#mel/viktor

[fishfingersandscarves]

some regency melvik

[arcainworms]

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Fandom: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021)

Relationships: Mel Medarda/Viktor (League of Legends)

Characters: Mel Medarda, Viktor (League of Legends)

Additional Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Enthusiastic Consent, BDSM, Under-negotiated Kink, Cunnilingus, Face Slapping, Trans Viktor (League of Legends), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Degradation Kink, Consensual Non-Consent, Dom Mel Medarda, Sub Viktor (League of Legends), Aftercare, Dom Drop

Melvik BDSM PWP, as requested by @winterdoves. Enjoy! I REALLY hope I didn't go completely the opposite direction with this from what you wanted.

"If you want to stop, you know the word. But until then, you’re mine to do with as I please.” Mel slipped her finger under the velvet cuff wrapped around Viktor's ankle, a final self-assurance that it wasn't too tight before she drew back to admire the view.

Viktor’s breath caught in his throat, and she watched as his pupils dilated, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He nodded, his voice a hoarse whisper. “I trust you, Councilor.”

Mel leaned down and caught his breath with a kiss, smiling as she felt him yield to her, felt his body melt under her touch. Her hand trailed down his chest, lingering over the soft, concave curve of his stomach, before it slid lower, to the warmth between his thighs. She felt a hunger that was almost feral rising in her chest as she took in the sight of him, bare and flushed and needy beneath her.

"You're so handsome," she murmured, low and husky. Her fingers danced over the silk of his skin, tracing the crease of his inner thigh before finally brushing against the softness of his folds. He was already wet for her, so wet and ready.

Viktor’s cheeks burned, but he didn’t protest. "You flatter me, Councilor," he said, his voice a challenge. He was always so defiant, so sharp with his words, even when his body was begging for her. It was one of the many things she found utterly irresistible about him.

Mel leaned closer, her teeth grazing his ear. "You know I mean it," she murmured, her breath hot against his skin. "Now, be a good boy and do as I say."

Viktor opened his mouth, presumably preparing some sort of retort, but she pressed her thumb to his lips to silence him. “I’m in no mood to listen to your blabbering all night,” she said, promise and threat blended together.

He took in a breath like he was going to speak. She brought the riding crop down before he could get a word in, watching with a satisfied smile as his skin flushed red, the edge line of the impact following the line of his collarbone just the way she’d wanted.

“What was that for?” he hissed.

Mel leaned over him and grinned. “Talking too much, of course.”

Whatever Viktor had originally been planning to say seemed to lose its bite as she straddled his thighs, the heat of her body pressing him down against the bed. He squirmed, his eyes glinting with a mix of irritation and arousal. “I hardly said anything at all,” he pointed out.

“Well, then it shouldn’t be a problem for you to keep your mouth shut, should it?” 

She smirked, dragging the edge of the crop down his chest. Then, without warning, she hit him again with it, relishing in the way he jerked back against his bonds. 

“You think you can just—”

Mel’s laughter stopped him mid-thought. “Oh, you’re sweet when you’re indignant. But really, darling, you ought to know the rules.”

“Indignant?” Viktor echoed with a snort. “That’s a big word. Wonder you don’t choke on it.”

Mel’s breath was hot against his skin as she whispered, “I think I’ll enjoy your company more after you’ve had a bit of discipline.” Her teeth grazed his skin, and she felt him shiver.

“Mel,” he warned, strained.

“No,” she said, her tone firm and authoritative. “I’m a Councilor of this city, and you’ll address me with the respect I’m due.”

“ Mel ,” he repeated, eyes flashing with that rebellious spark that she found endearing and infuriating in equal measure. “We’re not in a council meeting now, are we? I’d hate to have them see me like this.”

She raised an eyebrow, shifting her weight so she was hovering over Viktor’s knees. “You’re in my home as my guest, and I expect a certain level of decorum.”

Viktor rolled his eyes, his voice a lazy, sarcastic drawl. “Ah. Your highness, is it?”

Her smile was a sharp curve. The crop cut through the air again, landing with a sharp crack on his chest, just above his heart. Viktor’s eyes flickered with pain, then something darker, more primal. 

“Fuck, that’s not—”

“Quiet,” she murmured, watching the way his skin glowed where she’d hit him. “I’m painting. ”

She brought down the crop in a flurry of strikes, precise and practiced. Each hit was measured just so to elicit a gasp, or a whimper, or even a shout, but never too much pain. She knew his limits well, had come to learn how much he could handle through giving him more than that. She watched him, her eyes never leaving his face, her heart racing in time with each stroke.

