#Screen-Free Entertainment
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designpulsstore · 15 days ago
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Fun Adventure Kids' Puzzle - 30-Piece with Dora and Monkey
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Introduce your child to a world of fun and creativity with this vibrant Kids' Puzzle! Specially designed for little hands, this 30-piece puzzle features rounded corners and sturdy chipboard construction, ensuring safe and enjoyable playtime. Children will love piecing together the colorful image of adventurous characters in a beautiful natural setting, fostering their problem-solving skills and concentration. Ideal for family game nights, birthday parties, or quiet afternoons, this puzzle is perfect for kids aged 3 and up. It makes a thoughtful gift for holidays like birthdays or special occasions, contributing to hours of screen-free entertainment. The box includes a handy reference picture, making assembly a breeze and allowing young puzzlers to engage with the colorful world in front of them. Let your child's imagination soar as they explore this enchanting scene!
Visit our shop for more design
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thehunteramman · 2 months ago
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Why the Yoto Player is Every Parent’s Dream for Screen-Free Entertainment and Learning
Yoto Player, creative play for kids, bedtime storyteller, nightlight for kids, alarm clock for children, child-friendly audio content, no screens no ads.
In a world dominated by screens, finding safe and engaging ways to entertain and educate children has become a priority for many parents. Enter the Yoto Player, a remarkable kids’ Bluetooth speaker that’s redefining how children aged 3-12 experience audio content. Whether you’re a parent striving for screen-free entertainment or looking for a multifunctional learning tool, the Yoto Player ticks…
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kids-worldfun · 5 months ago
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Tips for Getting Your Kids Into Board Games
Board games are enjoyable, exciting, and perfect for keeping kids occupied. They also contribute immensely to kids’ development, for instance, in their thinking, language development, and turn-taking. Thus, board games are a form of innovative learning that does more than just occupy and entertain kids. However, kids can only benefit from playing board games if they get some sort of enjoyment out…
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undertheredhood · 2 days ago
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AU where ra’s al-ghul who is so tired of dealing with jason’s bs (bc lbr, jason would’ve been the biggest menace towards him during his time at the league and also after), decides to do the worst thing he could possibly do to jason and leaks the fact that jason todd, bruce’s wayne’s adopted son who’s been dead for almost a decade is not as dead as everyone has been made to believe to the public.
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soon-palestine · 11 months ago
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autistichalsin · 1 month ago
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Periodic rent-lowering-gunshots:
Fiction is not reality.
You can enjoy things in fiction that would be awful in the real world. Like playing a murderhobo in a game! In the real world, being or supporting a murderer-thief would be pretty damn awful, while in the game it's just good fun. Same with anything else you choose to do with the pixels on the screen, like kinks that don't affect anyone real, so they're okay in fiction, but would be pretty damn bad in real life.
No one else is responsible for your online experience. They are required not to harass you, but they are not and never will be obligated to not post about ships, kinks, or tropes you dislike just to avoid you seeing them. It's up to you to blacklist words or phrases, block tags, or even block users as needed to avoid seeing content that upsets you.
No one can force you to read anything against your consent. Any content you don't like seeing can be instantly avoided by closing out of the offending post/fic.
You are not owed an online experience free of discomfort.
Nothing that happens in your imagination can ever make you a bad person. Words you write or read about fictional characters will never make you a bad person.
The claim that media consumption influences real-life behavior is intellectually dishonest and serves only to excuse the behavior of real offenders.
Fiction is a safe way to explore horrifying or confusing concepts. Therapists agree that fiction, even (or especially) about taboo topics is a good coping mechanism, especially, but not exclusively, for trauma survivors. Fiction is to adults what play therapy is to children. This doesn't stop being true if the work in question is of a sexual nature.
Sex isn't an inherently worse or better motivation than anything else. A work written to create feelings of arousal isn't dirty, shameful, or in any way less pure than works written to entertain, provoke moral questions, or for other reasons. And worth noting is that multiple purposes can exist in the same story, especially fanfiction.
You aren't entitled to an explanation for why someone reads, writes, or otherwise enjoys certain works, kinks, tropes, ships, etc.
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kayhanaudio2 · 5 months ago
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With its 9-inch touchscreen display, the Kayhan Audio Car Stereo with SatNav for Chevrolet Silverado 2012 is a modern useful interior expansion. It has Bluetooth, USB, and Wi-Fi connectivity for smooth media streaming, hands-free calling, and app access. It also has GPS navigation with real-time traffic updates. With cutting-edge technology and convenience, the high-resolution screen and user-friendly interface enhance your driving experience. Website:
https://kayhanaudio.com.au/product/car-stereo-with-satnav-for-chevrolet-silverado-2012-v5-9-inch/
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sttoru · 9 months ago
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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. bragging about your oh-so-perfect boyfriend to your friends certainly has its (welcomed) consequences. . .
tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff & smut. p in v -> unprotected. missionary. sweet but also nasty and condescending. creampie. body worship. size difference / - kink. nicknames ‘(little) princess, baby’. name calling once. not proof read bcs im sleepy. wc. 2k+
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“right! he’s so thoughtful,” you sigh dreamily as you chat with your friends over the phone. you’re laying on satoru’s bed, kicking your feet up while you remove your make-up. of course, you had to call your girls to tell them all about the little date you just had with your boyfriend.
satoru’s in the shower, so you’re taking the time to relive the experience.
“here she goes again y’all,” one of your friends sighs dramatically, to which the others follow with giggles of their own. they know that you can go on and on about your partner. they’ve heard all of it before.
you grin and roll your eyes, rubbing the cleansing wipe over your lips, removing the light pink gloss you had on. you’re all giddy as you recall what satoru has done and given to you this evening. you’ve been pampered—spoiled rotten.
“hey! don’t blame me,” you retort with a chuckle. your friends laugh and urge you to go on since they’re only joking. the stories you tell are always either adorable or heartwarming, and thus they’re happy to listen. plus, debriefing you on your love life is free entertainment.
it’s not unusual for you to stray from the main story. you ramble about the restaurant you’ve visited, the pretty green scenery you’ve walked past, the museum you’ve visited, the way satoru paid for everything and how he made sure to pick activities you’re interested.
you get an occasional ‘aww’ or ‘cuteee’ when you mention your boyfriend’s loving gestures. from the enormous bouquet of flowers he’s gotten you, to the fact that he carried you back into his apartment the moment you told him your feet were hurting.
walking in heels wasn’t the smart move you thought it was, though luckily you had a thoughtful lover by your side.
“he’s just so handsome ‘n stuff. god—“ you squeal, not even bothering to dampen your excitement. you hide your face behind your hands for a split second, gaining a few fan girling squeaks from your friends as well. they’re happy that you’re being treated like deserved.
you don’t hear the door of the bedroom open since you’re too busy gushing about satoru. you’re focused on your small pocket mirror, careful not to forget a spot on your face. you notice that your friends have gone quiet, but you don’t question it.
“his gentle personality is honestly such a turn-on,” you mumble as you rub off the concealer from under your eyes, “and his subtle yet possessive touches? phew, don’t get me started.” you continue to babble on about how hot satoru is when he gets mad, unable to point out a flaw.
you’re about to comment on your friends’ sudden silence when a hand lands on your shoulder. you freeze and finally make eye contact with no one other than satoru—hovering over you from behind. he’s smiling down at you and mumbles a quick, ‘hey, baby’, before kissing your forehead.
you try to explain the situation, yet have no idea where to start. you can hear a friend of yours snickering and another faintly whisper an ‘oh, girl. . .’
before you have the ability to get another word out, satoru cuts you off, waving at your front camera for a second. his smile reaches his eyes and his dimples show;
“hey ladies, mind if i steal my girl from you?” satoru asks as he puts an arm around you. he places his cheek against yours, awaiting an answer. your friends are left speechless at the sudden turn of events.
the white-haired man appears extremely good on screen. he’s basically blessing them with his handsome looks. the towel hanging over his head indicates that he just came out of a fresh shower. there’s a visible vein running down his neck—nearly bulging out of the skin—as if satoru’s holding himself back.
once your friends snap out of their daze, they greet satoru and nod, exchanging quick ‘see you later’s. your boyfriend thanks them with another one of his charming smiles. he waves at the camera again, “bye bye, thank you.”
the call ends and the bedroom falls quiet. you stare at your screen which fades to black, completely dumbfounded. you quickly sit up—your mind a chaotic mess full of thoughts.
“satoru, i uhm, i didn’t know—“ you attempt to form an explanation, though you realise that it’s likely futile. satoru’s probably heard every word that left your mouth. you look up at him, your voice a quiet whisper, “how much did you hear?”
the sorcerer grins. he’s so enamored with you; everything you do is adorable. he grabs your hands and holds then into his larger ones—thumbs gently rubbing your skin. he pulls them up to his lips so he could place chaste kisses on your knuckles.
“everything, princess,” satoru hums, rotating your hands to place kisses on the inside of your wrists. there’s a subtle blush on his cheeks that even reaches his ears. no matter how calm and collected he may seem, he’s still but a complete sucker to your love, “talking about me to your little friends, hm? how cute.”
a shiver runs down your spine. you feel your tummy turn as you’re slowly guided onto your back. multiple kisses cover your body—from head to toe—like a canvas getting painted on. satoru’s taking his sweet time, admiring the art that’s your physique.
every piece of clothing that comes off is a step closer to the grande revelation. the masterpiece that is you. moving from one empty spot - filling it with his kisses - to another. sighs of content leave your lover’s mouth with each reveal, as if he hasn’t seen the sight of your naked body before.
“does this turn you on, baby? my ‘subtle touches’?” satoru mutters against your breasts, remembering your earlier words. his blue eyes stare up at you through his white lashes. not wearing his blindfold may overstimulate him due to his abilities, but he’ll risk anything if it’s to admire you the best he can.
he chuckles when you nod. your boyfriend kisses your hard nipples—taking his time to swirl his tongue around both of them just to feel your back arch off the mattress. your hands holding onto him for life is extremely thrilling. “it turns me on too,” satoru confesses quietly. his slender fingers reach the hem of your panties, “you turn me on so fuckin’ much.”
your breath hitches when your underwear gets tossed somewhere across the room. you’re dripping, obviously. there’s no way you couldn’t get turned on by the way satoru’s been worshipping your entire being.
you can also see the effect you have on him; he’s sweating. the vein on his neck seems to grow more visible when your cunt is revealed to him.
“there she is,” satoru grins in satisfaction. he seems to be in a daze for a second before he regains composure. he looks at you for a quick check, needing to know if he has your consent before he continues. the moment you nod, your lover separates your legs.
you sniff and try to hide your embarrassed expression behind a hand. satoru’s quick to pin your wrist above your head so you wouldn’t have the chance to do any of that. “keep your eyes on me, yeah?” he leans in to place a swift kiss on your lips.
