clementines-valt

[clementines-valt]

I have a prompt for you :3 Modern college AU, Reader is Viktor’s long term (3 years) gf. Viktor and Jayce are roommates. Unbeknownst to reader, Jayce has harbored a massive, horny, borderline obsessive crush on the reader, but reminds himself that she’s his best friend’s girlfriend and she’s off limits. After a particularly gnarly fight, and Reader goes to Jayce for comfort. Jayce’s dreams come true as one thing turns to another and the two finally fuck, even though Jayce knows it’s super wrong, he just can’t help himself.

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬

𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⇢ 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 (𝐦𝐝𝐧𝐢), 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫), 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫, 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

Jayce shouldn’t think about you like this.

He shouldn’t be thinking about you at all.

You were Viktor’s girlfriend. Three years strong, the kind of relationship people envied in college—built on wit, inside jokes, late-night library sessions, and that particular kind of intimacy that came with knowing someone’s every habit, every preference, every vulnerable little detail. You and Viktor had history. You were off-limits.

Jayce reminded himself of that every day.

And yet.

He’d met you when you first started dating Viktor, and for a while, you’d just been his best friend’s girl. He’d liked you, of course—who wouldn’t? You were smart, funny, charming. A little wicked when you wanted to be. You had an easy confidence that wasn’t loud but could cut through a room when you chose to wield it. He respected you. He’d been happy for Viktor.

But then he started seeing you.

The way your shirt would ride up when you stretched, exposing a slice of soft stomach, the curve of your back. The way you’d cross your legs in those tiny little shorts you wore around their apartment, not even thinking about how much thigh you were showing. The way you’d throw your head back when you laughed, exposing your throat, and something deep in Jayce’s brain would snarl, bite.

It had started slow. A thought here or there. She’s cute. She smells nice. Her voice is pretty. But then it grew. And grew. And now—

Now, Jayce was drowning in it.

It was unbearable, the way he wanted you.

He wanted you with the kind of reckless, hungry desperation that kept him up at night, his cock hard and aching under the sheets, one hand shoved over his mouth as he furiously fisted himself to the thought of you.

Because he’d seen enough to know what he was missing.

Viktor wasn’t shy about affection—not in front of Jayce, anyway. His hands were always on you. A palm on your lower back, fingers curling around your wrist, a possessive hand curling around your nape when he pulled you in for a kiss.

You were sweet when you kissed him. Jayce had seen it, had watched your lips part, the way your mouth opened up so easily under Viktor’s, the little sighs you made when he deepened the kiss.

And Jayce— Jayce hated himself for it, but he stared.

He watched the way your lips moved, the way your hands would slide into Viktor’s hair, nails dragging against his scalp. He watched Viktor slip a hand under the hem of your shirt when he thought Jayce wasn’t looking, fingertips tracing the bare skin of your waist. He watched Viktor tug you into his lap when you were sitting together on the couch, your body curling into him so effortlessly.

And he imagined.

He imagined you crawling into his lap instead. Imagined those fingers twisting into his hair, pulling him down for a kiss. He imagined you pressing up against his chest, all warm and soft, melting against him the way you melted against Viktor. He imagined sliding a hand between your thighs, slipping his fingers under the hem of those tiny fucking shorts, touching you—

Jayce swallowed, his jaw tight, his fists clenched on his knees.

He needed to get a grip.

But it was so fucking hard.

Especially when you were over all the damn time.

Like tonight.

You were curled up on Viktor’s bed, scrolling on your phone, while Viktor sat at his desk typing something up. Jayce was trying to focus on his own work, but you were right there. Your legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles. Your shirt slipping off your shoulder, exposing a teasing glimpse of bare skin.

And when you stretched, arching your back with a soft, contented little sigh—

Jayce had to physically look away.

Because if he didn’t, he’d be imagining how you’d sound stretching out under him, back arching as he pinned your wrists above your head, pressing his cock deep inside you. He’d be imagining the way your body would move against his, hips rolling, thighs trembling.

Would you whimper?

Would you moan?

Would you say his name?

Jayce inhaled sharply, forcing himself to focus on his laptop screen, but the damage was already done. His jeans were getting tight, and he couldn’t just sit here like this. Not with you so fucking close. Not when Viktor could look up at any second and see the way his best friend was fighting a hard-on over his girlfriend.

“Gonna grab a shower,” Jayce muttered, already getting to his feet.

He barely waited for a response before heading for the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. His hands were already at his belt, yanking it open, then his zipper, shoving his jeans down just enough to free his aching cock.

He was leaking, pre-cum smeared over his fingers as he wrapped a hand around himself, hissing through his teeth.

He shouldn’t be doing this. Not with you and Viktor in the other room.

But that only made it hotter.

Jayce squeezed his eyes shut, breath shuddering as he imagined you on your knees for him, looking up at him with those sweet, innocent eyes, your lips swollen and wet.

Would you tease him?

Drag your tongue over the head of his cock, tasting him, making him beg?

Or would you take him deep, all at once, moaning as he hit the back of your throat?

Fuck, fuck, fuck—

He bit his lip, his pace getting faster, his mind flooding with filth. The thought of bending you over, gripping your hips tight enough to bruise, watching his cock disappear into your wet, tight heat.

Would you take him like a good girl?

Would you cry for him, beg him for more?

Would you let him fuck you on Viktor’s bed, moaning into his pillow, soaking the sheets?

He was close. He was so fucking close—

“Jayce?”

Your voice. Right outside the bathroom door.

Jayce nearly choked on his own breath, barely swallowing down the groan threatening to escape his throat.

He couldn’t stop. Not now. His body was right there, coiled tight, ready to snap.

“Y-yeah?” His voice was hoarse, strained.

“You left your laptop open,” you said. “Want me to close it?”

Jayce barely heard you. His head was tipped back against the wall, his hand working himself furiously, desperate and needy and—

“Jayce?”

His whole body jerked, his free hand slamming against the shower wall to keep himself upright. Hot ropes of cum spilled over his fingers, his stomach, his breath coming in ragged, shuddering gasps.

Fuck, he was a mess.

“…Jayce?”

He barely managed to suck in a breath before responding, his voice rough, strained.

“Uh—yeah! Yeah, thanks—just, uh—just close it.”

A pause. Then, finally: “Okay.”

And then you were gone.

Jayce dropped his head back against the shower wall, chest heaving.

He was so fucking screwed.

⸻

Jayce had always known it would be you.

If he ever fucked up—if he ever did something truly unforgivable—it would be because of you.

Because he wasn’t strong enough to resist.

Because he wanted you too badly.

Because if you ever gave him even the slightest chance, the tiniest sliver of an opening, he knew—knew—he’d take it.

And tonight, you were in his bed.

Not like that. Not yet. But close. So close.

Your back was pressed against his chest, the curve of your spine fitting perfectly against him, your body curled up tight. His arm was draped loosely over your waist and you were holding onto him, gripping his forearm like you needed him.

Jayce’s heart was pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

You and Viktor had fought—one of your worst ones yet, judging by the way you’d stormed into Jayce’s room, tears already gathering in your eyes, voice shaking.

“He’s such an asshole sometimes,” you’d choked out, voice thick.

Jayce had never seen you like this. Sure, you and Viktor bickered, had your little disagreements. But this—this had been different. Your eyes were red-rimmed, your breath hitching like you were really about to cry.

And Jayce— he’d hated it.

Hated seeing you like this. Hated the idea that Viktor had made you feel this way.

So he’d done the only thing he could think of.

He’d pulled you into his arms.

He hadn’t even hesitated. He’d just reacted, gathering you up against his chest, tucking you beneath his chin. And the moment he felt you melt into him, your fingers fisting in the fabric of his shirt, your warm breath against his collarbone—

Jayce had been ruined.

You let him comfort you. You curled up against him like he was something safe, something you trusted. You buried your face against his neck, and your lips brushed his skin, soft and warm, and Jayce had to fight the full-body shiver that threatened to overtake him.

He wasn’t strong enough for this. He wasn’t strong enough for you.

Now, you were here, in his bed, tangled up with him, breathing slow and deep.

And Jayce—Jayce was barely hanging on.

Because he could feel you.

The warmth of you. The softness of your body, the way your back pressed into his chest, the curve of your ass nestled against his thigh. The little way you shifted against him, not even thinking about how you were pressing yourself closer, the way your fingers tightened around his arm when he moved, like you didn’t want him to go.

Jayce swallowed hard, his breath ragged.

This was wrong. This was so wrong. But you weren’t letting go. And neither was he.

Jayce sucked in a slow, shaky breath, forcing himself to be still. To be good. To be the friend you needed right now, and nothing more.

But then you shifted again, tilting your head back against his shoulder, blinking up at him with those soft, sad eyes.

“…Do you think he still loves me?” you whispered.

Jayce’s heart ached.

How could you even ask that? How could you not know?

He wasn’t Viktor, but if he were— if he had you, if you were his—he’d never let you doubt it for even a second.

“You don’t even have to ask that,” Jayce murmured, voice low, rough. “Of course he does.”

You hesitated. Looked away.

“But why does it feel like he doesn’t?”

Jayce felt something coil tight in his chest.

Because Viktor doesn’t deserve you, he wanted to say. Because he’s a fucking idiot for making you feel like this.

But instead, he just exhaled, shifting slightly, just enough to brush his lips over the crown of your head.

“…He’s just a dumbass sometimes,” he said, as gently as he could.

You huffed a soft, breathy little laugh, but it was shaky, still raw at the edges.

You turned in his arms.

Shifted so that you were facing him now, your forehead just inches from his, your breath warm against his lips.

You didn’t move away. Didn’t pull back.

Jayce could see everything. The way your eyes searched his, soft and unreadable. The way your lips parted, just slightly, like you were waiting.

Jayce’s whole body went still. Because he knew that look. And it had never been for him before.

His breath came sharp and fast, his heart hammering, his pulse a frantic, desperate thing in his throat.

“…Jayce.”

His name on your lips was so fucking dangerous.

Because you weren’t saying it like you usually did. You weren’t saying it like a friend. You were saying it soft, breathless, hesitant. Like something unspoken was hanging between you, thick and heavy.

Tell me to stop, Jayce thought, his hands trembling where they rested on your waist. Tell me you didn’t mean to get this close. Tell me you don’t want this.

But you didn’t. You just looked at him.

And that— That was what finally broke him.

Jayce kissed you. He didn’t even think. Didn’t hesitate. Just moved, closing the space between you, slanting his mouth over yours, catching that perfect, soft little gasp against his lips.

And you kissed him back.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him, pressing closer, your body molding against his like you fit there. Like you’d always belonged there.

Jayce groaned into your mouth, deep and desperate, his grip tightening around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

You were so warm. So soft.

And you weren’t stopping him.

You weren’t stopping any of it.

Jayce didn’t know if he should feel guilty.

Didn’t know if he should feel like the worst person on the fucking planet right now.

But all he could think about—

All he could focus on—

Was you.

Your mouth against his. Your body against his. The little, breathless sound you made when he dragged his teeth over your lower lip. The way your hands fisted in his shirt, like you needed this just as much as he did.

Like you wanted him.

Jayce knew— Knew— That he was never coming back from this.

⸻

Jayce knew he’d burn in hell for this, but if hell felt even a fraction as good as sinking into you did, then he’d gladly walk into the fire and beg for more.

You were beneath him, your cheek pressed into the mattress, hips tilted up to meet every slow, dragging thrust of his cock. His body caged yours, his chest molding to your back, one arm coiled tight around your throat, just enough pressure to make you shiver. You were spread out and helpless under him, pinned, trapped between his massive frame and the damp, twisted sheets of Viktor’s bed.

And he still didn’t know who he was apologizing to.

His forehead dropped against the back of your shoulder as he fucked into you, slow but deep, his hips rolling in a lazy, dragging rhythm that made you whimper into the pillow. He could feel every inch of you, every quiver of your walls, every tremble that ran through your body when he bottomed out, when he stretched you, splitting you open on his cock, ruining you for anyone else.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, lips dragging over your skin, mouthing at your shoulder, your nape, your jaw. He didn’t even know what he was saying sorry for anymore—fucking you like this? Making you take it like this? Or was it for Viktor, for stabbing him in the back, for stealing something that had never been his to claim? But then you made that sound, that soft, breathless moan that sent a bolt of heat straight through his gut, and he wasn’t sorry, wasn’t fucking sorry at all.

Jayce groaned, tightening his arm around your throat, pulling you closer, forcing you to feel the full weight of him as he drove into you. You gasped at the new angle, nails scrabbling at the sheets, he felt you clench around him, felt the way your body reacted to every shift, every press, every deliberate grind of his hips.

“You like this, don’t you?” he rasped against your ear, his voice wrecked, desperate. “You like getting fucked like this. Letting me have you. Letting me take you however I want.” His free hand traced down your spine, fingers splaying across your lower back before sliding lower, palming your ass, spreading you wider for him. He swore under his breath, feeling how wet you were, how easy it was to push back in, your body welcoming him, gripping him like you never wanted him to leave.

And Viktor—Viktor would never fuck you like this.

Jayce wasn’t even sure Viktor could.

The thought made something mean and possessive unfurl in his chest, something ugly and hungry and dripping with venom. His hand slid up, fingers tangling in your hair, wrenching your head back just enough to expose your throat, your gasping mouth, your fucked-out expression. His teeth scraped along the curve of your jaw, his lips ghosting over your ear as he let out a ragged chuckle.

“You ever think about this when you’re with him?” His voice was low, teasing, but there was something dark threaded through it, something raw. “Ever wish he’d put you on your stomach and fuck you stupid? Hold you down and make you take it?” He punctuated the words with a sharp thrust, making you cry out, your fingers twisting in the sheets.

But you didn’t tell him to stop.

You never told him to stop.

That was all the confirmation he needed.

Jayce growled, his grip on your throat tightening, not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you who had you like this, who was stretching you open, ruining you, making you moan and whimper into the pillow. “Bet he’s never made you this messy, has he?” He kissed the corner of your mouth, nipping at your lower lip. “Never made you this fucking wet.” His free hand slid down, fingers dipping between your thighs, finding the slick evidence of just how much you loved this, how much you needed this, how much you wanted him.

“Fuck,” he hissed, feeling you tremble under him. “Look at you. So desperate. So perfect. And all fucking mine right now.”

Because you were.

In this moment, you were his.

Viktor might have had your past, but Jayce was carving himself into your present, marking you with every deep, deliberate stroke of his cock, making sure you’d remember him long after this. Making sure you’d feel him tomorrow, aching and sensitive, your body still shaped around the memory of him.

Jayce groaned, his body shuddering, his arm flexing around your throat as he buried himself as deep as he could, his hips rolling, grinding, dragging out every last delicious little sound you had for him.

