#and now motions to reply

[crossbackpoke-check]

the deweys photos are from this video: https://youtu.be/5xTwJho44ao?si=bPw8MZZ327lCogVZ aren’t they just everything

kissing you and the minnesota wild official media team (with consent) full on the mouth, THANK YOU THIS VIDEO IS EVERYTHING 🥰🥰 i have seen pieces of it before i think (connor petting a shark 🥹) but the entire video start to finish is such a delight, 10/10 would recommend

[acerikus]

Someone being extremely annoying in the replies of my flowey and clover gif and I'm running out of patience 😭

[maddy-ferguson]

i saw someone say they were hoping noah would apologize and it's just kinda fascinating to me...if he thought zionism was sexy on monday (or i guess on sunday probably and for many days and weeks before that) why would he suddenly think it's an awful ideology on friday?

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[mechahero]

//me when i say that it shouldn’t matter what control scheme people use when they play splat.oon and constantly shitting on people for using sticks instead of motion controls and badgering them to use motion is rude and that people simply might prefer one control scheme to another for a multitude of reasons and it’s no one else’s business but their own and i get people coming from nowhere to tell me that motion controls are the better option while ignoring literally everything else ive said

[rileyslibrary]

After suffering a gunshot wound, you wake up in a hospital bed with Ghost sitting by your side. Unfortunately, the effects of anaesthesia leave you unable to recognise him and, worse, confuse him with someone else.

A/N: Fluff. Based on a request I received a while ago. Hope you like it, anon!

———————————————————————

A machine on your left beeps rhythmically. The taste of something metallic lingers in your mouth, and the iodine smell stinks your nostrils. Your eyes open slowly, but the bright ceiling light forces them shut again. You lick your lips and attempt to swallow a couple of times. Dry. Your mouth is dry. You need water. Your hand moves towards your face, but a low, raspy voice advises you against it.

“Careful now,” it says, and a hand gently grabs your wrist. “Don’t pull the IV off.”

You turn your head towards the figure beside you and squint. It’s a man, but your blurry vision doesn’t help you identify him. Your eyes travel to your wrist and focus on the closest part of him: a skeleton’s hand.

You try to shake your hand off his grip, but it turns out futile. Frustrated, you give up and raise your middle finger at him.

“Not my time yet,” you declare. “Fuck off.”

“Pardon?” he asks.

“Not ready to go yet,” you reply, tucking your middle finger in your palm and lifting it back up again. “And also, fuck off.”

The man releases your wrist, placing your hand gently beside you. He clears his throat and leans forward. Though your vision remains blurry, you spot what looks like a human skull with a hood over it.

“How are you feeling, love?” he asks, his tone softer.

“How am I feeling, love?” you repeat. “Did Hell improve their customer service?”

“I’m not-” The man begins but pauses. He sighs, shakes his head and rests his elbows on his thighs. “Never mind.”

“Where am I?” You ask.

“Hospital.” He replies. “You took a bullet.”

Directing your attention to your body, you feel a dull throb in your chest. You wince as your fingers brush against the bandages.

“You are joking.” You reply and slap your hand on the bed. “Why? How?”

“Well,” He says and tilts his head to the side. “You exchanged a few shots with the enemy, your gun ran out of bullets, his didn’t, and here we are.”

“My gun?” You ask, shocked. “I have a gun?”

“Several.” He nods.

“SEVERAL?” You shout. “Why would I possibly need several guns?”

“It’s your job, love.” He replies.

“My job is to have several guns?” you ask. “And shooting at people?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way,” he explains, “but it’s mainly for defence.”

“Well,” you shrug and wince at the pain. “Doesn’t look like I’m that good at defence—especially for having several guns.”

“I was really worr—”

“Water,” you interrupt and gesture at your mouth. “I need water.”

“Doctor said it’s not the time for water yet,” he replies.

“Why?” you ask, pretending to check a non-existent wristwatch. “What time is it?”

“No, love,” he replies and muffles a chuckle. “Doctor said you need to wait until you have some water.”

“You throw the ‘love’ thing a little too freely,” you mumble, licking your lips and lifting your index finger. “I’d be really careful if I were you.”

“Really?” he asks, leaning back into the chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Why?”

“I,” you say and point at yourself, “got a boyfriend, thank you very much.”

“Oh,” he exclaims and tilts his head. “Is that so.”

“Yup,” you nod. “And he can kill you.”

“Can he?”

“Can?” You say, and a smug smile forms on your dry lips. “He will absolutely, one hundred and a thousand per cent kill you.”

“Is he that good?” He asks.

“I mean,” you shrug, motioning at the bandages on your chest. “He’s much better than I am.”

“Oh wow,” he exclaims and leans forward. “Is he as good of a boyfriend as he is a shooter?”

“Far from it,” you reply, letting your hand fall to your side.

The man doesn’t speak. He doesn’t seem that comfortable all of a sudden. He shuffles in his chair, trying to find a better position, and when he does, he clasps his hands together.

“Go on,” he finally says. “Spill it.”

“Ok, so,” you begin, “first things first, he doesn’t listen to me when I want to vent, and whenever he does, all he says is nonsense.”

“The lad gives you solutions,” he snaps, “and you call them nonsense?”

“I don’t want solutions, man,” you reply, shaking your head. “I want him to just listen to me.”

“Even if the solutions he provides are literally the answers to your suffering?”

“Even then.” You confirm.

“Gotcha,” he nods. “What else?”

“Oof,” you sigh, “how much time do you have?”

“I’m immortal,” he reminds you, “plus the next reaping is in five hours.”

“Oh boy,” you reply. “Business not going that well lately, huh?”

“Not many deaths to take care of,” he spits. “I guess some people could use some serious training when it comes to their aim.”

“Speaking of training,” you say, “he’s always at work and never spends much time with me.”

“The guy’s trying to spend as much time with you as he can, for fucks sake!” he shouts, throwing his hands up. “He even lied to get you on his team!”

“How do you know he put me on his team?” You ask.

“I keep a close eye on him.” He replies.

“What did he lie about?”

“Your precision in aiming,” he jokes and motions for you to continue. “Next one.”

“I can’t think of anything else,” you reply. “Other than he doesn’t say how much he loves me.”

“You’re having a laugh now, aren’t you?” He says, and his tone feels almost threatening. “He’s showing it to you daily; offering advice, keeping you close to him, even risking the possibility of being accused of nepotism for crying out loud! He doesn’t need to say it as well for you to know it!”

“It’s just nice to hear it sometimes,” you sigh and twist a thread from the bed sheet. You turn your head slightly toward him, and he lowers his head to the ground.

“How about you?” You ask. “You have a girlfriend?”

“I do,” he confirms.

“Shut up!” You shout, widening your eyes and immediately closing them back again. “Where did you guys meet?”

“Hell,” he replies. “Right in the pits of it.”

“How is she?” You ask.

“Perfect.” He states.

“Bullshit,” you murmur. “No one’s perfect.”

“She is to me.” He says, shrugging.

“Do you love her?” You ask.

“Absolutely,” he replies, nodding slowly. “One hundred and a thousand per cent I do.”

———————————————————————

[noughticalcrossings]

Put thee not on Silent

[ID: A 4 panel comic made of digital paintings of a zoom meeting between the knights of the Round Table.

Sir Galahad, Queen Guinevere, Sir Gawain, Sir Lancelot, Sir Bedivere, have their own individual screens, and one screen shows a conference room with King Arthur, Sir Mordred, and others who are not named.

Both Sir Lancelot and Queen Guinevere have their cameras turned off, and microphones muted, the entire time.

Panel 1 shows King Arthur with a few of his knights, with Sir Mordred brooding beside him in shadows, and a hand reaching from offscreen to steal snacks from a bowl.

Sir Galahad has his microphone muted, and is in a forest, looking up and to the side. He has brown hair up above his head and very pale skin.

King Arthur asks, "Sir Gawain, canst thou see the PowerPoint slides?"

Panel 2 shows Sir Gawain, who has brown skin, black hair, green clothes, and heterochromia, with one green eye and one dark, replies, "Verily I cannot, I think it be a miasma of the sight."

Behind him for the background is a section from the Green Knight manuscript, showing faded lettering and a green knight on a green horse standing in front of someone with a large axe while a crowd of spectators watch from the sides.

Sir Galahad's screen is now slightly motion-blurred, showing a reddragon's open mouth in front of Sir Galahad's face.

Panel 3 shows Sir Bedivere, labeled Tech Support, who wears a blue shirt and a plumed knight's helm, looking exhaustedly into the camera, pushing his helmet visor up with one hand. He is lit by blue light and has bags under his eyes, asking: "Hast thou sharest the screen?"

His background is of a library. Sir Galahad's screen is now taken up by the motion-blurred side of the dragon that is attacking him.

Panel 4 shows Sir Gawain turned slightly to the side, looking derisively at the camera, saying: "Yea, but I cannot hear Sir Galahad."

The only thing left in Sir Galahad's screen is the motion-blurred, spade shaped tail tip of the dragon chasing him.

End ID.]

Description very kindly added by @describe-things

[queenpiranhadon]

"That's what you're going with?"

Nobara looks at Gojo skeptically, and her teacher blinks back at her, confused.

"...What?"

The brunette rolls her eyes, and motions in Gojo's general direction.

"Midnight Lotus, really?" she looks at him, disappointed. "It's clearly a Vanilla Cream day."

Sighing, she looks to Megumi for help. "It's like he wants to get divorced at this rate."

Satoru watches the interaction between the two, scandalized. He wants to what?!

"Now, now, Kugisaki, I'm offended you think so little of me! My wife loves me far too much to leave me over some cologne choice. Plus, Midnight Lotus smells awesome!"

Nobara looks at him scrutinizingly before lifting up her fingers to make two Ls as if to look at him through a frame.

"It's giving...paintbrush." She says, squinting disapprovingly, looking at Yuji for backup.

He nods sagely, replying with full seriousness. "He's low-key cooked if he thinks this is what's gonna seal the deal for him."

Satoru looks at them confused, already feeling old from his lack of understanding of their slang and yet he understood enough.

"Hey! You know she's my wife, right? The deal was sealed 7 years ago."

"I still question her judgement back then." Nobara mutters, eyeing her teacher's childish behavior. "But no matter! We're going out to buy you better stuff instead of the crap you wear."

Despite Satoru's protests, Nobara's dragging him out the classroom, leaving a oblivious Yuji to follow after them (he's just happy to be here) and a disgruntled and reluctant Megumi who trails behind the three (he is not happy to be here.)

Satoru does admit, his student's blatant insults towards his ability to be romantic does take a hit at his ego a bit, but he knows deep down he could get them to stop whenever he wants to (he doesn’t).

He can't help but feel his heart warm underneath all the complaints and groans, because he knows that they love him.

And they love you too.

Which is what Satoru tells himself while Nobara and Yuji drag him around the mall draining thousands of dollars from his wallet (it's okay, it's just pocket money).

He knows it'll be worth in it the end though, when he goes home to recount his day and hear that gorgeous laugh of yours.

God, he can't wait to have kids of your own some day

A/N: We all need a little more dad gojo in our lives

[toadtoru]

PLAY ME

contents: sukuna x f! reader, fluff, suggestive, pet names (baby, pretty girl), college/modern au

wordcount: 1k

Sukuna doesn’t usually go for women like you. He doesn’t necessarily have type, never has. Sukuna likes small women and big women, shy women and outgoing women. If he can get his dick wet he’s happy, really.

You’re different somehow. He’s not really sure why. Usually, he loses interest after a few days, but you’ve somehow kept his and he hasn’t even fucked you yet.

It all started when he saw you at that stuffy frat party weeks ago. You were laughing. Loudly. Your head was thrown back and the skin around your eyes crinkled and you looked exceptionally pretty right in that moment. Sukuna immediately stopped, because what the actual fuck?

Sukuna doesn’t find girls pretty. He finds them fuckable, or hot, maybe. He never finds them pretty.

That’s why he quickly walks past you into the kitchen, grabbing a vodka bottle from someone and roughly downing half of the bottle. He wakes up the next morning in some girl's bed and leaves before she wakes up.

This is where the fucking curse starts. Sukuna sees you everywhere now. He spots you on campus, he spots you at the cafe where Gojo forces him to study, he spots you at his favourite bar.

You’re always vibrant. You’re always smiling. You’re fucking annoying.

Which is why he wishes he wasn’t here right now. You’re at the other end of the table, on Nanami’s back. You peek out from behind the blonde’s shoulder, slightly pocking your tongue out as you aim for the cup on the table in front of him.

Gojo, who’s unfortunately Sukuna’s beer pong partner, and who’s also drunk out of his mind, is teasingly telling you how you can’t do it. You wink at him in return, and throw the ball, landing it perfectly in the cup.

You and Nanami immediately erupt into cheers as he spins you both around. His arms are hooked under your knees and you wrap your arms around his neck. Sukuna isn’t sure why he’s feeling so annoyed about this. He notices that Nanami seems more lively than usual. That only bothers him some more.

Gojo goes to drink the beer in the cup before Sukuna quickly grabs it and downs the contents. “Hey, I was going to drink that!” Gojo whines and Sukuna shoots him a glare.

“Fuck off, you’re wasted,” he states. He looks back at his opponents, only to find Haibara standing next to Nanami instead of you.

What the fuck?

He’s still not sure, but he excuses himself to the bathroom then, ignoring Gojo’s whines as he disappears into a flurry of sweaty bodies and yelling people. He doesn’t go to the bathroom. Instead, he finds you in the kitchen, sitting on the kitchen counter with a water bottle in your hand.

“You not gonna finish the game?” he asks and you look at him questioningly. “No, Haibara wanted to play,” you reply, before motioning to the water bottle.

“And I was thirsty,” you finish, before taking another sip of your water. Sukuna hums. He walks closer to you so that he’s standing between your legs and he smiles at you as your eyes slightly widen. His fingers drum over your thighs and you swallow your water before putting it aside.

“Your name is Sukuna, right?” you ask and he nods, pleased that his reputation precedes him. His hands are on your hips now, running up and down your sides.

“Yeah, what’s your name, baby?” he asks and you give him your name. You don’t go to stop his hands, although you fully know what kind of guy Sukuna is. Something about the way he looks at you intrigues you, enough to let him play his little game.

Sukuna repeats your name back to you as if he’s tasting the word. “Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he states and you raise your brows, a small scoff leaving your lips. Sukuna is taken aback for a second, surprised by your reaction. Your usual sunshine demeanour seems to have been reserved for other people.

