#x afab!reader

Mahito was good at a lot of different things. He was a good listener who asked active questions, he was a keen fighter quick to action, he was good for a laugh and to do just about anything to make you smile, and he was amazing at following orders. 

He was just not good at giving head. 

Mahito was a kid in a candy shop with an unlimited budget when it came to eating you out. He was all over the place, trying so many things to see what he liked without once attempting to find rhyme or rhythm. He would lick and suck at your body in places that were uncomfortable, latching to your outer walls and swiping along your crotch, instead of giving your clit or slit attention. And when he finally did give it attention, you were already too worked up and frustrated to enjoy any action he gave you. 

“Mahito,” you growled at him, prompting him to pop his head back up from between your legs and tilt his head expectantly to the side. You let out a disgruntled sigh while his hands gripped at your thighs and rubbed soothing circles into your skin. “You’re doing that thing again.” 

“What thing?” he cooed sweetly at you, “I thought I was doing good! I had my tongue out, I didn’t make it into a snake like I did the first time!” You cringed at the memory and allowed the shudder to coast up your spine while you glared at him, “I didn’t do that quick rubbing back and forth thing over and over again! I’m doing my best, scouts’ honor!” 

“You’ve never been a ‘scout’, honey,” you chuckled down at him. Moving to lean up on your elbows, you fully drag your core away from him and reach down to cup his face, “I didn’t want it to come to this, but I don’t think you’ve given me any other-.”

“-Don’t ask someone else to do it!” He was quick to raise his hands defensively and shake them in front of you, “I’m still learning. I can do it, I swear. I swear…” His hands made a grabby motion to move towards you, prompting you to sigh and swat them back. Despite your disgruntled expression, you couldn’t fight the crawling smile to find its way onto your lips at his mild panic. 

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” you moved from your recline to fully sit up and cup his cheek in your hand, “What I was suggesting was you change from… that…” you nod your head towards his crotch, “...And into something like mine, purely so I can teach you what it feels like when you do what you’re doing, and what it feels like when you do it right.”

The cursed spirit pouted and leaned his head into your hand while avoiding your eyes. He remained silent until the spark of enthusiasm returned to him. He was quick to move up and straddle your waist, pressing his clothed crotch down on your bare belly. 

“You think I can make a really pretty one?” he asked sweetly, “Are we gonna watch porn together to see what kind of pussy would look good on me? What if I make it really hairy? Like a big bush?! And maybe have the inner walls come out and have a massive clit, and maybe make it like a venus fly-trap that like chomps back, or maybe it’s got teeth on the outside and could-.”

“-Mahito!” you laughed at him and reached for his black shirt and slowly peeled it off his creamy torso, thumbing over his stitching until the cloth fled his head, “If you like it, we can try that later. For now, you’re going to grow one relatively easy for me to show you how to eat me out properly. Okay?” 

Mahito hummed down at you and drew his hands up to cup yours on his shoulders. He gently thumbed over your knuckles before turning his head to kiss at your fingers, shuddering as you slowly dragged your blunt fingernails down his chest and pinched at his nipples. He bore his hips down against your body before he swung his leg over yours to dismount from your lap and reach for your laptop by your bed.

“I want to get a really pretty one, though,” he commented firmly, waving his finger at you, “Just to start off with. Okay?” 

“Sounds good to me,” you shrugged in response. 

After spending a little time online, Mahito decided to push the laptop to the side and study your own, tilting his head to the side while he willed his body to grow his own at the expense of his cock. It was not too long until he and you were sat on your sides with him thumbing apart your walls to then grow his own vagina. He shuddered as the air hit him, his legs butterflied out to the side while he experienced it in all its glory. 

“Ew! Why is it so slippery already!?” he laughed nervously while his fingers slowly rubbed along his inner walls, “Hah! I think I could cum if I do this enough. Wait, what’s- ahh-!” His face flushed a violent red as soon as his fingers brushed against his clit, prompting you to immediately grip his wrists and push him back with all your weight until he was on his back and looking up at you with shock.

“Now stay just like that,” you commanded him while shouldering his legs open, “That’s my good boy-... Hang on, do you want me to call you that right now, or would you prefer ‘pretty girl’?” Mahito’s eyes went from mildly concerned and aroused to deep in thought. He pondered for a moment before his lips broadened in a grin.

“No, I’m still a boy,” he beamed at you, “And I’m still yours.” He batted his lengthy, blue eyelashes innocently down at you while he spread his thighs to enable you better access into his sweet centre. He led you by his hands into his body while smiling as sweetly and innocently as he could.  

Narrowing your eyes and pursing your lips at him, you gave him a gentle kiss on his thigh and bullied your way back against his core by hooking his legs over your shoulders and pressing them back against his belly. Now revealed to you, you examined his cunt and hummed in approval while watching his arousal begin to seep from his slit out and down towards his puckered hole.

“Wow, you are actually really into this, aren’t you?” you commented while thumbing open his walls. Mahito whined and reached down to swat at you before you leaned down and latched immediately against his clit. You flattened your tongue and swirled over his pert nub, ensuring the hood was elevated by both of your thumbs at the top of his cunt to give him the maximum pressure he could experience. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck-!” he cried. His back bowed and hands immediately shifted to your head to hold you against him. His clit throbbed in your mouth while arousal hit your chin and left a glossy sheen of his ecstasy against your skin. He was close already, his body nearing that end by the pitch in his whine...

…Prompting you to immediately unlatch from his clit and attach your lips to his outer wall. 

Mahito let out a sound somewhere between a roar in rage and a braying whine while he immediately moved to sit. He pushed your body away from him and peered down at you with venomous rage in his eyes. You could not bite back the fiendish giggle that bubbled in your throat the longer he stared at you with anger in his dual-colored lenses. 

“Oh, so you think this is funny?” he growled while his pout continued to overtake his face, “I was going to cum! And you just-.... You just-... You…” his eyes moved from their scowl to then immediately widen at you with a deep understanding of empathy. There was a sheepishness to his expression, prompting you to find your own little victory on your face the longer he processed it. 

“You get it now?” 

“Yes, I get it now.” 

“You want me to make you cum now, pretty boy?” you bat your eyes at him and reached up to cup his right cheek, thumbing over the meeting place between his horizontal and vertical scar. “Learned your lesson, honey?” You leaned up and gently placed a soft kiss against his lips before deepening it. Mahito moved his hands to wrap firmly around your middle and hold you against himself, moving his lips easily against your own to cast that perfect mold over them in a way only he could. 

Pulling away from the kiss, Mahito’s eyes welled a little at the water line, his unhinged charm disappearing and replaced with a wonder and anticipation the longer he gazed at you. You took that as an affirmation, prompting you to go between his legs and truly take into account the cunt he grew for you to enjoy. You cooed gently at it, looking at the small patch of blue hair and how his pearly clit stood out from between his pretty, pink walls still gushing with arousal. 

“Okay, baby,” you smile down at him, “We’re going to teach you some things, okay? Starting with this.” You moved your hand against his pussy, parting his folds to give you better access to his clit. With one hand keeping his body open, the other moved your index finger against his clit, focussing on small circles before switching to an up and down motion. Mahito’s breath came out in gentle pants, watching eagerly while you easily coached pleasure out of him with just a small motion. 

Mahito tried to fight the small moans coming from his throat, attempting to remove the way his face began to contort in pleasure the longer you played with him - all which only served to have you focus on the same motions over and over again. His whines began to become more apparent to the point that he couldn’t give you a second of warning before his walls began to contract around nothing, clit stiffening while his legs shook in time with every wave of his orgasm. 

The cursed spirit brayed and bleated with every small wave of a very gentle climax, his clit the only thing being stimulated by a single finger. Mahito reached down to grab your wrist to stop your motion from the oversensitivity, causing you to chuckle at him. He flopped back onto the mattress and covered his face in the remaining hand while the one against your wrist relaxed as soon as you withdrew your index finger from his clit. 

“What have we learned?” you hummed up at him from between his legs. Mahito groaned at you and muffled his answer from behind his fingers, prompting you to nip harshly at his inner thigh. He gasped and shot you an accusatory look while you continued to beam up at him. 

“Same movement. Long period of time. No alteration to the motion,” he snarled at you with his nose scrunched. You felt your belly coil at his sweet expression, prompting you to smirk at him in response and return to your place between his legs. Panic moved in his eyes while your hands slowly returned to his pussy. “N-No, wait! What are you doing?” He moved his body back, causing you to wrap your forearms around his thighs to drag him back into yourself.

“Teaching you the next thing about having a pussy, Mahito,” you nodded up at him, “Multiple orgasms.”

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no,” Mahito panicked, which only promoted your mocking: “Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” in response to him. He tried to move his hands to shove you away, only stopping when your index finger moved down to his slit and slowly pressed into his core. He bleated out at the foreign sensation while you continued to work him open. It was only when you pressed down until the third knuckle, your finger completely sheathed in him that he began to relax into you and examined the sensation.

“Is this what it’s like for you when I put my cock in?” he pondered while peering down at you between his legs, “Like, this weird tickly thing that- oh, what’s that?!” You pressed against the spongy underside of his clit and focussed your grinding pressure on the pad of your index finger against it.

“That, baby,” you retracted your finger completely down to the tip of your finger before pressing your middle finger beside it, “Is your g-spot. It’s where some people can have a different type of orgasm. Lots of people can’t, but I thought there wasn’t any harm in trying with you. Can I add another finger?” 

“Please,” Mahito asked sweetly, “But be gentle, it’s my first time with one of these.” He gestured down at his pussy, where you’ve settled in comfortably, “I don’t want it to hurt. I saw… I saw that it hurts when you get- Oh, fuuuuck-!” You added the second finger down to the hilt, watching as he completely flopped back into the mattress and fluttered his eyes close shut in bliss.

“It only hurts if you’re not wet enough, and you’re not completely relaxed,” you nod down at his body while slipping your fingers in and out of him, “And baby, between you and me, you’re completely coating my palm right now. We’re in no short supply of any arousal. Also,” you moved your thumb up to pinch at the thin barrier between his clit and his g-spot, moving in tandem with your single hand to bring him pleasure, “You’re so close to cumming again.” 

“I am,” he gasped softly. His eyebrows triangulated up in the center as his lips parted in a perfect circle, “I-It’s like-! I-I-I can’t help it!” 

“Cum for me, pretty boy,” you cooed up at him, “Let go for me. I want you to cum for me so you know how good it feels. Come on, Mahito. Don’t you want to make me proud?” Mahito cried. His body sobbing with him while he gushed out more of his sweet, syruppy arousal into your hand. His cunt sucked greedily on your fingers with every thrumming contraction while he cast aside his inhibitions to reduce his sweet moans. Your own cunt clenched while yelling for attention, forcing you to lose yourself in helping him lose himself. 

