Viktor X Male Reader - Blog Posts

Viktor Headcanons: dating a ftm!disabled!reader

➼ This is a very self-indulgent set of headcanons as a disabled trans man, but hey I hope you enjoy!

➼ Reader doesn't have a specific disability, I'm trying to be as general and inclusive as possible so a wide range of disabled persons can relate

➼ No beta we die like Silco

➼ Warnings: mentions of gender dysphoria

GIF does not belong to me! All credits to the owner

Mobility aids out the wazoo laying around you guy's room. Canes? Check. Walkers? Yep. Wheelchairs? You bet. Crutches? I could go on here people

He learns everything he can about your disabilities. I mean everything. Mans is staying up til the wee hours of the morning reading up on how to help you, general limitations from the disability, etc.

Will remind (and force) you to take breaks

"My love, you've been on your feet far too long. Sit down, I'll go get you a glass of water"

You're gonna have to do the same for him too, Viktor doesn't know how to take his own advice

The shower of course has a shower chair (if you need one) with everything within reach

Viktor keeps a section of clothes set aside for your bad dysphoria days. Whether that means baggier clothes, long sleeves, backup binders, his clothes that he always catches you stealing. Anything to try and make you feel more comfortable in your own skin

If you bind, he reminds you to take binding breaks. He'll make sure you can run off to your shared room to take that breather and not have to worry about people staring at you

Keeps easy food to make when you both don't have the energy to make anything

Your guy's bed? The comfiest ever. Lots of pillows, blankets, anything to help your joints and help you feel comfortable

Heat intolerant? Ac is cranked with fans. Cold intolerant? Well now it's the opposite

Uses his experience with hextech to invent new devices for you to help

"I know you said that you were struggling with your heart rate, so I made you a monitor. Small enough to wear under your shirt and it logs everything for a week so we can write it down. It also tells you what you were doing when it spikes or drops. Need some help putting it on?"

He's the first one to advocate for you, and the loudest. A building isn't ADA accessible? Oh, he's on it. Someone is being ableist? He has a sharp tongue and if all else fails, he has a cane too

You're both always there for the other's doctor's appointments. Viktor will drop his work to come with you (which is saying something since he'll deny food, water, and rest to continue his work)

He has a little trans pin on all of his clothes, it's one of his little ways to show you he loves you

If you ever get gender-affirming surgery, he's now doing his absolute best to take care of you while you're recovering. No heavy lifting, helping you get dressed, setting alarms to give you your prescriptions, fluffing up pillows (since you will be on bed rest for a while, doctor's orders), anything and everything he can do to make the healing process quicker and easier for you

"Y/N, if you try to get up one more time I will have to tie you to the damn bed. The doctor said no strenuous activity and to rest for a few days minimum. Rest, please"

Will loudly and aggressively correct people when they misgender you on purpose (he's nicer about it when it's a pure accident)

Can, will, and has yelled at your doctors before. Whether it was an appointment for your disabilities and they refused to take you seriously or if a doctor is 'not convinced' you're trans. Needless to say you never had to see those asshole doctors again

Helps you decorate your mobility aids, whether that be stickers, covers, or making add-ons for them (like a secure bag holder on your wheelchair, for example)

While Viktor isn't really one for shopping, he will happily take you to different shops to try and find you clothes that make you feel comfortable in your own skin. And of course afterwards you guys go out for a little treat, like ice cream or coffee

I've got an update on some fics! The next one that will be posted will be the Viktor fic from my poll, then I've gotten an amazing request for a continuation of Vi x f!reader at Stillwater! So be prepared for that, it won't be as happy as the first ;)

I’ve got two almost done and need to figure out which one y’all want first. And as always if you want a fic that isn’t on here, just ask!

Viktor Fic: Matching Scars

➼ As promised, an arcane character x reader fic!

➼ Viktor x m!reader, reader basically replaces Sky here. With some major differences of course. I won't give it away (you don't get dusted)

➼ No beta we die like Vander (at least til they finally release s2, November cannot come fast enough)

➼ Warnings: mentions of cutting (Viktor slicing his palm, the runes carved into his body) and a gun (the device he uses to inject the shimmer, couldn't think of a better word for it)

GIF doesn't belong to me! All credits to the original owner

Viktor steadied himself on his feet, holding the gun to his arm. Inside the device was a vial of shimmer, modified of course, the same vial that he used in his other..experiment. The same one that turned his injured right leg into the same purple hue as the vial’s contents. Singed was right, it worked. He no longer needed his cane, his limp that he was born with was finally gone. Now he just had to go a bit further, he didn’t have much time. Carved into his skin were runes identical to those on the hexcore. Finally, he pulled the trigger and waited for the pain, for the shimmer to course through his veins.

Only it never came. That searing, heart-wrenching pain was absent. As he unloaded the gun he checked the vial to see that there wasn’t even a drop of shimmer left. He was out. Going across the bridge to the Undercity again wasn’t an option. It was difficult enough to go through when the barricade first went up, but now with these carvings all over him? With his leg? Jayce wouldn’t understand. He’d simply have to go on without it, hope that the shimmer from his first test run was still pumping through his bloodstream and that he could withstand the process. Without any further delays, he took the knife and slit his palm, holding his hand out for the hexcore.

It was late at night. There should be no one to bother him. But there was. You were pacing up and down the halls just outside of the lab, rambling to yourself. "Viktor! Hey! I was just wondering if you'd mind looking over my notes- no, no" you sigh to yourself. "Viktor, I was hoping that whenever you're free, you'd be interested in- god I can't do this." This happened a few times before. Trying to pump yourself up to talk to the scientist only to chicken out before your hand could touch the handle. You've known Viktor since you were kids, you grew up in the Undercity together. Even if you two never got to spend too much time together, you've had your eye on Viktor for a while.

"No! No, not this time. You're doing this and that's final. So with no further delay, you finally laid your hand on the door handle, turning it and opening the door to finally ask Viktor out!

Only that didn't happen. Frozen in shock as you see Viktor with his hand on the hexcore, carvings littering his body, his injured leg an unnatural shade of purple and glowing, his hand taking on the same hue as he screamed in pain. Without thinking you lept forward, notebooks clattering to the ground as you wrapped your arms around Viktor's bare torso, trying to pull him away. "Viktor no! Stop!"

The longer you held on the more pain you were in, the more Viktor alternated between trying to pull himself off of the hexcore and trying to push you away. "Y/N, let go!" he yelled over the noise. Terror flooded his eyes as he saw the same purple scarring starting at your hands, the damned marks slowly creeping up your arms. His blood was fusing him to the wretched core, if this kept up someone was going to die. And something told Viktor that someone wouldn't be him.

Adreniline coursing through his viens and screams ringing in his ears, Viktor launched forward as far as he could, taking both you and himself to the ground. His hand was free, the hexcore rattling around violently as it ate away at the blood already inside it. Something deep within the arcane was calling to him, making the thought of leaving you and trying again cross his mind. That went out the window as soon as he saw you were hardly breathing. Not in good condition, but alive. That's all he could ask for. His own hand now had matching scars with both of your own.

He couldn't carry you, hell he could hardly carry himself. That didn't stop him from trying. Collecting his cane, he struggled to help you up and sling your arm over his shoulder. Slowly, oh so slowly, he hobbled back to his room, you leaning on him and Viktor heavily relying on his cane. Every so often you would groan or make some soft pained noise, causing him to whisper apologies. As soon as he reached his room he laid you down on his bed, tears finally falling down his cheeks.

