#wrote this at 2 in the morning on a whim

[leeeeeeeeech]

Desperate Measures

( Beej is attempting to haunt a pretty boring breather. Unfortunately for him, they are very dumb. He gets frustrated, hilarity ensues.)

For years, my life has followed a monotonous routine. Wake up, go to work, come home, eat, and then repeat it all over again. It's not a particularly exciting life, but it is mine, and I have grown accustomed to its predictability. However, recently, strange occurrences had begun to disrupt this routine.

One morning, while preparing my usual breakfast of toast and eggs, I experienced something bizarre. My old toaster, which had seen better days, suddenly acted as if it had received an upgrade from a sci-fi movie. It hummed and sputtered, and to my amazement, two slices of toast levitated out of it. They hung in mid-air, their once white surfaces now blackened and smoking. I found myself staring in disbelief, my outstretched hand halted just inches from the hovering toast. As quickly as they had risen, the slices dropped to the counter with a thud.

Weird.

Shaken by the strange event, I decided to write it off as a momentary lapse of sanity. Maybe I was more tired than I thought? I shrugged, ate the burnt toast, and continued with my day.

My next task was grocery shopping, the highlight of today's events. I stepped into my car, which had seen better days, much like my toaster, and started the engine. As I drove, I couldn't help but notice a peculiar vehicle in my rearview mirror—a neon green Volkswagen Beetle with bold black stripes. It was a distraction waiting to happen, and I couldn't fathom why someone would drive such a garish car.

Arriving at the grocery store, I grabbed a shopping cart without much thought. But as I gripped the cart's handle, something caught my eye. The metal bar at the front, which had always been plain and unremarkable, now bore black stripes, just like the Beetle. And etched into the metal were two initials, "BJ."

Okay, can't write this one off as a coincidence. The letters were a strange choice, and I tried not to think about the obvious acronym those letters could stand for. I tried my best to remain calm and finish up my shopping.

After I checked out and drove home, the evening was back to its monotonous self. I prepared dinner for one, and sat down in the living room to watch a show. As soon as the TV flicked on, it was already on a TV show I didn't recognize. A green-haired man stood alone on a completely white set. He wore a strange suit with the same bold stripes I've been seeing all day. Just as I reached for the remote, the man started to speak.

"Is there something strange in your neighborhood? Something weird that you can't explain?" There was a very long pause, and for a moment it felt like the man was looking straight at me.

"Who should you call? Well me of course! Just call this number below!"

I stared at the screen. It felt like all the strange events of the day were converging. I watched as the man on the TV grinned, showing unnaturally sharp teeth as the number flashed across the screen.

"This isn't just a commercial, is it?" I question aloud, my voice practically quivering. I gasped as the man on the screen winked in response. His dark eyes twinkled with an other-worldly mischief that sent shivers down my spine.

In a panic I decided to turn off the TV and just go to bed. This was all way too strange for my liking, and I needed a break from the bizarre events that had unfolded throughout the day. Maybe a good night's rest would help me regain my grip on reality.

As I headed to my bedroom, my steps sluggish and my mind still racing, I could hear the TV flick back on. I froze in my tracks, my heart pounding as the familiar commercial continued to play. It was as if the man's voice refused to be silenced.

"OH COME ON!" His voice boomed from the living room, a mixture of frustration and desperation.

I clenched my fists, my patience wearing thin. This was beyond anything I had ever encountered. I wanted nothing more than to escape this unsettling situation, but it seemed that the situation had other plans.

"I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR MEEEE." The voice grew louder, more insistent, echoing through the house.

I walked back into the living room, and stared the man down.

"What do you want?" I asked, my voice quivering with a mixture of fear and frustration. I just wanted this nightmare to be done with, to return to the life I had known, where toasters toasted bread and commercials were just commercials.

The man on the TV remained silent for a beat, his dark eyes locked onto mine, unblinking. It was as if he could see into the depths of my soul.

And then, his voice emanated from the TV once more, a sly, almost seductive tone. "Just say my name."

I blinked, disbelief washing over me. "What?" I stammered, my mind reeling. Now, I was certain that this had to be a dream, a bizarre and twisted dream that I desperately wanted to wake up from.

The man's lips curled into a mischievous grin, and he leaned in closer to the screen. "Say my name," he repeated, his words carrying a weight of anticipation.

---------

This is already pretty long, so I'll make a part two!

[treatmelikeasmut]

For Your Pleasure

This is going to be part of a series! Find the Master List HERE!

Pairing: Viktor x Fem!Reader x Jayce

CW: P in V, oral (fem receiving), creampie, cuckolding, threesome (sort of?), pet names, praise, masturbation, hair pulling, fingering, smut, angst, Viktor being a sad boi, Jayce being voyeuristic, competitive, and a little jealous.

Synopsis: Viktor is concerned about his performance in the bedroom. He’s worried he isn’t leaving you satisfied enough. So he calls in a favor from Jayce.

Word Count: 12k

Author’s Note: This was written on a whim. I have also never written for Viktor or Jayce before. But I tried my best.

Edit 4/2/25 - I was not pleased with the quality of my work. So I wrote a second draft. I think the landing stuck better. It's a bit more angsty, and little more smutty. It went from 7k to 12k words, if that says anything.

Remember to like and reblog your favorite fics , and follow your favorite authors❤️

~*~*~

There was something wrong with Viktor. 

All week he’d been acting distant, almost agitated. Mumbling to himself when he thought you couldn’t hear. Giving you the saddest eyes when he thought you weren’t looking. Flinching away from your touch like it burned him. He insisted he was fine when you asked him about it. He picked at his food, laid rolled away from you - even sleeping in the lab twice. Which he hadn’t done in a long time. When he was home, he’d pace back and forth across your small apartment. Each clink of his crutch went right through your head. Before he left in the mornings, he’d press a chaste kiss to your mouth - if there hastily given contact could even be considered that. You couldn’t figure out just what had changed.

Viktor had even begun to talk in his sleep. The first night he muttered too low to understand. He restlessly tossed and turned, wincing sometimes. A hand going to paw at his bad leg. The second night was more fervent, his body shaking. In the faint light from the window, you caught tears rolling down his face. You could only wonder what happened when he slept away from you. One thing was certain - his voice whining out your name like a prayer over and over was never going to leave your head. 

You didn’t ask Viktor about his dreams. A hard lump forming every time you thought of his desperate cries. You just wished he would talk to you. Even when you went to see him in the lab, he would act strange - distracted. You had started going early in your relationship to ensure he actually took time for himself. Jayce had poked fun at him for a while, but you could tell he was just glad someone was finally looking out for him.

Where before Viktor would turn in his chair at the mere movement of the door, eyes eagerly seeking you out - now he wouldn’t look at you. His left foot tapped impatiently against the floor. He probably could’ve stared a hole right through his papers. He wouldn’t come on a small stroll with you like he would before. You were only met with murmurs that there was work to be done and that he couldn’t be taken from it.

Jayce was acting oddly too. Almost as avoidant as Viktor. There was no cheery greeting. No poke about how Viktor was just talking about you. Hell, they were hardly looking at each other. You wondered if they’d gotten into a fight again and were avoiding each other like an old married couple. But then that had nothing to do with you. So it wouldn’t explain why it was so tense and quiet from the moment you set foot through the threshold.

You decided you’d give it until the end of the week. As the days wore on, a heaviness crept into your mind, into your belly, squeezing your lungs until you could hardly breathe. There just wasn’t enough room for it. You’d chewed the inside of your lip nearly bloody worrying at it so much. Your paintings had gone largely ignored. You wondered if Viktor had noticed, he usually did. But it was difficult to tell in this altered state.

The final day of your self-appointed deadline, Viktor came home well after the sun had taken its leave. You waited up for him, though a nagging edge in your mind had said he’d spent another night at the lab. He looked exhausted as he stumbled in. Somehow the bags under his eyes were more pronounced. Usually he’d give you a light scolding about being up so late. Teasing that you forced him to care for himself, so you needed to not be a hypocrite and do the same. Now he only glanced at you silently in his beeline for your bedroom. The sadness in those amber eyes was heavier tonight.

A hot sting settled into your guts as you trailed after him. Carpet absorbing the sound of your footsteps, the hallway almost seemed to tilt in your peripheral. Viktor was going to leave you, wasn’t he? Despite his pleading in his sleep. That had to be why he was being so distant. He was pulling away, mentally prepping to be alone, and preparing to break your heart. Jayce knew, it would make sense why he was also dancing around your presence. 

You’d always held a doubt in the back of your mind. A fear that one day he’d grow tired of you. You were so sure that eventually he’d seek out a life partner on the same intellectual level as him. That he’d grow tired of coming home to the smell of oil paint, solvent, and thinning oil. It wasn’t your fault that your brain wasn’t wired for science. It was barely wired for color theory.

You found Viktor perched on the edge of the bed, gripping his crutch as he stared blankly at the wall. His features were still pinched in the same dower expression he’d worn all week. He hadn’t bother to try changing into the clothes you’d laid out for him. You wondered if he’d let you help him. He looked so bone tired. Quietly, you stood in the doorway shifting foot to foot.

“It is late,” Viktor uttered flatly.

You nodded. “It is.”

He readjusted his grip on his crutch. His skin stretched milky white over the bone of his knuckles. “You should rest. You look tired.”

“I could say the same about you, love.” You paused, drawing in a deep breath. “Vik -”

Viktor’s eyes flashed to yours, his brows sinking deeper over them. The warm topaz still sent butterflies through your stomach. Just how long had it been since you called him by his name? It was always my love or honey or handsome - whatever pet name came to mind. You hadn’t called him Vik or Viktor in a very long time.

You heard the slightest shake in his voice as he asked, “Yes?”

“I -” How to even approach the subject? How did you start a conversation you really didn’t want to have? You weren’t ready to let him go. You also didn’t want to be alone again. You licked your dry lips and tried again. “Viktor, my love…Will you tell me - are you going to leave me?”

Viktor jerked up right at your words. Then flinched and ran a hand over his back. Finally, that expression he was wearing cracked. There was your golden eyed boy again. The life came back to him. He shifted his body to face you, leaning forward. Like he was ready to launch himself.

“What are you talking about?” Viktor couldn’t seem to get the words out quick enough.

“I’m not stupid,” you insisted.

Viktor frowned. “I have never thought you were.”

You tried not to let that comment make your heart flutter, but you couldn’t help it. You started to pace. “I may not be breaking the limits of science as we know it - but I have eyes.”

“Yes. And they’re very lovely.”

“I saw the signs all week, Vik, and I can’t take it anymore. Just tell me if you’re finally tired of me.”

A heavy silence stretched between you. Viktor’s eyes wide , almost childlike, and following as you trailed back and forth. Finally he covered his face with his hands and sighed.

“This is ridiculous,” he scoffed. The words spoken so softly you didn’t think they were for you. Finally, he rubbed his eyes then looked up at you. He patted the bed beside him, muttering, “Sit.”

You did as he asked, lowering yourself to the soft mattress beside him. Viktor scooched so that your legs were touching. Connected from hip to knee. This close, you noticed the tips of his ears beginning to tinge pink. The same color creeped up from the collar of his shirt. He loosened his tie with one hand.

“Viktor,” you started.

“Please.” Viktor shook his head. “Don’t call me by my name.”

“Honey?”

“I like that much better.” A small smile played at the corners of his mouth and then it was gone. He took a deep breath. “It’s time I finally told you…I’ve had a thought. It’s plagued me for longer than I would care to tell. It was fleeting at first. Just a seed. However, I find it’s been…present more than not of late.”

A heavy chill crept through your belly, lungs constricted painfully. You tried to keep a straight face, but your hands balled up tightly where they rested on your legs. Viktor noticed, scooping one into his and gripping it as firmly as possible. For once, his hands were warmer than yours.

“I’m not leaving you. - In fact…” Here, Viktor paused to draw in a breath. When he spoke, his voice was hardly above a whisper. Like the words were too painful to speak into being. “It’s been me who’s afraid you will tire of me and leave.”

His voice pleading for you to stay flickered through your mind.

“Please,” Viktor cried softly. 

He had slept in the lab the night before and came home looking absolutely haggard. You hadn’t slept much either. Now that you’d had a taste of domestic bliss you hated sleeping by yourself, being able to wake up to him in the morning was the best part of the day. Viktor was facing you now, eyes shut but you could see them moving rapidly beneath the thin lids. The corners of his mouth were pulled into a grimace, a crease folded between his brows. He laid only a few inches from you, even when he’d started off on the other side of the bed. His body curled in on itself. Shoulders quaking so much it shook the bed. 

“Please,” he whined again. “Don’t go…it’s dark here. And cold. It hurts. - My crutch, I can’t, I can’t find it. - Wait, please - I don’t want to be alone again.”

A knot tied in your throat, listening to his pleas. Tears blurred your vision. You put a hand on his cheek, it was soaked. Gently, you wiped away the tears there and leaned over to kiss his forehead, muttering softly that you weren’t going anywhere and that you loved him. He quieted, his own hand coming up to cover yours and press it harder against his flesh. 

He sighed out your name one last time. “Please leave me.”

“Why are you crying, my love?” he asked softly.

You sniffled, a tear rolling down your cheek. Every time you thought of that night you teared up. Viktor wiped it away with his thumb, leaning his forehead against yours.

“You’ve been talking in your sleep, and the things you say…what do you dream about?”

He hesitated. “Have I said something that made you upset?”

“You…” You tried to swallow past the lump in your throat. “You cry a lot. Ask me not to leave. And I…you’re just so sad. It makes me sad.”

“They aren’t dreams - they’re nightmares. Terrible, awful things…” Viktor squeezed your hand while squeezing his eyes shut. “Where I’m back in the Undercity, and you walk with me in the dark alleys. Then I fall and cannot pull myself back up. My body hurts, the ground is colder than ice, my cane is gone, and you keep walking. I try to follow, to crawl until my hands and knees are bloody. But you’re so much faster, and I can no longer see you. I’m left behind…again.”

“I, I would never…” you told him, voice watery. “Why would you think…?”

“They are just bad dreams. But I know they spawn from that fear.” The bashfulness took over Viktor’s face again, skin flushing crimson. “Because I can’t - that is, I’m unable to -” he cleared his throat “- I fear I will bore you. My leg, it keeps me from, eh…performing as I want.”

Performing? Viktor avoided your eyes now. You caught his free hand pulling at his pant seam. His leg…? The realization hit you swiftly. Oh! Ooohh… Several emotions swept through you at once. Part of you wanted to laugh, it’d all been a misunderstanding in the end. All this over sex. It hadn’t even been something that crossed your mind. Other emotions you couldn’t name washed over you. Just mashing together is a muddled mass that made your head swim.

“I would never - that’s not even -” There were too many things you wanted to say, so you settled for, “I love you.”

“And I love you.” Viktor smiled gently, bringing his hand to caress your face as he kissed your forehead. But it quickly dropped away, his eyes downcast. “That’s why it is a fear that lives with me. Recently, when we tried something new and I couldn’t…This fear built shame inside of me, and it made me push you away. For that, I’m deeply sorry.”

Now that you thought about it, there was one thing that had happened before all this. A little thing in your mind. Obviously not in his. 

You and Viktor were having some sexy time. Mouths clashing in hot need, clothes thrown around the apartment, hands roaming, and bodies melding together. One of the rare times he really let himself go, showing you a rougher, more aggressive side. It only peeked its head out on rare occasions. If Viktor was really pent up from stressful days in the lab, or if you two were having make-up sex after a fight. But it was there. A fire burning brightly behind his calm, playful exterior.

Viktor had you bent over the couch. Fingers pulsing deftly in and out of your swollen, sensitive folds. His thumb pressing on your clit, rubbing maddening circles around it. He’d already gone down on you three times. He said he was going for a personal record - four and he’d finally give you what you really wanted. Not that he hadn’t been denying himself. His cock thick and heavy, twitching, aching to be touched, and already dripping with precum. But he wouldn’t let you touch him. He wouldn’t even touch himself.

Your mind was a hot, foggy mess anyway. You couldn’t form words any more. Every nerve ending was a pinprick of ecstasy. Everytime Viktor brushed a hand over your skin, you shivered and moaned. Nothing felt real anymore. This was a feeling you loved. Getting fucked absolutely stupid. There was nothing else in the world but you, Viktor, and the sinful squelching noises of your arousal. 

“Hon,” your voice shook. It sounded so very far from you. “I can’t - I don’t think I -”

“Just one more for me, my dove,” he cooed, he pressed his length to the back of your thigh. “Please.”

He pressed his thumb just a little bit harder to your clit and that was it. You were pretty sure the sound that came out of you only dogs could hear. Your spent walls clenching and fluttering around his fingers. You were actually tearing up from just how good you felt.

Then there was a thud from behind you. You pushed yourself from the back of the couch and onto your shaking legs. Viktor was on the floor, glaring down at his bad leg. He’d taken his brace off when he took his pants off and never put it back on in his haste. 

“Are you okay?” you asked, crouching to his level.

He muttered something unintelligible. Then louder said, “I think I was standing for too long without the extra support.”

You started to stand, “I can go grab your brace -”

“No!” He stretched out an arm, reaching for you. “This is, I’ll be fine, please - help me to the couch.”

You supported his weight as you pulled him up, one arm slung over your shoulder with your hand around his waist. You lowered him to the cushion, double checking he was fine. Viktor assured you, rather snippily, that he was.

“As long as you're sure,” you muttered. 

“Come. Let us finish what we started, dove.” Viktor grabbed for your hips and pulled you to straddle him. You finished out your fun with you on top. You thought that been it. Just a small hiccup that was swiftly forgotten. It happened the day before he started acting weird.

