caitlynbuceta

[caitlynbuceta]

thought abt viktor and wifey scenarios

- "you're staring!" "I like seeing you happy love"

- matching fits!!

- jayce and mel spying on them obv

- reading tgt!!

- picnic date + stargazing!

- meet jayce and mel? yea!!

- viktor being a softie for his wife and wifey js being the darling she is 🫶

Cozy Wife .ᐟ

Viktor x Fem! Wife! Reader

In which, sitting by the fire with a book can be romantic. If you weren’t being stalked by a nosy duo.

a/n: no one talk to me on Sunday (the eras tour is ending)

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

“Dear, which book should we read?” you asked, your fingers gliding over the myriad of titles that crowded the bookshelf. The scent of aged paper and wood filled the cozy room, mingling with the warmth radiating from the crackling fireplace in front of you. Viktor remained silent for a moment, his brow furrowed in concentration as he settled onto a small, soft cushion near the hearth. The dance of the flames cast a gentle flickering light across his thoughtful features. 

“Nothing nerdy,” you added playfully, glancing sideways at him, your eyes sparkling with mischief. Viktor raised an eyebrow in mock indignation and rolled his eyes, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You pick,” he replied, leaning his crutch against the side of the cushion before resting his arm on his knee with a soft sigh. 

You nodded, your gaze darting to the shelves again. The colorful spines of novels seemed to whisper secrets and stories, each one beckoning for attention. After a brief moment of contemplation, you selected a book with an elegant cover adorned with swirls of gold. “Romance?” you teased, walking over to him with a playful sway in your step, taking a seat beside him, the cushion sinking slightly under your weight. 

Viktor perked up, his curiosity piqued as he tilted his head in your direction. “Romance? Of course…” he muttered under his breath in a tone that was half-annoyed and half-interested. You couldn’t help but giggle, your excitement bubbling over as you curled up next to him, feeling the warmth radiating from his body. 

Slowly, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, but you noticed his muscles tensed slightly upon the contact of your skin against his. “You’re so dramatic,” you remarked, casting him a sideways glance as you opened the book to the first page, the pages crisp and fresh. 

“I am not,” Viktor shot back quickly, his voice sharp but betraying a hint of humor as he let out a small huff of frustration. You laughed, shaking your head with mirth. “I’m only teasing!” you said, prompting another huff from him. “… Kind of.”

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

Just then, Jayce and Mel poked their heads over the windowsill, their curious eyes shining with interest as they observed the warm scene unfolding. “Oh my,” Mel drawled, raising an eyebrow and smirking at the sight of you and Viktor nestled together. “They look comfy,” she teased, glancing at Jayce, who seemed mesmerized as he focused intently on the two of you, utterly engrossed in the moment.

Leaning your head against Viktor’s shoulder, you let your eyes dance over the text on the page, becoming engrossed in the words. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, Viktor was not actually reading; his eyes were fixated on you, mesmerized by the way the light from the fire softly illuminated your features, making your skin glow and your eyes sparkle like precious gems as they reflected the flames. He felt his heart begin to race, causing him to shift slightly on the cushion, a wave of nervous energy coursing through him.

“You okay?” you asked, perking up at his movement and momentarily breaking your focus on the book. Viktor felt his cheeks warm, his pulse quickening under your gaze. “I’m fine, love,” he muttered quietly, briefly diverting his eyes to the book before flicking them back to you. In that moment, your eyes locked, and your hands slowly slipped away from the book to rest in your lap. 

“Do I have something on my face?” you asked softly, tilting your head to the side with a curious expression. Viktor, entranced by your earnestness, remained silent for a heartbeat before gently reaching up to caress your cheek with his thumb, eliciting a flutter of warmth from within you. The world around you seemed to vanish as you both leaned in slowly, drawn together by an invisible thread, feeling the warmth of each other's breath against your lips.

But just as the moment reached its delicate climax, a sudden crash echoed from outside, jolting you both apart. It was Jayce, having lost his balance, who landed unexpectedly on his back with a loud thud, sending an outside seal clattering to the ground beside him. Mel stumbled after him but managed to land gracefully on her feet, her expression a mix of astonishment and amusement. 

“What on Earth?” you muttered in disbelief, both startled and amused as you stood up, your heart racing from both the interrupted moment and the unexpected noise. Viktor’s hands fell away from you as you rushed to the window, peeking outside but finding everything oddly still. “That’s odd,” you grumbled, closing the blinds with a decisive click before walking back to join him on the cushion once more. 

