STEVENN😍

Melvik agenda >:}}

MelJayVik

thinking about these three in bed, Jayce not being able to keep his hands to himself and Mel deciding to do something about it while Viktor occupies Jayces mouth, his throat being probed while his insides are rearranged by Mels gold plated HexStrap and trust they tease Jayce practically the entire night, teetering him right on the edge before pulling away getting him so worked up he's all teary eyed and begging, while Viktor just scoffs caressing Jayces face while saying "This is what you wanted, no?".

When they do finally let Jayce cum he's sniffling and crying, babbling out a thank you to Mel who'd finally let him cum before he blue balled, gently rubbing his tip as she asked "Gonna be a good boy now?", Jayce would nod and breathlessly parrot her "gonna be good...." his throat raw from all his sobbing. :(

NEED

Rocks at your window

- Donnie Darko ౨ৎ

Summary: Donnie sneaks through your window. You’re basically in a situationship.

Warnings: christian themes, cheating, Donnie is a creep, dom!Donnie, oral (f receiving), fingering, corruption/innocence.

Word count: 1050 ish

Notes: Maybe this is a bit rushed but it is what it is. Prob typos cause I’m lazy.

You were just about to fall asleep as the sound of rocks smattering against your window woke you up and had your eyes wide open. You reluctantly got up and gave Donnie a tired, half smile.

He climbed up the tree next to your window, and you let him in. Of course you did. Even though your parents hated him, even though he never showed up for church and even though your high school football boyfriend wanted him dead. This was your rebellion against it all.

He landed on your floor, his black converse stark against the pink rug. This wasn’t his first time here, yet his eyes still scanned your room as if it was. Maybe he liked to remind himself who he was corrupting. His eyes grazed the cross above your bed, the locked diary on your bedside table (which he snooped through whenever you went to the bathroom) and your pristine, white, unstained sheets. A testament to how unskilled your boyfriend was.

Donnie sat down on your bed. This was part of the routine. You plopped down next to him. Exchanged small talk. How are you? You looked nice at school today. Does your mom know you pin your skirt like that? This always ended in you blushing and him egging you on. “I read a bit of your diary last time I was here” Donnie spoke and your eyes instantly widened. “You really think about me when he fucks you?”

You felt like slipping through the mattress. You hated that word. “I didn’t think anyone would read it” you mumbled, as if it would save you. Donnie smiled at you, his ego multiplying by thousands. “He doesn’t do it like me?” Now it was a straight home-run, he had successfully caught you in his web. You shook your head. Getting trapped in recent memories of your boyfriend pushing your head down and flipping you over, quietly getting himself off as your mind slipped elsewhere.

Donnie’s hands crawled up your thighs beneath the night gown. “He doesn’t do this?” A light finger circled your clit through your panties. Your eyes shut close in an attempt to keep it together. “No” you managed to get out through your gritted teeth. “Not a very good boyfriend then.”

Donnie laid you down against your pillows, he always wanted you face up. You thought it was romantic, in reality he did it so he could watch you struggle to keep your mouth shut.

He pulled your underwear to the side and ran a finger through your wetness. “How long has my dirty girl gone without it?” His thumb spread the slick over your clit. “Two da-“ You began but quickly got interrupted. “No, not since you had sex, Since you came” Donnie clarified. Your eyes didn’t know where to look. You looked up, but the cross stared back down at you. So you settled on looking at Donnie, even though it felt like too much. “Two weeks.” Donnie gave you a pout, equally cruel as it was sweet. “Sweet girl can’t do it without me?” He said as one of his fingers entered you. He had the same look as the one you give the hunted rabbits on national geographic.

You didn’t know how to respond his question. Not because you didn’t have an answer, but because you weren’t sure if you could get the words out. So, instead, you whined and moved your hips down against his finger. You didn’t want him to go slow, though, Donnie might be tough to convince tonight. See, he had just jerked off to a picture of you before he came over. The one from the year book, where you’re sitting with your girlfriends on the grass in the sun. With a flower tucked behind your ear and a broad smile. To say he was spent was an understatement.

He entered another finger, and you had to bite your knuckle. If your parents found out, they’d most likely kill both of you. Donnie kept the torturous pace. His favorite part was when you couldn’t take it anymore and had to confess what you needed from him. He wasn’t about to give up seeing this sweet girl spout profanity tonight.

You gave Donnie a sigh. “Not enough?” he shot back. Your shaking head was met with a “dirty girl”, but no chance in action. You had played this game before and knew your way out was to speak. It made your chest clench when you did, but your thighs did the same; resulting in your head spinning with prayers, unclear to whom. “Want your mouth.” It was barely a whisper. Your cheeks flushed with shame and arousal.

Donnie dragged your underwear down, discarding them on your floor. He folded up your gown and laid down on his stomach, taking a second to appreciate the view.

The first moves of his tongue were frustrating. It circled around your folds and around your clit, never actually settling on it. His hot breath fanned against your wetness. Just as anger almost began to bubble inside you, he licked a stripe up from your hole to your clit. And stayed there, working small circles on it.

Even though Donnie was sure there was nothing left in him, he couldn’t help but slightly rut against your sheets. He had missed you so terribly recently. Finally, he was tasting you again, which was a hundred times better and more intense than burying his face in your stolen panties. The thought of your oblivion to this had him enveloping his lips around you.

