#obsessive viktor

[captain039]

PART 8 The Meaning of Flowers

Viktor x reader

Bridgerton AU

Warnings: olden times, sexism, light swearing, plus size reader, older Viktor, age gap, fat shaming, sexual, smut, oral F and M receiving, innocent reader, corruption kink, reader in her 20s, long-haired Viktor, possessive Viktor, obsessive Viktor, angst

Previous part <-

Dearest reader, it seems our little wallflower of the season not only captured the duke's eyes but has now been seen with a certain Councilwoman, is this all a ruse to climb her way up the social ladder? Or is our little wallflower going to stay a wallflower?

You’ve been ruined, your name ruined, and your body now touched by a man you’re not even married to, what are you going to do? Confess? Live your life as a scandalous spinster and live off in the woods like a witch?! You can’t get his face out of your head, you can’t keep replacing his fingers with yours to chase that high, you crave his body, his slender skilful fingers, you crave his voice, you crave all of him. You feel like you’re going off the rail, if you keep acting like this you’re sure your mama or papa will send you away to knock some sense into you. Every hour of every day you crave him, it’s… maddening. You don’t even know his favourite colour, his favourite food, you don’t know what he likes to do for fun, does he go hunting? Go to the club? Races? Does he even ride? You’re so caught up in your thoughts you barely register anything, your lady maid dressing you, getting in the carriage, arriving at the ball, one minute you were being corseted the next you’re amongst people. You feel sick, physically, you can’t keep doing this, feeling like your whole world is a lie and he’s the only truth you can find. You can’t think properly! Everything is so muddled! Out of place, it’s all -

There’s a hand on your shoulder, slender, cold from the night air and you sigh closing your eyes, mouth parting slightly as the world fades out.

“Dance with me” it’s softly asked, only for your ears and you nod feeling his hand slide down your arm to take your hand before leading you to the dance floor. You don’t know yourself, not anymore, this world is a big game and you’re just an insignificant piece of nothing.

“Look at me” his voice is like a distant echo, and so is everyone else but he’s closer, so close… you look up at him, those golden honey-brown eyes you could lose yourself in if you’re not careful. His arm around you is a steady weight, his slender hand now warming up with your body and the dancing. You spin around with the other ladies before being pulled back into him and you sigh your eyes looking at his tie instead. He’s so close, his breath fanning your head and hair, his body heat mingling with yours, far too close for an innocent dance. Are you even innocent anymore? Mind corrupted by, him… you wanted it, you wanted it so bad for him to corrupt you, to change your way of thinking but he just left you, abandoned you while your brain was fuzzed and not thereafter he laid his hands on you. Anger rises in your chest and you frown suddenly, he left you, and ran off like he knew he committed such a scandalous act, but he still did it. Your movements become stiff and when the dance ends you don’t bow, you turn away and you walk out. You leave to get fresh air and not slap a gentleman in public.

He’s hurt you. He sees it, sees the corruption swirl in your eyes, sees the panic and tenseness of your body as you barely notice anyone around you. He shouldn’t touch you but he needs to, his hand resting on your warm shoulder, the way you sigh and close your eyes, he watches your mouth part slightly and he has the urge to grab your face and correct it because that face is only for him. He’s not subtle, not with you, he doesn’t care, let the city talk he’s had enough of being alone, he needs you, he needs to hear your voice, feel your body against his. He watches when you get angry, the frown on your face when you realise he’s hurt you, the way you stiffen ready to strike him. He won’t blame you, he wants you to hit him, snap at him, cause as scene as long as he gets to hear your voice and feel your wrath. You leave though, sensible always the sensible young lady, and he the duke looking to corrupt her. He follows you sees your chest heave, watches your breasts press against the fabric of your dress hungrily, even in your anger you are a goddess, flushed face tense set jaw narrowed eyes, he’ll gladly kneel in front of you and hand you a knife if it’ll make you happy. You face him, he can picture the fire flaring in your eyes. You snap at him, quiet hushed words but he doesn’t listen, he manages to get something like defiled, abandoned and marriage, that word makes him frown, why would you say that word? He focuses, his ears finally working but it’s too late your hand is meeting his face in a harsh sound and he lets out a low groan. He holds his cheek, you’ve got strength more than he realised. His eyes flicker to yours he’s not holding back his emotions. He watches you jolt, take in a breath and blink a few times. He knows you don’t understand quite fully but he’s hungry, he’s hungry for you, he desires nothing but you, his breeches are confining and this place is too open.

