Viktor Arcane X Reader - Blog Posts

10/10!!! OMG I WILL BE COMING BACK TO READ THIS🤭✋🏼😭

At the Emperor’s Word -Viktor x Reader x Jayce

Summary: Sneaking around the academy after hours sounds like a good idea right up until you get caught; then, it becomes a great idea.

Pairing: Dom!Viktor x Sub!Reader x Switch! Jayce

Word Count: 6K

Warning: Explicit (PwP)

Tags: Threesome, Kissing, Handjob, Voyeurism, Obedience Kink, Praise Kink, Slight Cuckolding, Edging, Degradation, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Masturbation, Voice Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Lap Sex, Light Punishment Kink, Big Dick Viktor, Pet Names, Begging, Slight Choking, Vaginal Sex, Teasing, Rough Sex

Notes: A little fashionably late, but here is my absolutely filthy piece in celebration of Viktor’s birthday 🎉!! Viktor, my dearest, thank you for being my beloved husband and the devoted father of our many children. Glorious ovulation everyone ✌️💕.

You try to stifle a chuckle.

“Jayce, we can't-”

He's warm, so warm. You always feel yourself melt under his touch.

“C'mon, just a minute…” he insists.

You can't help but giggle breathlessly as he brings your hand into his pants, a large hand wrapping your fingers around his already half-hard cock. His body presses yours against the workbench, the firm wood digging into your lower back. His other hand slides against the fabric of your skirt, cushioning the strain, and not so subtly placing his palm over your ass.

He nuzzles his face against the top of your head, letting out a pleased groan when your fist starts moving. You suppress another laugh, trying your best to remain quiet, but you're positively enamoured of those sounds he makes when you touch him. Without even seeing his face, you know the content smile hasn't left his lips; he's so easy to please.

He's twitching under your grip, gripping your cheeks to the rhythm of the strokes. You quicken the pace, and he lets out a low moan that echoes through the empty lab.

This wing of the academy is always empty at this time of night, but there's something exciting about having to stay quiet. You can feel how close he's getting, the slight rutting of his hips a now familiar sign. His breath hitches, he's almost there, just a little more-

“I hope I am not interrupting anything.”

You yelp in surprise, pulling out your hand from Jayce's pants so fast your arm hits the wooden desk behind you. Jayce lets out a confused, frustrated shout at the sudden loss of friction as you wince in pain.

There, at the entrance of the lab, stands a looming figure, holding one of the large doors partially open. The light from the corridor obscures his face from the darkness of the lab; but there is no mistaking who this silhouette belongs to.

Viktor makes a single step forward, the metallic sound of his crutch against the tiled floor making you wince, as he lets the door close behind him. The room falls into obscurity again, the pale glow of the moon and the distant city lights only faintly shining through the windows.

“Ah, Viktor!” Jayce almost bellows in an overly cheery tone, walking backwards to put some distance between the two of you. “I- We were waiting for you! Got a bunch of interesting notes about today's experiments to show you !”

Viktor's face is blank, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in cold annoyance. He is neither amused nor does he seem the believe Jayce's jovial act. He nods curtly at the other man's pants, which are obviously, painfully unbuttoned. Jayce cringes as he quickly stumbles to reattach them, sliding the buttons in the wrong slits. You're frozen in place, eyes wide in fear, incapable of looking away from Viktor's frigid expression. But his focus is not on you; it's on Jayce.

“So,” he starts loudly, not bothering with whispers, “You barely spend any time working in the lab anymore. You have not even checked any of the upgrades I have suggested for the hexgates in the last month.” His voice is apathetic and dry, and his eyes narrow when he says the next words:

“And this is what you've been up to?”

Jayce opens his mouth like he's ready to argue, but the glare from his work partner seems to change his mind. He lowers his head silently, like a puppy being scolded. Viktor's golden pupils slide to you, and you now understand exactly why Jayce prefers looking at the floor.

“From Jayce I could expect,” Viktor remarks, the weight of his stare making you shrink, “but from you? I'll admit I'm disappointed.”

You bow your head in embarrassment. Your cheeks are burning, and you know there's no way to pretend like this is only a misunderstanding. You wish you could vanish on the spot.

Jayce, always the hero, comes to your defence quickly: “Viktor, it wasn't her idea-”

“I'm so sorry sir,” you interrupt him, stepping forward. You know Viktor well enough to recognize he's not a fan of poor excuses or avoiding accountability. “I swear this internship means the world to me. I know how many other students dream of working on hextech. It won't ever happen again.”

He seems pleased by your answer, although his expression stays perfectly stoic.

“That's good to hear,” he hums, walking closer to the both of you. He stops a few feet away, a ray of moonlight passing through a coloured beaker catching in his auburn hair. It illuminates him in an eerie, reddish glow, like he's not quite human, almost a phantom. “Well then, do not let me stop the both of you. Keep going, as you were.”

You have to assume he's joking, even if his tone sounds anything but, and you let out a confused, nervous giggle. But he isn't laughing, and neither is Jayce.

“Viktor…” there's uncertainty in the taller man's voice. It's not fear, or alarm, but he's apprehensive about something.

Viktor lets out a small sigh of lassitude, discontent evident. He looks at you again, with these amber eyes that make you feel like the world around you vanishes. Like there's nothing but him, and the words about to leave his lips.

“It would appear my partner is suddenly hard of hearing. Were my instructions unclear to you as well?”

You swallow. Your lips feel dry. Jayce is still unmoving next to you, still as a board, watching your interaction with his lab partner with an uneasy look.

“…No sir,” you mutter, just loudly enough for both men to hear. Viktor gives you the shadow of a smile.

“C'mon Viktor, you've humiliated her enough,” Jayce argues softly, raising his hand in a gesture of peace. But the other man has clearly decided Jayce hasn't gained his favour for the night, barely sparing him an icy glare.

“I do not believe I was talking to you,” he states matter-of-factly. The man of progress makes a strangled sound of protest, clearly insulted, but Viktor seems to have all but forgotten about him, now. It's back to only you and him, and the teasing smile dancing on his lips.

“He's always like this. Begging for attention,” Viktor tells you in a tone of confidence, like the topic of the conversation isn't standing less than a foot away from you with a baffled look on his face. “One has to wonder if he is compensating for something, but I figure you are in a good position to tell, right?”

You can’t prevent the corners of your mouth from lifting at the underhanded jab; Viktor seems emboldened by your reaction, voice louder when he continues:

“I certainly hope he's been more of a gentleman to you than this. Or does he only bend you over in our lab like an animal?”

The comment is enough to pull Jayce out of his stupor, and he raises his arms in protest.

“Hey, I'm not that-” he starts heatedly.

“Jayce.”

It's just his name; nothing else. You've said it to him hundreds of times. But there's something different in the way Viktor says it, the slow pronunciation of the syllables, the hardness of the accent, the deepness of the voice. Whatever it is, Jayce is compelled by it just as much as an order. He stops right in his tracks, his arms falling uselessly back to his side, like a dog listening to a command.

Viktor hums in approval, but his stare is no less punishing.

“I was not talking to you. When it is your turn to speak, you will know.”

