buried your face into the crook of his neck, the fabric of his suit brushing against your cheek.

A Crush. Todd had chalked it up to puppy love, something that would eventually fade with time.

He lifted you effortlessly from the floor, his strength evident in his smooth, controlled movements. The way he adjusted his hold with such care to ensure your comfort spoke louder than any words could.

Warmth enveloped you—Damian had always run hotter, like a human furnace. On sweltering days, his clinginess (no matter how much he denied it) had been a nuisance, his heat making you feel as if your skin might melt off. But now, that same warmth was a comforting embrace, a welcome shield.

Infatuation. Grayson had suggested, thinking it was just a fleeting, intense passion. But there was something deeper in the way he looked at you, something that felt permanent and unshakeable.

“I am here. I am here, beloved," he spoke to you lowly. "It's alright now."

Love. His father called it.

In an instant, everything seemed to collapse around you. Tears welled up and streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed into his chest, each shudder of your body sending waves of anguish through him. Damian’s heart twisted painfully at the sight of you. 

He has seen suffering—he has inflicted suffering. But this was different. Your pain was a torment he was helpless to alleviate. 

Face twisted in guilt, he pulled you tighter against him, as though he could hold the world’s pain at bay if he just held you close enough.

A hand tapped at his shoulder, and he flinched, turning to see his father.

“The Batmobile is just by the docks. We can—”

“They're in shock,” Damian scowled. the fire back in his eyes. “Do you honestly believe they're in any state to be moved at this moment?”

Bruce’s gaze was firm. “Damian, we don’t have time to—”

“They need to be stabilized first,” Damian cut in sharply, his tone brooking no argument. He turned abruptly, striding towards the exit. “If you want them to survive this, we need to take care of them properly, not rush them into a car. I shall be outside.”

Without waiting for a response, Damian moved swiftly, the clatter of his boots echoing as he stepped into the cool night air with you. Once the warehouse door closed behind him, he turned his full attention back to you, his hand gently brushing your tear-streaked face. 

He moved to press his forehead gently against yours, the warmth of his skin meeting yours in a tender connection. He could offer no verbal comfort anymore; words seemed woefully inadequate. Your cries gradually subsided as you drew comfort from his presence.

Love.

He lifted his hand to the side of his face, pressing a button. As his mask retracted, his eyes met yours. Damian knew that more than anything else, you loved his eyes.

Time and again, you found yourself drawn to them, unable to tear your gaze away. They were hypnotic—an exquisite blend of emerald green, green as vibrant as the leather cover of his sketchbook, flecked with gold and streaked with brown paint.

His eyes were windows to his soul, offering the only genuine glimpse into the depths of his emotions. In them, you could see his anger burning like a stormy sea, joy dancing like sunlight on rippling water, embarrassment flitting like a shadow, and pain etched as deep as his scars.

At times, his eyes grew gentle, revealing something much softer—something that made your heart swell and your knees feel weak. A love so pure and unexpected that it could melt the coldest of hearts.

Damian Wayne was the farthest thing from soft.

But in these soft, fragile moments he shared with you, where his heart beat in sync with yours, Damian found an unexpected calm. It was in these rare interludes, away from the brutality and darkness that defined his world, that he could truly be himself.

Here, he was not a weapon but a person—capable of loving and being loved.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ♱

ao3: yenwayne

NOTE: I want to delve into the line I wrote: 'Damian is still his mother’s son.'

It's just to show his trauma, I despise Talia with all my guts.

Talia's control over Damian is a textbook example of manipulative conditioning at its most extreme. In psychological development, early experiences and parental influence are crucial in shaping one's self-concept. From his earliest days, Damian was deprived of a normal childhood. His personality, thoughts, and desires have all been sculpted by the League of Assassins from day one.

His anger, protectiveness, and sense of duty are manifestations of this—a child raised to be a killer, now struggling with the fragments of a humanity that was never fully allowed to blossom.

I'm not saying he hasn't changed!!! He has turned into so much more than the weapon they intended him to be. He is genuinely good. But the impact of such deep-seated trauma cannot be easily overlooked or resolved. It’s not something that can simply be swept under the rug or fixed overnight.

So, this was my attempt at capturing his character! I’m very open to constructive criticism since I’m new to the fandom. Please be kind and gentle with your feedback :)

[ttsblogg]

Date Night.

Drew Starkey x f!reader

a/n: drew has me like, “i beg your finest pardon.” the entire time in this fic.. so just a fair warning right now, there is smut in this fic. please read at your own discretion 😀 !MDNI! this is also my first smut fic, apologies if it’s not great.. that’s all, enjoy! - tt 🫧

“You look so good, baby.” Drew blurred out. He’d been admiring Y/n the entire night, as they were on their date tonight at their favorite place downtown L.A. Y/n looked up as she drank her wine, catching his eyes.

“Why thank you, baby.” She said giving him the sweet smile Drew loves. Drew stayed silent and kept moving his eyes from her face down to her neck to her chest. “My eyes are up here, sir.” Y/n said tilting her head at him. Drew chuckled at her comment. “Hmm.” He hummed tilting his head back at her. “I'm sorry. I’m just admiring one of my favorite pair of pillows.” He said. “Debating if I should cum on those or my other favorite pair.” Y/n nearly choked on her pasta. “Drew!” She yelled in whisper. Drew chuckled again and leaned back in his chair. “What? It's a very hard decision.” He said shrugging his shoulders. “You know what? I’ll leave that decision to you. I love when you tell me where to cum. It’s different every time.” he smirked, picking up his wine. Y/n felt her cheeks get warm. “Drew, please.” she said shaking her head. Drew loved seeing how shy she got when he talked ‘dirty’ to her, in a way he felt some pride knowing he was the only one that got to see her like this.

