#viktor wips

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Pre-Written Segment

The fun thing about working with experimental materials is that you never really know exactly what’s going to happen. You can hypothesize as much as you want, using logic and common sense in an attempt to accurately predict that which is to come. But at the end of the day, when you’re the one discovering new mixtures and compounds, and writing their laws, you’re likely to stumble across surprises.

It’s a weekly occurrence by now: you find something incredibly interesting during your scientific endeavors - like a metal that grows stronger when it’s heated, or a substance that when blended with water, makes it light and fluffy and dry - and you just have to show your best friend.

Every single time you make a discovery, you rush to tell Viktor. You’re fully aware that very little of what you study would ever be useful to him; you’re both scientists in your own right, but your fields are completely different.

And yet, every single time you run pellmell into the lab, with your work clutched tightly in your hands, he humours you. He sighs deeply the second you barge in, but he puts away whatever he was doing and settles in to learn about whatever it is you’ve brought.

He’s resigned about it, you know, but he listens nonetheless.

He slouches back in his chair and leans his cheek on his palm, asking specific questions where they’re appropriate, and otherwise remaining silent while you speak.

Such has been your routine for years now. You know you’re probably a significant annoyance in his life, but you can’t help it - you’re passionate about what you do, and you want to share it with him. 

Him. Viktor. The only person who’s ever encouraged you to strive for your goals.

—

Which is why it’s such a shock when he shows up in your lab one afternoon.

Startling your diligent but nervous underlings as he makes his way over to your desk, garnering the attention of the entire room as he stops behind you, clearing his throat when you don’t notice him right away.

You’re certain you look a mess, with your hair sticking out in every direction, and two pairs of goggles balanced carefully on top of each other, lab coat rumpled and your tie folded into a wayward knot around your neck.

“Could you spare a moment of your time?” he wonders, keeping his voice low. “It’s about…”

You watch as he glances over his shoulder, and bite back a snicker when your students suddenly disperse and go back to their studies. Only to pause and peek over again when Viktor’s gaze is back on you.

To their credit, they do try to be subtle in their nosiness - you’ve seen your kids when they’re blatantly asking questions, staring without shame and interrupting you every time they want to know something. That being said, they’re definitely scientists, not spies.

And Viktor knows it, too.

“Perhaps I might explain myself when we’re…less likely to be overheard?” he suggests, once again turning his face to glare over his shoulder. “The matter is confidential, and I’m sure your students are good people, but…”

He sighs softly, and tightens his hand on the grip of his cane.

“Jayce and I have hit an unintentional roadblock, and we can’t proceed until we figure out what’s going on,” he explains. “It’s a little bit out of our area, and though figuring it out would be an entertaining challenge, we don’t have time on our side. Would you come by the lab tonight, if possible?”

You’re surprised that something in their line of work could pertain to your own, but you’ve never been one to resist helping a friend.

“I’ll drop by when my shift is over,” you agree, with a soft smile.

The “I Got Lazy And Decided To Jot Everything Down Instead” Segment

-All this leads to The Reader doing as she’s asked. She still can’t figure out why her help would be needed with a hextech experiment, but she’s not going to pass up the opportunity to spend time with Viktor.

-She arrives at the lab a little later than intended, but only by a couple minutes. The time is inconsequential. She knocks on the door once, before pushing it open and peeking into the room.

R: Viktor? Jayce? Sorry I’m late, I had to help a couple of students with their projects.

-Despite her introduction, nothing is said. There is no movement in the lab, no sound. Even the lights are off, casting the room in a cold and eerie gloom.

-She enters the room, and briefly wonders if perhaps she was TOO late. But then why would the door have been unlocked?

R: Viktor?

-As if on cue, there’s a small clatter as Viktor’s head suddenly shoots off his desk, startling both himself and The Reader. She stares at him with wide eyes, but he only seems perplexed. And dazed. The Reader can’t help but smile.

R: Did you fall asleep?

-He returns her stare for a couple moments, before breaking it to rub at his eyes.

V: It would appear so. Jayce had a prior engagement tonight, and I suppose without his constant chattering, I wasn’t able to keep my head up.

-He looks sheepish.

V: What time is it?

-The Reader shrugs, moving closer.

R: ‘Bout half past eight - not terrible, all things considered. You know, it wouldn’t kill you to lay down every now and again, and get some actual rest. There’s a couch in here for a reason.

-Viktor rolls his eyes at her gentle chastising, though the action isn’t annoyed or malicious. Rather, he seems quite fond of her worrying, despite the fact that such things are usually met with disdain and ignorance.

V: I’m fine, see? Napping at my desk is hardly a bad thing.

-The Reader presses her lips into a thin, disapproving line. She wants to say more, but at the end of the day, the choice is his. She already bothers him enough, with her constant visiting and chatting, and she doesn’t want to give him more reasons to not be around her.

-As if sensing the desire to change the subject, Viktor pipes up.

V: I asked you here for a reason, though.

