#maysturbation2022

[heraldeez]

Synaptic Spark

Maysturbation Collab 2022

A/N: My section of the collab with @basichextechml, and @weltraum-vaquero, my beloveds.

Happy May, everyone; we decided to celebrate by writing copious amounts of masturbation. May-sturbation, even. My scenario is Viktor getting walked in on by the reader, and I couldn’t resist the allure of the Machine Herald. So y’all get to read the metal man shining his steel. Polishing his pole. Waxing his w-

I digress.

The others’ pieces will be linked at the bottom of this post, so go check them out! Hope you enjoy. <3

Viktor x Reader | 4.5K | NSFW

Warnings/Tags: masturbation, sex toys, unprotected PnV

Viktor scans over the tools spread before him, nodding succinctly in approval. His newest body augmentation was finally complete, and now, it was time to test its abilities.

An eclectic spread sitting atop his coffee table held everything he’d need for today’s experiment: some metal polish, lubricant, a few clean rags, and most importantly, the sex toy he’d devised for this specific purpose. It was a slide-lock mechanism, attaching around the head and base for continuous vibration, while the middle section could be slid up and down for friction stimulation.

He hummed, satisfied, as he flicked the device on to ensure it was working properly, promptly turning it back off after it had vibrated to life. This would more than suit his needs.

Though Viktor would normally perform such vital research in his lab, he’d decided that his small library was more suitable for this particular study. Though filled to the brim with books, it still had more room to sprawl out than his lab, constantly covered in sharp instruments and metal projects, both current and abandoned.

This room also had the benefit of a worn, comfortable sofa. Spreading out across it, his metal plating sinking heavily into the plush cushions, Viktor looks down to give his erection a once over.

His new phallus is a wonder of modern engineering, a combination of steel boning, synthetic skin, and delicate wiring capable of carrying sensation far quicker and clearer than any organic nerves. Additionally, he’d crafted it to be appealing enough to look at - potential partners likely wouldn’t complain.

Briefly, Viktor contemplates what you might think of it, were you to see him like this.

Thoughts of you lingering behind his eyes, Viktor spreads his legs and gently drags one finger from the base of his cock to the tip, sensation whirring to life. The pleasure is just as he’d remembered it, but better, intense from the very start. A groan rumbles from his throat at the light touch, the synthetic skin needing no ramp up time to send electricity zinging through his limbs.

With practiced fingers, he adjusts the runework engraved in the vee of his metal musculature, fingers activating and deactivating runes across the flat plane just above his cock. With each adjustment, the pleasure shifts up and down in intensity; satisfied that everything is operational, Viktor dims the pleasure threshold to the point of non-recognition, for testing purposes.

He trails his index finger over his member in the exact same manner as before, pleased to find that the touch was no more pleasant than a mere touch on the arm.

Wrapping his fingers around himself properly, Viktor gives himself a firm stroke from base to tip, fingers tighter than would be comfortable on any average human. There’s no noticeable reaction to the friction, and Viktor closes his eyes in triumph, thoughts turning back to you. Like this, he could pour his efforts into you all night without ever getting close; railing you for hours, endlessly, pushing the limits of your pleasure until you were brought to mindless, pleading overstimulation in his arms.

Though no closer to his peak, for lack of stimulation, Viktor can feel the arousal building at the mental image of you, staring up at him with pleasure-glazed eyes, sweat-slick and used.

He frowns. Imagining you seems to be skewing his test results, but he was having difficulty pushing the thoughts from his mind. You had vexed him like this from the moment he’d gotten to know you, always creeping into his thoughts despite his best efforts, inevitably at the most inopportune moments.

Taking a deep breath, he releases his grip on himself and lays back, head propped on the arm of the couch and legs tossed over the other end. Forcing his mind blank, Viktor swiftly flicks over the runework once more, amplifying the pleasure to its highest setting.

