Latest Posts by ewusernamessuck-offical - Page 4

Feeling domestic rn🤭

John Price and Reader whos good at cooking is the best pair that could happen.

John is a big man with a bigger appetite

Sure, military food is there and all that. But that's just it. It's military food. No soul, no love, and most importantly, no taste. It's just something to keep people up and running.

So who could blame him when he devoured your homemade, eggs, and hasbrowns in a minute.

Eating like he never ate (which in some case probably true)

Oh you couldn't finish your plate? He's there

Oh you made too much portion for two people? Invite the boys.

You made food? He's in love.

He would never complain if you suddenly asked him to fetch ingredients, he doesn't care if its in the ass crack of dawn. He will get you your soy sauce, garlic and salt cus whatever you do with those is worth the errand run.

He would be open to try foods outside the typical english dishes. Although I imagine him handling spice on a lower level only. That's not stopping him from tasting food you've made.

Of course, after every end of the day theres dessert.

So get on the table and let him have a feast.

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. :(

Dom Reader>>>> FOAMING AT THE MOUTH‼️‼️‼️

I love good writing 🤧

                     THE BAAAAD TOUCH!

synopsis. there’s a very thin line between the way animals fuck on the discovery channel and the way you fuck them. featuring shameless, rough sex with the arcane men, and a third secret option at the end. jayce, vander, silco, viktor.

tags. top! reader, sub! jayce, vander, silco, viktor. reader has a cock. rough anal sex, creampie(s), exhibitionism, infidelity, cumslut! jayce, doggy, riding, size difference, huge cock, belly bulge, size queen! viktor, sweat kink, strength kink, breeding kink, implied marathon sex, dirty talk, degradation, praise kink, excessive amounts of manhandling, age difference, established relationships. cock-hungrified men. (lmao)

a/n. inspired by this song from bloodhound gang.

“does she know?” you pant into his ear, grip strong and sweaty on his hips, and jayce feels dirty, the way he’s being mounted like a bitch. “does she know about the way i fuck you? the sounds you make when i fill your pretty hole up?”  

he shudders, shaking his head, nails raking down your biceps as he tries to lift his head, to be less vulnerable in the way you’re taking him, but to no avail. he feels the hot burn of your palm at the back of his neck, and he finds himself back with his cheek pressed against the sheets, back arching with the violence of forcing his body to accommodate both pleasure and pain plowing away at his dignity. 

 “fuck!” he gasps, “let’s not, nnngh! talk about this. not, not right now.” it’s not the first time you’ve brought mel up in a conversation, but hardly ever more than an offhand comment, something to tease, something for fun. this… this was unknown territory. 

“why? you don’t like it?” there’s a strange displacement in your voice, a touch whiny, as though you were pouting at his denial. jayce thinks he’s going insane, because as manipulative as you were, there was no way he could say no to you. not with that look on your face. the one he can’t see but knows it’s there. 

“doesn’t matter,” jayce whispers. “it’s not ri- right.” 

you want to laugh. it’s not right? so it’s all right and just if he sneaks into your bed almost every other night for you to get him off simply because said girlfriend never could—nights of sweat and sinful lovemaking that end with him sneaking out of your room with a limp—but it’s not okay if you want to talk about it? how was that fair? 

“you don’t like her anyway, do you?” you mutter. “you should just get rid of her and be with me.” you tighten your hold on him. you want it to bruise. you want him to go home with your marks on his body. you want mel to ask about them and jayce squirming as he tries to think of a stupid excuse to fool her again. faulty gym equipment. sparring session gone wrong. you know all of his excuses. it’s funny, the way he tries to patch things up. “this is cruel… to the both of us. don’t you wanna get this over with?” 

“it’s- unh, complicated!” jayce moans, but there’s nothing complicated about it, he just doesn’t want to talk. doesn’t want to feel the shame and guilt making his guts tangle and heart pound—the way you fit into him so perfectly, so innately, like you’ve always belonged inside him, a missing piece to his puzzle. 

he bites back a whine as the thick head of your cock pushes against his swollen prostate, and he’s not sure if he can even feel his legs at this point. it’s humiliating, the way you’re cooing nasty words into his ear, handprints branding his hips as you tug him up only to slam downwards against him, pushing him further down into the mattress with every heavy thrust. 

“why? what’s keeping you then? hah. don’t tell me. does she fuck you like this too?” you snarl, sucking hot purple bruises down the column of his neck, salt and iron underneath your tongue making you hungry, and he keens. “so desperate for cock you’d let your girlfriend fuck you, jayce? well? does she fuck you as good as i do?” 

“noo,” jayce slurs, shaking his head, “nothing’s as good. you’re the best. love it. love you.” 

“really?” you bark out a laugh, and he nods dumbly, like his body’s conditioned to respond to your every whim, wanting to please, to serve. “well, i don’t see it at all. only thing you could ever be in love with is my cock.” 

“ah- ah, yeah, that too,” he whines, “love you more.” 

“liar,” you growl, and he sobs out at the way your length drags across his walls, thick and girthy, missing his prostate on purpose. it’s a punishment, jayce knows. he’s sorry. he feels so guilty. “pretty slutty liar. you’ll do anything to get stuffed, won’t you? even if it means cheating on your little girlfriend. you’ll even enjoy it, the moment you break her heart.” 

jayce shakes his head, tears blurring his vision. he can’t even say anything at this point, with the way you’re forcing him to take, fucking the words out of him. he can’t help being addicted to this. it’s too good. mel would understand, wouldn’t she? she would, if only she could have a taste of it. it’s not his fault. not really. 

“you probably think she’ll never know. you probably think she’ll never find out.” you’re talking again, but the sounds buzz by, barely intelligible. jayce swallows, letting your accusation wash over him. he has been careful, hasn’t he. surely she won’t know. surely she can’t know. “the way you start crying when you’re about to cum. you think she’ll never know about that, right?” 

he doesn’t know what you mean, but it’s so hard to think. there’s wetness on his cheeks and the low flame in his belly has blazed into a forest fire. he wants to cum. he needs it. he needs it hard and rough, bruises on his waist and hips and love bites on his collarbones, hard, heavy thrusts that make him feel dizzy and high and stupid, drowning him in the throes of pleasure that only you can give to him. 

“please,” jayce begs, tears streaming down his face. “i want, ngh… ah, want your cum in me.” 

and before he knows it, there’s the rush of hot cum flooding his hole, the sweaty press of your chest against his back, your hips trembling and bucking against his, and it’s so good it makes him see stars. but you don’t stop. it’s messy and filthy, and pure bliss when he feels you snake a hand into his hair and wrench his head up, rough and careless just the way he likes it. 

his eyes roll back before his cock starts helplessly spurting at the sight of mel standing in the doorway, watching him being bred like a whore.

VANDER

. . . vander thinks he maybe maybe made a mistake, telling you to be rough with him. because this is exactly the kind of rough he likes. 

“oh, fuck, sweetness,” he moans, arousal bleeding into his guttural voice as he arches his back and cants his hips backwards to receive your thrusts, taking you deeper inside, his ass bouncing every time you meet his hips with a wet, nasty ‘pap’. “t-thaat’s it, kid. right there, fuck, harder…” 

he’s clutching his pillow tightly, waves of pleasure shackling him to the bed as you’re pounding away at his hole from behind. you’ve snaked a hand into his hair to wrench his head up roughly, and a low whine pushes its way past his lips, punctuated by a sharp, deadly thrust aimed at his prostate. he’s pretty sure his own cock’s rubbed raw against the sheets, spurting so much pre there’s a sticky, slippery pool underneath him—easing the steamy push and glide. 

there are stars bursting at the corners of his eyes, threatening to consume his vision, and he can vaguely feel his toes curl and thighs spasm at every brush of your cock against his bundle of nerves. there’s sweat dripping down his face, a salty tang on his tongue, and he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, hearing nothing but his own heavy pants and groans, attuned to the rhythm of your thrusts. it’s too good. almost makes him feel young again. he’s halfway through his forties, and yet you’re fucking him like he’s twenty. 

vander can feel your hands all over him, pressing heavy bruises onto the tender fat of his waist and hips, bodily dragging him back onto your cock every time you ram forward, making sure to put your entire weight behind it. the mattress is letting out horrible creaking sounds, the headboard of the bed slamming into the wall in perfect tempo, and the both of you are going to regret this later, but fuck, he doesn’t care. 

it’s addicting. it’s violent. vander shouldn’t be enjoying this, but he is. 

“fuck, love, y’er gonna make me cum already,” he chokes out, and it’s more of a drunken slur, really — there’s something about the way you’re treating him that makes him dizzy and weak at the knees. his fists are clenched, grasping at the bedsheets every time he feels like snaking a hand between his legs and jerking off to your thrusts. he wants to enjoy it, savour it—the way you’re taking him, pressing him into the mattress like you’re trying to break the bed before you break him, gaze hungry enough to swallow him up in your lust. 

“go ahead and cum, vander,” you drawl, grabbing a handful of his ass before sharply spanking him across, the sting rewarding you with a full-body shiver. “i want you to cum like it’s your last night on earth.” 

who the absolute fuck does this kid think he is, vander thinks, and he quickly buries his face back into the pillow because he knows he’s going to get loud. you’re insane. insanely bad at dirty talk, but your hunger makes up for it. he’s never liked dirty talking that much, but fuck, if you weren’t something different. cum like it’s his last night on earth? he really underestimated how greedy you were. 

“cocky,” he wheezes instead, once he’s caught his breath, “y’er gonna, haah, hafta fuck me harder for that to happen.” it’s yet another bad decision, and he’s digging his own grave, he knows it. as if you aren’t already fucking him within an inch of his life—the bulbous shape of your cockhead digging into his prostate with such immaculate precision, pressing the shape of your handprints into his skin as you fuck him with your eyes, your hands and your cock. 

hungry. intense. unforgettable. vander doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of it. 

before he can even breathe, you’ve hooked one arm under his thigh, tossing him over onto his back like you’re flipping a fucking pancake, and vander’s not a delicate man by all means. without wasting a second, you’re pushing inside him again, groaning shamelessly as his wet, warm cave engulfs you perfectly. vander makes a desperate noise, eyes squeezing shut—there’s no pillow to muffle his cries or hide his expressions from you this time, but he’s far too close to be embarrassed. 

the new position’s got you so deep inside him, and it’s getting harder to breathe, almost as though he could feel you all the way to his throat. it’s uncomfortable and very inconsiderate of his aching back, but the mind-numbing pleasure hammering away at his sweet spot makes up for it. 

“s-so fuckin’ good, kid,” he pants out, arching his back with a moan as you reach down to grope at his tits, the muscles plump and soft with tender age, hole clenching around you tightly every time you tug at his perky nipples. his cock’s all leaky, drooling over his stomach and making a mess, and he’s so aroused it’s almost endearing. “fuck me… god, fuck me.” 

he’s going to cum hands-free, vander thinks, and shit, you’re going to be so smug about this after you’re done with having your way with him. vander sneaks a glance at you—eyelids fluttering, making little grunts of pleasure every time you bully your way into his tight wet warmth. it embarrassingly makes the back of his neck burn, makes him feel all hot and sexy and wanted. 

“yeah? best cock you’ve ever taken, vander?” you purr, and his breath stutters, seizing up with a yell and then he’s fucking cumming with you balls-deep inside him. guess you’ll take that as a yes.

SILCO

silco doesn’t know how long he’s been bent over in that same fucking position, but he doesn’t plan on making you stop anytime soon. 

“darling, not so rough. . .” he gasps out, nails raking down the expensive wood of his office desk while you plow away at him from behind, his hole sopping wet but tight, as though you haven’t cum two times in him already. he can feel his knees knocking into the hard front of the desk with every brutal thrust, the weeping tip of his erection grazing the cool mahogany, the pleasure inside him making his lower belly burn with a flame he hasn’t felt in a long time. 

“why?” you grin, draping yourself over his half-clothed stature, his pants yanked down to his ankles as he’s bent over to take. you shuffle forward, making sure his ass is pressed snugly against your crotch before giving an experimental roll of your hips, always reaching deeper, for more. “worried that they’ll hear?” 

silco presses his lips together in a thin line, tilting his face away from yours, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he were sulking. you laughed. it was just too easy to piss him off sometimes. 

“i’m just playing around, baby. your office is soundproofed, no?” you straightened yourself, running a hand over the smooth, sensitive expanse of his back before returning to your firm grip on his bruised hips. he gave a shuddering sigh, trying to relax as you started to rock into him again with strong, steady thrusts. 

“it doesn’t matter,” he rasps, “we’re, hah, being too loud… sweetheart. s-sevika is right outside.” 

“don’t care,” you mutter. “i’m pent up. ‘least you can do is let me fuck you stupid. you’ll let me, right?” 

silco makes a noise at the back of his throat, half from displeasure, the other half from the sharp curl of arousal in his lower abdomen, making his cock twitch and leak. fuck if it didn’t turn him on when you talked to him like this. he settles for burying his face into his arms, preparing himself for whatever you were going to put him through. 

“be gentle,” he whispers, letting out a shuddering sigh. “i’m not so young anymore.” 

you could feel a grin pulling at the corners of your lips. yeah. sure, you were going to be gentle with him. with him looking like that. 

“hngh, r-right there…” silco mewls out, knees buckling repeatedly as he tries not to think about how loud he’s being. he supposes he could gag himself with something, your fingers, maybe, get them warm and wet for you while you use his face as leverage to fuck him harder, but he knows how much his noises spur you on, and right now he really doesn’t want to piss you off. not when you’re indulging him so well. “that’s it… you’re so good… darling.” 

“not so shy anymore?” you hummed, licking a hot stripe up his neck, his gasp twisting into a whine. “think we can make you louder?” 

“sweetheart,” he sighs as he feels your hand wrap around his throat, and he tilts his head back to let you grip it properly. “you already know what i want.” 

“well, i don’t think so.” you smile, leaning down to press your cheek against his, working away from behind with short, firm thrusts that steal his breath away. “remind me. did we use the magic word yet?” 

but just as he’s about to answer with snark, there’s the rap of fists against his office door, and silco feels his heart plummet. not now, when things were about to get good—this was the worst timing possible. “everything alright, boss?” 

“yes,” silco pants, “fuck… yes.” 

you can feel his nails dig into the back of your thigh, warning you not to pull out. you’re thick and heavy, resting against his stomach, and silco feels so fucking good and full. you can’t stop now. not until he’s had his fill. he can vaguely feel your warm seed trailing its way down his perineum in a slow trickle, and fuck, he wants more. wants to feel stuffed even without you inside him, drowsy and content. 

he blinks, brows furrowing as he catches himself fantasizing about you yet again. should he even be having thoughts like these in his forties? was this healthy? sex with you was life-changingly—and now apparently hormone-alteringly good. 

“sir?” sevika’s growl interrupts his train of thought. and yeah, not to mention—his second-in-command is right outside his office, while all he can think about is cock. shit. your big, leaky cock, buried to the hilt inside his hole. he wonders if it’ll be gaping once you’re done with him. and oh. cum. loads of your cum, filling up every inch of space inside him. making it hard to breathe. making him swel— “is someone in there with you?” 

“yes,” silco wheezes dumbly as you roll your hips against him with meaning, forcing him to take you deeper. he trembles, shifting back slightly to fuck himself on your cock, forcing a sharp inhale from you. “we are busy. you’re, oh… dismissed, sevika.” 

the silence is loud, save for the almost-silent squelches of your cock maneuvering inside him with all the cum stored in his belly. 

you can feel his heart pounding from the way your chest is pressed against his bare back. or maybe it’s your own. his walls squeeze around you, sinfully tight, pulling a muffled moan from where you have your teeth sunken into his shoulder. fuck. he’s—silco’s actually into this. you’d have never guessed he would be such a freak, for lack of a better word, but with how things were going . . . you didn’t mind it. not one bit. it drove you crazy with want, if anything. 

“... if you say so, boss.” the sound of retreating footsteps fills you with both relief and disappointment, but before you could even process what that means, you can feel silco gazing at you through his lashes, low and scrutinizing and something needy. 

“did i say you could stop?” silco grunts. “fuck me.” 

you let out a shaky sigh, hips already bucking back into the warm mould of your cock—and the next sound that drives past his lips is a loud and unabashed sob of your name. 

you think you might have unlocked something new in your lover.

VIKTOR

“it won’t fit,” viktor slurs, moans tumbling out of his mouth as he gives a shaky roll of his hips. he’s not quite there yet, with only the tip sucked in, but he’s making good progress. “i’m terribly s-sorry, dear. your… appendage. it’s too big.” 

his eyes flutter shut at the feeling of your hands forming a ring around his waist, strong and firm, a warm assurance that there was a possibility… although slight, that he’d make it. 

