Need A Piece Of That Cake

Whenever Vox is deep in thought he has his Voxtech logo bouncing around on his screen like the old dvd logo

Reblog if you want one of these in your ask box:

•A compliment

•A story

•Why you follow me

•A cute message

•One thing you want to tell me

•One thing you want to know about me

lyss. lyssbug. i am on my hands and knees begging for you to write reader HARDCORE teasing ellie and getting poor baby so worked up...only to not give her what she wants. the greedy little hip thrust when she chases r's hand..her wetness seeping through her boxers OH I AM UNQELLLSLSLSLSLKWKWN please and thank you i owe you my life 💚

omg hiii plubug. i can feel the feralism pls 🫡 my take on flustering extreme!nerdy perv ellie.. hardly edited. you're welcome!

"can.. can you repeat that question? sorry-"

she wasn't quite getting it.

you had re-explained the same section for the millionth time to ellie williams, the nerdy, socially-stilted girl who'd come into your apartment this afternoon to try and make sense of the coursework from your upper-level sociology seminar.

for a girl so bright, it was like she'd short-circuited the second she stepped through your doorway. you had no clue what caused it.

not that she was much of a smooth talker any other time. in class or when you passed her in the common areas, she was all stammered, bashful greetings and dropped pens, making constant blunders by knocking over her water bottles or running straight into inanimate objects—you'd caught her apologizing to them like they had feelings. ellie’s usual stuttering had escalated into full-on, barely coherent blabbering the second the two of you sat down on your couch—shoulders brushing—going through the reading line by line. something about the set scene, the proximity, the way your voice dropped an octave when reading... had launched her into an entirely unprecedented level of fluster.

her thick-rimmed glasses slipped to the tip of her button nose, her rosy lips slightly parted. ellie's deep green eyes were unsubtly directed at your lips instead of the page, clearly entranced by something other than sociological intersections.

it wasn't the first time you caught her zoning out like that. you weren't oblivious. ellie was trying so hard to suppress whatever little crush had wormed its way into her chest, but she was terrible at hiding it.

and she was absolutely adorable, sat there in her cinematically dorkish spectacles. 

some of this fell on you, so keen to her antics to begin with. the loserishness definitely had its appeal… but there was more to her than meets the eye. you’d snuck a peek of a tatted arm under her rolled-up hoodie, her fit figure, a cute, firm butt. you could take a bite out of her.

you figured it wasn't entirely fair to let it slide without teasing her a little.

"what… would you say it means when these two groups culturally intersect?" you asked, voice soft, coaxing her back to the present.

ellie blinked, slow and dazed. she hadn't heard a word.

"ellie, are you listening?" you asked, though the answer was obvious. "you're off in space…"

that snapped her out of it. like a whip crack. she straightened her posture, eyes darting to yours with a flicker of panic like she was trying to figure out just how much you'd noticed of her wandering attention. 

without thinking, you reached up and gently pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose.

"there. that might help your sight," you said with a pleased little hmph.

ellie shifted on the couch, muttering, "right… erm, thanks…"

"alright, now, eyes on the book," you instructed, mock-stern, pointing to her face and guiding it back toward the page.

for a while, things went peacefully. ellie seemed to settle, at least for a stretch, finally receptive to your guidance. this subject came easily to you, and she kept reminding you of that.

"you're so good at this. i really appreciate you helping me," she'd said earlier. and then again. and again.

"thank you, els," you'd replied each time, the nonstop doting giving you a slightly inflated ego.

but eventually, the silence stretched on once more. no questions. no reaction. you leaned forward to point out a new concept—

—and sure enough, she wasn't looking at the book.

you sighed and looked up, catching her once again mid-stare. she really couldn’t help her urges, could she? this time, however, it was with a heavy focus on your top, the curves of your cleavage visible with how the scoop neck dipped slightly. 

how lewd of her, you thought. was the ellie williams actually a closeted horn-dog? the idea of it..didn't actually surprise you at all. it tended to be the shyest ones who harbored the raunchiest, ineffable perversions. 

"…ellie," you drawled, voice half-teasing, half-warning. "do you need something?"

she jolted upright, clearly trying to play it off, shaking her head profusely and turning to face you a bit more.

"s-sorry, i really don't mean to—"

you brought your finger to her lips before she could spiral into apologies.

"shush," you said, gentle. "ellie… i know what you're doing."

ellie’s amber freckles stood out sharply as her face flushed crimson, naturally full brows raised in anxious anticipation. she didn't want to assume what you meant, but her guilty expression gave her away.

"what?" she played dense. "it's just hard for me to get all of this. you're so patient, thank you—"

"no, no," you cut her off again. your hand slid up her arm, resting on her bicep, fingers curling slightly. a tender pressure. tacit reassurance.

ellie gulped.

"do you need something else, maybe?" you added, eyes not once leaving her. "a… motivator?"

you let the question hang there, teasing, open-ended—flirting with the girl who was clearly, hopelessly pining.

and yeah, you were picking up what she was putting down. you just knew she'd never be the one to say it first. 

you weren't even this bold typically. finding a girl far more timid than you seemed to embolden you in a way you'd never imagined for yourself. 

"ellie..can you lay back for me?" you continued, voice lowering into dulcet danger. your aura dripped with a flirtatious, syrupy, tempestuous sweetness, yet still giving her an out if she so needed.

but ellie, of course, obliged. there was no way in hell she’d say no to anything you asked of her. you said to jump? she’d ask how high. so she shuffled backward—pressing against the ragged cushions, back to the rickety armrest. she looked at you, silently questioning your intent.

you found yourself slowly tracing your fingertips against her jeans, studying how the old, relaxed denim hugged her body. the fit was slightly loose, which worked in your favor. 

