#how viktor would respond though is the question

[googlemooglemadi]

ੈ✩ 𝑯𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒚, 𝒀𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝑭𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒓 ˖°࿐

❛ 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕗𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕠𝕟 𝕞𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥. ❜

One second, Viktor’s coffee was on the table. The next, it was a dark brown puddle on the floor, and Jayce was staring down at him with a look that could only be compared to a puppy who’s just been caught digging a hole in the garden.

“Shit, dude, I’m so sorry!” He exclaimed, and moments later, he scrambled to grab napkins from the dispenser on the counter. 

Viktor, frozen in his seat, was unable to formulate a response outside of gaping like a fish out of water. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before settling on a quiet, “Oh, it’s – it’s fine.” He shut his laptop and tucked it into his bag, standing up and reaching for his crutch.

Jayce was quick to wave him off, still looking almost comically guilty. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ve got it. Look, I can pay you back for the coffee, or –”

“It’s alright.” Viktor assured with a shake of his head, picking up the sopping-wet napkins from his table and tossing them into the trash can. He leaned against his crutch, looking down at the man crouched on the floor. This was just his luck, wasn’t it? The same man who was causing every single one of his crises at the moment, putting him in a situation where he had no choice but to carry on a conversation with him.

Jayce looked like he wanted to insist, but Viktor’s stubborn glare left no room for argument. He huffed a little, clearly frustrated, and returned to scrubbing the floor clean. He stood and dropped the rest of the napkins into the trash bin, rubbing the back of his neck with an awkward laugh.

“Sorry again,” Jayce said, offering a hand to Viktor. “I’m Jayce.”

“Really, it’s fine,” Viktor insisted. He was still rooted to the floor, unable to come up with anything to say. He was pretty sure this was his worst nightmare. He forced himself to nod dumbly as the man introduced himself, taking Jayce’s hand and shaking it weakly. “Viktor.”

The grin on Jayce’s face could best be described as dopey, and Viktor hated how much it made his heart race. “Cool. You’re in my physics class, right? I’m about to head that way if you, uh… want to join me.”

Viktor blinked a few times, more than a little caught off-guard. He usually walked to his classes alone, but his first instinct was to agree. Jayce was already slinging his backpack over his shoulder, preparing to leave, and Viktor mumbled a barely-audible “sure” before he could manage to talk himself out of it.

Jayce was, as he’d expected, nothing short of a chatterbox. His excited rambling seemed to stem from a fear of any sort of awkward silence, and surprisingly, Viktor found himself not minding it. He couldn’t tell if he was feeling so tense because he’d become comfortable in his solitude, or because the familiarity of his dreams lingered at the back of his mind.

It took a while until there was a lull in the (rather one-sided) conversation about Jayce’s homework, and Viktor finally worked up the courage to ask some questions. “So, what are you majoring in?”

“Mechanical engineering,” Jayce responded, casting a sidelong glance at the shorter man beside him. “You?”

“Chemical engineering.”

Jayce hummed in acknowledgement, running a hand through his hair. The silence between them lingered for a long moment before he spoke up again. “Did you grow up in Piltover?”

“Zaun.” Viktor responded curtly. Usually, the mention of Piltover’s dilapidated sister city alone was enough to make anyone from the upper-class region want to switch topics. Jayce didn’t seem to follow this trend, but it was clear that he was unsure of how to respond – Viktor wasn’t surprised.

“Oh. That’s… neat. Do you have any siblings?”

As frustrating as it was, Viktor didn’t mind the subject change. He’d rather not deal with the awkwardness that would come from discussing Piltover and Zaun’s deep divide. “None. Do you?”

“Nah,” Jayce answered, shaking his head. He kept stealing glances to the side, and though Viktor could tell he was attempting to be subtle, he was anything but. “It’s always just been me and my mom.”

Viktor couldn’t help it; he found himself curious as to what Jayce’s family dynamic was like. He wanted to ask questions, to find out why he had only grown up with his mother, but the last thing he wanted was to push the man away so soon. So he nodded instead, reaching up with his free hand to brush a lock of hair off of his forehead.

As they approached the front doors of the building, Viktor shifted his crutch to reach out for the heavy glass door. Jayce beat him to it, though, pulling the door handle and propping it open with his foot. “I’ve got it.”

Viktor nodded gratefully, murmuring a quiet “thanks” to Jayce as he stepped into the hallway. He was thankful to see no trace of pity – something he’d grown contemptuously familiar with throughout his life – in Jayce’s gaze.

The door slammed shut behind them, cutting through the sudden silence that had fallen. They reached the lecture hall, and Viktor was fully prepared for their short conversation to end with a goodbye; if he was honest with himself, he wouldn’t be shocked if they never spoke again. However, when he headed for his usual spot in the back row, Jayce trailed behind him and dropped his things in the space next to him.

Viktor cast a sidelong glance at him with a raised eyebrow as he sat down, but he looked away before Jayce could catch his confused expression. He didn’t mind having Jayce next to him, of course, but he couldn’t deny the fact that all he needed at the moment was some space to think. 

His mind was foggy with déjà vu. The feeling of Jayce’s body next to his, combined with the infuriatingly familiar sound of his pen scratching against the paper of his notebook, created a tight sensation in his chest that he’d only ever experienced when waking up from his dreams about the lab.

Selfishly, though, Viktor almost wished his nighttimes weren’t plagued by Jayce or their shared lab anymore. Yes, part of him wanted to get to the bottom of why he felt like he’d lived lifetimes with Jayce while only knowing him for a total of… what, twenty minutes now? The other part of him, though, longed to get to know Jayce as if they were complete strangers.

He huffed as he opened up his laptop, propping his chin in the palm of his hand. If this was what physics was going to be like from now on, he wasn’t sure how he was going to survive it.

guys this is not a drill! the gays are finally interacting!!

on another note i am a big fat liar. i said this would be up by this weekend, but... i was really busy yesterday 😞

i haven't said anything like this yet because i didn't want to sound desperate but i actually am desperate (/j) so please don't be afraid to leave comments!! i love reading them!

credits to @cafekitsune for the dividers!

---

@frog-fans-unite

[lesbianherald]

Jayce the typa guy to give Viktor a card that says to me you are hexceptional

...... yeah. no notes. just yeah...

[honey-pages]

Quick and Quiet - Viktor x Reader

Description -

Quick public sex in a spare room in the lab, possessive Viktor.

1.1k words

F/M. 18+. Smut. NSFW. Dom Viktor. Posessive. Dirty Talk. Creampie.

It was the middle of the afternoon on a weekday, the lab and research centre full swing. You and Viktor had been overseeing some minor work that needed doing but nothing too pressing. It was a regular day, people busying past with arms loaded with paper work, inattentive to the growing sexual tension between the two of you. 

You knew that when you got back to his study, things would unfold. You decide to tease him, its only fair that he has to be just as frustrated as you are. You spot an empty room off to the side of one of the main corridors, and nudge him towards the door as you approach.

Viktor looks at you strangely, questioning what you are doing, before catching on.

He chuckles subtly, “Oh really?”

He pushes the door open with his hand and you both quickly step inside, closing it behind you and manoeuvring out of view. He pins you to the wall, his arms on either side of your head. He leans down to kiss you, moving backwards at the last second to make you kiss at the open air.

“Desperate” He mocks, this time allowing the kiss. 

“Maybe I just want you Vik” You smile up at him

“Right here?”

“Right here”

Viktor’s hand trails down the side of your body, feeling you, weighing up the consequences of getting caught. He stops over your waist, lowering to grope at your underwear through your clothes. He presses at your clit, applying just the right amount to have you reactively grinding at his hand.

“You want me to fuck you here, where anyone could hear us?”

You respond by pulling him back into a kiss. Viktor breaks it, turning you around and pinning your hips to a table. You were only just out of view of the door, too close.

“Quietly”, Viktor purred in your ear. 

“People will see Vik-“

“They’ll hear first”

You feel the length of him rest at the side of your thigh. He presses himself to the back of you. He holds one hand on your hip and the other on the edge of the table he has you pressed against. 

“You say the words, and I stop. Though I can guarantee someone else will hear them first”

“Don’t stop-“

He muffles your mouth with his hand, having heard all he needed. He bends you at the waist, positioning you over the table. Viktor keeps his mouth at your neck, faintly whispering to you, almost inaudible, breathy.

“Keep quiet and take it.”

Viktor slides your trousers down your thighs, allowing them to pool around your knees. He works his fingers under the hem of your underwear, pulling them down. You feel exposed, realising your nakedness and proximity to the door. If someone would look through, you would not be hidden fully. It would be obvious at first sight. They would know exactly what you and Viktor were doing. 

He unzips and manages his trousers and underwear down to his mid thigh. There is a growing warmth as you feel his cock rest against you. He grinds it on you slowly, reminding you of the familiar length and feel. The heat of him in the cold room makes you more aware of the warmth of yourself and how when you shift your weight, you could feel the wetness slide between your thighs. 

“I didn’t realise you so publicly wanted to be my whore, (Y/N)”

You grind back, his cock pressing against you, a little higher and he may just push in. He lines himself up.

“So eager” He nibbles at your ear, the hand covering your mouth spreading to insert a finger between your lips and against your tongue. 

You swirl your tongue over the tip and he grinds forward, thrusting into you to the middle of his length. You moan against his palm.

There are footsteps from outside as people walk further down the corridor, it feels too good to care.

Viktor slowly thrusts in and out of you, though not deeply. You are completely aware of how deep he usually is, how he normally fills you. You groan in frustration, trying to push back, to make him fill you.

He stops moving, you feel his grin against your skin, his teeth against your neck

“If I knew it was this easy to take you, I would have done this years ago. All it takes is a little bit of danger, and listen to the sound you make”

Viktor pulls all the way out, and pushes all the way in, creating a wet slapping sound. You body is betraying you, dripping wetness down your thigh. Viktor removes his hand from your mouth and you make a silent promise to not give away your location. 

His hand replaces at the back of your neck and he pushes you gently down to the table, bent completely over it. He grips at your waist. His thrusts become more rhythmic, the sounds of the two of you become repetitive and he finds a comfortable pace. 

“You feel amazing, (Y/N). This is mine, you understand?”

“Yes, Vik-“ You respond, trying to keep a grip on your sound level.

He is speeding up, the noise must be audible to the outside. He is panting and whimpering, grabbing at the sides of you.

"Mine?”

“Yours”

“You belong-“ He starts, losing himself in the pleasure “-to me”

“Viktor-“

“Shh-“

You feel wetter than previously. The table was rough and sharp at your waist but you didn’t care. You didn’t care about anything, you looked around to the door window - no one was there. Would you really have cared if they were? If they watched the way Viktor fucked you?

Your hands are holding onto the far side of the table, fingers white from the force of his thrusts. He buries a hand in your hair, pulling back your neck, forcing your head upwards, tilting to watch him over your shoulder. 

“You’re mine.” He mumbles as he fucks hard and fast.

“They’ll hear-“ You try to protest, a blush rising.

“Then they’ll hear me cum in you” 

His hips are wild, he’s filling you deeply. He is slowing slightly, becoming more powerful in each swing. You feel him twitch and he begins to unravel.

“You’re-“ He manages, louder than he should have.

On his next thrust, you feel him filling you with thick cum, still grinding and pushing between spasms. He maintains his rhythm, coating the whole length of your insides, fucking it into you. 

“Im yours Viktor” You finish his sentence, barely able to string it together.

The footsteps return, closer, faster. 

You both look wide-eyed pulling up your clothes and fixing your appearances, damp with a sheen of sweat and a manic look. The gravity of what you just did has struck. Viktor is still catching his breath. You feel the mess he has made begin to seep into the fabric of your underwear. 

You both make a quick exit, red faced, heading straight for Viktor’s study.

Tag List - @veru-boom, @gubkkki, @hi-hope-hop-in, @gloriousevolutionz.

[seancekitsch]

BONNIE YOUR THREESOMES ARE PEAK PLEASE WRITE JAYVIK X READER PLEASE

hehehehe this was more involved than i thought it would be

summary: you and viktor get bored and jealous at a gala, threesome ensues after

m/m/f, dom!vik, switch! mostly sub reader, sub! jayce, smut, hehehehe

“I hate these things,” you say, but you always get dressed to the nines whenever there’s a gala, not a hair out of place and the fanciest gowns that otherwise rot in the background of your closet. You always make sure you look your best for your men at these things.

“I hate these things,” Viktor says, but he never fails to pull you onto his lap when he’s sure no one is looking. He always presses long kisses into your exposed skin that leave you flustered and giggly. He always makes sure you’re taken care of and more than flirted with when you go to a gala.

“I hate this,” you’ll say halfway through the night, angrily picking at your nails between glasses of champagne as you watch Jayce be hit on by yet another investor, “Must we pimp him out?”

“I hate it too,” Viktor agrees, but he doesn’t answer your question. You both know what this is, a necessity that brews a vicious anger in your gut. Jealousy and possessiveness brew like a venom as the two of you eat caviar and french fries on the outskirts of a ballroom. Viktor keeps an eye on your scowl as he leans on the table.

“I’m mad,” you’ll pout, when you can finally tug on Jayce’s jacket and pull him near, “You’re ours.”

He’ll just laugh and urge you to finish your last champagne glass before the carriage arrives.

He throws his jacket over you as Viktor’s free arm comes around your waist. To any bystander, it looks as if the two inventors are holding up a drunk girl. In reality, they can’t keep their hands off of you.

You’re thankful the carriage driver is discreet, with noise you’re making. Viktor actively holds your top half, your chest haphazardly thrown over his as he keeps you in place. Viktor messes up your hair, pushing it all away from your face. Jayce is relentless, bordering on mean with his teasing. His too warm hands dance around your inner thighs and drag along your skin. He’s long since discarded your panties and shoved them into his pocket as he kneels on the floor of the carriage and grins up at you in the moonlight.

“Jayce, please,” You beg.

“Are you kidding?” is how he responds, his voice low and harsh, “don’t think I didn’t see the show you were putting on with Vik.”

You smile sheepishly, and look up to where a dark purple spot blooms on the man’s throat.

“You were pretty mean to tease him like that,” Viktor says, and you realize there will be no orders for mercy in this carriage for you.

The walk from the carriage to the elevator is a struggle, your legs feeling like jelly from all of Jayce’s teasing and touching as the men crowd on either side of you. Jayce lifts you as the elevator doors open, one of his hands grabbing not so subtly at your ass. This is where it gets risky, as anyone after hours could blow the little cover your trio has. 

The mood shifts as the elevator doors close, and your feet touch the ground as you both look to Viktor. Always, you and Jayce look to Viktor. Jayce holds you close, his arms caging you in. Viktor leans against the wall of the lift, his hand unbuttoning his waistcoat as he smiles at the two of you. 

“You made her upset at the gala,” he states simply, looking up at the taller man, “Let’s make sure she feels loved enough to not complain so much next time.” 

Anticipation swells in your chest, excitement having you ready to tear at their clothes right here and now, though you don’t move an inch. 

Ironic though, that Viktor brings up your jealousy. As if he himself does not have an essay worth of complaints when he himself feels that way. As if he is not the biggest complainer in Zaun and Piltover combined. You voice none of that though.

Only a small whispered “Thank you, V,” leaves your lips.

“Touch her,” comes Victor’s voice from the couch, and instantly warm hands are upon you. Jayce gropes from your hips to your chest and back again, his warm fingers leaving a blazing train in their wake, wildfires breaking out upon your skin under his touch. 

“So pretty,” Jayce breathes, his voice strained and breathy as he kisses along your shoulder. Jayce pushes the top of your dress from your shoulders, and then upon seemingly discovering the buttons along your back, his hands become laser focused on those. 

“You both are,” Viktor sighs, his hand palming over his crotch as he watches you with a predatory stare, “Get her naked, please.”

Jayce obeys, sweet obedient Jayce. His fingers find themselves spinning you around, immediately working the line down your spine. His big fingers are nimble, rapidly pulling the extremely delicate buttons apart with ease without ripping a singe one of them. His hands travel down your spine, your body reacting in turn with shuddering gasps, until he reaches the cleft of your ass where the buttons finally stop. This is when Jayce urges you to stand straight, pushing your dress down to the point where it falls down your ass and legs, leaving you bare for them spare your heels.

Jayce’s warm hands are on you, caressing your chest and squeezing your hips.