-He stands, stretches briefly, and leads her over to a small table, upon which a short three-legged stand is set up. Sitting in the crux of its hold is a sphere, about the size of a fist, made out of what appears to be glass.

R: Is…that some kind of jumbo hex crystal?

-Viktor grabs the ball off the stand and inspects it for a couple seconds, then hands it to her.

V: Similar, but no.

-The Reader turns the object over in her hands, studying it closely.

V: It doesn’t generate energy like the crystals are meant to do. Rather, it’s designed to store it, and keep it safe for later use.

-The Reader glances up at him.

R: A battery?

-Viktor nods.

V: Just with a significantly lower decay rate, and less volatility than the traditional hex crystal. If we could implant these into machinery, it would erase the need for fuel, like the original crystals would. It would just be…

R: …less likely to explode?

-He smiles again.

V: Precisely.

-His expression falls slightly, though, as The Reader further inspects the sphere. Rotating it around, and scrutinizing the details, until she finally notices something. Within the orb, a thin sheen of liquid, clear but with the slightest opalescent hue.

R: What’s the stuff on the inside? Does it help store energy?

-Viktor frowns slightly, and sighs.

V: That’s actually why I requested your assistance. When Jayce and I were charging the prototype -the one you’re holding- it…began to fill with gas.

-He takes the orb back.

V: We feared the glass might not hold under the sudden shift in internal pressure, so we stopped the experiment. For now. At least until we can figure out what’s inside, what its purpose is, and how to stop it.

-The Reader nods sagely.

R: And you need my help because…?

-Viktor looks genuinely surprised by her question.

V: You’re adept in chemical science. You study reactions and interactions, and molecular structure. I figured something like this would be easy for you.

-The Reader hums thoughtfully, her mind already going off on its tangents, trying to figure out what the mystery gas-liquid is. She’s never seen something like it, at least not that she remembers.

R: It’s more complicated than you think it is. However, I’ll do my best to help out - so long as you promise not to fuck around with this stuff if I’m not present. I don’t think it’s harmful, but we won’t know until we crack the thing open. And I’ve been wrong before.

-Viktor’s eyes widen at the idea of shattering the orb, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows that the pursuit of knowledge sometimes requires breaking things apart and dissecting them. He eventually nods.

V: I assume you won’t want to open the sphere until you know for certain what’s inside?

-The Reader is surprised now.

R: What? No, I want to crack it tonight. I’m curious. But I do think we should wear gloves. And maybe masks. Goggles too, honestly.

—

-Twenty minutes later, they’re decked out in the best gear they could find. Nothing extraordinary, but hopefully enough to protect them from a little bit of mystery goo.

V: It’s cooled down by now, so disrupting the glass probably won’t be an issue.

-The Reader tosses a towel over the unsuspecting orb anyways, raising a small hammer.

R: It might still be pressurized because of the accumulated fluid. Cover your ears; this won’t be pleasant.

-He does as he’s told for once in his life, and The Reader brings the hammer down.

-As she predicted, the moment the glass cracks, the orb explodes. Not as violently as either of them were preparing for, but certainly very loud. Loud enough that The Reader immediately hisses and drops the hammer, her hands flying to her ears.

-Like some kind of sound grenade, her entire head is left ringing, allowing very little other sound in. Viktor’s attention is on her immediately, neither of them paying attention to the remnants of the sphere. His hands on her shoulders, checking quickly for signs of physical damage.

-His voice is muffled still, but the ringing is thankfully beginning to fade, slowly allowing the world to creep back in.

V: Are you alright? Did any of the debris hit you?

-The concern in his voice is real, his grip on her tight and intense. She’s bordering on hyper-aware of him, though that’s something she deals with frequently. She sighs.

R: I’m okay. The pop took my hearing for a second, but it’s coming back. I…guess we probably should have worn earmuffs too, huh?

-She’s sheepish, and despite their covered faces, they share a goofy grin, which is only obvious based on their body posture. The Reader’s heart is fluttering wildly in her chest now. She’s certain they both look a mess, with all their protective equipment askew, on the brink of laughing wildly.

-Until Viktor pushes the goggles up onto his forehead, and tugs his mask down a little bit. He looks serious all of a sudden, but also looks like he desperately wants to say something. Taking a breath in and opening his mouth.

-Until The Reader stops him abruptly.

R: Do you smell that?

-They both take a deep breath in, curious about the sudden sweet, flowery scent filling the air. They’re distracted for a moment, both of them seemingly growing intoxicated, especially Viktor, who almost seems entranced. Until The Reader gathers her wits, and turns to look at the covered remains of the orb.

-The towel, saturated with an unknown fluid, and a reddish gas pouring forth from it.

R: Shit! Put your mask back up - I think it’s oxidizing.

-She hurries around to grab the glass jar they’d set out earlier, sweeping everything into it with a gloved hand. Even through her mask, she can still smell the deliciously sweet perfume, so delightful that it’s almost making her dizzy.

-But even once the experiment is cleaned up and sealed away, the room is still fogged slightly. She wonders if the gas has changed the temperature, but she doesn’t see how. If anything, the air feels cool on her skin, which has become warm to the touch.