"i've noticed your focus.. isn't where it should be," your pointer fingers mimicking a walk up her leg. "if we're going to get you a passing grade, i need your 110% effort."

in ellie’s mind, she could hardly comprehend what was happening—or what was about to go down. she’d been yearning for this moment, crushing on you for longer than anyone would regard as normal. really, the chance to come over and study had in itself felt like hitting the jackpot. getting to be this close to you, regardless of the reason, surpassed her wildest dreams. but now, your hand was working its way up her leg, and ellie found herself utterly awestruck at the fact. all she could do now was ditsily nod that she wanted you to keep going, more than anything, and so you did.

and then- fuck, she remembered one detail that could potentially derail your whole plan—she was wearing fucking dinosaur-printed boxers. 

oh, she was so embarrassed. her hand shot up to try and intercept your movements, a feeble attempt to stop what now felt like an impending disaster, but you swatted her fingers away with ease. a silent reprimand.  

you reached the buttons of her pants, pausing on them to look up with one more tentative check for consent. you caught a glimpse of trepidation in ellie’s eyes- a pitifully needy expression that gave you the confidence to pop the button open with a swift, single tug.

with the newfound freedom, you slid her jeans down, lifting her hips slightly. you couldn't help but notice the unmistakable pattern on her boxers. a teensy smirk came over your lips, but you kept your mouth shut. ellie saw your reaction, momentarily dying inside, but ultimately resigned to let this be the price to pay for having your hands on her. she’d simply accept that she’d be haunted by this moment for the next twenty years.

you trailed your fingers along the fabric first, glissading down her hips, pelvis, finally grazing her mound over her boxers. a wet patch had already formed, much to ellie's chagrin but to your delight. 

"needy, huh? i see why you need my help, can't let you go on like this huh.." you teased, ever so slightly caressing. ellie could feel her pussy throbbing through her boxers, just aching for direct contact before she flooded through to your fingers. you were more in tune than she gave you credit for; you found it almost precious, her sheer desperation for your titillations and sudden lavished attention. you were her aphrodisiac.

you, admittedly, got a bit worked up, feeling your own pussy pulse with every breathless whimper escaping ellie's lips, the moistness you felt through her fabric-covered cunt. you, worked up to the edge of her boxers again, tantalizingly dragging your fingers along the hem, feeling the tickle of her happy trail. you softly exhaled when ellie bucked up, so preemptive. poor girl. the situation was clearly dire, the way her mouth kept parting and her eyes teared up with such frenzied lust and you hadn't even made it down yet. this was way too fun. your coy smirk grew ear to ear as you finally snaked your hand inside her boxers, descending her trimmed auburn bush. 

ellie let out quivered fluxes of breath when your palmed her sopping heat, finally teasing her silken folds, middle and index fingers spreading her slippery lips to feel how aroused she was. ellie’s stomach was already fluttering, waves of excitement building. 

you didn’t let on that you were actively resisting the urge to fingerfuck her into oblivion. you oh-so-wished you could break this dorky girl, teach her things about your body and you learn every button to press on hers to melt her underneath you. but for now, you simply wanted to relish in her bucking hips and how she was trying to greedily get herself off on your hand. your wetted thumb pressed on her twitchy clit, moving in small, gentle circles around the clothed area, eliciting the most pitiful wail from ellie yet, a full body squirm paired with it. 

"fuck..this is what you really needed wasn't it, ellie?" you ask her, a slight mocking laugh following your words. "you didn’t want to study..came over here just to stare at my tits, hmm?" you taunt, the humiliated-yet-lustful look in ellie's eyes and the tide of wetness on your fingers answer enough. 

"oh god…" she choked in a gasp, eyes squeezing shut as you kept trailing her slit, not quite dipping inside her aching center. 

ellie truly was a sight for sore eyes like this, toned legs spread wide like a whore across your couch, splayed as much as she possibly could in her only half-shrugged-off jeans. her glasses had slid down to the tip of her nose again from how her head bobbled with each of your teasing strokes. face roseated and glowing, auburnish strands tugged from her already-messed-up bun. the nerd had become your personal porn star, and you couldn’t get enough of it.

with a surge of confidence, your other hand grips ellie's chin, hoisting her face to meet yours as you sultrily mutter your next instruction. 

“answer me. you wanna be my pretty little slut?" you asked, invoking a sly smile to ease her into the idea. 

"yes, yes, please," she begs without hesitation, stumbling over her own words. you comfortingly pat her cheek, then lowering your hand to firmly cup and fondle her clothed breast.

finally giving ellie what she so needed, you pushed your fingers into her cunt, the wet tightness of it pulling an involuntary moan from you that came in sync with hers.

"you feel so fucking good, baby… all worked up for me…are you even gonna last?" ellie, in a blissful haze, overwrought with pleasure, couldn’t even sense your words. she just kept doing what a neglected, horndog ellie knew best, trying to rhythmically grind herself into your hand as you sunk your digits further inside, curling deep within to hear her mewls of pleasure. 

“s’all for me..god, you’re gorgeous-“ you adopted a steady pace, spreading your fingers inside her spasming walls, to get her whole body trembling and roaring towards an impending release.

”ahh, aahh, fuck," she rambled dumbly, glasses clouded against her face thanks to hot breaths. her head was fully thrown back, a fist white-knuckling a cushion for dear life. what fucking luck. this perfect moment would fuel her fantasies for years to come. 

maybe perfect, but still incomplete. perhaps she’d gotten her hopes up too soon. 

listening to her jumbled words and sensing her getting close, a most wicked idea entered your mind. 

“so easy.. gonna cum on my fingers so fast yeah? just needed to be treated like a whore, yeah? oh…fuck-” you sucked air through your teeth while continually pumping your fingers in her at a languid, torturous pace. your condescension made ellie’s cunt flood, coating your hand and dribbling down her thigh. you salivated over how her walls clenched around your digits with every tease.  the deliciously obscene squelching sounds of ellie’s pussy getting wrecked on your fingers filled the room, mingling with your breathy moans in torrid harmony.

"so close aren't you, pretty girl?" you ask, increasing the vigor and depth of your pumps, causing ellie's back to arch up into your knuckles, angling as far as she could, trying to suck your fingers in. 

"yes- yes- yes-" she spewed, climax coiling tight, ready to unfurl. 

but you felt mean. 

your wrinkled fingers eased up, pulling from her soaked cunt, followed by a trail of dripping, creamy beads. ellie humped the air, not instantly registering the loss of your fingers. the building pressure inside her started to wane, glossy eyes gradually fluttering back open. ellie whinged as she realized what you had done, the extent of your cruelty settling in. ellie responded by lurching forward, head slumped against your shoulder without shame, whimpering in protest off your actions. she was hopelessly pliant, completely lost in her desire to finish on your fingers. you tittered, rubbing a tender hand on her back. “tsk, tsk… so mean of me, i know..” you kissed her hair. it was all too much. you wanted to coo reassurances, leave her hanging, but her restless, fucked-out state caused a twist in your stomach. to be desired so fervidly made your own thirst insatiable. 

betraying your own willpower, your hand gradually reached her dripped-through boxers again, pressing a feather-light swirl on her swollen bud triggering ellie to mindlessly rut, straining herself to roll against your hand.

you giggled in how sensitive she was to your attention. “you just look so gorgeous on edge like that.. how could i possibly let you cum?”

it was so beautifully pathetic. the captivating way the sheepish, nerdy ellie you knew had fallen from grace and crumbled under your every whim.. you could keep toying with her forever. but you were capable of bargaining, a charitable vixen.