“Is it.. good? The heels aren’t too much?” You ask, their lack of immediate verbal praise making your skin prickle in a way you don’t like. 

“More than good,” Viktor scoffs, then orders “Come here.”

Without another thought, you sink to your knees immediately. Viktor’s wish is your command. 

You shuffle forward until you’re between Viktor’s knees, his brace undone and his pants already unbuttoned and waiting for you. You push both down with care, actively pulling his brace down his leg gently to make sure that it’s not bumped in any way on the way down. It’s not unsexy, the way you remove the brace is the same way you’d remove any piece of clothing, just another thing on the journey to unwrapping him like a present. And he is a present to you tonight, most of your time with Viktor hurried in the lab and mostly clothed. The time and space to actually see him bare is a rare thing for you. You take the time to take his pants with it, each inch of revealed skin met with kisses. Lipstick meets the insides of pale knees, up pale thighs, exaggerating the punctuation of the moles on his legs. 

You look up at him expectantly, as if for instruction.

“My love, what?” he ask, a chuckle in his tone as he grasps the back of your head, “you know what to do.”

With that he gently leads your head down, your lips parting to catch the head of his cock between them.  You waste no time sinking your mouth down onto him, only stopping when he hits the back of your throat. Despite the fact that he does not fully fit in your mouth, you do not wrap your fingers around the base of his dick. That’s always been a quirk of Viktor’s, that he likes it with no hands. So one of your free hands sinks into the couch, the old worn cushion soft under your touch. Your other hand moves between your thighs, moving lazy circles with your middle two fingers over your clit. You moan at the contact, and Viktor shudders as your moan reverberates around him. He crooks a finger towards the other man, and Jayce comes forward to quickly capture Victor’s lips into a kiss. You stare up from your spot below, licking the underside of Viktor’s cockhead as you watch the two lock lips. Viktor is the first to deepen the kiss, his tongue diving past Jayce’s lips. They’re so beautiful, your men. You watch them hungrily as you bob your head up and down on Viktor’s length, your cheeks hollowing out around him. Your fingers speed up, and every few moments you allow your fingers to dip into yourself, not nearly enough and not what you want but it fuels the fire in your gut. You don’t hold back with your own moaning, letting them know how good you’re feeling right now. 

Viktor seems to notice the way your shoulder is moving, and pulls away from Jayce. Not too far, as his breath still tickles Jayce’s mustache. 

“You made our little Princezno very upset, Jayce,” Viktor tsks, “Look at how good she is being for us, and you make her so jealous?”

Jayce looks down, his eyes meeting yours. 

“I’m sorry, babe,” he tells you, and you hope he can see that you’re smiling even with Viktor’s dick down your throat. 

“Did you think that was enough?” Viktor asks, and one of his hands comes to your chin, gently pulling you off of him. You stretch and move your jaw, slightly sore from use. Viktor pulls you up, gesturing for you to lay in his lap. He does this when he needs a breather, when he gets himself a little too worked up too quickly. It’s almost an ego boost knowing you have that power over him, but not when it leaves him attempting to stifle a cough. You comply happily though, stretching out on your back so that your head rests mostly on his good leg, your hand lazily coming up to rub along the edge of his back brace. His still hard cock rests against his abdomen, close enough that you can kiss it when you turn your head, and you do. Your lips press a warm kiss where the base of his shaft meets his balls. 

“Look at her, she’s worked herself up so much,” There’s fake pity in his tone as Jayce moves to the other side of the ratty couch, “I think you should make it up to her.”

“I agree,” Jayce sighs as he kneels at the edge of the couch, his big hands propping up your hips for him and holding you still. Jayce’s breath fans out across your core, already dripping and ready for him. He smiles at you, and you want to run your tongue along the gap in his teeth. Jayce is so fucking handsome. You don’t know when he removed his jacket and shirt, but he hooks one of your legs over his bare shoulder before diving in. His tongue feels molten hot as he licks your cunt open, and he groans as he tastes you. A greedy slurp cuts through the air of the otherwise quiet lab, obscene and embarrassing as you throw your hands up to cover your face. 

“None of that,” Viktor chides you, gently prying your hands away, “If you must grab anything, grab Jayce. I want to see you.”

You comply, just as obedient as Jayce when it comes to Viktor. You nod and him as your hands tremble, fingers burying themselves in the hair that Jayce is trying to grow out. Jayce hums appreciatively against you at the contact. He returns to opening you with fervor, his tongue now focused solely on your clit. Jayce’s fingers tease your entrance, dipping into where you’ve already soaked and just barely breaching you, earning him breathy whines and whispered begging. 

“Jayce… need you,” you moan, frustrated tears already prickling at your eyes. He’s in a teasing mood tonight, his worst and most dangerous mood. If Viktor doesn’t call him off, you could be at this until dawn.

“Do you need us both?” Viktor asks, which you meet with nodding that jostle’s Viktor’s good leg. You look up at him, silently begging. He pouts mockingly at you, using one hand to wipe away a stray tear near your lashes. 

“Prep her,” he orders Jayce, not taking his eyes off of yours, “She needs us both, who are we to deny her?”

Jayce hums against your clit again, making you yelp. His fingers delve into you, scissoring you open and pressing deep. Finally, you think, finally. His fingers don’t stay long, just enough to soak them. Jayce pulls his fingers out and moves them lower. He circles the other hole, then slowly, ever so carefully, pushes one in. The adjustment is always a little painful, despite that you’re used to this by now. He’s slow to move, and works you open to take the second finger. 

“She tastes so good,” Jayce moans when he removes is mouth from you, only for a moment to catch his breath, “So so sweet.”

His fingers in your ass start to move a little faster as his lips reattach themselves to your clit, sucking hard on the little bud to make you yank on his hair. If there’s something Jayce likes, it’s a little pain. He fucks you on his hand until you see stars, each time you come close to ecstasy, he pulls back; maddening and near painful. He does this three times, each time has you whining and cursing and panting while Viktor holds your face still and whispers sweet praise to you. 

“You’re doing so well, look at how happy you’re making us, just once more.”

But his words mean little when you’re blinded with the need to cum, the need to make a mess for Jayce to lick up, to be sandwiched between the two of them and filled. 

“Can’t … fuck, ah… can’t do it anymore,” you plead, the tears starting to come more rapidly, a babbling brook becoming a stream. You twist nearly out of Viktor’s hold, your fingers going slack against Jayce’s scalp, and Viktor’s face goes stoic. 

“Jayce, stop!” he tells him, clear that you’ve been pushed a little too far. Jayce pulls back immediately, but doesn’t leave. Instead he wraps his arms around you, his head on your chest like a weighted blanket as he holds you. 

“I’m sorry, baby. Was I mean to you?” Jayce croons, but the way his hand envelops yours and squeezes tells you it’s a check-in. 

“A little,” you whimper, “I just wanted to fuck you… and cum.”

You add the last part with a little indignant joke in your tone. Truly, you could handle what he was doing on a normal night, but tonight, you just wanted your men and their attention. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats again, and then lifts his head up to Viktor, “You ready to go again?”

“I always was,” Viktor scoffs.

You sigh as you sink down onto Viktor’s length, the familiar stretch to accommodate him always pleasant. He smiles up at you from where he now lays on the couch, his good leg digging into the cushion to give him some leverage of his own, his own lips parted in his own clumsy sigh. You lean down to capture those lips in a kiss, a brief peck before you turn your head back to Jayce.

“You ready?” You ask him, beckoning him closer.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for something,” Jayce jokes, his knee pressing into the couch cushion between Viktor’s legs and yours. He drips some lube onto his shaft, until now neglected as some light unspoken attempt of a punishment. He remembers how you had rolled your eyes and made fun of him when he pointed out to you that he had even bought some lube to hide in one of his personal drawers in the space. Now, however, its half empty and every combination of the three of you have been more than happy to use it on more than one occasion. He gives his cock two pumps to smear the lube, then settles in behind you. Jayce runs hot, and his heat radiates across your back.

He lines himself up gently, and just as gently pushes into your other hole.

It takes everything in you not to scream and come at that very moment. You breath through your teeth, seething at the way you hold back as you adjust to the feeling, while familiar always an adjustment. Your panting breaks into a light airy chuckle as you move your hips, a small swivel and roll. Both of your men groan at the feeling. That’s their cue to begin. 

Viktor and Jayce are geniuses to begin with, but when it comes to your body they’re even more than that. They fall into opposite patterns, when Viktor is fully flush in you, Jayce is pulling back; When Viktor pulls you up from his lap, Jayce’s hips are flat against your ass. Viktor goes in, Jayce goes out, Jayce goes in, Viktor goes out. It’s maddening, and so damn quick to work you back up into a frenzy. 

“Fuck, Amazing,” Viktor pants, his head thrown back against the cushion as he tilts his hips up again into you, “You two spoil me.”

A breathy laugh leaves his lips as he continues his movement, his hands lazily tracing up Jayce’s biceps and down your waist. He smiles though youre sure he’s sore by now, something he’ll use as an excuse to have you and Jayce massage out and to cater to him and bring him a glass of sweetmilk and the little lemon loaf cake you had baked yesterday. Jayce doesn’t respond verbally, but speeds up the movement of his hips, double time to ease Viktor’s movements. He easily pushes you up and down on both of their cocks, the change in pace somehow even more divine than before. 

“Spoil you?” you gasp, your mouth hangs open as you struggle to moan between the two of them, your hands frantic and clumsy grasping at them both, yet not finding purchase or rooting anywhere. You find yourself, between the gasps and the moans, laughing too.

“I’m the fuckin’ spoiled one,” you tell them. Viktor’s hand leaves your waist, dropping down to rub circles on your clit. 

Almost instantly, you go rigid, the many orgasms Jayce had denied you crashing down upon you. The feeling makes it feel like you shatter, like your muscles are made of glass and you break in their embrace. 

“Ah, fuck fuck, shit,” Jayce curses as you tense up and shake between the two of them, “So tight.”

You moan, low and hoarse and drawn out as the two men cage you in, holding you tight between them. Viktor’s hands find your face, cupping your cheeks as he whispers praise to you. 

Heat floods you, Jayce finishing along with you, spilling into your ass with a harsh groan. He stills behind you, one of his big arms coming up from the couch to wrap around you and hug you tight, your sweaty spine colliding with his equally sweaty chest. 

“Fuck you guys are fantastic,” he whispers, his stubble and lips brushing clumsily against your shoulder as he speaks. Viktor still thrusts up into you, his movements slower now as the two of you still above him. He looks down to where his fingertips have left the faintest of bruises on your hips. Beautiful, and he knows you’ll wear them with pride. 

You start to shift on top of him, not quite meeting his lazier thrusting, but the friction is enough. Your mouth falls open, your eyes screwed shut as you keep going. You’re so good for them, with the way you’re clearly spent, all sluggish limbs and overstimulation, and still fucking yourself on him. 

Viktor finishes quietly, another flood of heat within you as he sighs and throws his head back against the cushion of the couch. His frame shudders, a full body shake beneath the both of you as bliss takes over. 

You start immediately to rub circles with your thumbs over Viktor’s shoulders, routine now as the three of you fall out of your haze, calm settling over you. Everything is still once more in the lab, the only noise your shared breathing and the hum of the generators. 

“Fuck,” you breathe out, laughter on your lips. Jayce starts kissing the back of your neck, a soothing balm to ease tense muscles as he gently pulls out. He moves slowly, feeling the trickle of his spend follow his exit. You groan as he moves away, standing up from the couch. 

“Come back,” you tell him, reaching out with one hand to try to beckon him back. 

“You need a washcloth,” Jayce laughs, stark naked and proud of the mess he leaves the two of you on the couch. He shuffles over to the little wash basin and care station the three of you had slowly built up over the years. He runs the tap for a little while, waiting for the warm water before he brings the cloth under the flow of the water. He looks back at the two of you, flashing a toothy smile thats blinding even in the darkness of the lab. 

“Braggadocios, is he not?” Viktor asks, a playful smirk on his tired face. 

“Terribly,” you respond, winking at him. 

“I can hear you two!” Jayce calls as he walks back over to the couch, “Conspiring against me?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you hum, but he knows thats a lie. 

He wouldn't have it any other way, though.

[kirammanswifey]

《Hearts Beyond Reason》

Viktor

writer's note: hello here, ican't explain how much i enjoyed writing this, i have a soft spot for viktor. btw, for those who don't know, this story came from one of my arcane imagines, here is the link in case you want to see the other scenarios, of which i will continue to upload little stories like these during the course of this week, tomorrow it's jinx's turn ;)

link:

warnings: kind of a smut, blowjob, praise kink, mature language, princess treatment for my man, pet names, and a little bit of fluff... just a little bit, we love sassy viktor, also, reader is a baddie.

The auditorium was filled, a sea of brilliant minds awaiting eagerly. Viktor, a renowned scientist specializing in artificial intelligence and robotics, approached the podium with a modest posture, though his reputation preceded any presentation. With his calm and precise voice, he explained how his latest research in biotechnology could revolutionize smart prosthetics.

From your seat, you took quick notes, constantly reviewing to ensure nothing slipped by, as everything coming out of his mouth was incredibly brilliant and unprecedented. You had covered many scientific conferences, but there was something in his approach, in his ability to balance technical complexity with humanity, that kept you intrigued. Maybe it was his distinct kind of Czech accent or the way his eyes drifted to the ceiling, avoiding focusing on the crowd in front of him. He was nervous; public speaking wasn’t his forte, you immediately realized, and you found it incredibly endearing.

When he finished, the room erupted in applause. Apparently, you weren’t the only one impressed. You wasted no time and rushed toward him, dodging other attendees as if in a Mario Kart race.

"Excuse me, Mr. Viktor," you said, adjusting your glasses and catching your breath. "I’m a journalist from The Innovator's Journal. Could I have a brief interview?"

Viktor turned toward you, assessing you with a probing gaze.

You met his eyes with a faint smile, your long lashes fluttering in a cautious flirtation. Subtle non-verbal manipulations you had learned over your career, because journalism wasn’t an easy job, especially not for women. Sometimes, you had to make use of certain physical attributes to draw the attention of interview subjects.

But Viktor didn’t react the way others did. He didn’t look beyond your face.

"For The Innovator’s Journal?" he asked, his accent soft yet distinct. You nodded, mesmerized, and he seemed to consider your request. "I generally don’t accept impromptu interviews, but you seem... determined."

You took a step closer, but without fully invading his personal space, just enough to better perceive his scent. His fragrance was an esoteric, almost magical blend—soft yet noticeable. If stars had a scent, it would surely smell like him.

"I know how to seize opportunities when I see them," you replied with a sharp smile, not fully showing your teeth, as if toying with the possibilities.

A flicker of what seemed like amusement crossed his gaze before he nodded.

"Five minutes," he said, leading you to a quieter corner.

You blinked quickly, not expecting such an ultimatum. However, you didn’t keep him waiting and pulled out your recorder. Clearing your throat to keep your voice steady, you began.

"Your research has been described as a bridge between biotechnology and humanity. Is that what you’re aiming for?"

Viktor slightly tilted his head, as if finding the question deeper than expected.

"I seek to close the gaps," he responded calmly. "Between human abilities and the opportunities that technology offers."

"But some critics argue that it could make people too dependent on machines. How do you respond to that?"

You were known for being controversial; you liked pushing people to their limits. You loved seeing their reactions and enjoyed tense environments. Maybe it was a bit machiavellian, but you didn’t mind, you saw it as part of your job.

His eyes narrowed slightly, not in anger but because he was thinking carefully.

"Dependency isn’t the problem, but how we use what we create. Tools are an extension of our abilities, not a replacement."

He knew what he was doing. He had answered with careful words—if he weren’t a scientist, he’d have had a brilliant career in politics. His response was decisive, but you were expecting more, so you decided to take a risk with something more personal.

"And you? How do you see yourself on this bridge between humanity and technology?"

You asked it clearly regarding his physical disability, as he still walked with a cane and hadn’t implanted one of his much-publicized smart prosthetics.

He paused for a moment before answering. His gaze drifted slightly to the room before returning to you.

"I suppose I’m someone who walks that bridge carefully. It’s a fragile balance, but it’s necessary."

The way his words resonated, heavy with a sort of melancholy, made you forget, for a moment, that you were supposed to be the journalist. There was something more to him, something not easily revealed.

When you finished, you stored your recorder and dared to smile at him again, this time without ulterior motives—a genuine smile.

