#viktor x reader drabble | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astudyincontrasts · 2 years

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Incubus!Victor x Fem!Reader NSFW

@uwuboowoo wished for Incubus!Viktor drabble and how was my monster loving ass to say no? Featuring a surprise treat artwork collab by my beloved queen of Viktor art @arcanescribbles 🖤 Full glorious art work here!

Thematic horror, slight initial dub con, over stim, breeding kink, mindbreak themes, monster fuckin.

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There was a creepy scent to old houses that you hated. Like the ages of dust and previous lives had built up in the walls and floorboards like layers of varnish, a must of creeping damp and mice living in the plasterwork, of old burnt dinners and long since extinguished candle wicks. A scent no amount of perfumes or cleaning agents or open windows could ever truly dissipate.

And this house was old, according the the landlord it also hadn’t been occupied in years. Said he couldn’t keep a tenant in it. They all kept breaking their leases, some without a word, just up and vanishing and he wouldn’t realize they were gone until the rent checks stopped arriving. Some had left lots of stuff behind. He showed it to you, piled haphazardly in the dank basement, told you to go ahead and ransack it for whatever you might want, he didn’t care. Just happy to have the place inhabited again and bringing in cash.

It certainly wasn’t your first choice of living arrangements. Nor your second, third or fourth. But you were desperate for a place of your own, something you could afford without the necessary annoyance of roommates to help pay the rent. This place came cheap as dirt and it was big. Spacious enough for a family and instead all yours. Besides, it had beautiful bones. Victorian embellishments setting it apart from all the art nouveau of the latest architecture. And you could imagine it with a bit of elbow grease; cleaned up and undingied. Lace curtains at the open windows in summer and a crackling fire in the maw of the living room fireplace in the depths of winter.

The keys were heavy, intricate iron things in your hands. Skeleton keys, the landlord explained. Said he’d long ago lost the proper pair to just the front door - if he ever had them. Couldn’t recall anymore.

You’d known of the house since you were a kid. It was that house. The one every town seemed to have, looming dark and just eerie enough to have garnered its share of local legend in the form of absurd urban fairytales.

The one that stuck out the most was that the place had been owned once by a young man, a scientist of some renown. Not happy just to dabble in the sciences he’d turned to the arcane, to dangerous dark magics beyond the scope of human comprehension. It had killed him in that house. Obliterated by one of his own experiments. And ever since then the place had been haunted, had become some kind of portal for the dark things he’d been trying to unlock. It was why no one would stay there for very long and eventually why no one stayed there at all.

Until you.

It felt a little bold, a little exciting and headstrong to be the one taking up residence in the ‘haunted’ house. Weren’t you edgy and brave? That’s what you kept telling yourself as you set up house, brushed away the cobwebs and layers of thick dust. Swept up the floors and unpacked. Kept repeating it to yourself as night began to gather and the already dark corners deepened, the floorboards sighing softly underfoot and pipes rattling like bars of a cage when you ran all the taps at once to clean out the stagnant water before your well-earned evening ablutions.

But that musty old scent still clung to everything. Pervasive but not terribly unpleasant if you were honest; like an old bookshop full of mouldering texts and ancient leather-bound tomes.

The old clawfoot tub was enormous. Let you sink right up to your nose in frothy bubbles and hot, steaming water. So what if those demonic looking claw feet were oddly off-putting? Just a little more upsetting in some way that you couldn’t put your finger on than a normal porcelain tub foot. Black and iron and just something about them... Never mind. The bath felt lovely after all that dusty, dirty work. Knotted muscles unwinding until you felt like warm jelly by the time you climbed out and toweled off. Treated yourself to the luxury of a short, black slip nightdress; felt indulgent indeed to have nothing between skin and soft silk.

The bed was old and came with the house, but the mattress new, the single splurge you’d allowed yourself thus far. Large and soft and fit for a queen. You fell into it blissfully and after a moment’s internal debate blew out the votive candle you’d left on the nightstand. No electric set up in here yet. You were too old for a nightlight and it wouldn’t do to burn your new home to the ground in your sleep.

Regretted it as soon as the light was extinguished, however.

The dark came rushing in like a tidal wave, oppressive and heavy. Pitch black until eyes adjusted and the sheer of old moth-eaten drapes allowed the night outside to illuminate the black with deep hues of dusky blue, moonlight silver where it managed to eek through and skim a surface here or there. You lay there in the silence until it felt deafening. Struggling for sleep in spite of your fatigue and the recent relaxation of the bath, fighting the urge to get up and light not only that candle by the bed but all the others you’d scattered around the room in little clusters atop dresser and bureau and desk.

The house sighed. Creaked. Settled. Swore you could hear soft footsteps if you just listened hard enough. Bare feet slowly walking the halls. Good way to drive yourself crazy in an old home, listening so hard to the silence you started hearing things that weren’t there.

And then there was a sigh much closer.

You stiffened under the sheets, eyes widening slowly in the gloom. It sounded like it had come from directly under the bed. No. Not possible. And then there it was again, only... only this time it was a soft hissing. Like escaping breath or slow steam leaking from a pipe. Tink tink tink tink. Attention riveted upon the foot of the bed and the old iron scrollwork of the bedframe.

And the dark, long fingers curling one by one over the intricate metalwork, black clawed nails tapping in soft succession as they came creeping, climbing.

Voice failed you, scream lodged silently in a thick lump in your throat as you watched a shadow rise, pool, puddle and spread up over the edge of the foot of the bed to spill slow and black across the sheets. Limbs failed you, frozen rictus unable to grant your fervent desire for them to propel you up and out of bed and out the house and down the street.

Out of that spilling, smoke like spread of shadow two brilliant eyes opened like golden sparks, spitfire and luminous, like some sickly beautiful tapetum lucidum of a large predator, only this wasn’t just a reflective shine, oh no. These were lit from within, gleaming gold with pupils blown.

Your entire body jerked as all the candles in the room lit themselves at once in a quiet roar of flame. And there, climbing slowly up into your bed was the spilling sprawl of a long limbed creature shaped like a man... a young man. Face sharp angled and the sneered smile of his mouth a shape of terrible beauty. Skin the color of grey bruised blue that deepened and flushed to near plum in places. Long limbed and stark naked, save for the swirling cling of dark shadow that billowed away like campfire smoke only to gather again, washing back off and over him in loose licking wisps.

Up he climbed, clawed hands fisting in the bedsheets, slowly drawing them down off you, and to your horror... not just two hands, but three. Two perfect leanly corded arms and then a horrific third that seemed to climb from his back, twisted and gnarled and black and eager as it grasped at your ankle, texture like a tree branch but terrifyingly warm. Any urge to kick it off you was squashed by those other two impossibly long fingered hands as they closed upon your knees, pushed them spread to accommodate his slow upward climb and let that grip slide inexorably slow up your thighs.

The entire nightmare came spilling to a halt just there, hovered between the splay of legs he’d made, the terrifying beauty of that face lowering ever so slightly as luminous eyes narrowed with a deep, slow inhalation.

“Aaaahhh.” His voice came in hissing layers, soft echoes forwards and back in a susurrus that somehow managed to align in the center before parting again, a maddening soft play that sunk loving fangs in the tender wet give of your brain, sweet venom spreading like heat, eclipsing panic with something that made your eyes want to roll back in your head, made the small of your back burn to arch and nipples stiffen against the thin black silk of your nightdress.

“I’m so hungry....” The shape of that exquisitely beguiling horror of a mouth spread, smiled, teeth white and sharp in the display of that half-tilt smirking pleasure. So hungry so hungry so hungry... it reverberated in your skull in that hissed sibilance. Something snapped internally.

“Please don’t eat me.” Voice squeaked out of you, soft and cracked and higher pitched than you’d ever heard yourself.

“Eat you?” It’s - his - head canted, lovely mess of dark hair shifting, spilling across his forehead. “Yesss.... I could eat you.”

Face fell, buried itself in the silk covering the apex of your thighs and again came that deep inhalation, this one followed by a nearly purring groan of bliss before those brilliant eyes lifted to gaze up at you from under the thick of dark brows. Every fibre of you tensed at the light pressure of that face shoved against that most intimate hollow.

“So fresh... Its been so long since I’ve been fed. And you. Succulent. But not quite ready yet... not ripe. Sooooooon though. Very soon. Eat you first, yes.”

Thighs were trembling under his grasp as you watched the black of his tongue lick out and wet his lower lip.

“Please. Please no.” It was barely a gasp of a breath, fists tight in the sheet under you, still unable to force limbs to any kind of motion, the whole of you a shivering wreck. Why did you have to pretend to be brave? Why would you come live in the house everyone knew was cursed? Stupid girl. Stupid, dead little girl.

His face turned, eyed the expanse of one smooth thigh before him and he dipped his head, dragged the wet lick of his tongue over tender flesh before pausing to glance up at you again. Dark brows lifted and that smile spread once more.

“No?” No no no? It bounced off the inside of your head like echoes in a cavern, “But you are so sweet. Juicy. And no one’s ever complained while I ate them...”

That horrifying third arm released your ankle, desiccated dry touch slipping away tenderly to rise and catch the hem of your slip and drag it up over your navel, leaving entire lower half vulnerably bare to the famished golden glow of those eyes and that eagerly opening maw. Sharp clawed fingers splayed over the soft of inner thighs, pressed the spread of them even further as you finally, finally began to squirm, to try to escape, scuttle backward against the pillows and out of the bed.

He caught you easily and hauled you back, lifted your backside up under the scooping span of impossibly long fingered hands.

“Please....Please!!!” Voice was shrill, pleading, heart a terrified hammer you could feel straight through to your spine. Convinced any second now that mouth would split that unsettlingly gorgeous face in twain and all those jagged teeth would sink into your most vulnerable flesh and begin to tear you into bite sized hunks of still living meat.

Instead came the slow, sinuous roiling lick of that black tongue. Slicking wet and smooth as oiled silk through the tender folds of your pussy; a lingering, savoring slow drag from stem to stern, coiling a circle around your clit before withdrawing. Leaving you breathless, unconsciously lifting toward its touch as it vanished.

The creature rocked its head back, the gloriously knifepoint angles of that jaw upthrust as he moaned long and low at the taste of you. Head lowering again slowly, the illumination of those hypnotic eyes doubled, fire stoked.

“Ahn, moje malá broskvička...” One finger slowly stroked along the part of your pussy, so careful of that sharp nail, letting its point drag along ticklishly. “Come to save me from starving. Such sweetness. Let me eat you up and keep you, lovely little peach.”

You were gulping, gasping. Confused and more than anything, more than all the blinding fear and irrational panic, you were inexplicably aroused. Skin singing soft heat, a luscious effervescent flutter winding lazily in the pit of your stomach, begging more of that tongue, of the touch of cool hands that left fire in their wake, mind numbing, mouth filling want like you’d never known.

It made no sense. You ought to have been repulsed, horrified. Instead you were... craving? Wriggling in his grasp instead of struggling. It had that knowing smirk back on that exquisite mouth as he dipped back down, licking, laving, soft and languorous as the impossible length of his tongue slid through folds and caressed clit, over and over and over again in endless untiring patterns until you were keening. Face turned to the side and arm thrown over your eyes, cunt on fire for him, the taut knots coiling and doubling in shuddering ache within begging to be released.

He blew softly on your clit and you convulsed, earning a soft peel of delighted laughter from him. And then that mouth closed on the pulse running through that hypersensitive little bundle of nerves and sucked. Sucked as the tip of his tongue curled over and around it and oh, you came undone.

Sharp nails dug gently into the grasp of your lifted buttocks as you bucked and thrashed and whined release so intense you felt it in your bones. White hot ecstasy fizzing hot supernova collapse before it shattered outward, spangling searing little points of spitfire stars across the black of vision, a trillion little points of tingling light and sweet agony relief spattered like celestial freckles over skin and nerve and bone.

