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caitlynbuceta · 1 hour ago

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the magic of a midnight sky

Viktor x fem!Reader (SFW)

Synopsis: After seeing that your old TA's research project has its own exhibit, you can't help but attend. And maybe, just maybe, you'll run into him while you're there. Just to say hello, of course.

Warnings: no plot just fluff, vik is a really soft and sweet guy, soft & sweet flirting, first kiss

Word Count: 4k

A/N: It's Christmas Eve!! Just a small little sweet Vik fic to celebrate :) Happy Holidays, everyone! Hope you have a fantastic day :)

The extravagance of Piltover was rarely a surprise. It was simply a given. No matter where you went, there was a reminder of what the great city represented. Large strings of lights across the ceilings inside hotels that sparkled like the stars one couldn't see outside. Sharp static of the latest Hextech contraption set up in an office, library, store, bakery. The sweet scents of the baked goods wafted down the streets, mixed with the vehicles and the ships. Drove away what sat hundreds of feet below the uncracked surface.

That bright blue illuminated the sign above you, down into a miniature form; the hue was thrown across the banner with expert addition. Lights that served no purpose other than to simply light. They blinked and hummed, drawing in all the other wandering eyes and bringing soft oohs and awes with it.

Technology Through the Ages.

A rather straightforward title on Piltover’s behalf. But it drew in all the well-dressed eyes and plopped the coins onto the counter for a ticket. It was supposedly for a good cause–raise money for the Hextech program, so that’s why you were there. To see what was, what could be, and what will be. And to help a friend.

Nobody cared about the old pieces. The steam engine or the hand-powered radio. Old guns were kept in a locked case, swords too–as if those were some primitive ideas of weapons. A broken spotlight sat in its own case, another reminder of what used to be hanging from the ceiling above.

You glanced up, listening to all the shoes, heels, boots, and flats hitting the tile floor below. The exact same light hung just above you. Except it didn't have the iron color to the metal. It was a pristine, glinting gold. Like half of the light fixtures were. The rest were left to strings that encapsulated the entire exhibit. From entrance to–presumably–exit. They turned the world into something else entirely. One Piltover wished to create inside every space within its city. The cold air that many hid from with layers of expensive cloth and fur-lined coats snuck down the hallway and wrapped around your legs.

All the white in the room made it seem like snow had come for a visit.

The heat throwing itself through the vents turned it into summer.

You went to the next room.

Hextech was thrown across every available inch. Posters, designs, notebooks. The prototypes were left on podiums and display tables. Some encased, others available to test. To poke and prod. Only those deemed safe were available for use. Presumably. You ran your fingers over the staple symbol of the academy. Left raised in a thick piece of metal attached to every piece of Hextech material. Even the framed picture of the trio on the wall.

After their first successful attempt!

The cursive caption was just that. No names–everyone should already know their names. You could hear them talking about one of them not far behind you. The one on the far left in the picture–broad of shoulders, dark of hair, cleanly dressed with his sleeves rolled up on his thick forearms.

Jayce.

They knew the one in the center. Short and covered in tons of fur. Head of the academy. Everyone’s favorite Yordle. The one who helped start the whole project, well, approved it, anyway. Without his approval, all of this would’ve gone to waste. But, unlike Jayce, many knew his name for his status on the council and the academy. It was simply a given.

Heimerdinger.

Some knew who the third was. Not a lot, but some. Mostly students who admired Heimerdinger in one way or another. You felt your smile grow a little as you looked over him in the burgundy uniform. The ensemble was fairly put together–more so than Jayce’s. He leaned almost lazily on his cane, a thick book in his other hand, and his fluffy hair shoved back out of his eyes. A crooked smile made the corners of his eyes crinkle, and you could hear his laugh through the glass covering the photo.

You knew who Viktor was.

He'd spent the whole last semester helping Heimerdinger with his classes. Your mathematics course, specifically. Graded work, covered lessons Heimerdinger couldn't make, and held some hours for any extra assistance. Not many, since he was usually busy working on the next big technological boom with Jayce, but he still made time.

He might’ve been the reason you passed Heimerdinger’s course with an A+.

You would've passed with an A regardless, but his office hours were a little irresistible since you passed by the location every other day, thanks to a required research course. Besides, Viktor liked to help. Even if it was a simple question, he always had his door open, chair ready beside him, and a smile to greet you.

“I am surprised you came,” a soft voice snuck in beside you.

The bottom of his cane was protected, but it still hit the ground with a slight thud. A ring with a little Hextech ball was engraved on it, sitting right on his middle finger. The dark bronze still glittered like the rest of the room as he held onto the handle and pushed his hair from his face. The shorter strands always fell so easily. He was constantly shoving them back when he’d lean over to help you with your questions.

You watched his fingers comb through the strands, cheeks burning a little when your eyes fell, and you saw him looking at you.

"Heard there was a Hextech exhibit going on. Figured I'd stop by and see what the big deal was." You spun around and, a little dramatically, looked over the entire room. "It's impressive, but I still think being the only one to pass Heimerdinger's final with a perfect grade is even better."

