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spatialwave · 5 months ago

Note

.........can I request a smutty part 2 of the jayvik x reader fic 🥺

"my ambition" - part two

pairing: jayvik x fem!reader word count: 1.8k tags: mdni! smut (very explicit and shameless), polyamory, threesome, unprotected sex, dirty talking, doggy style, face riding, vaginal sex, blowjobs, cunnilingus, minor aftercare, no use of y/n. notes: i was in the middle of writing it when this ask came in. you read my mind, lol. i may have rushed it and idk if i love it lots but i tried!! ahhh!! credit: art by @/shuploc & divider by @/cafekitsune <- part 1 | part 3 ->

Two mouths left traces over your body—one tender and soft, the other eager and full of energy. Jayce and Viktor had woven themselves deep into your life, leaving a last imprint on your soul. Those two were everything you could ask for, gentle when you sought comfort and tough when you begged more.

“God,” you trembled as your legs spread, Jayce’s lips trailing down your skin until his tongue met with your folds. Your thighs squeezed on either side of his head, and your bottom lip was trapped between your teeth, but the attempt to muffle your sounds didn’t last.

You were leaned back against Viktor, nestled between his legs and resting on his chest. Slender fingers toyed with your breasts, pinching at your nipples in tandem with the way Jayce sucked on your clit. Slow and monotonous, making sure that they could savour the sickly sweet sounds that came from your parted lips.

They loved to torture you. Slow and steady until you were a writhing mess.

“Too much?” Viktor asked, the accent thick on his tongue as his lips brushed against the shell of your ear.

“No,” you lied, squirming your hips, but Jayce’s hands kept you pinned to the bed.

His amber eyes flickered up, watching the way you wriggled from his touch. Lapping at your cunt and tasting the sweet juices that dripped down his chin.

A heat stirred in his belly as he watched Viktor’s experienced hands cradle the swell of your breasts, massaging them and twisting your nipples with his index and thumbs. One of his hands pulled from your hips, meeting where his mouth had been and easily slipping two fingers inside you—wet and inviting.

“Good,” Viktor praised, kissing at your neck. His teeth nipped at your skin, licking where he left tiny bruises, “tell Jayce how well he’s doing.”

You were breathless, your walls clenching around the two digits that plunged in and out of your aching heat. “Good, you feel so good,” you croaked, head tilted to the side as Viktor’s warm breath sent shivers down your spine, tickling your skin, “don’t stop—“

“You heard her, Jayce,” Viktor’s spoke, his voice deep in his throat, “don’t stop.”

Your eager lover pulled back from between your legs and continued to finger you with little remorse for your sensitivity, while Viktor’s finger replaced his tongue on your clit. You could see the lustful look in his eyes, how your wetness brought a shine to his stubble-covered chin. His eyes bored into yours, half-lidded, as his fingers curled just right.

Your head tilted back to rest on Viktor’s shoulder, a cry escaping your lips as your cunt was stretched by the fingers inside you. He kept a gentle rhythm over your swollen clit, whispering sweet nothing's in your ear as both men kept you pleased.

Jayce leaned forward, unable to keep himself from crashing his lips against Viktor’s, the sound of their wet kiss loud in your ear and making you twitch. The man behind you moaned, tasting you on the other’s lips, tongues dancing and sliding together. Savouring the taste and loving each other as much as they loved you.

Tired eyes flickered to them, head tilting to watch the display of passion as a lazy smile sprawled across your lips.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Jayce noticed your gaze–utterly fucked out from his fingers.

“Look at her. So fucking beautiful,” he breathed as he pulled away from Viktor, a string is spit connecting their lips. Jayce stopped the rhythmic movements of his fingers, and you whined at the sudden emptiness when he pulled away, but you were unable to make any more sounds when the two digits were pushed between your lips, “taste.”

Viktor shuddered, his cheeks burning red as he watched the way you licked and sucked at Jayce’s fingers until they were clean. His erection was hard against your lower back, aching for some form of stimulation. Anything.

You sucked on the two fingers like it was a show, your tongue wrapping around the length as you took them in fully–easily. Knowing very well that the sight of you was enough to rouse excitement from them both.

“Fuck,” Jayce hissed as he pulled his fingers from your mouth, his cock upright and twitching in anticipation, “On your hands and knees. Now.”

You were slow to obey, which he hadn’t appreciated. A pair of rough hands grabbed at your hips and were quick to lift them up once you had settled into the position.

Meanwhile, Viktor, as gentle as ever, pushed a hand through your hair so it was out of your face. He wore a lopsided smile, looking at you so lovingly, a drastic difference from the way Jayce handled you–and you were so fucking lucky to have both.

“Go on,” Viktor cooed at you knowingly, and you did exactly what he was urging.

Fingers tightened in your hair as your hand flattened against the sheets beneath you, and you dipped down. Your other hand gently held the base of his cock as your tongue licked at the tip where a bead of pre-cum had rested.

Viktor’s eyes rolled back at the mere sight of you.

Jayce’s hands grazed over the globes of your ass, squeezing at the flesh as he pressed against your soaked entrance, teasing. You closed your eyes, focused on wrapping your lips around Viktor’s erection and taking it deep in your throat, swallowing around him with ease.

“You’re hungry for it, aren’t you? So fucking easy for me,” Jayce groaned the vulgar words, watching as his cock disappeared inside you and his fingers squeezed your ass hard enough to leave reddened marks in their wake.

A rugged hum vibrated from your chest, hips shifting as he set up a quick tempo of thrusts that he hadn’t given you any time to prepare for.

“Fuck,” you squealed, Viktor’s cock leaving your lips with a ‘pop’.

His cock pierced deep inside you, rough enough that your eyes rolled into the back of your head, and Viktor leaned forward from the pillows to pepper kisses on your cheeks. A distraction from the waves of pain and pleasure that coursed through your body as you were stretched, a feeling he knew very well.

Jayce groaned, his eyes focused downward and watching the way your cunt tightened around him. Sliding in and out in a quick rhythm that left you white-knuckling the bedsheets beneath your bouncing breasts.

“A perfect little cunt,” he moaned, a hand tight on your hip and the other pushing his hair back as he watched in admiration as you focused your attention on Viktor once more with the little energy you had left. Your head bobbed up and down, swallowing around him as your tongue massaged the underside of his cock–a perfect view for Jayce as he watched the way Viktor’s face twisted in pleasure, an arm resting over his eyes and rosy cheeks.

Both men moaned together, orgasms ramping up quickly.

Viktor gasped, fingers tight in your hair and causing you to whine, “stop–” he warned, teetering on the edge of release sooner than he’d like.

“Let her,” Jayce grunted, whining after a particularly rough snap of his hips, “I’m so fucking close.”

A few beats later, they moaned your name together, the sound sweet to your ears. Swelling your chest with pride and stroking your ego far too much.

Viktor couldn’t stop from bucking deep into your throat, muttering out a quiet apology as he came, honey eyes peeking from under his arm as you swallowed with practiced ease. You pulled away, panting as Jayce thrust inside you one final time, hips jerking as your squeezing cunt milked him.

“You did good,” Viktor murmured under his breath, smiling against your lips as you mewled when Jayce pulled his cock from you. He cupped your cheek, pulling back as his thumb brushed against your cheek, “you can finish now.”

Jayce acted on those words–always having been the one with enough energy to put you two to shame.

He shifted until he was laying on his back beneath you, arms wrapping around your thighs from behind and guiding you with a strong hand on your lower stomach until you were upright. You gasped when his lips connected with your cum-filled cunt, tongue swiping out to flick at your sensitive clit.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimpered.

Viktor leaned back against the pillows, watching with tired eyes and a lazy smirk. Much too tired to participate, but more than happy to watch Jayce make a mess of you.

“Jayce,” you whined, your hips rocking as your eyes fluttered shut, and his tongue tasted every inch of you. The pressure of his face against your swollen cunt was all you needed to feel the heat beginning to coil in your abdomen. A high you’d been chasing all night.

Both of his hands trailed along the tops of your thighs, nails raking against your skin. He wanted to do everything for you, to let you feel the pleasure you’d so lovingly provided them with.

His tongue delved deep inside you, and his nose brushed at your clit simultaneously; after a few more rolls of your hips at the perfect angle… you were there.

You cried out his name, your voice cracking as your body shuddered, and you chased the high by gripping your hands in his hair and grinding against him like he was nothing more than just a toy for your pleasure. Jayce kept up with your needs, his chin pushing up so he could fuck you better with his tongue, easing you through the orgasm that had you gasping for air.

You whined as you fell forward when the orgasm reached its height, hips violently twitching as you forced yourself away from Jayce’s mouth and crawled into Viktor’s inviting arms and laid atop him. A whimpering mess that was calmed by gentle caresses and fingers trailing up and down your spine.

A low chuckle bubbled up from Jayce’s chest as he wiped his wet mouth with the back of his hand, moving until he was collapsed onto the pillows next to you both.

“I’m spent,” he groaned, pulling the blankets over the three of you.

“You’re spent?” you sighed, “I’m the one who’s going to be sore for a week.”

“And yet, you are the one who begged us all night for this,” Viktor chimed in, a curious look in his eyes as he watched you. The fingers that were on your spine had found your hair, twirling it in his fingers, “I’m joking. Mostly.”

A giggle left your lips as you looked between your lovers, two sets of amber eyes that always made you shy.

“I know. I’m the worst, aren’t I?” You mumbled, sleep creeping up as you felt Jayce roll onto his side and toss an arm over your waist, his face pressed against Viktor’s shoulder as he fell asleep almost instantly.

“Mhm,” Viktor hummed, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head, “terribly so.”

#arcane fanfic #viktor x reader #jayce talis x reader #arcane x reader #arcane #jayce talis #viktor arcane #am i cooked for writing two fanfics in one day #wordsbyspatial #spatialanswers #jayce talis x you #viktor x you

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honey-tongued-devil · 5 months ago

Text

[Arcane preference] with a s/o with a mental issues pt.2 (the big sad)

Requests with sensitive themes are reposted with names that hint at the topic but aren’t explicit, to avoid censorship. On another note, I’m taking advantage of this post to promote myself and let you know I’m working on a mini-series of Arcane posters. Right below the "read more" line, you’ll find the link to two drawings and my other socials if you’d like to follow me elsewhere! Enjoy!

Jayce:

- The panic man, but not in this scenario.

- He usually notices a crisis brewing before it’s too late, and when he picks up on the signs, he intervenes immediately.

- He’ll take you out for a walk to get some fresh air, clean the house thoroughly, and make sure to open the windows to keep everything well-ventilated.

- Breakfast? In bed. Lunch? Strategically either at your favorite spots or something he cooks himself—things he knows you can’t resist.

- If the crisis worsens, he’ll help you with dressing, making the bed, and even brushing your teeth if necessary, without making you feel bad about it.

- He refuses to let you languish and is convinced that fresh air, a refreshed you, and clean, fragrant clothes will help you feel better much faster.

- Get ready for some storytelling from any fairytale book he can get his hands on.

Viktor:

- He completely understands what you’re going through and notices it fairly quickly.

- Viktor will be the first to personally help you while also suggesting someone who could support you—not because you’re a burden but because he genuinely wants you to feel better.

- There’s no shame in asking for a little help.

- Whether you’re up for it or not, he won’t push you, but he’ll try to stay as close as possible.

- He insists on boundaries, though. Not hungry? At least two full meals a day.

- Struggling with hygiene? He’ll buy you wipes, and if needed, he’ll assist you with washing.

- He doesn’t want you to neglect your tasks, self-care, or well-being for fear that it might worsen the crisis or weaken you over time.

- If you don’t want to go out, it means you’ll watch a series together—or maybe two. He’ll work on his projects at night, but you’ll never know about it.

Ekko:

- Ekko notices it less quickly than the others, not because he’s emotionally clueless but because in Zaun, feeling unwell is both common and a part of daily life.

- He’ll pick up on it when you become less communicative, when he doesn’t see you around, and when he finds you lying in bed all the time.

- He’s the least likely to push you. Don’t feel like eating? He’ll bring a plate along with some treats he’s managed to scavenge and leave them in your room so that if you change your mind, you won’t have to get up.

- Really hungry? He’ll cook for you personally before you even ask, as soon as your stomach growls.

- Can’t bring yourself to wash? You’ll do it when you feel better—there’s no rush, no pressure. No matter how messy your room gets or how much you stay confined to that tiny space, he won’t make you feel bad about it. He’ll ask if you want to take a walk, visit the kids, or suggest plans to stimulate you.

Vander:

- The man who managed the entire Undercity, four criminal kids, the mines of Zaun, and the enforcers doesn’t back down from this challenge either.

- His approach is to never leave you alone.

- In the morning, he’ll dress you, comb your hair, and carry you to the bar. If he has to visit Benzo or go elsewhere, he won’t leave you alone for even five minutes.

- His reasoning isn’t fear that you’ll get worse but rather the belief that having stimulation without exhausting yourself will help distract you a bit.

- If possible, he’ll take you to the bridge, maybe for a picnic.

- You’ll always have a smoothie to drink so that, even if you don’t feel like eating, you can still get nutrients. At the same time, there will always be a plate of food on the table.

- Breakfast? Wherever you want. The other meals? In the living room or at the Last Drop, so the air in your room can be refreshed.

Silco:

- Before you even realize you’re having a crisis, he’ll leave some pills on your bedside table with a note explaining how to take them.

- His goons—at least the younger ones—are almost like his children, so he’s used to this kind of situation and already has everything prepared.

- If you lock yourself in your room, he’ll respect that; you need your space. But if it goes on for too long, he’ll feel compelled to intervene, if only to make sure you’re not wasting away.

- He’ll ask Sevika to take care of you when he can’t—though she won’t be thrilled about it. Still, the kingpin doesn’t want you to feel neglected or entrust you to someone unreliable or incompetent.

- He’ll adjust his work schedule to spend more time with you, though his requests will often feel more like polite orders.

- In Zaun, there aren’t good doctors to turn to, so if the choice is between letting you get a rash, an infection, or washing you himself, he won’t think twice about doing it.

- On the other side, he becomes much more affectionate. He’ll have you sit on his lap while he’s in his office and keep physical contact constant when you’re together, so you always know he’s there for you.

Jinx:

- “You’ve got the Big Sad,” as she calls it, speaking as someone with plenty of problems and few diagnoses.

- Her approach is also a way of exorcising the illness, making it less scary.

- Her main method of helping is cleaning and decorating her lair to make it brighter and more colorful, with cheerful music playing in the background and colorful lights stolen from Piltover.

- If you feel up to going out, she’ll take you to Piltover, where the air is cleaner, there’s more sunlight, and you can soak up some oxygen and vitamin D. If not, she’ll steal anything she can—fruit, toys—so you have something to engage with.

- When it comes to meals, she’s not great at managing herself. She often forgets to eat, and it’s her father who forces her to have complete meals. As a result, most of the edible things she’ll bring you are cookies, chips, pizza—tasty but not necessarily nutritious.

- The important thing is that you eat.

- She’ll try to negotiate with her father to skip missions for a while to stay close to you or go on them at night so you won’t notice her absence.

Vi:

- She doesn’t catch on too early but notices just before things worsen. She becomes very protective and more careful and kind in her actions, simply to avoid upsetting you.

- Out of personal guilt, she won’t let you know if she gets hurt, to prevent you from worrying or feeling bad about receiving help.

- If you drop something, she’ll immediately stop whatever she’s doing and come to you. First, she’ll reassure you that it’s okay—it happens to everyone—then she’ll help you clean up the mess.

- She doesn’t care if you don’t wash or dress yourself; coming from prison, she’s used to such things. If you want to but can’t, she’ll help. But if you don’t want to because it’s your favorite hoodie, she won’t push.

- When it comes to eating, though, she’s more insistent. She eats a lot, and Vander raised her with the idea that eating well is necessary to feel well. She’ll negotiate to get you to eat something—at least three times a day.

- It doesn’t matter if it’s a small amount, not very nutritious, or not a complete meal. You need energy.

- If you crave something specific, she’ll buy it—or steal it, depending on the cost—but she’ll make sure you get it.

Caitlyn:

- She’ll set up the guest room for you so you can stay at her place while still having complete independence.

- With her job keeping her busy, she can’t take full days off to be with you, so she instructs the house staff to have your meals ready at specific times, change your sheets, and clean your room to ensure you’re as comfortable as possible.

- To make up for her absence, she brings you pastries, slices of cake, or anything else she thinks you might enjoy.

- If she notices you’re not eating, she’ll simply sit with you and talk about how you need to eat at least a little, asking about your preferences so she can make sure you get the meals you want.

- In the evening, she’ll take a bath with you, washing your hair and massaging your back—both to make you feel better and to ensure you go to bed completely comfortable.

Mel:

- She struggles to notice something’s wrong until it’s too late or you tell her outright.

- Her work consumes so much of her time and energy that when she’s with you, she doesn’t immediately pick up on any issues.

- Her priority is keeping you in the light, which is why she moves you into her room with large windows to let the sunlight work its magic.

- In the mornings, she’ll prepare a coffee, a pastry from the best bakery, and a glass of water with an effervescent vitamin C tablet for you.

- Being a woman of science, she believes in medication, but if you’re not ready to seek professional help, she’ll at least ensure you take vitamins so your body doesn’t suffer as much as your mind.

- The deal is that you can do what you want during the day, but someone will bring you meals (and you’ll need to eat at least half), and all hygiene routines are moved to the evening so you can do them together with her help.

- Bath, shower, teeth, skincare, hair—you do everything together while chatting (as staff change the sheets and tidy the bed so you don’t feel burdened).

- She’ll try to skip the least important meetings to have meals or at least coffee with you, making sure you’re not left alone too much.

- At least three times a week, she gives you small errands to run, knowing that getting outside, walking, and fresh air will do you good.

Sevika:

- It might not seem like it, but despite her gruff exterior, she has a very soft heart. Surrounded by people with problems, she quickly notices when something’s wrong.

- She won’t bring it up first; instead, she’ll ask how you’re feeling, and if you hint that something’s off, her response is, “Do you want to talk about it?”

- If you break down while talking, she’ll hold you close, not interrupting or offering opinions. She just listens, lets you vent, and gives you something to wipe your tears. It’s not coldness—she simply wants you to process the pain at your own pace.

- She’ll mention it to Silco, at least to arrange more regular or reduced hours, ensuring you’re not left alone for too long.

- When she returns from a mission, she always tries to bring you something nice or that reminds her of you—a vulnerable gesture she wouldn’t usually make so lightly but does willingly when you need it.

- She’s unbothered by smells; if you don’t wash, she won’t push you. She just wants you to feel okay. At least once a week, if you can’t manage it, she’ll wash you herself to lighten your load, turning the moment into an act of care.

- If she has to leave at night, she’ll tuck you in, whisper that she’s heading out, and leave a glass of clean, fresh water and a sweet treat on your nightstand to reassure you that she didn’t want to leave but had no choice.

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hivemuthur · 3 months ago

Text

Dream Within a Dream

My humble tiny contribution to jayvik nation!

mature! kissing/making out, unresolved tension, teeny tiny bit of angst because I'm happiness repellent

word count: 3,5K

summary: based on @mithrava's hc where Jayce and Viktor are so happy about their Hextech breakthrough, they celebrate with a little bit too much alcohol and well... you know. Therefore, tw: alcohol.

Cross-posted on AO3

—

“…Will you please stop hovering?” Heimerdinger let out an annoyed huff at two of his pupils, in that moment floating around the room, amidst the blue hextech light scattered around them.

“I’m not sure how to do that, sir,” Viktor replied, trying to keep his composure—but he couldn’t hold back the laughter. He just couldn’t. It was unbelievable. It was unreal. They had actually done it.

Through endless nights of discussions, equations, notes, borderline illegal amounts of coffee, and sleeping in uncomfortable positions, they had managed to get here. To harness the power of magic and encapsulate it within a tiny crystal—endless possibilities contained inside.

So how could he be serious in that moment? There was absolutely no way to withhold the grin on his face. And even though so much was happening at once, Jayce took note of that grin—he hadn’t seen Viktor this happy before. In fact, he had only ever seen him vaguely content or, on rare occasions, excited. Happy? Never.

Heimerdinger’s voice broke them both out of the blissful moment. “This is not what Piltover’s future looks like, my dear boys.” The frown on his furry face gave away a concern that neither of them understood.