Swore you heard him moaning softly along with you as you came, like he felt it. Like it was his own release.

You went limp, panting, shivers slowing gradually. And thought perhaps he’d lower you back onto the bed. He did not. Instead he sat back on haunches and lifted you further, your knees and thighs draped over broad shoulders, his arms circling your waist to keep your lower half cradled up against him.

In he delved again. Mercifully avoiding the slow subsiding throb of your clit and instead licking at the still convulsing flutter of your entrance. Tongue pushed, pressed, dipped within and a sharp gasp caught like a stone in your throat as it slid in. And then more. Further. Thicker. In and in and coiling, curling the entire time. A constant mind-blanking delicious roll against climax-soaked walls.

On the bed your hands shifted, stretched, found his knees and grabbed a sharp grip, digging your own short, blunt nails in hard. Nothing had ever felt this good, nothing in your whole life. Swore you could feel that tongue from tips of toes to behind your navel as it slid roiling slow twists within, licking parts of you no one had ever tasted, as hot and slick and thick as a snake. Had your head thrown back and mouth open like your heart would come tumbling out of it onto the bedsheets for him to scoop up and devour.

And once he found that perfect spot within? Oh. Hard thrusting slow press licks unrelenting, until your toes curled so hard you could feel your calves begin to sear with the promise of a crushing cramp of muscles, until you were thrashing again, only held together buy the embrace of his arms wound round your hips, one hand slid down to drag the gentle scrape of long nails over the tender round of a half uncovered breast as his tongue lapped a second, harder orgasm out of you.

This one mind shattering. Deep, wringing waves crashing through you, against you, over you. Left you gulping, whimpering between airless gasps, every ounce of you gone perfectly rigid and quivering before you broke. Eyes rolled back so hard you were certain you’d gone blind. Sublime, succulent release as you unwound slow, waves eased to soft lapping, the sucking slide of the tide going back out as he let you slip down onto the bed. Came to lay between your thighs, head pillowed upon one. Kissing lightly at your swollen, aching clit. Each little brush of his lips convulsing your stomach gently.

You lay sucking breath in little shivers, fingertips gone numb, mind a glorious blank struggling against the odds to try to understand what was happening, who and what he was.

“Delicious one.” He was murmuring, purring thick voiced praise as if he was as undone as yourself. Delicate, almost loving little kisses to that overstimulated, overwrought bundle of nerves. It hurt, it burned, wonderful agony you sighed little whimpers against. “Do not run away, delicious one. I will not hurt you. I could eat you always... stay. Malá broskvička let me fill you up. I’ve waited years for you. Decades. Starving.”

One little lap of the tip of his tongue and you moaned wantonly with a single full body convulsion that had him lift his head to gaze up the length of you with a wicked smile. He shifted to press another kiss and you begged him to stop with a mumbled incoherence, tears gathering to streak from the outer edges of your eyes.

“My pretty thing. Don’t be afraid.” That sibilant echoing accented voice. Interspersed with a language both familiar and unknown. Another kiss, this one softly sucking. You arched, strained, small of your back fit to break as a third release rolled over you in almost painful little burst of bliss. So much, too much. He just wouldn’t stop and for some reason you could not find it in yourself to beg him to. As if you’d let him keep this up until you were reduced to little more than a jibbering mess of eager wet jelly, a hollow shell of yourself.

Lungs sucked air and you forced the train of thought down the tracks, set shoulder to it and shoved while wheels slipped and slid and tried for traction.

“Come... here...” Voice a husk, wrung out and hoarse, softly cracking at the end of each word. He obeyed, left off his next planned torment, pad of a finger just hovering over your abused clitoris, and climbed.

Came to hover over you on all fours, and just out of focus you could see the thick, heavy hang of his hard cock between lean thighs. Larger than any you’d had the like of in your admittedly limited experience. Still, you struggled to tear eyes off it and up to those pretty amber orbs gazing down at you in subtle amusement.

It took such effort to lift hands. Once you got them off the bed though it was as if a sticky mire had released. Free to flex and feel, sensation returning in tingling slowness. You reached to trace the fine cut of his jaw slowly. Watched those eyes slant near shut. Let hands card through the sticky smoke strange spill of dark hair and down the elegant line of his neck. Over shoulders and down arms, along chest. Pausing at the strange cut of black scars in arcane shapes, shadows against the bruised grey blue of skin that felt simultaneously warm and chill to the touch. Like it lived between worlds.

One hand rose to trace features as he held still for it, watching you curiously as you traced the purple shadows under bright eyes, the impossible sharp of cheekbones and then the strange sweet of his mouth. Let you smudge his lips, opened to the pry of your fingers and sucked soft on fingertips that went seeking sharp canines on every ivory.

“What are you?” It came out more marveled than you meant it to and he preened visibly, settling down half over you, all three hands still busy, softly stroking lingering caresses that made you struggle to maintain coherence. they tugged at the thin straps of the shift you wore, slid along arms and ribs and cupped at breasts, tweaked lightly at a nipple through slippery fabric. Sometimes felt like there were more even than three as you fought to stay cogent.

“Once as you are. Now?”

He sighed and lowered himself slowly. Press of face to your throat, bite of sharp teeth along jaw and lick of a tongue against your lower lip. Every inch of him a murder of gathered crows, soft wingbeats close in whispers against skin and black as pitch.

“Now... hunger. Want and craving. From barely alive to starving. Until you. Please. I want to eat. Oh little peach, let me. Are you better? So warm and soft my pretty girl. Could eat you forever.”

While you struggled against the urge to spread thighs again and plead he go right ahead, you dug nails into the strange elastic give of his skin. Like digging into smoke and viscera.

“Name...name yourself.” You huffed out, straining toward his mouth. He smiled sweet as any devil and licked over your lips in a wet line before sucking tenderly at your lower lip until the plush of it was swollen softly.

“Viktor, once. I remember Viktor.”

You latched to it, grazed nails down the lean of his throat over the sharp rise of his adams apple and down to collarbone, watched him slant eyes and stretch his throat for your attentions. Lifted head off the pillows to lick at his collarbone and felt him cradle up the back of your head. Claws carding through the skeins of your hair and along scalp.

And then you wrapped arms around his shoulders and kissed him.

He tasted of incense and cedar. Rosemary tang and the succulent bittersweet of late summer strawberry. Like dragging your tongue along a high tensile power line. Scent of him both petrichor and beeswax. Heady, improbable things that had you reeling while he gathered you closer. Bent to kiss you with an infinite softness that belied the taste of yourself on his mouth and the way he melted into you. One hand found your cunt again and spread folds in a slippery caress, opened you vulnerable like soaked petals before he stroked at your clit again, picked up a little caress to the swollen, puffy throb of it that broke your hold on his mouth as you instantly lapsed into another little crumbling, shuddering orgasm, too abused and overwrought to have any resistance left.

The blade of his nose pressed to your cheekbone as you came again for him, felt the coursing wet starting to drip between the cheeks of your ass and knew full well the bed beneath you was ruined. So much for those new sheets and mattress.

“You smell like summertime. Taste of sunshine. I’ve been in the dark so long.” So long so long so long. He was nuzzling at your throat, licking along your cheek where desperate tears had spilled with that last release. One spidery hand splayed over the soft of your stomach. “Sweet peach. Let me fill you?”

And your shattered little reptile hindbrain simply nodded heady agreement as you slid hands down between you both and found his cock. Heavy, hard. Leaking nearly as badly as yourself. It was him this time who caught breath and sighed as you stroked him, grasp trembling weakly as fingers slid along veined girth.

He buried his face between breasts before nuzzling at the slippery black silk still mostly draped over them. Licked at the fabric over the stiff upward press of a nipple, bit gently over it, the soft silk ticklish as it soaked through before he’d managed to drag it aside, moaning quietly to himself as he sucked slow, thrusting into your hand and drooling precum along one bared thigh.

When he’d had enough, he released the soft torment of that now gently burning little stiff bud and lifted you, turned you on hands and knees as he took you slow in spite of his dripping ache and your eagerness.

That desiccated third hand found a hard grip on your hip as he fitted himself to you and eased in. The hard ridge of the head of his cock a gripping spread that had you pushing back hard, eyelids flickering heavy as he sank in, mumbled half coherent praise of how well you took him. So much. He rocked against you, a gradual give and take until he was deep as either of you could go and you were worming against him, listening to his ragged breath as he bit at the nape of your neck, your ear, burned slow kisses across the curve of a cheek.

One hand came up to wrap spidery long fingers over the slope of your shoulder, the edge of a finger dragging against the catch of your lower lip as he began to move. Press of his cheek to your temple as he kept your face turned toward him, wanting to watch you come undone with him buried inside you. And if you thought what he could do with his tongue was unspeakably sublime...

For all his obvious need he was shockingly tender. Hips a delicious rhythmic rocking that had you pitching gluttonous little moans each time he hit up against your backside, made you feel little more than a hollow vessel that’d just been waiting this whole lifetime for him to fill you.

Drunk or drugged with him, and miles beyond caring. Nothing had ever felt so good, the nirvanic bliss eating away at your insides, that throbbing ache rebuilding over and over again each time you thought there was no way he’d drag one more orgasm out of you. You were on fire, itch more intense the more he scratched it for you, and your body ready to give out with all of it. Thighs and the brace of arms you were holding yourself up with both shook weakly. Sweat dribbling down between breasts and the pinch between shoulder blades. You felt him lick a bead of it off your temple as he murmured soft nothings.

“Sweet peach, so warm. Does that feel good? You take me so deep, little one... look at you shiver. Such a good girl to come to me like this, to feed me so well. On your knees for me, my delicious one, such noises you make. Do you like how I make you feel? Do you want me to be rougher?”

Sharp nails bit lightly into your all too human flesh and had you whining as he picked up his pace a bit, sweet friction doubling as your walls squeezed around him in fluttered, staccato grasps, stomach taut as a drum and breath coming in little gasping moans so embarrassingly wanton you wished to die.

Only the fact that he too was rapidly coming undone and making many unrestrained sounds of delight of his own that were starting to drown yours out saved you. One hand slid under you, nails grazing at your belly, across your navel.

“Will you swell for me, malá broskvička ? Let me make this sweet belly round and soft with little ones. You are so perfect for it, almost ripe. A few more days. I can smell how badly you want to be bred, pretty one. I will give you all you wish. Say you’ll stay. Please, stay.”

“Yh...yes. Yes...” Like you had the capacity to say anything else when it felt like you’d never have the willpower to climb back out of this bed again?

When he came inside you it nearly sent you into a spiral, your arms giving way, cheek smashed to the bed, one of his hands braced on the back of your head as he snarled softly over you like a large cat over a kill, filling you indeed, until it dripped out and ran down your thighs, until your stomach felt deliciously, softly, slightly distended. Whatever dark thing about him that had you so fuck-dumb absolutely tripled with his seed inside you, spinning hot little tendrils within that wrapped around the senses, made every little sensation feel ten times as strong.

He twitched within you obscenely as he came, and your walls milked at him in fits of slow squeezes as you rode out the slowest, longest release of your life, shuddering with strangled mewls as he doubled over you, scooped you up to cradle you back against him as he sat up, face shoved in the spill of your hair while he rasped out unintelligible worship with cool breath.

“Mine own. Ahn, I cannot live if you leave me. I will adore you, malá broskvička, make you my treasure.”

Treasure treasure treasure. It echoed softly in your ears. And then, just as suddenly as they had lit, all the candles extinguished in one guttered whoosh, room plunged back to darkness as you pitched forward against the pillows and soiled sheets, suddenly unsupported, the strong grasp of him vanished. No longer filled with the delicious stretch of his cock or caged in by that long limbed body. Just enough energy left to roll yourself over and watch wisps of shadowed smoke curl outward in the air and dissipate.