“Say something!” You whisper hiss, but he doesn’t, he just stares at you, licks his lips and lowers his hand from his now-red cheek. He stalks closer, his limp somehow making him more menacing. His fingers brush against your cheek and you frown and stutter before his lips are on yours. Your eyes are wide and you're pushing him back but he won’t relent, he kisses you passionately, his hands cupping your neck his thumb under your chin forcing your head back slightly. You let out a gasp when he does and his tongue slips past your lips and tangles with yours. You panic, you’re too out in the open, you bite his tongue and he hisses pulling back. He swallows his eyes narrowing and you taste his blood on your teeth. He pants his hands tightening around your neck as he leans his forehead against yours. You make a small sound like a whimper of emotion and he hushes you gently his arms wrapping around you, one hand cradling your head and the other around your shoulders. You struggle initially before you feel yourself cry, your arms wrap around him, and you feel the brace against his lean frame and grip his jacket. He holds you tightly his chin resting on your head he sighs and makes an annoyed noise making you hold onto him tighter. You pull apart when you hear voices and let out a gasp.

“Go” you whisper and he looks pained but goes off. You pretend to fan yourself as a few people leave the party giving you a friendly wave. You breathe in relief and sneak back into the party your mind reeling once again.

Next part ->

[ughtyrell]

Mutually Obsessive Jayce, Viktor and Mel AU

Viktor and Mel realize that they both care for Jayce, maybe more than is healthy and team up to keep Jayce happy. He's their golden boy and they want to keep him that way. Both know the darker realities of life while Jayce doesn't. They're fine with that because they'll be there to keep it so he doesn't have to.

He just needs to stay theirs and keep working for a better life for everyone. And keep his conscience clear as he does it, they'll take care of anything more unsavory. Manipulate and dirty their own hands to keep his clean.

Jayce is happy his favorite people in the whole world get along and care for him. He hopes they know he'd let everything burn to keep them as warm as they make him feel.

I love this idea, so much. Mel and Viktor coming together for this goal but then learning to look out for each other because they know if Jayce loses one of them he'll be so upset and that sentiment rubbing off on both of them over time. Soon the idea of the other staying unhurt is important to each other, though Jayce being the priority is still the goal.

Jayce is just so sickly inlove with both of them even if the other two might not realize the true extent of that love and how far Jayce would go for both of them at the end of the day.

[isolabellz]

post coital science

[dawndauce]

never separate them :-(

[technically-human]

Jayce Talis but give him the Giopara (lack of) charm

[enthyrea]

a jayvik dbh au that has been on my mind for a while, really interested with the idea of viktor being the one to pull the "reanimate ur partner from the dead" shtick

aka, oopsie the android you created because you couldn't get over the death of your partner actually possesses a will to live and shatters your view of the line between humanity and machinery!!

[jollymalt]

accident

[proxythe]

i know a father-daughter event hates to see jayce talis coming …

[nyxi-pixie]

thinking abt that 'what kind of animals' moment from caitlyn, as a mirror of jayce's 'you didn't say they were from the undercity', and then the different way viktor and vi respond.

jayce's words were direct and viktor responds in kind - directly. 'im from the undercity'. it draws jayces attention to him to counteract the way jayce is able to dehumanise them. you cant dehumanise a group of people when one of them is someone you deeply care about and theyre sitting right in front of you forcing you to acknowledge where they came from and that theres more than whatever youve been raised to believe the people down there are like.

but vi is a lot more avoidant. she doesnt Want tension with cait so she talks around it. offers a logical argument instead of an emotional one. 'they wanted a spectacle'. it avoids reminding cait of their differences and where she came from while still trying to explain their actions as the rational moves of an enemy, yes, but a human one. but its the kind of compensating thats only going to lead to her giving up more and more ground to avoid fighting on it. and even so, it doesnt work. even when trying to avoid reminding cait where shes from and who she is, cait leaves on the note of grouping everyone, including vi, into one. this is an us and them situation, and cait exiles her from the 'us' and condemns her to 'them'.