Their waiter approached their table before Drew could say anything else. “How are we doing guys? Can I get a check for you?” They asked. “Yeah, that would be great thank you.” Drew answered. A few moments later, the waiter returned with their bill. As Drew reached down his pocket to grab his wallet and started filling out the receipt, Y/n took this time to have a little fun too, maybe even have her own debate question herself. Feeling the shyness start to leave her body, she bit her lip thinking about what she wanted to do after they’d left the restaurant. Slowly, she moved one foot toward Drew, making contact with his leg under the table. She started moving her foot up and down his leg, teasing him. Drew looked up from the table, “Watch yourself.” He said, his voice was deep and raspy, like he was warning her. Y/n let out a chuckle, never ceasing her actions, like she wanted to taunt him, kind of like what he did to her. She knew what this would lead to, so she didn’t want to stop.

All of a sudden, Drew wrapped his hand around her ankle from under the table, making her stop. “Y/n, I’m not playing.” He said again with his deep voice. He’s getting closer. She thought to herself. Deciding to stop for the moment, she obeyed him and stopped. Shortly after the waiter gave Drew his card back, they both got up from their seat and made their way towards the exit doors. Drew kept his hand dangerously low on her back as they walked, keeping her close to him.

Like a true gentleman, when they got to Drew’s car, he opened the passenger door for Y/n and helped her get in safely before lightly shutting the door. Once he was situated in his seat, they started making their way back to Drew’s apartment. Y/n decided it was the perfect time to continue her little game. “So I did some thinking.” She spoke up. Drew placed his hand on her thigh, “mhm?” He hummed. “What about, baby?” He asked, glancing at her slightly before bringing his eyes back to the road. “About what you said earlier.” She said as they came to a red light. Drew furrowed his eyebrows at her signaling to be more specific. “About where you should cum.” She said looking at him with her signature innocent look on her face.

Drew chuckled with a smirk and began nodding his head, understanding her. “And what’s the verdict?” He asked rubbing her thigh. Y/n bit her lip before responding. “I think you should cum inside me.” She said. Drew paused for a second, then chuckled again. “You’re funny.” He said not taking her decision seriously. She leaned over bringing a hand up unbuttoning two buttons of his shirt. She started rubbing his upper exposed chest and whispered, “I’m serious, I wanna feel your warm cum in me.” Y/n can see drew clench his jaw. Oh we’re super close. She thought to herself again. “Babe, you’re playing a dangerous game right now, you know that?” He asked as pulling into the parking garage. “It’s a game I’m willing to play.” She said leaning back into her seat and unbuckled her seatbelt. She reached over to open her car door only to be stopped by Drew.

“Stay.” He said turning off the car and unbuckled his own seatbelt. He got out of the car and made his was way over to Y/n’s side and opened the door for her, making sure to grab a hold of her hand so that she got out safely. Without another word they both made their way inside the apartment building. As they walked through the lobby, Drew kept his hand on her back, guiding her towards the elevators.

Ding! The elevator doors opened, Drew let Y/n go in first, once he was inside he pressed the button to his floor. Without letting the doors close first, Drew couldn’t handle the tension anymore. He lightly pushed Y/n against the elevator wall, smashing his lips into hers. Y/n moaned at the contact. Drew felt her smile against his lips, he pulled away looking down at her lips. “This what you wanted?” He said gripping her hips, pressing himself on her letting her feel how hard he was. “Hmm? Getting me hard infront of the whole restaurant.” He reached down bundling up her long dress then pulled one of her legs up and wrapped it around him, slowly grinding himself on her. Y/n gasped at the contact, feeling herself getting wetter then before as Drew gripped her bare ass cheek in his hand while the other stayed firmly on her hip. He leaned again to kiss her again. Y/n reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him closer. Ding! They heard the elevator chimed again.

Drew pulled away from her as the elevator doors slowly started to open. Y/n quickly adjusted her dress, feeling her cheeks warm from how heated she was. She could feel herself pulse from the activities that just took place. Luckily no one was waiting for the elevator as they slowly walked out. She looked up at Drew as they made their way to his door, she couldn’t help but feel her legs get weak just by looking at him. His cheeks just as flushed as hers. They way he clenched his jaw, feeling her stare. When he reached into his pocket, Y/n looked down at the bulge in his pants, she nearly came at the sight.

As they reached his door, Y/n stepped in between him and his door, and started kissing his jaw to his neck. Her hand reached down and started palming his hard on. Drew paused his actions and groaned, placing a hand on the wall to steady himself. “So needy, baby. Couldn’t wait till we got inside?” He said reached a hand up and gripped her jaw pulling her head up to look at him. She bit her lip and shook her head. “How could I when you look this good.” She said. Drew let out a small laugh, “Oh you’re telling me.” He said giving her a peck. “Had to stop myself from taking you on the table at the restaurant.” He whispered, Y/n bit her lip, still palming him making him let a small moan. “Especially after that little stunt you pulled under that table.” He huffed. “Almost like you wanted me to lose it infront of everyone.” Y/n grinned at him. Loving this side of him. She loved antagonizing him.

“Such a bad girl, baby.” He whispered looking down as the way her hand rubbed him slowly. “Look at you, so desperate.” He placed his hand on top of hers, adding more force making him groan again. Y/n let out a chuckle. “But you love it.” She said. Drew looked back up making eye contact with her. There it is. She thought to herself. His eyes were dark and full of lust. “Oh, you’re in for it now.” He said then lifted her up on his shoulder making her giggle. “Drew!” She squealed. He unlocked the door with his keep bringing them inside his apartment. He quickly shut the door and walked over to the kitchen counter, placing Y/n on her feet against the counter.