Consciousness found you the next morning groggy and exhausted, so tender that even the softest touch of your own fingers had you double up in hot agony. Not a dream, nor nightmare. You had little pink lines of scratch marks up one hip and over a shoulder and the sticky mess between your legs to prove it had all been terribly real. Well, not terrible. But certainly real. Quite clear now what had happened to all those other tenants.

Packing up and running as far and fast as you could seemed like an incredibly wise move. But you found, as you sat in yet another gently warm bath up to your chin, that you were not afraid. That instead you were craving, disappointed ever so slightly that you’d been used and left a sticky ruin without so much as a little cuddle or a bit of care for your tender state. Found yourself sliding a hand over the shape of your stomach throughout the day each time his words came hissing back to you softly. The house felt somehow warmer, too. More welcoming and less darkly menacing in its silent, looming way.

Besides, you could always change your mind. Why not stay one more night?

Part 2

#viktor #viktor x reader #viktor drabble #drabble request #viktor request #viktor arcane x reader #incubus viktor #monster viktor #viktor arcane #arcane ifc #viktor fic #art collab #ilu scribs #my sweet muse

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therabbitthatpostthings · 3 months

Text

Might fully write this as a whole story one day.

You come to Viktor with a serious inquiry:

“Do you know a doctor that can perform Hanahaki removal surgery?”

He was stunned at first. He didn’t even know you had feelings for someone but to ask for this?

“You know how risky that is, you could lose all love in your heart.” Viktor stated.

“Of course I do. That’s why I came to ask you. It’s been done, a successful removal. Sure the recovery period is long but I get to keep my memories with you guys. I’ll take the chance.” You were steadfast in your decision. This was the only way to rid yourself of this retched disease. You weren’t exactly happy about it either, the chance that you would lose all love for Viktor and Jace was high. However staying in love with someone until your heart breaks or you die is worse (of course you wouldn’t actually die though).

Viktor sighed, “Who is it, it you don’t mind me asking?”

You were almost too embarrassed to mention it, “Remember Sterling…”

Viktor sat up fully in his seat to really grasp the situation. Sterling was someone you both knew from your Academy days and he was a piece of work. A ‘Grade A’ jackass and flirt. It sucks that his looks matched his brains, being one of Piltover’s elites. He was destined to inherit his families company and live a life of luxury. And this, amalgamation of every stereotype rich boy, was the one causing you so much pain. Viktor could hardly believe it.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m not proud of it either!” Your face flushed bright red. “It just…happened. We were talking and things got real for a second. I thought I saw a different side of him but it’s…ugh! It’s complicated Viktor!”

Still in disbelief, Viktor adjusted himself on the chair. He collected his thoughts before looking back up at you. “I will ask Professor Heimerdinger for help. Don’t worry, I’ll find the best doctor there is. You won’t lose a precious memories, I promise.”

“Thank you Vitya.” You smile. Viktor felt a small ache in his chest but ignored it. You said your goodbyes and Viktor started to draft his letter to the Professor. Your memories and friendship was on the line so he felt compelled to write as soon as possible.

Professor Heimerdinger reported back by the end of the day. He was deeply concerned with Viktor’s wellbeing. This disease was no joke! He had lost many a friend to the flower disease and Viktor was far too young to fall ill with it. Viktor stopped him in the middle of his speech as he explained the treatment was for you and not himself. He was very confused at first but agreed to contacting a very good doctor. Before Viktor leaves, the professor urges him to be careful and be kind to himself.

Viktor didn’t understand then. You met with the doctor and consulted with her many times. She was kind and truly understood what it meant to be afflicted. After the consultations, Viktor would be your shoulder to lean on. On the nights you were too sick, you would stay with him. Viktor’s apartment became your second home. Viktor was slowly starting to understand the Professor’s warning. He couldn’t think about that now, he needed to be here for you.

Around two weeks before your surgery you were walking to your scheduled visit when you saw him, Sterling. He was chatting with another girl when he said some choice words about you. He threw in a couple comments that you’d only get far in this world because you “suck up” to the HexTech guys. It didn’t just sting he thought of you this way, especially after this long but he dared to badmouth your two best friends as well. For once, your coughing stopped and you noticed a bud had landed in your hand. You took this to the doctor and she was intrigued. She examined it closely and came back with a smile on her face.

“Congratulations, you’re falling out of love.”

“What?!”

“Calm down, it’s only been reported in the last 60 years or so but there are cases of people falling out of love with their intended person. It was mostly reported in relationships that turned sour after years but yes, even crushes can die out.”

“Does this mean, I will lose all love in my heart?”

“Not necessarily, you’ll feel reluctant and wary but as for your friends and family, you will love them just the same. You may even fall in love again one day.”

You get somewhat relieved. The doctor continued, “About the buds in your lungs. You can have the stem cut but that runs the risk of the original surgery. Best I can do for you is give you some medicine for nausea, pain killers and recommend you take on less physical work. Also, if you don’t mind, I’d like to continue our consultations with a therapist present so I can monitor the after effects.”

“Right…”

You left the consultation feeling lighter. Honestly seeing the doctor so excited over a bud, the proof that love dies, was amusing. The very thought of Sterling did fill your heart with a pit but one of disgust. Such an awful person who doesn’t know himself had the audacity to speak about you and your friends. The nerve!

You walked into the office and huffed into the seat next to Viktor. Without looking up from his notes, “You seem energetic today.”

“I’m not having the surgery.”

He almost fell out of his chair. Why would not have the surgery!? Have you fallen in love with Sterling?! Did he accept you?!

“I heard that jerk talking about me to another girl and he had the nerve to bring you and Jace into it! I don’t know it’s like- it’s like all my affection just died right then and there!” You explained what the doctor had said and how you would continue your rantings. Viktor felt a swell of pride in his chest. The fact that you were so annoyed on his behalf meant no matter what, your feelings would remain.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” he smiled.

“Honestly good riddance.” You scoffed “He doesn’t compare to you guys! You work so hard Vik, even when you were taking care of me!”

“I’d do it all again.” Viktor said. You sighed, finally relieved of your anger. You thanked him again for all he’s done and excused yourself to let him get back to work. Viktor waiting until you were out of the room to completely heave over the waste bin. It was filled with red stained petals.

How could he bring himself to tell you? Not now, not while you were free of this burden. He can wait it out, now that he was sure love dies.

#shitpost #shitposting #writing fanfics at 3am #cringe-#arcane #lol arcane #viktor #viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor x you #short drabble #viktor the machine herald #viktor my beloved #hanahaki disease

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intothemultifandom · 2 years

Text

you leave a first impression → sparrow academy [ben]

Warnings: Profanity

Imagine yourself having the powers of an Empath combined with the tracking abilities of Demetri Volturi [Twilight].

Ben || Number Two –– THE SCHEMER

⮕ Ben isn’t used to people staring at him the way your group does.

⮕ Is he used to star-struck admiration? Yes. Poorly concealed lust. Oh most definitely.

⮕ Fighting crime in the limelight for years had propelled the Sparrow Academy into celebrityhood overtime, to the point where it felt like they were more commodity than people most days.

⮕ With bus loads of fans gathering at their fence each day, and hoards of women and men throwing themselves at him for almost anything, all Ben had ever known was fan-crazed obsession and shallow affection.

⮕ So when he sees the mosaic of expressions that aren’t admiration or greed on your group, he’s already on alert:

⮕ The Big Guy and Stubble are wide-eyed at the back, almost slack jawed as the woman with the long coat stumbles back into them.

⮕ She’s quick to school her expression as she shuffles away, but Ben notes the way her hand trembles as her eyes rove over him in disbelief.

⮕ Their reactions has The Monster™ unfurling itself inside his stomach, but Ben ignores the sharp pain that follows in its wake as he turns to the smallest of your group.

⮕ Their faces are twisted with an expression he can’t quite decipher. It looks like grief, longing, and hope all mixed into one but the look is too fast and too fleeting for him to make sense of anything.

⮕ Short Pants, in particular, brings in his pointed finger into a clenched hand at his side.

⮕ Sundance, comparatively, looks the most at ease as he holds a hand against his chest with a dramatic flourish. It’s as though he’s already comfortable with what’s going on, comfortable with being in a room with them him, that Ben’s brow furrows.

⮕ In spite of his nonchalance and near-friendliness, he can’t help but think that Sundance’s smile could be bigger–all toothy or some sort of mischievous shit–and that the smile he’s wearing now is half-hearted at best.

⮕ Of course, it isn’t until he catches you hidden behind Sundance, eyes pinned to the floor that something that feels like desperation reverberates through him as he waits for you to meet his gaze.

⮕ The Monster™ pounds at his stomach lining, begging to be let out.

⮕By that point, Marcus and the rest of his siblings descend from the second floor, strategically mirroring your own formation as he addresses The Big Guy so Ben forces his attention elsewhere.

⮕ This shit can wait 'til after, he decides with a huff.

⮕ With seven on each side, the confrontation becomes an even standoff. And while it seems the whole situation might come to a peaceful resolution at first, Stubble and Jayme fall into an argument that inevitably kicks things into gear.

⮕ Ben, naturally, unleashes The Monster™.

⮕ Only, instead of attacking Sundance or Shortstack–being the two closest to him–you side-step into view, now meeting his gaze for the very first time.

⮕ To his shock? horror? disbelief? The Monster™ stills just before it can tear into your side, stopping only for a few seconds before gently (what?) caressing (the fuck?) your dirt-stained cheek.

⮕ From behind The Monster™, you stare at its tendrils and at him with a look unlike the others. It makes him feel bare and exposed, vulnerable in all the wrong ways, like he’s a live wire waiting to be put out. The way you look at him... Ben would only describe it as reverence.

⮕ Complete and utter reverence.

⮕ Eyes wet and mouth trembling, the sharp intake of breath you take as you look at him, really look at him, makes him think back to earlier and how he’d felt a flash of–

⮕ “–I don’t want to hurt you,” he says, the words slipping out before he can bite his tongue.

⮕ At his words, your expression ripples into something more bitter, something more than words Ben can even come up with and louder than your group as you press your lips into a thin, resigned, line:

⮕ “Too late,” it comes out soft, barely a whisper. But Ben winces as though you’d screeched into his ear.

⮕ Before he can do anything more, say anything more, you dart around his tendrils and brush a finger against his face.

⮕ All of a sudden, his limbs grow heavy with fatigue, The Monster™ retreats back into his skin with a harsh slam and the world tilts on its axis.

⮕ White-hot betrayal washes over him as he hits the floor, and as he begins to lose conscious, just on the precept of going under, Ben realises one thing about the sensation as it settles and aches, an open wound:

⮕ The feeling does not belong to him.

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itsjustbell · 11 months

Text

The Dive

Viktor x reader

Summary: It seems your feelings for your friend Viktor have grown into much more than you thought. When did this even happen?

This is literally just sappy drabble, just me gushing over Viktor. Too much time rewriting and editing--not nearly enough proofreading, but I'm trying to not focus on whether it's perfect or not. Hope it's at least comprehensible, haha. Enjoy <3

Love can be a lot of things. It can be a river, flowing constantly over and around obstacles, smoothing over hard edges, and even through stone with constant, gentle effort.

Love can be a fire. Growing from one glowing ember, with enough care and tenderness, to the roaring flame of a hearth. Strong enough to keep out the cold through dark winters and burning bright through even the most thunderous storms.

But this… This had crept up on you, much like how sleep crawls to the insomniac. You couldn’t quite pinpoint the moment that you fell, only noticing the floatiness of sleep once you’d already dived in headfirst. One moment you were fine, and the next you’d somehow found yourself opening eyes you didn’t even realize you had closed.

You’d known Viktor for a while now, enough to comfortably secure yourself a spot amongst the few he harbored as friends. This…fluttering feeling that threatened to choke you whenever he was around, like the butterflies in your stomach were trying desperately to fly out of your mouth in the form of some lovesick confession. Never before had you felt so strongly about someone. Never before had you craved someone. His mere presence alone seemed to soothe your anxiety ridden mine, while also somehow increasing it tenfold at the same time. Even when he was gone, he still managed to force his way into your thoughts. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were sick– And perhaps you were in a different sort of way.