Jayce's mouth is slightly agape, his eyes wide, an expression you can't quite read on his face; but he obeys. He stands there like a puppet, unmoving, drinking Viktor's words. You can't help but notice the still present strain in his badly buttoned pants.

The thinner man's gaze softens once more as it falls on you. He makes another step forward; close enough that you could reach him with your hand if you tried. He looks at you encouragingly: “Answer the question, sweet thing.”

The room feels like it's shrunk to barely a tenth of its size. Your breath has become shallow without you noticing. But isn't quite from fear anymore.

“T-twice in the lab before,” you stutter, the embarrassment of recounting your adventures to your direct supervisor burning your cheeks. The arousal in the air is undeniable now, and he's visibly aware of it. “And in the library. Once in my bedroom.”

Viktor hums pensively, studying your answer. It almost feels like you're passing some kind of final exam; the world's most sexually charged exam, undoubtedly.

“So he is aware of the basic notion of privacy behind closed doors, then,” Viktor concludes, the thin smirk now fully on display. “Who would have thought.”

He doesn't look away from your eyes when he finally speaks to the other man again.

“Jayce. How close are you?”

You glance at the taller engineer; he's started palming himself through his pants, his breathing irregular. His hair is dishevelled from your previous activities, and his cheeks are a bright crimson against his caramel skin. He's usually so dominating, on top of things, handling you like a chiffon doll up and down his dick with that cocky smile of his. You've never seen him like this; flustered, desperate, seeming so small despite all of his stature.

“Pretty close,” Jayce almost moans out, voice raspy for exertion. He's biting his own bottom lip so tightly it might start bleeding. “Just a little more.”

Viktor finally gives him a slight smile, though it's dripping with self-satisfaction. He's close enough to you that you can smell him now, that you could brush away the wayward strands of hair on his forehead. His face has been marked by the passage of time and countless hours of work, heavy bags under his eyes, cheeks almost gaudy. And yet, there is no sign of him ever losing control of this moment. Nothing could change the hypnotic power of his eyes, the controlling tone of his voice, or the subjugating effect of his slightly crooked smile.

“I suppose we should oblige,” he suggests lightly, his free hand brushing your cheek. His fingers are thin and lithe, cold against your skin, and you lean into the touch. He gives you a moment to pull away, if you want to; but you don't.

The kiss is slow at first, gentle, just the way little girls dream their prince charming might one day give them. He lets you decide when to pick up the speed, and you initiate after a few seconds by slipping your tongue in his mouth. It's messier, now, teeth clashing every now and then, saliva pooling where your lips meet. He tastes nothing like Jayce, his flavour of dark coffee and fresh mint; Viktor is sweet, like milk and honey, like a slice of lemon cake in the summer heat.

When he pulls away for air, you feel like time has started to move once again, as if you've just emerged from a dream. He's smirking confidently, still, but not entirely unfazed; his pale cheeks have turned pink, his breathing is slightly laboured, and there are traces of smudged saliva on the corners of his mouth.

A foreign whine makes you both turn towards Jayce, who is clearly on the edge of orgasm. He's abandoned any pretence of innocence, his cock fully pulled out of his pants as he rubs it furiously, eyes locked on the two of you.

“Stop,” Viktor only says.

Jayce groans in frantic frustration, slowing his rhythm but incapable of removing his hand. He's harder than you've ever seen him, his tip almost a painful red.

“No, no, c'mon V, don't do this. Please keep going,” he begs, looking at you with pitiful eyes, pleading silently. You want to touch him, to let him touch himself. But you know it's not your decision; it's Viktor's. And he's made his ruling, so you're not about to get on your research director's bad side again.

The head engineer offers a proud smile at your lack of answer to Jayce, the kind he usually reserves for reports submitted in advance or ingenious schematics. You recognize him more like this, strict, but never unappreciative of your efforts. He never forgets to slip a word of encouragement when you're stuck, never hesitates to reread your notes with you when the math isn't quite adding up. The cold anger seems to have fully passed, and now only the teasing, taunting satisfaction remains.

“I believe you may have forgotten that as per her contract, she is my assistant. Meaning she is under my direct command.”

He's looking at Jayce now, whose hand is still wrapped around his length, but unmoving. His cock is twitching in his grasp, desperate as the rest of him. His whole body shifts to the rhythm of his respiration, large shoulders slumped in defeat. Viktor doesn't turn to you when he asks you the following question, choosing instead to stare deeply into Jayce's citrine eyes.

“Is that not correct?”

You don't hesitate with your answer this time.

“Yes sir.”

His focus is still on the other man, but he strokes your cheek again with his left hand. He rests his weight comfortably on his crutch, like he doesn't have a single worry in the world in this moment.

“Good girl.”

You feel yourself tighten at that. That voice could tell you to find a way to harness the power of the goddamn stars before figuring out the hexcore, and you would comply.

“Jayce, could you bring the chair over here? The larger one.”

Viktor points with his chin towards a wooden chair with a flat backing, in a corner of the lab. Jayce looks back and forth between the chair and his partner, like he's unsure if he's joking or testing him. When no additional directions come from Viktor, he sighs in discomfort, clearly disgruntled, unceremoniously shoving himself back in his pants to go fetch the chair. The thinner man hums in appreciation when he brings it back and places it next to him.

“Thank you, Jayce.”

He sits, using his crutch for balance as he shifts slightly to find a comfortable position. His hand leaves the burgundy handgrip, instead settling on the metallic upper section. He looks like the king of a forgotten kingdom, resting on his wooden throne, sceptre in hand. You and Jayce, his obedient consorts, can't do anything but await his next command.

It comes in the form of a simple motion of his hand, beckoning you closer. You only stop when your legs bump against his, standing above him. His fingers caress the fabric of your skirt studyingly, like he's committing the feel to memory. They eventually catch on the waistband, tugging it questioningly. His golden eyes look up at you, the colour of the sunrise etched in his pupils. You nod earnestly in approval, and he lowers the skirt down until it reaches your knees, letting it fall to the floor. You're suddenly very thankful you dressed up this morning knowing you would see Jayce.

The design is simple, a line of flowery lace hugging your hips, and curving to the shape of your ass. It's the kind of thing Jayce loves; he'll even make you keep your panties on sometimes as he fucks you, just pushing the bottom of the fabric to the side to fit himself inside you. It's the lace he can’t resist, you think, the way it barely covers anything and rests against your skin like a present for him to unwrap.

It doesn’t seem to have the same effect on Viktor, but you can tell he’s still appreciative, cold hand sneaking under the lace to squeeze a cheek firmly.

“This is fucking torture,” Jayce groans in complaint, standing still just barely a few feet away. He's obviously aware he's not supposed to interfere with the two of you, or to touch himself for relief, but the glistening sweat on his forehead and down the prominent vein on his neck indicates how difficult this is for him.

“And you should know better than to have sex next to a table covered in explosive materials and one-of-a-kind prototypes,” Viktor retorts, sparing him a slightly displeased glance. “What if you had broken something irreplaceable?”

Jayce seems genuinely embarrassed by that; he may not show it as often these days with how busy he is, but you know he still cares about the academy's research and the state of hextech.