There was no distress to be found in him, only a fiery determination to take everything she had to give. Her arm was a blur, covering him in impact marks on his shoulders, his chest, the tops of his thighs.

Eventually, she stopped, taking a second to catch her breath and let Viktor catch his before speaking again. “Is this what you want?” she purred.

He narrowed his eyes, but he couldn’t hide the desire in his voice-- not from her. “What I want is for you to stop beating me and let me go, Councilor .”

Mel’s smile never faltered. “And why in the world would I ever dream of doing that?” She knew he had him, hooked and wriggling, and the power of it was intoxicating. She took a deep breath, savoring the feeling, before she continued. “I’ll let you go once you’ve learned your lesson, darling.”

“I’ve had quite enough of this,” he snapped. He struggled against the bonds at his wrists, and she could see the muscles in his arms flex, the way his neck tensed. “You can’t tie me down and expect me to smile while you do as you please.”

“Oh? I can’t?” She looked pointedly down at him, spread-eagle on the bed and covered in marks from the riding crop. She was still holding it over his chest, a silent threat that was clearly starting to eat at him.

His eyes were dark, his jaw clenched so tight she thought she could hear his teeth grinding together. He was so used to being in control; of his experiments, of his mind, and it only made the power he gave her that much more delicious.

“Your mouth is going to get you in trouble,” she purred. “Though I suppose it already has. And that’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“Is this what you want to do? Degrade me?”

“Such an ugly word.” Mel shook her head, tutting her tongue disapprovingly. “I prefer to think of it as reminding you who you belong to.” She trailed the crop down his body, watching the trail of goosebumps that followed its path.

“You think you’re so clever,” he said, his voice strained with the effort of keeping his anger in check.

“Clever? I don’t know about that. I just know what I like.”

Viktor’s glower was unmistakable, his eyes sparking with defiance. “And you like this,” he accused.

Mel chuckled, the sound echoing through the room. “Is that a statement or a question, darling?”

His eyes narrowed, and she could see the cogs turning in his mind, trying to come up with some way to gain the upper hand. He was so delightfully predictable that way. 

“I like watching you squirm,” she conceded. But she knew that it was a lie, at least by omission. More than anything, she liked watching him lose, the way he would search for a weakness, a chink in her armor to exploit, and find nothing. And tonight, she was enjoying herself greatly. “I like the way that you come back to me, time and again, begging for this.”

His face twisted up at that, as if it were the thing to finally offend him beyond the reach of their game. “I don’t squirm, and I don’t beg.” 

“Oh, but you do,” she murmured. “Because it’s all you can do, because you can’t escape. You’re mine.”

“I am not a possession, Councilor.”

you should come read the rest and comment on ao3!

[nona-la-nona]

Let's just revel in it for a bit.

[coatsinkleaf]

[kazisonline]

All I'm saying is Jayce Talis is a bisexual polyamorous man who has a type and that type is just, Higher Beings. His type is just Jesus Christ. Bro straight up wants to fuck God

Edit: damn bisexuals found this post hello y'all hope you have a nice day the post reached its target audience

[gardenveela]

someone commented ‘the sun, the moon and jayce’ under my previous meljayvik post i laughed so hard that i just had to draw it

[gilbert-gilbert-art]

just something silly about jayce growing a mustache

[jollymalt]

some arcane pirate au sketches

[circusmantis]

Little spoon Talis❤️

[lettuccine]

in another, another universe

im gonna call this arcane no angst universe

[windwenn]

‘You were my new dream’ or however the fuck that scene went

[fishfingersandscarves]

guys...next year....

[arcainworms]

A friend of mine gave me the most wonderful idea.

Melvik pre-canon thing. They've been fucking on the side for a while, and an unwitting Viktor shows up to Mel's to find her very sad-drunk about her mom.

Excerpt under the cut, and you can read the rest on AO3!

-

Viktor hesitated for a moment, drawing in a deep breath before taking the brass knocker in his hand and tapping it against the door of Mel’s apartment twice in quick succession. He put a little more weight on his cane and shut his eyes as he let himself imagine what version of Mel might greet him when she opened it.

He never knew quite what to expect when she asked him to come to her. That day, it had been nothing more than a lingering gaze and a pointed tug at her ear during the council meeting.

Sometimes, he found her rough and impatient and demanding, digging her sharp nails into his skin as she pinned him down to her bed. Others, she was gentle, bordering on patronizing, stern more than strict. Most often, though, she was exactly as she was in public: careful, meticulous, guarded. 

When he finally heard her speak up from the other side of the wall, though, he knew that she wasn’t going to be any of the three.