“Bragging,” he mused, stepping forward to be beside you, “is unbecoming, (Y/N).”

“I know.” You looked up at the twinkling ceiling lights. “Really though, this is genuinely impressive, Viktor. You and Jayce are incredible.”

"Mm. Thank you." He rubbed the back of his neck and gave you that sweet, lopsided grin. "There are a lot of factors that have contributed to our research and progression, so I cannot take all of the credit."

“How modest,” you mused, eyes down at one of the journals left open to leaf through. The contents inside weren’t much more than notes associated with the devices long out of date already. But all the pages, as your thumb carefully moved the thin pieces over the loose thread of the spine, were filled with that familiar penmanship. The same one on all of your assignments for Heimerdinger’s class. On pages in your notebook where he’d expanded a problem, your own beside it, following his steps, solving the equation until he circled the correct answer with a smile.

You tapped a rough sketch of a refined engine. One that was a few feet away, bursting with steam. People gathered in front, pointed at it, and murmured amongst themselves.

“Very modest, I’d say,” you whispered, glancing back his way.

The faintest pink teased his cheeks. He rubbed the back of his neck again.

“You, um…” He laughed somewhat awkwardly, waving his hand in your direction. “You look very nice. I do not think I have seen you outside of the uniform before.”

You peered down at your dress, your laugh joining his. It definitely was one of the nicer dresses in your closet. Sleek yet eye-catching–one of the many Piltover ways. The rich velvet fabric was thick enough to protect you from the cold air without needing a jacket. Even with the open back where a golden metal stripe pressed down between your shoulder blades. It traveled down across your spine until the metal met dress, and a white mesh stretched out across where the skin was bare to the world, dazzling with snowflakes.

Gaudy, but there were those dressed even worse than you. Across the room, a man wore an actual golden star atop his head and a puffy green peacoat with white and gold pants. Someone else a few feet away was threatening to steal the show from him with snowflakes coming off of their eyelashes, high-waisted gold pants, and a silver top that almost looked painted on. It practically resembled ice–like the icicle earrings hanging down to their shoulders. They sparkled under every light in the room.

"Thank you." You flattened down your dress out of habit. Plus, your palms were feeling itchy, and everything underneath your skin was starting to feel warm. Very warm. You needed something to do with them, to distract yourself. "You look nice too. The sentiment goes for you as well, actually. Navy looks good on you."

It was Viktor’s turn to look down at himself. Out of everyone in the room, he seemed the most dressed down. Casual wear for most, beyond casual for some of the elitists. A dark blue sweater over a white dress shirt and khakis belted tight around his waist. His cane had a little Hextech ornament hanging off the front. A simple light blue ball attacked with a silver ribbon through a small hole added. It nearly sparkled just like the real deal.

His cheeks were an even deeper pink when he looked back up.

"Ah, well, academy rules. I pick my battles and found that one considerably pointless to waste the time and energy on." He came up beside you slowly, taking a turn at his journal. A small smile played on his lips as your shoulders bumped. Through the velvet sleeve, you swore you could feel the soft fabric of his sweater. The surprising heat was there, too. It came when his elbow bumped yours as he leaned forward, back curving as he took in his old notes. "But thank you."

His eyes danced over the pages with a sense of familiarity. Some of the pages were dated–it took place over the span of a few intense weeks roughly three years ago. But Vikor looked upon them fondly. Almost like he was looking for something new in old ideas. Something that he had that he wanted back. Or maybe the memories playing inside his head were just taking over.

You fixed yourself to ask him. He’d talked to you about it all before. How he and Jayce got started, his apprenticeship with Heimerdinger, sneaking into the academy to take courses. All of the hours that were put into Hextech. It was almost surprising he and Jayce were here. Based on how he described his schedule, when he wasn’t helping Heimerdinger, he was typically in the lab with Jayce, working, experimenting, trying. Hours upon brutal, ruthless, mind-breaking hours. Just to get the right thing.

Just to have people wave a hand at the old trinkets–their words–set up around the exhibit. Outdated and simple already. They saw nothing but what was ahead, what could be ahead for them. The next new light, vehicle, weapon, product. What fancy new thing could make their neighbors jealous? What boat could they climb onto and go brag about Piltover’s success to the natives in Ionia or Bilgewater?

Viktor never outright shared information on his studies, but he talked about the research. How extensive it was, how to better yours for your other course–even if he wasn’t supposed to be offering assistance for your other courses. He also wasn’t supposed to meet you in the library after your class to help you find a particular book, either. But what nobody found out wouldn’t hurt anyone. He did use an equation from his work to help with your own, though.

Many times.

Even if they were beyond complicated. But he took it slow. You’d lean over his desk, secluded in his small office, elbow to elbow, working. The back of his pencil would drag down your sheet as he went through detailed after detailed step, letting you watch him as his eyes stayed on the sheet. On his scratchy penmanship. Then he’d glance up at you, turn his attention right to you, a question poised on his tongue that you hadn’t heard. Embarrassingly.