“I'm sorry Viktor. I wasn't thinking…”

“I am aware you were not thinking. And that is exactly the issue. You forget how much of our profession relies on thinking, not talking.”

It's crystal clear that's going to be the end of the conversation, for now. Viktor's fingers slide to your hip, following the shape of the panties until your inner thigh. A small tap with a single digit tells him everything he needs to know.

“Look at this,” he smiles, taunting but affectionate, “Already so wet just from a kiss. Or was it the sound of my voice that did it, I wonder.”

Both, it's both, and every single thing that has happened in this lab since he entered it. You tremble when his finger moves slowly against the damp fabric, not quite oversensitive, but a little on edge.

“I, um-” Jayce hesitantly speaks up from the side. “I fingered her a bit earlier. I… think she should be alright?”

This time, Viktor doesn't reprimand him for talking; he seems surprisingly pleased, eyes boring into yours for confirmation.

“Is that so?” he exhales softly.

You nod breathlessly. Why is it always so difficult to talk when he's studying you like this?

The teasing finger slips under the fabric, gently making its way into you. You let out an involuntary sound of eagerness as he verifies if you've been loosened up, analyzing you with the precision of a machine. He removes the digit with a crooked grin when he judges you've passed, and you whine at the loss; it was barely anything in the first place, but it soothed the feeling of total emptiness in your core.

“Color me impressed,” Viktor declares, half genuine, half mocking. “I do not think I have ever seen Jayce do his work in advance.”

Said man groans in defeated complaint:

“You're turning her against me.”

Viktor lets out a wry snort:

“You do that well enough on your own. You touched her without even making her cum?”

He pats your pussy comfortingly, and you almost sing to the feeling. Your panties get lowered swiftly, and you discard them with little decorum. Viktor's assertive expression has softened enough that you feel emboldened enough to try to join in the banter:

“Jayce thinks foreplay is watching him get undressed. He's not exactly an expert.”

Viktor laughs at that, a charming and genuine sound, and you feel yourself glow with pride. The topic of mockery doesn't seem as pleased, his cheeks red, his lips thin:

“See? Told you. You've already worked your fucking magic on her.”

Viktor starts unbuttoning his pants, the teasing smile still etched on his angular features. His fingers work nimbly, swiftly, with the precision only the best engineer in Runeterra could muster in such circumstances.

“It is not magic, Jayce. Simply talent and practice.”

He does quick work of lowering his pants, just enough to expose his underwear. The confirmation that he is indeed not as unbothered as he still may seem is poking through the fabric. Judging by the defined outline and the sizeable tent, you can instantly confirm a hypothesis you've had since the start of your internship: the Assistant to the Dean of the Academy is packing.

He's not unaware of it either; his golden eyes follow the movement of your own, playfully examining your reaction. It's different from Jayce's endearing ego and constant need for praise; Viktor knows his worth, but he revels in the admiration, the stares filled with awe and devotion.

If Jayce needs to feel worthy, then Viktor needs to feel wanted.

He finally frees his cock from the restrive fabric, letting the member bob slightly. He's not even fully hard, and he's huge, the length imposing, the bulbous tip a pleasant shade of pink. The skin is as pale as the rest of him, blueish veins marking it like porcelain; only a few well-trimmed auburn curls at the base remind you he's not sculpted from actual marble.

Jayce lets out a low, tentatively playful whistle as the other man’s slender fingers wrap around the shaft.

“Flattery will not get you far, Jayce,” Viktor comments absentmindedly. “You and I both know this is nothing you have not seen before.”

He moves his hand in an open, loose fist, evidently without any real intent to finish himself off; not with the way he's made you stand right above him, not with how he's looking right at you. You swallow with difficulty, licking your lips for moisture. The energy between the two of you is tangible, electric, as he keeps working himself tantalizingly slow.

“Darling. Sweet thing. Do you want this?”

You nod vigorously, the words stuck in your throat again.

“Tell me, then. Please. Tell me how much you want this,” he requests, and it's hard to tell whether that's an order or a plea with the way his voice lowers, just barely louder than a whisper.

You feel like you're high, your mind a jumbled mess of adrenaline and lust. There are no sentences that could possibly express how he's got you under his spell. How many times have you imagined a scene like this, in only a year of being his assistant? The stolen glances, the passing touches, you had no reason to believe they were anything more than figments of your lustful imagination. The very idea that he could be the one doubting your interest in him is laughable, and yet his gaze is probing you for a response, his lips parted with bated breath.

“I want this. I want you,” you swear to him, staring back so deeply into the amber irises there could not be a single question left. “Please, sir.”

You bring a hand to the crook of his neck; the coolness of the skin under your palm, the sharpness of his collarbone against your fingertips, the beating of his heart below your thumb. He has to know this is real.

Viktor smiles slightly, the little mole above his lips shifting alongside his dimples.

“I would ask you to be weary of my right leg, then. It is not quite as strong as it used to be, although that is not saying much.”

You've never seen the emotion that crosses Viktor's face in that moment, gone in under a second. It's so subtle one might have missed it; bitterness, regret, defeat. The tragedy of a man brilliant enough to change the whole world, but who wouldn't live long enough to see it. If Janna truly watches over the lost children of Zaun, then she is turning a blind eye to the brightest of them all.

You could say something, try and comfort him, but you choose not to. There's nothing that can be said to change things; there’s only the present, and there are only actions.

You sink down on him slowly, the both of you moaning in unison. You can't help the array of whines escaping your pinched lips. The heat from where your bodies meet is overwhelming, the stretch delightful and filling. He's not fully inside you and you're already wondering how much more you can take. It's dizzying, the pain making you grit your teeth, but you persist, fingers clenching on the back of the chair. When you've fully bottomed out, you let out a shaky breath you hadn't realized you were holding. Viktor soothingly pats your back, and you hang on to him for dear life, wrapping both arms around his back.

“Are you alright?” he whispers softly, worry evident in his voice. You want to answer, but you're quite certain if you open your mouth you'll only get confused gibberish out, because fuck, he's filling you so much it's hard to even think. You shift your grip to his shoulder blades, trying to anchor yourself, absentmindedly noticing the cool feeling of metal under his uniform. You trace the intricate patterns with your fingers to ground yourself, recognizing the shapes of bolts and screws, as you feel your breathing slowly even out

“I’m ok,” you eventually manage to exhale. “I just- need a second“

Viktor makes an understanding hum, his hand caressing the valley of your back like you're doing with his, his strokes mellow. He moves his head slightly to look at Jayce behind you, throwing him an irritated glare.

“So much for your preparations,” he points out with irony.

Without needing to see him, you know exactly the kind of disgruntled face Jayce is making: “She only needs three to fit me, you're just stupid big.”

“I can move,” you interrupt them, the pain now only a vague tingle; all that remains is the yearning for him.

You place both hands on the back of the chair to balance your weight, being careful of Viktor's weaker leg. You bring yourself up slowly, tantalizingly, before letting yourself fall back on his length. There's no other way to describe the broken moan you release than dirty.

“Eh,” Viktor remarks slyly, groaning when you start moving again. “S-she does not seem to think it’s stupid.”