You winced at the upped stimulation, his tongue flicked against you while the suction had you pulsating. Your hands grabbed onto his hair as you tried your best not to push him harder against you. His name echoed in your head as the pressure built, your thighs hugging the sides of his face.

You came with a held back, strained moan. Donnie’s chin was glistening as he came up smiling at you. After a kiss, he was out again, running across the street to his house.

Before falling asleep, you picked up your diary and wrote his name over and over again.

SUB JAYCE‼️‼️

Thinking About You... A Lot

Notes: about time we get jayce solo session 😍😍

Pairing: Jayce x implied f!reader

Summary: Jayce needs you. Badly. So, during his own time, he'd do unimaginable things behind closed doors.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ work!! minors shoo flyyyyy - drabble, submissive jayce, attempted dirty talk, cussing, sub fantasies, puupy dog jayce, slave jayce?, m!masturbation, brief nipple play overstim, assistant!reader, use of 'master', f!reader implied but no use of feminie pronouns — tell me if I've missed anything!

The flickering lamplight cast long, dancing shadows across Jayce's workshop, illuminating the intricate gears and gleaming metals of his latest invention. But his mind wasn't on the intricate workings of his hammer. 

It was consumed by the images you.

He imagined your hands, tracing the contours of his chest, your fingers lingering on the rise and fall of his muscles. A low moan escaped his lips as he brought his own hand to his arousal, the rough fabric of his gloves a poor substitute for your touch.

But nevermind that, he was quick to tear it off his hands.

Tonight, his hand was wrapped around his lengthy, fat cock, stroking to his terrible sketches of you in his personal notebook. His fingers slid over his slick tip, covered in pre-cum. Jayce couldn't hold back any longer. He thrust his hand into his fist, his eyes rolling back as he cried out.

"Need you..." he managed to mutter out his wet, drooling lips from his weak attempts on spitting on his cock to lubricate it. Leaning forward, he fisted his rock-hard erection. Waves of longing crashed over him as he imagined running his hands over your skin or trailing kisses down your neck. Jayce pumped his dick furiously, his breathing ragged.

“I’m fucking myself just for you.” The wet sounds grew lewder every stroke.

Beads of sweat trickled down Jayce's forehead. He quickened his pace as his desire reached a feverish peak. He was already incredibly close to cumming and was about to cover a sketched picture of you with his load.

Closer and closer he brought himself. He was palming his thighs with his free hand like he was pawing at your tits. He needed to worship you, slap, suck, praise your breasts. Dammit, he needed to draw you nude one day.

Visions of you playing coy, batting your eyes, teasing him with every little glance, "Won't you leash me one day? Woof..." It was a disgustingly pathetic noise that escaped his throat. If he had a tail, he'd be wagging it like crazy. 

He could still hear your laughter from the lab, feel the warmth emanating from your body when you stood too close as you showed him your experimental results. Jayce was quick to abandon pawing idly at his thighs and wrapped his hand around his swollen cock.

With both of his hands fisting his slick erection, he pumped faster. He leaned against his desk, furiously and desperately thrusting into his hand as if he was thrusting into your warm cunt. Subconsciously, he rose from his seat, putting most of his weight now against his desk.

"Fuck me, please..." he whined out like a kicked puppy. 

Jayce let his hands fall away, clutching the edge of the table while staring at your portraits. Instead, ground his hips against the metal of his workbench, the sensation agonisingly not enough. He bit his lip, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to escape. He was close, so close, his body trembling and shuddering with every thrust.

He fisted his cock once more, desperately pounding into the table as if he would be pounding you against it. His broad hips would bang against the table, shaking whatever items were listed on top along with wet plaps of his throbbing cock into his hand.

"...Cumming!" With a strained whimper, he blew his load all over his sketches of you, streaks of thick cum covering the brown paper and his workbench. He quivered, his hips stuttering as he slowly but harshly thrusted against the table to draw out his orgasm.

His hazy, glossy eyes ran over his current situation. He looked over the spurts of cum all over the table. He wished this cum ended up inside you instead of wasting it all over his work space.

Jayce glanced down at his aching cock, feeling it soften only a bit but maintaining its erection. He bit his lip like a happy dog. His motions slowed as the first aftershocks subsided, but his excitement remained charged. 

"Please keep fucking me, master..." he winced out with all the breath he could muster from his lungs. Reaching down, Jayce began to gently stroke his overly sensitive cock, eliciting small moans from the back of his throat as fresh arousal built. With every stroke, his hips jolted. 

He imagined your face, your eyes wide with pleasure as he brought you to orgasm. He could almost taste you, smell you, feel your body beneath his. He thrust his into hand experimentally, plunging his overstimulated cock back into his warm, cum-covered fist. He cried out, his body convulsing with pleasure.

"Master! Woof... master." He barked out. Jayce brought his free hand up below his uniform and towards his pecs, searching for his sensitive nipples. With a pathetic cry, he pinched and flicked his nipples in time with his sloppy thrusts. He moaned, his head thrown back, his eyes squeezed shut.

He came quickly again with a shudder, his body trembling with the force of his release. He slumped back against his workbench, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He looked down at his hand, still stained with his own cum. His cock was yet to soften completely, a stubborn knot of horniness refusing to subside. He thrust into his hand again, the motion a desperate attempt to recapture the intensity of his release.

The sticky residue mirrored the mess he felt inside, a raw, chaotic cloud of lust. He moaned, his voice hoarse, a low, guttural sound that was swallowed by the silence of the workshop. Jayce tiredly slumped back into his chair, desperately stroking himself, giving up using his tired hips. 

