ya mama

i dump fics i like here | 20 | unhinged nigga

[mister-random]

This is based/inspired by the last fraction of this fanfic, he's not flashing his d (Or does he? MMMMH) read the fanfic for context: Pin Cushion

And also, if you like Hazard, the writer ( @morningsharksworld ) has a lot of PEAK content of him, so enjoy 👍

[kiwi-on-ice]

Kinktober 2024 day 11: Face sitting with Mauga

fem reader, NSFW 18+

Also contains: implied chubby reader, pussydrunk mauga lmao

"Waddya mean y'scared?" your lover asks, booming voice echoing around your bedroom as he looks at your with his brow furrowed.

The burning shame of embarrassment claws its way up you as you glance down. The truth is, as soon as Mauga mentioned you sitting on his face, you felt apprehensive about the prospect. The worry of crushing his head, of causing him discomfort all in the name of your pleasure was something that terrified you. But alas, you had no idea how eager he was to have your cunt on his face, let alone how bewildered he was at your sudden shyness.

"Hey now..." he gets up from the bed, walking over to you and tilting your chin up, "Don't look away, just tell me what's in that head of yours."

"I guess i'm just scared i'll...crush you."

He blinks at you for a moment before bursting out laughing, a throaty laugh as he shakes his head. "Oh doll, you crushing me?"

You huff and look away, but he tightens his grip on your chin and pulls you back. "Oh c'mon, look at me! I'm not exactly a scrawny man princess. You couldn't crush me, or hurt me for that matter, even if you tried."

Despite the growing arousal between your legs, you still feel nervous, worrying your lip between your teeth before he hums. Gently, he moves his hand down to cup your clothes pussy beneath your dress, smirking at your choked whine.

"See? I think she likes the idea of being on top of my mouth." he teases, stroking his huge fingers around your clothed core, feeling your wetness.

Before you can reply, he lifts you up like you weigh nothing before ripping your panties with little effort. He then lays down and positions you above his face, his hair splayed out on the pillows.

"Now princess, you take a seat and get that delicious pussy on my mouth."

At his embarrassing and arousing words, you nod and tentatively lower yourself down on him, biting back a squeal when you feel him eagerly lap at your cunt. Your thighs shake a little, before he wraps his arms around them and roughly pulls you down all the way, so you're properly sitting on his face. The result is instant for both of you as you cry out, and he lets out a deep groan against your clit, sending shivers up your spine.

He eats you like a man starved, tongue lashing at your folds before prodding at your hole, tasting you. You moan, bucking forward experimentally so his nose catches your clit. The sensation feels amazing, so you repeat it over and over, eyes fluttering shut.

Moaning against you once more, he moves his head from side to side quickly, eager to get every inch of you with his tongue before he focuses on your clit. He teasingly spells his name on your throbbing bud, before sucking it gently just to feel your shiver. Clearly he's in heaven, tasting his girlfriend on top of him, sat on his face like a throne.

"That's it baby, use my face." he speaks against you, before encouraging your movements with his hands grabbing your ass. You tangle your hands in his hair and moan, any anxiety you had leaking out of your ears as the pleasure blossoms between your thighs. Riding his tongue, you move over and over again, time blurring together as you experience the new sensation.

Finally you get close, stuttering out a warning which serves to intensify Mauga's actions, eating you fully and completely, determined to feel you cum. And that you do, finishing in his mouth with a desperate moan, hips stuttering. But he doesn't stop, determined to drink up all your juices as he slurps against your soaked cunt. The noises that come from between your legs would surely make the devil blush as you squirm, not sure whether to buck away from the feeling or grind down against it.

"Y'can give me one more." he slurs against your pussy, gasping for air before going back to his motions.

You're unsure if you can, but you realise you have very little choice as Mauga thrusts his tongue inside your needy hole yet again, moving your hips over his face like a rag-doll. With a cry, you surrender yourself to the sensations, one hand still in his hair while the other finds support on the headboard. Your eyes almost cross as he licks you towards another orgasm.

"Yeah, yeah give it to me." he mumbles against your clit, sucking it and moaning as you cum for a second time on his face, chest heaving to catch your breath. He gently removes you, bringing you down to his level on the bed as you cuddle against him.

"That was hot doll, you gotta do that every time now."

[letternotekisses]

overwatch men react to you pulling their boxers down w/your teeth 🫦

Mauga enjoys it probably a tad too much, smiling at you lasciviously, his sharp canines glinting in the low light as you grip the elastic in between your teeth. By the time you’re done he’s already hard and pulsing against your cheek. Better get to work on finishing what you’ve started, sweetheart.

Junkrat gets overexcited. He’s a jittery mess before you’ve even dropped to your knees. When you do finally drag his boxers down, his cock stands to attention almost comically fast and he’s impatiently leaning down to grope at you, growling in your ear that he just can’t wait darl—

Lucio freezes up for a minute like you’ve shocked him, his mouth open like a guppy. He’s rigid and uncharacteristically quiet, until he’s shaking a pleased shiver out of his shoulders. Damn, that was hot.

Hanzo lights up in a furious blush that coats his magnificent cheekbones. There’s a scoff on his lips that says this behaviour is uncouth, but the raging hard on he’s sporting says otherwise.

Reaper lets out an interested grunt, before settling a clawed gauntlet on top of your head. He thumbs your forehead in a faux gesture of romance, guiding your lips to the engorged flesh of his cock. Better get to work if you want to earn his favour, sweetness. Party tricks like that won’t woo him so easily!

Cassidy is all too pleased, chewing on the end of a cigar as you busy yourself. He hums, the cherry of his cigar wafting smoke sensually into the air before he stubs it out to give you his full attention, thumbing your cheek as you part your lips for him. You look so darn pretty like that, sugar.

Genji is pleasantly surprised. Your eagerness is what turns him on more than anything, so watching you drag the elastic of his boxers down to kiss up his cock like it was the best thing you’d ever held had him a little dizzy with want.

Roadhog lets out a gruff, breathy laugh. He cocks his head down at you, the sweet little thing rubbing and licking at him through his boxers, whining up at him. He’ll indulge you, just the once, let’s see if you can take it all in one go this time.

Lifeweaver watches you patiently with a knowing glint in his eyes. Exhaling softly when you pull him out of his boxers and rest his cock against your cheek. A cheeky little thing, aren’t you? Although, Niran finds that two can play at this game, and soon enough he’s dragging your panties down with his teeth intent on eating you out until you’re crying his name.

Baptiste is all smiles. He lays the charm on real thick, but it falters a little once you lick and suck your way around his v-line, grasping the elastic of his boxers between your teeth and letting it snap back against his skin playfully. Keep it up and he’s putty in your hands, rest assured he’ll get you back for it, though.

Sigma finds the presence of you under his desk a comfort while he works. He’s familiar with it when you tug his underwear away, eager to warm him with your mouth. Siebren keeps his cool, but there’s always a delighted shiver that climbs his spine, twitching against your lips at the very thought of you down there, between his thighs.

Reinhardt gets overeager, his abdominal muscles flexing as he strains against the primal urge to abuse his superior strength, to pick you up and absolutely ruin you. It’s worth the wait, though. As you look so pretty, lathing your tongue over his heavy cock as it rests on your face. He fights to be gentle with you - he doesn’t want to break you, well, not until you’re well and good and all stretched out first.

Ramattra doesn’t necessarily wear boxers, but he’ll let you lavish the wires in his hips. Pluck at them with your teeth all you want, little human, you couldn’t make a dent. Ramattra will let you have your fun, but it won’t save you from being ravaged by him later on ;)

Doomfist quirks a brow and smirks at you before placing a heavy, warm hand on the back of your head to guide your movements. You’re eager to please, and it’s what he loves about you. That, and the fact that you look so gorgeous speared upon his cock, clearly too big for you to take, but you’ll try for him anyway, won’t you?