“Okay,” you say, dragging out the syllables. “Listen, Sukuna,” he can’t help but think his name sounds so pretty on your lips. “Why don’t we skip the games and you tell me what you want?” you ask, slightly tilting your head to the side.

Sukuna isn’t really sure what happens next, but one thing is certain — you have him completely wrapped around your finger. You let him lead you to his apartment (and Sukuna never takes his hookups home, that is, until now) and before he can register anything, you are in his bed.

You’re stripped out of your pretty dress and left on his white sheets in a pretty lingerie set. Pink, he notices. That’s when he realizes he’s been played. He takes you in in all of your glory, eyes running over your curves.

It’s when he has you here, splayed out on his sheets, gasping into his ear that he realizes that he’s fucked. Like, utterly, completely, thoroughly fucked.

It isn’t even your body, although he enjoys that part very much. It’s the ways your eyes shine when you smile, how your lips look all kiss-bitten and red, how you hum in his ear and tell him he’s doing a good job.

Sukuna’s utterly weak in the knees. You’ve turned them into goo. You’ve turned him into goo. His brain is mushy, his fingers fumble. He dreads your reaction, dreads the frown on your face, but you’re all giggles and smiles, guiding him with such effortlessness.

And the next morning you’re gone.

Sukuna figures. Everything good always leaves. Your side of the bed is cold, offputtingly so. Like something’s missing. That’s how it goes. That’s why he’s like this. He forgot why he keeps his distance, but he promises to never ever do that again. He shouldn’t have let you bulldoze his carefully crafted walls so easily—

Wait.

Is that toast?

Sukuna follows the smell into his kitchen, where you’re wearing nothing but his shirt and that lovely pair of pink panties. He can see the bitemarks and handprints on your thighs that he made sure to leave last night. Staking his claim.

You turn around and you smile, lighting up his dull bachelor kitchen. Sukuna feels the desire to buy a plant. Or some more cutlery, perhaps.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,”

denial is a river in egypt.

also idk if i made this clear enough, but this isn’t some “not like other girls” propaganda, sukuna is just a fucking idiot

thank you for reading! <3

masterlist | divider by plutism

[tojigasm]

Thinking about older!Logan and how he'd definitely clock the crush you have on him as soon as you meet him.

It's amusing to him, and unfortunately for you, Logan wasn't born yesterday and he absolutely catches your long stares when you think he's not looking or the way you avert your eyes from his whenever speaking to you.

He thinks it's cute and a little stupid on your behalf – a twenty year old something kid crushing on some fifty year old man old enough to be your father.

But it's when the two of your eyes meet from across the room that he knows he's completely fucked because damn if you're not the prettiest thing he's seen in a good fifteen years or so and damn if he doesn't want to treat you the way he knows boys your age aren't

When he finally gets you alone, it escalates faster than either of you could've imagined.

"Shy little thing arent'cha?" He comments from his seat beside you, "Am I really that mean and scary?"

For a moment, you don't realize he's speaking to you until you look up to scan the room before meeting his eyes.

Logan seems to have followed your eyes, scanning each nook and crevice along with you.

"See any ghosts?"

Your eyes narrow slightly in annoyance.

"M'not shy."

Logan hums from his seat, leaning forward to pick up his cigar from the table. Settling back into his chair, he takes a long drag.

"Sure y'rnot." He replies with a smirk, smoke pooling from his lips as he exhales through his words.

You don't break eye contact with him this time, and he's got you right where he wants you.

"M'not." You repeat.

"Oh, I know you're not." Logans voice suddenly shifts to a lighter tone, laced with tease. The switch throws you off for a moment. "Don't think I haven't seen you, do you?"

And there's no need for him to elaborate. You've been caught in your school girl crush that, in reality, you know you won't get in trouble for but it's the fear of disappointing the older man that strikes a chord of anxiety through you.

You don't say anything to that, and the two of you only stare at one another before Logan's placing his cigar back down into the ashtray and motioning for you to come towards him.

You obey without question, partially in response to your training with him and partially wanting to show him how good you can be, how good you are – you have complete trust in him.

Logan seems to sense the slight of your unease, helping to lead you to straddle his lap as you sit down atop him.

His thighs spread out beneath you, helping to keep you balanced.

"That's better, huh?" He asks.

You nod, eyes drifting downwards to where your hands have begun to trace over the detailed lines of his leather suit.

There's quietness to the moment. One that seems as though it could last forever as Logan keeps a gentle hand on your thigh and the other on the arm of the chair, content on letting you distract yourself for the moment.

"Jesus," Logan comments, making you look up to meet his eyes again.

He cups a hand to your jaw, softly turning your head left and right to look you over.

"Can tell you right now," he cuts himself off with a hesitant inhale, the pads of his gloves running along your hips as he slides his hands up and down the shape of your waist to your thigh, "– When I was younger I would've been all over ya'."

Something about the image that draws your mind makes your core ache and your legs weak – imagining a younger version of the older man in the moment, the whitesh grey streaks in his hair bring you back to earth just as fast.

Logan holds your chin with two of his fingers, pad of his gloved thumb stroking your soft skin, and in the same moment, the two of you are kissing.

His lips are soft against your plush ones. His tongue is rough as he takes his time to run the wet muscle up the insides of your cheeks and around your own tongue.

You run your nails through the short of his hair, tangling your fingers in the thick of his tufts.

Logan groans into the kiss, shuffling down the seat to spread his thighs out further beneath you.

His hand comes up to cup your heat, and you gasp into the kiss before grinding your hips into his large palm.

Logan smiles into the kiss.

It only takes him a moment before the pad of his thumb is deftly pressed against your clit through the layers of your suit and you're pulling away from the kiss to moan.

Your brows furrow, and your hands drop from his hair to rest atop his shoulders, letting out soft moans and hums as his finger circles your bud.

"There we go." Logan kisses the curve of your jaw, pulling back to lean against the chair, watching as you relax into his hold.

"That feels good." You manage through a whimper, humming lightly as he shifts his movements to figure eights over your clit.

Logan gives a half chuckle, "I bet it does." His free hand holds you by your hip, keeping you still as you begin to rock into his hand.

"Right there, huh?" He asks, and you nod weakly, rolling your hips into his hand.

"M'close." You breathe.

Logan nods, "Tell Daddy where you want him."

You're quick to obey, dropping your hand from his shoulder to hold his wrist in place, letting out a choked sob when he runs his fingers over your sensitive folds through your suit.

There's not much warning besides a moan that gets caught half way up your throat as you cum.

Logan only continues to run his fingers over your cunt, stroking your folds before your pushing his hand away, swallowing soft gasps for air as you relax against him.

You can feel him kiss the top of your head, his hand stroking up and down the soft of your back while your fingers are tangled with the other.

"Y'okay?" He asks into your hair.

You nod.

[your-internet-bf]

We hadn't always gotten along. When our parents got married, we could barely stand each other. How could we get along with some brat we barely knew? Luckily, I had an idea. I bought a clicker - you know, the one they use to train dogs? - and got to work.

I started with "thank you". Every time you said it, maybe at dinner, in the car, at a restaurant, I pressed the clicker. You couldn't tell where the sound was coming from, and nobody else seemed to know what you were talking about. But soon, I started helping you with chores around the house and when we finished, *click*. And without really thinking about it, you'd say "thank you."

A few months passed, and you'd started to notice things about me. I took care of myself. I was clean, and I exercised regularly. You'd hang around when you knew I'd be back from the gym just to catch a whiff of the sweat and metal on me when I returned - our eyes caught once when you got a little too close, and for the first time you saw something primal, a little dark, in my gaze. But it passed in an instant.

We started getting along better, now. So one day, when you were lying on the couch with a snack bowl, I snatched it up and motioned to throw it into your mouth. Well, innocent enough, right? And it wasn't like I was eating much, so it's fine, right? Every time you open your mouth to catch, *click*, *click*, *click*.

Then, I invited you to come work out with me. Every time you did a squat, *click*. I told you it was a metronome to keep your intensity up, but you noticed the bulge in my sweatpants was bigger than usual. Wait, when did you start noticing my bulge, especially enough to know that...?

Finally, it was time. I'd been listening outside your bedroom door for weeks now, and I knew when you'd be asleep. I quietly opened your door and stepped into your room, locking it behind me. You stirred at the sound of the lock clicking, but I wasn't afraid.

I gingerly pulled down the covers and just... stared for a while. I'd never taken the time to really look at how beautiful you are, how gorgeous those curves were. I could hardly stand it. As you lay on your side, I took out the clicker, and *click* it once. Laying on your side, like you were on the couch with the snacks, you obediently open your mouth.

I pull down my pants, my long, thick cock swinging between my thighs. I brush the back of my hand over your cheek, then set it firmly against the back of your head, and push into your mouth.

You wake up almost immediately, but my hand stops you from pulling back as I force inch after throbbing inch down your throat. The more you struggle, the tighter you feel, the harder I push, until you felt your nose press into my hips. You push as hard as you can against me, but I'm so much bigger and stronger than you it doesn't do anything. I don't even budge.

I start to grind into your skull, making you swallow the thick, heavy head of my cock again and again, as I groan in pleasure. I start thrusting harder and harder, making your eyes water as I slam my hips into your face again and again, until finally, mercifully, I release inside you, deep inside your throat. You feel me pulse with your whole mouth, and you struggle to swallow each load of thick, hot, sticky cum while I'm still inside you.

With a shuddering breath, I pull out, letting you breathe properly for the first time in minutes. I watch while you cough and catch your breath, and then I ask, "what do you say?"

You breathe in intending to scream, but then you hear it, just one soft *click*, and all you can say is "thank you".

You stare at me, confused. I wipe my cum off your chin with my thumb, and *click* again. "Thank you", you say.

"I knew it. You're such a good girl, aren't you? Now," I push you onto your back, "spread for me."

*click*

You raise your legs to either side, exactly like you're doing a squat.

"I don't - I don't understand," you whimper, legs still in the air.

"You don't have to," I reply, reaching one hand between your legs to feel how wet you are.

"You're soaking, little girl," as I bring my hand up for you to see... Then make you taste it. I reach back down and slip in two of my thick, strong fingers, and cover your mouth with my other hand as you moan. I press up in just the right spot, rubbing in tight, quick circles so deliciously that you can't help but arch your back and grind into me. You feel the pleasure build and all thought leaves your mind; the only thing that matters is my fingers inside you, the scent of my hand over your mouth, and the lingering taste of me.

But before you can finish I pull my fingers out, pressing up and out, leaving you twitching and gasping. "Not yet," I mutter, and I move myself down between your legs. I line up my cock, slapping it down on your tummy first. It reaches your navel, and you feel a wave of fear that only makes you wetter. I pull back, then start pushing in.

It's thick, thick, thick, and heavy. I stretch you out wider than you thought possible, pressuring you in every direction, spreading your aching cunt and making you feel full inside for the first time in your life. Long, deep strokes, moving your whole body with every thrust, reaching inside you, my breath coming fast and hard.

And you hear it again.

*click*

"Thank you," you choke out between sobs.

*click*

"Thank you," you moan.

*click*

"Thank you," you plead, tears in your eyes.

My strokes come faster now, slamming inside you like an animal as you continue to thank me for raping you. Finally, finally, finally, you feel me tense up and slam deep, deep, deep inside you, pressing your whole body into the bed, as I cum again. Huge, hot, sticky white loads of my cum shoot inside you, filling you, as my breath comes in gasps, and as I do you feel it too, now, the wave of pleasure cresting, and you cum, your legs squeezing together, your face screwed tight, moaning with the release of months of tension. And as you cum, you hear a new sound, a familiar sound, but it's deeper than the others...

*click*

And you cum harder, knowing I'm training you like a bitch in heat.

I climb up next to you, and just gaze into your eyes for a moment. Then I smile. "Let's go again."

*click*

[sugutiva]

❝ PUFF , PUFF , FUCK ! ❞ — G. SUGURU

ᥫ᭡ synopsis : riding suguru while he’s high .

tags : smut, p in v, smoking, cowgirl, biting, dirty talk, all lowercase, not proofread !

a/n : sugutiva .

geto manspreads lazily against the couch with a fat blunt placed on his kiss bitten lips. his red eyes distantly travel over the expanse of your swaying body. the effects of the sativa is apparent in his hazed body language.

your eyes pick up on the way how he barely parts his mouth to sexily exhale the cloud of built up smoke. you can’t stop whining; the way how his eyes are lazy but still feel so heavy on your body makes you almost numb.

he tuts when he notices you suppressing your moans and babbles. his favorite sounds.

“ nahhh, don’t do that now,” his voice is smooth as it travels sparks of pleasure through your body— despite sounding a bit strained due to your walls continuing to clamp around him tightly. “ don’t hold back those pretty sounds, sweetheart. wan’a hear how cock drunk you can be.” his thumb tugs at your bottom lip that’s caught in between your two rows of teeth. he smiles when a sharp moan tumbles out your mouth as the tip of dick constantly knocks against your sweet spot.

“ suguuu, p-please— you feel s’good!” your words come out as a jumbled slur. he’s so bulky, the stretching sensation in your pussy quickly bleeds into pleasure as your bounces on his lap quickly becomes rowdy. your thighs burn with sweet heat from the expand.

he looks at you with the slyest expression— akin to one of a cat’s. “ yeah? tell me more baby. beg for me to touch you so this filthy pussy can cum on my cock.” his hand slides around your hips to give your ass a few sharp slaps, spurring you on.

a tease is perfect word to describe geto— he loved making you bluntly spell out what you wanted even when he knew.

“ i want you to t-touch me,”

“ be specific girl, there’s many places on your body that i want to touch.” he quickly corrects you, the hand holding the once lit blunt is thrown over the back of the couch loosely as he focuses his attention on you.

you huff out before complying. “ please… i want you to rub my clit til’ i cum!” even to your own ears you sound quite pathetic.

but suguru thinks otherwise— he casually gives you a grin at your plead, giving your ass another heartfelt grab before maneuvering his hand to give your throbbing clit it’s desired attention. his thumb presses down on the bud before motioning tight circles, inflicting a noisy whine from the new wave of pleasure, leading you closer to your orgasm.

