Mdni

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!

prettying him up in the shower so he smells like warm vanilla and honey, then wrapping him in a fluffy towel and combing mousse through his long hair so when i dry it, it ends up so curly and soft. i massage lotion into his hands to keep them soft, and file down his nails.

by the end of it, he looks so good that i can’t help but pin him down on the bed and undo all my work by leaving him a sweaty, exhausted, fucked-out mess.

Grab his slutty ass so hard his legs spread.

PSA: never discuss private affairs in your DMs, especially contraception and abortion. Social media moguls will absolutely sell you out to the government. There are already cases of people being charged based on evidence in their DMs.

Melvik agenda >:}}

MelJayVik

thinking about these three in bed, Jayce not being able to keep his hands to himself and Mel deciding to do something about it while Viktor occupies Jayces mouth, his throat being probed while his insides are rearranged by Mels gold plated HexStrap and trust they tease Jayce practically the entire night, teetering him right on the edge before pulling away getting him so worked up he's all teary eyed and begging, while Viktor just scoffs caressing Jayces face while saying "This is what you wanted, no?".

When they do finally let Jayce cum he's sniffling and crying, babbling out a thank you to Mel who'd finally let him cum before he blue balled, gently rubbing his tip as she asked "Gonna be a good boy now?", Jayce would nod and breathlessly parrot her "gonna be good...." his throat raw from all his sobbing. :(

NEED

Rocks at your window

- Donnie Darko ౨ৎ

Summary: Donnie sneaks through your window. You’re basically in a situationship.

Warnings: christian themes, cheating, Donnie is a creep, dom!Donnie, oral (f receiving), fingering, corruption/innocence.

Word count: 1050 ish

Notes: Maybe this is a bit rushed but it is what it is. Prob typos cause I’m lazy.

You were just about to fall asleep as the sound of rocks smattering against your window woke you up and had your eyes wide open. You reluctantly got up and gave Donnie a tired, half smile.

He climbed up the tree next to your window, and you let him in. Of course you did. Even though your parents hated him, even though he never showed up for church and even though your high school football boyfriend wanted him dead. This was your rebellion against it all.

He landed on your floor, his black converse stark against the pink rug. This wasn’t his first time here, yet his eyes still scanned your room as if it was. Maybe he liked to remind himself who he was corrupting. His eyes grazed the cross above your bed, the locked diary on your bedside table (which he snooped through whenever you went to the bathroom) and your pristine, white, unstained sheets. A testament to how unskilled your boyfriend was.

Donnie sat down on your bed. This was part of the routine. You plopped down next to him. Exchanged small talk. How are you? You looked nice at school today. Does your mom know you pin your skirt like that? This always ended in you blushing and him egging you on. “I read a bit of your diary last time I was here” Donnie spoke and your eyes instantly widened. “You really think about me when he fucks you?”

You felt like slipping through the mattress. You hated that word. “I didn’t think anyone would read it” you mumbled, as if it would save you. Donnie smiled at you, his ego multiplying by thousands. “He doesn’t do it like me?” Now it was a straight home-run, he had successfully caught you in his web. You shook your head. Getting trapped in recent memories of your boyfriend pushing your head down and flipping you over, quietly getting himself off as your mind slipped elsewhere.

Donnie’s hands crawled up your thighs beneath the night gown. “He doesn’t do this?” A light finger circled your clit through your panties. Your eyes shut close in an attempt to keep it together. “No” you managed to get out through your gritted teeth. “Not a very good boyfriend then.”

Donnie laid you down against your pillows, he always wanted you face up. You thought it was romantic, in reality he did it so he could watch you struggle to keep your mouth shut.

He pulled your underwear to the side and ran a finger through your wetness. “How long has my dirty girl gone without it?” His thumb spread the slick over your clit. “Two da-“ You began but quickly got interrupted. “No, not since you had sex, Since you came” Donnie clarified. Your eyes didn’t know where to look. You looked up, but the cross stared back down at you. So you settled on looking at Donnie, even though it felt like too much. “Two weeks.” Donnie gave you a pout, equally cruel as it was sweet. “Sweet girl can’t do it without me?” He said as one of his fingers entered you. He had the same look as the one you give the hunted rabbits on national geographic.

You didn’t know how to respond his question. Not because you didn’t have an answer, but because you weren’t sure if you could get the words out. So, instead, you whined and moved your hips down against his finger. You didn’t want him to go slow, though, Donnie might be tough to convince tonight. See, he had just jerked off to a picture of you before he came over. The one from the year book, where you’re sitting with your girlfriends on the grass in the sun. With a flower tucked behind your ear and a broad smile. To say he was spent was an understatement.

