Tags: NSFW, overstimulation, use of vibrator, begging/whining, playful cruelty, light restraints, dirty talk, messy aftercare
masterlist kinktoberlist
Jinx had that look in her eye. The one that meant trouble.
You were lying on her bed, trying to catch your breath after a round that had already left your legs shaky, but she straddled your hips with a manic grin plastered on her face. Her braids swung around her shoulders like mischievous little exclamation points.
“Y’know what’s fun?” she asked, tapping a finger against her lips as if deep in thought. “Seeing how many times I can make you come before you start crying.”
Your eyes widened. “Jinx—”
“Don’t ‘Jinx’ me,” she sang, cutting you off. “I haven’t even started yet!”
She dove under her pillow and pulled out a small, sleek vibrator. She wagged it proudly, like a magician revealing a trick. “Tada! My new favorite toy. Well—” she leaned in close, lips brushing your ear, “—second favorite toy. You’re still number one.”
Before you could react, your wrists were yanked above your head. She knotted them together with a mess of ribbon and rope scavenged from her cluttered room. It was sloppy, sure, but it held. You tested the binds, and Jinx giggled at your useless attempt to fight back.
“Perfect! Now you can’t stop me.”
The toy buzzed to life with a low hum. Jinx’s eyes gleamed as she pressed it to your clit without warning.
You gasped, back arching, and Jinx laughed in delight. “Ooooh, there it is! Already twitching. Gods, you’re easy.”
The first orgasm hit fast, sharp and overwhelming after the day you’d already had. You shook beneath her, crying out as release tore through you. But the toy never moved away.
“Uh-uh,” Jinx teased, applying more pressure. “That was one. We’re not done yet.”
Your thighs trembled, trying to squirm away from the relentless buzzing, but her free hand pinned your hips down.
“Stay still, sugarplum,” she purred, voice dripping with false sweetness. “You’re not going anywhere.”
The second orgasm built even faster, crashing over you in waves that left you breathless, moaning into the air. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you tugged at the restraints, helpless.
“Fuck, listen to you,” Jinx groaned, grinding her own hips down against your thigh. “Crying and whining like I’m torturing you. You love it.”
“Jinx— please— too much—” you gasped, voice cracking.
Her giggle was wild, sharp-edged. “Too much? Or just enough?”
She didn’t stop. The toy circled mercilessly, her commentary chaotic as ever. “That’s three! Gonna make it to five? Ooooh, maybe six if I’m feeling generous. Bet you look so pretty when you break.”
You writhed, sobbing with overstimulation, each orgasm blurring into the next until you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. Your voice was gone, raw from moans and pleas.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Jinx panted, watching you with feral hunger as she rocked against you. “Shake for me. Fall apart. You’re my favorite experiment.”
By the time she finally yanked the toy away, your body was a trembling mess, slick with sweat, chest heaving as you tried to breathe. You collapsed into the mattress, every muscle spent.
Jinx flopped down beside you with a triumphant laugh, tossing the toy carelessly across the room. Her braids tickled your skin as she curled up against your side, clinging to you like a child with a prize.
“See?” she chirped, planting a messy kiss on your jaw. “Told ya it’d be fun.”
Her arms wrapped around you, untying your wrists with surprising care before pulling them to her chest. She pressed kisses to the angry red marks, her manic energy softening just enough to make your chest ache.
“You did sooo good for me,” she whispered, eyes bright and mischievous even as she nuzzled close. “My perfect little mess.”
She giggled again, snuggling into your shoulder. “Round two later, ‘kay? Once I find where that thing landed.”
~Vi is protective to the bone, and when your emotions get overwhelming, her first instinct is to shield you, even if it’s from yourself.
~She doesn’t always understand at first, she grew up learning to shove emotions down, not let them out, but she wants to understand. She listens, she tries, and she learns.
~When you’re afraid she’ll leave, she doesn’t argue. She just pulls you into her arms and says it outright: “Not gonna happen. You’re mine, I’m yours, that’s it.”
~If you spiral into anger, she won’t take it personally. She’ll stand firm, let you vent, and only step in if you cross a line.
~Later, when you’re calmer, she’ll gently joke to lighten the air: “Guess you’re stuck with me, huh?”
~When you’re impulsive, Vi isn’t one to lecture you. She usually goes along with it, but keeps an eye out to make sure you don’t get hurt. “Fine, let’s do it, but if it goes south, I’m pulling you out.”
~If you split (swinging from idealizing her to hating her), Vi doesn’t hold it against you. She’ll let you vent, then wait until you cool off before cracking a joke or pulling you in for a hug.
~She’s protective about people outside the relationship misunderstanding you. If someone says you’re “dramatic,” Vi shuts it down instantly. “Watch your mouth. They’re allowed to feel how they feel.”
Jinx
~Jinx understands emotional intensity because she lives it herself. She doesn’t think you’re “too much”, if anything, she likes that you feel big, because she does too.
~The downside is when your storms overlap. Sometimes she mirrors your mood and it gets messy, but she always circles back with her version of affection, a messy drawing, a silly invention, or curling against you until it passes.
~If you fear abandonment, Jinx can be extra clingy back, wrapping herself around you with a muttered, “Not leaving. Ever. You’re stuck with me.”