“That’s for the Council to decide.” Mel Medarda’s voice reached them before she appeared in her full glory. “Perhaps it is time,” she said, her tone gentle and measured as she scanned the room, “for the era of magic.”

“Uh, Hextech. For the era of Hextech,” Jayce corrected her, feeling the crushing weight of this moment. Where they could go from here seemed endless. And the best part of it was that he would be on this journey with Viktor.

***

They had managed to get the hovering under control, though not without casualties—Jayce had bashed his forehead on the desk while turning the machinery off, and Viktor had fallen straight onto his ass, a loud groan echoing through the workshop.

“Shit, Viktor, are you alright?”

The immediate concern in Jayce’s voice melted something deep inside Viktor. Something tender, almost unfamiliar. He looked up, and there Jayce was—already nursing his own bruised forehead, his face creased with a worried frown. Jayce. The man who, with all his relentless optimism, had somehow made Viktor’s world feel brighter.

Viktor’s lips twitched into a crooked smile, though he couldn’t quite meet Jayce’s eyes. “I’ll be fine. It’s mostly my pride that suffered,” he said, brushing himself off with as much dignity as he could muster. His voice sounded steadier than he felt. “I just need to… sit here for a moment.”

Jayce exhaled, a wide grin overtaking his face—so wide it threatened to split it in half. There was something almost boyish about it, as though he couldn’t hold in the sheer radiance of his joy.

“Wait for me here. I’ll be back before you can say ‘Hextech’!” he exclaimed, already pushing to his feet, a hand pressing against the purpling bruise on his temple. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except this—the breakthrough, the impossible victory that had been years, perhaps a lifetime, in the making. For Jayce, this wasn’t just a moment of triumph; it was a culmination of dreams whispered into the dark, plans scribbled into tattered notebooks. And Viktor—Viktor had made this possible.

As Jayce bounded out of the workshop, his voice trailing triumphant “Wooo!” sounds down the hallway, Viktor was left alone. Mid-inhale, he blinked at the empty doorway. “It’s not like I would go—” he muttered, his voice quiet in the now cavernous silence, “—anywhere.”

The air stilled. Viktor slumped back against the edge of the workbench, his limbs aching but his heart so full it felt as though it might burst. He tilted his head back, letting his gaze settle on the swirling hextech light still dancing across the ceiling, refracting like a kaleidoscope of stars.

What had they done? What had he done?

This wasn’t supposed to happen—not to him, not like this. For years, Viktor had lived in the shadow of his own life. A quiet assistant to minds greater, stronger, brighter than his. A figure scribbling equations in the margins, unseen and unheard. He had been grateful for scraps—a word of praise, an acknowledgment, the briefest recognition that he existed.

But this? This moment was his as much as it was Jayce’s. He closed his eyes.

For the first time, Viktor allowed himself to hold the word in his mind: partner. It was a simple word, but it swelled against his ribs until he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t know when it had started—when Jayce’s infuriatingly good-hearted presence had carved its way into his chest—but it was there, undeniable. A bloom of something delicate and dangerous, a feeling he could barely name.

Partner. But perhaps… perhaps something more.

The thought made him scoff softly to himself, shaking his head. Foolish. His pulse still hammered beneath his skin, hot with joy, with relief, with an ache he didn’t quite understand. His hand reached for his cane—a familiar comfort, even in its broken state—but he stopped short, fingertips hovering over the fractured wood.

Had he ever been this happy? Had he ever let himself be?

His chest rose and fell as he breathed, shaky and uneven, overwhelmed by it all. It hurt to feel this much, but gods, it was a beautiful kind of hurt.

“Jayce…” he whispered into the silence, testing the name on his tongue as though it might anchor him. Viktor let his hand fall away, sinking deeper into the weight of the moment. The hextech crystal continued to pulse in its cradle, and its glow reflected faintly in Viktor’s golden eyes—a mirror to the light he could feel, for the first time, inside himself. He had never had a reason to be this happy before. And he didn’t know what to do with it.

“Look what I found!” Jayce announced, as though he’d stumbled across a treasure hoard. “One cold compress—for your aching pride and your even more aching ass.” He tossed it toward Viktor, who caught it with a bemused huff. “And this,” he added, holding up the bottles with a victorious grin, “to seal the moment. A proper celebration.”

Viktor pressed the cool compress against his lower back, a small groan of relief escaping him. “You are… remarkably considerate,” he said, voice dry but fond. Then, eyeing the bottles dubiously, he added, “But I must warn you—I do not hold my liquor well.”

Jayce froze mid-flourish, his mouth dropping open in exaggerated offense. “Viktor, please. If you’re ever going to drink—ever—surely this is the moment to do it. You and I, two geniuses on the verge of changing the world! Are you really going to deny me the pleasure of seeing you loosen up?”

Viktor rolled his eyes, but there was no hiding the faint upward twitch of his lips. “One glass,” he relented, holding up a single finger for emphasis. “One.”

Jayce grinned like he’d won a victory greater than Hextech itself. “Deal!”

The cork popped with a satisfying crack, and before Viktor could protest further, Jayce had pressed a glass into his hand, the bubbly liquid fizzing and glittering like gold. Viktor stared at it, his brows furrowed as though unsure whether to admire it or fear it.

“To us,” Jayce said, raising his glass.

Viktor hesitated just a moment longer before mirroring him. “To… us,” he echoed softly. Then he smiled and added, “Na zdraví” in his thick accent.

The champagne was sharp and cold on his tongue, sweet but with a bite that lingered. It spread warmth through him far too quickly, a heat that gathered in his chest and curled behind his eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or simply the culmination of the day—the culmination of everything.

Jayce plopped down beside him on the floor, his legs stretched out lazily, their shoulders just barely brushing. “You know,” Jayce started, leaning his head back against the bench, “I can’t stop thinking about what this could mean. What we could do with it. Energy, innovation, security—Piltover could be… unstoppable.”

Viktor let his head loll to the side, a small smile quirking his lips as he studied Jayce’s face—open, bright, unwavering. “You are always looking ahead,” he said, his voice softer now, the champagne buzzing pleasantly at the edges of his thoughts. “It is admirable.”

Jayce turned to grin at him. “It’s easy when I’ve got you by my side.”

Viktor looked away, clearing his throat as heat threatened to creep up his neck. He forced his voice into a teasing lilt. “I could not help but notice how impressed Mel Medarda seemed with you earlier,” he said.

“Mel?” Jayce blinked, and Viktor swore he caught a flicker of hesitation. “She’s… she’s something, isn’t she?”

Viktor’s smile faltered slightly, a small twist forming in his chest. Something sharp and unpleasant. He frowned faintly to himself—jealousy? Ridiculous. Still, the feeling made him cringe. He’d never been prone to such sentiments before; why now?

Jayce, as though sensing something, rubbed the back of his neck and glanced away. “But, uh… I’ve had my eyes elsewhere for a while.”

Viktor turned to him, his brows knitting in confusion. “Elsewhere?”

The question hung between them, and for the briefest moment, Jayce’s confidence faltered. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, looking almost… nervous. Finally, he laughed, too quickly, waving a hand in the air. “I mean on our research, of course! Hextech. What else?”

Viktor tilted his head, his gaze lingering on Jayce’s face. “Right,” he said slowly, though he didn’t quite believe it.

Jayce turned his head away, suddenly focused on the far wall of the workshop. His hands fiddled with the stem of his glass, his thumb running absently along its edge. He felt off-kilter, as though the champagne had stripped him of some unseen armor. His pulse was too fast. And Viktor—Viktor, who sat beside him with his sharp golden eyes and his half-tilted smile—was studying him with far too much patience.

Jayce forced himself to look. Just look. He let his eyes trace Viktor’s features, committing them to memory—the sharp angles softened by the dim light, the faint flush to his pale cheeks, the way his lips parted slightly as though always on the edge of forming a thought. Damn.

He couldn’t stop talking, theorizing. He talked and talked, desperate for Viktor’s attention, for his hums of approval, for his thoughtful expressions. Their faces were getting closer and closer, as Jayce’s voice faltered and began to quiet.

“I mean, if we go about this well, think of all the people we could help. We could revolutionize mining, transport, we could—” His breath caught in his throat, and he didn’t know why. For the love of him, he couldn’t understand what invisible force guided his hands in that moment to cradle Viktor’s cheeks and press his lips against Viktor’s. Maybe it was the Hextech itself, but, oh gods, he didn’t know it was possible—it felt even better than hovering around the room mere hours ago.

It was so quick; he didn’t even register when he got back to his previous position.

Silence fell between them, heavy and aching. Jayce couldn’t bring himself to look up when he felt slender hands tugging at his neck and pulling him back to where he had just been. It was a slow movement—tentative, yet deliberate. Viktor’s arms guided him back to where he was supposed to be, and Jayce had to balance himself on his friend’s hip. The kiss was slow, sloppy, lazy even. Extended in time, as if they wanted time itself to stop and freeze them in this fleeting moment.

Jayce moaned involuntarily as he felt a sharp pull of heat drag through his core, ready to pull Viktor closer, when Viktor hesitantly broke them apart.

A small “Wait,” barely audible, escaped Viktor’s mouth. “I am sorry, I don’t know what—” he tried, but his words failed him. What he needed right now was a calculation: of the risk, of the potential benefits and losses, a detailed outline of what had led to this conclusion. But his mind was so hazy from all the champagne, Viktor scolded himself for having more than one glass.

It was an impossible command for Jayce. He was able to do anything, but ‘wait’ right then. Mindful of his fresh injury, Jayce pulled Viktor up to straddle his lap, their torsos touching through the horrible layers of clothing. He hated clothes so much in that moment.

Jayce kissed him again, deeply, hungrily, a quiet urgency that neither of them had anticipated. Their lips moved together in a rhythm that felt both natural and uncharted, as though they had crossed an invisible line they hadn’t even known existed. Jayce’s hands cupped Viktor’s ass, pressing him down on himself, the bulge in his pants painfully swollen. Viktor’s hips bucked, he couldn’t help it—it embarrassed him completely, but another thing he couldn’t help was a breathy moan escaping his mouth. What had just happened?

“Fuck, Jayce,” Viktor mumbled straight into Jayce’s mouth. “What is… this?” he stated more than asked, breaking the kiss but keeping their faces close together, their foreheads and noses touching, their mouths panting.

“I don’t know,” Jayce breathed, his voice soft but steady, his hands still holding Viktor close, fingers splayed against his back. “But it feels... good.”

His chest tightened as he felt Viktor’s breath hitch, the conflict so clear in his partner’s eyes, despite the way their bodies pressed together in a dizzying, heated closeness. The tension between them was palpable—an uncomfortable, unspoken ache that neither of them could address right now. The weight of their clothes, the awkwardness of their embrace, felt suffocating as if there was too much space to fill but not enough to move. Viktor’s sharp inhale vibrated through Jayce’s chest, and he noticed how stiff Viktor’s shoulders were, like he was trying to hold himself back.

Jayce could feel the conflict in the tightness of Viktor’s arms, the way his body was taut against him as if he were bracing for something. It made Jayce’s heart race, his mind swirling with uncertainty, but his arms were already instinctively pulling Viktor in tighter. His face pressed into Viktor’s neck, breathing in the familiar, comforting scent of him—a mix of iron, wood, and something uniquely Viktor. He didn’t want to let go. Not yet.

“I’ve had too much to drink,” Viktor said, his voice strained, as though he were forcing the words out through a clenched jaw. He pulled back just enough to look Jayce in the eyes, and there was a flicker of hesitation before he spoke again. “It’s best if we get some rest. We can’t... I can’t...” Viktor’s voice caught in his throat, the words stumbling out as if they were too heavy to say.

Jayce’s heart sank, a dull ache in his chest at the thought of pulling away. He understood. He knew Viktor wasn’t ready, wasn’t sure of what had just happened, wasn’t sure of what he wanted. It was too much. Too fast. Jayce nodded, slow and resigned, but the words didn’t come immediately. His body was still pressed against Viktor’s, still drunk on the warmth of him, the touch, the kiss that had stolen all their breath.

“It’s okay,” Jayce said softly, voice barely above a whisper. “I understand.”

But as Viktor began to shift back, preparing to pull away, Jayce’s hand tightened around his waist, stopping him. He didn’t want to let go. Not yet.

“Just... give me a minute more of this,” Jayce said, his voice quieter now, rough around the edges, as though the words were torn from him. His head dipped back into Viktor’s neck, inhaling deeply, the scent of him filling his lungs. He breathed him in like he was trying to hold onto the moment, as if if he let go now, it would all slip away.

Viktor stiffened slightly, but Jayce didn’t let go. He just held him tighter, his arms now wrapped fully around Viktor’s back, pulling him closer. And Viktor, though he hesitated for a brief moment, let himself be held.

In that moment, Jayce didn’t want to think about the future, about what this meant, or the next steps. He just wanted the quiet comfort of Viktor’s presence, the feeling of his body against his own, the intimacy of this fragile, fleeting moment that felt like something he never wanted to end.

Later, in their separate rooms, sleep eluded them. The night stretched long, each of them turning over in their own bed, replaying the evening over and over in their foggy minds. Viktor’s head throbbed from the champagne, but it was the kiss that lingered, the warmth of Jayce’s hands, the desperate pull of something he couldn’t name.

Across the hall, Jayce lay wide-eyed, staring at the ceiling, the taste of Viktor still sharp on his lips. His heart raced with the memory of their closeness, the breathless tension that had filled the room. He knew he should sleep, but the moment kept replaying in his mind, teasing him with the questions he didn’t know how to answer. Neither of them could shake the memory, the yearning that now hung between them like an unsaid truth, and neither of them could bring themselves to confront it, not yet.

***

They were both late the next day. Jayce, the ever-thoughtful Jayce, brought the coffees and breakfast to the workshop, only to find Viktor slumped against the desk, napping.

Jayce’s heart swelled momentarily with the memory of last night still lingering, but he managed to speak. “Do I dare check for your pulse?” he joked, approaching Viktor with the coffee first—one could never be too cautious.

“It should be in your best interest that I still have a pulse, otherwise the blood would be on your hands, Jayce,” Viktor groaned, his voice muffled against the workbench. “This is agonizing. The one thing in my body that worked without fault is now failing me.” Another dramatic whine made Jayce laugh. “You’ve broken me, Jayce. No more Hextech, no more genius mind,” Viktor kept whining, his hand blindly roaming the space in front of him, searching for the coffee.

“It can’t be that bad. I’ve brought food. Will that grant me your forgiveness?” Jayce asked, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he set the breakfast down in front of Viktor.

“Ugh, no, I can barely keep my insides... well, inside,” Viktor groaned, his voice thick with discomfort. He slowly lifted his head from the workbench, blinking against the harsh light. But beneath his words, his mind was racing.

He knew exactly how much he'd had to drink, and he knew the effects were still there. But the last thing he wanted was for Jayce to think he was still reeling from the night. So, he lied—an easy lie, one that masked the overwhelming truth. How did we get so drunk? I can’t remember a thing, he told himself, but his mind replayed every second of it. The kiss. Jayce's arms around him. The feeling of something more lingering in the air, unspoken and unresolved. It haunted him, but Viktor buried it beneath the weight of a half-hearted chuckle. "How did we get so drunk? I can’t remember a thing," he repeated aloud, his hand slowly making its way toward the food as if it could somehow pull him away from his thoughts.

Jayce’s heart literally sank at Viktor’s words, the lightness in his chest suddenly replaced by a heavy knot. He forced a chuckle, brushing the unease aside. Of course, Viktor couldn’t remember… Of course. But he played along, trying to keep things light. “Well, we talked about Hextech, and the future. Grand plans, all that. Nothing too exciting," he added with a grin, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Viktor, still half-dazed, blinked at him slowly, as if he was trying to pull the threads of last night together. He took a sip of the coffee Jayce had brought him, his eyes narrowing with a hint of disbelief. “I can’t believe our dream is actually about to come true,” Viktor murmured, shaking his head as if the reality of it was just starting to sink in.

Jayce’s expression faltered, a subtle sadness flashing across his face before he could mask it. “Yeah, it will,” he said quietly, his voice betraying a wistful edge. “Our dream will come true now.” He paused, his gaze distant for a moment, as if the weight of the moment was pressing in on him. But there was another, smaller dream, too. One that had lingered in the back of it all. Jayce had gotten a glimpse of it coming true last night as well. He scolded himself for letting it slip through his fingers.

#viktor arcane #viktor fanfic #arcane #arcane fanfic #my writing #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #viktor nation #jayce x viktor #jayvik #jayvik fanfic #jayvik nation

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smhc · 4 months ago

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jayce hopping timelines to be reunited with viktor, when they were young and happy and so full of hope. a do over. but he soon realizes when he makes his way to one universe, hes overriding a version of himself, taking away the opportunity for that jayce to live out his own life with viktor by his side.

so he only stays for a little bit, “borrowing” time from himself from different timelines, never settling down. he learns of every possibility of himself and viktor, at every point in their relationship.

he learns how to slow down viktors illness (though never cured). hes also learned what it feels like to watch him die. he learns when its TOO early to confess, and he knows what happens when he’s too late. he gets to experience versions of viktor through the shoes of versions of himself in all possibilities.

when he decides to leave, onto another timeline, into another jayce, he leaves himself words of advice. if jayce cant stay, he may as well try to make things better.

he leaves notes in that jayces journal.

“he likes his coffee way sweeter”

“offer to walk him home, he’ll refuse at first but eventually gives in”

“he will need a crutch soon, start drafting up something”

“stop wasting your time and tell him”

“DONT say that thing about people from the undercity”

on jayce’s never ending journey of finding his own viktor, he can at least help himself along the way

#jayce x viktor #jayvik #jayce talis #arcane #viktor arcane #arcane jayce

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savi0rr · 4 months ago

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All Too Well, Wife .ᐟ (Ten Minute Version)

Viktor x Fem! Wife! Reader

In which, Viktor has a small photo of you in his pocket. Every time he looks at it, he remembers it all too well.

"Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known. It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well."

a/n: In loving memory of my beloved Eras Tour. I was watching the live stream while writing this...

Warning: angst, mentions of death (reader), sad Viktor, illness, yap yap

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Today, as Viktor sat in the stillness of his dimly lit room, an unsettling wave washed over him, making his stomach churn. The silence felt oppressive, like a tangible weight pressing down on his chest. Turning his gaze to the bedside table, he spotted a framed photograph of you—one of the very few he cherished. Regret gnawed at him; he wished he had captured more moments, but you always shied away from the camera, insisting on avoiding the lens. Now, as fleeting memories began to swirl in his mind, he could almost hear your familiar voice teasing him to stop documenting every little thing. A small, sad sigh escaped his lips, and he fought with the urge to chuckle at the memory.

He leaned closer to the nightstand, drawn to your photo as if it were a lifeline in the ocean of his loneliness. The sight of your radiant smile had a soothing effect, temporarily easing the tension that had built up in his shoulders. In that snapshot of joy, he could almost hear your laughter echoing through the room, enveloping him in warmth. “Damn it…” he murmured under his breath, running a hand over his face, struggling to push away the mix of nostalgia and sorrow that gripped him. He set aside his cane, allowing himself to lie back on the mattress, feeling the familiar weight of emptiness settle in. “It’s so quiet without you, you know?” he whispered, stealing glances at your picture again, seeking solace in its presence.

Viktor had grown so accustomed to your incessant chatter and quick-witted retorts that the current silence felt utterly unbearable. It echoed around him, filled only with the painful remnants of memories, and he loathed it. Each second in this void seemed to stretch into eternity, filled with the agonizing truth that you were no longer there to fill the space. Frustration bubbled within him until he groaned loudly and pressed his hands over his eyes, wishing for a distraction from the reality he had to face.

After what felt like an eternity—though it had only been five minutes—he finally mustered the strength to sit up again. His fingers reached out instinctively for your photo, brushing against the smooth glass that guarded it. In that moment, it felt as though he were reaching out to touch your warm, living skin again. But then, the haunting memory of that horrid night surged back, the memory of your cold, lifeless body sending a shiver down his spine. He recoiled as if burned, his breath hitching in his throat. “What I would do… just to touch you again,” he whispered vulnerably, gingerly placing your picture back on the bedside table and trying to regain his composure.

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Viktor then leaned his cheek against the palm of his hand, his eyes fixated on a small photograph of you that he had slipped into his pocket earlier. When you were still alive, you were always by his side, refusing to leave him alone whenever you had the chance. He made it a point to carry your photo wherever he went; he didn't want anyone at the Academia to discover it. No one knew about your marriage or the sorrow of your death, and Viktor had intended to keep it that way… or so he thought.