He pumped his cock harder, faster, driven by a need that bordered on pure greed. The image of you, your face, your body, your pleasure, fueled him. He was a furnace, burning with a white-hot intensity, consumed by the need to worship you.

He imagined your eyes shut with pleasure as he obeyed your commands. He imagined your body arching beneath him, your breath catching in sharp gasps as he pushed deeper and deeper. He imagined your name, a sweet melody on his lips, a word of power as you pulled on a leash that surrounded his neck.

The fantasy shifted, taking on a darker, more sinister tone. You were no longer the object of his desire, but his master. He was your plaything, a toy existing solely to fulfill your every whim.

"Can I go deeper, master?" He panted. Jayce imagined the leather biting into his skin, the rough texture against his sensitive flesh. He imagined your hand, gripping the leash, pulling him closer, deeper into your cunt. He imagined your voice, issuing commands, pushing him to his limits. The limits he so craved.

He stroked continued to pump his overstimulated cock, crying out and twitching but not tapping out. His body a marionette, dancing to your invisible strings when you weren't really there. He was simply feeding off of his imagination. Trapped in his own desires, cumming and cumming over and over.

Each orgasm a drug he consumed, followed by a crushing wave of emptiness. He was addicted, a slave to his own twisted fantasies. By the time he was 'done', he was out cold, drooling, covered in cum, and mumbling your name.

"You fucked me so good, master." He lolled out once more.

Post Notes: now that i think about it, i shouldve made jayce SQUIRT 🥲

~ ~ ~

@lightupsketchersperson @simpleindividualgirl @consecratedvampire91 @donnie_is_here @erunanethiel25 @luv-urself-first

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Screaming without the S

Private Dances 7

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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4 times you sit on silco’s lap & the 1 time he pulled you onto his lap

Warnings. Sexual positions. No specific reader gender/genitalia. Impregnation kink (sorry yall its bad again). Not toxic girl dad!Silco. Pet name

1

You and Silco danced around the empty bar, twirling and singing and chasing and slipping out of each other’s fingers. For the past hour the pair of you had been letting the loud music from the jukebox reverberate through your bones as you moved fluidly around the room.

Silco’s silky black hair was pulled back into a tiny bun at the back of his head. Sweat beaded at his hairline. The little droplets grew fat and ran down his cheek bones and disappeared down the sharp edge of his jaw as he chased your laughing body. 

“Crazy,” he mused to himself as the song ended and you finally let him twirl you in by the hand. Silco dipped you, watching your smile widen. He held you there as you examined him through your striking eyelashes. He leaned down slowly, sensually and let his eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips. You were caught in his trap, lips parted as your eyes locked on his lips.

Further, slower, he leaned down until you could feel his gasps of air on your lips. He parted his lips and tilted his head closing the gap between you-

Silco stood up and twirled you again. The sexy smirk on his lips made you forgive him just a little for being the incredible tease he is. “Bastard,” you cursed him with a wicked smile.

“A thirsty bastard,” he corrected smartly. Taking you by the hand, Silco led you to the bar and gestured dramatically to an empty bar stool.

He poured your favorite and slid it to you before making his own drink. Silco rounded the corner and brought the stool next to you closer to yours. He had just put his glass bck on the counter before you slid into to lap, facing him.

“Sly thing,” Silco chided, hands settling on your ass.

“You love it,” you replied. You pulled the hair tie out of Silco’s hair and watched it settle around his features perfectly. “Pretty boy.”

Silco practically purred at your words. He brought a hand up to cup your cheek and placed the other at the back of your neck. “I do love it- love you.”

“I love you too,” Silco repeated, sealing his words with a kiss.

2

“Don’t look at me like that,” Silco muttered, voice raspy with- was it. . . lust? “You know I can’t work with you watching me like that.”

You tilted your head. “Like what?”

“Don’t be coy.”

Silco didn’t look up as you rose from your spot from the couch. You heard his breathing turn shakier as you approached. Chuckling, you pulled the back of his chair until you could grasp Silco by the collar.

He spluttered- an endearingly pathetic noise you’d like to earn from him again- as you tore him from the endless plans, letters, and work sitting on his desk as he prepared for the future of Zaun. Silco didn’t actuallytry to stop you, though, despite his unintelligible grumbling.

You pushed him onto the newly acquired couch. His back hit the cushions and his raven-black hair spread around his head like a halo. Smiled as you committed the imagine of him so off-guard to memory. “You’ve been working so diligently,” you purr, raising on knee to rest between Silco’s hip and the sofa back. “And so hard. . .” You placed your other knee on the sofa and so lightly started grinding on Silco’s boner. “I think you deserve a break.”

Silco was the one watching you through his lashes now. “Is that right?” His heaving chest showed his anticipation despite his usual calm voice.

“Oh yeah,” you reply with a dangerous smile.

3

It was a late night- the crowd at the bar had been rowdy and took a while to herd all the drunkards out, leaving you an exasperated mess. Not to mention the fact that you were dealing with an astounding amount of Enforcers after Jinx had gone and stolen a couple expensive looking watches and necklaces for some reason unknown to you. All in all, you were beat.

After tossing a wad of cash to the other bartender, you bid him goodnight and headed up the stairs.

“I was wondering when you’d be up to see me,” Silco greeted you from his desk. “Come here, my dear.” 