[twiixr4kidz]

Hey I hear you do Ramona's Evil Exes x Reader so I have a Request I don't know if anyone ask this but the Evil Exes Reaction to their S/o wearing their clothes I got this idea from a boyfriend scenario on Wattpad and I thought it might be cute🥰

sorry it took so long to get to this :( i went on a hiatus and got caught up with a lot of asks so i'm finally getting around to finishing them all. hope this was worth the wait!!

matthew patel:

okay, we know mattie.

he's obsessed with literally everything you do and this is no different

when he sees you in his clothes, he MELTS

literally merges with the floor

"hey babe....... you uh, you look really, uh, you-"

he cannot get a proper sentence out of his mouth but just know he's going to be thinking about this FOREVER

lucas lee:

tch, whatever

just kidding HELLO O___O

at first he wasn't paying attention, but now.......

he's a pretty big guy so his clothes probably hang off of you

he acts very nonchalant about it but even the coolest skater boys have their weaknesses

this is his

he gets so handsy you're going to have to reprimand him

todd ingram:

this motherfucker gets so flustered

literally makes eye contact with you and he's STUNNED

"i see you went through my closet, huh?"

he will not stop staring at you

literally boring holes through your body because oh my GOD you look incredible

he's going insane

roxie richter:

"god DAMN!!!!!"

insert whistling noise

she will not stop complimenting you

insists that you keep whatever you're wearing because "it looks SOOOO much better on you!!!!!!"

also gets very handsy with you

in simplest terms, she's feeling you up

you're way too hot to keep her hands off of

you're a magnet and she's a bag of nails :3

kyle katayanagi:

"woah, hello there"

he's in deep thought

deep, DEEP thought

he's going to tease the shit out of you for this

but don't mistake that as him not enjoying it

he's eating it UP

ken katayanagi:

he doesn't say anything immediately

like he takes notice, but he's silent

sort of just smirks to himself

if you want any sort of reaction, you're going to have to point it out

"notice anything different?" "of course i did hun, you know i'm very attentive"

okay now that you've pointed it out, he's going to be annoying about it

constant teasing, "looks like somebody missed me"

gideon graves:

it takes a little for him to notice

"oh, nice shirt," he says, completely unaware of the fact that it's his shirt

actually it's the smell that makes him realize LMFAO

he wears a very specific cologne and when you walk by smelling like it, he's like "OH HELLO????"

slides over in his silly little desk chair, wraps his arms around your waist, and buries his face in your side

"never stop doing that" he mumbles

god he's so CUTE I LOVE HIM

[redr0sewrites]

Viktor general romance hcs!

🥀A/n: HES SO POOKIE I LOVE HIM‼️

🥀Cw: fluff, smut, slight angst if u squint, switch!viktor

🥀minors dni with the nsfw portion

sfw:

this man is such a workaholic, he genuinely never thought that he would fall in love

viktor is very inexperienced in the romance department, so he's definitely a little awkward at first

once he's close with someone, he definitely starts to open up to them a lot more! he'd really appreciate a partner that he can have deep, philosophical conversations with and definitely asks for your opinion on a lot of things

your a very valuable person in his life, and viktor makes sure that you know that. while he may not be great with words, his actions show that he truly cares for you

while he may not admit it, viktor loves when you complete acts of service for him or help him at all. he loves when you visit him in the lab and bring him some coffee, it always makes his day

because he works so much and spends so much time in the lab, viktor will often invite you to join him there. you two often spend hours together, just sitting in near-silence and working in tandem. viktor would love it if you got along well with jayce (and sky too but mostly jayce), you are his favorite people and he would love it if you all got along

viktor isn't the most cuddly person in the world, but he makes some exceptions for you! after a long day, he loves just melting into your embrace and having you play with his hair. viktor would spend hours just laying in your lap and rambling about hextech if he could

he's not big on pda, but he loves holding your hand. viktor holds your hand anywhere and everywhere, he always wants you as close to him as possible and he'll sometimes trace words into the back of your hand with his thumb when you are asleep. before he said "i love you" out loud, viktor probably traced it against your skin at least a million times.

viktor prefers to stay in for dates, and definitely enjoys staying up late with you. idk if they have television in the world of arcane, but it seems a little shocking that they can have giant magical teleportation portals and literal magic orbs and magic flying blimps and body enhancing drugs but haven't created a tv. so like. lets just pretend they do have television. cuz if they do, than you and viktor DEFINITELY have movie marathons and movie nights together

he loves making you little trinkets and gifts!!! whenever there is extra material leftover at the lab, viktor's first thought is to make something for you! he once made you an entire bouquet of fake flowers out of scrap metal, and told you that he would love you until the flowers withered (it would never wither cuz its made of metal ☹️). your home is practically overflowing with these little trinkets, but you REFUSE to get rid of any of them (i think i saw the flower scenario on a tiktok, but URGRHRHRH i wanna write it so... if anyone is interested... 😇)

honestly, the best time spent with viktor is in the comfort of your own home. you have a very domestic relationship, and he likes sitting with you in comfortable silence.

he'll call you pet names in zaun, even before you two are together😭

overall, viktor is genuinely such a sweetheart once he trusts you and will stay by your side no matter what

nsfw:

SWITCH LEANING SUB 🫵🫵🫵

because of his leg and overall sickness, viktor definitely prefers simpler positions that don't require a lot of physical stress

he likes having you on top of him so that he doesn't have to put pressure on his knee, and he definitely prefers not having to push himself too hard

i'd say his favorite positions would probably be you riding him, sitting on his face, lotus position, and maybe 69 or missionary too (but the last two are only on good days when he isn't in too much pain)

at first, viktor was insecure about sleeping with you because he genuinely does not think very highly of himself and didn't want you to think that he was weak or ugly :( please reassure him

ON THAT TOPIC!!! PRAISE!!!!!!

praise is literally SO important to him, while it is one of his kinks i genuinely think he appreciates it outside of the bedroom as well.

lots and lots of communication. "is this ok", "can i touch you here", type of stuff. he's very gentle with you, and obviously you are with him as well

because he wears his leg brace literally all the time, viktor has a handful of bruises and scars from the brace rubbing against his skin 24/7 (idk if he sleeps w it on tbh- im assuming not but u get the point) and he can be a little insecure about them. PLEASE kiss them and show his body a lot of affection in general

viktor isn't super vocal at first, but once he trusts you he lets out the neediest whines and moans. he curses a lot under his breath, and he has a verrryyyyy pretty fucked-out expression.

this man is a switch 100%. most of the time he subs and bottoms, but sometimes he'll dom from the bottom and very occasionally he'll dom from on top. when he's a sub i definitely see him as, like, the male version of a pillow princess. he definitely just wants to lay back and get taken care of, and will get very pouty if you do not do so. he loves being pampered and praised and he's SOOO sensitive when he's subbing. when he's in a more dominant mood, i see him getting off on your pleasure a lot more than his own. he loves fingering you, and definitely loves overstimulating you

viktor loves being marked and also marking you. he bites down on your shoulder a lot to muffle his moans, and he loves giving you hickeys. i genuinely think that's another one of his kinks as well

TOYS!!! im sorry but this man definitely has an extensive collection of sex toys you can't tell me im wrong bc im not. he isn't inexperienced by any means, but he probably got a lot of toys over the years because he just didn't really have that many partners and just wanted to try a bunch of things on his own yk? anyways, he fucking LOVES using them on you and teasing you mercilessly is definitely part of your guys' foreplay

this man has the most gorgeous hands and definitely puts them to good use‼️ you cannot tell me viktor does not have amazingly skilled hands bc your wrong. he literally does jayce told me

i don't think he's super vanilla but i also don't think he's into like SUPER hardcore bdsm? i think it would intrigue him but he's probably the type to be into what you are into and if you want to try something new, he's more than willing (as long as its safe. either of you getting seriously hurt is a major nono for him). that being said, i don't think he'd mind being handcuffed or experimenting a bit with shibari, but you guys DEFINITELY have a safeword. like even if you have 100% vanilla soft sex he still establishes a safeword with u and makes sure your comfortable.

overall, his kinks include: praise (giving and receiving), little bit of edging (receiving), overstimulation (only giving), marking, and kind of a wildcard but also maybe somnophilia. like he would NOT complain about waking up to head lmao- he's def the type to have wet dreams i want to write this omg

i am so! tired!!! still feeling very crappy but i am pushing through my classes until the end of the year 😭 i am so close and yet so far 🙂‍↕️

ANYWAYS HOPE U ENJOYED!!! FEEL FREE TO SEND IN ARCANE REQUESTS!!! ive also been on a huge jayce x viktor streak lately? im not usually a big shipper but their dynamic intrigues me. i want to put them in a jar together and shake them around a bit. but yea i love them both!!!

[royallynasty]

They went ice skating.

Jayce busted his ass.

[illusioninfnty]

day 15 ; keeping quiet

↠ billy loomis x reader x stu macher

fandom: scream word count: 3.9k warnings: nsfw 18+, gf!billy and stu, DUBCON, semi-public sex, homoerotic undertones, mentions of gore, cheating, degradation, dirty talk, thigh fucking, double penetration, knife play if you squint, gagging, unprotected sex, creampies, cumplay, cum eating, fingering, my stu bias definitely shows sorry guys

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

You weren’t really much of a party person, and all of your friends were aware of that. It was why none of them gave much resistance to the idea of you slipping away.

Stu’s house was insanely crowded, more than his usual parties. It was obviously because of the recent killing spree by the mysterious masked killer who had yet to be caught. Your general anxiety in loud spaces mixed with that of the unknown killer running around had you even more paranoid.