[karta-ri]

for your consideration: s1 jayce, old mage viktor

[hexcoreviktor]

this still makes me laugh, like??? jayce? jayce. please.

jayce: oh my god i need to figure out what's happening to viktor, i need him to be okay

also jayce: let me add his gorgeous hair and stunning cheekbones, very important and necessary

[captain039]

PART 6 The Meaning of Flowers

Viktor x reader

Bridgerton AU

Warnings: olden times, sexism, light swearing, plus size reader, older Viktor, age gap, fat shaming, sexual, smut, oral F and M receiving, innocent reader, light corruption kink, reader in her 20s, long-haired Viktor, possessive Viktor, obsessive Viktor, angst

Previous part <-

Dearest reader, with our matches getting cozier by the second it seems we may have proposals within the week, in fact, I’ve noticed a few gentlemen seeking the favour of a young lady's hand already. However, with all of this going like clockwork, the only thing that doesn’t tick with time is our dear Duke and man of progress. Is the young lady he danced with going to steal and capture his heart? Or is it all going to come crashing down in burning smoke?

You’ve never attended a ball held at your papa's estate, usually, it’s only in the winter you come here to wait out the cold season in such a large home, though now you’re starting to see why no balls are held here. Your mama's colour palette is a tad odd. Perhaps she’s trying to copy the Talis’s gold but with orange? Her theme is orange and yellow and everything seems to be in your face quite literally. The flowers, the drapes, the decor, intact the kitchen silver wear isn’t silver but yellow and orange, there’s Orange and yellow cakes, orange and yellow drinks, you may go dizzy. You stand by your papa at the entrance of the ballroom as the servants set everything up.

“Oh boy,” your papa whispers as you blink in slight horror.

“Isn’t it wonderful!” Your mama comes up beside your papa and he forces a smile.

“Yes indeed” he lies and you excuse yourself. Your lady maid Mercy beside you gives you a small look.

“Yes, I’m aware” you huff.

“It’s all quite-“ she trails off.

“Disgusting? Hideous, like she threw lemons and oranges everywhere?” You say.

“I wasn’t going to be that harsh but yes” she grimaces as you walk into your room and fall on your bed.

“Please, I beg you tell me my dress is not orange or yellow” you say and she winces again as she pulls out a yellow dress with orange flowers.

“Oh gods,” you say sitting up and staring at it.

“I tried talking to her lady maid about uh, subtly adjusting it however it did not work” Mercy explains.

“We’re going to the modiste, right now,” you say and she nods quite literally chucking the dress back into the box it came in. You’ve never been one for dresses but you will not embarrass yourself further to look like a lemon. You head to the modiste and the madame there smiles.

“Welcome,” she says.

“No mama today?” She says.

“No, I need your help, please,” you say and she turns serious.

“The yellow dress?” She asks and you nod.

“Oh goodness, indeed come with me” she beckons you with her into the back fitting room.

“I knew this would happen I had an extra made, now it is still yellow but it is almost pale and I made sure to make the flowers white” She pulls out a beautiful pale dress that’s almost white, it’s not bright but subtle and the white flowers littering the top add to its charm.

“Thank you, Madame, you’re a lifesaver,” you say.

“Nonsense, you danced with the duke in my dress I am more than happy to provide” she smiles and you flush a bit.

“He’s quite handsome, no?” She grins and you nod not trusting your voice.

“I’ll stop teasing, but I’ll have this packed and dropped off” She smiles and pats your arm. You return home thankful to avoid wearing that hideous dress now hidden in the dark corners of your closet. Your nerves are building up for this evening wondering if the duke will indeed attend knowing he only tends to the higher members of the city’s balls and soirées.

You find yourself antsy, waiting for him to arrive and wonder what has gotten into you. You’ve never been so… so interested in a gentleman. As the ball carries on though you realise he’s not going to show up and your heart sinks a bit. You ignore your mama's glares at your lack of a bright yellow dress compared to hers, but you match everyone else in their pale yellows and subtleness. You manage to leave the ballroom and head to the gardens figuring since you’re at your estate it can be of no harm. You walk for a bit before sitting down on a cold granite bench and looking at the statue in the garden.

“You’ll catch a cold out here my lady” Your heart rate increases as you look over and see the duke approaching. You stand up quickly eyes a little wide.

“You came,” you say as he stands a meter from you.

“And miss the brightness of such a soirée?” He smiles.

“Gods please don’t remind” You sigh and sit back down gesturing for him to sit as well.

“I assume you did not have a say in such matters neither did your father?” He says resting his cane on his side.

“No I did not this is- it’s hideous, embarrassing you should’ve seen the dress she bought me” you sigh watching his eyes crinkly in the corners as he smiles.

“Your dress is beautiful” he says and you look down at the subtle pale yellow and white lace flowers.