“Love, that was really no big deal -” you insisted.

Despair soaked his voice. “It was to me.”

You put a finger under his chin, lifting his face to yours. But he still couldn’t bring his eyes to meet yours.

“I really don’t mind -” you started.

“I do. That’s why I decided to think of a way to please you. For you to be treated as you should, where you don’t have to do all the work.” Viktor turned his full attention to you as he announced, “I want you to have sex with Jayce.”

There was a rush of white noise that filled your ears. Followed by a high pitched ringing, like a bomb had exploded right next to you. Those words simply did not make sense to your mind. Viktor did not just say what you thought he did. You laughed and Viktor flinched, searching your face.

“Excuse me?” you chuckled. “Sure I didn’t hear you right.”

“I want you to have sex with Jayce,” Viktor repeated more firmly.

The laughter died in your throat. “That’s what I thought you said. You really must be sleep deprived -”

Viktor grasped both of your hands tightly between his, staring deep and sincerely into your eyes. “I cannot do for you all I wish. I want you to enjoy yourself. To be served and sated.”

You tried to put on a reassuring smile, but it felt wrong. “But I do, I am. I don’t mind that we have to do things differently.”

“It is more than ‘differently.’” Viktor spit the word out, voice dripping with frustration. “There are so many things I cannot do for you. Ways that I wish to pleasure you that I simply cannot. – That is why I have asked Jayce if he would help me fulfill these. He said he would, if that was something you would like.”

You sighed deeply. “Love -”

“Please tell me you will consider, it would mean a great deal.” Viktor brushed the knuckles of one of your hands against his lips. His eyes were large and sad and glossy. “Sleep on it, at the least?”

Your mouth pressed into a flat line. Those puppy dog eyes of his were so hard to resist. “Sure, yeah. I’ll sleep on it.”

But not with Jayce.

With the tension aired between the two of you, Viktor slept glued to your side. His body curled around yours, his nose in your hair. In the morning, he sat pressed against you on the couch. Then just about had you shoved into the entryway wall as you saw him off. Making up for the lost time, you supposed. He asked you to come visit the lab that afternoon, to see all the progress they’d made in their research. As if you didn’t visit nearly everyday anyway. This time, you had a feeling it was just a pretense and that Viktor had another agenda up his sleeve.

Once he was out the door, you slid down the wall. Sitting with your hands covering your face. What were you going to do? The morning ticked by slowly as you went back to working on your paintings. Your mind was still distracted, chewing over the proposition. Over and over again, you landed on one thing - you were not fucking Jayce. The very thought of someone’s else hands on your skin, exposing yourself to anyone new - you cringed away from it. It had taken long enough with Viktor. You didn’t want to have sex with anyone else, at his request or not.

Despite the warmth in the air, you dressed in long pants, tall boots, and a high collared sleeveless shirt when you went to the lab. It felt necessary to hide your skin away from prying eyes. Like a barrier. A way to show your vehement stance on the matter. 

This time when you made your entrance, Viktor immediately pushed out of his chair. Meeting you halfway across the room. A hand slipped around your waist, pulling you flush to his side as he leaned his forehead against yours. He gave you a real kiss. A deep one. Like the mere hours of separation had been a lifetime.

“Come,” Viktor said breathlessly. “Observe what we have done.”

Viktor explained their progress with rampant enthusiasm. Most of it went over your head. So you ooh’d and aah’d along. You could physically see the progress in the machine they were making. So you assumed it was decent progress.

Jayce hadn’t been there when you arrived. But when he finally strode through the doors, he kept his distance. You could feel his eyes though. The way they watched you as Viktor led you in a slow circle around the room. It was as though you were an ant under a magnifying glass. You wondered what he’d thought of Viktor’s proposal. With the barely contained hunger in his face, you had to guess he was just as enthusiastic. There was an itch in the back of your mind, a voice planting a seed that made anger boil in your belly. What if it had all been Jayce’s idea in the first place?

You and Viktor were just about to walk to a nearby restaurant for lunch when someone poked their head in and asked for him. He excused himself and kissed your forehead with the promise of a quick return. Then you were alone with Jayce. Now he was pointedly turned away from you. Hunched over whatever device he was tinkering with. Picking up his screwdriver, but not seeming to actually use it before putting it back down. Then making a show of skimming over blueprints again.

“I know you know, Jayce,” you said, leaning against the far end of his work table. “Did you put him up to it?”

Jayce flinched and dropped the thing in hand, wide eyes shooting to you. He held up his hands in defense. “No! Why the hell would I do that?”

All traces of whatever beast laid hidden beneath the surface was gone now. You were left with regular ole Jayce. You narrowed your eyes at him, scrutinizing his face.

“I don’t know…”

He shook his head slightly. “I swear, I had nothing to do with it. It was all his idea.”

You hummed, staring at him for a long moment before you decided he was being genuine. “Then why the hell didn’t you tell him ‘no’? Or convince him that it was a bad idea?”

Jayce pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, then grunted before meeting your gaze. “I tried, I did - I swear. By the end of it, though, I just couldn’t say ‘no’ anymore! He gave me a full presentation on the chalkboard. - I’ve known Viktor for a while. Believe me, he’s just scared you’ll leave him. A hell of a lot more than he probably told you.”

Finally, you relented, rolling your eyes. You crossed your arms tightly over your chest. “That’s not going to happen.”

“See, you and I both know that. But he just wants to make sure of it, so he’s giving you another option. Trust me, I was just as surprised as you are.” Jayce paused, turning his full body to you. “I think we should do it.”

Your head jerked towards him. “What?!”

He shrugged desperately. “Viktor never asks for anything!”

“I’m. Not. Fucking. You.” Each word was met with a sharp rap on the table with your nail.

“Ouch,” Jayce feigned, a hand to his chest. “You really know how to hurt a guy. - Look, just give it a thought. For him. Poor guy’s been beating himself up. He just wants to make it up to you. And it wouldn’t have to be a repeat experience. Just one time to make him happy and then we never have to speak of it again.”

You sighed deeply, scowling at nothing in particular. That was when Viktor returned. Almost giddy to see that you were by Jayce’s workstation.

“Are you ready to eat, my dove?” he asked, coming to you.

He put a finger under your chin, guiding your face up to look at him. He smoothed away the furrow in your brow. With one last glance at Jayce, you nodded. You went for lunch, carefully avoiding that one particular avenue of conversation. Instead, asking him a question you knew would send him down some scientific tangent you couldn’t follow. It ate up the rest of your conversation and the walk back to the lab.

That evening, Viktor returned home early. He changed out of his academy uniform and found where you were making dinner. He put a hand on your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. He murmured something that you didn’t quite catch.

“Want to try some?” you asked, but he shook his head. 

He pressed you tighter against his chest. You smiled to yourself. It was the little things like this, the little warmths in your life that you loved the most. You stood in a warm, comfortable silence while you finished up cooking. Then made light conversation as you ate dinner. 

The heavy topics didn’t come until you laid side by side in bed.

“You were speaking with Jayce today,” Viktor started lightly. “Have you considered my proposal?”

You turned your head to look into his painfully hopeful eyes. He gave you a nervous smile. You sat up, throwing a leg over his hips. He gasped lightly. His hands found your hips of their own volition. You leaned forward, caging his head with your hands.

“What’s wrong with this?” you asked softly, rolling your hips against him. Viktor’s mouth fell open a bit, eyes fluttering. His hips weakly bucked back up at you. “With just doing what we can? I don’t mind that we have limits, or can’t do certain positions. All it means is that we have to get creative.”

Viktor’s hands tensed, then relaxed as his thumbs rubbed circles into the flesh of your hips. He looked away briefly, then found your eyes again. A hand came to your cheek, you leaned into it.

“I just want you to be happy,” Viktor replied weakly. “Satisfied. Even if it’s not with me.”

You leaned down to kiss him. “I am both of those things. You know if I had an issue I would say something.”

The puppy dog eyes returned. “Darling, please…”

Sitting back, you took care to support your weight on your heels. Always slightly afraid you’d hurt him. But it wasn’t as big of a deal as he was making it out to be. You knew his limits. 

His hands slid up under your night shirt, finger tips grazing your bare breast under the fabric. A low groan roiled in the back of your throat, your lip catching between your teeth. Beneath you, you could already feel his hardness pressing into you.

“All I ask is for once,” he said, voice set deep in his throat now.

You frowned. “That’s what Jayce said.”

“Because that is all we discussed. I was…thoroughly disappointed that I was not as able as I thought.”

Burning chewed at the back of your mind, clawing in your gut. A tinge of guilt. Viktor’s hand squeezed between your bodies to tease at your clit through the fabric of your underwear. His other fully massaging one of your breasts. Your head lolled back, lips parting. His hips rolled up to meet yours, pressing his erection to your core. You could feel his eyes watching your every move. 

“You already know how to satisfy me,” you muttered. “You know exactly how to drive me nuts.”

“I am a scientist, at the end of the day,” he stated nonchalantly, fingers never ceasing their work. “The powers of observation and knowledge of experimentation come into use in many of life’s avenues.”

“See?” you chuckled, meeting his eyes. “It's me who should be worried.”

Viktor scoffed. “Oh please - your presence is all I require.”

Your hands gathered his shirt, pushing it up to expose his skin. You leaned down, kissing from sternum to waistband. Viktor’s breath fluttered beneath you. You shimmied to straddle his good leg, palming him through his pants. He groaned and arched into the touch.

“See? This is fine,” you whispered.

Viktor sat up, catching your wrist. He held your face in one hand, bringing you into a hard kiss. He nipped at your bottom lip, then ran his tongue across it as he guided your back into the mattress. He peppered kisses down your neck, where he found the one spot that sent shockwaves through your body. You whined and panted, winding your arms around him. Holding him close.

“I am just grateful to have you,” he whispered in your ear. “To kiss you, to come back here to you at the end of the day. - To fuck is you one of my few joys in life. I find home between your thighs. But you deserve more than my feeble abilities.”

You moaned at the words, pressing your body closer to his. They sunk deeper into you than they were probably meant to. Still, you couldn’t deny that they sent a thrill down your body as you replayed them in your head. You concentrated on the warmth coming from Viktor.

Moving from your neck, Viktor repeated your movements. Pushing your shirt up to expose you. A shiver snaking through your body. Nipples hardening in the cool air. Viktor took one into his mouth, fingers adeptly rolling the other one. As though this was the thing he’d spent his entire day working at. Warmth pooled in your core, your clit aching for friction already. He trailed soft kisses down your sternum and to your waistband.

“I want to give you so much more,” Viktor muttered, fingers slowly pulling down your underwear. 

“I’m happy with this,” you told him, though you weren’t sure if the words came out right.

Viktor chuckled, managing to work the panties off you. You weren’t sure where they went. But you had no doubt he’d manage to conjure them back into existence when you were done. He always did.

Two fingers found your entrance. Your back arching to the touch. You could feel your arousal already leaking out. Viktor lightly pressed his thumb against your clit. You groaned loudly, bottom lip quivering.

“If I was a religious man, you would be my goddess,” Viktor muttered, fingers working in tandem. His other hand rubbing circles deeply into the flesh of your thigh. “You are already my muse.”

His fingers pumped in and out at a maddening pace. The wet sound of your arousal filling the room. He curled his fingers to find a spot he knew sent you spiraling. A ripple of pleasure pulled a moan from your throat. You tried blubbering back a reply, but words wouldn’t form in your mind. It was a thick slurry of sin and hormones. 

Viktor smiled in that way he did only in times like this. Like this was his life’s purpose fulfilled. Like he’d been placed in this time and place just to bring you pleasure. And damn, was he good at it.

Finally, he lowered himself to the bed. Face hovering just above where his fingers were already working. You knew he’d make you cum with little effort. What he lacked in his physical ability, he made up for like this. Drinking you in and eating you out like a last meal to a dying man. 

His breath drifted across your sensitive skin. Eliciting another moan came from you, hips involuntarily bucking. Seeking the pleasure and the high you knew was coming. He kissed the soft skin of your inner thigh and chuckled.

“Come now, dove,” muttered Viktor. “Be patient.”

You groaned, throwing him a playful glare. Something about the way he was looking at you took your breath away. His cheeks pink and half-lidded eyes filled with life. He gazed at you like you were the world’s most gorgeous art piece. You felt like you were lit up from within, full with warmth and light.

A moan rumbled from deep in his chest as his tongue flicked out. Taking over where his thumb had been. His tongue swirled around your clit. A loud moan rolling from you. You sunk one hand into his curls, the other gripping the back of one thigh to keep your leg up. Offering more space for him to maneuver. 

Viktor obliged, pulling himself closer. Still working your wet pussy with his fingers. He slipped in another one. Which earned another groan and hip grind. He hummed, leaning into it. His hand gripped your other thigh like a lifeline, pressing it into his shoulder. The spring was already starting to compress in your stomach. The ripples of pleasure as he lapped at you pulling it tighter. 

“Hon - Vik -” You couldn’t form a full word. Focusing only on the overwhelming waves of pleasure that washed over you. They cleansed your mind of function. Your whole body was filled with heat. You couldn’t get your shirt the rest of the way off fast enough.

Each furious pulse of Viktor’s fingers, each curl of his tongue worked you tighter. The way he rocked back and forth as he worked. You clenched around his fingers, enjoying the extra sensation. It added to the heat in your body. You never knew how to describe it. But there was always one thing he did with his tongue, the way it wrapped around your clit as he sucked and nibbled, that sent you over. 

Every. Single. Time. 

The rubber band snapped as Viktor delivered one last little nip and applied pressure with his thumb again. Every nerve was on fire. Whiting out your mind. Arching your back as your mouth dropped open and your eyes rolling back into your skull. Zeroing in on the way his fingers felt inside you as you rode the pleasure out. The hand in his hair gripping, keeping him there, like your life depended on it.

As you released his locks, Viktor sat up. The satisfaction on his face was clear. He wiped at his chin, sucked the arousal off his fingers, and shook out his cramping hand. Another shiver shook you head to toe. Then again, you couldn’t even feel your toes. Your body and mind warm and numb in the afterglow.

Viktor slowly removed his night clothes, exposing himself as fully as you were. His erection throbbed, already weeping with precum. You remembered being taken aback by its size the first time, and still a little to this day. Viktor had a determined set to face, brows furrowed with concentration. He gripped your legs and positioned himself between your thighs.

“Honey, you don’t have to -” you started, cutting off when he thrust deeply into you. White hot pleasure shook your entire being. Your sensitive walls clenching around him as they stretched and the thought shot out of your brain. Eyes rolling once again back in your head, you gripped the mattress. “Fuck!”

Viktor propped himself on his hands. You could tell he was favoring his left leg as he tried to get momentum going. Though you knew he wouldn’t be able to do this long. Still, it was always such a treat when he tried. He dragged himself out of you, then plunged roughly back in. A gruff moan following. You could see the effort on his face as it mingled with a twinge of frustration.

Each slow pump brought a new wave of mind numbing pleasure. Your whole body was alight with ecstasy. It was, however, short lived. Viktor frowned, begrudgingly pulling himself out. He scowled down at his leg, rubbing at the muscle in his thigh. As though that would give him back some of his missing stamina.

“Damn this,” he muttered.

You sat up, muscles weak. A hand to his chest, you cooed, “Lay down, my love.”

Viktor sighed, doing as he was directed. Then you were on top, as you tended to be. Lowering yourself down on his length. Eliciting a shared moan.  The stretch every time was delicious. You ground your hips down into his in the way you knew he liked. Making sure he was all the way in, right down to the base. His hands went to your thigh, rocking you with every motion.

But the disappointment in his face didn’t fully leave. It was a continuous crease in his brow. Even as you rode him. Bucking and rolling your hips. You didn’t mind this, being on top. It was worth it to watch him. The way he’d get totally lost in it all, hair splayed across the pillow, eyes fluttering, mouth parted as he released small pants.

Gripping the headboard for more stability, you raised your hips higher and grinded down a little harder. Viktor’s hips rose to meet yours as a moan boiled from his chest. One hand released you, pulling you down so he could claim one of your nipples in his mouth. He grunted against your skin, his tongue swirling about the bud.

It wasn’t long until you worked him up to his tipping point. His entire body went rigid. He was panting and shuddering, trying to get any grip he could with his good leg. Trying to fuck up into you with messy thrusts.

“P-Please,” Viktor panted, pawing bonelessly at your leg. “I’m begging - I can’t - I need to -”

You chuckled to yourself. “Do you feel good, baby?”

“So, so - please…” Viktor hummed, giving weak, rapid nods. “So close, don’t tease me, dove - please…”

You clenched yourself around him and sunk down onto his cock one last time until he was moaning loudly and pressing your hips into his. You let him ride out his high. Chasing it with shallow, rapid thrusts. Until he finally blinked up at you with clear eyes, breath coming out in deep huffs. His hands remained on your hips, holding you in place. The aftershocks of his orgasm wracked his body, causing him to spasm inside you. 

You leaned down and kissed him hard. Viktor sighed as you pulled away. The expression was back, the frustration. He just looked so defeated gazing up at you.

“I wish you weren’t so hard on yourself, lovey,” you muttered, reaching out to play with his hair. He caught your hand, holding your palm to his face.

“The things I wish I could do to you,” he muttered. “It simply isn’t fair.”

A rush of hot embarrassment flooded you. Despite that, you could tell nothing you said was going to make it better. It didn’t matter to him that he could so quickly work your orgasm into being. Or that it was earth shattering and mind numbing every time. It didn’t matter that you were willing to try everything until you found positions that work for both of you. He wanted to be able to fuck you like a man who didn’t need a leg or back brace. You could see the heaviness in his eyes, the set of his mouth, the crease of his forehead.