He quickly placed his arm around your shoulder again, his fingers idly toying with the collar of your shirt, his warmth enveloping you once more. “Where were we?” he asked, trying to regain the atmosphere.

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

“You idiot,” Mel called out to Jayce as they both ambled back toward the Academia, her voice laced with lighthearted reproach. Jayce, still on the ground, rubbed his back with a grimace of embarrassment. “I don’t know what happened,” he mumbled, cheeks aflame from the fall and the attention, attempting to mask his discomfort with a nervous chuckle.

[caitlynbuceta]

strawberry wine

pairing: modern au!viktor x artist!reader prompt: “if somebody were to kiss me, i’d want that person to be you” tags: you're jayces childhood bff, no use of y/n, alcohol, heavy kissing, drunk kissing, basically just a bunch of buildup towards a smutty fwb part two???, viktor being a menace wc: 4k notes: AU where nobody is sick or dying yay! also i think i managed to keep this pretty gn!reader but any future parts will be afab/fem (art is from pinterest, dividers from chachachannah & webc00re)

You never meant for things to get this far. You told yourself it was just a little fun, harmless and fleeting—nothing more. You had a career to focus on, friendships in the balance. But now, here you are, pacing the living room carpet thin, your cuticles raw from nervous chewing, and your thoughts spiraling into places you swore they’d never go.

It feels juvenile, almost laughable, like some smitten teenager waiting by the phone and sneaking kisses in shadowed corners. You were supposed to be above this, weren’t you? I mean, as a grown adult you should know how to keep it casual, uncomplicated. 

But nothing about this is simple anymore. Not the friendship. Not the secrets. And certainly not the way your heart betrays you every time his name crosses your mind.

It definitely wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Moving back to the city hadn’t been on the bingo card for this year, but here you were. Your life had been tucked away in the quiet of rural landscapes, where your art had room to breathe—endless skies, rolling hills, and the kind of solitude that made inspiration flow without any distractions. But your career had expanded, and with that expansion came the relentless pressure of galleries, art buyers, and a future that demanded more from you than that peaceful escape ever could. 

So, the city had called you back. Concrete towers, crowded streets, the city offered more. Shows. Opportunities. Jayce. The only thing about this cold, steel jungle that still felt like home. Jayce—your childhood friend, your constant in a world that had never stopped changing. Thrown together since you were practically in diapers, he was the one piece of your old life that had somehow survived the years and distance between you two. And now, after what felt like an eternity, here he was, sprawled across your tiny couch, looking too comfortable for someone who was just supposed to be a guest. The apartment was a bit small, as city apartments tended to be—packed between towering neighbors—but Jayce’s presence was the only thing about it that felt remotely like home.

"You know," he said, half-lounging. “I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”

You didn’t look up from your canvas, your brush already dipping into the paints like second nature. “Who?”

“Viktor” 

You paused, only long enough for your brush to hover midair before you flicked your gaze in his direction. “Ah, yes. The famous business partner.”

Jayce’s grin didn’t falter, but there was something softer behind it now. “Yeah, something like that. But seriously, he’s a good guy. Brilliant, actually. You two would get along.”

You didn’t reply at first. Instead, you let the brush finish its arc, eyes back on your work, moving with the rhythm of a familiar task. “mhm” you murmured, distracted by the way the strokes of paint were bleeding together. “If he’s anything like you, how bad can it be?”

But Jayce, of course, wasn’t done. His voice took on that soft  tone he reserved for moments when he really wanted to get his point across. “I’m serious, okay? I want you two to meet. You both mean a lot to me, and I think you’ll really hit it off.”

You didn’t look up, but you felt a weight behind his words, pushing against you with silent pressure. “Yeah? I’m sure it’ll happen, then.”

Jayce’s eyes lit up, a flash of triumph in them, like he’d just won some small but important battle. “You’ll see. I’m telling you—when you meet him, you’ll click. I know it.”

You leaned back in your chair, releasing a slow exhale, the kind that said everything without saying anything at all. A nonchalant nod was all you offered, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of saying more. “Fine. Fine. I’ll meet him. But don’t make a whole thing out of it.”

Jayce chuckled, and there was an odd note of relief in the sound, like he’d just been granted some unspoken permission. “No big deal, I swear. But you’ll see. You two are more alike than you think.”