~She’ll distract you mid spiral, tossing candy into your mouth, cracking bad jokes, or pulling you into some ridiculous “mission” until you laugh.
~She secretly keeps little notes and doodles for you to find on bad days: “Still love ya. Even when you’re cranky.”
~Jinx will validate your intensity rather than try to “tone it down.” If you’re happy, she’s bouncing with you; if you’re raging, she’s egging you on (then later gently pulling you back).
~She’s surprisingly good at giving reassurance, blurting things like, “You’re not gonna lose me. Even if you tried, you couldn’t get rid of me.”
~When you crash from a high into a low, Jinx doesn’t push. She’ll quietly slip little comforts into your hands (candy, a doodle, a shiny trinket she found), trying to spark a smile again.
Caitlyn
~Caitlyn is patient, steady, and logical, exactly the kind of anchor you need when your emotions feel like a storm.
~She doesn’t dismiss you or minimize what you’re feeling. If you’re upset, she’ll calmly validate: “I can see you’re hurting. Let’s take it one step at a time.”
~She’s big on planning ahead, she’ll keep comforting routines for you (tea, quiet space, warm baths) so there’s always a fallback when you spiral.
~When you fear she’ll leave, she looks you in the eyes and says it firmly, like it’s law: “I will not abandon you. Ever.”
~Cait’s consistency is her gift, she proves with actions, day by day, that she’s not going anywhere.
~Caitlyn is incredible at noticing early signs before you spiral. She’ll gently steer you into a calmer environment before things escalate.
~She often grounds you with physical routine: making tea, brushing your hair, setting a blanket around your shoulders. The familiarity helps stabilize you.
~When you’re self-critical, Cait doesn’t argue with logic alone, she points out specific things you do that she admires. “You’re kind, clever, and stronger than you believe. That’s not up for debate.”
Sevika
~Sevika doesn’t do flowery words, but she shows up, and that reliability becomes your rock.
~If you spiral, she won’t panic. She’ll cross her arms, let you rant, and say something like: “You done? Or you got more?” Not dismissive, but challenging, she refuses to let your brain trick you into thinking you’re unworthy.
~If you fear abandonment, she doesn’t coddle. She’ll just grunt and go, “I wouldn’t still be here if I wanted to leave. Think about that.”
~Her love language is actions: a steady presence, a meal shoved in front of you, a warm arm around your shoulders when you least expect it.
~Sevika is blunt, but she’s also fiercely loyal. When you feel like you’re “too much,” she says flatly: “If I couldn’t handle you, I’d be gone already. I’m still here, aren’t I?”
~If you get impulsive or reckless, Sevika doesn’t scold, she just positions herself at your side so she can step in if things go too far. She’s not judgmental, just watchful.
~She secretly loves your intensity because it matches her own temper. When you’re raw and emotional, she feels less alone in her own rough edges.
Mel
~Mel approaches your emotions with elegance and strategy, not because she doesn’t care, but because she wants to care effectively.
~When you’re overwhelmed, she doesn’t smother you: she draws you close, speaks in low, velvety tones, and makes you feel seen without judgment.
~If you spiral into fear of abandonment, she’ll reassure you with a smile and say: “You are far too precious for me to let go.” And she means it.
~She creates beauty around you as comfort, soft lighting, luxurious touches, little surprises, a reminder that you deserve softness even when your head says otherwise.
~Mel never gets angry at your intensity. If anything, she finds it real, compared to the mask most people wear.
~Mel is endlessly patient in public. If you snap or withdraw in a social setting, she covers for you gracefully, guiding you out without anyone noticing.
~She keeps little gifts for you, trinkets, books, or tokens, to give on your low days. Not because she thinks it’ll “fix” you, but as a reminder: “You’re worth beautiful things.”
~Mel encourages you to embrace your emotions instead of fearing them, framing them as a strength. “You feel deeply, and that makes you powerful.”
Grayson
~Grayson has the patience of a saint. She approaches your emotions the same way she approaches her officers, steady, calm, guiding, never wavering.
~If you spiral, she immediately grounds you with her voice: “It’s alright, love. Breathe with me.” Her tone is so firm, it’s almost impossible not to listen.
~When you’re afraid she’ll leave, she cups your face in her hands, looks you dead in the eyes, and says, “I’m here. I will always be here.” She never lets the fear linger.
~She’s protective of you, if anyone ever mocked or dismissed your emotions, she’d shut it down instantly. “Don’t you dare belittle them.”
~Her presence itself is healing, warm arms, a kiss on your temple, the weight of someone who will not move no matter how hard the storm rages.
Victor
~Viktor understands more than he lets on. He may not have the same struggles, but he knows what it feels like to be dismissed or “too much” for others.
~When you spiral, he doesn’t rush you. He listens, quietly, offering soft reassurances only when you’re ready to hear them. “I am here. That will not change.”
~He gently intellectualizes things, not to dismiss, but to help you break the emotions into smaller, manageable pieces.
~If you fear abandonment, he reassures you with his consistency: always showing up, always keeping his promises.
~On your darkest days, he simply exists near you. Working on his projects while keeping you close, you don’t even need words to feel his care.
Jayce
~Jayce tries so hard. He doesn’t always know the right thing to say, but his heart’s always in the right place.