With a bolt of pleasure rocketing up his spine, Viktor’s hips jackknife off the couch violently when he rubs his thumb carefully over the head of his cock, instantly yanking his hand away to smack against the coffee table with the sharp sound of splintering wood. His other hand shoots up, too late, to clap over his mouth, a debauched noise of absolute hedonism tearing itself - at impressive volume - from his throat, unbidden.

For a moment, Viktor can only stare up at the ceiling, breathing raggedly against his palm. The pleasure is still echoing, clanging through his limbs and goading him to pursue more. Raw heat radiates across his pelvis, his cock throbbing as slick beads up at the head.

Slowly, he pulls his hand from his mouth, dragging it down to rub at his throat. Viktor wasn’t sure he’d heard his voice spike so high-pitched before, the metal chords in his throat pulled tight and heated under layers of delicate metal plating.

The whine that crawls up his throat vibrates against the pads of his fingers when precome leaking from the tip of his dick wells up and spills over, drawing a wet trail down the underside of his cock. Even the tiniest stimulation is tearing through him, making his member twitch in need and draw forth even more slickness. A positive feedback loop, perfectly set to draw him to orgasm at the slightest provocation, out of his control.

Perhaps the top setting was a touch dangerous.

Swallowing thickly, Viktor adjusts the sensitivity back to a more average level, fumbling over the bowed coffee table for a clean rag to wipe away the slickness. With dry fingers, he takes himself in hand once more to test the difference in texture, hissing slightly at the tight, dry stroke. Friction that would normally be uncomfortable immediately melts into pleasure, nerves having been tweaked to respond positively to any sort of stimulation.

Stroking slowly, his mind wanders back to you, how your shirt had ridden up the other day. You had bent over to set down the books he’d asked for, the fabric of your top slipping up just enough to reveal a sliver of skin to his gaze. The sight of you, bared for him, even for just the second it took you to place the books and readjust yourself, had wedged itself in his mind like a stubborn bramble, digging itself in deeper the harder he tried to dislodge it.

He’d wanted to rub himself against you like that. Press himself underneath the hem of your shirt and rut until he was leaking, slicking the way personally. Pre beads up again at the thought of marking you, rubbing his essence into your soft skin until you’re slick with him, and suddenly the dry pressure isn’t enough.

The coffee table creaks in complaint when Viktor’s palm slaps against it - again, too hard - in search of the bottle of lube, fingers stalling as they pass over the toy.

He had intended… further study with his hand first. A strict, scientific comparison of dry friction versus wet.

But at this point, he was aching, quite literally, to test the most important metric of this new body part’s success: the potency of its orgasm.

Impatiently sweeping the hair out of his eyes, Viktor pours a slick stream of lube over his cock, watching as the sheen of the metallic ridges intensifies with the added liquid. For a moment of weakness, he hopes fervently that you would find the view arousing.

Thoughts of you don’t leave him as he lubes the toy in quick, jerky motions, index finger swirling slickness over the squishy inner silicone rings, restlessly imagining how your entrance would feel around his fingertips.

Sliding the toy into place, affixed snugly at the head and base, Viktor’s breath leaves him in a rush, head lolling back against the arm of the couch. How might it feel, to slide inside you instead?

His cock throbs in his grip as he begins to slide the toy along its length, leaking amply as he thinks of all the ways he’d seek your orgasm, pleasure suffusing through his whole body. Urgent fingers flick its switch, vibrations loudly purring to life, and his throat clicks on a harsh swallow as the pleasure multiplies, weighting his limbs with a sweet numbness, perverse images of you flickering behind his eyelids.

The vacillation of the upper ring is stimulating his frenulum just so, throat rumbling a deep, resonant groan, slick noises of the slide ring and the loud vibrations echoing alongside it in his ears.

By comparison, the click of the doorknob unlatching is quiet, door softly sliding open.

“Viktor, where-”

You jump when your eyes land on him, his hand going still on his newest augmentation.

The moment drags, tense and suspended in time, two sets of wide eyes locked on one another.

Perhaps in years past, Viktor would have been mortified. Launched into hiding himself, panicked at being seen in such a compromising state, apologized for subjecting you to such an uncomfortable situation.