"Thank you, Mr. Viktor. It was a fascinating conversation," you said, tempted to add that he was equally fascinating, but you refrained.

You didn’t want to scare him off. Viktor seemed like the type of man who didn’t have much female contact, you could easily tell by his physical discomfort. When he spoke with you, his body was tense, and he didn’t gesticulate much. He seemed more like a robot than a person.

"A pleasure, Miss," he responded with a slight nod.

There was a brief silence before you decided to take the next step.

"I must admit, I’m not only intrigued by your work but by you as well. Would you like to continue this conversation over dinner?"

You felt your heart race when that question escaped your lips. You hoped you hadn’t scared him off. It was the first time in a long while that a man had caught your attention so intensely.

For a moment, Viktor seemed surprised. Then, his expression softened, though still laden with reservation.

"I don’t usually accept those types of invitations," he admitted, though his tone didn’t sound too convincing.

That wasn’t a rejection, at least not a definitive one. He was evaluating you. Clearly, he didn’t trust you yet. You adapted to the situation and played his game. You weren’t going to let such a man slip away so easily.

"And I don’t usually make them. Few things capture my attention enough to take such a risk. You see, Mr. Viktor, I’m not easily impressed," you replied, maintaining a confident gaze.

His lips curved just slightly into a smile, a kind of wry smirk that was impossible to read.

Viktor was an enigma you were dying to decode.

"In that case, I’ll accept. After all, curiosity is a virtue," he handed you his personal card with all his contact details, practically leaving everything in your hands, giving you the final word.

Your heart skipped another beat, and as you watched him leave, you knew that conversation was just the beginning. Oh, and you couldn’t wait to see what was coming next.

Viktor decided to go for one of his typical nightly walks after escaping that room filled with important names and fake smiles. Fortunately, he managed to slip away before getting caught up in that pathetic charade. Viktor despised those events; the so-called "scientists" who attended seemed more interested in taking pictures with him than in seriously discussing their projects. They didn’t care about science. In fact, Viktor often doubted whether they had ever opened a quantum physics book in their lives.

The sound of Viktor's footsteps echoed softly on the deserted sidewalk. It was one of those quiet nights when the city lights seemed to dissolve into the horizon, and the stars began to shine brightly. The calmness centered him, pulling him away from daily worries. During these moments, he could reflect on his research progress but also on the purpose science gave him. Sometimes, when the air was fresh and clear, he allowed himself to think of something more personal.

The conversations from that day at the conference still lingered in his mind. Her. The journalist he had spoken to after his presentation. There was something about her that had unsettled him: her sharp curiosity, her direct way of asking questions, and, most of all, the way she wasn’t afraid to challenge him. That had left him pondering. After so many years in the academic and scientific world, it was rare for someone to go beyond technical topics and ask him something more personal. But she had done just that.

A sigh escaped his lips as he looked up at the starry sky. The stillness of the universe, the precision of planetary orbits—all of it seemed to have a purpose. But in his own life, everything was in constant flux. After the interview, she had asked him out. It had been unexpected, but Viktor couldn’t help feeling intrigued. The sensation of uncertainty and anticipation kept him on edge as he walked through the nearby park.

The sound of a message interrupted his thoughts. He pulled out his phone, still gazing at the stars, and saw a LinkedIn notification: a connection request from her. Something in his stomach flipped. What was she expecting from him? A deeper conversation, perhaps? It was a world of unknowns. Viktor wasn’t someone who let curiosity drive him, but there was something about this woman—something about her intellect—that kept him captivated.

One step at a time, he thought, as he accepted the request, not really knowing what to expect from it.

Three days later, in the cozy restaurant where they had agreed to meet, Viktor couldn’t stop rehearsing the words he had mentally prepared. This wasn’t the kind of social situation he excelled at; the conference had been easier, more technical. But now, sitting across from you, there was something that made him feel vulnerable. It wasn’t just his work at stake.

You arrived on time. He watched you as you walked through the restaurant door. The warm light from the lamps highlighted your face, but what immediately caught his attention was the way you walked: confident, yet with a seriousness that belied any facade of superficiality. He had seen you in your role as a journalist, but now, here, he couldn’t help but feel disoriented by your presence.

"Are you nervous?" you asked with a slight smile, noticing the small drops of sweat on his forehead.

"No, just... thoughtful," Viktor replied, more out of habit than sincerity.

The conversation began with that slight tug of awkwardness, something he had already anticipated.

You both took a seat, and after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, you started asking him questions about his research, careful to use a tone that indicated you weren’t just interested in professional matters.

“Why did you choose biotechnology, Viktor? It’s not an easy or straightforward discipline.” It was the first time you addressed him informally, and it seemed to please him because you noticed his shoulders relaxed.

Viktor studied your face more closely. In your gaze, there wasn’t just curiosity but genuine interest. Finally, he could see that you weren’t merely seeking more information for your work but something more.

“It’s a way to try to surpass my own limits. Since I was a child, I’ve been obsessed with the idea that the human body can be improved, even when physical limitations seem insurmountable,” he said, his words tinged with vulnerability. He looked at you and felt satisfied seeing you listening intently. “At some point, I realized I wasn’t just trying to improve my body but others’ as well.”

You didn’t look at him as a distant scientist but as someone who had dedicated his life to a cause. The sincerity in his words struck you unexpectedly.

“But what happens when science becomes too big? When humanity is lost in the process?”

Viktor paused. That was the question he feared most, yet you had posed it with a disarming naturalness.

“That’s what I try to avoid,” he replied, almost in a whisper. “Science should serve humanity, not dominate it. But sometimes... the path forward is uncertain.”

At that moment, the air between you grew tense. Viktor’s universe, which until then had been filled with cold equations and formulas, seemed to crumble a little before you, as if everything he had built was only a reflection of his own insecurities.

The waiter brought the food, but neither of you seemed to notice.

“I’m surprised by how open you are about this. Most people with physical disabilities are quite reserved when it comes to their condition,” you said sincerely, trying to lighten the moment, though the seriousness of the conversation lingered.

“The truth is... no one’s ever asked me before,” he admitted, unable to suppress the faint smile that formed on his lips.

You continued to observe him, this time with more depth, more intensity.

“I think that’s what draws me to your work, Viktor. It’s not just the science; it’s the way you constantly question yourself. It’s as if you’re searching for something more than just solutions.” You were fascinated, and you weren’t afraid to show it.

There was a silence—the kind of silence that invites something more. Viktor pondered how to explain himself.

“The search for answers never ends. And sometimes... that’s all you have.”

You smiled, amused. Conversations with him were always unpredictable. You glanced around the room, noting the soft lighting, the dancing shadows on the walls, the distant murmur of other diners… It all faded when Viktor spoke. Every word that left his mouth seemed designed to disarm you, to subtly but directly pull you out of your comfort zone—a remarkable feat for a journalist like you.

“So, what drives you to follow this path?” you asked, your voice soft but loaded with genuine interest, studying every reaction Viktor gave. With each new sentence, you sought to challenge him, wanting more than his opinion—something beyond his scientific facade.

Viktor looked at you over his glass of wine, his gaze more cautious than he would have liked to admit. The way you were interested in his words was unusual. Most people saw his research as mere achievements or theories. But you saw him—the person, the man behind the genius.

“It’s not just about science,” Viktor replied, but his voice sounded less sure than he had hoped. Something in the air between you unsettled him. There was something in the way you looked at him, with an intensity that made him feel exposed. “It’s about changing the rules, about finding what... what others don’t see.”

You smiled, but not kindly. There was a glint of amusement in your eyes, playing a game only you seemed to know.

“And what do you see, Viktor?” you asked provocatively, your lips curving with mischief. It wasn’t just a simple question. Every word you spoke was a touch, a brush, something that pushed him to let you see more, to say more than he was willing to reveal.

Viktor felt trapped in your gaze but couldn’t look away. Something about you stirred the need to talk, to expose his vulnerability. The tension was palpable; each new interaction seemed like another step in an invisible dance.

“I see a world full of possibilities…” he replied, more by instinct than reflection. He was far from his scientific research, from the cold and calculated equations. Here, there were no formulas he could apply. It was just you and him—and a chemistry as tangible as the air surrounding you.

You let your eyes slowly glide over him as if evaluating every facet of his being, every word, every gesture. It was a silent analysis, one you didn’t bother hiding. Viktor could feel himself being drawn into your scrutiny.

“Is that all you see?” you whispered, leaning slightly closer to the table, keeping your eyes fixed on his, determined to unravel his mask of control. “I think there’s more, something you haven’t said.”

The air between you thickened. Viktor swallowed hard, feeling his heart beat faster than usual. You had hit the mark, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to continue this conversation—not with the way you were looking at him now, like a predator stalking its prey.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his voice lower than usual, though something in his eyes glimmered with more than doubt—there was something urging him to let go.

Without missing a beat, you picked up your wine glass and, in a motion so smooth it seemed casual, brought it to your lips, looking at him over the rim. You said nothing, but Viktor understood the silent invitation. The chemistry was there between you, dense and palpable. The brush of your lips, the way your fingers grazed the glass… Everything was a subtle provocation, a game neither of you was willing to lose.

Viktor leaned slightly forward, letting the distance between you shrink. His breath hitched for a moment, and when he spoke, his tone was low—so intimate it almost felt like a confession.

“I’m not a man who lets himself go…” he said, but his words didn’t convince even himself. He was caught in the current of what was happening, in the tension woven between your bodies.

“Are you sure?” You raised an eyebrow, your demeanor now a little more challenging. Your voice carried a subtle provocation but didn’t lose the softness that characterized your way of speaking.

You were a challenge, and Viktor, though he denied it, was more than willing to accept it—to accept you.

The conversation veered into more personal matters, and as it did, the words became softer, closer, as if the two of you were walking a fine line between professional and intimate. Viktor realized that every phrase that left your lips not only challenged him intellectually but also disarmed him emotionally.

Time flew by, and when dessert arrived, both of you knew the night was far from over. Viktor was restless, but in a way unfamiliar to him.

You, on the other hand, enjoyed your effect on him. It was so amusing to see how he held his breath when you 'accidentally' grazed his right leg with your heel under the table. The way the corners of his mouth trembled, creating a slight pout, as if silently asking for more. You found yourself in total surrender—if that man asked for the moon, you'd head to space to fetch it for him. But, of course, you wouldn't let him know that. Not yet.

At the end of the dinner, after talking about everything and nothing, Viktor leaned forward, looking at you with an expression that, for the first time that night, showed a mix of determination and something else... something unsettling.

"Would you like to come to my place?" he asked, his voice now firm, though tinged with a touch of uncertainty. There was something in his words that made him more vulnerable, as if he needed this connection, this closeness.

And you couldn’t help but feel the same.

"I’d love to," you replied, and your confirmation hit Viktor like a direct blow to the heart.

It was clear: the night had only just begun.

Viktor's house was exactly what you expected from him: minimalist, functional, almost austere in its decoration. Yet, there was something incredibly cozy about the way everything was arranged. The dim lighting, the soft classical music playing in the background, the faint aroma of incense that filled the air... Everything was meticulously designed to soothe, to find the balance he so clearly sought.

The atmosphere was perfect, but you couldn't help but feel that the air was heavy, charged with something more than just the fragrance of the incense. It was as if Viktor's home itself reflected the inner struggle he carried: orderly, precise, but so, so empty.

Viktor watched as your eyes scanned his home with a mix of curiosity and caution. In your gaze, there was something he couldn’t quite read—an air of control and, at the same time, total vulnerability. It was obvious he wasn’t used to showing his private life, but he said nothing.

As usual, you broke the silence first. You approached the living room table, lightly touching the polished wooden surface, your fingers brushing against the objects decorating it.

"You have an… interesting house," you commented in a tone that could be interpreted as sarcastic. You wanted to tease him.

Viktor glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, a slight hint of discomfort visible on his face.

"I don’t like distractions," he replied curtly, but the look he gave you was more complex. A hint of something hidden beneath the surface, something he wasn’t ready to share.

You didn’t bother to insist. Instead, you turned toward him, and before Viktor could react, you stepped forward, eagerly. Every step you took felt as if you were crossing an invisible boundary, challenging every rule Viktor had built for himself. You wanted to push him to his limits, to shatter his perfect facade, to strip him bare in both body and soul.

"I think distractions are necessary sometimes," you murmured slowly and sensually, your tone laden with subtext Viktor immediately recognized.

He stood frozen, unable to look away. Something in your voice disarmed him, something in your presence made him want to open up in a way he wasn’t accustomed to. And yet, he couldn’t resist it.

"And what kind of distraction do you have in mind?" His voice came out deeper than he had intended, with a hint of unease he couldn’t disguise.

Your tongue traced the edges of your lips slowly, not quite touching your lipstick, just teasing, just enough to draw his attention to your mouth. When you succeeded, you smirked wickedly.

Viktor swallowed hard, unconsciously licking his own lips, an involuntary, clumsy act that left him defenseless against you.

"How about a conversation without filters?" you suggested, your voice almost a whisper.

Your fingers moved closer to his chest, gently brushing the lapel of his jacket, exploring every inch of his form with your eyes before deciding whether to touch or not, like a soldier in unknown territory. Viktor swallowed with difficulty, feeling his body respond to that simple touch, that closeness he hadn’t anticipated.

You didn’t back away for a moment, keeping eye contact with him while your fingers still toyed with the fabric of his clothes. Viktor felt a weight in his chest, not just from the tension of the moment, but from the need to step away, to stop letting you control him this way. Yet, something in him didn’t want you to stop.

"What I want, Viktor..." you began, your voice a whisper charged with a confidence that unsettled him, "...is for you to show me who you really are. Not the genius everyone knows, not the scientific leader everyone respects. Just you. The man behind it all. Show me the real you."

Viktor took a deep breath, feeling those words cut deep. He had never allowed anyone to see him that way. He had never let anyone get this close. And yet, here you were, making him feel like it was impossible not to open up to you. Like it was impossible to deny the need to surrender, even for a moment, to something beyond science, beyond reason.

You moved even closer, your lips just a few centimeters from his. The distance was minimal but enough to make the tension between you almost unbearable. Your breaths mingled, and Viktor could feel the heat emanating from you, the palpable desire surrounding you both.

"And if I don’t want you to see that?" His voice was low but defiant, as if trying to protect himself from something he knew, deep down, he could no longer avoid.

You found yourself smiling again, but this time it wasn’t a playful smile. It was a smile of understanding because you had confirmed your suspicions.

Viktor was afraid of connecting with someone. Maybe he didn’t even know how to do it; maybe he never had and had always convinced himself he didn’t need to—that with his machines and equations, he would have enough.

"Then why am I here?" you asked, not moving back even a millimeter.

For a brief moment, Viktor felt trapped. He couldn’t lie, couldn’t keep his distance. Something inside him wanted to give in, wanted to feel vulnerable, for once, without the weight of perfection he imposed on himself.

"Because..." he began, but his words faded into the air when you pulled him toward you, your lips brushing lightly against his. It was a fleeting touch, so brief that Viktor barely had time to process it, but it left him trembling, gripping his cane tighter as he felt he might lose his balance.

You looked into his eyes, waiting for a reaction, any kind of response, some indicator, a confirmation, anything. Viktor stood there, motionless, but his thoughts were a whirlwind. The strength he had resisted with all night dissolved in that contact, and for the first time, he felt the raw, real desire to embrace vulnerability. To let go.

Without a word, Viktor kissed you. At first, it was slow, cautious, and clumsy, as if testing the waters, afraid of diving too quickly. But you weren’t interested in caution; you pulled him into you, craving more contact, more friction, more intimacy...

Your tongue made its way into his mouth, tracing his front teeth and laughing in his face when you heard him sigh in surprise. Your hands traveled to the back of his neck and you took complete control. You devoured him. You sucked and bit as you went. You ate up all his moans and swallowed him greedily.

When you separated, you both breathed heavily. Viktor, his mind clouded by desire, felt a strange sense of lightness. For a moment, the scientist in him had completely disappeared. You didn't waste his moment of confusion and pushed him onto the couch behind him. Viktor fell awkwardly and humiliatingly, his cane had fallen to the floor, and his long, weak legs were spread wide. His brown hair was messy, and his eyes were as wide as they were bright.

You smiled, he looked ready to be devoured. You took a step and raised your foot on the furniture, placing it right in front of Viktor's crotch. You bent your torso and appreciated his blush up close.