Retracting your fingers completely, you moved your thumb up to his clitoral hood and immediately lunged for his clit while he was too distracted to pull you away. He yelped and sobbed, moving his hands to your head and attempted to weakly swat you away while you were relentless in sprinting him from one climax to the next. 

“W-W-W-WAIT-!” Mahito screamed while his back bowed away from the bed, “No, I-I’m gonna-! Mmnnmnhghh-! I’m gonna cum again! Wait-!” Mahito grabbed the back of your head and grappled you against his cunt, all while howling your name as if he was summoning you with a chant to a faith starring you as his deity. “Cumming,” he whimpered pathetically, “M’cumming-!” 

You muffled your own pleasure at the sight while staring up at him through sex-drunk eyes and watching as his chest heaved in time with the thrum of his cunt. He began to sob as thick, wet tears that then coasted down his cheeks and dampen the pillow beneath his head. Sweat beaded at his temples while his lengthy hair stuck to his skin. He resigned himself to his fate as you continued to suck and roll your tongue against his cunt to shepherd one climax into the next. 

Both of you had forgotten why he did this to begin with somewhere between the fifth and sixth time you’d drawn out of him on your hands, lips, and tongue. Mahito was completely lost to the sensation and beyond wrung out by the time he had his legs interwoven with your own. Chest to chest, cunt to cunt, Mahito lazily rolled his hips against yours to grind against you. Both your arousals stuck together in a messy kiss while you met that friction to bring together your joint highs. 

“S-S-So like this,” Mahito uttered with his breath catching in his throat, “J-Just with a rh-rhythm like-! I’m gonna cum again. I’m gonna cum again. I-I th-think I’m gonna die with this o-one!” his whimpering sob had your hands immediately gripping his ass to drag him to and fro as your own impending orgasm knit itself in your belly and began to tighten. Your clits caught against one another, just as your lips met in a messy, passionate oscillation of tongues and teeth. Your pussies caught against one another while you both met your highs. 

Light split in your vision while Mahito screamed against your lips, his body going rigid in your arms before completely going limp and allowing you to drag him against your body to drag out your high. The weight of his body crushing your torso had you feeling trapped, bringing out a lengthier rise in you until your breath returned back to its regular rapidity. You reached up and stroked Mahito’s hair while you felt his pelvis shift into his regular cock, lying limply between your legs and as asleep as he was. 

“You did so good, baby,” you praised him while his gentle snores huffed against your cheek and jaw. You pressed your lips against his temple and slowly moved him over to his side. His lashes were completely fluttered shut, out like a candle blown by the wind. He looked at peace and sleeping soundly beside you. Reaching down for the blankets, you moved them over your bodies and gave him a final kiss while settling in beside him. 

You couldn’t remember falling asleep, but you never forgot the rest you found in his arms while ignoring the world continuing to busy itself around you. Just you and your Mahito, syncing in breaths and climaxes until you finally found the peace you both deserved. 

Although usually having steady hands while handling his powders, Usopp the sharpshooter found his fingers shuddering and shaking while attempting to push the ground petals into the rubber spheres. His latex gloves were long gone, the self-proclaimed warrior of the seas tearing them off while the powders elected to stick to the rubbery material as opposed to the funnel. This enabled him to force more of the honey-colored powder into the ball, but the cost appeared to be the steadiness of his hands. 

“Get it together, Usopp,” he growled at himself as sweat beaded his brow, “You’re better than this. It’s just a little powder. Urgh, why is it so hot in here?” He shook his head to rid the heat from baring down in his field of vision, clouding his eyes with a mist of dewy gloss that felt like the hot sting of fresh tears. 

As the last of the powder was pressed into the sphere, Usopp exhaled deeply before taking in a sharp breath and pressing a hot, metal rod into the ball to seal it shut. As the ball closed, Usopp finally let that sneeze he was holding in out and into the crook of his elbow, followed by another, and another to follow. His glossy eyes clouded further while he parted his lips and groaned out in displeasure at the sensation.

“It’s so damn hot in here,” he commented again as a small trickle of sweat cascaded down from his clavicle to his belly. He rose to stand away from his workbench and removed his vest and belt-sash from his form and thrown over the back of his work chair. “Damn, are we close to the grand line, or what? Maybe I should go… I should… I should go and…” Usopp’s brow furrowed as he peered down at his bare chest, eyes following the contour of his abdomen and fixating on the large tent in his pants. 

Shock consumed him. He sucked in a thick gasp of breath as he brought his palm down to the clothed erection concealed from his gaze. As soon as the pressure ground itself into his cock, Usopp almost screamed. His body responded against his will, rutting into his hand while precum decorated his briefs beneath the material of his pants. He felt the material stick to his body and cool on his flesh, spreading like wildfire down his thighs and dripping onto his kneecaps. 

“What is going on?!” he screamed out a shocked whisper at himself, quickly ridding himself of his pants and gawking at his body in accusation at the way it betrayed him, “Wh-what are…? What are you doing?” He cried down at his briefs coated in a pearlescent display of creamy precum beading through the surface of his pants. “Urghhgmmn, why is this up? I wasn’t even thinking about-! I didn’t even-! I wasn’t-!” He passed his hand over his clothed tip, groaning out a thick whimper as he squirmed at the contact, “Okay, not-! Not h-here!” 

Usopp’s hand moved against his better judgment. He caught his cock in his hands and began pumping it into the material. The precum continued to leak through every woven strand of fabric and paint his hand in the dewy viscosity every time he pumped his cock with it. He drew his other hand down to grip the desk, his knuckles coated with the same honey-tinted dust as those spherical pellets he loaded it into while his hips staggered into his hand. 

As the high began to take him, it ebbed away from the surface and slipped from its frantic reach. Usopp’s knuckles began to pale in his firm grip against the desk. His lips flew agape as strands of saliva connected his upper and lower lip, brow furrowing as he continued to fuck his hand with a manic rock of his hips.

“H-!” he attempted to cry for help, only to bring up the hand connected to the desk to his lips to silence it. Who would he cry out help to? Who of his crew would ever help him in this particular situation? His mind ran rampant with many jumbled thoughts while his ecstasy was dangling like a carrot on a string outside of his reach. He continued to sob into his hand while his cum exited his cock without the euphoria to follow. 

Usopp’s eyes rounded in a panic while his briefs soaked completely through at his crotch. He couldn’t bring himself to meet flesh to flesh, knowing how hot his body felt in this very moment. He had no choice but to continue pistoning his cock with his palm until he felt his orgasm ebb to it’s peak, only to remain there with an unsatisfactory pinch against every electrified nerve. 

Narrowing your eyes at the current assortment of unruly pirates meeting at the deck of the Thousand Sunny, you continued to seek out the man you had truly begun to admire from afar. Being a part of the straw hat grand fleet beneath your captain, Bartolomeo the Cannibal, you were a large fan of Monkey D Luffy and the rest of the Straw Hats as he was. His passion for following Luffy as king of the pirates was an admirable feat, and you decided to follow him yourself.

Although not truly allowed to have favourites, the sharpshooter made you laugh. Usopp was funny, and his tales of grandeur made a smile attach itself to your face more often than not. He was a fool, and you enjoyed that about him. Taking another pass with your eyes around the assortment gathered on the Thousand Sunny to speak with Luffy, you couldn’t find the one man you truly wanted to talk to. 

Stepping down from the rails on the top deck, you furrowed your brows and made your way towards the lower decks. He was not one to shy away from a crowd, and he had made it known that he was restocking his pellets with dusts and powders from the fight you had participated in all together. He would usually extend forward an invite to you, but this time he said he was working with an ingredient he hadn’t used before and wanted you to keep a distance to remain safe if it became unstable. You smiled at him then, but your smile was nowhere to be found as the minutes quickly ticked into hours with the sun setting over the horizon line. 

“Where you going, Barto-pirate?” the green-haired swordsman stopped you with the hit of his blade crossing your chest, “Only crew goes below deck.” You turned and brought your eyes up to Zoro, adjusting your posture as you did so. 

“I’m concerned about Usopp,” you admitted gently, “He said he was restocking his pellets, and as the Barto Club engineer, I thought I might be of use. You know, considering it’s been about three hours…” You drew your gaze down at your fingers, wringing them in front of you and picking at your fingernails, “...Because I’m good at… Making stuff, too, you know…” Sucking in your lower lip, you began to nervously chew on the inside of your cheek to hide the rising flush blooming in your face.

Zoro laughed with his whole belly, moving the swords away from your chest and moving to open the door for you, beaming at you as he did so. His expression was unfamiliar on his usually stoic demeanor, almost like the sun after a lifetime of cloud coverage. He waved you on below deck, chuckling to teeter off his large laugh.

“Look, Barto-Pirate. Just say you want to kiss him, okay? It’s fine,” he waved his hand in a flourishing gesture, bowing towards you, “You can’t fight that sheepish look on your face, nor can you stop that heat rising in your face. Just go and tell him, already. We’ve got bets placed, you know?” 

With that, the swordsman closed the door behind you and left you with your heart hammering in your chest with little relief to balm its rapidity. ‘Was it that noticeable?’ you asked yourself, placing your hand on the wall and steadying yourself while you stood. You took a moment to catch your breath and shake off the warmth rushing in your head before you continue on towards Usopp’s work station as you had done so many times before. 

Standing at the door, you rose your hand to knock, only to halt at the wooden frame as sounds echoed off every wall and beneath the doorframe. Crude squelching with Usopp’s voice pleading out soft whimpers with words you couldn’t quite catch until he growled out a cohesive sentence. 

“I need help in here, I-I-I’m gonna die!” 

Nothing could hold you back from immediately barging into the door, pushing past the threat of danger enforced on you by that sentence, only to have your eyes fall on Usopp’s form as he clutched his bench. In lieu of a series of spherical pellets he was working on, Usopp stood with his clothed cock clutched firmly in his hands with a large amount of cum soaking through the fabric. Your eyes flew wide as they met with Usopp’s own as you stood in shock, freeze being your first reaction to seeing the man you had come to admire furiously fisting his cock through the stretched and ruined fabric. 

“I-I-I-I-!” Usopp choked, stuttering as tears flooded down his face and dripped onto his chest, “I can’t stop! It’s-! I think it’s the powder!” he nodded his head to his desk, prompting your eyes to follow his gaze towards the honey-coloured powder. He sobbed while the crude squelching continued. 