“mhm,” you nod after returning the peck. the white-haired man utters a small ‘thank you’ and undoes his sweatpants with his free hand. he fumbles with his boxers—unable to keep himself from trembling in pleasure from the view alone.
your small body underneath him is a sight he’ll never get tired of. that face of yours morphing into one of pleasure whenever you’re intimate is one of his favorite things to witness. thus why the missionary is his go to position.
“c’mon,” satoru kisses your cheek as he manages to pull his erected cock out of his underwear. it’s standing tall, the tip pointing right at the place it wants to be buried at—your wet, warm and inviting pussy, “you were so loud when talking with y’r friends ‘n now you’ve gone quiet on me.”
satoru pouts, “it’s not fair. i wanna hear my princess too.”
you almost choke on your spit because of how whiny yet demanding satoru sounds. you feel his fingers intertwine with yours, firmly holding your hand down above your head. you’re still flustered by the entire situation. you open your mouth as tears gather in your eyes, “i’m sorry, i’m jus— ngh!”
you can’t even get your words out. the lewd feeling of satoru rubbing his tip between your folds completely catches you off guard. he grins, as if he planned on doing that the moment you tried to speak. he’s such a tease.
“shh, shh, i know,” satoru coos mockingly, acting like he’s not doing it on purpose. you can’t blame the man; he’s been rock hard ever since he heard you praise him so openly through the phone. your lovely voice speaking so highly of him was driving him nuts.
you’re so appreciative for all he’s doing and it makes the sorcerer want to spoil you even more. to give you the love and affection you deserve because of how precious you are—even if you don’t realise it.
he wants to give you more. more, more, more.
without thinking, satoru pushes his cock right through your tight cunt. he shudders at the sight of your poor, small pussy struggling to take his fat dick. he can’t hurt you, he knows. especially with the amount of times the bulbous head of his cock nearly bruised your cervix.
though, it’s difficult not to go all out. you’re so accepting of everything he does—satoru can see that by the way your eyes stare at him. it’s all love. the light reflecting in your pupils makes them sparkle beautifully. he cusses under his breath, “y’re so pretty, baby. fuck, fuck, fuck. y’re making it so hard.”
satoru tries his best not to plunge his cock all the way to the hilt. he reaches halfway with each thrust, the thwacking sound increasing by the second. your legs automatically wrap around his waist and your fingers squeeze his.
“toruuu, fmhh, so big,” you babble, the drool forming in the corners of your lips threatening to drip down your chin. each soft yet firm thrust seems to resonate within you, evoking a sense of pleasurable contentment.
satoru lets out a haughty chuckle at the sight of you going cockdrunk already. he’s still trying to hold his urges back by focusing on your satisfaction alone. “i’ll give you something else to brag ‘bout to y’r friends,” he pants with a confident smirk, kissing your jawline as he ruts into you,
you’re embarrassed by your current predicament. despite that, you find yourself enjoying every consequence that your actions have caused. your moans echo in satoru’s ears, each slap of your bodies connecting sounding twice as loud.
his thick cock is stretching you out so well. your cunt is working overtime to make space for every inch. your boyfriend gently bites your bottom lip, his breath faltering when you clench around him in response.
“‘re ya gonna tell them?” satoru asks through a guttural moan. his hips move non-stop, aiming to please you until you lose your mind. he’ll live up to the expectations set no matter what. he kisses the swell of your breasts, “are ya gonna tell ‘em how you let your ‘lovely’ boyfriend fuck you like this? how y’re a complete slut for his cock?”
you don’t know how to react to his dirty talk. it’s getting you wetter, that’s for sure. your thighs shake around his waist and your tummy feels like it’s doing flips. satoru doesn’t leave it there, “gonna tell them about how good i fill you up, yeah? dirty little girl telling all her friends about our private life, tsk tsk.”
it’s overwhelming. the sudden increase in dirty talk makes you want to cum on spot. you feel like you’re being degraded, however satoru’s touches make you feel appreciated and loved. his hand holding yours above your head never leaves you—a sign that this is still him making love to you.
“am—am not gonna,” you hiccup. the words simply roll of your tongue without much thought. you’re mindlessly responding to your lover. “am not gonna tell them anything,” you continue before cutting yourself off with a string of whiny moans when satoru plays with your clit.
satoru shakes his head, increasing the pressure and speed in which he’s pumping into you. he loves the view of you being so helpless—succumbing to the pleasure he’s granting you. “sureeee, i believe you,” your boyfriend snickers and pushes his pulsing cock in further. his tone is soft but condescending, “i’ll trust my little princess to keep her mouth shut f’me.”
you’re getting so close. your nails dig into his skin and your noises get louder. you’re right on the edge of euphoria. the clit stimulation along with the feeling of being filled to the brim is enough to make you see stars.
satoru nods at your desperate whimpers that alarm him that you’re close to climax. “i got you, baby. cum f’me—i got you,” he places sloppy kisses all over your face and rams his cock in and out of you in a stronger rhythm. there’s nothing satoru wants to do in this world more than to flood your insides with his cum.
his cock doesn’t stop prodding at your sweet spots and it’s making you approach that peak; the peak of pleasure that’s going to push you over the edge. you hold tightly onto your lover and he doesn’t hesitate to return the embrace. “it’s okay, do it f’me,” satoru encourages you once again through a husky whisper.
you’re thankful that you have such an attentive partner. he can go from teasing you to comforting you and it’s the most reassuring thing ever. you’ve never had a man hold you so intimately while he’s balls deep into you.
“g’nna cum,” a strangled moan leaves your throat when you try to speak. your chests are pressed together and your heartbeats match—like the perfect pair you are. satoru feels his balls clench with an aching feeling, needing to release every last drop they have stored into your tiny cunt.
just thinking about the way you were bragging about him again, is enough. “take it—fuuuckk—take it all, baby,” the white-haired man takes a deep breath in and can’t help but bury his entire dick inside of you, that one last thrust making you yelp.
you reach your climaxes at the exact same time. your fluids mix as you feel satoru’s thick spurts of cum coat your insides a sticky white. your body spasms and your boyfriend instantly soothes you by rubbing your back. his own legs are trembling a little, but you’re far more important.
you don’t utter a word and simply focus on regaining your energy. all that you can say are incoherent babbles. “easy,” satoru kisses the corners of your eyes and relishes in the fact that he’s fucked you full of his cum. it’s a reminder of just how much he loves you.
a few encouraging words and hugs later and you’ve calmed down. you don’t fully grasp the reality of the situation until the adrenaline and other hormones drop down to a normal level.
you’re suddenly reminded by your previous words and this time, you succeed in hiding your face into the crook of satoru’s neck.
it’s certain that he’s greatly enjoyed overhearing you talk about him to your friends, but it’s still a somewhat embarrassing memory you wish to forget. “not a word, please. j-jus act like you haven’t heard anything,” you mumble quietly now that you’ve come down from your high.
satoru laughs softly. he can’t help but tease you after that—it’s a given. you’re still so caught up on what happened and it’s endearing.
however, satoru wouldn’t be him if he didn’t tease you about your little comments. without pulling out, he tilts his head back and stares down at you with a faint grin, “do i have to act like i haven’t fucked you silly just now too?”
“satoru!”
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plutotheplum · 6 months ago
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The First Fall of Snow
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emperor!zayne x concubine!reader - read part 2!
summary: the emperor isn't interested in his concubines, but an encounter with you is enough to change his mind.
cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, p in v, oral sex, praise kink, breast play, masturbation, thigh riding, mentions of exhibitionism, virginity loss
wc: 7.7k
a/n: i did imagine long-haired zayne for this (like his master of fate card!) and he just gives off emperor vibes soooo
also on ao3!
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The Emperor was a peculiar man. 
He was not a man who fancied company. When the years for marriage had passed, his royal advisors had grown increasingly anxious. All potential candidates were refused, princesses from far lands given profuse apologies and lavish gifts in hopes of quelling their anger after they had traveled such vast distances, only for the Emperor to turn them away. 
In an effort to try and draw out the Emperor’s romantic and sexual nature, several concubines were gathered. The Emperor had never overseen this, the affair carried out in veiled whispers as his advisors had sought to dispel their desperation by pooling their efforts into securing an heir for the dynasty. 
That was what you were told when you arrived in the palace anyways. It had been a year since you were hand-picked as a concubine, along with a few other girls who had been eager to accept when the opportunity had been provided to them.
You had only met the Emperor a handful of times, when you first been brought to the palace and during private meetings that had been scheduled. He had never touched you or any of the other girls, had never sought after pleasure or secured an heir, much to the chagrin of Imperial staff. Like any other person, you thought it was odd. 
Part of you felt as though you were wasting away in this palace, days spent outside by the pretty gardens and overlooking the fish in the ponds, entertaining stray cats or inside, like you were now.
You stare down at the steaming water in the teapot, watching as the tea leaves stain the water. The blurry reflection of your face looks back up at you and there’s a soft sigh escaping you, wondering what might’ve been if you hadn’t been chosen.
Such thoughts are lost when a short, stout man comes hobbling in. He grabs at your arm, teacup filled with hot tea tipping to the side. You wince when the hot liquid lands against your skin, burning you.
“The Emperor needs tea,” the eunuch hisses, pulling another set of teaware from the shelves as he tugs you closer.
“Why does that involve me?,” you ask, trying to free yourself so you can soothe your irritated skin under cool water.
“You will deliver it to him,” he says, fiddling with your robes and straightening out the fabric to make you look more presentable.
“Have another one of the girls-” you begin to complain, shrinking away when he sends you a glare.
You huff out a breath, making sure the pin in your hair is in place. There’s no time to tend to the burn on your forearm, the reddened skin hidden by the sleeves of your robes as the eunuch passes you the tray. 
Sending him a glare of your own, you don’t stay behind to be chastised. Feet padding against the floor, you pass through the courtyard and hallway. Imperial guards stand outside the Emperor’s quarters and you bow your head, stating your business. 
One of the guards opens the doors and you suck in a sharp breath, gathering your confidence as you step inside the Emperor’s quarters. 
It’s a familiar place. The room is large, scrolls stacked upon shelves tucked against the walls, decorative screens partitioning the entrance to where his bed was placed. You swallow nervously, eyes blinking about. You can’t seem to find the Emperor. Deciding to step forward, you’re pushing your luck, sticking your head outside the open doors at the other end of his quarters. It opens into a private courtyard, greenery pruned to perfection.
There’s a frown pulling at your lips when you can’t see him. Perhaps he had left? Just as you’re about to give up, a man clears his throat. You jolt in place, tea sloshing as you struggle to keep a hold on the tray. Whirling around, you find the Emperor standing there, his arms crossed over his chest. There’s a curse entering your mind, placing the tea tray down on a table nearby before your knees are bending, meeting the floor as you bow in a seated position.
“Please forgive me, your majesty” you breathe out, eyes squeezing shut. 