He watches your movements with those sharp eyes of his. You perched yourself on the edge of his desk and let Silco rest his head against your chest. You ran your nails through his hair the way you knew he liked. “We should go get ready for bed,” you murmured, feeling his arms wrap lightly around your waist.

Silco heaved a sigh. “I have work to do.”

It was your turn to sigh as you pushed off the desk. Silco looked up, brow arching, at you. His confusion waned as you straddled him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You felt the man under you shudder as he exhaled, stress slowly easing out of his body as you pressed soft kisses to the oh so fragile skin behind his ear. “You can do your work tomorrow after you get some sleep.”

Clearly your tender embrace had weakened Silco’s resolve because all he did in response to your statment was pull you impossibly closer to him. “I suppose you’re right,” Silco finally muttered into your shoulder.

4

Jinx and Silco were currently in disagreement over who would do Jinx’s hair, when they would be doing it, and the hairstyle Jinx wanted. For an eight year old, the little blue haired girl knew what she wanted. And it was that Sevika stayed as far as humanly possible away from the eight year old.

So that was why Silco had convinced you to go to barber near Benzo’s old shop. Something about ‘not being anle to contain such rage and emotion in such tiny body’ alone.

Truth be told, you weren’t well educated in children handling. Working with Silco and the traitor for most of your life gave you practically no time to interact with people under sixteen. Jinx had taken a liking to you- probably because you were one of the people she saw the most because of your relationship to her adoptive father. (On the certificate, you were also listed as a guardian.) So being able to style the girl’s hair as she liked would be a good skill to add to your already wide-ranging knowledge.

The two of you paid as much attention to the barber as possible. Jinx had selected a simple three strand braid that you got the hang of off the bat. Silco? Not so much, but the effort was there!

When you paid and left, Jinx was so happy with her hair and so convincing that she was given permission to play with the barber’s twin son and daughter. Silco had pressed a handful of coin into Jinx’s hand and told her to be home in two hours.

“You’re going soft,” you mused, jutting your hip into Silco as the two of you left. “It’s endearing.”

Silco recoiled. “I am not. Inconceivable.”

When you scoffed, Silco turned to you with his eyes narrowed. “Something to say, trouble?”

“Nah,” you drawled. “It’s… It’s nice to see this side of you again.”

Your lover wrapped an arm around your waist and led the two of you back home. “I haven’t felt more content in a long time,” he finally admits. Emotion made his voice gravely.

“Yeah.” You continued to walk, falling into silence. 

“I like watching you with her.”

Silco’s glinting eyes are already locked on your gaze when you look up. “Yeah?” You ask, suggesting smile beginning to pull up at the corner of your lips.

“Yeah. It makes me wish I could. . . fuck one into you,” he mutters.

Your eyebrows are higher than your hairline when he speaks. “Sil, you- you know I can’t-“

The dark lust in Silco’s eyes lighten. “That doesn’t mean I can’t fuck you like you could carry my children,” he tells you, an edge of an emotion you can’t quite put a finger on.

Silco pushes open the door to The Last Drop and flicks on one of the light switches. He turns to see you sitting on the table of a booth, watching him with an expression so vacant Silco wonders if this conversation is what finally sends you running. “Talk to me.”

Continuing to say nothing, you pat the table next to you. Silco pulls himself up beside you and examines your face carefully. He is apprehensive as you slide into his lap wordlessly and wrap your legs around his waist. You trace the calloused pad of your thumb from the very bottom of Silco’s scar surrounding his eyes. It’s when you near the tip-top of the marred flesh does Silco grasp your wrist.

“Speak to me, my dear,” Silco repeats. “What are you thinking? What do you want me to do?”

Silco lets your wrist go without much resistance. You tangle your fingers through his short hair. “I want,” you begin slowly, hearing his breathing cease entirely. “You to fuck me like you could knock me up.”

It takes Silco several seconds to compute your statement before leaning in to fucking devour your lips.

5

The bar was booming tonight.

Round after round, table after table, drink after drink. In informal terms: you were fucking slammed and the crowd wasn’t thinning out.

It’d been this busy for at least the past three hours and the pain in your feet and legs had been so God awful that you couldn’t wven feel them anymore. And the poor bartenders could barely open their mouths without someone spitting out orders or tossing coins or just pestering them.

You sighed. Nights like these made you really question your love of the damn building. 

An hour later, you could see a glimpse of the light at the end of the tunnel. With an end to the night in your near future, you found yourself walking a little faster: a little more eager to get the people more drunk and gone.

It was another whole hour before you were almost finished with the cleaning. All you had left to do was wipe down the counter and tables, put the chairs up on the table, and mop.

Silco finally slunk down the stairs to see you and the last, most desperate bartender mopping up. He slid into a booth and rested his head on his palm as he watched you.

When the two of you were officially done cleaning, Silco fished out a bag of coins from one of his pockets. “Here, kid,” he said before tossing the pouch at the awed bartender.

“I- Thank you sir,” the girl said gratefully, eyes flickering between you and Silco. You smiled at her tiredly.

“Good night, Mimi,” you told her.

Silco watched Mimi smile brightly at you- the significantly kinder of the couple- and nod excitedly. “Good night, y/n! Thank you again sir, and good night!”

You came to a stop in front of Silco and tugged your apron off. “How are you?”

Silco heaved a sigh. He reached out to you and turned you away from him. Then Silco pulled you down onto his lap. He comically scooched back until his back was against the wall and his and your legs tangled on the rest of the booth. “Better.”