“how about this..” gingerly dragging your hand away once more, settling purchased on ellie’s waist to keep her upright and ensure she heard you.

“convince you me you understood a lick of your coursework, i’ll let you cum.. you help me cum... sound good sweetheart?”

you’d never seen such a quick learner as after you motivated ellie with a prize such as that. maybe you’d hold up your end of the deal. maybe. 

life's too short - Viktor x gn!Reader Smut

Notes: I think this is so much softer and more emotional than any of us were expecting 😳 the anon specifically mentioned a GN!Reader for this, so I kept it to oral so as not to describe the reader physically, I hope thats okay! I read that Viktor moved to the Academy at 19, and this is set around Season 1 act 2/3, making him and the reader around 30-1 for this fic. Warnings/Rating: MDNI Smut, oral (male receiving), making out, angst, whiney/subby Viktor, swearing, reader is a prostitute | 18+ for smut Wordcount: 3.2k Synopsis/Request: Hii just a lil request for Jayce or Viktor (your choice) wanting to try something new and visiting a brothel in Zaun for the first time and meeting an old face 🫣 gn reader!!

Masterlist | Dialogue Prompt list

He usually prides himself on managing his stress levels fairly well. Or at least managing to hide his stress well enough that he didn’t have people asking him if he needed a break, or pestering him about taking it easy. 

This month in particular, however, had been too much, even by his standards. 

Between Jayce spending less time in the lab and doctors pestering him every few days about treatment plans, he was close to breaking point and nothing had been able to release it. Not even his well-practised hand had been able to work the tension from his body sufficiently. 

It was true that it had been a painfully long time since he had managed to get his dick wet. Between his illness and the demands of Hextech, there wasn’t exactly time to meet anyone, and his worsening leg meant he wasn’t as fond of stumbling home with someone from a bar as he had been when he was just a 20-something student at the academy. 

He was, to put it simply, pent up. And admitting it to himself had only led him to one conclusion. He needed to get laid. And there was only one place to do that quickly with no questions asked. 

He ducked into the establishment quietly, the thrum of nerves bubbling in his chest as he stepped awkwardly down the corridor, lavisous sounds echoing from rooms beside him as he raised his knuckles to knock on the office door and swallowing thickly when it opened. 

The old Yordle that opened it looked him up and down quickly, a well-practised smile etched on her worn face. “What will it be, sugar?” she drawled, leaning against the door frame and eyeing up his suit. He had changed from his uniform, but all his clothes now screamed Piltie, even when he tried to dress subdued. Whatever he wore, they still all felt so alien to him. 

“Ehm, a-anyone,” he eked out nervously, more unsure of himself now than he had been in years.  

She huffed a soft laugh, taking a drag of her cigarette, “You’re down home now, sweetheart, no need to look so scared,” she drawled, setting his hairs on end as she saw right through him. She nodded down the corridor, “room six. I know what you need. Pay on your way out.” 

He nodded a polite thank you before he made down the corridor again, eyes flicking anxiously from room to room until he found six, stepping through the curtain and relieving a long breath as he sat back on the old, worn velvet couch. His gaze flicked around the room as he waited, unable to settle on any one specific thing as nerves bubbled in his chest, wondering if this is really what would fix the tension between his temples. 

His breath hitched in his throat when the curtain pulled to the side, his jaw falling slack and mouth drying when his eyes fell on your face. He could feel the blood drain from his cheeks, his heart hammering behind his ribs so roughly he was worried that it would fracture them. 

“Viktor?” Your voice was more of a confused gasp than anything else. He shuffled on the work velvet seat to sit more upright, fingers gripping his cane so tightly he was surprised it didn’t break. He simply gawped at you for a moment, his brain rendered near empty upon seeing you for the first time since he left for the Academy. Save for one thought — fuck. 

He swallowed thickly, watching you tighten your robe around you, registering the panic in your movements and struggling to find words. “Wha-what are you doing here?” Your words came out strained. 

He could almost feel the embarrassment rolling off you in waves and his heart clenched, a sudden guilt weighing heavily in his stomach at what had become of the two of you. What he had risen to and left you to bear. 

“What are you doing here?” He returned your question, his throat tight. In all his times imagining seeing you again, not once did he imagine this. 

You looked anywhere but him for a moment, eyes fixing on where his hands rested on his cane to avoid his hazel eyes. “Not all of us get fancy academy jobs,” you huffed an awkward laugh, but he saw how your fingers clenched at the fabric of your robe.

The fabric covered little more than the limits of your torso, riding high on your thighs so as to leave once a little to the imagination. The neckline cut deeply, too, or would do when you didn’t have it pulled firmly around yourself, to show off the deep v of your chest down to your sternum. 

He tore his eyes away, flicking back to your own as you finally met his gaze, skin flushing a deep red in the shame of being caught staring. 

He started to press his weight into his cane, moving to stand, “this was a mistake, I should go.” He shook his head to try and clear them of his guilty thoughts, only for you to stop him, your hand pushing against his shoulder as he moved to step past you. 

You looked at him, doe eyed, your lips slightly parted as you looked him up and down subtly. At this proximity, he could feel your breath hitch slightly as your tongue darted out to wet your lips. 

“You look good, Viktor.” 

His name dropping from your lips had always made him weak, but now it was damn near melting him. There was still a sickening churning in his stomach, however. 

“Please, don’t run your routine on me. Not you.” He rasped, although he was finding it difficult to look away. Your grasp on his shoulder was weak – he could easily push past you and continue out if he wanted to. Yet his feet stayed rooted firmly to the ground. 

“I’m not,” you faltered, hurt returning to your eyes. “I– I just didn’t expect to see you again. Let alone here. It’s been so long.” 

