Planning a weekend cruise for your friend's bachelorette has to be one of the best idea you and your group ever had. It's efficient, offers way more entertainment opportunities than a hotel or a resort does, and you can also visit different destination at once! It also means you can all get blackout drunk at any time of the day and don’t have to worry about driving or calling an Uber.
You spend the first day in the ocean, so your only activities are getting settled and exploring each and every single deck of the gigantic cruise thoroughly. The level of luxury you see is unmatched— how did they fit a mall in here? There’s also multiple casinos, restaurants, even clubs, and each one of them offers different genres and theme nights to satisfy everyone’s taste. You had no idea such places could exist, all crammed in one. It’s a bit overwhelming, and also a little disappointing since you won’t be able to enjoy it all in just one weekend, but one thing you know for sure is that you’ll never even get the chance to be bored!
Once people start filtering out for early dinner, you and your friends take the chance to enjoy one of the many beautiful pools. While you’re there, you can’t help but notice a man collecting his stuff. He’s tall, blond, older. Laughter coming from the girls snaps you out of your momentary trance, and you turn around just in time for you to not see that he’s looking back at you.
The first interaction comes on Sunday, last day before everything inevitably comes to an end. Drunk, sleazy guys who tried to hit on your soon-to-be-married friend and the whole group just had no appeal. For some reason, that single look-over at that man had made you feel more than any other you had met during the weekend.
You’re at the same deck you saw him on the first time, after ditching your friends who wanted to go shopping, using some excuse about still being hungover, which was only half-true. Sun catches on a head of blonde hair your body naturally feels drawn to. He’s wearing a light blue polo shirt, buttons undone to reveal a sliver of chest. A small towel is lazily hanging around his neck, catching the droplets falling from his still damp hair, but it’s hard for you to keep your eyes away from only looking at the biceps bulging under his short sleeves.
Long fingers cradle a glass of dark amber liquor, and you’re not sure why you’re feeling this gravitational pull towards him, but your feet are already walking in his direction before you can even think of it. One moment he’s smiling at you and buying you a drink, the next, you’re in his cabin.
“O-Oh, fuck, Erwin— ngh!”
Erwin Smith - that’s his name - is now towering over you, holding one of your legs over his shoulder as the other one lies pinned to the bed between his knees, and his hips are pounding into you with a vigor you couldn’t have imagined he had. Your intentions had been clear from the moment you walked to him wearing that bikini that was basically begging him to be taken off with his teeth.
“Shh, darling…” he coos, voice gentle despite his heavy breathing. “You’re taking me so well, shit, look at you.” Whiskey-laced lips press a kiss to your ankle that’s resting against his collarbone, watching the way your tits bounce with every thrust. Your pretty manicured nails now dig into the pristine sheets, trying to keep yourself grounded, but it’s very hard when the ridges running along Erwin’s thick cock are making you see stars.
A few fruity cocktails and almost an hour of shameless flirting later, he had taken you to his cabin, a small departing gift since your dreamy trip ends in the morning. He also wants to make sure he’s not stealing you from your friends, because he’s not that kind of man— even though you’re so cock-drunk right now all you want is to spend all of your remaining time in bed with him, he would never forgive himself for it.
“Can you take a little more, darling?” He groans huskily, leaning forward so his face is hovering over yours. Your leg comes down with his body, stretching you open even more as he almost has you in a split. The muscles in your thigh tremble in protest, but the new angle allows his cock to reach even deeper than you thought possible, and it’s so good it neutralizes the soreness. “Fuck, fuck, fuck— please, more!”
“Greedy girl…” Erwin chuckles before kissing the corner of your mouth. His free hand reaches down to the point where your bodies are connecting, and he spits on your clit before his fingers start do draw mean, tight circles on the sensitive bud. Your breath catches, and it takes a few moments before your mind catches up on the stimulation on your body, tears welling in your eyes from how good he’s making you feel.
You would be squiggling around like an eel if you weren’t pinned to the mattress, instincts overlapping, thoughts of both chasing and running away from the sensation making you lose any crumb of coherence left inside your little fucked out brain. Salty tears stream down your face, around the shape of your lips, parted in loud wanton moans— you’re lucky it’s an hour of the day where no one is in their cabins, or they might as well have thought a murder was happening.
He sees the way the beads trickle down the line of your jaw, your chin, and his pace doesn’t falter even for a second as his tongue slithers out, licking a stripe up your face, tasting the product of the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you. “Atta girl, you’re doing so good…” he murmurs into your cheek, index and middle finger moving with the pulse of your throbbing clit. Your walls flutter, clenching him, and he senses that you’re close. “Just a little longer f’me, eh? Need you to give me your all and cum all over me.”
There’s something in his voice, or maybe it’s the perfect praise he’s giving you, steady while also losing his mind himself while buried inside you, and it drives you crazy. Your heat spasms once more, his fingers flick your bud just right, and something warm pushes out from inside. Something between surprise and amusement leaves Erwin’s throat, blue eyes going wide as you squirt all over his lower abdomen. “There ya go…” he laughs breathlessly.
Your orgasm ripples through you, babbles of his name and strings of curses are the only thing your tongue can barely articulate. “—mmnhhf, E-Erwin!” You cry out, clawing at his thick forearm like that’s going to stop him, but oh, now it looks like his bruising pace has been nothing but a light jog for him. Pupils blown wide, he looks crazy now that he’s seen just how far he can push your body.
His cock drags against the same spot over and over until every muscle gives out, and he also has to face his depleted stamina, struggling to hold himself back from cumming. Erwin just wanted to make sure he could give you his best performance before finally letting go, but really, he was on the verge of spilling the moment he pushed his tip inside your tight, wet entrance. With a stutter of his hips and a low groan bubbling in his throat, hot ropes of cum shoot out and fill you up, and it’s so much it creates a thin ring around the base of his cock.
Once you both finish to ride your high, he gently lowers your leg back on the mattress, and sits back on his haunches to admire the beautiful work he’s done. You’re even prettier with glossy eyes, kiss-bit lips and flushed skin, staring at him with a blissed out smile. He’s tired, but he has to fulfill his gentleman duties before he can relax. “You did so well, angel.” Erwin praises, caressing your cheek with his thumb. After he’s cleaned you up, he cuddles with you until you’ve gained your strength back, exchanging light conversation.
“So you leave tomorrow morning?” He asks, tying back up the laces of your bikini top, the thread a little worn where his teeth had caught it a couple hours before. “Yeah, then we’re going to spend the week doing some final wedding preparations.” You nod. The question comes out of the blue.
“Do you need a plus one?”
Your eyes go wide as you look up at him from over your shoulder. “Really? I-I mean, sure! That would make me very happy. But how are you—”
“I don’t mind expenses,” he shakes his head with a gentle smile. “Especially if that means that I get to see you again. Not a penny is wasted if it’s spent for you.”
taglist: @braunrot, @ibbybelle, @ac0n1tum, @trilxogyyy, @colossaltitanrealgf, @themoong1rl, @spagheettoo (THIS IS A SPECIAL ONE FOR YOU GIRLS), @unexistancial, @skybluesskin, @nimbrxa
i luv luv luv the art for katsuki on pinterest ໒꒰ྀི⁄ ⁄>⁄ ⁄ <⁄ ⁄꒱ྀི১
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8pm & you …
a sleepy pro hero boyfriend who keeps a perfect schedule & a girlfriend who never follows it. katsuki’s strict schedule cracks the moment you wander into his orbit— and he’s too drowsy, too hungry, too in love to pretend he doesn’t need you right back.
somnophilia if you squint again lol …
timeskip bakugo x fem!reader !!
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you weren’t supposed to still be awake.
katsuki’s told you that— every night, actually. same lecture, same scowl, same rough little hand on your lower back pushing you toward bed like you’re a stubborn cat instead of his girlfriend.
but tonight his routine’s thrown off.
it’s way past eight, his self-imposed bedtime, and he’s still sitting at his desk— broad back lit gold by the cheap desk lamp, laptop open, hero reports pulled up. shirt off, hair damp from his too-quick shower. shoulders tense. breathing slow in that tired, controlled way he gets when he’s one inch from falling asleep but refuses to admit it.
he didn’t even hear you come in, which is odd cause he notices everything.
you linger in the doorway, watching him rub his eyes with the heel of his hand, jaw clenching each time his head droops a little too low. he catches himself just before drifting off, muttering something you can’t hear.
you bite your lip, because something about him like this— exhausted, soft around the edges, still trying to be in charge— does something warm and stupid to your stomach.
you shouldn’t find him this pretty half-asleep, but you do— especially when he’s fighting it, like even sleep needs to earn permission.
you pad over quietly, stopping a few feet behind him.
“katsuki,” you whisper.
he flinches. just barely. then he sighs, annoyed at himself for reacting.
“you’re supposed to be asleep,” he rasps without turning. voice rough, deeper when he’s tired. “told you that an hour ago.”
“and you’re supposed to follow your own rules,” you shoot back, arms crossing.
he finally looks over his shoulder at you— eyes low, heavy, irritated in that way that only means he’s worried. a slow blink, like he’s forcing himself awake to scold you properly.
“just go to bed. m’finishing this.” he mutters.
you come up behind his chair, resting your chin on the top of his head. he groans.
you can feel the heat from his skin, the tension lingering in his shoulders.
“you’re literally falling asleep right here,” you say. “you keep nodding off like an old man watching tv.”
“no i’m not—” he starts, then cuts himself off when his eyelids flutter in real time. he sits up straighter immediately, pretending it didn’t happen.
you laugh. he kicks back lightly at your shin in retaliation. even that feels slower, heavier than usual.
“go to bed,” he repeats, voice dragging now. “i mean it.”
“then come with me.”
his shoulders tense. his fingers slow over the keyboard.
“can’t,” he mutters. “i gotta finish this report. s’late.”
“exactly,” you say. “you’re strict as hell with me. but when i tell you to rest— suddenly it doesn’t matter?”
he grunts, annoyed because you’re right.
you see the thought hit him— the hypocrisy— and the way his jaw twitches in response.
“you don’t listen anyway,” he mutters. “always stayin’ up doin’ random shit. no wonder you’re tired all the time.”
“then teach me to listen,” you say softly.
he goes still, really still.
slowly, he turns in his chair to face you— eyes low, drowsy, dangerous in that familiar, comforting way that makes your stomach flip. his fingers curl against the desk edge, like he’s stopping himself from reaching for you.
“…you’re doing that tone,” he mutters. “the brat one.”
“you like the brat one.”
he tilts his head, studying you through half-lidded eyes. he looks exhausted enough to collapse, but his voice drops anyway.
“don’t play with me when m’this tired.”
“i’m not playin’.”
you brush your fingers over his shoulder— warm skin, tense muscle. he shivers.
his head dips the tiniest bit toward your touch before he catches himself.
“just saying,” you add quietly, “if you really want me on a schedule like yours… you’d have to show me how to settle down.”
his breath stutters and you see it. the shift. the moment his exhaustion mixes with something else— something he usually keeps locked down until after he’s eaten, showered, slept, controlled everything.
but right now? he’s too tired to hide it.
“get over here,” he murmurs, voice fading at the ends like he’s half-asleep already.
you step between his knees and he spreads them for you without thinking, his common manspread.
your heart jumps as you feel his eyes drag up your body— slow, hungry, too tired to pretend otherwise.
“you’d better fix that tone,” he warns, grabbing your wrist, pulling you closer until your knees hit the desk. “keep talkin’ like that and—”
his words cut off when his head tips forward onto your stomach, forehead resting against you.
a tired groan leaves him— muffled, warm, vulnerable.
something about it knocks the breath right out of you.
your hand automatically slides into his hair.
“you okay?” you whisper.
“’m fine,” he mutters, voice deep and slurred with sleep. “just… tired.”
there’s a beat, then another.
then his hand drags slowly up your thigh.
your breath stops.
“you always get like this at night…” you whisper.
“like what?”
“clingy.”
he scoffs into your shirt. “shut up.”
but he doesn’t pull away. if anything, he pulls you closer, arms wrapping around your waist so he can rest against you more comfortably. his cheek presses lightly against your stomach like he’s settling in.
“katsuki…” your voice wavers. “you sure you’re not… y’know…”
he huffs, the sound warm against your skin.
“if i wanted somethin’ from you,” he says low, “you’d already know.”
your stomach flips.
he opens his eyes just enough to look up at you— drowsy, unfocused, hungry in that slowed-down, heavy-lidded way that makes your knees go weak.
and then very slowly— he lets his hands slide lower.
“don’t start anything you can’t finish,” he says, almost a whisper, “’cause i’m tired enough to take whatever you give me.”
you swallow hard, and your face burns.
you weren’t expecting honesty like that— not from him, not when he’s this worn down and soft around the edges. it makes something twist low in your stomach, something warm and reckless and stupidly tender.
“katsuki…” you murmur, barely above a whisper.
“what?” he mutters, head still against your stomach, voice thick with sleep. “spit it out.”
you open your mouth, but he tightens his grip around your waist— not harsh, just grounding. steady. like he’s anchoring himself using you.
“c’mere,” he says again, quieter this time.
you bend down instinctively, your hands bracing on the arms of his chair as your face gets closer to his. he smells like his body wash and the clean cotton of your shared sheets. like warmth. like someone who’s been fighting sleep for an hour.
he tilts his chin up to look at you, eyes half-lidded and flushed at the corners.
you feel his hand slide up the back of your thigh again, slower this time, like he’s memorizing you through fatigue.
“sit with me,” he says, tugging your hip lightly. “jus’— here.”
you let him pull you into his lap, sideways at first, then straddling him when he adjusts his legs automatically to make room for you. he groans softly when your weight settles on him, hands coming up to hold your waist like he didn’t mean to and can’t help it.
your heart jumps into your throat.
“you good?”
“mm,” he hums— a sleepy, warm sound. “you’re comfy.”
you press your palms to his shoulders, brushing a thumb over a faint scar. he shivers under your touch like he’s been holding tension all day and you’re finally giving him permission to let go.
his head tips back against the chair, eyes drinking you in with that heavy, desperate look you only see when he’s too tired to hide anything.
“y’know,” he says quietly, “if you actually listened to me— went t’bed when you were supposed to… i wouldn’t worry so damn much.”
your cheeks heat. “i don’t do it on purpose.”
“yeah you do.” his hands slide slowly up your sides, fingers tracing the hem of your shirt. “but it’s fine. i’ll fix it.”
“fix me?”
“fix your schedule,” he mutters, eyes closing for a second as he leans into your touch. then, lower, “fix ya later.”
the way he says it— slow, suggestive, totally unfiltered— makes your breath hitch.
your thighs tighten around him and immediately, his eyes flutter open.
“don’t do that,” he murmurs.
“do what?” you ask, voice soft but shaky.
“act nervous now,” he whispers, thumb brushing the inside of your knee. “you come in here, teasin’ me, then get shy when i pay attention.”
you swallow, pulse fluttering.
“i..i’m not shy.”
“yeah ya are,” he croons, the tired rasp in his voice making it even softer, “but it’s cute.”
your fingertips drag along his jaw. he leans into it, surprising you— katsuki bakugo, leaning into someone’s touch like he needs it to stay awake.
“you gonna fall asleep on me?” you tease gently.
“not if you keep lookin’ at me like that.” his voice dips, barely audible. “not if you’re sittin’ here.”
his hands settle on your hips— warm, steady, a little possessive.
then his eyelids flutter again.
you watch him fight it, jaw clenching, brows furrowing, like sleeping is the one battle he refuses to lose in front of you.
“bakugo…” you whisper, brushing a stray piece of hair off his forehead. “come to bed.”
“not done,” he mutters stubbornly.
“you’re literally asleep right now.”
“no m’not,” he grumbles, then proves himself wrong when he nuzzles against your chest for a second, breath warm through your shirt.
you freeze as his arms wrap around your waist again— slow, natural, instinctive.
“…katsuki?” you whisper.
“mm.”
“are you— cuddling me?”
“shut up,” he mumbles directly into your skin. “you’re warm.”
your cheeks heat so fast it almost hurts.
he exhales slowly, breath dragging across your collarbone.
“you’re doin’ that nervous breathing again,” he mutters.
“because you— you can’t just—”
“you said you wanted me to teach you,” he interrupts softly, tilting his head just enough to meet your eyes. “this is part of it.”
you blink. “part of what?”
his thumb presses into your hip, “settlin’ down,” he says, voice a little slurred. “lettin’ me hold ya. lettin’ me… take care of you...”
your heart stumbles.
he shifts under you— not grinding, not intentional, just restless. tired. warm. wanting.
his fingers brush under your shirt, barely there.
“kats…”
he looks up at you… slow, heavy, hungry in the softest, sleepiest way.
“if you want me t’keep goin’,” he says, voice low and honest, “you gotta tell me.”
your breath catches, “tell you… what?”
“that you want it,” he murmurs. “want me.”
your stomach flips violently and you nod before you can stop yourself.
“i… do,” you whisper.
his eyes darken just a fraction— exhaustion mixing with something deeper.
“then c’mere,” he whispers, pulling you closer by your waist until your forehead meets his. “and let me help you settle down.”
your pulse trips as his hands slide lower, your breath shakes.
katsuki moves like all the restraint in his body snaps at once— one hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, the other holding your waist steady as he drags your mouth down to his.
the kiss hits hard, not slow, not gentle— hungry and messy.
you gasp into him and he growls— an actual low sound in his chest— before kissing you deeper, his thumb brushing your jaw to tilt your head exactly how he wants it.
“kats—” you try to breathe, but he chases your lips again, catching them in another kiss that steals the rest of your words.
“you shouldn’t’ve come over here, and just went the fuck to sleep like i told you to,” he mutters against your mouth, already kissing you again. “i was bein’ so good.”
you whine softly when his fingers slide into your hair.
he groans— full-bodied, tired, needy.
“fuck— don’t make that noise,” he breathes, forehead pressing to yours. “i’m too damn tired to play nice with you tonight.”
“then don’t,” you whisper.
his inhale stutters, you feel it against your lips and then he’s kissing you again— deeper this time, slower but somehow more desperate, like he’s savoring and devouring you at the same time.
his hands roam up your back, gripping, pulling, guiding, taking over without asking.
he’s tired— you can feel it in the way he leans into you, the heaviness in his breaths— but he’s still katsuki, still sharp, still in control even half-asleep and when he finally breaks the kiss, his mouth drags along your jaw, then to your neck, warm breaths sending chills down your spine.
“get in the bed,” he murmurs, voice low, ruined, like he’s seconds from losing the last of his patience.
your pulse jumps, “but—”
“now,” he says, grabbing your chin so you look right at him.
your legs feel weak as you slide off his lap, his fingertips trailing your waist as you step back.
his eyes follow you— slow, heavy, burning in that desperate way he only gets when he’s exhausted enough to let the truth show.
he watches you intently as you climb into the bed, his gaze heavy lidded and dark with desire. you can see the exhaustion weighing on him, but there's a hungry glint in his eyes that sends shivers down your spine.
"take off your clothes," he commands gruffly, voice rough from lack of sleep and too much shouting.
your fingers tremble slightly as you reach for the hem of your shirt, slowly pulling it up and over your head. his eyes follow the movement hungrily, drinking in every inch of newly exposed skin, you unclasp your bra next, letting all away to reveal your breasts to his heated gaze.
"pants too," he growls when you hesitate. "i wanna see all of you.”
you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your leggings and shimmy them down over your hips, kicking them aside.
he approaches you, crawling onto the mattress and reaching down to grab your hips, going down to kiss on your neck, lifting your leg around his slim waist. you feel the hard erection pressing against your cooch through the fabric of his sweatpants, and he groans feeling your wetness, digging his fingers into your hips hard enough to bruise, “hah, so wet for me.. already?” he murmurs.
“i.. i can’t help it,” you breathe out, arching into his touch as he grinds against you. “not when you touch me like this..”
your hands roam over his broad shoulders and down the sculpted muscles of his back, feeling the way they flex and tense beneath your fingertips. you want to explore every inch of him, to map out the planes of his body with your lips and tongue until he's trembling with need, but right now, all you can focus on is the delicious friction building between your thighs as he rocks against you.
the thin fabric of his sweatpants does little to dull the sensation of his hard length rubbing against your sensitive cooch.
"oh please, kats," you whimper needily, tilting your hips up in a silent plea for more. "i need to feel you inside me."
he groans at your words, one hand coming up to tangle in your hair while the other slides between your bodies to push aside the crotch of his pants. his dick springs free, hot and heavy against your stomach as he positions himself at your entrance
"so damn needy, always wanting more," he murmurs gruffly, nipping at your bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue.
his words are tinged with affection even as they carry a hint of exasperation. you've always been this way— greedy for his touch, hungry for the pleasure only he can give you.
he lines himself up with your entrance, the head of his dick nudging against you.
you whimper needily at the contact, hips lifting off the bed in an attempt to draw him inside.
"so impatient," he chuckles genuinely, one hand coming down to grip your hip tightly enough to bruise. "i haven't even started yet."
with agonizing slowness, he begins to push forward— inch by delicious inch until you're stretched wide around him, your inner walls fluttering and clenching as they struggle to accommodate his girth.
"f..fuck," he groans once he's fully sheathed inside you. "you always feel so— fuck- damn good."
his eyes flutter shut for a moment, savoring the sensation of being buried deep in your tight heat. when he opens them again, they're dark with lust and something softer - an affection that makes your heart stutter in your chest.
he begins to move then, pulling out until just the tip remains before thrusting back in with a low groan. “mm~ k..katsuki!” you moan out, his pace is slow and steady at first, each deep stroke sending sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine.
"you take my dick so fuckin’ well," he praises gruffly, one hand sliding up your side to cup the heavy weight of your breast.
his thumb brushes over your nipple as he speaks, teasing the sensitive peak until it's hard and aching for more. you arch into his touch with a breathy moan, nails digging into his shoulders as you try to pull him closer.
"that's it," he encourages darkly. "let me hear how much ya want this."
he picks up the pace then, hips snapping forward with increasing force as he drives into you again and again. the headboard slams against the wall with each powerful thrust, the obscene sound filling the room along with your needy cries.
"shh," he demands when your moans begin to fade into whimpers. "you sound so pretty, but i have a headache since ya wanna keep me awake."
his words send a thrill of embarrassment and arousal through you, cheeks flushing hotly even as your body responds with eager obedience. you cry out his name, back arching off the bed as he hits that perfect spot inside you.
"mmm— fuck," he groans at the sound, hips stuttering briefly before redoubling their efforts. "you're so close already aren't you? damn brat, i can feel it.”
he leans down then, capturing one nipple between his teeth and biting down just hard enough to make you gasp. his hand slides between your bodies next, fingers finding your clit and rubbing firm circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves.
"c’mon, cum for me," he commands roughly against your skin. "now."
your orgasm crashes over you like a wave at his words, pleasure exploding through every nerve ending until all you can do is scream his name and cling to him desperately. he follows soon after with a guttural groan, spilling himself deep inside you as his hips jerk erratically.
in the aftermath, he collapses against you... heavy and sated and so very tired. you can feel the exhaustion weighing on him as he nuzzles into your neck, breaths slowly evening out as sleep begins to claim him.
"fuckin’ love you, but you need to learn how to listen" he mumbles drowsily before drifting off completely, one arm wrapped possessively around your waist.
“i..i love you too katsuki..” you murmur drowsily, dozing off right with him.
This story is a smut story, I’ll more characters x reader one shots in the future and if you want to see a character please let me know.
You must be 18 years or older to read this...
🔞⚠️NO MINORS ALLOWED⚠️🔞
Summary/inspiration/prompt: you didn’t know you needed someone older until you got him.
Word count: 2.9k
CW: NSFW and adult content, fingering, oral (m&f!receiving), unprotected s*x, filming, drinking, smoking, dirty talk, name calling/degradation,
You sat in the booth with the hair stylist next to you, “I’m telling you, today’s shoot was really good” slurred the director, as he placed a hand on yours while he leaned over the table, “if you and Kenny had just a little bit more chemistry, we’d all be rolling in money” he hiccuped and looked to Kenny and the older man just puffed on his cigarette, “come on, you enjoyed yourself… you can’t deny that” the director continued on as if he was trying to set you and Kenny up on a date, “director Vanché, I think it’s time we finished, the actors are probably tired and you promised to show me your new kitten” smiled the producers, you looked to the young man and offered him a smile as to say ‘thank you’. The two man left and you sighed in relief, the hair stylist next to you giggled and you looked at her, “what?” You asked with a raised brow and she shook her head, “I don’t think you’re gonna like it, but he’s right… if the both of you had a little more of a spark, you’d be very popular… and not just for our company” she raised her drink to her lips and took a sip of her beer, giving everything a minute before continuing on, “it’d be very big paycheque for both of you… and honestly I think you’d both think it’s more then worthwhile, at least considering how much you’d both enjoy yourself” she chuckled along with the other two stylists sitting at the table, while you could only blush.
Of course you enjoyed it, Kenny has a perfect cock and he knows how to use it perfectly, he’s had many years to become an expert at sex and he’s been with more women then you could ever imagine, while you have really only ever relayed on your looks and body, which is exactly why you got into porn because you didn’t need to be good at pleasing others you just needed to look good while taking it.
You just couldn’t possibly imagine Kenny wanting to be with you outside of work, because why would he waste his time on a little girl who is as useless in bed as a bag of cold sand. You looked down at your drink, before quickly drinking down all of it in one go, your face beginning to instantly heat up as the alcohol began to effect you, “wow… that was quick, what ya so desperate to get drunk for?” Asked the man that had been silently sitting and puffing on his cigarette this entire time, you looked up at him, “can you believe this bullshit? They want us to fuck again… haha! Yeah right, like you’d want to do that” you laugh and throw your head back against the back of the chair, you heard chairs shuffling and moving, when you looked up again you noticed everyone but Kenny had left, “and what if I do, then what? Ya gonna deny me? Not let me have ya?” He asked as he put out his cigarette and stood, “or will ya only open those sweet legs, if yer gettin’ paid? Cause I can arrange that” he chuckled and leaned back in his chair, you stiffen for a moment, “you want to again?” You looked off to the side and he laughed sitting back in the chair before crossing one leg over the other, Kenny eyed you down and waited for more from you, however you just stayed silent and watched one of the wall intensely. “Alright come on… get up, we’re leavin’” he hummed and stood before leaning over the table and grabbing your arm pulling out of the booth with him.
You stayed silent as Kenny led you to some very flashy and modern looking love hotel, you stood on the other side of the lobby watching as Kenny chatted away with the receptionist who happened to be a very beautiful woman who was probably in her mid forties, she hand him the key and a paper bag before looking to you and giving you a wink, you smiled shyly and she chuckled, Kenny ushered for you to follow him down the dimly lit hallway, before you both reached a door with the number 850.
You sat on the bed only in your underwear, Kenny had discarded your clothing somewhere in the room, the man stood before you as he removed his shirt, he grabbed your face as he unbuckled his belt, “ya look so pretty, uh bet people love havin’ such a cute girl under ‘em” he chuckled and tucked some hair behind your ear, however you only blushed and looked away, “no no… don’t look away… look at me… focus on me… only me, doll” Kenny leant down to you and once getting your attention he stood again before opening his pants and pulling out his member.