But he’d give a shy little smile and repeat it when you asked.

Sometimes, if his hand bumped yours or his foot nudged yours beneath the desk, you’d have to ask him to repeat it again.

He always did.

After the semester ended, that was it. No reason to go to his office hours anymore–that was taking time away from other students. With your new set of extra courses, you couldn't spare the time to track him down, either. Let alone try to pretend you could keep up with the Hextech work enough to try and get a position helping him and Jayce out.

So when you saw the Hextech exhibit, you knew that was your opportunity. It'd been a few months since you'd seen him, and you hadn't even been sure he'd give you the time of day like this. At all. Yet, there he was, beside you, thumbing through his notes with that small smile. His arm nudged yours, his weight on his cane, and pitched toward you. The soft scent of magic coursed through the air around you as devices sparked blue.

A smile pulled on your lips. Viktor wasn't just coming by to say hello; he was staying. Staying beside you. Cheeks were pink, mouth smiling, and eyes soft as they glanced up just as the lights shut off. The main lights.

“Ah, come,” he murmured, and suddenly, your heart was in your throat. A large, warm hand brushed yours, then there were fingers lacing with yours. A gentle touch, then a tug. You blinked at the back of his head before you had to follow him. And you simply stared at his back as he tugged you this way and that. Away from the journal, from the rest of the people, from everything.

He was holding your hand.

Warm and rough, hours upon hours in the lab, turning the soft skin into textured callouses. The soft twitch of his fingers kept your eyes down where your hands grasped. The flicker of blue brought your eyes back up.

Near the back of the exhibit, away from all of the people, beside some tall potted plants where the lights across them dimmed and they framed you on either side–you stepped into place. A stage was formed at the front, and all eyes turned that way as the sharp cutting of a microphone turning on grabbed the last of the attention. Viktor still held your hand, but that wasn’t why you gave him the curious look.

He answered it with one word as Jayce walked out onto the stage.

“Watch,” he whispered.

He still held your hand.

Jayce tapped the mic playfully as you stepped a little closer to Viktor. Subconsciously, definitely. Getting to stand closer to him felt even better than when you were beside each other in his office. You weren’t just sitting next to each other here–his hand was in yours, his arm pressed against yours, and his voice was a quiet whisper that was even softer than it’d been in the library. This wasn’t a simple mathematics question you couldn’t understand. Although, if given the option, you’d talk his ear off about Hextech.

Why Viktor wasn't up on the stage with Jayce obviously wasn't answered as the man behind the mic started to speak. Soft hand motions directed attention to random prototypes around the exhibit. A killer smile made many blush and giggle to themselves. A few jokes brought laughter, and a profuse attempt at thanking everyone there in support made many feel gracious and satisfied.

And then, just as Jayce started to wind down his speech, Viktor slid his hand from yours. Jayce left your attention as your eyes followed Viktor’s hand into his pocket, around a very, very small device, and then his thumb on a button. Tiny and red, and it made a quiet click when he pressed it. As Jayce threw his arms up with a thank you, the whole room went pitch black. Not a soul could be seen; just the surprised gasps and shifting of feet told you how many people were in the room.

Viktor’s hand was back in yours a moment before the show started.

You caught a shy, nervous look your way as the room suddenly flashed blue. Blues, whites, silvers; a mystic edge fell around the space in a quiet projection. Sparks flew across the ceiling and became the stars the lights wanted to mimic. The prototypes turned to a soft hum that powered fake snow, producing dainty, sparkling snowflakes that gently drifted through the air. Spiked cocoa was brought around on silver trays illuminated in white and blue, the academy symbol pressed into the crystal glasses. And music…from a quartet you couldn’t find played soft, slow, enchanting music that turned the room into a whole new world.

“Oh, shit,” you muttered, not sure where to stand. “This is incredible, Viktor.”

“Yes, well, we were instructed to make the night rather memorable.” Pride filled his eyes to the brim as he looked up at the ceiling. That lopsided grin grew into a wider smile. A sweet smile. It made your heart flicker like the stars when his gaze fell to you and the smile remained. “I am happy you were here to see it.”

The room felt light all of a sudden. Dark and off and away. Left just you and Viktor alone, shielded from the rest of the city. Just the two of you out where the lights couldn't be found, and you could stare up at the stars. Maybe lay on a blanket, a soft pillow beneath your head, hands clasped, eyes locked on what the show so magically resembled. How many times had you mentioned to him during sessions that was one of your least favorite parts of Piltover? The lack of beauty where they tried to force it? The light cascading around the city and hiding the sky from prying eyes? The smoke trailing from the Undercity that the council refused to address and the clouds that often fell across the night sky?

“You wish to change the city?” he’d asked one session, pencil tucked behind his ear as you leaned back in the chair beside him. You’d long finished the question you’d needed help with, and now you’d just been stalling with pointless questions.