He believed he was alone in this moment of vulnerability, having just watched Jayce leave not long before. But without his knowledge, Jayce had lingered nearby, peeking over his shoulder at the photo—a snapshot so full of life that it drew anyone’s attention. “Who’s that? She’s pretty,” Jayce’s voice cut through Viktor's reverie, startling him out of his daze. Viktor froze, his muscles tensing instinctively, and he hastily shoved the picture down onto the desk. “It’s rude to sneak up on people,” he snapped, furrowing his brows at Jayce in irritation.

Jayce raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by Viktor’s sudden outburst. “I’m just teasing,” he responded, leaning back casually and shoving his hands into his pockets. “But seriously, who was that?” His tone shifted to genuine curiosity, tilting his head inquisitively. Viktor remained silent, his gaze dropping away from Jayce's knowing eyes. “Just an… old friend,” he eventually replied, leaning back in his chair, fully aware that his words felt inadequate. Jayce certainly sensed the lie; their friendship had been built on trust over many years.

“Right,” Jayce said, nodding slowly and making his way over to the other side of the lab, leaving Viktor to sit in the wake of his defensive emotions.

With a sigh he hadn’t realized he was holding, Viktor’s body began to relax once more as he stole another glance at your smiling photo. Nervously, he shoved the picture back into his pocket, acutely aware of how deep and vulnerable his feelings were. He hated the thought of Jayce knowing about you, about the love they had shared.

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“I’m sorry,” he muttered softly, kneeling before your gravestone later that evening, his heart heavy with guilt. “Jayce saw you.” He traced his fingers over the cool grass beneath him, feeling the earth’s weight beneath his fingertips. “I know you wanted me to talk about you, but…” His voice trailed off, giving way to the silence that had settled around him. “You know how I feel about that, dear.” He pulled your photo out of his pocket once more, his eyes scanning it as if it were a precious artifact from a time long gone. “He even called you pretty,” he reminisced, tilting his head back slightly to remember the way your laughter had danced through the air.

His thoughts drifted further back as he recalled how Jayce had inquired about the ring on his finger, a gift that symbolized their bond. “I said it was a gift. I hope you aren’t upset with that,” he said, glancing away from the gravestone, aware of how you had once scolded him for insisting it was just a present. A wave of longing washed over him, and he wished more than anything to relive those days, when smiles were abundant and love was an unending presence. He missed you more than he could articulate, and the ache in his heart felt as fresh as it did the night you were taken from him. He remembers it all too well.

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#x you #oneshot #angst #arcane #viktor x reader #viktor #arcane viktor #arcane viktor x reader #reader insert #arcane angst #viktor arcane

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infinitelystrangemachinex · 5 months ago

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Jayce and the fallacy of the butterfly effect in Arcane's narrative

If Jayce's symbol is the butterfly, then my theory is that we're going into a full "butterfly effect" narrative in Act 2. Either we'll watch it happen, or we'll only see Jayce come out the other side of it changed by the experience, knowing - or more importantly, THINKING he knows - what to do to change the future. Literally, to "defend tomorrow."

tl;dr: Jayce will encounter the butterfly effect in season 2. Viktor and Mel both foreshadowed this in season 1. I think Jayce will fixate on Viktor and will believe that stopping or changing Viktor either in the past or the present - most likely the present - will mean he can save the future. I believe this will lead to an even worse tragedy and may have the same effect as a self-fulfilling prophecy. Ekko's approach to changing the future by sticking closer to the present - considering only tiny increments of time to alter more immediate future outcomes - will be the superior approach. I also think that Jayce attempting to change the future will create the conditions that push Viktor to become the Machine Herald.

One of the most common reactions even the casual viewer had to Arcane season 1 was this: "If [character] had just done this one small thing a little differently, [tragic event] wouldn't have happened!"

Arcane has been called a Greek tragedy for the main reason that because of how well built up the characters' personalities and reasonings are, there's no other way season 1 could have gone. There was no stopping the multiple tragedies that occurred, because with one event leading to another, the chain of seemingly inevitable events goes too far back to identify what one singular event caused everything, what one character made what one decision to put our characters on the terrible paths they walked.

Arcane is about to investigate this idea in its own narrative, and I think that Jayce will be the character to stumble into the flawed idea that you can change one event, or stop one character, and change the future for the better. This is because Jayce struggles with a few very interesting character flaws, one of them being that he believes himself to be the main character, and it is therefore his responsibility to intervene, be a hero, and fix things.

Viktor and Mel both foreshadow Jayce's future encounter with the butterfly effect.

Recall that Viktor said: "There is always a choice."

Jayce sees choices in black and white, believes that he has no other options but to go along with what he's persuaded and pushed into, and acts too boldly with too much power multiple times.

Recall that Mel said: "We can't change what fate has in store for us, but we don't have to face it alone."

Jayce tries to solve big problems on his own, and though he delegates to Enforcers and the like, Jayce relies on his reasoning and his alone to make important decisions if he doesn't simply become persuaded - usually through strong emotions like fear - by other characters. In addition, since Mel is specifically talking about Viktor's plight here, it's worth mentioning that while Jayce did say that he would help Viktor in acts 2 and 3 of season 1, Jayce does wind up leaving Viktor to face his fate alone. When Jayce tries to change that fate in s2 ep1, ep2 shows that only tragedy can come of this as well.

Viktor and Mel's statements here are not contradictory. Viktor makes the point that you can always make a choice. In context, he's literally referring to the classic "secret third option," because given a choice between aggression and passivity, war and surrender, Viktor chooses to defuse the bomb instead. Mel, interestingly, seems to believe that destiny is fixed in a broad sense, and she operates as a politician and diplomat and investor who navigates that line of destiny in the most optimal way possible. In reality, in context, she is referring to the fact that Viktor can't change the way he was born and so he has no way to change his fate and therefore must face it, which is true - she's only missing the information that Viktor actually does have the means to change his illness and his body. Her wisdom still applies however, because he'll have to accept the hand that fate deals him after he makes that choice. Will he face it alone, or not?

There is always a choice, there's even secret third options, because having a fate doesn't mean that you are doomed to make only one possible series of choices. What it does mean is that each choice comes with a hand that fate deals you. It is impossible to know what all of these branching choices and consequences are in advance, and it is just as impossible in hindsight - the branches are too complex and the end outcomes are all equally meaningful, just different. If Arcane season 2 is to be a tragedy, it may show us that each possible outcome is still tragic if you fall for the fallacy of the butterfly effect.

Jayce is counseled by some of the wisest, cleverest characters with the deepest life experiences in Arcane, but he hardly ever takes that counsel to heart. If he does, he still acts on that counsel in flawed ways that have unintended consequences. This will come to a head in season 2.

Viktor and Jayce both have a butterfly following them around in season 1. The butterfly effect refers to one small seemingly insignificant event changing the course of history, and changing that event therefore changes history. Viktor bled over the railing of a Hexgate in season 1:

And Heimerdinger sees what we can only assume is Viktor's blood contaminating (?) the Hexgate in s2 ep3:

This might be the seemingly unimportant "inciting incident" that Jayce (and Heimerdinger and Ekko) settle on as something that should be avoided or erased by changing the past (if they time-travel with Ekko, for example).

I doubt that, if this is what this crew chooses to fixate on, it will be the only event that is considered as something to change. But let's take this and run with it for the sake of discussion.

As silly as it sounds, how do you stop Viktor from allowing his blood to come into contact with the arcane? Stop Viktor's involvement with the Academy entirely? Don't invent Hextech at all? But what if someone else invents Hextech besides Jayce? What if future tragedy befalls Piltover because it didn't invent Hextech?

The possibilities and what-ifs could branch on forever. But because Jayce is who he is, and because his tragedy with Viktor is still raw and recent and frightening, I think Jayce's butterfly effect experience will have to do with Viktor.

My personal prediction is that the timeskip between s2 ep3 and ep4 will be Jayce experiencing a timeline where Viktor, taken over by the Hexcore, brings about an apocalyptic event similar to what Heimerdinger experienced in his past. Either Jayce and co. can't go into the past to change the present, or Heimerdinger and/or Ekko advise strongly against it to avoid a paradox. This will lead to them re-entering the canon Arcane timeline before this apocalypse, but still after the timeskip. Jayce, believing that destroying Viktor and his cult will save the future, and believing that resurrecting Viktor was Jayce's mistake to fix, attacks him. But the consequences don't unfold the way he hopes, because trying to change fate once the cards have already been dealt has led to tragedy before.

The butterfly is a symbol of something other than just the butterfly effect - change, evolution, and rebirth. If the butterfly symbolizes the butterfly effect for Jayce, then I think it has a different meaning for Viktor - the change and rebirth meaning.

I've always found it very interesting that we see a similar-looking butterfly on Progress Day... but made of metal.

Every time Viktor's situation changes, he adapts and evolves. If Jayce attacks him, if his cult is destroyed, if the Hexcore is causing Viktor to decay, if all of these things happen at once - he'll just evolve again, and I think the Machine Herald is the next step. And the Machine Herald will be a triumph for Viktor, but Jayce will believe that he's created something even worse. The resulting feud will be a personal nightmare for both of them.

I think this still allows Viktor to use his own agency to choose to become the Machine Herald (the MH will probably be the "secret third option" that saves Viktor, or there will be a secret third option that ends the feud) while still allowing Jayce to be offended and horrified at whatever the Machine Herald represents or is trying to do in the undercity. Introducing the element of time travel allows Arcane to explore the meta concept of tragedy and fate that season 1 was built on while showing that you can't "solve" a tragedy, because there are other terrible possibilities lurking behind alternate choices. Especially if what you're trying to change is singular people or events and not systems of power.

This is why Ekko's approach with his Z-drive will be superior to Jayce's sweeping attempt at changing the future. Ekko's goal has always been societal change. He creates his own punk society in the undercity, more progressive and successful than anything Vander or Silco ever created, and a better bastion of safety, hope, and progress than what Heimerdinger founded in Piltover. Trying to change systems by going back in time is most likely futile. But taking what Ekko has already built in the Firelights, curing his tree, and fighting for the Firelights' survival bit by bit by optimizing the present with the Z-drive shows that:

It's more worth it to focus on becoming wise (Ekko's mask is an owl) and making choices you won't regret

It's best if you don't face your fate alone (act as a collective and take care of each other)

Consider every option, not just the obvious black and white choices

Maintain and fix what you've already built instead of abandoning it once things get difficult

Adapt as needed if the choices you made lead to dark consequences, and once again, stick together and take care of each other when the bad times do come

That's my Act 2 but, ultimately, my season 2 prediction based on the butterfly symbolism we've already seen. Ekko's involvement is what will give the series the at least partial happy ending that the creators have referred to. I personally don't think that the Viktor/Jayce feud will end quite so well, but maybe, they will still survive.

#arcane #spoilers #arcane s2 #arcane spoilers #jayce talis #ekko #viktor #viktor arcane #long post #meta #jayvik #arcane meta #heimerdinger #I'm positive that Mel will be deeply involved with this too considering her comments on fate #honestly the thought of her being caught in the Viktor/Jayce feud is terrible to contemplate so I'm just gonna pray for my girl #I did not like the time travel implications when i first watched act 1 but after thinking about this i feel way better about it #Another reason I think this will come down to Viktor is because Heimerdinger has distrusted Viktor since season 1 and he will focus on him #Ekko will see the faults in focusing on one person #Jayce is least likely to survive all this considering how fast the consequences of his actions are catching up with him #but there could also be a chance here of viktor choosing to spare him - if only to curse him with the Defender/Herald feud forever idk #anyway i am feral for season 2 so far can't you tell

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you-know-honey · 5 months ago

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Green Vibes

Viktor x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Viktor is on the verge of collapse because of work, so you will “prescribe” him an unconventional method.

Warning: Mention and use of drugs (Weed). Sexual tension (I don't know if it counts, judge for yourself)

N/A: English is not my native language, feel free to correct me in the comments and I will update it. Remember to share if you liked it.

Translation of the request: The reader shows Viktor the joints

You bent down to pick up the twelfth crumpled ball of paper that rolled across the floor to throw it in the trash can.

As an assistant it was your duty to help with the less interesting tasks of being a visionary inventor. And that meant keeping things tidy and clean.

Which used to be the biggest burden, Jayce was a master at leaving important things lying around, his desk was always full of papers, notebooks, screw and bolts.

It was like being his babysitter, once he left at nightfall, you stayed to tidy up.

You wanted to go home and… try a new ‘relaxant’ you had bought, but it seemed like that would have to wait. Or maybe not…

Viktor always stayed too late at the lab, so while you cleaned up and complained about the mess of Jayce, he was always there, silent or chatting a little with you when he decided to take a break, something very rare for him.

But now he was really focused, mumbling things that aren't so nice to hear while writing in his notebook, then he got upset and hit the table a little before tearing off the sheet and throwing it to the floor. He's been like this for the last few hours, it seems like he could burn everything down if his formulas don't start making sense soon. It's weird to see him like this, normally he's someone who could have infinite patience, you suppose he has it with everyone except himself.

You approached his desk discreetly, as if you were tidying up a bit. You carry with you your usual relaxed energy, maybe you could spread some of your spirit to him.

"Viktor!" your shout surprised him, making his back tingle like a cat's "You look like you're about to pop a vein, are you okay?" they say with a soft smile.

Viktor guides his gaze from your hands on his desk to your face, you look at him with a calm smile, as if you hadn't just almost stopped his heart, it's always like that, there's no other way you could smile at him and if you think back he's the only person you really smile at.

He answers with a snort, rubbing his temples.

“Of course not. If I was this dam- prototype would work” he refrained from saying a rude thing, you knew him, for him, saying a rude thing meant he was losing his composure and that was something he never did “I'm starting to think that magic is more logical than science.”

He sighed, showing that he was quite exhausted, the dark circles under his eyes supported that conclusion. His thin hands combed his hair as if that would refresh his ideas before falling on his desk again.

That squeezed your heart a little and made a curious idea cross your mind, reflected in a malicious smile.

You let your hands wander across the desk, between the open papers and notebooks, to Viktor’s hands that were clenched into fists. “What you need is not more work. You need to relax…”

Viktor's body was the victim of a shiver when he felt your fingers approach his hand, his heart skipped a beat when he felt how your fingers tried to loosen their grip on his fist and finally succeeded. He tried to stay still, as if the slightest movement would push you away like a little bird, his gaze followed each of your movements in his hand, caressing his palm and playing with his fingers.

Was he surprised by your attitude? Yes. It was something he had never expected from you. You used to play little jokes on him, like shouting his name or throwing a pencil on the floor to get him out of his almost absolute concentration but... touching him? That was new. Sure, you were the secretary of both of them but you always had to run after Jayce because he was like a clueless child, even Viktor knew that. With him you weren't like that at all, you always gave him his space and kept your distance all the time. That had always made him feel uncomfortable, like he didn't belong to whatever was forming when you and Jayce were together, like he was a sour shadow life to the sidelines of happiness.

“Can I help you with that?” you asked in a whisper.

“I guess so…” He seemed nervous and that increased even more when he felt your hand go up his arm to his shoulder, where with both hands you did small massages on his shoulders and neck. You used to give Jayce massages when he was frustrated and a part of Viktor had always felt a little jealous of that, although he didn't want to admit it, it seemed unfair to him, Jayce had Mel and he really didn't get tired of talking about how wonderful she was and yet he also had you, always fluttering around him, always laughing with you, always accepting your merely friendly touch, always...always making you smile...he wants that.

He couldn't help but gasp when the pressure on his body began to disappear, his body was also enjoying it, after all it was the first time he could feel your touch beyond accidental brushes. He was grateful that you were behind him, he was sure that if you could see his face he couldn't hide how much he was enjoying it.

You looked over your shoulders at your bag hanging on one of the racks next to the door, next to Viktor's jacket. It was time to take advantage of that small purchase. You slid your hands to his neck, massaging even under his hair, making your way and disarranging his shirt in the process until you touched his warm and soft skin. Viktor's hand quickly went in search of his cane, when a shiver ran through him from head to toe with force, the emptiness in his lungs reminded him that he should breathe. But even with that wave of emotions, what he felt the most was the absence of your hands on him.

He quickly turned in his chair to look for you, his eyes traveling around the lab until he saw you near the entrance.

“No…” he muttered to himself as he grabbed his cane and let his shoulder rest on it, hurrying to get to you, but when he had you in front of him the words got stuck in his throat. “Are you leaving already?” he asked, it was the only thing his nervous mind had been able to formulate.

You turned back to face him, hiding something in the palm of your hand, a playful smile spread across your face as you shook your head. “No, I just came… to get something.”

“Oh…” he felt like an idiot, there was no lie that could justify him basically going after you like a lapdog. So he just stayed silent looking for something that would draw his attention more than the shame he felt and he found it, in your hands. “What are you trying to hide?” He asked at your poor attempt to hide what you were carrying in your hands. That helps him regain his composure and look you in the eyes again with confidence.

“It’s a secret” your tone is playful as you dodge him, close enough to smell his coffee and caramel aroma. Your movements are full of grace, even when you bring an extra chair to his desk and push his research away with a slight carelessness.

He can’t help but compare you to a dancing nymph, the air that sneaks through the open window and the bright moonlight support that idea in his head, he doesn’t even mind that some of his papers fly in the wind to his feet, he feels it as if they mark a path to you. Viktor doesn’t hesitate for a moment to return to his desk, shaking his head as a shy smile crosses his face, he can’t help it, it’s what you provoke in him.

He lets himself fall on the seat in front of you, your body shivers with the friction of the metal device on his leg against your knee, he seems to notice it and self-consciously takes a little distance, but you used your foot to work his chair into place before basically having him on the other side of the desk.

“Are you ready to try something really relaxing?” You ask excitedly.

Your gaze is unmistakably on him, finally, his mind screams excitedly and he hides it very well with a nervous movement of his good leg.

“What is that?” He asks finally, he's not good at enduring mysticism.

You open your hands with the same excitement as a circus tent opens to show an endless number of wonders. There's a yellow metal box with rainbow stickers and happy faces painted with marker. Inside there was a green mass and another brown compacted, a lighter, small filters and small papers.

You laughed a little at his attitude. “It's a relaxation method. You're going to like it. Well... maybe not, but you have to try it.”

Viktor massages his chin while he analyzes everything, he has that skeptical look full of curiosity again, you can see the nuts and bolts in his mind turning.

“It's weed.” you confess, his eyes widen and search your gaze quickly, his eyes reflecting surprise. “Oh come on Viktor, what is science if not experimenting with new things? It counts as research.” The tone in your voice is playful, as if you're amused by the situation.

“What effects does it have?” If there was one thing Viktor never dabbled in, it was drugs. Even with his illness, he never thought about trying them. Not because he didn't know about them, they just didn't spark his interest. "I didn't know you were on drugs..." he murmurs, feeling a little foolish, he didn't consider you to be close friends so it's not like you had to tell him about it. A thorn of jealousy stung him when a voice in the back of his mind mentioned that maybe Jayce did know that and many other things about you.

"I don't, it was... a recent purchase, I just know that they relax you and make you feel really good for a few hours." You sigh and rest your head on your outstretched arm on the desk. "Do you want to try it? I mean, we can try it together if you want..." you say as your hand plays with a pencil near you. You don't want to look him in the eyes, you fear meeting a stern look and a big reproach.

"Sure, why not." was his answer, simple and perhaps a little nervous.

“This is going to be fun.”

Viktor watches you carefully as you roll the joint, studying your every action. He watches your hands take the thin, almost translucent paper that shines a little under the moonlight, watching it spread between your fingers as you make sure the sticky side is facing up and out. He look at your hands, soft and the shiny rings on them, and only one thought escapes you.

“I’d like to feel them…”

“What?” you reply to such an unexpected comment.

“Nothing,” he quickly says. “I was rambling,” he tries to justify himself, and you seem to believe him for a second.

“Okay…” Your movements were nervous, caused by the intensity of his gaze, making you more and more nervous about being the center of his absolute attention this time. You delicately crumble the buds. The sticky texture of the resin tried to stick to your fingers, releasing an earthy aroma, you take a bit of tobacco and crumble it up and let it rest on the grass. You take a small little filter and place it on one end. With agile fingers you lift the paper and begin to shape it, making sure everything is well distributed, you roll the paper and Viktor’s soul seems to leave his body when he sees you licking the edge before sealing it with a clean movement. His thoughts are reflected on his face as a faint blush spreads across his cheeks and his Adam’s apple rises shakily.