It took more power than you cared to admit to keep your eyes averted away from Usopp while you made your way to the desk. You shrouded your nose and lips with the crook of your elbow while reaching for the hand-held, motorised vacuum cleaner he made many moons ago, switching it on and sucking up the powder to clean it. You focussed on your task, all while Usopp continued to stroke his cock close to you enough to have your heart skip a beat, but far enough away to try to make you as comfortable as he could. 

Once you had finished silently cleaning up the dust, you hastily reached for a large towel and covered the desk with the heaping cloth to contain it. As the material swooshed through the air and onto the wooden surface, you quickly turned back to the room and made quick work of shutting the door to his workspace with you inside it. Usopp began sobbing further, allowing you to scan the room for anything you might need to help him.

“Did you install a shower in this space after I was in here last?” you asked him while looking at the ceiling for any hidden latches, “I told you you need one, especially if you’re experimenting with chemicals. Did you-?”

“-I-I-It’s in the cupboard up high to your right,” he stuttered quickly, “I can’t-! I can’t stop! I can’t think! It’s not-... hhghhmmn-! It’s not good!” Usopp’s brows knit together while you continued to professionally take apart the cupboard and fish out the circular showerhead and triangular toggle. Your heart continued to race, pitying Usopp in whatever plight he was currently fighting while simultaneously feeling severe guilt about your desire to watch him. 

“Alright, Captain Usopp,” you turned to face him, “Let’s get you over to the shower as quickly as we can, okay?” you took a large step back to allow him room to move, “I can see some on your hands, your arms, your nose, and your-... your-...” you stumbled over your words clumsily before shaking it off, “There’s some on your briefs, but we can wash it off too. I just need you to come a bit closer, okay? You can do this, warrior of the sea.” 

Usopp’s cock twitched in his pants at every encouragement that fell from your lips. He tried so hard not to think about how much he had seen you in his dreams, had his mind wander to where you were and what you were doing, all the while feeling so guilty that he would think about you romantically in the silence of the night. Now here you were, watching him as he was in his most pathetic state: furiously pumping his cock while under some kind of aphrodisiac influence. He never wanted it to be like this, have this moment like this. He wanted to ask you out, and do it properly, but he would always shy away from the moment before he got to it. 

“Can you t-turn the water on?” Usopp asked you sweetly while he continued to cry softly, “I-... I can’t stop.” You felt your throat choke on an empathetic whine at this display of surrender and defeat. He deserved better than this, and you reminded him of such by giving him the decency to experience this human moment with another human.

“Usopp, I would wash you if you need me to,” you admit while elevating your hand to tug the triangle, “This is quite literally life and death. You need this, and I’m making it my personal task to take care of you.” As Usopp stepped under the circular head, you pulled the triangle and a large burst of water shuddered from the head. You placed the triangular toggle in a hook beside the chain, latching it so the water would continue to spurt out while you slowly stripped down to your underwear. 

“Wh-What-?!” Usopp stuttered while he attempted to remove his hand from his cock, only to immediately double back to continue pumping its length, “You’re serious? You’ll-? You’ll help me?” The look of surprise on his face was enough to push past any inhibitions and step beneath the cool water alongside him. You moved your hand to the cupboard beside you both and found an alcohol-based cleanser and lathered your hands up with it. 

“Of course I will. It might sting if you’ve got any open wounds, but I’ll be right here to coach you through it. Now, arms first. You just keep doing what you’re doing, and don’t mind me,” you rambled to fill the silence, much like Usopp did while sitting beside you many times while gazing at the stars. You made quick work of brushing the pollen residue off him and down the drain, ensuring the lather remained thick enough to not press any into your own skin, “You’re doing so well, Usopp. Just keep doing this, okay? I’m moving onto your chest and belly, okay?” 

Usopp couldn’t believe his eyes. The way you so diligently rid his body of the pollen was almost hypnotic. He recalled a tale you spoke moons ago about an accident that happened in your own engineering space, causing you to be set alight with a chemical fire and you only had yourself to fix it. He swore silently that he’d never let that happen to you again, and you both made promises to install the showers in your workspace in case this happened. He was thanking both you and the gods that he listened. 

“I… I need to t-... Usopp?” you asked sweetly, moving down to kneel at his feet with your hands on either of his hips, “I need you to take off your briefs now so I can check if any got on your…Got on… If any got on…” you rambled before nodding to the large cock being revealed in the wet fabric. “We can count to three, okay? When we hit three, I need you to put your hands up and get as much water as you can alongside some soap because there’s some on your hands. Let me take care of this, okay?”

“O-Okay,” Usopp stuttered while biting his lip, “You’re… You’re a lifesaver. I owe you my life.” He admitted with a small, choked sob, “If you don’t look at me any different after this, I would want to… If it’s okay with… Hgghhhmn WAIT-!” Usopp tried to remove his hand from his cock as a tested preliminary attempt at listening, but his orgasm quickly flooded into his belly and stood in a blockade at the floodgates, “I can’t! I can’t stop! I need to keep going. You don’t understand, I can’t!” He continued to piston his cock back and forward, the water soaking through his briefs to cast a perfect outline on the shape of his large shaft. 

“Usopp, I promise you it’ll be okay! Usopp, please,” you moved your hand to hold his wrist, “It will be okay, I promise. Look,” you stopped his movements, watching as his hips continued to roll forward into his touch over and over again until he sobbed away from the tease of his euphoria. You rose to stand, still with your hands on his hips, and tilted your head while leaning in. Your lips crashed into his as a distraction from the torment, his nose pressing into your cheek while you molded your lips over his in a perfect cast.

Water flushed down your back and gurgled into the drain beneath you Usopp returned the kiss in a hunger you had never seen from him. His tongue darted out and coated yours in a desperate layer of saliva while grinding it down into your mouth. You moaned into the kiss, momentarily releasing one of his hips in favour of cupping his face. He removed his hand from his cock and made to press it into your hip, only halting when he remembered he had pollen on his digits. He continued to pump in time with his greedy kiss.

“Hands up,” you uttered into his mouth, “Hands all the way up, and let me help you.” You gave him one more kiss before sliding down to your knees, “One, two, three.” On three, Usopp raised his hands to the circular showerhead and cupped the water flushing his body. You slid down his briefs and cast them aside, almost being hit in the face with the slender length of Usopp’s angry cock. His head was purple with the rising flood of blood pulsating along angry veins. He cried out when your hands found his body, thumbing over the skin to assess the damage. 

There was no pollen on his cock, but some pooling against his balls. You hastily moved to the soap, meeting Usopp’s hands while he rubbed the pollen away from his fingernails. You quickly moved to cup his balls and massaged away the dust from his skin while breaking your own heart by ignoring his angry cock. Usopp almost screamed as soon as your hands found his body, his now clean hands finding the back of your head and stabilising himself against you.

As Usopp’s hands found your head, you both had no idea who made the first move or not. Whether he rut his cock into your face, or whether you parted your lips to welcome him inside your lips: you had Usopp’s sensitive cock-head in your mouth. The salty precum mixed with the water and soap rushed into your mouth while you eagerly bobbed along his length. Your eyes rolled back into your head while he mounted your face, working his cock into your throat in a rough and uncharacteristically animalistic pace. He grunted and whined in unison, his own eyes rolling back in his head while your mouth made quick work of getting him close to his orgasm once more. 

“I-I-I’m gonna cum!” he cried, gripping onto your head for dear life, “I’m so close! Please don’t stop! Don’t stop! Don’t stop.” Usopp brayed with every thrust while more of that salty rush coated your tongue. Your underwear stuck to your cunt, now dripping shamelessly with arousal while Usopp used your face to fuck out the aphrodisiac. As soon as you felt him twitch and bob inside your mouth to indicate his proximity to eruption, it stopped like a barrier was holding it back. Usopp screamed in pain while his achingly heart cock remained as such without relief. He cried shamelessly while you continued cupping his balls and bobbing against his length. He couldn't deny that it felt good, and he would’ve cum if under any other circumstance, but he simply didn’t this time. 

The thought came to you that perhaps it was the lingering call of bodies merging as one that would halt the spread of the pollen, but you pushed it aside until crescent-shaped nails pressed into your head. You shook your head while moving your hand down to your underwear and moving the crotch aside. Your fingers played with the seam of your cunt while you continued working Usopp’s cock to maintain contact. He continued sobbing, crying out apologies while the water cascaded down your back and onto your soaked underwear. 

One finger, then another was added into yourself while you stretched your cunt out to take him. You were shamelessly wet and dripping onto your hands while you moved inside yourself. You almost came while Usopp mounted your head again, his cock screaming to cum while unable to do so. His black hair stuck to his face while water streamed down the contours of his spine. You couldn’t help but take a look up at him through the steam and watch as his face contoured in a merger or rage and plea. He needed you, and you had no choice but to give in. 

Counting to three in your head, as soon as you reached the ‘three’, you ripped your head away from his cock and rose to stand. Usopp cried out at the absence, but was quickly silenced by your lips finding his once more. You pushed his body against the cupboard and rose your foot to brace against it. Your lips never left his as you quickly slid your fingers from inside yourself in favour of holding your underwear to the side. Usopp’s eyes were wide in the kiss while yours remained shut and focussed. 

And then you slid your dripping cunt down Usopp’s cock, your pussy stretching and contorting around him in a way that had every chorus erupting in Usopp’s head. His hands moved to grip your ass, quickly rutting into you while you bounced on him. The position you were in was not as comfortable as you assumed, your leg remaining on the ground taking all of your weight while you fucked him hard and fast. 

As if almost reading your mind, Usopp moved down and cupped the back of your remaining thigh, sweeping you completely off your feet and turning you in unison. Your back hit the cupboard with a thud, unlatching the triangular toggle from the hook and turning the shower off completely. Your kiss never broke while ‘God Usopp’ demonstrated exactly what it was like to fuck a higher power. His cock curved up inside your cunt and hit a place you had never felt before. He ricochetted that momentum and hit the mark on the head every time he bucked forward. 

Usopp screamed at himself to hold off for as long as he could despite his body punishing him for it, because he wanted you to feel good far more than he did. He simply couldn’t hold it for any longer as his body betrayed him. His cum shot from his cock like a catapult on enemy lines. Ropes of thick viscosity coated your walls and bloated your belly with its intense velocity. Usopp had no idea what his name was at this stage, this orgasm being the longest he had ever experienced while he wildly fucked into you without any rhythm. 

Every time his crotch met your body, your clit was slapped. You had no idea where the sudden rushing sensation came from, but your body released a large amount of fluids all over his thighs and crotch while stars twinkled in your darkening vision. You had never passed out while having sex before, but your slowly growing limp body was enough of a warning sign to alert you that you were on your way to. 

Quickly bracing yourself on Usopp’s shoulders, you felt the world darken around you while waves of pleasure was continuing to crash throughout your body. You hung your head on Usopp’s shoulder and let him use you while you found sleep carrying you away. You mumbled softly for him to keep going, use your body for as long as he needed to before the world slipped from your vision. 