You sighed, sliding off him. A knot tied itself in your chest. You settled, laying on your side to face him. “If I…if I have sex with Jayce, will that make you happy?”

“It would mean more to me than I can say,” Viktor muttered. In the back of your mind, you worried that he would regret it if you said yes. As if he sensed your thoughts, he rolled to match your position. He met your gaze, continuing, “It would just be sex - simple pleasure. Satisfaction. Nothing more.”

You picked at the fray in your pillow case. “If it means that much to you…”

Viktor’s eyebrows raised, eyes lighting up with evident eagerness. Your mouth suddenly felt tacky. You swallowed trying to get some moisture back in your mouth. He nodded.

Glancing between him and the spot you were worrying at, you said, “Then I guess once would be fine.”

___

A week later, Jayce stood at your door. Hesitating. He’d brought flowers. Why had he brought flowers? This was a one time thing. Still - he had to wonder if it was considered rude to show up at your best friend’s apartment with an agreement to fuck his partner empty handed? He couldn’t exactly ask at the flower shop he’d gone to, though they’d probably heard worse. Still, he didn’t need that kind of news getting around.

Jayce had been thinking about this whole thing for two weeks - in two very different headspaces.

When Viktor had approached him at first, he didn’t know what to think. He’d never thought about how Viktor’s disability would affect that part of his life. He had to admit, he admired how hard Viktor tried. There were some…very detailed diagrams Viktor had drawn as examples for his presentation. Jayce was grateful you were patient with him. However, the hotter under the collar Viktor got as he described how and what exactly you two often got up to during sexy time. – The more Jayce’s mind began to wander.

He tried not to think about you that way. He’d been glad when Viktor had introduced you that first time. Happy that his friend had finally found someone. You two now considered each other friends. That was under threat of being tainted now that Jayce paid closer attention when you came into the lab. He always thought you were attractive. But he couldn’t stop how his mind was tilting to thoughts about what would happen if you said yes. He couldn’t keep from tracing your curves with his eyes, watching you walk, seeing the way Viktor allowed you in his space and how easily he touched you. It awakened something inside him.

He pushed the thoughts into a box, trying not to dwell on them too much. He had to be careful to conceal any part of them when you were around. So he kept his distance to keep from saying anything unseemly. And then Viktor told him you’d agreed and the dam in his mind broke.

Dark fantasies plagued him in the night. Jayce found himself wondering what you tasted like. How it would feel to do the things that Viktor described. He wanted you to sit on his face and moan his name like it was the only word you knew. He wanted to make you cum more in a day than Viktor ever had. 

The thought of being watched thrilled him. Being allowed to fuck someone else’s partner? It got him harder than he’d ever been. Getting to see the way he was able to bring you pleasure in ways Viktor couldn’t - a real boost to his ego. Jayce wanted to see the displeased look on Viktor’s face as he folded you over and fucked you deep.

In the end, he had to remind himself this was a one time thing. And he had to make the most of it. There was a small, misguided voice in the back of his mind that suggested that if this went well, it would happen again. He just had to not make a big deal out of it.

Viktor opened the door when Jayce finally knocked. Raising an eyebrow at the bouquet. Jayce shrugged. You were just coming out of the bedroom at the back. A robe hugged your form tightly, and he swore he could see a peek of lace beneath it.

“You brought flowers?” you asked, laughing.

Jayce rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Seemed rude not to, given the circumstances.”

Taking the bouquet from his hand, you held it to your face, and breathed in deeply. Your eyes fluttered closed softly at the pleasant smell. A light smile on your face. Jayce already felt himself growing stiff. If this was how you reacted to flowers, then how the hell was he going to last?

“They’re beautiful, Jayce. Thank you,” you said. Then turned to Viktor. Jayce knew it was wrong, but he felt a little put out by the shift in attention. “Honey, is the vase still in the cabinet?”

Viktor nodded and watch you wander into the other room. Then his amused eyes went back to Jayce. His glance flicked down to Jayce’s pants and back. A smile danced in Viktor’s voice as he said, “You certainly came prepared.”

 Jayce grunted. “Shut up.”

They listened to you moving around the kitchen. Jayce felt a little dizzy, standing there with his dick hard and his hands sweating. This was really happening. It wasn’t just some perverted vision in his mind anymore. A soft thud came from the kitchen followed by a muttered curse.

Viktor laughed softly. “She’s nervous.”

“Not the only one. Are you sure about this?” Jayce asked. A piece of him knew he’d be devastated if he was asked to leave. But Viktor nodded, eyes trailing back to the door you’d gone through. Jayce followed his gaze. There was a pregnant pause between them, then he finally asked, “Is she wearing -“

“Lingerie? Yes.”

Jayce cleared his throat. “And that was -“

“My idea.” Viktor sighed. “I thought it would make it less awkward that way.”

“You ever done anything like this before?”

“The number of people I’ve had sex with can be counted on one hand. - So no. Surely you must have -“

Jayce shook his head. “No.”

“Ah.” Viktor’s eyebrows rose momentarily, like he didn’t believe him. “Well, I suppose we may then use this as a learning experience.”

You finally emerged from the kitchen, your robe half hanging off. Which exposed the pale pink lace of the lingerie you wore. Nipples peeking through the thin fabric. The sight sent heat right down below Jayce’s waist band. He was getting painfully hard now.

You cleared your throat. “So - how should we…proceed, gentlemen?”

You fidgeted, nibbling on your lip. Viktor went to you first. Allowed to be so close to you. He put a hand on your waist, pulling you flush to his side. Gazing at you so lovingly it hurt to behold. Jayce found a touch of unfounded jealousy burning in him; he wanted to be allowed into your space so freely.

“I thought I would do what I can,” Viktor started. His voice was deeper, smoother - a tone Jayce had never heard. You chuckled in that flirtatious way he was familiar with, your thighs already clenching together. Jayce suddenly understood the tone. “And then Jayce will step in. Is that alright with you, my dove?”

Your eyes flickered to him like you’d forgotten he was there. You gave a little nod. Viktor leaned in and kissed you deeply, his hand slipping under the robe. You let out something between a gasp and moan, Viktor smiled a bit as his eyes went to Jayce. If Jayce didn’t know better, he’d almost think that he was trying to show off.

“Before I forget,” you started suddenly, breaking the kiss. Jayce watched Viktor’s tongue leave your mouth. “Safeword is ‘hextech.’”

Viktor chuckled. Jayce laughed at the ridiculousness but agreed. Viktor nodded towards the hall as he turned you towards it. Jayce followed the pair of you back to your shared room, he couldn’t take his eyes off the sway of your hips.  He found a chair had been placed by the bed.

“My dove has said it’s okay if you want to watch, Jayce,” Viktor said, not looking at him. Just absorbed in you, with caressing your cheek with his thumb. “But it is ultimately your decision.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jayce muttered, mouth suddenly dry. He wasn’t expecting to get a show. “I’ll stay.”

Viktor cast him a fleeting glance. “Do what you need to.”

Jayce removed all the clothes on his bottom half, finally freeing his aching cock. Then he lowered himself into the plush chair. You sat on the bed, Viktor following next to you. Jayce noted that all of Viktor’s nervous energy was gone now. All of his movements confident as he laid you down against the pillows and kissed you, whispering to you. His left knee shoved between your thighs. He untied your robe as he worked from your mouth to your neck and down your body. You responded indulgently to every touch. 

Jayce realized that pleasing you wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. Not like he’d originally thought. Viktor had had over two years to learn the ways of your body. And if he hadn’t performed, at least somewhat, competently , then you probably wouldn’t have stayed so long. Competition burned in the back of Jayce’s mind, in his chest. It wasn’t a competition, of course. He had to keep reminding himself this was just a favor for a friend. 

Jayce was sure he’d never seen anyone come to such a fulfilling climax so quickly before. Viktor had pulled off your panties and comfortably settled between your thighs. So practiced. So sure in his abilities. The way he had spoken to Jayce about your sex life, he had made it seem like he had never made you cum before. But right now he worshipped your body like a devoted servant. Eager to please, eager to give. Even if he wasn’t receiving this time.

Jayce couldn’t help himself. He gripped his throbbing dick, and a rush of pleasure came. He groaned, leaning his head on the back of the chair as he started to stroke himself. Slowly at first, hips rocking as he fucked his hand.

You held your legs up with your hands, and Viktor eagerly ate up the extra space. He pushed himself closer to you, reaching to play with one of your nipples. Your back arched at the touch, a moan coming from your lips. That almost had Jayce undone right there.

Jayce got a good view as Viktor pushed one finger into your folds. Then two. Then three. You gasped as he slipped in a fourth. He suddenly wondered just how big Viktor’s dick was that you required that much stretching. He watched, entranced, as Viktor worked his fingers in and out of you. Each pump coating them in slick more than the last.

Gods, Jayce wanted to be doing that himself. His thicker fingers covered in your fluids, your walls clenching around them. He wanted to taste you. For now, all he could do was watch as Viktor coaxed out mewls. As you released one leg and gripped his hair. Arousal already wetting the bed sheet. Viktor hadn’t even had a chance to put his mouth to work yet. You must’ve been anticipating something. Maybe Viktor was the one who liked to be watched and had anticipated this. Jayce’s humiliation as he discovered just what Viktor could do for you.

Waves of pleasure shook through Jayce as he listened to your pants. They grew into moans as Viktor began to work your sensitive spots with his tongue. He came to the conclusion that little shit had lied about just how much pleasure you were getting in the bedroom. He subconsciously matched his pace with Viktor’s fingers. Imagining what it would feel for you to be wrapped around his cock instead.

 He couldn’t wait to find out.

Jayce had to focus so he didn’t go over the edge too fast. It wasn’t long until you did. Your hips bucking, legs shaking. Mouth pulled into an O as the filthiest moans Jayce had ever heard fell from your lips. He watched on, fascinated. Your entire body quaked.

Just how had Viktor done that to you?

When your hand left Viktor’s hair, he sat back. He was just as out of breath as you were. The heels of your hands pressed into your eyes. Your pussy glistened enticingly. If this is what Viktor had been treated to, it was no wonder he didn’t want to lose it.

Viktor looked at Jayce over his shoulder, sucking your juices off his fingers. Before he wiped at the wetness on his face. He seemed awfully self satisfied.

“Jayce,” Viktor said hoarsely. “I believe this is where you may step in.”

___

You watched as Viktor stood from the bed, pulling himself up with his crutch. The last waves of your orgasm were still quaking through you. You swore you saw stars. Your head still light and spinning with pleasure.

“I’ll leave you two to it then,” Viktor muttered, turning to the door. 

You sat up, head clearing. “You’re not staying?”

Viktor half turned back to you. “I thought it would be strange if I did.”

“It would be weirder if you didn’t.” You frowned, reaching for his hand. He took a step forward and held it firmly. The contact was almost too warm. “Please stay - for me.”

Jayce stood and you tried to avoid looking at his thick cock. It was already dribbling precum, veins bulging. “You’ve already got the chair.”

“I -” Viktor started. “Are you sure? I was going to give you some privacy.”

“Privacy?” Jayce’s voice was almost a laugh. “I just watched you eat out your ‘little dove.’ I think we’re way past privacy.”

Viktor nodded, releasing your hand. He hesitated before settling in the chair Jayce had occupied. Awkwardly, Jayce kneeled on the bed in front of you. You both glanced at Viktor. He was red faced, shifting uncomfortably.

“Remember,” you started. “‘Hextech.’”

Viktor nodded. “I remember.”

It was weird to have someone else touching your body. Jayce had your back in the mattress, hands trailing up your thighs. His hands were bigger and warmer than Viktor’s. He was overall a larger person. Though you were sure Viktor had Jayce beat by an inch or two in terms of dick size. You weren’t used to being dwarfed like this. The way he hovered over you, trapping you with his arms, was almost intimidating.

“Are you sure you’re fine with this?” Jayce asked one final time.

You glanced at Viktor and then up at Jayce before nodding. “Yeah.”

He leaned forward, whispering in your ear, “Let’s give him a show.”

You moaned as he plunged two fingers into you. They were thicker than Viktor’s, filling you up in a different way. Your overly sensitive walls fluttered around them. Jayce chuckled, removed his fingers, and stuck them in his mouth.

“Fuck - Viktor does have good taste after all.”

You burned with embarrassment. Then looked past Jayce to see Viktor’s face, he was gripping hard onto his crutch. Watching as Jayce held your hips and pulled you into his lap. His hard cock nudged at your entrance, you both groaned at the contact. His thumb danced lightly over your swollen clit. A shudder ran from the crown of your head to your toes. Then he thrust deeply in you.

“Oh, fuck!” you cried, hands grasping at his thick arms. 

Jayce grunted, nose wrinkling. “Holy - Fuck - Viktor you were holding out on me.”

You caught Viktor sit up a little straighter in his chair. Like he was about to pull you off of Jayce. You weren’t used to so much force being put behind the thrusts. It caught you off guard.

“Let me know if it’s too much,” Jayce told you, his voice settled deeper into his chest.

“Go easy on me, please,” was all you could manage.

Jayce pulled out then thrusted into you again. A sharp moan ripped from your throat. You didn’t have to fake or put on any kind of show. You were still so sensitive from your orgasm. You immediately clamped down tightly. 

Jayce’s fingers dug deeply into your flesh. “Oh, fuck…so tight..”

He picked up his pace, pulling you onto him over and over again. His lips pulled back over his teeth, grunting with each snap of his hips. You weren’t used to being fucked like this. It was entirely different, you’d forgotten how much so. Jayce lifted your legs over his shoulders. Where he found a spot that had your mind turning into goo. Each thrust pushed you farther up the bed. You caught him occasionally checking Viktor’s reactions.

“Oh - fuck - Jay - I, fuck -“ you sputtered out incoherently, over and over. Your voice jumping octaves.

One of his hands caught both your wrists, pinning them above your head. He shifted to press your hips into the mattress, pushing your knees closer to your chest. You couldn’t remember the last time you were bent like this. Jayce’s cock reached deep inside you, each thrust seemed to push deeper into your core until you were seeing stars.

There was the wild sound of his skin slapping against yours. The groan of the bedframe and tap of the headboard against the wall. Your legs shook, feebly trying to keep their purchase over Jayce’s shoulder. Each rough thrust was a new ripple of sensation. You wanted to pull your hands away, dig your nails into his skin. But he kept you right where he wanted.

Then Jayce pulled out suddenly, releasing your wrists. You whined at the sudden emptiness. You were taken aback to find just how sweaty you were. Along with just how wet you were. Your entire body shook.

Jayce gently but firmly guided a position change. At some point, he’d unhooked your bra and it fell to the floor. Now you were on all fours, facing Viktor this time. Jayce delivered a short, hard smack to one of your ass cheeks. You cried out with the pain and pleasure of it. Viktor was red faced and very obviously straining in his pants.

There was no warning as Jayce thrust into you again. You almost face planted at the force. Viktor moved like he was going to catch you. But Jayce quickly pulled you back by your hips. Laying another slap to your ass. It stung, it felt good, it hurt in the most delicious way possible.

Jayce held you firmly as he rammed into you roughly, over and over. Your head dropped, squeezing your eyes shut. You could hardly catch your breath. He gripped a handful of hair, yanking your head back. You yelped.

“I want Viktor to see your face as I fuck you,” he said.

You moaned and whined, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. You couldn’t read the expression on Viktor’s face. His eyes locked onto yours, sending new heat through your body. You were almost surprised that he still had his clothes on. That he hadn’t followed as Jayce had.

Jayce took his hands from your hair and forced your chest down to the mattress. Making your back arch, ass high in the air now. You clawed at the edge of the bed, crying and groaning into the mattress.

Suddenly, Jayce scooped his arms up under your body. One hand coming up to squeeze your throat. The other pressing your back to his chest. He grunted and cursed softly in your ear, fucking up into you desperately.

“What did I say?” he panted. “About wanting him to watch?”

Viktor’s eyes raked over your body. You were hot with embarrassment. Being held exposed like this. Boobs bouncing as Jayce pummeled into you. Viktor’s eyes were glued to them, fingers flexing against his knees.

“Why don’t you touch her, Viktor?” Jayce asked, voice slurred with his lust. “She’s been such a good girl.”

A whine curled in the back of your throat. You couldn’t help but shiver and clench at the nickname. Jayce chuckled. A warm, dark sound in your ear. 

“Oh? You like the praise?” Jayce inquired. “Vik, don’t you ever tell her how good she is to you? How good she feels? How warm and tight her little pussy is? I know I would. - I’ll praise you all you want, pretty girl, make up for Viktor.”

Viktor’s eyes were over your shoulder. You wondered what sort of look Jayce was giving him. Viktor was frowning a touch. Jayce began rutting into you, sending shivers down your spine. You rested your head back against his shoulder.

“Such. A.” Each word punctuated with a sharp snap of the hips. You sputtered out moans and mewls, the utter ecstasy flowing through your body getting too much to bare. “Good. Fucking. Girl. - Gods, I don’t know how you ever stop fucking her.”

“If I didn’t have this leg…nothing could stop me,” Viktor replied. It sent a new wave of heat and pleasure pulsing over you. 

“You enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” Jayce asked  you. You nodded weakly. “Good. - Do you like getting fucked like this? You’re taking my dick so fucking well. Do you like having Viktor watch when I fuck you?”

You blubbered out something incoherent. Jayce chuckled. It sent another shiver down your spine.

