#viktor fanfic

[hivemuthur]

kinda smutty but basically viktor x reader kinda modern au where he has to go to an event later, but reader distracts him by bringing him to bed and making out. eventually leads to multiple hickeys on his neck (i just know this man’s skin would bruise easily) which then leads to rushed makeup haul to find something that matches him to cover up. i love love love love love love love love love love love love love your writing! it’s so good!

Hi Anon! I see we share a common obsession with Viktor's neck. You match my freak.

Cuteness Aggression

viktorxgn!reader mature! kissing, or rather making out, slight dry humping and dirty talk

author’s note: Sue makes a cameo (or rather is mentioned in this fic), because I wanted it to be as inclusive as possible, therefore I am not mentioning Reader's skin tone. Other than that, it's just lovebombing fluff. Also heeh, it has a tiny bit of playful wrestling, because I am an inconsistent twat. Viktor's scent for this fic is: Hyde by Hiram Green.

word count: 2,1K

—

“Why are you looking at me like this?”

Viktor’s voice snapped you out of the wanderings of your deranged mind. Oh, and did your mind wander. It snaked itself beneath the leg of his woollen trousers, hugging his tiny ass so nicely. Then up, up his sleeve to place an imaginary kiss on the vein in the crook of his elbow and lick his stomach right where the belt would inevitably leave a dent in the skin.

Then, your imaginary tongue travelled up, making a stop at every freckle, only to leave a nasty bite mark somewhere in the middle of his chest. And maybe on his neck as well. Which was now flexing proudly from the V-shaped collar of his sweater, the tiniest bit of white shirt peeking from underneath it. A dark brown coat on top, framing him into a model example of someone who just looks effortlessly good.

You were kneeling on the bed, ogling him shamelessly, Viktor’s eyes pensive on you as he tried to squeeze the verdict out of your agape mouth. “Well? My eyes are up here, I will remind you.”

“I, uh…” you mumbled stupidly, swallowing a lump in your throat. “Yes, that looks good.” Eyes still fixed on him, because you forgot how to blink.

“I feel like I should change into something less slutty if this is your reaction. We wouldn’t want people at the charity gala throwing themselves at me, would we?” He smirked, looking at his nails nonchalantly, and suddenly you realised your face was burning.

“God, sorry,” you chuckled awkwardly and hid your face in your palms. “I just haven’t seen you all dressed up in a while.”

“No, no need to be sorry, I am immensely enjoying this, if you couldn’t tell by now,” he said smugly, shaking his coat off and throwing it over a chair. “I would take massive advantage of it if Jayce wasn’t picking me up in half an hour.” He took a couple of steps forward and dropped his cane on the mattress beside you.

“Well, maybe you could take a little advantage then?” you asked playfully, rising on your knees and pulling him by the belt to sit on the bed next to you. Straddling his hips, you wrapped your arms around his neck and licked his cheek all the way up to his temple. “I can’t believe you are abandoning me, looking like this, to flex in front of some STEM bros.”

“Ah, I solemnly swear to atone upon my return.” A low, suggestive whisper rumbled against your skin as his hands cradling your ass sent a jolt up your spine, and you involuntarily sunk deeper into his lap, forcing a grunt out of him. Viktor shot you a scolding look and chuckled, “If you ruin my pants, I’m taking yours. And you wouldn’t want that.”

“You better pray I don’t ruin you and that you can feel your legs when I’m done with you,” you breathed out, placing a trail of slick kisses on the tendon of his neck, and Viktor cackled, the pitch of his laugh embarrassingly high.

Playfully, he pushed you away, his lips forming a comical pout. “You cannot crumple me! We’ve been picking those clothes for an hour, ah—” he gasped as your teeth caught his earlobe. A giggle pushed itself past his mouth, and his hands squeezed your thighs firmly. “That’s it,” he stated, shrugging you off of him, only to crawl on top of you clumsily.

He pinned your hands above your head, lifted your shirt with his nose and blew a raspberry on your stomach, making you squirm and kick your legs around. “Please! I surrender, ah!” You screamed as he tickled your tummy with his nose and tongue.

Viktor lifted himself and shot you a look to check if you did, in fact, surrender and regretted instantly as you wrapped your legs around him and trapped him in a tight squeeze, forcing him to let out a startled huff. He landed with his chest flush against yours, your noses bumping each other.

“I am ready to suffer the consequences of crumpling you, mister,” you whispered against his lips, when a concern crossed your thoughts at the sight of a frown on his forehead. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, only my pride,” he snorted, kissing your neck. “If I knew some nice pants and a sweater would make you go so feral, I’d dress up every day.” You were flashed an incredulous grin and granted freedom of your hands, which you immediately used to tangle your fingers into Viktor’s hair and shove your tongue into his mouth.

He moaned, at first surprised, then just welcoming, when his hands snaked around your body to squeeze your waist and cup your ass once more. He rolled both of you to the side, but you wouldn’t have it and pushed him further to trap him underneath you.

“It seems the more I can’t have you, the more I want you. Something to think about,” you smirked and ground your hips into his mercilessly. Viktor groaned, his hands hovering tentatively around your thighs before slapping your ass playfully.

“I told you how I feel about my pants getting ruined or me getting crumpled, but you seem to be completely deaf,” Viktor huffed, utterly bemused by the sudden rush of want in you, as you licked his neck, making all sorts of obscene smacking sounds.

You cupped his face, your fingers digging into the base of his skull as your tongue traced his upper lip and the seam of his mouth, coaxing him to open. A laugh got caught in his throat as your nose pressed against his and you inhaled him deeply, licking the roof of his mouth and sending a content moan straight to his stomach.

His hips bucked beneath you, making a smile bloom across your lips. You tugged at his hair to expose his neck and placed a trail of loving pecks all the way down to his collar bone. Viktor writhed against you, sending threats in your direction, his breathy tone making them sound entirely unserious. “You have no idea what I am going to do to you when I come back.”

“Oh, baby, are you not enjoying my love?” You cooed against his skin, blowing on a new love mark you sucked into his neck.

“I am enjoying it thoroughly,” he grunted, pressing his half-hard cock up to meet your core and you whined into the crook of his shoulder, careful not to drool on his beautiful sweater. “But I have something around twenty minutes before Jayce gets here, and you are making me look like a whore.”

“But you make such a beautiful whore, Viktor, I can’t help it,” you wheezed theatrically into his ear, drawing another giggle this evening. “Also, this will make it look like you really cared about coming to the gala.” Without putting much thought into what you had just said, you resumed your work on spattering Viktor’s neck with little marks of affection.

And he let you, because it felt too great to stop. The weight of your hips so sweet on his pelvis that he could probably get off on it if he let you grind on him for a little while longer. Your hands groping him greedily, your usual roles suddenly switched, as he was the one panting and writhing for his dear life, praying that his crotch wouldn’t be damp after all of this.

He let himself be pulled by the bite on his lower lip, let his shirt slip out of his pants as you explored his stomach and stuffed your greedy fingers under his belt, tickling his navel. He allowed you to palm him through his pants, even though it had earned you a bite on the neck of your own.

You leeched onto his skin, chuckling between the small nips at his lips, a singular web-like strand of drool connecting your mouths. When you finally lifted to gaze upon your creation, Viktor looked like a fallen angel—his hair a complete mess, face and ears a darker shade of pink, eyes molten, lids hooded, and mouth slightly parted in a soft smile. And his clothes, well, crumpled like a thin paper sheet.

He traced his fingers under your t-shirt, rubbing circles on each of your sides. Admiring the mark that had begun to bloom on your collarbone, a realisation hit him. He was going to be a complete hot mess, his neck most likely stained with bruises. He clasped a hand to his mouth and whispered in exaggerated concern, “How bad is the damage?”

You cocked your head from side to side, smiling innocently, and he rolled his eyes, your name falling from his lips in a playful scold. Shrugging you off of himself, he reached to the bedside for your mirror and nearly choked at the state of his skin—red, bloodshot marks covering his neck, a slight swelling around the spots you bit on harder.

“Lásko, you have outdone yourself,” he sighed, tracing his fingertips across each of the love confessions you sucked into his skin. “And what am I going to do now, hm?”

“A turtleneck?” You laughed, waggling your eyebrows at him. “Or a scarf?”

“Yes, let’s make it even more obvious. Other ideas, and please let them be good?”

“I can suck on the rest of you, so the colour matches everywhere, ow!” You winced at the pinch on your ass and batted Viktor’s hand away. “Alright! Alright, I think Sue left something behind after the last time, let me check if it matches you.” Honest capitulation could be heard in your voice, as you slid off the bed to search for Sue’s foundation in the bathroom—the only person you knew that could match Viktor in the ghastly skin tone club.

You grabbed it triumphantly from the drawer under the sink and threw it in Viktor’s direction, before grabbing your make-up bag and kneeling in front of him on the bed.

“Lift, please,” you said flatly, propping his chin up, momentarily fixated on the way his Adam’s apple bobbed beneath your fingers. You gave his throat an affectionate squeeze and murmured, “Bye, bye hickeys,” making Viktor chuckle.

“You will see them again in the evening,” he said warmly, placing his hands on your thighs.

“Oh, you bet your ass I will. I am going to scrub this makeup off you the minute you step through the door,” you muttered absently, your focus fully on pounding the fluid onto your masterpiece.

 “I think this is my best work yet,” you announced proudly, adding more and more product, as the stubborn redness refused to disappear under Sue’s delicate cosmetics.

You had to use baby powder to set it, since none of your humble makeup collection items seemed to match Viktor’s skin tone, making him smell like a newborn, who happened to like birch tar and bergamot cologne.

You patted his cheek affectionately and passed him the mirror so he could evaluate whether the troubleshooting had proven successful, adding in a flat, nasal tone, “We do not accept refunds.”

“Not bad,” he hummed, flexing his neck, which immediately made you weak in your knees.

“I hope you understand I will have to make you squirm for this later, yes?” he said matter-of-factly, slapping his palms flat on your thighs, his eyebrows lifted in expectation.

You nodded and kept nodding until Viktor smiled and your face twisted into a dumb grin. “That’s settled then,” he stated with one final firm pat on your legs and lifted himself off the bed. He grabbed his cane, coat, checked his phone and mumbled something about Jayce already waiting downstairs.

You walked up to him, pinching his ass and picking at his hair, your hands wandering as you tried to straighten his clothes and put his shirt back in place. Before leaving, he pulled you into a tight hug and whispered against your lips, “Thank you. I’m much less nervous than I was half an hour ago.”

“Hmm, no worries,” you murmured between soft kisses placed on his beauty marks. “I am so very proud of you; I hope you know this.”

“Oh yes, after today I am convinced that if you could, you would wear my skin as a pelt,” he chuckled against your neck, his breath fanning your skin with a warm breeze. “I would have to make sure it’s covered with hickeys before that,” you said, adjusting his collar. “And I would never, ever take it off.”

[hrtwve]

dissociate ౨ৎ

౨ৎ about ─── you died moons ago. now, you sit, running your hands through viktor's hair as stars pass around you.

or: viktor shares bad news. (viktor x gn! reader)

౨ৎ cw ─── angst heavy, mentions of death, physical intimacy (mwah), sexual implications if you squint.

author notes can be found at the end of each fanfiction ⟡ ⋆˚

(total w.c 1.2k)

₊˚⊹ ───

Light fragments fall from elsewhere, drawing bodies closer to the centre of existence; crystals, broken, dance. There is blinding, piercing, light balanced by dark which exudes everywhere. Memories faded from view, burning through the mind in a supernova crashing across space; memories of life now gone. The echoes of past drift through this place, cascading down in waterfalls of rainbow and pooling through the air. The ground is hollow, the sky pure. Stars glitter the lining of the horizon and burn through forms, hands and heads barely visible in the glow. Glorious technicolour spins, raining o'er static objects.

Your fingers run their steady hand through his soft hair, the sensation quite real, nerve impulses binding to the shape of a caress to maintain response. Yet your nerves were no more, shattered by the mere mention of nightmare, the very core that pulled you, strangled you, straight through its heart. Your nails find his scalp, tickling his head before returning to the soft mass of glittering fibre. A low hum sounds from his parted lips, head lolled onto its side, comfortably situated in your lap. His weight is light, his cheek locking into your leg like a lost piece of a forgotten puzzle. His shoulders rise and fall with a heavy sigh, a break in his thoughts, a signal. Your hand continues its journey.

"I do not wish to alarm you." His voice barely below a whisper, accent dripping from his tongue, bleeds into the air. His hands are lulled, placed adjacent to his face, hair is messy against your form as it flows beautifully, rivers of white drooping along high cheekbones. He sighs yet again, the pause in his continuation a clear sign of heavy heart. You almost wonder if he will complete the statement, stomach-turning in noughts from your quick worry, although your hands still find themselves absentmindedly stroking curls. "But," Another beat. "I feel I am slowly... decaying."

You half expect him to turn, to face your wide eyes as tears threaten to fall. Yet he reclines, stagnant, like a memory frozen in time. Body glittering with the strength of a thousand suns, he lays, surrounded by the blanketed mist of beams. The light, a sacred entity to this space, without it ─ oblivion. A single droplet topples down your cheek, rushing a translucent tear behind. Salted water splashing against the high bones in his face, dissipating into nothing when it lands. He stirs, your hand moving to accommodate the new position of his head, brushing soothing patterns into his hairline. Glittering gold eyes meet wandering stare, weeping, tearful, and a furrow appears in between the folds of his brow.

"Don't shed tears for a man predestined for a premature death." He mutters, taking one of his striking hands, colours drifting through the transparent skin, and placing his fingertips against your jaw. The friction barely scratches the surface, nails briefly leaving their mark on your star-clustered skin. Soft, gentle, his features dance across his face in haze covered glow, affection dripping from the droop of his eye, the parting of his lip.

Nature strikes another good soul from its pedestal, although he was always given fewer opportunities than the others. From childhood, born different, odd. Youth prejudice is born as maturity arrives, resulting in isolation from those he loved most. Outcast, he found solace in intimacy within his own soul, introverted, shy; but not helpless. Until compassion forgave his innocent mind, blessing him an angel. Childhood love blooms into bouquet in adulthood; intimacy beckoning from a hollow wound of loneliness. Your fingers tangling in accidental hallway bumps, resulting in longing glances; picturing the coming hours when dusk had finally settled. Souls intertwined, abandonment could not be pondered. Galaxies withheld your love, your passion, you would dissipate as he did.

"I feel I must." You breathe, highlights dancing through your dreams, floating on a cloud of affection. Reaching higher, his calloused fingers cup your cheek, rubbing slow circles into your skin. Time ticks on like a slow heartbeat, the wave of love bleeding through the atmosphere in tidal fashion. "I care for you so, Viktor."

The comment alerts him, frightens him, from his familiar position. He changes his nature as he rises, straightening himself away from your grasp. You twist, finding solace in his gaze, a soft expression momentarily dances before a serious brow plays upon his features. Shards of stardust play against his cheek, colours dancing through his locks, brushing down the sides of his face. Respect twangs upon your heart strings, like a bard on a lyre — he looks, feels, dream-like. The sensation of fingertips caresses your skin like nothing before, warming your soul in the colours of amber. In his movements, he brings your faces together, kissing your foreheads, embracing minds into one.