He entered another finger, and you had to bite your knuckle. If your parents found out, they’d most likely kill both of you. Donnie kept the torturous pace. His favorite part was when you couldn’t take it anymore and had to confess what you needed from him. He wasn’t about to give up seeing this sweet girl spout profanity tonight.

You gave Donnie a sigh. “Not enough?” he shot back. Your shaking head was met with a “dirty girl”, but no chance in action. You had played this game before and knew your way out was to speak. It made your chest clench when you did, but your thighs did the same; resulting in your head spinning with prayers, unclear to whom. “Want your mouth.” It was barely a whisper. Your cheeks flushed with shame and arousal.

Donnie dragged your underwear down, discarding them on your floor. He folded up your gown and laid down on his stomach, taking a second to appreciate the view.

The first moves of his tongue were frustrating. It circled around your folds and around your clit, never actually settling on it. His hot breath fanned against your wetness. Just as anger almost began to bubble inside you, he licked a stripe up from your hole to your clit. And stayed there, working small circles on it.

Even though Donnie was sure there was nothing left in him, he couldn’t help but slightly rut against your sheets. He had missed you so terribly recently. Finally, he was tasting you again, which was a hundred times better and more intense than burying his face in your stolen panties. The thought of your oblivion to this had him enveloping his lips around you.

You winced at the upped stimulation, his tongue flicked against you while the suction had you pulsating. Your hands grabbed onto his hair as you tried your best not to push him harder against you. His name echoed in your head as the pressure built, your thighs hugging the sides of his face.

You came with a held back, strained moan. Donnie’s chin was glistening as he came up smiling at you. After a kiss, he was out again, running across the street to his house.

Before falling asleep, you picked up your diary and wrote his name over and over again.

The tattoos were the cherry on TOPP😭

watching Rise of the Gaurdians made me realize my younger self had a type all along when I had a crush on this guy

the naughty and nice tattoos 😍 😋 😏 😜

i need a older man to let me sit on his lap and give him sweet kisses on his cheek.

Sub Blue just... Yea🤭

Private Dances 6

Club!Blue Jones x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • ko-fi • request info • series masterlist • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Day 19: Masturbation

A/N: A huge thank you to the epic @lonelyisamyw-0love for tipping my ko-fi, this series is especially for them💚

Warnings: Masturbation, spanking (blue receiving), asshole spanking, overuse of italics, there's some power dynamics in here because reader is a dancer (but like Blue is so lovesick), not beta read, swearing, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

There are 5 main ‘stars’ in the club: Peach, Trixie, Songbird, Sweetie Pie, and Crystal. Crystal is usually the favourite but is currently in Blue’s bad books for reasons unknown to the reader. Reader is a backup dancer that Blue has nicknamed Lion.

Word Count: 1329

Blue whines. 

His eyes are closed, bottom lip red from his constant biting. His hands are tied hastily above his head with his own belt, looped around the side leg of the wooden table that is next to the sofa. Despite the tightness of the bonds, they are easy for him to slip out of if he really tried. 

“Lion,” he swallows, breathing heavily. “Please.”

You grin down at him. His naked under you, his cock painfully hard and leaking onto his stomach. 

You’re just as bare as he is, your thighs straddling his hips, your hand between your legs.

He groans again as you rock slowly, spreading your slick teasingly along the base of his cock while you rub your clit in slow circles. 

“This is not the punishment I was expecting.” He huffs, tears of frustration in the corners of his eyes.

Your smile widens. 

“This is unfair.” He pouts, but stays perfectly still and keeps his hands in the belt.

“Punishment isn’t meant to be fair.” You tease, kneeling up ever so slightly so your pussy no longer touches him.

“No, no,” he whimpers, “don’t, don’t take that away too!” 

You chuckle and hold onto the back of the sofa with one hand as your thighs start to shake. 

Pleasure twists and pools in your belly, spiking along your nerves. You moan loudly, unable to hold yourself back anymore. 

Blue’s eyes shine, he bites at his lip again as he groans. “Yes, Lion, yes. Fuck, make yourself come.” 

You arch as your orgasm hits you, flooding your veins with bliss as you spasm and work yourself through it. 

Part of you is surprised when Blue doesn’t try anything while you're momentarily distracted, no cheeky moves to get his own way. He just watches you intently as you come down and settle back against him. 

He’s staring up at you with love sick eyes when you look at him. 

“That was wonderful, Lion.” He breathes and swallows thickly, his cock twitches, but he stays still. “Do I deserve a treat?” He asks with the softest voice.

You pause for a moment as you regard him and then stick your slick coated fingers into his mouth. 

He groans, darting his tongue out eagerly and leaning up as far as he can to get them past his lips quicker. 

He wriggles ever so slightly, humming and happy as he sucks and moans, eyes closed. 