He huffed a sad laugh, “eleven years and eight months, to be precise.” He felt something in his sternum flutter when you chuckled – a genuine warm sound that resounded in his head. 

You both settled into silence that skirted around being comfortable as you just looked at each other, as if you were both silently mapping each other's features to compare them to what you had memorized all those years ago. 

“You can just stay and chat, you know,” you offered quietly, your voice unsure again as you gestured loosely to the couch. “We don’t all just…” you trailed off and he saw your throat bob with an awkward swallow. 

He nodded softly, “of course,” watching you sit across the couch with one arm folded on the back, head resting lightly on your fist before he slid tentatively beside you, easing back into the cushions, unable to tear his gaze away. 

“How’s life in the big city?” You asked, your eyes softening. 

His lips ticked up into a wistful smile, “almost everything we ever imagined.” 

“Almost?” You teased softly, brow raising. 

He hesitated for a moment, wetting his lips as he tried to work out the best way of saying it was nothing without you there to share it with him without scaring you off. 

He remembered the last time he saw you vividly. How you had helped him drag his only suitcase into the cable car, letting you babble on and on about him coming to visit because he knew if you stopped talking you would have cried. And he hated seeing you cry. 

His skin still tingled whenever he thought of the night before, how you had both fallen into your cramped bed together, waking up limbs tangled and wearing nothing but your sheets. 

He remembered how he had promised to come back, only to never find the courage. It hurt him too much to see what he had left you to, his guilt eating away at him for years as he slept in golden gilded apartments and wore well fitting clothes that didn’t have holes in them. Because he didn’t deserve them, and he was sure as hell you’d only grow resentful of them. And rightly so. How him not coming back was better for both of you, letting you move on.

You had both been so young, after all. 

“All that time topside finally worn out your brain?” You teased, your hand coming to rest on his softly, flinching him out of his thoughts. The touch only made it harder for him to focus, his head swimming. 

He finally let out a breathy chuckle, “no, sorry.” He took another deep inhale, “it’s very…” he trailed off, trying to find the right word. He didn’t miss how your eyes flicked over his well-fitting suit. 

“Different?” You filled in for him, sounding quieter and his heart clenched. 

He shuffled awkwardly, moving his hand from under yours. “Yes, different.” He paused for a moment more, building the courage to look at you again. “How have you been?” 

Your lips pressed into a tight, practised smile. “I’m okay. Better than a lot of the others.” Despite your tight tone you sounded genuine. “I’m well looked after here, I always have a meal on the table – It’s not too bad really. Babette looks out for us all.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t visit,” he hated how pathetic his voice sounded, choking out awkwardly. 

Your small shrug hurt. “It’s okay, like you say, it’s busy up there.” Your smile didn’t reach your eyes. 

“That’s no excuse,” he rushed to chastise himself. “I never forgot about you, you know that, don’t you?” 

A look of genuine shock crossed your features momentarily, but you hid it well. “I know,” it was a lie. He could tell. 

He reached out gently again, his hand clasping yours and encouraging you to look at him. He prayed you couldn’t feel the way his skin clammed up as his heart raced, desperate to have your eyes on him again. “I mean it. I thought about you every day – to the point of distraction,” his voice wavered, barely above a whisper. “Despite it all, I never stopped loving you.”

His panic set in as he watched you process his words, sitting silently and pulling in a breath that racked your chest. “After all this time?” 

His eyes flicked down to your lips fleetingly, forcing down the lump in his throat, “Of course. I think a part of me knew if I came back I wouldn’t be able to leave you again. It was hard enough the first time, and I don’t think I want to do it again–” 

He was cut off by your lips pressing to his, his mind immediately going blank as you pushed yourself onto his lap. His hands immediately flew to your hips to steady you against him, groaning as you squeezed your thighs around him gently, breathing in your scent as it washed over him in nostalgic waves. 

Your lips rolled over his messily, your brow lightly furrowed as you cupped his sallow cheeks in your soft hands, kissing him with all the desperation you could muster. It was rushed and unpractised as you bit his lower lip gently, dragging a gasp from his lungs, your tongue instantly taking advantage of it to roll your tongue over his tantalizingly. In an instant, he was 19 again, with you beneath him in your bed. 

You pulled away slightly for breath, dragging your lips down his neck as his head tilted back to allow you, your hand instinctively weaving itself into his hair at the nape of his neck. The strands were longer now but you didn't seem to mind as you tangled it around your fingers and tugged gently, eliciting a shockingly pathetic whine from his lips – one that had him flushing with embarrassment as he realised just how touch starved he had been. 

“Let me take care of you, please?” you muttered against his skin. He swallowed roughly, Adam’s apple bobbing beneath your lips. 

“You don’t ha-”

“I want to,” you interrupted him. He searched your eyes for a moment, “It will be nice not having to pretend it's you for a change,” you admitted softly, eyes leaving his for a moment in shame. 

He brought his fingers up gingerly to your jaw, fingers softly lifting your eyes back up to meet his. “You’ll never have to pretend again,” he promised sincerely, lips ticking into an emotional smile as you bit your lip. 

You surged forward again, hot kisses more fervent now as you grinned against his lips, hands finding the sensitive spot against his scalp again and tugging a little more roughly, again pulling a whiney groan from his lips. 

“You haven’t changed, I see?” you teased as your lips made their way down his skin again as his fingers fumbled with his shirt buttons, kissing each inch of skin as he freed it from the soft fabric. 

“Let me,” you purred softly as you batted his hands away from where they trembled against his belt buckle, your dexterous fingers making light work of it and flicking open the buttons beneath. You had let your kimono fall more loosely around you now, the deep V showing off more of your skin. His eyes trailed down shamelessly and he brought a hand up gingerly, trailing his fingers over the soft expanse of your abdomen, smirking when you shivered under his touch. You stopped him, your hand clasping his wrist tenderly, “Just wanna help you,” you pleaded softly, “at least this time, at least here.” 

He nodded shakily, your fingers drifting over his growing bulge as you slid down between his parted legs to your knees, fingers trailing down his thigh and over the mechanical brace that encased his leg. 

“Let me,” he offered uneasily, trembling fingers ghosting over yours as he struggled with the releases for a moment until they popped out of place, thankful you didn’t choose now to start your inevitable questions as he shoved it to one side and let you drag his trousers down, lifting his hips as best he could to help you and letting his cock spring free with a hiss. 