You fuck yourself on him with abandon, fast, rough, not caring of how debauched you may look. If anything, Jayce seems very appreciative if his moans and curses are any indication.

“Fuck, baby,” he pants somewhere behind you, too far to feel his warmth, but close enough to hear he's pumping himself to the same rhythm you're riding Viktor. “You're doing such a good job taking him, princess…”

He's truly begging when he calls the other man's name again, delirious from the unending edging:

“V, please, make her turn to my side, I have to see her face.”

Viktor's hooded eyes bare into yours, his raspy pants echoing through your head as you thrust up and down his length.

“Do you think he is truly sorry, now?” he asks, the ever-teasing glimmer in his pupils shining despite the clear physical effort from his body.

You can't even remember what Jayce has to be sorry for; you whimper a positive ‘huh-uh’. Viktor nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck for a moment, gently bitting the sweaty skin in a surprising hint of possessiveness, but he does finally agree to free Jayce of his torture.

“I will trust your good judgment. You can come here, Jayce.”

You yelp in surprise when two strong but familiar hands suddenly grab you at the waist and turn you around, almost pulling you off Viktor's cock and into a messy kiss. The slight tickle of Jayce's stubble is pleasantly itchy, his tongue desperately searching for more of your taste. You moan wantonly against his mouth when you feel Viktor twitch inside you, but the man under you doesn't seem fully pleased: a thinner but firm hand brings you back against his chest, and he throws Jayce an irritated glare.

“I give you an inch and you take a mile. Typical,” the older man accuses him with a bitter tone, his accent more pronounced, rigid. “You do not get to touch, and you are only allowed to cum on her.”

His lips come to your ear in the ghost of a kiss, velvety smooth:

“Would that be agreeable to you, sweet thing?”

You just know you want to keep going, really; so you do exactly that as a reply.

This position is harder for movement, since without the support of the chair’s back, you would have to rely on putting pressure on Viktor's knees. Thankfully, with Jayce’s proximity, you can use his muscled chest for balance. He certainly doesn't mind being used like this if the expression he’s wearing is any sign: his entire face is crimson, his eyes heavy, laboured breaths escaping his abused lips. He's still following your pace, pumping up and down every time your ass meets Viktor's hip bones. It has to be painful by now, with the way he's been rubbing himself raw for so long without release, but he's either too entranced to care or getting off the burning friction

“So obedient,” Viktor praises you, his free hand moving to your lower stomach, long fingers digging gently into your skin; you wonder if he’s trying to feel himself move inside you. “We might still be able to make a top student out of you. What do you think, Jayce?”

Much like yourself, Jayce seems beyond the capacity for words. He's looking at you like he wants to devour you, like he wants to take you off Viktor's lap and fuck you right on the floor. But you both know he wouldn't do that without Viktor's approval, at the risk of getting on the other man’s bad side again.

Viktor's cock hits a peculiarly sensitive spot inside you and you cry out from the sudden shock, loling out your tongue involuntarily. Jayc makes a strangled sound at the sight, and it visibly takes all his self-control to not shove himself into the warmth of your throat.

“For once, I cannot get you to talk when I actually want you to,” Viktor tsks in disapproval, but it's clear he's not frustrated; rather, he seems to enjoy the trance-like silence Jayce has been reduced to.

“F-fuck, I think this is the hottest thing I've ever seen,” the younger man sputters, delirious, his fist moving with a frenzied pace. “I can see your cock in and out of her every time she bounces like that. Her tits look so good…”

You recognize that slight pitch in his voice, the rumbling in his throat; he's close again.

“What else?” Viktor hums, not letting him have a moment of respite. You can hear ragged gasps next to your ear, parts of heaved curses indicating he too is nearing his end, but he's still firmly insistent on being the one in control of it all.

Jayce whines in struggle, but it's hard to hear with how loud the sound of your own moans echo in the room. You've been using Viktor's cock to hit that one spot over and over, chasing your high without restraint, the familiar clenching of your walls maddening.

“She looks all fucked out. Like she -fuck- like she's so close to cumming around you…”

The other man seems pleased by that if the way you feel him twitch inside you is evidence. “Good observations,” he replies in playful irony. “Perhaps there is still a scientist in there.”

The hand on your stomach leaves its comfortable position to wrap around your neck, the pressure light, just barely restricting airflow.

“Sweet thing,” he calls out to you once more. “You can pick up the pace a little. I want you to never look away from Mr Talis's eyes.”

It's a hard request to fulfill considering how badly you want to squint your eyes shut in the agonizing pleasure; but you try your very best, unshed tears of exhaustion starting to pool and blurying your vision.

The sight of you so desperately trying to obey Viktor's order to focus on nothing but him is what finally undoes Jayce, who lets out one final loud curse:

“Shit-!”

He cums all over your academy blouse with a shout, little droplets reaching as high as your chin. It barely takes three more thrusts against Viktor for you to join him, crying tears of relief as an intense wave of bliss rocks your entire body. With your limbs reduced to nothing but putty, your head falls forward in exhaustion, thankfully stopped by Jayce's strong torso; the fabric of his dress shirt feels like satin against your face, burying your sobs.

Viktor takes a moment longer to reach his peak, fucking into your exhausted body with concentration, thick eyebrows furrowed. It's too much, too rough, and you throw your head back to whine against his neck pitifully. He mutters something unintelligible under his breath before he finally unloads into you with a long groan.

“Shh, good girl,” he compliments you soothingly as his warmth settles into your core, kissing your neck leisurely in praise. “You have done so well.”

He bends your head back slightly more to catch your mouth in an open-mouth kiss, slow and tired, sloppy from your mutual exhaustion. Jayce groans, his hand somehow still on his softened cock, pumping it lazily; his stamina is utterly unbelievable.

“Okay, actually, this might be the hottest thing I've ever seen,” he comments hoarsely, absorbing the way your tongue dances with Viktor's with every inch of his capacities.

Viktor concludes the wet kiss with a small peck on your lips, smiling as your head falls back on his shoulder in fatigue, your eyes shut close.

“Because you managed to get yourself all over her?” he throws back at Jayce, as calm and confident as if he hadn't just made you go through the most intense orgasm of your life. “Your ego will never cease to impress me.”

The stars behind your eyelids are still spinning; you weakly try to move an arm, finding it almost completely unresponsive.

“Sir?” you ask, and you almost don't recognize your voice with how rough and broken it resonates in the empty lab.

“I think we have reached the point where you are allowed to call me by my name in private,” Viktor amusedly hums close to you.

“Viktor, I…”

You want to open your eyes, to look into his golden eyes again and see the way he looks right after sex, but they're sealed shut from how worn out you are. “…I don't think I can move right away.”

That earns you a content chuckle from one man and a disbelieving laugh from the other.

“Jayce,” Viktor asks, now with a tone of request rather than command, “be a gentleman for once and carry her to her bedroom. The poor thing is exhausted.”

Jayce snorts, for once tonight the one hitting back with irony:

“And whose fault is that?”

Viktor’s fingers, still loosely wrapped around your throat as lightly as feathers, slide down to massage the tender muscles at the base of your nape. You moan brokenly into the touch. You couldn't move even if you wanted to.