You watched intensely as Kenny pumped his semi, you noticed he dropped his member and looked at you expectingly, “yer ain’t gettin’ fucked, if ya ain’t workin’ for it, sweetie” he smirked and you looked down at his still slightly soft member.
You move forward on your hands and knees, moving a hand up Kenny’s leg before gripping his shaft, you pumped him slowly as you looked up at him, Kenny chuckled at your doe eyed expression and gently rested a rough hand on your cheek, “suck me, doll” he spoke in a rasped whisper, you felt your cunt clench before you giggled, you bit your lip and shook your head. Kenny gave you a raised eyebrow however before the man could speak, you leaned in and began kissing over his hips, at first you gave his hip soft feather like kisses that made goosebumps form on Kenny’s arms and legs, before you moved onto more sloppy kisses and licking over his hips and lower abdomen, this caused Kenny to pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail and pull your head back and up towards him. The man leant down getting right in your face, “start fuckin’ suckin’ bitch” he grunted out before yanking you back down to his member, Kenny straightened up and looked down his nose at you, you pressed a soft peck to his tip before slowly sliding him into your mouth.
Kenny’s pre-cum tasted funny, it was salty and bitter but it somehow made your cunt tingle and your mouth water, suckled on his tip, licking over his slit and wrapping your tongue around him with shallow bobs of your head, honestly you were more then ready to shove the man onto the bed before climbing him and going to town on his one-eye monster, however he told you to suck him, so that’s exactly what you were going to do.
Kenny groaned and brushed his fingers through your hair, you moaned and took him deeper, gagging and choking in the process, “woah woah, darlin’ yer tryin’ to kill yerself?” He questioned with a grin, looking up at the man had your cunt quivering, you ignore all your throats protecting and took him as deep as he’d allow, until nothing was left, your lips met the scruffy bush of pubs as your nails dug into his thighs, Kenny’s lips were turned up into a smirk and his eyes were narrowed while he watched you, the man took a sharp breath in and let out a hiss before pulling you off him, “that’s enough, yer pretty good at that” he chuckled before grabbing your hips and forcing your hip to the edge on the bed before placing a pillow under them, Kenny grabbed under your knees and forced your thighs apart and then pushed your knees right up to your chest, you groaned at the strain on your hips, however Kenny only chuckled and rubbed his thick tip between your quivering folds, “oh fuck… Kenny please!” You whined as the underside of his shaft rubbed over your clit, however the man only smirked and pulled back.
Whining and complaining you reached a hand down and began rubbing yourself before slipping a finger in, you moaned and moved the finger quickly in a desperate attempt to get off, “ya know, I’m likin’ the look of this… keep playin with that pussy baby girl” the man watched your finger disappear deeper and deeper inside you, though no matter how much you push and press you weren’t able to put enough pressure on your g-spot, “I- I can’t… not enough” you cried and felt Kenny release one of your leg.
Without warning the man push two of his fingers into you, not giving you a chance to pull out your own finger before his hand cupping yours, you gasped loudly at the fullness before the man began to move yours and his fingers in and out guiding them into your spot, you moaned and grabbed his wrist. “I can’t… it’s- it’s too much… dear god!” You cried out and involuntarily rocked your hips into his slow motion of both your fingers, “too much?” Kenny questioned with a chuckle before he leant down and wrapped his lips around you clit, the man switched between suckling and blowing raspberries on your sensitive bud, you cried and moaned grabbing his head pulling him impossibly close to you while your free leg squeezed around his shoulder, you pushed yourself into him as you quickly reached your high, you felt your cunt squeeze tightly around both yours and Kenny’s fingers.
Kenny felt his member throb and pre-cum leak from him, he was certain that if everything kept up like this he’d cum, he honestly began to feel like a young teenager again, desperate and unable to control himself, he felt eager and ready for you, your moans and pleas only encouraging him, Kenny pulled back while keeping his tongue on you, he laid his hot muscle flat on your clit, slowly beginning to massage it while watching you intensely as your body quivered and your face contorted, you fell over the edge as you watched him watching you, “oh dear god…! Fuck me kenny! Please Kenny… please” you cried loudly moaned between every word only getting louder the longer Kenny continued to lick you cunt, even after removing his and your fingers from you, his tongue continued to work you to a other orgasm, pulling away and grabbing your leg that was resting on his shoulder before moving it up to press it against your chest, after a few more slow licks over your cunt Kenny leaned up and quickly slipped his member into you.
It was silent as his hips slowly moved back and forth as his lips captured yours, you moaned and whined against his lips but the sound was just swallowed up, you wondered for moments if this was what your coworkers meant by good chemistry but that thought was quickly forgotten when Kenny pressed into your spot.
You completely lost yourself, your eyes watered and lips quivered as your toes curled and back arced, you moaned nonsense as the man’s hips pressed into yours, it was a stark contrast to your interaction earlier in the day.
Kenny was being sweet, slow and oh so gentle, it felt like heaven, it was so out of the ordinary, you had been railed plenty of times, almost with every partner you’ve had, however this was different in so many ways, “yer so warm baby” Kenny moaned as he pulled back and looked down at where your hips meant, “yer swallowin me up” the man groaned and let go of your legs, moving his hands to your waist holding you tightly in place, he took a deep breath in and closed his eyes, tilting his head back and contacting all his muscles.
Kenny’s muscles on arms and legs flexed and his chest expanded with his deep breathes, while his stomach tightened making his abdomen tensed up and his waist appeared smaller. The man looked like heaven itself, like a Greek statue, you could feel the throbbing of his cock and could tell why the man was calming himself down.
Kenny wasn’t ready to cum, but you sure as hell was ready for him, regaining all your senses you squeeze around him, trying to encourage him to continue, however this caused the man to slowly begin to pull out, in your desperation you wrapped your legs tightly around his hips, while also leaning up and grabbing roughly at his waist, your nails dug and stretched at his skin causing him to hisses sharply and glare down his nose at you. “Kenny… please… back in…” you moaned your legs tightening more and your fingers finally getting a good grip on him, as you push him back into you and locking him in place with your legs, “back in… nice and deep” you moaned as one of your hands move up Kenny’s arm while the other rest on the mattress before helping you raise up from the bed. You wrap your arms around Kenny neck and you lick his earlobe “Kenny… you have to fuck me… you have to fill me” you whisper dirtily and play with the hair on the back of Kenny’s neck, the man raised a leg on to the bed and began to slowly bounce you on his member.
Your hands grip onto his shoulders tightly as he moved his body to sit back on the bed, “yer being real confident baby…” he chuckled breathlessly while he laid flat on his back, he then guided your hips into as soft rock, “ya better get workin for this cum” he looked down at you swallowing him up, you moaned beginning to grind and roll your hips, Kenny’s eyes moved up your body, he seemed to be mesmerised by the way it moved, “ya got some nice tits on ya” he groaned as he moved his hand up your waist and to your chest squeezing and massaging the flesh.
You were certain you’d cum soon, despite your best efforts Kenny still looked calm, relaxed and nowhere near ready to cum, though the occasional twitch or throb made you second guess that, you mustered all the courage you had, “raise those knees for me, would ya?…” You slightly mimic Kenny’s accent still unsure, he look up for your breasts and gave a crooked smile, “now why’d I do that?” He grunted eyes shifting back down to your cunt before quickly back up to your face, “how else ya gonna see my pussy swallow up yer cum” you fully committed to the accent and moved yourself into a squatting position.
With a laugh Kenny lifted his knees and you leaned back resting your hands on them, you opened your legs and began grinding up and down on his cock, giving him a full view of everything. Kenny reach down the side on the bed and grab his phone, resting his other hand behind his head he tapped away on his phone before hitting record, “let’s show the boss how well we’re gettin along” he chuckled looking at you through the phone, you moaned surprisingly enjoying being recorded despite it normally feeling like work, you whined as you quickened your pace, “fuck Kenny… I’m gonna cum” you throw your head back and whined, reaching a hand down you began to fondle Kenny’s sack determined to get him to cum, the man hissed reaching up and grabbing one of your breasts, before giving it a good slap keeping the camera focused on you, “fuckin slut!” He grunted and grabbed you breast, squeezing it roughly this time, “dirty cum hungry slut!” His accent coming through heavier as his words slurred together. Kenny let out a loud groan then a harsh grunt before rutting his hips up, this caused you to lose your balance and almost fall forward, but it hardly mattered as you felt it, Kenny had finally given in, it was hot and felt amazing, you were certain you could get used to this feelings.
You quickly pulled Kenny out of you and turned over, you felt Kenny grab your ass, massaging the flesh before spreading your lips, getting a good view of your abused hole, you then decide to push and force a large amount of Kenny’s cum out of you, the man groaned and your felt his fingers start playing with your folds smearing his cum all over your cunt and then fingering it back in you, “baby, ya think we’re gettin along well enough for ‘em” he asked and you moaned as he scissored his fingers in and out of you, before pulling them out completely and showing the camera just how dirty they were.
“Ya sure…? Uh don’t have to send it, just keep it between us sweetie” Kenny rested a hand on your stomach while the other tap away on his phone, “well does it look good? I only want to send it if it looks good” you moved your foot up and out of the bath water, playing with the tap as it dipped water, Kenny laughed and moved his hand up your body to your throat tilting your head back against his shoulder, “yer fuckin kiddin me, right?!” He laughed more before kissing your cheek and leaning into your ear, “ya looked fuckin perfect” he whispered and moved your phone into your view, before hitting play on the video.
Hours later you sat in your living room watching all the replies to the video, Kenny had opted to sending the video file to the work group chat under the name ‘team building exercise’, and the replies have been coming in ever since, it was safe to say your boss was pleased with the outcome and had already begun planning the next few projects.
18+ sanemi fucking you so good after a mission . . . ❤︎ ⋮ requested.
one thing about your beloved husband, shinazugawa sanemi, is that he’s man full of energy. it’s well known among all the demon slayers that this man is diligent despite how abrasive and rash he could be, slaying demons during nightfall and returning during daybreak.
sanemi always seems to be chasing time when he’s on duty, his slices coming in fast and urgent as he tries to keep the battle short. he says it’s to save stamina, and it always left the demon slayers perplexed as they tried to figure out why. but the reason is obvious when he’s back at his estate with the bedroom door locked, leaving the servants feeling cloddish as they avoided the area to respect his privacy.
however, privacy only goes so far when your cries pierced through the thin walls, vulgar noises audible to those loitering around the estate. “mmmnghh—so deep—aah feels s’ good, ‘nemi!” your whines only got louder with every smack of his pelvis against the curve of your ass, his fingers tangled in your hair as he tugged your head back. “fuck, i needed this—always takin’ me so well.” sanemi rasped, breaths heavy as he pounded into you. “been waiting for me, haven’t you? squeezin’ me like that.. pussy’s so clingy. huh?”
sanemi’s grip on your hips tightened, slamming you back onto his length with a grunt. “missed me? pussy’s cryin’ so loud f’me.” he drawled. “swear you’re tryin’ to get me killed out there, got me thinking about you even when you’re not around.” his thrusts grew rougher, tip aggressively battering your cervix, body lurching forward from the force.
“nnghh—haah—missed you so much, ‘nemi! missed you—aaah!” you couldn’t hold on any longer, feeling the knot inside your stomach start to unravel as your body trembled beneath him, gummy walls convulsing around this throbbing length. “missed me that bad? couldn’t wait for me to fill you up?” he asked, pulling you up against his chest, fucking into you as broken ‘i missed you’s’ tumbled past your lips. his arms wrapped around your body securely, holding you close as you made a mess all over him. “ha, tight little cunt is about to break me in half—shit.” he muttered into your shoulders as he buried himself deep inside you, hot ropes of cum painting your walls white.
he groans low, hips stuttering as he rides out his release while your legs are trembling, moans fading into soft whimpers. for a second, it looked like sanemi was about to let you go, but instead his hands pressed firmly behind your neck, pushing you back down into the sheets. “not done yet. you still can take more, can’t you?” he asked, gripping your waist and flipping you onto your back effortlessly. he’s settling between your thighs now, hovering over you as sweat dripped from his temples onto your flushed skin. “need to see your face this time—want to see you fall apart under me.”
once was never enough for sanemi. and that explained why he conserves his stamina on missions — so he could spend it all on you.
you knew better than to provoke your beloved boy bestfriend, sanemi shinazugawa. both of you were easy to anger – often rage baiting each other into stupid bets and shows of strength.
according to some ancient legend, no nut november just happened to be the ultimate test.
through usual rambles and bullying, you'd offered up the unfortunate information that you hadn't heard of such a challenge.
"quit lying.." he sneered, silence falling over the two of you.
"swear, this time i'm not," you insisted, not even looking up from your phone.
"i bet you can't last anyway."
"so the whole point is i can't cum for a whole month and if i do, there's a possibility some freaked out curse takes over my body?"
he nodded, hand engulfed in the bag of hot chips he'd stolen from you earlier.
"you would know the most about some loser shit like this, huh?"
sanemi rolled his eyes as a smirk crept onto his face. propping himself up on his elbows, he chucked a chip at your head.
"just means your dumbass should last then, right?"
"is that a bet, 'nemi?"
"is that a bet, nemiiii?" he mocked, before tossing his body weight on you and resting his legs on your lap.
you groaned as the air left your chest from the impact. little did you know this wouldn't be the last time.
the two of you had long finished thanksgiving duties, packing food into boxes and tupperware, washing dishes – the whole nine yards.
it's been 27 days, no toys, or fingers, or him.
until now.
the air felt heavier – thick and kinda humid, as if it were being sucked out of your lungs. you chalked it up to the intensity of being fucked. the dim hallway light flickered – once, then twice – like it was watching you.
just the wind?
"nemi!!! fuck - ah! wait, o-oh my goooddd!-," your moans vibrated against your sleeve as you muffled yourself with one hand.
the other hand was deep in his hair, not realizing just how rough you were pulling. "what the fuck? 's all you got?" he grunted, thumbs bruising your waist while he held you all the way down on his leaking tip.
"hah-, w-what's the matter? stupid pussy can't even – oh nghh – stop l-leaking?" a low rasp left him before his thumb met your puffy folds.
"oh my g-godd-" breath hitching, your hips bounced instinctively, chasing the high of when his pulsing tip first entered.
"ca-can't believe you thought this was enough," he grumbled, staring at the rubbery pink bullet further up on the bed.
and then his eyes met yours.
"here i'll show you." his balls slapped your clit as he leaned over to grab the toy. your pussy made an embarrassing squelching noise as you tried to take more of him.
aaaaaand–plop
a jumble of noises left you as he bottomed out against your cervix, pulsing against the puckered spot.
"all that over me?" he laughed. "and i haven't even used this fuckin' toy."
"p-please! please! 'won't make it" you cried, practically feeling his milky precum coating your walls.
"then cum, damn it. but you're not done.." a faint buzzzzzzzz jolted you as he pressed the toy where the two of you were connected.
"mnnnngh-!! can't hold it anymore, nemi!"
your eyes blurred as they rolled back, tongue lolling as you focused on reaching your high. cockdrunk can't even begin to describe this.
"n-no- oh don't you fuckin' dare." he groaned, one hand now locked on the couches forearm, white-knuckled as the other continued holding you steady. he'd stopped now in some desperate attempt to keep you on the edge.
but it was too late.
you'd finished first and needed to keep going. your nervous system was shot; it didn't take much to notice. quivering, you couldn't put your finger on why you just couldn't stop.
your nails dug into his shoulders, eliciting a sharp hiss from your best friend.
sanemi's name caught in your throat, half-moan, half-gasp. the air stung when you breathed. after blinking again, his outline burned bright against the dark - veins glowing like static under his skin. you could feel everything: his pulse, the rustle of curtains, the way the house itself seemed to groan.
something was deeply wrong.
"shit.." he sighed against your neck, grinding slowly as he tossed the toy aside to pull your wrist away from his skin. "if you're gonna mark me up, at least try a little harder."
you whimpered, legs kicking in frustration at the now achingly slow pace.
the warmth of his lips left your collarbone as he pushed back to look at you. "quit all the whining, yeah?" he shot, his eyes searching yours for the reason your attitude changed.
your teeth sunk into his forearm, hard enough to leave marks, but to you, the bite didn't seem that hard. "what the fuck is wrong with you!" he spat, grabbing your face to look at him. tears pricked your eyes, and your thighs locked instinctively around his waist, clenching him desperately.
"d-don't - hah - do that.." he grunted, pushing himself deeper anyway. "pupils blown and shit.. fuckin' slut." he shook his head.
"nemi! hnnn.. think 'smthings off.."
"no shit." he chuckled, pulling your hips down in sync with you.
you tried, god, you tried, to keep your composure until he found that deep spongy spot – the one that he always does when you arch just right.
your moans turned something closer to sobs – barely sounding human and even shocking yourself. sanemi gasped, trying to pull back, but your body held him there. your nails were now carving his back with every move, and you tightened in an attempt to take every drop.
"the fuck–," he grunted as you released the grip on his back. just from the way he looked at you – you could tell that his stomach had twisted.
"think 'm cursed.." you choked out, a wicked grin coming over your face.
his eyebrows furrowed, and his grip now held your throat firmly, veins pulsing bright beneath your skin. with one final thrust, hot, sticky, cum flooded your womb, a creamy ring of both your juices painting his cock.
big men who fuck you in doggy, mean hands snaking below to grab at the soft chub of your tummy as he groans, “need my baby in here. now. you’re gonna carry our kids in this womb of yours no matter what.”
he has you crying, thighs giving in and shivering in warning as his unforgiving thrusts pummel at the spongy donut of your cervix. it sends a sharp spike through the entirety of your body, from the tip of your hairs to the bottom of your manicured nails, each and every sloppy thrust has your knees slipping across the silk sheets, grappling hands forming creases in the soft comforter.
“too—much!”
“it’s not.” he grunts, pressing down hard on your back to lay you on your belly. he’s quick to shove your fat plushie under your womb to lift your lower half after your failure to comply with his morbid positions. “since you can’t keep yourself up. weak brat.”
cum spills from around the swelling ring if your pussy, drooling into your thighs and messing the sheets as his relentless thrusts grow more precise. each drag of his cock pulls a guttural moan from you, your once whiny and breathy whimpers now turned to loud and unhinged screams as you let out incoherent sobs of his name.
“nnn—no, no, ‘s too much, too— much cum!”
“it’s never too much. you want my babies or not, huh? stop being a brat.”
you feel his chest press up against your back, hot, sweaty abs melting into your concave of your back and holding you down. his hands take ahold of your limp wrists, pressing them into the sheets, chuckling when he realizes your once grappling fingers now weak and sprawled against the mattress.
“squirming too damn much.” he grunts, letting out a punishing thrust that feels almost painful—if not for your hazy, fucked our state. “stay still for it. stupid girl.”
you nod, whining and hiccuping as his thrusts slow, deep, and sloppy, each pummel making sticky strands of cum to stick to his lower abdomen. the sudden softness makes you quiver, eyes rolling back as you sob out. “you like this? yeah? like bein’ held as you take me?”
“hnn, i—i do!” you cry, turning your head as much as your tired state will allow. “kiss, kiss!”
“yeah, you want a kiss?” he whispers, lips hovering above yours with that stupid grin on his face. “ask nice, baby.”
“please, wan’ k—kiss.” you slur. he chuckles before shoving his lips into yours, tongues intertwining as drool lingers down your chin. it’s messy and un calculated, in contrast to his thrusts, each drag with an intention to breed full. you’re whining into his mouth, feeling yourself losing at your own game with his tongue never faltering, and licking at every possible corner and crevice of your mouth.
“s’ fuckin’ this sweet. mouth and pussy.” he mumbles. he grins in adoration at your face, eyes shut tight with tears adorning your pretty, apple cheeks. lips swollen, as he admires the blooming bite marks and forming bruises decorating your neck and chest, thanks to the assault by his mouth.
“fuck, i love you.” he grumbles, eyes rolling back as he feels himself grow close. his thighs twitch against yours, the smallest whines audible as he quickens his pace. “love you, i love you!” you whine “g’na cum! please!”
“damn, so fuckin’ worn out ‘nd still screamin’..” he teases, groaning as he fucks his thick spent into you, the mess making him hiss. his ears ring with your incessant screams and sobs, peppering your face with sloppy, wet kisses to sooth. "took it well.." he pulls away reluctantly, not missing the way you hic in response to the emptiness. "rest." he tugs the crotch of your panty in place, patting at the soddened fabric softly. "keep it inside, or we'll have to do it again. right?"
you whine in response, already pulling his body onto yours, "hnnn.. i love you.." you cry, whining when he squirms, "don't cling, brat. i need to clean us up."
𑣲 characters toji fushiguro, sukuna ryomen, shiu kong, tsukishima kei, kentaro kyotani, sae itoshi, rin itoshi, michael kaiser, sanemi shinazugawa + ur favvvvorites !
you knew better than to provoke your beloved boy bestfriend, sanemi shinazugawa. both of you were easy to anger – often rage baiting each other into stupid bets and shows of strength.
according to some ancient legend, no nut november just happened to be the ultimate test.
through usual rambles and bullying, you'd offered up the unfortunate information that you hadn't heard of such a challenge.
"quit lying.." he sneered, silence falling over the two of you.
"swear, this time i'm not," you insisted, not even looking up from your phone.
"i bet you can't last anyway."
"so the whole point is i can't cum for a whole month and if i do, there's a possibility some freaked out curse takes over my body?"
he nodded, hand engulfed in the bag of hot chips he'd stolen from you earlier.
"you would know the most about some loser shit like this, huh?"
sanemi rolled his eyes as a smirk crept onto his face. propping himself up on his elbows, he chucked a chip at your head.
"just means your dumbass should last then, right?"
"is that a bet, 'nemi?"
"is that a bet, nemiiii?" he mocked, before tossing his body weight on you and resting his legs on your lap.
you groaned as the air left your chest from the impact. little did you know this wouldn't be the last time.
the two of you had long finished thanksgiving duties, packing food into boxes and tupperware, washing dishes – the whole nine yards.
it's been 27 days, no toys, or fingers, or him.
until now.
the air felt heavier – thick and kinda humid, as if it were being sucked out of your lungs. you chalked it up to the intensity of being fucked. the dim hallway light flickered – once, then twice – like it was watching you.
just the wind?
"nemi!!! fuck - ah! wait, o-oh my goooddd!-," your moans vibrated against your sleeve as you muffled yourself with one hand.
the other hand was deep in his hair, not realizing just how rough you were pulling. "what the fuck? 's all you got?" he grunted, thumbs bruising your waist while he held you all the way down on his leaking tip.
"hah-, w-what's the matter? stupid pussy can't even – oh nghh – stop l-leaking?" a low rasp left him before his thumb met your puffy folds.
"oh my g-godd-" breath hitching, your hips bounced instinctively, chasing the high of when his pulsing tip first entered.
"ca-can't believe you thought this was enough," he grumbled, staring at the rubbery pink bullet further up on the bed.
and then his eyes met yours.
"here i'll show you." his balls slapped your clit as he leaned over to grab the toy. your pussy made an embarrassing squelching noise as you tried to take more of him.
aaaaaand–plop
a jumble of noises left you as he bottomed out against your cervix, pulsing against the puckered spot.
"all that over me?" he laughed. "and i haven't even used this fuckin' toy."
"p-please! please! 'won't make it" you cried, practically feeling his milky precum coating your walls.
"then cum, damn it. but you're not done.." a faint buzzzzzzzz jolted you as he pressed the toy where the two of you were connected.
"mnnnngh-!! can't hold it anymore, nemi!"
your eyes blurred as they rolled back, tongue lolling as you focused on reaching your high. cockdrunk can't even begin to describe this.
"n-no- oh don't you fuckin' dare." he groaned, one hand now locked on the couches forearm, white-knuckled as the other continued holding you steady. he'd stopped now in some desperate attempt to keep you on the edge.
but it was too late.
you'd finished first and needed to keep going. your nervous system was shot; it didn't take much to notice. quivering, you couldn't put your finger on why you just couldn't stop.
your nails dug into his shoulders, eliciting a sharp hiss from your best friend.
sanemi's name caught in your throat, half-moan, half-gasp. the air stung when you breathed. after blinking again, his outline burned bright against the dark - veins glowing like static under his skin. you could feel everything: his pulse, the rustle of curtains, the way the house itself seemed to groan.
something was deeply wrong.
"shit.." he sighed against your neck, grinding slowly as he tossed the toy aside to pull your wrist away from his skin. "if you're gonna mark me up, at least try a little harder."
you whimpered, legs kicking in frustration at the now achingly slow pace.
the warmth of his lips left your collarbone as he pushed back to look at you. "quit all the whining, yeah?" he shot, his eyes searching yours for the reason your attitude changed.
your teeth sunk into his forearm, hard enough to leave marks, but to you, the bite didn't seem that hard. "what the fuck is wrong with you!" he spat, grabbing your face to look at him. tears pricked your eyes, and your thighs locked instinctively around his waist, clenching him desperately.
"d-don't - hah - do that.." he grunted, pushing himself deeper anyway. "pupils blown and shit.. fuckin' slut." he shook his head.
"nemi! hnnn.. think 'smthings off.."
"no shit." he chuckled, pulling your hips down in sync with you.
you tried, god, you tried, to keep your composure until he found that deep spongy spot – the one that he always does when you arch just right.
your moans turned something closer to sobs – barely sounding human and even shocking yourself. sanemi gasped, trying to pull back, but your body held him there. your nails were now carving his back with every move, and you tightened in an attempt to take every drop.
"the fuck–," he grunted as you released the grip on his back. just from the way he looked at you – you could tell that his stomach had twisted.
"think 'm cursed.." you choked out, a wicked grin coming over your face.
his eyebrows furrowed, and his grip now held your throat firmly, veins pulsing bright beneath your skin. with one final thrust, hot, sticky, cum flooded your womb, a creamy ring of both your juices painting his cock.
Well, earlier than you typically do. Not that Astarion has been paying you much attention. Hardly any, really. You’re just easy to miss.
Notice. You’re easy to notice. Because you’re so obvious.
Obviously annoying, obviously infuriating, obviously determined, and obviously infatuated with him. True, that had been his goal, but hells, you could blush a little less at his come-ons. Even if it does look cute on you.
Not that he thinks you’re cute. Not really.
The others are packing up their gear and turning in for the night. Astarion will take first watch like he typically does, have a quick trance, and get up in the early morning hours for a hunt. Easy. Routine.
So what if he’s falling into a routine with these people. It makes things simpler.
He should check on you. Just to make sure you’re not ill. For his health more than yours. These days, a headache could mean a rapid onset of calamari face. He’s doing everyone a favor, honestly.
When he approaches your tent, his steps slow to a stop as his ears pick up noise from inside your tent. You aren’t asleep.
And by the sound of it – and it’s a sound Astarion knows well – you aren’t alone.