He watched as your tongue darted out to wet your lips, hands dragging themselves over the pale skin of his thighs towards where his leaking cock lay flush against his stomach, tip dark pink and flushing as it leaked precum. It was astounding the effect you still had on him. 

You leaned forward slowly, dragging your tongue up the thick vein that ran along the underside and he sighed, fingers digging into the pillows beside him as his head fell back at the slightest of touches. 

“Gonna take care of you,” you sighed, one hand wrapping slowly around the base of his cock and squeezing in a tight ring, trapping the blood for just a moment and leaving him gasping. “So hungry for touch, hm?” 

He nodded pathetically, hips bucking against your hand as you breath fanned over him. You chuckled lovingly, placing a barely-there kiss to the weeping slit. “Missed you, Viktor.” 

He didn’t have time to process a response before you sunk down on him, splitting your lips around his cock and sucking him in, bottoming out with a small gag. 

He whined at the warmth of your cheeks as they surrounded him, hollowing as you pulled off of him with a pop, working him with your hand, your saliva drooling down him and acting as lube as you pumped him, circling your wrist as you did so. 

His back arched away from the cushions as you pulled him between your lips again, twirling your tongue around the tip and flicking attentively at the slit, lapping up his salty precum loyally before sinking back down around him again, bobbing your head halfway down his cock teasingly. 

He pulled his head back up shakily, cracking his eyes open to watch you as you swallowed around him, hand and head moving in perfect unison around him, bringing him to the brink before easing off with practised ease. He was surprised he didn’t cum just from a brush of your fingers it had been so long. 

He brought his hand to your head experientially, pressing down on your scalp gently and you took the hint, sinking back down him fully until his tip nudged the back of your throat, forcing a gag that had your eyes watering. 

He whimpered as his balls clenched, “Y-you’re so good at this – take me s-so well.” Every syllable was effort as you doubled down on your movements, slurping loudly on his cock as your drool dropped down his shaft to his balls. He was well aware that his hair was plastered to his forehead at this point, sweat beading along his skin as he sunk down on the couch, struggling to support his own weight as his mind turned to jelly, every inch of his skin on fire under your touch. Even his loose, undone shirt was sticking to his torso as his bare chest heaved. 

“Ahh- nghh,” He practically cried when your spare hand came up to cup his balls, rolling them curiously between your fingers. His fingers tightened their grip on your head as he bucked up into you uncontrollably, his eyes squeezed shut again as his heels dug into the floor for leverage. His movements were pathetic against you, rutting into you like a teenager again as he grasped for you, your name falling from his lips like a prayer, mixed with words in a language he knew you wouldn’t understand as the tension in his stomach built, his balls and cock twitching in your grasp. 

“Gonna–” he could barely croak out the word as the band snapped. He came in hot spurts, whining and thrashing as he released into your throat, coating your tongue with his spend as you lapped it up, pressing him deeper into your mouth as you continued to work him through his orgasm, fingers still squeezing his balls for every drop even when he was whimpering and pulling his hips away from you, tears beading in the corners of his eyes. As you slowed, letting his slowly softening cock go with a few final attentive licks, cleaning his slit of his sticky spend. 

He laid there for a moment, eyes still closed as he gasped for breath, only half aware of you moving until he felt a soft cloth on him, eyes fluttering open to see you cleaning him up diligently. He rushed to stop you, flushing with awkwardness only for you to bat him away with a soft smile, tossing the cloth to the side before helping him with his clothes again, tucking yourself back by his side as he buttoned up his shirt. 

“I want you to come with me,” he muttered softly, fingers brushing across your cheek after tightening his brace again. 

“Vik-” 

“No, no protests,” he shook his head, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “I am not leaving you behind again. Life’s too short.” he ignored your worried look as he kissed you again, stopping any questions before they could form on your lips. “Get your things together. I’m doing what I should have done years ago.” 

imagine meeting ellie on her way back from santa barbara. she’s bloody, vest stained with red and her body overall weak after fighting abby. sure, neither of them were actually that powerful because of what they had been through, but this was different. she was struggling to walk.

and then you come along, with a weirdly vast knowledge of first aid and medicine. and you’re pulling her to the side and telling her everything will be okay and she doesn’t even know who you are. she’s so out of it that she just lets you, even if she has her switchblade in her hand the entire time.

you made her feel safe, though. the way your hands ran down her arms and gently turned them to check for bruises or injuries and the way you applied pressure to her torso? everything just made her feel more relaxed.

and you had painkillers. and that was what she absolutely needed— and you just go and give her everything she needs in one.

you’re everything she needs.

you help her on her way back to jackson. you give her a hand, a ride on the back of your horse, you make sure she’s safe from infected. she doesn’t know why you’re being so kind. but she accepts it completely. she’s exhausted. she deserves this.

but then you’re leaving. you’ve got her back to jackson, and you’ve managed to find her a place to clean up and some people to help her.

but she doesn’t want you to leave. but she has no choice. she has to let you go.

you’re a ghost. a phantom. you’re someone who was there for her in her moment of need. but you didn’t stay. you’re only that temporary relief for her.

she wants you back.

