#Viktor fanfiction | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

im-a-writer-sometimes · 2 years ago

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Life Giveth and Life Taketh Away

Pairing: Viktor x Reader (You can always use this extension to change Y/N to your own name, if you’d like)

Description: When a routine test with the Hexcore goes sideways, Dr. Y/N Cole is left with an unexplained power—a gift that might be the answer to the illness eating away at Viktor’s life. But power always comes with a price, and there are no happy endings in Piltover.

Wordcount: 7.5k

Warnings: Major character death, angst, Jayce being a major pain in everyone’s ass, language, a wee bit of fluff, hurt/no comfort

A/N: Welcome to me ignoring canon for the sake of my stupid little plot!

—

The Hexcore was unlike anything Y/N had ever seen. From the way Viktor toyed with it for hours on end and the way Jayce’s wide eyes watched it undulate and glow, she guessed the duo had never seen anything like it either. It was science, living and breathing—magic, caged and yet dangerously unmoored between Viktor’s trained hands.

It was terrifying in a way, but in her career as a scientist, she had learned to live for the terrifying, riding that fine line between madness and invention. It was that trait within her that had pulled her towards the undoubtedly insane men she now worked for, and had likewise pulled them to her.

“I think Heimerdinger is right in a way,” she said, leaning against the end of the desk as Viktor sat in front of the core, head resting on his hands.

“How so?” He asked, his voice flat.

“We can’t employ the core until we understand it,” she said. He opened his mouth to protest, but she continued. “That just means we need to work twice as hard to understand it, to help the people who can’t wait another year or two years before this technology is available to the public.”

Viktor smiled softly, turning his head back to the core, it’s blue light dancing in the reflection of his yellow eyes. That was what pulled her to the softer, ganglier of the two scientists—and what pulled him to her—that willful, unrelenting drive to help others no matter the cost to themselves. The late nights and the bad coffee and the mornings waking to neck aches as they lifted their heads from the desks they’d sat down at two days ago—it all meant nothing. Nothing compared to the things they needed to accomplish.

“You’ve been up for 48 hours,” she said, standing from her spot against the desk and coming up behind him. “You go get some shut-eye, and I’ll run some more tests.”

“I’m your boss, Dr. Cole,” he said with lethargic amusement in his voice. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“When you’re being stupid, I do,” she said, leaning back against the desk next to him. He smiled and closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath. To her surprise, he reached around her for the cane leaning against the desk, standing with a grunt. “I’ll get a few hours sleep,” he relented, his voice deep and slow with exhaustion, his accent thicker than ever. “And then I’ll be back here to relieve you.”

“More than a few hours, Viktor,” she called as he left, knowing he wouldn’t listen to her. His lack of response said just as much. She sat down in his chair and sighed.

She thought about Jayce, the acting head of the council, busy with political endeavors and Mel, although she couldn’t blame him—if the councilwoman showed even the slightest bit of interest in her, she wouldn’t hesitate to fall into her arms. But despite his distractions, Jayce had been the one to tell her about Viktor’s trip to the hospital. He had been the one to beg her to force Viktor to take care of himself. “He listens to you,” he’d insisted. She spent every day with Viktor, but he revealed nothing—beyond the poorly masked coughs.

He needed this. He needed this promise of future, this promise of life. But he wouldn’t make it to that point of discovery if he kept pushing himself like he was. That was what Jayce had explained to her, translated from the doctor’s prescription of rest, rest, rest. As if that would cure a dying Viktor.

She ran her fingers along the edges of the core, feeling the cool, textured metal against the pad of her thumb. The core seemed to thrum in response, the light within it pulsing playfully. She pulled two wilting plants from a shelf beneath her, setting them on the desk on both sides of the core, and she curled into Viktor’s chair, just watching.

Stems of blue light, curious and alive, reached from inside the core, caressing the leaves of the plants until they started to bristle. Brown, papery skin became smooth, became green and waxy and full of life. The plants lifted themselves from their wilted position section by section, until two entirely different pieces of greenery sat on the desk before her.

She picked one of them up and walked it to the other side of the room, leaving the other by the core. She paced as she watched them both. She watched how the blue light burst and blew one plant apart into a sprout of black thorns. She watched how the other plant wilted again in the absence of the core’s life-giving power. It didn’t matter what life it gave—it was gone in a matter of seconds.

Or maybe mint plants were just inhospitable hosts for this power.

She sat back down, making a list in her head of new hosts to try. She hated the thought of animals, but maybe testing on sick or nearly-dead ones wouldn't be too unethical. Bugs were fair game, but their anatomy was so starkly different from a human’s that how the core affected them would be irrelevant.

It took her a moment to realize the core was still reaching, still hungry. It wrapped its light around the now lifeless tangle of black stems in a constricting, almost predatorial way. It took Y/N an even longer moment to realize it had started reaching for her. Her eyes widened, the light growing brighter before her. It took her too long—just a moment too long—to think to stand up out of its way.

It took another three hours for Viktor to find her collapsed on the floor in front of the desk, the core still pulsing on the surface.

—

Viktor told her she had lost her being-alone-in-the-lab privileges as soon as she woke up in a hospital bed, and Jayce frowned at her, as if saying how is he supposed to rest now, genius? She gave him a tight smile that said I tried my fucking best.

Before an entire non-verbal argument could play out, Mel appeared in the doorway, a soft coat wrapped around her slender frame and a vase of flowers in between her hands. “We leave you alone for an hour, Doctor, and look where you end up.”

“What can I say, I have a proficiency for poor decision making,” she said, and Mel laughed, sitting down at the end of her bed after setting the flowers on Y/N’s bedside table. She smiled at the arrangement of roses, some of them closed tight against the cold hospital air. “Thank you, Councilor,” she said. “These are lovely.”

“You’re welcome,” Mel said, before turning her eyes to Jayce. “But I’m afraid there are some matters that Councilman Talis and I need to attend to. I wish you a speedy recovery, Doctor,” she said as she stood, patting Y/N’s shin through the blankets.

Jayce mumbled a goodbye as he and Mel left together, leaving only Y/N, Viktor, and heavy silence that lingered in the air like molasses.

“I appreciate Mel’s sentiment,” she said softly, “but I hate roses.” Viktor looked up at that, watching her with wary eyes. “I don’t like how they close up.” She lifted a hand and ran a fingertip along one of the closed flowers as if to prove her point.

Her hand stilled as the petals quivered beneath her touch, before bursting open in a quick rush. Viktor stopped breathing. She drew her hand back. And then she lifted it again, reaching for another closed rose. It opened much the same, and she could hear Viktor’s sharp intake of breath.

“Find me a dead one,” she said, and it took Viktor a moment to even realize she had spoken.

“What?”

“A dead plant. Find me, uh, a dead plant, to—”

He was out of his chair and limping down the hallway before she could finish her sentence. He returned a moment later, a poor nurse hauling a browning plant in a large planter into the room.

“Beside the bed,” he said softly, and the nurse deposited it there, staring at them both expectantly. “That will be all, thank you.”

Once he left, she reached out, pressing her fingertips against one of the wilting leaves. Like mold on bread, green spread out beneath her fingers until the entire plant was living again.

“What have you done?” Viktor breathed, and she shook her head.

“I don’t—I don’t know,” she said. She looked down at her hands, the same as they were last night, and shook her head again. “I ran the same test we’ve run a million times. The plants—the plants died and withered, but the core–”

“What about the core?”

“I don’t know. It was different.”

“Different how?” He said, scooting the plant away and sitting down in the chair beside the bed. “I need you to explain it to me in detail, Y/N.”

She bristled at the sound of her first name in his accented voice. He always called her Doctor or Cole or Dr. Cole. But she didn’t have time to linger on the significance of it when he was staring intensely enough at her to make a lesser person shrink away in discomfort. But she knew this gaze—his problem-solving gaze. She just wasn’t used to being the problem he was solving.

“The plants were enough to wake it this time, but not enough to satiate it. It was hungry, and then,” she paused. “Predatorial? I saw it reaching for me, and I was just too stunned to move. And then I woke up here.”

“That’s all you remember?”

“Yes,” she said. He reached out to take her hand in his, to study it, but she pulled back. His narrowed eyes met hers. “Don’t—don’t touch me, we don’t—”

“We don’t what?” He asked slowly.

“We don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t want any… unintended side effects.” She thought about the mint plant bursting into wild black and shivered, Viktor’s face hovering in front of hers. She pressed her hands beneath her legs for safe measure.

“Yes, right,” he said. And then he was gone for a moment, returning with a pair of lamb-skin gloves dangling from his fingers. “To prevent any unintended side effects.”

—

Jayce was ecstatic when he returned to the lab later that day, explaining to Viktor’s unimpressed face how Y/N’s ability was a vital step in understanding the core. How she was fine, as the doctor’s had confirmed, and she now had the ability to bring plants to life.

“With none of that turning black and dying stuff,” he added, gesturing to the two plants now basking in the window—the vase of fully-bloomed roses and the potted plant, both still alive.

“Just like we do not understand the core,” Viktor explained, “we do not understand what it has done to Dr. Cole. We need—time.”

“Time?” Jayce said. “Weren’t you the one who said people need help now? Here’s your answer, Viktor,” he said, gesturing to Y/N as if she were a potted plant as well. “Why not take advantage of it?”

“Maybe because it is our friend and our colleague, and there is no need to put her in more danger than she has already subjected herself to,” Viktor said.

Y/N frowned—upset that she was actively being excluded from this conversation, and glad because she truly didn’t know who she sided with.

“What about you, Viktor?” Jayce continued, his voice softer. “You thought the Hexcore was the key to curing you, and now,” he looked over at her, “the key might be Y/N.”

Viktor stood, putting his weight on his cane to stand face-to-face with his partner. “Enough,” he said. “This was an unfortunate accident, an accident we still do not know the full repercussions of. Dr. Cole is not a trinket, she is not a science experiment, and I won’t treat her as such.”

Y/N stood, and they both turned their heads towards her. “I need a glass of water.”

Jayce was quick to fetch it for her, and then both men were watching her intently as she drank, eyebrows raised. She sighed.

“Jayce has a point,” she said, apologetic eyes meeting Viktor’s. “This could very well be a blessing in disguise, Viktor.”

Jayce lifted his hands in an I told you so gesture that had Viktor rolling his eyes.

“But,” she continued, and both the men’s focuses returned to her. “Viktor is right that the risks of getting ahead of ourselves right now far outweigh the potential rewards.” It was Viktor’s turn to gloat, but he just smiled softly. “We don’t know if those plants will blacken and die. It may only take longer for them to do so.”

Viktor’s smile disappeared at that, before he nodded solemnly.

“Let’s monitor your power,” he said. “We will test it on more plants, on dying animals, and we will see what becomes of them.”

“Because sickly rats are more deserving of this power than you,” Jayce said, sharp eyes on Viktor’s profile as he watched her. Viktor ignored him, crossing the room to pull a mint plant from our withering collection.

Jayce’s eyes met Y/N’s, and she shook her head. He clenched his fists and was gone in an instant, the lab door slamming behind him.

��

Viktor’s next hospital visit was less shocking than the first. And the doctor’s advice was the same. Rest, rest, rest, he told Viktor. So your inevitable death will come a little later, was the bit he forgot to add.

By the time a disheveled Jayce walked through the door to the hospital room, Y/N had fallen asleep, curled awkwardly in a chair, her head resting on the foot of the bed. The lamb-skin gloves were on her hands—as they had been for the last two weeks except for when she was curing canaries and mice and mint plants. In her foggy, half-conscious haze, she heard the tail-end of a whispered conversation, voices floating above her like light from the core, reaching desperately through the space in between.

“You have to try,” said Jayce, his voice kinder than she’d heard it in weeks. “What is there to lose?”

“Without thinking about the potential consequences for me, we don’t know what the consequences for Y/N will be,” said Viktor, her first name feeling so out of place, like a confession she wasn’t meant to hear.

“Viktor—”

“She’s been curing plants and small animals, not human beings.”

“The Hexcore never gets any weaker,” Jayce countered. “It never dims, and that same power is in Y/N. You have to trust it.”

“I don’t. Not with her life,” came Viktor’s defeated voice.

She heard shuffling as Jayce stood and felt his warm hand on her back.

“She’d never try something if you didn’t approve,” he said. “Why don’t you give her a chance to choose for herself?” He paused. “Your life matters too, Viktor.”

She fell back asleep to images of yellow eyes closing for good, hands reaching out too late, and a cough somewhere in the distance.

—

A week in the lab until his next episode. A week during which Y/N cured a cat of pneumonia, developed a minor cough which had Viktor—for lack of better terms—flipping his shit, recovered quickly, and tried to convince him to get at least five hours of sleep every night (which he didn’t).

A week until the doctor came into Viktor’s hospital room with a frown and no longer told her he should rest more. There is no more delaying it, he said with just the defeated look in his eyes.

A week until Jayce had the same argument again—only this time with her.

“He’s dying, Y/N,” said Jayce, eyes flitting to Viktor’s sleeping form. “I’m begging you to at least try.”

She watched the way Viktor’s chest rose and fell beneath the blankets—each breath a monumental effort he might not have the strength to make again. She looked back at Jayce.

“It’s his life,” she said. “And he’s right. We don’t know what will happen.”

“I know you won’t just let him die,” Jayce said. “You care for him. Much more than you care for me.” She opened her mouth to counter, but he lifted his hand. “I’m not offended, Y/N. I only ask you to do what you’ve been wanting to do since the moment you made that rose bloom.”

He departed soon after that, muttering something about council business and leaving a kiss on her hairline, as if he was trying to transfer the will to cure him into her.

Viktor was right. Every test they had done had been successful, but they still didn’t know the long-term side effects—on her patients and on her. Viktor understood the ethics of research and nothing would make him flinch from that, not in a way that might hurt someone else. She understood that, truly she did.

But Jayce was right in a more pressing way. They didn’t have years to understand this ability. They had another month, if they were lucky. Viktor was dying anyway, and he would undoubtedly die if she sat here and did nothing. He deserved a chance, no matter how much he said he didn’t want it. And she was the only one who could give it to him.

She scooted her chair towards Viktor until there was no room left between it and the bed. She peeled off the lamb-skin gloves slowly, setting them on the bedside table. She stayed like that for a while, hands suspended in the air above his sleeping form, taking slow breaths in and out. She only shifted to wipe the tears that had started to trickle down her face.

“Viktor,” she breathed. His eyelids shifted, but he made no other movement. She started reaching for the gloves again, picturing his anger when he woke up, anger she never wanted directed at her. She stalled when she thought about him not waking up at all. The anger was preferable, she decided, fingers reaching for his face.

She felt static shock run through her body as her fingertips grazed his cheek. His eyelashes fluttered, and he leaned into her touch. Her other hand reached for his, twining their fingers together until her knuckles were colorless. When his eyes stilled again, she brought her other hand to his, pressing his hand between her palms and bringing it up to her face, planting kisses along his knuckles.

“I’m sorry,” she said into his skin. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

She fell asleep with her head against their tangle of hands.

—

She woke to an empty hospital bed, her cheek resting against the mussed-up blankets.

In her half-consciousness, she thought Viktor must have died in the night, and they’d already hauled away his body. She stood quickly, blood-rushing to her head and sending her on a quick trip to the floor, knees colliding with the cool stone. She cursed, suddenly conscious enough to realize they would have woken her if her dearest friend had passed on in his sleep. But the question remained: where was he? She stood, the action taking much more effort than usual, and stepped into the hall.

“Excuse me,” she said, stopping a nurse as she passed by. “Do you know where Viktor went?” she asked, gesturing to the empty bed behind her.

“He was discharged early this morning,” she said.

“Discharged? He was the sickest he’s ever been. How was he discharged?”

“The doctors are still trying to puzzle it out,” she shrugged. “But he was perfectly fine when he woke up. Left in a rush.”

Y/N stared open-mouthed and dumbfounded at the nurse as the truth dawned on her. The nurse lingered for a moment—most likely concerned by her notable absence of reaction—before continuing on her way. She stood in the doorway, completely motionless, as she realized what she’d done.

She cured him.

It worked.

Jayce was right.

She grabbed the gloves from the table and left, going to the one place she knew he’d be.

The lab was a mess when she got there, notes ripped from journals and scattered along table tops, pieces of hextech dangerously littered about the room. He looked like a mad scientist sitting in the middle of all of it—the mad scientist she had first met, with color in his cheeks and a light in his eyes she couldn’t believe had ever been gone.

But then those eyes turned on her, and the light became fire.

“What have you done?” He said, standing up on his cane and closing the distance between them.

“I don’t know.” Her voice was small, much smaller than she wished it to be.

“You don’t know?” He said, throwing his arms in the air. “Of course you do not! How can you? But luckily for you, I can enlighten you.” He paused, turning away from her. He ran a hand down his face as he considered how to continue. “You have cured me, Y/N,” he said eventually, barely looking over his shoulder at her. “I can breathe, I can walk about without nearly fainting, I can live.” He looked at her, and she found no gratitude in his eyes. “What did Jayce say to you? You said you would do nothing without my wish for you to do so. And I did not wish this.”

“Why?” she said, taking a step towards him. When he turned his face and refused to meet her eyes, she shook her head. “Maybe you had accepted your death, but I hadn’t. You were living on borrowed time, Viktor. Every trip to the hospital was one trip closer to your last, and I couldn’t watch you die. I couldn’t watch you let yourself not die, not when I have this.” She lifted her hands, and he finally looked at her, grimacing. “You said our work could help people, and I have just proven that it can, we—we should be celebrating, you bastard,” she said, her voice growing thinner. She took in a shaky breath. “You should be thanking me, you should—” She groaned, clenching her fists in an effort to slow the painful race of her heart. She sighed. “I don’t know why you were so happy to die, Viktor. But you deserve a chance. And I was the only one who could give it to you.”

“It was not your right,” he said slowly.

“I don’t care!” she said, throwing her arms up in the air. “You’re alive, Viktor! You’ll live for years and years to come; who gives a fuck who has the right? I wasn’t going to give you the right to die.”

He grunted and turned away from her, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just–I need a moment,” he said. She scoffed.

“Take a lifetime, Viktor,” she said, the door slamming shut behind her.

—

When Jayce heard the news, he was knocking on her apartment door (after visiting a moody Viktor, of course). He crushed her in a hug before she could say hello, lifting her off the ground and twirling her through the air like a ragdoll.

“It worked!” He said, setting her back down with his hands on the tops of her arms. “I told you it would!”

She stepped out of his grasp, walking further into her apartment. “But Viktor—”

“He’ll come around,” Jayce said, following her. “I know he will; he’s just mad he can’t be so morbid all the time now.”

She nodded, grabbing a mug from the cupboard. “Tea?”

Jayce smiled, pulling out a chair at her breakfast table. “You know me so well, Doctor.”

She sat down across from him a minute later, two cups of chamomile between them.

“I’m just—” Jayce started, his eyes fixated on something outside the window. “I’m just so relieved. For so long, we couldn’t do what we love. Everything was about Viktor getting better, as it should have been, and now—” He smiled. “—Now we go back to how it always was.”

She nodded, taking another sip of her tea. She nearly spilled it when a cough immediately ripped through her throat, followed by another cough, and another.

“You alright?” Jayce asked, setting down his cup and reaching a hesitant hand towards her.

“Wrong pipe,” she wheezed, standing up from her seat and clutching a hand to her chest. Jayce stood as well, hands hovering in front of him as if he didn’t know what to do.

“Doctor—”

“I’m fine,” she managed, walking to the sink and cupping her hands beneath the faucet, drinking mouthfuls of cold water.

“I don’t know if that’s going to—”

The water came back up immediately, followed by her breakfast as she emptied her stomach into the sink. Jayce was there, hands on her back as she continued to heave. “I’m fine,” she said again, although she didn’t think either of them believed it.

“You’re fine,” Jayce repeated, his hands going still on her back. “You just need to lay down, okay?” She nodded, following Jayce as he opened the door to her bedroom, peeling back the covers on her bed. He covered her up as soon as she crawled onto the mattress, closing the door and speaking a quiet feel better over her faint coughs.

—

“She needs a hospital,” said a hazy voice as she woke.

“I’m certain it’s just a minor cold or something,” replied a voice she recognized, Jayce’s face coming into view above her as she flitted my eyes open.

“Minor colds don’t have people vomiting and losing consciousness, Councilor.”

“She didn’t—”

She coughed as she woke, and both Jayce and—as she now recognized him—Dr. Haymin, Viktor’s physician, turned their focus on her.

“Dr. Cole, how are you feeling?”

“Fine,” she croaked out, clearing her throat at the sound of her voice and pushing her covers off. It was too hot. She was too hot. “Where’s Viktor?” she asked in her half-consciousness, knowing the last time she’d seen these two men in a room, there had been a third.

“At the lab,” Jayce said after a beat of silence. “I didn’t—he doesn’t need to worry. Right, Doctor?”

Dr. Haymin ignored him, speaking to Y/N instead. “I was just telling Councilor Talis how it might be safest for you in a hospital right now, just while we figure out what’s going on.”

She shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“Dr. Cole—”

“I just needed a bit of rest,” she said, standing and pushing past them into her kitchen. They followed her as she pulled a glass from her cupboard and filled it with water, taking slow, steady sips.

“I’ll stay with her for now, Dr. Haymin,” Jayce said. “If there are any further complications, I’ll take her to the hospital, alright?”

Dr. Haymin looked hesitantly between them before letting out a long sigh. “I want you both to know that in my professional opinion, she should be in a hospital right this minute.”

“I understand,” said Jayce.

Dr. Haymin left with a laundry list of symptoms to look out for, mentioning something about Y/N’s fingers turning blue as Jayce closed the door in his face.

“Alright,” said Jayce, walking back into the kitchen. “So, you’re fine?”

She nodded.

“Great. I’m late for official council business. I’ll come back around dinner time to check back on you. Sound good?”

“Sounds great,” she said, lifting her glass in his direction as he quickly followed in Dr. Haymin’s steps.

—

“I just wanted to apologize, even though my reaction was completely warranted and your behavior was—no, no,” Viktor mumbled to himself, hovering in the hallway outside her apartment. “The way I spoke to you was unacceptable, and I just wanted to apologize. I am obviously still infuriated at you, but I respect you, and I should have shown that, despite your complete dismissal of my autonomy and—no, no, no, no, shit.” He let out a deep breath. “Y/N, I want to be alive, I am happy I am alive, and I am sorry. I know you did what you did out of the goodness of your heart, and I am not mad at you, only at your recklessness—the recklessness Jayce inspired. I’m sorry for yelling, and I hope you can forgive me.”

He nodded sharply to himself before taking the final step to her door and knocking twice. When the seconds ticked by with no answer, he knocked again. “Dr. Cole?” He called. “It’s me, uh, Viktor. I understand if you do not wish to speak with me, but I promise I am not here to fight.” He paused, waiting for her to yell back from the other side telling him to go fuck himself. But there was nothing. “Dr. Cole?”

He tried the handle, and to his surprise, it gave, the door swinging open before him. “Dr. Cole?” He called again, stepping into her sunlit apartment. “Are you here?” Once he passed the threshold, he saw her, collapsed in a heap in front of her kitchen counter.