Waking moments later, you found yourself in clean sheets with dry skin, your ruined underwear missing and replaced with an oversized shirt on your body. You made to move away from the warmth beside you, only halting when you found yourself pulled in tighter. The embrace was comfortable, warm, and gentle; everything your body needed after the serious beating you put it through moments prior. 

“Are you okay?” Usopp’s voice cracked in a gentle whisper down at you, “I… I gave you one of my shirts to wear, and I… I threw your underwear out with my briefs. I didn’t want… I just… I’m so sorry.” You turned your head and groggily looked up at the man beside you. You gave him an expression halfway between a dazed smile and an open laugh, only which forced you both to begin laughing at one another. 

“Did you get it out of your system?” you asked him softly, moving your index finger up to trace along the contours of his chest and halting at his throat, “I told you to keep going if you needed to. You definitely looked as if you needed it.” You smiled up at him before you rolled onto your side, pressing a kiss to his jaw while his face rushed with sudden heat.

“You… After we… After I… I only did it once,” Usopp stumbled over his words, stumbling further while your eyes met with his own, “And I… I hadn’t done… That… before either. I... I just wanted it to be good... for you too...” He attempted to avoid your gaze, only to find himself hypnotised into your playful expression. You pressed your lips softly to his, breaking away quickly after and smiling down at him.

“As in… I was your… First?” you quickly bit your lips to stop that impish smile from rising on your face. Usopp gave you a gentle nod, and fireworks erupted in your head. You, a Barto-Pirate, a part of the Straw Hat fanclub, took your favourite Straw Hat’s virginity, and he looked at you as if he loved you.

“You were, a-and I’m really… I’m really grateful and everything, I just… I’m sorry for how it happened. Not that I didn’t want it to eventually happen, I just didn’t want it to happen, like that.” He rambled a little, giggling nervously between his words while you continued to mentally celebrate at him. He used this moment of honesty to continue on, “Outside of the Straw Hats, I’m really close to you. I think about you all the time, you know? Like, when I’m alone, I think about all the different things I want to tell you, or see with you, or silly stuff I want to make for you to show you because you like… You actually care, you know? You want to know stuff about me and my life, and I just… I love you. I don’t know when it started, but I love you-! Mghhmph-!”

Lips collided against one another as you brought them down onto him and kissed him tenderly. Tears of joy fell from you both while you poured your own heart onto Usopp’s, both of you feeling truly seen and heard by one another while your limbs began entwining by the will of yourselves without the flowers. Elsewhere on the ship, Nami was finally parting with her Beri and giving it directly to the swordsman, who was beaming triumphantly while drinking a swig of his sake. But none of that mattered. 

All that did was the way yours and Usopp’s hearts and souls merged into one, while tales of seas and starlight became the story you both lived in that very moment.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @mermaniaa @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @jadeddangel @thesunxwentblack @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @yujo-nishimura @sunnyferr @floufli @pumpk1nn-patch @artemis162534

You watch him as he paces around the Mantis. Through the kitchen, back around the lounging area, over to the holotable and then repeat. It had gotten so bad that even Cere was starting to get a little annoyed. Greez had been annoyed since the start however. You could practically feel the annoyance slowly turn into anger and bubble up through the air. This is when you finally decided to intervene to save everyone the yelling.

“Cal.” You say gently, placing a hand on his arm to stop his pacing.

“Yeah?”

“Come with me for a second.” You whisper, hand moving down to grab his and lead him to your room. Greez and Cere share relieved sighs and make a mental note to thank you profusely.

The doors shut behind you and Cal looks at you expectantly.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, letting him move to stand a few feet in front of you.

“What do you mean? I’m fine.”

“You’re pacing around the ship and driving Cere and Greez crazy.” You say, arms crossing over your chest.

“Really? Why didn’t they tell me to stop?”

“They were close, I could feel how close they were to yelling at you so I dragged you back here. They don’t want to say anything because they know you’re struggling, and pacing can help you regulate your emotions which they know…but then you just kept going and-“ You stop when you see his frown. “They aren’t upset with you, Cal.” You assure him, taking a tentative step closer.

“Are you upset with me?” He asks quietly, because that’s what he cares about the most. He never wants you to be upset with him, or angry or start to resent him.

“Of course not.” You shake your head with furrowed brows. “Unlike those two, I’d tell you if I was annoyed with you. I don’t lie, and I always tell the truth even if it hurts. You know that.” Cal nods and looks down at his hands.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Is there something specific that’s bothering you or is it just…everything?” You ask, reaching a hand out to grab one of his. You’d noticed him starting to pick at the skin around his nails, you hoped to stop him by holding his hand.

“All of it.” He says weakly. “It’s all just…piling up. I don’t know how much more I can take.” He admits, voice cracking. He always tries to act so strong and unfazed, but he’s still just a kid.

“I know.” You hum, brushing your thumb over his knuckles. “I have an idea, a way to hopefully help you relax.” He looks up at you with hopeful eyes. “It could help you finally fall asleep too.”

“What is it?” He asks, eyes sparkling with curiosity. You hesitate, your hand gripping his just a bit tighter.

“Cal, do you trust me?” You whisper.

“Of course. I trust you more than anyone.” He whispers back as he watches you.

“And you’ll tell me if you’re uncomfortable? If you want to stop, do something else?”

“Yeah, always.” He says with furrowed brows. “You’re starting to freak me out a little bit now.” He laughs nervously.

“Don’t freak out, that’s what we’re trying to avoid.” He nods slowly. “It’s just me.” You whisper, leaning in closer so your faces are inches apart.

“Just you.” He mumbles back as he watches you with hazy eyes. You can see his shoulders untense the slightest bit. You notice his eyes flick down to look at your lips before quickly moving back up.

“I’ve got you, Cal.” You mumble, hands moving to rest on either side of his face. “Always.” You finally lean in and connect your lips. Cal’s lips are soft against your own, just a bit chapped but so warm. You stay there for just a moment before he’s pulling away, already breathless.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

“Am I that bad of a kisser?” You joke, but the question is genuine. “I’m sorry…I thought you felt-“ You pause, starting to pull away. “I’m sorry.” Cal quickly grabs both of your upper arms to pull you back into him. His lips crash into yours with a quiet whimper.

You smile into the kiss, moving your arms to wrap around his neck while his fall down to your waist. He pulls you impossibly closer and you feel him rub up against you. You moan into his mouth, hands digging into his shirt.

“Sorry…I didn’t-“ He pulls away to whisper but you stop him with another kiss.

“Don’t apologize, not for this…ever.” You whisper back, pushing your lips together again. You slowly slip your tongue into his mouth, hearing him whine and greedily swallowing the sound. Cal’s hips move of their own accord, bucking up and seeking any kind of friction.

You slowly start backing him up until his legs hit your bed. He stumbles back onto it and you climb on top of him, settling in his lap. His hands instinctively grab your waist, squeezing the fat in his hands. You press your lips to his in a messy kiss just as you grind your hips down, making him whine and tighten his grip on your flesh.

You keep grinding down against him, creating that much needed friction both of you had been craving. You pull away to catch your breath, looking down at Cal and his flushed cheeks. His lips all puffy and red, slick with both of your spit. His pupils are blown so wide you swear he doesn’t look human anymore.

“Still trust me?” You whisper, kissing his cheek and his jaw.

“Always.” He manages to sigh.

“Promise to tell me if you don’t like something?”

“Promise.” He pants. You slowly reach down as you kiss down his neck, your hand slipping past the waistband of his pants. He gasps and looks down to watch the movement, eyes wide and breath hitching. Your hand wraps around him and any common sense he has disappears entirely. His head tilts back and his mouth falls open with a quiet moan.

You continue trailing kisses down his neck, licking and biting until he’s covered in red and purple marks. You pull away to look down at where you’re stroking him, pulling his pants down just enough for his dick to spring free. Cal’s breath catches as you stroke him, throat bobbing as he desperately tries to hold back the noises he so badly wants to make.

“You can tell me if you want something too.” You whisper sweetly. “In addition to telling me when you don’t like something.” You peck his lips. “Anything you want, it’s yours.” You mutter, glancing back down at your hand.

“I just…” Cal pauses to release a shaky sigh as he chokes back a moan. “I just want you.” He whimpers.

“You have me.” You whisper. “You’ve always had me, since the moment we met.”

“Really?” He asks with a breathy moan, looking back up to meet your eyes.

“Yes.”

“You’ve had me for just as long.” He replies quietly. You can’t hold yourself back as you crash your lips into his once more, conveying everything you can’t say with words. Cal pulls away first, surprisingly enough, panting against your lips. “I want…” He trails off as your grip tightens around him, making him stutter.

“What do you want?” You ask, slowing your movements so he can focus.

“I want…t-to be inside you.” He chokes out, cheeks going red with embarrassment.

“Yeah?” You ask with a smirk, head tilted to the side.

“Please.” He whines so pathetically that you almost go feral. You quickly pull off your shirt and pants, standing up to remove them properly. Cal makes quick work of his own clothes and leans back on the bed when you crawl back on top of him. He stares at you with so much heat in his eyes, but also such softness and tenderness.

“Still want to be inside of me?” You search for reassurance, slowly reaching down to grab a hold of him again.

“Yes.” Cal gasps. “Yes, please…please.” He practically cries and you gently shush him.

“You don’t have to beg, sweet boy.” You whisper against his lips, lining him up with your entrance while he stares into your eyes. He’s caught off guard when your warmth suddenly envelopes the head of his dick. He chokes on a groan as he glances down, watching you slowly lower yourself onto him. He moans and throws his head back on the bed, eyes screwed shut as his hands tightly grip your stomach for support.

“Doing so good.” You whisper gently, feeling him twitch inside of you. “Like when I tell you how good you are?” You ask with a smile, kissing his exposed jaw and throat.

“Yes.” He chokes out, stifling dozens of little whines and whimpers.

“Noted.” You mumble, finally lowering yourself completely, moaning at the full feeling. “Shit, Cal.” You whine and it makes something in his stomach twist, hips bucking up without a second thought. He thrusts impossibly deeper and drags another whine from you, higher and longer. He keeps a tight grip on your hips as he starts to take control, bucking his hips up into you repeatedly.

“Cal.” You cry, stifling your moan by biting his shoulder. He groans at the mix of pain and pleasure, both mixing so deliciously inside him. He can hear the loud slapping sound as your ass hits his thighs each time he thrusts up. Cal stutters as he tries to remember how to form words, desperate to feel closer to you, feel that sweet affection only you can grant him.

