part two of STORMY NIGHT but can be read as a stand alone
part 1 here | Joel’s Masterlist here
Summary: Joel’s mind is full of doubts after you two slept together for the first time, but you remind him of how much you want him in a heated phone call.
WC: 3.3k
Tags/Warnings: smut, minors DNI, dirty talk, age gap, phone sex, masturbation, joel feels insecure about his age, reader babysits sarah.
You’ve continued your life with normality, babysitting Sarah like you’ve been doing for the last six months.
Joel hadn’t touched you since that night a week ago in his kitchen. He hadn’t talked about it either. You didn’t insist. You wouldn’t even know what to say.
The silence screamed every time you looked at each other too long. It sat between you like a ghost, whispering reminders of the way his body had crushed yours into the counter, the way you’d gasped his name like a prayer.
But things had shifted—subtle, unmistakable. The air between you buzzed differently now, thick with something unspoken and restless. The way his eyes lingered on you when he came home and found you curled up on the couch. Like he was memorizing the shape of you. Like he was fighting the urge to touch. The way his fingers brushed yours a little too long when he handed over your pay. That fleeting contact burned like a brand.
He was more talkative too. He’d open up more often than before, telling you about his day—grumbling about busted tools, long hours, or the price of gas. His voice would soften when he talked to you, his words less guarded, like he forgot to keep the walls up. Sometimes, he’d even eat dinner with you before you left.
But he still hadn’t touched you. And it was killing you.
Because you remembered. Every second. The feel of his rough hands trailing over your skin, claiming every inch of you. The way his palms had held you like something precious, like he didn’t want to let go. The way he moved inside you, how his body fit against yours like you were made for him.
You still heard your own moans echoing in your head when you closed your eyes. Still felt the ghost of his weight pinning you to the kitchen counter, still ached from the way he took his time. You tried to recreate it, night after night, fingers buried deep between your legs—but it never came close.
It wasn’t Joel.
One evening, you were with Sarah, both of you sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, working on her science fair project—a little volcano that had already claimed half the carpet with glitter glue.
You first heard the rumble of the truck engine, then headlights sweeping across the living room wall.
Moments later, the front door clicked open and Joel stepped inside. He looked wrecked. Hair tousled. Shirt clinging to the sweat on his chest. Dust streaked across his jeans.
But his eyes—those warm, grey eyes—they looked like he’d barely slept, but yet they landed on you, and they didn’t leave. Heat coiled in your belly, sharp and familiar
“Dad!” Sarah shouted, springing up to wrap her arms around him. “Look at the volcano we’re making!”
Joel smiled, tired but real. “Goddamn, that looks amazin’, sunshine,” he said, voice full of that proud dad tone.
Sarah beamed, pulling him down to show him all the little details, explaining exactly how you two had made it and how the lava would erupt.
You watched Joel watching her, and something twisted in your chest. He looked at her like she was his whole world. That softness—the gentleness in his voice, the way he crouched next to her with such care—it made your heart ache.
Eventually, a little yawn slipped out of Sarah.
“Alright, kiddo. Time for bed,” Joel said, playfully squeezing her arm before leaning in to kiss the top of her head.
For once, Sarah didn’t protest. Didn’t beg for another episode of her favorite show. She just mumbled a sleepy “Goodnight, you two. Love ya,” and trudged upstairs.
“Sweet dreams, sunshine,” he called softly.
And then it was just the two of you.
The silence was immediate. Charged. Heavy with the words neither of you had dared speak.
“You alright?” Joel asked, voice low and rough.
You nodded. “Yeah.”
He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck with a slow, tired motion—like the weight of the world sat there. “I mean… well—” His words faltered, caught in something unspoken. “You been okay since… that night?”
There it was. The question hanging in the air, the elephant you both had danced around. He was addressing what had happened between you two.
You lifted your eyes to meet his—searching, honest. “Yeah. You?”
He swallowed hard. “Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I shoulda stopped. Shoulda been the adult.” He let out a humorless breath. “Hell, I am the adult.”
“I am an adult too, Joel,” you said quietly. “And you didn’t make me uncomfortable.” Your voice was steady, but your chest was tight with everything you wanted to say and couldn’t.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I don’t wanna screw this up. You’re… you’re important. To Sarah. To me.”
The way he said it—quiet, unsure, like it hurt to speak—made your chest tighten. You wanted to take that weight from him, to make him believe he wasn’t doing anything wrong just by feeling.
Your heart pounded. It thudded so loud in your chest you wondered if he could hear it. “Who said anything about screwing things up? You’re not screwing up anything.”
Joel exhaled slowly, like he was trying to breathe out the tension in his chest. “I been sleepin’ on the couch every night. Can’t even look at my bed without seein’ you in it. Smellin’ you. Even after changin’ the damn sheets.”
“I don’t want you to pretend nothing happened,” you whispered. The words cracked as they left your lips. Your hands trembled slightly, clenched into fists in your lap.
“I’ve been tryin’ not to think about it,” he said. “But I can’t. I walk around half-hard every time you’re near. I don’t know how to act. Don’t know what to say.”
“Joel—”
“I don’t get it,” he muttered. “You’re young. Hot. You could have any guy you wanted. Why the hell would ya want me? I’m old. Rusty. Can’t even get through a day without my back crackin’ in three places. Probably forgot half the shit I used to know.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you said, almost laughing. “Joel, we had a great time the other night, it was probably the best night of my life. You’re overthinking it. Don’t do that.”
“You don’t get it… I—” He shook his head, covering his face for a moment. His shoulders hunched forward like the weight of his doubts was too much to carry. “I need time to process this, yeah? Gimme time to think, I don’t wanna ruin it.”
You nodded softly. You weren’t going to push, there was no use in that. That would only make him retreat.
If he needed time, then you’d give it to him. Even if it hurt.
You grabbed your bag quietly, your fingers lingering on the strap a moment before you murmured a soft goodbye. Stepping out into the night, the cold air hit your skin like a shock—but it was a relief, somehow. You let the door click shut behind you and took a deep breath, knowing this was far from over.
Joel had been tossing and turning for forty minutes, nowhere near sleep.
Your conversation kept replaying in his mind on a torturous loop. Your voice, soft and sure, kept echoing in his ears—“You didn’t make me uncomfortable.” And it only made the ache in his chest deepen.
He cursed himself—quietly, sharply—for getting tangled in this whole mess.
Was it wrong? Maybe.
Sure, you were over a decade younger. But you were an adult. You wanted him, he’d never pushed you or forced you into anything. And It wasn’t like he was a pervert chasing every younger girl who walked by, it was only you that he liked.
And that terrified him.
What if this was just a phase for you? Just a fun, wild story to tell later, he pictured you laughing later with your friends telling them about— “That time I hooked up with the hot single dad I worked for.”
You were just a girl in her college years, trying to experiment, testing boundaries. Joel knew that world well—hell, he remembered exactly what it was like when he was your age: reckless, hungry for anything new, chasing moments that burned bright but didn’t last.
Joel wasn’t stupid. You’d get bored real soon, grow out of this. Move on and go for someone your age. Someone who didn’t wake up sore from bending the wrong way. Someone who didn’t carry the weight of a lifetime of mistakes.
Someone with a future who could provide something more than a mortgage and a busted back. Someone to have your own family with, not having to take care of someone else’s daughter. Not bound to a man still trying to figure out how to be enough—for himself, for Sarah… for you.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, curling into himself.