As Silco wrapped his hands around your waist, you felt your back decompress as you leaned against the love of your life. Your eyes fluttered shut, heavy with sleep. “I love sitting on your lap,” you confess.

Silco hums, amused.

“Best seat in the whole damn house,” you say, yawning.

Before Silco realizes it, you’re asleep. He doesn’t want to get up because theres a chance you’ll wake up, but Silco also wants to get his love to bed.

He just rests his head on your shoulder and lets himself have this moment.

i need a older man to let me sit on his lap and give him sweet kisses on his cheek.

He's so pretty you guys

Star Wars: The Last Jedi (2017)

My GIF masterlist

Just One More

Pairing: Basil Stitt x F!reader

Summary: You're going away on a work trip and Basil tries to get his fill of you before you go. But it seems like he just can't get enough.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, stalker type behavior, obsessive/perverted behavior and thoughts, free-use, consensual somnophilia, mention of male masturbation & voyeurism, thigh-fucking, unprotected p in v, degradation, dirty talk, teasing, spitting, spit play(kind of), hair pulling, choking, overstimulation, cum feeding, filming(general consent to do so in their relationship but no explicit consent given beforehand), cockwarming

WC: 3.2k

A/N: Was originally going to be a Steven fic but I think this level of depravity and obsession is so much more fitting with Basil. He's such a pathetic mess and I love it.

Your dynamic with Basil is simple. You very quickly learned how he is. His wants. His needs. So you were more than happy to give him free reign to be as perverted and devious as he’d like. Before you waltzed into his life, he had already felt like he knew you intimately. He didn’t stalk you, per say, but he had become a bit obsessed with the brief glimpses he got of you as you lived in the building across the alley from his.

He'll never forget the first time he saw you. You appeared in your window one night, the glow of your bedroom light wrapping around your body, forming a beautiful silhouette. You looked ethereal, he thought. Like an angel. You didn’t have curtains, but if you did, he would've broken into your apartment and torn them down himself.

 He never had the courage to ask you if it was intentional, but he likes to think you knew exactly what you were doing. Putting on a show for him every time you were in your bedroom, walking around fully exposed. Often times you were fresh out of the shower, water dripping down your naked form.

It had become a ritual. You would come into view and his hand would immediately slip down his pants. And in less time than he'd like to admit, he was cumming over his hand, tears forming in his eyes as he was desperate for it to be spilling over you instead.

Not much had changed since you got together. Now you just happened to share a living space, so it was a lot more convenient. He touches himself at the thought of you constantly, which usually involves him either digging through your drawers or dirty laundry to use a pair of your panties or any article of clothing that holds your scent.  Or he uses some of the picture and videos he has of you.

You had shared your collection with him. You had countless videos of you and him messing around but what he found himself using most often were the photos you would send to tease him, turning him into a pleading, desperate mess, just begging to touch you. Like the ones you would send of yourself with your skirt pulled up and tits out in the mirror at work, when he would text you and beg you to give him something, anything, as he sat at home counting down the minutes until you got back.

He particularly loved the ones that he took himself, usually of you when you're in bed and he’s standing over you getting off to your sleeping form. You two had a full free use arrangement, which he takes advantage of whenever he can. Having full access to you was a little overwhelming at first, seeing as he was used to viewing you from afar and practicing all the self-restraint he had knowing he couldn’t have you. Now he can have you whenever he wants but he still feels the need to do what he used to do; sneak around and feel a sense of shame at the dirty thoughts he has of you. He still experiences that same shame, except now he, and you, get off on it. 

You had come up with a code, though, a little red hair tie that you can slip on your wrist to tell him that he shouldn’t disturb you, if need be. You usually only use it if you're not feeling particularly well that day or if you have a long day of work ahead of you and really need the sleep. Tonight would be one of those nights, but you decide to take pity on him. You’re leaving for a week-long work trip in the morning and it would be nice to get some sleep. You struggle to sleep when you’re away from home and your partner so you want to just enjoy a nice night of slumber in his warm arms. But you know he wants to get as much out of you as he can to try and tide himself over until you get back.

Basil lays behind you now, staring at your bare wrist in the sliver of moonlight cast over you as you sleep. That's not what he expected. He momentarily thinks maybe you just forgot to slip it on. But he knows you. You’re very generous, always giving him what he needs. Not to mention your sex drive pretty much matches his, so you can usually keep up with how needy and desperate he can be.

But sometimes he gets in a mood where he’s insatiable. And today was just one of those days. He’s going to miss you terribly and he’s trying not to think about the next seven days he’s going to spend moping around until you get back. He struggles to be alone, and like you, he can’t get a good night's sleep without you there, his thoughts filled with nothing but you until you return.

 You had really given him your all today, though, moving around the house to fuck him on every surface you could think of. You ended up on the floor in the middle of the hallway leading to your room and you rode him until he saw stars. You had eventually worn yourself out and after your last round you told him it was time to shower and turn in for the night, but he still had that hungry look in his eyes. So, you decided to forgo the little red band. You were so exhausted you weren't sure you'd even wake up.

Now sleeping soundly next to him, he looks down at your body. He had wished so badly that you two could fuck each other to sleep, nice and slow until you both slip into unconsciousness while he's still buried inside you. But you were out like a light the second your head hit the pillow.

