NYT has been discouraging reporters from sharing photos of luigi mangione - not due to concerns for his safety but to dissuade sympathy - and refuses to post his alleged manifesto in full. and today, they published an opinion by bret stephens about how brian thompson is the "real working class hero" of this story.
reddit deleted luigi's account, which was completely innocuous and consisted mostly of him giving out advice in health subreddits. they're also deleting any post that includes his alleged manifesto and banning users for sharing it.
luigi yelled that this was "an insult to the intelligence of the american people" while he was being dragged by police and news pundits are framing it as a deranged and violent outburst. news media are picking apart details of his life to paint him as a cold-blooded and mentally ill individual. even something as innocent as playing "among us" with friends is being framed as some insidious look into an assassin's disturbed psyche, ffs.
news media are also capitalizing on luigi's supposed "bizarre and impossible to understand" politics as an obvious way to paint him as a scary individual when the guy is... a centrist, at most. whose views are similar to those of your average college-educated white guy.
multiple news media also keep harping on about how luigi comes from a rich family. an obvious attempt to break the class solidarity that's been formed around this case by continuously trying to tell us "oh he's not like you guys" while ignoring the now pretty well-documented accounts of his multiple health struggles throughout the years.
and all this, and he hasn't even been found guilty of the crime he's allegedly committed. luigi is, as of right now, still innocent until proven guilty. and the news are trying to tear him apart because they obviously fear the symbol he's becoming for low and middle class america.
😵💫🎀
STEVENN😍
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Call me something
Fic type -> NSFW + Drabble
Warnings -> Degrading kink, sub Steven, just jerking Steven off 🤷♀️, cum eating too
Word count -> 972, three or four book pages
Please check out my other drabbles either on here or on my AO3, the link is at the end <3
~Masterlist~ / Drabble I made alongside this one
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“Shit Steven…”
You feel his boner through his jeans as you half-straddle one of his legs on his bed, your knee pressing up against it.
“Ah, um, sorry love…”
He looks down, or to the side, wherever you’re not which isn’t anywhere really since you’re so close to his face.
“No no no no no, it’s cute how you’re all hot and bothered for me already.”
You say with a playful smirk as you place one of your hands on his waist and the other under his chin to lift his flushing face up to meet yours. He can’t seem to help but give you those doe eyes as he finally looks at you.
“I love how fucking sensitive you are, any little touch I give you drives you up the wall.”
Steven’s lips part as if to say something, a small exhale is let out onto your skin instead. He furrows his eyebrows as he presses his lips shut and tries to look away once more.
A spark of worry is sent through you from his reaction.
“Shit ‘m sorry Steven, I didn’t mean it like that…”
A beat of silence passes through, Steven finally says something beating you to it.
“No I… you… I-I’d like it if you meant it like that…”
You bite the inside of your lip as less-than-appropriate situations flood your mind, you lean in so your lips are nearly touching. He looks back at you with those same doe eyes.
“How far can I go?”
You trail the hand on his waist down to his hips.
“U-um, just whatever- whatever comes to mind…”
You crash your lips together in an instant, finding a rhythm quickly. Steven moans into the kiss as your hand moves to grip his hardening cock through his jeans, pressing your palm into it making his arms fly up to hug you closer.
You pull away and start kissing down his neck, sucking hickeys all down the length of it.
“Y/n-“
He involuntarily jerks his hips up into your hand, applying more of that sweet pressure he craves.
“So desperate. You’ve no patience.”
You mutter against his skin. Steven squeezes his eyes shut as a moan catches in his throat, feeling your hot mouth against it still.
A smirk forms on your lips as you realise the sheer effect your words are having on him.
You hastily unbuckle his belt and undo his jeans to reach down into his boxers.
“I c-can feel you grinning, you-you smug bastard.”
“I wasn’t tryna hide it”
His dick in hand you start to slowly stroke him, teasing the tip with your thumb.
“Oh-“
Steven lets his head fall forward into the crook of your neck, his hands sliding up your back under your shirt holding you close to him.
“You’re clingy too…”
You feel him sigh into your neck, then his breathing gradually getting faster and heavier as you speed up your hand.
“Don’t you- don’t you want me to do something?”
“No, I like seeing you like this. God I’m only jerking you off and you’re holding onto me for dear life.”
He groans and gasps slightly as you tease around his slit, massaging that sweet spot just below the head.
“C-call me something-“
“What?”
A moan interrupts his line of thinking.
“Just- just…”
“You have to know how pathetic you’re being Steven, getting off on me calling you things.”
It may just be something off the top of your head but his thighs flex nonetheless, almost closing in around your hand. He lets out a shaky breath against your shoulder.
“‘m close…”
“Of course you are, fucking slut. It barely takes anything for you to cum.”
“God-“
His grip on your back tightens as he arches his back into you, there’s sure to be marks left behind. Spurts of cum litter his abdomen and your hand.
Steven lets his head fall back on the pillow as he catches his breath, little moans weaving their way out as he comes down from his high.
All you feel you can do is look at how worn out he already is.
“You really enjoyed that didn’t you?”
“Well yea, I… I guess so.”
You chuckle quietly as you move to lay down next to him.
“I still have your cum all over my hand.”
He furrows his eyebrows.
“What d’you want me to do about that?”
He turns his head to look at you, not expecting the lusty stare he’s met with.
“You know you wanna.”
You smile as he looks at your hand held in front of him, then back to you. He purses his lips and can’t help but look back at your hand once more.
“Come on, I can practically hear you thinking it.”
You swing a leg over his waist and hold your fingers to his lips. He opens his mouth and starts to lick his cum off of your hand.
“That’s it, clean up your mess.”
He looks up at you as he licks a fat stripe up your wrist to the tips of your fingers, then going back and gathering the rest of it up. You can feel his breath against your hand, and how he clings onto your forearm so tightly preventing it from moving anywhere.
You reach down to him with your other hand and thread your fingers through his unkempt hair.
“Don’t waste any of it Steven…”
You narrow your eyes, he groans against your hand and both of you furrow your eyebrows.
He finally gets all of it off your hand, sucking a bit on the ends of your fingers just to tease.
“There…”
Barely a murmur out of him and he lets your arm go, awkwardly placing them at his sides not being entirely sure what to do with them.
You tighten your grip on his soft curls making him tense up beneath you.
“My turn.”
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My AO3
loser bf! RODRICK HEFFLEY hc
tags — fem!reader﹒sfw + nsfw﹒headcanons
loser bf!rodrick, who makes a huge show of pda whenever his brother is around. he’ll sling his arm around your shoulder and be like, “yeah, greg. my girlfriend. isn’t she hot?” greg is still fully convinced rodrick’s paying you to be his fake girlfriend, though he has no idea where he’s got the money.
loser bf!rodrick, who lets you sit in on band practice and tries so hard to keep it together, but the second his bandmates start flirting with you, he completely falls apart. his drumming gets so off-tempo that they have to stop and start over.
loser bf!rodrick, who lent you his algebra textbook and completely forgot he’d been doodling your name with his last name all over the margins. when you handed it back, smirking, he looked like he wanted to die.
loser bf!rodrick, whose idea of a date is a night drive to the gas station, where you both load up on slushies and hot dogs. you sit in the parking lot and steal bites off each other’s food (even though you have the same toppings)
loser bf!rodrick, who awkwardly asked his mom to use the “nice-smelling” laundry detergent on his shirts because he knows you like to steal them after having sex and he doesn’t want you thinking he’s gross.
loser bf!rodrick, whose mom acts like you’re already part of the family, offering you snacks and calling you “sweetie” every time you visit. she loves to (unintentionally) embarrassing her eldest son by showing you all of his baby pictures. all the while rodrick hides in the basement.
loser bf!rodrick, whose dad corners you during family dinners and awkwardly tries to sell you on how “rodrick is really a fine young man, despite, uh… some quirks.” you just nod politely while rodrick sits there, sinking into his chair with a beet-red face.
loser bf!rodrick, whose bandmates are constantly making moves on you, asking if you “need anything” during practice or offering to carry your stuff. rodrick will get so pissed that he threatens to kick them out of the band. you think it’s hilarious how defensive he gets.
loser bf!rodrick, who always gives you the front seat in his van, no questions asked. greg has to squish in the back with the instruments, too bad lol.
loser bf!rodrick, who pretends to be terrible at eyeliner just so you’ll do it for him. in return, he paints your nails—or you can also paint his (in exclusively black).
loser bf!rodrick, who acts reluctant whenever you drag him into photobooths at the mall. the two of you end up making the dumbest faces before you lean in and kiss him right on the mouth… with tongue.
loser bf!rodrick, who lets you doodle on his arm with a sharpie, and he refuses to wash them off. they stay there until they fade completely.
loser bf!rodrick, who finally starts wearing deodorant consistently because of you. it’s not even something you asked him to do—he just noticed you sniffing his shirts a little more critically and panicked. now, he’s always freshly applied before seeing you.
loser bf!rodrick, who gets hard every time you kiss him.
loser bf!rodrick, who tries his best to keep his room somewhat presentable whenever you come over. he knows it’s still a fucking disaster by normal standards, but for rodrick, clearing a path to the bed is a grand romantic gesture.
loser bf!rodrick, who’s obsessed so with seeing your hickeys on him. he never bothers to hide them—in fact, he wears them like badges.
loser bf!rodrick, who almost accidentally used the wrong side of the condom when you had sex for the first time.