Your phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Joel’s name lit up your screen, and your breath caught in your throat.
You scrambled to grab it, heart thudding, fingers fumbling just a little like your body already knew it was him.
You answered quickly. “Hey. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, sorry for callin’ so late,” Joel said, his voice low and scratchy. It was that deep, half-broken tone, like he hadn’t spoken in hours. Like he’d been lying in bed thinking about you just as hard as you’d been thinking about him.
You could hear the exhaustion in him. And something else. Something heavier. Something low and aching, wrapped in need.
“I just needed to hear your voice. That okay?”
“Of course,” you said softly. “It’s good to hear yours too.”
“What’re you doin’?”
“I’m in bed.” You said, shifting under the blanket instinctively, suddenly hyper-aware of the heat pooling between your thighs, the empty ache. The place between your legs throbbed sensitive and wanting.
You heard his breath hitch—just a subtle catch, but it made your skin prickle. Your nipples tightened beneath the fabric of your shirt. Your thighs pressed together on their own. One little sound from him and your whole body was already unraveling.
“Me too,” he whispered.
“I miss you,” you confessed. “So bad it hurts. I wish you were here. I wish your hands wer—”
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, voice breaking. “You know you’re killin’ me right now, right?”
You smiled, cheeks heating.
Your thighs pressed together under the covers, trying to soothe the throb you felt blooming low in your belly.
Silence stretched between you, humming with tension. The kind of silence that pulsed with need, with wanting, with everything you both weren’t saying but felt too deeply to ignore.
Then Joel’s voice came back, low and thick. Like honey and gravel, dragging across your nerves.
“You touchin’ yourself, babygirl?”
You swallowed, heart hammering.
“Not yet.” Your voice came out breathy, almost trembling with anticipation. Your fingers twitched, already itching to move.
Joel let out a low groan—the kind that made your toes curl. You could hear the frustration in it, the hunger.
“Can I hear ya? Please. Lemme listen.”
Your breath caught. “Yes.”
“Good girl,” he rasped, voice like silk.
Your whole body shivered at the praise. You slid your hand beneath your oversized T-shirt, the fabric brushing over your hardened nipples. Your skin felt electric, too hot.
You trailed your fingers slowly down your stomach, dipping beneath the waistband of your panties until you found your slick folds. You were drenched. The heat between your legs was almost unbearable, your pussy aching, begging.
God, you were soaked. Swollen. Your body already reaching for something it knew only he could give.
“Tell me what you’re doin’,” Joel murmured. “Wanna picture it.”
“I’m… touching myself,” you whispered, lips parting as you circled your clit, just small circles around that bundle of nerves. A soft moan spilled from you, your hips already lifting slightly, chasing the sensation.
Joel’s breath hitched again. “You wet for me, baby?”
“So wet,” you gasped. “I’m dripping.”
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Wanna spread you open. Eat you out. Make you cum on my tongue.”
You whimpered, your fingers teasing just enough to build the pressure. Your hips rolled instinctively, chasing more. You imagined the scratch of his beard against your thighs, the heat of his mouth, the way he’d groan against you like he was starving.
“Joel,” you moaned. “I wish it was you…”
“I know, baby. Think bout my mouth on you,” he said, voice rough. “Think bout my cock inside you. Stretchin’ you out. Fillin’ that pretty pussy up.”
You sucked in a sharp breath and pushed two fingers inside your tight entrance, your walls clenching around the intrusion. It wasn’t enough. Not even close. You needed him. The weight of him. The stretch. The depth.
You let out a cry, hips arching off the mattress.
“That’s it, babygirl. Touch yourself f’me. Make yourself cum.”
“Joel…fuck,” you gasped. “My fingers… they’re not enough. I want your cock. It’s so big—I need it.”
You heard the faint rustle on the line, Joel groaning as he fumbled with his belt. You could picture it so clearly—legs spread wide, back against his sheets, his strong hand wrapped around himself, around his thick, throbbing cock, desperate and slick, stroking to the sound of your voice.
Then you heard the wet sound of him spitting on his hand.
“Shit—I’m gonna give it to you next time I see you. Gonna give you my cock. It’s all yours.” You could hear the rhythmic creamy sound on the background. Wet and steady. Fucking obscene. It made your walls flutter again, clenching around nothing.
You moaned, waves of pleasure crushing over you as you pumped your fingers, knuckles deep, in and out of you, fucking yourself harder, the slick sound of your fingers echoing in the quiet room, your breath coming in gasps.
“Put the phone closer, baby… lemme hear how you fuck yourself,” he said, voice thick with breath, gravel dragging at every word.
There was hunger in it. A rawness that made your toes curl. Like he was starving for every part of you—even just the sounds.
You obeyed, lips parted, breath catching as you shifted the phone lower. Your hand trembled slightly as you moved it, angling the speaker toward the slick heat between your thighs. The wet sounds of your fingers working through your folds filled the receiver—slow, messy, obscene.
You heard him groan on the other end. Sharp. Desperate.
“Wish I was there,” he muttered. His breath hitch, the sound of him losing control. “Wanna bury myself in that sweet little cunt. Fuck you slow. Make it last all night. Give you every fuckin’ inch.”
You moaned his name with a broken sob of pleasure, thighs trembling, back arched as your fingers fucked into your drenched heat.
“Joel…fuck—” your voice cracked, wrecked with want. “Nobody’s ever touched me like you… nobody’s ever fucked me like you do.”
His breath came through the line sharp and ragged, almost pained.
“I know, baby…” he groaned, voice thick with pride and hunger. “You were insatiable. Wasn’t enough to fuck you in the kitchen, was it? No— you wanted my cock when I took you to bed too, again and again.”
Your body jolted with the memory. The way he had fucked you over the counter, so hard you nearly screamed. And then the multiple rounds that followed after you two went to bed, allegedly to sleep.
He had picked you up, carried you to his bed like you weighed nothing, and then mounted you like a man starved. He hadn’t just fucked you. He owned you that night.
“I kept beggin’,” you breathed. “Told you I couldn’t take another round but I still opened my legs for you.”
Joel groaned like he was in pain. “God, I remember. You said you couldn’t, but your pussy was still so fuckin’ hungry. Grippin’ me tight, milkin’ every drop I gave you. You took it so well f’me.”
“You came inside me so many times,” you whispered. “It was leaking out of me all night.”
“Shit— I remember when you were lyin’ on your stomach, ass all red from how hard I’d fucked you. Still twitchin’. Could barely breathe. You kept beggin’ me not to stop.”
“Tell me what you’re doing now” you begged, breathless.
“Got my fist ‘round my cock,” he said, voice breaking a little on a breath. “Squeezin’ tight. Thumb right over the tip. It’s—fuck—it’s leakin’, baby. Been hard since I called.”
You whined at that, pressing your fingers deeper, hips arching up. The ache inside you swelling like it knew his voice could reach all the way in.
“Wish it was your mouth,” he groaned. “Wish I could fuck into that pretty throat, hear you gag on it like a good girl.”
He groaned again, louder this time. The rhythm of his stroking matched the slick, wet sounds coming from your end of the line.
“I’m close… Joel, I’m so close—” your voice broke as your muscles tensed, your body strung tight like a bow, curling your fingers just right to hit your g-spot.
