#arcane viktor x reader
aerynwrites · 2 days ago
Hiraeth || Part 2
Machine Herald!Viktor x Reader
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A/N: part 2! Thank you to @thedreamlessnights for reading over this and proofing for me! ❤️ I hope you all enjoy! P.S. the past few days have been kind of crummy - So I would love to hear from you all on this chapter!
Word count: 3.2k
Warnings: Very very slight pining? Discussion of rehabilitation and pain, more slow burn.
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Being under the Machine Herald’s care turns out to be a lot of waiting. 
Waiting while he works on your leg. 
Waiting while he works on other projects at his workbench.
Waiting while he’s off doing…whatever he does when he’s not with you. 
And waiting turns into a lot of sleeping. Sleeping and healing and dreaming. 
Most of your dreams are about the riot at the marketplace. Terrible nightmares filled with screams and pain and fire that result in you waking in a cold sweat. 
So, you try to avoid sleeping for a while - until you simply have to sleep, unconsciousness pulling you under involuntarily. 
Eventually the dreams morph into something better. Gentler and sweeter than the nightmares. They feel like memories more than anything - like tangible things you can reach out and touch if you try hard enough. 
A mechanical toy boat, chestnut hair ruffled beneath your fingers. Wide eyes with amber iris’s that stare up at you when you tell the little boy you’ll come back to play with him the next day. 
When you wake, the dreams dissolve along with your sleep, scattered and fragmented like leaves swept away with the wind. 
But you hold onto what you can remember.
Your childhood wasn’t something you tried to think about often, more bad memories than good ones. So you want desperately to hold onto the feeling of nostalgia these passing memories give you. 
The more you have the dreams, the more you start to remember the boy that appears in them. He never played with the other kids your age, but to be fair, neither did you. 
You stuck to yourself and your own devices. Until one day you saw him emerge from a little cave with a toy boat cradled in his arm, leaning heavily on his crutch as it struggled to take hold in the shifting sand of the river bank. 
You had approached him then, asking about his boat. And after some hesitation on his end he was happily showing you his invention, letting you run after it before returning it to him to do it all over again. 
And when the sun started to dip below the horizon, he gave you a weak smile. 
“Thanks for playing with me.” 
You nodded, smiling. “Can we do it again tomorrow?” 
He looked up at you then, surprise etched onto his boyish features. “Again?” 
You scrunch your nose. “Yeah? I can bring some of my toys. They aren’t as cool as yours though.” You shrug, looking back over your shoulder at the setting sun. 
“I have to go. So meet here tomorrow? After lunch?” 
The boy just nods mutely, mouth agape. You smile and wave at him as you turn to run back home. 
“See you tomorrow!” 
It's only when you approach your parents’ small apartment do you realize you never asked the boy his name. 
While you appreciate the more pleasant memories, you can’t help but be confused as to why they are coming to you now. 
It’s been years since you’ve thought about your childhood friend. The boy with the cane who loved to tinker and was determined to get out of the undercity to make real change. 
You huff and look down to where the Machine Herald is doing some tinkering of his own on your leg. 
It’s been several days since he turned off your sensory receptors and he’s been doing much more work than you anticipated. 
He glances up from the wires at your quiet outburst and raises a brow. 
“Does something hurt?” he asks. Ever since the mishap a few days ago, he’s always checking in. 
You shake your head. “No. Just…thinking.” 
You expect him to leave it at that, but he surprises you by inquiring further. 
“Anything in particular?” 
You pinch your lips together, not wanting to bore him with stories of your childhood. Especially when you can’t even remember it clearly. 
“Just about a dream I had. More of a memory, I guess. Of a friend from when I was younger.” 
This makes him pause. You assume he will respond, but instead he closes up the panel he was working on and sets his tools aside. 
“Would you like to try walking?” 
Well, that’s the end of that conversation obviously.
But the prospect of getting on your own two feet pushes away any curiosity as to his avoidant nature. 
You nod eagerly, pushing yourself to sit up straighter. “Walking? Yes, yes I want to try!” 
“Slow down.” His words come out harsh, like a parent scolding a child, and it stops you in your tracks. 
“I have to turn on the sensory receptors again,” he informs you, grabbing the tools he will need before reaching for the appropriate panel on your leg. “I cannot promise it won’t be painful. But you need to be able to feel in order to walk.” 
You swallow thickly at the thought, but push it away. You need to do this. 
“Okay. Can I let you know if it gets too much, or something?” 
He nods, eyes never leaving the task at hand as he swiftly reconnects the wire he had cut several days ago. 
“Of course.” 
The moment the two ends of the wire touch, a wave of sensation washes through your left side, down to the tips of your toes. You can feel everything again, including the dull ache of pain. 
You wait patiently for him to finish and set his tools aside before trying anything. He stands back a bit from the edge of the bed and gestures to you. 
“Try to stand.” 
He says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world. 
The look you send him is meant to be scathing, but it comes off as bewildered. 
“That’s it? You aren’t gonna help me?” You reach your hand out for emphasis. “That didn’t go too well last time, in case you forgot.” 
His brows pinch together in frustration. “That is because your leg was not ready. It wasn’t finished or calibrated or many other things.” 
He gestures towards your legs now. “It’s completed now. So, no. I will not be assisting you at first. I need to see what you are capable of on your own.” 
You huff, and sit up straighter, bracing yourself. “Fucking prick.” The words are grumbled under your breath, and you watch as the man stiffens out of the corner of your eye. 
“What was that?”
You shrug, biting back a smile. “Nothing. Just talking to myself.” 
You don’t miss the sigh that slips from beneath his mask. 
“Enough talking, more…walking.” 
You huff out a laugh. “The jokes again?” 
He doesn’t respond, just crosses his arms and looks at you expectantly. This time, you heave a sigh of your own, bracing your arms on the bed beside you as you sit up. 
The result of your last attempt makes your belly roil with nerves. What if this doesn’t work? What if it fails and you won’t be able to walk? 
These questions and more race through your mind, so you decide to start small. See if your leg will even listen to you. 
Focusing on trying to move your ankle and wiggle your toes, your eyes widen when it listens. The little metal toes move just like you thought they would, and your ankle too. 
Holy shit, this is weird. 
It’s almost effortless how well the limb moves and listens to you, as if it seamlessly connects to your biological nervous system. Which it most likely does.
Slowly, much slower than you’re sure the Machine Herald likes, you shift to move your legs over the side of the bed. Your bare foot touches the floor at the same time as your mechanical one, and you're immediately struck by what you can and can’t feel. 
The floor is cold against your flesh foot, making a shiver race up your spine. However, while you can feel the pressure of the floor against your metal appendage, there’s no temperature input. No hot or cold or tickling sensations. Just pressure. 
It’s odd. This whole thing is weird. You can hear the quiet whirring of mechanics coming from your leg and the shifting of metal plates at your ribs as you shift weight onto the leg for the first time. Everything adapts to adjust for this new movement. All of it stretches to accommodate the way you straighten as you stand, just like regular skin would. 
The single word is whispered reverently as you wobble slightly on your new leg, one hand falling back to the bed for support. 
You haven’t fallen yet though, and that sparks an eagerness in you that you probably should suppress. 
But you can’t. 
Quickly, much quicker than you should, you move to take a step forward with your left leg. While it works, and your leg obeys, the white hot pain that races up your side causes you to stumble. 
A sharp intake of breath is all the sound you manage to make before you topple forwards. You expect your hands to meet hard ground, but two arms wrap beneath your own, stopping your descent. 
This action sends another pain through you, like white lighting crackling through your veins. The sensation forces tears to your eyes, and you’re unable to stop them from spilling over. 
“Stop, stop, stop!” The words spill from your lips in a rush, your hands gripping his shoulders as he leans you back to rest against the bed. “It hurts.”
“I told you it would.” The mechanical voice is surprisingly gentle as he pulls away from you, eyes searching your face. 
You take deep heaving breaths, trying to quell the pain that now throbs all across your left side. “It feels like I’m falling apart,” you tell him, wiping at your tears. “It’s just…pulling at me.” 
He nods. “Unfortunately, this is common. Your body is not used to the new weight of a foreign body. You’re also still healing.” He pulls at the edge of your gown until the area where skin meets metal is revealed. 
The skin is puffed up and pink where it meshes with the metal plates, looking much angrier than it had a few days ago. The man before you runs cool metal fingers across the exposed skin, presumably searching for more damage. But the relief of cool metal against the heated skin makes you sigh. 
He pulls away then. As if he’d been burned, and avoids your eyes as he steps away from you, your gown falling back into place. 
Despite what he told you earlier, he does end up assisting you. You manage several, painful, but sturdy steps away from the bed before being ready to quit. 
However, he convinces you to continue if you are able to lean on him for help. Hesitantly, he approaches you on your right, wrapping a solid arm around your waist before leading you slowly around the room. 
You’ve barely made it through lap two and you are already drenched in sweat, strands of hair sticking to your face and neck. 
“Can this thing get wet?” You ask, swallowing the pain and trying to focus on conversation instead. 
The man beside you nods, adjusting his grip on you. “Of course. It would be very ineffective if it could not.” 
“Okay, cool. That’s good to know.” 
He glances down at you then, one brow raised. “Do you have plans to jump into a body of water that I need to know a about?” 
You bark out a laugh. A sound that comes out more pained than entertained. “I can barely walk, let alone swim.” You bite back a groan. “No. I want to take a bath. Or a shower, or something. I’m gross and sweaty, and have no clue when the last time I bathed was.” 
“Well,” he begins, turning you both back to head towards your bed. “Personal hygiene is important in this line of work. Preventing infections and keeping wound sites clean, so I can assure you that you have not been unclean this entire time-“ 
“So you saw me naked?” 
Your words cause his grip on you to falter, as he freezes in place. He stumbles over his words, searching for some way to respond to your brazen remark. 
Only your laughter soothes his stuttering. 
“I’m fucking with you.” You say, tugging at him so he will walk with you again. “I don’t care. You saved me, the last thing I care about is that.” 
The man beside you lets out an agitated sigh as you finally approach the bed, and he eases you to sit on the edge. 
“What?” You ask, eyes playful despite the pain. “You can make jokes but I can’t?” 
“My jokes aren’t crude.” 
You huff. “Yeah, well. You took me apart and put me back together again. Nothing’s off the table anymore, right?” 
He doesn’t offer a response, instead he turns towards the door, only glancing briefly at you over his shoulder. 
“I’ll have something prepared.” 
And then he’s gone.
It’s only after you finish dinner does he lead you towards the promised bath. Outside of the large room you’ve been in this whole time, you realize that it looks to be an old house.
 It doesn’t hold much in the way of creature comforts, and it looks as if it’s been redone to accommodate multiple people at once. You pass several rooms similar, if not a bit smaller, than the one you’ve been in. 
All of them are empty. Beds made neatly and tools organized on tables beside them. 
“Are you the only one here?” you ask as you pass another empty room, once again leaning against him for support as you walk down the hall. 
“You’re here.” 
You roll your eyes. “You know what I mean. There’s so many rooms, how do you manage if you have more than one person here?” 
“I have a few automatons. They help where they can. Delivering meals, changing IV drips. Menial things I do not have time for,” he tells you, slowing as you approach a door at the end of the hall. 
Brows furrow at his words. “I haven’t seen an automaton. Just you.” 
He pauses again. And you know by now that means you aren’t going to get a response. 
Instead, he turns the knob of the door and pushes it open, lending you into a room with a tub full of steaming water. There’s a small table sitting next to it with a bar of soap, a towel, and a fresh hospital gown. 
You’ve never seen a sight so welcome. 
“Oh, thank god.” You practically moan at the sight of the tub, breaking from the man’s grip once you’re close enough to lean against the edge. 
“Take as long as you need,” he says, before pointing to a small string dangling above the tub. “Pull this if you need assistance with anything.” 
“Help with what? Washing my hair? Because I do love it when someone else washes my hair,” you say, a teasing grin on your lips as you look over at him. 
You see him roll his eyes this time. “It is meant more for emergencies…”
That wasn’t a no, you think to yourself before waving him off. 
“I’ll pull the string if I start to drown,” you joke again, smiling when a small huff of laughter meets your ears. 
You hear his footsteps retreating and turn to call out to him before he can leave. 
“Hey!” Your voice echoes in the small room, and he glances over his shoulder at you. “Thank you.” 
He nods, and then leaves you to your own devices. 
You end up staying in the bath until the water turns cold, chill bumps raising on your arms. Once you towel off and slip the new gown over your head, you call out for him and he comes back in to help lead you back to your room. 
As he’s helping you back into bed, you finally voice the thoughts that have been plaguing your mind. 
“Why haven’t you used automatons with me?” Your voice is loud in the otherwise silent room, and you honestly expect to be left unanswered once more. 
But he surprises you. 
“I do not have any other patients.” 
Your eyes never leave him, his words not quite ringing as completely truthful. Instead of pushing that line of questioning you bring up another topic, one that is bothering you more than anything else. 
“You remind me of someone,” you blurt out. And for once the man adjusting your blankets doesn’t pause. 
“Oh?” The single word his hardly a response, but it is a response. And one that prompts you to continue. 
“I just…” You  trail off, unsure of how to voice the mess of jumbled up memories and thoughts in your brain. 
“My friend that I mentioned earlier. He was always determined to help people, it was why he…why he left. He wanted to help others, with no gain of his own. I don’t know.” You shake your head, eyes falling from the man beside you to the blanket under your fingers. “You’re the same in that way. Wanting to help people.” 
“What makes you think my help is entirely selfless?” The modulated voice is quizzical as he looks over to you. 
“You would have just let your automatons take care of me if you didn’t care,” you point out. “And I’ve heard the rumors. You hardly ever take payment for what you do.” 
He looks away from you again, and that’s enough to tell you that you’re correct. 
“What happened to your friend?” 
You're taken back by the question.
He hasn’t actually inquired about you since you woke up. Only asking questions about how you feel, your pain, and so on. 
But now…he seems genuinely interested. 
“He uhm…I don’t know, really,” you admit, your brain is trying to conjure up fuzzy memories. “He got accepted into the academy topside. I wrote letters to him for a while but he never responded so…I don’t know. I guess he’s still up there.” 
The memory of that, a memory you had apparently buried deep away, makes emotion well in your chest. So you clear your throat, avoiding the golden eyes boring into you. 
“Or maybe he’s dead. I haven’t seen any of the changes he talked about wanting to create down here, so…I don’t know.” 
It’s silent following your words, and you assume this is where the man beside you wordlessly leaves. But once again, to your surprise, he speaks. 
“Maybe you have not looked in the right places.” 
Confusion swarms your brain. “What?” 
You look over and see him shrug. 
“Maybe the change is right in front of you, and you just haven’t seen it.” 
What does that even mean?
You don’t get a chance to voice your question, because he must deem the conversation over. Something you’re silently grateful for. He turns to leave when you ask one last question. 
“What do you want me to call you?” you ask. “Machine Herald is kind of a mouthful.” 
He stops at the door, hand on the knob. It takes a moment longer for him to answer, and you yet again expect to not receive and answer. 
But he does answer you, and his voice is gentler than you’ve ever heard it. As if he's revealing a secret that no one else should hear. 
And when his response finally registers in your mind, it brings on more questions and memories than you’re prepared for. 
“My name is Viktor.”
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astudyincontrasts · 20 hours ago
Ok so my brain fog is real today bc awful pain but a friend and I were swapping Viktor headcanons one day specifically of musician!Viktor (and what else he could do with those hands 🤤) and now bass playing Viktor lives rent free in my head so do with that what you will if you feel so inclined. 😉 like idk maybe reader has been secretly watching him play at her favorite bar forever and has been pining….or it’s like a Judah/Princess Carolyn situation and reader has no idea he’s a musician on the side. ^_^
Here you go, Lyds!  I’m sorry it’s not terribly heavy on musical details, because while I love music I know precious damn little about making it.  
Just some sweet fluff, I decided to give reader a name bc I’m terribly tired of doing y/n stuff but it’s still reader perspective and limited name usage.
Musician!Viktor x Fem!Reader SFW
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It was getting to the point you couldn't afford this. Neither your stretched thin budget, nor your sleep-deprived schedule. Not even your liver, to be honest. But each week, three times a week, you somehow managed to find a way to pay the cover charge, afford the three drink minimum, and drag yourself from bed the next morning and back off to work.
It was worth it. Viktor played beautifully. But it wasn't just the music, it was him. That first night you caught one of his regular sets at the bar was purely accidental. It was your favorite spot and once or twice a month you'd stop in, treat yourself, or else swing by with friends. He'd sat down quietly on the tall lone stool in the small cleared space that acted as a makeshift stage near the far end of the bar and in the solitary bright light in the warm, dimly lit space, simply began to play.
It was like that each time. No conversation, no introduction or rambling or belabored explanations of who he was or what each song was about. He simply sat, began to play, and one by one the conversations would hush or lower, the whole place wrapped up for the two hour stretch of each of his sets. He only ever sang along to the last song, and played the same one each time to wrap the set. It wasn't a language you understood, and he sang quiet and low, but oh how it haunted. Raised goosebumps across your skin each time, left scalp tingling deliciously without fail.  Mouth parted and breath tight, practically shivering, melting.
It had become like a drug.
The only thing that absorbed your week, the one thing you looked forward to and it was draining your accounts and pressing your time... but you needed it. Craved it. You'd even found the perfect spot, the perfect seat in the house to watch him play, relax and not be bothered by any other single barflies that might be looking for someone to make conversation with or flirt with. And most importantly, you were fairly sure he couldn't see you. Perfectly camouflaged in the sea of ever changing faces and other regulars.
Janna forbid he ever start looking up from that bass and caught you sitting there, rapt, with what you were very certain was an incredibly stupefied look of lovesick adoration on your face.
You knew this was stupid, one sided, and ridiculously parasocial. To entertain such an enormous and painful crush on a boy you knew nothing about - simply because he played so beautifully, looked so lovely sat perched there on that stool with the bass balanced on one lean thigh. He was all long, slim limbs, sharp cheekbones and cut of jaw. Heavy brows that would knit in concentration over the complicated parts of songs or lift in unapologetic joy at the lilting melodies.
The warmer nights he's roll up sleeves to his elbows. Rid himself of his tie. And you could sit there, nursing a cool drink as you watched the little trickle of a bead of sweat trace its unhurried path down his forehead, down between brows to roll along his nose and hang shivering off the end of it before dropping away.
To say nothing of the ones that ran down alongside his ear, trickling along the perfect hook of his jaw down along the lean column of his throat only to disappear into the dip of his collarbone just visible in the part of his shirt. Oh, to be able to chase such lucky things; to catch salt on your tongue and taste of skin. To have them drip down upon you with him braced upon elbows above, those narrow hips fitted neatly between spread thighs.
It embarrassed you, how much you wanted him.
You'd never had such a silly crush before. Never let yourself get so wrapped up in anyone that they were all you could think about, that you couldn't sleep at night without indulging in at least one little fantasy of them. He was ruining you, stealing your sleep from staying up late to catch each set and then even more, every night, moans soft across the pillow, thighs shivering out tension with no one between them, nothing but your own fingertips and the cycle of fevered fantasy of his mouth, his hands, his tongue.
His voice in your ear.
It was one of these sticky hot summer nights, and it had already got off to a terrible start. Held late at work, crosstown traffic terrible, a long line at the door of the bar. Your favorite spot had been taken, and you weren't sure how you were going to afford the three drink minimum tonight. You'd skipped your morning coffee and head had throbbed half the day to thank you for the caffeine withdrawal. It was time to accept you simply couldn't keep this up. It wasn't healthy, it would never go anywhere, and what had begun as a delightful indulgence had instead begun to hurt.
Glaring cold jealousy at the unassuming people who'd managed to nab your favorite spot you instead took a seat at the bar and ordered the most refreshing drink they had; laced with thin sliced cucumber and botanical infused vodka, positively crammed with ice and sparkling with the effervescence of charged water. You toyed with the little yellow nasturtium flower that came perched on the top of it and sipped slowly. Very slowly.
“That looks delicious.”  
Already having suffered a frustrating day, sitting in simmering in anger over having your comfortable plans ruined, miserable over being ready to shake off this silly crush and preparing to face the inevitable discomfort of having to stop all this madness, ween yourself back to a normal life, all of it compounded by the aggravating heat, you felt your temper spike hot and sudden at the nerve of some random man moving in to flirt with you.  Rolled eyes to yourself and clenched jaw before the hand holding the little yellow flower hit the bar and your turned sharply to tell the owner of that voice to piss off.
Only to be met by a soft, fox-sly tilt pair of golden amber eyes under familiar dark brows.
And your heart stopped.  Stumbled, stutter-started and tried very hard to both climb up into your throat and simultaneously drop into the pit of your stomach, leaving you reeling.  And he smiled, cupid bow shape of his mouth canting ever so slightly higher at the edge that a little beauty mark graced.  That soft gaze of his strayed to your glass before it rose to catch the bartender, and he lifted a single elegant finger to order the same drink for himself.
Apparently undeterred by your awkward silent ogling about ten inches away from his face, he turned back to you with that warm look again.  Your body forgot it had legs, limbs, internal organs or anything more than the panicked hammering of that treacherous heart and hard static buzz of your brain short circuiting.  He nodded at the little flower you held.
“Did you know those are edible?  My grandmother used to grow them in a little box outside her windowsill.”
Your attention strayed to the small flower whose stem you were currently crushing between thumb and forefinger.  And then that vaporlock finally broke in your brain.  Let you breathe a soft laugh that thankfully did not sound as unhinged as you felt.
“You’re putting me on.”
The bartender delivered his drink and Viktor plucked the little flower in his up, stared you dead in the face, dare accepted, and popped it whole into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully as that smile grew and you watched him incredulously.  Just waiting for him to give up the game, spit it out sputtering and laugh at having his bluff called.  Instead he swallowed happily, the lovely rise of that adam’s apple in his throat moving enticingly against the open part of his collar - no tie tonight - and took a slow sip of his drink.
You eyed your little flower and lifted it slowly, paused to narrow gaze at him before you bit one petal off.  It was edible.  Peppery, like bitter lettuce with a finish like fresh scrubbed carrots.  You felt your brows shoot up and heard him laugh warmly as he leaned an elbow on the bar beside you and took another long sip of his drink.
“Yes!  Its... they’re good!”  You took another nibble and he held out his free hand.
“I’m Viktor.”
You struggled with the half eaten flower, petal still hanging partway out your mouth, and finally dropped the flower back into your drink, covered your mouth with one hand and offered him the other.  Real smooth.  Just killing it.
“Yef. Imf.  Ahem.  Haha... I uh, I know.  I’m Tasha.”  
“Tasha.”  He took your hand, kindly ignoring all the awkwardness, or else actually mindboggingly charmed by it, “I’ve seen you here before I think?”
Oh damn.  Oh fuck.  
As delicious as the gentle fold of his hand was around yours, you tried to slide yours away and hide embarrassment at being caught out by turning back to your drink.  Instead he caught the tips of your fingers and held tight.  Not crushing, just enough tension to stop you, to draw your hand back toward him.  Had you blinking surprise as your heart decided its new job was to turn as many summersaults as possible in your chest instead of pump blood, leaving you feeling a little lightheaded. 
“Do you like my music?”  It was almost shy, the way he asked it.  As if he had no idea how good he was.
“Janna, yes.”  You breathed earnestly, before you could stop yourself.  Earned a delighted and open expression of surprise from him and a mortifyingly hot blush that swept from your throat to cheeks.  So much redder and undoubtedly less attractive than the sweet pale pink dusting in the hollows of his cheeks.  
He toyed a callused thumb at your fingertips he still held, gaze focused on them.  Oh no, you’d embarrassed him as well as yourself.  Good going.
“I’m...” You both began at once.  And then just like that the lights cut off.  A collective groan went up from the entirety of the packed bar.  Left only with the dim illumination of  the flickering small candles in their votives scattered on table tops.  It happened regularly out here on the city limits, so close to the drop off toward Zaun.  During the sweltering days of summer they kept the rolling blackouts random and confined to the edges, siphoning power into the wealthier, glittering city center to keep their lights on and fans running.  Just letting everyone stuck out here know their place, and weren’t you terribly grateful to get what you were given?  Imagine how bad it was a block or two over and a half mile down.  
The bartender threw his rag angrily upon the bar and people began tossing back their drinks and rising to head out into the night to somewhere less packed and stifling and perhaps left with power or in possession of a generator.  Viktor seemed only a little chagrined as he released your hand and settled unhurriedly on the barstool beside you to savor his cool drink in the dim light.
“Ah well.  No set tonight.”  He cast you a sly little glance that had your heart sinking.  He had noticed you, and not just as a vaguely familiar face.  He knew.  “Sorry I won’t be able to play for you tonight.”
Something in the way he said it, though perhaps it was just you reading too much into the cadence of his soft clipped accent; misunderstanding emphasis placed on certain words.  But it sounded... gods, it sounded like he really meant he was sorry he couldn’t play for you - just you.  No.  That was your silly one sided crush talking.  Stamp that idea out right now.  Intense foolishness.  Get a grip, girl.
“I don’t suppose...”  He’d turned away a little bit, toward the bar, thumb toying against the condensation beading and dripping off his drink in a way that made you jealous of the glass.  “I don’t suppose you’d like to go for a walk?”
Do what now?  Yes.  Yes you would.  Walk wherever.  Ends of the earth?  Straight into hell?  Yes indeed, lets go.  You managed not to choke on a swallow of your drink and nodded before voice found you.
“Yes.”  Could you possibly manage anything more than monosyllabic answers, please?  “Yes, I’d love to.”
There, was that so hard?
He brightened, and half turned back toward you.  As if you were the one doing him a favor here and not the other way around.  
The sweltering evening passed in a delicious little blur.  The two of you slowly finding footing in conversation at the bar, unhurried as you finished your drinks before turning out onto the streets.  The wandering was aimless and pleasantly slow as you chatted away, stopped at a street vendor to buy a few kebabs of  that unidentifiable but sumptuously delicious meat that was so common here and in Zaun.  Dripping with sweet spicy, sticky sauce that had you licking your fingers and him rubbing a smudge away from the corner of your mouth as you both sat on a stranger’s stoop to eat.