“it’ll fit,” you murmur, kissing the sensitive spot at the back of his ear, the one that makes him suck in a sharp breath and shudder. “you’re doing very good, love. just… a little more, yeah?” 

viktor looks down. it’s nowhere near a little more. you’re barely halfway in and he’s already thinking about quitting—has been, since the stupidly huge head of your cock breached his rim, making him feel a stretch that no amount of fingers or plastic toys could replicate. it was something extraordinary. overwhelmingly so. 

“please,” he mewls, forehead dropping to rest on your shoulder. “t-touch me? i think i’ll probably, hah, ease up a little if you would… oh, yes. thank you, dear. thank you.” 

it’s… in simple words, too much. you’re usually very considerate, taking your time with him with your fingers, rubbing on his tender walls until he loosens enough for you to slip another one in. the night would then end with you fucking his thighs, sticky and slick with his own cum. it’s good. it’s enough. that was until he started having thoughts of what it would feel like if you were inside him. 

but viktor would’ve never imagined it would be like this. the difference in size was just… comical. you were so deep inside him already, the impossible girth forming an obscene bulge over his abdomen, making him whine with the fullness. if this is already what it feels like to have you inside, then just what would it feel like to have you spill inside him?

he can’t lie—he’s spent nights waiting for you to fall asleep first so that he could scoop up some of the cum you had missed on the sheets, quietly fingering himself with the cold slickness. it didn’t feel right, even if it was yours. it just wasn’t the same. he wanted, no, needed to feel it for himself. 

it doesn’t help, the way you’re stroking him, ever so gentle with him. your huge palm covers his entire length without having to move much, huge thumb rubbing at his leaking tip, and viktor’s never been so hard before in his whole life. he’s so close already, hole fluttering around you uncontrollably, and it’s almost cute how it looks like it’s going to swallow you up. maybe it is. 

maybe it’ll fit. 

“last few inches,” you pant, fingers trembling slightly where you’re struggling not to press bruises into the cup of his hips. “can i-? please, vik. it’s so good. you’re so good. i just need a little more. please, baby.” 

“yes,” viktor blurts out, before he realises just what he agreed to—but within the next second he can feel something abnormally large pushing its way past his tight walls, faster and rougher than before, even as he tries to clench and hold still—it’s mean and a little too much, but then the back of his thighs meets hot skin and he nearly blacks out with the stretch of it all. 

“ngh,” viktor keens, trembling with exhaustion as he tries to settle into your lap comfortably with such a large intrusion within him. “soo full…” 

you sigh in pleasure, hands going back to his hips where they belong, pushing him down until you’re satisfied that he’s properly taken everything you’ve given him. it’s not a demand, viktor thinks, more like a comfort. telling him that you’ve always known he would’ve been able to take you in the first place. that this is where he belongs, filled to the brim with you and you only. 

he lets out a shuddering moan when you start to slowly bounce him on your lap, lifting him up with ease a good inch or two, before rolling your hips to meet his, pushing yourself deeper. “shit, vik…” you groan, and he cries out with every brush against his prostate, the sheer size of you making it impossible to miss it. “you’re so tight, baby… so perfect. i’m right here with you, okay? easy now, you’re doing so good.” 

you’re so good to him as always, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, but it’s different this time, and fuuck. viktor thinks he’s dying with how good it feels. he tries to steer his hips, to actually ride you instead of having you manhandling him up and down your cock, but there’s hardly any friction left now that he’s properly stretched, and any attempt results in him collapsing back to his knees, the pleasure making him weak. 

he settles for hanging onto you, arms wrapping around your neck and choking out little whimpers as you rock upwards into his waiting hole again and again, toes curling and nails scratching red trails down your back with the all-consuming pleasure.

it’s driving him crazy, the fullness, the simple thought of you pumping your seed and sperm into him, of making love with you. it’s nothing like the way it was written in the textbooks he had spent nights researching—it’s beyond anything he would have ever imagined. 

“please,” viktor sobs out, feeling strangely empty every time you pull out halfway, as ironic as it was—as though there was a chance you would leave him fully. the thought of it hurt. if only you could fit inside him forever. if only. “stay…” he cries, “cum inside. m-make me yours.” 

you lean forward, pressing your lips against his in a hurried kiss, at the same time grinding so deep viktor thinks, for a split of a second, that that might be you he’s feeling in his stomach. the broken wail he gives is loud and muffled, and you lap up the drool on the side of his face, watching as your lover’s eyes flutter shut at the feeling of being filled, properly this time, to the brink of spilling.

masterlist!

Loveee sub jayce 😋😋

Mirror Sex Jayce Talis x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1067

Enjoy!

As the dim lights of your bedroom cast a warm glow, you found yourself standing before a full-length mirror, your eyes locking with your own reflection. Your gaze shifted slightly to the side, looking over to the delicious Jayce Talis. His eyes, filled with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness, met yours in the mirror. His dark hair fell perfectly across his forehead, framing his handsome face. He stood naked, his body on full display, waiting for your command. You admired his slender yet defined physique, the way his skin glistened under the soft lighting. You took a step closer to the mirror, your reflection now standing right behind his. Reaching out, you gently ran your fingers through his hair, sending shivers down his spine. "Relax, my love." you whispered seductively into his ear, your warm breath tickling his neck. “Be a good boy and touch yourself for me angel.” You whisper, kissing his back delicately. Obediently, he began to caress his own body, his fingers gliding down his chest, across his nipples, causing them to harden further. You watched in the mirror as his hands travelled lower, his fingers brushing against his flat stomach, inching closer to his throbbing cock. "That's it, my sweet boy," you encouraged, your voice growing huskier. “Remember though baby, no touching until I tell you.” He whimpered softly, his eyes closing briefly as he fought the urge to grasp his aching shaft. His hands paused at the top of his thighs, his fingers twitching, longing to wrap around his length. Your fingers danced down his side as you teased him. His soft whimpers were music to your ears. You tentatively wrapped your well manicured hand around his aching cock giving him a slow stroke. His eyes closed in pleasure as you continued your painfully slow pace. “Y/N, please..." he begged, his voice hoarse. "I need to feel you." You chuckled softly, a dominant laugh that sent shivers down his spine. "Not yet, my pet. We're not done playing." You abruptly stopped and began to walk in front of him. “Do try and stay a quiet pet.” You said playfully as you sank to your knees, instantly coming face to face with his angry red tip. 

He moaned, his fingers trembling as he tried his best to keep them placed firmly on his thighs, palm down. You inched your face closer to his hard, throbbing cock before letting his tip slide past your lips. The groan that elicited from Jayce's lips was as sinful as they come. You moved to envelope him in your mouth, as much as you could, with the rest being stroked with your hand. The other hand was placed atop of Jayce's on his thigh to balance yourself. The pathetic whines and whimpers coming from Jayce's lips as you sucked his pretty dick off were going straight to your core. “Fuck Y/N…” He groaned as you played with his balls, his head falling back unable to comprehend how good he feels right now. “Shit..I'm so close..wanna cum in mommy.” Jayce babbled, not being able to completely understand what he's saying. You smirked as you popped him out of your mouth. Standing up you looked at how dishevelled Jayce looked, already so fucked out just from your mouth. “Mommy huh?” You teased, kissing along his chest. He moaned lustfully as he nodded pathetically. You guided him to the bed, flopping on your back as Jayce slots himself between your thighs. “You wanna cum in mommy baby boy?” You asked as you guided his leaking tip to your entrance. Jayce nodded as he buried his face in your neck, “Need it…please.” He begged pitifully. And who where you to deny such a polite request from such a pretty boy. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist hinting for him to move and move he did, In on swift motion he nestled himself so deep inside your velvet walls. “Oh! Fuck momma.” Jayce cried as he bottomed out. Your cunt sucked him in so tightly, like it was meant for him, it took everything in him not to paint your insides then and there. “Gonna cum gods please!” Jayce mewled pitifully as he thrusted slowly in and out of you. “Wait for mommy baby, then we can cum together yeah? You wanna feel momma cum round your pretty cock?” You teased, grinding your hips down into his. He nodded frantically and started thrusting just the same. His hips met yours at such a brutal pace you knew that there would be bruises in the morning. Pulling his cock in and out of you with such precision, he was hitting your G-spot every time. At this rate, you weren’t lasting long. “Fuck angel, such a skilful cock. Jesus, you’re going to make Mommy cum so quick!” You cried out as he continued to nudge that special spot inside you.  “Please mommy, it hurts..need to cum.” Jayce panted, his hot breath feeling heavy on your neck. “Cum for me baby boy, fill momma up.” You moan, feeling your release creep up on you. Jayce's pace slowed slightly before he slammed his hips into yours forcefully, burying himself deep inside your walls. “Fuck! mommy!” Jayce moaned loudly, his eyes rolling back into his head. His warm cum filled and coated your walls so intensely that it triggered your own release. “God Jayce!” You cried as you clamped down around Jayce's softening cock. The feeling of your walls clamping down around him, while not a new sensation, still caught him off guard every time. He buried himself deeper, if it were possible, inside you savouring the feeling of you cumming round his cock. “You did so good for me, Jayce; such a good boy for mommy.” You panted out as best you could, still coming down from your high. You gently patted his damp hair soothingly as Jayce slowly removed himself from you. A little nod and whine was all you got from Jacye as he cuddled up into your side. You both lay there for a while, enjoying the feeling of being close to one another. “Shall we get a shower, my love?” You asked, kissing his still sweaty forehead. Jayce nodded, picking you up bridal style. “Round two?” He asked, kissing your ear softly. You blushed and nodded, knowing you were in for an eventful, sexual night.

Currently doing a writing project, saving on my page for me and others :}}

Hey, random writing tip: Instead of having something be a ridiculously unlikely coincidence, you can make the thing happen due to who this particular character is as a person. Instead of getting stuck on "there's no logical reason to why that would happen", try to bend it into a case of "something like this would never happen to anybody but this specific fucker." Something that makes your reader chuckle and roll their eyes, going "well of course you would."

Why would the timid shy nerd be at a huge sketchy downtown black market bazaar? Well, she's got this beetle colony she's raising that needs a very specific kind of leaf for nest material, and there only place to get it is this one guy at the bazaar that sells that stuff. Why would the most femininely flamboyant guy ever known just happen to have downright encyclopedic knowledge about professional boxing? Well, there was this one time when he was down bad for this guy who was an aspiring professional boxer...

I know it sounds stupidly obvious when written out like this, but when you're up close to your writing, it's hard to see the forest for the trees. Some time ago I finished reading a book, where the whole plot hinges on character A, who is 100% certain that character B is dead, personally getting up and coming down from the top rooms of a castle, to the gates, at 3 am, to come look at some drunk who claims to be this guy who died 17 years ago. Why would A do that, if he's sure that B is dead?

Because he's a Warrior Guy from a culture of Loyalty And Honour, and hearing that someone's got the audacity to go about claiming to be his long-lost brother in battle, there is no other option than to immediately personally go down there to beat the ever-loving shit out of this guy. Who then turns out to actually be character B, after all.

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.”

Me finally controlling my feed to show viktor fics

have you ever tried this one?

and it’s just you ontop of viktor

look, i’m not saying he hasn’t fucked (look at him, he has had partners before but never like you, never someone who puts his pleasure before their own) so when you slide a pillow beneath his hips and make sure he is comfy over everything else, oh how his heart stutters in his chest. Viktor already looks at you like you hold the universe in your hands but as you perch yourself above him, hands braced on either side of his head as you grind your sopping cunt over his cock before sinking down on his aching length, he swears you begin to fade into starlight. the edges of his vision blurs as heat blooms in his stomach, pure indulgent undiluted ecstasy fills his veins and tingles in the tips of his fingers. mans is TRANSFIXED on the sight before him as your hips begin to move, slick dripping down your thighs in pearls of opalescent blue in the lowlight of the hexcore (the cot that had been set up in the corner of the lab for when he is too tired to go back to his room has been getting a little more action that it had originally been intended for) Viktor has no idea where to put his hands, what to grab or how hard to hold so you guide his hands to your hips, squeezing his fingers beneath your own before settling your palms on his chest. his heart thumps beneath your skin in a steady rhythm, his breaths shallow as his body adjusts to pleasure coursing through his veins.

“are you okay? nothing hurts?” you’re quick to check in, brows furrowed as your eyes slip down the pillow beneath his hips.

he nods, pushing his head back into the plush cushions as you tense your muscles, squeezing him so deliciously tight he might pass out.

“don’t worry about me, love. just-“ words fail him as his breathing turns ragged, your hips grinding in slow circles above his. “fuck…i-“

Viktor has always been quick of wit, a retort poised on the tip of his tongue at all times but as you begin to drag your hips up and down, cunt sliding over his pulsing cock in slow strokes that has his jaw slackening and eyes rolling, the concept of language leaves him entirely. for a moment it’s as if it is his first time all over again. awkward hands and quick breaths, unable to tear his eyes away from your perfect form as you bounce and grind above him. it’s cute, how innocent he looks beneath you, how bright his cheeks blaze, how red his lips bloom as he bites on the flesh.

“you’ve never done this?” your question is breathless, cheat tightening as the angle has your stomach twisting.

Viktor shakes his head, afraid that if he opens his mouth it would be nothing but whimpers and moans.

“do you feel good?”

another wordless answer in the form of a nod and he thinks he has retained some sense of dignity for the time being, but as you tense your muscles again, his mouth opens and his answer is a whimper.

your body stills above him as your brain registers the sound that has just spilt from your lover’s mouth.

“did you just- was that-?”

“shut up. This is a new thing for me,” Viktor grumbles but he can’t stop the grin that has spread over his cheeks. his hand reaches for your, wrapping around the nape of your neck to pull your face to his. “no one’s ever treated me like this. I can’t expect to know how I might react.”

a/n: pls be nice this is my first arcane fic i just love viktor so much gimmie a hair tie, a pillow for his hips and five minutes i’ll show piltover the real arcane

Really Rally posting PURE GOLD

jake lockley- mistress

from rally: This was written for the beautiful, talented, absolutely amazing soul @silvernight-m for our holiday gift exchange. I had no idea that being in a fandom would be such an important part of my life, and you're such a huge part of that, my friend.

I admire your courage, honesty, and humor. Please scream at me any time you want because I ALWAYS LOVE IT!!!! Thank you for sharing a corner of your life (and pictures of your pets) with me. Also, I went ahead and pasted a mustache on that Jake photo b/c that's how we like 'em.

Summary: Jake & his mistress have a loving, kinky relationship (~1.8k)

---

“Jake, this isn’t a punishment if you ask for it.”

He groans. “I can’t help it. I see you, and I start begging.”

Jake is tied to the bed with Steven’s old restraints. Each of his ankles and wrists snugly secured and pulled apart. Completely at your mercy. The way both of you like it.

You stand at the foot of the bed, arms crossed. “And in your expert opinion, what punishment do you deserve tonight, Jake?”

His cock twitches, already hard and dark, leaking onto his stomach as he lays there helplessly. You’re still dressed in your sweater and pants.

“Don’t know if you noticed, but I grew out my mustache exactly how you like it.”

You walk up the side of the bed slowly, lean forward to give him a gentle pat on the cheek. “And what do you expect me to do with it?”

His hooded eyelids blink at you. “Ride it, mi amor. Obviously.” He licks his lips slowly, pulls at his restraints as if he’d forgotten, for a second, that he’s tied up. “As many hours as you want.”

He grins up at you, but it fades quickly when you don’t respond in kind.

You hold his chin in your hand a little too hard.

“You seem to be forgetting your manners,” you say, steel in every word.

He swallows. “I’m sorry, mistress.”

“Good boy.” You stroke your fingers over his mustache with a sigh. As much as you want to do as he asks, you can’t give in to him. Can’t let him call the shots when he’s the one immobilized and at your mercy. “Jake, do you like touching me?”

You move forward onto the bed, kneeling over him enough so that he gets a eyeful of cleavage.

“Yes, mistress. Greatest privilege of my entire fucking life,” he says.

You smile. “A privilege. A reward, maybe? But you said you wanted to be punished.”

Jake’s eyes dart to your face. He’s caught by his own logic and he knows it. “Uh, mi amor.”

You slap his cheek. Not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to sting. “No, Jake. You don’t get to act like a desperate little slut and expect me to indulge you. You do what I tell you. If I want you to bark, you bark. If I want you to crawl down the street naked, then you will. If I want you to fuck me until your dick falls of, then I’ll get exactly that. Isn’t that how this works?”