He could die like this.

Jayce barely had the presence of mind to bite back his groan as he drove into you again and again , slow and deep, his body flush against yours, his breath hot and ragged against your ear. You were so wet, so warm, clenching around him with every thrust, your soft little whimpers muffled against the pillow. His arm stayed firm around your throat, holding you exactly where he wanted you, keeping you spread out beneath him, trembling, needy.

“Mine.” The word was a growl, a broken confession, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he rocked into you, dragging it out, making sure you felt every inch of him. You shivered at the possessiveness in his voice, your fingers twisting in the sheets, another breathless little moan slipping from your lips. Fuck, you sounded so good.

A knock at the door. Jayce froze.

“Y/N?”

Viktor’s voice. Jayce’s stomach fucking dropped. His cock twitched inside you.

“Are you in there?” Viktor’s voice was quieter than usual, hesitant. “I… I want to talk.”

You stiffened under Jayce, your breath hitching, but he felt the way your cunt fluttered around him, like your body didn’t want him to stop, like the shock of it only made you squeeze him tighter.

And Jayce—he should pull out, should shove you away, should fix himself, should do anything but what he actually did.

Because instead— He tightened his arm around your throat and thrust back in.

[clementines-valt]

Mario Kart - AMAB! Venture

Pairing: amab! Sloan Cameron x fem! reader (reader has a pussy + uses fem pronouns)

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: frustrated at always losing to you in Mario Kart, Sloan comes up with an obstacle to give themselves a winning chance

CW: fem! reader, AMAB! Venture, mario kart 8 on wii u, cockwarming, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your wily), creampie, edging, teasing, some banter, multiple orgasms, kinda overstim if you squint

this is part of my Summer Suntacular event, come check it out!

for everyone who liked sex rocks & requested more ven smut that i've yet to do ^.^ i swear i'll get to your requests soon

“No way, you have to be cheating.”

You roll your eyes at Sloan’s accusation. “That, or you just suck.” 

Sloan drops the wiimote on the couch and rises to their feet, stretching their arms high above their head. Despite being inside in the air conditioning, sweat glistens on their neck and drips beneath their tight tank top. 

You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. You shift your gaze away from their golden, sweaty skin, and instead focus on the TV displaying your fourth consecutive Mario Kart win.

It’s a sweltering day outside, and though your original plan was to go to the beach, neither of you wanted to suffer the heat of the day and instead opted to stay in and play games. It had been Sloan’s idea to pull out their old Nintendo Wii and play Mario Kart, though judging by the annoyance on their face, you wouldn’t be surprised if they regretted it.

Sloan finishes stretching and slumps on the couch next to you. Their top rides up their stomach, showing the delicious stripe of skin between their cargo shorts and their tank. They grab their remote once more, the fresh scent of their deodorant wafting through the air.

“Fifth times a charm?” You tilt your head to the side.

“Why don’t we raise the stakes?”

“What do you propose?”

They smirk, and you’re immediately trepidatious. That specific toothy grin is never an indication of anything good—it's usually how you end up stealing from an artefact hoarder, or running from the police.

They run their hand up your thigh, the fabric of your shorts bunching up. “We need to give you an obstacle.” Their fingers trail dangerously high. “Something to impede your focus, make it a little harder for you to win. Put your skills to the test.”

Their sudden touch does nothing to sate the dryness in your mouth. You watch unblinking as their fingers get to the very top of your thigh, beginning to slide between your legs. Despite the heat, a shiver runs up your spine.

Then they pull away, shifting the fabric of their own shorts away from the growing bulge in their pants. “Or something like that,” they add sweetly.

You nearly get whiplash from how fast their tone changed from sexy seductive to classic Sloan. You take a deep breath, managing to stutter out, “w–what do you want me to do?”

They pop open the top button of their shorts, then the second, then the third. Heat courses through your veins as you watch them slowly drag their shorts down to their ankles, leaving them in just their pink heart boxers. The sweet illusion of their cute underwear is immediately shattered by the outline of their hard cock beneath them.

You swallow at the sight. “Sloan?” You ask.

They reach out and grab your Wiimote from your hand, discarding it on the couch next to them. Calloused fingers grab your wrist, guiding your palm to rub their length. You gasp in unison at the contact, at the feeling of their hard cock throbbing beneath their boxers.

They leave your hand there, dipping their own palm between your legs to cup your pussy. They’ve barely touched you but you’re already soaked. Their eyes meet yours, a mischievous glimmer telling you that they can feel how badly you want them.

Sloan’s smirk returns. “Why don’t you sit on my cock while we play? Keep it nice and warm?”

The heat pumping through you grows nearly unbearable, your panties undoubtedly ruined by their words and the soft stroke of their fingers on your clothed clit. To have them inside of you while you play is almost a guaranteed loss, but their cock is so hard and your pussy aches to have them inside of you.

You sigh, “alright. But this doesn’t go on my Mario Kart record.”

They let out a breathy laugh at your antics before pulling their fingers away from your throbbing heat. Glistening fingers meet their soft lips, their eyes lighting up at the sweet taste of your slick. 

“Fuck,” they laugh. “If I win this round, I’m eating you out as my prize.”

The air leaves your lungs at their brazen comments. You’re so used to your awkward, nerdy partner that it always leaves your head spinning when they show their dominant side. 

Sloan hooks their fingers in the waistband of their boxes and pulls them down painfully slow. Their hard cock springs free, slapping them in the tummy and smearing shiny precum across their sweaty abs. 

They wiggle closer to the centre of the couch, patting their thighs. “Hop on, cowgirl.”

A breathy giggle escapes you at their stupid antics. You rise to your feet on shaky legs. Your pussy drools into your panties, practically begging for their big cock to fill you up. 

You’re much quicker than them to discard your bottoms, letting them fall forgotten on the floor. Sloan’s gaze stays locked on you while you strip, a low moan coming from them when you reveal your shimmering cunt. 

You slowly walk backwards, bracing your hands on the meat of their thighs as you let yourself sink down onto their lap. The tip of their cock brushes your entrance and you wrap your hand around it to help guide it in. 

It’s a bit of a stretch, walking that delicate line between pain and pleasure as it sinks inside of you. Your walls struggle to take them in, your thighs quivering with the strain. Sloan grabs your hips, digging their fingertips into your skin to help you down. 

You take them inch after inch, giving yourself only a few seconds between each length of their cock to adjust. It’s nearly a minute later that you can feel the soft skin of their thighs beneath yours and the tip of their cock brushing deep inside you. 

Sloan relaxes into the couch, slouching lazily. They grab their Wiimote and reach around your waist, pressing select on the main menu screen. Your hands are shaking when you reach for your own remote, every little move you make forcing their cock deeper inside of you. 

Yeah, you’re definitely going to lose. 

Sloan’s hot breath tickles the side of your neck, but that’s the only indication that this affects them as much as it does you. Your walls flutter around their cock while you try to pick the character, the shockwaves it sends to your brain making it near impossible to make a decision.

Sloan’s wrist presses into your stomach as they move to select Link, the sudden pressure eliciting a gasp out of you. Their cock feels so much deeper with their hand pressed against your belly, forcing you to feel how big they really are.

By the time the countdown for the first race begins, your mind is nearly blank with pleasure. It takes everything you have to remember which button does what, and even that is a struggle. 

Sloan shifts behind you, sitting up straighter just as the countdown finishes. The sudden movement leaves you breathless, the knot in your stomach threatening to come undone. Your hand leaves the remote for only a second to brace yourself, but that very second costs you the boost at the start of the race.

“Losing already?” Sloan taunts.

Your voice is unusually breathy as you say, “you wish.”

You clench down on them as much as you can, partly to throw them off, partly to ground yourself while you play. Sloan grunts and rocks their hips into yours once more, but the distraction is futile as you catch up. The third lap begins, and it really looks like you’re going to win.

Just as you round the last corner to the finish line, Sloan presses into your tummy once more, rolling their hips up into yours. The head of their cock presses into your sensitive, gummy walls, and you have no chance to catch your breath before your orgasm rolls over you. White hot pleasure radiates through your veins, your whole body convulsing as you cum around their cock.

The world around you fades away, the only sensations that stay with you are the bulge of their cock in your tummy and your thumb on the gas button. Sloan takes advantage of your situation, passing you at the last possible second to come in first.

They laugh triumphantly. “Looks like you came in second.”

You roll your teary eyes, though the pleasure of your orgasm is too intense for you to care much for their taunting. You sit up straight, trying to shift the angle of their cock inside of you away from your g-spot. 

The start of the second race goes about as well as the first, though your mind is left even fuzzier from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Sloan doesn’t taunt you as much this round, though every time you get close to passing them, they rock their hips into yours in warning. You don’t push them and begrudgingly take second place again.

Sloan pauses as soon as the second race is over, flopping back on the couch to catch their breath. They don’t know how they’ve managed to keep their cool for this long, but they know they won’t be able to last with your tight cunt clenching their cock so well.

“What’s wrong, Sloan?”  You ask innocently. “Can’t handle the heat?”

“Shut up.” They buck their hips, their cockhead hitting your cervix.

All the breath leaves your body and that’s when Sloan presses play on the next race. Somehow, you manage to get your bearings and take the lead almost immediately. Sloan curses over your shoulder—they know once you get into the groove, it’s nearly impossible to catch up to you.

You wiggle your hips away from theirs, leaning forward to see the tv better. You dig your thumb into the gas button and hope to god your headstart will be enough. Sloan tries to throw you off by grinding their cock into you once more, but it’s too late. 

Tremors sweep through your body, your fingers seem to vibrate against the sweat soaked remote. The back of your shirt sticks to your skin, doing little to relieve the fever radiating from your core. You’re panting, but each sharp inhale only forces you to clench harder on Sloan’s cock.

Their nails dig into your hip but the expected pain is a faraway melody. You pinch your temples in a poor attempt to force yourself back to reality, to force some of the buzzing out of your ears—but it doesn’t work.

Sloan thumbs gentle circles across your clit. “If you give up now, I’ll only brag a little.”

Liar. You’ll never hear the end of it if they win, but they’ll probably have a billboard made up if you concede. You can practically see the sign now: Y/n lost at Mario Kart because they couldn’t handle my fat cock.

No, that simply won’t do.

“No,” you repeat, “We’re going to tie.”

Sloan seems shocked by your determination, and by the twitch of their cock inside of you, a little turned on too. As they click on the final race and the camera begins to pan over the track, you slowly bounce on their cock. Gentle, miniscule bounces—not enough to drive forth your impending orgasm, but enough to sate your need to clamp down on them and never let go.

By the time the race starts, you’ve managed to soothe some of the graininess in your mind. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes but you keep your focus razor sharp. You cannot lose this race, no matter what.

You manage to take the lead right off the bat, but Sloan is hot on your tail. You can feel them clench their jaw in frustration behind you. Their face is so close to yours that the sound of their teeth grinding is near deafening. Still, you manage to ignore their chattering teeth and grinding hips and focus on the game ahead.

The second lap passes, and Sloan starts to slip. They ache to drive their cock inside of you, to bend you over this very couch and fuck the arrogance out of you. They thought this challenge would give them an advantage but they hadn’t thought of how hard it would be to concentrate with your pussy clenching down and dripping all over them.

As soon as the third lap hits, Sloan knows there’s not a chance in hell they’ll win. You’re too far ahead, and unless you stop pressing the gas entirely, your victory is assured. And then, a lightbulb.

Sloan slides forward at the same time they drive their hands into your lower tummy. They can feel all of your walls squeezing them now, their cock threatening to spill at any moment. It feels so good—but not as good as beating you will.

Sloan keeps scooching forward until they’re at the very edge of the couch and the only thing keeping you from falling is their cock and slick covered thighs. They take that as an opportunity to tighten their grip.

You cry out. “Sloan, w–what are you doing?”

They chuckle at your confusion, risking a glance at your screen. You’re starting to slip up, all you need is a little push. 

You start to round the last corner until the finish line, you’re so close you can hear the victory sound ahead. You press into the gas harder, victory is nigh, and then Sloan thrusts hard enough to send you toppling over the front of the couch.

You drop your remote to brace your hands against the floor, leaving you bent perfectly in front of them. Your pussy stays connected to their cock, giving them a deeper, fresh angle to keep pummeling into you. Sloan doesn’t slow their assault on your pussy as your hands scramble to find the remote you just dropped.

But it’s too late. You hear the telltale whistle of the finish line, and you don’t have to look to know that they’ve won. You have no time to bask in your disappointment, though. Not while Sloan is pistoning into your cunt like it’s the last time they’ll ever feel it. And with the stunt they just pulled, it might be.

They drop their remote on the couch and clench your hips tightly, using them as momentum to drive their cock forward. With you hanging off of them like this, it makes it even easier to shove their entire length inside.

Each thrust is deeper, needier, sloppier than the last. Every shift of their hips into yours sends electricity shooting through your tummy, threatening to unravel you. You curl your fingers, scratching at the floor for anything solid, anything to ground you. 

“Sloan,” you plead, though you’re not sure what you’re even asking for. “Sloan, I—”

“Fuck, I know.” They groan. Their voice is husky with need, desperation clinging to them the way it’s clung to you. “You’re so goddamn tight, So perfect to fuck my cum into.”

Their words are all it takes to send you over the edge. You convulse, each jerk of your muscles radiating warm pleasure. Your body goes limp, your face pressing against the ground, but you don’t care. You’re cumming and clenching and you’re somewhere far, far away. Somewhere where the only things in the world are your villainous, needy pussy and Sloan’s fat, hero cock.

Sloan keeps using you while you come, taking complete advantage of the hot slick spilling out of you and your tight, clenching walls. Their cock is so sensitive, so needy, they won’t last much longer—not while you’re gasping and crying out for them so pretty.

They slam their hips into yours once more, forcing their cock as deep as possible, and then they come undone. White hot ropes of cum splatter your walls, stuffing your cunt to the brim with their heat. They keep their grip around you tight, keeping you connected until they’ve spilled every last drop.

Sloan gives themself a minute to catch their breath before hoisting you back on the couch, their dick still tucked inside of you. You look up at them through tear-lined lashes and offer them a stupid, fucked out smile.

Sloan strokes your hot, sweaty cheeks and returns your smile. “I think it’s safe to say I’m the new Mario Kart champion.”

Summer Suntacular | Masterlist | Overwatch Masterlist

(if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are always greatly appreciated ^-^ !!)

[clementines-valt]

I love hate this man

Can you do that for me?

Pairings: ruined!Jayce x f!reader

NSFW/MDNI

Masterlist

Summary: Formerly partners, you've started a new business in Zaun after Jayce's disappearance. One day, after hearing whispers of Victor's apparent evolution, Jayce shows up unannounced.