"Y/N I'm so sorry...you were never supposed to get hurt..." his voice was shaky, trying so hard not to break and crack as he spoke. Weakly, you raised your hand to cup Viktor's cheek, a small smile spreading over your lips. "I'll take my apology by you going to dinner with me" you managed to get out between little gasps for air. It still felt like there wasn't enough air filling your lungs like a weight was placed on your chest. Turns out that weight was Viktor, he had leaned in to press your chests together, wanting to hear every word that left your lips. Despite everything, he found himself smiling right along with you, leaning his head into your hand. "I'll make us a reservation as soon as you feel better love."

Viktor pulled back, both to let you breathe and to collect his first aid supplies. He had been through this once before, and while there was nothing he could do to cure your hands, the kit had painkillers. The best solution he found was just moisturizing the scarred skin to avoid irritation. "Looks like you and I will be wearing gloves as a new outfit staple" he tried to lighten the mood, fetching a glass of water from the tap in the bathroom. He limped back to the bed, handing you the glass of water and two small pills. "It will help with the pain. The scars, however...from what I can devise they're permanent." You sat up slightly to take the meds, nodding along as Viktor began to expalin what he was doing with the hexcore. From the begining.

"...You're an idiot." You sighed, now lying in bed beside Viktor. He had gotten dressed, now in a simple shirt and pants. You were wearing one of his shirts as well, though remained in just your boxers. Pants would just make you overheat more. "You should've come to me, I could've helped. Or at least stopped you from your second attempt." Despite the light scolding you were giving him, he simply held you closer to his chest. "I didn't want to endanger anyone. Especially you" his voice grew quieter towards the end. Truth be told, he had a thing for you for a while now as well. Viktor was just afraid of messing up whatever was between you two. It was hard to stay mad at him when he was just looking out for you.

You closed your eyes, chest rising and falling steadily along with Viktor's. "Well we need to destroy that hexcore now. We'll deal with it in the morning. Together." There was no way you were leaving him alone with that thing again. "Together," Viktor agreed "Get some rest. We can have a late start tomorrow, lie in late for once. Goodnight, Y/N." he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, his good hand slowly rubbing up and down your back beneath your shirt. "Goodnight, Viktor." You whispered back, falling asleep in the comfort and safety of your new lover's arms.

Even if you now had some rather nasty-looking scars, you would have to say you wouldn't have it any other way. Viktor was still here, he wasn't a pile of ash, and even better he was here in your arms.

This totally isn't related to the fic that's in the works rn hush

Character x reader won! Currently writing a little Viktor x m!reader for everyone, should be out soon! I’m flying today so expect it this weekend. And if you have any character requests feel free to ask!

Coming back to this bc I genuinely fucking heart sub silco sm😍

I WILL fuck that old ass man

                     THE BAAAAD TOUCH!

synopsis. there’s a very thin line between the way animals fuck on the discovery channel and the way you fuck them. featuring shameless, rough sex with the arcane men, and a third secret option at the end. jayce, vander, silco, viktor.

tags. top! reader, sub! jayce, vander, silco, viktor. reader has a cock. rough anal sex, creampie(s), exhibitionism, infidelity, cumslut! jayce, doggy, riding, size difference, huge cock, belly bulge, size queen! viktor, sweat kink, strength kink, breeding kink, implied marathon sex, dirty talk, degradation, praise kink, excessive amounts of manhandling, age difference, established relationships. cock-hungrified men. (lmao)

a/n. inspired by this song from bloodhound gang.

“does she know?” you pant into his ear, grip strong and sweaty on his hips, and jayce feels dirty, the way he’s being mounted like a bitch. “does she know about the way i fuck you? the sounds you make when i fill your pretty hole up?”  

he shudders, shaking his head, nails raking down your biceps as he tries to lift his head, to be less vulnerable in the way you’re taking him, but to no avail. he feels the hot burn of your palm at the back of his neck, and he finds himself back with his cheek pressed against the sheets, back arching with the violence of forcing his body to accommodate both pleasure and pain plowing away at his dignity. 

 “fuck!” he gasps, “let’s not, nnngh! talk about this. not, not right now.” it’s not the first time you’ve brought mel up in a conversation, but hardly ever more than an offhand comment, something to tease, something for fun. this… this was unknown territory. 

“why? you don’t like it?” there’s a strange displacement in your voice, a touch whiny, as though you were pouting at his denial. jayce thinks he’s going insane, because as manipulative as you were, there was no way he could say no to you. not with that look on your face. the one he can’t see but knows it’s there. 

“doesn’t matter,” jayce whispers. “it’s not ri- right.” 

you want to laugh. it’s not right? so it’s all right and just if he sneaks into your bed almost every other night for you to get him off simply because said girlfriend never could—nights of sweat and sinful lovemaking that end with him sneaking out of your room with a limp—but it’s not okay if you want to talk about it? how was that fair? 

“you don’t like her anyway, do you?” you mutter. “you should just get rid of her and be with me.” you tighten your hold on him. you want it to bruise. you want him to go home with your marks on his body. you want mel to ask about them and jayce squirming as he tries to think of a stupid excuse to fool her again. faulty gym equipment. sparring session gone wrong. you know all of his excuses. it’s funny, the way he tries to patch things up. “this is cruel… to the both of us. don’t you wanna get this over with?” 

“it’s- unh, complicated!” jayce moans, but there’s nothing complicated about it, he just doesn’t want to talk. doesn’t want to feel the shame and guilt making his guts tangle and heart pound—the way you fit into him so perfectly, so innately, like you’ve always belonged inside him, a missing piece to his puzzle. 

he bites back a whine as the thick head of your cock pushes against his swollen prostate, and he’s not sure if he can even feel his legs at this point. it’s humiliating, the way you’re cooing nasty words into his ear, handprints branding his hips as you tug him up only to slam downwards against him, pushing him further down into the mattress with every heavy thrust. 

“why? what’s keeping you then? hah. don’t tell me. does she fuck you like this too?” you snarl, sucking hot purple bruises down the column of his neck, salt and iron underneath your tongue making you hungry, and he keens. “so desperate for cock you’d let your girlfriend fuck you, jayce? well? does she fuck you as good as i do?” 

“noo,” jayce slurs, shaking his head, “nothing’s as good. you’re the best. love it. love you.” 

“really?” you bark out a laugh, and he nods dumbly, like his body’s conditioned to respond to your every whim, wanting to please, to serve. “well, i don’t see it at all. only thing you could ever be in love with is my cock.” 

“ah- ah, yeah, that too,” he whines, “love you more.” 

“liar,” you growl, and he sobs out at the way your length drags across his walls, thick and girthy, missing his prostate on purpose. it’s a punishment, jayce knows. he’s sorry. he feels so guilty. “pretty slutty liar. you’ll do anything to get stuffed, won’t you? even if it means cheating on your little girlfriend. you’ll even enjoy it, the moment you break her heart.” 

jayce shakes his head, tears blurring his vision. he can’t even say anything at this point, with the way you’re forcing him to take, fucking the words out of him. he can’t help being addicted to this. it’s too good. mel would understand, wouldn’t she? she would, if only she could have a taste of it. it’s not his fault. not really. 

“you probably think she’ll never know. you probably think she’ll never find out.” you’re talking again, but the sounds buzz by, barely intelligible. jayce swallows, letting your accusation wash over him. he has been careful, hasn’t he. surely she won’t know. surely she can’t know. “the way you start crying when you’re about to cum. you think she’ll never know about that, right?” 

he doesn’t know what you mean, but it’s so hard to think. there’s wetness on his cheeks and the low flame in his belly has blazed into a forest fire. he wants to cum. he needs it. he needs it hard and rough, bruises on his waist and hips and love bites on his collarbones, hard, heavy thrusts that make him feel dizzy and high and stupid, drowning him in the throes of pleasure that only you can give to him. 