“ likeee this?” he asks and you reply with new frantic moves of your hips. “ mhmm.. seems like it. your practically gushing on my cock baby.” he takes in the scene with amusement.

he bites back an unusual moan from creeping out when your body slams down harsher this time, feeling your pussy rock and hold his leaking cock snuggly almost has him seeing stars. the thumb on your clit speeds as suguru throws his head back, his chest and neck a flushed sweaty mess as strands of his black hair sticks to his damp skin.

he’s growing stupid from you bouncing your pussy on him repeatedly in that hypnotic manner— and that sight alone almost rips your orgasm out of you.

you lean over to nip his adam’s apple, your pussy contracts when you feel his breath hitch. “ fuuck, that’s it. fuck yourself silly on me, just like that, girl.” he pauses before he lets out a shaky breath— it’s unintentional, but his voice alone drags you into your powerful orgasm.

you force your hips to continue rocking against him while increased squelches resonates through the fuzzy room along with your combined moans. you feel sparks of electricity shoot through your limbs, your cunt squeezes more slick out, creating a translucent ring around the hefty base of his cock.

you don’t get a moment to calm down from your high because suguru’s hand moves from your clit to grab your hip— his grip boards on painfully but you don’t get to dwell on it as his warm fluid paints your walls a creamy white and your mind blank.

his cum is so warm and it makes you feel full inside, he ruts his hips up erratically to make broken hiccups escape your mouth before he eventually stops.

in the aftermath you only focus on the shallow breaths and pants escaping your bodies, suguru breaks the silence. “ i… can’t feel my dick right now.” his voice is much different than before… more breathless. despite that, when you try to lift yourself off his hand pulls your hip down as his body shifts to grab something.

when you hear the familiar flicks of a lighter igniting, you lift your head back up to be greeted with suguru taking a final puff of the blunt, his chest whiffs up with smoke.

you watch as he keeps his chest tight, holding the sativa in his lungs, before he slightly lifts two fingers off the lighter to motion you to come forward for a kiss.

once you do, he exhales into your mouth with his hand holding your jaw tightly and you accept the wave of warmth greedily. the earthy taste hits before flooding your senses hazily and you take in all of what suguru gives you with blissful content. the effects of the suguru and the sativa makes your mind and limbs go misty.

when you part, your lips are still connected with a thin line of spit before you lap it up with a erotic smirk.

“ round two?” before he can answer, your hips start to slowly wind up again.

[sunarc]

Geto’s tired of listening to you fail to get yourself off. It's another late night of your touching yourself but seemingly unable to bring yourself to an orgasm. He doesn’t think he can go another night listening to the frustrated sighs probably because your fingers don’t reach the spot you’re desperately craving them to touch. If you need help why don’t you just ask. He’s more than willing to give you what you need. 

He sat leaning against the wall listening to your whimpers. His hand moves in slow motions pumping himself to your voice. 

“Just let go baby it’s so easy” he whispers eyes closed listening to your harsh sighs.

His hand squeezes the base of his cock while his head lulls back. He knows you need him. He can have you cumming in seconds. His mind is running a mile per minute with thoughts of how pretty you probably look with your legs spread stretching yourself out with your fingers. His thoughts run rampant but they are cut short by a frustrated groan coming through the walls. Something takes over Geto because before he realizes his actions his knuckles knock softly against the wall. He hears you shuffling before you whisper softly.

“Yes?”

“Do you… need help?” he’s not sure what has possessed him. This can go one of two ways and he’s praying it goes how he's imagining it. 

You’re silent for a minutes presumably contemplating his question. The silence feels like it's clawing at his brain. He almost wants to take back what he said but it’s far too late for that. 

“I-” he’s cut off by your voice

“Yes” you whimper.

Geto’s heart feels like it might jump out of his chest. Did he hear that right? He scrambles to his feet realizing that he now has to act on his words. His feet carry him to your room and it feels like he might be floating. When he opens the door there you are spread out just as he imagined with a pout on your face. 

“Please help” you whimper. 

Geto is by your side within seconds eyeing the way slick drools down your cunt. “Fuck you look so good” he breathes. 

He moves your hand gently and replaces it with his own. His fingers feel so much better than your own. He reaches spots you can only dream of reaching. 

Geto’s eyes watch the way you arch into him feeling the way his fingers glide against your walls. A small smirk appears on his face as he watches you close your eyes feeling pure bliss. 

“Yeah? Does that feel good princess?” his voice is soft whispering the sweet words to you. 

You nod your head too focused on chasing after your orgasm to reply with words. 

“Look at you. You needed me didn’t you? Look at how your falling apart for my fingers. Wait until you get my cock baby.” He leans into you pressing kisses against your neck. His arm holds your body close to his while his fingers massage your core send sparks of pleasure through your body. 

“Come for me pretty, Let me see you make a mess” he groans in your ear. 

You body jolts from the orgasm. Your hands grip onto Geto shaking from the orgasm you were chasing. 

“That’s it, just like that, so good for me” he kisses your shaking form. 

You don't have enough time to come down from your before Geto is flipping you over and push you down into an arch. 

“Let me get a taste before I fuck you to sleep princess”

His hands spread your ass cheeks so he can see your slick cover cunt. His tongue glides between your folds. He licks and flicks your clit while his hand massages the fat of your ass. 

“Taste so good baby” he breathes 

His groans sound heavenly as he licks between your folds as i you’re his favorite meal. He’s in a land of pure bliss tasting you. He hums as his tongue dips in and out of your hole messily eating you. Geto has never felt himself losing control in this way. There’s something about you. Something that possesses him. He wants you, needs you in the most lewd way. Thoughts of you cumming on his cock plague his mind. His heart is beating in his chest harder than ever. This doesn’t even feel real. To have you in this way spread out with your ass in the air all for him has his cock achingly hard. 

“You ready for me Princess?” he groans pulling back taking a deep breath. Your slick pools down his chin. 

You nod your head desperately while your hand grip the sheet eager to feel him at your entrance. Geto places the tip of his cock at your entrance treasuring the way you whine for him to put it in. He loves how desperate you are for him. He lovees that you crave him the same way he crave you. 

“I’m gonna take my time with this” he whispers. 

His hand massages your hip as he inches his cock deep into you. He’s big and no amount of finger could have prepared you for him. You burn with pleasure feeling his cock stretch you out. 

“‘ S-so big” you whine.

Once he bottoms out he holds that position. He bites his lip while his fingers hold onto your hips.

“Fuck- you don’t understand how long I’ve wanted to do this” he lets out a heavy sigh as he closes his eyes. His pace start off slow. He wants you to feel every inch of his sliding inside of you. 

“You’re taking me so well baby” his voice soothes you as he fucks you. His thrusts are slow and long.

You look so pretty like this. Your back is arched, hands stretched outward taking all that he has to give you. Geto’s soaking in the moment. His heart feels like it might burst out of his chest. He finally has you and he’s taking advantage of every second. Your moans bounce off the walls echoing through the room. Your so loud taking his cock no wonder he could hear you through the walls fucking yourself. 

“This is what you needed isn’t it” he groans “You needed me, needed my cock. It’s okay I’m here now princess. All you have to worry about now is making a mess on my cock.”His thrust are filled with passion.   

His hands part your ass cheeks so he can get a view how how your cunt swallows his cock. 

“Look at how much this pussy loves me” he moans eyes low staring at where the two of you connect.       

He throws his head back groaning at the way you clench around him. 

“Fuck its so tight and warm” he can’t control himself. 

His picks up speed thrusting into you wildly chasing after an orgasm. 

“I need you so bad, Please fuck- please cum for me” he’s never known himself to lose control like this. 

His moans turn into whimpers as he continues fucking into you softly holding you. He can feel you’re close. Your face presses into the pillow muffling your moans. 

“Come on baby, Let me hear those pretty moans, don't hide them from me”his thrust are constant. 

He leans down to press kisses up your spine to your shoulder. His thrust are slow but they leave yo0u shaking on the brink of your orgasm. 

“Cum for me princess, I know how bad you need it” His voice is like silk whispering the words to you. 

His words send you over the edge. You completely lose yourself cumming around his cock. 

“That’s it, you're so good for me” he chuckles with a shaky voice. 

His thrust do not stop. He lets out a deep sigh before sitting up to fuck you faster. Your hand moves to push against his hips whining about how it’s too much. He chuckles and intertwines his fingers into yours. 

“Too much? We’re just getting started princess” a sly smirk grows across his face.

“I told you I was going to take my time. Let’s see how many times I can get you to cum tonight”

[saintobio]

RIDE OR DIE .ᐟ

in a world where horsepower meets heartstrings, and bookstore meet-cutes lead to motorcycle mishaps, you soon realize that opposites do attract in ways that blur the line between fiction and reality.

▞▞ PAIRINGS. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader

▞▞ GENRE. fluff, smut, established relationship, biker boy x book girl au, 18+

▞▞ TAGS. biker!kuna, backpack!reader, profanity, reckless driving, mentions of violence (not to reader), bruises, police, fellatio, cunnilingus, protected, explicit smut, sukuna being a cute bf

▞▞ NOTES. 8.3k word count. my biker!kuna fics are unstoppable atp 😮‍💨 and as an irl writer gf to a biker bf, this is a very self-indulgent fic. got lazy with the smut so i copied bits from my other gojo oneshot. reblogs are highly appreciated <3

▞▞ INSPOS. my fav biker boys on biketok: that10r, dylan.r.one, raven.coop, onyx_r7, senor_torque, blacchornets, aushendrivessafe, tiiidddooo, bongo & takaro 🖤🏍️💨

After dating you for six months, Sukuna realized that nothing in the world could capture your attention like your cherished collection of fictional books—except, of course, him. But before he entered the picture, you were always immersed in solitary bliss at the cafe or library, lost in the intricate worlds of your latest literary fascination to the point where it was almost impossible to pull you out of it. 

Yet, it became an unspoken understanding between you both; he respected your need for uninterrupted reading time, allowing you to lose yourself in stories populated by your favorite characters, while in return, you supported his desire for a thrilling experience of riding his bike despite the inherent risks that came with it. 

He vividly remembered the first time he saw you while riding his bike through the city. You were crossing the street then, carrying a bag of books you had just bought from Barnes & Noble, and the sight of you in a cute sundress had him completely distracted from the road. So in an attempt to catch your attention, he revved his bike to ‘flex’. But in his effort to impress, he missed the red light and had to brake abruptly, causing him to lose control and drop his bike to the ground. 

That was the very first time he had ever dropped his precious R1 after a year of riding it. If it had been his old R7, he wouldn’t have cared as much, but his R1—his expensive, still-on-the-loan, matte black, fully customized R1—hit the pavement along with him. For bikers, these kinds of things hurt.

Now, talk about embarrassing. You even stopped to look at him in concern that day and if only you could see his blushing face behind his helmet. But at least, looking back at your meet-cute, he could tell you that he did, in fact, fall for you. Literally.

And there can’t be anything truer than that.

“Aww, she’s cute,” Choso remarked, gesturing his chin towards you with a teasing grin as they dismounted their bikes at the parking lot. You were there sitting in a cafe with a book on your lap, unaware that you were being conversed about by these two men right outside.

Sukuna jabbed him on the side and motioned for him to stop staring. “Fuck off. She’s mine.”

As Choso lifted his helmet, a group of girls outside the cafe couldn’t help but swoon over the two bikers, whispering and commenting on how hot and attractive they looked. And being the fucker that he was, completely absorbed in the attention from the girls, Choso had momentarily forgotten about Sukuna as he swaggered towards them with a confident smirk, glancing back at his friend and playfully raising his eyebrows.

“You go ahead. I’ll go check out the scenery,” Choso said in his usual mischief, “Unless you want to join me?”

Sukuna, still sporting his helmet, smugly showed him a picture of you as his phone’s home screen. “Sorry, already got my hands full with my princess.”

“Whatever. Tell Y/N I said hi,” Choso replied with a chuckle, before turning his attention back to the admiring group of girls.

You sat in your customary corner of the cafe, near the window, with a barely touched cup of coffee before you. Your attention was still and all riveted to the pages of your current book, remaining oblivious to the world around you as it looked like you were just getting to the good part of the storyline. Sukuna decided it would be a charming surprise to approach you as he entered the cafe, his arrival catching the eye of another group of girls who noticed him immediately, but he ignored their glances when he made his way towards your small area.

In his usual black leather jacket, Sukuna pulled a chair backward and straddled it, casually resting his arms on the backrest. With both legs on either side, he settled in, observing you intently behind his black helmet. A faint smirk played on his lips as he quietly watched you absorbed in your reading, and for now, he said nothing and enjoyed the moment silently.

He gave it a minute or so for you to realize. 

5… 4… 3… 2… “L-Lovey?” By the time you finally noticed his presence, you saw your widened eyes at his reflective visor when you looked up at him. 

“Hey, baby girl.” Sukuna pushed the button to lift his visor, revealing his narrow eyes that were locked onto yours. He had that boyish grin sitting handsomely on his lips.

As for you, you looked like you were blushing. That, or perhaps there was some sort of fluttering happening inside your heart at the unexpected sight of him. It was probably taking you a moment to separate fiction from reality, because not long ago, you were too fixated on the fictional boy written on the pages of your book. Now, your very real and actual boyfriend was here. For you. “Um… How long have you been there?”

“Not that long,” he assured in his usual low, velvet voice. “I just arrived, actually. Didn’t wanna disturb my baby.”

Your curious eyes fell on the red tribal decals on his black Nexx SX100r helmet, reminding you of the same face tattoo designs he had mentioned wanting to get, but you were refusing to let him have. “New helmet?”

Sukuna nodded, smirking as he tapped the headgear with his gloved hand. “Yeah, you like it?”

“I do,” you replied, smiling. “It’s very you.”

“Thanks, baby.”

You glanced at his sleek black Yamaha R1 outside the window and immediately closed your chosen book for the day. “Okay, well…” You met his gaze again. “I have backpack duties today, don’t I?”

He was quick to dismiss it. “No, no. You can finish reading. I don’t mind just sittin’ here and watching you for a while.”

But, being the stubborn girl you were, you were already packing your book into your bag. You didn’t even listen to a word he said. “Did you bring my helmet?”

“‘Course, princess. Your helmet’s right there strapped onto the backseat.” Your boyfriend leaned in closer and pointed to his sportbike. Just as he took your bag from you, his eyes lingered on your lips for a moment. “So, you’re gonna be my pretty little backpack today?”

You mustn’t have realized it, but the two of you had become the subject of envious stares in the cafe. Most of the girls who looked your way were clearly jealous. Yet your cute, clueless self didn’t even seem to notice as you clung to his arm. “Yes, lovey. I miss being your backpack.” 