“Be careful!” Sidney calls out and Tatum waves as you make your way up the staircase. You send a small smile back as you weave your way through drunk teenagers stumbling all around, looking for more drinks.

You’ve been in Stu’s house plenty of times, having been friends with him for years at this point. You make a beeline straight for his bedroom, hoping that no one was in there hooking up so you could have a quiet place to decompress. 

You knock loudly on his door, pressing your ear against it as the loud music and teens make it hard to hear inside. There’s no answer to your knowledge, and you slowly peek your head in.

No one is in the room, and you breathe a sigh of relief. You shut the door behind you and plop down on Stu’s bed, laying yourself out in a heap of exhaustion.

A bang from somewhere inside the room startles you, making you jump up from your seat. You notice that Stu’s closet door is slightly ajar, and figure that something inside fell down. You make your way over, the closet creaking as you open it.

A gasp leaves your lips and you step back after seeing what it was that fell.

It was one of the ghostface masks. 

You slowly back away, eyes wide in disbelief with what you were seeing. No. It wasn’t possible, right? Stu couldn’t have been the killer; it made no sense. You bend down and cautiously pick up the mask.

It looks like your average store-bought cheap costume accessory. You inspect it closer, but bring a hand up to your mouth and almost drop the mask when you see what’s stained on it.

Small flecks of blood, all spattered across the edges.

The sound of the door creaking has you throwing the mask back into the closet and slamming the door, chest heaving as you pretend as though you weren’t searching through it.

In walks Stu, his trademark grin spread wide across his face. 

“Now what are you doing in here?” he teases suggestively and wiggles his eyebrows. He closes the door and leans against it.

But clearly you’re not very good at hiding your emotions, because the smile instantly drops from Stu’s face. “Have you been…snooping in my things?”

You bite your lip and can feel your heart drop in your chest. “What? No! I just came in here to rest.” Your voice sounds incredibly shaking and you know there’s no way he’s buying it.

Stu’s eyes narrow, and he stalks closer to you. You back away in return, but his long strides make it difficult to put distance between the two of you. “I think you’re lying to me.”

He utters out your name in a warning tone. At this point, you know, he knows you know, and you know he knows you know that he’s the Ghostface killer. You make a feeble attempt to duck past Stu and make a run for it, but he grabs your arm and pulls you against his chest, completely restraining you.

You try your best at escaping. You pound on his chest, wiggle in his grip, and even try biting him. That fails miserably and Stu slaps his large palm against your mouth, preventing you from screaming for help.

He drags you over to the bed, and you start to kick your heels against his legs. You aren’t sure what he’s capable of anymore. Is this the moment you die? Is Stu going to kill you? You let out a choked sob underneath his palm, clawing at his hand but to no avail.

You push back against him with all of the force of your body, yet Stu remains solid. “Be quiet,” he mutters in your ear. 

And then you feel it. On your backside, you can feel Stu getting hard. You whimper in fear, and your body goes limp. But he clearly notices that you could feel it, and he chuckles darkly.

“Got me excited with all that struggling, babe.” He shamelessly rubs himself against you, his erection fully hard beneath his pants now.

Despite the terror that you feel in that moment, you couldn’t help but moan silently.

You would be lying if you said you never thought of hooking up with your friend. Stu was hot, he was funny, and if Tatum was a reliable source, he also had a huge dick.

If fucking Stu could save you from death, you would gladly let him use you however he wished.

You quickly concoct a plan in your head—a lame one, but a plan—to seduce Stu in an attempt to hopefully convince him not to kill you afterwards.

Before you can even attempt to put your plan into action, the bedroom door creaks open. “Shit,” you hear Stu mutter under his breath. Both you and him turn together, and in walks Billy, sauntering as he usually does.

He pauses and raises an eyebrow as he surveys the position you and Stu are in.

“Did I interrupt something?” Billy smirks, his eyes going dark. You look up through your eyelashes at Stu, who presses you closer to him, as if warning you not to signal for help. He shakes his head at Billy.

“She knows, man.”

Your body goes completely rigid in Stu’s grip. A chill runs down your spine.

Billy was involved in this Ghostface shit too? Well, that actually surprised you less than Stu. Billy was kind of a horror junkie in secret, even rivaling Randy, and he always had this strange look in his eye whenever he thought no one was looking.

His eyes narrow and his jaw clenches. “Oh?” 

The tone in his voice is sinister, much different than what you’ve heard from him before.

He strides over, pulling out a knife from his pocket and holding it out towards you.

You shriek, but it comes out all muffled. You try to tilt your head away from where Billy points the knife to your chin, but Stu keeps his hand solid, forcing your head forward.

He clicks his tongue at you, teasing you for your failed attempts to escape.

“I really didn’t want to kill you now, sweetheart, but I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

Tears gather in your eyes, threatening to fall. You still helplessly struggle against Stu’s grip, choking back sobs. You so desperately want Stu to release his hand, want to beg the two of them to keep you alive. You’re two seconds away from sounding like you belong in a bad porno that the boys rent from the video store where the woman says please! I’ll do anything!

But you don’t need to do any of that. Because before Billy starts slicing and dicing and stabbing at you. He backs away and looks Stu up and down. He then barks out a laugh.

“What, did chasing her around get you all stiff?”

Stu grins cheekily and grinds his erection up against your butt. You let out a surprised moan under his palm, grabbing onto his forearm. “You know I’ve always wanted to fuck her, man.”

Billy eyes shift between you and Stu, before pausing on you. A smirk slowly grows across his features until it morphs into a toothy grin. You can see the way his cock begins to twitch in his jeans and your heart sinks into your stomach.

“I’m not going to let you fuck her alone tonight.”

As if Stu was waiting this whole time for Billy’s approval, the hand that was restricting your mouth moves off and down to his jeans. Before you can even think about opening your mouth, Billy brings the knife back up your face, right under your chin forcing you to keep your mouth closed and head tilted up to meet his eyes.

“If you say a word I’ll cut your throat open and stick my cock in it.” He imitates the motion of slicing the knife across your throat. 

You swallow harshly and can’t control the way you tremble under Stu’s hold. But the depraved part of you has your core throbbing, at the carnal lust that fills his eyes, so desperately wanting them both to get to fucking you sooner rather than later. 

Scoffing in his face, you try your best to put up a calm front. “Are you guys all bark and no bite? All I hear is talking but no action.”

“Oh you’ll be getting action soon, baby.” You can feel Stu’s erect cock rubbing against your backside and the way that his arousal stains your shirt. His hand holds it at the base as he guides it between your legs, slowly fucking you between your thighs. You look down to see the bulging red tip of his cock leaking beads of precum as it penetrates the plush skin of your legs with every thrust.

Billy takes his knife and slices your skirt right down the middle, the two pieces falling to shreds at your feet.

“Yeah, there it is!” Stu yells as his long fingers poke and prod at your pussy through your underwear until it soaks the fabric through. “All nice and wet for us now.”

He moves the material to the side of your puffy lips and without so much as a warning sticks his cock right inside.

“Oh fuck,” you moan out as quietly as you can with the intense pleasure. It slides in easily with how wet you’ve gotten over the past couple of minutes. You arch your back into Stu as his long cock bullies its way inside of you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

Stu begins thrusting immediately, the sounds of your skin slapping together being the loudest thing in the room.

“Such a dirty little slut,” Stu’s voice teases, laughter evident in his tone. His arm around your waist holds you up as he pounds into you at lightning speed, bouncing you up and down his cock. Your feet lift off the ground ever-so-slightly as he pulls you up. “But I guess I’m kind of a slut to. Always wanted to fuck you like this.”

Through your lust-filled haze, you can see Billy stroking himself through his boxers, jeans already unzipped and pulled down. He stares at both you and Stu and where the two of you connect. 

“You gonna join man?” Stu lifts you up under your thighs. The action lifts your feet up in the air and exposes your pussy directly in Billy’s line of view. Stu pulls his cock out enough so just the head remains inside, and starts fingering around your lips.

You gasp at the sensation, your arms gripping his own and your walls clenching down desperately onto him. Stu’s fingers make a v shape and pull your lips open wide. “There’s plenty of room for you in here.” 

“N-no!” You sob out, clawing at Stu and kicking your legs. The implication is not subtle at all, and the fear has you clenching even tighter onto him. There was no way that you could fit both of them in your pussy. Stu’s cock is already thick and fills you completely; you don’t think you could take another one without breaking.

Billy continues to palm himself above his underwear, the head of his cock poking out from the elastic band. “Fuck yeah, now your speaking my language!”

“No! Billy!” You shake your head wildly, tears threatening to fall from your swollen eyes. “Stop! It won’t fit!”

He rolls his eyes and takes his hard cock out of his boxers, pumping it with a few solid strokes. “Stop complaining.” 

“He’ll make it fit,” Stu giggles from behind you.

