#viktor gif pack

[pfpanimes]

⌕ league of legends/arcane - viktor.

like or reblog if you save/use. 🤍

[mx-pastelwriting]

𝙑𝙞𝙠𝙩𝙤𝙧 (𝘼𝙧𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙚) 𝙂𝙞𝙛 𝙋𝙖𝙘𝙠 #1

Viktor in Arcane (2021) Voice Actor Harry Lloyd

♥ mx-pastelwriting does consent to their gifs being used. Do not claim as the maker of these gifs. ALL FREE TO USE (DO NOT CLAIM) REMEMBER TO CREDIT.

[honey-pages]

Learn your Lesson - Viktor x Reader

Description -

After an intense lecture, Viktor invites you to his study where he ensures you learn your lesson.

2.7k words

F/M. 18+. Smut. NSFW. Sex. Teacher/Student. Riding.

@kskajjwiqqj

Viktor was nothing like the other professors that you had met. He was younger, known by his first name, and was quite clearly very attractive. You had been invited along to a skills class with the rest of your department and any interested outliers. Viktor was the reason you attended. You aspired to impress him, to become his student. There were always rumours circulating, however with Viktor, the only thing you had heard was how impenetrably private he was.

His back was to you as he wrote on the board in chalk. It was strange seeing someone in the position he was at such a comparable age to yourself. You did not even want to consider how old professor Heimerdinger was. The way he looked standing there authoritatively in his everyday suit was immaculate. It was taking your attention away from his teaching.

“The principles of Hextech's functions are fundamentally rooted in our understanding of magic's interactions with our reality. The volatile nature of unrefined hex crystals stems from this. Magic in and of itself cannot be quantified with precision, only comparatively by constants. “

He was presenting half to himself as the majority of the room looked out of their depth. He stopped asking call and response questions a while ago as he had no responses. Now he was picking on people.

“So, why is it an impossibility for magic to be married to our understanding of, say, gravity? “

No one makes to answer the question. You wait for a few seconds as he looks quite disheartened. He sweeps over the room. Silence. He locks eyes with you. The questions weren’t essentially that difficult, they were just to register attention. Most of the things he asked were things he had previously mentioned or things that were graspable by taking the things he had taught and applying its logic.

You put forward an answer, “It is impossible to apply something which lacks numerical quantification to a concept as characterised by numbers as gravity. You'd end up with too many unknowns. The best you could manage is to average those constants, which is not precise enough when working with hextech “

“Close! It is certainly a challenge, although not impossible, to determine properties of a gravity field under magical influence, in precisely the manner you have described. However, more fundamentally, the issue lies in the fact that the gravitational constant is a dimensional property defined by distance and mass, while any magical constant lacks such constraints. But very very good thoughts Miss (Y/N).”

He knew your name. As he responded to you, he did a double take, watching you. You caught him scanning your whole person, losing his train of thought for a second. He smirks before catching the thought he had just lost. It was quite noticeable, the effect you had just had over him, and you were almost certain that it wasn’t just because you were the only one answering questions. Maybe the times you had thought he was being personable were something more?

He was finishing up his teaching, but still whenever he referenced something you had put forward or said something particularly related to your thoughts, he looked at you.

“We've discussed today a number of approaches to applying magical principles in our limited understanding of physical laws. The crux of what makes this application an impossibility is as follows: A dimensionless constant cannot define a dimensional property. “

He addresses you, “With all the answers you have given, Miss (Y/N), I perhaps should invite you to speak with me privately afterwards.”

As he calls over to you, you realise the invitation he has just extended to you may not be one of a regular professor. Students are beginning to pack up and filter out of the hall, noise levels rise. Your seat on the first row, closest to Viktor, enables you to be one of the first out of your seat. Your courage feels disembodied and far from you now as you face him without the defence of the group setting.

“I’d like that. When are you free?” You ask, smiling and holding his gaze. It feels more difficult at close distance to deal with his focus, like the sun being beamed through a magnifying glass.

“Come to my study.” He suggests.

He collects his jacket from the back of the chair, folding up papers and books from the lectern and placing them into his bag. He holds back a little longer, waiting for the last of the students to have left the theatre. The room feels much smaller now you are alone together.

“I am serious about your potential, Miss (Y/N). I think with some support you could do great things.”

You flatter, “If I had a teacher such as yourself Viktor, I would already be doing great things.”

“You look beautiful today.”

You fluster, it was unexpected. You stumble.

“Flattery doesn’t work on either of us.”

“I’m serious Viktor, take me on as your student.”

He pauses.

“What was my final point in today’s lecture Miss (Y/N).”

Your mind was blank. Not strictly due to a lack of memory, focus or attention as you can guarantee to certainty that your attention was on Viktor, but due to how completely attracted you are to him. As time passes, his gaze becomes more confident. He knows he has you where he wants you.

“A dimensionless constant cannot define a dimensional property.” He reiterates. “It is no issue that you have forgotten. I have identified exactly where to begin tonight’s lesson.”

You walk with Viktor through the corridors and leading passages to his study. It is an interesting place in an interesting building. It is decorated beautifully, with full bookcases and large empty boards scrawled with workings. It is a small place that looks well used and lived in, as though it were an external reflection of his internal musings.

“Make yourself at home.” He insists.

You place down your belongings in one corner, neatly out of the way of any space Viktor might need. He sits down in a chair in the corner opposite to the one you stand in, and ushers you to sit in the respective seat. Although you are diagonally placed, the smallness of the room almost presses the caps of your knees together. It is cosy and feels like a special place to be invited to.

“I do not usually invite people here, even if they are prospective students.”

You smile, not knowing quite what to reply to show gratitude, humility and not betray the all-consuming attraction you have towards him. Ever since he said you looked beautiful, any hextech knowledge you may have unlocked had been jumbled and rearranged to make some sexual collage.

“I meant it” He states.

“What?”

“You look beautiful today”

You try to play it off cooly how much that compliment meant to you. “I thought we had agreed not to flatter.”

“I wanted to be clear. I didn’t just say it because I wanted to compliment you. I said it because I meant it (Y/N).”

You freeze up again. Your pulse began to be audible through your ears and your blood ran hot.

“You look flustered.” He recognises, sitting forward.

He reaches out a hand to touch your knee. He looks concerned. He doubts the appropriateness of his actions for a second before reassessing. You are both adults, he has no direct power over you, you are both consenting to being here. Then why did this feel so strange. It felt dream like to him. He had fantasised about you for so long, had stalked your progress in your studies. He had seen potential in you from the moment you were accepted through intake, in fact he made the decision.

You sit up too at his touch. In doing so, you shifted in your chair, your legs widened slightly. Due to the change in position, his hand now sits significantly higher up your thigh. A happy accident. Viktor understands why you are so nervous. He is also aware as to the position he now has you in. In his office, in his chair, with his hand on your thigh.

He tries to make you more comfortable, “Let’s take this back to hextech. Ah yes, perfect, what was the last thing I mentioned in today’s lecture?”

You stared absolutely blankly. Every time you had begun to think real words, Viktor had knocked you back ten steps. Now you were at square one again. You tried to recall the words, but they were fuzzy and blurry and so far out of your reach.

“Viktor, I’m sorry, I can’t remember.” You plead.

“Come on, Miss (Y/N), with your answers earlier we both know what you are capable of.”

“My brain feels foggy. I think I am misremembering.”

“An educated guess is the first big step.”

Throughout the conversation, the intensity of eye contact and body language meant that neither of you had realised that Viktor’s hand now held dangerously highly on your upper thigh. He looked down at his hand on you. It had not felt like he had moved it that far up. You realised that you had gradually been spreading your legs further apart. Gravitating towards one another. Everything leading to one eventual outcome. This was all the confirmation that was needed.

“Come here” He asks, smoothly.

You hesitate, blushing.

He pats his lap, sinking back into his chair. “A good student does what they are told.”

You hesitated not only due to feeling intimidated, but that you were not wearing any underwear. To make it more noticeable to him, you were also wearing a skirt. Of all the days to be sitting on Viktor’s lap, today had to be the one. You climb up onto his lap, sitting side saddle, keeping your knees together.

“So rigid. Where was this posture when you were just spreading your legs?”

“It’s not that Viktor, its- “Your voice trails off.

His hands find themselves around your waist and hips, feeling and calculating, building and rendering what you must look like underneath. His touch is comforting, his hands are hot and hungry. You want to give yourself to him, allow yourself to be devoured.

“I’m not wearing underwear.”

Viktor’s hands stop moving momentarily.

“Is there a reason you came to my lecture without them?”

You don’t answer. You shift more comfortably into his lap, directly onto his crotch. He is satisfied without an answer. He decides that if the outcome of your studies today was to catch him, he was very much in your reach. As you shift in your seat, his hips jolt forward, grinding up into you. It is uncontrollable for him.

“Open them for me Miss (Y/N).” He continues

Viktor guides your hips to move you to straddle him, shifting your legs apart. He watches your movements, eyes focused on you. He raises his hand to his mouth, placing in two fingers, coating them with saliva, before pressing them to you. He slides them over your clit and then down to your entrance. You are already slick with wetness, mainly from the anticipation and mental chess he was playing with you.

“So wet for me already.” His voice is silk. “What a prepared student you are.”

You uncontrollably push forward against his fingers, increasing the pressure against yourself. You moan out accidentally.

“Beautiful” He watches, “And if I place them here, then what noise will you make”

He flicks his fingers over your clit, hovering them over your entrance.

“Please.”

“What was the last thing I said in today lecture Miss (Y/N).”

Your chances of remembering were zero even though he had repeated himself. You really had no excuse for not remembering but it was so impossibly difficult now. You rut against the tips, desperate.

“Viktor, I’ve forgotten again.”

“Such a shame, you seemed so attentive. You will learn and progress, you just need encouragement.”

He unbuttons and unzips his trousers, angling upwards to pull them under his hips and down his thighs to his knees. As his underwear comes away, he springs free. He is exactly as you expected. Seeing him explicitly feels like a sin in itself. With both hands on your hips, he shuffles you forwards to be directly positioned above his waist.

“Information recall is important Miss (Y/N).’ He states. “Repeat after me.”

“Yes.”

He spells the words out slowly. “A dimensionless constant cannot define a dimensional property.”

The words are alien to you, meaningless now. You try to remember, there are two long ‘D’ words, two alliterative ‘C’s. The second he says it, it’s gone from your head again.

“Your turn”

“A dimensionless… cannot contain... dimension” You know it is incorrect even as you say it.

He grins, watching you unfold under the pressure. He begins to stroke himself slowly. You may as well be dripping on him. He lifts your shirt and unbuttons your bra.

“I can do it” You insist.

He removes the shirt and bra, exposing you before him.

“Dimensionless constants contain… no, define…”

He is quickening his pace, pleasuring himself with speed to the vision of you in front of him, stumbling over words he has fed you. So desperate to impress him.

“Viktor, please can you say it again.”

“A dimensionless constant cannot define a dimensional property” He moans and signs as he speaks. Punctuating the words as they fall out of his mouth. He aligns you with him as he prepares for your repetition.

You reply quickly while it is fresh in your brain, “A dimensionless constant cannot define a dimensional property”

He slams quickly upwards and inside of you, stretching you around him. You scream out his name. He doesn’t stop moving, furiously thrusting and thrusting and thrusting. He gets deeper as you sink down on him.

“Again, Miss (Y/N)”

“A dimensionless constant cannot define a dimensional property”

There is no slowing Viktor down and you hold onto the chair for balance. He has both hands gripping either thigh and his face is warped in concentration and pleasure. His fingers are gripping firmly and roughly.

“I am going to fill you Miss (Y/N).” He commands, “So deeply that you will feel me inside of you until your next lecture.”

“Please Viktor- “

You are filling the study with swearing and ecstatic cries. It isn’t soundproof, Viktor knows that well enough in hearing conversations outside of his door. He wonders how they will react to him holding you down on his cock as he finishes, the sounds you will make. Whether people will hear his name, will recognise you as the prospective student who seduced him and got fucked consequently.

He has slowed his pace slightly, using his hand to rub your clit. You feel yourself building, unravelling. He feels you internally tense around him, gripping his cock and pulsating around it. You will finish imminently.

“I’m going to- “you pant. “Your fingers will- “

“Do it, (Y/N).” He is near his end too, “For me. Show me how badly you want it. Give me no choice but to undo you.”

He speeds up his fingers, forcing you through a powerful orgasm.

“Viktor- “You scream out.

You are shaking, quivering but he doesn’t stop. He removes his hand and buries it into your hair, tilting your head back, pulling you downwards as he pushes upwards.

“Take it” He demands, “My perfect student. Look at you - a whore.”

With these words, he firmly grabs you and holds you still, as deeply as you can manage. He feels himself twitch and spasm, coating your insides with his thick load. He begins to thrust a few more times to feel the wet slapping noise that he has reduced you to. He is at a loss of breath, a loss of words.

You collapse onto his chest, folding into his arms. It feels good being held there as your heart rates begin to settle themselves. There is something pure and honest about the way you both interlock after such an extreme session. He smooths your hair back, kissing you across the face, planting thoughtful kisses on your forehead. He sinks deeply into the chair, as you sink deeply into him. Together you fall into a tired, lazy nap.

Tag List - @gubkkki, @veru-boom

[spxllcxstxr]

While You Were Sleeping • J&V

(Gif not mine)

Request: recently discovering your arcane works has seriously made my week, your writing is amazing! if you're still taking reqs, can I pls request a jayvik x they/them reader fic? while viktor and jayce are sleeping soundly at night for once, reader surprises them by coming home unexpectedly. they're also a scientist but travels a lot for work, which leads them to be deeply missed by the two. reader gently nuzzles and kisses them until they realize that they're back! just a very sleepy and loving reunion with these three. I need some healing after the jayvik finale in S2 ;_; thank youu :) — anon

Summary: Coming back late at night from your trip, you didn’t expect to find Jayce and Viktor asleep in your shared bed

Warnings: gn!reader, implied scientist reader, it's just fluff guys lol, no dialogue until the last like third lmao

Word Count: 1.5k

A.N: title is a laufey song 🥴, I hope you enjoy!!!