loser bf!rodrick, who absolutely melts when you tug on his hair during sex. he didn’t even realise he had a thing for it until the first time you did it. now, he practically begs for it without using words, tilting his head back and grinning like a total idiot whenever your fingers get close.
loser bf!rodrick, who keeps every random thing you’ve ever given him — notes you’ve passed to him in class, concert tickets, even candy wrappers.
loser bf!rodrick, who hates being bossed around but will do anything you ask, especially if it involves you kissing his cheek or ruffling his hair in thanks. he’s so whipped and everyone knows it.
loser bf!rodrick, who brags to greg about how sexy and smart and pretty you are, just to rub it in, but secretly feels like he doesn’t deserve you. he gets this dumb, soft look on his face whenever you’re around, like he still can’t believe you chose him.
fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.
okay, yes, I know that comma isn't supposed to be there but I want the reader to take a breath! I want a pause! Stop trying to correct me, I'm trying to control the flow of reading
Ao3 does not need an algorithm, you're just lazy
Ao3 does not need a 1-5 star rating system, you just want to bring down authors writing for FREE
Ao3 does not need automatic censorship, it is an archive, therefore anything can be posted
Writing or reading about something illegal does not mean the author nor the reader condones it, if that were true, you could never read a story involving anything negative
Purity culture is ruining fan culture and you all are fucking annoying
Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader
! Smut Warning !
a/n: i wrote this super quickly bc honestly i’ll never get enough of this idea however many times it’s done😭
-> drabble <-
"God, you feel so fucking good." Aaron groaned, his voice both hoarse and breathy as he thrust his hips in quick succession against your own, trailing the pad of his thumb over your pebbled nipple, the warmth of his body looming over yours as he toyed with the stiff peak.
“Aaron..” His name fell from your lips amidst a soft moan, feeling heat burn through your skin with each stroke of his hips against you.
"I know." He breathed, "Taking my cock so well, honey."
He thrust his hips quicker, splaying his large hands across your chest, squeezing possessively at your breasts as he ran his opposing hand from its grip of your hips to your bare ass.
"That's my good girl." He practically grunted, warm skin smacking together. Purposeful in his teasing, Aaron rolled the hardened peak of your nipple between his fingers, pulling a shaky moan from your mouth.
"Fuck, yes.." You whined back arching in a plea for more - his touch somehow both firm and tender against the sensitivity.
"Such pretty tits, darling." He praised, hungry gaze running deep as it wandered back between your thighs. His cock twitched between the pulses of your walls as he absorbed the sight of him disappearing inside your cunt, your arousal soaking his shaft.
As your teeth punctured into your lower lip, a blaring ringtone escaped Aaron’s phone as it lay atop the beside table.
"Shit." He hissed, eyes flitting to the number that presented itself on his screen.
"Aaron.." You begged, "Please don't- fuck- don't stop.."
Your words sent heat pumping through him as he kept up the pace of him without fail, teeth gritting in response to your plea, his jaw tight with conflict. After the passing of a few short moments, he seized the phone in his hand, shooting you a stern look as he swiped his thumb over the screen.
“Hotchner.” He spoke, clearing his throat as he brought his rhythm to be much slower, assuring the sound of your skin colliding wasn’t audible over the line.
Your eyes widened in an instant, the thrill of it only heightening your arousal. You breathed softly, trying your absolute best to remain quiet as you heard a male voice mumbling on the other end of the exchange.
With his remaining hand, Aaron slid the pad of his thumb upward from your breasts, sliding it messily over your lips as he silently mouthed, ‘Open.’
Suppressing your desperation to make a noise, you parted your lips and allowed him to slide the pad of his thumb against your tongue.
"Have you sent the files over?" He inquired, keeping his voice impressively steady as he moved slowly against you.
Satisfied whimpers fought to escape your throat as you pushed them down, feeling Aaron’s thumb pressing against your tongue. Without the need to be told, you wrapped your lips around the thick digit, muffling yourself around his thumb as you watched him clutch the device against his ear.
His eyelids shut for a brief moment before he forced them open again, clearly struggling to hold back as he felt you squeezing him. The sight of you certainly didn’t help either, cunt full of his tauntingly slow thrusts as you sucked sweetly at his thumb, only nearing his release, “Alright. Be there soon.”
The very moment the phone beeped and the call cut, Aaron let out a frustrated groan. He wasted no time in picking up the pace of his hips once more, dragging his now damp thumb down your chin, “You did so good for me, honey. Now show me how loud you can be.”
Hiiii Olivia, I absolutely adore everything you write I'm literally obsessed.
Can I request no.5 from the prompt list pretty please, but I was thinking that maybe the reader worships franks body ya know, I little twist, only if you want don't feel pressured.
Ok love you, bye!!!
5.) body worship
hii coco my love, thank you so much :')) i adore YOU and im literally obsessed with YOU. i had so much fun writing this one so i hope you enjoy :3
18+ MDNI !!
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Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader
Content Warning: filth, pure filth, SMUT OBVIOUSLYYY, oral (m!receiving), masturbation, praise, dirty talk, face fucking, mentions of pillow humping, submissive frankie if you squint
Wordcount: 1.3k
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“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful doll.” Frank moans into your mouth, exploring your body with his hands, tracing every curve with his fingers.
“All you Frankie, that’s all you.” you whisper, pulling away from his lips and attaching yours to his neck, tasting his soft skin and nibbling on it.
“Think ya fuckin’ blind baby, I’m nothin’ compared to ya.” he chuckles, squeezing your waist and pulling you closer to his crotch, both stood at the edge of your bed.
“That’s where you’re wrong Frank.” you say, pulling yourself away from his neck, pushing him down to sit on the bed, leaving you standing, towering over him. He shoots you a shocked look with a raised eyebrow, unsure of where you were going with this. You fall to your knees, grabbing the hem of his shirt, pulling it up as he helps you remove the garment. Running your hands down his chiseled torso, you hum appreciatively.
“Fuck, you can’t sit there and call me blind when you look like this baby.” your hands wrap around his waist, gripping him harshly. You don’t peel your eyes away from his body for a second, wanting to take in every crevice of his muscles, all the scars, memorizing them forever. “It’s like you’ve been fucking hand-carved by the Gods themselves.”
He chuckles at the comparison, Frank can’t help but look away as the blush creeps up from his neck, painting his face beet red. He isn’t used to this love, these compliments. He believes with every ounce of himself he doesn’t deserve any of this, but despite all these thoughts of self-hatred, you shine through.
“Shh sweetheart, y’dunno what ya sayin’, promise ya you’ve got the wrong guy.” he mumbles, reaching down to pull you back up to him to straddle him, but you stay firmly planted on the ground, shooting him a daring look as if to say “I’m not fucking done yet.”
He raises his hands in defeat, allowing you to unbuckle his belt and pull the dark blue jeans off of his legs. The moan you make just at the sight of his aching cock straining in his boxers makes his member twitch.
“Don’t get me fucking started on these legs, these thighs Frankie. How on earth did I get so lucky?” your heart eyes are practically bulging from your head as you go to palm his bulge through his underwear, smearing his already leaking precum around the fabric.
“I ask m’self the same question every damn day, pretty girl.” he groans, running his hands through your hair, allowing you to make him feel good for you. His head throws back into the plush of your comforter as you run your fingers up his thick thighs, playing with the prominent vein on his cock through the fabric.
“You dunno what you do to me Frank, I get so turned on just thinking about you.” you whimper, pumping his length through his boxers. “I hump my pillow every night you’re out.. fuck picturing it’s your thigh.” you place your mouth over his underwear, tentatively licking stripes up his clothed bulge. Frank starts bucking his hips into your touch, dying to feel more of you. “Just being in your presence makes me so wet I can’t think straight, I have to stop myself from just taking you right there and then..”
At this point you can’t help trailing your hand down your stomach to your soaked panties, pushing them to the side as you delve your fingers inside your drenched hole, the view of your perfect boyfriend turning you to desperation. Taking your mouth off of his cock, you pull his boxers down to expose his length. It instantly slaps against his stomach, the erection he has is so hard it almost looks painful. You purr and drool at the sight, Frank so bare in front of you, so exposed just for you.
“All mine Frankie, all fucking mine.”
“Only yours doll, fuck I’m all yours.” he whimpers, the sound like music to your ears. “Please baby, I need ya so fuckin’ bad, need your mouth..”
You can’t wait another second without tasting him, so that’s what you do, accepting his begs for you. The power you have over him is enthralling, something you’re gonna want to explore later on with him. Placing your lips around his dark red tip, swirling the sensitive head around your mouth with your tongue, you begin bobbing your head up and down his cock, taking as much of him in as possible while fondling his heavy balls.
Frank knows he won’t be able to last much longer like this, but he uses every ounce of self control to withhold himself from letting go, needing you like this for as long as humanly possible. Your eyes don’t leave his while you pleasure him and yourself, he smirks at your gaze.
“Enjoyin’ yourself down there sweet girl?” he coos mischievously between moans.
“You know damn well I am Frank, any excuse to be in between your legs.” you wink, smiling at him matching his energy as you resume the task at hand.
“Dirty fuckin’ girl.. fuck just like that don’t you fucking stop… shit” he growls, taking both of his hands and grabbing your head as he starts fucking himself into your mouth, his desire fully consuming him like a man possessed. The feeling of him taking the control back, using your mouth to get off, sends a fresh wave of arousal to your already longing core. His tip hits the back of your throat repeatedly, taunting your gag reflex but you take it on the chin, eyes welling with tears and his cock flooding with your saliva.