“Yes, but-“

“What the fuck did you just say to me? Were you going to contradict me?”

You back off the bed, standing straighter, looming over him.

“No, mistress. Or, yes, mistress. Fuck.” Jake winces, pulling at the cuffs for real this time. They don’t give. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”

“Louder,” you raise your voice.

“I’m sorry,” he almost yells. His chest heaves up and down.

You shake your head. “I’m disappointed.”

A little sound escapes him, almost a whine. His big, brown eyes plead with you. A curl of dark hair is already sticking to his forehead, the rest wild and tangled on the pillow. You tuck a second one underneath so his head is propped up. So he can see down his body and you, when you stand at the end of the bed again.

“Please, I’m sorry. I’ll do anything you want.” He’s calmer now, but you hear the edge in his voice. He needs it now. He needs you to treat him like only you how.

“I like the sound of that.” Your eyes trace his body, lovingly taking in his olive skin, how his muscles tense and tremble, his hips and thick thighs. They settle back on his cock. “That looks almost painful, Jake.”

“It is, mistress,” he pants. “I just want to please you.”

His eyes look down. He’s cowed now, gentler.

Sometimes it takes Jake a few tries to get into the right space to submit to you. But it’s fun for both of you, when you finally break him.

“I want to see you come,” you say with a sweet smile.

His eyes look back up, hopeful.

“Oh no,” you almost laugh, “I’m not going to touch you. That would make it too easy.”

“Mistress, I-“

“And you’re not going to touch yourself either.” You stroke one of his ankles, just above the restraint. “No, Jake, you’re going to lay there, just like that, and you’re going to come for me. If you want to act like a whore, then you’re going to come like one.”

His jaw clenches so tight you almost wonder what kind of argument he’s having with himself (or whomever). It’s not that he’s in pain. It’s not about comfort. He’s frustrated beyond belief. The night hasn’t played out like he wanted it to, and he almost can’t handle it. He doesn’t want to be the brat you’d accused him of being, even though he definitely is.

“You want to stop?” You ask, letting your voice get softer for a second.

He shakes his head, his curly hair brushing back and forth over his forehead. “No, this is fucking great. How’d I ever end up with someone as amazing as you?” He grins, breaking character for a moment before remembering his task, re-focusing. “Okay, mistress, for you, I’ll give it a shot.”

You frown at him. “You’ll do more than give it a shot. Or else I’m going to make you wear a ball gag whenever you’re fronting at home for two weeks.”

Jake doesn’t look scared, not exactly. It’s more anticipation. You can see him doing the math on it. Honestly, he’d probably like to wear the gag. You would too. It’s more fun this way, though.

In the end, he nods. “Okay, I can come for you.” He shifts on the bed. “Mistress, could you keep talking to me? Or yelling at me? The sound of your voice-“

“Would help you get off. So no, Jake. Stop whining and come. Make yourself a pathetic mess for me, baby.” You coo at him.

He hums in his throat, his hips moving ever so slightly. You can only imagine the dirty fantasies he’s conjuring in his mind as his heavy eyelids shut. You see the muscles of his ass clench, his hips rising and falling.

Jake makes a noise of frustration.

“Fuck,” he spits out. His hips sink back down to the bed. He opens his eyes, his breath heavy. “I can’t, mistress. I’m sorry.”

He looks so sad, so angry at himself, that you have to give in a little.

“What were you thinking about?” You ask softly.

Jake’s head shakes subtly.

“Tell me,” you order him.

“The other night. You were sucking Marc off, but you were wearing one of my white button-downs because you were cold. He was so hard on you because you wouldn’t take it off. Your face was a mess. You wanted him to go hard on you, and you wanted to wear a piece of me.” Jake swallows. His cock gets a little harder, so stiff it’s not even touching his stomach anymore. “Marc asked you if you wanted me to front. But you said no. You both did it to torture me. You knew I was watching. I’ve never been so fucking turned on in my life.”

His hips buck up. His head falls back down. He groans loudly.

“You’re right. I am a whore. For you, mistress,” his words barely escape his lips. They’re mostly air as he moves up and down against nothing. Sometimes the tip of his cock hits his stomach and he shakes from the feeling. “Fuck. Fuck. I’m coming. I’m coming for you.”

His hips push high as his hands grab the restraints. He pulls on them, his muscles going tight and flexing as he comes spurts of gorgeous, thick cum onto his own stomach. It drips up his chest, down over his sides, pools onto the bed.

Exhausted, he falls down onto the bed. He tries to catch his breath, a smile on the corner of his lips. “Holy shit, mi amor. Was that good for you?”

You let yourself smile back at him, reaching over to undo the straps on his ankles. “I can’t believe I just stood there and watched that. I wanted to touch you so badly.”

You rub Jake’s ankles, then move to undo his wrists.

“Are you okay?” You ask.

“Of course.” His hand cups your cheek. “Are you okay?”

You kiss him on the lips. “I do like your mustache like this.”

Jake shrugs. “I know. Maybe after my shower, I can take you for a ride.”

He wiggles his upper lip, making you laugh. He reaches into the nightstand for a towel from the stack he keeps there. He gives his body a quick wipe down.

“Why don’t you go lie down on the couch? I’ll make you a snack so you have something to do while I clean up and change the sheets,” he says.

“You let me do all of that to you, and somehow, you end up giving me aftercare? Doesn’t seem really fair to you, Jake.”

His dark eyes sparkle at you. He throws the towel into the laundry hamper one-handed. “You’re my soul, my love, my life. You took care of me so well tonight. Let me do something for you. Please,” he winks at you, “mistress.”

You roll your eyes at him.

“I love you, mi amor,” he says, leaning in to kiss you again. But instead of touching his lips to yours, he scrubs his mustache along your cheek. “I’ve got all kinds of plans for this mustache. New Year’s is going to be special this year.”

“You have plans? Jake,” you pat his shoulder lovingly, “that mustache and that face belong to me. This year, next year, every year.”

“I like the sound of that,” he agrees. “You’re going to have hard time topping last year, though, when you had me on my knees for an hour, starting off the year with my tongue-“

“Don’t you worry, Jake. I’ll have no problems topping last year. In fact, I think you’ll enjoy just how I’m going to… top... it.”

His dark eyes go wide in delight. He swings you around in his arms, planting a huge kiss on your lips. “You’re a hell of a woman.”

“I’m going to fuck you until you’re brain dead.”

He growls, squeezing you in his arms. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

Jake settles you on the couch with a movie and your phone, whistling on his way to the shower. When he comes back out, you’re asleep already, but Jake doesn’t wake you. He unfolds a blanket, carefully lays it over your body and kisses the top of your head.

Before you, he wouldn’t have thought twice about going out, killing an hour by punching faces in. Now, though, he’s taking a night off. He settles on the couch, one hand on your sleeping body.

He’s happy to not have to guard every single traveler of the night. He wants to protect you, to watch you, to be there when you wake up. This year, next year, every year, just like you’d promised him.

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please lmk if you'd like to be removed- i promise not to take it personally!

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.

The tattoos were the cherry on TOPP😭

watching Rise of the Gaurdians made me realize my younger self had a type all along when I had a crush on this guy

the naughty and nice tattoos 😍 😋 😏 😜

Literally every profile I've seen on my browse page is like this😭 I LOVE it

truly nothing more magical than finding a good fic and then going to their profile and finding out there’s a whole goldmine in there of fics just begging to be read. what a beautiful world we live in.

stress relief.

➸ ask: “Heyy <33 | have a req for a jayvik fic, the reader has noticed they've been quite stressed lately and recommends a form of Relaxing they do (Basically just getting high) and convinces both Jayce and Viktor to take part in it.. Can be fluff or smut??” ➸ pairing: jayvik x fem!reader ➸ tags: mdni! drug use, nsfw, smut, pwp, poly sex, double penetration, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, jayvik established relationship, modern au, viktor wears a prosthetic leg, no use of y/n. ➸ word count: 6.3k ➸ a/n: i only realized when writing this, that i don’t have a ton of jayvik x reader fics like i thought i did! so, here’s to more!! hehe <3

Your fingers moved skillfully over a typewriter, a vintage one, which you often pointed out to anyone who admired it. Did it often cause you more hassle than writing on your computer? Of course, it did, but the nostalgic sounds of clicking and the aesthetic had become a part of your routine, even if it meant struggling with it or groaning when you had to pull out the paper to correct your mistakes with whiteout and place it right where you left off. A tedious task for a small mistake, but one that you struggled with no less.

The sounds of your constant typing reminded Jayce and Viktor of your pursuit of passion, sharing your poetry and fiction works with the world. This was a creative field of work, as opposed to theirs, which left them strained and sore after a day’s work.

It’s not that they ever compared the two in terms of struggles, but you were able to indulge in a stress-free environment more often than they could. A luxury in their eyes, but all you had done was master the art of stress relief.

In the form of smoking so much weed that you were able to melt into the couch after a day of writing that left your brain foggy, or sometimes even smoking before work to resurge enough creative energy to finish a chapter. You were nearly done with your first fiction novel since graduation, and your roommates, Jayce and Viktor, were lagging behind in their own professional efforts.

You met them both in college; you were in your second year, and they were in their fourth year of mechanical engineering and far from being done with their post-secondary education. It was the luck of the draw, or so Jayce called it when you stumbled into them while hurrying between classes and accidentally knocking their first prosthetic arm prototype to the ground where the pieces scattered.

Never in your life had you ever felt so bad, quickly dropping to your knees and helping them gather the pieces of their hard work, apologizing every second while the two men told you it would be okay. Or, at least, Jayce was telling you it would be okay.

You still think fondly back on Viktor's look. His eyes narrowed as he stared at you, watching you and Jayce scramble to grab everything before the rush of students stampeded over them into non-existence.

It took one apology and a smile to win over Jayce’s heart and a few days of getting to know Viktor—and a few drinks—to win his. Though, you had been oblivious to the deeper feelings that blossomed in their heart.

Why would you think otherwise? They were the two in the relationship.

It was by your fourth year and their sixth that the three of you ended up in the same apartment together, the rent cheap enough split three ways that you’d all be fools to let the opportunity go to waste. You learned quickly that living with two men, let alone engineers and inventors, was going to be a lot. It took a few long months to get used to, but by the time you resigned your first year’s lease and you were freshly graduated, you could be blindfolded and walk over their disassembled creations without as much disturbing their work.

You were thankful that they were able to find a laboratory on campus, but it left your apartment quiet most days and well into the night. The sounds of their bickering had become the soundtrack to your life; instead, the sounds of your fingers against the typewriter echoed through the otherwise empty apartment.

The only other sounds were the distant television you hadn’t bothered to turn off and your senior cat's purring, which lay atop your bed. 

You hummed a quiet melody, a song that you couldn’t name that Jayce had been playing on his phone earlier that morning when he was cooking breakfast. Waking up just in time so you could sneak it and ask him to triple the servings for you and Viktor.

The rattling of the apartment door startled you from your daze, not having realized that you’d been staring at the same sentence over and over for the past five minutes. Your eyes flickered to your phone, a finger tapping the screen to check the time and only then realizing you’d been writing for the past four hours without a break. The moon was high in the sky, and the birds would be chirping in only a few more hours.

Slowly, you got up from your desk, arms stretched above your head and groaning as your stationary position caught up to you, leaving you sore and desperate for a smoke before the night got ahead of you.

“Jesus,” you said as you stepped out of your room, pulling down the sleeves of your sweater over your hands absently as you watched Jayce and Viktor kick off their shoes at the front door. They were so exhausted that they looked like they might fall asleep standing if they didn’t hurry. “This is the fourth night in a row; you guys are digging early graves at how little sleep you’re getting.”

“Maybe that’s why we’re doing it,” Viktor mumbled, struggling with removing the shoe from his prosthetic leg, which Jayce quickly dropped to his knees to help him with.”

“Don’t blame you, all that work and still no grant. Yikes.” You returned with a playful flicker in your eyes, smiling as Viktor rolled his eyes at you. Jayce frowned as he rose back to his feet. “Kidding, guys. It’s called a joke; don’t give me those looks.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the taller man mumbled, scratching at his stubbled jaw as he walked into the apartment, passing you and groaning as he b-lined for the living room so he could collapse onto the couch. Viktor was close behind, leaning on his cane as he walked, but you weren’t far behind.

“Bad day?” You asked sheepishly, regret forming a knot in your stomach when you noticed how stressed they were, both sitting on the couch.

“Bad week,” Viktor corrected as he leaned forward, rolling his pant leg up to reveal the well-worn prosthetic that needed an upgrade. They’d been so focused on their work that he hadn’t bothered to worry about his own needs, knowing that once this project ended, he’d be able to call the final prototype his own. A leg that would finally implant into his limb so he wouldn’t have to deal with the pain of the ill-fitting prosthetics any longer.

You watched as he struggled for a minute, and before Jayce could offer, you were on the floor in front of him, hands already reaching for his leg. Carefully pulling the prosthetic down his thigh until it came clean off, he sighed in relief. This was a common routine that you helped with when Jayce was otherwise busy. Or falling asleep on the couch.

“Thanks,” he murmured, shifting as you put aside the leg carefully.

You returned to the armchair next to the couch, eyes looking between both men who had seen better days. The bags were so heavy beneath their eyes that you feared it would take days for them to finally catch up on their sleep—then an idea sparked.

“You two need a better nightly routine, something to help you decompress from the day instead of passing out in exhaustion the minute you get home,” you said, offering the opportunity for a suggestion.

Jayce glanced at you, raising a curious eyebrow. Viktor was the first to speak, “That doesn’t sound like a healthy habit to you? What a shame. I thought we were the epitome of self-care.”

“Let her speak,” Jayce nudged him with an elbow, eventually leaning against his boyfriend until his face was nearly buried against his neck. “You have anything in mind? I’ll be honest. Sleep sounds like the only good idea.”

“Smoke with me.”

Jayce perked up, peering out from the comfort of Viktor’s warmth as he stared at you with uncertainty, “Like… weed? I don’t know. I haven’t done that since I was a freshman, and let me tell you, it wasn’t a good experience.”

“No one told you to smoke that much, Jayce,” Viktor chided, having been there to witness it firsthand. His amber eyes flickered to you, shining in interest, “I suppose it doesn’t sound like a horrible idea.”

“Because it’s a great idea.” You beamed, sitting up and leaning forward to pet your cat that had made her way into the living room, taking her rounds to each person to receive her nightly pets before nestling away on her cat tree.

Viktor glanced at Jayce, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, love.”

You watched as the two of them spoke softly to each other, a small smile on your lips at the affection they carried for each other. Even on their worst days, they loved each other with all they had. You hoped for a love like theirs someday.

“Fine,” Jayce huffed, pulling away from Viktor and running a quick hand over his face, “At this point, I’ll do anything to get my mind off of work. I think I’m going crazy,” he snorted a weak laugh, eyes flickering over to as you bounced up from your chair and hurried off to your room to roll.

You returned just as Viktor pulled a sweater over his thin frame, hanging over the sleep shorts he now wore. Jayce had just slipped into some sweats after his quick trip to their bedroom to rid themselves of their day clothes. Two sets of eyes watched as you sat back down, a joint held between your fingers that you showed off like a prized possession.

“Ta-da!” You exclaimed, “As simple as a few puffs, all your worries will melt away. It’s old reliable for me, especially after a long day. Makes for the best sleep of your life.”

Viktor was watching you carefully as you spoke, unsure if it was the exhaustion or lingering feelings that left him admiring you. His hand on Jayce’s thigh dug into the cotton fabric of his sweats, going unnoticed because Jayce was staring at you with the same look. Admiration, awe—affection.

Glancing around, your eyes landed on the balcony where you often spent your evenings with a joint and your cellphone, doom scrolling through social media until you were ready to sleep. You crinkled your nose, looking at the boys, “We need to go outside, or else the apartment will smell like—”

“I don’t care,” Viktor said, gaze flickering to Jayce, “do you care?”

Jayce didn’t answer. Instead, his eyes focused on the joint in your hand, and he was more than ready to say fuck it and let things go how they needed to go.

“No complaining tomorrow when we have to air out the apartment,” you smiled. You’d never been able to smoke in the comfort of your own home before, so this was a treat. Even better than you had been able to wrangle your favourite boys into the mix, too.

Once lit, the joint was passed around the circle three times. Viktor handled it well, having been an off-and-on cigarette smoker throughout the years, usually when his stress levels peaked. Now, it was only when he had enough alcohol in his system. Jayce coughed up a lung each time, and it was the most endearing thing you’d ever witnessed. 

Even if it was rather unpleasant for him at first.