“I’m right behind you, baby… cum with me. Wanna hear you lose it.”
You cried out, pleasure crashing through you like a wave.
Your thighs trembled violently, your back arched, and you clenched down hard around your fingers. You came with a broken sob, his name falling from your lips like a spell.
You heard him gasp, and then his breath hitched a ragged, broken sound as he came. Hard. There was a wet, rhythmic slap and a final low growl from deep in his chest as he spilled into his hand, breathing heavy, almost panting.
You could picture him now—spread out, chest rising, hand still loosely around his softening cock, skin flushed, hair damp at his temples, thick ropes of cum coating his stomach.
“That’s my girl… fuck, you sound so goddamn good when you cum,” he said, still breathless. “Shit… made a mess on the sheets.”
“Was it worth the mess?” you murmured, breathless.
Joel let out a lazy chuckle. “Darlin’… you have no idea how much it was worth it.”
“Don’t change the sheets,” you said between gasps, still catching your breath. “I want to see it tomorrow.”
He chuckled, deep and low. “You wanna see my dry cum on the sheets?”
“I want the proof of how bad you wanted me.”
“Jesus… you’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispered, voice reverent.
“Just so you know, I’m not going anywhere, Joel. No matter how much you try to push me away.”
“Don’t say that shit unless you mean it,” he said, voice low, but vulnerable. “Not if this is just somethin’ you’re gonna grow out of.”
“I meant it, Joel,” you whispered. “I still mean it.”
“I just… I don’t get why. Why me? I’m not—”
“How can you not see it?” you said with a soft laugh, still glowing from the high. “Joel, the other night you made me cum so much I felt like I was gonna pass out. I’ve never been with a guy who could make me cum, and you do it just by talking to me. That’s how much I want you. How can you not understand?”
“I just worry… one day this won’t be enough. You’ll get bored once the thrill’s gone, that you’ll wake up and realize you should’ve been with someone younger. Someone who can give you a clean slate, not a man with a teenage daughter and a bad back.”
“I promise you, Joel, I’m not in this for the thrill,” you said gently. “You and Sarah… you both matter too much. I wouldn’t mess with that.”
Joel let out a shaky breath. “How can ya be so fuckin’ perfect and still want an old man like me?”
“Well, the old man has some serious skills.” You said, hearing his chuckle on the other side of the line.
“I just— Christ, I’m like fifteen years older than you. My back cracks every time I bend down to tie my boots. I make old man noises gettin’ outta bed. I got a mortgage, a busted knee, and a daughter who depends on me. I don’t exactly scream eligible bachelor, darlin’.”
“Joel, listen,” you tried to say.
“I just don’t get it,” he muttered, quieter now. “You’re smart. Young. Fuckin’ gorgeous. You’ve got a future. Hell, I probably already lived through the best parts of mine.” He let out a bitter little huff. “What happens when you want marriage? Kids? I can’t start over again. I—I don’t know if I have that in me.”
“You’re not just some older guy to me. You’re Joel. The way you see me, the way you listen… that means more than anything else.”
He chuckled, shaky but real. “Damn, you’re good at this. Makin’ a man feel wanted when he’s been feelin’ invisible for so long.”
“Do you believe me then?” you asked. “That I want you? That I mean it?”
“I do,” he whispered, soft as a secret. “I wish I could be there right now,” he murmured. “Just to hold you. Just to—fuck—I don’t even know. Fall asleep next to you. Wake up with your leg thrown over me. Make you coffee in the mornin’.”
A beat passed. Then: “I know I’m older, baby. I know there’s things you’ll want one day that I probably can’t give. But I swear to God… if you let me keep you, I’ll try to do my best. I’ll damn well try.”
You smiled, curling into your pillow, heart full.
Your body still tingled, warm and sated, but it was his voice in your ear that soothed you. That made everything feel right.
Joel stayed on the line, breathing steady in your ear, until sleep took you both— the connection crackling softly, his breathing a steady comfort in your ear like a silent promise.
A/N: Thank you so much for all the support on the first part. It made me so happy to see how much you enjoyed it, I hope you liked this part as much🫶🏻🩷
Hii! Love your fics! For a request, maybe being friends/coworkers smth like that, but fans keep making edits and theories abt you two dating or being in love or something? Honestly, idk if I want it to be more fluff with a soft love confession or some hurt/comfort where one of them denies it (unknowingly hurting the other one) and with a dramatic love confession - it's up to you to decide cause I literally can't choose.
No rush! You can absolutely write it whenever or not write it at all!❤️💐
I gotchuuu <3 thank you for your suggestion !
Canon now, actually
Bbno$ (Alex Gumuchian) x reader
Female reader, slight angst and fluff at the end, friends to lovers
A/n: I’ve been getting a lot of requests for a friends to lovers fic so here’s my version of it! I’ll probably write another one with more angst and slow burn but please enjoy this one for now and I have more fics coming out soon <3
You had always been there — before the world knew his name, before the streams and sold-out shows and absurd viral TikToks. You were there when he was still in his “let’s see if this music thing works” phase, helping him with shoots, hyping up his worst freestyles, laughing at his chaotic sleep schedule and even more chaotic outfits.
You knew him as Alex, not bbno$. He was just your best friend. At least, that’s what you tried to remind yourself.
But somewhere between late-night FaceTimes and stolen glances during studio sessions, something shifted. He’d show up with your favorite coffee without asking. He remembered every inside joke from years ago. He called you when anything remotely funny happened because, “It’s only funny if I tell you.”
And then the internet noticed
---
It started small — a comment on a TikTok:
- “Are they together or is it just me?”
Then came the edits. Little montages of Instagram stories, him looking at you mid-laugh, hand brushing yours, casual flirty banter. His fans were convinced you were a secret couple.
- “He’s so in love and it’s obvious.”
- “The way he looks at her? That’s not platonic.”
- “She’s his muse. I’m calling it.”
You couldn’t lie — it made your heart race. Even if it wasn’t real, it felt real. The way his hand lingered on your back. The way he called you “dude” and “babe” in the same breath. The way he talked to everyone, but really only looked at you.
But then came that stream.
You weren’t even watching live. A friend sent you the clip with a laughing emoji and a “rip the shippers.”
You clicked.
There he was — in his usual streaming setup, hair messy, glasses slipping down his nose, sipping from that enormous bottle of water he never left without.
A fan asked in the chat:
- “yo be honest. are you and y/n dating?”
Alex read it out loud, grinned, and shook his head.
“What? No way,” he said, laughing. “We’re not dating. She’s just my best friend. Chill, y’all.”
He moved on like it was nothing.
But it wasn’t nothing. Not to you.
You sat with that clip playing in your head on repeat. The way he said “no way.” Like it was ridiculous. Like it had never even crossed his mind.
Maybe it hadn’t.
---
After that, you stopped texting as much.
Not because you were mad — but because it hurt. Because you realized maybe you were reading too much into everything. Maybe you had built something in your head that didn’t exist in his.
You needed to let it go. So you tried.
You answered slower. Called less. Didn’t stay on FaceTime with him until 2 a.m. talking about everything and nothing. You told yourself it was healthy. That you were creating boundaries. That he wouldn’t even notice.
Except… he did.
---
It was a week and a half before he showed up at your place, completely unannounced, hoodie up, hair messy, and that look in his eyes like he’d been pacing around the city just to figure out what to say.