~When you spiral, his instinct is to fix it immediately, sometimes fumbling, sometimes clumsy, but always caring.
~If you worry he’ll leave, he’ll pull you close, eyes wide and honest, blurting out: “No way. I love you, you’re stuck with me.”
~He tries to distract you with little comforts, food, gifts, or dragging you on a walk to clear your head.
~When he doesn’t know what to do, he asks. “Tell me what helps. I’ll do it. Anything.”
~He’s a natural cheerleader. He’ll list off all the things he loves about you, even if you don’t believe them at the moment.
~If you’re impulsive, Jayce often goes along, then helps you recover if things don’t pan out. He never makes you feel bad for it.
~He openly asks what you need. “Tell me how I can help. Just say it, and I’ll do it.” He’s eager to support, even if he doesn’t always get it right.
Silco
~Silco doesn’t view your intensity as weakness. In fact, he respects it, sees it as the same fire that fuels him.
~When you spiral, he’s calm and commanding, grounding you with his voice: “Control, darling. You are stronger than this chaos.”
~If you fear abandonment, he is direct: “I chose you. That choice does not falter. Do not insult me by doubting it.” It’s firm, but it comes from his own brand of loyalty.
~He can be harsh with others who treat you poorly, protective in a ruthless way. No one gets to weaponize your vulnerability.
~And when it’s just you and him, he allows softness he shows no one else, letting you curl against him as he strokes your hair, whispering, “You are mine. That will never change.”
Ekko
~Ekko is patient and understanding. He knows what it’s like to live with heavy emotions, to feel too much for the world.
~When you spiral, he doesn’t judge. He lets you vent, yell, cry, whatever you need. Then he gently helps you ground.
~If you fear abandonment, he reassures you softly but firmly: “I’m not going anywhere. I’ve lost enough people already. You’re not one of them.”
~He’s good at redirecting your energy into something tangible, working on projects together, painting walls, running rooftops. He turns the storm into movement.
~Ekko balances your intensity with steady affection: quiet hugs, forehead kisses, reminding you that no matter how wild your emotions swing, he’s not going anywhere.
Vander
(Wasn’t allowed to add any more gifs😭)
~Vander is comfort in human form. When your emotions overwhelm you, his instinct is to protect and soothe.
~He’ll sit you down, make you tea or food, and say in his warm, steady voice: “You’re safe here. Nothing’s going to hurt you.”
~If you fear he’ll leave, he cups your face in his large, steady hands and reminds you: “I made a promise. I keep my promises.”
~He has a grounding presence, the smell of tobacco, the warmth of his arms, the simple weight of his hand on your shoulder.
~On the worst days, he doesn’t force conversation. He just sits with you, humming or talking about something small, reminding you that you’re not alone.
The candlelight in Ambessa’s quarters burned low, throwing gold across the carved marble and catching in her armor. She stood near the window, back to you, broad shoulders haloed by the faint shimmer of the city below.
You’d learned long ago that silence was her favorite weapon. It wasn’t her words that left you trembling, it was her stillness. The way she could make you feel small without even turning her head.
“Ambessa,” you started softly. The sound of her name alone felt dangerous on your tongue.
She didn’t answer. The curve of her jaw shifted just slightly, acknowledgement, maybe, but she kept her gaze fixed outside.
You stepped closer. “Please.”
A soft, amused breath escaped her, more like a scoff than a laugh. Finally, she turned, slowly, and the motion alone made your stomach twist. Her eyes swept over you, deliberate and assessing.
“Please what?” she asked, voice a deep, velvety rumble that filled the room.
You faltered. She always did this, made you spell it out. Made you want to.
Your throat worked around the words that wouldn’t come. Ambessa took one step toward you, then another, until the scent of leather, wine, and steel wrapped around you like smoke.
“Begging without purpose is just noise,” she murmured, fingers tipping your chin up. Her touch was firm, gloved, the heat of her skin still seeping through. “If you’re going to beg me, at least have the courage to tell me what for.”
Your breath caught. The power in her voice wasn’t cruel, it was precise. Trained. Every syllable pressed against you like a test.
“I—” The word broke halfway. “I need you.”
Ambessa’s lips curved. “There it is,” she whispered. Her thumb brushed your lower lip, slow, deliberate, as though tracing the shape of your weakness. “Need. Such a soft word for someone who trembles like a warrior before battle.”
You shivered. Her hand dropped from your chin to your throat, not squeezing, just resting there, heavy and sure.
“Again,” she ordered quietly.
“I need you.”
“Louder.”
You obeyed before thinking. “I need you.”
“Better.” Her eyes gleamed. "Come closer"
She let go, and the absence of her touch hurt more than any hold. You swayed a little, desperate to chase it back, but she only smirked, turning her back once more.
You take the step she’s demanding, closing the space inch by inch. The air feels charged, the sound of your breathing far too loud. Her gaze never wavers, tracking every move like a predator gauging distance.
When you reach her, she turns fully to face you. One gloved hand settles at the back of your neck, testing, then guiding. Her thumb strokes lazily at your pulse, feeling how fast it’s racing.
“Steady,” she murmurs, voice a low command. “If you want something, take it properly.”