One that led down to why you were in Heimerdinger's class when there were far more forgiving mathematics courses and professors.

“Yeah,” you’d said, nodding. “Grew up on the outskirts before the city expanded. Really expanded. I went from stepping out into the forest every morning and searching for shooting stars to watching my neighbors get evicted, boutiques taking their homes, and food disappearing from my table. I could hardly see the moon some nights when the prestigious of the city hosted their extravagant events, spotlights thrown into the sky, booming music. I want to fix it. Make it what it used to be–the desire to build forward without crushing those who are deemed an inconvenience simply for existing in their path forward.”

A sudden wave of embarrassment slammed so hard into you, you’d nearly forgotten how to speak. It wasn’t uncommon to simply talk between the two of you during sessions, but you hadn’t intended to go there with it. You barely managed to flick your eyes up to him, teeth digging hard into your bottom lip as your eyes locked, and…and you didn’t see any mocking. Or confusion. Just a smile. A soft smile.

“If that makes sense,” you’d whispered, tacking it on far too late and a little too awkwardly.

“It does,” was all he’d said. But that smile stayed. And that smile lodged itself right into your chest with the force of a hammer against a nail. He leaned forward, hand resting on your shoulder blade as he positioned himself over your notebook. “Perhaps we ought to go over a few more problems. Just to be safe.”

You left an hour after his office hours had ended.

You didn’t do much talking about any problems, either.

"There is a lot more we can do with Hextech," Vikor said beside you; a nervous laugh followed his words as he looked around the room once more. "But…I know how Piltover works. One must make a flourishing splash to gather their attention. Next comes what will truly change the world." He lifted his cane up toward the ceiling. "It just must be done blanketed in magic and stars and endless snow first."

You just watched him. The way he looked at everything. How proud and yet analytical it all was on his sharp features. He still maintained the smile, but the gears were clearly turning in his head. And it might've been self-centered, but…no. There was no way this was in any way directly related to your conversation. That was putting far too much weight on one long conversation. He surely had endless of those, right?

Besides–

“I did not see the stars much growing up in the Undercity. Nor when I came to this city.” His smile faltered just a hair. He had his attention right back on you. “Did I do them justice?”

He blinked at you slowly, eyes going up from yours right back to the ceiling. The whole room seemed to simply stop as you stared at him. Your heart stopped, your breathing stopped, everything stopped. It felt like your world was going to burst into a thousand tiny different pieces, clinking against the floor, crushed beneath the unobservant heels of those around you. The cracking started down the center of your chest and spread out like a bolt of lightning, carefully tingling the tips of your fingers and the tips of your toes.

His smile was the crackling spark that shot through the air before a bolt illuminated the sky.

Where everything had suddenly stopped, it began. The room moved in a blur around you as you turned. His hand slid from yours, and a new warmth found itself against it. Between both hands. Your thumb wiped over the small mole beside his mouth, the sharp curve of his cheeks meeting your palms.

The quiet hum reverberated from his chest as your lips met his.

A rash move, considering everything. But a bet you were willing to take. One your body nearly burned to dust over. One that had your fingers skating back through his hair, gently digging into his scalp, feeling him shiver.

He kissed you back. Returned it without much more than a second to collect himself. His mouth turned into a smile, and his lips parted for you, his now free hand coming to rest on your back. Lower back. Where the mesh did nothing to act like any kind of barrier. Warm skin against burning skin. A gentle drag of his hand up and over the curve of your back until you stepped closer. Until your hands fell, and you added some fine wrinkles to his sweater.

“It’s incredible, Vik,” you murmured against his lips, pulling back just enough to glance up at the ceiling once more. “It’s beautiful.”

The stars spun–or maybe it was you–as Viktor's hand slid across your back once more. A dark red blush was visible even in the new dark lighting, and he looked beyond shy when your eyes found him once more. He looked over at the room, at the stage, at all of the prototypes. All of his heart and soul had been channeled into them, much the same way it showed in the magic projected into the exhibit.

“Wonderful.” He cleared his throat and ducked his head as a few people walked a tad too closely by you two. “Perhaps we ought to find somewhere more…private?”

The corners of your mouth twitched into a devious green you had no hopes of stopping. Your hands fell to his, and you tugged him back toward the entrance. Toward the hallway that branched off with endless doors and endless empty rooms.

Some were offices rather similar to Viktor's back on campus. Others were breakrooms with plush chairs and comfortable couches. With locks that would be easy to pick if they were even locked in the first place.

“C’mon,” you mused, tugging him in the right direction. “I know just the place.”

You just had to find the right one.