“please,” jayce begs, tears streaming down his face. “i want, ngh… ah, want your cum in me.” 

and before he knows it, there’s the rush of hot cum flooding his hole, the sweaty press of your chest against his back, your hips trembling and bucking against his, and it’s so good it makes him see stars. but you don’t stop. it’s messy and filthy, and pure bliss when he feels you snake a hand into his hair and wrench his head up, rough and careless just the way he likes it. 

his eyes roll back before his cock starts helplessly spurting at the sight of mel standing in the doorway, watching him being bred like a whore.

VANDER

. . . vander thinks he maybe maybe made a mistake, telling you to be rough with him. because this is exactly the kind of rough he likes. 

“oh, fuck, sweetness,” he moans, arousal bleeding into his guttural voice as he arches his back and cants his hips backwards to receive your thrusts, taking you deeper inside, his ass bouncing every time you meet his hips with a wet, nasty ‘pap’. “t-thaat’s it, kid. right there, fuck, harder…” 

he’s clutching his pillow tightly, waves of pleasure shackling him to the bed as you’re pounding away at his hole from behind. you’ve snaked a hand into his hair to wrench his head up roughly, and a low whine pushes its way past his lips, punctuated by a sharp, deadly thrust aimed at his prostate. he’s pretty sure his own cock’s rubbed raw against the sheets, spurting so much pre there’s a sticky, slippery pool underneath him—easing the steamy push and glide. 

there are stars bursting at the corners of his eyes, threatening to consume his vision, and he can vaguely feel his toes curl and thighs spasm at every brush of your cock against his bundle of nerves. there’s sweat dripping down his face, a salty tang on his tongue, and he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, hearing nothing but his own heavy pants and groans, attuned to the rhythm of your thrusts. it’s too good. almost makes him feel young again. he’s halfway through his forties, and yet you’re fucking him like he’s twenty. 

vander can feel your hands all over him, pressing heavy bruises onto the tender fat of his waist and hips, bodily dragging him back onto your cock every time you ram forward, making sure to put your entire weight behind it. the mattress is letting out horrible creaking sounds, the headboard of the bed slamming into the wall in perfect tempo, and the both of you are going to regret this later, but fuck, he doesn’t care. 

it’s addicting. it’s violent. vander shouldn’t be enjoying this, but he is. 

“fuck, love, y’er gonna make me cum already,” he chokes out, and it’s more of a drunken slur, really — there’s something about the way you’re treating him that makes him dizzy and weak at the knees. his fists are clenched, grasping at the bedsheets every time he feels like snaking a hand between his legs and jerking off to your thrusts. he wants to enjoy it, savour it—the way you’re taking him, pressing him into the mattress like you’re trying to break the bed before you break him, gaze hungry enough to swallow him up in your lust. 

“go ahead and cum, vander,” you drawl, grabbing a handful of his ass before sharply spanking him across, the sting rewarding you with a full-body shiver. “i want you to cum like it’s your last night on earth.” 

who the absolute fuck does this kid think he is, vander thinks, and he quickly buries his face back into the pillow because he knows he’s going to get loud. you’re insane. insanely bad at dirty talk, but your hunger makes up for it. he’s never liked dirty talking that much, but fuck, if you weren’t something different. cum like it’s his last night on earth? he really underestimated how greedy you were. 

“cocky,” he wheezes instead, once he’s caught his breath, “y’er gonna, haah, hafta fuck me harder for that to happen.” it’s yet another bad decision, and he’s digging his own grave, he knows it. as if you aren’t already fucking him within an inch of his life—the bulbous shape of your cockhead digging into his prostate with such immaculate precision, pressing the shape of your handprints into his skin as you fuck him with your eyes, your hands and your cock. 

hungry. intense. unforgettable. vander doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of it. 

before he can even breathe, you’ve hooked one arm under his thigh, tossing him over onto his back like you’re flipping a fucking pancake, and vander’s not a delicate man by all means. without wasting a second, you’re pushing inside him again, groaning shamelessly as his wet, warm cave engulfs you perfectly. vander makes a desperate noise, eyes squeezing shut—there’s no pillow to muffle his cries or hide his expressions from you this time, but he’s far too close to be embarrassed. 

the new position’s got you so deep inside him, and it’s getting harder to breathe, almost as though he could feel you all the way to his throat. it’s uncomfortable and very inconsiderate of his aching back, but the mind-numbing pleasure hammering away at his sweet spot makes up for it. 

“s-so fuckin’ good, kid,” he pants out, arching his back with a moan as you reach down to grope at his tits, the muscles plump and soft with tender age, hole clenching around you tightly every time you tug at his perky nipples. his cock’s all leaky, drooling over his stomach and making a mess, and he’s so aroused it’s almost endearing. “fuck me… god, fuck me.” 

he’s going to cum hands-free, vander thinks, and shit, you’re going to be so smug about this after you’re done with having your way with him. vander sneaks a glance at you—eyelids fluttering, making little grunts of pleasure every time you bully your way into his tight wet warmth. it embarrassingly makes the back of his neck burn, makes him feel all hot and sexy and wanted. 

“yeah? best cock you’ve ever taken, vander?” you purr, and his breath stutters, seizing up with a yell and then he’s fucking cumming with you balls-deep inside him. guess you’ll take that as a yes.

SILCO

silco doesn’t know how long he’s been bent over in that same fucking position, but he doesn’t plan on making you stop anytime soon. 

“darling, not so rough. . .” he gasps out, nails raking down the expensive wood of his office desk while you plow away at him from behind, his hole sopping wet but tight, as though you haven’t cum two times in him already. he can feel his knees knocking into the hard front of the desk with every brutal thrust, the weeping tip of his erection grazing the cool mahogany, the pleasure inside him making his lower belly burn with a flame he hasn’t felt in a long time. 

“why?” you grin, draping yourself over his half-clothed stature, his pants yanked down to his ankles as he’s bent over to take. you shuffle forward, making sure his ass is pressed snugly against your crotch before giving an experimental roll of your hips, always reaching deeper, for more. “worried that they’ll hear?” 

silco presses his lips together in a thin line, tilting his face away from yours, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he were sulking. you laughed. it was just too easy to piss him off sometimes. 

“i’m just playing around, baby. your office is soundproofed, no?” you straightened yourself, running a hand over the smooth, sensitive expanse of his back before returning to your firm grip on his bruised hips. he gave a shuddering sigh, trying to relax as you started to rock into him again with strong, steady thrusts. 

“it doesn’t matter,” he rasps, “we’re, hah, being too loud… sweetheart. s-sevika is right outside.” 

“don’t care,” you mutter. “i’m pent up. ‘least you can do is let me fuck you stupid. you’ll let me, right?” 

silco makes a noise at the back of his throat, half from displeasure, the other half from the sharp curl of arousal in his lower abdomen, making his cock twitch and leak. fuck if it didn’t turn him on when you talked to him like this. he settles for burying his face into his arms, preparing himself for whatever you were going to put him through. 

“be gentle,” he whispers, letting out a shuddering sigh. “i’m not so young anymore.” 

you could feel a grin pulling at the corners of your lips. yeah. sure, you were going to be gentle with him. with him looking like that. 

