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angelltheninth · 15 days ago

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When Arcane Men Get Jealous

Pairing: Viktor, Jayce, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Finn, Marcus, Loris, Steb x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, jealousy, possessive behavior, being protective, kissing in public, biting, holding hands, public display of affection, canon typical violence, suggestive

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A/N: Would die if they were jealous over me. Melt into a puddle. Gone.

When Viktor gets jealous he gets a bit more withdrawn than he usually is. Not that he was ever a social butterfly, however he was always more open and happy to talk when it was with you. So his behavior is odd, he even seems to get quieter whenever you walk into the room. Like he's trying to remove himself from you with silence.

"I am not avoiding you. Look, there has been a lot to do for the past week, I'm sorry if you got a bad impression but I was simply busy. If you want more company, go ask Jayce, or Skye, I'm sure they will be more than happy to entertain you, darling."

Viktor is short with his answers, saying as little as possible to minimize the amount of time he spends talking to you. Not because he doesn't want to talk to you, he loves talking to you, but if he keeps talking there's a chance he might say something he's going to regret. And end up hurting you.

"There you go again with these ridiculous accusations. You won't leave it alone will you? So now it's my fault that your project is running late? I would have been happy to help but someone was too busy talking with... you know what, nevermind. You're right, we both have a lot to do, so let's just drop this conversation and focus on work."

If you keep getting in the way of his work, Viktor will eventually come to a breaking point. Him not being able to work is only adding to his emotions, and he's never been the best at dealing with them. While he doesn't exactly yell at you, it's very rare that he ever raises his voice there's a notable frustration in his words, and pain, fear that you'd leave.

"If I'm being so unreasonable then leave. Go. Have fun. I know it's not idea to be cooped up in the lab all the time. There are so many more things to do out there. if you... want to go with other people I suppose I can't stop you, nor can I stop my own jealousy. How am I being even more unreasonable? I know you wouldn't leave me without talking about it. Look... I do not... want you to leave, working is more fun with you. But am I truly all that you want? Me? This lab? Because you're all I want. All that I can think of."

When Jayce gets jealous he keeps invading your personal space when you're around the person or people he's jealous of. His behavior is nothing innapropriate or pushy. It's just his arm around your waist, just him bringing you that drink you wanted, just him bragging about you a bit too loud and saying how much he loves you.

"You really are great, babe. How in Runterra did I ever find a beauty like you huh? What's that bashfulness for now, I always praise you, and I'm never gonna stop. You're my girl right? I can be a proud boyfriend and talk you up every once in a while."

Physical affection a big deal to Jayce and a way he shows he cares but also a giveaway to his jealousy. He holds your hand longer, his eyes flicker between you and the one he's jealous off, his smile is a bit more nervous when he has to leave you alone. Then there are his kisses, not as gentle, not a little, quick peck on the edge of your lips but a real kiss, lips pressed against yours until you let him know you need air.

"Got a bit carried away there. Ah, sorry, I can't resist you sometimes. All the time. Do you expect me to when you wear lipstick like that? Makes your lips look like they're made to be kissed. By me specifically. I'd kiss you all night long, for the rest of our lives and never get tired of it."

Jayce keeps denying that he's jealous when you bring it up in a teasing way. Logically there's no reason to get jealous, everyone knows your relationship is doing great, in fact you're hardly ever fighting and even when you are it doesn't last too long. How does he turn that part of his brain off? How can he not get jealous when all those people look at you the way he looks at you?

"They're always looking at you. How can you not notice? It's so obvious. You don't notice because... you're only looking at me? That doesn't even make sense! Of course they're looking, you're breathtaking everywhere you go. I just hope that wherever you go, you'll always take me with you, because I want to be by your side forever."

Ekko often jokes about being jealous so you don't pick up on him actually being jealous. A little jealousy is fine but not when it's getting in the way of his missions and operations with his team. He'd been a bit distracted in the past, by one of the Firelights flying too close to you, so he pushed his way between you two.

"It was the formation! Which you would have remembered if you weren't too busy chatting. Come on, Firefly, get your head in this. Otherwise you're gonna make your leader jealous. Wouldn't want that right? What if... what if you get demoted for it? Hey! Ow! I wouldn't demote you, who would listen to all my plans?"

When you have free time together Ekko makes sure to spend as much time with you as possible. If you're together all the time there's less chance that someone else will swoop in and flirt with you. He would never describe his behavior as being clingy, all he wants is to spend free time with his girlfriend. That is perfectly normal behavior.

"What do you say we go out to get some food? We don't have to spend all our time here. Not like the tree is gonna burn down if we're away for a couple of hours right? Besides it's been a while since it was just you and me all alone. Miss being alone with you. Don't you miss it too?"

If the person he's jealous of ever puts you in danger in any way Ekko will go off on them. Harder than he scolded others in the past. He might let some of his jealousy show then, but he storms off, well flies off before you can talk to him. As much as he wants to be alone he also makes room for you on his hoverboard when you float down next to him.

"Shouldn't have went off on them like that. I know, you don't gotta say it, I'll say I'm sorry. Let cool off a bit. You'd think that if they were flirting with you that much they could have been looking out a bit better. I'm always looking out for you. Maybe a bit too much. Sorry if I've been weird about it lately. Would you forgive me if I took you on a romantic hoverboard ride?"

No one wants to piss off a big man like Vander by flirting with his wife. Everyone values their life and their bones too much. But... they stare at you. Quite openly actually. You see it, and you bet he sees it too. He sees everything that's happening at his bar and he won't stand for someone ogling his wife, even if he has to get aggressive about it.

"It's my damn bar, I've got the right to break the table with their heads when they're looking at ya like that. Tell ya what, a lot more people would avoid this place if I started beating up every asshole that looks at ya wrong. Only reason I don't is cause I don't want ya to be mad at me after."

He hasn't banned anyone from his bar in a very long time. Vander knows he tolerates a lot, this is Zaun, and some people don't have the best manners, that's not exactly their fault. But on the other hand if they start something with him then he will finish it. When he tells them to stop looking at you like you like you were one of Babette's workers and they get in his face he will pick them up and throw them out.

"Bastards had it coming. I tried to be nice, then they had to go and call ya names. Ain't no way in hell I'm gonna let anyone insult my wife. Not here, not on the streets, not anywhere. I went there and I wanted to talk to them, tell them to fuck the hell off, they were the ones who started getting violent. So I responded in kind."

Vander calls you over to the bar a bit more often if he sees a particular table is trying to monopolize you. He carries some of the drinks over, the food plates too, or he simply walks up behind you when one of the guys is getting flirty. Seeing his imposing, huge frame behind you, his muscles bulging, is enough to get most to back off you.

"See, darlin', I can talk things out just fine. When people are being smart about it that is. Might have to stop selling so much booze in this place, then they won't be so bold with ya. Ya are a pretty sight, I can't say otherwise. But ya are a pretty sight for me, not them, ain't that right? Mhm. I know, I'm all yer's too."

Silco never ever says he's jealous of anyone. He is the most powerful man in all of Zaun, everyone is scared of him and with good reason. As the Eye of Zaun he knows when people are looking, talking too, and might even try to touch you. Those people are often payed a not so nice visit by his men.

"I did hear about that gang, yes. It's very unfortunate that they don't know how to keep their noses where they don't belong. It's not that big of a loss on our end. There are a hundred people who can do their work, and better. All that matters is that they won't even have to think about not touching you again."

He rarely has to get his own hands dirty when he gets jealous. All it takes is him saying who the target or targets are and he makes them dissapear from Zaun. That doesn't always have to be deadly, but if they're really dumb it is. If Silco feels that you're in some kind of danger then he will keep you close by. He tries to distract you from seeing he's jealous.

"All I'm saying is that we could take a break from work. Sevika and Jinx can handle a week of it. And you and me can lock ourselves up in our home and not come out. The bedroom works perfectly fine too, if you'd rather spend our time in there. And what is it that I'm doing, darling? Jealous? You are an observant one. I wouldn't want you any other way."

The only time Silco will threaten someone in person is if that someone is bold enough to flirt with you in front of them. He can scare people within an inch of their life just by talking to them, he's not just a good businessman, and some people tend to forget that. He has Zaun in the palm of his hand, and everyone in it.

"He did not actually piss himself. Did he actually. Hm, I wasn't look at him anymore to be honest. He was spineless, surprising given he talked to you like he did. Guess he was thinking with his other head a bit too much for his own good. Why are you looking at me that way? Ah, I see. Looks like someone enjoyed watching me put a scumbag into his place a bit too much."

Since Finn isn't someone who would take anything lying down he will be damned before he sees someone coming onto his woman and not do anything about it. He might have a certain charm about him but that doesn't mean he's not ready to makes heads roll the moment when someone crosses any kind of line with you. Imaginary or otherwise.

"Hah, did you see that doll? As soon as I threw one punch he went down. All his buddies ran like rats. Left him all alone there. After all that tough talk and he couldn't even defend himself. Serves him right. He's lucky all I did was break his nose when he flirted with you. I wasn't even that far away."

Finn will make out with you in front of who ever he is jealous of just to prove a point to them. And while he has you moaning, has your head buried against his neck and your body running hot he will look at the other person and stick his tongue out at them, right before making a V with his fingers and putting his tongue between them. He's vulgar but it gets the point across very well.

"All these people looking at what's mine. Now, I can't have that right? I love that you're showing off your body, it's a great body, you know how much I love it. But sometimes I want to keep you away from prying eyes. And if I can't the least I can do is give them a show. Make them know I'm the only one who can touch you."

His jacket is a signature part of his outfit, but Finn will let you wear it. Hell, he will walk over and drape it over your shoulders while not even looking at whoever you're talking to. Sometimes they're not worth looking at when he can look at the pretty way you blush as you touch his hand that's lingering on your shoulder.

"Thought you looked a bit cold there. Keep this on all night. Later on I'll help you warm up my way, a much more fun way. Don't even worry about your perfume getting all into this, love having your scent all over me. And by tomorrow you're gonna be wearing all of my marks."

There are a lot of people in the Enforcers who tease Marcus about having such a pretty wife. He knows you're pretty, but he doesn't like that the department is noticing it so much as well. Not that there's any way for him to hide it, or that he wants you to hide it, that would be a real crime.

"I was not pouting. That is so childish. I was glaring at them. Well, they were the ones who stared first. You visit me at work, like that's such a big deal. We're married, honey, I pick you up from work too. Why is it such a big deal here? I think they're just trying to get a rise out of me."

Won't deny that he's feeling jealous or shy away from showing it. When Marcus notices any of his men flirting with you he makes them work extra hard that day, he gives them more paperwork, something that everyone hates there, or assigns them to the toughest jobs that he knows will take them days to complete. He can't help but chuckle when you visit again and they're too tired to flirt with you, they just say hello.

"What do you mean I'm picking on them? Of course not. You know how hard it is to deal with all these extra cases. Someone has to take on a few more. No, the fact that it's the same Enforcers who gave you flowers that one time has nothing to do with it. You think it does? And do you have evidence of this accusation?"

Marcus isn't shy about kissing you in front of the whole department. If that's what it takes to send them all a clear message to back off. It's always perfectly chaste kisses, but he does make sure that everyone hears him say he loves you when you leave. He smirks when eyes turn to him and he wishes them all a good rest of their day.

"Now you call me petty. All of these accusations and you still don't have any evidence. That's not a very good way to have a case. You've been keeping count have you? Oh. You... actually have been keeping count? I'm guilty? Fine, you got me, you got me. Maybe... that was a little petty of me, but I'm not sorry."

Every time Loris is jealous it's almost impossible for him to hide that fact. He's a big guy, nothing about him is easy to his, not even his emotions. And he's loud, so every time he huffs, mumbles something, or grunts you hear it. Your eyes meet and he looks away, his hand grasping yours and running his thumb over the back of your hand.

'They were staring at you a bit too much for my liking, pretty girl. If they were as tough as they pretend they were they should have held their ground more. Proves they were all bark and no bite. People like that really get on my nerves, and then they talk to my girl like she's single."

Loris invites you to have lunch with him quite often, even more often when he gets jealous of someone who works with him. Dealing with them in any other way would be unprofessional of him, and might get him in trouble. This way he gets to avoid that, avoid them, and spend a nice lunch date with you. No matter how you look at it he's the real winner here.

"Looks so good. But if you keep looking at me like that I might get hungry for something else besides the food. Just try shifting the blame on me when you know exactly how you're looking at me right now. I wouldn't risk it at work, but... if you showed up with a few hickeys on your neck it might get the rest of the department to stop flirting with you."

As much as he tries to make his jealousy go away it's not easy. Loris knows he should be an example for others, after all he had been an Enforcer for a long time, he can't just let his emotions get the better of him. Hard to keep those emotions down when they concern you. If nothing else works he will intimidate people. Easy enough for him. But he would rather that be a last resort.

"If he wasn't ready to throw fists and words at me then he shouldn't have thrown flirty words at you. He should be able to back himself up if he's gonna be saying stuff like that. All I did was pick him up and throw him outside. Hey, I might get in a bit of trouble for it, but at least he'll leave you alone from now on. I'd risk my badge for you if I have to, you know that."

Since he is the quiet type Steb shows his emotions and jealousy is one that he works hard to surpress. Every time he notices that someone is standing a little too close to you he walks over and looks at you, lovingly, then he looks at the other person with a glare, a deadly one. All the while he's standing shoulder to shoulder with you.

"Come now, angelfish, they weren't even worth your time. We both know they only had one thing in mind when they were talking to you. I could see it in their eyes. I don't appreciate that they looked at you like that. And I know you don't either. So I felt like I had to step in."

He is very physical with his jealousy. Steb lets his eyes and touches linger a few moments longer when he wants to make a point to someone. While he knows you don't hate it he also doesn't want to come off as too jealous or too possessive over you. You can take care of yourself and he loves that about you, he's watched you put people in their place often, but there are times where he can't hold himself back.

"I could feel your fingers interlocking with mine. You wanted me to stand close to you when they weren't leaving you alone. Would you have raised your voice if I hadn't walked over? It would be amusing to see it. But I think those kisses we shared also sent an equally powerful message. You didn't have to bit me though."

Steb nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck when he's feeling really, really jealous of someone. He makes it look less possessive than it is, pretending like he's overhearing something you have to say, and then pushing himself just a little bit closer. His cold lips make contact with your neck, sending shivers down your body before he brushes your lips with his thumb and leaves with a smirk.

"That ought to be enough. I could have done more but marking you in public might have been a step too far. We can enjoy things like that in private however. I enjoy being close to you in any context, and if it makes others realize you're not looking for anyone because you've already got a man then I enjoy it even more."

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unluckiestmember · 6 months ago

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how abt headcanons for the arcane women on a beach date? :0 feel free to add/remove anyone ^^

Coming right up!

Arcane X Beach Date with Reader!

Characters: Powder/Jinx, Violet "Vi", Caitlyn Kiramman, Ekko, Viktor, Jayce Talis, Mel Medarda, Sevika, Ran and Vander

Warning: Some slight suggestive themes and mild cursing. But pretty much SFW.

A/N: Aww, summer is practically over! I hope you guys had fun this summer and stayed safe! Whatever is next in the future, I hope we all have a great time and look forward to the rest of 2024! We only got three more months until Season Two guys, I know we can do it even if it feels so far. So let's hang in there!

Powder/Jinx

“Hey, hurry up and look over here, toots! I’m about to pull off the biggest cannonball!... Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine- Now watch me!”

At the beach, Jinx is absolutely going to do everything under the sun, whether it be legal or illegal! She might not be the best swimmer, but she loves getting in the water, especially jumping in and getting her adrenaline going. And you better expect her to get you involved in a water fight! Just don’t expect her to play fair, girlie has a bunch of mechanisms she can make into weapons for your game and she’s not afraid to use them!

Sand castles are requested and being buried in sand is a must. A date at the beach with the Loose Cannon feels more like a hangout than a lovely day together in the sand, but don’t get it wrong. Jinx loves spending time with you at the beach and will sneak some kisses to your cheek or slam her lips on yours. She’s pretty sure your beach date is probably one of the best days of her life and it’s all thanks to you.

Violet “Vi”

“This is the perfect weather for a nice swim, babe. Hey- Race you to the other side. Last one there is buying ice cream!”

When you invited Violet to a date on the beach, she was more than ready, she was beyond excited! She is a perfect balance between playful and romantic, always flirting with you in regards to your swimsuit and even sneaking some seductive touches along your body. And right when she’s done or is about to kiss you, she’s quick to trick you by running away gleefully waiting for you to catch her or messing with you.

She’s not exactly the best of swimmers, but is willing to learn and get her feet wet just for you. If you both aren’t having fun talking to each other and exploring the beach side by side, then guests of the beach better expect to see a happy couple making out in the sand or getting affectionate. Peering eyes or none, a beach date with Violet is all you could ever ask for and more.

Caitlyn Kiramman

“Ahh, isn’t this absolute bliss, my love-... Did. Did you just splash me? Oh, you’re gonna pay royally for that.”

Caitlyn has been to the beach quite a lot in the summer with her family and always loved spending time on the coast. So when you asked her on a getaway there, she was immediately on board. During your date, she makes sure you are all okay, rubbing sunscreen on you and checking if all your equipment is accounted for. Caitlyn is more on the quieter side, having a picnic in the sand with you or laying in the shade and just catching the breeze.

But do not let this fool you; She can be playful and accept your requests to swim, especially since she’s a pro at it, or just play in general! She’ll always be open to exploring underwater with you or even making some sand castles together! When it’s time to go, Caitlyn almost doesn’t want to leave, but at least she has a sweet memory and new tradition to share with you.

Ekko

“You’re right, we all needed this vacation. Everyone’s happy and you’re happy, so I’m fine. Wanna take a swim with the others?”

Ekko has never been to the beach before. He’s only heard stories from Pilties that passed by the undercity and seen pictures of it, but has never set foot on one, and neither has the Firelights. Whenever he needed a swim or a getaway, he would just find a local lake or river to satisfy him and everyone else’s needs. So you can imagine his surprise when you set up a little vacation for him and his allies on the coast!

The leader of the firelights is beyond happy the entire time you’re by his side and showing off the beach to the firelights, engaging in small games of volleyball or tag with the young ones. Of course it’s still a date for you two, so he’s sure to give you all the love and care you could ask for when the kids or Scar aren’t taking up you two’s time. But even then, it is all in all a fun experience to share, whether alone or with the freedom fighters.

Viktor

“Aye! How is the water so cold? Maybe you should swim on without me… Don’t worry, I’ll keep watch-. H-Hey! Fine, I’ll join you, let’s just take it slow.”

It had been years since Viktor had stepped on a beach before you asked him on a date there. The once feeling of sand in his feet made him raise an eyebrow and the wind touching his skin had him a bit nervous with his body out. From the looks of it, you were sure at first that this would be a hard time to enjoy together…

But after a while and a bit of convincing to let loose with some encouragement, the scientist finally let loose a little and enjoyed all of the beach with you. He may not be able to swim, but walking in the water, holding your hand and feeling the small waves crash into his ankles? Now that was a piece of absolute heaven. And exploring uncharted territories with you to find the most beautiful of caves was beyond delightful. He would have to remind himself to come to the beach with you more often.

Jayce Talis

“What’s up? Are you admiring my muscles?... If you’re looking at them dry, I can’t wait to see how you’ll look at them wet. Now come on in!”

All it took was one date to find out that Jayce practically belonged on the beach with you! There he acted like such an excited child in his trunks running immediately into the water with your hand in his to feel the waves wash over you two. Don’t expect to do much outside of swimming unless you need something from your personal belongings, and even then Jayce will go grab it for you and head straight back in!

He isn’t much of a goofball swimming with you outside of small moments of teasing, but he does get quite handsy and flirtatious, holding your waist and pulling you close to kiss you. Everyone can practically put together that you are his with how affectionate he is around you. And he doesn’t care either because he doesn’t mind putting you on the pedestal where you belong. It’s a chill date, but a nice date regardless.

Mel Medarda

“Mmm, we needed this, sweetheart. A day away from the nagging, pointless fighting and having to meet expectations? It’s absolutely worth it.”

A beach date with Mel has got to be one of the calmest dates you’ll ever have in your life. Mel isn’t much of a swimmer, preferring to just walk down the coast with you. But even then, she spends most of her time sunbathing and simply taking in the ambiance around the both of you in relaxation. For some it may be boring, but for her just being near you and practically doing nothing is heavenly.

Of course she won’t be a prude though. Sometimes she’ll take a minute and collect seashells to take home with her as souvenirs. And if you do want to swim around or really utilize the beach, she will let you and simply watch you having fun lovingly from the sidelines. That is unless you want her to join you, then just ask and she’ll be right by your side enjoying every second with you.

Sevika

“Ran is challenging me to volleyball and I was wondering if you’d want to be my partner?... Thanks babydoll- Hey, Ran! Get ready to get your ass kicked!”

Sevika doesn’t go to the beach unless it’s with a group of friends. Only then with them and you as company is she gonna have the time of her life! Outside of work and in the sand, the muscular woman is a lot more relaxed and a bit playful with everyone, including yourself. She’ll do whatever you’d like as long as it means you both are enjoying yourself.