Drew wasted no time putting his lips on hers, placing his hands on her ass bringing her close to him, making sure there was no space between them. Y/n already had her arms wrapped around his neck doing the same thing. She moaned into their kiss as he continued squeezing her. He started bundling up her dress with one hand and brought his other hand to her clothed pussy making her gasp into their kiss. “Oh fuck.” Drew groaned. “Acting all shy in public but look at you.” He pulled away from their kiss to look down at how she soaked up his fingers. “So wet n’ ready for me.” He said making her moan again. “Fuck Drew please.” She huffed. “What is it baby? Tell me what you want.” He whispered placing small pecks down her jaw to her neck. “I need you, right now.” She moaned.

Drew lifted her dress over her head and turned her around, lightly pushing her down so she leaned her stomach on the counter top. He paused at the sight, moving forward so his hips met hers. “So fucking gorgeous.” He whispered lightly slapping her ass. He loved the way she moved her hips side to side. So needy. He thought to himself. She started grinding herself on him trying to find some relief. Drew started unbuttoning his shirt, letting her continue her actions. That was until her saw her reached a hand down to touch herself through her panties. He reached under to grab her wrist to stop her. “Don’t.” He said in a firm voice. She placed her hands on the counter top and looked back at him. “M’taken too long.” She said. Drew grinned at her. “You want it?” He said antagonizing her. She nodded. “M’okay, but you’re going to take it then.” He said unbuckling belt. “Better not try to pull away when you can’t handle it anymore.” He said pulling down his pants along with his boxers, letting his hard swollen cock spring out. “You asked for it.” He said before pulling her panties to the side.

Y/n leaned back down on the counter, keeping her hands on top to steady herself. Drew rubbed the tip of his cock on her slit causing Y/n to gasp at the contact. Slowly he started inserting himself in her. Drew can feel her clench around him as she took him in completely. “Oh fuck.” Y/n moaned. Without letting her adjust to him, he started pounding into her.

All you could hear were the sounds of skin slapping against each other along with moans and groans echoing in Drew’s apartment. “So fucking wet, baby.” Drew looked down to see his cock completely glazed every time he’d pull out. “You like when I talk to you this why?” He groaned. Y/n moaned in response, unable to come up with words. All she could think about was the way his cock filled her up. The way he was starting to hit her spot. “Hm? Got you all worked up, you can’t answer me?” He asked. Still thrusting himself into her, he pulled her up so her back met his chest. She hooked her arm around his neck and turned her head to look up at him. “What’s up, baby? Can’t take it?” He asked looking at her face. It was filled with so much pleasure. They way her mouth curved into a smile, trying to respond but would be replaced with a moan. “M’fuck Drew, I’m gonna cum.” She finally let out. She moved back down to the counter, placing one arm on top for leverage and her other hand holding Drew’s wrist, feeling herself reaching her climax.

“Yeah? Cum for me, baby. C’mon.” He said pounding harder into her. Y/n felt the knot in her stomach quickly come undone as she started cuming. “F-fuck.” She moaned, gripping his wrist harder. Barely recovering from her ending point, all of a sudden drew pulled out of her and turned her around to pick her up and carried her to his sofa. “Not done with you yet.” Drew said laying her down on the couch and immediately inserting himself in her. Y/n gasped, “f-fu-too much Drew.” She groaned as he starting thrusting into her again. Drew placed one of her legs over his shoulder, giving him access to go deeper and leaned down to meet her gaze, “I told you, you were going to take it baby.” He whispered, giving her peck. “Said you wanted to play right?” He said giving her kisses down her neck to her chest. The only response he got from her were moans that echoed throughout the apartment.

He began sucking on her breast, giving them the attention they’ve been craving and brought a hand down to her pussy rubbing her clit. Y/n arched her back. “Ohh g-god, babyy.” She moaned loudly lacing her fingers in between Drew’s hair while her other hand clawed at his bicep. “M’could feel you clenching, baby. You’re so close.” He smirked sitting back up on his knees. “Fuck yes.” She managed to say holding herself up by her elbows and looked down where their bodies connected. Drew’s smirk never left his face as he slowly watched her come undone. “Oh my god. I'm c-cumming.” She moaned leaned back down with her back arched. She brought a hand down to Drew’s wrist trying to stop him from rubbing her sensitive clit. He removed her hand, placing it on her stomach. "Just like that baby, coat my fucking cock." He moaned as she came, her legs shook in the process. Drew leaned down again taking her lips in his. She let out a satified moan as they continued kissing.

Without pulling out of her, he grabbed a hold of her arms bringing her up with him. She furrowed her eyebrows at him making Drew smirk. "Ride me." he said leaning himself on the couch setting her on top of him. Y/n huffed with faint smile. "I can't." she said honestly. Drew leaned up capturing her lips again. "Thought you wanted to play, baby." he said before leaning back against the couch. "I'll help you if you can't anymore, c'mon." he said moving his hips up against hers. He's going to be the death if me. Y/n thought to herself. She leaned into Drew placing her hands on chest and shoulders for leverage as she started rocking her hips against his.