The sounds erupting from the action are pure sin, the squelch from each thrust, the wet noises from your pussy as you play with yourself. You whine around his cock as he spills his sticky, hot seed directly down your esophagus, a primal groan erupting from his throat as he emptied himself inside of you makes your clit throb.
You finally take your mouth off of his spent member, the overstimulation as you lift yourself makes his whole body flinch. You can’t help but smirk, Frank sprawled out beneath you heavily breathing, balls and cock twitching as his member softens before your eyes.
“I meant everything, y'know Frankie? I truly do think you’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever had the privilege to call mine.” you pant, lips puffy and red as you smile up at him.
“I know ya did doll, meant it when I said I dunno what I did to deserve ya too,” he offers you the same smile back, eyes staring through you with lust blown pupils. “So, ya hump ya pillow thinkin’ of me, huh?”
You roll your eyes, giggling at the realisation you admitted to him your dirty little secret while you were so cockdrunk.
“I do baby, while wearing nothing but your shirt too.” you taunt, climbing up to your feet. He groans at your confession, eyes rolling to the back of his head imagining you do this. You go to walk to the bathroom to clean yourself off, but he halts your attempts by grabbing your wrist and pulling you down to his eye level. He places his hand to your face, angling you to meet his gaze.
“Show me.”
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a/n: this.. ngh.. need this. need him. i have no other words.
my inbox is open!
Screaming without the S
Club!Blue Jones x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • ko-fi • request info • series masterlist
Summary: Blue comes to find you when he's in a bad mood.
A/N: A huge thank you to the epic @lonelyisamyw-0love for tipping my ko-fi, this series is especially for them💚
Warnings: Smacking (in the face - Blue receiving), p in v sex, cream pie, oral sex (f!receiving) Blue crying, reader says Blue's crying turns them on, small argument - but like it's a scene, overuse of italics, there's some power dynamics in here because reader is a dancer (but like Blue is so lovesick), not beta read, swearing, please let me know if I've missed a warning.
There are 5 main ‘stars’ in the club: Peach, Trixie, Songbird, Sweetie Pie, and Crystal. Crystal is usually the favourite but is currently in Blue’s bad books for reasons unknown to the reader. Reader is a backup dancer that Blue has nicknamed Lion.
Word Count: 3100
Blue’s in a foul mood. Worse than foul.
The tension in the air is heavy, spiked with electricity like the moment before a lightning strike.
You’re helping Penny and Swan with the A Quarter stock check when you hear it: Blue’s yell. It’s harsh and sharp, cutting through the air like shattered glass despite how low the sound is. Anger radiates through the walls, his tone clear and precise even though the words and their meaning are muffled and lost.
Penny and Swan jump at the first shout, poor Swan nearly dropping the items in her hands. Her fingers shake as he tries to compose herself. She’s fairly new and has never been under Blue’s direct warpath, but she’s heard enough stories to develop a healthy apprehension.
Penny gives you a nervous glance, “That sounds bad.”
You nod.
“You…” Penny swallows, her eyes downcast.
You know what she wants to ask. Can sense it. It’s almost like her words are echoing in your head, running along your synapses. It’s the same thing nearly everyone wants to ask, though no one has dared to yet.
“Blue…” Penny tries again, breathing in as she searches for the right words.
“You’re one of his favourites, right?” Swan blurts out. It’s funny almost, the bluntness of her words. But her eyes are wide and honest, and there’s a shine of fear in them that robs you of all humour.
Penny tuts before you can answer, swatting Swan on her forearm. “You don’t just say that.”
But why? You want to ask. Why is there this unspokenness to some things? No one had ever told you not to question, but it was ingrained anyway.
“It’s alright.” You say and give them both a small smile. “It’s fine.”
Swan rubs her arm and Penny looks relieved.
“I know some of the… others,” Peach, Trixie, Songbird, Sweetie Pie, and Crystal, “aren’t too… they don’t like being asked.”
But that wasn’t quite right; some of them didn’t mind either, some of them freely gave information when it wasn’t too much to talk about. Crystal was the only one where asking a question was like a flip of a coin. You never knew if you were going to get an answer, a vicious comment, or your eyes clawed out.
Some twisted hierarchy.
You shake your head. “It’s fine.” You repeat.
“What’s he like?” Swan asks, a morbid curiosity in her voice.
All you can think about is the scars on his skin, how soft his eyes look when you press against his windpipe, the quiet, wanton moans that pass his lips when you squeeze.
You shrug, trying to find substantial words. “He’s…”
“A fucking monster.” Penny shakes her head at Swan. “Why are you asking Lion stuff like that? You know what he’s like.”
Swan frowns, “Hey, I didn’t mean-”
“It doesn’t matter.” Penny folds her arms. “It’s-”
The door flies open, smacking into the wall with a crack.
Penny jumps while Swan lets out a little cry of surprise.
You turn instinctively, your mind racing.
Blue storms into the room, a deep scowl etched into his face like a scar. His gaze first falls on Swan and she takes a sharp, shaky step backwards her eyes downcast.
Without thinking, you take a step forward and Blue turns at the sound. His glare softens when he sees you, but barely. He doesn’t steak, just grabs your bicep and pulls you from the room. You stumble, his firm grip keeping you upright as he practically marches you to his office.
The door is barely open before he drags you inside and spins you around to face him.
You stay quiet, but fix him with a hard stare.
He breathes heavily, his shoulders relaxing. He’s the one that blinks first, his eyelashes fluttering and then looking down as his grip on your arm relaxes.
“What?” You ask simply, your voice firm but quiet.
He shakes his head.
You place your hand on his cheek and tilt his head upwards. “Blue?”
“I’m sorry.” He mutters, his blinking heavily. “I… I should have…”
You let him stumble over his words.
“I… that was impolite… of me.”
“What’s wrong?”
He shakes his head again, but this time the action is not dismissive. You can see the cogs wiring in his mind as he tries to regulate his emotions.
Softly, you rub your thumb against his cheek and he leans into the soothing motion. His breathing slows, his jaw loosens as he closes his eyes.
“The conversation with Gerald,” one of Blue’s lawyers, “about regulations… building permits.”
Ah. This was to do with Blue’s planned expansion of the club.
“It didn’t,” he breathes deeply as he leans further into your touch. “I became… upset. I wanted…” He pauses again, opening his eyes to stare intently at you. “I needed to see you.”
“There are better ways of getting my attention, aren’t there?”
His nose wrinkles in displeasure. “Why were you even out there anyway?”
You go to drop your hand from his face but he grabs your wrist, squeezing slightly as he keeps you firmly against him.
Rage sparks under your skin. “You want me to stay locked up in your rooms all day and night?” You hiss.
Your conversation with him the night before echoed in your ears. ‘You don’t have to do anything Lion, just stay here.’ Even though he hadn’t intended it to sound like a prison sentence, the idea still chilled you. Isolated from everyone but him. What happened if he just woke up one day and decided to throw you away? What happened when he did?
“Is that such a curse?” He growls, his eyes dark.
Something in you snaps, the smallest thread of self-control splinters in your temple. You twist your hand, moving so that your fingers dig into one cheek, while your thumb presses against the other. You squeeze, tilting his head back. Feeling the indent of his teeth under your fingertips.
Blue lets out a little gasp of surprise, his head falling back under the force of your grip.
“Lion,” he lets out, broken and weak.
You step closer. “What kind of fucking behaviour is this?” You whisper, letting your anger burn along your words. “I know we spoke about your reputation.” You sneer. “How it’s best for you to be perceived by others. But don’t you dare take that tone with me-”
“I’m sorry!” He sobs, his voice thick, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.
You shake him slightly, a jolt that has him whimpering.
“Never interrupt me.”
His shoulders shake as he tries to fight down the wave of sobs that threaten to wreck his very core.
You watch him with hard eyes.
“Lion?” He whines. “Please, I’m so sorry-”
“I thought we were past this.”
He breathes in shakily, tears spilling out and over his cheeks. “I didn’t mean, I’m so sorry, I shouldn't have been rude to you, I shouldn’t-” He bursts into full-blown tears, practical hysterics. Something that you haven’t seen from him before.
You loosen your grip, wrapping your arms around him quickly and pulling him closer. “Shhh,” you rub his back, cradling his head as you soothe him. “Shhh, it’s alright.”
“I didn’t,” he hiccups, trying to get air into his lungs and failing, “I didn’t mean to, didn’t mean to upset you. Disappoint you, I, I, I-”
You kiss his temple, gently leading him to the sofa, which is easier said than done while still holding him and his face pressed into your neck.
As you sit down you take his cheeks in your hands, stroking his skin with your thumbs and smearing his tears. You kiss his nose and he smiles weakly while still crying.
“Usually when I grab your face like that you get a boner.” You give him a soft look.
He laughs once and nods, trying to calm himself down.
“And we end up with your face between my thighs.” You keep your voice gentle and he swallows, nodding again. “Blue…”
He looks up at you, his eyes red. “I’m so sorry, Lion.”
You shake your head, about to tell him not to be when he puts his hands on your wrists. The touch is light this time as he lightly strokes your skin. “I was… I thought that was going to happen.” He says quietly. “I intended it to… To be our usual game.” He looks up at you a little nervously when he says ‘game’ and relaxes when you give him a warm smile.
“Don’t be sorry.” You soothe.
“I just… suddenly it felt…” He absentmindedly touches under his left collarbone, rubbing the thick, deep scar that you knew resided there.
“It’s alright.”