He’s behind you, hard cock resting against your bare ass. He shed his clothes, needing to feel himself directly against your skin. He decides to use your thighs to get off, knowing you'd be the least likely to wake up this way. He really wants you to get some sleep but something he never takes into consideration is his severe lack of control.

He rubs some spit on himself, and pushes his dick between your plush thighs. He immediately coils his body around yours, and you shift against him. He stills, worried he woke you. You nestle deeper into his hold, but your breathing is still slow and even, indicating you're still asleep. He gradually slides closer and closer to your center, until his length is wrapped in your folds. The slick he can feel starting to form makes him shudder and he starts thrusting faster.

He catches on your entrance and you sigh quietly, but he notices your eyes are still closed. The brief contact with your hole reminds him of just how good it feels to slip inside and he realizes he’s not as strong willed as he had thought. He needs to be inside you. He hikes your leg up and rubs himself against your clit and your breath hitches. He continues this motion and eventually your eyes start to flutter open. Before you can look back to see what’s happening, he pushes into you. You both groan and he attempts to steady his breathing, trying not to cum yet.

“Just couldn’t control yourself, could you? Fucking me all day wasn't enough? So fucking needy.” you mumble. He whines pathetically into your shoulder, the shame painting his cheeks red. The look on his spurs you on. He's already a mess, clearly desperate to cum.

“You can’t help it though, can you? Go on baby, take what you need.” you coo. He sighs in relief and starts rocking into you, slow at first but when you grab him by the curls and crash his lips into yours, he speeds up, thrusts already sloppy. His breathing gets faster and faster and you realize how close he is.

You pull away. “You’re going to cum already? This is the last time you’re going to be inside me for a while, not even going to try and make it last? Pathetic.” you tease. He groans, silently cursing himself for being so weak, but he can’t help it. Your warm walls hug him so tight; you always bring him to the edge so quickly. He huffs in determination and shakes his head.

“ N-no.” he stutters, trying to think about anything else other than how you feel wrapped around him, how the closeness of your body flusters him. He begins his movements again, slow, trying to stave off his impending release. “Faster for me baby, c’mon” you grab his ass, pulling him into you deeper, trying to build to your own release. You quickly realize that he won't make it long enough for you to get off.

That's okay, you're plenty satisfied from earlier and the thought of him using you for his own pleasure has fresh slick forming between your legs, making him glide into you even faster. He pulls out, denying himself his release yet again and rolls you over. He lays on top of you and rests his head onto your chest, trying to catch his breath. “What’s wrong, I thought you wanted to cum? You were desperate enough to start using me while I was sleeping.” another whimper escapes his lips

“Not yet” he mutters, then moves his head to latch onto your left nipple and begins sucking hard. You arch your back, moaning at the sensation. You know what he’s doing. As much as your breasts turn him on, they have a way of soothing him even more. It comforts him to mash his face into your chest, enjoying your warmth and your scent. When he’s calmed down enough, he slides back into you, making you gasp. He wraps his arms around you and begins rutting into you.

He realizes he can't hold an any longer and he decides he's ready to let go. He starts giving deep, sporadic thrusts and shutters at the drag of your silky, wet walls. You pull his face from your chest and wrap your hand around his throat. His thrusts are short and uneven, but that in combination with the pressure on his throat has his eyes rolling back and he's practically drooling.

You're desperate to see him cum and you start to tease him, knowing that drives him crazy and deeper into fucked out bliss. "Do you touch me in my sleep often? I know you sneak off into the bathroom to use my panties if it's taking me too long to doze off, but what do you do to me when I'm sound asleep?"

All he can do is mewl. He can't form a single thought apart from how good you feel. "Do you use my hands? My thighs? Tits? I know you use my mouth. I can always taste you on my tongue the morning after." He pushes his neck deeper into your grasp and lets out a choked-out moan. He has now completely stopped moving and is now getting off on your words alone.

"Touching me in my sleep, stealing my panties, spying on me in the shower." His half-lidded eyes fly wide open. He thought he was being discreet about that. Usually, he'll just slip in and ask to join you but sometimes he gets the urge to just stand in the hallway and watch you through the crack in the door.

"Oh, thought I didn't notice that? I can hear you whining while you fist your cock. Such a perv." Tears well in his eyes at the humiliation, but you know he gets off on it. You're not sure if he realizes it but you know part of him does these things hoping to be caught. Get you to call him a dirty boy, tell him how perverted he is. Luckily, you're just as depraved. You're basically living under the same roof as your stalker and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"I can't h-help it." He mumbles. "I want you all the time." His confession makes you smile and you pull his lips to yours. He purrs, enjoying the sweet taste of you, and licks into your mouth sloppily. He's making it messy intentionally and you know exactly what he wants. You chuckle softly at the desperation and pull away, strings of spit still connecting your lips. You tighten your hand around his throat and use your other hand to give a sharp tug to his hair, and he gasps. With his mouth agape, you spit right onto his tongue.

He lets out a satisfied groan and you do it again, this time getting it on his face as well. He immediately wipes it off and shoves his fingers in his mouth, not wanting to waste one drop. He then pushes his fingers in your mouth, swiping the spit right off your tongue. You gag a little as his fingers slip farther down your throat, trying to get as much as he can. He loves that sound so he does it a few more times, then pulls his digits back into his mouth and begins sucking on them frantically. He hums at the taste.