Drew let out a low moan as she continued grinding on him. He reached up and cupped one of her breast, leaning into her, he took the other breast in his mouth, sucking on her nipple. Y/n moaned placing her hands on his knees, arching her back slightly, giving Drew more access. She started moving in a up and down motion now, feeling the same knot again for the third time. "F-fuck, baby." She moaned placing a hand on her pussy as it started to feel warm from how much it was being penetrated. "You got it, baby. Doing so good." He said encouraged her holding her up from her hips, trying to relieve some of the tension on her thighs. "Taking me in so good." He said feeling the way she started clenching around him again. Drew could feel himself start to reach his ending point too. "Fuckk, come here." He said pulling her into his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck, placing her head on his shoulder. Drew wrapped an arm around her waist while the other held her up by her hip and started thrusting upwards in fast motion. "Oh my-yes, baby. Right there." Y/n moaned into his ear, unwrapping her arms from his neck and squeezed his shoulders. "Yeah? You like that, baby?" he groaned. " Yes-oh my-." She couldn’t finish her sentence. Drew already knew what she was going to say as she started clenching him harder. "Cum, baby. C'mon you got it." he said looking up at her face. He loved watching the way she came undone. He loved the way she'd arch her back with her mouth wide open, staying silent for a moment before moaning loudly as she came. Y/n gasped as she felt herself cum all over his cock again for the third time. She knew Drew was close to cumming too so with small strength she had left she started rocking her hips on him again, faster than earlier. Drew moaned gripping her hips tighter. "Ahh fuck." he groaned. "Cum in me, baby." Y/n moaned placing a hand on his jaw. Drew locked eyes with her. "F-fuck. You mean it?" he asked. Y/n smirked, "Yes, Drew. I want to feel your cum, please." She said.

Drew gripped her hips again making her grind on him even faster. It didn’t take long for him to cum in her. "Oh fuck, baby." he moaned with his eyes closed shut. He held her hips down, stopping her from moving as he shot up in her. Y/n sighed with a smile loving the feeling of his warm cum inside her.

Drew finally opened his eyes after a couple seconds, seeing the satisfied smile on Y/n's face. "That what you wanted?" He asked leaning up to kiss her. Y/n moaned against his lips. "Yes." She answered. Drew smirked. "Such a dirty girl, wanting me to cum inside you." he said leaning back down on the couch admiring the way she looked on top of him. Y/n gave him a tired smile as they locked eyes for a moment. "So fucking pretty." he added rubbing his hands on her sore thighs.

Y/n looked down noticing her panties were still on. She chuckled. “You could’ve at least taken off my underwear you know.” She said. “There was no time. Gettin’ me all worked up, faster this way.” He said. “Plus looks hotter.” He smirked. Y/n chuckled at his response. “Such a freak, babe.” She said leaning her head on his chest. “Says the one that wanted me to cum inside her.” He said. Y/n lightly smacked his chest. “Take me upstairs.” She chuckled. Drew gladly wrapped her legs around his waist and started making his way up the stairs to his room. “Round 4 in the shower?” He asked. “Alright relax, Joseph.” She said making Drew laugh.

“Well… maybe.” She said.

[diaryofavillainwhore]

— Ink Me Where It Hurts ♠️

You wanted something small, delicate and hidden. But nothing will be delicate when you met Dabi. He was all tattoos, piercings and fucked up attitude that drew people in.

“Under the breast,” you murmured, pulling the hem of your shirt up to show him the space. “Right here.”

Dabi was silent for a full beat, eyes locked on that stretch of skin. Then he looked up slowly and grinned. “Yeah,” he said. “I can do that.”

He didn’t say much while prepping. Just gloved up, pulled the stencil, told you to lie back. The chair creaked under you, the leather felt cold against your back. Your shirt was pushed up, your bra tucked out of the way. Your ribs rose and fell with every breath.

“You nervous?” he asked low, needle humming like a threat in his hand.

“A little.”

His hand settled just below your breast. Warm even through the glove. “It’s gonna hurt.”

You nodded. He didn’t start right away. Just… stared at the stretch of your stomach. The curve of your ribs. The tender skin where the ink would go.

“Stay real still for me, pretty.” The first sting made you flinch and his hand pressed firmer. “Don’t move.”

He worked slow and deliberately. Needle biting into you while his fingers curled around your ribs, steadying you.

“Doing good,” he muttered, eyes never leaving the design. “Breathing like that’s makin’ your tits bounce, though. You trying to distract me?”

“No.” You flushed.

“Mm.” His hand slid higher, thumb brushing the underside of your breast like it was part of the process. “Pretty little thing like you walkin’ in here askin’ for ink in a spot like this. Either you’re real brave or real stupid.”

You whimpered as the needle dragged deep. He leaned in, close enough to taste your skin. His hot breath ghosting over the tinted skin.

“Bet you like the pain,” he murmured. “Bet your thighs are stickin’ to the chair already.”

You were soaked and you knew he could smell it. That sweet musky scent of desire. He set the gun down mid-line, just to look at you. His turquoise eyes turned dark and his lips curled into something sinister.

“You want me to finish this or fuck you senseless first?” he asked. “’Cause I’ll do either. But I promise you, sweetheart—” He grabbed your jaw, leaned over you, with his voice like smoke and sin. “Once I’m done marking you, I’m gonna fuck you right here. Just like this. Shirt up, mouth open, ink still bleeding.”

You gasped as his pierced tongue dragged hot and wet over your nipple.

“And every time you look at it you’re gonna remember who made you cry.”

[ssunfish]

my offering to all Yoo Sangah enjoyers

[kazucee]

POV: what if I told you that I've fallen? | HSR men and how they'd fall.

.ᐟ What if I told you that I've fallen (nevermind) What if I told you that I've fallen (oh nevermind) What if I told you that I've fallen (oh nevermind)

.ᐟWhat if I told you that I've fallen (oh nevermind I said nevermind) I shouldn't tell you that I've fallen...

[inspired by a post by @/outromoony]

Phainon fell holding onto you desperately, shielding you with his body.