With your free hand, you lightly trace some of the scars that litter his torso; the burn marks near his collar bone, the slashes at his ribs. 

He shivers, stilling as he opens his eyes and you slowly take your fingers out of his mouth. 

“How did you get these?” You ask quietly. 

He smiles, but there’s no joy there. “A long time ago.” 

The scars on his ribs are thick, deep, the longest trails from just under his armpit to curve around his body and end near his navel. 

Gently you lean down to kiss it and he shivers and sighs, seemingly content with your touch. 

He’s still got that love sick expression when you sit back up. “I’ll tell you about it one day, Lion.” 

“You don’t have to.”

That makes him smile for real this time, it’s a small movement, but possibly the most genuine you’ve ever seen. 

“What if I want to?” He asks softly. 

“Then I’ll listen.” 

He nods, wriggling a little and bucking up, trying to get you to press closer. 

“Oh, no, no, no,” you chuckle and lightly flick his left nipple. 

He squirms, gasping and giggling. “What?” 

“Don’t ‘what’ me.” 

He grins broadly. “Come and sit on my cock.” 

You shake your head. “No.” 

His expression falls as he sulks. 

“I’m never fucking you again.” You cross your arms over your chest.

“What?” 

It takes all your composure not to laugh at the outrage in his voice. “That’s your punishment.” You shrug.

“Oh, no, no, no, Lion,” he shakes his head. “That’s simply too much. I would die.” He throws his head back dramatically and you giggle. You never did expect him to be quite as playful as he is. 

From this angle, the splashes of blood up his neck are all the more clear.

“There must be another solution.” He continues, “Some agreement we can come to.” 

You pause, pretending to stare off to the side to think. “Hmm, what do you suggest? What are you going to offer as a fair punishment for yourself?”

He beams at you, his eyes dark. “Let me lay on your lap and you can spank me until you think I’ve learned my lesson.” 

“What if I never think you have?” You tease and lean close.

He growls softly, “You’ll just have to keep going forever then.” 

You kiss his nose, pulling back when he tries to get his lips on yours. 

You know he’s done this sort of thing before, you’ve heard about it plenty. How he would tie up dancers, or just get them to sit on his lap and hit them with his hand across their backside. They’d all come back and be unable to sit down comfortably for a few days. Sweetie Pie had even said that once, he had come while spanking her, reaching orgasm just from her cries. 

You’d never heard of anyone spanking him though. 

“Alright.” 

He slips his hands free the second you agree, grinning and moving as you stand and sit back down on the sofa.

You gesture to your lap, “well?” 

Blue practically jumps into your lap, squirming and wriggling so he can rub his cock all over your legs before he settles.

You don’t even give him a second to get comfortable before you smack him hard across both cheeks with the palm of your hand. 

He yelps instantly, rocking forward from surprise. 

“That’s for moving.” You say, your tone low and dangerous and Blue shivers. 

“I’ll count them for you.” He mutters, his own voice thick. 

“What?” 

“How many hits, I’ll count them.” He swallows, staring straight ahead and waiting patiently. 

You smack him three more times in quick succession.

“One, two, three, ugh, four!” He groans, wiggles and lifts his ass in the air ever so slightly, quietly begging for more. 

“Oh, you like this?” You hit him again, a touch harder.

“Five!”

“You like this a lot.” You tut, “Not much punishment is it?” 

He gasps and shakes his head rapidly. 

“What,” smack, “if,” smack, “I,” smack, “get all your goons in here? Hmm?” Smack.

“Ugh, six, seven, fuck, eight, ninneee!”

Smack. “Get them to watch you,” smack, “like this?” Smack.

“Ten, eleven, ohh god, fuck, please!” He wriggles again, the air catching in his throat. “Yes, I’d let you, if that’s what you wanted, I’d do it. I’d let them all see you take me, Lion,” his voice raises in pitch dramatically at the end as you rain down a series of sharp blows that have him throwing back his head and moaning wildly. 

“Please, please, please,” he mutters, breathing hard. You can feel his cock pulse, trapped tightly between his stomach and your legs.

You squeeze one cheek until he groans, marvelling in the redness of his skin. Your palm tingles a little from how hard you’ve hit him. Slowly you spread his plump ass wide, listening to his little pleas and moans for any sound of true distress. When you find none you smack him across the asshole, hard, but not as hard as your previous strikes. 

He cries out loudly, his body jerking—the sharp sound dissolving from surprise into a long drawn out pleasure. 

Wetness coats your tights as he comes, hot and messily. Shivering and clawing at the cushions until he goes limp, face flat against the sofa. 

You stroke his back softly, about to speak. 

“Lion,” he groans, drawing out the word, and moving his head ever so slightly so that he can glance up at you. “That was exquisite.” 

Thank you for reading!

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