You opened the door in surprise. “Alex?”
“Okay,” he said, breathless. “What the hell is going on?”
You blinked. “What?”
“You’ve been weird. Like—like ghosting me weird. You barely text. You don’t call. You didn’t even like the pic I posted yesterday. It was me with a cat, dude. You love cats.”
You crossed your arms. “Maybe I’ve been busy.”
“No, see—no. That’s my excuse,” he said, stepping inside. “You’re never too busy for me unless something’s wrong.”
You looked away, trying to keep your composure. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Then why does it feel like I lost my best friend without warning?”
Your throat tightened. “Because maybe you did.”
He froze. “What?”
You finally looked at him — really looked at him. And it all came out.
“You said ‘no way’ like it was insane,” you whispered. “Like the idea of dating me was laughable. And yeah, I know we’re not dating. I know we’re just friends. But hearing you say it like that… it just made me feel stupid. For thinking this was ever something more.”
Alex looked like he’d been hit by a train.
“Wait—wait. You felt something too?”
You hesitated. “I thought I was imagining it.”
“Oh my God,” he said under his breath, running a hand down his face. “I’m so dumb.”
“You’re not dumb. You were honest. And I needed to hear it. That’s why I backed off — because I needed to stop hoping.”
“No,” he said, voice suddenly shaking. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to disappear because I said something dumb on stream. I thought I was protecting us. I didn’t know you— I didn’t know you felt it too.”
He took a shaky breath, eyes meeting yours.
“I love you, [Y/N]. Like, not in the ‘haha you’re my bestie’ way. I love you in the ‘I can’t go a day without thinking about you’ way. In the ‘you’re the only person who makes the noise in my head quiet’ way. In the ‘I see those edits and want them to be real’ way.”
Your heart was racing.
“I love the way you talk about things you’re passionate about. I love your stupid playlists. I love how you take care of people without even realizing it. I love you,” he finished, voice soft but certain.
You stood frozen in place, tears in your eyes.
“And I didn’t say it on stream because I didn’t think I deserved to say it out loud. I was scared. But losing you — even just a little — that scared me more.”
You stepped toward him slowly. “You mean it?”
“I’ve never meant anything more.”
He opened his arms like a silent question.
You didn’t answer with words — just stepped into him, wrapped your arms around his hoodie-clad torso, and held on like your heart had finally come home.
He kissed your forehead first. Then your cheek. Then, finally, your lips — slow and careful and full of everything he hadn’t known how to say until now.
And when you pulled away, forehead resting against his, he smiled.
“So… can I say it on stream now?”
You laughed, and in that moment — in his arms, with the weight of everything lifted — you knew:
warnings. MDNI SMUT (18+), reader wearing lingerie, riding, praising, unprotected sex, blowjob, creampie, viktor being obsessed with hearing the bell you are wearing, soft sex, bondage (m. receiving), breeding, begging and whining, aftercare at the end
requested by anon (combined the christmas and the riding viktor requests)
a/n. got lazy at the end :(
The workshop was unusually quiet for the evening, a rare stillness settling over the room. The only sounds were the faint hum of machines idling in the background and the soft creak of Viktor’s cane as he approached the workbench. You could hear his measured steps echoing off the walls, the rhythm unhurried, likely lost in some grand idea. You smiled to yourself, anticipation bubbling as you sat in his chair, carefully positioning yourself for the reveal.
The lingerie you wore was festive yet bold, a delicate mix of red and green fabric that hugged your curves. A small, golden bow sat perfectly in the center of your sternum, just above a jingling bell that chimed softly with every shift of your body. You felt equal parts daring and nervous, unsure how Viktor might react to such an unconventional “gift.” But you knew him, beneath his composed exterior lay a man brimming with emotions he often kept restrained. Tonight, you intended to bring those emotions to the surface.
Viktor called your name, his voice carrying an affectionate cadence as it bounced through the workshop. “Are you here? I thought we agreed to meet for dinner, not…hide in my workshop.” His words were laced with amusement, though there was an edge of curiosity.
You waited until you heard the soft click of the door closing behind him before turning the chair around slowly. His amber eyes widened at the sight of you, his steps faltering as though he had forgotten how to walk. For a moment, he simply stared, his mouth parting slightly before snapping shut. His fingers gripped the handle of his cane tightly, and you could see the muscles in his jaw flex as he struggled to find words.
“Viktor,” you said softly, your voice laced with playful confidence. “Merry Christmas.”
He took a shaky breath, his eyes roaming over you. It was hesitant at first, as though he were unsure if he was allowed to look, but soon lingering on every detail. The red and green satin, the bow, the golden bell. It all seemed to render him completely speechless. His cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and when he finally managed to speak, his voice was a hushed whisper.
“Y-you look stunning,” he stammered, his accent thick, each word tinged with awe. “I did not expect this. You are…my present?”
You nodded, your lips curving into a teasing smile. “Do you like it?”
His steps were hesitant as he moved closer, his cane tapping lightly against the floor. When he reached the chair, he leaned down, his hands gripping the armrests tightly, knuckles white with the effort it took not to touch you. His breath was warm against your face, and his amber eyes, usually so focused and calculating, now shimmered with a mix of love and unspoken need.
“You are beautiful,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. His gaze flickered to the golden bell resting against your sternum. A small, almost mischievous smile played at the corners of his lips as he reached out, his fingers brushing the bell lightly. The soft chime it produced sent a shiver down your spine, and Viktor’s eyes darkened at the sound. “Thought of everything,” he said, his tone warm yet trembling slightly. “Even this small detail…too much for me, my love.”
You reached up, your fingers curling around the edges of his vest and tugging him closer. His body stiffened for a moment before he gave in, leaning closer until your noses were nearly touching. His gaze flickered to your lips, then back to your eyes, his internal battle written all over his face.
“Are you just going to stand there and admire me, or are you going to do something about it?” you teased, your voice a soft purr as your fingers trailed down from his shoulders to his chest. Lowering down to his stomach.
Viktor let out a shaky laugh, his lips twitching as though he wanted to smile but couldn’t quite manage it. “Taking my breathe away,” he said, his voice low and filled with a mix of reverence and amusement. “You know this, yes?”
“Of course,” you replied, your eyes locking with his as you leaned back slightly in the chair, giving him a better view of your figure. “Now, are you going to unwrap your present, or should I do it for you?”
Viktor’s breath hitched, and for a moment, he simply stared at you, as though trying to commit every detail to memory. Then, with a determination that sent a thrill through you, he straightened and moved his hands from the armrests to your thighs, his touch was light. His fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns against the satin fabric, his movements reverent.
“My pretty gift,” he said softly, his voice filled with emotion. “Not just tonight, but always. How did I ever deserve you?”
“You don’t have to deserve me, Viktor,” you replied, your voice equally soft as you cupped his face, your thumbs brushing against his cheekbones. “You just have to love me.”
“I do,” he said, his voice firm now, his amber eyes locking with yours. “More than I can ever express.”
You smiled, your heart swelling at his words. You tugged him closer again, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was slow at first but quickly deepened. Viktor’s hands gripped your thighs more firmly, his restraint slipping as he poured every ounce of his love and need into the kiss. The bell at your sternum chimed softly as you shifted, the sound blending with the faint hum of the workshop’s machines. Viktor pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered, “The sound… It is perfect. Just like you.”