Mydei fell in every single timeline, all ending tragically but one.

Anaxa fell clutching his chest where his heart should've been.

Aventurine fell without the guarantee of a winning hand.

Ratio calculated which way to fall and how to fall only to end up looking like a fool.

Dan Heng fell silently, memorizing every bit of the feeling.

Luo Cha fell with his eyes close in silent prayer and a soft smile on his face.

Jing Yuan fell, asleep.

Blade didn't fall, he crashed.

Jiao Qiu made you believe that he fell when he didn't, only to fall unexpectedly over the simplest of things.

Moze had been falling from the very start.

Sunday fell believing that no one would catch him.

Gepard denied ever falling but proceeded to act very obvious about it.

Sampo didn't fall, he pushed you instead.

Argenti fell wholeheartedly and as gracefully as he could before landing on his face.

Gallagher stared with a deadpan, snorted, then fell hard.

Boothill fell head first, laughing, with guns blazing.

Luka tripped and didn't even notice it.

Mr. Reca fell saying 'nononononono you've got to be kidding me'

Welt had a feeling he fell but didn't acknowledge it till he knew for sure.

[ywuji]

perv!yuuji who loves putting things inside you, it doesn’t even have to be him! (f!reader)

sometimes when you’re lying on the sofa, he’ll gently paw at you with a pout on his face. his eyes and flushed cheeks letting you know he’s just so desperate to shove something in your precious pussy. :(

and when you give him the okay but tell him you’re not in the mood for full-blown sex, he doesn’t mind one bit. in fact, he waves off your apologetic tone with a gentle smile on his face, looking around and getting an idea when he sees one of your makeup brushes lying there.

he talks you into easing up, cooing and calling you names like his ‘little cutie’ and his ‘sweetheart’, while he slowly plays with your clit, his thick fingers sliding up n down through your cunt until you’re slick—just how he loves it.

he watches you softly squirm and whine for him, telling him to put his fingers in already, but he doesn’t listen. his hazy stare swaps between your pretty face and your pretty cunt. he thinks you’re so pretty, he just wants to keep you like this forever. :(

when you let out a louder, whiny ‘yuuji!’, he snaps out of his trance, finally registering your teary, desperate eyes and swollen lips. the boy giggles at your face, eyes fluttering shut as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your cunnie, mumbling soft ‘sorry, baby’s before he pokes his tongue out at your little clit, turning into him hungrily licking up your sweet wetness and sucking your sensitive nub.

he peeks an eye open to see your face scrunched in pleasure, eyes squeezed shut and mouth slightly agape. he grins coyly and starts teasing your hole with his finger, slipping just the tip in and out. he slips his hand away to pick up the makeup brush, sliding the tip through your folds before ever so slowly easing the thick handle into you, trying hard to not giggle while he watches up at you and listens to your whines become more stuttered as he gently pumps the brush in n out deeper inside, all while praising his pretty little love.

he pulls away and sits up just before you cum, gently pushing your legs up to your chest and smiling triumphantly as he runs his thumb over your clit and down to the fluffy head of the brush sticking out of you. he knows the brush is probably ruined now, but it’s okay, he’ll buy you a new one (and however many more it’ll take for you to let him do that over again).

[cakeofbake]

Chapter 1: Thrash and Thunder

chapter one of Torment and Tribulation is out!! Find it here!!

[femd-archive]

a/n: a lil' something, cause i've been away for sooo long...

cw: timeskip!kuroo | mommy kink | inspired on this video (nsfw link)

tetsu''s tie hangs messy on his neck as he's hopelessly moaning for the two fingers of yours that are thrusting on him like you want to get deeper. his hips move at the same time, trying to ride your fingers as his pretty cock bounces on top of his tummy.

after a long day of work, he hasn't had the chance to make a change of clothes before he gets dragged by you on the couch and ended up making out with him on top of you; your praises made him dizzy and in no time, he's naked from the bottom and taking your fingers with no complain.

"worked so hard today, tetsu. wanna ride my fingers until you cum, baby?" you coo at him as he reaches to kiss your lips once again, moaning agianst your mouth.

"y-yes mommy...please" he whines, looking at you with those pretty puppy eyes. cutie.

he shifts around on your lap until he's finally facing you. he pecks your lips shortly before hugging from from your shoulders, hiding his face on your neck and starts riding your fingers like they were your strap. the room soon enough fills with his moans as he thrusts his hips again and again, rolling his eyes back as feels you reach his prostate.

his head falls back and he supports his weight on your thighs as his hips keeps moving, dick twitching before it finally releases ropes and ropes of cum that makes your shirt dirty, but you're not complaining as you see tetsu's cute face as he cums.

he finally comes down form his orgasm, and when he's done, he flashes you with a tired grin, making your heart melt at how cute he looks. you drag him back in your arms, showering his neck and face with kisses, making him giggle.

"shower?" you simply ask.

"mmh, yeah" he simply answers.

and yet, neither of you moves from that cuddle position for the next 30 minutes.