You would rather not feel the wrath of the Emperor.
“I did not ask for tea,” he says bluntly.
“The- the eunuch insisted,” you supply lamely.
The Emperor only sighs and your eyes are peeking open, head tilting slightly as you try to get a glimpse of his expression. 
“You may stand,” he murmurs, waving his hand. You do as he says, stumbling to your feet, teeth gritting together when the cloth of your robes rubs against the still fresh burn on your forearm.
He takes a seat on a cushioned mat and you’re standing awkwardly, trying to taper down your fidgeting as the pain flares up again.
“Is something the matter?” the Emperor asks when he sees your inability to stand still. 
You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. The Emperor only stares at you, unimpressed. His gaze drags over you and your cheeks are flushing in embarrassment. 
“Sit,” he says suddenly, pointing to the space across from him.
“I-” you begin to refuse, restless to get out of this stifling place and tend to the burn that was currently beginning to sting.
“Sit, or will you refuse an Imperial command?”
To refuse an Imperial command is to forfeit one’s life. It’s why you’re sitting down in a flurry and looking everywhere at everything except him. 
“Arm,” he murmurs, holding his hand out.
You extend your arm towards his hand without question. He hums when he brushes the sleeves away, moving your arm closer to his eyes so he can examine the burn. The Emperor’s lithe fingers prod at the edges of your reddened skin, and a whimper slips out of you, the tender skin sensitive.
He pulls away from you and your eyes are darting towards the doors, wondering whether it would be worth it to make a break for it. The Emperor returns soon after, a small pot in his hand, containing some sort of salve.
“Your majesty, it is beneath you to tend to such a matter,” you remind him, feeling his cool fingers wrap around your arm again.
“Perhaps so, but I happen to take interest in the ailments of the body,” he replies, spreading the salve against your skin.
So the rumors were true then. Many spoke of the Emperor’s affinity for the study of medicine. You had assumed he would’ve taken more interest in other pursuits such as hunting, but it appeared the Emperor valued intellect above all else. 
As the salve soothes your skin, you find your gaze slipping over him. Pale skin, intelligent eyes framed by dark eyelashes, a strong nose and long hair tied back neatly, there was no doubt that the Emperor was a handsome man. 
His eyes flick up to meet yours, his own gaze dipping over you once again. You feel as though you’re being scrutinized, so you’re sitting up straighter, trying to not present yourself as a mess.
“He sent you here to entice me,” the Emperor explains, beginning to wrap your wound using a thin, silken cloth.
“Oh. Is- is it working?” you ask tentatively.
“If you consider making a fool of yourself enticing, then maybe so,” he says, the side of his mouth curling up as amusement flashes through his eyes.
There’s a sharp scoff leaving you, arm tugging free from his grasp. The bandages are tight around your arm and you send him a frown, placing your hands in your lap.
“You take liberties that others do not,” he sighs, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I apologize, your majesty,” you whisper, head hanging low. He was right, you were taking liberties. 
“Zayne,” he says, opening a scroll.
“Your- your majesty?” you reply, confusion flitting across your face.
“Zayne,” he repeats, not bothering to even spare you a glance “you may address me by my name.”
You hold your tongue in return, eyes narrowing as you stare at the Emperor. It must be a trick of some sort, you think, a ploy to make you slip up, and just like the traitors of the Empire, your head would be severed from your neck. 
“You would distrust my own command?” he asks, sensing your hesitation. “I never said such a thing!” you protest, exasperation spreading across your face.
Sitting in place, you pout to yourself, tracing random shapes onto the cushioned mat. Zayne ignores your presence and it has you fidgeting even more, a huff of air leaving you. 
The Emperor only continues to read the scroll in his hands. Pouring out some tea, you decide to indulge yourself. Your face contorts when you taste the now lukewarm liquid. It’s hardly enjoyable. Letting out another deep sigh, your body sags. There’s nothing for you to do here, the Emperor won’t carry a conversation and you only find that you’re making a fool of yourself even more.
“Shall I leave?” you ask him, feeling hopeful that you might be able to escape.
Zayne shakes his head. 
“Stay a little while. It would do good for my advisors to think they have succeeded.”
“Succeeded?” you echo, brows furrowing.
“They expect an heir,” he sighs, setting down the scroll to give you his full attention, “surely you are aware of my… aversion to the entire matter.”
“I cannot say I understand,” you murmur, “you need an heir, and an illegitimate heir is an heir nonetheless.”
“The duty will be fulfilled when I am ready,” he says firmly.
Your head tilts at that, eyes narrowing. When he was ready? There would be no reason for the Emperor to not be ready.
“Other noblemen take pleasure in using women’s bodies,” you mutter, peering over at him, “it is strange that you have not yet touched any one of us.”
“You wish for me to use you?” Zayne asks, raising his brows. 
“N- no! I just meant, it is odd that an Emperor whose rule has granted him anything he may possibly desire chooses not to engage in anything,” the words come out of you in a rush, your cheeks flushing. 
“And have you engaged in anything?” he shoots back, his eyes sharp.
Admitting your own virginity wasn’t on your plan of things to do today. Your cheeks are hot with embarrassment, eyes averted to the side. Your silence is answer enough, and Zayne sighs, his fingers rubbing at his temples.
“I did not ask for concubines,” he says quietly, “and so, I do not expect you to serve me in such a fashion.”
“You may leave,” he says after a few moments, standing up with you.
Your head tilts, teeth worrying into your lower lip as he stares down at you.
“It appears you care for me,” he murmurs, his hand lifting to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
Your heart flutters at the unexpected action, eyes widening when he touches you.
“Only for the dynasty,” you breathe out.
Zayne lets out a low laugh at that. He gives you a faint smile and your heart stutters in your chest. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a man look so ethereal, but such is the favor of the gods.
It’s probably why you’re leaning forward, hands reaching to fix the crumpled collar of his silk robes. He stiffens under your touch and you pretend as though you don’t notice. Your fingers graze his skin and his hand curls around your wrist, stopping your movements.
“I shall expect you here in a week’s time,” he says.
“A week’s time,” you nod, feeling his fingers touch the cloth wrapped around your burn.
The Emperor lowers his head, his fingers gripping your chin gently so he can stare into your eyes more intently. He seems lost in thought as he swipes his thumb over your chin, his head nearing until you can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. 
It’s almost too much for your racing heart. Your already half-lidded eyes are slipping shut, lips parting as you lean in closer, waiting for him to kiss you. But it never comes and your eyes flutter open to see Zayne staring down at you with a hint of mirth in his eyes. He was making a fool of you yet again. 
To preserve whatever dignity you have left, you’re pulling away, freeing yourself from his suffocating grasp. Bowing in deference, you don’t look back to see his expression, pushing past the doors as you leave his quarters.
Almost immediately, you’re met with the eunuch from earlier.
“Well?” he asks, his cheeks puffed with exertion as he tries to keep up with the pace you’ve set in an attempt to escape questioning.
“Nothing happened,” you reply curtly, looking back to see the short man totter after you.
“Nothing?” he repeats, voice laced with irritation, “not even-“ his voice lowers, mindful of the other staff working in the palace, “he did not even touch you?” 
You shake your head. He doesn’t need to know that the Emperor had indeed touched you; tended to your burn even, that you were hoping the Emperor would hold you close and kiss you, and he most certainly didn’t need to know about your little displays of insolence. 
The eunuch soon loses interest in you, grumbling curses under his breath as you retire to your own chambers shared with the other girls. It’s no secret that many of them have become bored with the Emperor’s apathetic outlook, some turning their charms to try and garner the affections of noblemen at court.
-
It’s raining the day you’re meant to meet the Emperor. 
You step inside his chambers when the guards permit you, your hands clasped in front of you.
“Your majesty” you bend at the waist, bowing.
Zayne hums in response, striding closer to you. His fingers lift your arm, undoing the gauze to uncover your injury. The salve he had applied to your skin had soothed the burn, and it had begun to heal nicely. 
“I told you to address me by my name,” he reminds you, his brows furrowed in concentration as he examines your skin, “must I remind you again, or will phrasing it as an Imperial command suffice?”
Your mouth opens automatically to retort sharply. He looks at you, brows raised. Spending more time in his presence has only vexed you, irritation making you almost forget who you were with. Mouth clamping shut, you send him a tight-lipped smile. 
“Forgive me,” you say begrudgingly, “Zayne.”
“Better,” he murmurs.
You don’t know whether he’s referring to your obedience or the state of your wound. 
“It will scar,” Zayne continues, turning your arm so that he can see your skin in better light.
“Badly?” you ask, a frown tugging at your lips.
“More salve will lessen the effect,” he says, finally letting go of your arm.
You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. The Emperor stares at you, his gaze unwavering. It has you wishing that you hadn’t listened to his request at all. The palace physician would have more than likely provided you with the necessary treatment, and yet here you were, being tended to by the Emperor of all people.
“Do you wish for me to repay you?” the words are out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.
“Did we not already have this conversation?” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I had assumed-”
“Do not assume anything.”
Zayne’s voice has hardened, the slight softness in his eyes no longer present. You’ve overstepped. He pulls away from you, turning his back to you as he walks towards the open doors of his quarters. Rain wets the inside, the mats on the floor darkening but the Emperor doesn’t seem to care.
Feeling like a scolded child, you trail after him.
“Forgive me,” you whisper, keeping your gaze trained on the floor.
It seems to be all that you’re doing now. Apology after apology after apology. It’s a miracle you haven’t yet been executed for your impertinence. 
He turns to face you, his hand lifting. For a moment you think he’s about to slap you, a grimace settling on your face as you await the stinging punishment. Instead, all you feel is his hand on your head, petting you like you were some sort of unruly cat.
Zayne’s fingers begin to slip and you can feel the soft tips of his fingers graze the side of your face, traveling lower as he traces your jawline. You hold still, eyes wide with anticipation. He doesn’t stop, his fingers dragging down the length of your neck, parting your robes until you feel his fingers swipe across your collarbone. 
“You are stubborn,” he says softly, “steadfast and oddly endearing. Perhaps I should keep you by my side.”
You stare up at him, jaw slackening, baffled. 
“I thought you would appreciate it,” he murmurs, the sharpness in his eyes returning, “just moments ago you were offering yourself to me.”
It’s a struggle to bite back the whimper that so eagerly wants to escape when his fingers drag lower, skimming across the soft skin of the tops of your breasts. His other hand plays with the knot tied at the side, nimble fingers untying the only thing keeping your robes together. The soft fabric slips from your shoulders and you find yourself in front of the Emperor, breasts bared.
He lets out a low hum, both of his hands coming to cup your breasts. Your teeth have been biting into your lip so hard that you can taste the tang of blood on your tongue. Zayne swipes his thumbs over your nipples and you find yourself unable to rip free from his wandering touch. 
“Should you not tell me to stop?” the Emperor asks, his face nearing yours.