"Do not fret." The words pour like honey, yet they still lay heavy on your already breaking heart. You find your hands climbing, losing themselves in his already messy hair. Your breaths mingle, if it were temperate you would feel the air leave and form clouds between your bodies. "This was always meant to be," He pauses, pulling his head back to stare into your eyes, yet never removing his hands from their position. "Surely you were aware?"

A recollection of suffering plaques your downtrodden mind, swimming through pools of sorrow and lapping in an ocean of despair. Your attempt to strangle the siren's call ultimately resulted in failure, the depressing truth now set out before you; anticipation returning as dred. You envisioned his passing, decaying from the mortal domain, returning to the cosmos of wence he came; materialised in the stars above. Yet this place was neither Heaven or Hell, and both parties would be banished in future; you weren't aware of how soon this future would be.

"I was." You breathe, tickling your fingers up his sideburn and into his platinum hair, tugging in a quick sign of affection. Catching a strand in between your digits, you twirl the curl through and allow it to spring back, meeting its maker. Although your tears have left their parting gift, your chest tightens with sorrow, becoming increasingly agonising and bubbling deep within your throat. A choke escapes your throat, "I was not quite aware of the immediate action."

His eyes dare part for yours as the words fall from your whisper, blowing into his psyche, toppling his confidence. In this moment you are forever, timeless, stuck in an everlasting loop of forgiveness and pain. He pulls you towards him once more, connecting your bodies in a state of pure bliss, lips brushing yours in a delicate kiss. His hands roam, traversing the back of your head like buried treasure, padding their way across the skin lying there. You press a quick sound into his lips, but it is quickly lost in the entanglement of both body and mind. Your fingertips dance against his cheekbones, forgetting, only for an instant, that you were lost to your mortal frame. He retreats for a moment, tucking a solitary strand behind your ear into its rightful place.

"For now, my love, I shall remain," He whispers, so low that the cosmos could bearly apprehend, placing a solitary kiss on the tip of your nose, and wrapping your body closer to his chest. Blossomed warmth fills your once hollow chest, an urge to believe in the present.

₊˚⊹ ───

i hope you enjoyed my first offical post!. i really adore the shots within season 2 picturing viktor, jayce, or sky in the beautiful galaxy space, where their features (save face and hands) are glowing white; it's just so breathtaking. as you can probably tell, my love for those moments brought me to writing this short piece! i must say this is shorter than i am used to writing, but think of it as a short piece to get me back into the swing of things... anyway i love you so much for making it this far mwah! x

[the-amorous-triune]

CHAPTER 3 HAS BEEN POSTED

The Science of persuasion! Get a glimpse into the past of baby Viktor and Jayce 💜

A much more confident chapter but still fill of important information. And yes in this au Viktor is trans, if you don't care for it don't interact 🖤

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62328925/chapters/159664129#workskin

[s0ft-d3cay]

Smokey Horizon

Viktor x Male Reader | I couldn't get the idea of Viktor smoking out of my head, I need this man to shotgun a hit to me IMMEDIATELY. All that aside, low-key I really enjoyed writing this one and I hope you all enjoy it as well!!

Warnings: smoking, sharing cigarettes, lots of longing(intimately), teasing(as always)

WC: 1,019

The contrast of Piltover’s bright marble white's, gray's, and golden outlines were muted in shadows. White smoke dancing and caressing Y/N at every exhale, utterly content in the small hidden area, leaned against pristine bricks within the dimmed alleyway. Eyes focused towards his own fingers and cigarette, flickering towards the opposite wall in deep thought. Gazing deep pools of secluded space and secrets soon pinpoint Viktor from a distance, a modest smirk appears as he nods the scientist over. His thoughts washed away as a friendly fond expression soften over his features.

"You’re late." He spoke, fishing out his pack. A single roll of hand wrapped cigarettes, offered up. Always the same with Y/N, the soft warm spot the Viktor engraved with his stare and wit. His mere presence setting the mood between the two, be it playful, serious, or even flirty. Much of their past exchanges were quiet, a buzzing pause filled with surrendering serenity.

Even with the occasional small talk that bubbles from Viktor’s brilliant mind, what used to be mumbled calculations morphed to soothing rambles and incoherent scientific explanations. And it later became a secret crave for Y/N to hear. What was then hard to follow theories evolve to anticipated updates, some of which Y/N would add his own feedback and ideas to. Watchful of the mist reaching from his lips, the way his hands expressed along with his words, hypnotized.

"I don’t remember our arrangement being a timely one. When did that change?" Viktor replies, golden gaze burning with every glance. His slender fingers grasping the cigarette, placing it with careful precision. Y/N then swaps out the box for his lighter, holding it up with a click, igniting the flame. "Since your work days became longer." He answers with a false pout, his teeth chewing his lip to keep from grinning. Enthralled in the way the man leaned toward the lit flame, the concentrated scrunch of his brows as the honey embers ignited.

He only then flips the lighter closed, once Viktor pulls away. Taking in his own long hit. Allowing the dense substance entering his lungs to settle, body numbing from the inside out. "I told you, I would be busy for the foreseeable future." The scientist reminded, words almost lost to Y/N, too focused on not staring at the other’s lips. Or how his expression softened, lines of stress and worry dwindling. Taking another hit as he muffled out a chuckle, attempting to mask his heart flutter.

Y/N nods, "Must've slipped my mind. Sounds like I'm starting to become a distraction." That subtle pull of a small grin caught Y/N's stare and heart in a shared hiccup. Shifting his attention down towards his cigarette with forced will, thumb fiddling with the end. Suppressing the embarrassed flush threatening below his skin, warming beneath the surface.

Vision cleared even with the smokey after, golden sun cascading through rays of amber geomagnetic shapes. Radiant in familiar hazy embers, "You’re distracting has a tendency of the opposite affect, I’m afraid." Viktor thoughtfully countered. A canvas usually hollowed and focus elsewhere, now intrigued with Y/N. Fostering the movements of his hand, each rhythmic sway followed by a line of puppeteer-ed gray strings, billowing aside.

Y/N nodded again, his attention split on Viktor's tone and words. Each somehow different from one another. He hums out a soft breath, pushing off the opposite wall, breaking the toed line between them. Resting beside the scientist, their shoulders barely brushing. "At least you're taking a break." A hint of relief tailing the words, affectionate. Lingering in the silence awhile longer, lying to himself through his own word choice, shoving the ever-growing affection elsewhere. Stubbing out the leftover ember, twisting and tapping it before tossing the end deeper within the alley. 

Strings of smoke now surrounding the two within imperfect loops, "I could use a distraction like you." He states, a soft rumbled chuckle ricocheted after, the half smoked cigarette moved towards Y/N. A silent offer, cold fingers barely brushed warm lips as he gently took it between his lips. Heated gaze of honeyed hazel flickered over Y/N, an expression he himself had made prior. Openly staring, heightened, and too close of their closing proximity.

Pinpricks of shivers and a looming pull surges between them. Body warmth being shared, their shoulders now pressed along to their arms. Side by side, the two man were somewhat the same height but now. With Y/N leaning lower against the wall, Viktor towered over him in mere inches. Pulling away from the cigarette, lungs beginning to strain around the held smoke. Warming his ever-heating chest, a furnace resistance of coal, of allowing his desire to truly flourish.

Each second passing consumed Y/N, the chance to be so close to Viktor. So, intimate with the normally reserved man. One who played at a distance, one who’d test the waters before tempting the other closer. Daring for Y/N to cross the line. "...you should get going." Y/N whispers, stray wisps of gray smoke falling from his mouth. He briefly turned his head to exhale the rest, swallowing his excitement in what could've been.

His gaze reconnects with Viktor’s, breath stuttering, remaining in place. His body staying pressed to the brick. Still inches away…a small step and head tilt. "Hm, perhaps." He utters softly, a hint of reluctance paired along. Y/N chuckles, snatching the cigarette. Rolling the paper between his fingers, shifting to fully face him. Head resting on the wall as he looks up towards the other.

"You're lingering, genius." The man teases. The light of sunset falling over the corners, the line of light now cascading over them in shadowy concealment. Setting a physical change in within their dynamic, "You don't seem to mind when I do, linger that is." Viktor returned, seemingly ignoring the other's press to leave. Not, that that was a bad thing by any means. Y/N felt his lips pull, his heart pounding devotion embedding its spread through his chest. Higher than any cigarette could give him, that tender kindness of puppy love. Indulging himself in his own mirrored lingering.

"And you don't either."

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the rights of any of the characters I write about, all the rights go to their respective creators.

[raracha]

I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE I'M SO VIKTOR STARVED, SOMEONE PLEASE RECOMMEND VIKTOR FICS

[ihopeinevergetsoberr]

academic rivals request! viktor x fem!reader, nsfw

request: @4-leafed pls... if u have time pls write a viktor x reader that r both geniuses at the academy but very much toe the line of rivalry and sexual tension...i love competitive smart people that fall in love when the rivalry becomes respect ... and they FREAK IT!!! possibly in a lab ! up to you : 3c

i liked this request so much that i ended up writing a decent-ish one-shot….

update: i wrote a part 2 because it was highly requested! you can read it here :)

rating: explicit

word count: 3,5k

warnings: academic rivals. LOTS of dialogue and bickering. dubious science because i skipped it in school, had to do some basic chemistry revision to write this pornographic catastrophe, so please pat me on the back. rough sex? rough… foreplay, that’s for sure. dirty talk, if you can call bickering that. penetration. reader tries to slap viktor, spits in his mouth and he cums in his pants. normally, i only write vanilla stuff, so i have no idea how it turned out THIS kinky (at least for me okay). not proofread (yet). nsfw under the cut:

—

“How do you take your coffee?”

His voice betrays the feeble intention of civility, fusing that polite inquiry into a hiss—a phonetic torture you didn’t even know could occur before. So much for killing you with kindness. Outstaging quips by desecrating courtesies. 

“I don’t care,” you mutter on autopilot. Can’t let him in on any personal preferences, no matter how insignificant. “Just don’t put arsenic in it.” 

Viktor scoffs. Puts the kettle away and peers at you over his shoulder, all wretchedly complacent. 

“So the rest of the periodic table is welcome, I presume?” 

Viktor. The local Nikola Tesla knock-off. Never a moment of peace with him; and the fierce taste of competition grows coppery in your mouth whenever he’s in your sight—the most handsome trigger of your cheek-biting reflex.

His name is an insult on your lips and you want to taste it. Chew it, crush it with your teeth and spit right out, preferably aiming for those poignant eyes seeking you in every classroom—so eager to light up with objection the second your opinion differs from his. 

Always the first prick to disparage your input. A never-resting generator of all the meticulous ways to denounce your projects. 

“If I may.” 

Sickeningly polite, too. With that lithe finger pointing in the air— so irritatingly comical. He may not, but there isn’t a chance he’ll shut up, now, is there?

And so he’d clear his throat, straightening his tie in that ridiculously solemn fashion. As if stepping on a pedestal to deliver a life-changing speech—not some shallow nitpicking regarding your circuit breakers. All eyes on him while his kept staring only into your soul. Special treatment, if you will. 

You will not.

“Using magnetic frames is careless,” he’d state. With his hand imposingly pointing to the blueprint on your slide. “Copper coils may oxidize. Not to mention the overheating. I would use thermoplastics. They’re significantly more efficient. And heat-resistant.”

Oh please. Like someone here gives a shit about what you’d use. 

But you can’t say that. Not in a room full of professors. And, judging from the countless nods of approval, the shits were, in fact, being given. 

“Too risky,” you oppose. “Thermoplastics often degrade at high temperatures. Electric insulation is not worth the damage of releasing hydrocarbons. I assumed that you’d be aware of that, Viktor. But I suppose that was an omission on my part.” 

More nods of approval, now in your favour. Here it goes again—the ever-lasting spectacle of hatred. Elegant, when entertaining the audience. Anything but discreet, in private. A perpetually drawn game of chess. By repetition, not agreement. Both of you refuse to retreat until checkmate. 

Oh yes, the sentiment was mutual. You and Viktor were notorious for tearing at each other's throats. The things you’d sacrifice to make that more than a mere metaphor, though. To pull him by that neat tie to sweet asphyxiation and hear him rasp for mercy with eyes full of pathetic condemnation. And he dreamed of that, too. His cane was itching to give you a smack—to paint your behind a plum so deep you’ll have troubles sitting without wincing. When it came to making metaphors literal, he’d pick being the pain in your ass.

However, your mentors couldn’t care less about the rivalry. The Collegiate Inventors Competition was coming up. And who could possibly make better candidates than two greatest minds of the engineering department, with academic excellence so accurately neck and neck that both of your names now occupy the honorary first place in every ranking table? 

That’s how you ended up with your sentence—three weeks of after-hours cooperation in the lab with the incorrigible bastard himself, a quarter of which you’d already successfully wasted on pointless bickering. Well, not without achieving some common grounds. The choice of prototype landed on one of your personal ambitions—a wearable exoskeleton for post-surgery rehabilitation, with plenty of robotics involved. Endorsed by Viktor, for once. The greater good must have swallowed even his dispute. Off to a nice start, if someone were to ask you.

However, the first issues struck early: on the very stage of development. Viktor volunteered for modelling: meaning, the framework would be custom, to accommodate his spine specifically. An object lesson for everyone involved, it would seem—but only in an ideal world. Which, considering what you had at hand (acrimony, bitterness, an entire picky bit of gall), was filtered out by default.

Now, five gruesome days and who’s-even-counting-anymore restarts later, you’re nowhere near close to at least a draft, yet borderline keen on murdering each other. And you’re certain the latter is approaching. He did just contemplate putting arsenic in your cup, after all. 

Viktor stirs the coffee. Watches his reflection smudge in the dark, whirly water, shooting you an askance glance from beneath thick brows when you start stirring yours—the spoon clanking a tad too loud, as if you were doing it on purpose. Which, you undoubtedly were. 

“Stop that,” he groans, almost leaping out of his chair. Heavy, disturbed gaze meets your cheeky simper. “You don’t have to stir it so thoroughly. It’s not like you take it with sugar anyway.”

“Of course.” You shrug. “I don’t drink slop.”

“Oh, I figured. There’s nothing sweet about you, so why would your coffee be any different?”

“There’s plenty of sweetness about me. I simply don’t squander it on entitled pricks.” 

That finally grounds him. And you’re giddy for the way his sturdy hand grips the cup so hard that it almost shatters into his palm, knuckles growing pale enough to match the porcelain. More so when you take a loud, languid sip, feigning innocence. Fully wallowing in his darling, defeated speechlessness. 

“Excuse you,” he mutters. “Entitled?!” 

“So you agree with the ‘prick’ part?” 

“Yes, and I take great pride in it. You may mark me flustered.” 

“Don’t forget to bust in your pants.”

Viktor sneers: chapped lip twitching, scowl growing defensive. Lanky legs untangle as he rises to his feet, towering above you in an angry lean on his cane—long frame transforming into your personal, scrawny menace, pissed exhale sharp and nasal above your head. And you admit to looking small beneath him—all hunched shoulders, weak smile finally tumbling lopsided. 

“Don’t you dare call me entitled,” he demands—and means it. It’s palpable in the way he twists the handle of his cane, the squeaky sound violently scratching your brain. “I sweated blood to achieve my privileges in this establishment.”

You huff, rolling your eyes. “So did I, and yet you keep ordering me around as if I’m some braindead apprentice. We’re counterparts, Viktor. You’re supposed to be mindful of my perspective.”

“I never see you being mindful of mine,” he counters.

And, well. You can’t argue with that. 