"Don't think about it too much, Viktor. Just... let yourself go. Let me take care of you. Can you do that?" you asked, taking him by his thin chin, he nodded slowly and shakily, like a lamb at the mercy of a wolf, and the truth is that metaphor was not so far from reality.

He's not used to relinquishing control, but in this moment, he finds himself craving it. Craving you. And you noticed it, you noticed his desire, his wish to lose himself in you, so you were going to give him your best. You wanted to make him feel good. Really good.

"Oh, aren't you a pretty boy?," you said, pressing the sharp tip of your heel into his cock. Viktor inhales sharply, his hips bucking instinctively into your touch, he was like a hungry puppy. A strangled moan escapes his lips, his eyes fluttering closed at the sudden surge of pleasure-pain. "So obedient and willing to help, to give his best, as always."

He flushes at your teasing words, a mix of embarrassment and arousal coloring his pale skin. Viktor's not used to being called sweet or pretty, least of all in a situation like this. But the way you say it, with that wicked gleam in your eyes and that smirk on your lips... it makes him want to be those things. For you.

Humming softly, he reaches up to cover your hand on his chin with his own, guiding it to his chest. His heartbeat is rapid and strong beneath your palm, a silent testament to his desire. "I am not... accustomed to such directness", he admits, his voice rough with need. "But I find myself appreciating it." Viktor's other hand comes to rest on your calf. It's a tentative touch, almost hesitant, but unmistakably eager.

His broken voice. His defeated expression. The way his hand caressed your leg, so sweet yet so hard. It was too much. You needed to please him as soon as possible.

"You're so cute," you had to bite your lip to keep from cursing, "Can I eat you?"

Viktor's eyes widen at your bold question, a wave of heat rushing to his cheeks and other more sensitive areas. He's not used to such crude, direct language, especially not from someone as cool and collected as you show to be. It catches him off guard and sets his heart racing.

As you kneels down in front of him, Viktor's breath hitches in his throat. He looks down at you, his amber eyes searching your face for any hint of jest or deception. But he finds none. Only a hunger that matches his own, a desire that makes his stomach flip and his mouth go dry.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Viktor nods. His voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks, his words almost lost amidst the pounding of his own heartbeat. "I... I would like that. Very much," he swallows hard, his tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips.

Viktor's hands come to rest on the couch beside him, gripping the fabric tightly. He's not sure what to do with himself, how to act in this new role of his. All he knows is that he wants you, wants your touch, wants your everything. And so, with a deep breath, he spreads his legs a little wider, a silent invitation.

"Can I take off your pants?" you knew you didn't need to ask, it was more than obvious that you both wanted to. But your goal was to enjoy this new facet of Viktor, you were liking this tender and submissive Viktor a little bit too much.

Viktor feels is heart pounding in his chest as he stares down at you kneeling before him. The sight sends a jolt of anticipation and arousal through his body, his cock throbbing almost painfully against the confines of his pants.

With a shaky nod, Viktor lifts his hips slightly, allowing you to slip your fingers under the waistband of his pants. His breath catches in his throat as you start to tug them down, inch by torturous inch. The cool air of the house hits his skin, making him shiver and his member twitch. Once his pants and underwear are off, Viktor sits bare before you, his legs splayed out and his arousal evident. He resists the urge to cover up, forcing himself to stay still and let you appreciate him. His cheeks burn with embarrassment and desire, his chest heaving with each ragged breath.

"You're even prettier down here," your compliment makes him choke on his saliva.

The way you look at him, with your eyes roaming hungrily over every inch of his exposed flesh... it makes him feel powerful. Desired. Needed. And Viktor has never felt needed.

He squirms slightly under your intense scrutiny, his cock jumping at the slightest brush of your fingertips against his thigh. Viktor's voice is low and rough when he speaks, his words laced with need. 

"I am glad you find me pleasing. I must admit, I have never been inspected quite so... thoroughly before," his lips twitch into a tentative smile, his eyes darkened with desire as they meet yours.

Well, that was a new side. A sassy and naughty one. And you loved it even more.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Viktor reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear. He was so sweet, you wanted to hug him and never let him go.

His fingers linger on your cheek, tracing the delicate curve of your jaw and the soft swell of your lower lip.

It was impossible for you not to smile with tenderness, you let your face rest on his thin hand. Then you looked him straight in the eyes, your desire to tease him never completely went away.

"It's so funny how you keep using your fancy talk despite being in this situation," you had to comment, and as expected, the blush returned to his cheeks. Adorable. "Here, take my hair."

Your request was very unexpected.

Viktor blinks in momentary confusion as you hands him your long hair, unsure of your intentions. But as your warm breath ghosts over his sensitive flesh, he quickly forgets his bewilderment, replaced by a surge of anticipation.

He takes the silky strands in his hand, marveling at the weight of them, the way they slip through his fingers. Viktor's heart races as you lean in, your lips parting to reveal the wet heat of your mouth.

And then, you takes him. All of him. Viktor's head falls back against the couch, a strangled moan tearing from his throat as your lips seal around his throbbing cock. The sensation is incredible, unlike anything he's ever felt before. Your tongue swirls around his length, exploring every ridge and vein with a curiosity that borders on reverence.

Viktor's grip tightens on your hair as he fights the urge to thrust into the wet heat of your mouth. He was so overwhelmed, so consumed by sensation. It's terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

His breath comes in short, sharp gasps as you works over his cock, your head bobbing up and down in a steady rhythm. Viktor's never been more grateful for his weakness, for the way his leg keeps him rooted to the spot, unable to move anything but his hips in shallow, aborted thrusts.

You looked at him without stopping sucking at any time, you were hungry for him. You loved seeing him so vulnerable and so pleased by you. In fact, you wanted to give him more pleasure, you wanted to take him to paradise and bring him back.

Viktor's eyes flutter open, hazy and unfocused as he stares down at you. The sight of you, so hungry and eager, your lips stretched around his throbbing flesh... was almost too much to bear. His breath comes in harsh, ragged pants as you continues your assault, your tongue and lips and the wet, sucking heat of your mouth pushing him closer and closer to the edge. Viktor's fingers tighten almost painfully in your hair, his hips jerking and stuttering as he fights the urge to lose himself completely.

Your eyes meet his, intense and filled with a passion that makes his heart race.

His balls draw up tight, his cock pulsing and throbbing as his climax approaches, and with a pathetic cry, Viktor comes undone, his release crashing over him like a tidal wave. His cock jerks and pulses as he spills himself into your eager mouth, his fingers tightening almost cruelly in your scalp as he rides out the aftershocks of his intense orgasm.

As the waves of pleasure start to subside, Viktor slowly comes back to himself, his breathing still ragged and uneven. It takes a moment for the reality of what just happened to sink in - he just came, hard and fast, in your mouth, and you just swallowed it.

Viktor was mortified. A deep, blotchy red spread across his pale skin, creeping down his neck and pooling at his collarbone. Each shaky breath he took only seemed to fan the flames of his embarrassment. His hands, usually steady when working on intricate mechanisms, now trembled as they gripped the edge of the couch. When he tried to pull away, mumbling apologies, you stopped him gently but firmly.

Your hand stayed where it was, warm and reassuring, keeping him grounded in the present moment. “No, Viktor,” you murmured softly, your voice calm and soothing, like a balm for his raw nerves.

“I… I’m so sorry,” he stammered, his voice rough and broken. He couldn’t bring himself to look at you, his golden eyes fixed somewhere far away, as though retreating into himself might erase what had just happened. “That was… incredibly inappropriate of me. I couldn’t control myself… I couldn’t…” His voice faltered, fading into a silence heavy with shame.

Without a word, you shifted closer, carefully settling onto his lap. Your presence made him tense at first, but as your warmth seeped into him, you felt his rigid posture begin to soften.

Viktor swallowed hard, his lips trembling as he tried to continue. “I feel so selfish,” he admitted in a hoarse whisper. “I couldn’t hold back… and I couldn’t… I couldn’t give you anything in return. I didn’t—” His words broke off, and he turned his head, as if hiding from you might shield him from his own insecurities. “I’m pathetic.”

Your heart ached at his confession. It wasn’t just his words—it was the weight they carried, the insecurities and self-doubt that had clearly plagued him for years. Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a hug that was firm but full of tenderness, as if trying to hold all the broken pieces of him together.

Your fingers found their way to his messy hair, threading through the soft strands with care. You pressed a kiss to his forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling back slightly to cradle his face in your hands. His cheeks were still flushed, and his expression was a mix of embarrassment and surprise, but he didn’t resist.

“Viktor,” you said gently, your tone low but filled with conviction. “Look at me.”

He hesitated, his golden eyes darting nervously before finally meeting yours. They were full of hesitation, as if he were bracing himself for judgment. But all he found in your gaze was warmth.

“Do I look like someone who’s disappointed?” you asked, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Before he could stammer out a response, you continued, your thumbs brushing lightly across his cheeks. “This was our first time trying something like this. It’s normal that it was so… intense. It’s a natural reaction, Viktor, and nothing to feel ashamed of.”

He blinked at you, his confusion evident, but you weren’t done yet. A playful glint sparkled in your eyes as you leaned in slightly closer. “And if I’m being honest,” you added, your voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper, “I enjoyed every second of it. I’ve been fantasizing about moments like this since the day I met you.”

The way his eyes widened and his blush deepened was almost enough to make you laugh. But instead, you smiled softly, leaning in to brush your lips lightly against his ear. “Besides,” you whispered, your tone teasing but full of affection, “this is only the beginning, pretty boy. We’ve got plenty of time for moments like this.”

His breath hitched at the nickname, and for a moment, he looked completely disarmed. He nodded slowly, his embarrassment still evident, but there was a flicker of trust in his gaze now.

It was then that you noticed the exhaustion etched into his features—the dark circles under his eyes, the slump of his shoulders. It was obvious that he had been working tirelessly, likely pushing himself past his limits, as he always did and confessed to you. And now, after everything that had just happened, the tiredness seemed to weigh on him even more.

“Do you want to cuddle tonight?” you asked casually, though your tone was laced with affection. You already knew the answer. He was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, and he needed rest.

Viktor looked at you, his expression softening into something that resembled gratitude. “Yes… please,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Without another word, you guided him to lie down with you, pulling him close until his head rested against your chest. His arms hesitated at first before wrapping around your waist tentatively, and you could feel the tension slowly melting away from his body.

As you ran your fingers through his hair and whispered soft reassurances, you felt his breathing slow, syncing with yours. He sighed softly, his entire body relaxing in your embrace. In that quiet, intimate moment, you felt a wave of protectiveness wash over you.

Holding him like this, you silently promised yourself that you would always be there for him. To remind him that he didn’t have to face his insecurities alone, that he didn’t have to be perfect to be loved. He was enough—just as he was. And as he drifted off to sleep, you knew he felt it too.

The first rays of dawn began to filter through the windows of Viktor's home. The atmosphere, which had been warm and charged with intensity, was now tinged with a calmer, more reflective silence.

Both of you lay together on the sofa, your bodies entwined and your breaths synchronized. Viktor rested against you, his face buried in your hair, his fingers tracing abstract patterns along your back as if trying to memorize every detail of this moment.

"I never thought..." he began, his voice barely above a whisper.

You lifted your head to look at him, the light in his eyes still a mix of disbelief and tenderness.

"Never thought what?" you asked softly, your fingers brushing against his jawline.

"I never thought I’d need this as much as I do now." His confession was simple yet heavy with meaning. His barriers had fallen, at least with you, and you both understood the weight of that.

You smiled, feeling how deeply those words resonated within you. There was something profoundly beautiful about seeing someone like Viktor—so used to solitude and sacrifice—allow himself this kind of vulnerability.

"We all need something, Viktor. Even you." Your tone was gentle but firm, making it clear you wouldn’t let him retreat behind his mask of self-reliance again.

Viktor nodded but said nothing more. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips warm and steady. It was a simple gesture but full of quiet affection, a language you were both beginning to understand.

As the hours passed, you talked about mundane and profound things, from his advancements to favorite books. The walls of Viktor’s home, which had once felt so empty, now carried an unexpected warmth—a spark neither of you was willing to extinguish.

Before you left, Viktor reached for your hand, his grip gentle but firm.

"I don’t know how to fit this into my life… with you," he admitted. His words were sincere, almost fearful, but his gaze said something else: he wanted to try, and for the first time, he was willing to open that door.

You looked at him, and with a calm smile, you squeezed his hand.

"You don’t have to figure it all out right now. Just… don’t close the door before seeing what’s on the other side."

And with that, you left his house, though not without one last look that spoke more than words ever could.

[doctorho]

Constellations

hiii guys!! i got this ask about the idea of Viktor with a reader who has some visible moles and Viktor gets...curious. About the possibility of there being more of them. so then i wrote this. 2k(ish) words, gender neutral reader, no warnings. alcohol mentioned but only in like a "there's a party and viktor has a cocktail" type of way, no heavy drinking involved. i like writing the fancy academy parties, what can i say. here you go!!

Viktor is nothing if not curious. And – well. Observant. It comes with the territory of navigating life in Piltover as a Zaunite, and doubly so as a disabled Zaunite that was now a semi-public figure deeply involved in the businesses and inner workings of Piltover. 

Being observant was useful, both when working on uncovering the still-veiled mysteries of the universe and when keeping track of social exchanges at formal events. It was as much a carefully wielded tool as it was a well-honed survival skill, developed over the years as someone on the sidelines. 

And being curious – well. That was just a deep-rooted facet of Viktor's existence. The day he'd stop wanting to look at the world just a bit more closely, to understand it a bit more deeply, to turn over one more problem, that would be the day that he'd stop breathing. That was just how he was. 

It's what landed him a place at the Academy in the first place, and it's what kept him going. 

It's also what's landed him in the current mess that he was in. 

(It was, truth be told, what landed him in most of the messes he found himself in. Well, that, or his rather exploratory problem solving habits, but what was a little trial and error without some error? Besides, if you were going to fail at something, it was best to fail fast and hard, as efficiently as possible, for the best results). 

This, however? This was different. This was a mess he hadn't anticipated. 

See, he's - he's at the lab most days. He doesn’t exactly seek out social gatherings, unless presented with a very intriguing premise. He's not anti-social, per se, but he simply stays out of other people's business when he can, he focuses on his work, and that's that. But then – then. 

Then you off-handedly mention that even though most of the people of Piltover seemed to think of moles and freckles as flaws, as imperfections, you were trying to think of yours as the unique markings that they were, but it was difficult to ignore the external pressure to always be on the lookout for another flaw to feel self-conscious over. And then you're turning your arm in the air slowly, examining in the late afternoon light in front of the window at the lab, and Viktor's noticed the moles scattered over your skin before, of course, he's noticed them the same way he's noticed the swirls of ice crystals forming in the windows and the specs of dust glittering in a sunbeam on the floor – the moles are exactly what you say they are, he thinks, unique markings, something that made a person more interesting to look at. And he'd known that the people of Piltover had some...questionable opinions on beauty standards, on imperfections, but… 

Viktor didn't agree with them. 

“Would you consider the stars in the night sky as imperfections?” he asks, lowering the soldering iron he'd been holding, scraping down excess solder residue onto the pad under the heating station, and slowly turning to look at you with a carefully raised eyebrow when you don't immediately respond. 

“That's not really the same thing, is it.” You answer eventually, leaning back on your chair. 

“Isn't it?” 

“I don't illuminate anything, for one.”

“Details,” he counters, with a wave of his hand, then reaches into one of the drawers on his desk to retrieve pliers. “Besides, the sky is often pictured with inverted colors for convenience. With the stars as dark dots.”  

“Really?”

He hums in answer, leaning back over his project, holding his newly formed connection up to his eye level, inspecting it. 

“Huh,” you answer, lifting your arm over to the fading sunlight again. “Yeah, you could probably make a few constellations out of these.” 

And Viktor makes the mistake of looking over, because – while he truly had meant his analogy innocently, as just a supporting honest notion, the golden sunlight is hitting you now and that makes you as luminous as any collection of stars, and he has to force himself to look away before he gets caught staring. He exhales slowly and turns over the piece he was working on, for no particular reason – he already knew the connections were perfect – “Yes,” he agrees, “you probably could.”

He would have no professional explanation for staring, so he turns over the part he was holding one more time. 