You try. Gods, you try. But you’re too conscious of her, the sheer size of her, the coil of restraint in her body, the heat of her eyes devouring every breath you take. You reach for her, but your hands hesitate mid air, uncertain where you’re allowed to touch.
That hesitation costs you.
And just as you found the courage to step forward again, she glanced over her shoulder, voice soft and commanding all at once,
“Now, show me how much you mean it.”
————
You take the step she’s demanding, closing the space inch by inch. The air feels charged, the sound of your breathing far too loud. Her gaze never wavers, tracking every move like a predator gauging distance.
When you reach her, she turns fully to face you. One gloved hand settles at the back of your neck, testing, then guiding. Her thumb strokes lazily at your pulse, feeling how fast it’s racing.
“Steady,” she murmurs, voice a low command. “If you want something, take it properly.”
You stepped closer, heart pounding as if trying to warn you, but it was far too late for warnings. Ambessa didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t even blink. She simply watched, eyes dark and patient, like she already knew exactly what you were about to do.
And still, she let you make the choice.
You eased forward slowly, knees brushing against hers before you shifted, carefully, deliberately, into her lap. Her body was solid beneath you, armor cold in some places, warm in others, but her hands were already moving before you fully settled.
One large hand slid over your thigh, fingers splayed possessively, the heel of her palm pressing just enough to remind you who was in control. The other came to rest at your lower back, steadying you, guiding you, holding you right where she wanted you.
Your breath hitched.
Her mouth curved, not quite a smile. “Tell me, sweetheart,” she said, voice low and molten, the kind of voice that curled around your spine and dragged a shiver from it. Her thumb brushed slow circles against your thigh, each pass a little firmer, a little more intentional. “What do you want?”
The words made your stomach flutter, made your pulse stumble. Not because you didn’t know, but because you did. Because in her lap, under her touch, with her eyes pinning you in place like a blade to a throat, honesty felt dangerous.
Still, you tried.
“I…” Your voice came out too soft, breathy, barely more than a tremor. You swallowed and tried again. “I want—”
Ambessa tilted her head just slightly. “Look at you,” she murmured. “Already trembling. We haven’t even begun.”
Her fingers moved higher, slipping beneath the hem of your tunic, the heat of her touch searing into your skin now, rougher pads grazing sensitive flesh with infuriating patience.
“Try again,” she said, and her hand flexed on your thigh, a gentle squeeze that felt more like a leash tightening. “Use your words.”
"I want-", your voice`s quite, almost whispering, " I want you to touch me."
Satisfied with your answer, she hums softly, the corners of her lips curling in approval. Her hands follow soon after, slow, deliberate movements that trace the outline of your body as though memorizing it by touch alone.
You shiver, almost trembling as her fingers reaches your warm cloth, hiding between you thighs. Arousal enhancing your body as all you can think of is her.
"Please Ambessa," you plee, "please touch me more!"
Ambessas fingers continues to trase over your clothed core as a smirk tugs at her lips, eyes tracing over you with deliberate care. She studies you in silence, savoring every inch as though committing her favorite sight to memory. "Good girl."
Heat pools low in your stomach as her mouth moves to your jaw, your throat, teeth grazing teasingly.
“You like teasing me, huh?” Ambessa´s voice is low, rough against your throat. You barely get a word out before she slides her fingers into your slick. A smirk ghosts her lips as she watches you unravel. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
“Fuck,” she breathes, her forehead pressing against yours as her fingers pumps in you in a slow, almost torturing pace. “You’re so wet for me.”
"Mmm, please Ambessa," you whine out, "please more, faster."
You don’t get a chance to say anything more before she pushes one more finger inside, then another, curling just right, just enough to make your hips jerk against her hand.
She pumps harder, faster, circling her thumb against your clit until your hips jolt despite yourself. Her grin widens, sharp and satisfied.
“Listen to you,” she murmurs, pressing a messy kiss to your jaw. “All desperate for me. You wanna come already?”
The pressure builds fast, too fast, your body tightening under her control, breaking you appart. "Please Ambessa, please make me cum." you beg.
All of a sudden her fingers reach a slower pace, like she teases you, questioning if she will let you reach satisfaction. "Mmm you really want that honey?" She chuckles. "I don´t know if I belive you."
Your head tips back with a gasp, the word tumbling out without thought, without hesitation, "Please let me cum, please please please, I really want it!"
That´s all she needs. "Thats my girl."
Your body arches, your fingers dig into Ambessas´bicep, holding her against you as you come apart with a cry. She doesn’t let up, doesn’t stop, working you through every wave, drinking in your pleasure like she’s starving for it.
Only when you’re shaking does she finally slow, pressing one last, lingering kiss to your sensitive skin.
“You’ve learned something tonight,” Ambessa said. “The art of begging is not weakness. It’s honesty, stripped of pride.”
can you do jinx with a shy pillow princess (double ended dildo)
Love this idea! Hope you’ll enjoy!!
Double the trouble
Jinx x Pillow princess! Reader
Smut
Tags: nsfw, double ended dildo, sex toys, dirty talking, dom Jinx
Masterlist
The mattress squeaked under you as Jinx plopped down, a grin stretching across her face like she’d just won the jackpot. Her room was chaos, half finished gadgets scattered across the floor, paint cans tipped over, bullet casings glittering in the dim light. It was messy, loud, overwhelming… just like her.