“hngh, r-right there…” silco mewls out, knees buckling repeatedly as he tries not to think about how loud he’s being. he supposes he could gag himself with something, your fingers, maybe, get them warm and wet for you while you use his face as leverage to fuck him harder, but he knows how much his noises spur you on, and right now he really doesn’t want to piss you off. not when you’re indulging him so well. “that’s it… you’re so good… darling.” 

“not so shy anymore?” you hummed, licking a hot stripe up his neck, his gasp twisting into a whine. “think we can make you louder?” 

“sweetheart,” he sighs as he feels your hand wrap around his throat, and he tilts his head back to let you grip it properly. “you already know what i want.” 

“well, i don’t think so.” you smile, leaning down to press your cheek against his, working away from behind with short, firm thrusts that steal his breath away. “remind me. did we use the magic word yet?” 

but just as he’s about to answer with snark, there’s the rap of fists against his office door, and silco feels his heart plummet. not now, when things were about to get good—this was the worst timing possible. “everything alright, boss?” 

“yes,” silco pants, “fuck… yes.” 

you can feel his nails dig into the back of your thigh, warning you not to pull out. you’re thick and heavy, resting against his stomach, and silco feels so fucking good and full. you can’t stop now. not until he’s had his fill. he can vaguely feel your warm seed trailing its way down his perineum in a slow trickle, and fuck, he wants more. wants to feel stuffed even without you inside him, drowsy and content. 

he blinks, brows furrowing as he catches himself fantasizing about you yet again. should he even be having thoughts like these in his forties? was this healthy? sex with you was life-changingly—and now apparently hormone-alteringly good. 

“sir?” sevika’s growl interrupts his train of thought. and yeah, not to mention—his second-in-command is right outside his office, while all he can think about is cock. shit. your big, leaky cock, buried to the hilt inside his hole. he wonders if it’ll be gaping once you’re done with him. and oh. cum. loads of your cum, filling up every inch of space inside him. making it hard to breathe. making him swel— “is someone in there with you?” 

“yes,” silco wheezes dumbly as you roll your hips against him with meaning, forcing him to take you deeper. he trembles, shifting back slightly to fuck himself on your cock, forcing a sharp inhale from you. “we are busy. you’re, oh… dismissed, sevika.” 

the silence is loud, save for the almost-silent squelches of your cock maneuvering inside him with all the cum stored in his belly. 

you can feel his heart pounding from the way your chest is pressed against his bare back. or maybe it’s your own. his walls squeeze around you, sinfully tight, pulling a muffled moan from where you have your teeth sunken into his shoulder. fuck. he’s—silco’s actually into this. you’d have never guessed he would be such a freak, for lack of a better word, but with how things were going . . . you didn’t mind it. not one bit. it drove you crazy with want, if anything. 

“... if you say so, boss.” the sound of retreating footsteps fills you with both relief and disappointment, but before you could even process what that means, you can feel silco gazing at you through his lashes, low and scrutinizing and something needy. 

“did i say you could stop?” silco grunts. “fuck me.” 

you let out a shaky sigh, hips already bucking back into the warm mould of your cock—and the next sound that drives past his lips is a loud and unabashed sob of your name. 

you think you might have unlocked something new in your lover.

VIKTOR

“it won’t fit,” viktor slurs, moans tumbling out of his mouth as he gives a shaky roll of his hips. he’s not quite there yet, with only the tip sucked in, but he’s making good progress. “i’m terribly s-sorry, dear. your… appendage. it’s too big.” 

his eyes flutter shut at the feeling of your hands forming a ring around his waist, strong and firm, a warm assurance that there was a possibility… although slight, that he’d make it. 

“it’ll fit,” you murmur, kissing the sensitive spot at the back of his ear, the one that makes him suck in a sharp breath and shudder. “you’re doing very good, love. just… a little more, yeah?” 

viktor looks down. it’s nowhere near a little more. you’re barely halfway in and he’s already thinking about quitting—has been, since the stupidly huge head of your cock breached his rim, making him feel a stretch that no amount of fingers or plastic toys could replicate. it was something extraordinary. overwhelmingly so. 

“please,” he mewls, forehead dropping to rest on your shoulder. “t-touch me? i think i’ll probably, hah, ease up a little if you would… oh, yes. thank you, dear. thank you.” 

it’s… in simple words, too much. you’re usually very considerate, taking your time with him with your fingers, rubbing on his tender walls until he loosens enough for you to slip another one in. the night would then end with you fucking his thighs, sticky and slick with his own cum. it’s good. it’s enough. that was until he started having thoughts of what it would feel like if you were inside him. 

but viktor would’ve never imagined it would be like this. the difference in size was just… comical. you were so deep inside him already, the impossible girth forming an obscene bulge over his abdomen, making him whine with the fullness. if this is already what it feels like to have you inside, then just what would it feel like to have you spill inside him?

he can’t lie—he’s spent nights waiting for you to fall asleep first so that he could scoop up some of the cum you had missed on the sheets, quietly fingering himself with the cold slickness. it didn’t feel right, even if it was yours. it just wasn’t the same. he wanted, no, needed to feel it for himself. 

it doesn’t help, the way you’re stroking him, ever so gentle with him. your huge palm covers his entire length without having to move much, huge thumb rubbing at his leaking tip, and viktor’s never been so hard before in his whole life. he’s so close already, hole fluttering around you uncontrollably, and it’s almost cute how it looks like it’s going to swallow you up. maybe it is. 

maybe it’ll fit. 

“last few inches,” you pant, fingers trembling slightly where you’re struggling not to press bruises into the cup of his hips. “can i-? please, vik. it’s so good. you’re so good. i just need a little more. please, baby.” 

“yes,” viktor blurts out, before he realises just what he agreed to—but within the next second he can feel something abnormally large pushing its way past his tight walls, faster and rougher than before, even as he tries to clench and hold still—it’s mean and a little too much, but then the back of his thighs meets hot skin and he nearly blacks out with the stretch of it all. 

“ngh,” viktor keens, trembling with exhaustion as he tries to settle into your lap comfortably with such a large intrusion within him. “soo full…” 

you sigh in pleasure, hands going back to his hips where they belong, pushing him down until you’re satisfied that he’s properly taken everything you’ve given him. it’s not a demand, viktor thinks, more like a comfort. telling him that you’ve always known he would’ve been able to take you in the first place. that this is where he belongs, filled to the brim with you and you only. 

he lets out a shuddering moan when you start to slowly bounce him on your lap, lifting him up with ease a good inch or two, before rolling your hips to meet his, pushing yourself deeper. “shit, vik…” you groan, and he cries out with every brush against his prostate, the sheer size of you making it impossible to miss it. “you’re so tight, baby… so perfect. i’m right here with you, okay? easy now, you’re doing so good.” 

you’re so good to him as always, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, but it’s different this time, and fuuck. viktor thinks he’s dying with how good it feels. he tries to steer his hips, to actually ride you instead of having you manhandling him up and down your cock, but there’s hardly any friction left now that he’s properly stretched, and any attempt results in him collapsing back to his knees, the pleasure making him weak. 

he settles for hanging onto you, arms wrapping around your neck and choking out little whimpers as you rock upwards into his waiting hole again and again, toes curling and nails scratching red trails down your back with the all-consuming pleasure.

it’s driving him crazy, the fullness, the simple thought of you pumping your seed and sperm into him, of making love with you. it’s nothing like the way it was written in the textbooks he had spent nights researching—it’s beyond anything he would have ever imagined. 