A strangled sound leaves your lips, a mix between a choke and a sob. You’re powerless in Stu’s hold as he moves your limbs every which way he pleases. He never lets up in his thrusts, his stamina completely insatiable, and it doesn’t feel like he’s stopping any time soon.

You have no choice but to lay helpless as Billy guides his cock into your wet hole, pushing against Stu’s. The stretch from the two of their massive lengths is painful, and you bite the outside of your hand as an attempt to soften your cries.

“Fuck,” Billy moans, slotting himself fully inside of you. His eyes squeeze shut and his head is thrown back in pleasure. Your hands press against his chest to stabilize yourself. 

Your eyes roll back as you start moaning audibly, his cock stuffing you full alongside Stu’s. 

“None of that.” Billy slaps a hand over your mouth and digs his fingers into your cheek. “If any one of those sleazebags outside hears those moans I’ll have to kill them and fuck you over their dead body.”

His voice is deep, gravely, and completely serious—you believe him in his entirety. You nod rapidly under his hold. You don’t want the death of anyone to be on your hands, no matter how annoying they are.

“Good. Now stay quiet.”

Billy and Stu take turns fucking themselves up into you. They give you any chance for a break, when one pulls their length almost completely out, the other shoves it in. They take turns pounding themselves into you. Your walls clench hard around them, being stretched to the brim. It takes all your power not to cry out from the pain and pleasure, but the fear from Billy’s unpredictably overpowers all other emotions. 

Billy seems to be caught up in the haze of his own arousal, fingers digging in the skin of your hips as he thrusts his cock in and out of you rhythmically. He groans. “Forgot what it’s like to fuck a tight, wet hole. Sidney still hasn’t put out yet.”

Your body instantly freezes at Billy’s words. In the midst of all the chaos that involved finding out that two of your friends were active serial killers, both of them have been wanting to fuck you, and both of them actually proceeding to fuck you, you were ashamed to admit that you completely forgot about your the rest of your friends downstairs. Sidney and Tatum, two of your closest friends, were partying just below you and were blissfully unaware that you were in fact not resting from the partying, but instead getting your hole absolutely destroyed by their boyfriends just a couple hundred feet away.

The reality of your situation comes back to you and the dread starts to sink in. Instinctively, you begin thrashing your body all around, causing as much commotion as you can. Your nails end up scratching Stu on his arm. “Ow!” he whines out, but it’s a cross between a whimper and a turned on moan. He bites your neck in retaliation. “I like ‘em feisty, you know. Really gets my dick goin’.”

Billy, on the other hand, doesn’t take your failed act of defiance so lightly. His hand reaches up and squeezes your cheeks as he pulls your face close to him, not letting up with the pistoning of his hips.

“Not. A. Word.” Every syllable is spoken individually, heavily gritted out through clenched teeth. At that moment, an array of muffled voices is heard right outside the bedroom door. Billy and you turn to the source of the noise at the same time. Billy turns back to you first. “You know what happens if they walk in,” he trails off darkly, and out of the corner of your eye you can see the glint of his knife as it rests on the side table, within an arm's reach from him. If he wanted to, he could easily slip himself out of you and kill the unsuspecting partygoers within mere seconds.

He buries himself back inside of you as you say that, the two of their cocks fighting for their spots inside of your restrictive walls. Billy and Stu moan in unison at the feeling, both of you gripping onto them and the way they feel pressed up against each other.

As hopeless as your situation may seem in the end, you try to make due with what you have and not let the guilt consume you. There’s nothing you can do about it now unless you want multiple people to wind up dead. It’s fairly easy to erase your mind of anything other than the two guys currently surrounding you, whose relentless thrusts make your vision go white and limbs go numb.

Stu attaches himself onto your neck, no doubt leaving a trail of hickeys that’ll last for days. You lean your head back into him, giving him more access to the area. His long tongue licks all around the area, sending shivers down your spine.

His mouth eventually makes its way up to your own and Stu covers it, kissing you with great fervor. His tongue slides into your mouth, swirling it around with your own tongue. The kiss is sloppy and uncoordinated, but it feels perfectly like him. It’s intimate as he massages your tongue and brings his hand up to cup your jaw. In that single moment, you can pretend like your new revelation didn’t exist and that this is just a sensual moment between you and your friend, who’s kissing you like his life depends on it.

But that’s not the case, as Billy brings you back to reality once again. He spanks your ass which has you gasping into Stu’s mouth and your eyes opening wide.

Spit dribbles out the side of your mouth as Stu finally lets up, moaning into your jaw. He gives your neck a big kiss before sucking another hickey into it. “I can be romantic sometimes,” he whispers teasingly into your ear, causing you to shiver.

Billy and Stu pound into you, even harder than before if possible, their hips snapping up against your body.

You know that your orgasm is fast approaching, the various simulations making you feel desperate for a release.

“Please, please, please, please,” your voice is hoarse as you whisper out in a breathy tone to keep as quiet as possible.

“Yeah? You want our cum inside of you?” Billy coaxes you, but you can tell that he’s just as close to reaching his peak as you are given the uneven rhythm of his ruts, pushing slightly against the pattern he had set with Stu.

You nod your head as much as you can, your vision going blurry with the speed you move it. You can feel Billy’s cock throb furiously in you and it's enough to make you reach your own orgasm before him, clapping a hand over your mouth as to not alert your presence to anyone outside.

Billy’s orgasm follows your own soon after, with a strangled moan leaving his lips as his hot cum releases all inside you. The mix of your two juices allows for easier movement within your walls, and after he’s done climaxing Billy slides out of you with ease.

But Stu is nowhere near stopping.

With the result of your’s and Billy’s releases aiding him, Stu ruts himself even further into you. He manhandles you so that instead of your previous position of being twisted in the air as Stu stands behind you, he throws you down on top of the bed and climbs on top of you, humping into you from behind with a newfound vigor.

“Finally get you to myself for a bit,” Stu grits out of his teeth as his hips piston at an immeasurable speed.

You can’t speak at this point, completely cockdrunk from the brunt of the thrusts you’re taking. Stu’s broad body completely engulfs your form as he pounds you into the bedsheets. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, and your tongue lolls out of your mouth, only low whimpers and droll being produced from it.

You can hear the squelching of your pussy, the result of Billy’s cum and your juices, as Stu pounds his cock as far as it reaches. You can feel the release escape the sides of your pussy lips with the brunt of Stu’s thrusts and you can’t help but whine softly as some of the warmth and fullness from the cum leaves your body.

Stu’s hand runs through your hair until he grabs it at the base. He pushes your head down completely into the bed, using much more pressure than what was needed. The force of it causes your ass to arch further into him as he presses his front fully against your back, curving his form as if morphing to the shape of your hunched and fucked out form.

“Now that’s a nice view,” he groans out, one hand at the root of your hair and the other pawing at your ass.

Animalistic grunts leave Stu’s mouth and you can feel as he reaches the cusp of his orgasm. Curses leave his lips as he finally cums, pushing himself inside you as deep as he can and hitting parts never reached before. You can feel the jets of his hot release inside of you as it comes out in huge, thick spurts.

When Stu finally leaves your walls, the mix of all three of your orgasms comes flowing out, making you moan at the loss of the fullness from all three of you.

“C’mon now, push it all outta you,” Billy’s voice calls out from across the room, speaking up from his previous silent observer role as he recovered from his own peak.

You obey, squeezing as much as you can with your weak body. You can feel globs of cum escape your entrance, cooling as it runs down your thighs and onto the sheets below you.

You flinch as you feel Stu’s fingers scoop some out of you, and the smacking of his lips indicates he tasted it. You moan, only able to picture what the scene looks like.

“Oh? You want some?” Stu’s fingers hastily appear in front of you. The fingers from his other hand pull your mouth open and he shoves the cum covered ones inside, making you gag instantly. He rams them in and out of your mouth, barely giving you any time to properly suck on the cum. Flecks of the fluid fly out of your mouth along with your own saliva. Tears fall without a warning, your gag reflex working overtime.

Stu’s fingers fuck your mouth until all of the cum is virtually gone from them. When he finally pulls them out, your body completely collapses. It trembles furiously from all the overstimulation, unable to hold itself up.

Stu gives you a big wet kiss on your cheek and slaps his now-limp cock onto your bare ass. You can only whimper in response, your body too heavy to move any part of it right now. Your vision is blurry, but through it you manage to make out Billy, with his sweaty complexion and rumpled clothes back on his body, talking down to you.

“You stay put until we can get everyone to piss off. We’ll be back for round two.”

[ihopeinevergetsoberr]

A quick meal

cw: shameless smut, no use of y/n, female anatomy for reader, desk sex, dirty talk, slightly rough(-ish)? perhaps??

word count: 1,5k

eng is not my first language, please inform me if you spot any mistakes!