-

When you finally did meet Viktor, Jayce was practically vibrating, his energy as unsubtle as ever. It had been after one of your gallery openings, a night you’d half-dragged yourself through on fumes and politeness. Your heels had barely cleared the threshold of his apartment before the faintest twinge of suspicion began to creep in—something about the way he hovered, grinning like a man with a secret.

“You deserve a good meal after tonight,” Jayce had said, ushering you in with the kind of charm that usually preceded one of his schemes. “Thought you’d want to celebrate somewhere that doesn’t reek of overpriced wine and small talk.”

You rolled your eyes but let yourself be corralled, the promise of food outweighing the odd note in his voice. His large apartment, at least, was familiar territory: warm, cluttered with bits of tech and sentimental junk from years past, the faint scent of whatever candles he refused to admit he hoarded lingering in the air.

And then you heard it—the low murmur of another voice, sharp-edged and vaguely amused, drifting from the kitchen.

Jayce froze, his grin faltering for a split second before it reappeared, brighter than ever. “Oh, right,” he said, far too casually. “Viktor’s here.”

You blinked, narrowing your eyes at him. “You conveniently forgot to mention that part.”

“Come on,” he pushed, throwing an arm around your shoulders and steering you toward the source of the voice. “It’s no big deal. Just dinner. You’ll like him, I promise.”

And there he was, perched by the kitchen counter with a faintly perplexed look on his face. He was slimmer than you’d expected, pale and sharp-featured, with hair that looked like it hadn’t met a comb in days. His amber eyes flicked up to meet yours, narrowing slightly as if he were trying to solve a puzzle that had just been placed in front of him.

“Ah,” he said, his accent lilting and crisp, “so this is the infamous artist.”

You shot a glare at Jayce, who was already heading for the stove with the kind of forced cheer that made it painfully clear he’d orchestrated the whole thing. “You owe me for this,” you muttered under your breath, stepping further into the kitchen.

Viktor’s lips twitched, the barest hint of a smirk appearing. “And here I thought I was being ambushed. Seems we’re both victims of his enthusiasm.”

Jayce turned from the stove, wooden spoon in hand, his expression utterly unrepentant. “You’ll thank me later.”

The dinner was simple but undeniably good—Jayce’s doing, of course. The man couldn’t let anyone step into his apartment without insisting they be properly fed, and tonight was no exception. Roast chicken, buttery vegetables with rice, warm bread that filled the space with its yeasty aroma—it was the kind of meal that made you feel at home even when you weren’t.

Conversation flowed easily around the table, mostly carried by Jayce, but Viktor wasn’t exactly quiet, either. He had a way of chiming in at just the right moment, his dry humor landing squarely between Jayce’s more exuberant anecdotes and your own occasional contributions.

“You mean to tell me,” Viktor said at one point, leaning back slightly in his chair, “that Jayce still hasn’t learned to cook rice without burning it? After all these years?”

Jayce, halfway through explaining some disastrous culinary attempt from his youth, turned to glare at him. “Excuse me, this rice was cooked perfectly.”

“It was fine,” you agreed, though the memory of a slightly crunchy bite or two made your lips twitch in amusement.

Viktor’s amber eyes sparkled as he gestured broadly. “Oh, fine! A glowing review, truly. Don’t let it go to your head.”

Jayce groaned, but there was no real bite to it. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet,” Viktor said, raising his glass in a mock toast, “here I am. Invited to dinner. Again.”

Jayce just rolled his eyes and went back to his story, leaving you to glance at Viktor with a small smile. He caught it, of course, and gave a little shrug as if to say, what can you do? For all his sharp humor, he was easy to talk to, his wit balanced by an underlying warmth that kept him from coming off as too cutting.

Which was why you were only mildly surprised when the spoon incident happened.

Dinner was winding down, Jayce had disappeared into the kitchen to fuss over coffee, leaving you and Viktor to handle the cleanup.

He moved with a surprising ease, balancing a stack of plates in one hand, his cane steady in the other. It was a casual sort of competence, as though he’d long since adapted to whatever limitations life had handed him. You hadn’t thought much of it, impressed by how naturally he maneuvered, until the soft clatter of a spoon hitting the floor broke the quiet rhythm of tidying.

“Ah,” Viktor said, glancing down at the rogue utensil with a faint frown as he set down the plate stack. “Of course.”

