Jayce X Reader - Blog Posts

Coming back to this bc I genuinely fucking heart sub silco sm😍

I WILL fuck that old ass man

                     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!

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First Time

Fic type-> NSFW + request

Tags-> Sub/ bottom Jayce, Jayce’s first time bottoming, no protection/ cumming inside, so amab reader.

Word count-> 1560, just about a short story

AN-> I can’t find a way to reply to the initial req so I hope you find this anon, also it was a nightmare trying to publish this but I’m glad I got it done in a timely manner.

Masterlist | AO3

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“This ok?”

“Yes just, feels… different.”

You’re careful to ease your finger inside of him, for the first time that is. You’d both decided to ‘switch it up’ given Jayce is usually the one fucking you- not that it became boring or anything no way, (the rumours going around Piltover were in fact true) it’s just you’d been together long enough to start experimenting a little. And this seemed like a solid first step into unknown territory, at least for Jayce.

“That’s it.”

You mumble, leaning in to place gentle kisses against his jaw, trailing down to his neck and collarbones as you eventually reach your knuckle. You begin ever so slowly pulling it back out again when you feel his hand on your shoulder.

“Wait, wait just…”

“Yea?”

Stopping your movements you look up at him, quirking an eyebrow. He looks unsteady, sending a pang of worry through you.

“We don’t have to do this…?”

His mouth hangs open a second or two before answering.

“No I do want to, I do, and I don’t think you can be any gentler… but it’s all new and- and weird and…”

“Different?”

His lips form a small smile, you breathe a subtle sigh of relief at his reassurance.

“Yes, so let’s just, go slow.”

You take out your finger and grab the bottle of lube from beside you once more.

“Ok, do you want to adjust or anything? Then we’ll try again.”

He reaches behind him and takes one of the pillows he was laying his head on.

“Put this under me, I feel too sat-up.”

And that you do, you may feel a little further away from his face than before but that should change soon.

“Let’s try more lube this time, see if that helps.”

You squirt some on the same finger as before, getting some on the one next to it, and place one of his legs over the top of yours for a better angle.

Your eyes meet in a silent agreement before you look back down to the task at hand, placing one of your own on his waist.

The finger enters him once more, able to make it to the knuckle fairly quickly this time.

You steadily insert the second, making Jayce groan quietly at the stretch. You begin moving your fingers in, out and around without prodding too much just to get him used to the feeling. He takes a gasp of air when you brush over his prostate.

“Is-“

“Just keep going.”

It’s not like Jayce to interrupt. Glancing up you notice him staring at the ceiling, a faint flush on his cheeks. Deeming him a bit more than okay, you continue.

“Alright.”

You find the spot once more, curling your fingers and putting some pressure against it. Jayce only lets out a breathy moan and lets his eyes fall closed briefly.

“Yea that’s… that’s good.”

You smirk at his reaction.

“Hm, that’s an improvement.”

You continue like this for around a minute more, making double sure he’ll be ready for the real thing. You probably would’ve gone on for longer if he hadn’t started to get impatient.

“I’m ready, it’s fine now.”

“You sure?”

“Yes I’m sure, trust me.”

You take your fingers out and put some of the remaining lube on them on your ever-hardening dick. You grab the bottle and put some more on just to be safe.

“Just, c’mere, please.”

You shuffle closer to him on the bed, he puts his other leg on top your thigh without you having to ask him too. You bite your lip as you line yourself up, then slowly start pushing yourself in.

Jayce’s thighs flex as he tenses up.

“Just relax for me, nearly there…”

You think it good to start stroking him to distract from the foreign feeling. He sighs as you feel his body relax a little, you hook your other hand around one of his thighs near to his hips. Your bodies get pressed flush together as you enter him to the hilt.

“Ooookaaayyy…”

A breathy whisper from Jayce as he adjusts to the fullness inside of him. His hands land on you anywhere they can reach for support (and probably not knowing what to do with them otherwise). Needing some stimulation yourself, you roll your hips into him and lean down to kiss him too to distract from the movement. You both groan into the other’s mouth at all the new sensations.

Kissing down his jaw again he lets his head fall back and you feel his gentle pants against your ear.

“You feel so good Jayce, so tight.”

“M-more… please…”

He sounds hesitant, but equally as desperate. A tone you can’t resist.

You let your own need slip through the reigns as you start pulling your hips back more and more with each thrust. Jayce’s hands reach up your chest, one going up to squeeze your shoulder. He can barely contain his own noises as you find a steady but still gentle rhythm to fuck him to, now abandoning his dick in favour of holding his hips instead.