“Undeniably yours. I am not the one sneaking around in the academy for nefarious purposes,” Viktor retorts playfully, tiredness noticeable but skillfully hidden in his voice. “But if you were to have a bad idea like this once more… I believe I can offer you my services as her supervisor. For both your sakes.”

giving a sleepy, overworked viktor head late in the lab..? and because hes so tired he's just dumb and needy....???? (ig somno if you squint)

18+ ᴍᴅɴɪ

“what do i have to do to pull you away from that?” you sighed, practically hanging off the back of your lover’s chair. you took a quick glance at the clock in the corner of the room, soon to approach midnight. viktor answered you with a simple, deflective hum and you rolled your eyes. if he didn’t complain about the exhaustion making his chronic pain flare up, you would have pulled him away from that desk with your bare hands and throw him on the nearest plush surface. you sighed again, a little louder this time, a little pointed.

“am i boring you, love?” he rasped, exhaustion heavily coating his voice and thickening his accent.

“you really can’t take your eyes off that thing for just a second?” you leant down over his shoulder, exasperatedly nodding toward his project. “not. one. second.” he answered, not even raising his eyes to meet yours, focused entirely on scribbling down what looked to be an equation.

oh. you took that as a challenge.

wordlessly, you gently nudged the wheels of his chair away from its place flush against his desk. he barely noticed, only giving you a slight furrow of his thick brows. you rounded the chair in front of him and slowly sank to your knees. “not one second?” you tilted your head coquettishly. at your words, he allowed himself to spare a glance at you, kneeling before him, under his desk. his breath hitched in his throat, trapping his response in his chest. a glance was all he could afford if he wanted to focus. even in the dim lamplight, you could see the faintest brush of pink across his cheeks. smirking triumphantly, you carefully reach up for the zipper of his pants. he loudly clears his throat when he feels your fingers so close.

“darling.” he called as a warning, stopping short in his work but still refusing to tear his eyes off of it.

“you want me to stop?” you asked earnestly, though you were sure you already knew the answer. he fixed you with a look. a permissive look, but a firm look, like an ‘i can’t resist this but i also won’t endorse it’ kind of look. you bit down on your grinning lip and pulled his pants down entirely. you could feel him tensing his muscles under your hands, willing himself to keep his focus on his work. you slowly pulled his cock from his constraints, giving it a single kiss on the head.

a soft groan rumbled in his throat, one hand dropping his pen and moving to cover his mouth. he could not look at you. he could not look at you. if he looked at you, he’d be done for the night, his brain would be absolutely fried and, oh, goddammit. your cheeks are hollowed, pretty plump lips wrapped around him, mischievous eyes glinting up at him. “fuck.” he groans again, closing his eyes and letting them open in your direction, finally. you braced your hands on his thighs, making sure to dig your nails into the pillowy flesh of his good leg. you finally got those pretty whines to come out. “evil…” his chest rises and falls heavily with each labored breath, becoming more and more ragged the more you fill your mouth with him. “evil woman.”

you giggle as much as you can with him on your tongue and it vibrates oh so good around him, causing him to toss his head back and whimper, “please…” one hand blindly reaches for your hair, gently tangling his long fingers in your locks, guiding you. oh, you’ve got him now. “oh, god, please don’t stop…” you will yourself to take him as deep as you can, and he hisses as he feels his cock hit the back of your throat. he opens his eyes to check on you, pulling you off for a moment. he takes the brief respite to tilt your chin up and give you a few quick kisses, babbling things like sweet girl and i love you so much and i’m sorry for neglecting my poor little darling and i could never say no to that pretty face in between. you can’t help but giggle at his sleepy verbage, more mushy than usual.

“that’s cute.” you take his hand off your chin, threading your own fingers through his. looking at his achingly hard cock. “i wasn’t done, though.”

he gives you one of his cocky, lopsided smiles and pats his lap. “no, no you weren’t.”

I will be ridiculously honest, I like this story just don’t wanna lose this post again 💅🏾

A Night to Remember (Part 1)

ModernAU!Viktor x f!Reader x Jayce Talis | 4K | 18+

Jayce and Viktor hold an end-of-semester party for their co-workers at the university, but not for entirely innocent reasons. They’re both hoping you’ll show up and give either of them a chance, since you’ve been extremely flirty with both of them in the past. This turns into a little friendly competition, and ends in a way neither of them expected.

A/n: this ended up being so damn long that I decided to break it into parts. probably there will be 3 or 4 in total. strap in for the long haul babes, because this is going to be a long ride 😏 

PART 2 | PART 3

Everything was perfect. All the best bottles were lined up against the bar wall, Jayce having to refrain from reaching out and completely centering each one. The house’s music system was connected and streaming a curated playlist Viktor had put together, containing all your favourite songs. All that was left was for you to show up.

“Heard anything yet?” Jayce asked, bringing his thumb to his mouth. Viktor lifted a hand and wrapped it around his wrist, tugging it away before he could start chewing on his nail.

“Well…” Viktor leant against the counter next to his friend, pressing on the little circle of your face. Your recent Instagram story popped up, showing a mirror selfie of you surrounded by your friends as you got ready, a black cowboy hat askew on your head as you lifted a bottle of apple cider to your lips.

“You told her she didn’t need to bring anything, right?” Jayce asked nervously. “I don’t have any party tricks, dude. I’m the cocktail guy, That’s it.”

Viktor huffed a laugh, “Someone’s nervous.”

“Hey,” he frowned, “I’m not the one meticulously planning to queue up the ‘perfect entrance song’ for (Y/n)’s arrival. Seriously, how are you going to time that- Ow!”

Viktor’s smile fell as he accidentally stomped his cane down onto Jayce’s foot. “My bad,” he shrugged, locking his phone and slipping it into his pocket. “She will be here in approximately…” Viktor tapped his chin, muttering, “based on previous parties, she tends to arrive almost an hour late. Never the full hour, though, she never wants to appear rude… hmph, I would say fifteen minutes.”

Jayce shook his head, laughing. “You’re so fucking whipped.”

“Eh, I prefer ‘well-prepared’,” Viktor replied, “Anyway, I am only as ‘whipped’ as you.”

Keep reading

Neon lights

hi babes!!!! not sure what this is but here ya go✨✨✨

Viktor x gender neutral reader, 5k words

modern no magic au, viktor is still disabled but not actively dying au, everyone is an academy student because i said so. this will be a two part story!

summary: The last exams of the season are over in the Academy, and people are celebrating. Jayce, Mel and Viktor have a victorious pub quiz team, and after your classmates stand you up, you join them. And end up spending the night sitting in Viktor's lap.

Warnings: bar scene, implied drinking/alcohol but no-one's really drunk. also i think i might have accidentally given the reader anxiety

Tags: @writingmysanity

It’ll be fun, they’d said. You have to come, they’d said. Let’s all go, they’d said. 

And then they, your stupid traitorous classmates, dared not to show up. Which you, of course, only found out after dragging your sorry ass to the bar. 

It was a statistical miracle none of them were there, really. Celebrating the end of exam season was standard custom, and usually everyone flooded to the closest bars and nightclubs, probably increasing their nightly revenue by at least 500%. 