Wordcount: 4.2 k

Warnings: Some canon stuff (beware spoilers), pinv sex, angst, fluff, fingering, slight handjob, choking, biting, creampie, doggy, missionary, cowgirl (a lot of positions), sub/dom/switch!Jayce, power struggle, fight for dominance, praise (f and m recieving), spanking, overstimulation, "I love you", difficult feelings, hot depraved Jayce.

AN: Not proofread, I intend to make a few changes to it later but wanted to get it out. Might be spelling mistakes. I tried to fit a bit of everything into this. ENJOY GIRLIES🎀

Having pulled the curtains aside, a vigilant man inspects the dark streets below. "He's almost here, ma'am," the man says, eyes following the subject. There's a slight stiffnes to his stance, as if he's readying himself for a fight. "What do you want us to do?"

"Let him in," she smiles at him faintly, attempting to reassure the large man before returning to her paperwork. "Dont give him trouble, there's nothing to fear."

The guard nods slowly and crosses the room to leave, he knows she's right. Yet, he stays in the doorway, shoulders slumped and arms crossed.

Warm light creeps in through the entryway, contrasting the faint light that Zauns streetlights provide for her otherwise gloomy office.

Noticing how the strong wash of light remains, she looks up at her guard to find another question lingering on his lips. "I've know you long enough to tell when something ails you." She leans back in her chair.

He catches her gaze reluctantly, facing away before he speaks. The man clears his throat, he knows he's crossing a line. "He's trouble, if you ask me. The boys and I-"

The woman pulls her glasses of and sighs, done with her work for the evening. "Im a big girl, I can handle myself."

The guard leans against the doorway and shrugs in reluctant recognition. "We're worried for you, ma'am-" but catching himself on his words, his hands gesture to remedy his meaning. "Respectfully, of course," he ads quickly, aversed to insult his employer.

The woman stands slowly, walking around her crammed desk to casually prop herself next to him. "I know," she reassures, placing a soft hand on his chest. "But I'll be fine, send him in."

The large man huffs. "We'll be outside then," he begins, but as the next words begin to form on his tongue, he decides against it, solely out of trust for his employer. If he could, he would've added 'when you need us'.

She doesnt doubt it, nor does she take offence. They're a tight knit family down here, she cares for them as much as they do her. But this would be an interaction no family member should hear. "That won't be necessary, keep to the foyer . . . Now go," she hurries him, careful to keep an understanding smile on her lips lest he changes his mind.

With a heavy breath and one last glance, the guard reluctantly closes the door and heavy footsteps recede.

She sighs, moving to brace her hands against the desktop and preparing herself for whats to come, for what she suspects.

She lights the lantern on her desk and waits. Only a moment later the same warm light creeps into the room. She twitches, unprepared for his arrival inspite of her efforts as the squeaking door slices through the eerily silent space.

In her peripheral, a fallen man stands. He's tired and dirty. Cut up and run down. There's a moment of contemplation between her and the newcomer, she does not move and neither does he. It's been a long time.

Squeak, thump, click . . . Pause. He's locked the door. A heavy thud between metal and wood sounds next, there's a faint sound of coarse skin sliding along fine metal before the familiar vibrations of hextech dies out.

All that exists between them now is heavy breathing in two parts, laboring against their own minds and bodies.

The floorboards begin to creek, irregularly, as if the weight placed upon them has not yet decided it's course of action. She grips the desktop harder, fingernails burrying into fine wood. She can only guess why he has come. "It's Viktor, isn't it?" She breathes, trying hard to keep her voice steady.

She gets no response, the only answer she recieves is the creeking of floorboards as the uncertain weight shifts back and forth. But that is all the answer she needs.

Having seamingly made up his mind, determined footsteps approach her in a sudden haste. Srong arms wrap around her body, pulling her toward a hard chest in a tight, tight embrace. His head collides with her shoulderblade as he burries his face in her scent. Muffled by her body, strained breaths blow welcome warmth onto her skin.

"What's happened?" She whispers, not entirely sure she wants the answer for she can smell him now. Metal and gunpowder. But it's not the type raw metal used for smithing or creating, it's not the metal she's used to. No, this is pungent, corporeal. It's blood. "Jayce, please . . . " She begins, 'talk to me' her lips shape, but no sound comes out. Unable to muster the strength.

"Cant- I cant . . . talk about it. Not now, not yet," he manages, voice rough as if he has fought and damp breath raising goosebumps on her neck. "I just . . . Needed you. I need you."

A strong hand slides higher, knuckles intently brushing the underside of her breast. "Can't think anymore."

And inspite of her better judgement. "Ok," she agrees, whispering, as if her consience wouldnt be able to hear. She's missed him, worried for him. So, her body betrays her.

Laying her hand on top of his, she guides him over the hill of her breast.

His breath hitches while his other hand move downward, tracing her ribs, down her waist, stopping on her thigh and squeezing tenderly. Soft flesh dimpling beneath the force of strong fingers. "I've been lost, " his voice breaks. "Missed you." His hands slide further down to slither under the slit in her dress.

"No feelings right now, Jayce . . . Please, just-"

Two fingers slip inside of her and she gasps. "No feelings," he assures, placing a gentle kiss on her neck.

"Good, good . . . " she moans.

While massaging her breast his thumb finds her clit and tongue her neck, gently nipping and sucking on the crook of her neck. Her body grows to weak to hold itself upright so she puts her weight on her arms. Noticing, he holds her tighter and pushes her weight against the desk. "Already?" He whispers, dragging his teeth along the shell of her ear as his fingers steadily thrusts in and out of her. "You're making it too easy for me."

A breathless chuckle leaves her, crammed between heavy groans. "You work with your hands . . . Mmmh, unfair advantage."

He bites her earlobe, tugging, teasing. "So do you, if I remember correctly." A grin twists her lips as her hand reaches between them and palms his enlarged bulge. He hisses as she begins to stroke it, heat immedietly surfacing as the friction between fabric and skin grows. "Mhhg, that's what I thought," he groans. "Good girl."

He pushes a third finger inside off her, curling them at just the right angle.

"Fuck!" Her free hand curls into a fist, joints having nothing better to do than occupy themselves in anyway they can. He puts more focus on her clit, rubbing dutyful circles into and and finally pushes her over the edge. "Mhh, shit-"

His fingers slow down as she hits her high, gently leading her through it as he supports her weight. "Just breathe, that's right . . . "

Her breathing has become a mixture of moans and wheezes, the pleasure stimulating every nerve in her body. "Did you . . . ?" She asks, suddenly remember her hand on his clothed member.

"No," he whispers and kisses her temple. "Theres time." He tries to turn her around. But fear grips her. "No-" she stops him, gripping the edge of the desk to keep herself in place. Seeing the changes up close would make them real, would make whatever he has come from, real. "I can't look at you . . . not yet." She reaches over her shoulder to cup his jaw, and just like that, their bubble of reminiscence bursts. They arent colleagues anymore and havent been for a long time. Nor is their third party longer there to rationalise with them. A shrap jab strikes her heart. "Give me time, and just," her other hand reaches behind her, grabbing the fabric on his hip to pull him closer, pressing his erection against the curve of her ass. "Like this for now, Jayce. Please . . ."

His head lulls against her back, pushing his forehead firmly into her spine whilst releasing a big, shaky breath. She can feel him bare his teeth, silently working through the consequences of his actions.

He doesn't answer, he only obeys.

It goes silent for a short moment, until the warmth on her hips disappear and the metal clanging of a belt buckle sounds behind her.

Quickly, one hand returns to her thigh to pull her dress over her ass.

"Dont hold back," she says.

There's a pause in his movements. "Are you certain?"

She nods and he wastes no time. Pushing himself against her, his knees spread her legs efficiently, just liked they've practiced many times before. With mo further warning, he sinks into her. One hand crossing over her waist as the other grabs her shoulder, then sets a ruthless pace.

Somehow she knows he needs to get this out of him, the pent of fury and need. But she doesnt complain, he always knew what he was doing.

The sound of slapping fills her office, while the lewd squelching from her previous orgasm further spurs them on. He bends over her, changing his grip. Fingers snaking around her throat as his knee and free hand work together to fish one of her legs onto the desk, hitting her deeper, harder. His thrusts are no longer about speed, but of that one special little spot.

He puts pressure on her throat, almost painstakingly so. But it feels heavenly and she wouldn't have it any other way.

With each rut, his members perfectly fills her. His face is next to hers and he kisses had bites around her neck and ear, making sure she knows how good he makes her fell by grunting and moaning right into her ear. It makes that pulsing in her core worse, and he seems to notice.

"Yeah, you like that?" He groans, kissing her soft skin right behind the ear.

"Mmmhmm," she hums, voice vibrating with the bumping of their bodies. Doing her best to keep silent, afraid that one of her guards suddenly decides to check up on her.

"Let me hear you, use your words," he breathes, flexing the fingers around her throat and biting her shoulder.

"Fuck-" her knuckles and nails take turns in destroying her desk, scratching and denting the expensive wood grain. "I like making you, mmh . . . feel good." She manages, words stuttering between thrusts.

He gently pulls on her ear with his teeth. "Good," he whispers, then releases her throat and places his hand on the back of her neck, pushing her against the desktop.

Slap. His hands comes down on her ass, then gripping the plump flesh hard to lessen some of the stinging. A jolt of electricity shoots through her and her insides clench arouns him.

Jayce whimpers from the sudden, godlike pleasure. "Wanna hear you, honey, don't be shy." His hand comes down again, harder this time.

She squeezes around him, nerves on fire as she feels her second climax building up inside her. She moans as tears run down her face, happy pleasurable tears only Jayce has been able to produce.

"That's it . . ." He slaps her ass a third time, and the wall inside her core crumbles. With a whimper, she comes. "You did so good, lovely, im almost there," he assures her. Tears stream down her face as his thrusts grow irregular, but continues to pleasure her body. "Fuck," she cries, squirming from the drawl iut orgasm. One hand holds her steady at the hip while the other slides up her back, rubbing her tender body until he brushes away stray hair from her profile.

"Hold on a little longer, just breathe, baby," he comforts her, such a stark contrast to the rough thrusts he's been dealing her body. Her fingers are jittery from the overstimulation, they aached to touch him, pull his hair, anything. But she cannot reach, so she presses her palms against the table to keep them occupied.

As he sees her tear streaked face, one last blow lands on her ass and he too, comes. He collapses on top of her, they attempt to regain their strength as their sweaty bodies lie flush against eachother.

After a few moments of breathing heavily together, Jayce wraps an arm around her torso and splays his hand over her rips, pulling her with him as he straightens out.

Taking a deep breath, she closes her eyes and turns around. Hands finding his face, guiding her lips to his.

"Please look at me, my beautiful girl. Look at me," he pleads, murmuring the words against her lips.

She opens her eyes and his breath hitches. Yellow, brown irises meet her won. They're the exact same ones she knew not too long ago. Except . . . Haunted.

His fingers brush along her cheek, jaw and down her throat. She winces at the soft touch and his brows furrow in confusion.

Capturing her chin, he tilts her head back.

"It's fine, I'm fine," she whispers, assuring him as she sees his expression. Pure shock animates them.

"I don't-" his fingers trace the red marks running around her throat and tears begin to form in the corners of his eyes. "Im so sorry." He falls to his knees, hands resting against her chins as he hides his face between them. "I don't know-" he chokes and kisses her legs with remorse. He pecks her delicately, trailing his lips over her knees and up her thighs, hands following behind, tracing the outside of her legs until they reach her waist and encircle her. He hugs her tightly, knees sore against the hard wood. "Im not right," he breathes, head lulling into her lap. She can feel wetness coating her skin, running between her thighs.

She exhales heavily and slides down the desk until the hard wooden floor welcomes her thighs.

They stay like this for a good long while, she's in no rush and neither is he. Over and over again, her fingers comb through his overgrown and unpreened hair while the sensation of his seed drips out of her. Sharp nails gently scratch at the nape of his neck, they trace his bonestructure and play with its halls and valleys. The back of her fingers caress the length of his nose and sharpness of his cheekbone.

All the while Jayce lays wordless, occasionally squeezing her thighs, her hips. Occasionally trailing featherlight touches along her legs, watching with wonder how goosebumps rise and fall.

She chuckles beneath her breath. It's the same expression he used to get when making progress in the lap, just like when they first cracked the hextech runes. "Jayce," she says, attempting to grab his attention.

Crouching beneath her, he looks up from her lap, chin resting on the softness of her flesh. His face glistens and eyes plead. He looks at her with fatigue, wordlessly asking for her forgiveness.

"What happened?" She asks, her voice soft but words demanding. She's not getting dersuled this time, she needs answers.

He shakes his head, reluctantly drawing his lips into a thin line as he breaks away from her gaze.

Her eyebrows twist together. "What have you done?" She asks, anger laces her tone now. But he closes his eyes, the corners of his eyes gleaming again. The fingers burried in his hair curl into a fist and she pulls his head back, forcing him look at her. "What. Have. You. Done?"

His eyes shift between hers, uncertain, unwilling. "He's gone . . . " He begins. "I had to, I had to–the hexcore, it was poisoning him, spreading like a disease." His voice is coarse. "I had to stop him, there was no other choice."

Her eyes grow. Viktor . . . Gone? She could only assume when Jayce suddenly pays her a visit, but never dared believe.

"I never ment to leave you," he says, hand reaching out to grab her waist. "You have to believe me." He rouches the fabric at the waist, white knuckling it out of desperation for an ounce of u derstanding. "Hextech isnt what we thought it was, not anymore. Viktor couldnt see it, he was infecting the undercity, it would've spread to Piltover, the rest of the world if I didn't stop him."

She shakes her head in disbelief. "But he was saving them, freeing them of shimmer."

"No . . . they weren't themselves anymore. I've been away, lost. I've seen–" She waits for him to continue, but he doesn't. "The hexcore mutates them, changes them. I had to stop him. It, the core."

Her eyes drift the Jayce's hammer posted by the door. "Like your hammer?" She studies the now misshapen weapon, once crafted with obsessive precision. Her eyes drift lower along the neck and over its face, blood splatter.

She looks away, closing her eyes to recollect herself. Remembering to strongly the smell of blood Jayce had arrived with.

"Yes," he says. "Like I did." His hand reaches up to loosely cup her face. She notices how the crystal from his old bracelet has fused with his skin. Her fingers run along his arm and slides along the crystal, feeling it, inspecting it. "I didn't chose this," he murmurs. "I didn't chose to leave you . . . I love you." His hand falls back to his side.