Your coffee break continued in avoidant silence, but the ambience simply reeked of hostility—stifling enough to make you leave the lab feet first. The deadline’s chokehold besieging your neck wasn’t of any help, either—you had to submit the draft for approval by Sunday. And, so far, you haven’t even agreed on the design plan. 

You shoot Viktor a reluctant glance. Pensive, he sat slouched over his parchment, emitting pure peril. Like his shoulder blades might stab you if you attempt a single tap, belligerently peeking through the thin shirt. You tucked your lip under your teeth, chewing hard, tongue running over every small, neurotic wound inside your mouth. Fruitless negotiations held a special spot amongst your least favourite endeavours, but this conundrum called for a desperate measure.

“Viktor.” You winced at how chocked up it came out. He noticed that, too—because of course he did—turning in his chair to nod at you, ever so shit-eatingly. Lancing eyes scrutinised their way up to your face. What an affront. 

“Yes?” Always chiding in that condescending tone of his. Hissy ‘s’ echoed in the lab, gnawing at your nerves. 

“We have to submit something by the end of this week. Let’s at least decide on the blueprint.” 

“Fine.” He shrugged, returning to his sketch. “We’re going with mine.” 

“No!” You snapped. “We’re coming up with a new one. Together.” 

Viktor hummed in mock consideration. The strand of hair he’s been twirling unraveled, claiming more attention than you deemed him worthy of. Sighing, he lazily reached for your graph, frowning as his eyes started skimming over the scribbles. You made your way to the desk, claiming a spot behind his shoulder. That required a tacit truce. 

“You really want to wield… hydraulic actuators?” He winced, looking up at you. Had your breath hitching at that respectful attempt, the effort prominent in the very way he uttered those words—as if struggling to filter out swear ones. 

“Yes,” you mustered. “For high power.” 

“But they’re so heavy.”  

“Well, what would you use?” 

He chuckled—rich and malicious. Flipped the page and finally averted those curious eyes, arching a bushy brow. 

“I thought no one gave a… crap about what I’d use.” 

Oh, well. It felt nice while it lasted. 

“How did you even—“

“You ought to be more discreet with your vitriol,” he retorted. “I’ll let you know that I’m a decent lip-reader.” 

“Then don’t stare at my mouth next time. What would you use, Viktor?” 

Now that left you both startled. His fingers stilled above the diagram, flexing in disbelief, hollow cheeks hued a puzzled rouge as you almost chomped your tongue off, showing an embarrassed curse back into the depth of your throat. 

“Ahem. Electric motors,” he chanted, pretending to overlook the slip-up. And for once, you were grateful for his tact. 

“I see. Well, er… put that down, please.” 

He instantly complied, fetching a pen. Left you to reflect on your misery to the rhythmic sound of his scrawling, pressing a sweaty palm to his forehead. 

“Right.” He sighed. “What about the power supply?”

“Rechargeable batteries?” You suggested weakly. “Lithium-ion.”

“Very well. Frame?”

“Something durable. Titanium?” 

“Absolutely not,” he scoffed, pushing the notes away. “Why must you always insist on using the heaviest equipment?”

“I don’t know, corrosion resistance?” You muttered back, hovering over him. “Biocompatibility?”

“That’s perfectly manageable with carbon fiber!”

“So it shatters after the tiniest bump? Bravo, Viktor, how ingenious.” 

He lurches forward—rigid breath quivering over yours. Close enough to crush that thick skull with your forehead—if only you ventured, that is. But, alas, you’re not as brave just yet. Some brief eye-stabbing is about all you’re good for. 

“Fine,” he agrees, pulling away. “We’ll use aluminium alloys. Corrosion resistant and easy to machine. No one wins. Does that suffice?” 

“Yes. Now will you finally let me take your measurements for the sketch?”

He doesn’t answer—at least not verbally. Merely stands up and nods to the measuring tape, face still heavily contorted with displeasure. But you don’t oblige just yet. How can you, when Viktor’s fingers suddenly reach for his collar, fumbling with the button? And—oh no—now they’re sliding lower, reiterating once, twice, thrice, until his chest (flushed, but that might just be wishful thinking) is fully peeking out, teasing the smooth scrap of ivory skin. 

“What… are you doing?” You mumble, utterly startled. 

“…Undressing?” He says matter-of-factly, looking up at you so askance as if you’d just asked him if the sky is blue. One more ministration and the shirt is neatly folded next to the parchment—waiting for you to be through with the measurements to be slid back on his bony shoulders. 

“That, I can tell,” you mumble. “Why did you undress?”

Viktor’s gaze daggers into you again. “Don’t tell me you were actually intending to measure me clothed? Can you not comprehend precision?”

“Precision?”

“The prototype is expected to cling to me. I don’t see how that’s achievable with my shirt on— I assumed that was rather obvious.”

“Shut the fuck up.” 

“Ah, sweet civility. I even started worrying that other entitled pricks must’ve depleted your decorum, but it seems like you saved some up for me after all. I’m flattered, really—“ 

You don’t even register when it happens.

Next thing you see is Viktor seizing your wrist—sternly yanking your slap off his face before it gets the chance to land there in a flared handprint. Nothing but pure rage and prickliness—right where his short nails are lancing your skin, engraving an ugly bracelet you’ll wear for hours.

Well, maybe there is something else. Something inexplicable, and tremendous—deep in the way your eyes keep drifting south—where his pants sling low on defined hips, and the pretty trail of dark hair runs from navel to waistband—no doubt circling exactly what you manage to make out in the convex slope of his crotch. And you want to slap him for that, too—sonorous, and frenetic. Going in again with full force, but his force always turns out to be fuller—and in an instance he firmly twists your arm, pinning it behind your back—pale face barely five inches away from your flushed one. 

What happens next is beyond any explanations. Later, he’ll blame it on inertia—that stupid urge to maintain the speed, to stay in motion with your messy antics until some external force stops him—a simple need to claim you before the inevitable collision.

But there’s no inertia in escalation. In the way his free hand grabs you by the nape and clashes agape mouths together, teeth bumping hard enough to make you consider booking a dentist appointment later. Not a sign of inertia when you grab him, either—a little clumsy through the sharp pain in your twisted arm—bold fingers raking his scalp in a vengeful tug on his hair. 

And it’s more than a kiss. If anything, it looks like you’re trying to eat him—tongue out and thrusting into his throat so fiercely that he gags on it, almost tearing up. Now you know what sheer desperation sounds like, and it’s grunting against your mouth, suddenly pitching to a pathetic moan when you grab a handful of chestnut hair and pull so hard that his eyes roll back, lean frame shaking under your violent approach. You use that startled momentum to try and pry your arm free, but he still keeps it in place. 

“You’re hurting me!” You hiss, attacking his neck—the very one you always shamefully admitted to finding the sexiest any man can possess, and your teeth roughly pinch at his voice box, coaxing another whine. 

“Good.” He groans with spite. “I hope I am.” 

And yet, he releases your aching arm, trading it for a calculated squeeze of your waist. But the audacity overshadows his little mercy. You instantly use the unrestrained privileges to force a finger into his mouth—astounded at the way he instantly opens up, almost mockingly pliant. More so when you spit on his tongue, sparing no shame—as if trying to rile him up beyond recognition. Grinning, when your saliva dribbles down his chin. 

“Ah.” He huffs, instantly licking up the remnants. “Thank you. Ever so disrespectful.”

“You haven’t earned my respect,” you lie, nudging him towards the chair. Not even bothering to wait until he lands, impatient hands already messing with his belt—so treacherously earnest as you shake, unfastening the buckle, and the bastard chuckles at that, looking down at your eager work. 

“That’s a new low, then,” murmurs coyly, helping you into his lap, heavy head leisurely thrown back. “Sleeping with someone you don’t respect.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Oh yes. You’re about to.” 

You glare at him from under heavy lids, but the anger refuses to linger—not when he stares back full of indignant awe, so clearly basking in your attention. With his cock half-springing out of undone pants, shamelessly twitching against your palm. And not a single breath was hitched to conceal his excitement. 

“Must you always be so insufferable?” You reproach, pushing his hair back—too domestic for your own liking, and yet it doesn’t feel unfitting. Especially when he leans into your hand, welcoming your touch on his sweaty forehead—like he wanted you to feel it fever up with want.

“No.” He shakes his head. “But if it can grant me this, I’ll triple the effort.” 

“What happened to new lows? You don’t have a fraction of respect for me, either.”

“You’re right.” He shrugs. “Fractions could never encapsulate my tribute to you.”

And his hand slipped under your skirt, shakily crawling home—precisely where you’d never confess to needing him a mere minute ago. But the sentiment did a decent job at diluting your rancour. There came no protest when he introduced two long fingers into your underwear, openly gasping at the evident dampness. And you allowed him that with no regrets. Moreover, you helpfully sank yourself knuckle deep, wincing at the brief burn, arms wrapping around his neck as he sweetly looked up, seeking your  permission. Which was instantly found in the pretty moan you spilled into his mouth, slick tongues back at their futile attempts to strangle each other. 

However, your patience was running thin. As much as you wanted to indulge in proper foreplay, whatever masochistic dance he exposed you to had you in agony ever since it started—and it was getting unbearable to ignore the ache, no matter how bad Viktor  craved to postpone the main course. 

Your thighs clenched hard as you crouched above him, fingers wrapping around the hilt to awkwardly line the tip up with your cunt—the slick sound of it slowly sliding down suddenly igniting some tender bashfulness. Like you didn’t just spit in his mouth with a vile smirk. Like he never had to confine you from slapping him in the face. 

That stretch felt different from the one after his fingers. Significantly richer, it made you whine—a pitiful sound reverberating against his skin as you held on tighter and allowed him to bottom out, savouring every little crevice inside you. Raw, yet neither of you seemed to care—that concern was pushed alongside your underwear, then forgotten altogether when your walls clenched him, offering tight bliss. 

“Move,” you demanded, grabbing him by the chin. Viktor rasped something back, but you didn’t catch it—already too busy tongue-fucking his pretty neck, turning your teeth into sharp tools ready to stain it mauve with bites. 

And he complied again. One hand trembled on your hip while the other crawled between your legs—first missing your clit in the chaotic pace of thrusts, then finding it again as it grazed his fingertips. So cheeky when he dared to pinch it, avenging every pull on his hair. Though, he couldn’t gloat in your wince. Not when it clearly was one of the pleasured kind. 

But you didn’t feel like letting him regain composure. You already missed his husky groans—ached to test what else fucking you could make him mutter. Fogy gaze found his face again, softening at the sight—all wet forehead full of concentrated creases and thin lips bitten to bloodless paleness. 

You took over. Let him lean back and rest as you roughly rode him into the chair—and for that he gave you a grateful moan, the insistent thumb toying with your clit never stopping even for an instant. Good with his hands, and he knew it—proudly grinned when you struggled to keep going, taut legs treacherously giving up astride him. 

That didn’t please you in the slightest. You wanted him to be close, too: slid a hand up his chest and angrily tugged at one nipple—chortling when his mouth dropped in a stunned gasp. Bewildered, but he didn’t mind it—amber eyes squeezed shut when his head lolled, and you finally got his lovely moans back—raspier than before, ravenous enough to make your head spin. 

You could already feel it, pulsing somewhere deep within. Blurry vision couldn’t make him out anymore, the lab smudging into a mess of weird shapes—you were about to cum, hard, and Viktor threatened to follow suit any second—his thumb failing to hold steady, and yet the pressure was still there, courtlesly helping you chase that sweet relief. Such a gentleman. 

“Close,” you chanted. “So, so close.” 

“I know,” he answered, choking on a groan. “Me too.” 

And you melted, almost crushing him with your weight. Quivering in a spasm so intense that it had him struggling to keep moving, and yet he was mindful of the risk—used the last fractions of his brain capacity to gently nudge you off his cock and pump it fast and hectic. Cumming in one endlessly thick rope, with a moan so vocal that it reached you even through the layers of foggy, ear-buzzing aftermath. Had you shuddering when you clung off his shoulder, glassy eyes wide with trembling astonishment. You stared at him through the approaching wave of disbelief. 

No signs of regret so far, or maybe it was simply still forming—for now, you silently admired not a snarky bastard, but a pretty, fucked out boy beneath you. 

“Oh, would you look at that.” Viktor chuckled, sheepishly looking down. “I didn’t forget.”

“What?” You mumbled in confusion, following his gaze.

And when it finally caught your attention—sticky and relentlessly staining his pants—you slammed a hand over your mouth, muffling the hysterical laughter. 

“And here I thought I finally fucked your remarkable memory out.”

“Oh, by no means. As, eh… intense as that was, that misery of mine is not going anywhere. However,” he trailed off, his hand skittishly moving towards yours, “sex clearly proved beneficial for our… dynamic.”

You smile, sliding your palm into his warm grasp. 

“Can it ensure us enough civility to win the competition?”

And Viktor scoffs, coyly looking you in the eye. 

“Why should we limit it to just that?” 

[http-tokki]

“god, he’s just so…ugh fuck…you know?” you curse through gritted teeth, hands held before you in a choking motion.

jayce stares at you from across the room, brows furrowed in confused concern. “I-“

“it’s like he does it on purpose. he knows what he’s doing when he walks in all good morning lásko, how did you sleep?” you voice drops a few octaves as you imitate your lab partner. “it’s infuriating, i just want to grab him and shake him but i’m scared he’s gonna break.”

“hey, maybe-“ jayce unsuccessfully tries to pipe up again.

“and i get it, it’s not appropriate but it’s either gonna end with me kissing or choking him out next time because i can’t do it anymore.” your rant ends with a huff as you drop your head to the table on defeat.

“you can kiss or choke me, either way i don’t mind but please, do not be gentle” the accustomed accent floats through the room and you feel the weight of the universe crash down upon you at the realisation viktor had heard everything. “i will not break but i’m touched to know you are concerned.”

you feel a hand brush against your shoulder as he passes, the familiar patter of his footsteps and cane simultaneously calming and quickening your pulse. the heat of his body warms your bare arm as he leans over, lips now at the shell of your ear. “good morning lásko, how did you sleep?”

[spatialwave]

pretty little thing.

➸ ask: “❛ i need you. please. i'll be quick. ❜ with Viktor and a usually bold reader, but who’s right now just so needy for Viktor 👉👈” – ➸ pairing: viktor x fem!reader ➸ word count: 1.2k ➸ tags: mdni! nsfw, fxm, shameless smut, porn w/o much plot, masturbation, oral sex, facials, submissive viktor, bold reader. ➸ notes: i genuinely never felt filthier writing something fjgnsdjfg–don’t LOOK AT ME. 😳 ask came from this prompt! askbox is temporarily open...currently taking a few modern au requests!!

Everything about Viktor drove you fucking crazy.

Those narrow eyes that pierced through you, sending cold shivers through your spine when they flickered up and down your figure. Slender, nimble hands that worked tirelessly to please you, fingers flitting between your legs, pushing inside you and curling against the bundle of nerves that had you crying out. His lips that praised you with words and left heady kisses along your skin and cunt, your thighs clenching on either side of his head as you rode the waves of pleasure coursing through you.

But–you drove him crazier.

A cocky smirk would creep to your lips when you sat idly next to Viktor, both silent as his free hand that wasn’t hastily writing notes over parchment danced along your thigh. Slow, meticulous movements that dipped between your legs, fingers running along the edge of your panties. He was good at silent asks, not much for words or begging, and you were always quick to indulge a man so deserving.

