Kenny. Omg. Hear Me Out. Being Rick’s Stress Relief During The Alexandria Arc Of S5 😵‍💫 Like

Write it shitty, write it scared, write it without a clue but don't you be so spineless and have an AI write fanfic for you.

Really Rally posting PURE GOLD

jake lockley- mistress

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He swallows. “I’m sorry, mistress.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, but-“

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

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

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

“Louder,” you raise your voice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes look back up, hopeful.

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

“Mistress, I-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jake makes a noise of frustration.

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

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

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

Jake’s head shakes subtly.

“Tell me,” you order him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?” You ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You roll your eyes at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Obsessed with Soap’s stupid fucking nape and the fuzzy hair there. He probably gets yanked around by it all the time. It’s probably Ghost’s favourite place to slap. Probably the yummiest place to b..bite. He should cover it up, the whore. Wear exclusively turtlenecks from now on, otherwise i won’t be liable for mauling him

I heart you guys

It's so nice being on tumblr because you don't even have to make your own post but people would still follow you anyways if you're good at rebloging posts they like

10/10!!! OMG I WILL BE COMING BACK TO READ THIS🤭✋🏼😭

At the Emperor’s Word -Viktor x Reader x Jayce

Summary: Sneaking around the academy after hours sounds like a good idea right up until you get caught; then, it becomes a great idea.

Pairing: Dom!Viktor x Sub!Reader x Switch! Jayce

Word Count: 6K

Warning: Explicit (PwP)

Tags: Threesome, Kissing, Handjob, Voyeurism, Obedience Kink, Praise Kink, Slight Cuckolding, Edging, Degradation, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Masturbation, Voice Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Lap Sex, Light Punishment Kink, Big Dick Viktor, Pet Names, Begging, Slight Choking, Vaginal Sex, Teasing, Rough Sex

Notes: A little fashionably late, but here is my absolutely filthy piece in celebration of Viktor’s birthday 🎉!! Viktor, my dearest, thank you for being my beloved husband and the devoted father of our many children. Glorious ovulation everyone ✌️💕.

You try to stifle a chuckle.

“Jayce, we can't-”

He's warm, so warm. You always feel yourself melt under his touch.

“C'mon, just a minute…” he insists.

You can't help but giggle breathlessly as he brings your hand into his pants, a large hand wrapping your fingers around his already half-hard cock. His body presses yours against the workbench, the firm wood digging into your lower back. His other hand slides against the fabric of your skirt, cushioning the strain, and not so subtly placing his palm over your ass.

He nuzzles his face against the top of your head, letting out a pleased groan when your fist starts moving. You suppress another laugh, trying your best to remain quiet, but you're positively enamoured of those sounds he makes when you touch him. Without even seeing his face, you know the content smile hasn't left his lips; he's so easy to please.

He's twitching under your grip, gripping your cheeks to the rhythm of the strokes. You quicken the pace, and he lets out a low moan that echoes through the empty lab.

This wing of the academy is always empty at this time of night, but there's something exciting about having to stay quiet. You can feel how close he's getting, the slight rutting of his hips a now familiar sign. His breath hitches, he's almost there, just a little more-

“I hope I am not interrupting anything.”

You yelp in surprise, pulling out your hand from Jayce's pants so fast your arm hits the wooden desk behind you. Jayce lets out a confused, frustrated shout at the sudden loss of friction as you wince in pain.

There, at the entrance of the lab, stands a looming figure, holding one of the large doors partially open. The light from the corridor obscures his face from the darkness of the lab; but there is no mistaking who this silhouette belongs to.

Viktor makes a single step forward, the metallic sound of his crutch against the tiled floor making you wince, as he lets the door close behind him. The room falls into obscurity again, the pale glow of the moon and the distant city lights only faintly shining through the windows.

“Ah, Viktor!” Jayce almost bellows in an overly cheery tone, walking backwards to put some distance between the two of you. “I- We were waiting for you! Got a bunch of interesting notes about today's experiments to show you !”