You offer him the finished joint with a satisfied smile, you hoped you had done all the steps right. Viktor takes it delicately, as if he had just witnessed a sacred ritual.

“What exactly is in it?” he asks, hoping the answer will take his attention away from his own thoughts a little.

“Weed, tobacco, patience…and the desire to share” You joke as you take out the lighter and put everything in the box, before hiding it in one of the drawers of his desk.

Viktor plays with the joint in his hand for a while, examining it. “Should I put it in my mouth?” he asks as you nod softly.

“I’ll light it” you move your chair closer to him, just a few centimeters from each other, you take the lighter from the table and bring it close to his face, with the glow of the flame you can clearly see his blush and how straight he is in his seat “Relax, I’m not going to set you on fire.” you murmured with a soft laugh. He didn’t answer, he just brought his face closer to you, not to the flame of the lighter, your body paralyzed at such a reaction, it was you who brought the flame closer to him and gently lit the joint.

Viktor's first drag was a tragedy in itself, he coughed as if his soul was leaving them while his eyes were watery as if he was dying, he had inhaled it all at once and swallowed it, so it was like watching a chimney moan. You quickly went to his aid by taking the joint from him, taking him to the window to get some air and gently hitting his back to get the remaining humor out of his lungs. Even so, you couldn't help but laugh awkwardly, you tried to hide it so he wouldn't think you were laughing at him but then it was a thousand times more noticeable.

“This can't be healthy…” he mentioned, hitting his back against the wall next to the window.

“Not if you do it like that” you mentioned covering your laughter with your hand.

“Do you find it funny to see me dying in the smoke?”He asked, he didn't seem upset, he just had his arms crossed with a sarcastic attitude, letting his back fall against the wall in the arch of the window.

“No…” you muttered before stopping hiding your laughter and letting it out freely. He just smiled and looked out the window, he felt a little silly about everything that had happened but at least he made you laugh and that was something.

Viktor’s skin crawled as your hand suddenly cupped his cheek. “You have a tear,” you said, wiping the small droplet that rolled down his cheek with your thumb. His arms fell heavily to the sides of his body. Before he could react properly, he let himself enjoy the touch, your touch, the feeling of you coming into contact with his skin. Although it only lasted a few seconds, he could still feel your touch when you pulled away.

“I’ll do it first so you can see, okay?” you said. You took the joint between your fingers elegantly and put it between your lips. You inhaled and held it for a few seconds before letting it out slowly. The smoke fell from your mouth and the wind carried it to Viktor, enveloping it in a cloud of smoke before dissipating into the air.

You approached him with slow steps, taking one of his hands and leaving the joint between his fingers. “It’s your turn,” you said, raising his hand to his mouth, “remember, don’t swallow the smoke,” you said in a joking tone.

“Ha ha, funny.” He rolled his eyes and brought the joint to his lips this time. He took a deep drag and held it for a while, holding onto his cane to use his free hand for something.

You were on the lookout for everything, in case he choked on the smoke again.

“Exhale,” you rested your hand on his chest, the small jump his chest made when he felt your fingers against his clothes was clear to you. Smoke came out from between his thin lips like a waterfall, you left your hand against his chest until you felt him breathe again. “My turn,” you said, taking the joint and taking another drag.

After a few puffs, Viktor is more relaxed and begins to notice things he wouldn't normally comment on. He looks at you with the curiosity of a small child.

“You know, you're surprisingly good at… this” he says as he holds the joint ready for another puff. “I thought only Jayce could convince me to do something stupid, but you seem more effective.”

You laughs, it's a rather polite comment coming from him. “Are you surprised? I have my methods.” You reply mischievously.

“Your methods…” he stares at you for a moment and mutters almost to himself. “They should be exclusive.”

As the joint gets smaller, the effect becomes much more noticeable. Viktor's eyes blink slowly and open like a deer's, his pupils almost completely obscuring the warm iris in his gaze. It doesn't take long for him to let out his first ramblings. By this point, they're both sitting on the floor, each in their own corner of the window with their legs outstretched.

“I like your eyes,” he blurts out of nowhere, clinging to his cane as if he were going to fall off if he doesn't. “It's fascinating. Like…like…like you're catching light in a jar.” He says with the sweetest smile you've ever seen. You're a bit stunned by his words, used to the reserved and serious Viktor, this is all a new air, you play along.

“Wow, was that a compliment? I should write it down for posterity,” you say, laughing. You've received compliments before, from people much more sober than Viktor is now, but it's different, that compliment hits differently, behind all the cool and carefree facade that comment manages to pierce your heart and leaves you sighing for that new side of Viktor. As if you discovered how hungry you were to receive something from him.

Viktor replied, with a smile that exuded confidence “You don’t need to write it down. I can tell you whenever you forget.”

You sighed “You’ll regret that so much when you’re sober…” you said. You didn’t want to take his words seriously, after all, believing someone on drugs was like believing someone drunk and that almost never went well. But it was advice that your own mind threw away right now.

While they were talking, Viktor, under the effects of the joint, began to think things that he normally wouldn’t say. “Why are you always so comfortable with Jayce?” he asks, letting his head fall against the wall, leaving his neck and collarbones bathed in light on display.

Confused, you arch an eyebrow “What? Jayce and I are friends, and he’s my boss, it would be terrible if I didn’t get along with him. Why are you asking?”

Viktor turns his gaze to you, you can feel a huge chill as you become his target, his hand playing with the cane at his side.

“You always laugh with him. You always flutter around him.” He says with a certain bitter tone that you can’t quite decipher. “It’s like he’s the only one who can make you laugh, the only one who deserves to enjoy you. I wish to have that.”

His answer surprises and intrigues you at the same time, you lean a little towards him wearing a mocking smile. The window isn’t very big, so it’s not like you’re far away anyway. “Are you jealous, Viktor?” The way you taste his name like honey runs through every nerve in his spine.

He’s clearly blushing, but he doesn’t back down, after all he has nothing to lose, if something goes wrong he’ll blame the drugs for everything.

“Maybe I am. What’s wrong with wanting your attention for me alone? Can't I want you?”

His words momentarily silence you, surprised by his sincerity. Something he takes advantage of to get closer to you, something you never thought he would do, he leans on his cane and before you know it your legs are trapped between his, and his free hand rests on your shoulder, caressing his way to your neck with his fingers. He looks so… surprisingly desperate, his breathing is irregular and his grip on his cane is weak. Having him so close makes the heat emanating from his body combine with yours, your heart is racing to have him so close and you have to use all your will not to do something stupid.

“It’s frustrating, you know? Seeing how you have such a good time with him and then you’re just silent with me… Don’t I deserve your laughter? Don’t I deserve your company?” You don't know how it hurts to want you, to want your smile, to want your gaze only on me, to want your touch desperately and see how you give it to someone else..." A gasp escapes his face and his body collapses, falling on your hip making you gasp in shock, everything is a mess "Want me, just want me."

"Viktor... You're... you're drugged... You're not seeing clearly." Your heart officially stops, his weight is against you, you can't and don't want to move. Each of his words ignites something inside you that could devour everything in its path.

He laughs, maybe because of nerves, maybe because of the effect of the grass or the tingling that your hands leave behind on his body, but he just laughs "I see enough to not want to share you with anyone else."

His gaze, normally focused and distant, now burned with something that seemed uncontrollable. There was tension in the air, a pent-up hunger that exploded the moment your arms wrapped around his neck.

He didn't wait any longer. With a quick, determined movement, he pulled you close, his cane clattering against the floor as he forgot about everything but you. His lips met yours with an almost brutal force, colliding with the intensity of lightning in the middle of a storm.

The first kiss was a chaos of urgency. Your mouths sought each other out like there was no tomorrow, lips parted, deep gasps escaping between each encounter. Viktor pushed you against the wall, his heavy, ragged breathing echoing in your ears. His hands, normally careful, were now hungry, desperate. One moved up your waist, running down your back under the fabric of your clothes, while the other leaned against the wall, locking you against his body.

You let yourself go completely, your fingers burying themselves in Viktor’s brown, tousled hair. His lips moved in a chaotic rhythm, alternating between wet kisses, bites on your lower lip, and that feverish exploration of your tongues that lit up your entire body. The soft sound of your mouths colliding and your panting filled the air, accompanied by your hands that now ran over his chest, his abdomen, without stopping.

When Viktor broke the kiss, it wasn’t to break away, but to drag his lips down your jaw, down to your neck. There, he left a series of wet, almost wild kisses, lightly sucking on the skin with a wet sound that drew a moan from your throat.

“You are...” he murmured against your neck, his voice raspy, broken, “incredible. I don’t want to stop.”

His words felt like caresses, so charged with emotion that your body trembled under his touch. Viktor's hands now slid down your waist, slowly moving up, exploring it with a reverence laden with desire. Each touch was a reminder of how much pent-up passion this man so accustomed to solitude harbored for you.

"Viktor..." you gasped against his neck, but he took your mouth again, cutting you off with another fierce kiss.

The sound of rustling clothes, of uneven breathing, and Viktor's soft grunts as he lost himself in you filled the room. His body was completely pressed against yours, and every movement of his seemed to be aimed at etching his presence into you, as if he feared it could all fade away at any moment.

When they finally broke apart, their lips were swollen, and their chests rose and fell rapidly. Viktor's eyes, normally filled with logic and calculation, were now deep pools of desire and devotion, reflecting every emotion he couldn't put into words.

“This isn’t enough,” he confessed, his voice shaking slightly as he looked at you as if you were the only important thing in the world. “It will never be enough with you.”

Your breathing was still ragged, the air between you filled with an almost palpable heat. Viktor kept his forehead resting against yours, his eyes closed, while his hand remained firmly on your waist, as if letting go was unthinkable.

“This is dangerous...” Viktor murmured, although the tremble in his voice made it clear that the idea of stopping was an almost impossible challenge. His fingers continued to absentmindedly trace the curve of your back, as if his body refused to break contact.

“More dangerous than what you do with Hextech?” you replied in a whisper, sketching a slight smile, trying to lighten the tension of the moment.

Viktor’s response was caught in his throat when you both suddenly heard the echo of footsteps in the hallway. You both tensed instantly, your bodies rigid as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over both of you. Realizing for the first time that dawn had already arrived and the sun was rising lazily on the horizon, the weed turned the hours into moments.

“Viktor, are you there?” Jayce’s deep, confident voice echoed just outside the door.

Viktor’s eyes snapped open, his pupils still dilated from the intensity of the moment. He cursed under his breath as he grabbed his cane from the floor, gesturing quickly towards the work table. You understood what he meant.

With your heart about to explode, you helped him stand up and hurried to adjust your clothes and move away from him, although your legs were shaking slightly from the heat still burning in your body. You pretended as best you could that nothing had happened, he walked over to his desk and you grabbed some papers from the floor.

The door opened barely a second later, not giving you time to fully regain your composure. Jayce walked in with his usual relaxed attitude, but his gaze narrowed instantly as he noticed the strange atmosphere that filled the room.

“Am I interrupting something…didn’t you go home Y/N?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, looking first at Viktor and then at you, lingering a second longer than necessary on your slightly swollen lips.

Viktor, always quick to react, stood up with his cane and pointed at a pile of papers scattered on his table.

“Nothing at all,” he said in his usual tone, though the slight blush on his cheeks betrayed his feigned calm. “We were just going over some calculations and cleaning up your mess.”

Jayce narrowed his eyes, clearly suspicious. He took in Viktor’s messy locks, the flushed cheeks on your face, and that palpable tension floating between the two of you.

“Going over calculations?” he repeated slowly, letting the phrase hang in the air with a mocking tone as he crossed his arms. “Because it seems that something else happened here.”

You forced a nervous smile as you began to organize the papers on the table, pretending the comment was outlandish. “Oh, come on Jayce, what could possibly happen here?” Your heart was still beating like a drum in your ears. Viktor, for his part, adjusted his posture and gave Jayce a sharp look, full of exasperation.

“If you have something important to say, do it quickly. We’re busy.” Viktor’s voice was sharp, as if he were trying to firmly divert attention.

Jayce tilted a smile, clearly amused by his friend’s reaction, but raised his hands in surrender.

“Relax, it’s nothing urgent. I just wanted to ask you something, but I can go get coffee while you finish. I don’t want to… interrupt your calculations.”

The emphasis on the last word followed him to the door, where he gave one last suspicious look before disappearing down the hall.

When the door finally closed, the silence in the room was deafening. You let out a nervous laugh, bringing your hand to your mouth, while Viktor let out a long sigh and let himself lean back against the table, holding himself up with one hand.

“This can’t happen again,” he murmured, though his eyes, still fixed on you, burned with an unmistakable desire that contradicted every word. “I don’t know how you make my brain feel so… scattered and focused at the same time.”

You smile and he replies mischievously as you drop your forehead on his shoulder, your breath brushing his neck. “It’s my secret talent.”

Viktor watches you for a moment and adds softly, “Then, save it for me.”

“Viktor, I think you’re too high to give romantic speeches.” You laugh softly and give him a small pinch on the arm.

“Maybe… but I’m not so high that I don’t know I want more than what’s happened tonight.” His arms wrap around your waist in a hug. His chest heaves with a small laugh. “Shall we have breakfast at my house?”

The answer is more than clear.

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

💕Thank you for the 100 followers even though we already passed 4 more, thank you for everything💕

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eatmyheartoutjpg · 4 months ago

Text

AMNESIA ;; Headcanons. Rom. SFW. Jayce gets amnesia and seems to forget you're in a relationship, queue him falling in love with you and trying to woo you all over again.

12.08.24 Masterlist

— Jayce’s amnesia was from an unexpected lab accident while testing one of his latest inventions (one Viktor said not to go through with)

— As usual, anything with Hextech has good odds of exploding. The explosion left Jayce with a few injuries, but nothing major as he was luckily able to scramble away before impact.

— One issue, Jayce hit his head hard. And it seems like his memories are fragmented, scattered about.

— Viktor is the one who informs you about his condition, and though he’s not one for sentimentality, he gives you a subtle "good luck" look, clearly amused by the situation

— When Jayce first sees you after waking up, he immediately recognizes you as someone important but can’t quite place why. His heart races, but he assumes it’s because you’re ridiculously attractive.

— “Wow, uh, hi. Do we… work together?” He stumbles over his words, completely oblivious to the fact that he’s greeted you every morning with a kiss for months.

— You quickly learn that trying to convince him about your relationship outright doesn’t work. He seems too embarrassed to believe it’s true without some "evidence."

— Even with amnesia, his personality remained the same

— Jayce quickly becomes enamored with your kindness and presence. Even though he doesn't remember your relationship, he finds himself gravitating toward you, making excuses to spend more time together.

— He gets flustered and awkward whenever you’re near, suddenly back to his old self before you were a couple—blushing and overthinking every word he says to you (you thought it was quite cute)

— Viktor watches the entire thing like it’s his favorite drama series, sometimes quietly muttering, “You’re pathetic” when Jayce nervously rehearses ways to ask you out (he's dealt with it the first time, doesn't need a second)

— Jayce goes full “romantic mode,” thinking he’s trying to impress you for the first time. Flowers start appearing at your desk, hand-picked (poorly arranged, but cute nonetheless).

— He invites you to “lunch meetings” that are just dates in disguise. “I thought we could brainstorm over some food?” he says, a little too enthusiastically.

— If you asked where Viktor was, his actual lab partner, he'd shrug and say "He's.. busy"

— His love for grand gestures definitely resurfaced.

— One day, he shows up with a personalized invention—a tiny mechanical gadget shaped like a flower that lights up when you touch it. You don’t have the heart to tell him it’s the same gift he gave you on your last anniversary, but it does warm your heart nonetheless

— Overtime,Jayce gets fleeting moments where things feel oddly familiar. When you instinctively reach for his hand while walking, he feels a spark of recognition but chalks it up to an imagination.

— At one point, you accidentally call him by an affectionate nickname you’ve always used. He freezes, a blush creeping up his neck, and mutters, “I… I think I like when you call me that.”

— And besides that, Jayce gets adorably jealous when anyone else seems to monopolize your attention, even though he can’t quite figure out why he feels so protective over someone he isn't even with

— If someone flirts with you, he awkwardly but assertively inserts himself into the conversation. “Oh, I think they’re busy with me right now.”

— He tries to subtly fish for information about your "type," not realizing he’s literally your type.

— Though tempted to tell him everything outright, you realize how sweet it is to watch him fall for you all over again. It’s like reliving the honeymoon phase of your relationship.

— Everyone else doesn't feel the same, Mel and Viktor both felt a mix of amusement and exhaustion at the constant lovesick rambling Jayce, always talking about you

— Jayce, when he first fell in love with you, was so apparent. But again? It's a romcom at this point.

— Sometimes you drop small hints about your history together. “Funny, you used to make me coffee just like this,” you tease when he tries to impress you with his barista skills.

— At one point, you jokingly ask, “What if I told you we were already dating?” His immediate reaction—widened eyes and a nervous laugh—makes your heart melt.

— After weeks of awkward flirting and unspoken tension, Jayce can’t hold it in any longer. He confesses his feelings in classic dramatic fashion, stumbling over his words but sincere.

— “I know this might sound crazy, but I think… I’m falling for you. Or maybe I’ve already fallen—I don’t know. I just know I don’t want to mess this up.”

— You decide it’s time to fill in the gaps, gently telling him about your relationship. He’s stunned at first but quickly shifts to a mix of relief and happiness. “Wait, so I already got to be with you? And I forgot?! I must be the luckiest idiot alive.”

— Once Jayce knows the truth, he’s even more determined to make up for lost time, showering you with affection and doubling down on all the little things he thinks he missed.

— The two of you create new memories while revisiting old ones, turning the experience into a fresh new chapter in your relationship.

— Jayce jokes that he’ll never take you for granted again, but you know deep down that he never did—even when he didn’t remember, his heart still knew where it belonged.

ˢᵉᵛᵉⁿ

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hy6erion · 2 months ago

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Ughhh I need another Jaymelvik fluff x fem reader, like them cuddling and taking care of eachother (especially after work),just the thought is so cuteeee.

𝐀 𝐌𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐭 - 𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐕𝐢𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✰⍣..𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐥𝐚𝐛 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.

⇢ 𝐧𝐨 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲/𝐧, 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬

The golden glow of Piltover’s streetlights filtered through the grand windows of Mel’s estate, casting long shadows over the luxurious sitting room. A gentle breeze rustled the sheer curtains, carrying the faint scent of rain from the bay. It had been another long day at the Council Hall, another round of exhausting discussions, debates, and, in Jayce’s case, a fair share of exasperated sighs.

But finally—finally—they were home.

You barely had the chance to kick off your heels before strong arms wrapped around your waist from behind. Jayce buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply as his broad chest pressed against your back.

“Missed you,” he murmured, voice heavy with exhaustion.

You let out a soft hum, leaning into him, your hands resting over his. “You saw me all day.”

Jayce huffed a little laugh, squeezing you tighter. “Yeah, but you were too busy being all professional and important.”

A quiet chuckle sounded from the chaise lounge, where Mel sat with her long legs elegantly crossed, a glass of red wine in hand. “He pouted every time you spoke to someone else,” she teased, swirling the liquid in her glass.

“I did not,” Jayce protested, finally letting you go.

Viktor, who was perched on the armrest of the lounge, shot him an amused glance over his book. “You absolutely did.” His accent thickened slightly with fatigue, and the way he rubbed his temple told you he had a migraine brewing—no doubt from overworking himself in the lab again.

You sighed and crossed the room, gently plucking the book from his hands. “That’s enough reading for tonight.”

Viktor made a weak sound of protest but didn’t argue when you nudged him to shift so you could sit beside him. As soon as you were settled, he rested his head in your lap with a weary sigh, eyes fluttering shut as your fingers found their way into his soft auburn hair.

Jayce, not one to be left out, dropped onto the couch beside you and stretched an arm along the backrest, letting his fingers lazily play with the ends of your hair.

Mel observed the scene with a smirk, finishing her wine before gracefully standing. “I suppose I’ll have to be the responsible one tonight.”

Jayce groaned. “Mel, don’t leave, you’re the only thing keeping this from becoming a full-on dogpile.”

She hummed in thought before walking over, her silk robe slipping slightly off her shoulder as she moved. “I suppose I could stay—if someone fetches me another glass of wine.”