Want to play a few games? She’s all for it. Want to just kick back and take in the sun and the waves? She’s cool with that too! Nothing is off limits for the Right Hand of Zaun, and I mean nothing. Because if you feel it’s not exactly a date, then Sevika has no problem taking you somewhere a bit more secluded and showing you a great time~. At the end of the day, you’re sure to look back on your time with your girlfriend at the beach fondly and can’t wait for the next one!

Vander

“We should try and make this a tradition. You, me and the kids, come down to the beach every summer. They’d look forward to it every year. And so will I…”

Everytime you and Vander go to the beach, it is usually with the kids as an annual family outing. Yeah, the both of you have to babysit a bit and deal with the mindless teasing of the sumprats when you both get intimate, but you enjoy yourselves regardless. You love when the Hound of the Undercity plays tag with his adopted children, even dragging you in for the ride and getting a good adrenaline kick from it all.

You two always leave the beach excited for the next time around the following year with tired kids needing to be laid down. He makes sure to let you know how grateful he was to spend time with you and everyone else, nuzzling into you and whispering how much he loves you. Though you miss those days, you never broke that tradition, even when the world fell apart. No matter what, you always come back every summer to the beach to keep the memory alive…

If you got any requests for Arcane or X-Men '97, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

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spxllcxstxr · 3 months ago

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Jayce Dating Someone from the Undercity • Headcanon

(Gif not mine)

Request: i would like to request jayce x fem reader headcanons with a reader who is from the undercity. -- anon

Warnings: mention of undercity judgment/bigots, mentions of scars, general anxiety, still very very cute

A.N: JAYCE!!!! 😫😫😫😫😫😫 I love him so much, I hope you all enjoy!

•

You never thought you would end up with someone like Jayce Talis. Piltover’s Golden Boy. The Man of Progress. An easily excitable man with just the biggest heart. No, you never thought you’d ever be this lucky

At first you thought he was just some privileged top sider; pretty on the outside, ugly in the inside. But Jayce wears his big heart on his sleeve. Within moments of interacting with him it was revealed to you that he was a caring individual with dreams of helping people in need. He wanted peace and prosperity for all

No matter how hard he tries, Jayce will never understand what life was like in the murky depths of the Undercity. You had friends you considered as family growing up, of course; that was the sliver of happiness you were lucky enough to have. But even then life was tough

The constant fear of something lurking behind you (or hanging above you) was one you couldn't shake even after years of living top side with Jayce. The need to check over your shoulder when strolling through the streets of Piltover and the frantic obsession with double--no, triple--checking the locks in your apartment was a necessity that was buried deep within your soul

(When you first started dating you felt immensely embarrassed by the mannerisms the Undercity ingrained into you. It took a couple dates before Jayce asked you in a hushed voice if you were being followed by a chem-baron or some other adjacent criminal. At that point you knew you had to sit him down and explain everything)

Jayce is ever so patient when it comes to you. While in the lab he wants answers and results for whatever he's tinkering with, with you he feels as if he can sit and wait forever. If you ever need to talk he’s all ears

He never made you feel stupid or insane for your habits, not even when you first told him about how you were raised. Jayce was so patient as you told him with tears in your eyes that no amount of time top side would stop the gnawing anxiety your childhood gave you. He held your hands and wiped the tears away as they ran down your cheeks. You almost made him cry, golden eyes filled to the brim with tears making them look like liquid sunlight

That's when you really knew you loved him completely, and that he had loved you too. That was your Jayce, a man who wanted to understand you and have you know every second that he had your back

Despite your differences, Jayce never made you feel less than. Being top side made you feel like you were branded with the term 'Undercity Rat' across your forehead. People would give you looks and stuff their hands deep in their pockets to grasp onto their coins tighter when you walked by. But Jayce was never like that. Maybe it was because of his close friendship with Viktor, or maybe your sweet, sweet Jayce simply wasn't born with a bigoted bone in his body

Jayce also sticks up for you and has your back if anyone makes you feel unwelcome top side. He knows you can hold your own and fight your own battles, but he can’t help but get involved and defend you. His jaw clenches and his knuckles turn white from squeezing his hands into tight fists at his sides. He just doesn’t believe that you of all people should be judged. Jayce believes that you are a kind and beautiful soul and that you deserve the world

He likes holding your hand when walking around the city, not only because he’s big on touch and displays of affection, but also to let everyone know that he loves you—no matter your background

If you have any physical scars on your body he will always lightly kiss them; showing affection is what Jayce loves doing. He wants to make sure you know that he loves every single part of you

He loves that you and Viktor become friends. You two started out with a shared bond of being Undercity street kids turned top siders. Jayce asks Viktor for advice when it comes to you, whether you would like something or if you knew what something was

All in all, Jayce just wants you to feel loved every second of every day. He has so much love for you and he wants to show it. He’s just bursting out the seams with his admiration for you. You are his everything, and he’s never afraid to show that off

•

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane headcanon #Jayce #jayce talis #jayce x reader #jayce talis x reader #jayce x you #Jayce talis x you #Jayce Headcanons #Jayce Talis Headcanons #arcane fanfic #Jayce fanfic

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honey-pages · 3 months ago

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Tea and Biscuits - Viktor X Reader (Study Date Part 3)

This is part 3 to Study Date - as requested and crossposted to Ao3.

Description -

You awake in Viktor's bed after the adventurous night before.

1.1k words

F/M. 18+. Fluff. Brief Mention of Sex. Mostly SFW.

You wake up in Viktor’s bed the next morning. It is large and empty, prioritising comfort and space. His room is quite dark, lit only by lamps and small light sources. This was not the kind of sexual encounter where you wake up in an unfamiliar bed in a blur - you remembered exactly what happened the night before.

After the sex in the lab, Viktor held you tightly, not wanting to let you go. His smug cockiness in the library had given you the impression that he was perhaps more confident than he actually was in his acquisition of you. As he began to untangle himself from you, he learnt down and planted a kiss on your forehead.

In the closeness he spoke, “I want you to know (Y/N), that I would not get into this kind of entanglement if I did not intend to keep at least a part of me attached.”

You took a second to read further into what he was trying to say.

“I am not in the science of casual encounters.”

You allowed him to continue, providing no response.

“I have feelings for you.”

You felt almost as frozen as you did in the library. It was not that you did not reciprocate, you did. It was just that this confession came on so suddenly.

“It feels as though I have always had this passion for you, and I can’t hold it back anymore.”

You allow more time before realising that this is not what Viktor needs. Reassurance.

“Viktor, I feel the same.” You reply.

His face softens and his brow relaxes. He returns, “I always thought you were so special. Special enough that I was content to watch you and be around you, even if just from afar. I didn't know if my attention was what you needed.”

“What I needed?”

“You are so full of potential. So much power and emotion. I have seen you work, and I am interested in you far more than for just your brain, I assure you, I have not seen such passion in someone. You really are a rarity.”

You smile. It feels nice being seen. You knew Viktor on a work time basis, and it was nice to know you were not just more work for him. You had always imagined that he struggled to switch off, and he sometimes did, but when there is nothing to switch off and relax for- why not keep working? It was why you visited the library so often. Why you were so focused on your project. Shit. The project. Your mind focuses on the present. Your work is due Wednesday, and you need to defend it before the council panel. You wonder where Viktor is right now.

Looking around the room, you notice your clothes from last night are folded and draped over a chair next to his bed. You had slept naked in the end. You had not initially planned to, though the room was cold enough that when the two of you finally climbed into bed, you shed your clothes to press against each other. You skin to skin contact was electric and you held each other until now.

There’s a rattling sound coming from behind the door.

“Good morning (Y/N)” Viktor calls.

He walks in through the door backwards, propping it open with his back as he tilts down the door handle, juggling his cane and balance in the process. In his other hand precariously balanced is a tea tray.

He places down the tray on the nearest available surface - the end of the bed- and turns towards you.

“I made us some breakfast tea.” He beams.

He looks happy. His hair is fluffed and dishevelled and he wears just a loose pair of pyjama bottoms. He has been waiting in his lounge so as to not wake you, though to be close enough that when you did wake, he could go to the kitchen and make you-

“Breakfast tea! It’s made with tea (obviously), but also sweet milk and (optional) caffeine!” He looks proudly over the tea set he has put together.

You giggle, “Viktor that’s just regular tea”.

“Aha! You have fallen into my trap Miss (Y/N), regular tea is not served with…” He makes an anticipatory gesture with his hands. “Biscuits!”

You don’t correct him that tea is quite often served with biscuits. He looks so incredibly proud of his work. He has neatly arranged the pot, milk and cups and has served them in pristine fashion with accompanying small sweet brown sugar biscuits. You realise that this perhaps is a luxury Viktor does not have time to normally allow himself, you fill with gratitude and warmth. The teacups are mismatched. Living alone, it made sense as to why. He has never had to cater to anyone alongside himself, he only owns one of each set.

“Viktor it’s amazing, this all looks amazing!”

He sits himself in the chair, shifting your clothes onto the pillow behind you for when you need them. You become aware of your nakedness now your clothes are beside you. He stands once more, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you. He covers you both back up to the waist with the bed sheets and pulls the tray onto the flat of the both of your legs.

“How do you have it?” He asks.

You describe it to him, he pours it. You nibble at one of the biscuits, being careful to hold your hand underneath so no crumbs get into the bed. After he pours a drink for himself, one that’s very heavily milky, he wraps his arm around you, and you cuddle with your backs to the headboard. The world is warm again.

“Wednesday” Viktor states.

You look up at him, clueless.

“Your project. You need to defend your project to a board on Wednesday.”

“You remembered?”

“I’m on the board.” He grins.

Viktor spends the rest of his day running through techniques regarding presentation. He himself dislikes giving presentations, but he is experienced by proxy through the amount of projects he has seen go through the panel. You are not allowed to disclose the full details of your project to Viktor, now knowing he is on the board; however you allow vague descriptions of the concepts and rough ideas through the filter. He is very much interested and onboard- convinced you will succeed. It is only a few days until the presentation is scheduled and you are growing nervous.

“I have an idea that may ease your nerves. It is untested and it is one of my own creations, but I think it will help you remove some of the nervous associations you have with the boardroom.”

“That sounds like exactly what I need” You chime.

“It is slightly unconventional, but I think you are the perfect subject.”

#viktor x you #viktor x reader #viktor lol #viktor league of legends #arcane #viktor arcane #viktor fluff #fluff

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kirammanswifey · 1 month ago

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wedding with arcane characters x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: this was sooo cute, i'm literally sobbing and kicking my pillow right now, gosh i love being delusional. my favorite ones were sevika's and viktor's, let me know if you guys like it. as you already know request are open ;)

proposal link:

You stand at the end of the aisle, your dress a work of art, designed with light, soft fabrics that float around you. The subtle Hextech embroidery on the corset shines with every movement, a touch Viktor helped design, ensuring you wore something symbolizing his love for you and his passion for science. Your hair is styled in a loose bun, with a few strands framing your face, adorned with small blue flowers.

Viktor

The sun of Piltover shines softly, illuminating the grand terrace where your wedding with Viktor takes place. The city, known for its innovation and progress, seems to pause today to celebrate this intimate moment. The terrace is decorated with Hextech lights, which glow with a soft blue radiance, blending magic and science, something that defines your relationship with Viktor. White and blue flowers adorn every corner, reflecting a simple yet profound elegance.

At the other end of the aisle, Viktor awaits you, dressed in a suit that reflects his personality: sober and elegant, but with unique details. His black jacket has discreet blue embroidery, and instead of a tie, he wears a silk scarf that drapes gently over his chest, a symbol of his creativity and distinction. The look in his eyes is pure adoration and pride, though there is a slight spark of nervousness that only you can notice.

Heimerdinger, as a special guest, sits in the front row, his eyes shining with joy as he watches his former pupil unite with the woman who has changed his life. Jayce, standing next to him, smiles with fraternal pride, happy for his friend. The atmosphere is filled with soft murmurs and smiles, everyone expectant of the vows to come.

As you begin to walk towards Viktor, the world seems to stop. His eyes are fixed on you, and you can see how his breathing deepens, as if trying to capture every second of this moment. When you reach him, you take his hand, feeling his fingers tremble slightly, a reminder of his more human and vulnerable side.

The officiant says a few words about love and union, but everything seems to fade as Viktor looks into your eyes and begins to speak. His voice is firm but laden with emotion.

"All my life, I have sought answers in science, in calculations, in the tangible. But you... you are the only equation I can't solve, and I don't want to. You are my certainty in a world full of unknowns. And today, I want to promise you that I will stand by your side, not just as your partner in the lab, but as your husband, your support, your constant."

Tears begin to fill your eyes as his words pierce through you, but he continues, his voice softer now.

"I can't promise you that I'll always have the answers, but I can promise that I'll never stop searching for you, for us. You are my inspiration, my muse, and my eternal love. I choose you, again and again, in every possible reality."

The officiant gives you the signal to begin your vows, and you take a deep breath, holding Viktor's hands firmly.

"Viktor, you have shown me that love is more than a formula, more than an experiment. It is a constant discovery, an adventure I want to continue with you. I promise to stand by your side, in every success and every mistake, in every challenge and every triumph. Because you are my home, my refuge, and my infinite love."

The tears from both of you mix with the smiles as the officiant pronounces the words that unite you. Viktor gently pulls you close and kisses you, a kiss full of love, gratitude, and promises that were about to be sealed.

The kiss you share with Viktor is warm and gentle but filled with meaning. It's a moment of vulnerability that you both share, a point of union where all logic and science fade away, leaving only pure love. When you part, your eyes meet again, and the intensity of his gaze makes you feel as if the entire world has disappeared, leaving only the two of you in your universe.

Applause erupts around you, but you only have eyes for Viktor. He smiles, one of those rare smiles that only you can bring out of him, and you can see him relax, as if a massive weight has been lifted from his shoulders. With his fingers, he softly caresses the back of your hand, as if he needs to confirm that this is real, that you are finally one.

Heimerdinger approaches first, his tiny figure radiating paternal warmth. "Congratulations, my dear ones! This is a day that will go down in history not just for the union of two brilliant minds but for the union of two souls that have found a way to perfectly complement each other."

Viktor nods gratefully, his eyes still shining with emotion. "Thank you, professor. Your teachings have been a pillar in my life, and I am honored that you are here today."

Jayce also approaches, extending his hand to Viktor with a smile that is both happy and proud. "I never thought I'd see this day, Viktor. But I'm glad to be proven wrong. You're not just a great scientist; you're a great man. And you" —he turns to you— "are the reason we've seen him flourish this way. Thank you for that."

You take Jayce's hand with a smile, feeling the warmth of his sincerity. "It's been an incredible journey, and I know it's just the beginning."

The rest of the guests gradually approach, each offering their best wishes.

The reception continues with laughter, music, and dancing. Viktor, although not a great dancer, takes your hand and leads you to the dance floor, his movements clumsy but full of effort to please you. Every step he takes is a testament to his love, willing to step out of his comfort zone just to see you smile.

As the night progresses, you find a moment to escape with Viktor to a quieter corner of the terrace, from where you can see the lights of Piltover stretching like a blanket of stars at your feet. He wraps you in his arms, whispering softly against your ear.

"I promise to keep loving you, researching you, discovering new ways to make you happy every day of our lives together. You are my most valuable experiment and my most desired result."

You lean into him, gently touching his face with your hands, letting the warmth of his words seep into every corner of your being.

"And I promise to be your constant. In every formula, in every challenge, I will be by your side, always."

Both of you remain there, embraced, watching the horizon of Piltover, knowing that this is just the beginning of a life filled with love, science, and mutual discoveries.

The altar is an improvised structure made of twisted metal and recycled machinery parts, all painted in Jinx's favorite colors: electric blue and bubblegum pink. It's a small ceremony, attended only by close people. Vi is there, with her characteristic red hair and a smile trying to hide her emotion at seeing her little sister on this special day. Sevika, imposing as always, stands at the back, arms crossed, but her eyes betray a slight approving smile.

Jinx

The day has arrived, and, like everything related to Jinx, it is not a common day. The venue for the ceremony is as unpredictable as she is, an abandoned warehouse in the heart of the Undercity, transformed into a controlled chaos setting. The walls are covered in vibrant graffiti, some clearly Jinx's work, with explosions of blue and pink colors intertwining in chaotic yet beautiful patterns. Neon lamps flicker, casting intermittent lights that create an almost electric atmosphere. Explosives and sparks are part of the decoration, carefully placed to be part of the spectacle rather than a threat.

You stand at the altar, waiting for Jinx, your heart pounding. You're wearing a fitted suit, dark but with colorful details reflecting the madness you're about to embrace. Your tie, an electric blue, matches the sparkles on your shoes. Everything about your outfit has been thought out to be worthy of Jinx.

The music starts, a mix of electronic and punk rhythms that make the place vibrate. It's a unique composition, probably created by Jinx in one of her moments of inspiration. Silco, in an unusual but significant gesture, walks in with Jinx on his arm. His face remains impassive, but his eyes reflect a slight softness as he guides his adoptive daughter towards you. Isha walks behind them, holding a bouquet of black roses in her hands, her eyes looking at Jinx as always, with that mix of admiration and affection.

Jinx is radiant. Her dress is unconventional, a work of art out of the ordinary: a tight black leather corset with metal details and a skirt made of fabric strips in blue and pink, some torn, others decorated with small explosives and gears. Her hair, tied in two high pigtails, is adorned with small LED lights flashing in rhythm with her accelerated heartbeat. Her combat boots are the final statement that, even though it's her wedding, she's still the same Jinx.

When she sees Vi among the crowd, her gaze softens for a second. You know that, although she won’t say it out loud, having her sister there is a gift she deeply appreciates. It's that little glint of emotion in her eyes that makes you feel this is, without a doubt, the best day of her life.

As she reaches the altar, Silco leaves her by your side, whispering something in her ear before stepping aside. Jinx looks at you with a mix of nervousness and pure excitement, her dazzling smile like the neon lights flickering around her.

The ceremony is brief, but every word, every moment is charged with the energy that only Jinx could bring. When the time for the vows comes, Jinx pulls out a crumpled note from her pocket and, with a mischievous smile, reads:

"I promise not to blow you to pieces... too much. I promise you'll always be my accomplice in every explosion, in every madness, and in every laugh we make echo in this world. Because you are my favorite chaos, and there's no one I'd rather be in the middle of the disaster with than you."

The vows make you laugh and tear up at the same time, as the whole place seems to hold its breath for a second before bursting into applause and cheers when you both kiss amidst a fireworks display.

The party continues. Everything seems like a strange dream filled with bright lights, fireworks, and overflowing laughter. The event's hustle and bustle blend with the night's energy, but as you stand watching the whirlwind of people, your eyes settle on a distant corner. There, Jinx is talking to Vi. Both seem more relaxed, as if they could finally find some peace amidst the chaos surrounding them. The satisfaction you feel is profound; bringing the sisters together is the most significant gift you could give them, and seeing them together now, though discreetly, fills you with pride. You knew Jinx would value it more than she would ever say.

You find yourself talking to Sevika, who stays close, observing everything with her typical reserved attitude. She glances at you sideways and, without much verbosity, comments:

"Do you know what you're doing, right? Jinx isn't... easy to handle."

You chuckle softly, recognizing a mix of concern and disguised affection in her words. "Yeah, I know. But it's not about handling her, Sevika. It's about being with her."

Sevika slowly nods, her expression relaxing a bit. "You're braver than you look. I guess if anyone can do it, it's you."

With that, Sevika walks away, leaving you with a smile on your lips, knowing that, in her own brusque way, she has shown her approval.

A few moments later, Jinx approaches, her overflowing energy still present, but now more focused on you. "Come on, let's sneak away for a bit," she says, taking your hand and leading you to a quiet corner away from the hustle.

Once alone, you stand looking at her for a moment before softly asking, "Sweets, what did Silco whisper to you at the altar? It seemed important."

She remains silent for a moment, her gaze softening as she remembers. Finally, she responds, her voice lower than usual. "He told me... 'Remember who taught you to survive, but also who taught you to love. Make sure you never forget those parts of you.'"

Silco's words are profound, and they touch you in an unexpected way. You take Jinx's hand in yours, caressing it gently. "That's beautiful."

Jinx smiles, leaning in towards you, her lips about to touch yours. But just then, you hear a soft murmur. You both turn to see Isha approaching, her eyes shining with joy as she makes sounds reflecting her excitement.

Jinx laughs and leans in to hug the little one, relieved and happy for her presence. "Isha, where have you been?" she murmurs, stroking her hair affectionately. Then she looks at you and smiles. "Looks like someone didn’t want us to miss out on all the fun."

Isha clings to both of you, her affection evident, even though she can't express it in words. Jinx lifts her in her arms and gives you a look full of love and gratitude before you return together to the party.

Vi stood at the altar, her impeccably tailored black suit fitting perfectly, though she seemed slightly out of place among such opulence. Her eyes, however, lit up when she saw you enter the hall. You walked with natural elegance, your white silk wedding dress flowing gracefully with each step, the light veil delicately draping over your shoulders, framing your radiant face. Vi couldn’t take her eyes off you, as if the entire world had faded away at that moment.