You finished the rest, an experienced smoker, so it was almost like nothing to you. The lingering effects of the high made you sink into the armchair, but not before you grabbed everyone some emergency water and snacks, if you could even stay awake.

Fifteen minutes passed, and everyone’s attention was focused on the TV as the shared high began to climb. Viktor was feeling great. His mind was emptied, and the usual pain in his leg after a day of wearing the prosthetic was gone, leaving his body relaxed and eager to sleep long enough to hit double digits.

You glanced at Jayce, seeing the way he sunk into the couch, legs spread wide apart and a lopsided smile on his lips as he watched the trashy reality show play out. You were almost certain you’d never seen them look so damned relaxed, at least since you lived with them.

Jayce caught your stare, head tilting slowly until his gaze met yours, and you felt your heart skip a beat for a brief moment. It had been a long time since you shared a high with anyone, let alone your best friends, so the emotions and feelings coursing through you were new. You couldn’t ignore his half-lidded eyes, staring even as he made room between him and Viktor.

“You look lonely,” Jayce said, a chuckle erupting from his throat, “Come on. When’s the last time you cuddled with us?”

Viktor sighed heavily through his nose, everything around him feeling slow as he watched you slink over hesitantly. He looked at Jayce, smiling, “You say that so confidently; you know she never has before.”

You plopped down on the couch between them, and immediately, your senses were filled in the best way possible. Jayce’s body to your left warmed your body, and you could smell the faint cologne that Viktor used every morning. The scent lingered on his skin.

“That’s not true,” you hummed, looking to the television as you crossed your legs and relaxed back, “Last year when we went to that gala for the university, I got hammered, and somehow I woke up sandwiched between you two in my bed.”

Jayce laughed, a loud laugh that hadn’t warranted that reaction from your words, but everything was funny to him. He could get used to the feeling.

“Ah, right,” Viktor looked at you, smirking, “That was Jayce’s doing, just so you know. He was worried you would get sick, so he wanted to stay with you and begged me to stay.”

“I didn’t beg,” he said through his laughter, “You gave in very easily and enjoyed it. Don’t lie.”

“I did not,” Viktor argued, pale cheeks turning a soft pink. You looked between the two of them as they bickered, a big smile on your face. However, the implications of their words settled into your stomach, and you forced yourself to look back to the TV before you could let your mind wander where it didn’t need to.

There was no need to let yourself build up a desire, knowing very well that it wouldn’t come true.

“Yeah, you did,” Jayce turned to face you both better, easily throwing his right leg over both of your laps, and you were quick to rest a hand over the clothed limb. The touch sent a shiver up his spine and a heat in the pit of his stomach that he hadn’t expected, and he hoped you hadn’t noticed because Viktor certainly had.

“Hardly,” Viktor hummed, unable to feel an ounce of annoyance when his heart began pounding in his chest when he saw how Jayce reacted to your touch. How those hazel eyes were glued to your face, and all of the discussions they’ve shared in the past about you came to the surface.

“Stop arguing,” you whined, pointing to the television, “You are missing the best part of the show. They’re about to answer the ultimatums, and let me tell you that whatever you had in mind is never what happens.”

You were received by silence, and you quickly looked between the two men again, blinking a few times in quick succession as you saw the way they both stared at you. You felt a chill crawl up your spine and absently dug your fingers into the fabric covering Jayce’s leg. Sinking back into the couch, you attempted to force yourself to relax and not overthink it, but it was hard when you could see them sharing looks.

“You know, when you get high, you usually just laugh at crappy television and snack on whatever you have until you fall asleep,” you mumbled, your cheeks burning.

“Mmh,” Viktor hummed, “Where are our manners?” He teased, and his voice sent goosebumps along your skin. He nestled himself against you as he spoke, his cheek resting on your shoulder as he focused on the television. Meanwhile, Jayce leaned back against the nook between the arm and the back of the sofa, his arm extending behind you as his fingers ‘absently’ played with the ends of your hair.

You were on high alert, which was surprising for how much you smoked, but you could sense something was happening. You were just trying to convince yourself that it wasn’t what you were imagining in your head, but the way Jayce brushed his fingers through your hair and how Viktor’s left hand rested over your bare thigh left you wondering if you were dreaming again.

Viktor’s fingers brushed between your thighs, a daring touch that reminded you that this was no dream, and in this reality, the two men were certainly coming onto you.

A laugh bubbled up from you, one that you weren’t able to hold down. Your hands flew to your face, which had begun to burn a bright red, and you avoided their curious looks.

“You guys are being horribly obvious. I hope you know that.” You mumbled behind your hands, refusing to move them.

Viktor chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest, “Or maybe it takes you being high to finally notice.”

You turned your head to look at Viktor between parted fingers, “What do you mean by that?”

Jayce spoke up from the other side of you, smiling rather shyly as you looked over at him, “You’re… pretty clueless, you know that? It’s cute.”

You swore you could hear your heart slamming against your ribs, the feeling overwhelming as you stared up at Jayce and felt your stomach twist in uncomfortable knots. Your eyes flickered back to Viktor, noting the confident smile on his lips as he reached out and tucked some of your hair behind your ear.

“How does it make you feel?” Viktor asked quietly, his reddened eyes scanning your face, “Knowing how we feel about you.”

“Well,” you murmured, licking your lips as you inhaled a shaky breath, “I suppose I don’t exactly know how you feel about me… it’s difficult to answer without knowing.”

Jayce shifted beside you, his leg moving from your laps so he could instead guide you until you were rested back against his chest, his body still turned completely towards you and Viktor. You nestled back into him, sighing at how his body felt so nice and warm like it was enveloping you.

Meanwhile, Viktor shifted and leaned towards you, smiling as he nuzzled himself into you and pulled his leg onto the couch that perfectly fit you three. He buried his face against your clothed chest, peering up just enough to meet your gaze.

“Would you like us to show you?” he asked his eager hand dipping beneath your sweater, thin fingers brushing against the skin of your stomach. You didn’t care if the weed was allowing them to better act on their instincts. All you knew was that the four hands beginning to grasp at your body was enough to make you say—

“God, yes,” you breathed, the sound catching in your throat.

Jayce was quick to act on your consent. From behind his lips attached to the side of your neck, he left gentle kisses that earned you a shiver. Meanwhile, Viktor leaned himself between your spread legs. His eyes were half-lidded and glossy as he stared at you with a knowing smile.

You didn’t have time to question him for staring because he swallowed the words on the tip of your tongue as he pressed your lips together in a bruising kiss. Your lips parted with a gasp, and he took advantage of the opening, his tongue delving into your mouth and tasting the red licorice flavour from the sweets you had indulged. He moaned into your mouth, hands on your hips underneath your sweater and grasping over your flesh, rougher touches compared to the fluttering kisses from the man behind you.

The stubble on Jayce’s jaw tickled your skin as he nibbled on the shell of your ear, his heavy breaths cascading your neck with warmth.

“How excited are you?” He whispered into your ear, a squeak muffling into Viktor’s eager mouth as a hand slipped between your bodies and pushed into your shorts. Thick fingers pushed past the fabric of your panties, easily spreading through your wet folds. “Fuck,” Jayce huffed, swallowing thickly as he circled your needy clit with short circles.

“I told you she’d like it,” Viktor mumbled against you, pulling back as a string of saliva connected your lips. He grinned, lifting a hand and brushing his thumb against your swollen bottom lip, “You like it, don’t you?”

Your body was on fire, Jayce’s fingers toying with your cunt, earning a few whimpers that you tried to muffle, but to no avail. Half-lidded eyes stared at Viktor as you nodded, watching as he leaned back and looked down between your legs underneath the fabric. He could see his boyfriend’s fingers working through your folds, the slick sound loud enough to reach his ears.

Nimble fingers grabbed at your shorts and underwear, yanking them down your thighs until they slipped past your ankles and were discarded to the floor.

Viktor’s eyes sparkled as he watched, licking his lips as Jayce used two fingers to spread you open.

“She’s dripping,” Jayce murmured, the sound of his voice easing your nerves as you relaxed against him, fingers grabbing at his thighs. You closed your eyes, unable to look at Viktor in your flustered state.

“I can see that,” Viktor purred, his fingers toying at your entrance that Jayce had opened for him. You whined as he pushed in a finger, a second one joining much too easily, “So good. Taking my fingers so easily. I bet you’ve dreamt of this, haven’t you?”

Your back arched at his touch, Jayce’s index finger returning to your clit, a ministration that made your hips shake in tandem with Viktor’s fingers thrusting in and out of you. Your mind was hazy, and you couldn’t think straight, eyes fluttering as you fucked yourself along his two fingers that pumped so deep you were beginning to babble out their names incoherently. 

Viktor curved his fingers, pushing on the fleshy pad of muscle inside your pussy that coaxed out a strangled cry from your lips. He didn’t relent, the two men wanting to hear more from you as they worked together. They couldn’t concentrate on anything, fixated on the way your cunt tightened around Viktor’s fingers and how your nails dug into Jayce’s thighs as your climax neared.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, a gasp escaping between parted lips. You attempted to push your thighs together, but Jayce was quick and held your thighs apart.

“Be a good girl,” he breathed into your ear.

Viktor’s free hand moved so he could rub quick circles over your swollen clit, fingers still pumping in and out of you at a relentless pace. Your eyes cracked open, hips twitching violently as heat spread down your thighs and up your abdomen. You locked a gaze with Viktor, and your heart lept into your throat at the way he stared at you—animalistic. Hungry.

“Come for me,” he whispered, fingers curling as he did his best to bring you to your release.

It worked well, especially with Jayce’s lips pressing heady open-mouthed kisses to your neck, hands grabbing at your thighs and keeping you nicely spread.

“Oh my god,” you cried, thighs tensing and toes curling as your orgasm hit you hard. You clenched impossibly tight around Viktor’s fingers, hips stuttering as heavy breaths and moans fell from your lips. Viktor kept fucking you with his fingers, a slower pace to meet with your release until you were spent.

Your hands moved to your face, covering your cheeks that were red from embarrassment. You were still twitching, sensitive from their synchronized touches, and you didn’t dare look at either of them.

Jayce smiled, pressing a chaste kiss at your temple, “That was so hot.”

Viktor chuckled, fingers leaving your cunt, and you whined at the emptiness. He noted the reaction, his gut hot and cock twitching under his shorts.

“Show us your pretty face,” he chided you, voice soft as he grabbed at your wrists. He tugged your hands away from your face, smiling at the way you pouted at him, “Since when are you shy?”

“Since my roommates in a relationship decided they’d rather fuck me instead of sleeping,” you mumbled, shifting and feeling a familiar hardness on your lower back. Jayce grunted, his tanned cheeks red as he twitched, the slight friction on his erection making him eager to make your statement come true.

“We haven’t fucked you yet, though,” Viktor hummed, smirking as he lifted his fingers to his mouth, wet with your juices. He licked them clean and sighed, “Do you want us to?”

You answered quickly, a prominent yes. Within minutes, the three of you had made it to their bedroom, rather clumsy in your efforts. Your back fell against the bedsheets that had been tucked into the mattress so neatly, and your clothes were ripped from your body almost instantaneously.

Viktor was leaning back against the pillows, centred almost perfectly in the middle of the bed, and you were on your knees in front of him. Eyes heavy as you tugged down his shorts and briefs while he tossed his sweaters aside. Jayce settled behind you, also on his knees, and he towered over your smaller frame.

Golden eyes watched you both in awe as you felt Jayce’s bare muscled chest pressed against your back and his cock pushing between your thighs—grazing against your still-wet cunt. You could feel how big he was, and as you stared down at Viktor, you noted his, too.

You didn’t want to think about it, wondering how you would take them. You weren’t much of a go-getter in terms of sex, usually relying on your toys late at night when you needed some relief.

“You’re nervous,” Jayce murmured, calloused hands running up and down your sides. They settled over your breasts, feeling the heaviness of them in his hands as he pinched at your nipples until you gasped. 

“A little,” you answered quietly, swallowing down the nervous lump in your throat. You leaned to the side enough that you could tilt your head and meet Jayce’s eyes from behind you. His eyes carried a gentle look, different than the fiery gaze from Viktor.

Jayce smiled, ducking his head closer until his lips brushed against yours, “Don’t be. There’s no reason.”

Your eyes fell closed as you eagerly accepted his kiss, whimpering into his mouth as he tasted you carefully. His tongue pushed past your lips, and you opened yours, tongues dancing together effortlessly. He moaned into you, arms wrapping over your waist as you shared a passionate kiss with a bit too much tongue, but gods, you didn’t care.

Especially when you knew Viktor was staring, leaning back and smirking. Cock twitching and pre-cum beading along the tip as he began to stroke himself.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jayce whispered, pulling from your lips and staring into your eyes as your stomach twisted. You hadn’t heard that in a while. “I want to fuck that pretty face of yours.”

And they both did.

Both of them leaned back against the headboard, eyes fluttering as you sucked them both off. Working your mouth along their cocks one at a time, your hand stroking the one your throat neglected.

“Ah,” Viktor whimpered, a hand tight in your hair as he guided you along his cock, amber eyes heavy as you looked up at him, “Fuck, you’re good at this.”

The praises kept you going; it was like a rush of confidence. You took them both deeper than you thought was possible, their cocks fucking your throat until you had to pull back, gasping for air. You could feel how close they both were, and when Jayce roughly tugged your hair back with a growl deep from his chest, you knew you were good enough to be fucked by them. 

Finally.

What you hadn’t expected was how.

The three of you were on the bed, with you sandwiched between them and your back pressed against Jayce’s chest. You looked up at Viktor, your leg hooked around his hips and breathing heavily, unsure where this was going but knowing that you’d do anything. You’d take anything; you needed them.

As Jayce kissed over your bare shoulders, Viktor moved closer, hand at the base of his cock so he could direct it to your entrance. You whined when the tip pushed inside, teasing. 

“Viktor,” you breathed, your hands reaching out to grab at his waist so you could tug him closer, “fuck me. I need you, please.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest, “Mmh, you’ve been so good. How could I say no to that pretty face of yours?” He murmured, closing the distance between your lips so he could pull you into a searing kiss. 

He pushed inside you with one quick thrust, reaching the hilt as you choked on your breath, the sound captured by his lips. “Ah, fuck,” you croaked, your cunt stretching from his length. You whimpered into his mouth, licking inside until your tongues slid together, and he gave you time to adjust to his size.

Jayce reached around you, the familiar feeling of his finger on your clit easing you. The pain of being stretched, a remnant of the past, as you pulled from Viktor’s lips, “Keep going.”

He obeyed quickly, panting as he shifted so he could fuck you, pulling out half-way and pushing back in. Careful movements until he knew you could take it, quickening to a hard pace that had you moaning out his name.

You reached back behind you, looking over your shoulder at Jayce as your hand wrapped around his cock, stroking him. You thumbed at the tip, the pre-cum coating his cock as you pumped him in repetition with Viktor’s thrusts. He huffed at the feeling, his forehead pressed against your shoulder blade as the heat in his abdomen tightened.

“Your pussy feels so good,” Viktor’s voice pulled you down from the clouds, a quiet mewl bubbling up from your throat at the praise, “You’re being so good. Taking me so good… can you take us both?”

Both you and Jayce stilled, tensing at the prospect. Jayce’s cock twitched in your hand, and you stared at Viktor wide-eyed, heart slamming against your chest. 

“Both?” You whispered, thankful when Viktor slowed his movements, “I… I don’t know. Maybe.”

“You don’t have to,” Jayce murmured into your ear, his breath heavy from your hand that had nearly stroked him to completion, “It’s okay if it’s a no.”

Viktor hummed in agreement, leaning forward and ducking to press his lips against your jaw, gentle kisses. You closed your eyes, lips parting as quiet sounds of pleasure came from you. The idea of it made your cunt clench around Viktor’s cock, both of them inside you at once.

Stretched impossibly thin. 

“Yes,” you whispered, eyes fluttering open to look into Viktor’s gold orbs, “I want you both. Fuck, I think I need it.”

Jayce grinned against your ear, your hand eagerly guiding his cock to your already-filled entrance. “Easy now, love.” He said, the pet name making your heart flutter, “One step at a time. I don’t want to hurt you.

Viktor began to slowly push himself in and out of you, slow movements so pleasure filled your senses before you’d be stretched beyond your comfort levels. You squirmed when you felt Jayce’s cock prod at your entrance.

“Let me fuck her,” Jayce mumbled, talking to Viktor, who reluctantly pulled himself out. Your cunt was empty for all of a second before another cock pushed inside you. Stretching you more than Viktor had, but not as long. Gods, you had no idea how you’d make this work.