“I’ll get it,” Jayce offered immediately, springing up with surprising energy for someone who had been grumbling about exhaustion just moments ago.

Viktor cracked one eye open. “Amazing how quickly he recovers when there’s a chance to impress.”

Mel smirked and took Jayces abandoned spot on the lounge, stretching out with the elegance of a lounging cat. You let out a soft laugh, your fingers still threading through Viktor’s hair. He made a pleased noise at the sensation, pressing slightly into your touch.

“Mm, I should overwork myself more often,” he murmured, voice drowsy.

You tsked, lightly flicking his forehead. “No, you shouldn’t. I swear, you work yourself into the ground just to have an excuse to be spoiled.”

His lips curled into a knowing smile, but he didn’t deny it.

Jayce returned with a fresh glass of wine for Mel, dropping back onto the couch with a sigh. He stretched out, slinging an arm around you while his other hand found Viktor’s shoulder, giving it a warm squeeze.

“Alright, I say no more talk about work,” Jayce declared. “No council drama, no lab experiments—just us.”

Mel took a slow sip of her wine, considering. “A bold proposal. What do you suggest we do instead?”

Jayce smirked, leaning in closer to you. “Cuddles.”

Viktor snorted. “You make it sound so romantic.”

“I happen to think cuddling is very romantic,” you said, pressing a kiss to Viktor’s temple before turning to nuzzle against Jayce’s shoulder.

Jayce grinned triumphantly. “See? She agrees.”

Mel exhaled dramatically, setting her glass aside before settling herself against the cushions. “Fine. But I get to be in the middle next time.”

Viktor huffed a quiet laugh. “We are nothing if not fair.”

Content warmth spread between you all, limbs tangled as exhaustion finally began to melt away. Jayce’s hand lazily stroked your arm, while Mel’s fingers traced absent-minded patterns along your thigh. Viktor, half-asleep in your lap, let out a pleased sigh whenever your nails gently scratched his scalp.

The weight of the day faded, replaced by the quiet comfort of being wrapped up in each other. No responsibilities, no expectations—just warmth, laughter, and the unspoken promise of another tomorrow, together.

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goshtoon · 5 months ago

Text

NEEDS

Jayce x gn!reader (established relationship)

Wordcount: 3k

Warnings: 18+, fluff, sub!Jayce, Thighjob, hurt/comfort (a bit), pre mental illness influx, still crying while sex (male giving),

Heavy footfalls echo trough the silent floor, each one wearier than the last.

As former student, turned to up-starting inventor, now turned councilor: Jayce Talis commands his limbs to obey him for merely five minutes more.

The pressure of being a protector to not only his close circle but all of piltover weighing each step down more than the last.

On top of that he had a fall out with Viktor, who seemed to only get more weak by the day, as his illness festers within him.

Jayce suppresses a broken sob, lifting his palm to steady himself upon one of the walls, before regaining his ragged pace.

It’s all too much, he feels as though he might just crumble to the floor and sob waiting for his mothers grounding hands to comb through his locks.

But there’s something much more reachable, and arguably just as soothing.

You, and your firm presence, the perhaps only unchanging constant, waiting for him just through the door at the end of the stretching hall.

At the sight of your apartment door, Jayce’s body gets a rush, as if pricked by a needle, as something starts tugging within his chest.

An undeniable yearning pressing his feet to move faster, fishing out the key you had made for him.

It clicks in the lock and he moves in, pressing himself against the shut door heaving a low sigh.

„There you are…“ your voice drifts to his ears, almost as if cradling them each in some healing balm.

He finds himself unable to open his dry lips to speak back, almost as if something got stuck in his throat.

You’re clad in your sleep wear, having seemingly come from the kitchen, a steaming cup lodged between your hands.

Taking him in it doesn’t take a genius to take a guess at how he’s feeling. Tussled hair, a twitching hand, the slightly hunched back and his wobbling reddened bottom-lip.

These past few weeks it’s become a scarily common occurrence.

Brows furrowed, you step forward taking one of his shaky hands in your own, gently leading it to cradle the warm mug.

The warmth seeps into his skin, soothing the tension striking through his fingers. Letting out a small more content sigh he smiles at you, your own face mirroring his as you lean up to peck his lips. He almost collapsed into the kiss, desperately letting your warm soft lips mold against his own, bitten bloody on his own volition.

Pulling back, you give a gentle smile, partnered with his own lovestruck one.

„Don’t feel like talking right now?“ you incline your head, his own still too full of worry to form words, he wouldn’t know where to begin.

A slight tilt of his head confirms his intent to rest his voice for now, as you lead him into your living space.

It’s beyond dark out by now, and the main source of light are the fairylights strung all around the living room, that he made for you. They illuminate your shape in a golden like hue, as you cradle his unoccupied hand and draw him onto the couch.

„Now how about you sit here finish your tea and I give you a small massage?“ you quip up, a tender finger drawing circles on his palm.

The thought of your hands on him, gliding over his shoulders, his back and drifting lower and lower— do unspeakable things to his already spinning head. Mangled rotten worrisome thoughts are now partnered with guilt for the undeniable lust pulsing through him.

The thought of worrying about nothing at all, while you pamper him with all means at your disposal, a delightful prospect nesting in his emptying mind. Though the fear of not performing as he should, as he would want rips into the rosy notions.

He visibly deflates, rubbing his neck, giving a low hum.

„I’d love that“ he croaks, you perk up, moving behind the couch to rest your hands on his jacket. Slowly and gently you pry it off of him, with a little help from the wearer.

The mere ambience, you and the echoing silence seem to do wonders on Jayce’s static filled mind, as he closes his eyes and leans back into your touch.

You make sure to fold the jacket on the armrest, before starting of gently on his shoulders. Feeling the amount of tightness, as you give a considering hum, making sure to rub firm circles into them.

Jayce’s body goes slack under your calculated movements, his head falling back into the backrest, giving you a beautiful view of his visibly relaxing face.

His lashes flutter, as his lips part gently letting out small huffs of air and noises of distinct approval when you unfurl a particularly tight spot.

You almost lose yourself in the task, finding the sight of him and the noises to be the most rewarding of things.

“You’re incredible” he breaths, his eyes still closed and you believe the stray praise is more instinctive rather than targeted.

Making sure to firmly yet gently disperse all the knots within his muscles.

It doesn’t take long before Jayce is almost slipping off the couch, his body turning into putty beneath your firm touches.

“There we are” you mutter gently, earning a content sigh from the man who now gazes at you with his amber eyes, the most lovestruck expression gracing his sculpted features, the teacup long abandoned on the coffee table.

“Wow” he smiles at you, fumbling to upright himself. Having seemingly significant trouble, probably due to parts of his body having fallen asleep.

When he finally does his hands gently lay upon your hips as he presses a gentle kiss to the area above your stomach within reach of his still sitting frame.

“Thank you” he mumbles, snuggling into the previously kissed area, as you comb through his stray locks.

He’s still in his head you note, though his body may seem free of tension.

“How about you get ready for bed” you murmur, earning a huff from Jayce, his arms tightening around your waist, holding you steady like an anker.

Having to resist the urge to let him mope like this

As adorable as he is whiningly pouting like this, you have another idea how to get him to unwind even more— and for that you need him in bed.

“If you get to bed, I might have something for you” you whisper, his gaze snaps up as he gauges your mischievous smile and raises brow.

“I see” he grins up boyishly, before letting go of you and propping himself off the couch.

He wavers a bit, instinctively you reach out a steading hand though your lovers catches himself, uttering out a slight curse.

The plan forming in your mind, is to get Jayce to bed, knowing him though his body might be at ease no, his mind is most certainly still full of worry. Full of worry for Viktor, the council, the city both upper and under parts. You know it’s getting to him, having to take a place to make live changing decisions when you were just a mere inventor.

Hoping to be able to get him to lose himself for the night you gather a few things, hearing the unmistakable clatter of Jayce rifling through your stuff, most likely searching for some of his own clothes.

Though he has been around a lot more since joining the council, he technically hadn’t moved in yet.

“On the cupboard” you shout across the floor, hearing a pause before the clicking of his tongue.

Collecting a bottle of chamomile oil, taking a quick waft of it and a towel— you make your way to the bedroom yourself.

The scene upon entering is one which leaves your heart aching, Jayce fumbling with the top buttons of his shirt, seemingly a puzzle to his weary fingers.

Stepping forward, you lay the bought items on your bed, before laying your palms upon his own. His wide glittering eyes meet yours, as he pouts down in frustration. He lets his arms fall slack to his side as you gently undo the buttons.

„You’re still in your head“ you note, as you see his fingers twitch at his side, urging to do something.

„It feels wrong to rest“ he whispers frustrated, nursing his bottom lip between his teeth. He lets out a sigh as you press your fingers through the crevice of the open shirt, laying your warm palm upon his fuzzy chest.

It’s warm and rising as well as falling steadily, while his heart thumping beneath picks up speed when you coo at him.

„Jayce, pushing yourself like this, it’s taking from your ability to help when it might truly count..“

You’re meet with silence, your words might ring true within him tough he can’t accept them right now. He has a lot of people counting on him.

„It’s okay for now“ you move to turn, hands slipping of his chest.

Before your left hand can fall to your side he grasps for it, before pulling it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to your wrist.

„Come here“ you shift to sit on the bed, tugging him along, his weight finding its place beside you.

„You can’t resolve all the cities troubles in one night“ you remind, his face a reflection of his inner turmoil, before he sighs and his shoulders sack.

„You’re right“ he smiles at you, though his eyebrows still mirror his distress.

Then his eyes shift onto the items laid upon the comforter. His face visibly flushing at the sight of the oil, knowing very well what its usage usually entails.

„I’m not sure if I could relax enough for—„ seeing where his thoughts are headed you are quick to lay your hand upon his thigh.

„No, that’s not what I had in mind— I was thinking of something else“ his initial thought rings in your mind, having thought about it earlier though sensing he might be in need of something else for now.

„And what’s that?“ he leans closer, you love him when he gets like this. It’s always such a stark contrast to when you both actually go at it, and he’s reduced to something more akin to a whining mutt.

„How about you lose the slacks and find out?“ you tease, shifting your form fully into the bed.

The pants are seemingly less of a challenge than the shirt was and in mere seconds Jayce’s frame clad in a lose linen shirt and a lose pair of underpants joins you.

„Those too“ you instruct, Jayce faltering as his gaze follows the point of your own, as you spread the towel you’ve brought earlier on the bed.

Gently he pries the underpants off, and no matter how many times you two do this it does not sway his face from flushing.

“Ah” he’s not only flush in his face you come to realize, but his cockhead has similarly flushed, a spurt of pre beading at the tip.

“My, Jayce, maybe I needn’t massage your insides anymore if a mere shoulder massage gets you just as excited” the remark gets him to gasp under his breath, furrowing his brows.

“I’m not opposed to either massages….” He counters, though its leverage falls short with his leaky cock out and twitching.

“Me neither” you remark, getting a hold of the oil, screwing open the cap to drizzle a decent amount onto your hand.

Jayce swallows sharply at the sight of the liquid pouring into your warm waiting palm, wishing it was an other substance.

You don’t need to lend him your pointed gaze to gauge his reaction. To most of Piltover who Jayce is, is by no means a mystery. Though only your sharp gaze truly can pick him apart and know him for what he truly is.

It pleases him to know end, knowing the power your attention holds over him.

Clasping your hands together you spread the oil across your skin, the scent wafting up your nostrils. When your hands are coated evenly you give Jayce an incline of your head.

His gaze is partially glazed over staring at your hands before meeting your gaze, the scent alone doesn’t fail to remind him off past intimacy, his cock already straining in his lose slacks.

“Please” it’s not exactly what you were hoping for, but what he pleads for is evident, when it’s punctuated with a jutting of his hips.

The warm digits of your fingers slowly take his twitching cock into their warm slick embrace. As you slowly nurse over the shaft, Jayce keeps the back of his hand over his face, his mouth agape in a silent moan.

Your left hand moves you the shaft, your palm doing circular motions over his leaking tip, whilst the other pays attention to his balls, gently coating them in a thin sheen of oil.

“I— can’t ah-“ Jayce is evidently overwhelmed, his face adopting one of your favorite expressions, with his eyes unfocused, face a flush and eyebrows furrowed.

Just when he starts to hump up into your hand you swiftly pull them both back. A whine bubbling from within Jayce’s chest as he heaves out a small sob.

The sound is not an uncommon indication for his pleasure to rough you lean over his lying frame to make sure he’s still with you.

“Hey there” you mumble

“Eh- hey” he responds, still breathing a bit heavily.

“Are you still okay with proceeding?” He finally meets your gaze, one you meet with a gentle smile. His own lips not quirking up but his eyes shimmer in determination as he eagerly nods.

“Good, now i need you to lay on your side like this” you pull back situating yourself on your side, Jayce slowly props himself up before paralleling your pose.

“Like this?”

“Yes, very good, a bit closer perhaps” his brow furrows a tad but he does as instructed without queries, his hand hovering above your hip.

Before he can move to do anything else you pull down your own sleep wear, your arousal very apparent.

Jayce’s eyes take you in immediately, his darkened gaze drinking in the sight of your wet twitching need, ultimately at arm’s length.

When his eyes drift up to your face again you’ve gotten a bit more oil into your hand, reaching down to spread it across your thighs.

Right about now he’s glad you took the time earlier to spread a towel on top of the blanket as he watched with bated breath how your thighs starts glistening much like his cock.

It’s probably about now that he realizes your intent, his face growing impossibly red as his lower lips starts shaking. He’s readily embarrassed, having admitted in a drunken stupor not long ago that he’s had a very similar fantasy akin to what you’ve constructed for a while now. With him being as busy as he is as of late, you’d both hadn’t come to have a lot of time to be intimate. Despite that, he had counted on you having forgotten about this particular confession, as he found himself embarrassed to have admitted it in a weakened state.

“Gods…” he whispers at the sight of your shining thighs so close to his pulsing need.

“You still in this sweetheart?” You murmur, leaning close to peek at the corner of his mouth.

He presses out a pathetic string of yes yes yes yes, as he tries chasing after your lips with his own.

“Good, put it between then.” You instruct gently, denying him of another kiss for now.

Instinctively Jayce juts his hip forward, the leaky tip of his cock pressing a brief kiss against the crevice between your thighs. You let out a sharp breath, gauging Jayce’s expression, as another whine slips from his lips.

“Slowly” you coo at him, laying your hand on his own, allowing him to find purchase against your waist.

Granted he tries to go slow, but pressing forth, the tight warmth of your slippery thighs, enclosing his throbbing cock, ultimate leads to an irrational thrust. Embracing his sensitive shaft fully.

Jayce head spins almost painfully as his thoughts wholly become consumed by the sensation of you.

“Wo— I- mu-ch better than anticipated…” he sobs and you see small tears pearl at the corner of his eyes.

Your hands reach up to cradle his cheeks as well as disperse the oncoming droplets.

“You’re doing amazing” the praise makes the hard appendage between your thighs throb, Jayce pulling at your hips to press his cock further through your thighs. His cock head jutting against your own arousal at the sudden movement.

“Jayce—“ you warn, when he burrows his face in your neck, his lips molding against your jaw to a leave a trail of apology kisses.

“‘M sorry” he sobs, and you gently embrace him, drawing small circles on his back.

“It’s okay” you whisper, as you start moving your hips back and forth gently. A shiver wreaks through his frame, as he buries his nose against the crock of your neck.

“There you are” you say pressing your thighs together putting pressure on jayces shaft.

The action makes him grow rigid as he Pulls you impossibly close. Spurts of his release pairing the inside of your thighs, bursting out below your ass.

Jayce tosses his head back, and you take the chance to nibble at his jaw, littering it with kisses as he rides out his orgasm high.

He suppresses a string on sobs, his face tear streaked as you part your thighs. His hand shots out, pressing it back down.

“Please” you stare at him, noting the need to just bask in this, your, warmth a bit more.

“Okay, we can stay like this for now”

You look behind yourself taking note of the mess

“Really glad I thought of a towel, such a mess” you playfully tsk, turning to Jayce as his face grows redder.

“It was definitely worth it” he utters “I think I wanna pull out now”

You slowly raise your thigh, as Jayce pulls back in tandem, falling onto his back.

Then shifts onto his side again facing from you, you’re familiar with the gesture, pulling around his frame from the back as he lets out a very content sigh.

“I need to tell you of fantasies while pissed beyond comprehension more often”

“You can tell me anytime, Jayce” he cuddles back into your frame, you pressing your lips against his shoulder blade.

“I know”

#jayce talis #arcane #jayce arcane #jayce talis x reader #sub!jayce #arcane fanfic #x Reader

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aspenmissing · 2 months ago

Note

How about the Arcane folks with and S/O that is a polyglot but it’s never really come into play before until they’re caught singing idly in another language, maybe just going about some mindless task. (Personally, I can sing tunes in German, Italian, French, and Japanese). I dunno. I just thought it would be neat. The first time I heard my mother speaking in Latin, and thus realized she spoke Latin blew my mind!

ᴍᴜʟᴛɪʟɪɴɢᴜᴀʟ ᴍᴇʟᴏᴅɪᴇꜱ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 3303 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴ/ᴀ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀꜱ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ!! ɪ ᴅᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ, ɪ ᴍᴀɴᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴀʀᴄʜ ᴜᴘ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴜꜱᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʟʏʀɪᴄꜱ, ꜱᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ꜰᴏʀɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ɪꜰ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪꜱ ᴡʀᴏɴɢ! ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜱᴏ ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴄᴏᴏʟ, ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴅᴀᴍɴ ᴘʀᴏᴜᴅ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ!! ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ꜱᴏ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪꜰᴜʟ! <3

JAYCE - ITALIAN

The warm glow of the late afternoon sun filtered through the high windows of the workshop, casting elongated golden streaks across the scattered blueprints and tools. Y/N moved around the cluttered space, absentmindedly humming as she wiped down a worktable, her voice barely above a whisper as she shifted into soft, melodic Italian.

"Volare, oh oh… Cantare, oh oh oh oh… Nel blu, dipinto di blu… Felice di stare lassù…" ("Nel blu, dipinto di blu" by Domenico Modugno)

Jayce paused in the doorway, hand still resting on the frame. He had come looking for her, some half-formed question about a mechanism on the tip of his tongue, but now? Now, he stood utterly frozen, captivated.

Y/N had always been a presence in his life—sharp-witted, endlessly patient with his occasional bouts of genius and recklessness alike. He knew her, or so he had thought. But never had he heard her voice like this. Never had he known that she spoke another language, let alone sang so effortlessly in one.

He took a step forward, boots clicking against the tiled floor. Y/N, still unaware of his presence, continued singing, her voice weaving around the tune with a kind of careless grace. It wasn’t a performance—it was something unguarded, natural, like breathing.

Jayce cleared his throat, a little awkwardly. “Well, that’s new.”

Y/N startled, her hands gripping the rag she’d been using. She turned, eyes wide for a fraction of a second before they softened in recognition. “Jayce.”

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” He smiled, stepping further into the room. “I just—since when do you speak Italian?”

A slow, knowing smile curled her lips. “Since always?” she teased. “It’s not something that usually comes up when we’re debating stabilizer cores or arcane conductivity.”

Jayce huffed a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, fair point. But, damn, Y/N, you’re—” He hesitated, searching for the right word. “—really good. That was beautiful.”

She shrugged, setting the rag aside. “It’s just something I picked up over the years. I like languages. Guess I never had a reason to show off before.”

Jayce tilted his head, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “How many?”

Y/N grinned, leaning against the table. “Enough.”

He let out a short laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners. “That’s not an answer.”

“It is if I want to be mysterious,” she countered playfully.

Jayce shook his head, crossing his arms. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

She simply smirked and, just for fun, replied in flawless Piltover-accented Shuriman, “And you’ve only just begun to notice?”

Jayce blinked. Then blinked again. “Oh, now you’re just showing off.”

Y/N only winked before turning back to her task, resuming her song as if he hadn’t just been completely blindsided by this new revelation.

Jayce grinned to himself, watching her for a moment longer before shaking his head and heading back out.

Yeah. He was definitely in trouble.

VIKTOR - LATIN

The soft hum of a melody drifted through Viktor’s laboratory, curling in the air like a whispered secret. At first, he barely noticed it, his mind too tangled in the intricate blueprints spread across his desk. But as the voice grew stronger, words threading into a song, his quill stilled, suspended mid-air.

Latin.