A little while later there was a second vendor, selling sweet iced milks, cardamom and cinnamon spiced, sweetened with honey and poured over shaved ice.  Viktor insisted on treating, absolutely thrilled to find this vendor out and about tonight, explained how he usually missed them.  Readily apparent the incredibly lean boy had a surprisingly raging sweet tooth.  
The cane had also been a surprise.  You’d noticed the slight limp and the brace that ran up his leg but had never seen him take more than a few steps onto and off the makeshift clearing of a stage at the bar.  It had you concerned at first about wearing him out with the walk, but he set a comfortably easy pace and you didn’t mind the meandering at all.  Though you did notice when he began to flag.  It couldn’t have been easy, along with the weight of his bass slung across his back.  
“I... uhm... my place isn’t far.  If you want.  The power’s probably not on, but there’s a fire escape that usually has a nice breeze.  And the stuff in the icebox is probably still cool.  If you want to rest a bit.”  It all came out in a bit of a rush.  Had him stalling on the sidewalk as he leaned weight upon that cane a bit heavily.  Gaze inscrutable for a long moment that had you panicking that perhaps he thought you were making a clumsy move on him.  
And then a little rocking step brought him closer.  Close enough to get a little distracted by that second beauty mark under one golden eye and the scent of iced honey sweet on his breath.
“Alright.  Only if you promise once we get there you’ll let me kiss you.”  Those luminous eyes not on yours but trained lower, watching the shape of your mouth.  And you realized suddenly he’d been doing that all evening; attention flicking between eye contact and sliding away time and time again to watch you speak, eat... and now to catch your lower lip between the crush of teeth like you needed to hide it from that gently hungry gaze.
“W-what?”  You heard it practically squeak out of you.
“I’ve been trying to figure out how to all night.”  He admitted with remarkable honesty, catching you even more fully off guard.  “Please don’t invite me back to your place if...  if that’s not what you want.”
Like he was running out of patience with himself and unable to face it if all you were doing was humoring him, somehow just being kind and coolly friendly.
“You can... you can kiss me right now.”  Janna, it just came blurting out of you in a hot rush.  Stammered and eager and slightly choked.
Ah, how he smiled.  Slow and sweet before he rocked forward and caught your mouth.  Fingertips trailing little licking electric lines of tingling fire back in a sweep above your jaw before he hooked hand in a cradle and pulled you closer.
Soft little suckle of your lower lip started it all, pulled at it temptingly and you felt the tip of his tongue brush a little taste, just a little one, before teeth caught a tiny tug and then both your mouths were open and you were done for.  Hands reaching up to stroke along his throat, slide fingertips up into that soft mess of hair behind his ears.  He was terribly gentle for the way you could feel him practically trembling with want as you slid tongue a slow roll slick against his own, drew it into your mouth in invitation, small teases of licks leaving you breathless until you both had to break at last.  
Not that either of you wanted to - but the hooting cat calls of several passersby finally managed to penetrate the silent, muffled solitary universe the pair of you had descended into.  Viktor glanced after their retreating backs before turning back to you with a shy smile, letting his forehead come to rest against yours as he thumbed away the glistening wet he’d left along your lower lip.
“I’ve been trying to figure out how to do that for weeks.”  He admitted and it turned your world on its head.  Had you break down in a breathless little ragged laugh. 
“Me too.”
48 notes · View notes
gaybybirth · 7 months ago
a theory - pt two
Viktor x Fem!Reader (NSFW)
Arcane Masterlist
Synopsis: After leaving the lab, you have a few options. Go directly to bed, brainstorm ways to run into Viktor in the morning, or read his journal full of observations of you. The latter. You very easily settle on the latter.
Warnings: lots more sexual tension, dirty talk, reading Viktor's private observations of you, thigh riding
Word Count: 5.9k
A/N: I hope this part is up to par with part one. I didn't intend to make this a three-parter, but I thought it would flow smoother that way. Part three coming soon.
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Viktor had thoroughly consumed you by the time you got to your room. The kiss played on repeat, dragging you further down into the depths. How soft his lips were, how fast his heart was beating, how he’d stumbled to get your jacket off. He’d kissed you—that was stomach-flipping in its own right. That fact that he wanted more nearly made your knees give out.
I have a theory the self-righteous bastard had said, acting as if you were the only one who had a crush. Acting like he didn’t want you as much as you wanted him.
You turned the notebook over in your hands. Viktor’s private notes not just about observing you, but his own thoughts on the matter as well. His thoughts on you. On you wanting to kiss him. There was a momentary battle of morals as you deliberated reading it.
You settled on just a few pages as you climbed into bed. A little bedtime reading to get the mind ready for dreams. To unwind after such an eventful day. So you cracked it open, settled against your pillow, and let the tingling you’d been feeling since you’d kissed Viktor fully wash over you.
You chose at random, opening up to a page that’d been dogeared multiple times. It was dated a few months back, right after you’d attended a party with Jayce and Viktor. It’d been to discuss the advancement and the progress of Hextech and the Hexgates, but you’d tagged along as Jayce’s plus one. You’d gone for the food, to support Viktor and Jayce, and because there was the possibility to spend more time with Viktor. But that was just a whim of a reason. Or, at least that was what you’d told yourself when Viktor thanked you for going, standing there in a three-piece black suit, smile crooked. And that alone had made the night worth it. He wore a suit well. Although, you had a theory that the floor would wear it a lot better.
Viktor’s notes were in a rushed cursive.
She danced. Beautifully. Like the petals of a flower in a gentle breeze. Hypnotizing. And then she asked me—a rather silly question considering—but she did. Her pupils were dilated, like they always are when she looks at me. And the smile was genuine, I think. I’ve never seen it otherwise, so I must admit I don’t have anything to compare it to. When she wasn’t dancing or conversing with others, she was beside me. Talking, smiling, staying. A few others asked her to dance, she said no. At the end, I believe she was observing me the same way I was her. Although her lips were tinted a dark red, so I’m only theorizing why she may have been looking at mine.
Your cheeks felt hot. You’d hoped you’d been a tad less noticeable in your endeavor to get closer to Viktor. That your crush wasn’t that obvious. Or, at least, that he would’ve been too focused on literally any and everything else to have noticed. But he had. He’d noticed early on, too. It was only about an hour into the three-hour event when you’d asked him to dance.
You’d danced with four guys by that point, all out of politeness, all of which you’d wished was Viktor. He hadn’t noted it, but he had to have seen your stolen glances in his direction as you danced. If he’d been watching you, he had to have seen you watching him. But could you blame yourself? Viktor was an absolute sight in the suit. A sight you’d committed to memory as soon as you’d laid eyes on him.
And at the end, when the three of you had left, Jayce was borderline drunk, you were tipsy, and was Viktor sober. Jayce’s room was farther than yours, but with Jayce’s determination to lean on someone for support, you offered yourself up and helped Viktor deposit the man in his room. Jayce muttered thank you’s the entire way, reminding Viktor to be a gentleman and walk you to your room. It took a profuse amount of no, Viktor, it’s a ten-minute walk, and you still have to get back to your room; I’ll be fine to get him to agree. Even then, he still walked you to the stairwell.
He’d leaned in the doorway, foot propping the door open, head leaning against the thick wood as he peered down at you. In your tipsy haze, you remembered him looking like he wanted to say something more than goodnight, Ms. (Y/L/N), but that was all he said before he watched you leave. It was only when you rounded the stairs, out of sight, when you heard the door close below you.
“I wonder…” You thought aloud and touched your lips. Had he wanted to kiss you then? He had been looking down. Although, as he stated in his notes, your lips had been stained red for the evening. He could’ve been looking at that. There wasn’t anything inherently romantic about that notion in the book.
There was no hesitation, you realized, as you asked yourself: Would you have kissed him that night? Yes. You already knew you would’ve, with or without the alcohol. You would’ve gone back to his room the second you saw him. Hell, you’d go back to his room at any time. It wouldn’t have mattered when.
You touched your lips once more; they were still puffy from earlier. You wished he was there with you now, stretched out in your bed. It didn’t matter if he was beside you, atop you, or beneath you. All would work perfectly. You just wanted him there. You just wanted him, and if Jayce hadn’t come in earlier, you were sure you would’ve gotten him on the desk in the lab.
Your eyes fell closed at the thought. Of Viktor pushing your jacket off, then moving to your shirt, your pants, hands no doubt fumbling just as they had with your outerwear. His fingers would brush against you the same way they had with that damn corset prototype. Breath would be warm against your neck as you’d slip a hand between you and do what you’d desperately wanted to before had Jayce interrupted. You’d felt it between your legs and that minimal contact practically made Viktor hiss. You wanted to see how he’d react, hear the sounds he’d make when you ran your palm over him. Viktor wasn’t exactly the dating type. You had no idea how long it’d been for him, if he’d been as involuntarily celibate as you’d been.
The grip you had on the book tightened and the pages crinkled beneath it.
You absolutely couldn’t wait for tomorrow. Any excuse to see Viktor. Any excuse to continue talking about his...theory.
A quick glance at your clock told you it was time to go to bed, but your mind was running wild with all the potential outcomes of seeing Viktor in the morning. The good and the bad. Either you’d pick up where you left off—the most generous of the options—maybe you’d talk, maybe you’d pretend like it hadn’t happened. Was that the smarter option? Maintaining the friendship and not risking it because of a little crush. It made your heart sink into your stomach like lead.
“One more page,” you murmured as if you were reading a good book. You needed a distraction.
It was from today, in the kitchen.
She had flour in her hair. A look I think only she could make endearing. Her eyes locked on me as soon as I spoke, and I think she feigned annoyance. But only slightly. I was interrupting her work. She tried to shoo me, but I was determined to test my theory. Although she was very much preoccupied with the task at hand. Until I made an ill-worded joke about her baking. I must concede that, joking or not, I was wrong. The frosting was delicious. Although, I’m solidly sure that was mostly because of how she’d offered it to me.
I thought about testing my theory then. But I was shamefully enjoying watching her pretend to be annoyed with me. I understand why she comes to “bother” Jayce and me in the lab. I quite like the flicker of amusement that it sparks in her eyes. I had two more chances to test my theory after that. When her hand was in mine—her heartrate increased dramatically then—and when I reached out for the loose excuse to touch her and brushed a dusting of flour from her cheek. But it didn’t feel right. So I inquired about her coming by later with no more details than needing her assistance. I’m curious to see if she’ll come with just that.
I’m hoping she does. I’m rather confident in my theory.
You closed the journal and practically threw it onto your nightstand. He’d wanted to kiss you three times when you were in the kitchen. It was a bittersweet thought, knowing Viktor had wanted to kiss you and he hadn’t. That meant there were other times he’d wanted to. Other times where you were trying to remain calm and collected while he was contemplating what your mouth felt like against his.
You ran your hands over your face and rolled onto your side. Part of you would’ve been angry had you not been experiencing the same dilemma the last couple of months. But how could you be angry when you knew he’d been pining over you just as you had him?
A quick glance over your shoulder, eyeing the journal. It wouldn’t list it. You knew it wouldn’t. But the thought lingered: had he thought about you the same way you thought about him? Late at night, tired, lonely, pining. Wishing you were there beside him like you wished he was for you? Hands roaming, mouths tasting, moans mixing with whines. But all that would happen would be the former, and they’d be your own, moving across your body as you pretended they were his. On more than a few occasions, you’d muffled his name into your pillow.
Despite the ache between your legs, you clamped your eyes shut and chased sleep. If that need was going to be satiated, you wanted Viktor to be the one to do it.
It ended up being an incredibly, frustratingly long night. Driven even worse by the dream you’d had of Viktor, hands resting on your thighs, drawing slow circles on your bare skin. You were on his lap, nails digging into his legs, but his fingers never went higher. They never changed course. Just barely missed where you were aching for him to touch each time. You woke up when he whispered, “I have a theory.”
Five hours. Five painfully long hours before you were able to see Viktor. And even then, Jayce was by his side. Normally, that’d be fine. Hell, just last night you’d been hoping he’d been by Viktor’s side when you entered the lab. But, as you ran into them for an early lunch in the dining hall, you were mentally cursing Jayce.
Although it wasn’t much of a loss. It wasn’t exactly like you and Viktor could finish what you’d started outside the crowded room, to-go boxes in hand. Proving your own point, when you’d all stepped out with your respective boxes, you were rendered speechless for a few seconds too long before Jayce asked if everything was okay.
“Yeah, hey guys. Sorry. I didn’t get much sleep last night.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. But the exact reason you hadn’t been able to speak was because of the man next to Jayce. Hair combed out of his face, bright eyes that fixed on you immediately, and clothes that seemed to hug his lean frame perfectly. And then he had the gall to smile. It was shyer than the knowing smirks he’d given you yesterday. Somehow that made it worse. As did the faint dust of pink over his cheeks.
“We were going to eat in the dining hall, but it’s a little too loud today.” Jayce motioned towards the doors that barely muffled the incessant chatter. He nodded down at your box. “Wanna join us in the lab?”
You stole a glance at Viktor, shifting his weight onto his cane. You’d eaten with them before, in and out of the lab, but something about saying yes to this felt dangerous. Being back in the room where you and Viktor had been…testing his theory…it made more than just warmth pool between your legs.
“Sure,” you responded, knowing it wasn’t going to help dissipate that growing need.
But it meant you got to spend time with Viktor. And, as it happened, meant you got to sit next to him at one of the desks, the three of you crowding around one as you ate. They looked over notes, talked shop, and you chimed in on occasion. But your mind had been totally dedicated to the way Viktor’s knee touched yours beneath the table.
Minimal, yes, but the contact drew your attention like a magnet. Whatever Jayce and Viktor were talking about went in one ear and out the other; you were barely tasting the food. All your senses were on the tiny, warm dot of Viktor. And when Jayce turned around for a moment, eyes cast away from the table, Viktor stole a glance your way. One with eyes lit aflame in a way you thought he only reserved for discoveries and advancements. Never for someone else. Never for you.
Hesitantly, his hand dropped from the table, and you turned your gaze from him as Jayce turned back around. Just as Jayce continued speaking about who knows what—saying you weren’t listening was an understatement at this point—Viktor’s hand landed on your thigh. You thought you’d honed in on his knee. But that touch, especially with the fact that you’d decided to wear a skirt today, sent you up in flames. It brought your dream back in full force, and you, abruptly interrupting Jayce, excused yourself.
The feeling of sliding out from under Viktor’s hand was painful—it was the last thing you’d wanted to do. But it was unbearable, sitting there with him touching you. Not giving you enough. Fanning the flames that were very quickly running out of wood.
You nearly tripped over your own feet on the way out.
“I’ll be right back, excuse me.”
The bathroom was cold. Granted, anything would’ve felt cold when you were alone. Fuck the kiss. Before that, before he’d tested his theory, you could sit by Viktor. You could converse with him and Jayce like a normal sociable human. And now you were leaning against the bathroom sink, staring at your reflection, frowning as you tried to push away the addicting feeling of Viktor’s hand on your thigh. The dream of his fingers drawing circles up your thighs, not touching where you desperately wanted him to.
You cursed your skirt. You’d worn it with the anticipation of seeing Viktor when he was alone. Not when you had to sit there with Jayce and pretend you hadn’t felt Viktor’s lips against yours. Or his hands on your torso in a way that putting on a corset didn’t require. Corset. You met your own eyes in the mirror’s reflection. There was no way Viktor didn’t know his effect on you. That his hand on your thigh made you want to push his chair away from the table, straddle his lap, and kiss him until you consumed him.
You thought back to your bag. Two could play at that game.
Back inside, Jayce and Viktor glanced up at you with concern. You’d taken your time coming back, and made up a lame excuse about worried you hadn’t locked your dorm door. Viktor looked like he didn’t believe you—rightfully so—and Jayce took it at face value. Or, at least, he had the courtesy to let you think he believed you. When you sat back down, you poked at your food, pretending to be interested in it, letting enough time pass for Jayce and Viktor to finish their food and do what they usually did when they were okay with you hanging out in the lab: they just went back to work.
That’s when you made your move. You eyed Viktor as he and Jayce started working on something you couldn’t see, settled down into your chair, feet propped up on the chair Viktor had been sitting in, and pulled out his notebook. Whether Jayce would recognize it or not didn’t matter. It wouldn’t be the first time you found amusement in reading their notes. Sometimes you’d sit there and scrutinize Jayce’s perfect handwriting or Viktor’s rushed cursive. It took sixty-one seconds for Viktor to glance up from his workstation and see you flip through the pages.
The grip on his tightened until his knuckles went white and he raised his chin, narrowing his eyes like a threat. He opened his mouth, but whatever he was going to say was kept internally as you dove into the journal, and Jayce commented on a part not working with another. Still, you felt Viktor’s gaze a moment longer, and only once you were free of the weighty feel of it did you start attempting to read. And you knew exactly which one you wanted to dive into.
This one was dated a little over a month ago. The second line was nearly your undoing, but if you dwelled on it for too long, you'd combust. So you continued on.
She stopped by with snacks today, fruit. As sweet as I imagine she is. Jayce had left, so she stayed to help test the versatility and mobility of an armor prototype. Unnamed as of now. Jayce is unsure whether it will go beyond the prototype stage, however. Unimportant. She wore it for me. I feared I was overstepping boundaries—even with her shirt on beneath it, the garment was rather...revealing. Tight. And doing the straps required a fair amount of close contact. Her breathing was uneven, and I worried I’d done the corset up too tight. Until I noticed her dilated pupils and her nervousness. Almost uncharacteristic for her. She was avoiding eye contact more than usual. And this time, I know for certain she wasn’t looking at the freckle above my mouth.
Your heart dropped when you read the next line, the last line on the page.
It was a mistake, inviting her to stay.
You glanced up Viktor, who had his back turned to you now, and hoped to everything that there was more to the entry. There had to have been, especially with what had happened yesterday. You turned the page so slowly, you half expected Jayce to look up and wonder what the fuck you were doing. Neither of the men looked at you.
Your heart settled back comfortably in your chest when you saw more notes.
It was a mistake because I hadn’t wanted her to leave. The shirt she wore beneath the prototype was thin. I could feel the heat of her body with each—accidental, I might note—touch as I tightened the straps. And the way the garment hugged her frame in a way I feel is inappropriate to list in a journal I’m trying to maintain as professional as possible. If that can be possible, given my running theory.
Regardless of whether she wants to kiss me, I know I certainly would like to kiss her. A notion I must explore on my own. If my theory were to prove correct…
To think I’d be so lucky.
“And it was,” Viktor’s voice was in your ear and you jumped so hard the book nearly launched from your hands.
You collected yourself as rapidly as you could, holding back the yelp that wanted to escape, and glanced around the room. Jayce was nowhere to be seen, and when you leaned back, Viktor’s fingers grazed your shoulder. You purposefully didn’t face him. If you did, you’d only been an inch or two away from his face, and that would’ve been too much to handle. Instead, you clutched your chest and shook your head.
“What the fuck, Viktor.” You rolled your shoulders. “Scared the shit out of me.”
“What?” He pointed down at the second to last line. “I was merely commenting on my own notes. My theory was right after all.”
You thought about Viktor’s mouth on yours and tightened the grip on the book. You needed a subject change.
“Where’s Jayce?”
“Bathroom.” His mouth brushed against your ear and you fought hard not to melt against him. “Enjoying the read?”
“Quite,” you breathed out, a hint of mock annoyance sharpening the word. “Read a few entries before bed last night.”
That’s when you stole a glance at him. There was a heat that flickered in his eyes and it made your entire body tingle. You smiled sweetly.
“Before bed?” His voice was barely loud enough to be considered a whisper.
“Mmhmm.” You nodded and echoed his words. “Before bed.”
You purposefully peered down at his beauty mark above his mouth and then dipped lower, lingering long enough to get your point across. Viktor sucked in a sharp breath and you tried to add in as much sensuality to your voice as you could. Almost surreal feeling, as you met his gaze. Never once did you think you’d ever get to play a game like this with him outside of your dreams.
“Led to a rather restless night.”
“Did it?”
“Oh, yes.”
Viktor looked like how you imagined you looked when wearing the corset. Dilated pupils, uneven breathing, glancing down at what you knew wasn’t a beauty mark. Jayce’s footsteps could be heard outside the door, but Viktor didn’t pull away. Rather, he turned back to the start of the note. Jayce’s footsteps were getting closer and the bravery you’d felt moments ago was starting to slip away. If Jayce caught you two like this, there’d be questions. Ones you weren't ready to answer. Viktor pointed to the second line. As sweet as I imagine she is. His cheek brushed yours as he leaned towards you.
“As sweet as you tasted last night when we kissed,” his voice was barely audible, “that is not what I was thinking about when writing that.”
He stood abruptly, taking your breath with you, his hand dropping and swiping across your barely parted thighs. By the time your brain caught up with itself—heavily focused on the searing stripe his finger had left on your skin and the implication of his words—Viktor was back at his station and Jayce was entering the room. The inventor smiled at you and you tried your best to mimic the innocence he conveyed, completely unaware of what he'd just interrupted...yet again. But it was hard when you were sitting there thinking about Viktor’s words. About his mouth somewhere other than yours. Somewhere lower.
It took every ounce of self-control not to excuse yourself. It didn't help that when you shifted in your seat, you could feel just how much Viktor’s words affected you. Although, you could only sit with your thighs pressed together, ignoring the wetness between your legs for so long. You lasted fifteen more minutes before you said your goodbyes. But Viktor stopped you as you started to pack your bag. All he did was stretch out his arm and hold his hand out expectantly.
You peered down at the journal and frowned. Viktor nodded down at his hand and quirked a smile. Reluctantly, you handed the book over. And while you weren’t exactly an expert at reading lips, you could’ve sworn he’d mouthed good girl when you put the book in his hand. Trying your best to muster up the most unbothered, unaffected look possible when your mind was swimming so deep in the gutter that you were practically in the Undercity, you cleared your throat.
“If you need me, I’ll be studying in the library.”
To nobody’s surprise, you got very little studying done. If you’d been there with the sole purpose of thinking about Viktor, you would’ve accomplished your goal within the hour. But as you tried to divide your brainpower, thinking about Viktor—that is not what I was thinking about when writing that seemed to be etched permanently in your mind—and studying your academic notes and required texts, you were giving yourself a headache. The letters and numbers were blurring together, and for a second, you forgot you weren’t studying mathematics.
Two hours of studying later, an afternoon class you thought about skipping, and dinner at the dining hall later, you were trudging down the hallway towards the kitchen. You wanted to bake the endless thoughts away. Who would’ve thought one man would grind you down so hard without even touching you? The same man who was standing beside the stove, pouring freshly brewed coffee into a mug. He glanced over his shoulder when you shuffled through the doorway and reached for a second mug. He handed you the first before pouring the second.
The room felt like it had yesterday when he had come in while you were baking. Three sizes too small. Still, you chose to stand beside him, back against the counter, blowing aimlessly on the scorching liquid. You practically melted at the first sip. Viktor poured a bit of milk into his, stirred it, and returned to his spot leaning on the counter.
“Out of curiosity,” Viktor ran his fingers over the brim of his mug. “How many notes did you actually read?”
“Three, counting the one in the lab today.”
He hmmed and took a sip of his drink.
“Which ones?”
You used taking another drink to stall. They were his notes, so the embarrassment you felt shouldn’t have been so potent. But you couldn’t ignore the heat building on your cheeks.
“The night of the party where Jayce got drunk and the one you’d written after our...interaction...in here yesterday.” Your eyes fell on the stool Viktor had been sitting on yesterday. The urge to kiss him was growing stronger by the second. “And, of course, the one about the prototype. But you already know about that one.”
“I do.” He ran a hand through his hair and stole a glance at you. “I imagine the night would’ve been far more restless had you read that one last night.”
You locked eyes.
“We had to cut things short, Viktor, it would’ve been restless regardless.”
His eyes seemed to darken and his hold grew tense on his mug. Your teeth captured your bottom lip as you stared at him, trying to work through his unreadable expression. For a brief moment, you thought he was going to change his mind. Say that last night shouldn’t have happened. The thought made you stand up straighter. You dug your nails into your palm, waiting for the hammer to come down onto the nail, piercing your heart and making last night a distant, painful memory.
And then Viktor spoke.
“Please do not make me stand here any longer pretending I want to drink this coffee when I really want to kiss you.”
You blinked at him, processing the words. When they finally registered, when your brain caught up with what you were screaming internally, you sat your mug down and practically launched yourself at Viktor. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours, but you kissed him like you hadn’t seen him in weeks.
It was perfect.
His hands came to your waist with a bit more confidence than they had last night, steadying you as your mouth met his. You had no shame as you pressed your entire body against him, desperate to feel every inch of him. He tasted like coffee, and just like last night, he let you take the reigns, dragging him down to you, kissing him until it felt like your lips were bruised. He groaned, and you tangled your hands in his hair, gasping when his hands dipped lower and lower until he tapped the underside of your thighs. He barely had time to move the coffee cups before you hoisted yourself up onto the counter.
He was between your legs instantly. He got your jacket off faster than he had last night, breaking the kiss to trail his mouth along your jaw. He cradled your head as he moved down your neck, expertly nipping at your skin as he explored your neck. When he sucked on your sweet spot and earned a stifled moan from you, he paused, repeated the action, and grinned against you when you duplicated the sound.
The bastard. An inventor. A scientist. A man dedicated to his craft. He took notes on his interactions with you, noted the tiniest observations. He was going to treat you with the exact same regard. He was going to be just as dedicated, just as methodical, just as determined when it came to pleasing you. And it showed as he unbuttoned your shirt, paying particular attention to your clavicle when he dragged his teeth over it and your moan echoed out in the kitchen.
“Vik,” you stuttered out, wrapping your arms around him, clawing at his vest. It was meant to be a plea, but it only egged him on. Frustratingly, his hands had found a permanent home on your waist. “The door is still open.”
“Then,” he whispered as he brought his mouth to yours, “you better keep quiet lest you want someone to find us.”
You rolled your hips against the obvious hardness and Viktor’s groan rumbled in your ear.
“We,” he corrected. “We better remain quiet.”
His hands twitched before going back up to undo a few more buttons on your top. You, on the other hand, were far less patient. You wanted to do exactly what had been cut short last night, and Viktor nearly keeled over when you pressed your palm to him. He muttered a curse against your shoulder as you ran your hand up and down the bulge in his pants. He was hard, hot, and the tips of his fingers dug deliciously into your arms as he very clearly tried to maintain some sense of composure.