Has he always looked that good? Had the sun always caressed his cheek like that? What would that same cheek feel like under your own hand? The amount of hours you had spent wondering how it felt to cradle his face in your hands and gaze into those striking amber eyes that seemingly glowed in the golden light of the evening, and to have them stare back— as if you were a star yourself? The thought alone was dizzying.

It wasn’t just that he looked like he was hand sculpted by the gods themselves. No, Viktor was more than just a pretty face. He was kind. Sure, he might’ve seemed like some self-righteous smart ass when you’d first met him, but under all that he was gentle. He was understanding. He made you feel seen. Talking to him felt so… easy.

Maybe it was on one of those late nights in the lab after a long day in your studio that you fell. Soft, easy conversations and eyes filled with mirth as you both exchanged wild stories and the kinds of secrets that only seem to come out when the lights dim and the stars are out.

You’d had four cups of coffee between the two of you. He was telling a story from his and Jayce’s academy days. One of the student galas towards the end of the year.

“--I’d never seen Jayce more…more, how do you call it? Ehh…”

“Wasted?” You offered. His eyes lit up.

“Yes, wasted!” He laughed, “He looked about ready to tip over– and he did, right into some poor girl.”

You shook your head as laughter bubbled out from your chest. “I think I heard about that on the tail end of the gossip chain.”

“Eh, I’m surprised you didn’t see it with how large the crowd was.”

“I didn’t go.”

He seemed surprised at this.

“I was too busy finishing up my final projects that year, I think.” You looked down into your lukewarm cup of coffee, now forgotten on the desk you’d been sitting on. “Wanted a perfect portfolio… plus I didn’t really have anyone to go with.”

When you’d looked back at him, there was something in his eyes that had made your skin buzz. If love – or whatever this is, is a fire, then surely what he’d said after were the first sparks.

“I’m sure that if I– If we, me and Jayce that is, had met you earlier you could’ve gone with us,”

Something about that slight fumbling of his words. The slight pull of his eyes before he looked back down at the machine he was tinkering with.

"Yea?"

“Yes, plus… it would’ve been nice to have someone else there to deal with the aftermath of Jayce’s poor choices.”

And every moment after that simply fanned the sparks into the rumbling flame that lived between your ribs. The first unknowing foot into the deep end.

#arcane viktor x you #viktor arcane #viktor x reader #drabble #viktor fluff

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chaoticlicense · 1 year

Note

what about 24 - “Your hair is really soft.” wiith Viktor [Arcane]?

Tags: Fluff, Viktor, Viktor x Reader, Drabble, Not Proofread

Prompt 24 is “Your hair is really soft.”

I hope you enjoy your little ficlet ❤️

Viktor is hunched over at his desk, head resting against the back of one hand while the other is splayed over his notes. He’s been sitting in that position for well over an hour. Two, at least, since that’s how long you had been in the lab with him. When you arrived, hoping to pull him away from his work for the night, he was already in the position he’s in now. You stare at him for a while, bored of reading the book you’d brought with you to read while you waited for him.

Eventually, you tuck your book away in your bag and get to your feet. You keep your steps light as you walk over to where he sits, hands behind your back. When you reach Viktor, you peer over his shoulder at his notes and study them for a moment. You don’t fully comprehend the equations but they are not the reason you’ve walked up behind him. With slow, gentle movements, you bring your hands to his shoulders. Your touch is light as you gently massage him, easing out some of the tension in his muscles.

A soft moan leaves him as he leans back into you, letting his head fall back. You take your time with him, letting your hands move from his shoulders to his neck and finally to his head. Fingers run through his hair a few times, teasing out a few knots and enjoying the soft texture of the strands. It feels freshly washed, or at least, washed in the last 24 hours. It’s unusual and you revel in it.

“What are you doing, my love?” he asks, eyes flicking up to meet yours while you stand over him.

Humming a little, you smile down at him.

“Your hair is really soft,” you muse. “And I thought you might like a little break from your work…that you were supposed to be finished with two hours ago.”

“Hmm…”

Viktor’s eyes close as you begin massaging his scalp.

“We can leave soon, my love, I promise…” he says.

“You say that every time, Vik.”

Eyes still closed, a small smile tugs at his lips. “Yes, but I quite like where I am right now. Quite comfortable.”

With a chuckle, you lean down and press a kiss to his forehead. You suppose, just this once, that you can indulge him in a little care after a long day’s work.

#chaos writes #chaotic writing #arcane #viktor #fanfiction #arcane fanfiction #viktor x reader #reader x viktor #drabble #fluff #fluffy #requests #ask chaos #chaos answers

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jinxgrenades · 2 years

Text

Because viktor is definitely a hair grabber.

Doesn’t matter if it's just holding it firmly at the back of your head, baring new skin for him to leave a mark under your open collar, lips quirking up at your small whimpers each time he tastes you-

Or yanking hard the hair at your nape when fucking you onto his cock at his table, each thrust pulling gasp after gasp out your mouth because “ Vi-Viktor Plea-se It’s s-so big.”, the position just making it go deeper, his other hand pulling your hips back on him at the chair again and again and again each time with more force, the one at your hair as an anchor to you both while you go dumb with dick and Viktor just start losing it groaning filth at your ear.

“That’s it, that’sit, thatsssit-Shit-So good for me, take it deeper just like that-”

But yeah, definitely a hair grabber.

#viktor arcane x reader #viktor smut #viktor x reader #arcane smut #viktor arcane #drabble

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seabellswish · 1 year

Text

currently thinking about Viktor with a sculptor!S/O.

Like imagine carving incredibly detailed handles for his cane and engraving his braces with intricate flourishes and designs that he likes to trace his fingers over when he’s thinking.

making him silly mugs to hold all that sweet milk and coffee he drinks; him making you tools that aid you in your craft.

helping him with the aesthetics part of his inventions, even though im pretty sure he’s already a bit of an artist ???

and when he gets down in the dirt about not having a secure legacy or not having done enough—building a small sculpture of him. It’s all you can muster between your commissions and other projects, but you promise one day you’ll make one big enough to put in the town square. He deserves something after all he’s done for the world with HexTech and his inventions. After all he’s done for you.

#drabble #?#Im new to this #viktor #viktor arcane #viktor x you #viktor x reader #imagine

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doritwo · 2 years

Text

Smut Prompt (10/?)

Prompt: "No one can ever find out about this."

this goes out to @zaunitearchives who requested this prompt ilu muahmuah

Pairing: Viktor x afab!Reader

Tags: porn with feelings, mutual pining

public sex (lab), under the desk shenanigans, nervous subby-ness to dom viktor, fingering, finger sucking, p in v, improvised tie-gag, big dick viktor agenda, viktor scrambles reader's brain, dick-drunk reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Reading time: 12 min

Translation: cizrnko - chickpea (self-indulgent nickname 🥰)

“You two are staying late?” Jayce was packing up for the night as you and Viktor sat next to each other still studying a new blueprint.

“Hm..? Oh yes y/n you may leave if you wish. I’m almost done.” Viktor rested his cheek on his fist as he flipped the blueprint to inspect the other side.

“Sure.” Jayce sighed.

“I think I’ll stay too. We can finish up quicker that way.” You reasoned and Jayce nodded before leaving the lab with a goodnight.

You moved your chair closer to him to share the prints of your projects.

“I’m so excited about this project. I have been trying to figure out how we could incorporate elements from your designs to make them capable of practical use, I just can’t understand how you come up with these designs all the time Viktor. It’s like you never sleep.” You commented as your fingers brushed over one of his sketches.

Viktor chuckled. “Maybe I don’t.” He leaned in closer to you.

He smelled like soap and shampoo with a hint of cinnamon from the many cups of the sweet flavored coffee he loved. His arm was close enough to touch. You would be lying if you said you didn't want to feel his skin against yours.

“Or maybe it is because they are so captivating. I find inspiration in them, even when I attempt to rest.” Viktor looked up at you. Your mind went blank as your gaze met his own. You felt overwhelmed and your face was hot as you slowly turned away from him and returned your focus to your work.

"Y/n?" Viktor asked in a quiet voice, "Did I say something wrong?" His head tilted ever so slightly.

You shook your head quickly, attempting to mask your fluster, "No! Nothing is wrong, Viktor." The warmth returned to your cheeks.

You must have made a contradictory expression as he continued, "Are you sure? You haven't been this quiet since we started."

"Just a long day is all." You replied while looking down at your work.

Viktor nodded in understanding before turning his head from you to the window to stare out into the darkening sky. You watched him, noting how beautiful he was illuminated by the dim light. Your heart burned as he turned around to catch your staring.

"What's on your mind?" He asked, breaking the silence.

You blinked, "Nothing really. Just thinking about what we can do next. The things we can change."

Viktor hummed in response, "I'm excited to see what you'll discover. What we’ll discover." A warm smile spread across his lips. You had seen it a few times but never quite realized just how much you enjoyed seeing it, given the rarity of the occurrence.

You two quickly decided to continue working and you sat in silence, both diligent and focused, or at least Viktor had. Perhaps he was blissfully unaware of how stupidly attractive he was. Maybe he didn’t notice your wandering eyes or awkward fidgeting. Your eyes found themselves magnetized to his profile again, his hands, where the hair met the nape of his neck –

– The way his nose scrunched when he frowned was adorable. His mouth was always slightly agape while in thought, a slight pout and the gap of his teeth showing. You noticed how the brightening moonlight reflected off his skin, making it appear to glow like porcelain.

How his eyes would sparkle when he saw something he loved. He had such an effect on you, that you were sure his beauty was a gift bestowed upon him by some higher power.

“Are you staring again?"

He knows.

"Huh?" You turned away from his gaze and back to the blueprint you were previously examining.

“You do that when my face wasn’t turned towards you, It's cute.” Viktor chuckled. “You must be really distracted.” He gestured to the paper in front of you. “You aren't one to make such a mistake under typical circumstances.”

You weren’t sure if Viktor meant to touch you when he reached over to grab the quill going unused in your hand, but you were surprised enough to accidentally pull your hand away. The collision caused him to drop the quill underneath the desk.

“Oh! Shit, I’m sorry, let me,”

“Y/n that's not necessary I-” You were already underneath the desk before Viktor could finish his sentence, your knees knocked together awkwardly as you dropped down.

You grabbed the quill out from under the desk and handed it to Viktor who took it gingerly. He turned to look at you, eyebrows raised quizzically, face red. You felt heat rise into your cheeks.

“Here.”

Viktor held the quill like it was made of glass, unsure of how to proceed. You watched in amusement, trying to ignore the warmth in your chest and elsewhere.

“Thank you, Y/n…”

There was little space to maneuver underneath the desk and with your attempt to steady yourself, your hands fell onto his legs, with a small gasp from the man above you.

His reaction sparked confidence in you as you squeezed his thighs before trailing your palms up to his lap, you started to notice the warmth your bodies created underneath the desk, he looked down mouth agape and eyes wide.

"Y/n, are you alright?" He asked more in an attempt to compose himself than to check in with genuine concern.

So flustered, so pliant, you continued your experimental touches, rubbing and squeezing the flesh of his thighs through his pants, you could feel him growing warmer.

You saw he began to strain at the groin of his pants before he threw the quill onto the desk mindlessly and placed his hands over the tent in his pants.

"This isn't … I did not intend to" He fumbled "I'm so sorry y/n."

"So you wish for me to stop then?" You attempted eye contact with him as he turned his head to the side, breathing heavily, undoubtedly contemplating how he should proceed with you.

You two were close, yes, but this? This was unexpected, even to you. You both are bold to be sure, the tension between you had stretched thin to a mere thread, destined to break at this moment, he has only to ask.

"So it was your intention then?"

You answered with a curt nod, looking at him with half-lidded eyes.