He huffs an irritated breath through his nose. Gods damn it. He really thought he had you in the bag. There’s a shard of something sharp lodged beneath his rib. Annoyance, probably. Disappointment that he’s back to square one. Bitterness that he lost another competition, even when he’s doing what he does best.
Astarion turns to walk away. Takes three steps. Stops. Turns his head back toward the sound.
Who is it?
Who are you with?
He has his suspicions, but might as well take a quick peek to verify. His steps as he approaches are catlike. Not that you’d notice anyway, preoccupied as you are. He won’t look much. Only enough to see who stole his prize.
His mark. Who stole his mark.
Astarion pauses at the far side of your closed tent flap and finds a gap in the cloth. He leans in, eyes keen in the dark, and his mouth goes dry when he sees your hips grinding against someone, the length of your body pressed tight to theirs while you move over them. A blanket covers you both, but it doesn’t hide the passion of your movement.
He jerks his head away, a ball of tension aching in his gut. Ridiculous. He should go kill something. He walks toward the woods.
And stops with a sigh.
Astarion hates himself for it, this burning curiosity to know exactly who you’re riding so enthusiastically. Steeling himself, he creeps back and peeks once more through the split in the fabric.
You’re sitting up, now, showing him the long line of your spine in the center of your bare back as your hips continue to work. Every puff of breath through your lips is desperate, occasionally lilting up in a breathless moan.
Astarion worries his lip between his teeth. The muscles beneath your skin ripple, your blood thrumming so close and smelling so much of you, sweetened with the scent of arousal. If you’d just lean a little one way or the other, he could see who’s working you so… so…
There’s a flash of heat in his core followed by a sparking current of electricity, setting everything alight. He’d been doing his best to ignore the steady swell of his cock, but ignoring it is no longer an option as he goes hard as stone, the length of him straining toward his hip bone. Subconsciously, he cants his hips into the empty air and finds absolutely no relief. He has to swallow back a soft moan of his own.
The rolling globes of your arse are shaped perfectly beneath your thin wool blanket. Sharp, rocking thrusts against your playmate, against whichever lucky wretch currently feels the sticky heat of you while he watches.
Astarion lets his hand drift to the front of his breeches and sucks his breath in through his teeth when his palm grazes firmly over the covered head of his cock.
You run a hand up your side and feel your own chest, maintaining your rhythm as you whimper.
Astarion’s fingers move to loosen his laces, lips parted as he begins to softly pant.
Your hand moves back down and you’re… yes, you’re putting your fingers between your legs, and you throw your head back with a gasp.
His fingers dip below his waistband and he curls in on himself with a huff as he takes himself in hand and begins to pump. Once, twice… ah, gods, that’s nice.
Though being under you would be even nicer.
Lucky sod. Who is it?
The blanket slips down over the curve of your arse, falling to one side and his breath catches as he realizes he’s about to get his answer.
Fabric falls aside and your incredible arse is grinding back and forth. You’re riding yourself to absolute delirium with…
A spare bedroll.
Astarion’s hand stutters to a stop and he doesn’t even breathe as realization hits him. You weren’t with someone else at all. The whole time, you’ve been furiously fucking yourself, grinding needily against your bedding for relief.
And somehow, some way, that makes him even harder. He mouths “oh, fuck” and goes back to stroking himself with renewed vigor.
You’re desperately aroused, no longer trying to quiet your whimpers as you work your hips in circles against the bedroll while you rub yourself at the same time, your shoulders flushed with need. Your body undulates in wave after wave and Astarion feels quite certain that if he were inside you right now, he’d have come already. He puts his free hand over his mouth, pressing his palm to his lips to keep quiet.
You make a frustrated noise and swing your leg off the bedroll, and for a brief alarming moment, Astarion thinks you’re about to give up, and there’s no way he could let that stand. For either of you.
But then you shove the bedroll away with a huff and flop onto your back without opening your eyes, which is good news for Astarion, since you’d almost certainly see the silhouette of him outside your tent if you were paying attention. Instead, you spread your legs wide and give him a glorious view as one hand returns to its place between your legs and is quickly joined by the other.
Astarion shudders out a breath, the sound thankfully masked by your own rapid pants as you stroke yourself with one hand and trace around your entrance with the other. When you push two fingers inside and begin to pump in and out, Astarion’s knees threaten to give out as he picks up his pace. The tide of pleasure in his core rises and threatens to crest.
Gods, gods, he isn’t even fucking you and you’re still going to make him come before you do.
Your pretty little moans are too much. Your furrowed brow, your flushed cheeks, the way your thighs twitch and your belly shivers with the pleasure you’re lavishing on yourself. What a beauty you are, what a treat, what a-
“-arion,” you whisper, so quietly that he nearly misses it.
“Hah,” he breathes, his pleasure shuddering right on the edge of its peak. His mind must’ve filled that in. There’s no way you said what he thought you said.
He presses his face to the split in the fabric and leans against the tentpole, jerking himself firmly as he watches you arch your back up off the ground, lifting your hips into the air again, again, again, until your hands slow.
“Oh, Astarion,” you whisper just before you slam back down to earth and groan out your release, your slick making your skin shine in the low light.
“Sh-”
Astarion slams his hand over his mouth and ducks to the side, sinking silently to the ground around the corner of your tent just before he creams himself, a pulse of spend striping the ground beneath him, followed by another, and another. His head hangs heavily before him as he catches his breath and dazedly tries to piece together what the fuck just happened.
He sits back, chest heaving and ears ringing.
Then whips his head to the side when he hears you stir inside the tent and tentatively say, “... Hello? Is someone there?”
Astarion holds his breath, which does not help with his current state of floaty lightheadedness.
Then you say, “... Astarion?”
And the sound of his name on your lips sends another ripple of pleasure through him as his cock pulses and drips one last time for good measure.
It takes a minute, but you eventually convince yourself you were hearing things and settle down to sleep, presumably in a more relaxed state than when you first retired. Astarion waits until your breathing slows before he sneaks away, silently tucking himself back into his clothes.
He holds his breath the entire time.
On the other side of camp inside the safety of his own tent, he releases it in a rush, running his unused hand through his curls as realization finally catches up to him.
You've been stressed in the last few rounds of the Jack of Hearts game, so Chishiya decides it's time to help you relax.
Content: Fluffy smut, teasing, slight exhibitionist kink, jacket stays on during sex.
Word count: ~1.4k
a/n: i have a ton of fics to post already (3) but I'm scared of posting them all at the same time in case i run out of inspiration and don't post anything for a while so I'm really spacing them out. also got my first ask a few days ago so I'm working on it anon!!
"Are you sure they won't hear?" You bite your lip, hesitantly wrapping your hands around his neck while your right leg bounces nervously.
"Sure." But his answer doesn't do much to calm your nerves. You know he'd take you anywhere, regardless of who could hear. His arms wrap around your waist and lift you on top of the dusty plastic table. It'd do, at least until you got out of the game.
A small, dark storage closet wasn't the most romantic spot, but he had grabbed your hand after the tenth round was over and guided you to the furthest away room he could find.
It's been a few long hours, and with the remaining contestants all having another person they could trust, the game had proven hard to break. He'd just have to break you, in the meantime.
His hands fly to your shorts, unbuttoning and unzipping and throwing them away in a blink of your eyes. Your hands fly to his pants, but you're considerably slower than usual, your mind still wrapped around the details of the game, the players, the rules, how to—
"Don't think." He stops you with a call of your name. "Let me worry about that. For now, I want your attention on me." He slips off his pants himself with that awfully sexy smirk. Oh.
You give him an uncertain, anxious smile, and you cup his face and lean in to get lost on his lips. He's a great kisser. An amazing kisser. And as his tongue sneaks into your mouth you forget everything about the game.
He doesn't let you dwell on anything for too long. He's already pushing into you, unzipping your skimpy shorts and pushing your panties to the side, while your tongue remains wrapped around his. You're so used to his cock it feels like getting home whenever he pushes inside of you.
The moans you produce are swallowed by him until you weakly push him away, gulping in a breath and throwing your head back. He lets his head get pushed back, though he doesn't pull his strong grip of your hips away, pushing slowly to help you get used to his cock. He isn't the girthiest, but he's long.
"I'll have to make this quick, won't I?" You're too busy getting dicked down by him to actually reply, but you mentally answer, your thoughts trying to pull you away from him. He pulls you back to him when he sheathes inside of you and his tip grazes the spongy spot inside of you.
"Chishiya!" You yell, completely out of your control, and he covers your mouth as you dig your nails in the back of his jacket just lightly, in warning of what's to come.
"We can't have you screaming out for everyone to know what we're up to. Remember the couple just before the game?" He whispers, right in your ear, causing you to shiver. Of course you remember, Chishiya had pointed them out to you, and it made your cheeks flush red even if it wasn't your moans that were ringing through the cells. They definitely are now, though.
The words (that he definitely purred out like a cat) make you bend into his body, hide your face in his shoulder and replace his hand on your mouth with his neck. He hasn't even started thrusting yet and he has you at his mercy.
"Are you hiding from me?" He laughs, so unbelievably irritating, especially when he has you in this position. You open your mouth to retort, but he grabs your hips and pulls out only to thrust back in.
"Chishiya!" It's halfway between a word and a moan, but he doesn't really mind how loud it is, lifting your knees up to the height of his shoulders, only to fasten the rhythm until it causes you to slump on top of him.
"You're not going to talk back to me?" He hums, and swallows a groan that you definitely noticed from resting your head so close to his neck.
"I—" You muffle another moan on the softness of his white jacket. "Stop teasing." You demand, as if it would change his incorregible behavior.
"But I love how flustered you get." He laughs, a small noise on the back of his throat, and you can feel the vibration as you wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face in order to muffle an impending moan.
"Stay quiet." He reminds, but he doesn't stop his thrusts or his soft breaths on your neck, doesn't offer a hand on covering your mouth again since muffling your moans on his shoulder doesn't seem to work.
"C-Can't." You admit, through bitten back moans and soft whines that had the potential to be screams.
"You can." He pushes. He always adores pushing your limits, seeing how many you can take of his fingers, or how many orgasms until you beg him to stop, or in this case, how long until you are forced to scream out from the pleasure.
You kick at him from your very limited position he holds you up in. His hands under your knees, bringing them up to your chest to really be able to break you in half. He doesn't stop his thrusts, though, laughing lowly through your kicks and squirms and muffled whines.
It's not long until you feel that familiar feeling in the bottom of your tummy, a warmth that threatens to make you scream so loud that everyone in the building will know what you're up to (if they didn't, already). Chishiya can feel how you're tightening up around him, unfortunately, and he will never miss the chance to make you flustered.
"Are you close?" He whispers, and if you were able to look at his face you'd witness his signature smirk on his face.
"No." You reply, maybe a beat too fast, but you forget how well he knows you, how well he has studied your body, how well he has memorized the pulses of your pussy and the twitches of your stomach. He doesn't reply, he lets you think he believed your lie, only adjusting your body slightly in reply.
You keep muffling your sounds and digging your nails on his back for the next minute, though it feels like a long, agonizing hour has passed when he finally gets rougher, quicker, even if only by a split second. It's just what you need to get over the edge.
That is, until Chishiya lets go of your left knee, running his hand down your stomach and your heat until his finger grazes your soft, aching clit.
Just the soft touch makes your hips fly from the table to his, moaning with disinterest over who hears. He laughs, low and teasing, and pushes your head into the nape of his neck, but you can't hear anything over the blood rushing to your ears and your heavy pants as you reach your climax and cover his dick in slick white.
He doesn't stop the thrusts into you, and his breaths turn labored and heavy. He's close, you know by the way he seems tempted to bury his face on your neck too, by the way he almost curls into you, by the way that he has stopped laughing and resorted to panting into your ear.
"Are you close?" You bite back, now your turn to pull him close to you by wrapping your legs around his waist. He grunts back, so low you barely hear it.
It's not every day Chishiya seems so fixated on your body, almost like he also has something in his mind he wants to lose inside of you, so you know you'll take full advantage of it. You cup his face with one hand, bringing him close to you as you face his ear.
A breathy, pornographic moan of his name next to his ear is all he needs, and with no warning, he cums deep inside of you, staying still with a final thrust of his hips.
He stays inside of you for a couple of seconds, wrapping his arms around you. Only after both of your breaths have evened out and you stop shivering he cuts through the silence. "You know you have nothing to be scared of, right? Not while I'm here. I'll find the Jack."
"Mhm." He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his eyebrows level, but the corner of his lip twitches up just barely, you're sure you caught it.
forwards, beckon, rebound. / machine herald!viktor x reader, 18+, reader is fem bodied, angst, size difference, fingering, choking, dry humping, praise, russian terms of endearment, somewhat toxic relationship, mild augmentation kink, way too many emotions, mix of arcane + league lore / spoilers. word count: 16.2k
read on ao3
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Viktor enjoys making you feel helpless.
Technically, it isn't enjoyment so much as it is a responsibility; you'll repeatedly show up at his secluded lab in the Undercity, and as he does with everyone who comes to his doorstep worn and destitute, he'll take it upon himself to give you what you need. You are like the rest of his endeavors — meticulously examined, ambitiously furthered. But unlike his various grandiose experiments and his pursuits for evolution, it isn't just his mind you occupy.
There is some dusty, disregarded hole in his once-perfect mechanical heart, and if the hypothesis he's formed but doesn't want to acknowledge is correct, you are the most probable cause. Or perhaps, you'd be the cure.
Carefully, with his usual amount of precision, Viktor pulls his leather glove from his hand. He allows his fingers to flex: scarred skin improved by intricately-crafted metal joints. He's positioned above you, large and imposing while he keeps you pinned beneath him. The firm, steel surface of his giant worktable feels cool against your bare back. The room itself is dim, worktable lit by an overhead lamp that burns when you happen to look directly at it. Thankfully, Viktor's armored form above you, encased in dark shadow, blocks out most of the light.
The Hextech third arm on his back grasps your wrists unwaveringly, and keeps them in place above your head, utilizing an exorbitant display of strength. You can't move a muscle, not even if you tried. Lingering heat sears into your skin, radiating from the metal — from where the laser he's perfected could easily sever your wrists from the bone.
What's more, you can hardly think. Your head is spinning; your heart pounds from between your ribs, fiercely yet uselessly. You can only stare at the glowing, emotionless eyes of Viktor's mask, and wait for him to decide what he plans to do with you. Gentle. With the way you're looking at him, you need him to be gentle, this time.
He presses his palm to the center of your chest, where he can feel the erratic beat of your heart. Slowly, he begins to drag his hand down. It's a knowing, practiced motion — not as soft as it ought to be, considering his cold, purple-veined hand and calloused fingers. As his touch is brought down to your stomach, your waist, you shiver, and your body relaxes. Finally, fully.
It doesn't take long for you to arch into his touches, just as he predicted, just as you always do. Your flesh loves to sing for him.
This dance has been performed by the both of you numerous times beforehand. Viktor questions if you'll ever grow tired of it. Of the pirouetting, of revolving constantly around unspoken, trembling complications, just to return, to let your mind and your heart reel all over again.
What he feels for you — what he has evaluated from you, because machines do not feel — is something unexplainable, foreign, futile. He knows this, this dynamic you've fostered; it hardly makes sense. You are allies with no common goals. You were friends, some disregarded years ago. Every other night, you stumble into his lab to interrupt his work, and he lets you.
No, he indulges you.
"You are quivering," Viktor hums, voice muffled and deepened by the mask's filter. A usual, matter-of-fact statement, but the edges of his tone sharpen in the wake of a held-back, dark chuckle. "You want me to touch you. Say it."
The powerful, vastly-superior Machine Herald already has you right where he wants you.
Slightly riddled with static, the way his thick accent curls around the words only serves to make you shudder more. Your breathing is choppy, your chest rapidly rising and falling.
Not from fear, if Viktor had to guess. His scans of your heart rate would come across much differently if that was the case. This is from arousal. Clear, easily definable arousal. Just from his thick voice, his soft touch, and the imagery provided by his large body above yours.
The sight of you is addictive. Addiction isn't a sensation built into his mechanical repertoire, but it's the best word he can think of to describe this. You are small when you're underneath him. So malleable, so fragile. So human. How abnormal. The compulsive surge that runs through his veins should not, according to all of his tests and conclusive research, be occurring.
Viktor supposes this type of behavior would be more fitting of the past version of him. Presently, he doesn't have room to let time go to waste. His vision is all that matters. The old him, though, the Viktor you once knew would've given you whatever you desired without a second thought, even though he hardly deserved it.
He was weak, once. For you, perhaps a part of him still is.
You are intelligent, you always have been. He has cast away much of his past in pursuit of chasing a better, more important future, but still, he remembers each and every moment he shared with you quite vividly. They play in the background of his mind sometimes, persistent like a system error, recurrent like a late-night looping television program.
Your inventions often kept pace with his. Your smile was bright, brighter than the pillars of light that shone from Piltover's grandest lighthouses. Starry-eyed and driven, you wanted to improve, as a person and as a scientist. You challenged him to push further right alongside you.
Of course, you knew him better than most, but Viktor wonders: did you ever expect him to go this far? Did you ever plan on retreating back to Zaun with him, to fall further into madness together?
By now, you must be smart enough to know he is different. What you might've had, a friendship or a partnership or something delightedly improbable, it is now nothing. Nothing more than another one of his shed weaknesses and old, discarded memories.
Perfect machinery does not feel. Not even for you, no matter what it once felt. Scientifically, it can't. You should understand this relationship is not beneficial. He could and would gladly break you, it's what he built himself to do. And yet, as he's starting to realize, perhaps being broken by him is exactly what you want.
"Please touch me," You're begging, as his palm caresses the all-too-human curve of your side. Your voice is warm, lustful. A sweet, familiar taste settles in the back of his throat, as you coo the old nickname you still reserve just for him. "I need you to, Vik."
And just like always, because of you, because of his predisposed sense of responsibility, or perhaps because of an unrecognized fault in his complex machinery — Viktor gives in.
He revels in your vulnerable, quivering limbs and your heavy, desperate gaze. The grip of his Hexclaw tightens on your wrists, your hands closing, fingers tensed. He drags his palm down your stomach slowly, carefully. His gentleness is calculated, but it is yours, all the same.
Your legs spread for him on impulse when his hand reaches your thigh. He squeezes, before he brings his hand between them, allowing the end of his index finger to brush your clit; his touch is precise, with all the efficiency and learned confidence of a flawless, apathetic machine. He could make you fall apart for him so easily, every part of you perfectly attuned to his touch, and his touch alone.
Yet, he's teasing you, careful and slight touches barely grazing where you're oh-so sensitive for him. Your thighs shake, and spread wider; your body is exposed to him, soft and sweat-soaked expanses of skin contrasting splendidly with his bulky, armored chassis of metal. Now, instead of his index, Viktor uses his thumb, providing more friction and a slightly firmer touch. You squirm, the pretty features of your face washed over in pleasure, before you breathe a small, satisfied whine.
"That's it," He murmurs firmly. "To think this is all it takes to make you submit."
Viktor allows his thumb to trace circles onto your swollen, needy clit, and your breath proceeds to hitch so deliciously for him. An action, and reaction. Repeated experiments make for predictable results. Hextech hand practically digging into your wrists, Viktor brings his free, metal hand to your cheek. Oddly tender, his cold palm cups your face. He isn't surprised at the response it gets out of you, your chest heaving with a deep, trembling sigh. Every part of your skin tingles, as you lean into his faux, steel touch.
"Earlier, you wished to be defiant. Disobedient." Viktor scolds, his thumb flicking over your clit while his fingers brush your cunt, gathering your dripping slick on the digits. He takes his metal hand away from your cheek, and he presses it flat to the table, right beside your head. Your brows pinch disappointedly, clearly unsatisfied with his subtle form of punishment.
"And now look at you. Wet and desperate."
He's barely touched you, barely even begun with you, and you're already dripping.
"I wasn't- I'm not disobedient," You're countering, although it's damn near impossible to keep your voice sounding steady when his persistent touch is toying with you. He's teasing, circling your clit agonizingly slowly, just to make you squirm. "I brought you everything you asked for. Like always."
"Yes, and you did well," Viktor praises flatly. As though he's reading off a trained script, rather than watching the way your eyelids flutter as his knuckles brush your entrance. "Our current project will run smoothly now, utilizing the tech you acquired for us. But when I told you to wait, to bring the tech after I had finalized our plans, you did not listen."
You admit simply, foolishly, "I missed you."
Those words are familiar. You'll often tell him you missed him when he returns to the lab, home at last after finalizing a few affairs elsewhere. You said you missed his face the first time you saw it, your hands gently holding his cheeks, caressing metal and skin — despite how different he looks now. Despite the scars, the mechanical parts.
He knows you missed him. In a soft, delicate way. In an indecent, desperate way. His form of longing is much, much different. When the mortal matter and fraying wires of his brain yearn to have your presence beside him, with him, under him, it is strong, it is carnivorous. It is encompassing.
"You nearly comprised everything we've been working towards." Viktor's third arm tightens even more, making your wrists and arms go nearly numb. "There is only so much I can do to protect you. I disposed of the last enforcers to attempt tracking you down, but if you were to lead them here, you will not just be putting yourself at risk. You are threatening our entire vision with your recklessness."
Carefully, his index finger finds your entrance: sensitive and wanting. He deliberately pulls his hand away when you whine, instead placing his palm back on your inner thigh. Your skin is soft to the touch. Your gaze stays steady on him, on the unflinching shape of his mask, your eyelids heavy, pupils blown with clear arousal. As though he encompasses all you need, anything you could possibly want, and everything that could devastate you.
You are frustratingly beautiful.
Viktor hums, the sound low, somewhat mechanical. He gently guides his hand over your neck, just how you like, until large, metal fingers are wrapping around your throat. Not squeezing, just tightly holding. Enough to ground you, to remind you of who you belong to. You let go of a sigh, your eyes growing heavier. Your heart is skipping, and with his hand around your throat, the subtle vibrations of your quick pulse shudder through his complex machinery.
"Viktor-" You start, voice weak, barely there. "I'm-"
"I know you want more." He squeezes your thigh, applies just enough pressure to your throat to make your mind go fuzzy. "Tell me what you have been waiting for me to give to you, what you desired so strongly that you ran to me, instead of following the plan. And perhaps, I'll let you have it."
You tremble: a full-body, tingling shudder. Viktor — the Machine Herald — is so much larger, so much stronger than you. He's augmented himself to be significantly taller, significantly more imposing, and underneath him like this, you must look meager. Pathetic. Fully bare, your legs spread open for him. Giving yourself to him so easily. Your chest heaves, your mortal heart skipping and wavering at the sight of him above you, pinning you beneath his heavy, metal form.
"Breathe, zayka," Viktor murmurs, his grip on your neck loosening up. "Your heart is racing. Focus on me."
Taking in slower, deeper breaths, your mind quiets, your pulse calms. Stars and static thrum in the corners of your vision, your thoughts a knotted up blur. Viktor — his touch is all you can focus on — traces his fingers further up your thigh in approval.
"There. Very good. You're alright."
"Your fingers," You pant, "Please."
Viktor scoffs, his tone mechanical and rough, "You can do better. Try again."
Huffing, your head knocks the firm worktable when you toss it backward.
"Bastard." Your hands clench and unclench, your wrists giving a poor attempt at struggling against their hold. To no avail, of course. "Are you at least going to let me touch you?"
"No. Answer me. Do not make me repeat myself."
You briefly gnaw on your bottom lip, your jaw tense, thighs shaky. "I need your fingers inside me, Vik. I've missed you, I need you, please. I'm going fucking crazy."
Viktor's unmoving, glowing eyes examine you carefully. "That's it. That is much more sufficient. So exquisite, when you are begging. Take what you need, then."
You're well aware he isn't the same man you once fell for, nor is he the soft-spoken, bright scientist you once knew. Rumors paint him as a maker, a monster, a machine. He is cold to the touch. He isn't supposed to feel, he removed such functions ages ago; they were useless to him. As were his failing lungs, his weak legs, his heart. A heart made from machinery never skips. It can't be blinded by love, or lust. It cannot be distracted by old, unkindled flames, in the same way you often are. You envy him, somewhat.
But Gods, when it's just you and him in his lonely little corner of Zaun, and when you are at the pleasant mercy of his perfected touch, you swear, he feels more human than anything. Nothing else truly matters, because still, he is yours.
Viktor's index finger slides inside you slowly, just barely stretching you around its thickness. You're wet enough that he could press it in easily, could have you melting and drooling over whatever you're given — but instead, he chooses to let the digit fill you languidly. The feeling is slight, enveloping and enthralling and familiar, yet not enough to make you feel full, at the same time. His fingers are long, dexterous. Pretty and scarred.
You've watched him work on plenty of augments and automatons, hands tightly grasping a wrench to turn it, fingers carefully holding the ends of thin wires to thread them together. Each action swift, exact.
With the same level of precision, Viktor presses his finger deep inside you, and crooks it upward to nudge it right against your sweetest spot — and you whimper, your whole body shivering, collapsing.
"One is never enough to satisfy you," He asserts; he gently pumps his finger into you to a steady, easily manageable pace. "Isn't that right?"
If his mask weren't there, you're sure you'd see him speaking through a slight grin, maniacal and crooked, impossibly him. Your heart pounds. You're doomed, you must be.
In response, you nod your head fiercely. Another shaky moan tears through you as he works you on his slender digit. Pressing in, dragging out. Calculated and perfectly steady, like the continuous beats of a metronome.
"Or," Viktor questions, "Should I have you come undone around just one?"
"No," You snap quickly, although you're obviously in no position to be making demands. Your eyes flutter open, your face contorted in a mix of pleasure and frustration. He finds your desperation strangely satisfying. All for him. It's the same sort of hungry satisfaction that comes with working on an automation, striding closer and closer to a job well done. He adjusts, pushing your legs apart with his large knees when they tremble and threaten to close.
"Give me two," You're pleading, "Please."
Viktor hums, the sound low and vibrating.
"Guiding you to your peak would prove trivial, even without the means of penetration. You are simple. Easy to unravel." His low, intimidating voice effortlessly sends goosebumps careening down your spine. "You could most likely be led to cum against my shoe or my thigh, from modest friction and my voice alone."
"Viktor," You almost wince at how pathetic you sound. "Stop talking."
Viktor eases his index finger as deep inside you as you can take, and heat surges across your form in thundering, breaking waves. "Why would I stop when you are enjoying it?"
Oh, he knows you far too well.
"Dammit, at least-" You exhale, trembling through a moan, and Viktor's Hextech arm holds onto your wrists impossibly tighter as your hips roll into his hand — desperate to feel more of him. It works, momentarily. Until he is using his free hand to firmly grip your waist: thick metal fingers digging into warm, pretty skin. He pushes you back against the worktable, holding you in place.
You groan in frustration. "At least quit teasing me."
"Such impatience. I am working you upwards, gradually conditioning you to take higher levels of stimuli. It will make the process as a whole much more pleasurable."