“What was that about staying quiet?” You asked as innocently as possible, dialing it up to ten knowing it’d drive him mad. And it did.
Viktor grabbed your wrist, harsh and tight, and jerked your hand from his erection.
“If you keep that up, I will not last much longer. And I would very much like to.”
The corner of your mouth twitched, fighting a smug grin. One that was quickly wiped away as Viktor jerked you to the edge of the counter. He pushed your legs open, and you expected him to go for the hem of your skirt next, maybe slide his hand between your legs, but he didn’t. Instead, he adjusted his left leg until you were settled both on top of that and the counter, and you gasped as it pressed between your legs.
His hands on your hips guided you, each roll satiating before worsening the pressure between your legs. He hummed happily in your ear.
“It’s a shame you only got to read those three entries.” You could barely hear him. He was a master at keeping his voice quiet. “I was starting to develop a second theory, based off the first. Started a few weeks ago, when you fell asleep on me in the lab. One of the few times I’ve been grateful for that couch.”
His words took a second to sink in as he kept guiding your hips along his thigh. It felt so damn good, you were starting to wholly lose yourself. Your brows pinched and Viktor flexed his thigh, and you reached around and tangled your hands in his hair, dragging your nails along his scalp.
Couch. Your eyes clamped shut. You’d been in the lab studying. Curled up on the couch that Jayce had requested since he and Viktor had been spending so much time in there lately. You’d been reading when Viktor sat down beside you with his own book. The couch was big enough to fit four people—it had to be with how tall he and Jayce were—yet the two of you occupied the center-most portion. Thighs touching, shoulders nudging, elbows bumping occasionally. And then, when your eyes suddenly grew heavy, instead of laying your head down on the armrest, you opted for Viktor’s shoulder. Which then, at some point after that, turned into his lap.
When you woke up an hour later, Viktor had stretched out beneath you, book open and resting on his chest, head on one of the throw pillows. One arm was hooked around you, the other was dangling off the couch, and one of his legs was in a very dangerous position: right between your legs. No matter how you tried to move, no matter how little you tried to adjust, his thigh pressed frustratingly wonderfully against you. And by the time Viktor stirred awake, you were flustered beyond belief. So embarrassed that you practically flung yourself off of him before he could put two and two together.
But as he guided your hips a little faster, it seemed that attempt was futile.
“I must admit, you’re a sight to behold when you’re flustered. A close second to this.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips and chuckled softly after a few seconds. “I’m hurt you’re not asking what my second theory is.”
“What happened to keeping quiet?” Your voice was obviously strained and Viktor smiled as he moved to your neck. You were getting close and for some reason, you didn’t want him to know.
“Ask me.”
“I should’ve kept palming you-”
“Ask me.”
You threw your head back partially in frustration, partially in pleasure.
“What’s your second theory, Viktor?”
He grinned wider and said nothing.
“Viktor.” You were growing impatient.
He laughed quietly, breath fanning out against your neck.
“I didn’t say I was going to tell you.” He stood back abruptly and ran a hand through his hair. Had you not had to catch yourself from falling off the counter, you would’ve thrown something at him. He took a few deep breaths, reached for his cane, and smoothed out his clothes. A faint blush tinged his cheeks, but his grin beamed brighter than it. “But the theory...it requires some assistance.”
You were seconds away from cursing him.
“Does it?” You snapped, and Viktor’s smile only grew.
“Come by my room later—midnight.”
You scoffed at him. “Really? And if I ask why, are you going to tell me to just show up?”
Viktor’s eyes shined as he ran his gaze over you. You felt like a piece of steel shoved into a forge as you stood there. Immoveable, burning, waiting to be absolutely pounded. If your knees weren’t weak, body recovering from the whiplash of being close to orgasm to standing feet away from the man causing it, you would’ve run back to him and kissed him until he took you on that counter. But then he turned and started towards the door, and you half expected him to leave your question unanswered.
Then his voice rang out in the vast room.
“Because I want to know if you’re as sweet as I imagine you are.”
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bexbaxx · 6 months ago
How would Viktor/Silco react to you playing with their hair? Love your writing btw ❤️
(I did post something similar here, but I wanted to expand more with this ask! Thank you so much!)
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• Viktor absolutely loves it when you play with his hair
• Sometimes he doesn't even realize you're doing it, like if he's reading or working on something, but when he does he gets the dorkiest grin on his face
• He most enjoys it when you're in bed together, half asleep
• It's also one of his weaknesses, so he knows when you're "innocently" playing with his hair randomly it's because you want something from him
• He's also very likely to give in to you
• If you mess with his hair out in public he gets a bit pouty, and will attempt to fix it himself before he realizes his hair cannot be tamed
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• Silco secretly adores when you play with his hair
• Outwardly, he might seem passive about it. He'd only let you do it in private
• If your hand even got close to his hair while out in public, he'd stare you down like you were his worst enemy
• After a long day of work especially, he really enjoys the intimacy
• He might reminisce, or just talk about his day while you do this. It's one of the rare opportunities he gets to relax
• You can give him a light massage as well, he'd absolutely bend to your will
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honeydazai · 4 months ago
hot things the Arcane characters do
feat.: Viktor, Jayce Talis, Silco, Vander, Vi, Jinx, Sevika, Ekko
warnings: suggestive, some nsfw mentions
requested?: yes!
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For some reason, VIKTOR simply loves to tease you. An amused smirk curls his lips upwards as you scoff, slightly embarrassed, after a mocking comment he made about you. He enjoys responding to you with rhetorical questions and taunts you with sentences like “Oh? What are you going to do about it, dear?” and “Ah, is that so? Prove it then”. You can't help but blush every single time.
While Viktor himself is quite intense, his gaze is even more so. It doesn't matter if you're sat directly in front of him or if you're across the room — the second your eyes meet, you're unable to look away. The heated eye contact has you squirming in your seat, a whimper nearly escaping your lips.
What gets you wet almost immediately, however, is the way he often rolls his sleeves up for practical reasons. The sight has you rubbing your thighs together subconsciously and you can only hope that Viktor doesn't notice the way you're staring.
“Correct me if I'm mistaken, dear, but I was under the impression that openly staring at someone was considered impolite. Ah, look at you, blushing this adorably — hm? Whatever do you mean, I should stop teasing you? Make me then.”
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JAYCE doesn't see any harm in expressing affection through physical contact, which is why it has become a habit of him to suddenly hug you from behind, strong arms wrapping around your body as his large frame towers over yours. His head is either resting on yours or, if he bends down a little and therefore unintentionally draws more attention to your height difference, laying on your shoulder, his warm breath against your neck making you tremble.
The sight of him loosening his tie with one hand has you staring unashamedly — well, or perhaps you're a little embarrassed, but there's no reason for him to look this good while doing it, with his head tilted back and his eyes closed.
Another thing that makes Jayce unfairly attractive is that he insists on carrying heavy bags and pushing doors open for you. The gestures are caring and gentlemanly in the best way — and that you get to watch his muscles flex whenever he takes a heavy box out of your hands is an added bonus.
“Oh, let me take that for you, babe. Don't want you hurting yourself, do we now? Oh, by the way, you look really pretty today.”
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You're not sure why, but the way SILCO sits in his office chair, all calculated calmness, and talks to his subordinates in a stern tone has you squeezing your thighs together more often than once. The way some of his goons are shaking in their boots, despite him not lifting a finger to threaten them, is just so effortlessly dominant that you're fighting the urge to drop to your knees right then and there.
Him smoking those cigars is a similar story — he simply looks unfairly handsome, pretty even, whenever he tilts his head back to breath out circles of smoke.
Each time his voice drops a few octaves lower, you can't help but tremble visibly, because, god, that tone just does something to you. Silco notices, because of course he does, and his condescending smirk has you whimpering.
“Are you quite alright there, dear? I tend to forget you're not used to the way I occasionally need to talk to my subordinates yet. Ah—, even though it doesn't seem like you minded it particularly much. Don't tell me this actually got you wet.”
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VANDER isn't trying to be hot when he wraps an arm around your waist while you're walking next to him, it simply feels natural for him to pull you close with his hand resting loosely on your hip, occasionally squeezing it a little.
Similarly, it's not on purpose that he randomly decides to praise you with a warm smile, even if it's only for something insignificant you've done. The words send a wave of arousal down your spine nonetheless.
If you're ever in any kind of dangerous situation, Vander is quick to shield your body with his own — which isn't difficult, given how much bigger he is than you. It shouldn't turn you on, it really shouldn't, but it's just so obvious how much he cares about you that your chest suddenly feels too tight.
“Ah, darl, I noticed you already cleaned up for me. Thank you, appreciate it. You're always such a good girl for me, can't believe I got this lucky.”
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Whether it's done subconsciously or on purpose, VI often flexes her arms a little, giving you a golden opportunity to see just how good her muscles look in this lighting. The sight has your cheeks flushing red, and if Vi notices why you're embarrassed, she only chuckles.
Ever one to tease, she likes to gently tilt your chin up to meet her gaze with her fingers, a smirk on her lips as you swallow visibly. The tension is thick enough to cut through, though Vi backs away a moment later, quietly laughing to herself.
Another thing she likes to do is wipe the sweat off her face with the shirt she's wearing, especially after she just finished working out, and the glimpse you get of her abs is simply heavenly.
“Hey, doll, ya should gawk at me a little less obviously. I was worried you're gonna start drooling.”
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JINX often has some residue of paint or soot on her face and, once you tell her just that, she uses the back of her hand to wipe it off, which usually only results in it smudging more. You're unsure why, but the sight of her looking all messy, perhaps with bright colours on random spots of her hands and face, has you absolutely enamoured with her, your cheeks feeling hot. She often raises an eyebrow when you point the paint out, and a second later, you're covered in the same colours.
Since she enjoys messing with you, she likes to randomly appear behind you and whisper into your ear — no matter if it's a teasing pet name or something truly dirty, you flinch and tremble every time. Her warm breath against your ear is entirely enough to do that.
After sitting bent over a new invention for hours, Jinx likes to stretch excessively, her arms raised above her head and back bent until you're able to see her hip bones peak out from beneath her trousers. You can't help it as not entirely pure thoughts pop up in your head.
“Hey, sugar, wanna make out? Oops, did I scare you? Didn't mean to. Or, well, maybe I did. Whatever. Come on, entertain me, I'm growing bored over here.”
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SEVIKA's whole aura has you willing to drop to your knees in an instant; the way she carries herself is simply oozing confidence and dominance. You immediately feel safe when you're with her because, honestly, who'd willingly dare to go up against Sevika?
She also makes you sit on her lap a lot, even in public, and, god, the action has your cheeks flushing red, especially when the guys she's currently playing cards against stare at you with curiosity. One of Sevika's hands rests on your hip, occasionally moving down to squeeze your upper thigh, and you can only hope no one notices the way you're grinding your hips against hers.
Whenever Sevika pins you to a wall, her face close to yours and a teasing smirk on her lips, your knees suddenly feel a lot weaker than a moment ago.
“Damn, you're blushing. What, are you embarrassed? Why? 'cause of these guys? They're only staring because they too want a piece of you.”
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EKKO likes to sit with his arms crossed behind his head, and you're honestly not sure if he knows just how much the position shows his toned biceps off, but by the way your eyes are basically glued to his arms, he has to be aware of what he's doing.
He's pretty protective of you, given how he couldn't possibly bear to lose you, and your cheeks flush a little every time he steps in front of you and defends you against a stranger, no matter if the conflict is a verbal or a physical one.
Another thing that leaves you gasping for breath whenever he does is the way he often pushes his hair back with one hand, his eyes closing, lashes fluttering against his cheeks, and his head tilted back to reveal the expanse of his throat. It's so effortlessly attractive that you can't help but gawk at him.
“Hey, babe, what's happening here? This guy bothering you? I'll take care of it, don't worry. Go ahead already, yeah? I'll catch up to you.”
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notes: viktor with rolled up sleeves viktor with rolled up sleeves i repeat viktor with ro
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silence-burns · 6 months ago
Viktor: asking you out
Fandom: Arcane 
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Viktor was fully aware that the longer he waited with asking you out, the harder it would get. He thought about it multiple times already, tried to find the most fitting words, predict your answer, prepare for the possible rejection and yet - he was still nervous. 
His hands would shake more than usual whenever his mind circled back to what he wanted to do. He'd known you for so long it felt like a lifetime, and by then the lab never felt the same without you somewhere close. He was (almost) sure that the feelings he had for you were mutual. 
So why was it so difficult to just open his mouth and ask?
Jayce would notice his distress and (if you weren't around to hear them) offer to help. Viktor was pretty sure that getting a wingman would make the whole ordeal even more embarrassing than it already felt. Besides, he wanted to make that move himself. He owed it to you.
Viktor would wait until there were only the two of you in a room (Jayce would wink at him before slipping out with some half-assed excuse) before clearing his throat to pick your attention. 
It worked. And he forgot what to say.
With your eyes on him and that soft smile playing on your lips, all the polished words Viktor had prepared went into the void. For a moment that felt like an eternity, he'd just stare at you, desperately trying to remember how to speak. 
He'd stutter and it would take him a few tries to ask the question right. His hands were ice cold when he waited for your reaction. He has never been more grateful for his cane - it made his panicked grip look almost natural, even with his knuckles gone completely white. 
Viktor would be so relieved once you agreed that he'd sway on his legs. He's never felt so happy, despite his throat drying out and his heart skipping a few beats in his chest. 
You'd opted for a walk, which sounded like a good idea in the middle of the day, and more like a rookie mistake once it got dark, cold and slippery. The thin rain that fell during the day turned into a slippery mess once the temperature dropped. Viktor didn't expect that.
What he also didn't expect was your arm sneaking its way around his and securing him on the side where he didn't use his cane. 
You were warm. Or maybe it was hus rapidly beating heart that made him feel like boiling.
You were close enough to secure him whenever Viktor lost his footing. It made the whole walk much more pleasant than Viktor had anticipated. For once he didn't mind the length of the bridges or the uneven stones of the walkways. 
Deep in the conversation, Viktor didn't even realize how fast the time had passed and he almost regretted not taking an even longer path. 
His regrets melted away pretty quickly when you wished him a goodnight with a peck on his cheek and a promise of more walks in the future.
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daphnedirose · 5 months ago
Just Call My Name
Viktor x gn!reader | NSFW +18 | wc: 2.2k| After an exhausting day and a glass of wine, Viktor decides to relieve himself to the thought of you.
A/N: I BLAME @arcanescribbles FOR THIS BECAUSE IT'S INSPIRED BY THEIR ART (aka the fucking masterpiece below... and all of their paintings). Anyway, enjoy in horny jail <3
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The door closed behind Viktor as he leaned back against it, a heavy sigh leaving his lips, exhausted. It was a tiring day and the lack of sleep he gathered throughout the entire week wasn't helping much, but he knew he couldn't pull another all-nighter in the lab if he wanted his brain to function properly.
He didn't bother turning the apartment's lights on and went straight to the kitchen, guided by the faint silver moonlight that slipped through the windows of the place. Initially, he intended to pour a mug of sweet milk and lay in bed soon after, hoping to get the proper sleep his body so desperately needed; even if he knew all hopes would be useless. He might be tired but, when trying to rest, his body opposed his wishes as his mind began scheming ideas of possible inventions or uses for the Hextech Gemstones. However, he remembered he kept a fancy bottle of wine you once gifted him inside the kitchen's drawers.
"I know you don't drink, but maybe a glass can help you sleep better." Was what you told him after giving him the bottle, a kind expectant smile on your face as you did.
Viktor chuckled before opening the drawer where he had it hidden, taking it out along with a glass to pour it in. He didn't drink much, you were correct, but he had nothing to lose by trying just once. In the worst-case scenario, it'll be another sleepless night for him.
He stepped into the living room, glass in hand, and laid his body down on the large couch next to the window, resting his head on one of the comfortable armrests it had. He held the glass of red wine —filled more than it should have been— before his eyes, which were adorned with a curious look before taking a generous sip of the drink. Both its scent and taste were not as strong as others he had drunk before, it was rather sweet, addictive once given a taste of. For some reason, it reminded him of you, especially the aura you projected in the lab today while working on the blueprints for the Hexclaw: that concentrated gaze focused on the papers, eyes glowing by the thoughts that flowed inside your mind as you wrote them down, biting your lower lip until it blushed as red as the wine...
No, his mind was wandering again on thoughts that shouldn't be keeping him awake. He chugged down the remaining wine before he could regret it, expecting the dizzy effect to strike him soon due to his lightweight persona. He moved a little on the couch, but the friction between the furniture and the tightness of his attire wasn't very pleasant, resulting in him undoing his tie, which fell discreetly to the floor before unbuttoning both his vest and shirt. He took off the vest and it soon accompanied the tie, but he felt adequate to leave his red shirt on, completely opened and exposing his chest to the cool air that filled the room, giving him subtle goosebumps but adjusting quickly to the room's temperature.
He was doubtful about unzipping his pants, but who cared anyway? He was at his place, alone, and it's not like anyone could see easily through the windows. His hands reached for the zipper and lowered it open. His body felt lighter, freed from the pressure from the clothing, and maybe it was the wine acting, but he felt more relieved than he should have now that clothes were off.
The couch was cozy and soft enough for one to fall asleep on, but once again his mind turned its back on him when he tried to fulfill the task. His eyes became stuck looking at the ceiling as his thoughts began to wander again: The Atlas Gauntlets' blueprints he and Jayce were working on, the number of miscalculations that he could possibly find on them tomorrow morning, the Hexclaw you were working on... He closed his eyes shut as he placed the back of his hand on his forehead, trying somehow to cover his thoughts.
Maybe it was the lack of sleep that made him so distracted and lazy-minded today. Even when he tried to focus on his blueprints and prototypes, he couldn't help but look your way while you were working: so concentrated and passionate about what you were doing, a crooked smile appearing on your face when your calculations were correct; Viktor was observant even when he didn't mean to, so he couldn't help but admire the way your hands gracefully worked on the prototype, so meticulously and delicate at the same time. For a second, he wondered how the touch of your fingers would feel like against his skin: probably soft, tender.
He felt his cheeks starting to burn, and a warm feeling began to take over his body. It's probably the wine, he told himself. However, unconsciously, his fingertips began to travel slowly down his neck to his chest, leaving a tingling sensation behind every brushing movement on his skin. It's the wine, it must be. But it didn't matter, not when the fingers tracing his body weren't his anymore.
His eyes closed dizzily, remembering what else happened a few hours ago.
He recalls how his heart almost dropped to the floor when you caught him staring at you mesmerized. Those siren-like eyes he so much adored were finally staring at him, but he didn't decide whether it was a perk or a disadvantage; if there was something Viktor loved about you it was your eyes, even when he felt you could see right through him. You stood up and went over to his desk, hands in your pockets as you walked like you owned the place, forcing him to quickly turn back to the blueprints, although his lost expression gave him away.
"Need any help, Vik?" You asked him, your velvety voice messing up with any possible coherent thought he had formed before.
"Ehm, well-"
His body tensed up when he felt your hands softly being placed over his shoulders, squeezing softly before your body leaned over one of them to peek at the blueprints. If he was tense before, he was now completely stiff. Your face was right next to him, close enough to notice the scent of your perfume: a freshly sweet scent he became fond of long ago.
"Seems like you're struggling, Professor." You mocked him playfully like you usually did since he told you he sometimes substituted for Heimerdinger, unaware of the effect that simple word caused on him.
There, on the couch, Viktor could still feel how the word left your mouth so assertively, giving him a false sense of dominance when you were the one holding the ropes. The tone of your voice, softer and lower specifically to tease him. Fuck. The hand that rested on his forehead began to softly play with his hair as you sometimes did to him when bored, while the fingers that danced on his chest continued their way lower, dangerously close to the waistband from his underwear as his mind continued remembering, too lost in thoughts to mind a certain pressure on his lower half.
You grabbed the pencil he was holding and began correcting the blueprints over his shoulder, close enough for him to notice the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his back. Why were you so calm when he was nervous by your proximity? He looked at your face through the corner of his eye once again, and there you were, softly biting your lower lip as you amended some of the most noticeable mistakes written in the papers.
What would it feel like to kiss you?
When you finished with the blueprint, you gave Viktor back the pencil with a victorious smile glowing on your face. "Call my name if you need me, Vik." And with that, you returned to your desk, while his eyes couldn't stop looking at you for a few more seconds.
His lips started tingling but he couldn't blame the wine anymore, not when those memories already caused a reaction that left his entire body burning. His hand stopped playing with his hair and his fingertips softly brushed his lips, which fancied to touch yours for longer than he could tell. He had no doubt your lips would taste sweeter than the wine he just drank, starting pressing them against his while your hands clenched to his hair, wanting him closer and closer as seconds flew by. You'd probably drag your fingertips down the sides of his neck, he could even picture the cocky smile appearing on your face when you notice his neck was one of his weak spots, right before leaving open mouth kisses as the warmth of your tongue clouded his mind and made him tilt his head to the side, sighs escaping his lips while your lips and teeth left marks that claimed him yours.
It was useless to keep those thoughts away, so he decided to take care of the growing erection that hardened in his underwear, taking it out and softly wrapping his right hand around the tip that was already dripping wet, beginning a calm up and down motion as his head rested back on the armrest, making his sharp Adam's apple stand out, an unconscious lazy grin matching his blushing cheeks as his mind was messed up with thoughts of you.
He imagined you on top of him, sitting on his lap, the moonlight contrasting on your skin while those siren eyes would be focused on him, and only him. He could feel the delicious heat of your body against his, both naked, vulnerable to each other's touch. His hands would trace a path from your back to your waist, taking the necessary time to enjoy your feathery skin against his palms, feeling and hearing you react to his caresses. The thought of your voice, which often came out in a justified confident tone, melted into faint moans as he kissed the crook of your neck, enjoying your intoxicating scent mixed with sweat and desire made him hasten the pace his hand marked on his dick.
Call my name if you need me, Vik.
"Y/n..." Your name left his lips coated in needy delight, picturing the hand that jerked him off belonged to you.
Oh, how your touch would feel on his dick. You'd love to torture him by slowing down your pace when you perceived his orgasm coming close, probably a sarcastic comment would come out of your mouth that included the word Professor in it, followed by pure praise and worship as you rubbed your hips against his length, driving him to the edge as another kiss was placed on his lips.
Viktor's groans and heavy panting filled the room, calling your name as he drowned in the pleasure your image provided him. Some locks of messy hair that fell on his forehead were coated in a thin layer of sweat, so he lazily pulled them back, noticing the rest of his hair was damp as well. A husky chuckle peeked out in between whimpers, he couldn't believe the effect you had over him even when you weren't in the room.
But damn he wished you were.
He was a mess, the unbuttoned red shirt all wrinkled by his moves, drenched in sweat just as the rest of his body was. Burning hot body and flustered red cheeks, but the lazy dreamy smile never left his face while his hand continued to please him along with his undeniable hunger for your taste. He was close, he knew, but he wasn't letting his fantasies fade away so quickly. If that's how he was when lost to desire, what would you look like while the same burning passion flowed through your body? Blushed red cheeks as you moved your hips on his lap, looking for the contact he was denying you but longing to give you...
Just the ghost sound of your voice moaning his name in desperation turned him on completely. You, his assertive and brilliant lab partner all lost in sensation because of him and his touch, your grip slipping from the control you were used to having and begging him to fuck you, those siren eyes barely opening to stare at him: a lustful masterpiece he was the only beholder of. He'd slide inside you with ease and he almost came to the thought of your walls tightening against him. You'd tried to take control back ridding him, rocking your hips masterfully on top of him while he was hypnotized by the view of your every move, bouncing faster on his cock as your orgasm formed inside. He'd help you, of course, thrusting right in your sweet spot while letting you lead the way. His hand couldn't compare to you, nothing could.
Picturing you moaning his name before coming undone on top of him was enough to cause the same effect on him, bitting a bit harshly his lower lip as the divine dreams of you made him cum on his hand. He tried to even his breathing, but how could he? His mind just gave him the most pleasing images he never felt able to fantasize about until now, leaving him yearning for you, all of you, every part of you being marked by a path of his kisses. Being his completely.
A soft laughter left his lips as a satisfactory smile appeared on them. Fuck, he had no clue how he was gonna face you tomorrow, but all he knew was that, for the first time in weeks, he'd be able to get some proper sleep.
Taglist: @scorpio-echo @hpapyrus @senha-fraca @helloyellowsheeps
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viktorshands · 4 months ago
Soft Viktor Headcanons
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𝓗𝓲𝓼 𝓮𝔂𝓮𝓼
Viktor has the most perfect, luminous, golden eyes. They are like honey, pools of sweetness.
His gaze is always sincere, with curious intent. He loves to watch every move you make and takes mental notes of your cute expressions.
His eyes capture you in an instant. You’re unable to break eye contact and he simply won’t look away either. 
He closes his eyes when he kisses you. (The only downside to kissing him - not being able to stare into those eyes for a time.)
𝓢𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪 𝓫𝓮𝓭 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓱𝓲𝓶
Providing that Viktor doesn’t sleep in the lab, his favorite place is next to you in your bed.
He is a relatively cold person (think cold fingers and toes 24/7) so he likes to have lots of blankets.
He’s either a side or a stomach sleeper, and absolutely has to be covered with blankets. No exposed limbs or feet - ever.    
If you’re a light sleeper and he gets back late from the lab, you’ll wake up the second he walks in the door - much to his dismay because he would do his absolute best not to wake you.
However, he would do his best to quickly soothe you back to sleep with soft kisses to your nose and forehead.
If sleep was still eluding you at this point, Viktor would wrap you in his arms and pull you close to cuddle you until the two of you quickly fall asleep together.
If you’re a heavy sleeper he would want to gently wake you, but not too much, with soft pecks of his lips on your face. Not enough to wake you, just enough so you know he is there.
You spooning him would just make him feel so at peace. He would drift off to sleep quickly and rest so soundly for the entire night. (You cannot tell me this man doesn’t love being spooned. He is touch starved just like all of us.)
If he was spooning you though, he would trail his hand over your exposed skin on your neck, moving down your arm and your side, eventually finding your thigh to give you a squeeze. 
He loves when you play with his hair. Running your fingers through it, gentle scratches on his scalp, he instantly melts. He lets out soft little sounds of content.