You paused mid-step, glancing between him and the spoon. “Need a hand?”

He tilted his head, his expression a little too innocent. “If it’s not too much trouble. You know, the leg and all...”

“Oh, for—” Jayce’s voice floated from the kitchen, half-annoyed but not quite committed to intervening.

You sighed, setting down the napkins you’d been folding. “Yeah, sure. I’ve got it.”

But just as you crouched down, Viktor shifted. A casual tap of his cane sent the spoon skittering across the floor, its metallic clink faintly echoing as it landed farther away.

You froze, staring at the spoon in disbelief, then turned your gaze to him slowly. “You’re kidding.”

Viktor’s lips twitched, the faintest glimmer of amusement flickering across his face. “What?”

“You just—”

“What?” he repeated, wider-eyed this time, his free hand gesturing vaguely toward his cane. “I’m handicapped.”

Jayce reappeared in the doorway, a coffee pot in hand and a look of pure exasperation on his face. “Viktor.”

“What?” Viktor said again, his voice laced with mock indignation. “I am!”

Jayce muttered something unintelligible as he poured coffee, his focus shifting between you and Viktor like he couldn’t decide which one of you deserved his scolding more. Meanwhile, you straightened, crossing your arms as a grin tugged at the corners of your mouth despite your best efforts.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” you said, stepping across the room to retrieve the spoon—again.

“Very generous,” Viktor agreed, his tone breezy. “Honestly, it’s quite inspiring. Jayce, you should take notes.”

Jayce groaned, setting the coffee pot down with a little too much force. “You’re both ridiculous.”

But you were already laughing, the sound bubbling up before you could stop it. As you returned the spoon to the table with a pointed look, Viktor gave you a small, almost triumphant smile. And maybe, you could see what Jayce meant when he’d said you’d get along.

-

The first time you realized you might feel more than just friendship for Viktor was when you noticed the way your sketches had started to change.

It had been weeks—maybe even a couple of months—since that dinner with Jayce, when you had awkwardly danced around each other, getting to know one another. The initial weirdness had faded into easy companionship, and you found yourself spending more time with Viktor than you expected. You hadn’t quite noticed it happening, but somewhere along the line, you’d become an unintentional trio. Jayce had been bursting with barely-contained glee at how easily the two of you seemed to get along, and it made your chest warm, knowing how much that mattered to him. It felt... right, this newfound ease between the three of you, a quiet sort of harmony that made you smile more than you expected.

But as the days passed, something shifted without you realizing it. You were at home one evening, flipping through your sketchbook, the soft pastel dust smudging the edges of the pages as your fingers moved. The forms you’d drawn were abstract models, capturing shapes and shadows in a fluid, organic way. It wasn’t anything new—nothing that stood out. But then, you stopped.

There, in the shadows of the page, you saw it.

The subtle arch of a jawline. The curve of lips that you knew too well. Even the moles, small and almost unremarkable, but there they were—on the page, right beneath your fingertips. You blinked and flipped to another sketch, only to see it again. A line here, a shadow there. It wasn’t him exactly, but it was.

To the untrained eye, maybe it wouldn’t have been obvious. Hell, maybe even to you on any other day, it might’ve gone unnoticed. But now, in the quiet of your studio, the shapes were almost unmistakable. The soft angle of his nose, the way his eyes looked when he was thinking too hard, the way his smile would pull up on one side when he was being particularly smug.

You frowned, setting the sketchbook down, your hands hovering above it as if it had betrayed you. Was this some kind of coincidence? Or was it something more, something you had been avoiding realizing? You’d never consciously set out to draw him, but there he was, tucked into the lines and curves of your art like an uninvited guest you hadn’t known you were entertaining.

It was ridiculous, you told yourself. Of course it was just... coincidence. But even as you tried to convince yourself, there was a small, unspoken truth sitting in your chest, heavy and undeniable, and the first time you realized Viktor might see you as more than just a friend was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it hit you all the same.

He mentioned a piece you’d shown him, his tone thoughtful. “You’ve been doing something different lately. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there’s a change. It’s...” His gaze flickered to yours, then dropped back to the floor, but the brief flash in his eyes sent an unexpected flutter through your chest. “...more. More than what you usually show.”

The words themselves were harmless, even complimentary, but it was the way they hung between you that made something inside you stir—something you couldn’t name, not yet. You didn’t think much of it at first, but the way his eyes lingered just a second longer than necessary made your breath catch. The way the corners of his mouth lifted into a half-smile, not teasing, but... fond.