“C’mon, shit, you can do more.”

“We said we’d take it slow-“

“Fuck that…”, he looks up at you with those eyes you know all too well. His eyebrows furrowed but his eyes still wide- pupils blown,

“… so fuck me.”

You sigh and hoist one of his legs up so his calf rests on your shoulder. Your thrusts pick up again- only faster this time. He throws his head back as you make his body shift with them. An audible slapping sound echoes from your hips against his ass.

“Fuck!”

A light sheen begins to form on both of you, his dick now leaking against his navel- hard and twitching.

“God Jayce… doing so good f’me.”

You take hold of his cock in one hand and begin stroking in time with your thrusts, the other is placed next to his head to prop yourself up some more. This pushes him deeper into some sort of half-folded-missionary position. He moans as he looks down at the sight of himself getting fucked like this.

He throws his head back again to look up at you.

“Harder, please harder, I can take it, make me take it.”

You wouldn’t be surprised his he was rambling at this point and he already looks thoroughly fucked-out, so there’s not a chance you’re slowing down now.

“Fuckin’ hell, didn’t know you’d be so desperate for it.”

You let your head hang as you let go of his cock and opt for pulling his hips towards you more, dragging him down the pillows.

“Didn’t know it’d, it’d be so good- right there, please.”

Try to keep drilling into the same spot, fatigue starting to get the better of you with the pace Jayce has set.

“Always a… piece of work with you huh?”

Heavy breaths intertwine between you as you let your head fall just above Jayce’s shoulder, almost rutting into him like an animal. His moans and whines fuelling you now that you feel your legs start to shake-

“Harder.”

“No-“

“Why-“

“Need to cum, gotta pull out.”

“Inside...”

You groan into his shoulder as you feel his arms grip your back, nails digging into your flesh.

“Jayce… fuuuuck.”

The leg not pressed into his chest wraps around your waist, urging you not to move another inch. You come to a still as he presses you against him as best he can with his leg between the two of you, you can’t help but cum inside of him. He reaches down to touch himself as he arches his back into you, high-pitched whimpers being let out into your neck.

“Jayce-“

You feel his cum paint your stomachs as his walls spasm around your spent cock.

Both in a post-orgasm haze, you release your tight grip on the other. Just settling for a few seconds of being near each other before you start to get too warm against Jayce’s burning skin.

“We have to do that more often.”

“Come on, clean-up’s gonna be harder now that I came inside you.”

“It was better than I had thought it was going to be.”

You scoff and smile at his comment.

“I’m not one to over-hype things Jayce.”

— – - – — – - – —

A while later you two dry off after a shared shower, clean sheets on the bed. (courtesy of you, and only you).

“So, outta ten?”

Jayce tries to turn to look at you- already comfortable in bed- as he pulls on his sweat pants, stumbling a bit in his hunched flamingo-like position.

“Er, is that how we’re ranking sex now?”

“I don’t know, I just wanna know how it was. Thoughts, feelings, whatever.”

He doesn’t bother trying the strings at the front as he lays himself down across your legs.

“I told you already.”

“No I mean like, what happened to taking it slow you know?”

You smile knowingly at him, reading him like a book as he fidgets a bit.

“It was… really really good.”

“Aw, just good?”

He raises an eyebrow at you, before you wave a dismissive hand in his general direction.

“I get it, I get it.”

You both lay quietly for a few moments, both just taking in each other’s presence.

“Didn’t know you’d be a cumslut though-“

“O-kay, that’s enough talking for today.”

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SUB JAYCE‼️‼️

Thinking About You... A Lot

Notes: about time we get jayce solo session 😍😍

Pairing: Jayce x implied f!reader

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

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

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

It was consumed by the images you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ ~ ~

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

my taglist form!

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In the Lab…

Fic type-> NSFW + Drabble

Tags-> Sub Jayce, bottom jayce, degrading kink, kinda exhibitionism? both parties get off on getting caught, gn reader but they have smth to fuck him with whatever that might be lol, choking

Word count-> 705, about two pages of a book

AN-> I’m alive it’s a miracle! Anyways there’s not enough sub or bottom jayce fics just saying 🤷‍♀️. And as always, requests open!

AO3 | Masterlist

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It was Jayce’s idea. Not yours.

Honestly, blowing his back out in the lab wasn’t really what you had in mind when you said you wanted to try something new. It’s not like you hadn’t done it before- just this time it was in his lab, over his workbench, scarily close to the door. It didn’t help that Jayce didn’t know how to shut up during sex.

“Yes, yes- fuck!”