Viktor's face is blank, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in cold annoyance. He is neither amused nor does he seem the believe Jayce's jovial act. He nods curtly at the other man's pants, which are obviously, painfully unbuttoned. Jayce cringes as he quickly stumbles to reattach them, sliding the buttons in the wrong slits. You're frozen in place, eyes wide in fear, incapable of looking away from Viktor's frigid expression. But his focus is not on you; it's on Jayce.

“So,” he starts loudly, not bothering with whispers, “You barely spend any time working in the lab anymore. You have not even checked any of the upgrades I have suggested for the hexgates in the last month.” His voice is apathetic and dry, and his eyes narrow when he says the next words:

“And this is what you've been up to?”

Jayce opens his mouth like he's ready to argue, but the glare from his work partner seems to change his mind. He lowers his head silently, like a puppy being scolded. Viktor's golden pupils slide to you, and you now understand exactly why Jayce prefers looking at the floor.

“From Jayce I could expect,” Viktor remarks, the weight of his stare making you shrink, “but from you? I'll admit I'm disappointed.”

You bow your head in embarrassment. Your cheeks are burning, and you know there's no way to pretend like this is only a misunderstanding. You wish you could vanish on the spot.

Jayce, always the hero, comes to your defence quickly: “Viktor, it wasn't her idea-”

“I'm so sorry sir,” you interrupt him, stepping forward. You know Viktor well enough to recognize he's not a fan of poor excuses or avoiding accountability. “I swear this internship means the world to me. I know how many other students dream of working on hextech. It won't ever happen again.”

He seems pleased by your answer, although his expression stays perfectly stoic.

“That's good to hear,” he hums, walking closer to the both of you. He stops a few feet away, a ray of moonlight passing through a coloured beaker catching in his auburn hair. It illuminates him in an eerie, reddish glow, like he's not quite human, almost a phantom. “Well then, do not let me stop the both of you. Keep going, as you were.”

You have to assume he's joking, even if his tone sounds anything but, and you let out a confused, nervous giggle. But he isn't laughing, and neither is Jayce.

“Viktor…” there's uncertainty in the taller man's voice. It's not fear, or alarm, but he's apprehensive about something.

Viktor lets out a small sigh of lassitude, discontent evident. He looks at you again, with these amber eyes that make you feel like the world around you vanishes. Like there's nothing but him, and the words about to leave his lips.

“It would appear my partner is suddenly hard of hearing. Were my instructions unclear to you as well?”

You swallow. Your lips feel dry. Jayce is still unmoving next to you, still as a board, watching your interaction with his lab partner with an uneasy look.

“…No sir,” you mutter, just loudly enough for both men to hear. Viktor gives you the shadow of a smile.

“C'mon Viktor, you've humiliated her enough,” Jayce argues softly, raising his hand in a gesture of peace. But the other man has clearly decided Jayce hasn't gained his favour for the night, barely sparing him an icy glare.

“I do not believe I was talking to you,” he states matter-of-factly. The man of progress makes a strangled sound of protest, clearly insulted, but Viktor seems to have all but forgotten about him, now. It's back to only you and him, and the teasing smile dancing on his lips.

“He's always like this. Begging for attention,” Viktor tells you in a tone of confidence, like the topic of the conversation isn't standing less than a foot away from you with a baffled look on his face. “One has to wonder if he is compensating for something, but I figure you are in a good position to tell, right?”

You can’t prevent the corners of your mouth from lifting at the underhanded jab; Viktor seems emboldened by your reaction, voice louder when he continues:

“I certainly hope he's been more of a gentleman to you than this. Or does he only bend you over in our lab like an animal?”

The comment is enough to pull Jayce out of his stupor, and he raises his arms in protest.

“Hey, I'm not that-” he starts heatedly.

“Jayce.”

It's just his name; nothing else. You've said it to him hundreds of times. But there's something different in the way Viktor says it, the slow pronunciation of the syllables, the hardness of the accent, the deepness of the voice. Whatever it is, Jayce is compelled by it just as much as an order. He stops right in his tracks, his arms falling uselessly back to his side, like a dog listening to a command.