The place was packed, as usual, but you just couldn’t find any of the people that had participated in talking you into coming. 

Maybe they’re just not here yet, your brain offers only semi-helpfully, and you only semi-believe it. The quiet unsettling anxiety of being alone in a place where everyone else had someone to talk to starts to creep up on you, and a part of you starts to regret leaving home in the first place. For a moment, you wonder if they could have done this to you on purpose, but that doesn’t make much sense, so you try to abandon that particular train of thought. 

It was loud, the floors were sticky, and your clothes were getting more uncomfortable by the minute. You could have been home reading. Watching a movie. Playing a game. Something. Something familiar, something quiet, something comfortable. 

An annoying little echo of something one of your friends – real friends, not ones that stood you up at bars – had said to you once plays out in your head. 

Doing things is good for you. 

Don’t be alone all the time. 

You sigh a little to yourself. 

Ugh, fine, you think, and then you take a deep breath, squish that creeping anxiety like an annoying bug, and walk to the bar. 

You were already there. 

You might as well try to have some fun. There was supposed to be a pub quiz later – with only topics that no-one would have to learn in school – and that seemed interesting. Maybe you could get something good to drink, find a nice corner, and try that. One person teams were allowed, if you remembered correctly. 

The bar is crowded, with everyone wanting drinks and refills and trying to hit on the bartenders, so you have to wait a while before you can order, but that’s fine. At least you have something to do. 

Leaning on the counter, you look around as you wait your turn. The place was full of students; some of whom you recognized but didn’t really know, people you had seen around but never talked to, a few you’d shared classes or lab shifts with but no longer remembered the names of. 

It makes you feel a little better that to them, you were probably just another nameless face in the crowd, just like they were to you. 

Slowly, you get used to the surroundings, the too-loud mind numbing music and soft-sticky floors, people bumping into you occasionally. It all fades into a background mush of a steady hum and droning of the bass.

When it’s finally your turn, you order something that had a strange name and a funny color, and that was definitely overpriced. But everything there was, so you try not to dwell on it. Your drink comes with a purple glow stick and turns out to be sweet, ambiguously fruity, and so good that a part of you was disappointed. 

You’d want more of those. 

Dammit. 

You tuck that thought to the back of your head – a problem for future you – and walk away from the counter, making space for other people waiting to order. You’re not sure if the whole drink is purple, or if that’s just the glow stick, but you decide that that doesn’t really matter.

Looking for a free spot away from the loudspeakers, you successfully make it to a far corner without spilling your drink or crashing into anybody, which was, in itself, a victory of sorts. 

And then you almost spill your drink anyway when someone calls your name. Loudly. 

It’s Jayce. One of the more familiar faces on campus. You’d had some classes with him, seen him around, in events and workshops and at the library. He was the kind of person that seemed to be everywhere, so really, you weren’t that surprised to see him. He could pop up at the lab, or in an office or a hallway somewhere, or a fundraiser or a gala or a competition at any given moment, smile politely and stop for some smalltalk, and then continue on his way. He was everywhere and he was friends with everybody, at least on some level, it seemed. Most often he was in the company of one of two people, though; 

Mel, who was currently sitting on his lap, 

or Viktor, who was sitting next to them, avoiding being squished between Jayce and the wall. The three of them were on a two-person couch, in one of the far corners.

You gather yourself and slip closer to them, grateful to have somewhere to go and someone to hang out with.

Mel being there didn’t surprise you. She was – not shockingly – also the type of person that seemed to be everywhere or at least have some contacts there, so her participation in social events wasn’t out of the ordinary. She was studying something in the realm of political science, you weren’t sure of the details, but you had already mentally accepted the possibility that she would probably be running for president someday. 

Viktor, however? Viktor didn’t…do this. Not that you knew, at least. You’d shared classes with him, too, and he was in the lab more often than not. You weren’t exactly sure what he did as a student and what he did as a teacher’s assistant, the line between the two seemed to be a bit hazy, and he also seemed to have some independent job working at the lab. He’d talked about it before, but you were pretty sure you still didn’t know all of it. 

He was the type of person that would just casually say I have to go tend to the porous silicon now, excuse me, and never explain what the porous silicon was for, because apparently that part was obvious.

Or, you know, he’d reveal himself as working as a teacher’s assistant only after you’d only complained to him about the poor quality the class had been organized in. 

At least he had had fun with that one.

And at least he’d agreed. 

So, when you saw him, it was usually either in the lab, in the library, or out somewhere getting coffee. Most of your interactions consisted of lab-related things, or homework, or complaining about the inconvenient and too-short hours places such as the library, the cafeteria, or the coffee shops were open.

This was not a place you expected to see him in. 

“Care to join our team?” Mel asks, pulling you out of your thoughts, “We could use a fourth.”

Ah. 

The pub quiz. 

That made sense. 

You relax a little as you get out of the crowd properly and close enough to talk to them without having to shout. “Sure,” You say, giving them a smile, “Sounds fun.” 

Then, you lick your lips and swallow, looking over the room quickly again. “I was supposed to come here with some classmates but I think they might have stood me up.” 

Mel hums a little in response, Jayce frowns, and Viktor looks almost a little offended on your behalf. 

“Well, we’re more than happy to have you on our team.” Mel continues, “Do you happen to have any obscure areas of expertise that might be useful?”

You smile at her. “I guess we’ll have to see.” 

“Last chance to google something.” Jayce says, already looking down at his phone.

You furrow your brows, a little amused, and look at Viktor. “Do you guys usually prepare for this a lot?” You ask, “You know the winners get like, a coupon for drinks, not their weight in gold and half the kingdom?”

Viktor smiles a little. “Yes,” He answers, leaning forward slightly, “but it’s more fun if you win.” 

“Besides,” Jayce adds, still not looking up from his phone, “free drinks.” 

“And –” Viktor nods, even though Jayce can’t see him, “if we get enough of those coupons, isn’t it kind of like getting half the kingdom?”

“Oh, so you’re playing the long game then,” You smile, “going to win, what, for the next couple of decades and drink for free?”

“Give or take.” He answers, “Not sure where this place is valued at. Might take less than a decade. This isn’t exactly a high-class establishment.”

“But it is popular,” Mel interjects, sounding like she’s only half-serious, “students bring in a lot of money. Not compared to some other places, but still.”

Jayce hums in agreement, shifting a little in his place as he puts his phone away. He only needs to point towards the nearest table before Mel leans over, grabs a piece of paper that was, apparently, their answer sheet, and modifies their team to include four, not three people. 

“You should sit,” She says, as she’s writing, and for a second you just look at her. 

Where? is the obvious question your brain immediately supplies, you three barely fit there and there’s no free seats anywhere. 

Before you can ask, she looks up at you and answers. 

By gesturing towards Viktor. 

“It would make me look better if you sat on his lap, too.” Mel continues, like it’s the most reasonable thing ever, “That way I won’t stand out as much and look stupid on my own. Besides, we’ll all be close to each other that way. Easier to conspire.”

For a moment, you stare at her. 

And then you stare at Viktor, who is, slowly but steadily, turning slightly red. 

“Hang on,” Jayce says, “you think sitting on my lap makes you look stupid?”