This does not mean he won't steal a glance at opportune moments, when you're too busy to notice. Because he is intrigued now, and it's bad enough that he already thought you were beautiful, and worse than that, interesting to look at, and really, that was it. He was doomed. Done for. Utterly, irrevocably hooked, and what else was he supposed to do? Not be curious about this new aspect presented to him? Yeah, not likely. If he'd do that, he wouldn't be Viktor. 

He knew he'd wanted to get closer to you before, to touch you, he'd just…ignored it for convenience, shelved it under figure out later - too complicated for now.

The feeling seemed to have grown in hibernation. 

The metaphor stays in his mind, whirring in the background as he tries to go on with his day. But he keeps noticing it, noticing you, getting stuck watching the little specks on your skin disappear up your sleeves and into the collar of your overshirt, and he is itching to know what kind of constellations he could trace out of them. 

And then– then, the days just keep piling up on top of each other and Viktor keeps stealing glances and having annoyingly, frustratingly vague dreams about removed shirts and whispered sighs and too-light touches, and he keeps showing up to the lab pretending everything was normal and fine and totally under perfect control, all business as usual over on his side. Did the new shipment arrive already?

And then the Academic Year's Open Ceremony comes around, and Viktor did not account for the non-Academy-issued outfit that you would be wearing, even though he probably should have expected it. But foresight was not one of his talents, so when he'd agreed to go, he had not thought about the low lights and deep-cut necklines and what the champagne buzz in his head would do to his self-control. To the rational thinking that was usually his lifeline. To his imagination.

Now that was all he could think about. 

There was a champagne flute in one of his hands, and the other was gripping the handle of his cane slightly too hard. It would make his joints ache soon, but that would be a problem for future him. Perhaps even a nice little distraction from the torture of watching you in your glamorous getup, smiling and talking with someone, while he was merely pretending to be listening to the conversation he was in. 

Viktor nods at what he thinks are the correct moments (or at least, close enough), but his eyes remain glued to where you were standing. 

He hadn't seen you in clothes that revealing before, and he was taking this as a free research opportunity. His eyes trace over your skin, mapping the new-to-him pattern of moles and freckles, and something greedy at the bottom of his stomach wants to trace them with his fingers, too. And he knows that's inappropriate, especially while someone was lecturing him about the future of the Academy, but honestly, he didn't care. His train of thought was currently only about one heartbeat long, and the thing purring at the bottom of his stomach was getting louder, hungrier, needier, it was crawling up his spine, up the back of his neck, making him feel breathless, and he has to close his eyes just to re-calibrate his brain and breathe. 

He could not fathom how the Piltovians could see such marks as imperfections. They were like art, and Viktor would much rather spend his time looking at something interesting than something over-polished any day.

With the patterns he can see on your skin, he has theories about what must be on the parts he can't see, and he likes it. Not so much that he wouldn't like to make sure of his theories one way or the other – he was flexible, and open to being proved wrong, more than willing to gather more information on this. He takes a sip of his drink and his fingers flex over the handle of his cane and he exhales a tense sigh, and forces himself to look at his supposed conversation partner for a moment again as you lean your head back in a sparkling laugh. 

Torture. It was torture, pure and simple. Honey-thick and sweet as molasses, but torture all the same. 

Your skin glistens in the low golden lights of the party, and Viktor stares. You cleaned up nicely, and nothing about your outfit was inappropriate in itself, but his imagination was more than enough to change that. And he is aching to somehow warp the situation so that it was just you and him and just enough of the golden light to see by. The champagne could stay, and the music, but the band was on thin ice - they would have to be in a different room and preferably on the other side of a locked door. Viktor didn't appreciate interruptions, even in his imagination. He didn't like most of the people attending the party on a good day, and he definitely didn't like them now.

He takes a breath, fixes his posture, and takes another breath. Reminds himself of the reality he was in; the role he was playing. Five-year-plan. Yes. The Academy was getting a research grant from the Council. How nice.

The longer the night stretches on, the more his restraint stretches with it, and it was starting to wear thin. The reasoning he'd done with himself earlier about why he should stay away was starting to feel fickle – convenience? Had that really been his best selling point? What had he been thinking? 

It was itching at the back of his mind, the wrongness of forcing himself to pretend he didn't want to get closer, didn't want to go up and compliment you, to see you smile, to steal the privilege of your company for as long as he could, hopefully for the rest of the night. And currently, he was having a hard time convincing himself that the simplicity and convenience of keeping things how they had been before was worth it.

The sun had set hours ago, and the tall windows were starting to let in starlight, and when he finally gets a moment alone with you, it's while you're looking up at the sky, leaning over at a slightly awkward angle to be able to see as much of the sky as possible. 

He looks at you there for a moment, and takes a slow, deep breath. And then he walks to your side. 

If he was going to fail at this, he was going to fail fast and hard. Efficiently. And hopefully with minimal damage.

"Personally," he says calmly, "I prefer the view out there."

You turn to look at him, and he pretends to be totally casual and cool and collected and not nervous at all.

You look out the window again, and then, hum in agreement. "Unfortunately, I prefer the temperature in here." You answer with a small sigh and a half shrug, and now, Viktor turns to look at you.

Because now, now this was a problem that he had a solution for. 

He hmms in answer, and does a little double check in his head; yes, the upper levels of the building should be empty. The working staff was all here and the students were home. Should be vacant.

Viktor smiles a little. “How fortunate, then,” he says quietly, conspiratorially, “that we have an observatory tower.” 

For a single second, you look surprised. And then you blink, and a smile spreads over your lips. 

He raises an eyebrow. 

“I assume you have the keys?” 

Viktor shrugs nonchalantly. 

You grin and grab his hand, already moving towards the exit. “What are we waiting for, then?”

[tired-truffle]

Even the Gods Cry For Us

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 4.6k

Part 12/17

Tag list: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @potatointhedirt (if anyone else would like to be tagged with future updates let me know!)

"You love him despite the burden of Atlas resting on his shoulders, and he loves you despite the death still clinging to your lips, and the blood drying at its corners. What a pair you make." - The greatest lovers in hell // L.H.Z

Masterlist

Husk greeted you at the entrance, surprise in the raise of his brows as he realized who approached so late at night. You’d waved, giving him a small smile, before slipping past him and into the quiet commune. Darkness had descended, and most had gone to bed as you traversed through the sleepy streets on your way towards your room. 

The sharp trill of anxiety flickered at the back of your throat, the floating sparks pulsing sporadically. How were you supposed to explain this to Viktor? It wasn’t like he was your minder, but disappearing with nothing more than a note hadn’t been the kindest option. You also hadn’t been in your right mind, to be fair, but that didn’t make it feel any better. 

You’d hoped to sneak into the safety of your room without incident, but as you entered the spherical building, you were only given seconds to prepare before you were swept into awaiting arms, pulled tight against soft robes and the hard planes of Viktor’s chest. Pine and a metallic tang surrounded you, lulling you into a state of calm as you leaned against him, using the last of your strength to keep your knees from buckling. 

His breath tickled the top of your head as he buried his face in your hair, sighing like years of strife had rolled off his shoulders. Had he always been that tall, or had the enhancements added height? 

“Please, do not do that again, miláčku.” Muffled as his words were, you didn’t miss the slight waver in his voice.

“I won’t,” you said, equally as muffled. 

With great effort, Viktor pulled himself away, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly as he held you at arm's length. His eyes were bloodshot and swimming with concern for you, terrified for your safety. Guilt reared its ugly head, making your gut roil and your palms clammy. Your sparks migrated slowly towards him, buzzing happily as they bobbed. 

“Are you angry with me?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

His nostrils flared and he tightened his grip on your shoulders. “Furious,” he said and you blanched, unsure of how to respond other than to get on your knees and beg his forgiveness. But this was Viktor and he had no interest in grovelling. “Though I am grateful to see you returned more than anything else. I…worried I’d lost you. Whatever anger I feel will fade, but I will never feel anything other than relieved that you have returned home.”

You sucked both lips between your teeth, gaze trained on the floor. An ‘I’m sorry’ wouldn’t cut it so you didn’t say it - nor would it be entirely sincere. You’d accomplished what you’d set out to do, and while the way you’d gone about it had been incredibly foolish and dangerous, at least it had worked.

“Something is…” he tilted his head to the side, “different about you.”

“Nothing bad.” You placed your hand on his elbow, slowly easing it from its locked position. Your gaze flickered to the sparks, and Viktor followed, understanding dawning across his features. 

Holding out a hand, a spark floated down to perch on his palm, trilling as it nuzzled against him. “How did you do this?” he asked, the light blue glow reflecting in his iridescent eyes. 

You grimaced, chuckling nervously as he raised an eyebrow. “That’s a great question,” you shuffled your feet, “and I’d be more than happy to fill you in, but maybe not right now? I’d like to lie down, it’s been…taxing.” 

His expression softened and he nodded. “Of course,” he breathed, placing the spark gently on your shoulder, his fingertips trailing down your cheek. Whatever words or actions he had been about to share were abruptly cut off by the sound of angry footsteps approaching from behind you, accompanied by Charlotte's sharp voice ringing out in barely restrained fury. 

“Disappearing with only a vague note, gone for an entire day, and showing up without so much as a hello!” Your shoulders tensed, curling inwards like a child being reprimanded by a school teacher. The kernel of mirth in Viktor’s eyes had you scowling at him. 

You ducked your head and turned, facing Charlotte as she made her way towards the building, stomping as she did so, thin lips twisted into a glower. 

“You could have been dead for all we knew!” she continued at the same volume. “Not even a hint as to where you were or what you were doing, scaring me within an inch of my life, what were you thinking?” 

“Charlotte—“ you tried, your palms instinctively rising in a placating gesture, but she brushed them away with a sharp slap. Before you could react, she wrapped her arms around you in a fiercely tight hug, pulling you close and squeezing with enough force to puff the air from your lungs.

Shocked into stillness, your hands hovered over her, hesitating until Charlotte grumbled, “Don’t just stand there, you silly girl, hug me back already.” 

With a breathy laugh, you did as instructed, tucking the older woman in against you. 

When she released you from her iron grip, her weathered hands cupped your face as she examined you closely. Her eyes widened as she took in the faint bruises and scrapes that marred your skin, remnants of your encounter with the enforcers. Thankfully, she couldn’t see the blood at the back of your head and crusted in your hair, or what was sure to be a nasty laceration. Whoever had hit you hadn’t pulled their swing.

"What happened to you?" she demanded, her tone softening with concern.

You winced, both from the memory and the ache that lingered. "It's a long story," you said wearily. "I promise I'll explain everything tomorrow, but I don’t think I have the brain power for it right now."

Charlotte frowned, but she nodded reluctantly. "Alright, but don't think you're getting out of this conversation. I expect a full explanation in the morning, young lady."

As she turned to leave, Charlotte shot Viktor a pointed look. "Make sure she gets some proper rest, you hear me?"

Viktor nodded solemnly, though that glimmer of mirth remained. "Of course, Charlotte. You have my word."

With a final huff, Charlotte departed, her footsteps fading into the night. You let out a long exhale, feeling the tension slowly seep from your shoulders. Viktor's hand found yours, his long fingers interlacing with your own.

"Come," he said softly, tugging you along with him.

Together, you made your way to the bedroom. The bed, piled high with mismatched blankets and pillows, called to you like a lighthouse beacon in the dark. You sank onto the edge, sighing as the soft mattress cradled your aching body.

Viktor knelt before you, searching your face intently. His fingers ghosted over the marks left by the enforcers and though he barely touched them, the memory alone made you wince. "Let me tend to these," he said, rising to fetch a first aid kit.

You nodded, too exhausted to protest. Viktor moved with quiet efficiency, gathering supplies and returning to kneel before you.

His touch was feather-light as he cleaned each scrape and bruise, the cool cloth soothing against your heated skin. You watched him, mesmerized by the gentle furrow of his brow, the way his lips pressed together in concentration. The sparks that had been hovering around you settled on his shoulders, their soft blue light complimenting his pale skin.

He’d insisted that having a first aid kit would come in handy, given your penchant for injury and his inability to use his powers to heal you. You hadn’t argued, fully aware of your own shortcomings, and also knowing that it would give him a sense of comfort - that even though your Shimmer blocked any attempts at using Hexcore fuelled healing methods, he could still do something to care for your wounds.

When he finished, Viktor's hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. His eyes met yours, filled with concern, relief, and something deeper that made your heart skip a beat - longing and love, perhaps.

Viktor's hand moved to cup the back of your head, but you flinched away with a sharp "Ouch!" His eyes widened in alarm, fingers hovering uncertainly near your hair.

"Why didn't you tell me you were injured there?" he asked, voice tight with worry.

You grimaced, avoiding his gaze. "I didn't want to stress you out further. I think I’ve done enough of that for one day. Look, you’re already going grey.” Pinching the ends of his hair in between your fingers, you tried for a joke meant to lighten the mood, but it fell flat.

He made a soft "tch" sound, shaking his head. "Miláčku, your well-being is my primary concern. Come, let me examine it properly."

Viktor gently took your hand, leading you to the wash basin in the corner. With practiced movements, he pumped water into the bowl and activated the small heating element beneath it. Steam began to rise from the surface as the water warmed.

"Lean forward," he instructed gently, one hand on your back to steady you as you bent over the basin. Viktor's fingers were impossibly gentle as they parted your hair, carefully examining the wound hidden beneath. You heard his sharp intake of breath and winced, imagining how it must look.

Warm water trickled over your scalp as Viktor began to rinse away the dried blood, the basin slowly becoming tinged pink. His touch was methodical yet tender, each movement calculated to cause you as little discomfort as possible.

"It doesn't appear to need stitches," he murmured, more to himself than to you. "But we'll need to keep it clean to prevent infection."

You hummed in acknowledgment, eyes closed as you focused on the soothing sensation of his fingers massaging your scalp. The sparks that had been hovering nearby drifted closer, their soft blue light reflecting off the water's surface.

When he finished rinsing, Viktor patted your hair dry with a small towel. You straightened, blinking away the droplets that clung to your eyelashes. He cupped your face in his hands, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones as he studied you intently.

"Wait here," he said, releasing you to rummage through the first aid supplies once more. He returned with a small jar of antibacterial cream, unscrewing the lid as he approached.

Viktor's breath was warm against your neck as he leaned in close behind you, carefully applying the cream to the wound. You shivered, not entirely from the coolness of the ointment.

"There," he said softly, his lips nearly brushing your ear. "That should help prevent any infection." His hands lingered on your shoulders, and you could feel the tension thrumming through him - the desire to pull you close warring with his need to be gentle, to avoid causing you further pain.

You turned to face him, your noses nearly touching. "Thank you," you whispered.

Viktor's eyes flickered to your mouth, his lips parting as he leaned in. The kiss was soft, chaste, a gentle press of his lips against yours that sent heat cascading through your body. It was over too soon, leaving you yearning for more, but Viktor pulled away with a small smile.

“You need rest," he said, and you couldn’t agree more.

With gentle hands, Viktor helped you lie back on the bed, tucking the blankets around you. The mattress dipped as he sat beside you, his fingers brushing over your damp hair - careful to avoid the injury - in a soothing gesture. The sparks settled on the pillows around your head, their soft trills a lullaby in the quiet room.

“I don’t know how Charlotte sniffed me out like a hunting dog,” you said into the dark, “but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Ah, yes,” Viktor said, gaze fixed on the uppermost corner of the ceiling. “It was less sniffing and more the concern that if I did not tell her of your arrival, I would lose my head.” 

“You told her?” You crinkled your nose, narrowing your eyes at him. “When did you have time to do that?” 

His gaze flickered back to you, his lips scrunched and pulled to the side. “Telepathically, it’s simple to do while multitasking.” 

Exhausted barely covered what you were feeling, but you were sure your ears hadn’t deceived you. 

“Is that like…what you do when you, uh, borrow their bodies?” 

He tilted his head back and forth, considering. “Eh, in a way. I’m connected to all those I’ve healed, and whether it is borrowing their bodies, as you put it, or communicating, it all stems from that same connection.” 

“Have you ever…” you pressed your lips into a thin line. “Have you ever possessed Charlotte?”

“It’s not possession,” he said with a wry curve to his lips. 

You huffed, waving your hand. “You know what I mean.”

Regarding you for a long moment, he said, “Why do you ask?”

“I’m just…” you sighed, shaking your head. “I’m trying to understand. It’s such a foreign concept, and maybe I’ll never truly get it, but I’d like to try. I want to know what you’re experiencing if you want to share it.” 