Viktor hums in approval, but his stare is no less punishing.

“I was not talking to you. When it is your turn to speak, you will know.”

Jayce's mouth is slightly agape, his eyes wide, an expression you can't quite read on his face; but he obeys. He stands there like a puppet, unmoving, drinking Viktor's words. You can't help but notice the still present strain in his badly buttoned pants.

The thinner man's gaze softens once more as it falls on you. He makes another step forward; close enough that you could reach him with your hand if you tried. He looks at you encouragingly: “Answer the question, sweet thing.”

The room feels like it's shrunk to barely a tenth of its size. Your breath has become shallow without you noticing. But isn't quite from fear anymore.

“T-twice in the lab before,” you stutter, the embarrassment of recounting your adventures to your direct supervisor burning your cheeks. The arousal in the air is undeniable now, and he's visibly aware of it. “And in the library. Once in my bedroom.”

Viktor hums pensively, studying your answer. It almost feels like you're passing some kind of final exam; the world's most sexually charged exam, undoubtedly.

“So he is aware of the basic notion of privacy behind closed doors, then,” Viktor concludes, the thin smirk now fully on display. “Who would have thought.”

He doesn't look away from your eyes when he finally speaks to the other man again.

“Jayce. How close are you?”

You glance at the taller engineer; he's started palming himself through his pants, his breathing irregular. His hair is dishevelled from your previous activities, and his cheeks are a bright crimson against his caramel skin. He's usually so dominating, on top of things, handling you like a chiffon doll up and down his dick with that cocky smile of his. You've never seen him like this; flustered, desperate, seeming so small despite all of his stature.

“Pretty close,” Jayce almost moans out, voice raspy for exertion. He's biting his own bottom lip so tightly it might start bleeding. “Just a little more.”

Viktor finally gives him a slight smile, though it's dripping with self-satisfaction. He's close enough to you that you can smell him now, that you could brush away the wayward strands of hair on his forehead. His face has been marked by the passage of time and countless hours of work, heavy bags under his eyes, cheeks almost gaudy. And yet, there is no sign of him ever losing control of this moment. Nothing could change the hypnotic power of his eyes, the controlling tone of his voice, or the subjugating effect of his slightly crooked smile.

“I suppose we should oblige,” he suggests lightly, his free hand brushing your cheek. His fingers are thin and lithe, cold against your skin, and you lean into the touch. He gives you a moment to pull away, if you want to; but you don't.

The kiss is slow at first, gentle, just the way little girls dream their prince charming might one day give them. He lets you decide when to pick up the speed, and you initiate after a few seconds by slipping your tongue in his mouth. It's messier, now, teeth clashing every now and then, saliva pooling where your lips meet. He tastes nothing like Jayce, his flavour of dark coffee and fresh mint; Viktor is sweet, like milk and honey, like a slice of lemon cake in the summer heat.

When he pulls away for air, you feel like time has started to move once again, as if you've just emerged from a dream. He's smirking confidently, still, but not entirely unfazed; his pale cheeks have turned pink, his breathing is slightly laboured, and there are traces of smudged saliva on the corners of his mouth.

A foreign whine makes you both turn towards Jayce, who is clearly on the edge of orgasm. He's abandoned any pretence of innocence, his cock fully pulled out of his pants as he rubs it furiously, eyes locked on the two of you.

“Stop,” Viktor only says.

Jayce groans in frantic frustration, slowing his rhythm but incapable of removing his hand. He's harder than you've ever seen him, his tip almost a painful red.

“No, no, c'mon V, don't do this. Please keep going,” he begs, looking at you with pitiful eyes, pleading silently. You want to touch him, to let him touch himself. But you know it's not your decision; it's Viktor's. And he's made his ruling, so you're not about to get on your research director's bad side again.

The head engineer offers a proud smile at your lack of answer to Jayce, the kind he usually reserves for reports submitted in advance or ingenious schematics. You recognize him more like this, strict, but never unappreciative of your efforts. He never forgets to slip a word of encouragement when you're stuck, never hesitates to reread your notes with you when the math isn't quite adding up. The cold anger seems to have fully passed, and now only the teasing, taunting satisfaction remains.