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caitlynbuceta · 1 hour ago

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➸ ask: “I will actually go insane if you do “kitchen counter makeouts” with Viktor (established relationship) pls”

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➸ pairing: viktor x fem!reader ➸ word count: 755 ➸ tags: mdni! semi-nsfw, no smut, kissing, fluff, established relationship, dominant viktor, no use of y/n. ➸ notes: i wrote this in thirty minutes. i’m so down bad. ask came from this prompt – tysm for sending! <3

“Viktor,” your voice, panicked, called from the kitchen. You were hovered over the stove, currently in the middle of a futile attempt at cooking a Sunday night dinner. You cut your finger twice already, and forgot an important step when putting the casserole into its dish – everything was falling apart.

The sounds of uneven footsteps and the soft tap of a cane came down the hallway, your lover pulling himself away from his work to check on you.

“What’s wrong?” His voice matched your own, hurrying to your side to see if you’d hurt yourself again. He looked over the empty stove, then to you.

“Sorry,” you smiled up at him, “false alarm.”

The man crinkled his nose, eyes narrowing, “You scared me, I thought you cut yourself again.”

“All good now, thanks to you,” you grinned, lifting your hand to reveal the two bandages that were wrapped delicately around your clumsy fingers. He couldn’t stay mad at you, not when your cheeks dimpled and your eyes sparkled at the slightest bit of attention received from him.

A heavy sigh left his lips, followed by the shake of his head, “I have to finish up my notes, can you let me know when dinner is ready?” He asked, eyes widening when your bottom lip jutted out in a big pout in immediate response.

“But the food is going to take at least twenty more minutes before it’s ready, can’t you just keep me company?” You asked coyly, bandaged fingers pressing to his chest and sliding up until they held his neck. Then, up into his hair, where they brushed through the brunet strands.

“Ah,” he hummed, cane discarded, so his hands could rest on your hips, “you miss me, no?”

“Maybe,” you shrugged, pulling him until your backside was pressed against the kitchen counter, and he leaned much of his weight against you, “or maybe I’ve missed your lips.”

You loved when you managed to wrangle a genuine smile out of Viktor, seeing his teeth flash from behind his lips as a rosy pink blush covered his cheeks. Oh, how that always filled you with butterflies.

It was obvious that he missed yours just as equally, considering your feet that were once flat on the ground were now dangling as you sat on the countertop. He’d pushed himself forward, forcing your legs apart as he gifted you with what you had been desiring.

Viktor’s lips pressed to yours, eager and needy. You whined at the sudden motion, lips parting just enough so he could slip his tongue between yours. Shivers ran up your spine, leaving a chill along your skin as his tongue tangled with yours. A fight for dominance that he won easily.

“Viktor,” you moaned, fingers tightening in his hair and eliciting a whimper from his lips that instantly heated up your once-cold body.

There wasn’t enough time in the world that could be provided to satiate Viktor on his path to experience everything with you. To taste every flavour on your tongue, like the glass of wine you had just finished, or to inhale the perfume that clung to your clothes and made you smell sickeningly sweet. The only scene that calmed his nerves.

He pulled his lips from yours, instead latching to your neck and nipping at the skin. He’d always been so damned good at kissing, leaving you a moaning, writhing mess with only his lips. Whether it was your jaw, neck or between your legs.

A particularly hard pinch of his teeth on your skin made you whine, and he hummed against your skin–licking.

Hands pressed underneath the hem of your shirt, nails grazing the surface of your skin until his fingers tightened around your hips. He forced you closer, room for you to roll your hips against his so you could chase the friction that your body craved so desperately.

“I’m not even hungry anymore,” you breathed out, eyes closed as your back arched when his tongue glided over your collarbone. Over another mark he’d left so greedily.

Viktor pulled back at your words, his hair messy and lips a tad swollen. You felt small under his gaze, feeling this way only when you’d riled him up enough.

“Then we should probably turn off the oven and head to bed, no?” He asked, a flash of lust flickering through his eyes.

The oven beeped when it shut off, and your moans carried through the apartment as you ventured far from the mess you dared to call a meal.

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caitlynbuceta · 10 hours ago

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goddess

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caitlynbuceta · 3 days ago

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Arcane Masterlist

Viktor x Fem!Reader:

A Theory (NSFW) - masterlist - Viktor has a rather interesting theory regarding you that he wants to discuss.

Every Lover is a Madman (NSFW) - mastertlist - A TA!Viktor college AU - Senior year, syllabus day, and your professor's assistant who is charismatic, attractive, and intelligent, is also utterly blind to why so many students keep asking him mundane questions. Except you. The one student who seems to go out of her way to ask Heimer for assistance and not him.

Keeping Inventory (NSFW) - pt one / pt two - You and Viktor work at a small bookstore together and things take a turn when the power goes out one winter night.

Good Boy (NSFW) - You peg Viktor. No plot. Just pegging.

His Majesty the King (Royal AU) - mastertlist - You're offered up as collateral when your family cannot pay the ever-increasing taxes the King has placed on the town. But when your path crosses with the supposed merciless King, he becomes much more than you ever expected.

Wet Dreams (NSFW) - Working alongside Viktor and Jayce meant you would occasionally (often) fall asleep in the lab. After spending a not unexpected night there, Viktor starts acting a little differently around you.