“Y/N!” He rushed towards her, leaning his cane against the counter and crouching down beside her body, his hand on her back rising with a shaky breath that had him sighing in relief. “Y/N, wake up,” he said softly, turning her over onto her back. His hands stilled at the sight of blood dried along her upper lip, one stream still tacky from her right nostril. “Y/N.” He shook her shoulder, perhaps a little rougher than he’d intended, and she coughed, her eyes flitting open and then squinting shut again at the brightness in the room. “Y/N, what happened?” He asked, the quiver in his voice telling them both that he already had a hypothesis.

“Viktor?” She said, opening her eyes halfway, and he opened his mouth to respond before she was overtaken with a fit of coughs, curling into herself and pressing her mouth into her elbow. “I’m–” cough “fine—” cough “I promise.”

He didn’t respond, he simply took a hold of her hand, straightening out the arm she had been coughing into and peering down at her elbow.

The white fabric was bright red—red like roses, like the roses still blooming in the lab window.

He didn’t even have the strength for another what have you done. He just squeezed his hand tightly around hers and closed his eyes.

“Viktor?”

He was silent for a long while before he responded with a broken sob, his other hand coming up to cover his face as he cried openly. Y/N sat up, wrapping her arm around his back and pulling him into her, their hands still locked together between them.

“I’ll be fine,” she whispered into his shoulder, which only made him cry harder.

“This was not your disease to live with,” he said, pulling back to look at her and speaking aloud what they had both realized by now. “To—to die—”

“Hey,” she said, hand coming up to cradle the side of his face. “It wasn’t yours either. No one deserves this, but I–I am carrying it now, so, just—let it be, okay?”

“I–I should have seen this. You were dehydrated all the time from the plants, and your cough from the-the cat—”

She dipped her head, forcing him to meet her eyes.

“Viktor,” she breathed. “I wouldn’t take it back.”

“I wouldn’t have let you do it,” he said, not in anger, but in a remorse so heavy she didn’t know how he carried it on his own.

She turned away to cough again, and Viktor couldn’t find the strength to yell at her for this. Jayce, he would obliterate the next time he saw him, but not her.

“We should probably get you to a hospital,” he said instead, and she sighed once the coughing fit subsided.

“They can’t–they can’t do anything,” she said softly. “I think I’d just prefer to be here.”

He frowned, but said nothing. Instead, he helped her up and guided her to her bedroom, peeling back the covers much like Jayce had earlier that morning. Except Viktor stayed, pulling an armchair to the side of her bed and sinking into it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you,” she said through a yawn, pulling the covers up to her chin.

“Don’t apologize, Y/N,” he replied, and she closed her eyes. “I’ll find a way to fix this,” he added, but she had already drifted off.

—

He brought Y/N back to the lab as soon as she was rested enough, and she sat on the bench by the window as he worked, resting her head against the glass. When Jayce arrived a few hours later, he was surprised to see them both there, and at the way Viktor tensed at his friend’s cheery hello, she stood and decided to use this opportune moment to use the bathroom. When she came back there was still muffled yelling through the door and she waited outside, wanting nothing to do with this conflict—even if, in a way, she had caused it. Jayce burst into the hallway a few moments later his eyes wide and red-rimmed.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. If I had known, I would never—”

“It’s okay, Jayce,” she said, resting her hands on his arms. “We both wanted what was best for him.”

“But, I-I left you,” he choked out in a whisper that made her realize he had definitely not told Viktor that part. “I really believed you were fine, or maybe I was just in denial, I—”

“Hey,” she cut him off. “It’s happened and we can’t take it back. I’m at peace with it, okay? Anything you think you’ve done wrong, I forgive you for.”

Jayce pulled her into him, crushing her in a hug, his chin resting on the top of her head. “I’m still sorry,” he said. She pulled back and smiled at him, before taking a step back towards the door. Jayce took a step in the other direction, faltering for a second as he watched her disappear into the lab.

—

For four hours—maybe five—Viktor tossed theories and possible cures at her, most of which she had already researched herself when Viktor was sick. She explained the downsides, the impossibilities, the potential of rumfish oil, if strained properly. But Viktor had more and more ideas. For every hypothesis she countered, he had another one ready, each more desperate and mad than the last.

“Viktor,” she finally said, cutting off his long-winded explanation of an incident involving tempar eels and a woman cured of heart palpitations. “Can we—save this for tomorrow? I’m tired. I don’t know how you were working all the time, because I’m just—drained. I’d like to have dinner and go to bed, if that’s okay.”

Viktor paused, before nodding slowly. “Of course. I’ll walk you to your room.”

She pulled a jar of soup out of her cabinet once they got back to her apartment, Viktor grabbing a pot and placing it on the stove without a thought. She tried to open the jar, her fingers straining against the lid, but she couldn’t get it to budge. Viktor noticed and quietly came up behind her, reaching out his hands.

“I got it,” she insisted, trying again. And again. Why was this happening? She was young and strong, and she’d never had trouble opening a goddamn jar of soup.

“Y/N, let me—”

“I got it,” she said, sharper than she intended. The shock of her outburst made all anger and spite and will drain out of her quickly, and she slumped, placing the jar in Viktor’s outstretched hands. He turned away towards the stove, and she didn’t even see him open it, but she heard the sound of the liquid filling the pot.

“Sorry.”

��No need for apologies, Dr. Cole,” he said.

Dr. Cole. What happened that he couldn’t call her by her first name, the name she’d grown accustomed to hearing from him? What sort of distance did he need? What sort of space was he trying to restore? Maybe before he had distanced himself because he knew any connection wouldn’t last, that soon enough he’d be dead. And now he knew that soon enough she’d be dead in his place. Dr. Cole, Dr. Cole, Dr. Cole. Both a cruelty and a mercy.

“Where are your bowls?”

She pulled two bowls from the cabinet beside her and walked over to the stove, ignoring his raised eyebrows at the second one. He didn’t protest though, pouring soup into both bowls until the pot was empty.

“Tell me what you’ll do,” she said as he washed their bowls in the sink a little later, the soup resting heavy in their stomachs.

“What?”

“With all this time, this life—what will you do?”

For a moment, she thought he hadn’t heard her, but eventually he turned off the sink, placing the bowls on a towel to dry and turned back towards her.

“I’d had a lot of time to think about how I wanted to die, Dr. Cole,” he said softly. “I didn’t ever consider how I wanted to live.”

“Well consider it now,” she said. “Consider Viktor at forty, at fifty, at seventy-five. What are you doing?”

“Sailing west,” he said almost instantly. “Buying a house on some island in the Morian sea.”

“So you have thought about it.”

He hummed, crossing the kitchen to sit down at the table.

“Would you stay there all year? Or just in the summers?” she asked, sitting down opposite him.

“All year,” he said. “Jayce could send me his theories, and I could send him mine, but I’d never have to hear about the political plights of Piltover. Because this is of course after I have provided plentiful resources to the undercity, and worked tirelessly to erase the stigma surrounding its residents.”

“Of course,” she said. “Any children?”

“Three daughters,” he said, and she chuckled at his certainty. “Alexandra is the oldest, named for her grandmother. And then there’s Danika in the middle, and the youngest, Y/N, named after her—”

Silence swallowed everything around us, enough for the sound of children laughing and beach waves hitting the shore to rise in my mind. A small, curly-haired girl, named for her mother, smiling in my direction. Three children clinging to their father’s arms.

“After her father’s most stubborn employee?”

After another beat of silence, she reached for his hand across the table.

“It was never meant for us, either way,” she said, and he met her eyes. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he said. “Not when I’m the one living to grieve it.”

“Thought you had secured the easy way out, huh?” At her words, he met her eyes with alarm, his gaze quickly softening at the mischief he found there.

“I was counting on it,” he said.

“Well, that’s awfully rude of you,” she said. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you ladies first?”

He smiled, but something flickered out in his eyes. “Let’s not joke about this.” She nodded, and he stood, offering her his hand. “Bed?”

“Bed,” she confirmed, following him to her bedroom and climbing under the covers. He turned to leave and something clenched in her chest. “Viktor?”

He paused. She considered the distance, the Dr. Coles he had given her when he knew he was dying, when he knew any affection he offered would ultimately be ripped away. She thought of his admission, of the future he saw, and the present he had sacrificed selflessly. She thought of how truly good he was, and how she needed to be good too, how she couldn’t ask anything of him, not now. But she didn’t need to, apparently.

He had kicked off his shoes and propped his cane against the nightstand before she asked the question, slipping under the covers without a word.

“You don’t have to—”

“Have me, if you will,” he said, his eyes already closing. As if sightlessly sensing the guilt wracking her face, he continued, “It isn’t selfish, Y/N.” He opened his eyes. “I’ll take any time you’ll give me.”

And so she rolled over and went to sleep.

—

The time she could give him was a month, probably less, according to Dr. Haymin. Viktor had forced her to go to the hospital the next morning—just to see where we stand—and she felt better, oddly, knowing exactly what she had left.

They spent the day at the harbor, and she bought Viktor his first street kebab, laughing at the way he gingerly plucked half-cooked meat from the stick and eyed it with distrust. Y/N spent the night in bed, Viktor spent it in the lab. Jayce and Mel visited her the next day, and Mel brought a bouquet of tulips this time, leaving them on the kitchen table for Viktor to find when he reappeared in her apartment around lunchtime. The circles beneath his eyes and the tired lift of his smile told her he hadn’t found the miracle he’d been looking for. He took her to the art museum, and sat on a bench in the main gallery with her for an hour when she was too tired to keep walking. She invented backstories for all the characters in the portraits, spun creation myths for the landscapes, and Viktor listened. When she fell asleep on his shoulder, he asked an employee if they had a wheelchair available, and then he took her back home. When she crawled into bed, she told him she couldn’t remember where they had been, and he regaled to her her own story of how a fairy grew tired of the nightime and smashed together a thousand stars to make the sun, and that’s why Dialucci could paint the sunrise. She went to sleep, and Viktor stayed with her.

The next morning, she couldn’t get out of bed.

Two mornings after that, she couldn’t keep down any food he tried to give her, and he asked Dr. Haymin to come see her again.

“You have days,” he told Viktor outside her room. “In truth, she could go at any moment.”

“Will you smash some more stars together to make another sun?” She asked when Viktor came back inside her bedroom, the sound of Dr. Haymin closing the front door barely audible. “So it’s daytime for the rest of my life?”

“I’ll do my best.”

She sat up, leaning back against the pillows at the headboard and patted the space before her, beckoning him to sit. He did. “Even if it will dry up the atmosphere and slowly burn the earth to a crisp?”

“Even then.”

She smiled, closing her eyes. “What did he say?”

He scooted back until he was leaning against the pillows as well, opening his arms for her to fall into.

“I’ll name the second sun after you,” he said.

“Okay,” she breathed. “But if it starts killing everybody, rename it.”

He laughed, squeezing his arms tighter around her, letting the silence envelop them both, peaceful and kind for once. “I know you won’t accept an apology,” he said eventually, “But I want to give it nonetheless.”

“Who said I wouldn’t accept an apology?” She pulled back to look at him and he raised his brows. “It all depends on the delivery.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Won’t cut it,” she said, shaking her head.

“You deserved better?”

“Not it.”

“I’ll miss you?”

“Not quite.”

“I love you?”

She paused. “Getting close.”

He lifted his hand, using his finger to brush her hair out of her eyes. When she closed them, he leaned down, the tips of their noses brushing, their breaths meeting in the middle. She was the one to close the distance, but he was the one to kiss her, to press every unspoken thing into her mouth for safekeeping, to take with her wherever she’d go. When she pulled away, there were tears in both their eyes, and her voice cracked when she quietly said, “Apology accepted.”

When Viktor woke up the next morning, the skin of her arm was growing rapidly cold beneath his fingertips, the first rays of light from the one and only sun illuminating the blue-gray color beneath her complexion. He kissed her forehead, and the tip of her nose, and her lips, and her cheek, and her eyelids. “I forgive you too,” he said, her body falling limp against the sheets as he got up.

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hyperesthesias · 1 year ago

Text

Foresight & Respite

Notes: Boring. My inner Bronte came out again. Sorry. (I promise the next chapter [after Starlight Immemorial] is going to be really good. Viktor will have a spiritual sexual awakening.)

Context: Anya and Viktor are childhood friends from Zaun, who reconnected six months ago. Anya is a mage, theoretical physicist, and wealthy donor to the Academy. She is a different humanoid species, who lives for centuries. She has previously offered to become Viktor's patron, but he has worries about being unable to repay her. Anya is worried Viktor is being overworked, and offers her patronage again. They have their 'first fight'. Starlight Immemorial directly follows this chapter.

Tag List: @uniquedeerwitch @funcoolchickie (Please let me know if you would like to be tagged!)

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Days elapsed into weeks after the Symphony Ball, in which Viktor could not recall a time in his life spent without Anya. He was required to chaperone her to presentations and proposals given by department heads from the physics and astronomy college, where she listened with great attention and happiness to hear of the progress being made in the concept of light travel. After a myriad of lectures, she confided in Viktor that she had a contact at the energy research facility where she used to work, who had access to a hadron collider.

“Perhaps I can ask her for an appointment with the laboratory where it is located,” she suggested, excitedly. She walked with her companion among the halls of the Academy, from the physics college to the engineering department, where Viktor was set to lead the next lecture of Engineering 101. “That way, maybe you and your partner might be able to find some answers about the crystal, and what it can do.”

Viktor nodded and put the back of his hand, occupied with his daily notebook, to his mouth as he yawned.

“Certainly, I know the idea of visiting a hadron collider cannot be boring you,” she eyed him. “How much sleep did you get last night?” she asked and leaned to see his face.

He tried to shy away from her prying judgment, but he conceded to her concern. “I got enough.”

“Your body disagrees.”

“My body disagrees with everything,” he miffed. They turned into the lecture hall, where he held the door open for her. The classroom was empty, and it allowed them to prepare for the first wave of students for the day. He settled himself at his desk, and set his notebook down, opening its pages to the lesson plan of the day.

Anya pulled down the chalkboards and erased the previous day’s scrawlings. “You do too much, Viktor. You cannot subsist on caffeine and curiosity alone.”

“It has worked so far,” he glanced at her.

She huffed and returned his look as she wandered to the edge of his desk, where a pile of papers sat, waiting to be distributed. “Have you thought about my offer?” She picked them up, and waited to see if he would reply.

His sight broke from his notebook, but he did not look her in the eye; he did not have the wherewithal. Her offer had been exceedingly generous, and while its promise had crossed his mind repeatedly in the weeks they spent together, he gave it neither credence, nor consideration. Anya was the cause of so much gratitude in his life already, that should she be his benefactress, he would be indebted to her forever.

“My offer will always stand, Viktor. It will not expire,” she said, without a reply from him.

She passed out each paper to each desk within the lecture hall, and when she was finished, took her place at the side of his desk, waiting for the students to arrive. She found great joy in participating in the class as an aid – from distributing papers, to quietly answering students’ questions, and lulling a student’s infant, who lain restless in her mother’s arms during afternoon lectures. Being present there allowed her to mull over aspects of engineering she did not normally have the opportunity to think about. Though she, also, was adept in the mechanics of engineering, her work in the energy research lab had been primarily dedicated to the theoretical applications of light and radiation. She vigorously applied herself to the study of quantum energy, and how to pass an object of light from one point in time to another. Her desire was always to see the stars and mingle among them – one day, she promised herself, perhaps two hundred years thence, she would be able to see them for herself. But her calculations and her sciences had all been theoretical. Viktor was the machinist, even as a child – able to create a seemingly living thing from nothing at all: mechanized trinkets and autonomous beings that relieved his responsibilities of chores. Together, their knowledge was enviable and dynamic.

Two classes passed the day, and by the third, Viktor finished his second cup of coffee. He disliked its bitter taste, though Anya always had it sweetened perfectly to his liking. As the students filed in and began their quiz, he realized he did not know how Anya ordered his coffee, only that she knew to appeal it to his palate. The intimacy of his interests being perceived by another was foreign to him, though not unwelcome.

The class completed their quiz quietly and without incident, and Viktor leaned forward onto his desk to relieve pressure from his spine. He remained there for the entirety of the test, and by the time every student was finished, Viktor was still languid on his table. Anya peered over his shoulder, and saw his eyes closed, and his breath heavy and idle. He was asleep. She smiled to herself and ventured to wake him, but he did not rouse with her attempts.

Anya stood from grading papers, and gently took his notebook from under his elbow, where she read through the lesson plan he had written out: it was half in their native language, and half in the common tongue. The class was simple, and there were no topics of which she was unfamiliar, thus she proceeded to teach the final class of the day.

She enjoyed it thoroughly, and answered every question with grace and knowledge. She was a patient teacher, who expounded when necessary, and who had no qualms in walking among her students when they needed individual assistance. When her lecture was almost complete, the infant who was regularly toted to classes with her mother, began to fuss and whimper; Anya did not hesitate in continuing her offer to soothe the child – she had a pointer in one hand, and the infant in the other as she finished the lecture.

Viktor woke to the sound of students bustling and chairs scraping against the flooring. He was mildly disoriented, and could not perceive the time. When he opened his eyes, he saw his class filing to exit, and Anya at the head of the room smiling and playing with the child in her arms. Its mother was approaching her from the rear of the class, but Anya did not rush her or show her any impatience or malice. Instead, she took the child’s hands as they reached for the shimmering fabric of her veil, and kissed them. Viktor felt as if he was woken to another dream.

As the child was returned to its mother, Anya returned to Viktor’s side with a soft smile. She traced a finger along the edge of his face and placed her hand on his upper arm. “You cannot outrun your mortal needs forever,” she said.

He let a long sigh, and rolled his brow along his arm. “I can’t sleep.” He forced himself to sit upright and stand – he leaned heavily on his cane as he forced his exhausted legs to move against their will.

Anya began to pack their belongings and reset the classroom. “What troubles you?”

By the time she finished, he made it to the exit, where he held open the door for her. He leaned against its frame as he thought on how to answer her. “The night Jayce and I unlocked the crystal’s potential – the feeling of being weightless – it was…incredible.” He looked at her as she came to his side, still trying to find the words to describe it. “I felt…whole, again. A feeling I have not had since my earliest memories. Something I long to recreate.” They began to walk the halls of the Academy, towards his apartment near the laboratory. “My every waking moment is spent trying to decipher it, trying to apply it in a way where others can feel its benefit – where I can feel its benefit, again. But my energy is limited, and there are only so many hours in a day, until my body can no longer function.”

Anya remained quiet for a while, until they approached his apartment door, and she asked again: “Why will you not accept my offer of patronage?” Frustration laced her voice, that her friend would not accept a gift she readily gave: “Is it pride?”

He furrowed, offended, and unlocked his door. “No, it is not pride.”

“What is it, then?”

“It is unfair,” he insisted.

“If my offer is not enough, I can amend it –”

“It is unfair that I have nothing to give you in return,” he said.

“I do not want you to repay me. I want only your wellbeing.”

“No, Anya,” he contended. “You are stubborn.”

She drew back, insulted, but ventured to assume his ire was due to his lack of sleep. “I am not the only one who is obstinate.” Satisfied that her friend was safely returned to his home, she quitted him and the Academy.

Viktor sighed and leaned his head on the doorframe of his apartment. He had a preternatural fear of power imbalances and debts he could not repay. He saw them paid for in blood and slavery as a child in Zaun, and he vowed never to be placed in a position that could indenture him to the will of another.

As he settled himself into his apartment – removing his shoes and his tie as he reclined on the sofa, with a hand over his eyes – he felt foolish for projecting his fear onto Anya. She, of all others in his life, knew the primal fear of subjugation, and he felt ashamed that he would – even subconsciously – presume her of such a sin. The offer of her patronage was a reflection of herself: pure and kind-hearted, with little expectation of return; he called to mind the afternoons as children, where they would sit in silence, and she never attempted to pry from him a word or an answer. She was not stubborn for the sake of stubbornness itself, but she was eager in her generosity, a trait which was foreign to him.

He reached for a drawer in the side table, and made from it a discreet pillbox; he took from it two pills and swallowed them dry. As his eyes drifted closed, he pondered the wording of the apology he owed her, which he would present to her the next day.

Viktor arrived at the lab in the late morning – he fell asleep on the couch, and remained there for the duration of the night; his back was sore, and his neck was stiff, it took him a half hour more than usual to ready himself for the day. When he arrived, he heard Jayce’s voice and laughter, and Viktor opened his notebook, searching for a scheduled meeting or a projected visitor; he found none in his calendar.

Instead, as he entered the lab, he saw Anya standing over the workbench, she listened as Jayce described his vision for HexTech to her. She had her own notebook on the bench, with notations and suggestions written in their native language, which Jayce could not read.

“Viktor!” Jayce called to him. “Man of the hour. I was just telling our visitor about how you used mechanical resonance to stabilize the crystal.” While his words were true, he hoped their emphasis made a positive and lasting impression on Miss Anya.

Viktor eyed Anya and greeted her with a light bow of his head. She returned the gesture, but said nothing. “It was simple, really,” he cleared his throat, averting his gaze from her. “Crystals operate vibrationally – all it needed was some tuning.”

“And is it tuned now?” Anya raised a brow, referring to his attitude, rather than the crystal.

He nodded once, and pursed his lips, still shying himself from her regard. “Yes. It is…tuned.” Viktor gathered his decorum and straightened his back with a wince as he motioned from her to his partner. “Jayce, this is Miss Anya. She is a donor to the Academy; she graduated here from the Physics and Astronomy Department.”

“She’s more than that – she told me she’s the contact you’ve been sharing our notes with.”

Viktor looked at her, pleased that she felt safe enough to divulge part of her involvement. “Yes, Miss Anya and I have worked together before.”

She took her notebook and began to approach Viktor. “We are friends.”

Viktor knew she meant to educate Jayce on the nature of their relationship, but he also knew it was a reminder for him. He spent years friendless and alone, that he knew the reminder of its meaning was necessary. “Indeed.”

“May I speak with you, Viktor?” she asked.

“Please,” he agreed and motioned for the hallway outside the lab.

Jayce watched the pair exit the lab and disappear into the shadows; he could hear vague words in another tongue, hushed and reticent, and he wondered how they knew each other. Viktor never spoke of a romantic interest – he rarely divulged personal details about himself at all. But he recognized in Viktor a look of indelible love – great admiration and awe: he looked on her as if she were carved of marble, sacred and haunted, possessed with the spirit of some greater thing than he.

“I wanted to apologise for yesterday afternoon,” Anya said.

Viktor shook his head, adamantly. “No – it is I who should apologise.”

“I did not mean to pressure you, or make you feel uncomfortable,” she continued.

He sighed and put his head in his hand. “If I felt any discomfort, it was of my own making – not yours,” he paused and shook his head again. She looked on him with worried eyes, and saw what lay beneath him. It was futile to lie to her, or obscure any truth about himself. “I want to accept your offer. But nothing I do will ever be enough to repay you.”

“I know this worry weighs heavily on your heart,” she said and took his hands. “I have thought of a solution: I will be not only your patron, but your investor. That way, anything I have given to you, will be inherently paid off by the work you produce. You will never have to worry about a debt unfulfilled.”

His shoulders dropped as his breath fled from him, and a weight was relieved from his soul.

“Will you accept my offer, with these conditions?”

He nodded, still breathless, and his hands held onto hers with gratitude. “I do.”

“I hate to see you so tired…” she passed one hand along the darkness gathered beneath his eyes, “...my dear Viktor.”