“I believe you may have forgotten that as per her contract, she is my assistant. Meaning she is under my direct command.”

He's looking at Jayce now, whose hand is still wrapped around his length, but unmoving. His cock is twitching in his grasp, desperate as the rest of him. His whole body shifts to the rhythm of his respiration, large shoulders slumped in defeat. Viktor doesn't turn to you when he asks you the following question, choosing instead to stare deeply into Jayce's citrine eyes.

“Is that not correct?”

You don't hesitate with your answer this time.

“Yes sir.”

His focus is still on the other man, but he strokes your cheek again with his left hand. He rests his weight comfortably on his crutch, like he doesn't have a single worry in the world in this moment.

“Good girl.”

You feel yourself tighten at that. That voice could tell you to find a way to harness the power of the goddamn stars before figuring out the hexcore, and you would comply.

“Jayce, could you bring the chair over here? The larger one.”

Viktor points with his chin towards a wooden chair with a flat backing, in a corner of the lab. Jayce looks back and forth between the chair and his partner, like he's unsure if he's joking or testing him. When no additional directions come from Viktor, he sighs in discomfort, clearly disgruntled, unceremoniously shoving himself back in his pants to go fetch the chair. The thinner man hums in appreciation when he brings it back and places it next to him.

“Thank you, Jayce.”

He sits, using his crutch for balance as he shifts slightly to find a comfortable position. His hand leaves the burgundy handgrip, instead settling on the metallic upper section. He looks like the king of a forgotten kingdom, resting on his wooden throne, sceptre in hand. You and Jayce, his obedient consorts, can't do anything but await his next command.

It comes in the form of a simple motion of his hand, beckoning you closer. You only stop when your legs bump against his, standing above him. His fingers caress the fabric of your skirt studyingly, like he's committing the feel to memory. They eventually catch on the waistband, tugging it questioningly. His golden eyes look up at you, the colour of the sunrise etched in his pupils. You nod earnestly in approval, and he lowers the skirt down until it reaches your knees, letting it fall to the floor. You're suddenly very thankful you dressed up this morning knowing you would see Jayce.

The design is simple, a line of flowery lace hugging your hips, and curving to the shape of your ass. It's the kind of thing Jayce loves; he'll even make you keep your panties on sometimes as he fucks you, just pushing the bottom of the fabric to the side to fit himself inside you. It's the lace he can’t resist, you think, the way it barely covers anything and rests against your skin like a present for him to unwrap.

It doesn’t seem to have the same effect on Viktor, but you can tell he’s still appreciative, cold hand sneaking under the lace to squeeze a cheek firmly.

“This is fucking torture,” Jayce groans in complaint, standing still just barely a few feet away. He's obviously aware he's not supposed to interfere with the two of you, or to touch himself for relief, but the glistening sweat on his forehead and down the prominent vein on his neck indicates how difficult this is for him.

“And you should know better than to have sex next to a table covered in explosive materials and one-of-a-kind prototypes,” Viktor retorts, sparing him a slightly displeased glance. “What if you had broken something irreplaceable?”

Jayce seems genuinely embarrassed by that; he may not show it as often these days with how busy he is, but you know he still cares about the academy's research and the state of hextech.

“I'm sorry Viktor. I wasn't thinking…”

“I am aware you were not thinking. And that is exactly the issue. You forget how much of our profession relies on thinking, not talking.”

It's crystal clear that's going to be the end of the conversation, for now. Viktor's fingers slide to your hip, following the shape of the panties until your inner thigh. A small tap with a single digit tells him everything he needs to know.

“Look at this,” he smiles, taunting but affectionate, “Already so wet just from a kiss. Or was it the sound of my voice that did it, I wonder.”

Both, it's both, and every single thing that has happened in this lab since he entered it. You tremble when his finger moves slowly against the damp fabric, not quite oversensitive, but a little on edge.