But your attention snapped to what she pulled from under the bed.
A long, slick piece of silicone dangled from her hands, catching the glow of the neon sign buzzing outside the window. Jinx wiggled it back and forth like it was some kind of party favor, her eyes glinting mischief.
“Ta-da!” she chirped, sing song sweet. “Double the fun, babycakes. Don’t look so shocked, it ain’t gonna bite. I might, though.”
Your breath caught, heat crawling up your neck. You fisted the sheets, trying to look anywhere but at her, but Jinx didn’t miss the way your thighs pressed tighter together.
“Ohhh, that’s cute.” She crawled across the bed, knees digging into the mattress until she was hovering over you, braids brushing against your skin. Her smirk softened into something more dangerous. “My shy little pillow princess.”
The nickname landed like a spark in your chest, equal parts embarrassing and electric. Jinx loved the way you squirmed, her grin widening as she let the toy drag lazily up your thigh.
“That’s okay,” she purred, leaning in until her lips brushed your ear. “You don’t gotta lift a finger. I’ll do all the work. I’ll make it so good you’ll forget your own name.”
You shivered when she nipped at your earlobe, her free hand slipping under your shirt, fingers skating across your stomach with a teasing slowness that left goosebumps in their wake.
Jinx laughed softly, delighted at your reaction. “So nervous, bunny. You’re all stiff, don’t worry, I’ll loosen ya up real nice.”
Before you could reply, her mouth was on yours, hungry, chaotic, full of the kind of energy that left you dizzy. The kiss stole your breath, her tongue brushing against yours as her hand cupped your jaw, holding you in place like she was claiming you.
When she finally pulled back, she was grinning like a devil. “Yeah… you’ll be begging in no time.”
Jinx tossed the toy onto the bed like it could wait, her attention locked on you instead. She straddled your hips, leaning down until her braids brushed your chest, her grin all teeth and trouble.
“Y’know, I love this part,” she murmured, her fingers sneaking under the waistband of your shorts. “The squirming. The whining. The way you try sooo hard not to moan when I haven’t even touched you yet.”
You gasped as her hand slid lower, fingertips brushing the heat between your thighs through thin fabric. The sound made her giggle.
“There it is,” she teased, rocking her hips down just enough to grind against you. “You’re already melting, pillow princess. Makes my job easy.”
Her mouth was on your throat before you could respond, teeth grazing your pulse, tongue leaving a hot trail up to your jaw. She bit down lightly, chuckling at the way you arched into her touch.
When she finally pulled back, she grabbed the toy again, holding it up between you like a trophy. “Now, here’s the fun part. You just lie there and look pretty, and I’ll do all the dirty work.”
She pressed one end of the dildo against her lips, biting down on it for a moment before flashing you a wicked grin. “Mm. Can’t wait to see your face when this is inside you.”
Your breath hitched, cheeks burning hot. You wanted to look away, but Jinx caught your chin between her fingers, forcing you to meet her eyes.
“Don’t hide from me, bunny,” she said softly, though the mischief in her gaze never faded. “I wanna watch every little twitch, every shiver. That’s the best part.”
Her free hand tugged your shorts down in one swift motion, tossing them carelessly to the floor. Her gaze lingered, hungry and unashamed. “Damn. Already wet for me, huh?”
She licked her lips, lowering the toy slowly between your thighs, deliberately brushing against your sensitive skin without pressing in. The teasing made you whimper, and Jinx laughed, biting her lip.
“God, you’re cute when you beg.” She leaned close, whispering hot against your mouth. “Don’t worry, princess. I’ll make it so good you’ll forget all about being shy.”
Jinx shifted lower on the bed, humming some tune only she knew as she slid her own shorts off. Her movements were careless, like she couldn’t be bothered to do anything neatly, but her eyes never left you, wide, hungry, wicked.
“Mm, there we go,” she muttered, hooking one leg over yours to spread you open just enough. She lined up the toy, one end slick with lube she’d smeared across it a moment earlier, the other end pressed teasingly against herself.
Your breath hitched, body tensing. Jinx noticed instantly.
“Aww, don’t go all stiff on me, bunny,” she cooed, leaning forward to kiss your cheek. “It’s just me. You trust me, right?”
You nodded quickly, embarrassed at how your voice caught when you tried to answer.
“Good,” she purred. “Now relax. Let me take care of you.”
She pushed forward slowly, letting the toy slide against your folds, teasing rather than filling you right away. The pressure made you gasp, hips twitching helplessly under her grip. Jinx grinned, biting down on her lip.
“There it is. That sweet little sound I wanted.”
When she finally eased the toy inside, your back arched off the mattress, a moan spilling out before you could stop it. Jinx groaned too as the other end slipped into her, her eyes fluttering shut for half a second before snapping open again to watch you.
“Fuck, yeah… that’s it,” she hissed, rolling her hips experimentally. “God, look at you. Already so good for me.”
Her pace started slow, rocking the toy between you both, every thrust making your body jolt. She braced her hands on either side of your head, braids brushing across your face as she leaned close enough to watch every reaction.
“You like that?” she teased breathlessly. “All you gotta do is lie there and let me ruin you. Easiest job in the world.”