Did you know? Sukuna always melted from your enthusiasm. And he couldn’t even resist pinching your cheeks. “Alright, then.” His hand moved to squeeze your nose. “I'll be your personal chauffeur, and you’ll be my cute little backpack who’s clinging tightly to me the whole time. Sounds good?”

“Yessir,” you answered with a playful salute. 

“Good girl.” He then took your hand in his, leading you out of the cafe and onto the parking lot when he all of a sudden felt a tug on his arm. 

You had a visible pout displayed. “Lovey, wait!” 

“What is it, baby?” The question came out of him softly, tilting his head when he looked at you. 

“My kiss,” you said sweetly, making Sukuna feel like Cupid shot an arrow to his heart. “You forgot.”

How can one person be so unbelievably adorable? Just how? How on Earth did he land the cutest girl on the planet? The cuteness aggression was certainly urging him to fall on his knees right now. With the weakness he tried to restrain inside, he was trying his hardest to laugh it off on the outside. “Oh damn, you’re right.” He pulled his helmet up, leaning in forward to place a warm, tender kiss on your soft lips. He could hear the hearts of the surrounding girls breaking at the sight. “Can’t believe I forgot to give my baby the most important item of the day.” 

Satisfied with the kiss, you followed your tattooed boyfriend like a shadow to meet his bike, ‘Fury’, as he affectionately named it. The sportbike rocked a midnight black wrap and the cool customizations he added made it a standout even more. Of course, what kind of person would think Sukuna would stick with a boring base design? One of the best things about his R1 was its front light, infamous in the bike community, as it resembled a menacing face that added to its aggressive allure. It was also equipped with a powerful 998cc inline-four engine, leaving no questions why ‘Fury’ roared with a throaty exhaust note that echoed through the streets. Sukuna chuckled inwardly at the thought. He hoped you wouldn’t mind, but this big bad boy would have been the love of his life if you hadn’t come along. 

“Love, I was thinking,” you interrupted his trance as he slipped the smaller helmet over your head, deftly securing the straps under your chin, “Do you think we can swing by the bookstore on the way?”

His lips curved into a smile. “Sure, we can. You wanna pick up more books to read?”

“I do,” you confirmed, yet hesitated at the end of your tone. “Well, there’s this book I wanna read, but… it has eighteen plus stuff.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow in intrigue, his visor still up as he effortlessly lifted you onto the back of his bike with one arm. “Oh, so it’s a spicy book, huh?” he teased, recalling the discussions he had seen on ‘biketok’ where he went by the username r1.skn. His TikTok account was an unexpected blend of motorcycle enthusiasts and book lovers, and that unique intersection of interests amused him endlessly. “Think my followers would love to know what my backpack’s gonna read next.” 

Even with your helmet on, he could sense the shy smile behind it. “No, please don’t film our ride today!”

“Hmm… What kind of spicy book are we talking about, baby?” he asked, settling onto his bike and revving the engine. When your arms were securely wrapped around his torso, he took that as a go signal to hold the throttle and smoothly shift from first to second gear. “Is it very naughty?”

You hugged him tightly from behind. “Um, it’s about this biker guy and a bookish girl,” you introduced the plot coyly, “And yes, it has some steamy scenes.”

He glanced at you through the bike’s mirror, ensuring that you were safe and secured behind him. Sukuna then shifted into third gear as you entered an empty road, gradually picking up speed. The roar of his bike was louder than his voice. “Really? I bet the biker guy is a dominant one.”

“Yeah.” Your grip tightened on his compression shirt, almost as if you were trying to feel his abs through the fabric. “He’s got tattoos, too.”

What a tease. “You better picture me as that biker guy when you read that book, princess,” he playfully warned, “You’re mine, both in real life and in your fantasies.”

“Yes, but my lovey is hotter.” 

“Good response, baby. You have taste.” 

As you reached the stoplight in the city intersection, Sukuna slowed down and adjusted the small camera mounted on his bike to make sure it still had the perfect angle of you two. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he now had evidence of how touchy his cute, little backpack could get. You sensed him filming your interaction, but instead of pulling your hand away, you leaned further against his back and playfully touched his toned chest. He was surprised and amused at the action, gently pulling your hand down when your silly hands squeezed his chest, but you remained undeterred by placing them near his crotch the next. Your boyfriend hoped to God that none of the surrounding cars were recording you two for your affectionate display in the middle of the traffic. 

“Brat,” he teased back with a shake of his head. “A brat who always gets what she wants, especially in bed.”

Your whine followed, along with a light slap on his arm. “Hey!” 

Why was this red light taking too long? He was getting all bricked up the more he could feel your tits pressing against his back. Although, he considered it a blessing and curse, because the only distraction that was served to you two was when another bike pulled up ahead of cars lined up behind you. It was a white Kawasaki ZX-10R. And its owner? A jerk who had a clear death wish. 

“Hey there, sexy,” catcalled the rider of the 10R, stopping exactly where he could see your rear. “Cute helmet.” 

Sukuna knew you well enough to know that you were offering an uncomfortable, yet polite smile underneath the helmet. But it was the tug at your boyfriend’s shirt that made him glance over the biker with a hint of warning in his eyes. “What’d you say?” His voice carried a menacing edge. While he hadn’t been in a brawl in a while, he definitely didn’t mind the idea of one now. “Back off my girl or I’ll smash your head on the ground.” 

The ZX-10R rider chuckled, hands in the air like an idiot. “Alright, man. No harm meant.” 

“Shut it.” 

“Okay, jeez! How about a little race to settle things? See who’s got the faster ride?”

Sukuna scoffed, finding it hard to believe that a random guy, especially an obvious amateur, had the audacity to challenge him to a race. Didn’t he know? Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t nicknamed the King of the Streets for nothing. He had been riding motorcycles for twelve years now, starting with a modest 300cc and graduating to his current 1000cc superbike. His riding experience was unmatched. He also knew every biker in the area as it was his turf. Yet this ZX-10R rider had appeared out of nowhere with such laughable confidence. 

Thanks to him, your boyfriend’s competitive spirit was ignited. “You’re on.”

“Cool,” the other biker replied.

Meanwhile, you tensed behind Sukuna and gripped his shirt tighter than before. “Love, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

He turned his head, gently held the top of your head, and gave you a sweet ‘helmet kiss’. “I’ll keep you safe,” he reassured, “Just hold on tight for me, okay?”

As soon as the light turned green, best believe the street became a racetrack. All the cars were left behind to dust with the roar of motorcycles as both bikers increased their speed, side by side, in a fierce race. Sukuna shifted into third gear as he passed the next intersection, then into fourth gear when the ZX-10R caught up to him. He could feel your hold around him tightening more than ever as the rush of the wind blew through your helmet’s visor.

He thought you might hate it, but you were surprisingly loving the thrill of the scene. 

“Go, baby!” you cheered, holding onto him for dear life. Cute. 

“Not bad, man!” the other biker shouted over the wind, pulling ahead slightly at Sukuna’s moment of distraction. “But try harder!”

Tch. Sukuna gritted his teeth and focused all his senses on the road ahead. He weaved through traffic, maneuvering his bike skillfully and taking advantage of every opportunity to gain ground. In no time, he caught up with the ZX-10R rider, and they soon raced neck and neck. They exchanged glances as they sped between cars, with the other vehicles blurring around them in motion. The thrill of the competition fueled their adrenaline, while you, as the passenger, felt your heart pounding with excitement.

Both bikes continued to zoom down the road. And it was also during that time when Sukuna locked his mind and body into analyzing the situation. Let’s see, he thought, should I push Fury to its limits?

He calculated his next move, feeling the strong breeze on his face and the vibrations of the powerful engine beneath him. The ZX-10R rider was good, but Sukuna knew he had the skills and the bike to outpace him. He just needed to time it right. Between a ZX-10R and an R1, a quick Google search would tell you that the 10R pulls faster than an R1 engine wise. While both bikes were top-tier, high performance vehicles with a 200 horsepower and a top speed exceeding 180mph, the 10R’s disadvantage is being 7 kg heavier, which instantly gave Sukuna an edge in this situation. Being the lighter bike between the two would certainly make him marginally better at handling and acceleration. 

With that, your boyfriend capitalized on his bike’s strengths and shifted into sixth gear at the next intersection, surging ahead and crossing the finish line just as the ZX-10R was left stuck at the last stoplight.

Sweet, sweet victory. Sukuna sped onto the freeway, shouting triumphantly into the air. “Woohoo!” He could feel the jolt of adrenaline satiating his need for a thrilling ride. 

“B-Babe.” You, on the other hand, tugged at his shirt in worry. “Babe, we’re going too fast. The cops—!”

The sound of the siren snapped Sukuna back to reality in an instant. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, frustrated by the abrupt interruption. “Can’t even have a minute to celebrate my win.” 

While he could have engaged in a high-speed freeway chase if he wanted to, especially having already escaped the police once, having you with him now made him opt for better judgment. His promise to keep you safe was his foremost priority here. So, swallowing his pride with a tightened jaw, he slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road as the police car trailed behind.

The officer swiftly exited his vehicle and approached you two. “Evening, folks,” the stern voice of the elderly officer broke the tension. “License and registration, please.”

Sukuna retrieved his wallet and handed over his license and registration, then turned to you, placing a protective hand on your thigh. He could tell his poor little backpack was feeling anxious. 

The cop then glanced between you and Sukuna, his gaze lingering on you with concern. “Ma’am, are you alright?” he asked, his focus more on your well-being than on the biker himself.

You nodded, trying to appear composed despite the adrenaline still coursing through you. “Yes, officer. I’m fine.”

The officer soon directed his attention to the R1. “What’s the fastest you’ve been on this thing?”

Sukuna couldn’t resist a cheeky reply. “Speed limit.”

“Very funny,” said the unamused officer, who retreated to his vehicle to run Sukuna’s information while leaving you and your boyfriend to exchange glances once more.

His expression softened. “Sorry about this, babe. I didn’t mean to get us in trouble.”  

“It’s okay.” You reassured him with a squeeze around his waist. “I trust you.”

Interrupting the tender moment, the officer returned and handed back your boyfriend’s license. “Do you know why I pulled you over?” he asked, receiving a shrug in response. A lecture that Sukuna heavily hated soon followed. “You were speeding back there. I clocked you going 20 miles over the limit. It’s always you fellas with the 1000cc bikes who think they’re invincible. Even 600cc guys are scared of the police. You need to slow down, especially with a passenger.”

With your insistent look, Sukuna nodded to the cop, apologetically. “Understood, sir.” 

The officer studied Sukuna for a moment before releasing a sigh. “Look, I get it. It’s a nice night for a ride. Just remember, it’s not just your life on the line. You’ve got someone else to think about.” He pointed at you while handing your boyfriend a ticket. “You’ve gotta take good care of her.” 

Only then did Sukuna’s cold mien soften up with the cop. “I’ll be careful next time, officer.”

“Right. I’m letting you off with a warning this time, but I’m writing you a ticket for speeding. Slow down, alright?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

The officer returned to his car, and Sukuna pocketed the ticket with a mixture of relief and frustration etched on his face. “We didn’t get to pass by your bookstore,” he lamented, giving you an affectionate caress on the back. “I’m sorry, princess.”

You touched your headgear to his, sharing a helmet kiss. “There’s always next time,” you reassured him with a smile in your voice. “Besides, this is a real-life experience that no book can ever give me.”

~~

By the time you arrived at your apartment, darkness had already settled in, leaving a cozy glow from the distant cityscape as you switched on the lights and placed your helmet on the nearby console table. Immediately, your British shorthair cat dashed toward you with a loud meow, his pretty auburn eyes gleaming with excitement at seeing his mom.

“Hi, Casper,” you cooed at the feline, but his attention swiftly turned when Sukuna entered your apartment a few minutes later—someone he clearly wasn’t fond of.

Upon spotting Sukuna, your cat hissed, expressing his displeasure toward your boyfriend, who playfully stuck his tongue out in response. “I’m back, asshole.”

“Don’t call him that!” You chuckled, attending to Casper by mixing up his food in his bowl. “He’s probably never going to warm up to you at this rate.”

Sukuna smoothly removed his jacket and flopped down on the couch. “Boo! Casper sucks,” he hooted, cupping his hands around his mouth, “He’s just jealous because you love me more.”

It had been a while since Casper had seen Sukuna since you were the one coming over at his place more often. Still, the cat’s disdain for your boyfriend persisted, and you suspected it was because Casper could detect the scent of Sukuna’s dog, a large Doberman, whenever he was near. You can only imagine how crazy your household would be should you and your boyfriend move in together in the near future. 

For now, his occasional visits sufficed. Although, there were days when his presence in your apartment stirred more thoughts in your mind than just simple cuddles and movie nights. How could you help it? He was oblivious to the thoughts running in your head as he sat lazily on your couch, his legs spread wide, lifting his compression shirt just above his sweaty chest. His toned abs were impossible to ignore, especially as he ran his fingers through his hair, breathing heavily.

“Babe, it’s so hot,” he said, fanning his face, completely unaware of the chaos inside your head. “Wanna shower before bed?”

His suggestion was innocent enough, but your immediate agreement was driven by a different kind of excitement. “Okay,” you replied with a sheepish grin, “I’ll see if you have any clothes left in the closet.”

You see, you and Sukuna had just started dating a few months ago—precisely 6 months and 3 weeks to be exact, so the relationship was definitely still fresh and vulnerable. But needless to say, while he was indeed a sweet and dreamy boyfriend that you could only ever read about in your stash of fictional books, there was also a side of him that awakened the more mature side of you. 

If it wasn’t obvious enough, Sukuna was more experienced in the intimacy department than you. And him being your first did bring in thoughts of inadequacy in terms of your performance in bed. You haven’t done it enough to call yourself a pro, but you also did it enough to say that you already knew what, how, and where to please him the most. You owe that experience to the multitude of smut scenes you had read about on Tumblr and AO3, because those exact stories provided essential insights that guided your actions on your first time.

Now, whenever the sexy beast within you was unleashed, you didn’t even hold back anymore. 

The shower was already running when you stepped inside the small space, your boyfriend letting the cold water fall on his naked tattooed body in rivulets. Each drop of water sounded like rainfall, and with him pulling you closer by the arm, he began kissing you with a passion that made it feel like you were caught in a rainstorm.

“Lovey!” You giggled, pushing your palms flat against his chest. “You said we’ll just shower.” 

“You know what I meant by that, baby.” 