There’s no will left in you to answer, a sharp gasp escaping you when he pinches your nipples to punctuate his question. The sensation only adds to the wetness pooling between your thighs.
“Please,” you whimper, the desperation clear in your eyes, “please, Zayne.”
“I may have the favor of the gods, but I cannot foresee your desires,” he whispers, the tip of his nose brushing yours, “tell me. What is it you want?”
“Kiss,” you manage out, “kiss me, please.”
The Emperor’s hands haven’t stopped their exploration, squeezing and groping at your breasts. Zayne lowers his head, forehead pressing against yours as you mewl and whimper under the onslaught of his caressing touches. The ache between your thighs has become unbearable with the way he plays with your nipples. He tugs and pinches, thumbs swiping over your areolas to grant you reprieve before rolling your nipples between his fingers again. 
“Wantonness has made you far more polite,” he whispers, lips brushing against yours.
It’s not a kiss, and you’re squirming in frustration with the way the Emperor is stringing you along, driving you to the edge of pleasure and yet refusing to grant you what you desire the most. 
“I- I can be even more polite,” you mumble pathetically, hands curling into his robes.
You chase after his lips, brows furrowing when he draws up to his full height, smiling down at you. Lips jutting out into a pout, you stand on the tips of your toes, trying to tug him back down so you can kiss him. It’s a futile endeavor, the Emperor only manages to evade all of your attempts to draw him into a kiss. 
“I shall look forward to it,” Zayne murmurs, his lips pressing against your forehead gently.
There’s no way to discern what exactly is going through the Emperor’s mind. He no longer continues with his lustful touches, pulling away with a final caress of your breasts as he pulls your loosened robes over your shoulders again. You can only watch with dazed eyes, frozen in place as he helps redo the knot holding your robes together, covering you up properly so that unnecessary slivers of skin aren’t showing anymore. 
“Do you do this with the others?” you ask, eyes finding his.
“Does the thought make you jealous?”
You frown at his retort, sending him a glare, “the Emperor may do as he wishes,” you grumble.
It’s hard to hide the jealousy that underlies your words. You want to be the only person he touches, to be the object of his affections. It’s a selfish desire to want the Emperor to need you only, but you can’t help yourself, envy flaring up inside of you at the thought of him touching another woman the way he touches you. 
“You are the first to elicit such a reaction from me,” Zayne says, his fingers tilting your head so he can stare into your eyes more directly.
Letting out an irritated huff, you feel irked by his subtle way of trying to please you. He doesn’t reply to your display of irritation, nudging his forehead against yours as though trying to convey his affection. 
“Go now,” he whispers, petting your hair again before he’s moving away, turning his back to you as he returns to peer out at the rain that falls outside.
You have half the mind to call him out on his behavior, but the reminder of your position is the stifling reality in which you live in. Despite his gaze elsewhere, you bow to him, turning on your heel to leave.
Thankfully, there are no lurking eunuchs to question your brief stay in the Emperor’s quarters. The palace staff don’t pay you any mind as you return to your chambers, and you explain to the other girls that you feel sick. 
The whimpers that spill from your mouth are muffled by the pillow that you’ve pressed your face into, the fingers of one hand rubbing at your clit and the other hand pinching at your nipples as you try to mimic the way the Emperor had touched you. With the image of Zayne’s face ingrained into your mind, it doesn’t take long, a soft moan escaping into the quiet of your chambers as you come apart on your fingers. 
-
You’re spying on the Emperor. 
The past year had been plenty of time to explore the palace and figure out the little passageways that weren’t well known. Perhaps you were just as bad as his advisors that were intent on prying into Zayne’s private life, but you just couldn’t help yourself. 
It’s why you’re here now, hovering outside his quarters, pretending to take great interest in the portraits that line the halls. Every now and then, your eyes flick over to where the guards stand, trying to discern whether anyone was entering or leaving his chambers. 
You almost feel pathetic for acting in such a way, but he was the only thing you could think about. Visiting the gardens had grown dull, despite the leaves turning into pretty shades of orange and red in the autumn air, thoughts of the Emperor taking root in the crevices of your mind instead. 
“My grandfather,” a deep voice breaks through your thoughts. You don’t have to look to know who it is.
“Handsome,” you mutter, taking a step closer to examine the portrait genuinely this time.
“My guards have complained about a woman hiding in the hallways,” Zayne says, his hand falling onto your shoulder. “I did not realize it was an offense to admire fine art,” you shoot back.
“There are far finer things in this palace,” he murmurs, stepping forward until you’ve been backed up against the wall.
It’s becoming more and more apparent to you that the Emperor must be suffering some sort of illness to the mind. You struggle to come up with a reason as to why his arm curls around your waist, whilst he presses himself closer. 
You try and push at his firm chest, but he doesn’t budge.
“People will see,” you whisper heatedly, eyes darting to the sides despite Zayne being so close that you can hardly see anything but him.
“So let them.”
Zayne reaches out, his hand cupping your cheek. You stiffen under the sudden touch, eyes widening when his thumb brushes over your skin.
“Why are you doing this?” you whisper, frowning.
“Is my mind not allowed to change?” he asks in return, head lowering until his forehead is pressed against yours.
“I am far more concerned that you have lost your mind.”
The Emperor lets out a deep chuckle and you think the air around you both has somehow grown thicker with how lightheaded you’re feeling.
“I assure you, I am still of sound mind.”
His nose brushes against yours, and you rise to meet the challenge, nose nudging against his gently. The heat of his body is intoxicating, his arm tightening around your waist as he exhales. Your eyes flutter shut, anticipating the feeling of his lips against yours.
It’s not to be, not when an Imperial guard insists on interrupting your moment with the Emperor.
“Is this woman bothering you?” the guard asks, his gaze dragging over you with obvious disregard. 
The utter nerve. Eye twitching, you ready yourself to snap back but Zayne’s squeeze to your waist has you staying silent.
“She was feeling ill,” Zayne lies steadily. 
The Emperor’s mask of cool indifference slips over him easily, his lips pulled thin as he speaks to the guard. 
“I shall escort her to the physician,” the guard offers, his hand reaching for you.
Zayne pulls you out of reach before the guard can touch you, tucking you against his side.
“No need,” Zayne says, “I shall take her myself.”
You can almost hear the nervous gulp that the guard takes, his face paling at the Emperor’s stony disposition. Unfortunately, you don’t get long to revel in the satisfaction that spreads through your body when Zayne reprimands the guard. Zayne tugs you along, his hand wrapped around your wrist. It appears the Emperor knows of the passages as well, and a few twists and turns later you find yourself back in the Emperor’s quarters, having bypassed the Imperial guards.
“Did you see his face?” you snicker, looking over at Zayne.
Your smile fades when he doesn’t reply, the grip on your wrist almost painful without how firmly his hand is still holding onto you.
“Zayne? Are you-”
You nearly trip over your own feet when he suddenly pulls you closer. Zayne’s lips are slotting over yours, his large hands cupping your cheeks as he kisses you. There’s a small noise of surprise coming from you, eyes widening before they flutter shut, your body lulled into submission with the feverish kisses Zayne gives you.
He groans into your mouth and you cling to his robes, rising up on the tips of your toes to meet his kisses better. The Emperor might’ve been starved with the way he’s kissing you, his lips firm and insistent against yours whilst he holds you in place. 
Zayne pulls away after a while, and you’re completely and utterly dazed, chest heaving as soft pants fill the space between you both.
“Will you have me?” he whispers, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek.
No man has ever spoken such words to you. Your breath catches in your throat, heart clenching uncomfortably in your chest. As the Emperor, he shouldn’t say such a thing. 
“It is beneath you to ask,” you murmur, averting your gaze.
“And yet, I am asking,” Zayne replies, his hands maneuvering your head until you have no choice but to look into his eyes.
Letting out an irritated huff, as though he had somehow inconvenienced you, you lean forward and press a chaste kiss against his lips. You can’t bring yourself to say the words out loud, feeling uncharacteristically shy as you shift on the spot.
“I see.”
Zayne’s surging towards you again, lips crashing onto yours. You whimper, hands scrabbling at his shoulders as you press yourself closer. His arms are wrapping around your waist, keeping you flush against him as he ravages your mouth. His tongue is teasing your lower lip, coaxing it open. You have no choice but to obey, letting out a muffled moan when his tongue slides deeper into your mouth, his hand pulling at the pin holding your hair together. 
You squeak when he picks you up, his lips trailing burning kisses down your neck as he nudges the partition blocking his way to his bed. Zayne undoes the knot holding your robes together before long, your thighs straddling his hips as you sit perched on his lap once he sits down on his bed.
“Have you really never given yourself to anyone?” Zayne asks quietly, his fingers tracing across the soft skin of your shoulders.
You nod, body leaning forward to chase after his touch as his fingers find their way back down to your nipples, rolling the pebbled buds between the pads of his fingers.
“H- have you?” you ask, biting your lip as he presses heated kisses against your collarbone.
He shakes his head, lips drifting lower and lower, until your body twitches as his lips enclose around your nipple. A whimper leaves you, and Zayne grows bolder with his movements, sucking harshly as his tongue swirls around your nipple, flicking the little bud in his mouth.
Your hands have drifted into his hair, pulling free the band that holds his long locks together. His dark hair runs past his shoulders, the strands soft under your touch as you pull at his hair, moaning as he continues his exploration across your chest.
Zayne looks up at you with half-lidded eyes, spit-slick lips dragging across your chest to pepper kisses against your other breast, his mouth enveloping your nipple yet again. He lets out a low groan and you whine, pulling at his robes desperately to pull them off.
“Oh,” you breathe out when he lets you, biting your lip at the sight of his bare chest and abdomen. Your fingers spread across his chest eagerly, mapping out the expanse of his skin. There’s a sly smile spreading across your face when you see his cheeks flush pink as your fingers drag lower, past his navel.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asks hoarsely, his head tipping back.
“Should I not?” you whisper, fingers delving lower until you can feel his hardness through his robes.
You rub your hand against the bulge experimentally, eyes lighting up when he lets out a grunt. Face tucking into the crook of his neck, your breasts squished against his chest, you place hungry kisses against his neck, palming at his bulge.
The Emperor tugs at your hair, pulling your head back. You stare up at him, meeting him in the middle when he leans forward, sharing a sloppy kiss. His hands squeeze at your waist and you shift in his lap, letting him undress you completely.
Nervousness flits across your face as he stares at your bare body, hands leaving him to cover yourself up. He grabs your hands before you can, placing a soft kiss to your jaw.
“You are beautiful,” he whispers, lips drifting to kiss the shell of your ear.
A shy smile pulls at your lips and he squeezes your waist again. Your brows furrow when he jostles you, making you straddle his thigh instead.
“I want to watch,” Zayne says, his fingers dimpling into the fat of your thighs.
“Watch?” you echo, head tilting in question.