-But she’s worried by the fact that she can still smell whatever chemical was released.

V: Should we crack a window open, perhaps? It’s…a little warm in here.

-She’s relieved that it’s not just her who’s feeling it.

R: We shouldn’t let it spread into the hallway, and we have no idea what might happen if it gets outside.

V: Surely in such a small quantity-

R: It only takes a single bead of mercury to completely destroy a ten tonne aluminum barrel. We don’t know what this stuff is, which means we need to keep it as contained as possible.

-Viktor looks like he wants to argue, but he knows that she’s got a point. He watches silently as she moves over to the backpack she brought, digging out a couple supplies. Little testing kits, by the looks of it, and a fresh notebook.

R: It’ll take more extensive research to figure out what we’re dealing with, more than what I packed. But we should be able to learn a little bit about it, in the meantime.

-She grabs a pen out of her bag as well, and hands the two objects to Viktor. Trying to ignore the electric sensation of their finger brushing for a moment.

R: I’m going to need my hands for this, so do you think you’d be able to take the notes?

-His gaze is trained on where they briefly touched, before snapping up to her face. Dazed, and red on the tips of his ears, he nods.

—

-Over the next half hour, they run their tests. The red mist in the air doesn’t seem to be dissipating or settling, and both of them can smell it clearly. The Reader knows that some of it has gotten through their masks, but her hope is that any harmful properties will be lessened if they’re slightly filtered.

R: Will you read off what we’ve got so far?

V: Should I list ‘lack of focus’ as a side effect?

-The Reader grumbles a little bit.

-They’re both sprawled on the couch now, feverish and sweaty. Both of them have foregone their shoes and outer layers.Viktor’s tie is draped over the arm of the couch, and both of them have their pants and sleeves rolled up as far as they’ll go. Their shirts unbuttoned beyond what is professional, foreheads damp. Protective gear still diligently donned.

V: Fine. Substance: unknown. Oily texture when in liquid form, with the thin consistency of water. Clear in appearance, save for a slight light-reflecting, pearly sheen.

-He tugs at his collar a bit.

V: When the liquid comes into contact with oxygen, or perhaps carbon dioxide, it reacts violently and quickly starts forming a red gas that hangs low in the air. It appears slightly heavier than oxygen, but prolonged exposure suggests it mingles with the particles, rather than consuming or bonding with them. Without external prompting, however, the gas does not naturally disperse and instead remains in a cloud-like formation.

-He turns the page with a shaking hand.

V: In…in liquid form, a particular scent is unable to be discerned, due to it’s volatility with breathable air. The gas, on the other hand, has a strong, sweet smell. Like a confectioners kitchen, or fresh-blooming lilacs. It permeates the room, but is not overpowering to the senses.

-The Reader nods along as he speaks, a little dazed and distracted. The sound of Viktor’s voice is intoxicating to her - he always is, always affecting her in some kind of way. But never like this - never to such a desperate, unhinged extent.

V: While the gas doesn’t immediately appear to be toxic, it does seem to have an effect on the human body. Raising the core temperature by no more than two degrees, it seems to also cause some delay in cognitive function. Perhaps because of the fever, but perhaps because there is another reaction going on in the brain, or the nervous system. Long-term effects are unknown.

-He swallows hard, his throat clicking slightly with how dry it is.

V: The gas…doesn’t appear to…to…

-He pauses a moment, taking a breath.

V: The gas doesn’t appear to have a taste, and the liquid is undetermined. Effects may be different if ingested, rather than inhaled.

-He lets the notebook lay flat on his lap, his head falling back to rest on the couch. Displaying the pale expanse of his throat. The Reader’s heart flutters.

V: Is there anything else you would like to add?

-He sounds breathless.

R: Muh…

-It takes her a second to gather her thoughts.

R: Muscle weakness. And slight tremors. Increased heart rate, and possibly elevated blood pressure.

-He hastily scribbles it down. The Reader tries paying attention to her body, to what’s going on, but it proves fruitless and embarrassing. She’s a scientist, but she still doesn’t want to admit all the ways that she seems to be altered.

-Increased sensitivity to the world around her, the crawling, tight feeling in her lower abdomen - it’s been a while since she’s felt this amount of physical desire, but she recognizes it nonetheless. Lust. Made worse by Viktor’s presence, and her pre-existing feelings for him.

V: You’re distracted again.

-The Reader pops back to attention, and Viktor huffs a laugh, a sound which sends little chills all through her body.

V: I said, is there anything else you can think of?

-The Reader swallows thickly, and despite their mutual face coverings, she feels as though he’s staring right at her.

R: I- um. No. No, not unless you want to add anything.

-He apparently stares at her for a few more seconds, before turning to the notebook to begin writing. Extensively.

-The Reader watches for a moment, before her thoughts and eyes inevitably start wandering. Observing his hands while he works, nimble and dextrous. Trailing up slender forearms, noting all the little dots and freckles.