He recognized it immediately. The cadence, the lyrical rise and fall, each syllable shaped with effortless grace. It was old—ancient, even—woven with history and meaning, yet it rolled from Y/N’s lips as if it were second nature.

"Dona nobis pacem, Domine," she sang softly, the prayer-like plea slipping past her lips as she worked. The words—Grant us peace, O Lord—carried an almost hypnotic rhythm, reverberating through the quiet of the lab. ("Dona Nobis Pacem Domine" by Taize)

He turned in his chair, gripping the handle of his cane as he stood. His gaze swept the room until he found her. She was entirely oblivious to his scrutiny, her focus set on some absentminded task. A book she had borrowed from his collection lay open beside her, but her hands were occupied elsewhere—carefully sorting through small, labeled vials.

The scene was unassuming, yet Viktor found himself unable to look away.

“Your pronunciation is quite impressive,” he finally said, voice laced with curiosity.

Y/N startled, her song cutting off abruptly. She looked over her shoulder, eyes widening at the sight of him. “Oh—Viktor, I didn’t realize you were listening.”

“You did not think I would notice someone singing in a dead language?” he asked, amusement curling at the edge of his words. He stepped closer, leaning slightly on his cane as he studied her. “Most people struggle with Latin. Yet you speak it as if it is your first tongue.”

A slow smile spread across her lips. “Not my first,” she admitted. “But one of many.”

His brows lifted. “Many?”

She tilted her head, as if considering whether to elaborate. “Languages are… a bit of a hobby of mine.”

A spark of intrigue flickered in his eyes. “How many?”

“Fluently?” She counted off on her fingers. “Six, but I can get by in a handful more.”

Viktor let out a low chuckle, shaking his head in quiet disbelief. “And yet, I have never heard you speak anything beyond our common tongue.”

She shrugged, absentmindedly turning a vial between her fingers. “It never really came up before.”

“Hah,” Viktor mused, rubbing his chin. “I think it is wasted potential.”

She quirked a brow. “Oh?”

He gestured vaguely, his amusement giving way to something thoughtful. “Language is a bridge between minds. A tool for knowledge. And here you are, fluent in six, keeping them hidden away like locked doors.”

Y/N chuckled. “It’s not intentional. I suppose I just never found a reason to bring it up.”

Viktor hummed, watching her with the keen interest of a scientist discovering a new anomaly. Then, in a moment of quiet mischief, he leaned a little closer and, in near-perfect Latin, murmured, "Tum forte rationem reddam tibi" (Then perhaps I should give you a reason)

Y/N blinked, her lips parting in surprise. Then, slowly, she grinned.

“Oh, Viktor,” she said, switching effortlessly into the same language. "Ego amare te videre tentant" (I would love to see you try)

JAYVIK - SPANISH

The apartment smelled heavenly—garlic, onions, and the warm scent of simmering tomatoes filled the air. The soft hum of a familiar voice drifted through the home, accompanied by the quiet clatter of kitchen utensils. Viktor and Jayce, exhausted from a long day at the Academy, stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind them.

Jayce let out a heavy sigh, rolling his shoulders as he toed off his boots. "Something smells amazing."

"And it sounds rather pleasant, too," Viktor added, his brow lifting as he listened more closely. Y/N's voice floated from the kitchen, melodic and warm, the words foreign yet oddly soothing. He leaned against his cane and exchanged a look with Jayce, who was already padding forward to investigate.

They found her standing at the stove, absentmindedly stirring a pot of sauce, hips swaying ever so slightly as she sang to herself. The soft flickering of candlelight reflected off the countertops, bathing the kitchen in a golden glow. Neither of them had ever heard her sing before—at least, not like this.

Her voice was soft yet rich as she sang, "Bésame, bésame mucho, como si fuera esta noche la última vez…" The melody of the classic song carried through the kitchen, gentle and slow, as though she was lost in the moment, not realizing she had an audience. (Bésame Mucho by Andrea Bocelli)

Jayce leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms. "I had no idea you could sing."

Y/N startled slightly, the wooden spoon clattering against the side of the pot as she turned to face them. "Oh! I didn’t hear you come in. How was work?"

"Work was long," Viktor answered, stepping further into the kitchen, his sharp eyes gleaming with amusement. "But this—this is a rather lovely surprise. Spanish, is it?"

Y/N nodded, a little sheepish, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah, I guess I just never really had a reason to mention it before."

Jayce grinned. "You're full of surprises, huh? So, how many languages do you actually speak?"

She hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. "A few."

Viktor let out a soft chuckle, his voice carrying that familiar teasing lilt. "A 'few' could mean anything. Come now, don't be modest."

Y/N smirked and wiped her hands on a towel before turning back to stir the sauce. "Enough to make sure I can always eavesdrop on people when I need to."

Jayce let out a bark of laughter while Viktor shook his head with fond exasperation.

"And yet, you've been keeping this talent from us?" Viktor tsked playfully, stepping closer to press a light kiss to the side of her head. "Very unfair."

Jayce wrapped his arms around her from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder. "You should sing more often. I like it."

She huffed a laugh, leaning into his warmth. "Maybe I will—if you're both good."

Viktor smirked, leaning on his cane as he reached to steal a taste of the sauce. "And what if we are not?"

Y/N swatted his hand away, laughing as she turned back to her cooking. "Then you'll just have to earn it."

The three of them stood there, wrapped in the warmth of home, teasing and laughing, the stress of the day melting away in the glow of the kitchen light.

VANDER - GERMAN

The Last Drop hummed with the usual warmth of an early evening rush, the chatter of patrons mixing with the clink of glasses and the scrape of chairs. Vander leaned against the bar, arms folded, watching as you went about your quiet task—wiping down one of the tables near the back, absentmindedly humming to yourself.

It started with just a soft hum, a quiet melody beneath your breath, something easy, something familiar.

"Guten Abend, gut’ Nacht, mit Rosen bedacht…"

The German words slipped from your lips like silk, effortlessly smooth, flowing through the tavern air. You weren’t even thinking about it, your hands moving on muscle memory as you wiped the wooden surface, swaying slightly to the lullaby’s rhythm.

Vander straightened up, brows lifting as he recognized the unfamiliar tongue. A glance to the side told him he wasn’t the only one caught off guard—Powder sat at a nearby table, her blue eyes wide with curiosity, while Mylo and Claggor exchanged confused looks. Even Vi, who had been mid-drink, lowered her cup with a quirked brow.

You, completely unaware of the sudden attention, kept singing softly as you moved toward another table.

"Mit Näglein besteckt, schlupf unter die Deck…" ("Guten Abend, gut’ Nacht" by Johannes Brahms)

“Since when could she do that?” Mylo muttered, eyes darting between you and Vander.

“Dunno,” Vi murmured, intrigued. “What is that, anyway?”

“It’s… German, I think,” Claggor guessed.

Powder perked up. “Is she casting a spell?!”

Vander chuckled, shaking his head. “No spell, love. Just a song.”

Your voice was warm and gentle, carrying the lullaby with the same tenderness one might use when rocking a child to sleep. The foreign words weren’t harsh or strange; they were beautiful, lyrical in a way that felt like something from a dream.

Vander couldn’t help but smile to himself, resting his chin on his knuckles as he watched you sway slightly with the melody. He’d known you for years, held you close on the coldest of nights, whispered his love against your skin—but this? This was new.

As if sensing the sudden silence around you, you finally looked up, blinking when you caught the whole bar staring. Your singing cut off immediately, and your eyes darted to Vander in confusion.

“What?”

Vander smirked. “Didn’t know you had more secrets, love.”

Your brows furrowed for a beat before realization dawned. “Oh.” You huffed out a small laugh, rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly. “Right. The German thing. Guess that never really came up, huh?”

Powder practically vibrated with excitement. “You speak other languages?!”

You shrugged, a bit bashful under all the attention. “Yeah, a few.”

“How many’s ‘a few’?” Vi pressed, smirking.

You glanced at Vander, who was still watching you with that amused, knowing look, like he was seeing you in a whole new light.

“Uh… seven?”

A collective groan filled the tavern.

“Seven?!” Mylo looked positively betrayed. “Seven damn languages and you never said anything?”

You raised your hands in defence. “It never really came up!”

Powder grabbed your arm with wide, pleading eyes. “Say something cool!”

You laughed, shaking your head before leaning down to murmur in German, “Du bist ein kleiner Wirbelwind, nicht wahr?” (You're a little whirlwind, aren't you?)

The little girl gasped, even though she had no idea what you had just said. “That sounded cool.”

Vi chuckled, shaking her head as she leaned back. “Unbelievable.”

Vander finally pushed himself off the bar and made his way over, slipping an arm around your waist as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “And here I thought I knew everything about you,” he murmured.

You grinned, tilting your head up to him. “Guess I gotta keep you on your toes somehow.”

Vander chuckled, squeezing you just a little tighter. “That you do, love. That you do.”

SILCO - FRENCH

The waters of the harbor lapped lazily against the wooden stilts of the city above, though the sound barely reached the confines of Silco’s office. The dim lanterns flickered against the damp stone walls, casting long shadows over the desk where papers lay scattered—contracts, reports, and coded messages that would shape the underbelly of Zaun before the night was through.

Y/N sat across from him, idly sifting through a stack of documents, her fingers smudged faintly with ink. She had offered to help—an amusing thing, considering the weight of the decisions each page held—but Silco had allowed it. If only to keep her near.

The room was quiet, save for the scratch of his pen against parchment, until something softer slipped into the air.

"Quand il me prend dans ses bras, Il me parle tout bas, Je vois la vie en rose..."

Silco’s pen halted mid-stroke.

His gaze flicked up, sharp and searching. Y/N was unaware, her head tilted slightly as she flipped through another document, her lips parting absentmindedly as she continued.

"Il me dit des mots d’amour, Des mots de tous les jours..."

The melody curled through the air like cigarette smoke, languid and sweet, a stark contrast to the ink-stained dealings of the night. Silco leaned back in his chair, watching her with newfound scrutiny. He had never heard her speak like this before.

Not in that tongue.

“You never told me you spoke Piltover’s language,” he murmured.

Y/N paused, blinking up at him as if only now realizing he had been listening. A small smile tugged at her lips.

“It’s not Piltover’s language,” she corrected. “It’s French. From someplace far.”

Silco hummed, considering this. “I see.” He set his pen down with deliberate slowness, steepling his fingers. “And how many of these tongues do you speak, my dear?”

She smirked, tilting her head. “Enough.”

A scoff of amusement left him. “That’s vague.”

“That’s the point,” she quipped, returning to her work.

But Silco wasn’t done with her just yet. He rose from his chair with that slow, measured grace of his, moving to her side. He plucked the paper from her hands and set it aside, fingers ghosting over her wrist.

“Sing it again.”

She arched a brow. “You just want to hear it because it’s something of me you didn’t know.”

Silco leaned down, his breath warm against her ear as he murmured, “I want to hear it because it sounds like honey when you say it.”

Y/N let out a soft laugh but indulged him, her voice weaving through the room once more.

"Il me parle tout bas, Je vois la vie en rose..." ("La Vie en Rose" by Édith Piaf)

Silco, ever the man who wielded power in words and silence alike, found himself utterly transfixed.

It was one thing to know Y/N—to trace the curve of her body in the dark, to memorize the cadence of her voice in argument and affection. But this?

This was something new. Something unexpected.

And Silco did so enjoy unearthing secrets.

JINX - JAPANESE

Jinx never really paid much attention to the little things—unless they were flashy, explosive, or chaotic. But today, something caught her ear that made her pause mid-tinker.

You were just going about your usual routine, cleaning up the mess she’d made in her latest project, when you started singing. It wasn’t anything particularly grand or dramatic—just soft, idle humming at first. Then the words came, foreign yet fluid, rolling off your tongue effortlessly.

"Kimi to natsu no owari Shourai no yume Ookina kibou wasurenai~" ("Secret Base Kimi ga Kureta Mono" by ZONE)

Jinx squinted, leaning forward from where she sat cross-legged on the floor, tools scattered around her. One of her wrenches dangled loosely from her fingers, forgotten as she honed in on the unfamiliar melody. Her usually chaotic mind latched onto the soft cadence of your voice, the way the words curled and dipped in a way that was completely foreign yet strangely soothing.

“The hell is that?” she blurted out.

You blinked, startled, before turning to her. “Huh?”

Jinx tilted her head, blue braids shifting with the motion. “What was that? That weird—pretty, but weird—thing you were just mumblin’?”

“Oh, uh—Japanese,” you admitted, rubbing the back of your neck. “Just a song I know.”

Jinx's eyes gleamed with curiosity. “Pfft—since when do you know Japanese?”

You shrugged. “Since always?”

Jinx looked at you as if you’d just sprouted a second head. “Okay, first of all—what? And second, you never told me you were some kinda language genius!”

“I mean, it never really came up?”

Jinx huffed, tossing her wrench over her shoulder with a dramatic pout. “Ugh, how could you keep something this cool from me? Do you know other ones?”

You smirked. “A few.”

She squinted suspiciously. “How many’s ‘a few’?”

“...Five. Maybe six?”

Jinx gasped, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you slightly. “Are you serious?! That’s so cool! Do the thing again—sing something!”

You chuckled before obliging, switching languages effortlessly. This time, you chose something in French, the words lilting and elegant, a stark contrast to the chaotic environment of Jinx’s workshop. Jinx leaned in, fascinated, her grin widening with each syllable.

“Ohhh, this is the best thing ever,” she cackled, clapping her hands together. “You gotta teach me something! Oh! No—wait! We should mess with people! Imagine someone tries talkin’ to us and you just hit ‘em with some fancy foreign gibberish! Their brains would short-circuit!”

You shook your head with a chuckle, knowing full well she was already concocting a dozen ridiculous scenarios in her mind.

Jinx suddenly gasped, pointing an accusing finger at you. “WAIT. How many times have you done this and I just didn’t notice? Have you been cursing me out in different languages? OH MY GOD, HAVE YOU BEEN TRASH-TALKING ME IN SECRET?”

You snorted. “No, Jinx. I’d do that to your face.”

Jinx narrowed her eyes at you before breaking into laughter. “Fair enough, fair enough.” She twirled a screwdriver between her fingers before pointing it at you like a conductor’s baton. “Alright, polyglot extraordinaire, you and me? We’re gonna have some fun with this.”

You didn’t know what that meant yet, but knowing Jinx… it probably involved some kind of chaos. And honestly? You weren’t even mad about it.

#Arcane #arcane fandom #arcane fluff #reader insert #jinx x platonic!reader #jayce x reader #jayce x you #jayce talis x reader #jayce x y/n #viktor x y/n #viktor x reader #jayce x reader x viktor #viktor x you #vander x reader #silco x reader #jayvik x reader

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tkpuke · 4 months ago

Note

23 and jayvik pretty please :3

Jayce + Viktor - 23. “Yes…I mean, no!”

author’s note: okay so the plot for this was heavily inspired by @ticklish-ghost , @home-of-the-squirmle and I’s discussion on one of their posts so why not make it into a fic okay? okay cool

It was nearing midnight, the only light shining into the lab through the curtains was the moon and its luminescent stars scattered around the sky. Viktor perched an elbow on the table, leaning his cheek on his hand while reading a book that could hold answers to have them move forward with their project. They were close, but it seemed like they were met with a dead end. Scientists don’t take those lightly, so they hungrily search for other possibilities and correct their mistakes on what went wrong.

He doesn’t have a clue on his partner’s whereabouts, but he’s not going to waste time searching for him. Usually Viktor takes the extra mile and works on projects a little more than he’s suppose to. He tends to struggle with the definition of teamwork when he’s been mostly alone his entire childhood, so he has no issue working alone while Jayce heads off for other duties or sleeps at a healthy time compared to Viktor’s sleep schedule.

It was peaceful and quiet. Viktor treasures nights like these. Until something was dropped beside him, creating a loud thunk.

“Look what I made.” A voice suddenly spoke out from behind, it belonging to Jayce which made Vitkor nearly jump a foot from his chair. “Jesus Christ—Jaycewhendidyougethere-“ He looked beside him to see what was dropped, picking it up to examine. An iron knife in the perfect size to fit in your pocket, the ends in a twisted pattern to make it look a little stylish. His face doesn’t show it, but Viktor is slightly impressed. There is no interest in him for weapons, but when it’s created so clean and perfected by Jayce himself, he can’t help but be in awe.

He then puts the knife down, finally meeting Jayce’s eyes. “Another tool that will never be used for its purpose.” Clear to say Jayce has made a couple of tools, most having the same theme: sharp and dangerous. He never uses them, as Viktor stated, but Jayce always gives the ‘you never know’ excuse. In reality the man just gets bored out of his mind at times and gets these random surges of creativity to go down and make any toys his heart desires. Who wouldn’t if they had the skill to properly do so?

Viktor’s eyes started to register that Jayce is full on shirtless right in front of him, muscles exposed and pumped to its core from all the wielding. It never really dawned on him how strong of a guy Jayce is, feeling a bit fragile and small the more he compared his own build to him. How easy it could be for Jayce to effortlessly pin him. How he could take away Viktor’s right to squirm by simply sitting on his waist. How he could be picked up with one singular arm by Jayce with zero sweat.

Jayce caught on to his more than five second stare. Viktor noticed.

He took attention to the soot covered all over Jayce’s upper body, taking that as an explanation of his longing stare. “You’re dirty. Here, sit.” Viktor nudged his head over to a nearby chair, heading over to grab a cloth that will soon be damped with water and soap. “Oh, thank you. You really don’t have to.” Jayce chuckles all flustered in appreciation by Viktor’s care, taking the seat anyway. Viktor comes back, starting to dab the cloth on his shoulders while he works his way down. “Hmph, I’ve seen you sleep before in this state. Least I can do is help you get cleaned up.”

“Hey, I get too exhausted sometimes!” Jayce replies defensively, but gives a soft smile at the end. He grabs the knife he created earlier, fingers feeling around it. “You have to admit, this one looks a bit cooler than the others I have made.” Viktor nods in somewhat agreement, now focusing on the upper chest to clean off. “You can keep it, if you want to of course.”

Viktor shakes his head, not meeting Jayce’s eyes while conversing. “There’s no need for me to have it, but thank you for your…kind offer.”

“You’re keeping it.” Jayce responds back with, putting it on top of the open book Vitkor was previously reading so he won’t forget to take it with him. The other only sighs, being aware it’s a losing battle to argue with Jayce when he’s so set on gifting someone something they’ve never asked for. It’s one of the man’s many love languages: giving gifts.

His hand started moving down more, getting near his upper ribs. A quick shift of change in Jayce’s demeanor, beginning to have trouble sitting still like before and biting down his lip hard. Viktor catches on. Of course he did when he begin to rub the cloth against his body more gently, hoping it sent a ticklish shockwave. Revenge was right in front of him from all the times Viktor was ruthlessly, in his opinion, tickled silly by Jayce who never shot down an opening opportunity to do so. Little to Jayce’s knowledge, Viktor has been seeking out opportunities himself to get back. The whole idea of touch is just a subject he awkwardly moves around in, never having someone so playful and lovingly touchy like Jayce in his life.

With the way Jayce was squirming and huffing air out of his nose to suppress the giggles forming in his throat, it fueled newfound confidence in Viktor’s actions. He took it a step further, pretending a spot of soot around Jayce’s ribs was giving him difficulty to rub off, so he pressed his fingers deeper while curling them a little.

Not expecting the firmer touch along with feeling nails through the cloth gliding around his ribs freely, a surprised gasp slips out. Small giggles came right after, instinctively grabbing ahold of Viktor’s wrist. Viktor raises a brow, feigning confusion. “Sorry, does this tickle?”

“Yes…I mean, no!” Jayce got too distracted from the ticklish grazes that the question failed to register on time for him to think of an answer that may save his dignity. Viktor nudges Jayce’s firm grip off of his wrist, and he hesitantly does so. His partner looks up, doing incredibly well on not cracking a smile to foil his true intentions. “Yes? No? Which one is it?”

Jayce finds Viktor’s calmness to a newfound discovery nerve-racking, wishing he could read his mind right then and there. This is the first time Viktor has ever tried to tickle Jayce, but the poor man truly believes it was done on accident. He’s been so use to Viktor taking his ticklish onslaughts like a champ and never immediately attacking back, or even days later. Jayce had his own assumption that Viktor would never live up fully to his playfulness and do so much as tickle him back. The guy doesn’t even complete Jayce’s friendly hugs most of the time by wrapping his own arms around him, just kind of standing there until he pulls away.