He nods. “Thank you.”
Still cradling his cheeks, you kiss his temple, and then under his eyes, tasting the salt of his shed tears.
He nuzzles into you, kissing your neck and chest over your clothes. You let him, kissing the top of his head and stroking his back.
He moves lower slowly, pressing his lips to your thigh.
“Blue,” you say softly, coaxing his face up so you can see him fully. “You don’t have to.” You don’t want him to think he has to perform, has to be constantly… oh.
He gazes at you with heavily lidded eyes, his erection straining against his trousers. So much so you were sure he was going to pop a button.
Lightly you trace along the edge of it with your fingernail and he groans, his eyelashes fluttering and still wet with tears as he smiles.
“I’d like you too…” He swallows, already starting to feel like he’s floating. “I’d like you to ride me and…” he bites his lip, shivering. “I’d like you to smack me.”
“Smack you?” You say, thinking back to when you had him across your lap.
“Hmm,” he sighs dreamily, “here.” He touches his cheek.
You’re not sure if this is such a good idea, especially after his sudden tears. “Blue-”
“Please Lion,” he bats his eyes and bites his lip. “Just sit on me, you don’t even have to move. Just keep,” he inches closer, almost swaying, like a predator about to pounce, “hitting me and let me come and I’ll clean up all my mess afterwards.” He rubs his nose against yours, slipping his tongue past your lips and kissing you desperately, drinking down your moan like a glutton.
You wish it wasn’t so easy for him to coax you out of your clothes, for him to strip you bare while you were so distracted with his kiss. But there was a reason Blue was so used to getting his own way: he was undeniably persuasive.
He has his suit jacket off, the top few buttons of his dress shirt undone and his tie loosened when he pulls you into his lap. He keeps kissing you, keeps running his hands up and down your skin and leaving goosebumps in his wake.
Blue groans into your mouth as he squeezes the outside of your thighs before he hastily unbuckles his belt and unzips his fly. He pulls his aching cock out in a hurry, almost rough with himself, a vast difference to how slowly and reverently he had undressed you.
He squeezes the thick base with one hand, pulling his lips away from yours long enough to groan, “Hmm, Lion, please, can you- ah!” His gasp is sweet and pools heat in your belly as you take him in hand and guide him between your folds.
He lets you take control immediately, gasping as you glide his leaking tip through the wetness between your legs before you press him to your clit.
He moans deeply, his eyes blown wide. “Lion,” He swallows, his throat bobbing, “God, you’re so wet, does seeing me cry turn you on?” There’s the smallest grin on his lips, and even though you know it is just a tease, you can’t help yourself.
You squeeze the base of his cock a little hard and his eyes roll back. He lets out a harsh groan as he squirms. You know, for most, the action would be painful.
“God Lion, please, you’ll make me come before I’m even inside.” He whimpers, his voice strained. He presses his head back against the sofa, trying to gain some control over himself, and grabs hold of your hips, squeezing his fingers into your sides.
You chuckle and slowly press his fat tip to your entrance. There’s the smallest resistance before he breaches.
Blue swears, his eyes rolling back. His neck taut and exposed to you as he leans back.
You spread your knees a little wider as you ease yourself down onto him. “It does, by the way.”
“Hmm?” He looks up at you with hazy eyes, already drunk on the feel of you.
“Seeing you cry turns me on.”
“Fuck.” He tenses, the base of his cock pulsing. It takes all his will in the world to not come there and then.
You smile, stroking his hair as you sink further down. “That desperate for me?”
He nods rapidly. “Yes, Lion, yes, so desperate.” He moans loudly as your thighs meet his, finally swallowing him to the hilt. “Thank you, thank you.” He whispers, blinking hard.
“Are you sure you want me to hit you here?” You trace a heart over his left cheek with the tip of your finger and he nods.
“Please.”
“Tell me if you want me to stop.”
“I will, I promise.” He looks up at you, staring like you were the one who placed the stars into the sky. “I trust you, Lion.”
You kiss him softly before you sit up fully. Blue hisses at the change of angle, his cock twitching as it rubbed against your walls.
“Ready?”
He manages to nod once before your palm collides with his cheek. The sound is sharp. It echoes like a bell ringing loudly in your ears. Blue’s face snaps to the side at impact, your hand tingles with the force.
But his deep gasp and moan quickly alleviates any worry you had.
He turns back to face you, his cheek already growing red. “Again.”
You smack him. Harder this time.
He turns quickly. “Again.”
Smack.
“Again.”
Smack.
“Agai-”
Smack.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
Blue wimpers, his body singing as the pain mixes dizzyingly in his veins. He can taste iron in his mouth. But it doesn’t stop him from turning back to face you.
Smack.
He gasps, groaning as his hips buck once, his back arching. Pleasure rushes over him, pulling him deliciously high before dragging him down, down, down into dark, sweet depths. He spurts inside you, warm and copious, filling you to the brim and trickling down his balls.
He squeezes you as he comes, shuddering and shivering until he blinks heavily.
You’re holding him close and tight, and he’s never been safer than this moment. Never been more protected than in your arms.
He moves slowly and you loosen your grip so he can look up at you, dazed and happy.
He doesn’t like how your eyes widen when you look at him.
“Blue,” you swallow. There’s red in his teeth. You go to touch his lip and stop yourself.
“Oh,” he runs his tongue over his incisors, and chuckles. “Just a small cut.” He pokes out his bottom lip to show you, he’s right. It is a small thing. “I think that was from the third hit.”
“Blue-”
“It was so good, Lion. Please,” he strokes your cheek. “Don’t worry. I would have stopped you if it wasn’t, I promised didn’t I?”
You nod, still a little uncertain. Your worry distracts you momentarily, and Blue leans up quickly to kiss you. He licks into your mouth, groaning as his blood hits your tongue.
You take a sharp intake of breath, but you don’t pull away. You kiss him back harshly, lightly nipping at his lip and squeezing his shoulders when he moans.
Gently, he coaxes you around so that he can lay you back against the sofa, with the armrest behind your head.
He hisses as he pulls out, part of him already lamenting being away from you, but the sight of his spend dripping out of you makes him groan.
“Oh, yes Lion,” he presses at your thighs, spreading you wider. “A feast.”
You gasp as he dives to your core, dragging his warm tongue slowly through your folds in one long lick. He watches you intently as he runs over your clit, ending with a flick before he starts the whole process over again.
You jump, squirm, thrusting closer to his mouth and groaning when he uses one hand to press against your soft stomach, keeping you in place as he continues his languid torture.
He refuses to go faster, to even sink his tongue in deeper, no matter how much you beg and pull at his hair. Always keeping up that same firm pressure and drawn out pace that is starting to make you lose your grip on reality.
“Blue,” you plead, wriggle, your clit throbbing as he makes another slow trek through your pussy before his tongue can soothe the ache in your bundle of nerves.
But even as he reaches that part you need his touch so desperately, it isn’t nearly long enough. You buck, trying to get just a little tiny bit more of that pressure, but it’s fruitless.
“Blue,” you moan again, your tights shaking. Your stomach is pulled so tight you think you might explode, that heavy throb is painful. Maddening.
He starts up again, groaning as he licks and, “Fuck,” you shiver, shake as he just drags over your clit, even slower than before, pushing firmer and, and-
You scream, your muscles tensing and spasming as pleasure explodes along your nerves, runs along your veins and overtakes your very being.
You shiver in his arms as he swirls his tongue over your bundle of nerves again and again, watching you with lust blown eyes as he prolongs your pleasure for as long as he can.
You sob, shaking with aftershocks as, finally, you start to recover.
Blue places a light kiss to your core, then belly, before he moves up and settles back between your legs. He’s smiling as he strokes your cheek, looking the most content you’ve ever seen him.
Lightly you trace his moustache, it’s soaking with his spit and your come.
Sweat cools on your skin, and you notice the state of his shirt. “You’re going to need to change.” You tease and he laughs.
Thank you for reading!
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🎮Pairing(s)🎮→ Himbo Mark x Male reader ⚠CW⚠→ Gay, gay-sex, sub! Top Mark, dom! Bottom male reader, Mark is a himbo, shameless smut, collar and leash, feminization (the reader just wears lingerie. That’s it, no other description of the reader’s body.), dumbification, some body worship, Mark whimpers and whines, Mark becomes ass drunk, praise kink, blowjob (Mark receiving), you call Mark “puppy”, and breeding kink. 🎮Rating🎮→ Explicit 🎮Requested🎮→ Yes
🎮Word Count🎮→ 2.1k
🎮Summary🎮→ You wanted to try something new with Mark. Of course, he doesn’t take the hint and thinks you want to buy something special for the dog! You decided to become assertive.
Read before continuing: IF YOU ARE YOUNGER THAN 18 OR ANY OF THE WARNINGS MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, DO NOT CONTINUE READING!
You love Mark, but he’s a little oblivious to your obvious advances; he's a complete himbo.
Whenever you two toured the pet section of the store, you would pick out various collars and leashes to show Mark. You would then put the equipment around your neck to showcase them and tell Mark that they looked great wrapped around your neck. However, he would only respond, “This will look great on Chica! Thanks for showing me.”
You even placed the collar on Mark and he thought you were playing! That’s when it hit you.
After seeing the larger man with the collar and leash attached to him, you felt your cock jumping at the sight. You could imagine Mark lying down on the bed, naked, his big and defining muscles glistening with sweat– the collar and leash around his neck as you pulled on it to keep the man fucking you.