The water continued to cascade down your skin, your hair now damp and your body now wet. Sukuna’s eyes darkened in lust as eyed you up and down, his hands tracing the curves of your body, before crashing his lips back onto yours once more. This time, his kisses were more aggressive as he bit your lower lip, and took the opportunity of shoving his tongue inside your mouth. He was devouring you with rough and wide movements, allowing your tongue to roll around his in a playful tangle. And with his fingers now grabbing a fistful of your hair, and his other hand sliding down your chest to squeeze your breast, you felt a stretch on your scalp when he pulled you by the hair to look up at him. “You think you’re so innocent, don’t you?” he teased, kneading your right breast before his hand moved south to palm your dripping cunt, “Deep down, you’re just as naughty and wicked as me.” 

“N-No.” Your breath hitched when his lips traced light kisses around your neck. But it wasn’t just his kisses and touch that made your knees weak, it was the feeling of his hardened member pressed against your stomach, fully erect and ready to be inside you. “Mmh… You’re the naughty one.” 

Sukuna went in for another open-mouthed kiss before he nibbled on your earlobe. “I don’t deny that, princess,” he pivoted your body around, and made you lean against the glass wall so he could get a better view of your buttocks. While you, you could see your tits pressed against the glass from your reflection in the mirror, a sight that your boyfriend went absolutely crazy for when he looked up. “Ah, fuck. That’s so hot.” 

You could feel his fingers playing with your entrance from behind, and you watched him bite his lip through the mirror, his eyes dancing in lust as he wantonly stared at your body. “Ngh,” you bit back a moan, the feeling of his fingers teasing your entrance making you curl your toes, “I… I-I like that.” 

“I bet you do, baby.” Good lord. His voice was deep and raspy, and the sexiness of it was enough to make you wet. He even showed you evidence per se, when he pulled his digits out, spreading two fingers apart to show you the clear, slimy substance that coated it. You were already a blushing mess when he showed you your cum, and felt the heat in your cheeks worsening as you watched him, eye-to-eye, suck your juices from his fingers. “Aww, my baby tastes sweet.” 

“It’s the pineapple juice,” you joked, allowing him to cup your jaw and place a sloppy kiss on your mouth. “Mmm—I forgot to tell you.” You pulled away to look at your boyfriend. “I’m ovulating.” 

Sukuna tilted his head, squeezing your bum tenderly as he replied, “Are you suggesting I get you pregnant?”

“No, silly!” You chuckled shyly while he positioned himself behind you. “I was trying to say that I get extra horny when I’m ovulating.” 

He smiled, aroused more than ever as he heard you say those words out loud. “Too bad, I was thinking of creampie-ing you.” 

A gasp flew out of your lips when Sukuna’s long, slender fingers performed circular motions on your clitoris, stretching your labia apart so he could insert two fingers at your entrance. “B-Babe!” Your widened eyes were in great contrast to his lust-filled ones as he found entertainment at your submission to pleasure. You gripped his wrist and tiptoed when he started scissoring his fingers inside, forcing you to raise your leg so he could continue to move his hand in and out of your sopping cunt. “Ahh—ah! S-Sukuna!”

He hadn’t heard his name from you in awhile and he found that amusing. “Hm, baby? Saying something?” 

You squeezed your legs together to hide the clench that you were feeling inside, looking up at his crazed brown eyes and tracing his pectoral muscles with your fingers. You couldn’t hold it anymore, you were a willing slut ready to be pounded on by this tattooed man. “Please, f-fuck me.”

He reattached his lips back onto yours and pulled away just enough to keep your foreheads connected. “Not yet, baby girl.” A sly smirk spread off his lips. “That book you were reading earlier at the cafe,” he began, pulling his fingers away to turn you around, “It was smut, wasn’t it?” 

Feeling a wave of embarrassment as he brought it up, you responded with a coquettish smile. “Maybe.” 

Sukuna then pushed you down on your knees, letting you kneel down in front of his hard, veiny cock. He had stroked himself a few times—his other hand lifting your chin up—before he slapped his length against your lips. “Think you can show me how they did it in that book?” 

“Why…” you trailed off, wrapping your hand around his cock, pumping the long, meaty shaft before placing your tongue on top of the swollen tip. He was all crazed and aroused when you kept eye-contact and started putting his member inside your mouth.

“Damn.” Your boyfriend threw his head back, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “Let’s make all your fantasies a reality, baby.” 

Well, he was sweet for that. But also mischievous, too. He knew you could be just as naughty as him because he had seen the books you were reading and most of them were definitely far from innocent. Could he blame you? Sometimes, reading about it was better than experiencing it. Yet with your boyfriend’s ego, he wasn’t one to allow your fictional men to be better than him in all aspects. Physically. Emotionally. Sexually.

You let him guide your hand into stroking his shaft before you ejected spit on the pink head, using it to lubricate his aching member while you lowered yourself further to fit his firm balls inside your mouth. It gave you utmost pleasure to hear his guttural moans when you swirled your tongue around his bollocks—tasting the same flesh that carried all of his sperm, and releasing it from your mouth to give his cock the same attention. At first, you kissed his swollen tip and treated it like a lollipop, then you started sucking every inch of his length by bobbing your head at a stable rhythm. “Mmm.” You could hear curses leaving his pretty lips as he held your head in place, snapping his hips forward until you were gagging from the intense penetration on your throat.

You learned all these after a single read at your favorite 18+ book.  

“That’s a good girl.” His praise rang in your ears like a sweet melody.

Even without a reflection to look at, this was the most erotogenic exchange you two had ever done as a couple. And along with that, his half lidded eyes were staring down at you, judging you and your every move. 

You did your best to give him a stellar performance, did your most at pleasuring his member, and did everything that he liked whenever you were sucking his cock. And just like that, thick ropes of cum were sent straight down your throat. The musky, metallic taste didn’t stop you from swallowing all of his seed and you had to show your tongue to make him know that you did a good job at taking all of his semen. Nothing was wasted.

Not even time, because as soon as you finished giving him a blowjob, he was already carrying you out of the bathroom without drying yourselves off. You were thrown into your double bed, manhandled into spreading your legs apart before your animalistic lover plunged his face onto your pussy.

“S-Sukuna—! Mmm—fuck!”

He had your back arching because of how deep his tongue was going inside, tasting your walls and kissing your cunt like he would do with your mouth. He was smooching off your labia like a hungry beast, eating you out as if he wasn’t satisfied by the juices that he was sucking from you. You were already in your seventh heaven, unable to think straight when he added his middle finger to the movements of his tongue. If fingering your pussy and lapping your clitoris weren’t enough to drive you crazy, maybe grabbing a fistful of pinkish hair was a sign for him to stop before you could truly lose it. You could feel fire pooling on your lower abdomen and your legs were already shaking uncontrollably, your toes curling wantonly—with the suction he was doing on your cunt, you ended up screaming for his name and engulfing his mouth with your Earth-shattering release.

“Haah! ‘Kuna, p-please…”

As he detached his mouth from your entrance, he started climbing up, visibly pleased with the way he ravaged your cunt. He was wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb, pressing his lips down on yours to make you taste your own fluid. A string of saliva connected your mouth to his before he grabbed ahold of his erect member once again. It hadn’t even been more than two minutes and you were already being hauled into another position. “Let me fuck you from behind.”

“Lovey, w-wait.”

“Ass up, baby.” His patience was growing thin when he dragged your body by raising your hips close to his crotch and pressing your head down against the mattress. Your boyfriend cared none for the embarrassment that settled on your heated cheeks when he spread your buttocks apart so he could ogle at the exact hole that he was about to enter. 

“No, wait!” you begged, looking up at him with a plea, “Condom, please.” 

The realization hit his face. “I think I’m all out, baby. Let me check,” he said, pulling away and stumbling towards his discarded pants on the floor, hoping desperately that he would find an unused packet of condom. Just to his luck, he had one more packet hidden between the folds of his leather wallet. “Got it!” 

He hastily ripped the packet with his teeth, taking the rubber out, and rolling it slowly to cover his entire length. You remained on all fours, watching him as he ejected spit on his fingers, which he soon used to lubricate your entrance. 

Did he give you any time to adjust? That word didn’t even exist in his vocabulary when he sunk all seven inches inside of your cunt, wrecking you open to the point where you could feel a stinging sensation on your entrance after being stretched by his fully erect cock. “Best pussy in the entire world.”

You were suppressing your moans from coming out too loud while you bit on a pillow, nails digging on the sheets as your lover penetrated your tight vaginal walls. “Ahh! M-More… More.” He was treating you like a fleshlight as he continued to rut your sopping cunt with his fat cock, absolutely enjoying how your warm pussy was milking his full length.

“Can your fictional boys fuck you like this, baby?” he breathed, all deep and velvety as he gave you the most rhythmical skin-slapping thrusts. He was so deep in your cavern that you could feel the base of his cock slamming against your ass. You didn’t even notice the hand that was snaking on your front to massage your bouncing tit because you were far too lost in the shockwaves of sexual gratification. “No other man can fuck you this good.”

It was like he was riding his own bike. With how fast his pace was increasing, you were already too limp to feel his hard thrusts.

Your brain was short-circuiting from the amount of sensation that was entering your body, intoxicated by the waves of libido in your system that was heightening more and more as he continued to satisfy your insatiable heat. You could barely think straight. You lost your sanity. All the modest parts of you had completely dissolved into a bitch in heat. Like a needy little whore. You didn’t even have any control of your own words when you started telling Sukuna, “I… want… you to keep… fucking me… like this.” Another forceful slam elicited a mewl out of you. “A-Aah! Haah!”

“Shit, I’m gonna cum.” Your boyfriend held a tighter grip on your hips, your moaning face leaving an imprint on his mind as he propelled your body forward and raced towards his ecstasy. After yet another thrust or two, or three, or four… Spurts of warm seed started exploding into the rubber. Sukuna’s thrust had become unsteady, his body falling down on the bed but his member still remaining inside of you. “I can’t get enough of your pussy, baby.” 

You were catching your breath after he broke your mind into becoming this sex-obsessed freak. “Lookie! My bed’s all wet now.” 

He smiled and finally pulled out, only to lean down again and plant a soft kiss on your forehead. “Let me carry you to the couch,” he offered, but first he had to pull the condom out of his cock to reveal a cum-filled rubber. “Christ. I came a lot.” 

In other words, his cum would have been dripping out of your pussy for days.

You extended your arms, awaiting to be lifted like a princess by your lover. “Carry me now, please!”

“I will, baby.” Without hesitation, he scooped you up in his tattooed arms. He, too, was heavy breathing, but he still effortlessly held you. “I’ll take care of cleaning your sheets while you sleep.”

He was already walking towards the living room as you kicked your feet in the air, giving his cheek a gentle squeeze. “Can you clean out Casper’s litter box, too?”

Sukuna made a face of disgust, glancing at the cat before gently setting you down on the couch. “Only if he stops being an asshole,” he joked, but your pleading expression melted his resolve. “Alright, fine. I’ll take care of your bed, your cat’s litter... what else? You’re lucky I love you, you know.” He moved to the window, drawing the curtains closed to shield you from prying eyes. “Do you think your neighbors saw us fuck earlier? I forgot to pull the curtains on your bedroom.”

You laughed, pulling the sheets up to cover yourself. “Well, there’s this couple that’s been giving me strange looks lately, so it definitely isn’t the first time they’ve seen us do it.”

“It’s like that movie we watched,” Sukuna mused, trying to recall the title.

“The Voyeurs!” you both exclaimed in unison, sharing a laugh before you gestured to him. “Get dressed, lovey!”

Sukuna returned to tuck you in under the thin sheets, leaning down to give you a peck on the lips. “And you get some rest now, baby.”

~~

The morning sun filtered through the curtains as you woke up, stretching lazily in bed to find Casper purring next to you. That’s strange, you thought. Your cat normally wouldn’t go near you when your boyfriend was around, so you turned to your side, expecting to find Sukuna still sleeping beside you, but the spot was empty. Confused, you glanced around the room, noticing that his motorcycle gear was also missing from its usual place. 

“Lovey?” you called out through the empty apartment. “Where are you?” 

With no response received, you walked towards your bedroom and found the sheets had been changed and everything was tidy. Searching the bathroom yielded no clues to Sukuna’s whereabouts either. And a quick trip downstairs to check his usual parking spot confirmed your suspicion—he had left without a word. 

You frowned, reaching for your phone to send him an annoyed text.

YOU: love, where are you? 

YOU: i’m not some kind of booty call that you can just leave the next morning without a say

The minutes ticked by as you waited for a reply, feeling a mix of frustration and worry because of his absence. Were you overthinking this? Perhaps he was just out to get you lunch. Or maybe he had an emergency. You tried to calm yourself down by breathing deeply and thinking of any possible explanation other than the worst-case scenario. Maybe his phone died, or he got caught up in something urgent. But after an hour of no response, worry began to gnaw at you. Did he just ghost me? 

“Oh, God.” You paced back and forth in your apartment, checking your phone repeatedly for any sign of a message or call from Sukuna. “Oh, God. Oh, God! I’ve read about this a lot. Why are guys such jerks?” 

You tried to rationalize his absence, hoping for a reasonable explanation, but your mind persisted racing through various scenarios, with each one more disheartening than the last. Maybe he’d gotten tired of you, or perhaps he was scared of commitment. The frustration and confusion were almost unbearable. Was the sex last night not good enough for him? 

That situation lasted the entire afternoon. And you wanted to rip your hair out at the fact that your boyfriend had been gone for hours, his phone unreachable, and his friends having no idea where he was.  

So as the evening approached and your anxiety grew, you decided to call Sukuna again. It was the 47th missed call. But just as you were about to dial his number once more, you heard the familiar roar of his R1.

“What the hell.” You rushed to the window and saw your boyfriend pulling into the parking area. Relief flooded your system as you watched him switch off the engine, dismount his bike, and walk leisurely towards your apartment building’s lobby like he didn’t just leave an anxious girlfriend without a note the morning after he fucked her brains out.

You waited for him to arrive at your doorstep, your heart calmer but still ticking with anxiety as the clock rang in your ears. You were ready to give him a lashing for being unresponsive to your texts and calls. But as the door swung open, your boyfriend knowing your passcode by heart, you didn’t expect that your anger at him would end up being for a totally different reason. 

Because there he was, standing by your door looking slightly disheveled but with a sheepish smile on his face. He held a Barnes & Noble bag in one hand.

“Hey, baby—”

“What the heck happened?” You rushed to him, noticing the scrapes and bruises on his face. “Are you okay? I was worried sick!” 