So that’s why Jayce is sitting here, staring into Viktor’s questioning eyes, not knowing exactly on how to respond. He decides to lie, feeling like there’s no use in telling the truth if Viktor won’t indulge a little more.

“Um, just a little. Felt weird mostly.” He so badly does a terrible job of convincing. He releases a quiet held back sigh, not knowing if it was out of relief or disappointment when Viktor continued on cleaning after not questioning him a bit more. Viktor created a pattern, dragging the cloth and his fingers across Jayce’s skin that wasn’t ticklish at all. Then in the middle of doing so, he would press more firmly and curl his fingers again just enough for his nails to graze.

Jayce is terrible at holding in his giggles, making weird ‘kcchh!’ noises and sometimes letting a couple out for a few seconds but in a whisper tone as if Viktor isn’t right in front of him to hear them all. “You’re giggling a lot for someone who claims to just be a little ticklish.” Viktor nonchalantly states, placing a hand on top of Jayce’s shoulder to keep him steady. Jayce was about to do another failed attempt of denying until that pattern Viktor was doing met down around his stomach.

Jayce snorts, instantly slapping a hand to cover his mouth in shock as Viktor pauses his movements. His mouth twitches upward for a split second, almost smiling from Jayce’s flushed cheeks. “Oh, so it does tickle.”

“Viktor, wait—“

“You lied to me?”

“Nononono, it’s just that—“

“No need to explain yourself, Jayce. I’ll be careful.” You’d have to be dumb to not practically hear the smile in Viktor’s tone. Both of them, and if anyone else were to be in that room, would very much know that Victor won’t be ‘careful’. Viktor kept up that god forsaken pattern again, but this time letting it tickle Jayce more frequently than it cleaning.

He observed Jayce’s reactions, testing out different areas around his stomach and what brought out a louder reaction than the other. Fingers curling to the middle of his stomach earned him a full boisterous laugh. Nearing his belly button made him receive laughs that shot an octave higher with an occasional whistle coming from the gap of his two front teeth. Cleaning over his belly button made Jayce snort again, a noise Viktor was seeking out for.

Jayce’s rambunctious laugh got Viktor stuck in a trance. How it’s so loud it can be heard from all over Piltover. Jayce’s high pitch snorts coming out only when Viktor tickles somewhere particularly more sensitive. His eyes being closed shut, a random push to Viktor’s face as if it’ll tone down the ticklish sensations. Viktor now understands Jayce completely. He doesn’t want to stop the fun and hearing the flow of his laugh, everything so mesmerizing and ridiculously childish. Viktor could do this all day.

Two hands grab Viktor’s wrists while a leg kicked out when he dragged the cloth over his belly button again, shaking his head. “Hohold on plehehease!”

Viktor scoffed. “Stop being a baby. I’m not doing anything.” But it was clear as day everything was now being done with purpose. Hands still holding onto Viktor’s wrists, Jayce takes the granted time to catch his breath. “Hehehe…ohohokay, I am one hundred percent sure I’m clean now.”

Viktor tsked, watching him take in air like he ran a marathon. “I think you might be more ticklish than me, Jayce. Isn’t that something?” Jayce abruptly stares at him, peeved. “Ohoho, is that what you think? Let’s put it to the test then.”

Viktor is now the one grabbing at Jayce’s wrists, pushing with all his might out of reach. “No, Jayce! Stop!” Jayce manages to skitter across Viktor’s side, earning him a squeak that he’s terribly embarrassed of. Jayce relishes it.

“What are you, a mouse?” He teases, letting Viktor push his hands away so he can feel like he’s having the upper hand ever so often just to play fair. Viktor stops his attempts of fighting back, shooting a glare but meanwhile grinning. “At least I don’t snort like a pig.”

Viktor just sealed his own coffin shut. “Oh, is that how you want to play?” Jayce gets up from his spot, startling Viktor. He picks him up with ease, showing no effect of Viktor’s shoves and shouts to be put down at once. Jayce lays him down on the couch softly, a location Viktor is all too familiar with by how frequent Jayce pins him down and tickles him mercilessly whenever Viktor, in Jayce’s words, deserves it.

Jayce does not attack right away, taking the time out of pure entertainment to watch him struggle a bit as if by some miracle today is the day Viktor manages to escape Jayce’s evil clutches.

He’s already giggling. “Jahayce, I am telling you now. Do not.” He manages to sit up a bit, hoping to level with Jayce more and seem convincingly threatening when his cold glare meets his eyes.

Jayce’s hands started slowly moving downwards.

“I now know where you’re most ticklish. I promise you, I will not be gentle when my next chance comes if you dare to do this.”

A leap of excitement was felt in Jayce’s heart at those words, causing him to smile and shrug before drilling into Viktor’s hips.

“I can live with that.”

#try not to have Viktor always get tickled by Jayce in the end challenge #it’s okay there’s still lee!jayce in here and don’t you worry there will be more HEHEHEHE #this got me going now I need to write a 7k word count fic of just Jayce getting absolutely fucking wrecked and not being able to handle it #I luv writing Viktor being an evil ler who pretends he doesn’t know what he’s doing like sure vik sure #just two guys in love with one another idk what else to say man #tickle prompts #arcane tickle fic #tickle fic #arcane tickle #jayvik tickle #jayvik tickle fic #jayvik arcane

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hivemuthur · 2 months ago

Note

Hii! Thank you for replying. I've read five things and loved it so much I wanted to send another ask, and somehow managed to forget to send it, but never mind here it is now.

I was thinking a viktor×reader who were eachother's first everything (early academy days?) but than the reader had to move away for schooling/work, whatever, but now they're back (sometime after the beginning of hextech) and have to work with jayce and viktor. How would that dynamic look like? They didn't breakup over an argument or because they fell out of love but because that's the way life took them. I'm imagining them knowing eachother so well inside and out to the point people just assume they're dating. (Reader making viktors coffee even better than he can himself, viktor making something to fix a problem reader has but never had a solution for, anything really). And I don't know, maybe, possibly, somehow the tension gets to be too much for both of them and they're both more skilled now and whatnot... (I could live without that part tho, is you feel like it doesn't fit)

Sorry if the ask is too complicated, I've just been thinking about it for so long.

I know it's gonna be a while before you can write it but I can't wait to read all of the other requests in the meantime.❤️

~🍒

Dear sweet 🍒 Janna, hello again! Here's your fic!

Same As It Ever Was

viktorxfemale!reader explicit! a bit of everything - fluff, angst (light), smut

word count: 5,6K

author’s note: this is very freeform, an experiment, kinda? A story told in vignettes, little scenes between Viktor and Reader since the moment she came back to the Academy interwoven with their past, sex included. For this to work, I've written current events in Present Tense and the flashbacks in Past Tense.

artist on X (obsessed at this point)

—

You brace yourself with a deep breath—just as you did all those years ago. With lungs full of air, you cross the threshold, and memories come crashing back. Heimerdinger’s lectures, suspicious cafeteria food, noise complaints from your neighbours when Jayce laughed too loud in your dorm. Your dorm itself—its lumpy bed, not enough cabinet space for your books, scattered notes, and long night study sessions with Viktor.

As promised, he and Jayce are there, waiting to pick you up in the entrance hall. Jayce is as giddy as ever—stretching, chattering, busying himself with the announcement board, occasionally pointing at something to get Viktor’s attention. He looks almost the same.

Viktor, on the other hand—nearly still. He leans on a… crutch? It’s a crutch now, huh. You wince at not knowing sooner. An extra brace on his leg as well. His form is more hunched than you remember. He nods at Jayce’s remarks absently, craning his head toward the door, and his face—oh. It lights up when he sees you, just as it used to. Your heart travels all the way up to your throat.

You have to force yourself not to skip. Jayce reaches you first, nearly crashing into you with his embrace. He’s stronger than before, his shoulders broader. Either he’s gotten taller, or Viktor looks shorter. He pats your back and chuckles a mumbled hi—but your eyes are already on Viktor.

He opens his arms in an inviting gesture, and you slide right in. He still fits. He still smells the same, though there’s a lingering trace of oil on his collar. His hair is longer, and his clothes hang looser on his frame, but he feels the same. His neck is just as pretty, his hands just as strong. They go where they used to—one to your back, the other cradling the nape of your neck. You take one last inhale before he pulls back, a familiar spark playing in his eyes as he says, "Welcome back."

***

You stared at the schedule board, squinting as you tried to make sense of the messy list. You muttered under your breath, crossing out dates in frustration when the door behind you creaked open.

A voice spoke from behind, calm and precise. “Do you need assistance?”

You turned to see him—tall, neat, with a cane at his side. Pretty hair falling boyishly over his forehead, eyes the colour of liquid gold, two freckles decorating his upper lip and a spot under his eye. His voice was thickly accented, and you suddenly felt dumber than ever.

“What gave me away?” you huffed, managing a smile. “Groaning or furious scribbling?”

“Eh, a little bit of both,” he said, leaning in slightly to point at a part of the board. “Let me help?”

You handed him your notebook, and he made quick work of explaining the confusing schedule. “Looks like we’ll be seeing each other,” he hummed, studying your timetable.

Thank the gods, you thought. Feigning surprise instead of relief, you raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He nodded, the faintest smile pulling at his lips. “I’m looking forward to having class with you. I’m Viktor.”

In response, you muttered your name in one breath.

Without another word, he pressed the notebook into your hand, making sure your hands brushed, then turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, momentarily dumbfounded.

***

You follow Jayce and Viktor through the lab, eyes wide as they show you around. The space is far more impressive than you remember—equipment gleams, wires stretch across the ceiling like intricate veins, and the hum of machinery fills the air. Jayce is practically bouncing with excitement, narrating every little detail with an energy that nearly has you dizzy, while Viktor stays quieter, his gaze focused, occasionally glancing at you as though checking for your reactions.

You’re still trying to wrap your mind around everything when the tour finally ends, and Viktor turns to you with a small smile. “Is there anything you need?” he asks, his voice as smooth and calm as ever.

You consider it for a moment, then sigh dramatically. “I would kill for a coffee.”

Jayce snorts a laugh, “Things don’t really change, do they? Do you want to make it yourself as usual?”

“Of course, as you mentioned—things don’t change, which means I still don’t trust any of you with your coffee-making skills, Jayce,” you reply with a smirk, stepping past him toward the kitchenette area. Viktor watches you closely, but you don’t pay him any mind as you start pulling out the necessary ingredients. “Do you want one?” you throw over your shoulder. And Viktor nods with a smile.

You fall into an easy rhythm, just like old times. Your hands work quickly, grinding the beans, adjusting the water temperature, adding the perfect amount of milk—exactly how you know he likes it. It’s almost like your body remembers, and you can’t help but feel a strange sort of nostalgia as the familiar process comes naturally.

The sound of Viktor clearing his throat breaks your focus, and when you turn, he’s standing a little closer than you expected. His eyes are fixed on the coffee mug in your hands, and the way he’s staring at it almost makes you laugh.

You hand him the cup with a raised brow. “Did I get it right?”

He takes a slow sip, his expression unreadable at first. Then, after a long pause, he sets the cup down carefully on the counter, still looking at you, and says quietly, “Perfect.”

The fact that you remember how to make it, that you remember him—how he likes it, what he’s used to—has him speechless. You watch him for a moment, unsure of what he’s thinking, and the quiet fills the space between you both.

“Just like before,” he says, as though to himself, and you can't help but smile.

***

“Okay, coffee or death,” you whined, pressing your forehead to the desk with exaggerated dramatics. It had been your fourth hour of studying, and the letters on the page began to blur.

“I guess it’s coffee then,” Viktor stretched his legs in the chair before scrambling up to the kettle. “I have no idea how I would explain a corpse in my room.”

“I do not care what motivates your actions, I’m just in dire need of something keeping me alive, or I will fail this class,” you mumbled, still buried in the notes resting under your face. A cup set firmly by your left cheek made your eyebrow quirk, and you let out a sigh of contentment.

“Ah, sweet salvation,” you hummed, grabbing it and taking a sip. And then—

“Viktor. What is this?”

Viktor’s voice was light as he shrugged. “It’s a coffee strong enough to keep you awake until morning.”

You winced, shaking your head slightly. “It’s so strong, it could actually solve the dead body problem you’ve mentioned before.”

He chuckled at that, his gaze still on you. “I suppose that’s one way to describe it.”

You huffed in frustration. “Do I have to do everything myself?”

Viktor only grinned, a spark of amusement in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself out of your chair and crossing the room to the counter. “Alright, move aside.” You grabbed the ingredients with a practiced hand, preparing a new brew. “This is coffee, not the motor fluid you made.”

Viktor leaned back in his chair, watching you as you worked. “That’s very thoughtful. I suppose you can always become a barista if you fail the class.”

You turned, one eyebrow raised in challenge. “Just wait, Viktor. You’ll see. If I fail, I’ll open my own shop. I’ll call it ‘Professor Coffee’—I’ll make sure the brew is strong enough to wake the dead.”

Viktor’s laugh was soft but genuine. “It seems you’ve got it all figured out.”

***

You reach out, barely muttering, “Could you pass me…” before the tool is already in your hand. You glance at Viktor, who hasn’t even looked up from his work.

“How did you know?” you ask, eyebrows furrowing in surprise.

He taps his temple, a small smile playing beneath his goggles. “I have a good memory.”

***

You frowned at your workbench, trying to put a name to the tool you needed, but your mind blanked.

“Can you pass me the…” you began, unsure, your voice trailing off. You made a small gesture with your hand, hoping Viktor would somehow understand what you meant. Without hesitation, he handed you a wrench.

“No, not this,” you said, waving it off. “The other one?” You gestured again.

Viktor stared at you, brows furrowed, before passing you a screwdriver.

“Not that one either!” you huffed, frustration creeping in—not with him, but because your mind had suddenly decided to fail.

The ritual continued, with Viktor visibly amused as your hand hovered over the various tools he’d passed you. Wrenches, pliers, a hammer, and a couple of screwdrivers littered the workbench. You glanced down at your notes, trying to remember.

Viktor hummed, looking from your desk to your notes. His eyes narrowed, and his lips curled into a knowing smile. “Ah. This one?”

Before you could respond, he was standing behind you, lowering the tool into your hand. His arms brushed the sides of your face, and you felt the press of his stomach against your back. For a moment, you froze, breath catching in your throat.

“A calliper,” you whispered.

“Well done, lásko,” Viktor muttered into your ear.

***

The clock announces an hour way past when you’ve expected to be home already. “Should we call it a night?” you ask Viktor, who sits opposite you, a soft smile curling on his lips.

“Some things have changed, then,” he says, tapping his crutch lightly against the floor. “You used to work until figurative death back in the day.”

“Well, I guess I’m getting older,” you reply with a grin, your tone light but laced with a touch of weariness. “What about you? Any big changes?”

He knocks on his brace playfully, lifting the crutch with a small gesture. “Besides the visible?” He chuckles softly. “Not much. Still working to the death.”

Your smile falters for a second, your gaze softening as you roll closer to him on your chair. You rest your hands gently on his knees, studying his face for any signs of deeper discomfort.

“Are you well, though?” you ask, your voice quiet, careful.

Viktor looks at your hands for a moment, then props the crutch on the desk beside him. He squeezes your palms, his grip firm but tender.

“I am now,” he replies, his voice low, almost like a confession. “Haven’t been for a while, but now I’m well. As well as I can be.” He pauses for a beat, then adds with a small smile, “And now that you’re back, I’m even better.”

You brush your fingers gently through his hair, feeling the familiar warmth of his presence, the intimacy of the gesture. Viktor hums softly, his eyes fluttering closed in response. So familiar, you think, a wave of nostalgia washing over you.

You swallow before speaking again, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I’ve missed you.”

Viktor’s eyes remain closed, his expression softening, and when he speaks, his voice is heavier. He sighs, “I know.” Then pauses, squeezing your hand once more. “I’ve missed you too.”

***

You and Viktor lay in bed together, tangled in the warmth of each other’s embrace. His arm was draped around you, and the soft rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek was a steady comfort. The room was quiet, unbearably so, when you nuzzled into his neck, inhaling deeply. His scent—rich, familiar, like the warmth of him—filled your senses, and you clutched him tighter, as though trying to memorize the feeling of him.

"I'm going to miss you so much," you whispered, your voice muffled against his skin, your breath shaky with the weight of the thought.

Viktor hummed softly in response, his fingers tracing small circles on your back. "I know. I will miss you terribly too." His words were gentle, but there was a deep sadness in his voice that you could feel even without looking at him.

He nudged your face with his nose, his palm warm as it cupped your cheek. His touch felt like a promise, though you weren't sure what to expect. "If it's meant to be, we will meet again," he said, his voice low, the words wrapped in the quiet certainty.

A pang in your chest tugged at you, and without thinking, you leaned up, pressing your lips to his. The kiss was soft, but your heart ached with the knowledge that this might be the last time you felt him close. It tasted of bitter acceptance, as you poured every bit of feeling you had into it, hoping it would somehow last, somehow hold you both together despite the distance that would come.

When you pulled away, your heart felt heavy, like it was breaking in your chest.

***

You both sit on the couch in your apartment, papers and notes scattered around you, a quiet hum of frustration bounces between you. Viktor’s hair is dishevelled, falling into his eyes, and his shirt has found its way half-out of his pants, a few buttons undone. He stares at the pages in front of him, his expression a mixture of exhaustion and determination. You glance over at him, hoping for a breakthrough.

“Any ideas?” you ask, your voice tinged with a hint of desperation.

Viktor groans and rubs his eyes, his shoulders sagging. “You know what… I think I’m getting old too,” he mutters, dropping his hand to your lap. “Can we get back to it when I’ve had at least two hours of sleep?”

He looks at you, his hand settling on your knee absentmindedly, his fingers warm through the fabric of your clothes. You stare at his hand for a moment, before looking up at him. He seems so tired, but also so… beautiful. His rumpled clothes and tousled hair remind you of the boy you loved.

“Sure,” you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You look at him, really look at him. He’s always been handsome, but tonight you can finally see how much time has passed. Wrinkles carve his face deeper, jaw stronger, singular grey strands shining through the chestnut hair. Eyes the same. He doesn’t look like a boy anymore.

Wordlessly, you move closer to him and his gaze doesn’t falter. You cup his cheeks and brush your thumb over his lip. And then, your mouth comes close to his, into a soft brush, trembling and tentative. And Viktor responds with a hand sliding up your thigh and a tilt of his head. He cranes his neck and closes the little distance left between you with a sigh of relief.

His free hand slides up to your neck, pulling you in as his mouth parts and tongue joins to wrestle with yours. He gasps when you bite his lower lip and hums, as his palm slides behind to cup your ass. Fully in his grasp, you press yourself more onto him, fingers tangling into his hair, coaxing small sounds out of his throat. It’s wet and slow and when you peek through your eyelashes his brows are scrunched and a blush blooms down his neck to his chest.

He doesn’t kiss like a boy anymore, you think to yourself. It comes unbidden and warms your insides.

The taste of him lingers on your lips as you pull away just a fraction, your breaths mingling. You barely have a moment to think before Viktor kisses you back, deeply, hoarse inhale taken straight from your lungs leaves you dizzy.

***

Viktor had walked you back to your dorm after a late-night study session at the library. His pace was slow, almost reluctant, as if he was trying to figure out what to say before you parted ways. You were too tired to wait for him to find the words, your mind still foggy from hours of studying.

“I guess this is goodn—” you started, but before you could finish the word, his lips were on yours. The kiss came out of nowhere, abrupt and clumsy, pressing you back into the door behind you. For a moment, you froze, your tired mind scrambling to catch up with what was happening.

Then, the realization sank in, and the sound that left your lips transformed from startled surprise to a soft moan. You responded without thinking, hands sliding up Viktor's sides, feeling the warmth of his body as you kissed him back.

He dropped his cane, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer. His touch was urgent, hands cradling your back and drawing you in as you ran your fingers through his hair. Feeling your response, he grew bolder, shut his eyes and concentrated on drawing deep breaths through his nose to not have to part from you.

Hands everywhere, as if he couldn’t decide what to do. You nearly laughed when she squeezed your butt quickly, only to go back to your waist, slide into your ribs and then to the small of your back. So feverish.

When the oxygen run out, he broke the kiss but still kept you close. “I wanted to do this for the longest time,” he chuckled into your mouth.