“Forgive me for how I acted yesterday,” he said and kissed her hand. “My mind has been tired, and I have not felt myself.”

“Hopefully now you can rest – unworried about provision. Rest – though I know you despise it –, and dedicate yourself to the science you love. Leave the assistant work behind. You work for no one, but yourself."

"And Jayce."

Anya looked towards the lab, where the broad outline of his newfound friend could be seen in the distance. She hummed, unconvinced. “He is young. But he speaks with such conviction.”

“You doubt him?”

“I do not doubt his intentions for the good of all sentient beings, but he is sure of himself, and of his goals. Such conviction can make someone blind. It can cultivate hubris.” She looked at Viktor again, and pressed her fingers into his. “Follow your endeavours wherever they might take you – but do not forget yourself, my dear Viktor. Stay, always, my wonderful friend.”

He looked on her with curiosity, but heeded her nonetheless; his thumbs caressed the tops of her hands, and he nodded carefully in agreement. Her kind were blessed with the gifts of magic and foresight, and he wondered if there was some figment of the future to which she had been privy; but he hesitated to ask, and found himself afraid of her answer.

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ficfanatictrf · 2 years ago

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The Night Stand (Part 8)

Summary: After waking up the following morning, everything finally fits itself together in Viktor's mind.

Word Count : 2.5k

Edited and Proofread by nobody...

A/N - I apologize for not writing for a long while. Things have been rather difficult and as such all creativity has felt like pulling teeth. Hopefully this wasn't horrible...

@cheeriecherrymain and @fairy-writes - thank you both for reaching out to see if I was alright. I was blown away that not just one, but two people actually cared to check in on me. I am just used to being the one that takes care of other and not the other way around so it was different. And seriously...thank you for that.

---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----

When he had snuck into your hospital room the night before, he had been planning on being able to just see that you were alright. He had just needed to see you, to know that you were safe and healthy.

It had been his own anxiety and nerves that hadn’t allowed him to remain away any longer. Knowing that you might be hurt by the flowers that Jayce had mistakenly brought to you? That had just cemented the fact that he had no other choice but to slip into your room that night.

However, the one thing that he had not expected and had not wished to remain there the whole night and find himself blinking awake to find that the sun was beginning to rise.

To say that his heart nearly stopped would have been an understatement. The sheer panic engulfing him in mere seconds as his mind caught up to just what the situation was.

At night there were far fewer employees and guards, there not being many that would really attempt to break into a hospital of all places in Piltover. But with the day shift beginning to make their way in for their shift, that just meant that it would be nearly impossible to escape without being seen. Without it being clear just who he had been here to see…knowing that they would begin to question why he had been so instant to seeing this pregnant woman, why he had such a need to be around this unborn child - a child whose father had yet to be named.

It broke his heart to slip from your hold, the soft whines that escaped from you nearly bringing him to tears as all he truly wished for was to remain with you. In that moment, he would have given anything in the world to just have the ability to hold you till you awoke. To kiss you good morning, to make you breakfast in bed and to see that pretty flush on your cheeks when you brought it in - making sure that it was made exactly how you liked.

Ah.

It would appear that he had figured out where he had been making such a grave error in his thinking till then. He knew that what he was feeling for you was love, that was undoubtable. But it had taken him to lament about all that he wished he could have with you that it finally became clear to him that the things that he had wanted with you…were undoubtedly the very same things you wanted from him.

You had tried to say as much and yet he had only been thinking about all the negatives that could come from the two of you being together. The health issues, the rude comments, the hostile looks, all of these were things that he still knew that you would receive if he were to claim this child.

However, as he looked down at your sleeping self, just how peaceful and content you were in that moment. He knew that if the roles were reversed, if you were the one pushing him away before you believed that you were damning him…he would give up all he had to simply just have you. To have you despite all the negatives that could and would come along with it.

He had been deciding your life for you, never allowing you to have a decision on where the two of you would go from there. If you knew about all the hostility towards those from the Undercity, would you still choose to remain by his side? Would you want him to be named as the father? The sad fact was that he didn’t know. Not because you wouldn’t answer, but because he had never asked - he had never allowed you to know everything that you would need to know to make a decision.

He was of a mind now to explain everything to you once you were feeling better, planning on coming back the following night just like he had done the night before.

But life seemed to have determined that he had pushed the conversation off long enough.

He had not even made it down the first hallway before he had needed to double back in hopes of avoiding one of the many nurses that were already starting to be making their morning rounds. Only to nearly run right into a doctor that was leaving a different patient's room.

With the two of them crashing to the ground, his cane painfully dug into his side as he did his best to remain on his feet. He didn’t waste any time in rushing back to your room, tripping a few times as he did so.

“Security!”

Panic shot through him as he rushed through the door, slamming and locking it behind him before he began looking through the room for anything that would help him gain a bit more time.

The man was vaguely aware of the fact that you had awoken and were rising from your bed as he was quickly finding anything that would allow him to makeshift a way to keep the door closed even if they unlocked the door.

He needed more time, that was all he could think as he strung the door to the furniture near it in the hopes of keeping the door in place.

“V-Viktor? Viktor, what are you doing?”

Using one of the IV poles in the room to create even more of a barrier, he hoped that it would be enough to at least give him enough time.

“Something I should have done weeks ago” He said, moving to gently pull you to sit back down on the bed, all the while he nervously ran his fingers over the back of your hand in the hopes of calming his nerves.

“There is much that made it so I didn’t wish to claim the child. None of which had anything to do with you, you have done nothing but make me long for the privilege to claim this child as ours. I am aware you are from Piltover and as such will probably not know of many of the policies and rules that are set up against those of us from the Undercity -”

A loud crash was heard from the door, like someone had tried to open it only to end up fully stepping into the door when it didn’t budge. The sounds only seemed to grow louder, more and more people beginning to take notice of the fact that there was someone unwanted having barricaded himself inside one of the patients’ rooms.

And yet, that did nothing to stop Viktor from explaining what he felt he needed to do.

“Most hospitals refuse to treat us. That is why I haven’t been here. I am not allowed on the premises.” Freeing one of his hands, he reached out to gently place it on your stomach, his eyes flickering from where his hand was placed and back up at your eyes.

“I have no doubt passed on my health issues to this child. It will need more care than most, so I need you to decide. I need you to know everything and decide on what you wish for me to do.”

A heavy slam was heard against the door, this time causing panic to steadily grow in Viktor’s golden hued eyes.

“Believe me. I want to claim this child. You would be making me a father, a thing I never even dared to dream about. And it would be with you, a person I adore and cherish. To have a child in such a situation is a miracle.”

“Wait, please…back up, they didn’t allow you here? They don’t give you health care when you clearly need it because of such nonsense and bullshit as that?!” You could feel the beginnings of a burning starting to build, now aware of just one of the large pieces to the puzzle. It fits into place to explain so many of the things that Viktor had been so vague about in the past. Why he thought he was ‘damning’ their child by claiming it, why he didn’t wish for others to know that it was his while doing hours and hours of research on how to be the best father he could be - it all finally clicked into place.

“D-don’t get worked up, Love, please please…the baby..”

Pushing him away, you were back to your feet and heading to the door - already working on removing the items in the way.

“Darling, stop”

Ignoring him completely, it didn’t take you long to remove the barriers that were keeping the door closed.

And to say you got satisfaction from the looks on everyone’s faces when you wrenched open the door was an understatement.

“Get me the fucking person in charge of this place!”

“M-maam, you need to return to bed. It is not good for the baby”

The poor nurse that had spoken to you was the first on your shit list, the rage that was steadily growing to an all engulfing inferno being directed at her first simply because she spoke to you about the baby.

“Don’t you dare talk to me about my child. Not after I’ve now been made aware of the fact that you have been the cause for why the father of my child hasn’t been able to see me!”

You didn’t even seem to care about the looks they shot at the two of you, much too preoccupied with the one guard that seemed to be trying to slip past you to get closed to where Viktor was standing - the world soon having a twinge of red as the rage before was completely overshadowed.

“You touch him and I will kill you.”

The man froze, clearly taken aback by such bloodthirsty hate being directed at him from someone who had been nothing but kind only days if not hours before.

Pushing him roughly and rather cruelly aside, you went and took hold of your lover’s hand to pull him behind you. Already he was fretting over you, being far too preoccupied with wanting to keep you steady than anything else.

“Darling, please…you know as well as I that during pregnancy that you will have hormones that make it easier for you to become enraged, but please breathe. For me, my love, breathe.”

Glancing over at him, it took only the look in his eyes, the love that clearly was shown as well as the concern that was etched into every feature to finally start to put out the burning inferno that was eating you up from the inside.

Taking a deep breath, a shaky breath out as you tried to control your emotions - the rest of the staff watched as Viktor was able to finally get your attention to be on something other than those around you.

However, all of that was dashed as the hospital’s CEO was making his way down the hallways towards the large crowd.

Wrenching your hands away from Viktor’s hold, you marched towards him to meet him halfway - not even wasting a second thought on what you were going to do as you slapped him across the face with as much force as you physically could.

You were getting ready to swing again before you felt the inventor’s touch return, pulling you away from the man with a gentleness that wouldn’t have worked for anyone else but him.

“What is wrong with you?!”

“What is wrong with all of you?!?” You screamed, never feeling this level of hate and rage ever in your life before. It finally made sense what all the papers had said about pregnancy rage being something that wouldn’t completely take over.

“Denying care to someone who needs it simply because of where he was born?! You should all be ashamed to call yourself healers! You will regret ever meeting me, ever keeping me here when I asked to be released, when I demanded to be let to go home. Yet all you had to say was that I needed my husband for that to be possible -”

The grip on you stiffened as information that even Viktor hadn’t been aware of came to light.

“We are leaving. You will not touch him, you will not do a single thing to him. Believe me, I will already be raining hell on you and all the hospitals in Piltover over the shit I’ve learned but I dare you to make it worse - I fucking dare you to make my hate grow”

You were sick of all of them, of looking at their dumb faces as they glanced between themselves as they knew just how annoying this was most likely going to become. Because it was true, you would not rest until the policy was changed, until the rules that not only hurt those across the bridge were erased but till even such policies like a pregnant woman needing her husband there to be released - the audacity to act like she wasn’t a complete person without a man standing there beside her.

The whole way out, nobody said a word to the pair of you as you left - Viktor all the while being nothing but attentive as he asked if you needed a drink, needed a jacket, needed a hug. All the while peppering kisses against your cheek and hands as he helped you out of the hospital.

“Viktor-” You started, the exhaustion finally catching up to you from everything that just happened, weakly pushing him away as he tried to press a kiss to your temple this time.

“Viktor please, just….I just want to lay with you, to hear you tell me everything will be alright. Please..”

As he took in just how worn on you looked, the decision was simple. And with his place being closer than yours, he figured that was where you would be staying from now on. Already, as he carefully led you to his home, he was going through all the things he would need to get for you.

"Of course, anything for you"

He would take care of you.

There was no way that the disaster that had taken place wouldn’t get out.

He was now the child’s father.

There was no going back on that now, not that he wanted to, but he wouldn’t stand by the sidelines any longer.

This was his child.

You were the mother of his child.

And as he glanced over at you, he felt an odd sense of peace as he knew he could do this.

Nobody would mistreat you or the child on his watch.

He would make sure of it.

---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----

Taglist: @cheeriecherrymain@fairy-writes@thehistoriangirl@aikoiya@piperdoodles@alternate--simp@vmyths@luixiv@linky-dinks@bruh-anator3000@somethingthatsaysbubbles

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beesincognito · 2 years ago

Text

Perfect Strangers- part thirteen: The Jubilee

sorry I fixed the title!!!

Viktor x Fem!reader (NSFW)

part twelve part fourteen (start here!)

Takes place before Arcane and works its way there, did my best to combine the different versions of lore. (nsfw in parts)

(you and Viktor meet on your first day at the academy and bond over being habitual, awkward loners. The story revolves around class issues and a sense of belonging mixed with lore and Arcane plot.)

*warnings: sexual content & parental issues*

Word count: 4,434

******

Viktor stood idly in his dorm, hands messing with the knot of his white tie to loosen it after a long day. You were off on a friend date with Sky and told him to not wait up, so he was doing exactly the opposite of your recommendation and keeping himself busy until you returned. Taking work home with him was becoming less of an issue as he was settled into the role of Heimerdinger’s assistant more so than when he first started. It made his home life with you balanced and stress free in comparison to the early days. Even enjoying nights where you taught him how to cook in favor of going out in public for a dinner date.

The week was drawing to a close and soon another celebration would wash over Piltover, trickling down into Zaun like rain through a leaking ceiling.

City celebrations were usually lost on you as a couple, even when you had been just friends trying to navigate your separate cultures and upbringings. Progress Day was the only celebration you ever really participated in with Viktor, consisting primarily of a quick walk around the festival out of curiosity and maybe attending a few lectures, given the history of the sister cities and how Zaun viewed the day compared to Piltover. You both treated it more like a day of extracurricular academics in the past than a true day of festivities with the rest of the city in tow.

Viktor was unlike some of his fellow Zaunites that looked at Progress Day celebrations with a vague sense of disdain. Even that was generally uncommon save for a small sum of Zaunites that held firmly to the past. He enjoyed seeing the new inventions and innovations gaggles of young inventors and old masters would bring to the metaphorical table on display for all of Piltover to see. He once shared the history of Progress Day with you, since you lived in Piltover your entire life you only saw it as a day of prosperity and celebration.

The Sun Gates were large and commanded the attention of those in the undercity as it walled in the entire eastern side of the city that was already situated below the cliffs that made up Piltover. It was like a dam, allowing ships to come to port and trade with the growing city thousands of years after Zaun had been the true origin of innovation and genius before money began passing through the hands of topsiders instead. The opening of the Sun Gates led to a detrimental flood that wiped out entire districts in Zaun, mercilessly killing those that had no warning of the geological disaster so close to The Cliff.

Despite the history and bad-blood between some citizens, Zaunites would still emerge from the depth of their city to take part in the festivities of Progress Day. Showcasing their chemtech augmentations and strolling through the streets of the City of Progress more so than any other day of the year.

The celebration in question that was fast approaching was the Jubilee. It was smaller than Progress Day in order of importance to citizens that participated and was more of a local affair since there weren’t global investors and inventors flooding the city. There wasn’t as much on the line since it was simply an anniversary celebration of the founding of Piltover. The city was much younger than Zaun, having only been around for a few hundred years compared to the thousands that Zaun had endured as an ancient Shuriman settlement.

Viktor relaxed once he was changed out of his uniform, settling in his leisure clothes and searching your shelf for a book to read for the evening. Thinking about history was always interesting and it had been a pleasure to share it with you with curiosity shimmering in your eyes the entire time despite his worries that you would grow bored of the topic.

He remembered how you had asked questions with an integrity he rarely expected out of his Piltover classmates that lacked an understanding of what it meant to be from the undercity with the weight of its history on their shoulders.

“How do you deal with it every year?” you asked him, sitting across from him in the kitchen with dinner between you both. “Progress Day, I mean.”

Viktor straightened his back and thought of how to word his answer without sounding careless, “When I was still in the undercity, as I told you years ago, I did my best to help the people who were living there currently. Fixing their machines and factories to prevent further injury since most of the accidents were based in human error,” he put his utensil down and leaned on an open palm, “I have always seen Progress Day as it is meant to be seen. A day to celebrate the innovations of the future and what it holds for us as two cities that need each other and not just a day of great pain for my people.”

“But-” you had tried to form a coherent rebuttal, sympathizing with the great loss Zaun went through in the name of Piltover’s progress to grow into a prominent trade center in Valoran.

“I don’t want you feeling guilty for enjoying the Progress Day festivities every year on my account.”

“Alright,” you mumbled, taking a bite of your food and resuming a lighter topic of conversation.

The book he selected was from your side of the dorm, an old botany book from Noxus you had brought back at the end of break. It was a collection of plants and experimentations from Noxian scientists that researched all of the newly conquered territories mixed in with older flora that was native to the heart of the Noxian empire.

Settling into the plush blankets of your bed, he leaned against the wall by the large window that overlooked a large portion of campus. Staff members were setting up bright banners adorned with cogs, gears, and other Piltover symbols of innovation on the towers and buildings of the academy. The rest of the city would be strewn with silk ribbons and fireworks would be stationed across the tallest of rooftops to be set off periodically once sunset hit on the night of Jubilee.

When Viktor was about a third of the way through the book, having taken his time with a notebook by his side to take notes, you entered with a loud clatter. Stomping the salt off of your shoes in the doorway.

Apologizing profusely for being so loud when you noticed he had been reading, you took your time quietly closing the door with a much softer click than the racket you entered with.

“How was your evening?” you asked him, noting how he closed the book with a smile when greeting you.

“Ordinary,” his tone was dry with sarcasm which you loved, “what about you?”

“Oh! Sky and I went to the stonecutters guild because they had a gallery opening tonight and it was fascinating!” Your eyes lit up with awe remembering the exhibition and how some of the displays were incomplete on purpose to showcase the process of shaping stone into shapes that mimicked life. “I wish you could have come, we should go back if you ever feel up to it. After the guild we went out to a modest café out by the workshop district since we were close by there anyways. Seeing the inner city running outside of the academy district feels so foreign sometimes.”

He watched you settle down with heart eyes, listening intently to you recall your evening with a sense of great importance.

Changing in the open doorway of your closet, you slipped off your evening clothes indiscreetly without thinking. Pulling the waist of your skirt down your legs while cachinnating over the retelling of a joke you remembered from earlier that evening between you and Sky. Occasionally pausing what you were doing to continue conversing with Viktor, leisurely dressing yourself in fresh undergarments and a nightgown with no sense of urgency and failing to notice the rising bloom in his cheeks.

Viktor’s moment of quiescent caught your attention more than his visible redness when you were finished dressing in a nightgown and warm socks.

“Are you alright?” You asked with feigned innocence, knowing full well he must have watched you closely the whole time you were changing.

“Don’t tease,” he hunched his shoulders, a sly grin crossed his lips in response to you playfully stepping towards the bed.

“Don’t play coy with me,” you knelt onto the bed next to him, dropping your hands on his thighs.

The distance was closed between your bodies almost instantly. Tension abated after you were snugly fitted together beneath the soft blankets. Kissing and sighing into each others’ soothing touch, bathed in the dim light from the orange bulb on your desk. Relishing the sensation of Viktor’s wandering hands exploring under your clothes.

You reached down, undoing the buttons of his pants which he gladly let you slip just below his waist from where you kneeled, releasing him from the material, situating yourself over one of his thighs to lean down and continue kissing his parted lips. Practically melting against him as you sucked air out of his lips when he made you gasp with the gentle trailing touch of his fingertips between your legs. He was memorizing your movements, your trembling thighs and quiet breaths.

Doing his best to elicit any kind of reaction from you unabashedly keen on enjoying the way your face was contorted with pleasure. Pressing your face into his neck when you came was coupled with a muffled moan, contractions making your back arch and hips buck before he eventually removed his hand.

Straddling him almost impatiently, you sunk down onto him. His hands snaked their way up your body from your thighs, over the roll of your ribcage, and up to paw at your breasts. Your hips met sweetly at first, grinding against each other with your restrained movements until the spell was broken and you leaned down to brace yourself, weaving your fingers through his hair in a tangled grip for purchase. Audibly slapping down against him in an unspoken competition with his moans was motivation enough for you to keep pace until he completely unraveled beneath you.

It was a torturous rapture feeling so spent, wishing you had more stamina in you to drive Viktor over the edge one more time, but it was more than enough already.

In the afterglow of the moment you were nestled together, the ends of his hair tickled your arm that cradled his head. Your cheek was squished to his chest, still covered with his sleep shirt as neither of you had taken the time to properly undress in the heat of the moment.

******

“Take your time, love” Viktor assured you as you were trying to rush out of the dorm barely feeling ready for the evening.

Regardless of his sweet tone and pleasant demeanor, you didn’t want to be late by even a second for your dinner reservations. It had been a feat in itself to convince him to meet with your parents for the first time and the eve of Jubilee didn’t help your nerves knowing full well it would be crowded that night more so than any other banal night you could have gone out on.

In all fairness it was a last minute affair since your parents reached out to you on such short notice and you had to take a late night cab ride all the way back to the family estate to finalize these inconvenient dinner plans. They insisted on meeting Viktor despite their reservations about the undercity and you were positive it was all for show in regards to how well you actually knew your parents. It was a trap with no way out.

“I’m nauseous,” you timidly confessed as you walked down the hallway with him, attempting to take a deep breath in the hopes it would make you feel better. “I don’t know if I can do this,” you stepped into the elevator with him.

“It’s the nerves,” Viktor brushed a lock of hair away from your neck and played with it between his fingers at your back, raising them to your scalp and massaging it while you waited for the doors to slide open after the ding.

Meeting your parents terrified him as well. Knowing how they felt about the undercity from what you told him was anxiety inducing enough, but he wanted to maintain his composure for you.

“Right.”

Leaving the dorm building was slow business even though you had been in a hurry earlier since you knew full well you were far from being late. You hailed a car, catching a ride to the inner city taking you closer to the restaurant. What made up the short drive would have been a much longer walk which you didn’t want to put Viktor through even if he was up to it and capable. It was a risky night, meeting your parents, and you didn’t want anything to go awry.

When you arrived you took in the lattice work of brass that adorned the glass awning above the entrance, gilded and bright with the reflection of the warm street lamps. Pulling your coat higher up your neck you shivered at the sight of snowflakes that melted before reaching the ground.

Viktor gave your shoulder a squeeze after wrapping his arm around you. It was comforting and put you at ease for only a moment before you entered the building where a host greeted you and got your family name down on the check-in list.

They guided you through a maze of tables, spaciously placed, where the overly wealthy dined. After being disconnected from your old upper echelon lifestyle, that had been your entire world before leaving for the academy and meeting Viktor, it all felt so bizarre. It was a lifetime ago, but you were able to fall back into place if necessary. Presenting yourself correctly in a modest dress and carrying yourself with all of the appropriate mannerisms that told everyone how much you belonged in this high-rise world with them. A well rehearsed act. You only hoped Viktor didn’t feel too out of place as your coats were taken by a server and you were seated at the table to wait for your parents to arrive.

It wasn’t long before they showed up, dressed their best to see you in such a formal setting with Viktor. Not that they felt the need to impress Viktor since they were well aware of his affiliation with the undercity.

Viktor stood to greet them when they reached the table, shaking your father’s hand and taking your mother’s politely.

“So, y/n, how are you both doing?” your mother began right out of the gate after stopping a server to order a bottle of wine for the table. “The family has been absolutely thrilled with the Kiraman’s taking you in as one of their academic wards.”

“I don’t really know what I’m doing just yet,” you had no desire to impress them with lies and played the dangerous game of disappointing them with the truth. “I've been trying to figure out little projects here and there since I’m still sort of settling in. It’s only been a month.”

“Well, you’re surrounded by many prodigies from houses low and great throughout the city. I’m sure there are peers you could conspire with for future endeavors at least,” your father suggested, knowing full well connections was what got you ahead in the real world more so than any actual raw talent. “Use that y/l/n charisma to charm some of them.”