Sukuna removed his helmet and winced slightly, the corner of his lower lip was smeared with dried blood. “Sorry, my love,” he spoke softly, going in for a comforting hug, “I wanted to surprise you, but things got a little complicated.” 

You pulled away to touch his bruised cheek. “You’re hurt. Why aren’t you answering my texts?” 

“Phone’s dead,” he answered, showing you his lifeless phone before handing over the bag. “And this is for you, my beautiful princess.”

Taking the bag, you said, “You didn’t have to do this.” Then your eyes scanned his face for any sign of serious injury.

“I wanted to,” he insisted, his voice filled with affection despite his exhaustion. “I’m sorry for making you worry.”

You eyed the Barnes & Noble bag, realizing that the book inside was the exact one you had mentioned wanting yesterday. Your emotions swirled in a mix of frustration and tenderness. Should you lecture him for being so reckless, or cry because of how romantic it was that he went out of his way to get the book you had been searching for?

But first and foremost, how and where did he get all those bruises?

Before you could ask, he already had an answer prepared. “Long story, baby. Let's just say I had a little run-in with another biker who had the same idea as me.”

You grabbed his hand and guided him to sit on the couch while you hurriedly fetched your first aid kit. As you tended to the scrapes on Sukuna’s face, Casper the cat approached cautiously, sniffing his scent before surprising both of you by leaning against your boyfriend’s leg.

“Meow~”

“Casper!” Sukuna exclaimed joyfully, picking up the cat with a playful flourish like how Rafiki carried Simba in The Lion King “Babe, he finally likes me!”

You rolled your eyes affectionately and joined Sukuna on the couch, gently tilting his chin to examine his bruise. “Tell me exactly what happened,” you asked with a hint of sternness, “You went all over town just for this book?”

Your boyfriend carefully set Casper back down and nodded. “Yeah, it’s the last one they had. Had to fight for it, though.” He then rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “I don’t even get a kiss or a thank you?”

At once, all your defenses crumbled. You let go of the gauze in your hand and pulled your boyfriend into a tender kiss, wrapping him in a warm hug afterward. “You’re insane, you know that? I was so worried about you, and now I find out you spent the whole day looking for this book.” You sighed, overwhelmed by the rollercoaster of emotions the day had brought. Despite everything, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of love for the man who had gone to such lengths to make you happy. “But thank you, lovey. That’s really sweet of you.”

Sukuna, now grinning broadly, held you closer around the waist. “Always welcome, my baby.”

“Now, tell me about that biker,” you began, taking a q-tip and some ointment, “How’d you get into a fight?” 

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe it,” he recalled, amused at the thought, “He was going to get the book for his girl, too. But I got there first, and he wouldn’t let me have it.” 

Jesus. You couldn’t decide whether to laugh or sigh at the absurdity of two bikers squabbling over a book in a bookstore. “You should’ve just let him have it.” 

“But baby!” he protested like a child, “I couldn’t come home empty-handed. I already feel bad we didn’t get to pass by the bookstore yesterday.” 

What a stubborn boyfriend you have. “I already told you it’s okay, lovey. You’re the best boyfriend already. I appreciate the effort and I’m even more in love with you now than ever,” you reassured, placing a light kiss on the tip of his nose, “Now, is there anything I can give you in return? As a thank you?” 

Oh, boy. You already assumed he would request for something concerning activities in bed. But his face suddenly lit up as if a lightbulb just appeared above his head. His idea was surely not what you had in mind. 

“How about I teach you how to ride my bike?” 

~~

The sun hung low on the horizon as Sukuna stood beside his Yamaha R1, patiently explaining the basics of riding ‘Fury’ to you. He seemed to be heavily enjoying this whole thing. Meanwhile, you, donning a helmet and gloves, were fully geared up, nervousness evident as you cautiously swung your leg over the bike.

“Ah, dammit.” Your boyfriend was grinning like an idiot as he saw you sitting on his bike. “You’re gonna be one hot biker girl. I can’t! You’re mine. Don’t let them see you like this, babe!” 

“Stop exaggerating!” you retorted, your voice tense with nerves as you gripped the handlebars tightly. “This bike feels… big.” 

“Like my cock?”

“Stop it.”

Sukuna erupted into a chuckle before proceeding to move closer to you. “Alright, babe. Remember what I showed you about the clutch and throttle control,” he encouraged, “Take it slow.”

Nodding, you started the bike and felt the powerful engine rumble beneath you. With your boyfriend’s guidance, you eased out the clutch and gave a tentative twist of the throttle. The bike lurched forward, causing you to panic and squeeze the brakes hard. 

“Oh, my God!” You let out a squeak of surprise. “Oh, my God! I’m gonna die.” 

“Easy there.” He held your waist protectively. “Let’s try one more time?” 

You took a deep breath, trying to ignore the intimidating power of the machine beneath you and instead focus on Sukuna’s instructions. Even with his guidance, you found yourself repeating the same mistake where this time, you braked too hard again, causing your body to jolt forward dangerously. You would have fallen from the bike if not for your boyfriend catching you right on time.

“I can’t do this…” You shook your head, frantically. “I’m not cut out for this.”

Sukuna held you steady, his hands firm yet reassuring. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said softly, looking into your eyes. “It takes time, alright? You’re doing fine. Maybe we should start with something smaller.”

You let out a heavy exhale as Sukuna carried you off his bike. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Like a lower cc bike?” he suggested, giving your helmet a playful tap. “Let’s start you off on a 150cc bike. Yuuji has a CBR150R we can borrow.”

“I wouldn’t want to wreck your nephew’s bike,” you teased, watching from the side as Sukuna effortlessly mounted his own bike.

He revved the engine and reached out for your hand, helping you settle in behind him. “Then, you can just stay being my backpack princess for now”

With your arms securely around his waist, the bike accelerated, the wind whipping against your helmet visor. The view of the sunset was perfect for this ride. “So, does that mean I’m not your ride or die anymore?”

Sukuna took your hand from behind, lifting it to his lips for a kiss. “Nah. You’ll always be my ride or die, baby.”

[plutotheplum]

Keep My Hand in Yours

emperor!zayne x concubine!reader - read part 1!

summary: the emperor is intent on convincing you that you are worthy enough to be his empress.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, fluff, oral sex, vaginal fingering, p in v, praise kink, throne sex, spanking

wc: 6.9k

a/n: part 2 is finally here! thank you for all the sweet comments, i cherish them all!! <3 umm... i do plan on adding some more parts to this series... so yeah, i hope you enjoy! :)

also on ao3!

“She is not with child.”

Zayne’s stern voice cuts through the chatter of his advisors, his fingers tapping against the arm of his throne irritatedly. The drone of voices silences, his advisors lowering their heads in respect.

You stand off to the side, playing with the sleeves of your robes nervously. Perhaps you’d been a little naive to think the advisors would have been accepting of your blossoming relationship with the Emperor. 

Word had spread throughout the palace, and most likely throughout the entire Empire about the new developments that had taken place overnight. The guards had heard you of course, their eyes averted and cheeks flushed pink when Zayne had held your hand and led you out of his chambers.

An unforeseen turn in events, and you had somehow excelled past the advisors’ expectations, garnering the Emperor’s affection for you. Whilst a small number of the Emperor’s advisors were pleased, the majority were not. Standing before them, you can see the disdain on their faces, the hatred that belies their thin smiles. Jealousy is above all however, for their own daughters were once placed forth as noble matches for the Emperor. 

You jolt out of your thoughts when an Imperial guard takes your arm, moving you to stand before the Emperor. Zayne looks down at you, and you can spy the slight softening of his eyes as he watches you bow to him.

“As I have said,” Zayne repeats, “she is not with child.”

“Forgive me, your majesty,” a voice speaks out from behind you, “how can she not be with child? We- we have heard of what occurred.”

Zayne motions for you to spin around, and you do as he wants. You now face his entire court, advisors gathered in hours of the early morning. It was the grand chancellor who spoke, a tall man, his face gaunt. You remember he had served Zayne’s father before he had passed.

“We are both not ready for children,” Zayne explains, “I had the palace physician brew a tea under my command.”

It was true. You had both spoken about the matter, and you simply could not handle carrying a child so soon. Zayne had agreed, snuck you out through the passages in the middle of the night, and had taken you to the palace physician. The brewing of such teas was not unheard of, but certainly not an accepted occurrence, although perhaps more commonly used among the nobility.

“I see…” the grand chancellor says slowly, his gaze fixating on you.

You want to shrink away, somehow hide behind the safety of the Emperor, but you cannot. Instead, you shift on the spot, averting your gaze to the floor as though you were not the very object of interest of this gathering.

“And you intend to continue this foolish endeavor?” 

Your head snaps up at the harsh words, gaze settling on the new voice that had spoken out. A lower ranking official judging by the coloring of his robes, his eyes narrowing as he stares at you.

“It appears you forget yourself,” the Emperor replies coolly. 

“Or perhaps you forget yourself, your majesty,” the official spits, stepping forward, “you would ruin the image of your rule to marry some… some lowly concubine?”

The murmurs of the other members of court are hard to ignore, hushed whispers breaking out at the official’s blatant show of disrespect towards the Emperor.

“And was it not this very court that decided to gather concubines without my knowledge?”

“For child bearing!” the official hisses, pointing his finger towards you accusingly, “not for marriage!”

You swallow harshly at the viciousness of his words, biting back the insults that threaten to spill out. Retaliation in such a meeting would only support the official’s cause. 

“She will be your Empress,” Zayne says calmly, “if you seek to insult my future wife yet again, I will have you removed immediately.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks when he affirms that you’ll be his wife. It may not be the best time, but the light flush covers your cheeks and you try to stop the pull of your lips, a smile threatening to spread across your face.

“If you think I- we will stand for such insolence, you are sorely mistaken, your majesty” the official snarls.

A bitter laugh echoes through the throne room. 

“Be grateful that I am not my father,” Zayne murmurs, “for he would have had your head. Remove your seal.”

The official sputters, looking around at the rest of the court members wildly. Most avoid his eyes, others unconsciously touching their own seals through the fabric of their robes.

You flinch when the official removes his Imperial seal angrily, tossing the little silver square at your feet.

“You have poisoned his mind,” he accuses heatedly, face reddened from his outburst, “and you should do well to remember your station.”

Irritation pricks at your skin, your teeth gritting together. You were well aware of your station, of your status and how you’re perceived. The incessant reminders aren’t doing well to calm your frayed nerves, brows pulling together as you glare at the official. 

“Bow to her.”

The rules of nobility have been set in place for longer than you could possibly know, and yet Zayne seems insistent on breaking them. It’s bold, even for him, to demand such a thing. You turn, shooting him a look, subtly shaking your head. There’s a hint of a smile on the Emperor’s face, as though enjoying this confrontation.

“I- I will do no such thing!” the official protests.

“You have already lost your seal and your position and you still will not do as I say?” Zayne murmurs, leaning forward in his throne.

You watch with wide eyes when the official does bow to you, the upper half of his body lowering. Another round of hushed whispers passes through the room, and you can feel the grand chancellor’s eyes boring into you. His authority was only second to the Emperor, the only man who held a real chance of changing Zayne’s mind.

“Good,” Zayne says, leaning back on his throne, “now leave us.”

The throne room clears out immediately, until you’re the only one remaining. You smile at him, stepping between his legs until you’re standing in front of him.

“I did not take you for a tyrant,” you tease, brushing his hair out of his face.

“And I did not know that protecting my future wife made me a tyrant,” Zayne muses, his arms wrapping around your waist.

He tugs you closer, his head falling forward to rest against your stomach, face burying itself in your robes. A soft sigh leaves you, fingers running through his loose hair, scratching at his scalp lightly.

“Tired?” you ask, arm wrapping around his neck.

The Emperor nods against your stomach, trying to press his face deeper. A laugh escapes you at his needy behavior, your hand managing to cup his jaw to bring him out of his hiding place. 

“The affairs of state have become bothersome,” Zayne says, peering up at you.

“Oh? You did not seem to mind before.”

“Playing coy?” Zayne smiles faintly, tugging you forward until you stumble and land on his lap.

“Hardly,” you whisper, pressing yourself closer as your hands curl into his robes.

The Emperor leans back on his throne, his hands kneading at your hips. You chase after him, eyes fluttering shut as you press your lips against his. Zayne lets out a low noise, drawing you closer, his hand sliding up your back as you kiss. The memory from last night is still fresh, the feeling of his hands on your body ingrained in your mind. 

“I cannot have enough of you,” he whispers, lips brushing over yours.

“You- you ought to rest,” you gasp, tilting your head to let him kiss down the length of your neck.

Zayne kisses your sternum, and back up your neck before he sighs and tucks his face into the crook of your neck. You hold him close, hand smoothing over his hair gently.

“I have made things difficult for you,” you say quietly.

He shakes his head, squeezing your waist reassuringly. 

“I have become complacent,” he murmurs, “simply letting others do as they please.”

You kiss his forehead when he lifts his head, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks. Exhaustion mars the Emperor’s face, his eyes looking sunken and dull. The sudden gathering of his court appears to have drained his energy.

“I shall have to gather them again,” Zayne says, “the trade agreements need attention.”

A smile settles on your face when he kisses your cheeks gently, his hands petting your sides. You move off of his lap, standing up with him reluctantly. Reaching out, you fix his hair and his robes that you had held onto earlier. 

“Finish, then retire to your chambers to rest,” you instruct, patting his chest.

Zayne laughs, his head dipping down to kiss you. You return the kiss eagerly, pulling apart with a few sweet, little pecks to his lips.

“You are already acting like a doting wife,” he whispers.

You flush when he says that, looking away. It’s still hard to get over the fact that Zayne, the Emperor, wants to marry you of all people. The thought of it all makes your palms sweaty, cheeks hot and heart race. There’s a whirlwind upon you, Zayne, tearing apart your preconceived notions of the Empire. 

“I want to dote on you.”

The words tumble from your lips, soft and vulnerable. You’ve never felt this way about a man, never had a man pay attention to you, never been touched by a man before him. It’s as though the Emperor’s expressions are always tender in the way he gazes at you. You’ve never known what it’s like to be in love, but if it’s like this, so startlingly soft and sickeningly sweet, you fear you may be lost in him forever. 

“I- I just meant-” you begin to correct yourself, fidgeting with your robes.

“I know what you meant,” Zayne says softly, his hands finding yours.

Your breath catches in your throat when he lifts your hands to his mouth, his thumbs running over your skin soothingly. Zayne keeps his eyes on you as he kisses across your knuckles, squeezing your hands gently after. 