"Gods if you weren't wearing that stupid mask, I would shut you up in no-"
"I always satiate you, milaya," Viktor answers calmly, as he slowly drags his finger out, leaving you quivering and empty. The nickname he uses is tender, familiar. It reminds you of your once different life. Vividly, it forms blossoms in your chest, unfurling flowers and delicate petals. Tugging sweetly at your thudding heart, despite the cold artificiality of his manufactured tone. Milaya. His darling.
Though, the Machine Herald does not covet. What he desires, he takes and makes his.
"Interesting," He's muttering, seemingly mostly to himself. "Your neediness has greatly increased since the last time we convened. Normally, you are capable of controlling yourself. To a certain extent."
He tsks, metal hand caressing slow, reassuring circles onto your waist, while his other palm dives back between your legs. His fingers drag over your cunt with an irrational sense of clumsiness, considering the motion is coming from him. He lets his fingertips search for nothing in particular, getting them slick with your arousal, nudging your clit carelessly with his knuckles until your back is arching, and your sighs are sharpening.
"Sorry." You mumble a half-hearted apology, eyelids softly fluttering.
"It was not a complaint." Viktor presses his fingertips close, dangerously closer.
Your body needs him, needs what only he can give to you. His hands, his fingers inside you. Every inch of you screams for his touch. As though you are a solved puzzle, a piece of technology broken down to let him understand each individual part. Your thighs shake, and that's part A. Your chest heaves, your shoulders go tense. Significantly human responses. Components labeled B, C, D, V. Your lips quiver, before they mutter another breathless, desperate plea of his name.
Predictable, and understandable. Yet, for certain, you are a delight to decipher. Those pieces and budding sensations come together as he thought they would, and they — and you, are primed to be bent at his will.
You expect him to tease you further. When he falls silent, becoming more impossible to read than he already was, you feel your arms and your thighs tense with what must be anticipation. Surely, he can sense how eager you are.
But Viktor doesn't falter, he does not hesitate. He guides his metal hand underneath your back, predicting its arch, and he presses two of his fingers, his middle and ring, to your drooling entrance. They slide into you with a filthy, wet noise; it's almost obscene how eagerly your cunt accepts them. How you plead with whiny utterances of yes, yes, your voice breaking, eyes closing. He eases them inside you slowly, fills you with them completely — until his scarred knuckles are nudging against you, and you're sobbing through a half-sigh, half-moan.
He doesn't wait to hear you beg for more. You're given a calculated amount of time, just enough seconds to catch your breath and get used to the stretch of both digits inside you. He fucks you on his fingers, pumping them in and out to the tune of your broken whines and gasps for air. It's a gradual process. A coded, mastered technique well-baked into his mind, his heart, and his hardware.
Of course, he's long since learned just how to make you fall apart. He has studied you, he's proceeded to subconsciously store your data in the most important vault in his mind. It is simply a matter of getting you there, of drawing out your pleas for him and your tremors and your pulses, to push you even further past your previous crescendos.
You can always be louder. Finish harder. You deserve to. And when it comes to any and all of his endeavors, including this one, he is persistently, unquenchably ambitious.
"Vik-" You're babbling, in a wavering voice he might logically, astutely label as precious. His quiet lab echoes with the whirr of various displays and devices. With your soft noises, echoing alongside the wet squelch his fingers make each time he presses them deeper. "Please, I just- I'm so- I want you so much-"
"You have me," He answers rigidly. Prepared and intentional, his fingers move slower, drawing out your moans and your shudders of pleasure. "Or were you demanding more?"
"I always want more with you." A faint, endearing pout forms on your features, the kind of look only he can draw from you. "Want- I want you to fuck me."
It isn't anything of importance; just an aimless, desperate plea. The kind you might be expected to ask of him when you're in this state — your mind wandering, your body relaxed. You need fuel for your building fire, you need to hear him outline through words what he can't through actions. You cannot make him feel as you do, but Viktor is kind enough to let you play pretend.
Though, for whatever strange, unrecognizable, illogical reason, he goes against the fixed line of actions he was previously adhering to, and he hesitates. He contemplates. He twitches, circuitry briefly inoperable, fuzzy and working against him. His center, his self-regulating core, hums with marginally more force than it did before. The hand he has pressed to your back trembles. It thrums with artificial, built-up heat, before he grips you much tighter.
Fortunately, he rediscovers his composure as quickly as it waned. Viktor quirks his fingers into your sweet spot to make you cry out for him, and then he drags them half-way out — every moment agonizingly slow, so he can admire the way the digits glisten in the lamplight.
"Filthy little thing." His voice is thick. His words are stern, making you picture how his jaw might be tightened. "I am already providing you everything you asked for, and yet still, you act greedy. Human desire is terribly intemperate."
"As if-" You're squirming, sweating, your hair a mess, warm gaze and moon-wide pupils locked onto his obscured face. "As if you feel nothing from this."
"I cannot feel. You are well aware of this reality. I suggest you do not continue to persuade yourself otherwise."
"Bullshit."
"In fact, I do feel nothing." Viktor brings his thumb to your clit on his next press in, rubbing it roughly, circling it precisely. "I am incapable of experiencing desire," His fingers crook and spread. "Nor enjoyment." They pump slowly, while they stretch you around their shape. "Or affection."
"But you were worried about me- fuck- when I went off on that stupid mission," You're mumbling, barely able to speak through ragged gasps for breath, "You were fretting over my safety. You- hah, you stopped everything you were doing just to check on me, because you felt relieved, you felt happy when you saw me walk in, didn't you?"
Did he?
Hours earlier, you returned to his doorstep, and he knew it was you from the way you knocked; he put aside the small automaton he was working on, and hurried to meet you at the door. He gave you a quick once over — in this form, he is vastly larger and taller than you, to the point where you have to crane your neck to look up at him — but you assured him you hadn't been injured. When you fell against his armored chest in something of an embrace, he didn't push you away. Nor did he protest when you pulled his heavy, bulky shape on top of you as you fell back against the nearest surface, his additional sensors picking up your already increasing breathing and heart rate.
He recalls your arms around him, hands tugging at his cape, removing sections of his armor, fingers threading through his hair. Soft lips pressing to cold steel —
Viktor tenses. You are plenty capable on your own, capable enough that he rarely considers whether or not you'll return. You always do, after all. This mission was considerably riskier, though. Considerably more worrisome.
If anything had happened to you, if he discovered you were injured or captured or worse, his subsequent reaction would be less than logical. His mental processes would malfunction, and he would lose the ability to think rationally. The stifling, unstoppable force that would build within him could be compared to something like rage, something like love.
You swallow thickly, and the room swirls around you in a dizzy haze as Viktor slowly pulls his fingers from you. Leaving you empty.
He murmurs, "Look at me."
It's a little difficult of a command to follow, with your head spinning and your eyes all heavy. Still, you force yourself to breathe deeply, to steady, in the wake of the sudden lack of attention.
You look up, and his hand, fingers slick and filthy, momentarily moves to grasp your chin. He tilts you towards him, to make sure you're watching. Viktor reaches up, and he presses a mechanism on the side of his mask. It hisses, releasing air, small puffs of steam streaming from either side.
He removes it tentatively. He tosses it aside with a bit less caution, causing it to clink, spin, and nearly fall when it hits the upper edge of the table.
You're met with messy brown hair, scarred skin, and familiar moles. The entirety of his jaw is made of metal, reconstructed into intricately crafted steel that continues down his neck and underneath his armor. His skin is overly pale, to the point where you can notice deep eye bags, and the criss-crossings of several individual, purple-hued veins. His expression is stern and deadpan, his brows slightly creased. He takes you in, gaze flickering down for a moment, then back up — and searing eyes, dark purple pools and bright orange suns, finally meet your own.
"Your legs," He's instructing; his voice, no longer filtered through the mask, sounds warmer, clearer, a little less deep. Despite everything, terribly familiar, and blissfully human. "Place them around me."
Unable to stifle a smile, you lift your thighs, casually locking them around his back at the ankles. You rarely get to see his face, and it's impossible to keep your eyes off of him, nor can you stop your heart from pounding. Viktor returns your gaze, cold and unflinching. It's like he's examining you, regarding you with the same restrained interest as he'd have for the subjects of his experiments.
"There you are," You're cooing, head tilting, "Vitya."
Viktor's expression finally shifts from his usual indifference, his brows scrunching up to form a slightly irritated scowl.
"Defiant again. As expected."
"You used to like it when I called you that. Am I not allowed to tease you now?" You're laughing, and your smaller frame, still pinned underneath him, shifts somewhat when he loosens his grasp on your wrists. A faint amount of mercy. You offer him one of those radiant smiles he can't stand — can't resist. "You can be such a hypocrite."
"Open your mouth," Viktor sneers coldly, "So it can be put to better use."
With a firm, metal hand, he holds the curve of your soft side, measuring your individual tremors, paying attention to the steady movement of your lungs. His gaze flickers between your eyes, your lips. Your breath hitches, and your mouth forms a line. You can't help but roll your eyes.
"I can just leave, you know," You mutter, your voice still playful, yet noticeably a few volumes lower. "But I'm guessing you don't want me to."
Funny. You seem to think you could escape from his grasp.
"Open. Your. Mouth. Before I give in, and do something I shouldn't."
"I'm not-"
Your protest fizzles out into a surprised noise and a subsequent sigh; Viktor grabs you, he pulls you closer in tandem with surging forwards, and his mouth promptly crashes into yours.
Finally.
The kiss tastes sharp, like iron and ash, like something distinctly him when his tongue slowly brushes against yours. You allow your eyes to close — but Viktor hardly leaves you any room for air as he practically devours you. It's deep, enthralling, and clumsy. Needy, on your end, and hungry on his. The kind of kiss that possesses you, consumes you. Your mind is dizzy, your breath is gone, but you need to kiss him more than you need to breathe.
You melt into him gently, naturally. Like you were always meant to. His hand cups your face, his thumb brushing your cheek: a motion far too soft, far too important.
When he pulls away, finally giving you some breathing room, your eyes immediately meet. Your chest is heaving, your heart warm and pounding to a tempo made just for him. His gaze is once again sharp, once again perfectly composed.
You miss the softness of his lips already. "Vik."
And he needs you, needs more of you. He's wanted to feel your lips against his for far longer than you or even he could have realized. Since those days when you were both young and stupid, when you vowed to achieve your dreams together. As though your gentle voice pleading his name is just tender enough to push him over a metaphorical edge, to flip some hidden switch in his complex mechanics — He kisses you again, again, again.
All of this, it isn't meant for him. It is unfathomably human, from the way you breathe fervently against his mouth; stuttered breaths, quicker than his, heavier than his own could ever be. To the way he touches you, a half-machine's best imitation of intimacy. His still-human palm moves to brush your neck, then glides further to hold the back of your head. Your body is all awkward limbs and soft edges and smooth skin, but you fit underneath him oh-so perfectly.
He can't stop. It doesn't seem real; Viktor imagines he must have fallen into a different reality, he's in a different body with a different, mortal heart. None of this makes an ounce of logical sense otherwise. Then again, when do you ever make sense?
He can't focus on anything but your lips on his — because for a few fleeting moments, he isn't defined by metal and machinery; he is himself. He is a mess of muddled thoughts and imperfect touches. Your legs around his back pull his figure closer to yours, and you have him wondering what it might entail without any steel in the way. Just skin against skin.
It'd be impossible for him to feel such a thing, when there's little skin left. His entire arm, his legs, his torso, his spine; they've since been replaced, improved upon. Is this the closest he'll ever get to you, to love?
Waves upon waves of warmth wash over you, they drown you, they envelop you. Even once Viktor has finally pulled apart from you with one last soft kiss, you still aren't able to breathe. Your heart pounds against your ribs, so fiercely it almost hurts.
He settles back above you, and as you calm again, he holds your gaze. His slender fingers move to trace the column of your throat, where they not-so-subtly seek out your pulse. It's racing for him. He looks remarkably composed now, compared to how disheveled you're sure you appear.
Gently, he trails his hand upwards. His thumb swipes your kiss-swollen bottom lip. Your mouth parts instinctually, allowing him to carefully press the digit into your warm mouth, onto your wet tongue.
"Do not leave," Viktor murmurs, an analytical edge already returning to his tone, in spite of what transpired between you. He pulls his thumb from your mouth, brushing it over your bottom lip again, smearing your lips with your saliva. "Stay for tonight."
"Are you asking? Or is that a demand?" Your breath on his skin is foggy and hot. When it's clear he isn't going to answer, his gaze regarding you inquisitively, you propose another question. Your hands clench, they briefly push against the unyielding grip of his Hexclaw. "Will you let my hands go now?"
"Tsk. Only if you are capable of keeping them to yourself."
"C'mon…" You hum disappointedly. He appears routinely unaffected by your pouting. So, you change your approach.
You shuffle, trying to get more comfortable. The table beneath you feels especially firm. "What if I say please? Is that what you're looking for?"
"Go ahead. It will not affect my decision."
"Seriously? But I want to touch you. You're so pretty."
Viktor hesitates, but only briefly. He senses the whirring in his chest, the usual hum of his augmented components. Substitutions where imperfect pieces should be, strength replacing frailty, mechanics coming to life once more as his mind becomes forcibly unclouded. His systems are working as usual again. All it took to experience a malfunction was your lips on his, and all he needed to do to rebuild his composure was pull away. And you are still a gasping, heavy-eyed mess.
Still, there is something troubling him. The same illogical functions that've been prodding at his mind since the very beginning. Lingering errors. Faults in his perfected frame. When he looks at you now, he strongly senses the push and pull of those inaccuracies.
If he allows you to touch him, each framework, every mechanism — Everything he's been carefully constructing might come crashing down.
Would that be so bad?
Pretty. How ridiculous. Viktor scoffs, his jaw tensing up, his next words arbitrary. "Most are afraid when they look at me."
Perhaps they should be. Perhaps you should be.
But you just smile, your expression growing soft as you tilt your head, and you answer in earnest: "I don't think I've ever been scared of you."
Again, there goes his worthless, thrumming, obsolete heart.
You should be afraid of a man who's designed himself to fit an image you no longer recognize. You shouldn't try to get so close to him, when his compulsive obsession to destroy and remake borders on a clear line of danger. This new chassis embodies perfection. It has long since relinquished any weaknesses, but if you detested him, he wouldn't blame you. Others are reluctant to embrace his vision, save for a select, fortunate few. You and him have history. History that would make seeing him like this rather difficult, he assumes.
Usually, Viktor is able to keep any oversights from throwing him off course. He can't be distracted from achieving his goals. The people of Zaun need him. This new body poses no hindrances. Pain doesn't disrupt him; it can be turned out, like anything else. Pain of the body, and pain of the heart.
You, though. Any thoughts he has of you start as small blips. Tiny, persistent sparks. They build overtime, burning brighter, hotter. Until he sees you, and you look just like how you did back then, so, so long ago. There are tired lines on your face, faint scars, and he knows they're his fault. All at once, his mind is threatening to become a mess of discordant, fraying parameters, of processes that are refusing to function in the manner they should.
He wants to keep you far, far away; far from him, from this lab. Far from this terrible, awful place you both grew up in. If he could, he'd have you go somewhere so very distant, where you couldn't distract him — where you could be happy and free. You will see the sky, feel the sun's warmth, and breathe fresh, cool air. It'd be what's best for you. And he will continue to further his endeavors in evolution. Alone, as intended.
But ultimately, no matter what he winds up doing to his mind or his body, he would think of you. Of holding you or unmaking you, sometimes he isn't sure which. If you were truly afraid, if you ran, he wouldn't follow on your heels. But along with you, you'd take a piece of himself, a faint trace he would never get back; for better, or for worse.
Viktor listens to the sound of your breathing: steady, deep. His gaze studies you, but it lingers on your eyes for longer than intended. You are still looking up at him, smiling, sparkling like a sky full of stars. As though he is a sky filled with stars.
Your breaths become heavier when he presses his palm to the center of your chest. He drags his touch down, down. You are more sensitive this time, he notes. You lean into him once his hand caresses your pelvis, your waist, and you loosen your legs from around his back to become more comfortable. His fingertips trail up your inner thigh, and you shudder, you shiver.
He thinks of kissing you once more. A couple times more, maybe. Proper judgment tells him he should resist. The thought remains there, lingering and burning between you.
"Viktor…" You murmur, your voice a bit broken, but he's hanging onto every word. "Touch me again."
Pleasant sensory inputs glow within him; tingling veins, reverberating wires. Overwhelming heat fills his shoulders, the back of his neck, his head — the heat of machinery, the warmth of his soul.
Viktor grabs your waist assertively, metal fingers digging into your hip. His gaze doesn't waver from yours as he guides your thighs to spread. Suddenly, he pushes himself against you, until you are hopelessly pressed between steel and metal. Between him, and the worktable.
You feel his weight, you feel the intricate ridges of metal plates and hard edges, the artificial heat of his much larger body radiating against your bare skin. Now, you are completely pinned, practically chest to chest, pressed underneath the Machine Herald so closely it's enough to make your head spin. You wonder if he can feel your heart beating. Perhaps he can hear it. Or maybe, he just knows your heart must be pounding for him, as it always does.
Your limbs tremor with excitement. As his palm squeezes your thigh, you can't help but arch into his touch. Thin, skillful fingers press close and feel how wet you are — still so sensitive, already dripping out onto him. You aren't teased, you aren't even able to catch your breath, because two of his fingers are swiftly dipping inside you, giving you exactly what you need.
It feels so right. Viktor reaches for your cheek. He encourages you to continue meeting his gaze when your eyes flutter and nearly close.
Your gaze on his, you let his name leave your mouth in a series of sharp gasps, and desperate pleas. He fills you slowly, but wastes no time building a rhythm; his fingers pump into your sensitive cunt gently, then methodically. Satisfied, Viktor hums, and he carefully shifts his other arm down. He holds your back as it arches, further pressing you against himself.
Now, the way he pleasures you is deliberate, it isn't enough, but Gods, you'll take anything he gives you.
"That name," Viktor starts, speaking in a smooth, level tone, perfectly contrasting the airy huffs and whines you utter for him. The name he hoped to relinquish, his name. "It sounds best when you are pleading it."
You smile through a soft moan. "It's my favorite. Such a sweet name."
Precisely, determinedly, his fingers crook into the spot within you he knows all too well, and you crumble, you sob.
"The tech you brought to me will accelerate the completion of our latest prototype," Viktor is explaining, matter-of-factly. As though the conversation is as simple as it is necessary. Like he doesn't have his large body shoved against you, and his fingers knuckle-deep inside you. It just serves to excite you further, honestly.
"I will install the heat core, and adjust its interior components accordingly. We could have its systems operational by tonight. However, I doubt I will be able to focus."
You take a forced, deep breath. "Yeah? Because of me?"
Obviously, he wants to say. You'll be here, staying in his lab, as you usually do after a tough afternoon or a previous sleepless night. He doesn't mind. Your chatter might occasionally be disruptive to his work, but your voice is nice, it is calming. Your presence itself might be a distraction, an interference that his mind tells him he should discard, but having you here is a nice change of pace, compared to the long, lonesome hours he's grown used to. He has never minded.
Sleep is less of a necessity for him. Resting for a handful of hours a few times per week is usually enough to keep himself operational. The torn leather couch he keeps in his quarters is there just for you. He no longer needs to eat in the typical sense, although he still needs to recharge burned energy. He keeps stocked up on the foods he remembers to be your favorites.
It's strange, out of everything he's forgotten, he still remembers such useless, trivial details. Each and every detail about you.
Without you, this space — the adjustments he's made to accommodate your presence, the dip in the couch from where you always sleep, your articles of clothing strewn over the floor and the couch arms. His lab would feel so empty.
His next words sound much gentler than usual. Warmer, more desperate.
"Because your voice will not leave my mind. Begging for me. Breaking for me," Viktor murmurs. He nudges his fingers against your walls, testing, teasing you. "Pleading my name."
Once more, he challenges your limits; his fingers slide into you deep, so deeply you can feel them everywhere. Nudging at your core, filling you perfectly. As if on queue, you whimper a broken plea of yes, and as your eyes flutter, you're cascading into a needy mess of pleasant, shaky gasps. You writhe, your pinned hands trembling, wishing for something to hold onto. Though, he keeps you in place underneath him, blissfully unrelenting.
"Say it," Viktor demands, "My name. Tell me who it is you need."
"Viktor," Your voice is light, clumsy and slurring slightly, but in the way you say his name, there's an unmistakable lilt of pure adoration. You need him, you need to feel him everywhere: his practiced touch, his soft skin, his steel-built anatomy. You want him to not have to leave you, to not need to choose between you and the Undercity's future.
You feel completely, utterly dizzy. You want so much. You want his hands, flesh or metal, to study every intricate inch of you. You want him to stop holding back, you need the both of you to make up for the stupid amount of time you've lost — "I- hhah- I want…"
With your eyes nearly shut, static and stars flickering at the edges of your vision, you hadn't noticed how close he'd become until Viktor's voice echoes warmly, right against the shell of your ear.
"You want me to fuck you?"
And holy shit, his tone is sultry, his accent is thick — you shiver so hard you're sure he's left feeling the aftershocks, your body still pressed up right against his, even through his layers of metal armor. Viktor doesn't stop the steady pace of his fingers, pumping and arching and working you so well. Nor does he quit speaking, simply because he knows this is what you want to hear. What you need to hear.
"You are insatiable," He scolds, although there's little emotion in his level tone. Just an obvious, already-known sense of acknowledgement. His voice is a thousand times more intense when it is curling directly into your ear; "You wish for me to render you even more weak than you currently are, so you can be shown exactly who you belong to? Oh, and how I'd fuck you. How I would take you. I would make a mess of you, I'm sure. You'd be begging to be given all of me. To be used by me."
It's merely theoretical, a set of fake promises and dirty words to put pleasant visualizations into your mind — calculated, like everything he pursues. And it works. Predictably, your entire body shudders with pure, forceful need. You pulse around his fingers, throbbing like a heartbeat. You sob, and try to twist to face him, although it's impossible, considering you're still tightly pinned beneath his figure.
You want to see his face, he figures, so Viktor shifts up. He re-puts himself in the center of your vision, and you glance towards him, eyes flickering across his face; your gaze on his is practically teary-eyed. Desperate and eager, you find ways to plead without words.
You want to let go. Of course you do — always forced to be strong, you need nothing more than to melt at the hands of the last person left in Zaun that you trust. Even if he is more machine than person. Even though he is not right for you.
For a moment all too brief, Viktor wonders what it would be like to push those boundaries. To truly have you, beneath his hands and in his heart, to feel you resounding beside him like the echoes of a rippling, rolling wave.
How would he take you? No, how would you want him?
He formulates a few possible outcomes. Perhaps you'd want him hard and desperately. You need to be put in your place, to feel him as close as he could possibly be while he molds you to his shape. You want to be obedient. A good little subject. You want to be called good, very, very good for him while he pounds you into the table, or maybe while he leans back, glowing, masked eyes focused solely on you, your hands gripping his armored shoulders so you can bounce on his lap however you'd like. The Machine Herald's perfect little pawn. He wagers with such filthy actions and words, he could make you even louder than this.
You'd be pinned underneath him, and instead of his fingers, he'd fill you with all of himself — carnal and raw. Warm and sweat-soaked. Yet still, your body pressed to his would be agonizingly tender.
Or maybe you'd want him in a different way. In a much softer way.
Tenderness has never been afforded to him, it's hardly a concept he knows, but perhaps it's what he once hoped for. With you, it's what he once pictured.
Every touch would be slow, delicate. Your hands interlocked. Bodies pressed together, galaxies against galaxies. So close, they could be mistaken for the same shape. He would learn you truly, and honestly. Warm and gentle, you would touch him soft enough to make him human again.
Your voice would beg for him, whispering sweet nothings into his ears, against his form. Useless, perfect declarations of love. Viktor shudders. He imagines your hands, pretty and delicate, brushing the space between his shoulder and his steel spine. Feeling his scarred skin, alighting fiery sensations he assumed he'd long since lost.
Compared to who he was before, he is much stronger. He must be strong, must be forged of grit and iron, he must not submit to worthless, human desires. But you make him oh-so weak.
He isn't supposed to be weak.
"Please," You're gasping. You are barely able to speak at this point, babbling sweetly between broken noises as he fucks you on his fingers; it's just enough to make you shut your eyes and imagine more. "Fuck- Vik- Oh, p-please…"
Splintering, throbbing with mechanical heat, his inner workings surge with a sublime abundance of molten, unbridled energy. Burning, it's burning him up from the inside, melting him down and making him fragile.
You've gone fuzzy beneath him — No, his vision is fuzzy. Your edges are blurred, your chest is heaving as his fingers barely leave you before pressing back in. His hand adjusts, allowing his thumb to brush your puffy clit on the next press in. When you whimper his name, as you've done countless times before, he swears he sees nothing but flickering, colorless static.
Burning and heightening and building, he must be malfunctioning, experiencing crucial gaps in his design. This shouldn't be happening. He should not feel, and this isn't feeling, but there is something building inside of him, something with your name on it.
No, no, your name is flickering through him, pounding against his mind like a drum, and he has to establish control. He has to fucking fix this.
He needs to be closer, so much closer. He needs you in an unexplainable, all encompassing way. In a way that shouldn't be occurring. He doesn't want anything, he can't experience the sensation of wanting because it isn't meant to exist.
Truthfully, he's past the point of no return, and you might be all that's left to hold him in place. Impossible. The only thing he's ever desired is progress, evolution. Improvement is what matters. Improving, fixing, augmenting.
You are going to be the death of him. He needs to be pressed against you, holding you, in you, examining your inner workings, guiding you to reach your true potential —
Something snaps.
"Do you know," Viktor grasps your face, roughly tilting you in his direction. The newfound harshness to his tone is exhilarating. "How impossible it is to resist breaking you?"
He laughs, the sound sharp, almost chilling; his smile is crooked, barely recognizable, showing off even more crooked teeth. His gaze holds your own until it practically burns into you. His body is hot. To the point of overheating. You feel the heated metal against your skin, pressing to your chest, your thighs, faint puffs of searing steam pouring out from gaps in the plating.
The grip his Hexclaw has on your wrists is so tight it nearly hurts. But it's faltering, his hands are twitching. He seems to recognize he might be hurting you, and so he lifts off of you slightly, he forces himself to loosen his hold.
There's a sound coming from him that echoes like grinding gears, like the hiss of burning filaments. Like something is crumbling. Fighting against itself.
"It is all I have ever known, milaya." Viktor lets go of something akin to a sigh, although he has no need to breathe. He is utterly ruined — the poor excuse for a heart he once placed between his ribs is aching, shuddering with the anticipation of a touch, soaring with the softness that comes with a kiss. Is this what it feels like to be dizzy, to be lovesick?
You shudder as his thumb rubs your clit, and he digs his metal fingers into your side, feeling the space just beneath your ribs. "You will soon understand," He murmurs, "And if you are incapable, I am still willing to teach you. To make you into so much more."
There's a stirring in his chest at that, at the thought of completing you; a deep-rooted abnormality he can't quite pinpoint. Is it excitement? Guilt? Lust?