“Viktor, is that you?” Her voice was slurred and so loud it genuinely took him aback. The door in front of him swung open with the unregulated force of someone who’d had far too much to drink, and he felt his pulse quicken. “It’s so late, I didn’t know if you were still going to make it. Come in!”

She stumbled backwards and he stepped inside, shutting the door carefully behind him as he took in the state of Mel’s sitting room. It was a veritable wreck, with empty wine bottles littering nearly every empty surface and every cushion and pillow having been at some point knocked askew. His eyes fell on the corner, where the wall was wet and dripping down onto the broken bottle below it.

Mel herself was no more composed– her hair was hanging down loose and disheveled around her shoulders, the makeup around her eyes was smudged like she’d been rubbing at it, and there was a deep red splotch of wine starting to stain the front of her dress. 

He watched her slump down onto one of the sofas with a dramatic flourish, laying there still for a moment as she took in measured, shaky breaths. She shut her eyes tight before straightening her back and patting the cushion next to her. He made his way over to her with slow, cautious steps, and looked at her for a second before he sat. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips were red where she’d been biting at them, and her eyes were glassy and unfocused; whether that was from crying or drink, he couldn’t confidently say. 

“Mel, are you alright?” Viktor asked quietly, once he’d gathered up the courage. “You seem upset.”

“It’s nothing,” she replied. It wouldn’t have been convincing even if she weren’t so apparently drunk. “I had a horrible day, and I don’t want to think about it. I need you.”

She made a soft, almost desperate sound and leaned into him, sliding her hand up his thigh. Viktor’s stomach clenched, and he froze in place, overwhelmed and unsure. They gave each other relief, release, physical pleasure– that was their arrangement, and they shared in very little else. But she’d never needed anything other than that, never seemed like she could need anything else from him. 

And now she was drunk, and vulnerable, and he had a feeling that pegging him wasn’t going to make her feel better.

Mel’s hand grew more insistent, palming at him through the fabric of his pants, and she parted her lips like she was expecting a kiss. He hesitated for a second, his hand hovering over hers as his mind twisted itself into knots, but temptation got the better of him and he indulged her. He pulled back before she could turn it into anything else, though, and rested a steady hand on her knee. 

“Maybe we should talk,” he suggested. “I don’t think this is what you need.”

But she was well beyond listening to him. She pushed him back against the cushions and fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, pressing kisses up his jaw. She leaned in to brush her lips against his ear, the smell of stale wine getting stronger with every breath she took.

“No, Viktor,” she mumbled. “I don’t want to talk.”

She stared at him for a second before moving to straddle him, mindful even in her state to keep most of her weight off his lap. He set his cane on the sofa next to him and frowned, but she spoke before he got the chance.

“I want you to make me feel better,” she said, words muddled with a mix of arousal and something like desperation. “Please. Help me forget.”

“You’re drunk,” he said, doing his best to keep his voice firm. He wasn’t used to talking to Mel like that, and he didn’t sound like he was, even to his own ears. It was a tempting offer, and he wanted to take it, but he couldn’t, and he knew that he couldn’t. “We should wait, I think. Perhaps tomorrow night, when you’ve had a chance to sober up–”

She cut him off when she finally unhooked the last fastening on her dress, grinning triumphantly as the fabric fell down around her waist and left her bare from the hips up.

“Don’t you want me?” Despite the smile on her face, there was a vague sadness behind her words that he couldn’t ignore. She bucked her hips forward and seemed to regain some amount of confidence when she felt how hard he was, leaning in to kiss him again. It was hungry, claiming, almost violent, and he wanted desperately to lean into it, take the brunt of whatever had made her so upset. 

But Viktor pulled away with a grunt, taking her by the shoulders as gently as he could and pushing her back.

“Mel,” he said, straining under the effort of keeping his resolve, “not tonight.”

Viktor was terrible with this sort of thing: emotions, deep conversations, anything that couldn’t be distilled down to predictable, logical sequences. He knew that about himself, and had come to accept it. Somehow, though, that knowledge hadn’t prepared him to deal with the reality of the pained, furious look that took over Mel’s face all at once.

“Fine,” she spat, jerking away from him and stumbling to her feet. “I’ll find someone who does.”

-

Oooh you want to read the rest and go leave a comment on ao3 so bad

[cashytouille]

Arcane but it's on Snapchat

Took this idea from this and a friend-

[just-a-random-bakugo-stan]

Everyone (including me) going crazy over the (un?)doomed yaoi, canon Yuri and doomed straights is cool and all but

CAN WE AGREE THESE TWO WERE THE REAL MVPS ???

[froopa-coopa]

"I never asked for this"