#poor sweet viktor

[writingmysanity]

Dance

This is for the exchange through @therealtendercrisps for the lovely @capaldofilcumbergirl. I am so sorry about posting this so late, right near the deadline- I had some technical difficulties where it all got deleted and I had to re-write it for you. I really truly hope you enjoy this and have the absolute best new year <3

Word count: 2597

Silver crystals drip from the ceiling, glinting in the low, flickering light like new snow - as if it were melting from the deep cream walls, arching stories above the crowds. Low murmurs cascade like waves through the overly-decorated halls. Green garlands sweep from trellis to trellis, and brilliant cherry bows sway in the breeze of the twirling bodies below, where couples spin in candy cane-like swirls. Deep burgundy pairs with marbled creams, bright cherry reds seem to meld with crisp whites, with the odd, brilliant, emerald-green huddling close to cranberry-suited body somewhere in the corner. 

Smoothing out your own dress, you make your way to the edges of the crowds, looking for a breath away from the streamline of bodies, glinting with the purpose of showing off their wealth in ways they consider subtle- diamonds dangling from their ears and throats like icicles, golden trims flickering like firelight. 

After yet another purposeless conversation  with a garish group of men chortling {hi} on an ill-timed finance joke that none of them understand- you’re finally able to melt into the background, pressing yourself against the cool marble in an attempt to hide, your flute of wine balanced in your grasp. It’s a fruitless attempt to keep anyone else, including the waitstaff, from approaching you. 

“Why not join them?” a familiar voice hums at your side, interrupting  the faraway stare you've locked onto the blur of swirling, festive colors before you. Blinking up at the source of the sound, you try to fight the smile that threatens to tug at your lips- your first real smile of the night, you're sure of it. Above you, barely leaning against the wall beside you, Viktor stands tall, looking nothing short of regal. 

His hair is trimmed and brushed back in a way that reminds you more of the young man you met when you first attended Piltover academy, his bronzed eyes focused intensely on the dancing before you, as you had been. He is dressed in what you can only imagine is Jayce’s choice of attire- a glittering white suit lined with golden thread, its cranberry tie tucked neatly into his snowy waistcoat. 

“Dancing isn't really my thing,” you offer. You have to fight the weakness in your knees when he turns his attention to you, molten gaze melting over you as he smiles wide, scrunching up his nose and eyes in the process. 

“Somehow I doubt that,” he states softly, reaching up to brush at the golden tassels of the shoulder pads he looks none too comfortable wearing. He doesn’t  fuss, though. Laughing softly, you help straighten them out for him, allowing you to fall into a comfortable silence as you listen to the music wafting in from another corner  of the room, encouraging those around you to stay on the dance floor. 

“Are we still on?” he gently asks a moment later, looking at you from the corner of his eye. You don't even have to think about it, nodding happily.

“Of course we are,” you say, smiling  up at him and gently nudging his shoulder. “Why?” He says nothing at first, fingers gently sliding over your wrist as he tugs you closer. 

“You seem tired,” he says softly, barely loud enough to be heard by anyone else. His head tilts towards you, brilliant eyes trained on you like he’s analyzing a problem in the lab, as if you’re a puzzle he’ss still working out. You always feel naked under his gaze, like you’re little more than a pane of glass and he can see right through you. Sighing, you allow him to tug you towards one of the many tables surrounding the edges of the party, sinking into one of the chairs with a huff of relief to finally be off of your feet. 

“I am,” you grumble, offering him the best smile you can manage. “Mel can't seem to make anything simple, can she?” At this, he snorts a laugh, eyes dancing with mirth at you and your seeming suffering- the result of being Mel’s  event-planning coordinator. 

“I do not believe she has it in her to make any event a small affair,” he confirms, tugging your hand closer, toying with your fingers gently. “Perhaps a, uh, change of plans?” Humming in question, you turn towards him, softening with how he zeroes in on your hand in his own. “What’s your proposal?” 

“A night in?” he offers. Pouting, you stifle a whine, laying your upper body over his arms now rested on the table top. “But I love our date nights.” 

At this he laughs, a real laugh. He doesn't have a boisterous laugh like Jayce, but you can feel the joy as he shakes beneath your hold. 

“As do I, beloved,” he agrees. “And I am not proposing postponing our date night- quite the opposite.” 

Blinking up at him in curiosity, you flush as he lifts your hand to him, brushing his lips across your knuckles. 

“Leave it to me, hm?” 

Melting at the touch, you nod quickly, smiling happily. “You are going to plan it?” 

He just nods as Jayce calls for him once more. “I am- my little planner is getting the night off, okay?” he says with a grin. “Do not lift a finger.” 

And with that, he is gone. 

The rest of the night is smooth- the boys do their presentations, then they mingle, and, slowly- though much sooner than expected- they all begin to retire. You stand at the entrance with Mel, wishing them all well for the holidays, helping them to their rides. Then you are left to assure that the cleaning crew has detailed enough instructions to ensure that the job is done right, the first time. Before you know it, you’re alone in the building, the lighting melting away into the night as the candles fizzle down to their ends. 

Heaving a sigh, you slump onto the podium built for the band, pushing your heels off in relief, and looking around at the room- which had, not too long ago, been filled to the brim, now little more than the spirits of Christmas past. Golden light flickers enough to cast long shadows across the walls. Scattered footsteps echo around you as the cleaning crew moves around, doing their respective jobs. 

“Miss?” a voice resounds, much closer than you had expected. It startles you to your feet, whirling around to face a small girl with a kind smile as she bounces before you. Raising an eyebrow at her, you can't help your smile. 

“Melody,” you sigh in relief, hand on your chest. “You startled me, sweetheart- how can I help you?” 

Her smile just seems to grow as she kneels before you, setting a pair of comfortable-looking boots at your feet before handing you a note. 

“Your ride is here,” she states softly, giggling before seemingly melting into the shadows, continuing her work. Eyeing the shoes, you give them a curious glance and pick them up before making your way to the front of the building. 

You haven't called for a ride yet.

Much like she said, at the bottom of the steps is a carriage- glistening white with golden trim and cranberry-velvet seats.  The doorman hops down to open the door the moment you’re in view, valiantly ignoring the way the snow continues to fall over him, his smile easy and warm. 

Grinning softly, you slide the boots on, the sound of the scuff amusing you as you tread carefully down the now snow-covered steps. With a smile, you thank him for his help when he offers you his hand as you step up. He offers you a beaming grin  and a nod before bowing and shutting the door. 

“We are on our way, Miss!” he calls, spoken just a moment before the carriage starts to move. The cabin itself is nicely warmed, the benches nearly swallowing you whole as you melt into them, heaving a sigh before turning your attention to the note. 

Unfolding it gently, you can't help but smile. 

Lean back and relax, Love. I will see you at home. Enjoy the ride. 

It doesn't take long for the carriage to make it halfway across town. The ride is smooth, enough so that you almost start dozing off clutching the letter. You’e startled awake once more as the carriage slides to a stop and the door swings open. 

“Comfortable, Miss?” the doorman asks kindly, again offering his hand to help you out of the carriage. Smiling up at him once more, you nod. 

“Quite, thank you.” 

After a final bow, he glances towards the building you and Viktor live in. 

“Would you like an escort to the door, ma'am? It is awfully late.” 

“No, but thank you,” you assure him, making your way up the stairs. 

Once he’s started toward the front of the carriage, you pause and add,“Have a pleasant night! 

He just smiles back at you, wishing you the same before he disappears into the night. 

Before going in, you take a moment to admire the way the streets glow- brilliant blue hex lights flickering against the evening snow. They’re paired with the warmth of the street lights, wrapped in green tinsel and garish red bows, sprinkled with the white fluff still falling from the sky. With a content sigh, you trudge in, much happier with the boots than your heels, and, admittedly, much warmer. 

Rows and rows of cream halls, accented by the same green tinsel and garish red bows. You watch as the deep cranberry tick by you, counting absentmindedly, the numbers grounding you after such a long day. They whisper your favorite fact to you- it's almost over. 

298.

Just below the etching of the golden numbers is another note taped to the door, your name scrawled across the front, again. Smiling to yourself, you tug it down, unfolding it curiously. 

Just relax, Dove. Come in, and don't lift a finger.

Opening the door slowly, you peek in slowly, blinking at the low flickering lights. Soft candles are lit, lining the table and the hall where you had hung candle holders last summer, just enough light to light the way to the bedroom, flurries of rose petals littering the floor. Giggling, you follow them, peering around the door frame to the room and half-expecting to see Viktor there waiting. 

He isn't.

But the light in the bathroom catches your attention. Gently pushing the door open, you gape in awe at the sight. Your bath is drawn, the water still steaming as you enter the room- still following the rose petals- where several more candles are lit to help with the ambiance. 

The rose petals are even floating on top of the water,making your shoulders shake with laughter.  Somany rose petals. 

Next to the tub is another note.

Relax.

You're quick to get in, leaning back and sighing at the way the water seems to melt away the tension from your body on contact. Your favorite oils and salts rest on the side of the tub, which are soon added. You only get out once you start to prune, quickly getting out to dry off, wondering what else Viktor has planned. 

Or his hands. 

He must be back by now, right?

Laid out on the bed is your favorite comfortable dress, simple, but Viktor can never seem to keep his eyes off of you when you wear it…

Immediately, you slide it on, turning to admire yourself in the mirror. Checking to make sure nothing is snagged, you glance up to meet your favorite pair of glinting eyes. 

Viktor leans against the door frame, grinning. His jacket is gone, leaving him in just his waist coat and button-down shirt- which is rolled up to the sleeves, his tie still firmly tucked in. Although he has only lost a single layer, he looks much more comfortable. 

“Vik,” you beam, making towards him. 

“Dove,” he acknowledges, chuckling but making no move to meet you halfway. Instead, he reaches out to you- tugging you closer once you're in touching range, hand coming up to cradle your cheek, eyes flickering over you as if trying to memorize everything that is you. 

“Something on your mind?” you tease, earning a small smile. 

“Just you,” he hums, tugging your chin closer, brushing his lips to yours. You can't help but chase his lips when he pulls away, pouting when he stays out of range. 

“Hey,” you sulk, earning another chuckle. 

“Come now, Dove. More is planned.” 

“More than you?” you grin. 

“More than me.” 

He tugs you out into the living room, softening. The living room is bright, single candles lighting the table where two plates are set, behind which a roaring fire is going in the fireplace.  There’s a soft, lingering scent of food coming from the kitchen.

“Did you… cook?” you ask gently, letting him lead you to the table where he pushes you in gently. 

Shaking his head, he smiles. “Not this time,” he hums, the confession sounding more like an apology. “I didn't have time, I have to admit. It takes more time to plan than I have given credit.” He muses on his words for a moment before disappearing into the kitchen. 

“I just make it look easy,” you say with a grin, lifting slightly to see if you can catch a glimpse of him coming out to guess what he got. When he tsks after you, you settle back. 

“That you do,” he agrees as he heads back to you, balancing the containers in one hand- having to set them down on the table before separating them. Then he starts to divvy them up. 

Blinking, you look up at him in slight awe. “Where did you get this?” you ask softly, placing your hand over his. 

He pauses, offering you a small smile. “Small cafe on the edge of Piltover. Did… did I get the wrong thing?” His voice hitches with a twinge of worry, and you notice that he’s gone pale.. 

Quickly shaking your head, you lift to your feet to press your lips to his cheek, quieting any anxieties he may have. 

“It’s perfect, Viktor- I didn't even know they served this near us,” you whisper, looking at the meal before you, swallowing back the flood of  emotions that come from the various memories of watching your mother cook. 

He pauses before taking his seat beside you, he serves himself before resting his hand over yours with a smile, looking curiously at the food. 

“I have to admit, I have never tried this,” he hums, motioning for you to eat. After the first bite, you both pause. He is watching you. “How does it taste?” he asks slowly. 

Your smile is watery as he places his hand over yours. “Like home,” you whisper, moving your hand to lace your fingers. “Thank you so much.” 

He stands, turning to the living room, dropping the needle on the record player, where your favorite song starts to play.

“May I have this dance?” he asks, shifting a bit with his cane before offering you his hand. 

Grinning a bit, you take it happily. “Dancing isn't really my thing,” you tease, letting him tug you closer, laying your head on his shoulder.

He sets his cane against the wall not far from you, leaning some of his weight against you in a practiced motion as you both rock back and forth in circles around the living room. 

Smiling widely, he hums against your shoulder, whispering to you, amused. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

____

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[writingmysanity]

And more

Prompt: Family

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Word count: 734

A/N: sometimes family are those you've roped into loving you, blood be damned. whoever family is to you, I pray they're good to you, and if they aren't... I will take their kneecaps. <3

Life continues as the seasons change- your once vibrant garden painted brilliant shades of orange, red and purple. Lifeless piles of leaves being swept into the twirl of the wind, dancing around passer-byers as they huddle on, laughing, shoulder to shoulder. Humming happily, you huddle closer to the building walls to avoid the harshest of the wind pressing through the halls, rubbing your hands together trying to create more warmth before shoving them back into your jacket pockets for the remainder of your journey. 

Eyes ticking pass the various doors, you count to yourself, feeling the nerves settle in your system like fire searing through your veins. Your fingers curl into fists in your pockets as you can't help the smile that crosses your face as you settle before the deep burgundy door. A carbon copy of every other door lining the halls, lined with ivory trimmings, golden embossed numbers glossing off of the darkened surface.

298.

Taking a deep breath, you knock gently, wincing at how the hollow sound seems to echo back to you much more harshly with the sweep of the wind. There are only moments before the door creaks open, hazel eyes peering out at you before it swings open wide, Jayce’s infectious smile stretching your own as he pulls you in for a hug, very nearly lifting you from your feet.

“You made it,” he sings as he sets you down, tugging you in further. Laughing at his enthusiasm, you nod, shrugging off your jacket once you're met with the almost sweltering heat inside the apartment. 

“I had a choice?” you tease, earning a playful gasp as tries his best to act offended before melting into a fit of giggles, slinging his arm around your shoulders. 

“You’re right,” he grins, snickering a bit, lightly nudging you towards the hextech’s other half. “Viktor would have been miserable without you.” Rolling your eyes at him, you allow the stumble towards the quieter man, offering a smile and a small wave. He looks uncomfortable for a moment, you assume due to Jayce’s comment before he softens at your smile. 

“You’re late,” he chastises gently, motioning to the seat beside him. Fighting to keep your smile from growing, you plop down somewhat unceremoniously next to him, eyes sparkling in the low fairylights you are certain Mel strung up for ambiance. 

“Afraid I left you to fend for yourself with Talis?” he nods slowly, trying to remain the stoic, emotionally void man he shows the world, but you see the mischief dancing in his eyes.

“I was,” Jayce balks not far from you both where he is huddled up with Mel.