His broad muscular chest heaving as he moans and whimpers from the feeling of your ass tightening and milking his cock. His eyes rolling back, mind turned into mush as you rode his cock until he became dumber from the feeling. You imagined yourself pulling on the leash to bring the large man into a heated kiss.
Snapping back into reality, you hide the boner in your pants, but not before buying the collar and leash. You were going to try this someday.
xxx
The perfect time came when Mark was sitting at his desk, streaming or recording for an upcoming video. Being the man he is, he started flexing for the camera, showing off his biceps. God, they were huge. You just wanted him to put you in a chokehold. The sheer size of his thick muscles was astounding. He continued flexing for a few more minutes until you quietly entered the room.
You slowly walked into frame, wearing a sexy piece of lingerie. Mark, being none the wiser, didn’t see you approach from behind him until you began dancing your fingers around his broad shoulders. Mark jumped at the touch but relaxed as he noticed it was you. “Hey, darling,” he said with a low, honeyed tone. You could feel the large man's body relax as he returned to recording.
“Hey, baby,” You said, leaning down to Mark’s ear and whispering those words. Your hands roaming the large man’s expansive upper body. Your hands grazing and touching the thick muscles, groping the man’s biceps and shoulders before moving down. Mark’s breath became heavy as he groaned softly, tilting his head back. From your view, a tent was forming in Mark’s pants as he slowly thrust into the air.
You bite your lips at the sight, it was just like your daydream from yesterday. Mark’s breath hitched before a throaty groan escaped his mouth as your hand groped his pectorals. “Your hands feel good, baby. I-I’m still recording.” Mark says softly as he turns off the recording before returning his attention to you.
His considerably large cock looked like it was gonna rip through the seams of his sweats. You could see it throbbing. “Yeah?” you said with a low groan and moan in Mark’s ear. Slowly and quietly, you pulled out the collar and leash. With fast movements, you managed to lock the collar around Mark’s neck.
“B-baby, why the collar?” Mark said confused, but you could see his cock throbbing more in his sweats. “Since it’s obvious you’re my dummy. I’ve been hinting for you to put me in a collar, but you look better in it than me.” you purred as you spun Mark to face you before yanking on the leash, pulling Mark into a heated kiss.
It was a hungry kiss; your lips crashing against Marks and your tongues moving in sync. Moans and gasps were muffled as the larger man melted. You pulled back from the heated experience, a faint pop sounded with a string of saliva connecting your mouths. Mark already looked fucked out, saliva dripping from his mouth as you could see sweat forming. You could see a patch on Mark’s sweats– he was leaking precum already.
How did you get so lucky? Mark was dominant, but you were given a submissive man as well— a two for one deal.
“I-I didn’t know you meant it like that, baby,” Mark said with a breathy moan as he watched you get down on your knees. You lessened your hold on the leash, letting the large man throw his head as your hand groped and massaged his aching bulge. “T-thought it was for… C-chica!” Mark gasped as he thrust his hips to meet your touch.
Damn– everything about Mark was huge, bulky, and beefy with muscles. Your hands pranced around Mark’s tree-trunk thighs that could split a watermelon open, dangerously close to his bulge. Mark whines as he wants you to touch his bulge. “B-baby… please. I’ll make it up! I will…”
“You’re already making it up, puppy.” you purred, pulled Mark’s pants down and met with the sight of his enormous cock struggling to be held down by his briefs. Mark moans softly as his cock gushes more precum into his briefs from being called “puppy.” Sticking your tongue out, you began gliding it across the large man’s bulge. Your saliva seeped through the fabric and coated Mark’s cock.
“P-please, baby! Take my cock out! I-I’ll be good.” Mark groans as his cock throbs and begs to be swallowed by your warm, wet mouth. You smirked at the large man’s words. God, he was submissive, maybe you should be like this all the time. Your cock bobbed and leaked precum at Mark’s words.
“Yeah? You’ll be a good puppy for me? Since you’ve been a good boy, I’ll give you what you want.” You said, yanking down Mark’s briefs and wrapping your hand around the base of his monster size of a cock. You lean down to drag your tongue across the sensitive skin, tracing along the prominent vein leading to the angry, leaking cockhead.
“F-fuck… m-mother of god…” Mark moans as he feels your warm mouth wrapped around his sensitive cockhead. Your tongue swirls around the glans, drinking all the precum oozing from the tiny slit. You were only sucking on the head, but it felt heavy on your tongue, you couldn’t take the entire thing. Mark feels like the air being punched out of his lungs as he grabs onto your hair, trying to push you deeper onto his cock.
Big mistake. Mark then felt the collar being yanked by the lash. He looked down to see you wagging your finger with disapproval. “You can’t do that puppy,” you say, pulling away from Mark’s cock but stroking the heavy piece of meat. Mark began rambling about being sorry and to please continue. He needs to feel the warmth and wetness of your mouth wrapped around his cock again.
God, he was so hot being submissive.
“Mmm… I’ll forgive this time. Don’t expect this treatment next time,” you say before returning to servicing Mark’s cock. The large man laughed happily before moaning as he threw his head back until the collar was yanked again. “Keep looking at me,” you said, muffled with your mouth around Mark’s cock, but he got the memo.
Following your order, Mark watches as you suck his cock. His chest heaves as it felt like you were sucking his soul out of his cock and his body. Taking a deep breath, you started moving down on Mark’s cock. Mark felt all the air being punched out of his chest as you swallowed a good few inches (centimeters) of his cock. Mark now realizes how much he misses you sucking his cock.
You started working hard on sucking and making sure Mark doesn’t look away, slurping away on the large man’s cock with an audible wet sucking sound. Your tongue explores every inch of Mark’s cock, licking and teasing the veins. You could feel the heavy piece of delicious male meat pulsing in your mouth.
With the eye contact maintained between you and Mark, you could see nothing behind those eyes besides lust. If he wasn’t dumb already, he is dumber now. Lust and arousal tinted Mark’s eyes as he wanted you to do more and you planned on doing that. Mark’s pupils dilated as his body released dopamine and oxytocin hormones.
You have much more planned for him.
Mark could feel his orgasm approaching as he discreetly thrust into your mouth. You could feel the signs of his impending orgasm– waves of precum oozing, the cock in your mouth throbbing, and you could assume Mark’s heavy balls tightening. “Better hold that orgasm, puppy,” you said, pulling back with an audible pop. Mark whines as he loses the warmth of your mouth wrapped around his cock.
“F-fuck, baby… need warmth… please let me feel your ass!” Mark whines as he thrusts his hips into the air, his rock-hard cock throbbing. He was clenching the arm rests on the gaming chair as he held himself from lunging towards you. You grinned with amusement as you watched him, but you weren’t evil.
Perching yourself on Mark’s lap as you positioned the throbbing cockhead at your entrance. You thankfully prepared yourself beforehand. With a single thrust, the entirety of Mark’s sizeable thick cock was pushed to the hilt inside you. Both of you saw stars and white as your nerves were on fire.
“H-holy shit… so tight… so good.” Mark groans as he starts thrusting into your tight, velvety walls. He lost all rational thought as he fucked into you like a feral animal, his head collapsing onto your chest as he was drunk from the feeling of your tight hole wrapped around his cock.
“G-good puppy… so good~” You cried, stroking Mark’s head lovingly as he leaned more into your touch. Your moans got louder as the large man’s cock was ramming your bundle of nerves directly. It felt like your body was on fire– euphoria spreading to every corner. Mark’s grip on your hips tightened as his thrusts got harder, but sloppier.
Both of your minds were turning into mush; you didn’t even notice a loud clank and crack, as the gaming chair broke from the combined weight. The room was filled with sloppy and wet skin-slapping and the cries of pleasure. It was hot and steamy as sweat formed on both your bodies. There was no world besides you and Mark.
“L-love you so much– w-want this forever.” Mark babbles as his balls tighten again. His legs and body were trembling as he gave a few more thrusts. You love how dumb Mark can get with you; the feeling of your hot ass around was enough to make him dumber. You love your himbo boyfriend.
“Cum with me,” you say, pulling on the leash lightly and making Mark look into your eyes. Stroking your cock with each final thrust Mark gave, Your breathing got heavier as you kissed Mark at the same time you came. Your moans were swallowed and muffled as your load spurted and coated Mark’s shirt.
“S-so good… tight… warm… g-good for you…” Mark mutters as he was ass drunk from you. Mark rammed his cock one more time and flooded your hole with his load. He pushed his cock as deep as he could to make sure his thick pearly cum stayed deep inside your ass. His whines and moans were muffled as he groped and gripped your hips while he calmed down from his euphoric release.
A moment of silence fell over you two, basking in each other's touch as you calmed down and realized what happened. Mark was definitely gonna let you dominate him. He’s never felt like this before, but he loves it. He then hears your words:
“I’ll buy you another chair.”
THE END
A/n: hello, my strawberries! I hope this was good! Mark is himbo and none of y'all can tell me otherwise. A himbo with a big heart. Taglist: @hiddens-eden @spnfanboy777 @buckyshusband0 @zamfam4272 @raspberryyuuki @maxxioislost @furiousflowercreation @ghostking4m @sluttyhusband @wolf-knights @your-cow-boy @mack-thedork @geminiflanagan69 @starboye @boypied Very special thanks to my proofreader; @sagethegaywitch Join my taglist!
10/10!!! OMG I WILL BE COMING BACK TO READ THIS🤭✋🏼😭
At the Emperor’s Word -Viktor x Reader x Jayce
Summary: Sneaking around the academy after hours sounds like a good idea right up until you get caught; then, it becomes a great idea.