It was a simple thing. A fleeting moment. And yet, it lingered in your mind as you retreated to your apartment, your thoughts whirling with the possibility that Viktor—your friend, the one you had so casually laughed and bantered with for months—might be seeing you differently, too.

The shift was subtle, but it was there. And it unsettled you more than you cared to admit.

-

Everything came to a boiling point one night at your apartment. You’d ventured into town earlier that day, mostly for a change of scenery, and happened upon a small farmers market. You couldn’t resist grabbing a few bottles of strawberry wine, its sweetness and fruity undertones practically calling your name. Jayce had scoffed at it when you got back, claiming it was too sugary to have any real punch. “There’s no way I’ll even get drunk off this,” he’d muttered with a dismissive wave.

An hour later, he was sprawled out on your pullout, snoring softly with a stupid grin plastered across his face. You and Viktor stood nearby, both trying—and failing—to suppress your amusement at how quickly Jayce had succumbed to the wine’s effects. For all his size, Jayce was a surprising lightweight.

“I swear, every time,” you said, laughing quietly.

Viktor, leaning against the doorway, gave a soft chuckle. “Some people just don’t know when to stop.”

You rolled your eyes, glancing over at the slumbering man. “Guess we let him sleep it off.”

“Let him have his beauty rest,” Viktor teased, his voice light as he nodded toward the bottles. “We can always finish it ourselves.”

So you did, winding up on the roof with the cold night air around you. The worn-out couch up there had seen better days, but it was still enough to settle into and talk, a simple quiet comfort settling over you both. The soft glow of string lights and the silvered moonlight made the world feel like it was wrapped in a quiet hush despite the never ending sounds of the city. You both settled into the couch, the cushions sinking in the middle, which pushed you just a little closer to Viktor than you'd anticipated.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence was easy, like you had spent years in it. You noticed how close you were sitting now—your thighs pressed together, and when you passed the bottle of wine, your fingers brushed his. A small spark of awareness ran through you each time, and you tried to ignore it, feeling your face warm despite the cool air.

The wine was sweet, fruity, and a little stronger than you expected, especially when you found yourself reaching for another sip and another, the soft buzz in your head gradually growing stronger.

By the time the bottle was halfway gone, you were both leaning more heavily into the couch, and you couldn’t help but giggle at how little wine was apparently needed to bring Jayce to the brink of passing out. You felt... lighter. Almost giddy, as if the laughter that came so easily was spilling out along with the alcohol. And Viktor, sitting just beside you, didn’t seem to be immune to it either. His face was flushed in the soft light, his lips curling into an easy smile.

“You know,” you said, leaning back and feeling the warmth of the couch soak into your bones, “I don’t do this enough. I’m so... wrapped up in work and life and... I just forget to relax.”

Viktor tilted his head, eyes slightly narrowed as he watched you. “Relaxing can be overrated,” he said with a smirk, the words a little slower than they’d been earlier. He took another drink from the bottle, his thumb brushing against the glass in an unconscious rhythm. When he passed it to you, your fingers brushed once again, and you lingered just a bit longer than necessary.

“Well, maybe for you,” you chuckled. “But, for me, it’s like... it's like a luxury, I guess. You know? I don’t remember the last time I just sat with someone and... and didn’t feel like I had to be somewhere or do something.”

“You eh–... don’t have to worry about that here,” Viktor said quietly, his voice light, with that usual teasing edge. But something was different in his tone, something that made the words feel heavier than they should have been. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but the air seemed to shift, the quiet between you stretching into something almost… charged.

You took another sip, your hand a little unsteady now. The whole situation felt absurd—awkward, even, yet strangely intimate in a way you hadn’t expected. Your gaze drifted toward his lips without thinking. It was brief, but enough to send a flutter through your stomach, and suddenly, your mind couldn’t focus on anything but that soft, confident curve of his mouth. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was something else entirely, but you couldn’t seem to think straight anymore.

Viktor shifted closer again, and the couch beneath you groaned as it sank with the weight of it. The space between you closed, and you could feel the warmth of his body pressing against yours shoulder to shoulder, like the alcohol spreading through you, making your pulse quicken.