A Drunken Confession (NSFW) - pt two / pt three - After a night of drinking with the one man you’d never purposefully hang out with outside of the lab, you’re left curious when Viktor tells you that you may have said a few interesting things during your tipsy state.

Reciting Romance (NSFW-ish) - Viktor helps you practice for an upcoming performance. Romance isn’t exactly your forte and Viktor lends a hand in helping you get it.

Body Shots (NSFW-ish) - pt one - pt two - Viktor asks for help regarding how to do body shots and you decide to assist him.

Academy Excellence (NSFW) - masterlist - Tutor!Viktor AU - With only a few weeks left in the semester, you get help from your best friend's boss in an attempt to pass a failing class. One major problem: he's distractingly attractive.

Half of a Whole (NSFW) - masterlist - TA!JayVik - It's your senior year and you have a few goals for yourself. Ace your classes, survive graduation at the end of the year, and put yourself out there. You set your sights on the last one—specifically, on two very attractive TAs.

pure fucking sin (NSFW) - pt two - Pornstar!JayVik - Working as a magazine intern has its perks. You meet a lot of different celebrities for the job. But normally, you know who the celebrities are before you interview them. That's not the case when you're dragged to a party the day before you have to go home and spend the holidays with your modest and prudish family. Wonder what they'd say if they found out the two flirty celebrities you were interviewing ended up being adult film stars. Maybe you shouldn't be wearing the purity ring your parents gave you after all.

Aphrodisiac with Doctor!Viktor (NSFW) - Kinktober '22 - After you have a few shots of something weird in the Undercity, you go to your best friend to help figure out why you're feeling so weird.

A Moment of Reverence at the Midnight Clock Toll (NSFW) - afab!reader, she/they pronouns - Piltover Academy provides many outlets for under and post-grad students to network. One, of which, includes working the New Year's Bash every year to earn some extra money and network. But when you're not invited back your first year of graduate studies, an internship with an esteemed doctor seems out of reach. Until Viktor decides to lend a helping hand

the magic of a midnight sky (sfw) - viktor x fem!reader -After seeing that your old TA's research project has its own exhibit, you can't help but attend. And maybe, just maybe, you'll run into him while you're there. Just to say hello, of course.

A Study of Desperation and Denial (nsfw) - MadScientist!Viktor x fem!Reader - a fic from 2024 kinktober

Broken Control (nsfw) - Viktor struggles to hold himself together when you begin wearing short skirts around him. (x fem!reader) - a 2024 kintober fic

The Artifact (nsfw) - Viktor x fem!Reader - Vik's POV & a revamp of Broken Control. - a 2024 kinktober fic

Viktor x Male!Reader:

Riding High (NSFW) - pt two - After you discover your childhood friend Jayce introduces you to his new friend Viktor, it doesn’t take long to discover the little gig he has on the side to make some extra cash. And you can’t help but contribute to the project. Purely out of curiosity, of course.

Viktor x GN!Reader:

Clandestine Curiosities (NSFW) - pt one - pt two - pt three - extra - Professor!Viktor - After returning to Piltover Academy to start your senior year, you not only find your brother and his best friend in the midst of a disagreement, but the very same best friend teaching your psychology course. But that's not it--Viktor's also acting particularly distant towards you too. Now you have to navigate your second to last semester, fix your brother's friendship, and figure out why Viktor's being distant toward you. All without complicating things, of course.

Viktor's experiment with a robot takes a turn (nsfw) - from kinktober 2024

Prototype Testing (nsfw) - Researcher!GN!Reader x Volunteer!Viktor - from kinktober 2024

Off the Cuff (Viktor x Reader):

Teaching Viktor how to kiss - gn!reader

Random TA Vik thoughts - fem!reader - pt one / pt two / pt three / pt four

Shy Vik Doubting Himself - gn!reader

Edging Vik - fem!reader - pts one & two / pt three

Professor Viktor (SFW) - gn!reader - some more (NSFW)

Caught (NSFW) - gn!reader - pt one / pt two / pt three / pt four

Genre Discovery (NSFWish) - gn!reader - pt one / pt two

idk what to put this under but it's a mixture of Genre Discover and Royal AU

Pouring (SFW) - gn!reader

Drunk Viktor (SFW) - gn!reader

OnlyFans Viktor (NSFWish) - fem!reader - pt three / pt four

Tutor Viktor (SFW) - fem!reader feat. sexual tension - passing & celebrating / failing (but viktor is really soft)

mer!viktor (sfw) - pt two

Researcher!Vik (sfw) - gn!reader

Researcher!Vik (2) (nsfw) - mer!gn!reader

Holding Hands - gn!reader

TattooArtist!Viktor (sfw) - gn!reader

Art by Incredibly Awesome People:

Viktor & Reader (1) by Moon/@peppermintkisses

"I have a Theory" Vik by @vilijntje

Viktor & Reader (2) by Moon/@peppermintkisses

Viktor & Reader by @juminisdaddy

King Viktor by @arcanescribbles

(Find more fics here!)