“Please.” He whispers, panting against your neck.

“What is it, baby?” You ask, slowly pulling away to look at him, hands resting on either side of his face.

“Kiss.” He breathes. “Please.”

“Always.” You whisper, connecting your lips without a trace of hesitation. Cal licks into your mouth as he quickens his pace, groaning into your mouth and allowing himself to be just a bit louder. You whine and cry into his own mouth, your sounds filling him with pride and an almost unbearable heat in his stomach.

Cal pulls back from your lips just enough to speak, not daring to move any further from you.

“I think I-I’m close.” He stutters out, hips thrusting up with an unrelenting vigor.

“Me too.” You fumble to grab one of his hands, moving it down to your soaked cunt. He lets you guide him, pulling his thumb and resting it over your clit. “Circles.” You pant to him. “Rub in circles.” You practically beg. Cal does exactly as you ask, matching the pace to the timing of his thrusts. You stifle a squeal at the feeling, nodding frantically. “Yes…oh stars, yes.” You groan, leaning back down to kiss him.

Cal finishes first, groaning into your mouth. His sounds start to turn into whimpers as he borders on overstimulation, waiting for you to finish too. He keeps moving his hips despite the exhaustion threatening to drag him away.

“So close, sweet boy.” You sigh. “So good, just a little bit more.” You start to pant out desperate whines as you bury your face in his neck. He twitches inside of you again at your words, loving to be good for you. He listens to your noises and quietly memorizes each one, storing them away in a safe place inside his brain.

Your whines turn into little squeals as you reach the edge. Your cunt squeezes around him and makes his hips buck up harder at the feeling. His breath catches as you start to shake and scream into his neck as you come around him. You’re squeezing him so tightly, and you’re so warm, you just feel so good he can’t help but come inside of you again.

Cal pulls you down, burying himself deep as he paints your walls with his cum. You go mostly limp on top of him, face still buried in his neck as you both try to catch your breath.

“You okay?” You whisper first.

“More than okay.” He whispers back, eyes shut in pure bliss.

“Relaxed?”

“Extremely.” He sighs, arms wrapping around you to hug you tightly. “Thank you.” He pecks your temple and you giggle.

“Anytime.”

Then, by morning, it was the same routine—the decorations were cycled through from oranges and purples to whites, golds, blues, and silvers. Some red ribbons were attached to the tall iron posts in the streets. Fake snow was scattered in parks, ice rinks were erected in the shopping district. Cheery music played from speakers, and the fall was forgotten as the winter chill seeped in off the coast. 

Parties came more often then. From students, faculty, and businesses trying to drum up more sales. They could be ticked off on your fingers every year—sure, the days were slightly different, but you were anticipating the invitations before you even opened your mailbox. 

Same ones every year—your parents' winter celebration, the academy's winter solstice celebration held throughout the whole campus. Then there was the one your dorm floor held; all doors opened and decorations splattered everywhere as finals were just around the corner. After that, there was the invite to the faculty party that you were given out of courtesy since you'd started interning with different professors. 

Lastly, there was the Piltover New Year’s Bash. 

Piltover’s best and brightest were invited to show off their prowess and mingle with one another. Talk politics, the previous year’s income and success, what they intended to introduce come the new year to push profits. Asses were kissed and it was a celebration of networking. 

You were never invited to attend that party. You were, however, greatly encouraged to work it. Slap on a pretty dress, grab a tray, hand out food or drinks, and essentially show off how you’d succeeded at the academy should anyone inquire. It was a paid position and was labeled as the way for prospective academics to get their foot in the door to gain a real invitation. 

It came on a standard mass invite. A generic white piece of parchment with instructions on how to work the party should you wish to. Sometimes it was folded; sometimes it was wrapped in a tacky ribbon. You could spot it before even opening it up. 

So when you did your mailbox combination, you felt your heart drop when you hadn't seen it. You thumbed through the invites frantically—no scroll or folded invite in sight. 

You'd done it the last four years—you figured they'd ask you to do it again. There was no cut-off based on student level. Graduate students were allowed to participate. You'd worked it with many of them. But…you thumbed through the stack again. Nothing. 

Nothing then, nothing the next day, and nothing the day after. 

Your coworker had gotten one. They were asking you about it when you went into the lab a few days later. The few graduate students that were scattered around the boxes of unorganized papers and files all looked up. There was some murmuring when you were asked if you'd gotten one, and you stayed silent. 

"Wait, you didn't get one?" Marcia sat up straighter and actively stopped trying to organize the box. It was busy work that put students in the good graces of the more affluent researchers at the academy. "You've worked it like every year, though."

“They probably wanted to give the spot to students who haven’t.” You shrugged as best as you could. Now that you’d graduated, working the party could’ve opened dozens of more doors. “It is what it is. I was thinking about going home for the new year anyway.”

“Bull.” Marcia leaned back on her hand. “I know for a fact you were going to try and talk to Dr. Gillian about her psych internship.” 

“Yeah, well…” You sucked in a slow breath. It had been on your to-do list to inquire with Dr. Gillian. She attended the last four years and mentioned that next year, after graduating, you should talk to her about working with her. She opened an internship for graduate students at the start of every year. It’d be a damn good internship to get, but since you weren’t invited back to the party… “It’s fine. I’ll just apply like any normal graduate.”

“Oh, come on, (Y/N).” Marcia pursed her lips and tilted her chin down. “You’re like one of the best workers they have. This seriously isn’t bothering you?”

"What isn't bothering you?" The door to the lab was nudged open and your two bosses—technically—stepped in. A minor technicality since you'd been helping Jayce and Viktor since year two in one way or another. When you mentioned you were looking for extra work to do over the break between finals and the new year, they'd scooped you up without having to fill out any paperwork. "If it's about the boxes, I know that isn't true. I've heard you mouth off about Vik's horrid filing attempts before."

"(Y/N) wasn't invited back to work the New Year's party this year." Marcia looked up at Jayce and held her invite up. 

“They did not invite you?” Viktor’s brows pinched as he sat at his desk, spinning on his tall metal stool. 

"Well, that's idiotic." Jayce sat down a stack of books. "Want me to talk to someone about it?"

Jayce’s new status as a council member wasn’t something he was shy about using, but you certainly weren’t going to ask him to use it over this. That was petty and pointless. If they’d wanted to invite you, they would’ve. Bullying them into doing so and then showing up would just…look bad. 

“No, but I appreciate the offer.” You reached into the box in front of you and fished out a handful of papers. “Although, Viktor, really…for such a meticulous guy, your lack of alphabetization is astounding.”

You squinted at the handwriting and brought the page closer. 

“Wait, sorry.” You held it up and turned it toward Jayce. “For a councilman, Jayce, you should be ashamed. Come on.”

“And there goes any pity you have from me.” Jayce dragged a stool over to Viktor’s desk and dropped down. He held his hand up and spun to face the blueprints Viktor already had sprawled out on the massive wood. 

You rolled your eyes at Jayce's back before clocking Marcia's pitying look. A stray piece of paper from her box had found its way near you, so, doing your required duty of returning it to her, you folded it into a makeshift airplane and threw it at the side of her head. 

If Jayce hadn’t given a semi-stern look over his shoulder, their files would’ve turned into an even bigger unorganized mess as Marcia threatened to throw a plane back. Viktor smiled as he followed Jayce’s glare over to you and Marcia, and you mouthed an apology before hunching over and getting back to work. 

Busy work was annoying. Well, busy work just about anywhere else except with Jayce and Viktor. While they were exactly forthcoming with their research information—that was for their brains only when it was so prospective—they did require extra hands. Moving items, forging alongside Jayce, and being an extra hand when Viktor needed it. Sometimes it was just to hold tools as he explained what he was doing. Other times, it was actively helping him work through a project he had to help the professor with. 

“(Y/N), would you mind if I borrow your hands a moment?” 

Viktor pushed his goggles up as he glanced toward you. The rest of the graduate students were leaving as the boxes were done. A few were tagging along to help Jayce in the forge—you forgoing it when Jayce asked for extra help. 

“Sure.” You smiled and sat your bag near the door, sauntering over and standing beside Viktor’s. “Whatcha need?”

"Hold this, please." Viktor gave you two rubber gloves and nodded down at a squeaky metal door that wouldn't stay open. It gave you some resistance as you pried it open, and Viktor lowered a thin rubber-coated poker into the opening and poked at some wires. "There will be sparks, but you are safe."

As if on cue, a few blue sparks shot out, and Viktor frowned. He poked around in there again, and the sparks fired off again. 

“I take that it’s not supposed to be doing that?” You tried not to laugh when he nodded. 

“Correct.” He sat back and motioned for you to keep your hands in place, reaching aside and grabbing tools you couldn’t remember the names of even if you’d handed them to him dozens of times. “It should be an easy fix. Please keep the latch like that—it is completely safe.”

“Don’t worry, the sparks don’t scare me anymore.” The first time Jayce and Viktor had asked for your help, they hadn’t warned you that there might be a big reaction. See, they were fine getting hit by a few sparks. Some scars from the trade looked good on them. You, however, were not a fan of a sudden burning on your hands and reacted accordingly. A yelp and a jerking back of your hands led to them profusely apologizing. All the time. “But I appreciate the gloves.”

“Of course.” Viktor smiled up at you as he turned the tools over in his hands. “Your hands have gotten steadier. Significantly so.”

“Well, I can’t exactly help with sensitive projects like this if my hands are shaky.” 

You felt your cheeks warm a tad and avoided eye contact. There'd been a specific reason your hands were shaking every time you helped them, and it was from more than general nerves. Even as the years passed and you worked with them more and more, they were still the Jayce and Viktor. Brilliant academics; helped bring in more big names into the academy with their advancement of Hextech. 

Jayce was on the council, for fuck's sake. 

It was also a fairly big detriment that both men were attractive. Whether they wore that as a fact on their sleeve—Jayce—or were entirely blind to it as they asked for your assistance—Viktor. Jayce used to ham it up when he caught you getting flustered. He'd bat his eyelashes and give you that winning smile. Until, at some point, you went from admiring Jayce's beauty to smacking his arm whenever he'd lean in and try to bait you into doing more work with the effect of that pretty smile. 

"You burned it out," you said one night when you were helping the two of them with a project that had fallen behind the deadline. "Jayce, you're pretty. We all know this. But you basically shoved the ship from the dock and waved as it sailed away."

“Damn.” Jayce chuckled as he came up beside you and handed you a mug of coffee. “A hit to my confidence. However will I recover knowing the best student assistant we’ve had isn’t crushing on me anymore?” 

“Aw, flattery.” You gave his shoulder as condescending of a pat as you could. “It’s not going to make me stay longer. I do actually have finals in…five hours.”