•

You sigh, heaving your heavy travel bags behind you as you climb up the stairs in front of you. Muttering to yourself, you curse at the amount of things you packed for your trip outside of Piltover. You hadn't gone too far for your research this time, and yet past you decided to pack your entire wardrobe and then some.

The keys to the apartment you shared with your lovers dangle precariously from your pants pocket. At first you thought about heading straight to the lab, considering that was where you would no doubt find Jayce and Viktor, but after days of travel, all you wanted was to be home. The two of them would eventually get home anyway, whether it be just passed midnight or just after dawn, so you determined that there was no harm in settling back in your apartment first.

The lights are off when you enter your apartment, the tick-tocking of the old grandfather clock the only sound echoing in the room as the pendulum swings back and forth. Papers filled with equations and scientific illustrations are strewn across every surface. You huff, rolling your eyes. Your apartment looked exactly as you left it weeks ago. Eyes finally adjusting to the familiar darkness, you also spot a few empty coffee mugs scattered all over and jackets draped across every chair. This was certainly home.

With your bags still in your hands, you continue through your decently sized apartment. You had this place memorized at this point, so walking through it in the dark was simple. You knew exactly where the couch Jayce picked out before even moving in was and where Viktor's oddly shaped bookcase was. The comforting familiarity of your home makes warmth spread through your chest; this was something you, Jayce, and Viktor created together from scratch--it meant more to you than any other place in Runeterra, even the ones vital to your research.

You head straight to your bedroom, the desire to fall into your own bed and drift off to sleep overwhelming at this point.

The room is dark when you enter except for the few white rays of moonlight filtering in through the window. Viktor's cane rests against the nightstand on his side of the bed, metal gleaming in the light.

You furrow your brows in confusion, Viktor being home shocking to you. The lab was practically a second home to Jayce and Viktor. Before dating them, they would spend almost every hour of every day there, tinkering with their inventions. Since starting the relationship, Jayce and Viktor tried really hard to break their habit of spending so much time in their lab, which they were largely successful at. With you away for weeks, however, you knew that they tended to take advantage of it and revert back into their previous mindset.

With the cat away, the mice will play, after all, as they say.

Still at the threshold with you bags at your sides, your eyes land on your two lovers laying in bed.

Viktor is curled up beside Jayce, who softly snores against your partner's hairline. You stop at the end of the bed, the tension in your shoulders easing up at the scene before you. Though two blankets cover them, the tips of Viktor's long fingers peek out from the top, showing that his hand is splayed lightly against Jayce's chest, right over his heart.

In the pale moonlight, your lovers look ethereal. The light drapes them in a silvery hue, the luminosity a stark contrast from the rest of the dark room. Jayce and Viktor, with their skin bathed in radiance, are oblivious to your tender gaze.

Smiling softly you feel your heart melt in your chest. This was what you especially missed on your travels. The beds you always wound up in were empty and cold. No amount of blankets piled atop your figure could mimic the warmth Jayce radiated, nor could any pillow replace the comfort of his chest against your cheek. Viktor wasn’t there to hold your hand in his sleep either. There were no golden or amber eyes brightened by the early sunlight gazing at you when you woke up either. You had grown accustomed to the comforting presence of your lovers over the years that you always forget how lonesome travelling could be.

It was a privilege to be able to travel across Runeterra for your research, you knew that; but the absence of your lovers late at night always made you dreadfully homesick.

Quietly, you move around the room in order to change into something better suited for bed. As you change, bags still abandoned near the door, waiting to be unpacked, your partners continue to sleep.

Changed into more comfortable clothes, you ease into bed, slipping underneath the blankets. Viktor continues to mumble incoherently while Jayce shifts, his snoring easing up like he senses your presence. You drape an arm across his chest, fingertips brushing against Viktor's. With your body pressed close to Jayce's, you place kisses along his jawline, the smell of his aftershave lingering on his skin.

Again, he shifts against you, head turning slowly to face you.

"Wha's goin' on?" Jayce sleepily mumbles, eyes slowly opening. The moonlight must be harsh on his bleary eyes because it takes a moment or two for him to fully grasp his surroundings.

His gaze locks onto your own, eyes widening as a grin slowly appears across his face. That small but noticeable gap between his two front teeth has you mirroring his smile tenfold. His brown hair is messy from moving around in his sleep, loose strands dangle in front of his face as he raises his head from the pillow.

"You're home early!" You can tell that he's just barely containing his excitement--he's hardly whispering and already shifting under Viktor's grasp in order to get closer to you.

Before you’re able to respond, Jayce’s lips are on yours, kissing you like his life depends on it. An arm wraps around your midsection, hand resting against the small of your back, and pushes you impossibly closer to himself. You can feel his heart beat beneath his white shirt.

“Gods, I missed you…” He says after pulling away. His eyes shine as he scans over your face as if he’s forgotten what you looked like in only a few weeks.

“I missed you too, Jay…” A hand rises to gently stroke his cheek, something he leans into.

A disgruntled noise erupts from behind your partner and you both turn to check up on Viktor.

Disrupted from his sleep, Viktor playfully glares at the two of you. To anyone else it would appear as though Viktor was absolutely livid with the rude awakening, but you and Jayce knew him better than anyone else; he was happy you were home safe, happy that he could feel complete once again.

"You two truly are incapable of whispering, hm?" His voice is deeper, accent thick with each syllable.

Viktor just looks tired, his pale skin is accompanied by dark bruises under each eye. It certainly looks as if he's spent every hour at the lab recently.

"Hello to you too, Vik. I missed you very much." You tease, leaning over Jayce to capture Viktor's lips.

"I missed you very much, sweetling..." He huffs, moving closer to Jayce in order to meet your lips half way.

Jayce settles on the bed between you, back pressed against the mattress and opens both of his arms for you and Viktor to cuddle into.

"You'll have to tell us all about your adventures---" Jayce starts, fingertips dancing lazily against your back.

"It wasn't like it was a vacation, Jay, I still had work to do." You cuddle closer to Jayce, the warmth radiating from his body making you yawn tiredly. Viktor, though dressed in a comfortable long sleeved shirt with two blankets on top of him, does the same, hoping to take all his partner's body heat for himself.

"Sure, but you were not stuck in the Academy's dungeon staring at the hex gem for hours upon hours upon hours..." Viktor sleepily trails off, his face already buried in the crook of Jayce's neck.

You pull the blankets up to your neck and place a hand on top of Viktor's, which rests on Jayce's chest. His fingertips are cold as ice, as they usually were. You feel your eyelids start to droop, each blink getting longer.

"Why don't we go to sleep, darling? You can tell us all about it in the morning. Maybe me and Vik could spend the day outside of the lab and get some fresh air." Jayce whispers, sensing your exhaustion.

You hum as he kisses the top of your head. He murmurs something along the lines of "goodnight" and "I love you," but it all becomes a blur as you drift off to sleep; finally in your own bed in your own home surrounded by your partners.

•

[silassinclair]

Yandere Boxer x Reader 2

Masterlist Here!! // Previous Part Here!

CW // Nonconsentual touching

A couple days have passed since Vladimir has been on life support. And today he finally woke up.

“Doc…?”

You turn your head inhumanly fast when you hear the quiet mutter of the fighter. Rushing over to the bed you get some water and some medicine.

“You’re finally awake Vladimir. Everyone was worried about you.” You say and lean his bed up so he can drink some water.

Vladimir’s expression remains solemn. He’s thinking hard about something and it worries you. Vladimir has always been your least favorite guy here at the gym. He’d sexually harass you and catcall you everyday but he’s still your patient.

“Do you remember what happened? Who did this to you?” You ask him carefully.

The man’s knuckles whiten as his fist clenches and he utters gutturally, “I can’t remember.”

You nod in understanding. “That’s alright. What matters is your recovery.”

For the rest of the day you stay by Vladimir’s side until he was ready to walk on his own. He’s a tough guy so he was able to get up and leave all by himself. It’s late at night now though so it’s time for you to wrap it up. You pack your belongings in your backpack but pause when you hear your clinic door open. Facing the door you see Viktor, your ex childhood best friend.

“Clinic is closed for the day. Everyone left already so why are you still here?” You ask him.

Viktor just stands there quietly. He looks around the room and shoves his hands in his hoodie pocket.

“Just wanted to check on you.” He says in his deep timbre.

You look at him skeptically. “Do you need something?”

He faces you with a small crooked frown. “No…”

Viktor has always been the quiet type. Even when he was a little boy. Some habits never change you supposed.

“Viktor I know you’re here for a reason. You can tell me.” You say and offer him a rare smile.

The tall man gives a guttural hum before saying, “It’s unsafe for you to go home at this hour alone.”

Ah, so that’s what this is about. He’s worried about you. But why now? Here he is wanting to keep you safe yet he brushed you aside in high school like you were a leech. What changed his tune?

“Viktor I’m perfectly capable of going home myself.”

He grunts disapprovingly and takes large steps closer to you making you freeze. His body is so close to yours now. Only mere inches separating the two of you. To look him in the eye you have to crane your neck up just because of his sheer height.

Ever so slowly he puts a large, roughened hand on your shoulder. His expression is sincere as he says, “Kroshechnyy (Tiny) please. I can’t explain why I did what I did in high school right now. The story is far too long and complicated. And I do apologize for leaving you all alone and casting you away. I don’t ask for forgiveness, all I ask for is for you to let me make up for not being there for you.”

You take in his words wholeheartedly and nod in understanding. Viktor is mature, everything he does is with reason and comes with explanation. And there is no hatred in your heart towards him. You could never hate Viktor even if you tried. So you nod.

“Okay. I expect an explanation one day because I’m worried about you. It… really scared me when you suddenly cut all contact. I don’t forgive you but I won’t let our past affect our jobs. So let’s just take things slow and build our way to becoming friends again?”

Your answer made the stoic man’s heart soar above the atmosphere. All he can think of is that he has a chance again. He couldn’t help but pull you into an embrace. An embrace he’s been thinking of for years. Viktor’s missed your touch, how your body melted against his as you cried into his chest when you ran away from home. Or how you’d cuddle against him while watching an R rated movie when you two weren’t supposed to. He’s missed you so so badly.

You on the other hand felt like you just got swallowed whole by a whale. Sometimes you forget how puberty hit Viktor like a freight train. Unlike when you two were kids his hugs now felt like you were being eaten. Your arms can barely wrap around his torso for goodness sakes! But this is getting really awkward for you so you pat his back with your hand.

“Uhm can you let go of me now? We’re not quite friends yet Viktor. I'm still pretty mad at you.”

The giant lets go of your smaller frame with the face of an injured puppy. Never would you have thought that an ass kicking brutality machine like Viktor would pout.

“I’m sorry. I just missed you a lot.” He mutters with his head down in shame.

"I understand that but you have to understand how I feel too Viktor. You really hurt me back then. So let's just keep our hands to ourselves yeah?"

He nods reluctantly and follows you out of the clinic and into the main gym. All the lights are off, only the ominous glow of moonlight through the windows provides light. Once you two arrive outside you both make your way down the sidewalk together. You didn't have a car or bike so you walked everywhere. It's unsafe but you can't afford safety.

"It's supposed to snow today."

"Huh?"

You look up at Viktor in question. "What did you say again?"

But at that very moment you felt the icy touch of a snowflake land on your nose. And seconds later millions of more flakes fell from the black night sky. Each flake was fat and heavy; not just little flurries of ice. No, this was real snow. And it was damn cold too.

"Oh no I should have taken the bus. Fuck." You curse to yourself. "I'm sorry for dragging you with me Viktor. Go head home now, I can get home myself."

"Don't say sorry. I asked to come with you. My fault." Viktor utters. But you don't hear him well. Instead you utter a quick goodbye and tell him to get home safe. You continue on your way home by yourself leaving Viktor behind. The snow rises on the sidewalk millimeters by the second making your walk more slippery and annoying.

When you arrive at the front door of your cheap apartment a wave of warmth washes over you. Maybe the cold has made you go numb and this is an illusion of warmth. Unlocking the door and going inside you stomp your shoes on the doormat to get the pesky snowflakes off. So does Viktor.

Viktor...

"VIKTOR?!" You shout and look up at him. Low and behold there's the 6'3 boxer right at your closed door. How could you miss him? He's fucking huge!

"There's no need to yell. We are indoors." He mutters and looks around at your messy apartment from where he stands like a statue.

Opening the door with a swing you put your hands on Viktor's chest and try to push him out. "Get out of my house! How did you even get here?!"

He looks at you plainly while you try to push his unmoving form out the door. "I said I would walk you home. Also this is an apartment, not a house."

The door shuts with a loud slam from the sheer force of your swing. "Quit messing with me! You can't be here Viktor! This is my hou- apartment!"

He just looks down at you and nods.

"Viktor! Ugh oh my god you're so freaking dense! I'm a woman." You gesture to your chest.

"I'm aware." He replies, eyes locked on your chest.

"N-NO! Stop looking at my chest!" He doesn't even flinch when you shove your palm in his eyes to make him look away.

"You wanted me to look at it."

"NO I-!" Your arms slap down to your sides. "Ugh... The point is that you can't just be in a woman's apartment. Especially without her permission! You're a man, I'm a woman. It's inappropriate."

Viktor quirks an eyebrow. "What are you implying?" His dark downcast eyes gaze into your own. A mixture of complex emotion stir within yours while there's only one in his.

Pure, Unadulterated, Affection

"Kroshechnyy." He hums gently and twirls a lock of your h/c hair in his finger. He's close, too close for friends let alone work acquittances. You can smell the shower gel and the dupe designer perfume on him. It's intoxicating.