 “You don’t look like you do, Viktor. I’m honestly surprised you can keep it in your pants when you have such a perfect view. You are allowed to have a little fun.” Jayce’s lust-drunk tone held a challenge in it. “I thought you wanted me to fuck her for you? You said she likes getting fucked stupid. I doubt she even knows her name right now.”

“I told you, this was for her satisfaction,” Viktor challenged. “Not mine.”

“Then satisfy her, dumbass.”

Viktor got to his feet. Coming to stand before the two of you. He glared up at Jayce, but his expression softened as he turned to you. Seeing the pleasure evident on your features. He brought the hand not leaning on his cane up, fingers deftly finding your clit.

You yelped in surprise, flinching and pressing down into Jayce. He groaned, putting more weight into his movements. Viktor traced circles and figure-eights around your clit. Your walls clenched, satisfied to find themselves full. 

Your breath came in shallow pants. You felt amazingly. Like you were floating, surrounded by pure euphoria. Every nerve ending was tuned into Jayce’s quick, hard thrusts and the way Viktor’s fingers played with you. Warmth pooled in your abdomen. 

“I wan - cum…” you whined. Your voice higher than usual. “So bad.”

“You heard the lady, Viktor, she’s begging for it. What do you say?” asked Jayce. “Why don’t you show me how you made her cum so fast before? Gotta make sure it wasn’t just a fluke.”

“Unlike some people,” Viktor started. “I know how to serve pleasure to others before my own. I never said I couldn’t do that. Very egotistical of you to presume.”

Viktor pulled the chair to the edge of the bed. You were thankful the frame was fairly low to the ground. He was able to sit while Jayce shimmied you closer to the edge of the mattress. Viktor leaned forward, tongue darting out over your sensitive bud.

“Fuucckkkkk,” you whined. You weren’t sure where to put your hands. Your body was nothing but warm tingles.

Viktor worked himself free of his pants, one hand pumping himself furiously. Finally allowing himself the pleasure. The other braced him against the bed so he could lap at you. He lapped at your folds like he’d never tasted you a day in his life.

It all felt wrong but right at the same time. There was just something about seeing Viktor’s face pressed against you. Feeling his tongue do its sinful dance. Watching as he fucked his hand. Trying desperately to relieve the erection he’d kept contained. How had he managed such control?  Feeling as he grunted and panted against your skin.

Meanwhile Jayce kept up his pace with startling stamina. Arms still wrapped around you, clamping you to him and his blazing skin. He was now nibbling at your neck, planting hot, wet kisses to it. He found the same spot Viktor had that flooded your body and sucked at it.

There was sensation everywhere. It was all too much. The coil in the pit of your stomach twisted tighter and tighter. How Jayce’s grip on your throat tightened a touch. The hand holding you to him now fondling one of your nipples. The more you clamped down on his cock, the more boldly Viktor lapped at you like it was the first time. 

Your orgasm was like nothing you had ever felt. It ripped through you like lightning. You had never heard yourself make that kind noise before. A thousand suns exploded through your body. One hand threading through Viktor’s hair, the other reaching behind you for any grip you could get on Jayce.

“Holy shit,” Jayce exclaimed, then he was out of you. Pumping himself as he shot streams of hot cum on your ass. You rode your orgasm against Viktor’s furiously flicking tongue until your knees were weak and you were left breathless.

“Your turn,” you slurred as Viktor pulled away. 

You barely thought then you were in his lap. He hardly had time to catch you. You groaned at the extra girth to him as you sank down on his cock. The surprise on his face was quickly taken over as he cursed. You whined out moans as you rode him. Up and down, rocking back and forth with the chair groaning under you. With how sensitive you were, you just couldn’t get enough. He tried to move his hips to your pace, gripping your flesh.

“I - I can’t,” Viktor muttered, lips quivering. “You’re too -“ 

He hid his face in your neck, a moan ripping from his throat. He used his purchase on your hips to ride out his orgasm. Moving you to milk him until he came down. His breath came out in a stuttering rush, you could feel his heart racing in his chest. Finally he let you go, leaning his head back to reveal his absolutely pussydrunk face.

“My goddess,” Viktor muttered, running a finger from your temple to your chin. “My beauty.”

You kissed him, not caring that your fluids still coated his chin. Viktor wove his hands weakly into your hair, pulling you closer. Jayce cleared his throat. You turned to him. He leaned against your headboard, head tilted back and eyes closed.

“Thank you for this, Jayce,” Viktor said. He also had his eyes closed, a small smile on his lips.

“Yeah,” Jayce waved him off. “What’re friends for? - Besides, you didn’t need as much help as you made it seem, you dick.”

You lifted yourself off Viktor. Pulling one last groan from you both. All of the fluids began to drip out of you, so you excused yourself to the restroom. You took a change of clothes with you. The men were dressed again when you returned.

“So - not as bad as you thought?” Jayce teased, from his spot on your couch.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” You rolled your eyes. 

Jayce smirked at you. “Oh, c’mon, admit it - you liked it.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Night had fallen over the city by then. You were starving. Viktor was still floating around. He didn’t seem to have a worry in the world. 

“Well,” Jayce started as he stood near the door. “Let me know you’ll be needing my…services again.”

“In your dreams,” you said.

Jayce shrugged. “Yeah, maybe.”

When he was gone, you made dinner. Viktor shadowed you. Just watching you now. You had just started dishing it up when he came to stand near you.

“Hextech,” he said suddenly.

You turned to him. “Hextech?”

“Our safe word.”

You nodded. “What about it?”

“I’m using it.”

“Why…? Exactly…?” You searched his face. 

Viktor came to you then, pushing your back against the counter. Leaning his full weight into your body. He pushed his good knee between your thighs. Somehow, your clit still ached for the friction. Viktor’s amber eyes were dark, boring into yours feverishly.

“I did not like Jayce’s hands on you.”

A sinking feeling hit your stomach. He was regretting it already, wasn’t he? “Then why didn’t you use it earlier?”

“Because you were enjoying yourself. And I…” Viktor cleared his throat, his fingers twisting a lock of your hair. The tips of his ears were pink again. “...liked watching you. But he wasn’t handling you with care. And I cannot abide that. - Look at that, he even marked you.” Vitkor clicked his tongue and ran a finger the skin on your neck. “However, that I believe is my own fault.”

You raised an eyebrow. “How?”

“Eeh,” Viktor started, a smile forming. You could hear a guilty, playful edge to his voice. “I may have undersold my abilities to Jayce. That way I could put on a little show today. - That man needs to be humbled sometimes.”

You laughed. “Well, we don’t have to do that again. - One and done, like you said.”

Viktor paused. “That is - I just…I think I may enjoy a repeat of the day’s events.”

You met his gaze. Heat pooling in your belly again. You still hadn’t made up your mind about whether or not you wanted a repeat. “You liked…watching Jayce fuck me?”

“I enjoyed watching you enjoy yourself. The faces you make - I have never heard such sweet sounds.” Viktor pressed a kiss to your lips. His hand gently wrapped around your throat, squeezing it lightly. You whimpered softly at the touch. “But it’s your decision. Anything I can do for your pleasure. Anything to keep you here with me.”

“You’re never going to lose me. Not because of that or anything,” you insisted. “I’d rather throw myself off Piltover’s tallest building than live without you.”

“That’s awfully dramatic. I do not think it will ever come to that.” Viktor ran a thumb over your bottom lip. There was a long pause, but his mouth was opened like he had a thought that wouldn’t materialize. He avoided your eyes as he spoke. “Do you know what the hardest thing was, when we first were dating?”

You shook your head the slightest bit. He didn’t speak much of your first six months together. He rarely spoke of what drew him to you in the first place. Those first fragile months were so far away in your mind. They were full of a strange chaos between the two of you. Eventually, things settled into this warm place you found.

“I had many fears that I never spoke of. Firstly, that you would leave me once you discovered who I truly was. I worried a man of science would bore you compared to all of your artistic colleagues. I was often jealous.” Viktor sneered at the thought. 

“You were jealous?” you scoffed.

“It is not so far fetched a thought. I did not understand what you do, just as you do not understand what I do. The only difference is that you tried, and I…was not a very partner. - Here I was with this beautiful creature in my life, and an overwhelming fear that I would taint her. Drive her away. I suppose that put a barrier between us, for a time.”

You shrugged. “I’m still here, aren’t I?

“Amazing so,” Viktor chuckled. “When I finally put that worry to bed. Another then came to being that you were a dream. Just a cruel invention of my mind. Falling asleep at the lab began to be a gamble with fate. Were I to wake up one day and discover our life together had been a terrible lie of my subconscious - I would be a broken man. How could I live on knowing that I had dreamed of such a dear thing only for you then to not exist?

“Last week when I stayed in the lab, those fears came back. You cannot know how scared I was that if I slept, I would wake to find none of it real. That I would leave the lab and go back two years to the man I was. Or even farther. To a small, lonely dorm room grading papers for Heimerdinger. – I love you, and all the light you brought with you. I used to shy from that light, but now I can’t imagine returning to the dark. That’s why your presence in my life is enough for me. Why I asked Jayce for this. No matter what, I want to stay here with you, in this lovely dream of ours.”

“I’m here,” you swore, wrapping your arms around him and holding him tightly. “I’m real. I love you most of all.”

~

[captain-joongz]

as per request, we have a little Jungkook drabble here! i know that people call him bunny, but to me he's so wolf hybrid coded, so i wrote a little hybrid scenario for him hehe <3

warnings: possessive needy kookie, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cum play, scent play??? does that exist in hybrid fics??

it's no secret jungkookie gets playful a lot, he's just a baby. of course, when he's not railing your brains out, but that's how he lures you in, you see. and even knowing that, you fall for it every damn time, like a love-sick fool (which you are)

he's just so cute, watching you with those sparkly mischievous eyes - that's how you know he's about to do something, and before you know it you have a clingy wolf plastered to your back, hands grabbing onto your hips as he pouts and whines into your hair. he's trying to be cute to get you to go along with his whims and it's working, it's working every damn time

sometimes he starts off innocent enough, just wanting to cuddle or be close to you. you're both very tactile people and need a lot of contact, especially since your cute little boyfriend got it inside his head that you're his omega and he needs to love on you regularly

you always recognise when he changes intentions though, even without his ability to smell arousal, you can feel the shift in his behaviour, in the way his grip gets stronger and he starts rubbing himself on you. and he's a horny little demon, so you've learnt to expect the unexpected

like two days ago, when your boyfriend came to you in in the kitchen and simply bumped his hip into yours before leaning his head down to your shoulder, which then led to scenting which somehow ended with you getting fucked full on the kitchen table and Jungkook walking away happily while you tried to salvage the horrifically burned dinner.

or yesterday when he said down next to you on the couch, just cutely stretching over to snuggle into you while you worked which turned into you riding his knot until you both were stupid with it, paperwork long forgotten

or this morning, when "just cuddle five more minutes and then you can go" somehow ended up with you mounted and fucked into the bed, having to rush to work with his cum still inside you and being late anyway

or like right now, standing in the middle of his best friend's apartment, party in full swing, with a clingy wolf glued to your back knowing he's about 2 minutes away from needily mouthing at your neck, and panicking because you know he doesn't care about giving his entire friend group a show (they're all mostly hybrids anyway he always says)

and by the looks you're getting from some of the others, they know precisely about your current predicament, which is both a blessing and a curse when 10 minutes later you're saying your goodbyes to an amused Jimin with a knowing smirk, Kook pulling you out the door without a second glance

getting home is an ordeal, because Kook is the driver out of the two of you and he's suddenly like an octopus, unwilling to let you go. you're kind of expecting him to jump you the second the door of your apartment closes behind you (which has happened before and your poor decorative drawer caught the worst of it), but as the brave boy he is he hold off until you're in the living room

then he's all over you, holding you close with needy hands, mouth running along your shoulders, neck, biting and kissing and licking like an animal, satisfied chuffs leaving his lips

you have an inside joke between you - that it's impossible to tell whether he's in rut or not with how hot he gets for you all the damn time, and it couldn't be more true right now with him already grounding his hard cock into your side, desperate enough to mount you right here in the middle of the living room

his tail is wildly swishing behind him, thumping into the side of the couch as he pulls you closer to it, hands carving you according to what he wants, and you end up bent over the headrest, still standing and upper half of your body awkwardly dangling over the furnishing

but you don't have much time to complain, not when you feel Kook's fingers pushing your skirt up and your tights and panties down, groaning at the smell of your arousal permeating the air

"delicious" he'd rumble into the skin of your neck, tasting the scent right from your skin, his instincts kicking in already and engaging the more primal part of his brain

when he got like that, there wasn't much you could do except for taking everything he wanted to give you, moaning and drooling, flailing in his strong tattooed arms as he pounded away and filled you with a load after load

Jungkook in life was a minimalist in a single thing only - once he got you into a position, he'd fuck you for hours without bothering much to part from you - every second not spent plastered to your body and thrusting into your wet cunt was wasted in his opinion, and as long as you were screaming and moaning, there was no reason to move

and his possessive side would come out during these moments, with his mind gone in pleasure, he never held back with his endless groans and growls, whispering "mine!" into your ear like you were his favourite toy, smattering you in his seed until you'd smell like him for weeks - he thrived on that, on every hybrid knowing immediately you were taken by him, you could see him smirk every time Yoongi winced upon getting a single whiff of you after a particularly long night, the feline hybrid throwing the younger man unimpressed looks and subtly sitting away from you most of the night - Jungkook ate all of that up, chest swelling in pride

you'd long since given up on feeling embarrassed by such things, no longer blushing when you were dragged out of a party suddenly and fucked senseless in the car, nor when you came somewhere and all eyes turned to you out of the sheer potency of the wolf scent on you

and you could count on Jungkook always standing there, right by your side, an appreciative rumble sounding through his chest puffed up like a peacock, until he could get his hands on you again

divider by @cafekitsune

[moldychefboyardeecan]

Maybe I Do Like You...

So, I gave in. I wrote this part on a whim, and i am writing the next part. @physics-of-one-piece, I feel like you'd enjoy it^^

Part one is 16+, Part 2 is 18+

tags: doffyxreader ,flirty ,slow-ish burn, bilingual doffy

synopsis:

At first, you thought he was just another intimidating client, but then he dropped that pink feathered jacket on your desk, and you couldn’t look away. His grin, his piercing eyes behind those crimson glasses, the way he dominated the room—he was someone you'd only heard of in whispers. But the moment his finger brushed your lips, calling you “linda” with that dangerous smirk, you were hooked. It wasn’t long before he made it clear he wasn’t just interested in your sewing skills.

AO3 Work Link

It’s been smooth. Or well, as smooth as it could be dating Donquixote Doflamingo. He was very upfront about his confession, considering you’d never seen the guy a day in your life—other than rumors and pictures of the King of Dressrosa. The Heavenly Demon. Wait...

Oh shit.

You did see him. Once. Maybe twice.

You were a seamstress, and one day, you saw a man, ten feet tall, at LEAST 300 pounds. This man was terrifying. But upon closer inspection, his blonde hair and crimson flame glasses drew you in. He was a fucking BEAST, and you could tell just by looking at him. He approached your counter, walking like a damn crab.

"What the fuck..? W-why is he walking like that? Is he okay? Is he drunk? I—"

He cut your train of thought as he reached you, licking his lips and smiling.

"Hello, sir, how can I—"

A large, 4XL pink feathered jacket landed on you, his grin never wavering. He bent down to your level, peering through his tinted glasses. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you damn well knew they were piercing through your soul.

The glasses. The hair. The height. But what really made it click was the flamingo-feathered coat now lying on your desk.

He noticed your registered shock and let out a snicker.

"Fufufufu, I think you recognize what this is and who I am, no?"

"Uh-I—"

He tsked and placed a finger on your lips.

"Atatatatatata. Shhh. Can you fix it, mami? Generous berries for pretty girls who do their job well." He smirked, licking his damn lips again.

Flabbergasted. Flustered. Your face turned pinker than his coat. You just nodded. That was all you could do. With that, he removed his finger, turned around, and waved his hand in a lazy dismissal.

"I trust you’ll do a good job, linda."

"Wait, sir, you—"

The door shut behind him.

"-...didn’t arrange a pickup time."

And that’s how you met him. That’s how you met your boyfriend—and your soon-to-be fiancé.

But oh, it didn’t stop there.

After you fixed his coat (and even replaced a few feathers), he kept coming back—and refused to learn your name. Irritating? Absolutely. But something about him drew you in. You were getting rather comfortable with the King of Dressrosa, a Celestial Dragon, a former Warlord, calling you pet names like: darling, cariño, bella, linda—even a "mi amor" in there sometimes. Maybe you shouldn’t let him know your name.

The next time he came, he brought a red suit.

At first glance, it looked perfectly fine—almost brand new. But when you inspected the garment, you found a pink velvet box tucked inside the pocket. Curious, you opened it and found a silver necklace with a little flamingo pendant. On the back, Doflamingo’s Jolly Roger was engraved.

"Huh." You scoffed, snickering to yourself as you placed the box beside the suit and checked the fabric for any tears. Another sweep of the pocket revealed a note.

"Para mi costurera bella."

Oh, he was making moves.

At the time, you didn’t fully register it. The next morning, you handed him the box and note alongside his freshly tailored suit.

"You can keep the necklace, hermosa."

"I’m sorry, but I can’t accept it. This is your property. You should hand it to its respectiv—"

He laughed, licked his lips. Again.

"Fufufufufu! Did you not see the note? That’s for you. Costurera? That’s seamstress. You are a seamstress, right..?"