"In that case, please... don't stop." His hands returned to the desk, opening and closing his fists, unsure what the do with them as you worked his buttons, and pulled him from his underwear with a slap against his skin, his cock reached nearly below his belly button, thick and long, and a peachy color reddening at the tip. His hips dotted beautifully with moles, beckoning to be tasted.

And how could you deny such an invitation?

"Mmh... Yn?" He breathed, and you raised your eyebrows and hummed in response. "No one can ever find out about this."

"Not a soul," You whispered against his skin sending a shiver through him.

Your lips pressed against the first, your tongue reaching out to leave a wet caress trailing from one mole to the other before backing away and you took notice of one on his lower shaft, and one just below the head.

He whimpered above you, his hands in perpetual fists as your breath warmed his cock before you kissed and licked up and down his thick shaft.

"Shit-" He hissed as he threw his head back, giving you a breathtaking view of his neck and the curls that surrounded it. "Ah I mean- pardon me-" You took his head into your mouth, twirling your tongue playfully around the swollen glans, "-fuck!"

He seemed unable to hold himself upright and he collapsed against the desk, you could hear the papers crumple and a few flew off, floating in the air for a moment before they reached the ground.

His fingers threaded themselves through your hair tugging gently. He grunted again as his hips bucked, fucking himself into your mouth filling your throat causing you to gag, and he choked out an apology. Your eyebrows furrowed and eyes bleary as you forced your throat to fit him, and he whined a pleasured cry at the feeling of your throat constricting impossibly tight around him.

It was a sight to behold, being the cause of his erudite mind descending into complete disarray.

You could see the muscle flex in his abdomen while his fingers moved along your jawline, cautiously grasping your head, examining your expression before continuing to press your head lower onto his cock.

It felt wonderful, so warm and smooth beneath your tongue. He groaned again, this time louder and more demanding. His head arched back and his back bent inwards, causing his hips to thrust upwards.

A few moments after you bobbed your head and wetted his cock nearly to the base, your tongue moved slowly upwards towards his tip sucking at his head once more, collecting the slick precum on your tongue.

"Y/n... I- may I take you in earnest?" He caressed your jaw as it hung open.

"And what exactly do you have in mind, hm?" You stroked the underside with your fingertips, and more of his pre-cum swiped against his belly, sticking to his happy trail, leaving him biting his lip before wheeling the stool back with his heels.

He reached his hands out to you and you held them, warm and big, his hands nearly engulfing your own as he pulled you out from under the desk.

His thumbs caressed your knuckles as he leaned in to press his lips against your own, surprisingly chaste for a man who just had his dick in your mouth.

His hands released yours and slid down to your ass, pulling you closer to him and you felt his length press against your body eliciting a lewd groan from Viktor into your mouth leading to an open-mouthed kiss.

You grasped at the base of his neck and threaded his locks through your fingers with a gentle tug.

He pressed kisses all around your mouth, peppering them lightly against your cheeks and jaw, his nose brushing against your earlobe, savoring your taste and scent.

You delighted in every second of his undivided attention, allowing him a rare chance at tasting you and exploring your mouth until he was completely lost in the sensation. He pushed you back until you hit the desk behind you, causing you to moan at the feel of his weight pressing against you.

You brought your hands to his hair grasping eagerly to push his mouth closer to yours and he backed away with a pant, a look of pensiveness on his face.

“Y/n, there is something I must say before we continue this… exchange.” his fingers trailed from your arm to your shoulder. “I would not think any less of you if this were to be a casual encounter, but I must be entirely honest with you y/n,” The back of his fingers caressed your cheek lightly, “I… I love you.”

The words hung heavy in the air, a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty, almost as though it were the first time he'd said it aloud.

"You do?" You almost wanted to smack yourself for the cliched response but his hand grasped yours tighter and the other held your face up to look at him.

"Yes. I wanted more than anything to tell you since the beginning, but I was too afraid you wouldn't reciprocate my feelings." He looked at his feet. "That I would have ruined something good if you did not."

It sounded so rehearsed, so practiced, but you couldn't deny the way his hand trembled as it held yours. You leaned forward placing a tender kiss on his lips.

"I love you too. I have for some time." You chuckled, "If I'm being honest, I thought you knew." His fingers tightened their grip on you slightly and he smiled, releasing a breathy laugh into your mouth.

"I'm afraid affairs of love are a blind spot of mine, darling." He planted another kiss on your lips, "But we can work on this together,"

"We'll have plenty of time for that afterward." You leaned in to leave a kiss on his cheek, then whispered into his ear, "won't we?"

You felt him shudder at your touch. "Ah, of course, cizrnko."

"Cizrnko-?" You questioned.

"Just something I feel suits you..." He reasoned before burying his head into the crook of your neck, his hands continued to explore your torso sending chills through you.

You allowed your arms to wrap around him, holding him close against you.

You could still remember when you'd first started falling for him, the butterflies and flutters of affection you felt whenever he was around you, those same feelings resurfacing now. The way he made you feel, the way he made you want to be near him, the way he made you feel safe.

You loved him.

You wanted him more than anything.

His hands fell lower and lower, and he backed away from your neck slowly, "Can I touch you?"

You yearned for more of his attention, more of his touch. The warmth between your legs becomes nearly unbearable. "Please,"

He obliged palming you through your pants and making you shudder. His hand was so big, the friction was overwhelming and you moaned, your back arching as you tried to catch your breath.

"You like that don't you?"

"Ngh..." You nodded.

"You want me to touch you properly, don't you?" He pressed a kiss to your neck, nibbling softly, and then sucked on your pulse point eliciting a gasp from you. "Say it... Say you want me to fuck you with my fingers."

"Viktor please..." You moaned, the feeling almost foreign to you. His hand slipped inside of your pants, his fingers rubbing against your clit making you arch your back into his grasp.

"Shh.. as much as I want to hear you we have to be quiet." He hushed. Your breath quickened as he began to pump his fingers inside of you, his palm rubbing over your clit, and your legs spread more for him, meeting the thrusts of his long fingers.

You bit your lip trying to suppress a whimper, but a sharp intake of breath escaped your lips when he began to move faster, rubbing circles around your bud between each thrust, the pad of his digits pressing against your walls, hitting the spot that made you shake and clench around him.

"Shit... you're close?" He muttered. "Fuck... Y/n, come for me, let go for me." He growled, his fingers pressing harder against that spot, fucking you through your orgasm as you suppressed your moans. "Oh... you're so fucking good for me, cizrnko,"

He withdrew his fingers from you, examining them covered in your cum before licking the tip with a groan.

"So fucking good." He brought his fingers to your mouth, pressing them to your bottom lip, "Open."

And you did, his fingers slid into your mouth, sticky and sweet with your cum as he pressed them against your tongue. "Good, just like that." He praised "Now," He pulled his fingers from your mouth. "I am not quite finished with you yet," He grasped your ass pulling you off the edge of the desk and pulling your pants down "Turn around." He commanded and you did as he said, you bent over the desk giving him a good angle to take you. He grabbed your hips tightly, "Tell me if anything is too much, I want to make you feel good."

"Yes, yes please just- Ah-!" He pressed the tip against you, pushing in easily with your wetness. He hissed as he buried himself in your cunt, still pulsing from your last orgasm.

"Gods, y/n, I love how wet you are." He murmured as he thrust into you. His praise went through you like electricity and you let out a debauched moan.

"Fuck, y/n, I said you have to be quiet," He brought his hand around to cover your mouth "You have to," he repeated. You nodded as he fucked into you again and again.

"Mmmh," You whimpered against his palm.

You noticed his thrusts becoming erratic and uncalculated for a moment then a flash of red in his other hand grasped his un-done tie balled up.

"Put this in your mouth," He instructed, your mouth opened submissively as he placed the tie in your mouth.

Both his hands gripped your hips once more, using them to push you on and off his cock. He fucked you fiercely, making you collapse halfway onto the desk, your fingernails scratching at the metal.

He felt amazing, making you lose all coherent thought, it was all him, just him and his cock fucking you.

You were drowning in pleasure, drowning in the taste of him, drowning in the sound of his moans and grunts as he continued slamming into you and you could barely register it all because every part of you was focused solely on him. He filled you, making the heat in your stomach grow.

You felt the pressure building and you wanted more of it, wanted to get lost in his touch and in the feeling of his body on top of you, filling you completely, fucking you as if his own life depended on it. He took you by surprise by moving one of his hands down and stroking your clit chasing your orgasm.

Your knees buckled under you and you clutched at the desk trying to steady yourself as you came undone beneath him, mind-shattering and immense, the pleasure washing over you until you collapsed, sated, weak, and spent in his arms.

You were panting heavily as he continued to fuck you, still keeping a tight hold of the tie balled up in your teeth.

"Are you okay, cizrnko?" He asked, voice hoarse and ragged. You managed to nod against the desk. He pulled out and you whined, clenching around nothing.

He bent over you to take the tie from your mouth as he stroked himself. You turned around on the desk, spreading your legs and lifting your shirt to show your belly.

"Cum, please, I want to feel it." You begged, placing your hand on his own as he stroked faster. He came with a growl and it shot onto your stomach and pressed the head against your cunt, you felt the warmth of it spill into your opening.

You sighed contently before bringing your arms around his shoulders pulling him closer. and he ran a hand through your hair.

"Don't ever forget that I love you."

“Never," You whispered wrapping your arms around his chest, snuggling into his warm embrace, and resting your head against his chest. A soft smile spread across his face. He rested his cheek against the crown of your head.

"Sleep with me tonight?" He spoke quietly, running his hand over your hair.

"Sleep? I thought you never went to bed." You teased. He kissed your forehead.

"Maybe I don't... but with you? I fear I may never leave it."

#viktor x reader #viktor x you #arcane x reader #league x reader #smut drabble challenge #if you see mistakes no u didnt #i was too excited to post my bad #teehee

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multi-fandom-imagine · 3 months

Note

Hii, can you please do Viktor x reader, like where his wife is pregnant and you can make it a headcon or oneshot (((ps I hardly see Viktor x readerss)))please ignore this if you don't wanna :')

A/n: I love this! Viktor would be the best husband to you, you can't change my mind.

"You shouldn't be moving?!" His accent slipping through.

You didn't get very far before Viktor lifted you up in his arms caring you over to the couch. A groan leaving your lips as you slumped into his chest.

"You do know I'm not made out of glass Viktor....I am allowed to walk around the house."

Grumbling, Viktor sat down on the couch still holding you close as he rubbed your back relaxing into his touch. "I know."

"You're not going to let me walk around are you?"

A deep rumble escapes his chest as he then moved his hand to the baby bump. "No...I will carry you."

Rolling your eyes, your lips twitched into a smile as you placed your hand on top of his. "Really? Aren't I heavy Viktor?"

Pressing his nose into your neck, he let out a sigh inhaling your scent. "Het....it's like holding a handful of grapes."

Shifting your body so you were in more comfortable position you rested your head on his chest snuggling into him more. "Well...that's good to know."

Letting out a small grunt, he continued to rub your back doing his best to let you sleep. "Now get some sleep, you and the little one need it."

"Ya....ya." Biting back a yawn, your eyes slid closed again as you finally fell asleep.

Watching you, a content sigh left his lips. In this little home he was finally at peace, it was normal, he felt normal and it was thanks to you and his unborn child.

#drabbles #drabble #viktor vasko #viktor vasko x reader #viktor vasko x you #viktor vasko x y/n #viktor vasko lackadaisy #lackadaisy x y/n #lackadaisy x you #lackadaisy x reader #lackadaisy viktor #lackadaisy viktor vasko #viktor #viktor x reader #viktor x you #viktor x y/n

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allora1233 · 11 months

Text

𝕋𝕠𝕡 𝕊𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗

genre: fluff - drabble

pairing: Viktor x Reader

wc: >1k

a/n: I'm back! And it's about time I wrote something for my man, even if it is a drabble. I love Viktor so much, expect more in the future. Not proofread

Viktor sighs as he tries and fails to grab a book from the top shelf over the lab desk. You could practically hear him mentally cursing out Jayce for putting it all the way up there. Stifling a giggle, you decided to help the poor man out. Standing up from Jayce's swivel seat, you walk over to him. "You need a hand?" Viktor glances at you from over his shoulder, a soft chuckle escaping him. "No offense, but if I cannot reach this, then you definitely will not be able to."