WOOF? OH MY GOD?? ON THE CEILING OF MY ENCLOSURE I LOVE THIS

i saw u wanted val requests and well hes my fav. this isnt rlly a requst so much a thought tht has been festering in my brain and im too scared to post on my own acct imagine breaking val. imagine taking the time to ruin his grandiose showboating persona. he's always so cocky and arrogant, even when he got used to bottoming he remained an arrogant prick. he would smirk and act like a brat the whole time. it was fun sometimes. not always. you wanted so badly to see his arrogant face in tears. thats how he got here. tied tightly with ropes making sure he had no way to escape. of course this was accompanied by another arrogant comment "so tight, chiqui~ you worried i might flip the script?" you rolled your eyes. tying the silk blindfold to his face was met with similar comments and teasing. but what he didnt expect was you to slip away to sit in the corner of the room. at first he's sitting, waiting impatiently with the occasional comment. he expects at any minute you'll bring him a fun toy to fill his holes or to slap him around. maybe you're getting undressed and he'll soon feel your hands all over him. as time ticks longer he makes more comments, each growing more irritated in tone. it doesnt take more than 30 minutes for him to begin to get truly angry at you. hes yelling, cursing, screaming violent threats at you. its the farthest you've seen his facade fall. his body twisting and fighting his bonds as he tries as hard as he can to free himself. he can't. now its been 50 minutes and his thrashing has only gotten worse. his comments of harsh threats as loud as he can have turned his voice hoarse until he's making rough whining. his wings twist and write against his bonds kicking up little gusts of winds as he strains himself so hard you're worried he's going to get hurt. so you speak. "calm down, you'll hurt yourself" at the sound of your voice his whole body perks up and he tries to find your voice. finally you hear it, a pathetic whimper from his hoarse voice. "chiqui?" its so sad and sweet like a whimper from a kicked animal you almost wouldn't know its him. "im right here." you assure him finally getting up from your seat. tears start spilling from beneath the blindfold as he fights against his bonds, weaker this time. you place a gentle hand on his chest. "im right here." you repeat as his bound arms try desperately to get to you. "want you... n.. need you." you crawl over him and gently lift his blind fold exposing his tear eyes to you. you rub your thumb gently over his cheek to brush away his tears. "im right here for you, val. tell me what you need." "need you." he rubbed his head against your hand. "need mmm" you immediately retracted your hand and looked at him with a stern look while keeping your tone gentle. "you need to use your words." another whimper left his lips. "t-touch me please just. use me. need you so b-bad i dont care how i-" your hands were back on him in moments, making quick work of some of his bonds. mostly you were making sure he could flex his wings comfortably. before you turned him on his stomach. "you're such a good boy." you cooed in his ear which was met with shaky purring from deep in his chest. with all his showboating broken it was going to be fun breaking him down to a sobbing begging mess.

WOAH. GANG. IM LITERALLY SPEECHLESS. GOOD MORNING???

Nah this made me forget i’m a writer like WHAT NEXT??? WHAT HAPPENS AFTER THAT??? Part two in my inbox NOW. I’m on my hands and knees.

No because like “use me” from Val has got be acting up. I’m clawing at the walls of my enclosure. Him breaking down into tears when he hears your voice because he’s so desperate to be touched, because the poor baby can’t even go one full hour without your attention. IM COOKED.

Anyways, i’m impressed, and this delivered on so many levels. I’d sell my soul to have more anons like you in my askbox, much love lil homie. PEACE ✌️

husband!simon riley who backs his wife's rights and wrongs cw: murder

you fucked up. majorly, as you stared at the bloody body on your living room floor, red seaping into the grooves of the floorboards. you were frozen, perhaps it was shock as you watched the carnage seep into your nice rug that simon had bought you.

you ran your hands through your hair, only spreading the blood across your soft skin and threads of hair. how would you explain this to your husband? how would you hide this from your husband? how would you explain to him the rug, that you begged for, was suddenly not to your liking, because it had a massive splotch of someone's else's blood? no mistaking that for a period stain.

you were royally fucked, pacing back and forth, avoiding splatters of blood as you thought millions of plans in your head.

what if you dumped the body in the dumpster? no, the body would decompose far too quickly, and not to mention the smell. it's the middle of the fucking summer and hot as balls outside! okay, well, what if you stuffed the body in a suitcase and buried it? no, no, it was too big to fit in even your largest. oh, what if you cut him up? back up, that's even more blood that you'd have to deal with. plus, digging was never your thing.

all this time panicking left time wasted, and soon enough, your lovely, unsuspecting husband had pulled into the driveway. you shrieked to yourself as you peaked out the blinds, scrambling back to the body, but yet again, what the fuck could you do?

the front door opened and closed quickly after, the sounds of boots being kicked off and disposed as panic rose in your body. fuck, this was it. you were definitely going to jail, your husband will never trust you again, wouldn't even pay a visit. you could hear his voice calling, increasingly becoming more concerned without a response.

footsteps followed, and he appeared around the corner. his eyes landed on you, then the body, and then you, and then the body, and then—you get it. his eyes scanned your smooth skin for injury, narrowing at the blood before confirming it wasn't yours.

"wot hav'i told ya abo't makin' messes near yer precious rug, swee'eart?" he grunted, shrugging off his coat and tossing it to the couch, pulling you in by your hips, pressed against his front as a thumb swiped away a blood splat on your cheek, "y'okay?"

you looked at him dumbfounded, lips parted in shock as you stuttered, "y...yeah," you swallowed thickly, immediately moving to explain yourself, "but simon, i-"

"shhhh, don't say'a word, pre'ty thin', I'v got't." he coos lowly, petting your hair, rubbing the strands between the pads of his gloved fingers as he eyed the blood, "go take'a shower 'n look all pre'ty f'me, yeah? can'ya do'tha?"

your eyes darted around, but a firm grasp on your chin kept your attention to him. you swallowed thickly, meeting his eyes for the first time since he walked in, and nodded again. detaching from his side, you skidded down the hall to rid yourself of the dead man's blood.

after you disappeared into the bathroom, simon let out a deep sigh, "who the fuck is this?" he muttered gruffly to himself, shaking his head as he crouched near the body, tilting his head multiple ways as he examined further before shrugging it off, "wot'vr the missus wants."

yeah, he wouldn't question you. you wanted someone dead? had to be for a good reason, and he'll buy you a new rug after tossing that one. but he wouldn't tell you when the police dropped by about the disappearance of the man. don't wanna stress out the missus.

The Sin of Lust - Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Reader SMUT

Summary: You confide in Lucifer about just how unsatisfied your husband, Adam, is leaving you. Lucifer decides to show you a whole new, much more pleasurable side of things, a side that leaves you wanting even more of it.

Contents/Possible Warnings: Cheating (Reader is cheating on Adam w/ Lucifer), Side Adam x Reader, Religious themes, Religious guilt/shame, Cunnilingus, Masturbation, Fingering, P in V sex, cream pie, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, SMUT, MDNI, this shit is depraved in a good way 😊

Your favorite spot in the whole of Eden was a small clearing no different from the rest of the garden. It was hidden away just enough that your husband, Adam, didn't know of its existence; making it your little getaway spot. You'd come here often, especially on days like today; days where Adam was more annoying than usual.

It was your duty and sole reason for creation to serve him, and you were trying your best to show thanks to your Lord by fulfilling your purpose, but it was growing harder and harder every day. Adam wasn't a bad person at his core, but he was insufferable in more ways than one. He was arrogant, felt he was better than you simply because he had a dick, and constantly treated you like you were useless unless it came to sex.