He likes to hug his pillow when you’re not there - although even the softest of pillows could never replace you.
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cammys-imagines24 · 5 months ago
• NSFW Viktor Headcanons •
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It took Viktor a long time to be comfortable enough being intimate with you.
The scientist being self conscious about his braces, cane and limp, how he isn't as strong as other lovers you could have.
He couldn't ever be the "sweep you off your feet" type of man and that made him feel tentative to go all the way.
He didnt want to disappoint you since he's never viewed himself as particularly dashing.
Viktor views his one asset as his brain, since his ailing body has failed him in so many ways.
He was already seen as a cripple and so he didn't want to undress in front of you, bare his body and soul and for you to only see him as a lanky, debilitated underdog as well.
It took a long time of you reassuring him that you did find him incredibly handsome and it took even longer for him to actually believe you.
But, once this science boy with the sexy accent did finally trust in your genuine attraction towards him...
Then, oh boy, good luck getting his hands off you.
This man is severely touch starved and has longed for a partner to be intimate with for so many years.
And, now that Viktor finally has you then you're going to quickly become the best scientific experiment ever to him.
He will devote so much time to figuring out all the ways he can please you, what types of moans he can elicit from your pretty mouth and how often he can make you scream his name...
Not a fan of quickies. Though Viktor is often busy, he would rather sit in agonizing frustration and wait for the time where he can savor your body properly.
Same reason why he doesn't jerk off. He wasn't a very sexual person before he met you, so why would he wish to take care of his own problem when later he could have the luxury of you doing it for him?
Though Viktor does get hard because of you, a lot. To the point where it becomes problematic.
He could be knee deep in his work, consumed with taking notes but just the arrant thought of you is enough to stop him dead in his tracks.
Be it fantasizing about your lips or how your voice sounded the night prior or when his fingers absently touch the hickey you previously left upon his neck...
He will need a moment to calm down and compose himself.
The most meticulous lover you could ask for. Intent on slow, passionate ministrations that send you into pleasured ecstasy every single time.
He's either a soft dom who praises you, how wet you are for him, how your body makes him feel, how turned on you make him...
Or, a complete sub who loves when you take control. Who whimpers and moans and is so, so needy for you. Who'd let you do anything to him.
Viktor is all about body worship. Your form, your curves, everything about you is like his religion.
If you ever call him "Professor" or "Sir" get ready for a long night. It's definitely one of the easiest ways to turn him on instantly.
Viktor is very big on you pulling at his wispy fawn brown hair when in the moment, the action always elicits shaky whines from him.
He gets so desperate whenever you tease him. You don't even have to do much to make him go absolutely crazy.
Compliment him on his work, run your fingers through his brunette tresses, kiss the beauty marks upon his sculpted face...
Anytime you show him your love, appreciation or how your body reacts to his and he is a goner.
Just imagine that sexy accent of his when he is begging you to touch him, to help him relieve himself, to give him his much needed release...
Will appreciate it more than you know whenever you are happy to go down on him.
He'll never ask you to do it but when you initiate it, he is overcome with love and lust.
"You take me so well, my printsessa. Thank you..."
Often it hurts to have sex in the usual positions, especially when he is on top of you.
So, Viktor is elated whenever you go down on him, he can eat you out or you ride him.
He loves to eat you out. Your taste on his tongue is like an intoxicating delicacy to him.
Viktor rather enjoys the fact that many times he doesn't even need to use what's in his pants to make you come absolutely undone.
Often he'll be more than happy to spend the whole night between your legs, tasting and teasing you; a pillow beneath his bad knee is all he needs.
Despite Viktor's sickly physique, he can go multiple rounds, simply because of how much you excite him.
You know how determined Viktor gets in the lab right? How obsessive he can almost be when figuring out a problem? Well, he is exactly like that when it comes to doing everything he can to bring you pleasure.
He gets tunnel vision in the heat of the moment, with a fervant desire to make you shake, near hyperventilate and see stars.
Very big on aftercare.
Chances are if you're sore, then he is too but doubly so because of his disabilities.
Viktor is so soft and gentle after sex and most times you will take a relaxing, warm bath together before finally going to sleep.
Though while you're quick to doze off, he'll stay awake for a bit.
Sometimes he'll read a book or look over his journal with you snuggly wrapped in his arms.
But, most times, he'll just admire you.
Viktor appreciates you more than you could ever know and the intimacy shared between you two.
He's never had someone to do this with, who he can pleasure and in return who pleasures him back.
It takes a while for sleep to finally take him simply because he is still riding the high of your physical love.
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coffee-with-bucky · 5 months ago
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Summary: Unnamed and undefined, you don’t know where your relationship with Viktor stands. But, when you mention that Viktor’s moles are signs of where his past lover would kiss him in his past life, you two slowly push your relationship across that threshold and put an official description.
Pairing: Viktor x Reader
Words: 1.6K
Genre: Fluff
GIF Credit: @solidago-sempervirens​
A/N: I’m so down bad for Viktor lmao. Anyways, I had fun writing this! (Reader is kept gender-neutral)
To others, the glances were mere looks – nothing more.
But deep down in your heart, you knew what they meant. And Viktor knew just as well.
There was no label as to what this was.
Friendship? It was much more.
A romantic relationship? No official stamp of approval. It was in limbo.
But what you did know was the connection that you and Viktor forged was unspoken. Fleeting glimpses with glints in his golden eyes, which practically glowed when the sun’s rays hit them.
It was when no one was looking – the lightest of touches upon the tips of fingertips brushing across hands and arms. Sometimes your hands would find themselves trailing up to his shoulder, a gentle squeeze that you swore made all the tension in Viktor’s body dissolve. 
You treaded on a fine line – your hands itched to drift higher, wanting to linger on the sides of his neck, maybe even place a kiss where his pulse point laid.
And that was the bigger issue – you wanted to kiss him. Kiss every inch of skin he would allow. Those sharp cheekbones, his forehead where those baby hairs rested, those lips that spoke of scientific theories and ideas of hextech inventions, but more notably, the two moles that speckled his skin.
One under his right eye, the other above the corner of his left lip. You found yourself gazing at those moles almost as much as admiring his stunning eyes. A desire to kiss those moles consumed your thoughts to the point where you would get so distracted –
“…Hello? Eh, are you still with me, duck?”
Brought back to reality, the handle of Viktor’s cane waved in front of your face. Viktor smirked as you blinked, heat rising to your cheeks. You were supposed to be listening to Viktor’s explanation of the new hexgates that were in development since you asked him.
Well, half of that was true. You did want to learn about the hexgates but, it was also an excuse to spend more time with him and temporarily ditch your duties as Heimerdinger’s assistant. It was a slow day and you had justified to yourself that you could slack off for one day.
You narrowed your eyes at him, sitting up straighter in your stool, “Will you stop calling me that?”
Viktor laughed, an almost baritone quality blended into his tone, “Never.”
“Why do you call me that again? You could have given me a cuter nickname instead, you know, like dove.” You huffed.
Viktor leaned forward from his stool with a gleam in his eye, “It’s only because you pout like a duck.” As your brows furrowed, you intuitively pouted your lips, “See!”
Crossing your arms, you stuck your tongue out at him.
Viktor playfully rolled his eyes, “You never cease to amuse me, my duck.”
A bashful grin laced your face. As much as you pretended to be annoyed at Viktor’s nickname for you, it secretly made your heart race.
“Besides, a duck is cute. Therefore, a cute nickname… For a cute individual.”
You swore your heart was going to combust inside your chest.
“Now about your attention span…” Viktor hummed. Holding the middle of his cane, he softly tapped the handle of his cane to your forehead.
A gentle bonk.
“It appears something is causing a hindrance to your concentration.”
You rubbed the back of your neck with a sheepish smile, “Yeah, something like that.” Your eyes flickered to the mole above the corner of his lip.
“What’s distracting you?” Viktor tilted his head as he nudged your knee with his.
You sighed, “I was looking at the moles on your face.”
Viktor’s eyebrows raised, “Oh? And what about them?”
You smiled, remembering the myth your friends and family relayed to you many, many years ago.
“They reminded me about a myth I learned about growing up. I was told that the moles and birthmarks on your skin were indicators to where your lover from your past life kissed you the most.” You nudged his knee back.
A light flush sprinkled his cheeks. Viktor hummed, leaning his cane against the workbench, “And… You believe it?”
“Mhm, yes. But also no.”
“How so?”
You tapped your chin, “I find the sentiment behind it adorable, sure. But I think it makes the reason to kiss someone all the sweeter for the next lover in the next life.”
Viktor nodded. Pulling his chair closer to yours, his knees now brushed against yours.
“So, you’re telling me, a lover from my past life liked to kiss me… Here and here.” Viktor pointed to the moles on his face.
You smiled and nodded back, softened eyes flickering to his moles, “I think your lover knew what they were doing.” Viktor raised a brow. “I theorize that the lover from your past life kissed you here,” You softly tapped the mole under his eye with a finger, “And here,” You tapped the one above the corner of his mouth, “Because they were the most optimal spots for kisses.”
“That’s certainly a… bold theory.” Viktor smugly smiled, eyes darting to your lips briefly. “Maybe… You could test your theory?”
Your eyes widened, a quiet gasp catching in your throat at the mere image of you kissing his cheek. 
“I-I mean yes, I could, theoretically.” You bit your lip before shrugging. “But... I’m going to need a participant.”
Resting his elbows on his knees, Viktor leaned forward so much that his face was just inches away from yours.
“You have a prime contender right here.”
You cleared your throat, “Well, as the researcher, I’m going to need to ask the participant for verbal consent, which coincides with ethics, confidentiality and confirms that they want to participate in the study–“
“Yes. I consent. Now will you stop stalling, my duck?” Viktor chuckled.
You gave a single nod, biting the insides of your cheeks in an attempt to stop smiling. Taking in a gentle breath, your fingers floated under his chin, hooking it between your index finger and thumb. Leaning forward, you planted a soft kiss under his eye, letting your lips linger for a few moments. You heard Viktor’s breath hitch as your thumb grazed against his skin.
Gravitating towards his other mole, you kissed it with just as soft of a touch. Your lips were dangerously close to the corner of his lip – if you had moved just a hair-width below, you would have met a sliver of his mouth.
Pulling back, you chuckled at the sight before you. Viktor’s cheeks were drenched in pink, the tips of his ears turning almost as red as his tie.
“So as the main participant in this study,” You smiled as you stood up and sat at the edge of the lab table, “Is my theory correct?”
Slightly loosening the tie around his neck, Viktor chuckled with a widened grin, “W-Well, you’re going to have to note that I will certainly have a bias in the results,” Viktor smirked up at you, “But you’re correct. My lover from my past life knew where I liked to be kissed… except I think they forgot a crucial one.”
Before you could deliver a question, you realized that Viktor’s golden eyes burned with something behind them as he stood up. You didn’t have time to react as Viktor placed his arms beside you, caging you in as he leaned against the table. Cupping your cheek, he brought his lips to yours.
You sat there frozen, your mind short-circuiting at the feeling of Viktor’s lips on yours. Fluttering your eyes closed, you pressed back tenderly, slowly, and gently, moving your lips against his. Your lips perked into a tiny grin against Viktor’s mouth, reaching up to gently hold Viktor’s wrist as he caressed against your cheek.  
When you two pulled away, Viktor stammered, “I-I apologize if I overstepped–“
You cut him off by grabbing his tie, lightly tugging him forward so you could kiss him again.
“Oh.” Viktor chuckled, stumbling slightly as you kissed him with more passion, one hand still holding his tie while the other snaked into his hair. Viktor stood in between your legs, his hands landing on your waist while a quiet sigh emitted from the back of his throat. The hand in his hair soon traveled down, you gently held the side of his neck as your thumb caressed the side of his jaw.
A mischievous thought passed your mind. You lightly gave a playful bite to his lower lip, making Viktor’s breath hitch. His hands at your waist tightened, his lips pressing firmer and more feverish than ever, making you sigh into the kiss.
Pulling away, Viktor pressed his forehead to yours, deep breaths mingling as smiles reached both of your faces. Viktor let out a giddy laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling in delight as he brushed the tip of your nose with his.
“So…” Viktor sighed, languidly rubbing circles with his thumbs at your waist, “I forgot to ask, do you think my moles are optimal placements for kisses?”
With a big smile, you cupped his cheeks and kissed his moles again.
“Does that answer your question?” You laughed, running your thumbs across his cheekbones.
“Yes, it quite does,” Viktor closed his eyes briefly, leaning into your touch, “One last question.”
Sliding your hands down, you draped your arms over his shoulders, “Shoot.”
“You also said that my moles give a reason for the… next lover to continue those kisses,” Viktor avoided your eyes as the flush on his cheeks deepened, “So I ask, will you be that person? My… lover?”
Warmth bloomed in your chest, diffusing across your body, and traveled up to your face. Your face felt like it was set ablaze, particularly in your cheeks.
For the longest time there was no label. And now with his kisses and touch burned into your mind, imagining your relationship to be officially defined–
“I would love to.”
Viktor grinned, capturing your lips once more.
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quacksonbarnes · 6 months ago
Fight or Flight (2.)
Pairing: Viktor x Childhood Friend! Reader
Warnings: Angst, fluff, NSFW, soft dom!Viktor, shower sex (this is my first time attempting full on smut help)
Word Count: 4.6k
Requested: Part 2 of the first request!
Viktor examines the injuries you sustained during the fight whilst reprimanding you (A/N: Readers apartment is a room within the Academy!)
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Your limbs ached with every step you took, your body screaming with exhaustion. The flickering light ahead of you providing just enough exposure to know where you were going. The bridge was always bittersweet to cross, knowing how much bloodshed had occurred over the piece of architecture. A symbol of sorts, bridging two sides of completely different coins.
Stumbling forward, a dull throbbing between your temples caused your vision to blur slightly. Focusing on holding the makeshift ice-pack to your cheek, which once was pressed to your split lip.
The corner of your lip twitched at the thought that once returning to your apartment you could rest easy. Bastian was going to provide the funds for another few weeks due to your victory tonight, and that meant your sister would have food on the table. However, not an education... just yet. 
Gripping the railing of the bridge, your knuckles almost turned white at the force. You needed sleep desperately, and some pain killers. Your free hand fell to your bag that was slung over your shoulder, the one that Bastian had reminded you to grab before you left. You may have kept some in there, the only problem was you had no hydration to keep them down, apart from your own saliva.
Your mind wandered as you tried to distract yourself from the physical toll the fought took on you. You wondered if Viktor was still tinkering in the lab, working tirelessly for the price of progress. He was like that ever since he was a little kid, selflessly caring for others instead of himself. You reminisced on the time he'd shown you his mechanical boat he’d made, as you both ran after it. You had helped him up after he’d tumbled to the ground, losing his invention in the process. 
A couple days later, he showed up with it once again, however he never disclosed to you how he got it back. 
You smiled fondly as you remembered yet another memory. He’d organized an entire picnic for your birthday, attempting to prepare restaurant level food to prove to you that his culinary skills had improved. You thought he was taking a jab at your inability to cook as you’d never learnt whilst growing up.
He’d informed you that his mother had taught him, although he didn’t consider it a hobby. Once she passed, he’d stopped.
Your gaze fell to the cement below you... If only he’d seen you in this state, you couldn’t begin to imagine his distaste. His disappointment. 
You’d gone out of your way to cover up the yellow-brown bruises that decorated your body after each fight, not wanting Viktor to comment on them. The grazes were harder to cover up, so you lied, blaming them on your clumsy nature. He didn’t take much notice of it or so you’d thought. 
It must’ve been past midnight when you finally made it back to the Academy. Roaming through the eerily empty, not to mention dimly lit halls. A tension had risen in your chest, almost suffocating you. Afraid that if you breathed too harshly, something or most likely someone would jump out at you. 
As you continued forward, your attention was brought to the lab and subsequently, Viktor's room. Passing the door, you halted, internally fighting with yourself to check up on him. It’s not like he’d be able to see your injuries in this lighting anyway, but there was always a slight possibility. 
Allowing your hand to hover over the handle, you tried to convince yourself to leave it. Ultimately failing, you winced as the door creaked loudly at your intrusion. You scanned the room briefly, noting how the blue hue of the hex crystals lit the area in a spectacular fashion. Viktor, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen. 
You shook your head, he must’ve been so exhausted that he forgot to lock the door. Frowning slightly, you backtracked and pulled the door shut. Not forgetting the bag slung around your shoulder, you dipped your hand into it. Rummaging around you pulled out a set of keys. Squinting, you attempted to choose the right one by feeling around the tip of the key with your fingers. You’d memorized the grooves within the keys and which door they unlocked, it was a skill you prided yourself on. Pressing the golden key into the snug lock, you turned it, hearing a satisfying click. 
“That’s better.” You commented softly to yourself before turning away. Staggering forward a few more steps with a slight limp, you took the next right. Your apartment should be a little further down. Recognising the gold trim on the door, you halted in front of it. Shoving the first key on the chain into the lock, you opened it with haste. 
Stepping forward into the familiar room, you immediately threw your bag onto the quilt covered mattress. Shortly collapsing onto the bed with a huff, you opened one of your eyes, finding yourself staring between the slightly open door of your bathroom. A shower would be real nice right now.
Letting out an annoyed sigh, you rose to your feet. Your hands crossed over one another as you reached for the hem of your singlet, tugging it off in one swoop. Throwing the material onto the ground, you hooked your thumb under the elastic of your tights to pull them down. Inconveniently, they clung to your feet causing you to repeatedly lift your legs so the material would release. 
“I’m too tired for this shit.” You remarked as you stepped forward, pushing the door open and reaching for the light switches on the side of the wall. The light was almost blinding, stunning you for a moment as your vision adjusted. 
The mirror in front of you reflected your reaction, causing you to let out a small laugh at how wrecked you looked. Underneath your eyes were tinted a purple-blue colour, similar to the variety of bruises that decorated your torso and upper arms. Luckily, the makeshift icepack Bastian had gifted you had caused the swelling of your cheek to go down. Your lip however was still puffy, your fingertips traced over it slightly, feeling it tingle underneath the gentle touch. No wonder why Viktor had asked if you’d recently slept, you looked no better than he did. 
Leaning your arms on the marble counter, you hung your head trying not to let your eyelids flutter shut. A slight tapping noise caught your attention for a split second, glancing over your shoulder towards your room. Brow raised, you shook your head. You were probably just hearing things, it wouldn’t be the first time. 
Glancing toward the open shower, you reached your hand behind your back, stretching it uncomfortably to unlatch the hook of your bra. Allowing it to fall to the floor, you softly tugged down your panties and stepped out of them. 
You stumbled right, behind the wall that separated the shower head from the rest of bathroom. Leaning forward, your fingers brushed against the rigid handle forcing it upward to allow for the water to soothe your aching muscles. Closing your eyes, darkness engulfed your vision as you felt the scalding water hit your skin. Turning around on the spot, you tilted your head backward, attempting to run your fingers through your hair. 
“I know where you disappear to now.” 
You slightly jumped, recognizing the accented voice immediately. He sounded close, but not too close. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you poked your head around the wall. His back was leaning against the door frame, using the cane as leverage as he glanced towards your room to avoid eye contact. 
You calmly exhaled, turning back around to lean your arms up against the wall of the shower, “How’d you get in here?”
“Did you forget?” He paused momentarily, ”you gave me an extra key.”
“For emergencies only,” You reiterated, slight annoyance in the tone of your voice. You felt on edge at his presence, along with the fact that you were standing in the shower fully undressed. You knew he had the modesty not to peak.
“You don’t consider this an emergency?” Viktor’s question caused your train of thought to completely cease. This was just further confirmation that he knew what you’d been trying so desperately to cover up. 
You pressed your forehead against the chilling tiles, furrowing your brows and letting out a pained sigh. You didn’t know how to respond, your chest was tightening with every small intake of breath. No matter how this ended, it wasn’t pretty. 
“Let me see,” He demanded, followed by a soft, “please.” 
You crumbled, mumbling a brief ‘okay’. He placed his cane against the wall, hesitating slightly before stepping into the shower. He exhaled slowly, the humidity of the steam caused his breathing to feel uncharacteristically shallow. 
You, on the other hand, held your breath as you felt his presence behind you, refusing to turn around. You didn’t want to see the expression that decorated his features in this very moment. 
“You can breathe you know?” He stated light-heartedly, which caused you to let out a slight chuckle at his attempt to disburse the tension. His bashful awkwardness was endearing. 
Goosebumps began to breakout along your skin as he stepped closer, the water doing nothing to mask your back from him. You felt his warm breath fan against your shoulder as you focused on the tiles beneath you. The pads of his finger tips gently traced over a yellow-brown bruise that decorated your back. You could feel his analytical gaze trailing over your figure, he frowned at each discoloured mark that laid upon your skin. One of his hands ghosted the curve of your waist, aching to touch it but he refrained himself. 
“Why do you do this to yourself?” He whispered softly into your ear, causing you to clench your jaw unable to process his proximity to you in this state. Pushing past the fact that your best friend was seeing your bare body for the first time since you were children, you began to relax under his touch. 
“It’s to support my sister,” You admitted, unconsciously leaning back towards him, following his body heat along with the steaming water. He continued pressing his fingers against your back, softly massaging the bruised area with caution. 
“I thought you said she was alright and safe,” He commented, worry evident in his voice as he continued to work on you. 
“She is...it’s just financial issues with the adoptive family.” You informed him, twisting your head over your shoulder to make eye contact with him as you spoke. His brows furrowed, the corner of his lips threatening to downturn at the information. 
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” You didn’t miss the frustration within his tone, which caused you to shrink underneath him. Forcing your eyes shut, you braced yourself for the reprimanding you were about to get. 
“I didn’t want to burden you with all my family troubles."
He scoffed at your remark, shaking his head slightly. You felt his hand press against the bottom of your spine, causing you to let out a pained hiss at the contact. He’d touched the exact part you had landed on tonight. Viktor immediately retracted his hands whilst mumbling, “Sorry, I didn’t realise you were that tender.”
“It’s alright,” You responded, slightly missing the feel of his soft hands kneading your aching muscles. He took your reassurance as an indication to continue, moving your soaking hair over your shoulder with one finger. 
“This doesn’t excuse the fact you have to look after yourself better,” He whispered softly, pushing his thumb in an upward motion from the base of your shoulder to your neck. You attempted to stifle a whimper, face flushing from the embarrassment. 
You leant your head back, resting it against his shoulder as he basically held you up. You realised he was still wearing his vest, his clothes now soaking due to the water. He didn’t seem to mind, focused on you relaxing underneath his touch.
You let out a soft sigh, “Only if you do it first." 
“An ultimatum?”
You nodded breathlessly, smiling slightly at the humour within his rhetorical question. 
“I can work with that.”
The soft smile on your face began to drop, chewing nervously on your lip as you came to your senses, “Viktor, what are we doing?” 
“I’m showing you how much appreciation you deserve,” He stated nonchalantly, “Turn around.”
You obeyed his command, mouth slightly parting as he stepped closer. Water droplets falling from his shaggy brunette hair that now stuck to his face. You were enamoured by the desire in his gaze. His amber eyes burning into yours. 
You ignored the stinging sensation of the water against the cuts that decorated your cheek, your eyes flickering from his amber ones down to his lips briefly. The corner of his lip twitched at your slip up.
He raised his hand, cupping your jaw softly as he brushed his thumb against the new injuries. You nuzzled into his palm, following after the warmth as he smirked.
“You split your lip.” He remarked as if it was the most obvious thing ever. His comment caused you to unconsciously dart your tongue out to wet your bottom lip. The simplicity of the action made him physically react. 
Surging forward, he pressed his clothed body against your undressed one. The material of his vest brushing against you in the nicest way possible. His lips pressed against yours with fervour, his hand latching comfortably around your hip.
The coolness of the tiles against your bare back allowed a surprised squeak to escape your lips at his abrupt actions. All those years of pent up frustration and tension were being released in this very moment, and it felt perfect. 
You melted underneath him, hands finding themselves pulling at his soaking vest. You swiped your tongue against his bottom lip, coaxing it open to deepen the kiss. He followed your direction before breaking away, allowing you to unbutton the wet material that clung to his torso.
You rested your forehead against his as he helped, ripping off the vest and beginning to pull off his white undershirt that was now see-through.
"Someone's eager," It was your turn to tease, smiling fondly up at the scientist. His gaze softened at your grin, his thumb brushing against your cheek once again before responding, "It's hard not to be around you."
His response caused a blush to rise to your cheeks, becoming almost bashful. However, he couldn’t recognize the physical reaction due to the steam of the shower already making your face flushed. Your arms trailed down the sides of his torso before hooking into his belt, pulling him closer as you unbuckled it. 
His palm cupped your breast, kneading it softly before running a thumb around your nipple. You faltered, a whine escaping your lips as you focused on his repeated motion. 
“So responsive,” He hummed, intently watching your expression change at his exploration of your body. He’d imagined this moment so many times but it was incomparable with reality. He couldn’t comprehend that you were falling apart under his touch. 
In retaliation to his comment, you pressed your hand against his length. Cupping him through the fabric of his boxers in such a way that it made him sharply inhale. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth at his reaction, gazing up at him through your lashes.
His hand gripped your wrist, causing confusion to spread across your face. Shaking his head, he reiterated, “This is meant to be about you.”
A disappointed huff left you at his comment, causing him to respond with, “Next time.” You nodded, excitement coursing through your body at the promise of a next time. His grip on your wrist tightened as he lifted your arm, holding it above you against the tiles. You busied your other hand by placing it on his shoulder. 
His head dipped down to enclose his mouth around your nipple, causing you to let out a pleasured sigh at the sensation. Your impatience was getting the better of you. He swirled his tongue in such a way it nearly made your knees buckle. 
His name fell from your lips like a mantra, something he’d never get tired of hearing. You took it as an opportunity to run your fingers through his dripping hair, brushing it back out of his face. He obviously appreciated the gesture as his hand ghosted between your thighs, almost making you close them together in a desperate attempt for friction. 
Awkwardly, he attempted to get onto his knees without causing his leg any extra discomfort. You held you hands out toward him to use them as leverage, scared he’d hurt himself, especially in the shower. 
Once comfortable, he hooked his hands around the underside of your thighs to pull you closer to him. You sharply exhaled at the sight in front of you. The man you’d been pining over for years, eagerly on his knees for you. 