Feigning a soft laugh to humor him was all you could manage, sipping on your glass of wine that you hated once a server poured it at the request of your mother without asking you personally. The conversation was already heading in an undesirable direction and you wanted nothing more than to lead the topic away from careers and academics. It would have been lovely to discuss home or whatever new hobby they may have been trying out in your absence.

“So, Viktor,” your mother practically had to cough his name up with the same affection akin to spitting out a tonsil stone, “how has school been going for you?”

Viktor straightened his shoulders out, “I’m about to finish my masters and,” he cleared his throat when his voice was about to crack, “I’m the assistant to the dean of the academy… to Counselor Heimderdinger.”

His clarification and name drop seemed to impress your parents for a fraction of a second before they inevitably reminded themselves he was an outsider in their elite bubble. Their expressions went from lightly elated to neutral in a matter of seconds, but you were going to take all you could get. They managed to converse with him about his job and rudely asked how much he made doing it, carefully dancing around their silent judgment at the number as if an assistant's salary could compete with their lavish income from running their industrial empire.

“Are you throwing your annual Jubilee celebration at home tomorrow?” You asked, thinking back to the fireworks above your childhood home made you nostalgic. Watching the bright bursts of color in the night sky was a marvel when you would sit alone on a balcony while a party droned on elsewhere.

“Oh we haven’t thrown a Jubilee party at home in years. We’ve been attending other city parties instead,” your mother waved her hand in the air at the thought of throwing a last minute celebration herself.

It was a relief knowing you weren’t going to get an invitation anytime soon and you tried to continue with the conversation. At least they were being polite to Viktor even if you had a pit in your stomach as you braced for the inevitable impact.

******

At the end of the dinner, when your parents satisfied their socialization quota, you politely said your goodbyes and made ready to follow Viktor out of the restaurant. The firm grip of your mother’s hand on your arm made your heart hammer painfully against your ribs with the fear you had been suppressing the entire evening coming up all at once.

Viktor turned to see your nervous grin and you waved him on. Telling him you would meet him outside and you just wanted to have a little more time with your mother even if it was a blatant lie he could read as clear as the written word by just looking in your eyes. He left, trusting you were more than capable of handling yourself when you were up against your parents.

“Don’t think just because he seems like a fine gentleman,” your mother’s voice was lowered as you leaned down towards her with a polite smile plastered on your lying façade, “that we will tolerate this in any serious manner. Soon you will realize he does not fit and you will understand your place, y/n.” Her words were venomous and vial to your ears, but you remained polite, still grinning with the love and admiration a daughter should bear in the presence of her supposed loving parents. “ We will tolerate your little school-girl crush for now, but tread carefully or there will be consequences.”

“Viktor is not some fleeting feckless crush,” you snapped back at her through a forced toothy grin, voice still low to preserve your parents’ public image. “He has been my constant companion since I stepped foot on the academy grounds and I will not bend to your senseless prejudices towards the undercity and her people.”

Jerking your arm out of her firm grasp, you told your parents you loved them and hoped to see them again soon with whatever willpower you had left, ignoring their seething glares and leaving to find Viktor.

******

Outside on the street, bundled in your coats, you opted to walk back despite the chill and the late hour. You needed to blow off steam and wanted to avoid spending more money than necessary on a cab or the trolley unless Viktor needed to rest from walking. Something inside told you the financial cut off was coming sooner than you thought regardless of maintaining politeness during dinner and keeping your argument as quiet as possible to not embarrass them.

“Something is wrong, y/n,” Viktor saw through you like a gossamer web and stopped you from storming ahead of him, salt crunched beneath your turning soles, gently holding the elbow of your sleeve to sit you on an ironwork bench outside of a closed shop. “Talk to me… please.”

Your heart sank. It was heavy with a guilt you barely understood. Perhaps you were afraid of involving him with your elitist family drama, but you knew he was strong enough to handle it without taking personal offense. “It’s my mother… maybe father too, who knows with how little he speaks on social issues outside of business.”

“I guessed something happened as we were leaving,” he let his shoulders fall, “your look made me worry.”

“They have their opinions as you well know,” you watched Viktor nod, eyes downcast as he held your hand in your lap. A gloved thumb soothingly caressed the back of your bare chilled hand. “I don’t want to get into it, just know I don’t agree with them and it’s my life… it’s our life.”

Viktor refrained from pressing you further on the issue, already understanding your frustrations and the risks involved with pursuing a serious relationship with you. He was already in so deep when it came to his feelings towards you that it didn’t matter to him what the consequences were. It was all worth it in the end as long as you were happy and not burdened by him.

“y/n,” his voice was tender, “whatever you decide to do, if it’s what you want or what your parents want, I’ll accept it only for you. Though, I love you, I know the world you come from doesn’t take lightly to what we’re doing.”

“I love you, Viktor,” looking into his glossy amber eyes, highlighted by the street light, your chest was overwhelmed with the vibrations that shook you from nerves. The stress of the evening finally got to you and the only thing keeping you grounded was his hand laced with your trembling fingers, reddened from the frigid air.

******

It was the afternoon of Jubilee and your face was dried with leftover tears from the previous night. It had been tender and full of sweetness as Viktor made every attempt to quell your fears of thinking he would be scared off by your parents. You trusted every word he said, letting him kiss away your tears and eventually calming down.

You sat up with a groan in the bed by yourself. It was later than you would have liked. Viktor had left you alone per the grumbling request in your drowsy state and you were embarrassed by the sobbing he witnessed. So you took your time getting ready for the day. Holding a hot wet towel to your face to reduce the swelling around your eyes, hunched over the sink, you thought about what you were going to do later.

After learning your parents would not want to see you after the dinner, you felt like spending Jubilee with friends instead of family. You and Viktor planned on seeing Sky and watching the fireworks. Possibly walking around the festival tents and getting dinner together if the size of the crowd allowed it.

Donning a comfortable outfit for the evening, you wondered how Viktor would present himself for the festival. Feeling only slightly disappointed when you saw him sitting in the kitchen wearing the base of his school uniform without his vest and tie. He owned leisure clothes, just getting him to wear them outside of the dorms was a pain as he insisted he wanted to make a good first impression. You assumed he was going to wear the rest of the pieces, but he surprised you by putting on only his coat after seeing you were ready for the evening.

“What about your vest? Your tie?” you straightened your scarf, ready to brace against the cold with your old fur cap clenched between gloved fingers.

“I’m going to be wrapped up in this all night,” he shrugged, “doesn’t seem sensible to be too dressed up.” When you mentioned the possibility of dining in he shrugged again.

Whatever made him comfortable, you didn’t mind in exchange for him not mentioning how late in the day it was. It was already the golden hour, honey colored light dappled through cracks in the cloud cover and whenever Viktor’s eyes caught them his amber irises shimmered beautifully. He caught you staring which you playfully denied.

Sky was waiting for you both on the edge of campus. Scribbling away in a notebook she had propped against her stomach before she noticed you practically skipping up to her through the already forming crowd. Tucking her book away, she hugged you snuggly before doing the same to Viktor and you all made your way to the festival.

The throng of people was manageable. Nothing compared to Progress Day and you were grateful since you were looking forward to going out despite the emotional rollercoaster your parents had given you.

******

Fireworks erupted overhead from where your trio was perched along the brass railing, high above the crowds and cheered in their drunkenness. All was aglow with lights from the stalls set up to provide food, goodies, and games. Bells rang as prizes were won down below and you watched a group of children squeal over a large stuffed animal prize.

Celebrations would continue well until dawn that year since the festival landed on a weekend, but you knew you were not up to staying out all night and it made you feel old.

You laughed in spite of yourself and how you would have acted as a child. Memories of the Jubilee growing up were so dull to remember since it was always a posh social affair in your family home. Dolls were more lifelike than you after your parents would dress you up and polish your appearance for their socialite friends.

It was better now. Beginning to free yourself from the bonds of your old life by enjoying the night out with your friends.

******

Thank you for reading! :3

#perfect strangers #viktor #viktor/reader #viktor x reader #reader insert #reader x viktor #reader/viktor #reader insert arcane #viktor fanfiction #thank you all for your patience #I greatly appreciate everyone that has stuck around #I know it's been rough having to wait so long #thank you 1000 times thank you #viktor arcane x reader #viktor arcane x you #viktor x you #arcane viktor x you

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iisgoose · 10 months ago

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I Only Wanted to Protect You

Sorry for the long wait...I thought I posted this part already

“I will tell you more when a certain someone isn’t eavesdropping.” Y/N looked in Powder’s direction with a smile.

Silco watched as Y/N finished cooking, finding himself glancing at the clock. He wanted to continue their conversation privately but as they sat down to eat, it seemed like this child had endless energy. Powder talked the most during dinner as Silco and Y/N stole glances with one another. There was something about her that he couldn’t get out of his head from the first time he saw her walking home. It made him feel weak, she made him feel weak. Everything she did made him intrigued, she seemed mysterious and it had been awhile since something or someone intrigued him enough to put his own wants to the side. Right now what he desperately wanted was for the kid seated next to him to leave, but instead he just nodded his head along with her story. After what felt like an eternity, Powder got up from the table and flopped down onto Y/N’s bed, leaving the adults alone.

“Now, Powder. It’s quite late and its time for you to head down to bed.” Y/N sweetly called to the young girl. “You know as much as I do that I don’t have room up here for the both of us.”

“Oh come on Y/N. Please, just for tonight. I don’t want to be alone down there.”

“Not tonight Powder. A lot has happened that I’m still not filled in on, I need to talk with Silco.” Y/N’s face hardened, a look Powder knew too well.

“Fine.”

Powder headed to the front door, turning back once more to give one last go with her puppy dog eyes in Y/N’s direction. Her eyes meet the stern look from both adults who were standing in kitchen area. She turned away, clearly defeated and headed down to bed.

Y/N felt anxiety bubbling in her stomach as she began to clear the dishes from the tiny table in front of her. Silco didn’t seem in a rush for her to finish her story about Viktor, which she appreciated. Just the thought of him angers her and over the years she had tried her best to forget him. She wanted to pretend that she was always from the Lanes and had never met the man. Try as she might, her mind still wonders to him every now and then. It usually came after drinking more than she would like to admit as her loneliness creeps over her while she lays in bed. She would think about the what ifs that have nagged at her mind over the last few years. Mostly her thoughts would always wonder why he never came looking for her. She knew why she didn’t go to Piltover looking for him, she knew she would look out of place the moment she crossed the bridge. She also wondered if he even knew what happened to her after he left, her worst fear was that he didn’t care.

Silco sat quietly as he watched her every movement as Y/N continued her quiet clean up. His eyes narrowed as she grabbed a bottle of whiskey and two glass has she headed towards the small couch that was nestled under the small window. She set the glasses on the window sill as she pours both of them a drink.

“Now that she’s gone, where were we?” Y/N’s voice broke the silence that had fallen between them.

“I believe you were answering my questions.” Silco rose from his chair at the table, making his way to join her on the couch, “I didn’t take you for a whiskey drinker.”

Y/N felt a smile begin to form on her face, “It was the only thing my dad drank.” She let out a small laugh, “I didn’t have much else to sneak as a teen. Not like my dad didn’t notice, I think he was just happy that I was doing something a normal teen did.”

“I did worse at that age.” Silco sipped from his glass, eyes meeting hers.

“That doesn’t surprise me.” She let a small laugh as she brought her own drink to her lips. “From what I heard, it’s much worse.”

A quick smile formed on Silco’s once stoic face, “What did you hear exactly?”

Y/N felt her face grow warm. “All kinds of things…,mainly not to trust you.”

“Let me guess.” his smile faded and his eyes narrowed, “Vander told you that one.”

Y/N looked into his eyes as she allowed a small, reassuring smile to form, “Yes. But, it was coming from the man who lied about his deal with the Enforcers.”

Silco shifted in his seat, intrigued by her comment. “You knew of that?”

“I overheard his conversation with that Enforcer lady. I can hear a lot through the floor.”

“You eavesdropped?”

Y/N shrugged, smile growing larger on her face, “Not on purpose. I was just trying to rest before the late shift. I blame it on them being loud. I don’t see the harm in listening, that’s how I knew where Vi ran off too.”

Silco sat back, resting one arm on the back rest of the couch, legs crossed. “And you didn’t stop her? Aren’t you a makeshift parental figure.”

“They’re Vander’s problem not mine. I’m not their mom,” she laughed, “I just needed a place to live.”

“You didn’t like them?”

“I’m not saying that, it’s more that I’m not ready for that type of responsibility. Vi and the boys didn’t need a mother figure, they needed Vander’s approval. But Powder does. She needs a bit more support and love. She’s the one I was worried about, Vander and her never meshed. I don’t think he knew how to meet her needs.” Y/N sipped her drink as she leaned back against the arm rest.

“She has potential.”

Y/N smiled, “She really does but she insists on being just like Vi.”

Silence fell over them for a long while. Neither of them feeling the need to break it, both seating back and enjoying each other’s company. Both sipping on their drinks as Y/N glanced out the window to the streets below.

“Are you originally from the Lanes?” she asked, breaking the silence as she poured more whiskey into her cup.

“Born and raise.” Silco said as he reached his glass out to be refilled. “And you?”

“I moved here at seventeen.” Y/N answered as she poured his drink.

“Seventeen?” Her age surprising him. “Your parents were okay with that?”

“If they were alive, probably not.” She felt the sadness bubble up, “I moved here after my dad died.”

Silco’s face fell, “No one stopped you?”

“Well, Octavis was busy with my dad’s business and my only friend had moved.” Silco remained silent as she continued, “My dad died the same day he left for Piltover. I don’t even think he knows and I couldn’t bring myself to go looking for him.” she lied. “I was supposed to take over my dad’s shop when he died but I couldn’t get myself to do it. I let my dad’s apprentice take it over, shit I even gave him the house.”

She let out a light laugh as she brought her own drink to her lips. Glancing up at the man seated in front of her. She felt stupid for rambling on about her past but once she started she couldn’t stop. It had been seven years since she talked openly about her previous life. It was like she opened a floodgate of memories and emotions that she had pushed down for years.

“Sorry.” Y/N awkwardly laughed as she pulled her legs to her chest, “Didn’t mean to be a downer.”

“Why the Lanes?” Silco sipped his own drink, eyes narrowed.

“I knew no one would come looking for me here.” She looked out the window. “And no one has.”

#arcane #arcane fanfiction #silco arcane #silco fanfic #viktor fanfiction

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vikki-tikki-tavii · 2 years ago

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Hi hi! I've had this idea for the longest time and I'd absolutely adore you if you wrote it (sorry if this is really long): a Viktor oneshot where he's crushing really hard on the reader (female if possible) who's his "friend", and he thinks she could never reciprocate but she's has the fattest and most obvious crush on him too. The reader is like the opposite of Viktor, she's short, outspoken, energetic and chatty. She constantly makes attempts at flirting with him, joking and teasing him playfully, but Viktor being the insecure introvert he is just doesn't realize she's head over hills for him. Eventual Jayce's like "hey dude can please confess already, she's obviously so into you". I would love it if at some point the reader told Viktor that she thinks he's incredibly gorgeous and smart and that he has no reason to be insecure. You're so talented btw, love your work

Awww this is adorable (and tysmmmm for the compliment uwu ✨

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Crushing On You pt. 1 ~ Viktor x Reader

Heyy Vikki-Tikki-Tavi!~” you croon sweetly as you bounce into the lab early one morning. Viktor snorts out a laugh as you greet him with yet another ridiculous nickname.

“We’ll hello to you too. You seem a little extra bubbly today. Did Jayce sneak you coffee again?”

“No way!” Jayce called out from across the room. “You remember what happened last time.”

You roll your eyes and blush as you try not to think about how hyper you got one morning when Jayce shared his cup of coffee with you.

“Ugh c’mon that was forever ago! Why do you keep bringing it up?” You pouted as you made your way over to Viktor’s station to take a peek at the hexcore.

“Actually if I recall correctly, it was merely a week ago.” Viktor replies with a smirk.

“Exactly!” You exclaim. “Practically an eternity ago!”

Your over exaggeration manages to bring a laugh out of both men.

“Ha, man you really brighten up the place you goofball.” Jayce chuckles as he pats a hand on you back.

“Yes.” Viktor agrees earnestly “You truly are a joy to have around. You make time in the lab much more enjoyable.”

You squish your hands against your pink-tinted cheeks and giggle bashfully “Aw you guys, hehe…thanks Viktor.”

“Hey what am I? Chopped liver?” Jayce whines jokingly as he makes his way to his workstation. You giggle in a sweet way that (for some odd reason) sends Viktor’s heart beating a bit faster than it should be for someone who is sitting down..

“Of course not! Thank you Jaycey-Waycey~” you comment goofily while blowing a kiss in his direction. The golden boy barks a hearty laugh at the powerfully ridiculous nickname.

“Haha. Alright, I’m gonna head to the bathroom real quick. Be right back!” You shout over your shoulder as you jog out of the lab. “And don’t you two dare do anything cool without me!” You threaten mockingly from halfway out the doorframe.

Viktor laughs “We wouldn’t dream of it.” He comments in a soft tone with an even softer smile. A blush colors your face as you smile coyly and head out the door.

Jayce smirks as he turns his head from where you once stood to Viktor’s workstation, where the mad scientist is still smiling at the now empty doorframe.

His smirk widens as he leans back in his chair and fold his hands behind his head

“So…” he feigns making sure the playful teasing is very apparent in his tone, “when are you two love birds gonna get together?”

Viktor’s posture stiffens as he fumbles with the notes in his hand.

“Eh…” he clears his throat which is usually dry all of a sudden. “Pardon me?” He questions trying his best to sound aloof even though the crack in his voice gives it away.

Jayce chuckles as he saunters over to Viktor. “Come on Vik don’t play dumb.” he shrugs an arm around his lab partner’s shoulder and silently notices on the unusual amount of red hue dusting his usually pale cheeks. “You’re crushing on her…”

Viktor sighs in defeat, knowing there’s no point in trying to hide what apparently is so blatantly obvious to his friend.

“Alright Jayce, you’re-“

“And she’s crushing on you.”

“…”

“Vik?”

“…”

“Hey Viktor, you ok buddy? You look like a tomato.” Jayce joked softly while quickly scanning his partner’s appearance. Even though he was pretty sure he knew it was this apparently new revelation that had Viktor in this state, he did want to be sure it wasn’t his friend’s poor health.

“I just…um…are you sure about that Jayce? Does she really feel that way.”

“Well…” Jayce drawls while sitting on the desk “I can’t necessarily speak on her behalf, but from what I observed from the two of you these pass couple months, I’d say my hypothesis is at least 95% accurate. And given how extra cutesy you two were being just a few moments ago, I’m willing to bump that up to 98%.” he responds with a cheeky smirk.

The Viktor was still too stunned to speak, so Jayce continued. “…And if you’re up for it, I think I have a nice way you can officially find out for yourself.”

It will end in disaster. Surely. Viktor knew it for a fact. He could feel it in his bones. His analytical brain couldn’t help but come up with the worst case scenario-both him and the apparently not-so-secret object of his admiration will be humiliated and never want to be in the same room together.

But yet….

There is also a chance that she does indeed share his feelings. And Jayce’s hypothesis ,as baseless as it may be, can actually be correct.

There was a part of him that screamed to take a chance. After all, his entire life up to this point has revolved around him taking a gamble on a risky decision and coming out on top. Maybe he could use what ever last bit of his luck was left on Jayce’s scheme. Just maybe…

“Ok,” Viktor yields with cautiously growing confidence “What do I do?”

He had no idea what was in store, but he did know that Jayce’s cheeky smirk and the playful twinkle in his eye did little to trim the cautious shrub actively growing around his still budding confidence.

#u like my little plug teehee #arcane viktor #viktor arcane #viktor fanfiction #im imaging the reader as Sky :3 #arcane fanfiction #arcane fanfic

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cherryboberryfefifoferry · 4 days ago

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i posted this like 2.5 years ago when i finished watching S1 of arcane for the first time… now that S2 has released i think i should actually write it because i completely forgot about it 😅 sorry for edging all of you for the past couple of years LMAO

college has been keeping me super busy but i promise i’m cooking up some stuff! 🙏🏻

A/N: this was a request i got so hopefully i did it justice! this whole concept was honestly so cool to write about and i think it's safe to say i'm attached 😭 i have so much planned for this series so get ready!

this prologue is a major wip so it's subject to change and undergo lots and lots of editing, but i just wanted to post it now to see what you guys thought about it before anything else :)

masterlist

Forget-Me-Not — Prologue

Viktor x Ionian!Reader

You had always known that Viktor would be your undoing.

You knew it the very moment you first saw each other as children, both impossibly lost and alone and curious about the other.

You knew it when you watched him smile softly to himself upon the discovery that his toy boat worked as it sailed defiantly down the small river, colorful with toxins. You had meekly followed him as the little contraption traveled along the water, laughing as it picked up speed, before suddenly flinging your body out to catch the boy before he fell to the ground when you noticed him stumble. The look he gave you afterwards told you everything you needed to know: "I have no idea who you are, but I think I'd like to be your friend now."

You knew it when you heard him speak for the first time, words gentle yet blunt and rich with an accent in a language you couldn't understand. And when he taught you how to speak as he did, patient and understanding and excited when you made progress and could communicate back, you knew it.

You knew it when he tenderly pressed bandages to the scrapes on your knees after you stumbled while dancing and scolded you for not paying more attention. Once he was satisfied with his handiwork, he'd kiss each bandage "just to make sure it heals faster," like his mother would do to him.

You knew it when you watched him tinker away on his newest invention, with furrowed eyebrows and his mouth slightly crooked in concentration. When he saw you trying to get a peek, he'd shoo you out of his workspace, uncharacteristically embarrassed. You knew it when some time later, he presented you with a handmade silver key, tiny and delicate, with little swirls engraved in its edges. He jokingly remarked that it was the key to his heart and threatened you to never lose it. You swore with your life (and your pinky finger) that you would never take it off, and Viktor tied the wire necklace for you so that you wouldn't see the faint pink glowing on his cheeks. You never broke your promise.

You knew it when his parents gifted you both uniforms to the academy in Piltover and as you watched tears of happiness stream softly down his face (which he would later deny, much to your amusement).

You knew it when the two of you stepped foot in Piltover for the first time and felt vehemently out of place. It was almost as if everyone could tell you both didn't belong and the looks people shot you made you dizzy and weak in the knees. When Viktor gently squeezed your hand in reassurance, you gave him a small, thankful smile before squeezing back. And when your hands stayed comfortably clasped in each other's the rest of the way to the academy, you knew.

You knew it when you watched him place top of his class, his eyes shining with surprise before crinkling into a smile as he turned to look at you. You mouthed "I told you so," in response and laughed when he dramatically rolled his eyes, only for him to scoff and clear his throat when he noticed the odd looks he was receiving. This caused you to laugh harder, and when you saw his endeared expression afterwards, you knew.

You knew it whenever you brought him something you had cooked or baked and his entire face lit up, even more so if the delivery included anise cookies with condensed milk glaze — a weakness you had learned to affectionately exploit.

You knew it when he softly swept his thumb along the edge of your lips, chuckling as he remarked that you somehow always managed to get crumbs everywhere before suddenly pausing to question the light crimson that had come to stain your ears and cheeks.