Your fingers tangled in his hair, and you smiled against his lips. “Merry Christmas, Viktor,” you murmured.
“And to you, my love,” he replied, his voice full of warmth and promise as he leaned in for another kiss, the workshop fading away as the two of you lost yourselves in each other.
Viktor's breath lingered against your lips as he leaned in again, his hand cupping your jaw delicately. His kiss was featherlight at first, as though he were savoring the taste of you, committing every moment to memory. The softness of his lips, the way his thumb brushed against your cheek. It was achingly tender, his care evident in every movement. Time seemed to stretch as the two of you stayed like that, exchanging gentle kisses that grew slower, deeper, more meaningful with each passing moment.
Viktor's free hand found its way to your shoulder, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of the delicate strap of your lingerie. His other hand remained steady on your jaw, holding you as if you might disappear at any moment. When he finally pulled back, it wasn't far. His forehead rested against yours, and his amber eyes gazed into yours. His breathing was uneven, each exhale mingling with yours as the two of you stayed in this shared bubble of intimacy.
"You are..." he started, his voice hushed but thick with emotion, "you are more than I could have ever dreamed of. Sometimes I wonder if this is all some invention of my mind."
You chuckled softly, your hand rising to brush a strand of hair away from his face. "This is very real," you murmured, your voice filled with affection. "And so am I."
His lips curved into a faint smile, but the look in his eyes was serious, filled with love and awe. He nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping over your face as though he were memorizing every detail. Then, without another word, he leaned in again, this time closing the distance with a kiss that was anything but hesitant. It was as though a dam had broken. His lips moved against yours with a new passion, every kiss filled with a need that had been simmering under the surface. His hand left your shoulder to slide down to your waist, pulling you closer against him. The kiss deepened, his tongue brushing against yours, and a soft hum of pleasure escaped you, which only seemed to spur him on.
Viktor pulled back briefly, just long enough to catch his breath, his eyes darkened with desire as they met yours. "You make it hard to think straight," he murmured, his voice low, almost reverent, sending a thrill through you.
"Isn’t that the point?" you teased, your voice soft but breathless as you pulled him closer, your arms wrapping around his neck. "Seems like I’m doing something right."
His response was a soft laugh, but it quickly dissolved as he dove back into the kiss, this time with even more passion. His hands slid around your waist, holding you firmly yet gently, and with a surprising strength, he lifted you out of the chair. Your body pressed flush against his as his arms wrapped around you, holding you as though you were the most precious thing in the world. You yelped his name, surprised by the sudden action.
He only smiled, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and something deeper. "Sure, full of surprises tonight," he murmured, "but two can play that game."
He turned, carefully sitting back in the chair while positioning you to straddle his lap. The new position made your breath hitch as your knees settled on either side of him, your bodies impossibly close. His hands settled on your waist again, holding you steady as his gaze roamed over you, lingering on the golden bell nestled against your chest.
The corner of his mouth quirked upward, and he reached out to flick the bell lightly again. The soft chime it produced seemed to echo through the workshop, and his eyes flicked back to yours, filled with mischief. "I like this sound," he admitted, his voice a little rough. "I may want to hear it more."
Your cheeks heated at his words, and you couldn't help the small laugh that escaped you. "You'll have to work for that," you teased, your fingers slipping under the edge of his vest, brushing against the soft fabric of his shirt.
Viktor's breath faltered as your hand brushed against him, his fingers tightening around your waist with a quiet intensity. "Everything about you is a temptation," he said softly, his voice laced with both admiration and desire.
You smiled up at him, a hint of playfulness in your eyes. "I think you're just weak for me," you teased, your voice tender and full of warmth.
His only response was another kiss, this one searing in its intensity. Your hands wandered further, slipping under his shirt to trace the lines of his torso. His body tensed slightly under your touch, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he deepened the kiss, his hands sliding up your back and pulling you even closer against him.
The golden bell jingled softly with every movement, a reminder of the festive occasion, but the two of you were far too lost in each other to notice much else. Viktor's lips left yours to trail down your jaw, his kisses soft but deliberate as he moved to your neck. You tilted your head to the side, giving him better access, and a soft sigh escaped you as his lips found a particularly sensitive spot. You whined slightly, your hands tangling in his hair as he continued his care.
"Yes, my love?" he replied, his voice a soft whisper against your skin.
"Keep going, please-" you begged, your voice barely audible but filled with need.
He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your neck. "I had no intention of doing so," he assured you, his lips trailing back up to capture yours again in another passionate kiss.
Viktor’s hands slid down to your waist, gripping you more firmly as he pressed you closer against him. The movement was slow but deliberate, and your body instinctively followed his lead, your hips shifting to meet his. The only thing separating the two of you was the thin layer of fabric you wore.
He smiled faintly, though the intensity in his gaze never wavered. One of his hands trailed upward, brushing against the small of your back before settling there, holding you steady as he encouraged your movements with a subtle shift of his hips. The friction elicited a soft moan from you, and Viktor’s grip tightened slightly in response.
The sound of the golden bell ringing faintly between you only heightened the moment, the delicate chime contrasting with the growing intensity of your shared passion. Viktor’s lips left yours to trail along your jawline, leaving a path of warm, lingering kisses. When he reached the curve of your neck, his lips hovered there for a moment, his breath hot against your skin.
“...so perfect,” he murmured, his voice a mixture of reverence and longing.
Your heart swelled at his words, and you tilted your head to the side, giving him better access. “That's sweet of you to say,” you replied, your voice soft but playful.
Viktor let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against your neck. “Sweet, hmm?” he said, his tone laced with a teasing edge. “You may find I am not so sweet after all.”
“Viktor,” you breathed, your hands gripping his shoulders for support as you leaned closer, your lips brushing against his ear.
His response was a shaky exhale, his head dipping forward to press a kiss to your shoulder. “It is you,” he said softly, his voice rough with emotion. “You make everything, every moment, so much more.”
You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face, your hands moving from his shoulders to cup his face. You guided his gaze back to yours, your thumb brushing lightly against his cheek. Viktor didn’t need to be told twice. His lips found yours again, and the two of you lost yourselves in each other, the rest of the world fading away. The chair creaked softly beneath you, but neither of you paid it any mind. All that mattered was the shared warmth between you, the unspoken promises conveyed in every kiss, every touch, every whispered breath.
His hands began to roam your body, not leaving a single part untouched. You began reaching down to undo the buttons of his trousers, and when you finally undid all of them, Viktor stopped. Looking at you in the eyes with a soft and kind expression. “My love, do you want to continue?
Then you slowly began stroke his cock starting with the tip, your thumb pressing lightly. This earned a ragged groan from him as he leaned his head back against the back of the chair.
“Y-you have… experience in everything don’t you? he whispered against your ear as your hand moved down to the base, pumping him a few times. Now that you actually look at it, it’s longer than what you thought. It has been so long since you found time to do this. He would always be so busy with his inventions, meeting with the council, etc.
Taking his now hard cock into your hand, you hovered over his hips. Your arousal was sticky, the soft layer that separated the two of you, clinging to your body. Then Viktor looped it around his finger, moving it to the side. “Go on,” he whispered his amber eyes looking at your with such love and desire. He took your smaller hand into his, helping you align his cock between your folds. “Let me help you.”