He’d done away with panic response and social expectations long ago. Instead, he breathes in the stillness of the moment and revels in the chance to study you.

You don’t look uncomfortable.

Eagerly, he catalogs your blown out pupils and elevated breathing, memorizing the way your lips had parted ever so slightly as you took in the expanse of his body. He notes with especial delight that you had leaned forward in your surprise, seemingly drawn towards him, rather than fleeing at first chance.

All signs pointed to you being aroused, not disturbed.

For so long, Viktor had felt hollow. Alone. Years of his life spent staving off the desolation that came from being him. Eventually, he’d succeeded in distancing himself so far from his emotions that he’d assumed he could never return.

And yet, from the very start, you had treated him well, kind and friendly and persistent, sparking a yearning ache in his chest that he couldn’t extinguish, no matter how desperately he tried to snuff it out, fearing the moment he would get scorched. Or worse, the moment it would die out without fuel, leaving him alone in the cold despite his best efforts.

Looking at you now, Viktor couldn’t help but worry that he’d unknowingly left you in similar straits, yearning endlessly just out of reach.

“You are… early,” is all he can think to say.

Perhaps not that early. He’d been expecting you in the evening, bearing a rare tome on the metallurgic practices of a certain clan of long-eradicated Freljordian smiths. Judging by the light slanting in through the dusty window, it was at least late afternoon. This experiment had taken longer than he expected.

As though you’d been reanimated by his voice, you jolt into motion, stumbling back a step on legs locked tight with embarrassment. He could spy the tome he’d been expecting, clutched tight to your chest. The panic was obvious in every tense limb, so different from his own reaction. Unaugmented, you were undeniably different from him, and it was endlessly fascinating. He wanted to explore you more thoroughly than any experiment he could dream up, drag his understanding of you further. Perhaps, in time, you could understand him as well.

“Viktor!” Your voice is high and breathless, a startled bird exploding into flight. “I - I am so sorry, I should’ve knocked, I just - You weren’t in the lab, and I mean you’re always there, so I just kinda came looking - “

His cock throbs, still encased in silky wetness, at just the visual stimulation of you, standing uncertain and rambly in the doorway. The mere proximity to you seems to be goading his arousal on, synthetic nerves hyper-sensitive as though he’d cranked up the intensity to max again. Your eyes are cast to the floor in embarrassment, likely trying to afford him some privacy, but his chest is blistering with the desperate need to have your gaze locked on him again.

“This experiment was more suited to the library.”

As though the gods were answering his wishes, you look up at that, eyes that had captivated him for months meeting his own. “You’re… experimenting?”

“Yes. I’ve recently augmented the nervous system and hardware of my genitalia,” Viktor confirms bluntly, watching you swallow as you listen raptly. “I’m testing the potency of orgasm.”

Your gaze feels as powerful as a physical caress, eyes sliding down his body and setting him alight along their trail, desire threatening to subsume him as your focus settles undeniably on his lap.

“Though, I fear the experiment may be a touch flawed.”

“Flawed?” you echo, attention stuck on the toy cradled in his hand, and what lies beneath.

“To truly push the extent of pleasure,” Viktor begins, trying to keep his voice level and even, as though he were talking about nothing more than another hypothesis on a chalkboard, “it would make more sense to achieve it in the most optimal conditions, no?” Viktor slowly begins to flick his wrist again, noting with satisfaction the way your pupils follow every movement, captivated. “Not with a mere toy, but with a partner.”

Your eyes shoot up to meet his own, somehow more searing in the innocent eye contact than they had been while staring directly at his crotch.

“Perhaps… you would be willing?”

Viktor hasn’t hoped for something so fervently in years. It is folly, to set himself up for failure by pinning hope on what is wholly in another’s control.

As he sits, waiting for your judgment, all he can think is that even if you decline, he doesn’t want you to leave forever. Though he’s almost certain he hasn’t misread your interest, it wouldn’t be the first time he had misunderstood what he had assumed to be a sure bet. It would be devastating to lose you completely over something like this.