Pairing: Dom!Viktor x Sub!Reader x Switch! Jayce
Word Count: 6K
Warning: Explicit (PwP)
Tags: Threesome, Kissing, Handjob, Voyeurism, Obedience Kink, Praise Kink, Slight Cuckolding, Edging, Degradation, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Masturbation, Voice Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Lap Sex, Light Punishment Kink, Big Dick Viktor, Pet Names, Begging, Slight Choking, Vaginal Sex, Teasing, Rough Sex
Notes: A little fashionably late, but here is my absolutely filthy piece in celebration of Viktor’s birthday 🎉!! Viktor, my dearest, thank you for being my beloved husband and the devoted father of our many children. Glorious ovulation everyone ✌️💕.
You try to stifle a chuckle.
“Jayce, we can't-”
He's warm, so warm. You always feel yourself melt under his touch.
“C'mon, just a minute…” he insists.
You can't help but giggle breathlessly as he brings your hand into his pants, a large hand wrapping your fingers around his already half-hard cock. His body presses yours against the workbench, the firm wood digging into your lower back. His other hand slides against the fabric of your skirt, cushioning the strain, and not so subtly placing his palm over your ass.
He nuzzles his face against the top of your head, letting out a pleased groan when your fist starts moving. You suppress another laugh, trying your best to remain quiet, but you're positively enamoured of those sounds he makes when you touch him. Without even seeing his face, you know the content smile hasn't left his lips; he's so easy to please.
He's twitching under your grip, gripping your cheeks to the rhythm of the strokes. You quicken the pace, and he lets out a low moan that echoes through the empty lab.
This wing of the academy is always empty at this time of night, but there's something exciting about having to stay quiet. You can feel how close he's getting, the slight rutting of his hips a now familiar sign. His breath hitches, he's almost there, just a little more-
“I hope I am not interrupting anything.”
You yelp in surprise, pulling out your hand from Jayce's pants so fast your arm hits the wooden desk behind you. Jayce lets out a confused, frustrated shout at the sudden loss of friction as you wince in pain.
There, at the entrance of the lab, stands a looming figure, holding one of the large doors partially open. The light from the corridor obscures his face from the darkness of the lab; but there is no mistaking who this silhouette belongs to.
Viktor makes a single step forward, the metallic sound of his crutch against the tiled floor making you wince, as he lets the door close behind him. The room falls into obscurity again, the pale glow of the moon and the distant city lights only faintly shining through the windows.
“Ah, Viktor!” Jayce almost bellows in an overly cheery tone, walking backwards to put some distance between the two of you. “I- We were waiting for you! Got a bunch of interesting notes about today's experiments to show you !”
Viktor's face is blank, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in cold annoyance. He is neither amused nor does he seem the believe Jayce's jovial act. He nods curtly at the other man's pants, which are obviously, painfully unbuttoned. Jayce cringes as he quickly stumbles to reattach them, sliding the buttons in the wrong slits. You're frozen in place, eyes wide in fear, incapable of looking away from Viktor's frigid expression. But his focus is not on you; it's on Jayce.
“So,” he starts loudly, not bothering with whispers, “You barely spend any time working in the lab anymore. You have not even checked any of the upgrades I have suggested for the hexgates in the last month.” His voice is apathetic and dry, and his eyes narrow when he says the next words:
“And this is what you've been up to?”
Jayce opens his mouth like he's ready to argue, but the glare from his work partner seems to change his mind. He lowers his head silently, like a puppy being scolded. Viktor's golden pupils slide to you, and you now understand exactly why Jayce prefers looking at the floor.
“From Jayce I could expect,” Viktor remarks, the weight of his stare making you shrink, “but from you? I'll admit I'm disappointed.”
You bow your head in embarrassment. Your cheeks are burning, and you know there's no way to pretend like this is only a misunderstanding. You wish you could vanish on the spot.
Jayce, always the hero, comes to your defence quickly: “Viktor, it wasn't her idea-”
“I'm so sorry sir,” you interrupt him, stepping forward. You know Viktor well enough to recognize he's not a fan of poor excuses or avoiding accountability. “I swear this internship means the world to me. I know how many other students dream of working on hextech. It won't ever happen again.”
He seems pleased by your answer, although his expression stays perfectly stoic.
“That's good to hear,” he hums, walking closer to the both of you. He stops a few feet away, a ray of moonlight passing through a coloured beaker catching in his auburn hair. It illuminates him in an eerie, reddish glow, like he's not quite human, almost a phantom. “Well then, do not let me stop the both of you. Keep going, as you were.”
You have to assume he's joking, even if his tone sounds anything but, and you let out a confused, nervous giggle. But he isn't laughing, and neither is Jayce.
“Viktor…” there's uncertainty in the taller man's voice. It's not fear, or alarm, but he's apprehensive about something.
Viktor lets out a small sigh of lassitude, discontent evident. He looks at you again, with these amber eyes that make you feel like the world around you vanishes. Like there's nothing but him, and the words about to leave his lips.
“It would appear my partner is suddenly hard of hearing. Were my instructions unclear to you as well?”
You swallow. Your lips feel dry. Jayce is still unmoving next to you, still as a board, watching your interaction with his lab partner with an uneasy look.
“…No sir,” you mutter, just loudly enough for both men to hear. Viktor gives you the shadow of a smile.
“C'mon Viktor, you've humiliated her enough,” Jayce argues softly, raising his hand in a gesture of peace. But the other man has clearly decided Jayce hasn't gained his favour for the night, barely sparing him an icy glare.
“I do not believe I was talking to you,” he states matter-of-factly. The man of progress makes a strangled sound of protest, clearly insulted, but Viktor seems to have all but forgotten about him, now. It's back to only you and him, and the teasing smile dancing on his lips.
“He's always like this. Begging for attention,” Viktor tells you in a tone of confidence, like the topic of the conversation isn't standing less than a foot away from you with a baffled look on his face. “One has to wonder if he is compensating for something, but I figure you are in a good position to tell, right?”
You can’t prevent the corners of your mouth from lifting at the underhanded jab; Viktor seems emboldened by your reaction, voice louder when he continues:
“I certainly hope he's been more of a gentleman to you than this. Or does he only bend you over in our lab like an animal?”
The comment is enough to pull Jayce out of his stupor, and he raises his arms in protest.
“Hey, I'm not that-” he starts heatedly.
“Jayce.”
It's just his name; nothing else. You've said it to him hundreds of times. But there's something different in the way Viktor says it, the slow pronunciation of the syllables, the hardness of the accent, the deepness of the voice. Whatever it is, Jayce is compelled by it just as much as an order. He stops right in his tracks, his arms falling uselessly back to his side, like a dog listening to a command.
Viktor hums in approval, but his stare is no less punishing.
“I was not talking to you. When it is your turn to speak, you will know.”
Jayce's mouth is slightly agape, his eyes wide, an expression you can't quite read on his face; but he obeys. He stands there like a puppet, unmoving, drinking Viktor's words. You can't help but notice the still present strain in his badly buttoned pants.
The thinner man's gaze softens once more as it falls on you. He makes another step forward; close enough that you could reach him with your hand if you tried. He looks at you encouragingly: “Answer the question, sweet thing.”
The room feels like it's shrunk to barely a tenth of its size. Your breath has become shallow without you noticing. But isn't quite from fear anymore.
“T-twice in the lab before,” you stutter, the embarrassment of recounting your adventures to your direct supervisor burning your cheeks. The arousal in the air is undeniable now, and he's visibly aware of it. “And in the library. Once in my bedroom.”
Viktor hums pensively, studying your answer. It almost feels like you're passing some kind of final exam; the world's most sexually charged exam, undoubtedly.
“So he is aware of the basic notion of privacy behind closed doors, then,” Viktor concludes, the thin smirk now fully on display. “Who would have thought.”
He doesn't look away from your eyes when he finally speaks to the other man again.
“Jayce. How close are you?”
You glance at the taller engineer; he's started palming himself through his pants, his breathing irregular. His hair is dishevelled from your previous activities, and his cheeks are a bright crimson against his caramel skin. He's usually so dominating, on top of things, handling you like a chiffon doll up and down his dick with that cocky smile of his. You've never seen him like this; flustered, desperate, seeming so small despite all of his stature.
“Pretty close,” Jayce almost moans out, voice raspy for exertion. He's biting his own bottom lip so tightly it might start bleeding. “Just a little more.”
Viktor finally gives him a slight smile, though it's dripping with self-satisfaction. He's close enough to you that you can smell him now, that you could brush away the wayward strands of hair on his forehead. His face has been marked by the passage of time and countless hours of work, heavy bags under his eyes, cheeks almost gaudy. And yet, there is no sign of him ever losing control of this moment. Nothing could change the hypnotic power of his eyes, the controlling tone of his voice, or the subjugating effect of his slightly crooked smile.
“I suppose we should oblige,” he suggests lightly, his free hand brushing your cheek. His fingers are thin and lithe, cold against your skin, and you lean into the touch. He gives you a moment to pull away, if you want to; but you don't.
The kiss is slow at first, gentle, just the way little girls dream their prince charming might one day give them. He lets you decide when to pick up the speed, and you initiate after a few seconds by slipping your tongue in his mouth. It's messier, now, teeth clashing every now and then, saliva pooling where your lips meet. He tastes nothing like Jayce, his flavour of dark coffee and fresh mint; Viktor is sweet, like milk and honey, like a slice of lemon cake in the summer heat.