-Up to his shoulders, surprisingly broad for his lean stature, the sharp edge of his collarbone visible where his shirt is undone. His throat, where she wants to leave countless bruises.

-A new wave of warmth washes over her, then, making it particularly hard to breathe, her chest tight and her throat dry and sticky.

-Suddenly choking on nothing, she fights with her mask for a couple seconds before ripping it off, coughing. Drawing the attention of Viktor. He appears to be startled or concerned by her sudden lack of protective face-wear, but more-so with the fact that she momentarily lost the ability to breathe.

-He reaches towards her out of instinct, but he pauses just before they touch, thinking about his actions before pulling back slightly. As if he couldn’t stand to lay a hand on her.

-Anxiety begins to bubble up. Has he noticed how she’s feeling? Is he put off by it? Angry? Disgusted? He doesn’t say anything, but she can feel his gaze on her. Pensive. Contemplating.

-And then, all at once, The Reader feels dizzy. But not nauseated. Like she’s floating, or embraced in a warm hug. It’s dazzling, and addicting. Is she dying? Is she slowly asphyxiating, after all? What a way to go.

-She briefly notices Viktor making to remove his mask alongside her, but she’s quick to raise a bumbling hand.

R: Keep it on, V.

-He hooks his fingers beneath it.

V: It’s not going to kill us-

R: It’s certainly doing something, though.

-Figuring there’s no sense in hiding it any longer, she yoinks the goggles off her head and sets them on the arm of the couch. She’s utterly faded, and as much is obvious. Her eyes are lidded, and her pupils are blown wide.

-Viktor observes her for a moment, before pulling his own eyewear off, followed by the mask. He flops back into the couch cushions, while the gas takes full effect over him. His breath catches in his throat, before he relaxes fully and goes boneless.

V: Do you…supposed we have mistakenly created a drug?

-The Reader hums halfheartedly.

R: We don’t know the full effects of it yet. For all we know, this is how it kills us.

-He sighs.

V: I have my doubts.

R: I thought I was the expert?

V: You are - I just-

-He sighs again, louder.

V: It’s obviously having an effect on the nervous system - otherwise it wouldn’t feel like this. Every neurotoxin I can think of will kill you in under ten minutes - or at the very least, render you unconscious.

-The Reader swats at him

R: Firstly, there are so many neurotoxins that don’t follow that rule. Secondly, where have you seen this stuff before?

V: I haven’t seen it! I’m just saying - poisons have their limitations, and their rules-

R: Rules are meant to be broken. That’s literally what hextech does.

V: I- you’re not wrong, but-

R: But what? Nothing else created in this lab behaves exactly the way it’s expected to. Why would this be any different?

-Viktor appears to be growing frustrated, agitated, perhaps because of the gas.

V: Hextech still follows the laws of physics-

R: Does it? The hex crystals: a source of perpetual energy, explosive and volatile, yet with no other energetic decay or radiation output?

V: Why do you know so much about physics?!

R: I study chemicals and molecules for a living! I have to know how things behave!

-They’re both riled up at this point, though The Reader can’t really discern why. She feels the same as before - she’s not even upset or angry. She feels good. They’re both sat up straighter, leaning slightly towards each other, like some kind of violent flirtation game.

-They stare at each other for a couple moments, not a word uttered between them. Breathing softly, gauging the other’s reactions and movements. And then, in a split second, Viktor’s hands are on her. Brazenly linking his fingers behind her neck, pulling her closer to mesh their lips together.

CHAPTER TWO (THE PORN CHAPTER)

-It’s hardly even a kiss. Their mouths are open, teeth clicking once or twice, allowing the obscene sensation of tongues sliding together, breath mingling. The Reader gives in immediately, clutching hard at the loose fabric of his open shirt, pulling blindly at it until more buttons pop open.

-She’s positively feverish now, though Viktor hardly seems cool against her, meaning they share a temperature.

-Their lips part for the briefest moment, so Viktor can untuck The Readers shirt and start on the remainder of the clasps. The Reader quickly busies herself with other activities, namely in the form of sucking a dark bruise onto the perfect column of Viktor’s throat.

-A groan rumbles forth, and his hands still for a moment.

-Before he collects himself a little, and continues with his task. Both of them pulling at each other’s clothing, shamelessly groping the flesh and fat hidden beneath.

-All the dizziness from before has changed, morphed into fluttering pulses that travel down every nerve, lit up by each desperate touch, coalescing lower. She still feels elated, high even, especially by the fact that Viktor is actually here with her.

-But rationality is screaming in the back of her mind, beneath all the desperation and desire. Her anxiety, her fear, growing louder and louder. Viktor’s fingers, reaching for the clasp of her bra.

R: Wait.

-He stills immediately, though she can feel the tremble of his body against her own. He peers up at her, pleading, desperate, searching. Waiting.

R: If - if this stuff is acting like an…aphrodisiac…then you’re under its effects.

-Upon hearing her words, he scoffs quietly, and continues with his previous ministrations. Unhooking the clasp with concerning ease.