The ceremony was in full swing, the hall adorned with imported flowers and soft lighting that wrapped everything in an almost magical halo. Every detail, from the centerpieces to the most delicate lace, had been carefully selected by your parents, wanting to ensure that your wedding would be a memorable event. The soft music filled the air, and the murmurs of the guests, mostly acquaintances of your family, mingled with the floral aroma.

When you reached her side, you took her hand, feeling the familiar touch, the anchor that always kept you grounded. The officiant began to speak about love, devotion, and the union of two souls. And then, the moment of the vows came.

Vi took a deep breath, her voice firm yet tinged with emotion. "I promise to love you every step of the way, to honor and protect you. To be your strength when you need it, and your refuge in storms. You are my light, my love, and the only place I always want to return to. Today and always, I choose you."

A lump formed in your throat, but you managed to smile, feeling every word resonate deep within you. You held her hand tighter and began your own vows. "From the moment our eyes met, I knew my life would change forever. I promise to be your partner, your unconditional support, and love you with every part of my being. In joy and in hardship, I will be by your side. I choose you today, tomorrow, and forever."

The rings were exchanged, sealing your eternal commitment. And when the officiant declared you united in marriage, Vi looked at you as if you were the only person in the universe. The kiss you shared was more than a mere union of lips; it was the promise of a life together, through good and bad.

After the ceremony, you began greeting the guests. The familiar faces of your parents smiled approvingly, but Vi couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed. Despite the congratulations and well wishes, there was something in her gaze that worried you. Noticing her tension, you gently took her hand, guiding her to a balcony offering a respite from the crowd.

The night breeze caressed your faces as you leaned on the railing. From there, Seraphine’s voice could be heard in the distance, singing a melody that seemed to envelop the moment in serene calm. Vi sighed, her shoulders relaxing a bit, but her eyes still reflected a sadness she couldn't hide.

“What’s wrong, love?” you asked softly, caressing her cheek.

She looked at you with a mixture of love and melancholy. “It’s just that… this day is perfect, but I feel the absence of my family. My father, my sister… they should be here. They should be with me, with you. But they’re not, and that… it hurts.”

You immediately understood the depth of her pain. Vi had always been strong, but the wounds of her past were still there, reminding her of everything she had lost. You moved closer to her, wrapping your arms around her, trying to convey all the comfort you could.

"I know, baby," you said tenderly. "I know it hurts, and it’s natural to feel that sadness. Unfortunately, the actions of the past resonate in the present, you can’t change them but you can learn to live with them, to remember the positive and leave the pain behind. They may not be here physically, but they are in that great heart of yours, and that’s all that should matter, my beautiful and sweet wife," you said with a contagious smile.

Vi closed her eyes for a moment, letting your words sink deep into her. She hugged you tightly, as if she wanted to absorb all your warmth, all the strength you offered.

“Thank you,” she whispered against your ear. “Thank you for understanding me, for loving me like this, even with all my scars.”

You softly kissed her cheek. "This is until death, baby, literally."

Vi looked at you, her eyes reflecting a gratitude and love so deep it seemed almost overwhelming. “I love you,” she said firmly, as if those words were the only truth in the world.

“And I love you,” you responded, smiling.

Just then, the sky lit up with an explosion of unusual colors. Fireworks painted the sky with vibrant and unique tones, creating patterns that seemed almost impossible. Vi looked up, surprised at first, but then a soft smile appeared on her lips.

"Powder," she whispered with a touch of nostalgia and affection in her voice.

You held Vi closer, sharing that intimate moment, feeling Jinx's presence in every spark that lit up the sky.

Caitlyn looked radiant. Her dress was a reflection of her lineage and character. In the characteristic colors of her family, a deep blue with golden details representing her heritage, the dress cascaded in fine fabric, enhancing her figure with unparalleled elegance. Every step she took toward the altar seemed a declaration of love and strength, her eyes meeting yours with a mixture of nerves and devotion.

Caitlyn

The day of the wedding had arrived, bringing with it the perfect combination of the Kiramman family tradition and the simplicity you had always desired. After many conversations, a consensus had been reached that satisfied both sides. The ceremony venue, an elegant and serene garden, was adorned with the lavender flowers you had suggested, their fragrance gently enveloping the air, seemingly tailored for the love you shared with Caitlyn. At the same time, the decorations contained exquisite details that reflected Caitlyn's family legacy and status, achieving a balance between sophistication and intimacy.

Your dress, on the other hand, was simple yet beautiful, with details that perfectly complemented Caitlyn's grandeur without overshadowing it. The lavender details on the hem of your dress were a nod to your wishes, a small reminder of the peace and simplicity you wanted to bring to the life you were about to start together.

As the moment for vows arrived, the world seemed to stop. Caitlyn took your hands with gentle firmness, her eyes shining with an intensity that could only be love. Her voice, at first a whisper, grew stronger with each word.

"From the first moment I saw you, I knew there was something in you that would change my life. Working together, as leader and subordinate, I learned to admire your strength, your dedication, your passion for what is right. And today, I am here not just as your leader, but as your equal, as your partner. I promise to be your refuge in the storm, your support in difficult times, and the person who will always fight by your side for a better future."

It was hard to hold back tears as you spoke, your words coming from the depths of your heart.

"Cait, your logic, your strength, your unwavering sense of justice have inspired me every day. I promise to be by your side, not only as your life partner but as your companion in every challenge, in every victory, in every defeat. I promise to love you in the ordinary and the extraordinary, in the simple and the complex, until death do us part."

The ceremony culminated in a kiss that sealed not just your vows but also the promise of a shared future.

Later, while you were both enjoying a moment alone, Maddie approached. It was impossible not to roll your eyes at her impertinence; that little ginger had always shown interest in Caitlyn. You took a large sip from your glass, preparing for the tense moment you knew was coming.

"Congratulations, Caitlyn, truly a beautiful ceremony," Maddie said with a smile that, although seemingly friendly, had an undertone you didn’t miss. "And you too, you look... very happy."

Although Maddie's words were kind, her tone suggested something else. It was passive-aggressive. The barely concealed flirting toward Caitlyn made you feel a surge of jealousy, but you kept your composure. With a firm smile, you took Caitlyn's hand and intertwined your fingers with hers, making the bond you shared clear.

"How could I not be happy with a woman like this by my side? I can't believe she's mine now. My wife," you said, appreciating your partner’s divinity, your tone seemingly casual but loaded with warnings in big red letters. "Thank you, Maddie, we were very pleased you could attend," you added with a hypocritical smile.

Maddie seemed to get the message, and after a few awkward seconds, she bid farewell with a somewhat more forced smile. "Enjoy your night," she said before walking away.

"Was that necessary?" Caitlyn asked, raising an eyebrow, although her eyes showed a mix of amusement and reproach.

"I can't help it," you replied with a smile. "You're too irresistible. Besides, I don’t like gingers." Your comment made her chuckle softly.

The moment to throw the bouquet arrived. Standing together, you both tossed the bouquet back, and to everyone’s surprise, it landed in Jayce's hands. The bewilderment on his face was unmatched as his companion almost choked on her champagne. Caitlyn and you burst into laughter, a sound that echoed throughout the venue, filling the air with contagious joy.

The kiss that followed was the culmination of everything: love, commitment, and union. Everyone present looked at you with admiration, knowing they were witnessing a love that wasn’t seen every day.

As you walked down the aisle, all eyes were on you, but your gaze only sought Jayce, who waited at the end, standing beside the officiant, looking impeccable in his dark suit, his expression a mixture of emotion and admiration. When your eyes met his, all the tension vanished, leaving only the palpable love between you.

Jayce

The big day had arrived. The ceremony took place in a majestic hall in Piltover, with tall windows that allowed the evening light to stream in, bathing the space in a golden glow. The walls were adorned with elegant dark blue velvet curtains and chandeliers that cast a warm and welcoming light. The atmosphere was sophisticated, yet imbued with an intimate air that made every guest feel part of something special.

Upon reaching his side, Jayce gently took your hands in his, and the world seemed to stand still. The officiant began to speak, but the only thing that mattered was the moment you two shared your vows.

Jayce spoke first. He took a deep breath, his voice firm but filled with emotion, an emotion only you could awaken in him.

"Today, I give you not just my heart, but my mind, my doubts, my fears. I promise to always stand by your side, even on those days when everything seems uncertain. I promise that if the path ever becomes difficult, I will not abandon you. With you, I've learned that life isn't perfect, but the love we share is. And with every step we take together, I promise not only to love you but to be the best version of myself, for you, for us."

He looked at you tenderly as you absorbed his words, and then it was your turn. You smiled, and before speaking, you felt a torrent of emotions washing over you.

"I promise that in every challenge, in every little big obstacle, I'll remind you that we're not alone. We have each other. I don't have all the answers, and sometimes I'll be more human than you'd like, but I promise to always strive to be the best partner you could have. I promise that even when life gets overwhelming, I'll be the one to hold you up. I promise to see you, not just in your achievements, but in your doubts, in your insecurities, and to love you even more for them. I promise to keep growing with you, not just as a couple, but as individuals, always learning, always changing, but always coming back to each other."

You knew Jayce was holding back tears, so you didn't wait any longer and hugged him.

"It's okay, big baby, you can cry, no one will judge you. And if they do, that's what your wife is for, I'll eradicate them using some of your scientific gadgets," you promised, rubbing his back.

Jayce pulled back with reddened eyes, took your face, and kissed you once and for all. You knew people were clapping, you knew they were watching, but at that moment, you were lost in him.

The reception was equally unforgettable. The hall was decorated with warm lights that created a festive yet elegant atmosphere. Soft music filled the air as guests enjoyed the food and company.

The moment to cut the cake arrived with great anticipation. It was a masterpiece of several tiers, adorned with subtle, shimmering details.

With knife in hand, you and Jayce cut the first slice together, smiling. But in a moment of carelessness, the piece of cake slipped from your grasp, and just when it seemed it would hit the floor, Jayce caught it with quick reflexes. The hall was filled with exclamations of surprise.

Jayce stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do with the cake in his hand, but you stepped forward, amused, and without thinking twice, took a bite directly from his hand. Your nose got smeared with a bit of cream in the process, and Jayce, infected by your spontaneity, did the same, taking the cake to his mouth with the other hand.

Both of you laughed, and without caring about the cake still on your faces, you kissed, a mixture of tenderness and fun that drew applause and cheers from the guests.

The night continued with dancing and toasts to the newlywed couple.

An old warehouse that had been partially restored with recycled materials from the city itself. The walls were covered with makeshift canvases, some blank, others splattered with vibrant colors. In the background, music filled the air, rhythms that made the structures vibrate and resonated in the atmosphere, music created from a mix of Undercity instruments and Zaun's machine sounds. This wasn’t a place of ostentation, but one full of life and soul.

Ekko

Your wedding with Ekko wasn’t going to be like the others you had seen. It wasn’t a pompous ceremony, there were no long dresses or elaborate rituals. Instead, there was a feeling of community, of closeness, something that could only come from a place like Zaun. The event wasn’t held in a shiny hall, but in a space that Ekko had carefully chosen, a hidden corner between the broken structures of the city that, in his words, had been the "epicenter of it all."

The decor was the complete opposite of what you would expect from a traditional wedding. Lights hung disorderly from the ceiling, some glowing with the dim light of gas lamps, while others flickered like the stars that could barely be seen through the thick fog. The guests weren’t wearing expensive clothes or formal suits, but what reflected their identity: work-stained clothes, leather jackets, worn-out boots from the long walks around the city. But everyone, absolutely everyone, was smiling.

You, standing in front of Ekko, felt such a deep emotion that words seemed insufficient to describe what was happening. He wasn’t wearing a typical suit or a ceremonial outfit. Instead, he had created something unique for that day. His jacket was handmade from recycled materials, with colorful patches and mechanical details that seemed to have a life of their own, as if the very essence of Zaun was woven into his clothes. The watch he once showed you was now tied to his wrist, not as jewelry, but as a reminder of his love, of the time you had spent together.

Beside you, your outfit was equally unconventional. You had opted for something comfortable but full of details that spoke of who you were: a light linen dress with hints of metallic fabric that subtly shimmered, and sturdy boots that allowed you to move freely, with a light cape that fluttered in the breeze. You didn’t need anything more to feel like yourself.

The children ran around you, laughing and playing while you imitated them in an impromptu dance. Some took your hands, others watched you with curiosity, but all were filled with that energy that only the youngest could offer. Ekko watched you from the side, leaning against one of the old columns, his face full of pure admiration. His eyes sparkled with the reflection of the lights, but what mattered most was the emotion that coursed through him.

Finally, after a while of music and laughter, the ceremony reached its most awaited moment. Ekko approached you, his gaze fixed, and his heart clearly beating in his chest. The bustle around seemed to fade as you began to hear his voice.

"Today, we’re not here to follow the rules others impose on us," Ekko began, his tone deep and serious, but with that spark in his eyes that only you knew. "I won’t promise you that I’ll be perfect, because I know none of us are. But what I can promise you is that I’ll never stop moving forward by your side. That, no matter how the world keeps turning, I’ll always be looking for ways to stop time so we can enjoy every moment together." He paused, his eyes fixed on yours, seeking your reactions, your thoughts. "And if you ever feel like everything is falling apart, I want you to remember this: no matter how much time passes, no matter how many times we fall, I’ll always be with you. We’re going to make every second count."

You took a deep breath, feeling the warmth in your chest. Everything you had lived with Ekko had led you to this moment, and you didn’t need anything more to know that what he said was exactly what you felt.

Your turn came, and although you had no script, you knew exactly what you wanted to say. "In all this time, the only thing I’ve learned is that it doesn’t matter what future lies ahead, what matters is what we choose to do with it. And what I choose, Ekko, is to keep walking by your side. Because I don’t need anything more than you. I don’t care if everything changes, because what we have, this we’ve built, is what I want to keep forever. So yes, I’m staying with you, always."

The sound of applause resonated softly around you, but it didn’t matter because at that moment, only you and he existed. You both shared a smile, a look that said everything the heart couldn’t express. You didn’t need a ring, or a contract. Your love was your promise.

The party continued, the banquet began, and everyone gathered to share the food, laughter, and joy. Ekko and you toasted, raising glasses filled with a drink that tasted like life, like everything you had overcome and everything yet to come.

Finally, the night reached its climax. Ekko took your hand and, without saying a word, you both walked toward the exit, where your hoverboards awaited. You got on the floating platforms, and with a swift movement, you began to soar through the skies of Zaun. As you rose, the city of lights stretched beneath you, but the most beautiful thing was the moon shining above, large and serene.

In a secluded corner, where the stars seemed to touch the moon, Ekko stopped the hoverboard. The city appeared to sleep beneath the mist, and only the two of you remained, suspended in the air, floating in your own universe.

Without saying another word, you kissed. A kiss that tasted like a happily ever after.

"Together, always," you murmured, and Ekko, with a calm smile, replied: "Always."

You, standing at the makeshift altar, felt a mixture of nerves and serenity. The dress you wore was a deep black, the same color Silco wore. The design was custom-made, a corset that accentuated your figure and a long skirt that fell gently to the ground, with dark lace details playing with the shadows of the flowers. Jinx had left her personal touch on you: a small touch of fluorescent green paint at the edge of your dress, almost invisible at first glance, but enough for you to remember her presence when you looked at it.

Silco

The wedding ceremony between you and Silco was everything one might expect from such an imposing, calculating man, yet so deeply different when it came to his most profound feelings. The light in the greenhouse was dim, filtered through the leaves of the rare flowers that wound around the metal structures. The air was thick with a sweet, fresh scent, as if the space had been designed not only to house plants but to keep secrets, to conceal moments that escaped the outside world.

Silco, as was his custom, made no extravagance. His perfectly tailored black suit seemed almost made of shadow, as if his presence filled the space around him. His jacket was closed, but the high collar and the lines of the design denoted power and elegance, alongside his character of absolute control. Despite his impassive face, there was something in his gaze that softened when he looked at you, as if he had finally allowed himself to be vulnerable before you, even if only for a brief moment.

The only witnesses were Sevika and Jinx, who remained silent, watching from a corner of the greenhouse, though Jinx couldn’t help but murmur something under her breath, always so enthusiastic, always so unpredictable. The ceremony was brief, without flourish, as if both of you knew that no grand words were necessary to seal what you felt. The moment was perfect in its simplicity.

When Silco began to speak, his voice was low, deep, but filled with a sincerity he rarely allowed himself to show. "You know what we are, what we have been. You know what I’ve done for this world, for my people... but you also know I can't go on without you. I don’t want to." His gaze fixed on you, so steady, so sure, as if this was the exact moment everything he had done until now made sense. "I don’t offer you a life without risks, without pain... but I offer you all that I am, all that I can give. And I ask that you be mine, not just now, but forever."

Your words came out with the same intensity, though the softness of your tone showed how much you loved him. "I don’t want a future without you, Silco. I don’t care what comes, as long as I’m with you. Everything I’ve lived has led me to this moment, and here, with you, I feel complete. I don’t want to go anywhere without you. I love you."

Before you could say more, Silco took a step toward you and, with an unexpected delicacy, kissed you. The air around seemed to dissolve as the world, the chaos, the city itself faded away. In that moment, only he and you existed.

Just as the kiss ended, Jinx's loud laughter echoed through the greenhouse, followed by a strong "Ugh!" that interrupted the solemn silence. Sevika rolled her eyes, and you could only smile, knowing that Jinx was part of this world, a world you accepted with all its imperfections. The ceremony hadn’t ended, but the atmosphere felt lighter than ever.

After the ceremony, Silco took you to a private area of the greenhouse where the two of you could speak quietly. The tension in the room seemed to relax, but not for long. Soon, the sound of a fight reached your ears. Jinx and Sevika were arguing. Sevika, visibly upset, was complaining that Jinx had thrown something green at her, probably one of her "explosive things."

Silco, who usually ignored these altercations, stayed in his place, but you couldn’t just sit idly by. You stood up with determination, and with a firmness that even surprised Silco, you walked over to Jinx.

"Jinx," you said, your tone firm but not cruel. "That wasn’t funny. Don’t you know there are limits? If you don’t respect Sevika, you’re disrespecting everyone here."

Jinx, at first surprised, lowered her head, clearly understanding you had touched a sensitive nerve. In that moment, something changed in her. Without offering a single excuse, she looked at Sevika with an expression that was rarely seen on her, and said, albeit grudgingly:

"I guess I’m sorry," Jinx rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

Jinx’s attitude surprised everyone, especially Silco, who watched with a slight smile on his lips. Though he knew what that gesture meant, he couldn’t help but notice that, for the first time, Jinx was willing to be disciplined for something greater than herself.

Without wasting any time, you took Jinx’s hand and guided her to a nearby table where there was a chocolate cake, the one you had chosen because you knew she loved it. As you sat her down, your tone softened.

"What you did wasn’t okay, but we all make mistakes. Come, let’s eat this cake, alright? It’ll be our way of leaving it behind."

You looked at her, trying to ease the tension, and she, despite her mischievous nature, accepted with good grace, lost in the chocolate. Silco approached afterward, seeing how the two of you shared a calm moment, and let out a small laugh.

"You’re going to be a good mother," he said with a tone that, though almost dry, didn’t go unnoticed. The phrase left you in shock. The idea of being a mother had never crossed your mind in that context, especially with someone as complicated as Silco.

Before you could respond, Jinx, with her mouth full of cake, turned to Silco and, with all her innocence, said:

"Yes, I want a kid! One to teach him how to make explosives or something fun!"

Silco’s laughter was genuine, and though the situation was absurd, it was the kind of moment that felt perfect. Jinx, as always, without a filter, but with a pure heart in her madness.

Suddenly, Jinx didn’t stop, looking at Silco with intensity.

"Old man, when are you going to make that kid? I already have plans for us!"

Silco raised an eyebrow, clearly bewildered but, in his own way, entertained. "Yeah, sure, we’ll talk about that later," he said, as he moved to his next suggestion. "Why don’t you go accompany Sevika for now?"

Without thinking twice, Jinx quickly got up, hopping over to where Sevika was, no doubt ready to continue her mission of annoying her.

In that moment, you approached Silco, your gaze fixed on him. The question you had been holding in your heart came out in a whisper:

"Is it true what you said? Do you really think I’d be a good mother?"

The silence between the two of you was brief, but enough for him to take your hand gently, as if he didn’t want to break the magic of the moment.

"I know. You have everything it takes to do it. I just trust you."

The intensity of his gaze was all you needed to feel that, beyond the shadows both of you inhabited, there was a light. And that light was the love you shared, the promise of a future together.

In that moment, the greenhouse seemed to disappear, and only the two of you remained, surrounded by a future that no longer seemed so uncertain.

Mel

The hall glowed with a golden light, reflected in the intricate decorations that combined the opulence of Piltover with a personal and intimate touch. At the center, surrounded by a delicate crown of white and gold flowers, the portrait Mel had painted of you presided over the ceremony, a silent witness to your love.

Mel was radiant, wearing a black dress that hugged her body in clean, modern lines, with asymmetrical cuts that elegantly revealed glimpses of skin. The edges of the dress were finely outlined in gold, a nod to her lineage. Her makeup was subtle yet impeccable, with golden shadows that accentuated her dark eyes, and her hair, gathered in a high bun, was adorned with small golden pearls.