“I am a delight to have around,” his tone is enough to make you both break into a fit of laughter of your own. “I swear, I don't know why I try with you two.” he pouts. Mel is hiding her smile expertly behind her glass as she takes another sip. Giggles fade as you melt into conversation- shop talk cut off with pointed looks from you and Mel, reminding them gently that this is time away from work.

“Family time,” Jayce offers, looking rather fond. Despite your knowledge of how Viktor feels about Mel, you can't help the warmth that settles in your chest as you look at them all, a content smile crinkling your eyes when your eyes land on Viktor to find his eyes already glued to you. “To Family,” Jayce calls again. You aren't looking at him, but you're sure he's lifting his drink in a makeshift toast- already more than a few deep himself so he stumbles sloppily, Mel pressing deeper into his side with a shake of her head, mimicking his sentiment.

“To family,” she offers, softening when her eyes settle over you and viktor. “Not the family we were born with, but the family we've made.” You can't help the flush that colors the tips of your ears when Viktor’s fingers trace gingerly over the inside of your wrist, bronzed eyes flickering from your hand back up to yours as he traces his finger tips down the palm of your hand and over your fingers, a devilish crooked smirk wrinkling his nose a bit. 

“And more,” he whispers, a breath of hope lingering between you both leaving you breathless as you nod. His smile only grows when you whisper back, voice airy, barely there. “And more.”

____

Arcane taglist:

@grumpyoutlaw @thehistoriangirl @rainbowpitofdoom @wizarrdofooze @uniquedeerwitch @ace-of-zaun @aerynwrites @queenxxxsupreme @beeblybub @ears-queers-gears-n-fears @just-an-adventurer @katelynwithpaint @wtf-andys @urfriendlyneighbornightfury @selineram3421 @im-a-killer-queen  

If you would like to be added to the tag list, please send me a message or ask or something.

[writingmysanity]

Interesting

Prompt: Clouds

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Word count: 250

A/N: teaching Viktor some of Piltover's more benign, random pass times

“I do not understand the point in this, eh, exercise,” Viktor grumbles, eyeing the sky. Snorting in amusement, you look back at him, pressed up against your elbows, head flopping backwards in bliss as the wind picks at your hair. When you open your eyes, Viktor is staring at you, smiling softly, those brilliant molten eyes melting to a glittering gold in the late afternoon sun. 

“You’re supposed to try and find different shapes in the clouds,” you explain, falling back against the ground with a small grunt, eyes trained to the sky. “Like that one!” you point. His eyes follow curiously. 

“It looks like a… cloud.” giggling, you nod, shifting to gently tap your shoulder to his. 

“Yes, it does. Very fluffy,” you agree. “But me? I see a fish,” you state, pointing out each feature on it- the long body, open mouth and the two fins at the end. He stares for a long moment, and you're convinced that he is just going to mutter something about not seeing it, but he nods.

“I… I see it,” he mumbles curiously. “And that one?” he points to another on the other side of him. Shifting to prop yourself up onto your elbow, partially leaning over him to see where he is pointing. 

“A turtle,” you hum, nodding, unable to contain your excitement that he is at the very least humoring you. He tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowing as he seems to trace it out with his finger. 

“Interesting.” 

_____

Arcane taglist:

@grumpyoutlaw @thehistoriangirl @rainbowpitofdoom @wizarrdofooze @uniquedeerwitch @ace-of-zaun @aerynwrites @queenxxxsupreme @beeblybub @ears-queers-gears-n-fears @just-an-adventurer @katelynwithpaint @wtf-andys @urfriendlyneighbornightfury @selineram3421 @im-a-killer-queen  

If you would like to be added to the tag list, please send me a message or ask or something.

[writingmysanity]

Sanctuary Part 6

A/N: I am so sorry its been so long since the last update on this story. maybe that is why it is so long. I hope you enjoy it- Viktor gets to be a menace.

Word count: 4199

<Previous Master List Next>

Sighing softly, you try to ignore the chill that's begun settling over Piltover. For you, it is nothing. Your parents' furs are more than enough to keep you warm and cozy through the winter. But with the chill comes a certain level of pressure, to finish old projects and start new ones before the snow hits. For the last few months, you have been non-stop bustling around the garden and greenhouse, preparing for the chill- collecting the last of the year's harvests. 

Your once vibrant garden is painted brilliant shades of orange, red and purple. Lifeless piles of leaves being swept into the twirl of the wind, dancing around you as you continue digging in silence. Best to keep your hands busy to keep your thoughts at bay. 

Viktor has been unusually busy lately, the newest designs of his latest creation coming to a certain completion he has been pouring himself into with a certain desperation you aren't sure you've seen before- in anyone. Though you know the reason, the purpose, of his absence, it seems that you can't stop the way it stings knowing he now rarely has time for you. Your almost daily lunches moved to bi-weekly before fading to practically non-existence. And while you know that your presence is not only tolerated, but happily accepted at the lab, you can't help but feel guilty about stealing his attention from the projects he and Jayce have worked so hard to get funding for, and are now expected to show something for their efforts. 

You don't understand a single word that fumbles from his mouth as he sits there and relays every statistic, explaining every complex mechanical wonder he has progressed upon in earnest. You love listening to him, and hate the way he deflates when you have to leave. So you opt to stay away for a bit. 

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, does it not?

Perhaps you have both grown too dependent on each other's company- as expressed by the dull ache settling in your chest as the air seems to chill around you suddenly. 

Huffing in exertion, you can't help the small smile that twitches at your lips seeing how the smoke plumes in front of you before disappearing again. This winter will be a cold one, judging by how quickly the chill settled in. too engrossed with your thoughts- of the lists of things you need to do, Viktor, your yearly meetings with the counselor to discuss the coming year, Viktor, checking your inventory to assure yourself that you have enough to last you through the winter, Viktor- you don't hear the soft click of the cane.

“If I was a less assured man, I would assume that you are avoiding me,” the voice seems to come from nowhere and everywhere at once as you leap to your feet, hair a mess, flopping before being slicked to your forehead, hands and pants caked in dirt. 

The whole situation felt a tad too familiar as you locked eyes with the one man you had only barely begun to admit you've missed more than you should. Despite the confusion in his eyes, and perhaps a little hurt, he smiles, the motion scrunching his nose a bit. 

“Cute,” he muses as you gap up at him, quickly wiping your hands down your pants in an attempt to rid yourself of the thick substance as you stumble towards him. Clearing your throat, you smile up at him. 

“Viktor,” you breath, shoulders visibly relaxing as you settle, your hand resting over your heart. “You startled me.” chuckling, he paces closer to you, standing much closer than you expected, gingerly tucking some hair behind your ear. 

“I suppose that makes us even, hm?” huffing, you grin, nodding, melting into his touch. 

“What brings you to my gardens?” you tease, swallowing as you take a step back, wincing when he frowns. He pauses, mouth hanging open slightly as he ponders what he wants to say. 

“I was unaware that I needed a reason,” he hums, head falling to the side, eyes sliding over your form slowly before ticking back up to your face, pale golden gaze settling over you. His answer has you standing at attention, nearly lurching towards him, as if he would turn and leave, reaching for his hand automatically. 

“No-NO,” you hurry, wincing. “Sorry, no- you never need a reason” laughing softly, he lifts his hand slowly, resting his forehead to the inside of your wrist, his hand holding yours above unconsciously your fingers slide through his hair there, the motion making him shiver. 

“Good to know,” he hums, nuzzling softly, eyes closing before opening back to you slowly. “I have become hm… quite fond of its keeper.” your brain sputters to a stop when you feel his lips brush the length of your wrist to your palm and back down, lips parted in awe, your eyes zeroed in on his lips. The sight makes him smile, the action slow and mischievous as you instinctively huddle closer, swallowing.

“V-,” the moment is interrupted by the echo of laughter hauling towards you, a small group of students lumbering over the threshold as they head towards you.

“Nym!” one calls out, the youngest of your regular patrons and often the brightest, aside from viktor. She has been your only other company as she pestered you with questions- all of which you had happily answered… until this moment. As if reading the atmosphere, she looks sheepish as you take a step back from Viktor, offering her a smile, where you instinctively know that Viktor is not. Your hand slides from his in the motion as you wave her over.

May as well answer her questions now. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” you hum, waving off her apologies. There is no way she could have known- though you wished she had had better timing. Anxiously, she scratches at her arm.

“I was hoping you had some pumpkins leftover- we wanted to carve them?” She motions to her friends who are standing back, not quite as astute as she in realizing what they had broken up, but they seemed a bit on edge. 

“Of course,” you grin, nodding to the greenhouse. “They are in my office. Help yourselves. Please lock up after you're done.” you state pointedly, eyes flicking back towards Viktor, her smile growing as she nods.

“Will do,” she laughs, nodding to her friends who automatically start to follow her before she pauses. “Oh, and uh- have a good… day” her eyes shift to Viktor before back to you, eyebrow quirked. Huffing, you hide your grin as she treks off again. 

“Who… is she?” Viktor asks as you nudge him in the opposite direction. Sighing heavily, you bump your shoulder into his as you lead him back to the old council building. 

“A student who has shown a great interest in botany,” you state softly, looking up at him slowly. He nods, smiling a bit. 

“I hear they are considering opening classes,” he starts as you make it to the stairs. Motioning forward, you allow him to start first- setting the pace. “For botany.” he finishes after a few steps, running his fingers over the railings. You just hum in agreement, picking at the finish of your furs. 

“Yes,” you agree. “Mel brought me the idea two months ago.” you start slowly, watching your feet as you walk for a moment, pausing when he does, almost fully to the platform. After a moment of silence, he bumps his shoulder against yours, a gentle encouragement. 

“Oh?” glancing up at him through your lashes, you shift from foot to foot, offering a small smile. 

“She wants me to head them,” your words are slow, thick over the odd nervousness you have to swallow over. He brightens immediately, hands reaching for you. Gently, you encourage him to finish the last of the steps, holding onto him the best you can when his hands do not stray.

“Why did you not tell me?” his voice pitches, a mixture of excitement and hurt.

“I…” sighing again, you reach up to wipe a hair from his eyes, softening. “I have not agreed yet- I don't know if i have what it takes to teach.” unable to help them, your nerves surface, connecting your brain directly to your mouth. “I've never taught anyone anything before, Viktor. What if I am rotten? I have no background in education, like you. You were Heighmerdinger’s assistant. You have seen what it takes to run a course, at the very least. What am I going to teach? Would… anyone even be interested?” your voice fades slowly, words heavy with your insecurities. Unmoving, and seemingly impassive to your little rant, Viktor’s hand rests on the bend of your elbow, a soft sigh escaping him as he fights his smile. 

“Do you really think so little of yourself?” he asks gently, hand trailing up your arm and shoulder before resting on your cheek, barely holding you there. Automatically, you melt into his hold, leaning your face more into his hand, eyes closing as your hand comes to rest over top of his. 

“I…” pausing, you swallow the build up of the nerves again. “I have never been responsible for such things, Viktor.” you start slowly. “I have never been responsible for others before.”

“Nyal?” you shrug. 

“He has always been his own man, even as a child. The only thing I was able to steer him from was from veering himself right off a cliffs ledge.” he snorts above you, eyes crinkling at the corners in amusement. 

“A never ending job, I am sure,” he muses half-heartedly. You nod, laughing softly, lips half pressed into his palm, half mumbling into his skin. 

“Pay was shit,” you grouch, making him laugh, a full body laugh that makes his shoulders shake and the fingers resting on your cheek curl as he tugs you closer. 

“I can only imagine,” he puffs out a laugh, his head resting on top of yours as he settles you against him, in his arms. There is silence for a few moments before he speaks again. “You would be a wonderful teacher,” he assures you. “Should you accept.” 

Wrapping yourself around him, you sigh, resting your ear against his chest lightly as he tugs you closer. It's hard to not take note of how his heart rate seems to pick up, fluttering against your hold. The comfort only lasts a moment before you realize just how freezing his body is against yourself. 

“Vik, you’re freezing,” you tug backwards, frowning. Pouting down at you, he nods slowly. 

“And you were warm,” he huffs, face contorting unhappily at having you pull away so quickly. Laughing softly at his antics, you slide the furs from your shoulders before placing them over his. He blinks slowly, his face melting into contentment. 

“Oh,” he whispers, picking at the seams. “This… is this why your body feels like a heater?” snorting at him, you shrug. 

“I am always warm- my mother used to call me her personal furnace,” you laugh softly, gently herding him into one room not far down the hall. “Come on, let's get you properly warmed up.”

The walk is not long, slower if only because you keep at Viktor’s pace rather than your own as you slip into your living quarters. Humming softly, he walks in after you, pausing to take it all in while you hurry over to the fireplace.

Throwing a few logs onto the pile, you motion to the couches right behind you with a smile as you move to light the fire. Nodding, Viktor sinks into the couch, patting the cushioned armrest in curiosity as the pillows seem to meld around his body- fluffy and soft, seeming to take much pressure off of his joints in general, much less his leg. It is almost exactly as he had imagined it, soft yellows, pale greens and several shades of brown. Much of the furniture is older, worn and slightly threadbare- he can see where you had taken to mending it yourself, practiced stitches in various colors melting into lines of flowers and leaves. On every flat surface lies a plant- smaller potted flowers that he is sure had they been outside would have long lost their petals, brilliant colors livening up the room. 

On one side of the fireplace is a small loveseat, a small coffee table tucked in between it and the velvety chair resting across from it that is obviously your favorite seat, the cushions well worn, flattened where you lean. Behind him is your bed, tucked against the wall, various blankets and furs piled high, but left very much alone save for the side table slid in between the bricks of the fireplace and the headboard- a lamp and two books resting askew, as if hurriedly tossed to the side. 

His attention is brought back to you when you speak, eyes wide as they find yours- scrunched in amusement as you stand slowly, dusting your hands on your pants, the fire roaring behind you as warmth floods the room. 

“Hm?” he asks softly, blinking slowly, still half lost in thought. Laughing softly, you head to the tiny makeshift kitchen in the corner, setting some water to boil.

“Something to drink?” you ask again, humming to yourself. He nods quickly. 

“Coffee?” you snort, shaking your head. 

“No dice, Jayce tells me you drink entirely too much of it.” you tease, turning to lean against the counter, smile widening as his eyes narrow at you playfully. 

“Conspiring with Jayce are you?” there is no venom, his eyes dancing in the firelight, almost flickering as they melt. Having to shake your head slightly to keep from getting lost in them, you fiddle with your fingers. 

“No, he asks how you're doing occasionally when you're able to be with me more. Making sure you are actually eating on your lunch breaks, stuff like that.” you state plainly, looking up at him again, watching as his expression melts, the way his eyes are trained on you making you shiver, bronzed gaze reminding you much of your fathers fondness for honey whiskey. 