You swallow. You're crumbling, as he sends tingles through your veins in the wake of more enthralling words.
"You are mine. Your fundamental place is at my side." Viktor senses the building heat of his inner workings, a deep wave rolling up from his constructed spine to settle onto the back of his neck. Building, burning, breaking. "I cannot wait to unmake you."
Pulling you apart would be delightful.
Your pieces would be disassembled, separated by each individual, pretty, dizzying section, so you could be redone carefully, gently, with a sense of tenderness only he could manage. He wants to understand you. To know exactly what makes you tick, down to your most basic of functions. To be close. Indistinguishable, the both of you made from the same materials. If you were constructed in his image, your components marked by his influence, there would be no doubt who you belong to.
Through breaking you and mending you, he wonders if he could find new ways to make you sing. You'd relax under each touch, shuddering and breathing his name as he completes your newfound enhancements. Gazes locking. Touches lingering. Metal soldering. Viktor trembles. Gods, how he wants you.
Furthering your potential and heightening your pleasure both require similar sentiments. Trust, and vulnerability. Opening your chest to watch your heart pound for him is the same as measuring your hitching breaths, growing heavier the deeper and faster he presses his fingers into you.
Because delicately pulling you apart just to put you back together is some metaphor for intimacy. Carving out a space for you within the confines of his fake heart is some synonym for tenderness. Holding onto his memories of you, replaying everything he can't quite forget to the point of near insanity — to the point where he attempted to forcibly remove you, by removing those emotions. Only to fail. Feeling these sensations for you when he shouldn't is some form of devotion.
You shouldn't feel for him either, right?
Having you there from the very beginning meant something; you were beside him when he only dreamed of becoming someone greater. When his ideas for evolution were just prototypes, when he first put the full extent of his weight onto both his legs. Didn't it mean the world to you too?
You were equally misunderstood. By your peers, by the world. Just as you believed in him, he saw light in you, from the very start. He thinks you could burn bright enough to melt anyone who stands in your way. And now, years down the line, when he is seen as less than human, you only see him. Not what he's become. It's infuriating. It's unmistakably loving.
You are panting. Getting close. Your bottom lip quivers, and your body tenses, each shudder more forceful than the last. His fingers echo a filthy, wet sound each time they pump into you, and your back is arching, you are simply begging to fall apart around him. For him, because of him. You deserve to.
And you sing, voice trembling like plucked strings, "Just p-please. You can do whatever you want to me, I trust you- I've always trusted you. Vik, I need you. I'm yours. All yours."
All his.
Whatever he turns into, whatever becomes of his body, memories, and heart, you would still follow. No matter what his goal might be; to destroy this city for what it did to the both of you, or to work in unison to try and remake it. Or perhaps, he plans to become more. An example of perfection. A God. As if he isn't one already.
The first time he touched you, when he felt the softness of your skin and heard the plea in your voice, and knew you were in his heart still, still, wasn't it akin to a prayer?
Oh, he is going to unravel you.
Viktor allows his grip on your wrists to finally, fully loosen; his Hexclaw presses flatly to the table, helping to support his weight. Relaxing, you exhale a deep breath, but you don't hesitate for long. Your arms waste no time wrapping around him, pulling him close. When you kiss him, a hand cradling his cheek like he is something breakable, and not a perfected piece of unstoppable machinery, the tender press of your lips to his feels undoubtedly inevitable.
All he knows is since the day he pretended to forget about you, when he decided to become something more, his new heart beat steadily, his enhanced mind was clear. But his systems wouldn't stop buzzing.
When he hardly knew where you were or what state you'd return to him in, the noise grew sharper. Fervently pulling, Hextech whirring, unsated electricity sizzling like fireworks underneath his skin. Having you in his arms once more only made the static form so thick, he thought his mental processes might completely go haywire. All he knows is that now, as he's kissing you, feeling your lips on his, your body against his own, and your hands tangling through his hair — for once, the static is silent. Blissfully silent.
And he kisses you, harder than before. Softer than anything and everything.
"Faster-" You're pleading brokenly against his mouth, between breathy kisses, your voice echoing through him, "More."
Faster, harder, more. Whatever you desire, he's going to give it to you. Viktor mumbles, "Of course."
Finally able to move, you hook one leg around his waist, you use it to drag him in even closer. You rock into his hand when his fingers spread and crook inside you, and you grab tight, messy fistfuls of his hair. His lips on yours, kissing you over and over, leave you little room to breathe.
Once you've pulled away, you're gasping for air, and his gaze fixates on yours: examining, devouring. Viktor takes note of your every movement. How you grind into his fingers when his thumb teases your clit, your bottom lip caught between your teeth, brows pinched. How you fall back against the table when the sensations overwhelm you, eyes shut and limbs weak. Pulsing and tensing around him, so sensitive. So close to falling apart.
Your arms wrap around him again, and he tries to keep the pace of his fingers steady, while you begin placing hurried kisses to his cheek, his neck. You kiss the side of his face, soft lips on soft skin. Then, your lips continue down, they press to his steel jaw. He tilts his head to let kisses fall over the expanse of metal that runs down his neck. Tingling phantom sensations curl into him and split him open.
"Close," You're muttering, so quiet he nearly doesn't hear. You hold him as tight as you can manage. Your breath is warm on the side of his face, tickling his skin, making him feel even warmer within.
"You are close?" He repeats for confirmation; his hand finds your side, and you grip his shoulders, hands brushing over thick plates of metal, desperately searching for something to hold onto. Your nails dig in, firm enough that he thinks the steel might chip. Viktor breathes a slight laugh, "You sound so sweet."
"So- I'm getting so-" You swear, "Oh, f-fuck…"
The only way he might quench what's come over him and steady his systems is by watching you come apart. Pleading his name, while you melt into a needy puddle of all the emotions and pleasant sensations he could never let himself have. Brought to your peak by his touch, his voice, because you are his, all his.
Viktor's free hand traces up, cool steel carefully finding your collarbone, your neck. Then, his fingers are wrapping around. He squeezes your throat just barely, just how you like, enough to make you fall back with your arms sprawled above you. Your head is perfectly dizzy, as his fingers work you steadily, his thumb flicking your needy clit much faster. Pushing you closer, closer.
Until it's far too much, and you are at his mercy, guided right to the edge of an exhilarating, electrifying precipice.
"Let go. I have you," Viktor instructs, "Let yourself submit."
Everything you've been building towards, all of his touches, all of this ecstasy, and how terribly you've missed him coalesces into this. Into a single, shuddering moment, waves upon waves of pleasure pushing you over the waterfall's edge. You're melting, cumming hard for him, your arms shaking, until he's removing his hand from your throat and giving you something to grab onto — delicate fingers laced with thick, strong, metal ones. Perfectly contrasting.
Your vision goes white. Your body tenses and then goes limp, like you've been shut down. The high is forceful, before it becomes soft, ebbing over you with gradual warmth, his hand in yours enough to steady you. Heart pounding, you take quick, loud breaths.
You can't help but feel disappointed when Viktor's hand releases yours to return to your waist. He holds you carefully, cold fingers brushing your skin reassuringly. Every touch feels deliciously raw, alight and sensitive.
Your eyes open slowly. Viktor's hair is a mess in his face, likely caused by you. He seems flushed, if only slightly. His unflinching gaze flickers across your form, before it settles back on your eyes.
"Breathe," He instructs carefully, gently. His hand grips your side a bit tighter; he's clearly affected by the way you sigh. You do your best to follow along, the aftershocks fading as your pulse slows, and as you start to calm.
"There. Excellent, you have done so well," Viktor praises. He smiles slightly in satisfaction. "You have never been this breathless."
Whatever words you could've formed in response don't come. They can't, not when his fingers are still inside you; not when Viktor is pressing them into your sensitive cunt just barely, squeezing your side as he delights in the way you whine. Pleasure, white-hot and familiar, surges through you fiercely.
It's so much, it's so much, it's too much, he's already fucking you with his fingers, and before you can fully wind down, you're swiftly building towards another high. Your body needs this. You just aren't sure if you can take it.
"Ah- shit," You murmur; reaching up, you tangle both hands in his hair, gripping tight for leverage. His expression remains infuriatingly calm. "I want- I need more. It feels so good, Vik," You're practically purring those last words, your whole body shuddering through another wave of ecstasy. "But I don't- I'm not sure if I-"
"You can." Viktor interrupts, assured and composed. "You can cum for me as many times as I dictate."
You're smirking now, obediently spreading your trembling thighs wide, while you roll your hips into his touch; his fingers are so thick, so impossibly, perfectly deep — "Hah- and you said I'm the insatiable one."
"Yes. You are the most insatiable human I have ever known. And it would seem you are particularly insatiable with me."
"You were once- Oh-"
Your head falls back as Viktor nudges that sweet, tender spot inside you, and your body becomes limp once more.
He takes the opportunity to bring the Hexarm's hand to your cheek. It's large enough to eclipse your face, the same way it was big and strong enough to easily pin both your wrists in its grasp. The heat radiating from the metal makes your eyes briefly flutter, before he trails it down to your throat. Perfectly responsive, your eyes grow heavy. He provides you with your favorite, much-needed pressure.
You've watched him use this very same hand to solder metal and create machinery. The device could heat to a temperature a thousand times hotter than it is now, it's capable of firing off a single ray of concentrated energy potent enough to slice through steel. And he has that hand wrapped right around your neck.
Fuck, that shouldn't excite you. It shouldn't have you quivering more and whimpering, shaking while you try your best to keep meeting his eyes, all because you so desperately want to hear him speak again. Praising you — You are doing so well for me, so pliant, so adorable. Or scolding you — Pathetic, aren't you? Quivering like a rabbit, and all it took was a little brush with danger. You are amusing.
Whichever he prefers. Because Viktor is so much stronger, so much smarter, and it hardly matters what he chooses to say, when any and all of it still gets you off.
Deep within your heart, you know he'd never hurt you. He would take away your pain if you asked it of him, so you wouldn't have to feel it again. His words can be sharp, simply because he wants to protect you. He wouldn't even attempt to put his hand on your throat like this if he didn't have complete, total control over the Hexclaw's laser. Carefully, he observes your every movement for any sign of discomfort, calculating and controlling each aspect of your pleasure — and it only serves to make your heart pound faster.
Of course, he can tell when you start to truly shake. He knows every inch of you is melting with overstimulation, and he's going to give you more.
"Take it. I know you are capable." His voice gives you goosebumps, while his fingers press into you shallowly, but the smallest movements are more than enough to make a mess of you. "There, perfect, you are performing excellently. Relax. Continue breathing deeply, nice and slow breaths. I will take care of you, love."
Love.
"Don't-" You choke, trying to keep your eyes on his despite the way your vision wavers and blurs; your reaction is immediate, predictable, and instantly satisfying. "Don't stop…"
You're beautiful like this, when you're underneath him. Since his enhancements, compared to his new body, you are now much smaller. He had to learn to adjust to the touches you need, to be gentle. Like you once were with him. Your roles, reversed in such a crucial way. You are undoubtedly strong in your own right, but when it comes to him, you are as sensitive as you are receptive. He needed to study how to keep from holding you too tightly, how to regulate his temperature to not burn your skin underneath his hands.
You are a pretty sculpture of quivering limbs and glistening skin. Your chest heaving, eyes fluttering. As beautiful as you were back then, before this. Before he lost the warmth he felt in his chest every time he saw you, before feelings on their own became mere faded memories. His iron consequence, locking away his dying love.
He gives you another. Three fingers press inside your dripping cunt, stretching you, filling you. A hand grips your side, his third lightly squeezing your throat — he works your pleasure for all it's worth, and has you gasping as he wrings out your aftershocks.
Viktor's mouth can't help but twitch into the slightest smile. "Look at you. You are worthy of the world."
He would give it all to you.
The Machine Herald will have this city in his hands. His vision is moving fast and accomplishing much, so it is only a matter of time. If you wanted more, he'd just have to reach even further. Relinquishing his human emotions left him without the need to be happy, nor content. But you, your happiness, keeping you safe, seeing you smile. It is stupid, foolish, doesn't make sense; his mechanics stutter, until he thinks he is choking on his own contradictory tenderness.
His body is betraying his mind. There is heat at his center, more than the normal amount emitted by his internal components. A very human, very filthy amount of heat. His skin underneath his armor is flushed and warm, his chest is aching from the weight of your heavy destruction. You are destroying him, and he can do nothing but allow it.
"I missed you," You murmur earnestly, voice weak, close to shattering. Your eyes are closed. Why, why are those words making his hands and his limbs and his heart shudder? "I missed you so bad- don't stop, keep fucking me Viktor- don't, please don't stop talking…"
Is that what you're imagining?
So he doesn't stop.
As you fall back against the table, Viktor removing the Hexclaw and letting go of your neck, he leans in to speak right against your ear. "I am proud of you, lubov. Infiltrating Piltover must not have been simple. You brought me more than I required, you did so with much efficiency. And you returned to me safely. Allow me to reward you. Fall apart for me, cum like I know you so desperately need to."
Your body curls, your hands move to his shoulders and grip them impossibly tight in an attempt to keep yourself steady. "Vik- Viktor-" You're gasping, you're close, "Kiss me, please kiss me-"
His hand holds your chin, the cool, rigid steel of his thumb swipes over your bottom lip; teasing you, making you whimper. Sliding further, into your mouth, until you're tasting the sharpness of metal. Until you're gently sucking, feeling the intricately crafted notches and joints on your tongue. When he pulls it out and kisses you hard, when his lips press to yours and your high-pitched moans become muffled on his mouth, you cum on his fingers hard enough to see the afterimage of stars.
He's trailing kisses down your jaw while you pulse around him, your thighs shaking, your head tilting to let his mouth find your throat. In the wake of his soft kisses, his foggy breath, you melt, and fully succumb to your shuddering high.
Working you back down is a slow, patient process. A kiss onto your neck for every gasp you take in, the feeling of gentle teeth once your body starts to fully relax. Everything you've wanted, everything you missed; far too tender for who he's become.
There are faint marks on your neck by the time he pulls away. Signs he was there. Proof he is softer than he is meant to be.
You could stop here. Instead, the next few moments happen in their own special space of reality.
Away from this city, away from his lab. A different plane made for just the two of you. Your mind feels dizzy, heavy. Viktor meets your gaze, momentarily scanning your face, waiting to make sure you've calmed.
He is all you can think of, all that has ever mattered. And even when he is right here, you miss him so, so much.
You tremble from the end of your spine to the top of your shoulders when he carefully pulls his fingers from you. He brushes his palm from your thigh to your side in one steady, soothing motion. You can feel the scars on his palm, the slight hesitant tremor to his still-slick fingers. You're reaching up, palm pressing to his chest. You absently feel the various ridges of metal. Smooth to the touch, armor radiating the faintest flickers of heat.
He glances down, watching your movement as your palm brushes further, further. Delicate fingertips trail the dips and outlines that continue down his stomach. Eventually, you reach as far as your arm will let you, your fingers drawing circles onto the rib-like sections of steel crossing just above his hips. As he glances back up to you, he finds your soft, pleading gaze to be already looking at him. As sweet as he's always remembered.
Your breathing is heavy. "Vik," You're begging, "We shouldn't- I'm sorry. This is stupid. I know we should stop, but…"
He is going to regret this.
Before he can stop himself, before his mind and his systems can even be led to form a single rational thought, Viktor is pressing the palm of his Hexarm just above your head, flat to the table. He is leaning over you, he is finding your cheek with a soft hand and a gentle touch. He's pulling you in, crashing his lips against yours, and he knows you're right — you shouldn't continue. He shouldn't allow this.
Machines do not feel. The Machine Herald feels nothing, and wants for nothing besides evolution. But Gods, you're kissing him like his lips are a drug, all you need after wanting to kiss him for so, so long. Since before you both became dim shells of what you once were. Your legs are wrapping around him, your fingers are brushing his face with such devastating tenderness, and Viktor believes he is feeling everything.
He's reaching down between your gasps for breath that make gaps in your kisses, and he's deftly activating a set of small, circular mechanisms on either of his sides. The armor on his chest unlatches with a clicking noise, platings becoming loose, unaligned.
The larger, more cumbersome sections of his armor, including his gauntlets, cape, and shoulder pieces have been discarded from the start, making the portion of chest armor come off as two simple halves. He has to pull away, sit up straight, and partially slide off of you to remove it all the way. Both pieces of armor hit the ground with a particularly heavy thud.
Most of his body has been replaced. Underneath the metal armor, there's just more metal; sections of iron that've been fused to replace muscle and skin, alloyed parts that reinforce his thin frame.
You have only seen him like this once. He was fixing some miscalibrated platings on his side, a wrench in one hand, the Hexclaw's laser busy welding a suitable replacement. Two thirds machine, and one part still human, he was definitely much different from what you remembered. Still, there were small sections of pale skin on his back, split where his spine had been reconstructed. And jagged scars, adorned by faint, dark moles. His messy hair still falls around his face just like you remember it.
You wanted to touch — he says he can't feel, but would he sense your fingertips as they traced his scars, would he shudder as your hands felt his skin? If you kissed what remained of him, his hand and each of his fingers, his back and each of those pretty moles, his chest down to his stomach, could you alight new sensations in him?
You've never wanted to touch him more than in this moment.
The bottom portion of his armor comes off much easier, leaving just the thick sections that cover his thighs down to his legs, including the steel brace mechanism. You're only able to catch the faintest glimpse, before he's pulling you into another deep kiss — a kiss that burns with every moment lost, his body pressing you against the table and beneath him. Your arms wrap around him, palms trailing across his back.
As they've always longed for, your fingertips feel the back of his neck: the ridges and hard edges of his spine, the solid base of the Hexarm, his soft skin. Viktor physically shudders. When one of your hands tangles in his hair while the other falls, landing upturned beside you, he kisses you harder, he absently finds your hand and holds it in his. Your fingers lace together. His hand feels so warm, still slightly larger than yours. His skin is scarred, your thumb brushing over calloused knuckles and thin, purple veins. Every touch is so tender, earnest, human, it's nearly unbearable. Your hand was meant to be in his. Even if it won't last.
It's a strange sensation, when his body presses ever closer to your own. Metal leads down from his navel, across to his pelvis, trailing underneath the armor on his thighs as one smooth, solid construction. Partially welded into his skin, but seemingly designed to make some sections removable. It is warm like the rest of him, designed with faint ridges and indents.
Your legs, locked around him at the ankles, encourage him to press ever-closer. He devours you, kissing you deeper than you thought possible. You sigh against his mouth, and hold on tightly to his hair. His body rocks against yours in an instinctual, clumsy motion. Close, pressing, grinding. Warm metal and those perfect little ridges grind between your legs, against your core, against your clit. And you practically jolt.
Oh. You break away from the kiss to toss your head back with a breathy, pretty noise. Pleasure threads through you, thick and unrelenting.
Viktor mumbles something that barely registers in your ringing ears: Should stop, you manage to make out. And then, Are you alright?
"Yes, I just-" You mumble, panting hard, "Don't. Don't stop."
So Viktor grasps your waist in a tight, yet careful grip. His eyes never leave yours, gaze burning with a fire you've never once seen. He guides you to press against him, grinds his body against yours until you're making a mess of the metal. Until the faint ridges are nudging your swollen clit just right, until the heat of the iron is burning through you, into you, and your slick arousal is glistening on the steel.
Your mind and heart are racing.
"Oh, fuck-" You're swearing, your words surely seeming broken; he finds your cheek, he tilts your head up towards him, and you can't decide if the gesture is tender, or possessive. "I need you, I really, really do."
His body feels as though he just touched the surface of the sun, and Viktor hardly knows if the warmth is coming from his overloaded systems, or if it's surrounding him, heat drawn thickly from the friction between the two of you. Perhaps it's a mix of both.
Either way, he is losing himself. It's all happening so terribly fast; when his body rolls against yours, and you whimper through a filthy utterance of his name, there is a clear, undeniable response. A tingling in his veins, an eager sensation that shoots from his back to his chest to his core, consuming everything like a wildfire, and threatening to envelop all of him.
He doesn't even know what to do with this. How to silence these disruptions, how to get his stupid brain to stop picturing you shuddering beneath his form as he presses against you, presses inside you, and brands every inch of you with his own name —
"Milaya," Viktor hums, and you swear, his tone sounds lighter, his voice sounds strained. "I have always needed you. I'm not- No, I want- I shouldn't…"
Trailing off when you cry out, he swallows. His thumb brushes your bottom lip as he continues to guide you towards him. Sweat beads on your chest, your thighs. He instructs, partially shakily, "Keep looking at me. Please."
You've rarely heard him stutter or falter, never seen him anywhere close to worked up. You hardly knew if he had the capacity to feel this way, even though he certainly wasn't built to, even though he definitely isn't supposed to. And isn't it all because of you?
The way your gaze locks with his as he rhythmically rocks against you has your heart skipping beats. There's a slight softness to his cold eyes, to his expression, that you're sure no-one else has seen before. Not since back then. You are impossible to resist, and this definitely needs to stop, this is definitely too far — it's going even further when your hand reaches down, fingertips clumsily tracing the edges of the metal seared into his navel.
He knows what you want. You're greedy, a glutton for punishment, a sweet, terrible fool. But if he's honest with himself, perhaps he is worse. You are pleading his name again, the sound echoing unendingly in his ears, and Viktor is removing the front-most section of the metal enhancement: a thin plate that forms a triangular shape from his hips, all the way down.
When he presses against your form, the next sensation to bleed into you is much different. It's smooth, soft latex, shoving against you. The last layer remaining between you and him and —
And you can feel him. Straining hard and heavy against his underclothes. Firm and warm as he rocks into you, grinding all of him onto your throbbing cunt. You aren't thinking, you can't think anymore. Not when Viktor is hard, and when your heartbeat is so damn loud in your ears, you couldn't possibly hear anything else.
"Viktor," You're murmuring, your chest pleasantly aching. Pleasure welds with emotion, walking the same shaky line, until your heart is unfurling with delicate petals that fill your throat sweetly, consuming you wholeheartedly, "I love you."
If Viktor's mechanized heart was still capable of faltering from its pre-programmed rhythm, he's sure it would be fucking pounding.
Every part of him is set alight. Burning, he feels smoke in his throat, and swears he tastes fire. He's overloading, practically overheating, like a fragile body trembling with need and want, like a system with too many programs open at once — and oh Gods, it just keeps opening more. His vision has long since gone blurry, and every sound in his ears is thick, as though he's been submerged in deep water.
How long have you wanted to say those words? He thinks of quiet days spent with you in Piltover, the lingering glances and faint touches he tried his hardest to forget.
How long has he needed to hear you say them?
Honestly, he could cry, if he was at all still capable of crying. His mind is a mess. Heat is threading through his circuits, devotion and desire, a terrible softness; he's so soft inside, it hurts. It actually hurts, and he believed he taught himself how to forgo any pain.
Electricity and faulty Hextech sizzle in his core, radiating, echoing. His damn foolish, worthless, synthetic heart. He needs to hold you, fuck you, break you. To encode this sensation into his head and his blood, because forgetting the way your voice strummed those words would be worse than admitting he is too weak to discard them.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
He doesn't deserve this. He was not built to love. Love should be thrown out, along with everything else. Love is a weakness. You may be fine with placing your heart on railway tracks, you might not think twice before putting yourself in danger, but if anything were to happen to you, he might be entirely consumed.
With his mechanized existence, he could soon become immortal. This longing would surely stick with him after you're gone, an eternity of something he could never understand. Swallowing him whole, holding onto him tight. Endlessly painful. But right now, when he is here and stuck in a dream at the same time, when he is more of himself than he has ever been, and you are all that exists in his veins, could he ever manage to stop?
You are so close to so much more. So close to ruining everything — just one last layer, one more touch. One movement, one press of his palms to your figure before he slides into you, one last massive, unfixable mistake.
"Vik, please, please, I'm-" You can barely hold on anymore, as much as you've been trying to. You curl into him, grinding back against him hard; "I can't, I can't fucking- hhah- I'm so close-"
Your bodies rock together desperately, beckoning and wanting more of what they shouldn't have. His heat radiates into your skin, and your breath fills the air in thick, heavy huffs. You're still so wet, and it makes every movement slick and simple. Your hands feel his back, his shoulders, his steel jaw, his face. Anywhere you can touch, you're making the most of it.
Viktor finds your chin, he holds it delicately, and when he says your name, it feels personal; devastatingly so. Like he could make a home with the familiarity laced through each syllable. He breathes them like he did back then, coveting you so deeply. Muttering it as one final plea.
If he can't fix this, perhaps you can reconstruct this part of him. Could you show him how to live again, could you instruct his mechanized heart, and finally teach it how to skip?
"I have you," Viktor sighs, because he's sure you want to hear his words as much as he needs to say them. He doesn't require a working heart, when he can let all of himself echo through his still-human soul. "I love you."
Your chest bruises with sparks in the wake of his gentle voice. Still somewhat robotic. Spoken as though each individual, inevitable word is one he is learning to speak. I. Love. You.
Your legs and arms wrap around him, holding him as close to you as he could possibly get. Exhaling shakily, your whines are broken, your nails digging into his back. They'll leave red marks onto his pale skin; he hopes they do. His chest is pressed right up to yours. Viktor allows his forehead to rest just barely against your own, utterly tender, and he melts, as your thudding heartbeat echoes through him. Body to body, scarred skin on softer skin. Delicate limbs held around a partial chassis of firm, strong metal.
Helpless. Perhaps for you, he is the helpless one.
It doesn't matter; everything is crumbling away, and the both of you are thrown right back into reality, because you are falling apart for him at last. One last time.
You shake, liquid hot pleasure drips over you like burning wax, and you're left at the mercy of your blistering, final high. Another few deep grinds into each other are all you need — the both of you throbbing, his jaw tensing, Hexclaw twitching, stiffening, and radiating a powerful amount of heat. His eyes flutter, the artificial glow behind them flickering like a dying lightbulb. You hold onto him tighter, and he lets go of a slight noise. A quiet, shaky, all too desperate moan.
You stay rocking against one another even while you're cumming, even after your voice is sore from chanting Viktor's name so loudly, you briefly worry that anyone just outside of his lab might've heard you.
Finally stopping, you only begin to relax once your whole body is entirely spent.
You breathe slowly. In, and then out. Deep, calming breaths. Your heart pounds with force. The room refocuses around you, the harsh light of his various lamps burning into the back of your eyelids and making you see colorful spots. Viktor waits a few moments, before he shakily pushes up to prop himself above you.
There's a hum of ambient, grinding metal coming from him. The hiss of steam. The echo of small shudders, and forceful gasps. Your vision is still fuzzy, your limbs incredibly weak, but you notice when he reaches for something; the thin metal plating, which he secures back onto himself.
Once your eyes are completely clear and your heart is beating to a normal tune, you're finally able to focus on him above you. In barely any time, with a half-machine's perfected efficiency, Viktor has already regained every last aspect of his composure.