But this is Viktor… the same man who one day cut you off and treated you like a stranger. You snap out of your daze and slap his hand away. "Stop that. We're not going there. You can stay here until the snow storm clears. But the moment the last flake falls I want you out."

He smirks and nods with a hum. "Thank you." Viktor hangs his jacket on your coat rack and steps further into your messy apartment. Not wanting him to trip in the dark you flick the light switch on.

Your living room is small. Small couch, small T.V, small dining table in the corner. There’s a tower of unwashed dishes in the sink and a bunch of medical textbooks on the table.

“I didn’t know I’d have a guest over so I didn’t tidy up.” You say as you scurry around the living space to clear some of the clutter.

“Hmm.” Viktor hums. Instead of standing like his usual still self he decides to help you clean, much to your dismissal.

“Hey you don’t have to do that! I got it.”

“Hm.”

He’s got it.

“No no don’t bother trying to clean that off, it’s been stained like that for months.”

“Hm.”

The stain is gone.

It goes back and forth like this for half an hour until your living room is all tidied up. This would have taken you over an hour without Viktor’s help. And you feel bad for having him help but you can’t help but feel grateful.

You two are seated at the table. As a subtle thanks to him you give him some left over beef stew which he devours under minutes.

“Thank you for helping me clean up… I appreciate it.” You thank him shyly.

Viktor looks up at you from his empty bowl. “No problem. Think of it as a favor between friends.”

The soft smile that grows on your face can’t be helped. His words were just so sweet. Viktor really was trying to make up for the past. And you understand he can’t tell you why he suddenly shut you out but you do know that the reason was likely for your own good. He did mention he got involved with bad people���

But there’s other issues at hand now. Like sleeping arrangements. The couch is tiny. No way could Viktor sleep on it. You however can kinda fit on it. Well, a quarter of your legs will be hanging off but it’s either that or sharing a bed with Viktor. And you’d rather not.

“So sleeping arrangements. I’ll take the couch since you won’t fit and you can take my bed.” You say and put away his bowl.

Viktor follows you into the kitchen as you wash the dish. “No. This is your home. You will sleep on your bed.”

“But what about you?” You say slightly worried. If he sleeps on the couch he’ll get some serious muscle pains. And that isn’t good for him considering he’s a boxer.

“Simple. We share bed.” He smiles with a small dopey grin.

“Absolutely not.”

“You’re hogging the blankets.”

“Бо” (no)

“Yes you are.”

“Бо”

“You 6 foot bump on a log; I swear to god I’ll kick you off this bed and you’ll sleep on the floor.”

“I’d like to see you try kroshechnyy. Also, I am 6 foot 3 inches. Get it correct.”

You groan and turn the other way. It was like you two were kids again, bickering and fighting over who got most of the blanket.

After a large yawn you mumble, “Whatever. I’m exhausted so goodnight…”

Viktor says nothing in return. After a little under half an hour though you begin to snore softly after succumbing to your slumber. Viktor on the other hand has been wide awake the whole time. Flat on his back he stared at the ceiling waiting for you to fall asleep.

And now you were.

He leans up slowly as to not rustle the covers too much. Your eyes are shut and your lips are slightly parted, a tell tale sign of deep sleep. Slowly and carefully Viktor gets out of the bed. He walks around to your side where you lay asleep and vulnerable. Dark thoughts come to mind. He could do anything he wanted to you. You’re so small and weak compared to him. There’s no stopping him if he just picks you up and takes you home with him.

Scarred fingers gently brush against the plush of your cheeks. They’re so soft and warm.

“Cute.” He thinks to himself with a smile. Everything about you was adorable. Your protective nature of people because you’re a doctor, your height, your smile, and your personality.

Viktor’s so proud of you. He’s proud that you were able to make it out of the trenches of their east European town unscathed. Unlike him; he had to go through hell and back just to make enough money for food. He was never book smart like you. He was street smart, but street smarts didn’t put food on your plate.

His hands wander to your bare collarbone. Why would you wear such a revealing night shirt in the same bed as him? You were the one going on about how he was a man and you were a woman after all. But here you are seducing him with that low rise silk night top.

“My beautiful girl.” He whispers lowly while tracing over your skin with the tip of his finger.

“What do I have to do to make you mine?… I’ll do anything.”

“And I mean it.”

[abysstrap-ran]

❖ Piltover Winters (Jayce/Viktor Headcanons)

A/N: I realize I always come back to writing around xmas. Erm, anyway. Have you guys seen Savior Viktor??? Delicious. *I don’t actually know if it snows in PnZ but it’s December so let’s live a little.

❖ Viktor

If you're cold, chances are he's freezing too because of how cold he usually runs.

Will forget his scarf. Sometimes, in his work-induced haze, he also forgets that he's not dressed for the weather and walks out of the lab only to get blasted in the face by the sheer COLD, grumbling and sniffling as he retreats back inside. Hence, he appreciates the heater and the fireplace in his academy-funded apartment very much.

While he might not be the biggest fan of the winter chill, he’s amazed by snow since it never reaches the part of the Undercity where he grew up.

Give Viktor a cup of hot chocolate, and his eyes will light up. He won’t admit it, and very few know about it, but much like his love for sweetmilk, he is very much a fan of hot chocolate. However, he doesn’t opt for it too often because its sweetness will irritate his throat, so he takes it every once in a while. He’ll be in a good mood the whole day if he does get a cup, something that Jayce capitalizes on if only to see him smile.

This man can not get up in the mornings, preferring to burrow deeper into the blankets or closer to a heat source where it's warm and toasty. You’ll have to drag him out or coax him out with a cup of hot beverage.

His body does him no favors in this department. The ever-bearing cold makes his joints ache worse, so it’s safe to say that his leg does not like him very much.

Once he gets the back brace, the screws permanently etched onto his spine will hurt, especially in the deep of winter. He’s gotten used to it to a degree, but sometimes it renders him somewhat immobile. It is also hard to navigate through snow with a crutch. This is why you’ll almost never find him outside during the winter months, though that hasn’t changed much from the past. Even if he has to go outside for some godforsaken reason, he’ll make them short and snappy trips at best, or send Jayce, who would be more than happy to do so, in his place.

❖ Jayce

Snow is not his forte, considering how he nearly died in a blizzard as a child. But, it has grown on him slowly over time. Though, you won’t find him outside when the snowfall turns heavy.

He may not show it, but he loves the seasonal festivities. He fondly remembers hitting the attractions and festivals with Caitlyn back when they were both younger, and would sometimes do the same again, if only for the nostalgic factor.

The man of progress might be busy, but Jayce the present-giver works doubly hard. You may barely see him out of his lab, but he’ll make the time, sometimes out of thin air, to get everyone presents.

Coat? What is a coat? This guy’s a furnace, he’s fine (not really) but he will claim he’s fine if you ask. Will happily let anyone he's close to cling to him for his warmth, or laugh and give them his scarf so now they're like a two-scarf coat rack. Paints a rather funny picture to be bundled up in an abundance of scarves.

Probably has to participate in a lot of winter social events due to the council. Dutiful as he is, Jayce will attend those societal gatherings, but you bet he'd whine the next person's ear off by the time he's dragged to his mandatory 3rd dinner/gala or something similar along those lines. Sometimes, if he gets bored, he sneaks back to the lab when no one's noticing… until Heimerdinger pops up when he least expects it. “There's a time and place for innovation, my boy! But tonight's a night for the outdoors, don't you think?”

Will oftentimes be the first one up in the mornings because he knows he has a packed schedule and he'd better get up or else. When he doesn't get up due to it being a lazier day, he'll hog ALL the blankets, curling into a ball and going back for another snooze, much to your chagrin.

[kirbmey]

— teacher!jayce headcanons ( • ̀ω•́ )✧

synopsis: where jayce becomes a teacher after the arcane exploded and you play around with his head <3

tw: not canon, jayce (and viktor obviously) live after the arcane explosion, he’s 32 and reader is 20, inspired by lana del rey idk if that makes sense, suggestive, power abuse if you squint, trauma mentions, etc.

teacher!jayce who you met in your first class of rune knowledge, finding his broad shoulders and tall frame attractive since minute one.

teacher!jayce who never bothered to cut his hair or even shave after the incident, too busy studying ways to understand what happened that day.

teacher!jayce who happens to be very messy when it comes to anything. his desk is covered in exams and projects ready to correct, coffee stains on the table.

teacher!jayce who gives you back your hextech project with one of said stains, giving you an apologetic look, almost resembling a stray puppy.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“that’s okay, professor, don’t you worry.” you reassured the man with a manicured hand covering his shoulder, giving him a little squeeze that he ended up noticing.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“you did an excellent job with this one, i’m proud of you.” he answered with a tender voice, smiling wide enough to see the gap between his teeth.

teacher!jayce who you’ve heard never been the same ever since the incident. he used to be always excited, bright as the sun itself, lighting up every room he stepped in. the man of progress, the golden boy.

teacher!jayce who’s a lot more mature now, more muted but still a warm presence. people attach this to some traumas he might’ve developed in the past.

teacher!jayce who’s not oblivious on how you manage to wear the stoic academy uniform in the cutest way possible, having it sewed so the skirt is way shorter and the shirt way tighter.

teacher!jayce who’s just a man, at the end of the day.

teacher!jayce who gives you an special treatment; you’re his favorite, teacher’s pet, and he’s not really good at hiding it.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“but it’s pouring outside! can’t you just make an exception, professor?” a classmate yelled from the back of the room, you rolled your eyes at his tone.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“i am really sorry, but the council made clear that the classrooms must be empty during breaks.” he stated, brushing his long hair back while siting on the edge of his desk. “you may leave now, you should get going to the cafeteria.” he ended with a tender smile as he pointed the big exit.

everyone left the classroom annoyed by the teacher’s orders, and you were no different. while packing your things and making your way to the big wooden doors he stopped you by holding your hand, still sat down.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“I didn’t say anything about you, did I?” he inquires, gaining a small chuckle in response from you. he pulled your hand so you stood closer to him, almost feeling his breath fanning against your forehead.

you locked gazes with him, starring at his honey-like eyes before pulling away. he smirked at your actions, bending around to grab the back of his seat and pulling it close to you.

you took note on how his biceps flexed at the force he made and how his thighs became bigger against the wood, siting down when he looked at you again.

during brake, you would be siting on his chair while munching on your breakfast as he looked at you sipping on his coffee, rubbing momentarily his leg against your arm as you both talked about banal things.

teacher!jayce who doesn’t deny you anything, not a good grade, he doesn’t deny when you ask to do the group project alone or when you request his help after class.

a/n: first arcane writing yay! ( ੭ ･ᴗ･ )੭ I’ve been a victim of the jayvik brainroot since s2, I can’t get them out of my head lawrd.

— masterlist.

[captain039]

On the edge

Alpha Jayce x omega reader

Warnings: AOB, light swearing, feral alpha, intimacy, angst, Spoilers? Fated mates

Jayce returns changed from whatever he was in. Changed and feral with animalistic needs over glowing him

When a medical officer came to your door you were truely not prepared for what you saw. They had timidly ask you to follow them without any other explanation and you were confused and worried afraid one of your family members had been injured but seeing him, in a white room with a simple mattress on the floor and nothing else broke your heart. When Jayce disappeared you didn’t know what to do, his mother heart broken, Viktor gone, Mel gone, half the council dead, Caitlyn turning into head enforcer, and you stuck sitting in a lab with neither Jayce or Viktor by your side. You were by Jayce’s side the whole time Viktor was in that strange case of whatever it was, the hextech fused into this giant healing bath almost. You didn’t know what to do watching the alpha loose part of his small close pack, his best friend and then he disappeared went into the hextech core room and never came back with either of his companions till now.

You stared at the alpha, his jaw so tense you were afraid he’d break teeth. His teeth were bared and he was panting heavily hands fisted by his side. You see his bracelet stone now fused into his skin, you see the wild untamed hair on his head the beard he’d grown, what happened to him?

“We’ve been unable to reach him” the medical officer says beside you and you barely register their words eyes wide mouth slightly part as you stare at Jayce. The once clean golden boy, turned into this.

“We’ve tried everything. We did a mate test on him” you freeze at those words. You half figured it was Mel, but she’s gone too. A mate test was a pricey test you could get if you wish to find your fated, though most people left it down to chance but now it was harder and harder to find one so people gave up while scientists made a new way to find them.

“Mel?” You ask and they shake their making you frown.

“Who?” You ask frowning.

“You my lady” the medical officer says and you frown how the hell were you his mate? You’ve known him your whole life and nothing?

“That’s not possible” you whisper and the officer gives a small sad smile.

“I guess you want me to- go in there?” You ask gesturing to his white room.

“It would be dangerous. he cannot see us through the screen so we will turn it on so he can” the officer waves a hand to the security camera and the alphas body flinches staring at the now two way window. His eyes are the same but different somehow wild, untamed with hunger maybe. You don’t know what to do as he looks to the officer and growls like some wild beast and charges at the glass fists pounding against it making you flinch and step back. He doesn’t notice you too busy with this wild look at the officer.

“Few officers will be around him due to this behaviour I have chosen to stay but he doesn’t like that” the officer comments and you nod.

“Right” you mutter.

Nothing changed for a week, he never looks at you only whoever is beside you having some bad memory and rage towards them. You’re starting to think he doesn’t know who you are and your heart breaks. You’ve slowly come of your suppressors as the officers request, it took a few weeks to adjust but now you feel semi normal as you head back to the facility. You hate the looks you get seeing as natural born omegas are few to none around here in the upper city. You look at Jayce in his room he’s sitting on his bed staring at the ceiling a muscle twitching every now and then his knuckles are bruised and bloodied as always and he looks worse, hollow eyes with big dark eye bags. You hesitate at the door looking to the camera as the door buzzes and unlocks. You head inside seeing Jayce up instantly and snarling. The door seals behind you and you stand very still unsure how to approach or say him in this state. He eyes you and you eye him for what feels like forever before he begins to walk over your whole body tense as his eyes stay on yours intensely before he’s a foot away. You frown at his changed scent missing his old one.