He teasingly trailed his fingers up the inner side of your thigh, you let out a whine of frustration at his hesitance. Internally, you felt like you were a second away from spontaneously combusting. 
“Viktor, If you don't hurry up-,” Your plea was cut short as he leant forward, pressing his thumb against your clit. He began slowly moving it in figure eight motions, processing the expressions on your face whilst doing so. 
“What were you saying?” He questioned smugly, gazing up at you as he began to tease your dripping entrance with his nimble fingers. Calculatingly, he ran two of them between your folds. You hummed encouragingly whilst gazing down at him, biting your lip to prevent a whine from escaping. 
“I didn’t think you’d be this much of a tease,” You breathily sighed as he continued to glance up at you, a soft smile decorating his features. As a response, he sunk the two fingers into your cunt until they were knuckle deep. Your whimper was cut short by your breath hitching. He began scissoring his fingers in such a way that it caused your shoulders to slump forward. Your fingers found their way into his soaking brunette hair, attempting to use it as motivation to coax him further. He became rougher with his motions, continuing to experiment and observe the way your body reacted to him. 
Your lips parted, allowing a moan to escape as he sped up his ministrations on your clit. The overall stimulation sent your head reeling. Curling his fingers in an almost ‘come hither’ motion, they grazed against your sweet spot. You swore you nearly came undone right then and there. Your head abruptly hit the tiles behind you, wincing slightly at the accidental jerk. 
“Don’t go hurting yourself again,” He huskily remarked, humour in the tone of his voice before leaning forward and replacing his thumb with his tongue. The contact with your clit sent a shiver up your spine, face heating up due to the lewd sounds of your own wetness. It caught you by surprise how attuned he was with your body. Sucking softly on your clit, he looked up at you with hooded eyes. 
He continued to devour you, pushing you to the edge as his fingers repeatedly curled. Heightened by the way he was lapping up the mess you made. You let out a high-pitched whine as your body began to tremble at his touch. Your abdomen clenched as he felt the way you squeezed his fingers so greedily, making a growl leave his lips which vibrated against your cunt. Your release washed over you in waves. 
“Viktor.” You pleaded, the overstimulation almost hurting as he continued to graze his fingers against your sweet spot. Switching back, he placed his thumb on your abused clit before completely abandoning the idea and replacing it with his nose. 
Tugging his hair slightly to pull his face away from your cunt, he maintained eye contact with you. His chin glistened with your wetness as he darted his tongue out to lick you off his lips. Completely and utterly blissed out, you leant back against the wall, “Where did you learn that?”
He smiled at your question, refusing to answer. Slowly rising to his feet with slight difficulty, he used your torso as a stabiliser. Not allowing yourself a moment to rest, you surged forward, pressing your lips against his swollen ones with relentless passion. 
His arms wrapped around your waist, hiking one of your legs around his waist at the motion. You could still taste the remnants of yourself on his lips. Het let out a soft pant as you pressed yourself further into him.
Pulling back, you latched your lips onto the side of his neck. Suckling softly until you heard him let out a breathy moan. His hand reached out to grab your ass, squeezing it in response. You mumbled against him, “I need you Vik,”
He leant forward, grazing your earlobe with his lips as he responded with, “Then take me.”
His demand spurred you on, hooking your fingers underneath the elastic of his boxers, you tugged them down. 
Your eyes widened as you took in the size of him, admiring how swollen the tip was and the precum that dripped down it. Although, you weren’t sure he was going to fit. 
You stepped forward once again, enclosing your fist around his length. He hissed at the contact as you began pumping him in rhythmic motions. Running your fingers over the tip teasingly, he let out a stuttered moan. Pressing you against the wall, his hot breath fanned against your neck before placing soft kisses against it. Focusing on rolling his hips against you for some sort of friction. 
You used your hand to guide him to your entrance, lining him up and letting out a nervous sigh. Viktor pulled away when he heard the sigh that fell from your lips, analysing it immediately.  
His thumb and forefinger caught your chin, observing your wrinkled forehead and furrowed brows. He lifted your head upward so you’d make eye contact with him. 
“I’ll be gentle,” He hushed with sincerity, his amber eyes sparkling with another emotion you couldn’t decipher. He cupped the underside of your jaw, brushing his thumb against your skin reassuringly. In response, you pressed a kiss to his palm. 
He dipped his head, making sure you were alright with continuing before guiding himself into you. You exhaled sharply at the intrusion, mouth parting as he stretched you. You let your forehead fall onto his shoulder to hide the expression you were making. 
The sounds spilling from your mouth made him want to swallow them up. He pushed himself further into you, coaxing more sweet noises from you. The sensory stimulation caused your body to pulse against him. 
You dug your nails into the supple skin of his back as you adjusted to every inch you took, noticing how his skin was hot to the touch. He was filling you perfectly, causing you to feel slightly light-headed. 
“You’re doing so well.” He mumbled, pressing a kiss to your wet hair as you nodded against him. One of his hands gripped the underside of your thigh as your leg pressed him further into you until he completely bottomed out. His stance slightly faltered, causing your brows to furrow. 
“Don’t overexert yourself.” You reminded him, afraid that this was too much pressure on his leg. Although he didn’t seem bothered and continued to rut against you. He dislodged one of your arms from gripping onto his back and instead intertwined his fingers with yours. Pressing your hand up against the wall again, he squeezed your hand reassuringly.  
Pulling nearly all the way out, he teased you by easing in particularly slow. Feeling him drag against your walls, you moaned against his throat. He punctuating his teasing with rough thrusts immediately after, the erratic rhythm causing you to clench around him. The sound of skin on skin contact filled the bathroom, adding to both the pleasure and embarrassment you were currently feeling. 
You pressed your swollen lips against his in an almost teeth shattering kiss, tilting your head to the side as you dipped your tongue into his mouth. Tasting him as well as stray water droplets from the showerhead. He returned the kiss, licking into your mouth as a fight for dominance. Although this time, you ended up winning. 
You arched your back, rolling your hips against his as he continued to rut into you at a consistent pace. The position allowed him to reach deeper inside you, ultimately making you let out a shameless cry as your body shook with bliss. His hand dropped, thumb pressed snugly against your clit as he began to rub it in tantalizing circles. Your hands gripped his biceps to steady yourself. 
“You’re so fucking tight.” His praise sent your head reeling, body tingling at the way the words rolled off his tongue. It took you completely off guard, usually he was so composed. You smiled, knowing that it was your cunt that degraded him to the point of swearing. 
“Viktor, I c-can’t...” You stuttered, nose brushing against his as you maintained eye contact with him. He nodded, pressing his forehead against you in mutual understanding. Goosebumps littered your skin as you felt the coil in your abdomen tightening to the breaking point. His ministrations on your clit continued to fasten as you felt his hips begin to stutter. 
Your lips parted, forming a silent ‘O’ shape as your body convulsed against his. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you further into him as you both climaxed. 
He released inside of you, filling you to the brim with his cum. The warmth travelled from your core to throughout your body. He halted as you nuzzled your head between his neck and shoulder, embarrassed from being unable to control your spasming body. 
You breathed slowly as he slumped forward against you. Using you as a stabilizer of sorts as he regained his energy. Your core ached as he slid out of you, watching intently as his cum dripped onto the shower floor. It began to wash away due to the water. 
He took in your appearance, face flushed, lips swollen and a blissfully dazed expression decorating your features. You looked beautiful in this state, he wanted to see it more. 
“I didn’t even get to wash my hair,” You let out a humoured chuckle at your sudden realisation. Stepping forward slightly, you realised your legs were still shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm. His hands comfortably found a place on your hips which caused you to smile softly up at him. The newfound intimacy made butterflies erupt in your stomach. 
“Let me.” He offered to which you attempted to decline, crossing your arms over your chest. You shook your head in defiance as he began to step back, turning your body around and inching you backwards into water and further towards him. The heat of the water took you by surprise, gasping and running your hands over your face to rid it of the droplets. Your body temperature immediately dipped once in contact with the cold, yet humid air. 
“You’ve done enough.” You insisted sincerely, a slight frown gracing your features as you followed his movements. He chuckled slightly at your reaction to the water. Patting you on the hip reassuringly, he responded with, “I insist.”
Viktor reached for the purple bottle of shampoo that sat comfortably inside the indentation of the wall. Squirting the liquid on his hands, he began to lather them together. 
He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder as he massaged your head, protecting your eyes from the suds. You nearly collapsed from exhaustion.
“Your water bill is going to be through the roof.” He muttered disapprovingly.
“And whose fault is that?” You remarked, almost feeling him roll his eyes at your comment. Totally worth it.
2K notes · View notes
dicax-asina · 28 days ago
What are some of your favorite Perv!Viktor thoughts? Any ideas on what you think he does?
Oh, anon. I have some. Here you go. Suggestive content under the cut.
Let’s start things off with his #1 character flaw: he thinks the fact that he’s otherwise sneaky applies to this, too.
Spoiler: it does not
His #2 character flaw: he has a serious case of down bad disease
It’s subtle at first. You call out his name in a bit more of a desperate tone when a stack of books you’re carrying threatens to topple over.
He’s stuck in place. He wants to help, he really does. But his brain, his brilliant, brilliant brain does not tell him to grab his cane and help you steady your balance. His brilliant, cruel brain contorts your tone, slots it into all kinds of scenarios. You, head thrown back, legs tightening around him, drawing him deep, crying out his name. You, burying your hands in his hair, grinding yourself against his tongue harder, taking what you need from him. You, on your knees—
He startles when the books scatter across the floor with awfully loud thuds, apologizes profusely for quote, unquote not picking up on your voice. You know how it is, with the council, with the investors, he’s got a lot to think about.
Another time, after you’ve finished eating some pastries for lunch, Viktor notices crumbs at the side of your lips
He tries very, very hard not to stare, and instead, to instruct you where to brush them off
He succeeds in neither task
You suggest he does it for you. He tries not to think too hard about the implications of it, and, instead, thumbs at the upper corner of your lips
Subconsciously, the rest of his hand slides under your chin, angling it upwards
Mark him down as horny and scared when you hum gently, tilting your face further towards him
Poor man chokes on his own spit before he can even blush properly
And yet, he lets his thumb drag, across your lip, reveling in the plush feel of it below before you retreat and thank him
Yep, that one’s going in the spank bank
He’ll be jacking off that moment for weeks on end. Now he finally, finally has a sample, an idea, about what your lips would feel like when he taps the head of his cock against them
That idea sticks with him. God, does it fucking stick with him.
In a very futile attempt at being subtle, he buys Jayce some chocolate, and you, a lollipop. He didn’t know what exactly you’d like, he explains, and he wanted to show his appreciation for so many months of smooth collaboration. That’s it.
He knows his suffering is self-inflicted, but he could die a happy man watching your cheek bulge when you tuck the lollipop between it and your teeth as you work on an equation, at the table beside him
He could die a very happy man when you pop it out of your mouth and let it drag against your lips
He will die a terrified man as you stand up, walking towards him, and ask him if he’s feeling alright
Viktor can’t register what you’re saying, not when you deposit the candy against your cheek once more. He only knows that his soul leaves his body when you smooth a hand over his forehead, and conclude that he’s burning up
Oh, he’s burning up, alright
He insists that he’s fine
You don’t buy it
With a huff, you turn on your heels to go fetch him some medicine and a glass of water
Viktor leans against his desk, getting up just in time to catch your sleeve and insist that he’s fine, honestly, he’s fine, he’s never been better, actually
Until your eyes drift lower
He definitely has never been better, that’s for sure
Especially when you smirk up at him in what seems to be like triumph
Perhaps a confirmation of a burning suspicion, or, Viktor dares to hope, proof of the fact that your feelings are not so different from his
Your answer isn’t what he expects
You ask if you’re the cause of it
If only you knew the cause of just how much more you were
Still, Viktor nods. Somehow. Barely. Part of him suspects this is just another dream he’ll wake up from with a heaving chest and cum-soaked underwear
When you take the lollipop stick between your fingers, letting your tongue loll out as you drag it out of your mouth, he knows for a fact it isn’t
You tap the sticky, sugary thing to his lips, your tone is demanding
Hold this for me, you say
Viktor’s mind is already going fuzzy at the mere idea of swapping saliva with you, even impersonally, like this
He realizes he’ll be swapping more than just saliva as you kneel and unzip his slacks
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zaunitearchives · 21 days ago
This is for the anon that requested a reader without panties while climbing up a ladder. I just HAD to make this man perverted in this one, seriously, thank you for that specific ask anon, I loved it. Also just publicly posted my ko-fi, teehee
Just A Peek [NSFW]
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Pervert Viktor x F!Reader
Word count: 1.6k
Tags: Pervert behavior | Masturbation | Cunninglus | Oral(M! Recieveing) | Some praises? | Sir, this is a library
Viktor can feel his heart skip a beat as he watches closely at how your skirt swishes with each step on the ladder. Hungry eyes devouring the sight of your bare legs, he knows he should look away, that it's crude--but how can he? 
It's a fight to prevent himself from burying his head underneath, to ravish you in the Academy library. Would you hold onto the railings of the ladder? Or maybe you'd cling onto the bookshelf as he'd mercilessly run languid strokes of his tongue on your clit.
He could hear it now, the faint echoes of your moans within the lonely room. Delicious keens of his name as his tongue would skillfully lap away, your wetness dripping from his chin.
"The books, please?"
"Oh," Viktor stutters, his cheeks subtly changing to pink. "Right. The books."
Viktor hooks his cane around his arm, turning to grab the pile of books on the table beside the ladder. He knew you'd help him; it's why he coyishly planned the order of books you'd be putting up. In particular, one would require you to raise yourself on your tippy-toes, a valiant effort to sneak a glimpse underneath you when you weren't looking.
Shame begins to pool within, it's wrong, and he knows it. Yet, even now, his cock twitches at the idea. The rush of getting caught makes it that much more invigorating. You've festered within the man's mind and laid waste to him, tearing apart the once sophisticated person he once was. So it used to be when you shared a room with him; at least then, he could function somewhat. Instead, he curses himself at every waking moment, finding it impossible to keep you from his imaginative mind.
Lecherous thoughts find their way into his mind, vivid scenarios unfolding before him, all centered around you. Yet, despite the inner conflict, Viktor continues to surrender to his desires, taking himself in hand each night, groans of your names eluding his lips within his bedroom.
The tasteful idea of you under his desk, struggling to fit the entirety of his cock into your mouth. A gentle purr of your name off his lips, tender calloused fingers ghosting your cheek as you’d sloppily take him in entirety. Such a good girl, he’d coo, taking me so well. A gentle swipe of his thumb at the tears that’d swell up, but you’ll push through, desperate to have him deep within your throat.
If only it were your mouth instead of his hand wrapped firmly around his cock. Precum beading with each lethargic stroke, roping from the tip and onto the floor, glistening in the dimly lit lab. He can’t even make it to his dorm anymore; the thought of you all too overbearing on the man, he despises what he’s become. 
Sweat pools at his temples as his pace quickens, shamelessly groaning with each pump. Viktor leans back and watches his hand as he works himself, imagining yours instead, how your eyes would look up at him, pupils blown wide with lust. 
Yes, he groans out. 
Viktor can hear you call his name out, praising him as he’d lay chase to his climax, feeling his cock twitch with each stroke.
He whimpers, the tight grip around himself borderline painful.
Almost there, Viktor.
“Viktor!” You yell out, waving your hand in front of him from the ladder.
The man shakes his head, his soft brown locks bouncing with the motion. “Yes?” He responds.
“The books.” You reiterate as both hands reach out. “Please.”
Viktor nods, a soft chuckle eluding his once pursed lips as he places each book into your hands. He was pushing away his intrusive thoughts, doing his most damn to maintain his composure in front of you. That is until you begin to pry.
“Viktor, what’s going on?” You ask, glossing over the shelves, beginning to place them in proper order.
There's only one option, feign ignorance. As he always did.
"What do you mean?" Viktor grabs the last stack of books, sneaking glimpses of your legs as you methodically place each book on the proper shelf.
As quickly as he glimpses, he tears his lingering gaze from your legs. Then, watching your fingers gloss over the spine of each book, brows knitted in concentration.
"You seem distracted today; everything all right?"
Ah, of course, you'd notice.
"Eh, –rough day at the lab. Tired." He lies.
Viktor raises a brow as you giggle at his response.
"I wasn't aware you got tired. Mark me as surprised."
Oh, how very much he wanted to do so. Preferably your inner thighs.
"Yes, well, I believe there is a first time for everything. No?" 
He loathes the way his brow twitches at your lulling giggle, cursing himself as he hands you another book, fingers grazing against another.
You stop for a moment, locking eyes with the man, hovering above him on the ladder.
"I suppose there is, isn't there?" You tease, quickly plucking another book from him.
Viktor despises his cock strains against his pants, clinging to any attention you dare toss at him. 
Are you flirting? He thinks to himself. No, of course not. 
A soft, I suppose so, is all he can muster. 
An amused chuckle is all you respond with, quickly returning another book to its proper place.
"How many more?" You ask, taking one step down the ladder.
Finally, the book that'll grant him what he so desperately craved.
Nimble fingers grasp the book, holding it triumphantly, a smirk across his face.
"Last one." He says, handing you the book. "Be careful, though; I believe this one is on the top shelf."
Viktor feigns concern, watching as you turn your head up to see where the book would go, bearing a disapproving look.
"To think you were going to do this on your own. You know you can always ask me for help, Viktor."
The man nervously laughs as you snatch the final book, steadily climbing the steps, higher and higher.
"Well, I'd hate to put you in such uh..." Viktor's voice falters, and eager eyes trail up your bare legs as you climb higher. "A position." He mutters, feeling the tension build within his shoulder and among… other places.
"Er–predicament. I'd hate to put you in such a predicament."
Viktor can feel himself falling apart at the seams, eyes trailing higher with each step, eagerly wanting more, feeling his greediness swelling within, thrashing about, desperate to claw to the surface.
"It's fine, Viktor," you giggle. "I quite enjoy being in predicaments with you." You add, stopping at the top of the ladder.
Tantalizing eyes trace along your bare legs, starting from your ankle, shifting up ever so slightly, wishing desperately to commit each minor detail to memory.
You grunt in frustration, doing your best to reach the top shelf to place the book; if only it weren’t so damn high. However, as you curse the damn bookshelf, unbeknownst to you, Viktor is immensely enjoying the show below, eyes honed in on you and his lip tucked between his teeth. 
He is fighting every fiber in his being to not whimper. 
More Viktor thinks. I must see more.
“Oh, careful.” Viktor points out, coyishly stepping at the ladder's base, gently wrapping his hand around your leg, stroking your soft skin with his thumb.
Another shudder courses with him, so soft he thinks to himself.
You huff out. “Almost got it.” You raise yourself, standing at the tips of your feet as you grunt.”Just a little more!”
Any ounce of shame within him has dissipated, excitement and curiosity brimming within him.
“Just a little more!” Viktor encourages, a sly smirk tugging at the corner of his lip.
Viktor glances around the room, ensuring that nobody may bear witness to the heinous notion he is about to commit. Then, another quick peer at you, still struggling with the shelf. Then, timidly, Viktor lowers his head, carefully lifting the edges of your skirt as you continue to work.
Days of questions that ruminated deep within his intricate mind, such crude questions that desperately required answers. What color do you like to wear? Perhaps you wear something more, risque? 
Nothing could’ve anticipated him for such a sight before him, something that only existed within his wild fantasies. An image that stalled every sense within him, how his hand remained frozen on your skirt, mouth ajar as he glared.
There’s nothing!
You’re entirely bare underneath, wholly exposed to the man.
Viktor swears under his breath, his fingers tensing around your leg as he keenly analyzes your exposed cunt. How could he not stare at such a beautiful sight? Is this all for him, he wonders? Perhaps, you did this strictly for him, knowing he’d have such a perfect view? Temptation swells deep within, struggling to stop himself from swiping between your folds, or better yet, climbing behind the ladder and devouring you there and now.
“Viktor,” Your voice rings within his ears, taking several moments for it to reach his senses finally.
Entirely transfixed on you, the man hums absentmindedly.
“Enjoying the view?”
Panicked eyes are meeting yours, an inexplicable emotion festering behind them, noting the smile across your face.
“Well?” You tease, swaying your hips.
Shades of pink graced his face, half-lidded eyes darting between you and your core, feeling drool begin to pool within his mouth.
“Y-yes.” He mutters, shrinking under your gaze.
You giggle, such a pleasing sound he wishes to indulge, like that of a savory-sweet, all for him.
“Well, then-” Viktor gasps as you take a step down, lowering yourself, offering an ample height and angle for the man.
“What are you waiting for then?”
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gaybybirth · 7 months ago
a theory - pt one
Viktor x Fem!Reader (SFW)
Arcane Masterlist
Synopsis: Viktor has a rather interesting theory regarding you that he wants to discuss.
Warnings: sexual tension, fluff, pining, Viktor being cheeky, angst if you squint but like not really, (nsfw in future parts)
Word Count: 4.4k
A/N: I tried not to fuck up any of the lore, and I apologize for any anachronisms. Anyways, I think Viktor is my favorite character from Arcane, and I'm terrified of what they're going to do to him in season two because his lore is up in the air. Anyways, glorious evolution and all that. Enjoy.
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“I have a theory.”
The words that predated many life-changing events. In this case, it was Viktor standing in the doorway of the kitchen, leaning with his weight on his cane, head cocked to the side. His eyes were sharp as he scanned the messy room. It wasn’t exactly messy, but the flour that you’d dropped during the first batch of cupcakes was definitely noticeable. Especially on your apron and in your hair.
“You have many of those, Viktor. You’re a scientist. An inventor. Theories and you go hand-in-hand.” You made a pointed effort not to linger on him. If you did, you’d only take in the tall, lean frame you enjoyed looking at more than a friend should.
His cane thumped on the floor as he approached you. What was once a potent scent of vanilla and cinnamon became an overwhelming coffee--a staple in Viktor and Jayce’s day--and something that reminded you of a snow-covered forest under moonlight. You didn’t need to see him beside you to register the heat of Viktor’s body as he sat on a nearby stool, acting as if the furniture was there waiting for him. His legs—those damn long legs—sprawled out as he looked at you. No other confirmation was needed besides the weighty feel of his gaze on you.
His smile was like sunshine washing over you as he sat beside you, watching as you piped frosting onto the cupcakes.
“They do, yes.”
You frowned at a somewhat lopsided bit of frosting. You couldn’t work under Viktor’s watchful gaze. It made your hands shake. Turned the room two sizes too small. As if you and Viktor were the only two occupants in a quaint, stuffy closet. Chests nudging as they expanded with each unsteady breath. Eyes trying to meet in the shadows, like two lost stars waiting to collide.
When he didn’t elaborate, you sat the piping bag down and frowned.
“Yes, Viktor? I’m trying to work here.”
Viktor smiled and eyed the bowl of white frosting. The entire room lit up around him. His smiles weren’t rare, but they still seemed to draw you to him like a moth to a flame. And the way the corners of his mouth tipped up in amusement as he looked over your station was all you needed to be thrown into the cataclysm that was Viktor.
Although, that seemed to happen daily. Which was getting out of hand. Very much out of hand, especially when you noticed yourself holding your breath as Viktor’s eyes met yours. And you realized that smile was directed at you. Still, you maintained the mock annoyance.
“I think I understand now why you’re always brimming with smugness whenever you come bother Jayce and me in the lab.” He laughed softly. “This is fun.”
You bit your cheek and handed him a cupcake, holding it directly in front of his face, and stared at him expectantly.
“You must be hungry since you’re in the kitchen. So, here. Take your snack and go.” Although, you didn’t particularly want him to leave.
He frowned at the baked good and sat it down.
“But I haven’t tested my theory.”
“You haven’t even told me your theory.”
“Well, I never said I was going to tell you.” He turned the cupcake a full 360 degrees, admiring every bit of surface area.
“Then take your cupcake and get back to work.” You waved him off.
He waited a full thirty seconds—watching you toy with the piping bag then adjusting cupcakes you weren’t frosting—before speaking again. He poked the hardening frosting.
“Is it editable?”
You glared at him wide-eyed.
“Yes, of course, it’s edible, you ass.”
“Ah, my apologies, wrong choice of words. Is it tasty?”
He was just getting your goat at this point. The way his eyes glinted when yours twitched--and the pure amusement dripping from the word tasty--told you as much. So much so that, without much of a second thought—one that you really should have had—you reached forward and procured a dollop of frosting on your forefinger. Viktor’s gaze followed it as you held it in front of him.
What you’d been expecting him to do was either frown, look at you incredulously, maybe make a joke about how unhygienic that was, or just pull the frosting off with his own finger. What you weren’t expecting was him leaning forward, holding eye contact with you that felt ten times more intimate than you knew it was, and wrapping his lips around your finger. A full-body shiver rocked you as his tongue grazed the pad of your finger and all coherent thoughts left you.
When he pulled back, it was like the spark that ignited between you was one-sided. Very much between you and yourself.
“Oh, yes, that is rather tasty. Might I bring one to Jayce as well?”
You blinked at him for a solid second before sliding another cupcake his way.
“Thank you,” he murmured, but he still didn’t stand. He tossed his cane from hand to hand, deliberating something internally.
“Yes, Viktor?” You asked slower, quieter. To your dismay, your voice came out husky. Needy. You cleared your throat as if that would magically cover it up.
“My theory requires assistance.” He shrugged and reached a hand out. When you didn’t move, he nodded at your empty hand, and you reluctantly gave it to him.
Suddenly, you were aware of each callous, each soft patch of skin between yours and Viktor’s hand. His hand fully encompassed yours as he turned it over. Fingers danced over yours, bringing goosebumps to the surface of your skin, before they settled on your wrist. His gaze fell to yours once more as he searched your face. He smiled again.
You were just about to open your mouth and ask for an explanation, but Viktor spoke first.
“Your heart is racing.”
Heat flooded your face—amongst a few other places—and you jerked your hand from Viktor’s. That certainly wasn’t helping whatever case was being built against you here. Viktor laughed—making flowers bloom and birds chirp—and he practically beamed at you.