[rinnstars]

4 walls!

in which itoshi rin builds a wall between him and the world and youre the only one with the key

itoshi rin x reader: fluff, drabble + not proofread + likes and reblogs are appreciated

to the world, itoshi rin is somehow cold, emotionless, unaffected - the way his face is fixed in the dead-panned face as though carved into it by a sculpture, the way he doesnt bother responding or dignifying jabs or comments as he walks past the desks, the way his eyes linger on only his goals over the people that surrounds him. to his first football club, he is nothing short of a disappointment, always compared to his genius of a brotehr, nothing short of dull, always hiding his report cards whenever exam season arrives, nothing short of cold, his mouth barely spoke a word during his stay there. to his classmates, he is just an average joe - just another classmate not focused in class, too busy focusing on his dream world wrapped in the football magazines he has stacked underneath his table, just another guy, albeit way more quiet and responsive than most students, just another mediocre and average student, with grades that just passed the mark to move on to the next and with abysmal club attendance.

yet, to him, he knows he is the opposite of all the things they say - he knows he’s rather soft hearted, a cry-baby at the slightest tone change, he’s rather insecure, each comparison to his brother only digs the knife slotted against his heart deeper into the already gory mess of an organ it has become over the years, he’s rather passionate, driving him to continue persevering against all odds, against his own belief and reality, against his own blood. but he rather it stays that way - maybe its better to not let them see the real him, to not let them too be disappointed at the real reflection that stares back at him in the dirty mirror, to not hurt himself more by giving them the full him.

and so he builds a wall. he builds a wall made of bricks and stones, block by block until he is trapped in his own making, until he no longer can get hurt or even see the outside world outside of the house he has essentially trapped himself in, until he wont get hurt anymore - not by his club members, not by his classmates, not by his brother. and he tries to convince himself, he likes it better this way - without others, there wont be another sae - he wont have to witness his own heart ripped out and thrown on the grassy patch of field another time, he wont have to go through nights of sobbing uncontrollably that leaves his pillow gross and wet by the time morning rolls around, he wont have to feel as though he lost a loved one to death as he occasionally open his drawer that features a photobook of him and his brother still grinning without a care in the world without knowing what would have happened next with dried tears stains that dirty those photographs.

and yet, its with you, rin thinks his walls are entirely down. to him, youre the key to the complicated lock in his heart that he without a doubt passes to you. you’ve always been beside him, even when his eyes were fixated on sae that has always been in front of him - beside him in class where you two slacked at the back of class playing your phone and him reading soccer magazine underneath the table as you two occasionally bicker whilst laughing, beside him on his bed right on top of the messy blankets he knows you dont mind with his arms around you like its second nature to him, beside him on that bus whether to and fro school or even to his training facility that takes practically hours to get to as you drool on his uniform that he doesn’t have the heart to let you know even after all these years.

you’re the bright star and sun that melts away his icy cold castles and mountains of walls as though they were nothing, rin thinks. the way you beam at him whenever you see him right at the bus stop, waving your hands excitedly as your footsteps springs towards him and he feels like he’s in those cliche romance mangas you talk about, almost seeing those cherry blossom trees and hearing that love song that repeats in his head whenever youre oh so close to him. the way you listen to him, nodding along even though half of what he’s saying are nonsense word jumbles practically sews and patches his broken heart back, warming his once ice cold atmosphere. the way you do things — passing him those sugary sweet candies that tastes just like you, letting him copy off your homework while you both laugh quietly at the back of class makes him wish this could last forever, the way your hands so gently combs through his emerald hair makes him melt into a lovesick puddle right in your hands as he looks at your eyes that he swears the whole galaxy is inside it.

and maybe youre like those hero’s and magicians he’s watched in those cartoons when he was a little kid, you must be. so enchanting: how you manage to coax him out of his room time and time again to go to wherever you want, hell rin thinks he would even go to the very end of the world if you simply asked. youre like the fire element to his ice element in those stupid games, the sun and the moon from those posts he reads about your favourite love mangas to catch up to you, the golden retriever and the black cat trope he hears you rave about, the “lalala” and “okokok” tiktok trend and everything under the sun. if youre not a secret extraterrestrial creature that he bets you are, the equivalent to his new found destroyer ego to make a team together to destroy the earth or something like that he jokes, maybe just maybe you two were destined by fate.

in another life, you would be the witch to find an abandoned familiar he thinks - warming and melting his icy exterior with both your warmth you exude and too the hot soup you always cook for him whenever he’s running a cold. in another life, you would have been the hero to have helped him out of whatever villainous organisation he finds himself trapped in in his rage and fear with your warmth and that bright cheshire grin of yours anytime. in another life, you would have been the bright and well-liked royal of the castle who finds him, a lonesome and attempting knight and make him yours he thinks. he’s sure of it — where yours and his constellations are always beside each other, where your palm fits perfectly with his like two puzzle pieces merged together, where yours and his heart and ribs and guts are shared together.

so for now, rin will sit here right beside you, enjoying the warmth you exude as he places his head right on your shoulder, smiling at your yelp at surprise and attempts to push him off back to his side of the bed: youre the only one he would let in to see the raw him, and he hopes he’s the same to you too, the one you can truly always shine the brightest with.

[hanfourz]

― scream | h.ts 𓆩⚝𓆪

first installment of the 'tis the season drabble series !

pairing・ghostface!taesan x fem!reader

genre・smut, mostly pwp (fluff towards the end), established relationship

warnings・MDNI, mask kink, unprotected sex (Do Not.), dom!taesan, profanity, fingering, big dick!taesan

word count・2.3k (!!!!!)

note・uh we don't talk abt how long this took me or the fact that this is a halloween drabble in december... it's fine (the end's kinda trash sry lmao) - 🪼

[ networks : @onedoornet ]

series m.list | main m.list

halloween was your favorite time of the year. all the spooky decor, scary movies, and candy made your eyes glow with excitement. and this year you’d get to spend it with your boyfriend. last year, you two were supposed to celebrate together but you came down with something so he’d come up with a brilliant plan of staying in and watching scary movies to your heart’s content. and as fun as that was, this year you were determined to make halloween count. 