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. His presence was a solid thing beside you. His eyes were locked on yours, studying, but still so calm. You could feel the punch of his gaze on you, like it was seeping through your skin, sending heat rushing to your cheeks. It wasn’t just the wine now—you could feel it all over, heat blooming beneath your skin, making you fidget slightly.

“Sometimes… you get caught up in what you’re doing, and you forget about everything else,” you mumbled, trying to ignore the way your nerves were tightening your chest. “I’ve been focused on my career and—god, I’ve probably been a little… I don’t know, closed off.” You laughed lightly, but it was nervous, unsure of where this was even coming from. But suddenly all your senses were barraged by him, his smell, his eyes.

“I just—I haven’t thought about it. Relationships, I mean. Not in a long time. I don’t know if I’m even ready for anything like that. Not now, not with everything I’m doing.” You trailed off, self-conscious, suddenly feeling like you were saying too much, rambling without stopping. The words seemed to just slip out of you, tumbling over each other.

You took another shaky breath, your heart thudding in your chest as you tried to make yourself stop, but you couldn’t. It was like you were helpless.

“And, I mean, if anybody were to kiss me…” You faltered, realizing too late just how much you were giving away. Your pulse quickened, your thoughts jumbled as your mouth just kept moving. “I would want that person to be you.”

The air between you thickened, the silence stretching long and heavy. Your heart pounded in your chest, a nervous rhythm that drowned out everything else. You waited for him to say something, to break the tension that was suffocating you. But there was nothing. Just the weight of his gaze on you, steady and searching.

When you finally dared to glance at him Viktor's expression was unreadable. One thick eyebrow was cocked slightly, and his mouth hung open just enough to suggest he was about to say something, but didn't. He was so close but somehow the distance between you felt infinite.

You opened your mouth to say something, to fill the silence, but before you could speak, his hand moved, his fingers brushing against your jaw in the gentlest touch. The sudden warmth of his palm made your breath catch, and before you could even fully process it, he was pulling you in. His lips met yours, soft at first, as though testing the waters, as if the moment itself was delicate. But that softness didn't last, between the buzz of alcohol, the closeness, the heat between you—it all blurred together. The kiss deepened, quickly turning urgent, hungry. His hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the bottle slipped from your grasp, its clang against the concrete floor echoing in the quiet of the rooftop

You didn't care. You were too lost in the feeling of him against you, his lips moving against yours with a desperate kind of need. The kiss grew messier– clumsy, teeth scraping, tongues tangling. You could taste the faint sweetness of wine on him, the mix of flavors making everything feel dizzying overwhelming.

You found yourself gripping his shirt, pulling him closer, as if trying to merge your bodies together, desperate for the contact, for whatever it was that had been building between you two for so long. 

-

The next day was a harsh slap of hangover reality. Your head pounded, your mouth was dry, and every time you glanced at Viktor across the room, your stomach flipped in a way that had nothing to do with the booze.

Jayce, of course, was none the wiser. He chatted away over breakfast like nothing had changed, blissfully unaware of the shift that had unraveled everything you thought you’d had under control. And you? You were wholly committed to keeping it that way. It was a one-time thing, you told yourself. Just a fleeting, drunken thing—something you could both quietly bury and move on from.

At least, that was the plan.

Until it happened again. And then again.

Now it feels like a thread being pulled tighter and tighter, until you’re not sure if you’re going to unravel completely or snap under the weight.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. But here you are. And you don’t know how to stop.

©lilsworks 2024

[caitlynbuceta]

ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎

[caitlynbuceta]

➸ ask: "you're gonna get lipstick all over me" with Viktor while he and reader get ready for an event. I need some fluff right now, I’m grieving )):” — ➸ pairing: viktor x fem!reader ➸ word count: 605 ➸ tags: mdni! fluff, kissing, lipstick kisses, established relationship, drabble, s1 viktor, no mention of y/n. ➸ notes: ok this was so cute to write. going to simply die with all this fluff content you’re sending me!! tysm for asking, love! 🤍 came from this prompt!

A speech and dinner. That’s all Viktor had told you about the event he’d been invited to, alongside Jayce. Enough to understand, but too little to not fully grasp what this mysterious event could be.

You weren’t a councilman, nor were you an academy student. No, you had just been a lucky bird who ran into Viktor one late night when he’d been returning home from the academy, and you were wandering around so you could get things off your mind. It was an off-chance meeting when you stumbled right into him, the song you’d been quietly whistling ripped from your lungs when you toppled backward.