For a moment, so brief you almost missed it, his eyes solidified into amber, startling in its intensity. And then it was gone like mist in the early morning sun, lost among the myriad of colours swirling in his irises. 

“I would like that.”

When Viktor told you that morning that he had a surprise he wanted to show you, curiosity had taken hold, only to be strangled when he told you it would have to wait until the evening. 

You’d spent the day following Charlotte around, the woman unwilling to let you out of her sight. Now that your magic was more manageable, you were no longer a threat to those around you. And while you still caught glimpses of those eerie metal masks on the members of the commune, it never lasted long, and with a calm mind, you were able to push past it. The sense of unease that had dogged your steps prickled at the edge of your awareness, but did not tug and claw at your skin like fishing hooks pulling on their prize. 

While you’d been preoccupied with your unravelling mind, Viktor had been able to increase his capacity for healing, and rarely was there ever a newcomer who was not immediately seen. They no longer needed your pain relief, and Charlotte was determined to find another task for you - and introduce you to the new members. 

Serenity exuded from each person Charlotte greeted, like they knew a sort of peace that only existed in one’s dreams. Yet, when you came close, a glimmer of buoyancy would return to their pleasant but placid gazes. 

Strange, but you didn’t have time to examine it thoroughly as Charlotte swept you from person to person. She had you trying all sorts of different occupations, metalwork, knitting, cooking, but if you had any skill at all, your magic flares - as small as they may be - ruined the delicate craft. 

At the end of the day, you had nothing but sore shoulders to show for all your hard work, and a slightly exasperated Charlotte. 

“At least take this,” she’d said, handing you neatly folded fabric. You’d accepted, running your hands over the soft material as you unfurled it. 

A simple off-white, pleated skirt, made by her own hands. A gift, she’d told you, for any special occasions. Her wink had been enough to bring a blush to your cheeks, and she’d given you no time to recover as she shooed you into an unoccupied tent to try it on. 

It flowed smoothly over your thighs, starting beneath your belly button and coming to rest just below your knees. While you’d taken to covering your scars out of fear of other’s reactions - the paler and patchy flesh another reminder of the night you’d almost lost everything - you couldn’t resist how nice it felt to have the fresh air hit your skin. 

As evening fell, you made your way back to the spherical building, the skirt swishing pleasantly around your legs. The commune had quieted, the bustling activity of the day giving way to a peaceful hush.

You entered the building, expecting to find Viktor waiting for you. Instead, you were greeted by an unexpected sight that had you pulling up short.

Viktor was suspended, floating in midair, his body wreathed in a web of wires and cables. They swam languidly around him like luminous vines, glowing with a distorted blue and pink light. His eyes were closed, face set in deep concentration, and he seemed oblivious to your presence - though you doubted that was the case.

"Viktor?" you called out. "What are you doing?"

His eyes fluttered open, iridescent irises focusing on you. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Working," he replied simply, as if floating in a swirl of wires was the most natural thing in the world.

You rolled your eyes, a fond smile spread across your face. "I can see that. Care to elaborate?"

Viktor's forehead pinched slightly, trying to find the right words. "I'm…integrating with the building's systems. Expanding my connection to the commune."

You nodded, pretending to understand even though you were still utterly bewildered. The sparks seemed drawn to Viktor, floating lazily towards him before bouncing off an invisible barrier.

"How long will this, uh, work take?" you asked, glancing around for somewhere to sit.

Viktor's eyes glazed over for a moment, as if consulting some internal clock. "A while yet. You're welcome to stay, if you'd like."

"I'll wait," you said, sliding down the wall to sit. "After all, you promised me a surprise."

Viktor's smile widened slightly before his eyes drifted closed again, his focus returning to whatever mysterious task he was performing.

You leaned back, and as you waited, you let your mind wander. So much had changed in such a short time, and yet, sitting there in that strange room, you felt an unexpected sense of peace. You had your magic under control, Viktor was alive and well, and you had a community that accepted you for who you were. If only you could find out what happened to that little girl from the rally too, then you may be able to relax fully.

Though your peace only lasted so long, and after a few hours of sitting there, you’d begun to reach your limit. Your backside ached from the hard ground and your impatience had reached new levels, your irritation spiking with it.

“The suspense is killing me,” you groaned, flopping your arms dramatically. 

“All in good time, Milá.” Viktor grinned impishly and you glared at him. He was enjoying this, revenge for your sudden departure. It was the least that you deserved, but that didn’t mean you had to like it. 

You grumbled under your breath, shifting uncomfortably on the hard floor. "A little hint wouldn't kill you, you know."

Viktor's eyes crinkled at the corners, but he remained suspended in his glowing wires. "Patience is a virtue."

"So is mercy." You scowled, but settled back against the wall, resigning yourself to wait.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the wires began to retract. Viktor descended slowly, his feet touching the ground with a gentle grace. He stretched, working out the stiffness in his muscles, before turning to you.

"Ready?" he asked, extending his hand.

You took it, allowing him to pull you to your feet. "I've been ready for hours," you said dryly, but couldn't keep the excitement from sparkling in your eyes.

Viktor led you out of the building and into the night. The commune was quiet, most of its inhabitants asleep.

As you rounded a corner, your breath caught in your throat. Before you stood a structure that seemed to glow in the moonlight - a greenhouse made of glass and metal. Its crystalline windows reflected the stars, creating a shimmering, ethereal effect.

Viktor squeezed your hand gently. "Shall we?"

He guided you to the entrance, pushing open a delicate glass door. As you stepped inside, the warm and humid air hit you, balmy like a beach vacation. Lush foliage filled every corner, from delicate magnolias to towering palms. Vines climbed up trellises, their flowers glowing faintly in the dim light. Everywhere you looked, there was life.

“Viktor, this is beautiful,” you said, eyes wide with awe. “Did you do this?” 

He shrugged. “I had help.” 

“Modest, as always.” Locking your arm around his, you pulled him further in.

Exotic orchids hung from the ceiling, their petals a riot of colours - vibrant purples, fiery oranges, and deep crimsons. Their heady perfume mingled with the earthy scent of moss and rich soil. To your left, a small stream trickled over smooth river rocks, feeding into a pond where lily pads floated lazily on the surface. And at the end of it all, tucked in the back behind a monstrous fern, sat a secluded bench, perfect for admiring the scenery.

“Was there a reason you made all this or was it just for fun?” A spark drifted from your pocket, heading lazily towards a budding flower like a strangely coloured bumble bee. 

With a gentle nudge, he turned you to face him, lithe fingers drawing little circles across your palm. “There is so much of this commune I would like to share with you, but until you stabilized your magic, I did not see a way how.” 

Head bowed, he turned your hand over, exposing your inner wrist and the faint pink veins visible beneath. “I couldn’t remove the Shimmer that I put there, and you were suffering. I could help all these people, except for the one that I love most.” 

“We talked about this.” Hooking your finger beneath his chin, you brought his gaze up to meet yours. “I don’t expect or need you to solve this.” 

He smiled, melancholy falling across his sharp features like droplets of rain. “I remember, but I couldn’t do nothing. I wanted you to have a place you could go to outside of our room, somewhere you could feel safe and be alone. I thought plants may do the trick.” 

Your jaw slackened, incredulousness to the wide set of your eyes. “You built this for me?”

“That is what I said, isn’t it?” He was teasing you now, but you barely registered it.

Launching yourself into his arms, you kissed him fiercely, pressing all your gratitude and affection into the slant of your lips against his. Viktor stumbled back a few steps step, caught off guard, but he quickly regained his balance, hands instinctively reaching out to steady you.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, Viktor stared at you, his usually pale cheeks flushed a light pink.

"I take it you like the greenhouse," he said, his voice slightly husky.

“You built this place so I’d have somewhere to lose my mind in peace?” You held his face in your hands, the sparks circling around you both like a halo. “That sounds like something only a besotted fool would do.” 

He laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest and into yours, a pleasant vibration that had goosebumps rising along your arms. “Guilty as charged.” 

Viktor leaned in, his lips meeting yours once more. This kiss was different from the first - softer, slower, like you had all the time in the world. His hands cradled your cheeks, thumbs brushing gently across your skin as he deepened the kiss. You melted into him, your fingers tangling in the soft fabric of his robes.

But with reluctance, he pulled back.

“There is something else I should share with you. Though it is not necessarily as exciting of a reveal.” He pressed his lips into a flat line and tugged you towards the secluded bench. 

Sitting beside him, you waited patiently as he gathered his thoughts, his neck bent and head ducked. He held your hands in his, resting on his lap, his thumbs ghosting over the dexterous tendons. 

“I apologize for not telling you earlier, but it wasn’t until your disappearance that I knew for sure.” 

You cringed, guilt and worry churning in your gut like you’d swallowed a jug of acid. “A little ominous there, Viktor.” You chuckled warily. “Is everything okay?” 

He looked up at you then, lips parting as he took in the concerned tilt of your mouth and the tightness in your jaw. “It is now,” he said softly, his barely there smile settling your unease. 

Scooting closer, your hips pressed side-by-side, he said, “It would seem that when I’m not in your presence, my emotions are muted. It is difficult to explain. They are still there, but buried beneath a serenity that does not feel entirely my own.” 

Your forehead creased and you bit the inside of your cheek. “You think my magic, what, heightens your feelings?” 

“Your magic, or perhaps just you, it ‘s hard to say.” And perhaps sweeter than he realized, that he would even consider the notion that it was simply you that made him feel again. “Though it isn’t a heightening, it ‘s more like reversing the dampening that comes with my enhancements.” 

You didn’t love the sound of that, but you had no idea what to do about it - other than stay with him at all times, though not a practical solution. “Does it upset you?” 

“It is rather numbing, so no, it does not,” he answered plainly. 

“No, that’s not what I meant.” You squeezed his hands, struggling to find the words to express yourself. “Does me returning your feelings back to how they were bother you? I just,” you exhaled, shaking your head, “I know what it’s like for emotions to take over and be overwhelming, I don’t want you to have to suffer through that.” 

“Milá, I need you to listen to me very carefully,” Viktor spoke with such seriousness you found yourself nodding before you had fully processed what he’d said. “I am not suffering through loving you. You bring me more joy than I would have ever believed possible. I don’t simply need you, I want you.” 

You inhaled a sharp breath, your eyes stinging as you blinked back the tears. “Oh,” you laughed shakily, “is that all?” 

Bringing your hands to his lips and placing kisses across your fingers, he said, “No, but I do not have the vocabulary to express it.” 

Neither did you so you didn’t try, and instead, you kissed Viktor with reverence. Your lips moved against his with deliberate slowness, savouring each point of contact. The warmth of his breath mingled with yours as you traced the curve of his bottom lip with your tongue. Viktor's hands came up to cradle your face, his long fingers grasping the back of your neck as he pulled you closer.

You were the dawn breaking over a world shrouded in darkness, your light chasing away the shadows that had long haunted Viktor's existence. He was the moon, constant and mesmerizing, guiding you through the tumultuous night of your journey. Together, you created an eclipse, two celestial bodies woven together - your magic and his.

Your kisses were stardust, scattering across Viktor's skin and leaving constellations in their wake. His touch was gravity, anchoring you to that moment, that place, that feeling of belonging. You breathed each other in like oxygen, necessary and life-giving.

You were made for each other, and you would stop at nothing to show him exactly what he meant to you.

Smut Chapter

Next Chapter

A/N: Aaaaand we’re onto the second smut chapter! If you’d like to read it, it will be in the companion fic ‘Inarticulation’ (Part 2) by tomorrow at the latest - and I will add the link here when its been posted.

I hope you enjoyed their little date night <3 We are getting into the end game now!

[theoddest1]

Okay so, ima type in what I typed to my friend here.

"Yeah Ima be so dead ass. ||Mel and Ekko carried the final for me, ESPECIALLY Ekko."

Yeah, they should have just kept [Viktor] being Ryze. That made more sense to me than whatever this is. And I am all for mlm rep, but yeah, this felt WAY too, Jayvikky. I liked it better that they were brothers to parallel Vander and Silco, who also found each other and became bros, but it seemed like they went with how popular JayVik was and stuck with it. And Jayce being strung with Viktor for wherever they went felt...kinda nonsensical. I'd rather that Viktor was thwarted and too far gone to then just suddenly have a change of heart and go with Jayce. I imagined that he would have a contingency where he, incase his body was destroyed, would then later rise again to try and enact "Glorious Evolution". It would go well with the themes of his beliefs anyway because every time he dies, he comes back stronger in a new body. I feel like that would better set the ongoing conflict and fit well with the game and why he looks the way he does currently.

I also don't like how quick he and Mel's reunion was considering how much he favored her along with his odd and sudden dislike for her decisions-- Seriously, where did that even come from!?"

[Thought it over further. Him calling her out on her actions isn't the issue. It's the timing and how this transpires that confuses me. He just came from a post-apocalyptic world where Mel, Viktor, and everything else came to mind. The lack of time for them to truly talk made the scene felt out of nowhere and not at all fleshed out. He goes on to place part of the blame on her when literally it wasn't. She DID manipulate but only politically. Everything else was on he and Viktor. Then, when he DOES confront Viktor, the vibes are different. Viktor hurt and caused a chain of events that led to several lives being taken to ensure survival and his "Glorious Evolution", why is this essentially overlooked? Maybe when I review this again, it will make more sense, but as of now, the way Jayce treats both Mel and Viktor is VERY questionable.]

"I would have been pretty happy if He at least gave her a hug, a kiss, something to make their relationship seem consistent with what we were shown. I know that he's been gone for a while and a lot more cold, but this was a very odd direction to go with. I am super happy about Cait and Mel fighting side by side and that Mel may be the main character for a new Noxus related show! [Which I knew they'd set up!] but this series, after seeing it in its entirety, DID suffer too much from the pacing issues. I assumed at the First Act that it was quick paced to go with how they've all been shifted into places they didn't see coming, but the pacing issues continued to bring down the quality. 3 seasons would have made way more sense and would go well with the 3 ACT formula they had used. I hope they learn from this and refrain from making similar mistakes.

[I responded to my friend who posted these images above] I knew they'd make a callback to this line eventually, and I am genuinely surprised people are not catching this obvious set up to Jinx living. Also, I am betting that Heimer did "die" but only that alternate version of himself. [Though obviously I could be wrong, though a life of various lifetimes where he helps each version of the main cast sounds very Heimerdinger of him, especially since he didn't wanna leave.]

The biggest letdown for me has to be Jayce and Viktor's story. It just...doesn't make sense with what we have been shown. Also, if Viktor KNOWS bad shit would happen when bringing Hextech to life and all, why TF would he give it to Jayce then???? Or if he STILL wanted magic to be tampered with shy doesn't he comvince himself in a way HE KNOWS would prevent what happens next, surely NOT EVERY timeline has it where you continue on the path of destruction! You see what I mean!?!? Leave the time crap to Ekko, man. This new inclusion makes no sense! And he does this in VARIOUS timeliness for some reason. Man, I wish it was just a random ass mage or Ryze, this added stuff kinda kills the finale for me🫠

I feel that making Viktor time travel ruins a huge aspect of the story, ngl, especially when Jayce argues that people can "craft their own path." The story also shouldn't have ended with what I could only assume both of them "dying" or traversing time instead. Also, the way Sky was treated and essentially replaced with Jayce feels....very very weeeeird."

[I believe that the ending just didn't land that well. I feel, now thinking over every character, Ekko, Mel, and Jinx carried this season HEAVY. These 3 were the most interesting parts of the season, honorable mention being Singed cause he be doing what he MUST. Also, what was the point of introducing Loris if all he was gonna end up being was a random guy who reminded Vi of Vander? I guess nothing is wrong with this, but when you're already stringing for time, these inclusions make no sense... I liked him, though, RIP Loris🤧. Oh, and Caut barely facing consequences is KINDA CRAZY but it goes with the themes of forgiveness/ acceptance. The Cycle would never end, after all, but yeah Vi and Cait made up WAY too fast and just shows that this needed another season. Let me know your thoughts!]

[viktor-howl]

Viktor!! How are you feeling now that the ball is finally up and rolling? Relieved, I'm sure.

...A lot of us have been wondering where Mr. Onceler is, though...he's taking a bit of a while.

So, the ball.

Well I'm glad you asked! Indeed, the ball is finally here…

Everything is perfectly organized from top to bottom, all the preparations paid off pretty well if I do say so myself!