"Stay. You require rest," He instructs matter-of-factly, his tone filled with his usual sternness. His gaze scans you up and down methodically. "I will supply you with a change of clothes."
Right. Viktor's heart can't shudder like yours. Soft sensations have no need to linger. You'd almost forgotten. This is what you were always bound to return to: you, an ally. And he is just a machine.
Through heavy, lovesick eyes, you admire the sight of him above you. His thin figure, enthralled in shadow, light reflecting off of the metal sections of his outline. He runs a hand through his hair to push it from his face, a gesture you find particularly endearing and human.
"Oh, don't worry," You hum casually, stretching your arms and legs out. Your voice is light, foggy and still weak. The table beneath you feels firm against your back, but with how lightweight your whole body feels, you couldn't care less. "I don't think I'm moving even if I wanted to."
Viktor raises a brow just slightly. He taps your neck with a single smooth, metal finger. "And something needs to be done about these."
Briefly, your expression shifts into confusion. You tilt your head, allowing his fingers to trail further, and they examine the base of your neck down to your collarbones; the marks he left on your skin are swiftly darkening, forming blotchy, pretty bruises.
Realizing what he's getting at, you smile smugly. "Worried someone's gonna ask questions?"
"Half of Zaun acknowledges you as my right hand. I am not worried. But they will ask. It could prove arduous." Viktor explains, his tone exceedingly controlled. "Come. Hold onto me."
When you don't immediately move, he stares at you expectantly. So, despite your tiredness, you listen, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his middle loosely. Viktor lifts you with ease. His heavy boots clunk with each step, and he carries you just a few paces from the table, setting you down on your back, and onto the familiar, ripped-up leather couch. It shifts, accommodating your weight and his. Compared to the worktable, when your back hits the soft yet worn cushions, you feel like you're resting on clouds.
Viktor shifts, starting to move away, but you keep your arms wrapped around him, and speak before he has the chance.
"Vik…" You're purring, "Stay here."
A brief look of contemplation crosses his face, categorized by the slightest pinch in his thick brows. You smile, and nearly wind up kissing him again. He doesn't attempt to pull apart from you when you drag him closer to yourself, your lips gently brushing his cheek.
At first, he's overly stiff. His arm fits underneath your back to hold you out of mere obligation. In contrast, his metal arm is kept beside you, refusing to touch, steel-jointed fingers flexing absently. But once your hands trail up, your fingers tracing the back of his neck, before they run through his hair, he honestly, earnestly relaxes.
Your body underneath him is comforting. Limbs entangled, your legs brushing steel and the rigid metal brace. His head leans gently into the crook of your neck, almost hesitantly, as though he isn't entirely sure where to place it. He can't help but fall against you, bodies pressed into one another naturally enough to form the same grave. If he ever came face to face with death, he would refuse to accept it, unless it was just like this.
You let your tired eyes close. You allow yourself to focus on his warmth, on the weight of him, and you can almost pretend this is natural. That you are in the past, or perhaps residing in a much different future. You are both lovers, as you wished you would be; simple and uncomplicated, nothing more, resting together in the dizzying comfort of your afterglow.
It'd be nice. Nicer than anything you've been afforded. The only problem is Viktor is all firm steel and hard edges. His metal hand shifts to hold your side, and his fingers are digging into your skin, gripping a bit too tight. His weight on yours is making it damn near difficult to breathe. And right now, he is very, very hot.
You frown, your eyes fluttering open again. "You're overheating."
"My internal temperature is regulated by a liquid cooling apparatus," Viktor murmurs, after a moment. "It seems to be malfunctioning."
His voice is smooth, as it always is, but it sounds much warmer, much quieter, when it's spoken this close to your ear. You sigh softly, and shuffle a little under him, trying to get more comfortable.
"Ah. That sounds concerning."
"The device will adjust itself in time," Viktor clarifies. "If it does not, repairs will take a few minutes, at most."
Your fingertips brush over his back. They feel the thick ridges of his spine, and the thin steel shape of the Hexclaw's base. It feels cool and lifeless under your palm. "This is cold, though."
"It is inoperational. It stopped responding, I will need to reset it individually."
"That so?" You huff in response, laughing a little. You hold onto him tighter, and lean your head into his shoulder. "Whatever. Just don't let go of me."
He doesn't. You exhale a long, weak breath. Your hands tremble slightly, as they uselessly grip onto the sections of cold steel that frame his shoulders. Viktor stays perfectly still, and he allows you to hold onto him as tightly as you need to. This might be the last moment you'll have together. For a while, at least. He has much to attend to, after this. Some tasks he can work on at your side, with your assistance, preferably. Some missions he must complete alone.
The next time you speak, your voice is so fragile, he thinks he should be holding it in his palms. Or else it'll break.
"We shouldn't- or, I guess I shouldn't have said… you know." You shudder, shaking all over before you tense. You're holding him too close to allow him to see your face, but he can picture your expression: slightly playful, to attempt to hide your uncertainty. "Gods, I'm so stupid. But I meant it. And I just-" You laugh, "I'm sorry, Viktor. Maybe you were right. I've been way too reckless."
Viktor has no need to ponder his answer. "I know. Don't apologize. You should be resting, our conversation can continue tomorrow."
You breathe deeply, and he quietly murmurs, his voice echoing through your ears, "I love you, milaya."
Fake. Expected. A ghost of choked-back emotions, of all-too tender moments already slated to become forgotten memories. But something is there, something that tells you he's trying. For now, you'll take it. It's more than enough.
You are close to falling asleep; every one of your nerves, washed over by warm, inviting waves, enveloped in his persistent heat. As though he can sense your building exhaustion, Viktor rubs your back with slow, reassuring circles — as best he can manage, considering your shapes are pinned too close together. Your breathing evens out, and you relax into his touch. Your mind feels as heavy as your weary, weak limbs.
Your love would be soft, he considers, distracted. Gentleness personified, warm like your smile, like the radiant sun shining down on one's skin. Patient and alighting. Like being pulled by the wrists, wrested out of a rocky, dark sea — finally alive, and finally able to breathe. The still-human part of him feels in measures of softness. The mechanical part is much, much different.
Heat is running through his veins. It's racing through his system, and he knows it isn't from any sort of malfunction. It burns. The taste of it is like sharp blood on his tongue, it spins in his head like the dizzy grinding of gears, sears through him with fraying wires and sizzling static. Pain and softness, forming a mix he might certainly call love, but might also swear to remove.
There's a certain sharpness gnawing at him. A flickering, raw bruise, brutalizing him from between his ribs, regardless of his attempts to try and ignore it. Your efforts are failing. You are feeling, and that means you have failed. Even dying embers burn out the same as raging flames.
You've drifted off, it would seem, your breathing slow, your body limp. So Viktor holds you just a bit tighter.
For once, for the first time since he truly decided who he wanted to be and what he wanted to accomplish, he is lost.
In the end, he is going to have to make a decision. One that will benefit his vision. Or one that will destroy him from the inside out. He must carve out these distractions, remove the sections of his heart that are faulty, or he must learn what it would mean to embrace them.
It scares him, truly. Viktor, the Machine Herald, genuinely scared over something meant to be so trivial. Fretting over the one person he never wanted to lose, even though he was sure he'd already lost you. He wonders what his opposition would say, what those who view him as soulless might think, if they knew the truth. And if you knew?
Just having to tell you, forcing himself to push you away, or coming face to face once more after he's altered his brain to completely forget you — No, the thought alone might be enough to seal his fate.
He'll make up his mind before you wake. His head will become clearer, eventually. When your voice is gone from his ears, when your phantom touches tracing his skin have finally disappeared. Besides, this moment won't last, and he wants to savor what's left of it.
Whatever happens next, wherever he takes this, he knows you will follow — to a different path, to a better future. Or to the ends of the earth.
a/n: I got kinda carried away with the plot a little, oh well lol
tags: Reiner Braun x F!reader, blood play, vampire!Reiner, no set universe, mentions of blood, cowgirl position, teasing, feeding, possessive!Reiner, pathetic!Reiner, smut
Kinktober day 8: blood play for anon
He was here tonight. Your favorite client.
The night had been slow, not unusually slow but slow enough for you to spend most of your shift chatting with the bartender.
He spotted you and you smiled, waving him over. Your client was different from the others, a true gentleman in a place where men think the rules of society don't apply here. Everyone else who worked with you seethed with jealousy when he came, because he never wanted to see anyone but you. Some have tried, and they all failed.
"What can I get for you man?" The bartender, Conny asked when your client approached, already grabbing a glass.
"Nothing at the moment." His deep almost apologetic voice answered and Conny shrugged, putting the glass away.
"Not even a Bloody Mary?" Nudging his arm with your elbow and laughing under your breath, seeing the red flush come to his cheeks under the neon lights. Reiner cleared his throat, shaking his head.
"If you change your mind, let me know." And Conny left you two alone to serve the others that were seated at the bar. Your client didn't take a seat like you expected him too, standing beside your chair and looking around. You knew why he came here and easily could've just taken him back to one of the private rooms to give him what he wanted, but you liked to hear him say it.
"How busy are you?" Abruptly leaning down to whisper in your ear, bristling the hairs on the back of your neck.
Taking an extended sip of the drink you'd been nursing, you pretended to ponder. You hadn't been busy all night, which meant he would have you all to himself.
"Pretty busy."
He snorted and grabbed the back of your chair, spinning it to face him, sending a thrill up your spine.
"How much? I'll cover what you'll make with your other clients tonight."
This was the gentlemanness you enjoyed about him, or maybe possessiveness was a better word. Anyone else in your spot would've lied and came up with an outrageous number, but it didn't feel right, Reiner wasn't scummy like the others that passed through those doors.
"I was kidding. I'm not busy at all." Running a hand up his arm, the threads of his expensive suit jacket gliding against your palm. "The suite room is free tonight."
"Had a feeling I was coming?" Flashing a smile, moving in closer, getting a small whiff of iron on his breath.
"No." Giggling, reaching out to cup his chin, closing even more of the little distance between you two. "But no one with deep enough pockets has dropped in tonight, so it's not booked out."
"How convient." Moving back and straightening himself. "Why don't you meet me up there then, I'll book it out for the rest of the night."
Reiner stepped back and shot you a wink, another thrill running up your spine at the prospect of how the rest of your evening would go. Slurping down the rest of your drink, you maneuvered your way to the back where all the private rooms were. This line of work had its benefits and downsides, but you made good money, enough to never need the support of a man again.
The elevator at the end of the hall beckoned you, pressing the button and slipping inside. You'd taken the liberty of grabbing one of your more scandalous lingerie to change into, knowing Reiner would appreciate it.
Inside, you quickly pulled the drapes closed, questioning the thought process in putting windows in a room like this but understood at the same time. He'd be up here soon, so you stripped out of your "decent" lingerie, setting it on the armchair pushed to the wall and pulled the black and red lace over your body. Nothing was left to the imagination, accentuating all the right features and boosting your confidence.
Sitting on the edge of the bed with your legs crossed, Reiner slipped through the door, locking it behind him. His suit jacket was the first thing he shed, setting it on the same armchair and approaching you while he rolled his sleeves up. To this day you wondered if he bought his shirts a size smaller, his muscles bulging through the fabric and straining the threads. But you liked the look it gave him, slightly intimidating and like he could toss any one of any size twenty feet.
"You changed?"
"Mhm, just for you." Reaching for his belt and slowly undoing it, watching the way he took long deep breaths, the anticipation building for both of you. "You always liked this one."
Reiner hummed his agreement, standing perfectly still as your delicate hands further undressed him, untucking his pristine button up and working the buttons free.
Standing to push the shirt off of his shoulders once all the buttons were free, you let it fall to his feet as you caressed his shoulders, gliding down his arms again and brushing over his ribs. He shuttered and grabbed you at the waist, pulling you into him.
"Been thinking about you." Hushing as he pushed you back onto the bed, letting his legs slip out of his trousers.
"You always say that when you come see me." Scooting up the mattress and throwing your arms around his shoulders, moving your legs apart to accommodate the width of his body.
"Because it's true, wish you'd take me up on that offer." Ghosting his lips along your jaw, an icy tension of what you knew he could so easily do making you all the more excited.
"I'm still considering it." And that was the partial truth. Reiner has been coming to see you for a little over a year now, and when he presented the offer of giving you a long life where you'd never have to worry about money again, you almost took it right away. And maybe you should've, but there were some things in life you wanted to enjoy still and thankfully he understood. But the man was obviously wrapped around your finger, pathetic when it came to you and his offer wouldn't change that.
"There's no rush." Lightly kissing down your neck quicker than he did your jaw, moving to your collarbone to avoid the temptation. His fangs couldn't be felt along your skin, allowing you to assume his hunger wasn't present tonight.
Continuous light airy kisses were pecked to your body over the lace, holding you so delicately despite his animalistic nature that couldn't easily be subdued, but Reiner had perfected that part of him, just for you.
For a time, he lavished your body in kisses, worshipping you and making your decision to not take anymore clients like him worth it. Reiner didn't know that, and you didn't want him to know in fear the slight possessiveness towards you would vanish.
"What do you want?" Asking when he was nearly down between your legs, pulling the lace over your stomach with his teeth, feeling the slightly poke from his fangs that had now made an appearance.
"You." Chuckling obviously, moving to kiss below your naval, your hand tightening in his hair pulling him away.
"I know that." Motioning for him to return, throwing your arms around his neck when he was face to face with you once more. "But I think you understand the double implication of my question. So do you want me or do you want all of me?"
A soft moan graced your ears, his golden eyes fluttering at the mere thought, a pang of arousal shooting through you.
"All of you." Came his hushed reply.
Smiling like a victor, you pulled him down for a kiss, slipping your tongue to trace wherever it pleases, moving over the fangs that refused to be hidden any longer. Reiner moaned into your mouth, slipping a hand under your back and bringing you to press against his cold skin. The arms thrown around his neck moved to push the hem of his briefs away, Reiner taking care of the rest, leaving you the only one with some sort of clothing on.
Using his distraction of devouring your lips, you hooked a leg over his and flipped the two of you, straddling his stomach. Reiner looked up at you with desperation and hunger, his remaining human like willpower preventing him from pining you to the bed and taking as much as he wanted.
Large but gentle hands held you at the hips, eyes dilating as he admired the view on top of him, entranced for a number of reasons. It was so easy to turn him into putty, have him whining and begging for what he wants, allowing you to hold control when he very easily could overpower you. Everything was left in your hands when he came to visit, never once demanding to be in your spot, always handing himself over like a willing victim.
Reaching for his hand, examining his fingers, taking notice of how his natural claw like nails weren't present, you enticed Reiner by running his finger over your inner arm. There his resistance wavered even more, sucking through his teeth and watching you with perfect attention. Using his vampiric powers, the stubbed short nails turn long and point, sharp enough to nick yourself, gathering the blood on the pad of your finger and bringing it to him so he could have a taste.
A long needy moan echoed in your ears as he laved your finger, a deep shudder running through his body at the taste that belonged solely to you.
"How long?"
And he knew what you meant, taking your hand and curling it into his own, leaving a delicate kiss on your knuckles.
"Four days." Rasping back, shielding his talons so he could run his fingers up and down your spine.
"Who?"
Arching against him, shifting your ass to subtly grind against his cock now pressed between your bodies, smiling at how he was hard and aching already. Reiner laughed through his nose at the question.
"No one."
"But you said it's been four days?" Stumped at how he'd kept his hunger at bay if some poor innocent unsuspecting person hadn't mysteriously gone missing. You'd asked him this before, and in the past Reiner would either say someone he had a vendetta against or not answer at all. Someone like him couldn't survive long without blood and if he wasn't terrorizing the streets like you assumed he did, how was he staying alive?
"I did." Kissing over the spot below your wrist where you nicked yourself, cleaning up the small bit of blood around it. "But it's not how you think."
You felt toyed with, frowning in disapproval and moving down to sit right over his cock, giving a little grind and watching his brows pinch together.
"Then how?" Running your hands over your body to tease him, letting one strap over your shoulder fall loose.
"I pose as a hematologist at the blood bank,"
"But I thought you ran the syndicate in this area? How do you?"
Reiner silenced you with a thumb to the center of your lips, chuckling deeply. "Cloning and my position gives me free time to get my fill. I don't hunt anymore, not since I met you."
Hips raised off the bed to grind into you, moving against the fabric of your lace right up against your clit.
"Why? And you didn't tell me you could do that?" Scraping your nails down his chest, bright red marks blooming on his pale skin, loving how he contorts against your action, making your own resistance waver.
"The person who turned me possessed unusual abilities, passing them onto me through the turning. And I can't explain why truthfully, other than I don't have the urge, not when I know I'll get to see you."
As sweet as that sounded, you thought about how that might change if you accepted his offer, spent eternity with him. Vampires don't feed on their own, and you can't imagine the blood from the same kind would be the same as the blood from humans.
"And what happens if I accept your offer?" Cautiously pressing, wondering if he possessed the urge to turn others for no other reason than because he could. Would Reiner be done with you once you turned? He kept coming back because in his words your blood was 'sweet and smooth'. All of these questions ran through your head sitting on his lap, trying to hide the emotions of your gut turning in on itself. You liked Reiner, affectionately that is and didn't want to give up the life you had just because a man manipulated you enough. He must've noticed, sitting up and cupping the side of your face, bringing you in for a sweet kiss.
"If you think I'd find someone else, you're wrong sweetheart." Pecking your lips once more and searching your eyes for the reassurance he wanted to convey. Reiner understood the new sudden hesitations. He never pressured you and never wanted too, but he didn't want to give the impression that once you accepted his offer to turn, he'd abandon you. No, Reiner was in love with you and even if you may not have felt the same, that didn't change his feelings.
"I only gave you that offer because in all my years of living, no woman has left me so enamored, I can't bear the thought of losing you to your own mortality." Kissing your cheek and coaxing you to look at him. Reiner knew your past, knew the distain you held for men and he understood that, but he was no man.
"So if I accept."
"Then I keep my job as a Hematologist."
Both of you snorted, but you knew he was being serious and you hated how for a second you doubted him. Conveying your feelings for him further with another slow kiss, you reached around for the knife kept in the bedside table. Typically left there in case one of the other girls needed to act in self defense, you used it for other reasons.
To distracted by the kiss to notice what you were reaching for, Reiner allows his talon like nails to come forth again, snagging the around the small of your back and easily making a hole. He tore at it further with his hand until he felt your pussy against his shaft, grinding against you even more. He'd been patient, but he needed to be inside of you, hoping to have enticed you enough.
"Oh Reiner." Laughing into his lips when you felt the warm throbbing of his cock against your pussy, breaking the kiss and clicking your tongue disapprovingly. The grinding from you didn't stop and that only made him whine under his breath and grip your thighs.
"Sorry I-"
"Desperate are we?" Showcasing the knife and dragging the unsharpened side along your arm, teasing him. Reiner growled and dug his finger into your fleshy thighs, his resistance could be felt just from sitting on top of him.
"Yea, just want to be inside you while I taste you."
"I know you do." Switching the angle of the knife and making the tiniest of cuts, bringing it to his lips and stopping your movements. Reiner whined and cursed under his breath, cleaning the tiny trickle of blood and laving at the cut for more. Torturing him like this would only result in the soreness between your legs in the morning and the reminder of how it felt.
Sharp points soon grazed below your wrist, nervous anticipation coming in ripples as you watched. Since you were no long grinding down on him, Reiner took matters into his own hands, sliding his cock against your cunt, teasing your clit as he kissed and dragged his mouth up and down your arm.
"Please." Muttering and looking up at you, wetting his bottom lip and letting the grasp around your arm turn loose. Contemplating for a moment, conjuring up a way to give him only a little of what he wanted, you brought your arm to his lips again.
"Bite." Giving a single command and seeing the slight disappointment flash in his eyes. It'll be worth it for him in the end.
Reiner complied and sunk his long fangs into your flesh, creating two deep holes that oozed the dark red liquid down your arm. The pain was barely there for you at this point, so it was only a few seconds later before you had him doing the same to the other arm. Dark streams of blood ran down your arms and dripped onto his stomach, moving your arm over his mouth and letting it drip onto his tongue. Reiner grasped at your ass as he desperately slid through your cunt, teasing your clit with the blunt head of his cock.
As he took what you offered him, the hands grasping and kneading the flesh of your ass moved to caress your back, instantly tearing the lace of your lingerie in half, pulling it off of your body. Chuckling and moving around so he could take it all the way off, you brought your arms that still dripped of blood to hover over your chest, watching how your skin became a canvas and an enticing platter for Reiner to clean.
Louder he groaned, fixing his eyes on the streams of blood running down the valley of your breasts and continuing down your stomach. You were so arousing in only a way he'd find, holding you at the hips again and pressing you against his cock, wishing he could just slip inside and gather all the mess you made as he fucked you boneless.
"Better not let it dry." Came your teasing voice, licking over the spot where he bit under your wrist and smearing it over your top and bottom lip.
A switch flipped inside Reiner, moving to sit up and wrap his arms around your middle, dragging his tongue all the way up from your stomach to your sternum, cleaning the mess you had made. He met you in a kiss then, tracing his tongue over your top and bottom lip, moaning at getting to taste you again. You were struggling to keep the facade with the way his cock teased and nearly slipping inside of you a few times, wanting him inside you just as badly now.
Tangling your hand into the back of his hair, you raised your hips and brought your arm to his mouth again. Reiner sunk into your flesh and fed as you nudged the tip of his cock at your entrance. He didn't feed for long, coming off to focus on helping you take all of him with the gentle hand on the small of your back.
"Fuck sweetheart" Cooing as he reclined back into the pillows slowly, cleaning his fangs with his tongue as he groaned watching you.
His size was always a bit overwhelming, so thick it took you longer to seat yourself all the way, but it never failed at feeling good. His brows were pinched again, looking pitiful with just the tip inside you. There was something so arousing the power you had over him right now, how he begged and pleaded despite looking like he could tear your head off in one bite. And it was all because of you.
"No matter how long it's been, it'll always feel just as good." Boosting his ego, leveraging yourself with hands on his thighs, arching into the air as you descended down his cock. Reiner pierced the skin of your hips from how hard he was gripping, not phased at all, in fact, the slight sting of pain made you clench around him.
Falling forward onto his chest when you were halfway down, you held the side of his face and kissed him softly, giving a little bounce on his cock. He gasped in surprise, grabbing fistfuls of your ass with his hands but not moving you himself.
"Take as much as you want from me, I'm yours." The last part of your statement caught him off guard, always saying the first part but never confessing that you were his out loud. Reiner smiled and left another kiss on your lips, soon tracing down the side of your neck and scraping his fangs over your collarbone, sinking into you once more.
Slamming yourself down all the way, you moaned at how easily he kissed your cervix, bouncing yourself on his cock as he drank as much as he wanted. Cold lips pressed to where his fangs disappeared, greedily taking all that he could. It didn't cross your mind how you were going to hide these wounds, but maybe you wouldn't have to.
"Fuck." Coming off your collarbone, blood smeared around his mouth as he smacked your ass, grasping one of your tits and thumbing the nipple. "You're so perfect, all I've ever wanted."
And his words bloomed in your chest affectionately, smiling down and wiping some of the blood with your thumb, dipping it into his mouth.
"And you're the best thing to walk in those doors, never been fucked better." Pushing yourself off his chest and sitting up, gyrating your hips on his cock, hitting the deepest part that made your vision starry. Reiner marveled as you performed on top of him, running his hands over your body and offering encouraging words, praising you for how well you took him. All of it was surging your orgasm, turning whiny and pressing your hands into his chest as you brought yourself closer to release.
"I'm so close, Reiner, fuck." Whimpering to him, throwing your head back as you fucked yourself on his cock. Reiner nodded, grabbing your ass again and keeping you still, thrusting up into you at a fierce pace. Your body struggled to hold yourself up as his cock slammed in and out of you, moaning his name without care.
"Come with me, come on my cock baby." Rasping the command, one you followed instantly when your orgasm washed over you, fluttering around his cock as it continue to hammer into you. Reiner snagged you for another kiss, sighing and letting his fangs pierce your bottom lip, more blood pouring into his mouth. He was such a greedy bastard sometimes.
A minute after you came, Reiner was nearing his end as well, breaking his rhythm and slamming you down on his cock, feeling him pulse inside of you, the warmth of his cum flooding your walls.
Motionless you lay on his chest, his hands caressing up and down your back, bringing comfort to sooth the soon to be soreness in your body. As you lay there, the offer came back to your mind. Reiner lived a good life, from what you knew, and he'd keep you safe if you were just like him. But the risks that came with it frightened you. What if something were to happen and Reiner weren't there? What if someone discovers you weren't human and tries to kill you? The cons were outweighing the pros, but when have you ever listened to reason? Reiner gave you the thrill you sought when he came to visit you, and how long did you plan on working at this place anyway? With mortality out of the equation, the options were limitless and who would refuse something like that?
"I'll take you up on that offer."
Reiner was relaxing with his eyes closed, nearly shooting up when you said that. He looked at you perplexed, concerned almost.
"Are you sure?" Brushing his fingers on the side of your face, his hand dropping when you sat up, both of you wincing from till being connected.
"Yes. I thought about it and this short life wouldn't be long enough for me and I'd hate for my favorite client to mope when I eventually leave this world."
Softly he chuckled at the mild dark humor, bringing his hand back up and tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. If he hesitated on turning you any longer, you might change your mind, knowing this was a bit of impulse talking in you.
"If you're one hundred percent sure, I can do it now." Sitting up all the way, patting your thigh for you to get off of his lap. You sat on the edge of the bed, watching as he got up fully and grabbed his briefs, making himself slightly more decent.
As nervous as you were, there wasn't going back, you decided you wanted this and weren't going to back out. Reiner came to stand in front of you, offering his hand for you to stand as well.
"I'll pierce your neck for a few seconds, then you'll need to drink from my wrist." Holding his arm out and running his sharp nails up his forearm, watching as the blood pouring from the depth his nails raked. You nodded and tipped your head to one side, giving him room.
Carefully cradling the sides of your face, Reiner didn't hesitate in biting deep into your neck, the pain much more than when he was feeding off of you, but you pushed through, vision turning fuzzy and dull, barely able to make out his figure in front of you.
The aroma of his blood flooded your nostrils, taking his arm wildly and drinking what you could. He groaned softly, maybe in pain but you paid no mind, suddenly starving and needing all that he could offer.
Reiner had to pull you away after a moment, helping you sit back on the bed and calling your name. Everything was blurry and your body felt heavy as it became harder to keep your head up. Gently he moved you to lay back onto the bed and your vision went dark.
There was no telling how long you'd been out, but when you woke, something felt different. Your memory didn't fail you and quickly you looked down at your arms, noticing the holes from his fangs were healed. Reiner was dressed and sitting in the chair, finishing a cigarette. He looked human, like how he always did when he arrived here and you wondered if you looked human or vampiric.
"How do you feel?" Suddenly he asked, rising from the chair and coming over with something in his hands. Clothes were laid in your lap or a robe more like. But the further you looked around the room you realized you weren't in the suite room, everything so unfamiliar.