“I want to watch you come undone,” he clarifies, gripping your hips as he guides you into grinding against his thigh.
A strangled noise leaves you and he pats your hip, satisfied. You’re so aroused that your slick has begun to wet his silken robes, the fabric darkening as you roll your hips, dragging your pussy against his thigh.
“I- I want to watch you too,” you gasp out.
Zayne obliges and you watch as he pulls his cock free. The sight is almost enough to have you coming on his covered thigh. His fingers wrap around his cock and you whine, hips rolling faster. “Is it to your satisfaction?” he murmurs.
You nod rapidly. It is. You’ve never seen one before, but you just know Zayne’s is pretty compared to the others. His cock is thick, flushed prettily at the tip to match the blush on his cheeks and you lick your lips, wondering what it might feel like in your mouth. 
“Another time,” Zayne says, smiling when he sees the expression on your face.
It’s entrancing to watch the way his hand drags up and down his cock, his long fingers wrapped around himself. Globs of pre-cum bead at the tip, wetting his hands and his cock, creating a sinful sound. Unable to help yourself, you tilt your head, tongue lolling out as you let your own spit drip down onto his cock. You hum in delight when his thighs twitch, your eyes peering into his as you drag your cunt against his thigh, clit catching on the fabric of his robes just right. 
“I did not know my concubine was so depraved,” he murmurs, his hand kneading the flesh at your hip roughly.
You give him a dopey smile, eyes slipping back down to watch his hand move around his cock whilst you rock your hips. Head falling against his shoulder, your lips drag across his chest, landing soft kisses against his skin before nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, nipping his skin lightly.
Airy sounds fill the air, his quiet moans and your soft whimpers emanating in his quarters. 
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you press yourself closer, guiding his head into another kiss. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth with no hesitation. Zayne’s pulling apart suddenly, his previous desire of watching you come undone on your thigh forgotten as he manhandles your body, making you lay down against his bed.
The Emperor kisses you over and over, and your head is swirling, trying to keep up whilst his fingers have found their way down to your pussy, rubbing your wetness across the sensitive flesh before he finds your clit. All it takes is one firm press of his thumb, your thighs twitching violently as you grasp at the sheets, moaning loudly as you come. He smiles against your lips, granting you one last kiss before he directs his attention elsewhere, his face disappearing between your thighs.
“Z-Zayne!” you squeal, pushing at his head, trying to get him to stop as the overstimulation becomes too much.
The Emperor ignores you in favor of thumbing apart your folds, his eyes trained on your clit.
“Pretty” he whispers, the pads of his fingers stroking over your clit gently, “and so, so swollen.”
It has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and he kisses the inside of your thighs, edging closer to your pussy, letting out a low breath, the air hitting your exposed pussy.
He groans when you tug at his hair, and you writhe, trying to somehow free yourself from the onslaught of his tongue as he laves over your pussy, pressing sloppy kisses against your skin, his lips latching onto your swollen clit. Zayne’s tongue flicks against the sensitive bud, teasing you.
Something between a moan and a scream climbs its way out your throat, the sound ringing in through his chambers as you come again, thighs firmly squeezing his head. Your eyes widen when you realize the guards are still outside the doors, panic flaring through your body as you scramble to sit up.
Zayne’s hand slides over your mouth before you can get anything out, the stern look in his eyes making you go still. The rapping of the guard’s knuckles against the door has you rigid, eyes widening in alarm as he begins to move his tongue yet again. 
You glare at Zayne, tugging at his hair roughly to make it hurt as you attempt to get his mouth off of you. Zayne only gives you a hazy look, looking utterly gone as he presses his face deeper into your cunt. It’s a struggle to keep the noises in, your body shaking as his nose rubs into your clit and his tongue fucks in and out of your aching hole. 
“Your majesty?” An urgent voice calls out from behind the door, and you can hear the faint scuffling noises of the guards’ boots. 
“Someone get this door open!” another voice hisses, the sliding doors rattling soon after.
The Emperor grunts into your cunt, raising up finally. The sight of him is nearly enough to make you come for a third time. Zayne is utterly disheveled, his cheeks pink and the lower half of his face glistening with your slick. 
You watch as he runs his hand through his hair, biting your lip as you let your gaze wander, catching on his cock once again. He looks painfully hard, cum smeared across his skin and drool is pooling in your mouth. Getting onto your knees, you crawl forward eager to envelop it in your mouth.
The tip makes its way into your mouth for a brief moment and you can barely suck when Zayne is yanking you off of his cock, his hand curled into your hair. 
“Everything is fine,” the Emperor snaps, narrowing his eyes when you pout.
“We heard-”
“I said,” Zayne’s voice grows louder, “everything is fine.”
You think he might take out his wrath on you with the way he grips your cheeks roughly, planting another kiss to your lips. He’s manhandling you yet again, pushing at your shoulders to make you lie down as he settles his hips between your thighs.
Zayne’s cum smears against your skin and you whimper when the fat tip of his cock nudges against your clit. He lands a gentler kiss to your cheek, his hand cupping your cheek as you squirm under him, whimpering as he grinds his cock against your cunt.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, his face pressing into the crook of your neck as he lets his cock slide up and down against your folds, “my good girl.”
“Yours,” you agree, cheek squishing against the pillow, “all yours.”
“I want to see you like this all the time,” Zayne confesses, his hand grasping his cock to press it firmly against your cunt, coating it with your arousal, “all flustered and needy… perhaps I am losing my sanity.”
You need him inside of you. The emptiness in your pussy has made you all too aware, hips bucking with every drag of his heavy cock.
“More,” you whisper, voice slurring, “Zayne, I want more.”
Zayne draws back slightly and you watch as he squeezes his cock, pre-cum dripping steadily onto your thigh. He reaches for your hand, fingers lacing with yours.
“Ready?” he murmurs.
You nod, swallowing down your nervousness. He presses his cock into your hole and the stretch is uncomfortable, a pained whimper leaving you as Zayne guides his cock into you. 
“A little more,” he coaxes, kissing your forehead to try and distract you from the initial stretch.
He finally pushes his entire cock in, and you feel as though the air has been punched out of your lungs. Zayne fills you up so perfectly, his cock snug inside your cunt, the emptiness from earlier disappearing almost immediately.
It appears you have affected him just as much, his eyes squeezed shut as he pants into the crook of your neck, trying to get used to the wet heat of your cunt. 
“Perfect,” he mutters mindlessly, and you can feel the twitch of his cock from inside of you, “so- so perfect and warm and tight.”
A hazy smile drifts across your face, legs locking tighter around his hips as your pussy clenches around him.
Zayne lets out a ragged gasp, and you know he can feel it. His eyes bore into yours, brows pulled together in annoyance at your little tease.
“Little minx,” he hisses.
It’s you that gasping this time when he draws his hips back, nails clawing at his back as he thrusts into you. His cock is stretching you out, over and over, as he tries to press it in deeper, trying to carve a path from your pussy to your heart.
“Too- too much!” you wail, arms wrapping around his neck to cling onto him.
“Do you want the guards to hear?” Zayne murmurs against your ear, his hips slowing slightly.
Through the haze of it all, your head turns, eyes finding his. The truth is, you wouldn’t exactly be opposed to the idea. Zayne can see the flash of interest in your eyes and he lets out a hoarse laugh, shaking his head.
“I should have taken you sooner,” he mutters, his fingers squeezing at your hips, “kept you close to me from the beginning.”
You preen at the thought, pressing sloppy kisses against his jaw, feeling his cock drag in and out of you.
“Next time, I shall take you on my throne.”
Your movements pause, eyes widening as he whispers those words, his lips brushing across yours.
“Not like that-” you begin to say, cheeks flushing deeper as you imagine him taking you on his throne, his hips rutting into yours like they were now.
“Why not?” he asks, “Shall I command it? Have-” Zayne lets out a shuddering breath “have my entire court watch as my pretty, little concubine loses her mind, drunk on my cock as I claim her atop my throne?”
You moan unabashedly, cunt clenching around him tightly. Zayne grunts, his hips stuttering when at the feeling of your walls tightening before he’s gripping your thigh, his chest flush against yours as he picks up the pace. It’s no secret that the guards must have heard what was happening inside, your loud moans most likely drifting through the wood of the doors. Both you and the Emperor don’t seem to care, lost in the blur of lust that swirls between you both.
“Deeper,” you mumble, pouting up at him, “need- need you closer, Zayne.”
“You are going to be the death of me,” Zayne mutters, dropping his weight on top of you.
You mewl in delight, the feeling of his body against yours deliciously warm. He hikes your thighs up a little higher, hips pressing deeper until you gasp. You can feel his balls pressed snugly against your ass, his cock as deep inside of you as it could go.
“Take it,” he whispers, his hand beginning to stroke your hair as he moves his hips. Short, sharp thrusts that serve to bury his cock into your cunt the way you want, “take it, my love.”
My love. Skin against skin. His hand stroking your hair gently. Girthy cock filling you up perfectly.
The sensations mixed with his affection are too much, pulling at your heart uncomfortably until you let out a sniffle, staring up at him with glassy eyes.
Concern passes through his eyes when he hears you sniffle, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb swipes away a stray tear that beads at the corner of your eye.
“Am I hurting you?” Zayne asks softly.
You shake your head, lips trembling even more at his display of concern. 
“I just like you a lot is all,” you whisper, sniffling quietly.
“I like you too,” Zayne replies in kind, his lips pressing soft kisses against your cheek, “and I take care of what’s mine.”
He leans down, lips pressing against yours in a tender kiss. Your tears wet his cheeks as he keeps you there, kissing you gently whilst his hips roll into you.
“Let go for me, my love” he murmurs, and you’re clenching around him again, feeling his hand sneak its way between your bodies as his thumb rubs against your clit.
You whimper, head pressing back as you arch your back, the sensation of his cock and his fingers driving you further and further to the edge until he latches his mouth onto your breast, catching your nipple between his teeth. He bites down and a broken moan fills the air, body shuddering as you come on his cock.
“Oh fuck,” Zayne grits out when he feels the harsh clench of your cunt around his cock.
You can feel him bury his face into your chest and you reach up weakly, running your fingers through his hair. It’s enough to have him letting out a guttural noise against your chest, his fat cock twitching as his thick cum floods your pussy.
The Emperor lays on top of you, both of your bodies loosened completely. You whimper when he pulls out of you, his cum beginning to leak out from your cunt. Zayne stares at the sight for a moment, entranced, before pulling you closer, letting you press your face into his chest as he kisses your forehead. 
“Everyone will know by now,” you whisper.
“They will,” he agrees, his fingers prying your face away from where it hides.
Zayne peers down into your eyes, a faint smile playing across his lips as he swipes his thumbs against your skin.
“Stay here with me,” he says quietly, “by my side.”
You laugh softly at his proposition.
“I am your concubine,” you murmur, reaching up to curl your hand around his wrist, “nothing more.”