She's taken aback. Its not something they've said before, not while still partners, not before all of, this . . . But despite herself, she believes him. They were colleagues for a long time and affection had always kept them together. He wouldn't hurt Viktor without reason.

With hooded eyes and parted lips, he studies her, waiting for her judgement.

"You had to," she nods, seamingly decided.

Relief and disappointment floods his face all at once. He'd expected an 'I love you' back.

She leans in, kissing him for the first time since he disappeared. Finally reunited. "We'll get through this, ok?" her voice is uncertain, what's happened has not been fully processed.

"Ok," he agrees and straightens his back, carefully placing small kisses along her abdomen as he does so, afraid he'll scare her away. "I've missed you so damn much." He levels his head with hers, meeting her gaze head on.

"I've missed you too," she responds. "But I need you now, Jayce. Can you do that for me?" She places a soft kiss on his lips.

"Certainly," he murmurs against them.

She stands, slinding his hand into hers and leads him to the bed. With his back to the bed, she places her hands on his chest and pushes him into sitting at the edge of the bed.

One leg over the other, she straddles him, standing on her knees so he has to look up at her. His she brushes the hair away from his eyes and lowers her lips to ghost over his. Their scared and quivering, needy to be on hers.

His hands slide up her sides and curves around her back, coming to rest in the arch above her ass. Gently, he massages circles into her skin, tickling her intentionaly.

She squirms beneath his touch, luring a satisfied grin from him. "You look good like this." Her fingers run through his beard, tracing his new scars. "Dangerous." Reaching down between them and into his pants, she pulls Jayce's member free and lowers herself just enough to tease his tip.

With a hiss, he locks his thumb over her hipbones and wanting to guide her onto him.

She shakes her head, a smirk playing in the corner of her lips. "My turn," she whispers and pull the straps of her dress down, letting it gather at her hips. Jayce's eyes immeidetly fall as his hands slide up her ribs with a specific destination in mind. "Dont touch," she warns. "Now look at me, Jayce." Her chest is inches from his face, but unallowed to look and unable to touch, his eyes appear like that of a wounded stag.

Her nimble fingers work on the buttons of his shirt and quickly slides it off of his shoulders. "Ive missed this," she purs, dragging a finger down his torso, her nail leaving a white scratched up mark behind it. "But this is new," she refers to the chest hair she's never seen before. "I like that, too." Her lips meet his jaw as she leaves kisses all the way down to his collarbone and shoulder. Her continues down his abdomen and below his v-line, then there's a sharp intake of breath as she stokes his member, circling the leaking pre-cum around his tip.

"Devil woman," he groans, but there's a twisted smile to his lips.

She returns it and takes a step back, letting the dress fall completely as if wanting to prove his point and oh, how she revels in the desperation on his face.

Her gaze fixes on his hands, clenching and unclencing in his lap, knuckles white from the strain. She bites her lip. "You look good like this," she repeats. "All, fallen apart . . . " She steps closer, placing herself between his legs. "Bloody and broken."

Never has he taken his eyes off of hers, and as she lowers herself onto his lap once more, she finds his member and lines him up. And finally, she sinks onto his thick inches. Still, he does not touch her. There is only a desperate whimper leaving his lips at the much needed pressure. Obedient, or respcetful? Either way, he deserves his praise. "Good boy. Now, touch me," she whispers and topple them over.

He twitches inside her at the words, but before she can react he's upon her. Fitting one breast into his mouth and the other in his hand, he licks and spits and squeezes. Sucking the entierty of her tender, plush flesh into his mouth.

"Ooh," she braces herself, strings of pleasure and heavy breaths return to them. "You liked that didn't you, pretty boy?" All she gets in response is humming between the lewd, obscene slurping.

Alright, then. Putting a hand on his chest for support, she begins to move, rocking back and forth just watching his expression of pleased torture.

Moving his hands to her hips, lips tear free from her breast for some much needed air, only to replace them upon her lips and kiss her with fervour.

She sits up, getting a better vantage and he follows not long thereafter. Unable to sit by and let her do the work. Leaning back on one hand and wrapping the other around her back, he helps her rut against him while he can't softly thrust up to meet her. "Fuck me- Jayce . . . " She gasps, hardly able to get enough air to moan.

He grins against her lips, sharing their breaths. "You liked that didn't you, pretty girl?" He mocks her.

She laughs breathlessly and digs her nails into his biceps. "Naughty," she murmurs and bites his lip, drawing blood. Again, she feels his member twitch amidst all the rocking between them. Their eyes meet and share a knowing glance. She cocks an eyebrow, he blushes. "That's what I thought," she smirks. It's her win, for now.

Unable to let it slide, Jayce takes the reigns. Flipping them over, he pins her beneath him without missing a single thrust. Amidst the confusion, he interlocks their fingers and pulls her arms above her head, stretching her out and limiting her movement.

She squirms against his restrains, testing the limits but he's rock solid. With her legs around his waist, he thrust perfectly into her and she cant help but roll her hips. She can feel the knot tightening in her core and she furrows her brows with displeasure. Missionary always did her in, he'll win. "Unfair," she moans, throwing her head back as waves of pleasure wash over her with every movement of his hips.

He moves one pair of their locked hands down so ha can stroke her throat with his thumb, placing soft kisses on the damage he caused.

His tenderness alone could cause her to crumble. "Put your back into it at least," she whines, realising she only had her pettiness left. Being beneath him, in his control feels way better than any win she could earn.

A breathless chuckle leaves him. "Yes, ma'am," he grunts, releases her and pulls out before he hooks her legs over his shoulders and thrusts back in. Hands finally free, she cups his face and pulls him in for a kiss concealing the cries bubbling up in her throat. For as it stands, he moves expertly and he's deeper–better than any man ever has been. "Fuck me-"

He smirks. "Tell me I'm good, again . . . " Shes uncertain if this is his ego talking or- "Please, please tell me im good," he whimpers, kissing her inbetween every word.

Without warning her third orgasm washes over her, back arching and nails digging into Jayce's cheeks. "You're so good to me," she sobs. "Such a good boy."

His thrusts falter and then he too, comes. Filling her with his seed, once again.

With shaking limbs he falls to her side, one arm draped over her chest. Both breathing heavily as they regain their senses.

"You win," ge admits and kisses her temple.

Yes she does. "I love you, too," she smiles, heart and teeth achingly sweet.

[clementines-valt]

𝓖olden 𝓗our 𝓒onfessions ₊˚⊹♡

fem!reader x viktor

𝓻𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽; none

word count; 1k

context; established relationship, reader is a member of the council

cw; nothing

The Piltover skyline stretched before you, golden sunlight spilling across the rooftops and casting intricate shadows over the pristine streets below. From the balcony of Viktor’s lab, the city seemed peaceful—like a vast, living machine ticking in perfect harmony. You rested your elbows on the rail, lost in the view, until the rhythmic sound of Viktor’s cane pulled you from your thoughts.

“Admiring your handiwork again?” His voice carried a light teasing lilt as he approached.

Turning, you smiled at him. “I wouldn’t call it just my handiwork. Piltover’s skyline is a testament to everyone’s work.”

He stepped closer, his golden eyes warm as they swept over you. “Modesty doesn’t suit you, my love. You’ve designed half the buildings in this city. You deserve to be proud.”

You chuckled, brushing a hand against his arm. “And you’re not biased at all, are you?”

He tilted his head, lips curling into a sly smile. “Of course not. I simply state the facts.”

Your heart swelled at the easy affection between you. Even after years together, Viktor’s ability to make you feel seen—truly seen—was one of the many reasons you loved him.

“How’s the project coming along?” you asked, nodding toward his workbench cluttered with blueprints, tools, and glowing crystals.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Slower than I’d like. The council’s restrictions make progress… difficult.”

You frowned, stepping closer and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I know they can be frustrating, but their caution is meant to protect Piltover. You’ve already proven Hextech’s potential—now it’s about ensuring it’s safe.”

His eyes softened, the tension in his frame easing under your touch. “I suppose I should be grateful they’ve kept someone as level-headed as you on the council. It certainly makes my life easier.”

“And here I thought you enjoyed the challenge,” you teased.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “You know me too well.”

You moved toward his workbench, fingers trailing over the edge of a blueprint. The intricate designs sprawled across the page reminded you of your own architectural sketches, though Viktor’s carried the unmistakable flair of someone who thought not just of functionality, but of innovation.

“Sometimes I think your work is more beautiful than mine,” you admitted.

Viktor’s brow furrowed as he limped to your side. “Nonsense. Your buildings shape the city itself. Mine are merely tools.”

“Tools that could reshape the future,” you countered, meeting his gaze. “You inspire people, Viktor. Even when they don’t understand your vision, they know it’s extraordinary.”

A faint blush crept into his pale cheeks, and he ducked his head with a small smile. “It’s easy to believe that when it comes from you.”

You reached out, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “I’ve always believed in you. Even when you don’t believe in yourself.”

His hand found yours, fingers threading through yours as he brought it to his lips. The gesture was tender, a quiet moment of vulnerability between two people who spent most of their lives fighting for what they believed in.

“You have a way of grounding me,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Good,” you replied, leaning closer. “Because you have a way of making me dream bigger than I ever thought I could.”

For a moment, the lab fell silent, save for the soft hum of machinery. Viktor’s gaze held yours, his expression open in a way he rarely allowed anyone else to see.

“I worry sometimes,” he admitted, his voice hesitant. “That my work will consume too much of me. That I’ll lose sight of what truly matters.”

Your grip on his hand tightened. “You won’t. Because I won’t let you.”

His lips curved into a small, grateful smile. “I should have known you’d say that.”

“You should know by now that I’m as stubborn as you are,” you teased, your tone light.

His laughter was quiet, but genuine, and it filled the room like sunlight piercing through clouds.

As the moment stretched on, you found yourself glancing at the stack of papers on his desk—his notes, his dreams, the pieces of himself he poured into every creation. Reaching for one, you flipped through the sketches of a device you hadn’t seen before.

“What’s this?”

Viktor hesitated, a rare flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. “It’s… something I’ve been working on. A small gift, if you will.”

“For me?” you asked, your brows raising in surprise.

He nodded, stepping closer to point at the sketch. “It’s a design for an autonomous assistant. Something to help you with your projects—especially those that require an extra set of hands.”

Your heart swelled, warmth spreading through your chest. “Viktor… I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he replied, his voice soft. “I only want to make your work a little easier. You deserve that.”

Turning to face him fully, you smiled, your love for him filling every corner of your being. “You always know exactly what I need.”

“And yet, I still feel like I fall short sometimes,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours.

“You don’t,” you said firmly, cupping his face in your hands. “You’ve given me more than I ever thought I’d have. A partner, a confidant, someone who dreams as big as I do.”

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly. “You make it sound like I’m the lucky one.”

“Maybe we’re both lucky,” you offered.

He opened his eyes, his smile small but genuine. “That, I can agree with.”

As the sun dipped lower, casting the city in hues of gold and amber, you stayed by Viktor’s side, the two of you lost in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence. Together, you were more than your titles or your work—you were a team, a foundation as steady and enduring as the city you both loved.

© prettybouquets 2024. all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, or repost any work as your own.

[clementines-valt]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 ft. Daisuke / Reader you breath slowly, so slowly 𓈒ིུ𖥨᩠ׄ݁˖

daisuke is constantly kept up with your nightly endeavors. but hey, if you can’t beat ‘em join them, right?

𓂂 ͜ᩘ ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘𑣿 ⁣⁣⠀ TAGS ╲ i am not entirely sure if this is considered dub-con (you will see why) but even so i will tag it as such just incase. | (unknown) mutual masturbation | daisuke has a voice kink | reader is depicted as chubby / plus - sized | porn with no plot | daisuke being a little pervert? | brief mentions of anya & swansea | brief mentions of porn | awkward daisuke | ooc daisuke | no plot whatsoever

𓂂 ͜ᩘ ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘𑣿 ⁣⁣⠀ NOTES ╲ i saw that manga panel on twitter & got the randomest idea. i’m not ignoring requests either but this was way easy to type other compared to the beautiful requests you all sent me. i will be attempting to get to them very soon. also i’m trying a new layout. as always please excuse any typos & grammar mistakes <3

When it first happened, Daisuke wanted to write it off as a simple mistake.

To lay the land, his room was second to last— kept off into a little corner of the Tulpar, right next to you; his similar aged coworker that happened to be an intern to Anya. You were kind, mostly keeping to yourself but you did laugh at his jokes every once in a while. Something the man easily appreciated.

But that wasn’t the current concern, no, his attention was drifting. The concern was your rooms, how close they were, how thin the walls seemed to be.

Compared to the wall he shared with Swansea, Daisuke couldn’t hear a thing — a grand surprise as the older man seemed like the type to have a snore that rattled doors. But your wall, he heard everything. Your soft snores after a particularly long day, your alarm, even.. the soft pants and moans you released late at night.

Like stated before, Daisuke wanted to ignore this occurrence the first time it happened. You both were human and he couldn’t blame you for finding a way to blow off some steam. Despite how awkward he felt interacting with you that morning, he wouldn’t dare judge or make you feel bad for a normal biological function.

But.. as more instances like that followed, it just grew harder and harder to ignore. Especially when your voice was, ever so pretty.

A sweet melody really, breaths of passion being followed by the softest swears; as if surprised by your own actions. Your voice did little to help his imagination, his mind running wild with scenarios he didn’t think he was capable of coming up with.

Tonight was like any other. He approached his bed, ready to sleep; confident his slumber wouldn’t be interrupted. But of course, that dream didn’t come true.

As if on time, the clock striking twelve, Daisuke heard the voice that’s been plaguing his ears for the past few nights. His eyes fluttered shut, squinting hard, attempting to drown you out with his own thoughts. The man even made an effort to shove his head deeper into his pillow, hoping to muffle you out.

Unfortunately it did nothing, whether he still heard you or he was imagining it— didn’t matter. There was no way he could sleep like this.

Daisuke’s body turned, letting out a soft huff and basically glaring at the wall you shared. He could pound on it, asking not-so politely for you to keep it down. Or even he could simply go to your door, asking politely this time for the same request. Both options seemed like the obvious one.

Not like what he had eventually settled upon.

As much as the man tried to deny, your voice was beautiful; a perfect pitch that hit all the spots right inside his mind. And being upon the Tulpar, without a single access to his usual “stress-relief” this was pure heaven served to him on a silver platter.

I’m so gross.. The man thought to himself, ever so carefully pulling his blanket off his body and stepping onto the cool freighter floor. With a careful step Daisuke was approaching your wall, hands gripping his shirt as his head began to spun. It’s as if every single step caused him to hear you even clearer, sounds he hadn’t previously heard entering his ears.