“Jay-“ before you can even finish you’re pressed against the door the wind knocked out of you, your arms pinned above your head and hot breath on your neck. You’re frozen in fear never having had him be this rough or physical before he always gave the best hugs but he wasn’t an overly touchy person. He’s panting harshly and he’s overly warm almost feverish as his hands grip your wrists tightly and his head rests by your neck. He’s too close but not close enough your omega senses already haywire from coming off suppressants. He lifts his head up eyes hard and narrowed as he stares at you before something flicks on them. Recognition? Realisation? You don’t know but his eyes soften his hands loosen and his shoulders drop as tears well in his eyes and he mutters your name. Relief floods you like tidal wave and you almost want to cry too as Jayce lets your wrists go wraps his arms around your waist and presses himself impossibly close. His face is buried in your neck and you wrap your arms around his neck crying silently. He breathes heavily as he cry’s his strong arms tight around your waist like he’s afraid to let go.

“You’re ok” you whisper taking a shaky breath, hand brushing against his neck and through his long hair. He shakes his head and you frown trying to pull back but he doesn’t let go holding you tighter instead.

“Jayce- I can’t breathe” you say and he relaxes his arms but doesn’t let go you take in a breath just running your fingers over the base of his skull and down his neck and back up. He twitches sometimes and it makes you worry but after a while he lets go wiped his eyes and looks at you. You watch though as something glazes in his eyes like a shade and he’s tense and on edge again jaw clenched and he glares and snarls storming away from you. You stare in confusion as the alpha sits down and stares at the ceiling again, the door buzzes and unlocks and you slip out still confused.

“What was that?” You ask the medical officer.

“Something happened to him, made him feral” she says.

“Feral?” You say shocked there’s hardly been any feral alphas in the upper city.

“This is the first time he’s been out of it” she comments tapping on her holotablet.

“How do we get him back?” You ask frowning.

“It’s a hard process, we can try the subtle way or the medical way” she comments.

“Subtle way?” You ask.

“We coax him out by doing daily things, normal things, trying to reteach him I guess you could say, you’d be our main candidate for him to see” she explains.

“And the medical way?” You whisper.

“We operate on him, send electrical currents to rewrite his brain” she says like it’s no big deal and you flinch but nod.

“Subtle way, has his mother been by?” You ask.

“Yes” she says simply and you figure you won’t get much more than that from her as you nod, thank her and leave the facility. You walk to Ms Talis home knock on the door you haven’t spoken to her in a while.

“Oh” she says as she opens the door seeing you saying your name before urging you inside. She makes you tea and you both sit down at the table.

“I saw Jayce today” you say quietly unsure of how to step. A deep sadness etched her features and she nods.

“How is he?” She asks.

“He recognised me” you whisper and she jolts and looks to you.

“I went into the room today, it was brief for five minutes he didn’t say anything though before he went back-“ you hate saying the word feral, such a barbaric term. You watch as Jayces mums eyes fill with tears and you give her hand a comforting squeeze.

“We’ll get your boy back Ms Talis” you whisper to her in promise.

Next Part ->

[that-salty-ghost]

As Above, So Below | Chapter 29: Exceptions| Viktor [Arcane] // Male Reader | Rating: M Throughout

Word Count: ~4.9k Summary: Viktor pushes your buttons until he's busy with other activities Tags: swearing, sexual tension, flirting, kissing, mage-y stuff Last Chpt: First Aid

Check my pinned post for more details/previous chapters/etc.

Some silent moments pass as you finish patching Viktor up—thankfully without further mention of the kind of effect he has on your nervous system.

The wind still howls, the snowstorm still rages on, but the two of you couldn’t be bothered inside these walls.

The air settles easily between you as you trail off into lighter conversations—Viktor’s voice dropping low and gentle as he tells you more about the little things that shape his life.

Like how he loves crossword puzzles, the sound of birds singing in the morning, and skipping stones on the water at dusk. That he likes to have something to sip on when he finds time to cook. That he hates public speaking. That he’s trying to stop picking at the callouses on his palms when he fidgets.

You share your own quirks and stories too—telling him about your ever-growing record collection, how Jeff followed you home from the Freljord, how you can’t dance for shit but know your way around the pole at the brothel.

You tell him that you don’t particularly miss your father, but you do miss his war horse. That you also prefer cooking with a drink in hand, and that you’ve been meaning to finish a puzzle that Viktor said he spotted at R&R’s.

When he politely asks if he can help you with it, you’re not sure how anyone could ever tell this man no when his eyes are beaming with that much excitement.

Which is also why you don’t have the heart to tell him that it’s not finished because deep down, you hated that puzzle down to its microscopic, way-too-identical, 3,000-piece guts.

It hurt your back to bend over it for so long, it was likely missing a minimum of a dozen pieces at this point, hell—even the image of some obscure landscape didn’t even pique your interest.

But Viktor does.

And who were you to rob him of the little things that he found joy in. To rob yourself of more time that you could spend with him.

Of course you agree.

You’re about to cap the salve and pack it up when Viktor’s question shifts the conversation back to everything that’s just transpired.

“Does ehh…anyone else know about you? About what you can do?” His question comes quietly and you’re not sure you’ll ever get use to how tender his voice sounds when he’s curious about something sensitive.

“Remy. And my fence…friend?...” You tinker with that title mentally before shrugging the semantics away. “…but I uh…I don’t think he remembers.” You scoff under your breath at that probability.

“What?” His brow quirks and you realize Viktor doesn’t know anything about Kass. “I’m failing to see how this is a forgettable experience.”

You’re amused that he’s more curious about the man’s memory rather than his questionable occupation, but try to answer all the same. “Kass uh…frequently dips into the pool of mind-altering substances.”

“Ah,” The machinist offers a small smile and a “Yes, I suppose that would do it.” to let that fact lie for now.

You offer a weak grin in return and try to give him a little more context. “He’s the one that said to ditch my backpack for the shoulder suspenders.”

“The one who said you would look like a workaholic?”

“That’s him.”

“Hm.”

He pauses with that information and you try to decipher where his mind went. Rather than pry, you just give him a little more. “He can be a lot. Definitely has some demons hot on his heels, but I think you would like him.”

“If he suggested that you wear those suspenders, I already do.”

Before you light up the room for the third godsdamned time you pull your hand from Viktor’s and let the glow slowly subside from your fingertips. You quickly eye the leather accessory in the corner of the room, still drying out near the fire when Viktor’s voice pulls your attention back to him.

“So, I’m only the third person who knows…that you’re a mage, I mean.”

His reversion back to the original topic at hand is not unwelcome. You nod, the realization finally hitting you that you’ve allowed this crush of three days in on one of the most vulnerable parts about you. A choice your father would’ve punished you for. Something he would’ve said would be the death of you if you didn’t put Viktor down first.

But you sit calmly, confident in your decision being the right one.

“I just…for both of our safety, have to ask you not to tell anyone else…I know that’s not fair—”

“Of course that’s fair.” He interrupts your incoming trail of apologies and you feel that his fingers shifted from his leg to the side of your knee. “And you have my word.” His swift understanding only furthers your conviction and your father’s voice immediately fades from your mind. “Though, I’m curious—with so few people that know—what made you trust me?”

“It was…kind of a gut feeling…?”

“Sharing something that personal is driven by your microbiome?”

“It’s hard to describe.”

“Try me?”

He clearly wants more, still not sure if you’re being completely honest. You try to explain it better.

“I used to think it was my mother looking out for me. I’m not so sure about that. Maybe it's just intuition, but…sometimes I get this…pull. I don’t have a better word but it’s strong. And I know I can trust it…so I know I can trust you too…”

Viktor’s expression softens and he seems to understand despite your poorly worded explanation. You reach for a washrag to dab up any excess salve and it hits why you showed the other man what you could do in the first place.

“This happened when you tripped up that pickpocket didn’t it?” You reach for his arm to assess his wrist one more time, feeling good about your work after checking for any residual inflammation.

Feeling good about having an almost-normal excuse to hold his hand again as well.

Viktor inhales through his mouth which quickly turns into a lopsided grin. He pauses, pressing his lips back together again without saying a word and flicks his gaze from your hands back up.

Feeling his eyes on yours, you stop what you’re doing to glance up at him. In an instant you realize his boyish ‘I’ve been caught’ expression has probably kept him out of trouble in many instances. Endearing was an understatement you think to yourself as your voice wavers.

“You’ve been sore all night?” The space in between your brows pinch together as that thought sinks in.

“That wrist is usually sore by the end of every night.” Viktor shrugs offhandedly like it was nothing for him until you catch him peering at his cane in the corner of your eye. You wondered quietly if that was the cause of said everyday soreness.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I didn’t want to ruin the night.”

“Ruin the night? You didn’t capsize a boat.”

“That didn’t ruin the night.”

“This certainly wouldn’t have either.”

A quiet “Hm.” is all he mumbles as he notices you’ve finished up. There’s a small selfish part of you that wants to pretend like you’re still working so you can keep his hand in yours awhile longer, but you loosen your grip as a signal that it was fine to move.

“How’s that feel? Any better?”

Viktor lifts his hand to stretch out his fingers, eyes widening after he experimentally rolls out his wrist. The disbelief that surfaces in his expression evident as he turns his hand with ease. “It—yes much more than usual…” He eyes the salve then your hand before his gaze finds yours again. “How…is that possi—?” The wily expression that plagues you gives Viktor pause, apprehensively tilting his head, jaw still slack with a brow arched. “…What…?”

“Just thinking about what it would’ve been like if you would’ve told me sooner.” It’s the first time you’ve thrown a little shade at Viktor. You know the man is quick, but you weren’t fully prepared for how he fully throws it right back.

With a toothy grin, he scoffs. Pressing his tongue to cheek and begrudgingly nodding at your comment with an “Ah…” Viktor’s demeanor shifts into something more playful, catching you completely off guard when he abruptly stands without warning. You reflexively scoot back, nearly falling off of the footrest as you do. He only gives you a teasing shrug—you can practically hear the sarcastic “whoops” he wants to say before he makes his way towards the door.

Your brows furrow as you get up to shadow him, a puzzled grin forming more fully with each step. “What are…” A chuckle escapes you as you try to figure out what he’s up to. “Where are you going now?”

“Oh.” He turns his head like he isn’t aware that he has you perfectly confused, motioning to the door with brows raised in feigned innocence. “Just thinking about taking mistress Linda up on that sleepover she so graciously offered.”

“Mistress Lin—is that actually her name?” Amusement seeps into your tone at his empty threat of joining the woman who recently propositioned him.

“Sure.”

“Suuure?” You watch Viktor bite back a laugh as you call him out. “You don’t know her name, but you’re ready to jump into bed with her?” You muse as you take a step closer to him. “You don’t seem the type.”

“I’ve been known to make exceptions.” He reaches for the doorknob, giving you a lighthearted challenge before shrugging nonchalantly. “And I’ve done worse.” The way he delivers the line, you have to believe him. And the pause it gives you is palpable.

You stand speechless for a moment while he cocks a brow at you to test his honesty. But you do no such thing. You’re not sure how far he’s gone with anyone, but you begin to realize that he may have more experience than you might’ve initially anticipated.

And based on the sly smile beginning to weave into lips that you imagine would look much better in between your teeth…you figure your theory is likely correct.

As he slowly starts to tease apart your self-control, you had to admit, Viktor has you wrapped around his little finger when he’s like this.

Crafty and collected and completely merciless with keeping you on your toes.

Toying with you and testing the waters to see if you were willing to go toe-to-toe with him.

And while your elusive confidence usually made it difficult to find the right words when he was around, wit was a game that brought it back to the forefront.

So, you bite.

“You could also do better.”

Secretly, you’re just as taken aback as Viktor looks as soon as the words leave your mouth. But still, you double-down and take a step towards the man whose hand is now slowly slipping off of the door’s handle. He collects himself with a small nod—a touché before starting to level with you.

“So, your intentions were to bed me in a cheap room after all?”

“Bed you?” You repeat back, his choice of words throwing you for a loop before you pick at the details of his accusation. “Viktor, this is far from cheap.”

“You’re not denying it?”

“Denying what?”

His small turn on his heels draws you a little closer, clearly not backing down from this subtle dance as he quips back.

“If you want to play coy you should’ve stayed in the river.”

“Coy…was that a fish pun?”

“You do seem to love those.”

His crooked grin adequately accents his unfortunately true accusation…you do appreciate the occasional tasteful pun.

“Clearly not as much as you seem to love Linda.”

It wasn’t your best counterpoint. You were struggling with your rebuttal after taking another step and catching the familiar scent of smoke from the stove and cardamom from Viktor. The smallest hint of herbal soap from his damp hair and the crisp outside air from the cracked window. Each aroma clashing beautifully against the other—stunning your senses into understanding the proximity closing in.

“We’re just going to talk, her and I.”

Ohhhh, you could kick yourself for that stupid fucking slip up right about now.

You understand exactly what he’s doing with his reclamation of your words. He wants to hear you say it. Wants to hear what you want. Wants to watch you grapple for control of this back-and-forth, of your flawed logic.

Wants to see you squirm when he fully turns to face you, his chest almost bumping against yours as he straightens his back.

You give in, allowing him to entertain the meaning as much as he’d like.

“I think your mouth might be too busy for that.”

Your new favorite color returns in earnest, staining his cheeks more quickly than he can hide it.

Look at that, you’re back in control.