You know he's right, you did stand at shoulder high for him after all. But that doesn't stop you from putting a hand on your chest and feigning offense. "Well, I'll have you know that living by myself for a long while now has helped me learn how to reach top shelves. Especially since I throw stuff up that high assuming it'll be future me's problem, and then it is future me's problem." Viktor raises an eyebrow and smiles, stepping aside and motioning his hand for you to go ahead. You take a step closer, look down at the desk and back up to the shelf.

Carefully moving stuff over to the next station and clearing the desk space, you lift your legs up and kneel up onto the desk, giving yourself enough height to reach the top shelf. Viktor looks up at you a little panicked. "Please be careful. I do not want you getting hurt-" "Trust me Vik, I've been doing this for years, even when I was little. It's practically impossible for me to fall like this." You cut him off as you grab the book and hand it to him. He sighs and smiles gratefully as he takes the book and holds it under his arm. "Thank you." You sit down on the desk, turning your body to face him. "No problem. Just don't kill Jayce later over this." He pats your head before walking over to his station, opening the book and scanning through the pages. "No promises."

#allora✿works #viktor #arcane #viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor x you #viktor drabble #drabble #arcane drabble #arcane x reader #arcane x you #x y/n #x reader #x you #viktor arcane x reader #viktor arcane x you #arcane x y/n #viktor x y/n

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astudyincontrasts · 1 year

Note

You gave us jealous viktor which is great

But what about

HIS S/O GETTING JEALOUS BC OTHER GIRLS ARE PAYING ATTENTION TO HIM

You got it, nonny. And just to kill two birds, we’re making this a continuation of drunk!Viktor for everyone asking for a second part.

Inspired by @arcanescribbles artwork featured above, full work here

Viktor x Fem!Reader NSFW - Part 1

You didn’t know what you should have expected after that drunken night together. It surely wasn’t this, though. Awkwardness had been anticipated, sure. Perhaps a touch of sweetly embarrassed self-consciousness around each other at what you’d done, at the fumbling, wordless admissions you’d both made about your attraction to each other.

Because what had happened sure hadn’t felt one-sided.

Now, though… now you weren’t so sure. The notion that perhaps Viktor had just been sloshed out of his wits and not actually interested in you had opened like a yawning, sickening little pit within. A sinkhole growing by the day as he avoided direct eye contact, made no effort at all to speak with you beyond the formality of cool greeting or farewell. Worse still, he never seemed to be in a room alone with you, or a room alone at all, preventing any attempt at quiet or private conversation about what had happened.

Truely, it was as if nothing indeed had happened at all. At least for him. Cool, collected, buried in his work, Viktor carried on his day to day blithely unaware of how you stood there, burning. A crackling, scorching human flame of unanswered questions growing more painfully hotter by the day. No, you were back to being another moving bit of the scenery in his world. Nameless, faceless drone among the other lab workers and teaching assistants.

Perhaps you should have taken his example, forgotten all about that night and went on with life as usual. It wasn’t as if he’d used you, after all, or led you on. And with how incredibly drunk you’d both been nothing serious had happened. Just a bit of heavy petting, just the feel of his skin on your skin, his large palms and long fingers greedy to cup each curve they could find, eager to squeeze and leave little light bruises behind that had just about faded to nothing a few days later. Just the taste of his mouth, the heat of his tongue, just…

Maybe that was it. Maybe the fact he’d had too much to drink to stay fully hard had him embarrassed. Or the fact he’d passed out sleepily on you the second he had you beneath him on the couch. Honestly, you’d slept together but that was it. Just sleep. Just a cuddled pile of half-clothed bodies dozing off the booze in a tangled heap of unsatiated sexual frustration.

Or perhaps it was that you’d left so ignominiously; waking well before him to untangle yourself, redress and sneak out without saying a word. At the time you’d blearily thought it was for the best. That this was saving the both of you an awkward, painfully hungover morning of shame and apology. Now you realized you’d instead tossed away your one opportunity to actually make sense of what had happened, together.

Had he been hurt, when he woke and you weren’t there? Or confused? Maybe he’d thought it hadn’t happened, that it had all been a boozy dream. Or maybe he’d misunderstood your leaving as tacit agreement to pretend like your drunken fumble had never occurred.

It was difficult to say which of any of these horrible theories you liked least; that he had never been interested in you, that he was embarrassed of what had happened or regretted it, or that he felt hurt by how you’d slipped away like a thief without a word. And no way to know since you couldn’t talk to him.

It was making you sick, the uncertainty.

Sicker still to watch how little it seemed to affect him. Going about his everyday, blissfully unaware of the weight of your gaze or the crumbling edge of the pit within you that kept shearing off beneath your feet as you suffered his presence in the world in silence. It made you bitterly angry, had you short and sharp with everyone around you, made you feel like a mess of a person while he, gleaming and perfect and calmly polished, sat above it all untouched.

The breaking point came that weekend. Almost two weeks to the day that your world had been unraveled by something as innocent as a little too much wine with dinner.

Progress Day. The first one since the founding of the HexTech labs, since the breakthrough Jayce and Viktor had made that promised to change the world. The first Progress Day since the council had approved HexTech for research and funded the project to design and build what would eventually become the first of the HexGates. The experiments in controlling and directing the gates were coming along, and everyone was giddy with anticipation of the first manned attempt at travel scheduled in the coming months.

Normally you loved the pageantry of the holiday. Loved the tents and brilliant inventions on display, the bustle and busyness of the open streets and multicolored, intricate tents. A feast for the eyes, the imagination, the mind and the senses, overwhelming and exhausting in all the best possible ways.

But instead of a riot of color, your world was a wash of stark grays lit only by the livid flash of angry red as you stood there, manning the HexTech displays and tables along with your fellow lab workers, watching the fawning adoration of the crowds that streamed into the tent to meet the two men of the hour who were touting a brave new world for Piltover.

Jayce was ever the natural; warm and delighted in the fawning attention, the undisputed and easy locus of the majority of the crowd. Viktor less so, more reserved, but still beneficent in his acceptance of the attention. He seemed to catch the overflow from those who couldn’t reach Jayce through the thick gathering that surrounded them both.

And you stood there and watched, as over and over and over again some young woman or another chatted him up. Fluttered eyelashes and smiled up at him, one after another, blushing prettily as he spoke earnestly, putting hands upon him in a vaguely inviting manner that had you want to vomit on your own feet. Stomach lurching every single time he returned a smile, or someone got a little laugh out of him.

So many strangers apparently perfectly deserving of his attention while you were spared not a crumb. Pretty Piltie debutants and eager university students alike, all lined up to take a greedy mouthful of what you’d already had a taste of.

Your limit came when one of them, her hand resting upon his shoulder, leaned up on tiptoe to whisper something into his ear and you watched that insufferably pretty mouth of his curl cockeyed into a smile at the edge just under that dark little beauty mark.

The prototype model you held in the clammy grasp of cold-sweat slicked hands slammed onto the table top, your fellow lab engineers jumping at the sudden violence of it and no doubt staring at your angry little outburst as you spun on a heel and marched off. Head throbbing with every livid heartbeat, the world a hot flame, you cut your way back to the silence of the labs through the crush of crowds and throngs of faceless revelers.

They could all burn. It could all burn.

The labs were mercifully empty. Quiet. Work, work would help, surely. The equations were a worthy opponent and the technical engineering a safe, logical haven where everything was neat, ordered, made perfect sense. Nevermind that you couldn’t possibly do an ounce of the delicate work with how badly your hands shook at the moment. Calm would come. It had to. First, to the stockroom to shed the fancy frippery of the university waistcoat and tie for the protection of one of the lab smocks and to get the equipment and ledgers you needed.

You were just tugging loose the intricate triple fold knot of the tie when you heard your name.

The question of your name, in that familiar voice. Accent too gentle with the syllables of it, too careful with the sound. Oh no. Janna, no. Please.

Viktor’s long, lean shape darkened the doorway of the small stockroom closet a moment later and you felt your mouth go dry even as burning wet prickled unwelcome along your lower lashes.

“Am I interrupting?”

“What are you doing here? You’ll be missed. Don’t want to disappoint all those adoring-”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Viktor’s even, unbothered tone cut off your hotly callous harshness.

“I’ve got work to do.” It was a thin excuse, and as brittle as your voice.

“Oh. I see.” He was so gently willing to let you have your facade that it almost stung more than if he’d pushed back, dismantled your flimsy excuse and left you unprotected and easily seen. A moment’s awkward silence fell like a sharp edged stone heavy between the pair of you as he turned, glanced toward the exit across the lab, and you felt sure he’d take the easy escape.

Instead he turned back, and one stilted step after another brought him into the closet with you.

How many days now, had you been silently screaming, begging that he just look your way, just pay you an ounce of attention, acknowledge you existed? And now, under the weight of both those amber eyes you fervently wished to disappear. Your turn not to be able to look at him, hands struggling with your tie in a way that only made the knot tighter.

“Is something the matter?”

“W-why would anything be the matter?” You asked thickly, dropping hands to your sides hard as you gave up strangling yourself with your tie and instead stared at the shelving in front of you as if it had done a personal injury to every member of your family and your dog as well. “You’d better hurry back. Wouldn’t want to-”

“Are you mad at me?” The quiet question stopped you cold. Viktor’s cane clicked once more upon the floor as he swayed a step closer, and then hung the thing from the edge of a shelf to reach forward and pull the knot of silk around your throat loose. Careful fingers teased the mess you’d made of it until you should have been able to breathe again, were it not for all the air in the room vanishing with his proximity.

So close you could feel the warmth of him. So close you could smell that clean soap-chalk-coffee scent that was so essentially him. Eyes closed tight, if only to stop the hot prickling threat of unbidden tears, brows knit hard together as you forced the hard thud heartbeat in your temples to cease, to let you think clearly godsdammit.

“I confess, I can’t remember everything that happened the other night. I’m afraid I might have done something I regret.” He continued, when you failed to answer.

There it was. That sickly sense of nausea returned in double at the thought you’d taken advantage of him, that you’d both been too intoxicated and he’d never wanted what you’d convinced yourself he’d instigated. That sucking void within beckoned dizzyingly. Fall. You deserved it.

The silk at your throat parted and you felt a tug on the back of your neck that confused you, had eyes opening to find Viktor’s hands with a grasp of either end of your tie, using the looped tether of it to drag you closer, inch by fractional inch until you had to turn the question of your gaze up to meet his.

His expression was tight, almost pained. Like he was struggling to sift through the right words, or couldn’t force them to come at all.

“Viktor-”

“I think… I fell asleep on you. During… well, before. Anything.” His attention had slipped from your eyes to your mouth as you stared at him in confused consternation, “Embarrassing, I’m sorry.”

Wait. He was sorry? That was his regret - falling asleep?

“Have you.” You had to stop yourself, swallow, fix a point of focus on the little mole just below his one eye to keep the world from dissolving around you before you continued, each word coming out clipped and heavy, “Have you been avoiding me?”

Golden flecked gaze lifted slowly from its fascination with your mouth to find your eyes again, and the silently strained discomfort of his expression said it all. Don’t make me be this brave again sober. The breath you sucked was sharp, prickled with the barbed thorns of sudden epiphany.

“When you weren’t there in the morning, I thought… Well. And ever since you’ve seemed angry.”

Stupid boy. Stupid, stupid, Janna how could the smartest man you knew also be the most profoundly stupid… Alright, not that you’d been so incredibly intelligent about all this yourself, but.