You apply more pressure against his wrists held behind his back, pressing him further into metal workbench- a silent warning.

“Jayce.” A hushed tone compared to his strained cries.

“‘m sorry, jus’ too good…”

You tug his trousers further down his ass since his loose belt buckle was clinking against the bench with every thrust.

You glance towards the door.

“Gah- god-“

You watch as his face distorts into one of pleasure as you’d just adjusted the angle of your movements.

“If you don’t know how to shut up-“

“Make me.”

His comment surprised you, he didn’t sound bratty when he said it. And no, he’s too good to disobey you. He sounded desperate for it. Like he needed you to keep him under control, even if he was perfectly capable of keeping quiet himself.

So you lean in, and let your breath caress his tanned shoulder blades.

“Oh, is that what this is all about then huh? Riling me up, teasing me?”

He hesitates before he answers,

“…no, please that’s… it’s not-“

You hook your hand over his mouth, only muffling his moans to your disappointment. He felt a jolt of electricity shoot down to his dick, smearing more pre against the underside of the workbench.

“This is what you wanted isn’t it? Getting me to slut you out in the lab in hopes of, what- getting caught?”

He could only moan into your hand as you pull him up so his head rests on your shoulder, his hair splaying out across it.

“You’re such a whore, who are you imagining walking through that door right now huh?”

You turn your head towards his ear letting your breath hit it, eyes flitting up briefly. You only grin.

“Is it Mel? Or perhaps Viktor?”

You let go of his mouth and instead opting for his neck to hold onto for leverage.

“Both-“

“Both? And what would they do if they saw you like this? Man Of Progress against his own workbench, taking dick like a bitch huh?”

Jayce can’t help but groan at the idea, someone so close to him walking in on such a scene.

“Come on, what would they do…”

You grip his hip harshly to re-adjust your position slightly, his mouth drops open and his now free hands flailing to try to bring you ever closer to him. You know you hit the spot with each thrust too when he stammers before he replies.

“I-I don’t know-“

“I think they’d like it, someone finally having the guts to fuck all that arrogance out of you.”

As you talk you sneak in kisses along his jawline and neck, even leaving one dark mark along the side of his neck.

He whimpers and squeezes his eyes shut, imagining Mel’s and Viktor’s sneering faces. Perhaps they’d be muttering between each other as they stare at him like he’s a common whore.

“Just- fuck- I’m gonna cum.”

“You gonna cum ‘round my cock and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“Please, please let me cum- I’ll be-“

“Good? You gonna be good if I let you cum?”

“Mmhmmm…”

“Well… go on, be a good boy and cum for me.”

Like the flick of a switch he arches his back into you and cums across the underside of his workbench, your final few thrusts making it smear all along his dick afterwards.

You feel him go fairly pliant against you as his heavy breathing gets gradually slower, his eyelids slip closed.

You simply smile as you hold his jaw and tilt it away from you. He lets it loll to the side like you want as he pries his eyes open.

Of course Mel and Viktor are standing in the doorway, and of course they both look rather flustered.

— – - – — – - – — – - – — – - – — – - – — – - – — – -

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.

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.”

jason or jayce?

Hey Hextech, is it gay to cuddle your co-workers?

A continuation of lab shenanigans.

Characters: Viktor, Jayce, Reader

(Jayce/Viktor/Reader) (POLYCULEEEE!)

A thread following the chaotic trio that is, laboratory illustrator!Reader, Viktor and Jayce being unsupervised in the lab.

Note; this takes place during season 1, and the reader is gender neutral with they/them pronouns.

CONTAINS VIKTOR SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2!

There's only one couch in the lab.

There are three desks, four chairs, one whiteboard, boxes upon boxes of chalk, and only one couch.

The couch which Jayce is currently taking a cat nap on and taking up all of the room of. The lab lights are dim, and Jayce looks so comfortable, sprawled out on his back, with his boots still on his feet, whilst his legs hand off the end of the furniture because he's just that fucking tall. He has an arm slung over his eyes despite the low light, and he looks stupidly adorable.

Reader is half tempted to turn right back around and try to find somewhere else to take a power nap. They can't be bothered to lock up their desk, and walk all the way across the academy, and then all the way home to tumble into bed. And their desk is a no no, since hey always wake up with a painful crick in their neck and Viktor's knowing grin taunting them for their bad choices.

The couch looks tempting though... and can they really be bothered to go wandering around campus looking for somewhere comfortable to sleep until their meeting later? The answer is no. No they cannot.