You leaned forward against Viktor, whimpering as Jayce’s hand grabbed at your hip, digging into your flesh as he fucked you enough to wet his cock.

“You ready? Viktor asked you, his hand caressing your cheek so you were forced to look into his eyes. You nodded, your stomach twisting.

Your eyes closed, and you did your best to relax your body. Your body leaned back against Jayce now as Viktor had to shift his body and position himself until his cock was pushing at your entrance, unsure if this would work.

Then you cried out loudly, choking on a strangled gasp when the head of his cock pushed inside, and your cunt stretched wide to fit him. Jayce was quick to act on your pain, a finger on your clit and lips at your ear, kissing and whispering soft praises in your ear. Anything to calm you, and it worked.

“Shit,” Viktor hissed under his breath, his gaze focused down between your legs, watching as his cock penetrated you and joined Jayce’s inside your tight cunt. You were so wet that it was easy to slide right in, but he was careful and slow, eyes glancing at your face every so often to gauge your reactions.

You clawed at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin and only realized you had been holding your breath until you felt him fit inside you fully. Your eyes fluttered open, looking at Viktor with eyes full of unshed tears.

“Fuck me,” you whimpered, nearly begging. The fullness between your legs was more than you could imagine, but the pleasure was beginning to outweigh the discomfort. 

Viktor dove forward, his lips crashing to yours as Jayce moved first. He pulled his hips back, his cock moving out of you slowly and rubbing against Viktor’s, a whine from your lips swallowed down by Viktor’s tongue. As Jayce pushed back in, Viktor pulled out—an electric rhythm that made your head spin.

Both men groaned, breathing heavily as they fucked you slowly. Jayce’s forehead, sticky with sweat, was pressed against the nape of your neck as he focused on his movements. His cock twitched inside you with each forward press of his hips, the sensation of your tight cunt swallowing him while rubbing along Viktor’s had his release close to the edge already. 

None of you could speak, the sounds of their slick cocks fucking you in languid movements loud in your ears. Heavy breaths, deep grumbles in their chests, and names rolling from your tongue through pleasured mewls. 

Your hips met their rhythms, and not once was your pussy empty. Stretched so deliciously far that you felt your juices dripping down your thighs and wetting the bedsheets beneath your hips.

“I don’t think I’m going to last much longer,” Jayce broke through the silence you shared, his voice shaky as his teeth dragged along your shoulder and focused hard on keeping his release at bay. His finger over your clit had only helped in pushing you further toward your orgasm, fleshy walls clenching tight around the two cocks that took their turns filling you.

“Me neither,” Viktor pulled from your lips, a moan catching in his throat as he stuttered his hips forward, “God—fuck.”

He was the first to fall over the edge, gasping as he buried his face forward against your neck, kissing you as he spilled inside. Jayce was right behind, unable to keep himself from pushing into you, so both cocks stretched you, hot cum sputtering inside you and leaking out as you milked both men dry.

Only a few more tight circles on your clit sent you over, hips twitching and causing both men to groan at the overwhelming feeling of you fucking yourself on their cocks as you rode out your climax. Electricity shooting through your body, loud cries of pleasure falling from your tongue until you were limp and whimpering, shifting so they could both pull out from you.

Once it emptied, you could finally breathe, your body able to relax from the limits you had pushed yourself to. 

“You did so well,” Viktor breathed against your neck, hardly able to speak. His mind was swirling, the weed and exhaustion only dizzying him further as he groaned, “Fuck, I’ve never felt better.”

Jayce hummed in acknowledgement, letting out a heavy sigh as he rolled onto his back and ran a hand through his hair. He wore a lopsided grin as he tugged you towards him so you were tucked forward against his side and Viktor followed, clinging to you from behind and burying his face in your hair.

“Maybe we’ll do that again sometime,” he eventually spoke, slurring slightly from the tiredness that had begun to consume him. 

“Might have to give me a few business days to recover,” you murmured, your face nuzzled against his chest as the three of you lay atop the sheets. Much too tired to even bother pulling the sheets above your bodies.

Viktor chuckled, inhaling your scent deeply as his fingers traced patterns along your stomach absently, “Maybe I will buy you a strap. You can join me in fucking Jayce one of these days.”

“I don’t know about that,” Jayce argued, half-asleep.

“You get used to it.” You giggled, eyes closed as sleep began to win you over.

You sighed quietly, the sounds of both men snoring softly as they fell into deep slumbers after a week of overworking themselves. Your heart was so full of love as they held you close—it was addicting. Jayce and Viktor were addicting. Whatever this was blossoming into was a dangerous game, but you knew you could trust them with your heart.

Your favourite boys.

How would the OI characters react if the reader accidentally called them "husband" and was embarrassed after she realized her mistake?

This is so cute, oh my gosh! <3 Thank you so much for sending it!

OI Characters Called 'Husband' By Accident Headcanons

Steven: Absolutely giddy with joy! Yes, he is your husband. 100% heart eyes from him, he’ll grab your hand and squeeze it and smile. If you’re around other people he will call you ‘his wife’ straight away playfully and give you a sweet kiss on your cheek. 

Marc: Bless this man, he freezes. Error screen across his eyes and frantically inwardly asking Steven and Jake if they got married before he realises he’s being silly.

Jake: Without missing a beat, will ask, “Where is my ring?” And then will tease you about it playfully for ages until you're laughing.

Nathan: This idiot doesn’t even notice. You think, at first, it’s because he’s not paying attention. But when he sees you’re embarrassed he’s like, “why? What wrong? Why’s that bothering you? I basically am?”

Anselm: It doesn’t matter where you are because Anselm’s going down on you there and then.

Cecil: If he’s high it takes him a good fifteen minutes to register what you said. 

Club!Blue: He’s (unsurprisingly) a little shit about it. “Oh, you like me that much do you? You want to marry me?” Will smugly tell everyone. “They want to marry me.” 

Orderly!Blue: He’s going to tease you until you cry, I’m so sorry. (He’s then going to fuck your brains out).

Jack: Do NOT say this unless you want to end up tied up in his trailer.

Santiago: Will joke with you about it, “Oh, calling me that because I nag you too much, huh?” Is secretly very pleased, but doesn’t want you to feel embarrassed. 

Shimmer!Kane: Doesn’t quite get the implication, but he doesn’t like seeing you upset/embarrassed. Will give you a hug.

King John: Similar to Club!Blue, he’s going to be telling everyone and preening about it.

Rydal: Surprisingly gets all shy and blushes. 

Laurent: He’s already got the ring in his back pocket.

Poe: Giggles about it in a very ‘oh my gosh, hee hee hee, do you like me?’ way, even if you have been together for years.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

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Crying, somehow

001

↳ Loss of Virginity with Aaron Hotchner

"Gonna give you all my love, boy, my fear is fading fast. Been saving it all for you, 'cause only love can last." - Madonna, Like a Virgin.

CONTENT/WARNINGS. Prelude to Smut (18+ mdni); Slight Dom/Sub Dynamics.

WC. 0.6K

AUTHORS NOTE. A light start to kinkmas. This is probably the worst thing I've ever written, but I want it out of the way, so enjoy.

kinkmas '24 masterlist

Aaron was beginning to believe there was no view more beautiful than you perched on his lap, skin flushed, lips kiss-bitten. You were a work of art - painted by Monet, sculpted by Conova. You belonged in a museum, put on display to be adored and revered for centuries to come. 

You were positively bewitching.

You wore Aaron’s navy GWU Law sweatshirt, something you had found shoved in the back of his wardrobe, discarded and forgotten. He wore it often during his time as a law student - it was one of his favorites, though he’d wager that it wouldn’t fit his filled out frame anymore. Aaron loved the way it looked on you, he loved the way seeing you in it made him feel.

Aaron’s hands rested against your thighs, his fingertips teasing against your soft skin, his cock hard and straining against the front of his pants as you unwittingly pushed yourself further against him. He needed you with a fierce desperation, inhibitions be damned. He needed to taste you and to feel you and to hear you. He needed to worship you. Aaron needed to know that you needed him, that you wanted him - he needed to know you were sure. 

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours, the ghost of a kiss. Aaron could hear you whimper, could feel you grind your clothed pussy against him in response. His hands moved to grasp your hips, halting your tantalizing movements. “You have to say it; I have to hear you say it.”

Your skin flushed a deeper shade of red at the prospect of voicing your desire, of telling Aaron all the places you wanted him to touch you, all the ways you wanted him to take you. 

“Aaron…” you murmured, your heart racing - a ceaseless, unrelenting cadence against your ribcage. You were sure - one hundred percent certain - that you wanted this, that you wanted him to be your first. But, then, there it was… that small, nettlesome flicker of hesitation that kept you from speaking your wants and needs into existence. 

Aaron - damn him and his profiling abilities - caught your hesitation, his grip on you relaxing, his brows furrowing in rumination. “We’re not going to do anything you don’t want to,” the man affirmed, his eyes boring into yours. “If this is too much, too soon… if you want to stop, just say the word. Nothing has to happen tonight.”

“And if I don’t want to stop?”

“We’ll move at your pace,” Aaron promised, face relaxing. “Whatever you want, whenever you want it - it’s yours.” 

His words - the confirmation that this moment was yours, that every passing second and miniscule action would be tailored to your wants and needs… it smothered that flicker of hesitation. 

His words were your green light. 

You bent down, capturing Aaron’s lips in a heated kiss. He tasted like the cheap red wine you had picked up from the convenience store - the wine itself was far too bitter for your liking, though it tasted satisfyingly sweet on his tongue. 

You were an addict. You could kiss him forever, you could lose yourself in everything that was him. 

Your hands left his shoulders, trailing over his chest and stopping at the waistband of his slacks. Your fingertips dipped beneath the waistband as you flirted with the idea of freeing his cock from its confines, delighting in the feeling of Aaron’s teasing smile against your lips.

“I want you,” you admitted, quiet, pleading. “Now. Please.”

Aaron gripped your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your bare flesh as he pulled you further against him. “Take what you want,” he implored. “You’re in control.”

giving a sleepy, overworked viktor head late in the lab..? and because hes so tired he's just dumb and needy....???? (ig somno if you squint)

18+ ᴍᴅɴɪ

“what do i have to do to pull you away from that?” you sighed, practically hanging off the back of your lover’s chair. you took a quick glance at the clock in the corner of the room, soon to approach midnight. viktor answered you with a simple, deflective hum and you rolled your eyes. if he didn’t complain about the exhaustion making his chronic pain flare up, you would have pulled him away from that desk with your bare hands and throw him on the nearest plush surface. you sighed again, a little louder this time, a little pointed.

“am i boring you, love?” he rasped, exhaustion heavily coating his voice and thickening his accent.

“you really can’t take your eyes off that thing for just a second?” you leant down over his shoulder, exasperatedly nodding toward his project. “not. one. second.” he answered, not even raising his eyes to meet yours, focused entirely on scribbling down what looked to be an equation.

oh. you took that as a challenge.

wordlessly, you gently nudged the wheels of his chair away from its place flush against his desk. he barely noticed, only giving you a slight furrow of his thick brows. you rounded the chair in front of him and slowly sank to your knees. “not one second?” you tilted your head coquettishly. at your words, he allowed himself to spare a glance at you, kneeling before him, under his desk. his breath hitched in his throat, trapping his response in his chest. a glance was all he could afford if he wanted to focus. even in the dim lamplight, you could see the faintest brush of pink across his cheeks. smirking triumphantly, you carefully reach up for the zipper of his pants. he loudly clears his throat when he feels your fingers so close.

“darling.” he called as a warning, stopping short in his work but still refusing to tear his eyes off of it.

“you want me to stop?” you asked earnestly, though you were sure you already knew the answer. he fixed you with a look. a permissive look, but a firm look, like an ‘i can’t resist this but i also won’t endorse it’ kind of look. you bit down on your grinning lip and pulled his pants down entirely. you could feel him tensing his muscles under your hands, willing himself to keep his focus on his work. you slowly pulled his cock from his constraints, giving it a single kiss on the head.

a soft groan rumbled in his throat, one hand dropping his pen and moving to cover his mouth. he could not look at you. he could not look at you. if he looked at you, he’d be done for the night, his brain would be absolutely fried and, oh, goddammit. your cheeks are hollowed, pretty plump lips wrapped around him, mischievous eyes glinting up at him. “fuck.” he groans again, closing his eyes and letting them open in your direction, finally. you braced your hands on his thighs, making sure to dig your nails into the pillowy flesh of his good leg. you finally got those pretty whines to come out. “evil…” his chest rises and falls heavily with each labored breath, becoming more and more ragged the more you fill your mouth with him. “evil woman.”

you giggle as much as you can with him on your tongue and it vibrates oh so good around him, causing him to toss his head back and whimper, “please…” one hand blindly reaches for your hair, gently tangling his long fingers in your locks, guiding you. oh, you’ve got him now. “oh, god, please don’t stop…” you will yourself to take him as deep as you can, and he hisses as he feels his cock hit the back of your throat. he opens his eyes to check on you, pulling you off for a moment. he takes the brief respite to tilt your chin up and give you a few quick kisses, babbling things like sweet girl and i love you so much and i’m sorry for neglecting my poor little darling and i could never say no to that pretty face in between. you can’t help but giggle at his sleepy verbage, more mushy than usual.

“that’s cute.” you take his hand off your chin, threading your own fingers through his. looking at his achingly hard cock. “i wasn’t done, though.”

he gives you one of his cocky, lopsided smiles and pats his lap. “no, no you weren’t.”

Silco on my mind 24/7🥵

how do we feel about power bottom silco!! i feel like he’s too bratty to fully submit but not bratty enough to fully take control?? or VIRGIN silco 😝😝😝 he’s been on my mind a lot he’s just so nom nom nom

ミ★ 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭! — 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐜𝐨.

ミ★ let me tell you something- LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING. this man would NEVER submit 100%. he needs the control to some degree. so even if you top him, you can never dom him, you get me?

ミ★ fem!reader, unprotected p in v, dom!silco, d/s undertones, sloppy rough sex, couch sex, cowgirl, language/dirty talk, begging, possessive!silco, mean!silco, dumbification, pure filth (sorry not sorry)

“tired already?”

silco sounds so monotonously bored, thick drawl almost disinterested — your thighs and face burn, both from exertion and indignation.

the plush couch creaks beneath your movements, groaning its distaste at the activity currently taking place on top of it — and you can’t help but feel as worn out as the couch itself.

silco sighs deeply and his long fingers curl around your hips. your heart lodges itself into your throat when he shoves his hips up, bullying himself deep inside you and forcing stars into your eyes.

“weren’t you going to ‘fuck me stupid’?” silco sneers, lidded eyes scrutinizing your fucked out body. “yet here you are. you’re about to crumble.”

you would feel more embarrassed if you weren’t so desperate.

“siiiiil,” you whine, pussy drooling and throbbing, so fucked open yet orgasm so far from your grasp. “please, wan’a cum.”

“think you deserve it, hm?” silco retorts immediately, hips rolling up into yours with wet smacks. “have you earned it?”

your eyes melt into your skull at the constant grind of his cockhead against your cervix — it’s too much yet not enough at the same time; intense pressure but lacking the brutal beating you need to cum.

“please,” you gasp out again, helpless and desperate — you wiggle your hips only for silco to bruise them with his fingertips.

“resorted to begging, have you?” silco hums, the roll of his hips morphing to shallow thrusts. it’s better, makes your pussy cry around him, rubs your walls with such sweet pressure — but it’s still not enough.

one of silco’s hands disappears from your hip and long fingers crawl up your scalp before gripping the hair at the back of your head. silco pulls just enough to expose your neck to him.

rough, chapped lips glide up the skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. silco’s breath is hot against your flesh when he murmurs, “beg me better, and i’ll use you like a little fucktoy.”

you swear his words alone are enough to fog your head completely; and you obey without a second thought, pouring all of your desperation and need into your pleas.

“please, sil, please fuck me. fuck me with your cock, i need it so bad, please —!”

teeth scrape against your jugular and silco growls, “better than that. if you want to cum so bad, beg me like you fuckin’ mean it.”

slick slurps and slaps punctuate his thrusts as he fucks inside you a little faster, bullying himself balls deep and slamming his cockhead into your cervix. mewls spill from your lips and your pussy flutters.

not enough. you need it rougher. you need him to use you like a little fucking doll. fuck your brains out of your ears. destroy you completely.

“use me. please, i’m your fucktoy. your little fucktoy. please use me, please, sil, your cock’s so good, fuck me — i’ll be so good, a good girl, please—!”

teeth and nails sink into your skin as silco snarls, balls slapping noisily into the flesh of your ass as his thrusts turn animalistic — he’s completely rough, merciless, uncaring of the way your body rocks and your lungs shrink, or the way he’s blinding you from the painful pleasure.