“dongminie, hurry or we’re gonna be late!” you heard a deep sigh before he muttered out ‘okayokay’. you two had a party to get to in exactly 2 hours. a party you may or may not have convinced forced your lovely boyfriend to go to. truthfully he wasn’t all that upset about going to this party, one of his friends was hosting it so he knew he was going to have to go anyway. it was the damned costume you’d practically begged him to wear. you two were supposed to be characters from one of your favorite thrillers, a movie that taesan personally didn’t care for. you’d made him watch every single scream movie last year and told him you wanted him to be ghostface this year. he didn’t really think you were serious until he saw the mask sitting on the bed and your overly excited smile as you pulled him into your room to show it to him. he’d be lying if he said your excitement wasn’t kinda adorable and that’s what ultimately won him over. (that and the fact that he was completely head over heels for you) 

“babe!! come here, i need help!” you whipped around at the sound of taesan’s voice coming from your bedroom. when you got up and made your way over, you opened the door to the sight of him standing at the foot of your bed. he’d had the mask on most of the way but was seemingly struggling to get it to fit comfortably. you giggled under your breath and when he’d heard you, his head perked up in your direction. you stepped towards him and helped him adjust the mask over his head, stepping back once you’d both got it fully on. now with the mask settled over his head, you got to see his full costume. he opted out of the long dress in favor of black jeans and a black t-shirt, fake knife in hand. in truth, he just looked like himself with a mask on. so you’re not sure why you were getting so hot all of the sudden. you stood there and staring in stunned silence. when he tilted his head at your silence, you swore you felt your gut tense up. unbeknownst to you, taesan could absolutely tell you were turned on right now, you really weren’t that hard to read. and suddenly things clicked in his brain, the way you were so eager to get him in this costume, the glazed over look in your eyes when you were talking about seeing him in it. 

“what’s wrong, baby? how does it look?” he asked, feigning innocence but slowly stepping closer to you. your eyes widened ever so slightly, if he wasn’t intensely staring at you through the mask he wouldn’t have even noticed. but he did and it caused the tiniest of smirks to cross his face. 

“looks good, ‘minie… we should- uh we should probably get going.” you tried to answer normally but his presence, the way he loomed over you, was intoxicating. your eyes couldn’t stay focused on where to look, darting around his frame. and when he pressed closer to you, you felt your knees grow weak a little. you don’t know what was coming over you but taesan was enjoying every second of it. his large hands found your waist and yours came to press on his chest. “we’re gonna be late-” you were cut off by him sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling you down into his lap in the process. your mouth hung open in shock but taesan wasn’t even paying attention to you. instead he had turned his upper half to snatch up his phone and was seemingly texting someone. 

your brows furrowed as you stared in confusion. “what’re you doing?” you asked tilting your head to see he was texting jaehyun. 

“telling him we’re not coming.” was all he said before he turned again to place his phone on the dresser.

his hands were on you in seconds. your mouth opened to protest but you were cut off again by his hands trailing up your shirt. you let out a shaky exhale, watching as he stared intently at the skin he was exposing the more his hands went up. once your shirt was pushed up to expose your chest, you reached to yank it off. taesan chuckled at your eagerness, hands groping over your bra causing you to keen into his touch. if the mask wasn’t getting you so worked up, you would’ve taken it off so you could kiss him and he would’ve taken it off so he could wrap his lips around your tits. but this would have to do for now. 

“dongmin, please.” you whined, not even fully sure what you were pleading for. he hums, not giving you what you want and continues to trail his hands over your torso. 

he stops at the waistband of the skirt you’re wearing, teasing at the skin there before sliding them back up to your chest. his pace is agonizingly slow as he unclasps your bra, your breath catching in your throat as the cold air causes your nipples to perk up. taesan groans lowly at the sight, pinching and rolling the sensitive buds between his fingers. you whimper, grinding yourself over his thigh that’s nestled between your legs. taesan watches you for a while mesmerized by the desperation in your movements. but then he’s quickly moving you, laying you down on the mattress whilst pushing your legs apart. he slots a leg in between your thighs, hovering above you as you whine impatiently. he doesn’t say a word as he shimmies your skirt off your hips, leaving you in just your lacy panties. the constant switching from feverish impatience to slow deliberation is making your head spin as he takes the time to admire your figure below him. his hands caress your thighs, pulling one up at the knee and pressing two fingers to the wet spot forming on your panties. 

you sigh at the feeling, hands reaching towards the band of your panties before he pushes them away. you let out an indignant whine but keep your hands away for the time being, allowing him to do as he so pleases. he starts to circle your clit with his fingers, occasionally pressing harder onto the bud. he watches as you arch into his ministrations and he feels it as you grow even more wet. he pulls your panties to the side, continuing to play with your clit. he watches as you clench around nothing, breathing ragged underneath his mask. 

“dongminie, please. want more.” you moan out, hands reaching for the one pressed to your cunt. he only pushes your hands away again, a frustrated whine leaving your lips. but then he actually takes your panties off, sliding them down your legs and throwing them to wherever your skirt went. and though you’re completely bare while he’s completely clothed, you don’t feel shy. no, if anything it turns you on even more. 

without warning, he plunges two fingers into your wetness causing a gasp to fall from your lips. he watches as they disappear into your hole before he brings them out and pushes them in again, setting a fast pace. your legs threaten to close but he presses a hand to your other thigh, forcing them open as he fucks you with his fingers. something about the dominance radiating from him in this moment makes you feel so much closer to the edge than normal. you’re whimpering and moaning loudly as his thumb starts to rub over your clit. he doesn’t say a word but you can hear how heavy his breathing has gotten and it drives you crazy. 