“One cup?” he tries, tilting his head. “I have only had two today.” laughing, you shake your head. 

“Normally, I would trust your math, but I do believe that when it comes to the number of cups of coffee you've had, I do believe that your judgment is skewed.” at this he pouts, making you laugh softly. 

“Apple cider?” you offer. Shaking his head slightly, he hums. 

“Not this time, thank you,” he sighs, resigning himself to the lack of caffeine. “Tea?” looking in your cupboards you motion to the selection- all self made. And nothing that he recognises. 

“Plethora, though many are more remedies than meant to just enjoy.” you start, digging around to see what all you have, muttering the names to yourself before you brighten, hands resting on a jar pressed deep into the back. “Hot chocolate?” you offer, holding up the bottle. 

Viktor brightens, nodding quickly. Laughing at his excitement you take the water off the heat moving to warm some milk instead. Slowly, he stands, watching you.

“Milk?” you nod. 

“Make it creamier.” you offer, smiling up at him. “A fondness I've acquired in Piltover.” 

“Ah,” he offers, leaning over your shoulder to watch, head hovering over your shoulder. You can feel how close he is. But instead of radiating heat like normally expected, it seems as if he holds nothing but a chill. Laughing softly, you reach back meaning to pat his head, but fingers meet his jaw and slide down slightly to his throat by accident, instead. Both of you still, your hand resting there for a moment before sliding off, trying your best to ignore how his breath sputtered against your shoulder. 

“Go…” swallowing back your embarrassment, you tilt your head towards him slightly. “Go warm up next to the fire, Vik. the drinks will be done soon.” you offer. He hesitates before nodding, the soft click of his cane and the sudden lack of his presence allowing you to relax. Taking a deep breath, you mix the chocolate powder once the milk is sufficiently warmed before making your way back over to him. He is sitting on the couch, looking up at the mantle above the fire where you have placed several smaller photos of your family and you. 

As you walk up, he offers you a small smile, thanking you as he takes the cup from your hand. You both rest back as you settle into your chair, silence settling over you as you sip on your drinks. Viktor gives a hum of appreciation, nodding. 

“Milk was a good choice,” he mumbles, making you laugh. 

“I am glad you approve,” you muse, setting the cup down on the coffee table after a moment. His eyes are back up to the mantle, lips tugging as he fights a frown. 

“Do you… miss them?” There is a moment of silence before you can bring yourself to speak, emotion bubbling up but you suppress it. 

“All the time,” you mutter, looking up at the pictures then back at Viktor to find his eyes already on you with that same focused, unreadable look. “Especially this time of year,” you hum, leaning back again, looking towards the fire. He nods. 

“This time of year is important to many,” he comments, having seen how workers have already begun to buzz around stringing up various colorful lights, brilliant golden and red ornate ornaments hanging from almost every surface. You nod, offering him a smile. 

“This time of year meant many things,” you agree. “Though I have found it's not quite the same as for the people here.'' There is silence for a bit as you both go back to your drinks, melting into the cushions, thinking of all of the traditions you just can't bring yourself to do alone. Hesitating, you look over at him, leaning back deep in thought.

“What do the holidays mean to you?” you ask softly, your voice startling him from his thoughts. He pauses a moment, contemplating his answer before shrugging slightly. 

“Little, now.” he admits, smiling when you frown. “In the undercity, this time of year often means death- especially to those with-” his voice fades as he motions to his cane, his meaning quite clear. Nodding, you wait to see if he will continue. “But,” he smiles softly, eyes drifting to the fire, thumb rubbing in circles on his mug as he loses himself in his thoughts for a moment more. “My parents, they made it… brighter. My mother, she was from the fissures. She was exposed to PIltover and its traditions. While they were unable to give me everything they wished-” 

You smile, leaning forwards slightly. “They gave you everything they had.” he just nods. “What changed?” you ask softly, not trying to drag him from his memories, his smile sliding from his face slowly, your lungs squeezing uncomfortably at the image. You can guess, but you give him the chance to speak, if he wishes. 

“They are… gone now.” His voice is soft, far off, like he is lost, eyes zeroed in on the fire as if it would burn away the emotions threatening to bubble over. Sliding from your seat, you settle before him on the coffee table, careful of your drink, hand resting over his lightly to give it a squeeze. Taking a steadying breath, his fingers curl around yours, giving them a gentle squeeze back before offering you a small smile. 

“I'm sorry” you whisper, settling in next to him on the couch. He shakes his head, dispelling the guilt he knows you're feeling. If anyone knows the pain, it's you. 

“It has been several years now,” he starts slowly, his accent thicker with his emotions. “Right before I came to Piltover.” 

“Why here?” 

“My parents’... they believed in me.” he pauses, swallowing again, looking down at you. “They told me that I would do great things. Piltover was the best chance I had. To become everything I could, everything they knew I could be.” Silence settles over you both, nothing but the crackling of the fire and the occasional sip of your drinks as you both lose yourselves to your thoughts once more. 

The loneliness that you've felt since your parents passed washes over you, settling heavy in your bones as you stare down into your mug, gently swirling the last of its contents as you mull over your memories. Gnawing at the inside of your cheek, you sigh before sheepishly turning towards the lanky man resting back against the cushions beside you. 

He is watching you, you can tell, even when his attention seems to have rested on the fire- the way his head tilts towards you, listening, waiting. 

Huffing in amusement, you shift in your seat, curling your legs under you as you turn your body towards him, waiting. He doesn't move, but you can see his lips twitch, the smug bastard. He is going to make you speak first. 

Clearing your throat, you watch with playful annoyance as he finally turns his physical attention towards you, shifting to rest his side into the back of the couch, head lulled over his arm resting across the back of it, mirth dancing in his eyes. 

“Yes, Miss Nym?” he teases, making you huff. 

“We’ve had this conversation.” you try to grouch, narrowing your eyes at him slightly, trying to act annoyed. He doesn't buy it, his smile growing significantly under your scrutiny. “Can you please call me anything else?” 

“Of course,” he begins, laughter shaking his form. “Professor.” shuddering slightly, you look away towards the fire, taking a deep breath.

“Okay, something else-” your breath catches when he leans forward, humming, eyes lidded as he takes in your avoidant gaze, chuckling before whispering your name- the third time he has ever used it- the sound making your breath sputter to a stop as your eyes snap to his. His eyes are heavy on you, flickering with a fever that makes you shudder as you remember the way his lips felt against your skin, eyes fluttering, wanting, hoping he would continue what had been interrupted before. With a final flicker towards what you assume are your lips, he leans back, taking a shuddering breath before his mask falls back into place, an easy smile landing on you, despite the way the handle on his cane creaks.

“What did you wish to ask… Nym,” he nearly whispers the name, taking the moment to reach for his mug, dropping his gaze from you. It takes you several moments to recover, swallowing down your disappointment as you lean to set your own mug on the table to keep from fiddling with it. You can feel his eyes on you, but when you look up his eyes are on his mug in his lap. 

“Do you… eh, What do you do now?” you start slowly, wincing at how your voice fumbles. “For the holidays, I mean.” he pauses before shrugging, eyes flickering up to yours once more, offering you a soft smile. 

“I work most often,” he begins. “Jayce involves me often.”

“Do you partake?” relaxing into the couch, you try to ignore the way your heart seems to want to try and escape, battering painfully against your ribcage at his chuckle. 

“To an extent,” he muses. “To save myself from that… look.” laughing softly, you nod. You know that look well- Jayce’s puppy eyes could put litters of puppies to shame, all of his emotions written there in his eyes. He pauses again, fiddling with his own mug. 

“Do you?” he asks softly after a moment. “Partake, I mean.” you take a moment, taking the final drink of your cocoa before shrugging, giving him a teasing smile. 

“To an extent,” he snorts, scrunching his nose at you- a motion you've learned is his version of ‘Ha-Ha. Funny.’ Laughing softly, you shrug again. “Mel includes me often.” you admit. His nose scrunches, more in distaste than amusement but his dislike for your boss has never been a secret. “I have few friends… and fewer family.” you state softly, silence settling over you both again. 

You both know what you want to ask- it's just a matter of who verbalizes it. 

This time, it is Viktor who sets his mug down, clearing his throat nervously as you turn towards him. You soften at his anxious smile as he tugs at loose thread on his pants. 

“Would you perhaps consider spending the holidays with… me?” His voice is soft, unsure as he looks back up at you, swallowing, eyes wide glittering in the low light, his emotions shining there much like his partners. Taking a breath, you scoot closer to him, gently pulling his hand away from tearing a hole in his pants, making note of his initial reaction to pull away before he stops himself. 

“I would love to.” you whisper, rubbing your thumb in circles on his palm, smiling when his body sags in relief, a wide grin stretching across his face.

____

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[writingmysanity]

Lullaby

Prompt: Lullaby

Pairing: Viktor x reader (Domestic!Viktor- does this have its own tag yet?? it should, its hot.)

Word count: 616

A/N: I am sorry that i have been so inconsistent on posting. I am trying '^^ mental stuff. Am getting better. i think. this is helping. If you have sent in a request, I am working on it. This is for my domestication of a feral scientist bit. it brings me much serotonin.

Humming to yourself, you fight to keep your eyes open, arms still automatically bouncing Aryn gently. Not even her shrill cries seem to be enough to keep you up much longer. Normally, Viktor would have long ago taken over, but Heigmerdinger claimed an emergency. He has been gone since the early hours of the morning.

Sighing, you glance out of the high windows, the only light shining through them is the yellowish radiance of the street lamps just outside. 

“Come on, sweet girl,” you whisper, voice thick with sleep, head lulling down to stare at her as you bounce her, her cries softening. “I know you need sleep- mama, too.” you must have been more tired than you realized because you didn't hear the sound of the door opening and closing, nor the tell tell sound of Viktor’s cane. In fact, you didn't notice him at all until his arm slid around your waist, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. Yelping softly, your head whips to look at him, clutching Aryn to your chest, heaving a deep sigh.

“Oh, Viktor,” you hum, offering him the best smile you can manage. The bags under his eyes nearly match your own. He smiles softly back, pressing his lips to your cheek. “Welcome home.”

“Hand her over, Dove,” he hums, moving to shift in front of you, opening his arms to the bundle wrapped to your chest. You frown, shaking your head. 

“You must be exhausted,” you grouch, body already reaching to set her in his arms. He chuckles, pressing his lips to your forehead, cradling Aryn to him with one arm, the other holding you there for a moment, allowing him to breathe you in with a deep sigh.

“You more than myself, Dove. Please, you need rest. Go lie down,” he mumbles into your hair, rubbing his thumb behind your ear. “You deserve it.” sighing, you look down at her, her fussing lessening now that she is in his arms. 

“Daddy’s girl,” you gripe playfully, grinning when his shoulders start to shake in laughter, knocking into your own. 

“I will be with you as soon as she is asleep,” he promises, lips brushing just above your eye. Nuzzling into your temple, he lets go of you in favor of taking hold of his cane once more. “I crave nothing more than sleep, as well.” sighing, you nod, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth before heading towards the bedroom. Before you're even able to flop onto its surface, you hear the soft groveling sound of your parents’ record player clicking in the background before a familiar tune starts. Smiling to yourself, you cuddle under the blankets, dozing off listening to Viktor sing to Aryn gently, her cries dying down quickly. 

You wake a few hours later to the soft patter of rain, and the gentle cooing of Aryn in the next room. Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you push yourself up, looking to your side. Viktor didn't make it to the bed. Sighing softly, you shake your head with a smile as you stand to make your way to the living room. Once there, you have to stifle your laughter, seeing Aryn swaddled and placed gently in the portable bassinet Viktor and Jayce had designed for her, eyes open wide, chattering away to her father who is lying half on the couch, arm thrown over his eyes, mouth ajar, a soft snore acting as ambient noise for the now bustling baby girl who has locked eyes with you. 

Allowing yourself a soft laugh, you sneak over to her, tugging her to you.

“Shh, let’s let papa rest, little one. He needs it.” 

____

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[writingmysanity]

Illumination

Prompt: Stained Glass

Pairing: Viktor x Reader

Word count: 559

Tw: none. tis fluff.

A/N: This is going towards my domestication of a feral scientist random blurb list. Reader is preggo with baby Aryn. this is sort of a tentative part two to HOME. Whoop, also, hello all. I am really sorry about the random time lapse. Life has been hectic. But I am back now to write up a storm.

The weeks following the move into the new house were busy- mainly for Jayce and VIktor. They both refused to allow you to help with anything of consequence due to the pregnancy, despite your doctor stating that you were more than capable of helping, as long as it is something you would have normally done prior- nothing too strenuous but your job description rarely relied on strenuous tasks. There is little heavy lifting in being Mel’s aid. 

While Viktor works on your shared room– doing what, you are unsure seeing as he, too, can not lift much– you work on the living room. There is little to lift, but plenty to clean. Jayce has cleared out the middle wall, separating the kitchen from the living area, opening the space dramatically. 

Settled onto the coffee table is your record player, your parents. It is old and barely working, the sound coming out slightly more static-y than you remember it being as a child, but you don't care. Happily, you drop the arm, sighing in relief when the melody begins, quickly filling the space with its gentle melody. You have long forgotten the words your mother used to sing, but you still feel the warmth of her arms around you while she sings, the melody easing your fears. Spinning around with the broom, can't help the smile that stretches across your face as you swirl to a stop at the windows, opting to clear some of the residual dust and dirt from the vibrant stained glass windows you discovered the day prior- all covered and boarded up. The brilliant blues, greens and purples flood the room, staining the hardwood floors, shadows flickering amongst the fuzzy rays as you move, humming out loud. 

In the all but empty home, the music echoes, dancing down the hall and into your room, making Viktor pause in his work. Listening intently, he softens, running his thumb over the hook of his cane as he wanders closer, careful not to make too much noise, sighing happily. He knows this song.

Pausing at the end of the hall, he leans against the wall, watching you dance in the light, swirling around with the broom. Your skirt flutters around your ankles, lifting slightly as you twirl making you feel like you're walking on air. The dancing lights remind him much of the mosaics you had shown him once, illuminating the warmth of your smile as you spin to a stop, a giggle escaping your lips as you continue to hum, only catching a glimpse of his form before you spin to a stop- half bowed, arm stretched in his direction, hand out. 

An invitation.

Unable to stop his own smile, he steps forward slowly, settling his cane off to the side as he tugs you closer, settling your body neatly against his. Slowly, he wraps one arm around your waist, fingers curling around your hip lightly as he takes your hand with his free one, fingers slotting around yours as he tugs you to follow his steps. Grinning, you do so gladly, freezing only when he drops his head to rest his mouth next to your ear, softly singing the words as he spins you. Taking a weak breath, you tug him closer, resting your forehead to his shoulder, mouthing the words back as they come flooding back.