Viktor always knew it’s what inside that counts. And so he counted. Every rich moan escaping your mouth, every squelch of the fondly fingered pussy — it’s every prominence, fold and flexure, and, of course — exactly how much pressure you prefer on your clit. Well, at least that explanation was the only reasonably-appearing one to you, because how the hell did he know how to make you cream his fingers in coats of delicious stickiness in exactly few minutes, the stretch of them so qualitative your throbbing walls could easily accept his cock with little to no effort put into penetration. He must have used an ungodly amount of diligence to develop this specific technique just for you — his precious, lecherous sweetheart. Your whimpers are a devil on his shoulder, distracting him from being a stern, dispassionate about anything except for his research man. That little temptation invited him into the warmth of your precious core instead. It kept luring in, filling his genius mind with dreamy filth. Besides: it’s so much better to be buried within the tightness of your cunt than within the loneliness of his lab, untouched and craving you in his arms so desperately. No, he most certainly would prefer the first option.

“Relax,” sultry whisper teases your ear, while the free from fucking into you hand crawled up, preliminarily teasing the swell of each breast on its way to your throat — to be wrapped around it like a pretty collar, securely tight, not firm enough to actually hurt, but to rather keep you in place, adding to the thrill, to the longing.

He rarely fucks you like this. Viktor’s never been a huge fan of quickies — he’s a taster at heart, thorough and passionate — a sloppy kiss here, a teasing lick there — working you up even when it’s not needed anymore, for the sake of pure entertainment — more his than yours, to be completely honest, but he would never willingly admit to that.

He likes to savour you, like a fresh fruit one’s supposed to eat slowly — painfully so, even, memorising the flavour in explicit detail, letting it engrave into the taste receptors.

But there’s cyanide even in the finest peaches. Eat too many — and you’re incapable of consuming anything anymore, death plastered across your gourmand-face. It takes around fifteen peach pits to kill a curious starved soul, after all.

So tonight Viktor stays away from the cyanide. He’s had enough ravishing for now, turning a solid number of your previous intercourses into love-making. He’s eager, and he’s treating you like a quick meal — totally different from his usual ‘eat-you up-like-you’re-the main course’ demeanour. Not that you mind, of course. Dining hastily has its charms too.

“Keep your legs spread for me,” the gentle demand continues to sting your ear, and as much as you’d love to comply — you simply can’t, trembling knees doing you no favours, allowing no small mercies.

“Darling?” he repeats, the sharpness of his ‘r’ a scrumptious scratch to your brain, turning you into a mess — nearly irreparable, matching the one you’ve turned his desk into once he bent you over it, capturing tightly between his erection and the hard wooden edge, kindly depriving you off the worries about your clothes getting in the way. So thoughtful of him.

Rolled up skirt rests on your lower back, exposing the plumpness of soft hips — so grabable, they’re practically begging for his attention, but he’s reluctant to pull the long fingers out of you just yet. You’re clenching around them so perfectly, blessing him with the privilege of feeling your every twitch.

The presence of your underwear doesn’t concern you anymore — it’s wrapped around your ankles, pretty lace occasionally tickling the skin, reminding of the abrupt harshness Viktor’s sinewy hands had ripped them off you. So brusque when it comes to fucking you from behind that a mere touch feels rougher than the deepest of thrusts. Your pussy might be able to take him without turning into a mess, but your sanity? You wish he’d left you some, just the tiniest bit to at least obey him easily.

But not all wishes were meant to be fulfilled.

You mewl something hopelessly illegible as your words drown in your own moan, lewd sounds of his fingers parting the swollen folds of an already spent cunt louder than your actual voice. And suddenly body language is not a figurative concept anymore.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” the kind threat encourages hoarsely. “Or should I spread them for you?”

You can only squeeze out a nod. Viktor releases your neck with a sympathetic chuckle, and a deft hand grabs at your left calf, helping a trembling leg to step out of the damp lingerie, leaving it completely forgotten and lonely on the floor. You’ll collect it later: if only the dirty-minded inventor lets you, of course. Which was highly doubtful, since tucking your undergarments into a pocket of his dresspants started to really grow on him lately. The possibility of obstaclessly fucking you over another surface once you’re in private again is too tempting to be pushed away so fast.

You fall on his desk, cold wood a tough pillow to your flushed cheek. However the loving hand stroking at your flesh doesn’t move to proceed with complaisant ministrations on your right limb. The buckle of his belt jingles, unfastening, negligently joining your underwear on the floor. You quirk an inquisitive eyebrow, putting a rather pathetic effort into propping yourself up, searching for an explanation to his movements. But a rough palm falls on your lower back with a thump, firmly pacifying, practically smacking.

“Don’t move, dear,” he hisses, pulling his fingers out of you right before you got the chance to cum all over them. Scarily rigorous again. And vicious. But you don’t say that. It’s not like you’re able to talk coherently anyway.

Something — which you suspect to be his foot — persistently forces your legs out of the way, sprawling you more for his hungry gaze. The toe of his shoe roughly kisses each one of your heels, spreading you open, just as he’d promised.

“How rude!” you exclaim, voice dripping with fake resentment.

“Rude?” he laughs, and the next thing you feel is a caring peck on a shoulder, the sweet heat of his breath back where it belongs — teasing the shell of your ear. “Well, please excuse me this one whim, but can you really blame me? Besides, I suppose my… barbarism happened to be quite efficient.”

His tip is pressed against your entrance, slowly working its way inside, brushing a puffy labia on its way. You’re sure it’s leaking with precum for you already — it might be impossible to feel through the lavish wetness seeping out of you, but you know Viktor good enough to be certain of pearly bitterish liquid breaking out of his slit.

You don’t lack his fingers anymore — not when you’re about to be so much more palpably filled, the thickness of his cock irreplaceable with any amount of his phalanxes. An unsolved mystery for both of you. The one leading you to an embarrassingly primitive statement — whatever it is so special about him keeps you coming back for more.

“There was no need to be so ill-mannered. I could have spread my legs just perfectly fine,” you mutter a shameless lie, already expecting a protest.

“And from my expertise you weren’t exactly competent,” Viktor mocks with a tortuously handsome smirk, and you make a fatal mistake of looking over your shoulder right when his narrow hips thrust into yours, his length splitting you with a delicious burn. It takes away the remnants of your stamina. “Because trust me, I can tell when one’s incapable of standing on their own feet — let alone moving properly. Coming from an adept, figuratively speaking.”

He bends lower, warm dry lips pressed to the glistening sweat on your temple. He doesn’t rush to have his way with you anymore, hand found peace on your chin, tilting up, gently forcing a thumb into the open mouth. You greet it with a needy bite, a wordless plea to convince him to finally start pounding into you, to satisfy the body lusting for his steady thrusts.

“You’re quivering,” Viktor notes with a pensive hum. “Shall I proceed? You look like you’re in more need of a cane than I am, my darling. So wobbly.”

The plea-bite on his thumb quickly turns into a menacing one. Canine pierces the skin, earning a muffled against the mess of your hair ‘ouch’, demanding the heartily craved resumption.

“Am I pinned like this forever or are you done with the fucking drollery?”

A sultry laugh caresses your ear, and the throbbing cock inside you slips almost all the way out, leaving you clenching purely around the bulging tip.

“Save the swearing,” utters the pretty tempter.

A rough roll of his hips into yours. Ass bounces off his pelvis, the slap of skin against skin loud and resonant, mingling with your desperate gasp just perfectly. Has you seeing numerous sparks, mouth drops open in a breathless ‘yes’.

“That vocabulary is only appropriate for an orgasm.”

[braindontfailmenow]

Viktor

[royallynasty]

League Viktor headcanon fused with Arcane Viktor edit.

League HC:

The original uniform they wore is dark royale blue and steel toed boots. Viktor has a cleft lip, darker circles, messier hair and side burns, more moles, two toned hair, and a more bitchier look to him.

League!Viktor is intersex and prefers to use he/they pronouns but once he became the machine Herald he made people use it/they.

Viktor wasn't the nicest person in the academy, didn't even like Jayce once he first met him. Actually hated him but was very amused by him so he kinda tagged along to see what he would do at first.

[kovrikkk]

fem!viktor

[mustardmuskrat]

Only 4 pages left in this sketchbook, don't like it.

Also i need to do smth with my color choice, everything is blue everywhere

[justsierrasart]

Machine Herald sketch 💞

[weightedblanketjoyfriend]

A Rose By Any Other Name

Or: Everything you call Viktor except his name

Viktor x gn!Reader

3.9k words, SFW

Tags: No Warnings Applicable, minor cursing, fluff, friendly enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers perhaps?, gender neutral, no pronouns used

A/N: I haven’t written self-insert in, god, like, five years? But here is Arcane, ruining my life. (That being said, please be nice, it’s been so a while.)