You knew it whenever you gazed into his deep, honey eyes, bright with amber and ambition that always seemed to be focused ahead on some intangible future. The way he spoke of his hopes and dreams with that trademark sense of optimism of his that you cherished so much never failed to make you grin, and this was something Viktor noticed — a small note he made in the back of his mind that remarked that you often smiled when he did.

You knew it when he shattered from stress and insecurity and found solace in your embrace, sobbing silently into your shoulder as your fingers gently carded through his hair in an effort to calm him down. The muffled apologies and words of encouragement shared between the two of you in those moments were tender and bittersweet and stuck with the both of you long after, resurfacing in the forms of knowing looks and lingering touches that left butterflies in their wake.

You knew it when he became assistant to dean of the academy and visited the archives every morning and evening just to see you. On many occasions he claimed Heimerdinger had sent him to retrieve certain volumes of textbooks or council records that were "incredibly important to the headmaster's current duties," only for you to watch him leave empty handed and with a smile etched on his face.

You knew it when he got too close and the smell of coffee, sugar, anise, and tiny notes of ink, parchment, and iron invaded your senses, causing you to short circuit and lose focus on whatever you were previously doing. You prayed that the blush adorning your face wasn't visible or that Viktor wasn't paying attention to you in that moment as you knew you wouldn't be able to come up with a coherent excuse if he asked.

You knew it when he inquired you about a certain Jayce Talis' notes. About the arcane and magic, about endless possibilities and the opportunity to change the future, and about helping him finish his research. And when he specifically asked you to aid him and Jayce given your complex knowledge of the arcane, you knew.

You knew it when hextech worked wonders and the first thing he did after the adrenaline (and magically induced floating) ended was to thank you enthusiastically until your face matched the color of his shirt and Jayce laughed fondly in the background.

You knew it as you all grew older and success had become routine in your lives, and you knew it when Viktor's health plummeted. When he threw himself into his work and obsessively strived towards progress at the cost of his wellbeing. When the bags under his eyes grew dark and heavy and his complexion continued to pale.

You knew it when the nights he spent at the lab grew longer and when the meals you brought him that he so often ate with vigor ended up growing cold at the edge of his desk, untouched.

You knew it when you watched him collapse at his workstation and fear rooted itself in every crevice of your body, and you didn't want to think about what would have happened had your desperate calls not been answered by Sky, who frantically rushed to find the nearest source of help. In the hospital, Jayce had let you sleep on his shoulder as you both waited for Viktor to awaken, and you were thankful he didn't mention the tear stains that darkened his jacket as a result. And when Viktor stirred and his hoarse voice questioned your presence, you knew. You knew it when Jayce weakly responded with the truth of Viktor's condition, and you bit your lip until it bled in an effort to stop yourself from sobbing again as you faced the inevitable fact that your best friend would die.

You knew it when he reached a breakthrough and clasped your hands in his, practically shaking with excitement as he rambled about possibilities and outcomes and new horizons, but you weren't paying full attention to his words — not when he was genuinely smiling and looked like Viktor again, alive and animated, with his eyes holding that familiar spark that you hadn't realized you missed seeing for so long... with something else hidden beneath it.

You knew it when you watched him run for the first time underneath the stars and his face contorted in every emotion possible before settling on disbelief and adoration when he reached you. You knew it when he tightly embraced you before lifting you towards the sky, smiling and laughing and high on adrenaline. You knew it when he thanked you — delicate and sweet, barely-there murmurs against your lips — and promised you the world, the sun, the moon, and the stars: that he would survive.

Over, and over, and over again, you were reminded. You had always known that Viktor would be your undoing. It was inevitable, with how wholly you gave your heart to him and the way life seemed to spite you, you knew. But you would let him ruin you — again, and again, and again, over and over, you would let him. You would spend an eternity in pain by his hands if it meant he would stay just as long on this Earth.

But not like this.

Never like this.

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mx-pastelwriting · 15 days ago

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Saving My Fanfiction Work

Due to the recent events in the United States. To clarify the recent events being Trump becoming president of the United States, Project 2025 more than likely going to be integrated. If you are not familiar with Project 2025 I urge you to look it up.

Along with the KOSA bill that has many problems and it has passed the senate now needing the finally vote in the house, which both are majority red. Go here to learn more on why it needs to be stopped and how you can. This is another component that will harm our communities. Go to: stopkosa.com

With all of its harmful plans some of the plans are to take down/restrict internet sites that have LGBTQ+ communities that means communities like the fan-fiction communities/sites in the United States.

I am only giving resources to those inside and out of the US in case they banned sites that hold fan-fiction. Better safe than sorry.

Being that I live in the US the possibly of mine and many others Fanfiction has the possibly of being in danger. Therefore I'm giving you recourses. (I'm not leaving or stopping my writing, I'm here for the fight!)

For those wanting to save my fanfiction, I give you permission to download them off of AO3 and to be used for your personal collection. Meaning, your eyes only. To clarify I’m saying this as others have asked if they could download my fanfic so for those who would like to you can.

If you do not know how to download them many others on online have tutorials on how to download them and add them to our phone libraries.

Here are some links to tutorials:

Downloading Fanfic

Adding to Iphone & Android Library

Adding to Kindle Library - Video on How (On TikTok)

Adding Book Covers (At the bottom) - Good EPUB Cover Changer (I use this)

Types of Files and What they mean

Please stay safe out there! Remember to follow the rules below.

DO NOT share the downloaded file anywhere online.

DO NOT repost the downloaded file under your name.

Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take legal action. Inspiration or the same idea does NOT apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI, or reposted on any other platform without permission.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does give consent to "reblog," sharing links to direct work, and being in recommend lists.

Please stay safe out there friends! I love you so much! Know that there will always people that love you and in for the fight to make sure you are loved!

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balsamfir-fics · 11 days ago

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we are so back.

and FYI for those who kindly read the linked fic below and it's sequels, i will in fact be rewriting a new canon-corrected version (affects sequels more than the original fic). so, the first fic of three won't change much but the latter two will depending on the plot we get in the next two weeks.

anyway come say hi you fellow viktor lovers!! I miss you all. and welcome new ones!

#viktor fanfiction #viktor smut #viktor x reader

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thehistoriangirl · 2 years ago

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A Well-Deserved Celebration

First and foremost, I want to thank @therealtendercrisps for creating such sweet event! This fic is the Secret Santa gift for the amazing @zaunitearchives ❤ ❤ merry belated Christmas, and happy Viktor’s birthday and early New Year! 🎊 I hope you like it kfhjsjdhjf <3 I’m sorry cuz I went overboard and it endep up being very long

Viktor x AFAB!Reader-------8.9K (oopsie)-------NSFW/+18 only/MDNI

“Summary” (very much plotless fluff/smut): You and Viktor going on vacation to celebrate Christmas and his birthday :3

His fingers were massaging your scalp while brushing your hair, a custom he copied from you. The curtains drawn allowed the moonlight to filtrate through the windows and ripple against the wrinkly, white bed sheets you sat over, between Viktor's legs. The wind was howling outside, the edges of the glass tinted with mist from the warm ambiance inside.

You snuggled closer to his chest, pulling the covers higher until his shoulders were covered. "Are you sure you want to go on vacation?" You'd never imagined Viktor would be the one to propose taking a couple of weeks off during the winter holidays.

He stopped, putting the brush on the nightstand. "Well, now I have an important person I want to spend time with," Viktor commented nonchalantly as if his words wouldn't make your stomach flutter and cheeks hotter.

"Oh, you mean Jayce?" Viktor scrunched his nose, feigning an offended pout.

You wanted to laugh, but before you could react, you felt his fingers eagerly climbing up the hem of your shirt, hugging you with one simple push to get you closer, practically on top of his lap. Gasping, you turned your head to see him, to prove if he would dare to go further with you observing him. Viktor was grinning proudly, breath caressing your neck, and you could sense his pointy teeth getting closer.

His fingers dug at the skin of your hips, making you bite the inside of your cheek as you tilt your neck to the side, but he didn't approach it. Instead, he headed to nibble the edge of your jaw, teasing your neck with being too close and too far at the same time.

Your eyes became shut, sensing his soft lips brushing against your skin and his hands resting inside your pajamas, over your belly. Your hips squirmed at the sensation of his muttered voice sending cold air against your skin contrasted with the warm sensation of his tongue licking all those sensible spots.

“But first, I’ll have to stay a few extra hours to advance my workload before we go.” You blinked a couple of times, words still too unclear to be understood. Then you frowned, eyebrows knitted as you tried to push him away, though one of your hands was still clinging to his forearm.

“That’s not fair,” you said, feeling your lip quivering in a pout Viktor couldn’t see as he was making his way down your neck, toward your collarbone, keeping his lips light as his teeth were the ones making an impression, quite literally, of red blooms that in the morning would be shifting to pink and purple.

"Don't worry, love. I won't exhaust myself." He stopped when the fabric of your pajamas got in his way. Golden eyes searched for yours, as you nodded back. Your hips sensed the absence of one of his hands, rapidly finding it again once his fingers caressed the fabric to push it up and up again, cold air giving your skin goosebumps. "I have the impression I'm going to need all my energy for our travel."

*~*~*~*

Around a month later, you were watching snow painting the forest that extended like a white sea with uneven treetops that looked like icebergs up and down the hills. Viktor was half-lying between fluffy pillows, a mug of hot cocoa between his hands. The sky was metallic grey, no stars or moon could be seen between the storm clouds of the snowstorm sieging the little cabin.

It must be freezing outside, but not that you would know. The bed was a mess of wrinkly blankets, and Viktor’s sweater was cozy, brushing your skin with each movement while you rotate your body toward him, trying to lay your head over his chest.

The clock hung on the wall almost marked midnight. Almost Christmas. The coffee table you dragged inside the room was filled with dishes; a little pesto star bread that was already missing a point, a steaming pot of spinach-mushroom cream, and a chicken noodle soup—because Viktor fancied soups and sauces instead of dry meat. You also baked cookies that he helped decorate with different icings, from stars to pines, and even some snow and gingerbread people.

All that afternoon you were roaming in the kitchen, checking the boiling food in the stove, and soaking in the dishes while Viktor was sitting on a stool, leaning against the kitchen counter, brows pinched in concentration as he held the icing over every single cookie as if he were a doctor making a surgery—or perhaps Viktor was just replicating the same dedication he had when looking at some blueprint or building a prototype.

He took around two hours to finish icing around fifteen cookies, but you thought that it was worth it when Viktor called you to see the finishing result. Viktor was smiling widely as he raised the platter to show you the cookies. The first ones got shaky lines, but Viktor learned fast, and soon each cookie was filled with little details, the tree trunks were decorated with brown and black to emulate the wood veins, the scarfs around the snowmen were stripped in red and green, and the gingerbread men were neatly dressed in black pants and sweaters. Though two cookies were missing already.

As you were checking one cookie now, a pine tree with a golden star at its peak. The mattress dipped when Viktor sat next to you, brushing his shoulder against your arm as he leaned toward the table, lazily taking one plate to serve some cream of spinach.

You took the cookie and broke the trunk that had chocolate icing. Though you would never put it in your mouth because long fingers snatched it away before you could blink.

“Hey, that’s mine!” He ate it quickly, and you couldn’t even request to take it back.

“You shouldn’t eat dessert first, love.”

“You just did!” Viktor had filled a bowl with soup, so he handed it to you, raising a spoon filled with the creamy liquid toward your lips. Your hair tickled your forehead when you shook your head. “I don’t want it.”

“The faster you eat, the sooner you’ll be able to eat the cookies.” He took the spoon, moving it up and down to cool it down. “Come on, it’s tasty.”

You pouted, but you couldn't be mad—it wasn't the first time he stole bits of your food when you were distracted anyway—, so you leaned toward him, taking the spoonful of soup. It was scoldingly hot, but he was right, overall was tasty, the right mix of sweetness from the cream and saltiness of the potatoes. When you gulped it down, Viktor kissed your cheek, giving you a piece of pesto bread dipped in cream.

“Thank you,” you said, eating from his hand while filling a bowl with spinach cream, moving it to cool it before telling him: “Open your mouth.”

"Oh, and may I ask why for?" He arched a brow, a half-smile sneaking through a serious face Viktor couldn't fake, not when his eyes shone with amusement.

“I’m feeding you, don't be too cocky.” Viktor chuckled, complying. The spoon slid inside his mouth as he closed his eyes to taste it, humming. You observed him, with the yellowish light of the two lamps at each side of the bed, dark eyelashes caressing his high cheekbones, lips pursed together.

He peeked at you through them after he finished the spoonful of cream, eyes made of melted gold in a gaze so sweet you felt your stomach fluttering. “What is it, love?”

You set your bowl over the table, feet dangling against the fluffy carpet below, turning to cradle his face with your palms. He stood there, frozen, with eyes slightly widened. “You’re so beautiful I can’t believe you’re real.”

His gaze softened, lips stretching in a sheepish smile while pink covered the tips of his ears down his cheeks and the tip of his nose, the one you leaned to kiss, careful not to disturb the bowl in his hands.

“I, too, can’t believe you’re real,” he muttered, his breath moving your hair while snuggling you closer with one steady hand pressed against your waist. “Let’s eat, shall we? I have something for you when we’re done.”

You two ate half the bread in a single dinner, three-quarters’ pot of chicken soup was gone, and each one of you ate at least one and a half bowls of creamy spinach, but somehow, you still reached for the cookies. Your fingers froze while seeing two in particular.

Frowning, you said: “Is it you?” You took the cookie in your palm, observing the careful icing decorating the gingerbread man with fluffy chestnut hair and a leg black brace over brown pants, a white shirt on top with a little red tie to finish.

"Yes. I… eh, I made one of you, too." He took the plate and searched for the cookie, putting the rest aside over a napkin, and piling them carefully. "Here it is. Do you like it?"

“Yeah, they’re adorable! You didn’t have to, now I won’t be able to eat them.”

"That's alright, if you can eat me, you can eat this cookie." You almost choked on your half-eaten cookie. "Oh, my bad. That wasn't very appropriate, was it?"

“You can’t even pretend to be ashamed.”

“I’m not. Besides,” he took your face with one hand, eyes gazing over your lips. “I truly enjoy it.”

You could feel your cheeks hot, your heart beating so loud you were sure he could hear it. "Vikt—," your voice disappeared when he dipped his head, lips brushing yours in a quick peck.

Too quick, sadly. You gasped and he was already gone. Your free hand was already grasping his clothes in a shameless need to pull him closer.

"What we have here, hmm? Do you want me to do this, love?" But he didn't lean closer, instead taking the cookie out of your hand, pressing it against the cookie in his hand in a cookie kiss. You looked at him, but you couldn't even frown at his tease.

“Yes.”

He smiled proudly, and for a moment you wanted to smack him with the pillow. “How can I say no to you?”

Turning, you took him by the collar of his pajamas seconds after he left the cookies on the platter. Viktor chuckled before your lips could absorb the sound. His hands rested on your hips as he dragged you closer, almost on top of his body as he rested his head over the piled pillows.

The cold air covered your skin with goosebumps as Viktor lifted your shirt. You pushed him with a giggle, lips brushing with his to say: “We should start the gift exchange before doing more important business, don’t you think, dear?”

His eyes twinkled as he lay on the mattress. Viktor only muttered: "Alright," appreciatively, slowly rolling over to stand up, looking over the floor to look for his suitcase.

You helped him drag the heavy object nearer the bed's foot, stepping away while he searched its contents. Your gifts were neatly tucked at the bottom of your valise, next to the ones you were supposed to give him on his birthday—the important ones.

For a couple of minutes, all that could be heard in the room was the crinkle of papers and the friction of clothes tossed away.

The blankets were soft against your skin as you sat over the bed, your gifts tucked over your thighs. Viktor sat at the edge of the bed, his fingers tapping on his own box, expectantly.

You felt your chest tighten, rapid heartbeats echoing in your ears as you slid the box toward him. He did the same, both looking as flustered as you felt. The lamp let you see a deep pink tint in Viktor's face, from the tip of his ears to his neck. You knew that some strokes of pink would be down his chest if you'd lifted the long-sleeved shirt he wore.

Your Christmas gift was easy to guess, because, well, you didn’t hide their shapes below the envelope. They were rectangular and narrow, and when Viktor tapped them, it reverberated in muffled sounds usually found in the library, those of hard cardboard book covers.

The books were about mechanics and physics. They had arrived at the Academy a couple of months ago. You knew the titles from all those times you saw the tomes laying around the living room in the apartment you moved in together. To consult the books, Viktor had to transcribe the pages and avoid at all costs scribbling over the pages' margins, which took him much more time than it would need if he'd owned them.

So, there they were.

His eyes darted between you and the books, a toothy smile starting to appear on his lips as he appreciated them, the blush getting a dark shade of red.

"Ah, thank you, my love." He looked like an excited child fast-turning the pages of the books and encyclopedias, fingers pressed over each segment of text, graphics, and equations. After some minutes, Viktor put the books apart to reach your lips with a soft peck, his thumb rubbing circles on one of your cheeks. "It's your turn to open your gift."

It was a heavy box sealed with tape and with a red ribbon on top. As you opened it, Viktor sat against the headboard of the bed, face still red and fingers tapping nervously over the books’ covers.

Your fingers met cold metal and fine-blown glass carefully wrapped in paper. When you lifted the figure out of the box and into the air, you saw a little cherry blossom tree, with pink flowers, dark brown branches, and a trunk curved in an S shape. Over the rounded base, it had a golden button Viktor encouraged you to press with a tilt of his head.

Inside each flower’s stem was a minuscule light bulb that illuminated the cherry tree with golden-pinkish hues that reflected on the wall with the silhouettes of little stars.

“Do you…, do you like it?”

"You made it, didn't you?" You laughed, leaving the delicate lamp in a space over the nightstand, to curl yourself against him. "It's really beautiful, thank you so much..." Unexpectedly, your voice started to waver, and tears blurred your vision. "You shouldn't have—"

“Oh, no, no. Love, please don’t cry.” A loud thump over the nightstand echoed, the mattress dipping as Viktor rolled to your side, arms enveloping you as your ear pressed against his heart.

“It-it’s the most beautiful thing someone m-made for me—” you hipped, hands furiously trying to dry the stream of tears away. Viktor took them, replacing your fingers with his, much gentler.

He directed your face toward him, his gaze warming you from the outside out. Despite feeling awkward about your emotional outburst, his soft smile and twinkling eyes created a pool of warmth inside your chest.

“Well, that’s because you only deserve the most beautiful things,” Viktor said, kissing your forehead as his free hand tugged the blankets over you two, long fingers tapping out the light in the lamps on the nightstand. He put his leg over yours, tangling your limbs as you used to snuggle before falling asleep. “Merry Christmas, my love.”

You made a fist of fabric with his shirt as you tugged him closer. “Merry Christmas,” you said, meeting his lips briefly. “I love you, Viktor.”

He only hummed, beaming; his eyes were already heavy with slumber. But still, Viktor put you closer, his hand on the small of your lower back while your arm hugged his torso.

You were smiling, too.

*~*~*~*

Five days passed much faster than you’d anticipated. Snow was falling on Viktor's birthday, the sun barely peeking from between the heavy grey clouds. Viktor thought it was still around 6 or 7 AM when he opened his eyes.

What he found strange wasn’t the clock marking almost 10 AM, but instead the empty spot next to him.

The bedroom door was open, and through the crack, a sweet smell infiltrated the room, like vanilla and orange juice. A soft sizzle made him realize someone was cooking, and waves of warmth pooled inside the room against the misty windows from the chimney in the living room.

But the bed was almost too hot as if you were still snuggled up against his body. His hands patted at the heat centers near to him, to discover you had put some heating filled with hot water below the wall of pillows you aligned next to him, some of them wrapped in your sweater so he could smell you closer.

He wanted to look for you, but the thought of cold outside the pile of blankets made him falter. Instead, he just wriggled to sit against the headboard, piling pillows for him to keep him steady. It took him just a moment but was enough for you to peek at the entrance.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” You headed inside with a platter between your arms, balancing two bowls with neatly cut fruit and a little portion of boiled oatmeal still steaming, filling the air with its vanilla essence, and two glasses of orange juice.

Viktor frowned slightly when you left the trail over the coffee table to sit at the edge of the mattress, next to him, and then dipped back toward the kitchen. “I would’ve helped you with breakfast if you’d woken me up.”

You came back a couple of minutes later, and in your hands were two bowls of zelňačka soup leftovers Viktor taught you to cook yesterday.

He opened the covers for you to slide in. You stood there, taking your shoes off, and he quickly took one of your hands to push you toward him. When you leaned to give him a peck in exchange to let you go, he felt your cold nose against his and frowned. Though you were wearing one of his sweaters and some long, fluffy socks, your skin was chilly.

“Come here, or you’ll catch a cold.” Viktor wasn’t asking, so he tangled his hands around your waist to drag you down.

Finally, you slid inside the blankets, bumping your shoulders so he could slide enough to not have you dandling at the edge of the mattress.

He helped you carry the platter between his left leg and your lap. “And? Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Because you don’t usually get too much sleep, and I wanted you to rest today. Besides—” The bowl of soup was warm against the cold tips of your fingers when you took it off the platter and gave it to him, moving the spoon in circles to cool it down. “You look so handsome when asleep, I couldn’t gather the courage to wake you up.”

"I see. I'm only attractive when I'm sleeping. And if I don't have much sleep, that means—" Your laugh cut his words, but he wasn't mad. His fingers brushed yours when he cupped the bowl in his hands, leaning to kiss you on the forehead. "It's certainly a witty strategy to lure me to sleep, isn't it?"

“Is it working?”

“Perhaps. I may want to take a nap after breakfast, but only if I have company. I can’t sleep when I’m alone.”

You turned to look at him, but Viktor pretended to have his sight rooted inside the bowl. "Oh, my, look at my poor love. I won't sneak out of bed again, alright?"

He nodded, looking very proud of his achievement.

After that, you both ate in silence, the only noises were the clanking of the spoons against the bowl while cutting the potatoes, sausages, and cabbages from the zelňačka. When the soup was finished, you gave him the oatmeal. It was still hot, with some cinnamon powder scattered at the top, slices of blueberries, strawberries, and some bananas serving as the topping.

Viktor thought breakfast was done, but then you snuck up a little pastry over the platter, a slice of mocha-pounded bread with a little unlit candle on top. He felt his cheeks hot, heart pounding fast.

“Love…"

“Happy birthday, Viktor,” you said, smiling widely though your voice was wavy. “I, uh, I forget the lighter in the kitchen, but I can go for it now—”

He hugged you next to him. “It’s alright, I’ll imagine it’s lit.” Viktor blew over the candle, chuckling. “See?”

“But your wish wouldn’t come true if the candle isn’t lit.” His hold of you tightened, and he tilted his head to snuggle his nose against your hair.

“I don’t need to wish for anything, you’re already here.”

You giggled, cheeks burning hot, and you considered if he would purposefully say things like that to make you flustered. For his intense gaze searching from your eyes to your lips, he did. You cupped his cheek with your free hand, and he leaned into it, and closed his eyes when you told him: "I love you, Viktor."

Viktor leaned, half-turning his body toward you. Heavy eyelids that caressed your cheeks with his dark lashes when you closed the distance to kiss him. Your hands were interlaced, keeping the warmth inside the grip still tucked under the blankets. Viktor’s thumb rubbed circles on the inverse of your palm, and you knew the goosebumps starting to appear in your arms weren’t because the room was cold.