“‘min, i’m close. oh my god, please.” your back arches off the bed as you feel your orgasm fast approaching. he decides to press another finger into you, you moaning loudly at the feeling. he drinks in the sight of you falling apart for him, pussy clenching around his fingers and moans tumbling from your lips. when you come, your entire body tenses and you’re left scrambling for something to hold on to. he slows his fingers, letting you ride out your orgasm before pulling them out. 

as he turns his hand, he watches his fingers glisten with your essence and can’t resist pushing the mask up to lick them clean. the sight has your jaw dropping and pussy clenching once again. you trail your eyes down his form to see his very visible bulge. before you can even think of doing anything, he places both hands on opposite sides of your head, looming over you again. you take the opportunity to trail your hands over his clothed chest, feeling his breath shudder before he’s pulling away to be kneeling over you. he very quickly undoes the buckle on his pants, pulling them down enough so that he can push his boxers down. his hard length stands tall against his stomach, precum leaking from the tip. you watch as he pumps his length a few times, your breathing labored as your hand starts to trail down to your aching pussy. but taesan catches the movement, grabbing your hands and pinning them above your head. you whine and try to squirm free but to no avail. he holds you there until you stop trying to fight against him, tilting his head at you when you huff in annoyance. and even though he hasn’t said anything, you know that means you’d better keep your hands there if you wanted to cum again tonight. 

he pulls away when he’s sure you’re done and reaches for your legs, pulling you towards him whilst simultaneously spreading you open. he rubs his cock over your pussy, tip bumping your clit and causing little whines to leave you. once he feels he’s teased you enough he lines himself up with your entrance, pushing in slowly. no matter how many times you two have had sex, his cock always stretched you out so deliciously. you could feel it as he pushed every inch into your fluttering walls. you heard him sigh breathily when he finally bottomed out. just like he did with his fingers, he pulled out slowly before fully plunging back inside you, watching the way your pussy swallowed him. he felt so deep as he fucked into you, his hands snaking their way up to your chest. his fingers toyed with your tits while his hips snapped into yours. your hands were fisted tight in the sheets, moans of his name and incoherent blabbering falling from your lips. you chanted his name like a mantra as you felt his cock hit that spot inside you that had you seeing stars. 

he repositioned so his hands were placed on opposite sides of your head again, you bringing your legs to wrap around his hips. at this angle, you could feel him even deeper and you cried out his name. your hands found purchase on his shoulders as he rocked into you. now that he was closer, you could hear the soft pants and groans he was letting out behind the mask. you could feel that familiar tightening in your stomach, thighs clenching around him. you were letting out pleas and ‘yes’s’ and ‘feels so good, don’t stop’ and taesan knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. you could tell too, his thrusts getting sloppy and his head dipping into your neck. 

“gonna cum, dongminie, fuck ‘so good.” you moaned directly into his ear and that was his undoing. he groaned as your pussy clenched around him, both your orgasms washing over you. 

he thrusted into you a few more times before practically collapsing on top of you. you let out a laugh of disbelief, pulling his head up and immediately removing his mask. his hair was sticking to his sweaty forehead, lips swollen from biting down on them, and a blissed out look in his eyes. you had a dopey smile on your face as you pushed his hair back from his forehead. he sighed before sitting up, pulling his softening cock out of you and readjusting his clothes. you whined at the loss of contact and he chuckled. 

“be back, babe, hold on.” he murmured as he got up, grabbing a damp towel and a water bottle. he came back, wiping you clean (chuckling once again when you whined at the feeling) before opening the water bottle and giving it to you. once you were done with it, you gave it back to him and gave him a pointed look. he sighed and drank some water before settling it back on your nightstand. when he came back to lay with you, you immediately pulled him down into a heated kiss. 

“can’t believe you deprived me of your lips this entire time.” you pouted as you pressed your lips to his again, him smiling into the kiss. he hummed as he pulled you over so that you were on top of him, bare chest pressed against him. he kept you there as your lips moved in tandem, your tongue swiping across his bottom lip. it felt like hours before you two pulled away from one another. 

“you’re amazing, baby.” he said softly, his hand running through your hair. you just smiled at him, leaning to kiss his nose before you got up to get clothes to put on. 

“didn’t know you had a thing for masks though.” and even though your back was turned as you bent over, you could hear the teasing smirk in his voice. 

[oozedninjas]

Any Leo fucking you when he's needy honestly

Warnings: 18+ / MDNI / NSFW / Smutish / Leo is late 20's to early 30's / general verses

Needy!Leo loves it when you breathe into his mouth, panting as he thrusts into you at just the right pace. Fuck, he missed you so much.

Needy!Leo loves it when you close your legs around his head when he goes down on you—losing his mind when you tug the banana, rubbing yourself to his face desperate to reach your peak. So fucking delicious, he drinks it all down.

Needy!Leo is crazy about your moans, he adores hearing how good he makes you feel.

Needy!Leo loves holding you so close to his plastron you can barely breathe, but god, your clit feels amazing grinding against his lower belly, that you almost don't care.

Needy!Leo stays inside after he's fucked his cum deep in your real good, slowly catching his breath as he holds you close. You're good for him, so soft and warm—what do you mean you can't breathe? This is no time for air, it's time for cuddles.

[invincibledc]

TT!robin: Do you think in another universe we’re affectionate with each other?

Super!Reader: Of course!

(Super!reader hugs Robin gently as Robin hugs them back)

IN TTG UNIVERSE

TTG!Robin: IM SORRY! IM SORRY!

(Robin does a cartwheel to avoid being hit with heat vision as super!reader chases them with an angry expression)

Super!reader: YOU MESSED WITH MY SUIT!

TTG!Robin: I SAID I WAS SORRY!

Super!reader: (blasts another laser at Robin) NOT SORRY ENOUGH.