Things have a habit of going awry for him, but for you, he can’t help but take the risk.

The way you immediately stumble further into the room, hastily swinging the door shut behind you - too loudly in your eagerness, if your wince is anything to go by - is answer enough for him.

Viktor discards the toy in an instant with a slick noise, rolling to his feet in one fluid motion. Legs carrying him swiftly across the room to meet you, he decides that his very first priority will be to finally, finally kiss you.

“Wait, Viktor, just-”

He freezes at your words, still a few feet out from you.

So much for not being too hasty in assuming success.

Perhaps you had changed your mind, in the past second. Or you hadn’t intended to accept in the first place, merely shutting the door to reject his advances in private - though private from whom, he wasn’t sure, you being the only person who regularly visited.

Or perhaps… his augmentations were just a bit much for you, in full view.

Viktor was confident in his evolution - his body was stronger, sturdier, better. All his functions had been augmented to peak performance in cast metal, the fragile mechanisms of the body laid bare and then ruthlessly improved upon.

But so many before hadn’t understood. They couldn’t see the necessity of improvement. Not even the rare few who had been closest to him.

He didn’t want you, of all people, to shun his greatest work. Especially considering that it was simultaneously his life’s ambition and his very self. He had hoped, against everything that had convinced him to harden his heart, that you would try to understand him.

Your hands clutch nervously at the book, but your eyes aren’t shying away from his. “Is this - Is this a one time thing, just for your study? Or do you mean it, when you say ‘partner’?”

His fears melt away when your voice dips quiet and breathy on your last word, anxious and hopeful and imploring all at once.

You want him.

He’s never been more certain of any person’s intentions in his life, and he can’t hide the extent of his desires in the face of his revelation. “I mean it. I have wanted you. Shamefully so, for ages.”

He pauses, drinking in the way your shoulders slump in relief, before he clarifies, “I don’t just want you the once. As many times as you will give yourself to me, I will greedily accept. I want everything you have to offer, and more. Of course - this extends both ways.”

Baring the whole of his concealed yearning, opening himself to your reaction, is scraping his nerves to shreds with an intensity almost unfamiliar, and Viktor can’t bring himself to meet your eyes. He twists his fingers together, voice losing all its strength.

“Everything I have to offer, yours.” He takes a fortifying breath. “I am yours, for as long as you will have me.”

He doesn’t have to look at you to hear your pleased exhale and the sound of the book in your arms being set aside, feet edging closer to his. “As long as I want?”

He nods once, and your fingers slide under his chin, tilting him to meet your gaze. Your glowing smile is like a touch of divinity, a soothing balm for any lingering doubts he might have carried.

“I trust you’re a man of your word, even if I decide to say ‘forever’?”

Viktor is moving before he even realizes it, swiftly pulling you into his arms. You feel perfect there, like two pieces of machinery interlocking flawlessly, the feeling magnifying as you wrap your arms around him in return, cradling him against you.

The spark of his desire for you has developed into a conflagration without his carefully tended control on it, and all he can think is how grateful he is, to finally have you.

All at once, the realization of just how intimately he’s about to have you washes through him, pulling back enough to look into your eyes. Like this, his lips are barely a hair’s breadth from yours, desire urging him to hurry and claim them. But more importantly than wanting to kiss you, he wants you to want his kiss.

A breathy noise of relief escapes his throat when you are the one to press in, his eyes shuttering closed at the sensation on your lips meeting his own, sweet and exploring. Viktor feels as though he is melting into your embrace, joining you wholly.

All at once, he finds himself ravenous for more, the extent of his success goading him to hoist your legs around his hips, kisses turning deep and needy as he braces you between his body and the wall at your back. You shift your legs tighter around him, letting out a surprised keen against his mouth as his erection rubs at the crook of your thigh and hip.