Golden Boy.

‘C’mon, c’mon, I know the answer.”

“Viktor, my boy, how about you?”

“Of course, Professor. The main imports of the Noxian empire are as follows-“

With a quiet huff and an equally quiet expletive, you settle back into your seat and cross your arms over your chest, wrinkling your tie. You let out another huff.

And another.

And another.

“Y/N, it’s not like you don’t know the answer.”

“Well, Jayce, what if I wanted everyone else and the Professor to know I know the answer?” you hiss, knocking your neighbor’s foot with your own. He hit you back, harder, because he does that.

“Y/N, Heimerdinger knows you know the answer. You’re one of his top students.”

“But I’m not the top student!” you reply, voice gaining slightly in volume and pitch as the class is excused and everyone starts to pack up their things. “All because of the Golden Boy shithead~.”

“What is all because of me?” a lilting, masculine voice says from behind you.

“My failure!” you bellow, whipping around and smacking the wunderkind’s wrist with your notebook.

“Does answering six questions right in lecture count as failure?” Viktor replies, smiling small and easy as you step out from the row of seats to glare up at him.

“It does when you have to one-up me on two of them!” you mutter spitefully, shoving books into your rucksack and making your way down the stairs of the lecture hall. “I mess up the date of an Ixaocan holiday by one day, and here come pretty, Golden Boy favorite teacher’s pet with an “um, actually-“

“I did not word it “um, actually,” he interrupts, tugging on the back of your collar so you don’t bump into a student in front of you. You, pink-cheeked, turn back to thank him, but he just grins. “I would never start such a sentiment with an ‘um.’ That would imply I’m unsure.”

“I am going to imply that you’re an asshole,” you grumble, before winding your arm through his and accompanying Viktor and Jayce to lunch. He answered more questions correctly than you, so per tradition, you owed him a sweetmilk.

My hero.

“Hey~!”

Your voice, sweet, kind, and so close to his ear, startles Viktor out of his hyper focus and almost makes him drop his cane. He looks over his shoulder, and the fringes of his brown, unruly hair graze your cheek as you lean down next to his chair.

“My friend. My companion. My hero,” you simper, smile coquettish and wide.

“Y/N, my friend and competition. What do you want?” he deadpans. You hold his gaze for just a moment before throwing yourself into the armchair across from him. The pleading expression slips off and your typical air of competitive playfulness replaces it.

“Help me study for the Runeterran history exam.” Viktor holds back a chuckle and closes his book. Your asking for help must be more interesting and novel than whatever he’s reading.

“What is in it for me?” he asks. Viktor holds the tome up, and when you see it’s his history notes, you perk up, perching on the edge of your seat, knees bumping against his.

“10 silver cogs.”

“I know full well that you don’t have 5 silver cogs, let alone 10.”

“I’ll let you beat my next Engineering score.”

“You know I’ll beat you, whether you ‘let’ me or not.” You glare at him, and Viktor responds with a pleased, little hum and a lingering glance at your wringing hands.

“What…do you want?” He lets another satisfied sound and swings his arm back to hold the book in front of you. You reach for it, tentatively, hopefully, before Viktor leans in to tap the tome against your chin.

“Be my assistant in the lab for the next two weeks.”

“TWO weeks?” you hiss, pliant fingers shaped into claws and reaching for the object in his hands. Viktor, smug, quick, lithe Viktor, holds it behind his back, where your shorter arms cannot reach no matter how in his face you get.

And you are so close to his face, his nose just an inch from your cheekbone, his eyes gazing deeply into yours. His familiar, amused, affectionate expression stokes a spark in your stomach, and not the usual flame of pettiness and competition.

“It is now three.” His voice lilts on the -th sound, accent and laughter transforming a familiar phonic into something new and novel. “Would you like it to be four?

“What do you even need an assistant for?! You’re a control freak!” you hiss, contemplating any possible action plan to get that book. You consider for a split second attacking his vulnerable torso, pressing fingers between ribs to find a ticklish spot. For some reason, the idea of skimming fingertips along stomach and chest and back and leaning in close- closer- made pinpricks of heat crawl up your neck.

“Jayce is going to be busy the next couple of weeks with the Kirraman’s, he’s barely going to be in the lab,” Viktor explains, eyes narrowing playfully at your poised hands as if sensing your ill intent. “While he is indisposed, I could use an extra pair of hands… and the company.”

Well, damn.

With a huff and a loosening of the shoulders, you lightly push at Viktor’s chest, and he relaxes, leaning back in his seat and bringing his arm back to place the book in your waiting hands.

His honey gold eyes soften, hard candy to molten lava , as you take it from him. His playful smirk stops pretending and loosens to a small, affectionate smile. His fingertips brush casually against yours, and they send rivulets of sensation through every nerve of you.

“Refresh me on your shorthand over dinner?” you say, taking these new emotions and pushing them to the bottom of your bag with the notebook.

“It is your week to pay.”

Asshole.

“Why am I the one holding the soldering iron exactly? You’re the engineering major.”

“Yes, well, you’re a chemistry major, so this is good practice for keeping your hands steady,” he mutters from next to you, eyes locked onto his notes.

“I’ll keep my hands steady around your throat, asshole” you mutter back, eyes focused on the small motherboard beneath your fingertips. You understood plenty of the small minutiae of circuitry, but the mass of wires and bolts was not exactly your forte, too boring and static to keep your full attention.

So, instead, you choose to sneak peeks at the subject across from you. Viktor, at least, was never a bore to look at.

Even now, eyes blank and focused, a flurry of microexpressions passed every second. Viktor’s lips were never still, reading through his notes and working through his thoughts at a breakneck speed. His eyes flit across the pages too fast for his mouth to catch up.

Every action and breath exuded genius.

When it did not infuriate and goad you, the luminosity of his mind held you spellbound.

You cannot look away from the strand of hair that falls in front of his eyes, tickling his nose, or the mole dotting his cheek that disappears at certain syllables, or the grudgingly adorable, jagged points of his teeth, canine and boyish.

Viktor is equal parts savant and student, elegant scholar and childish young man, greatest opponent and closest confidante. He is an experiment in contrasts, and you are an excellent scientist.

…is what you are thinking when your hands veer off with your attention and graze the soldering iron against your palm.

You hear the slight sizzle of flesh before you actually feel it, and when you set down the tool, it is only the shocked, harsh intake of breath that alerts Viktor to your injury. He is up in a flash, cane in one hand, your wrist in the other, and has your hand under the faucet of the safety sink before the pain properly registers itself in your amygdala.

“Y/N, by Janna, you need to pay more attention, that was incredibly dangerous!” His voice reverberates through your ear, the timber of his accent sending shivers down your spine, up your brainstem, combing with the pain and epinephrine into a befuddling mixture of numbness and sensation.

Funnily enough, you don’t even feel the pain in your hand or the cool water running over it. All you can feel is Viktor’s chest against your back, his shoulder slotted against yours like puzzle pieces. His cheek is firm against your temple, his breath ghosting over your skin. His fingers have your wrist in a vice-like grip, so tight you think you’ll be able to sketch his fingerprints from memory from how they tingle and sear.

You wonder, fleetingly, distractedly, heatedly if they will leave a mark, and the revelation that you desperately wish for them to is more of a shock than the burn.

“I’m sorry,” you gasp, and your senses become even more muddled as the scent of ozone and leather and oil coming off of Viktor settles into your lungs and memory and heart. “Did- did I drop the iron? Did I break the thing?” You can feel him hiss, a current of coffee-scented breath, better than you can hear it.

“Don’t worry about the circuit board, I have dozens of circuit boards,” he intones, voice now soothing and calm as he inspects your palm closely, bringing it closer to your faces. His hand cradles yours gently, carefully, and the sight of practically your entire hand caged in his long, distracting fingers wrenches a whimper out of you. “Are you in a lot of pain?”

Emotionally, yes.

“No,” you respond, flexing your fingers experimentally, partially to check the nerves in your palm and partially because you thought you’d self-destruct at the way his fingers had started to entwine with yours. “I think I’m okay?” His touch moves from your arm, and your shoulders start to droop in- Relaxation? Disappointment?- when you feel his hand on your back instead.

“You do not sound sure, Y/N. Come here.” Viktor deposits you on the stool and turns off the iron before retrieving the first aid kit under all the lab workstations. “Are you okay?” he asks again, kneeling by your feet, gently bandaging your hands, looking up at you with eyes like amber liquor, warm, sweet, and addictive.

You can only shake your head in response, because even a chatterbox like you can’t speak when you’re doomed and drowning.

Player.

‘Sky is a bitch,’ you think. ‘A horrendous bitch, and I should throw my drink right over her very pretty hair.’