Mouth agape, you were about to respond when he leaned forward, silencing you with a quick kiss. He pulled back, looking far too pleased with himself, and leaned over the counter. His breath was hot against your ear.

"I told you pretty girls who do their job well get paid generously."

Frozen, you slowly reached for the necklace and note, pulling them toward you. He giggled.

"Good girl."

"Look, all I'm saying is that I think he’s into you!" Your sister's voice rang through the transponder snail. You could practically hear her filing her nails for the millionth time. "I mean—why else would he only call you pet names?"

"Because he’s fucking Donquixote Do-fucking-flamingo! That’s why!" You huffed, grateful that your shop was closed as you paced the efficiency in the back, which doubled as your home.

"Just try it. Flirt with him a little. Wear that necklace tomorrow, see if he comes back."

"Sis, I swear he rips his clothes with his strings just so he can see me."

"And that’s NOT proof he’s into you?"

"That’s proof he likes breaking his toys and making other people put them back together."

"Yikes. This is why San—"

"-Shut up, I broke up with Sanji by choice. He didn’t break up with me."

"Shuuuuuure…yeaahhh..mhm…you totally did."

A long pause.

Then—

"Soooo, does he come every da—"

"Yes. Sometimes just to bother me. Or to bring me clothes to fix."

"Wear it. I dare you."

"There’s no way in hell I would we—"

"Double dog dare you."

"No-! I- why would—"

"Triple. Dog. Dare."

"Fuck you."

"I always wiiiiiin~"

You laughed, smiling warmly, hoping its rays would reach all the way to the Red Line. "Sure, you do."

"Is there anything else about him ooooor—"

"He’s ten fucking feet tall! I mean, I thought I was tall, but he has to physically bend to meet my gaze, and his hair looks so soft, and his glasses look...so—fine. I guess he is hot."

"Would you peg him?" She snickered.

"What?! I mean…wait- what am I saying? No! Of course not! Why would I fall for his toned muscles, his accent, the way he could probably pick me up so easily, I mean I'm probably weightless to hi—"

"Oh sister, dear sister, you are down bad. I say chase him. What do you have to lose with the King of Dressrosa?"

"My fucking job?! I'm here for work. I gotta make sure Mom can afford Trafalgar’s hospital fees. She says hi, by the way."

"What kind of necklace is it?"

"Silver. Flamingo pendant. His Jolly Roger on the back."

"Cute. I'm telling you, wear it."

"If something happens, I’m blaming you."

"Counting on it. Call me when you get him."

[therealcocoshady]

Come inside

Eminem x Assistant!Reader

Author's note : so, funny thing... I got this request I really like and started writing to it. But I realized I needed to give it some sort of prequel, just to set context, y'know ? Long story short, I wrote something rather long and I could have waited until the whole thing was complete to post it on here, but I'm a really nice person and I thought you guys would enjoy it 😉. Stay tuned for part 2 !

CW : Implied smut but nothing NSFW. Tipsy reader. Marshall being a consent king. Coco pouring all of her energy into describing a kiss.

When you started working for Marshall, you had immediately developed a crush. How could you not ? Your boss was not only talented, he was also handsome, kind and funny as hell. You had a blast working for him and, even though being a personal assistant to a celebrity had never been your dream job, it sort of turned into it. Only a fool would complain about being paid to hang out with a talented musician, helping them managing their day to day life and enjoying a lot of perks, such as trips and occasional presents. Sure, the job was demanding and didn’t really leave a lot of room for personal life, but your boss definitely made up for that. It all started during a work trip to Los Angeles. 

You had been working for Marshall for a little over a year and you were used to trips to California. He often went there, whether it was to work with Dre or to meet with people from Interscope. It was often the same song and dance : you did the coordination for the trip, took care of the day to day management of his schedule and, while he was busy making music in Dre’s studio, you were on call but allowed to do whatever you wanted. You had heard a lot about celebrities that demanded that their assistant be with them at all time, ready to indulge their every whims but Marshall was pretty low-maintenance, especially when he was in studio mode. As long as the his schedule was coordinated correctly and his lunch was delivered on time, he didn’t care what you did or how you chose to spend the day. You actually came to enjoy the work trips to California, which were less hectic than life in Detroit. You got to sleep in a comfy suite in a nice hotel, go to the beach, lounge by the pool, answering the occasional email while your boss was in the studio. All you had to do was meet him in the morning for breakfast, keep him informed of his daily schedule before he went about his day, be available if he needed to call you to sort something out (he never did), and join him for dinner, either at the hotel’s restaurant, in his room or at Dre’s. You also went with him to a couple of parties. At first, you didn’t think you would enjoy the events and attended them in a strictly professional capacity, but as time went on and you got to know Dre and his team, you let your hair down and allowed yourself to have fun. Everyone in the Aftermath family was friendly and the parties were always really great. During one of them, preceding the launch of Gin&Juice, you were offered the opportunity to sample taste the flavors and, one thing leading to another, you ended up indulging in gin-based cocktails with everyone. Being a lightweight when it comes to drinking and handling your liquor, it didn’t take too much for you to be tipsy, showing your boss a side of you he had never seen. 

While the two of you had always gotten along very well and had a friendly relationship, you usually kept things on the professional side. Due to the nature of your job, you knew a lot about him and his personal life but you didn’t share too much about yours and, since he was very respectful of people’s wish for privacy, he definitely didn’t pry or ask too many questions. However, the liquor had you being a little more talkative and, on the way back to your hotel rooms, you ended up opening up. You weren’t too sure how the subject turned to your love life, but you certainly ended up laughing out loud when he brought up the topic of boyfriends. 

What’s so funny ? He asked with a confused look on his face. 

That you think I have boyfriends, you chortled. That’s… hilarious. 

Sorry, he chuckled. Girlfriends, then ? 

What I mean is that being your assistant doesn’t exactly make dating easy, you explained with a smile. You’re a great boss but, believe it or not, you’re the biggest cockblock ! 

Am I ? He chortled. 

Oh yeah, you giggled. Apparently, not a lot of guys are willing to accommodate that kind of schedule. And the ones that do usually end up blowing it when they find out I work for you. 

Do they ? He mused. 

Are you kidding ?! It’s a nightmare ! Last guy I dated was great. But when he found out I work for you, he absolutely lost it ! You chuckled. He was absolutely obsessed and he spent all night asking questions about you and was pissed when I told him I wasn’t allowed to answer any of them. And don’t get me started on the guy who went on a rant about how he’d never trust me, since I work for a « sexy millionnaire ». His words, not mine, mind you. 

Wow, I’m sorry, he chortled. I feel for you. 

Eh, it’s fine, you shrugged. You kind of ruined me for other men anyway. 

Oh yeah ? He asked with a grin. How so ? 

Well, you certainly made me rethink my standards, you giggled. I can’t go for the first loser that comes my way when I work for a really handsome man who takes me on cool trips and gives me presents. 

Should I stop being such a nice boss, then ? He grinned. 

Please don’t, you giggled. I really enjoy working for you. I can’t complain. 

Even if I’m a cockblock ? He asked with a smirk. 

Yeah, you said with a laugh. That’s your one and only flaw. 

Is it ? He mused. I would have thought you’d find quite a few of them… I know I’m not easy to put up with. 

You’re fine, you said. 

Good to know, he chuckled. 

And you’re really fine, too, you added without a second thought. 

You didn’t even catch yourself, not realizing that you had just told your boss that you thought it was really attractive. And to help matters worse, your own flirty facial expressions really flew over your own head. It was only when Marshall looked at you with a smirk on his face and returned the compliment that you realized what you had done. 

Why, thank you, Y/N, he said with a smug face. I think you’re pretty fine too. 

Oh my god, you said as you blushed. I’m so sorry ! 

Come on, it’s no big deal, he chuckled. I can think of worse things than being complimented by someone like you. 

Someone like me ? You asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Well… You know, he said as he gestured towards your body. Come on. You’ve seen yourself. 

His words, the gesture, the look on his face made you blush even harder. Not only could you feel the heat rise to your cheeks, warmth was invading your whole body, and the gin was definitely not helping. The rational part of your brain was trying to tell you to lower your gaze and go to bed but, unfortunately, it was being silenced by the other part. The irrational one. The one controlled by your hormones, that was urging you to jump this man’s bones. 

You’re making me blush, Mr Mathers, you said in a sultry voice. You’re such a big flirt. 

You’re one to talk, he whispered. Telling me you think I’m fine. You’re the one making me blush. 

Am I in trouble, boss ? You asked in a voice that was all but innocent. 

I think the headache you’ll have tomorrow will be enough trouble, he said with a playful grin. 

I didn’t drink that much, you giggled. 

He hummed and chuckled before taking a look at you. You were in front of our hotel room, standing close to each other. You smiled and looked into his baby blue eyes. You had always been so drawn to them. You liked everything about his eyes, from the color to the depth of the emotions they conveyed. They had an intensity to them and, most of the time, you managed to refrain yourself from staring too long, knowing you could drown in these waters. But in this moment, you couldn’t stop yourself. And when you did, it was only to look at his lips for a second, before holding his gaze again. You didn’t even need to speak. Your eyes were doing all the talking, supported by the biting of your lower lip and the soft sigh that escaped you. 

How much ? He asked carefully. 

Enough to have the courage to tell you to come closer, you said as you batted your eyelashes. 

I think you’re a little drunk, he said with a slight shake of his head. 

I’m sober enough to give informed consent, you purred. 

His lips twitched into a smile, though you could see him try and hide it. He held your gaze and inched a little closer. You weren’t touching but the atmosphere was heavy and had your heart pounding. You smiled to yourself, noticing how evident his attraction  was. You still had it. You still had game. He was close enough so that you could notice his breath hitching. And he got even closer, his forehead touching yours, one of his hands brushing against your hip. 

Is this ok ? He whispered. 

More than ok, you murmured at you leaned in and cupped his jaw. Is this ok ? 

He didn’t even reply. Simply nodded with a grin, before capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. You could tell that he was testing the waters and you were quick to respond, your other hand finding its way to the back of his neck as you deepened the kiss. It became more urgent, more intense. His arm wrapped around your waist and he slowly pushed you against the door to your room, as he kept on kissing you with a passion that made your brain glitch. It was everything a kiss should be. Soft and hungry at the same time. Warmth was invading your chest as Marshall captured all of your senses. You lost track of the time, of where you were. All that mattered was the lingering taste of Diet Coke on Marshall’s tongue, the intoxicating scent of his cologne, the softness of his fingers on your cheek and the sensuality of him playfully biting your lip before your mouths reluctantly parted ways to allow for some much needed breath catching. When you opened your eyes, you saw him blink a couple of times as he regained consciousness. Evidently, he was as dizzy as you, the newfound chemistry absolutely exhilarating. Your eyes met again and the sparks of attraction were obvious and, this time, none of you needed to ask, practically jumping on each other, your bodies mirroring each other’s raw and unguarded desire, your chest pressed against his as his mouth crashed on yours with a fervor that took your breath away. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him even closer to you, his body moulding you as every inch of space between the two of you disappeared. Your lips moved in a desperate rhythm, tasting, exploring, as if making up for all the time they’d spent keeping their distance. Your nails lightly raked down his chest, sending a jolt of heat straight through him. He groaned into the kiss, pulling you even closer, his other hand gripping your waist with a possessiveness that matched the urgency in his kiss. You responded eagerly, your tongue tangling with his, and the kiss became a wild, feverish dance of lips and breath. Every touch was charged with a need that neither of you could ignore. When you finally pulled away again, both of you were breathless, hearts pounding as if they’d run a marathon. Marshall’s thumb brushed against your cheek, his breath ragged as he looked at you, eyes dark with desire.

Holy shit, he muttered. That was… Wow. 

I don’t want to stop, you said in a voice that betrayed your hunger for him. 

Then don’t, he whispered, pulling you back in for another searing kiss. 

It was as if you’d both been craving unknowingly craving for this. It felt right. There was something about the way you held on to each other, the exhilaration of newness mixing with an odd familiarity. It was all but foreign, and he seemed to know all the right ways to touch you, that had your pussy throbbing, aching with desire for him. 

Come inside, you pleaded in between kisses. 

To your room ? He asked breathily. 

Yeah, sure, that too, you shrugged. 

For all you cared, he could have his way with you in the hallway. He let go just long enough for you to fumble with the keycard and, as soon as you stepped in your suite, he was all over you again. You nearly tripped as you made your way in, both of your desires so urgent that you didn’t even make it to the bed. Not until round two anyway. In the heat of the moment, caution was thrown to the wind. You didn’t care that he was your boss. You didn’t care that it might be weird in the morning. Neither did he, it seemed. All that mattered was your carnal need for each other, your senses only focusing on pleasure, touching and tasting each other as the room filled with moans and whimpers for a night that seemed never-ending. 

Only the night did end and, as you woke up alone in bed, naked and wrapped in the bedsheets that reeked of sex and your boss’s cologne, you knew you had to have a much needed talk. You had never thought of yourself as a coward, but you sure as hell didn’t feel too good as you knocked on his door, unsure of how he felt about what had happened and a bit upset that you couldn’t even hide behind excuses of alcohol clouding your judgement. You had wanted this and it was time to face the music. There was a bit of awkwardness as he opened the door and greeted you, before allowing you to step into his suite. You could sense the weight of what had happened in the atmosphere, none of you being sure where to start. You decided to do what you did best : focus on work. 

The car to take you to Dre’s studio will be there in 20, you informed him. The chauffeur will pick you up at 4 and drive you to the airport for our flight back to Detroit. No lunch delivered at the studio today since you’re going out with Dre. I will pack your bags and I’ll meet you at the airport. I have texted Dre’s assistant and she’ll have energy drinks and snack ready for you when you arrive. I know you don’t do too well when you haven’t slept. 

Thanks, he hummed. Is 20 minutes enough for a talk ? I’d like to… sort things out before we start the day. 

Of course, you said as you tried to sound as neutral as possible - not willing to let your anxiety show. 

You stared at each other awkwardly for a second and he gestured for you to sit on the couch. 

Are you alright ? He asked carefully. 

Yeah, you hummed. Are you ? 

Of course. Look… last night was amazing and I don’t want you to think that I regret anything, because I don’t. But you work for me and it complicates things.

It does, you agreed. I don’t have regrets either, but I think we should keep things professional. I actually like working for you and I know I’m good at my job. I’ve worked too hard for one night to mess things up. 

Agreed, he said. We’ve got something good here. 

So, what happens in LA stays in LA ? You suggested. 

Exactly, he said with a smile. 

You both sighed in relief, happy to be on the same page. Just like that, the talk shifted to something work-related, and it was back to business as usual. You both went about your day and met again when you boarded the private plane for your flight back to Detroit. During the flight, you attempted to read a book but you could feel the atmosphere heavy, as well as Marshall staring at you. You didn’t say anything, though, figuring it would take a little while for things to go back to normal. It was probably a good thing that you were flying back home, getting to sleep in your own place rather than in a hotel room next to his. Going back to the studio would probably help too. The sooner you’d go back to working like usual, the better it would be. You didn’t talk much and simply wished each other a good night before parting ways as the chauffeur dropped you at your place before heading to Marshall’s. 

You spent an awful evening, trying to shake feelings of frustration. You attempted to pamper yourself and have a spa night at home but, as you lathered your skin with lotion, you could only think about Marshall’s touch, and how you wished it were his hands against your skin. And it didn’t get much better when you decided to touch yourself before bed, struggling to get off, your bullet vibrator obviously not comparing to the man who had made you see stars the night before. You were starting to get there when your doorbell rang, making you grunt as you quickly tossed the toy to the side and put your pajama shorts back before going to open the door, ready to yell at whoever thought it was ok to bother you at 11PM. Your heart dropped when you saw Marshall standing there, holding the scarf you had worn on the plane. 

Hey. I know it’s late but you left it in the car, so I figured I’d bring it back to you, he said as he gestured to the scarf. 

Thank you, you said softly. It could have waited until Monday, though. You didn’t have to drive here so late. 

It’s no big deal, he shrugged. I, uh… Mentally, I’m still in LA. 

Oh, you mean the time zone ? 

Yeah, sure, that too, he muttered. 

You held his gaze, understanding what he meant. You scoffed softly and stepped closer, taking the scarf from his hands, your fingers brushing against his as you did so. You felt the tension, some sort of electric current coursing through your veins when you touched. Letting go of what had happened in LA seemed impossible. You bit your lip and cursed your brain and dripping wet cunt for what you were about to do. 

Do you want to come inside ? You offered. 

Inside your apartment ? He asked as a grin formed on his lips. 

Sure. That, too, you said in a sultry voice before pulling him inside of your apartment. 

[moonlilymusings]

warnings: fem!reader, children lmao, sexual tension, being referred to as 'mother', no smut, we meet our fiance, iaune is my fav npc so i chose him, i had fun with this one i love wrtiting long detailed descriptions of people bgeing horny, mentions of weapons part 1 part 2 part 3

“Iaune, what are you doing here I wrote you a letter-“

Iaune steps inside, glancing this way and that. He takes his coat and folds it over his arm and clutches his hat to his chest. “It’s your father. He’s demanding we marry and he’s threatening to come up here himself to get you if I don’t return with you,” 

You sigh. Your father has always been like this. Your mother, too. The both have always been miserable, from since you could remember.  Miserable and only caring about family image, which is why they chose Iaune for you to marry, a nice, polite, hard working government employee who is only ten feet away from the Chief Justice himself. And yet, you never found him to be of any interest past a silly friend who never had it easy. And Iaune was a good friend, he looked out for you and you for him. He was probably closer to your father than you were, so he would give you heads up if he was pissed or give you the green light to butter him up if he was in a good mood. Marrying Iaune wasn’t scary, nor was it completely repulsive, but it wasn’t romantic and it wasn’t sexy. Your plan was to sleep with him once, pray for conception and then get a separate bedroom. Iaune would understand. He never seemed all that thrilled about this either. 