___

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[writingmysanity]

Favor Chapter 2

A/N: @spiderholland101 Hi sweetheart, I hope you are doing better. I am so sorry that it's taken so long to get this next chapter out- I promise it will be quicker after this. Life got hectic for a bit. I hope you enjoy this <3

Word count: 2472

<Previous Master List Next>

The soft scratching wakes you, the room mainly still cast in darkness save the pair of candles flickering on the desk settled between the bed and the wall, conveniently on the other side of the bed from you. Viktor is there, his lean figure hunched over the desk, working. You watch him in silence for a while, wondering what he could possibly be working on at this time of night- the sky is still black. 

You try not to snicker when he huffs, his hair falling into his face before he pushes it away, running his hands through his hair in an attempt to keep it tamed and to the side. Shifting slightly, you almost speak, wanting nothing more than to thank him for saving you- but he stops. Golden eyes, flickering molten in the low candle light, landing on you accented by a surprised breath. They’re brighter- you swear- pools of glittering gold, reminiscent of the golden blooms that grace your shop come spring, brightened more by the darkness that surrounds them. The bags weigh heavy, his eyes lulled in demand of sleep- and yet he fights. 

Opening your mouth to state your thanks, you jump when he leaps to his feet and turns away. He is out the door before you’re able to utter a word. 

Well, it couldn't be something that I said.

Sighing, you rest back into the blankets, staring out at the void settled just outside the panes. You swear something moves out there- a shadow shifting amongst the others- but think better of it. This whole experience must be messing with you– you were never this paranoid in Piltover.

You were never in danger in Piltover. You remind yourself, whimpering softly when you roll your shoulders in an attempt to get comfortable again. The pain shoots right to your head, the gentle pounding turning to a stinging ache, making you hiss. The medicine had worn off while you were asleep. 

Glancing back towards the candles, their light still flickering, keeping the shadows at bay, you notice a glass and a pill that looks familiar. Much like the one Blitzcrank had given you before. Humming, you weigh the options- perhaps the medication is not meant for you, he had been sitting there prior to your waking, and obviously he hadnt meant to be caught. Had he meant to leave it for you?

Grouching to yourself, you push yourself up slowly with your elbows. That is a problem for tomorrow, you decide, popping the pill into your mouth before washing it down with the glass of water Blitzcrank had left you previously. 

The next morning, you are woken by the door creaking open, and the shuffle of footsteps, obviously trying to be as quiet as possible. Sighing softly, you wretch your eyes open, glancing towards the door, eyebrows furrowed. You aren't sure what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn't the small child you had seen sleeping beside you yesterday. She is standing there, shifting from one foot to the other, glancing out the door then back at you- almost nervous. You fear if you move too quickly that she will disappear, much like the rabbits your mother kept. Nervous creatures. 

Offering her a soft smile, you opt to sit up slowly, tilting your head slightly. She takes it as an invitation, slowly taking another step inside, allowing the door to swing closed behind her.

“Hello,” her voice is soft, and you can't help but smile, softening at her. You offer a greeting in return, the sound scratchy and rough. Before you're able to, she is already reaching for your glass, handing it to you. Muttering your thanks, you take a sip before setting it back down, turning your attention back to her. 

“You seem nervous, little rabbit.” you observe as she twitches towards the door when you set the cup down slightly harder than you meant. At the nickname she perks up, blinking owlishly up at you. Her eyes remind you of the sky, you realize. Her fathers being like the sun, it makes sense. 

“My name is Powder,” she states as a matter of factly. “Not rabbit.” laughing softly, you nod. 

“Pleasure to meet you, powder- I did not mean to offend.” she shakes her head quickly, bouncing on the balls of her feet, humming in consideration. 

“I like it,” she says softly after a minute of deliberation, offering you a small smile. “Can you call me it again?” this catches you off guard, but makes you laugh, the sound rough, but you nod. 

“Rabbit or little rabbit?” humming again, she nods to herself. 

“Little rabbit,” she concludes. “I am not quite a large rabbit yet.” she grins, settling into the chair beside you. Shifting to face her more, you try not to wince at the way your skin seems to tense and tug at your movements, folding your legs towards yourself as you sit up. 

“Little rabbit it is,” you agree. “So what brings you here, little rabbit?” you tease gently, tilting your head towards her. Shifting in her seat, she glances at the floor, before back at you. 

“I wanted to see you,” she admits, brows furrowed, a look of deep sorrow embedded in her brilliant eyes. Frowning gently, you move to reach out to her, retracting your hand when she flinches away from you. 

“You aren't in trouble, little one, I was merely curious.” you assure her gently, letting your hand settle in your lap again. She nods, her smile forced. There is a few minutes of quiet as you allow her to muddle through her thoughts, until your stomach lurching catches both of your attention, the growl very nearly echoing throughout the room, startling you both. 

“Blitzcrank is making you food,” she states clearly, hopping to her feet. “I will go check on it.” Before you're able to get another word in, she is gone, the door left ajar as she sprinted through it, her footsteps fading into the background as silence settles around you once more. With nothing more than the creaking of the house settling and shifting in the early morning sun, you are forced to consider where you are- no longer quite frightened of your surroundings- though they are decidedly odd- you oddly find a form of contentment you haven't felt since you were a child. There is no need to leap up to tend to the shop back home, you've got nowhere to be, nor do you really have anywhere you want to be. 

You're dead, for all intents and purposes. 

This could be the fresh start you had dreamed of when you were a child- the chance to live your life the way your family never intended… with happiness in mind. You realized. You were never raised with happiness in mind, simply with business proposals. Your marriage itself was a business move your mother forced your father into when you were quite young. 19, young by even Piltover’s standards for a lady of pedigree to marry. Especially to the oaf you were married– sold– off to. Him being 15 years your senior. 

You aren't given much chance to deliberate the chance you've been given, to start anew, before Powder is back by your side, clumsily balancing the tray, tongue sticking out in concentration as she fights the pull of the metal to lean one way or another- her eyebrows pinching. Reaching out to help her, you grasp the tray with both hands, laughing softly at the relief that rolls off of her as it is set into your lap, her other hand occupied by a rather full pitcher. 

“Could you not have asked for help?” you joke, taking the refreshed glass of water she offers you after she sets the pitcher down. She snorts, her own smile small, but it is there.

“And give Blitzcrank the satisfaction?” she offers, huffing as she settles into the chair once more. “I dont think so.” laughing again, you look down at the plate. The food, that you are sure had once been separated and clean, is very well mixed now, eggs rolled over the potatoes, the bacon having made it completely off of the plate. 

“You did a wonderful job,” you compliment, taking note of the way she perks up, her eyes seeming to really sparkle in the early morning light. “Thank you.” taking a bite of the toast, you force yourself to slow down- to not scarf the entirety of your meal down in a single bite like you had before, shuddering at the lack of manners, and how your mother would have reacted. You are drawn from the thoughts when powder turns towards you, knees tucked to her chest as she regards you, chin resting on top of her knees, arms wrapped around her legs. 

“Mister VIktor says that you will be staying with us for a while,” blinking up at her, you frown a bit.

“Did he now?” she just nods, pointing to your head.

“He says you hit your head hard, and that he ‘can not in good conscience allow you to travel in such a state’,” she quotes with a shrug. Blinking, you nod slightly. 

“That makes sense, I suppose.” offering her a piece of bacon, you watch happily as she takes it, snorting in amusement when she shoves the entirety in her mouth, her thanks being muttered through her chewing. 

“Will you stay?” she asks after she is done chewing. Blinking in confusion, you raise an eyebrow at her.

“Stay?” she nods.

“He says that he would like you to stay, but you can not be made to stay, even in your condition.” she clarifies. 

“Ah,” you nod, smiling softly. “I appreciate his concern.” you begin, chewing on your toast for a quiet moment, fingers drumming on your leg in thought. “I have little else to be- so i suppose this would be the best place for me to stay for now. If I am welcome.” you say slowly, considering her form. She just nods quickly, smiling brilliantly before taking back off out of the door, this time taking the time to make sure that it closes all of the way. 

You are once more left in silence, the only sounds being that of your quiet chewing, laughing softly at her antics.

This family, you muse. How interesting. 

The next few days go like this, as you are bed bound as your body heals. You wake to Viktor in the room, pitch black skies. He is never doing the same thing, as if he can't seem to keep still. Sometimes reading, other times working, and this morning, he was just sitting there, staring out the window in concern- eyes trained on the shadows much like yours had been that first morning. 

Each time, he bolts when he realizes that you are awake, leaving your mouth hung open, words dying on your lips as his figure disappears around the corner- the sound of a more hollow thump echoing the halls as he hurries away, his gait more of a limp- like he is still getting used to the way his foot hits the ground. 

This time, you open your mouth before he notices you are awake, taking full advantage of the opportunity. He is on his feet as soon as the first words leave your mouth- already at the door when you're able to complete your thought, his hands hesitating against the frame as he pauses. 

“Are you ever going to allow me the chance to thank you properly?” he doesn't face you right away, his movements slow, calculated as he turns only his head towards you, shimmering eyes focused on you. 

The feet, your mother reminded you. The feet don't lie- if they are pointed away, they are trying to get away. Either reel them in, or let them go. Always the lady, she had reminded you of that many times growing up. Though you can't help but feel as if you have his full attention, despite the fact that he quite literally has one foot out of the door. Slowly, he nods, shifting slightly to face you better, though he moves no closer. 

Sighing, you shift to sit up, rolling your shoulders slowly, smiling to yourself when you don't automatically wince in pain. Blinking up at him, you set your hands on your lap, fiddling with the edge of the blanket, mouth opening and closing as you try to find the perfect words- but none seem satisfactory. He doesn't offer any words of his own, but he also doesn't seem to be in much of a hurry, either. He doesn't shift, his gaze stays on you, the same softness lingering there as the first night as he waits patiently. 

“Thank you,” you settle, knowing that those two words will never fully convey how much you appreciate him for what he's done. He nods slowly, lips twitching in a semblance of a smile, his shoulders slouching slightly. “For saving me from the…'' shivering at the resurgence of your memories once more, the feeling of the tide washing over you as you hug towards yourself– but you didn't miss the way his hand twitched at his side, as if he wanted to reach out for you. To comfort you. Your voice is thick when you force more out, heavy with emotion. “Thank you, more than i can ever say- thank you for letting me stay to heal.” 

His mouth twitches again, lips parting, like he is forcing himself to not speak, his gaze only melting more, a deep sadness lingering beneath the surface as he nods again. You can almost make out the words that die on his lips. 

Of course

How could I leave you?

And while you know those words would be heaven to hear- you know that the very simple answer would have been easily. Many men, even in Piltover– especially in Piltover– would have chosen their own well being over that of someone who they know nothing about. In fact, you are sure, many of them would sacrifice their own loved ones for their own gain. 

Before you are able to speak again, he is gone, with nothing more than the fading image of his golden stare as his silhouette stood cast in shadow. With nothing more than the flickering light of the candles to keep you company, the terrible shadows they cast against the walls around you.

Forgetting the simple fact that fire has no shadow. 

Forgotten, or ignored. 

Sighing, you shift back under the covers, pulling them up over your shoulders, lamenting over being left with the lingering emotions, once more resurfaced, and the decided fact that Viktor has purposefully not speaking to you. 

Perhaps it is something that I said, you realize. Did I speak in my delirium?

____

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[writingmysanity]

Drabble challenge but I’m greedy so choice of two:

20. “D..did you just make that noise?”

78. “That’s my shirt. So is that… Wait?”

Tysm, I love your writing ❤️😊

A/N: sorry I haven't been able to post as much. i have much going but life has been throwing me so many curve balls and I am just starting to catch my breathe. This is set the morning after they're married- off on their honeymoon. Misson Domestication of a feral scientist is still ON

Thank you for your request darling- I'm sorry it took me so long to get to it. I had it set to answer and I just kept running out of time. I hope this makes up for it.

Word count: 616

TW: mention of lack of clothing, suggestive but SFW. Kissing. Is that a warning?

Morning After

“Viktor?” you call gently, from the room, making him crane his neck from the desk provided by the renter- papers scattered across its surface, offering an acknowledging hum. Coming to the door, you pause in buttoning up your shirt to lean on the door frame looking at him amused, his eyes already back to the papers.

“I… this isn't exactly how most couples spend their honeymoon,” you tease, padding up behind him, resting your palm on the surface, careful to not rest it on his papers. His eyebrow lifts but his eyes don't move to meet yours this time.

“How is that, Dove?” he asks, lips twitching at your teasing tone. You had a way of bringing him peace, even in his current state. “Not in bed?” he teases back, eyes finally lifting to meet yours, eyes widening as he takes you in, whiskey eyes darkening. Lips curling mischievously, you lean forward, the tip of your nose tracing the curve of his ear as you hum.

“Working,” you correct him, your voice a purr. He doesn't try to suppress the shudder that wracks through his entire body, breath stalling, eyes sliding down to your clothes- larger baggy white button down half buttoned- long enough that he can't see your shorts.

“That… that is my shirt,” he sputters out, swallowing slowly, fingers wrapping around the edge of the desk, as if fighting to keep his hands to himself. Laughing softly to yourself, you shift, allowing the shirt to fall away from your form just enough for him to get a better angled view down it. Your skin is bare, save the lacey underwear Mel had helped you pick out.

No shorts

The groan that tears from his chest leaves his lips sounding like a strangled whimper as he pushes the chair back, nearly forgetting his cane to stand. Your lips meet his halfway, the pressure of his body crashing to yours drawing a pleased sigh from you. He lets out an almost squeak when you nip his bottom lip, tugging it between yours for a moment, eyes flicking up at him, amusement dancing in the low light of the room.

“Did… you just make that sound?” groaning, his head flops to your shoulder for a moment, forehead pressing to your neck.

“You are meant to be nice to your husband,” he grouches lightly, with zero venom. You grin, head lulling back at the touch of his lips to the skin there, sighing, eyes lidded.

“I am,” you state, body arching into his, earning a pleased grunt as his kisses gain heat, picking and marking at the skin there with his teeth.

“And yet you tease me,” your laugh devolves into a whine, the vibrations tickling Viktors lips as they press to your throat.

“Who else am I to tease?” you ask sincerely, slowly tugging him towards the room by his tie. It takes him a moment to answer, his eyes caught soaking in every inch of skin he can find as you unbutton the few buttons you had attempted to do before.

“Jayce,” he offers, following you like a moth to a flame. Pausing in mock offense, you stop him from moving, hand on his chest as you lean up, brushing your nose to his, breathing in his sigh.

“You dare mention another man's name on our honeymoon,” you tease again, melting when his eyes meet yours again, his honeyed eyes eclipsed by his blown pupils.

“You are correct, Dove,” he whispers, lips bridging the gap, lips falling to yours in a rush, clumsy and uncoordinated for a moment as you both fall into a rhythm. “I will make no such mistake going forward- I assure you.”