“I said I take care of what’s mine,” he continues, drawing you close, “and you are mine now.”

You nod jerkily, shoving your face into his chest. The Emperor hums, stroking your hair slowly. Unfortunately, you don’t get to bask in his embrace for any longer, a guard announcing the arrival of a messenger.

“Rest,” you remind him, planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

Zayne nods, squeezing your waist before allowing you to draw away. 

-

The other girls crowd around you immediately when you enter your chambers, their expressions sly and knowing as they tug you towards the middle of the room, soft giggles filling the air.

“Well?” one of them asks, eyes wide with curiosity. 

“Well what?” you ask, feigning innocence.

A chorus of complaints breaks out.

“Stop being shy!”

“We tell you our stories!”

“You must tell us!”

One of the girls reaches for you, her arm hooking with yours. She leans down, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers conspiratorially.

“Was the Emperor well-endowed?”

“Oh, stop it!”

- 

The grand chancellor has been lurking in the hallways.

You’d noticed the tall man when you had left to make some tea, but after a considerable amount of time, he was still there. The cold breeze outside should’ve been enough to deter him, but you’ve figured he must be intent on speaking to you.

To be frank, you aren’t in the mood for another confrontation just days later from the disastrous court meeting that had occurred. It’s why you hold your breath as you sneak out from your chambers, feet padding against the floor lightly as you try to slip past the grand chancellor’s turned back.

“Will you avoid me for much longer?” he calls out. 

You wince, halting in place. The grand chancellor cannot be avoided forever, you suppose.

“Come along,” he says, his fingers motioning for you to follow him.

You do as he says begrudgingly, following after the grand chancellor. To your surprise, he leads you into the gardens rather than a private room. Snow is yet to fall today, autumn soon drawing to a close in a few weeks. You wipe the fallen leaves that have landed on a nearby bench, sitting down after the grand chancellor does.

It’s suffocatingly awkward, your fingers playing with each other agitatedly as he simply sits next to you, looking out at the plants and trees that make up the gardens. You realize it would be a foolish idea to let your guard down around him. The grand chancellor hadn’t reprimanded Zayne during that meeting and yet you remember the way he had been staring at you. His intentions are hard to discern, his loyalties to the Emperor and the Emperor alone. 

“Much like his father, his majesty is stubborn,” the grand chancellor says, “I have had the pleasure of knowing both men since they were children.”

“I see,” you murmur, peeking a glance at him.

You don’t know why he’s telling you this, half-expecting the man to begin berating you for becoming so close to Zayne. 

“I shall be frank,” he sighs, turning to face you, “I did not expect the Emperor to become so… enamored by you.”

“I did not expect it either,” you grumble defensively.

“His majesty is an intelligent man. He knows of the consequences and yet seems intent on taking you to wed.”

“Consequences?” you echo.

“Political alliances are frail,” he explains, picking up a fallen leaf and examining it, “marriage is the easiest way to prevent a war between regions.”

“We have not been at war for years!” you protest, shaking your head.

“And we will not be for many more,” the grand chancellor assures you, “I am simply warning you of what may come when you are Empress.”

You don’t understand the politics of the Empire, have never been privy to such things. The grand chancellor only adds to the confusion and uncertainty that has been brewing inside your mind. 

“I thought you would dissuade him,” you say quietly.

“The boy deserves happiness,” the grand chancellor murmurs, standing up, “if he wishes to be with you, then I will allow it.” He peers down at you, his lips thinning. “Take caution, child. Envy drives men to madness. The nobility may hide behind their bloodlines, but a cesspool festers within.”

The grand chancellor hands you the withered leaf.

“Loyalties change as the seasons do.”

- 

A week later, the Emperor finds you in the gardens, sitting under a tree.

“You have not come to see me,” Zayne says, sitting down beside you.

“I did not want to trouble you,” you reply.

You reach for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. The Emperor’s fingers are stained with ink, streaks of black covering his pale skin. Zayne’s arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against his side.

“The grand chancellor is worried.”

“I surmised as much,” the Emperor sighs, his fingers playing with your robes.

You peer up at him, and Zayne leans down, dropping a kiss to your forehead. There’s a part of you that can’t help but feel you’re putting him in a position that he normally wouldn’t be in if he had simply chosen to marry someone of higher status.

“Do you truly wish to marry me?” you ask quietly, averting your gaze.

“Have I told you otherwise?” Zayne asks in return, his fingers gripping your chin to turn your head so that your eyes meet his again.

The tenderness in his eyes is overwhelming. You feel as though you’re drowning, swallowed up by his irises and his honest gaze. Things would’ve been far simpler if he were someone less important, but you can’t imagine Zayne being anything other than the Emperor, for it would be a disservice to the Empire.

You shift, standing up before settling your hands on his broad shoulders, straddling him as you climb up onto his lap. It’s improper to act so brazenly, but you’ve done far more improper things with him, acted far more brazenly in his presence. The Emperor grunts as you settle yourself on his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.

“I am not fit to be your Empress,” you whisper.

Zayne doesn’t say anything for a moment, his hand simply rubbing up and down your back soothingly. Your throat is tight and you can feel your lips trembling. You don’t want to cry, but you can’t help it when a sniffle escapes you.

“And you think I am fit to be Emperor?” he whispers, “I am only here because of my father and his father before him and so on.”

“But you are the Emperor,” you insist, voice quavering, “I could not possibly-”

“Forget about nonsensical titles,” Zayne murmurs, his hands cupping your cheeks as his thumbs wipe away the hot tears that have begun to roll down your cheeks, “I meant every word I said that night.”

“B- but-” 

“But nothing,” the Emperor soothes, staring into your eyes intently, “I would sooner have no one than not have you.”

“You are the worst,” you say tearily, pushing at his chest weakly. 

“Ah, I am sure,” he says, a small smile spreading across his face.

The Emperor cradles your head, tilting it to his will as he kisses away the fresh tears that wet your cheeks. He doesn’t stop there, his lips dragging over your skin gently. The Emperor kisses your brows, your closed eyelids, the tip of your nose, every inch of your face that is bared to him.

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

You kiss him gently and Zayne smooths his thumbs over your cheeks, deepening the kiss as he presses his lips against yours firmly. A soft whine leaves you, letting his tongue lick over the seam of your lips before he licks into your mouth, tongue delving deep. The Emperor kisses you as though trying to convince you of his words, as though to make you stay. 

“I want to show you something,” Zayne says, his forehead pressing against yours. You nod, moving to stand up. Zayne doesn’t let you, instead hauling you up into his arms and standing up. A surprised squeak bubbles out of you when you realize the Emperor is carrying you.

“Zayne!” you protest, “Zayne, people will see!”

Zayne only tightens his grip when you begin to squirm, brushing a kiss to your forehead to calm your ministrations.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, people do see. You try to shrink in his grasp, pressing yourself into his chest as the palace staff pause their duties to watch with wide eyes as the Emperor carries you out of the gardens. Some are unable to stop their jaws from slackening, others beginning to point and whisper amongst themselves.

The Emperor hardly bats an eye, his stride strong and purposeful as he carries you through the hallways and courtyards. It’s a statement in and of itself. 

You spy the smirk on an Imperial guard’s face when he opens up the doors to the throne room, your eyes narrowing when the man sends you a wink. The doors slam shut with a resounding thud, leaving only you and Zayne inside.

“Zayne- Zayne, no!” you hiss, hands scrabbling at his shoulders when you realize what he’s doing. 

Your legs kick out, trying to somehow climb up the Emperor’s tall frame. It’s futile against his strength, his hands manhandling you until he sets you down on his throne. If he doesn’t punish you for it, you fear the Heavens will. 

“Stay,” the Emperor says, pushing at your shoulders when you try to shoot up from where you’re sitting, “I command it.”

You sit in place rigidly, back straight. There are centuries of history that make up this throne, and you can’t help but feel that you are somehow dishonoring it all by sitting here. 

“What are you-” your brows furrowing when he suddenly begins to bend.

Fingers digging into the arms of the throne, you feel as though you might faint as you watch the Emperor bow to you before sinking to his knees. Zayne stares up at you expectantly, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

“G- get up!” you whisper heatedly.

There’s no one here, but you can only imagine the severity of the consequences if someone were to stumble in here and find the Emperor on his knees for you.

“Command it,” he says, looking perfectly content in his current position.

“No one can command the Emperor!”

“I will not move unless you exert your authority,” Zayne says simply.

Your eye twitches at his insistence, at his own brazenness. 

“Say it,” he coaxes gently, “say it and I will stand.”

“I-” your breath catches in your throat awkwardly. You flush when Zayne nods his head encouragingly, your voice breathy when you begin to speak again. “I c-command you to stand.”

“Very good,” he murmurs, standing up and moving towards you.

Zayne smiles at you, his head dipping to crash his lips onto yours, his hands braced on the arms of his throne. You gasp, arms wrapping around his neck as he kisses you fiercely. The Emperor continues his onslaught of kisses, dragging his lips down your neck as his fingers pull free the knot holding your robes together.

“You think your station determines your worth,” Zayne whispers, his teeth scraping your shoulder, “but this- you are worth more to me than the finest jade.”

“Stop,” you whisper, eyes slipping shut, “you must stop speaking like that. It does awful things to my heart.”

He laughs softly, kissing between your breasts. You bite your lip as his mouth envelops your breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple. His teeth catch on it, tugging playfully before letting it pop free as he switches breasts. You run your fingers through his long hair, head tipping back against the throne as your body convulses.

The Emperor holds you in place, letting his tongue lave over your areola, his half-lidded eyes peering up at you to catch your reactions. You give him a weak smile and Zayne moans around your breast, his hand squeezing at the fat of your other breast.

Your dazed eyes watch as he kisses down your body, kissing your hip then your navel. He sinks to his knees once again, and you can’t find it in yourself to reprimand him, lost in the haze of lust and love. Zayne kisses the curls of hair on your mound, his hands gripping your calves to help guide your legs over his shoulders.

“I have missed this,” he whispers, his thumbs pulling apart your folds.

“As have I,” you sigh.

You moan when Zayne licks up a stripe over your cunt, collecting your arousal on his tongue. He rests his cheek against your thigh, watching intently as your aching hole clenches around nothing, watching as more slick drips from you.

“Stop staring,” you mumble, pushing at his head gently.

“I enjoy the sight,” he says in return.

Your thighs twitch when he pushes the hood of your clit up a little more, exposing the swollen bud. Zayne groans, kissing the inside of your thigh firmly before licking over your cunt again. A strangled gasp rips out of your throat, hands tightening in his hair as he sucks your clit into his mouth.

“Z- Zayne- ah- hah!” 

A soft whimper escapes when he kisses your clit, his fingers dimpling into the flesh of your thighs harshly. Zayne pulls you to the edge of the throne, his face burying deeper as he groans again, drinking down your slick. 

You squeal when he fucks his tongue into you, body shaking uncontrollably as you fist his hair tighter. He hisses against your cunt, renewing his efforts. You can feel his mouth opening wider, trying to consume you whole, licking and sucking desperately at every inch of velvety, sensitive flesh he can reach.

His nose rubs against your clit, and you’re seeing stars. The Emperor makes an obscene noise and you can feel his tongue moving inside of you, the feeling making your thighs clamp around his head. 

“Have- have you ever put your fingers inside of yourself?” he asks, raising his head.

You shake your head, watching as his fingers stroke over your clit lovingly, his mouth pressing open-mouthed kisses to your knee.

“May I?” the Emperor whispers, his finger prodding at your hole.

You give him a jerky nod, legs falling apart a little more for him. He smiles up at you, his finger sinking into you slowly. You whimper at the sensation, clenching around his finger. Zayne adds another soon after, and you’re panting desperately, hips bucking as he curls them inside of you. 

“The scroll said to do something like this,” he mutters under his breath.

“You- oh- you read a scroll?” you grit out.

“It was quite informative,” Zayne murmurs, beginning to move his fingers.

“Why must you be so- ah!” 

You don’t get to finish your sentence, your knuckles turning white as you grip the throne for stability as he latches his mouth back onto your clit, his fingers thrusting in and out of you. The heat inside your stomach grows more intense with each flick of his tongue, his teeth scraping against your sensitive flesh for good measure.

Moans have begun to fill the air, and you can’t find it in yourself to care anymore, letting go completely. You guide his head to where you want him, toes curling against his back, crumpling his silk robes. Zayne’s mouth works with his fingers diligently, his fingers crooking up a little more to graze the spot where you need it most.

You peek down to see the pink flush on his cheeks and your back arches, his name leaving your mouth in a cry as you come on his fingers and his tongue. The Emperor moans as you writhe, his fingers moving in and out of you a couple more times before freeing them from your clenching walls.

Chest heaving, you pant, slumping back in the throne as he kisses across your puffy folds and sensitive cunt. Your thighs twitch a little when he peppers soft, little kisses against your clit and you can’t help but think the man has an obsession with its ability to bring you such pleasure.

The Emperor kisses up your body and you cup his jaw, kissing him sweetly.

“I fear this throne may be ruined,” you whisper against his lips.

He laughs, his nose nudging yours gently, “I recall promising to take you on it.”

“Before that,” you stand up on shaky legs, pushing at his chest until he sits back on his throne.

Adoration glimmers in his eyes, watching as your loose robes slip from your shoulders, pooling at your feet. You stand bare before the Emperor, and you catch the slight spreading of his thighs to relieve the ache of his cock.

This time it’s you that’s sinking to your knees, pulling his robes free. The muscles of his abdomen clench when you run your fingers down his chest, his hand coming up to cover his flushed face.

“Why are you shy now?” you accuse, pouting up at him.

His thighs twitch when you curl your hand around his cock and you can feel the throb of his fat, hot length. 

“You do not have to-” he whispers when he sees your head dip.

“I want to,” you say stubbornly.

Zayne nods in acquiescence, moaning when you begin to drag your hand up and down his cock. It’s a little intimidating when you stare at it up close, but you swallow down your worries, leaning forward to kiss the tip experimentally.

His cock twitches in response, pre-cum beading at the tip. Your tongue darts out, licking up the little glob, feeling the taste of him spread across your tongue.

“Zayne,” you whisper, breath fanning over his cock, “Zayne, you must watch me.”

The Emperor groans at your lilting voice, his eyes opening the moment your mouth envelops him. His hips buck and you nearly seize up at the feeling of the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You mewl around him, breathing through your nose, tongue swirling before your head begins to bob up and down.