“I, um-” Jayce hesitantly speaks up from the side. “I fingered her a bit earlier. I… think she should be alright?”

This time, Viktor doesn't reprimand him for talking; he seems surprisingly pleased, eyes boring into yours for confirmation.

“Is that so?” he exhales softly.

You nod breathlessly. Why is it always so difficult to talk when he's studying you like this?

The teasing finger slips under the fabric, gently making its way into you. You let out an involuntary sound of eagerness as he verifies if you've been loosened up, analyzing you with the precision of a machine. He removes the digit with a crooked grin when he judges you've passed, and you whine at the loss; it was barely anything in the first place, but it soothed the feeling of total emptiness in your core.

“Color me impressed,” Viktor declares, half genuine, half mocking. “I do not think I have ever seen Jayce do his work in advance.”

Said man groans in defeated complaint:

“You're turning her against me.”

Viktor lets out a wry snort:

“You do that well enough on your own. You touched her without even making her cum?”

He pats your pussy comfortingly, and you almost sing to the feeling. Your panties get lowered swiftly, and you discard them with little decorum. Viktor's assertive expression has softened enough that you feel emboldened enough to try to join in the banter:

“Jayce thinks foreplay is watching him get undressed. He's not exactly an expert.”

Viktor laughs at that, a charming and genuine sound, and you feel yourself glow with pride. The topic of mockery doesn't seem as pleased, his cheeks red, his lips thin:

“See? Told you. You've already worked your fucking magic on her.”

Viktor starts unbuttoning his pants, the teasing smile still etched on his angular features. His fingers work nimbly, swiftly, with the precision only the best engineer in Runeterra could muster in such circumstances.

“It is not magic, Jayce. Simply talent and practice.”

He does quick work of lowering his pants, just enough to expose his underwear. The confirmation that he is indeed not as unbothered as he still may seem is poking through the fabric. Judging by the defined outline and the sizeable tent, you can instantly confirm a hypothesis you've had since the start of your internship: the Assistant to the Dean of the Academy is packing.

He's not unaware of it either; his golden eyes follow the movement of your own, playfully examining your reaction. It's different from Jayce's endearing ego and constant need for praise; Viktor knows his worth, but he revels in the admiration, the stares filled with awe and devotion.

If Jayce needs to feel worthy, then Viktor needs to feel wanted.

He finally frees his cock from the restrive fabric, letting the member bob slightly. He's not even fully hard, and he's huge, the length imposing, the bulbous tip a pleasant shade of pink. The skin is as pale as the rest of him, blueish veins marking it like porcelain; only a few well-trimmed auburn curls at the base remind you he's not sculpted from actual marble.

Jayce lets out a low, tentatively playful whistle as the other man’s slender fingers wrap around the shaft.

“Flattery will not get you far, Jayce,” Viktor comments absentmindedly. “You and I both know this is nothing you have not seen before.”

He moves his hand in an open, loose fist, evidently without any real intent to finish himself off; not with the way he's made you stand right above him, not with how he's looking right at you. You swallow with difficulty, licking your lips for moisture. The energy between the two of you is tangible, electric, as he keeps working himself tantalizingly slow.

“Darling. Sweet thing. Do you want this?”

You nod vigorously, the words stuck in your throat again.

“Tell me, then. Please. Tell me how much you want this,” he requests, and it's hard to tell whether that's an order or a plea with the way his voice lowers, just barely louder than a whisper.

You feel like you're high, your mind a jumbled mess of adrenaline and lust. There are no sentences that could possibly express how he's got you under his spell. How many times have you imagined a scene like this, in only a year of being his assistant? The stolen glances, the passing touches, you had no reason to believe they were anything more than figments of your lustful imagination. The very idea that he could be the one doubting your interest in him is laughable, and yet his gaze is probing you for a response, his lips parted with bated breath.

“I want this. I want you,” you swear to him, staring back so deeply into the amber irises there could not be a single question left. “Please, sir.”

You bring a hand to the crook of his neck; the coolness of the skin under your palm, the sharpness of his collarbone against your fingertips, the beating of his heart below your thumb. He has to know this is real.