Sky- speak of the devil and she will appear- catches your eye as she walks and waves at you from across the ballroom, and you, a horrible person, happily smile and wave back. With a radiant grin so joyous you reconsider pouring the drink on her, she turns back to him, and you pour it down your throat instead.

‘She’s nice. She’s sweet, and she doesn’t poke him with pens to throw him off his game or throw pastries at his head when he won’t leave the lab to eat or call him an asshole when he scores higher than her on an exam.’

“Is there a reason you’re trying to burn a hole through Sky’s back?” Jayce asks, leaning a casual elbow on the bar next to you. “Is she beating you in a class too?” Your glare is steel, unyielding and cold, and Jayce raises a hand in surrender.

“No reason,” you mumble, fidgeting with your regretfully empty glass. “I’ve never liked Sky.”

“Y/N, you have standing bi-weekly plans to meet her after class so she doesn’t have to walk back to the dorms in the dark,” he responds, dark eyebrows raised in disbelief. He gestures at a gala bartender for two more drinks before sidling closer to you. “Plans you told me not to intrude on because you enjoyed your time together.”

“Well!” you bark out with a sound that is a poor facsimile of a laugh. “She’ll be fine without me; she’s going to have the golden playboy to walk her home now.” With a sneer, dripping with contempt and other emotions you dare not name, you angle your glass towards the adorable couple. In her gold gown and his pitch black suit, they are an eye-catching, infuriatingly beautiful pair. It makes you want to vomit.

“Ohhhhh,” Jayce whistles in a grating, knowing tone. When you finally tear your eyes away from Sky’s hand on Viktor’s arm, Jayce’s expression is an unreadable combination of conceit, omniscience, pity, and glee all rolled into an incredibly punchable face. “Finally figured that out, did you?”

“I have no idea what you could be talking about,” you reply, sneer transforming into a grimace as Jayce throws an arm over your shoulder, a friendly gesture tainted by the way he raises a taunting eyebrow at you.

“I’m talking about how everyone’s been waiting for you and Viktor to truly see each other since first term.” A sardonic eyebrow raise, and Jayce concedes. “Sky being the exception, of course.”

“How many drinks have you had, man?” You ask, accepting both of the drinks the bartender brings by and taking a generous sip from yours. “You’re talking nonsense again and not even the fun change-the-world kind.” He shakes his head and jerks a chin at your vodka tonic.

“Not as many as you’ve had. I didn’t think you the drown-your-sorrows type.”

“I have no sorrows to speak of,” you insist, smiling up at him with a blatantly obvious cheer. “Why would I be sad at our friend being happy and loved? Maybe he’ll finally take some time off and take care of himself. Or let someone take care of him.”

“And then you’ll finally beat him?” Jayce prompts, and you nod stiltedly.

“Yeah. That.” The alcohol, sour and bitter, burns as it travels down your throat, but at least it stings less than your uninhibited thoughts. You’re about to raise your glass, both a request for another a toast to your hollow victory, but Jayce, lovingly, kindly, plucks it out your hand and leads you away from what’s upsetting you and towards the banquet table.

Můj Jediný.

Honestly, you don’t know why you’re surprised.

When you crept out of the bustling gala in the waning hours of the morning, properly sober and tired, the lab had seemed like the best place to rest. In the past weeks, it had become just as much your space as theirs, and it was much closer to the ballroom than the dorms.

So when you shove open the heavy door to the laboratory, it should not have surprised you to see great minds think alike.

Viktor, your- whatever he is-, was a vision of elegance at the party: his gilded, special occasion cane with gold cufflinks to match, a pristine, onyx, freshly pressed suit, and chocolatey brown hair gelled into glorious submission. He had been a feast, a decadence to behold.

The Viktor stretched out on the couch in front of you is a comfort, a familiarity. The suit jacket is folded underneath his dozing head, coiffed hair now in unruly curls around his sweet, defenseless face.

The sight is like a warm hearth at the end of a grueling day. It calls to you like a moth to flame, and, helpless, you gravitate toward it.

“I’ve never seen him this quiet,” is the first thought that comes to your mind as you kneel next to your sleeping friend.

Even when engrossed in studies and science, his presence is deafening. If he is not whispering, thinking out loud, you can practically hear the gears in his mind cranking away at the newest way to change the world. When he gets particularly excited, which is more often than one would think, he does not whisper, he shouts- in a variety of languages.

“Ahoj, můj přítel,” you whisper softly, reaching out to stroke his hair with the gentlest of butterfly touches. You have picked up several phrases of Czech the past year, mostly curse words spitfired off the tongue during experiments. But when you’re alone, during restless nights, you look up sweet, loving phrases and allow the fantasy of Viktor’s voice to lull you to sleep. “Můj jediný.”

“What?”

Your eyes which has distractedly, stupidly, traveled down to Viktor’s exposed collar bone snap up to his wide open eyes trained right on you. You scramble back, but the hand you’d been tracing his jawline with is trapped, his hand wrapped tightly around your wrist as he props himself on his elbow.

“Who is your one and only? You’ve been learning Czech?” he interrogates, sun-gold eyes boring into you, exposing you, baring the pink blush on your cheeks for the world, for him, to see.

“No!” you counter, struggling in vain to free yourself from his unexpectedly strong grip. “I’ve done and said no such thing. You must have been dreaming.”

“I was not asleep, I was just resting my eyes, so I know what I heard,” he insists, sitting up straight and taking your chin in his other hand. With him sitting on the couch and you kneeling beside it, between his legs, you are so, so vulnerable.

“I don’t think you do! God, I don’t know why Sky likes you so much, cause, for a genius, you’re so stupid,” you hiss with venom dripping from your words and frustrated tears threatening to drip from your eyes.

“Why do you say I am stupid, Y/N? Present your evidence to me,” Viktor murmurs, voice and touch soft and gentle and feathers. Even your forge-hot temper is quelled by the way his thumb tenderly brushes at the corner of your eye.

“The girl is obviously in love with you,” you scoff, tearing your eyes away from his to look off to the side in a way only a stupid, brave man would categorize as shy. “Sky preens for your attention at every opportunity and you give it. You are only delaying the inevitable.”

“And what, pray tell, is this ‘inevitable’ conclusion you allude to?” He asks, voiced laced with something you could swear is amusement. Your temper flares again, stoked by the warmth beneath your skin.

“You and her. Saccharinely happy. Little engineer babies running amuck and terrorizing Piltover.” A smidge of hurt leaks into your anger, and you bite your lip to stifle it. Viktor, analytical, calm once again, just tilts his head further to look at you quizzically.

“That is a conclusion of sorts, though I would hesitate to deem it inevitable. Y/N, what proof do you have to support your theory?” He tilts your head to look up at him, to meet his eyes, and you face him dead-on, never wrong, never one to back down from a fight.

“She’s always here.”

“She’s assigned as my assistant, that is her job.”

“She’s sweet and nice to you.”

“That she is, but she doesn’t challenge me.”

“She likes you.”

“That is one half of an equation; that doesn’t matter if I do not like her back, if x does not equal y, Y/N. Surely you know your algebra?”

“Are you really fucking with me right now?” You ask, indignation and fury growing by the minute. You writhe in his grip again, but Viktor holds you captivated by his hands and gaze.

“I am merely providing a counterpoint, which is necessary if you wish to prove your hypothesis.” Viktor smiles at you, and you’re about to tell him exactly what he can do and where when he shuts you up with a gentle thumb about your lips.

“You presume, falsely, I might add, that I want to be with and create a future with Sky; I can prove that wrong with the fact I rejected her confession last month. With this information, would you like to re-evaluate your supposition?”

“If you’re going to be a know-it-all, why don’t you just tell me yours then?” You whisper, voice soft and tremulous in contrast to your harsh words.

“Gladly.” Viktor leans in, and every thought you’ve ever had escapes you. “I posit that you love me. Do you have a rebuttal?”

“I posit that you’re a piece of shit,” you breathe out, mentally cursing out yourself and him and everything.

Viktor just huffs out a chuckle that you can feel against your skin. He touches his forehead to yours, and you swear the electrons of your body are colliding against his, out of control. His touch makes you feel unstable, radioactive, thermonuclear, like you’ll soon unravel to chromosomes beneath him.

“The two are not mutually exclusive. After all, you are, as you say, a “piece of shit”, and I love you.”

“No, you don’t.” A full laugh escapes Viktor at your outburst, his hand moving to cradle your cheek.

“Oh, I assure you I do. I would go so far as to say I am an expert in that regard.”

Coming to your senses, finally, you lean back to examine him in full. You are a scientist. You are a professional at collecting evidence and drawing logical conclusions, so you observe the man before you.

Viktor lets you look, poses even. Brown tresses rumpled from sleep, an imprint of a jacket seam pressed into the skin of his forehead, this is the Viktor you see every day.