Not like I was stressing over this the whole morning—

It's all going smoothly so far, probably gonna be a night to remember for everyone!

And… Ah, about bo— Mr. Onceler, yes, uh…

He's… He's probably answering some questions for that blog he has…!

Last I saw him, he was heading to his office, but he should be here in no time, worry not!

… Hm… I do hope everything is going well in the office…

I mean, this morning… This morning, he seemed—

…

“Sir, would you like me to take this away for you?”

... He didn't even look at me when I asked. Was his mind so fogged by thoughts that he couldn't even…? That doesn't matter, though. It was the gaze.

There was something unspoken in his eyes, as he stared at the unfinished wine glass before responding, his voice slightly strained with a groan...

“…Mmmm. I suppose.”

And when he turned away yet again, I just wondered… Did he always look upon the empty ‘valley’ in such a way…? Did he always seem so…

… Lost?

......

.........

Ah. Sorry if I went quiet there. Uhm.

He's gonna be here soon, I'm sure.

I mean, it's his event, he wouldn't miss it...!

[ihopeinevergetsoberr]

Pleaseeeee,i love how you write Viktor so much!!Also,i am ecstatic to still see people writing for our favorie pale victorian child-esque man!How do you feel about a request about tenderness?Maybe someone finding him to be their own little safe haven,even if that means just being in his company?

ask and you shall receive! we love a good dose of fluff <3

cw: viktor x gn!reader, fluff, established relationship, dialogues — because i fucking love writing them. i couldn’t help but fill this with my stupid ass questionable humour — but i hope you darlings don’t mind me being a little silly. didn’t proofread this + i wrote it at 2 am with only one eye open, so don’t hesitate to slap me if i made some stupid mistakes.

wc: 600~

tags: @zaunitearchives @blissfulip

Viktor’s workshop is a sanctuary of some sort, desk a cramped little shrine cluttered with his precious tools, and you wince, absorbing the rhythmic sounds of his scribbling — soothing and steady, mingling so smoothly with the thuds of hail. The absolute misery of the weather has treacherously decided to lock you up in his bizarre chambers — though it didn’t feel like being held hostage: you were a voluntary victim, wholeheartedly willing to spend hours simply watching him tinker. You wouldn’t dare to sneak out even if it did eventually brighten up — who needs sun in a world where Viktor’s eyes exist, warm and museful, orbs the prettiest shade of amber?

He sighs, living up to the proud position of being the most observant man you know, and a sinuous hand nimbly scratches the screwdriver against the nape of his neck — as if he somewhat felt your enamored eyes on the wild knot of shorter hairs sticking out from under the mess of longer ones. Had you worrying that your glances had just accidentally gained the power of giving him itches.

The gesture is charming in its frivolity, though Viktor seems rather unaware of it as he quizzically turns around, thick eyebrows forming a curious arch at your resonant chuckle.

“What?” he mumbles, dragging the last letter with that heavy accented voice — utterly dashing even in his confusion. “Is there something particularly entertaining?”

It takes you a moment to catch your breath — this man might just become the reason for your passing. You can already picture the epitaph — ‘blame my death on Viktor, who was cruel enough to overhumor me to the point of undoing.’ You should definitely demand he makes a joke at your funeral — that way mourning won’t overwhelm everyone present too much.

The thought makes you notice that you must’ve inherited your lover’s view on mortality. That’s a little food of thought for another, less cheerful day.

“Your choice of a… scratching tool is rather unusual, that’s all,” the soft response earns you a wry smile on his behalf — no teeth, just a handsome stretch of slightly chapped lips into a thin line. “You could’ve just asked me to do it for you, you know?”

“I would hate to become a distraction for the foolish purpose of using you as a screwdriver,” he remarks with a hum, nodding in your direction. Though, his concern about disturbing you vanishes the second you step closer, brushing his hair with a gentle stroke of a touch-starved hand, fingers getting stuck in tangled locks, reminding you to use an actual brush on him later.

“Ah, but I wasn’t busy,” you assure him, savouring his barely audible keen as you part the woven together hairs with the softest of tugs. “And I don’t mind becoming your tool for a minute or two. As long as I can be of service.”

“That’s very, eh… thoughtful of you,” he purrs a careful response, visibly savouring the tender gesture — the man is basking in your gentleness, and you’ll gladly offer him every last bit of it. “May I hope for your indulgence in case my tools accidentally become useless?”

He gives you another pretty grin — it’s a toothy one this time, and you stiffen, so endlessly proud of bringing such a wide smile to his usually reserved face.

“Of course,” you respond with a sweet peck, placed precisely on the mole above his chuckling mouth.

Perhaps you should change the epitaph to ‘died of overwhelming love for a certain scientist’. Though, now that you’re thinking about it — the quote is definitely a tad too cheesy for your liking.

[cyanide-mustard]

Chapter 6 ~ I don't have the words to describe (how much you mean to me)

On Ao3:

Chapter 6: How to get back home when you don’t know where home is

Summary:

Morning fluff, and Jayce & Viktor learn more about James' life before Piltover.

Notes:

I gave Viktor and Jayce nicknames. Please forgive me and/or correct me if either of those translations are wrong (I don't speak either of those languages) Drahý = dear in Czech, Viktor's nickname for Jayce Mi luna = my moon in Spanish, Jayce's nickname for Viktor   This week I offer you all fluff and some backstory, in the next couple of chapters after this one they will be a lot more angsty, so get ready! Also thank you all for the comments and likes! I love reading what you all think about the chapters

The next day, Viktor in his sleep daze, got up, walked to James’ room and just stood in front of the door. In his life, he’s had many people come and go, some at their own volition and others not; Like many parts of his body, his heart does not do its job properly; its function is to pass blood throughout his whole body but it has decided it also needs to love. That’s why when he met James he was sent into a panic. From the beginning, he knows she’s going to leave. Viktor understands he has two options: 1) he can close himself off and protect himself from loss and the grief that comes with it–which probably won’t work half as well as he hopes–or 2) he can let himself enjoy the time that she is here for and mourn her when she’s gone but at least not spend the time regretting.  

With a knock on the door, he picks the second.

“James?”

He hears rustling from the other side, then a mumbled ‘come in’.

James had taken all the blankets and wrapped herself in them; her face looked cute small with the big comforter around her but her eye bags had lessened. Viktor was relieved that the sleep had done her good. He walked towards her as she shifted to make space on her bed for him to sit. 

“I was hoping that you might accompany Jayce and I today to a café”

“You want me to come, yes? I am not interrupting” James asks. Viktor has a feeling that she knows the answer but just wants to be affirmed, to be said aloud. 

“Yes, we want you to come with us” As soon as Viktor says these words he can see the relief the reassurance brings her. “Jayce and I were very bored without you at the lab this week,” He says in a teasing tone but the words are honest.

“You must have done a lot of work when I was not there”

Viktor made a non-committal hmmm at her comment as felt his ears tinge pink. He decided to take the focus off him. His eyes shifted to the door as he grinned wickedly, “Jayce waited for you to pass him a wrench for 5 minutes before he remembered you were not there”

Upon hearing this confession, she burst out laughing, and Viktor was just happy to see her laugh. 

“What’s going on?” Jayce asked groggily from the door, hand still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

“I was just telling James all your most embarrassing secrets”

“Oh that’s good Mi cielo” he responded, not computing a word of what the paler man had said. He moved onto the bed and grabbed both of them into his arms. 

“Oof” 

They both landed on his chest. James tried to wiggle out but the man would not budge. Viktor’s face turned red in embarrassment at the younger man’s sleepy actions. 

“Jayce, Drahý, you must let us go” Viktor grumbled.

“Please just 30 more minutes of sleep, then we’ll get up” It wasn’t a question though as Jayce immediately fell back asleep. Seeing no way out (not that she really wanted to get out), Viktor and James go with it and fall back asleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The 30 minutes was closer to an hour, but it was well enjoyed. Jayce woke up first very confused as to how he got there and blushing hard when he realized he was also holding James. He watched them for a second, noticing the small things; James’ relaxed brow and Viktor’s slightly furrowed, the mole near his mouth, the freckle on her cheek, the bridge of his nose, the small faded scar on her jaw. He felt content just lying there for the rest of the day. That was until his stomach growled so loud it woke the other two up. 

There was a sense of timidity in the room but Viktor didn’t let it cement as he pulled Jayce back to their room and told James to get dressed as they were leaving in 20 minutes.  

They go to a café that has an outside terrace overlooking the whole city; James spends the first 5 minutes in awe staring at the city landscape while Jayce and Viktor laugh in amusement at her wide eyes.

“𝝋𝝠𝛴, this city is beautiful, it reminds me of a city in my world” As her eyes rake over the landscape she notices the bridge “What is that?” 

“Ahh that is Zaun, that is where I am from”

“Can we go there?”

“Ehhh…not today, maybe another day. It is not the safest of places for you right now”

They sit down with their respective drinks and food. 

“Mmmm, this is delicious! What is it?” James asks wide-eyed. Jayce explains, watching recognition pass on some ingredients before he makes an offer.

“I can make this at home for you”

“No, no I do not want to make more work for you”

He reaches for her hand, looking her straight in the eyes.

“James there is nothing I’d rather do than make this for you, I want to do this, okay?”

She searches his eyes before responding in her tone of confidence that Jayce enjoys so much. 

“Okay”

While watching this interaction, clarity hits Viktor

“Wait! How is your Piltovian so good?”

“Viktor! You can’t just say that, that’s so rud- wait actually he’s right. You’ve improved so much over such little time”

“Oh eh yeah, in my world I made device that helps you learn language. It was not umm… 𝞔𝞀𝜩𝛃𝞖𝜓𝛴…. Oh trained! It was not trained with Piltovian so it is taking m𝝠re time.”

“You made it? Where is it?” The two men started analyzing James, trying to find the hidden device

“Yes, I made it with my friends and it is here” James flattened her right ear to show a small dark blue circle behind the shell of her ear.

“So you are a scientist?”

“Ummm yes and no, I do science a little but I am not good, my friends are the scientists. I am a …how you say… I study and work with language”

“Oh so you are a linguist”

“Yes, also, for example, I take what someone say in a different language, like 𝝇𝞀𝜓𝞖𝝃𝝺, and say it in English"

“You’re an interpreter too, you translate languages!”

“Yes I am both, I am many things. I made device so people brain learn language not just translate it. Most device in my home translate the other language into your first language but my device adds language to your head. It works like instant language learning and also like umm… dresser? Or bag? It give your head more space to remember”

“Like extra storage?”

“Yes! Exactly! In my home we still can learn language old way, but new way is more easy and now fight and confusion between everyone is less. Example, life for people who can not hear is more easy because now people who hear can ‘speak’ the language” She motions with her hands, “now everyone know sign language, now more people happy”

Now it was the boys turn to stare in awe. 

“What? What did I say wrong?”

“I think you are the coolest person I have ever met” Viktor mutters under his breath. James blushes at his words. Jayce jumps in before Viktor spends the rest of their time singing her praises. 

“Nothing, you said nothing wrong. We’re just, I guess, a little in shock. What you’ve done for your world is amazing, that’s the same thing Viktor and I are trying to do” 

“You have not yet seen Zaun, but it is not like here, it is a place built from struggle. The technology we are trying to create, technology like yours is what we are trying to make… to make life better for them” Viktor adds.

“If I can help in any way…”She looks at the two men.

“That would be greatly appreciated but right now we have to help you” Viktor places a hand on hers. 

“James…How’d you get here?” Jayce questions. 

“I do not know,” She looks solemn when she speaks, “that part of my head I can not see, it is like it is blocked by ummm…” She tries to find the word or words to explain it when she sees the sparse clouds flecking the sky. 

“Clouds? Your head is cloudy?” Viktor offers. 

“Yes! My head is cloudy, when I try to remember more, it only hurts. I remember magic, and I know I am not from this world but that is all”

“The issue of teleportation is difficult enough but teleportation to a different universe… eh… might be difficult to say the least,” Viktor says with a snort

Seeing her defeated look Jayce places his hand on her shoulder, not noticing her small flinch.

“You will figure it out, we’ll help you, it just might take some time”

“I know, when I remember I think I will know how to get home,” She says before adding “I was 𝟄𝞒𝝃𝝥𝞾 to meet you both” 

“We were 𝟄𝝠𝝃𝝥𝞾 to meet you too” Viktor mispronounces the word but James smiles just the same. 

Translations:

𝞔𝞀𝜩𝛃𝞖𝜓𝛴 = trained, 𝝇𝞀𝜓𝞖𝝃𝝺 = French, 𝟄𝞒𝝃𝝥𝞾 = lucky, 𝟄𝝠𝝃𝝥𝞾 = Locky, Drahý = dear in Czech, Mi luna = my moon

Notes:

Please let me know what you think! Any love or feedback is always welcomed!

Taglist: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore

[triptychgrip]

Story Preview: Viktor learning he's not hard to love

To his confusion, Yuuri let out a stilted laugh.

“Agh, well…it’s true that I started reading only last night, but I sort of blazed through a hundred-and-twenty pages somehow?” he admitted, with a touch of sheepishness and an unnecessary adjustment of his glasses. “I was really excited to talk about it with you, and didn’t want to have to wait.”

Viktor felt rooted to the spot, absolutely stunned by this revelation.

Yuuri’s eagerness to discuss Vita Nostra had caused him to read one-hundred-and-twenty pages, already?

In just one night?!

The coach part of Viktor felt like he should chide him for sacrificing sleep, but the idiot-in-love part of him was swiftly winning out, that heady giddiness from when Yuuri had first proposed this idea two weeks ago having returned. He didn’t really know what his face was doing at the moment, but it must have been encouraging, because Yuuri seemed bolstered enough to continue.

“It’s really, really interesting, and I’m not just saying that because it’s one of your favorite books,” he went on, sitting up straighter. “At first, I was so irritated by Sasha, like…why would she just go along with whatever this random stranger was telling her to do?! But then I started to get it, how sinister Farit’s presence is, and then of course when I read about the time loop…”

He listened as Yuuri continued to speak with increasing zeal, his hands beginning to wave about in animation. Though Viktor was processing the words he was hearing (and delighting in his student’s attention to detail), his heart was beating way too rapidly for someone who had been doing nothing but sitting and eating languidly for the last twenty minutes.

He felt like he was falling, falling, falling...

Almost like he truly was tumbling to some bottomless depth, a rushing sound filled his ears, and before long, he was interrupting Yuuri without even meaning to. 

“You really meant it,” Viktor blurted out, exhaling a deep breath when Yuuri stopped short and tilted his head in confusion. “You…when you told me that you wanted to read and discuss a book that I enjoy, you really meant it?”

He felt a bit stupid at the slow, bemused blinks he was met with.

“I…well, of course, Viktor,” Yuuri slowly responded, as if not understanding the question. “Did you think I didn’t mean it?”

But there was nothing accusatory in his tone, only genuine bafflement around whether he had done something for Viktor to doubt his intent.

“I don’t…”

Viktor noisily swallowed and silently shook his head, at a loss for how to explain himself. What could he say that wouldn’t scare Yuuri off, wouldn’t reveal the depth of the fissures in his heart leftover from all the people who had professed an interest in him with pretty words, only to reveal that it was his public luster they were so enamored by, rather than his genuine self?

If given the choice, Viktor would nearly always choose a cozy living room chat about an interesting book over a pulsing, booze-soaked night out, and he had been shown time and time again, how inconvenient this preference was.

---

The above excerpt is from a 'during canon' + 'post-canon' one-shot that I've been working on, which can be summed up by the description: "5 times Viktor learns that he's not so hard to love after all (+1 time he learns that being hard to love might not actually be such a bad thing)". In the scene in question (taking place during Viktor's first summer in Hasetsu), Viktor faces the fact that maybe, unlike his parents or his past boyfriends, Yuuri is being genuine when he seems to take an interest in his hobbies.

Here's hoping that I can actually finish this story -- and the Yuuri counterpart -- before it emotionally wrecks me...

[ofironandivory]

Author's Note: While I'm still learning about the Arcane universe through my mutuals selfships, I truly tried my best to capture the essence of your f/o in this fanfic. If it doesn't quite hit the mark, I completely understand and would not be upset with you for saying so /gen

You’re sitting on the edge of a wooden bench in Viktor’s lab, cradling a mug of coffee that’s long gone cold by now. The room hums with the low whirr of machinery and the faint, rhythmic ticking of a clock, though you doubt Viktor has noticed the passage of time. He’s hunched over his desk, his gaunt face illuminated by the soft, eerie glow of the hextech core resting beside him.