It wasn't anymore, quite the contrary. And it was a mystery if the cause was the hearth burning fiercely in the living room or your bodies starting to defy the chill with candid touches and kindled gazes.

You pushed the platter away, back to its place on the coffee table, breathing heavily as Viktor snuck his way down your neck. Pointy, avid teeth nibbled the skin where his pasts attentions were disappearing, marking his favorite spots again.

“You’re too far away, my love. Please come closer.” He had his arms around your waist until you were almost toppling him over, legs straddled over his lap, your hands tangled between his hair as he clashed his lips against yours, drowning any moan forming in your mouth.

You loved his kisses. They were always hungry and desperate as if he'd been starving from your touch and love. As if he'd never had the chance to have you in his arms again. He could be gentle and slow with his hands, but his kisses always gave away his inner desires, just like now one of his hands pressed your lower back so you could sit firmly on his lap, with the other grasping your right hip to keep you in place.

As your body was already accustomed to his, your hips began to swiftly grind against him while feeling him growing inside his underwear. You wouldn’t have noticed if it weren’t for Viktor’s grunts and his hands that went adrift under your sweater—his sweater technically—, already pulling down your underwear.

You tugged his hair away to breathe, hugging his shoulders to keep your balance while raising one of your legs so your panties could slide off to one of your ankles. You felt his lips peppering your shoulders with kisses before you could straddle him again, this time adding the so-much-expected friction of his underwear against your bare pussy.

He could sense you quickly dampening the fabric of his cloth, fingers caressing the sensitive skin in your inner thighs. You reached for his cock, already hard, scratching its length with your nails. Viktor bit your bottom lip as you started to stroke him.

His tip was already wet with precum when you touched it, fabric put aside, your lips forming a smile while kissing the top of his head. You paced your hand in a slow, teasing rhythm, gently separating your body from his embrace.

Viktor looked at you with heavy lids. “Where are you going, hmm?”

You looked back at him, heart pounding madly in your chest. "You know where I'm going."

He blinked, letting his embrace grow loose as you got on your elbows. You kissed his tip, any sign of a response dying in his mouth when a grunt replaced it. His familiar taste overwhelmed your tongue, arousing you even more.

You felt your cunt dripping wet, Viktor pulling the covers away so you could move freely, laying on one side so his fingers could have extensive access to your folds while a complete view of you taking him in your mouth.

First, you licked the pinky-reddish head that twitched in response, his breathing becoming uneven while one of his hands gripped your hair.

“Oh, love. You’re very mischievous.” You played with your tongue, rolling it around his shaft and down his balls before steadying yourself. A look at Viktor’s intense gaze told you that he wanted to be deep inside your throat, just as how you much wanted him to be there. “You love to take me like this, don't you?”

From your side view, you observed his legs tensing with every inch of him that went inside your mouth. His other hand rested in the curve between your jaw and your neck, long fingers feeling the outline of his cock sliding inside your throat. The other hand quickly grabbed away any rebel locks that could block his keen gaze.

Even if he was still a little shy about asking you to please him with your mouth, you'd discovered that he enjoyed it. On days when he was too tired or his body hurt too much to even let you ride him, this was the most obvious form to please each other.

Today was his birthday, so you were going to do everything in your hands to please him.

Your mouth started with slow movements from your tongue, each time moving his shaft deeper into your throat. Tears blurred your vision, but you knew you were doing it just fine when you felt Viktor’s grasp tightened, his right hand directing the pace of your tilted head now that you were taking him all the way.

He growled, head resting back against the pillows. "You take me so well, I love you so much for that, my little slut." You hummed and gagged—because you couldn't enounce another sound.

One of his hands began to play with your clit, while the other brushed away your tears with a shaky laugh. “I promise I’ll make you up for this.”

He thrust harder, using his hand to guide your head into the required pace. Your hands were unsure where to go, changing between massaging his balls and traveling down his legs and stomach, sometimes leaving marks on your nails for when he was being especially rough.

Like now, with the tip of your nose brushing the hair in his navel, your tongue caressing the base of his balls. Your nails pierced his thighs, and you felt him tensing, his pace becoming uneven while his breath got out in shallow pants. His fingers dug in and out of your stopped hand surrounding your throat.

“I’m—I’m going to—” You could barely understand what he was saying with gritted teeth, accent thick between grunts.

You felt your face vibrating in a happy hum feeling him all hard and ready, his cock getting out your mouth until only the tip was inside, lips around it. The vibration started his undoing, fingers grabbing your hair almost violently to put himself deeper as he jerked erratically inside your mouth, some hairs down his navel’s trail brushing your nose with the movement.

The taste of his seed enveloped your tongue, as it did the coughing sensation of the liquid striking your throat, some of it escaping your lips. Viktor collected it with his thumb, shoving them inside your mouth when he slid off it. You bit his thumb playfully.

Viktor retrieved his discarded shirt to clean off your mouth and chin filled with saliva.

"Now's your turn, love." You were starting to see again, delighting over the sultry view of his face, neck, and chest completely blushed in deep red; beads of sweat sticking locks of hair over his forehead, eyes still burning with lust.

You sat between his legs, the soft covers getting sticky with your arousal, your entrance some inches away from him. For his frown, you were too far.

“I think,” you said, mind foggy. “I think—I would like to wait until the night.” Even if your core was pulsing with the thought of having him deep inside. “I want to prepare something special for you, and—and I don’t think I’ll have enough time if we continue.”

Viktor cupped your right cheek, brushing your lips open with his thumb. His finger still had some faded taste of him when you licked it. “If you let me, I’ll help you prepare what you have in mind.”

“But it’s your birthday—” you started, and he shushed you with a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“I know, and I appreciate you wanting me to enjoy it. But it doesn’t sit right with me for you to do everything. Alright?”

You nodded, a slight pout popping your bottom lip. Viktor leaned against you, enveloping one hand in your back to drag you closer as he kissed you, teeth biting your pout away. “I’m sorry, that adorable face isn’t not going to convince me.”

You giggled, the sounds muffled by his eager mouth.

“That’s not fair. Why can you trick me, but I can’t?”

He brushed your noses together. “You can trick me; I just hide the fact better.” Viktor then advanced and gave you another kiss on the forehead. “Let’s draw a bath, yes?”

“Together? Sounds like a trap.”

Viktor smiled in a smug gesture, thumb lazily circling your clit. “It is if you want it to be.”

*~*~*~*

Lunch and dinner got delayed for a couple of hours, which resulted in having lunch until 6 PM. The sun was already hiding down the hills on the horizon, freezing air moving the tree branches outside. Viktor concealed as much as he could the numb pain installed in his joints because of the cold, but you could guess it well enough.

“Why did you want to come here for vacation? The cold doesn’t bother you?” you said, putting some hot compensators wrapped in some towels under his legs and one on his back.

He was sitting on the couch next to you, a sea of covers got you two bundled up. The cabin was filled with misty windows from the stove boiling food and the roaring hearth you were sitting across from.

“Because you told me when we started dating, that you’d never seen snow before.” His growing blush wasn’t linked with the flames of the hearth. “I, eh, I wanted to be the one to show it to you.”

Your fingers were cold when you interlaced them with his, but he didn’t mind. Instead, Viktor carried them to his mouth, where he kissed the knuckles with reverence, eyes closed.

You’d just finished another round of some board games you found in one of the cabinets next to the chimney, discovering that Viktor was better at Scrabble; though it could also be because he used to peek at your chips when you were distracted when a hand skidded from your hips to your inner thighs. But you were better in domino, despite the distractions.

Viktor was explaining how to play chess when you checked the clock and discovered that the new mocha bread you were baking was supposed to be out of the oven around fifteen minutes ago.

You jumped barefoot toward the kitchen. Smoke was starting to form inside the oven, so you put on your gloves and get the bread out. It was a little burned in the outer crust and down the base, but it was salvageable.

You were trying to get the bread out of the mold when you heard Viktor’s thumbs of his cane arrive at the kitchen, your shoes in one of his hands.

“Thank you,” you said, leaning against the counter to put them on.

He went to the cupboards to get a pair of bowls for another classic chicken noodle soup that awaited on the stove. A very basic pizza casserole next to it, with the remnants of the food you purchased a week before making Christmas dinner.

Viktor served the food as you prepared the breakfast bar with silverware, and steaming cups of hot cocoa alongside next an amorph mocha bread with an unlit candle at the center.

Dinner went smoothly, the clock ticking away midnight as you finished your soup. But none of you were tired. Nervousness and expectation ran through your veins like ecstasy, and it got every fiber in your body not side-look toward the Christmas tree where Viktor’s gifts were half-hidden between the rug and its decorated base.

You put the bread in front of him when he was done with the main courses, lighting the candle. Your voice was wavy and out-of-tune when you sang him the happy birthday song, but for the way Viktor was looking at you, you’d thought you were singing an overcomplicated opera.

The flames of the candle danced in his elegant features, focusing on his teary eyes before he blew it softly.

“Happy birthday, my love,” you sang at the end, your throat getting sore from an unexpected knot. “Please don’t cry. I love you.”

You stood up to sit on his lap, hugging him to hide the little stream of tears that were sneaking down your cheeks. His hands were grasping fists in your clothes, his nose buried in your hair.

“I truly don’t deserve you.”

You were playing with his hair when one of your hands hit him lightly over his heart. "That's not true! If you say that again, I'll get mad." You kissed his jaw, hearing him sigh. "I think the same about you all the time."

“But that’s not true, you deserve the best.”

“Exactly. I deserve you. And you deserve me. You’re the best for me. Do you believe me?”

Your cheek was against his heart, and you heard it beating faster, but steadily.

"I do." You tilted your head backward to kiss him, just a peck.

Your legs were starting to cramp when you got up, extending your hand to him. “Come with me, I have something for you.”

You guide him toward the Christmas tree, where you started to lay the blankets and pillows on the couch to create a nest over the rug, next to the hearth. You knelt and helped him to sit on the floor, shoulders bumping together. Viktor put his cane aside, resting against the couch. Your hands found the two enveloped gifts hidden in the changing shadows of the fire, paper cracking when you got them on his lap.

He looked at you, with wide eyes, and blushing cheeks. "Are they… for me?"

“Yeah! You can open them if you want.”

Viktor was careful not to tear the wrapping paper, slowly peeling off the adhesive tape until one of the sides of the wrapping was open so he could slide its content out.

The first one was a framed drawing of him. He was leaning over his desk, working with a new blueprint. It could have been done from the multiple times you visited the lab to make him company before going home together. It wasn’t colored, but the traces were impeccable and delicate, and he felt tears prickling because he could see the love in the forms. Your love for him.

“Love, this is… this is marvelous. No, wait, I—I don’t even think there’s a word—” You giggled, nervous.

"More often than not, you're unsure about how other people look at you, but I wanted to try and put on paper how I look at you.” Your fingers were fidgeting with your sweater. “I’m happy you liked it. But that’s not all! Look, open the other one.”

“You shouldn’t have, with this one is more than enough—” But while he was touching the paper, he felt something soft inside, like clothes. “What is it?” Viktor muttered, opening the gift.

It was little, pink, and oddly familiar. You were removed from your seat. "I… I saw it in a market, and I thought you'd like it…"

A waverider plushie lay in his lap, light and dark pink, just like his childhood friend, Rio. "Oh, love…" he sighed shakily.

“You don’t like it? I’m sorry—” Your apology died, absorbed by his sweater when he hugged you, the plushie still in his lap. You rested your chin over one of his shoulders, feeling your face tickled by his hair when he moved to snuggle closer.

"You remember it," he muttered next to your ear, and you couldn't smile.

“Of course I do. I remember everything you tell me.”

He took a distance to examine the plushie as if it were a mysterious gear of a machine he didn’t quite have in mind to create. Its eyes were brown buttons, tail deep pink just as its appendix near the head and over its spine.

Viktor moved his gaze from the plushie to you, comfortably sitting next to him, taking the wrapping paper to fold it carefully. It was an intrusive, inconsequential thought, but he liked it.

He liked to imagine a little baby tucked in a crib, with this very same plushie next to them.

Your chuckle returned to reality. You were leaning into him, putting aside locks of his hair that were covering his eyes. “What have you thought so deeply about?”

“I think I know what I want for my birthday next year,” he commented, shifting his position so he could be in front of you, putting one pillow behind you.

You blinked for a moment, confused, with a quick beam following. “Oh yeah? What is it?”

Viktor pushed you gently against the pillows and blankets, and you tangled your arms around his shoulders to stop the fall, laughing. His face was inches away from yours, breath fanning over the rebel hairs around your brow.

“A baby of my own, if you’ll be so kind as to give it to me.” He peppered your face and neck with kisses as he slowly settled you against the little nest of blankets and pillows.

You let him go when your head hit the pillow. Feeling your cheeks growing hotter, you raised your hips to help him take off your underwear, keeping your legs open and hovering in the air. “Oh. In that case, you’ll have to earn the right.”

Your hands were trying to roll off his sweater, when Viktor took a distance, sitting over a cushion, the couch used as a backrest.

“Fair enough.” He began to pile up some pillows in front of him, in the middle of his open legs.

“If it hurts, then I can be on top, or you can take me from behind." You were about to propel yourself up with your elbows, but Viktor pushed you down once again. Still sitting, Viktor took one of your legs, hand wrapped around your ankle as he dragged your body to turn it so he could have a broad, complete view of your little, naked cunt.

“That won’t do, I want to see you.”

You were already sticky and wet when your back rested over the piled pillows, hips higher as your back arched down. Viktor took one of your legs, heel resting over the couch’s seat. He blew cold air over your molten, boiling core and chuckled when you moaned back. Your skin started to be covered with goosebumps, his name enounced in half a plea and half a demand.

You'd repeated his name if it weren't for the gaze he dedicated to your body, belly bare as the oversized sweater ran down to let him peek at your breasts. His eyes seemed to synchronize with the flames of the hearth as the amber in them crackled and burned, darker. After what felt like a frozen eternity, his gaze lazily climbed to your face, where he smiled almost unnoticeable, a slight curve toward the right.

You bit your lip, and his gaze settled down, finally carrying your other leg lower, your heel resting in the curve of his left shoulder, where you could sense the soft leather of his back brace.

He passed a finger through your folds, humming happily when you squirmed, back arching even more.

“My love, you’re always so eager.” His fingers easily came in and out of you, and quickly, he found a rhythm that enveloped the room between the frizzling sounds of the burning logs against the hearth, and the lewd, wet sounds of his fingers pleasing you.

Viktor adored watching you wriggling, hips buckling against his fingers with such necessity. Lust knotted, tugged heavy at his stomach, and down further. He’d never thought something so simple could make you enjoy it so much.

You clenched around his fingers, but you were so wet you didn't notice at first. Your whimpers grew in between your pants. He re-accommodated, so his hand wouldn't get cramped, and resumed the pace, this time much quicker, his other hand hovering near your swollen clit in light circles.

Your throat would be sore tomorrow, with all the squeals getting out of it now that nobody could hear you, half of them being his name and the other bunch divided into praises and commands to do it faster, deeper. He felt both aroused and proud, a smile expanding on his lips as you locked your hips, thighs tense as you screamed, your walls collapsing and expanding between his fingers in rapid pulses, your arousal covering his hand and pooling down toward your ass.

His cock twitched inside his pants, wanting to be buried deep inside you. You were trying to roll out your position, but Viktor stopped you, fingers grabbing your ankles to open you even more as his head dipped between your legs.

The last waves of your orgasm were still running through your pussy, shiny arousal escaping your folds. He took all of what he could with his mouth, tongue licking carefully as you jumped with the unexpected kiss.

His tongue became cheeky, cleaning your arousal from between your folds, hands cupping your butt to keep you open up. But you kept getting wet, and he continued licking, moaning, and grunting against your pussy.

“Vik—ktor—wai—" your words got interrupted when a scream formed deep within your chest. Viktor was licking your already sensible cunt with renewed effort, nose brushing your clit with each tilt of his head.

You came fast, and it hurt, a strange kind of bliss that felt like a burning pain running through your sensible muscles, straining your already tense legs. His hands ran from your ass to your thighs when you started to choke him, fingers digging at the skin in your inner thighs, knowing full well they would get bruised.

Viktor has never minded that, and as proof, while you cum, he dedicated his time to mark them with his teeth and then showered the marks with kisses, his breath fanning over your pulsing core, eyes fixated on it too.

Just as you stopped pulsing, he put a kiss on your clit, brushing it with his nose in a rhythm that made you writhe, trying to get up into your elbows.

“Wait! Viktor… please! It—I’m too sensible.”

He blew at your entrance again, the cold air meeting your hot core now dripping from your arousal and his saliva. You shivered. “That’s good, isn’t it, love? I’m doing it just right.”

You whimpered in response, and Viktor chuckled. “Does that mean I can try to have my baby now?” He saw your pussy tensing with his words, cupping your ass as he helped you to lower your legs. A moan escaped your mouth. “I’ll take that as a confirmation, my love.”

You sat, disheveled hair that couldn’t hide the lust in your eyes. Viktor took the hem of your sweater and pulled it over your head, discharging the wool and cotton fabric over the couch. You were finally naked, and his view seemed to drink for each inch of your body, feeling a warmth each time his gaze lingered at your legs, stomach, breasts, shoulders, and face.

“You’re so enticing, I wish I could draw you like this so you could see what you make me feel,” he said against your ear, lying on the side, next to you.

Your smile was mischievous, fingers running from his chest to the hem of his underwear, patting his hard shaft. “I think I have an idea about it.” Supporting your weight with your elbows, you reached for him, wanting his lips against yours, his tongue exploring his mouth and leaving a taste of your own essence.

Your hands were fiercely pulling his clothes out, pulling when it got stuck in his back brace, fumbling with anger when his zipper got stuck and you yanked so strongly it broke.

Viktor laughed against your lips. “It seems you owe me a pair of pants, love.”

You grunted back, biting his bottom lip.

Without breaking the kiss, you helped him to pull down his underwear, stroking his cock with a familiar rhythm, nails sometimes scratching at its base and down his balls. Viktor bit his way down to your breasts, stealing shaking breaths from your lips.

You were both panting, needy of air as much as you were for each other. Viktor brushed your noses together.

“May I?” he asked, voice rough and accent thick. You rolled, positioning him on top of you. Your new position was a few inches away from the enclosed hearth, flames licking your skin, crackles of the burned wood soothing your ears.

You could see beads of sweat falling from Viktor’s temples, sticking his hair to his forehead and down his neck.

Your heels dug against the blankets when you opened your legs from him. “Please.”

He straddled you, a little pillow at each side of your thighs where he rested his knees. You rose your hips to meet him midway, desperation and need growing in your taut stomach. Now that you were familiar with his size, Viktor could bury himself all the way inside you in one thrust.

Your nails scratched both his back brace and his skin when you put him in a possessive hug full of wanting him to get deeper, pumping in that sweet spot that made you grow breathless. You knew your fingers would get scraped with all the force you were putting, brushing over his notches and metallic rods, but it didn't matter.

All that mattered was having him thrusting deep inside of you, to feel his eager mouth roaming your shoulders and breasts as he looked at you as if you were the most stunning creature in the universe.

For him, you were so much more.

His mouth was playing with one of your hard nipples, the little peak coming in and out and around his tongue, eyes locking into yours from beneath his dark lashes. You saw his arms shaking from all the weight he was putting on them, but he didn’t let you speak to offer him relief.

Viktor changed his attention to the other nipple, leaving the other sore and hard. “How is it possible for you to be this perfect?”

You were too lost in your pleasure to say something more than: “Viktor.”

"You're doing it perfectly, my love," he said, liberating your nipple and watching it bounce before catching it again. "I love how you're always ready for me."

Viktor let his body fall against yours, caging your hips so he could resume the pace much faster. You arched your back and raised your legs, to both give him more access to your breasts and to feel him filling you completely.

He felt it too, hips buckling desperately against your stomach. Your hands navigated from his back to his hair, pulling him closer.

“We’re going to have a beautiful baby, right, my love?” His pace became uneven, weight pulled down against you as he grunted, biting one of your nipples as he felt you clenching around his cock. “As my belated birthday gift.”

“Yes! Yes, please!” You screamed, hands tangled around his shoulders.

He finished first, hips caught against yours as he filled you still being deep inside your cunt. You felt his warm seed traveling down your walls, spilling outside down his base and your ass. Viktor had his head buried in your chest, his hair tickling the flushed skin. He was grunting and whimpering and biting the skin of your breasts as he pumped his seed with each twitch of his cock.

You soothed him, brushing his hair and rubbing circles in his back.

The high of his orgasm rode off. However, he noticed you haven’t cum yet, so he didn’t slide off you. Instead, he rolled so your body was on top, straddling him.

"Let me please you, love. Take your pleasure from me." His eyes were shiny and bright, lips swollen for your kisses.

You rode him, hands over his shoulders while your gaze scanned his complete body, now sweaty and filled with scratching and biting marks. The pace was quick and wet, and you could see his cum pooling on his navel as you slid up and down his shaft. Viktor was still hard, hips thrusting against yours by pure instinct even if he hissed when you quickened the pace.

His hands enveloped your lower back, the other caressing your cheek lovingly. Viktor was still playing with your tits, taut peaks expecting his sweet licks once again.

You wouldn’t hold on much longer, finally collapsing on his lap as you finished, with him still deep buried inside you, screaming at your pussy clasping him as tight as you were hugging him.

“Viktor,” you cried against his ear, head buried in the curve of his neck.

“I love you,” he answered back, shushing you as the last ripples of your orgasm left you exhausted and numb.

You didn’t recollect when he laid you against the blankets, a pillow down your head. You whined as you felt him slide out of you.

"I'll come back." Viktor stood up. The changing light of the flames let you admire your work from early in the morning and now; pink and red traces of scratches covering his stomach and down his navel; some lovebites marked in purple and red on his neck, shoulders, and even scattered over his chest. As he turned his back at you, you saw more scratches where the back brace didn't cover.

You were napping when Viktor came back minutes later. Brushing your sensitive skin with one wet towel. You moaned at feeling the slow circles he was drawing in your skin, passing the dry one to finish.

A little towel was dedicated to cleaning the mess he left between your legs. Your hips wriggled at feeling the rough texture down your folds, teasing rubs in your clit. He kissed your brow from time to time.

"You did so well today, my love. Thank you." Your eyelids were heavy, but between blinks, you could see his satisfied smile.

Viktor cleaned your entire body, first with the damp towel, and then drying the skin that was covered in goosebumps—not for the cold, but for his touch—; stopping occasionally to steal a bite from your stomach, or your shoulder, or the skin of your inner thighs.

You recovered enough strength to sit and help him clean himself and remove his back brace. You rubbed him with the wet towel while Viktor dried himself. Though it took more than expected because you liked to play with his cock which was getting hard again.

Viktor followed your example, snuggling against your body to kiss you and touching your already-cleaned pussy—which was starting to become wet once more.

It was around 4 AM when you were settling in your improvised bed, the hearth burning brightly as Viktor collocated new logs near the fire. He slid to bed shortly after, and you hugged him, one of your legs between his legs so his right could rest over your hip.

He hugged you back, kissing your brow lightly. “Thank you for today, my love. It was the best birthday I’ve ever had.” He tilted his head to meet your lips. “I promise I’ll make up to you. I’m already planning what I can do for your birthday.”