You wore a deep sapphire blue dress, with an elegant design that contrasted with the delicate opulence of the ceremony. Your accessories were simple, reflection of your individuality, fit perfectly with the aura of confidence you exuded.

When the time for the vows arrived, Mel took your hands and looked at you with an intensity that seemed to stop time. Her voice, low but firm, resonated with a sincerity that made everyone present hold their breath.

"With you, I have learned that control is not the only form of power. You have shown me that there is strength in surrender, and beauty in imperfection. I no longer want to live a life of rules and expectations; I want a life with you, full of adventures, challenges, and above all, love."

She paused, squeezing your hands slightly before continuing.

"I promise that I will never stop finding new ways to love you. Because with you, I have found something more valuable than anything I could ever possess: I have found the true meaning of freedom."

The emotion in her words made your eyes soften with love, but you held firm, knowing it was your turn.

"Mel, since I met you, I knew your soul shone with a light that no one else could match. You taught me that even in the midst of luxury and opulence, one can find humility and depth. With you, I have learned that love is the greatest adventure of all. I promise to stand by your side, not just in the easy days, but in the darkest ones, when the pressure of the world becomes unbearable. I will be your support, your confidant, and the person who will always remind you that you are more than enough."

The vows ended, but the silence that followed was charged with emotion. Mel leaned towards you, whispering only for you to hear:

"With you, I have found the only jewel that truly matters."

A smile of love crossed your face before you kissed her full lips.

As the guests toasted and immersed themselves in conversations, you felt Ambessa Medarda's gaze on you. The powerful matriarch approached with her imposing presence, each step radiating authority. She took advantage of the moment when Mel was speaking with an important politician. You mentally prepared yourself, knowing that any interaction with her required tact and firmness.

"I must admit, I didn't expect someone like you to capture my daughter's attention in this way," Ambessa began, with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "But Mel has always had a knack for seeing beyond appearances."

Her tone was sharp, like a carefully sheathed knife, ready to cut if the opportunity arose. However, you kept your composure, returning her gaze without blinking.

"Mel has seen something in me that perhaps others fail to understand," you responded calmly. "And I am grateful that, despite everything, she trusts what we have built together."

Ambessa raised an eyebrow, intrigued by your response, but before she could continue, you added: "And I know that, although our differences may seem vast, we both want the best for Mel. That will always be my priority."

For a brief moment, Ambessa's cold facade seemed to crack. She nodded slightly, acknowledging your strength and determination, before turning and walking away, leaving in the air a hint of hard-earned respect.

The music shifted to a slower rhythm, and Mel, with a gentle smile, extended her hand to you. "Shall we dance?" she asked, her voice a whisper only you could hear.

You accepted, letting her guide you to the center of the floor. All eyes were on you both, but at that moment, only the two of you existed. Mel wrapped her arms around you, her movements fluid and graceful. The warmth of her body, the softness of her touch, completely enveloped you.

The music seemed to weave a spell around you. Each step, each turn, was a non-verbal declaration of love, a choreography of synchronized hearts. At one point, Mel drew you even closer, her lips brushing your ear as she whispered: "You make all of this make sense. With every step, I feel my life takes on a new meaning. I am so happy."

Your lips curved into a smile, and your response was a simple, yet emotionally charged, "That will always be my goal." You kissed the tip of her nose with a tenderness impossible not to envy.

After the dance, you both retreated to a room to share a moment of tranquility away from curious eyes.

Suddenly, an idea crossed her mind, and with a mischievous smile, she proposed: "What do you think about doing something completely ours, away from all of this?"

Surprised, but intrigued, you asked: "What do you have in mind?"

Mel winked at you. "Something spontaneous. Tomorrow early, let's escape together. Let Piltover take a break from us while we lose ourselves in the unknown. A day just for us, without titles or expectations."

The plan seemed reckless, but also perfect. This wasn’t typical of Mel, which intrigued you even more to see this new side of her. You nodded, feeling a new wave of excitement. "I love the idea. Let’s do it."

The location was a small corner of Zaun, a place that had often served as a refuge for both of you after difficult nights. The walls, covered with moss and vines, gave a sense of intimacy that only this place could offer. There were no flowers or extravagant decorations, only the soft light from a few lamps that you had brought, just enough to illuminate your faces.

Sevika

The ceremony was simple, almost improvised, but not any less meaningful. Sevika and you had decided to keep it a secret, just the two of you and the person who officiated the ceremony, someone who knew well the value of discretion.

Sevika wore a simple black shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, revealing her mechanical arm, as if there was nothing to hide, as if that arm was just another part of who she was.

On the other hand, you wore a red princess-cut dress, an unusual choice, but one you made to mark the importance of the day. The skirt was wide and flowing, but you opted for sturdy boots instead of the traditional heels, a practical reminder that you were always ready for any eventuality. Around your neck, a black silk scarf hung gracefully, adding a touch of sophistication, but also a hidden utility that only you knew about.

The person who officiated the ceremony stayed in the background, allowing both of you to take control of the moment. There were no scripts or elaborate promises, just sincere words, the ones that truly mattered.

Sevika took your hand in hers, her grip firm yet gentle, and when she spoke, it was in a low, deep voice that seemed to resonate in the space around you.

“I’m not good with words,” she began, her eyes fixed on yours, “but I know what I want. And what I want is for you to be by my side, today and always.”

There were no embellishments in her words, but each one carried a weight that you felt deeply. It was her way of saying she loved you, even though she never put it into so many words. It was Sevika, in her purest form, without filters, without masks.

When it was your turn, you took a deep breath, trying to find the right words, though you knew there was no need for perfection in that moment.

“I know we never planned this, but what I feel for you doesn’t need plans,” you said, your voice trembling slightly but filled with emotion. “I want to be with you, Sevika. Through all the battles, through every moment of calm, I want us to keep being us, facing whatever comes, together.”

The silence that followed was brief but significant, a moment in which both of you processed what you had just said, what you had just promised.

The person who married you barely whispered the necessary words to seal your union. There were no grand speeches, no tears, just a mutual understanding, an unspoken agreement that this was the right thing.

When everything was over, Sevika leaned toward you and, with a barely visible smile on her lips, whispered:

“See? We didn’t even need a ring to make this real.”

But before you could complain, she pulled out a small box from her pocket, and from it, a dark metal ring with a large diamond in it, fitting perfectly on your finger.

You admired it with emotion, Sevika knew about your obsession with jewelry, especially when they looked so exotic and expensive.

“I promised, didn’t I? I told you it would be a diamond,” she said, and this time, you couldn’t help but smile widely.

The kiss that followed was a fiery whirlwind, nothing calm or passive. You two were fire. Impossible magnets to separate once united.

As you pulled apart, Sevika looked at you with a seriousness you knew well. “Silco is waiting for us. It’s not the best time, I know, but we have to go.”

You nodded, understanding the urgency. It wasn’t unusual for missions to arise at the most inconvenient times, and this time would be no different.

Sevika adjusted the strap on her mechanical arm, quickly checking to make sure everything was in place.

Sevika looked you up and down and smiled slightly. “You’re going to break more than a few bones today, doll. Those idiots will drool over you, over my wife.”

You almost groaned when she called you her wife; it felt so good to know you belonged completely to her.

“You’ll drool over me later, I’ll make sure of that,” you replied with a playful smile, while adjusting your scarf.

“That remains to be seen,” she murmured, before offering you her normal arm. “Let’s go.”

The night enveloped you as you headed toward the place Silco had indicated. The city was dark, and the air was thick with a tension that could only presage trouble. But that was your life, and in a way, that constant state of alertness was what kept you both alive.

The mission took you to the outskirts, to one of the most dangerous areas controlled by Silco’s enemies. The information was vague, but enough to know you were up against an armed group that wouldn’t surrender easily.

Upon arrival, you found yourselves in an ambush. Enemies emerged from the shadows, armed and ready to attack. Sevika reacted with the speed of a predator, her mechanical arm glinting in the dim light as she blocked the first attack. You, for your part, pulled out a small device from your scarf, a clever invention of yours that released a dense cloud of smoke, disorienting your attackers.

The battle was fierce. Sevika fought with a mix of brute strength and precision, using her mechanical arm to clear a path through the enemies. You moved with agility, seizing every opportunity to disarm opponents with quick and precise movements. It was like you were dancing a deadly choreography, each of you complementing the other perfectly.

At one point, one of the attackers managed to corner you, his knife gleaming in the dim light as he lunged toward you. But before he could reach you, Sevika appeared out of nowhere, grabbing him and slamming him to the ground with a force that knocked him unconscious instantly.

“Are you okay, doll?” she asked, her deep voice full of concern.

“Yes, thanks to you,” you replied, out of breath but determined.

The fight ended shortly after, leaving both sides exhausted but intact. The mission was complete, and once again, you had survived together.

Sevika looked at you with a mix of admiration and relief. “You never stop surprising me,” she murmured, before lifting you in her arms, a combination of strength and tenderness that made you feel safe even in that hostile environment.

“I should say the same about you. Come on, take me home, my big and strong wife,” you replied, resting your head on her shoulder as she carried you out of harm’s way.

The contrast between the battle you had just fought and the sweetness of the moment couldn’t have been more perfect. There, in Sevika’s arms, with your red dress stained but intact, you felt that everything was perfect.

487 notes · View notes

alg3a · 2 months ago

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hellooo your smuts brought me back from the grave and if you’re taking any requests, i would love to see your take on a jayce x fem reader. i kind of want to see a shy student scenario with a pervy student jayce 😩 omg pls tell me you see the vision lol!

hello! YESSS i definitely see the vision, i hope i executed it alright! thank you so much for this request. i was sort of worried at first because i don’t typically write for jayce alone—normally i just write jayvik or viktor—but this was SOOOO much fun! probably actually my favorite of the three fics i have so far. hope you enjoy!

staring

pervy!jayce x innocent!f!reader

3.9k, MDNI, no use of y/n

description: After setting eyes on the handsome boy in your lecture, and staring at him every class after that, you find out that your father has sponsored his research and invited him to dinner. After a particularly frustrating meal, you run upstairs to your room, not expecting him to follow you.

warnings: nsfw, fem receiving oral, pervy jayce, innocent/inexperienced reader, sneaky sex, equal bits plot and porn i think, jayce covers readers mouth, creampie, hooray!

a/n: this is my first ever request! i hope i did it some justice. if you like it, feel free to send your own request! i don’t have guidelines yet, but chances are i’ll writer whatever you suggest.

The first time you saw him was across the circular lecture hall and you were quickly drawn in, fixated on every tiny movement of his. You didn’t even notice that you were staring until you realized he caught you. It was near impossible not to look at him, with his wide ambitious eyes and even wider shoulders, he was a difficult sight to steer away from. That didn’t make it any less embarrassing when he noticed your lingering gaze.

The position he caught you in was so juvenile and schoolgirl-esque that it seemed only fitting for a bright pink blush to span your face. You had a palm against your cheek, your head slightly tilted, and your bottom lip was caught between your front teeth. Your right leg crossed your leg and the suspended foot swung in tiny little distracted circles below your desk.

When his eyes landed on yours, his eyebrows furrowed a bit. Not out of anger, more like he was trying to focus his gaze on you to see whether or not you were really staring at him. Then a little smile crept onto his lips around the same time you had realized that he had caught you and you instantly averted your gaze. You tried not to look at him again during lecture, but whenever the professor in the center of the circular lecture hall crossed in front of him, your eyes stayed behind and you allowed yourself a glance in his direction.

You wondered how you hadn’t noticed him before. Perhaps this was the first time he sat in that spot so far this semester. If that was the case, it certainly wasn’t the last time he sat there. For the next few weeks, he was amongst the first students to arrive in lecture and always made sure to secure that exact same seat, not one to the left, right, or above. You’d never seen anybody be so particular about a seat in lecture before. Not even you, who had a penchant for patterns and regulation.

Each passing class only stoked your burning obsession with this boy, whose name you didn’t even know. It got so bad that you had difficulty paying attention in class some days, which was totally unlike you. You were a perfect student, always dedicated and responsible in school, so why now? Why this one pretty boy in one silly lecture?

Your father wasn’t happy when you let him know you received a C on your midterm.

You came from an upper house in Piltover and you were your parents’ only daughter. There was an absurd amount of pressure on you to uphold the standards so eloquently listed by your older siblings and your parents.

“How will it affect your class grade?” Your mother asks sensibly, her voice low and polite and she sets out her favorite dishes from the china cabinet.

“Well, it’s not good,” you begin to say, ready to explain how what really matters is your final project and the final assessment, how they’re weighted more heavily, but your father interrupts.

“Not good?” He chortles, spread out in his armchair the room over. “Abhorrent is more like it!”

“Dad,” you begin to plead, but you are once again interrupted.

“Enough! I’ll look into a tutor and you will spend your time studying and asking your professor for extra credit.”

You hated when he did this. You weren’t a kid anymore, if you wanted a tutor you’d ask a classmate or a TA, and you had read your syllabus enough to know that your professor didn’t afford extra credit to his students. You were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself in school…or at least that’s what you thought. After all, if a silly crush on a stranger in lecture was enough to tank your grades, were you really all that capable?

You could’ve argued with your dad, but decided against it. It was almost time for dinner and you didn’t want to ruin your appetite with a fight.

“Go get dressed, dear, we’re having a guest for dinner tonight,” your mother said, changing the tone of the conversation.

“Who?” You asked, realizing that she was taking the good china out for a reason.

“One of the students that your father has decided to sponsor.”

Oh, that’s right. The academy just had their Innovation Gala, in which the young inventors of Piltover are given the opportunity to wow rich folks with their ideas in hopes of receiving some funding. Your father had been extending his fortune to students since you were very young. He saw them more as business opportunities than as students.

“Well, who are they?”

“A bright young man,” your father said, his mood instantly lightening. “Lots of promise. A grade or two above you, I believe.”

You think of the inventors you’ve met at the academy as you go upstairs to your bedroom to change, wondering who the guest will be.

You slip into a knee-length powder blue dress and a soft white sweater. You’re brushing your hair when you hear the doorbell ring from downstairs. Muffled exchanges between your parents and the mystery guest pass through your closed bedroom door. You’re applying your lipgloss and staring into your vanity when your mind begins to wander. You can’t get your mind off of the boy from lecture. Would he like this shade of lipgloss? Would he like your dress, your sweater, your shoes, your hair…

Your father shouts your name from downstairs. “Come down, it’s time for dinner!”

You sheath your lipgloss and straighten out your dress before heading downstairs. You're halfway down the spiral staircase before you can see tonight’s guest, and when you do, you aren’t sure you have enough strength in your legs to keep walking down.

He calls your name again, this time wearing a smile on his mouth. Your father had a tendency to turn into a jovial old man when around people that weren’t you or your family.

“Come, meet Jayce,” he says, his arm wrapped around the boy from your lecture.

You only realize how hard you're gripping the railing once you reach the bottom of the stairs. You force a polite smile past your agape expression and walk toward your father and the boy. Your father is by no means a short man, but the boy towers over him. It’s impossible not to pay attention to how his dress shirt clings to his chest, or how the collar wraps neatly around his strong neck, leaving a glimpse of his bobbing Adam’s apple.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you hold out your hand and he takes it, gingerly. He brings it to his lips, kissing the back of it softly as his eyes remain on yours.

“The pleasure is all mine,” he says, shooting a flaming arrow straight through your thudding heart. “Correct me if I’m mistaken, but we have a class together, don’t we?”

Wonderful. Not only would you have to play polite with this handsome stranger, you’d have to endure the rest of the night knowing he’d caught you staring at him with bright doe eyes in the middle of class. How ironic that the boy responsible for your sinking grades would be seated beside your father tonight at dinner.

“Oh, I think you’re right,” you smile, eyes widening in feigned surprise. “Applied physics?”

“Yes, that’s the one,” he says, finally releasing your hand just as it’s about to get clammy from your excitement and anxiety. He claps your father on the back. “Your daughter is a marvel in that class, really. She’s constantly answering questions and asking even more insightful ones.”

A lie? Why?

“Is that so?” Your father asks, seemingly forgetting his prior rage at your subpar grade.

Jayce nods as your father leads you all to the dining room, where your two older brothers are already sitting. Your father takes his seat at the head of the table, your mother at the opposite end. You sit between him and Jayce, across from your brothers.

For a while, Jayce spends some time introducing himself to the two boys across from you, entertaining their small talk and questions about whatever invention sparked our father’s interest at the gala. You couldn’t focus much on the details, too distracted by the fact that your lecture crush was seated beside you in your own home, at the dinner table you’ve been eating at for twenty years. He spoke so eloquently, so politely that you thought for a second that he might have overlooked your embarrassing moment in lecture so many days ago. Perhaps it hadn’t lived in his head the same way it had haunted you.

The maids brought out the food and you began to eat. You sipped on champagne and did your best to avert your gaze from Jayce, but he got in the way of that attempt.

“So tell me,” he said, turning his attention to you, “how do you like physics?”

How did you like physics? What sort of a question was that?

“It’s a good class,” you say, simply. “I like the professor’s lecture style, it’s very…personal. I detest professors who just read from the notes and expect it to resonate.”

“Right, I’ve noticed how closely you pay attention in that class.”

It takes every ounce of self-collection you have not to choke on your champagne. Was he teasing you? Was that his way of secretly calling you out for ogling at him for every minute of the hour-long lecture?

No, you must be paranoid. Maybe he really meant it, after all he had already oversold your attentiveness in that class once tonight.

“Yes, right.”

“Truly,” he says, and you risk looking over at him beside you. “You look so enamored. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were daydreaming…lost in fantasies.”

You set your glass down with a slam.

“Mind your manners, darling,” your mother says as you collect your thoughts.

“Sorry,” you say shakily, dabbing at the splattered drink on the tablecloth with your napkin.

You hurry to finish your meal as your father changes the subject, discussing some stupid business matter of his. You can’t hear anything over the pounding of your heart in its cage. Once your dish is empty, you set your utensils down and look pointedly at your father.

“May I be excused?”

“Sweetheart, don’t be rude,” he says, his eyebrows straightening into a firm line. “We have a guest.”

“Oh, I know, I’m sorry. It’s just that…I have an assignment to work on and I really don’t want my grades to slip any further.” You lie, avoiding Jayce’s eyes, although you feel them boring into the back of your head as you look at your father.

“Very well,” he says, with a wave of his hand. “You may be excused.”

You slam your napkin on the table and walk hurriedly up the stairs. You shut your door with a slam louder than you meant, but you can’t concern yourself with that now. You lay face down in your four-post bed and throw the sweater off of your arms before screaming into a pillow.

Cruel! He was just being cruel. If your staring in class hadn’t made your crush obvious, surely your behavior tonight had sold you out. Stupid, stupid, stupid! You groan out into the pillow before a slight creak of your door snaps you out of your fit.

You turn over, expecting to see your father and already thinking of ways to explain your current exasperated position, but it’s not him.

“What are you doing in my room?” You ask, coming to a seated position with your legs bent ever so slightly atop your ivory comforter.

“You mean, this isn’t the restroom?” Jayce asks, a small smirk on his mouth as he walks slowly toward you like a predator about to pounce. “I guess I didn’t follow your mother’s directions very well.”

“What are you doing?” You ask again.

He laughs and shrugs his shoulders. “Cute room.” He looks around for a moment before his gaze falls back on you, lying so delicately on your bed, just waiting… “Pretty close to what I imagined.”

“What you imagined?” You repeat, seemingly only able to ask questions right now.

“Mhm,” he says, finally reaching the edge of your bed. He stands over you, looming like a tower, preventing any light from reaching you. “Can you blame me? I’ve seen how you look at me during lectures.” He pauses to laugh. “You’d think I was the one lecturing the way you stare, and stare, and stare…”

“That’s not–” you try to defend yourself, but you can’t. You have no reason, no explanation, no excuse. No words.

“I don’t mind,” he says, his smile widening. “It’s cute. The way you cross and uncross your legs when I catch you looking. Oh but before that, when you’re resting your cheek on your hand and tilting your pretty little head… that’s the best.”

You look at him like he’s insane, and part of you thinks he actually might be. But the other part…

“Tell me,” he says, his knee resting on the edge of the bed, positioned for him to climb onto it if only you would just give the word. “What do you think about when you’re staring at me?”

“Jayce…” you mutter breathlessly, unsure whether or not you should say.

He leans over your sprawled out body and puts a delicate finger beneath your chin.

“You can tell me,” he smiles, his eyes betraying his true desire. “Chances are, I’ve had the same ideas.”

“I’ve,” you utter, barely able to get the words out as he pushes your head up ever so slightly, forcing you to make clearer eye contact with him. “I’ve thought about…”

Thinking those thoughts is one thing, but saying them out loud is completely different. It’s impossible.

“Use your words, honey,” he says, stroking your bottom lips with the calloused pad of his thumb, as if he were trying to coax the dirty words out.

“About laying on your table…in the empty lecture hall…”

“And?”

“And you’d…” you sigh, exasperated. Somehow trying to utter this sentence took more out of you than running a mile would. “You’d have your head…between my thighs.”