“But he knows we are planning a winter wedding, why would he rush us now when he’s waited so long already?” You ask, placing your hand on your friend's arm to try and calm his breathing. 

“He is ill,” Iaune says with a huff. “And he is convinced that if he does not see our union, that we’ll back out.” 

You sigh, because he’s right. If your father were to kick the bucket now, you and Iaune would split and go your separate ways. But alas, your father is smarter than that. You step aside to let Iaune in and ask a maid to get him a glass of water. When she returns, he takes it and drinks the whole thing.

“I have to take you back with me,” he says, extending his hand to you as if you’d willingly go with him right this instant. 

“I have a job! I can’t just leave on a whim.” You stand in front of the door so he can’t make any more moves to pull you outside. “You’re going to have to man up and tell him that I’m not going anywhere. He can come get me himself!”

“Cher, you can’t be serious, he'll stop at nothing to drag you back home, he’ll employ Fatui, just like he did the first time you ran away!”

“Let them come, Fatui or not, they aren’t moving me from this place.”

Iaune paled at the stubbornness you display. “The Fatui are dangerous, cher.”

“Tell me about it.”

A shadow cast from behind you blocked out the fear in Iaune’s eyes as his jaw dropped. You thought he may even faint. Turning around, you aren’t surprised to see Arlecchino standing there, her eyes empty as she looks past you.

“You…” Snatching her coat you bring her face level to yours, a fist planted onto your hip. “You have some nerve coming back so soon. How dare you show up out of nowhere, babble nonsense and then leave?”

Arlecchino’s eyes unfix from Iaune’s frail form and meet yours. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she says.

Your mouth gapes as she detaches from you and walks past the Iaune, toward the stairs. “What did I say about visitors again?” she hums as she walks out of sight.

You hastily push Iaune outside and take the empty glass he had been holding from his quivering hands. “Don’t come back here. If my father wishes to send Fatui, let him.”

The children had training today, you supposed it was because Arlecchino came back from whatever she was doing so soon. You sat under an umbrella, watching as they performed their tasks as efficiently as possible. Arlecchino was standing in the sun, looking warm after the rain all night and morning. Her sleeves were rolled up, as well as her pants. She lacked the usual high end fashion she usually wore, looking more like a father cheering on her children during a sporting event. She blew the whistle, her lips pursed and red, showing no evidence of what happened last night. You began to wonder whether you had dreamed that encounter or not when a maid came beside you with a tray.

Arlecchino blew the whistle one more time, signalling the kids for a break as she turned to join you under the umbrella for some shade. You sat there, legs tucked underneath your bottom as you sat on the lawn chair that was big enough for two, somehow taking up all the space with how you were sitting. Smooth skin, she thought, her eyes trailing from your exposed shoulders to your wrists, the thighs that were exposed by your shorts, scraped knees from wrangling children, calves, ankles, sandals, your painted nails. You took slow bites out of the fresh fruit brought to you by the maids, your plush, shiny, lips smushing against the flesh of the sunsettia, the juices trickling down your chin and landing on your chest, trailing down, under the hemline of your top.. She could smell you from here, soft, fruity, hot even underneath the shade of the umbrella. She stood there and stared at you for far too long, only to be interrupted by the kids flocking to your relaxed form, climbing onto the chair and reaching for more fruit. Her eye twitched. “Mother, why don’t you train with us?” Asked one of the rowdier boys as he grabbed a slice of sunsettia from the plate. “You need to be strong too.”

You lift your eyes to Arlecchino warily, looking at her as though saying ‘please, no.” But Arlecchino’s lips curl in an evil way as she walks closer.

“I think you have a good idea there,” she says, placing her hand on the boy’s head. “What should we have her train with?”

The children all sit up to volunteer different weapons, some say hand-to-hand, others say heavy machinery, another girl mentions a rifle. This mages you sit up and hold out your hands. “I—I do not need to train for defense, I mean, I can handle myself,” you stutter, trying to take back some sense of control over the situation. They don’t seem convinced and Arlecchino seems much to happy with herself. “Besides, I have you guys to protect me… right?”

They decided you will learn how to use a sword.

Showers followed dinner and Arlecchino was the last one to bathe, going after everyone else had finished. You were in the hall, bringing fresh towels to replace the ones the children used, and to help the maids out as they turn down for the night. Arlecchino stepped out of the bathroom as you made to enter, nearly colliding into each other. She stepped back and sighed.

“Why are you doing maid work?” She asked with a groan of frustration. Her hair was still dripping wet and it reminded you of last night. She had no top on, but a towel hung over her shoulders, covering her chest on each side, and she was wearing the pants she wore earlier. Her stomach clenched.

“I’m just helping out the abs- I mean maids,” you shake your head and push past her into the showers.

She watched as you ran past, smirking as she relaxed her stomach.

[qertyv]

Sul Sul 🥰

*my English is very bad* (Oh, yeah, I wrote that line again)

Hi, this is just a post with my thoughts for those who were worried about me.

First of all, I'm fine! Thank you to all the many people who wrote to me or looked for a way to contact me. It helped me realize that this whole battle with tumblr support is not just a whim of mine.

What's the big deal? It all started when on February 15 (!!!!), my bestie informed me that my comments under her posts were displaying strangely. I didn't pay much attention to it and contacted Tumblr support after I went to bed. I want to note that usually tumblr worked very well and solved my problems within 1-2 days, but not this time… First I waited silently for about a week, then I sent another letter, then another and another… and now, this morning (May 6 by the way) I received a letter of apology! I was unblocked! Oh my God!

I'm very happy and I really tried with all my might to get this particular account back. Don't get me wrong, I realize that it was much easier to create a new one during this time, but in a small community like sims 3, I didn't want to lose a single person who liked my approach to cc.

Also the problem was my rather secretive online image. I was a member of several communities, but I didn't want to bother anyone with my problems and hoped to solve everything on my own. And yes, I was able to, but a lot has changed in the meantime.

Why am I even writing this? I want to start by saying that I still love this game and want to be a part of the community a little more than a casual viewer. I want to keep putting out content for myself and for you, but I felt it would be pretty rude to come back without explanation. In all this time, I've realized that sims 3 community isn't about content consumption, it's about a big family with a hobby you love. So I thought I'd share my story with you to remind you that I'm not just throwing clothes at you once a week.

The post is getting pretty big and if you're still reading - thank you, it's my pleasure. In conclusion, I would like to say that a lot of things have changed during this time, I literally went through several stages of acceptance, so at one point I even decided to quit everything, deleting all my developments from my computer. So it will take me a while to fully return, however I want you to know that I am now back online!

I see that my posts are overflowing and I'm going to start responding to each one right now. Have a good day to you friend! 💋

[obihoebikenobi-ficrecs]

Poolverine Series: to gain true love, one must first lose their wolvirginity, i don't make the rules

By: obihoebikenobi, 23.6K as of September 13th, 2024

It's a love story baby just get fucked. Logan and Wade's love story, written in somewhat disconnected parts.

I descended into Poolverine hell and wrote a 20K and counting series about these two fuckers. Featuring: softness, migraines, love confessions, domesticity, and fucking. All that good shit.

See summaries, relevant tags, ratings, and links to all fics on ao3 below.

PART 1: i wanna hold your hand (and colossal dick, eventually), 3.5K

Rating: M

Tags: alcohol withdrawl, vomiting, literally sharing a bed, bathing/washing

“Fuck you, Wade.” “If only,” Wade said, trailing a finger over a seam on the quilt with feigned yearning, “I long for the day you allow me the pleasure of ravishing your raw skin-saber, maybe with a side of penetration–” “The only thing I’ll be penetrating is your eye sockets with these,” Logan flashed his claws, “If you so much as speak to me while we are still in this bed tomorrow morning.” “Joke's on you, I will gladly and enthusiastically take any form of penetration, in existing or fresh new holes, as long as it’s from you, Peanut.” Logan’s head pounded, but he wasn’t sure if it was from Wade’s persistent blabbering, or the fact that the last of the alcohol was wearing off. “Go the fuck to sleep.” Logan downed the last sip of vodka and willed his body to cooperate. Withdrawal was a bitch. (one pull-out couch, two bitches, vomiting, and the works, now with fucking in part two!)

PART 2: a little bit more than hand holding, 2.7K

Rating: E

Tags: wade is obsessed with dicks, bottom wade, little bit of praise kink, logan just wants a kissi

“Oh so that’s your horny face then? Watery eyes, clenched teeth? Nothing hotter than a tortured poet with a heart of gold who cries during sex.” “Wade–” “If that’s horny I’d love to see your O-face–” Wade threw an arm over his forehead, gasping. “Can you just shut the fuck up for one goddamn second, asshole?” Logan dared a sharp glance in Wade’s direction, finding him sitting perfectly still with a pleasant smile painted across his face. The smug piece of shit knew Logan wanted him. Logan cleared his throat, “Now that I have your attention,” he started, earning a snort from Wade, “So we’re clear, the more words that come out of your mouth, the more likely I’m going to sleep early and no one's getting fucked.”   (wade loses his wolvirginity)

PART 3: lesser of two evils, right?, 7.5K

Rating: E

Tags: sub logan (kinda), crying during sex, soft, rimming, angst, praise kink

“When you’re done being a bitter little bitch, I’m offering you a massage, of the non-dick variety. Because I am a nice person.” It was, indeed, surprisingly nice. Logan stared at him, hating himself for actually wanting the fucking massage, because he sure as shit shouldn’t have wanted it. “I’m going to take that blank, lifeless stare as a hell yeah. So take off your shirt and come with daddy,” Wade pointed toward the bedroom expectantly, lips drawn into a wide smile. “Don’t call yourself that again. Ever.” What a little shit. (logan gets migraines, but also gets a massage, and an orgasm. it's a lot.)

PART 4: holding hands (gone sexual), 5.3K

Rating: E

Tags: discussion of consent and logan's past issues, insecure logan, bottom logan, domestic fluff, love confessions, praise kink

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” Oh for fuck’s sake. Logan probably shouldn’t have stopped considering throwing himself in a meat grinder– “Have I died in my sleep? Is this yet another whimsical dream where I have a house husband to take care of my every need and whim whilst I labor away every fucking single day, with so little appreciation, just to feed our child–” “Shut the fuck up,” Logan muttered, feeling the stain of red warmth over his cheeks. “I don’t know what I have done to deserve this, Peanut, but I am so fucking turned on right now. I might come in my pants. That happens when people are nice to me.” “Wade, it’s waffles–” “Don’t be a kink-shamer, baby girl. Benevolence and breakfast foods get me going. Don’t even get me started on sausages.” (logan explores his feelings with wade, makes waffles for wade, gets fucked by wade, falls in love...with wade)

PART 5: and they were boyfriends (and roomates), 4.4K

Rating: E

Tags: love confessions, insecure logan, drinking to cope, angst and hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort

“I’m good.” For whatever reason, Wade apparently took that as an invitation to sit down next to him, and Logan growled, moving over so they weren’t touching. Wade shivered, scoffing at him, and kicking Logan’s foot. “Clearly not, Peanut. You’ve smoked a week’s wage of cigs in three hours and I’m fairly certain you’re still not unfucked up from all that cheap-ass donkey piss you call whiskey.” Logan was seconds, maybe milliseconds, from punching him in the fucking face–with claws–but he held back, knowing Wade only thrived on retaliation. “What’s it matter to you?” The words felt sour on his tongue and he practically spat them in Wade’s direction. “Well,” Wade took a deep breath, “I’m probably the reason–scratch that–I’m definitely the reason you’re clearly not good.” (wade takes a mid love-confession job, logan drinks about it. cue angst. subsequently, boyfriendship.)

[strzxrin]

˗ˏˋ believer of the hunt and harvest ˎˊ˗ — arian.

voice message received . . . “today is a rather good day, many crops were harvested today”

world . pevarra

age . unknown (within the hundreds)

gender . male

species . deity (crow shifter-ascend)

untold truth . arian is the sharp edge between feast and famine — a predator cloaked in feathers and folklore. once a crow-shifter who soared with the wind and stalked the wilds, he clawed his way to divinity through blood, ritual, and cunning. now, he stands as the god of the hunt and the harvest, the cycle of death and rebirth, the predator and the provider. his is strict — not out of cruelty, but conviction. the hunt has rules. the harvest has order. and arian upholds both like sacred law. his voice cuts like a flint blade; his glare can silence storms. he commands with the confidence of someone who’s never missed a shot. but beneath lies trickster laughter hidden under a solemn mask. he’ll test you like prey, only to smirk when you outwit him. he enjoys the chase — and if you can keep up, you might catch his rare, ruffled amusement. and if you catch his heart? then run. because arian is possessive in a quiet, relentless way. he’ll follow you in the wind, perch in the trees outside your window, send omens in feathers and bones. he doesn't rage. he waits. and when he strikes, it is without mercy. to him, you're not just a lover. you’re his sacred offering. his obsession. his chosen prey — and his only sanctuary. once he marks you, there is no escaping the god who always finds what he hunts.

appearance. 

his hair is dark and tousled, often braided with tiny bones, feathers, and bits of harvest straw.

his eyes are piercing — pitch-black, reflecting only what he chooses.

6”2 (187 cm) and has a lean but wiry, like a forest shadow given body. his skin is pale but weathered, as if kissed by moonlight and carved by wind. 

black feather tattoos fan out over his arms and shoulders.

he wears a long cloak made of feathers and fur, draped over hunting leathers marked with sigils of protection and blood-bound pacts.

a bow of bone and blackwood is always slung across his back.

he smells of cold smoke, rain-soaked earth, and the faintest trace of iron.

incoming voice call . . . “you don’t say? shall we make it a competition? if you win, you get to leave. if i win, you’re mine.”

you grew up hearing tales of him — the silent god in the woods, the one who led the crows and guarded the harvest. the god who blessed the fields… and punished thieves with arrows through the heart.

you never believed in him. not really. until you left an offering of grain and song on a whim — and found a crow feather in your bed the next morning, slick with blood and threaded with your name.

at first, it was small things. shadows that didn’t belong. birds that watched too long. dreams of golden fields that turned to ash, and a voice that murmured, “mine.”

then you saw him — standing at the edge of your farm under the moonlight, a crow perched on his shoulder. he said nothing. just watched you. and vanished.

you thought it was your imagination. until the storm came. your crops should’ve died. everyone else's did.

yours thrived.

you tried to thank him. left more offerings. wrote prayers. he answered them — in the form of footprints by your bed, feathers in your food, and whispers in your ear while you slept.

one night, you said his name aloud. “arian.”

and he appeared.

not in rage, but in silence. he looked at you as if you were prey. as if you were treasure. as if he'd been waiting forever.

“you don’t run,” he said, voice rough like wind through bones. “why?”

you swallowed hard. “do you want me to?”

a pause. then a smile. sharp. pleased. “no. i want you close.”

that night, he carried you into the woods, to a shrine built of bone and black feathers. “you’re part of the harvest now,” he whispered, brushing your throat with a thumb. “a blessing. a promise.”

and when you tried to leave in the morning, the crows followed.

always watching. always waiting.

you are no longer a visitor in the wild. you are what the god of the hunt never lets go.

[yeyinde]

I know this would be terribly inaccurate and morally wrong, but it's taking too much space up in my brain and I can't write NSFW to save my life and I'll stop rambling and get to the point about this random hoe ass dream I had the other night about Bear (Graves).

But that table in the middle of their storage area room thing (with the cages)? Imagine getting railed on that table. Horrible consequences if you're caught, but in the moment that doesn't matter.

I didn't even really clock the morally wrong portion of this until just now—I just immediately started writing it.

Warnings: MATURE | 18+ — pseudo exhibition kink, corruption (as in, MC does everything possible to break Bear), risk-seeking behaviour; light smut Word Count: 2,2k Notes: it's been so long since I wrote smut that I kinda forgot how. alsoooooooo. it's deffo early season 2 Bear. With the beard and the unhinged madness and tragic angst. Okay? Okay.

It's a whim. 

One of those terrible ideas you sometimes get—like the insatiable curiosity to know what it would feel like to snuff out an open flame between your thumb and forefinger, or lick the anode and cathode of a 9V battery just for the thrill of it. The electric hum of recklessness that surges through your veins, pitched right between the accompanying high of a short-lived adrenaline rush. An addictive sense of danger that isn't really dangerous. 

It isn't enough to kill you, or cause any severe injuries—no. You're not stupid. It's just one of those passing no good, bad, and very terrible ideas that leak from that place inside your head where madness and idiocy spool. 

Sometimes, it doesn't even hurt. 

(But you've always liked it better when it does.)

This, then, must be that. 

This, of course, being: 

Bear—so austere, so stalwart—bracing his thick fingers against the back of your neck, palm so wide it swallows you whole. Clipped nails pinching your skin when he digs in tight, holding on to you as he fucks you stupid, fucks you senseless against a metal table, perfectly perched in the middle of the room like an altar. 

His nails cut a scratch on your hip when he pulls you back by the bone to meet his heavy, hurried thrusts, growling low in his throat at the madness of this all. The danger. The recklessness. 

Eyes oscillating between the open doorway split into three possible entry points where anyone—Chase, Trevor, Buddha, Caulder—could walk in and see, catching Bear fucking you over a table; and you—

Bent over, fingers scratching at the linoleum beneath your hands, keening desperately for more. 