You winced as you checked your watch. 

“Quick, Vik,” Jayce said as he slid over to him. “Ask them to stay. You still retain your power.”

You contemplated hurling the mug at Jayce’s head. If there’d been one off-limits bit to avoid, it was Viktor. While Jayce absolutely leaned into hamming up the harmless teasing—sometimes to the point it was laughable—Viktor never spoke of it. Never made mention of it to you, never joked about it whenever Jayce brought up the general topic; never even commented on your original shyness when you started working together. 

"Go home, (Y/N)." Viktor smiled as he took the mug from Jayce. "And good luck with your finals." 

That was a week ago, and you could still feel how your heart had stopped when Jayce had brought it up. No mention of it since. No mention of it ever. 

“Do you really wish to work the party?” Viktor’s brows furrowed as he leaned a bit closer to whatever hunk of metal he had you helping with. 

You blinked as you pulled yourself out of your thoughts and inhaled slowly. 

"I mean…" You bit your bottom lip—it felt a bit embarrassing confessing your plan to Viktor. Especially given the fact that if you interned with Dr. Gillian, it'd mean you wouldn't be able to work with them for the spring. "Dr. Gillian had mentioned me working her spring internship when we started talking at the party last year. She said to find her this year, and she'd love to finalize it."

Viktor was silent, and he moved his tools, causing a few more sparks to fire off. They were closer to an orange this time, and your fingers twitched when they landed on your glove. 

"Dr. Gillian provides many open doors and a good opportunity. It is a smart internship to go after." Viktor spoke as he did whenever he was speaking to himself. A matter-of-fact tone fallen into a murmur as he nodded his head. "I believe she was invited again this year."

"For a guy who usually avoids that stuff, you really know the guest list off the top of your head?" You laughed a bit dryly as more sparks flew. Maybe you'd lied. The orange sparks were the ones that'd hit you during your first attempt at helping them, and they'd hurt like a bitch. The blue ones always dissipated like magic swirling in the air. "That's impressive."

Viktor moved the tools again, and a massive burst of sparks hit. You flinched enough to be noticed, but you held the latch open. It'd be more detrimental if it closed, and you weren't going to mess up Viktor's work just from a few bright orange specks. 

Viktor murmured something indistinguishable and changed his tool out. He slid that tool in as he hunched over the machine and brought his other hand up. Your heart stopped when it rested atop yours. It was a gentle hold, keeping your hand in place as he did something inside the latch that you paid absolutely zero attention to. Not when more sparks flew, and Viktor gave your hand a light squeeze. 

None of the sparks hit him or you, but you still flinched and Viktor held you still. 

"I was considering attending this year," he said as another burst of sparks went off, and you twitched again. His hand remained right over yours. "It would be beneficial and, contrary to what might be thought, I do not dislike attending them. I simply prefer for Jayce to do the…schmoozing, as one might call it."

“Really?” You swallowed hard and tried to focus on what Viktor was saying. “You should go. I mean, I’m sure you’ve gone before, but even from the worker’s side—it’s fun.”

"Perhaps." Viktor's grip tightened on your hand, and you expected more sparks. But they didn't come. "Would you like to attend it with me?"

Your hand relaxed on the latch, and Viktor didn't even glance up as another round of sparks flew. He murmured your name and squeezed your hand before you were actively pushing it back open. You bit your lip to try to get your hand to stop shaking beneath his, but it didn't. And Viktor still didn't move his hand. 

"Invitees are allowed a plus one and it would provide you with the opportunity to talk with Dr. Gillian." Viktor pulled the toll out and shifted back. He had little indents around his eyes as he pushed the goggles up to the top of his head. "So, if you would like, the option is there."

You couldn't get a full breath. Not when Viktor hadn't lifted his hand from yours yet. Although the second you realized it, Viktor seemed to as well, and he slowly lifted it. 

The latch fell closed when your hand went to your side. 

It was difficult trying to find a response. Your words had scrambled themselves in your head as Viktor sat with his hands on his lap, peering up at you with patient curiosity. 

“You…” You had to reach out and pick up the words from a rushing river. “You’d really give up your plus one for me to network?”

There was a very, very fine line between being invited simply because Viktor wanted to give you the option to talk to Dr. Gillian and because he wanted to attend with you. Both were drastically different in meaning and you were standing as still as you could on the line. It was a damn feat trying to balance on the tightrope as thin as a piece of hair. If you assumed it was one over the other, one of you would end up embarrassed. 

“It would go unused should you not desire to attend. I see no better person to offer it to.” Viktor turned back to the desk and started to organize his tools before locking the latch shut. “I must add that we do have to walk in together in order to enter, but you are under no obligation to…how do I put this…”

Viktor pursed his lips as he took the goggles off. 

"Vik," you interrupted, and he cocked a brow as he tried to fix his tousled hair. "If I go with you, I'm going with you. I wouldn’t ditch you.”

The slightest pink slid over his cheeks, and he readjusted the tools a bit more. 

"That is…very nice." He folded his hands on his lap and cleared his throat quietly. "Well, should you wish to attend, the offer is there. Just let me know, and I will arrange it."

He folded and unfolded his hands before smiling up at you. 

There was a fluttering in your stomach that traveled up to your chest. It was a sentiment that equated to taking time to think it over and then get back to him. But you knew the second you left the lab, you’d start overthinking it and you’d talk yourself out of it. 

“I’ll go,” you found yourself saying, voice a bit shaky as you pulled the gloves off. “Er—I’d love to go with you, Vik. Thank you.”

The pink darkened just enough to notice, and he smiled. Nodded once before closing his toolbox and looking up at you. 

“Of course.” He took a slow breath and you watched the way his chest expanded beneath the academy uniform. “I will make sure to get you all the necessary information by tomorrow. Otherwise, you are dismissed. Thank you again for your assistance with this.”

You bit your lip and nodded. 

“Yeah, you’re welcome.” You sat the gloves down and backed away a bit slowly, a strange mixture of giddiness and anxiety spurring inside you. “I will…see you tomorrow.”

You couldn't believe it. Neither could Marcia, and neither could Jayce when they inevitably found out. Well, Jayce was cheeky about it. When you went down to help him in the forge for a bit, he turned and wiped sweat from his face, just beaming. It was all about how Viktor had asked you out on a date and it was to the New Year's party of all places. 

“It’s not a date,” you corrected and threw his shirt at him. 

“Yeah, sure.” Jayce pulled the white undershirt over his head. “You’re both trying to act so cool about it, yet Vik’s already stressing about what he should wear. Viktor is.”

“Well, I’m wearing a navy blue dress,” you said as you and Jayce walked into the hallway outside. “It’s a dress I’ve been dying to wear for months, so I’m covered. And it’s not a date. Viktor didn’t phrase it like that.”

“Like a dark navy?” Jayce scratched his jaw. “And oh? It’s not a date cause of Vik’s phrasing, not cause you don’t want it to be one?”

"Yes, dark navy." You shoved the message you'd been instructed to give Jayce into his hands. "And you're picking apart my words now. Stop that."

“If Vik had made it blatantly obvious that it was a date, would you have still said yes?” Jayce scanned the page and nodded. 

“Really, Jayce? You’re on the council and working to create world-changing advancements. This is what you want to spend your time talking about?”

“It’s a simple yes or no question.” He folded the note and slid it into his pocket. “Do I need to repeat it?”

“I…” You threw up your hands. Jayce would drop it if you actually asked him—probably. But there was no harm in answering when Jayce already knew what you were going to say. His smug expectant look told you just as much. “Alright, yes. You already know that, Jayce.” 

“I know.” He tipped his chin up and ran a hand through his hair. “Just wanted to hear you say it.”

He nudged your shoulder with his and sped up, motioning for you to follow him back to the lab. You did so, rolling your eyes first and trying to silence the thoughts about what if Viktor had intended it as a date. Or, if he had asked you out to the party as a date—but he would’ve been straightforward about it if that were the case. Right?

Didn’t matter. You couldn’t afford to focus on that when you had to work with the other grad students in the lab, deal with Jayce’s knowing glances between you and Viktor, and get the info from Viktor. He waited until the lab was mostly empty, thankfully. That spared you too many prying eyes and from being left alone for either of you to potentially say something awkward. 

Viktor probably wouldn’t. But you’d been thinking about what Jayce asked the whole damn day and the second you were alone with Viktor, you’d say something embarrassing. You already proved yourself partially right when he handed you his invitation so you had all of the information, your hands touched, and you dropped the thick beige invite.

“Sorry,” you murmured and nearly bumped your head upon reaching down and grabbing it. “Thanks.”

"Of course." Viktor nodded with a soft smile that made your heart do things you couldn't handle. "Since your dormitory is on the way, I…"

Viktor looked down at his hands and pulled the gloves off. 

“I was not sure if you could prefer to meet there or if you would like me to escort you.” His cheeks were tinted pink and he rubbed the back of his head. “It is whichever you prefer, I know I can walk slow, so I have no qualms about simply meeting there.”

"How about…I meet you outside my dorm." You tried your damndest to not squeeze and crinkle the invite. Especially when his hand dropped down and he gently massaged his thigh. "Save you the stairs, and I'll still get to fully admire the Viktor in a non-academy uniform without having to compete with everyone else.”

Viktor flushed a little more and you felt a skipping in your chest. A fast one that nearly knocked you off your feet. You wouldn’t even consider what you were saying flirtatious—not outwardly. Flirtatious never even dared to enter your conversations with Viktor. When he kept them out of his end, you kept them out of yours. This was pushing the line. 

But it had Viktor as flustered as when he’d put his hand on yours just twenty-four hours ago. 

“Then outside it is.” He fidgeted with his hands before rather abruptly turning back to his desk. “Does forty-five after eight sound alright?”

“Perfect.” You took a slow breath and started to walk away, but Viktor’s voice caught you before you left. 

“You are gone this next week for a visit home, correct?” 

He was peering over his shoulder, eyes a bit wide, but his brows were raised. The answer caught in your throat for a second before you smiled and nodded. 

"Yeah. My parents are throwing a party, and they want to celebrate the holidays with me. But I'll be back Tuesday." 

“Have fun.” Viktor’s smile was genuine but tight. “And do try and relax. I know how trying finals are.”

“Thanks, Vik. I will. See you in a week…ish.” You waved. “Happy Holidays.”

It was simultaneously a short yet excruciatingly long week. Holidays were always tense at your parents' place. All your extended family members came in, and you were poked and prodded about school. Many liked that you were working with Jayce and Viktor. Many more liked that you said you were aiming for Dr. Gillian's internship. 