Bold enough to force him back on the bed, riding him until the early morning hours as the warm sun sprawled along your naked bodies and your hips ached and thighs cramped. Until he was a whimpering mess underneath you, strangled groans caught in his throat as he filled you.

You were much better with patience. You preferred waiting for his actions that indicated his desires, absent-minded touches that wouldn’t cease until you were on your knees blowing him. 

Viktor had been preoccupied all week, focusing his energy on the research with Jayce and leaving you to your own devices. The days blended into the next, and tonight, you were a pitiful mess. You hadn't felt this way in a long time. As you sank into the couch, book clutched tightly in your hands, you squeezed your thighs together, and you ached longingly—desperate.

You fixated on the words, but they danced along each page, twisting into an indecipherable mess and leaving your mind as quickly as they came. Pages and pages were left unread as frustration bubbled up in the back of your throat and a loud groan came through. 

Fuck this.

In a swift motion, the book was discarded to the floor and your hand slid between your legs, eyes falling shut as they slipped into the fabric of your underwear with familiarity. Tentative touches, gentle fingers circling your clit that was throbbing. Your other hand slipped into your shirt, fondling your breasts and pinching your nipple, wishing so badly that it was Viktor’s hands making you feel so good.

It was easy to fall into the rhythmic motions, an idyllic smile lifting the corners of your lips as your desires were met. Not in the way you would have preferred, but taken care of nonetheless.

Two fingers slipped inside easily, your cunt eagerly enveloping the digits. Not quite long enough to make the lasting impact Viktor could.

The click of a lock snapped your body upright.

Widened eyes shot to the door that creaked open, and your heart soared. A rare occurrence that Viktor would make it home before you had fallen asleep. Adjusting yourself, you pulled your hands from your body and stood up, the slick between your legs coating your panties and seeping through to the satin fabric of your sleep shorts.

“Hi, baby,” you chirped, voice laced with lust as hands haphazardly fixed your hair that knotted from your position on the couch. You were uncertain why physical presentation mattered when your lover’s face was covered in signs of exhaustion. Dark under eyes, tousled hair, and buttoned shirt untucked.

He looked far too good to remain casual. Fuck, you were feral.

Viktor locked the door behind him, a smile gracing his lips as soft eyes settled upon you and his weight shifted back to his cane, “Still up? I hope you weren’t waiting for me.”

Your eyes flickered to the clock, it was well past midnight.

“No,” you shook your head, wondering if your hot cheeks and heavy breaths hinted at your previous state. Surely, he noticed. “Just… couldn’t sleep,” you lied.

Oh, he noticed.

Interest flickered in his eyes, and a curiosity settled in his chest, but gods, he was tired. He couldn’t even think straight, surprised that he hadn’t fallen asleep at his desk in the lab like he had two nights before.

Viktor stepped forward, cane clicking along the wood, and he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, “I’m sorry, love,” his gentle words heavy on your heart, “I’m exhausted.”

Two impatient hands flew to his vest, fingers toying with the buttons eagerly.

“Viktor,” you whimpered, pulling your head back so you could look into his eyes, pleading.

It was an unusual act to see you standing before him with your knees quaking as you begged. His cock stirred in his slacks, hardening at the mere sight of you acting so pitifully, ready to do whatever you needed to earn his attention. 

“I need you,” you mewled, fingers beginning to undo the buttons of his vest. Shaky fingers expertly removed each one with practiced ease.

“I–shit,” he hissed, cheeks burning a deep red as you began to sink onto your knees once his vest popped open.

“–Please, I’ll be quick.”

Viktor didn’t make any moves to stop you, his free hand lifting to cover the bottom half of his face as you dug past his belt. A moan muffled behind his fingers when his cock sprung free from the layers of clothing that had felt far too restrictive, and he fell back against the closed door. Your eager hands stroked him, milking out the pre-cum that you lapped up greedily on your flattened tongue.

He whimpered, cane discarded to the floor as he worked hard to keep his knees from buckling beneath him. Your only response was to keep going, lips wrapping around his cock as you took him in as far as you could. A repetitive movement as you bobbed your head and swirled your tongue around him, and fuck, you loved his moans.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, eyes fluttering as they rolled back, a hand reaching down to grab at your hair to coax you along him. Pushing himself down your throat, knowing very well you could take it.

You choked on him, the gags and whines from your throat sending heat right into his gut. The coil in his abdomen tightened as you swallowed around him, trying to milk out his cum that you were desperate to taste on your tongue. 

You were deserving of it, weren’t you?

Two hands pressed to his bare thighs, scratching at his pale skin as tears stung your eyes when he hit the back of your throat. You were greeted by a pleasantly hard tug in your hair, yanking your mouth from his cock just as he felt himself hit his release.

Groaning deep in his chest as he grabbed the base of his cock with his other hand, stroking as the splattering of hot cum decorated your face. He had been pent-up for so long that it didn’t seem to end, strings of it clinging to your tongue that you had cheekily stuck out, over your closed eyes and down your chin and jaw.

A pretty little painting.

Viktor was rendered breathless, his hand slowing as his cock twitched, and the remaining cum he pushed out dripped down to the floor between your knees.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, hardly able to make the words come to fruition through his heavy breaths.

Your eyes opened, smiling blissfully up at your lover.

“Let me fuck you, and I’ll forgive you.”

[fushiguro-megloomy]

Strawberry Wine

Pt 2. After the Distance

[part 1] pairing: modern au!viktor x artist!reader Tags: porn with plot, viktor is a tease (ツ), lots of buildup, smut, no use of y/n, afab!reader wc: 3.8k  notes: It’s here :’) i went over this like 25 times and got a friend to read it to make sure it was good enough so don't let it flop yall asjhashg art from pinterest, dividers from chachachannah, cafekitsune & nicodefresas

The next couple of months were… interesting. While you thought you knew Viktor—at least as well as someone could after a few months—you were quickly discovering that beneath his easy charm and quick wit lay a patient, calculated man, with a streak of something far less innocent. Slick, greedy even. And that side of him was making it increasingly difficult to keep things under wraps.

You’d laid it down early on that this thing between you—whatever it was—would stay between the two of you. Not that you thought Jayce would care, necessarily. If anything, your reasons for secrecy stemmed entirely from your own reservations. You were both workaholics, after all. Your galleries were finally gaining more traction, and Viktor had his research and the lab. Not to mention you’d promised yourself long ago that your career would come first. No distractions, no derailments—especially not for a man.

And yet, your resolve was starting to crack.

Again, you were learning Viktor to be a slick man, one with nimble fingers, skilled not just in tinkering with tech but in unraveling you entirely. Fingers that found their way under the table at dinner, brushing lightly over your thigh and leaving you fumbling for words mid-response to one of Jayce’s questions. Fingers that pinched your ass when no one was looking, the sudden assault making you glare at him—only to catch the smug tilt of his mouth.

But it wasn’t all teasing. Those same fingers smoothed your hair back from your face in the aftermath, his cool, calloused thumb tracing over your kiss-swollen lips with a tenderness that left your heart beating recklessly. His touch was addictive, and you were a hopeless addict.

Of course, like any addict, withdrawals were inevitable.

The boys had been called away—a business deal overseas that was only supposed to last a weekend instead turning into a nine day ordeal. You’d kept yourself busy with work, trying to throw yourself into painting and coordinating for another upcoming gallery showing. But your thoughts had a nasty habit of drifting, especially every time Jayce would video call with a trip update. You smiled, nodding along as he happily recounted the details of their successful presentations and the eventual closing of the deal.

It wasn’t Jayce’s enthusiasm that distracted you—it was the figure in the background. Viktor, half out of frame, often hunched over a small workspace or absently flipping through pages of a notebook. His focus, sharp as ever, made your pulse quicken despite yourself.

Once, during one of these calls, Viktor looked up. His eyes flicked toward the camera, meeting yours for just a fraction of a second. It was nothing, really—just a glance. But it felt like a spark, sending heat crawling up your neck and pooling low in your stomach.

You tried to ignore it.

“...And then Viktor had the most insane suggestion about combining thermochemical—oh, speak of the devil!” Jayce’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

Viktor leaned into frame, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “I’m sure it wasn’t that insane,” he said smoothly, his voice making your chest tighten.

“Uh-huh, sure,” Jayce replied, rolling his eyes before glancing back at you. “Anyway, the good news is we’re wrapping up here. We should be flying back the day after tomorrow. You’ll finally get some peace and quiet without me bombarding you with updates!”

“Peace and quiet? Jayce, I’d hardly call your calls a disturbance,” you replied lightly, ignoring the sudden spike of anticipation at his words.

Viktor spoke up again, his voice smoother this time. “I’m sure it’ll be good to get back. Familiar surroundings and all that.” His eyes flicked to you briefly, and something in that gaze made your breath hitch. Jayce was oblivious, grinning and nodding along, but Viktor’s yellow gold eyes lingered just long enough to make your stomach twist.

“Yeah, definitely,” you said, forcing yourself to keep your tone even. “Safe travels when the time comes.”

“Thanks! Anyway, I’ll let you go. We’re calling it an early night over here,” Jayce said, stifling a yawn.

The call ended shortly after, leaving you staring at the blank screen. You sighed, leaning back in your chair, fingernails tapping anxiously against the edge of the desk.

-

The gallery buzzed with energy, the hum of conversation weaving through the air as you moved from piece to piece, guiding potential buyers with practiced ease. Your smile was poised, your tone professional as you answered their questions and described your work, but the sting of your bitten cuticles betrayed the nerves you kept buried under layers of polished charm.

Despite your best efforts, your thoughts occasionally wandered. Viktor and Jayce were due back tonight—late, you’d told yourself more than once. You’d have time to finish the showing, decompress, and slip into something casual. It was fine. You were fine.

Still, your mind conjured flashes of Viktor's teasing smirk, the low timbre of his voice in your ear, and—

“You’ve created such movement here,” a man’s voice broke into your thoughts, gesturing at a vibrant abstract piece nearby. “It feels alive.”

You shifted, regrounding yourself. “Thank you,” you said warmly, stepping closer. “That was the intention—a sense of fluidity and life, as if it’s always in motion.”

His smile was appreciative and you slid into explanation, gesturing with your hands to emphasize the piece’s details as you settled back into your element.

The man nodded thoughtfully, offering a few more comments before excusing himself to examine another painting. You exhaled quietly, straightening your shoulders as you turned your attention back to the gallery space. 

The evening had gone smoothly so far, but then your gaze swept toward the entrance and the world seemed to narrow to a single point.

Viktor.

His posture was composed and confident as ever. The low, warm light caught the angled lines of his face, and his eyes were already fixed on you. Your pulse quickened as he began making his way across the room. He moved with deliberate grace, the tap of his cane almost rhythmic against the polished floor.

You swallowed, willing yourself to remain composed as he closed the distance between you. He looked every bit as devastating as you remembered—perhaps even more so after days of his absence.

When he reached you, he didn’t greet you with words right away. His eyes swept over you, lingering as though taking in every detail.

“You’re not supposed to be here yet,” you said, your voice carefully steady despite the racing of your pulse.

“Plans changed,” he replied smoothly. “We caught an earlier flight.”

“And Jayce?”

“Jetlag,” Viktor said with a shrug. “He went home. I thought I’d make better use of my time.”

His tone was calm, his words innocent enough, but the way his gaze dipped to your lips and then back to your eyes betrayed the true intent behind his presence.

“You didn’t have to come.”

His brow arched, and he tilted his head slightly. “And miss seeing you command a room like this? Never.”

Your cheeks warmed under his scrutiny, but you quickly diverted the conversation, gesturing toward the artwork nearby. “Here for the paintings, then?”

“Here for you,” he corrected, his tone sending a shiver across your skin.

Before you could respond, a passing guest offered a polite nod, drawing your attention away just long enough for Viktor to step closer, wrapping an arm around you in what seemed like a polite, casual embrace. 

To anyone watching, it was nothing out of the ordinary—a perfectly respectful greeting. But as his arm pressed against your back, his fingers slid lower, tracing a line down your spine. The movement was slow, deliberate, and his fingertips dipped just beneath the waistband of your skirt. You held your breath.

“I’ll let you get back to work,” he said, his voice carrying that infuriating mix of control and amusement. 

But before he fully stepped back, his lips brushed near your ear, his breath balmy against your skin. “I missed you,” he murmured. “Malá hvězda…”

Little Star—he’d first called you that in passing, after Jayce had teased you about becoming a celebrity in your field. It had been a lighthearted comment, a playful quip that Viktor had picked up on. But over time, it stuck and became something far more intimate. 

As the evening wore on, you felt the weight of his gaze wherever you moved. Whether you were explaining a piece to a potential buyer or exchanging pleasantries with a collector, you were keenly aware of him in your peripherals. He never lingered too close, always giving you space to work, but his presence was impossible to ignore.

By the time the gallery emptied, you felt wrung out—by the crowd, by the evening, but mostly by him. The cab ride was quiet, the only sound was the hum of the engine and the occasional crackle of the driver’s radio. You sat beside Viktor, close but not touching, though the air between you felt suffocatingly warm. Every bump in the road jostled you, and every brush of his leg against yours set your nerves fraying.

You glanced at him, trying to gauge his mood, but his expression was maddeningly calm, almost unreadable. He leaned back against the seat, one hand resting on the door, the other draped casually over his knee. But his eyes—his eyes betrayed him.

Dark and glinting, they flicked to you, and the corner of his mouth twitched, the barest hint of amusement at your visible tension.

The driver spoke up, asking Viktor something about the best route, and he replied smoothly in that light, accented voice that had been driving you mad all night. You caught his profile in the dim light—sharp lines and soft lips—and you had to look away, your nails digging into the edge of your seat.

“Are you always this restless?” he murmured suddenly, his tone pitched low enough for only you to hear.

You swallowed, the flush creeping up your neck. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His smirk was a flash of teeth, quick and dangerous. He shifted, his leg pressing more deliberately against yours, the subtle movement enough to make your pulse skip.

“I think you do,” he said, his voice almost teasing. He let his hand drop to the seat between you, his knuckles brushing your thigh. It sent a jolt through you.

You shot him a look, your jaw tightening as you leaned slightly closer, your voice a low hiss. “Do you ever get tired of your games?”

His gaze flicked to your lips before dragging slowly back to your eyes. “Not when I’m winning.”

Before you could reply, the cab took a sharp turn, throwing you slightly off balance. His hand caught your leg to steady you, firm and sure. He didn’t let go.

Instead, in the shadows of the backseat, his fingers slid upwards, the warmth of his palm scorching through the fabric of your stockings. You sucked in a breath, barely audible over the noise of the engine, but your heart raced.

His pinky finger grazed the edge of your underwear, teasing the barest edge of lace. The movement was deliberate, slow, and utterly torturous. He kept his eyes forward, his expression calm, as if nothing were happening.

Your pulse thundered in your ears, and you pressed your knees together instinctively, but his hand didn’t budge. His thumb stroked a slow, lazy line against your inner thigh, just shy of the place you needed him most, and it was all you could do not to squirm.

When the cab slowed at a red light, he leaned in, his breath brushing hot against your ear. “Careful, malá hvězda,” he whispered, his voice a dark, velvet tease. “We wouldn’t want the driver to notice, would we?”

Your teeth sank into your bottom lip to stifle the sound that threatened to escape. He finally withdrew his hand, the loss both a relief and an ache.