“Fuck,” Zayne hisses, his fingers spreading across your scalp, “my love, you are devious.”

You hum in response, pulling off of his cock in favor of giving more attention to the tip of it. You swirl your tongue, tongue flicking at the flared head and it’s enough to make Zayne whine, his thighs spreading wider for you. 

“Can you take it deeper?” he asks, his fingers trailing down the curve of your cheek.

“I shall try,” you murmur, mouth opening for him.

He hooks his thumb into the corner of his mouth, cupping your chin before his thumb spreads over the flat of your tongue. You smile, eyes flashing with mischievousness as you suck his thumb into your mouth, tongue flicking against the pad of it. 

Zayne shoots you a searing look and you watch as he grips the base of his cock. He drags the tip of his cock against your closed lips, entranced as he watches his pre-cum smears across your lips. His other hand presses at the back of your head and your mouth opens again, letting him guide his cock into your mouth.

“Just like that,” he whispers, “good girl.”

You can feel arousal shooting through you at the praise, slick pooling between your thighs yet again. The ache is so unbearable that you shove your hand between your thighs, rubbing at your clit.

The Emperor pushes your head gently and you go willingly, slurping and sucking around his thick cock. Saliva drips from your mouth, coating his cock and his balls, strings of it landing on the edge of his throne. You rub at your clit faster, eyes fluttering as he brushes your loose hair away from your face.

“A- ah,” Zayne rasps, “hah- my love.”

The term of endearment is enough to have you taking it upon yourself to sink down his cock even more. The tufts of his black hair hit your nose for a moment, but you’re inexperienced and you’ve overestimated your own abilities. The feeling of his cock filling your throat is too much, and you choke, throat seizing, causing you to pull off with a hoarse cough as your eyes water.

Concern flits across Zayne’s face, his thumb swiping over your swollen lips. You give him a watery smile, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He sighs in relief when he sees you’re okay, leaning forward to place a tender kiss to your lips.

“So willful,” the Emperor murmurs.

He slides his hands under your armpits, picking you up and setting you down on his lap.

“I can do it again,” you mumble, gaze lowering to see his cock pressed between your bodies.

Zayne smiles, petting at your sides, “as much as I enjoyed the feeling, I cannot have my darling choking on my cock.”

“I was not choking,” you whine, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“If you insist,” Zayne soothes, “but when we are married, I will have many more opportunities to watch you swallow my cock.”

The Emperor’s constant promise of marriage has your heart lurching and you lean forward, crushing your lips against his. He grunts in surprise at your sudden action but returns the kiss just as eagerly, squeezing at your hips.

You whine into his mouth, his hair tickling your skin as he presses forward, his hips rolling up into yours. You can feel his hard cock between your thighs, the length dragging between your folds. 

Zayne groans at the sensation, his head falling back and you take the opportunity to kiss down his neck, rolling your hips wantonly, your nails digging into his broad shoulders.

“Who are you?” he whispers, groping the fat of your ass.

“W- what?” you pull back, confusion spreading across your face.

The Emperor guides your hips to continue moving, your folds hugging his cock as you grind against it.

“Who are you?” Zayne asks again, “your title, what is it?”

Pleasure has made your mind hazy, and you can’t discern whether he’s playing a game of some sort with his questions, or whether he’s suffering from some sort of untimely amnesia.

“Your concubine,” you reply, “I thought-”

You jolt in his arms when he suddenly lands a heavy spank to your ass, his eyes narrowing when he hears your answer.

“Incorrect,” Zayne murmurs, his hand squeezing your ass in warning.

“I am your concubine- ah!”

Zayne shakes his hand, spanking you twice. You can feel the prickly heat spread across your skin, the pain searing. You glare up at him, and he smiles back, his hand smoothing over your reddened backside. 

“Who are you, my love?” he whispers, his nose nudging yours.

Oh. Oh. 

The Emperor’s insistence is a remarkable thing, you think. He may be even more stubborn than you are. Zayne’s fingers tapping against your cheek brings you out of your thoughts, your eyes meeting his. 

“I- I am your Empress,” you say quietly.

“Precisely.”

Zayne slots his lips over yours and you mewl, your hips beginning to rock again, inner thighs wet with your slick and his pre-cum smeared over his abdomen. He kisses you over and over until you’re short of breath and your lips are swollen and slick with his spit.

“Will you take my cock, my love?” 

“Y- yes,” you say airily, lifting your hips as he grips the base of his cock, “please.”

Zayne squeezes your hip, watching as you bite your lip and sink down on his cock. His cock is just as girthy as you remember, filling up your needy hole perfectly. Your body falls forward at the feeling and Zayne kisses your cheek, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“Always take my cock so well,” he praises.

Your hands plant themselves against his chest as your head tips back, taking what you want from him. Hips rising and falling, airy moans filling the air, you ride the Emperor. Zayne moans with you, his hands kneading at the flesh of your sides before drifting to take handfuls of your ass too.

“So good,” you slur, the force of your movements increasing, “feels so good, Zayne.”

“I know,” Zayne whispers, watching the bounce and sway of your breasts as you move atop him, “use me, my love.”

You do as he says, using him to drive yourself further to the edge of pleasure. The sounds filling the throne room are lewd, the clap of skin echoing throughout coupled with your shared noises.

Your thighs burn as you roll your hips, taking his cock deeper into the heat of your cunt, feeling it punch into the most sensitive spot inside of you. It’s too much, the mind-numbing sensations and your own body tiring with every movement.

You slump against him, hips slowing to a pitiful stop, his fat cock still stuffed inside of you. It twitches and you whimper, peering up at Zayne desperately.

“Husbands should take care of their wives,” you mumble, lips pressing against his.

“But we are not yet married,” he whispers teasingly. 

Zayne kisses you slowly, his hand sliding up your neck and stopping to cup your cheek. He molds you to his will, maneuvering your body as he sees fit, grabbing at every inch of flesh he can reach.

“But I am yours,” you say earnestly, “and I will be yours till the day I die.”

“You will, won’t you?” Zayne smiles, drawing you closer, “nothing makes me happier, my dear.”

You wail when he suddenly ruts up into you, balls slapping against your ass as he tightens his grip to bounce you up and down on his lap. Your hands lose their holds on his shoulders, scrabbling for stability until you find purchase on the top of his throne. 

The Emperor is fucking you on his throne. 

You try to feel some sense of mortification, but you can’t, the feeling of his cock erasing all sensible thoughts from your mind. Zayne slaps your ass and you squeak, body falling forward even more. Your breasts press into his face and you whine when he mouths at them, sucking a hardened nipple into his mouth.

The Emperor’s name leaves your mouth in a pleading chant and he answers your needs, pulling you down until your cunt is flush with the base of his cock, pussy swallowing up his length completely. Zayne slows to a grind, keeping his cock stuffed inside of you. 

You curl an arm around his neck, hugging him closer to your breasts and Zayne groans, his mouth opening wider to try and take in your entire breast. He stares up at you, the flush on his cheeks deepened and eyes so, so soft. 

Your lips slot over his as soon as his mouth detaches from your breast, your lips working against his slowly and sweetly, hips swaying back to meet the slow thrusts of his hips.

“You have ruined me,” you confess, cheek resting on his shoulder.

“Better it be me than some other man,” he whispers.

You agree with him on that. Zayne has given you far more than you could’ve possibly dreamed, the twist of fate bringing you something, or rather, someone to cherish.

“You are everything, Zayne.”

He groans at your bold words, his head falling back against his throne. You come undone in slow waves, body trembling as he comes with you, his cock kicking inside of you as hot cum spurts from the tip, filling you up. You can feel the thickness of it, cum spilling into you for a few moments longer as your hips slow to a stop.

You both breathe heavily, his chest moving under yours. A thin sheen of sweat covers your bodies, robes forgotten as they lie at the foot of the throne. 

A soft smile graces your lips as you move his hair out of his eyes, tilting his head to kiss his forehead.

“You spoil me,” Zayne mutters, nuzzling into your palm.

“I think it is the other way around,” you laugh breathlessly.

He sighs, slumping in his throne, his cock still inside of you. You can feel it softening, no longer plugging you full as cum begins to leak out from your pussy.

“I may need more tea,” you whisper.

Zayne huffs in amusement, his fingers collecting his viscous cum. He smears it across your pussy, his fingers catching onto your clit as he rubs his cum onto the little bud. He lifts his hand to your mouth and you accept eagerly, staring into his eyes as you suck his fingers clean of cum.

“Minx,” he mutters.

You giggle, kissing the pads of his fingers affectionately, shifting to sit on his thigh. Zayne smiles in return, his hands massaging your sore thighs. He kisses your cheek a few times, peppers a few kisses here and there over your shoulder.

“Feeling better?” Zayne asks, nuzzling your cheek.

“Much,” you whisper, smiling up at him, “but I fear I may not be able to walk.”

“Shall I carry you again?” the Emperor whispers.

You roll your eyes, prodding your fingers into his chest, “I did not enjoy that.”

“Lying is punishable by death.”

“You are insufferable,” you whisper.

Zayne leans forward for another kiss, but you deny him, slipping off of his lap. He laughs when your thighs tremble, reaching out to catch you by the waist before your knees buckle.

He tugs you onto his lap, thwarting your escape as he kisses you again. You think you won’t be leaving this place anytime soon.

-

Zayne doesn’t think there’s anything more beautiful in this world than when you’re sleeping. 

The slow rise and fall of your chest, the sweet innocence of your face, your hair splayed against the pillows, the gods must favor him for they’ve sent him a vision.

He smiles as he watches you stir in your sleep, brushing away the hair that’s fallen onto your face. Zayne can’t resist leaning closer, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek, feeling your soft skin under his.

Zayne likes it when you smile, when you glare, the way you protest against his subtle teases. He’s never met someone as endearing as you, never bothered to take interest in another until you came along with that tray of tea clutched in your hands. He hasn’t told you about how his own heart flutters at the mere thought of you, and doesn’t think he will. He’d be better off showing you instead.

Above all, he remembers when you’d stumbled into his chambers, your flustered disposition as you’d apologized. He’d been lonely before you, trapped in a dull existence with others meandering through his life without purpose.

But you’ve changed things now. He feels free when he hears your laugh, the light in your eyes warming him from within. The world around him seems brighter, sparks of color appearing in places he had never seen before. 

You had painted the world for him.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Attention || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

Summary: literally tit obsessed!rafe fawning over readers boobs

Warnings: mention of birth control, swearing, slightly suggestive?

Word count: 851

MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

“He’s just so infuriating!” you vent, your voice sharp as you pull your hair into a messy bun, the motion jerky with irritation. You couldn’t sit still, pacing back and forth across the deck, your mind racing. Rafe was lounging in one of the chairs, his relaxed posture a stark contrast to your bubbling frustration.

His eyes followed you with quiet intensity, but he wasn’t as focused on your words as you wanted him to be. “He knew I was going to tell Mom and Dad about it,” you continue, voice rising. “But no, he just had to stick his nose in my business and tell them first!” You were fuming, your hands gesturing wildly as you ranted about your brother’s constant meddling.

Rafe barely responded, his gaze more intent on your figure than the content of your words. He watched the way your shoulders tensed, how your movements betrayed just how worked up you were, but he wasn’t truly listening. His mind was elsewhere, his lips twitching up into that familiar lazy smile as his eyes drifted over you.

“Rafe, baby, are you even listening?” you snap, suddenly stopping in your tracks, hands on your hips. You glared at him, expecting some kind of acknowledgment. Rafe blinked, seemingly dragged out of his own head, and lazily looked up at you, the smirk still lingering on his lips. “Yeah, yeah, ‘course I am,” he replied, his voice casual, as though you hadn’t just been spilling your frustrations.

“You want me to, uh, talk to Top? Tell me what you want me to do.” You huffed in annoyance, crossing your arms over your chest in a defensive move. The action, while innocent on your end, drew Rafe’s attention immediately. His eyes widened slightly, and he shifted in his seat, leaning back with his lips pursed. He watched the way you folded your arms, his gaze flickering between your face and your tits.

“I dunno,” you mutter, your anger deflating. “I’m just so mad at him. I don’t even want to speak to him right now.” Your voice softens, frustration fading into weariness as you finally give up on pacing and drop down onto the lounge chair beside Rafe. You set your eyes on the water in front of you, trying to focus on its calm surface, wishing it would somehow mirror in your emotions.

Without a word, Rafe slung an arm over your shoulders, pulling you close. His lips brushed the top of your head, a quiet kiss that melted some of your remaining tension. The silent comfort of his touch was enough to ease the knot of frustration in your chest. For a moment, everything felt still, his warmth grounding you.

But then, Rafe’s voice broke the silence, his tone a little too amused. “By the way,” he murmured, his voice low, “when did your tits get so big?” His hand reaching down to squeeze. Your head snapped toward him, eyes wide with shock. “Rafe Cameron!” you shouted, your playful outrage breaking through the calm as you shoved him away. His laughter rang out in response, the mischievous glint in his eyes only growing as he doubled over in amusement.

You narrow your eyes at him, though a smirk plays at the corner of your lips as his laughter fills the air. “It’s because of birth control, Rafe,” you retort, voice laced with playful sarcasm. His laughter slows, and he looks at you with raised eyebrows, the smirk fading into curiosity. “Birth control?” he echoes, clearly intrigued by where this was going.

You lean in closer, your eyes locking with his, a teasing glint in your gaze. “Yeah, because you can’t seem to pull out in time,” you say, your voice dripping with mock exasperation. Rafe’s smirk instantly returns, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he leans back into the chair, draping an arm behind his head.

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” he asks, his tone teasing but his grin growing wider. “Yes, Rafe,” you say, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress a laugh as you nudge his leg with your foot. “I swear, every time—” Before you can finish, Rafe cuts you off with a low chuckle, his hand slipping behind your neck, gently pulling you closer. “Guess that’s something we’ll have to work on,” he murmurs against your ear, his breath warm and sending a shiver down your spine.

He tilts your chin up to look at him, his thumb brushing across your jaw, amusement still dancing in his eyes. “Or maybe I just like the idea of keeping you on birth control a little while longer.” You roll your eyes but can’t help the flutter in your chest at the way he was looking at you. “You're impossible,” you mutter, though the softness in your voice betrays any real frustration.

Rafe only grins wider, kissing the top of your head again, this time lingering a little longer, clearly pleased with himself. “You love me for it,” he whispers against your hair, his tone teasing, but the way he holds you feels more tender, a quiet comfort that you didn’t realise you needed.