His smug grin quickly dissolves into hushed breaths, lips parted when you subtly steal a glance at them only to find that he’s trying to steal a glance at yours as well.

Your heart betrays its sure rhythm…until the other man decides to join you in playing coy, instantly dragging you back into another rapid-fire exchange.

“Whatever do you mean, [Y/n]?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

“Quite the smart ass.”

“Quite the smart tongue.”

“In more ways than you know.”

“Lucky Linda.”

“Unlucky you.”

“Unlucky…me?”

Your voice breaks quietly before you drop your gaze—taking in the meaning behind bold words and wondering how much weight was behind them until he solidifies it.

“Mmhm.”

Slowly succumbing to the familiar feeling of defeat as Viktor gets the upper hand of your repartee. Your eyes dart aimlessly over him as you try to pull your thoughts together in a desperate attempt to gain it back.

He catches your pause and quirks a brow, looking quite pleased to have you reeling under his words. With a sigh of exaggerated disappointment complete with a quick click of his tongue, he adds fuel to your fire just as easily as the hearth he’s fed.

“And here I thought you had a knack for getting what you wanted.”

Gods you wanted that. Wanted to push him right up against that fucking door. Wanted to close the gap between you, wipe that sly smirk off his face, and make better use of his quick tongue. Wanted to prove that his assumption about you was correct—that you were a person capable of going for what you wanted…or even that you could be for that matter.

For him at least…you wanted to be.

But there you stood. Wrestling with doubt and nerves and ego as you showed the icicles forming on the windowsill what it really means to be frozen in place.

Then it hits you. That small, hushed piece of information that slipped from the other man’s lips not so long ago.

You decide to take one more stab, relying on Viktor’s integrity when he dismissed mistress whoever-the-fuck within your earshot.

“And here I thought you were exactly where you wanted to be tonight.”

Loosening fingers fall the rest of the way from the handle only to be pressed flat against the door behind him. His knuckles carve white into the back of the hand that grips his cane a little bit tighter now. It’s small, subtle—but proof that you’ve rattled his relatively unflappable demeanor.

Something in him changes and at first you struggle to decipher it. His muscles look tense, particularly the ones in his shoulders as he makes an effort to hold his head high even with his back literally and metaphorically against the wall. You can’t tell if he’s surprised that you heard that part of their conversation, or if the meaning behind that sentence actually scared him.

When he pushes his weight off the door it takes every ounce of your being to stay collected. To maintain eye contact with a gaze that was becoming all too easy to drown in. To shake the shiver rolling down your spine when he answers you.

“I am…”

He speaks with confidence but the way honeyed eyes are frantically searching yours says otherwise. Uncertainty becomes apparent as he watches you watching him, his head dipping slowly downward with growing apprehension as he finishes his sentence softer than before.

“…well…almost.”

His breathing gets shaky, stuttering in his chest as it rises and falls. Uncertainty is one thing, but you’re realizing it’s more than that.

“Almost?”

He’s nervous.

“Almost.”

Just like you.

…

But unlike you,

“Where…would you rather be…?”

Nerves don’t get in the way of what he wants.

…

…

…

“…here.”

Viktor’s voice softens and before you can speculate—before he has a chance to change his mind—he leans forward to close the gap separating you.

His lips press against yours with a tenderness that stuns you into place. He’s unhurried. Resolute. Like kissing you was the most natural thing in the world for him.

Like he was in fact, exactly where he wanted to be for the night.

Regardless of his finesse, your body goes rigid as you reflexively grab ahold of his forearm for support.

…Which he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

He returns your stiff grip with a tentative touch—his fingers extending lightly along the underside of your arm—soothing you despite the tight hold you have on him.

It’s such a small, soft motion…but it settles you. Immediately for that matter. That’s when it hits you that Viktor was actually right about what he said earlier.

Time really had no place when he was with you.

In the span of a sharp breath, you don’t know at which point your eyes fluttered shut. Or when you stopped thinking. Let alone when you stopped breathing. When your grip loosened, when your jaw unclenched. When your worries lifted into nothingness.

When the noise settled and everything finally felt…still.

Something you haven’t felt in years…

And just in time for Viktor to pull away.

As you feel him shift his weight back you all but catch yourself from greedily leaning forward. Leaving you looking practically starved, and clearly craving more than a mere sample…as delicious as it was.

Not yet ready to relinquish the small peck, your eyes hold onto what your lips couldn’t.

Doused with the same state, Viktor’s own lips remain parted, likely still lingering with the sensation of having yours pressed against them. A sensation it seemed he also wasn’t quite ready to surrender by the looks of it.

When your eyes meet, heavy and cautious and equally full of need for the other, Viktor tilts his head just slightly. His dark brows furrow, knitted with contemplation or curiosity—maybe both. But you recognize the purpose behind that look.

He’s trying to read you.

And rivaling the very book you pulled from the shelf, you let him.

He easily pages through your wanting expression, mulls over your body language until you catch him glance back at your mouth with a gaze that transitions from reserved to ravenous in a blink before meeting your eyes again.

Neither of you say a word. Neither of you have to.

He just quirks a brow at you.

Quicker than usual.

More intentional.

Not at all the expression you’ve seen when something has piqued his curiosity. Or when he’s wanting more insight that was initially provided.

No, this was something else.

This was a wordless way to say, ‘your move’. An affirmation that there could be more if you wanted it. Wanted him.

This wasn’t a request for more information.

It was a request for more…of you.

…

Maybe it’s just your imagination, but in the corner of your eye, you could’ve sworn you saw one of the icicles break away from the sill.

…

Turns out you’re tired of being frozen too.

Finally, you move—leaning forward and tipping your head to catch Viktor’s lips more fully than before. You can hear him inhale sharply at the sudden contact, can picture his brows pinching together in concentration…

…can feel his back hit the wall with a resounding ‘thud' as your actions come a bit more rushed than you intended. A soft “mmph” escapes from his lips to yours at the impact, his hand jerking from your forearm to your delt for balance, but he doesn’t break the kiss.

Still, you consider pulling back to make sure he’s alright. To apologize for quite literally throwing yourself at the other man. You place your hands against the surface on either side of his hips, bracing to push yourself away.

But his arm wraps around your shoulders instead—pulling you closer and reassuring you that he’s okay. That this is okay.

…more than okay.

It doesn’t seem like his first kiss, and it definitely isn’t yours, but judging by how much you both have clearly been wanting this, it might as well be.

Your hands are clumsy when you blindly reach for his waist—scraping your knuckles on the wooden door as you add to the symphony of thuds pounding against it.

And Viktor’s moments are no smoother.

Abandoning his support, his palm warms your cheek as slender fingers splay wildly against your ear and neck. You can feel him straining, his digits curling slightly before releasing—like he was holding onto his self-control by a thread. Fighting with himself from being too rough with you.

Too hungry for you.

Too consumed by you to care that his actions are quickly followed by a boisterous clank as his cane hits the floor.

…Which only seems to spur you both on.

Viktor’s lips crash against yours again and again. Each kiss becoming more desperate than the last with each breath sounding harsher in between. Your need for each other easily outweighing the desire to come up for air as the sound of huffs fill the room.

A small experimental press into your shoulder has you shift your stance, staggering your legs in between Viktor’s to accommodate the slight imbalance. You can feel his weight begin to fully settle onto you and you happily hold him against the door while his other hand drifts from your cheek.

Inch by agonizing inch his hand trails downwards—reading the lines that have shaped your history and sculpted your features like brail under his fingertips. His touch is cautious…curious—moving carefully over your chest, following each curve that dips around tense muscles and scars that never healed quite right.

You sigh into him while he explores you, pausing his pursuit on the raised line left from a bullet grazing you the day your parents died. He tables the questions churning in his mind to tilt his head and kiss you deeper.

Soothe your old wounds with magic of his own.

He presses his lips to yours more gently than the last time, slowing the adrenaline-fueled pace before you feel the featherlight touch of his tongue brushing along your lower lip. Your breath hitches as you savor how soft he is with you. How his movements are so delicate despite the tangible desire brimming just beneath their surface.

It’s quite the dichotomy. Strong enough to knock the air out of you.

In the form of a moan, sure. Which Viktor gladly muffles when he feels you part your lips for him. His tongue eagerly begins to dance with yours, moving slowly at first while he gets use to you before easily falling into a back and forth of give and take.

The thin fabric of his shirt leaves little to the imagination as your own hands begin to wander, running up his back before languidly trailing down again. He arches into your touch—pulls you closer while you start to memorize the curvature of his spine, the edges of his shoulder blades, the indents of his hips.

It’s effortless—getting lost in Viktor. His skin radiates a warmth that draws you in like a moth to a flame. You can’t help but consider the likelihood of his rising temperature being a byproduct of the arcane that recently resonated inside of him.

And that gives you an unexpected rush that you can’t explain.

Something along the lines of he can understand you on a base level that no one else has been able to even come close to reaching. Knows what it’s like to have something entirely unruly course through his veins without a compass or care. Knows the static and heat and tension and release of it all.

A micro-dosed version of it, sure.

A micro dose is more than enough in a world sober of magic. And more than enough to fully lose your inhibitions with him.

Deft fingers drag slow as molasses along your stomach, rippling over the contours that are already wound tightly in knots. You can feel him hum approvingly, clearly enjoying how your muscles tense under his teasing.

But not as much as you enjoy the sound he makes when you catch his lip between your teeth.

It’s a hushed groan caught in the crosshairs of surprise and pleasure. Barely above a murmur, but audible evidence that he’s come a little more undone. You give a light tug and match the subdued sigh that you pull from his lips, warmth blooming in your chest while his fingers dig into your shoulder and abdomen.

When you let go you can feel his smile while he chases evasive breaths, lips catching on yours lightly with each word that passes from them.

“And you…” He chuckles softly before finishing. “…said you don’t bite.” He follows his statement by taking the lead—pushing himself off the door, snaking an arm around your waist, and taking shallow steps to walk you backwards.

“I made…” You grin at his callback, trying to find your breath as well in between kisses and footsteps. “…an exception.”

“Do you make those often?” His voice sounds shot, graveled with passion that grows with each step. “Exceptions…”

“From time to time.” Your ears are burning and you’ve been so caught up in his aftershocks that you barely notice the pressure that’s caused your skimpy ass shorts to get tighter. You reinforce your own voice, playing into his question that you know is alluding to the common rules of a first date. “We’ve already made quite a few…”

“What like…assault?”

His clever response causes you to grin into a small kiss, your tongue teasing his before you correct him. “Well, battery. Technically.”

“That’s…not better.”

After another kiss, another step you manage to answer back with a crime of his own from the evening. “And how about theft?”

A playful nibble on your lip hitches your breath before he hums another rule broken from the list. “Mm. Vandalism.”

Gradually you get use to letting him steer you blind, your movements shifting from an uneven shuffle to steady-ish steps. You figure he trusted you mending him with raw magic—you can trust him not to let you fall on these expensive floors.

Not that you would care at this point anyway.

“Can’t forget about gambling.”

“Of course not.”

The backs of your knees hit the bedframe and you both stop in your tracks.

His focus travels.

Yours follows.

A glance behind you puts the luxe mattress layered with more blankets and pillows than you have in your entire loft into plain view. The implications of what comes after sitting heavy in the air as Viktor’s hands fall to your hips.

Your half-lidded vision is blurred but mesmerized by the way his whiskey eyes drink you in. His gaze moves down your chest and over your stomach until it drops low enough to make your cheeks flush.

“We could…just retire for the night, [Y/n].” His tone gives you all of the comfort in the world that it was okay to do so as he lifts a hand to cradle your cheek. “Falling asleep beside you—” He pauses, a sincere smile pulling at his lips while he imagines what that looks like. “That would be enough for me.”

Kind, warm eyes reflect the honesty behind sweet words. You match his smile and get lost in his touch, leaning into his palm before placing your hand on his. Thin fabric still leaving little to the imagination, you only have to glimpse down for a second to steel your thoughts into a word.

“Unless…?”

“Unless…” Warm ignites into to a smolder, sweet swiftly becomes sultry, and his touch fades from your cheek to fidget with the hem of your shirt.

“You’d like to make one more exception with me…”

----------

A/N: Oh it's HEATIN' UP--thanks to everyone for being patient with this chapter, it took a minute to fully form and write up and I hope it gives some warm fuzzies during these TRYING times :) Also wanted to say hi hello and welcome to any new folks! I am loving every comment, they seriously make my day. I'm so glad y'all are here and hope you enjoy the read! This is definitely a longer fic that started as a comfort read/be a place to visit if you've had a hard day and has turned into an entire story that I'm really excited to continue. I'm not sure how far into season 2 we'll go yet since we still have a few episodes left, but I'll be sure to include some tidbits and little easter eggs regardless of where to story finishes.  Thank you also for the follows, feedback, likes, shares and everything in between. It means the world to me and I'm beyond humbled this lil thing has brought some folks even a little bit of joy.  If you're feeling wild, my ko-fi is linked to my pinned post and in my lil sidebar (no pressure ever, I do this for free and because I love it)...But if there's a dollar in there I will be telling my homophobic dad his son made a buck writing gay smut at the family dinner next week. 

And if that isn't success I don't know what is. Anyway, thank you again for reading and I hope everyone is doing well out there! Cheers, Ghost

[inkspiredwriting]

Oh Boy

Five Hargreeves x reader

A/N: Welcome Milo Hargreeves :)

Warnings: none

The Hargreeves siblings were on the road, packed into Klaus's eclectic van that smelled faintly of patchouli and spilled coffee. They helped five with a mission for the CIA and as usual, the situation had spiraled into a series of bizarre events. Currently, they were arguing about the quickest route back to the house, with Luther insisting on a shortcut through a dense forest and Diego arguing for the main highway.

"I’m telling you, Diego, the forest is faster!" Luther exclaimed, leaning over the map splayed across his knees.