-----

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[writingmysanity]

Cravings

A/N: another small piece to add to the Papa!viktor domestication collection! I am going away for the weekend, and I will not have good internet so I may not be able to post anymore until Monday. Please enjoy and if there's anything you'd like to see in our mutual domestication of our wild scientist- please don't be afraid to send it in.

Word count: 344

The slow high pitched screech pierces through the air as Viktor rushes in, frantic. 

“Dove?” he calls, waving off the small wafts of smoke lingering around your silhouette like a fog, wincing when you slam a pan into the sink with a sob. “Are you injured?” ignoring the smoke, he steps closer, giving a soft huff when you push into his chest, head resting on his shoulder, fingers curling in his shirt. 

“Damn food,” you curse, words thick and heavy- muffled against his shirt. Sighing, he lifts you gently, searching your face before gently uncurling your fingers from him to inspect them. 

“Did you hurt yourself?” he asks again, somehow more firm, but softer- seeing the tears in your eyes. You shake your head a bit looking lost. 

“Does it matter?” looking unimpressed by your grumblings, he sighs heavily through his nose. 

“Of course it does, Dove.” he assures you, hand reaching to cradle your cheek to make you look at him. “Your safety is always important.” 

“And now?” it takes him a moment to realize you meant now that he knows you are well and safe. Chuckling softly, he pauses for only a moment before pressing his lips between your eyebrows. 

“Your frustration is also important.” melting at the contact, you nod, wiping at the tears still falling. 

“I'm hungry,” you mutter, he snorts, nodding. 

“Indeed, Dove,” he hums, hands resting automatically on your rounding stomach. “I have noticed- what is the little one asking for now?” looking up at him through your lashes, worrying at your lip, you fight the urge to twist your fingers.

“I wanted eggs and potatoes,” you sigh. “But I forgot about it… and it burned.” Nodding a bit, he smooths his thumb over the small tent the baby has made against your skin- pressing hard with her heel. 

“How would you like to order out?” beaming, you nod. Smiling down at you, he motions towards the couch in the living room. “Very well, make yourself comfortable, darling. I will see to it. It will be here soon.”

____

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[writingmysanity]

Aftershocks

A/N: ah so... this is set in Sanctuary AU. It is a bit rougher than previously done, but I felt the need to have this piece out there.

TW: Death. PTSD. Blood.

Word Count: 1111

Boom

Cannons thunder in the distance, the aftershocks shaking the ground beneath your feet as you scramble for cover. A hand clamps over your mouth to muffle your cries as you huddle closer, your hand moving to muffle your brother’s cries as well.

“Be strong,” your mother whispers as she pushes away from you, ignoring the tangle of hands chasing her as she puts as much distance between you and her as possible. Choking out her name, you sob. She pauses, pain and regret leaching into her normally self assured gaze.

“We need you,” your brother tries, but his hold on you doesn't waver, keeping you from leaping after her. When she shakes her head, his grip tightens as your body lurches, sobs shaking your shoulders.

“You have all you need,” she gasps, tears clouding her vision, looking at you both like trying to commit the image to memory. “Whatever happens, know we love you.”

Pop

Progress day, a day to celebrate every step towards the future. Mel had explained excitedly, hands resting on your arms lightly, trying her hardest to convince you to attend this year. The frown that etches on her ever ethereal face makes you wince, even now as you lie bundled under your piles of blankets, hands over your ears. Choking back another sob as yet another shot rings out before the static-y ripple echoes throughout all of Piltover, you curl in on yourself.

You have no doubt that the presentation is breathtaking- Viktor himself had helped create the fireworks.

I’m sorry, you gasp to yourself, staring through the distant glow of your lights through the layers over you, body shaking despite the warmth enveloping you, too afraid to close your eyes.

Silence washes over you both- a sickly feeling settling in the pit of your stomach making you dizzy. After waiting for a few minutes you haul yourself up, forcing Nyal up after you, chasing you down.

“It isn't safe,” he whispers harshly, grabbing at your arm. Yanking out of his hold you take off around the bend you watched your parents disappear around before coming to a complete stand still. Nyal nearly rams into your back as you stand there, having to wrap himself around you to keep you from falling as a scream wretches from your chest- the sound echoing harshly against the rock face looming overhead.

Bodies lie in piles, red running like rivers over the cliffs, being washed away by the tides. Automatically, your eyes fall on the pair you cared most about, broken and bloody. Yanking out of Nyal’s arms you sob, crawling over to them on your hands and knees, your legs having given way to your weight at your first step.

“Mama,” you cry, shaking her shoulder, watching as her head flops limply, large dark eyes open and staring back at you. “Papa,” you call brokenly, reaching for him automatically, his hand curled protectively around your mothers waist. Catching up to you quickly, Nyal hauls you up over his shoulder and running as he hears the clank of metal hitting the soil.

They were coming back.

“Dove?” breaking from your memories, you all but lurch from your protective bundling when his hand rests on your form, scream dying on your lips as you stare at him as you press yourself harder against the wall, another cry shuddering through you.

“No,” you gasp, tears clouding your vision, his figure fading to that of a misshapen blob. “No, no, no- please.” he recoils immediately, moving to the other side of the room to give you some room, whispering to you.

“Sh,” he breathes, watching you, heartbroken. “It is only me,” he assures you, settling in the chair in the corner- the furthest he can be from you while being in the room. Taking a shuddering breath, you nearly claw the tears away, whimpering. After several minutes, looking blankly at him across from you, breath shuddering gasps, the fog lifts, his image starting to replace that of the blood-caked bodies.

“V…VIktor?” he nods, humming an affirmative, eyeing you gently.

“I am here, darling,” he assures you. Crawling from the corner of the bed, you settle on the edge, taking deep breaths, wiping the tears away as they fall.

“Why?” you hiccup, sniffling. He frowns.

“Why what, sweet girl?”

“Why are you here?” silence settles between you as he stands slowly, watching you as he steps towards you. When you don't recoil, he takes another step, then another, pausing with each one to make sure he isn't pushing you away once more.

“Where else would I be?” His voice is soft, the click of his cane grounding you as he grows closer.

“Progress day,” you offer, voice airy, dizzy. He pauses before you, tapping his cane against your ankle gently.

“I prefer the quiet,” he states softly. “May I sit?” he is motioning to the floor before you, but you move over, allowing him to settle beside you- pliable as your gaze locks on his cane. Sinking into the mattress beside you, he waits, tapping the bed to get your attention after several moments of silence.

“Can I touch you?” silently, your fingers inch towards his, twitching to grab at his. Taking the silent invitation, he reaches for you, fingers curling around yours as a gasp breaks from your chest in time with another earth rattling boom echoes around you. Frowning, he brings his lips to your knuckles, the gesture grounding you slightly as your breath grows heavy again.

“What do you need?” your answer is immediate, gasped and weak.

“I need you closer,” without another word, you are wrapped up in his arms, head buried in his chest as the fireworks continue outside. He shushes you gently as he works to pull the blankets back again before settling them around you both, pulled tightly over your heads.

“Sh,” his voice barely above a whisper. “I have you, darling.” he promises, arms hugging your head to his chest, arms becoming more like ear muffs, muffling the noise that continues to rattle your body. Tangling his legs with yours, he curls around you, nose nuzzling into your hair, whispering to you in his mother tongue. He's been teaching you, but you only are able to focus on a few.

Safe

Here

Love.

Leaning forward a bit to whisper in your ear directly, he whispers. “You are safe- I am not leaving you.” between the thump of his heart against one ear and his words in the other, you hear nothing else, sobbing in relief.

“Promise?”

“Nothing can tear me from you.” he promises, hand moving to run up and down your back soothingly. “Nothing.”

-----

@grumpyoutlaw @thehistoriangirl @rainbowpitofdoom @wizarrdofooze @uniquedeerwitch @ace-of-zaun @aerynwrites @queenxxxsupreme @beeblybub @ears-queers-gears-n-fears @just-an-adventurer @katelynwithpaint @wtf-andy @selineram3421 @im-a-killer-queen

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[writingmysanity]

Home

A/N: honestly, I almost made these two different parts but eh. why not put it together? Jayce is such a people pleaser. But he's so sweet. They had to move in together sometime. Thank you, guys, for putting up with my brain rot with this precious little AU

TW: None. Really sweet, I think. Domestication of the wild feral scientist.

Word count: 2124

Silently, you set the cup of coffee beside the slouched figure next to you, stifling a smile. Whispering his name, you nudge his side gently, snickering at his grumbles after you as his head lifts just enough to narrow his eyes at you.

“Dove,” he grouches, despite the sweet nickname he has bestowed upon you. “I am tired, please allow me the chance to rest before Jayce gets back. I am out of coffee.” you just grin, pushing the mug towards him lightly, watching his eyes widen slightly.

“I know, i brought you some,” taking a sip of your own, you watch him drag the mug to his lips much quicker than you would deem safe. After taking a long drink, he sets it down, looking infinitely more satisfied. 

“Are you not supposed to avoid coffee while pregnant?” he eyes you slightly, fussing over you as he has since you told him. Normally, you would hate it, but for some reason… as long as it is him, you find you dont mind it as much. 

“What? Not thank you before launching into chastising me?” you tease, setting your mug down, allowing him to see inside. Sighing, he leans over to peer into your mug, sniffing it a bit. Ginger tea.

“Thank you,” you just nod, but his gaze does not drop from you hesitating as he taps the lip of your mug. “Ginger helps nausea, yes?” again, you nod, tilting your head. He frowns.

“I’m okay, morning sickness. It’s normal.” you assure him. He looks unsure, but nods allowing it to drop. But he doesn't seem any more at ease. Sighing, you nudge him with your shoulder, gently. 

“Speak now, or forever hold your peace,” you joke, eyeing him. He just looks down at his mug, eyebrows furrowing in thought. “Hey, V, I was kidding,” his nose just scrunches a bit, twitching in a way that reminds you of a rabbit. 

“I am aware,” he sighs, leaning back in his seat before eyeing the lab door, as if waiting for someone to march through at that moment. “I just have much on my mind, that is all.” you pause, frowning.

“About work, or about the baby?” 

“Work and the baby,” he admits softly. “And you.” 

“Me?” he nods slightly, eyeing you out of the corner of his eye, fingers twisting his mug slowly. 

“Housing,” he offers, looking at you fully now. 

“I have an apartment,” he nods, the hesitancy settling into his eyes and the way his lips twitch.

“I am aware,” he starts. “And while I understand your need for your independence” he is eyeing you unsure, licking his lips nervously. “Would you consider…”

“You want to move in together,” you cut him off as he struggles. Snapping his mouth shut, he nods, looking like a bit of a kicked puppy- though you're positive it has more to do with his nerves about asking you to “give up freedom” than you cutting off his highly uncharacteristic stammering. 

“Yes,” mulling it over for a moment, you pick your mug back up to take a sip.

“I assume it would be closer to the lab,” you state, as if you had already made up your mind. His shoulders slouch a bit in relief.

“I… hoped so, but it is not a requirement. I do not plan to spend every moment in the lab, not now.” raising an eyebrow at him, you let him have the floor, motioning for him to continue- if he so wishes. Sighing, he shifts in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable but lifts his chin a bit, a soft smile gracing his face. “I plan to be there for you both… as much as possible. Shorter hours working and more rest would be beneficial to my work as well- a well rested mind.” you nod.

“Of course,” he huffs, nostrils flaring a bit at your teasing, but his smile grows.

“I wish to be there for you,” his voice is quiet, but in the silence of the lab, it seems to echo. “In any way that I am able-” he pauses, unsure. “Anyway you need me. I will do my best.” softening, you lean towards him, squeezing his fingers that have come to rest in his lap. 

“Seeing your face will help immensely,” you soothe his worries. “Most things will be done by…” you motion to your stomach with a grin. He snorts a bit, nodding. “But I would appreciate the help getting ready for her.” he sputters to a stop, eyes round in shock.

“Her?” his eyes flick between yours and your stomach, furrowing. “You know already?” you shake your head slightly, tilting your head to the side, watching him. He is fun to observe. 

“Not officially, call it… mother’s intuition.” 

“It can be wrong,” he is almost accusing you, and if you didn't know better, you swore you saw disappointment flood his eyes. Smiling softly, you nod. 

“It can be,” you admit. “You want a girl,” you observe gently, not accusing, but it is also not a question. Gapping to himself, you continue, grinning. “How many rooms?” 

“What?” His brain is still processing the fact that you are sure that you are having a girl, and realizing that yes, he does want a girl. Your grin just makes his eyes narrow.

“How many rooms in the home that we get?” 

“Houses are expensive-”

“You can afford it,” you tease. He snorts.

“Less to spend on the little one.” he teases back. You nod, contemplating, but you pause.

“Home is what you make it, Viktor… whether it is an apartment, or a house, it will be our home.” swallowing, you look down into your mug, wincing. “Home is the people you come back to- not the location that you live in.”  

Silence. 

“Minimum bedrooms would have to be two,” he states softly, tone almost tender. You nod, eyeing him playfully. 

“We would share?” you don't miss the twitch of his lips. 

“You didn't seem to be against sharing a bed with me once, I figured it wouldn't be quite eh… so bad.” at this, you laugh, nodding slightly. 

“Okay, do you have a place in mind?” Before Viktor can answer, another voice comes from behind you, startling you both- nearly leaping onto Viktor’s desk. 

“I found one,” Jayce is grinning, eyes shining with a sort of mirth you had previously only noticed in the quieter scientist. Hand resting over your chest, you huff, willing your heart to slow. 

“Jayce,” Viktor warns slowly, earning a sheepish grin from his best friend. 

“Sorry,” he chuckles, offering his hand to help you down from your half perch. “I was just excited.” laughing softly, you nod, taking his help down thankfully. “I can't wait to be an uncle.” 

“Uncle?” you tease, Viktor tries to hide his smile behind a rather forced reproachful look. 

“A title he has bestowed upon himself,” he muses, earning a half hearted fake offended look from Jayce. 

“I won't be?” Viktor pauses, but nods.

“I suppose having additional family can only be beneficial considering I have none to share,” he hums, looking at you. “And I unfortunately, am unaware of your family ties, as well.” shrugging a bit, your smile is weak.

“No family.” both pause. They had expected a parent at least. At this, Viktor nods, hand resting over yours gently. 

“Uncle it is,” he murmurs, going back to his notes. Jayce just about jumps out of his skin in excitement, bouncing around like an over excited golden retriever. “Though, Uncle's help set things up” at this you slap his hand with a snort. 

Passing the baton. 

As if reading your mind, he grins a bit, the rueful look enough to melt any slight agitation you had towards him. 

“I can not lift much myself, Dove.” he assures you. That tracks. Jayce is just nodding like a maniac, his head reminding you more of a bobblehead than that of a genius, his smile contagious as it splits his entire face.