All that doubt, all that jealous anger and uncertainty came rushing forward in a searing burst as you shoved him back against the shelves, caught his mouth as you went tiptoe and stopped the both of you saying another foolish word. His initial grunt of shock thinned and warmed to a hungry little hum as that rough kiss deepened. As you caught his lower lip in the tug of teeth before seeking the invitation of the press of his tongue against your own. Hands found his tie and this time you mercifully did not make a mess of it as you got it loose, flung it away and yanked the buttons at his throat open until you could get to skin, skin yes Janna, the taste of his skin again under your mouth.

Above you Viktor sucked a sharp hiss of a breath between teeth as you buried your face in his throat; biting, suckling hard kisses, pouring every last drop of that fruitless jealousy into each taste of him. Leaving a messy clustered path of darkening red and faintly purpling bruises behind from beneath his ear down to the sweet cut of his collarbone as his hands found the shape of your head, fingers sinking into hair and fisting tightly each time you nipped sharply or licked ticklishly over the faint pulse just under the hinge of his sharp jaw.

Yours, and everyone would know it. Everyone would see.

Reeling back a fraction, you gulped air as fingertips stroked lightly over your handiwork, smiling thinly to yourself at the pretty little patterns of pink and plum you’d wrought on that long, pale column of his throat.

“What…?” He was mumbling, puzzled at your smug, dark little expression of satisfaction, clearly as confused as he had been a few moments earlier about the nature of your feelings for him.

“Now all of those girls will know. I don’t want a single one of them thinking they can… I don’t want anyone to…” Words failed you as the hot sting of watching all those pretty women flirt with him as you stood helplessly by came rushing back and eyes darted from the possessive little marks you’d left to catch his gaze. Found him looking lost and confused but madly wanting. Brilliant idiot.

“I’m sorry I left. I shouldn’t have left.” Everything felt like a heady, dizzy hurry. Two weeks worth of frustration and need pouring out and wiping away any sense of reason in the crushing wave.

You slid to your knees and had his pants open before he could even suck a breath to shape a noise of protest or encouragement. Desperate to show him how he didn’t need a single one of those other girls, to show him how much you’d wanted what had happened the other night and how badly you craved more.

Face pressed into the part of trousers, breath humid as your hands slid over his clothed groin, eyes turned upward in the heavy lidded need that he understand.

“Tell me to stop.” You mumbled, finding the weight and soft curve of his balls through the fabric of trousers, cupping them in a constricting, slow roll of one palm that made the lovely shape of his mouth drop open.

“Nno. No, don’t.” His order was strangled, softly cracked and urgent.

He hissed relief when you freed him at last, gave him respite from the ever tightening confines of clothing and wrapped both warm hands around the considerable girth of his cock. More than you’d anticipated, and the back of your throat burned just looking at it. Gently curved leftward, thickness of it run through with two branching rising veins like a deep blue lichtenburg under pale but flushing skin. The smooth bell curve head of him ruddy with an invitingly deepening rouge along slit and beneath the ridged rise of its edge.

He practically invited taste from look alone, had you all too eager to lick the sensitive head of his cock to a glossy wetness as your hands worked him, pumping slow, too slow if the way his hips rutted forward into their grasp had anything to say about it, yet he made no move to guide or halt you. One long fingered hand pressed to the flat of his own stomach, holding the front tails of his shirt up and back, offering a tantalizing view of the thin, darkly chestnut trail of hair that traced from just above his navel to the base of the cock in your grasp. The other hand still gripping your hair, throwing you right back to how he’d teased you that night. How he’d so perfectly summoned all those secret, dirty little fantasies of doing exactly this, exactly here, in this room.

An urgent, near angry little sound from him as you toyed tongue beneath the straining little sensitive line of frenulum beneath the head of his cock let you know the limits of teasing had been hit. And once more you turned eyes upward, only to feel him tighten his grip upon your hair, the strained, sweet tugging burn coursing over your scalp in a centering little delicious burn of faint pain.

The look on his face had your thighs clench against each other hard. Amber eyes gazing down from a face whose lovely angles made such a welcome seat for the bruised lust enthroned there. Softly dark and dangerous, ravenously wanting in that thinly veiled way that looked so wonderfully devious in place of his usually guileless expression.

The warm, wet heat of your tongue flattened out, let the weight of his head just rest there before you sucked the tormenting tenderness of a wet little kiss off skin made slick by both the oozing beads of his own cum and your licking ministrations.

“Do you want me?” The words mumbled against the hot of his flesh pressed against your wetted lips.

He nodded and you frowned, the slight corkscrew spiral stroke of your hands slowing. The genius finally caught the hint.

“Yes.” The answer was breathy, molasses thick and dark.

“Just me?”

“Janna, yes.” You watched the heavy line of his brows tug in at their center as his knuckles pressed urgency at the back of your head.

Lips parted as you pressed forward, holding his gaze unflinchingly as you let him into your mouth, watching his face, watching him come undone as he sank into the welcoming heat, until you had to let eyes drift shut as he nudged against the back of your throat. One stilted swallow followed the repressed little shudder of a gag before you exhaled and opened in a slow relaxation that let him slide in as deep as you could take.

He tasted good, faintly bitter and sweat salt, clean and saturated with the heady, masculine scent that was just purely him. So lost in the taste of him, in the feel of him filling your mouth, the weight of him against your tongue and lodged deep in your throat that you nearly missed the groaned, quiet noise he made above you a moment before the tug upon your hair insisted that you move.

Hands braced against lean thighs as you let him set the pace, let him use you, hollow cheeked and sucking hard, tongue a little curl around the sensitive heat of his head upon each withdraw. Let him fuck your mouth at a languid pace that belied the urgency of how his hand in your hair was beginning to shake ever so slightly and the tension of thighs beneath your hands trembled with each little, restrained buck of his hips against the back of your throat.

The heated, weighted ache that had settled between your own thighs had you squirming, struggling to keep the balance on knees burning against the unforgiving hard floor. If you could just drop one hand… slide it into the waistband of pants and-

“Viktor?”

Eyes flew open and a strangled little sound of shock and protest ripped from your throat as Viktor frantically yanked you off of himself with his grip of your hair, leaving tears welling reflexively at the sudden sharp burn of your scalp.

“Viktor?!”

Oh gods, oh fuck, oh no. Jayce’s familiar voice and footsteps were approaching the open door to the stockroom too quickly to do anything about. Viktor’s hands closed over your arms and heaved you upright, and in a second you were crushed full body against him, head tucked under his chin, face hidden from the door, the line of your body obscuring his state of arousal and undress.

“Vikto….ooooOH MY GODS. OH JANNA. Oh, I am. I am so sorry. Ha. Oh, oh I’m sorry. Hahaha uhh. Sorry.”

You didn’t need to see Jayce standing in the doorway to know exactly how he’d reeled backward at the shock of finding his decidedly monk like, workaholic, staid introvert of a partner clearly in the throes of an illicit little fun in the lab, of all places. Didn’t need to see him to guess at how he’d most likely slapped a hand over his own eyes, but was now more than likely also peering through the slats of two fingers at the disheveled pair of you. At Viktor’s rumpled and opened shirt and all the darkening marks you’d peppered across throat and collarbone making it impossible to mistake what he’d stumbled upon for anything other than the dalliance it so clearly was.

Viktor’s arm tightened around you as you shoved the hot, mortified flush of your face into the safety of the crook of his far shoulder, clinging to him for dear life.

“What. Did. You. Want.” He asked, strained tone clipped and teeth clenched audibly.

“There’s a… gods I’m sorry. It’s nothing. The uh papers wanted a picture of us all, and uhm we got an invite to the councilors’ cocktail reception tonight… I’m gonna, I’ll uhm, meet you out there.” Jayce’s voice trailed off as you could hear him back pedaling through the lab as he spoke until the slam of the outer door punctuated his departure.

The way the pair of you sagged against each other and groaned in unison might have been hilarious under any other circumstance. As it was, it did have you each smiling ruefully, regretfully at one another in flitting glances that were shockingly shy given what you’d been doing not a moment before.

His hands rose, cradled your head in a soothing touch as his mouth brushed your forehead, and for some reason that tenderness had you far more flustered than any of the filth that had just come before.

“Did I hurt you? I’m sorry.”

“N-no.” You offered up the white lie to save his concern, and accepted another soft kiss further up, against the tickle of your hairline before he released you.

It was clear, with how Viktor struggled himself back into his pants once you stepped back a touch, that going back to what you’d been doing was not on the menu. And regret flooded eagerly in to fill the indent where all that sweet want had sat so deliciously heavy within.

“Viktor…” You weren’t sure where to begin or where even that sentence would end as you stood there, tugging at the hem of your waistcoat.

He caught your face up instead, cupped cheeks in both hands and tilted you up into the hurried rush of a kiss before his forehead pressed to yours.

“Do you want to come to a party tonight with me, or would you rather stay home? …Also with me.” He added, quickly. Brilliant idiot.

“I…”

“Let me know. I have to go now.” He bent, grabbed his tie, and caught his cane up off the shelf he’d hooked it to. One last little stolen peck of a kiss burned warmly upon the apple of your cheek as he gifted you a slanting, reserved small smile on his way out the stockroom.

Left you to stand there, spinning while holding perfectly still, trying to sort out which way was up and what had just happened. All that energy so ill spent in the last two weeks suddenly gone, leaving you feeling drained, empty save for the warm fluttering of confused excitement about how wrong you’d been. The glut of emotions was overwhelming, had you covering your face with both hands to exhale a silent scream.

No, it hadn’t been a mistake. Drunk and messy, yes, but not a mistake. Oh oh gods, the marks you’d left on him! The way you’d both been caught red-handed…

No, no you had to get yourself together. Get out of here, go outside, get lost in the crowd and ride out the confused elation and embarrassment and excitement surrounded by the distracting noise and crush of strangers. No sooner had you hurriedly straightened yourself out and caught your breath, no sooner had you stepped out of the closet then you’d nearly walked face first into Viktor.

One more taste of his mouth in the rush of yet another hurried kiss as he caught your chin between thumb and the crook of forefinger.

“Please say you don’t want to go to that party.” He begged breathlessly, crooked smile broad and eyes bright, as shocked, you shook your head in agreement.

“Good. My place tonight?”

“Ye-yes ok.”

Sweet little thrill, to watch those fox-slanted golden eyes narrow in delight before he released you and hurried off, in so much as that gait let him hurry, only to stop by the doors and cast one more little hooking smile over a shoulder before he disappeared.

#viktor drabble #viktor x reader #viktor arcane #arcane fic #viktor fic #happy sinday ya'll #part three you say? don't mind if i do #thank you scribs bby for the constant inspiration #muah

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sweatandwoe · 2 years

Note

Love Love LOVE your writing!!! If you have the time, could I request a drabble about impulsive love-confession? Doesnt matter who, I just really like the idea of high-adrenaline confessions out of nowhere, and would love to see your take on it when you have the chance <3

OH I LOVE THIS PROMPT!

How about some more Viktor? Two days of Viktor! This one takes place between Act 1 and Act 2.

Viktor x GN!Reader Drabble

"Okay. Three steps back."

"Viktor, are you sure-"

"It's safe." He assured, glancing over his shoulder. The goggles obstructed his eyes, but his lips were twitching. Once you took the three steps back, it turned into a full smirk, while his head moved back to face the floating panels. "In theory."

"Viktor."

"It's almost done, just a moment."

You watched, eyeing the experiment. This would be the first test of the newest hexcore model. It wasn't a final version, nowhere close, but if it was a success - it would mean a change for the future. The change of hextech, it would mean Jayce could go forward with the plans to the Council. That things would start to change.

Holding your breath, you didn't take your eyes away as Viktor began to put in the last symbols. Twisting the gears, before he got to the last one, pausing. Another glance back at you, his eyes unreadable behind the shaded glass.

He turned back after a moment and turned the handles once more.