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caitlynbuceta · 3 days ago

Note

do u ever plan to write for viktor from arcane? 👀

✶ — tinkering ; viktor / f!reader

summary: you’re the third founding member of hextech. you and viktor have a working relationship that’s blossomed into something a bit more lovesick.

word count: 1.8k

pairing: viktor / f!reader

a/n: i have been really pining for him these last few days so enjoy work-crush dialed to 1,000 on the mush level ft. jayce being the third wheel bestie we deserve. this gif is by @solidago-sempervirens‘s beautiful set here!

They're late.

When you spy only one of your two Hextech partners nearing, your jaw falls open slightly.

"Where's—?"

You don't even finish the question.

Jayce is clearly in a rush; he's just now — as he takes two plush, velvet stairs at a time — rolling down the sleeves to his dress shirt. He offers up his best apologetic look as he juggles his suit jacket. Despite your tiny twinge of annoyance that the two had left you to entertain the ravenously curious guests alone, you cave almost immediately when he peaks around your shoulder and curses at the full meeting hall.

Tucked in a back corner of the gilded, marble ballroom a string quartet plays.

"He's still downstairs," Jayce explains in a slight whisper as guests flow around you both; his warm eyes bounding from you to the guests and back to you; he clears his throat, "Tinkering — you know how he is... "

"Casting stones at glass houses are we?" you joke, exhaling as Jayce struggles into his suit jacket. You reach to smooth down his lapel, "Do I need to go and coax him out?"

"If I'm being honest I don't think he ever had any interest in attending," Jayce supplants between a rushed thank you, "I owe you."

"You do — now go, stakeholders are asking all sorts of questions... Mostly about when you'd show up," you wave him on as a waiter passes. You grab two flutes of champagne in a smooth move and offer your best smile in thanks. You turn back to Jayce, "Piltover's finest seem interested in you, poster-boy."

"Yea, well," Jayce rolls his shoulders and grabs a drink of his own — shedding his skin as an inventor in an uncannily seamless manner. Suddenly, he's giving you the smirk he reserves for the truest moments of camaraderie, "Don’t be long. And do give my love to Viktor."

You give him an unamused glare. The flat narrow of your lashes makes the man laugh into his drink. With a well-practiced eye-roll, you turn on your heel and move to descend the stairs to the main lobby.

"Don't let them eat you alive, Talis," you snark over your shoulder, unable to hide your evident smile.

"Let us pray they do!" he calls back at the sight of it digging into the corner's of your lips, “Don’t take too long!”

The delicate pluck of a violin's strings carries itself through the evening air. Through the courtyard, across the rotunda. You opt to take the long way around, lest you get suckered into another riveting conversation about trade taxation increases with some would-be politician in the lift to the lower floor.

With so many guests meandering around at the symposium above, they've left the lights on.

You balance the flutes of champagne neatly as you move easily towards the wing where Hextech has found refuge in recent months. With the Hexgates set to begin construction in a month's time, late nights in the these labs have become a regular occurrence. You've made this exact trek a thousand times — sometimes well beyond midnight, at the call of a dream; when magic carries a breakthrough on its wings.

Your heels click neatly across the floor — and you can see the glow of the lab alive beneath the heavy door barring entrance.

It's unlocked.

You bump the door open with your hip.

Viktor is — to Jayce's credit — tinkering.

He looks quite handsome.

He's wearing something different from his usual academic attire — something darker, with a wine colored dress shirt and an inky black suit jacket hung over his chair-back.

Immediately, the tinkering ceases. You note the very deliberate stillness of his hands when you poke your head around the door; your earrings sway and twing like bells in the evening air. Viktor's face lifts at your appearance; and for a moment, the schematics are forgotten.

Perhaps he should have gone upstairs.

"I've brought good tidings...?"

It's as if you're asking permission to pull him from his work. As if he'd ever say no.

Your humor eases the throat-catching hitch of his heart enough — and his rasp of a laugh is wholly real. Viktor drops his head, to denote a bit of an apology, as you move from around the door and let it swing shut behind you.

It's then that he gets a good look at your dress — and once more, he nips at his inner self for refuting the invitation to the symposium. He had a habit of doing so. A habit that he's recently begun to oppose. It's as if he can't spend enough time around you. You, his business partner. You, the one soul he spends more time around than Jayce. You're his equal. His friend. His most trusted confidant.

Hell alive, he thinks you're the most beautiful woman in the cosmos.

The gilded jewelry at your throat catches the low, humming blue emittance from the Hexcore as you pass its confinement. Your hand is extended, offering the flute of champagne to him in his seat at his desk.

"I... Time escaped me," Viktor supplies as his amber eyes move across your face, "I apologize."

Viktor takes the champagne with a quiet thank you. You ignore the way his fingers still against yours — and the way shyness curls into your heart at the touch.

"I'm jealous, really," you chide playfully as you lean against the lip of his desk. You peak over your shoulder at the papers on the desk.