“Anything you both need, just name it.” 

—

The walk is quiet, comfortable. You stay by Viktor’s side, matching his speed, using the opportunity to slow down, and have a good look around. The buildings here are a bit older, not shiny and new like those closer to the council building- the walls brown slightly with age, chipped paint curling in bluish spirals. Some of the houses are covered in vines, deep green stems swaying in the early afternoon breeze as Jayce paces before you both. 

Sighing, Viktor eyes you from his peripheral, gently nudging your foot with his cane as you pause to admire an overgrown rose bush. Humming softly, you look up at him slowly, pausing at how his eyes seem to melt in the sunlight, swirling like the honey whiskey your father used to drink. 

Janna, I hope our child has his eyes.

“Yes?” your voice is quiet, almost as if you're afraid to raise it in such a quiet area- breathless as you breath in the floral scents surrounding you. He softens visibly, shoulders slumping slightly as what you've come to realize is insecurity settles in his gaze. 

“Would you… would you not prefer to keep stride with Jayce?” he sounds unsure, eyes flicking to the ground, eyebrows pinching. “I do not wish to hold you back.” he startles a bit at your snort, the sound seeming to reverberate around you. 

“I prefer to keep pace with you,” you begin, straightening as you step before him, tilting his head with your finger to meet his eyes with a softness he's decided he can get used to. “I am not having a child with Jayce,” you laugh, running your thumb over the corner of his lips gently, noting the way his lips part slightly and the way he shivers slightly. “He can wait for us.” you conclude with a gentle squeeze of your fingers on his chin before dropping it. He just nods, flushing slightly. 

“Of course,” when you both turn back, Jayce is waiting patiently, hardly attempting to hide his smile at watching you both. 

“We’re almost there,” he assures you both, waiting for you to catch up without complaint. Nodding, you smile, fingers finding Viktor’s arm, trailing down to his wrist before giving a small squeeze without giving it much thought. When he looks at you, you are already looking at something else, your smile only growing as you come to recognize the area. You played here as a child. 

“I know it isn't much,” Jayce starts, coming to a stop before a house- tall but stable. There is dirt everywhere, something easily remedied. The windows are caked with dust and dirt, but at least they don't need replacing right away. Looking over it slowly, you turn to Jayce, smiling. He looks nervous, shifting from foot to foot. 

“How many rooms?” you ask gently, patting his arm as you slip past him to the door. He grins, handing over the key, allowing you to open it yourself as you shoulder in, covering your face to avoid the plumes of dust that fill the air once the door swings open.

“Three,” he offers, looking in over your shoulder, only moving once Viktor pokes him with his cane- a quiet reminder that he, too, is here to see the home. 

The walls are bare, a few spots where the sheetrock had been torn open- the ceiling caving slightly. You can see through to other rooms in some places. Dust coats everything, various older pieces of furniture pushed into various awkward positions clumsily covered with sheets. From the other side of the room, sun filters in through the wall of windows, illuminating the dust dancing in the air around you. 

You hum at the sensation of Viktor's hand wrapping around your hip, looking up at him happily. He is still looking around, but he seems content, his gaze wandering slowly until it meets your own. 

“There is much work to be done,” he observes, making Jayce look uncomfortable, opening his mouth to defend the space.

“Ill help-” he pauses at Viktor’s gaze, softer than he is used to, a smile on his face. 

“You’ll get your own study,” you offer, tugging on the bottom of his waist jacket gently. He chuckles, nodding. 

Jayce grins. “So can I start working on it now?” leaning forward slightly, you match his grin.

“Not alone,” Viktor raises an eyebrow. Scoffing, you swat his arm. “I won't push myself, nor will i do heavy lifting- but i can clean.” he nods.

“With proper safety precautions,” he agrees. Jayce laughs, clapping his hand down over his friend's shoulder. 

“Welcome home,” buzzing with excitement, you cling to Viktor’s arm, cheeks starting to sting from your smile. 

“Home.”

____

Arcane taglist:

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[writingmysanity]

Sanctuary Part Five

A/N" this one is a tad longer than the others- oops. Unbeta'd, as usual. As they say in my family "Weird hill to die on, but at least you're dead." xD

TW: ummmm jealously? sibling relationships

Word count: 3556

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Take the day

The note plastered to the lab door is left ambiguous, though, eyeing his best friend’s signature, he is all too aware that he is the intended target. He can almost feel the weight of Jayce’s hand on his shoulder from months ago, mandatory days off.

He had not enforced them.

He had not needed to, Viktor realized. 

His thoughts wander to you, striking him with an almost uncomfortable dull thud of his heart hitting his ribs by simple memories alone. The way you laugh, the way your smile falls on him, the way your eyes stay on him the moment you are aware of his presence and never seem to sway.

The attention is almost too much.

Almost. 

Tapping the sign with his finger, he smiles before turning away with a nod. Fine, a day off it is. He wanted to check on you anyway. You had barely begun to pull yourself together yesterday afternoon before council business had pulled you away, much to his chagrin.

Before he even realized where he was walking, he was already at the steps of the old council building, staring up at the brilliance of the blooms that had struck him the first time he visited- the scent almost dizzying, even part way through the summer, now. The once almost neon green vines darkening with the season, new leaves branching out to soak up as much of the sun as it can, greedily trying to encompass as much of the area as possible, speckled blooms wiggling through the stem. Petals seem to bend to his touch, lifting at his caresses as he runs his fingertips over them in passing. He could hardly even see the cracks of the foundation anymore, large elephant ears lifting nearly to that of the railings above, the hurling of tiny bodies passing in a blur at his approach with a simple squeak. 

Chuckling to himself, he glides up the rest of the stairs, finding himself in a much better state once he reaches the top than when he climbed them the first time. He isn't struggling to catch his breath anymore. Grinning at his own little milestone, he pauses to run his fingers over the carvings before pushing forward. The click of his cane echoes in the empty halls surrounding him, the murals seeming to whisper the sound back to him as he walks. 

It is still early, he half expects you to be running around, but you are nowhere to be seen. Humming, he notes the oddity, but assures himself that if you aren't yet moving about, that he will simply go back to his room and come back at a more appropriate time, like lunch.

Reaching the other set of double doors, he looks out, sighing happily at the familiarity he already seems to have with the place, the trees and the leaves seeming more of a home to him than his own lifeless room on most days. Leaning out of the doors, resting most of his weight onto his cane, he scans the area, hoping to find some sort of sign that you are indeed awake and running around somewhere. The sun is shining down, filtering through the canopy above glowing like torches as butterflies linger around the bushes resting at the base of the trees. Closing his eyes, he listens- nothing. 

Sighing, he nods to himself as he turns to leave- lunch time then. 

Just as he is stepping away, a squeal ringing out across the court yard catches his attention. nearly leaping through the open doors to make sure that you are okay, his eyes falling to the shadow of a figure standing at the halfway point between the building he is in, and the greenhouse, and subsequently your figure as you all but hurl yourself into his arms, laughter ringing out in the mess of the trees. 

His heart drops like lead as you are spun, watching as the smile gracing the man's lips grows as he places you down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Swallowing, he can't help the wince, nor the way his hands tremble, when you beam up at him, hands on his chest. He is taller than Viktor, he notices. But that isn't what catches his attention most- he is both able and healthy. 

Light headed, he sways, memories spinning around around him like a childs ride, making him nauseous. Shadows of bodies passing over your figure, hiding you from his sight. 

Laughter rings out around him as he sits on the edge of the pier, legs swaying in the breeze. One by one, children file past him, barely sparing him a glance. 

“Did you have fun?” his mother asks, well meaning, but she knows better. He just shrugs.

“No one played with me.” in true motherly fashion, she clicks her tongue, looking down at him with all the love someone could possibly muster for another.

“They missed out,” she assures him. Shaking his head, he stays off the tears.

“I can not run,” he mutters dejectedly. “Why would any of them include a cripple?” bitterness drips from his words, making her sigh.

“What of that girl? She sat with you a few times.” sadly, he shakes his head again. 

“She said that she couldn't anymore- her mother was afraid i am contagious.” this time she stops all together, fury burning behind her eyes. 

“I will talk to her,” shaking his head quickly, he wills the tears away.

“No,” he rasps, sniffling. “It will only make it worse.”

Struggling for breath, he fumbles back, shoulders hitting the door with a soft thump, his cane the only thing lifting him to keep him upright, tears clouding his vision no matter how much he wills them away, shaking his head. 

I should have known, he nearly snarls at himself. No one wants a poor cripple from the undercity. He thinks bitterly, anguish squeezing at his lungs, making it hard to breathe, head lulling to look at you both- laughing, chatting. The man seems enrapt in you, his arm wrapped around your shoulders lightly. 

Leave, his brain screams at him, but he can’t will his body to listen, eyes transfixed on you and he- Nyal, you called him. Why does the name sound familiar? Shaking his head, he shakes away his thoughts. He will come back later- tomorrow, give you time with… him. You deserve it, he can agree. He seems to be a good fit- able to keep up with your way of life. Flexing his fingers around his cane, he pushes himself up with effort, wincing at the creak of the door behind him, the sound catching your attention. 

Suspicion crosses Nyal’s face as he seems to place himself between the two of you on instinct. but you beam, your face lighting up once your eyes fall on him, his name falling from your lips with a happiness that he has always hoped was just for him. No, he chastises himself.

Caught before he is able to leave– shoulders turning to do so– you are already halfway across the arboretum, Nyal in tow- much to his chagrin. Taking a deep breath, he steadies himself before lifting himself to his feet properly, schooling his expression. As you get closer he allows himself a smile. No matter in which way you care for him, you still light up when you see him. He can live with that. If nothing else. 

Taking the stairs two at a time, you stop yourself from launching at him the same way you did Nyal, dropping his hand to find Viktor’s, hands wrapping around his arm excitedly, bright eyes melting in the sun, softening his expression further.

“Nym,” he hums, hand dropping to rest on your hip lightly to help stabilize you as you tilt backwards past him in your hurry, a childish grin over taking your features, giggling as you squeeze his arm in thanks. 

“Viktor,” you bounce, one hand flourishing towards Nyal  standing a few steps down and still nearly as tall as Viktor, eyeing him, lingering on his cane with a scoff. You glare at the man, nostrils flaring a bit before you turn back to viktor. “I want you to meet someone,” he nods, smiling down at you, natural in spite of how tight his chest is, and how it seems to squeeze tighter every moment your eyes fall on him with that all too familiar happiness dancing there. Just for him. 

“Of course,” shuffling the hand he holds his cane with, he extends his hand offering it to him, which he takes immediately. A single shake, and as Viktor is about to drop his hand, he winces, words dying on his lips as nyal forcefully squeezes his hand, eyes narrowing up at him. Huffing in agitation, you whack Nyal’s arm, glaring at him with a venom he's never seen before. 

“You stop that,” you nearly growl. “I wont have you being a jerk.” lifting his hands in defense, he huffs back at you, muttering under his breath, earning another whack from you. Whining a bit, he scrunches his nose up at you, almost pouting as you turn back to Viktor, looking apologetic. 

“I am so sorry,” you sigh, hand lifting to keep him from refuting the apology. “Little brother’s,” you offer, looking equally as exasperated and amused, realization washing over Viktor as shame settles in his chest, yet he smiles, a lightness in his tone that he didn't recognize. 

“A pain,” he offers, making you laugh and Nyal pouts. 

“I am right here, you know,” he huffs, shaking his head to hide his own smile. You just nod up at Viktor, grinning. 

“Always,” you hum, pushing against your brother’s shoulder, earning a chuckle from both men. “And late.” you state decidedly, eyeing him playfully. Nyal throws his hands up in the air, groaning. 

“A day late,” he exclaims, scrunching his nose at you. You huff, but soften. He had meant to be here yesterday, to mourn with you, to sit with you. Melting into Viktor’s side, you rest your head against his shoulder lightly, smiling when his fingers toy with the hem of your shirt lightly, careful not to touch your skin. 

“We are going to go for an early lunch, would you like to come with us?” you offer gently, frowning a bit when he shakes his head at first. 

“You should spend time with your brother,” he states, eyes flicking to nyal, a neutral look crossing his features as he watches you both. “You don't see him that often, I'll be here after.” he assures you. He watches you chew on the offer, sighing, your own words startled to a stop when nyal’s hand claps down on Viktor’s shoulder, shaking you both. 

“Come now,” he insists with a smile. “I owe you.” His tone is serious, nodding down at you both, softening when he meets your eyes. “You've been here for Nymmie” you groan at the nickname making them both laugh a bit. “Especially yesterday.” Considering it, Viktor nods slowly, smiling when you squeeze his arm happily. 

“Okay,” he hums, leaning against you for a moment, nudging your shoulder with his, his smile matching yours. “If you are sure.” 

—-

Laughter echoes around your office, the three of you pouring over your old chess board, eyeing it. Nyal and Viktor are on a team, trying their best to communicate quietly enough that you don't catch wind of their plans, both seeming frustrated that they do not yet know each other well enough to share silent cues. 

And yet, you are two moves ahead of them, taking yet another one of their pieces, snickering. 

“Come now boys,” you muse, head falling back in laughter. “I thought for sure that you both would have me beat.” you tease. Nyal huffs.

“Boasting is unbecoming of a young lady,” he gripes, glaring down at the pieces. Your laughter only seems to increase. 

“I was not raised a lady,” you snark back, raising an eyebrow. Viktor can't help the smile that tugs at his lips, shaking his head. Another move, another piece lost to you. 

“Check,” you sing, making them both grumble.

“I thought you were a genius!” Nyal acusess, narrowing his eyes at Viktor. Lifting his hands in defense, he glares down at the board, huffing. 

“I am a scientist, I invent things to make people's lives better! Do I look like I know how to read minds?” he scoffs. “I am no psychologist.” playfully glaring back at Nyal, Viktor points at him. “I thought your father taught you both how to play.” sighing, Nyal’s shoulders slump a bit.

“It was boring, okay? I could never pay attention long enough to finish a game.”

Tapping against the board, you don't even bother trying to hide your shit eating grin, eyes sparkling in the mid-afternoon sunlight.

“Boys,” you sing, leaning forward to eye them both with unrestricted glee. “It's your move.” motioning helplessly to Viktor, Nyal leans back, eyeing the board.

“Win this for us, Mr. Scientist,” groaning, Viktor looks over the board again. You had cornered them- there was nowhere to move, their queen sorely left in the open. Sighing, he resigns himself to your brother’s, albeit playful, frustration, and your gloating- he moves. Laughing again, you steal their queen, throwing your arms up in victory. 

“Three for three- pay up boys!” Nyal gaps at her.

“We aren't playing for money!” you just grin. 

“We're playing for food,” you state, rolling your eyes. Viktor eyes you, mulling over his choices.