Mel smiles and leans back against him. “Depends on the context.” Mel answers, before turning her attention back to you, and to Viktor. 

Who clears his throat. 

“I mean – if you want –” He says, and it’s exactly as much of a coherent sentence as you were expecting. It’s exactly as much of a coherent sentence as you would have been capable of in his place. 

“Are you sure?” You ask him, slightly hesitant. This was, this whole situation and where it was going, wildly uncharted waters. Yes, you were friends or – or something, you were closer to him than you were to anyone else there, but sitting in his lap was not something you had expected to happen. 

And – yes, you were not opposed to the idea, not at all, but – 

“Yes,” He answers, “don’t worry, you won’t break me.” 

“He’s tougher than he looks.” Jayce agrees, and for a second, you just let yourself feel everything around you. 

The music. The sticky floor. The aftertaste of the sugary sweet drink in your mouth. The way Viktor was looking at you. 

The moment. 

You mentally strangle the hesitant anxiety pooling at the bottom of your stomach, shrug softly with one shoulder, and take a few steps to stand directly in front of Viktor, your knees brushing his. Handing your drink to Mel for safekeeping, you carefully settle into his lap, barely daring to breathe, making sure not to knock over the cane that was leaning against the wall next to him. 

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” You ask him quietly, leaning back slightly so he could hear you better, “You should tell me if I am.”

He swallows – you can feel it. “Eh, no –” He says, and his voice is so close that it surprises you, “ – you’re not. Don’t worry.” 

You exhale, slowly, and try your best to relax. 

Trying is the best you can do, though – feeling him pressed against you is causing way too many thoughts and feelings to happen for you to truly focus on anything else. He was warm, and firm, and you could feel his breathing, and you were sitting in his lap. 

You were. In his lap. 

You were not even going to let your brain go there. 

No, this was a normal, casual situation, and you were going to be cool about it. So what if you had a crush on him? So what if you could feel him pressed against your back, your ass –

“Good.” Mel says, smiling as she hands your drink back to you. You take it, carefully, trying not to move too much in case it’d make him uncomfortable. 

You were going to be cool about this. 

You came here to have fun, and that’s what you were going to do. 

“Thanks.” You tell her, giving her a smile and trying your best to act normal about the whole situation. 

“What is that?” She asks, motioning towards your drink with one hand, “It looks good.” 

“Oh.” You answer, looking down at your drink again, racking your brain for the name of it, “Something new, I think? It was called, uh, Krypton?” 

“Right, they’re doing that periodic table thing.” Jayce comments.

“Naming drinks after elements?” Mel asks, “Why?”

“Probably because a lot of nerds frequent this place.” Viktor answers, and again, his voice is so close that it’s like he’s talking directly into your ear. You can feel it, the words rumbling through his chest. 

“What’s it taste like?” Mel continues, ignoring his comment, “Krypton?”

You hum thoughtfully, and take a sip. 

“I would hope not.” Viktor answers while you’re trying to figure out what it does taste like.

“Krypton doesn’t taste like anything.” He continues, “That’d be a pretty sad drink.”

You can’t help smiling at his answer. 

“Why do you know that?” You ask, leaning closer to him again, tilting back your head slightly. 

You can’t see it, but you can hear the smile in his voice when he answers. 

“I know a lot of things. You'd be surprised.” He says. 

Quietly. 

Just for you. 

Before you let yourself get too focused on what his voice sounds like that – close and quiet, so close – you take a breath and turn to look at Mel again. 

“I think it tastes like lemon and rose.” 

She lifts her eyebrows and nods thoughtfully. “I think I’m going to try that once we get our kingdom’s worth of free drinks.”

“Wasn’t it half a kingdom?” Jayce asks, reaching for his own drink on the table.

“I’m optimistic.” Mel answers, smiling. 

“Is krypton purple?” Jayce then continues, now, you’re assuming, to Viktor. 

He hums in answer, and you can feel it. Every slow second of his chest reverberating against your spine, you could feel it resonate in your rib cage, and then when he speaks, it’s no better. His voice is so close that it’s all you could focus on, etching the sound of it into permanent memory without even trying. 

“It glows purple,” He says, “if you run a high enough voltage electric current through it. It’s colorless, normally, but for the sake of argument I guess we can say that it’s purple, yes.”

“Huh.” Jayce answers, leaning back in his seat. 

Viktor mirrors his movement, and you can feel him shift under you. 

His hand brushes your side, and then settles by your waist, a weight so light you half think you’re imagining it.

That, inevitably, reminds your entire body of the position you were in, which was extremely close to him. and you need to focus a lot of your energy on not combusting on the spot. You had never been so close to him before – why would you have been, you were friends – and this was… a whole lot of entirely new sensations. 

He was so close. 

What was he thinking? What was he feeling?

Was it as much as you were feeling?

You were acutely aware of every single point of contact between your bodies, and you were trying not to think about it too much, but, well, that’s just impossible. He was so close, and you could still feel his every breath, feel his every word rumble through his chest, and – 

Mel says something to you, pulling your focus back to her. She’s explaining how the quiz works, what the rules are, and you try your best to listen. 

In the background, though, Jayce and Viktor are talking something about circuit boards, and you can feel his every word. And it is wonderful and heavy and almost unfair, how he’s so close and not closer. How he’s talking like this, every word brushing past your ear, and you know it’s not really what it feels like. This isn’t for you, you’re just there. 

But…he wouldn’t have agreed to this if he didn’t want you there, right? He wasn’t a person that did things he didn’t want to do. He didn’t stay in situations he didn’t like. And he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to be. 

He hums in response to something Jayce had said, and leans closer to you.

Closer to the table. 

“Can you hand me my drink?” He asks, voice quiet, and very close to your ear. Smooth, and gentle, and low, it goes straight to the pit of your stomach. You can feel him nod towards the table, and, presumably, the one half-full glass there.

For a single heartbeat, you just revel in that feeling. And then you let go of that and lean towards the table, putting down your own drink and grabbing what must have been his.

“Yeah,” You exhale, and hold it out to him carefully. “here.” 

His hand snakes past you, and his fingers brush yours, careful as ever as he takes the drink from you. “Thank you.” He breathes, so close you can feel his breath on your cheek, and you have to suppress a shiver. 

And then he’s back to talking about the circuit boards – something about heat resistant coating and trying to find a new way to attach some wires – and you listen. Try not to feel guilty about how much you were enjoying every second. 

They go back and forth for a moment, going through ideas, and you listen. You’re not sure what it’s about, not anything you were familiar with. Probably not course work, then.

You reach over to the table to grab your own drink again, and then settle back against him. He’s mid-sentence, saying something about mechanical stress – No, that won’t work, it will put too much stress on the wires – and you sip your drink, trying to figure out what they were talking about. They both probably knew more about engineering than you did, but you were still curious. 

“What’s the problem?” You ask, leaning back against his chest and tilting your head up, closer to him. 

He breathes out a quiet hum before explaining. 

“We want to connect two circuit boards in moving parts,” He explains, “which means it needs to be more durable than it is now. The solder keeps breaking, and the wires would get damaged in the long run.” 

You hum thoughtfully, trying to get a hold of the problem. “What have you tried so far?”