You shift your gaze to him, your heart twisting at the sight of his thinning frame and the weariness that clings to him like a second skin. He hasn’t slept in days, maybe longer, and it shows in the trembling of his hands and the dark crescents under his eyes.

“Viktor,” you call softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t respond, too engrossed in his notes, his mind chasing some elusive answer to a question only he can see. You set the cup down and rise, the cool stone floor chilling your bare feet as you approach him.

“Viktor,” you say again, firmer this time, resting a hand on his shoulder. He jolts slightly, as if your touch has brought him back from some far-off place.

“Emerie,” he murmurs back at you, his voice raspy and tired. His amber eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you see a flicker of something — guilt, perhaps, or the fragile remnants of the man you fell in love with.

“You need to rest,” you say, your tone gentle but unwavering.

“There is no time for rest,” he replies, his accent thick and his words laced with frustration. “Not when we are so close to a breakthrough. Do you not see? This… this could change everything.”

His gaze shifts to the hexcore, reverence and desperation mingling in his expression. You feel a pang of sorrow, knowing how much of himself he’s sacrificed for this pursuit.

“I see,” you say quietly, crouching so you’re at eye level with him. “But I also see you, Viktor. And I see what this is doing to you.”

He exhales sharply, turning away as if he can’t bear to face your concern.

“I do this for progress, for a better future,” he says, though there’s a crack in his voice that betrays his uncertainty. “For people like me who—”

“For people like you?” you interrupt, your tone sharper than you intended it to be. “You mean people who are kind, brilliant, and stubborn beyond belief? People who deserve a life outside of this lab, a life with—”

You stop yourself, the words catching in your throat. With me you think to yourself. It's all you want from him really.

He flinches, his hands clenching into fists. “I do not have that luxury, Emerie. You know this. I cannot afford to…”

“To be human?” you finish for him, your voice softening.

The silence that follows is heavy, the only sound the faint hum of the hexcore. You reach out, cupping his cheek with one hand, and he leans into your touch almost instinctively despite trying his best not to.

“You are human, Viktor,” you say, your voice trembling with emotion. “And it’s not a flaw. It’s not something you need to fix or evolve past.”

His eyes close, and for a moment, he allows himself to rest against your hand. When he opens them again, there’s a vulnerability there that takes your breath away.

“I do not wish to lose myself,” he admits, his voice barely audible. “But I fear I already have.”

“You haven’t,” you say firmly, your fingers brushing against the sharp angle of his jaw. “I’m here. I’ll always be here to remind you.”

He reaches up, his hand covering yours, and for the first time in what feels like weeks, you see the faintest hint of a smile.

“Emerie,” he whispers, his voice heavy with gratitude and something deeper, something unspoken. “You… you have grounded me in ways I cannot explain.”

You smile, though it’s tinged with sadness yet an undeniable love for the man in front of you. “And you make me see the world differently, Viktor. In ways I never thought possible.”

The moment stretches between you, fragile and precious, before he finally pulls away, his gaze flickering to the hexcore.

“I will rest,” he says, though you know it’s a compromise rather than a promise. “For a while.”

“That’s all I ask,” you reply, helping him to his feet.

As you guide him to the worn couch tucked in the corner of the lab, you can’t shake the weight of the unspoken words between you. You don’t know how long you can keep him tethered to his humanity, but for now, you’ll hold on as tightly as you can.

And as he drifts into a restless sleep, his head resting on your lap, you whisper a silent vow: You’ll fight for him, for the man beneath the scientist, the man you feel in love with, no matter how hard it was at times.

[mariacallous]

Georgia's EU crossroads - This Is Europe, The Guardian

Georgia stands at a democratic crossroads – and that’s a problem for the EU, too

A contested vote that returned Georgian Dream to power is dragging the country back into Moscow’s orbit.

How do you solve a problem like Georgia – and, of course, Viktor? One of the most pro-western former Soviet states went to the polls last weekend in a watershed election that may set it on an altogether more authoritarian, Russia-aligned path.

After 30-odd years of pro-western aspiration, with polls showing 80% of its residents in favour joining the EU, its government, led by the populist, far-right Georgian Dream (GD), has been steadily dragging the country back into Moscow’s orbit.

At stake, as Kornely Kakachia of the Georgian Institute of Politics told Pjotr Sauer, is whether Georgia “becomes a sovereign democracy integrated with the west, or falls back into Russia’s sphere of influence” as, potentially, a one-party state.

GD is headed by Georgia’s prime minister, Irakli Kobakhidze, but the puppet-master who has spent a decade masterminding its pivot to Russia and away from the EU is the party’s shadowy founder, billionaire Bidzina Ivanishvili, profiled by Pjotr here.

Georgia’s electoral commission duly declared the ruling party won 54% of the vote – a result that the pro-western opposition forcefully rejected, accusing GD of a “constitutional coup” achieved through intimidation and coercion.

International observers from bodies including the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe and the EU reported multiple incidents of threats, physical violence and harassment of voters – but stopped short of saying the elections had been stolen or falsified.

Georgia’s pro-EU president, Salome Zourabichvili, refused to recognise the results, saying the country had fallen victim to a “Russian special operation … a total rigging, a total robbery”. Thousands took to the streets of the capital, Tbilisi, in protest.

But it is unclear whether the opposition will be able to galvanise enough support for fresh elections, as it has demanded – or what kind of backing it can expect from the EU, for whose leaders the election results pose a significant problem.

The EU’s top diplomat, Josep Borrell, along with the French and German foreign ministries, slated “significant election irregularities” and urged a full investigation, and Poland’s foreign ministry said the bloc “must stand with Georgia”.

But Hungary’s illiberal prime minister, Viktor Orbàn – whose Christian-conservative, family-values, Moscow-friendly, nativist-authoritarian playbook GD has essentially adopted – hailed an “overwhelming victory” and headed straight for Tbilisi.

With Hungary holding the rotating six-month EU presidency, that drew a stinging rebuke from 13 member states – including France, Germany and Poland – who criticised Orbàn’s visit as premature and stressed he did not represent the bloc.

The Hungarian leader has form: at the start of Hungary’s presidency in July, he visited Kyiv, Moscow, Beijing and Donald Trump’s Mar-a-Lago on a so-called peace mission. Orbàn’s visit to Tbilisi guarantees Georgia will loom large in an informal summit of EU leaders in Budapest next week.

The EU is used to Orbàn’s divisive antics. But the question of how to proceed with Georgia is existential. (The country was granted candidate membership status last year, though its application was then paused in response to a controversial Russia-inspired “foreign agents” bill passed in May.)

Elections in Moldova last week and Georgia have provided yet further evidence – although Moscow denies it – of a concerted and well-funded effort by Vladimir Putin to reverse eastern Europe’s decades-long march westwards.

How should the EU respond to what a Guardian editorial called “a dismal sign of the times”? Washington has gone as far as sanctioning GD members. On Wednesday, the Commission said it would “not be in a position to consider recommending opening membership negotiations” unless Georgia changes course. Commission president Ursula von der Leyen could well come under pressure to go further.

For the moment, wrote Natalia Antelava, “the biggest winner is the Kremlin, which has just won a battle in its global war against liberal democracy. Georgia’s opposition is unlikely to succeed unless it gets focused attention from Europe and the US.”

However, she concluded: “With the tragedy that has enveloped the Middle East, the drama of the US elections, and the urgency of the increasingly unsustainable war in Ukraine, events in Georgia will struggle to compete for attention.”

[kuunibal]

Please don’t worry about how quickly you respond—I truly don’t mind at all. After all, I’m the one reaching out, so if anyone should be worrying, it’s me, haha. One of my friends takes even longer to reply, if that makes you feel better.

The word was “lak” (I think? My memory is questionable). They explained to me that it’s meant to be a derogatory slang term in the country I’m currently living in. I’m not sure if it’s used worldwide, though, haha.

Gaslighting myself happens when I need to take action but can’t. I use self-deception, convincing myself to push through tasks or meet goals. I’m tricking myself into believing something that isn’t entirely true to make progress—like thinking, “if I don’t do this, certain consequences, such as this and that, will happen,” when in reality, that’s not true at all.

Dexter’s habit of avoiding conflict is relatable. The poor man truly needs people who understand him without him needing to explain himself—which made his brother’s death particularly difficult for me—at least initially? I think he’d stay guarded at first, but over time, he’d start opening up once he realised that his vulnerability won’t be judged as harshly as he fears. I also find his subtle—well, subtle in a sociopathic sense—love for his sister to be really admirable.

I also thought his brother died too quickly, though I wasn’t entirely surprised. Dexter was caught between choosing him or his sister, and in the end, he deliberately chose his sister. One could see that as selfless, perhaps. He had the opportunity to build a life with someone who truly understood him, yet he chose his sister instead. But was it really selflessness? Or was it simply a reflection of the affection he felt for her, which he didn’t seem to have for his brother? It’s a very complicated matter, I think.

And yes, I finished watching Arcane! Well, first of all, I actually really thought Viktor was dead at the end of Act II, so I was surprised and delighted to see him return in Act III. I found his character development a tad amusing because he has an unhealthy amount of parallels to my favourite character from BSD, which made me predict almost anything he did and what happened to him. The Powder/Vi/Vander plotline was very heartbreaking—they deserved so much better. I liked Jayce’s heroism, and I liked the parallel universe aspect. Did you notice the intro always slightly changing, by the way? I would’ve skipped it after watching it once if my brother didn’t force me to watch it every single time, hahaha.

Somehow, the series began as a political and social dilemma, grappling with issues of power and inequality, but eventually evolved into a blend of witches, mages, alchemy, and magic-infused technology. All mixed in a pot—and somehow, it worked.

Interesting, I do believe "lak" is a regional slang term (Germany, if memory serves me right?), but now I am curious about the definition.

I imagine having false consequences as an incentive would be stressful, seeing how you utilise fear as your primary motivating force. Perhaps motivating yourself with a reward rather than a perceived punishment would be less emotionally taxing, assuming you haven't tried that already?

I believe there are many reasons why Dexter killed his brother, and it definitely is complicated. Dexter almost threw 20+ years of the Code away and told Brian, "Yes. I’m ready to join you. But I won’t kill Deb. I’m very fond of her. Perhaps if Brian was a little less possessive and allowed her to live, he and Dexter could have run off together being Murder Brothers. Dexter loved his sister, but he was very nearly willing to leave her until Brian forced Dexter's hand and ultimately prioritised his own vision over Dexter's wants by attempting to kill her himself (twice, for that matter), essentially trying taking away Dexter's ability to choose any other option but him.

I think Dexter did hold affection for Brian, seeing how he was upset that he "had" to kill him and held no enjoyment in the act the way he did with his usual victims. It even bothered him so much that he had difficulty killing people after. Dexter wanted to be free so bad, but he also cared about Debra. His brother's conditions were too black and white, and Dexter ultimately could not fully embrace his true self with him if it meant killing her.

Yes, Arcane is a uniquely beautiful and incredibly well-made show. I have been forcing my coworkers to watch it. I didn't notice the intro changing (I skipped it after watching it once as well), but I saw comparison videos of all of the hidden shots. There are so many details, Easter eggs, and story even with background characters who don't have dialogue. I am both inconsolable about the ending and in awe. I don't know how familiar you are with the characters outside of Arcane, but there is an endearing official short story League of Legends has for Viktor.

[royalhausblack]

I miss your one shots. Can you do a small one on the Yule ball… dramione of :)))

Yes, yes, and yes! I haven’t written in far too long, and I can positively say that this has taken me out of retirement. Please let me know if I should extend this little piece of Drabble further ;)

Here goes nothing, please be kind, it’s my first story in months!

••••••

Winner Winner

“I’m glad that you’re taking this a little more seriously than what you originally had said, but tell me why you’re…stressing over it?”

Ginny wasn’t one to make ridiculous observations. No, Ginny was always right about her observations and what they meant.

Often times, this would be a great relief for Hermione - if she ever felt like she needed a truthful explanation or opinion, she knew Ginny was the exact person to get it from. But today, this only made her angry.

“However do you mean, Ginny?” Hermione sighed loudly as she began playing with her hair.

It was the night of the Yule Ball, and Hermione was indeed, stressing. She had agreed to go with Viktor Krum as his date, but only because the person she truly had wanted to go to the Ball with was… well, it doesn’t matter.

“Look at you,” Ginny exacerbated. “You look like you’ve lost your mind! I get that you’re going with none other than Viktor Krum, but surely he liked you before all of this… stuff.” Ginny pointedly look at Hermione whose face had swelled up red in frustration.

Hermione glared at Ginny. But she was right.

“You’re right.”

“I know I am-

“But what if he thinks I’m… you know? Nothing but brains.” Hermione shyly admitted, looking down at the wooden floors in their Gryffindor Common Room. “I mean, he’s now one of the most prominent figures at our school, and everyone thinks he’s so devilishly handsome… what if he doesn’t think I’m pretty enough.”

“Oh ‘Mione. He’d be a real blind prat if he doesn’t see how gorgeous you are - with or without the hair and make up!” Ginny embraced her friend, the smell of strawberry and lavender infiltrated her surroundings and for what felt like the first time that night, Hermione was a little less stressed.

Only a little, she’d say.

Because she’s not talking about her date. She was talking about a very devilishly handsome Hogwarts student who had come back to Hogwarts that year, looking very different and very handsome. Not only had he grown into his pointed nose and striking jawline, but he was now a little less– frustrating. That year, he hadn’t made fun of her, in fact, she would catch him staring at her in class often times. This week, in total, it had been five times. Twice in potions when she had answered a question, once in divination when she was getting her quill from her bag, once during dinner and once in the library.

At first, she had assumed it was nothing but an accident. But it had been happening more and more frequently, and everytime she’d catch him, he’d hold her stare for a second longer and turn away. She couldn’t help that her cheeks started to glow red when this happened and she couldn’t understand why. But, now, she knew.

It was the same way every girl looked at Viktor, she looked at Draco.

She hadn’t told anyone, not even Ginny.

And she certainly couldn’t mention the fact that she had bumped into him, either.

5 days ago.

She had been out in the library late at night, Professor McGonogall had provided her with a pass to access the library past curfew to help Harry with his tasks if need be. As she was leaving the library, she bumped into him. He was wearing his Slytherin uniform, and she remembers his jumper smelling distinctively like rich cologne and peppermint.

“Sorry.” She had muttered, looking up at him as she moved herself away. His cloudy eyes looked deep into her ones, almost as though he was searching them.

“You keep staring at me in class, Granger.” He smirked. Her face had grown red.

“Only because I catch you staring at me first!” She responded through gritted teeth.

His smirk widened and he leaned in, their noses almost brushing, leaving Hermione to gasp at their closeness.

“Oh, yeah? Let’s see who cracks first.”

“What does that even mean?”

His eyes trailed down to her lips and back up to her eyes. She thought he would’ve kissed her, but instead, he walked away - leaving her mind is shambles and her heart racing.

Ever since that day, she was adamant to not look at him, despite feeling his eyes on her. But it failed. She couldn’t help it. And that’s when she started noticing her cheeks feeling hot and heavy when their eyes caught.

“I’ll see you down there, ‘Mione.”

Hermione nodded. She looked at herself once more in the mirror, placed her wand in her sleeve that had an extendable charm, and left to the Ball.

She could hear people chatting and shoes clattering against the tiles, and couldn’t help but smile to herself. He would see her today - in a way he never had before - and that was oddly terrifying but also positively exciting. As she rounded the corner, she bumped into someone.

Rich cologne and peppermint. Again.

She looked up at him, his grey clouds inhabiting his eyes widened - raking over her figure. He looked back up at her and she noticed his cheeks too went a little red.

“Sorry.” He muttered. She took the time to look over his dress robes. He looked dashing, yet like a rich aristocrat who knew he was too good to be in her presence. In saying that, would that kind of person say sorry to her?

She knew she had to be brave and bold. For far too long has he been inhabiting her mind and forcing her to act foolishly around him. She decided to take a leap, but before she could, he leaned in, their noses brushing the time around.

“It’s me.” He whispered to her, his eyes softening for the first time ever. “I’ve cracked.”

And he leant in.

Ha, she thought.

She wins again.