“I will… take you to your favorite cafe- I am afraid that cooking is another one of my weak points.” Nyal nods.

“Same.” tapping your chin, you consider them both, tilting your head slightly. 

“I'll feed you,” you hum. “Today.” you nod, grinning at their relief.

“I can't believe you lost this for us,” Nyal sighs, gently shoving Viktor’s shoulder. 

“I cant believe youre worse than I am,” VIktor sasses, raising an eyebrow at him while you bounce to the back of the room to collect the food, setting plates before you all. Gapping at Viktor, pride shining in his eyes, he tries his best to pout up at you.

“He's mean to me,” snorting, you shake your head.

“You deserve it.” winking at Viktor, you take your seat next to him since you've had to add a chair, smiling up at him. He smiles back, shoulders relaxed. When he looks up, Nyal is watching you both, smiling slightly before shaking his head before bending to take a bite. The rest of lunch is quiet, sharing a few comments here and there- Nyal purposely pulling some embarrassing stories out to tell him, grinning at your blush. Attempting to kick Nyal under the table, you accidentally kick Viktor instead. Hissing a bit for a moment, you realize too late, eyes rounding out, comically large.

“Oh! I am so sorry, Vik,” blinking down at you, he nods, his smile soft. 

“I assume that was meant for Nyal then,” he muses, chuckling. You nod. 

“Pay back,” you grumble. He laughs. 

“Ah, well perhaps you will aim better next time.” 

There are a few moments of quiet while you collect the plates, moving back to stand by Viktor, shifting on your feet.

“Do you have much more time?” you ask gently, recognizing that he has spent much longer with you than he normally would. Taking a moment to comprehend, he just nods, softening. 

“Yes,” he assures you. “I have no other obligations today.” frowning, you tilt your head, your hair falling in your face a bit. 

“Jayce?” he just shakes his head, ignoring the way your brother leans against the door, watching. 

“I took the day off- eh, I was not needed.” you snort,

“You’re always needed, Viktor.” raising an eyebrow at him, you sit, eyeing him. “Progress never sleeps.” you quote, making him laugh. 

“Ah yes, so they say,” he nods, leaning back. “But I have decided to use one of my mandatory days off.” you glare away at your brother's look, the wiggle of his eyebrows and his all too excited knowing smile. 

“So… you’re-” 

“Free?” he states with a smile. “Yes. I am yours, Miss Nym.” he can't help the warmth that fills his chest when you beam up at him, eyes trained only on him. Like he is your sunlight. 

“Stay?” you ask meekly, eyes flicking between him and your brother. Your brother just shrugs a bit, coughing to hide his smile muttering something under his breath that only you caught, eyes narrowing at him. Viktor just nods, thumb brushing over your wrist lightly. 

“Of course.”

—-

The rest of the day went fairly smoothly, you all three joked– Nyal in the back ground mimicking the way you react to Viktor, exaggerating your motions, pretending to faint when his back is turned from you both– expertly wiggling his eyebrows over Viktor’s shoulder when he is too preoccupied with you to notice. 

He gets kicked twice- and this time… you don't miss. 

You spend most of the time giving your brother the tour– the green house, the arboretum, and the council building, hand flicking towards the stairs. 

“The rooms are up there, so whenever you are done for the night.” he just nods, but Viktor's eyes follow your motion up the stairs, eyebrows furrowed.

“You stay in this building?” you just nod.

“Where did you think I stayed?” he shrugged. 

“I did not think about it, to be honest. I figured you were afforded an apartment– like most of the other staff here at the academy.” grinning slightly, you nod. 

“I have been. Mel gave me complete access to this whole building, all to myself. There are several accommodations in the building and I get blissful peace.`` Both men laugh a bit, nodding. It made sense. 

“Alright,” Nyal calls a bit louder than he meant, all of you wincing at how his voice carried- echoing back at you all rather harshly. “I think i will retire for the night” you nod, stepping up to hug him tightly. 

“If you need anything,” you promise, he nods, muttering against your hair. 

“I need you to seal the deal already,” he snorts, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before starting for the stairs but not before sending a very clear look from you to Viktor with a motion of the hand hurry up.

Halfway up the stairs, he shares the same look with Viktor, eyes flitting between him and you, who is already headed back outside. Raising an eyebrow, he nods to his sister, nudging his head towards you, raising an eyebrow. Go. as you turn around with a smile, tilting your head, a silent invitation to follow. 

Swallowing, Viktor nods, trailing after you, stealing another glance up the stairs towards your brother. He was already gone. 

When he makes it to the doors, you are already seated on your bench, looking out over the sky, smiling softly, eyes nearly closed. Quietly, he shuffles over, sliding in next to you. 

“What is on your mind?” blinking up at him, you shuffle closer, leaning your head against his shoulder, watching as the last of the sun starts to drop below the horizon.

“You were jealous,” you state, grinning. It isnt an accusation, it is a fact. One you had seen written allover his face when you spotted him before he had been able to steel his emotions. Looking up at him, he watches you, gapping a bit- unable to find the words to dispute your claim when his brain stalls with the way the sunset makes your eyes glitter like the night sky.

“I dont know what you’re talking about.” he huffs finally, looking away to keep from staring. Snorting, you resist the urge to roll your eyes. 

“How long?” you hum, nudging your shoulder against his. Looking down at you, he adjusts his posture, your head now resting against his upper arm instead of his shoulder as he raises an eyebrow at you. 

“I am sure I don't know what you are referring to.” laughing, you grip his arm gently, squeezing. 

“How long were you standing there?” you ask, tilting your head up, catching his eyes again. “Before I noticed you.” he pauses, shifting in his seat, sighing. 

“Long enough.” he states quietly, looking down at his lap. 

“Long enough for what?” you ask pointedly, trying to coax it out of him, freezing as his fingers start to gently trail over your wrist wrapped around his arm, eyes narrowed in contemplation. 

“To get jealous,” he says finally, after a few moments of silence, wincing preemptively- expecting more laughter, or even some teasing jesting. He almost jumps when you nuzzle into his arm, fingers moving to meet his. They barely brush but it is enough to make his heart flutter.

“You have no need to be,” you promise against his arm, your voice muffled by his shirt. Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes, slumping into your body, pressing his forehead to the crown of your head, releasing the breath slowly, nodding slightly.

 “Okay,” his voice is soft, filled with emotions- a shiver running through you. You nod gently, eyes closing slowly in bliss. 

“Okay,” you breathe, basking in the last of the afternoon sun together.

____

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[writingmysanity]

Okay

A/N: Firstly, thank you @sherwood-forests for reading over this piece! You are gods sent. secondly, @thehistoriangirl here is your background xD

TW: illness mentioned, pregnancy

Word count: 2767

“The results are in,” the doctor’s voice chimes from the door, alerting you of her presence. Twisting your body slowly, you frown at the look on her face, hands resting in your lap. You feel as if the air around you still as she confirms what you’ve dreaded. 

Your footsteps echo around you, skittering along the expanse of the abandoned hall. Where bodies had been hurriedly pressing passed you to get where they were going just minutes ago, there is no one. Left alone with your thoughts your arms wrap around your middle, as if the glue that can hold you together. 

Glittering chandeliers sway above, music making the crystals hanging from their ornate arms shake, miniature rays of light bouncing around you, lighting up the room spectacularly. Glancing around, you can't help but stare- ornate bodies twirling around the floor, jewels refracting the light from the crystals above. Wait staff swirl by, one bowing to you slightly, offering a flute of champagne. You take it gently, offering a smile in thanks. 

They smile back before disappearing into the crowds. 

Turning quickly, you muffle your yelp as you very nearly knock right into another chest, very nearly knocking his own flute from his hands. He seems just as surprised as you, but recovers quickly, offering you a weak, but kind smile. 

“My apologies,” you strain to hear him, his accent softening his words. You just nod quickly. “I should have been paying closer attention.” opening your mouth to refute his claim that he was the one in the wrong, he merely lifts his other hand, cane coming with it for a moment, the motion clear. 

Instead, you offer him your name. At this, he smiles, crooked and unguarded, nose crinkling at the motion. Setting his flute to the side, he offers you his hand. 

“Viktor.”

Dim lights flicker above your head, casting random shadows over the sporadic placements of potted plants along the lines, the only living things keeping you company on your way. Cursing yourself, you look around, glancing at the numbers on the doors.

Are you even going the right way? Huffing, you shake the thoughts away, fighting the emotions welling up. Biting your lip so that it can't tremble, you push on, counting the doors like you had that night. 

298. Second hallway, fifth door to your left.

One…

Two…

Five…

Circled by empty flutes, you lean against the table, flush against its flat top, cheek squished to it with a giggle, eyes half lidded. Viktor looms over you, amusement as clear on his face as the flush, his cheeks warm. You like the pink, you find. Grinning up at him, you sit up some, allowing him a view down the front of your dress, unobstructed. 

He startles to a stop, eyes falling down the expanse of your skin, tongue darting out to wet his lips before forcing his eyes back to yours, trying his best to be a gentleman- you are not making it an easy task. Humming, you tap his hand lightly with your finger, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Want to run?” you grin, lips curling mischievously, matching the glint in his eye. 

“And where will we go?” he muses, tilting his head to regard you better. You shrug.

“I don't care, as long as it's you.” you had only just met, but you know you were telling the truth- a byproduct of your drinking- it made you honest. You realized, you would probably follow him wherever he asked, as long as his fingers kept trailing your skin, and his eyes stayed on you.

“My…” he hesitates, swallowing before continuing, pursing his lips before a rough release of air unpuckers them. “My apartment is not far” he manages, watching you keenly, as if waiting for you to retract your offer, teasing him relentlessly about having been caught- this was a joke. When you only smile, your fingers finding his with a nod, he relaxes.

“Okay.” 

Skittering to a stop, you eye the number on the door before you. 

298.

Unsure of what to do, you stare at the door for a moment. You can still feel it, the chill of the door on your back as he presses you into it, his feverish lips on yours as he struggles to unlock the door without breaking the kiss. His groan when you arch your body into his. 

Shaking your head, trying to knock the memory away, you lift your hand slowly. You're not even sure when you knocked- you didn't feel the wood against your hand- but the sound reverberated around you loudly, making you wince. 

Once the echoes subside, you are surrounded once more with silence. You sit in it for 30 seconds more, bouncing anxiously on the balls of your feet, hugging yourself. Eventually, the silence becomes unnerving- obviously he is either not home or asleep- you were foolish for coming. You chastised yourself as you turned.

He's a big important scientist, obviously he has more important things. 

Your own thoughts make you freeze, midway down the hall as you soften. But he still deserves to know. You are about to start back towards your own room again when the lock slides, the sound slamming against the walls, startling you. Stopping, staring at his lithe body hunched over his cane as it leans out of his door, you can't find it in you to move. His eyes sweep around before landing on you, brows furrowed in confusion. He is just as beautiful as he was that night, but he looks paler, the bags under his eyes purplish, as if he has had trouble sleeping, his hair tousled.

When you don't move, he steps out, calling your name gently, the sound breaking you from your thoughts. “What is wrong?” The concern in his voice breaks your resolve, lip trembling- all of your practiced words dying in your throat. 

I’m sorry

You don't have to be involved. 

He is still waiting, taking several paced steps towards you, patient. You can't help it, the way it blurts out, the words leaving your lips before you can stop them.

“I'm pregnant,” he freezes, eyes widening almost comically, his hand left lingering in the air where he had been reaching for you, about to offer comfort. “It’s yours,” you choke on the words, clawing back the sob threatening to spill from your chest. He doesn't move, staring down at you in shock. 

“It… can be no one else?” His voice is soft, but distant, giving you no indication of how he is feeling. You shake your head, swallowing. 

“No,” he just nods. When he doesn't move, doesn't say anything else, you continue. You're shocked you are still standing from the way your legs tremble, threatening to give way at the slightest provocation. 

“I… just wanted you to know,” you begin. “I have zero expectations of you, Viktor.” Your voice is quiet, rushed. “You don't have to be a part of any of this- I just felt you had the right to know.” you backup a step, watching him closely. His eyes are stuck on you, grabbing his cane hard enough you're sure he will break it, but he doesn't move towards you. 

Taking that as your answer, you turn on your heel and head back to your own apartment. Your walk turns to a jog, then to a sprint when you hear him choke on your name, the tears that had been threatening to fall finally spring forth clouding your way back. 

Once back behind closed doors, the rest of the dam breaks. Back pressed to the door, you sob, shoulders shaking as your chin hits your chest, everything hitting you at once. Sliding slowly down the door, you bury your face in your knees, hands gripping at your hair as you wail into the fabric of your stockings. You don't pay attention to the way your tears mix with your makeup and stains them beyond repair. You cry until you cant anymore, the sounds reducing themselves to a whimper, curled up on your side head tucked to your knees as you cradle your stomach. 

Still trembling, you stroke your stomach, a watery smile slides across your face, hiccuping. 

“I'll never leave you, little one.” you promise. “Even if it's just you and me, you will never be alone.”

Laying there, collecting yourself, you sniffle, tears coming and going- but you are too exhausted to try and move, the only indication of the time being the way the light filtering in from your windows shifts as the day moves along. Light turns to shadows before the patter of rain echoes out in the silent apartment. Wiping at your eyes a final time, you push up slowly, wincing at how your body aches from lying on the floor for several hours, stomach aching even more, the snarl of it the only noise in the room. Huffing a laugh, you shake your head. 

“I suppose I will have to be better about self care,” you mutter, about to step towards the kitchen when a knock sounds at the door, nearly jumping out of your skin at the abruptness after spending so long only listening to your thoughts. You hesitate, unsure if you are wanting to open it- you've very few friends given your job. Being Counselor Mel’s assistant leaves little time for a social life. 

Electing to ignore it, you turn back towards the kitchen until you hear your name followed by a gentle thud.

“Please,” Viktor’s voice bleeds through the door once more, tight- thick. “Please… open the door.” hesitating, you turn towards the door slowly, the sound of the latch sliding louder than you expected- but somehow only slightly louder than the thunder of the blood rushing against your ear drums. You only creak the door open slightly at first, eyeing him through the crack. 

His forehead is pressed against the door, hand resting in a fist above his head. Feeling the movement of the door, he peeks out at you, golden irises brilliant with the circling of the darkened bags resting under his eyes. The mouth that had given you so much pleasure- from the way it felt on your skin to the way his nose crinkled when he smiled- is a hard line as he worries at his lip. He looks paler than before, the bags worse, as if it's been days instead of hours. His normally neat hair tugged and pulled at, sticky spikes dampened by the rain, baby hairs sticking to his forehead, along with all of his clothes. You realize suddenly that he is drenched, his whole body trembling, the word escaping his lips making you shiver at the depth of emotion behind it, eyes watering. Please. 