"Different but okay. Where am I?" Slipping the satin fabric over your body, taking into account it was dark but not unlit in this mysterious room.
"I brought you to my home. I didn't want you to wake and it be light out. Open." Pressing his thumb to your bottom lip, complying with him and parting your lips. Reiner smiled satisfied, tracing over your teeth. "Perfect."
And that single utterance had your own hands coming up to your mouth, feeling around for what he was and feeling the sharp ends of two particular teeth.
"It worked?"
"It worked." Smiling gleefully and thumbing over your bottom lip. An unexplainable feeling came over you, smiling back at him and feeling your new fangs with your tongue, proceeding to grab the tie around his neck and yanking him down. Reiner beat you to the searing kiss you were about to give, hungrily devouring one another as if new life had been breathed into you. Now you were like him, and a whole new world opened up.
"Im curious," Saying as you broke the kiss, holding the back of his head and waiting for his full attention. Reiner cocked a brow and nodded for you to continue. "Is there any harm in drinking the blood of another vampire?"
His brows raised even further, nervous until he understood your implication, breaking out into a smirk and pulling you more into his chest.
"There's no harm but it doesn't sate the hunger, most vampires don't even bother, why?" The sly tone in his voice let you understand that he knew exactly where you were going with this.
"I enjoyed the times you'd come see me and found it quite arousing." Giggling and brushing your hand across his cheek, wetting your bottom lip. "Plus I'd hate for my favorite client to get bored of me."
A deep laugh rumbled in his throat, grabbing your leg and bringing it to rest on his hips, balancing you in his hands. "I'd never get bored of you, but all for giving into your whims."
"All of them?" Teasing the question, brushing your lips across his.
"All of them. We have an eternity to explore together, and I plan on doing just that."
In which, Viktor has a sweet wife that, weirdly enough, no one really knew about.
a/n: hi divas! Erm this is my first time writing for Viktor so I'm sorry if he sounds out of character.
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"Viktor? What is that on your finger?" Jayce inquired, suddenly appearing behind Viktor and peering curiously over his shoulder. Viktor felt a knot form in his stomach as he glanced down at his hand, where a gleaming wedding band rested snugly on his finger. He cursed under his breath, realizing he had meant to remove it but had completely forgotten in the whirlwind of his work.
"Just a ring," Viktor replied evasively, casting a quick look back at Jayce while clicking his tongue in annoyance. Jayce, however, was undeterred. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest, a teasing smirk forming on his lips. "Isn’t that the same finger where wedding rings typically go?" he challenged, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. "Don’t tell me you actually have a wife?"
Viktor maintained his silence, his heart racing in response to Jayce’s playful interrogation. "Even if I did, I wouldn't share that information with you," he said tersely, redirecting his attention back to the Hextech gemstone in front of him, his mind racing as he tried to refocus on his work.
Jayce, still leaning casually against the desk, raised his eyebrow further, the smirk on his face beginning to fade away. He studied Viktor’s expression closely, a frown of confusion.
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“Viktor has a wife? That’s just absurd,” Mel declared, waving her hand dismissively as if to brush away the very notion.
“No, I swear! He’s actually wearing a wedding ring. When I asked him about it, he responded with, ‘Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you,’” Jayce insisted, leaning closer to Mel's desk, his hands planted firmly on the surface.
Mel rolled her eyes in disbelief, leaning back in her chair and letting her hands fall into her lap. “Who on Earth would marry Viktor?” she whispered, her curiosity piqued as she leaned forward slightly, her expression a mix of intrigue and skepticism. “No offense, but…” she trailed off, momentarily glancing away, her thoughts clearly racing.
Jayce sighed, exasperated. “I mean, it’s not the best image, is it?” he muttered, shrugging as he contemplated the idea. His mind seemed to wander as he contemplated the strange pairing. “Plus, why do you even care?” Mel asked, raising an eyebrow at him, a hint of playful challenge in her voice. “Because I want to know what she looks like!” he responded with a hint of frustration, glancing off to the side, and groaning.
Mel pondered for a moment, her brow furrowing. “Even if he did have a wife, wouldn’t she be here at the Academia with him?” she pointed out, her curiosity beginning to overshadow her previous skepticism. “That’s exactly what I’m saying!” Jayce exclaimed, running his fingers through his hair in agitation. “It doesn’t add up!”
With a sigh, Mel straightened up, her expression turning serious. “Look, I have much bigger problems to deal with than figuring out who Viktor is married to,” she stated firmly.
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"When do you think he sees his wife?" Mel asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she peeked around the corner of the dimly lit hallway. The soft glow of fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting shadows on the walls of the Academia. Jayce followed her gaze, cautiously poking his head out to get a better look.
"Hmm... maybe when he isn’t buried under a mountain of work," Jayce mused, tilting his head and furrowing his brow in thought. His dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, and he swept it back with a casual motion. Mel, with an exasperated huff, rolled her eyes dramatically.
"You should know this! You’re his partner, for crying out loud," she murmured, her tone tinged with disbelief as she crossed her arms. Jayce's expression shifted to one of sheepishness, his cheeks flushing slightly as he glanced away, avoiding her accusatory gaze.
"But I leave before him. I'm already gone by the time he usually starts his day. And when I come back to the lab, it’s always just him—working away, lost in his experiments," Jayce replied, his shoulders lifting in a shrug that conveyed both confusion and resignation. He could sense Mel's frustration, but the truth was, Viktor’s work schedule was a puzzle he had yet to solve.
Mel sighed heavily, her brow knitting together in thought. "How do you not know… never mind," she grumbled, her voice trailing off as she turned her attention back to Viktor, who was at that moment preparing to leave.
"Shhh!" Jayce hissed urgently, his eyes widening as he quickly placed a hand over Mel's mouth, the sound echoing loudly in the stillness. They both watched in silence as Viktor slowly began to rise, gripping his crutch tightly under his arm while gathering his belongings with meticulous care. He seemed unaware of the two pairs of eyes on him, lost in his own world.
Viktor gripped his documents as he walked down the hallway, his eyes narrowed. He made his way down to the back of the Academia, opening a door. Jayce and Mel looking out the window from the other story. "The hell is he doing?" Jayce muttered under his breath. "Look," Mel said, spotting you not too far in the distance. "Is that his wife?" Jayce whispered.
"Viktor." You spoke up, smiling when you saw him. You stood up from the bench you were sitting at. Viktor eagerly wobbled over to you. "I've been waiting." You teased lightly, taking the documents from his hand and placing them down on the bench. Viktor could only stare at you. He hadn't seen you in a while. But he'd never say that he missed you. "How are you doing?" You asked gently, guiding him to sit down, placing his crutch aside. "I've been...well," Viktor said plainly. "I could be better." He muttered, glancing off to the side. You nodded, sitting beside him. You glanced down at his hand, raising an eyebrow. "You wore your wedding ring?" You asked, a small smile forming on your face. Viktor's cheeks warmed a bit, sighing. "I meant to take it off." He grumbled as his fingers ran over the wedding band. "I'm glad you wore it. It suits you." You giggled lightly, placing your hand over his.
Meanwhile, with Jayce and Mel, they could only stare in shock. "Of course, he has a pretty wife too!" Jayce groaned as he shook his head. "Of course," Mel muttered as she sweat drops. "Who knew she was so darling?"
INCLUDES— fingering, clit play, cunnilingus, making out, groping, blowjob/throat fucking (?), hand job, body worship, grinding, breast/nipple play.
WARNINGS— 21 links, all of these videos are for afab readers/viewers, don't like don't read/watch, make sure to be logged into twt/x beforehand, if some of the links stop working please lmk !
when making out and groping turns into fingering with viktor
riding viktor after he gets home from the lab
he loves being able to suck on your boobies
you asked him to be a little bit rougher with you
he said he was tired so you did the work for him
sub!vik has never had such a foul mouth before
squirming on his fingers
viktor loves your lips wrapped around his cock
he can't leave his pretty girl unsatisfied
asking for his cum inside of you
feeling each others arousal
vik likes to spend a good amount of time on foreplay
rutting against his face like this
more of him loving your tits
keeping warm together
he knows if he takes his head out of the pillow he'll be a moaning mess
eating you out is always one of his favourite past times
he's embarrassed to show his red face
you're always so sexy whenever you get a new set
he knows it's a little pathetic jerking his cock while you grind against his fingers
you were used to everything by now. the smell of gunpowder, constant yelling, paperwork, meetings—all of it. working for dynamight was, a dream come true, people would say. “waah! y/n, you’re so lucky, you get to work for THE dyamight, i’m so jealous!” — “I bet he smells sooo good, what does he smell like??” but you weren’t there for the reasons people assumed you were here for.
quite frankly, you didn’t expect to get the job. his personal assistant. you were the one who handled mission reports, the media, meetings, patrol schedules—everything. even the nonsense, if bakugo doesn’t feel like dealing with it, you deal with it. could be fangirls swarming him in public, during panels, you were the one who took care of everything. weird enough you got good at it, managing the storm—even the man himself.
dyamight is a firece man, sitting at number #4, he’s intense in many ways. explosions, the smell of smoke after each victory, the constant energy shift when he enters the room. people looked up to him. the man was good at what he does, and over the years of working for him, being his personal assistant, you’ve learned a lot about him.
how he likes his coffee made, black, no sugar. how you can notice if anything was wrong with him, if he tried to hide it from you, having to hear you scold him each time, or if you noticed he had no lunch—you were the one who kept him together behind closed doors.
many, assumed you’re his wife, because of how close you two grew over the years of working together, but you always shut the rumors down before they can even bloom. you told yourself—it’s only a work relationship, nothing more would spark from it. except…the way he looks at you tells the media a different story. it wasn’t like any other look he gives the rest of his employees, it wasn’t that fiery glare, that meant business behind it. it was more.
the kind of look that made you gain goosebumps, making your pulse jump, heart beat increasing. sometimes you could feel his stare piercing through you when you told him his weekly schedule, or the way he sneaked glances when you were at your desk, and you always pretended you didn’t notice. but God how your fingers would tremble, heart racing 10x faster each time. and when you would look up, he’d already be gone. you told yourself, maybe he’s just zoning out?
then you caught him.
it was after a fight with a villain he’s been tracking down for months. you were afar, speaking with police, gaining reports, when you felt his eyes, that same look. you couldn’t help but sneak a glance, crimson eyes already on you. they were dark, his usual scowl plastered on his face, eyeliner smudged across his eyes due to sweat, his mask pushing his hair back—when you two made eye contact, you felt your heart jump out of your chest, breath hitching, before he turned back to the new reporter. every time…every time your heart always betrays you when you say, it’s nothing more—but was that really true?
the night in the office was quiet, too quiet as you were sat at your desk, fingers typing away at your computer finishing up one of his reports. everyone else had gone home, hours ago, but you decided to stay back, wanting to get this reports filled out. when the door opened and closed, heavy footsteps echoing through the office, he noticed the computer screen on, raising a brow, stopping at your desk. “why’re you still here?” he asked, voice rougher, huskier than usual.
you flinched at the sound of voice looking up, it looked like he just got done from a fight. his eyeliner was smudged, his chest rising and falling, rapidly, his mask pushing his hair out his face, as sweat dripped from his forehead. you couldn’t bypass how attractive he looked, swallowing hard. “you look like crap.” you softly smiled, the only thing you could spit out, snorting, placing his gauntlets near your desk. “gee, thanks. exactly what I wanted to hear, after chasing a psycho for the past hour.” you rolled your eyes, going back to typing on the computer. “I just…wanted to finish your reports, so I decided to stay back.” you answered, voice warm, soft, pulse thumping against your skin.
the smell of smoke, metal, and gunpowder was overwhelming, trying so hard to keep your composer. he gave a lazy grin, “y’know, you always stay here late, doin’ my dirty work.” he murmured, grabbing his gauntlet from the floor, walking towards his office. you stopped typing for a second, turning around in your chair, raising a brow. “it’s my job, isn’t it?” you questioned, stopping mid-step, glancing over his shoulder, crimson eyes baring into yours. “yeah…it is.” he said slowly, then there was a pause. you swallowed that lump in your throat, finger gripping the edge of your desk. “then why say it like it’s not?”
bakugo chuckled under his breath, turning back around. “cause’ i notice everything you do, the hard work you put in everyday. you’re not forced to stay here late—every damn night at that, but you do it anyways. I appreciate your work, y/n.” was the last thing he said before entering his office, shutting the door closed. your breath caught, heart skipping a beat. you’ve never expected to hear him say words like that. it wasn’t a direct ‘thank you’ but…it was his way of saying it. you couldn’t help the faint smile tugging to your lips. he appreciates you.
you exhaled, trying shake it off, but you couldn’t. his words clung heavy to your chest, they were warm, soft. he appreciates me. your eyes flickered back up to his office, the glass windows were tinted, but it wasn’t enough to hide the faint outline of him shrugging off his costume—your eyes widened, you shouldnt be looking at him!! he’s your boss for crying out loud!…but the way his back flexed under the compression shirt, his movements, slow and deliberate—you couldn’t help but stare.
then he looked up. eyes straight on you. though the window was tinted, barley showing his face, you could still feel that same stare he’s been giving you all month. you squeaked out of surprise, tearing your eyes away, swallowing hard, feeling hot, going back to typing on the computer, but the tremble of your fingers made it hard to. then you heard the door open. you practically flinched at the sound. “you should…go home.” his voice spoke, low, husky. you looked up to the sound of his voice, to see him standing in the doorway. one arm leaning against the frame, messy hair, costume off, leaving him in the black compression shirt that hugged his body so fucking well.
and that stare. his eyes were darker than usual, low lidded, glaring at you in a way that made your knees go weak. bedroom eyes. something mina once said, when she caught bakugo looking at you during an agency dinner. you didn’t believe her at first—until now. the way his eyes were heavy, saying many things, he didn’t admit out loud. your throat went dry, blinking, looking down, avoiding his stare, clearing your throat.”
“and you should rest, you’ve had a long day...dynamight.” he hummed, footsteps coming closer, heavier than before. “can’t.” he said dry and simple, you looked back up, “why not?” he leaned against your desk, close enough to feel warmth radiating off his body. “cause’ someones still here, tappin away like a damn robot.”
your lips twitched, a small snort escaping your throat. “you mean someone who’s keeping your career from vanishing?” he chuckled, tearing his eyes away for a second, looking at you again. “yeah, that too I guess.” the air shifted between you both, the same thumping in your pulse increased, practically hearing your own heart beat against your chest.
you could see his gaze faintly drop to your lips, then back to your eyes, gulping. “dynamight—“ you started, shifting in your chair, but he cut you off, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face, feeling the faint heat in his palms. “you don’t get it.”
“what?” your breath caught, but he frowned, fingertips trailing across your jaw, “can’t even look at you without forgetten’ what the hell I was doin’.” your words caught, a nervous chuckle escaping your throat. “…you’re tired.” you whispered, almost weakly. “maybe.” he murmured, his eyes flickering, then he laughed softly, taking his hand off your face, running it through his hair, standing back up. “go home, and I mean it.” he said, walking back to his office, waving a hand. you stayed quiet. once you heard the door shut, you let out a big breath, placing a hand on your heart,
since that night, you haven’t seen him in two days, two nights. after that night, the silence felt heavier, thicker than before, his office was empty, cold, without his usual warmth, patrol reports still stacking on your desk—but even then. you didn’t text, didn’t call, you convinced yourself he was fine, he could handle himself, he always did, this was a normal thing that happened. but deep down, you still worried for him. wondering if he’s still alive, if he’s hurt. you tried not to think too much of it, trying to not think about the worse outcome to happen, and…and that night. you couldn’t get that moment out of your head, his eyes—God those eyes, his voice, his finger brushing against your cheek, your jaw. it was haunting you.
you tried to focus on typing the recent report that happened, your hair was messy, shirt slightly unbuttoned, trying to get this done, but it kept coming back. you couldn’t get him out of your head if you tried to—then the sound heavy foots, and a loud door slamming open made your ears perk up. the sharp smell of familiar smoke— gunpowder went up your nose. your heart skipped a beat. dynamight was there, standing in the doorway, chest heaving, mask hanging loose around his neck, eyeliner smudged again, his lip bleeding, and one of his sleeves from his costume torn clean off.
he looked tired, furious—when he noticed you, he looked you up and down, scoffing. “you’re here again, huh?” he said, voice low, rough. you blinked, standing up from your desk, ignoring his words. “you’re hurt..” you said, stepping towards him without thinking. he shook his head, wiping his mouth, turning to walk to his office. “i’ll be fine.” you frowned, following him, heels clicking against the floor.
“is that all you say, after disappearing for two days?” he kept walking, you kept following, he pushed the door open to his office, dropping his gauntlets on the floor, not caring where they were, grumbling. “you keepin’ tabs on me now?” his back was still turned towards you, seeing his shoulder rise and fall, placing a hand on your hip, scoffing. “when my boss comes back looking like he flew through two buildings, yeah, i’m gonna check if he’s alive.”
he halfed laughed, looking over his shoulders now—that look was back. “still mouthy, huh?” you furrowed your eyebrows, fists clenched together. “well someone has to be.” he turned his body to face you now and you swore for a moment, you felt your heart skip a beat. you could’ve swore, his eyes were darker this time, as his footsteps came closer, backing you up a little, gulping feeling your back hit the wall.
but it didn’t seem like he cared, “you shouldn’t be here this late.” he said again, voice dropping, “…you said that the last time.” you whispered, eyes flickering between his eyes and lips. his jaw flexed, hands placing on the side of your head, feeling heat radiate off his palms.
“katsuki.” your breath hitched, the distance around you, closing, fast. his name slipping out, made his pulse jump, leaning in. “say it again. my name..” he whispered, you swallowed, hands gripping your skirt. “you’re hurt, you need—“ he leaned closer, lips barley grazing each other, “stop worryin’ about me for a second, huh? I’m fine.” you could see every mark on his face now, the cut on his lip, faint marks of ash on his neck, hair messy, covering his eyes, you sighed, eyes going soft. “you scare me when you just…leave like that, and come back hurt.” his head tilted, eyes softening you didn’t know that could happen. “…sorry.” the words hung out low, loosely between you both.
“katsuki—“ then…his lips met yours. you squeaked, eyes going wide, feeling like your heart was going to jump out of your chest. the kiss was rough, desperate, like he’s been waiting for this moment, but even so—you have too, letting your eyes slowly fall closed, both hands on his cheek. he growled, feeling you nip at his bottom lip, clenching his hands into fist, fighting the urge to grab you, hands still hot, not wanting to burn you.
he pulled back, kissing along your jaw, then towards your ear, whispering, like he was out of breath. “wrap yours hands around my neck.” you obeyed, “jump, and wrap your legs around me.” you did, you held on with a tight grip, gasping feeling him walk towards his desk, placing you on top of it, taking your lips back with his.
your hands tangled with his hair, moaning softly against his mouth, tugging on it. “you drive me fucking crazy..” he growled, pulling back, eyes glaring into yours, giggling, wiping a thumb across his bottom lip, tilting your head. “do I?” you teased, your legs pulling him closer. “you know damn well you do.” he scoffed, taking your lips again, giggling again, dragging him down as your back hit the desk.
katsuki grumbled into your mouth, eyebrows furrowed, feeling his pants start to tighten. he hadn’t realized he was practically humping you like dog, his cock twitching in irritation, smirking. “you’re hard, huh?” you pointed out, pulling back just enough to see his eyes glare into yours, scoffing. “no shit.” he mumbles trailing his hands towards your dress shirt, unbuttoning it. you shivered feeling the warmth still lingering on his palms, arching your back slightly, giving him more room to tug it off.
when he pulled back to take a look at you, his eyes darkened. they were hungry. needy, staring you down like you were his prey, lingering over your body. you were wearing a lacy bra, and from your skirt being slightly lifted he noticed you had the matching bottoms to it. he scoffed. you grinned, sitting up on the desk, placing one hand on his chest, the other trailing up his arm, tilting your head. “wearing that shit to work? you’re real fuckin’ bold.” you giggled shrugging. “I wanted to feel pretty today.” he clicked his tongue, cocking an eyebrow. “and you also stink.” your nostrils flared, rolling his eyes. “shut it.” he grumbled, wrapping your legs around his waist, lifting you back up. you flinched at the warmth of his palms, still hot, but it wasn’t enough to burn you.
he walked across the room, towards the showers. you didn’t get a chance to even take off your clothes before he turned on the water, wetting both you and him. “katsuki! my clothes—!” he cut you off, placing his lips back on top of yours, pinning you against the wall, shivering from the stone hitting your bare back. you melted instantly, tilting your head, deepening the kiss. katsuki growled feeling you tug at his hair, gripping the back of his neck, fighting him for dominance. he held you up with one hand, using the other to tug off his pants. you felt his tip graze against your panties, pulling back out of shock, looking down. he was big.
he saw the way your eyes widened a bit, snickering. “scared?” he mocked, looking back up, frowning, shaking your head. “no.” but the way your voice wavered just a bit made him assume otherwise. “we don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to.” his voice came out rough, like a soft whisper, gripping you tighter against him. your heart thumped against your chest in awe, laughing shyly. “I do want to…it’s just…” you trailed, biting your lip, too embarrassed to say it. katsuki cocked an eyebrow, but he knew, eyes softening.
“virgin?” you immediately hid your face in the crook of his neck, in embarrassment, mumbling. “…yeah.” you’ve kissed people before, made out with them, gave hickey’s—but you’ve never went further than that. katsuki scoffed, but there was gentleness behind it. “there’s nothin’ to be embarrassed about, dumbass.” he said, but sighed. “…are you sure, you want it to be me.” you lifted your head back up to look into his eyes. they were so soft, filled with concern, unsure.
you gave a comforting smile, nodding your head. “I’m sure..I want—I want it to be you.” you breathed out, nervously, watching katsuki’s eyes trail down. his cock was pulsing, twitching, pre cum already dripping from the tip. he didn’t know why…but the thought of taking your virginity turned him on more. he grunted taking his cock into his hand, starting with slow strokes, tilting his head back up. “pull…your panties to the side.” he muttered, voice dropping. you bit your lip, nodding your head, obeying, shivering when you felt cold air, hit your folds, gasping when he rubbed his tip against you.
it felt weird…but so good. you twitched in his hold, head falling to his shoulder already becoming a moaning mess. he rubbed his tip against your pussy, slow, and gentle, his grunts deep and needy, wanting to just slide into you already. “shit—didn’t even slide into you yet, and you’re already so wet.” your legs tightened around his waist, feeling him move to your pulsing hole. your pulse was thumping, anxiety building up. he felt you start to tremble out of fear, making him pause. “you’re trembling—“ he frowned, but you shook your head, nails grazing his back. “m’fine! just..,push it in.” your voice came out rougher than you meant it to be, katsuki still hesitated but, pushed the tip in slow. your eyes widened, toes curling every inch he pushed inside you. “f-fuck!” you cried out, tears instantly swelling up.
katsuki groaned softly, feeling how tight and warm you were, pushing more into you. you trembled violently against his hold, biting your lip so hard you tasted copper in your mouth, tears falling on his shoulder. “i-is it in?” you asked weakly, against his shoulder. he hummed, nodding his head. “yeah.” you felt so full…you lifted your head to look into his eyes, yours watery, low lidded, like you were in a daze. “you’re so…big.” you whined, twitching against him. katsuki chuckled, using a hand to move a strand of hair out your face. “I’m gonna start movin’ ya, okay? relax f’me.” you said a small “okay.” relaxing your body just a bit—until it tensed right back up again, feeling a weird, painful sensation as he lifted you up and back down. you felt like you were out of breath, eyes squeezing closed, everytime he lifted you back down, you felt your tummy twist.
he hissed under his breath feeling your nails dig deep in his shoulder, tears falling against your cheek. “i-it hurts..” you managed out, tears continuing to fall. katsuki hummed, grunting, feeling you hug his cock just right. “I know baby, it gets better.” he huffed out continuing to lift your hips up and down his cock. it only took a few more thrusts before the pain started to ease, turning into pleasure, getting used to his size each second. your moans began to spiral, getting needier, rolling your hips wanting more friction. “go…faster, please kat. I-I can take it.” you begged, lips finding his neck, licking, sucking, against his skin, feeling you bite at his neck like a damn vampire, bouncing you faster.
every thrust he did, your body jolted up. the sounds you were making was pushing him over edge, the way you were getting louder, feeling him hit a sweet spot that drove you insane. “r-right there!” you panted, it felt so good. once he found your g spot you swore he went deeper on purpose, smirking, loving the way you clawed at him . “that feels good?” you nodded, whining in response. all the pain, nervousness washed over almost immediately. he leaned down to peck your shoulder blade, towards your neck, up to your jaw, his canines grazing against your skin just slightly.
“you’re stil so fuckin’ tight..” he murmured, pulling back enough to look into your eyes. you looked cock drunk already. mouth parted just slightly, eyes half lidded, teary— you looked so fucking cute. thrusts after thrusts, you started to feel a weird tingle in your tummy. like you were going to pee—it was coming fast. your eyes widened, not liking that. “w-wait—!” you panicked, feeling it start to come. “I-I feel like i’m gonna—“
“pee?” he finished, keeping the same pace. you nodded quickly, wanting him to stop, but he snorted. “you’re not gonna pee. you’re hitting your first orgasm.” he pecked your jaw, closing his eyes shut, also feeling his knot come. “you’re fine, just—fuck, let it happen.” his voice dropped, moving your hips faster, sliding you all the way down his cock.
your moans got louder, echoing through the shower, toes curling, feeling it come. “there you fuckin’ go…cum on this cock.” he growled, feeling you shake around him, “kat!” you screamed, jolting and twitching feeling a warm ooze spill down your thigh, onto his cock, your head falling on his shoulder as you came. “there you go.” he mumbled, rolling your hips letting you ride it out, whining when you felt how sensitive you got.
when he slipped out of you, groaning softly, he held you close to his chest, panting, heavy, chest heaving up and down, unwrapping your legs from his waist. you whined, feeling your feet hit the wet pavement, legs feeling like jelly holding onto him. when you looked down, your skirt was soaked from the water, and white drip down your legs. you grunted softly, at the icky feeling, then your gaze flickered towards his cock. he was still hard. you looked back up at him. “you’re still hard.” katsuki hummed, pecking your shoulder, exhaling. “I’ll be fine.” but you shook your head, biting your lip, trailing your hand towards his cock, taking it into your hand.
you felt him twitch in your hold, breathing going uneven. “what’re you doin..” you gripped onto his forearm to keep yourself steady, moving your hand slow. “you didn’t get to finish..” you replied, eyes focusing on his cock. he grumbled, hand curling into fists beside your head, his other hand gripping your waist. “I told you I was…fuck—fine.” he groaned, feeling you squeeze him, moving faster. “stop being so stubborn.” you argued back, never taking your eyes off him. “let me…help you, kat.”
you pecked his shoulder, feeling his hips buck into your hand, head in the crook of your neck, covering his groans. “faster..” he whispered, giving in. you did. you moved your hand faster, squeezing him tighter, driving him crazy. his breaths hitting your neck, hips moving with your pace. he felt his orgasm come again, fast. “I’m gonna cum.” he growled, you used your other hand to tug his hair, pulling him back from your neck, placing your lips with his.
he instantly kissed back, eyebrows furrowing. you moaned softly, feeling him nip at your bottom lip, groans getting louder, feeling warm ooze leak onto your hand. he pulled back just enough, panting, hard and heavy trying to catch his breath, leaning his head onto your shoulder, hips twitching. “you came a lot..” you muttered, looking down to see your hand covered. katsuki scoffed, exhaling a big breath.