“oh, fuuuuck,” you mewl, voice spotty from the rabid jerks and throat sore — your pussy drools over him, crying from the dick plunging into it over and over; it feels so good, you swear you won’t last but a few seconds.

“thank you,” you gasp out, eyes rolling back. “than’you s’much, fuck, love it s’much.”

“fuck, babbling like some sort of idiot,” silco hisses, wet tongue laving sloppy over your throat. “so dumb from my cock. helpless, aren’t you?”

you can’t even process his words, but you nod anyway; your brain is melted in your skull, pussy sloppy and used and gut curled up with your building orgasm — you just want to cum all over him, paint his dick with your essence and feel him fuck it all out.

“lucky girl,” silco snarls, hand squeezing your hip tightly. “i’m feeling lenient today. so i’m going to make you cum so hard you faint, hear me?”

if only you could register how fucked you were in that instant.

“please, please! ‘s so good, make me cum, fuck, sil — mmmmm, ‘m close.”

silco’s hips piston into you at an inhuman speed, thick cock splitting you open and slamming your cervix so hard it’s knocking your breath out – but it’s everything you wanted, everything you needed; the very thing you’d been craving since you first sank down on his cock.

“who do you belong to, hm?” silco pants, voice stern and commanding despite its breathy quality. “who owns this sloppy pussy of yours?”

the only sounds you could make were whines, mewls, and moans — your coherency had long since been fucked from you, reducing you to nothing more than some limp cockwhore; and despite feeling lenient, silco wasn’t going to let that go.

“answer me or i’ll fuckin’ stop,” he threatens, kicking your heart into overdrive. “who fuckin’ owns you?”

“you do! you!” you yelp out, fingers scrabbling against his shoulders and hips shaking; your eyes are wet, fat tears teasing at the corners. “y-you own me. i belong to you, silco, please don’t stop, don’t—!”

“good girl,” silco purrs, shooting heat straight to your cunt. “such a good girl. now cum on m’cock, sweetheart. c’mon, make it messy. i know you want to, filthy girl.”

slick slaps and lewd moans, your pussy being split open over and over and cervix beaten in by silco’s cock — you’re so fucking close, you’re about to cum, you’re right fuckin’ there —

the sound that rips from your throat sounds almost inhuman — that coil in your gut snaps without much pre-warning, pussy gushing and fluttering around silco’s cock and waves wracking your entire body and leaving electricity in their wake.

“good fuckin’ girl,” silco coos, hips never slowing in their pace as he fucks you through your orgasm, groaning at the feel of your sloppy walls sucking him in. it was sending him into a frenzy — one that was sadistic and untamed, a fierce storm that demanded he absolutely wreck your body.

“keep coming, that’s it. mess it up f’me, baby. fuck, ‘m going to ruin you. don’t black out yet, dove. i’m just getting started.”

*locks myself back in the cabinet from whence i came* first time writing for silco, please forgive any mistakes 🙏

I LOVE this series so much 🤭🤭

Trine [10]

Anselm Vogelweide x Blue Jones x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 28: Cock Rings

Summary: Anselm has a new toy for Blue.

A/N: This was meant to be for kinktober 2023 (I'm so sorry).

Trine Masterlist

Warnings: threesome, anal sex, cock rings, oral sex (f! receiving), anal cream pie, coming on someone's stomach, cum eating, anal oral sex (m! receiving), butt plugs, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 1592

Blue shivers when you kiss his neck, leaning back and pressing closer to your soft touch. He sighs happily, his eyes half closed. 

Then he yelps as Anselm flicks the cock ring around his length. 

Blue scowls and Anselm chuckles at him. 

“What was that for?” 

“That,” Anselm moves closer, taking Blue’s jaw in his hand, “was completely for my amusement.” He kisses Blue wantonly, licking into his mouth and sucking on his tongue until he is a panting mess, gasping for air. 

“How does it feel?” You whisper in Blue’s ear, stroking one hand down his chest and hip, skirting around the curls between his legs. 

Blue nods.

“Not too tight?” 

He shakes his head. “Feels comfortable… a little odd.” 

You smile and kiss his temple and Blue preens. 

It’s a triple cock ring in stainless steel that Anselm, of course, had custom made for Blue. A ring rests around each of his balls as well as at the base of his heavy cock. 

“Come on now, my loves,” Anselm gives you both a cheeky grin, “enough hugging and kissing and let’s get to business.” 

Blue pouts a little and you purposefully hold him a little tighter and litter his forehead and the side of his face with kisses.

“When have you ever said that’s too many kisses?” You tease.

“When I could be getting fucked.” Anselm purrs, stroking your cheek and kissing you softly. 

You smile, slipping out from behind Blue and giving his ass a little pinch when he grumbles. 

You go and sit down on the bed, pillows propped up on the headboard so you can sit comfortably. “Do I get a bit of a show?” You grin. 

Anselm chuckles, “Oh, I hope so.” He gets on all fours on the mattress, facing you. He leans down a little and kisses your ankle, nipping lightly at your skin. 

You tut with good humour and lightly push his face away with your other foot. 

Blue bites his bottom lip a little nervously as he glances between you both. A little knot of anxiety low in his stomach. 

Anselm grabs both of your ankles and sinks his teeth into your calf, grinning when you yelp and giggle, and delighting further when you plunge your hand into his hair. 

You glance up at Bue and give him a warm smile. ‘It’s okay.’ You mouth softly at him and he nods. 

Blue moves onto the bed behind Anselm and lightly grabs his hips. Anselm stills, pressing his beard to your leg as he lets Blue take his time. 

Slowly, Blue runs his hands along Anselm’s ass and the back of his thighs, seeming to commit everything to memory before he lightly pulls the buttplug out of Anselm completely. 

He groans into your leg, eyes rolling back as the thick toy pops out of him. “Sehr gut, meine Süße.” Very good, my sweet. 

Blue shivers at the praise, his cock throbbing. But his hands shake ever so slightly as he pours lube over himself and then adds a liberal amount to Anselm’s already well lubricated hole. 

Anselm arches his back slightly, making the action easier and moaning headly as the cool substance runs along his skin. The top of his cock brushes against the cotton of the bedsheets, smearing precum and making him shiver. 

“Come on now, my love, I want to feel you inside.” He groans, his fingers holding onto your legs while you pull at his hair lightly. 

“Don’t be a brat.” You tease softly, “let him take his time.” 

Anselm pouts playfully at you. “I’ll remember that, my love.” He says darkly. 

“I hope you do.” You give him a cheeky smile. 

Blue notches himself at Anselm’s entrance, swallowing as he starts to ease inside. 

Anselm groans, throwing his head back, “that’s it, meine süße, that’s it, I can take you.” 

Blue whimpers, shivering as he sinks deeper. Anselm’s muscles squeeze around him, drag him deeper and he gasps. A wave of lightheadedness washes over him at the warmth. 

“Oh,” he lets out the tiniest sound and you smile. 

He presses closer, thrusting in the last few inches and grunts as he leans forward, practically laying over Anselm’s back as he breathes and gathers himself. 

Anselm moans delightedly, “Ah, wonderful, wonderful, I can feel you in the most perfect spot.” It’s Anselm who starts to rock back and forth, encouraging Blue to move.

Blue bites his lip, sitting back up on his knees and holding onto Anselm’s hips as he bucks and grinds, letting the older man completely control the pace as he clings on for dear life. 

“Blue,” you say softly and his attention snaps to you immediately. “You okay?”

He nods rapidly, “Feels really good,” he whines, his expression tense as he tries to master the sensations running through his limbs. 

“You like being inside our husband?” You tease and he whimpers. 

“Yes, I do mommy, I do.” He bites his lip again hard, gasping as his skin heats up and burns. 

Anselm rocks back forcefully against him, groaning and muttering praises. 

You grab Anselm’s hair a little tighter, forcing him to bend his neck back, “Ah, my love,” he groans and grins. 

“Stop moving.” You lean down and kiss his nose. Anselm smiles happily and does what you ask straight away without question. He stills his hips, only wriggling ever so slightly and enjoying the sensation of Blue filling him completely. 

“Come here and keep your lower half still.” As you settle back down you gently coax him down with you, pressing his head between your legs. 

He groans, his hands grabbing and squeezing your thighs as he drives in and swirls his tongue around your clit. 

You breathe in deeply, your muscles clenching as he laps and sucks. You swallow, letting him hook your right leg over his shoulder and press your heel into his upper back, so that he is now truly, face down ass up. 

You look back to Blue, “Now, sweet thing,” you smile at him, trying to keep your focus and not fall under Anselm’s spell immediately. “I want you to fuck him however you want, understand?” 

Blue nods a little uncertainly. 

“He’ll love it.” 

Blue smiles back softly and takes an experimentally slow thrust, pulling out and back in and revelling in the wet sound of the lube as his cock is practically sucked inside. 

Anselm moans between your legs as he laps at your pussy, his fingers digging into your skin. 

Blue gasps, shivers as he picks up his pace. He moves, placing one foot flat while kneeling with the other leg so he can put more power into his thrusts. Anselm’s walls clench around him, squeezing rhythmically. 

“Fuck.” Blue bites his lip, bucking harshly. He can’t stop his body from moving even if he tried, his muscles switching to overdrive to chase the pleasure completely. 

He can’t tear his eyes away from you both, how Anselm’s fingers spread out on your skin, how you arch and writhe under his mouth. 

Anselm groans, the sound low and deep as Blue pounds into him, his heavy cock hitting perfectly against his sweet spot and making him light headed. The friction is delicious, deep and heady as he stretches him wide, bullying further and further inside. 

“I’m, I’m,” Blue sobs, he shouldn’t be so close already, surely the ring should be helping him to hold back a fraction? But the sensations are burning and twisting so tight in his belly, pulling so hard on his bones. His balls try to draw up but the ring stops them, heightening the sensation.

Your eyes meet his as you keep Anselm’s mouth flush against you so he can’t get too bossy. “You can come Blue,” you whine, your blood singing with the promise of bliss. “Come whenever you want.” 

He cries out, tears in the corners of his eyes as he comes hard and deep, spurting into Anselm and filling him up rapidly. The cock ring draws out the pleasure, makes it last and last and last as he falls forward, gasping for air. 

You coo softly, muttering praises as Blue whimpers and pulls out slowly, his cum leaking out of Anselm’s entrance. 

Quickly, he ducks forward, licking up the older man’s balls and lapping at his hole as he reaches around and pumps Anselm’s heavy cock in time with the laps of his tongue. 

Anselm’s back bows, he practically growls as he feels Blue’s warm and eager tongue. 

“Ah, that’s it Blue,” you whine, your breathing catching as Anselm presses two fingers inside you as he sucks on your clit. “Make him come.” 

Anselm curls his fingers, rubbing perfectly at your walls as he swirls his tongue, purses his lips and you cry out, your fingers scraping along his scalp. 

Pleasure rushes over your nerves and whites out your vision, leaving you dreamy and weightless and Anselm works you through it. 

Blue groans excitedly, wriggling as your sighs hit his ears. 

Anselm moans as your cum hits his tongue, lapping greedily before he sits up quickly. Blue moves back, surprised, but Anselm wraps his hand around Blue’s jerking himself quickly and then gasping as he comes all over your stomach in hot, thick ropes. 

He sighs happily as he shakes, coming down from his high and softly takes hold of the back of Blue’s neck. “Time for clean up, my love.” 

He doesn’t even need to guide Blue to your skin, he practically jumps on you in excitement, his tongue lapping up Anselm’s spend. 

Thank you for reading!

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At This Hour

Jonathan Levy x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Day 24: On the counter

Summary: You look after Ava while Jonathan goes out on a date.

A/N: Thank you so much @thexsanctuaryx for betaing and being so lovely! <3

Warnings: neighbour!reader, mentions of the reader liking horror films/Terrifier, reader also has a cat, p in v sex, cream pie, fingering, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 2554

Jonathan knows he shouldn’t be doing this. But he just can’t help himself. 

The date had been a bad one, pointless in fact. He should have ducked out after the first ten minutes, no five. 

But he’d stayed and now it was nearly twelve fucking am by the time he got home. He should really go to bed. Get some sleep. 

Instead, he was talking to you, and drinking coffee. Oh, three am him was going to be pissed.

“I’m sorry I kept you so late,” Jonathan pushes his glasses higher. “Please, you got to let me give you some money.”

You shake your head, raising your hand, “Oh, no, no, no, you letting me pinch your netflix and amazon password for the last four months is more than enough.”

He chuckles, fiddling with his mug, “Yeah, but that’s just being neighbourly.” 

You scoff. “It is not, Jonathan.” 

Your friendship had started about seven months ago, when Jonathan had taken in a grand total of eight parcels from fedex on your, and your roommates, behalf in one day.

After collecting them, you’d apologised profusely, and baked him a banana cake. Panicking when you gave it to him that a, you didn’t actually know if he was allergic to anything, and b, that he actually liked bananas. 

Luckily he did.

Your friendship had grown when his car wouldn’t start one morning, and you’d given him a lift to work on your moped and picked him up after. Plus you’d got your friend’s cousin’s, uncle’s ex-colleague to have a look at his car and sort out the problem. 

He’d bought you lunch and looked after your cat if you had to go out of town. You watched his daughter if he had to work late on the days he had her. 

Originally, this hadn’t been his weekend to have Ava, hence why he had a date. A very, very bad date. 

“Come on,” he smiled at you, that horrible brilliantly blinding smile that leaves you weak at the knees, “usually you’re just with her for what, forty five minutes? An hour, this was nearly four.” 

You giggle, “I can’t believe you didn’t just politely leave.”

“I am a man of faults.” 

You laugh harder, “Look, I like Ava, we watched a series of R rated horror films and I made sure she ate her weight in sugar without brushing her teeth.” 

He grins. “I’m sure I would have had a better time with you guys here.”

You shrug, “Well, you can join us next time. We’re going to watch Terrifier.” You tease.

“Ugh,” he shudders, “Don’t tell me you like those kinds of films?” 

You can’t stop from smiling at his dramatic reaction. “What? You don’t?” 

He pulls a face and you giggle.

“They’re fun!”

“They are not.” He takes a sip of his cooling coffee, trying to nurse it as long as he could.

“They are.”

“All blood and guts.” He screws up his face, putting it on a bit for you.

“But the prosthetics! Plus it’s not real.” You say playfully. 

“Freaky.” He shakes his head. “Too much for my old heart.” 

You snort. “Jonathan.”

“What?” He smiles.

“I know what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing?” 

“You just want me to tell you how young you are.” You rest your chin on your hand as you look at him.

He pauses and then nods rapidly, “I do actually, and you have to, it’s the social contract.” 

You giggle, “Well, I’m not.” 

“That's unfair.” He says in mock outrage, making you laugh harder. 

“Fine,” you hold up your hands, “You’re very handsome.” 

He pauses, looking at you for a moment. “I said you had to tell me I was young, not beautiful.” He teases, expecting you to throw a comment back at him immediately. 

But instead, you pause. For a moment, it’s almost funny how you freeze. 

“I…” You swallow, your mouth dry. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“It’s okay,” he quickly covers, “I’m just teasing, it’s fine.” 

You smile weakly, your skin burning. You get up quickly, nearly knocking your mug over in the process. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Sorry, I, erm,” you pick up your mug, and then his, “Let me, erm, I’ll put them in the dishwasher.” 

You turn before he even has a chance to say anything, rushing over to the other side of the kitchen, putting the mugs on the counter.

Jonathan stands quickly, calling your name, “Hey, it’s fine, really. Don’t worry,” anxiety cuts into his chest, leaving his ribs bare. He walks behind you, accidentally bumping into you as you turn. 

“Sorry,” he grabs your arm to steady you and himself, his heart thudding so hard in his temples he’s sure he’s going to burst a blood vessel. 

You glance at his eyes nervously, breathing hard. “I…”

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” He says softly. He should put his hand down, stop touching your arm. “I was just teasing.” 

You nod, “I know, I… I’m sorry.” Your insides squirm a little, trying to find a way out to escape this awkwardness. 

“Don’t be,” he breathes, leaning a fraction closer. “It’s always nice when someone beautiful calls you handsome.”

Your brain glitches, static for a moment, rebooting.  

“Beautiful?” You repeat.

“Beautiful.” His mouth says before he has any say in the matter. “And kind, and funny, and wond-”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you and kissing him deeply. He groans into your mouth, pressing you back against the counter.

It takes him a moment to catch up with his body, to figure out this is actually real, not some well used fantasy he plays out behind his eyes in the shower. 