Then this Viktor takes the hand he holds in his, brings it close, and presses a gentle kiss to the center of your palm. It is a simple gesture, just a minute turn of the head, a butterfly-wing brush of the lips, and yet it is damning and irrefutable.

The look in his eyes is and always has been a look of pure, utter affection and adoration, and it is all the evidence you need.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Viktor hums thoughtfully against your palm, and you shiver at the sensation.

“I figured this was the sort of experiment that needed to be done yourself. After all, when have you ever taken anything I’ve said without question?” he asks, reaching out with his free hand to tap at your temple.

“How long?” you ask, tentatively, shyly, putting your hand over his and holding it against your cheek again. Viktor hums, a thoughtful, pleased sound, and strokes a thumb along your cheekbone.

“The first time you cursed me out for beating your score and asked me to critique your report,” he responds, his smile fond and nostalgic. “You never stop trying and reaching for the best, no matter how many times you don’t succeed. You fall, and you get up again, angrier and more determined. How could I resist you?”

“Viktor,” you whisper. “That was more than a year ago.” He shrugs, his smile growing crooked and playful as he gently pulls your face toward his.

“I am a scientist, Y/N. I can wait as long as I need to for results.” With warm fingers against your neck, soft hair brushing against your forehead, and a whisper you can literally, finally feel against your lips, Viktor leans in for a kiss.

“There is no limit to how long I’d wait as long as the result is you right here with me.”

A/N: This is dedicated to @sweatandwoe @chickenparm @kikorenart @inkinflux @gaybybirth @arcanescribbles y’all don’t know me but you all make beautiful, wonderful content and you’ve have kind of ruined my life and attention span but I’m having tons of fun so it’s cool /pos

[fernshawart]

How to write a cane user character

(Written by a cane user)

A few months ago, I wrote a small guide on good disabled characters and why they were good that gathered quite the attention, and I thought that doing another more specific guide this time would be interesting for writers or just people that are curious ! This guide will include general informations, some things to do, some things to avoid and some ideas that might revolve cane users's lives.

Things to know about cane users

Cane users are pretty diverse, and putting us in little boxes usually isn't the best idea if you want to make a character that has substance and isn't just "the disabled one". Here some infos about cane users that might be helpful knowledge !

Canes don't have ages. Most cane users in media are portrayed to be old, but truly, anyone can have the need to wield a cane ! I've been using mine ever since I was 17.

Can users can have a large variety of problems for their canes. Some canes are used to avoid pain from effort. Some canes are used for balance purposes. Some canes are to make walking less exhausting (works the same as walking sticks !) And sometimes, it's multiple problems at once.

Not everyone needs their cane 24/7. Some always need it, some can make small efforts without it but overall often need it, and some people, like me, can spend quite a lot of time without it. I almost never use my cane in my house, and mostly take it outside !

People with canes can run. We're not necessarily slow, I'm even faster than a lot of my friends.

Not using a cane can come with consequences, but not always. Some people might be able to walk without a cane but then suffer horrible consequences, but for others, canes are just a commodity for specific occasions.

Canes don't have to be looked down upon. Look at some characters with canes that look cool as hell ! Arsène Lupin, Roguefort Cookie, Brook ... Their canes serve their style !

We can be pretty healthy. Some people can have canes just because they were born with a bent leg and that's it. Our cane doesn't define our health status.

Canes aren't a curse. Think of them as something positive. It's a tool to make our lives better. You don't see someone sitting on a chair and think "awh, it's sad that they need a chair". It's more something like "hey it's cool that this chair is here so they can sit down"

Things to do

Make them use their cane. And when I mean use, I mean that canes are just funky long sticks usually made out of metal. Have fun with it ! Let them use it as a weapon ! Trust me, one hit in the knees with a cane and you're DOWN. Use it to reach stuff that's too high for everyone ! Have fun. Be creative.

Let them decorate their cane. It's an extension of their body ! You usually put on clothes that you like, don't you ? It's the same for a cane. If they like cutesy stuff, let them paint in it pastel colors ! If they like a more flashy style, add some stickers on it ! If they're a fancy person, give them a beautiful crafted cane with jewels on it !

You can make them a little shy or uneasy about their cane. Some people don't feel worthy of confident enough to wield one. It's not rare to see people think they're "not disabled enough to do so"

But on the other hand, you can do the complete opposite !! Make them proud of that cane ! Make them act like they're feeling pretty and more confident with it ! One thing i like to think about with my own cane is that I look like a cool gentleman. That boosted my confidence immensely.

Things to avoid

Don't make it their whole world. And by that, I do not mean that their cane shouldn't be a defining trait of their personality. Think of Toph from ATLA. She is blind, and you usually can't think of her character without describing her as blind. However, that isn't her entire personality trait. Make cane users have a goal in life, friends who enjoy them for who they are and not just pity them, have fun ... Don't just make them the disabled one.

Don't try to make the character's life just a plain disaster unless it's the focus of your story and you really know what you're talking about. Having a character who's always in pain, who feels bad about relying on their cane and/or who's angry at the entire world for being disabled is a REALLY tricky subject to use if you don't want them to be either a mass of unhappiness and angst for no good reason or some inspirational porn of the character who inside is deeply tortured but outside keeps up a facade because they shouldn't cry to avoid making others uneasy.

Do not, and I repeat, do NOT try to heal them, especially in a magical way. Bad idea. A lot of disabled people's goal isn't to be healed. It's to live a normal life. Making it so the ultimate goal for them is to be healed makes it as if they were worthless as long as they were disabled. Making their situation better physically or mentally is one thing. Curing them completely is really bad. "But some disabled folks want to be cured !" True, true. But if you are able bodied, I'm not sure if you can have the right mind to understand all of the complex details about this situation that leads to someone's life choices and the end result may look like you think the only thing that can make disabled people happy is being freed from their condition. I think it's best to just avoid it altogether. If you need a more nuanced idea, try to give them a solution that still has a few downs ! For exemple, a prosthetic that feels like a real arm, acts like a real arm and basically replaces it perfectly is a full cure. But a prosthetic that takes time to adjust to, needs repairs sometimes and doesn't look 100% like an arm can be a better narrative choice

Smaller thing, but don't make the handle uneasy to wield if you draw the character design. You can decorate most of the cane, but if you have chunky spiky decorations on the place you're supposed to clench your hand over, you're gonna hurt yourself. I've seen quite a lot of jewel handles or sculpted metal handles and usually their not good. If it's detailed metal, your hand will end up cramped in little parts and it can hurt. If it's a jewel, it's so easy for it to slip out of your hand it's unpractical.

List of tropes/ideas of scenes/details about canes to help you write new situations !

If you walk with a cane during winter, you can't put your hand in your jacket to get warm and there's a high chance your hand will get freezing. So after a long walk, you get an excuse for another character to hold their hand and warm them up.

If the handle is metallic, you get the opposite problem during summer. You can burn yourself so easy ! Easy accident if you want someone to help and get closer to the disabled person without it necessarily involving their disability.

Canes are SUPER useful when you're walking upon heights. They make things really easy, just like hiking poles on mountains ! I live on volcanoes and whenever we clim on a harsh slope, I'm always the first to get up there. Good moment for your character to get a boost of confidence if they get all the way up somewhere before their friends !

The first time using your cane feels magical. If you have chronic pains, it makes you feel like your pain disapear. If you can't walk right, it feels like everything is suddenly alright. The moment where a character chooses to wield a cane can be huge for character development. It's a moment of fear because of the impact a cane has on their appearance, but also a moment of confidence and relief.

Canes fall. All the time. And after a while, it becomes fucking comical. Trust me, putting a cane against the wall, seeing it fall and doing it three times again in a row while it doesn't want to stay up makes you embarrassed but also makes you want to laugh because of how stupid it looks.

When you get a cane, you stop being invisible. When you walk outside, generally speaking, people don't look at you. They don't care about you. But when you get a cane, people start to stare at you for no other reasons that you have a cane. Half of them are just curious, especially if you're young. The other half has a very specific look. The "oh, you poor thing" look. Which is, trust me, particularly awful to get, especially when you're just existing and doing nothing special. How does your character react to this ? How do they feel about it ?

I believe that is all I had in mind. I may add some more details in the future if I get other ideas, but this should already be a good start. I would be thrilled to answer questions if you have some, either in my askbox or through DMs.

I will tag this post with characters holding canes that aren't necessarily considered cane users but that some people may be interested in writing as such. Feel free to tell me if you'd like to see tags being added !

Edit : I'm highly encouraging everyone to look at the tag section under this post where a lot of other can users are sharing their experiences !!

[sentimentallyannoying]

blorbo has possessed me to make my first meme

[grumpyoutlaw]

*Kissing my phones screen*♥️