"You're disgusting." you sigh, watching his movements. Despite your remark, you love the way he's licking and slurping up every last drop. Your comment has him twitching inside you. As much as you would like to make him cum just by cockwarming him while your filthy words drive him over the edge, something you have done many times before, you want to give him something you know will put him out of commission for the rest of the night.

 ou push him off, and out, of you which pulls a dramatic whine from the man who was enjoying your warmth. You push him onto his back and straddle his hips. He whimpers, readying himself to feel you slide down onto his cock.  This is usually how you end things. He comes the fastest in this position so it's become your go to 'finishing move'. You want to give him one last ride that will hopefully satiate him.

Sliding yourself over his length a few times, coating him in your slick, you guide him to your entrance and sheath his cock inside you in one swift motion. You grab his throat immediately and he lets out the most pathetic sound. You can tell he's already fucked out and you have to stop yourself from laughing. It's honestly adorable how quickly he falls apart like this.

“Yeah? You like that, princess" you tease, in that sultry tone that goes straight to his dick. This pushes him right over the edge and before you can even start grinding on him, his back is arching off the mattress and he grabs your hips with a bruising grip as he spills deep into you. He thrashes his head back and forth on the pillow and he's sucking in short, shallow breaths. Once he's you've pulled every last drop from him, he attempts to open his eyes, not yet fully aware of his surroundings.

There is one thing he can see and feel as the aftershocks rip through him, and that's you. So, he pulls you down to his chest, and you bury your face in his neck. You start planting kisses up his neck and across his jaw whispering sweet praises to him. You then cradle his face, and rub your thumbs back and forth across his cheeks, in attempt to help bring him down from his high. You rest your forehead against his, trying to get him to match his breathing to yours and that seems to work.

You eventually move down his body to clean him off with your tongue. He yanks at your hair but he goes back and forth between pulling you closer and trying to push you off. Next you have to take care of yourself, not wanting to drip his cum all over the skin you just licked clean. Usually, he’d enthusiastically clean his spend out of you with his tongue, but he’s still recovering so you scoop it out with your fingers and feed it to him. He happily accepts and he lazily licks at your fingers while you stroke his hair.

You eventually cuddle up next to him and he moves behind you again, placing you back into his arms. "I hope that was enough. If you start to miss me just imagine me on top of you like that again. I want you like that when I get back. I'll ride you just like I did tonight, but I'm not stopping until I'm satisfied." you smirk and you turn your head over your shoulder to look up at him.

He gives you a bashful, almost guilty look as he points to the nightstand and says, "I won't need to imagine." You follow his finger and your eyes land on the phone propped up, pointed directly at the both of you. Your eyes widen a little. You've given him permission to film you whenever, wherever, but you're almost always privy to it, acting oblivious but knowing exactly what he's up to. A smile tugs at your lips and a warmth spread across your skin as you wonder how many more videos he has of you when you had been none the wiser.

You turn back to him, and say, "Creep" , but follow quickly with, "Send that to me." and he chuckles softly and nods. As you turn away, he pulls you closer, nuzzling into your neck. It doesn't take long for you to start to fall asleep, warmed by his body and lulled by the rise and fall of his chest as you feel it move against you. Before you can drift off completely, you feel him shift, followed by his semi-hard cock stretching you once more. You can't believe it. You're a little impressed that he's even able to get aroused at all after the long day AND night that you had spent together. But, as much as you love him there's no way you can go again.

After a small gasp at the intrusion, you slide your hand into his hair and yank, commanding, "No. No more."

He hisses at the harsh tug, but assures you, "I just want to fall asleep inside you. Nothing more. I promise." You sigh. "Please?" he begs, and you can't help but give in. He's lucky you love the full feeling of having him inside you. In a weird way, it's actually comforting.

"Fine." You let go of his hair and he pulls you closer, now fully seated inside you. He sighs dreamily at the feeling.

You add, "But I'm serious, no more. Don't make me tie you down to the bed just so I can get some sleep.", only half joking. If this is how he's acting just at the thought of you leaving you can't imagine the desperate mess he'll be when you return. You can't wait.

Doctor's Orders

Blue Jones x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 18: Dacryphilia

Summary: Blue's been sent to an asylum himself for his crimes.

A/N: This was meant to be for kinktober 2023 (I'm so sorry). Once again, what have I done?

Warnings: oh dead, blood, injuries (Blue gets cut by an orderly), Blue having a bit of a blood kink, Blue being a masochist, p in v sex, kissing, swearing, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 1209

Blue whines, tears streaming down his face. There’s blood in his mouth from his split bottom lip. He struggles on the bed, his wrists and ankles strapped down. 

The orderly gives him a gruesome smile and then starts slicing into his side with a scalpel. 

Blue screams, swears and growls. “You fucking-”

“Oh, come on,” the orderly tuts, “I’ve read ‘bout all those things you’ve done, all those things you did to those girls. You think this is any different?” 

Blue shrieks his throat raw, thrashing. 

“Shouldn’t have spat on me in line today, Jones.” He giggles. 

“Let me the fuck out.” 

“Language.” He tuts, “Don’t make me gag you.” 

“I-”

The door to Blue’s room opens with a slam, and the orderly jumps, the scalpel drops to the floor. 

He freezes when he sees you, arms crossed. 

“Doc, I… I can explain.” He holds his hands up, visibly shaking. 

“Sutton,” you clench your jaw. “What do you think you’re doing here?” 

“I… I…” 

“Torturing patients.” You shake your head as you step into the room, three orderlies follow you. Blue recognises them as part of your ‘personal guard’. “Take him to Dr Bateman.” 