In spite of yourself, you open the door more, hand reaching out to steady him as his bad leg gives out slightly, leaning his weight on you for a moment before he is able to regain his composure, following you inside, letting the door swing shut behind him. Silence envelopes you both, all traces of hunger gone as you move to get him a towel, handing it out to him awkwardly. His movements are slow, calculated… frigid as he begins to dry himself off the best he can, ruffling his hair with a whisper.

“Thank you,” you just nod, not trusting your voice. Slowly, he stops, settled on the edge of your couch as he looks up at you, eyes wide. He's scared, you realize, before kneeling before him slowly, but maintain your distance, guarding your heart. 

“What…” you pause, licking your lips. You flinch when his hand comes to gently trace along your cheek, the puffy, raw skin sensitive to his chill. You're sure you're a sight to see, red and raw from crying, makeup smeared across your face- you're sure your hair is a mess, as well. “What are you doing here, Viktor?” it comes out with more venom than you mean for, startling him, but he doesn't shrink away- just looks down at his other hand slowly, still curled into a ball. Shifting, you stare at it too, gawking when he unfurls his fingers to reveal a ring. It's pretty, silver with a brilliant green stone you don't recognize. 

“It…” taking a deep breath, he turns to look at you, meeting your eyes and he rolls the ring across his finger tips before lifting it to you slightly. “It was my mother’s” you freeze, staring at the ring in his hand, breathing shallowly. He takes it as an opportunity to continue. “I… I would have come to you quicker, but I couldn't find it quickly enough.” frustration bleeds into his tone, earning your gaze back. As soon as it hits you, you’re shaking your head.

“No… no!” pushing yourself back, pacing in front of the couch, running your fingers through your tangled hair. “You… Marriage… you don't want to marry me, Vik,” you pause to look at him, desperation evident in your face. “I refuse to marry simply because I am pregnant.” his face twists, hand twitching around the ring. “We don't have to be married for you to be involved” you try to reason, waiting, begging for him to say something. When you stop talking, he takes it as his turn. Looking down at the ring, he frowns, a tired sigh pushing past his lips, your name coming out quietly. 

“I am sick,” he confesses, so soft you almost don't hear it, but it makes you freeze in your tracks, staring at him from across the room. “I do not… I do not have much time- according to the doctors.” now he looks at you- anger, anxiety, fear all simmering there, his brilliant golden eyes boring into you, burning you like sunburn. “I know that… marrying a cripple from the undercity is most probably not your idea of an ideal union..” At that, you break out of your stupor, marching up to him, fingers wrapping around his chin as you tug it up, forcing him to look up at you, anger simmering in your eyes- an anger he doesnt recognize nor understand.

“Merely a cripple from the undercity, are you?” he winces at your tone, clipped, rough. “You are many things, Viktor- crippled? Sure. but you are also stunning, brilliant, a complete gentleman. I refuse to allow you to speak lowly of yourself, not in my presence.” eyes tacked to yours, he doesn't try to move, any motion of his head restricted by your hand. Instead, he reaches up, fingers wrapping around your wrist, squeezing gently, tears welling up, his lip quivering just slightly.

“Please,” he pleads again. “Let me care for you, for you both the only way I can. I am not strong, I am not… built for a family- my life revolves around my work.” shaking your head, you pull back, sighing. 

“And how will this be caring for us, Vik?” he sighs, laying his head against your stomach, nosing there gently, your hands resting hesitantly on the back of his head, stroking down slowly trying to calm him. Shuddering at the contact, his hand comes up to rest over yours as the other wraps around your middle, holding you there.

“When I am… gone…” he settles, mumbling against your stomach. “You will be provided for, still. Jayce has assured me of that. Allow me to do what I can to make sure you and my child are cared for after I am no longer here to see to it myself.” The silence stretches around you both, just resting there as he holds you. It's dizzying, dealing with the whirlwind of what your day has become- the idea that you will have a baby with this gentle man, kind and smart… and you're not even sure how long you will be able to keep him in your child's life. 

“Are you sure?” you ask slowly, unsure. “I don't want you to feel you have to.” he just nods against your stomach, the motion lifting your shirt just slightly, just enough for his fingers to brush the skin there. 

“Yes,” his voice is quiet, but absolute. Slowly, he looks up at you, gentle eyes molten over your skin, pressing a gentle kiss to your sternum, fingers running over your stomach where it will inevitably swell in months to come. Swallowing, you squeeze his hand gently where it rests on his neck, eyes pinched closed to keep another round of tears from springing up, warmth blooming in your chest, your voice thick as you nod.

“Okay.” 

----

Arcane taglist:

@grumpyoutlaw @thehistoriangirl @rainbowpitofdoom @wizarrdofooze @uniquedeerwitch @ace-of-zaun @aerynwrites @queenxxxsupreme @beeblybub @ears-queers-gears-n-fears @just-an-adventurer  

If you would like to be added to the tag list, please send me a message or ask or something.

[writingmysanity]

Notes

A/N: papa!vik x reader- but this is while reader is pregnant. i have an idea about how this is going to go... ish. please bare with me. i need the soft.

Word count: 582

The sun had long since shifted below the horizon, the gentle buzz of insects singing into the night- the ambiance they create normally able to help sooth you to sleep, but you can't seem to get comfortable on the bed. 

For one, it isn't yours- or you should say, it is now. 

For two, you realize, it is hard to relax and sleep with the swell of your stomach. Normally a belly sleeper, you have been forced to your sides. Viktor had tried to help, the sweetheart he is, but nothing seemed to work. 

Pushing yourself up, you grab your pillow and a blanket, dragging them into the living room behind you, feeling very much like a child trying to sway mom and dad into letting you sleep with them. Coffee table covered in blue prints and various pages of notes, you find Viktor well enough engrossed that he doesn't notice you right away, leaning over off of the couch looking none too comfortable. His leg must ache.

Shuffling forward, you offer a sheepish smile, the action not meeting your eyes. You feel small under the scrutiny of his eyes once they fall on you- like an experiment he can't quite figure out. Sighing, he sits up, rolling his shoulders. 

“Can not sleep?” shaking your head, you shuffle closer, hopefully. 

“Can… Can I lay on the couch behind you?” your voice is barely above a whisper, worrying at your lip. You are both getting used to one another- practically strangers- but he nods, shifting. 

“I still have work,” he grumbles watching you brighten, tugging your blanket behind you. His eyes follow you in quietly concealed amusement. Settling behind him, you cuddle up into the pillow, allowing it to rest on his back for added support, but you are careful to not touch him yourself, sighing blissfully as the cushions seem to wrap around you. 

“Can you…” humming unsure, you stare at his back, watching him twist slightly to look down at you, eyebrow quirked, waiting. “Can you talk out loud? What you're working on.” eyebrows shooting up, he regards you, huffing out a laugh.

“Boring enough to lull you to sleep, eh?” sitting up rather abruptly, you wince, hand cradling your stomach, eyes wide. 

“No… no, it isn't that,” you assure him, your frantic tone startling him. He was teasing- perhaps he was… too dry. He offers you a soft smile, hand resting over yours on your stomach. “It's just… I really like your voice…” your voice tapers off, voice getting smaller with each word, refusing to match his eyes. Blinking, he turns towards you more.

“You… do?” you just nod, glancing up at him slightly through your lashes. 

“Yeah,” you mumble, sighing. “If it's weird, VIktor… you don't have to- really.” he shakes his head quickly, hair swishing around his head, pieces slapping against his face. 

“Okay.”

“I eh have just never been told such a thing before,” he admits, shrugging sheepishly. Softening, you brace your hand over his, rubbing your thumb there lightly for a moment before he pulls away, motioning for you to lay down.

“Lie,” his voice is soft, accent thick with an emotion you aren't able to pinpoint, and at this point, your sleep deprived brain wouldn't be able to hang onto the meaning for long, even if you figured it out. “I will… go over my notes if that is okay?” smiling, you settle back into the cushions, nuzzling the pillow gently, eyes trained on him.

___

Arcane taglist:

@grumpyoutlaw @thehistoriangirl @rainbowpitofdoom @wizarrdofooze @uniquedeerwitch @ace-of-zaun @aerynwrites @queenxxxsupreme @beeblybub @ears-queers-gears-n-fears @just-an-adventurer  

If you would like to be added to the tag list, please send me a message or ask or something.

[writingmysanity]

Morning Routines

Pairing: Viktor x reader (Aryn baby)

Word count: 615

TW: none, just sweet fluff

A/N: This little... family scenario has stuck with me. I can't shake it right now, and while you all seem to enjoy it, it has single handedly pulled me out of a depressive episode I've been struggling with for a few weeks. For that, I think it's worth all of the random little bits.

Tap tap tap

Viktor shifts in bed, sighing as he tugs the blankets up over his head, blocking out the sunlight filtering through the window above your bed.

Tap tap tap

Huffing, he rolls over, curling up more, trying to ignore the insistent tapping on his cheek and now his arm. But it keeps coming. Grouching, he pushes the blankets down a bit more forcefully than he intended- it isn't often he manages to sleep well, he would like to continue. 

“My dove,” his voice is almost ground out, like he is trying to contain his frustration, eyes still squeezed shut in hopes that he would be able to convince you to allow him another hour more. The squeal above him breaks him, eyes flying open just as Aryn stumbles, just about toppling over his body, lurching forward to catch her just as she begins to fall.

“Little one,” he sighs, tugging her up into his arms, trying his best to look stern, but the facade melts away the moment her smile is directed at him, her little hands coming up to clasp over his cheeks. 

“Papa!” any agitation he held left melts away from his shoulders, leaning into her hold with a tender smile, sighing happily. 

“Good morning, baby duck,” he muses, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead as she cuddles into his chest, turning in his arms so that she can tilt her head up to watch him, his own eyes staring back up at him, paired with her mothers smile. 

“Duck?” She mimics, mouth moving slowly, as if tasting the word, smiling slowly. “Duck!” nodding a bit, he shifts backwards, bringing her with him, cuddling her into his side, nuzzling into her hair sighing happily. 

“Yes, very good,” he praises, watching her beam, gently booping her nose, making her giggle. When he looks up, you are leaning against the doorframe, eyes crinkled behind your smile, watching them. Slowly, once noticed, you make your way over to them, crawling up onto the bed, snuggling into Aryn’s other side, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head before reaching up, seeking a kiss with a small pout. Chuckling, he bridged the gap, hand coming up to rest on your cheek gently, parting moments later, nose playfully bumping into yours, earning a giggle. 

“Good morning,” you breathe, eyes still mostly closed, happiness glowing on your skin in the early morning light. Knocking his forehead to yours, he sighs, the sound blissful. 

“Good morning, Dove,” he hums. “Did you rest  well?” you nod quickly, moving to nuzzle your nose into his hair. 

“Yeah,” your voice soft, airy, as if afraid to break the moment. “I made breakfast?” trying to pretend to be serious, he narrows his eyes at you, nose crinkling, doing little to hide his elation in the moment. 

“Now, Now, my love,” he hums. “When I… agreed to this marriage arrangement, I thought we were on the same page.” trying his best to sound reproachful, thumb rubbing patterns on your wrist gently. “That you understood me when I said I didn't wake up before,” he pauses, contemplating the most ridiculous time he could come up with to wake up for the day, as a parent. “6 PM.”

Snorting at his gentle teasing, you roll over slightly, tugging at Aryn’s arm, sharing a look with her that has her throwing herself in her arms immediately, lets get papa up. 

“I made hash browns,” you sing, Aryn bounces in your arms excitedly, laughing at her delighted screech. Laughing, Viktor rolls his shoulders before pushing the blankets off of him, sleeping all but forgotten about. 

“I will be there in just a moment.”

-----

Arcane taglist:

@grumpyoutlaw @thehistoriangirl @rainbowpitofdoom @wizarrdofooze @uniquedeerwitch @ace-of-zaun @aerynwrites @queenxxxsupreme @beeblybub @ears-queers-gears-n-fears  

If you would like to be added to the tag list, please send me a message or ask or something.

[writingmysanity]

Domestic

Because @grumpyoutlaw has zero shame and while it's not totally explicit... yet, you're killing me here my friend. You're going to make me end up writing NSFW for the first time in 8 years.

Pairing: Viktor x Reader

Word count: 474

Sighing happily, you scrub at your skin with your towel, stretching the muscles in your back slowly as you lean over to wrap up your hair. Steam is still clouding the mirrors so you just wrap another towel around you before padding out into the room. 

As if sensing your presence, Aryn starts babbling at you loudly from the living room, eyes locked on you excitedly, lifting herself to her knees, rocking back and forth before jutting her arm and leg out simultaneously, attempting to crawl towards you. Cooing down at her, you giggle, scooping her up, tickling her stomach. Squealing in laughter, she kicks a bit, bright eyes trained on you as you make your way towards the kitchen. 

“Lunch is almost done,” VIktor calls to you gently, his back to you. Humming an affirmative, you slide her into her high chair, booping her nose, earning a brilliant grin as she slaps her hands down onto the tray in front of her. Laughing softly, you sneak up behind Viktor, watching him move about the kitchen. He hasn't noticed your presence quite yet, shifting around quietly, gracefully- no matter what he grumbled about being less than graceful with his cane. 

Grinning to yourself, you tip toe up behind him, lifting yourself up as high as you can go, hand settling on the counter in front of him, catching his attention enough to make him freeze.

“Dov-?” shushing him, you press your lips to the back of his neck slowly, tongue flicking out to trail where you've kissed before nipping the skin gently. His breath sputters to a stop, hands clenching the sides of the counter as his head falls back towards you at your ministrations- eyes lidded, mouth slack. 

“Domestic life suits you, Vik,” you hum against his skin, nosing at his pulse point, nipping at the junction of his neck, earning a breathy agreement, honey eyes zoning in on you.

“Aryn,” he grumbles a bit, you smile. 

“Well, perhaps you'll get her to sleep for her nap here pretty quickly, hm?” spinning around to face you, he looks you up and down, pupils blown.

“That's my towel,” it's meant to be reproachful, but comes out breathy, fingers curling around his cane a little tighter. Grinning, you lean forward to press a kiss to the mole right above his lip, tongue darting out to the corner of his lips, humming when he chases your lips, eyes lidded. 

“You'll have to take it back,” you assure him, stepping back, watching as his body automatically shifts to follow you until Aryn squeals at her place at the table, demanding her food. 

“Tik Tok,” you sing, sliding back towards the room, clicking your tongue. Groaning, he moves towards his little girl, eyeing her.

“Come now, little one,” he huffs. “Let's eat and go to sleep… for papa.”

----

Arcane taglist:

@grumpyoutlaw @thehistoriangirl @rainbowpitofdoom @wizarrdofooze @uniquedeerwitch @ace-of-zaun @aerynwrites @queenxxxsupreme @beeblybub @ears-queers-gears-n-fears  

If you would like to be added to the tag list, please send me a message or ask or something.