Technically, it was only one day slated for the party. But the whole week was a fiasco. The only thing that was getting you through it was getting back to the academy and going to the New Year’s party with Viktor. Even if you were still uncertain—thanks to Jayce—about whether your attendance with him was a date or not. 

That’d be a huge shift in your relationship. Jayce flirting with you—sure. Funny. It’d grown into its own bit at this point. But Viktor suddenly following in his footsteps and it being genuine? Viktor didn’t seem like the type to mess around with you just cause he could—not the same way Jayce had. 

Damn Jayce. He’d gotten in your head about the whole thing. 

It wasn’t a date. Viktor was just being nice and giving you the opportunity to meet with Dr. Gillian to talk about the internship. That was it. 

Still didn't stop you from being nervous as hell when you eventually went back to the academy and the party got closer. Day by day, the anxiety got worse. It even transferred into your work at the lab. Jayce noticed the instant that you got back and stole you away. You thought it was a coincidence until he kept stealing you away. 

“Your nerves are showing,” he cooed when you followed him down to his office. “Excited for your date?”

“Shut up.” You shoved him aside and went into his office first. “This is bullying, you know that? I’m technically your employee and you’re bullying me.”

"Is it now?" He spun as he flicked the lights on and grabbed a stack of files from his incoming box. "Alright, alright. I'll back off; I'm sorry."

Jayce sauntered over to his desk and plopped down. You took the chair across from him and took the pen he gave you. 

“But are you?”

You threw the pen at him before taking the first file and rolling your eyes. Jayce laughed as you started his favorite organizational system. Important, really important, and can wait until tomorrow. 

"If I answer yes, does that mean you'll keep lending me this kind of work?" You glanced up after getting four memos in. Realistically, this was nothing more than pointless busy work. But it kept your mind off of the party and kept you from embarrassing yourself in front of Viktor. “Because if your answer is yes, then so is mine.”

Jayce chuckled and passed you a few more pieces as he checked a stack that’d been left on his desk. 

"I'll take that. Fine." He nodded, and not a hair moved out of place. "You got nothing to be worried about, (Y/N). Vik's nervous too. Don't have to put any pressure on the night—just go and have fun."

“For all the shit you’ve been giving me, you haven’t once said what Viktor thinks it is.” A narrow-eyed glare didn’t help crack Jayce’s code. “You said he’s nervous—that’s all I’ve gotten from you.”

“Wow, would you look at that?” Jayce stood as he grabbed a sticky note left on his desk. “I have a meeting I must attend in ten minutes. I’ll be back shortly.”

He threw a hand up before leaving, and you sat back and frowned. 

That cheeky bastard. Sure, he was saving you from embarrassment in the lab, but he was doing absolutely nothing to quell the lingering anxiety. 

You used that as the excuse for why you were shaking the night of the party. Your makeup took the brunt more than once as you got ready, and using the bathroom proved to be a multi-trip feat. But by the end, as you looked at yourself in the mirror and tried to catch your already rapid breath—it had all come together. 

It wasn't the fanciest dress known to Piltover, but it was donned with dainty sparkles that caught the lights. Silver thread was weaved throughout and made the dress cinch at the waist. An intricate pattern of silver and diamond formed a snowflake over your chest and a few snowflakes that were invisible except in the right lighting were sewn into the billowing skirt. The long slit up your leg let in the cold air, but as you slid on some silver bracelets, you'd just have to suffer the cold for the sake of fashion. 

Although once you saw Viktor, you were sure that chill wouldn’t be a problem. 

You were right. Painfully right. 

Your heels nearly slipped on the stairs when you pushed the front door open and saw Viktor waiting at the bottom of the stairs. The cold was a sudden shock, but he had a higher voltage. 

He was leaning on his cane and flattening out a little wrinkle on his trousers when you saw him. Slim-fitting burgundy slacks hung from his waist, a thick brown belt through the loops, and an off-white dress shirt was tucked in. A dark blue—almost black—jacket hung from his shoulders and a little brown cap sat on his head. 

In one hand, he had his cane. 

In his other, he had a single white rose. 

“Wow,” he breathed as you descended the steps, an iron grip on the railing as you tried to get yourself to breathe. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks.” You motioned down to your dress with shaky hands. “It’s one of the few things I have that the more…affluent Piltovans probably won’t scoff at.”

"Here." The flower shook as Viktor handed it over, and it didn't stop shaking even when you wrapped your fingers around the stem. "It felt appropriate. You do not need to keep it; I do not know where else you would keep it lest you want to hold it all night. I just…thought you should have it."

Viktor rubbed the back of his neck and the already prominent red on his cheeks darkened. Your attempt at breathing completely vanished as Viktor glanced down at the ground and shook his head. Bits and pieces of his chestnut hair poked up from beneath the cap and you felt yourself break into a thousand pieces only to melt back together. 

“Thank you. I love it, Vik.” You broke part of the stem off and peeled back what was left over, weaving it as best as you could into the snowflake design over your chest. It took a bit of wrangling, but you got it to stay just above your heart. “It’s not going anywhere.”

Viktor's laugh sounded somewhere between disbelief and relief as he peered up at the flower. His whole body relaxed, but he was looking at you like he couldn't quite believe you'd kept the flower. There was even a trash can right nearby. 

But he’d given it to you—you couldn’t get rid of it. 

"Come on," you said when Viktor's eyes finally shot up to meet yours. It took more courage than you'd counted on as you held out your hand, and you felt your breath hitch when he took it. "Let's go celebrate the New Year."

You walked hand-in-hand. You were holding hands with Viktor.  

It was an excruciating walk. It wasn't more than ten minutes away, but with every passing minute of small talk about work in the lab, the decorations on campus, on how nice Viktor looked, you couldn't breathe easily. Not when you were holding his hand. Not when you wore a flower he'd brought you on your chest. 

Was it a date? You were more than fine with that, but you damn well weren’t going to assume it was one. 

You were forced to part when you got to the party. Names were checked at the door, coats were taken, and it was all extremely overwhelming as you followed Viktor. A few recognizable faces from the staff gave you welcoming smiles when you walked through the entrance. Most were staffers you'd worked with in the past; others were just classmates and even friends. Marcia nearly dropped her tray when she saw you and Viktor step through the entrance. 

You barely noticed, too lost in looking at all the decorations. The massive chandelier done up, the music, the lights. The smell of hearty meats and roasted vegetables. Mead and wine. A faint scent that was reminiscent of the bakery just outside the campus. 

“Shall we find Dr. Gillian?” 

Viktor’s fingers grazed your elbow and you finally turned to look at him for the first time since entering. He just smiled so softly and his fingers were surprisingly warm against your skin. 

There were a few lingering gazes as everyone looked over. But you couldn't tell who they were looking at or who they were whispering about. You could take an educated guess—when was the last time Viktor showed up to a party like this? When was the last time a Zaunite showed up at a party in Piltover?

It broke you. 

“No.” You reached down and laced your fingers with his. “Let’s dance.”

“I am not much of a dancer,” he said softly as you led him out onto the dance floor. 

Anger resonated in you, and you could only ignore it by pretending they were all talking about how you were wearing last season's dress. Either that, or you were really just imagining their reactions after spending the last week riddled with nerves. You prayed it was the latter as you turned and brought your hands to Viktor's shoulders. 

He smiled shyly down at you and swayed as you did, the hand on his cane holding a tight grip. A blush crept up his neck as a few people turned your way. Some were just curious gazes from colleagues you recognized. Others were from strangers. 

“My apologies,” he whispered. “I am not much of a fan of…well.”

He peered around you as his free hand slid over your waist and down to your hip. 

“I am more comfortable with Jayce receiving attention.”

“Then,” you said as the music called for a spin and Viktor lifted his hand to meet yours. Your skirt billowed out and a rush of warm air puffed inside it. “Let’s change activities.”

“I…do not wish to take away this experience from you.” Viktor’s smile got tight and he sighed. “Truly, (Y/N). You do not have to accompany me tonight. Have your fun. I need to rendezvous with Jayce anyway.”

“Vik.” You tried to grab his hand as the song ended, but he just gave your waist a squeeze before bowing and departing. “Damn it.”

You pouted as you slid from the dance floor and watched Viktor disappear into the crowd. You could hear Heimerdinger and Jayce's laughs from where you were, so you had a general idea of where Viktor had disappeared to, but if he didn't want to hang out with you, there was much you could do. Despite being so reluctant, you let him go and went toward the first server you saw with food and then one with drinks. 

It was definitely different being on the other side of the party. Although you were nicer to the staff than anyone else you’d seen interact with them. You even pretended to ask Marcia questions about the drinks she was serving so she could linger longer and enjoy the party more. 

Between the finger foods, the bubbly fruity drinks, and talking with professors and other lucky classmates, you kept your eyes peeled for two people. Viktor and Dr. Gillian. Dr. Gillian, for obvious reasons, but you wanted to see Viktor. Wanted to hang out with him. 

But you kept coming back to the same question: was the outing a date?

It was a growing frustration as you traversed every inch of the party and couldn't find either person. Two hours passed before you were stopped by the massive clock hanging above the wide window near the front of the room. It rang out for the top of the hour: eleven times. Each beat added to the swell of music, and only a few people stopped and looked up at it. 

Thus started the last hour of the year. And you still hadn’t found Dr. Gillian. 

“She’s not here,” a slightly tipsy Jayce said when you stumbled into him just under an hour later. “A family emergency sent her home early. I tried to snag her, but I was roped into stuff with Heimerdinger and Mel.”

"That's fine," you answered, a bit deflated. "Have you seen Viktor? He disappeared like three hours ago, and I still haven't found him."

“Mm.” Jayce scratched his jaw and pursed his lips. “He didn’t say bye, so I don’t think he left. Maybe try outside on the balcony?”

“Balcony?” You followed Jayce’s finger when he pointed. There was a doorway off to the side that hadn’t been there last year. The wall had been sealed off and marked as a do not go near section due to construction.

“Yup. Fixed up and expanded the old one. Try there.” Jayce gave your shoulder a pat. “You look lovely, by the way. Threw Vik through a damn loop, he hasn’t had his head on straight since you got here.”

“Thank,” you stuttered a bit before grabbing two drinks from a passing tray and heading toward the opening. 

Your heels clacked down the surprisingly quiet hallway as a few other partygoers passed you. It wasn’t a long passageway, and there were a few windows looking out at the balcony before you got to the door and slid out the opening. 

Massive marble-looking tile was spread over the expansive balcony. Lights and garland were looped through the railing, the music barely carried, and soft conversations and rich-sounding laughter took over. 

At least, for as expansive as it was, it was easy to take stock in who was out there.

And there was tall and lanky Viktor sitting back on a marble bench, head back and looking up at the sky. His breath was a cloud as he exhaled and smiled softly. 