When he pulls away for air, you feel like time has started to move once again, as if you've just emerged from a dream. He's smirking confidently, still, but not entirely unfazed; his pale cheeks have turned pink, his breathing is slightly laboured, and there are traces of smudged saliva on the corners of his mouth.
A foreign whine makes you both turn towards Jayce, who is clearly on the edge of orgasm. He's abandoned any pretence of innocence, his cock fully pulled out of his pants as he rubs it furiously, eyes locked on the two of you.
“Stop,” Viktor only says.
Jayce groans in frantic frustration, slowing his rhythm but incapable of removing his hand. He's harder than you've ever seen him, his tip almost a painful red.
“No, no, c'mon V, don't do this. Please keep going,” he begs, looking at you with pitiful eyes, pleading silently. You want to touch him, to let him touch himself. But you know it's not your decision; it's Viktor's. And he's made his ruling, so you're not about to get on your research director's bad side again.
The head engineer offers a proud smile at your lack of answer to Jayce, the kind he usually reserves for reports submitted in advance or ingenious schematics. You recognize him more like this, strict, but never unappreciative of your efforts. He never forgets to slip a word of encouragement when you're stuck, never hesitates to reread your notes with you when the math isn't quite adding up. The cold anger seems to have fully passed, and now only the teasing, taunting satisfaction remains.
“I believe you may have forgotten that as per her contract, she is my assistant. Meaning she is under my direct command.”
He's looking at Jayce now, whose hand is still wrapped around his length, but unmoving. His cock is twitching in his grasp, desperate as the rest of him. His whole body shifts to the rhythm of his respiration, large shoulders slumped in defeat. Viktor doesn't turn to you when he asks you the following question, choosing instead to stare deeply into Jayce's citrine eyes.
“Is that not correct?”
You don't hesitate with your answer this time.
“Yes sir.”
His focus is still on the other man, but he strokes your cheek again with his left hand. He rests his weight comfortably on his crutch, like he doesn't have a single worry in the world in this moment.
“Good girl.”
You feel yourself tighten at that. That voice could tell you to find a way to harness the power of the goddamn stars before figuring out the hexcore, and you would comply.
“Jayce, could you bring the chair over here? The larger one.”
Viktor points with his chin towards a wooden chair with a flat backing, in a corner of the lab. Jayce looks back and forth between the chair and his partner, like he's unsure if he's joking or testing him. When no additional directions come from Viktor, he sighs in discomfort, clearly disgruntled, unceremoniously shoving himself back in his pants to go fetch the chair. The thinner man hums in appreciation when he brings it back and places it next to him.
“Thank you, Jayce.”
He sits, using his crutch for balance as he shifts slightly to find a comfortable position. His hand leaves the burgundy handgrip, instead settling on the metallic upper section. He looks like the king of a forgotten kingdom, resting on his wooden throne, sceptre in hand. You and Jayce, his obedient consorts, can't do anything but await his next command.
It comes in the form of a simple motion of his hand, beckoning you closer. You only stop when your legs bump against his, standing above him. His fingers caress the fabric of your skirt studyingly, like he's committing the feel to memory. They eventually catch on the waistband, tugging it questioningly. His golden eyes look up at you, the colour of the sunrise etched in his pupils. You nod earnestly in approval, and he lowers the skirt down until it reaches your knees, letting it fall to the floor. You're suddenly very thankful you dressed up this morning knowing you would see Jayce.
The design is simple, a line of flowery lace hugging your hips, and curving to the shape of your ass. It's the kind of thing Jayce loves; he'll even make you keep your panties on sometimes as he fucks you, just pushing the bottom of the fabric to the side to fit himself inside you. It's the lace he can’t resist, you think, the way it barely covers anything and rests against your skin like a present for him to unwrap.
It doesn’t seem to have the same effect on Viktor, but you can tell he’s still appreciative, cold hand sneaking under the lace to squeeze a cheek firmly.
“This is fucking torture,” Jayce groans in complaint, standing still just barely a few feet away. He's obviously aware he's not supposed to interfere with the two of you, or to touch himself for relief, but the glistening sweat on his forehead and down the prominent vein on his neck indicates how difficult this is for him.
“And you should know better than to have sex next to a table covered in explosive materials and one-of-a-kind prototypes,” Viktor retorts, sparing him a slightly displeased glance. “What if you had broken something irreplaceable?”
Jayce seems genuinely embarrassed by that; he may not show it as often these days with how busy he is, but you know he still cares about the academy's research and the state of hextech.
“I'm sorry Viktor. I wasn't thinking…”
“I am aware you were not thinking. And that is exactly the issue. You forget how much of our profession relies on thinking, not talking.”
It's crystal clear that's going to be the end of the conversation, for now. Viktor's fingers slide to your hip, following the shape of the panties until your inner thigh. A small tap with a single digit tells him everything he needs to know.
“Look at this,” he smiles, taunting but affectionate, “Already so wet just from a kiss. Or was it the sound of my voice that did it, I wonder.”
Both, it's both, and every single thing that has happened in this lab since he entered it. You tremble when his finger moves slowly against the damp fabric, not quite oversensitive, but a little on edge.
“I, um-” Jayce hesitantly speaks up from the side. “I fingered her a bit earlier. I… think she should be alright?”
This time, Viktor doesn't reprimand him for talking; he seems surprisingly pleased, eyes boring into yours for confirmation.
“Is that so?” he exhales softly.
You nod breathlessly. Why is it always so difficult to talk when he's studying you like this?
The teasing finger slips under the fabric, gently making its way into you. You let out an involuntary sound of eagerness as he verifies if you've been loosened up, analyzing you with the precision of a machine. He removes the digit with a crooked grin when he judges you've passed, and you whine at the loss; it was barely anything in the first place, but it soothed the feeling of total emptiness in your core.
“Color me impressed,” Viktor declares, half genuine, half mocking. “I do not think I have ever seen Jayce do his work in advance.”
Said man groans in defeated complaint:
“You're turning her against me.”
Viktor lets out a wry snort:
“You do that well enough on your own. You touched her without even making her cum?”
He pats your pussy comfortingly, and you almost sing to the feeling. Your panties get lowered swiftly, and you discard them with little decorum. Viktor's assertive expression has softened enough that you feel emboldened enough to try to join in the banter:
“Jayce thinks foreplay is watching him get undressed. He's not exactly an expert.”
Viktor laughs at that, a charming and genuine sound, and you feel yourself glow with pride. The topic of mockery doesn't seem as pleased, his cheeks red, his lips thin:
“See? Told you. You've already worked your fucking magic on her.”
Viktor starts unbuttoning his pants, the teasing smile still etched on his angular features. His fingers work nimbly, swiftly, with the precision only the best engineer in Runeterra could muster in such circumstances.
“It is not magic, Jayce. Simply talent and practice.”
He does quick work of lowering his pants, just enough to expose his underwear. The confirmation that he is indeed not as unbothered as he still may seem is poking through the fabric. Judging by the defined outline and the sizeable tent, you can instantly confirm a hypothesis you've had since the start of your internship: the Assistant to the Dean of the Academy is packing.
He's not unaware of it either; his golden eyes follow the movement of your own, playfully examining your reaction. It's different from Jayce's endearing ego and constant need for praise; Viktor knows his worth, but he revels in the admiration, the stares filled with awe and devotion.
If Jayce needs to feel worthy, then Viktor needs to feel wanted.
He finally frees his cock from the restrive fabric, letting the member bob slightly. He's not even fully hard, and he's huge, the length imposing, the bulbous tip a pleasant shade of pink. The skin is as pale as the rest of him, blueish veins marking it like porcelain; only a few well-trimmed auburn curls at the base remind you he's not sculpted from actual marble.
Jayce lets out a low, tentatively playful whistle as the other man’s slender fingers wrap around the shaft.
“Flattery will not get you far, Jayce,” Viktor comments absentmindedly. “You and I both know this is nothing you have not seen before.”
He moves his hand in an open, loose fist, evidently without any real intent to finish himself off; not with the way he's made you stand right above him, not with how he's looking right at you. You swallow with difficulty, licking your lips for moisture. The energy between the two of you is tangible, electric, as he keeps working himself tantalizingly slow.
“Darling. Sweet thing. Do you want this?”
You nod vigorously, the words stuck in your throat again.
“Tell me, then. Please. Tell me how much you want this,” he requests, and it's hard to tell whether that's an order or a plea with the way his voice lowers, just barely louder than a whisper.
You feel like you're high, your mind a jumbled mess of adrenaline and lust. There are no sentences that could possibly express how he's got you under his spell. How many times have you imagined a scene like this, in only a year of being his assistant? The stolen glances, the passing touches, you had no reason to believe they were anything more than figments of your lustful imagination. The very idea that he could be the one doubting your interest in him is laughable, and yet his gaze is probing you for a response, his lips parted with bated breath.
“I want this. I want you,” you swear to him, staring back so deeply into the amber irises there could not be a single question left. “Please, sir.”
You bring a hand to the crook of his neck; the coolness of the skin under your palm, the sharpness of his collarbone against your fingertips, the beating of his heart below your thumb. He has to know this is real.
Viktor smiles slightly, the little mole above his lips shifting alongside his dimples.
“I would ask you to be weary of my right leg, then. It is not quite as strong as it used to be, although that is not saying much.”