Approaching your wall, Daisuke turned, sliding down it to settle upon his bum. There, his head rotated, flinching a bit— but allowing his ear to rest against the cold metal. The man’s breath hitched, hearing you more; your voice drilling right into his ear.

No, drilling was wrong. Flowing? Maybe? Your voice wasn’t some grating sound, but instead borderline angelic.

Your gasps, sweet and honeyed; filled with passion as you played with yourself. Daisuke wondered how you did it, where your hands were on that beautiful body. Maybe one was on your breast; gently cupping the large mound whilst a finger circled the hardening bud? The other between your chubby legs, fingers spreading your delicate flower and playing there sweetly?

Oh, he could just imagine it. The thought, your voice, it filled his body— a feeling that trickled all the way to his toes, yet radiating right below his waist.

Daisuke, despite how uncomfortable the position was, quickly shoved down the pants he wore — boxers following. There his dick was exposed to the cool air and soon his hand, thumb tracing his flushed tip that was already coated with his precum.

With each pretty moan you released his hand was sliding up and down, the man hoping he was in tandem with your fingers. Whether they were circling your clit, or pushing right into your opening.

Daisuke’s eyes shut closed, quickly pulling his shirt to his teeth to both ease the heat running through him and his own sounds. You just, sounded way too good not to quicken his pace. His hips were lifting at this point, struggling to keep himself together as he heard your breaths hurry.

And as his mind drifted, that ache right inside his hand only got even worse.

The man wondered if you would sound the same with him, if those moans would be delivered right in his ear— just like now. Or maybe, you would suddenly become shy, as if you weren’t starring in his own private show.

Far too easily were images of his hands tracing your body entering his head, causing a sharp whimper to release against the wet fabric. With how soft you were the man could bet money you were so fucking warm, filling his hands up and even spilling over.

He could just imagine wrapping his lips around a nipple, sucking just to hear you cry out. He could just imagine gripping right at your pretty marked hips and plunging his own forward. And he could just imagine watching your body ripple with each thrust he delivered.

He could imagine.. but he didn’t want to. Especially not after tonight.

Daisuke was going slump at this point, dragging against the wall as he pumped his dick relentlessly. His breathing was hurried, struggling to keep that rhythm as his end grew closer. And from how you sounded beyond the wall, Daisuke was sure you were too.

A swore escaped the both of you in unison, Daisuke’s seed escaping in short spurts, making a complete mess of his hand and lower stomach. Similarly he heard one final moan from you before you settled down, voice carrying into soft pants.

As did his, shirt slowly falling from his mouth, head knocked against the wall with closed eyes.

Silence carried for a moment before Daisuke’s cloudy mind faded, embarrassment covering rather quickly. He scrambled to his feet, staring down at his mess in shame whilst practically ripping his clothes up his body. Once clothed and covered, the man made quick work of rushing over to his bedroom door, nearly slamming it open.

The only thought on his mind was cleaning up and hopefully actually getting some sleep before his shift

Not you, of course not.

Unfortunately for him, his mind didn’t need to be, as his eyes were instead.

You yelped a little as Daisuke nearly ran into you, the two of you waltzing out of your bedrooms at the same time. Noticing his panicked expression, you gave your own of concern;

“Is everything alright?”

Daisuke whipped around, cheeks hot, sweat sliding down his neck. “Ye—yeah!,” A complete lie.

“Just uh.. gonna use the bathroom. Goodnight!”

The intern was practically running away before you could even reply, your eyes watching him with a simple finger wave.

You leaned against the doorway of your bedroom, standing there silently for a moment before a small smirk covered your lips.

Wordlessly, you turned, entering your bedroom and closing the door shut..

COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED <3

[clementines-valt]

Fluffcember Day Ten: Carols

A/N: Prompt list is by @fluff-cember! Written in headcanon format. Comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated but not necessary!

Warnings: None! Pure fluff!

🎄 "It was nice of Sojourn to let you walk Murphy again!" Sloan watches as she happily trots ahead of the two of you.

🕊️ "Well, she usually likes to do it herself. I guess she had business again." You state.

🪽 Murphy stops to sniff a couple of fallen maple leafs. Your legs are starting to feel numb from all the walking.

⛄️ "She'll be home tomorrow." You add.

❄️ Suddenly, she spots a squirrel. She barks and goes berserk, pulling at her leash and demanding to be let go.

☕️ "Murphy! No!" You chide her. She doesn't listen.

🍪 You can feel yourself about to pass out from the ensuing marathon you were about to run.

🎁 "Here." They offer to take her from you.

💫 You happily oblige.

🔔 You rest your weary legs and back on a nearby bench.

🎄 "W-woah! Murphy! No! Wait–" Murphy charges in a random direction as Sloan is helplessly pulled along.

🕊️ You pay them both no mind.

🪽 Their cries eventually fade into the distance the farther she runs.

⛄️ For a split moment there is only peace and quiet.

❄️ Maple leafs drift in the wind in a zen-like state.

☕️ You close your eyes and take in the serenity of freezing cold.

🍪 Your mind is quiet.

🎁 Then–

💫 "We wish you a marry Christmas–!" A group of people begin singing in unison.

🔔 So much for that nice minute of quiet.

🎄 You only sigh and get up to find a place away from the overly cheerful crowd of carolers.

🕊️ Maybe it's time to go find your beloved before they get pulled half way across Toronto.

🪽 You stop at a local coffee cart set up on the sidewalk and grab two hot chocolates for the road.

⛄️ The barista hands them to you in a mini drink carrier. You thank them before paying and heading off again.

❄️ Your phone says that they're relatively close, but they're being jerked around like a ragdoll on screen.

☕️ You can't tell if that's the work of the cellular network or Murphy still haphazardly dragging them along with her mighty robot legs.

🍪 Another burst of random singing causes you to nearly drop your phone in irritation.

🎁 "And a happy new year–!"

💫 God.

🔔 You understand the festivity, but did you have to do it in the park?

🎄 A puff of condensation leaves your mouth once again. You turn to go find Sloan before you strangle somebody.

🕊️ It seems, though, that they are everywhere all at once.

��� "Good tidings we bring–!"

⛄️ "Rocking around the Christmas tree–!"

❄️ "Frosty the Snowman was–"

☕️ You rush off in the direction of the dot on screen and relief floods your system as soon as Sloan comes into view.

🍪 Murphy is secured in their arms and her little robot legs kick wildly to be freed.

🎁 "Alright! I think we've walked you plenty, yeah?" Your dearest looks down at the squirming corgi.

💫 "You know what? Let's just go home. I'm sick and tired of the Christmas music already." You hand them the hot chocolate you bought.

🔔 You both take a sip of the warm, sugary goodness. You're anything but relaxed though.

🎄 "Christmas music?" They raise an eyebrow.

🕊️ Here come the carolers.

🪽 Again.

⛄️ "Ah." They take another deep drink from their cup and watch as they pass the two of you by.

❄️ "Yeah, I never understood it, either." They add.

☕️ You're slumped over on a park bench in defeat.

🍪 They can't help but laugh just a little.

🎁 "Alright, alright. Let's go home, mi tesoro." They smile at you.

💫 Meanwhile, Murphy spots yet another squirrel.

🔔 "No!" You both yell simultaneously.

[clementines-valt]

BED CHEM

SUMMARY: viktor x reader // you and mel walk down the hallways of piltover university when suddenly, you encounter two men trying to break into a professor’s laboratory.

AUTHORS NOTE: hiii!! so sorry i haven’t posted in a while. season 2 of arcane broke my heart, but it was so cool. anyway, im working on an ashley and ada writing atm, but pls be patient. this is 1.2k words and something i randomly thought of because of a pinterest comment under a photo of viktor

WARNINGS: trying to break into a room, reader is interpreted as feminine because of a long dress and heels, reader is a councilor, not proofread

as a new member of the piltover council, you’ve been the busiest you’d been in your life. constant laws to vote on and tedious, frequent meetings could make you feel annoyed at times. however, you made a new friend, who you’ve become extremely close with in the past couple of years.

you and mel knew each other when you were younger, just never hung out as much as you do now. despite not having strong connections to one another at a young age, it opposes how you are now. she’s invited you to her nightly scouting at piltover university.

it isn’t an interesting activity to do, but you love hanging out with mel. during these times when you explore the large university for hours, you find much time to converse with the noblewoman. sometimes you and she hold your giggles after telling the other a joke, not wanting to alert a trespasser.

this night doesn’t seem to be unlike all the others. you walk down the decorated halls of piltover university with a flashlight in hand. your flowy black dress hangs low to your ankles, and your and mel’s heels clack against the tile floor.

you and mel whisper amongst one another, she asks, “have you had your eye on anyone lately?” smirking softly and side-eyeing you.

you gasp and your cheeks flush, “‘course not, mel! i just… have not found the right person yet, i guess.” your smile diminishes.

your heels continue to clack against the ground, and you feel a cold breeze on your bare arms and leg, exposed due to the slit dress. you shiver and rub your hand on your arm, keeping the flashlight in front of you.

there’s a moment of silence between you two when mel hesitatingly speaks up, “maybe jayce has a friend you will feel… attracted to.”

“eh, i’ll just not do much. maybe let the universe pull me to the right person instead, yeah? i would hate to waste my time on the wrong person—“

she places her arm in front of you, squinting and giving you a look. you tilt your head before you begin to hear voices, and you quietly turn your flashlight off. mel keeps hers on, and the two of you tip-toe closer to the noise. it seems to be close to heimerdinger’s office, if you remember the university layout correctly.

“so far, so good—“ a man with a thick accent whispers, as if trying to hide his actions.

mel turns the flashlight on, and you cross your arms. the two men shield their eyes, and you recognize one as jayce talis. you tilt your head at the sight of the other man with brown hair and a defined jawline, who is turning a key into the door labeled ‘pf. heimdinger.’

mel taunts, “hmm. willing to risk exile for your endeavor. that’s quite the conviction.”

“councilor!” jayce interrupts, “what a surprise to see you, huh?”

then, the mysterious man comes up with an excuse, “wait a minute, this isn’t my bedroom. how could i have…”

jayce stands up from his knees and pleads with you and mel, “please. we can prove that it works.”

mel comes up with a contradiction as fast as lightning, she hums, “hmm. you couldn’t do so earlier today, how is tonight any different?”

“we figured out how to stabilize it.” the pale man replies.

he eyes are sharp toward the noblewoman until his gaze travels to you. his eyes widen and his cheeks flush, he can feel himself becoming warmer and warmer. you can tell he’s observing you and your actions, as well as your attire.

god, you’re beautiful.

he doesn’t say many words over the next couple of seconds, but you smile at him, warming his heart quickly. he’s knocked out of his mind when mel speaks.

“you’re the professor’s assistant,” she refers to the man with the keys.

jayce disagrees, “no, he’s my new partner.”

you nervously chime in, sticking close to mel, “even if you manage to prove your theory, the other council members would destroy it.”

“heimerdinger will recognize the potential, miss l/n,” the handsome man says.

he knows your name!

mel scoffs, and she’s not having any of their crap, “he already does. it scares him. it scares them all.”

“what about you, miss l/n? you are on the council, correct?” jayce’s partner asks. his eyebrows furrow in curiosity, and your heart melts at his eyebrows twitching upwards.

you ponder for a few seconds, staring at him and slickly moving closer to the man. you respond, taking a few moments to think of how to form a sentence in front of such an attractive guy, “i think any worthwhile venture includes risk. and please, call me y/n.”

you hear whistling from the hallway, and you give mel a glance that makes her infer, ‘we need to make a decision quickly.’

“councilors, this technology, it’s real. and no matter what happens here, it’s going to change our world. we should be the ones to lead it. piltover, the land of progress, equality, innovation. i know it sounds impossible, but when have we ever let that stop us? please, just give us a chance.” jayce explains.

you glance at mel, and you assume she’s left the decision to you. you reply with a sigh, “one night, you two. i want to see in the morning how you have progressed your technology.”

“thank you, councilor l/n,” the one in the white tie thanks.

you quietly nod and smile, waving to them as mel gently pulls your arm and turns the flashlight off. she goes on to distract and talk to harold, the enforcer. as you step down the hall, you glance behind you to hardly see the nameless man staring at you back. he then gets pulled into the room by jayce, who seems urgent to work on the high-end technology.

as councilor medarda’s flashlight flicks off, and you and mel walk away, viktor’s still standing near the entrance of the laboratory. he sees a shine in your eyes even through the dark hallway, however, he doesn’t know if you can see him as well.

he doesn’t even notice jayce has unlocked the door until he gets pulled in by the taller man.

“you were ogling at councilor l/n.” jayce grins, teasing his partner.

“i was not. that would be unprofessional and inappropriate. plus, we are here to work on hextech,” he attempts to change the subject, “we should get working on it.”

“i’ll work with mel to set you two up.” jayce objects, rolling his eyes and chuckling at the slender figure.

viktor couldn’t pass up that opportunity.

“who’s the cute boy with the white jacket and the thick accent?” you ask mel, walking away from the enforcer.

she grins at you, showing her perfect teeth, “that was viktor. and from what i can tell, he’s interested in you.”

as you continue to walk down the hallway, leaving the university to travel toward your bedroom, you go to sleep with a happy feeling in your chest.

[clementines-valt]

genuinely need more 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓼𝓾𝓴𝓮 headcannons 😭🙏

daisuke x reader | 🔞 headcanons

⚠️🔞 MDNI

# : gender neutral reader.

[ more dsk nsfw hcs : 🌺 ]

🌺 switch! soft/service dom. maso sub.

🌺 Vocal wise:

★ Sure, he can get loud and noisy. Rambles alot when he's super turned on.

★ No, but imagine sneaky quickies. It's either he's so focused on pleasing you that he ends up panting against your ear or he's so noisy that he has to have his mouth on you to keep himself quiet.

★ Moans ranges from those low-ish ones if he's trying to be quiet to squealing. Something about him having high-pitched moans makes sense to me.

🌺 dacryphilia

★ cries when overstimulated.

★ if you cry though, he'd feel bad and stop to make sure you're fine. if everything's fine, he'd probably go crazy over how you look after crying.

🌺 these specific scenarios (feel free to switch around w t!daisuke or whichever it's very general);

★ smearing precum over the other's lips like lipgloss.

★ this one's for Daisuke specifically (but it can be vv) probably into that porn thing where they show the cum inside their mouth before swallowing.

★ light pussy slapping. bonus if they're wet enough that the slick clings onto the other's fingers. He'd get so lightheaded over it.

🌺 definitely into lingerie (or cosplay). that thong daisuke fanart has me in a chokehold.

★ skirt stays on during sex.