R: Viktor-

V: If I am under some kind of spell, then certainly you are, too. And yet you only worry about my state of mind?

-The Reader backs away slightly, shame and embarrassment crawling up the back of her throat. Even as she helps him shrug her garments off.

R: It’s different.

-Viktor seems perturbed, pausing again.

V: Why? We both inhaled the smoke. We’re both-

R: It’s just different, okay?

V: Why?

-She’s surprised by the sudden ferocity with which he grips her jaw, nearly forcing her to look at him. The shame bubbles over, and her eyes fill with tears, knowing that he’ll reject her. Knowing he doesn’t feel the same way. That he might even consider it all a hindrance.

R: Because I don’t need a stupid drug to feel like this about you! I don’t need it to want this! And you-

-She sighs sharply, hiding a sniffle, and moves to get off his lap while she avoids eye contact.

R: We shouldn’t be doing this. If you were in your right mind, you wouldn’t want this-

-She’s once again shocked by how hard he grips her, dextrous hands finding firm purchase on the fat on her hips. Pulling her back down towards him, down harder, grinding her clothed core against him, where he’s obviously hard for her.

V: You think that this-

-He rolls his hips into her

V: Is because of a drug?

-He walks his hands up her sides, until he’s able to squeeze at her breasts, kneading her tenderly and flicking his thumbs over her sensitive buds.

V: You think I don’t struggle to remain professional, every time you’re around? The way your pants hug your thighs? The angelic sound of your voice? The scent of your perfume when you lean over my shoulder to watch me work?

-The Reader whines quietly, warmth rising to her cheeks. He catches one of her nipples between his finger and thumb, rolling it around, plucking, squeezing.

V: You think that I don’t take myself in hand the moment I’m alone. Finding my release with your name on my tongue?

-He pinches hard, until she squeals and squirms, and he has mercy. At least until moving to the other side.

V: You think I wouldn’t readily bend you over and greedily take whichever hole you’d let me have? Your mouth? Your perfect cunt? Fuck, your ass would squeeze so tight around me.

-The Reader lets out a shaky, desperate noise, her underwear fully soaked through. Viktor leans forward and wraps his lips around one bud, wetting it with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth. The Reader tentatively knits her fingers into his hair, gently stroking the soft, fluffy strands.

R: How was I supposed to know you wanted that? I’ve thought for years that you were only tolerating me - that you were too nice to tell me to fuck off-

-He pulls off of her with a wet pop, almost looking angry.

V: You’re the brightest part of my life. Your kindness. Your humour. Your creativity and ingenuity.

-He leans forward to press an open mouthed kiss to the trembling column of her throat. Nipping slightly.

V: I’ll fuck you until you believe me - and whenever you want after that. I’ll fill your tight little cunt up-

-The Reader warbles at the promise, grinding down against his thigh, desperate for friction of any kind.

V: Or your ass - you’d look so perfect, split open on my cock, with my come dripping out of you.

-The Reader has no idea where the utter filth is coming from, but she’s not complaining.

V: I’ll bring you pleasure; again and again and again, until you soak the sheets - or the floor, the carpet, I don’t care where we are.

-He’s only speaking to her, close to her ear. She’s only grinding against his thigh. And yet she’s so close to coming. Trembling and shaking, whining, gripping his shoulder for balance.

R: I- I’ve never…

V: Never what, milý?

R: Never…n…

-She’s wholeheartedly embarrassed to admit her thoughts. However, he needs to know what he’s working with, needs to know about her inexperience and worries.

R: I’ve never done any of that. I’ve…never even had sex.

-It makes him pause for a moment, his movements faltering, but not for long. Not until he returns with full force, doubling his efforts, squeezing her hips as he helps her grind down against him.

V: You’d let me be your first?

-The Reader huffs a laugh.

R: You’d be my only, if I had my way.

-He groans quietly, and coaxes her up off his lap so she’s standing in front of him. So he can fiddle with the buttons on her trousers, popping them open before sliding them down her legs, along with her ruined panties.

-He watches with rapt attention as a gooey string stretches between the soaked fabric and her pussy. Until he’s unable to help himself, and leans forward to shove his tongue between her folds.

-The Reader cries out the moment he makes contact, swiping over delicate skin a few times, before zeroing in on her swollen, puffy clit. He holds her close by the hips, not allowing her to escape his unrelenting feast.

-She’s just about to come, embarrassingly fast, when he suddenly pulls away and stares up at her with the most fucked out expression. His lips slick with her essence.

V: You’ve really never…? None of it? 

-The Reader shakes her head.

V: Not even on your own?

-The Reader shakes her head again

V: You’ve never pressed a couple fingers into your ass? 

-She shakes her head a third time, growing more flustered.

V: Or come so hard you squirted all over your hand? Not even-

-The Reader feels like she’s about to combust at the mere suggestion of such things. Of course she’s been curious in the past, she’s just been slightly intimidated, not knowing where to start.