He reached out and tugged on your apron. With less hesitation than you liked, you gave in and let him pull you towards him. He continued to smile as he brought you closer. Guiding you between his legs until you were mere inches from him. You’d shared close proximity before. But this? When you could feel and hear your heart in your ears. When every inch of you was on fire, and every nerve and every thought was screaming touch me. It was dangerous being this close to Viktor. It was a heartbreaking reminder that you’d never get the match to drop into kerosene. You’d have to keep dousing yourself with ice water to control the heat, to extinguish the flames. And you feared with each failed attempt that the fire was turning to grease, spreading wider and growing more vicious with each dump of water atop it.
“What?” You tried to say, acting as if you were totally unaffected by him. But it came out embarrassingly breathy.
He reached up and you froze as he dusted off a bit of flour from your cheek. The minimal contact made your knees weak. You had to stop yourself from leaning into the touch, from sighing like this was the first time someone had touched you in months. It had been, but Viktor didn’t need to know that.
“Your heart is racing,” he repeated. He slid his fingers up your wrist, trailing the length of your forearm until he got to your elbow. He guided you even closer. Even while sitting down, he barely sat shorter than you.
“It tends to do that when I’m annoyed,” you lied.
Viktor brought his hand down to his lap and you missed the sudden warmth of his touch.
“Mmm, does it?”
“It does,” you said a little stronger. As if that false certainty would make up for the blatant lie. “So, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get back to work.”
He nodded. He put his weight on his cane as he stood up, positioning himself far closer to you than you’d been expecting. He eyed the cupcakes, his cane, his hands, then you. You muttered a quiet apology, plated the cupcakes on a throwaway dish, and handed them to Viktor. He grinned as he took it, catching your gaze, somehow managing to look at you through his lashes.
“Can you stop by the lab later?” His voice was a mere whisper. “I have a few things I require your assistance with.”
“Isn’t that what Jayce is for?” It didn’t come out as mock-annoyed as you wanted. Curiosity seeped through instead.
“Perhaps for most things. But I am specifically in need of your assistance with this.” He turned on his heels. “So if you’d be so kind, it’d be greatly appreciated.”
“We’ll see,” you said to his back as he left.
You took extra care when frosting the remaining cupcakes. Mostly because you were trying to come up with an excuse not to go to the lab. You had a feeling it was going to lead to some sort of embarrassment on your behalf. Like the one time Viktor was talking to you about something Hextech related--you really weren’t listening, how could you when he was standing so close to you, eyes beaming with each word he said. He saw a spare page of his notes on the table and reached around you. Stupidly, you froze when you should’ve side-stepped and Viktor’s chest pressed against yours as he reached for the notes.
It nearly stopped your heart, that amount of body contact with him. But he seemed entirely unaffected by it when he pulled away. You, on the other hand, were holding your breath out of fear of gasping, praying he hadn’t felt how fast your heart was beating, and was trying to calm the warmth flooding your body. He just kept on as if nothing had happened, reading whatever was on the page and pacing around the room like a well-practiced professor.
Plus, after the close contact with him in the kitchen, your hands were left shaking. It took far more concentration to ice the desserts than you liked. It got to the point where, thirty minutes past what it should’ve taken you to finish, you threw down the piping bag and cursed the baked goods. Fuck you, you muttered in exasperation and stumbled out of the kitchen covered in bits of flour, frosting, and cake crumbs.
Apron discarded, you stood outside of Viktor and Jayce’s lab. Three deep breaths later, you knocked on the door expecting for Jayce to yell come in or some other greeting. Instead, it was Viktor’s voice who called for you to enter, and that made your heart leap into your throat. If Jayce hadn’t answered, that either meant he was preoccupied or simply wasn’t there. You hoped it was the former because if it were the latter...You weren’t sure you could handle any more alone time with Viktor that evening.
It was the latter. Viktor was alone in the lab when you walked in. He smiled at you over his shoulder, his hair looking fluffier and more askew than when you’d last seen it a few hours ago. He rolled his shoulders and motioned for you to join him beside one of the many desks. To your surprise, he wasn’t bent over some Hextech prototype. It was just a journal.
“What did you need my assistance with?”
Viktor tapped the edge of the desk, and you looked at it longer than you should have before giving him a questioning glance.
“Sit,” he murmured.
Tentatively, you obliged. You hoped your hop onto the desk was more graceful than it felt. Viktor smiled as he picked up the journal and paced the room. A frown took form as you watched him, both silent. Until he stopped in front of you, lowered the book, and seemed to study your face with the same critical observation face he used when reading Jayce’s notes.
“Is this what you called me in for, Viktor?” You cocked a brow at him. “To sit here and watch you read?”
“No.” He sat the book down and shifted his weight onto the cane. “I wanted to see if you would come.”
Your heart picked up in your chest.
“I’m sorry?”
“I wanted to see if you would come,” he repeated matter of factly.
You thought about picking up the book he’d been reading and throwing it at home. Or just jumping off the desk and storming out of the room. Both were good options. For some reason, you went with the first. Viktor barely dodged the incoming book, grinning like a madman when he watched it land across the room.
“I am tired, Viktor. If you wanted to hang out, you could’ve just asked me.”
“But that wouldn’t have worked.” He stepped closer, the thud of his cane echoing with each step. “I needed to see if you’d come simply because I asked, no other important information. Just that I needed your assistance.”
Before he could answer, you could already see the words forming in his head.
“I swear to everything, Viktor, if this is about your damn theory again.”
“It’s a rather interesting one if I might say so myself.”
You crossed your arms as Viktor closed the gap between you two, positioning himself directly between your legs. He swapped his cane out for the desk, leaning his weight against it, bringing him in close as he studied you. His eyes flickered and your breath hitched. Before you could blink, Viktor’s lips ghosted over yours. You flinched, digging your nails into the desk so hard that, had they been your palms, you would’ve broken skin.
“I think that you want to kiss me.”
Every nerve fired off in your body. His hips grazed your inner thighs, his breath fanned against your skin, his hair tickled your forehead. You had absolutely no idea how you were supposed to respond. For one, you desperately wanted to kiss him. But you didn’t want him to know that, even if he’d already deduced it himself. And it wasn’t like you could deny it. Viktor was too smart for his own good; he already knew the answer. Even if you wholeheartedly denied it, he’d keep that glint in his eye and just nod, playing along with the facade. Because he knew. And you had absolutely no idea what to do with that information.
So, you played along.
“What makes you say that?”
“Ah.” Viktor, to both your relief and dismay, straightened. He pointed towards the book discarded on the floor. “If you hadn’t so rudely thrown my notes, I would’ve shared my observations with you.”
“Notes?” You perked up as Viktor turned and started towards the book.
He didn’t speak again until he bent over, picked it up, and opened it. He hmmed and nodded, perusing the pages with a finger, his cane tucked under his arm. Finally, he said ah, and shifted so he fully faced you.
“A little over a month ago. While I was in the lab, working. You,” he nodded towards you, “brought in some fruits as snacks. Jayce wasn’t here, so I asked if you’d like to stay. You did.”
You tensed. You remembered this. You didn’t need any other information. Snacks, lab, alone with Viktor was more than enough to trigger the memory. One where your chest felt tight, your stomach wobbled inside you, and your knees grew weaker by the second. You locked eyes with Viktor as he glanced up from the journal. Instantly, as those all-knowing eyes met yours, your heart leapt into your throat.
“In doing so, you helped out with an experiment I was working on at the time. A prototype of Hextech armor.”
It wasn’t exactly armor. It was a corset in the pre-design phase, where they were still figuring out styling and fittings before they even moved onto the Hextech aspect. So Viktor had you step into the clothing. It was a thick, soft fabric, covered in large, unbending pieces that mimicked the future protective parts.
The corset aspect was one thing; you could ignore the tightness in your chest and the beating of your heart easily. But one of the design features to get adequate measurements and fitting was straps. Lots and lots of straps. So it became near unbearable, standing there while trying to act unaffected by Viktor’s fingers working each strap tight. Every so often, he’d ask, “Is that alright?” And his fingers would graze against you at the same time, drawing the breath from your lungs. The scent of coffee--and fruit from the assortment you’d brought in--overwhelmed you.
“Your pupils were dilated, your breathing was uneven, and you were uncharacteristically nervous.” Viktor stepped towards you. “I noticed that you kept avoiding eye contact, and you weren’t looking at my freckle.”
Viktor smiled and tapped the beauty mark above his mouth. One you’d told yourself you were looking at multiple times, trying to convince yourself that you weren’t staring at his mouth. Or that you weren’t fantasizing about what his lips felt like against yours; your neck, your clavicle, your chest.
Viktor’s smile didn’t falter as he set the book down, clearly waiting for you to say something. Probably something smart or witty; something to combat what he’d said. But, like when he’d tightened the straps of the corset, he’d sucked the air right of you. You’d just wished it’d been because his fingers were brushing against the different sections of your torso. Not because he’d been the brilliant man that he is and noticed the crush you’d been trying to keep under wraps.
You wished you hadn’t played along. You wished you had just gone back to your room, apologized to Viktor the next day, and then hope he’d put the whole I have a theory thing behind him. But wishing wasn’t going to make it a reality. Instead, you sucked in a slow breath, steadying yourself on the desk, and rolled your shoulders back.
“Really, Viktor, that’s what you called me in here to discuss?” You tried to maintain the steadiest voice you could muster, but it still came out uneven.
“Are you saying my theory is incorrect?” He was back in front of you now, the same spot between your legs, the book sat beside your parted thighs.
You hesitated for a second too long with your deliberations--were you to tell him the truth or simply deny it--and settled on repeating yourself. Still, the momentary quiet that came with your indecision made Viktor beam with what you pinpointed as vindication. Surely since you weren’t answering, the answer had to be yes.
“Is this really all you wanted to discuss, Vik? I could be sleeping.”
You expected him to step back then, maybe shrug his shoulders and say yes. Then he’d dismiss you, telling you to sleep well, and the two of you would never talk about what happened again. There’d be some light teasing, sure, but it would’ve been left in the dust. That was the Viktor you knew. But then something tiny, almost unnoticeable, flickered behind his eyes, and it was only then that he started to step back.
The faintest falter in his smile had you reaching after him.
“However, if I am wrong, I do apologize.” He nudged the journal closer to you. “And I fear my observations may have proved rather inappropriate.”
Viktor hadn’t even left the vicinity that was the gap between your legs before you spoke again. Your hand found his arm, and he glanced over your shoulder. It’d been uncertainty. Something you’d seen in him only when he’s working, experimenting, tinkering. It was always pinpointed towards another object or thought. Never when it came to him. And if he’d been wrong about you liking him and it brought the uncertainty to him?
Your eyes locked.
“I do,” you blurted. “I do.”
An eyebrow quirked.
“You do?”
A stalemate. You had no idea if he wanted to kiss you. But it was important for him to know that you wanted to kiss him. That glint was back in his eyes, and that was more than enough to cover the fact that your heart was going to break through your chest any moment. The corners of your mouth twitched as Viktor scanned your face. Whatever he was looking for, he found, you guessed as he faced you once more.
“I want to kiss you, Viktor,” you said breathlessly, nearly combusting from the heat that poured onto your face.
He mimicked the same position he had when you’d first sat on the desk: hands on either side of you, leaning close, head dipped down to your level. His mouth parted, his brows pinched ever so slightly, and his eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“Prove it.”
Prove it…? You blinked up at him. Prove it? He wanted you to prove it. He wanted you to...His jaw tensed into an even sharper line than it usually was as you stared at him. The gears in your head managed to grind to halt at what was the worst possible moment. And then they kicked into overdrive as Viktor’s words repeated in your head and were replaced with kiss him.
Viktor made a small oh as you jerked him forward, fingers curling around his tie, and you swallowed the sound as your mouth met his. The seconds that passed once your mouths touched were composed of too much and too little. It was how soft his lips were that you weren’t getting nearly enough of. How he inhaled sharply and shifted back to adjust his stance. His hand coming up from the desk to your waist and then back down, tentatively moving, unsure of where he wanted it to be.
Snapping back to reality, you cupped his jaw, his hair tickling your forehead, and sighed when he mimicked the action. His hand was soft callouses against your cheek. His words echoed in your mind. I may not be as active as Jayce is with his hammer, but I’m still spending hours tinkering in the lab. It was after he’d cut himself on a particularly sharp piece of metal while experimenting. Jayce was out, and Viktor had trudged over to you in the kitchen down the hall.
“It’s closer than the infirmary and I couldn’t find the emergency kit in the lab. I fear we may have used it up already.”
After playfully berating him for bringing such contamination into a cooking environment, you sat him down and wrapped the wound. It wasn’t deep, nothing that would scar, but it let you draw your fingers over his palm. Smooth yet rough. Years of tinkering and experimenting showed on it. The other even more as he held his cane. Each touch was like a jolt of electricity through your veins. Ones that became more potent with each brushing of skin to the point where it almost hurt to hold his hand. It was a feeling that stuck with you long after. It was one that spread through you from your head all the way down to the tips of your toes, like a galaxy expanding in the dark cosmic space beyond the atmosphere.
It was like that now. As if someone seemed to press unpause and Viktor gasped, and the kiss deepened. Your hand moving to his hair, his nails digging ever so gently into your cheek. Scooting forward on the desk until, when you wrapped your legs around his waist, he was pressed against you. All of you. Only then did you let go of his tie and press your hand flat against his chest. His heart was like a drum beneath your touch. You wanted to peel away the layers and see how it felt with nothing between you and his chest.
Tongues touched, breathing grew heavy, and your mind went blank. The gears that had been turning into overtime now stalled. All that murmured in there was Viktor. Viktor and kissing and finally. A gleeful joy pumped through you at the delayed realization that he was kissing you back. Wholly and with a reciprocated desperation. Like he’d been waiting just as long as you had for this. Like he’d thought it was never going to happen with the same heartbreaking melancholy that slipped into your thoughts every night you thought about him.
The urge to blink away tears came suddenly. And then Viktor tilted your head back and closed an arm around your waist. The tears that snuck down your cheeks weren’t from what wasn’t going to happen, but the feel of what you never thought was going to. Your entire body pressed against Viktor’s, locked at the mouths, with hands grasping at hair and clothing. Nothing was shed, but when the pressure between your legs was becoming too much and you rolled your hips. Viktor’s quiet curse against your lips was like the spotlight on the hardness against you.
Your hand twitched on his chest before it went to fumble with his vest. When there was no protest on his end, you started to undo his tie. He momentarily broke the kiss to fumble with your jacket, pushing it off your shoulders with hands that trembled as yours had hours ago when you’d been trying to finish the cupcakes. Each swipe and drag of the fabric off your shoulders, back, arms was like a teasing reminder of what neither of you could move fast enough to get to.
You rolled your hips once more and Viktor practically hissed out his exhale.
But that wasn’t the only sound that cut through the room.
“Viktor!” Jayce’s familiar voice called from behind the door. “I think I figured out-”
But you didn’t hear the rest. All you could hear was rustling clothes, a few muttered curses from both you and Viktor, and scurried footsteps. You were still panting when you sat down in a chair a few feet from Viktor. Eyeing the book that contained his “notes,” you slid it beneath your arm, out of view from the man who had just opened the laboratory doors. Viktor shot a what are you doing glance before you greeted Jayce. He didn’t bat an eye at your presence.
“I don’t mean to cut out when it sounds like it’s just getting good, but I’ll leave the scientist-talk to the scientists.” You rose, stealing a glance at where Viktor sat with his legs painfully crossed. Excitement flooded you as you left. You stopped at the door and met Viktor’s gaze. “You can finish telling me about your theory later, Vik. Night you two.”
The doors shut with a satisfying thud behind you.
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bexbaxx · 6 months ago
Hey hi! Could I get Viktor and Silco with a s/o that always stares at them. They think that maybe there's something on there face or maybe they don't find them attractive anymore but it turns out their s/o just thinks they're really handsome and can't stop looking at them.
(Thank you so much for this request, I loved it!)
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• Viktor will probably look right back at you, waiting for you to say something
• "What? Is there something on my face?"
• He's not exactly uncomfortable about it, but he would like to know why you've been staring at him for the past five minutes
• When you tell him you just think he's really handsome, he gets this kind of dumb smile on his face that just won't go away
• Might give you a little wink the next time he catches you staring at him
• He also has a bit of a "staring problem" when it comes to you, too, though he thinks you haven't noticed
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• "Stop doing that."
• Silco gets extremely uncomfortable when you do that, because, yes, it makes him feel a bit self conscious
• His immediate reaction is to start glaring right back at you, and now you're caught in a staring contest that you probably won't win
• When you tell him you just think he's really handsome, he'll roll his eyes and look away, though you do notice there's an air of smugness around him afterwards
• Maybe a bit later he'll sit down with you and mention it, if only to tease you about it
• "So... You think I'm handsome?"
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honeydazai · 5 months ago
when their s/o wears lingerie for them
feat.: Viktor, Jayce Talis, Silco, Vander, Vi, Caitlyn, Mel, Sevika, Jinx
warnings: nsfw content, thigh riding, praise, dirty talk, pet names
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The moment you decide to surprise VIKTOR by showing him your new set of lingerie, his cheeks flush slightly, a smile curling his lips. He's absolutely smitten by you — not only by your beauty, but by your whole presence and by the fact that you've bought lingerie while thinking about him.
He's actually quite good at complimenting you and he truly does his best to keep up a gentlemanly composure, but he soon finds himself unable to keep his hands off of you — not that you want him to do that, either.
Viktor has you lying on your back with him between your legs, from where he slowly kisses his way up your thighs; honestly, he just wants to worship you. You're squirming and mewling beneath him, the thin fabric of your panties drenched as you press against him with need, and he's soon thrusting into you, because he's secretly just as impatient as you are — how could he not be when you're beneath him, looking picture perfect with lace draped over the curve of your hips and tits? Oh, and also, the fantasy of you wearing lingerie beneath your normal clothes to the lab now never leaves his mind anymore.
“Your beauty knows no bounds, dear. You look truly ethereal right now; especially when you're spread open on my cock like this, mewling like a slut. Ah, apologies, I didn't mean to be crude — even though you seemed to like that name given how you just clenched around me.”
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Honestly, JAYCE is absolutely in love with everything you do — and this is no exception. The second you join him in bed while wearing some skimpy lingerie, he's a blushing mess and stumbles over his words as he tries to compliment you. It's not that he's particularly embarrassed; he's simply so enthusiastic that his mind works faster than his mouth does.
He's on you immediately; pinning you to the bed with one of his big hands holding both of your wrists together, and, god, he can barely contain himself — he grinds his hips against yours, already impatient and needy and obviously excited if his hard-on is anything to go by.
Only a few moments later he's thrusting into you, so so eager, and he can't stop staring at your gorgeous body as you moan and writhe beneath him, your head thrown back and your nails digging into his back. He's not particularly possessive — well, most of the time at least, because right now he's sucking hickeys into your skin and littering your throat in bite marks to show everyone you're his.
“God, I can't believe how pretty you are, princess. So gorgeous, I'm so glad I can call you mine. You're the prettiest thing I've ever seen, really; 'm gonna make you feel so good. Gonna mark you up so no one thinks they'd ever have a chance with you.”
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The second you enter his office wearing a huge coat, SILCO knows something's up. He simply raises his eyebrows in question and, as soon as you open the coat to reveal your body clad in nothing but tiny lingerie, hums in appreciation. His gaze is intense as it's fixed on you from his position on his office chair, and he's not opposed to you doing a little twirl to show your outfit off.
Then, he beckons you forward and you're soon propped up on his lap, one of his thighs between yours as you grind down against it, tiny needy whimpers leaving your throat.
It's evident in the frantic way you move that you want more, though Silco only chuckles at your impatience. His hands guide you to rub your cunt against his thigh again, and by the mischievous glint in his eyes you already know it'll take a while until you finally get to have him inside of you.
“Ah, this is certainly a surprise, dear. Did you come all the way to my office looking like this? How very naughty of you. Really, just imagine if someone saw you in these skimpy panties, especially when we both know only I get to look at you this way.”
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VANDER isn't shy to immediately rip your clothes off of you the second he sees the lace of garter belts peek out beneath your skirt — though he tries to be careful if you complain to him about your destroyed clothes. It's not his fault he's this excited, really; he just wants to touch you so bad.
His hands are on your ass, shamelessly groping your soft skin through the fabric, and even though he's the one who's dick is straining against his trousers just because of how pretty you are, he huffs out a teasing laugh as you gasp against his lips.
He doesn't even bother taking the lingerie off — honestly, the fine hooks on your tights are too delicate for his big fingers anyway — and instead just pushes your panties to the side so you're able to ride him.
“Fuck, baby, you're so god damn gorgeous. If I wasn't this hard I'd have you sit on my face right now — god, you're so hot. 'm so lucky you're mine, hope you know that.”
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VI gives an appreciative whistle as you drape yourself over her lap, all dressed up in pretty pink lingerie that wraps around your body. She can't help herself; her hands start wandering almost immediately, even though she had just been focusing on something else a moment ago.
Calloused hands grope your tits through the fabric of your nearly translucent bra, kneading soft skin until you're moaning and grinding against her, your eyes fluttering closed at the sudden pleasure.
Vi quickly scoops you up in her arms and carries you over to your shared bed, spreading your legs for her as she pulls your panties down your thighs. Her warm breath fans against your wet folds, making you whimper — and her laugh. Still, she doesn't feel like teasing you right now and instead swirls her tongue around your clit until you're squirming.
“Damn, doll, all dressed up for me? You shouldn't have. Joking, of course. You should do this way more, like, just look at how good your tits look in this! Fuck, c'mere, baby. Lemme touch you. I'll be damned if I don't eat you out while you're looking this pretty for me.”
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When CAITLYN spots you wearing some lingerie she's never seen before, she's excited and doesn't hesitate to tell you just how pretty you are immediately. When your cheeks flush a lovely red, she chuckles and presses a kiss to your lips.
She's definitely not opposed to go lingerie shopping with you now that she knows you enjoy wearing it — and you could even get matching colours, too!
Caitlyn is quick to move this over to her bed where she positions herself between your legs, a teasing smile on her face as her fingers rub over the already slightly damp fabric of your panties, making you squirm.
“You're so pretty like this, dear. I had no idea you enjoyed getting all dolled up. If only you had said something, we could have done this sooner. Well, anyway — I better show you just how gorgeous I think you are right now, hm? Come on, spread your legs a little wider, love.”
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The moment you enter the bedroom with nothing but sheer lace and frills covering your body, MEL smirks, her expression equally as curious as intense. She's already sitting on the bed, her back against the headpiece, and all you have to do is lay down between her legs to already be in the position you want to be in.
Though Mel doesn't let you get away this easily — she's quick to order you to lay down on your back and takes her sweet time appreciating your pretty underwear and your gorgeous body. She definitely insists on buying you more lingerie in the future.
Her lithe fingers push into your panties to rub tiny circles around your clit, her lips first meeting yours in a kiss before she bends down lower to close them around your nipple, revelling in your whiny mewl.
“You're so pretty, baby. Ah, I how about we go and look for a new set of lingerie for you together tomorrow, hm? What do you think? Because, honestly, I won't go around making promises that this one is going to survive this night.”
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SEVIKA is another one to wolf whistle as soon as she sees you, her eyebrows raised as she smirks. She immediately grabs your hips and lazily pulls you down into her lap, her hands roaming over your body and curiously touching the fine fabric that's draped over your hips and chest.
She's usually not overly fond of lingerie — lace rips way too easily, especially under her mechanic arm —, but she does appreciate it when you get all dressed up for her.
Her lips quickly find your neck as she sucks a visible hickey into your skin, too high to cover it up with any clothing, and two of her fingers move underneath your thin panties and slowly push into you, making you squirm at the stretch, even though you're wet enough for it not to hurt. Quite the opposite — it's simply not enough for your greedy hole, and Sevika huffs out a laugh at how desperate you already are.
“You know, 'm not usually a fan of these fancy topside lingerie sets, but you look as delectable as ever. Hm? Wanna ride my fingers, baby? Come on then, show me how desperate you are.”
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When JINX looks up from her tinkering to glance at you, she can't help but raise her eyebrows in surprise. Then she's smiling and quickly moving towards you, already cooing at you about how pretty you look right now.
She wraps her arms around your body and pulls you closer, her body pressing against yours, and only a few moments later you're both kneeling on the bed, one of her hands fondling with your breast and one teasingly rubbing along your wet folds. She's good at multi-tasking with her hands, and even better at making you whine and whimper beneath her touch.
Jinx might want to add some colour to your lingerie though; it's just so horribly topside-like and boring with it's pastel colour — by the way, are you up for some sexual body painting sessions?
“You're so gorgeous, darl! I love that look on you! Where did ya get it? Ah, come on, you didn't even cum once yet, sugar. I bet you can still answer me properly. Try again, yeah? For me? Then I'll even show you that new toy I've been working on, promise!”
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notes: i've started playing Twisted Wonderland and they're all hot
if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!
tags: @my-awakened-ghost , @afidiofobia , @helloyellowsheeps , @yuuotosaka3, @sccarymonster @satoruislove @pastelsbaby @artsyxabbyx @cyan-skulls @arboranimus @marina-and-the-memes @vislovelywife
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silence-burns · 6 months ago
Viktor: having a crush on you 
Fandom: Arcane 
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Viktor is easy to read, especially once you get to know him better. Even Jayce is able to tell when something starts bothering him.
Viktor enjoys spending time with you. It doesn't matter whether you're talking for hours about your ongoing projects or the two of you are trying to fix issues in one of Viktor's. He doesn't even mind when the lunch breaks turn longer and are spent talking about some little things.
He doesn't always agree with your ideas, but enjoys the whole process of arguing anyway. 
When Viktor and you are working on different projects, he'd often suggest you use the same lab. Just to cut on energy costs, of course. And it's easier to share the tools rather than to have to borrow them all the time. There's absolutely no other reason for it, and if Jayce doesn't wipe that smug little smirk off his face, he'll be the one who will have to find himself a new lab.
Viktor often catches himself staring at you when he knows you're too preoccupied to notice. He doesn't know why, but the sight of you deep in thought, or cursing quietly in front of a blackboard covered in writing makes him feel warm inside. 
Viktor would listen carefully whenever you mentioned having a particular interest in something. He might not share much with you, but he'd still make the effort to learn a little about it. Watching your excitement is enough of a reward for a short research.
Talking to you makes him happy, but despite knowing you for years, he still gets irrationally nervous sometimes. 
It usually happens when he suddenly finds himself too close to you and freezes. Or when you touch him briefly without paying much attention to it. Viktor notices all the small gestures and appreciates them, but freezes anyway.
His fair complexion doesn't help to hide his blushing, and realizing that only makes things worse for Viktor.
Jayce is having the time of his life. He frequently takes you both to one of the students' bars near the Academia "for a warm cup of tea or a beer at the end of the day", and then once you're all seated in the crowded main room, he conveniently disappears for half an hour. It's truly a wonder how long it can take to put a simple order, but Viktor isn't angry.
It gives him a good opportunity to talk to you in a different scenery. If it's loud inside, it's all the more reason to sit close together. Just to hear each other talk over all the noise, of course.
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thedreamlessnights · a month ago
For the writing prompts,
I’d love to see 128 with Viktor!! I could see either him or reader saying it and both have so much potential haha
Thank you and @glitteriztical for requesting... the exact same prompt! Thank you also to @dicax-asina, @basichextechml, and @heraldeez for your help with this! It was fun (and painful) to write and I may have taken the angsty route, but there's a happy ending! I hope you enjoy! Prompt 128: "You're pretty." - "You're drunk."
I've drunk the wine of ages || Viktor x Fem!Reader || 6.4k || SFW
Warnings: angst related to rejected affection (with a happy ending), mentions of alcohol and drinking, some self-deprecation related to loneliness and bad decisions.
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You’ve had one too many drinks tonight.
In your defense, this night has been hell, and the honeyed wine has been a salve for all your suffering. A balm that soothes the ache that’s sat in your chest all night - one that had throbbed against your ribs even before this event started. 
Yearning. A familiar feeling, but especially strong tonight. Especially painful.
Peace has been nonexistent since you met Viktor. You’d deemed it infatuation at first, but it’s something more simplistic than that, beyond even admiration, or devotion. 
You truly care about him. More than you’d like to admit. No matter how hard you try to shove your feelings behind the guise of professionalism… it just won’t go away. 
Earlier tonight, though it feels like years ago - when Jayce had been teasing you and Viktor had quietly been straightening his tie in the mirror - that familiar pain had bloomed its way into your chest. Strangled you, like that of a weed. Fisted its ravenous roots around your lungs.
Even in the mirror, above the deep blue of his blazer, the gold of Viktor’s eyes glittered - matching the delicate embroidery on his suit. A simple framing of gold fabric against cobalt, with layers of embellishments - gilded buttons, aureate thread. 
I need a drink, you’d thought, when he’d turned around. Handsome, in all his glory, hair combed neatly but still fluffed out around his ears. He met your eyes with a smile - though, he always hated things like this, and you knew him well enough to see his annoyance written under the soft turn of his lips.
At the time, you’d thought that would be the end of your pain for the night. 
A foolish thing to think, considering, but the thought had been genuine. In fact, you’d actually been grateful when you’d first gotten to the event, thinking that the amount of people there would give you some relief from your aching. That you might be free of Viktor’s presence on your mind for a night, and enjoy yourself.
Instead, you watch as piles and piles of people flit around him the whole evening, eyeing him the way you wish you could. Unabashedly, with want written behind their gaze. The higher, light voices carry over to you. Laughter that’s too strong. An unnecessary touch on the arm. A man leaning into his ear to deliver a witty quip. A woman, eyes focused only on his lips.
That’s all you can take before you pour yourself a drink. It turns into two more. 
Then you lose count. 
You’re a bit of a lightweight, but this wine is not meant for drunkenness. With a couple drinks, it only delivers a light buzz, if anything. And, to your credit, you can barely keep your eyes off Viktor, so it’s not exactly like you’re keeping track. 
It’s not that many, really. You’re not drunk. Yet.
But your thoughts are disturbed by Jayce’s presence at your side. He calls your name, gripping your shoulder.
“Hey, are you alright?” he asks softly. “Do you want me to walk you back to your room?”
“I’m fine, Jayce,” you hiss. But it’s too late. It seems like everyone in the room has heard Jayce’s words, and they all seem to look at you with the same expression. Ridicule. Pity. Condescension written behind their eyes. 
When you realize that even Viktor has taken notice of you, embarrassment floods you whole, hot and prickling at your neck. He gives you a questioning look, but you just shake your head, grip tightening on your glass.
“I can handle myself,” you say, more for yourself than anyone else, and you ignore Jayce’s protests as you make your way across the room.
Alright, maybe it was two drinks too many. Your feet feel unstable. The room rocks itself around you, and you have to fight to keep yourself upright. Still, you make it to the balcony safely, and dump the rest of your wine into the bushes below you. 
It’s probably not good for the plants - but then again, it’s fermented grapes and honey. How bad can it be?
Emotion hits you suddenly, and you find that you can't breathe. The fresh, cool air isn’t even helping. All you want is to be with Viktor, for him to want you the way you want him, and for everyone else to know. Is it so hard for someone to want you? Are you so unlovable, that no one should ever look your way, and want you in the way you want them?
You want to be home. You’re sick of this party. Why had you even come, anyway? What were you expecting?
From behind comes the sound of your name, and its softness makes the aching flame up again. Viktor. Your emotions have become fiery, boiling into your blood, raging through you uncontrolled. You wish you hadn’t dumped your wine. 
“Are you alright?” Viktor asks. “Jayce is worried about you.”
You almost say something you regret. Something harsh and cruel, and admittedly unwarranted. You only just manage to reel yourself in. 
“Thank you, but I’m alright,” you say. You just barely have the aftersight to be proud of yourself.
You can hear him hesitate - the shifting of his weight before he sighs. 
“Are you?”
Your grip on the fencing of the balcony tightens. Does he have to be so persistent?
“Yes.” You take in a breath, trying to cool your mind. “Thank you for checking on me, but you should get back to the party.”
There’s a beat before he answers.
“Normally, I would,” he starts, “but it doesn’t seem as if you’re really as alright as you want me to believe.” He pauses for a moment. “May I stay with you for a moment?”
Tears sting at your eyes as he settles in next to you, and they refuse to be blinked away.
“Viktor, you don’t understand,” you say, voice cracking - more humiliation, seeping down your spine. And he really doesn’t understand, can’t, in fact. He can’t know the way it hurts you that you can’t have him - or, how the millions of signs that he doesn’t want you have ripped you to shreds over the years. Even just looking at him hurts.
“Perhaps not,” Viktor replies. “But I can listen.”
The tears are streaming their way down your cheek by now. Viktor reaches out to wipe them away, but you flinch out of his reach. You don’t know what you’d do if he touched you right now, but it wouldn’t be good. 
“What don’t I understand?” Viktor presses, his tone gentle. It should be soothing - sweet. Instead, it cuts through you. Bares you away, piece by piece. You can’t find it in you to respond.
“Let me walk you home,” Viktor tries, and this time you nod.
You want to be home, tucked away safe under your blankets. You want it to stop hurting. You want Viktor to be far away from you, to give you space to suffer as you please.
When you wipe your cheek, you find mascara smeared along your hand - and, presumably your face. On the menu tonight, death by a thousand cuts of humiliation seems to be your main entree.
Viktor, meanwhile, has retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket, and approaches you again.
“May I?” he asks.
Which is worse? Viktor touching you, or the whole floor of people seeing that you got drunk at a party then cried?
You’ll take the touch. You nod. 
His touch on you is gentle, the brush of the fabric tender against your cheek. It almost makes you cry again, but you’re thankfully spared on that account. Then, Viktor gives you a smile - eyes crinkling at the corners - and tucks the cloth back into his pocket.
“There,” he says. “Now, let’s get you home.”
You almost make it home without embarrassing yourself. You get all the way to your door in complete silence, but Viktor hasn’t seemed to let up on his stubbornness yet.
“I know there are some things I don’t understand,” he starts, voice soft as velvet. “But I am here. For anything.”
Those words make your chest ache all over again. How could you ever explain?
“Viktor, I…” Your words trail off for a moment. “You just don’t have any idea. What you do to people.”
Well, that came out wrong.
His eyes widen, and you’re immediately trying to correct yourself.
“I don’t - I mean, not in a bad way. I just… I mean…” You have to stop for a moment, trying so desperately to think of how to redeem what you’d just said. “It’s not your fault, I just…”
There’s a terrible, helpless moment as you try to find words but none come.
“I think we’d better call it for the night,” Viktor says, and his tone has taken on a certain tightness. 
“That’s not what I meant, Viktor, I just - I mean that you’re… distracting. You’re really smart, and nice, and… you look nice, too. You’re… pretty.”
“And you,” Viktor says softly, “are drunk.” He gives an exhale, shaking his head. “It’s best not to continue when you’ll regret all of this in the morning.”
“Viktor- ”
“Don’t worry,” he says. “Tomorrow, I’ll act like nothing’s happened, and you won’t remember any of this. Good night.”
You watch him walk away. ─────────────────────
The next morning when you wake, a fuzz of nausea and a pounding headache, you find that he was wrong. You remember everything in excruciating detail.
The party. Getting drunk. What you’d said to Viktor. 
You’re spared on no account. It won’t stop playing in your mind, over and over again, as though you might be able to reach a hand into your memory, grasp the words you hated so much, and shift the outcome. To stop yourself.
Will he hate you now?
It’s bad enough not having Viktor when you want him. It’s so much worse to lose him completely. It’s not like you can kid yourself that you’re somehow not the weakest link of Hextech - without you, they’d be fine. They’d built up this company from nothing but an idea and some loose experiments, and you were a convenient addition. They could probably find someone else for the job today, and you wouldn’t blame them if they did.
You’d embarrassed them. Both of them, at a Hextech event. 
Oh, Janna.
Please don’t let them fire me.
You’re already late for the work day, and you know that you must look like a complete mess right now. You’d collapsed into bed with your dress and makeup still on, and you’re pretty sure you look like a zombie. 
You might as well take a little longer and at least look somewhat presentable.
Sitting up brings a round of dizziness, but you ignore it in favor of your determination to make things right. You swallow down some medication for your headache, drink ridiculous amounts of water, shower and dress in something professional, and make yourself some breakfast.
At the end of it all, you almost feel like a person again.
Now comes your redemption. Somehow.
When you’ve arrived, you push open the door of the lab and find that it’s completely empty.
Of all the scenarios you’d prepared yourself for, this is not one of them.
“Jayce?” you call. “...Viktor?”
There’s no response.
You release your bag onto your desk with a distinctive clunk, the sound echoing in the emptiness of the room around you. The silence is thick in the air. It even seems to eat at your lungs.
The harshness of your breathing is jagged against the void of nothingness, but it’s better than the silence.
Smoothing down your clothes, you take a seat and open your notebook.
It’s fine, you tell yourself. They just went out for coffee. They’ll be back soon.
Five minutes tick away into ten, then into twenty. You can’t stop tapping your pencil against your paper. Every time you write, your notebook rips.
“Okay,” you say, eyeing the glittering gemstone a few feet in front of you. “They’re not coming back.” You let it sit for a moment, then go on. “If they were even here.”
Pushing your chair away from the desk with a screech, you gather up your things, sling your bag over your shoulder, and leave.
At least, you mean to. 
Then you see Viktor, leaning against the wall in the hallway. The white button down he’s wearing is slightly wrinkled and rolled up to his elbows, a hint of his clavicle peeking out from underneath the maroon of his vest. He’s holding a cup of coffee, a bag of pastries draped over his elbow, and his other hand placed on his cane. His attention is fixed toward the kitchen - where you can hear Jayce excitedly rambling about something.
You do what you know best.
Unfortunately, that panic means that your legs start moving toward him, despite all your logic telling you to move away. There’s a moment where he sees you and his face falls, and you really think that might kill you.
“Good morning,” he says. “Or… afternoon, rather.”
“Made it out of bed?” Jayce asks, grinning at you from the doorway of the kitchen. “I know I almost didn’t.”
“Yes,” Viktor states dryly, “Jayce is nursing a… tender hangover today.”
As much as you want to, you can’t talk to him here. Not in front of Jayce. How the hell are you going to get him alone? You need to properly apologize, or you’ll never forgive yourself.
“I have some medication in my bag,” you offer Jayce, but he just shakes his head. 
“You look like you need it more than me,” he says.
You wince. 
“Besides, that’s what coffee is for, right?” he continues.
“Right.” You laugh awkwardly, then go quiet. 
The moment turns sour as more silence settles in. None of you seem to know what to say. 
Viktor looks pointedly at the wall. Jayce pours himself more coffee. You reach for your bag, pulling at it to relieve the strain on your shoulder.
“Do you guys know if you’ll be coming back to the lab soon?” you ask. 
“Definitely,” Jayce replies. “I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but any progress is better than none. Maybe just… more coffee first.”
Both of you look to Viktor.
“Yes,” he says. “I’d better… head in now.”
You leap at the opportunity, trying not to seem desperate.
“Do you mind if I come with you?” you ask. 
“You don’t have to ask.” He meets your eyes briefly, then looks down to adjust the bag of pastries.
“See you two in there,” Jayce says, tilting his mug instead of waving. Then he draws a hand over his face, grimacing - perhaps at the harshness of the lights.
That’s the last you see of him before you’re rushing after Viktor, watching the repetitive motion of his cane clicking over the floor. 
“I’m sorry I was late,” you say breathlessly, pulling the bag further up your shoulder. It’s really beginning to ache now, but that can be ignored.
“You don’t have to be sorry about that,” Viktor replies. “Jayce was late as well.”
“Yes, well, there are a lot of things I’m sorry for.”
He halts for a moment, seeming to know what you’re saying, then shakes his head. 
“I should be the one apologizing,” he says. His tone softens. “I was… very rude to you. I’m sorry.”
“I was the rude one,” you protest. Viktor opens the door of the lab for you, and you hurry in, dropping your bag on your desk before turning back to him. “I know I was drunk, but it… it came out wrong. That’s not what I meant.”
Viktor gazes at you a moment, brows pinching together. Then he carefully sets down the pastries and his coffee at his desk and gives a sigh.
“May I ask what you meant to say, then?”
Your lips part, intent on answering him, but a sound behind you halts your actions. The door swings open and both of you freeze.
“Alright,” Jayce says, rubbing his hands together. “Time for progress.”
Two hours bleed by, each second wearing you thin. You feel like a shell of yourself by the time Jayce groans, plopping his head on the desk.
“I’m not even making progress,” he says. “I’ve been rereading the same sentence for the last two hours.”
“Go home, Jayce,” Viktor prompts, voice gentle. “Rest.”
Jayce doesn’t need to be told twice. He rises, stretching his arms up toward the ceiling, grabs his things, and waves.
“See you guys tomorrow, then?”
“Yeah,” you murmur, hands beginning to clam up. “See you then.”
The door closes after him, and it leaves the two of you in an ear-piercing silence, pinning you to your chair. It must last maybe ten, fifteen seconds before Viktor speaks.
“You were saying?”
You clear your throat, fear fluttering in your stomach, your grip tightening on the desk. Can’t get any worse than last night, right? 
“What I meant to say is that - that…” And your voice hitches, and your heart feels like it’s breaking your ribs, and you can’t, for the life of you, meet his gaze. “I like you, Viktor. A lot. So, when I said that you - do things to people, I meant that they… want you. Like me.”
“You… want me?” Viktor repeats softly.
You can only nod, finally meeting his gaze.
“I - I…” 
He hesitates, and the wait eats you alive. Please, you manage to think. Don’t hate me.
Viktor takes in a deep, methodical breath, drumming his fingers against the desk as if deciding what to say. “I am flattered,” he decides on, “but I… feel that… our… relationship should remain - strictly professional.”
The way your stomach sinks is unlike any other. Unprecedented. You’ve heard those words before, conjured up in the back of your imagination, words you’d give anything to unhear. You’d known this was a possibility, but it’s so much worse in the flesh. 
So much worse having to respond. Knowing that this is your reality - that any dwindling hope you might have had is washed away, swirling out of you, carried in the foamy waters of Viktor’s words.
“Of course,” you manage, words shaky. “Of course.” And you immediately take to burying yourself in your notes, tears burning at the rims of your eyes. It takes every ounce of your being not to cry - to invest your mind into your work, instead of what Viktor said.
You know that the moment you’re alone, it’ll hit you like a brick, but he’s already seen you cry once. You’d rather not repeat that experience - not when the touch of his handkerchief had burned you like a poker, searing against your cheek.
When it finally gets late enough for you to leave, you pack up your things, hands still shaking, a lump knotted into your throat, pulled tight, like a ribbon. As soon as you undo it, you know it’ll tear you apart.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you breathe, pushing your hair out of your face.
Viktor gives you a nod, barely looking at you before returning to his notes.
The tears are flowing even as you walk down the hallway, trying to compose yourself but failing miserably. Thank Janna no one sees you on your way out. The halls are deserted at this hour.
Returning home like this is somehow even worse than last night. You could kick yourself for getting drunk like that. And now, telling him you’d wanted him. Why hadn’t you just… said that you admire him? How could you be so stupid?
He’s never going to talk to you again. You wouldn’t even be surprised if this was the final straw into you losing your job.
You’d give anything for this not to be real, but the pinching of your arm brings a very real, very sharp pain that you can’t deny. This is happening, no matter how much of a nightmare it seems.
In an attempt to distract yourself from the unbearable amounts of grief you’re experiencing, you find yourself scouring through job listings, tears streaming down your cheeks, puffing up your face.
Somewhere far away from here, you think. Where Jayce’s face isn’t plastered over every building. Where you won’t be reminded of the way Viktor barely looked at you every time the Hex Gates get used.
A few listings catch your eye. A dock worker for Bilgewater. A secretarial position in Noxus. A librarian for Piltover. Not ideal, but, well… better than Hextech. You send in your applications, grab a bottle of wine, and cry instead of drinking it.
You don’t ever want to be drunk again. You know that you’d only feel worse, and the way you’re feeling is bad enough. His words keep playing back to you, over and over again, relentless even as you clasp your hands over your ears.
A useless shield from your own thoughts.
He doesn’t want you. He hates you. You ruined everything. 
And you have no defense from yourself. His expression had been so… shut off when you’d left. You’ve never seen him like that. Even when you’d been drunk, when he’d thought you hated him, he hadn’t been so closed off.
So you cry. And cry. And cry. 
Your eyes swell, and your head aches like it’s been cracked open, and your nose won’t stop running - deeming the need for tissue after tissue, tossed into the trash. And even after all of that, it doesn’t soothe the deep ache in your chest, the hurt that seems to bleed out of you.
You just can’t stop.
Eventually, you change into the comfiest pair of clothes you own, tuck yourself into the blankets, and cry yourself to sleep.
The next few weeks are hell.
You don’t get fired, but you don’t need to. Viktor barely speaks to you - not unless he has to. That lump in your throat remains permanent, and most nights you go home, you end up crying yourself to sleep.
Unreciprocated feelings, you could deal with. But this? Acting as if you’re strangers, or worse? Knowing that Viktor must despise you?
It makes you want to carve your emotions out of yourself with a butter knife and set them down neatly on a plate, never to feel again. Numbness cannot be worse than this. You’re absolutely sure of that.
Another formal Hextech event passes. This time you don’t get drunk, but it hardly matters. Viktor stays on the other side of the room, people fawning over him all night. 
And that’s the final straw. You can’t stay here any longer, not when it’s like this. 
But how the hell do you just… quit? What are you going to tell Jayce? Where will you go?
And two more days pass, the words choking in your throat, not wanting to escape your lips.
And then, one day, a letter comes for you. A thick letter, with the shining gold symbol of Noxus imprinted in it.
You’re opening it right away, eyes flitting over the words without any mind to where you are. It’s about your application for the secretary position, but it contains something even better. An offer to work among the Noxian scientists. They’d seen your experience with Hextech, and they’d pay you well.
Very well. More than you make now. 
And not here, with Viktor’s silence tormenting you every day.
You must reread it a dozen times, hands shaking as you process the fact that you’ll have to leave. To likely never see Jayce or Viktor again. 
“A letter from Noxus?” Viktor asks. You look up to find his gaze fixed on you, golden and deep. He’d been observing you the one time you hadn’t wanted him to. 
“Is it about Hextech?” he adds.
Jayce has turned his interest toward you as well, gazing keenly from you to the letter you’re holding.
You quickly set it down.
“I- It’s a job offer,” you say softly. “They’re… offering me a position in the Noxian labs.”
Viktor’s expression doesn’t imperceptibly change, but there’s something that shifts in him as you say that, something you can’t really explain. 
He gazes at you for a moment, then inhales deeply and gives a brief nod of his head.
“Ah. I see.”
There’s a silence as he returns to his notes.
“Are you going to take the job?” Jayce asks.
The disappointment in his expression makes you feel incredibly, awfully guilty. You don’t even know how to answer. You can’t pretend it isn’t tempting you. But is it really worth it?
Yes, your mind sings. No more pain. 
At your silence, Jayce clears his throat. “I couldn’t blame you if you did,” he says. “There are a lot of opportunities at Noxus. And… Well, I know they must pay more. So. If you wanted to leave, we’d understand.”
You turn your gaze to Viktor, whose grip has tightened on his pencil. He continues to write vigorously, the harshness of it tearing through his paper. Then the pencil snaps.
You all flinch, including Viktor, whose cheeks have flushed, soft pink against porcelain.
“I…” Viktor says, but he doesn’t finish. He just shuts his eyes, pinching his brow, still holding half of his pencil.
“Vik?” Jayce asks, concern pressing into his brow. “You okay?”
Viktor just shakes his head, taking in a shaky breath. “Excuse me,” he finally says, reaching for his cane. “I have… pressing business to attend to.”
He’s leaving before you can even reply to what he’d said.
You don’t see him for the rest of the day. Wherever he’s gone off to, he doesn’t appear to be coming back.
His absence drives you insane - an itch deep under your skin that you can’t scratch. Is he upset with you for leaving? What else are you supposed to do - tolerate his coldness? Pretend like it isn’t ripping you apart every time you see him, a new dagger of ice in your ribs every day?
No. You can’t. Not like this. Not when he treats you as if you aren’t there most days. Not when you both know how you feel. Even Jayce had said that he’d understand if you left. 
Hope flutters under your ribs for a moment. Could Viktor be upset because -? but you shove it down.
No. He’d given you his answer. 
When it gets late, you pack up your things, bid Jayce goodnight, and head home, tucking the letter under your arm.
It takes you two hours to decide that you’ll do it. You’ll quit, and take the position at Noxus. Two hours of remembering how these past few weeks have been - how cold, how awful, how dejected. 
You write your acceptance letter to Noxus, packing it into a neat envelope before sending it out. Then you pen your resignation letter for Hextech. 
You try not to think of how crestfallen Jayce had looked, or the way Viktor’s pencil had snapped. You try not to think of the flush on Viktor’s cheeks, or the undeniable bitterness behind his words before he’d left, or how much you still want him, even after everything.
You’re so tired of crying. 
You put up a shield instead, masking your feelings behind logic. You’re allowed to take this job. It pays more, Jayce had said so himself. You’re not an awful person for leaving. You’re only doing what’s best for yourself. 
That logical mask remains until the next day, when you find Viktor alone in the lab, looking unkempt and exhausted. Dark circles rim his under eyes, his hair sticking up in all directions. You look away briefly, then gather the strength to meet his eyes. You’d hoped that you’d be handing this to Jayce, but since he’s not here, you have to work with what you have.
“I… wanted to hand in my resignation,” you say. “I’ve decided to take the position at Noxus.”
Viktor gently takes the paper from you, eyes flitting over the words before he sets it down. His shoulders seem to slump, but you pretend not to notice, a lump growing in your throat.
“Thank you for this opportunity,” you manage to choke out, the rehearsed words spilling from you. “I can’t tell you how helpful it was.”
Viktor just nods, his gaze still fixed toward your letter.
“You’ve always… stood out,” he says. “Your talent. Noxus is right to see it.”
He doesn’t sound bitter, like he had the day before. Instead, he sounds… exhausted. Worn down. Like he’s lost all the fight in him.
“Thank you,” you murmur. “I appreciate that.”
You hesitate, wanting to say more, but not knowing what to say.
“Good luck at Noxus,” he says. “I don’t doubt you will excel.” ─────────────────────
You might resist the urge to cry when you pack up your things from the lab and hug Jayce goodbye - he’d found you in the hallway as you were leaving - but by the time you’re home, you’re sobbing again.
“Oh, for Janna’s sake,” you mutter. “Haven’t I cried enough?”
But this feels different. This feels utterly permanent. Sharp pain, not dull or throbbing. You can barely hold yourself together, and for some reason, despite all the logic you’d had last night and this morning, it feels like you’ve made the wrong decision.
Still, you can’t exactly go crawling back to Hextech. You’d accepted the job at Noxus, and you’re leaving, for better or worse. 
You work your way into the night - packing up boxes, throwing things away, trying not to cry at the sight of memories. A picture of you and Viktor - one that Jayce had taken when you’d first started. He looks so different than how he’d looked today. For one, he’s smiling, eyes bright. You’re smiling too. You’d been so excited to get the position - it had been your dream. 
You’d worked so hard. Been so nervous in the interview that you’d spilled coffee all over yourself, leaving a sepia stain on your skirt. 
But the two of them had been so friendly. Viktor had grabbed you some napkins to help clean up. Jayce had dabbed up the coffee that’d gone on the floor. You’d all laughed it off, and spent the night talking about research until Jayce finally told you you’d gotten the job.
How had it come to this? Sitting alone on your floor sniffling, packing up to leave, never to see Jayce or Viktor again? How had you been reduced to a nobody with a crush on Viktor that hurt you so badly that you couldn’t even focus on your work?
Maybe Noxus will be a good thing. Maybe there, you’ll have a fresh start, and you won’t have to worry about anything else. Maybe.
That thought is the only thing that keeps you packing.
It starts pouring rain outside - heavy, pounding down against the pavement. It’s so rare that it rains here. Eventually, it lightens a little, but it’s still coming down. You can hear the patter of it against your windows.
What if this isn’t the right choice? What if you’re making a horrible mistake?
And, as if on cue, a knock sounds at your door.
You start, getting to your feet before moving to open it. Is it Jayce, maybe? Had you forgotten something at the lab?
But when you pull it open, you find Viktor. He’s soaking wet from the rain - completely drenched, his white button-down plastered to his chest and see-through, strands of dark hair clinging to his forehead. He’s tossing his cane back and forth in his hands - a nervous habit of his that you’ve seen too many times to count.