You whimpered, clinging to her arms as the rhythm built, heat coiling low in your stomach. Jinx laughed through a moan of her own, sweat starting to bead at her temples as she drove harder, faster, chasing the sound of your voice breaking under her.
“Fuck, princess—” she groaned, biting at your neck, “—you’re so hot like this. All shy and needy. Bet you’ll be screaming my name in a minute.”
Every thrust sent sparks of pleasure through you, overwhelming, impossible to hold back. Jinx angled her hips just right, and you nearly cried out, your voice caught between moan and sob.
She laughed, wild and delighted, her grin pressed against your ear. “There it is. That’s my girl. Don’t stop now—come on, cum for me.”
The rhythm grew rougher, Jinx’s hips snapping against yours in erratic bursts of speed. Every movement forced the toy deeper, stretching you in a way that made your toes curl and your chest tighten with pleasure.
You tried to stifle the sounds slipping out of your throat, but Jinx wouldn’t allow it, her hand darted down, grabbing your jaw and tilting your face toward hers.
“Don’t you dare hide that from me,” she growled, eyes wide, wild, blue sparks in the dim room. “I wanna hear you fall apart.”
Your moan broke free, raw and desperate, and her grin spread wide, satisfied. “Yeah, that’s it. That’s my good little pillow princess.”
Her body rocked harder, faster, sweat dripping down her neck as she kept her eyes glued to yours. Every thrust dragged another sound from you, your nails clawing at her arms, at the sheets, anywhere you could hold on.
“Fuck, you’re clenching so tight,” she gasped, her own voice cracking into laughter. “You’re close, huh? I can feel it.”
She shifted the angle, the toy pressing right against that perfect spot inside you, and your world shattered. Pleasure ripped through your body in waves, your cry sharp and broken as you arched against her. Jinx groaned at the sight, her hips jerking as she chased her own release, the toy pulling her into the same rhythm that wrecked you.
“God—fuck—look at you,” she babbled through a moan, collapsing against you as her body tensed. “You’re so fucking pretty when you break.”
Your legs trembled, still twitching as aftershocks pulsed through you. Jinx finally slowed, collapsing onto the bed beside you with a breathless laugh. She tugged the toy free carelessly, tossing it across the room where it clattered against a pile of metal scraps.
For a long moment, the only sound was both of you panting. Then Jinx rolled onto her side, propping her head on her hand, watching you with a grin that was somehow both smug and fond.
“Awww, you look ruined,” she teased, dragging her fingers over your cheek. “My poor, shy little bunny. Can’t even talk, huh?”
You mumbled something incoherent, and Jinx cackled, throwing herself onto your chest dramatically.
“God, I love it when you let me break ya,” she whispered against your skin, pressing quick, messy kisses to your jaw, your neck, your lips. “Don’t worry, princess. I’ll put you back together… eventually.”
She snuggled closer, wrapping an arm around your waist, her grin pressed into your shoulder. “Mm. Best toy I ever bought.”
You’d been teasing Vi all day, a sly smile here, a little touch there. You knew exactly what you were doing, and by the time you ended up alone in her room at The Last Drop, she’d had enough.
“Hands. Now.” Her voice was sharp, leaving no room for argument.
Before you could make a clever remark, Vi had your wrists pinned to the bed. A moment later, she tied them securely to the headboard with a strip of red cloth she’d tugged from her pocket, knotting it with ease. She leaned back to admire her work, smirking at the sight of you stretched out, helpless under her.
“Look at you,” she murmured, her fingers trailing down your stomach, stopping just above the hem of your waistband. “So cocky when your hands are free. Not so tough now, huh?”
You pulled at the bindings, not because you wanted out, but because you wanted to hear the sound of her laugh when she realized you weren’t going anywhere.
Vi lowered her face close to yours, her breath hot against your ear. “You don’t get to touch. Not tonight. Tonight, you’re mine.”
Her lips claimed yours with bruising force, and then her hand slid lower, slipping past your clothes, making you gasp against her mouth. The roughness of her calloused fingers contrasted with the softness of your skin, and you couldn’t stop the whine that escaped you.
Vi pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark with hunger. “Yeah, that’s the sound I wanted.” She pressed her palm firmly against you, deliberately slow. “Keep making it for me.”
Her grip tightened, fingers moving with just enough pressure to make your back arch against the mattress. You tugged against the makeshift restraints, wrists aching for freedom, but Vi only grinned wider.
“You look good like this,” she said, her tone low and ragged, like she was half impressed and half-possessive. “All strung up and begging without even saying a word.”
You tried to retort, but it came out as a broken gasp when she rubbed slow circles against you. The sound made her chuckle, rough and warm, and she leaned down to kiss along your throat, teeth grazing just enough to make your pulse jump.
“You’ve been driving me insane all day,” Vi muttered against your skin. “Thought I wouldn’t notice? Those looks, those little touches…” She pulled her hand away suddenly, making you whine at the loss. “If you’re gonna tease me, sweetheart, you better be ready to pay for it.”
Her words hit harder than her hands, each syllable thick with promise. You shifted, testing the knots again, but Vi’s tie held firm. She climbed onto the bed fully, straddling your hips, her weight pinning you down further. From above, she looked like sin incarnate, tousled hair, flushed cheeks, and that dangerous smirk curving her lips.