The cab rolled to a stop in front of your apartment building, and you practically bolted out, desperate for the cool night air to calm your overheated skin. Viktor was right behind you, but you didn’t dare look back at him.

The elevator ride up felt like an eternity. Each passing floor seemed to stretch on longer than the last, the tension between you thickening with every second. Viktor didn’t help. He stood next to you, but the air around him seemed to thrum with barely contained desire. His once teasing touches were growing bolder, and his breath seemed to waver every time he ebbed closer, his body pressing into yours ever so slightly. The subtle shift in his posture was enough to let you know just how much he was also losing control, how much he wanted you.

The elevator doors opened with a soft ding, and your apartment was only a few steps away. You barely made it to the door before he was there, crowding you against the frame. His fingers slipped from your arm to your waist, tugging you closer, pulling you in with an urgency that sent a shiver through your entire body.

The key turned in the lock, and you barely had time to step inside before Viktor followed, the door closing behind him with an almost predatory click. In one swift movement, he had you pressed against the wall, cane clacking to the floor and his lips on yours. There was no hesitation now—no games, no teasing.

His mouth was hot, claiming, and you couldn’t help but respond in tandem, body arching into his. 

“Its been too long," he practically purred against your clavicle, the vibrations of his voice going straight to your core.

"Too long," you agreed, though the words came out hoarse, breaking into a soft whimper as his teeth nipped at your skin.

The sharp edge of his bite was quickly soothed by his tongue, a slow sweep that had your knees threatening to give way. His hands slid under your shirt, fingers skimming over your bare skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He groaned softly, his breath warm against your neck when his hips pressed into yours, a deliberate grind that stole the air from your lungs. Your hands weren't idle, either, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel more of him. 

Your fingertips dragged over the expanse of his chest, and the subtle hitch in his breath sent a rush of satisfaction through you. His lips never left your skin, trailing fiery kisses along the column of your throat as his fingers tugged your shirt up and over your head, discarding it without a second thought.

He took a moment to drink you in, his amber eyes dark with desire, before his hands were on you again, possessive and unyielding. With a sudden shift, his grip tightened around your waist, and before you could react, he spun you around. The cool press of the wall against your chest was sudden as he caged you in.

His fingers traced the curve of your back, then moved to the clasp of your bra, sliding it from your shoulders.

"Viktor," you breathed, your voice shaky with anticipation as his hands roamed over your now-bare skin, pinching your nipples and mapping every inch of you like he couldn't get enough.

Your hips moved instinctively, grinding back into the rigid buldge of his slacks seeking out friction. His low, guttural groan in response sent a fresh wave of heat pooling in your core, surely staining your panties. His touch, ever restless, slid down your sides and found its way to your thighs, the rough glide of his palms pulling your skirt up around your waist.

The cool air of the apartment prickled your skin as he moved and his fingers curled around the delicate fabric of your stockings. A sharp, audible tear filled the room as his impatience got the better of him, the fragile material giving way beneath his touch. The sound was quickly accompanied by a gasp from you, although it was too late to protest as his hand slid over the bare skin of your ass, his touch unapologetic.

“I'll buy you a new pair.”

His tone was sharp, yet quickly drowned out by the metallic clinking of his belt buckle. It was a wonder you'd made it this long, your head practically swimming, knees trembling as his slacks hit the floor. You wanted to see him, craning your neck in a pathetic attempt to catch a glimpse of the body you'd been craving for a week and a half, but he was quicker. 

His grip found the nape of your neck, pushing your cheek back against the drywall while his other hand snaked its way between your legs. A mewl escaped you as those same slender fingers pulled the now sticky lace to the side, wasting no time proding your entrance before pushing two digits inside. Your eyes squeezed shut and you heard him exhale, clearly satisfied with the way your greedy walls practically sucked him in. His fingers flexed, curling a few times in a weak attempt to stretch you out and earning a few muffled whimpers from your shaky form. 

“Please-” it was all you could manage, squirming under his hold, feeble hands reaching blindly for him. 

He was certainly in no place to deny you, especially not as his cock grew angrier by the second, flushed and leaking with precum. When he retracted his fingers it was audible, a squelch that made his mouth water, but there was no time. His hand left your nape, moving to the base of your spine to coax you into a deeper arch and you eagerly obliged while he lined himself up. 

That first languid roll of his hips was pure bliss, the slight burn as his cock stretched you out left you slack-jawed and all the time apart was suddenly forgotten, instantly fucked out of your brain. Viktor was no more immune, a whiney moan tumbling from his mouth as you clenched around him. It was clear neither of you would last very long when the energy quickly became feverish, all semblance of control lost with hips desperately rutting together as pleasure seared its way through every nerve in your body. 

This time when you craned your neck towards him, he relented. His body pushed impossibly closer, chest flush against your back while a possessive hand caught your jaw, reeling you in for an open mouthed kiss. It was messy and unrestrained, his hips never slowing. 

“I missed you-” It fell past your lips into his mouth before you could stop it. 

There was a tiny stutter in his rhythm, almost unnoticeable as his brows pulled together in surprise. It was out of character for you to say such things, raw and unguarded, but tonight felt different— like the time apart had stripped away your defences. 

His grip on your jaw tightened, firm but not cruel, just enough to remind you who was in control. A tiny smirk of satisfaction crept onto his mouth as he pulled back just enough to look you in the eye. “I missed you.”

The sincerity of the moment cut through the heat just for a second before his lips were on yours again. This kiss felt deeper, more deliberate as his free hand skidded down your stomach before landing between your legs. You broke from the kiss with a shaky moan, head falling forward against the wall as he began smooth circles over your neglected clit. His lips trailed the crux of your jaw, down the back of your neck as his movements became rougher. He ignored the pain threatening his leg, breath heavy and uneven as he bit on the curve of your shoulder, his own wanton moans vibrating off your skin.

You could feel your orgasm creeping in, white hot and consuming in the pit of your stomach. The dual sensation of his hips grinding against yours and the quick motions of his wrist between your thighs had your vision blurring at the edges. As if he sensed it, he adjusted his angle, moving deeper and more intentional. His focus was now singular, chasing every reaction you gave him, determined to push you to your limits.

Your body contorted into his, a ragged cry escaping you as the tension coil in you tightened. He grunted lowly against your shoulder, his own voice taking on a wobble as his own orgasm loomed not far behind. 

“Let go for me”

It was all you needed to tip over the edge, toes curling and your body going rigid in his grasp as pleasure rolled over you in unrelenting waves. The sounds spilling from your lips were downright shameless, and you were certain your neighbors would despise you for it.

Viktor wasn't far behind, his rhythm faltering as he chased his release. His hips stuttered against yours, a broken groan tearing from his throat as he came, your body greedily pulling him deeper and milking him for every last bit. His body slumped against yours, both of you trembling, a tangle of shaky limbs held upright only by the support of the wall.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of labored breathing before Viktor straightened up, gently slipping out of you. The absence of his touch left a lingering ache, but as you turned to face him, the sight of his disheveled hair, the sheen of sweat on his skin, and the smirk tugging at his lips had you smiling—soft, dazed, completely spent.

You laughed softly, a breathless sound, leaning against the wall for support. He chuckled in return, winded but fond, before stepping closer to cup your face. His thumb brushed over your cheek, his gaze softening as he drew you into another kiss.

This one was different. Slower. Softer. As always. That was the first time you let him stay the night.

The next morning, you woke to a tangle of sheets and the soreness of a night well-spent. Viktor was still sleeping soundly beside you, his face half-buried in your comforter, dark lashes fanning against his cheek. He looked so peaceful that it made your chest ache. A sharp knock at the door pulled you from your leering. Groaning softly, you slipped out of bed, throwing on a robe and tying it hastily. The moment you swung the door open your heart nearly stopped.

“Morning,” Jayce greeted brightly, a fast-food bag in hand. Before you could say a word, he stepped inside as if he owned the place. “Hope you don’t mind me dropping by. Thought I’d bring you breakfast.”

Your stomach flipped in panic as you quickly moved to block his path, though he was already surveying the room with his usual casual ease.

“Jayce, uh, now’s not really—”

He stopped mid-step, his brow furrowing as his gaze landed on the floor. His lips parted slightly, confusion flickering over his features.

“Is that… Viktor’s cane?”

©lilsworks 2024

Taglist: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @thatlittlered @itsjustbell @sseleniaa @theepitomeofswag @jupiteress @rattini @milwaukeeslush @catedunlapgodu @worldseer

[xetlynn]

arcane imagines- viktor/jayce

caught in the mix

[arcane] [main page]

🔞⚠️CONTENT WARNING⚠️🔞: SMUTTTTTT SMUT

Prompt: Viktor and you think you have an hour until Jayce shows to work on a project… turns out you were wrong.

Contains: oral m!and f! Receiving, double penetrating, riding, overstimulation, crack smut, Idk.

“He said he’ll be here in an hour, he’s caught up with something.” Viktor speaks up from your shared bedroom as you’re taking a bite of an apple, walking in from the kitchen. “An hour, you say.” You wiggle your eyebrows causing him to scoff out a laugh. 

“Such a perv.” He tosses his phone on the bed, standing up to stretch out his torso. “Only for you.” You swallow the food in your mouth. “I’m going to take a shower… if you want to join me.” He winks your way as he walks past you to the bathroom. You take one last bite of the fruit before throwing it in the trash. Eagerly following after your boyfriend. 

You sit on the counter beside the sink as you watch Viktor start the water then begin to undress. Your mouth salivating at the sight you could never grow tired of. “Love, you’re drooling.” He motions to your face and you scrunch your nose with a smile. “I can’t help it, you make me feel such lewd things.” You defend yourself, leaning back against the mirror. “I guess I can’t be too hard on you. I’d be lying if I said you didn’t do the same to me.” His naked form makes its way over to you and you spread your legs so he can stand between them. 

“Really?” You place your arms over his shoulders. “Mhm, let’s get in the shower and I can show you the things I think of.” He pats the outside of your thigh and you squeal excitedly. He reopens the class see-through door, stepping inside. You hurriedly take your clothes off, almost tripping over your own pants. 

He laughs as you are rushing to join him, slamming the door behind you once you’re inside. “You’re so impatient, dove.” He sighs and you shrug your shoulders, pulling him into a kiss as water beats down on the both of you. 

What the two of you failed to realize was that the message Jayce sent was a mistake, he reinstated that he was wrong and he was actually on his way now. A five minute drive away. 

The two of you carelessly making out, hands roaming over one another as if this isn’t the umpteenth time doing this with one another. Your hand palming his painfully hard member, he whimpers into your mouth. His fingers dance down to your core, dipping in and out of you teasingly. 

“I know-” you pull back from him, letting out a small pant. “I know you said you wanted to show me, but I need to suck your dick.” You inform him boldly, slightly catching him off guard. “Need to?” He looks down at you. “Mhm, an urge, an urge I can’t subdue any longer.” You dramatically say, crouching down before planting down on your knees. 

“By all means, take it like it’s yours, hun.” He feels the water dripping down from his hair, staring down at his partner stroking his length. You eye it, admiring what’s yours. “I plan to.” You hum, your tongue flattening around the red, precum dripping tip before slowly inching it into your mouth. 

Viktor lets out a low groan, grabbing a fistful of your hair as your head begins to bob. He leans on his left leg as you swallow his cock down your throat. Your nose touching his pelvis. “F-uck, love.” He stammers. 

You moan from hearing his voice, a hand going up to fondle his balls. Knowing it was something he enjoyed. He gasps, letting out a whine. Your eyes gaze up at him, having to blink repeatedly from the drizzle of the shower hitting off of him and onto you. 

“So pre-pretty like this.” He caresses your face as you slurp and guzzle around his dick. Sounding so messy for him. 

He was loud, something you enjoyed. Something you’ve repeatedly told him to be. Vocal and a whiny mess just for you. To encourage you and let you know you’re making him feel good. 

Only this time it’s heavily against the both of you as your mutual best friend walks into your apartment, unlocking it with the key you had given him a few months back. Your bathroom door wide open and allows Jayce to hear every single noise the two of you are making. 

He didn’t notice it at first, placing his stuff down on the kitchen counter, taking one of your apples from the fruit bowl. As he takes the first bite the noises finally hit his ears. Viktor moaning out your name. “Fucking hell, [Name]. Tongue is ‘s good~” He huffs. Jayce’s eyes widened in shock. 

He drops the apple, going to pick his stuff back up and leave the apartment so he doesn’t have to hear this. Unfortunately he trips over said apple. Dropping his very heavy briefcase that held all the information for your three’s work assignment. “Shit!” He mutters, picking it up. 

He was too late to leave before you were covered in your towel running out with a baseball bat, water dripping on the ground. You go to swing, “Who the hell!?” You automatically drop your stance when seeing your best friend. “Oh, hey Jayce.” You laugh, leaning the bat down. Going over and giving him a hug. Still soaked from the shower. 

“Thought you said you were caught up in something?’ You ask so nonchalantly as if you weren’t just giving the best head ever to your boyfriend in the other room. His face was beat red, even through his dark tan you could tell he was extremely flustered. He can’t even stutter out an answer. “You okay?” You cross your arms. 

“Love, you’re still in your towel.” Viktor comes out of the bathroom wearing only boxers and sweatpants. Using his cane to walk into the scene. You purse out your lips, looking down at yourself then back to Jayce. 

“Never seen a naked woman or something?” You raise a brow and he squeezes his eyes shut, begging that this was a dream or some made up thing in his mind. “Don’t tease him.” Viktor chuckles, looking his best friend up and down. “He heard us.” He simply says, picking up the apple from the ground, throwing it into the trash. “I-I was trying to leave! I didn’t know that’s what-” Jayce panics, trying to explain himself. 

“Eh, we had the door open. Wasn’t your fault.” Viktor shrugs his shoulders acting as if Jayce hearing the two of you wasn’t something incredibly inappropriate. “Even with the door open Vik here would still be sounding through the room.” You tease, standing on your tiptoes and kissing him. 

“Guys, please.” Jayce meeps out with an embarrassed look. You smirk over to him. “What? Us having sex turns you on or something?” You inquire, stepping over to him, your wet feet papping against the hardwood floors. “[Name]!” He steps back, shocked by what you just said. 

“You aren’t denying~” You sing, poking his chest right as you look down and then flicker back up to his face. Doing it a few more times with a smug expression adorning your face. “Your cock’s sure saying so.” You laugh, he covers himself with his briefcase. 

“[Name], leave him be.” Viktor attempts to hide his amused smile, crossing his arms over his naked chest. You pout. “Okay, okay. Sorry, Jayce! Let me go get dressed.” You excuse yourself from the room. Jayce lets out a sigh of relief once you’re gone. You were too bold and confident for your own good. 

“Sorry, you know how she is.” Viktor rubs the back of his neck, Jayce only nods his head. Still covering himself. “You okay, over there?” Viktor asks in a worried tone. “Yeah, oh yeah I’m fine. Just seemed like I was about to be pounced on.” He awkwardly laughs. “Mm, she probably would’ve.” Viktor lets out a small breath. Sitting down at the counter stool. 

Jayce furrows his brows, confused. “She would’ve? Are you two on some weird break?” He questions the guy in front of him. “Hah! No, we’ve been talking about… threesomes. If you’re up for it I’m sure it’d happen in a split second.” Viktor explains, Jayce chokes on his own spit. His best friend was just so casual… about him joining a threesome. 

“This is an awkward topic, Jayce. I’m sorry to bring it up so… broadly.” The accented man apologizes. “No, no, it’s okay. I guess I asked.” Jayce shrugs his shoulders. 

“I’m back!” You sprint over to the boys wearing a simple sweater and shorts. Loungewear for a boring thing you’re about to do. “Ready to get started on this stupid assignment?” You not-so-enthusiastically say, plopping down on the stool beside Viktor. “Sure.” Viktor hums, “let’s get to it!” Jayce accidentally says a little bit too loudly. Causing the two of you to wince. “Sorry, just excited about this project.” He murmurs, opening the case to all the informational papers. 

He passes out the packets he had printed for the both of you. You boredly skim through it. Viktor thoroughly read it. As Jayce wasn’t even looking down at it, his eyes burning into the both of you. 

Repeating what Viktor had said to him just moments before. A threesome? With the both of you? His coworkers he’d grown so close to? His best friends? 

It’s not to say he hadn’t thought about something like that before. Because trust, he most certainly has. 

He bit his bottom lip, and you glance up. Right as you do he changes his posture. “Reading” the packet at a different angle. You knit your eyebrows together, giving him a look before going back to your own packet. Leaning your head on your boyfriend’s shoulder as you do so. 

“This is soo boring!” You dramatically slam the packet down on the counter. Startling the two boys in the room. “I want to get to the fun stuff.” You groan, leaning over your lover’s body, your hand palming his face. Shaking it around. He just boredly lets you do so. 

“Fun stuff?” Jayce asks. “Yeah, the experimental part of the project.” You wink, laughing as his ears grow red. “You’re so fun to mess with!” You shrill, sitting back up on your own seat. “You’re oddly jumpy today too, us having sex really bother you that much?” You cock your head to the side, curious. “N-no, not at all. It’s a human thing!” He shakes his head vigorously. 

“Then why are you acting like we scare you?” You frown, “I’ll knock off the teasing. I promise I didn’t mean to be too much!” You assure him, giving an apologetic smile. “Ugh, no [Name], you’re not too much. I just- I don’t know!” He exclaims, punctuating a little more with gesticulation. 

“We can take a second from the project if you need to collect yourself.” Viktor offers, worried that he had caused a short-circuit to go off in his best friend’s brain by what he told him earlier. “No, no! I’m fine! I promise.” Jayce swears. “Then what’s up, J?” Your eyes were filled with concern. 

“I want to have the threesome.” He spits out now the two of you were left thunderstruck at his words. Your jaw slacks open, slowly turning into a smirk. “For real?” You rasp out, looking back at Viktor who was still a little bewildered. “Yeah- I mean, if it’s still okay? I don’t know. You guys put me in the spot before.” His voice trails off. “But now after the ten minutes of thinking time you’re sure you want to have sex with us?” Viktor queries, teasing him. 

“I mean it’s sex! What really is there to think about?” Jayce juts out his bottom lip for the judgement he just received. “A lot.” Both you and Viktor say in unison. “Our friendship is something to take into account. A threesome isn’t a permanent thing. This is temporary and to still manage a friendship afterwards could be difficult if all three parties aren’t positive that this won’t mess anything up.” Viktor explains, you nod your head in agreement to his words. 

“We’ve talked about this, the two of us know how we feel. How do you feel, Jayce?” You question him. 

“To be honest, I’ve thought about hooking up with you guys before. A drunken thought. Then a sober one. It passes, I’m not going to lie. And honestly I’m perfectly fine with it. Just a hookup. I don’t want a relationship and to be quite frank I couldn’t be in a polygamous thing.” He admits bluntly, the anxiety of it all releases from all three of your shoulders after his assurement. 

“That’s good to hear!” You snicker. “We’re all three on the same page then?” You point to the two at the same time. The both of them nod their heads. “Okay, gonna fuck me right here in this kitchen or are we gonna go to the bedroom? Spice it up and all three fit in the shower?” You joke and Viktor rolls his eyes. “I didn’t really get to shampoo my hair so if you pick the shower I will not complain.” You put your hands up. 

“[Name].” Viktor starts. “Sorry.” You chuckle. “Living room it is!” You stand up, heading to the comfortable space, Viktor watches you flop down on the couch, getting comfortable. “Is she always this… vulgar before you have sex?” Jayce asks, Viktor gets up as well, pressing his lips together. “Yeah, pretty much.” He nods. 

“I didn’t put on panties so do what you will with that information.” You smirk, trying to do a sexy pose as you laid on the sofa. Viktor snorts as Jayce covers his mouth. “You’re such an idiot.” Viktor sits down beside you. “Mm, you love me for it.” You peck his jaw, getting up to your knees. 

“Come sit, Jayce.” You pat the spot beside you. “Wanna kiss you.” You confess, he fidgets with his hands but does as you say. You gently grab onto his collar. “You’re okay with this right?” You triple check with the guy who seems like he’s going to explode from nervousness. “Yes.” He nods, letting out a shaky breath as you lean in. “Good.” 

Your lips land on his, you press onto him and his hand falls to your hip. Indicating that you can touch him more. In your head at least that’s what it indicates.

Viktor observes from the sidelines, licking his lips. Your hand goes behind you and you grab onto your boyfriend. Wanting him to join. He meekly got on his left knee, his right was off of the couch. Disengaged the kiss you boop Jayce’s nose, leaning back into your boyfriend’s chest. “He’s a good kisser. Your turn!” You look at him, almost hanging your head upside down. Viktor’s eyes meet with Jayce. 

“You okay with that?” More consent questions. Jayce was beginning to feel annoyed by it. He wanted whatever you guys were willing to do. Why couldn’t you guys get that!? “Yes.” He aggressively answers. “Woah, little eager there.” You joke with a loud laugh. “Sorry, just please. I want whatever we’re going to do.” He promises. 

“Okay boy kisser, get to it.” You pull him into a chaste kiss yourself before allowing the two to do it as well. Sandwiched in between the two, their heads leaning in and now you get to watch. They meet over your shoulder and you get the gift to grope the both of them as they sloppily make out with one another. Sneaking your hand under Jayce’s shirt, feeling his unflexed muscles. Your cold skin against his makes him groan into your boyfriend’s muzzle. Viktor uses this to prod his tongue in between the boy’s lips. Your arousal was growing with each noise they mustered out. Voices turned you on, what can you say? 

Well, boys whimpering did. You loved a man in distress. 

“Alright, alright, I’m getting jealous.” You pull them apart. “I want you both butt booty naked and kneeling before me.” You take off your shirt, Jayce gives you a look and you give one back. “I said what I said.” You roll your eyes as he goes straight to your bare chest. “Just kidding, I do want you to undress though.” You press your pointer fingers together, pretending to act shy. “Ew, that cringed me out.” You wave your hands out in disgust with yourself. 

The two laugh at you, Jayce doing as told though, throwing his shirt off with ease. Having to stand up to unbuckle his pants. You turn to Viktor who was slipping his sweatpants off but leaving his boxers. 

“Awe, the one’s I gifted you for your birthday!” You coo, your face was littered over the boxers, a little comment bubble pointed toward the crotch that said: “I fuck this dick every noight!” 

“Only ones cleaned.” He mumbles. Partially lying. They were the first ones he spotted when he thought the house was under attack. Not wanting to confront the robber wearing only a towel like you. “Sure.” You kiss him roughly. You get up from your spot and peel your shorts off, not wearing panties like you said. “Man, two dicks. All to myself.” Your tongue drags over your teeth. Jayce does what Viktor did, leaving only his boxers on. 

“Sit down, I need to plan what I’m going to do.” You faintly push the bigger man beside your boyfriend. You stand over them, naked, leaving nothing to the imagination. Jayce’s cock was throbbing against the tight fabric. Chambering him. 

Viktor was just as hard, needing to feel some sort of friction before he goes crazy. 

You then suddenly climb onto Jayce’s lap, kissing him before he can even process what’s happening. His hands on either side of him. You press your heated core against his member, grinding against him like a bitch in heat. Viktor helps out, directing his hands to your ass. “Squeeze it, she likes it.” He encourages, Jayce listens and you moan, pressing down harder on his cock. 

Earning a groan from him as well. Your tongues battle for domination. Surprisingly you lose, Jayce exploring the inside of your mouth as you were humping onto him. Viktor had pulled his boxers down, his dick springing out and slapping against his lower stomach. Dribbling spit onto his tip to use it as lube. 

Jayce’s eye peeks open, seeing it happen. His dick twitches against you. Closing the eye once again, smacking your ass and drawing you closer. You let out a small yelp, not expecting it from him. Jayce was going to retreat to apologize but you don’t let him. Almost to motivate him to do it again. 

Your wetness soaks the clothing over his girthy genitals. 

As you pull back, a string of saliva holds onto both of your lips and you grin at the nasty sight. You then look at your boyfriend. “You feel left out?” You pout, pulling him into a kiss. “Mhm…” He pumps his dick into his fist and you relish the vulnerable look he wears. “Sorry baby.” You muster against his lips. 

“Want to eat me out while I suck his pretty cock, hm?” You ask, still planted onto Jayce’s muscle, meaty lap. “Of course.” He nods his head for you, his eyes dark with lust. He was a munch for you. He loved making you cum over and over again all over his face. 

Now there you were, back arched, choking on Jayce’s girth master of a dick. Viktor behind you, slurping up all your juices that your pussy gifts upon him. Eating you out like a starved man. His swollen thumb teasing your muscled ring right above or normally below your pussy. 

Your hands gripped onto Jayce’s thighs as your head bobbed up and down on him. Attempting to take him all the way down each time. Jayce watched both of you, how you were so focused on his pleasure and Viktor seemed like he was doing it out of his own. Hearing Viktor whine and mewling into your sopping cunt. 

Your nails pressing into Jayce every now and then when you begin to gag on his length. “You’re ‘s good at this, ‘s good!” Jayce praises you, his hand going to your hair, moving it out of the way for you. Your eyes meet with his. You smile, now your attention grasping at his angry leaking tip. Hollowing out your cheeks as you suck it. His mouth gapes, his hips rutting up to where you have to shove him back down. “F-fuck!” He cries out, you were insanely good at this. Your tongue swirled and swiped at the mushroom top. One of your hands now squeezes his base, twisting and turning up and down. 

“H-holy shit! ‘M gonna… slow down!” He yowls, it was intense. Out of nowhere. 

Viktor breathes on your pussy as he stops to watch what technique you were doing to your shared friend. He hums at it. Good one. He goes back to your core, ambushing your clit. 

His lips latched and locked with your folds and your legs were starting to shake. Even he had to hump himself into the edge of the couch. Hearing everything going on in the room. He had to relieve himself somehow. 

You push your ass back on your boyfriend’s face. His nose is deliberately in your hole as his tongue works on your nub. Your free hand spreads your ass cheek allowing a different feeling to erupt in your stomach.

Your mouth paused for a quick second before continuing. “Gonna cum, pretty.” He grunts, struggling to keep his pelvis in place knowing he was just going to get knocked back down on the cushion. You let out a small noise, encouraging him to let go. His breathing was ragged and out of order. His chest heaving up and down. 

Ropes of the velvety white liquid shooting in your mouth, you fully sheath the cock inside, hitting the back of your throat so you’d have no choice but swallow what was given to you. He felt his tip being gulped down as well with the motion of your throat. He puffed out, his muscles getting to relax now. 

“Goood boy…” You grin up at him, letting his soft flaccid dick fall against his skin. His head laid on the arm of the sofa, closing his eyes. It wasn’t for long though as he lifts himself back up to watch Viktor going to town on your pussy. His hands holding onto your thighs. Your face hiding into the cushion as you let out little, “hah’s” and “fuck’s” sneaking his name in there as well. 

Jayce’s dick was already starting to grow hard once again. 

“Vik ‘most there, pleeeaasee.” You sob, clawing at the fabric underneath you. Viktor’s tongue repeatedly licking at your clit, his bottom lip hitting it as well each time he closed his mouth before re-opening, keeping this motion. His nose also causes gratification for you. Your muscles tremble, stomach tightening and recoiling as your first orgasm of the day hits you. “A-amazing, f-fuuuck! ‘Love you ‘s much, vikkie.” You hiccup, toes curling and your thighs accidentally squeezing close as your pussy squirts, sputtering out juices all into Viktor’s mouth. Swallowing it all gone. Even licking you clean afterwards. 

He finally shrinks back, sitting on his left calf with half-lidded eyes and messed up hair. His mouth coaxed with you all over. You lay there for a moment, taking a breather. You gather your energy, sitting up on your knees. “That was- so hot!” You clap your hands happily. Jayce nods his head in agreement. “Your mouth is really intense, [Name].” He holds his dick in his hand like it was a gentle being. 

You snicker, giving yourself a pat on the back at the compliment. “Thank you, I practice everyday.” You then wink over to your boyfriend whose face flushes. “Now, I need to give my baby some attention.” You crawl over to said boyfriend. Pushing him to lay fully on the couch. “Gonna fuck you, soooo good.” You tell him as you straddle his hips.

You grab hold of his leaky cock, it was covered in precum making your hand all sticky. You lowered yourself onto him, your wall fluttering over his inches. “Sooo good!” Your eyes roll into the back of your head. You could never grow tired of his dick. So perfect for your cunt. 

Your hands go to the top of his chest as you fuck yourself on him. Bouncing up and down, one foot planted on the ground as the other is on the couch. Your knee bent near your chest. You had a shorter sofa so it worked beautifully. Your boobs jiggle in front of his face, his lips perfectly latching onto one. 

You hover over his face, watching him suck on your nipple like milk was actually able to come out. You grinned down at him only to ruin his fun by sitting back up, bringing your leg back up on the couch, both knees bent and you held onto them as you widen your stance. Rolling your hips back and forth. 

For a moment you truly forgot Jayce was behind you, watching you fuck yourself on your boyfriend like a slut. “Hah- you’ll get your ch-chance soon, promise~” You look back at him after hearing him grumble something under his breath. 

You keep your position for as long as you possibly could but the straining in your thigh muscles were starting to bother you. You fall to your knees, well adjust yourself. Still keeping Viktor’s dick deep inside you. He pushes himself into a sitting position, you pant against his chest. Holding onto him. “Sorry, one second.” You tell him, perking your ass out a little bit, trying to make yourself more comfortable. 

Jayce was getting impatient now. Having to be a bystander to all the fun the two of you were doing. Without warning he spreads your ass cheeks, you snap back at him. “Huh?” Your eyes were wide. “I need to fuck you.” He admits, no shame though. His dick spurting out precum. Twitching at you as you stared down at it. 

“Okay.” You say, lifting yourself off of Viktor who starts to whine but you shush him. “I have an idea.” You whisper, turning around, sinking back down on your boyfriend's length. You sit down on Viktor, leaning fully back against his chest. “Are you comfortable like this?” You quietly ask him to which he nods, grabbing at your thighs as he understands what you’re doing. 

Your ankles now in the air, and one of your hands traveled down to your pussy, spreading your lips, showcasing everything. “C’mon then.” You smack your own cunt, your fingers brushing against Viktor’s base. He flinches at the touch. Jayce ogles at your already full hole. Wondering how this was going to work. How he was going to fit with Viktor. Instead of taking too long he presses his tip at the top of your hole right on top of his buddy’s dick steadily, painfully slowly pushing himself in. You grit your teeth together, feeling the stretch.  

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck…” You mutter, grabbing onto your boyfriend’s wrists that held your legs up. “Are you okay?” He stops himself mid-way. “Keep going.” You bleat. 

As he’s fully inside you make both of them stay very still. “So full! Holy shit!” You squeal, gawking down at your magical pussy that encased two rather plump cocks. “I’m going to cum if you move at all.” You stare up at Jayce with worried eyes. “Are you sure this is okay?” It was his turn to ask for consent and you nod your head. “I’ll be fine, I just need to adapt.” You huff, leaning your head back for a moment. 

“Okay-” And right at the word Jayce was pumping himself in and out of you. It wasn’t what you were going to say but at this point you weren’t going to stop him as you shrill out, clinging onto Viktor. Viktor’s face hides in your shoulder at the feeling of Jayce’s cock rubbing against his own. “Fuck, so tight.” Jayce grumbles, pistoning in and out of you. 

You let out nonsense babbles, wanting to cry at the sheer pleasure you feel. It was nothing like you’ve ever felt. “Doin so so so good, love.” Viktor tells you, kissing your sweaty skin. Looking over you to watch Jayce’s thrusts. 

Jayce’s mouth wide open as he’s relentless fucking you. 

“How does it feel?” Viktor asks and you shake your head. “I- d-d- Fuck!” You tremble, not able to speak. Your pussy squirts juices onto their dicks, making a mess all over them. 

Jayce only keeps focus on his dick rummaging into you like a meekly little fuck doll. Viktor’s veins add extra fulfillment for him. His brain was mush as all he focused on was getting the three of you to cum. 

“Need you to cum, both of you!” He grunts, pulling you into a kiss before retreating and doing the same to Viktor. Both sloppy and careless. “Almost there!” Viktor whines in response. “Mhm~ m-me… shhhii-” You babbled, not making any sense but they both understood. Jayce’s thumb goes to your clit, the palm of his hand holding onto your lower stomach. Rubbing your nub vigorously, instantly sending you over. Your cunt gushes, outflowing clear fluid drastically. Your pussy pulsating and screaming at the pleasure it’s receiving. You sob, tears streaming down your face as Jayce is still unyielding away from you. 

Sending shock waves through you as your legs shudder and tremble. Viktor crashes next, his thick semen entering you in such a deep manner as it was tucked right against your walls. His tip pushing onto your gummy mushy spot. 

Jayce didn’t stop, his hips ferocious and neverending as he raced to his own high. Overstimulating the both of you. 

His thrusts were finally growing sloppy and slow, his pants were hefty and loud. Full of whines and low grunts all the same time. Finishing inside you, all three of your cum mixing with one another. He easily slips out, your pussy cries at the sudden emptiness, now only having Viktor. 

All your fluids trickled over his cock, pooling onto his pelvis. Jayce was mesmerized. 

The two of you were completely fucked out. Holding onto one another. You lay your legs down slowly but stayed on Viktor. “Jayce… you’re one hell of a- fuck.” You heave out, clutching your chest. “Sorry, I kinda got ahead of myself.” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“Kinda?” Viktor deadpans. 

“I’m sorry!” He pouts. 

“It’s fine, it was so worth it.” You give a lopsided grin, tiredly staring up at the ceiling. 

Jayce helps you off of Viktor, all the juices flowing down your thighs leaving you to feel utterly dirty. “Let’s get you two cleaned up.” He announces, heading to your guy's shower and starting it. You glance back to your boyfriend who was covering his eyes with his forearm. “I can’t walk.” You tell him, your legs shaking as you stand there. He snorts at you, sitting up. Letting your guys’ cum spill onto the couch. It was a good thing you had covers on it. 

You were definitely going to have to deep clean it. Maybe get new covers. 

Jayce comes back, watching the both of you wobble like newborn giraffes. “Maybe I did go a little too hard.” He frowns, picking you up bridal style. “Stay here Vik, I’ll be back.” He promises your boyfriend who was too exhausted to not listen.

[hivemuthur]

Okay okay okay,

Viktor x Reader emotional smut/hurt comfort

Viktor spends all night in his lab and he forgets you guys planned a dinner because you had a fight because he missed dinner for working in his lab just a week prior. So you’re all dressed up waiting for him to walk through the door to go to dinner and he just… never shows. You wait as long as you can until you give up and go to bed, leaving your shoes and outfit you were wearing crumpled on the floor. He comes home and he sees the outfit and he’s like ah… shit.

Then it’s angry fight over not feeling like he cares enough, feeling second to his work, not feeling enough for him etc all the insecurities coming out.

And then smut eventually when he comforts reader

Pls 🧎🏽‍♀️

Hi Anon! I have to say, this scene gave me a lot more trouble than I thought it would, but I hope the fight is believable.

Once more, we have been blessed with my smut fairy's benediction (who has already helped me flesh out the scenes in What was that? that are yet to come) - @rennethen has written a beautiful skeleton for a sex scene in this fic, that we edited together AND she also did a thorough research around position that we used here AND recommends for you to put on Start a Fire by Ryan Star. So everyone say thank you! I love writing with you, thank you so much! ♡ Here we go:

Lover, You Should've Come Over

viktorxfemale!reader explicit! angst/comfort/smut

word count: 3,7K

—

His eyelids felt gritty, like there was painful sand beneath them, while the clock announced another passing hour. Viktor sighed and felt that his frown would not loosen on its own, so he pressed a hand to his forehead in an attempt to iron it out. The relief was brief, fleeting, and another sigh followed.

He glanced at the notes scattered across his desk—unfinished sketches and equations scrawled hastily in chalk, bits of which flaked off the blackboard like flour. Blinking a few times, he turned his gaze to the window. Dawn was approaching. For a moment, he considered collapsing onto the tiny, worn-out couch in the corner of the lab, a relic from late nights and lost time shared with Jayce. It had been set up precisely for moments like this, when the concept of time slipped through their fingers.

But the thought of crawling into a warm bed next to you tugged at him, finally winning the battle against exhaustion.

Slowly, he rose, his joints cracking audibly in protest. The sound echoed around the empty lab, a dry reminder of how long he’d been hunched over the desk. He considered tidying up but quickly abandoned the idea, his fatigue winning over perfectionism. Instead, he stacked the notes into a precarious tower on his desk and shoved a handful of loose papers into his bag haphazardly.

He was used to this feeling— an odd drunkenness of the body that didn’t see a drop of alcohol, fuel running out after more than twenty hours without sleep. His limbs felt stiff, his muscles sluggish and uncooperative, resulting in a wobbly trot and a certain alienation from one’s own hands. Dry throat, dry eyes, sensation of faint nausea lingering somewhere below his larynx, everything easily meltable in a cup of tea and the embrace of a properly soft mattress.

In some strange way, this was his favourite part of the day. The academy was silent, the streets of Piltover almost deserted, save for a few early risers starting their work at dawn. He stopped by the bakery to pick up fresh bread and pastries for breakfast, savouring the slow, solitary stroll home. Soon enough, he would wrap himself around you, breathing in the comforting scent of your hair as he drifted into a few blissful hours of sleep.

Quietly, he slipped his key into the lock and turned it, careful not to make a sound. He hesitated before setting the keys in the bowl by the door, opting instead to hold onto them to avoid clatter.

He stepped further into the apartment, orange morning sun already breaching the curtains, as motes of dust danced around, suspended in the still air. The scent of freshly baked bread mingled with the lingering warmth. He slipped off his shoes, careful not to make noise, and padded towards the bedroom with a soft groan.

It was then he saw them—your clothes and shoes discarded on the floor, right in the hallway. The sight made him pause. The shoes were still upright, as if you’d stepped out of them, resigned. The dress, crumpled, was draped across the chair near the door. Slowly, his tired mind pulled the pieces from the deep well of memory.

Dinner. He’d forgotten. Zatraceně.

His face crunched itself painfully at the thought of what awaited him. Fully deserved, yet, far away from pleasant. He swallowed it down and pushed the bedroom door open with a soft creak.

“Lásko,” he murmured, his voice low and hesitant, guilt clinging to the edges of the pet name. “Are you asleep?”

A long, unhappy sigh came from the bed. “No.” Silence, for a moment. “Now that I know you’re alive—” you croaked quietly, your voice muffled by the pillow. “Where have you been?”

If it hadn’t been clear until then, the sound of your voice betrayed just how much crying you had done in the last few hours. It was raw and hoarse, thick with exhaustion, a sniffle caught at the back of your throat.

“I—” Viktor started, faltering before quickly trying to correct himself. “I forgot. I am so, so sorry.”

Nothing, just a stare, as you lifted yourself up from the pillows and crossed your arms on your chest. Eyebrows pinched together in a fake pity.

“Work. I swear, it completely slipped my mind, and I am so, so sorry,” Viktor pleaded, making a few wobbly steps toward the bed, only to stop at your scoff.

“That’s… good to know. Well, if you ever decide I am worthy of your time, you know where to find me,” you retorted and slumped back into the pillow, stubborn tears already pushing themselves past your eyelids.

“Please don’t be like that, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Few more steps, unsure, as Viktor leaned heavily on his cane. His voice exasperated, as he had absolutely no energy to fight now. He would do anything for forgiveness and a place in bed, his muscles screaming for rest.

“Viktor I frankly don’t care what you’ve meant or didn’t mean to do, it is what it is,” you said sharply, narrowing the space for discussion. “For someone who fights so fiercely to not be forgotten, you sure forget about others easily.”

“Was that necessary?” A hot feeling washed over him, not yet anger, but irritation that glued his feet to the floor and made him adjust his stance. “Do you really want to fight at 4 a.am.?”

“Yes, that is my deepest desire to have a fight with you at dawn. What do you think? Is it my fault that we are having this conversation?” You rose again, facing him from the stronghold of your shared bed, Viktor dangerously close to losing his residence rights.

“No, it’s my fault, as you’ve made it very clear. And I am sorry, and it will never happen again. I don’t know what else I can say, really.” Seeing your deadly glare, he added, “And I don’t forget you. I just forgot about dinner. I’m sorry.” The last apology weaker than the others, as he run out of options.

“I somehow fail to see the difference between forgetting me and forgetting dinner—twice— as the result of both is identical,” you huffed dangerously, kicking the duvet off yourself. Anger surging through you, mixing with disbelief at his complete lack of willingness to own his sins.

“Lásko, please. I am so infinitely tired, please let’s not do this now,” Viktor pleaded again, his voice straining, the undercurrent of upset making your skin crawl. He spread his hands apart, making another step toward the bed to find himself stood at the edge of it. And it was too close.

You swung your legs over the mattress, tears of anger burning your cheeks. “As you wish. Bed’s all yours.” Another spit and you stood up, ready to run away and press yourself into the couch to muffle your sobs, when Viktor’s hand stopped you.

“Please don’t go. Please. This is the last thing I want.” This time his voice more sincere. Sadness in his eyes. A real lingering guilt. But if you were to give in, nothing would change.

“No, Viktor. Should’ve thought about this before you decided to marry yourself to work.”

“And what do you mean by this?” he asked in a confused tone, his hand leaving your arm. 

“I mean… I don’t know what I mean, I’m tired. And what I also mean, maybe you should reconsider if there is truly a space for someone else in your life. Or maybe you need someone more memorable, I really don’t know,” you mumbled, all your insecurities gnawing at you simultaneously. All the times when Viktor forgot about something you had asked for, all the times he was late or didn’t show up at all, all the times when you had to ignore young assistants giggling around him, when you would finally decide to pick him up from work.

“Please, you cannot be serious right now.” Viktor felt his ribs clenching around his heart, a very unpleasant kind of tightness settling in his chest. Or maybe just his heart swelled up in his chest, pumped with anger and disbelief. Either way, it ached. “How dare you throw such an accusation at me.”

“How dare I? Have you, I don’t know, tried to take a walk in my shoes? You can take a stroll, they are in the corridor, ready for the dinner.” This very finite, very spiteful remark made you momentarily proud of yourself, until you saw the shift in Viktor’s eyes.

“I haven’t. I didn’t think I should. Because I trust you, when you say you love me, and I was hoping you trusted me as well, despite the slip ups,” he said quietly, his gaze low. “You knew who I was before we stepped into this, I’ve told you that I am not good at this kind of maintenance.”

“Maintenance?” You were fuming. Absolutely, completely furious. Courtship and basic human decency to not leave someone hanging for hours reduced to such a soulless, technical term. “You cannot wipe your face with the excuse of being broken every time you fuck something up, Viktor.”

And that was it. It was enough. Enough to rip through Viktor’s chest with a cold blade. He took a sharp inhale, but before anything could fall out from his mouth you realised what you had just said. Stumbling over your own words, you retreated quickly, “Viktor, I’m so sorry, I—”

“No. No,” he whispered, his tone icy as he shrugged your hand off his arm. “It is you who doesn’t get the right to wipe your face with something I have bared in front of you in trust.” And you saw his eyes welling up and you felt your own heart swelling in fear. Your hand shot back where it was rejected, again, and Viktor pushed it off, again.

“Please, Viktor, I didn’t mean to say it.”

“Yes, you did. And what is worse—I haven’t ignored you on purpose. I forgot. Which is in its definition an unintentional act. Whereas, you have gone for the kill. Intentionally.” His tone measured, calculated, walls raising up as he turned his face away from you.

You stood there, struck. Looking blankly into space, regretting not taking Viktor up on that ‘let’s not fight now’ option from a few moments ago. After a few very loud, very echoey breaths your resolve finally broke and a long suppressed sob pushed itself out of you with full force. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, falling back into the mattress. “I just… miss you—” An undignified hick escaped you. “I miss you so much Viktor, I really didn’t mean to say it, I’m so sorry…” After that, an incomprehensive wave of words mixed with gasps and cries followed.

Viktor stood there for a minute, chewing at the inside of his cheek, clearly still wounded, he just didn’t know what wounded him more. The fact that his love called him broken in a spiteful retort, or the fact that she was now crying at the crack of dawn, because of him.

Tentatively, he shifted closer to you, a featherlight touch of his hands to your shoulder startling you. You felt the mattress dip next to you and your head being pulled to his chest, which made you fall apart completely.

Viktor hugged you tightly, your tears dampening his jumper, his own throat working very hard to suppress emotion bubbling to the surface. “Please forgive me,” he whispered softly between soothing sounds he was humming to you. “Please, I can’t bear it.”

“I don’t work myself to the bone, lose sleep, lose time, because I want to be far from you. I am doing this for something greater, for a chance to fix what I can. To… to matter. And I… miss you as well,” he said calmly, holding you close to his chest.

“Do you?” you quipped sheepishly, trying to muster whatever composure was left within you. Cradled in Viktor’s arms, you found yourself at a loss of other words. The argument suddenly dissolved into something softer as you began tracing your fingers idly along the beauty marks on his neck.

Viktor nodded a few times too many and placed his hand on your neck. “I will be more mindful,” he said simply. “And you can visit me at work more often and pull me out of there by the ear. How does that sound?”

It was your turn to nod, spreading dampness across your face. You swung your legs over his lap and nuzzled your face into his hair. Viktor shifted slightly, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your cheek.

“Will you let me make it all up to you?” he asked softly, his voice low and reverent. His thumb lingered on your skin, tracing the faintest curve of your cheekbone.

You swallowed, your skin getting warmer under a blush. “Well, what do you have in mind?” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Something you might like,” Viktor replied, leaning closer, his forehead resting against yours. “Let me show you how much I’ve missed you.”

You didn’t respond right away, your breath catching as his fingers grazed your jaw, sliding down to cradle your chin. His touch was featherlight, almost hesitant, but his gaze never wavered, holding you captive.