“Would I be tasting you, sweetheart?” He asks, a grin spreading across his face, revealing sharp canines. A new thought crept into your mind. What would those teeth feel like dragging your panties off? What would they feel like biting your thigh, or your neck?

“Yes,” you whisper, embarrassed of your own admission, although he pried it from your pretty, glossy pink lips. “Yes you’d be tasting me…”

“Attagirl,” he says, removing his hand from your chin and his knee from your bed.

For a moment, you aren’t sure what he’s going to do. Would he take this admission and run out of your room with it? Would he tell your parents? Would he tell his friends? Would you go to school the next day, the laughing stock of the academy?

He drops to his knees.

Your breath halts as his hands land on your knees, his eyes gazing up at you over the crest of the side of your mattress. His calloused palms rub the soft skin of your thighs, upward bound.

“Jayce?” You ask, knots in your stomach.

“I was right,” he says, the path his hands taking never ceasing. “We have had the same idea.”

He pushes up the fabric of your powder blue dress, pulling you slightly off of the bed so that his lips can find the inside of your thighs. He leaves soft kisses along them.

You watch as his hungry amber eyes flicker up, landing on your soft pink panties.

“Fuck,” he mutters against the plush skin of your thigh.

He pushes your thighs apart and pulls you closer by your hips. His nose presses against the wet spot on your panties and he takes a deep, slow breath. You watch as his eyes flicker shut, relishing the scent of you so close to him. The sight only makes you wetter.

“God, you smell so fucking good,” he groans. He flicks his tongue out and licks the fabric of your panties, leaving a damp spot. You twitch against the wet sensation, your thighs closing a bit but his hands are faster. He holds them down as he continues to tease you through the fabric.

“Jayce…” you begin to start your reprimand, ready to tell him to stop teasing you and just dive in, to eat you out like he’s starving, but you can’t utter any word other than, “please.”

“Please what, baby?” He asks, looking up with that wicked grin of his. “Use your words, remember?”

“Please…please taste me…”

You feel utterly deprecated just saying such dirty things to a man you only just officially met, but if the fantasies in your head were worth anything, you two were intimately acquainted by now. And to Jayce…well those fantasies seemed to be worth a lot.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he says, his hands sliding up your thighs to pull down the fabric separating his tongue from your pleasure. He’s quick to push your thighs back down again, regaining his control of your trembling body.

He makes sure he’s watching you when he administers his first slow, tantalizing lick. His eyes are hooded and hungry, and his hunger translates well.

“Oh my god…” you whimper as he tastes you.

He picks up speed, his tongue slicing through your folds and spending lots of time at your quivering clit. He licks and sucks and slobbers like he hasn’t had a meal in years, which you know to not be true. Such an appetite.

“Jayce,” you whimper, pleading, begging, but for what you do not know.

He moans against your clit as you say his name, the precious sound of your debased voice striking a delicate chord within him. The vibration of his moan against your core makes your back arch, and his eyes dart back up to you, to watch you suffer under his pleasure.

“I think–I think I’m close,” you whisper, breathlessly as your hands grab at the sheets above your head. You look so pretty, stretched out and suspended like that, your arms hanging above your head and your legs thrown out on either side of Jayce’s blur of dark hair and sharp features.

“Let it out, sweetheart,” Jayce muffles against you, his assault on your quivering clit not letting up one bit. ��Let me hear it.”

You whine and squeal and thrash against his face, his hands squeezing hard to keep your thighs down so he can continue his job. You reach for his hair, just to have something solid to grab onto in your ecstasy, and he moans at the rough tug, the vibrations topping off your climax as your arched back grounds itself against your sheets again, descending alongside you.

He’s still hungry, and he hardly allows you any time to recover from your first orgasm, something you didn’t experience very often, especially not from the mouth of a man. Already, he’s climbing atop you, unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down to reveal his long, fully hardened cock. You reach out with unsteady fingers to unbutton his fancy dress shirt, admiring the way it’s already gathered wrinkles from his rowdy behavior between your legs.

Now you’re equally dishevelled. Your lip gloss has been rubbed off by your hungry bites at your lip and his mouth shines with your arousal and his own spit. Your dress is polled up over your hips and his own shirt barely clings to his arms in its unbuttoned state. Your hair pools out beneath you and his still bears the marks of your tugging.

It’s heaven for Jayce to see you like this. He’s spent weeks admiring the prim and proper put together little rich girl across the lecture hall, imagining what she would look like fucked out beneath him, screaming his name and abandoning all manners. He wants to ruin you, and he will.

His lips crash against yours, your arousal and his spit providing you with new lip gloss. His tongue betrays his hunger, crashing against yours, pushing it aside as he explores each corner of your little mouth. All the while, his hands are creeping up your soft stomach and resting on your breasts beneath his heavy, muscled torso.

“Jayce, I want you…I want you inside me,” you mutter, gaining some boldness at the sight of his craving.

He doesn’t even have the strength to muster a reply. He intends on saving all of his energy for destroying your cute little cunt. He grabs his cock, pumping it a few times to spill out the precum resting on his tip. He aligns it with your tight entrance and spreads your arousal over it to provide aid in jamming it into you.

“Fuck!” You shout into his broad shoulder. “Oh fuck!”

He didn’t expect such naughty words to rip from your innocent little throat, but he delights in your reaction to him stretching you.

He rocks his hips in and out of you, slowly at first, but even he can’t hold himself back just for the sake of torturing you. He ruts into you, pathetic, needy. His body presses down onto you, your chest smushed against his as he leans on his forearm beside your head. He groans out at each desperate thrust into your tight cunt.

You’re no better. Your legs are wrapped around his waist, pulling him ever closer and deeper into you. Each kiss of his tip to your cervix elicits a loud whine from you, echoing through your room. Your ornate decorations and pristine shelves now act as a shallow veneer. You’re not so clean anymore. Not so innocent.

“Oh Jayce,” you moan breathily. “Just like that! Oh fuck!”

You’re a mess beneath him, muttering slutty little words that rise and fall in volume as his thrusts punctuate them. Jayce is so lost in pleasure that it takes him a minute to realize that your volume has become an issue.

He brings a hand over your mouth, the other arm still acting as support as he rests on his forearm. You taste the salt of his skin on his palm as he presses it to your soft lips.

“You make such pretty noises for me,” Jayce says softly, a groan interrupting his syllables every so often. “And you sound so good but you gotta be quiet, baby.”

Despite his words, his thrusts don’t soften and his grip on your mouth remains. Your moans continue, quietly, muffled against his strong hand. To prevent himself from moaning too loud, he bites down on your shoulder. Hard. It’s enough to send you over the edge, the pain rippling through your skin and down to your core.

You can tell he’s close too, by the way his bite hardens and his hips jut mercilessly into you. Your legs begin to tremble and you tilt your head back, your back arching off of the bed to press even closer against his chest.

He replaces his hand with his mouth, which does an equally good job of shutting you up. With a final rut of his hips into your cunt, he stifles a groan against your lips and you feel yourself filling with his seed. Your muscles relax, your toes uncurling and your chest resuming its breathing.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his head leading the fall onto the bed beside you. His hand wraps around your waist and he administers a final kiss to your forehead. “That was…”

“Just how you imagined it?”

“Better.”

#arcane smut #fem reader #jayce talis #jayce x reader #smut #arcane #noooo jayce slander. i stand with my cancelled wife!!!

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bitchface24-7 · 1 day ago

Text

PLEASANT COMPLIANCE - JAYVIK X READER

Inspired by @newgipestel and their amazing ideas for a PT2, thank them as well for this masterpiece

synopsis: things have changed between you three. Cole is long gone, but the three of you have been separated against your will. Jayce with the council, you with sponsors, and Viktor with Heimerdinger or working solo in the lab. So when the three of you have a weekend to yourselves, you take it. Your apartment is yours only now, and you’ve missed your boys desperately.

warnings: this is smut y’all, pre-established relationship, teasing, dirty talk, degradation, praise, dom!viktor, switch!jayce, sex toys, dp, unsafe sex, breeding kink, creampie, squirting, oral sex (f receiving), y’all this is filthy LMAO, grammarly is my beta

genre: m/m/f

p.s. y’all this was a blast to write, I know y’all loved PT1 so I hope PT2 tickles your fancy as well. Oh to be the meat in the Jayvik sandwich 😩

PART 1

Waking up naked on the ruined lab couch was not part of your plans, but who are you to complain? You finally broke up with your shitty boyfriend Cole, got your back blown out by the two men you've had a crush on since forever, and they reciprocate those feelings.

Unfortunately, y'all have a gala to return back to. You've been gone for almost an hour now and people are going to wonder where you've been. Good thing you have some spare makeup lying around in the lab.

The three of you don't have the healthiest sleep schedule, so quite often one, two, or all three of you sleep in the lab at some point. Having backup makeup, a small bottle of perfume, and spare clothes lying around make life much easier. Your two boys are slowly redressing as you make your way to a simple mirror hanging on the wall.

You're a mess.

Your hair's a mess, your makeup is almost all gone, and a few hickey's grace your neck. You scan your body and find hand-shaped bruises on your hips. That's going to hurt in the morning, but it'll be worth it.

Reapplying your makeup and fixing your hair to the best of your ability, you put your dress back on. A cold hand touches your lower back as the zipper slides up effortlessly, it's Viktor.

"It's quite a shame to see those lovely marks disappear." His tone is dark as the words smoothly leave his lips in a quiet purr. You bit the inside of your cheek and look at him over your shoulder, "You can see them again later."

"Promise?" Jayce asks, his tone light and full of teasing. You roll your eyes fondly at the broad man, "Promise."

The three of you exit the lab and head back to the gala, back to the snake pit to get what you need. You need money. You need sponsers.

So that's what you're going to get.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The next morning was hectic. Frantically running around your empty apartment to get ready for the day.

Back to your usual outfits yet you look better than over. Having the toxic ex out of your life has made you glow (getting your back blown out last night obviously doesn't have anything to do with it) you can't help but smile at your reflection in the mirror. Its been a while since you've seen her, and you're happy to see her again.

Unfortunately, you won't be able to see your boys for a while. You have a multitude of meetings to attend as you got many sponsors last night after your lab time with your lovers.

Hopefully everything goes to plan.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It does not go to plan. You thought that even with all of your meetings, you'd still be able to see your boys.

You haven't.

You try. Damn do you try. You go to the lab as often as you can. Teasing looks, lingering touches, long kisses, until something pops up.

Another meeting.

Another council gathering.

More work from Heimerdinger.

Prototypes that need to be made.

Equations and runes to explore.

Work.

And even more work.

All three of you can feel the tension rising. You feel overly hot around them. Your thighs tensing together, your bottom lip bit to inflammation, your eyes wandering to places they shouldn't in polite society.

Viktor and Jayce are just the exact same way.

So when the three of you have a free weekend together, you snatch it up as fast as you possibly can.

Fuck everyone else, you three need to fuck each other, now.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Getting to your apartment felt like the blink of an eye. Before you knew it you were getting pushed into your apartment as Jayce kissed you desperately, Viktor casual walks in after you two and shuts the door; locking it behind him.

Jayce groans pathetically into your mouth as you ruck his shift up and rip it apart. Buttons flying everywhere, Jayce gasps in shock as you leave his mouth to kiss down his throat, biting and nipping along your path to get to his chest.

His big eyes are watery and his face is flushed. He looks even prettier debauched as he does in his day-to-day life.

“Stop.” Viktor demands, his voice monotone and sharp. Jayce whines as you pull away, your lips puffy and pouty.

Viktor walks up to you and runs a hand down your back before cupping your waist in a bruising grip, over the pre-existing bruises from the previous night. You hiss lightly at the pleasurable pain and Viktor just smirks, “Good girl. Now, shall you lead us to your room?”

You can't help but nod excitedly, and lead them down the small hallway to your large bedroom. They can't help but admire the decor. It's all… you. The one thing they can't ignore is how large your bed is. It’s too big for one person.

But perfect for three.

Before you realize what's going on, Viktor pushes Jayce into the bed. The larger man bounces a bit as a bewildered smile overtakes his face, “Would you like for her to sit on your face Jayce? You've been pining and whining over this tidbit for the last week. So desperate, so needy.”

Jayce nods rapidly and you just giggle, taking your pants and underwear off leaving your bra and blouse on. You get onto the bed, put your legs on each side of Jayce's head and hover a bit, not wanting to squish him.

You don't get a choice as Jayce grips your hips and forces you down, his mouth immediately suckling onto your clit as his beard rubs deliciously against your thighs. God, everything’s been so busy that Jayce hasn't had the time to groom himself like he usually does. Neither you or Viktor are complaining, his longer hair and beard make him even more attractive.

The whiny moans that escape you make you want to hide your face but Viktor doesn't let you, kissing you passionately as he lecherously fondles your tits over your bra. Eventually, he shucks your top off and takes your bra off with one hand. You're completely nude as your two boys devour you.

Your orgasm slowly creeps up and before you know it stars overtake your vision as you gasp out your lover's names. Viktor looks pleased, Jayce looks pussy drunk.

You're just out of breath.

You slowly get off Jayce and lie down on your plush bed, Viktor ever the ambitious one, takes his own top and vest off and joins you on the bed, pinning you down as he recolours the faded marks on your neck and chest.

“You did say I'd get to see them later.” He teases, his eyes glittery as he looks at you, a coy smirk on his pink lips.

“That I did.”

He redoes the marks from a week ago and adds a few more, just cause. What a possessive man.

“Jayce,” Viktor starts, his tone demanding but kind, “See if she has any lube. It's been a while, and I don't want her to be in any unnecessary pain.”

Jayce just nods and goes to your bedside drawer, you're too invested in Viktors plush lips to notice whats going on.

A small gasp is heard as Jayce looks over his shoulder to stare at you two, then before you can ask whats wrong, Jayce takes the drawer out of its spot and dumps the contents out onto the bed.

Lube, vibrators, dildos, a flogger, handcuffs, silk ties, butt plugs, toys galore.

Jayce looks shocked, Viktor looks intrigued.

You want to die.

“Oh? What's this?” Viktor asks, his voice full of sweet teasing. He picks up a multitude of toys, looking at them like puzzles he needs to solve. Jayce looks curious too.

“Well—” you start, sitting up onto your elbows as Viktor straddles you, “You know how… unhappy I was with Cole.”

Jayce and Viktor grumble and grimace at the mans name. Yes, they know.

“It extended into the bedroom.” Viktor plainly states, you nod and Jayce scoffs.

“Of course it did. Man was too insecure about us being friends to even properly please you.”

“What a shame. Sucks to be him.”

“Guys!”

Viktor and Jayce just snicker as you fail to look angry at them. Damn them. They're too loveable to stay mad at. Especially since now, they both look so excited at the prospect of using your toys, particularly Jayce. You swear you can envision puppy ears perking up and a tail wagging vigorously.

“So… this changes our plans.” Viktor casually states as he continues to look at your toys, Jayce smirks, and you just feel confused flusteredness, “What do you mean?”

“Well… now we have more options, don't we? One you were going to keep hidden from us.” Viktor’s causal tone gets darker, sensual. You can't help but feel your face heat up.

Jayce adds in, “How naughty! What're you thinking Vik?”

“I’m thinking doing something we haven't done yet.” He teases as he holds up your jewelled buttplug. The jewel looks strikingly similar to a hexgem. Viktor's smirk widens at that realization.

Your eyes widen. Oh… Oh. He wants…

Before you can finish your thought, Jayce excitedly adds, “At once or at the same time?”

“Same time.”

You choke, lightly pounding your chest, “Can we all get on the same page? Same hole or… separate?” Jayce and Viktor look at one another and chuckle.

“Separate. For now, Don’t want to overwhelm you. It's been a while since we've had sex. Jayce, which hole would you like?”

“… Anal.”

“Oooh look at you Golden Boy. Kinkier than we thought. Wanna prep her?”

“Uh, hell yeah! Viktor lay down, babe get on top of him.” Viktor quirks a brow at the demand but follow's through, as do you. You help Viktor out of his bottoms and appreciate how hung he is. Honestly it's a bit intimidating, if you haven't gotten accustomed to his size you'd be a bit scared. Luckily for you, Jayce prepped you quite well his his mouth and fingers.

You slowly sink down onto Viktor's cock and hiss lightly, the stretch delicious but a bit painful with a dull sting. Viktor groans as his head tilts back. Jayce whines watching you two. He goes for your bottle of lube and pops the cap open, the snap of the bottle is almost deafening in the room.

Jayce warms the lube up in his hand and circles his finger around your rim. You whine a bit at the unfamiliar feeling, Viktor shushes you and kisses your temple, reaching down with a free hand to rub your clit.

Simultaneously Jayce inserts one finger. You whine louder and Viktor rubs your clit a bit faster, Jayce slowly pumps his finger in your ass. The feeling is a bit strange, but you're enjoying it.

This continues on a bit before Jayce adds more lube to his hand and adds a second finger, eventually he adds a third. You're panting at how overwhelmed your body is. All you can feel in immeasurable amounts of pleasure. Jayce then adds his cock into the equation, he slowly pushes in and Viktor rubs your clit harshly. You feel Jayce's happy-trail against you ass as he fully sheaths, and you cum.

The feeling of being stuffed, Viktor and Jayce praising you, the vigorous rubbing of your clit. You were done for.

Jayce whines, "Fuck. It's so tight. Vik, I can feel your cock against mine."

A chuckle is all you hear before a sharp thrust jolts against your hips. A precise hit to your g-spot makes you and Jayce moan loudly. Slowly the two men pick up their pace, Viktor's inside your pussy, then Jayce is inside your ass. You're never not stuffed.

Your just trapped in for the ride, panting heavily as your eyes roll to the back of your head. All you can hear are your boys' praising and degrading you at the same time.

"You're doing so good for us darling, so tight, so lovely. So perfect."

"Fuck babe, this is amazing."

"But look at how slutty you are? All these toys, these fantasies that you were going to hide from us. Turns out you aren't a good girl, you're a slut. A whore."

"Our personal slut though, Vik."

"Of course Jayce, of course."

The two men kiss as you're squished in between them. A guttural moan escapes your chest, loud and desperate, and you cum for a third time. You jolt and shake as you squirt over Viktor's cock, small splashes hitting his happy trail and lean stomach. Viktor groans against Jayce's lips as he harshly thrusts his hips into yours, getting balls deep before cumming inside you. God he's cum so much you can feel a small line escaping you and rolling down Viktor's cock onto the bed.

Jayce whines loudly and pulls away from Viktor, gripping your hips harshly as he pounds into your ass. Your moans become more and more whiny as the pitch of your voice gets higher and higher. Eventually Jayce groans deeply and cums inside your ass. He grinds his hips deeply into yours as he drags out his orgasm.

He pulls out slowly, gripping your ass as he pulls your cheeks apart. He appreciates the state he and Viktor left you in. You've flopped down onto Viktor's chest, face down ass up. You're panting as you sloppily kiss Viktor's neck and chest. Leaving more hickeys into the beautiful freckled skin.

You gasp when you feel a bit of a cold feeling enter your ass, keeping you full. You look over your shoulder and all you see in Jayce smirking at you.

"Not gonna let all my hard work go to waste, especially when Vik hasn't had the chance to feel your ass yet."

You laugh in shock.

These two men are going to kill you.

(Thank god you broke up with Cole.)

I VOLUNTER! I VOLUNTEER! *GASP*!WHO SAID THAT?! IT DEFINITELY WASN’T ME 🫣😩😏 hope y'all enjoy this PT2 xoxo ❤️

#arcane #viktor arcane #jayce talis #arcane imagine #arcane x reader #arcane smut #jayvik x reader #jayvik x reader smut #fem!reader #banners by cafekitsune

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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months ago

Note

hey, i really enjoyed reading your angst drabbles and i was thinking if you could write something like Viktor neglecting reader and all her attempts to be close to him again, and when she decides to give up on him, she almost die in the council room explosion, after he stood her up again, leaving her in some state of coma. then he regret everything, after all she should’ve been with him…

sorry if i made some mistakes, english is not my first language but im trying my best! 🫶🏻

Ah yes, more angst *laughs maniacally in several cups of coffee and severe need to make ppl cry* also your English is perfect, no need to apologise sweetie. Also! This is extremely long cuz I got carried away. Hope you enjoy tho! 🫶🫶

You adored Viktor greatly, for to you there was not a man who could match his brilliance and his resilience, his determination to see everything that he’s put his whole heart and soul into this hextech project through. Everything about him was enticing to you from his dream to better the lives of others, the twinkle in his amber eyes when he had made a scientific breakthrough, not to mention the way he became more animated and eager to talk as he spoke about it; he sounded more alive then ever before which you loved for him.

However what once brought you happiness would eventually become your downfall for as of recent memories as tensions between Piltover and Zaun heightened to a dangerous degree, Viktor had more or less had secluded himself to the lab from the early hours of the morning, rarely to come out for anything or anyone. Gone were the days where you’d see him in the hallways of the academy, blessing you with his beautiful smile as his amber eyes only seemed to glow within your presence in familiarity, offering a short greeting in passing but the recognition of your existence by him was more then a full length conversation with him would have given you.