“Want me to keep going?” she asked, but her tone wasn’t really a question. Her hand had already slipped back down, palming you with a slow, deliberate drag. “Say it.”
Your pride wavered, your body already trembling beneath her. “Please,” you whispered.
Vi hummed approvingly, leaning down until her mouth brushed your ear. “That’s better.”
Her free hand caught your chin, tilting your head so she could kiss you deep, hard, claiming every ounce of air left in your lungs. When she finally pulled back, your lips were swollen, your chest heaving.
“Gods, I love you like this,” Vi rasped, her fingers sliding inside you now, pushing past the edge of restraint into raw need. “Helpless. All mine.”
The cloth around your wrists dug into your skin as you writhed, the sensation of pressure and powerlessness only heightening every movement she made. You tried to buck against her, but she pressed her other hand firmly to your stomach, pinning you down.
“Easy,” she murmured. “I’m not done making you beg.”
You tugged at your wrists again, but the knot didn’t budge. Vi knew her way around restraints, that much was clear, she’d tied you to her headboard with practiced ease, red cloth digging into your skin every time you shifted.
She hovered above you, straddling your hips, eyes half-lidded with heat as she dragged her hand slowly between your thighs.
“You look so fucking good like this,” she rasped, voice rough with want. “All spread out, nowhere to run. You’re mine tonight, got it?”
You nodded breathlessly. “Yes, Vi.”
Her grin widened. “That’s my girl.”
Vi pressed two fingers inside you, slow at first, her calloused skin catching just enough to make your whole body twitch. She set a merciless rhythm, curling her fingers exactly where you needed them. Your back arched, a whimper slipping free, but when you tried to grind against her hand she pulled back.
“Uh-uh.” Her palm flattened against your stomach, holding you down. “You don’t get to rush me. You wanted to play? Then you’ll take what I give you.”
The way she said it, low, commanding, sent heat surging through your veins. She teased you with shallow thrusts, withdrawing every time you felt yourself teetering close to release. Your wrists strained against the binds, desperation clawing at your chest.
“Vi— please, I need—”
She leaned in, mouth at your ear, her breath hot. “Say it properly. Tell me exactly what you need.”
Your face burned, but the ache in your body was stronger than your pride. “I need to come. Please, Vi, let me.”
That earned a guttural groan from her. She kissed you hard, teeth clashing, tongue stealing every sound you tried to make. And then her hand was relentless, thrusting deep, curling just right, her thumb circling your clit until you were falling apart under her.
You cried out, body shaking, wrists pulling helplessly at the cloth as the orgasm crashed over you. Vi didn’t stop until you were gasping, begging her to slow down, pleasure blurring into oversensitivity.
Only then did she ease up, her hand slipping away, leaving you trembling in the sheets. She untied your wrists with quick fingers, massaging the tender skin where the cloth had dug in.
“Did so good for me,” she murmured, kissing along the inside of your wrist before pulling you into her arms. “Knew you could handle it.”
You melted into her, your body still buzzing as she held you close. She tucked your head under her chin, voice soft now, almost shy after the storm she’d unleashed.
“Next time you tease me all day,” she said with a smirk, “just remember how this ends.”
The door to Sevika’s room barely had time to slam shut before she had you against the wall. Her prosthetic pinned both your wrists above your head, the metal cold and unyielding, while her flesh hand wrapped firmly around your throat.
“Thought you could mouth off to me like that?” she rasped, her voice rough, edged with amusement. Her thumb stroked lazily along your jawline, not tightening yet, just reminding you of the power she had. “Cute. But you’re gonna learn how to keep quiet.”
Your heart hammered. The slight pressure already made your breath stutter, your whole body buzzing from the mix of danger and need.
Sevika’s smirk deepened at your silence. “Look at you. Wide, eyed. Squirming already.” She leaned close, her lips brushing yours without giving you the kiss you wanted. “You like this, don’t you?”
You whimpered, the sound muffled against her palm.
“Fuck,” she muttered, almost to herself, then crashed her mouth against yours. The kiss was messy, teeth, tongue, dominance, as her grip tightened on your throat. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make your head spin, to make your chest ache with the need for air.
She squeezed, then released. Squeezed, then released. Each time she let go, you gasped like it was the sweetest relief, only for her to steal it back again.
“Good girl,” Sevika rasped against your lips, her hand sliding down your body. She tugged your clothes aside with little patience, baring skin for her calloused fingers to claim. “Take it for me. Let me hear you choke on it.”
Her thigh shoved between your legs, grinding up against your core. The pressure was relentless, the rhythm unyielding, and with her hand tightening around your throat, every ounce of friction hit twice as hard.
You moaned into her mouth, clinging to her as best you could with your wrists still pinned.
“That’s it,” Sevika groaned, watching your face closely, gauging your limits. Her voice was low, almost reverent. “Struggle for me. You’re fucking perfect like this.”
————
She didn’t give you a chance to answer. Sevika dragged you to the bed, tossing you down like you weighed nothing. Before you could scramble up, she was already on top of you, straddling your hips, her hand back at your throat.
“You don’t get a thing unless I say so,” she growled, grinding her thigh against you. “You understand me?”
“Yes—” The word cracked on your tongue.
Her grip tightened, cutting you off. “Yes, what?”