The rough texture of your pants sets him alight, friction overloading the sensors after being ignored, Viktor settling into a rough grind against you. His tongue traces yours, reveling in your taste and feel, when your hand reaches down to rub tentatively over the head of his cock, fingers tracing delicately over the head of him.

He breaks the kiss with a groan, mind going white briefly at the feeling of your skin being truly pressed to him. You were touching him, with intent to pleasure him, and that alone was enough to rattle his rationality.

Desperately, Viktor yanks open the fastenings of your pants, hands sliding around to pull them far enough up your legs to expose you to him, pinning you tightly against the wall to keep you from slipping.

He sucks in a shaky breath as his thumb grazes over you, spreading you just enough to feel your slickness on the pad of his finger. You whine when Viktor focuses his attention on your clit, rubbing circles as he tries to regain some composure, reeling at how appealing you sound while being pleasured. All the times he had imagined it, and none of them could even begin to compare.

“May I enter you?” he asks, eagerly watching your expression.

Your face is twisted in pleasure as he continues to stimulate you, and you nod slowly, eyes sliding shut. Viktor drags his thumb down, sliding it inside you to the first joint.

You’re wet around him. Just the warm, slick slide of you against his finger is threatening to shatter his composure.

Viktor can’t even decide where to begin. A million dirty thoughts flood through his brain, urging him to put his mouth to you, spread you wide on his fingers, explore you, but before he can act on any of them, you’re whispering a hoarse “please”.

Arousal snaps through his brain like a cord pulling taut, pulling his thumb out instantly to spread your legs wider, cock nudging at your folds.

The first smear of your slick to his cockhead is addictive, pleasure spiking through him as he rubs against you once, twice, before the tip catches at your entrance.

He can feel himself leaking against you already, essences mingling, and his augmentations throbs with it, eager to leave its mark.

Viktor presses in slowly, and the world fades away. 

The only sensation he can focus on is where you’re pressed against him. Where you’re surrounding him, tight and slick and overwhelming. The silky pressure of you, wrapped up around the head of his cock, sends stars shooting behind his eyes, pleasure only escalating with each millimeter he feeds inside.

Your brow pinches slightly, and he pauses.

Perhaps he should have made the augmentation smaller? Viktor hadn’t truly considered that he might get to have you like this, so he hadn’t really thought to ask. He really should have accounted for personal preference though, maybe included… retractability, or - or even removable links-

All thoughts of augmentation are effectively banished from Viktor’s mind when you whine, wriggling your hips restlessly against him. Gods above, you feel entirely too good around him, clenching and wet.

“If - If it’s too much, we can stop,” Viktor breathes, kissing messily at your cheek. “Don’t push yourself-”

“It’s good,” you insist quickly, drawing in a shaky breath, “Just- just big. Like I can feel every last ridge.” Your head leans back against the wall, eyes squeezed shut as you roll your hips, coaxing him in further.

“... I’m glad you, eh, appreciate my handiwork.” Viktor returns his thumb to rub circles against you, reveling in your moan of appreciation. “Should I-”

“Keep going.”

He releases a shaky breath, hips twitching forward.

When he’s finally pressed in to the hilt, it’s all Viktor can do to stay still and not immediately ramp into a pace that’s absolutely ravenous for you. Every inch of him is encased in the most tantalizing pleasure he’d experienced, overwhelmingly caressed by pulsating heat, and he’s only faintly aware of the way he’s panting against your shoulder in need, breath shaky.

He throbs when you grind gently against him, rubbing yourself on his pelvis, texture of the runework making you sigh in pleasure.

Eager to please you more, coax more of your reactions out for his personal study, Viktor obliges you with movement, dragging himself from your heat before slowly rolling his hips back inside, slick friction sparking along his length.

A few more thrusts, to warm you up, before he carefully begins to pivot his angle, searching out the spot inside that will bring you the most pleasure, to compliment the friction he’s giving you with his thumb. Viktor carefully watches your expression, delighting as he notes your eyes have grown hazy and you’re biting at your bottom lip. He presses a kiss there, causing you to release it, hoping that it will force you to release your noises for his perusal.