"And I’m telling you, it’s full of potholes and we’ll get stuck," Diego countered, his brow furrowing.

In the back of the van, Five was sandwiched between Viktor and Ben, trying to tune out the noise. He sighed and glanced at his watch, wondering how much longer this argument would last. His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing.

"Hold on," Five said, fishing his phone out of his pocket. "It’s Y/n."

The van quieted slightly, everyone curious about the call. Five answered, his expression softening of the thought of his wife’s voice.

"Hey, Y/n. What’s up?" he asked, but before Y/n could respond, a high-pitched, excited voice cut in.

"Daddy! Daddy! It’s happening!" Maddie’s voice squealed over the line, almost making Five drop his phone.

"Maddie? What’s happening?" Five asked, a sudden sense of urgency creeping into his voice.

"Mommy’s having the baby! Right now!" Maddie announced with the dramatic flair only a four-year-old could muster. "She said you need to come to the hospital fast!"

Five’s eyes widened, and he shot up straight in his seat. "What? Now? She’s having the baby now?"

"Yes, right now!" Maddie confirmed. "Mommy’s really funny. She keeps saying she’s never letting you near her again."

Five’s mind raced as he heard Y/n’s voice in the background, yelling something indistinct but likely very colorful about her current situation. He looked around at his siblings, his urgency palpable.

"We need to get to the hospital, now!" he shouted, cutting through the chatter.

"What? Why?" Diego asked, confused.

"Y/n’s in labor!" Five snapped, already clambering over Ben to get to the front seat. "Maddie just called me. She’s having the baby right now!"

The van erupted into chaos as everyone started talking at once, but Klaus, in a rare moment of clarity, turned the key in the ignition and started the engine.

"Hold on tight, everyone!" Klaus shouted, slamming his foot on the gas. "Baby on the way!"

Klaus drove like a man possessed, weaving through traffic with an agility that had Diego clutching his seatbelt and Luther grumbling about safety. Five was in the passenger seat, frantically giving directions to the hospital while trying to keep Maddie calm on the phone.

"It’s okay, Maddie. I’m on my way," Five said, his voice as calm as he could manage. "Tell Mommy I’ll be there soon."

"Hurry, Daddy! Mommy looks like she’s gonna explode!" Maddie replied, clearly enjoying the drama more than Five appreciated.

"Exploding wives, huh?" Klaus quipped, glancing at Five. "Sounds like a blast!"

"Not the time, Klaus!" Five barked, clutching his phone tighter. "Just drive faster."

"On it, Chief," Klaus said, narrowly avoiding a pedestrian as he took a sharp turn.

"Can’t you just, you know, teleport there?" Viktor asked from the back seat.

"I would, but I need to get to the exact location and I can't teleport straight into the hospital without potentially causing a scene," Five replied, his foot tapping anxiously.

"Like this isn’t causing a scene," Ben muttered, gripping the edge of his seat as Klaus swerved around a slow-moving truck.

By some miracle (and a lot of near-misses), they arrived at the hospital. Klaus parked the van haphazardly across two spaces, and Five was out of the vehicle before it even came to a complete stop.

"Come on, move!" he shouted over his shoulder, racing towards the hospital entrance. His siblings scrambled to keep up, but Five was a man on a mission.

Bursting through the hospital doors, Five dashed to the reception desk. "My wife is having a baby! Where’s the maternity ward?"

The receptionist blinked, startled by his sudden appearance. "Uh, down the hall to the left, sir."

Five didn’t wait for further instructions. He took off, navigating the hospital corridors with the precision of a seasoned time traveler.

He finally reached the maternity ward and skidded to a stop outside the room. He could hear Y/n’s voice, alternating between shouting at the nurses and groaning in pain.

"Y/n?" Five called, pushing open the door.

Y/n, in the midst of a contraction, looked up, her face red and sweaty but breaking into a relieved smile when she saw him. "Five! About time you got here!"

"Sorry, traffic was a nightmare," Five said, rushing to her side and taking her hand. "How are you holding up?"

"How do you think?" Y/n snapped, then softened as she squeezed his hand. "I’m glad you’re here."

"Me too," Five said, kissing her forehead. "I wouldn’t miss this for the world."

"Daddy!" Maddie piped up from the corner, sitting on a chair with Allison. "Mommy said a lot of bad words."

"Yeah, she does that sometimes," Five said, smiling despite the chaos.

The next few hours were a blur of contractions, encouraging words, and a lot of hand-squeezing (mostly on Y/n’s part). Five stayed by her side the entire time, alternating between calming her and glaring at the clock as if willing it to speed up.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the cries of a newborn filled the room. Five’s heart swelled as the nurse placed their baby boy in Y/n’s arms.

"Welcome to the world, Milo," Five whispered, his voice choked with emotion as he gently touched the baby’s tiny hand.

"He’s beautiful," Y/n murmured, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked up at Five. "Just like his dad."

"I don’t know about that," Five said, his own eyes misty. "But he’s perfect."

"Daddy! Is that my brother?" Maddie asked, peeking over the edge of the bed.

"Yes, sweetie," Five said, lifting her up so she could see. "This is Milo. You’re a big sister now."

Maddie’s eyes widened as she looked at her baby brother, a mixture of awe and curiosity on her face. "He’s so small. Can I hold him?"

"Maybe later," Five said, ruffling her hair. "Right now, he needs to stay with Mommy."

The Hargreeves siblings, who had been waiting anxiously in the hallway, were finally allowed into the room. They filed in, each offering congratulations and admiring the newest member of the family.

"Nice job, Five," Diego said, clapping him on the back.

"He’s adorable," Allison cooed, peeking at Milo.

"Looks like you didn’t miss the main event after all," Viktor said, smiling.

"Yeah, thanks to Klaus’s driving," Five admitted, glancing at his brother.

"Hey, any time," Klaus said, grinning. "Just don’t expect me to do it every day."

Five rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile. As he looked around at his family, gathered around Y/n and baby Milo, he felt a profound sense of happiness and contentment.

Despite the chaos and the near heart attacks along the way, he wouldn’t trade this moment for anything. Because now, more than ever, he knew that his family—both immediate and extended—was what mattered most.

[chaoticallywriting]

Animals ⋋Chapter One⋌

A/N: Thank you to all the love that I've received over the prologue! I did change the name from Beastly to Animals for all those who may be confused. It just felt better. This will be updated every Saturday unless otherwise stated. As always, thank you so much to @blitzs-largest-horsiest-dildo for proof reading this for me <3

Pairing: Silco x Reader (eventual/slow burn), Viktor x reader (past/ex's)

Summary: Heartbroken and disgraced from your lifelong dream coming to a halt and the only person you've ever loved abandoning your scientific pursuit. You decide to turn towards a newfound Kingpin in the city you once called your home in hopes of making your dreams come true.

Warnings: Classism, arguing, theft, lack of self care, mentions of prostitution, mentions of nausea, mentions of teenagers operating bars, poverty

WC: 4.7

Before // After // AO3

So maybe in your haste to pack you might have stolen your shared savings that you had both stored away in a floorboard under your mattress. Maybe you were using said savings to get a cheap apartment in the Undercity and maybe you spent the first four days wallowing in bed while combating a nasty cold.

You were never the one to get sick, always tried to keep yourself healthy so you could watch over Viktor. Never stayed in the cold for long, always kept yourself warm, tried to eat regularly. You wonder how he is, if he's figured out it's over. If he's missing your fingers in his hair like you're missing his. Is he peering out at the nasty weather in your old apartment, wallowing as you are?

You'd shared goals with Viktor, or so you thought. You whispered them while you were meant to be sleeping as teenagers, after you moved in with him and his ailing mother. She worked doubles despite her horrid cough just so he wouldn't have to work and to thank her for letting you share a bed with him, you ended up working at some dodgy bar near the pier. Should a fifteen year old be pouring beer? Probably not in Piltover, but in the Undercity a job was a job, and if you were old enough to wipe your own ass then chances were you were old enough to do whatever brought in cash.

But those nights, the ones where your legs would tangle under the threadbare blanket on his bed due to the lack of room and his arm would wrap around you, that was when you'd whisper about your dreams. All you wanted was to make the Undercity a better place, and more specifically wished to clean out the water that the city got it's main food source from. The fish were as questionable as the air in the mines or the quality of light and so no one batted an eye if one of those bad boys had three extra fins or if the insides held a concerning green hue. If it didn't immediately kill you then it would only make you stronger. A motto used in many establishments.

The water was highly toxic, toxic enough that it made being a fisherman one of the most dangerous careers in the Undercity. Spending all day out in those oil slicked waters, fingers getting nicked from fish hooks and then soaked in the salty, polluted amalgamation Piltover tried to pass off as 'safe'. The life expectancy of a fisherman was short and children were told to be grateful your pops lasted as long as he did.

You were meant to clean the waters, and then use the money made from your purifier to fund the medical research needed to keep Viktor and so many other street rats alive. To clear their lungs of the pollution constantly swirling inside, embedding itself into the very lining of such a vital organ. But it's gone, all of it.

On the fifth day you finally get up and shower, you've been surviving off of stale crackers and slop from a food stall right outside your building. The lack of proper nutrition left you a bit nauseous and swaying lightly as you take the stairs down to the busy streets two at a time. From your brief time apartment hunting (if you can call taking the first place you found apartment hunting) you learned there had been a shift in power recently. While the infamous Vander hadn't necessarily in charge of the Undercity, he had helped keep it afloat.

Back when you had spoken to the landlord of this mold infested joint, he had offered you one of his cheap cigarette's. After quickly declining he had waddled over to the counter of your new kitchen and blown a puff of smoke into your face. His voice was raspy as he muttered to you about the recent happenings in the Lanes. "Now that new big shot's got some drug gettin' sold in the clubs and a' bars. Don't get hung up on that shit, I don't need any a' my tenants usin' rent money on some glowin' purple liquid."

"Big shot?" It had been years since you lived in the Undercity and they didn't exactly have a newspaper to help keep their citizens up to date on recent happenings. Word of mouth was the best you'd get, so you pried some more but all he had to offer was how a bunch of important people wound up dead a couple weeks ago. Roughly around the same time that big explosion happened at Jayce's apartment. Stupid fucking Hextech.

Now the Last Drop is under construction. You needed more information, and there were certain places in this city that got information faster and more accurately than anywhere else. One place in particular was so popular and high in demand that just about any half decent girl born in these slums had debated trying out for a spot on the staff just to get them off the streets. Babette's.

The Brothel had been around since before you were born and potentially before your own mother was born too. She had briefly worked there before meeting your dad and some of the older staff members had always been kind to you in passing. They made sure to treat the girls like family, so if you were related to one? Well then it was your lucky day.

It's early enough that the place is practically desolate, the front rooms near the entrance are empty, being cleaned by the back of house staff, and the sounds coming from nearby bedrooms are few and far between. You pass them all, heading straight for the office you had last gone into in order to say goodbye to the woman in charge. Now you're rapping your knuckles against the worn wood, nose scrunching as the intense fragrances of a nearby incense wafts over to you. The citrus scented smoke only serves to remind you of your lack of breakfast as your stomach almost turns.

A muffled, "come in," comes from a worn voice you'd recognize anywhere. You venture inside the office where an elderly Yordle sits behind a wooden desk that looks nicer than most pieces found in this city. A cigarillo is held between two of her fingers and the usually jovial expression seems replaced by something mournful. She's somehow aged ten years and somehow you know it must be because of the rumored deaths at the warehouse.

Her expression only softens upon spotting you, eyes saddening even further. The cigarillo gets dropped into a metal ash tray and suddenly she's up and walking towards you. "I thought you escaped."

So did you. All you can offer is a shrug and a watery smile that doesn't reach your eyes. Soon the yordle is beckoning you and you're bending over to hug her so tightly she might just pop like a balloon. But she doesn't, she only hugs you back.

"Oh honey, what happened? Did something happen to Viktor?"

His name only furthers your tears, causing cracks along the mental dam you've been building over the past few days. You grip at her lascivious robe, breaths coming out a little choked for a minute or two. Only a minute or two. You can't keep losing it, you won't let yourself. You got out of bed determined to fix this shit. Crying won't do anyone any good.

"He abandoned our research, found someone new with a shinier idea." Before you can stop yourself, you're confessing everything to her, sparing no details. You watch as her eyes begin to blaze when you mention getting tossed out like some kind of vermin. At this point she's managed to coax you into one of her arm chairs that reek of smoke and cheap perfume. She rings a bell for tea and some porridge, something hearty to help fill your empty stomach. Your exhaustion and poor self care must be obvious because she stirs in some honey to your porridge before handing it to you. Part of you wishes she had taken you in as a teenager instead of Milena and Viktor, maybe then your heart wouldn't feel like it's been split in two.

But Babette had known a brothel was no place for a teenager, despite the dubious ages of most of the working class in this city. Even if you'd just lived with her, you still would've been connected to this place, and she always said it'd drag you down if you stayed. Everyone thought you were too brilliant to be tied to this city, but now your here and he's up there.

"I heard," you say after swallowing a mouthful of hot porridge. Your tongue burns from it, but you find yourself barely caring. "That Vander died?"

There was a time when you were far younger, before the attempted revolution on the bridge, where it seemed most of the Undercity was finally a united front. There was still crime, still backstabbing, but it had become scarce among fellow street rats. Instead foreigners were targeted for pick pocketing and scams. Your dad had spoken a few times about secret meetings over oily boxes of Jericho's only for your mom to flick a clump of rice at his face in return. 'I won't become a widow just because you let some smooth talker convince you to become one of their soldiers.'

He'd grunt and pout the rest of the meal, pushing around his fried tentacles before little eleven year old you would dart for one of them. The mood would lift and all would be forgotten.

"Yeah, him and three of his kids. Rumor has it he's got the living one locked up somewhere. No one's seen her."