Viktor smiles slightly, the little mole above his lips shifting alongside his dimples.

“I would ask you to be weary of my right leg, then. It is not quite as strong as it used to be, although that is not saying much.”

You've never seen the emotion that crosses Viktor's face in that moment, gone in under a second. It's so subtle one might have missed it; bitterness, regret, defeat. The tragedy of a man brilliant enough to change the whole world, but who wouldn't live long enough to see it. If Janna truly watches over the lost children of Zaun, then she is turning a blind eye to the brightest of them all.

You could say something, try and comfort him, but you choose not to. There's nothing that can be said to change things; there’s only the present, and there are only actions.

You sink down on him slowly, the both of you moaning in unison. You can't help the array of whines escaping your pinched lips. The heat from where your bodies meet is overwhelming, the stretch delightful and filling. He's not fully inside you and you're already wondering how much more you can take. It's dizzying, the pain making you grit your teeth, but you persist, fingers clenching on the back of the chair. When you've fully bottomed out, you let out a shaky breath you hadn't realized you were holding. Viktor soothingly pats your back, and you hang on to him for dear life, wrapping both arms around his back.

“Are you alright?” he whispers softly, worry evident in his voice. You want to answer, but you're quite certain if you open your mouth you'll only get confused gibberish out, because fuck, he's filling you so much it's hard to even think. You shift your grip to his shoulder blades, trying to anchor yourself, absentmindedly noticing the cool feeling of metal under his uniform. You trace the intricate patterns with your fingers to ground yourself, recognizing the shapes of bolts and screws, as you feel your breathing slowly even out

“I’m ok,” you eventually manage to exhale. “I just- need a second“

Viktor makes an understanding hum, his hand caressing the valley of your back like you're doing with his, his strokes mellow. He moves his head slightly to look at Jayce behind you, throwing him an irritated glare.

“So much for your preparations,” he points out with irony.

Without needing to see him, you know exactly the kind of disgruntled face Jayce is making: “She only needs three to fit me, you're just stupid big.”

“I can move,” you interrupt them, the pain now only a vague tingle; all that remains is the yearning for him.

You place both hands on the back of the chair to balance your weight, being careful of Viktor's weaker leg. You bring yourself up slowly, tantalizingly, before letting yourself fall back on his length. There's no other way to describe the broken moan you release than dirty.

“Eh,” Viktor remarks slyly, groaning when you start moving again. “S-she does not seem to think it’s stupid.”

You fuck yourself on him with abandon, fast, rough, not caring of how debauched you may look. If anything, Jayce seems very appreciative if his moans and curses are any indication.

“Fuck, baby,” he pants somewhere behind you, too far to feel his warmth, but close enough to hear he's pumping himself to the same rhythm you're riding Viktor. “You're doing such a good job taking him, princess…”

He's truly begging when he calls the other man's name again, delirious from the unending edging:

“V, please, make her turn to my side, I have to see her face.”

Viktor's hooded eyes bare into yours, his raspy pants echoing through your head as you thrust up and down his length.

“Do you think he is truly sorry, now?” he asks, the ever-teasing glimmer in his pupils shining despite the clear physical effort from his body.

You can't even remember what Jayce has to be sorry for; you whimper a positive ‘huh-uh’. Viktor nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck for a moment, gently bitting the sweaty skin in a surprising hint of possessiveness, but he does finally agree to free Jayce of his torture.

“I will trust your good judgment. You can come here, Jayce.”

You yelp in surprise when two strong but familiar hands suddenly grab you at the waist and turn you around, almost pulling you off Viktor's cock and into a messy kiss. The slight tickle of Jayce's stubble is pleasantly itchy, his tongue desperately searching for more of your taste. You moan wantonly against his mouth when you feel Viktor twitch inside you, but the man under you doesn't seem fully pleased: a thinner but firm hand brings you back against his chest, and he throws Jayce an irritated glare.

“I give you an inch and you take a mile. Typical,” the older man accuses him with a bitter tone, his accent more pronounced, rigid. “You do not get to touch, and you are only allowed to cum on her.”