You pull lightly at his hair, moaning softly when he licks into your mouth and pushes his legs between yours. He rocks against you, his cock quickly hardening in his trousers as he presses against the seam of your jeans. 

Part of him wants to pull back, to not push things, to not rush. But the much louder voice in his head laments at how long he’s been holding back, how long he’s been thinking of you while touching himself with a lubed hand. 

You gasp as he kisses along your jaw, his beard tickling your skin as he sucks at your pulse point greedily. God, if he could just get you to make that noise one more time.

“Jonathan,” you moan softly, pressing yourself closer to him and pulling on his shoulders, needing to rid the fraction of space between you.

He growls, nipping at your neck and nearly coming on the spot when he hears how needily you call his name. “Can I take these off?” His words are nearly lost with how he sucks on your skin, barely able to move his mouth back more than a centimetre. He pulls at your top, your trousers and you nod hastily. 

His groan at your confirmation makes you shiver. He practically tears your clothing from you, pushing and pulling the material away as if it personally offended him, before he hikes your right leg up around his waist and urges you up onto the counter. 

He sucks your breasts into his mouth greedily, quickly going from one to another, like a child in a toy store unable to choose his favourite. While he presses his thumb to your clit and strokes his fore and middle fingers through your folds. 

He groans deeply at the wetness he finds, rocking against you as he pushes inside. 

You gasp, biting down on your lip to keep yourself vaguely quiet as you cling onto his shoulders with one hand and the counter with the other. 

He strokes gently, pressing rhythmically against your walls as he toys with your clit and you sob, practically clinging onto him for dear life.

Pleasure builds dizzyingly fast in your belly, threatening to pull you down with every stroke. You moan in his ear, lightheaded, just about gathering yourself together to whimper his name. You weren’t prepared for this utter onslaught, for him to be so determined to pull you apart piece by piece. 

Spikes of sensation buzz along your skin, twisting and building. 

“You’re going to make me come,” you sob, shocked at how quickly your body is ready to fall apart. 

“Fuck yes,” he growls, sinking his teeth into your collar bone before he licks up your neck back to your lips. It’s hot and wet and messy, his tongue in your mouth to quiet your sobs  as you pulse and gasp, coming violently around his fingers. 

You shake in his grip, breaking the kiss to bury your face in his shoulder. He works you through it, stroking and pumping until you feel like liquid in his hands. 

“God,” he groans, kissing your forehead and breathing hard. He takes his fingers out of you slowly and shoves them in his mouth, moaning wantonly at the taste. 

When you manage to pull back a fraction to look at him, you can see his glasses have steamed up. You giggle and he grins around his fingers, taking them out with a pop to kiss you. 

You run your hands through his hair, shivering as he presses close once more. 

“Do you?” He starts at the same moment you speak - “Can I?”

He chuckles, nodding for you to go first. 

“Take these off.” You mutter, pulling at his jumper. He moves back a fraction, letting you pull it over his head and snorting when his glasses get caught in the neckline. He whips them off, placing them on the side, his curls wild. 

Jonathan bites his lip as you unbuckle his jeans, helping you by undoing his fly.

“Can I fuck you?” He groans, kissing your cheek and jaw, each glide of his tongue makes your body sing. 

“Please.” 

He growls, barely pushing his jeans and boxers down his thighs before he’s taking his heavy cock in hand and pumping himself a few times. 

You take a cheeky look down and bite your lip. 

He grins, “Like what you see?” 

The line would make you giggle in any other situation, but now your mouth is watering. You nod rapidly. 

“Oh,” he chuckles, spitting in his hand, “So that’s what makes you lost for words, I get it.” He smears his saliva over the head of his cock before he presses closer, guiding the tip to your folds. 

“You’re really-” You whine, gasping as he notches at your entrance and just glides inside. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, your body bucking unthinkingly as he pushes deeper. 

He groans deeply, sighing like this is his first drink of water after a long hot day. He slides his hands to your inner thighs, spreading you wider as he eases in.

“Jonathan,” you gasp.

“I know, I know, fuck, you’re so tight.” He lightly rocks his hip, sheathing himself in the last few inches. 

You whine, licking into his mouth when he kisses you hungrily. He thrusts experimentally, easing out a fraction before he pushes back in. 

“How do you like it?” He mutters against your lips, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back. 

“I don’t mind,” you manage to say, your voice barely there. 

He snorts, moving one of your legs to wrap around his waist again as he takes hold of your hips in a firm grip. “Tell me if you want something.” He groans, pulling out and then plunging back in. “Want to make you come again.” 

You nearly shriek, throwing your head back and managing, somehow, to keep your voice muffled as he sets a brutal pace. 

He bucks into you rapidly, shaking the cutlery on the drainer by the sink with every deep thrust. The toaster jumps with every buck of his hips into yours. The sound of your slick echoing as you coat his cock.

“You look so fucking hot when you come,” he groans. “So fucking wet.” He pounds into you, sweat beading in his hairline, the way you grab at him and whine setting his blood ablaze. 

His pubic bone smacks against your clit with every thrust, his cock rolling against your walls and pushing impossibly deeper. 

Something in you wants to break, needs to snap and flood out as he keeps rhythm, your body moving in time with his desperately. 

You bite at his neck, sucking a love bite into his skin and shivering when he tenses and growls. He pulls you back a fraction with one hand on your jaw, his eyes so dark, and licks into your mouth like you hold the secrets of the universe. 

You whimper, so needy for anything he’ll give - and he’ll give you everything. 

Pleasure pulses in your core, makes your pussy flutter and you’re so close you can taste the sweetness on your tongue. 

“Jonathan!”

“You gonna come on my cock? Gonna make a nice creamy mess?” He groans, his balls tightening. “Want to feel you, please.” 

You gasp, sobbing silently as your orgasm is ripped from you. Pleasure explodes along your nerves, wiping out any other thought as he drowns you and revives you in the same instant. 

“Shit.” Jonathan’s hips stutter, his mouth open as your walls squeeze and suck him deeper, milking him for every single drop. He comes with a deep groan, emptying rope after rope of hot, thick cum inside. 

He clings onto you as he finishes, hazy for a moment with the strength of his orgasm. 

You breathe hard, he can feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest. 

Lightly he sucks on your neck, licking the salt from your skin. He kisses your temple. “You okay?”

“I don’t think I’m gonna be able to walk for a week.” You tease, exhausted, and he chuckles.

“I’ll wait on you hand and foot while you recover.” He smiles when you look up at him, stroking your cheek as he kisses you softly, reverently. 

“Honestly, was that alright?” He mutters, a pang of worry settling under his ribs.

You snort, and kiss him deeply, stroking your fingers through his beard. “Fucking amazing.” 

He grins. “Do you want to do it again sometime? Maybe in a bed after I’ve bought you dinner? I’ll even watch that Terrifier film with you.” 

You giggle and nod. “I’d like that.” 

He tries to help you down, but you end up helping him. His jeans have twisted around his calves and he nearly falls to a heap on the floor. 

“My hero,” he mutters as you pull them off and kiss his thigh. “We’re lucky Ava didn’t wake up when we were… can you imagine me falling over is the thing that actually wakes her? She’ll need therapy for years after seeing her dad naked on the kitchen floor with his jeans around his ankles.”

You clap your hand over your mouth to stop your fit of laughter and he grins as he helps you back to your feet.

“I love hearing you laugh.” He lightly touches your cheek. “Do you want to take a shower?” He gives you a cheeky smile. “With me? You can stay over… if you want, I mean. No pressure.” 

You smile and nod. “I’d like a shower. With you. And sleep over.” 

He grins, wrapping his arms around you. 

Thank you for reading!

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THIS.

the level of censorship around this man is ridiculous, what happened to free speech? It’s just his name.

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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santiago garcia- love at first sight

Summary: Will and Benny bring over Frankie and Santiago for dinner. For Santiago, it’s love at first sight. (~3k)

Contents: no smut, fluffy and fun, fem reader, sexual implications and jokes, this whole thing is group banter and flirting with Santiago, reader had one night with Benny a long time ago

-----

You almost kick the four of them out of your house. Almost.

Will had immediately picked up a football that your nephews had left at your house, thrown it to Benny, and broken a lamp.

Benny had made himself a cold cut sandwich and eaten half, even though he knew you were making them a huge welcome dinner.

Frankie got the other half of the sandwich. He’d apologized, but he’d still eaten it.

And then there was Santiago.

When Benny said he was stopping by for the night, you were thrilled. He said Will might come. Great. And surprise, two other guys are coming by too.

Everyone was welcome, you’d said. You had a spare room, an office with a pullout couch, and a living room sofa. You knew how to cook for an army ha ha fucking ha.

Francisco Morales, who is tall and shaggy and adorable.

Santiago Garcia, who is not as tall, in no way shaggy, and looks at you like you’re covered in gravy, and he’s going to eat you all the way up.

You kick them all out into the backyard.

On his way out, Santiago dares, he dares, to pretend he doesn’t have enough room to get by you while you’re at the stove. Has to lay his hand on the small of your back to squeeze by.

“Excuse me,” he says politely.

You tap the wooden spoon on the side of the spicy corn you’re frying. You point it at him. “You’re not fooling anyone, Garcia. Keep your mitts to yourself.”

He grins. He tilts his head like, you don’t want that. We both know it.

You jump when Benny’s big hand lands on your shoulder. “Oooh, sweetheart, that smells amazing. Gonna finally put some hair on Pope’s chest with that,” he says.

You look Santiago up and down. “You smooth like a Ken doll?”

He licks his lips, chin tilted up slightly. “Not everywhere.”

His dark, brown eyes lock onto yours. You look away first. Damn.

Benny reaches out and shoves Santiago’s shoulder. Half good-natured, half a little too hard.

“I told you not to flirt with her. She’s already doing all of this for us. She doesn’t need you slobbering all over the back of her neck.” Benny reaches for a roll, fresh from the oven, and you smack his hand. He hisses and shakes it out. “Be nice or I’ll tell Pope how you and I met.”

You shoot him a warning glare.

“I want two rolls before dinner,” Benny says, always angling for more food.

“No, you wait like everyone else.” You slide the basket further away from him.

Benny pauses, then looks at Santiago. “We had sex on prom night. We weren’t even each others’ dates. Which is also why she’s off limits to you. The four of us have a strict bro’s before-“

You clear your throat. “Rethink the end of that phrase, Miller Two. Or you’ll be eating saltine crackers on the side of the road.”

Benny grins. He puts his hands up and backs away.

“Out, both you,” you say.

Benny leaves, but Santiago slides up next to you. He stops short of actually touching you, but you can almost feel his body heat. The scent of him makes your mouth water.

“Let me help you,” he says, smooth and even. “I’m a good cook. I promise.”

Knowing he probably won’t leave you alone, you give him the spoon. At least this way, he’ll be occupied. “Stir that. Don’t burn my corn,” you say.

“I’d never let anything bad happen to your corn.” He stirs slowly, watching the pan. “I hope I get to eat a huge helping of your corn later. I’m sure your corn is fucking delicious.”

Corn should not be sexual.

But you guess Santiago Garcia never met a word he couldn’t make sound like an orgasm waiting to happen.

He shoots a glance at you from the corner of his eye.

Yup. He knows what he’s doing.

With a huff, you check the double-ovens. You’ve made not one, not two, but three pot roasts. And mashed potatoes. And stuffed onions. And the corn and rolls.

You figured four grown-men back from the jungle would ensure no leftovers. Also, you were glad to see Benny and Will alive and mostly uninjured and this was how you expressed happiness.

Although Will seemed to wince when you hugged his middle. You’d interrogate him later.

Of course, you were glad Catfish and Pope were alive and well. You’d only heard about them until today, but you almost felt like you knew them.

Or rather, Frankie seems to be everything you’d heard.

Santiago is a whole other kettle of… corn.

At least he works in silence. He puts in a little more salt, stirs, turns down the heat.

And then he just watches you.

Watches you take the roasts out of the oven and cover them to rest. Watches you check the onions.

“Stop doing that,” you say, gesturing to the glass-fronted cabinet on the other side of the kitchen. It was your grandma’s and still holds her good dishes. “Do you know how to set a table, or do you eat all your meals with a plastic spork?”

“It’s metal actually,” Santiago says seriously.

You almost laugh. Santiago’s eyes light up when he sees you unable to control a smile. He scratches the stubble on his chin, the sound making your stomach flutter.

“I’ll get Will to help. He’ll make sure everything’s in order,” Santiago starts to leave, but turns back. “Hey, I couldn’t get a straight answer out of Benny. You and he still…”

You roll your eyes. “Just set the table, Spork. Do something civilized.”

Santiago smiles. It almost makes him look harmless. “Don’t worry. For the right woman, I’m completely domesticated.”

“I very much doubt that,” you say as you watch him open your back door to call for Will.

Although, he’d been the only one to take off his boots at the front door without being asked. Something your mother always says to watch out for. Means a man has good manners and is thoughtful.

But what does she know? Your father hogs the bucket of popcorn at the movies and leaves empty water glasses all over the house.

But he’s still completely and utterly devoted to you mother. Still brings her flowers. Still pinches her butt when he thinks his kids aren’t looking.

Will nods to you when he walks in the kitchen. His blue eyes see everything. He silently asks if you’re okay. You nod back.

“So, you gonna let this guy stay for dinner?” He claps Santiago on the back.

“He wasn’t the one who broke a lamp.” You give Will a pointed look and he nods in apology.

Santiago opens your grandma’s cabinet and starts taking out plates. The porcelain barely rattles. He’s quick, but careful.

His muscled shoulders flex under his dark t-shirt as he reaches in for the bowls. The flowered china should look ridiculous in his hands, but he treats the set of dishes with as much care as you do.

By the time you realize you’ve stopped everything and you’re just standing there, watching him, Will is already smirking, tongue working around the front of his teeth. He picks up the stack of plates, shaking his head.

They clatter slightly.

Santiago points at Will. “Ay, be fucking careful. These look like antiques.”

You have to turn so they don’t see you melt into a puddle of steaming hot goo. Thoughtful, just like your mother said.

You corral Santiago and Will into helping you bring everything to the big, oval table in the dining room. They sit on either side of you.

If you thought it was chaos when they’d arrived, dinner is a 3-ring circus. The serving platters never hit the tablecloth. They inhale everything as soon as it’s passed around.

It’s very gratifying. You’d complain about them chewing with their mouths open, but you don’t because they’re complimenting you between every single bite.

“You guys are like a pack of dogs,” you say. “I mean that as a compliment.”

“She prefers animals to people,” Benny says to Santiago.

“The four of us have seen people do things animals wouldn’t,” Santiago says, breaking into a roll and slathering butter on it. “Hell, we’ve lived dirtier than dogs.”

Frankie points at Santi. “Correct. I have a picture from Afghanistan. Your socks were so gross, they stood up by themselves.”

Your face dissolves into disgust. “No. That’s horrible. This is a dinner table, Frankie.”

“Sorry, mom. Ma’am,” Frankie goes completely red.

There’s a beat of silence before everyone breaks out laughing. Even Frankie, though he looks like he’s in physical pain.

“In Frankie’s defense, we always kind of thought of you like Will and Benny’s family,” Santiago says. “Although now I know that you and Benny used to date-“

“What the fuck did you just say?” Will says, his jaw tight, blue eyes zeroing in on his brother.

Santiago’s face goes slack. “Oh shit.”

Benny’s fork clatters onto his plate.

“Careful with the china,” you yell at him.

“Sorry,” he says, then turns to Will. “We didn’t date. We just…” he motions with his fingers.

Will’s face looks like manslaughter, “no. Don’t tell me anymore.”

Santiago leans in. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

You mime slicing your neck open with your thumb. His face relaxes again, amused.

You turn to Will, seeing how spooled up he is about the revelation that you and Benny had been more than friends once upon a time.

“Will? What’s the dumbest thing you ever did before you were 20?” You ask him.

His jaw works back and forth, his fork swiping through the food on his plate. “Couldn’t really say.”

“The dumbest thing I ever did was your brother, Benjamin Miller,” you say.

“Hey, why do I get hurt in this?” Benny says.

“Shh,” Frankie hushes him.

“It was once, the night we met, and it never happened again,” you say, passing Will the bread basket.

He takes it with a grim look. “We’re going to keep on pretending it never happened.”

“You’re the one who brought Loud Mouth Garcia to dinner. Can’t even keep a secret. How the hell were you ever Delta?” You say to Santiago.

“Persistence,” he says, brown eyes sparkling at you, “I’m a persistence predator.”

Benny clears his throat. “Hey creep-o-saurus-rex, pass the pot roast.”