“Okay,” you breathed, the word escaping before you could stop it.

His lips quivered into the faintest smile—playful, yet soft. He shifted again, his hands trailing down your arms until he caught your hands in his, threading his fingers through yours. He brought them to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, slow and deliberate.

“Děkuji,” he murmured, the gratitude in his voice making your heart ache.

His movements were careful as he guided you to lay down and took a moment to unclip his leg brace. He then scrambled up beside you, your knees touching, each move soft and lazy, giving away how tired his body was after another sleepless night. You let him pull you closer, his arms wrapping securely around you, his touch steady and grounding.

You took a long, audible inhale, as your fingertips traced the lines of his face. The faint circles beneath his eyes, the curve of his jaw, the slight harshness of stubble that rasped under your touch. Viktor closed his eyes briefly, a soft sigh escaping him as if your touch alone was enough to undo him.

“You’re so tired,” you said softly, your thumb brushing over the shadow on his cheek.

“We can take this slow,” he murmured, his lips quivering into a smile. His hand found your waist, his touch firm yet gentle. “I like taking my time with you.”

He dipped his head, his lips grazing the side of your neck. The warmth of his breath sent a shiver down your spine as he whispered, “I am really sorry, lásko. I hope you believe me.”

Your breath hitched as his words bounced off your skin. “I do. And I am sorry too,” you whispered back, trying to will the blush away from your cheeks.

He gave you a tentative kiss, barely a press of his lips to yours. For a moment, lips were just touching, mouths slightly open as you both breathed each other in. He smelled of ink and chalk, a powdery scent lingering in your nose. His hands pressed firmer on your sides as he pulled you closer, your stomachs pressed together. 

One of his legs snaked in between yours and he pressed his knee to your core, warmth already pooling in your lower belly. Your kissing deepened, tongues got involved and you could feel your teeth clacking against each other. Noses pressed together, as your hands travelled under the layers of his clothing to ghost over his stomach and his hips bucked into yours, making you gasp. 

“Tickles,” he chuckled into your mouth, his breath growing heavier and quiet moans escaped him with each kiss. You let your hands wander, finding an easy rhythm as you glided your touch onto his hips and thighs.

Feeling him grow harder beneath you, you palmed his length through the trousers and ground your hand on it. Viktor gasped at the sudden attention to his cock, the fabric adding a delicious friction to the movement.

He reciprocated easily with the knee between your legs. Lazily, he moved it back and forth, testing the pressure to see where it made you squirm. One of his hands traversed the plane of your back downwards to your ass to fondle it gently, his fingers dancing on it, tracing words before allowing himself a leisurely squeeze.

Your kissing grew hungrier and you added some pressure to your hand to finally grip his now fully hard cock through the cloth. Viktor’s body wordlessly asked for more, bucking needily into your touch, his brows pinched together, his panting breaths fanning your face.

He retreated his knee from between yours and before you could whine, his cock and your cunt met in a long, sloppy drag of your bodies against each other. He ground himself against you with a desperate want, as if his brain suddenly remembered what was missing when spent long hours at work.

The material of his pants became unbearably tight against the almost nonexistent layer of your knickers. His hand abandoned your ass in favour of snaking under your soft, frilly nightdress to cup your bare breast, while the other cradled your cheek. He tilted your head to nip at your neck and you whined at the sudden attention to all the sensitive spots on your body—his hand groping your chest, thumb brushing against your nipple, his cock against you, the feeling of his teeth on your neck, followed by soothing kisses, love marks already blooming on your skin.

“You are doing so well, lásko,” he murmured into your neck, the honeyed sound melting something inside you. “You have no idea how you make me feel.” A low whisper followed by the feeling of his hands shifting you onto your stomach, as he pulled himself up to sit. He grabbed a pillow to stabilize his knee and pulled your skirts up to your shoulder blades.

He took a moment to take in the view, tracing your skin with his fingertips, to finally press his face to your ass cheek, his lips leaving a trail of kisses up your spine, his hands gently beckoning your hips up. He guided your left knee to bend, mirroring his own, when he caged himself on top of you, his chest splayed flat against your back. 

His left arm cradled around your chest, palm cupping your cheek as you intertwined your fingers with his. You could feel his length ghosting between your legs, but even the sharp press of your hips against him wasn’t enough. “Viktor, please,” you let out an undignified huff and Viktor chuckled into the nape of your neck, snaking his free hand between your front and the mattress.

He cupped your cunt, material sticky against his fingers and you could feel his mouth blooming into a smug smile as he teased, “Missed me so much, have you?”

His clothed cock poked at the wet membrane of your knickers as his fingers began their precise work on your clit, the friction of the fabric becoming unbearable and you couldn’t help another mewl, “Viktor, please, I can’t—”

You got cut off by your own sob, when Viktor murmured into your ear, “Oh, but I like you so much like this.” He placed an infuriatingly sloppy kiss on your pulse point, your hips bucking against your will. You didn’t know which was worse, the teasing or the absence of his fingers, because the whine that escaped you when he retreated his hand made your breath catch in your throat.

He freed his cock from the confinement of the fly, not bothering with the rest. Then, he slid the gusset of your underwear to the side and dragged his fingers along your seam, coating them with your slick, before inserting one inside. Gently adding another, he hummed appreciatively, your clit mercilessly teased with his thumb.

When you were ready, he wrapped himself back around you, took his cock to wet it at your entrance and sunk into you slowly, drawing a long, breathy moan from your lips. Once fully sheathed, he pulled his hips back to give you a snappy thrust, before finding a rhythm. His free hand wandered back to your clit, his attention unwavering, as he worked you in small, steady circles.

Your breathing grew heavier, and Viktor slid the fingers of his other hand from your cheek into your mouth, teasing your tongue. Completely trapped underneath him, you were at the mercy of his hips and his fingers, as he murmured sweet nothings into your ear.

Sinking deeper and deeper into you he hit a spot that drew a wail from the bottom of your throat, your hips bucked in the tight space between him and the bed, his fingers unwavering between your legs and you could feel yourself tightening, your core tied into a knot close to a release.

His movements grew more sloppy and needy, his mouth close to your ear, murmuring, “You are doing so well, I love you so much,” in a hushed tone between kisses pressed to your temple and the back of your neck. With your walls tightening around him, he came with a loud groan, flexing on top of you, bringing you with him with a couple precise flicks of his fingers. You came as he was spilling inside you, the feeling of damp warmth spreading around your underbelly.

He drew a couple of hot breaths, still splayed on your back, before rolling to the side and dragging you close with your back to his chest. He combed your hair away from your neck and placed a lingering kiss on the spot where it met your shoulders.

You took his hand into yours and brought it to your lips to press a kiss to his knuckles. He chuckled warmly and asked, “Am I forgiven?”

“The judge and the jury agree the atonement was sufficient,” you teased, though your voice was barely there. You shifted around to face him and nuzzled your face into his neck. “I now would like to prove a theory that this would be equally enjoyable if provided upon a shorter hiatus.”

“Oh you know me,” he murmured into your hair. “I would do anything for science.”

[madschiavelique]

𝐀 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐎𝐟 𝐈𝐧𝐤 — 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary : you have always been an excellent student in the Academy, getting the best results and always being first in every class. but it all changes as soon as you see your name in the second place, the first being occupied by a certain Viktor. "Rivals? Yes, rivals, so be it, that is what you will be."

✦．　𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 — 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫

✦．　𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 — 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐫

✦．　𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑 — 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐮𝐩𝐬, 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐝

✦．　𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 — 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬

✦．　𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓 — 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

✦．　𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔 — 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐮𝐩𝐬

✦．　𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕 — 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬

✦．　𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖 — 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬

✦．　𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟗 — 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡

✦．　𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎 — 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐮𝐩𝐬

✦．　𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟏 — 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬

✦．　𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐 — 𝐒𝐢𝐱 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐮𝐩𝐬, 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐝

[the-amorous-triune]

Sneak peak of Chapter 3 to The Science of Persuasion!! We get to see baby Jayce and Viktor this chapter 🥰

These two are so goddamn cute I had such a fun time writing this chapter, it has absolutely nothing to so with the original Persuasion storyline and is soley all me and I'm so proud. I'm totally normal about how I feel about this chapter 🙂

Got a whole other chapter started, my Persuasion copy is starting to look hella queer with all its rainbow pen marks in the pages. Right on track with everything including the mini breakdown. But hey that's why we say fuck the government, us gays are gonna fucking thrive. 💗

[kruegerspillow]

"My love?" Viktor called out to you.

His gaze shifted away from the Hextech gemstone and landed on you, who stood in the corner of the room with your back facing him. Viktor raised a suspicious brow, his head tilting to the side in a poor attempt to peek at what had gotten you so occupied.

"What are you doing?" He asked, curiousity evident in his tone.

Your shoulders shrugged as you leaned down, one of your hands were busy holding something while the other seemed to be holding some kind of... paper.

"Oh nothing." You brushed it off, your voice wavering—as if you were trying to contain your excitement.

"You're clearly doing something."

Viktor sighed, turning his attention back to the project he was working on. His hands carefully lifted the gemstone as he squinted his eyes, trying to get a better look at it. His brows furrowed before a sudden clank echoed through the lab.

"OW!" You yelled, lifting your leg in pain.

Viktor's eyes widened in panic before he placed the stone aside. He stood up, searching for his cane before spotting it on the ground—right in front of you. You sheepishly met his gaze from over your shoulders.

"And what do you think you're doing with my cane?" Viktor murmured, clearly unimpressed by your actions.

"Vik—ow, you should be grateful." You quipped, lowering your leg before taking the cane off of the ground. "Its design is way too plain, so, I decorated it f'you."

You held the cane in your grasp, walking towards him before offering him the now well-decorated cane. His gaze fell onto the cane, hands outstretched to take it from your grip gently. He twisted the cane to get a full look at it.

"Stickers? What..." he paused, taking in all of the stickers that you've stuck onto his walking stick. "Where'd you get all of this from?"

Clearly, he was impressed, you thought to yourself. There were little stickers of him and you, Hextech gemstones, and even his goggles pasted on it. You gazed at him with pride.

"Doesn't matter," you jested. "Whaddya think?"

He briefly paused, a look of appreciation evident in his face before he sat back down. "It's beautiful—no, that's an understatement. It's... quite magnificent. I've never seen anything as impressive as this. Thank you, my love."

kruegerspillow © 2024 ➵ do not feed my work into ai, repost or translate my work to post it around. Reblogs are much appreciated ୨ৎ

[butchvampireheimerdinger]

Arcane characters react to a bump in the night

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 🌙

Characters: Sevika, Vi, Mel, Jayce, Viktor, Caitlyn, Jinx, Isha, Ekko, Heimerdinger, Ambessa, Silco.

Warnings: SFW. Some characters are written as x reader where they’re implied to be sharing a bed/in a relationship. Jinx’s bit has a mentally unwell sort of vibe that could be interpreted as suicidal ideation.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Sevika:

Before you even get the chance to be scared, Sevika stirs and mumbles a bit, groggily sits up, and fully fires away in the direction of the noise blasting that corner of the room to holy hell. Then she collapses back down and promptly resumes snoring.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Vi:

You hear a sort of scratching noise and both of you wake up, but you don’t really gaf. Vi, on the other hand, springs into action and is all “Babe, get behind me, I’ll kick its ass,” etc. She tiptoes off to investigate and you’re all like “Babe its fine it was probably the wind I’m not even scared just come back to bed” and she’s like “NO! I will protect you” and it ends up being like a single emaciated rat in the garbage.

“Wow babe I’m so glad you were here to protect me from such a terrifying apex predator, that could’ve gotten ugly quick.”

“Can it, sleeping beauty.”

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Mel:

This absolute princess is a really light sleeper, so she’s immediately up. But she doesn’t wanna wake you, so she ignores it. Then it happens again and she wakes you up gently and is all like “Darling? Would you check that out for me? The sound has just been persisting and I’m a bit nervous.” So you go and it’s nothing to worry about and she’s apologetic and you’re all “no worries love, better safe than sorry.” And she has you give her back scratches. Cause she’s a sensitive artist type and needs to chill out so she can go back to sleep.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Jayce:

Hears nothing, sleeps through it. He snores loud like a middle aged father in an armchair.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Viktor:

Viktor is probably up anyways, couldn’t sleep. He’s posted up at his desk reading by candlelight or reviewing notes/drafting something sciencey. He studies in silence so he hears it, assesses, and realizes its not a threat. Decides it’s not worth investigating unless it persists and becomes annoying.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Caitlyn:

I would say that Caitlyn sleeps through it because she’s lived a charmed life, but on second thought the Jinx shower kidnapping thing would probably give her a bit of a paranoid edge, especially regarding home invasions. In a sleepy daze, she reaches into the bedside drawer, grabs the glock, and tucks it in bed with her like a teddy bear. Also I think she goes to bed listening to NPR or some niche history podcast.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Jinx:

Her eyes open wide immediately, and the knee-jerk fear response gets her heart pumping. As we know, her stress reactions are a little inconsistent and she seeks out conflict, doesn’t like to let things rest. I think it would somehow excite her and she would sit up in bed, pick at her cuticles or play with a nearby weapon/gadget as she waits for either death or a brawl. Or she might seek out the source for violence purposes depending on what she’s feeling in the moment. Diva is combative. Actually, I take it back I think she would always go out and investigate every little bump in the night — one of the many reasons her sleep cycle is so inconsistent. She’d tear through all her belongings searching for it. There’d be audible crashes and she’d make a huge mess of her room. It’d drive her up the wall if she couldn’t find it. Until something distracted her enough to get her to return to bed.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Isha:

Isha wakes up and immediately thinks monster under the bed? She dangles a shoelace or a sock over the edge of the bed to see if the monster bites, cause she’s a smart kid. Nothing does and she tiptoes over to Jinx’s area (cautious and stepping lightly because you can never be too careful with these under-the-bed-monsters) and wakes her up by tugging gently on her braid. She points furiously to the closet and Jinx makes a big show of investigating every nook and cranny. She’s saying something like “Hereee furry monster. Pssst pssst… Come out come out wherever you are, ugly.” She sets up “monster booby traps” with bits and bobs and trinkets. “No scaly ne’erdowell is getting past the Fang Destroyer 5000, I can tell you that much.”

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Ekko:

Ekko sleeps like the dead. And he wears headphones to bed and listens to metal and noisecore. He didn’t hear a damn thing. There could be a majorette kickline complete with a marching band drum sequence making its way through the tree and trust he would remain slumbered up. Snoozepilled to the max.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Heimerdinger:

He’s def got a white noise machine or he listens to whale sounds to get to bed. Yordles have excellent hearing though so he probably woke up immediately. Idk how this fits with actual lore but I feel like yordles would have prey instincts. Something tells me Heimerdinger burrows deeper in his blanket like he’s having a predator fight or flight response. And he’s like. Trembling involuntarily. However, he is a man of science, so he talks himself through it. “’Tis but a shifting floorboard! Perhaps some rowdy vermin. Nothing to obsess over — the likely scenario is that I am safe in my home, and should go back to sleep. I must get my rest so I can approach the morning with a healthy body and a fresh mind!”

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Ambessa:

Ambessa hears it cause she’s got ears like a hawk (do hawks have ears…?) but she goes back to bed because she’s got people to handle that. And if someone surprise attacks her she can definitely take them in her sleep.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Silco:

“Sevika, investigate that for me.”