***

He gives himself a good-willed push off the couch’s armrest but ends up trapping your hip beneath his. His face scrunches in worry when you hiss, but the sound quickly transforms into a laugh. When your stomach shakes beneath him, Viktor feels a strange swelling in his chest. This is so familiar.

He looks at you longingly, sliding his fingers into your hair. Your laughter dies into a moan when his groin presses between your legs. His tongue grows more eager now, as if he remembers just how much he used to want you. “Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he breathes against your lips, and you respond by fisting his shirt, nearly tearing it. You try to say you’ve missed him too—fuck, how much you’ve missed him every day—but you can’t, because your mouth is full.

You brace yourself on your elbows, meeting him halfway. You’re not sure you can bear to part long enough for him to take your clothes off, so instead, you take his hands and press them to your ass. He accepts, of course, kneading your flesh in rhythm with his breath.

When you finally straddle him, your fingers move to undo the rest of his shirt. That’s when he stills. His palms come up to wrap around yours, and a quiet plea escapes him. “Wait,” he says weakly, his cock already hard—you’re sure this costs him a lot.

“Whatever for?” you ask, nosing at his face before pressing kisses to his cheeks, his closed eyelids. You untangle your fingers from his and wrap your arms around his neck.

“I should show you something first,” he murmurs, and begins to undo his shirt. You lean back to give him space to sit up, but your hips never leave his, and your eyes never look away from his face. You give him the room he needs, and feel unbearably not close enough.

***

You fought with the doorknob to your bedroom for a hot minute. Viktor, being very distracting, had completely derailed your brain from this simple dexterity task with continuous neck-licking and ear-kissing. He kept smirking against your skin, all cocky and pleased with himself, ever since the moment you’d asked, “Do you want to come in?”

You stumbled into the room together, and his fingers immediately shot to your vest. You hadn’t even blinked properly before it was undone, his hands cupping your breasts through your shirt, his cane hooked over his forearm.

Laughing and snorting at his clumsiness, you’d steadied him by the waist and let him walk you backward toward the bed.

Your hands fumbled at the buttons of his shirt, but they were small and stubborn, and you were too impatient. With a frustrated huff, you abandoned the effort and slid your hands over his shoulders instead. “Arms up,” you ordered, and Viktor chuckled as he complied.

He lifted his arms obediently, but as you dragged his shirt over his head, it caught for a moment, tangling around his face. He let out a muffled laugh, flailing slightly as you tugged it free, and the moment he was loose, he lost his balance. He tumbled backward onto the bed with an oof, propping himself up on his elbows as he grinned up at you.

You stepped between his legs, watching as his expression softened, turning almost reverent. His hands found your waist, fingers brushing deliberately over the fabric of your skirt before he slid it down, letting it pool at your feet. His lips followed the motion, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to your stomach before he rested his chin there, gazing up at you.

He cradled your hips, thumbs stroking lazily over your skin. “Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked, his voice quiet, careful.

You nodded, eager, and leaned down to kiss him, pouring every answer he could ever need into the press of your lips.

***

“There is both more and less to me than there used to be,” Viktor says, rubbing slow, thoughtful circles up and down your thighs. His expression is pensive, and an apology lingers somewhere in his voice. You hate that he feels the need to apologise in the first place.

Your touch slides across his chest, down—down the leather ridges of a brace you’ve never seen before. It screams Jayce Talis with every bolt, every stitch, and your heart aches at the thought that you weren’t here when this was happening.

Your eyes dart between his chest and his lips before you finally nestle deeper against his pelvis, wrap your arms back around his neck, and crush your mouth to his in a kiss that weeps remorse. “You beautiful, beautiful man,” you whisper, pressing your face into his. “How are you so brave?”

You cup his cheeks, and he only smiles, covering your palm with his.

“I’m not brave. I just… survived,” Viktor says with a small shrug. Then, after a pause: “Would you like to help me take them off?”

You nod, eager, and lean down to kiss him, pouring all the fragmented pieces of yes into the press of your lips.

***

Viktor rolled with you across the sheets, his hands skimmed up your sides, warm and eager, fingers pressing into your skin like he was trying to memorise the feel of you. Your mouths met again, lips parting, tongues teasing—lazy and deep, now that you had each other finally.

He pulled you closer, your thighs bracketing his hips, and when you reached down, fingers curling into the waistband of his trousers, he let out a shaky breath. You grinned against his mouth, tugging them lower inch by inch, letting your nails drag over his skin just to hear the quiet little sounds he made in response. Finally, with one last playful yank, you pulled them off entirely, giggling when they got caught at his ankles for a moment before slipping free.

And then you saw it—his brace.

Viktor stiffened immediately. His hands twitched at his sides, and he turned his head slightly, as if he wanted to look anywhere but at you. "It’s nothing," he muttered, voice quieter than before. "You don’t have to—"

You reached out, your palm settling gently on his leg. "Viktor," you said softly, your touch firm but tender. His gaze flicked back to yours, guarded, unsure. "You are so beautiful."

He gasped, a sound so quiet you might not have caught it if you weren’t so close. His lips parted slightly, eyes searching yours like he wasn’t sure if he’d heard you right.

You didn’t give him time to argue. Instead, you leaned down, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to his thigh, just above the brace. He shivered beneath you. Carefully, you undid the clasps, your fingers working with quiet reverence, peeling away the brace as if unveiling something sacred.

It left behind faint indentations in his skin—lines and ridges pressed deep from the whole day of wear. You kissed each one, your lips trailing over the marks with the same care you’d give any other part of him. Viktor’s breath hitched, his fingers threading into the sheets, gripping tight.

For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, barely above a whisper, he breathed, "You undo me."

***

You set the last metal part of Viktor aside, and now, finally—after years of longing—you see him. His legs are parted, eternal bruises marking his thigh and knee, the toes of one foot cramped closer together than the other. His ribs bear pearly little scars where the chest brace has caught against his skin.

His cock rests idly in the crease of his thigh, beautiful as ever—pink at the tip, his navel scattered with curly hair that meets in a neat line just below his belly button. His hips are sharp angles, his belly rising and falling with each breath. You take in this adult man’s body and compare it to the boy you fell in love with. And you are sure now—there is only more to him than there used to be.

You step between his legs, and his arms reach out, fingers tracing a scar on your lower abdomen. He hums, “This is new.”

“You should see the other guy,” you murmur playfully. “A machine malfunctioned at the lab. One of the energy conductors went unstable, and before I could shut it down, a piece of metal sliced me open.” You pause, watching his face tense. “I got lucky.”

Viktor brushes his thumb over the scar tissue before lowering his lips, pressing a kiss to it—slow, reverent. “My brave girl,” he mutters against your skin. Your head lulls back on your shoulders, fingers threading into his hair and you let out a sigh.

You shudder when he presses a delicate touch between your legs. His hand, more calloused than you remember, gathers the curve of your inner thigh—but oh, his fingers still feel the same. The same timid swipe across your core, the same quiet hum of approval at the wetness you've gathered for him. Then, his free arm comes to wrap around your hips, pulling you closer as he presses his ear to your belly and slides two fingers inside you.

More skill, you notice. A pang of jealousy coils in your chest—ugly, unnecessary—but you don’t let him see. He kisses your stomach, and his eyelashes tickle your skin as he moves his hand up and down and his fingers hit the spot that has you moaning out his name. “As tight as I remember,” he hums, and it lances through you how infinitely hotter he has become.

You tug at his hair to make him look at you. Two gold gems drill right through you when you say, “Viktor.” A sigh, then, “I think I really need to fuck you now.”

He smiles sweetly and kisses your stomach again. “Then it seems we are on the same page.”

***

After a lot of fumbling, adjusting, and whispered curses, you finally found what worked. Viktor propped his knee up with a pillow, his other leg hooked under yours, grounding you together. His weight pressed you into the mattress—not crushing, just enough to make you feel him everywhere, warm and steady.

He rolled his hips into you, slow and measured, his arm caging you in as he kissed you through it. The heat of his breath spilled over your mouth, his lips parting just enough to let out the quietest of moans. And even in the haze of pleasure, you could see it—the determination tightening his brow, the concentrated press of his mouth against yours. He was on a mission, and that mission was you.

One arm wound snugly around your neck, cradling you into him, while his other hand worked between your legs, fingers slick and diligent. He timed each stroke with the snap of his hips, coaxing you closer, closer—

“Oh—Viktor—”

The sound of your voice shattered something in him. His rhythm stuttered, his forehead dropped to yours, but his fingers didn’t stop, circling, pressing, working you toward your peak. You dug your nails into his back, rocking up to meet him, and then—

It rushed over you like a cresting wave. Your thighs tensed around his waist, your breath caught, and the pleasure crested so high it stole all thought. He moaned softly, watching, feeling every pulse of your release around him.

His movements became less controlled, needier, a touch more frantic. He groaned against your shoulder, muttered something in a language you barely caught, and then followed you over the edge. His body trembled against yours, hips stuttering, breath shaky as he spilled into you, his lips still parted against your skin.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The only sounds in the room were your slowing breaths, the faint creak of the mattress, and the heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Then, Viktor finally lifted his head, flushed, sweat-dampened curls clinging to his forehead. He swallowed hard, his expression abashed but glowing with something warm and dazed.

“I hope that at this point, it is merely a formality,” he said, still breathless. “But… may I be so bold as to call you my girlfriend from now on?”

***

Your hips slot back together as if no time has passed. He fills you the same way, stretches you perfectly, and the expression he makes as he sinks in—God, it’s the same. Crushingly fucking gorgeous. Relief and bliss war on his face, his lips parting around a shaky groan as his hands seize your ass, pulling you down fully with a sharp slap of skin against skin.

He nuzzles into your neck, breath heavy and warm, licks up the column of your throat before sinking his teeth into your tendon. You gasp, moan, and pull at his hair, and the low, satisfied hum he gives in response shoots straight through you. His grip on your hips tightens, thumbs pressing into your skin as he guides you into motion, dragging you up before urging you back down. A faint roll of his own hips meets yours with every descent, his restraint slipping as the pleasure builds.

It doesn’t take long for you to notice—he’s changed. There’s more confidence in the way he moves, the way he takes from you, the way he talks to you. His voice is deeper, richer, words curling into your skin like smoke.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, dark and approving. He drags a hand up your spine, settles it at your nape, tilting your head so you do look—so you watch the way he devours you with his eyes. “You take me so well, lásko.”

Heat spreads down to your toes. You try to bite back a whimper, but he sees it, hears it, and smirks. Smirks, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

Oh, he’s so much bolder now. And you’re falling apart because of it.

It starts with the way he tilts his hips just right, the way his grip on you tightens like he knows exactly where you need him. His free hand glides down your spine, tracing sweat-slick skin before slipping between your bodies. Two fingers find your clit, and your breath stutters. He circles once, twice—slow and deliberate—before pressing down, firm and unrelenting.

“Come for me,” he murmurs, voice like silk, like sin. He rewards you with a deep thrust, dragging a broken moan from your throat. “Let me feel you.”

You do—oh, God, you do. Pleasure overtakes you, crashing through your body in waves, pulling you under. Your thighs shake around him, your hands fly to his shoulders, nails sinking into muscle as you arch and shudder and keen his name. He groans, eyes dark and reverent as he watches you unravel in his lap.

Yet still, there are things that haven’t changed. The way his breath hitches when you clench around him. The way his moans turn desperate when you lean forward and suck at his throat. The way he starts to chase the pleasure once he gets close, gripping you tighter, rutting up into you with a fervour that makes your head spin.

And the way he comes—the same shudder, the same deep, gasping moan, the same way his arms crush you against his chest as if he could pull you inside him. His release spills deep, his body trembling beneath yours, and you realise it then, as you always have.

He is grateful for this. For you.

Your noses brush as he catches his breath, and his hands smooth over your back, grounding himself in the feel of you.

“Still with me?” you murmur, running your fingers through his damp curls.

Viktor exhales a breathless laugh, lids heavy, lips parted in something like awe. He nods, shifting just enough to press a lingering kiss to your collarbone. “Always.”

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captain039 · 4 months ago

Text

PART 13 Blood, Fur and Magic

Vampire Viktor x reader x Werewolf Jayce

Warnings: Vampire things, werewolf things, light swearing, possessiveness, smut, sexual, intimacy, poly relationship, angst, violence swearing

Smut earnings: DVP, inappropriate use of magic, oral f and m receiving

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Jayce is trembling now; his eyes hooded his mouth open. Your hand moves in time with Viktor’s mouth earning low moans from Jayce. Jayce suddenly grabs your hand a low growl on his lips and Viktor stops too.

“I want to be inside you” Jayce says his eyes locking onto yours with a deep gold intensity. You feel your body flush and watch your magic slowly come back to you from both bodies. Viktor’s eyes flicker a deep red again as he nods sitting back on Jayce’s legs. Jayce sits up giving you a small look and you hear his thoughts and flush. You move out from behind him and straddle his hips. Viktor moves up behind you his hands running over your sides as he kisses your neck. Viktor gently guides your hips up while Jayce positions himself at your entrance before Viktor lowers you slowly. You take in a ragged breath feeling the stretch of Jayce inside you. Jayce groans his hands holding your thighs tightly, almost bruising. Viktor’s hands move from your hips sliding up and gently squeezing your breasts while his mouth leaves small marks along your neck and shoulders. You slowly begin to move your hips up and down the feeling of being stretched, the feel of Viktor’s cool fingers gently pinching your nipples. Your breathing comes out a little harshly as you begin to set a rhythm one hand on Viktor’s hip and the other on Jayce’s stomach. You feel Viktor’s fangs gently scrape over your neck making you shiver and tilt your head to the side a bit. He doesn’t bite though and continues a teasing gesture before you feel one of his hands on your lower back.

“Lean forward,” he says softly, and you frown a bit but do till your chest is flush against Jayce’s. Jayce takes the moment to kiss you deeply his hips moving to rut up into you instead. Viktor’s hand run down you're back gently kneading your ass before you feel his fingers by Jayce’s cock.

You tense before Viktor hushes you softly his free hand smoothing up and down your back in a comforting motion.

“Easy Jayce” Viktor says, and Jayce stops moving his hips.

“Oh fuck” Jayce mutters his hands joining Viktor’s on your back.

“We want you to take both of us,” Viktor says voice deep accent thick. You feel yourself go bright red and slightly wondering if that’s possible.

“It is” Viktor answers out loud and you’re slightly curious how he knows it is. Viktor’s finger slips past with Jayce’s cock and you both moan. You rest your head on Jayce’s chest breathing deeply and slowly while Jayce gently runs his hands up and down your back. Viktor’s free hand kneads at your hip, squeezing every so often as he gently moves two fingers in and out beside Jayce’s cock. Your thoughts and desires mix with each other in the slow moment allowing you more clarity in their mind. You feel your magic gently pulse through your body as it connects with them. Jayce lets out a small hum pressing a kiss to your head as he continues to soothe you while Viktor stretches you impossibly wider. Your body trembles slightly every now and then before you feel Viktor remove his fingers and clasp at your hip. You feel his tip nudge beside Jayce and try to relax your body.

Gods.

You moan brokenly feeling so full of both Jayce and Viktor. Your body shakes while Jayce soothes you with words and touches. Your eyes are heavy-lidded, Viktor gently kneads your hips before they both move in time. In. Out. In. Out.

You whisper unable to move your own body from lying on Jayce’s chest. It’s a gentle slow rhythm that has them both letting out small groans, Viktor kisses down your back muttering praises as he picks up the pace. You’re limp in their hold, so full feeling each of them slide in and out of you.

“You’re doing so well” Viktor whispers quickening ever so slightly. All you can do is let out a broken whimper and moan as they continue. You have your eyes closed focusing on the all the feelings overflowing your body and mind.

“Sweetheart” Jayce murmurs huskily and you open your eyes weakly. You gasp again seeing your magic surrounding you all again, tendrils dancing on all three of your bodies, you see the light glow of blue in Jayce’s eyes like your magic has made it into his mind. You close your eyes focusing you’re in both their minds your magic connecting them to you, you let out a small, ragged gasp a smile on your lips. It breaks off in a moan as both men hit you with a particularly hard thrust of their hips. You can see their minds clouding with the need to chase their high, you watch Jayce’s face his head tilted back mouth open eyes closed as his hands gently grip your sides. You look back seeing Viktor his mouth open too in a light snarl fang showing, his eyes are heavy-lidded and a burning red-rimmed with your blue magic. His hands on your hips moving you in time with their thrusts.

It’s like a shock to restart your system when they both come, you feel it through you and suddenly know how they felt when you’d come, and they followed suit from your magic. It makes you cry out and clench around them both before you come as well and go limp against Jayce. You’re all breathing heavily, Viktor’s breath on your neck in harsh pants through gritted teeth, Jayce’s body shuddering and panting heavily under you. Viktor moves first slowly pulling out making you make a broken noise. He hushes you gently with a kiss on your back before Jayce leaves you as well. Viktor straightens out your legs, so they aren’t cramped and bent from straddling Jayce, but he doesn’t thankfully move you off Jayce’s body. You feel him disappear in a blur of smoke and come back with a warm damp cloth. Viktor cleans you all before he lays down beside you both, he slides his arm under Jayce’s head who instantly sighs at the contact, while his other hand rests on your back.

“Sleep” he gently orders, and you don’t argue eyes already closed and body relaxed.

You wake up without dreams or visions snapping you awake, wrapped in a safe embrace. You murmur in your sleepy state and feel arms tighten around you. You frown though realising it’s only one set of arms around you.

“Jayce is in the bathroom” Viktor says, and you relax. You open your eyes as the bathroom door opens and a very naked Jayce walks out sleepily. You flush a bit even with last night seeing him like this though. Jayce grumbles and climbs back into bed lying on top of you burying his face in your neck before sighing. You laugh softly your arms wrapping around him.

“How are you feeling?” He asks muffled against your neck.

“Ok” you say your hips and thighs are a little sore but apart from that nothing major surprisingly.

“That’s good” Jayce sighs contently. Jayce falls asleep again against you, soft snores muffled on your neck, you go back to sleep to you realise when you wake up again. Viktor and Jayce are no longer there though, and you hear muffled voices. You frown and stand, you get dressed before following the voices to the lounge room.

“Mel?” You say surprised.

“Afternoon” she smiles a bit and you flush realising it is indeed after noon.

“We’ve had a situation,” she says, and you frown.

“There’s something at the boarders, it’s magic, like the Arcane but wilder” she explains, and you frown your mind thinking back to the voice you heard. You sit down on one of the chairs in thought seeing Viktor and Jayce sitting down also in thought.

“I’ve heard it before,” you say, and Mel looks surprised.

“In my visions, dreams I have I didn’t just see the mages I heard, felt another presence” You explain.

“Viktor heard it too through the bond” you add.

“I heard you managed to get it” Mel smiles.

“Yeah” you smile a bit.

“I wish there was more time for you three to explore it, but whatever this thing is, it’s powerful, Piltover and Zaun will need you three” she says, and you nod.

“Anything,” Jayce says and Viktor nods.

“I’ll return once I have more information, in the meantime, be prepared, for anything” she says before she leaves.

“Gods” Jayce sighs running a hand over his face.

“I don’t know what it is I only felt it and heard it” You sigh.

“It’s alright” Jayce says.

“What did you feel?” Viktor asks.

“Like Mel said it’s wild untamed Arcane magic, dangerous” you run a hand through your hair.

“I don’t- “ you freeze something causing your head to feel like it’s pounding.

“I see you little mage” You gasp and fall onto the floor your body shaking runes glowing brightly. Viktor and Jayce rush over but their voices are distant echoes.

“I will consume your power this bond and I will be unstoppable” you whimper at the pounding in your head before it’s gone. You gasp and crumble both men quick to save you.

“What happened?” Jayce asks worried.

“I heard it, felt it” you hold your head.

“He was in my head; I felt like my head would explode” you whimper a bit as Jayce hushes you gently. You feel their worry through the bone their concern, you can’t assure them. Say it’ll be alright.

“What did it say?” Viktor presses gently.

“It sees me, it said it’ll consume my power and our bond” you sigh finding yourself beginning to shake.

“Hey, take a breath, follow my breathing” Jayce says, and you follow him as he takes deep breaths in and out.

“That’s it” he whispers.

“Whatever it is it won’t hurt you, ok? I’ll be damned if anyone touches you” Jayce rumbles out his beast shining through.

“You’re ours” Viktor says his hand cupping your cheek as you finally look at him.

“We’ll protect you” he says his eyes more purple than red.

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