That's darker than you expected. Messed up shit happens all the time in the Fissures but it's still a shock, especially when there's kids involved. There was a time when there was so few that made it past the first couple months, before the filtration system had been put in place. Children were a rarity and teenagers were shocking. You were told stories of that dark time seeing as you were one of the few born right before the air ducts were built.

While you remained fine with lungs relatively untouched, the kids in your age group were sparse. Viktor wasn't as fortunate as you were, but you both had a theory that genetics also played a part in his misfortune. With his mother passing away from a common and supposedly incurable illness. Right now it was mainly just his leg and an occasional cough during winter, but that same cough is how it started for her.

"Listen, kid. . ." She relights her long forgotten cigarillo, smoke swirling through the room as the elderly mistress inhales deeply. Her fingers rub against the worn paper, lips pressing into a thin line. "If you can get back into Piltover, do it. Shit's changin' and I can't promise it's for the best."

She means well, she's only saying this because she cares. You try to remind yourself of this but you find yourself setting the half empty bowl down with a roll of your eyes. There's nothing left up there, nothing to go back to. You both destroyed your chances; him with you and you with… Well everything. You stole from him, destroyed academy equipment, and called those enforcers variety of colorful names. They probably laughed about you to their coworkers over drinks that night. Probably didn't care if you wound up dead after tossing you out like trash. You go up there and you lose your pride. Which is just about all you have left. You'd rather scrape your way through the underbelly of this city than lose that.

"Who's the big bad that's got everyone all scared?" With a lofted brow you pick up your chipped cup of tea that is mostly lukewarm. It has copious amounts of honey in it, just the way you like it. "I was born and raised here, I've dealt with Undercity assholes and Piltover assholes. You know how many guys I've fucked up from my days bar tending."

She stares into your eyes and you simply stare back as you sip your tea. Your stubbornness is something many hate, it's a trait you've been told to work on all your life. But your mom was stubborn just like you, and Babette always found it endearing. Until now, it seems, at least you think so. You aren't one of her girls, she can't frighten you with stern motherly love. So after a few beats, once your tea is almost gone, she finally speaks.

The new big shot (as your landlord dubbed him) is named Silco. An ex revolutionist who ran 'The Children of Zaun'. He helped organize the big bridge riot all those years ago and for some time he went quiet, licked his wounds, or well, according to Babette, his wound. "It's frightening, unnatural. Nothing is normal in this city but that reeks of the kind of shady dealings that'll get you in Stillwater."

He's responsible for all their deaths. Apparently some big fight happened at his old hideout, some abandoned factory. But that was blown to smithereens so he's taken his seat at his new throne. The Last Drop.

Most of the coziness has apparently already been torn away. Neon lights and some big addition to the back are being constructed. And the purple liquid Mr. Landlord mentioned? Babette calls it shimmer, well first she calls it bad news and then she specifies that it's actually called shimmer. Some new drug that tops all the others, that's dangerous beyond dangerous and yet-

"So he's a chemist?"

"I didn't say that, he's just the one distributing it. I don't think Silco could make shimmer himself. That wasn't his specialty."

You frown, calloused hands gripping your empty tea cup. "But he has to know who made it if he's distributing it. Which means he knows an extremely skilled chemist. At least if this stuff is as bad as you're saying."

She scoffs and slides off her chair. Her cigarillo has since burnt out and despite the fact that it's barely midday, she heads straight for her bar cart. She uncorks some bottle with a worn label on it, pouring herself a glass with her hunched back facing you. "It is bad, kid. The worst. I know you wanna make everything better but a guy like Silco will just destroy whatever it is. He's not a good guy anymore, not since the bridge."

"I'm not saying he's a good guy, Babette. I bet the chemist is an ass too. But my idea, it could make them millions and if you're telling me he once wanted to make this city a better place then-"

"Shimmer won't make this city better," she interjects. Her glass is already empty, so she fills it again. "He just wants power. Please , for once, listen to me."

The stroll you take around the docks does little to quell your thoughts. You have two options and both aren't looking so great. Option one, you listen to Babette and maybe get a job bar tending again to make ends meet. You try to scrape together the materials you need for your purifier and hopefully stumble across a biochemist worthy of helping with your project. If you don't manage either of those then you drink every bar in the Undercity into closure.

Option two, while far riskier, holds a much higher reward. You break your promise to Babette and find a way to talk to this Silco man. You manage to work alongside his biochemist and make your childhood home the thriving community you always envisioned. Whilst potentially only drinking one bar into closure.

If for some reason you can't convince the big bad one eyed monster, then either he kills you or you go back to option one. Which, in some ways, will most likely be worse than death. Giving up on your dream, scraping to get by, letting go of the last speck of joy in your life.

As you reach the end of a pier, the oil slick water comes into view. Swirls of pinks, greens, and yellows all float along the surface, looking like some kind of gorgeous painting that would be held in a pretentious gallery in Piltover. But it's not art, it's how your people live. It's what killed your father and continues to slowly kill so many others. A school of four eyed fish swim by, bodies swaying through the thickened waters.Hope flickers in your chest, a familiar flame that's felt doused in this tumultuous time. You can still make a difference.

Maybe by the time Babette finds out you broke your promise, your purifier could be done and she'd see that what you did was worth it. If not then, well, the Undercity is used to losing people. At this point the only person left who would even notice is the old Yordle herself. Your parents are dead and you sort of isolated yourself growing up. You'd clung to Viktor and stuck your nose up at others. Occasionally you'd let Skye come around but it always made your stomach twist with how she gazed at him. You know it's the same way you look looked at him. Like he hung the moon and painted the stars. Like you'd die if you didn't feel the brush of his lips against your own.

The taste of salt jars you and your shaking fingers brush against wet droplets gliding down your cheeks. Perhaps coming to the docks wasn't the best idea, it always made you feel sad, as reminders of your dad often did. Your heart is already so fragile right now. With a slight scrunch of your nose you aggressively wipe at your eyes and take a deep breath. The salty ocean air offers a slight change of pace from the Undercity's smokey streets and the stifling halls of the academy. You welcome it, even as the slight burn from the pollution clings to your throat.

You can't let others hold you back anymore, not Viktor or Babette. You know she means well but you need this like you need air. This idea is all you have and you cling to it like some fiend desperate for their next fix. It's not worth living if you can't have this, perhaps you could have been placated with a simple life in the shadows, if you had him with you.

But you don't.

Your feet carry you back to your shoddy fourth floor walk up apartment as you think of how you need to make this work. The idea of turning the Undercity into a better place with your invention and ideas not only thrills you because of the positive change that would come of it but because it would feel like the perfect revenge. A middle finger to your ex, a way to shove in his face everything he gave up.

Moving quickly, you shove everything you need back into your bag before rushing off once more with a slam of your door. You almost forget to lock it in your haste for your destination. Just like you almost miss the last step of the stairs or how you continuously bump into others as you race through the streets. This is the most invigorated you've felt in weeks, even before the breakup. Viktor had been coming home later and spending less time in the lab, and it had made you feel invisible, like your work meant nothing. But right now as your boots smack against uneven cobblestone your heart races with that same feeling you get right before you solve an equation. Like that last puzzle piece has finally been found.

So Babette will never know of you standing in front of the Last Drop as construction workers wrap rope around a metal beam and use a pulley system to lift it up into the air. She'll never know of you gripping your bag that's full of paper and journals and your metal model. Babette will think you're at home, wallowing as you told her you would be. Crying over a broken heart instead of marching past two frightening looking men that stand on either side of the double doors. Shoving Jericho's into your mouth instead of side stepping piles of building materials and loose nails.

Maybe she thinks you'll go looking for a cat to suffocate with all your sadness, not sliding up to the bar where some lanky kid is pouring over blueprints. "Hi," you say as you totally don't break your promise to Babette.

The guy, who couldn't be older than maybe seventeen, jerks his head full of greasy hair up to you. His eyes shoot up to his brows, lips smacking before stuttering out "oh we aren't open yet! Uh, if you're here for the lunch delivery you just leave the food at that booth over there." He shoves his pencil in the direction of the booth, waggling it for emphasis.

You just shake your head, fingers tapping against the sawdust covered bar. "I'm here to see Silco."

His face reminds you of a fish fresh from being caught. Right after your dad would pull the hook from their mouth, they'd just sort of gape at you. This must be his first job, you can't recall being this nervous at the bar but then again, that felt like eons ago. The sounds of construction from outside fill the awkward silence that follows, sawmills, hammering, curse words and shouts. The usual.

"Is he here?…"

"No one is allowed to go see him. He's busy."

"I get that, but I've got something he might wanna see."

For all his awkwardness he finally regains some semblance of normalcy, at least the kind of normalcy you'd see on any other kid. He drops the pencil onto the counter that is littered in papers and blue prints and shakes his head, letting out a deep huff.

"He'll be mad if I interrupt him. I'm sorry. Maybe uh, mention it to the guys by the door and they can tell him you came by. They actually talk to him . . . Sometimes. I've never talked to him. Or seen him, I just bring the contractors whatever they ask fo- Oh shit they asked me for these blueprints!" He scrambles to grab fistfuls of the paper, pencil clattering to the floor and suddenly he's off.

Leaving you alone. In the building that Silco is supposedly in. Hmm, your feet drag you towards a cramped looking staircase to the left of the bar. The mezzanine above is small, just shoddy wooden railing, maybe five steps and then a door. To the left you can hear construction just past the wall, this must be where they plan to expand. You wonder what's included in this grand idea of his, maybe a special murder room? The way Babette spoke of him he sounds like he'd want a place to beat up innocent people.

Only one more obstacle. There's another beefy guy in front of this door. He's not all nervous and unsure like the kid below, instead he's standing with his chest puffed out and his hands clasped in front of him. He's got a gun strapped to his waist and arms the size of your head. You aren't a fighter, you're a scientist, an engineer to be specific. You can throw a decent punch when it comes to handsy drunkards but a professional? Yeah, that's not happening.

"Get out," his voice is gruff, very stereotypical of a big scary guard. Maybe you'll get to keep your promise to Babette after all. I mean you can't break it if you never even managed to see him. But still, you step forward and let out a deep, shaky sigh.

You take another hesitant step forward. "Look I'm not a threat, you can literally stand directly behind me the whole time if you'd like. I just really need to see this guy."

"No."

Your shoulders slump, eyes beginning to burn. You just need a win. If you don't get a win soon then surely you'll combust into a million tiny shard of despair. Maybe that's what causes you to blurt out your words, voice a little louder than intended as you swing your arms about for emphasis.

"I don't know who you are, I barely know who this guy is but I do know that people say he used to want to change this place for the better and I-" you swing your bag around, hastily opening the flap and rip out a handful of crumpled notes. In your haste to grab the papers you hadn't noticed the guard withdraw his gun but you see it once you look up. Your hands shake, voice wavering. "I have this brilliant idea, something that can help. So if you just let me in."

He doesn't move, gun still pointed at you. He cocks a bow, so you wave your hands. Gods if you could see yourself a week ago you would have laughed. You're about to cry in front of this stranger while brandishing your research papers and blueprints at him. You probably look insane. Maybe those blue bellies were right.

"Just let me in! This is revolutionary, it's something he'll want to back if all the rumors are true!"

The guard shoves his gun back into his holster, but your excitement is short lived as he walks over to you. Rough hands grab your waist and you begin to wiggle in his grasp. Strange men need to stop manhandling you and you need to invest in some knives so this doesn't happen again.

Your hands smack against his back as he tosses you over his shoulder, papers clutched tightly in your fist. "Let me go! Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!" You bark at him, "How fucking dare you, How fucking dare all you fucking me-"

"Egor, set the loud woman down." From the way you're being held you can't see who said that, but their voice is smooth and masculine. It runs down your spine like honey slowly running down the handle of a teaspoon. The brute of a man slowly sets you down, his emotionless eyes staring down at you before he steps aside to let you through. "Thank you."

As you finally lay eyes on the talk of the city, you get what Babette meant earlier when she'd referred to Silco's wound. Before you is a tall, lithe man who holds himself with a certain confident air. His sharp face has two very different and very striking eyes; one sea green, kind of the like the foam that bubbles over the water sometimes, and the other bright orange, like a flame.

The orange one is surrounded in inky blackness and you find yourself wishing to ask how he managed that. It's got to be something with medicine or drugs or a procedure because well, people don't just develop literal black eyes. But even then his impressive eyes aren't the only striking feature. High cheekbones, a strong nose and sharp jaw- he looks almost aristocratic. Like he's to good for street rats like you.

"I'm not usually loud," you utter after a few beats of silence. Silence spent with him looking you over as you gawked at this strange and yet powerful man. You wouldn't have needed to hear all the gossip to know it either, not with how he holds himself. Power and control rolls off him in waves and sort of sucks you in. "I'm just desperate."

"Desperation tends to lead towards mistakes."

His eyes rake over you once more before lingering on your hands which are still white knuckling disorganized research papers and notes. You slightly loosen your hold and in the overwhelming silence you can hear the slight crinkle from them.

"Can't make mistakes if you've got nothing to lose."

His lips, narrow with a defined cupids bow, slightly quirk to the right at your words. "Even more dangerous if you have nothing left."

Despite his words Silco steps to the side, uttering "come in." You find yourself quickly obeying and your heart begins to race once more. As you step over the threshold something feels final, your boots press against the floorboards and some kind of line has been crossed. You don't know what or how but something drastic is about to happen.

And then the door clicks shut.

Taglist : @soniiyi @galactic-magick @adsky4 @alexandra-001 @drpepper280 @mac-and-cheese21 @watasinekoru @anthy-j-ander @fudosl (if your name is struck through than it would not let me tag you! You may need to check your settings)

[thaliajoy-blog]

If you ask me Silco kind of already achieved the glorious evolution back in the days, pack it up Viktor cause look at thissss

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - Name Day - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Jinx's love life is complicated...