Teeth form a feral grin when he brushes against something that has you sucking down air, thighs locking as tight as your organic limbs can manage around his hips.

From there, his augmentations prove themselves a hundred fold, working himself inside your tight heat, targeting the area that pleases you with absolute accuracy. The pace spirals into base ferocity rather quickly, he can admit, until you’re crying out as he moans into your skin.

Between his length and the fingers delicately stimulating your clit, you’re clenching against him in no time, voice raising in ecstasy as Viktor works you through your peak. The feeling of you clutching desperately around him in orgasm stokes the flames within to a blazing roar, desperately working himself inside you, synapses firing, chasing his own end.

The tightness in Viktor’s metallic ligaments flexes taut, and bliss floods through him so potently that his mind goes blank, pleasure so blindingly pure that it sears all thought from his mind, erasing any turmoil and leaving only a sense of clear headed lightness, peaceful and still.

It’s warm. It’s overwhelming. It’s everything.

And through it all, there’s you.

Viktor’s eyes slide open languidly, and he marvels, detached, at the tears that slide from his bottom eyelashes onto your cheekbone, shimmering like a gem next to eyes that seem to look up at him in equal parts concern and adoration.

If he’s being optimistic, he’d say your gaze is almost… loving.

Cradling you to his chest, the world’s most precious cargo, Viktor slowly sinks to his knees, breath regulating slowly but surely, breathing in your air as his nose brushes against yours. Your hands are looped around his back, soothing hands rubbing reassuring circles into the plating of his shoulder blades.

“That was the most incredible thing I’ve ever felt,” Viktor whispers, lips brushing against yours with each word. He can feel your smile as you lean up to press messy kisses to his mouth.

Viktor indulges you, kissing you until you let out a contented sigh, before pulling back to fix you with an intent look. “I would greatly like to feel that again.” His alterations left his refractory period almost nil, and already he could feel desire blooming in the depths of his hips, cock still nestled inside you. “I want to test if it can make me black out.”

Your eyes are wide, but a grin slowly breaks out on your face as you give him a nod.

—

Approximately fourteen hours later, Viktor scoots to the edge of the couch and stretches his arms above his head with the satisfied creaking of metal, drawing in a nice deep breath. Behind him, boneless and sticky, you ineffectively catch your breath buried face down in the couch cushions.

Viktor hums, satisfied. “That should be all the tests I need on sensitivity… Now to start experimenting with functionality.” He reaches to the coffee table to pick up his notepad, rifling through the wrecked surface to find a writing utensil. “Tell me, how beneficial do you find vibrations to be when seeking orgasm?”

He halts his search for a pen at your muffled grumble, staring at where you are nudging his thigh with your toes.

It is by far the cutest thing he has ever seen. Viktor isn’t sure how he’s supposed to let you go home after this.

Especially not when he’s still aching to show his appreciation for you helping with his experiment so diligently, breath catching at the sight of you, bare and relaxed. Gentle fingers slide over the back of your legs, parting your folds to watch the slick mixture of your combined releases drip from you.

Your whimper is equal parts pleading and intoxicating.

Perhaps he should fetch you a glass of water first.

---

In the Doghouse by @basichextechml // Reader caught by Viktor

Amplitude and Frequency by @weltraum-vaquero // Jayce caught by Reader

[basichextechml]

In The Dog House // May-sturbation Collab 2022

@thedreamlessnights , @dicax-asina , @heraldeez , and I may or may not (haha funny) have put together a collab affectionately titles May-Sturbation. Get it? cause it’s about masturbation and it’s in may???? We’re here everyday folks- anyways, if you enjoy the premise please go check out their fics for this collab that’ll be linked at the bottom of the post <3333

Viktor/Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit // 1.6K Words // Reader is AFAB, uses she/her, and is referred to as wife, Mutual masturbation, Vaginal fingering, Angry sex (sort of)

It had been a month since Viktor last touched you.

Well, six weeks and four days, but who’s counting?

---

This was all Viktor’s fault.