“There you are,” you said as you approached. He cocked a brow and lolled his head to look at you. “Drink?”

“Thank you.” He nodded his head as he took the thin-stemmed glass and raised it as you sat beside him. “Were you able to talk to Dr. Gillian?”

“Unfortunately, she had to leave early.” You swirled the drink and shrugged. “I tried to find her, but alas. I missed her.”

“My apologies.” Viktor took a sip as he looked out over the Piltover skyline. “I can inquire with the professor—”

“Don’t worry about it, Vik.” You nudged your shoulder against his. “It’s okay. I’ll just apply for the internship. If I get it, I get it. If I don’t, I don’t.”

You glanced down and shrugged. There was a bit of guilt since Viktor had used his plus one to bring you. 

“Sorry you wasted your plus one on me.” You chuckled and looked at the glittering lights from the other buildings. “But I am seriously grateful for the help regardless.”

“It was not a waste,” he said without looking your way. He held up the glass and looked at the sparkly pink liquid inside. “You are the only one I am interested in attending this with.”

You sat up a bit straighter, but Viktor had his eyes glued on the glass. Your dress was a bit restrictive against your chest as your breathing got a bit rapid and your heart felt close to melting into a pile of goo. 

You couldn't quite bring yourself to ask the question if it was a date. That made it too real. Too embarrassing if you were reading too much into Viktor's kindness. But as you heard a few people around you get louder and check their watches—the commotion indoors carrying down the passage and outside—you had a different idea.

"Want to be my New Year's kiss, then?" You bit your lip as Viktor lowered his glass and finally looked at you. He was red all the way down his neck and you tried not to stare. "I'd say it's my favorite tradition, but I was never really able to do it the past few years since I've had to work. I'd love it. If you're interested, of course."

Viktor was quiet as he seemed to turn a few thoughts around in his head. Ones that kept turning and turning and turning until the chanting started. People around you grabbed each other’s arms and hugged close. Some downed the last of their drinks and threw their arms around their partners. 

You just sat your glass down by your feet and scooted a bit closer, giving Viktor the option if he wanted to. It was a fight to appear nonchalant, especially when he moved. He sat his glass down with a shaky hand and you were mentally counting down from ten as the rest of the attendees were. 

He had straightened by second eight. Scooted closer by six. Had his hand on your cheek by three. His hair was tickling your forehead by one. 

It was a sudden explosion of fireworks, the clock chiming, cheers, music, and Viktor’s mouth on yours. 

Then you exploded. Burst into a thousand different pieces as his mouth—soft and tasting like the fruity drink—lingered. Gentle and tender, his fingers skating across your skin so sweetly. Neither of you twitched at the fireworks boomed and crackled. Neither pulled back when the first minute of the new year hit. Neither stifled yourselves when your hand on his shoulder grabbed a fistful of his shirt and you deepened the kiss. 

Viktor's whole body shuddered and you tugged him closer. Your hand slid back to beneath his hair, and your fingers tangled themselves in his insanely soft hair. It was the first time you actually got to touch it. A weird realization that smacked you as Viktor broke to take a gasping breath. 

The second your eyes opened and locked, you had to make a split-second decision. There was zero hesitation as you grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled him back, mouths locked, pretending that the second and third minute were still the single second start. That even if the moment stayed on the balcony, you were going to make it last. 

You, unfortunately, stopped when your hand skimmed over Viktor’s chest and fisted his shirt. It untucked just enough to expose some of his stomach and his hand that’d found its way to your leg accidentally shoved the slit all the way open. You both parted in equal time, panting and going for your clothing—Viktor retucking his shirt and you pulling your dress back over your leg.

“Happy New Year,” he breathed. He had a crooked smile as he pushed some fallen hair from his eyes. 

“Happy New Year, Vik.” 

You pressed your fingers to your mouth and smiled a few more fireworks went off, throwing a cascade of colors over Viktor. Each boom made your body tingle like the crackling fireworks and you wanted to remind the clock. Give yourself a few more seconds. More minutes. Hours. Days. 

Was this a date?

“My dorm’s close,” you said, adrenaline erupting like the sky. Smoke teetered out and fell into the city as the sparks disappeared. “You’ve been on your feet all night. Stay at my place.”

Viktor’s chest heaved as he straightened and rolled his shoulders. If he was flushed, you couldn’t tell. Reds, purples, pinks, and oranges were being thrown over him. They subdued whatever color might’ve been on his cheeks and turned him into a kaleidoscope of curiosity and brilliance. 

“Perhaps,” he murmured when there was a break in the fireworks, “I will.” 

He licked the corner of his mouth before it parted and a breath puffed out in front of him. 

Another round of fireworks were going off when you and Viktor had gotten to your feet. Your hands intertwined as you traversed the balcony, hallway, the party. No goodbyes as you headed to coat check and the exit. No second thoughts as you rushed as quickly as the two of you could toward your dorm. 

Nothing except the rainbow spray of fireworks and the chokehold on Father Time.

Was it a date didn’t matter when you were fumbling with your dorm key and Viktor had hesitations about going into your room. Was it a date was arbitrary when the door closed, and you were guiding Viktor to your room, depositing his jacket and hat on your floor. Was it a date was thrown into the air and highlighted with fireworks, spotlights, and an amplifier as Viktor dropped his cane by your bed and fell atop it with you, mouth on yours. 

It bared no repeated as a shaky hand slid up your thigh and mouths peppered bare skin. It left you as a statement when he delicately removed the flower and sat it atop your desk before kissing you drunk. 

“It is a date,” you huffed as you jerked the buttons of his shirt undone. 

Viktor laughed. Relief. Utter relief as he unzipped your dress and kissed the corner of your neck. 

“Yes. Only should you desire it to be one.” He licked up your jugular and hummed. “I was not sure…you know…”

His words petered off into a sigh as you jerked his belt off. Thousands of hours spent with him. Thousands of hours listening to him talking to himself, to you, to others. Requiring your help, breaking away the ridgid awkwardnes and your own shyness. Feeling his hand on yours, his rush to you when you’d gotten hurt when helping him and Jayce. 

His hands on your shoulders first, then your hand. Instructed Jayce to fetch an ice pack as he gently held your hand and apologized for being careless. Ran his thumb over the unharmed patches of skin and looking at you with those brows pinched and worry settled deep in his features. Those eyes never left you until he made sure the burns hadn't been bad. 

You tried to tell him that they were just sparks—the burning would go away shortly. 

But he stayed. Slowly rubbed your hand, wrist, arm. Put some cooling lotion on it; gave you the ice pack just in case. Wrapped it in gauze and threw a pair of gloves at Jayce. 

He checked on you every day after that for a week. 

The start of the next week, he had a box of rubber gloves out and a special thick black pair he only pulled out for you. It was the pair he gave you wrapped in a little ribbon when you kept flinching at the sparks from their projects. Moving back even when you were out of reach. 

They had burned, after all.

“It’s a date,” you murmured as his slacks were tugged down. “It’s definitely a date, Vik.”

“Ah, good.” His fingers ran along the high band of your thong. “Makes this far more intimate.”

Fabric snapped. Moved. Fingers teased. Tickled sensitive skin until your dress was hanging from your chest and your back was arching. Legs parted, heels dug into your mattress, and the sounds turned vulgar as fingers curled and mouths kissed heated skin. Over your neck, collarbone, chest. Nipping and sucking, licking and tasting every gasp-inducing inch. 

Eyes burned, sweat cooled, and your throat went dry. It cracked with a moan as the billowy portion of your dress was shoved aside and bunched. As Viktor lowered and fingers stayed deep and his shoulders nudged your legs open. Over his shoulders and one pushed back before your breath was hitching. 

His hair was still soft, but your mind was far from them as your hips moved on their own. As you clawed and clawed and clawed at his scalp, chasing the twisting in your lower stomach. It spread over you like fireworks in the sky—a bright splatter of colors and heat, stealing away the air in your lungs. 

He sucked, licked, hummed. Pumped and curled. Kept those amber eyes glued on you as he pushed you closer to your breaking point. Your fuse was lit, and it was a mere matter of time before you erupted.

It came like the chime of the clock; hit you in waves that wracked your entire body. Trembling, tensing; you gushed until you felt it over your thighs. It glistened on Viktor’s chin and fingers and you couldn’t pay attention when it tore through you. 

Your body contracted and shivered. 

You pawed in the drawer beside your bed for that chrome wrapper before Viktor even lifted his head. 

A pillow found its way beneath your hips. The wrapper was discarded and applied with shaky hands. Cheeks were red and blushing as mouths connected—the kiss shifted to gasps when bodies intertwined.

It was a stretching and filling sensation as Viktor groaned. His hand intertwined with yours beside your head, his own hung in the crook of your neck. A shuddering breath as he paused immediately, whole body tense as he tried to steady his breathing. It fanned warm against your neck before kisses were left in its place. 

Then he moved.

Your back bowed as you threw an arm around him. Your nails dug into the back of his as he moved. You met him halfway as best as the position would let you, whimpering with each deep rut of his hips. Over and over, dragging and hitting along the spot inside you that had you crying. He angled his hips so it wasn’t the interior left teased. Every stroke grazed you sensitive and swollen. 

All until you couldn’t withstand it. Not from Viktor. Not when he, of all people, had tears streaming down your cheeks, your clothes shed and bodies pressed together. Your dress was still bunched, but it didn’t get in the way. The sound of skin against skin; wetness and desire mixing together like the sparkling pink drink of the evening. 

Your nails dug into more than the back of his hand as your head pressed back against your pillow. Your hips raised and Viktor cursed. A murmuring of your name—a plea. One left you, too, desperate and dripping with the ache for more. 

Just a little more.

You could've laughed. At yourself when you first met Viktor, when Jayce gave you and Vik shit, when you were alone in the lab with Viktor and you'd just stare. Would watch him with those big, starry eyes as he worked or talked to you, or simply shared the space. 

Was this a date?

Your back arched as the clock chimed and the fireworks burst in the sky. 

What a silly question. 

Viktor's grip tightened on your hand and his thrusts got deeper and harder. He grunted your name and nuzzled the side of your head. Kissed your cheek and leaned into your hold as his body tensed and he trembled. 

Anyone with a sense of foresight could’ve seen it was a date. He’d asked you to the New Year’s party, brought you a flower, danced with you. Kissed you for fuck’s sake.

You both huffed as you laid beside each other. Your hands stayed intertwined and heads leaned against each other. The sparkles in your dress caught in the moonlight as you kicked it to the floor and Viktor’s eyes got heavy. Yours did too. Not before you stole another look his way. 

Not before you stifled a laugh and rolled toward him, peppering a kiss to his nose. 

Was this a date?

It was.