It was fate, the red string, that finally pulled you together. Or that’s what you liked to think.

“So, is this an academy thing?” Your voice rang from your bedroom, perched upon the stool in front of your vanity as you touched up the pink lipstick you’d swiped along your lips, “you’re being awfully quiet about it. What if I dress too fancy and embarrass myself? Or worse, not fancy enough!”

Viktor stepped into the bedroom, hand on his cane as his eyes flickered around the room until they landed on you. Your eyes locked in the reflection, and you turned on your stool, facing up.

You were perfect, wearing a beautiful dress that reached just above your knees. A dress your mother handmade for this occasion, a well-known seamstress in Piltover.

“You look good,” he answered earnestly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “it’s an academy gala, I think. I…” he crinkled his nose, “I don’t really know exactly what it, eh… is. I wasn’t listening when Jayce reminded me.”

“And you didn’t think to ask?” You stood up after packing away your belongings, smoothing down your dress with fingers that had been delicately painted to match the colour of your clothing.

“It’s a fancy Piltover event, they’re all the same. It isn’t a big deal,” Viktor mumbled, looking down and noticing that he’d buttoned up his vest incorrectly, one side lower than the other.

With a sigh, you waltzed over to your lover, hands beating him to the button as you undid them. You were meticulous with your movements, adjusting the clothing along his slender frame once it was rightly fitted.

“Then why do you look so nervous?” Your eyes glanced up to meet his, a smirk pulling one side of your lips up.

“Not nervous,” Viktor rolled his eyes, attempting to pull away, but you were on him too quickly.

“You look good, too. I know you’re worried about it,” you grinned as your lips pressed to his chin, and you peppered a slurry of kisses against his smooth skin. It was enough to bring a smile to his lips, to let his nerves rest.

This was his first event, after all. He had simply withheld the information.

Viktor tried to pull away from your kisses that attacked his cheeks now, grinning like a fool in love, “You’re going to get lipstick all over me,” he groaned, hands grabbing at your jaw so he was able to tear your loving lips from his skin.

He stared down at you, still smiling as giggles erupted from you.

“It’s fine. The colour suits you,” you hummed, knowing very well that your freshly applied lipstick had completely smudged from your lips because there were streaks of pink over his skin.

“You are troublesome, you know that?” he mumbled, trying so hard to be annoyed, but how could he when you looked at him so lovingly.

“Just a little,” you smiled, closing the distance between your lips.

[caitlynbuceta]

MY LORD AND SAVIOR BEAUTIFUL TWINK MALEWIFE

[caitlynbuceta]

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. 

[caitlynbuceta]

goddess

[caitlynbuceta]

fave viktor writer

Arcane Masterlist

Masterlist 2.0 | Anime/Manga Masterlist | Kinktober '21 Masterlist | Kinktober ‘22 Masterlist | Like my fics? Buy me a Ko-fi! | Winter 2023

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!)

[caitlynbuceta]

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.

[caitlynbuceta]

my fics usually contain 18+ content. don’t interact if that’s not your cup of fanfiction/if you’re not old enough to read all that filth.

soln’s masterlist! ♡

arcane

• viktor

who says i’m sharing that bath with you? (nsfw, viktor x afab!reader)

at cane’s length (nsfw, viktor x gn!reader)

a quick meal (nsfw, viktor x f!reader)

do you fancy a quickie? (nsfw, viktor x f!reader)

untitled angry sex drabble (nsfw, viktor x afab!reader)

the counterpart (viktor x f!reader, modern chess players au) — part 1 (sfw), part 2 (sfw), part 3 (sfw), part 4 (nsfw), part 5 (nsfw-ish), part 6 (nsfw), part 7 (sfw), part 8 (nsfw) completed

it has its own tag now — #the cunterpart (i know, i’m so hilarious)

• viktor requests

sub!viktor x f!reader (nsfw-ish)

viktor x gn!reader - tenderness (fluff)

viktor x gn!reader - taking a shower together (fluff)

the jeweller’s hands - viktor x gn!reader (nsfw)

i write for whatever is my current hyperfixation. send me requests if you’d like (fluff, smut, angst)

‼️ i won’t write weird stuff (non-con, dub-con, questionable kinks, pedo, incest etc.) + please, don’t request daddy kink and breed kink.

have fun reading my silly little fics!

your soln ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

[caitlynbuceta]

Gina Gershon as Corky in BOUND (1996)