He left your peripheral vision with nothing to remind you of moment, nothing but a flutter within your chest that’s warm and suffocating as the same time. Now you were left disappointed to ever think that you could recapture that moment again, such like a love sick individual who was detached from all forms of reality that didn’t have him in it. Times were changing and not for the better, for everyone was on edge with what was to come and the tension was so thick you could cut into it with a knife and anticipation hung heavy over everyone, dreadfully awaiting an attack with baited breath and clenched fists in an attempt of bravery in the face of adversity.

Gone were the brief glimpses you’d get of him from the corner of your eyes, leaving you to believe whether or not you did in fact see him or just someone who wore similar clothing. You’d sometimes catch him in the act of waving at you when he was in a hurry or -when he had time to spare- even making himself welcome to the unoccupied seat besides you in the library, looking over your mountain of books with a raised brow and sarcasm upon his lips.

‘You planning to read them all in one go or?’ He’d say, making you scoff as a smile blossomed across your face as you looked into his eyes, finding that they were already on you.

‘Yeah because that’s a completely plausible thing for a person with a simple mind could accomplish.’ You replied with your own form of sarcasm as your smile widens at the sound of his laugh, gladly to have made such a heavenly sound emerge from his mouth. You two would remain in those same seats until it was time to part ways once again, bidding each other farewells as the days drew to a close and you’d leave for home when Viktor would stay overtime in his lab.

Now you don’t see him at all. Your head would perk up at the sound your mind has made you believe was the soft love tap of a cane against wooded floor, only to have your heart clench and mind belittling you when it wasn’t anywhere near Viktor coming into the library but someone else entirely. You were left with a table littered with books and an empty seat besides you, now cold and devoid of the man who’d always sit there and let his thoughts flow freely and bluntly out of his mouth, and yet you’d much prefer that over the deafening silence that greeted you for the past months as the realisation of how cold and miserable you were without Viktor to make your day complete.

You use to frequent the lab more so then your own office just to see Viktor in the past. So much so that Viktor had left a spare chair by his workbench for you to sit on, letting you linger as he worked and never uttering a single word as you were too entranced by the ways his fingers moved and how his facial expressions fluidly moved from one another, it almost like they were telling a silent story of his emotions of his successes and failures within the project. From the highs and lows, the triumphs of learning something new, to the challenges that left dark bags under his eyes from all the late nighters he’s been pulling to at least achieve something in the midst of all the chaos.

Now the warmth that once filled you as you entered the lab felt cold, like you were intruding on something you shouldn’t have. Your once place of refuge had become a place you didn’t recognise as you immediately noticed the lack of the chair you once sat on, it’s location wasn’t a concern of yours more so than the ache within your heart at the seemingly small act. However for such an act as small as removing a spare chair from a workbench you felt as though this was a sign that your presence was no longer a welcomed one; you had become a distraction and in the worse kind to Viktor, and thus your chair had been taken away, signifying that those warm days of human connection had long since overstayed it’s welcome.

‘Viktor?’ You called out but not once did he show signs of recognition towards your voice nor bothered to look up from his work that meant so much to him nowadays. You didn’t know which hurt more, the lack of response or the idea that you were nowhere as dear to his heart as he was to yours at all, however you still smiled through the ache within your chest in hopes that it was just a delayed response on his part.

Nothing. Viktor didn’t even make an attempt to speak to you and just continued being hunched over his workbench with no intention on stopping, acting as though you were merely just a breeze that passed him by and not a human being he was once close to, begging him to acknowledge you and acknowledge the history between the two of you.

‘How long have you been cooped up in here like a little hermit.’ You tried to attempt a joke that only felt awkward and painful when the Viktor didn’t make a sarcastic quip back towards you. He left you in silence once again as you felt your hope slowly start to die within your chest and your smile began to fade from your lips as your resolve began to waver. You swallows thickly as you tired not to let this get to you and instead believe that he couldn’t hear you, and so you walked closer to him until you rested a hand upon his shoulder, making him stop working for a moment before going back to what he was doing soon after.

‘How long has it been since you slept, eaten anything, or just get some fresh air?’ You asked with concern towards his health and how it seemed that he was driving himself down into the ground for academic validation for his work. ‘Why don’t you take a break and take some time away from-‘

‘Not everyone has the luxury of time on their hands.’ Viktor cuts you off but not in the way you’d hope. His words cut through you, making you flinch away from him from the bitter tone that came from him as though he burnt you. ‘They need help now and I won’t allow any further distractions to hinder me from doing so.’ He adds and it obviously felt very pointed towards you as if you were the problem he now faced and you couldn’t help but get a little upset over this.

‘And kill yourself in the process? Who’s going to help them when you’re dead Viktor because it’s sure as hell not me!’ You bit back as you moved back towards the door, finding no point in standing by his side if he was so willing to discard you like you were nothing in the pursuits of science. ‘I’m not going to stand here and watch you lose yourself to your work, I won’t do it.’ You add with certainty but it’s Viktor’s next words that really hurt you despite the softness of his voice, now was sharp as ice and just as piercing.

‘Then don’t bother darkening my door any longer than you already have.’

You stiffened up at this as you felt your heart tore itself in half at the unnecessary hostility thrown towards you as the rift between the two of you had finally made itself known in this moment. The closeness you once shared with Viktor was now an illusion you fell for so willingly, all with the hopes that something more would come from it one day, much like the hopeless romantic that you truly were. However in this moment it was revealed that none of that mattered to him, not as much as it did to you and just as you were about to leave the lab, you looked over at his back and said;

‘Goodbye Viktor. I promise to never be an inconvenience to you ever again since that’s what you wish for.’ And without needing to hear him, you walked out of the lab, shutting the door behind you as you walked down the hall as silent tears fell from your cheeks as you kissed goodbye the one good thing you had left to keep your head above water; however without it you could feel yourself slipping beneath the waves that had threatened to crash over you for a long, long time as you had lost your anchor and you have the angry to care what happens to you.

…

Everything that happened in a matter of seconds. Too fast for anyone to notice what was going on before it was too late and a wave of pain greeted you as you blacked out.

The council was attacked and all signs pointed towards Zaun as the perpetrators.

Viktor was lucky enough to have somehow miraculously survive with the help of the hexcore but you on the other hand were left in a coma from the explosion. All Viktor knew when he came through in his new body was the news that you had could’ve died had you been just a tiny bit closer to bear the brunt of the unforeseen attack. The doctors were overlooking your possibilities of awaking from the coma, they claim that chances of that happening were slim but they believed that you were strong enough to pull through it, not that any of this mattered to Viktor as for all he was aware was that even if you did awake he’d be the last person you wanted to ever see.

He was told that upon being rescued from the rubble you looked like you had already died with the amounts of deep gashes that littered across your face, he got told that you didn’t even look like you were breathing at all, but you looked oddly at peace with the outcome of such a tragedy; as though you were silently suffering inside your own head for a long time and this was you gladly accepting the fate bestowed upon you.

Viktor didn’t know what hurt more, the fact that you could’ve died, or the idea that you were more then willing to have died in the attack then wake in a reality where he had all but pushed you aside. He couldn’t blame you for not wanting anything to do with him anymore, not after trying so hard to get through to him in the past, only for him to retaliate with words that you didn’t deserve. You had every right to never allow him into your life ever again, Viktor didn’t feel he was deserving of a second chance with you, especially not after something as traumatic as almost dying.

Now upon retrospect it would’ve been morbidly poetic had he did die in the attack, his hand reaching towards your own but never truly touching, a reminder that he had severed that connection with you the moment more was demanded of him and of hextech; A once beloved and respected connection that’ll never mend for the damage was already done due to his own hubris.

You deserved more then him and Viktor knew this painfully well enough to continue to drive the wedge between the two of you, all in hopes that you too would see that you were better off in search of something new with someone else, and yet he couldn’t help but cling onto you for himself so selfishly as though he wasn’t the one who caused you pain in favour of staying within the lab to his own devices. Viktor knew he was being ridiculous and he would only be hurting you in the process with his indecision of whether to keep you close by his side, or as far away from him as possible.

Yet everything within him told him to at least visit you, just to be certain that you would be strong enough to emerge from the coma, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that despite how much he wished to see you recover much like you had been bedside for him when his health declined sharply. Viktor remembered the day clear as day as the concern within your eyes shone, and the grip you had on his hand tightened every so often with every inhale and exhale, you didn’t say a single word but you didn’t half to as viktor has taught himself to read you better then most. It was clear that you were afraid but didn’t have the heart to speak up on it, and now he was face with a similar situation.

You were the ache in his heart that he couldn’t be rid of, no matter how much change his body went through, not that he wanted to either and Viktor knew he was the ache within your heart. You two pained each other with your absences, comforted each other’s overthinking minds and gave each other the company you so needed. You needed each other but didn’t at the same time, it was a never ending game with yourself and Viktor as you didn’t know whether to get close to one another or keep the distance between you and pretend that you’re both not hurting when you were.

However Viktor may regret the words he had spoken to you, it doesn’t change fate in the slightest, he was with his commune in the Undercity and you were still in that coma you should’ve awoken from weeks ago. Yet now and then Viktor would find himself looking to his side where he would normally feel you, only to see nothing but thin air and close his eyes as he took a deep breath to compose himself. He regrets everything he said to you but they wouldn’t change the hurt you were both suffering from, Viktor wanted you by his side in that moment but knew he’s better off wishing for that in another life, a life where he chose you.

Now he’ll get to know how sweet that life would be like and the ache within the remains of his heart hurt just that little more, for you, the ache within his him that he couldn’t get rid of but needed all the same to remind himself that he was still the Viktor you once loved.

#arcane #viktor arcane #arcane x you #arcane x y/n #arcane imagines #arcane imagine #arcane x reader #viktor x you #viktor imagines #viktor angst #viktor imagine #viktor x reader

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doctorho · 2 months ago

Text

dripping velvet, purring dark

Academy era Viktor x fem! curvy reader, 4.5k, no warnings only love in this house (ok there is a conversation about some people being idiots which can be interpreted as the reader getting unwanted attention at a party but it's nothing graphic or anything i promise and no-one is mean to her) also i made viktor horny and slightly subby because that's what the gremlins in my brain wanted. you're welcome. yeah! hi! not sure what this is, but here you go. the reader is described as she/her here (and curvy, and soft, and she is wearing an evening gown, because i wanted to think about pretty dresses). idk. have a thing. happy friday.

Viktor likes to think of himself as a person who's usually capable of focusing on things pretty well. On the task at hand. Give him a faulty circuit and he'll poke at it long enough to find the broken component, no problem. An error in the calculations? He'll find that missing minus sign or forgotten exponent, easy. He'll strip a wire in his sleep.

The task at hand now, though? The problem?

He had to sit through a whole evening of presentations at the academy end-of-year party, put on a polite face for the investors, and pretend not to care that one idiot after another was lining up to flirt with you while he was watching from the sidelines. You were wearing a dress that felt sinful to look at, and there was something primitive gnawing at the inside of his chest begging to be let out, and he had to just stand there and nod through the conversations, pretend he wasn't slowly boiling from the inside out.

And he was failing miserably.

He’d known he was in trouble from the moment he saw you that night – all expensive fabric covering smooth curves and soft-looking skin, sparkling eyes and easy smiles, and he’d been done for. Before this, it’d been much easier to compartmentalize his feelings; before this, it'd been easier to ignore them.

Before he’d kept his distance, emotionally and physically speaking, because, well, it’d been easier. He'd seen you around the Academy, all bubbling laughs and raw-honest radiant smiles and confident solutions, and he'd known that you looked…appealing, but he wasn't in the habit of holding up any illusions about what you might think of him in return. His place was in the dark dusty corner of the lab, turning over the ever-ticking problems, while you were out there shining like the sun. And sometimes you came by the lab, with new ideas or suggestions or just to borrow some equipment or ask about a shipment, and he had resigned to his role of staying at his desk pretending he wasn't burning to be closer to your orbit.

But when he sees you in the low lighting of the party, leaning to the bar and laughing, something just breaks in him. And then he can’t pretend to ignore it any longer. And sure, maybe he’s a little bit drunk, it was easier to stand these events that way, but it still feels like a solid-honest truth in his bones that he wanted to get closer to you, and suddenly he couldn’t stand the conversation he was in the middle of. Because one of them – the sour idiots he’d catalogued in his head for the whole night, the stupid people trying to impress you with their embellished stories and inherited wealth who weren’t worth your time – one of them was circling you like a hyena again, smiling.

You were wearing a dark, floor-length gown that wasn’t, on a purely technical level, much different from what about 50% of the other guests were wearing. However, it seemed to create a significant caveat that even though there wasn’t anything indecent in the dress itself, seeing it on you made him feel like maybe he shouldn’t look at you for too long or he might spontaneously combust. There was a slit on the side that revealed a more than generous amount of leg when you walked, and his focus kept wandering from that to your silhouette, the soft curve of your hips, your chest, your face – no, that’s worse, don’t stare, she'll notice – and truly, he had to force himself to keep his eyes at least vaguely on the vicinity of the person who was currently talking to him. Something about statistics and return investment. Yes.

He nods, pretending to look interested.

The dress drapes over your hips in soft little cascades, the fabric shimmering lightly as you moved, and something in his brain was itching, begging to run his fingers over it, to know what it feels like, to know what you feel like under it, all soft and warm and pliable under his fingers, and preferably sighing something into the crook of his neck, and–

“We'd like to get our investment back within a year,” the guy that's talking to him says – Viktor can't even remember his name, and he doesn’t really even care – and he just shifts his eyes back to the guy slowly.

“A year?” he repeats, with the barest amount of feigned interest, and the guy goes off in a whole new tangent. Viktor shifts his posture, and lets his eyes glide over to where you were again.

One of those idiots, one he thankfully doesn’t have the displeasure of knowing personally but who must be the son of some crooked diplomat, says something to you and you scoff through a smile, roll your eyes, and lean further into the counter at the bar. Viktor has to pretend to be present for his own conversation – yes, the new coating material for the wires was more heat-resistant, no, there was still the issue of mechanical stress, they were working on it – and you say something in answer to the current idiot (third of the night, he’d counted), and it is killing him that he doesn’t know what it is.

You’d turned down the first two, from what he could tell. But this latest idiot was still talking to you, like he was in any way entitled to your company. And it's making something inside Viktor raise its hackles, and he doesn’t especially like feeling like that, because he couldn't justify feeling like that to himself in any tangible way, and then it all just boiled down to a resigned even if she deserves better than that i have no business dictating that for her.

He's just about to focus on the conversation he was supposedly participating in again when something happens. He can't make out the details, but imbecile number three seems to lean way too close to you, says something, and smiles in a way that makes something cold creep down the back of Viktor's neck. And your expression coldens, too, and you say something to him, and turn away, more rigid than you'd been the whole evening.

“Excuse me,” Viktor is saying to the Investment Guy before he can fully think it through, his own voice feeling distant in his ears, and then he's walking to the bar.

You're alone – the idiot had had the sense to leave you alone quickly, at least. That's good. Viktor isn't sure what he's doing, but then he's leaning to the bar next to you and ordering another drink and trying to look like he isn't thinking too hard about what to do next.

“Whatever he just proposed to you,” Viktor says slowly, looking over the bar instead of directly at you, “I assure you you can do better.”

He can hear you take a deep breath, shift a little, and sigh it out with what sounded like almost a laugh.

“Yeah,” you agree, “I don't know what it is about people like that that makes them think they can just…” You sigh again, and make a hand gesture towards the room. ”You know.”

“Unfortunately,” he answers, resigned, “yes. I do.”

He gets his drink and thanks the bartender, and then leans to the counter too, mimicking your posture, holding the drink and letting it swirl around in his glass. “Have you talked with anyone actually worth your time tonight?”

You hmm. Then, “there was a little girl earlier that told me some fascinating things about insect metamorphosis.” You say casually.

And Viktor laughs. Without meaning to, he laughs, and you smile in response, visibly relaxing a little.

“I don't think she was on the guest list though.” You continue.

He hums in response, and rearranges his grip on the handle of his cane. “Sounds much more interesting than the conversations I've been in tonight.”

“I know,” you answer, and he can hear the smile in your voice, “you think we could swap out one of the main speakers with her?”

He hmms again, looking over the stage thoughtfully. “I think it would count as a public service,” he nods a little, considering the list of speakers yet to come, “what do you think, who'd be a good target?”

You shift in your place, looking over the same list of speakers, plastered over the walls on both sides of the stage. “The financial talk,” you answer, “Mr. Ross. I'd much rather listen to insect facts than another boring talk about investing.”

Viktor nods. “You distract him, I'll whack him unconscious?” he offers, and you laugh. You laugh, and it warms something in him.

“And then what?” you continue, still smiling, and he has to look away to keep his composure.

He shrugs. “Eh,” he answers, “we drag him to a bathtub somewhere and act like he just passed out there?" He shrugs, "I happen to know three ways to get out of this room that I'm pretty sure we could use unnoticed.”

“Uh-huh,” you answer, “and then we just find the girl and ask her if she wants to talk about bugs for half an hour. Easy.”

“Exactly,” he agrees, “and then we congratulate ourselves for making the evening better for everybody.”

"Except maybe Mr. Ross."

"No," he counters, looking over the crowd, "I think he would prefer a nice little nap. Surely not even he wants to hear himself talk all the time." He takes a sip of his drink, "and I think waking up in a bathtub would be a nice change of pace to the rumors of other places he seems to have a habit of waking up in after events such as these."

“Good point,” you shift in your place, settling to lean to the counter a bit closer to him. “Perfect plan. But why'd you get to whack him unconscious and not me?”

Viktor blinks. Lifts one eyebrow. “Because you are by far more distracting than I am,” he answers, “and I thought the plan could use the distraction.”

“I don't think that's true,” you answer, “I think you're plenty distracting on your own.”

Now, he lets himself look at you. Really, properly look at you, and not even half-trying to hide it. You're smiling now, shoulders relaxed, holding your drink with fingers wrapped loosely around it, and in the warm lights of the bar there's a golden glow on your skin, and something breathless at the bottom of his stomach is aching to get closer to you, to touch you, to see if his hand would fit on your waist as well as he thinks it would, to see how you would react to that, if he could make you smile in a different way, what sounds he could get you to make for him–

“Agree to disagree,” he says, averts his eyes, and takes a sip of his drink.

Tries to tell that wild-hungry purring thing in him to behave.

Someone reasonable comes to talk to you – and it's about work, which is…something, probably, he has to stop himself from thinking it's better than those earlier idiots, because who's he to decide that for you? He gives you a casual wave and a nod as you depart with a smile and get swept up in the conversation about new ideas and solutions and this-new-thing you've been looking at. And he watches as you start talking excitedly, all golden and glittering, easy conversation and confident smiles, and quietly (not-so quietly) he concludes that maybe you hadn't had many worthwhile conversations with any of the guests that night because you were the most worthwhile person in there to talk to.

He stays there sipping his drink and wondering what would be the closest appropriate time to slip out. He'd made an appearance, and technically nothing could be expected from him beyond that point. Sure, Jayce might tell him he could've stayed a bit longer, he could use the support, but nothing dramatic would happen.

The party drones on, and he makes no effort to move – and really, he tries not to think about it too much, but that was at least in part because he wanted to keep looking at you. He promptly ignores this, even when you're laughing at something someone else said and that heavy-dark-purring something at the bottom of his stomach doesn't like it very much.

Someone comes to ask for his opinion on something, and with a tiny sigh, he lets them pull him into the loop of conversations again. Yes, we are trying to simplify the design, no we can't cut back from the materials, they are what they are for a reason.

Somewhere around his third ‘Why would you think that?’ of that particular conversation, he's had enough. People were stupid, and he's had enough. He's just trying to come up with ways to get out of the conversation preferably without starting a scandal of some sort, when he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turns around to look at who it belongs to, and then everything in his head is quiet for a moment.

“Hey,” you say, smiling, “sorry to interrupt, but can I steal you away for a moment?” you ask, slipping your hand feather-light down his arm, and he has to suppress a shiver.

Viktor furrows his brows and opens his mouth, and then, like an idiot, says nothing. But he turns to leave, thankful for the window of opportunity.

“You remember that thing we talked about before?” you continue as you steer him away from the earlier group smoothly, “I found someone who's interested in those three escape routes you had up your sleeve.”

“Who?” he asks, because that's the only thing he can think of. You've linked your arm with his, and you're leaning on him, and you're soft and warm and you smell good, and he doesn’t trust his ability to form a full sentence.

“Me,” you answer, “and judging by how you just looked out there,” you continue, “you.”

Viktor swallows, and something in him purrs at the idea.

“This way,” he says, nodding towards an old stage exit, and honestly, he doesn’t even care why you want to leave, he's just grateful for the distraction and the company and drinking in every warm square inch of skin contact that you're willing to give him, even if it is just walking with your shoulder pressed against his.

If it turned out to be a plot where you actually wanted to whack someone unconscious, he'd worry about that later. For now he was just happy to leave, and happier that you were leaving with him.

It's easy to slip away from the crowd, and into the space between the stage curtain and the wall, if you know where you're going. You effortlessly fall a bit further from his side but keep his hand on yours, letting him pull you along, and quietly he wonders how and why and holy shit. He decides not to question it though, and keeps walking through the dim space between the cold old wall and the cascades of warm heavy velvet curtains.