Oh, how you loved the way he looked at you. Maintaining eye contact while intimate always made you blush inside. Viktor began to slide it between your slick folds a few times, collecting the wetness that lingered before setting the thin fabric aside again. He pushed his tip slowly and antagonizing, as the two of you moaned softly. Leaning forward you flushed your chest against his, resting you head of his shoulder. He got ahold of your hips with a firm grip, slipping the palm of his hands towards the bottom of your ass.
He looked at you as he leaned toward you, his head laid on yours. Kissing you temple, as his lips brushed against your ear, reassuringly. “Doing alright, my love?”
You didn’t want to respond. Well, more like you couldn’t the overwhelming pleasure was too much for you so you just nodded in agreement. With that he began to lower you down, his cock slowly filling you up to the hilt. His long length being wrapped tightly by your walls, he wanted to let out a moan. But all that came out was a shaky sigh.
He slowly pulled out and pushed back in, each thrust causing soft, wet squelching sounds as your bodies met. The sound of your skin slapping was a reminder of how deeply he was filling you, every thrust a testament to the care he took in making sure you felt each inch of him. His pace was measured, slow, but intense. He was lost in the way your body responded to him, how tight and warm you were around him.
Every time he thrusted upwards, the golden bell that laid on your chest rang more loudly. It was like it ignited something in his that make his go slower but harder. He wanted to hear that bell ring more. The harder you bounced on his cock, the louder the bell rang. His chair creaked at the hinges from each impact.
Viktor kissed you slowly starting from the edge of your shoulder towards the end of your collarbone. Leaving wet kisses as he traveled up your neck, and finally reaching your jawline. His hand moving up between the valley of your chest. When he reached the precious bell, he flickered it with his fingers. Ding Ding Ding.
You had an idea, very brilliant one. Slowly you lifted yourself up from his hips, his cock falling limp. He looked up at you with curiosity.
He cupped your gently, “Where are you going?” he said softly, that it make your heart flutter even though you were in a compromising position. You didn’t say anything yet, thinking about how you were going to put your idea into words. A few seconds had passed before you could get the courage to ask.
“Where’s the ribbons at?” you asked, looking away shyly, not making eye contact with him.
“The satin ribbons we used for wrapping some of the presents?-” he replied, pondering trying to reach the depths of his mind to see if he can remember where he last placed them, unaware of your intentions.
You nodded yes, as he pointed towards a wooden cabinet near the table the two of you sat by. Walking over, with your legs trembling and weak, you reached the doors opening them with a creak. It was an old cabinet for sure. There were the ribbons, in the center with its pink satin colors slightly glowing with the dim lights. You picked it up and walked towards Viktor who was still siting in his chair, with somewhat of exhaustion lingering in his face.
Trying your best as you maintained eye contact, you lightly tied the ribbons around your chest. Once it was softly secure against your body with a bow finishing it off, you sat on his lap again.
Viktor’s hands, still gentle yet trembling with restraint, hovered over your waist as his lips ghosted over the shell of your ear. The soft golden glow of the workshop lamps illuminated his tousled hair, casting shadows on his face that only deepened the intensity in his eyes. His breaths were shallow, and though his posture remained collected, you could feel the weight of his emotions beneath the surface.
“I… cannot do this to you,” he murmured into your ear, his voice thick. Accent curling around every word like a warm embrace. His eyes darted toward the ribbon tied loosely around your chest, the bell at its center giving a soft chime as you shifted.
You tilted your head, confused by the sudden hesitation. “Why not?” you asked, voice teasing but with curiosity.
Viktor pulled back slightly, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that took your breath away. “Because…” He hesitated, his lips parting as if searching for the right words. “You are no gift to be unwrapped and claimed. You are so much more than that. I cannot bear to treat you as though you are anything less than my equal.”
His confession caught you off guard, your heart squeezing at the sincerity in his tone. There was something achingly vulnerable in the way he spoke, as if the very idea of reducing you to a “present” was an slur to the depth of his feelings for you.
The playful grin on your face softened into something more tender. “Oh-,” you whispered, running your fingers through his hair, your touch gentle. “That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
A flicker of a smile touched his lips, though his blush deepened. “I mean every word,” he said softly, his fingers brushing over the edge of the ribbon with reverence. “But…” His gaze turned quite mischievous, his golden eyes glinting with newfound confidence. “If it must be someone, then tie me up instead.”
Your eyebrows raised at his suggestion, heat rushing to your cheeks. “You?”
“Why not?” His tone was soft, but his words carried a daring edge. “If you are to tease me like this, then it is only fair I surrender myself to your whims. Let me be yours.” The image of Viktor, bound in ribbons and entirely at your mercy, sent a delicious shiver down your spine. You leaned forward, your lips brushing against his in a featherlight kiss before pulling back, your smile playful.
“You’re serious?”
His gaze never wavered. “For you? Of course, I’m always serious.” The boldness in his reply sent warmth flooding through you, and without hesitation, you reached for the loose ribbon on your chest, pulling it free with a gentle tug. It slid from your skin, the bell giving one last soft chime before you wrapped it around your hands.
“Let’s see how you handle being my present,” you slightly teased, looping the ribbon around his arms. Strapping them to the arms rest of the chair. Once you finished tying him up (with the finishing touches being bows on each side), you went on your knees placing you hands on his thighs. Caressing them upwards until it reached his glistening length.
One of your hands eagerly ran from base to shaft, the other resting comfortably on his thigh as your lips eagerly sucked on the tip. Biting your lower lip, you pulled your eyes away just for a second to glance at how evident he was. His length had gained its strength. You just can’t help the smile that breaks over your face. You were staring up at him through your eyelashes as you work your hands and mouth. His breath is shaking, as you go to lick up his length he quickly brings a hand towards your hair to curl into your head.
“Fuck.” he whispered out, so much pleasure building already with the added height of fear of someone walking in at anytime. Bursting through the door, like someone would always do.
Removing yourself briefly you locked eyes with him. “You are sure enjoying yourself, huh?” you let out a small chuckle, lightly scraping your teeth while looking back up at him with am innocent smile.
“S-stop teasing-” he softly stuttered, his hand laced back into your hair pushing you back down on his length.
You pressed your lips against the head of his cock, tongue darting out to taste the precum there. You gave kitten licks, wrapping your hand around the base and giving his length gentle pumps.
You maintained the eye contact, looking up at him while kissing his sensitive skin. Your free hand massaged his leg, up and down his thigh to ease the pain there and earning you another pleased sigh from his lips as his eyes fluttered shut.
He groaned, sagging back into his chair. As you continued, your hand found his, lacing your fingers together to ground himself. He let out soft moans, bucking his hips a bit as he muttered sweet nothings you couldn’t understand.
Taking his tip into your mouth, you began to lap and suck it before pushing yourself further. As you continued, he got louder without hesitation (though it wasn't loud enough it could be heard through the door) and more whinier.
He whined, moaning your name as softly. His muscles tensed as he gripped the arms of the chair, hard enough to make his knuckles go white. His chest moved upwards, voice breaking as he begged you to slow down between more broken begging of your name.
You ignored them, tears beginning to build and spill from your eyes as your own body demanded an end to the constant badgering at the back of your throat. He groaned loudly; your only warning before he was coming, thick, hot streams jetting into your mouth. You whimpered slightly.
His eyes are soft, almost shy. “Let me return the favor,” he says as he lifts up his head to look down at you, his voice low, warm. With careful movements, you stood up from your knees which were slightly red due to the hard floor as you straddled him once again.