R: I could never figure it out! It’s not like I’ve had any kind of reliable source on how to do it! Besides… I’ve…

-She grows shy

R: I’ve heard a lots of guys say they think that kind of thing is gross, and messy-

-He brings his mouth to her again, keeping eye contact, once again working her up to the edge before pulling away completely.

V: Sex is messy, milý. No matter how you go about it - it’s sweaty and sticky, and someone is always slippery.

-The Reader snorts a laugh, some of her tension dissipating when he smiles up at her, warm and entranced.

V: That’s part of what makes it pleasurable. Getting to reduce your partner to such a state - it’s vulnerable, it’s trusting. Even when there aren’t feelings involved, it’s fun.

-The Reader hums a little bit, some of her insecurity rising up again. She tries to hide it, but Viktor knows her well, and takes note of it immediately. Laying a kiss to the soft of her tummy, staring patiently up at her.

V: You’re thinking too hard again. What’s bothering you?

-The Reader chews the inside of her cheek. Contemplating.

R: You just…seem to know a lot about this kind of thing. I feel kind of inadequate.

-She sighs.

R: It’s stupid, I know-

-He pulls her back down into his lap, not seeming to care that she’s soaking his trousers. Encircling his arms around her waist, he brings her into a sweet kiss, tender and gentle.

V: I will not lie to you: I’ve been with…several people. Intoxicated one-night stands, hook-ups with a couple of my old classmates from when I first started at the academy.

-He kisses her again.

V: Trysts that were most certainly entertaining. But…not particularly meaningful.

-He holds her close, letting his head come to rest in the crook of her neck, his hair and breath tickling her skin.

V: If this isn’t something you’re ready for, we can stop. We can go back to our rooms for the night, or you can come over and we can talk.

-He kisses her collarbone.

V: Even if sex is something you never want, that’s okay. I just…I want you. Whatever you’re willing to give me. I’ll happily take it.

-The Reader’s eyes nearly well up with tears again, this time from sentimental emotion, and the genuine love she has for Viktor.

-She cups his jaw, and tilts his face towards her.

R: You say all this like you weren’t just about to make me come.

-They stare at each other for half a moment, before they start giggling and snickering, dispelling nearly all of the tension that had accumulated. Filling both of them with a distinct fondness for one another, and their situation.

R: I want you, Viktor. Tonight, and every night after this - I want everything with you. Sex, romance, that dorky couples’ shit.

-They smile at each other again, but it’s significantly softer this time, warm and affectionate and full of love. Their next kiss is gentle and sweet, explorative and more thorough.

-But it’s not long before their minds start getting addled again, and their touches become harder, hands wandering and grabbing. The Reader tries grinding down against Viktor again, but unlike before, he now holds her in place.

-She’s puzzled for a moment, pulling back to ask him what he’s doing, but she doesn’t get the chance. He dips a hand between her legs and strokes a finger through her folds, still dripping for him. His finger catches on her clit, and she lets out an involuntary gasp.

-His lips find her neck, leaving a slew of wet kisses over every area he can reach, while he slowly slides a finger into her. It’s not much of a touch, and she knows she can fit more, but every sensation seems to be amplified under the effects of the mysterious gas. 

-He pumps tentatively into her, mostly just feeling how she clenches around him, getting used to how hot she is, and how slick. After a moment he adds a second digit, and that’s when he really starts trying to bring her pleasure.

-Crooking his fingers within her to nudge up against her sweet spot, as well as spreading them apart to help stretch her open and prepare her for what’s to come. Marvelling at the obscene sounds emanating from her, the delicious squelch of her cunt and the breathless little moans falling past her lips.

-She wants to roll her hips down on his fingers, to try and coax him deeper, but he keeps his other hand tight on her hip, making sure she stays still despite the fact that she’s trembling with effort. She keens when he picks up speed, slowly beginning to build up her orgasm again.

R: Viktor…

-She’s bordering on whiny, but neither of them really mind. Instead, he lays a kiss in between her breasts, and then peeks up at her with mischief.

V: Do you think you could take another one?

-It takes her a moment to figure out what he’s talking about, but once it clicks, she hastily nods, on the verge of begging him for it. Thankfully, he’s merciful, and wastes no time slipping a third finger into her.

-She definitely feels the stretch this time, whimpering softly when he starts spreading all three digits open, stretching her further than she’s ever gone on her own. It burns so good, but it’s nothing compared to when he curls them inside her.

-The stretch, coupled with the relentless press against her g-spot and the grind of his palm against her slick clit, is enough to send her over the edge. It’s sudden and almost startling, washing over her like a wave and sending warmth rolling down every nerve. 

-She’s not really aware of what kinds of sounds she’s making, or what she looks like, far too focused on the feelings echoing through her body, everything made stronger by the drug.

-Until she slouches forward, breathless and boneless against Viktor. He wraps his arms around her, holding her tightly while she tries to regain her composure, though she can feel him smirking into the skin of her shoulder.

R: Mmn…

-He chuckles airily

V: Surely it wasn’t so good that you’ve lost consciousness?