You've never seen the emotion that crosses Viktor's face in that moment, gone in under a second. It's so subtle one might have missed it; bitterness, regret, defeat. The tragedy of a man brilliant enough to change the whole world, but who wouldn't live long enough to see it. If Janna truly watches over the lost children of Zaun, then she is turning a blind eye to the brightest of them all.
You could say something, try and comfort him, but you choose not to. There's nothing that can be said to change things; there’s only the present, and there are only actions.
You sink down on him slowly, the both of you moaning in unison. You can't help the array of whines escaping your pinched lips. The heat from where your bodies meet is overwhelming, the stretch delightful and filling. He's not fully inside you and you're already wondering how much more you can take. It's dizzying, the pain making you grit your teeth, but you persist, fingers clenching on the back of the chair. When you've fully bottomed out, you let out a shaky breath you hadn't realized you were holding. Viktor soothingly pats your back, and you hang on to him for dear life, wrapping both arms around his back.
“Are you alright?” he whispers softly, worry evident in his voice. You want to answer, but you're quite certain if you open your mouth you'll only get confused gibberish out, because fuck, he's filling you so much it's hard to even think. You shift your grip to his shoulder blades, trying to anchor yourself, absentmindedly noticing the cool feeling of metal under his uniform. You trace the intricate patterns with your fingers to ground yourself, recognizing the shapes of bolts and screws, as you feel your breathing slowly even out
“I’m ok,” you eventually manage to exhale. “I just- need a second“
Viktor makes an understanding hum, his hand caressing the valley of your back like you're doing with his, his strokes mellow. He moves his head slightly to look at Jayce behind you, throwing him an irritated glare.
“So much for your preparations,” he points out with irony.
Without needing to see him, you know exactly the kind of disgruntled face Jayce is making: “She only needs three to fit me, you're just stupid big.”
“I can move,” you interrupt them, the pain now only a vague tingle; all that remains is the yearning for him.
You place both hands on the back of the chair to balance your weight, being careful of Viktor's weaker leg. You bring yourself up slowly, tantalizingly, before letting yourself fall back on his length. There's no other way to describe the broken moan you release than dirty.
“Eh,” Viktor remarks slyly, groaning when you start moving again. “S-she does not seem to think it’s stupid.”
You fuck yourself on him with abandon, fast, rough, not caring of how debauched you may look. If anything, Jayce seems very appreciative if his moans and curses are any indication.
“Fuck, baby,” he pants somewhere behind you, too far to feel his warmth, but close enough to hear he's pumping himself to the same rhythm you're riding Viktor. “You're doing such a good job taking him, princess…”
He's truly begging when he calls the other man's name again, delirious from the unending edging:
“V, please, make her turn to my side, I have to see her face.”
Viktor's hooded eyes bare into yours, his raspy pants echoing through your head as you thrust up and down his length.
“Do you think he is truly sorry, now?” he asks, the ever-teasing glimmer in his pupils shining despite the clear physical effort from his body.
You can't even remember what Jayce has to be sorry for; you whimper a positive ‘huh-uh’. Viktor nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck for a moment, gently bitting the sweaty skin in a surprising hint of possessiveness, but he does finally agree to free Jayce of his torture.
“I will trust your good judgment. You can come here, Jayce.”
You yelp in surprise when two strong but familiar hands suddenly grab you at the waist and turn you around, almost pulling you off Viktor's cock and into a messy kiss. The slight tickle of Jayce's stubble is pleasantly itchy, his tongue desperately searching for more of your taste. You moan wantonly against his mouth when you feel Viktor twitch inside you, but the man under you doesn't seem fully pleased: a thinner but firm hand brings you back against his chest, and he throws Jayce an irritated glare.
“I give you an inch and you take a mile. Typical,” the older man accuses him with a bitter tone, his accent more pronounced, rigid. “You do not get to touch, and you are only allowed to cum on her.”
His lips come to your ear in the ghost of a kiss, velvety smooth:
“Would that be agreeable to you, sweet thing?”
You just know you want to keep going, really; so you do exactly that as a reply.
This position is harder for movement, since without the support of the chair’s back, you would have to rely on putting pressure on Viktor's knees. Thankfully, with Jayce’s proximity, you can use his muscled chest for balance. He certainly doesn't mind being used like this if the expression he’s wearing is any sign: his entire face is crimson, his eyes heavy, laboured breaths escaping his abused lips. He's still following your pace, pumping up and down every time your ass meets Viktor's hip bones. It has to be painful by now, with the way he's been rubbing himself raw for so long without release, but he's either too entranced to care or getting off the burning friction
“So obedient,” Viktor praises you, his free hand moving to your lower stomach, long fingers digging gently into your skin; you wonder if he’s trying to feel himself move inside you. “We might still be able to make a top student out of you. What do you think, Jayce?”
Much like yourself, Jayce seems beyond the capacity for words. He's looking at you like he wants to devour you, like he wants to take you off Viktor's lap and fuck you right on the floor. But you both know he wouldn't do that without Viktor's approval, at the risk of getting on the other man’s bad side again.
Viktor's cock hits a peculiarly sensitive spot inside you and you cry out from the sudden shock, loling out your tongue involuntarily. Jayc makes a strangled sound at the sight, and it visibly takes all his self-control to not shove himself into the warmth of your throat.
“For once, I cannot get you to talk when I actually want you to,” Viktor tsks in disapproval, but it's clear he's not frustrated; rather, he seems to enjoy the trance-like silence Jayce has been reduced to.
“F-fuck, I think this is the hottest thing I've ever seen,” the younger man sputters, delirious, his fist moving with a frenzied pace. “I can see your cock in and out of her every time she bounces like that. Her tits look so good…”
You recognize that slight pitch in his voice, the rumbling in his throat; he's close again.
“What else?” Viktor hums, not letting him have a moment of respite. You can hear ragged gasps next to your ear, parts of heaved curses indicating he too is nearing his end, but he's still firmly insistent on being the one in control of it all.
Jayce whines in struggle, but it's hard to hear with how loud the sound of your own moans echo in the room. You've been using Viktor's cock to hit that one spot over and over, chasing your high without restraint, the familiar clenching of your walls maddening.
“She looks all fucked out. Like she -fuck- like she's so close to cumming around you…”
The other man seems pleased by that if the way you feel him twitch inside you is evidence. “Good observations,” he replies in playful irony. “Perhaps there is still a scientist in there.”
The hand on your stomach leaves its comfortable position to wrap around your neck, the pressure light, just barely restricting airflow.
“Sweet thing,” he calls out to you once more. “You can pick up the pace a little. I want you to never look away from Mr Talis's eyes.”
It's a hard request to fulfill considering how badly you want to squint your eyes shut in the agonizing pleasure; but you try your very best, unshed tears of exhaustion starting to pool and blurying your vision.
The sight of you so desperately trying to obey Viktor's order to focus on nothing but him is what finally undoes Jayce, who lets out one final loud curse:
“Shit-!”
He cums all over your academy blouse with a shout, little droplets reaching as high as your chin. It barely takes three more thrusts against Viktor for you to join him, crying tears of relief as an intense wave of bliss rocks your entire body. With your limbs reduced to nothing but putty, your head falls forward in exhaustion, thankfully stopped by Jayce's strong torso; the fabric of his dress shirt feels like satin against your face, burying your sobs.
Viktor takes a moment longer to reach his peak, fucking into your exhausted body with concentration, thick eyebrows furrowed. It's too much, too rough, and you throw your head back to whine against his neck pitifully. He mutters something unintelligible under his breath before he finally unloads into you with a long groan.
“Shh, good girl,” he compliments you soothingly as his warmth settles into your core, kissing your neck leisurely in praise. “You have done so well.”
He bends your head back slightly more to catch your mouth in an open-mouth kiss, slow and tired, sloppy from your mutual exhaustion. Jayce groans, his hand somehow still on his softened cock, pumping it lazily; his stamina is utterly unbelievable.
“Okay, actually, this might be the hottest thing I've ever seen,” he comments hoarsely, absorbing the way your tongue dances with Viktor's with every inch of his capacities.
Viktor concludes the wet kiss with a small peck on your lips, smiling as your head falls back on his shoulder in fatigue, your eyes shut close.
“Because you managed to get yourself all over her?” he throws back at Jayce, as calm and confident as if he hadn't just made you go through the most intense orgasm of your life. “Your ego will never cease to impress me.”
The stars behind your eyelids are still spinning; you weakly try to move an arm, finding it almost completely unresponsive.
“Sir?” you ask, and you almost don't recognize your voice with how rough and broken it resonates in the empty lab.
“I think we have reached the point where you are allowed to call me by my name in private,” Viktor amusedly hums close to you.
“Viktor, I…”
You want to open your eyes, to look into his golden eyes again and see the way he looks right after sex, but they're sealed shut from how worn out you are. “…I don't think I can move right away.”
That earns you a content chuckle from one man and a disbelieving laugh from the other.
“Jayce,” Viktor asks, now with a tone of request rather than command, “be a gentleman for once and carry her to her bedroom. The poor thing is exhausted.”
Jayce snorts, for once tonight the one hitting back with irony:
“And whose fault is that?”
Viktor’s fingers, still loosely wrapped around your throat as lightly as feathers, slide down to massage the tender muscles at the base of your nape. You moan brokenly into the touch. You couldn't move even if you wanted to.
“Undeniably yours. I am not the one sneaking around in the academy for nefarious purposes,” Viktor retorts playfully, tiredness noticeable but skillfully hidden in his voice. “But if you were to have a bad idea like this once more… I believe I can offer you my services as her supervisor. For both your sakes.”