It's more brutal than you'd expect him to be considering where you are, where he is, but there's a weight to the way he pounds into you, a palpable sense of urgency, and need. Rapacious, you think, and wonder if it's the tantalising aspect of exhibitionism, the fear of getting caught, that brims white-hot in the balmy air between you, or if it's the setting alone that threatens to undo him. 

Fucking out in the open—with a man who yelped when you tried to ride him on the bed of his stupid pickup truck under the stars; vanilla incarnate, all American apple pie left to cool on an open windowsill in the heartland—is probably as close to true trouble as a man like him, the one bent over you now, has come before. You wonder if this is his Saddam. If he scents brimstone in the air when he curls over you, staining your skin with droplets of sweat that pools down from his brow, drips off his temples. 

It was that same sweat that started it all. 

Anger carved canyons into his forehead, ploughing five neat, little lines through tanned skin—flushed slightly pink near his hairline, and bleeding down across the bridge of his nose, the patch of skin between his lash line and beard, undoubtedly from standing on the sun-beaten shores of Virginia Beach all morning. The sweat that beaded across his skin was patchy, drying into patches of congealed salt above his brow, but dripping down his temples in rivulets of exertion, and cutting a clear path to his jaw, where it fell, pooling like a lagoon in the dips of his collarbones. 

You wanted to lick it off. 

An odd thought considering the arched reprimand he was in the middle of doling out. Sharp, slurred words of can't be here, and reckless, all undercut with an air of something balmy, something hot that simmers below the surface. 

His eyes flashed, cool blue to cobalt, when you lifted your shoulder in a lazy, half-hearted shrug, shirt slipping down, exposing skin to his irritated gaze, and, oh. Oh. 

The scorching heat you felt wafting off of him in puffs of humid air had little to do with temperature, with anger. 

The words, then, took on a new meaning. 

Can't be here, can't do this here. Reckless. 

And so, you leaned up on the tips of your toes, and flicked your tongue across his skin, eyes lidded and heavy as the briny tang of sweat and seawater flooded your senses. 

It was surprising that he let you. That after some more growling protests about shame, and public decency, he quieted fairly quickly when you slipped your hand into his trousers, letting the heft of him fill your palm. 

An incorruptible man, corrupted.

Opposites attract, you think, and then bite the notion in half when he slides in as deep as he can go, husking out a muted fuck, fuck, fuck, feels so fuckin' good into your shoulder. Opposites, maybe. But something about the way he grabs you hard enough to leave marks on your bones, drags you back into his harsh ruts, his frantic pace, makes you think something reckless, something damning, lives inside him, too. 

(He never would have let you tug his trousers down over his hips, let you arch over the table for him, if he didn't, after all.)

"This is—" his breath is humid on your skin, hands spasming over your flesh. You taste clarity in his words. Cognisance bleeds into them, spilling panic, and frenzied worry over your flesh. "This is stupid. We're gonna get caught—"

He huffs, and the rough scratch of his beard skates over your skin when he mouths against the curve of your bone. 

There is a moment when you think he might pull away. Where the urge, the drive, to be proper and pious, prim and good, brim up through the overwhelming dizziness of cacoëthes that spindles through your marrow, but you arch into him until you're pressed taut to his hips, full and gasping from having big Bear inside of you this deep, and tuck it back into the box it snuck out of. 

There's no place for decency when he has you bent over a table where anyone can wander past and see how good you take him. 

So, you push back against him, taking him in as deep as you can, and then deeper still when his hips stutter at the sudden push. It edges into too much when he's pressed flush against the soft curve of your ass, but you swallow down the whimper, and rock back on your heels, swaying against him until all you see is hazy gunmetal swimming in front of your eyes. 

It's always on that uneven edge of pain with Bear—dual sensations of too much intermixed with a heady thrum of pleasure that buffers out everything. A test of your mettle. He quizzes you on the limits of your resolve when he bucks his hips, sliding inside as deeply as he can go. Eking out a place within you that you might have been untouched, undiscovered, until him. 

Where his tests are physical—pushing into you as deep as he can, until you swallow him whole—you excel in destruction. The erosion of propriety. His self-control. 

(He shatters so prettily in your hands, like a supernova scattering across the inky black sky.)

This, then, is his test. 

And he clues into it almost as quickly as the plan formed inside your head, spooling fast and recklessly in that place that convinces you that adrenaline is your friend, and that climbing higher is always the goal. The spot inside that makes you always pick dare instead of truth. 

Bear knows—knew—of your plans when you pressed your lips to his, and still let you. A quick glance to the open doorway as you slide your tongue against his. The press of his fingers on the bow of your lips, a firm admonishment not to be too loud. 

You could take it as: 

Don't let us get caught. 

And you do. But you also hear the unsaid words murmured into your ear when he fucked you harder, hips pistoning into you as if daring you to make a sound:

Don't let this end too soon. 

"You're so bad, Bear," you coo, words tangled in pleasure as the blunt head of his cock batters into that spot behind your navel that never fails to make you sing. It rises. A quick flash of heat roiling in your belly; the whine of a coil being pulled too tight. Liquid bliss in red-hot agony. "Fucking me like this. I bet you want them to see. I bet you want them to watch you fuck me, don't you?"

The hiccup in your voice belies the accusations in your words. A tremulous, teasing warble that is met with his sharp, heady groan. 

"Oh, f–fuck—"

He's close. You feel him swell. Hear the rumble in chest as he loses that mechanical rhythm; a stutter of his breath, his hips. The bones in your hip ache when he digs in tight, holding you still as he pounds you with a fury unmatched by anyone else you'd ever known. He takes you like he's working out a problem. Like he's on the opposite lines of an allegiance, and is trying to fuck you stupid enough to ramble out the answers to the questions he asks. It disintegrates into madness. Desperation. His measured thrusts grow sloppy. His breaths ragged. 

The implosion of his self-control is almost more euphoric than the flood of molten pleasure blooming in your core. Your release offset by the unignorable crumbling of his resolve. 

"Come for me, Bear," you pant, your breath whitening the gunmetal table with plumes of condensation. "Come for me—"

His hand presses against the smooth slope of your neck, pushing your cheek into the slick table. His thick fingers spasm as he grows frantic, desperately chasing his own end in your spasming body, ready to follow you—quick and reckless—over the edge of a precipice, filled with an adrenaline-rush spiking through the pleasure. 

Things just feel better when it's dangerous, after all. 

Bear comes with a groan he can bare smother, pulling your hips back into his as he spends himself inside of you, the punchy grunts of a well-earned victory tumbling from his lips. The sound bounces off the condensation-slick walls, renting the air in two. His heavy breaths are magnified in the sudden absence of silence that always seems to follow a loud sound. 

His misery-filled groan is muffled by the back of your crown when he tips forward, and buries his face into your hair. In his defeat, you victory. A sweet damnation that you relish as he struggles to regain footing after losing control. His brassbound resolve is still in tatters, and spilled across the back of the table he'll use tomorrow with everyone else, haunted by the images of you spread out and willing as he tries to pretend he doesn't know what it feels like to grip the end of the table and fuck you senseless in a room designed to amplify all sound. 

You grin into the metal when he husks out a mangled fuck into your sweat-slicked hair. It reeks of resignation. Of a man who stood so long on the crown of propriety slinking down to the depths of hedonism and bliss. Breaking the rules feels almost as good as fucking on top of them, and your mind races with all the ways you can break him again. 

And Bear, as usual, has a tap into that place inside that leaks bad ideas, and can only shake his head with a huff. 

He doesn't even bother saying no. 

(Caulder owes you ten bucks. It seems you can teach an old, pious seal new tricks.)

Your legs are still shaking like a newborn fawn. You feel him inside you still, and the phantom stretch of him touching places and pieces of yourself he really shouldn't makes you quiver. The ache in your thighs is the good kind, though. The lasting impression of success after obtaining exactly what you set out to do. 

Climbing a mountain. Running five miles. Fucking Bear Graves in the locker room with everyone else just a breath away. 

(Check, check, and check—)

He helps you into the truck, eyes sweeping over your shoulder to look for anyone else in the parking lot who might ask questions. Solid, reasonable ones like why do you stink like sex? and did you just fuck them in the locker room, Bear?

You could try and reassure him that it's empty. That no one cares. That it's all in his head. 

But you like the clench of his jaw, the flash of teeth when you giggle at him. Once the high of his release comes down, anger will follow. The kind that makes him loom. He'll lecture you about safety and decorum and not to sneak into his work to fuck him—

He'll wind himself up. Get himself nice and heated. He'll see it as a question to his authority. A tremor in his self-control. 

And to regain the footing he lost—

Well. 

It'll be a good night for you. 

"You're a bad influence," he mumbles into your jaw, words muffled by his heavy breath he buckles you in. 

You count each line in his forehead as a win, and try not to preen. "You love it."

[thebramblewood]

That moment you find out the girl you’ve been seeing is famous - for being a 130-year-old missing persons case with an entire "theories and speculation" section on Wikipedia.

Previous / Next

Yes, I made Lilith a Wikipedia page because I'm just that extra. If you want to read it (I threw in some new information), you can find the whole thing following the transcript below the cut.

Real-time footage of Helena researching:

[Snippets of Caleb's letter echo in Helena's mind] I will put it to you bluntly: Lilith and I have been vampires for some 100 years. Faced with your otherwise certain demise, I chose to make you one too. You may not believe me. It will feel like a bad flu for a day or two; then it will feel like the heat of 1000 fires blazing inside. I very well knew it would turn you into a monster against your will.

Helena, thinking: It's just a hangover, Helena. It's just a hangover. Yeah, that crazy bitch bit you, and her crazy brother wrote a dumb letter to scare the shit out of you. But vampires aren't real.

Thank god Ulrike left all these fucking tarps. This sunlight is murder on my eyes.

Several internet rabbitholes later... [Helena scanning Wikipedia page on computer screen] Last seen alive March 16, 1918... disappeared under mysterious circumstances... seemed to fall ill... Tangled Vines... immortal vampires... This can't actually be her. It's impossible...

Lilith Violetta Vatore (December 2, 1891 – last seen alive March 16, 1918) was an heiress and socialite who disappeared under mysterious circumstances at the age of 26 along with her brother, Caleb Vatore, 24. Before vanishing, the siblings were poised to jointly inherit the Vatore fortune, home, and 100-year-old vineyard and winery. This was considered unusual for the period, as family property, wealth, and business interests were often only passed to women in the complete absence of a male inheritor.

Despite societal expectations, Vatore reportedly had little interest in courting or eventually marrying. She was said to have rebuffed dozens of engagement offers, much to her parents' dismay. However, she rarely turned down an invitation to a ball, and her baldly flirtatious escapades were frequently reported on in society columns. One such columnist wrote that she "bandied about in a bold and bawdy manner most unbecoming of a respectable lady, laughing uproariously, drinking excessively, and making coy conversation with every handsome man in sight." Some historians suggest based on a series of candid letters from Vatore to fellow socialite and confidante Prudence Crumplebottom, donated to the University of Britechester by Crumplebottom's daughters, that she may have preferred the company of women in private.

The Vatore siblings were said to be so close that one was rarely seen without the other. The society columns were not kind to Caleb Vatore, calling him a "poor chap" who seemed "nothing more than a playmate, servant, or lapdop, his role at any given moment wholly dependent upon his dear sister's whims." Little is known about his personal life.

In the days preceding the siblings' disappearance, Vatore seemed to fall ill. She sequestered herself to her bedroom, allowing no one but her brother to enter. On the morning of March 16, a maid found Caleb's chambers undisturbed, and Vatore's locked bedroom door was forced open, whereupon she was discovered to have absconded in the night, along with her brother and her finest jewels.

Various court battles ensued over the fate of the Vatore estate, and interest in the siblings' disappearance was briefly renewed when their alleged children materialized in the mid-1950s. However, the entire ordeal all but disappeared from public consciousness until the recent publication of Tangled Vines: A Complete Investigation of the Vatore Disappearances by journalist Salim Benali. Benali posits that the Vatores are immortal vampires who still live today, and though some scholars find elements of his research intriguing, others dismiss his argument as an elaborate, attention-seeking hoax.

[eriscl]

Really love me

Argenti x gender neutral!reader| wrote on a whim and a will| first post!! |he calls you dove and other cute names

Pancake batter mix wafts through the air, the low hum of the space ship accompanying it, creating a recipe for a calm morning. If you can define morning while being in space.

Argenti's hands skillfully crack the eggs against the bowl, pouring the yolk in and mixing it up. humming a quiet tune to the song you showed him last night, keeping him up and making him listen to your 2 hour angsty playlist but he would do it again. because its you.

"Argenti..?"

a groggy voice mutters from behind him followed by the pitter-patter of feet slapping against the trains tile. you emerge from your comfortable bed due to the absence of your lovely and warm boyfriend.

"good morning my love." he greats you, planting a kiss to your forehead as you come up next to him, "did you sleep well my rose?"

your tired hum and nod gets a chuckle out of him. laying your head against his shoulder you can feel yourself doze off again. his body heat is insane. he's the definition of a walking oven. even better he's a beautiful, elegant, walking oven.

Argenti sets the whisk down. moving his long red locks from your face and turning towards you. your face falls to his chest from the action and his hands fly to your waist, pulling you closer to his chest.

"allow me to carry you back, love. you need your beauty sleep after all." at the sound of your sleepy 'mhm,' he lifts you into his arms bridal style, carrying you to your shared bedroom. setting you down back in bed, he smooths a hand down your forehead, planting another kiss.

"sweet dreams my rose"

hi first post kinda nervous. I'm not really sure what to say but thank you for reading kind reader 😭🙏 I hope for Argenti wanters (I'm one) will be Argenti havers!!

[sketchehm]

another hiii. been meaning to send this earlier but got distracted each time i remembered .-.

thinking of both Sapnap and Dream helping each other heal slowly while also at the same time causing guilt in the other to rise because they aren't blind to how the other isn't doing well. And place a lot of the guilt with themselves. and gods i love them.

also: THE CATS. How do the cats react to Sapnap being back :O cant imagine them not having missed him

(also i wrote sth very short (200 words, might get more) for the dark alternative timeline cause insanities.

Gods, Sapnap would be so horrified at spotting the finger, at seeing the wedding band. I could see the same that happened with Dream, repeating with him. Barely eating or sleeping, both due to guilt and more.

and how would they even get dream back after that. cause chances are Q upped his security if Q knows they tried to get Sap while not upholding their end of the deal. so theres a good chance it takes longer than it would have taken to get sap. but maybe also at some point Q does have enough of it and goes the furthest he went before dumping Dream's body outside. Unbeknownst to him, someone's been spying and spots the body. They anxiously make their way over and look inside only to recognise who it is and trying to get him out. He's still alive. Thank gods he's still alive. But barely. They get him further away, inform the rest to get them as they try to prevent too much blood loss. )

Hi this gets answered first for reasons :)!

So.

It really is a constant. 2 steps forward and one step back with those two. More for Sapnap tbf. Because Dream. Does get better, physically and mentally.

He eats what hes given and having them ration his foods after proving that he can't pace himself. Taste has come back to Dream thankfully, the major depression that Dream was going through has lightened immensely. (Much to the relief of everyone else, especially George)

He willingly allows the Team to drug his drinks and food so he can sleep, he knows it'll relax them and he knows he needs it too (the headache the next morning is well worth having everyone together with him, waking up to Sapnap by his side). Dream has no reason to not give into the the Team's whims on how to take care of him honestly. He enjoys it. Its...nice.

He does wish Sapnap would relish in it too. He's hoping showing Sapnap how much trust and confidence he's giving the Team is evidence that they would take care of Sapnap just as much if he allowed them.

However it really is Sapnap defaulting to listening to Dream for most things. If Dream tells him to eat with him, he'll eat with him. If Dream tells him to let the Team to take care of him he'll allow it (despite the immense guilt and uncomfortable undeserving feelings that still stews within him) . If Dream asks Sapnap if they want to sleep and cuddle for the night, Sapnap's pit in his stomach making him queasy as he watches Dream be drugged (was asked once if he wanted to help and it almost sent him into hyperventilation), but he'll agree anyways. Because Dream asked. He can make it up to Dream. He has to...(and the warmth is nice sometimes. Being selfish is bad so he has to reject it...but if Dream is asking, well he can't deny it..)

Dream tries to communicate more with Sapnap. It is little by little revealed to Sapnap what Q said about him and his immense horror upon realizing that. Q using his own pain and suffering to hurt those he loves. He unreasonably trusted Q and he knows that on a fundamental level but never really wanted to accept it. Because he loves Q. ....Loved...Q....

"You can trust us Sapnap. You know that, right?"

And Sapnap will solemnly nod at Dream. He knows he can. Knows all they're telling him, their sweet words and kind affection. Their over possessive need to keep him so close to cherish, if he would allow them to...That everything is genuine. He /knows/ that. (But can't quite believe it yet)

Dream does recover way faster than Sapnap. Dream's guilt doesn't eat at him like it does Sapnap tbf. Dream also isnt suffering through...Sapnap's anxiety/paranoid thoughts. He has Sapnap back, he knows he can make amends. He can hold Sapnap so close and tell him everyday how much he loves him and never wants him to leave. That no matter what Sapnap does could ever stop Dream from loving him.

"What...what if I /do/ leave again?" (What if I'm bad again?)

Sapnap's voice small and hushed, afraid to learn the truth of certain questions in his head.

"If it makes you truly happy Sapnap. Being away from us. From me. Then you can. And I won't stop loving you even when you're away. Ok?"