“The Madame at the modiste was kind enough to have made me a backup,” you say trying to ignore the way your heart rate picks up.

“Smart woman,” he says. You sit in comfortable silence, though you fiddle with your fingers, picking a bit.

“Stop,” he says gently but firmly his slender hand taking yours.

“You’ll make yourself bleed” he says his fingers slotting between yours and resting them on his thigh. You hold your breath, don’t dare move or breathe, you’re holding hands with the duke in the garden alone….You’re alone in the garden holding hands with the duke…. You’re alone- you stand up and gasp.

“What is it?” He stands up as well limping slightly.

“I’m alone, with you in the garden, no chaperone” you begin to panic.

“Calm down” his voice is firmer than before and your eyes snap to his. He steps closer his free hand lifting, you’re shaking slightly your eyes watching his hand as he cups your cheek cold slender fingers touching your warm cheek. You let out a small gasp without meaning too eyes moving back to his honey coloured ones as he steps even closer his breath mingling with yours.

“Nobody is out here but us” he says voice low and breathless almost.

“How do you know?” You ask in a whisper.

“I made sure” Something in his tone makes you frown briefly before he leans in closer.

“Do you know how hard it is, to not touch you” he murmurs.

“To not have your warmth filling my bones, to not have you close” your mouth parts as you breathe shakily and his eyes look down to your lips.

“How hard it is to be gentlemen within your presence when all I want to do-“ his thumb traces your bottom lip gently.

“Corrupt you?” He whispers his eyes darkening as you feel your body tense, your heart rate increasing your lower stomach doing something you’ve never felt that makes you squeeze your thighs together. He lets out a small growl-like noise his forehead resting against yours.

“That feeling just now, you don’t know what it was do you?” He whispers and you shake your head slightly.

“That clench in your lower stomach, pressing your thighs together,” he says.

“It’s arousal” he murmurs and you frown.

“Fuck” he mumbles.

“I want you to do something tonight when you’re alone in bed” he leans back slightly so he can look into your eyes.

“I want you to think about that feeling and what gave you that feeling” he orders gently his accent getting thicker the lower his voice drops.

“I want you to slip your hand between your thighs, where it’s most warm” he adds and all you can do is look at him.

“I want you to touch yourself, explore what feels good what brings more of that feeling in your lower belly” his thumb gently strokes your cheek.

“I want you to chase it, keep doing it till it builds.. and builds” his gaze is heavy and you forget how to breathe as you feel your stomach clench and flip.

“And when it finally hits, I want you to let go, let those built-up feelings explode” You finally breathe in quickly before you hear your name and gasp and step back. You look at the duke one more time before his hand slips from your face as you walk off. Your cheeks are warm, your whole body is warm and your legs shake slightly as you walk back to your mamas calling. His words replay in your mind all night and every time you look at him at the ball you hold your breath and feel even warmer.

When it’s night and you’re all alone you close and lock your door your breathing a little heavy. You stare at your bed lie down and pull the covers over your body taking a shaky breath as you think back to his closeness, the words he said. You do as he says your hands going between your thighs, it is warm as he said and slightly wet, you slide a finger between your folds and gasp. You still for a moment at the jolt that goes through your body, his words echoing in your head. You do it again rubbing your finger over the nub. Your stomach clenches slightly at the feeling and you let out small gasps. ‘I want you to chase it, let it build and build’ You continue moving your fingers shivers and feelings going through your body intensifying the more you do it. You’re gasping softly, your back arches ever so slightly and your toes curl under the sheets. ‘Let those built-up feelings explode’ A noise leaves your mouth as a feeling rushes through your body like a coil snapping. Your eyes seal shut and you hold your breath as it does before you remember to breathe and pant heavily. Your fingers slow and you stop, body shaking slightly as you do. You remove your hand noticing the slight wetness and stickiness on your fingers. You go to the bathroom and have very shaky legs, leaning against the counter and washing your hands as you look at yourself in the mirror. Your face is flushed, and a layer of sweat covers you, you need to ask him what just happened, and why you’ve never felt like that before.

Next part ->

[perfectnarrative]

I have literally never before in my life paused a show simply just to gaze upon a work of art. The scream I scrumpt.

Gender Envy or Undying Affection Love? Nobody knows, Certainly not me.

[cosmic--static]

sleepover

[gilsart]

when every equation was solved, all that remained were fields of dreamless solitude. there is no prize to perfection; only an end to pursuit.

[noahl-art]

Sweet morning, laying with each other in bed 🥹❤️