Sex with your husband was okay, and that was all it was, just okay. It wasn't horrible, sometimes it felt nice, but Adam always left you unsatisfied; longing for something more that you couldn't identify. That's how it was last night, and that's how you were sure it'd be again today. That's why you retreated to where you were now.

You sat on the soft grass, basking in the comfortable silence that came with the lack of your husband's presence. All days were nice in Eden, but today was even more so; with the sun bathing you in the perfect amount of warmth and the melodic chirping of birds filling the air. You wished it could stay like this forever, but you knew all good things must eventually meet their end.

Sooner than later you'd have to return Adam, knowing that if you were gone too long he'd come looking for you. You were dreading it, to say the least. Maybe you could pretend to be sick tonight? Or maybe you could go to sleep early? Or maybe you—

"Adam's looking for you, y'know."

You turned your head toward the voice, spotting God's most beautiful angel himself: Lucifer. You had hoped you would see him. The Lord's angels weren't supposed to mingle with humans in the way Lucifer had always mingled with you; your meetings had always been a secret that you two kept under lock and key, both of you not wanting to know the outcome of his fellow angels, or your husband, catching you two.

"Lucifer!" You exclaimed happily, looking up at him as he hovered in the air, gorgeous ivory white wings holding him up. You opened your arms, and he came down, warmly embracing you. He tilted your chin up before pressing a loving kiss to your lips; it felt like it had been years since you last kissed him, even though it had merely been days.

"I missed you." He said, affectionately tucking back a stray lock of your hair. "Heaven's not the paradise it's supposed to be without you to be there with me." You smiled at his comment before the words he said earlier finally sunk in.

"Adam's looking for me? Fuck, I've been away too long." This was bad, really bad. You had never been gone long enough for Adam to go searching for you. He was going to ask questions, and you knew you couldn't answer them, at least not honestly.

"Don't worry, I 'helpfully' suggested he go in the opposite direction," Lucifer reassured you with an almost mischievous grin. Relief filled you, he had bought you more than enough time. "Thank you, Luci." You smiled, sitting back down on the grass, patting the spot next to you. Lucifer joined you, holding your hand in his after he had sat.

"I know you like your time away from Adam, but you've been away from him longer than usual. Is something bothering you? Did he do something...?" Lucifer questioned, voice soft and laced with concern. You nervously bit your lip, unsure of how to approach the topic without being too overwhelmingly blunt.

"I...." You began, pausing to take a deep breath, almost embarrassed by what you were going to say next. "I don't want to have sex with him, not today. Or ever." You admitted, shame filling you.

You were meant to fulfill your Husband's desires, it was why you were created. You already felt guilty about avoiding him today, along with your boundary-pushing relationship with Lucifer, so to finally verbalize how you had been feeling felt like you had just sinned in the worst way imaginable. You were failing to fulfill your sole reason for living.

"He leaves me unsatisfied, yearning for something more. I know it's selfish of me, I know it's downright sinful, but I wish that I could feel the same amount of pleasure Adam feels for just once in my life, even if its not needed for me to get pregnant." You refused to meet Lucifer's gaze. The angel had always been a good-intentioned rule-breaker, but at the end of the day, he was still an angel. One of the beings meant to carry out your creator's will, and your creator willed that you be submissive to your husband and birth his children.

Lucifer must be disgusted.

The last thing you expected was for him to begin pressing gentle kisses to your neck and collarbone, something you weren't entirely unfamiliar with, just not from him. It was the same thing Adam did to signal he wanted you, albeit Adam's kisses were much more hurried and sloppier; nowhere near as delightful as Lucifer's.

"L-Lucifer..." You breathed out, letting him lay you down and begin kissing lower and lower, all the way until his head was at your thighs. He placed his hands on them, but before he did anything, he looked up at you. "May I?" He asked, catching you off guard.

"W–What?" You stuttered in response. Your only other experience was with Adam, and while he knew that 'no' meant 'no', he was certainly more commanding than Lucifer was being right now.

"I need to know that you want this," Lucifer explained, lightly kissing the outside of your thigh. "I'm not him. You don't need to feel pressured into anything. I want you to be the one who feels good for once, yeah?"

You hesitated. Kissing Lucifer was one thing, but this was another; there'd be no going back from this. It felt wrong, it was wrong, but at the same time your desire for the man who made you feel things your husband never could was quickly overtaking you. You didn't just want this, you craved it. You needed it.

"Show me, Lucifer," You finally said, giving in, spreading your legs for him. "Show me what I've been missing out on." Lucifer placed a kiss on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your wet sex, before diving in like an animal starved. The feeling of his tongue licking at your cunt ignited a newfound ecstasy within you, your legs beginning to quiver not too long into it.

Your hands gripped at the grass beneath you, only got him to grab them, leading them to his hair. You grabbed at it instictively, pulling at the locks, eliciting a low moan from him; the vibrations sending a wave of pleasure coursing through you.

"Lucifer!" You cried out, feeling him sucking on your clit. You slapped a hand over your mouth, trying to muffle the lewd noises escaping you; as if it would lessen the sin of the act you were committing. His mouth left your needy pussy, his fingers replacing it soon after.

"No no no," He cooed, using his free hand to uncover your mouth. "Let me hear those sweet sounds you're making. Let me know how good you feel." You threw your head back with a pleasured whine as he curled his fingers inside of you, hitting a spot deep within you that had you seeing stars.

"Fuck—Your mouth, use your mouth—" You gasped, pulling his head back down, guiding him to where you needed him most by tugging at his hair. His fingers continued to fuck into you while his tongue lapped at whatever it could, the angel becoming drunk on your taste. His hand left your cunt, joining his other hand in locking your thighs in place as your legs trembled from the sensation of him going down on you.

"Close—So fucking close! Don't stop!" You pleaded. The impending feeling of orgasm was something you had felt before, but never before had you reached its climax; at least not until now. With one more 'come hither' motion of your lover's fingers, you were cumming for the first time in your life, your toes curling and a primal noise leaving you. He helped you ride out the waves of your orgasm, licking at your drenched sex, drinking up the juices of your climax until you couldn't take anymore, pushing his head away in a desperate attempt to escape the growing overstimulation.

Lucifer pulled away, eyes half-lidded and filled with mixed satisfaction and lust, your slick covering the corners of his mouth and fingers. He made a show of licking it off, moaning at the taste as it reached his tongue.