“Additional joints,” Jayce answers, and you can feel Viktor nod. 

“Heat resistant coating, it protects the wires.” Viktor adds.

“...But not the connections.” You continue the thought, nodding.

“Right.” Viktor agrees, “The components are small, the solder can’t take the stress.” 

You hum thoughtfully, thinking it through. “Right.” 

And then you lean towards Mel, and the answer sheet for the oncoming quiz. “Gimme.” You reach towards the paper, “The pen, too.”

She looks surprised, and you roll your eyes a little. “I’m going to use the blank side.” You reassure her, and slowly, she hands you the paper and the pen.

“Have you tried putting any kind of casing around the connection?” You ask, “What’s the geometry like?”

“Eh–” He starts, leaning closer to see the paper, “No. And it’s flat.” Then, he shifts a little, “Do we have space for casings?” 

That’s aimed towards Jayce, and while he thinks, you draw a tentative sketch of what you were thinking. If the soldered connections were the brittle part but the wire itself could be coated, they could build a protective casing around the connection, and let the wire go through it. 

“If we move around the components a bit,” Jayce answers, “then I think so, yeah?”

You can feel Viktor nod slowly, and he leans closer, to look at the paper over your shoulder. 

“Would something like this work?” You ask, knowing he was watching, studying it. You lean back and put down the pen, giving him a better view of what you’d drawn. 

He hums thoughtfully, and his breath hits your cheek, the low rumble of his voice feeling like it wraps itself around your spine and drips straight into your core. 

You do your best to ignore it. 

“Could work.” He says quietly, before reaching for the pen. You tug it closer for him to reach, and he takes it, and scribbles something down to the paper, too. 

“We have three wires,” He mutters, drawing three small lines inside your model of the casing. “we’d need to –” He trails off, and you assume that at this point, he’s mainly talking to himself. That’s okay by you; you just listen to his voice and watch as he draws with quick, nimble fingers. His breathing is deep and steady, and you can feel all of it.

He keeps sketching, and then exhales deeply, shifting slightly again. “That could work. We could try that.” He says, thoughtfully, lifting the paper from the table and looking at it for a moment before handing it to Jayce. “What do you think?” 

You smile, proud of yourself for potentially solving their problem, and Jayce looks over the sketch, squinting in the low lighting. 

As Viktor leans back to his original spot, you settle against him again – and his hand grips your hip, hard, holding you in place. 

“Please don’t say anything.” He whispers, quiet and breathy, directly into your ear. Closer than at any point before.

For one fast heartbeat, you’re confused. 

And then you realize what’s going on; in the new position, you’re pressed against him again.

“I can’t–” He continues through his teeth, voice still so quiet you barely make it out, and the sentence ends in a quiet, frustrated groan. "...control this, at the moment."

You can feel his breathing, now considerably less relaxed than before, and – you’re pretty sure you could even feel his heartbeat, fast and pounding against you. 

Unless that was your own. You weren’t sure.

You could feel every inch of him pressed against you. 

Including what was definitely an erection. 

The realization makes heat flood through you, and with it, a few anxious knots somewhere deep inside you dissolve. 

One, he definitely wasn’t uncomfortable with you being in his lap, then, at least not in the way you’d feared, and two; you weren’t the only one feeling like this. Feeling like your skin was tingling, like you wanted to drink in every second of this and burn it to your memory, your focus honing in on every point of contact.

You glance over at Jayce and Mel – both studying the drawing now. 

Good. 

You smile a little to yourself. 

“Circuit boards, then?” You whisper, tilting your head so that you were talking only to him, “That’s what does it for you?” 

He exhales a small, slightly-strangled chuckle, and briefly drops his head on your shoulder. 

“Right.” He mutters. “That’s what this is about. Absolutely doesn’t have anything to do with you.” 

He still sounds like he’s whispering through gritted teeth, and for a moment, you feel genuinely sorry for him. 

But not so sorry that it would cancel out everything else you were feeling about him.

This was the guy you’d had a crush on for – far too long. And here he was. Like this. Because of you. 

You were on uncharted waters, for sure; teetering on the edge of something. 

And you wanted to know what was on the other side. 

“If it makes you feel better,” You say slowly, quietly, letting your fingers brush his thigh, “I’ve been turned on since I sat here and felt you pressed against me like this, heard your voice so close.”

You can feel him take a deep, slightly-shaky breath. “No,” He mutters, “that definitely does not make me feel better. Or, it does, but that’s not good, it also means it’s going to be a lot more difficult to –” He swallows. "Compose myself again."

“Sorry.” You breathe out. 

You’re not sorry. Not really. And he knows it; you can hear it in the half groan - half sigh that he makes. 

“How am I supposed to focus on anything,” He whispers, “like this, when you’re right there?”

“Sorry.” You try again, and it’s not sincere this time, either. 

“This is torture.” 

“The good kind?”

He swallows, and his hand on your hip flexes, tightening the grip.

“The best.”

You look over to Jayce and Mel again. They’re talking about something, you can’t hear what it is, but that’s just good. It means that odds are they couldn’t have heard anything of your conversation either. 

Mel gets your attention first, asking you to go to the bathroom with her before the quiz – apparently she needs a buffer to make sure she doesn’t get caught in any conversations – and as she explains this, Viktor’s grip on your hip loosens, and he sighs quietly. 

“Sorry.” You breathe in his direction, this time more sincerely. 

In response, he lets out a long exhale, and shifts a little as you get up. 

You feel genuinely bad for him now, but at this point, there wasn’t much you could do. 

At least there was a table in front of him. 

Mel tells the boys to watch your drinks as she pulls you along. The people had moved to the tables, mostly, in anticipation of the quiz, and the bathroom wasn’t as crowded as it could have been. You don’t even need to wait in line. 

“Still no sign of your friends?” Mel asks, casually, as she’s checking her makeup in the mirror.

“No,” You answer, “but they’re not really my friends. Just classmates.”

She hums in answer. Then, she changes the topic, as smoothly as she does everything else. 

“How’s it going with Viktor?” She asks, and coming from her, it sounds casual. Like a totally normal question. 

You don’t know how to give her a normal answer, though. 

She glances at you, waiting. 

“What do you mean?” You ask, which is stupid, because the question doesn’t really leave much up for interpretation.

She lifts a single eyebrow. “I mean,” She says, slowly, “you two fit together like nuts and bolts, the boy has had a massive thing for you for ages, and you’re sitting in his lap.” She lists, “So, how’s it going?” 

You swallow, trying to think of something to say. 

“Good,” You start, “good, I guess?” 

That was true. It definitely wasn’t going badly. It was weird and new and you wanted to speak to him somewhere where you could be alone, but whatever this weird new thing was it definitely wasn’t bad. 

She hums again. Looks at you for a moment, before turning back to her reflection. “Good.” She echoes, “He deserves good things.” She adds, “And so do you.” 

You nod a little, not sure how to answer.

She doesn’t wait for an answer before walking out. "Come on."

Right. 

Now you just needed to go back out there, sit on his lap for the rest of the night without spontaneously combusting, and figure out where to go from there. 

That was going to be fun.

Part 2