Santiago picks up the dish and holds it out to Benny, his eyes still on you. “T-rex wasn’t a persistence predator, Benny.”

“Whatever, quit looking at her like you want to eat her out at the dinner table,” he mumbles, scooping food onto his plate.

Will takes a roll out of the basket and beans it off Benny’s head.

“I’m still gonna eat that,” Frankie says, reaching down where it landed on the floor and picking it back up. “Damn good meal.”

You take a moment to look around at this table full of ridiculousness. It’s almost like an out of body experience. Two guys who are like your brothers. One guy who apparently needs a mother figure so badly he’s willing to settle for someone younger than him.

And Santiago Garcia.

You’re going to have a hell of a hard time sneaking him into your room later. Never mind that you can tell he’s going to make you come your brains out at the top of your lungs.

Will taps your foot under the table. He grins at you. “You missed us. Admit it.”

You act like you’re not sure. “I was having a really nice day until you and your chucklefuck friends showed up.”

“We can get hotel rooms. We don’t want to put you out,” Frankie says, his lost puppy eyes working exactly how he’d intended. “You’ve already done enough.”

“I want you all to stay. Trust me,” you reassure him. “I have 2 dozen eggs in the refrigerator for tomorrow morning and big plans for french toast.”

Santiago groans. “You’re going to put me into a coma. But before I go, please, marry me.”

Benny whistles under his breath. “Never heard Pope say the ‘M’ word before.”

“Dibs on Will for the wedding party,” you say, looking at Santiago out of the corner of your eye.

“Okay. I’ll take Benny and Frankie,” Santiago says.

You eye his plate. “Did you like my corn?”

“Fucking loved it.”

You hear chairs pushing back from the table. You and Santiago’s eyes break apart.

“I’m taking my plate outside. You two are making me nauseous,” Will says.

“Right behind you,” Benny picks up his plate and the dish of pot roast.

Frankie looks torn, but eventually gives in and stands too. “Give us a holler when you’re done.” His face gets pink. “Not like done, doing anything. I don’t think you’re going to do it right here. But it’s your house. If you want to.”

Will sighs. “Catfish, quit while you’re not even ahead.”

Santiago stretches his arm out on the back of your chair as the other guys make a quick exit. His fingertips brush lightly against your arm.

“So,” he says, “were you just giving Will and Benny a hard time or are we really doing this?”

“I don’t know. Are you all talk? A flirting for sport kind of guy?”

You’d gotten that impression of Santi, from some of the stories you’d heard. But in person, he doesn’t strike you as shallow or fake. You always trust your gut about people. And your gut says to trust Santiago.

“I’m not flirting. I’m not hunting,” he says. “I’m just, talking to the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.”

You can’t breathe for a few seconds. Those words, smooth and warm, his serious eyes and the corner of his mouth still raised in half a grin.

Santiago’s hand brushes your hairline at the back of your neck, then settles onto your skin, ever so slightly massaging your muscles.

“Will you let me take you to dinner tomorrow night? Away from these ‘chucklefucks,’ as you so lovingly said.” His fingers wind their way down, into the collar of your shirt, where your shoulder and neck meet.

“Well, to be clear, I was also including you in that group. But, yes, I’d love to go out with you.”

Santiago looks visibly relieved. Something about his confidence, how it’s both real and also a complete front, makes you want to hold onto him. Keep him.

His fingers pull back. He brushes his knuckles over your chin. Before you can do the same, feel the scrape of his five o’clock shadow on your fingers, Frankie comes bounding back into the dining room.

“Sorry for interrupting,” he rubs his hands together nervously, “do you have any ketchup?”

Your happy mood disappears. You glare at Frankie. “You tell Benny that if he puts ketchup on my pot roast, I’m never cooking for him again. Also, don’t let him make you do his dirty work, Frankie. You’re a grown man.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Frankie says with a grim smile. “What about the potatoes, though? For me. Not for Benny.”

“Fine. Refrigerator, top shelf,” you roll your eyes. “I always thought Will would’ve kept you guys in line.”

Santiago leans back in his chair. He looks at home already. “Will doesn’t like to interfere. Man of few words. Benny got all the talking in that family, not that I need to tell you that.”

It’s a little bit amazing to you, that he can sit here in your house like he’s been here a million times before, talking with you like you’re already together, about men you both know, but under very different circumstances.

His dark eyes sparkle at you, looking you over. “I used to think you were pretty, in the pictures Will or Ben would show us. You looked happy. It was nice to see someone having a normal life while we were over there, not being normal. It was good you sent that stuff, pictures and food and whatever.”

“Oh yeah? And who was sending you photos, and whatever?” You ask him.

“Mostly the Playboy Corporation,” Santiago grins. “I’m kidding. No one, actually. My family sometimes. No one like you.”

He’s so sweet you can’t believe this is the same guy you’d heard Will and Benny talk about for years. The smooth talker. The face man. Pope, who probably wouldn’t ever settle down.

No, this is a man who’s wanted to settle down for years. He just wouldn’t settle for less than exactly what he wanted. Which, it seems like, is you.

“Hey.” You give in to your number one urge and run your fingers through his black and silver curls. “How about I ask the guys to clean this up, and you and I go out for dessert? There’s a really good ice cream place downtown.”

Santiago’s face lights up like the fourth of July. “Only if we can get it to-go. We can sit in my truck and neck afterward.”

“Deal. We can ask Frankie to babysit the other two,” you laugh.

His hand finds yours, his fingers linking through and raising your hand to kiss your palm.

“Think we can still do this in ten years?” He asks.

“Do what?” You ask, confused.

“Go out for dessert, just the 2 of us, and leave the kids at home with Frankie.”

“Wow, you really go all in, don’t you, Garcia?” You smile.

“For you, yeah,” Santiago says. “I’ve worked my ass off, for what feels like every day of my life. This is the one thing that’s ever felt easy. Love at first sight.”

Your heart flutters, then drops right in front of him. You can’t help it. He’s right. Like he knows you feel it too, he leans in, like he can’t wait for this first kiss.

His soft lips press against yours.

And bang! There’s a huge crash on the table as mashed potatoes fly everywhere. Onto your clothes. In Santiago’s hair.

“Oh shit, sorry,” Will shouts from the kitchen.

A football sits squarely in the dish of potatoes.

“We’re not bringing them home any ice cream,” Santiago says, but he’s all smiles anyway, pulling you in to finish what’s still a perfect first kiss.

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Late Night Calls

Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Day 23: Can't get to sleep

Summary: Miguel misses you.

A/N: I'm just gonna go stare out of the window.

Warnings: phone sex, lube, jacking off, reader has a job which takes them away from their home on conferences occasionally, Miguel sleeping nakied, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 941

Miguel shifts in bed, rolling over for the seventh time in two minutes. He just couldn’t settle, couldn’t find any position that was remotely comfortable. 

He grabs your pillow and buries his face into it, inhaling your scent that still lingers on the cotton. He hates when you’re away, hates it more than anything. 

He knows it’s selfish and impractical, you had an important job that you loved and it was only a few times a year that you went to a conference that he couldn’t attend with you. He’d never stop you, never voice his upset. But he misses you. Painfully. 

There’s a buzz buzz buzz of his comminator and he groans, huffing and rolling over until he realises it’s you calling. 

He answers quickly. “What’s wrong?” 

You chuckle, “Hello to you too.” 

“Baby, it’s the middle of the night-”

“Then why aren’t you asleep?” 

He pauses, “I…”

“Don’t lie.” He can hear the smile in your voice. 

“I’m having difficulty.” He mumbles, laying back down, his heart already calming at hearing you.

“I know.” “How?” 

“Lyla called me.” 

He swears and groans. 

“She said you weren’t sleeping.” 

“So she woke you up?” He says gruffly. 

“No, I have trouble sleeping without you too.” You say soothingly.

“That’s a fucking lie, you fall asleep the second you get into bed.” He scoffs.

“No,” you draw out the word teasingly, “that’s only when you’re in the bed with me.”

He mumbles something noncomitable. 

“What was that?” You laugh.

“Nothing, just grumpy noises.” 

You laugh harder and he smiles, his chest growing lighter at the sound. He shifts a little, stretching and rolls onto his back.

“I’m glad you called, miss you.” He mumbles.

“I miss you too.” 

“I miss you more.” 

You snort and he grins again. 

“I know why you can’t sleep,” he says after a moment.” 

“Oh, yeah? Why?” “I didn’t fuck your brains out beforehand.” 

You laugh harder.

“Hey,” he tries his best to interject some outrage into his voice, but it doesn't work. 

“I think that’s why you can't sleep.” You retort.

“Maybe.” You pause, you hadn’t expected him to just admit it. “Why don’t you?”

Miguel swallows thickly, “Why don’t I what?” 

“Come?” 

He wriggles a little, a shiver running down his spine. “Not the same if you’re not here.” 

“I am here.” 

He swallows thickly. 

“I think it’ll help you sleep.” You say softly. 

“Okay.” He breathes out the word, fragile and quiet on his tongue. “What… what should I do?” His voice small.

“Get the lube from the bedside table.” 

He nods, then adds a quick, “yeah,” as he rumages around in the top drawer and pulls it out. 

“Lay back down.” 

He follows your suggestions without a second thought, getting comfortable and pulling down the blankets.

“You naked?”

“Hmmm.” 

“Good boy.” 

He lets out a little groan at the sound of your voice. 

“Put your fingers on your chest.” You say softly, his mind going a little numb as he closes his eyes and places his fingers against his skin. 

“And just traiiiiill down,” you whisper. 

He groans as he strokes down his chest, picturing you above him in his mind’s eye. He shivers, his muscles jumping under the feather-light touch. 

“Tha’s it,” you say sweetly, “Now get your hand nice and wet.” 

He moans a little as he flicks open the bottle of lube and pours a hefty amount onto his palm. The sound of the cap opening is enough to make his cock twitch and harden quickly. That was definitely something to think about later. He rubs the lube in his hand, warming it slightly. “It’s wet.” He mutters.

“Want you to make a tight hole with your thumb and fingers, can you do that?” 

He nods, and then swallows, realising that you can’t see him. “Yeah, I can do that.” He moans.

“Good boy, now I want you to fuck your hand, nice and slow.” 

Miguel bites his lip, whining softly. “Okay.” He holds the base of his heavy cock, positioning it so that he can press the tight little hole he made against the tip. He shivers, his legs squirming. 

“How does it feel?”

“Good, but…” “But?” You smile.

“Made it too small.” He bites his lip with his sharp teeth. 

“You can widen it a little, but keep it as tight as possible, okay?” 

“Yes,” he mumbles breathlessly, “I will.” 

“Good boy Miguel, you drag it down your cock.” 

He groans loudly, thrusting up slowly in time with his hand. 

“Take your time, get all the way to the bottom.” 

He huffs, trying to stop his hips from bucking wildly. 

“And all the way up.”

Miguel groans loudly, the deep sound of his slick hand echoing. 

“You keep doing that, nice and slow.” You mutter. 

He whimpers ever so slightly, his breathing catching in his throat. 

After five more long, agonising pumps you whisper, “a little faster.” 

“Thank you,” he shivers, picking up the pace ever so slightly. 

Three more pumps, “Faster.”

“Fuck.” He misses you so fucking much, needs you there with him now to wrap your arms around him and play with his hair as you tease him. 

“Faster.” 

He whines again, high pitched, his balls tightening. “I’m gonna come.” 

“So soon?” You tease. 

“Yeah,” he whimpers, “miss you, want you, need you- oh!” He comes hard, shooting robs of warm cum all over his stomach as he cries out your name. 

He breathes hard as aftershocks roll through him. 

You giggle playfully. “Did you make a mess?” 

“Yes.” He pouts. “A big one.” 

You bite your lip. “Can I see?” 

“I’ll send you a picture.” 

Thank you for reading!

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Want to learn something new in 2022??

Absolute beginner adult ballet series (fabulous beginning teacher)

40 piano lessons for beginners (some of the best explanations for piano I’ve ever seen)

Excellent basic crochet video series

Basic knitting (probably the best how to knit video out there)

Pre-Free Figure Skate Levels A-D guides and practice activities (each video builds up with exercises to the actual moves!)

How to draw character faces video (very funny, surprisingly instructive?)

Another drawing character faces video

Literally my favorite art pose hack

Tutorial of how to make a whole ass Stardew Valley esque farming game in Gamemaker Studios 2??

Introduction to flying small aircrafts

French/Dutch/Fishtail braiding

Playing the guitar for beginners (well paced and excellent instructor)

Playing the violin for beginners (really good practical tips mixed in)

Color theory in digital art (not of the children’s hospital variety)

Retake classes you hated but now there’s zero stakes:

Calculus 1 (full semester class)

Learn basic statistics (free textbook)

Introduction to college physics (free textbook)

Introduction to accounting (free textbook)

Learn a language:

Ancient Greek

Latin

Spanish

German

Japanese (grammar guide) (for dummies)

French

Russian (pretty good cyrillic guide!)

To the men who voted for Donald Trump today:

When your girlfriend gets pregnant, and you’re not ready to become a father, and you’re forced into a position that cripples you emotionally, financially and irreversibly, remember: you did this.

When your sister’s pregnancy turns out to be ectopic, and she can’t get the life-saving medical care she needs and dies a completely pointless, preventable death, remember: you did this.

When your 12-year-old daughter is raped by her soccer coach — after he’s legally allowed to strip off her pants and peep at her genitals, because the existence of trans kids terrifies you — and she steals your shotgun and kills herself in your garage, remember, first and foremost: you did this.

Hundreds of thousands of people are going to die because of the decision you made today.

You did that.

could you write argyle x shy!reader headcanons? i feel like their dynamic would be so cute

I may have gotten carried away 🫣 smutty headcanons under the cut.

Argyle is such a sucker for his shy girl

When he first sees you, he’s immediately dumbstruck

He’s bringing a pizza to your table of friends and rambles about god knows what

“Uh, hey, here’s your pizza. I’m, um, Argyle. If you need anything. Like napkins. I see you, uh, have napkins, but if you need more…I have napkins in the back. Of the store. There’s lots of napkins. No napkin shortage here. It’s sad for the trees but good for, uh, spills.”

He makes you smile without even meaning to

One of your friends goes up to him later and gives him your number

When he calls and asks you out, it’s more rambling where he’s trying to sound casual but utterly fails

“Do you like movies? Yeah, me, too. Oh, hey, we should see one together! Maybe Friday night, if you’re free. Or if not, that’s cool. Well, not cool because I’d be super bummed. But no pressure or anything, man. I mean, woman.”

When you accept, Argyle takes you on a date

He lets you pick the movie

He does the yawn-and-stretch, his heart beating a million miles an hour

And then you carefully snuggle into him and his brain goes HOLY SHIT

Man literally doesn’t move the entire time except to very gingerly take popcorn from the bucket you’re sharing

Once you’re officially together, Argyle introduces you to Jonathan

You’re nervous about meeting his best friend, and he calms you down

“You have nothing to worry about, princesa. Byers’ll be on his best behavior. He knows not to mess with my girl.”

(What you don’t know is that Argyle threatened to cut off Jonathan’s supply of Purple Palm Tree Delight if he made one wrong move.)

Speaking of when you get nervous, especially in social situations, Argyle is the king of forehead kisses

He just goes, “hey, look at me” and then leans in and MWAH on your forehead

Argyle always lets you braid his hair

If you’ve never smoked before, he teaches you how, never laughing when you cough

“Just a little inhale. There ya go, mi querida.”

He loves watching you get comfortable with the people he cares about

The first time you (lovingly) make fun of Jonathan, Argyle bursts out laughing

“Well, you do look like Ringo if his mom gave him a bowl cut!”

Argyle loooooves holding your hand

He always does that little thumb-rubbing thing as a way to remind you that you’re safe with him

NSFW BELOW

You’re not super into PDA, but you do love make-out sessions in the back of his van

The first time you make out with him in the back of his van, he gets really into it

Like, cums in his pants after dry humping for a few minutes

Not so dry after that

One thing Argyle did not expect is how loudly his shy girl moans

You’re breathless and squirming beneath him, arching your back as he pulls you close

When you realize how noisy you’re being, you nervously bite your lower lip, but he takes his thumb and draws your lip from under your teeth

“Even your moans are beautiful, amor. Please let me hear them.”

Always asking you what you like

“Does this feel good? Just wanna make you feel good. Fuck, I’ll do anything for you.”

His favorite is when you straddle his waist, the two of you shotgunning a joint until you’re both too giggly to smoke any more

“I’m gonna kiss those pretty little lips right off of your pretty little face. God, I love you, baby.”

DUTY CALLS

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.”