You let a content sigh, coming down from the absolute ecstasy you had experienced just moments prior. The feeling of contentment didn't last for long as you saw the bulge in Lucifer's pants; a sight that reignited the desires you had started with. To say he had done a good job would've been an understatement, but after finally witnessing just how amazing sex could feel, you knew you needed more.

You crawled into his lap, straddling him as you kissed, tasting yourself on his lips. You grinded down on him, and he separated from the kiss to let out a small groan. You continued your movements, feeling his cock growing harder through the fabric of his pants.

"Wait," He told you, placing his hands on your forearms in a signal for you to stop. You halted your actions, eyes widened in worry, and a blush creeping onto your face; scared you may have done something wrong. Did he not want you...?

"Hey, relax," He soothed, rubbing your arms comfortingly, taking notice of how you tensed up. "Do you want this? You're not obligated to return the favor or anything like that." You nodded in response. It was true, you wanted him more than anything. "I need you, need you so much." You rubbed down against him once more. "I need you inside of me, I need you to fuck me."

He smirked at your words, he had waited far too long to hear you say that. How many nights had he spent fucking into his hand, pretending it was your tight pussy, a hand clamped over his mouth so he wouldn't be caught by his fellow angels? To hear those words, so lewd and sinful, spill out of those perfect lips of yours sounded like music to his ears.

"I'm here to fulfill every single desire you have, honey." He purred, moving your hands down to the waistband of his pants. You pulled them down swiftly, his cock springing out. God, it was a sight to behold. You bit your lip, already imagining it inside of you; the leaky tip parting your folds, teasing you before finally thrusting in, the thickness of it stretching you out, and the length reaching that same sweet spot his fingers had touched earlier. It was everything you had ever wanted.

Your hands rested on his shoulders as he lined the tip up with your dripping cunt, giving you the honor of actually putting it in. You sunk down, sliding it in with ease. You moaned at the way he stretched you out, just as you imagined he would. His hands found your hips as you began to bounce on his cock, moans leaving you both.

You used him like you would a toy, something he had no problem with. You were lost in your own lust, focused purely on your pleasure; just the way Lucifer wanted it. There were no expectations placed on you except to put yourself first, to feel good for once. Lucifer wanted you to use him, and so you did.

"Fuck yes!" You cried, increasing your pace, the sound of skin on skin filling the air. Lucifer cursed, holding onto your hips hard enough to bruise. He moved one to your clit, rubbing at it, finding enjoyment in the way you threw your head back in ectasy at the combined sensations.

Your orgasm was sudden and caught you by surprise, your body trembling as it coursed through you. Your climax triggered his, and he spilled into you, warm cum filling you deep.

You pulled him in, lips finding his, pouring all of your love and passion for him into the kiss. You continued to kiss him sweetly as both of your orgasms subsided, enjoying the feeling of him still buried inside of you. That itch for more still resonated deep inside of you, and you were determined to satisfy it, even if it meant giving in to more and more of your sins.

Lucifer laid you down, lips never leaving yours as he began to move again; the same lustful urges having overtaken him as well. A second round turned into a third, and so on. You continued until you couldn't anymore, exhaustion being only what remained, and the day turning to night. All good things must come to an end, and eventually you bid Lucifer farewell.

Although you ended up bathing away the physical proof, your sin still remained as you returned to your husband.

"Where the FUCK have you been!?" Adam shouted upon seeing you, and you only ignored him, moving past the man and towards where you slept. Lucifer had awoken something within you, something equal parts liberating and devious. He had shown you a new world of possibilities, and you were more than ready to continue indulging in them.

The sins you had committed during your day were just the first of many, and you couldn't have been happier.

𝐦𝐝𝐧𝐢.

can't stop imagining how it'd feel to bounce on ellie's strap. she lets you preside, and prepares herself: waiting with a stupid grin and an open lap, she spits in her palm with audible ejection. “ptuh!” the glob is balled into a fist, then slathered down the forest-green length of her cock, adding dull shine to the veins. she observes, with indolent, low-lidded eyes, as you bring a leg over and your bare form melts with immediate ease; her lap is warm; a sigh lulls out. those thigh muscles tense under the pressure—the soft pressure of you pinning her further into the couch cushion.

she stares up and chuckles, “gonna put it in?” the obvious question. affirming it made her heart rush and her flesh whir with anticipation—she paws your waist to calm it, or attempt to. you shift through the gaps of her grip, replacing it with your hips that come up and angle above that tip. “am i going to?” you whisper, a delayed reply. god, you ruin this girl.

ellie shudders, tortured, her freckled cheeks flushed in red, watching the length disappear inside your hole. a long moan pushes her throat open. “ohh—fuck babe.” she comprehends how wet you true-as-hell are when her cock slides out, and your folds drag along them, painting a filthier gloss in their wake. she has to swallow herself. “fuck,” biting her lip and cursing again—since it's all she seems to remember; that single syllable. “how the fuck can you take all that?” the girl under you behaves like a congregant, and you, the god. the sounds of flesh slapping together fill the room before she can match your momentum. hurried hands travel your curves, grope your thighs and pull the flesh, spreading your cunt to make it simple; she fucks you right back—encouraged. “so f-fuckin' ho-ot babe. uhn-uh-uh, fuck!” not to mention: her cunt throbbing at the sight of your bouncing tits, and yours at hers, lined up with her needless thrusts. you're eager to shut her loud mouth with them.

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭.

You don't know why gojo is staring at you with tears pooled up in his beautiful aquamarine eyes.

You really didn't!

After all, you only said four words.

And now here he was, staring at you with a kicked puppy of a face, tears rolling down his cheeks and a over-exaggerated look of pure hopelessness slapped across his face.

"Y/N, my beloved, please don't break up with me, I can't do this again!"

You stare at him.

He stares at you, pleading with his eyes, a almost desperate, undertone layering his now hoarse voice.

"Please. I can't do this again, I can't have someone I love leave me again!"

"Bu-"

"And after suguru left, I can't seem to find myself, I only found home with you and only you! please, please I'm begging you don't do this to me-!"

And here you were, holding up a crying Gojo, holding up the 'strongest' as he wailed into your shoulder, staining your shirt with tears and snot.

"I'm not leaving you, 'toru, I promise."

"......I just wanted to go to KFC...."