“Yes, Sevika!”
Her smirk returned, sharp and dangerous. “Good girl.”
She leaned down, kissing you again, deeper this time, as her fingers found their way between your legs. She teased you mercilessly, rubbing slow circles just to hear you whine, tightening her hand at your throat every time your hips bucked too eagerly.
The combination was maddening. Every gasp of air was stolen, every moment of relief taken away. You were caught between drowning in her control and begging for more.
“Look at you,” she whispered, her prosthetic pressing your wrists into the mattress as her flesh hand squeezed your throat. “So desperate. So damn needy. Can’t even breathe without me, can you?”
You shook your head, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. “No,” you rasped when she loosened her grip, just enough for you to answer. “I need you.”
Sevika groaned, her pupils blown wide, and finally thrust two fingers deep inside you. The sudden stretch made you gasp, your back arching, only to be shoved back down by her hand at your throat.
She set a brutal pace, her thigh grinding against you in sync with her thrusts, her mouth hot against your ear.
“Take it,” she growled. “Take it all. Breathe when I let you.”
The world blurred into sensation: her fingers, her hand cutting off your air, the weight of her body pressing you into the bed. Your vision swam, every nerve on fire, every touch magnified until you couldn’t tell if you were moaning or sobbing.
“Come on,” Sevika urged, her voice rough, commanding. “Come for me. Do it. Be good.”
The word good pushed you over the edge. Release tore through you, violent and overwhelming, your whole body convulsing under her grip. You gasped and choked, your orgasm hitting harder than anything you’d ever felt, fueled by the deprivation, the pressure, the control.
Sevika held you through it, not letting up until you went slack beneath her, boneless and trembling. Only then did she ease her hand from your throat, rubbing gently at the reddened skin.
————
“Shit,” she muttered, collapsing beside you with a low groan. She pulled you against her chest, her metal arm holding you steady while her flesh hand rubbed slow circles over your back.
“You did good,” she murmured, softer now, kissing the top of your head. “Knew you could take it.”
Your throat ached, your body limp, but you burrowed into her anyway, soothed by the low rumble of her voice.
Sevika smirked against your hair. “Next time,” she said, “you’ll beg for me to choke you sooner.”
The Last Drop had gone quiet hours ago. Only the ticking of a distant clock and the soft hum of Ekko’s machinery filled the space. He sat at his bench with a lamp haloing his hair in gold, tools scattered like constellations around his hands. You’d told yourself you were only going to say goodnight, yet your pulse already raced as you stepped inside.
He didn’t look up immediately. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“Couldn’t stop thinking,” you said.
That earned a faint smile. He set his wrench aside, wiping his palms on the rag draped across his knee. “About?”
“You.”
That single word changed the air between you. The tension was almost audible, the steady tick of his timepiece suddenly matched your heartbeat.
“Dangerous answer,” he murmured, rising.
When he reached you, the scent of ozone and copper wrapped around you. He brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, calloused fingertips lingering against your skin. “You know what happens when you say things like that?”
“I find out?”
He chuckled, quiet and rough. “Exactly.”
With a gentle push, he guided you back until you felt the edge of his workbench against your hips. His thumb drew slow circles at the base of your throat. The touch wasn’t rough; it was measured, exploratory, like he was cataloguing every reaction.
“You trust me?”
You nodded.
“Then breathe.”
He slid a knee between your thighs, just contact, pressure, the friction of fabric against fabric. His body heat radiated through the thin space that remained. You exhaled shakily, he inhaled, catching the sound.
“That’s it,” he whispered. “Let go of everything else.”
The rhythm he built was unhurried, controlled, as though he was winding one of his own inventions, testing resistance, watching gears align. Every subtle shift of muscle drew a soft sound from your throat. Each time, he paused long enough for you to catch your breath before starting again, deeper, slower.
Your hands found the front of his vest, bunching the fabric. Overwhelmed from the delightful sensation arousing between your thighs. “Ekko—”
“Keep your eyes on me.” His voice was quiet command, threaded with warmth. “You move when I move.”
The world narrowed to that, the press and slide, the warmth of his skin through cloth, the faint scrape of metal against the bench when his hand tightened for balance. The scent of sweat and steel hung heavy between you. His lips brushed your temple, not a kiss, a measurement of your trembling.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, and the word made your chest ache.
The tension wound higher until the edges of your thoughts blurred. You heard the clock somewhere behind him strike once, twice. Ekko’s breath hitched, his hands steadied your hips as though he’d reached the point where precision mattered most.
“Ekko—” You broke on the edge of his name as pleasure crashed through you, your orgasm tearing free with a desperate cry.
He worked you through it, slowing only once you were limp against his thigh.
Then stillness. The kind that feels louder than any sound.
When he finally moved again, it was only to hold you, forehead against yours, both of you breathing hard, the smell of oil and ozone replaced by skin and salt. You felt the tremor in his arms when he laughed softly.
“Guess neither of us is sleeping tonight,” he said.
You smiled against his shoulder. “Worse ways to pass the time.”
He hummed in agreement, pulling his coat from the stool beside the bench and wrapping it around both of you. The fabric was rough, warm, smelling faintly of smoke and the city. For a long while you stayed like that, swaying gently to the pulse still beating through him, the machines forgotten.