Besides, Jayce finished with the council over three hours ago, so he's had plenty of time for undisturbed rest. And clearly, if he didn't want to share, than he would have put his sizeable salary into finding another couch for the lab already.

Decision made, and sleep tugging at their eyelids, they shrug off their jacket, yank off their boots and carefully sit on the very edge of the couch near Jayce's hip. The worn cushion barely gives under their weight it is so old and devoid of stuffing. How Jayce is deeply asleep on the thing and continues to choose to nap on it since it was brought in, they had no idea.

There's enough room for them to gingerly lay down parallel to Jayce's body on their side. They're so tired, they hardly care. Everything aches. And Viktor isn't around to tease them for essentially 'cuddling' Jayce, which they clearly were NOT! Their back was to the man after all, with the cotton of their shirt barely brushing his jacket sleeve.

If they stayed still, he might not even notice. And they could have their nap and slip away without anyone even-

A sharp inhale of breath at their back has their body stiffening like a deer in headlights. Their tired eyes bug wide, and yet they manage to keep from throwing themselves off of the couch and taking the stupid nap on the hard, cold floor instead. Maybe Jayce won't even notice. Maybe they can pretend to be asleep already.

"You're going to fall off that close to the edge." And oh fuck... Jayce's voice is deep and slurred from sleep.

Their mind screeches to a hault, when the couch shifts violently, and then an arm is winding over their side to drag them backwards. Jayce does not pull them into his chest, but he does give them enough space to be laying on their side comfortably. He's rolled onto his side too, and has shifted back towards the backrest to create more room. He retracts his arm, and his breath evens out.

Reader's mind spins. Jayce is a touchy kind of guy. Always pressing a hand to their shoulder when commenting on a sketch, or leaning up against their back in the kitchen with a quiet apology when reaching for something in an hoverhead cupboard whilst they're waiting for the kettle to boil.

He does it to Viktor too, so Reader know's it is just Jayce being Jayce.

They fall asleep like that, one hand under their cheek, their back to Jayce with a respectful pinkies worth of space between them.

Of course they wake up tangled together. Jayce's arm somehow around Reader, keeping them from rolling off the edge of the couch. Their head is tucked up under his jaw, and his breaths slowly ghost across their ear. It is the most comfortable they've ever been whilst resting on this couch.

Viktor is at his desk, when they decide enough is enough and they REALLY have to get back to work. Jayce audibly grumbles as they untangle themselves, before rolling towards the backrest and putting his back to the rest of the lab.

Viktor scarcely looks up from his work before offering a simply, "ah, you're awake. When you've finished cudfling, mind helping me out with-?"

Viktor falling asleep at his desk.

Reader and Jayce have been quietly arguing over what angle, they should draw of a new project.

Viktor snores when he sleeps. Soft, barely audible puffs of air that are only really noticable when the debate dies down whilst both sides take a moment to breath and gather their thoughts for another round.

The sound draws both sets of eyes to Viktor's desk. Where he has passed out on his notebook, cheek pressed down against the pages, arms limp at his sides, and his cane leaned up against the desk beside him within arms reach.

Wordlessly, both decide to put a metaphorical pin in the argument, whilst Jayce steps away from Reader's desk and begins unbuttoning his waist coat, which has somehow become the unoffical lab blanket. Not only because Jayce is all to happy to lend it to either of his colleagues, but because it is big and warm and everyone secretly loves waistcoat priviledges.

On quiet footsteps, Jayce crosses the room to drape it over the man's shoulders. He doesn't stir, and the other two get back to their playfully fighting just a tad quieter.

Reader not having the keys to get back into the lab, so they sit down beside the doors in the corridor to wait for Viktor or Jayce to come back. Of course, they fall asleep slumped against the wall, and Viktor and Jayce rock up together to find them. Viktor sighs, very put out.

"If anyone saw this, they'd accuse us of abuse." He mutters to himself, rummaging in his pocket for his keys.

Jayce bends down to rouse reader who was having a surprisingly good nap. They refuse to get up and just curl up tighter.

"Come back in ten minutes." They negotiate sleepily.

And Jayce is torn. They look really comfortable, but they'll certainly be feeling sitting on the floor later, so he's reluctant to just leave them there without a cushion at least. Of course, Viktor is quick to prod him along.

"Come on Jayce!" Viktor prompts. "If they're going to be a brat, treat them like a brat."

Which Jayce interprets as scooping Reader up into his arms instead of leaving them out in the hall with the lab door left unlocked.

Of course Reader wakes up immediately. Demanding to be put down, and squirming, Jayce just grins and hauls them inside whilst Viktor shakes his head at their stupid display. Jayce then unceremoniously dumping reader on the couch, and as tradition at this point, shrugs off his jacket to throw at their head.