★ doesn't have to be you. he'd wear it instead if you're uncomfortable. something about easy access has him going.

🌺 marking

★ I hc him with sharp canines and snaggle teeth.

★ his canines are crooked so it's obvious whose bites are on you.

★ loves marking and being marked. if you tell him not to leave any on you, he'll probably accidentally leave one or two.

🌺 mess

★ oh that boy is messy.

★ loves seeing his cum all over you and spilling out of you.

"Oh no! Here let me help you keep it in!" His thumbs spread your hole open for a moment just to admire his work before he guides his tip, scooping up his cum and pressing himself back into you. You call out his name with a tone that was warning him. "Can we go again, please?"

★ likewise, he'd want your mess all over him too.

[clementines-valt]

Sub!Viktor x Reader

content warnings: NSFW, choking & edging (Viktor receiving), oral (reader receiving), he whines until you sit on his face basically.

very romantic and intimate despite a person literally being choked but yk its rly not my fault, it's his. [established relationship]

word count: ~1.5k

"You're being too loud Vik...can't keep it down hm?"

"Please....if we get another noise complaint I'm never ever gonna forgive you." he begs as you pause to let him talk.

It's an empty threat, but you need to take some accountability for your cruelty. You've been toying with him for ages at this point, reducing him to surprised yelps and desperate whines that are truly a symphony to your ears. To your neighbors? Not so much.

And you're everything if not merciful. Depending on who's asked of course.

You place your thumb across his chapped lips and dip the soft pad of your finger inside, dragging it gently across his teeth and gums before he gives you an appreciative hum, opening his mouth and nestling his tongue in place.

The adoration in your eyes is beautifully suffocating, his hips trashing against your other hand, chasing it, running away from it...all at once. He has been at your will for this whole night. He might die...at least that's how it feels.

You start up again, with no rush, often stopping to glide your hand and mouth across his freckled skin, soothing his trembles with sweet and mellow words whispered into his ear.

He feels...indecent. Drooling around your hand like that, muffling his moans with your thumb, biting and nibbling on it. You just sway it with the eager suckles of his tongue, sometimes even pressing on it firmly, letting his mouth hang open, spit smearing across his face.

He's teary eyed, overwhelmed yet hungry. Your voice pelts off of his sensitive neck...trails down his spine and spreads through his ribcage.

Warmth swirls inside his stomach, and for a moment it's scorching hot until he himself melts with it, pushing your pruney finger to the corner of his lips...he whines.

His face falls to the crook of your neck, burying itself there. You carefully lace your fingers through his soft hair, your pace on him just a fraction quicker.

You place a kiss to the shell of his ear, nuzzling the side of his head.

"You're right there aren't you...Need a little more?" you ask, your voice laced with affection, your movements consistent and precise.

"No-ah, no...just like this. Please...please just..." you nod, shuddering at the gentle bite on your shoulder.

"Allright, I've got you. Whatever you need..."

"Keep talkinghh."

It's a bossy demand, muffled because it's quickly cut off by another bite into your skin. The sunlight that peeks through the blinds paints his pale body in liquid gold, a pretty shade a fraction lighter than his eyes.

"You're so precious to me Vik...made for me are you not?" You can feel him throb, you can feel the heat of his body...ears dusted red, fingertips scraping down your back. Your heart hammers in your chest, anticipation building as you watch him.

"Show me how beautiful you are for me...Can you do that?" you ask in that honeyed voice of yours, raspy with your own greedy desire.

You tug on his hair, and he lets you pull him out of his hiding, your faces now close. He can feel your breath tickling his face.

"Let me see..." and when you ask so nicely, so honestly...how can he deny you anything, how can he doubt anything when the emotions that surge through him as your eyes lock leave no room for such a silly thing.

So he lets himself unfold, lets you see him in his most vulnerable, eyes clouded with unshed tears, brows furrowed and mouth agape.

You place your hand on his bared throat, squeezing around it, firm and practiced, holding it there until his eyes become slightly unfocused and wide.

He falls apart for you, gasping and chocking up on his words as he starts spilling onto your hand, curling in on himself in ways he can't be convinced are attractive.

"Yes precious, just like that, don't be shy" you encourage, letting him fuck your hand thoroughly, giving every last ounce of his strength to you, for you.

You let go of his throat then, just a second before he's about to tap your wrist.

He has to slap his hand over his mouth instead, and then the other, shuddering and crying into it as he rides out the last waves of his release, his tummy clenching and flexing as his whole torso heaves.

"You're fucking perfect..." you mumble, as if in trance with every tremble of his lithe body.

He finally stills, now fighting for air and clutching at his chest as he urges himself to calm his breathing down. You sooth him, moving your hand to pet at his back, quickly wiping the other before using it to push the strands of sticky hair out of his face.

His ears are buzzing for a moment, before he finally sighs and then gulps a big breath. He tries to speak up but his sore throat doesn't let him, voice cracking.

"Do you need a drink? Or do you need to cough? Please don't be embarrassed" you say this as you pet his cheek, searching his face.

He shakes his head no before he clears the lump from his throat, finding his voice again.

"No...I'm allright , thank you." he gets off of your lap slowly, stretching his legs before repositioning himself on the pillows, pulling you by the hand to follow him.

When you crawl with him...on top of him, he has to swallow dryly again, eyes eagerly eating at you, at every curve of your body that he hasn't seen for a hot second there.

"You have a way with words dear..." he complains, smoothing his palms over your hips.

"Is that so?"

"Yes. Makes me feel all exposed...It's not fair...Especially when you don't give me a fighting chance."

You hum.

"Outside of this, you're the more eloquent one, I think the dynamic is quite balanced"

"Hmh...If you say so." he pretends to glance away, but his arm wraps around the small of your back, making you sit higher on his chest.

"Maybe my words are excessive in this part of our 'dynamic'...l have other redeeming qualities I hope."

You chuckle, looking down at him, his dark, hungry eyes piercing yours, cheeks still a tiny bit flushed under your attention.

"Absolutely..." you confirm, yet you refuse to fall under the faint pressure of his arm on your back.

You are playing coy, and his mouth is already salivating. How cruel.

He rolls his eyes, scoffing.

"Let me show you anyways…” he says, soft yet bashful.

"Maybe if you say please one more time for me, I'll indulge"

"I think I begged enough, no?" he concurs, spreading his hands over your thighs, squeezing briefly before he slides a skilled hand between your legs. He spreads your soaked folds apart, marveling at the sheer amount of wetness that leathers his palm.

"Gave you everything you asked for...let you ruin me however you desired..." he trails off, slowly becoming a tiny bit frustrated.

You stammer as his long fingers easily glide inside you with little to no resistance. Your clit throbs as he bends to give it a quick, wet kiss, peering up at you expectantly as he fills you with slow, deep strokes.

"Come here.” he whispers, adjusting himself under you, a firm arm pulling you down on his pretty face. You let him.

There's a sigh of gratification at the first thick taste he swallows down, coating his throat with you, tongue nestled in with his digits and then he laps.

Loud and filthy. Like you've starved him for months.

You admit defeat, grabbing at the roots of his messy hair with your hand.

You bear down against his mouth, nice and slow until you have almost all of your weight on him. Just how you know he craves it.

His lashes flutter and his eyes roll to the back of his head, legs bending at the knees.

A stifled hiss comes from under you and then a barely coherent blasphemy reaches your ears.

"Ushg my face. Pleahse…"

And how can one refuse...

Posts this draft and runs 🏃‍♀️‍➡️

Might make a sequel if I get bullied enough. But i might not resist smushing my man jayce in here. Thread carefully.

Hope you enjoyed. Mwah🩵

[clementines-valt]

𝓚indling 𝓢parks⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

gn!reader x viktor (from arcane)

𝓻𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽; hiii i was wondering if you were interested in writing a viktor (arcane) x reader. perhaps the reader is short and is viktors assistant?? I would rlly appreciate if you wrote this for me cuz it’s been on my mind for agessss(so has viktor)🙏🩷

word count; 1,3k

cw; nothing (except use of y/n)

The lab hummed softly with the sounds of arcane machinery, the glow of strange devices casting shadows along the walls. You were perched on a stool, thankfully tall enough to reach the table before you, organizing rows of crystals and notes. Viktor stood nearby, hunched over a piece of intricate machinery, his brow furrowed in deep concentration.

“Could you pass me the calibration rod?” he asked, his voice even and focused.

“Already got it,” you replied, holding the tool up to him.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he glanced at you. “Always one step ahead, aren’t you?”

“Of course. It’s my job to keep up with you,” you quipped, your tone light.

Being Viktor’s assistant wasn’t easy. He was brilliant, driven, and had a knack for pushing boundaries. It was hard not to admire him, though. His determination to change the world through innovation was inspiring, and you felt a deep pride in being part of his work.

But today, you were finding it harder to focus. Whether it was the late hour or the way Viktor’s hair fell messily into his face as he worked, your attention kept drifting.

“y/n, are you listening?”

You jolted, realizing he was looking at you expectantly. “Sorry! What did you need?”

Viktor chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You’ve been staring off a lot today. Am I keeping you too late again?”

“No! I mean, yes, but it’s fine,” you stammered, earning an amused raise of his brow. “I want to help.”

He leaned back slightly, his golden eyes studying you with a mix of curiosity and concern. “You work harder than anyone I know, yet you always insist on staying late. Why is that?”

You hesitated, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze. “Maybe I just like the company,” you muttered.

His expression softened, and the faintest hint of a smile curved his lips. “The feeling is mutual.”

The room fell into a comfortable silence as the two of you worked side by side. Despite his occasional complaints about your height—like when you struggled to reach tools on the higher shelves—Viktor appreciated your meticulousness. You often caught him glancing your way with an almost imperceptible fondness.

After a while, you stood on tiptoe to place a crystal into its housing on the machine Viktor was assembling. The stool wobbled beneath you, and you yelped as your balance faltered.

“Careful!” Viktor exclaimed, his cane clattering to the floor as he steadied you with one arm.

You blinked up at him, clutching his sleeve for balance. “Thanks,” you murmured, your face burning with embarrassment.

He chuckled, his voice low and warm. “I thought I told you to let me handle the high shelves.”

“You tell me a lot of things,” you teased, trying to mask your flustered state. “Doesn’t mean I listen.”

Viktor’s laugh was soft, and he shook his head in mock exasperation. “You’re incorrigible.”

As he steadied you, his hand lingered just a moment longer than necessary before he stepped back to retrieve his cane. “You’re all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, waving him off. “Just my pride that’s hurt.”

He smiled faintly, his eyes lingering on you. “You know, I could build you something to help with your… vertical disadvantage,” he offered, his tone teasing but affectionate.

“Very funny,” you said, sticking your tongue out at him. “But maybe I’ll take you up on that if you promise not to make it ridiculous.”

Viktor returned to his work, but the atmosphere between you felt lighter now, like the unspoken tension that had been building was beginning to ease.

“You’re not just here because of the work, are you?” he asked after a while, his voice unusually soft.

You froze, your hands pausing over a stack of notes. “What do you mean?”

He glanced at you, his expression thoughtful. “I mean… I see the way you look at me sometimes. And the way I…” He trailed off, clearing his throat as a faint blush crept into his pale cheeks. “I’ve grown rather fond of you, y/n.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you turned to face him fully. “You have?”

He nodded, his usual confidence tempered by a rare vulnerability. “You’ve been at my side through everything. You challenge me, support me, and make even the longest nights bearable.” He hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with a loose piece of wire. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t look forward to seeing you every day.”

You felt your chest tighten, warmth spreading from your heart to the tips of your fingers. “I...I feel the same way,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes met yours, a flicker of relief and something deeper crossing his face. “Then perhaps I’ve been a fool for waiting so long to tell you.”

Stepping closer, you smiled up at him. “You’re a genius, Viktor, but even geniuses need a nudge sometimes.”

He chuckled, the sound soft and full of affection. “Perhaps you’re right.”

The space between you seemed to shrink as he reached out, his hand brushing yours. For a moment, the lab and its glowing machinery faded into the background, leaving only the two of you standing together in the quiet.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

“For what?”

“𝓕𝓸𝓻 𝓫𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓫𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓶𝔂 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓵𝓭,” he replied, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

You squeezed his hand, your smile widening. “Anytime, Viktor. Anytime.”

The night carried on, the hum of the lab filling the air as you returned to work—but now, the space between you felt warmer, closer. It was a quiet kind of affection, one built over long nights and shared dreams.

You and Viktor returned to work, the hum of the lab filling the space, but now the silence felt warmer—less like solitude and more like home.

© prettybouquets 2024. all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, or repost any work as your own.

[clementines-valt]

—(I can't think of a title)

W/C: Idk 1k+

Pairing: Daisuke x GN! Reader

Warnings: nune.

A/N: MY POOKIE GAVE ME A PROMPT SO I WROTE IT,, SAW @freakyydaisukee POST, LUCKY I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF WRITING THIS LOL.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Daisuke had always been one to find excitement in everything. Whether it was the smallest detail of a passing cloud or the newest trend everyone at school was trying to follow, he could always find something to be enthusiastic about. It was just who he was. And it was something that people admired about him—his unrelenting optimism, his constant enthusiasm for life.

But of all the things Daisuke had ever been excited about, there was one person who stood out from the rest.

You.

From the moment he first laid eyes on you in the hallway of their high school, he knew there was something special about you. You weren't like everyone else.. Daisuke admired everything about you. You were pretty smart, funny, made a few friends, and were pretty attractive too. It made Daisuke feel like he could conquer anything, just because he’d seen you smile.

As the years went by, Daisuke found himself drawn to you more and more. He would always try to sit near you in class, though he never had the courage to speak to you outside of group projects or class assignments. His friends always teased him about it, but he didn’t mind. They didn’t understand. His feelings for you weren’t something as simple as a crush—they were a quiet, constant thing that swelled within him each time he saw you.

He would watch you interact with your friends, and he’d wonder if you noticed him at all. Did you know how much he admired you? Did you ever catch his gaze from across the room? Did you ever wonder why he always had that excited smile on his face whenever you were around?

But Daisuke was terrified. High school was the time when everyone was either figuring out who they were or hiding who they were, and Daisuke knew that his feelings for you were something he couldn’t quite put into words. What if he confessed and ruined everything? What if you didn’t feel the same?

So he kept quiet. For years.

And every time he saw you leave school with your friends, he felt his heart sink, knowing that his chance might be slipping away.

--

Graduation came faster than Daisuke had expected. It was a bittersweet moment for him. Everyone was so excited about what came next, about the future that awaited them. He’d felt the same way, once, but now it just felt hollow. The future was full of uncertainty for Daisuke. Sure, he was going to follow in his parents' footsteps and become a mechanic—just like they wanted. But it wasn’t the future that excited him. The future that excited him was the one where he could finally tell you how he felt.