You chuckled, a sleepy smile playing on your lips that made his heart melt. "I'm glad you liked it, love. You deserve it."

It could have been the reddish flames of the renewed fire, but you saw Viktor’s cheeks tinting a deep red.

“Could, eh, could we do this next year, too?”

You snuggled your cheek over his chest, heart beating strongly, perhaps a little faster than usual. You loved that sound.

“Of course. As long as you want to.”

A pause. His hands enveloped your waist and pressed you closer.

“Would you still be here next year, with me?” You could have imagined that. It was muttered too low to recognize the familiar rumble in his chest when he talked.

"I promise," you said, and his grasp tightened. "I love you, Viktor. My love isn't going to go anywhere. Just with you."

He sighed, shoulders relaxed while his breath became more profound, but his embrace remained firm and secure.

“Just like my love for you,” he whispered back, and then both fell asleep.

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redr0sewrites · 6 months ago

Note

Viktor general romance hcs!

🥀A/n: HES SO POOKIE I LOVE HIM‼️

🥀Cw: fluff, smut, slight angst if u squint, switch!viktor

🥀minors dni with the nsfw portion

sfw:

this man is such a workaholic, he genuinely never thought that he would fall in love

viktor is very inexperienced in the romance department, so he's definitely a little awkward at first

once he's close with someone, he definitely starts to open up to them a lot more! he'd really appreciate a partner that he can have deep, philosophical conversations with and definitely asks for your opinion on a lot of things

your a very valuable person in his life, and viktor makes sure that you know that. while he may not be great with words, his actions show that he truly cares for you

while he may not admit it, viktor loves when you complete acts of service for him or help him at all. he loves when you visit him in the lab and bring him some coffee, it always makes his day

because he works so much and spends so much time in the lab, viktor will often invite you to join him there. you two often spend hours together, just sitting in near-silence and working in tandem. viktor would love it if you got along well with jayce (and sky too but mostly jayce), you are his favorite people and he would love it if you all got along

viktor isn't the most cuddly person in the world, but he makes some exceptions for you! after a long day, he loves just melting into your embrace and having you play with his hair. viktor would spend hours just laying in your lap and rambling about hextech if he could

he's not big on pda, but he loves holding your hand. viktor holds your hand anywhere and everywhere, he always wants you as close to him as possible and he'll sometimes trace words into the back of your hand with his thumb when you are asleep. before he said "i love you" out loud, viktor probably traced it against your skin at least a million times.

viktor prefers to stay in for dates, and definitely enjoys staying up late with you. idk if they have television in the world of arcane, but it seems a little shocking that they can have giant magical teleportation portals and literal magic orbs and magic flying blimps and body enhancing drugs but haven't created a tv. so like. lets just pretend they do have television. cuz if they do, than you and viktor DEFINITELY have movie marathons and movie nights together

he loves making you little trinkets and gifts!!! whenever there is extra material leftover at the lab, viktor's first thought is to make something for you! he once made you an entire bouquet of fake flowers out of scrap metal, and told you that he would love you until the flowers withered (it would never wither cuz its made of metal ☹️). your home is practically overflowing with these little trinkets, but you REFUSE to get rid of any of them (i think i saw the flower scenario on a tiktok, but URGRHRHRH i wanna write it so... if anyone is interested... 😇)

honestly, the best time spent with viktor is in the comfort of your own home. you have a very domestic relationship, and he likes sitting with you in comfortable silence.

he'll call you pet names in zaun, even before you two are together😭

overall, viktor is genuinely such a sweetheart once he trusts you and will stay by your side no matter what

nsfw:

SWITCH LEANING SUB 🫵🫵🫵

because of his leg and overall sickness, viktor definitely prefers simpler positions that don't require a lot of physical stress

he likes having you on top of him so that he doesn't have to put pressure on his knee, and he definitely prefers not having to push himself too hard

i'd say his favorite positions would probably be you riding him, sitting on his face, lotus position, and maybe 69 or missionary too (but the last two are only on good days when he isn't in too much pain)

at first, viktor was insecure about sleeping with you because he genuinely does not think very highly of himself and didn't want you to think that he was weak or ugly :( please reassure him

ON THAT TOPIC!!! PRAISE!!!!!!

praise is literally SO important to him, while it is one of his kinks i genuinely think he appreciates it outside of the bedroom as well.

lots and lots of communication. "is this ok", "can i touch you here", type of stuff. he's very gentle with you, and obviously you are with him as well

because he wears his leg brace literally all the time, viktor has a handful of bruises and scars from the brace rubbing against his skin 24/7 (idk if he sleeps w it on tbh- im assuming not but u get the point) and he can be a little insecure about them. PLEASE kiss them and show his body a lot of affection in general

viktor isn't super vocal at first, but once he trusts you he lets out the neediest whines and moans. he curses a lot under his breath, and he has a verrryyyyy pretty fucked-out expression.

this man is a switch 100%. most of the time he subs and bottoms, but sometimes he'll dom from the bottom and very occasionally he'll dom from on top. when he's a sub i definitely see him as, like, the male version of a pillow princess. he definitely just wants to lay back and get taken care of, and will get very pouty if you do not do so. he loves being pampered and praised and he's SOOO sensitive when he's subbing. when he's in a more dominant mood, i see him getting off on your pleasure a lot more than his own. he loves fingering you, and definitely loves overstimulating you

viktor loves being marked and also marking you. he bites down on your shoulder a lot to muffle his moans, and he loves giving you hickeys. i genuinely think that's another one of his kinks as well

TOYS!!! im sorry but this man definitely has an extensive collection of sex toys you can't tell me im wrong bc im not. he isn't inexperienced by any means, but he probably got a lot of toys over the years because he just didn't really have that many partners and just wanted to try a bunch of things on his own yk? anyways, he fucking LOVES using them on you and teasing you mercilessly is definitely part of your guys' foreplay

this man has the most gorgeous hands and definitely puts them to good use‼️ you cannot tell me viktor does not have amazingly skilled hands bc your wrong. he literally does jayce told me

i don't think he's super vanilla but i also don't think he's into like SUPER hardcore bdsm? i think it would intrigue him but he's probably the type to be into what you are into and if you want to try something new, he's more than willing (as long as its safe. either of you getting seriously hurt is a major nono for him). that being said, i don't think he'd mind being handcuffed or experimenting a bit with shibari, but you guys DEFINITELY have a safeword. like even if you have 100% vanilla soft sex he still establishes a safeword with u and makes sure your comfortable.

overall, his kinks include: praise (giving and receiving), little bit of edging (receiving), overstimulation (only giving), marking, and kind of a wildcard but also maybe somnophilia. like he would NOT complain about waking up to head lmao- he's def the type to have wet dreams i want to write this omg

i am so! tired!!! still feeling very crappy but i am pushing through my classes until the end of the year 😭 i am so close and yet so far 🙂‍↕️

ANYWAYS HOPE U ENJOYED!!! FEEL FREE TO SEND IN ARCANE REQUESTS!!! ive also been on a huge jayce x viktor streak lately? im not usually a big shipper but their dynamic intrigues me. i want to put them in a jar together and shake them around a bit. but yea i love them both!!!

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hyperesthesias · 1 year ago

Text

Starlight Immemorial

Notes: Excerpt to a fanfiction I will never write in its entirety. I swear it makes sense in my head. If you'd like listening material while you read, May Be by Yiruma is what I wrote this to.

Context: Anya is a wealthy benefactor to the Academy and to Viktor. They grew up together in Zaun, and reconnected six months ago. After a violent incident with the head of Public Relations, Viktor was tasked with cozying up to Anya, as she was a prospective donor at the time. During that time, they have rekindled their friendship, and have unspoken feelings for each other. Anya's species lives for centuries, and Viktor's body is uncooperative due to Post Polio Syndrome.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

The seasons were changing, and there was a biting chill that threatened the air. It wasn’t enough to keep the guests of the Academy fundraising dinner from wandering outside, but it bated most to reach for coats and shawls. Anya, however, found the cold a welcome reprieve from the stuffiness inside the ballroom. Even if she was starting to shiver.

She stood on a balcony, her hands wrapped around her bare arms as she watched the stars begin to emerge on the horizon. The sun had long since set, but her eyes were adjusting to the dark. One by one, she watched them glitter with fervence – she made it a game to point out to herself which points of light were actually stars, and which were planets. Planets don’t twinkle, they’re constant sources of immovable light. And if she stared just long enough, she could make out the color of each point of light: some were red, some were blue, some planets were yellow. She smiled to herself, contemplating existence beyond her own.

“Are you bored?” She heard a familiar voice call out from behind her.

Anya started and turned to see Viktor making his way towards her onto the balcony. He had his cane in one hand, and the other in his pocket.

Her smile widened and they shared a mutual chuckle. “I don’t like parties.”

“They are repetitive,” he admitted and settled beside her.

She looked behind him in the distance, towards the open door – others were mingling, with soft murmurs of buoyant conversation that could be heard echoing off the marble walls outside. It was all bland and grey, despite the colorful frocks and expensive jewellry. There were no points of light to focus on, no twinkling, no thoughts besides carefully traded words. “Won’t you be missed?” she asked, unenvious of his responsibility to represent the Academy.

He cast a doubtful expression and turned to watch the party. “I doubt it,” he shrugged. “There is little I can contribute that differs from what Heimerdinger and the others have to say.”

She scoffed and eyed him. “That’s not true.”

“...That the guests would appreciate,” he clarified.

She laughed. “I don’t mind being a captive audience to anything you have to say. Especially about your work, about your projects.”

It had been six months since Viktor had reconnected with Anya – who had more than graciously given him patronage and funding for his own personal projects. In that time he had also met the like-minded inventor, Jayce, with whom he had become fast friends. Between them both, Viktor had considered himself lucky – happy, even – to have people who shared his interests, who understood how he thought and spoke.

“You are cold,” he said, watching as her fingers trembled against her skin. Her species was acclimated to a hotter climate, accounted for in their cultural dress. She wore a soft pink, half sheer dress with a small train that gathered at her feet; it draped off her shoulders and left most of her upper arms and decolletage bare. He regretted that he had no coat to give her.

She looked up at him, her cheeks and the tip of her nose beginning to shine a rosy color; her hands rubbed against her arms to garner warmth. Quietly, she stepped closer to him, brushing herself against his side.

Viktor made no effort to move. He cupped a hand against the back of her shoulder, careful not to lay a finger on her sacred hair; though it had been wrapped in a sheer veil since the incident six months ago. “Don’t you prefer to go inside?”

Anya sighed and looked behind them again – the mindless shuffling of people who regarded each other in little opinion above monetary value. “I would rather be cold,” she looked up at him and chuckled.

He suppressed a laugh and stroked his thumb against her.

“I feel safe here. With you,” Anya said. Her voice hesitated for a fraction of a moment, and she wondered if he found her a fool.

Viktor’s eyes fell captive on her, examining her – searching for any sign of humor or teasing. Women had never been kind to him, they never gave him a second glance. Anya was his friend – this he knew. But still, he wondered. The thought that she would toy with him was almost too much to bear.

Her gaze didn’t leave him, and the longer he remained silent, the quicker she found herself a fool. She was about to break her sight from him, when she felt the warmth of his fingers caressing the side of her face.

Viktor realized, in that moment, he hadn’t felt safe anywhere – or with anyone. He lived with the constant fear and pressure that all he had worked for would be taken from him; that he would fall from the favor of those around him, that his menial success would be short lived, transient. But Anya had been his friend in childhood, and his friend now. With her, he felt safe. Seen.

She leaned closer as his thumb graced the edge of her jaw.

He bowed to her and brushed his nose against hers – she was cold and harsh against his warmth. He dragged his lips against her skin, until they found hers; and gently, he placed a kiss upon her. A wave of delight pulsed through him as he felt her return the gift. He parted only for a moment to find the softness of her eyes – warm and brilliant, stars themselves. They begged him, continue.

His lips rested on hers again, where he gave her small, languid pecks. His hand caressed her arm as he worked his way towards her cheek and jaw – her skin was soft and delicate, she smelled of sweet fruit and precious wood oil. He stroked his face against hers, rolling his head to rest on her brow; he kissed both her eyes and placed another on her mouth. And another on her cheek, and another on her jaw.

Anya rolled her head, granting him permission to trail downwards her neck. Gentle kisses fell onto her throat like soft flower petals, where his breath warmed her from the inside. Her body shivered at the feeling of cold to sudden hot.

He touched her with reverence, each brush of his lips begging entreaty for the next – as if he were saying a prayer. Her hands tangled among his collar and his vest, clinging to the fabric she could reach as he tenderly pressed into her.

Viktor’s hand strayed only to the curve of her side, where it rested above her hip; his fingers massaging the comfort of her figure. He could feel her pulse as he gently graced his tongue across her throat – slower than a human’s, yet quickened for the kind she was – he felt her breath stop as he kissed her vein. Her hands dug into him, but she made not a sound. His body ached that he could bring her to rapture, but it would neither cooperate with his passions, nor his desires.

Yet, even if his body had not been maimed by the effects of his childhood illness, her kind took only one lover for the long centuries of their lives. He knew he would not survive the lifespan of his own species, much less Anya’s. To indulge his longing, despite his love for her, would be nothing more than selfish cruelty.

His mouth rested on her bare shoulder – now warmed by his breath and by her own desire. He trailed his hand up her figure and where it found its way against the thin sleeve of her dress. Again, he speckled her with soft kisses, before his brow rested on the edge of hers, his eyes closed, his breath held. There was no more heart within him to look her in the eye.

Her hands wound along his neck, where light sweat had gathered from the heat underneath his collar. Without him speaking, she knew the thoughts that had crossed his mind – they haunted her, also.

Still, he nestled his nose against hers, and reached to touch his lips upon hers once more, stopping short of her. He waited there, waiting to see if she would answer his call, waiting to see if he was the only one who felt so strongly.

“You are trembling,” she said.

He took a sharp breath in, and shook his head once, unconvincingly. “I am cold.”

She smiled. “No you’re not.”

A dampened smile pulled at him, and he kept his sights from her eyes. “No, I am not.”

Anya had no words to offer him, the same fear inside of him had stirred itself in her, and she struggled to keep it at bay. Her thumbs stroked the edges of his face as her hands lay cupped against his neck. He wouldn’t look at her, but she wished he would. Viktor always had such gentle eyes – full of warmth and curiosity. Even when he was in pain, they were kind.

She reached and met his lips one more time. Deeper this time, desperate, and full of foolish hope – that two hundred years from now, she would remember exactly the way he kissed her. That when his life had disappeared, as a star fades from the night sky, she would remember exactly where to look to find him within her heart.

Viktor clasped her shoulder and sought for even a taste of her – grateful for such a taste of her sweetness, no matter how small, and despite his hunger. He would never forget it.

#viktor #viktor arcane #viktor fanfic #arcane oc #viktor x oc #viktor fanfiction #viktor league of legends #viktor the machine herald #machine herald #oc x viktor #viktor x anya

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ficfanatictrf · 2 years ago

Text

The Night Stand (Part 14)

Summary: The changes over the next few days

Word Count : 1.6k

Edited and Proofread by nobody A/N : Sorry for this one being shorter. I just really liked where it ended and felt that adding more might just make it a little to much.

---- ---- ---- ----

Viktor found that as the days ticked by, the more aware he was of a simple fact.

There was no way that he would be able to handle spending a night apart from you now.

After his whole life always finding that he could never get his mind to settle, that he would have idea after idea once consumed by the darkness, he found himself sinking into your gentle touch. The warm and loving embrace of someone who truly cared for him was addictive, yet it was a vice that he was not worried about solving.

Waking up nearly a week after you completely moved in, finding the two of you intertwined in such a way that he wasn’t sure where you started and he began. He was aware of just how at peace he was, how rested and simply happy he was for the new day.

Looking back, the past few days were pure bliss. From the morning you two shared, teasing each other, his work feeling productive as he wasn’t running on only coffee, and then coming home to loving kisses and tender words.

He found that by the time the two of you retreated to the bedroom, he was out as soon as he felt the gentle scratches against his scalp and the soft humming of a childhood song he didn’t recognize.

In his mind, there was no turning back.

He was completely enraptured by you.

And as the days had passed, he didn’t believe that there was anything that would make his life better than where it was at the present moment.

---- ---- ---- ----

He also began to notice little changes around the house, the increase in reading material on weddings that he was finding scattered amongst his things. From the dog eared pages, the circled pictures and jotted notes, it wasn’t hard to come to the conclusion that you were thinking of what you wished to do for your own wedding.

‘Our wedding’ he thought, feeling his cheeks heat up at the very thought of seeing you in a wedding dress. Whatever type of dress you chose, he knew it would look stunning, not because of how it made you look but because he could just imagine how it would make you feel.

There was nothing as blinding as your joyful smile after all.

And then, just as quickly as these items appeared, they suddenly disappeared.

He woke up one morning to find that every catalog had been removed, every picture disposed of. And as much as he wanted to ask about it, the two of you hadn’t discussed them being there in the first place. Surely if you wished to discuss something about their future together you would talk to him about it?

In all honesty, he wanted to keep things the way they were currently. You had started to feel better from the hormonal changes, able to start leaving the house without feeling sick. He had asked that you only make short trips, not wanting you to faint like you did weeks prior.

But he was glad to see you getting some of your spark back, the drive that he had always adored starting to ignite once more.

If you simply didn’t want to look at wedding ideas at that time, that was fine. Sure, he would be disappointed that you had decided to wait, but if it meant you being like yourself again he would wait till you were ready.

So, after another day in the lab, having been left there mostly by himself as Jayce had been called away for some counselor nonsense, he was surprised to find the place smelling of home.

For a moment, he was brought back to memories of his mother cooking, the foods that always brought them closer together. The kindness that was shared between them, the safety and love that the smell and food always left him.

Rushing to remove his shoes, he made his way inside to find not just you and the food that he was imagining but a small package that you were nervously holding onto.

“So, for the past couple days I have been working on a little project of mine” You started softly, nervously shifting between your feet. All the while Viktor couldn’t help but wish to reach out to comfort you - knowing that he needed to give you the space and time to speak the things you needed to say.

“Before you get mad at me, I always went with a friend” You whispered, watching at the man’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “I needed to travel back and forth between here and the Undercity a few times”

“You said you wouldn’t travel far!”

“I know”

“That is the very definition of far”

“I know, just listen please. I always went with a friend and we took plenty of breaks. I promise, I did fine, no issues”

Viktor was livid, just the very thought of you, pregnant and defenseless being anywhere near his childhood home. The thought of what would happen if you fainted in those streets made him sick to his stomach, and to know you were going there secretly behind his back?

“I did a little snooping around and found a small group of people who had the same accent as you” You said quickly, drawing his attention to the food that was on the table before he had a chance to speak.

“I believe it is…” You trail off, pulling out the handwritten recipe to try and read what the name of the dish was called. “...hal…ob..key?”

“Holubky” He whispered softly, the bashful smile you sent his way killing whatever anger he had inside of him.

Taking the last few steps towards your side, he reached and took hold of one of them before inspecting the meal. Just from touch alone he could tell that it had been steamed the appropriate amount of time, the cabbage wrapping being soft but not jelly-like.

And upon taking a bite?

If before it had felt like home, this was like living in a memory. The spices took over his senses, the familiar textures and tastes reminding him of a time where everything was simple.

Bite after bite was taken without meaning too, not speaking a word as he ate the whole thing before reaching for another.

“I’m glad you like it” You teased softly, seeing just how much he was enjoying it as he was nearly stuffing his mouth as he went. “I figured I should at least have a few recipes from your home up my sleeve as you wife”

Chuckling at your words, it had been enough to get him to pause in his gorging to look over at you with a small smirk. “I don’t believe you are my wife just yet, my love”

“Actually-” You started, the nervousness you had been exhibiting earlier coming back in full force as you slowly opened the folder to reveal..

A marriage license.

Not the application, not the processing paperwork. The actual marriage license.

“I wanted…needed you to be there for the birth…as much as I was trying to figure out a way to bypass our stupid laws and rules, I couldn’t figure out anything else but this” You whispered, hands starting to tremble at the idea that he would be angry at you for this.

Flipping to the next document, you held it out as you bit your lip, anxiety pulsing through your veins.

“With us married I was able to put in your name for citizenship. The application process usually takes months, but I might have pulled some strings by calling Jayce in today to get it expedited.”

You both were silent for a moment, Viktor’s eyes reading over the document being handed to him.

It appeared that Jayce had argued that due to his involvement with Hextech, he was a vital member of the Piltover populace and with his contributions to the world's view of Piltover, it was honestly in their best interest to have him as a citizen.

But, as he read over it over and over again. You saw all the issues that you had noticed till now.

Looking at the marriage license, you cringed at the fact that you had needed to give him your last name so that the citizenship document had a first and last name - you having wasted a whole day running back and forth as they wouldn’t accept an incomplete application.

“...I am sure we can change your last name if you hate mine…”

Your voice was soft and timid, still waiting for him to explode on you for having done something so rash without his knowledge or consent.

Finally looking up from the document in his hands, it didn’t take much inspection for him to see that you were shaking from your nerves being overworked.

Reaching out, cradling your face in his hands, he was quick to try and kiss away all the worries you had in your head. With his lips trailed over your face between words, he hoped desperately that you understood that he was anything but upset with you.

“Darling, môj miláčik, moja žena, I am in no way angry with you over this. You didn’t need to learn such a complex recipe because of this. Moja žena, I come home to find food from my childhood, to find that you are not my fiancee but my wife, to know that now I can be by your side in the hospital forever more?”

Finally stopping his kisses, he rested his forehead softly against your own. With eyes closed and hands still holding your cheeks as his thumbs ran tiny circles up your eyes, you found that slowly you felt the tension in your body start to dissipate.

“I have some things I will need to discuss with you, but your actions are much appreciated. Truly, you have lightened my heart knowing that I will be able to support you during the birth. Thank you”

---- ---- ---- ----

Taglist : @cheeriecherrymain @fairy-writes @thehistoriangirl @aikoiya @piperdoodles @alternate--simp @linky-dinks @bruh-anator3000 @somethingthatsaysbubbles @vigilentballofpassion @nunyabeeswaxsblog @blackswansociety

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that-salty-ghost · 2 years ago

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As Above, So Below | Chapter 24: Date Night Pt 2: Sinking Ship | Viktor [Arcane] // Male Reader | Rating: M Throughout

A/N: I was high af on NyQuil writing half of this and sick with covid the other half so this chapter has ✨personality✨ Word Count: ~5k Summary: Viktor's idea of a good time is a felony Tags: drinking, swearing, crimes, mention of drowning Last Chpt: Date Night Pt 1: Not So Smooth Sailing Check my pinned post for more details/previous chapters/etc.

The two of you pack up as it starts to get dark and follow the river back—catching up about Viktor’s day along with his lack of luck with finding a new work space.

“You’ll find the right one. Do you need a lot of space or something?”

“Not at all, in fact I’d rather sacrifice square footage if it meant I could use more funds for higher grade materials.”

“What kind of materials are you looking for?”

Viktor’s eyes light up as he sorts through his mental checklist. “I’m still developing the blueprints, but so far I know I’ll need titanium and ehh…either charcoal or activated carbon.”

You purse your lips as you look up, gaze unfocused while you run through where you could trade for those goods, especially the last one. “I could help with that if you want? Least I can do if you’re interested in helping me with metalwork?”