Sutton gasps, shaking his head rapidly. “No, please, no! I didn’t, you can’t-”

The other orderlies grab his arms. 

“Oh, I can’t?” You ask, the sound of your voice is almost kind. 

He swallows, tears in his eyes. “Please.” 

You nod your head to the side and your orderlies drag him screaming from the room. Slowly you shut the door and turn back to Blue. 

You take him in for a moment, the cut on his side, the tears in his eyes, how he’s rubbed his wrists raw trying to escape. 

He sniffs and gives you a soft look. “Thanks, Doc. ‘Preciate it.” 

He lays limp as you walk over and quietly untie his wrists and ankles. 

“What did you do to Sutton?” 

He pauses, anxiety twisting in his belly, “I spat on him in line up.” 

You smile and Blue laughs once. 

Lightly, you touch around the cut. It’s not deep thankfully. “I’ll take you to medical.”

Blue groans and takes a sharp gasp of breath. “Wait, Doc.” He grabs your wrist and presses your hand firmer, makes your fingers skate across the wound. He shivers. 

You pause and then look at his dark eyes and the quickly hardening bulge in his asylum issued sweats. “This turn you on?” You ask with a quirk of an eyebrow. 

He moans, louder this time as you press firmer against the cut, blood oozing over your fingers. 

“A bit,” he bites his lip. “That and,” he swallows, “You coming in on a white horse to save me.” 

“I’ll have to add this to your masochist notes.” You said deadpan, and press harder. 

He swears under his breath, wriggling as his cock fills dizzyingly quickly. “I can see it in your face, you like it too.” 

“I never said I wasn’t a sadist.” You smile.

“You like it, like seeing me crying and bleeding all over the place. Like seeing me weak.” He leans up, kissing you roughly. “Like it that I’m at your mercy.” 

“Did you ever think that I like it when you’re excited?” You bite his bottom lip and he groans, his eyes rolling back. 

“Please fuck me, however you want. Get your fingers wet with my blood and then shove them up my ass, I don’t fucking care.” 

You grab his jaw, holding him in place as he wriggles and writhes excitedly. 

“If you don’t behave, I’ll send you to Dr Bateman too.” 

Blue moans. “Fuck, yes.” He shivers as you push him back down onto the bed and fully pull off his t-shirt. “Did he watch the last video?” 

“He did.” You pull down his sweats.

“Did he like it?” Blue asks eagerly. 

You smile. “Very much.” 

“You think he’ll watch this one?” He keeps his eyes fixed on you eagerly as you climb on top of him, straddling his hips and pulling your skirt up around your waist. 

“I’m sure of it.” 

Blue whines, reaching out to squeeze your thighs and caress your bare pussy. “Fuck.” He glides his fingers through your folds, groaning louder at the wetness he finds. “Can you sit on my face?” 

“After.”

He shivers and nods eagerly. “I’ll clean you up, I promise.” 

“Good boy Blue,” you mutter and smile when he moans. You raise yourself up and take his hot, hard length in hand, lining yourself up before you sink down. 

Blue screams out, digging his fingers into your inner thighs, his toes curling. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You grin at him as he whines, pressing hard against the cut once more as you grind and bounce. 

Swears fall endlessly out of his mouth, so fast it doesn’t seem like he is drawing breath. 

“Good?”

“So good Doc, so fucking good. This pussy’s gonna kill me.” He gasps, rocking with you. 

“Tell me why this,” you dig your finger into his wound slightly and he moans sweetly, “is so good?”

“Just issss.” Blue bucks up unthinkingly, his body moving on autopilot. 

You press deeper and he jolts, nearly coming on the spot. “Tell me.”

He whines desperately, fresh tears in his eyes. 

You slow your hip, take your hand away from him.

“Nooo, no, no, no, no,” he grabs at your hand, trying to press it back to his side as he jerks his lips. 

You give him a light smack around the face as he moans low.

“Again Doc, please.”

“If you’re not going to tell me why, then I’ve had enough of your speaking.” You say firmly. 

He groans again, whining, and you shove your bloody fingers into his mouth.

His eyes widen, his tongue flicking against your skin as you push them further in. The sounds he lets out are sinful as he sucks, rolling and rocking as you move with him. 

You press your thumb against his bloody lip and he sobs in pleasure as the split widens. He tenses, his eyes rolling back slightly and you know he’s close. 

You pull your fingers from his mouth with a pop and lightly smack his face, hitting the opposite cheek.

“Doc, dooccc,” he whimpers. “Gonna come, I can’t,” he cries out when you lean forward and grab his chin, squeezing his jaw until he opens his mouth wide with a sob. 

He holds his tongue out and you spit into his mouth. Blue swallows eagerly, your saliva mixing with the blood from his lip and the weight in his stomach snaps. 

Pleasure paralysis him as he comes, pumping hot and thick deep inside you until he feels lightheaded from screaming. 

He collapses completely onto the bed, going limp for a second as he breathes hard and sweat rolls down his skin.

You stroke his face, kissing his temple and murmuring soft words in his ear. 

“Doc,” he takes hold of your arm, his voice groggy, “Come sit on my face, you haven’t had a good time yet.” 

“Shh,” you soothe, patting his hair. “We can do that in a minute, I want you to relax first.”

“Doc-”

“Doctor’s orders.” 

He smiles softly at your stern tone and presses his face further into your touch. 

Thank you for reading!

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