"We should probably invest in a blanket." Reader grumbles, spreading the jacket over them as best they can before snuggling down.

Viktor deadpans. Somehow, he doesn't think the sentiment will stick for long. Not with his own secret love of waking up wrapped in Jayce's waistcoat, and not with Reader's visible relaxing form under the weight of the jacket, and not with the stupidly soft look Jayce is looking down at them with.

Reader who drags Jayce down by his shirt collar or the lapels of his waistcoat to press a kiss to his forehead.

Reader who exclusively kisses Viktor's moles. As a rule they kiss both of them in farewell after a long day. On under his eye, and the other above the corner of his lip.

Reader who then has to go back to Jayce to bestow him with his second kiss because otherwise he pouts and demands that you play fair.

They're not dating yet...

Lying in Jayce's bed after a rare evening of leaving the lab early. Sitting elbow to elbow up against the pillows, all three of them are reading books, and have changed into their night wear, with Jayce in the middle and Reader and Viktor on either side. Mainly because Jayce tends to roll a lot and will roll OFF the bed if given the chance, and Viktor needs easy access to his cane or brace at all times.

It is Reader who breaks the silence without looking up from their book. "Would you guys still love me if I were a worm?"

They feel two sets of judgemental eyes turn to zero in on them. So they play it cool and neatly turn a page. Their partners exchange confused looks.

"If it were humanly possible," Jayce started slowly, "maybe?"

"Absolutely not." Viktor firmly added.

Reader sets down their book offended. "Maybe?" They parrot back to Jayce, and then turn on Viktor who meets their gaze with a frown. "Flat out no!? Do you two even love me?"

"Of course." Viktor says calmly, "but if you happened to turn into a worm, I would not be best suited to offer you a comfortably, inhabitable environment, what with my long work hours and dangerous research. Therefore, it would be kinder to set your worm-self free, and let us both move on with our lives."

Reader stares back at him in betrayal.

"So you don't love me."

Viktor rolls his eyes at their dramatics.

Jayce tries to soothe them. "Well, look at it this way, it won't happen, so you won't have to worry about it-" "Jayce, you both work with MAGIC!" Reader points out. "You have somehow turned magic into a power supply. There is a whole rune dictionary, and thousands of untold combinations that might very well turn the right candidate into a worm."

Jayce is at a loss for words.

Viktor sits back against his pillow and returns his attention to his book, "I still stand by my earlier statement." Reader tsks and returns to their book to. "For the record, I'd build you both mud homes and take you everywhere with me. It wouldn't matter if you looked different, because you'd still be you deep down."

Jayce looks suddenly touched, and Viktor's hard expression softens a little.

"That is, surprisingly sweet, for such a weird conversation." The latter mutters, whilst Jayce leans in to land a firm kiss to Reader's forehead.

BONUS AND SPOILER FOR SEASON 2:

For some reason, Jayce dragged Reader down into the Hexgate basement before the final fight, getting them to help him pull out all the batteries from the core whilst shit goes down on the surface.

And of course, final form Viktor comes to find them in all his robed, mysterious glory.

Jayce and Viktor having a fun little back and forth.

Reader: looking at final form Viktor with wide eyes.

Reader: flushing under his intense golden gaze and ducking their head, fighting tooth and nail to keep from tucking their hair behind their ear like a school girl with a crush.

Final form Viktor: visibly amused, as he always was in the lab whenever he thought they were being stupid.

Jayce with horror in his voice as he follows Viktor's gaze to Reader: "No! Please tell me you're not thinking what I know you're thinking!"

Reader with visible guilt as they throw up both hands and motion to all of Viktor's tall, god-like glory: "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME? HE'S HOT, AND HE'S VIKTOR! AND I AM MERELY A MORTAL!"

Jayce: "He is trying to kill us!"

Reader: "So? He looks hot doing it!"

Jayce: "Just focus! Please?!"

Reader: "Then tell him to conceal his itty bitty waist. I cannot focus right now, Jayce!"

Viktor: tilting his head as an unnatural angle with fondness in his voice. "It is refreshing to find that you still find my form appealing, even after such unnatural change."

Jayce just watching on in dismay: ...

Reader turning on him: "I TOLD you I'd still love you both if you turned into worms."

Viktor snorts in the background, whilst Jayce goes through the five stages of grief. He settles on dismay and points his corrupted hammer at Viktor's new form: "THAT is some sort of Eldritch being. THAT is VERY different to a fucking WORM, Y/n!"