You melted into him, feeling safe and loved. “Is there anything you want for Christmas?” Viktor asks, his voice hesitant, as though he’s unsure of what you’ll say.
You think for a moment, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "I want you to be a father," you say quietly, your heart full of warmth as you look into his eyes.
Viktor’s face flushes a deep red, his grip tightening gently around the chairs armrest. He looks at you as if processing your words, his expression both surprised and touched. Slowly, he adjusts you, making sure you’re comfortable as you straddle his lap once more. then you remembered that you hadn't came yet, so its a perfect opportunity.
Sinking down his sensitive length you let out a moan, your hands gripped the bottom of his vest. Viktor began to breath heavily, matching yours perfectly. Burying himself deep inside of you, wanting so badly to pull you into a hug. Sadly, his hands were still restrained. He whined against your lips, "C-can you untie the bows, Please-"
"Sorry Goldie, No can do," you said teasingly with a soft voice, wiggling your finger no towards his face.
He kept hitting the perfect spot, over and over again. It felt amazing. You leaned towards him, hands resting on his chest. Then you laid your head over his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He desperately wanted to hug you back that it was painfully noticeable. How he moved his head, caressing it against your arm. Smelling your scent of vanilla bean and coconut oil as he ran his big slightly curvy nose bumping on your forearm.
“Can you please untie me, my love” he begged once again, his hips bucking against yours delicately. The way he looked at you with the softness in his amber eyes. Oh, you couldn’t resist much. Barely lasting more than 5 minutes having his hands tied up, such a desperate man. Leaning back slightly with his cock still inside of you, you began to untie the bows. Luckily, you didn’t tie them tightly around his wrists so they easily came off in seconds.
Immediately, his hands went straight to your ass again, like earlier. This time however he spread them wider, the pleasure overwhelming his senses unable to fully control his grip on you. As he thrusted upwards, he set a slighter faster but nevertheless harder pace.
Viktor's hand slip up to the small on your back, pulling you towards his chest. All you could do was lay against him as he continued his pace. Occasionally you would bounce on him, nearly pulling out before going back down. But it was very difficult to keep up with him as he desperately tried to find his own release inside of you after a longing of teasing. This would also will be the first time tonight for you. The ringing of the bell intensified with every thrust.
Clutching at his black button-up shirt, now stained with your tears of pleasure and a bit of drool. As you finally started to find your own release, the lewd squelching sounds were present in the room. Moans and soft gasps were all that could be heard from the two of you alongside the whispered of encourage he would speak into your ear.
You’re doing so good.
Taking me so well.
With every second that passed by, the closer your climax was. It was a close call though seconds apart, but you were the first one. Squirting on his cock with some of it dripping down to his pants as it spilled out of you. Then he came inside of you, shooting his load deep inside. Filling you up to the brim, hoping that with this your Christmas wish would come true in the next 9 months.
He caressed your back as he pulled you off him, sitting you back on his lap. Soaked by your arousal, luckily his pants were black.
“Best gift ever.” he simply said as he smiled, looking at your face that rested on his shoulder in exhaustion. Ringing the bell on your chest with his slender fingers, once again.
You sat on his lap, your legs tucked to one side, cradled securely by his strong arm wrapped around your waist. His other hand rested lightly on your thigh, his thumb brushing idle patterns your soft skin. Your head rested against his shoulder, and his faint scent surrounded you into the present. Viktor’s heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, and the rise and fall of his chest matched your own.
"You’re quiet," he murmured, his voice soft and slightly raspy. "Are you alright, my love?"
You tilted your head to look up at him, his amber eyes meeting yours with a mix of concern and adoration. "I’m fine," you whispered, your lips curving into a small smile. "Just...happy."
A rare, genuine smile tugged at Viktor’s lips, and his hand moved to cup your cheek, his fingers gentle and warm. "Good," he said simply, but the weight behind the word spoke volumes.
His eyes studied you, his gaze lingering on the faint flush of your cheeks and the way your lashes fluttered as you looked at him. "You take such good care of me," he continued, his tone tinged with both gratitude and guilt.
His thumb brushed over your cheek, and his expression softened further. Viktor’s hand slid from your cheek to your back, pulling you closer until your foreheads rested together. The warmth of his breath mingled with yours, and you closed your eyes, letting the world outside the lab fade away.
"Stay like this a little longer," he whispered, his voice a gentle plea.
"I’m not going anywhere," you promised, your hand finding its way to his chest, where you felt the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.
His lips brushed your temple in a featherlight kiss, and you felt him relax further beneath you, his body molding against yours as if you were two pieces of the same puzzle. For a man who often carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, you holding him close to your heart, was the best gift you could ask for.
Heyy! I'd like to request Viktor x f!reader, an academic rivals sort of thing. Lots of bickering, teasing and all that. I really love the concept, and I've read every fic I found like this, but I'd love to see it in your style!
So the reader is really frustrated, and they are arguing, lots of tension yk, then she accidentally confesses to liking him/finding him really attractive, so she turns all flustered and tries to deny it, aaand I'll leave the rest to you, maybe it could be smut? With a bit of dom Viktor, hehee
Thank you so much<33
Thank you for your request and patience!!! Loved envisioning Viktor in this 🥴
A/N: i had the woooorst hangover new years day oh my goodness
Characters: Viktor x Fem!Reader
Warnings: rivals to 'lovers', tension, dom!Viktor, teasing, praise (use of good girl), fingering, slight oral (f receiving), maybe a little ooc but I picture Viktor as a teaser
MINORS DNI
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In Piltover's esteemed engineering college, there were always self-proclaimed rivals in academics.
You stand in the entry hall, glaring up at the scoreboard for the most recent exams.
Your name was placed second.
Second to Viktor. An honorary student from the lower streets of Zaun. To be fair- he had clawed his way to where he was now. That much you could respect.
But come on. Really?
You were practically born reading, studying, bleeding engineering. This was your calling.
How was he able to score better than you? There's no way.
The sound of a metallic cane hitting the ground echoes in the hallway before stopping beside you.
You sigh, gritting your teeth.
A low chuckle can be heard,”Nice score,” the voice speaks smoothly, rolling the ‘r’ and looking your way.
You exhale angrily through your nose,”Oh, shut up.”
A mock look of surrender crosses his face as he raises his hands, cane hooked on his forearm as you cast a scathing look his way.
“Hostile, hm?” He smirks at you and you shove down the fester of butterflies swarming your belly.
With a scowl and a scoff, you turn and stalk off.
His pleased snicker can be heard, sending a jolt of anger up your spine.
The annual engineering designs contest was creeping up.
You were practically vibrating from excitement, having finally finished your own project weeks in advance.
In between that time there were seemingly countless exams that you had to cram study sessions in for.
As usual, it was a back and forth with a certain Zaunite for who claimed first place.
Frustration brewed in your belly, festering over time into something more aggressive.
The day of the Engineering contest was a huge success.
You had cleared your mind of all unease and submitted your invention, pleased with the professor's reactions along with your peers.
“Quite impressive, I will admit,” that accented voice sends a chill up your spine, and you turn to see Victor smirking at you and your invention.
”Sarcasm, how delightful,” you scoff.