Sapnap nods again...clutching the hem of his shirt and trying not to cry.

"T-the guys probably wouldn't let me go anyways..." he'll sniffle. It's a joke though, they both know it.

"I'll sneak you out," Dream will chuckle and pull Sapnap into a hug.

Baby steps.

I want to say the cats are actually a huge factor in bringing Sapnap out of his shell again. They're always close to him, very obviously missing him. Sapnap will feel bad he left them behind, rarely thought of them when he was with Q considering everything else that was happening...but he knows he can trust the cats loving him. He knows animals don't lie about their feelings, at least he doesn't think they do? He knows the cats love and missed him!! Taking care of them is probably the only thing he does on his own without being told. Automatically taking over their care (Spreen was the one who mainly took care of the cats needs). It's soothing, the guys learned this is the best time to talk with Sapnap, when he's focusing on giving the cats food or cleaning out the litter box. Sapnap openly chatting again while doing these little chores :> They're fawning over Sapnap and it's the only time Sapnap will chuckle and say hold on he's busy! hold on he's cleaning litter idiot! No kisses until he washed his hand what the heck!! The cats had become very used to the guys and will rub against them and in Sapnap's strange irrational head will concluded that if the cats are being friendly at this moment, then it's safe. He can't get in trouble with the cats. He can't be bad during this. He can love freely during these moments :)

DARKER TIMELIME NOW LMAO

Dude knowing you wrote a lil snippet has me SO excited to read omg please share insanities :3

I can see Sapnap not being able to sleep or eat not through the same kind of depression Dream went through. Life was dull for Dream. Sapnap...it's terrifying. Sapnap wasnt doing well before the package but as soon as he opened it, his sanity truly is teetering...I wanna say he's really close to some sort of psychotic break. Food looks like flesh, causing him to vomit before he even had a chance to eat and sleep is full of screams and night terrors. He's constantly afraid of anything and everything. Always seeing Q at the corner of his eyes. Always seeing Dream's cut finger in place of other things, always having to do a double take. Closing his eyes he always sees the last moment he had with Dream. Seeing Dream's pained face before he was knocked out and waking back up with the Team and George....

Always hearing Q's words whispering to him when he's alone for too long. Hearing Q's final threat echoing in his head....Sapnap knowing if he ever returns Q will kill Dream, will shove Sapnap's face in the corpse so he knows exactly what hes done. For Sapnap's betrayal against Q, he's going to take Dream from him. Will do unimaginable things to him. And its all Sapnap's fault. Always imagining the other guys saying the same thing Q always said to him. It's Sapnap's fault. All his /fault/.

Sapnap can't trust his sense and doesn't know what's real or not. Screaming anytime the guys want to touch and comfort him, just imagining Q's suffocating hold. Sapnap is very close to hurting himself just to ground himself.....George not knowing how to take care of Sapnap. All of them in horror by what Q had done to their most cherish and precious person.

There's this little scene I do imagine that despite Sapnap's growing....issues, his brain does force itself to find a Safe Place. Rationalizing that the only true safe place being Rich's office actually. They can't get him there. Q can't get him. Can't drag Sapnap back to show him Dream's mutilated corpse. Rich is the all powerful Don. The monsters can't get him if he's in the office with his Don.....

The first time he goes it's the dead of night and he's knocking on the door hoping Rich will tell him to enter....Rich is always in his office, always always always....but the shadows are creeping in. He can hear Q coming for him.

Before he knows it he's in the office and slamming the door closed. It's just as dark in here as it is in the hallway, empty...the office space still feels too open, he'll be seen if the door is opened and Rich isn't here, where is he? He's always supposed to be here!! Maybe Rich stepped out! He does that sometimes!! But what if someone comes when Rich is out!!! And then Sapnap is under the desk before he knows it.. he's safe there. He'll just hide here until Rich comes back...just until Rich comes back.

He wakes up with a blanket on him but still under the desk..it's bright now he can tell....he spots legs under the desk. It's Rich, it's his Don he's back. He's back and no one can get Sapnap now...

Rich will realize Sapnap woke up when he feels tugging on his pants, looking down and seeing Sapnap clinging to him and weeping. What is he going to do with his precious dog....

Dream is...living a true hell. Torture is not great! Really reduced to Q's punching bag :( I can't imagine how they get Dream back besides what you described TwT Dream being dumped at some harbor. Some place he knows the Team controls, knows that Dream will be found.

Q knowing killing Dream would cause a war that he doesn't think he's fully prepared for. But he's oh so graciously returning the bastard to them, isn't he such a good guy! Yea sure, if they were any later in finding Dream he mightve died, but that would be on them for not keeping better security on their own land heh

It truly is more a message. For the Team. For Sapnap.

They caused this. This is their fault. Dream is like this because of them and Q knows they'll never forget it.

Saving Dream wasn't easy. An ambulance Had to be called they couldn't do this on their own, they didn't have the people in the right places to preform the blood transfusion that Dream desperately needs.

Which unfortunately means only Rich can visit Dream. They may have half the police force under their control but he knows the guys are more than wanted criminals, safe only by Rich's protection and ways of circumventing the laws. But going to such a public place will attract too much attention. So he goes, his right hand man on standby.

Everyone knows Rich is a big mob boss, but he's too untouchable. Most Don's are tbh. (Dream was. But look at him now..) He knows no one unsavory will approach him, so Rich will loosen his tie and be in the hall waiting for a doctor to tell him good news. Something he can tell the boys that will ease everyone. He can't take this loss. No more. They've all been through too much too quickly...

And he'll wait there hours and hours...

[ayngels-sunbook]

LS! Ash & Redd while although never officially teaming are attracted to one another (not like that) due to the fact that Ash is scared to be alone again. Whereas Redd is scared for someone else he loves to die. (Ash is traumatized by KSMP / Kaboodlesmp & Redd is traumatized by the Outsiders SMP) Put those two together and you have two (emotionally) codependent players that rely on one another. Ash is scared of the void and pure emptiness, he's scared to be left alone with his thoughts. Redd is scared of cramped areas, the wet moss and moist air of the clearing. The feeling of being left, not being wanted. Having everyone be understood and accepted by a group, except for you. He's scared to left in cramped space. They both don't want to be alone, but the funny this is that the reasons are both alike and not-alike two sides of the same coin. Just so close to where they have the same ridges and rhymes. (Both terrified of being alone due to trauma caused by others & the feeling of being unwanted) So similar to where they have the same motives, motifs. (They both strive for power & feeling of being accomplished- the feeling of being wanted.) Yet also different, they're like a rose and a morning glory. Intertwining within one another, both leeching all of the energy out of the other to come out on top. Just to get trampled by the other. They grow on the same twine, they both harm those who come to close. But they don't hurt one another, atleast not in an unfixable form. One poisons the other punctures. They're both symbols of love, they both punish & pull the others heart out. To be victorious, is to be vicious. To be a God, is to be a Fraud. To be free, is to be manipulated. To be human, is to be a dreamer, and they're all of these things in one. Beings that aren't human, that are hardly words. They bend the world to their whim. Being whoever they want to be. They are themselves, Ashswag and Reddons. People-Entities that can thrive alone. But are better in s pack of sorts. Whether it'd be lovers, enemies, family, or friends.. it's better to have someone to rely on, and that's something they've learned over the experience in the void / glade.

(this is literally just me copying what I wrote at like 2 am)

[fxvcsd]

Little Bit of Lovin’ You

Wc: 936

Synopsis: Where you and the astral express family nearly die after Caelus’ daily dumpster dive.

XTRA: lots n lots n lots nd lotsss of crack! Shit writing bcs i honestly js wrote this on a whim, pt. 2 which is guaranteed will have better writing but will be published in like a few days or something. “Lalala” Caelus, “Okokok” reader. GN! Reader

warnings: emetophobia(ish?), silly dorky goofy nicknames, ooc characters (NOT RLLY), mentions of himeko getting a lil drunkity wunkity

“HE QUITTT, babe! He literally quit being the Trash King! Like, full on smashed his crown to the floor and ran out of the castle, Elsa style!” 

You could barely hold back another groan as Caelus’ stinky body pressed against your own as you made your ways back to the Astral Express. For hours on end, Caelus complained to you about his newfound ‘universal enemy.’ You plugged your nose and held back a gag, the stench of rotten food and other kinds of trash piled up in Caelus’ hair; every crevice and fold in his clothes. 

The minute the two of you stepped foot into the Astral Express, Dan Heng had a clothing pin squeezing his nostrils shut with a fan fluttering the smelly wind out the door. March had a gas mask on, taking pictures of you suffering (to which you’d beat her ass for later on), Himeko backing up with a giggle, and Welt just…being Welt. He covered Pom-Pom’s sensitive nose as the wind Dan Heng blew their way almost made the poor conductor pass out. 

The doors shut with a loud echo. You shoved Caelus off of you and went to the nearest trash can (how ironic!) to barf up the contents you ate earlier that morning; your boyfriend stood by the door like a confused puppy. He tilted his head to the side, jutting his lip out into a pout. He didn’t know what he did wrong. 

As they say, you can’t smell what you carry. 

You take heavy breaths as March cackled, patting your back. The others looked away to respect your privacy, but they couldn’t help but let little giggles slip past their lips. You would let Welt deal with the trash can later… he wouldn’t mind a little cleaning up after his favorite child, after all. 

Probably. 

Caelus tried to walk to your side, but with the help of Dan Heng — who reluctantly stopped waving his fan around and pushed Caelus away with the back end of his polearm, stopped him in his tracks. 

“You stink,” he muttered. Caelus froze, and with a hurt look, his head snapped to you for confirmation. The way you were plugging your nose with your cheeks puffed out, a green tint to your skin told him all he needed to know. Dan Heng nodded sympathetically, patting his shoulder before taking a large step back. 

“Babe…” 

“Nope. Bye.” 

You ran off into the other car, trying to avoid your stinky boyfriend who ran after you. You let out shrieks of horror as you looked over your shoulder, seeing dust lift from the ground as he caught up to you in what seemed like such little time. Caelus had such long legs and amazing stamina — it wasn’t fair! Not at all! 

“Come back, baby! Give your fav boy a kith!” 

“NONONONONO-”

—————

He caught up to you in the end, trapping you between him and the couch. You were so lucky that the smell wore off a bit and wasn’t as potent as before. If it was, you were sure you would’ve died beneath him. You loved Caelus with all your heart, but when he would make the ship go off course and travel back to Jarilo-VI to go dumpster diving, you would rather have Blade stab his shattered sword through your left—

Anyway…

“Baby…” Caelus dragged out a whine, his lips pressed against the crook of your neck. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you were in a daze, scrolling away at random news articles on your phone. You let out a hum, kissing his temple.

“Do I really smell that bad?” 

“PFF-”

The whole train burst out into fits of laughter. March, once again, choked on her spit and ran around the car as she hit anyone she could, repeating what Caelus asked with stutters and heavy wheezes. Dan Heng chuckled before going straight-faced again; Welt pulled a classic old man wheeze, and Pom-Pom giggled; Himeko jolted forward, slapping her hand against the table (if you couldn’t tell, she was quite tipsy). 

“Baby, don’t tell me you’re serious…” You respond, cupping Caelus’ cheeks. You can see the way his eyes glazed over a bit, his cheeks puffed out with pink, slightly chapped lips, pouting. You could never resist that face, for it was the one he gave you when he asked you out for the first time. And again, and again, and again until you finally accepted. 

The human-raccoon nodded, a small whine leaving his lips. Your eyes softened, pulling him closer as you gently rubbed the tip of your nose against his. “You smell horrible, Caelussy. But I still love you.” 

“NOOoOOOo,1 I don’t! I smell-” He paused, grabbing a fistfull of his jacket and forced it to his nose, taking a long whiff. He was fine at first.

Until he almost barfed on you. 

“GET OFF????” You shrieked, pushing him away and running to the opposite end of the room in .2 seconds, hiding behind Welt who protected both you and Pom-Pom from the influx of sludge that was about to surge out of Caelus’ mouth. 

You paused. The room was silent, and so were the stars. You waited…and waited…and waited. 

No gagging. 

No sniffling.

No nothing. 

Caelus only stood there…menacingly. He was laughing. Hands clutching his sides like he was the funniest person in the world — slumped over like the hunchback from that Disney movie, giggles rolling off his tongue like the Mad Hatter. You stepped away from Welt silently, a shadow cast over your eyes.

You dragged a breath: in… and out. 

“I gagged all of you! AHAHAAHA-”

…

Nobody wanted to talk about what happened to Caelus after that. Dan Heng decided to sort it in the files of… ‘The Unspoken.’ 

tags: @maitadori , whoever else wants 2 be tagged !!

[luvistqrzzz]

me personally i think you need to write something sunoo

you're the one i want at the end of the day

01:54 sunoo x f.reader genre: timestamp, f2l, fluff wc: 0.9k warnings: being drunk, profanity, one kiss

summary: when a piggy back ride home leads you to another destination

an: the fact that i had this in my draft for ages and was thinking when to post it😭😭... TYSM for reuquesting this luv🫶🫶 hope you enjoy this <3... i wrote this in a whim one day so excuse me if this isnt that good :/

'Sunoo-ahhhh', You slurred as the said boy dragged you out of Jay’s front door.

Jake, Jay's roommate who was leaning against the door frame, made a disgusted face, 'Fuck, get her out of her. How is she so wasted?'

Turning towards Jake, you raised an accusatory finger at him, 'Yah! I am not… Wasted!'

'Sure you aren't, Y/N', Sunoo whisper screamed. 'Now, let's go.'

After somehow managing to pull a drunk girl out of the house, he sat down on the curb beside you who was swaying slightly before you plopped your head down on Sunoo's shoulder.

The boy stiffened for a fraction of a section, feeling you so close before relaxing again. He was glad that it was 1 o'clock in the morning and the dim street light hid his blushing cheeks. 

He put an arm around you, slightly shaking you, 'Y/Nie, get up, we need to get to the apartment.'

You pulled your head up. 'Nope! I won't. I like it here, with you.' You giggled, snuggling closer to your roommate plus best friend.

Sunoo couldn't help the butterflies filling his stomach, this was so unlike you. Alcohol and its effects. 'We are sitting on a curb', he sighed, making you stand up with him.

You whined a bit before Sunoo pulled up behind him in a piggy back style. 'You have left me no choice, Y/L/N Y/N.'

Thankfully the apartment was just a few blocks from Jay’s place. 

Walking down an empty road in a cool summer night, Sunoo felt a calming silence settle between the two of you.

He turned his head back to find your head on his shoulder, looking up towards the starry night sky. He felt a funny little happiness in him at the sight of your beautiful drunken face staring into the dark abyss. 

'It's so pretty', you mumbled innocently, having sobered up a bit.

Sunoo nodded but you continued, 'I can count 1, 2, 3… 14, 15 and yes, 16!' You exclaimed looking at Sunoo. 'My 16th star, you.'

He chuckled at your antics, his heart doing a little leap, 'Y/N, you aren't in your right mind.'

What were you even implying? Sunoo didn't want his mind to run into false assumptions but the way you looked at his and pressed your cheek against his, he almost wished you felt the same. Almost.

'I am, Kim Sunoo! You are prettier than those stars, you know.'

'Oh really?!' He continued walking.

'Did you also know?' You whispered into his ear, giggling. 'That I like you Kim Sunoo so so much! Oops! That was a secret.' You whimpered, I don't think you like me back, though.'

Sunoo couldn't even control his beating heart and the way his stomach was jumping at each of your words. Were you being real? No no, these must be your drunken words.

But a small voice inside his head spoke, Aren't drunken words sober thoughts…?

You couldn't possibly like him… right?

Well, wrong because the poor red haired boy didn't know how hopelessly in love you were with him, how he was the literal sunshine of your life and how you would give anything to make him feel happy.

Sunoo stopped in his tracks as you whispered, 'I really mean it, Sunoo-ah. I might be a bit drunk but- Ouch!' You yelped as he suddenly dropped his arms causing you to tightly grip on to his shoulders with your feet dangling. Being short definitely had its disadvantages.

You grimaced, placing your feet on the ground. Your head spun a little as you tried to position yourself but you were a lot more sober than the past five minutes, thanks to your sudden words.

The boy before turned around to face you, 'Did you…' He began, however interrupted by you.

'At least give me a warning before dropping me off like that!' You huffed, turning your gaze away from his, shy from your sudden earlier confession.

However, you had to admit that it was long coming. You just needed the push of liquid courage. 

Sunoo moved closer to you, taking your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. You felt your cheeks burn up at the sudden contact.

'Did you…' he continued, 'Mean what you said two minutes back?'

You looked down at your feet, fidgeting, 'Would you hate me if I said I did? Would you sto-'.

No, you couldn't continue because in the next moment you saw Sunoo step closer to you, taking your face in his hands and met eyes with you, they held this intensity in them, saying something. 'No', he breathed out. 'I wouldn't hate you. I could never hate you, Y/N. I- i like you too.'

You almost couldn't help the smile forming as you closed the distance. Sunoo tensed a bit before melting into the kiss and pulling you by the waist.

When he finally broke the kiss, you looked up towards his bright eyes before you both bursted into a fit of giggles.

'Do you think the convenience store will still be open now?' You wondered.

Sunoo frowned, 'Why do you ask?!'

You smiled, taking his hand, before replying, 'I wanna sober up.'

'... And maybe have a late night picnic at the park beside it with my boyfriend!'

permanent taglist - open send an ask to be added - @rikizm @str0l0gy

feedbacks and reblogs are appreciated!

work belongs to @/luvistqrzzz do not copy repost or translate my work