“You will be more,” Zayne insists, his voice hardening,  “I will have you.”
“Your advisors would not allow it!” you protest, eyes turning glassy again.
“Desperation will make them vulnerable to acceptance,” he retorts, his body pressing closer as though to keep you tethered to him, hands tightening around your cheeks.
“I am the Emperor,” he continues, forehead pressing against yours as his eyes bore into yours, “you said it yourself. I may do as I wish, and what I wish for is for you to be by my side.”
You swallow harshly, blinking up at him when you hear the sternness of his voice. He doesn’t give you a chance to reply, kissing you desperately.
“Stay with me, my love” he whispers again, stealing kiss after kiss from you.
“Okay,” you relent, sinking into his embrace and returning his kisses just as desperately, “okay.”
The Emperor holds you close to his chest, his arms wrapped around you tightly. The heat of his body has your eyes drooping shut, his lips brushing over your forehead as he whispers sweet promises of his love.
Outside, far away from the warmth of love’s embrace, the first fall of snow has begun to drift from the sky.
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matchingbatbites · 1 month ago
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Eddie doesn't like sports.
Well, okay, that's not technically true. Growing up in the deep south left him with an ingrained interest in college football that he's not sure he'll ever be able to shake, but at least he can understand that game. He doesn't know a single fucking thing about hockey.
The rest of the guys had been excited when Chrissy said the band had been offered tickets to see the local NHL team. He was upset by how quickly he'd been outnumbered, but the boys had plied him with the promise of violence on ice, and that was enough to sooth the betrayal, at least a little.
Which is how he finds himself here, smushed between Chrissy and Gareth and not really as engaged as he should be, watching a bunch of men run around on the ice - sometimes literally, which is crazy. There has been a little violence though, so that's something at least.
Eddie blinks when Chrissy hands him a small dry erase board and a couple of markers that she pull from her bag. "What's this for?"
"You're famous, Eddie. The arena staff knows we're here, which means we're probably going to be on camera. I figured you could entertain yourself with some appropriate messages. Appropriate," she reiterates, and Eddie grabs at his chest like he's been shot.
"You wound me! As if I would ever deign to flash the cameras with a message that's anything less than the pinnacle of wholesome!"
Chrissy rolls her eyes but smiles - ever used to his dramatics by now - and just turns back to the game. Right, sometimes it's easy to forget that Chrissy is actually a sports person.
Eddie gets to work on his first message, not entirely sure when they're going to be the focus of the large screen above them. Chrissy glances over to see what he's writing and just sighs, and Eddie can't bite back his grin.
It's actually not too long before the announcer mentions something that isn't related to the game, and then-
"With nearly twelve million monthly listeners on Spotify, please welcome local metal band, Corroded Coffin!"
Eddie looks up to see their faces on the screen and grins as he turns his board around, showing off the LOOKIN 4 HUSBAND he's written in block letters. There's a mix of cheers and laughter from the crowd, and Eddie can't help but give a joking wink to the camera before he's laughing as well.
Chrissy smacks him on the arm and says "I can't believe you," but she's smiling as well. Eddie just shrugs and cleans the message from the whiteboard, freeing up space for him to doodle in between catching glances at the game.
It's a little bit later when a big fight breaks out, and a few players from each team are sent to the- box? The box. Eddie watches the big screen as the camera follows one of the players, tracking the man as he steps inside the little booth and rips his helmet off in frustration and- holy shit.
The guy is fucking stunning; his jaw, his nose, his sweat-damp hair and the beauty marks scattered across his skin like stars. Eddie wants to get closer, wants to know the color of his eyes and smooth the crease between his brows, wants to shove his fingers into that pretty, pink mouth-
And then the camera changes, going back to the players on the ice, and Eddie blinks like he's been released from a spell. He turns to Chrissy, one hand grabbing at her arm as he says "Who the fuck was that guy?"
Chrissy glances at him but keeps most of her attention on the game. "Harrington? He's literally the captain of our team, Eddie. I know you're not super into this, but that's kind of a hard thing to miss."
The man huffs a little as he releases Chrissy's arm. "I know literally jack-shit about this game, Chrissy, nothing is hard to miss."
Eddie takes the chance to re-write his white board before turning it to face outward, hoping that some cameraman will take pity on him and put him back on screen. He's not sure how long Harrington has in what is essentially timeout, but Eddie keeps his eyes on him all the same, glad that they're actually not too far away from the box.
It's a couple of minutes later when the announcer says "Looks like our friends Corroded Coffin have another message, this time for team captain Steve Harrington," and Eddie doesn't need to look to know that the screen is showing his new sign: #14 U R PRETTY. DATE?
He sees Harrington - Steve - look up, and watches as the frustration melts from his face, only for the prettiest pink blush to spread across his cheeks and ears. The guy laughs - and christ, Eddie didn't think he could get any more beautiful, but here he is - and doesn't hesitate to nod, even makes a little call me motion like he knows Eddie's watching him.
Eddie beams and nods back, laughs when the other player in the box shoves Steve playfully and makes a comment that deepens the blush on his face. He gets a couple of shoves and smacks from his own friends and a bewildered "I can't believe you just did that!" from Gareth.
Chrissy leans into him as he cleans the board again. "Hockey's not so boring now, is it?" she says, and Eddie can't help but agree, his eyes never leaving the ice - leaving Steve - for the rest of the game.
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cuntyji · 20 days ago
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everyone’s talking about nerd gojo (thank you @to00fu for the meal), but what about nerd nanami? and i’m not talking about just any nerd nanami, im talking about letterboxd nerd! nanami — 
who wears a “directed by quentin tarantino” tshirt under his suit because he's a bit embarassed about unironically liking this type of merch, and who actually reads through all the letterboxd published articles from cover to cover.
his profile is so organised and he leaves such beautifully written and critical reviews that people who read it go crazy and spam the review’s comments section with “who is this diva 😭” and “WHO LET BRO COOK 🗣️” (he doesn’t understand the meaning of these phrases, but yuuji told him they’re positive phrases so he lets them be).
he's very selective about who he follows — a few of his irl's do know he's on letterboxd, but when they ask him for his profile he does not bother entertaining them. it's not that he's ashamed of his profile or taste, he just likes to keep his irl's seperate from his online activity. 
letterboxd nerd! nanami is heavily against piracy, and he refuses to opt for the “easy way out” when it comes to watching regional films. (he once took a flight all the way to paris on a weekday just to watch a movie that hadn't started international screening).
not to mention, he has a lot of friends that are directors, producers, script-writers, actors etc…it's not even a flex, he was genuinely the most supportive figure in their lives when they were starting out, and often times he gets free tickets or VIP passes to special movie screenings as a way of thanks.
letterboxd nerd! nanami is always one of the top three or five reviews in most trending movies on letterboxd, but imagine his horror when casual letterboxd user! reader bests his review and pushes him down to seventh place.
the horror.
and it's not even a “good” review, as nanami says —  it's just a rant about how hot the cast is. and for some outrageous reason, everyone seems to be upvoting your poorly written review instead of his meticulously detailed review about the script writing, acting, soundtrack, camera angles…you get what i mean. 
naturally, letterboxd nerd! nanami is pissed. 
and he's even more so when he realizes that casual letterboxd user! reader doesn't even log films on the daily — no, it seems more like you just remember this app exists and then log in whatever you just watched. you didn't even bother putting up a profile picture up until yesterday. and why the hell have you rated most of the disney movies a 5/5? do you not know what an objective rating is? 
letterboxd nerd! nanami, after stalking your watched list, prays you never come online to log your films again. he can't afford to be bested by you again. until he sees a notification that makes him groan out loud in annoyance — 
y/ncore has started following you.
bonus: nerd gojo and letterboxd nerd! nanami are mutuals and close friends on letterboxd (under aliases of course), but both of them hate each other irl — nerd gojo mocks him for spending time on “lame” things like movies, while letterboxd nerd! nanami scoffs at his blatant attitude of “not appreciating cinema.”
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kidsinnowadays · 1 year ago
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How to Master the Art of Screen Time: 5 Mind-Blowing Hacks to Keep Your Kids
Discover innovative techniques to strike a healthy balance in your children's screen time, ensuring both technology engagement and real-world experiences. #ScreenTimeBalance #ParentingHacks #TechAwareness #ChildDevelopment
Navigating the Digital Age In today’s digital age, screens have become an integral part of our lives, and our children are growing up in a world where smartphones, tablets, and computers are the norm. While technology offers many benefits, it also poses challenges, especially when it comes to managing screen time for our kids. As parents, we strive to find the right balance between harnessing…
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kids-worldfun · 6 months ago
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The Joy of Jigsaw Puzzles for Kids
Jigsaw puzzles have long been a beloved pastime for children, offering both entertainment and educational benefits in a single package. These seemingly simple activities provide a multitude of developmental advantages that contribute to a child’s growth and learning. From enhancing cognitive skills to fostering patience and perseverance, jigsaw puzzles are more than just a fun distraction—they’re…
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rafey-baby · 4 months ago
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what would sensitive!reader do without older!rafe protecting her from the invisible monsters in their home?
18+ mdni!
c/w: mostly fluff, her being scared & rafe comforting her while also being a menace, teeny tiny bit of angst regarding their age gap, use of daddy (once)
wc: 1.7k
unfortunately won’t be watching a single scary movie this halloween cause she’s literally me but happy kinktober & spooky season xx
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She’s not exactly sure why she agreed to watch the new horror film Rafe’s friends wanted to see at a Halloween themed gathering he’d dragged her into. She wasn’t even the biggest fan of his friends, which is why she didn’t want to go in the first place.
However, when he’d mumbled a honeyed ‘it’s no fun without you ‘n don’t wanna leave my girl alone on Halloween’ into her hair, she’d reluctantly agreed; not one to refuse him of anything when he looked at her with that specific softened blue coloring his eyes.
And there was also the prospect of making him happy that finally made her melt into his wishes. 
And she wanted to like his friends, she really did. But it wasn’t exactly easy when they kept bragging about their accomplishments and how much money they had every opportunity they found in such an arrogant tone, it made her roll her eyes when they weren’t looking. �� 
Luckily, she could at least converse with their partners who were always fun company to sip wine with and giggle about anything and everything. And along with the warmth of Rafe’s gaze flickering over to her every once in a while, as he talked with his friends and coworkers, she was actually beginning to enjoy herself.  
Up until the point when someone suggested they watch a movie.  
“You sure you wanna watch this? S’okay if you wanna go home, could come up with somethin’ else to keep us entertained…” Rafe had murmured into her ear with his arms around her on the couch the whole group had settled down on.  
He knew how paranoid she could get; how easily she’d turn into a scaredy cat who once couldn’t sleep alone for a month after sitting through an entire scary movie in the cinema.   