“Do you want to leave the party,” he asks, voice quiet now that the background buzz of people was muffled by the curtain, “or just get away from it?”

You hmm behind him, clearly through a smile, and he makes the mistake of looking back at you. Surrounded by the dark red velvet curtains and only slivers of light from each side, his head – and the rest of his body – get entirely the wrong idea of what you're doing in there, because you look like a goddess in the small dim space, and he might crumble into ashes if he keeps looking at you, or he might do something stupid like pull you closer and press you into the wall, to see if your eyes would widen, if you'd gasp from the cold wall, if he could find other ways to make you gasp–

so he turns his eyes away and keeps talking.

He quickly finds he has to clear his throat before he can do that. “There is a staff entrance that goes past the kitchen a little ways further,” he says, and motions forwards, “or there is a disused indoor balcony surrounding the stage. You would be able to see the party, but it'd feel…removed.”

You lean closer, close enough that when your voice is muffled by the surrounding velvet, it feels like you're speaking right in his ear, and he has to swallow and remind himself that that's just situational coincidence, nothing more.

“Why do you know so many ways to get out of here?” you ask, “You sneak out a lot?”

“I am a fan of interesting architecture,” he answers, “and not as much a fan of pretentious social gatherings.”

“Fair,” you answer, then lean your chin on his shoulder, and he feels like his spine might spontaneously melt. “In your expertise, what would you recommend?”

“Well,” he says, trying to make it sound casual and like he wasn't breathless at all, “I think the balcony has some fairly interesting architecture.” And the lights of the party would look pretty from there. And you'd both get a breather away from the crowd. And he'd get to keep talking to you a little bit longer. And, as selfish as the thought felt, he couldn't deny it; he'd get to keep having you to himself for a little bit longer.

“Show me the balcony,” you smile, and he obliges. Happily, he obliges. So he pulls you into a narrow staircase, and then, up.

At the end of it there is a room that could, only by technical definition alone, be called a balcony – it was more like a hole carved into the wall, having at some point been used for seating or equipment space at events and concerts, and now just served as half-forgotten extra storage. It had, he supposed, once upon a time looked like the banquet hall did, all smooth surfaces and warm lights and thematically switched-out decorations, but now it was mostly the standard red velvet and dark wood and light marble, forgotten by the party and some of the golden light from the hall spilling into it by pure coincidence. There were velvet curtains on each side of the room, and you drop his hand to go look over the railing, and down at the party.

His hand instantly feels cold without yours in it, but he tries his best to ignore this, and follows you to look down at the party, too.

It looks much smaller from up there. Less chaotic.

“I didn't know there was a space like this here.” You say quietly, “can they see us?”

“Part of the design,” he answers, “you're not supposed to notice these spaces unless people want you to. Good place to hide extra orchestra pieces and make it feel like the sound is coming from nowhere. And–” he looks over at the people, colorful and mingling, “no, they can't. Not unless you want them to.” Then, he smiles, just a little. “But they'll be able to hear us, if we direct our voices upwards and wait for things to quiet down there first.”

You turn to look at him.

“Sloped ceilings,” he explains with a shrug, “again, good for a hidden orchestra accompaniment.”

“But they can't hear us talking?*

“Not over themselves,” he answers, “ironic, I know.”

You hum thoughtfully and turn around, with your back to the railing, and then you look at him and he needs to kick his brain back in line. You were gorgeous in the dim lighting, all relaxed and smiling, and–

He grips the handle of his cane a little tighter.

“Good,” you say, and the way you say it – all quiet and warm and liquid – makes something in him purr again, entirely against his better judgement.

“Why is it good?” he asks, because he has to hold on to some semblance of logic here, because otherwise he might just vaporize out into the atmosphere.

“Why do you think?” you ask, slowly turning to face him, and oh that just isn't fair. You're just there, just a warm breath of space away, all soft and pretty and languid–

He doesn’t know what to say, so he goes with what feels like the safest course of action.

“In case we want to plot any more ways to violently derail the evening's program?”

You exhale a small laugh and lean back.

And then you lift a hand on his chest, and he's pretty sure his heart might be overheating soon.

“Sure,” you answer, “that.” You inch closer, and Viktor is having a hard time remembering how to breathe. “Or anything else we might not want them overhearing.”

“Like?” He exhales, careful not to break the moment, and then you smile, warm and private and for him, and his insides liquify into warm, honey-thick goo, and oh, he’s not going to recover from this.

“Like,” you repeat slowly, and then you push yourself away from the balcony railing, just slightly, into the side of the wall covered by the velvet curtain, and he lets you pull him with you, he's not stupid. His brain – along with the rest of his body – might be in the process of actively melting, but he's not stupid. If you wanted to pull him into a shadowed, velvet-covered corner, he would follow no questions asked, especially on a night like this when his insides were buzzing and you looked like that. When you looked at him like that. You smile again, and stop moving when your back hits a wall, and then you pull him just close enough to whisper into his ear. “...Anything else we might not want them overhearing.” you repeat, and, yeah, Viktor is close to becoming the best documented case of human combustion in recorded history.

In the dim lighting, he searches your eyes into his, and you watch him, waiting, radiating heat between him and the velvet-covered wall. He's not sure why you were acting like this, but all signs were pointing towards you wanting the same thing he did, and he's not sure what he did to get this lucky, but with his every cell buzzing and vibrating and keening over to get closer, he wasn't about to let the opportunity pass.

He wants to ask ‘why me’ or ‘are you sure’ but what comes out is a broken, desperate whisper of a “can I touch you?”, and you answer with a grin and with your fingers tangled to the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.

“Yes,” you breathe, “please.”

And really, he wouldn't have thought it would be so simple, but it's the please that does him in – just one whispered word and his brain short-circuits in an overflowing flash of white-hot need. Need to trigger that again, need to please, and need to finally give in to the pleasure waiting to boil. And then it all comes rushing out; the hunger.

His hands are on your waist in an instant, and his cane clatters to the ground as he leans his weight on you and the wall and for a moment, he has the sense to hope the curtains don't come tumbling down, and they don't, which is good enough for him, because then he can let go of that particular worry and focus solely on finding your lips to his and making the most of every second of this that you're willing to give him.

The sensations hit his brain like flashes of bright light; how soft you are under his fingers, like he'd hoped, the fabric smooth and silky, giving away easily under his touch. How warm you are, warm and breathing in a fluttered little gasp, the dusty old velvet mixing in with your sweet scent, and then when he gets his lips on you–

After that it's just golden-dark-velvet-honey-thick bliss. You breathe out a small sound that drips down his spinal cord and goes straight to the purring pit at the bottom of his stomach, and he swallows it with a hungry, greedy, desperate groan that comes from somewhere deep inside his chest, and his head is swimming with warm and real and soft and for me–

He is happily overloading his brain with this, and he doesn’t even care. He presses closer to you and you exhale another sweet little sound that makes him bare his teeth, and then his lips are on your neck and he doesn’t know anything except that he wants you to keep making those sounds and he likes the way your hands tangle in his hair and tug.

“Tell me what you want,” he mutters to the skin of your neck, pulling you closer by the waist, and absolutely relishing in the way your chest rises and falls with short little pants he can hear you take in and out. In and out, and as he tugs at your waist again, just a bit closer, and drags his teeth against your pulse lightly, one of those exhales turns into a sweet little whine.

He grins against your skin.

He doesn’t waste the time or energy pretending he isn't an absolute mess over you, right now – his own breathing ragged and fast and his heart hammering in his ears, his whole body buzzing with want – but that didn't mean seeing you react that way didn't make him want to purr.

Didn't make his insides heat up with I did that. I got her like this. She made that sound for me. For me. It's mine.

You take a breath, slow and rugged, and then you tug him towards one of the velvet-covered seats. And he moves like he's floating, letting you guide him, because what else is he going to do? You tug him into the seat and he sits on it, gladly, and stays there looking up at you with his eyes wide and only half-lidded and his heart hammering, waiting for more.

You give him another one of those small, private, knowing smiles, your eyes hazy, and then you step to stand right in front of him.

And then you hover over him, just waiting for him to pull you into his lap. He does, because he is selfish and greedy and burning, and he's pretty sure he's going to implode if he doesn’t get that delicious pressure on him soon, and his hand fits your waist perfectly, and then when when you do straddle him, your hips pressing down on his, he whines. He lets out a breathless little whine, he can feel it in the base of his spine, and it makes that hunger in him want more.

“Only the voices directed upwards travel down there, right?” you ask, voice quiet and dripping right into his ear and pooling at the bottom of his stomach.

He swallows. “Yes.”

You hum thoughtfully, and press your body closer to his, all soft and warm and perfect, sinking your lips down to his neck and he shivers, instinctually tilting back his head with a sigh, exposing more of his neck to you.

“Better keep quiet, then.”

#viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #viktor x fem!reader #viktor x female reader

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poisoned-fruit-prose · 2 months ago

Text

𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐥.

synop: viktor is upset with you. the walls are closing in on your identity. you have nowhere to turn but away.

wc: 2.4k.

request from anon: Your Viktor X mage reader is so GOOD!!! It made me so happy considering that my oc is a mage and works with Viktor and Jayce! If you have time, could you maybe write something in the same scenario (reader being a mage, working with the boys on Hextech + dating Viktor) but where the reader had been hiding that they're a mage and now they have to confess it to the boys and explain why they understand the arcane so unusually well? So sorry if this is worded badly, and if you don't want to write it that's perfectly fine! Have a great day/night!! -🦖

includes: hurt/comfort. happy (?) ending.

author's note: i do apologize that i couldn't fit jayce into here, but i think we all know he'd just wag his tail and perk his ears up and love you all the same. (...puppy-coded jayce x reader fic, anyone?)

“It’s almost as if you already know how this all works.”

Viktor’s words made you freeze.

Hextech was beginning to reek with magic. There were jumps in logic that were far too great for science; it was you, mucking up information, crafting runes, testing things that made no sense to a non-magical mind, one that didn’t possess your internal compass. Viktor and Jayce were along for the ride at the beginning, but the explosive success of the Hexgates and the novelty of the technology’s potential was fading into careful study—a form of work that would expose your abilities and leave you vulnerable to accusations like Viktor’s.

But you didn’t already know how it all worked. Magic was an unknowable thing; it was a plane above you, surging through you in ways you’d never fully understand, not within your lifetime. You were working merely off these fleeting moments where magic, instead of your mind or even your heart, guided you. Magic told you where to step—it didn’t tell you why, it didn’t bother to explain, and it most certainly didn’t care how it appeared to the rest of the world.

It was only a matter of time before your “genius” was seen more as prescience. You no longer had a simple knack for the arcane. You were now a hostile guard of secrets that would otherwise better the world. It just broke your heart that it was Viktor who saw through it first. That he’d have to be the first to be bear your burden.

His words bit with little subtlety. It was late. Desk lamps glowed a harsh white, washing out his already pallor skin and exacerbating the bags hanging beneath his eyes. You didn’t know if he already suspected your abilities, but you now knew he most certainly noticed how you stumbled through every technicality yet were still, always, ten steps ahead of him.

Maybe it was jealousy, maybe it was sleep deprivation, maybe you were looking too far into it all. But you could only respond with nothing. Your mouth hung agape for a moment before snapping shut. You fled the lab. He didn’t follow.

You retreated to the university’s sprawling library; it was too cold for the garden and too late for anywhere else. You buried yourself in books and words when the world became unbearable but, tonight, fatigue and despair clouded your ability to focus. You found yourself crying in a study nook instead.

Somehow, in your attempt to protect the one you loved most, you found yourself driving a wedge between you instead. It sickened you.

“My, this isn’t what the library is for!”

You weren't sure how much time had passed before Heimerdinger’s cheerful voice chirped out beside your chair; a moment later, you heard him scuttle into the chaise beside you. You didn’t bother to look.

“Whatever is the matter, dear?”

You took a shaky breath as more tears escaped you. The Yordle clicked his tongue and reached into his coat pocket. After retrieving the handkerchief folded neatly inside, he reached out and passed it to you. You gave him a grateful look as you used it to dry your face.

You sniffled. He waited patiently.

“I… I fear I may not be able to work on Hextech anymore.”

“Oh, my—I understand your upset now. Why do you think that?”

“I just…” Your breath fluttered. “I think I’m causing an impasse. And I would rather Viktor and Jayce work on it alone instead of it being abandoned altogether.”

“You three are inseparable,” Heimerdinger insisted. “What in the world could you be doing that would call for such a drastic measure?”

You sobbed. “I… I can’t explain.”

“Surely it’s not your relationship with Viktor.”

“No, absolutely not,” you insisted firmly. “This… This would be a decision I’d make to save that. He and Hextech mean more to me than anything. Even my own participation.”

A quiet fell over you two—not uncomfortable, yet not devoid of thought either.

“...May I be honest with you, my dear?”

You nodded, finally looking over at him.

“I know you’re a mage.”

The blood drained from your body and the world shuddered upside down. You gaped at him in dread. The Yordle merely chuckled.

“Don’t be so worried—if I believed you were a threat, I would’ve turned you in long ago. But I have no reason to, nor any desire to.”

You allowed yourself to calm. A Council Member knowing was the worst possible scenario—but Heimerdinger had a soft spot for you in addition to thousands of years of experience. Fate graced you, of all people in all possible times, with magic. You were benevolent, incredibly sharp, and ambitious—and if there was anyone the Yordle believed should wield the arcane, it would be someone like you.

“...How did you find out?”

“Viktor and Jayce are not the only ones who have noticed the leaps you make in your studies.”

You nodded weakly. “...What’s going to happen to me?”

“Nothing at all, dear. I’ll admit, I was quite fearful when I put the pieces together. After all, magic is a very dangerous thing—even an inexperienced or feeble mage holds far more power than any non-user. Yet I cannot deny the work you have done for the world through Hextech. You have proven your worth, your passion, and your goodness. I don’t believe the public should know you’re a mage, for obvious reasons, but I do believe you have a duty to continue your research. Your abilities give you an invaluable advantage.”

You sniffled. “But Viktor… I fear he’s building up resentment because of that. I can’t… I can’t keep doing that to him, sir.”

“I have lived a very, very long life—trust me when I say a relationship such as yours is a true marvel. His resentment is understandable, but it is a drop of water in the ocean of adoration he has for you. Severing your ties to Hextech will only summon a storm. You must tell him the truth.”

“What if he hates me for it?”

“My dear, he leaves the lab when you merely ask him to. He’s going to marry you.”

You were exhausted, but you still ran back to the lab. The moon yawned from behind the windows over an empty chair and a desk in disarray. Viktor was upset with you, so you knew he wouldn’t be home—which left a single place he could possibly be.

Viktor sat on the ledge of the maintenance shaft. His eyes hung heavy but his mind whirred as he played the way you left the lab, defeated, over and over against his skull. He knew he shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. You were the love of his life, his irreplaceable partner in Hextech, and his closest friend. He had frustrations, naturally, but he allowed them to escape their leash and lash out at you. Then, once they had finished with you, they turned and began to gnaw on him.

Your hand was warm on his shoulder. He knew it was you immediately. He turned to meet your gaze, expression somber, hand jumping to yours.

“Miláčku,” he breathed, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you murmured as you settled beside him. You squeezed his hand, rested your head on his shoulder. A wave of relief washed over him. “I’m sorry too.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“No, I have. I’ve been keeping something important from you.”

You opened your free hand. A single rune nestled in your palm. Viktor gave you a confused look.

“A rune? I don’t understand—”

Without so much as the utterance of a word, the wave of a gesture, or any visible exertion of effort whatsoever, the stone began to glow a familiar blue as it lifted itself from your skin. It levitated, revolving slowly, as Viktor finally grasped what was happening.

“...You’re a mage,” he whispered. The truth shifted the air. You nodded as your hand began to shake. Your fear cleaved your connection with the arcane and the rune fell, lifeless, back into your hand.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His words were clipped. Panic made you defensive. Disagreements were common in science, but you and Viktor rarely had them outside the lab doors. The irregularity of this, compounded with the danger of magic and fatigue, made you both a little more upset than you should’ve been.

“If it wasn’t obvious, my kind isn’t exactly skipping through meadows hand-in-hand with non-users, Viktor.”

“The three of us are trying to change the world’s view on magic. You should’ve told Jayce and I much sooner—think of what we could’ve done if we knew this!"

Your head ripped off his shoulder to glare at him. “Telling you would’ve done nothing but put you in danger!”

“We could’ve made progress ten times faster!”

"This isn't about morals or philosophy, Viktor—this is life and death! That progress would be meaningless if it meant I had even a chance of losing you!"

Viktor always feared if he did not charge forward with perfect efficiency he would wither away, his life unimportant and impactless. But your words rung out in the night, struck Viktor and resonated through his body. Instantaneously, his world shifted. He saw the way you regarded him, how you held him as the pinnacle of your life. Even above Hextech. Above progress. You were scared. You cared about Hextech just as greatly as him; but what terrified you enough to conceal a crucial face of your own identity, to endure his acerbic comments, to consider abandoning your greatest passion, was not the discovery of your abilities or the destruction of your work.

It was the potential loss of him that came with it.

He finally understood. He saw the world through your eyes. He had been picking evolution over you, chasing importance and impact when he already had it cradled in his hands. He had become spiteful of the person he loved most dearly because you were making more progress. In that moment, he chose the path of his life.

He chose you. For what was progress to an empty man?

“...You would be worth dying for.”

The softness of Viktor’s voice made the anger in your shoulders and face immediately fall away; the actual statement made your heart tear apart. He would keep your secret even if it meant death upon discovery. He would forever share your burden.

You both immediately reached for each other. Viktor's hands took your face, pulling you to him with urgency as he kissed you fiercely. Your hands immediately ran up his chest, the sides of his neck, into the short hair at the nape, then fully into his locks. He snaked an arm around your middle to pull you flush against him; the mention of death only served to burn this moment in his memory. Should the worst happen, should you get caught and he lost you, he’d always remember the way your skin felt against his, how you kissed him like he mattered, how you felt like a well-loved puzzle piece against his own. There was no knowing where he ended and you began, and it terrified him how much he loved it, how he squeezed you closer to exacerbate it.

You only parted when your lungs burned. Panting, you shared breaths and atoms. Viktor bumped his forehead against yours and looked up at you with that gorgeous amber gaze. You were tearing up.

"I meant it," he murmured. Hands still on your cheeks, he thumbed the corners of your eyes, wanting to take the pain before it even started. He held you with more care than his runes, his inventions, his life's work. He held you in the way a priest cradled his scripture.

“Please don’t go doing that,” you murmured.

“Only if you don’t either.”

"I promise."

A quiet tension still scintillated in the air. “...I’m sorry for raising my voice at you. And for the back-handed comments. And accusing you of slowing down our progress.”

You couldn't help but laugh softly. “With a rap sheet like that I should quit anyways.”

“...You were going to quit?”

“Vik, I… The danger of being a mage—you were days from finding out. You were frustrated all the time and I was only dividing us further.”

“No, no more thinking like that.” He grabbed your arms, squeezed them. “You were not the reason for any of this. Hextech is our life’s work, and I can only hope that we continue on it until we die hunched over our papers; but I would give it all up to keep you at my side.”

“You don’t mean that, V.”

“What in the world makes you believe I don’t?” he asked incredulously, leaning in to catch your eyes again. His expression was earnest, adoring, nearly puppy-like from the sheer intensity of his concern.

“I—that’s just a very romantic statement.”

“You believe I’d die for you, but not that I’d give up Hextech for you? Surely you aren’t jealous of our creation.”

A beat. You both smiled. The tension broke with it, and the two of you devolved into laughter. The sound of it made Viktor’s heart just soar. The catharsis of an invention that finally worked, finishing a long book, understanding some complex idea—none of it compared to the way your voice rang out like bells when he made you laugh. Viktor nuzzled his nose beside yours. You reached up, thumbing his bottom lip.

“I'm not jealous. I just know neither of us could survive without Hextech in our lives.”

“Mm, I'm sure we’d find a way to pass the time.”

Viktor closed the gap between your lips again. You both smiled, kissing each other sleepily, unaware of just how prescient your words knelled.

dividers used: sparkles • star

#thank you for reading!#viktor #heimerdinger #arcane #viktor fic #arcane fic #viktor x reader #x reader #hurt/comfort #request

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mono-dot-jpeg · 3 months ago

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inextricably bound - viktor, jayce

summary; stuck in a plane above all else but at least you're together

genre/extra tags; oneshot, fluff, bad jokes?, a dash of angst?, czech viktor, jayvik are canon fuck whatever christian linke was saying, just two bros being soulmates in every timeline and they're each others everything (but not in a gay way am i right chat /j), god forbid two dudes be canonically gay in every timeline, sorry im pissed off, im coping with jayvik being gone, OOC jayvik??, i dont know how to write for jayce well, jayvikreader poly sloppy toppy (jk), it's like implied that reader just got pulled in and doesn't know the dramatic moment they had n the astral plane before finally making up., headcanon that the astral plane is almost like being in limbo for death or reincarnation

[reader's gender not specified or mentioned]

word count; 808

a/n; can you tell im mad that there are jayvik non believers? like hate them all you want, but you can't just say that they were just bros and im glad most of the fandom can understand that. am i absolutely greedy for viktor? yes, but im not taking him away from his literal soulmate/twin flame/whatever the fuck gay shit they got going. also i feel like this isnt my best work but anyways enjoy :)

empty.

that's what being in the astral plane feels like. but it's calm. most of your body is engulfed the stars that you once looked up to. now you were part of that. not as a star but as a being. your face is illuminated a white gold shimmer.