At once, the panels around the core tightened to it. Blue sparks emerging from it, and it seemed to draw everything close, as you watched bits and pieces start flying off desks, and had to plant your feet into the ground.

Viktor managed to keep himself planted, holding himself until finally there was a large spark, and he twisted the handles once more with a shout.

A flash of light and everything dropped. You nearly lost your balance, as Viktor slumped forward against the desk.

But the core was floating, with the metal panels still pressed close. Like the early hextech crystals, but larger.

Viktor removed the eyewear, letting it fall to the ground as he took it in. And soon you were moving in close, standing at his side.

The weight seemed to crash off your shoulders, as you took in a breath. "It worked."

"It worked." Viktor confirmed, and turned to look at you. Both of you holding the other's gaze before you crashed together. Arms around each other, as you both laughed and shouted.

"It worked!" Your arms were around his neck, half thrown around him. "It worked."

His hands drew over your back, his shoulders falling. "I couldn't have done this without you."

You pulled back, only back far enough to look at his face, more because of the way his fingers had dug into your back. "You could've. Remember, the original plan was to do this with Jayce."

"I couldn't have done this. I needed you-"

"Viktor, you don't need me-"

"I do." Amber eyes staring down at you, searching your face like he had never seen you before. Like it was the first time he was truly seeing you. "I need you. I want you." There was a pause, his cheeks growing in color. "I love you."

You froze. Gaze flickering over his face, as the adrenaline from the success of the experiment died down, only for a new, far more panicked adrenaline to take its place. "You do?"

That got a chuckle, one hand removing from your back to cup your cheek. "How could I not? You're wonderful. Beautiful. Intelligent. Kind." And he was leaning in, but frowning. You weren't pulling from him, even as he drew your face closer. "Do you think you could feel the same? One day?"

And now you felt your lips twitch, eyes stinging with nothing but joy. "Viktor, I already feel the same." You leaned in, and he met you halfway. "I love you too."

The kiss is soft and sweet, with the promise for more. And with the way Viktor was gripping you, you had a feeling more would be coming soon.

#Viktor x reader #daily drabble arcane #arcane #viktor arcane #acrane x reader

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heraldeez · 2 years

Text

Fidget Toys

Viktor x Reader | 1.8K | NSFW

Warnings/Tags: fondling, oral, facials, come sharing, and copious descriptions of touching this man’s balls.

You sneak in some quality time while Viktor deals with paperwork, and need something to keep your hands busy. Luckily, he comes equipped.

A/N: I’m not going to lie, balls are weird. But I was having many ball thoughts while at work a couple weeks back, and this little fic demanded to be written.

@dicax-asina also demanded it be written. Go thank her for being a peach and for talking with me about balls for two weeks straight. :]

—

Viktor is cradled in your lap, legs spread just enough to fit your hand between them.

He rapidly twirls one curl of hair around his finger, eyes locked on the papers in front of him, while you gently, gently rub at his balls, cupping them in your palm, stroking your thumb over the sensitive skin.

They’re soft against your hand, in direct contrast to the needy hardness that lay just above. You swirl your fingers against the light layer of downy hair, enjoying the texture of the delicate skin. It’s soothing, you decide, to play with him like this, merely enjoying the closeness without chasing its completion.

You knead at him gently, mind briefly flitting to the motion of contented cats and finding yourself feeling much the same - until Viktor emits a tiny moan, hips giving an even tinier jerk in your hold.

You pause, eyeing his tense profile, but he stares forward resolutely and takes a deep breath, composing himself in the lull of your movement.

Despite your best efforts, he’s still trying to focus on his work and ignore how you’ve been playing with him for the past half hour. You have to admire the stubbornness. He never was one to back away from a challenge.

You lean in, breath washing hot over the curve of his shoulder. This close, he can’t hide the shiver it elicits. Grinning, you press your teeth hard into his skin.

With a curse, Viktor drops his pen.

“Distracted?” you hum, peering at him expectantly.

For a moment, Viktor is quiet, staring at the pen on the floor.

“I want to come,” he confesses, voice barely stronger than a whisper. His hand raises an inch from the desk, perhaps to reach for the writing instrument. You smile when he reaches down for his cock, instead.

“Sure, you can come,” you breezily confirm, “but I’ll keep going after you do.”

His hand falters, squeezing nervously at the base of his dick. You shift your fingers to rub your thumb against his hand, while still teasing at his balls.

“You have to keep me entertained, remember? That was the deal. You’re the one who claimed you could ‘multitask’.”

Viktor swallows, uncertain.

You lean in for the kill. “I’ll finish you with my mouth, if you can hold out, darling.”

Gingerly, he pulls his hand from his cock to retrieve his pen.

“I… can multitask,” he breathes, voice gaining confidence with each word, determinedly putting pen to paper once more.

You smile smugly against his neck, and give him a small squeeze.

—

The lantern oil has grown low when Viktor sets his pen down again.

“I’m finished.”

“Oh?” you prompt, peering down at his erection. Viktor gasps when you flirt the pads of your fingers against the head of his cock, red and neglected. Though you brush over his skin just barely, you come away sticky. “You don’t look finished to me.”

“The- The paper, the report summary,” Viktor huffs, “It’s finished. I did what you asked.”

“Oh, that.” You feign surprise. “Show me?”

Viktor obediently hands it over, a bit rushed, hands shaky. Frankly, you’re not actually worried about the quality of his work. He’s obstinate enough to produce good quality, even while being fondled mercilessly.

Still, it does please you to see that his report looks brilliant, as expected.

“Very good,” you purr, abruptly pulling Viktor with you to stand.

He doesn’t question as you deposit him on the floor, laying on your back before patting your chest in invitation. With a flush growing atop his cheekbones, Viktor scoots closer so you can sling one of his legs over you, pulling him to rest just above your chin.

“I suppose you’re hoping for your reward, then?” His thighs tremble just barely as your lips brush against his balls with each word. Face red, he offers you an eager nod.

You barely have to purse your lips in displeasure before he’s verbally confirming, “Yes, yes, I - please, I want your mouth.”

His hips jerk when you stick out your tongue, laving along his skin without any further teasing. Slowly trailing up, you lick a line directly up the underside of his cock, sucking a kiss to the tip before you head back down.

The skin of his balls is soft against your lips, plush, and you hum, nuzzling in closer to lap at his seam.

You trace swirling patterns into the sensitive skin, trailing adoringly over the curvature, and Viktor’s hips begin to rock against you as he releases a shuddering exhale, relieved at the stronger stimulus after such prolonged teasing. Your hand comes up to rest at the small of his back for support, thumb rubbing gently at the lower edge of his brace, encouraging him even closer to roll his hips against you and chase his pleasure.

Pressing your face deeper, nose nudging at his balls, you sweep your tongue further to slide against his perineum, slicking the sensitive skin. His hips falter in their rhythm, a needy noise of surprise slipping through his lips.

Viktor’s hand reaches for his cock, wrapping around the base and dragging a tight stroke up, squeezing at the head indulgently. His hips kickstart back into motion at the stimulation, working himself between his hand and your mouth.

Listening to him pant, you draw back, kissing delicately over his balls before focusing your mouth on his inner thigh instead. You suck sweetly at the skin for a moment, then work it with your teeth, drawing up a bruise.

Viktor’s unoccupied hand shoots down, hissing at the sting, fingers threading through your hair. He doesn’t stop you as you bite another bruise, fingers curling and uncurling against your roots, and you can feel his cock twitch at your gentle sucking of the abused skin. A string of precome drools out from his tip, landing on your forehead, and Viktor hastily wipes it off with his thumb, muttering an apology.

You’re quick to grab his hand, tilting up so you can lap the stickiness from his thumb, carefully watching his reaction.

His eyes blow wide, staring open mouthed at your lips. Precome is already welling up again, so you crane to suck it off, swirling your tongue against his frenulum to catch it all before trailing your tongue back down.

Viktor’s already begun jerking himself again, movement desperate, and his knuckles bump against your nose as you press a kiss to his balls.

“Keep going,” you usher before he can apologize again. “I want to see you come, sweetheart, I want you to feel good.”

You gently suckle one of his balls into your mouth. Viktor cries out, eyes clenching shut and head thrown back, the combined stimulation and your words almost too much. You stare appreciatively at the mussed locks of hair pooling at the base of his neck, framing the long, alluring line of his throat. Watching him swallow, breath coming sharp.

“I- I am close, so close,” he pants, looking down at you with hazy eyes. His lips are reddened from where he’s been biting at them.

“Go on.” You don’t want to deny him his pleasure any further - you’d teased him more than enough today. “Show me.”

His fingers grow frantic on his length, whining as you continue to press sucking kisses against him while he squeezes at the tip and rocks into his own grip. Though hazy, his eyes are focused solely on you, watching overwhelmed as you slide your tongue out to cup his balls.

You can feel them draw up tight against your tongue, Viktor letting out a ragged groan of relief as he begins to come, fingers tightening in your hair. His release lands heavily across your face, ropes of white dripping down in tangible proof of his enjoyment as he continues to rub himself, dragging out the pleasure past the point of comfort.

He finally lets out a sensitive hiss and pulls his fingers from his length, surveying his work. His eyes catch on the line of come streaked across your cheek, framing where you gaze back at him in smug satisfaction, the cat that got the cream.

With a shaking hand, Viktor swipes at the mess with his first two fingers, gingerly pressing them to your bottom lip in offering.

His eyes are dark when you open your mouth, greeting his fingers with your tongue. He’s pressing deeper immediately, splaying them out to let you savor his taste, leaving you sighing in pleasure. The pads of his fingers rub against you, pressed so closely that you could memorize the texture of his fingerprints dragging over sensitive muscle, spreading come. You swirl your tongue around them to clean him up, flicking it between each finger, rubbing against the webbing all the way at their base.

Viktor gives a few gentle circles of his wrist, losing himself in the silky feel of your tongue. You swallow as his index finger slides deep, fighting not to choke, happy to let him plot out your mouth to his heart’s content.

His breath hitches at the feeling of your throat spasming around the tips of his fingers, spent cock drooling one final pearl of white in response, and he outright whines when you pull away from his fingers to suck the drip off.

Viktor’s hips buck, oversensitized, when you circle your tongue indulgently around the head to clean him up. His fingers tighten in your hair when you stick your tongue out to proudly display the come you’d gathered, eyes crinkling with glee as Viktor bursts into motion, clumsily scooting back on come-drunk limbs.

His hips align with yours, softening cock tucking snugly between you as he licks his way needily into your mouth. Viktor moans lowly at the taste of himself seeping through yours, tongue twining with your own. The kiss lingers until stars bloom behind your eyelids, breathless, Viktor taking care to lap every ounce of himself from your mouth.

When he pulls away, Viktor does it slowly, eyes glossed over with pleasure and tongue poking out just the tiniest bit over the swell of his lower lip. His eyes flick over where the rest of his come adorns your face, lazily tilting his head to drag his tongue over the length of your cheekbone, chasing his own residue to gather on his tongue.

He cleans you up like that, lapping at his own release just to feed it right back to you, groaning into the kiss as you work your tongue against his.

When you’re both panting, lips slick and sensitive, you pull back enough to sit up, dragging him with you, cradled to your chest. He’s stunning like this, flushed and sweat slick and spent, hair sticking up at odd angles. You press a final chaste kiss against his lips.

Viktor’s a bit wobbly when you back off to let him catch his breath, dazedly looking you over as well. “I… Some of it landed in your hair.” He has the decency to look guilty about it, grimacing a bit abashedly.

You pat gently at his trembling thighs. “It’s alright. I already know you’ll help me wash it out.”

#oh to use Viktor as my personal squishy toy...#i am wistful </3 #mdni #viktor #viktor arcane #viktor x reader #my work #the balls would not leave me alone #but now I have time to work on some other wips!#like the longer Viktor oneshot I'm cooking up #and the Jayce pegging drabble lol

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