Everything, all the time, no matter what- but especially now. 

It was all his fault it was your hand between your legs, and not his. It was all his fault that you were whimpering to an empty room and not into the crook of his neck. It was all his fault that you were alone, because he’d rather have his fingers knuckle deep in some stupid project than you.

You had been understanding at first; how could you not be? When he looked at you with stars in his eyes, detailing all the plans he had to make the world better. So you bit your tongue and curbed your urges when he said he’d be busy for the next few weeks, coming home in the wee hours of the morning only to leave again when the sun rose. The only proof of him being home is the lingering warmth on his side of the bed and the contents of the fridge being moved. 

A few weeks, he said. Absolute bullshit, you thought, your fingers dipping between the apex of your thighs. A practiced motion that once would have been satisfactory — no, pleasurable — now hollow. Viktor truly had ruined you for anyone else, even yourself, because even as desperate as you were, the fact that you knew your hand wasn’t Viktor’s stayed at the forefront of your mind, dulling any sense of pleasure. 

You huffed, shucking off your pajama pants and hiking up your shirt to spread your legs further. This wasn’t just mindless touching, you needed this. 

It had been a month.

And that was you being generous, the calendar marked 6 weeks and 4 days since the last time Viktor had touched you in any way that wasn’t a peck on the cheek as he settled into bed or a hand on your hip when he was getting up. You needed him, and he was still in that fucking lab. 

What had once been a pool of sadness boiled into a rage, climbing up your throat as you gathered more of your wetness onto your fingers, trailing through your folds to massage at your clit. The jolts were small and absolutely maddening, keening your head back and closing your eyes in an attempt to focus on what little satisfaction you were receiving. But even as you sped up your wrist and tried to imagine someone else- it only felt okay.

“Viktor-” You sighed into the room, both in longing and dissatisfaction. Your fingers were wrong, the pressure was wrong, the technique wrong- wrong, wrong, wrong. And he wasn’t here. No one to whisper in your ear, telling you how much they loved you as they worked you over the edge. No one to hold onto and kiss as you pleased. No one at all, because the one person you wanted wasn’t there.

“Viktor- you bastard-” you hissed, fingers speeding up as your back curved inwards- the worst orgasm you ever had slowly creeping up on you at a snail's pace.“You fucking bastard-”

“Honestly, not the name I was expecting, but if that would be something you’re willing to try-” 

You were going to kill him, honest to the Gods. You’d be on trial by tomorrow, your photo in the paper, and a lawyer by your side. You’d plead on grounds of insanity, because he truly was driving you fucking insane. 

“Although I feel as if you’re getting on quite well without me?” Viktor teased, a brow raised as he entered your shared room. Underneath the tired bags and his pallid complexion from overworking himself, there was a certain hunger in his eyes that you’d only seen directed at you. There were few things you wanted to do more in that moment than give in as he stalked towards you, loosening his tie and stripping his sweater in a preliminary effort of what was to come. And as much as you wanted to welcome him with open arms (and open legs), those small flickers of rage lived on.

You’d read stories of tiny little stovetops burning down forests, their meager beginnings spiraling into a blaze that brought down even the biggest of trees. You wondered how they could do it- thriving beyond the greater forces. But you understood now, because that small ember of rage began to grow as Viktor approached.

He had to learn.

Viktor was halted in his tracks by your foot connecting to his chest, keeping a distance between you.

“No touching.”

“But I-”

“You don’t understand, do you?” You bit out, holding steady as you licked across your fingers and brought them down between your legs. It was better- felt better now that you knew he was watching, “you don’t get to leave your wife all alone for a month and expect her to be happy, do you?”