-His tone is playful and joking, but The Reader wonders if there’s not some vague insecurity hidden beneath it. She stirs a little bit, drawing back from him so she can plant a kiss on his cheek, and his other cheek, and every feature of his face until she gets to his lips.

R: It’s good. Because it’s you, it’s good.

-She reassures him, before drawing him into yet another kiss. They stay like that for a little while, and though The Reader’s head has cleared slightly, Viktor’s surely hasn’t. 

-His skin is still hot to the touch, and his hands tremor slightly when he touches her. She can tell that he’s trying to follow her lead, to not press for more if she’s not the one asking for it, and while she’s grateful he’s being patient and respectful, she wants him to feel good too.

R: You’re allowed to touch me, you know?

-Her tone is gentle and quiet, but Viktor looks puzzled. She stoops down and lays a kiss just beneath his jaw.

R: I can tell that you’re holding yourself back. But you can touch me - however you want, wherever you want.

V: You have no idea what I want. I don’t want to pressure you into things you’re not ready for-

-The Reader sets her forehead against his, looking him in the eye. Her tone is firm.

R: I meant it, when I said I want everything with you. If you think I don’t know something, then tell me. Tell me what you want, tell me all the things you’ve thought about doing with me - doing to me. Trust me to speak up if I don’t like something.

-He groans, a low sound rumbling from his chest, and in an instant, her weight is thrown sideways onto the couch. It’s lumpy and a little uncomfortable, but she doesn’t care, not with the way that Viktor takes up space above her.

-Her legs, held open by his slender hips, the perfect position for him to shove his pants down to the middle of his thighs and free his cock. Thick and heavy, flushed the prettiest shade of red at the tip. He gives himself a couple strokes, and then lets it lay against the slick flesh of her pussy.

V: There isn’t enough time in one night to tell you all the things I want to do to you.

-He rolls his hips a little bit, his cock gliding effortlessly through her folds, sliding against her clit.

V: Every night, there’s a new thought in my mind, a new vision of you. Bent over my desk, crying out for more even though your ass is already split open on my cock. Or helplessly restrained, your legs held wide so I can bring you pleasure again, and again, and again - no matter how much you squirm.

-The Reader clenches around nothing, the ideas turning her on more than she ever expected they would. Filthy thoughts, but strikingly delicious, considering she’s the main focus of them.

-He presses the blunt head of his cock against her hole, but doesn’t quite push inside.

V: I’ve thought about keeping you under my desk during the day, looking all pretty with your mouth full of my cock. Or slipping my hand beneath those short little skirts you like to wear, working you up to the edge but never letting you come.

-The Reader wiggles a little bit, trying to encourage him to slide into her.

V: I’ve also wondered what you’d look like if both your holes were stuffed. I…am not particularly keen on sharing, though.

-The Reader whines.

R: You could make a replica, if you- if you wanted to.

-He seems to genuinely ponder it for a moment, his mind trailing away to how he might go about doing such a thing, especially in secret, since it would be hard to explain. The Reader whines again.

R: Viktor..

-His attention snaps back to her, and she stares up at him.

R: Fuck me.

-He looks like he wants to tease her more, to tell her more about his imagination, but his patience has apparently run out. He grips his cock and slides the head through her folds a couple times again, gathering some of her wetness to make everything go smoother.

-The pressure against her is dull, but it doesn’t take much for her to open up. His cock slowly stretching her open, more than his fingers had prepared her for - it burns, but in the best way possible, making her feel fuller than she’s ever been, than she ever imagined she would.

-She whimpers quietly, and Viktor pauses, looking to her face to gauge her reaction. But once he sees that she’s not in pain, he continues. Deeper and deeper into her, filling her until she can nearly feel it in her throat. He seems to be going on forever.

-Until finally, his hips meet the backs of her thighs, and his movements still. The Reader cracks her eyes open, only to groan slightly at the sight of Viktor in front of her. His hair mussed and in disarray, his grip tight behind the backs of her knees, holding her open.

-His expression, wholly and entirely fucked out, debauched and without a single care. He stares shamelessly down at her, leering over every inch of her body, particularly at where they’re now joined.

-He reaches down to stroke the pad of his thumb over her puffy clit, startling her slightly, and making her jolt. But he’s quick to hold her down, keeping her still with one hand while he continuously flicks and abuses her bud.

-Feeling the way she clenches around him, the way her breath catches in her throat, half-releasing broken cries and sobs of pleasure. As if he truly enjoys torturing her in the most delicious way possible.

-He relents after a couple moments, allowing her a brief respite to calm down. But not for long. It doesn’t take long for him to start fucking her in earnest, pulling out almost all the way before quickly sliding back home.

-He pulls a startled cry from her when he first fucks into her, and a pitiful wail when he finds a relentless pace. Hard and fast, keeping her legs held open and her body nearly bent in half, plunging as deep as he possibly can. Again and again.

-The Reader can barely breathe, the breath punched out of her with each thrust. Her entire body is trembling, every nerve alight with bliss. She grips blindly at Viktor’s forearms, only to ground herself, rather than trying to push him away. Her nails digging into his skin, only seeming to spur him on.