“thought you were damn…virgin.” you chuckled, “I am…well—not anymore.” you said shyly, “I just...watched a few videos.” you mumbled, bringing your hand up. when he looked up, seeing you lick up his cum off his hand, not missing the way your eyes were dark, lust lingering as you did. he swore you did that shit on purpose, smirking when you saw the way his eyes darkened, following your tongue licking your hand clean. “damn brat..” he snarled, giggling. “that tastes weird..” katsuki rolled his eyes, scoffing.
“well no shit.” he pulled you off the wall, feeling warm water finally hit your back, leaning into his chest, feeling tired. “I’m so sleepy…Is that normal?” he nodded, “yeah…don’t go falling asleep, you need to wash up.” you hummed tirelessly, keeping your head on his chest, feeling the warm water hit your back. “that feels good..” you mumbled, hearing a small snicker, not missing the small his whisper. “cute.” leaning more into his chest letting your eyes close. “y’know you’re mine now.” he said, you looked up from his chest, giving a tired smile. “about time.
a/n: soft!dom Reiner, you will always make me blush heheheh
tags: Reiner Braun x f!reader, modern au, friends with benefits type situation, cockwarming, soft!dom Reiner, edging, semi-public sex, nipple play, smut.
Kinktober day seven: cockwarming for anon
Mr.Braun had been incredibly moody as of late. Not that it was anything out of the ordinary in regards to him, but lately there was something more to it. Putting aside the fact that he was your co-worker and the two of you have only hung out outside of work at team building functions, you sort of cared about his well being. Could be due to the times you and him have hooked up on the drunken occasion or just the big heart you had. Either way, you wanted to get to the bottom of it.
"Mr.Braun?" Barely knocking on his office door and carefully prying it open, not bothering to wait and see if he were busy.
"Yes?" Not even looking away from his monitors as the reading glasses rested low on his nose, hair tousled from the amount of times he's probably ran his hand through.
"Mr.Galliard cancelled this afternoons meeting."
Now you had his attention, a bit of relief washing over his features at your announcement.
"Did he say why?" Throwing himself back into his desk chair and tossing the reading glasses to one corner of his desk, folding his hands over his stomach.
"Schedule conflict. He'll want to reschedule with you tomorrow, I've added it to your calendar to give him a call."
He nodded and stared off into space for a moment. You could easily take this opportunity to slip out of his office and get back your own desk, but why would you do that?
"What are you doing?"
The scrape of the chair legs against the carpet brought him back to focus, brow raised as he watched you take a seat across from him.
"It's the end of the day, only 20 minutes until we're both off." Pretending to check the watch you didn't have on your wrist, giving him a feigned coy smile.
"And?"
"And," Elongating your words to imply that you still had more to say, even though you paused long enough for him to say something as well. "It's obvious that you're stressed out more than usual."
"Is this an intervention?" Not amused in the slightest, actually looking quite irritated with you. Though you weren't phased by that, in fact it fueled you and Reiner should know that by now.
"No." Setting the binder you came in with on the seat you stood from, kicking off your heels and walking to stand beside his chair. He looked up at you, tired, slightly annoyed but curious about what you had going on up in your head.
"Then...?"
Rolling your eyes, swiveling the desk chair in your direction, you threw one leg over his lap, not sitting just yet, hovering and massaging your hands on his shoulders. Just the slightest relief could be heard in the breath he let out, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back onto the chair's headrest.
"Figured you'd welcome a little reprieve and go over the presentation I've been working on." Distracting him with your words as you finally straddled his lap, the pencil skirt you were wearing riding up on your thighs, revealing just a bit more skin.
Hesitation of the sort still remained, his brow cocked and his hands still resting on the arms of his desk chair. What you wanted - or had in mind to relax your co-worker was risky, but when has that stopped either of you before.
Reaching for the flash drive you had tucked into your bra, you turned around on his lap, back facing him as you faced his monitors. Reiner's chair was pushed away from his desk to the point you had to lean over, intentionally arching your back and giving him the perfect view of your ass strained against the pencil skirt you wore. A low breath, possibly a frustrated breath at the fact he couldn't resist you could be heard from behind, grinning to yourself at the quickness of his submission.
Minimizing all the tabs he had open so you had a clear screen to pull up your presentation for next weeks board meeting, you finally felt the palms of his hands caressing your backside, moving in circular motions and even tempting with the hem, almost wanting to push it up and out of the way. Breathlessly you giggled, inserting the flash drive into the side of one of his monitors and waiting for it to sync to the computer's brain. A few seconds later and you were able to open it, just for it to load . Reiner must've noticed, grabbing you at the waist and pulling you back into his chest, pressing his lips to the outer shell of your ear.
"You're such a tease and I haven't decided if I like the way you don't acknowledge it."
Gosh his voice was low, dropping an octave, sultry and wanting, turning you warm inside and out.
"What do you mean?"
He scoffed, clicking his tongue and encircling his arms around your middle, trapping you. "That right there. Playing coy like you're not sitting on my lap, arching your back and shoving your ass in my face."
Of course you knew what you were doing, but where was the fun in acknowledging that right away, giving him what he wanted. Reiner was fun to toy with, got worked up so easily it was practically child's play at this point. Though it was always worth it, never not being sore the next day after he takes it out on you.
"I'm just trying to get my presentation pulled up so you can look it over for me." Looping and arm behind his head, caressing the crown and angling yourself to look at him. Reiner's normally bright golden eyes were dulled and blown at the pupils. Might've been a new record for you seeing how little time it took to get him this worked up. The arms around your middle tightened and pulled you back further, seating you right over his crotch and then you felt it. His erection was prominent, leaving no room for you to second guess if he was half hard or not.
"We've been playing this game for a while sweetheart, I know your tactics." Chuckling like he'd won the war and not gotten a slight advantage in the battle, but you'd let him have this. Taking in a long inhale, pushing your chest out, you locked your legs around his and shifted over his crotch. Reiner blew air through his nostrils, loosening his arms and reaching his hands up to cup both of your tits, squeezing harder than what you were expecting.
"What are you going to do since you're so familiar with my tactics?"
There was still the impression that you had the upper hand, your slight over confidence when finding yourself like this sometimes ended in your demise and other times in your favor. It'll all depended on Reiner's mood, and at the moment, even that was hard to decipher.
Nipping your earlobe with his teeth, Reiner released your tits and reached down for the hem of your skirt, pulling it up until it bunched at your waist. The thong you wore wasn't even really considered a thong given how tiny it was, and Reiner noticed and rumbled with amusement. Hooking his finger around the piece of fabric that sat between your ass cheeks, he pulled it back and let it snap against your skin, loving the way you yelped.
"You're going to pull that presentation up so you can go over it."
And you hated the disappointment that came over you hearing that, not thinking he had any ulterior motives, which was a mistake on your part. Huffing and finding the cursor on the screen, you checked to see if the presentation was still loading, annoyed that it wasn't.
Expanding the file to fill the entire monitor, you cocked one of your shoulders back so he could see, noticing the way his eyes squinted as if he had trouble viewing it from the distance he was at, which wasn't very far.
"What's this presentation over?" Using his 'boss' voice when he asked the question, messing with the material of your thong as he waited for an answer.
"Why we should partner with Stohess Consulting Inc." Mundanely speaking, looking at the monitor and clicking to the next slide. You could feel his hands on you still, but it wasn't anything worth giving a reaction over.
"And why should we?"
Ugh, you hated when he asked questions in that mentoring tone, half the reason why you didn't come to him to review presentations, this was only meant as a ploy when coming into his office. But you'll play along.
"Because the Consulting company our contract ended with four months ago didn't live up to the expectations set for them, underperforming and costing us money."
Reiner pretended to listen, studying your thong and thinking of the easiest and most discreet way to get it off of you without you thinking he was giving you what you wanted. In a way he was, but nowhere near what you were probably thinking, not this time.
Quietly opening one of his desk drawers, spotting a pair of scissors, he smiled and pulled at the fabric, cutting the material connecting around your waste and what went between your ass. And your head was whipping around faster than he could put the scissors away. Shit.
"What are you doing?"
Though there was no irritation in your tone, there was excitement and right now, Reiner didn't want that, because then you'd be trapping him in your snare before he could blink.
"Have you gotten copies of current and previous contracts from Stohess Consulting Inc.?"
Both of you narrowed your eyes at each other, Reiner giving you that look to do as he says or this entire thing ends with both of you leaving unsatisfied. His message was quickly received, nodding your head and clicking to the next slide.
"I put together a portfolio for all the board members to look over in next week's meeting."
"Good." A slanted smile was tugging one corner of his mouth, clearing his throat for you to keep going.
Now that you were going along with what he wanted to do, Reiner pulled the cut thong away from your body, slipping it into his slacks pocket for reasons he shall not reveal. He pushed you away from his crotch to sit more on his thighs, giving him room to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his slacks. His cock was aching since you came behind his desk, thinking about you before you even came into his office.
Lately his mind had been wandering to thoughts about you, all the times you and him found moments to slip away, give into each other's desires. It was the relief he never got with his ex-wife, divorcing her a year ago, right around the same time you joined the company. You were eye catching the moment he saw you, a well renowned business analyst and exactly what this company needed to stay afloat and keep gaining success. He did his best to not find himself entangled with you, but in the back of his head, Reiner knew he would fail at that endeavor, which he did. He fucked you against the wall of a bathroom at a fancy bar the CEO of the company rented out for the night to celebrate the success of the quarter, not only meeting the numbers but exceeding them. You had been shamelessly flirting with him all night and the moment he told you he was divorced you gasped and said 'A shame someone as good looking wasn't appreciated properly.' and that was the last thing either of you said before he dragged you away from the others.
Reiner really hadn't been listening to your mock presentation, reminiscing the first time you two fucked and freeing his cock, which rested heavy against your ass cheek. He knew you knew it was there, watching how you eagerly scooted back to sit more on his lap, rotating your hips in a sensual manner.
"Do you have the numbers from when we were with the previous consulting company?"
Looking back over your shoulder, nonchalant as if you were truly just giving a mock presentation to prepare for next week.
"Yea, I'll email the documents to you later."
"I'll need to make copies and put them in the portfolios, just so the board members can make ample comparisons."
Turning back and clicking to the next slide, arching your back and leaning your upper body on his desk, giving him a clear view of your soaking wet pussy.
God, you were just as insatiable as him, maybe even more. Your juices gleamed in the lights of his office, meaning he could probably just slide in and skip prepping you for the stretch that came every time.
That's what Reiner decided on, no foreplay, just sliding his cock inside you and making you sit there and finish the presentation. He thought it'd be right up your alley, always having exciting ideas when the tension between you and him got to a boiling point. And it'd keep him in control like he wanted.
Aligning himself with your entrance, holding your hip for both his stability and your own, he faintly heard you reading off statistics for the Stohess company you'd been working on getting a contract with. Easily the tip slipped in, pulling you back with the hand on your hip to push past that tight ring of muscle. Fuck you were so wet already, making him question if this was all from sitting on his lap or you came to his office prepared.
"I'm sure the board will be wary with the age of the company but, they have a good reputa- oh fuck."
There was something so sweet the way your voice turned airy and pitchy when the stretch of his cock couldn't be ignored anymore, only half way in and your head was resting on the edge of his desk, trying to hold back your moans. Reiner chuckled, reaching to pull you up with an arm around your waist, kissing between your shoulders over your shirt.
"I've reviewed their fiscal year financial statements already and they have the numbers to back up their standings." Agreeing with your last statement, not even bothering to acknowledge how he was keeping you from sinking all the way down. And you wanted too so badly, breathily moaning and moving against the arm holding you, tightening your legs around his.
"Glad to see our chief financial officer is doing his due diligence."
Reiner hummed in acknowledgement, using his hand to fully untuck your shirt, undoing the buttons at the bottom. You were quick to notice what he was doing, taking over and hurriedly unbuttoning the blush pink button up you wore today.
His hand moved to grasp your wrist when you tried to take it all the way off, muttering to just unclasp your bra. He wasn't sure why he liked the way you looked in an open button up with no bra to conceal those perfect tits, but he did and he was going to have his way.
Doing as told, you tossed your bra across his office and attempted to sink down on him all the way, but he stopped you again. Frustrated, you clicked to the next slide, now realizing what his intentions were, torture basically.
"I've spoken with-" Abruptly stopping when his fingers pinched your nipple, twisting it and making it absolutely impossible to finish what you were saying. Fuck, he really was in a mood today.
"Reiner, please." Huffing after he finally stopped twisting and flicking it, panting from how good and vexing it was to be teased this way. You were desperate to have him all the way inside you, remind you what it felt like to be full of his fat cock. But no, he was being an ass and teasing the ever loving fuck out of you and you had no idea why.
"Do as I say and you'll get what you want." Growling into your ear, switching his demeanor entirely. It was only you that got him like this and it would only ever be you that would have the pleasure of enjoying him like that.
Not saying anything was the answer you gave, satisfying Reiner and brushing his palm over your nipple, letting you sink down on his cock a little more.
"Start from the beginning of the presentation. If you move or try to fuck yourself, you'll be riding your own fingers tonight and wishing you'd listened."
Shivers ran up your spine at the promising words, knowing he was being completely serious too. Even if you so badly wanted to bounce on his cock until both of you came, something about this was more exciting, the thrill of who could hold out the longest before giving in. You know Reiner thinks he'll be able too, but you had a better shot of placing all the bets on yourself than him.
Nodding over your shoulder and craning to brush your lips across his, he allowed the kiss, parting yours with a gentle motion, tilting his head to the side as his hand gripped your side fiercely. The angle was awkward but the insistence remained, moaning into his mouth as he pushed you down more and more, ignoring the ache in the junction of your hip and inner thigh from being spread out over his lap, needing all of this and taking as much as you could.
Finally he was fully inside you, keeping you still with both hands on your hips while occupying himself with your mouth. Reiner nipped and pulled at your bottom lip over and over, sending tiny pulses of pain each time he grabbed at your tender flesh. He turned so possessive when it was just you and him, and it was never not an insane turn on for you.
"Start from the beginning baby." Muttering as he finally broke the kiss, massaging his thumbs into your hip bones, leaning back into the desk chair.
Grabbing the edge of the desk to pull the chair closer so you could click back to the first slide, his cock nudge inside of you, right against your cervix. It was then you questioned your own restraint, wondering it were even possible to hold out until the end of the presentation. Of course you had to make it lengthy, but how could you anticipate this would be used against you like this.
Taking a deep breath, you read through your mental script in your head as you spoke, trying not to rush knowing Reiner might make you start again. He was eerily quiet behind you, occasionally grunting or humming at some of the facts or statements about Stohess Consulting. You wondered if he was really going to make you go through the entire thing, Reiner wasn't known to contain himself when it came to burying himself inside your cunt.
"Most of their employees are young, which isn't a bad thing. In fact it's helped the company stay with the trends, excelling in marketing."
Clicking the mouse to the next slide, a video attachment you pulled from their website as an example. Without asking, you clicked play, crossing your arms over your chest and glancing down at the corner of the presentation. 13/28. Jesus, you'd rather be tied to the bed and edged into oblivion than present 15 more slides with Reiner's cock nestled inside you.
The video wasn't even a minute long, clicking the next slide and seeing you provided another example of their marketing, oh you could fucking kiss yourself.
Reiner kept his hands tucked behind his head as you went through the presentation, just so he could avoid the temptation of moving you up and down, despite wanting to. Though a little teasing wouldn't hurt, you'd done good to listen to what he said so far.
Pressing his chest to your back and moving your open shirt away from your tits, he cupped them, kissing down the side of your neck slowly, feeling you start to squirm, but instantly stopping. He smirked at your compliance, loving how desperate you were to listen so you could earn what you wanted. Thumbs circled over your pebbled nipples, slowly and precisely, keeping his touch featherlight.
The second video example was almost over and he could feel how badly you now wished it were longer.
Clicking to the next slide anyway, Reiner spotted all the numbers and charts and how that all needed to be explained. Not stopping the opened mouthed kisses down your neck or the circling of his thumbs, he waited for you to begin.
"Their first year, after the company began, exceeded expectations for such a brand new company. This chart in the upper left is a comparison between them and another consulting company in their first year."
Reiner hadn't even looked at the computer monitor, he didn't care at the moment, he'd have the chance to actually pay attention at next week's board meeting when you'd actually present this. His lips stayed pressed to your skin as his thumb pressed down on your nipples, increasing the pace of his circular motions, hearing you pant and whine. You'd never had the most sensitive nipples, but knowing he was balls deep inside of you, not moving, it made sense this simple stimulation was working you up more than it did normally.
"Stohess won the best new company in their second - m'fuck- year, solidifying their new but reputable position in the corporate world."
Groping one tit and using his thumb an index finger on the other, Reiner hooked his chin over your shoulder, looking at the slide and nodding.
"Impressive."
You were quick to give him a dirty look, which he let slide, chuckling softly and pulling your nipple between his fingers as a retaliation.
"Keep going."
He so easily ground your gears, especially when you were like this. Reiner would admit that he was getting antsy for you to finish the presentation or at least for you to start begging for him to fuck you. But you were holding strong and he knew it was to get back at him, at least it built the tension and want for one another.
Your analyzing voice returned reading over the next slide, mentioning the portfolios and how copies were printed, internally praising you for thinking ahead and having that prepared, knowing the board members would appreciate it.
Releasing one of your tits, gliding down your stomach, Reiner stopped just below your naval, hearing you stop and clearing his throat as a reminder. A soft whine came, but you continued. His fingers ghosted over your clit and you subconsciously clenched around him. He had to stop before he moaned out loud, the way he throbbed inside of you becoming all the more noticeable. Finding your clit, Reiner tapped his middle finger over it and your hands gripped the arms of the desk chair until your knuckles turned white. Perfect.
"Stohess prides themselves on exceeding expectations, their most recent contract proof of that. Odiha International is their most newest and more notable contract, making them a trust worthy and perfect- Jesus fuck Reiner."
Tapping turned into small tight circles over your clit, sucking the side of your neck knowing it would leave a mark but knowing you wouldn't care.
"Odiha? News to me." Saying to distract you from rubbing the sensitive bud, but what use would that do? Nothing, he just wanted to listen to you whine in frustration and keep yourself from moving.
"Oh fuck you."
"Gotta ask nicely baby." Moving faster against your clit, adding a second finger to make it impossible to resist the begging and it seemed to be working, watching you fall forward, banging a fist on his desk.
"Fuck I can't finish the presentation, not like this."
"Want me to stop so you can focus?" Rubbing faster and even adjusting his hips, pressing himself so deep inside you for just a few seconds, your body giving a tremble.
"No." Wobbly words came out muffled and strained, sitting back up and placing your hands on his thighs.
"What do you want then?"
And he knew he'd probably ask that question a couple more times before you gave him the truth. But you were quiet, breathing in and out through your nose, digging your nails into his slacks.
"Tell me, or you'll be sitting here until you finish and I'll make you present it again."
"God you fucking bastard." Whimpering and throwing your head back, biting down on your bottom lip so hard, Reiner thought you'd break the skin.
"Just gotta ask, you've been so good for me." Whispering into your ear, gently kissing it and slowing down his fingers, lazily circling them around your clit.
A long minute stretched with silence, your heavy breaths through your nose and the creaking of the desk chair at the subtle movements from either of you filled the office. Reiner pulled his fingers away when you still hadn't said anything, dipping his middle and ring finger into his mouth and pressing it back to your clit, much harder this time, getting you to cry out.
"Fuck me, please just fuck me, let me ride you or bend me over, shit I don't care, I need you Reiner, please."
"There she is." Biting your earlobe and chuckling deep with triumph.
Instantly pulling his hand away and lifting you off of his cock, setting your feet on the ground and turning you all within few seconds. He didn't give you time to think, pulling you back onto his lap, facing him this time and slamming you down onto his cock. He choked on his own moan and you tore at his dress shirt as you cracked out a whimper.
Pulling your ass cheeks apart, planting his feet into the floor, Reiner slammed himself into you as he moved you down, starting a ferocious pace. Your thighs smacked against each other's in a loud echo and Reiner didn't bother holding back the deep moans and grunts from having your perfect pussy suffocate his dick with each thrust. You were crying out, moaning shamelessly, maybe even like a whore deprived of her work for too long, and Reiner loved it.
Once you had gained a bit of your composure, your hand rested on his shoulder and started to move your hips on your own, bouncing on his cock. Reiner lessened the thrusts from his own hips and let you do as you please, kissing across your collarbone and sighing.
"You held out longer than I was expecting." Smacking your ass and gripping it in a fist, teething his bottom lip as he watched your tits bounce with your movements.
"So did you, god I still want to kill you."
"Who's gonna fuck you right if you do that?" Grabbing your chin, bringing you in for a kiss so he didn't have to listen to whatever answer you came up with just to annoy him, you both knew it was Reiner and no one else.
Encircling around your middle again, Reiner picked up the thrusts into you again, letting you bite and tug at his lips, dig your nails into the nape of his neck, do whatever you wanted as he rammed himself in and out of you. He was close and he'd done well to hold off as best he could, but he'd tortutred you both long enough.
"Want you to cum for me, I'll fuck you nice and slow tonight to make up for it." Confessing in a hoarse voice, smacking your ass again and smiling when you yelped.
"Promise? This might be our quickest fuck yet." Pressing your thumb to his bottom lip and opening his mouth more, moving to press against his tongue. Reiner closed his lips around your thumb and sucked, releasing with a pop.
"Promise baby, just need to feel you around me before I flood your fucking pussy."
You liked the sound of that, pushing yourself off his chest, leveraging yourself with hands on his thighs, giving him a perfect view of your pussy stretched around his cock, bringing your hand down to your clit, playing with yourself as his cock drove in and out of you.
"M'fuck, that's it, keep going."
Tightly gripping your hips, slamming into you with abandon, his balls tightening and his rhythm faltering. Reiner thrusts, one, two, three more times and slamming you flush on his cock as it twitched with his orgasm. Your cunt fluttered around him with your own, tipping your head back and letting your hand fall to your side, the warming sensation from his cum making you loose and boneless.
So much energy exerted, neither of you bothered to move, but he did bring you back into his chest, letting you rest against him. His phone buzzed from somewhere on the desk, cursing as he leaned forward and fished around for it. Answering the call, Reiner sighed at his assistant on the other end.
"If they can't deliver the documents tonight then don't worry about, bring them to my desk tomorrow morning."
Smiling to yourself as you lay against his shoulder, listening to Reiner go back and forth with the assistant on the phone.
"Colt, listen. I told you not to worry about it, bring them to my desk tomorrow." Quietly muttering 'for fuck's sake' right after he hung up, tossing his phone back onto the desk.
"Did he get lost again?" Questioning Reiner with amusement, still not willing yourself to come off his chest, finding yourself quite comfortable.
"No, he didn't get to the post office before they closed and was freaking out."
"Poor kid."
"Poor me." Shooting back and bringing you off of him, scrunching his nose to the way you rolled your eyes. Carefully disconnecting himself from you, Reiner tucked himself back in and went to retrieve your bra, pulling your skirt back down as you clasped the back.
"Wanna get take out on our way?" Asking as he watched you buttoned your shirt together, sitting on the edge of his desk in front of him.
"On our way where?" Asking back, looping the buttons through the openings with practiced fingers.
"On our way to my place?" Cocking a brow and taking the flash drive you brought out from his computer, shutting down his pc for the night.
"It's a weekday."
"And?" Slamming his briefcase beside you, placing a couple of files and paper work inside, adding the personal belonging he took home everyday. Reiner noticed the way you were smiling like an idiot and batting your eyelashes.
"Breaking our rules, tsk tsk Reiner, I thought this was casual between us." Waving your finger in mock disapproval, biting your tongue when he huffed and shut his brief case.
"Since when have we had rules? We both know this is beyond casual, but if you want to go back to your place and dream about me fucking you nice and slow all night, be my guest sweetheart." Winking and grabbing his phone to slip into his pocket, feeling your thong he stuffed in there earlier. You huffed, slipping off the edge of his desk to put your heels back on, crossing your arms and heading towards the door.
"Where are you going?" Rounding his desk and setting his briefcase by his feet, already knowing.
"Grabbing my stuff and yes I want to get takeout, you're buying."
"Hurry up, offer only lasts for another three minutes." Laughing to himself as you flung the door open and sped walked out of his office, surprised at how well you were doing it in heels.
"God you're such a dick." Calling out after him, making Reiner smile and even blush a little as he waited on you in his office, sneaking a look at your thong before shoving it back in. Tonight was going to be a long one.
i was trying to sleep and this idea popped in my head. needless to say i had to write it out
boyfriend reiner who will wait for you on the couch in your apartment, the tv showing another rerun episode while he wears his grey sweatpants and his college t shirt as you shower, eyes tired from his long day of work.
boyfriend reiner who’s favorite part of coming home being seeing you.
boyfriend reiner who will smile upon seeing you walk out in his oversized shirt and boyshorts, your wet hair splayed over your shoulders as you saunter over to him on the couch, straddling his lap
boyfriend reiner who will place his large, and firm hands on your hips, fingers massaging into your skin as he peppers kisses along your neck, his stubble tickling in the process
boyfriend reiner who will sleepily whisper, “i missed you, baby” as his hands wander down to your ass, giving you a gentle squeeze as his erection pokes your thighs
boyfriend reiner who will then capture your mouth in a passionate kiss, his hands roaming your body while you moan into his mouth, the two of you feeding off one another
boyfriend reiner who would make a small noise at the roll of your hips, your clothed pussy grinding down against his growing erection as you lean forward to kiss his chest, hands splaying along his pecs.
boyfriend reiner who then slips his hand past your stomach, making his way to your panties where he glides his fingers along your outline, his eyes softening as you moan
boyfriend reiner who whispers gentle praises, “so wet for me, babygirl,” and “been thinking of you all day, wanted to touch you so bad.”
boyfriend reiner who then lets you take his cock inside of your pussy, with you being on top of him, dragging your hips up and down slowly on his length, letting his thick cock stretch you out so deliciously
boyfriend reiner who whines as you use him to pleasure yourself, your hips rolling and grinding down onto him as you chase your pleasure, encouraged with his small moans and his voice, “use me, baby, ride my cock,”
boyfriend reiner who then fucks himself up into you, his large hands holding you in place while he kisses your shoulder, easing you into his pace that brings you to your climax.
boyfriend reiner who kisses your forehead after and carries you to bed, his large frame providing you with warmth as the two of you slip off into a satisfied slumber.