And she truly doesn’t know why she didn’t just tell him she wanted to leave when the film started playing on the big screen of Topper’s television. She was going to, but when her eyes flitted over to him bringing a glass of whiskey to his lips in a carefree manner; she didn’t have the heart to ruin his fun because he seemed to be enjoying himself. After all, it wasn’t often he let himself relax due to his hectic work schedule packed with tedious meetings and whatnot.   
And on top of that, she’s already self-conscious over the age-gap between her and Rafe; sometimes gets a headache over the notion of him meeting someone more mature one dreadful day and deciding he doesn’t want to play house with her any longer.  
After all, his friends were all getting engaged left and right, while she still holds the title of being his girlfriend. And even if she isn’t sure she’d be ready for marriage quite yet, she’s still slightly upset that he’s never even so much as mentioned the matter.  
And she's not sure if it's because she's younger than him and he assumes she doesn't want a ring on her finger too soon or if he simply just doesn't want to make things too definitive with her.  
Nonetheless, it's something she's been thoroughly overthinking and mulling over recently, even if she knows it doesn't benefit her in any shape or form. Apparently, her mind just likes to always have some topic to ruminate over and obsessively worry about, or else it'll have too much free time.  
Therefore, she can admit that she didn’t want to appear as a big baby who couldn’t stomach anything even remotely scary (she really couldn’t). And was it such a crime to not want to make a scene in front of all his friends?  
That’s why she ends up meekly nodding her head and assuring him she was fine — which he didn’t entirely believe — but smiled nonetheless at the fact that she was willing to get out of her comfort zone for his sake, before pulling her closer to his side.   
However, when the white letters of the end credits finally rolled after a few gruesome and eerie hours later, she was anything but fine.  
Her weakened frame is trembling and she’s entirely too jumpy even after they’ve said their goodbyes and stepped past the threshold into the safe haven of their home.   
“Told you we should’ve just left,” he tuts when she flinches when the October wind rustles the leafy foliage outside the window.   
“Rafe, what was that?” she squeaks out when she hears another sound coming from outside — presumably their neighbor — however, there’s always the possibility of it being a serial killer simply waiting for the right moment to pounce.   
“What was what?” he huffs out a chuckle in amusement, causing her to pout.   
“This isn’t funny. I’m scared,” she whines, heart beating faster than ever along with her breathing unsteady.  
“I know you are. Shit, forgot why I don’t let you watch scary movies,” he shakes his head, padding over to the kitchen to fill up a glass of water; her feet immediately running after him.   
“Hey, hey, m’right here, yeah?” he laughs tenderly when she practically glues herself to his big and comforting arm with how tightly she’s hugging it against her chest.   
“Promise you’re not gonna leave me alone?” she blinks up at him with her pupils dilated, nervous.  
“It’s past midnight. Of course, m’not leaving, m’exhausted. Let’s get ready for bed, yeah?” he suggests calmly, managing to placate her some with his appeasing presence. Although the spine-chilling scenes still play behind her eyelids with every blink.  
She follows him to the bathroom and he tries not to laugh when she insists on staying there even while he’s peeing.   
“Want me to check under the bed for monsters?” his sickly-sweet tone is a stark contrast to the annoying smirk plastered on his face when they pad over to their bedroom after brushing their teeth.  
“Ray…I’m being serious,” she scowls.  
“So am I?” he feigns confusion with a furrow of his brows.  
Before she has the chance to complain about him being mean, he’s already crouching down on the floor and poking his head under the bed into the darkness he’s braved himself to submerge into. And she’s far too curious not to peer down as well, however, she can’t really see a thing from behind his broad shoulders.   
Suddenly, he lets out a loud gasp — making her jump back and nearly trip on her feet — before his breathy giggle follows soon after.  
“That’s not funny,” she grumbles as exasperation drags her lips downwards.  
“I’m sorry, baby. You jus’ make it so easy,” he approaches her with an apologetic expression that doesn’t come off as all that empathetic when he’s fighting off an amused grin the entire time.   
“C’mere, yeah?” he coaxes before tugging her into his strong arms; not letting go even when she tries to pull away since she’s still mad at him.   
“This one really got to you, huh?” he murmurs into her hair before beginning to soothingly rock back and forth when she finally halts her pursuits of escape.   
A faint hum is the only response she grants him.   
“Think the last time you were this scared was when we went to that haunted house with your friends last year, remember?” his warm chest rumbles in a pacifying manner in tandem with his words.   
“How could I forget,” she huffs out.   
“Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t wanna watch it? I wouldn’t have cared if we left,” he speaks softly.   
“I don’t know…just didn’t wanna seem like a baby in front of your friends,” she sniffles.   
“Since when do you care what they think? You hate them,” he argues with a lopsided smile when he releases his hold on her in order to unzip his jeans and change into something more comfortable for the night.   
“Hate is a strong word,” she defends herself as she pulls one of Rafe’s old t-shirts over her head and tries to focus on his familiar scent still lingering on the worn-out fabric instead of the imaginary monsters lurking behind the windows.   
“Is it?” he graces her with a lighthearted narrow of his eyes.   
“Fine. I don’t like them but they’re your friends, which means that I want them to like me,” she mumbles out.   
“Don’t really give a shit if they like you or not, which they obviously do. Think a little too much since you can’t help but be the sweetest angel even to the people you hate,” he grumbles out as he walks over to close the bedroom door.   
“And honestly, would much rather just stay with you than those pretentious idiots. Next time you wanna go home, just tell me. Don’t want you lyin’ to me, okay?” he says with something sincere sparkling in the lagoons of his eyes.   
“Okay,” she promises when suddenly, he switches the lights off with a click, causing her muscles to tense.   
“Ray, why would you do that?” she sounds alarmed; inhales and exhales growing labored because the bedroom is now pitch black and there could be anything hiding in the murky corners of the room since she can’t even see herself.   
“Shh, calm down. I’ll protect you, yeah?” he croons, before he’s guiding her under the covers with a big hand on the small of her back; following shortly behind her and tugging her flush against his steady chest.  
“You’re safe with me. Daddy’s not gonna let anything happen to you, alright?” his saccharine murmurs reach her racing mind and offer it momentary rest on the soft petals of his tranquil voice.   
She hums against the skin of his neck as her eyes begin to slowly adjust to the darkness surrounding them; the dingy shadows crawling along the walls appearing less and less threatening by the second when she’s in the warmth of his protective embrace.   
“Want your stuffie?” he asks, knowing her all too well.   
“Mhm,” she nods against him before he’s reaching a hand behind the pillows because somehow her stuffed animal always manages to end up in the most peculiar of places. At this point though, he already knows where to look since he’s usually the one who has to locate it for her. 
Nowadays, she doesn’t need it too often since she has Rafe volunteering to be her own personal teddy bear, but whenever he’s working past midnight, she likes to hold onto something that brings her comfort because she isn’t particularly fond of the idea of sleeping alone.  
He soon offers her the plushy lamb and she gives him a grateful smooch against his cheek along with a muffled ‘I love you’.   
And that night, he lulls her into dreamland with a warm palm resting on her tummy and his mellow breathing placating her distraught mind. 
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wanders-in-wonderland · 5 months ago
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Smile for the Camera
It’s 10pm sharp when I start my stream. I’ve always been on time, always with my makeup on flawlessly, hair styled perfectly, and bedroom set curated just right to show my pretty pink sheets and collection of toys.
I smile and wave at the camera, tossing my hair back to reveal the pink lingerie set I’ve chosen for tonight.
“Good evening everyone! I’m sooo glad to see so many of you tuning in!”
The chat inbox floods with greetings from my audience and there’s an influx of money that comes from my particularly generous viewers. I giggle and flirt with my viewers, many of whom who have become regulars in my viewership population.
Someone in the audience asks for a strip tease and I feel my pussy pulse in response, looking forward to a night of performing for my devoted viewers.
I start slow, running my fingers up and down my body, brushing gently over my lingerie-clad nipples and whimpering loudly for the microphone to pick up. My eyes stare into the camera, all of my thoughts melting away as I fall into my role of entertainer.
Teasingly, I pull along the shoulder straps of my top, letting the fabric fall away from my chest to show off my perky tits and hardened nipples that are always a fan favorite. My hands dance over my chest, pulling gently at my nipples in a way that makes my moans completely genuine. My eyes glance to the screen and I see the excitement building in my chat box, and my account balance steadily rising.
Suddenly, I hear the lock on my door click and my body goes cold. The door to my room is out of the video shot, behind my camera setup and before I can even react, the door slams open.
I let out a startled yelp as my arms instinctively cover my chest. In the corner of my eye, I see the chat go crazy as my audience tries to figure out what it is they’re hearing but not seeing off screen. My attention is wholly focused on the man whose frame fills my doorway.
I scramble off my bed. “What the fuck? Why are you in my house?” My voice is shaking with fear and shrill with panic. I’m far too preoccupied to even think about the livestream anymore.
My fear deepens when I see him leer at me and stalk through my door and towards me without any hesitation.
“A fucking whore like you should be more gracious to me,” he says, his eyes taking on a dangerous glint. He and I are both in the camera’s view now and the viewers on my stream are firing off more messages than before, speculating over who he is and what is going on.
Without saying anything else, he moves to me faster than I can evade and grabs my hair. My mouth opens to scream but before sound can escape, he throws me chest down onto my bed. The air is forced out of my lungs and for a moment, I’m still and stunned. The next moment, he’s on me.
His hand is buried in my hair, keeping my face pressed down against the bed while he forces my ass up into the air. I struggle uselessly against him, unable to push up off the bed or move myself away from his ironclad grip. My cries are muffled against my bed and I want to scream and yell for help but there’s not enough air in my lungs.
His free hand lands a sharp slap against my ass that make me jolt forwards and arch my back further in pain. He doesn’t give me time to adjust as he begins to land blow after blow. My arms begin to flail, fingers scrambling for something to hold onto as I struggle.
“Stop fucking moving, whore,” he growls at me. I feel the spanks subside for a moment and I can feel my ass burning red and throbbing from the pain. My head spins from the abuse and the lack of oxygen. I feel his large hand find my wrist, his fingers locking around me in a bruising hold as he yanks my arm behind my back, straining my shoulder.
The hand on my head finally comes away and I raise my head just enough to gasp in much-needed oxygen. In that split second, he’d grabbed and secured my other arm behind my back as well, his one hand effortless holding my arms crossed behind my back. My body is still bent over, knees on the bed and ass up in the air. My only saving grace is that I can raise my head enough to breathe and glance at my laptop, showing the livestream still ongoing.
My eyes dart across the screen, reading messages as fast as I can. None of them show any concern for me, in fact, a vast majority are discussing how much they wished they were the ones holding my body down in this moment.
“Fuck yes, show that whore her place.”
“God, what would I do to be there to punish her for always teasing us.”
“I bet her cunt is dripping wet right now.”
I whine softly when I see that message because it’s right. “Please, let me go!” I turn my head to look at the menace of a man behind me. He flashes a dark grin at me, “Not until I fuck you out of your whore mind.”