“Well, no, and I understand that-”

“I’m not finished yet.” You could see Viktor gulp, eyes darting between your legs and up to your face, then back down again. His face was flushed, and his pants were already growing a tent, the poor thing, but he messed up. He had to pay for it, “I had to take care of myself, Viktor. All alone, no one to help me, take care of me, no one for me to take care of.” You suppressed a whine and a jolt of your hips as your fingers traveled lower, subsequently drawing Viktor’s eyes with them. Brushing your entrance, you dipped in for a moment before pulling out again and holding up your fingers. The cool air chilled your wetness as you spread apart your fingers, the gossamer strands stretching before snapping. Viktor let out a shuddering sigh at the sight, hands coming up to grasp at your ankle, begging silently for you to let him come closer. 

He began to plead his case.

“I know I haven’t been home a lot lately-” doing well, “but-”

You huffed, kicking your foot forward slightly before pulling away, your soiled hand gripping into the sheets. 

“Sit.”

And he did. He knew he’d be in the dog house at this point, he might as well mitigate whatever punishment you have in store. The moment he took one step forward, you scooched one foot back, until your shoulders were flush with the pillows, and he was finally perched on the foot of the bed. Viktor kept moving though, his hands trailing up the bed, and only when they reached the inside of your knee did you stop him.

“I thought I said no touching? You’re going to sit there and think about what you’ve done, while I get off the way I've had to for the past month.”

It was a lie, you hadn’t even tried touching yourself lately, always hoping Viktor would be home soon, but never was. But Viktor didn’t have to know that, especially not as you spread your legs again, feet planted firmly on the bed and out of Viktors reach. It was nearly impossible, seeing Viktor like this. His face pink and eyes lidded, staring at you as if he’s Eve and you’re the apple, ripe and tempting — wondering how you’d taste on his tongue. With every touch, every mewl, every jolt, you could see the way Viktor strained — in multiple ways — to hold himself back, his fists clenched tightly in the sheets, lower lip between his teeth. 

You sighed airily, an act of nonchalance betrayed by the shake of your fingers and the arousal between your legs. Your tone held a vibrato that continued to defy you, “can’t you see how you’ve neglected your wife?” 

He wetted his lips slightly, pupils blown, “Yes, I-I see, I’m sorry,” He groaned, eyes still on you and your little show as his hands slowly drifted to his belt buckle. You only heard the soft clink of it being undone as you slipped two fingers inside yourself, eyes fluttering shut at the reprieve. You weren’t full, no — not by any means — but the way Viktor’s fingers curled around himself, dry and undoubtedly a bit painful, had you feeling whole.

You picked up the pace alongside him, thrusting your fingers in and out of yourself at an angle that had you keening, the soft feel of your walls and the heat being zapped through you causing a sweat on your brow, falling into your eyes. Lidded eyes looked at your husband, and he found your own, hips jerking awkwardly in time with his own hand, his hand working in time with yours, a perverted little dance you both engaged in as you sought your own highs while focusing on the others’. Inching closer, spreading wider, going faster — all things that should’ve been for you affect him more, hitching his breath and stuttering his hand, a soft schlick shlick shlick echoing through the room. 

“Please,” He begged, voice slurred, and frame wobbling, “Please can I- please?”

Small mercies.

“Go on- cum for me.”

He jerked himself through his climax, small moans falling from his throat, his hips stuttering — practically rutting — against the sheets as he stained them with his cum. At the sight, you felt a familiar rush creep up on you, washing over your toes and enveloping your senses until you rode out the wave alongside Viktor. Your head fell to the pillows, body sticky and aching, and despite it all, unsatisfied.

Viktor stripped himself, and discarded the top blanket on your bed, now soiled, in the laundry right next to his work clothes, wedging himself next to you, gently kissing across your face, “ ‘m sorry, I promise, I will never be away from you like that again.”

“You’ve got the weekend here, right?” you asked, letting the hope slip through your words.

Viktor smiled softly at your excitement, pressing one last kiss to the tip of your nose. “Yes, all weekend.”

“Good,” You said, that hope turning into confidence, “Because you’re going to start making it up to me right now.”

---

Roomates by @thedreamlessnights // Reader gets caught by Jayce

Synaptic Spark by @heraldeez // Viktor gets caught by Reader

Amplitude and Frequency by @dicax-asina // Jayce gets caught by Reader