His lips come to your ear in the ghost of a kiss, velvety smooth:

“Would that be agreeable to you, sweet thing?”

You just know you want to keep going, really; so you do exactly that as a reply.

This position is harder for movement, since without the support of the chair’s back, you would have to rely on putting pressure on Viktor's knees. Thankfully, with Jayce’s proximity, you can use his muscled chest for balance. He certainly doesn't mind being used like this if the expression he’s wearing is any sign: his entire face is crimson, his eyes heavy, laboured breaths escaping his abused lips. He's still following your pace, pumping up and down every time your ass meets Viktor's hip bones. It has to be painful by now, with the way he's been rubbing himself raw for so long without release, but he's either too entranced to care or getting off the burning friction

“So obedient,” Viktor praises you, his free hand moving to your lower stomach, long fingers digging gently into your skin; you wonder if he’s trying to feel himself move inside you. “We might still be able to make a top student out of you. What do you think, Jayce?”

Much like yourself, Jayce seems beyond the capacity for words. He's looking at you like he wants to devour you, like he wants to take you off Viktor's lap and fuck you right on the floor. But you both know he wouldn't do that without Viktor's approval, at the risk of getting on the other man’s bad side again.

Viktor's cock hits a peculiarly sensitive spot inside you and you cry out from the sudden shock, loling out your tongue involuntarily. Jayc makes a strangled sound at the sight, and it visibly takes all his self-control to not shove himself into the warmth of your throat.

“For once, I cannot get you to talk when I actually want you to,” Viktor tsks in disapproval, but it's clear he's not frustrated; rather, he seems to enjoy the trance-like silence Jayce has been reduced to.

“F-fuck, I think this is the hottest thing I've ever seen,” the younger man sputters, delirious, his fist moving with a frenzied pace. “I can see your cock in and out of her every time she bounces like that. Her tits look so good…”

You recognize that slight pitch in his voice, the rumbling in his throat; he's close again.

“What else?” Viktor hums, not letting him have a moment of respite. You can hear ragged gasps next to your ear, parts of heaved curses indicating he too is nearing his end, but he's still firmly insistent on being the one in control of it all.

Jayce whines in struggle, but it's hard to hear with how loud the sound of your own moans echo in the room. You've been using Viktor's cock to hit that one spot over and over, chasing your high without restraint, the familiar clenching of your walls maddening.

“She looks all fucked out. Like she -fuck- like she's so close to cumming around you…”

The other man seems pleased by that if the way you feel him twitch inside you is evidence. “Good observations,” he replies in playful irony. “Perhaps there is still a scientist in there.”

The hand on your stomach leaves its comfortable position to wrap around your neck, the pressure light, just barely restricting airflow.

“Sweet thing,” he calls out to you once more. “You can pick up the pace a little. I want you to never look away from Mr Talis's eyes.”

It's a hard request to fulfill considering how badly you want to squint your eyes shut in the agonizing pleasure; but you try your very best, unshed tears of exhaustion starting to pool and blurying your vision.

The sight of you so desperately trying to obey Viktor's order to focus on nothing but him is what finally undoes Jayce, who lets out one final loud curse:

“Shit-!”

He cums all over your academy blouse with a shout, little droplets reaching as high as your chin. It barely takes three more thrusts against Viktor for you to join him, crying tears of relief as an intense wave of bliss rocks your entire body. With your limbs reduced to nothing but putty, your head falls forward in exhaustion, thankfully stopped by Jayce's strong torso; the fabric of his dress shirt feels like satin against your face, burying your sobs.

Viktor takes a moment longer to reach his peak, fucking into your exhausted body with concentration, thick eyebrows furrowed. It's too much, too rough, and you throw your head back to whine against his neck pitifully. He mutters something unintelligible under his breath before he finally unloads into you with a long groan.

“Shh, good girl,” he compliments you soothingly as his warmth settles into your core, kissing your neck leisurely in praise. “You have done so well.”