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Snippet:

"You still haven't told me," Ekko says, and there's a hoarse hitch in his throat, "what you want."

"Want for what?"

"Your Name Day."

Jinx smiles.

Lifting one pale hand, she strokes a pattern into the bare curve of his shoulder. Zephyr leaves, looping in invisible spirals. He doesn't flinch; but he's close enough that she can see the flecks of deep-amber in his eyes darken to burnt coffee. His skin holds the same aroma: something clean, yet enticingly sharp.

It's a scent that's always clung to him, for as far as she can stretch memory's fingers. And for as long as she remembers, it's always stirred a peculiar sensation in her belly.

Something that leaves her both hungry all over and yet deeply satisfied at once.

Jinx breathes in, and holds it.

"I mean," Ekko goes on, his palm callused and warm on her kneecap. "We missed a lot of years. What're you supposed to get somebody who shoots at you half the time?"

"I'm not shooting at you now."

Though she could, if she wanted. PuffPuff is nestled between their bodies, snug inside her thigh-holster. For the moment, though, the danger's dormant. The gun may as well be a trusting little piggy tucked safely under a blanket.

There's no gap for a bullet to break on. And though both she and Ekko are fully-clothed, the moment's too bare for concealment.

This is Neutral Territory; these are naked feelings.

Neither is completely safe.

"There's lots of things I want," Jinx says, as her fingers itsy-bitsy spider up the curve of his bicep. "Problem is, most of 'em don't belong to me."

"And that's ever stopped you?"

"Nope."

She tips her chin; not quite meeting his querying gaze. Eye contact's a kind of trap; she hates being cornered.

But cornered she is; by the gentle pressure of his hand against her leg; by the cramped intimacy of the motorcar; by the drain of mutual antagonism they've been circling for months now.

No more blitzkriegs of bullets; no high-octane smackdowns. This is no longer a game. They've played too hard for the rules to be fair anymore.

Here, under the glow of a moon just shy of ripe, it's a dance. And in the stillness, they're in-sync: step for step, breath for breath, beat for beat.

Close as only a pair of clockwork hearts can be.

 "Look," Ekko says, because Mister Clever-Clogs has got to talk his way through whatever is incognito, even if that means blowing his own cover. "I didn't invite you here expecting anything. I don't. Not really. I just wanted..."

Jinx quirks a brow. "To talk to me?"

"Ye-eah." His voice cracks a tiny bit; a smile breaks the taut line of his jaw. "Guess so."

"So: talk."

"I—"

She scoots closer, tucking herself easily against him. Her blue head nestles on his breastbone. His chest's a hard curve; his heartbeat a tripwire cadence. She feels the tightly-coiled strength hidden in the lean armature of muscle. He's packed on pounds and inches since they'd last squared off on the Bridge. In place of puppy fat, there are accented angles: a firmer cut to the arms, a squared-off jaw, a broader shoulderspan.

She's reminded, viscerally, that the boy she'd spent a childhood chasing through backalleys—first as friends, then as foes—is almost full-grown.

His maturity should disquiet her; send her fleeing back to Silco's embrace. She was taught to give grown men wide berth growing up—her Daddy, for all his foibles, believed the best target's kept between the crosshairs. And Zaun's streets teemed with big, dumb bullies whose cojones outweighed common sense.

It took a fistful of firepower and a gutful of bloodlust to send 'em packing.

Jinx always carried both in excess.

Then she'd met Viktor—her wise, wasting Vitya. So pretty, with his fragile, haunted features and his aura of deathly calm, honed by decades of suffering. Like called to like; magic tangled where bodies dared not tread. She'd spent a summer breathing in his arid affections: sideways smiles traded over late-night hypotheses; cultured intonations lulling her racing mind into stillness; long-fingered hands, unhurried and precise, adjusting her measurements to bridge the gap where blind inspiration faltered.

He was safe. Safer still with his daredevil dreams of an unblemished sky, and a city reborn from scratch. With such high-swooping hopes, what did the secret stirrings of an eighteen-year-old girl matter?

Then they'd traversed to the Void, and matter ceased to hold meaning.

That day—in that rippling elsewhere of silvered sands and starfall and supernovas—she'd threaded the seams of herself to Viktor's. She'd left girlish fantasies at the wayside; she'd yielded her spirit to his, an apotheosis without parallel, surrender made sublime.

She became the magic. He became the mirror.

It was a fusion beyond mortal ken.

Except...

Except something was missing.

In the mortal plane, Viktor's soul-threads remain stitched tight to hers. The austere adulation that slips—ghostly and gilded—into her senses holds no equal, not on earth. They'd made a heaven of nothingness in the liminal. Naturally, her true self belonged there; in another realm entirely, removed from mere flesh.

Yet here, in the flesh, Jinx is alive.

Alive, and burning to be touched.

What would Viktor think, watching her nuzzle the curve of Ekko's throat? Knowing she's pledged to him in the aether—yet her heart beats hardest here? With a kid-king who rules the roost over a bunch of nobodies, but nourishes her deep-set hurts as if they're his own. Who has loved her at her weakest and loathed her at her wildest, but can't resist her when she's balanced on the fragile equilibrium between both extremes?

Viktor, Jinx thinks, would forgive her.

Viktor forgives everything. He's transcended limitation, become untouchable.

Whereas Ekko is touchable. And when he touches her, she feels it in every fiber of herself: messily, ecstatically, irrevocably.

What's it mean, Jinx wonders, as Ekko's lips butterfly her temple, that one man has her soul at knifepoint, but another one's holding her heart hostage? What's it say that she and Viktor fit together just right, but she and Ekko were built from perfectly mismatched puzzle pieces? What does it matter if she needs them both, but in ways so opposite they might as well be a different language?

How does she make the ends meet?

Especially when her life—her death—still hangs on Silco's strings? And her past—her future—still hinges on Vi's?

Her whole being seems composed of pieces that don't align. Broken fragments orbiting the very inverse of centrifugal force.

(One day, she'll write a book about it. An epic adventure of slapstick comedy, gunpowder tragedy, and interdimensional travel. All revolving around a revolution, because revolution's just love by another name.)

(Like magic.)

Ekko's fingertips trace up her spine. Jinx's trance fades.

[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.

[captainx-camino]

I'm taking Viktor to the Ball at a convention we're attending in January and, naturally, I needed a Ball outfit for that, so...

It's almost done! I'm gonna be putting the hammer symbol that Jayce has on his white coat on the back of this one and a few random cogs on the exposed breast of the coat before it's all said and done but WOO! Nearly there.

Which means, it's time for an outfit breakdown! (And a mental one. I only have a few more days until I have to pack and I still have to finish a different Jayce outfit.)

But, anyway!

I wanted to go with a princely look and I honestly think I just about nailed it.

-The coat and vest were purchased as to save myself time, since I decided to do this very last minute. I did take up the sleeves and fix the fit though so... *Shrugs* The corset vest is part of my outfit for my wedding next year to my own, actual lovely partner (who is also my Viktor). So, I already had that. Yippee.

-The shirt was just one I had in my closet that I had to take in since I've lost weight. So, already had and more fitting there.

-I did add the epaulettes to the coat, which I made by hand out of craft foam, fancy trim, and ribbon. (I layered a red ribbon over the gold trim for an extra pop of color).

-The tie was made by above mentioned partner, who made us matching ones for both our outfits. I made the little gear tie pin though out of an adjustable ring base and a couple random jewelry gears from a multi pack we have (that will also be used to decorate the breast).

-The capelette is based off The Blanket™️ and has red lining, just like said blanket does. I sewed in curtain ropes and decorative closures for some added pizzazz both where it's sewn into the capelette and where it clips around the body. The capelette also has a shoulder seam, as well as a lapel. Which was a pain in the ass. I do not recommend having to do either lmao

-The pants were also purchased, and have a double closer on the front in a very steampunk way (I wasn't about to attempt to make that in a crunch I'm already struggling lol) I will also probably be folding them so they're cuffed at the bottom, but we'll see how that works out in my final fitting.

-The shoes were thrifted and were all black when I got them. I used leather paint to paint them with the red panels, added gold trim, painted the outside of the soles gold, and there is a little hex crystal shape on the bottom of the soles that I painted blue. I also switched out black laces for maroon because they fit better with the look.

-The gloves are the same gloves I got for Jayce's black outfit and are getting a little clip added later, but otherwise nothing fancy or crazy has been done with those.

-And finally, the wristband is from Willow Creative and literally my favorite thing I have ever bought ever. I highly recommend them if you're looking for a good Jayce bracelet! Absolutely gorgeous.

For those curious, this is what's being cut out and added to the back of the coat (sorry it's a bad drawing I just needed to see what it would all look like together)

I have a couple different gold fabrics for the main body of the hammer and some nice brown filigreed damask for the brown. (White boarder will probably just be foam so it's easier to attach to the back.)

That will be added as soon as I have it completed, hopefully later today.

But yey! Jayce Talis Ball outfit!

I am so looking forward to dancing with my Viktor.

[fascinati0nstr33t]

WELCOME TO ANOTHER HEADCANON SHITSHOW🗣️🔥

ARCANE CHARACTERS AND THEIR FAVOURITE VIDEO GAMES

this was requested by @beast-master-talks 🫶, so here it is pookie

Jinx

Splatoon & League of Legends

as mentioned in my first headcanon post, Jinx would be a Splatoon enjoyer

based on her weapons, the Heavy Splatling would be her go to weapon

if not, then the stringer or the dualies

she’s a Deep Cut enjoyer, 100%

enjoys the chaos of the game itself

would spam the taunts and squid party whenever she splats someone

plays with ekko

finds the salmons ADORABLE

is a toxic player…most of the time

and that also applies in League (i haven’t played it-)

would main herself

ultimate trash talker in both games

she just enjoys a game where she can absolutely demolish anyone

honourable mention: Borderlands

Viktor

i need him-

TLOZ: Twilight Princess & Minecraft

i think viktor enjoys open-world games rather than more action packed games

(i’m pretty sure his voice actor harry lloyd said something about zelda in a video)

Twilight Princess would be his favourite out of the other games mostly because of the general aesthetic and how it’s one of the more “darker” games of the franchise

THIS MAN WOULD BE FASCINATED BY THE TWILIGHT REALM, I MEAN-

the fact you can pick up cats is also a bonus

now on the calmer side, minecraft

it’s serves as a distraction

he has a pond of axolotls in honour of rio

has banned jinx from his server cus she blew up his wolf “on accident”

has lost his mind over the redstone

Vi

Street Fighter & The Last Of Us

Street Fighter is pretty much a classic in fighting games, so i think it’s something Vi would enjoy

has had a crush on at least ONE of the female fighters

would use ryu, a known character in the game

has played against Jinx, never doing it again cus they almost tore each other apart

NOW, IN THE CASE OF TLOU-

clickers and bloaters stress her the fuck out

died around 4 times in a row during the first encounter with a bloater

even though she could have weapons or even bricks at her disposal, most of the time she fights with her bare fists

died trying to speedrun the stealth sections because she didn’t have the patience

ellie and joel’s relationship hit a bit too close to home with her

i think she would take a break from the second game after joel’s death, no literally, it would leave her absolutely broken

Caitlyn

Life Is Strange & Fire Emblem

Caitlyn would enjoy Life is Strange due to its theme of moral choices

i think she’d be a bit thrown off by the more supernatural aspects of the game, but she’d enjoy nonetheless

she’s pretty much canonically a detective figure

so i think she’d be pretty satisfied if she manages to uncover something beforehand

has talked about the game to vi, in the same way a fnaf fan would explain the lore

NOW AS FOR FIRE EMBLEM (i know, i’m hilarious-)

the overall aesthetic of her design and the Kiramman house just gave me the game’s vibes, y’know?

the customization of the unit’s skills or classes would appeal to her

the lucina allegations from vi only worsened when she started playing

Ekko

Animal Crossing & BOTW

HE WOULD HAVE THE BEST ISLAND, I KNOW IT

has invited heimerdinger over, sometimes even asked for advice when it came to designing

if he was scammed by tom nook at some point, yeah, get ready for “the boy who shattered the console”

Goldie is his favourite villager (she’s mine too)

built a community similar to the Firelights

now for BOTW, Ekko would be absolutely mesmerised by every single location and sight (minus the guardians)

Rito Village reminds him of the hideout

did try to fight Ganon without the necessary equipment but lost

dyes everything green or brown

a little timebomb thingy, he would name one of his horses after Jinx/Powder, especially if it’s one of the blue horses

gets irritated when the stable won’t accept a peculiar horse (skeleton or lord of the mountain)

bonus: tony hawk pro skater (i don’t need to elaborate)

Mel

Sims 4 & Pokémon Scarlet

she would make the most beautiful houses

her sims would have absolutely LETHAL face cards

however, that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be absolute chaos from time to time

assassinating her sims would amuse her tbh

YOURE GONNA HAVE TO HEAR ME OUT FOR POKÉMON-

she chooses either fuecoco or quaxly as a starter

her team is full of the most GLAMOROUS pokémon i just know it

gardevoir would be on there for sure

has a shitload of coins and diamonds for evolution

Jayce

(he looks like a wet dog here-)

Detroit: Become Human & FIFA

the story of DBH would have him hooked

just the entire theme of technology would have him interested

but similar to himself, he would have good intentions yet make the most dogshit choices

he would try getting the “good” ending

similar to my headcanon of him quoting Captain Falcon, he would, unironically, say “28 STAB WOUNDS” out of the blue

Jayce is a fife, i just see it that way

despite the game being far more straight to the point, he would enjoy it casually

again, COCKY

if he’s playing with other people, then things will get heated

his team is Barça, it just is

bonus: he plays minecraft with Viktor

I THINK SOME ARE MORE ACCURATE THAN OTHERS BUT EITHER WAY I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS!