hot things the Arcane characters do
feat.: Viktor, Jayce Talis, Silco, Vander, Vi, Jinx, Sevika, Ekko
warnings: suggestive, some nsfw mentions
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.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
notes: viktor with rolled up sleeves viktor with rolled up sleeves i repeat viktor with ro
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• NSFW Viktor Headcanons •
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.
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!)
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."
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.
FINE. Viktor NSFW oneshot.. - 1677 words￼
Viktor x Fem Reader
Y/N is power hungry
"Do you know how long you've been sitting there?" your voice, soft and delicate, gracefully penetrates the silence in Viktor’s lab.
He's startled at first, only just now noticing you creeping up behind him. Your arms slowly wrap around him, fingers dancing between strands of coffee colored hair as you rest your chin on his shoulder. "Yes." he states, his gaze never shifting from the apparatus before him. "Is there something you need?"
You roll your eyes at the ignorance of his question.
"It's just like you to be so imperceptive," you whisper into his ear with a mischievous grin and a chaste kiss on the cheek, knowing that you need to play your cards just right if you intend to capture his attention.
Your comment has the desired effect on the man, sparking enough curiosity within him to elicit an inquisitive "Oh?" followed by a slightly amused "what do you mean?".
You release him from your grasp, allowing your fingers to linger on his shoulders for a moment before speaking;
"Are you really that naive?"
The look on his face as he turns to you—confused, intrigued, and slightly entertained— is enough to validate your hunch that you're on the right track.
"If you've got something to say to me, just say it." There's a playfulness to his voice, subtle enough that most wouldn't notice, voiding his attempt at feigning annoyance. "I don't have time for this."
You quirk your head innocently, meeting his eyes, biting back an impish grin. "I don't think I've got anything to say. However," you continue, slowly dropping to your knees, never breaking your intense gaze, "There are some things I've been dying to do..."
You shuffle between his legs, hands slowly smoothing up his thighs. You feel him tense under your touch as your fingers inch closer to the crotch of his pants, and you can't help but smirk as he starts shifting in his seat.
"If you're only here to distract me, I'm going to have to ask you to leave," he breathes, gripping the armrests of his chair as he desperately tries to avoid your eyes.
"Distract you?" you ask, now rutting your hand against his crotch at a steady, agonizingly slow pace. "I'm only collecting what's due."
"This is an extremely inconvenient time to do that." You feel fluttering in your stomach when you catch a glimpse of his now flushed cheeks, and watching him hopelessly try to maintain his composure only makes you that much more determined to break him.
Viktor’s breath hitches as your fingers smoothly unbutton his pants, revealing his boxers and the growing protrusion beneath them.
"I understand you're feeling neglected, but-"
"You don't have time for me, right?" you recite,
your tone seeping with sarcasm. You play with the hem of his boxers teasingly as you meet his gaze.
"I always find time," he mutters, one hand moving to play with his hair. "You know how important this project is."
"But it couldn't be more important than me?" you ask softly, giving a seductive tug on his pants. He looks at you for a moment, then to your delight, relents, lifting his hips just enough for you to shed him of his clothing, his cock lunging forward, rock hard and flushed pink. "Not more important," he sighs, again attempting to maintain his composure. "But much less annoying."
You raise an eyebrow at his shoddy attempt at seeming irritated as you wrap your fingers around his length. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you didn't like this," you purr, circling his tip with your thumb, causing him to sigh and grip the armrests even tighter.
As you lean closer, you begin stroking him, quickly finding a pace that sends tremors through his body. "I would like it, I do like it," he says breathlessly, stumbling over his words, furiously fidgeting with his hair, struggling to handle the pleasure with equanimity. "But I need to, please, I need to work..."
His short breaths gradually become barely audible moans as you quicken your pace. You inch ever closer to him, allowing your lips to brush him as you speak;
"Don't you think a clever man like you deserves some respite every now and then?"
"Time and place," he grits out, one hand untangling from his hair and softly cupping your cheek. His face is red hot and his eyes are low, laden with lust and desire. It's beautiful, but you're still not quite satisfied.
Maintaining eye contact with your lover, you slowly lick a brazen stripe from base to tip, making sure to swivel your tongue around the head. His eyes flutter closed and he inhales sharply, his body shuddering as you begin to lap at him.
"I can stop you know," you tease, speaking between swirls of your tongue. "I wouldn't want you to fall behind because of me."
"It's far too late for that," he moans, desperation lacing his tone. His regularly calm voice is now whiny and needy, overflowing with lechery, exactly how you like it. Both his hands have found their way onto your face now, and he's looking at you with carnality, rolling his hips uncontrollably.
"Don't stop, please, I need this," he admits shyly. A lewd noise escapes him as you oblige and take him into your mouth, allowing him to slip to the back of your throat. You hollow your cheeks, slowly beginning to bob your head around him, humming in response to the uncharacteristic but wildly alluring string of profanities streaming from him as you do.
It's with shame and a tinge of humiliation that he cries "Fuck," slamming his eyes shut as you pull up. You notice a string of saliva connecting the both of you and feel his grip growing tighter.
"So you do have time for me," you murmur wisely, pumping him lazily with one hand and reaching under his shirt with the other. "Whatever happened to your staunch work ethic?"
"My ‘work ethic’ is perennial." his voice is weak, wavering as he speaks. "It was you who mentioned my need for respite." His subtle sass is amplified by an edge of accusation, which majorly clashes with his current state; a slick, writhing mess, wanton and lustful.
"Is that so?" you muse, choosing to ignore his tone as you slowly rise to your feet.
Viktor watches intently as you find a place in his lap, and you hear his breath quicken as you straddle him and press the wet fabric of your underwear against his exposed groin. Rolling your hips smoothly, you grind against him as your fingers once again begin to dance between strands of dark hair.
"Surely you can still spare a little time for your girlfriend." A particularly rough roll of your hips causes him to squirm. "Don't you agree?"
He nods slowly, weakly stammering out a breathless "Yes," before lightly grabbing your waist as he’s overcome with bliss. A coy smile finds its way onto your face as you continue grinding against him, drinking in his lewd expression and reveling in the exceedingly indecent sounds flowing from his slightly parted mouth.
"I knew you would." you mumble, dipping your head below his jaw. You begin sucking bruises onto his delicate skin, causing him to buck upwards and tilt his head to further expose his neck. "That's a specious claim," he whines, still attempting to maintain some control over the situation, slightly discomfited by how easily you've broken him.
You quickly work at the buttons of his shirt, never allowing your lips to leave their spot below his ear. "So you say." you whisper before finally pulling away and allowing him to shed his top.
You scan his naked body and watch as he swallows thickly. "This is a little unfair." His eyes are glassy and stuck on you, observing your every movement. "I'm completely exposed, but you, you..."
He cuts himself off, sighing your name as you pick up your pace. "You're so desperate." you tease, running your hands over his bare chest.
He whines softly and tugs at your skirt. "Unfair," he repeats, now too focused on his own arousal to come up with a witty reply.
"Then take it off," you whisper, standing up slowly. He quickly pulls your skirt down, exposing your underwear and the wetness between your thighs. He hesitates to take them off, his cheeks once again turning red, but seeing how badly he wants you has left you feeling extremely aroused as well.
You swiftly slip your panties to your feet, stepping out of them and back onto Viktor’s lap, hovering above him teasingly. "Is this what you want?" you breathe before lowering yourself onto him. He throws his head back in pleasure, subconsciously grabbing your hand and humming quietly.
You quickly find a steady pace, eager to please yourself and set on seeing his face contorted into an expression of ecstasy. Viktor soon begins thrusting softly, slowly beginning to meet your rhythm. As his pace gradually increases, his grip on your hand grows tighter, and his whines and moans grow louder.
Strands of his hair are stuck to his red cheeks, and you feel yourself growing ever closer to release as you watch his lean muscles contract under glistening skin. You run your hands down his chest, leaning down to kiss his body and revel in the breathy “god”s and “yes”s escaping him.
Suddenly, he grabs your hips, fucking into you roughly, his eyes shut tight. "Viktor," you moan loudly, feeling embarrassed by the lustfulness of your own voice. He only whines, slightly opening his eyes, his swift pace never faltering. You moan again, grabbing fistfuls of his hair as he pushes you over the edge.
He soon follows, his rhythm becoming erratic as he whines uncontrollably. His eyes roll back before fluttering shut, and his nails dig deeper into your flesh. You feel him release inside of you, his face twisted in pleasure, and listen proudly to him moaning your name, telling you how good you've made him feel.
two wrongs don't make a right // viktor
summary: when viktor left the undercity for his dreams, he left his childhood best friend behind. what happens when, after many years and many mistakes later, they meet again in singed's lab?
pairing: viktor x fem!reader
word count: 5.5k
a/n: fell in love with this man and wrote this. you have @milkbaer to thank for being a reason for me to watch the show in the first place and for the unconditional support all the time 🤧😚
When Viktor told Jayce he was going to meet a friend, he didn’t think he would actually make it there. It had been years. And he had to make himself forget the path leading to that place. He promised himself he wouldn’t go there again. But that was easy to say when he was a child up until he became Heimerdinger’s assistant. He had been a young, hopeful man with a will, a desperation for discovery.
The place was the same as he knew it. It was the same gorge with sharp stone walls and a narrow stream slicing through. Though, something was darker and it wasn’t just the polluted waters. Something in the air had changed and perhaps, he understood it first hand.
Since he began testing Hexcore on organic matters, something became different. He was different. Desperate. Because he knew what he wanted the result to be. Augmentation. And there was only one person he knew that successfully reached that level of augmentation, the kind that might save his work, his life.
Viktor balled his fist, resting it against the door for a moment. With his other hand, he gripped tighter onto his cane, knuckles going white. A brief question of “What has it come to?” flashed before his mind. The answer was not enough to make him turn around and walk the other way. So, he knocked.
Moments later came a voice echoing from inside. Not the deep, raspy voice of Singed. A sweet one, as smooth and soft as honey. “Who is it?” When Viktor failed to answer, it continued, “I swear you don’t have to pretend to be polite, Silco!”
And then, the door flew open to reveal a young lady. She wore a stained apron over a boiler suit, goggles pushed halfway up her forehead. He didn’t know Singed had taken a project partner. The man always made himself out to be a lone wolf.
“You’re not Singed,” he said, a curious smile playing on his lips as he stood straighter.
Viktor was too busy noticing that she was not the scientist he was searching for to notice the striking resemblance she bore to someone he once knew.
But she did.
Through Y/N’s scratched lenses, in that shitty swamp green light, she could still pick out features of the boy that occupied her entire childhood. The amber eyes that had her past frozen forever behind them. As she peered into them now, she could still see the reflection of herself standing there in the rain, her heart broken and bruised. That girl had hoped for a boy who would stay, yet all he ever did was leave.
The odd silence between them made Viktor stop and think. She could hear the gears spinning in his head as he pieced things together. The look he threw her when he finally got it sent her into a frenzy of mixed emotions. And in the panic, she released her hand, letting the door swing shut.
Viktor was quicker, jamming his crutch into the closing gap. “Y/N, wait.”
Y/N didn’t wait for him, quickly stepping into her lab, sliding her goggles back down. She was not going to let him see her like this. He did not deserve to see her like this. She grumpily sat back down at her desk, lifting vials of Shimmer up and putting them down again.
Efforts to ignore the sound of footsteps growing in her direction failed when she sighed, looking at his shadow on the floor. “What do you want?” she asked, as unconcerned as her shaky breaths would allow.
“I wanted to talk to Singed-”
“Well, Singed is not here today. You might as well leave now.”
“Yes, I can see that. But I said “wanted”, past tense,” he said with a small laugh.
He grew an even bigger ego. She supposed that wasn’t so impossible, seeing that he was a big-shot scientist who resided in a palace on the better side of town. She must give it to him. He had the gall to walk in here uninvited, unwelcome after all those years of stony silence. Now, he expected her to listen to his needs?
She spun around in her chair. “Oh, my apologies,” she drawled, lowering herself into a bow before flickering her gaze upwards. “What do you want now? And how may I be of service to you, good sir?”
He seemed unaffected by her attitude. “You’re working with Singed?”
“For how long?” he asked, leaning forward against his cane.
“Since you left.”
He shook his head. “No, that’s impossible.”
Y/N had a feeling the questions weren’t going to stop anytime soon. She returned to her work, for real, this time. Singed did leave a lot of notes that desperately need translating if anyone was going to be able to read them in the future. “Believe me, it wasn’t thanks to you. Don’t flatter yourself.”
He paused. “You helped create Shimmer? You helped weaponize it?”
“Just because they don’t pass my name around doesn’t mean I wasn’t there.”
“No, no. I’ve always known you were brilliant. But-”
The statement softened her heart, more than she thought anything from him could. She let her guards down, enough to turn and look at him again. But that was her mistake. Viktor was grappling with something. His gaze sweeping over the equipment, the notes on the wall, the skeletons on the shelves, Rio in the tank. For a moment, she was afraid of his opinion about her.
His amber eyes turned dark, tinged with the purple radiating off of the vials behind her. He continued, quieter than before, “Have you seen the people out there?” and then a bit louder, “Dying from this substance?”
These types of confrontations were sadly no longer foreign to her. When she joined Singed, she knew what she was getting herself into. And with time, she understood how the system worked. All the criticism, the hate? They were just noises, buzzes aimed to throw her off track. He threw her off track. And for what? For her to detach herself from her work - the one thing that would not betray her?
She felt fine being painted as a villain by her contemporaries. If that was what it took to change lives, so be it.
“Is that what you came here to do? Question my morals when you and your councillors don’t have any either? How very rich of you all.”
Viktor could scoff. His morals were absolutely fine. He and Jayce were trying to make lives better for people, from Piltover and Zaun, not trying to use them as lab rats. Y/N had no case against them and Hextech.
“That thing is dangerous as it is. Putting it into people’s hands, making it more accessible is dangerous!”
Y/N stood up, walking past him. His eyes followed her across the cavernous room. She dug around at another desk until her hands found a stack of paper, its edges frayed and curled. He recognized the font as she approached him once more. Piltover’s newspaper.
How did she get access to it from all the way here?
Y/N flipped through the pages one by one, reading them out to him. Dangerous experiment blows up Academy districts’ residential block; Inventor Jayce Talis found guilty of conducting illegal, deathly experiments against warnings of the Academy; A twist: Jayce Talis exonerated and given permit to continue research. And more recently, Progress Day’s speech promises little progress.
Y/N threw the newspaper at his feet. “Still, somehow, you think Hextech is safe? You sit on your high horse and you look down your nose at me. You think because you people got approved by six people, that makes your work noble and selfless. It’s all for profit, Viktor. Not progress or whatever the fuck you tell yourselves so you can sleep better at night.”
Viktor remembered all of those headlines. Especially the last one. Not because it was recent but because it was true. From what it sounded like, Heimerdinger was not handing the green pass to any of Jayce’s and his recent inventions any time soon. And their recent troubles with Hexcore which stubbornly would not seem to work despite all the runes he had racked his brains to come up with.
And how could he forget what Jayce said to him the other day? “Maybe Mel’s right. Maybe we shouldn’t sit on our asses and hope they won’t one day attack us. Maybe we should create our countermeasures.” Viktor had refused, violently. It was a ridiculous notion to even consider. They didn’t create Hextech so Piltover could use it against the people. But then again, they didn’t create Hexgates so the rich could get richer, for corruption to tear up the governments either. It happened anyway.
Could it be? Could it be that she had a point? That despite his intentions, he did play a part in creating new problems for the city to solve? And perhaps, even much greater ones now that his own partner, his dear friend thought it a good idea to get involved in warfare?
“Necessary sacrifices, wasn’t that what you called it when you left me for your great destiny’s calling?”
Viktor opened his mouth to answer her. The guilt that plagued him all these years for leaving her behind caught up with him. He was young and he was vengeful, knowing what Singed did to Rio. He did not know what he had until he lost it. He refrained from thinking about it, burying himself into his work. But in his dreams, he still saw her. He still heard his own voice echo back to him tauntingly, hauntingly.
“Please don’t go. Don’t leave me,” she had pleaded, terrified.
“It’s a necessary sacrifice, Y/N. You’ll understand, for me.”
Viktor left her there in the downpour. He left his childhood behind that day too. The most innocent and pure-hearted part of who he was. He didn’t even blink twice. He didn’t even turn around once. He was cruel then for what he did. And he was cruel now for having just realized what the biggest crime he had ever committed was. It wasn’t being unable to get Hextech out there, changing lives. It wasn’t failing to work out how to get organic matters to survive after being augmented by Hexcore. It wasn’t about science, at all. It was his betrayal. He betrayed her and he betrayed the boy from the Undercity slums.
He knew he was not going to get either back.
Viktor looked at the shaking hands that she tried to hide behind her back and those eyes that once spoke to him. Now they were shielding themselves from him, masking the pain and hurt with anger and disgust. He recognized it. He had that same, exact look in his eyes the last time he saw Singed.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll go. I won’t bother you again.”
“Do it,” she whispered. “That's what you always do.”
Viktor turned to the door, taking those painfully heavy steps. His chest tightened, his breathing grew shallow, his vision turned hazy. He wondered if this was what it was supposed to feel like when he walked away the first time. He made it through the threshold and then he collapsed. Fits of bloody cough left his weak body as the door closed itself behind him.
When he left, it was like another dimension had wedged itself into reality and stretched the space taller, wider, deeper. It swallowed Y/N whole as she stood with her back to the door. She could not look at him go. As much as she disliked it, Viktor could still hurt her. Though this time around, she had much more to lose.
She remembered what it took to get herself here. Singed, a famously cold and cruel man of science and reason, had to be there for her. He had only dealt with chemicals and numbers before. A heartbroken teenage girl was the last thing he expected to find in his lab. But even so, he tried to be there for her as a mentor. He sat with her on the floors, unable to say or do much. When she could hear sense, he would encourage her to find her passion within research. And it worked.
Y/N stopped crying and then gradually she stopped thinking about him. Shimmer was what mattered. It was going to be her legacy. Or at least that was what she thought.
In the deafening sound of machines whirling, she still heard a thump. She could not ignore it. She tried to, even sat back down her desk and scribbled two whole words down. And then she was up again, cracking the door open just a smidge to peer outside. That was when she found him on the ground.
Y/N gasped in horror, rushing to his side as fast as her legs could carry her. Viktor lay on his side, his crutch three paces away from him. There was blood on the floor in splatters, some above his lips. He was still breathing but it was weak and ragged, barely there. Y/N tried shaking him back to consciousness, calling his name, begging him to come back.
When none seemed to work, Y/N found herself wishing Singed had been here. He would have known what to do. He would have done it by now. An hour ago, she would have done it too.
But Viktor made her question a lot of things in his presence. She knew something was wrong when she began worrying about his opinion. It bothered her. She hadn’t had to second doubt her beliefs since him. This time it was the exact same. He appeared long enough to send her down the same path and then he left her to find her own way back.
Y/N slid her right hand underneath his arm, blindly feeling for his crutch with her left. She reached the middle of the lab and she stood, torn between Viktor and her work. It was always one or the other. She never had to think what would happen if Viktor was the one who needed the Shimmer.
She took one look at the Shimmer on the desk. It was the easy way out. She knew how to use it. She had watched Singed use it many times before, once on her. But it didn’t help that more than anyone, she knew the cost, the possible complications, the things it did to a person.
The risk was far too great a cost.
When Viktor opened his eyes, he thought he would be right where he had fallen. He actually thought he wouldn’t wake up at all. He definitely didn’t expect to wake up, still breathing and tucked into a warm, comfortable bed. Although he didn’t feel all that well, his mouth dry and his mind foggy, he felt better than before.
The reason, he supposed, was the mix of herbs that flooded the room with its therapeutic aroma. There were steaming buckets everywhere on the floors.
Once Viktor had registered that this was all real and not a fever dream, he began noticing things around the room. Taped on the curved ceilings and the walls were sketches and notes. The small, cramped space he was in was just big enough for a twin-sized bed, a dresser, half a desk and a stool where he found most of his clothes neatly folded. Viktor gulped, only just now realizing that he was almost naked in someone else’s bed.
When he heard the crack of the door, he closed his eyes again, turning his face towards the wall. He heard a sigh, footsteps and a thud. Another bucket he would imagine. The mattress dipped. Another sigh.
“What did I do wrong?” he heard Y/N say. Quiet as a whisper. She leaned in to hear his breathing. The smell of her shampoo filled his nose and he prayed she didn’t notice how fast his breaths were. “Uneven breathing,” she said. And then he felt a soft hand on his forehead, her hand. “Forehead is not hot.” Her hand moved to cup his cheek and he had to fight the urge to blush. Although, he wasn’t sure how well he could control that.
“Viktor, can you-can you hear me?”
Y/N had hoped for an answer. She did everything she could remember. Back when she lived on the streets, by the mercy of a lady who ran a bathhouse, she’d seen people, sick people walk out of saunas healthy and strong. She didn’t have every single exact herb that they had but what she kept all these years in a tin box beneath her bed should be enough for now.
Viktor should wake up soon. He had to. Maybe it was just a waiting game. That was all. He would come back to her. She had her worries, though, about the bags under his eyes. They were dark cool purple against his stark white complexion. This was not his illness. This was his doing.
She brushed her thumb over his sharp cheekbones. He looked so tired. Even now as Viktor rested, he still didn’t look at peace. She let her hand fall from his cheek to adjust his blanket. Smoothing the linen over his chest, she thought about bending down and kissing his cheeks.
Y/N didn’t. She just thought about it. Instead, she went to stand up. He was going to need some food and water when he woke up. But she couldn’t move. A hand had slipped into hers and tugged her back.
And just as she hoped, Viktor blinked back at her. She didn’t know how much she had missed the glint in those golden eyes until she thought she might lose them forever.
Y/N squeezed his hand, blinking back the tears that threatened to slip right down her cheeks. “Oh, you’re still alive!”
Viktor smiled. “You didn’t want me to die?” he croaked in his sleep-laden voice.
“So you can leave me for the third time? Still unbelievably insufferable, I see. You must be fine. Thank God for that.”
Viktor took a moment to look at their intertwined hands by his side. He was going to savour it. After all, it was everything that his younger self had ever wanted to do. Then, he flicked his gaze up to meet hers.
“Thank you, Y/N. Not God.”
She nodded. “You’re welcome, Viktor.”
Despite his wishes, she slipped from his hold, going to grab him some clothes in the corner. He slowly sat up, observing her notes a little closer. Her work was bold and daring. Whatever she was working on with Singed had surpassed his own studies in terms of speed. They were almost at the finish line. There was only one thing that bugged him. It was that she did not use this new Shimmer byproduct on him.
“You didn’t do it,” he said. “Why not?”
Y/N frowned when she caught him moving. She didn’t answer his question right away, rushing over to drape a button down shirt over his shoulders. “Yes, that will do.” On her arm, she hung a pair of loose pants. She held it up and eyed him up and down. Viktor blushed, holding the collars of the shirt together with one hand. “This may be a bit too short for you but it’s all I have-”
“Y/N. It’s perfect.”
She grinned. “Alright. Change. I’ll be back with tea.”
Viktor felt guilty to see Y/N haul two huge buckets of water on her way out. He wanted desperately to help but there wasn’t much assistance his lanky arms could offer her. So he just changed into the clothes. The white shirt was a tad loose than what he was used to and the dark blue pants only came up to his ankles but he liked them. It was different.
When Y/N came back, she took a pause to look at him from the doorway. He had swung his legs off the bed, a loop-sided grin on his face. And he held his arms out to show her the outfit, wordlessly asking her what she thought with a small raise of the eyebrow. He looked handsome in the outfit he wore when he came in, the tight-fitted pinstripe burgundy shirt, ivory vest and scarlet tie. But in this billowy white button up and ill-fitted pants, he looked younger. He would make one hell of a poet or a bard.
Y/N gave a small laugh. “You look good,” she said, handing him a cup of tea before sitting down by his side. After a moment, she spoke again, “You asked me why I didn’t use the Shimmer.”
Viktor cradled his mug, turning to her. “Yes. Isn’t that what you are working on?” He gestured to her notes on the wall.
“It is.” Was there anything this man did not notice? She opened her mouth and then closed it again, unsure of what to tell him. The truth, perhaps? That she questioned everything she had been working so hard for? That she second guessed the very thing she had been obsessing over until all she could dream about was getting the formula just right?
His quizzical gaze didn’t help either.
With much hesitance, she finally heaved a sigh and said, “I’m going to show you something. But you have to promise me you won’t freak out, alright?”
He nodded. She trusted that he wouldn’t be scared. He was an inventor himself. If anyone could understand, it was him. Y/N placed her mug down on the bedside table and slowly rolled up her left sleeve to reveal the contraption that had saved her life just as easily as it could take it away.
Viktor observed the thick silver cuff that sat right above her elbow. It was carved out intricately with rhombus-shaped pockets where Shimmer flowed through. Her veins on her left arm were lit purple but as they travelled down her arm the colors paled and the shine dulled until it blended perfectly into her skin tone. That was why he failed to notice it.
She was observing him, chewing on the insides of her cheeks. “It saved me from the same conditions you suffer. But it drains me of my energy some days. Other days, it makes me overly antsy, I say things I don’t mean, do things I don’t remember afterwards.”
“You were right before, Viktor. It’s unpredictable, unstable, unsafe. And ever since I’ve had it, I’m dangerous too. I really didn’t want you to suffer even more.”
It broke his heart to hear her say that. He would rather her disagree with him. He really didn’t mind an argument, as long as she was defending her work. He could tell she had believed in Shimmer when she talked about it to him earlier. Exactly like any scientist who was worth a damn should.
While Viktor might not share that belief in Shimmer, he had his own in Hextech. And he had heard himself in her voice. He had fought for Hextech against unimaginative government officials and skeptical rivals for years. Still, he had never felt drained after those talks. Not like how he felt recently, having to convince himself to believe in what he was doing.
He put the mug down on the floor and took her hand, holding it in both of his. “Not to me. Not dangerous, no. You saved my life, Y/N. Even though you had every reason not to.”
She smiled before taking her hand back, playfully bumping her shoulder into his. “What about you? And who’s this Jayce Talis that has replaced me?”
Viktor rubbed his hands together, looking away to hide the inevitable disappointment that crossed his face after she retrieved her hand. He scoffed, “No one could replace you. You know that.”
“I suppose I do,” she laughed. “Do go on, though.”
“Right well, Jayce had his apartment blown up. I was there to confiscate all the research-”
Such typical Viktor behavior. “Let me guess, the research intrigued you.”
“Precisely,” he nodded, a glint in his eye at her correct guess. “I helped him figure out some calculations to convince the Council not to destroy everything he made. We became partners in research after that.”
The story didn’t sound like the one she had pictured in her head. From all the evidence she had pieced together, she’d always thought Jayce was the main researcher. She would imagine that he had help from his assistants, but not that of a research partner.
“So let me get this straight. You saved his ass and his work. Became associates. Invented all this awesome technology together. Yes?”
“So, how is it that we only hear about Jayce Talis in the papers? Your name should be everywhere.”
He shook his head, brown hair falling over his eyes. The idea humored him. “Ah, well, I’m not exactly the face people would like to see first thing in the morning over breakfast. Besides, science is what matters. I’m happy as long as I can create.”
Y/N felt oddly protective of him. He never stood up for himself in situations like these. Even as kids. She was always the one to speak up when the bigger kids shoved him around. She wondered all these years whether he had anyone to remind him not to take shit from people. Something told her that he didn’t.
She decided to leave it alone, though. He did sound like he no longer wanted to speak of the issue. “And are you? Happy?” she asked, instead.
He twiddled with the handle of the mug, looking away again. And she knew his answer before he gave it.
“I am. But the Academy is not this fantastical place I had imagined. There, politics ruled science. Things take decades for approval. At least things that are actually practical to the people.”
Spoken just like the Viktor she knew. Always so unwavering in his quest to improve conditions for people. They shared the same dream, still. Only thing was that they had taken different paths, away from each other.
Y/N leaned into his side, resting her cheek against his shoulder, “I guess not everything turned out the way we thought it would.”
Her voice was soft. Her hair was also soft. Viktor sucked in a breath. She had never been so close before. Made it hard for him to think. “I guess so.”
“Was there anything you would have done differently?”
“Many things. I wouldn’t have left you.”
She lifted her head just to give him a look. “Oh, you don’t need to say that. I forgive you. All is well.”
“No,” he said with a firm shake of the head. She needed to know how he felt. “I shouldn’t have left you. If I could change things, I would have brought you with me to Piltover. ”
Y/N was still smiling, joking around. “And do what? Be a librarian?”
“You could, if you’d like. Or you could study at the Academy. Become a champion of Piltover.”
She tapped her mug against his, reminding him to drink before taking a sip. “And where do you imagine yourself? In this dream?”
“I could be your associate. Or your assistant. Either way, you would be much better company than Jayce and Heimerdinger combined.”
It sounded like an absolute dream to him. The two of them, together, in a lab. Their desks filled with messy notes and coffee cup stains. He’d be tinkering away at his desk while she wrote on the board, mumbling the calculations. And at the end of the day, she would go home with him to their humble apartment. They would have a quaint, lovely existence outside of work. Perhaps some kids. Though, she probably didn’t need to hear the last parts.
“Sounds like we’d spend a lot of time together, then.”
He nodded. All the time, for eternity. “Like when we were children. Remember?”
Y/N placed her mug down and casually said, “I had the biggest crush on you when we were children.”
Wait, what? He shook his head. What did she just say?
“I never had the courage to tell you. You were very angsty and cold as a teen. I was scared you might think I was dorky.”
This was outrageous. For the record, he never thought she was dorky. He thought she was splendid, intelligent, gorgeous and for sure, out of his league. She deserved someone better than a sickly crippled kid. Selfishly, though, he still wanted to know if there was ever a hint of a chance that his fantasy might have been more possible than he thought.
“And has time fundamentally changed this…eh...fact?”
She shrugged, gaze faltering. “I wish it had.”
Viktor didn't have enough time to process his dream actually coming true before she turned away, rising to her feet. “Um, tea’s cold. I should-”
“No!” he almost shouted. Y/N looked back at him with wide eyes. He ought to say something more. Soon. ”Stay, please. I-I have always liked you too. No, more than like. I like you strongly,” he managed to say before he got cut off by a coughing fit.
He attempted to apologize again but she shook her head, nodding at the mug. He brought his lips to the cup, testing the temperature of the liquid. It was just warm enough not to burn his tongue off. Viktor took a gulp, one that was entirely too large.
While he drank, she raised her eyebrow and asked, “You like me strongly?”
“I do. That was a poor choice of word. I meant that-” he sighed. “What I wanted to say-”
Her hand cupped his cheek, quieting his mumbling immediately. His skin was on fire under her touch. It was quite funny to watch him sigh in frustration, running his hand through his hair, messing it up. She would have stayed still and watched him work each word out one by one. In her defense, he looked awfully adorable. But she supposed that was a bit cruel.
“I love you too, Viktor,” she said. “And I regret not telling you that when I had a chance. As I regret not doing this sooner.”
She brought her lips to his, closing the gap between them in one blink of an eye. He tensed up when she did, taking a second or so before relaxing entirely. He then sighed against her kiss. And she smiled. How long had he been waiting for this?
Y/N wished she could see his reaction but then again, feeling his lips on hers was enough to send her reeling for days to come. She had committed everything to memory by the time the kiss ended, in case it never happened again. But she had a hunch that this was not going to be the case at all.
Viktor was still holding his mug when she pulled away. And it made her laugh. She took it from him, placing her lips exactly where he did. Slowly. Full of intention as she drank from his cup, sending a little wink his way.
“Y/N,” he said, his eyes shamelessly on her lips before flickering up to meet her eyes.
“If I asked you to go with me, start a new life, leave all this behind, what would you say?”
She didn’t want to disappoint him. But she didn’t want to give him the wrong idea either. Viktor was the love of her life, once. In many ways, she loved him still and would always continue to do so. But she had a life here, responsibilities that awaited her. And she wasn’t exactly the type of person who would walk out on her mentor who also saved her life.
Y/N opened her mouth, rejection on the tip of her tongue. But when she saw the big eyes gazing at her, full of hope, dreams and potential. She found herself thinking about spending the rest of her life looking into them, having them be the first thing she saw in the morning and the last thing in the night. Wherever they lived, long as they were together, they would be happy. But even the best-laid plans of mice and men oft go astray.
“Then I’d say two wrongs don’t make a right, Viktor.”
To her surprise, he didn’t frown or scowl or look at her with puppy dog eyes, begging her to change her mind. The gleam of hope didn’t diminish at all, even despite her obvious rejection.
“Ah, but that’s the thing about us, scientists. You see?” he said, looking up at her notes on the ceiling. “All these notes hold an infinity of what-ifs on them. That’s all they are, if we stop at thinking and planning. But we don’t, do we?”
Viktor touched her cheek, running his fingertip along her jaw until he reached her chin. There, he stopped. His eyes scanned her features. The corners of his lips lifted slowly into a smile when her gaze fell on his again.
“That’s what I see when I look at us. An infinity of possibilities. The only way to find out which may come true is to try.”
let me know if you would like to be tagged in future viktor fics
Ekko, Sevika, and Viktor headcanons for dealing with a s/o who has to deal with painful periods cramps? If this is too uncomfortable to quit then I understand
featuring: ekko + viktor + sevika & reader is still gender neutral
content: fluff, cuddling
ekko is PREPARED
the first time he saw you struggling with cramps, he just understood, didn't question, immediately helped you with it
he kinda sees it at the same level as you helping him with his injuries bcs cramps get THAT BAD
there's tea, hot compress, snacks, blankets, what else
will not let you lift a finger even when the pain subsides, just tells you to lie down lol
it's 3 am, and you want jericho's? he's running, he's sprinting, he's zooming on that firelight board
if there's something he has to take care of, he'll make sure to come back immediately
you're treated like royalty ✨ deal with it
at the end of the day he'd just cuddle, especially if you make grabby hands at him, he's soft. he turns into a human hot compress
will give you massages, roll a glass jar filled with warm water on your stomach and make sure you're comfy
viktor is so clueless it's cute
but not like in a insensitive way bcs he is TRYING
he's kinda like ekko but STRUGGLING
he is that guy standing on the snack/pad aisle for an hour trying to figure out which one you wanted
this man is a pioneer of science but with you he's just a klutz now
voted most likely to burn himself while trying to fill a hot compress
lowkey panics when you start moaning and crying into a pillow
someone help him
makes sure you have everything you need, pillows and blankets and all
comes back with a crap-ton of snacks because he didn't know which one you wanted
reads to you because you told him that his voice is soothing
you'll end up just cuddling, trying different brands of chocolate while watching some dumb opera
it definitely helps distract you from the pain for a lil while
now onto my favorite skrunkly doo: sevika ✨
sevika is an EXPERT
she has a medal for this, a certificate even
when you were complaining about the cramps, she was lowkey like my time has come
internally happy that she can help/comfort you since she's not normally that affectionate
literally lets you lay down on top of her on your stomach, if that makes you feel better
FOREHEAD KISSES ✨
gives you a massage and runs you a warm bath
ignores silco for you LMAO
sevika checking on you every now and then by pushing away hair from your face and asking you if you're alright
also stands too long in front of the snack aisle and glaring at people to mind their business
thanks for the request! i had fun writing this lol
Pairing: Viktor x gn!reader
Genres: fluff, established relationship, besties!Jayce and Mel, tipsy Vik, cocky bastards, mild jealousy, nothing toxic, spicy behavior implied, Vik being confident AF and yet still so clueless
Summary: Viktor goes for a drink, gets hit on, doesn't quite realize it, needs it spelled out for him, then smugly relishes in this new finding. He's lucky he's cute and you're patient.
Word Count: ~2k
A/N: Trashy run-on sentence in summary is intentional. Cross-posted to AO3. Nothing too serious, just a lil drabble for some seretonin (because the show is sad enough as is)!
It's one thing to be hitting on the love of your life for fun. It's another thing entirely to watch him get hit on by someone else, who happens to not be you, nor his labmate trying to egg him on.
You could be frustrated about it, sure, but it sounds uninteresting considering Viktor’s deep sense of loyalty. He’s also a whole throng of charity gala-goers away from you, and like hell are you going to fight your way through a crowd of rich people just to see what’s happening. Perhaps he’d like the possessive display, perhaps he wouldn’t – either way, it probably wasn’t worth the effort. You quell your mild jealousy, internally congratulating yourself on letting your rational mind win.
It wasn’t that your relationship was secret, but rather that it was private. Various lab researchers knew about it, as did your network of friends, but Viktor had carefully orchestrated his media image as the less-famous ‘father of progress’ to make sure that you weren’t the stuff of tabloids. That worked out well; you’d heard enough from Jayce and Mel to know that a life of publicity was certainly not worth the glamor.
Instead, you sip at your champagne at this corner of the banquet hall, elbow resting on the bar counter. You’re dressed to the nines, like everyone else here, and thankfully most other guests are too busy being schmoozed by Heimerdinger to pay a normal member of the Academy’s teaching staff any mind.
Most. Not all.
Someone with a deep voice clears their throat behind you. Whoever they are, they’re startlingly close, and thus the semi-cough must have been meant for you. Before you can fully turn around to survey your interloper, a light, self-assured snicker sounds nearby the source of the first noise, and it becomes immediately clear who’s just sidled up to you.
“Jayce,” you nod, turning your head ever so slightly in the direction you think he’s standing in but without lifting your eyes. “Mel.”
“How did you know?” Mel appears before you, grinning. She’s radiant, as always–sparkling as effusively as the golden liquid in your flute.
“The next time Jayce tries to sneak up on me from behind with a cough,” you smile, leaning into her as she wraps an arm around your shoulders in greeting. “... Don’t laugh immediately after.”
Jayce grins, stepping around you to pluck two drinks from the bar. “So it was you, Mel! You gave it away.”
“Fine,” she raises her hands in defeat before Jayce presses a glass into her hand. You all take a sip, eyes scanning the room absently. Then you watch as they huddle together, immersed in their love and their own little world. It's cute; Jayce follows behind Mel in puppylike adoration, and Mel helps bolster him into the man he's meant to be.
“Why are you two here, anyway?” It’s a good question; they’re usually the ones trying to curry more favors and inspire more donations, and Mel in particular is damn good at it. For them, it’s a busy evening of hand-shaking and belly-laughter, all in the name of Piltovan prosperity. For you, it’s just another party you’ve been invited to.
Jayce rolls his eyes first, sagging somewhat into Mel’s side. “Needed a break. It may be part of our jobs, but it’s not nearly as fun as it could be.”
“That,” Mel begins. A slight smile tugs at her lips. “That, and it seems that Viktor is faring quite well in that regard this evening.” She raises her eyebrows and tilts her head in his direction, drawing Jayce’ gaze.
“Yes,” Mel laughs, clinking her glass with yours. “One of Piltover’s youngest debutantes, sole heir to the mining colonies’ fortune? That’s her.” Mel gives you a questioning look. “You’re not bothered by that?”
You shrug, finishing the last of your drink. “Should I be? I’ve got no reason to question Viktor, and it’s not her fault she doesn’t know about us.”
Both of your friends raise their eyebrows before glancing at each other. “We just passed by him ten minutes or so ago,” Jayce says. “He seemed to be hovering near the bar a little more than usual, and it looked like he was already three to four drinks deep.”
Now that was worth your attention. Viktor’s tolerance for ethanol was fairly remarkable for someone as slight as him, but you knew that the gala’s bartenders served particularly strong drinks for the purpose of opening wallets. If he was four drinks in ten minutes ago, Viktor could be anywhere near five to eight by now.
“Should we save him?” You ask, but your question falls into the void as Jayce and Mel are whisked away by other Councilfolk. Placing your empty glass back on the counter, you lift yourself onto the tips of your toes to get a better look at the events on the other side. Viktor’s body language seems tense, and the mining heiress doesn’t quite seem to pick up on it. You sigh, allowing yourself a chuckle, before you place a cocktail into your palm and begin to weave across the floor.
Viktor’s face lights up when he sees you, and it’s only when he sways while giving you a small wave that you realize he’s quite happily drunk. He gestures for you to join him, and he quickly introduces you to the mining heiress.
She takes one look at the way Viktor presses himself into your side and does the math; looking mortified, she disappears quickly with what sounds to be the beginnings of a sob.
“What was that?” Viktor asks, snuggling into you a bit more than he typically would in a very public setting like this. To anyone else not trying to attract his attention, his gestures would merely appear to be affectionate touch between friends. But for him, this is loud and obvious; this is far from the perfectly-reserved, prim-and-proper posturing you usually see from him in public. His hand, still gently resting at your back, rubs small circles into you (which you must admit you rather enjoy).
You play innocent. “Whatever do you mean?”
“The girl,” he hiccups. “She was talking to me so intently, asking so many questions about my work and my life, and suddenly she ran off.” Not that he minded; he had been so bewildered by the barrage of questions that he couldn’t fend off with a polite smile that he’d turned to the bottle for a social lubricant. The alcohol hadn’t helped much, as he was just as confused by the attention as he had been four drinks ago, but in the least he was slightly (slightly!) more relaxed. Though now, with you by his side, he thinks that’s more of the effect that you have on him than the alcohol. “I was just about to tell her about my latest proposal; I’ve hypothesized that productivity in the mining colonies could be improved by nearly 45% with far better working conditions if I perform a few tweaks in the equipment–”
He looks so disappointed at being cut off before he could share his plans that you can’t help but laugh.
“Love,” you say gently, plucking his mostly-ice drink from his hands and placing it on a passing steward’s tray. “She was hitting on you. With romantic interest.”
Viktor’s eyes are impossibly large as he stares at you; in part because he’s trying valiantly to focus on his surroundings, and in part because your suggestion is preposterous.
You hum, nodding firmly to verify that you meant what you said. It’s Viktor’s turn to chuckle, his laughter coming out in staccato beats as his body tries to process his liquor.
“No. Certainly not. I have you!” He pulls you in closer to him, just by the soft push of his fingers against your back, just for a few millimeters. Nothing externally noticeable by anyone else but you.
“That you do,” you tell him. “But she didn’t know that.”
For once in his life, Viktor looks puzzled, but you expect that it’s the minor slowdown in mental processing power that he’s experiencing.
He blinks. When he opens his eyes again, the confusion is gone, replaced instead by a devilish, smug gaze. “Is that why you came over here? Jealousy?”
You scoff, pushing at his chest in mock offense. “I wasn’t jealous,” you start. It’s mostly true; you were only mildly off-put by the heiress’ attention. “But it looked like you needed saving from yourself.” You gesture your chin towards the various empty glasses that have yet to be cleared up from the nearby cocktail table he’d been standing at.
“Come now,” he almost drawls. His voice falls dangerously low–you know exactly what that tone is about. You only ever hear it in the privacy of your bedroom (or in the lab, in the dark of the night, when there’s nobody else around). “Not even a little bit?”
You eye him carefully, wondering who possessed your sweet Viktor in the middle of a gala (and nowhere near midnight, no less). You elect to say nothing, but amusement dances in your eyes.
“Hmm?” Viktor crowds in closer, stepping into you a few more millimeters and drawing himself to his full height. His hand moves from your back to trace down your arm; you shiver from the uncharacteristically loud intimacy of it all while hoping none of the other patrons happen to be looking in your direction.
“Not even a little bit,” you declare, and it’s only the tiniest hint of a lie. A cheeky smile finally tugging at your lips, you reach up to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. Then you’re gone, leaving behind the slightest trace of your fragrance and a receding warmth at his fingertips. Viktor swallows thickly, blinking back his arousal before straightening his tie. You can leave the gala whenever you want; he has to stay until the majority of donors are gone. Your departure sharpens his senses as he decides the rest of the evening must pass by much more quickly if he wants to hurry home to you. He contemplates leaving Jayce to handle the rest of the event, only thinking against it when he spots Jayce forcing out a fake laugh in front of some of the usual Academy sponsors.
He exhales and presses down his waistcoat. Energized by his new mission to secure funding quickly so that the gala ends faster, he strides off into the crowds he otherwise hates, and begins rattling off his new research plans.
At home, he later finds you reading in the living room by the soft light of one lamp. When you hear him come in, you look up with a smile. Viktor returns the gesture, draping his jacket over the other end of the sofa before leaning over you and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“Welcome back,” you murmur, eyes back on the pages of your book as you flip a page. “How did the rest of it go?”
“It went… efficiently,” he says.
Something in his voice makes you look up again. You glance at him, then you glance outside to see the illuminated tower clock in the distance. It’s not even ten-thirty and he’s already back from the gala? That’s certainly odd; while Viktor has tried to sneak out early in the past, he’d already been reprimanded by both Heimerdinger and Jayce for failing to carry out these tertiary scholarly duties and had never been home from a charity event before midnight ever since.
“I’ll say…” Your words come out slow and tentative as you bookmark your page and set the book aside. You eye Viktor warily, but he merely gives you what seems to be an innocent grin.
“You’re not excited to have me back? I thought you’d have been more… enthusiastic.”
You blink up at him, remembering that you’ve already changed into your usual loungewear. It’s then that you take stock of him. He seems brighter today, which is quite odd especially after such a draining event like a gala. He stands straighter, taller, and as self-assured as when he’s on the cusp of scientific discovery.
“I’m always delighted to have you back,” you reply. “I’m just surprised that the gala ended so soon. Are you sure you didn’t sneak out?”
“Quite sure.” He strides around the couch and rests his cane against it before extending a hand to you. You take it, getting up, though you’re still puzzled by his behavior. Not that you mind it; it’s wildly attractive, but you do wonder what’s gotten into him. But then his hands are in your hair and his lips on yours, drinking hungrily, and you’re putty in his embrace.
Later, as you try to catch your breath from Viktor’s unexpected oral attention, he pulls you tightly into his arms and presses a kiss against your ear.
“You most certainly were slightly jealous,” he murmurs. “But I quite enjoyed it.”
“You didn’t even realize she was hitting on you until I told you!”
Viktor doesn’t reply to your objection; he only smirks and pulls you in tighter. “That may be,” he laughs into the skin of your neck. “But I don’t hear you complaining about that.”
distraction | viktor x fem!reader (she/her)
summary: continually engrossed in his work, it seems that viktor can't function when he has to talk to a fellow student, a pretty girl, from the academy for the first time. it can't be that bad though?
author's note: this is my first time writing for viktor, or even the arcane fandom, i understand he's ooc in this but i just love the idea of him being all blushy and flustered! enjoy :)
if there's one thing that viktor was not, it was distracted, he was married to his craft - a chronic workaholic.
everyday the thin-frammed man would be either hovered over an experiment, standing infront of a blackboard with chalk in hand using it to etch various information onto the board, or even simply sat at his desk going through papers. the first of the three scenarios had been presented to piltover today.
everyone understood that viktor had a greed for knowledge; he needed to understand the ins-and-outs of everything that interested him. in his mind nothing would distract him from his goals.
knock, knock, knock!
"excuse me?" the call of a foreign voice followed the slew of soft and timid knocks on the lab door which was laying ajar to help circulate some air into the room, per heimerdinger's request.
viktor's movements ceased and his gleaming golden eyes were torn from the project he had been tampering with at his desk. his sharp, angular features slightly scrunched up in confusion at the sound of the new voice that had disturbed the peaceful silence he had been working through - save for the soothing clink of his tools working at various bolts and screws.
he turned himself slightly to better view the entrance; the mans eyebrows drew together as his honeyed irises peered to see who was at the door, they landed on you.
it was as if in that moment, everything clicked into place. viktor's facial features relaxed, softening as he took in the sight that was in front of him.
beams of sunlight shone through from outisde of piltover into the workspace washing you with a heavenly glow that made you appear to be near angelic; the way in which you hair sat looked as if it were a crown bestowed upon the head of royalty, your lips looked plump and kissable. the longer viktor stared at them the more ideas and possibilities sprang to his mind.
your body too... the man decided that it was a whole other can of worms he did not want to entertain opening in that moment. viktor felt that it required far more regard than to be just skimmed over in his mind haphazardly, especially not while you were standing right before him.
though his wandering eyes definitely noticed how great your figure looked in the academy uniform...
the scientist mentally shook himself, aware that he had kept you standing there for long enough while he basically gawked at you. he was suddenly so hyperaware of himself.
did his hair look decent? what about his clothes, were they satisfactory? or worse, would you perhaps be able to notice the purple eye bags that adorned his pale complexion on the regular?
clearing his throat while fidgeting, he went to speak. viktor had moved his mouth to produce hopefully what would resemble a "what can i help you with?" or maybe if confident enough a "to what do i owe the pleasure, miss?" though it was wishful thinking on his behalf; when he tried to talk his throat seized and had suddenly dried up. it was like viktor's body was betraying him.
a scarlet blush had now dusted his face, the man gulped, trying his best to clear his throat so that he could respond so as to not make him look like a fool in front of whoever you were. the last thing he wanted was you thinking that he was some creep that holed himself away in his laboratory, who hadn't the slightest clue how to socialise.
someone who didn't know how to talk to pretty ladies like yourself.
"i-" he croaked out, voice failing him once again. shit.
clearly, viktor didn't know how to talk to pretty women.
"help- you need?- fuck-" he painfully spoke through his heavily accented voice, the latter word had been muttered to himself in frustration.
viktor's face cringed with every stumble and mistake he made before you, the blush only worsened the more he talked so he resulted to just closing his mouth. why was this happening to him now? viktor couldn't for the life of him understand why he couldn't speak, or even form a coherent sentence. there had been plenty of times he had been nervous throughout his life, why now did his voice give up on him?
as the seconds passed, your confused gaze had began to make the man antsy. the scientist's calloused fingers reached out and fiddled with a screwdriver he had been using before your interruption.
viktor didn't dare to look up or else he knew his face would flush darker than it had already, which was already a considerably dark shade much to his desire.the room was silent, he opted to stay quiet and wait for you to hopefully respond to save himself from any further embarrassment. after a few seconds, you spoke.
"yes..." an awkward moment of silence passed, "uhm, i don't suppose you know where i can find..." you stopped talking, eyebrows drawing together beautifully as your sparkling eyes peered down at a slip of paper in your hands, "professor heimerdinger?"
before he could stop himself, viktor raised his arm, stretching out his pointer finger to direct outside into the hallway; your interest piqued and in response you turned to look down the hall, back now faced away from viktor.
the flustered man was finally able to let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding in. his cheeks remained heated and flushed, though he couldn't help but notice that he felt disheartened without having your full attention. then he pulled his hand down, grabbing something to fiddle with that would distract him from his rapid heart beat.
gulping to clear his throat, he spoke up "he's at the other end of the hallway..." viktor shyly muttered to you, his eyes peeked to the door from looking towards the gadget in his hands.
he felt an exciting spark of electricity run through his usually tired body when your eyes met again, it made viktor wonder if you had this affect everytime you bore into everyone's eyes. it made him question how one singular person could be so alluring.
you were a stunning and dazzling complexity which viktor had an insatiable want to uncover and explore. he wanted to know you, understand everything there was to understand about you, and he wished to discover each individual quirk there was to take in until his brain would numb with the thought of you as a constant.
"thank you... viktor isn't it?" you had questioned with a nod and casual smile that made him feel like he was floating, like he could take on the world. he felt the flush creeping onto his cheekbones for yet another time since you'd torn him away from his tampering, the man nooded more excitedly than he had intended to, bashfullness taking over.
you knew his name? the thought made butterflies explode inside his stomach, a sickly feeling taking over. hearing the way you made his name sound special drove his mind crazy.
though viktor didn't seem to mind the affect you had on him, not when your eyes creased as you smiled after noticing how red he was. the sight was truly something to behold, viktor was sure that your happiness had the ability to heal the sick and wounded, it was so contagious that he caught his own lips starting to upturn, trying to reflect the unbridled glee before him.
"i'm y/n," you held his gaze yet again as you spoke, smiling as you did so, "thank you for your help viktor, i hope you have a nice day!" turning away from the scientist with a gentle wave, your feet carried you away from the laboratory and down the hall to find heimerdinger.
"m-my pleasure!" he had stuttered as you left, quickly getting himself up from the desk and scrambling with his cane to look out the door down the hall, desperate to get a last glimpse of you.
it was such a pretty name. viktor believed that it fit you just right, like it was made for you.
a large exhale was released, his shoulders relaxed, and the blush remained against his ivory skin. viktor's eyes caught you just as you stepped into the professor's office, he could hear the yordle greeting you merrily from the doorway.
once the door closed and you had left his sight, he let out a sigh, turning himself to lean against the wall inside the lab before returning to his desk to hopefully resume his tinkering as previously. he brought up a hand to drag down his face in the hopes of refreshing himself.
viktor let out a huff, head lolling onto the headrest.
he knew it was no good and that he wouldn't be able to focus on his experiment; your smile was all he saw when his eyes closed, and the way you said his name rang in through his ears since you had gracefully taken the time to utter it.
he smiled to himself, uncharacteristically giddy inside after the encounter.
viktor hated being distracted from his work, though he quickly found himself not minding how the thought of you made him feel like a young boy again.
perhaps, you were a welcome distraction to him.
°•°•°•° reblogs, likes, comments, and feedback are appreciated! °•°•°•°
HCs for cuddling with Viktor
Viktor x fem!reader
Warnings: nothing I don’t think!
Requested: by anon, How bout some viktor cuddling hcs my dude
I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator
Author’s Note: he is adorable and im in love with him
- I truly believe that if someone holds this man long enough he will start sobbing
- he’s chaos, he’s grace, he’ll let you hold his face
- I imagine that he doesn’t like to be touched in general because he’s scared he’ll get too attached
- he acts like the very idea repulses him so for a while, it’s more of a intelligent relationship then a cuddling or physical one
- until one day you find him out
- you kiss him and he leans into your touch, letting your hold his face in your hands, his eyes shut in pure bliss
- he has never had anybody really because his life has been so focused on his work so it’s hard for him to rectify the idea of allowing someone to get close enough to touch him with any romantic intentions
- once you figure it out you abuse it completely but try not to let him know because if you do, he will pull back
- he likes to be held
- he is literally one bad move away from completely breaking in half so being held makes him feel safe, though he would never admit it
- he likes to be able to see your face whenever he wants so he’ll bury his face into your neck and look up at you whenever he thinks you aren’t paying attention
- not really one for PDA but he will hold your hand whenever he can; it’s one of his favorite forms of intimacy
- no throwing each other over one another but always having a finger linked or a hand on your thigh or your hand on the nape of his neck
- things that technically a really close friend could do theoretically, if friends were into holding hands
- he likes to lay across you, head resting on your chest
- sometimes though you get to be the little spoon and his arms are around you, feeling like he could protect you from the world
- you play with his hair, he rubs circles into your skin
- he could tell you random science stories for hours, truly they never end and it would send you to sleep if he didn’t sound so excited when talking about it
- you told him once you liked his voice and he ran with it, not that it bothered you
- sometimes it’s an event in and of itself
- cuddling and talking, complaining about the day, explaining new Hextech gadgets or something stupid Jayce did
- sometimes the speaking fizzles out and you both fall asleep in each others arms
- other times you end up in laughing fits that could probably kill Viktor if you don’t constantly have eyes on him
- sometimes you’ll sit in the office with him while he’s working just so that you can rest your head on his lap and he’ll play with your hair
- you listen to his ramblings, he gets to spend time with you
- Jayce is never in anyway these days so it’s usually just the two of you
- when Jayce does come in he likes to make fun of the two of you for being so close but in reality, he’s just happy Viktor has something other than Hextech
- he thinks you guys are adorable <3
- Viktor thinks he should mind his own damn business <3
Helo, I request soft domestic Viktor/reader,,,
Soft domestic shit coming right up!
You ran the pads of your thumbs across Viktor’s eyebags that seemed to darken with every passing moment you shared together whenever applicable, all the while pressing a kiss upon his forehead and the several strands of hair positioned there albeit being a little lazy to move them aside. Quiet moments like these are a rare thing to come by seeing as Viktor was always busy with his work and you with yours that when you do find the time to settle down and drink in one another. It’s absolute bliss. Being able to admire all the features you loved up close and personal rather then afar like his cheek bones, the slope of his nose, his hair, his jawline right down to even his worst insecurities because to love Viktor was to love every aspect of him, even the parts he deemed unlovable.
Your tender touches awoken him as his sleep glazed eyes peered up at you through his eyelashes, softening when he saw how soft your features were that he found himself sinking further into your hands, sighing in relief while his muscles relaxed in the moment of domesticity. Viktor wasn’t stupid. He knew his busy schedule and lack of proper care were the main cause of your worry and concern so much so they started to form lines upon your face; lines of which he’d find himself tracing gingerly on nights where sleep evaded him. He knew you weren’t stupid either. You knew what it would entitle when you first started dating and respected his work and boundaries as he did yours but the longer it went the bigger the blossoming worry became whenever he came back as if he was the walking dead. He knew you cared for him even if you didn’t say it because you were already telling him you cared for him by running your thumbs under his eyes, through his hair, across his jawline and cheeks with that look in your eyes as if your looking at an ethereal being that you thought of him as because he did view you in a similar light. You’ve told him you cared for him through the smallest of actions like helping him get dressed, making sure he is eating, well hydrated and taking breaks when necessary without being too suffocating nor overbearing knowing how bristly and overwhelmed he could get.
“Good morning my dear.” He said, voice soft as velvet yet warm like a fire, taking one of your hands in his and pressing a light kiss to it before letting it go back to caressing his jawline. “Good morning my pioneer.” Viktor scoffed lightly at the teasing nickname you gave him and only him before the concept of dating; Yet he couldn’t help but smile when he heard your little chuckle at his reaction. It was silly but it meant so much as it brought back flashes of when you first met and how Viktor became aquatinted with your character that if the question of telling your younger selves that you’d one day be laying in bed together, minds miles away to a distant future where you’d be living your lives together elsewhere, they would’ve sheepishly called your bluff before avoiding one another as if that would prevent the inevitable. “After all this time and you still call me pioneer?” He raised his brow at you, eyes sparkling teasingly. You shrugged, pressing a kiss to his forehead cussing him to close his eyes and bask in your closeness and warmth. “What can I say? It suits you because not only are you the smartest Piltover has ever seen but your also the pioneer of my heart.” Viktor couldn’t help but laugh, resting his head against your chest, wistfully wanting this moment to last forever, “can always count on you to make a moment sentimental and cheesy simultaneously.” This earned him a light smack to the back as you spent the rest of the day sharing kisses and future aspects upon sweet whispers of affection being shared.
Sellsword | Viktor x Reader | SFW Pt. 1
Premise: You and Viktor grew up together and became each other’s rock. You lost touch after being forced to leave and find your brother who went missing. After years of getting by as a skilled sellsword, you arrive in Piltover for a new job, and to catch up with the man you always vowed to protect.
Warnings: This part is SFW, but the next part will be NSFW. Just fluff and reminiscing in this one. Mentions of physical disability & light teasing about it (from kids), fair warning.
(This is long, buckle up lol)
Viktor had never known another friend like you. Comrades had always been a rare thing for him, especially as a child.
He thought about you often, even as the years went on without another sight of you. Each day that passed, Viktor kept you in his memory—in those longing thoughts for what used to be.
Viktor pondered one specific day in particular. You were floating in the river, carefree as usual with your face to the warm summer sky. Viktor stood there hesitantly on the bank, leaning into his cane, dressed in his own tattered swim trunks.
He couldn’t help but take in how easily you relaxed and found wonder in the small things, despite coming from the undercity like he did. Viktor seemed to bear the weight of that reality much more than you did, as you never let it deter you for even a moment.
“Are you coming in this time, Vik?” You had called from in the water, glancing his way.
Viktor swallowed hard and adjusted the cane beneath him, as if that were an answer in and of itself. He gave you a weak smile that vanished faster than it appeared.
“Come on, Viktor, it’s hot out today. It’ll help you cool off,” You returned, rolling back into a crouched position in the water. You waded there despite it being more shallow, eyes on Viktor sympathetically.
“I don’t know...” Viktor said quietly, casting his eyes down.
Viktor wanted to swim with you like he always wanted to, but his leg made it an intimidating feat. He was afraid of the short distance he would need to move in order to climb in. He didn’t trust his legs to get him there without embarrassment.
“You shouldn’t have to watch me have all the fun. I can help if you’d like.”
Viktor felt a slight wave of guilt at that. He didn’t want to need help. He wished he could run in with you and not have to worry about his body giving out on him. It made things much harder for him.
Viktor took a deep breath and slowly made his way closer to the edge, leaning against the cane all the while. He toed the edge and looked down at the water as it ran by and glistened beneath the sun.
He wanted nothing more than to feel the cool sensation against his skin, and to be there with you. His one friend willing to stick by his side through it all. Viktor was always afraid of letting you down, no matter how often you stayed anyway.
“Looks like the cripple is attempting to swim today.”
Viktor noticed how quickly your head turned at the voice of a young boy stood across the river on an elevated rock face, on the border that lead to topside. Several other kids stood around him and snickered, all eyeing Viktor maliciously.
“Not when he slips and falls first!” Another sneered in his direction.
Viktor’s heart shattered immediately, and the shame washed over him. His eyes fell to his feet and he cursed that setback of his.
“Shut up!” You had shouted at them, standing at your full height in the river.
Viktor lifted his head at the sound of your voice, and he wanted to tell you not to defend him. To not get yourself on their bad sides too.
But you were different from the other kids. Born with a natural skill when it came to defending yourself and others, they didn’t mess with you. The damage your fist could make was known among the children of Piltover.
You reached for the river rocks below and chucked them in their direction, narrowly missing as a warning.
“Shut your mouths or I’ll bury you!” You screamed at them, teeth grit all the while.
The kids scattered at once with their squeals, afraid of what you were capable of. Truthfully, you were just as much of an outcast as Viktor, since most of them feared you and your fiercely protective nature when it came to the boy.
Viktor swallowed hard while he watched them run as fast as they could, and the last rock clunked against the ground. He heard as the water was disturbed, and he noticed you were half a step away from him, hand extended.
“Don’t listen to them, Viktor. They’re a bunch of snot-nosed brats,” you growled, visibly trying to shake the anger. “I’ll help you in, just trust me okay?”
Extra weary from their taunts, Viktor found it hard to do just that. His wide eyes met yours, and in that moment, he felt as those fears were quelled just enough for him to put a hand in your palm.
You arranged yourself accordingly to help Viktor find a more comfortable position, dropping his cane. Carefully, you guided him into the water, completely unfazed by the assistance.
It never bothered you, in fact. It was a quality about you that Viktor was eternally grateful for.
Viktor sucked a breath in at the water’s cool sensation until his skin had the chance to get used to it. Even so, Viktor took those steps into the river with your help, moving into the deeper area so he could float more comfortably.
When Viktor was submerged enough to float and wade in the water, relieving the weight from his legs, a wide smile spread across his face. He shared that giddy look with you.
“See? It’s not so bad, is it?”
Viktor shook his head with a small bubble of a laugh, slowly moving away from you as his confidence grew, releasing your hand to his dismay.
Your laugh in return warmed his heart immensely, and Viktor made sure to commit that sound to memory.
“You’re a natural, Viktor!” You giggled, watching as the boy lifted himself to float in the water.
Viktor was overjoyed by the small victory, so much so that he even closed his eyes to soak up the sun’s warmth. He didn’t usually bother with swimming, thus he missed out on many fun summer days doing exactly that.
The two of you splashed around for a time, pushing against the small current all the while. You were sent further down the river little by little by its natural push, and neither of you paid much attention to it.
However, the current seemed to grow stronger after a while, and it wasn’t until Viktor slipped on a rock and was swept away that you realized just how far out you were.
Viktor panicked all the while he tried to reach for something to grab, only to come up short. His heart pounded and the fear got the better of him.
“Viktor!” You shouted at him, quick to swim through the rapidly moving current.
You were always a strong swimmer, but you were afraid of the speed he gained from losing his resistance. He thrashed in the water, calling out to you with raw fear in his tone.
The drop-off was nearing and Viktor knew it. His heart clenched and he closed his eyes the moment he felt the edge. He hoped it would be painless, at the very least.
But your hand clamped around his wrist and suspended Viktor in the air, moments away from falling into the river below. It was scarily high, and both of you froze.
Viktor watched as you tried to hold both of you above the small waterfall, fighting against the current at the same time. With your feet wedged in between the rocks below, you just managed it despite all odds.
Even with your strength, there was no way you could pull him up again. Viktor was too afraid to try and climb, so it was ultimately up to you.
Slipping little by little, you knew there was no choice.
“Viktor, we have to jump. But only when I say. Make sure you hold your breath!” The genuine concern reflected in your eyes, along with that sure conviction. “I’ll find you again, don’t worry.”
Viktor’s heart pounded all the while, but he had no other option. He nodded, trying to push back the fear.
Your determined eyes were the last thing Viktor saw before you yelled ‘now!’ and kicked yourself off the ledge, consequently throwing him farther away, hopefully sparing him from any rocks below.
Viktor resurfaced with a gasping breath in much deeper water than the stream. He coughed up the water he couldn’t help from taking in, thrashing around for dear life.
“Y/n!” Viktor screamed in between gasps, and he tried to catch a glimpse of you.
Viktor was afraid you hadn’t thrown yourself far enough, and were unconscious in the water somewhere. Helpless within the depths. That thought nearly killed him.
But the hand around his arm forced him to stop his flailing. Viktor was pulled into you while you panted, sure to keep him close. You paddled over to the bank and helped Viktor climb up.
“I’m so sorry, Viktor,” you murmured to him, and pulled yourself out of the water, completely drenched. You sat on the edge and met Viktor’s eye. “I should’ve been more careful. I shouldn’t have pushed you into doing it.”
After Viktor regained his bearings from his place in the grass, he only felt the rush of adrenaline he so rarely knew. Since you were both safe when it was all said and done, all he could do was laugh.
Viktor easily recalled the startled look on your face at his own strange reaction. The amusement bubbled up inside of him until you had no choice but to laugh in return.
The two of you laughed as if the most hilarious thing had happened, like you weren’t in the most dangerous situation either of you had ever encountered.
Eventually, Viktor laid back in his spot, to which you followed suit and found a place next to him. The hot sun beat down and worked to dry you off.
“Don’t be sorry, it was fun,” Viktor giggled, staring up at what little amount of blue sky was let in through the outskirts of the city. The rare sight of normalcy that wasn’t found further inside the undercity.
“That’s a way to put it,” You returned with a humoured lift in your voice.
Viktor never forgot the way you brought so much light and joy into his life, where he often found an absence of it. It was always an easy thing for you, and Viktor held that quality about you close to his heart.
But that solid, trustworthy friendship was taken from him before he could truly understand why you were the most important person in his life. Viktor’s heart broke the day you confided in him about your brother’s disappearance.
It was known he was involved with some gritty people—people you tried to stay away from despite being a zaunite. But Viktor never thought you would be dragged into it too.
You left to find him. To make your mark in the undercity before you were even a proper teenager. Even if you had to take down each criminal just to do it, you were going to find your brother and bring him home.
You promised Viktor you would return for him, and he committed that promise to his memory and heart. But by the time he was recruited for the academy in topside, there had been no sight of you. You were like a ghost lost in the belly of the city, too far from his grasp.
He felt the ache of his loss every day since then, and the longing he felt to be with you again never ceased.
But as you stand below in the city square, Viktor can’t believe his eyes. There you are, after all those years, alive and in the flesh. From inside the lab, he can’t help but ogle, wide eyed and heart racing.
If he could run, he would. But Viktor only leans into his crutch and tries to get a grip of himself.
You’ve arrived in Piltover, with business unbeknownst to him as you shake hands with Heimerdinger and a few higher-up enforcers. He needs to know what has changed, and where you’ve been, for what little he understands about the situation from his place is agonizing.
After some time of waiting, Viktor’s world is turned upside down the moment the lab door opens, and a wave of familiarity fills the space. He turns to see who it is, only to freeze in his place.
A chill runs up his spine at the sight of you, followed by a rush of warmth in his face. He has waited years for this moment and Viktor can’t fathom it.
“Y/n...” Viktor murmurs just above a whisper, eyes growing large with each emotion that circulates inside him. It’s almost too much to handle, and he doesn’t know how to digest it all.
Jayce smiles at Viktor’s immediate recognition, and he gestures to you, just as overcome with all the feelings you two once shared.
“Y/n was telling me she knew you growing up, and I thought it was time you two caught up,” Jayce says, lingering by the door. He points toward the hall. “I’ll leave you to it then.”
Viktor doesn’t have the capacity to hear Jayce’s words or say anything in return, for he’s so engrossed in the sight of you that nothing else matters.
While the traces of your child-like appearance remain in small fragments, you’re grown up, just like he is. Your face is more carefully contoured and primed with age, your body is that of a woman—one seasoned by rigorous activity and strength.
You’re beautiful, and Viktor’s mind short-circuits at the realization.
“Viktor,” you return softly, offering him a gentle smile as you approach him, arms already extended to embrace him.
Viktor jolts at the sudden impact of your body against his, arms wrapping around his midsection, but he quickly eases into it, fighting back the tears that gather in his waterline. He secures his arms around your shoulders and allows himself to lean into the embrace.
The warmth of you is agonizingly sweet against his chest, and Viktor can hardly recall the last time anyone has hugged him or shown him any sort of affection. His world had been colder without you, and the rewards of having you near are immediate.
“You’re taller now,” you chuckle into his chest with one last squeeze before you pull back and gaze up at him. “I guess we both are.”
Viktor manages a lopsided grin despite the strong pull of emotions within his chest, and he sucks in a rigid breath. “A decade changes many things.”
Verbalizing how long is has been since Viktor last laid eyes on you seems to hurt even more, and he can’t help but notice how the swell of sadness comes through your features.
“I suppose I have a lot of explaining to do,” you say, mournful of all the lost time.
Viktor leans against one of the tables and invites you to do the same, in which you remain close to his side. “Before you get into the rest of it, what are you doing here in Piltover?”
He gazes down at you, taking in each and every fleeting emotion that runs across your face. It has been so long since he’s had the chance to look at you, and Viktor refuses to let that opportunity slip through his fingers.
“I signed on as an instructor at the academy. I’ll be mostly training the enforcer scouts.”
Viktor’s heart pulls at what that means, and he swallows hard. He can feel as his body sings with hope. “So you will be staying in the city then? You’ll be here?”
Viktor nearly melts at the sight of your genuine smile, and the sensation of your hand in his palm. He has to double-take, for even the slightest signs of affection shake him down to his core.
“Yes, that’s right. I’ll be here in topside for the foreseeable future,” you hum, clearly just as relieved by the news.
Viktor can hardly take it. The sight of you and the face he so dearly missed, finally returned to him at last. The dearest friend he ever had, back in his life. He does his best to hold back the tears that threaten to spill.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear that,” Viktor croaks, barely able to form the words.
“I’ll be here for you now like I used to be before,” you manage, pressed against his shoulder to offer him what comfort you can. “But hopefully with better critical thinking skills.”
Viktor chuckles at the sentiment and discreetly wipes at his eyes. “What happened, y/n? Why were you gone for so long?”
“When my brother vanished, I caught wind of who had taken him. I had to jump through hoops, exhausting every lead I had until I got him back from the gang he got caught up in,” you begin, preparing for the long-winded explanation you know Viktor deserves. “He was with me for a few months before he was claimed by Shimmer. It turns out, he was dealing it. When he found himself in a tough spot and unable to pay his debts, he returned to it, and it killed him.”
Viktor’s face softens and his hand gently squeezes your own. “I’m terribly sorry that happened, y/n.”
With a deep breath, you continue. “Of course, the moment he wasn’t alive to pay the debt anymore, the gang expected me to. So, I did what I do best, and I became a sellsword. If a terrible man needed to be taken out and I was promised a payment, I did it. I’ve taken more lives than I can count, but at least it helped clean the streets of some of the worst criminals in the undercity. With cash in my pocket, I paid the gang little by little until I struck a deal under the table with an enforcer. If I took out as many of the grunts as I could, allowing the boss to be arrested, I would be untouchable by the law. I would be let off, and I wouldn’t have to pay the debt back. So, I did exactly that.”
Many thoughts and emotions ebb and flow through Viktor all the while he listens, struck by how extreme it all sounds. He never knew what became of you, and to hear it, Viktor doesn’t know exactly how to feel.
“You became a mercenary?” Viktor presses, as if he didn’t believe it the first time.
You nod, visibly afraid of what Viktor thinks of you. “Yes. I’m not entirely proud of it, but I did what I had to. There was nothing left for me to do when my life was on the line. I only ever wanted to save my brother and make the undercity a better place, even if it meant killing those who deserved it. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry this happened, Viktor.”
Viktor’s chest clenches the moment he hears the regret in your voice, shattered by the weight of it all. Instinctively, he puts an arm around you and keeps you close, paranoid that you might be swept away from him again. “Don’t be sorry, y/n. I understand why you did it. What matters is that you’re out of it now and life can be different for you. For us.”
“You were always the sweet one out of us, Viktor,” you say, much to his surprise. Leaning into his contact, you continue. “I missed you every day I was gone. After my brother died, I wanted nothing more than to come back home and see you again, to make sure you were alright. But I couldn’t risk pulling you down with me, not when things were so dark. I couldn’t do that to you.”
“I know, y/n. Please don’t beat yourself up over it. You’re here now and that’s what matters,” Viktor returns kindly, heart more at ease with the explanation.
While it wasn’t the life he hoped you would have, Viktor can’t be angry with you, or resentful of your past work. He knows all too well the dangers of the undercity, and what it takes to survive.
You stand up fully and embrace Viktor once again, keeping him tight in your arms. Viktor is less surprised this time, and he gladly holds you since he wasn’t able to for all those years.
“I won’t leave you again, Viktor. You hear me? No matter what happens, I’ll always be here to protect you. To make sure you’re safe and content.”
A small chuckle comes from Viktor at the muffled reply, and his hand caresses your back absently. Those heavy yet explosive feelings inside him come alive at your declaration.
“Having you near again has done exactly that. But I’m afraid not much danger occurs in the lab.”
Pulling back just enough to gaze up at Viktor, you cock a brow. “Does anything ever blow up? Or catch fire?”
Viktor makes a conflicted sound. “Ehh, occasionally, I suppose.”
“Perfect. Then I’ll be here to make sure you don’t blow the place up. How’s that?” You muse, dropping your arms from the embrace, much to Viktor’s dismay.
He longs for the warmth of you once more, yet Viktor watches how you turn on your heel and gaze around the lab, arms folding behind your back. “So how did my dear Viktor end up in a place like this?”
Viktor’s heart races at your interest, but his usual bashfulness returns with his shrug. “It’s kind of a long story.”
You give him a smile from over your shoulder with your enticing response. “I have more than enough time. I want to know everything, and don’t spare the details.”
A hopeful sensation simmers within Viktor’s whole body, and he swallows back his reservations. It doesn’t take him long to realize his adoration for you has swelled tenfold, and those feelings are even deeper than he initially thought.
Viktor is overjoyed to have you back, yet he can’t help but feel like he’s in over his head.
He is completely and utterly in love with you.
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
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.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
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!”
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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•Viktor Being Jealous•
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."
Stay with Me
Morning After Headcanons
Pairing: Viktor x Reader
Warnings: a lot of fluff, suggestive themes
A/N: Quick blurb to refresh my mind!
You'd wake to Viktor pressing warm kisses against your forehead.
The corner of your lips would upturn at his display of affection, causing you to snuggle even more into his side.
"Darling, I have to go."
"A few more minutes," You would whine, gazing up at him with a pout and the biggest puppy eyes you could muster.
He caved in, as he did every time.
You knew he secretly loved lazy days.
He'd trace gentle shapes on your back, nearly causing you to fall asleep again.
That man was a wonder with his hands, decorated with callouses yet so gentle and soft.
You'd press butterfly kisses down his neck, appreciating the soft hums he'd make in response.
He'd run his fingers through your hair, playing with the strands as he did with his own when he was nervous.
"You're so warm," You'd mumble into his chest causing him to let out a small chuckle.
The expression on his face made your heart ache, being filled with so much love.
You'd hook one of your legs around his in an attempt to pull him closer, the skin on skin contact making you feel like you were almost floating.
"How are you feeling?"
You'd respond with a very genuine, "Sore."
He'd become bashful at your response, slightly blushing before apologising, "Ahh I'm sorry."
"Don't apologise, it's a good kind of pain."
League characters finding out you have a crush on them!
Aphelios, Sett, and Viktor
Aphelios- Aphelios doesn't flirt, think about flirting, or notice your attempts at flirting. He just thinks you’re very friendly. It’s only when Alune begins pointing out your frequent stuttering and constant need to be around him that he begins to connect the dots. When you finally get the courage to confess, he’s as nervous as you, cheeks turning red as you tell him your true feelings. When you ask if he feels the same way, he quickly nods his head and holds your hand, his mind racing with ideas of what will come next.
Sett- Sett is a huge flirt, and he loves it when you flirt back. He’s always had a hunch you weren’t really kidding and decides to tease you about it until you confess. He starts getting closer than usual, touching you more, and making “jokes” that leave you wondering whether or not he’s serious. One night, he says it out loud: “I know you’ve got a thing for me.” He completely catches you off guard, and the look on your face squashes any chance of you denying your feelings. He only laughs and wraps an arm around you before kissing you on your cheek and telling you he feels the same.
Viktor- Viktor has always thought you were far, far out of his league. His feelings for you were strong, but he was content with having someone as amazing as you as a friend. One day you are sitting together in comfortable silence, just enjoying each other's company when you catch him staring at you a few too many times. He gets incredibly flustered when you joke, “Do you have a crush on me or something?”, leading you to ask him again, more seriously this time. He admits his feelings shyly, rambling about how you don’t have to feel the same way and he doesn’t want to make things awkward. He finally stops when you kiss him and tell him you’ve actually had a crush on him for a while, causing his face to light up. He takes your hand and brings it to his lips to kiss it softly, and you spend the rest of the evening in each other’s arms.
— melody of the moon . viktor x pianist ! reader
synopsis . "not all art forms are as pretty as the media portrays them." in which the sweetness you once shared with viktor throughout your childhood starts to disappear, and with that comes your downfall.
genre . hurt/comfort, fluff every now and then but more towards the end
warnings . lowk mean vik (but not intentionally), self deprecation (reader) , hints towards [self] harmful habits (reader - these are not romanticized), sensory meltdown (pretty vividly described. would not recommend reading if that upsets you), minor ooc viktor, czech viktor (pet names, plz lmk if i incorrectly used any and ill fix it) a few spots are completely unedited. if theres any more i should add lmk
words . 12.4k
note . tbh this was v self indulgent (as most of my works are) considering i play a wide selection of instruments and do many other hobbies lol. it started from a cute "omg imagine vik and a pianist rdr and he listens to them play in the academy" to this, where i wanted to capture and show how art forms like music and painting and writing isnt as pretty or beautiful for the creators as the world makes it seem. behind the pretty things we make there is suffering, in the way that you are collapsing in on yourself and what you enjoy seems more like a job or a chore than a hobby. ive read this fic over like 4 times and have never been satisfied with it but id rather post it now lol. anyways im talking too long here read the fic :)
the undercity was not a forgiving place. it would not cradle you in its arms of manmade steel or kiss you with chemical lips, no, it would pierce any delicate little heart with green-tinted skies – if you let it. this was common knowledge, to little ones and grown ups alike.
you did not let the polluted city deconstruct you. it was seen in the amounts of sheet music you had collected from bars and streets, and the gentle sound of your playing in the night when the streets were finally silent. whether it be on broken wood or untuned keys, you found a way to indulge in such a hobby, until it became all you knew. you were not popular, but there were at least a small number of people (which you could count on your fingers) that knew of your music in the night.
of these people was a boy on the taller side. he was not a stranger to sitting in on your midnight performances, and occasionally, he would slip a compliment about a certain piece you played before disappearing into the night, his accent thick on his tongue. although those were the only words he would ever exchange to you, you were grateful for his presence. he made your young heart flutter in a way that you could not describe in any language, his company and his admiration being something you sought each and every night.
conversations between you and the boy were not shared by mouth, but instead, by notes. some nights you would pound on the dirt-ridden keys until your fingertips burned, and it was those nights where he’d run away and come rushing back with a first-aid kit in his hands, a dorky smile on his face despite his concern. some other nights he would sit against the wooden legs of the piano as opposed to sitting atop a bumpy rock a handful of steps away, and some other other nights you would play so quietly, as if replicating raindrops. he seemed to enjoy it all the same.
there was a special day, however, one you keep close to your heart, that you will eternally treasure, where the quiet boy completely spoke to you. he nearly rushed to your little spot, an ivory-colored envelope in hand, a grin wider than the sun’s rays on his pale cheeks. his words gushed out of chapped lips, eyes lit with such excitement that even you could not express in a melody, and it was not until he pulled out a second letter, sealed with the same piltover symbol, that you too were overwhelmingly excited. and it was that day that he spoke to you, so close, that you could feel his minty breath on your nose, the joy dripping from the corners of his mouth falling onto your skin and lighting you up completely. the clank of his cane echoed against the surrounding stone as he gripped your hands tight, crumpling the paper of the envelopes evidently though not intentionally, before saying with an accent that would engrave itself into your life, “my name is viktor, and we will be successful together.”
☾ ♫ ♩ ♫ ♩ ☽
the golden streets of piltover were not familiar to either of you. it was a stark contrast to the littered concrete pathways of the undercity that were uneven and contaminated with cracks that bore dirt and plants alike. but eventually, you told yourself, these golden streets will become my home.
in truth, you were still unaware as to specifically why you and viktor had been invited to piltover’s beloved academy. you hadn’t taken the time to read over your letters, but you trusted this man enough to believe you were there for good reason.
supposedly, your talents that were once hidden in the streets of the undercity were recognized by the academy, and they saw it fit to give you both an opportunity at growth. that same day, you learned viktor was a great engineer and scientist, and you felt a bit guilty for not witnessing his work when all you knew was him witnessing yours. he did not notice such a thing, and for that, you were grateful.
the citizens of piltover looked at you in either disgust or intrigue (although, not the flattering type of intrigue) as you traversed the gardens and the halls of the academy. you would return such looks, while viktor would merely ignore them, grabbing your hand to pull you over to something he found interesting. you couldn’t blame him, of course. this was new territory, a new setting full of possibilities that you would both have to get accustomed to – which required curiosity.
and of course, you were curious. there was no room or hallway or balcony left unviewed, no seat left unsat, no elevator left unridden. you were determined to make this a place of comfort for you, for this was the place where you would finally excel.
☾ ♫ ♩ ♫ ♩ ☽
a handful of years passed. you watched viktor become heimerdinger’s assistant, and you congratulated him as he progressed with his work. your admiration for him never faltered, although sometimes, you would consider it a hindrance in fear of it becoming an obstacle for both of you.
on your end, you entered competitions and performed at events, and the music room quickly became your home. it was difficult to become familiar with the piano at first – the keys were not in the same awkward tuning as before, and the sound was much louder – but you had learned to play with the unfamiliarities.
growth came swift for both of you. however, in this rapid advancement, you had failed to realize the drift between you and viktor, caused by the dedication you both had for your own separate subjects.
you only came to such a realization when he quietly entered your dorm room one night as you were playing, the light from the hall peeking in through the crack of the door. he dragged himself in, nearly collapsing beside you as you heard the sound of his head hitting the wood of the stool. “continue,” he urged in a raspy, hushed voice, a voice much older than the voice that belonged to the boy of the undercity. it was not only his voice, though. aging was normal, but it scared you sometimes, for you wondered if one day, you would receive news of his doom simply because of his overexertion. in short, you worried for him. the fear of losing him and being left alone was not one you could easily shake off.
at his request, you played, played until the tender blisters on your fingertips stung, until your arms arched, until you could not hear anything but the notes and the soft breathing coming from beside you. the moonlight caressed his hollowed out cheekbones, melded into gentle tufts of hazelnut, and flooded onto his lap. it was as if the youth of the night melted away the blemishes of his face, albeit only temporarily, starting with the heavy bags beneath his eyes and the weight upon his blackened shoulders. you relished in it.
the piece came to an end, viktor’s gaze falling upon the floor. there was a silence, until he leaned his head against your thigh, looking up at you as if you had crafted the world with your bare hands. the action alone made you crumble. “that was wonderful,” he complimented, a small smile tugging at the ends of his lips. he cleared his throat a bit before continuing, cheeks smeared with a smidge of red — he prayed the darkness of the night concealed it. “i apologize for… not being as present. we’ve, ehm, grown apart a bit. something i feared for quite a while.” he spoke in soft tones, as if he was scared that if he spoke too loud he would shatter you and the walls that kept you safe. even so, his accent remained prominent. “truthfully, i have always been admiring you-” he coughed for a moment. “you and your work, from afar. you’ve improved a lot.”
“as have you,” you responded, smiling down at him. you closed the piano, careful not to let the cover slam down. “and, as much as i’d like to continue this conversation, it’s rather la-”
“no.” viktor reached for your hand, and held it as tightly as he did that day in the undercity. his grasp, so warm and yet so rough, tugged at the strings of your heart you so desperately wanted to tie away. “please. let me stay a bit more. i fear i may not have more time tomorrow, or the day after that, or even after that. so please, let us converse here.” you could not help but chuckle as you gave into such a plea.
you made space on the piano stool, urging him to sit beside you. “let us catch up.”
☾ ♫ ♩ ♫ ♩ ☽
soon enough, viktor had fallen asleep beside you while you were rambling on about your own studies. his head lay in his crossed arms against the wood of the piano, eyelids closed as if they hadn’t been closed in days, or perhaps even weeks. you let him rest there, afraid to move him in fear that he would wake up from what seemed like a nice slumber, and you retreated to your bed.
however, you could not sleep. it had reached a point where you stared at viktor’s slouched form in envy, because no matter how late in the night it was, you had not been granted rest. it frightened you, since this only made way for your thoughts, both peaceful and daunting ones, and rushed ideas would brush through your head, statements without a full stop or parenthese to close them off. you could not keep track of them. and of course, most of them were about the man sleeping right in front of you.
soon, the charcoal hues of the night were painted over by soft shades of morning clementine. your eyes ached, burning with a desire to simply sleep. unfortunately, you had to cast such complaints away, as the morning was nearing and there was, in fact, still a person sleeping in your room.
you tried your best to silently tiptoe through the piles and stacks of clothes and books and papers strewn across the floor to reach the kitchen, where you made a simple egg and toast. it did not take a genius to sense that viktor’s eating habits were lacking. you figured you would treat him, just this once.
eventually, he awoke, smiling at you with sleepy eyes and a yawn. he approached the table, trudging along with his cane, his cold hands just barely ghosting over yours as he leaned in to examine the meal. “it looks delicious.” his words came out sleep-worn and low, the lopsided smile on his lips almost reaching his cheeks. he gave you a small thanks before digging into his plate, content written on his face, the reaction making your stomach fuzzy.
you could get used to this. a little sparkle in your chest hoped that maybe, he could too.
but that was the last you saw of him. he left as if he were never in your dorm at all.
☾ ♫ ♩ ♫ ♩ ☽
the scientist was right about not being available for the next handful of days. you heard no word of his status, and when passing through the halls, his co-workers muttered something about him being contained in his room for longer than he should’ve been.
unfortunately, there was no time for you to be fussing over his personal life. as much as you wanted to worry, you had to practice for an upcoming event. supposedly, you were playing at a ball hosted by piltover’s council, a way to form connections between the various nations of valoran. this didn’t exactly excite you – surely, there’d be rumors of your past in the undercity, and you’d have to sit through the entire event and mingle with rich people, and so on. the pay was nice, however, so you took the spot.
as usual, you would play into the afternoon, then continue into the late night, praying to no god in particular that somehow he would hear you through the gold-framed walls of the academy (or, maybe you just craved validation). breaks were rare, which gave you more time to perfect your pieces. strings of moonlit dust slowly fell into the room, seeping through the linen curtains and casting themselves onto the grand piano set in the middle of the music room. you could’ve sworn there were dents in the keys from how much you pressed on them, the same notes repeating on your fingertips like a mantra. dizziness plagued your mind as you stared blankly at the keys you swore you had memorized, the room around you seeming to fall and sway, an effect of your tunnel vision. with perfection came distress, you supposed.
you allowed for your head to fall into your calloused hands as you groaned, the weariness of your work finally hitting you. perhaps, this is how viktor felt when he overworked himself with his experiments. you vaguely recalled him ranting last night about the exhaustion that washed over him whenever he simply sat down to think for once, his description of it rather weird to you before, but far too understandable now.
it was always viktor this, viktor that, swimming around in your pretty little head, even if he wasn’t around. honestly, you felt a fool, a fool who could not set their own thoughts and doubts straight. he haunted you without even knowing it.
you weren’t sure what you were to him. after all, you didn’t know much about him, vice versa. his birthday, his last name, something as trivial as his favorite color — all of them were a blur in the unknown to you. you were simply the pianist he had encountered in the undercity, it was simply a coincidence he heard your melodies in the night, and it was simply a coincidence that you had both been accepted into piltover’s academy, just as simple as that. to obsess and fall for him like this made you feel guilty, almost. the repercussions of love would strike back, said the little voice in your throat. to succumb to infatuation would only hinder you both.
you banged your head on the keys, paying no mind to the possibility that some student was passing outside and heard the noise. please be over soon, you pleaded to no one, for you could not bear the ache in your heart.
☾ ♫ ♩ ♫ ♩ ☽
the ball came and went. you absolutely dreaded the entire event, your fingers still sore from the long night. thankfully, you didn’t have to participate in many conversations with those who were far above you in terms of status – you would have embarrassed yourself, truly.
afterwards, you had fallen back into your routine of morning classes and afternoon practices, occasionally stopping by the school’s library and café late in the night before bed. then came the loop of massaging your hands every couple minutes and closing the piano lid in raw frustration only to open it again soon after, staring at sheet music until the notes blurred together and the rhythms were no longer countable.
it was a routine of destruction, but it resulted in beauty regardless.
however, today, someone else occupied the practice room that you often sat in. in your spot sat a boy, perhaps a little younger than you, thumping away at the keys you learned to love.
you were not envious of his skill or his youth or his passion, but instead, envious of his simplicity. sure, simplicity could be found in you and viktor, but now that you were by yourself, there was nothing but raw and disgusting self-desolation. there was a palpable difference between you both, for he lacked furrowed brows or burning red fingertips, and you lacked his pure calmness, the ethreality in which he sat with and conveyed in his tunes. he was smiling, even, the soft upturn of peach lips barely noticeable behind his cheeks, evidently proud of his work. of course, you were not going to say it was bad or sounded terrible or was void of emotion, because that was all it wasn’t, and that was what you longed for. the underwater reservoir of your heart rumbled, the pretty concrete pillars that you built for years upon years from the ground up finally cracking just a bit.
it was not until he ended the piece that he noticed you standing in the doorway, jaw hung just a bit loose in sugar coated awe. he struck up a conversation to greet you and the interaction passed by, your words barely engraved in your memory. he left with a simple goodbye, leaving the piano you once recognized as yours up for grabs.
simple, simple, simple. his easiness had you lost, and yet, you wanted so badly to replicate it, to wear that same soft smile and pass through practice as if it were quick work, not a chore or a wall or an enemy. you did not know his name, couldn’t even remember his face, but you wanted to be him so bad, so then people would look at you the way you looked at him.
so you sat. you felt the warmth on the chair that was once his pass onto you, the feeling uncomfortable while you tried to adjust.
you were hesitant. the desire to conjure up the beauty in which the boy had encapsulated right in front of you was so violent and unrestrained it burned you, burned your lungs and your dry lips as you struggled to cast away the envy and the longing to be him, to have that grace and overwhelming simplicity. jealousy was not an uncommon experience in art. but that did not mean it didn’t hurt you any less.
the sheet music sat in front of you, a new piece you had recently been assigned to learn. it wasn’t like you couldn’t read it, no, you could — you could piece together the rhythms and the chords and every sound almost perfectly in your head, but you could not convey it with your hands. perhaps it was the fear that you would not be as great as him. you were more experienced, you knew that, but you were flawed. marred hands and tear-stained cheeks were no stranger to you. you never wanted to rid yourself of them so bad.
you breathed deeply once, as if to blow away the unquellable sea of thoughts raging in your head, and you played. it sounded just as you had heard it in your mind, albeit a little awkward at the beginning, but it was going smoothly.
until it wasn’t.
the elegance that the piece should’ve been morphed into tornadoes of notes, your hands pressing harshly against the keys in not anger, but misery. you were reminded of the boy and his disgustingly excellent simplicity, his easygoing smile and perfect posture, the way he held himself up as if he were a god. you knew, you knew that you were not bad, that you weren’t exactly worse, but he brought a beauty to the art form that you have not once experienced. it was crushing you from the inside.
you slammed down an awkward chord midway through the piece to take a moment to breathe. you inhaled and exhaled as if you had been granted the privilege to do so, your mind blank and your eyes numb as you sat still.
this was bad. it was bad, terrible, revolting. you could stop it, maybe, if you wanted.
but you did not.
☾ ♫ ♩ ♫ ♩ ☽
it was as if the world was against you (it most likely was). viktor had returned from a week of non-stop experimentation, and had snuck his way back into your life all while you were in the midst of falling apart. it began with small talk, which was eased into ten minute passing periods. he would speak of building and formulas that you couldn’t wrap your brain around even if you tried, because you were a musician, not a genius. eventually, it would grow into full blown conversations, where he’d catch you studying in the library or in the gardens and greet you before diving into random topics, like the weather or your own hobbies or sometimes the most absurd concepts, like the sleep schedule of a snail. of course, you cherished these moments, you did, but somehow, someway, you managed to deceive yourself, your heart screaming that they were just tidbits of entertainment for him. there was no real emotion or meaning. just small syllables spoken back and forth to pass time, and you hated it.
you loved him, you really did, but he acted like he never sunk into the depths of his lab for hours on end without break, like he didn’t smile at you under the moonlight, like he didn’t drift away from you the moment you both had a chance at success.
it bugged you. but you did not speak on it, for you clung onto the little hope of restoration left inside of you in fear of being left alone.
you played along. slipped into his lab when you had the time and spoke about meaningless things. you talked about groceries and the funny thing your professor said in class the other day and the ladybug that flew through your window. this continued for days, to weeks, and you were content, because you were not lonely, and you were reminded of his presence often enough. maybe it was selfish. you would be a liar if you told yourself you were only doing this for the comfort of him being there. eventually, it also became a scapegoat, a way to cover up the stress bubbling up like bile in your throat.
viktor seemed to enjoy the company, but you figured it was only for the humor of it, because why else would he return with seemingly no care for his disappearance? it did not matter to you. you were finally piecing back together what once was — at least, to you, you were. if this is what it would take to fill in the viktor-shaped hole in your chest, you would do it. the longing was too strong to ignore.
such extenuated bliss would not last long. throughout the mini conversations and the giggles shared through lunch breaks, the envy that sprouted from your own field of study resurfaced (it was funny to you, almost, because all your time was spent admiring his subject and straying away from yours), at first gradually, then like a breaking dam.
you found yourself sitting in awe at your peers once more. not in the way that a child looks up at their favorite superhero, but instead in pure jealousy. of course, it was normal to be proud of your classmates, but for it to gnaw at your ribcage and tear apart your soul in this way was not. their progress only reminded you of your lack thereof. you were at a stopping point, you believed, where it all fell flat and everything became repetition without reason. because what were you supposed to do when you were reminded of your place in the academy? you hadn’t fought to get this spot, nor had you begged for it. it was granted to you, a luxury that those of your kind weren’t often given. that didn’t mean you’d be babied or treated specially — it just meant you had to prove yourself more.
you would do anything to be the star and not just the muse, because to you, it felt like you were locked in a stasis of watching those around you move forward flawlessly while you grasped at air for any bit of evidence that you were worthy of doing just that. you wanted to tear apart your sheet music, send your piano crashing down a flight of stairs, erase all contact you had with music, since it brought you nothing but anguish.
☾ ♫ ♩ ♫ ♩ ☽
although it looked like the exact opposite, viktor had been taking note of your downfall of sorts, through the rambles and fleeting conversations. he noticed you would not return til deep into the early morning, a great contrast to when you would often greet him with a goodnight in the early evening. the sight of your calloused hands and red-rimmed eyes plagued the man’s science-filled mind. he saw the callouses in your fingertips and the creases in your forehead and the unevenness of the hair in your brows, he noticed, he knew it all. he began doing comparisons of the past and present to get a grasp on just what was going on — because he cared. he just did not know how to express it properly, his body and mind and soul too consumed by work to understand how.
but it seemed as if this caring went unnoticed by you, and instead, only made matters worse.
viktor had finally released the breath he had been holding for centuries and approached you carefully, his voice nearly a breath, a whisper in the wind. it had been a long while since he spoke to you like that. he sat on the side of your bed as you flipped through thick paperback books that wore dust and stains alike (you told him someone else was occupying “your” music room — playing in the tightness of your dorm wasn’t as great, though) and treaded the waters lightly, bringing up the work you’d been putting yourself through and the energy you’d been exerting, all while staring at your back because you did not once make an effort to turn around to face him (you figured this was more small talk). and eventually, it led to him being straightforward, because his patience was thinning the more he tried to drag it on.
“you’ve looked quite tired recently, and it’s concerning me. surely, it wouldn’t hurt to… take a break for a bit? you don’t have to constantly work yourself to the bone,” he spoke, his accent hanging thick in the air and his worry evident.
there was a silence that followed after, the soft background noise of random notes coming to a halt as you breathed once more. the boiling water was, at last, tipping over.
“take a break? oh my god, viktor, look at yourself!” you quipped back, gesturing towards his frame with your hands. “i don’t think i’m delusionsal but i could’ve sworn you were trapping yourself in that stupid lab for days. and you want me to take a break? bullshit.”
the reaction was unexpected, for both you and him. you appreciated his concern, it made you feel whole, like you were not a ghost in the wind, but you couldn't help but scoff at the audacity.
had he truly waited this long? a bitterness welled up in your guts as you thought it over. there was no way he did not just now notice. you bit your lip, the maybes and what if’s passing by viciously. maybe he didn’t care enough. maybe he didn’t know how to say it. maybe he was just too scared.
you wanted to be genuinely angry at him, to throw the lamp on your table at him in pure and utter irritation and disappointment, to scream at his stupidity. but you could not. not when his eyes, despite being shaken with shock, held a grip around your heart.
viktor was desperate to calm you down, swallowing down the sourness in his mouth before spilling out, “well- i know, but i just don’t want it to happen to you too-”
“you cant be serious! it’s always been progress with you, always- always moving forward and getting better and accomplishments and all that shit. you don’t understand how bad i want this, how bad i need to work! i need to prove i deserve this spot, because everyone and everything right now seems to be telling me that i don't and i know i do, but- i just- i have no proof for it.” your breaths were speeding up at this point, your chest heaving with the need for air. not only that, but the air was becoming louder. you could feel the breaths of the wind on your skin and it was so cold, like a stab. you felt too mad. this reaction was not necessary at all. but you needed to continue, to empty out the contents of your piled up stress and weariness, even if none of it made sense. “you wouldn’t get it, vik, because you’re always doing so fucking good that you never have to stop and doubt yourself for even a moment. you conceal yourself in your little workroom and do all that shit and move on as if it was nothing, as if you didn’t lose hours upon hours upon hours of sleep and you didn’t lose at least a bit of your sanity.” viktor could only bite the inside of his cheek as he watched you and your walls break down before him, unleashing an ocean of melancholy and despair that had been contained for too long. “maybe you should consider that i want that! i don’t want what everyone has, i want to be them! i can’t just sit down and breathe for a moment like you can, i need to put in my heart and body and soul into this no matter how much it hurts because i need to show that i am not a lost cause and that- that i’m worthy of something.”
everything seemed to be slowing down and speeding up all at once. your face was numb, as if it were being pulled apart and stretched to inconceivable lengths. you could hear the twitch of your fingers as you yelled, your throat dry and sharp all at once. a tremble erupted for what felt like eternity through your leg, a subconscious attempt to distract yourself from the doom crawling on your spine. everything was happening all at once. the walls were crumbling, your blood was audibly pulsing and you could feel your veins move and pump in your arms, your teeth were scraping against each other, and the flesh of your cheeks was fucking rotting.
it was like you were watching yourself collapse. it was stupid.
“i cannot stop.” you could not process the dying down of your voice, or viktor coming up to you to root you back to earth, or the lightheadedness that pounded and chipped away at your head. your words came out muffled and tiny and broken. “if i do, i am nothing.”
there was a shared silence. you felt like you had sobered up in a second, but there was an echoing buzz in every limb, every corner of flesh, and it scared you. had you said too much?
viktor stood in front of you, his expression apprehensive as he approached you. he almost looked terrified, his hand hovering above yours for a moment before dropping down to his sides — it made you want to cry.
“let’s go for a walk. in the garden, at the back.”
☾ ♫ ♩ ♫ ♩ ☽
“...and the crystal just sort of… exploded. i mean, it wasn’t bad, but it was definitely shocking. it was a tiny burst — could only hurt, say, an insect.” you hummed as you listened to viktor’s rambles, his words just barely reaching your ears. “but, i guess that just means i have more to explore. in order to make progress, you must explore even the darkest corners sometimes.”
“wow. i didn’t know you were one for inspirational quotes, viktor,” you giggled, a teasing lilt to your voice. he returned the laughter, smiling as he jested, “it’s my new side hobby. science gets rather boring sometimes.” viktor had managed to immerse you so well into his mindless babbles that you didn’t notice the small dents in your thigh, formed by the rhythmic drumming of your fingertips, the same ones worn by time and practice. you also failed to see your other hand fidgeting with the hem of viktor’s sleeve — but that was only because he did nothing to stop you.
“you’d be pretty good at that. well- you’re good at almost anything.” the last part was almost muttered. you were going too fast again, letting your unfinished thoughts spill out from the cracks between your teeth haphazardly. “it’s amazing, really. you always seem to be capable of rewriting the world — it makes me a bit jealous.” a bit was an understatement. “so many possibilities at your fingertips. the only possibilities for me are… winning more competitions and performing at the same balls and the like,” you chuckled, albeit a little awkwardly.
your footsteps matched each other, the clack of soles against the concrete humming in the air as you walked loops around the flower-filled bushes. wisps of wind danced around, kissing your once burning skin oh so tenderly.
it was peaceful.
you ran the thought back in your head. it was peaceful. it was quiet and soft and there were no loud noises banging around in your skull. instead, there was only the voice of an overthinker and the soft sigh that elicited from viktor’s throat. “i think the opposite. in fact, i think you have a handful of opportunities lined up for you that you are more than worthy for. and it’s more than that, you are excellent outside of your music. so do not say otherwise.” you bit your lip at the response.
“well, yes, but look at you,” you spoke with a smile, one that could not be distinguishable as genuine or forced. “you’re so ahead of me, ahead of everyone. ...sometimes i tell myself to hate you for it — of course, i don’t, but fuck, vik,” you breathed in heavily before looking at him. “it’s a miracle no one has torn you apart just for an ounce of your skill. because honestly, i might be the first one to.” the joke slipped out so easily, but the man wasn’t really having any of it.
“first off, please do not come after me like that. i do not want to have to prepare myself for such an attack.” the comment was half a joke, and half serious. “second… i did not know you felt that way. i’m sorry,” he spoke quietly. an apology was the first thing on his mind, and the last thing on yours. he did not care whether or not you asked why, but the answer would be simple either way. he was sorry for not reaching out sooner, for not trying to help at the start, for not being there when you needed him most. the list ran through his hand repeatedly, as if it were bound to haunt him forever.
at this point, you both had stopped at a stone bench placed underneath a tree, strings of sunlight hitting both of your faces, however, neither of you took the initiative to sit down. instead, viktor looked at your arms and hands as if to ask permission to touch you. you caved in.
viktor’s embrace was awkward and rough, but warm. he held you with one arm, his other stiff at your side for him to lean against. the touch was not covered in flowers and butterflies and it did not make you feel like you were in the clouds, but it made you feel at home. like you were safe, despite the way the fabric of his shirt clung a bit to the rashes left by the stressed scratching and rubbing of your skin, and despite the way his arm squeezed yours, so tight, like if he were to hold you a little looser you would slip. “your insecurities do not define you and they should not obstruct you. you, as a whole, are wonderful. it would not harm you to take even a moment to rest — not only do you deserve it, but it pains me to see you stress yourself with something that should be a talent you love and flourish,” he murmured into you, his words spoken from the bottom of his heart. “you are perfect as you. there is no reason to compare yourself to me, or anyone else. after all, look at me. you are the epitome of elegance and i… well, i cannot say much.” he chuckled softly.
you’d be lying if you said you did not want this to last forever. but forever was never really a good thing for you.
he let go of you, awkwardly placing his hands at his sides, switching his gaze from your stained cheeks to the flowers, back and forth. you sighed heavily as you fell into the seat behind your knees, leaning back against the polished stone and ignoring the way it uncomfortably poked and prodded at your back. “thank you, viktor.” his face lit up at the way you spoke his name, the little lovestruck gears in his stomach turning around. fortunately, you did not notice. instead, you exhaled deeply, staring up at the gaps between the branches and leaves above you.
“we’d go days without meaningful conversation — it scared me,” you muttered mindlessly, both to him and yourself, voice raspy with remnants of tears. “it felt as if i lost everything. but it never felt like you lost anything. like it was only you and your work against the world. so i suppose… everything, the jealousy and the emptiness just sort of clashed together. i never blamed you, though. the pursuit of excellence takes time, as you’d say.” you could not bring yourself to look at him completely just yet.
“i felt meaningless, vik. i know you didn’t mean to, but when you came back and disappeared and came back over and over again, and then now i find that you do care… it all threw me off.” there was much more to say, but you held your tongue in fear of your voice becoming wobbly again.
you caught a glimpse of golden eyes in your peripheral, his pupils full blown at your declaration. his lips cracked open, ready to spill with another apology or line of comfort, but instead came silence. the words would not organize in his head. he wanted to tell you everything he noticed, the change he witnessed in you both physically and mentally, he wanted to ramble on about how he saw the burning pink in the corners and saline coating your eyes and the cracks in your lips and the rips in your hands. no coherent strings of thoughts roamed his mind, but he tried — for you.
“můj miláčku,” he began in his mother tongue, then returned to your mutual language. “there has not been a second where i have not worried for you. i have always cared, and i have always noticed. i apologize for making it ever seem like i didn’t. i witnessed you go through hell and back once. i will not let it happen again.”
you wanted to sob.
“i’m well aware my… work obsession can appear distant. i can assure you i don’t intend to make it look like that.” he held your fingers delicately, before whispering, “you are the sun and the moon and every celestial body in between, i would never intentionally look away or cast you off.” here he was walking in unexplored land. this talk was unfamiliar to both of you, and quite forward. but it was a good leap. “should you ever feel… unworthy, insecure, anything of the sort, please do not hesitate to come to me. i would be more than happy to listen.”
you placed your head on viktor’s shoulder, muttering into his clothes a quiet “thank you.”
☾ ♫ ♩ ♫ ♩ ☽
any chance of a break had been robbed from your hands. a few days after, a noxian-sealed envelope lay at your doormat, the letter being an invitation to an event in which you would play alongside other pianists. it was supposed to be a non-competitive gathering, a show of skills to hopefully get sponsored by some rich person from who knows where — but of course, one could only hope and pray for such a thing when you paired together several musicians from different nations, who all wanted fame and glory just as much as everyone else.
it excited you, at first. not only was it a free trip to noxus (this was rare, considering all of your performances were held in piltover), but it was a chance at proving yourself. proving that you were capable of everything your peers were, despite your upbringings from the infamous undercity. however, foolish guilt bit away at your bones for being so accepting of the offer when you should’ve been taking a break from the music scene, as viktor wished. at the time, unfortunately, you pushed away such apprehension. you were desperate to prove yourself just as deserving as the others, and this was your chance.
this confidence was only torn apart, crumbled, and crushed into pieces by the hands of your “competitors,” who had done nothing but perform. they did no wrong. but you loathed them all the same, for they unintentionally deconstructed your poppy-filled lungs and lit your cheeks aflame as you played beside them. the end results only deepened this false hatred — you watched as many other performers were offered opportunities and donations through the night, your little corner staying barely touched by the feet of the rich who came to watch and give. the few others who shared your discomfort soothed you only a bit.
your return to piltover was embarrassing, to say the least. you had come back empty handed, no award or recognition or honor to show off.
upon your shameful trudge back to the academy, viktor greeted you warmly, congratulating you despite your lack of accomplishment. he noticed you made no effort to get out of your performance outfit, the cloth hugging every inch of your skin so perfectly that he wanted to hold you then and there. but he did not. no, he had to restrain himself, because you came first in his mind. “you did great, either way. i could care less if you did better or worse than the others,” were his exact words. his words were beyond genuine, and instead of dwelling on the subject more, he offered to make you dinner so you could rest for the night. to him you were eternally grateful. an anchor that you had not requested, but one that came to you regardless. it made you giddy inside, little rays of sunshine peeking through the spaces in your ribs with every drop of attention and care he gave you.
the change was startling, at first. before you would’ve cursed yourself and the heavens for ever fawning over the man, but now, you reveled in the comfort, drank every bit of it you were gifted. you were a fool beyond words, your ability to fall to his feet so easily making you just a bit nervous.
viktor made a nice plate for you, urging you to dig in and relax for once. he played a record to “set the mood,” the sultry voice of the singer bouncing around the room and into your ears, and he congratulated you on your efforts once more. a smile, tiny but not unnoticeable, tugged at his lips, his face warm as he drank in the way you did your hair and the fancy shoes you put on just for this performance. he did not care if you were ashamed of your performance or not. you looked the part. with a mere glance, if he were one of those rich fools, he would’ve offered every bit of money he had to you. truly sublime, he noted to himself.
afterwards, he walked you back to your room, rambling about a new coffee flavor he’d recently found interesting, before sending you off with a goodnight. it was in these little acts that you remembered your roots with him. the little boy on the polluted streets who cared enough to sit through your tunes every night was now treating you to a meal. you smiled fondly at the thought, the once steady rhythm of your heart speeding up just a little bit. you could get used to this. maybe he could too.
but in the euphoria of the night, you failed to prepare for the morning and its blows.
☾ ♫ ♩ ♫ ♩ ☽
the sun was just barely creeping over the horizon as heimerdinger called you into his room to discuss his plans for your future at the academy specifically. you were weary with sleep, but tried your best to listen to every word he had to say.
“now, i have reconsidered this decision many times. there have been moments where i have thought about letting it slide, but those thoughts were… proven useless, as i was shown time and time again that i must treat all my students equally — that stretches onto, well, punishments.” you played around with your fingers, a way to calm yourself down just a little bit before the brick fell onto your head. the yordle continued on with his speech of sorts. “your participation has been lacking, to sum it up. we’ve talked about this before,” he breathed heavily, as if preparing himself to drop the bomb. you most likely have talked about this risk before, it just never sat in your head, for you were too deep in your desperate practices and fits of bitterness to ever comprehend it. the consequences were hitting now, you supposed. “there’s been a steep decrease in participation and performance — at least, that’s what’s on the report that was sent in.” the little man folded his hands beneath his chin, his elbows digging into the table before him. “...and, your event the other day only… strengthens my point, i suppose.”
you did not respond. if you did, the saline pricking at your eyes would’ve spilled over.
“i have always believed you deserved a chance at success — i feel exactly the same for your friend.” the reference to viktor threw you off-guard. this only rubbed salt in the wound, a disgusting reminder of how truly inferior you were compared to the talented scientist. you wanted the best for him, however, and you’d be damned if you let yourself be a factor towards viktor’s failure. he sighed, looking down at the tabletop as if he were guilty. “however, my disappointment has not wavered much over the course of the past couple of months. it is with a heavy heart that i send you off. not with anger, but with care. i… believe this can also be a moment to step back and breathe. you may need it. i recommend packing your bags before the sun completely rises, to avoid drama and whatnot. you know how the students gossip in the halls,” he chuckled emptily at his lackluster attempt to brighten the mood. “we at the academy will miss you dearly.”
and that was that.
you exited with a nod, your throat dry with silence. that was that. you were done, and any status or any sort of acknowledgment you had tied to the academy was cut. you did not plan on informing viktor or anyone else for that matter. it was too much at the moment.
the fact that your pitiful spiral into an anger and harmful passion so red, so detrimental to yourself (and maybe those around you) was so obvious sent a pang through your chest. this was the fruit that grew from your time spent wallowing in self-pity, from the irritation at yourself for being so stupidly consumed in jealousy of others’ progress that you could not notice your lack thereof. at the same time, however, it felt like no matter how much strenuous effort you poured into the music, you would never move forward.
perhaps the professor was right.
your dorm room sat still, despite the clutter invading nearly every corner — there were countless books stacked along the walls (you were too lazy to invest in a bookshelf, but it was always a passing thought) sticky notes and random papers were tacked up, dust and spiderwebs left unattended for months collected, but you did not care, for you knew once all of your belongings had vanished from this room, someone would come clean it all up.
you began with the smaller things, like binders of sheet music or potted plants you had been gifted over the years. then it grew into things like your clothes and blankets, then you were left with a bed and a piano. it made you giggle, almost, how those two things were the only pieces of furniture you really maintained. your bed sheets were made and the lid of the piano was free of dust and closed. a small photo perched atop the instrument, one of you and viktor on your first day at the academy, stayed in its spot, for you did not have the heart to pack it away just yet.
truth be told, the heaviness you felt in heimerdinger’s office didn’t linger as you cleared your room. it was therapeutic, almost. like you were tearing apart the pieces of your life that reminded you of things you did not want to be reminded of.
on the topic of things you did not want to be reminded of, viktor burst through the door, hair disheveled and cheeks red as if he hobbled without break (which he most likely did).
you watched as his eyes, constructed of mined amber and stardust, widened dramatically at the emptiness of your room. “what is the meaning of this?” he questioned almost accusingly. his gaze pierced through every bit of you, making holes through your skin and muscles and bones and everything in between. “do not move one bit. i need an explanation first.” you could not tell if he was furious or concerned.
“well- i was talking about this with heimerdinger for a while, and i guess he… figured now was the right time.”
the man shook his head roughly, brows furrowed in utter confusion. “that makes no sense. heimerdinger isn’t stupid enough to do something like that? to just… kick you out?” you picked at the skin on your lip as you realized viktor was firm in his belief.
“that’s so easy for you to say, vik.�� your voice cracked. you did not want to give such a speech once again, but you could not help it. “you have never experienced the downfall of your sanity so harsh that it consumes you whole, because you are always progressing. i’m proud of you for that. but it is because of that, that you are also blinded. you don’t see yourself crumbling into little tiny pieces that you cannot pick up yourself. you’re just so… easily successful.” a sigh slipped from your lips as you messed with the hem of your shirt. blood was rushing to your cheeks, not in the warm and fluffy way, but in the way that you were so dizzy with brimming annoyance. you loved viktor more than ever, you would tell yourself that time and time again, but you could not help but feel irritated at his failure to understand that not everyone could simply move forward like he did. “heimerdinger is right in his decision. i’ve reached a hole too deep to salvage myself out of. you are… a fool to think otherwise.”
viktor’s face contorted into one of genuine worry. “surely, there must be something we- i can do? i could- i don’t know- ehm, talk to the professor about this? we could convince him, or-”
you grabbed his sleeve before he could turn around even a bit and whispered pleadingly, “don’t. i don’t want to drag you down with this. this is the result of my own mistakes.” it hurt to send him off, because all you wanted right now was his utter support and comfort and for him to hold you again, tight and lovingly and warmly, and for him to rush into heimerdinger’s office and speak whatever came to that pretty little mind of his first. but you could not wish for such things when everything you spoke to him now was true. this was your fall, so you would take the blow alone.
viktor looked at you as if you were mad in the head.
“drag me down? are you crazy? so you’re just going to let them kick you out? just like that?” you cast your head to the side, somewhat embarrassed to confirm his worries. you dragged your gaze up, watching as his face softened just a bit as he realized you were going to let it happen, his scowl fading before he looked back at you. “...alright. i cannot force you.” he slipped out of your grasp, dropping his arm to his side and staring you down, not with malice, but with betrayal. he was the one that promised you success in piltover, and yet here you were denying any chance of it. he did not loathe you for your decision — once again, god forbid he did — but that did not stop the pang in his heart. however, he did not want to hurt you once more. if that is what you truly wanted, he would give it to you in a heartbeat, because he believed you deserved everything you ever wanted. he stepped out of the room, giving you space and giving himself time to think.
☾ ♫ ♩ ♫ ♩ ☽
and think he did.
within a week, you were back. you had absolutely no idea why, but you were standing back in the same dorm, the corners uncomfortably clean, while a few others helped you move your stuff back in.
everything had been placed back where it was before you left. this was not the plan. this was not your idea of self-reflection. your piano beneath the window, books stacked beside the legs, and a rack of bags and hats on your wall next to your door. it was oddly neat, in comparison to the way you had strewn your clothes and mess along the floor with no care to clean any of it up. but now you could see a walkable path, even with all your belongings.
it was disgustingly unfamiliar. you did not like it one bit. you were back, and it was suffocating you.
during your return, there was no word of your scientist friend anywhere — not even his name was muttered. you supposed it was what you deserved, considering you hadn’t kept in touch with him in your absence. an eye for an eye.
your classes picked back up as usual. you didn’t make any promise to yourself to work harder or put more effort in class, because if you did, falling back into that hole you did before would only feel much worse. you did well regardless, catching back up to the class and regaining the love for your talent without fail.
you were doing so good at making this a routine. you could’ve sworn you were making actual progress for once, remaining on a straight path and finding joy in what you saw jealousy in before. of course, until viktor placed himself back into your routine once more, this time, less cautiously.
he’d been standing outside of the door to your class, his foot tapping against the ground impatiently. he wanted to speed up time or anything of the sort, just to get to you faster.
when you finally stepped out, his heart stopped.
you didn't go through any drastic change, obviously but it was like he was charmed by you for the first time, his breath hitching completely.
your eyes widened at the sight of him, his hair noticeably ruffled and a few tufts misplaced, and his suit a bit wrinkled. “viktor?” you muttered, astonished to see him before you as if he weren’t real. your books slipped an inch from the sweat on your palms, the man reaching out a hand beneath them with his free hand with an awkward chuckle.
“you’re back,” he breathed out, grinning from cheek to cheek, a sight you were not familiar with. maybe a little upturn of his lips, a smirk, but not a smile so big that you could see the pure joy spilling between his pearly whites, his gums stained with a new innocence you had not seen since your days in the undercity.
his excitement had you taken aback. “i… yes. i guess i am.” an awkward chuckle slipped its way out from your throat, as you were still confused. “i mean, i’m not really sure why i- wait.” you paused, looking viktor dead in the eye, his smile not wavering. as if he wanted you to figure it out. “you did this?”
“of course i did. why else would you be here right now?” he urged you to follow him down the hallway. hesitantly, you trailed behind him, recognizing the path as a way to the observatory.
you rarely went to said room, considering you had no interest nor business with it whatsoever. however, it looked polished, something you were not expecting. you thought that, maybe, there would be dust here and there and there’d be a few cracks in the floorboards or the walls, considering how old the academy was. perhaps, this was another one of viktor’s plans. you wouldn’t be surprised if it was.
the man ascended the stairway, his dress shoes clinking against the granite steps, motioning for you to follow suit. you were so close that you could feel the fabric of his sleeves on yours and his fingertips, strawberry kissed and blister-burnt, against your hand as he walked. he did not seem to notice, however, as he spoke in warm tones, his other hand fiddling with the fabric of his pants. “ehm… while you were away, i made something in my spare time,” he began, fumbling with the leather.
“spare time? i didn’t know that was in your dictionary, vik,” you giggled, the nickname making his heart flutter more than it should have.
“well- i mean, in the time that i was waiting for professor heimerdinger to accept my… request.” he thought about the way to place the words, rearranging them in his head because he could not help but let your plea for him to stay out of the situation loop around. he stood beneath the center of the glass dome roof while you took your spot beside him. “um, anyways. i figured, while i was waiting, i should make something for you.” he stepped forward before stopping to say, “ah, cover your eyes,” while his smile grew, little creases in his cheeks forming. at his request, you closed your eyes and covered them with your hands, resisting the urge to peek through your fingers.
the clank of metal against metal was the first thing you heard. your excitement increased as he told you to remove your hands, your gaze meeting his then the object he now stood next to.
the last remnants of the sun reflected off the glass of the telescope that viktor set up. it was no regular telescope, though, for it bore designs that you figured he made himself. engravings of planets and galaxies alike were littered over the metal, along with a little sticky note on the side that was written in a different language. “pro mou hvězdu,” it read, the handwriting recognizable as none other than viktor’s. you walked up to it, brushing your fingers against every part carefully in admiration. “you made this?”
“yes. for you, so you could see all that you are worth.” the words made your chest erupt with roses and lilacs that constricted your lungs and every muscle in your body, the walls of your throat tightening as all the yearning you collected over the years drowned you at full force. your lips parted then closed, the river of words rushing through your head refusing to come out. viktor took in your reaction and chuckled, making his way over to you and holding your hands in his, like always. “you deserve it. go on, take a look.”
you did just that, walking up to the relatively large telescope and peering up into the glass. by now, the sun had disappeared into the horizon, the sky a dark canvas lit by constellations. you see the stars, big and small, all floating around and burning bright. viktor pointed out certain objects for you, turning your gaze towards venus, which was noticeably larger than the other pinpricks of light around it. you played around with it a bit, eventually seeing the moon in all its nighttime glory.
“it’s beautiful,” you muttered, your jaw hanging slack as you soaked in the sight of the sky so close, so close that you could hold it all in your hands and caress it and pull it to your chest so tenderly. viktor sat right beside you, admiring the way you held onto the body of the telescope carefully and how you let a tiny smile grow on your lips, his heart trembling with the sudden urge to fall in love with you all over again. but he could not let it out. not yet.
you turned your head towards his, the curve of your lips growing once your eyes met. “thank you, so much.”
“anything for you, světlo hvězd.”
you huffed playfully, “what is with the nicknames that i can’t understand?” viktor laughed at your comment but refused to give a proper answer, claiming that you “didn’t need to know yet.”
“i would say i’m sorry for going against your wishes, but,” he paused, his head tilting up as he looked away. “i would be lying. you deserve all the chances. you may have felt as if you were unworthy of anything, but you deserve everything. i will say that a million times if i need to.”
you laughed, the sound hitting viktor’s ears beautifully. “why are you like this?”
“i am only like this for you. heimerdinger’s decision was completely and utterly stupid. so, i did whatever i could to bring you back.”
you wanted to kiss him then and there.
“enough. i think it’s time our virtuoso get some rest — i’ve kept you up a bit late,” he interrupted your thoughts, nodding his head towards the exit expectant for you to follow.
and with that, you let him walk you back to your dorm, his stare lingering on the instrument against your wall a little too long before he left with a soft goodnight.
☾ ♫ ♩ ♫ ♩ ☽
viktor laid in his bed far from peacefully, his mattress practically digging into his spine and shoulder blades and carving nighttime sorrows into his skin. he could not contain the instant rush of thoughts he was greeted with upon waking up. he was always thinking recently, a little too much for his liking. thinking about work. thinking about class. thinking about you.
you. viktor dragged his hands over his face, groaning into his palm miserably. it was stupid how much of his mind you had taken. this was not the plan. he had promised you success and fortune up in piltover, not his lovesick tragedies and playful little pet names in his mother tongue. did you even know of his feelings? if you did, did you return them at all? was he too bold, bold enough, or not bold at all?
love was stupid, viktor decided. but saying something that strong would mean calling you stupid. he tossed the thought out of his head immediately, throwing himself out of bed and into his bathroom.
truthfully, he felt guilty for it. he figured he did not deserve to worship you, to long for you this much when all he brought you was memories of your own misery. he had wedged himself back into your life, and with that, you had spiraled down into a hole that he could not describe himself. to admit his affection for you would be selfish, he felt. but he was too far deep. he feared that if he stopped here, he would leave you hanging all over again.
for once in a long time, he felt completely stupid.
on the other hand, you were absolutely lovestruck. you did not care for guilt or selfishness or any of those bitter feelings that would ever stop you. but at the same time, you were terrified. terrified of growth, of finally moving forward even though that was what you craved the most.
you waved the nonsense out — or at least, tried to — considering you were throwing yourself back into the hobby you kept at just for him.
personally, you believed that viktor had given you so much and you had given… what? there was no memory of you offering anything to him that amounted to the amount of gifts and time and care he gave you. it was unfair.
this was unfair. all of it, the envy, the pining, the stress. unfortunately, there was no going back. you had flung yourself full force into not only viktor himself but also into your studies. and with this newfound dedication, there was no time to sit down and think.
you breathed heavily after finishing the warm-up assigned by your teacher, his gaze not judging but calculative, as if he were sizing you up. “good,” he spoke firmly, jotting down notes of god knows what on his papers. maybe this was expected, considering your sudden leave and return — it was sure to have left a stain on your cachet. “now, onto your assigned piece. i’d like to go over measure 32, til the coda.” you did as told, your fingers stretching along the keys and pouring out memorized melodies in hopes of satisfaction. this wasn’t unfamiliar to you, rather, it was awkward. you had been in countless classrooms and apartments studying with various instructors, all of which pushed you to do your best. but this time, it was uncomfortable, what with the sharp stare given by your teacher and the tension in the air.
regardless, the session went by smoothly, save for the anxiety racking your bones. a break was needed, you figured. where, you weren’t sure yet.
eventually, you found yourself at the door to viktor’s lab with two cups of tea in your hands. with no hesitation or warning, you waltzed in, placing one of the cups that you ordered on viktor’s desk. this startled him, his head whipping around to see you standing right next to him.
“what are you doing here? hold on, go get- go get some goggles, a coat, whatever… equipment is available,” he rambled on, clearly still invested in whatever experiment he had going on, his hands moving even while he spoke to you. you only shrugged, heading over to the coffee-stained couch put beneath a window.
“no need. i trust you enough not to blow me up. or melt me. or disintegrate me.”
viktor’s face scrunched up at your comment, shaking his head lightly in disapproval. “seriously? you surely cannot put that much trust in me. i am a scientist, and an engineer. both roles tend to be very destructive.”
“yes, but you are viktor, too. so i think i’m right to put my trust in you.” the ghost of a smile on his lips did not go unnoticed.
you watched his back as he returned his full attention to his work, lithe hands returning to mixing colored liquids with one another before his stopped in his movements, turning his head to you. “ehm, remind me — why are you here again? last time i checked, it’s rather unprofessional for someone to be a highly dangerous lab without… you know, proper equipment and protection.”
“oh, right! i wanted to ask you if you could come with me tomorrow, somewhere special. i promise it’s not a trap or anything like that. but it’s a secret.”
he raised a brow questioningly at the odd request. “i suppose. just don’t kill me. i’m still watching my back, considering your comment about ‘tearing me apart for my skill.’” the joke flew over your head for a moment before it clicked, a loud giggle leaving your lips.
☾ ♫ ♩ ♫ ♩ ☽
you stood at the start of a wide bridge — specifically, the one that connected the undercity and piltover. viktor looked at you skeptically, as if he were unsure of stepping across, despite being from the polluted nation himself. “and we are here… why?”
“just- wait for it and follow me.” regardless of his worries, he did as told, trailing behind you into the depths of the city, the mask on his mouth sitting uncomfortably. as you walked further, he finally recognized the pathway, and the rocks, and the small opening in a more isolated part of the streets. there sat a lone piano, dirt collecting on the already rotten wood. you grinned happily while approaching the stool, adjusting it to fit your height and pressing down on the keys eagerly. the sound that came out wasn’t exactly unexpected, but it caught you both off guard regardless.
viktor took his usual spot on the rocks, settling his cane between his legs and on his shoulder. he would be a liar if he said he was not excited. the rush of nostalgia was soaking him whole, his eyes set on your face as you thought of a piece to play.
the notes came out awkward, at first. it sounded improper, like a mish-mash of random chords combined in hopes of making a valid sound. soon enough, it morphed into something far more beautiful, the discombobulated scales you performed turning into a melody that he instantly remembered as one you would play more often as a child. it was a tune that you would play on days when comfort was needed, when the poison-drenched city was more cruel than usual and particularly unkind to both of you. viktor relished in the grin you bore on your face, the same one that he remembered from your younger years, filled with a euphoric youth that he would cherish forever.
you played, played until your arms got sore and sweat beaded down your forehead and kissed your chin. viktor was sitting next to you by now, his back against the legs of the stool and his head against the top of his cane. “heavenly,” he whispered under his breath as you closed off the piece.
“i’m glad you think so.”
he brought himself up, motioning for you to move aside so he could sit next to you. paper hands made their way to yours, grabbing blemished fingertips with peeling skin with a care so strong it melted you. he always seemed to be holding your hands, although you never noticed the contrast. his were pale, ridden with lavender tints and bones peeking through skin while yours were time-worn and stained with bruises and blisters alike. you watched as he flipped over your hands to face your palms, tracing the lines in your skin gently, an amber-infused gaze locked onto you and you only, as if you were a masterpiece, a creation by the gods themselves sent to him. “...viktor?”
he did not move his attention from your hands, continuing to carefully draw mindless shapes and brush against the galaxy stains left behind by hard work on your flesh. “what do you see in these?” he spoke with intent. if any time was more perfect, it was now. he would pour whatever yearning was bubbling up in his heart of clay onto you now because he could not handle it any longer, not when you had brought him back here, to remind him of how long it’d been since it started filling up his chest to begin with. if any time was more perfect it was now.
“what?” he looked at you for a second, wanting you to answer the question. “well… i see scars. lots of them. they’re not pretty. i would call them battle scars, but… it doesn’t suit me.”
viktor lifted one up, awfully close to his lips, the other resting on his thigh. you could feel his breath so, so close, traces of cinnamon and mint fresh against your skin. “do you want to know what i see?” you merely nodded, too scared of your voice breaking apart if you dare spoke another word.
“i see flaws, but gorgeous ones. ones that are the result of your genuine effort and work and dedication.” his lips pressed against your knuckles, and he muttered, “i could hold these hands for centuries, til my dying breath, for they are the very hands that hold my heart.”
you could not hold the tears that spilled down your face, dropping against your collarbones and soaking your cheeks. he wiped each and every one of them with the pads of his thumbs, his calloused skin rough, but you did not care. cold hands held your face with the love and tenderness of an angel, his lips now ghosting yours, silently asking for permission to kiss away whatever baggage you held and wipe it off with his affection. you accepted.
such lands were untraversed by either of you. but it was as if you slipped right into place, his fingertips finding your jaw and your own finding his waist. to say viktor was happy would be an immense understatement. he was euphoric. the jar of collected ardor he kept stored away in the cabinets of his heart came spilling out all at once, bubbling and sizzling against your skin as he burnt you with his love, a love that he would give you over and over and over again. any selfishness he felt initially for simply wanting to carve pathways for you and place the stars in your hands and pick away the thorns on the prettiest roses so you could hold them was long gone. if you were the sun, then he was icarus.
“i would split the universe for you, moje slunce.” it was at this point that he realized everything he spoke and did was simply instinctual. the tips of his ears lit aflame as he put his forehead against yours, whispering an apology under his breath for his rashness. you did not care, not one bit. “i’m sorry. i do not… i was always asking myself for more time. as a result, i waited for years. on what, i do not know. perhaps it was us looping back here,” he gestured towards the rocks and the distraught piano. “that triggered it. maybe, i realized i was waiting too long.”
you cracked a smile towards him. “yes, you were waiting far too long.”
viktor would wait no longer.
After Hours: ViktorxFem!Reader Part 3
Summary: Standing on the freezing streets of Piltover, you’re having a hell of a shift trying to bring customers in to your club for drinks. You see a pair of Academy students headed your way--one is eager enough, but the other is much more of a challenge to win over, and you like a challenge.
SFW (spicy in the next chapter I promise!!): After your date with Viktor, you return to work, hoping against all odds that you’ll see him again, that he’s different from the men you’ve known in the past. You are in for a surprise, in more ways that one.
Sorry I’ve been gone so long bbys! I got diagnosed with several chronic health conditions and only just got a medication that works and allows me to sit upright for more than 20 minutes so we back!!!!
Perhaps we can do it again sometime.
The words repeat in your mind as you go about your morning chores—afternoon, really, given that you’ve woken at half past three. Problem is, of course, you have no idea how to contact Viktor, as exhausted and tipsy you had been the night before.
He had mentioned being assistant to the Dean, but you would rather swallow nails than march up to the Academy in your stiletto boots looking for whomever the Dean was, and trying to explain yourself.
Well, you see, your assistant stopped by my hostess club and we went out after. No, it wasn’t what it sounds like, he’s kind, not the type to—
Janna above, even the more thought is making you want to sink into the floorboards. This kind of chasing isn’t your style to begin with. You kept your distance, preferring to be alone.
It wasn’t loneliness if it was self-imposed, right?
You try to distract yourself by getting basic household work done, packing your bag for the club—most of your outfits and makeup are in your dressing room, but there’s always essentials to refill, things you keep forgetting in the chaos of the day.
It’s not until you’re in the dressing room, digging through your cubby for something to wear that you let yourself hope. Viktor knows where you work. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll stop by and visit.
If you’re lucky, he won’t bring his friend and you’ll have him all to yourself.
The thought of entertaining Viktor for the evening has you buzzing with nervous energy, your palms sweating and heartbeat picking up despite yourself. Suddenly every detail of your ensemble has to be perfect, just so. You paw through your limited stock of dresses over and over again, wondering what his favorite color is, what he would think if he saw you in this outfit or another.
Unlike many of the wealthy Piltover girls who work in the club, you don’t have many options, but poverty has given you ingenuity and creativity; the ability to style one piece ten ways, making everything stretch far further than it needs to. Mending holes late into the evening, turning rips and wear into sex appeal.
Finally you settle on an old favorite: a short pink plaid dress with a ruffled hem and fake diamond brooch at the bow placed strategically near your cleavage. Sheer black stockings with a ruffled pink garter belt. You take extra time with your hair, teasing and curling it into oblivion and putting small pink paper flowers you made into the teased mess. Black stilettos, your usual distinctive eye makeup and a spritz of perfume later, and you’re ready to go.
The other girls are giving you looks at your extra effort, whispering amongst themselves, but you ignore them. Being number one at the club means something different to you than to them.
For you, it’s a ticket to a better life not just for you but for so many you care for, those who look up at you with wide eyes when you visit every week, your heart aching as you desperately wish you could do more.
For them, it’s a shiny trophy to put on a shelf, another notch on the proverbial bedpost.
You knew in your heart that Viktor would understand. After your conversation in the coffee shop you realized that was a shared trait between the two of you: a desire to make it Topside in the hopes of bettering the lives of those in Zaun, where your roots are.
How could you not hope, meeting someone like that? The giddy energy you got from his kiss had carried you up until this moment and you start your shift bubbly, full of smiles.
He could walk through the door at any moment, after all.
As the night goes on, however, that bubbly energy fades, replaced by anxiety at first, then disappointment, and finally, anger. Anger is better than hurt. Anger is better than dashed hopes.
Stupid, you tell yourself. You were so stupid to get your heart and your head carried away by a man, even if he was a handsome man who spoke your language, who was so sweet and gentle—
You’re not doing this. You’re not falling into his trap. Men were all the same, you saw that well enough from your job. This was why you didn’t give your heart away. Too much of this back and forth, a push—pull you couldn’t afford.
By the time your shift is over you can barely disguise your anger, and your boss has you in the back, lest you scare off any potential customers.
You don’t even bother getting changed; you don’t want to look at yourself in the mirror. You’re afraid that if you do you’ll burst into tears. Instead you shrug your coat on and trade your heels for a pair of flats and storm out of the club, thankful for the day off tomorrow. A day off to curl up in bed and mope in a blanket roll of self pity.
But the only one judging would be your cat, so you’ll take it.
You’re regrettably sober, as you had pretended to drink far more than you actually did this shift, worried that if you actually got drunk you would start crying or throwing things or both. The streets are deserted as they often are at this hour and almost home, so absorbed in your thoughts that you don’t notice him until you collide, your face making contact with his waistcoat.
He’s so tall, and you know that scent of library books and coffee—it’s been living in your mind since the kiss.
Gods, this cannot be happening.
You back up, hands on your hips. “What are you doing here?”
Viktor has the gall to look bashful, the bastard. He runs his hand through his perpetually messy brown locks. “I, ehrm, left you a letter in your mailbox. I realize I had mentioned we should see each other again and then had given you no way to contact me to make arrangements—“
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Barely. “At 2 am?”
He looks at you with those wide honey-whisky eyes. “It’s 2 am?”
“Yes, Viktor, it’s two in the morning. I was at work.”
“Ah. I am sorry. I was working late at the lab and lost track of the time; I had no idea. I apologize for the imposition.”
You sigh. As loath as you are to admit it, you find it difficult to stay angry with Viktor, especially when he looks at you in that way, so eager and sweet and genuinely apologetic. You should know better and yet your judgment seems to fly out the window anytime you are in his vicinity.
“Well, it would be rude of me not to invite you in,” you say, reaching in your pocket for your keys.
“Truly, Miss (y/n), I wouldn’t want to bother you.”
“Viktor, it’s fine. I have the day off tomorrow. And didn’t I ask you to call me (y/n)?”
He gives you a small smile. “If you insist, (y/n).”
When you open the door to your place, the small attic apartment you call home, your cat chirps at you in greeting. She pads over to Viktor, who holds out his hand to her.
“That’s Koko,” you tell him, and he gives her a scratch behind her ears. “She’s a menace to society.”
“I have difficulty believing that,” he replies.
You hang up your coat on the rack by the door and you realize Viktor is not, in fact, immune to the effort you had put into your appearance earlier. You catch his gaze lingering at the pink ruffled garters and grin. Cross back over to him, close enough to press yourself against him, your hands lingering on the buttons of his waistcoat.
“Do you like my dress?” You ask him innocently, blinking with those spiky false lashes.
Spots of pink appear on those sharp cheekbones. “It’s very—you’re very…” He pauses, bites his lower lip. “Pretty.”
“Just pretty?” Oh, this is fun.
“I’m not certain if everything else on my mind is too forward,” he murmurs, and you raise a brow.
“I think I can be the judge of that.”
His hand encircles your waist, the other cups your chin. “Miláčku. Mayn oytser. Shayna maydel—I….” That hand cupping your chin, fingers brushing across your cheek, “I have struggled to focus on my work today, I must admit. I lose track of time on the best of days, however….”
“My mind keeps wandering. To you.”
This, this you could drink in for days; his shyness, the terms of endearment in your shared language. Darling. My treasure. Pretty girl. He’s a romantic, this Viktor, and Janna help you, you want nothing more than to watch him come undone under your touch.
This time when he kisses you, there’s heat beneath that sweetness and you bite his lower lip in your desperate need, his tongue slipping into your mouth.
When you break for air, his cheeks bright red now, foreheads pressed together, his nose nuzzling gently against yours, its less of an invitation, more of a command.
“Bed. Viktor, please.”