But that opportunity never came. Graduation was a blur of ceremonies, farewell parties, and promises to stay in touch. And you—well, you were already gone. You had plans. Your future seemed set. And Daisuke was left wondering if he would ever get the chance to confess his feelings to you, or if you would just fade into the background of his life like so many people did.

He didn’t know what happened to you after graduation. You disappeared into the vast world, as far as he was concerned. And as time passed, Daisuke told himself that he needed to move on. He needed to focus on his job, on making his parents proud. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to have a grand love story, after all.

--

Two years later, Daisuke found himself on the Tulpar—a spaceship that was about to embark on a long-term mission to ship whatever was in the boxes they couldn't touch or see. His parents looked for a while to find a job that he could do, and when the opportunity to work on a high-end spaceship as a mechanic opened up, they nudged him toward it. He wasn’t exactly thrilled, but he figured it was the right thing to do. It wasn’t the adventure he’d hoped for, but it was steady work. And steady work meant stability.

--

The day of the ship's space launch. He was accepted last minute as an intern but he could care less. He was pretty nervous though, the thought of being in the middle of space for a year is kinda scary for him.

He was just minding his own business before someone crept up to him.

"O-M-G!!," The person exclaimed.

Daisuke froze mid-sentence as he turned toward the voice. His heart skipped a beat.

Standing there, in her flight suit with a clipboard in hand, was you.

It took him a second to process. You. You were standing right in front of him. His mind spun with disbelief and excitement.

"Wait—what?" he blurted out, still in shock.

You raised an eyebrow at him, half-smiling, but there was something about it that felt more genuine, more knowing. "Surprised? Anyways, how have you been... uh... Daisuke correct? We went to the same high school together!" you say excitedly.

"You—you're... you're planning on working on the Tulpar too?" Daisuke asked, the words tumbling out.

You nodded, your eyes scanning the room before they landed back on him. "Yeah. I didn’t know you were here too."

Daisuke's excitement was barely contained. After all these years of admiring you from afar, here you were. In the flesh. On the same ship. And now he had a chance to talk to you—really talk to you.

“I—yeah, I’ve been here for a while.” Daisuke couldn’t stop smiling. “It’s... kind of crazy that we’re both here. You know? I always wondered what happened to you after graduation. I didn’t expect to see you again.”

You smiled softly at that. “I guess we both ended up on the same path, huh?”

He nodded, though his brain was still struggling to keep up. You—here, on the Tulpar, working alongside him. It felt like a dream.

“I never thought I’d be working on a spaceship,” you continued, leaning against the wall as you casually chatted. “I didn’t even think you would, either. But... here we are.”

For the first time in years, Daisuke allowed himself to feel the weight of his excitement. There was a universe of possibilities in front of him now. You were here, and maybe—just maybe—he could find a way to confess the feelings he’d kept hidden for so long.

--

“So... what do you think of the ship so far?” he asked, trying to regain his composure.

You laughed lightly. "It's impressive. But I'm sure you've seen much more than I have. You've been here longer."

“Yeah,” Daisuke said, a gleam in his eye. “But if you want, we could look around together. Maybe help you an I get more comfortable?”

You smiled again, this time in that quiet way that always made Daisuke’s heart race. “I’d like that.”

As the days passed, Daisuke found himself spending more and more time with you. He was thrilled to just be near you, but this time, he didn’t have to hide behind the walls he’d built in high school. He could be himself, and you were there to see it. Slowly, Daisuke began to open up, sharing stories, laughing together, and finding joy in the little moments. And all the while, his feelings for you grew stronger, more real.

Maybe, just maybe, the universe had led him to this moment for a reason.

--

One evening, after a long shift, Daisuke found you just sitting in the couch, the dim lights of the ship casting a soft glow on your face.

"Hey," he said softly, walking up to you. His heart pounded. He didn’t know if he’d ever have the courage to say it, but right now, in this quiet moment, he felt like he could.

“Hey, Daisuke.” You smiled up at him, looking tired but content.

"Look... I don't know how to say this, but I've wanted to say it for a long time. I—" His voice cracked slightly as he struggled to find the words.

You watched him intently, your expression calm, understanding. "What is it?"

"I think... I think I’ve liked you for a long time. Ever since high school," Daisuke blurted out, his face turning red as he stumbled over the words. "I don’t know why I never told you, but... I think I just... really like you."

For a moment, there was silence. Daisuke’s heart raced, waiting for your response, unsure of what would come next.

You stepped closer, your smile widening. “Hehe... I’ve always known,” you said softly with a cheeky grin, and Daisuke’s heart nearly stopped.

“I’m glad you’re here, Daisuke,” you continued, taking his hand in yours. “I’m glad we’re both here.”

And with that, in the endless stretch of space, surrounded by stars, Daisuke realized that sometimes, life’s most beautiful surprises came when you least expected them.

--

[clementines-valt]

Hex Machine - Viktor x Reader

Description -

Viktor makes a machine to cheat human exhaustion.

1.9k words

F/M. 18+. Smut. Fucking Machine. Spit. Dom Viktor. Light Choking. Dirty Talk. NSFW.

There was a rather sheepish knock at your door. You were puzzled, you were not usually disturbed at night. Viktor, your boyfriend, was busy working on something that he wouldn’t reveal to you, and your friends hadn't made any plans with you this evening. You slid on your slippers and walked through your hall to answer the door. You opened it to Jayce. He looks startled at your answering and is flushed pink. That’s strange, he must have some urgency.

“Viktor needs you. In the lab. He’s uhm, finished making your surprise.” He stammers.

“Jayce, you look red, are you okay?”

“I helped him make it; I didn’t realise it was for-.” He replies, “I thought it was a drill.”

You are thoroughly confused as you say your goodbyes to Jayce and close the door. You hurriedly undress and redress and head outside, carried by your curiosity. You take the fastest walk to the lab, knocking on the door once you get there. There’s a few more seconds of silence than usual as you wait for the door to be opened from inside. There’s a mechanical whirring sound coming from within which pauses and ceases as you hear footsteps approaching. The door opens.

“(Y/N)! Jayce sent you. Yes, good.” Viktor ushers you inside, sliding a hand around your back, perching his palm on your waist. He grins widely.

In the middle of the lab, covered with a large blue sheet of fabric is some strange contraption.

“Viktor, what is this?” You ask, a little bewildered. It is larger than you expected and takes up the majority of the lab.

“It’s a surprise. A rather large one, which I am sure you will be very fond of. Guess.”

“…a drill?” You test the waters.

Viktor scoffs and stifles a laugh, “Jayce got to you first, hm.”

He approaches the cloaked object and reaches out his arm to swipe its cover away, somewhat like a magician. With a swoop the fabric falls to the floor. You still have no idea what it is.

“It’s a-?” You attempt, not wanting to disappoint in your misunderstanding.

Viktor looks amused.

“It’s my most wonderful creation and you can’t even tell what it is?” He smirks. “You’ll understand once you are in it”

“In it?”

“Undress yourself.”

“Right here in the lab?”

“Are you curious Miss (Y/N)?”

“Yes.”

“I repeat, undress for me.”

You did as you were told, slowly and intentionally seductive as he watched you intensely. You removed your clothes layer by layer. You enjoyed it when he was quite stern with you, you liked it when he took control.

“This is the hex machine. “He proudly announces.

“…the hex machine?” You giggle.” Viktor that name...”

“You won’t be laughing when I have you strapped to it, Miss (Y/N).”

Viktor reaches out for your hand and guides you towards the machine. It has a large black frame with a sling in the middle like a swing set. Positioned underneath is a strange piston on a rail. The seat of the swing sits around hip height to Viktor and suspends you above ground with both of your legs spread and fixed to material stirrups.

“Viktor, what kind of a machine is this?”

“I told you, the hex machine.”

“What is it used for?”

“…hex.” You sense he found the joke as funny as you did. “Here, I’ll help you into it.”

You grab the frame with both hands and lift yourself up as Viktor adds support to your waist. You fit into the seat nicely and it supports your back in such a way that you are leant backwards at a slight angle. Quite a revealing angle.

“And now you put your feet in the stirrups”

It was impossible not to feel vulnerable in the position he was placing you in, effectively spread eagled in the centre of the lab, supported and pulled apart with slings and metal poles. Viktor admired you, tied up for him. Your soft skin made a contrast to the harshness of the metal and roughness of the fabric.

“I have always wanted to try this position with you, but my leg never allowed it.”

He steps forward, pushing his hips into yours, your wetness showing on the deep colour of his trousers as you press against him.

“With you being supported like that, I can have you exactly how I want to.”

At this, he begins to unbutton his trousers and pulls down his zip. He slides the trousers over his hips, presenting you with a view of him in his underwear, with his impressively straining cock threatening to push upwards and through his waistband at any moment. He releases himself, springing free, and kicks his underwear out of the way of the mechanism. He raises his hand to your face.

“Spit” he demands.

You spit into his hand, and he reaches down and coats himself, stroking from base to tip, ensuring he is full covered. You see him as he watches you, the lust in his face and twitch in his body as he takes in your magnificence. To see you so available to him made him twitch once more. The confident, intelligent, strong woman that you were, immobilised in a machine intended fully for his pleasure. It was almost too much.

“I am afraid Miss (Y/N) that this use of the hex machine will be entirely for my benefit. I am going to detail the order of events as I am sure you will be as curious as I about the capabilities of a machine like this.”

He speaks deliberately as he continues to stroke himself.

“Firstly, I am going to prepare us both, then I am going to fuck you. Then I am going to demonstrate the true purpose of the machine. Is this understood?”

You nod.

“Obedient and obliging, my perfect experiment.”

Viktor raises two fingers to his mouth, coating them with his tongue before lowering them to you and inserting them slowly. You feel them stretching you. With the position the machine is forcing you into, they feel deeper than usual. He has engineered perfect comfort, perfect utility, perfect sex. He quickens and you watch as his forearms move in rhythm, the arms of his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You feel yourself soak his fingers. He notices, acknowledges your readiness. Viktor lines himself up with your entrance, carefully considering the angle and familiarising himself with the heights of the machine.

“Are you sure this is comfortable?” He asks, “If you need any adjustments, I can fix it.”

“I am as comfortable as I can be with you pressing into me like that,” You hiss, trying to push forwards to allow him to enter.

“Patience” He chuckles, mockingly pushing against you so you can feel only the tip.

“Viktor please.” You plead, pushing forwards again to try to use the rocking motion of the swing to enlighten you.

“Besides, if you wanted to use force to get what you want, you would have to push-“At this, Viktor firmly pushes you, “backwards.”

You swing backwards, swooping back forwards in opposite motion, landing straight in alignment with him, he enters you fully and you both choke out in moaned surprise. As you are fully filled with him, he grabs your thighs, stabilising the swing. He holds you firmly, grinding into you with his hips, finding deeper depth and stretching you, before pushing you backwards once more.

With each thrust timed perfectly and with Viktor keeping his balance with the strenuous lifting handled, he fucks you with complete energy and passion, bouncing you on him with force. You are struggling to catch your breath, being batted from airborne to filled within seconds repeatedly.

“Oh fuck (Y/N), this is even better than I had imagined”

You were held firm by the restraints holding you up, with your view of Viktor using you to your full capabilities, immobilised like some poor fly in a spider’s web. The slapping of the two of your bodies coincided with your vocalised pleasure. The wet sounds filled the lab. It sounded absolutely indecent. You wondered at which point Jayce figured out the machines purpose. You wondered if Viktor explained it to him, or if he left the room in blushed hurry as he slowly realised his friends’ intentions - all his hard work, just to convert you into an easily accessed object for his pleasure.

Viktor continues to thrust and push and watching him work himself in and out of you has your release building. The growls that are escaping his throat are raw and needy.

“I’m going to fill you”, he insists, “I will have you walk away from here dripping, do you understand?”

“Yes!” You cry out, “please, I need it.”

‘Need what?”

“Need you.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck, you Viktor. I want you to fill me.”

At your request, he slams into you hard, and harder and harder, until he’s panting and sweating and right on the edge. His hips are doing all the work, and his free hand is wandering and desperate. He gropes at you, trailing over your breasts, before settling on your neck lightly.

“You are mine. All of you is mine, the only thing I will share you with are my inventions”

You do your best to clench your internal muscles around him, trying to pull him into you, trying to regain some control in this domination he is offering you, trying to send him over the edge prematurely. You give in, relaxing your core, allowing him to take you exactly how he pleases.

“I am yours, Viktor.”

He halts your movement on the last swing, securing himself deeply to the base inside of you before releasing, filling you fully. His eyes roll back in pleasure. Viktor is gasping for breath as he put all his strength into the final thrust, he uses the frame to steady himself. He kisses your forehead, peppering your face and lips too before slowly pulling out. You feel the hot rush of his warmth seep out, dripping down your entrance and onto the lab floor. You feel desperate for your release. The final few thrusts have left you wanting and needy.

“Viktor, please, please I’m not done.”

“I told you to be patient.” He smirks, mesmerised by watching you drip. He steps away from the machine, altering the rail along the bottom. He approaches his desk, removing something from a box. His back is to you, though as he turns you make out the shape and length of a very familiar object. He mounts the dildo to the rig before adjusting it once more, this time lining it up with your entrance. He returns to his desk, retrieving a controller.

“I can assure you, (Y/N), you will be more than satisfied.” He presses the button and humorously announces, “Behold the power of the hex machine.”

The machine whirs and the dildo begins to thrust, mimicking Viktor’s pace. It lubricates itself using the joint wetness that pools inside of you and slides in and out with ease. Viktor seats himself at his desk chair, shuffling along to you to achieve a better view. The dildo is smothered, foaming and relentless, a perfect imitation of Viktor. He reclines in satisfaction, legs propped up, as you are overwhelmed over and over and over again.

“Machines supplement where human biology fails us. Let’s see how long you last, Miss (Y/N).”

Tag List-

@veru-boom

[clementines-valt]

ppl don’t talk abt surfer boy daisuke enough imo!!!!!

finished version!! ^^

[clementines-valt]

[clementines-valt]

just happened to land on you, who else?

----- pt. 1

daisuke x gn reader fic 𓆩⟡𓆪 word count; 1.1k

content warning: later smut, non-established relationship, awkwardness, NEEDY 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴suke, angst(post crash doomed-ness)

You were Anya's intern— you didn't know what career to pick so you followed whatever your parents thought was best. The money balanced out the negatives; long and unpredictable hours, patient interactions, and differing opinions from coworkers on how to deal with someone. All you needed to get that was a good recommendation and your parents would deal with medical school's expenses.