Viktor hums out a soft chuckle as he tips the drink back to take a sip. "Should I assume you were looking for a reason to get away, then?"

You watch the movement — stuck on the glimpse of his throat. His tie is loose. Clearly, he and Jayce had been having one of their rather animated back-and-forth's. The sort that always came when you had put your focus forward...

The three of you... Well, Jayce and Viktor are everything to you. Recently, though, things with Viktor have been different.

Even Jayce has seen it.

He's caught onto the sparks that electify the air each time an excited breakthrough breeches the surface — the way you two connect gazes, with eager smiles hanging onto the closeness shared and breaths abated. There are these moments in the flow of work where forlorn looks are cast across the room; always when the other isn't looking. In the haze of ingenuity, where praise spills, where cheeks are split with bashful smiles and lingering hands upon excited hands.

Is this the burn of fondness, then? Slow and steady, as promised as the rise of the run?

His question isn't an easy one.

Quiet slips between you two. Somewhere, outside the large windows, you can still hear the strings winding a long tune.

You look down at your heels and toe the tile.

“It’s all so boring — stuffy. You know how it is,” you mutter quietly with a sigh, “And if I’m being honest? I’d much rather be down here... With our work, our projects...”

A pause. You move to gently pick up the set of notes he was reading prior to your interuption. It does well to shield the uncertainty in the coming confession.

“...With you.”

You flash your gaze to him.

Viktor blinks. Suddenly, he’s rushing to stand. His champagne is left to sit on the desk as he reaches for his cane and bears his weight, squaring his posture away to his full height. He’s not small by any means. Tall, elegant. As handsome as he is clever.

Quickly, he assess the comment — and he finds no humor. At first, it’s entirely distressing. He isn’t sure whether to laugh this off or to hang onto the small, possible promise of affections shared for a moment longer. Outside, the stars glimmer a little brighter at the thought.

“I — uh... You...?” suddenly, words a little harder than he remembers; the admission comes like a lightning strike on a calm day. He clears his throat as you gently place down the papers and turn your eyes up to him. He levels his voice and his accent makes the question near poetic, “...Do you mean that?”

This time, you’re the sheepish one. Your attention flicks between his eyes and his mouth. You’re reading his expression, trying to understand the microcosms of emotion brewing there.

“Lying is unbecoming,” is the slow, chaste remark earned. It’s sheepish. Shy. Sweet.

Viktor’s laugh is delayed — chased down by the immeasurable rush of affection that blooms in his heart.

Then, there’s another crawl of quiet between you.

This one is easy. Warm. Gentle.

Both of you hold one another’s gazes with bitten smiles. It’s Viktor whose laugh breaks the silence when his grin becomes too big, too tender to keep back — it’s breathless and enarmored. He ducks his head.

You chew the inside of your lip.

“Well, if I’m being honest,” comes the pointed drawl of his words as his hand reaches for yours, “I was agonizing over just how I’d ask you for a dance...”

It’s your turn to laugh. Your face feels hot now at the center of his attention. Long fingers turn your palm over, admiring the delicate bands of gold along your knuckles. You’ve painted your nails.

"Though, now I’m not sure I’d be brave enough to ask the most beautiful woman in all of Piltover to dance.”

Your lips part in a shocked breath. Viktor smiles. His hand leaves yours to drift to the delicate silk of your sleeve, to trace the cut-outs along your arm. His thumb ventures the curve of your shoulder. As if your orbit has latched onto his, you’re drawn in — the palm of your hand meets the sharp contour of his jaw.

“Flattery will get you anywhere—” you muster in a whisper, deflecting the praise that has your head spinning.

“—Honesty. It’s honesty,” he corrects gently.

And, perhaps this moment would have ended with more than lovesick looks and tenderness passed between touch. Perhaps, Viktor would have kissed you in the quiet of the lab, beneath the glow of the Hexore, to the tender swell of a string qaurtet in the lower gardens. Perhaps, you two would have decided to share a dance here. In private, in heart and hand.

Perhaps.

But, Jayce has a habit of poor timing.

He nearly falls over himself at the sight of his two closest friends entwined, a breath apart — and immediately the door is swinging back to clock him in the side as he trips forward and shouts out a loud apology. The tray of cakes in his hands tumble with him, clattering loudly as he laughs sheepishly and regains his balance.

“Sorry—!”

Is he?

You snap away from Viktor, moving to gather up your respective glass and play off the closeness with easy, slinking movements. Your own sheepishness is hidden in a well-played cough. Viktor, however, remains unmoved. Steady. Heavily vested in your small moment.

“I... I wasn’t meaning to interupt—”

“We were just about to join you,” comes Viktor’s easy reply, albeit his eyes are stuck to you the entire time he speaks. He raises a hand and waves Jayce off, “Weren’t we?”

You blink at him. Your lashes flutter.

Then, you sip your champagne and nod.

“Of course.”

After all, you owe him a dance.

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