“Viktor?” you ask. “What are you doing here?” 
You’re too shocked to say anything else. Instead you stay frozen at the door, looking at him.
He gazes at you desperately, but only says your name. 
He’s shivering.
“I… wait, what am I doing?” you ask, stirring from your trance. “Come in out of the rain! I’ll get you a towel.”
You leave the door open behind you, and Viktor follows you in, dripping water onto your floor. 
You’re immediately rushing to find a towel among the half-packed boxes, pulling out a clean, fluffy one for him to use.
“Here,” you prompt, handing it over to him. His hand lingers on yours as he takes it, tucking it under his arm but not using it.
“Thank you,” he says. He goes back to fidgeting with his cane.
You’ve never seen him like this. It’s scaring you.
“Are you alright?” you ask. “Are you hurt? Do you need a doctor? Should I call someone?”
Viktor just shakes his head. 
You hesitate, then take a seat on the couch, watching him. 
“Can I… ask what this is about?”
Viktor takes in a deep, shuddering breath, closing his eyes and pinching his nose, just like he had yesterday.
“I…” he starts, the word hesitant. Then he shakes his head again, steadying his cane on the floor, opening his eyes and looking directly at you. 
“I’ve been trying for these past few months to shut my feelings away, but I can’t. These past few days, especially. I - I know the offer at Noxus is very, very good. I should want you to take it. But I don’t.” 
He breathes in, hand shaking on top of his cane, voice going soft as he continues. 
“What you said to me those weeks ago… I've never been able to get it out of my mind. I've felt the same, always. Since you started. But I never had the courage to... pursue those feelings. Now you're leaving, and I can't help but feel that I've made a horrible mistake. 
“I cannot tell you how sorry I am. How much I regret the way I’ve behaved. I cannot make up for it enough. Please. Allow me to tell you how fervently I admire you.” 
His chest rises and falls again - another inhale. 
“I love you,” he says. “I can’t pretend I don’t anymore. I do. I don’t care if - if I’m not being professional. If there's any part of you that still wants to stay, I must be selfish and ask you to remain at Hextech. Stay."
Your shock is beyond words. 
It pins you to your seat. Freezes time. Turns you to ice, then the consistency of syrup, then roaring flame. All you can do is stare at him, feeling like you’re melting into your couch. This can’t be real.
But it is.
His eyes are wide as he waits for you to answer, still trembling, face white as a ghost. You know that feeling. You’ve been there before. Everything he’d just said - every single word - it’s what you’d been wanting then. 
He wants you.
Loves you. He’d told you he loves you.
Janna. Is this real?
You pinch yourself again. There comes the pain. The sharp pain, but this time it’s not a nightmare turned real - it’s a lovely dream. 
Viktor huffs as he watches you, a dry, disbelieving chuckle, but remains where he is.
And so you finally manage to get to your feet, albeit unsteadily. Daring to approach him as he breathes in, still out of breath. The want in his gaze is unmistakable. 
You don’t have words for him. Those aren’t coming to you quite yet. So you give him what you can.
Cautiously, you place a hand on his chest, still soaked to the bone. Then you lean in a little closer, nose brushing against his.
Viktor gets the message. He kisses you.
How does it feel like to kiss someone who’s soaking wet? Someone who survives on coffee, and probably hasn’t slept in a good twenty-four hours?
It feels wonderful.
You don’t care that he’s wet - you don’t care that you’ve started crying, tears streaming down your cheeks. All you care about is the way he reaches for you, entangling you in his arms, cane clattering to the floor.
Despite everything, he’s warm - warm lips pressed to yours, warm skin under your palm. Your hands tangle in the mop of his hair, and you pull away to laugh, nudging your nose against his cheek.
“You’re really good at making me cry, you know that?” you ask, brushing tears from your cheek. 
Viktor frowns, but you pull him in for another kiss before he can start apologizing again. 
Then another. 
Then another. 
Beneath the coffee, you taste alcohol on his tongue - just a hint, but unmistakable. 
“Are you drunk?” you pull away to ask, slightly out of breath.
“No,” he says, scowling. “One glass of wine. For courage.”
“It must have warmed you up,” you tease, reaching down for the towel that’d fallen out of his grasp. You take it in your hands and towel his hair until it’s some semblance of dry. It fluffs up, looking wild until you manage to tame it into its usual disarray - sticking up by the ears. 
Viktor leans into your touch, keeping his eyes closed until you’re done.
“I don’t think that rain is stopping any time soon,” you tell him. “Why don’t you stay the night, and tomorrow I’ll write to Noxus to let them know that I won’t be taking that position?”
“Yes,” Viktor agrees, giving you a soft smile. “I like that plan.”
He entwines his hand with yours, grip warm and firm against your palm. Then he hesitates.
“That night - when you were drunk. You said I was… pretty. Do you really think that about me?”
You laugh, cradling his cheek with your free hand. 
“Of course,” you say. “I’ve always thought that.”
“You… you were drunk,” Viktor says, and his cheeks have flushed a deep pink. “I wasn’t sure if I’d even heard it right, much less if you meant it.”
“I definitely meant it. I love you, too, you know.”
All the tension releases from Viktor’s shoulders.
“I am very glad to hear that,” he says.
And he pulls you in for another kiss.
Two weeks later, things have gone back to a relative state of normal.
Jayce had accepted your re-application to Hextech with a bone-crushing hug and a huge smile.
Noxus, on the other hand, had expressed their deep disappointment at your refusal, extending an open-ended invitation to come back if you ever wanted, though you doubt you’ll ever take them up on that. 
As for you and Viktor, well, the two of you have spent the last two weeks with hardly a moment apart.
It’s a little strange to confess your love before a first date, but you wouldn’t have it any other way as you wait on the corner, bouncing on your heels with excitement.
Coffee. Of course he’d invited you out for coffee.
He looks tired as he approaches, but he lights up when he sees you, pulling you in for a quick kiss.
“Ready, my love?” he asks.
And the two of you head into the coffee shop, notes from the lab tucked under your arm, ready for another day of Hextech.
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aerynwrites · a month ago
Victor x reader - brushing hair behind the reader’s ear or stroking their cheek when he thinks they’re asleep
I kind of went…overboard with this request so I apologize for that my friend 😂 the prompt comes in towards the end of the one shot. I hope you enjoy!
Seeds of Love
Viktor x Female!Reader
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Word Count: 3.5k
Warnings: unrequited(?) love, but not really, misunderstandings, out of context conversations, emotional hurt/comfort, love confessions.
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The Gala is still in full swing, even though it has been several hours since it started. Fancy drinks flowed in abundance along with dainty hors d'oeuvres and a buffet of food that never seemed to diminish, no matter how much people ate.
High society parties are still something you haven't quite gotten used to, no matter how many times you've been brought as a plus one by Viktor or Jayce. Yet, you loved them all the same. 
Maybe not the parties themselves. Quite frankly, you find them suffocating and filled with too many people who never say what they're honestly thinking.
Too many people fawn over Jayce, the Golden Boy of Piltover, while completely ignoring Viktor or turning their nose up at him whenever Jayce tries to include him. It always infuriates you because you see the important things in Viktor. 
That's the only reason you agree to come to these events anyway. To spend more time with him. And the fact that you know he appreciates not being completely alone throughout the night as Jayce is pulled in a million directions. So, more often than not, you get to spend ample time alone with the Hextech partner, just like now. 
After Jayce was pulled away yet again, you and Viktor retreated to a small balcony. The doors have been propped open, allowing the cool evening air to circulate through the crowded room.
Viktor sighs as you both step out into the open air, and you can't help but agree with his nonverbal relief. Inside was entirely too stuffy, and you could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on from all of the rich perfumes assaulting your senses and the constant hum of conversation and music. 
"Remind me why I continue to come to these dreadful events," Viktor says sitting on a cushioned bench facing the city landscape.
A huff of laughter escapes your lips.
"Because Jayce asks you too," you say, gathering your dress in your hands before taking the unoccupied space beside him.
"And you get to spend time with me." You nudge his arm playfully as you tease. 
The inventor's lips twitch up into a smile as he looks over at you.
"Your company is much preferred to Jayce's, especially considering he is never by my side much at these events."
Taking a sip from the champagne flute in your other hand, you try in vain to stop the butterflies that flutter in your tummy. You want more than anything for his words to mean more than they do.
Your feelings for him have been shoved down since the moment you met him, and as time goes on, you are finding it harder and harder to hide your affections. 
In truth, you've always found the man intriguing. Being friends with Caitlyn Kiramman had inadvertently brought you into the two Hextech creators' lives. And as Caitlyn was to Jayce, you were to Viktor, eventually.
Viktor hadn't said much to you initially, as there wasn't much to say. You had studied Botany at the Academy and are now head of the department, which is vastly different from Hextech. Yet, as Caitlyn was talking to Jayce, you had found your way over to Viktor, who sat hunched over at his desk, muttering to himself about something. He startled when you asked him what he was working on, and the man seemed shocked you were even remotely interested in his work. But as soon as he got started, he didn't stop, telling you about their next project and answering all the questions you had. 
Curiosity led to friendship with Viktor and…something much more for you.
Something you had hoped he would return if you could just find it in you to talk to him about it.
But every time you had an opportunity, you were alone, or he was with you in your greenhouse…you couldn't do it. The words would be right there on the tip of your tongue, and then he would look at you, and they would die in your throat. Golden eyes filled with excitement or happiness would stop you from ever saying anything in fear of ruining what you already have. 
Like right now. 
Viktor has moved on to talk about what he and Jayce plan on tackling next. A larger version of a teleportation portal they have been working on. The Hexgates is what they plan to call them once they get them working correctly.
Viktor is always so animated when he talks about his work; his face lights up, his hands move around frantically in the air…and you want nothing more than for him to talk about you that way.
As selfish as that may sound. 
You almost do it again. Almost manage to tell him how you feel when there is a lull in his speech. Finally, you actually start this time; you can feel your lips part as you speak, your heart thudding in your chest.
He looks at you, brows raising in question and a silent request for you to continue. And you just about have the words out when a familiar presence stumbles out onto the balcony, a broad grin on his face.
"There you two are!" Jayce's voice is booming in the soft silence of the balcony, and you can't help the way your shoulders fall slightly at his appearance. 
Another chance was gone. 
Viktor rolls his eyes.
"You act as if we left you to the wolves."
Jayce scoffs, strolling over to stand in front of you.
"You kind of did,” he defends, leaning against the balcony’s railing. "I have had to explain our next Hextech project like fifteen times. It's exhausting."
You move to take another sip of champagne only to notice that your glass is empty. Frowning at the offending object you stand up and send Jayce a smile.
"Sounds like you need a drink. I need to refresh my own anyways." You turn to Viktor. 
"Would you like anything?" 
He shakes his head, waving his hand dismissively.
"No, thank you." He gives you a polite smile. "I could go with you if you'd like?"
Butterflies start up again, and you try to school your reaction slightly.
"Yeah, I wouldn't mind-"
Jayce cuts in.
"Actually, I was hoping to talk to Viktor about something, if you don't mind?" 
You glance from the taller man back to Viktor, a slight sense of disappointment tugging at your chest.
"Yeah, of course. I'll be right back."
The two men give you short nods as you turn back into the building to seek out one of the waiters handing out champagne.
The search takes longer than expected, and the whole time you try to think of ways to talk to Viktor. 
Maybe you've had so much trouble because you're trying to be too forward.
Instead, you could start by asking him out on a date.
Something simple.
Viktor practically lives off coffee, so maybe you could ask him out to the coffee house by your apartment? 
You finally locate a waiter just as that thought runs through your mind, and it feels like something finally clicks when it does.
Nodding to yourself, you pick up two glasses of the bubbling drinks, trading in your empty one.
Why hadn't you thought of that before? 
Of course, asking him out to coffee or dinner would be easier than confessing your love to him.
Probably a bit less awkward too…
You can't hide the triumphant skip in your step as you head back toward the balcony, a new plan already forming in your head. 
However, just as you are about to enter the outside space, the conversation between the two men you are returning to makes you pause. 
"She likes you, you know," Jayce says, presumably to Viktor. 
"What are you going on about?" Viktor asks, his accented voice unmistakable. 
You know you shouldn't eavesdrop, and you are just about to step out onto the balcony when your name falls from Jayce's lips and makes you freeze completely. 
"I’m almost positive she likes you. And before you say it, yes, as more than a friend." Jayce's voice is firm as he speaks, like they've had this conversation before. 
Have you been that obvious?
Heat rises to your cheeks at the thought.
If Jayce knows…
Then you've definitely been more obvious than you intended. Because that man is oblivious to just about everything. 
You hear Viktor sigh as you take a few more steps closer to the open doors, careful to stay out of sight. 
"I don't believe you are correct," he says, matter-of-factly. "And even if she does feel this way, it's not like I would not act upon it."
You don't even hear the rest of what he says as your heart starts to ache deep in your chest. It feels like you've gone numb, your fingers tingling with how hard his words hit you. 
He doesn't feel the same. Of course, he doesn't.
The familiar burn of tears is what forces you to move, and you practically burst out into the balcony.
The conversation immediately stops as you appear, and both of them look like a pair of startled deer. You quickly hand Jayce his drink, managing to spill a few drops onto his pants due to how your hands shake. 
"Here's your drink. Sorry, I took so long. I-" 
"Hey, Hey. Slow down." Jayce is up from his seat instantly, setting his drink on the ground and taking the one from your hand to give to Viktor.
"What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost." 
You shake your head but can't stop yourself glancing over at Viktor, more tears welling up at the concerned look on his face.
Finally, you drop your eyes to the floor. 
"I don't feel well. I think I'm gonna head home." You say simply, brushing Jayce's hands off you to head towards the door. 
Turning to leave, you don’t wait for a response from either of them, but Viktor is already hauling himself to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane. 
"At least let me walk you home-" 
Your rejection comes out much louder than anticipated, and you cringe internally. You try to ignore the startled look on his face as you elaborate.
"I'm fine. Have a good night, you guys.”
You leave before either of them can stop you. Gathering the skirt of your dress in your hands as you walk, you can’t help but worry the delicate fabric between your fingers. Right now, it's the only thing grounding you until you exit the large mansion onto the street. 
Only then, when the crowd's murmur disappears behind the doors, and the cool air washes over you, do the tears fall. 
While you had told the boys you were going home, your feet had inadvertently carried you to the greenhouse on Academy grounds.
It was the one place you could go to calm down; your plants always had a calming effect on you. Tending them, pruning the dead leaves away, sketching new blooms or new breeds of flora and fauna. 
It almost helped drown out the ache in your chest.
You can't help but feel silly sitting on a stool in the plant-filled space, your evening gown still on and trailing against the dirt floor.
You had taken your hair out from its intricate style, letting it lay free as you nursed a particularly picky plant in front of you. 
Adenium obesum.
More commonly known as the desert rose. 
It's a beautiful little shrub plant with vibrant pink-white flowers when it blooms. You were able to get your hands on one when a foreign market came to Piltover a few months ago. 
The flower is supposed to bring good luck. It resembles courage, self-belief, and resilience.
All things you had desperately needed-
Desperately wanted to confess.
But it seemed it hadn't done you much good. It was all in vain anyway. 
At first, the plant had struggled to survive. There aren't many subtropical plants under your care, and you worried for many weeks you would lose the little plant. But after weeks of tender care and careful adjustments, the flowers started to bloom. 
And you foolishly took that as a sign. 
Sighing, you trim away a few dead leaves before opening your notebook to a blank page.
The small shrub is in full bloom, its bright flowers complemented beautifully by its vibrant green leaves.
You had yet to sketch out the plant and decided now was as good a time as any. 
Anything to get your mind off the sting still lingered in your heart. 
You lay your pencil on paper, trying in vain to occupy your mind with your love of plants rather than your unrequited love of Viktor. 
The halls of the Academy are eerily quiet in the late hours of the night. It was just past midnight when you had left the Gala in a haste Viktor did not expect.
Jayce had called it a night soon after that, and Viktor agreed, wanting to go check on you more than anything. 
And talk to you after his and Jayce's conversation. 
He didn't believe his partner when Jayce told him of your affections. But after you left, the conversation continued, and he felt like an idiot once his partner pointed out all the signs.
The way you found any excuse to be close to him. The way you'd give him your undivided attention no matter the topic. 
"Do you really think she cared about the stabilization process of the arcane when she has a botany degree? You didn't even use layman's terms, Vik." 
Viktor had always assumed you were just being polite, but the more he realized it, the only polite people to him were his partner, Caitlyn, and Heimerdinger. Everyone else looked down at him or ignored him completely. 
But not you. 
You always praised him.
Laughed at his witty remarks. Brushed your fingers through his hair, looped your arm through his at events…
And suddenly, as Jayce was laying all this out, Viktor realized that he felt much more for you than he ever knew.
He has always wanted to be around you and craved your presence and words. Loved to listen to you speak of your plants and your work.
For Janna's sake!
He spent the precious time he could have been working on Hextech making an automatic water mister for you when you couldn't be at the greenhouse. 
Viktors has been a fool, and he hid all of his feelings behind a wall of 'professionalism' in fear of pushing you away.
…It seems that he's managed that anyway. 
He had gone to check on you after your abrupt exit, and when he didn't find you at your apartment, he knew exactly where you'd be. 
The greenhouse is one of the only places in Piltover with thriving natural plant life. Most of the greenery scattered around the city was intentionally placed to make the city look brighter and more pleasing to the eye. 
But you've made the greenhouse, and the Academy gardens a flourished, lush, paradise.
Even though he's been in the large building too many times to count, it still takes his breath away every time.
Green plants hang from the ceiling, their leaves or vines hanging from pots to create a fantastical atmosphere.
Plants with bright flowers or lush leaves sit on the multitudes of shelves and tables throughout the space, and every time Viktor takes a breath, it feels cleaner than the last. 
He understands why you love it here so much. And he feels the worry that settled in his belly dissipate when he sees your form hunched over your workbench in the far corner. 
He approaches slowly, the sound of his cane muted against the packed earth of the greenhouse.
He calls your name softly, brows furrowing when you don't respond. Then he understands your silence when he's finally by your side. 
You had fallen asleep. 
Your head rests on folded arms, a leather-bound notebook scooted to the side with a half-finished sketch of the plant that sits to your left. A pencil is still clutched between your fingers, and Viktor can't stop the smile that tugs at his lips. 
You look beautiful like this.
Hair down, face calm, and at rest, cheek squished adorably from where it rests against your arms.
But as Viktor gazes at you, he can't help the way his smile disappears as he notices the faint streaks of mascara on your cheeks and the red puffiness around your eyes. 
He reaches up, gently brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear before trailing his fingers along your cheek.
His touch is feather-light, yet it must have been enough to disturb your slumber, because your eyes begin to flutter. 
Viktor knows he should pull away, knows it's more than inappropriate, but he can't bring himself to do so. Not even as you begin to sit up, eyes widening as you realize who's standing before you. 
Finally, Viktor drops his hand as you shy away from him, avoiding his gaze. 
"What are you doing here, Vik?" You ask, voice sticky from sleep. 
His concern never leaves his face.
“Were you crying?" His voice is soft as he speaks, and he reaches up to cradle your cheek again, but you stop him, swatting his hand away. 
You ignore the hurt obvious in his eyes at your action.
"Why does it matter? I told you I wasn't feeling good." You snap, turning back to your notebook.
Viktor frowns, placing both hands on his cane.
"I just wanted to make sure you were alright. You were acting…strangely when you left the Gala." 
You huff, turning away from him more as tears start to blur your vision again. 
Why can't he just leave you alone? 
"Well, I'm fine." Your voice cracks, and you don't even care if he heard it. "So why don't you just go? It’s not like you’d ‘act upon it’ anyways." 
Viktor freezes at your words, and everything falls into place. Why you rushed out, why you are pushing him away now.
He feels guilt claw at his chest. 
"You heard us…." He states, voice low. 
"Yes, I heard you." You bite. "So don't worry about it. Forget Jayce even said anything, and I will too. He had no right to even talk to you about that-"
"I shouldn't have said that." Viktor cuts you off, and when you don't say anything, he continues. 
"I didn't believe Jayce when he told me how you felt. And it took him talking some sense into me to open my own eyes." He explains, fingers turning white with how hard he is gripping his cane.
"I was a fool to not see it and an even bigger fool for not realizing I feel the same way." 
At this, you tear your eyes away from your sketching, sending him a wary glance.
"I love you too." He finally says, never tearing his eyes from your own. 
He watches as your lower lip wobbles, and uncertainty fills your gaze.
"Viktor, if this is some kind of joke-" 
He takes a step forward then, cradling your face gently in one of his hands.
"I might be blind, but I'm not cruel." He says, lips turning upwards. "It just took Jayce talking some sense into me so I could finally see what is right in front of me." 
A shaky breath leaves your lips as you lean into his touch, your eyes slipping closed.
"I've loved you for way too long," you admit, reaching up to cover his hand with yours. "I'm sorry for the way I acted-"
Soft lips on yours stop the apology in its tracks, and you hesitate before realizing what's going on. 
Viktor is kissing you.
Viktor is kissing you! 
When your mind finally catches up, you return the kiss, surging forward to bring yourself as close as possible to him.
Viktor obliges, leaning his cane against your workbench and wrapping his free arm around your waist. 
When you pull away, you want to take a breath and kiss him again, but Viktor pauses - resting his forehead against your own. 
"I should be the one apologizing." He tells you, nudging his nose against your cheek. 
Shaking your head, you smile.
"All is forgiven." You say, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to the beauty mark below his eye.
"Although I do have to admit, making out in the greenhouse isn't very professional. So maybe we should go somewhere else."
Viktor laughs, pulling away to look at you properly. He brushes a thumb along your lower lip and then your cheek.
"Damn, professionalism." He says, leaning in, so his lips brush yours. "I just want you by my side. For as long as you'll have me." 
The way your heart flutters in your chest is unmatched by anything you've felt before, and you can't help the giddy laugh that escapes from your chest.
"If I had it my way, that would be forever." 
Viktor hums. "Forever, it is."
Then his lips are on yours once more.
And as he kisses you in the greenhouse, flora all around you, you can't help but silently thank the little Desert Flower beside you. 
Maybe it did bring good luck.
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cammys-imagines24 · 5 months ago
•Viktor Being Jealous•
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Shame on you for ever making this sweet baby scientist jealous.
Everyday Viktor wakes up he's already insecure, so for you to make him jealous is just adding fuel to the fire.
Everyday he thinks he isn't good enough for you. That you should be with someone healthy.
Someone who doesn't have bad days.
Someone who doesn't have a rapidly deteriorating body.
And, if Viktor's ailments weren't enough to make him feel unworthy of you, he is also busy all the time as well.
You should be with someone who can give you all the time in the world, the time you deserve.
You should be with someone who can sweep you off your feet and who won't hold you back.
Already all of these thoughts are like gnats buzzing in his ears.
The inhibiting droning only held at bay when you tell him you love him.
His self aware worrying only placated by your near constant reassurances and consolations.
So, when Viktor sees you talking politely with a man, a fellow scientist no less, all his doubts come crashing back down onto him.
The weight of his hurt alone enough to make him curl inward, all his body going limp with just his cane keeping him upright.
His golden eyes darken, his lips downturn, his brows knit together as if sewn, his hands tremble...
Viktor will spy on the two of you, despite the shattered heap that is his heart.
He'll see you effortlessly smiling at the new scholar, see how the man leans forward with breath bated at your every word.
The man even warmly places a hand upon your shoulder.
At that point, Viktor is entirely broken.
He won't be able to look anymore.
He'll barracade himself in his office, in the comforts of his books, research and notes but he won't feel a sliver of comfort at the familiarity of it.
He'll obsess over the scene he just bared witness to, replaying every minuscule detail as it festered like an infection in his mind.
He could assess the facts, he was good at that.
Perhaps you were just showing this new scientist around. Perhaps you were just being friendly.
The rational part of him could see that, you being a warm and amiable character, yet he just couldn't make himself believe it.
Your effortless smile from before will haunt him as he remembers all the times when he's made you upset.
When he collapses and has to be bedridden; you getting sleepless nights by staying up with him in the infirmary.
When he coughs up blood and can't hide the crimson handkerchief in his pocket fast enough and he sees your eyes well up with tears at the sight.
Your relationship should be effortless and it could be if you chose that new scholar over him.
He's being compulsive and letting this one innocent scene consume him like a Hextech problem he can't solve.
But, Viktor loves you too much to not fret about whether you chose the right partner for your life.
As heartbroken as he is however, when you go to confront him, he will be nothing but standoffish and irritable.
You know how when a cat wants to be pet but for some reason makes their owner work for said scratches?
That's how he'll act.
You'll tell him that you've been looking for him everywhere.
"Really? I don't know how you noticed anything when you were so encompassed by that new scholar."
Viktor will quip, releasing his not often seen sarcasm.
You know what's up immediately based upon his touchy remarks and scowl.
Viktor is pretty easy to read. His amber eyes tell all.
Now you've got work to do because he's got his defensive walls up.
You'll go to kneel in front of where he sat at his desk and gently run your fingers up his thighs.
You'll be quick to reassure him that you were just showing that newcomer around the Academy.
Which is of course what Viktor rationalized yet it did nothing to blur the sight of you two together.
Youll run your fingers further up his lean body, over his chest, his neck, all the way to his tousled light brown hair.
You'll caress the two beauty marks upon his sculpted face and near his still glowering lips.
You'll have to spend the whole night showering him with affection.
It never an easy recovery whenever he does get jealous.
Others have reactions of jealousy based on feeling possessive or feeling threatened but not Viktor.
He almost just feels guilty about keeping you in the first place. Keeping you from someone better suited for you.
It will take a lot of work to remind him of your love, not that you mind telling him how special he is and why you chose him in the first place.
You'll recap all of your favorite memories together, everything you adore about him, why he makes you happy...
Viktor will absolutely cherish when you tell him things like this.
He appreciates you more than you could ever know and he would do anything to make you happy.
Your reassurances keeping his worries at bay again for a little while.
And, he will return the gesture, cupping your face and kissing your forehead.
He'll whisper how much he loves you as he pecks your cheek, your lips, your neck...
His sweet nothing words fluttering against your skin.
"I love you, printsessa. Thank you for staying with me."
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