“please,” viktor sobs out, feeling strangely empty every time you pull out halfway, as ironic as it was—as though there was a chance you would leave him fully. the thought of it hurt. if only you could fit inside him forever. if only. “stay…” he cries, “cum inside. m-make me yours.” 

you lean forward, pressing your lips against his in a hurried kiss, at the same time grinding so deep viktor thinks, for a split of a second, that that might be you he’s feeling in his stomach. the broken wail he gives is loud and muffled, and you lap up the drool on the side of his face, watching as your lover’s eyes flutter shut at the feeling of being filled, properly this time, to the brink of spilling.

masterlist!

AHHHHH I LOVE GOOD WRITING YOU GUYS

dialogue is 10/10🤧

trans!vik getting all annoyed bc (reader) yapped and mocked how a strap can’t even please someone because it’s just plastic… so he’s gonna prove them wrong… pretty please

ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THAT? - VIKTOR X READER

synopsis: you've been told ever since you were young, that one day your big mouth is going to get you in trouble. After another failed date, your roommate offers to have a few drinks; and for you to bitch to him about these horrid dates. You say one thing that makes him want to prove you wrong, and prove you wrong he does.

warnings: trans!viktor (post-op for his chest), gender-neutral terms for R until smut scene where R is described as AFAB, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, teasing, dirty talk, degradation/praise, hand/finger kink, voice kink, Grammarly as my beta

genre: m/f or m/m (if you're good with AFAB smut scene)

p.s. Unless asked, I typically assume smut will be AFAB. I can write m/m smut (ie. Steddie on my ao3 account) but I've only had one person specifically ask for a male!reader getting his freak nasty on. So I hope y'all are ok with that

You’re gonna swear off men, honestly! They're useless! The dates are subpar, their manners are atrocious, and the sex is awful!

You say harder, they go faster. You say faster, they go harder. You tell them don't stop, they change the whole momentum. You have to constantly shove their hand back to your clit, but they love rubbing your left lip raw.

The door slams shut as you enter the apartment, you're huffing and stomping the whole way to your room. Until a lovely accented voice stops you in your tracks, “Bad date?”

“The worst!” you explode, damn near ripping your hair out, “I’m swearing off men, I'm done!”

Viktor’s lips thin as he holds in his laugh, “That bad? Wanna bitch to me as we have a few shots?”

You look at him, your eyes wide in admiration, “Please? I love you, oh my god!”

“Go get comfortable, feel like we're going to be talking for a while.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You've changed into your pajamas, an oversized shirt and pj shorts. You see Viktor already sitting on the couch with a bottle of sourpuss blue liquor. You giggle at his choice, it's one of your favourites. It tastes like blue raspberry jolly ranchers and it's like 15% alcohol. Strong enough to get you buzzed and not wake up with a hangover.

You bound over to the couch and hop into your spot, a shot is already poured for you and you take it gratefully and shoot it back.

"Men are awful. They don't listen to instructions, don't know what foreplay is, and completely focus on themselves. I should just stick with my vibrator."

Viktor chokes as he laughs, "It's sad that you're right." Viktor takes his shot, "You deserve better."

You smile at the handsome man. God, why can't you build up the guts to flirt with him? He's so beautiful, both inside and out. You've had a crush on him ever since you met him but he became such a good friend; you didn't want to ruin it.

"Thanks Viktor."

He pours two more shots, he shoots his back and he hands you yours. You stare at him, his long neck, his pretty side profile. God, he's ruining you and he's not even doing anything to you.

"Why don't you hook up with a woman? Or a trans man? They'll know what they're doing."

"Uh..." You stutter out, you take your shot, "Real dick doesn't feel that good, I can't imagine a plastic one feeling any good. Also, I want my partner to feel pleasure too!"

Viktor's golden eyes narrow at you, and you feel small under his stare, "We do."

"Do what?"

The pretty mans demeanor freezes, his eyes dart across your face as his lips purse, "You don't know?"

"Know what?"

"I'm trans."

You lick your lips and hum in consideration, "I would've never assumed. I always thought you were just a very handsome man."

Viktor deeply inhales as he looks at you, his eyes darken, "Handsome?"

You bite your lip and Viktor's eyes immediately zero in on it, "Mhmm."

"So..." Viktor starts as he casually leans back, his arm draped across the back of the couch, his fingers playing with your hair, "Shall I show you how good plastic can feel?"

There's only one thing you can say to that.

"Yes please."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Viktor ushers you to his room, it's nice and tidy with a cluttered desk, there's some posters and pictures on his walls, you don't get a clear look because before you know it; Viktor is kissing you.

His lips are soft and you quietly moan at the feeling. God this is already feeling better than all the hookups you've had to endure.

You gasp in shock as Viktor pushes you onto his bed. He get's on top of you, straddling your waist and kisses you again. He pulls away and you feel like you can't breath, he's so hot you feel like your brain is malfunctioning.

He fiddles with the hem of your top and looks imploringly at you, you nod quickly and then you're half naked in front of your best friend. You're tempted to cover your chest but you don't when you catch the look on Viktor's face. It's hungry, he licks his lips as he observes every inch of exposed skin. He brings his hands up to your chest and fondles it, pinching your nipples, he drags his hands down so his nails scrap your sides, he rubs your hips.

You're getting kissed again, then he moves to your check, down your neck to your chest, down your abdomen; leaving a trail of hickeys his way. His fingers hook into the top of your shorts and he tilts his head to the side, "May I?" his voice is rich, deep, and rumbly.

You whine out a yes as you nod. Then you're fully naked in front of Viktor as he's still fully clothed in his own t-shirt and lounge pants.

A broken moan escapes your lips as he kisses and nips your thighs, sucking your clit into his mouth. Fuck fuck fuck. He's amazing. You squeal when he adds a finger into your entrance. His long, nimble finger searching until you cry out. He found your g-spot.

He adds another finger and abuses your pussy and he sucks harshly on your clit. God, you could've had this this entire time if you had the guts to flirt with Viktor. Maybe even just asking him would work.

That's how he got you here in the first place.

You cum with a shout and grip his hair tightly. He doesn't let up, doesn't change anything about his pace or strength. He only stops when you pitifully whine and push his head away.

He does as he's told, his face is red, his lips are shiny, and he climbs up and kisses you. You can taste yourself on his lips, it's kind of a turn on.

Viktor gets up and strips himself of his shirt and pants, now he's completely nude. He's lean, lithe, but still has a small bit of muscle on him. You have to squint to see his scars on his chest, they're small and incredibly well healed.

Your eyes trail down and you see a happy trail. Then there's a small bush of auburn curls surrounding his dick. His lips are flushed and puffy. You can see a shimmer of arousal.

A chuckle is heard, "Take a picture, it'll last longer."

He walks to his nightstand and pulls out a strap, a nice sized cock, and a bottle of lube. He harnesses himself, inserts the cock, and get's back into bed with you, "You ready?"

"Please, I need it." You whine out as you open your legs farther. Viktor growls and opens the lube, coating his cock and your entrance, you gasp at the cold feeling.

He positions himself and slowly pushes in. His phenomenal head game and the lube has made the slide incredibly easy. You hear a slight squish and you feel like dying.

Viktor stills for a moment, "You okay? Can I continue?"

You just nod and grasp at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. He slowly but surely starts to pound into you, and you're a moaning mess.

He chuckles, "Plastic doesn't feel good, huh? Look at you, you're taking it like a needy slut. You're so good for me. So pretty. I've wanted to do this for months."

"Fuck, Viktor. Please keep talking! You sound so good."