“Yes.” His eager smile spreads easily to you. “Yes, I think we’d make a good team.”

“I think so too…Oh! Speaking of work—” You turn your body as you go through one of your holsters, catching Viktor’s attention as you find the goggles and pull them out. “I’m not sure if these are your style, but I thought they might come in handy when you find your lab space.”

You hold them out hesitantly, unsure of what he’ll think of your Piltie-purchased wares. Reading him is tough, his brows furrow in confusion as he takes the goggles from you, eyes softening the more he inspects them.

That’s gotta be a good sign, right?

“Consider it an early housewarming—err—labwarming…present.” You stutter and cringe at yourself as you try to bounce back. “And uh…just a gift for…you…too.”

Fuck’s sakes, just stop talking.

A small smile parts his lips, brows flicking quickly before he looks back up at you. There’s not much distance between you and you swallow nervously when his eyes catch yours.

You open your mouth to speak, but can only inhale sharply when you feel Viktor’s arms around you—pulling you close to his chest as his fingers find purchase across your shoulders. The initial shock of it all causes you to freeze, arms stiff at your sides until you realize what’s happening. Slowly, you move your hands up until you’re wrapped around the small of his back, happily returning his embrace.

His hips are narrower that you were expecting as you your arms enfold him. Steady, measured breaths fill his chest that presses gently against yours, lowering your heart rate with each inhale as your body heat courses through one another.

The way his hair tickles your ear makes you accidentally nuzzle into his neck and you pause, horrified that you’ll scare him off. A soft sound leaves him at the sensation, a mix between a chuckle and a sigh before he leans the side of his head against yours in return, breath warm against your skin as his low whisper sends a shiver through your entire being.

“Thank you.”

You can’t fight the urge to lean in closer to his touch, lips almost grazing his ear as you answer with a breathy “You’re welcome.” A soft grin teases its way onto your face when you feel the muscles in his back tense up, a small display that you’re having the same effect on him as you revel in the way his grip tightens around your shoulders.

When he eventually pulls away, a pitiful noise almost escapes as his warmth leaves you. But the way he drags his hands from your shoulders to your chest heats you right back up. Your mouth remains parted as you watch him trace his fingers along the leather of your holsters.

“This is resourceful.” He states as he studies the tool. “You have any other gifts hiding in here?”

The way his knuckles dip under the strap across your chest causes him to pull you forward just slightly. You feel your head tip up unconsciously as you exhale through your mouth, giving him better access with eyes wide open when you see him notice the subtle movement. He tilts his head down and to the side while his smug grin spreads like wildfire.

Fuck. He knows you’re enjoying this.

“I left your chocolates at home.” You blurt out as your heart thumps from your chest into the back of Viktor’s hand. He cocks a brow and loosens his grip on your holster.

“You…got me chocolates?”

“Uh, accidentally a little. Yeah. They were for my sister…I guess.”

“You have a sister?”

“No.”

“…Oh.”

You bite your knuckle before resting your chin on your fist.

‘STOP. FUCKING. TALKING.’

Viktor licks his lips with a small grin while he allows his fingers to release their hold on the leather strap—seeming to understand that he just short-circuited your brain. “I actually brought you something too.”

“Y—you did?”

“Yes. But I think there’s a better way to enjoy it than what I originally had in mind…”

Your confusion only fuels Viktor’s mischievous expression as he continues walking with you by the river. He starts to better take in his surroundings, scanning the area and then the water. You’ve both gotten pretty far away from the city so you’re not sure what he could be looking for out here.

“I’m intrigued.” You bite your lip as you glance around with him. “What are you doing?”

“Checking to see if the coast is clear. Keep an eye out?”

You turn around to watch the land as he walks down towards the water. “For what? What am I even looking for?”

“People—just make sure no one can see us.”

Surprised and puzzled by his words, your brows rise like the heat rushing from your neck into your ears. Your breath picks up as your imagination runs wild with the possibilities of what this is going to lead to. “What…don’t we want them to see?”

“This.”

The sound of water sloshing disrupts the quiet and you turn to find Viktor tugging a small boat closer to the dock. Your eyes widen as you take in the sight, your jaw slack in disbelief.

“What do you mean this, what are you doing?!” You half whisper, half yell while he looks completely at ease committing grand theft auto.

“Seeing where the night takes us!” Viktor half whispers, half shouts back as he shrugs his pack into the boat. “You said that sounded good!”

“I thought that meant getting a cheap room at an inn, not committing a felony!”

“A cheap room?” There’s a definite stillness in the air now. He looks over at you and your face turns red when you see a sly grin cross his lips. “For what?”

“…Talking.”

“Mm.” His brows cock as he tips his head up, clearly not buying it before humming again. “Mmhm.” He nods and glances back at the vessel, almost looking like he’s considering your option anyway…until he throws his cane into the boat.

“Oops. Now I have no choice.”

“Oops, my ass!” There’s not much you can do as you watch Viktor crouch down to get into the boat. The sound of him laughing quietly fills the air as you start to jog over to get into the goddamned thing with him.

After Viktor helps you climb in, you dig your feet into the dock and push off—sending you out a small distance until he hands you one of the paddles. “Have you done this before?” You ask as you take the wooden oar from him.

“Theft or rowing?”

“…How about both?”

“I’ve never rowed a boat before.” He shifts his gaze towards your arms as he puts his paddle in the water, keeping time with your strokes on the other side. “But we seem to be doing quite well, don’t you think?”

You contemplate the way he answered that question and your eyes widen at the man sitting across from you with a lopsided grin. “WHAT ELSE HAVE YOU STOLEN, VIKTOR?!”

“Shhh—hhfff—shh!” He can’t finish his attempt to quiet you as his shushing sounds get caught up into laughter while you yell at him. He’s unable to keep a straight face as he tries to bring a finger to his lips, making you laugh as well until you’re both cracking up at how ridiculous this entire situation is.

The two of you ease into paddling further out on the river and you finally settle down once you realize no one is missing this boat right now. Once you’re a good distance out from the shore, you both pull the oars back into the vessel so you can sit and drift for a while.

You catch Viktor rolling his wrist and your eyes lock momentarily, but neither of you speak about it. Instead, he moves to go through in his pack with a huff, sounding frustrated when you hear him mumble “It got dark so fast…”

“I think this is a fishing boat…” You start before you feel around under your seat, switching to Viktor’s when you come up empty. “There’s gotta be someth—here we go!” You pull a lantern out from under him along with a small box of waterproof matches.

Once lit, Viktor’s eyes are the first thing you notice. A mix of appreciation and admiration of your quick work that he verbalizes with a soft “Well done.” before he finally finds a couple of tin cups to hand over to you. “Precursors to your gift, as promised.”

“I like where this is going.” You grin as he digs deeper until he brandishes a green-tinted bottle. “Ooh. I love where this is going…is—is that gin?”

“Your favorite, right?”

“Yeah…how’d you—”

“Remy told me.” He holds his hand out, asking for one of the cups and starts to pour the liquor for you.

“Remy tells you my favorite drink, Landon tells you about my cooking habits…” Viktor doesn’t look up—only flashes a wily grin at your accusation.

“You heard about that, eh?” His smile softens as he hands off the now full cup, you trade him for the empty one so he can pour himself one as well.

“Did you know they put bets on us going out?”

He looks up with his brows raised and shakes his head, seemingly still amused. “No, but I imagine Landon won.”

“He did. Free brunch.” Lazily, you swirl the liquor in your cup as the lantern’s dim light highlights the edges of Viktor’s high cheekbones. Your gaze shifts to the water to distract your urge to trace his jawline with your fingertips.

“High stakes to be sure.” He goes to cork the glass until you notice how full it is.

“That a new bottle?” You nod at the gin and Viktor pauses, glancing at the drink then back to you.

“Yes…why?”

“We have this tradition-turned-ghost-story where if you don’t pour one out from a new bottle, it’s bad luck.”

“Are you superstitious?” His eyes flicker playfully under the light of small flame, catching the flecks of gold and amber in his irises and only furthering the certainty in your voice.

“I know my father’s ghost would have no qualms capsizing the fuck out of this boat given the opportunity.”

“So, we pour one out not in memoriam, but to appease your father’s spirit?”

“Angry spirit. He died mad at me.” You raise your brows towards the bottle and dip your head down. “Unless you wanna test our luck even further tonight.”

“No. No, I don’t want that.” He chuckles, tipping the bottle over the edge of the boat until the liquid meets the water with a small trickle. He looks over the side and pulls the gin back, corking it as he watches the water. “I hope I didn’t just kill a school of fish with that.”

“Pour one out for them too.”

Viktor’s eyes go wide as he slowly turns his head towards you, fraught with both disbelief and good humor.

“Sorry, cheers.” You tip your cup to his, making him shift his gaze to his drink and break his disturbed expression when a breathy laugh leaves him.

“Yes, cheers.”

A small “Mm.” escapes you as the cold drink sends liquid heat down your chest. Your eyes fall shut as you enjoy how notes of juniper and coriander flood your senses. He brought really good gin.

“I hope that was a sound of approval?”

“More than approval, this is divine.”

“Mm…that’s good to know.”

His voice dips, sultry and smooth like the liquor lingering on your palate. You struggle to believe that he’s referring to the quality of the gin and open your eyes to find him looking completely content.

“Wh—what’s good to know?”

Viktor takes a sip, eyeing you carefully with a slow arch of his brows and equally slow shrug of his shoulders.

His silence leaves just enough room for interpretation to drive you mad and your hesitance to respond is met with a change in subject. “Is this your first time on a boat?”

“…Yes.” You answer through a held breath. “Is this your first act of piracy?”

“It’s not piracy if we’re borrowing it.”

“Sounds like something a pirate would say.”

Hours pass like minutes as you both float with the current. Formalities fall away as cups are traded for the two of you taking swigs straight from the bottle in between your laughter and lighthearted conversations.

Viktor spreads out bit by bit as the night goes on—one leg stretching on the outside of yours, slightly bumping against your calf when he laughs or moves to hand off the gin. You’re not sure if he notices or is aware of the contact, but you’re not complaining in the slightest.

You sit comfortably with your elbows perched on your knees, leaning forward to offer him the bottle and briefly exchanging glances when your fingertips brush against one another’s.

His arm leans casually on the side of the boat, tipping and rolling the bottle around as both of you muse over designing a robot that could help with all of Runterra’s problems.

…Sort of.

“Like a drinking buddy that wouldn’t let us get too blitzed like last time…and could crank up that boat for us too.” Your aspirations are nothing shy of a hot mess right now.

“I’m proposing something along the lines of a golem that provides more of an environmental impact with the capacity to rebui—”

“Blitzcrank.”

“What?”

You don’t mean to cut him off, but your filter is starting to wane with each pass of the liquor bottle. “That’s what I would name him. A responsible drinking buddy that help cranks the boat.”

“Blitzcrank.” Viktor chuckles softly before arching a brow with a tilt of his head. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.” He takes a small sip, holding eye contact with you before leaning forward to pass the bottle back. “We could probably use him right now.”

“Hah. Maybe so.”

A breeze picks up and the corner of your mouth curls when Viktor’s hair gets swept up in it. Nimble fingers weave through dark locks, pushing them back out of his eyes that study you so meticulously.

It doesn’t take long for you to get lost in the haze of his golden-amber while he watches the way your lower lip rests against the mouth of the bottle. Gaze flipping eagerly to your Adam’s apple when you swallow and back to your eyes when you offer the drink back.

“Not to be a…y’know, bartender…but your eyes sort of remind me of whiskey.”

Viktor pauses, seemingly surprised by your observation when he picks up the gin. “Is that so?” Curiosity plagues his grin as his lips graze the mouth of the bottle when he speaks.

You nod slowly, watching him carefully as you become increasingly more envious of the bottle he’s sipping from.

“What kind of whiskey?”

He holds onto the gin and leans forward as you study his irises, a perfect blend of cloudy and bright as the effects of alcohol feud with his desire for more details.

“For the color…I’d say a bourbon.” When you tilt your head to get a better look, the fire from the lantern dances frantically with gilded gold, shifting your standpoint just slightly. “Mm…one with honey in it.” You conclude, pleased when you see color begin to warm his cheeks.

You watch as he fidgets with the bottle, expression inquisitive while he takes in your every word as you continue. “But the intensity—”

Your attention shifts when you look down to find his knee is now pressed just inside of your own, the bottle dangling lazily in his grip as he lifts it up for you. When his fingers brush yours he lets them remain for a second longer while his eyes burn wildly under heavy brows.

“Intensity?” He smirks playfully, rolling his thumb over your fingertips that immediately shoots fire up your arm before letting go. You bite your lip trying to hang onto your composure before he encourages you to continue. “Go on…”

He watches you with interest as you cork and set the bottle down, even though you’re mentally clinging to it for the rest of your courage as the conversation becomes less and less about whiskey.

“The intensity is more like a rye...” Silence fills the air, making it impossible to not feel your heart pounding in your ears while he considers that comparison.

Viktor leans further towards you, head slightly tilted down as his words drip low and slow. “What makes rye so much more…” A subtle grin barely parts his lips, eyes scanning you up and down quickly before he finishes his question. “Mm…intense?”

You swallow your nerves as you start to move closer—his leg now nested in between yours while he rests his hand on the inside of your knee. Fingertips beckoning you towards him one-by-one, inch-by-inch with the lightest touch as they slowly tug and trail along your leg.

“It was the first drink we had together—you don’t remember?” You grin, thinking about how his eyes fell shut while he basked in the heat of the sage-infused rye you shared at The Last Drop.

His own grin grows slyer by the second. You feel his fingers spread out on your leg and you inhale sharply. When you catch Viktor licking his lips, the corner of your mouth quirks up as you take the subtle cue to lean even closer.

“Hmm…remind me.” His tone teases as he slides his hand just slightly higher, feather-light touches slowly undoing you with each passing second.

“You just wanna to hear me say it.”

It comes out as a sigh as slender fingers trail back down your leg. Your lips remain parted as you watch how his hand moves along your thigh before glancing back up when he responds.

“Yes, I do.”

His answer matches the same breathiness as yours when you trail your fingers over the back of his hand, testing to see if you could have the same impact on him, smiling wider when you find that you do.

When his eyes lock with yours, you feel heat surge and scorch through every fiber in your being; in your hands, your chest, all the way down, everywhere. Solidifying the very sensation that you attempt to explain even though your heart all but stops when you see him reflexively look at your lips.

“The intensity is the heat. The fire that follows each sip.” You pause before switching your wording. “The fire…that courses through me with the smallest glance. It bur—...you burn me up entirely.”

Gleaming gold becomes as heavy as lead under brows that rise slowly with each word. An inhale through his mouth replacing any thought he was about to convey, his actions speaking for him instead.

Slowly, meticulously. Viktor moves his hand to your cheek, the rough pad of his thumb leisurely tracing the thin scar there while his fingers splay against your neck. The cold breeze that has been biting at your face immediately subsides as you revel in soothing contact from calloused hands.

You sigh quietly as you begin to let your guard down. Walls you’ve built over the years crumbling to pieces within mere moments. Expression softening as you timidly turn your head into his touch, lightly pressing your lips to the bottom of his palm and enjoying the small gasp that escapes him.

Viktor doesn’t take his eyes off of you while you softly press another small kiss to his inner wrist, his gaze clouded and lips parted all the while. “Do you…know why I stole this boat tonight?” He manages to breathe out.

You smirk against his skin, lower lip barely brushing against him as you answer. “You have a moral deficiency?”

“Other than that.” With a smug grin of his own, Viktor carefully drags his thumb down your cheek until he slowly tugs at your bottom lip—parting it gently, testing the waters and drinking in your reactions.

The similarities are uncanny and for a moment you’re brought back to the dream you had about him—the way he dragged your lips open slowly before asking if you wanted to take him in entirely. The way he filled your mouth completely when you were on your knees for him.

Your heart rate quickens and you fight every fiber in your being to not think about the way his voice dipped when he called you a ‘good boy’.

…Or think about what it would sound like if he said it now.

You’re snapped back into reality when he curls his fingers under your chin, tentatively using the side of his index to tip your head up towards him. The very touch you envied—craved when he was inspecting the tobacco plant—was even more intoxicating than you had thought possible.

The way his gaze remains as warm and calculated as the hand that’s holding you.

The switch of his focus back and forth from your eyes to your lips.

The subtle twitch of muscle in his leg against yours when you wet your lips and accidentally graze his thumb with the tip of your tongue.

It’s all too much.

Eyelids fall heavy and breathing becomes labored. His ragged breaths meet yours in small huffs that fog the air. Air that grows thick with anticipation when you hear Viktor shift in his seat to lean forward, tilting his head to the side as he pulls you closer to him.

You move your weight forward to reach across and rest your hand on his hip. The boat wobbles at the sudden imbalance and you feel Viktor’s other hand grab onto to your holster to hold you steady.

A second passes as you regain your balance.

Another when you look down to find deft fingers clutching onto the leather across your chest.

Then time stops completely.

You’re not sure who moved first. If it was Viktor pulling you onto him by your holster, or if it was you nudging his legs apart so you could close the gap and kiss him.

It didn’t matter.

What mattered was for a moment, you both believed that physics could wait…when it absolutely couldn’t.

The boat rocks violently with your quick movements, knocking you both off balance and backwards onto the floor before hosing you down with freezing river water that sloshes over the side.

The two of you groan for all the wrong reasons as all of the heat that has built up is completely doused. Drenched clothing becomes icy in an instant, sending chills throughout your entire body as the temperature outside drops more and more with each gust of wind.

When you look over to Viktor, he’s no better off than you as he attempts to wring out the bottom of his jacket.

“I’m sorry—” “—didn’t mean to—”

“What were y—” “Sorry wha—”

You fumble around with incomplete thoughts as you pull yourselves up off the floor, carefully trying to keep the small vessel from thrashing around with each movement.

“We should ehh…” Viktor reaches for a paddle and holds it out for you. “…probably get back to land, yes?”

“Oh uh—” While it made sense given the temperature, part of you was still reeling from what had just transpired and your stomach drops a little while you wonder if you just ruined the rest of the night. “Yeah…yeah. Good call.” You take the oar from him and look at the buildings around you. “You uhh…have any idea where we are?”

Viktor places his paddle in the water and starts to row with you. “Actually…no I don’t.”

The ride back is quiet, unnervingly quiet. Your thoughts spiral with confusion and frustration as you try to understand your current situation.

‘He looked like he wanted to…like he was going to…’

You bite your lip thinking about what it would’ve felt like to kiss him had you not dunked him like a demi-god in the River Pilt.

Subtly, you try to sneak a glance up at Viktor as you paddle, trying to read him if possible. However, his focus is fixed on trying to recognize the buildings around you—likely looking for another dock which only furthers your inner turmoil.

‘…But then again, I practically tackled him. How the fuck did that even happen? He probably thinks I’m some desperate, touch-starved, sex-crazed, fiend now. Maybe that’s why he isn’t looking up or talking to me right now…’

The mind can be an amazing thing when an embarrassing moment is followed by over 15 minutes of silence. By the time you make it to a new dock you’ve all but convinced yourself that you’ve probably fucked up this night to the point of no return.

Viktor gets out first and you hand him his backpack before moving to stand up. He holds his hand out and you hand him the bottle.

“Not the gin, give me your hand.” He whispers with a small smile. As tempting as his help is, you can’t bring yourself to touch him again after everything you just put him through.

“Save the gin, I’ll be fine.”

“The gin is the reason we’re not fine.” You hear him grunt under his breath before reluctantly taking the bottle.

You move to step onto the dock and have never regretted drinking more in your entire life.

He’s right. The gin is definitely the reason that you are not fine.

Once you stand you lose your footing—causing the boat to rock, for you to overcorrect, and for recovery to be futile as the entire cosmos spins ruthlessly around you.

Not only do you fall in, but you take the entire boat with you as it flips over.

The chill of the water causes your muscles to tighten but otherwise the steady descent downwards is peaceful. For a moment you consider allowing yourself to drown after you turn your head to see the boat sinking next to you.

Something about the captain goes down with his ship, right? But in reality, you didn’t want to resurface and face Viktor after this.

After all of this.

While you contemplate how the fuck your barely drunk ass is sinking in the river, you can make out a muffled sound of screaming from above the surface and look up. It almost sounds like your name.

…oh shit it is your name.

Viktor is shouting for you.

You look back over as the boat continues to drop deeper and begrudgingly decide not to join it in this half-frozen hellscape as you start to swim back up to the surface.

When you pop your head up you see Viktor looking completely panicked…and half naked. His shirt and jacket are dropped haphazardly across the dock and you notice his pants are unzipped as well.

If you weren’t freezing your balls off you would’ve looked longer, but swimming up to the dock and pulling yourself up out of the freezing cold water unfortunately took precedent.

“What’s w—with the wardrobe malfunction, you trying to go s—ss—skinny dipping?” Slender hands grab ahold of your torso to help hoist you up out of the water until you flop onto the dock with a wet thud.

“I thought you got stuck under the boat and couldn’t get out.” Viktor’s uneven breathing catches, hissing when some of the water comes off of you and onto his bare chest.

“You were going to jump in after—?” You start to roll onto your side to look at him but he cuts you off as hurries to throw his shirt back on.

“We need to go. Especially now that our petty theft has escalated into…” Viktor’s brows raise slowly as bubbles gurgle up. Audible evidence of the boat is finding its way to the bottom of the river. “Ehh…full-on vandalism.”

“Not to mention the impending hypothermia.” You strain a response while you push yourself up off of the dock and he finishes getting dressed.

“Let’s find some shelter so that doesn’t happen, yes?” Viktor hands the gin back over to you with an apologetic look. “Maybe the boat wasn’t a better way to enjoy this after all...”

You glance at the bottle before taking it from him, shaking your head and grinning when you look back up. “I disagree. That was the most fun I’ve had in years.”

Viktor’s voice comes out smaller than usual behind a coy smile. His demeanor almost timid when he picks his eyes back up to meet yours before answering.

“Me too.”

The temperature drops more and more while you both try to figure out where you are in the undercity. You’re grateful Viktor still had your jacket in his pack and manage to ditch your shirt for one dry layer, but it’s not doing much—you’re freezing and need to get out of the cold.

You continue to take swigs out of the bottle to stay warm until Viktor manages to find an inn. He glances at you over his shoulder with a small smirk.

“I guess you’ll get that cheap room you wanted after all.”

You had hoped that he forgot about that comment earlier, but still chuckle when you make your way to the door with him.

“I uh…I didn’t mean for that to come across that way.” You try to cover your tracks to avoid embarrassment and take one last sip of your liquid courage, nearly choking on it when he answers.

“Ah. That’s a shame.” Viktor turns his head as he walks inside, revealing a clever grin while he holds the door for you as you follow. “I was looking forward to talking with you.”

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A/N: Date night is officially 3 parts now because I'm a monster ;_;

But hopefully this was a good one and read okay despite all the altered mental states ayyeee. Next chapter will have some warnings, not starting off super crazy but it will likely be 18+ again so I'm excited to dip back into that style :)

The next update will not take this long again, should be back to 1-2 week updates again as long as my life doesn't explode again :'D

#viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #viktor fanfiction #arcane fanfic #viktor arcane #viktor #that salty ghost fic #as above so below fic

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