So you signed up for every advertisement that didn't look scam-y. Until no one would call back, it made sense. You had nothing on your record but a summer job you had at sixteen and a high school diploma. Not exactly the top candidate.

Your last hope was a faded-out pamphlet stapled to an electric post. Reluctantly, you ripped off one of the phone number handouts printed between the dotted punctured lines. That flyer was no doubt, the sketchiest thing you had ever seen in your life. That cartoon horse mascot smiling at you didn't ease any worries despite how much the company probably wanted it to.

<⟡>

Now you were boarding the Tulpar, you could see your new coworkers through the small crowd of higher-ups and last-minute maintenance workers; a bunch of sad sack adults, and a guy like you. Small carry-on bags either held or settled by their feet.

He was friendly, really friendly. He ran over to you immediately, imaginary tail wagging at the mere sight of someone in his age group.

"Daisuke Juárez." He blurted out, extending a hand for you to shake.

"Uh, what?" His eyebrows furrowed as he dropped his hand, looking away. You could see his lips mutter a swear but no sound came out.

"That's my name, sorry for no intro before that..." He gave a nervous chuckle before he offered his hand to you again. You took it, why wouldn't you? It would just make this already weird conversation worse.

A quick shake between new coworkers. Nervous sweat passed back and forth, a cold feeling and a 'clink' sound from his rings bumping against yours. This guy would probably be your only choice for socializing. He had a lot of enthusiasm to pass around and frankly, everyone needed it.

<⟡>

A couple of months on board and by some miracle, he wasn't your thirteenth reason yet. Your boredom wouldn't let you hate him. You looked forward to his shenanigans. To Swansea's dismay, you started participating.

Sneaking sugar packets here, teaming up to cheat on crew game nights there.

Then it happened. That fake scenic sunset display quickly changed to a message so contrasting; Crash eminent. You had no clue what to do other than prepare. The blaring alarms didn't stop even when you ducked down behind the kitchen counters.

<⟡>

Everything was ruined, tousled, destroyed. Emergency foam went off everywhere, closing off the sleeping quarters, and a couple of hallways.

Every day, every new experience drained you. You had to hold back Anya's hair four times as she vomited in between patching up Captain— no, just Curly now.

One day, Swansea gathered up everyone, well tried. He only got the interns to sit down in the living quarters, pacing back and forth while he gave a doomed pep talk to the only people who would listen.

"We're fucked. This goddamn company doesn't care about us or that one of their ships went offline. We're dead meat, just names on a fucking list." He kept pacing. He had that little rasp in his voice, probably from the fact he kept pausing his spiel to take swigs of mouthwash. Daisuke told you all about Swansea's drunken rants whenever the two of you got bored enough. He said he liked the burn. The knowledge that he was ruining his life all over again. He loved it.

"You kids do whatever the fuck you want, 'cause I'm not doing shit. I'm not going to spend the last weeks of my life slaving away at the same company that already took forty years of my damn happiness." Then he walked off, too drunk to stomp away. Going to stand in front of the utility room. The only task he wanted to commit to; stopping others from doing something stupid; he always did. Daisuke could be his whole defense for that argument.

"So that's our advice... We do whatever because we're dying soon anyway." You mumbled after some struggle. Someone both you and Daisuke were supposed to look up to and ask for guidance just told you to fuck around while you still can.

"That's it? Our first fucking trip and we die here?!" You stood up, your anger wanted to move and right now, you didn't want to deny it.

Daisuke let out a quiet sigh, leaning back until his body hit the cold floor, he ran his fingers through his hair, in an attempt to ease something... anything. "I haven't lived yet. I partied. I jacked around. I don't have anything to actually be proud of. I haven't done anything."

That made you stop. He was right. He hasn't lived and neither have you. You were getting mad at people millions of miles away on Earth, that for sure didn't know your name or face.

"Bucket list." You whispered in that same tone you used to pass jokes to him during lectures with Swansea... a long time ago. He would give anything for this shitshow to be a dream that he could wake up to and have you joke about Swansea's under-eyes over and over again. "We make a bucket list. We do everything before we die when the food and oxygen supply run out.

<⟡>

They wrote down a small list each. It was cute at first, pranking the unbothered Swansea wasn't as fun as before but it was something. They shared a couple sugar packets, helped Anya out for a bit, and destroyed the kitchen by mismatching recipes.

Then their lists went cold and desperate; in tiny, rushed pen-written letters were four words. "Don't die a virgin."

After reading it from the other's list, they looked up at each other. "This is humiliating, you know," Daisuke spoke up first, despite his words he had a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Yeah... I know." You replied back. This was a horrible way to lose something people said was so sacred, but now, you saw it how it was; just another experience to have before you died.

[clementines-valt]

viktor x assistant!reader

you were always too worried about viktor. you couldn't help it, not when he seemed so passionate about ruining himself for the sake of his research on hextech. someone had to take care of him, if not himself, you.

in the beginning it was difficult, when jayce brought you to the lab viktor gave you a studying look, sizing you up, deciding almost immediately they didn't need help, not yours, not from anyone.

but jayce had it known it was a non negotiable decision, he was getting more and more busy with the council work and viktor was surely exhausting himself with the research, he needed the help and you would be perfect for the part.

and you were, actually, slowly you proved your worth, being quite a genius on tech yourself, it wasn't hard to figure out the little instabilities with the hextech and help with the infinite calculations that came with the job.

and so, viktor started warming up to you, he started with asking for help in little things, like correcting an equation he couldn't seem to crack, checking some new invention that was malfunctioning every time he tried to start it, and every time he had to hide his surprised expression when you actually solved the problem.

so he started respecting you, and then, actually talking to you, letting you know a thing or two about him. how he liked his coffee, how organized he was with the notes on the notebook that he usually showed no one but now he's showing you, how passionate he actually was about giving people access to magic, about providing real change and comfort to the people in need and how far he was willing to go for it.

and you didn't even realize you were falling in love with him until one of those late, late nights in the laboratory, just the two of you working on some new tool together.

viktor was sleepy, clearly, you could see it in his tired eyes, but he was too stubborn to leave the work unfinished, leaned on a desk, being swallowed by the infinite papers with prototypes, he didn't even feel it when he fell asleep, his head resting on the cold surface above his notebook.

but you noticed.

it wasn't rare for him to sleep in the lab, he'd told you that before, you'd seen him early in the morning when you came to start working and he was already there. but it was the first time you saw it happening.

and he looked so beautiful, exhausted, the bags under his eyes profound, but undeniably beautiful. almost ethereal in that brief moment his body relaxed.

and you don't know why, but you reached his hair, your fingers featherlight when they brushed the brown strands, a surprisingly smooth sensation, his hair was soft.

and, yet unconsciously, he leaned into your hand, making you give into your sudden impulse and actually caress his scalp, gentle, caring.

later, when he woke up, he thought it was just a dream.

and from that day on you felt your heart beating fast almost whenever you were together. sitting side by side discussing something, his breath close to your face, his hand brushing yours when reaching for a pen, his knee touching yours under the desk when he was too focused on a new invention to move away, to keep his distant and cool demeanor, he was warmer now.

you continued doing little things for him, bringing him food when he forgot to eat and brushing it off as “i just bought too much for myself, do you want some?”, of course he knows you did it on purpose but he wouldn't point it. besides, he almost found it... endearing.

and on a particularly quiet night in the lab, the only sounds being of viktor's pen on paper and the soft hum of the machines surrounding you, you fell asleep there, for the first time.

the thing is, you were sat beside him, studying some pieces of a tool you've broken down to fix, and the moment you fell asleep your head was drooping to the side.

viktor thought it would give you a sore neck lately. of course it was the only reason he brought you closer to rest on his shoulder... it's not like he felt like he needed you close and couldn't resist seeing you so unapologetically adorable by his side... of course not.

he continued writing, but he was unfocused, the gentle weight of you resting on him occupying his thoughts. he didn't realize he was even moving before he brought you a little closer, his hand securing your waist, all in the name of making sure you were comfortable, he justified to himself.

you stirred, slowly waking up, your senses registering his scent before your eyes opened, he smelled good, like coffee, faint perfume and something indistinctly him. then you felt his hand resting on your waist, his warmth seeping through your clothes. and you could swear your face was warming up.

you opened your eyes, confirming your suspicion, you were resting on him, god you felt so embarrassed. “viktor? i'm sorry, i-” you mumbled sleepily, but he quickly brushed it off with a “no need to apologize, it's okay, you are tired”, his hand dropping from your waist out of surprise to see you awake, “maybe you should wrap it up for the day” he suggests.

you nod, slowly distancing your body from his, and he almost misses it. “maybe i should” you murmur, rubbing your eyes with your hand, trying to shake half of that sleepy haze away.

and you don't even notice that viktor is watching you. his eyes focused on your face, your cheeks looking a bit puffy, cute, even if he'd never mention it. his hand moved without his intent, holding your wrist, “you're feeling well?” he asked, sounding gentle, his accent thick, making your sleepiness almost dissipate by how fast he put your heart to race.

and he was feeling it, by holding your wrist he could feel your pulse picking up. not that he would mention.

“i'm fine i just... couldn't sleep tonight and i got a bit exhausted, i guess” you answered honestly, trying to not focus on his hold on your wrist.

he finally noticed he was holding your wrist so he dropped it. a little embarrassed himself by his actions. why was he acting like that? and before he could think it through he offered, “you can... continue, to sleep here... if it helps” what meant sleeping on him. but he didn't bring himself to say it out loud.

you looked at him a bit confused, and you were confused. what did he mean by that? sleeping in the lab? that was always uncomfortable, even if you couldn't seem to get some real sleep in your bedroom.

but before you could question further he gently pulled you closer, giving you the chance to put some distance between you again if you wanted to. he rested your head on his shoulder again, not saying anything about it, though.

you didn't know what to say either, your heart beating on your ears, loud, so loud that you could bet viktor was hearing it too.

and just when you thought you couldn't get more flustered, he searched for your wrist again, looking right at your eyes, searching for consent. that you understood the meaning. and you just nodded.

he entwined your fingers, a small, faint smile resting on his lips.

and you smiled too, and everything seemed right in the world in that stolen moment of peace.

[clementines-valt]

arcane women nsfw headcanons

(vi, caitlyn, sevika, ambessa)

cw: 18+, overstimulation, brief mention of bdsm, choking, spit, i talk about both topping and bottoming with each characters.

vi:

when topping: eats it for her own pleasure: meaning she can have her face buried in between your thighs for hours and hours on end, pushing you back down onto the bed whenever you’d try lift yourself up and get away from the onslaught of overwhelming pleasure. service top when she’s in a good mood, sure — she’d be obsessed with your sounds, the way your walls would flutter around her. it would be making love rather than sex: sweet and tender. but when she isn’t in a good mood? she’d be selfish and greedy. more focused on her own pleasure than yours. her stroke game would be Crazy… ?!?? fast and rough as fuck. like let us breathe, damn!

when bottoming: a shameless MOANER!!! vocal as fuck obviously. she drools, whining in frustration when she doesn’t get what she wants. loves to arch her back. she’d have sensitive ass nipple piercings that would drive her insane if you touched them, crying out if you’d flick your tongue against them. pants like a bitch and breathlessly begs to cum hehehehe

caitlyn:

when topping: would treat you as if you were a fucking science experiment, meaning she’d explore what would stimulate you the most and push you to extreme lengths to see what would truly break you. murmuring ‘ah…’s and humming to herself in fascination when she clocks your reactions, what would make you squirm and twitch like crazy. she’d be pretty cruel, not giving a fuck if you’d start crying. a little ‘poor baby’ would suffice. a freakaleek…. bdsm would go WILDDDD with her, and you wouldn’t expect it too; the way she carries herself so humbly in public.

when bottoming: heavy breather until you’re, like, three rounds in… that’s when the whining and the drawled moans and whimpers start to come out full throttle. power bottom, would communicate if she wanted you to keep doing what you’re doing. “just like that, don’t stop…” would lace her fingers through your hair if you were eating her out, gripping it tightly if the pleasure was truly messing her uppppp! not only your hair, her hands would find purchase in anything to hold on to if you were fucking her good, good.

sevika:

when topping: ohhh this bitch likes to taunt… i mean, taunt taunt you. she’s so teasing, laughing at the helpless look on your face. she’d force you to look up at her, make eye contact as she’s fucking you senseless. would play coy when she’d stop just as you were on the brink of releasing, “oh? is something wrong?” would gently yet patronisingly shush you if you started to cry. oh my fucking god and the smearing??? she would spit on your already weeping pussy and spread it with her fingers, mixing it with your arousal. shit, she’d make you suck her fingers before smearing it all over your face, especially if your face was already wet with tears. she’d love squishing your face, giving it a playful shake whilst knowing you were on the brink of passing out. PET NAMES!!!! bunny, baby, princess, sweetheart would not fail to leave her lips. good at hiding how pathetic she really is, except when she’s eating the fuck out of your pussy, being so driven by your sounds and the way you taste that she’d cum without even being touched.

when bottoming: professional hip buckler. so fucking stupid. you’d see a completely different side to the sevika she usually presents herself as, being a needy and whining mess instead: eyes rolling to the back of her head. loves being overstimulated, babbling words like ‘yesyesyes’ that slur together. if you’d choke her, you’d be able to visibly see her brain kick down a few gears; the foggy eyes, arched eyebrows and slack jaw combo would be sososo cute :(( would nod along like a bobble-head to anything you’d tell or ask her to do, with her lil puppy eyes too. maybe a little bit of a masochist,,,,, shhhhhh

ambessa:

when topping: oh ambessa would know how to FUCK. it would be so easy for her to find your sweet spots, and she’d be vigilant like a hawk about it. she’d hit your g-spot consistently, her movements precise and efficient. she’d enjoy your shyness, your struggle with looking at her in the eye: finding it adorable. would talk you through your orgasm. sweet voice whispering praises in your ear as you teetered on the edge of a searing climax. your waist would be her favourite thing to hold on to, especially if she’s giving you back-shots. her lips would be rested in a satisfied smile throughout the entire thing.

when bottoming: hmmmmm i feel like bottoming would kind of be an extension to her topping, meaning she wouldn’t be a bottom 😭 ambessa is such a dominant, powerful character that it’s quite hard to imagine her as submissive. so she’d just let you pleasure her once in a while, praising you as you’d lap up her juices like a dog, fuelling you to do more. her moans would come from her throat, face falling a little if it felt a little too good.

a/n: fofmfhskejfnsjwjdnnwjw something small whilst i cook up a long abby fic. (i miss writing long story fics🙁) lmk ur nsfw headcanons ab these characters >3<