He bends your head back slightly more to catch your mouth in an open-mouth kiss, slow and tired, sloppy from your mutual exhaustion. Jayce groans, his hand somehow still on his softened cock, pumping it lazily; his stamina is utterly unbelievable.

“Okay, actually, this might be the hottest thing I've ever seen,” he comments hoarsely, absorbing the way your tongue dances with Viktor's with every inch of his capacities.

Viktor concludes the wet kiss with a small peck on your lips, smiling as your head falls back on his shoulder in fatigue, your eyes shut close.

“Because you managed to get yourself all over her?” he throws back at Jayce, as calm and confident as if he hadn't just made you go through the most intense orgasm of your life. “Your ego will never cease to impress me.”

The stars behind your eyelids are still spinning; you weakly try to move an arm, finding it almost completely unresponsive.

“Sir?” you ask, and you almost don't recognize your voice with how rough and broken it resonates in the empty lab.

“I think we have reached the point where you are allowed to call me by my name in private,” Viktor amusedly hums close to you.

“Viktor, I…”

You want to open your eyes, to look into his golden eyes again and see the way he looks right after sex, but they're sealed shut from how worn out you are. “…I don't think I can move right away.”

That earns you a content chuckle from one man and a disbelieving laugh from the other.

“Jayce,” Viktor asks, now with a tone of request rather than command, “be a gentleman for once and carry her to her bedroom. The poor thing is exhausted.”

Jayce snorts, for once tonight the one hitting back with irony:

“And whose fault is that?”

Viktor’s fingers, still loosely wrapped around your throat as lightly as feathers, slide down to massage the tender muscles at the base of your nape. You moan brokenly into the touch. You couldn't move even if you wanted to.

“Undeniably yours. I am not the one sneaking around in the academy for nefarious purposes,” Viktor retorts playfully, tiredness noticeable but skillfully hidden in his voice. “But if you were to have a bad idea like this once more… I believe I can offer you my services as her supervisor. For both your sakes.”

prettying him up in the shower so he smells like warm vanilla and honey, then wrapping him in a fluffy towel and combing mousse through his long hair so when i dry it, it ends up so curly and soft. i massage lotion into his hands to keep them soft, and file down his nails.

by the end of it, he looks so good that i can’t help but pin him down on the bed and undo all my work by leaving him a sweaty, exhausted, fucked-out mess.

EATING WELL TONIGHTTT

john who’s married to reader, who’s very comfortable in her home. even when the boys are staying…

the first time they came over and you did it, it shocked them to their fucking core. everything had seemed normal up until this point. you greeted them all with a hug, a kiss for your husband, and seat them all in the kitchen. beers and dinner placed in front of then within the next couple of minutes. what a sweetie…

you planted yourself on john’s lap, your plate next to his at the head of the table. your serving already dished up by your husband whilst you took care of his men. he feeds you from his fingers every once in a while, no one says a word when you suck his fingers after, cleaning them up with your tongue. that wasn’t even the craziest part…

no, it was the next morning when they were all sat at the dinner table again. john at the stove frying up bacon, eggs and all the fixings for a full english whilst you take your morning shower. everyone turns their head to greet you when they hear your feet padding down the stairs, only to shoot out their heads when you come prancing in, naked as the day you were born

except for john, who presses a kiss to the top of your head when you grab your coffee (already made by your husband) off the counter. simon, soap and kyle on the other hand, don’t know whether it’s acceptable to look at you right now, or if their captain expects them to avert their eyes for a minute

but then john sits at the table, same place as the night before. and then you sit at the table, also the same place as the night before. stark naked for all the lads to gape it. johnny’s eyes flicking between your tits and your husband, waiting for him to wake up from what must be a wet dream

but you pay no mind to the men gawking at the scene in front of him, your damp skin glistening as you sit on john’s thigh and chow down on your toast. your husband couldn’t care less about your state of dress as he reads through the morning paper, arm hooked around your hips and thumb grazing just below your belly button…

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

Loveee sub jayce 😋😋

Mirror Sex Jayce Talis x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1067

Enjoy!

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

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

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