His words echo in my head and panic rises within me. “Please! No! Stop! Someone help me!” I make eye contact with the camera, begging at its cold, dark lens.
He laughs behind me. “There’s no one here to help you, whore. You and I both know that every single person watching behind their computer screen is more than eager to see your whore body get ruined.”
As he speaks, his free hand pulls his belt and pants undone enough for him to pull his massive cock out. I let out a choked gasp when I see it.
“Wait, no, please, you’re too big, it’s not going to fit! Please!” My voice shakes and I start to struggle harder against him. His body dwarfs mine and I watch through the camera as he rips my panties off, the sound of tearing fabric filling the room.
“Shut the fuck up and take it, whore.” I feel the head of his cock brush against my dripping slit and my eyes widen.
“Wait, please-” My begging ends in a wail as he slams himself into me to the hilt. The painful stretch makes tears spring into my eyes but unimaginable pleasure quickly follows as his cock nudges into every sensitive spot inside of me. He doesn’t give me time to adjust as he begins to rut into me mercilessly.
Every thrust makes my body shake with pain-tinged pleasure and pathetic moans are spilling out of my mouth as my eyes roll upwards. My hazy vision catches a glimpse of us on the camera. I look like a rag doll, back arched, ass in the air, and shuddering as he towers over me, his cock sinking into my cunt.
Every thrust is accompanied by the squelch of my wetness and the sound of our bodies slamming into each other. The bed creaks under us as his body moves like a machine, drilling into me. “Fuck, you tight fucking whore, your pussy was made for me huh?”
His voice is guttural. Suddenly, he grips my upper arms and yanks me upwards. His other hand comes around to grip my throat as he traps me against his front. The new angle makes his cock stab even deeper into me, forcing a cry from my lips.
“Look at the fucking camera, whore. Show them what a fucked out little slut you are. Go ahead, smile for the camera.” His thrusts seem to come even faster now.
I have tears falling from my eyes as my face reddens from his constricting grip around my neck.
“Smile or I choke you out on my cock like this,” he snarls, hips never stuttering in their punishing pace. I let out a muffled groan and try my best to focus myself enough to obey.
I stare through half-lidded eyes at the camera, barely coherent. My lips pull up in a small, desperate smile as I feel myself gradually running out of air.
“Good fucking whore. Now tell them how much you like having your whore cunt fucked.” His hand leaves my throat and goes to pinch my clit harshly, making me squeal.
“Ah- I like having, ah-, my whore cunt fucked!” My voice is hoarse, my orgasm fast approaching as he starts to roughly roll my clit between his fingers.
“That’s right, and you’re going to cum like this aren’t you, whore? Come on, cum all over me, show them how much you love this.” His words combined with the brutal assault on my body push me over the edge and with a desperate wail, I fall apart.
I hear him groan lowly behind me as my pussy clenches around him, my orgasm ripping through my senses. He uses my body harder than ever, treating me like a sex toy as he chases his own release. He slams himself into me one final time as he erupts, his grip bruising my arms as he keeps me in place.
I collapse against him, a boneless, overstimulated mess. He lets me down gently onto the bed, pulling out of me. The sound of his cock squelching out of my pussy makes my viewers more than aware of how well-fucked I am. He steps away from the bed and towards my filming setup. He leans into the camera and smirks.
“Let me know how else you want to see this whore fucked. If your idea is good, maybe I’ll let you come and enjoy her too.” With that, he shuts the camera off and closes out of the streaming site.
My body is still limp on the bed. I feel him settle next to me and pull me close before brushing my hair away from my forehead and kissing my nose.
“Do you think they liked me?” His murmurs.
“They loved you,” I say, breathless and drowsy from what we just did.
“I hope so, I wouldn’t want my debut on your stream to make a bad first impression,” he says, frowning down at me a little. It makes me let out a soft laugh.
I tilt my head up to kiss his jawline, “Only you would fuck the life out of me on livestream and then worry that you did a bad job.”
I giggle again and he grumbles back at me, “Shut up and sleep, I’ll clean up.” His kiss on my forehead is the last thing I remember before drifting off to sleep.
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teapartyprincess4two · 6 months ago
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On Stream- M. Sturniolo
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pairing: gf!reader x bf!Matt
classification: fluff
warnings: use of y/n, short, slight cursing, some suggestive comments
summary: Matt mentions you on stream, causing the chat to go crazy.
Nowadays it seems that Matt and Chris have an abnormal amount of free time.
The pair have spent the past few days running errands, catching up on chores, spending quality time together, and unwinding. But two energetic young men can only do so much relaxing before it becomes unbearably boring, especially without you and Nick around.
Nick’s somewhere across the globe, relishing in the perks of having good friends. He’s experiencing the world with a sense of individuality, having been apart from his triplet brothers for over a week.
Without Nick around the house is quiet and boring enough, but Chris and Matt can usually count on you to keep them company. But it seems that they see you less and less every day.
You aren’t somewhere far away, not physically at least, you’re just very, very busy. As you enter the fall semester, you’re juggling a multitude of responsibilities including school, work, your social life, and your relationship. But as you adjust to your crazy hectic schedule, you spend less time at home with Matt and more time nose deep in a book.
So, just as the brothers grow accustomed to the eerie silence that haunts the halls of their home and the boredom that settles into their everyday lives, they decide enough is enough and take up a new hobby. Streaming.
Today, as Matt anchors himself in his rolling chair, his eyes skim through the endless chats that flood his screen. Chris sits next to him, a vibrant and excited smile adorning his features.
This is their third consecutive day going live on Twitch. At first they went live to entertain and chat with their fans, but now they’re doing it to occupy their bored minds.
Chris’s eyes skim the chat, fixating on one message in particular. He subconsciously reads it aloud, “Is Y/n on tour with Nick? We miss her.”
After reading the comment, the chat was flooded with similar messages asking for you. Matt slumps into his chair, the mention of your name reminding him that it’s been a week since he’s seen you.
“Nah, she’s just busy with school right now,” Chris replies mindlessly, skimming for another comment to read.
A lot of the viewers noticed Matt’s mood shift. They noticed the way his eyes drooped and the way the corners of his mouth turned into a frown. They especially noticed the disassociated look he wore, mind traveling to a place only you could bring him out of.
“Matt,” Chris says, waving a hand in front of his brother’s face. No response. “Matt!” He tries again, louder this time. Matt still doesn’t respond, only coming back into reality when Chris violently shakes his shoulders.
“What, dude? What?!” Matt asks, annoyance evident in his tone.
“Your phone’s ringing.” Chris replies with an eye roll and a small scoff.
Suddenly the blaring ring registers in Matt’s mind as he pats his pockets in search of his phone. When he finally finds it, your name illuminated the screen.
“Who’s calling?” Chris asks, stretching out his neck in hopes of catching a nosy glimpse at the caller ID.
“Umm be right back chat. Y/n’s calling,” Matt says, words spewing out a mile a minute. He disappears from the room faster than ever, immediately pressing the phone to his ear.
“Hello?”
“Hey, baby.” Your voice is music to Matt’s ears. It feels like forever since he’s last heard it.
“Hey,” he murmurs, “everything okay?”
You hum in response, followed by a soft yawn.
“You sound tired. When are you coming home?” Matt asks, softly leaning against the wall. You’ve been at school all day stuck in lectures and studying, so Matt knows you need some well deserved rest.
“I’m on my way now. That’s why I called, wanted to see if you guys were hungry so I could pick up something to eat.”
The excitement that courses through Matt’s veins is unreal, winding him up with enough energy to last until tomorrow. He can’t wait to see you, hold you, kiss you, and make up for all the lost time.
“Whatever you want, baby,” he replies, pausing for a second to compose himself, “I just wanna see you.”
A warm smile graces your features and if Matt could see it he’d mirror your expression.
“I’ll be home soon don’t worry. How’s the stream going?”
“Huh?” For a second Matt forgot that he and his brother were live streaming for thousands of people.
“The stream. Aren’t you live with Chris right now?”
“Ohhh. It’s going… it’s going good.” Matt replies with a soft sigh.
Your smile is momentarily replaced with a frown. “It doesn’t sound like it’s going good. What’s wrong?”
Matt’s fingers pinch the bridge of his nose before gliding across his eyelids and massaging the tense nerves and muscles on his face. “It’s going fine. I just can’t focus. The chat keeps asking about you and it’s honestly making me really sad.”
A small chuckle escapes your lips. “Aww my poor baby. Can’t focus on Fortnite?”
“Not Fortnite.”
“Oops, sorry. Fall Guys?
“Y/n.” Matt warns, though he finds it slightly funny too.
“I’m joking, I’m joking. I’ll be home soon with some good food and open arms. We can cuddle and watch a movie, or do anything else you wanna do. Okay?”
Matt feels his spirit lighten up again, a cheeky smirk forming on his face. “Anything?”
“Don’t push it,” you laugh.
Just as Matt’s about to respond, he’s cut short by Chris calling his name from inside the room.
“Get back to your stream. I’ll be home soon, handsome.”
Matt’s lips form a silly pout you can’t even see as he replies, “But I wanna keep talking to you. Miss you so much.”
“MATT!” Chris calls again, this time much louder than the last.
“We’ll talk all you want when I get home. Now go! I have the stream pulled up on my computer and I think Chris is gonna start twerking,” you say, trying your best not to laugh.
“Holy fuck this kid,” Matt groans, face palming. “Alright baby, I love you. Drive safe.”
“I love you too,” you say through small giggles before hanging up.
When Matt renters the room, he’s not surprised to find Chris dancing for the camera. He pushes past him and settles back into his rolling chair wearing a huge, toothy smile.
“What did Y/n want?” Chris asks, briefly glancing at Matt as he switches from doing the griddy to shuffling across the room.
“Just asked if we were hungry,” Matt shrugs, attempting to act nonchalant, but there’s no hiding the newfound pep in his step.
“And it took you that long?”
“I was catching up with my girl. —Why the fuck are you still dancing?”
“Someone gifted,” Chris says, slightly breathless as he bops from corner to corner.
“Alright…” Matt shifts towards the computer, “What did I miss?”
He reads comments, expecting most of them to be about Chris and his absurd dancing skills, but he’s surprised to find that they’re all about you.
Some fans ask where you are, others ask what you’re doing, some speculate on the conversation you and Matt had, and others simply comment on how much happier Matt seems since talking to you.
All Matt can do is smile and patiently wait for you to arrive, ready to bombard you with kisses as soon as you step through the door.
MASTERLIST
a/n: hi babies! Hope you enjoy this short oneshot! I know I haven’t updated or posted much in a longggg time but I honestly had writers block :P I’m trying to get into the habit of writing again, so bear with me pls. I have a lotttt of drafts (some that just need to be edited) so be expecting that soon! Luv you all 😚
- L.A.M.B🪽💝
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