-And then, all at once, her world is turning again. Viktor releases her and quickly helps her flip over, onto her knees and elbows with her ass raised in the air.

-And then he’s back inside her, resuming his pace. The new angle makes The Reader squeak pathetically, as he repeatedly slides over her sweet spot. The obscene noise of wet skin slapping echoing throughout the lab.

-She knows that she’s dripping onto the couch beneath her, but she can’t find it in herself to be embarrassed about it, or even really care. All she wants is to feel good, by Viktor’s hand, and watch as he loses himself to the pleasure as well.

-She slips an arm beneath herself, hoping to get some friction on her clit, desperate for her own release again. But a hand colliding hard with her ass cheek startles her out of it, stinging hot enough to make her gasp.

V: Keep your hands by your head, milý. You’ll come when I say you can come.

-She whines softly.

R: But-

-Another harsh smack. She’s embarrassed by how tightly the action makes her clench, and by the fact that Viktor notices.

-His pace never falters, even as he lays the palm of his hand hard against her again. And again. And again.

V: You’re so sweet during the day.

-A smack

V: So compassionate, and gentle.

-A smack

V: But you’re really a slut, aren’t you?

-Another smack, and The Reader whines.

V: Doing exactly what I tell you to, letting me stuff you full over and over again. Squeezing around me so perfectly.

-He massages the now-tender meat of her ass, soothing the sharp bite of his hand.

-Even without a single touch on her clit, The Reader isn’t sure how long she’s going to last. She feels like she’s about to burst, like she’s never felt before. Nothing like the orgasms she’s had on her own.

-She barely even notices the wet pop behind her, too dazed to take note of much else. But she definitely tenses slightly when something wet glides against her asshole. Persistent and warm, soaking the velvety flesh.

-She whimpers when it breaches the ring of muscle, slowly, sliding into her where she’s never been touched. It’s the strangest sensation, though not a bad one. It sends little goosebumps all over her body. And it takes a moment, but eventually she realizes it’s Viktor’s thumb, spreading her open.

V: I’d love to have you here…

-His words are punctuated with the movement of his digit, allowing it to slide in and out of her in time with his thrusts.

V: But not tonight. 

-He leans down and presses a kiss in between her shoulder blades, his movements slowing down for a moment, and The Reader whines at the loss.

V: Not enough patience, right now.

-He straightens up again, and resumes fucking her, with a renewed vigor. Removing his thumb from her, watching as she squeezes around nothing. Gripping her hips to pull her back to him.

-The Reader is nearly boneless with the onslaught of pleasure, and it’s all she can do just to breathe properly, allowing him to do whatever he pleases to her, enjoying every moment of it.

-Then, the grip on her hips tightens by a fraction, and Viktor’s pace begins to grow sloppy and uneven. She knows that he’s close, and, willing to risk his ire, she tentatively slips her arm beneath herself again, in an attempt to rub her clit.

-He notices.

V: You just can’t help yourself, can you?

-He’s breathless and rough. But he doesn’t try to dissuade her this time.

V: Come for me, then. Fuck - let me feel you-

-All it takes is a couple swipes of her fingers, and her entire mind goes blank. The outside world fades out of focus, and all she can feel is the blinding pleasure of her orgasm, more intense than she’s ever experienced. Knowing Viktor is the one who’s made her feel like this. Finally.

-His thrusts falter for a second, growing quicker for the briefest moment, before he pushes in as deep as he can, and stills. Nails digging into the fat of The Reader’s hips, a debauched, broken cry falling past his lips, while he curls inwards, his forehead coming to rest against her back. Hair tickling her skin.

-Both of them stay there for what seems like forever, trembling and catching their breath, letting their orgasms run their course and gradually dissipate. Letting the world fade back in, and their minds clear.

-Slowly, tenderly, Viktor wraps his arms around her waist, carefully pulling her up into a sitting position, and then coaxing her backwards. The two of them now reclining somewhat comfortably against the arm of the couch, with her back on his chest.

-He lays kiss after kiss on her exposed shoulders and neck, on any piece of skin his lips can reach. Stroking his hands over her abdomen and sides. Neither of them say anything for a little while, not having the mind yet to form words. Not even having the wherewithal to pull out of her.

-After a couple minutes of gentle touches and affection, though, they’re finally able to speak.

V: It…wasn’t too much, was it?

-The Reader hums

V: If it was too much, you need to tell me - I won’t go so far next time-

-A grin stretches across The Reader’s face, and she turns slightly towards him.

R: Next time?

-He presses a kiss to her cheek.

V: Of course ‘next time’. I told you earlier, yes? I want you. All of you, for as long as you’ll have me.

-The Reader’s heart swells with warmth, filling with love and affection. She squirms around in his grasp so she can lay more comfortably over his chest. Both of them wince when he finally slides out of her, and his spend dribbles after.

R: We have so much cleaning to do.

-Viktor presses a kiss to her hair, and then to her lips.