"Yeah? You like my voice? You're not very subtle. I see how you shift in your seat as I talk to you, when I yell. You bite your lip and flutter your eyes like a common whore. Don't get me started on how you look at me when I work with my hands."

You whine in embarrassment, your pussy clenching as more arousal leaves you, "You can't blame me! You're so nonchalantly hot it's frustrating! I've wanted you for so long, with my stupid embarrassing crush on you. But I didn't want to ruin anything." You state in between moans.

Viktor halts for a second before truly pounding you into the bed, "Fuck! We could've been doing this all this time but you had to go out and fuck other people. You need to make it up to me."

"I will, I promise! Fuck you're gonna make me cum."

All you can do is squeal as a massive orgasm takes over you, Viktor thrusts a few more times before he stops, a shiver wracking his body as he groans.

He slowly pulls out of you, unhooks his strap, and plops onto his back next to you, "Did you cum?" You breathily ask. Viktor laughs at that, "You sound like all those guys you complained about." "Shut up. Did you, it looked like you did but I couldn't feel it."

"I did. My harness has a vibrator option so I get to feel good too."

"Oh," You sigh, trying to catch your breath, "if you didn't cum I was going to tell you to sit on my face."

"I lied, I didn't cum."

You laugh and smack him in the arm, he laughs with you and cuddle up.

"Next time." He says contently as he wraps his arms around you, putting his chin on top of your head. You smile at that, "Next time."

A small silence is shared before you break it, "We're dating now, right?" Viktor snorts at your question, "I thought we we're on the same page, guess not. Yes darling, we're dating now."

"Good." You state as you kiss his collar bone, the two of you shimmy under the duvet and pass out. The thin white sheet perfect for keeping you comfortable.

You can't wait for next time.

BRO WHEN I FIRST WROTE THIS MY APP GLITCHED AND ALL THE WRITING I DID AFTER THE READ MORE SPLIT WAS DELETED!!! I SWITCHED TO MY LAPTOP AFTER THAT

I was so mad I was calm, I re-wrote everything so I hope y'all like it! ❤️

Dom Reader>>>> FOAMING AT THE MOUTH‼️‼️‼️

I love good writing 🤧

                     THE BAAAAD TOUCH!

synopsis. there’s a very thin line between the way animals fuck on the discovery channel and the way you fuck them. featuring shameless, rough sex with the arcane men, and a third secret option at the end. jayce, vander, silco, viktor.

tags. top! reader, sub! jayce, vander, silco, viktor. reader has a cock. rough anal sex, creampie(s), exhibitionism, infidelity, cumslut! jayce, doggy, riding, size difference, huge cock, belly bulge, size queen! viktor, sweat kink, strength kink, breeding kink, implied marathon sex, dirty talk, degradation, praise kink, excessive amounts of manhandling, age difference, established relationships. cock-hungrified men. (lmao)

a/n. inspired by this song from bloodhound gang.

“does she know?” you pant into his ear, grip strong and sweaty on his hips, and jayce feels dirty, the way he’s being mounted like a bitch. “does she know about the way i fuck you? the sounds you make when i fill your pretty hole up?”  

he shudders, shaking his head, nails raking down your biceps as he tries to lift his head, to be less vulnerable in the way you’re taking him, but to no avail. he feels the hot burn of your palm at the back of his neck, and he finds himself back with his cheek pressed against the sheets, back arching with the violence of forcing his body to accommodate both pleasure and pain plowing away at his dignity. 

 “fuck!” he gasps, “let’s not, nnngh! talk about this. not, not right now.” it’s not the first time you’ve brought mel up in a conversation, but hardly ever more than an offhand comment, something to tease, something for fun. this… this was unknown territory. 

“why? you don’t like it?” there’s a strange displacement in your voice, a touch whiny, as though you were pouting at his denial. jayce thinks he’s going insane, because as manipulative as you were, there was no way he could say no to you. not with that look on your face. the one he can’t see but knows it’s there. 

“doesn’t matter,” jayce whispers. “it’s not ri- right.” 

you want to laugh. it’s not right? so it’s all right and just if he sneaks into your bed almost every other night for you to get him off simply because said girlfriend never could—nights of sweat and sinful lovemaking that end with him sneaking out of your room with a limp—but it’s not okay if you want to talk about it? how was that fair? 

“you don’t like her anyway, do you?” you mutter. “you should just get rid of her and be with me.” you tighten your hold on him. you want it to bruise. you want him to go home with your marks on his body. you want mel to ask about them and jayce squirming as he tries to think of a stupid excuse to fool her again. faulty gym equipment. sparring session gone wrong. you know all of his excuses. it’s funny, the way he tries to patch things up. “this is cruel… to the both of us. don’t you wanna get this over with?” 

“it’s- unh, complicated!” jayce moans, but there’s nothing complicated about it, he just doesn’t want to talk. doesn’t want to feel the shame and guilt making his guts tangle and heart pound—the way you fit into him so perfectly, so innately, like you’ve always belonged inside him, a missing piece to his puzzle. 

he bites back a whine as the thick head of your cock pushes against his swollen prostate, and he’s not sure if he can even feel his legs at this point. it’s humiliating, the way you’re cooing nasty words into his ear, handprints branding his hips as you tug him up only to slam downwards against him, pushing him further down into the mattress with every heavy thrust. 

“why? what’s keeping you then? hah. don’t tell me. does she fuck you like this too?” you snarl, sucking hot purple bruises down the column of his neck, salt and iron underneath your tongue making you hungry, and he keens. “so desperate for cock you’d let your girlfriend fuck you, jayce? well? does she fuck you as good as i do?” 

“noo,” jayce slurs, shaking his head, “nothing’s as good. you’re the best. love it. love you.” 

“really?” you bark out a laugh, and he nods dumbly, like his body’s conditioned to respond to your every whim, wanting to please, to serve. “well, i don’t see it at all. only thing you could ever be in love with is my cock.” 

“ah- ah, yeah, that too,” he whines, “love you more.” 

“liar,” you growl, and he sobs out at the way your length drags across his walls, thick and girthy, missing his prostate on purpose. it’s a punishment, jayce knows. he’s sorry. he feels so guilty. “pretty slutty liar. you’ll do anything to get stuffed, won’t you? even if it means cheating on your little girlfriend. you’ll even enjoy it, the moment you break her heart.” 

jayce shakes his head, tears blurring his vision. he can’t even say anything at this point, with the way you’re forcing him to take, fucking the words out of him. he can’t help being addicted to this. it’s too good. mel would understand, wouldn’t she? she would, if only she could have a taste of it. it’s not his fault. not really. 

“you probably think she’ll never know. you probably think she’ll never find out.” you’re talking again, but the sounds buzz by, barely intelligible. jayce swallows, letting your accusation wash over him. he has been careful, hasn’t he. surely she won’t know. surely she can’t know. “the way you start crying when you’re about to cum. you think she’ll never know about that, right?” 

he doesn’t know what you mean, but it’s so hard to think. there’s wetness on his cheeks and the low flame in his belly has blazed into a forest fire. he wants to cum. he needs it. he needs it hard and rough, bruises on his waist and hips and love bites on his collarbones, hard, heavy thrusts that make him feel dizzy and high and stupid, drowning him in the throes of pleasure that only you can give to him. 

“please,” jayce begs, tears streaming down his face. “i want, ngh… ah, want your cum in me.” 

and before he knows it, there’s the rush of hot cum flooding his hole, the sweaty press of your chest against his back, your hips trembling and bucking against his, and it’s so good it makes him see stars. but you don’t stop. it’s messy and filthy, and pure bliss when he feels you snake a hand into his hair and wrench his head up, rough and careless just the way he likes it. 

his eyes roll back before his cock starts helplessly spurting at the sight of mel standing in the doorway, watching him being bred like a whore.

VANDER

. . . vander thinks he maybe maybe made a mistake, telling you to be rough with him. because this is exactly the kind of rough he likes. 

“oh, fuck, sweetness,” he moans, arousal bleeding into his guttural voice as he arches his back and cants his hips backwards to receive your thrusts, taking you deeper inside, his ass bouncing every time you meet his hips with a wet, nasty ‘pap’. “t-thaat’s it, kid. right there, fuck, harder…” 

he’s clutching his pillow tightly, waves of pleasure shackling him to the bed as you’re pounding away at his hole from behind. you’ve snaked a hand into his hair to wrench his head up roughly, and a low whine pushes its way past his lips, punctuated by a sharp, deadly thrust aimed at his prostate. he’s pretty sure his own cock’s rubbed raw against the sheets, spurting so much pre there’s a sticky, slippery pool underneath him—easing the steamy push and glide. 

there are stars bursting at the corners of his eyes, threatening to consume his vision, and he can vaguely feel his toes curl and thighs spasm at every brush of your cock against his bundle of nerves. there’s sweat dripping down his face, a salty tang on his tongue, and he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, hearing nothing but his own heavy pants and groans, attuned to the rhythm of your thrusts. it’s too good. almost makes him feel young again. he’s halfway through his forties, and yet you’re fucking him like he’s twenty. 

vander can feel your hands all over him, pressing heavy bruises onto the tender fat of his waist and hips, bodily dragging him back onto your cock every time you ram forward, making sure to put your entire weight behind it. the mattress is letting out horrible creaking sounds, the headboard of the bed slamming into the wall in perfect tempo, and the both of you are going to regret this later, but fuck, he doesn’t care. 

it’s addicting. it’s violent. vander shouldn’t be enjoying this, but he is. 

“fuck, love, y’er gonna make me cum already,” he chokes out, and it’s more of a drunken slur, really — there’s something about the way you’re treating him that makes him dizzy and weak at the knees. his fists are clenched, grasping at the bedsheets every time he feels like snaking a hand between his legs and jerking off to your thrusts. he wants to enjoy it, savour it—the way you’re taking him, pressing him into the mattress like you’re trying to break the bed before you break him, gaze hungry enough to swallow him up in your lust. 

“go ahead and cum, vander,” you drawl, grabbing a handful of his ass before sharply spanking him across, the sting rewarding you with a full-body shiver. “i want you to cum like it’s your last night on earth.” 

who the absolute fuck does this kid think he is, vander thinks, and he quickly buries his face back into the pillow because he knows he’s going to get loud. you’re insane. insanely bad at dirty talk, but your hunger makes up for it. he’s never liked dirty talking that much, but fuck, if you weren’t something different. cum like it’s his last night on earth? he really underestimated how greedy you were. 

“cocky,” he wheezes instead, once he’s caught his breath, “y’er gonna, haah, hafta fuck me harder for that to happen.” it’s yet another bad decision, and he’s digging his own grave, he knows it. as if you aren’t already fucking him within an inch of his life—the bulbous shape of your cockhead digging into his prostate with such immaculate precision, pressing the shape of your handprints into his skin as you fuck him with your eyes, your hands and your cock. 

hungry. intense. unforgettable. vander doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of it. 

before he can even breathe, you’ve hooked one arm under his thigh, tossing him over onto his back like you’re flipping a fucking pancake, and vander’s not a delicate man by all means. without wasting a second, you’re pushing inside him again, groaning shamelessly as his wet, warm cave engulfs you perfectly. vander makes a desperate noise, eyes squeezing shut—there’s no pillow to muffle his cries or hide his expressions from you this time, but he’s far too close to be embarrassed. 

the new position’s got you so deep inside him, and it’s getting harder to breathe, almost as though he could feel you all the way to his throat. it’s uncomfortable and very inconsiderate of his aching back, but the mind-numbing pleasure hammering away at his sweet spot makes up for it. 

“s-so fuckin’ good, kid,” he pants out, arching his back with a moan as you reach down to grope at his tits, the muscles plump and soft with tender age, hole clenching around you tightly every time you tug at his perky nipples. his cock’s all leaky, drooling over his stomach and making a mess, and he’s so aroused it’s almost endearing. “fuck me… god, fuck me.” 

he’s going to cum hands-free, vander thinks, and shit, you’re going to be so smug about this after you’re done with having your way with him. vander sneaks a glance at you—eyelids fluttering, making little grunts of pleasure every time you bully your way into his tight wet warmth. it embarrassingly makes the back of his neck burn, makes him feel all hot and sexy and wanted. 

“yeah? best cock you’ve ever taken, vander?” you purr, and his breath stutters, seizing up with a yell and then he’s fucking cumming with you balls-deep inside him. guess you’ll take that as a yes.

SILCO

silco doesn’t know how long he’s been bent over in that same fucking position, but he doesn’t plan on making you stop anytime soon. 

“darling, not so rough. . .” he gasps out, nails raking down the expensive wood of his office desk while you plow away at him from behind, his hole sopping wet but tight, as though you haven’t cum two times in him already. he can feel his knees knocking into the hard front of the desk with every brutal thrust, the weeping tip of his erection grazing the cool mahogany, the pleasure inside him making his lower belly burn with a flame he hasn’t felt in a long time. 

“why?” you grin, draping yourself over his half-clothed stature, his pants yanked down to his ankles as he’s bent over to take. you shuffle forward, making sure his ass is pressed snugly against your crotch before giving an experimental roll of your hips, always reaching deeper, for more. “worried that they’ll hear?” 

silco presses his lips together in a thin line, tilting his face away from yours, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he were sulking. you laughed. it was just too easy to piss him off sometimes. 

“i’m just playing around, baby. your office is soundproofed, no?” you straightened yourself, running a hand over the smooth, sensitive expanse of his back before returning to your firm grip on his bruised hips. he gave a shuddering sigh, trying to relax as you started to rock into him again with strong, steady thrusts. 

“it doesn’t matter,” he rasps, “we’re, hah, being too loud… sweetheart. s-sevika is right outside.” 

“don’t care,” you mutter. “i’m pent up. ‘least you can do is let me fuck you stupid. you’ll let me, right?” 

silco makes a noise at the back of his throat, half from displeasure, the other half from the sharp curl of arousal in his lower abdomen, making his cock twitch and leak. fuck if it didn’t turn him on when you talked to him like this. he settles for burying his face into his arms, preparing himself for whatever you were going to put him through. 

“be gentle,” he whispers, letting out a shuddering sigh. “i’m not so young anymore.” 

you could feel a grin pulling at the corners of your lips. yeah. sure, you were going to be gentle with him. with him looking like that. 

“hngh, r-right there…” silco mewls out, knees buckling repeatedly as he tries not to think about how loud he’s being. he supposes he could gag himself with something, your fingers, maybe, get them warm and wet for you while you use his face as leverage to fuck him harder, but he knows how much his noises spur you on, and right now he really doesn’t want to piss you off. not when you’re indulging him so well. “that’s it… you’re so good… darling.” 

“not so shy anymore?” you hummed, licking a hot stripe up his neck, his gasp twisting into a whine. “think we can make you louder?” 

“sweetheart,” he sighs as he feels your hand wrap around his throat, and he tilts his head back to let you grip it properly. “you already know what i want.” 

“well, i don’t think so.” you smile, leaning down to press your cheek against his, working away from behind with short, firm thrusts that steal his breath away. “remind me. did we use the magic word yet?” 

but just as he’s about to answer with snark, there’s the rap of fists against his office door, and silco feels his heart plummet. not now, when things were about to get good—this was the worst timing possible. “everything alright, boss?” 

“yes,” silco pants, “fuck… yes.” 

you can feel his nails dig into the back of your thigh, warning you not to pull out. you’re thick and heavy, resting against his stomach, and silco feels so fucking good and full. you can’t stop now. not until he’s had his fill. he can vaguely feel your warm seed trailing its way down his perineum in a slow trickle, and fuck, he wants more. wants to feel stuffed even without you inside him, drowsy and content. 

he blinks, brows furrowing as he catches himself fantasizing about you yet again. should he even be having thoughts like these in his forties? was this healthy? sex with you was life-changingly—and now apparently hormone-alteringly good. 

“sir?” sevika’s growl interrupts his train of thought. and yeah, not to mention—his second-in-command is right outside his office, while all he can think about is cock. shit. your big, leaky cock, buried to the hilt inside his hole. he wonders if it’ll be gaping once you’re done with him. and oh. cum. loads of your cum, filling up every inch of space inside him. making it hard to breathe. making him swel— “is someone in there with you?” 

“yes,” silco wheezes dumbly as you roll your hips against him with meaning, forcing him to take you deeper. he trembles, shifting back slightly to fuck himself on your cock, forcing a sharp inhale from you. “we are busy. you’re, oh… dismissed, sevika.” 

the silence is loud, save for the almost-silent squelches of your cock maneuvering inside him with all the cum stored in his belly. 

you can feel his heart pounding from the way your chest is pressed against his bare back. or maybe it’s your own. his walls squeeze around you, sinfully tight, pulling a muffled moan from where you have your teeth sunken into his shoulder. fuck. he’s—silco’s actually into this. you’d have never guessed he would be such a freak, for lack of a better word, but with how things were going . . . you didn’t mind it. not one bit. it drove you crazy with want, if anything. 

“... if you say so, boss.” the sound of retreating footsteps fills you with both relief and disappointment, but before you could even process what that means, you can feel silco gazing at you through his lashes, low and scrutinizing and something needy. 

“did i say you could stop?” silco grunts. “fuck me.” 

you let out a shaky sigh, hips already bucking back into the warm mould of your cock—and the next sound that drives past his lips is a loud and unabashed sob of your name. 

you think you might have unlocked something new in your lover.

VIKTOR

“it won’t fit,” viktor slurs, moans tumbling out of his mouth as he gives a shaky roll of his hips. he’s not quite there yet, with only the tip sucked in, but he’s making good progress. “i’m terribly s-sorry, dear. your… appendage. it’s too big.” 

his eyes flutter shut at the feeling of your hands forming a ring around his waist, strong and firm, a warm assurance that there was a possibility… although slight, that he’d make it. 

“it’ll fit,” you murmur, kissing the sensitive spot at the back of his ear, the one that makes him suck in a sharp breath and shudder. “you’re doing very good, love. just… a little more, yeah?” 

viktor looks down. it’s nowhere near a little more. you’re barely halfway in and he’s already thinking about quitting—has been, since the stupidly huge head of your cock breached his rim, making him feel a stretch that no amount of fingers or plastic toys could replicate. it was something extraordinary. overwhelmingly so. 

“please,” he mewls, forehead dropping to rest on your shoulder. “t-touch me? i think i’ll probably, hah, ease up a little if you would… oh, yes. thank you, dear. thank you.” 

it’s… in simple words, too much. you’re usually very considerate, taking your time with him with your fingers, rubbing on his tender walls until he loosens enough for you to slip another one in. the night would then end with you fucking his thighs, sticky and slick with his own cum. it’s good. it’s enough. that was until he started having thoughts of what it would feel like if you were inside him. 

but viktor would’ve never imagined it would be like this. the difference in size was just… comical. you were so deep inside him already, the impossible girth forming an obscene bulge over his abdomen, making him whine with the fullness. if this is already what it feels like to have you inside, then just what would it feel like to have you spill inside him?

he can’t lie—he’s spent nights waiting for you to fall asleep first so that he could scoop up some of the cum you had missed on the sheets, quietly fingering himself with the cold slickness. it didn’t feel right, even if it was yours. it just wasn’t the same. he wanted, no, needed to feel it for himself. 

it doesn’t help, the way you’re stroking him, ever so gentle with him. your huge palm covers his entire length without having to move much, huge thumb rubbing at his leaking tip, and viktor’s never been so hard before in his whole life. he’s so close already, hole fluttering around you uncontrollably, and it’s almost cute how it looks like it’s going to swallow you up. maybe it is. 

maybe it’ll fit. 

“last few inches,” you pant, fingers trembling slightly where you’re struggling not to press bruises into the cup of his hips. “can i-? please, vik. it’s so good. you’re so good. i just need a little more. please, baby.” 

“yes,” viktor blurts out, before he realises just what he agreed to—but within the next second he can feel something abnormally large pushing its way past his tight walls, faster and rougher than before, even as he tries to clench and hold still—it’s mean and a little too much, but then the back of his thighs meets hot skin and he nearly blacks out with the stretch of it all. 

“ngh,” viktor keens, trembling with exhaustion as he tries to settle into your lap comfortably with such a large intrusion within him. “soo full…” 

you sigh in pleasure, hands going back to his hips where they belong, pushing him down until you’re satisfied that he’s properly taken everything you’ve given him. it’s not a demand, viktor thinks, more like a comfort. telling him that you’ve always known he would’ve been able to take you in the first place. that this is where he belongs, filled to the brim with you and you only. 

he lets out a shuddering moan when you start to slowly bounce him on your lap, lifting him up with ease a good inch or two, before rolling your hips to meet his, pushing yourself deeper. “shit, vik…” you groan, and he cries out with every brush against his prostate, the sheer size of you making it impossible to miss it. “you’re so tight, baby… so perfect. i’m right here with you, okay? easy now, you’re doing so good.” 

you’re so good to him as always, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, but it’s different this time, and fuuck. viktor thinks he’s dying with how good it feels. he tries to steer his hips, to actually ride you instead of having you manhandling him up and down your cock, but there’s hardly any friction left now that he’s properly stretched, and any attempt results in him collapsing back to his knees, the pleasure making him weak. 

he settles for hanging onto you, arms wrapping around your neck and choking out little whimpers as you rock upwards into his waiting hole again and again, toes curling and nails scratching red trails down your back with the all-consuming pleasure.

it’s driving him crazy, the fullness, the simple thought of you pumping your seed and sperm into him, of making love with you. it’s nothing like the way it was written in the textbooks he had spent nights researching—it’s beyond anything he would have ever imagined. 

“please,” viktor sobs out, feeling strangely empty every time you pull out halfway, as ironic as it was—as though there was a chance you would leave him fully. the thought of it hurt. if only you could fit inside him forever. if only. “stay…” he cries, “cum inside. m-make me yours.” 

you lean forward, pressing your lips against his in a hurried kiss, at the same time grinding so deep viktor thinks, for a split of a second, that that might be you he’s feeling in his stomach. the broken wail he gives is loud and muffled, and you lap up the drool on the side of his face, watching as your lover’s eyes flutter shut at the feeling of being filled, properly this time, to the brink of spilling.

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