"love?" a voice echoes and before you know it, two familiar faces are close to yours.

"vik? jayce?" your voice echoes in the listless space. and it's only then do you register how.. normal they look again.

despite the stars that cover their body and shimmering light of the ethereal, they look like themselves. it was the viktor and jayce you knew. your hands move, your body floating as you hold viktor's face.

"it's you. viktor.." the mentioned male looks at you, guilt and love in his eyes. jayce's hand rests on the small of his back, a silent encouragement for the shorter man. "it's you.." your voice trembles. viktor can't look you in the eye until jayce's hand gently nudges him, and it's only then that he sees the absolute love pouring from your eyes. "i should be more concerned that we're stuck here, but fuck.. i missed seeing you."

you can't exactly cry in the astral plane. your tears end up sparkling and twinkling away and become part of the galaxy you've been pulled into.

"miláček.." you don't even realize how much you've missed his normal voice until now. even if it did have that ethereal echo, it was still him. your viktor. your forehead presses against his for just a moment.

"you... i have a lot to say, but let me be happy for just a moment." viktor tenses at your words, but he relaxes in your touch. you pull away to give jayce the love you missed giving him.

"jayce.. you did so well. more than well. i don't know everything of what you experienced, but you never gave up. didn't know i could be more thankful for you." jayce smiles brightly at your words as you hold his face between his hands in appreciation.

he looks at you with that look he used to give you and viktor when things we once normal. that silly lovesick grin on his face, but you know he can't express how thankful he is for you and him. "i missed you so much, too. you have no idea." he said softly.

"now, with that out of the way, what exactly happened?" the two men look at each other before slowly explaining how everything started and ended with them. and they definitely ended it, seeing as they were taken here by the crystal that jayce held so dear to him. "but why am i here then? i mean, it makes sense for you two to be here. you're basically soulmates."

"don't say that, miláček. we love you too. whether you're in this timeline or not." viktor said gently, floating to you and holding you in his arms. "we won't allow you to think so lowly like that. especially when jayce is around. and especially because that line of thinking does not seem to do well for us. my insecurities blinded me to want to fix everything to a dangerous degree.." he confesses.

"you’re ours whether you like it or not. and it's not like we can find a way to leave here." jayce smiled softly, his large arms wrapped around yours and viktor's shoulders. he hugs you two close, not missing a moment to hold you both in his arms.

"i guess it was really meant to be when i said you're both stuck with me forever." you joked, kissing them on the cheek. "but we're really stuck here?"

after your kisses, viktor starts giving his share of kisses. "it would seem so. not that i'm complaining." jayce joins in on the sweet kissing session, making sure to give as much as he could before you or viktor start telling him to stop. echoing laughter rings out in the empty void. the cold of the astral plane could never make you shiver when you were with the men who did nothing but give you warmth.

"maybe we'll just reincarnate. do you believe in reincarnation?" you asked between kisses. they pause for a moment, contemplating your words.

"eh.. well, i'm sure it wouldn't be crazy to believe in reincarnation." viktor said with the slight tilt of his head, his look silently conveying his uncertainty but uncaring of it.

"if we do get reincarnated, i'll make sure to find you two before anything else." jayce whispered, his face firm with determination and love.

"that's so sweet. and sappy." you laughed lightheartedly.

the two men can't help but join in with their own laughter and just for a moment, the stars twinkle a little brighter as if joining in on the joy.

#arcane viktor x reader #arcane viktor #arcane jayce #lol arcane #arcane x reader #league of legends jayce x reader #lol jayce x reader #jayce league of legends #jayce x reader #lol viktor x reader #lol viktor #league of legends viktor #viktor x reader #league of legends viktor x reader #viktor league of legends #viktor x reader x jayce #jayvik x reader #viktor arcane #league of legends x reader

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narnian-neverlander · 3 months ago

Text

What Could’ve Been [Viktor x GN!Reader]

Plot Summary: In which you find yourself in a world so similar yet so different to your own and are simply too tired of life knocking you down again and again to still play the selfless hero.

Word Count: 3,9k

Warnings: spoilers for Arcane Season 2, talk about character death and illness, suicidal thoughts, slightly suggestive at the end

A/N: I saw that alternate timeline and went ‘Ekko’s a stronger man than I am’ and went with that; actually wanted to write sth fluffy and happy, and this is wholesome-ish, but with some very bleak undertones so I might have to write some actual fluff to compensate. Also, the religious imagery wasn’t planned from the get go but it kinda happened and it is on brand for this man, I just decided to turn it on its head a little 🤷

I’m also very much using a translator for the Czech parts, so please bear with me and absolutely lemme know if you spot anything wrong!

“Interesting. When I told you about this last, you advised the exact opposite.”

You freeze mid movement, plate hovering an inch or so over the table you were setting. “Well I… I suppose I’ve changed my mind.”

The soft tap of a cane against the floor alerts you to him crossing the room, appearing in your peripheral as you put down the porcelain with shaky fingers. “A rather… hm, siginificant change in such a short time, wouldn’t you agree? Not to mention you acted like I was telling you for the first time.” He doesn’t receive an answer, so he keeps going. “I’ve had a theory for a while. I don’t believe I’ve told you about it, because really, it’s only a pipe dream at this point, but entertaining for the duller moments nonetheless: alternate timelines. The possibility of several different realities, all co-existing with each other simultaneously. Some would call the mere idea preposterous, I’m fully aware, but then again, how would we know for certain? How could we know? Unless one or more of said timelines happened to… overlap.” The silence that follows is deafening and heavy; a precursor of what’s to come. “You’re not originally from this world, are you?”

While he knows this is a conversation that needs to be had, the way you curl into yourself and seem to wither and grow small before his eyes makes him wish he could take it all back. He tries to catch your gaze, but you purposely avoid his as you drag yourself over to the couch. Body heavy and tired, you all but slump down into worn cushions, blankly staring into space as you weakly reply with “No. I’m not.”

He doesn’t move, nor does he speak, cause while he’d been expecting your answer to a degree, now that it’s out in the open he’s… unsure what to even do with it. It isn’t a worry for long, though, as you continue speaking, slow and weary. Like you had been expecting, dreading, this moment just as much as him.

“It wasn’t a… conscious choice. To come here, I mean. It was an accident really, I didn’t even know what had happened at first.” A weak chuckle. “This was a shock to me as much as it must’ve been for you.”

And what a shock it had been for you. To have been standing with your friends in the bowels of the Hexgates one minute and to wake up in an unfamiliar bed the next. Dizzily traipsing through a space that had felt familiar yet foreign all at once; pictures and mementos from times you couldn’t remember staring at you from every surface. And to have had Viktor come through the door, bag of baked goods under one arm, to find you in the living room of what should’ve been your home, looking every bit as lost as you felt. It had been a miracle you’d stayed standing then and there, with the way he’d looked: same lanky figure supported by a cane, same messy chestnut locks, same two beauty marks against the pale skin of his sharp face, same concern in his honey colored irises when he took in your state. But no dark circles borderlining bruises under his eyes, no hollowed, sunken in cheeks, no blood on his lips to betray another attack. And no Hexcore devouring him whole. Your downfall had come in the form of slender fingers gingerly wrapping around your forearm to try and steady you; a silent question and a gentle offer of help. One of those fingers wearing the very same ring you usually kept on a chain around your neck, because you’d always been too busy or too in your own head to just ask him. To offer him your heart, your life, your everything, if only he wanted it. Always too terrified of rejection, of losing him to his illness; too scared of fucking something until it was too late. And when your hand had come up in search for said necklace, a nervous habit that had developed at some point, and you’d found a matching ring on your own finger instead, you’d finally dissolved into a wailing, sobbing mess against his chest, never wanting to let go again.

And what a shock it had been for him. To have talked to you, not twenty minutes prior, an exchange of sleepy, lazy kisses and quiet murmurs, telling you he’d go get breakfast and be right back, watching as you’d curled back up under the blankets with a content sigh. To come through the door, expecting you still in bed and instead finding you in the middle of your living room, looking utterly lost and misplaced in your own home, an almost manic look in your eyes, staring at him like you’d seen a ghost. He’d approached you, carefully, like one would a wild caged animal, and then a simple touch of his had sent you into a meltdown. And at an absolute loss, he’d simply held you. Let you cry yourself to utter exhaustion in his arms, the both of you a heap on the floor, propped up against the back of the sofa. When you had finally, finally calmed down, you’d played it off as the aftershocks of a nightmare. The kind that makes you believe they’re real and keeps you trapped in them for what could feel like a lifetime. And Gods you’d looked like you had aged a lifetime while he was gone. And ever since that night you’d been… different. Getting lost in your own head more often than not. Suffering from nightmares almost every night. Migraines and something akin to epileptic seizures every once in a good while. He had let it go on, assuring you that if you needed anything he would be there for you, and in the following months, you’d seemed to settle and things had gone back to normal. Relatively. But it had been the memory loss that had made him suspicious. Or more so the fact that while some things remained, others seemed to have happened differently for you and some had never happened at all. Never having been able to leave well enough alone, he’d started digging for explanations. And now, at the end of his research, his most impossible theory proven right - he’s yet again at a loss of what to do. How to help you.

“I didn’t know how I got here, much less how to get back. From what I do understand about all of this, and it ain’t much, the thing that sent me to this world doesn’t even exist here. So at first I didn’t have much of a choice but to just… live. To pretend like everything was normal and I belonged here. But eventually I realized that even if I got the chance to go back, I didn’t want to. I wanted to be selfish, I wanted—“ Your voice cracks, thick with emotion and he watches your head drop forward like a doll’s whose strings have been cut, eyes downcast at your trembling hands. “I wanted to be happy again. And for once in my damn life I wanted it to last. It just never fucking lasts…”

Stride over to you and hold you tight, kiss you and tell you that everything would be alright, that you would figure this out together, like always. That’s what he should be doing. Every bone in his body tells him to, but just like so many other times in the past, his oh so brilliant mind prevents him. Tells him that there is no ‘together, like always’ because the person in front of him isn’t the person he’s known his whole life. Isn’t the person he married. Everything’s an ugly mess and he doesn’t mean for his next words to come across as cruel, doesn’t perceive them that way; blissfully unaware of the implications, he’s simply, truly curious.

“What would you do if you were to go back home?”

An inelegant snort leaves you and you wipe the back of your hand over your eyes in a desperate and vain attempt to stop the tears from flowing.

23 seconds.

You were counting, just to give you something to occupy your spiraling mind with, really.

23 seconds.

That’s how long it had taken him to no longer refer to this world, this apartment, him as your home. To prioritize whatever might be going in your other life. And you know it’s not fair, to be this upset with him, this version of him that you’ve been deceiving from the start; even though he has never wronged you. But you can’t help it. Guilt and regret would soon be all you’d have left again, so might as well leave him with some, too.

“Well… if I hadn’t gotten sucked into this mess, I would’ve killed myself by now. I guess I’d be getting back to that.”

The breath that escapes him sounds like you actually just sucker punched him in the gut and immediately makes you feel terrible about how casual and bitter you’d made it sound, but he’d wanted the truth and that was it. Limbs heavy und unsteady, you rise from your position on the couch and make your way over to the front door. “I’ll go take a walk or… you know, go do… whatever. Give you some space, time to think.” Your hand’s already on the door handle, but you pause and somehow find it in yourself to turn around and at least give him the courtesy of looking at him for what you’re about to say. “For what it’s worth, I never meant to let it go this far. It just became so… easy to pretend like things had always been like this. You made it easy. And while I’m sorry that I lied to you, tricked you, intentional or not, I got the chance to fall in love with you all over again. And I could never be sorry about that.”

You’re fairly certain you’ve never seen him move as fast as he does now and before you know it, you’re wrapped in a hug almost too tight, his cane landing on the carpeted floor next to you with a dull thump. “You cannot say things like that and expect me to just let you walk out of that door, I-“

Readjusting his hold on you, he cradles your head against his shoulder and loops his other arm around your middle, continuing in a hushed, gentle tone. “I can’t bear the thought of harm befalling you. Even worse, you harming yourself. In any timeline. Please, just stay. No matter what might happen in the future, just… stay with me. Right here.”

He means for it to be reassuring, comforting, loving, you know that. It’s not his fault that it has the exact opposite effect.

Wincing, a new wave of tears springs to your eyes and you remove yourself from his hold, but can’t bring yourself to let go completely; hands now linked between the two of you. “Viktor, I stole the body and life of a person you actually love. I don’t want you to force yourself to try and love me out of pity.”

“And why are you so certain that’s what this is?!” It surprises you, how genuinely upset he sounds, and a gasp is forced out of your throat when he wrenches his hands out of your grasp and his palms find your face, to force your gaze onto him and keep it there, wether you want to or not. The expression he’s wearing almost scares you; thick brows furrowed in anger and lips curled back in what could nearly be a snarl, but as soon as gold eyes find yours, red and puffy and so very desperate and grieving, whatever fire seemed to have been burning him up inside goes out all at once.

His shoulders drop and he rests his forehead against yours with a sigh, warm breath fanning over your face. “I’m sorry, moje lásko, please forgive me. I’m not angry with you, I just… I can not comprehend why you are so ready and willing to accept rejection, but will not even entertain the possibility that loving you comes as easy to me as your affections for me do to you. Why can you love every version of me, but I’m not allowed the same with every version of you?” He watches you blink owlishly, your mouth opening and closing several times and he’s not sure wether it’s endearing or heartbreaking, how clear it is that this possibility never even crossed your mind. “You act like this entire situation only penalizes me, when in reality, I’m not actually your Viktor, either, am I?”

He expects this to help, to give you a new perspective. To make it clear to you that you are both the same; you are not a villain in his story. And there is a smile on your lips, but it’s so small and sad that his stomach drops at the sight. “No, you’re not. You couldn’t be. My Viktor is gone.”

And all of a sudden, it makes so much sense. How sometimes you’d stare at him with the most haunted look in your eyes, like he was a dead man walking, ready to collapse at any given moment. How you’d grow frantic when he came back late from the academy. How you’d insisted on tagging along on the most mundane of tasks, always under the guise of wanting to spend more time with him, but really just keeping a close eye on him at all times. Though he suspects the former to be true; the chance to spend even a few more precious hours with a loved one you’d thought lost, who wouldn’t jump at that chance?

His world would simply seize spinning if you were no longer in it, he can’t even begin to imagine how you feel. How tormenting it must’ve been to see him everyday, a second chance dangling right in front of you, but never certain if you were to wake up back in a world where he was gone.

You’re in his arms again in a heartbeat, one hand carding through your hair, the other rubbing soothing patterns into your back; whispering sweet little nothings into your ear as you bury your face into the crook of his neck and sob. All so much like the day you arrived and saw him for the first time, and yet… softer. More intimate.

You stay like this until your bawling dies down to whimpers and sniffles at which point he gingerly coaxes you to look at him.

“Miláčku, listen to me. As it stands now, you have no way of going back to your original world.” He doesn’t call it your home anymore, you notice. “You did not ask for this, you did not choose this; you had it thrust upon you while going through enough pain and grief you considered taking your own life. For the love of everything, you needn’t feel guilty for wanting to use this chance to find happiness again. And you shouldn’t feel guilty if you continue to do so.” Still sniffling you gently caress his face, thumbs running over his chiseled cheekbones and heart stuttering when he leans into your touch. But then you catch sight of the ring on your finger again.

“I’m not… I’m not the person you married, Vik.” Unknowingly, you parrot his own thoughts back to him, but surprisingly enough, he finds he doesn’t much care anymore. He’s flabbergasted how he could ever even doubt for a second that it would matter which timeline you were originally from. Because it’s still you. Damn it all, it’s still you. “Maybe so. But I’ve seen the same kindness in you in those past few months that I’ve always known. The same wit. The same ambition and passion. All the things that made me love you in the first place. You said this gave you the chance to fall in love with me again; would you allow me the chance to do the same?”

The truth is, while you want to try and build a life here, you feel guilty. Guilty about the friends you left fighting a war. Guilty about taking over the life and joy of someone else, even if they are a different version of you. Guilty about forcing the man you love into a relationship with a person he technically doesn’t even know. All these months, you’d only ever reciprocated his affections, never initiated them, had barely let him touch you at all, because you’d always felt like somehow you were coercing him into cheating on someone he actually loved. But here he is now, telling you that he wants you, this version of you, all of you. Could you really do it? Leave behind everything and everyone you’ve ever known, for a chance at happiness, a fresh start? You had no guarantee that things would go smoothly in this universe either, after all. Wouldn’t you just be playing pretend for the rest of your life?

“So what, we’ll just… pretend like it’s the first time then?” you ask, a quiet breathless laugh accompanying your question. He shrugs and smiles at you. “Something like that. Falling in love with you again and again and again? I could imagine a worse fate.”

So could you. Much, much worse, in fact.

Your expression shifts somewhat without you even realizing and he immediately recognizes that he must’ve triggered some form of painful memory. He places tiny little kisses all over your face, murmuring apologies all the while and when you sigh in contentment it finally dawns on him that this is very much the first time you’ve let yourself enjoy being close with him since you got here. He doesn’t blame you; the moral dilemma that was forced on you would put anyone on edge and make them anxious about what they could allow themselves to experience without some form of consequences. He would prove to you that there would be none, he’d make sure of that; singlehandedly destroy them if they did decide to raise their ugly heads. That you didn’t always need to give and give and ask for nothing in return. That you could take what you wanted and not be punished for it. You’d taught him that after all.

“Moje světlo…?”

Gods have mercy on your soul, you never could say no to him when he used those damn pet names on you.

You crash your lips to his, desperate and practically starved; in direct contrast to all the sweet promises and gentle reassurances you just shared, there’s nothing romantic about it. It’s all tongues and teeth and absolutely filthy and it’s exactly what you need right now. Your back makes contact with the door you’d been oh so insistent on walking out of not even fifteen minutes ago, that thought now the furthest thing from your mind as his hands are already under your shirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Your head falls back against the worn wood with a thump as his lips find your neck, leaving marks and bruises for everyone to see and maybe the moan that escapes your throat with a broken version of his name coupled with how weak your knees already feel could’ve been embarrassing, but you don’t have it in yourself to care; it feels like it’s been years since he last kissed you like this. Touched you like this. The whine of protest as he pulls back is cut short when he drops to his knees in front of you, hands on your hips to keep you in place and placing on last kiss on your stomach before he puts some distance between you both, not more than a few inches really, but still too much for your liking. One hand goes to cover his own, while the other cups his face, trying to tug him closer again, but he refuses. Brows knitting together in confusion and frustration, you’re about to ask him what he thinks he’s doing, but he beats you to it.

“I won’t go further unless you tell me you want this.” You almost laugh, because he can not be serious. How much more obvious could you be? Your own body is doing half the talking for you, really. But of course that’s not exactly what he means. “I want you to admit to me, and more importantly to yourself, that you want this life. I want you to realize that it is perfectly alright for you to be selfish every now and again.”

His words trigger a memory from long ago, when you’d found him passed out on the desk in the lab one too many times. After you’d been done yelling at him, you’d told him that he couldn’t just always give and give and give until there was barely anything left of himself. That it was okay to be a little selfish and take things for himself every once in a while.

Take your own advice, liar.

A voice somewhere in the back of your head purrs bewitchingly and it’s right. You are still lying. Not to him though - to yourself. Telling yourself that you feel guilty for wanting to stay here, when in reality that’s how you should be feeling. But the truth, the real truth, is that you’re scared.

Scared of how little you actually care. About the friends you left fighting a war. About taking over the life and joy of someone else, even if they are a different version of you. About forcing the man you love into a relationship with a person he technically doesn’t even know. You haven’t truly cared about any of it from the get go; always too self righteous to admit it to yourself, though.

Practiced fingers slip from his cheek to the hair at the nape his neck and pull; he goes along willingly this time, head forced back and his eyes lock onto yours, right as fresh, hot tears start to travel down your face. But you’re done grieving; you are livid, plain and simple. “I want this…” you breathe out, so quiet he almost misses it. You don’t stay quiet, though, you can’t anymore, and your voice rises in volume with every sentence spoken. “I want to stay. I want a life with you. All blissful boredom and domesticity. It’s all I ever wanted. Why…? Why was even that too much to ask?!”

He doesn’t have the answer, but he does have the solution, delivered with a slight turn of his head and a kiss to your wrist.

“It wasn’t. It isn’t.”

Breaths heavy and irregular, you simply take in the sight of him: all disheveled hair and kiss swollen lips, pretty blush all the way down to his neck, eyes dark and pupils blown wide, only a thin ring of gold left, looking at you so longingly, on his knees for you and you alone; like a worshipper ready to commit any atrocity for the sake and love of their god.

“You can take what you want, anděli. No one will punish you for it. I won’t let them.”

Angel. Oh, the irony. Irony turned certainty. Certainty turned reality.

So take you would. And you wouldn’t bother looking back at the things you’d left behind.

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