“Not sarcasm,” he clicks his tongue, moving past you to peer down at your entry,”Interesting design- can’t help but notice its similarities to the early engineering of Piltover creations.”
You tense slightly, surprised,”What of it?”
He shrugs, a playful smirk on his lips,”Have you seen my invention yet?”
You narrow your gaze,”No, I have not-“
He keeps his smirk on his lips as he tilts his head towards where his invention is being admired. By many, you should add.
Even the Dean.
Hot, boiling jealousy brews in your gut.
You ended up storming out of the halls, needing to calm down.
You find solace in one of your favorite classes, Professor Daughtry’s room. Pacing back and forth, you attempt to calm down; looking at chemical compounds written on the chalkboard to formula’s on posters to distract yourself.
You’d worked so hard, going over seemingly countless versions of your invention in hopes to get the Dean’s approval and favor. With your parents breathing down your neck and now this overwhelming pressure to be the best- you couldn’t seem to calm down.
You hear someone approaching the room, door ajar.
“Sorry, can I please be left alone?” You mutter the most respectful way you can.
“This is a common area,” of course, it’s him and his stupid accent.
The hairs on your arm bristle up as you turn to glare at him.
He mockingly raises his hands in surrender, a small smirk on his lips. He walks in, allowing the door to slide closed behind him.
“Viktor- the door!” You yell but it’s too late. The automatic lock can be heard.
Professor Daughtry had it installed when one too many students snuck into his class to fool around.
“You- you imbecile!” You groan, crossing the room to try to pry the door open.
“Wiggling the doorknob isn’t going to unlock it,” he teases.
You whip around to glare, finding him already lounging against one of the tables by the front of the classroom.
“Oh- will you just- just shut up!” You scowl, glaring at him.
“Feisty,” he smirks, raising his hands again in mock surrender,”What did I do to get on your bad side, hm?”
You roll your eyes, huffing in annoyance. Your forehead comes to rest on the door, willing it to unlock.
Of course Professor Daughtry has an automatic lock, you think silently with an eye roll.
“Well?” Viktor hums, sitting against one of the desks.
You scoff,”What haven't you done?”
“Oh? There's more than one?” He smirks and you find annoyance in the butterflies that swarm everywhere inside you.
You narrow your gaze as you look at him fully, taking in his relaxed state.
Curse him to look so good in the Zaun colors. Curse him to have such a gorgeous set of golden brown eyes.
Curse him to be blessed with such a face.
Curse him, Curse him, Curse him.
“I was born to be a top engineer,” you scowl,”And you just come waltzing in being a know it all-”
“Sorry that I too, was born to be an engineer-” he looks bewildered, rolling his eyes.
“Shut up! This is my entire life-”
“It's my entire life, too! What are you going to do- sell off new inventions to the highest bidder?”
You glare at him,”What of it? Profit gets more creations made, all in the name of progress for-”
“For Piltover, right?” He huffs out a sarcastic laugh,”None of it for Zaun?”
You look at him in surprise, eyebrows shot up.
He smirks at you, but it's not the one you've found yourself liking,”Of course not. I am here in the name of Zaun, princess. Everything I do and create is in hopes that Topside will see that Zaun is capable of great things.”
“I never said-”
“You didn't have to, it's written on your face!” He shouts, pointing his cane towards you,”I see the way you glare, your judgement is based solely on the fact that I am from Zaun.”
“I'm not- glaring because of that!” You huff angrily, taking one step closer.
“Then why, huh? I’m scum to you? Filth from the undercity?” He steps closer too, cane hitting the marble flooring with a clack.
“You’re hot- you stupid-“ You cover your mouth instantly, face warming in embarrassment.
He stands still, eyes wide as he looks down at you in surprise before his mouth lifts in a smirk, an exhaled laugh leaving his now parted lips.
“That’s not- I-“ You stammer, backing up to the door and turning to tug on the knob while simultaneously hoping the floor beneath you would swallow you whole, saving you from this mess.
You rest your forehead against the door again, the cool varnish on the wood a contrast against the warmth in your face.
You hear his cane clacking against the floor as he steps closer before you feel him lightly hit the back of your ankle.
“Stop it-“
He huffs out a laugh that sends a shiver down your spine. You lift your head from the door, side eyeing him and that stupid smirk.
“So.. if I heard this correctly-“
”Ugh.. shut up,” you groan, clenching your eyes shut in pure mortified fashion.
He hits the back of your ankle again, taking delight in your embarrassment.
”You’ve been glaring and being a sour princess because you..” He takes a step closer,”Find me attractive?”
His cane is used to box you in against the door and you warily turn around to face him and the stupidity of your unfiltered mouth.
“No- that’s not-“ You try to deny but you’re shut up when he just smirks down at you, stepping closer.
“Oh? Well.. if that’s not the case, that’s too bad, then..” his voice is now bordering a sultry, seductive tone.
Your eyebrows scrunch, your confusion obvious on your face,”How- how so?”
He quirks a brow at your curiosity, a grin overtaking the smirk. He takes a moment, seemingly deciding if he wants to keep teasing you or just be out with it.
He deliberately lets his gaze trail down your front, tracing every detail, taking in every ripple of the university's uniform. He brings his gaze back up to your face, lingering over your lips.
He quirks up an eyebrow, waiting.
You inhale sharply, cheeks warming even more so, coming to the blatantly obvious realization that he was openly checking you out.
There’s a long pause, followed by him taking a few steps back to lean against the teachers desk. He rests his cane against the side, looking back at you before beckoning you with a quirk of his fingers.
It’s like a command you’d been praying for- you step forward so quick, hands coming up to cup his gorgeously sculpted face before you’re tugging him down to meet your kiss, clumsy at first but desperation obvious.
He’s just as desperate, hands pawing down the back of your vest, cupping around your waist firmly.
You release a shaky moan against his lips, leaning into him as he takes charge of the kiss, licking at the seam of your lips and invading your mouth. One of his hands come back up to cup the side of your jaw, tilting your head back.
You brace yourself, palms pressing down on either side of him on the desk, only to jump and pull back at the loud clang of his cane hitting the floor.
He huffs out a soft laugh, cupping your cheek again and tugging you back in, tongue pressing into your mouth.
“Mmph-“ You moan against him, pawing down his front before carefully unbuttoning the top buttons of his vest.
“Eager, are we?” He says once he pulls back from the kiss, lips now slightly red.
“Shut up-“ You huff in annoyance, but you’re stopped when he grabs your wrists.
“That’s not very nice.. is it?” He hums, eyes darkened with lust as he gazes down at you.
Your cheeks flush, swallowing thickly before rasping a soft,”Sorry-“
”Sorry for what?”
You’re surprised even more so, mouth agape in confusion.
“You must be so used to always getting what you wanted, hm?” He gently but firmly cups your chin, tugging you closer, teasingly brushing his lips against yours,”What are you sorry for, Princess?”
You chase, but he holds you firmly, ensuring you’re not able to get what you want. You whine softly, pleadingly looking up at him but he remains stoic, now, a disappointed look in his eyes.
You swallow thickly,”I’m- uh.. I’m sorry for telling you to shut up-“
”Very good,” He praises, and your thighs clench beneath the long skirt of your uniform.
He grabs your chin, tugging you back in for another heated kiss before pulling back to unbutton your vest. You get the message, unbuttoning his as well and helping him out of it before shrugging yours off.
“Gorgeous,” he murmurs in praise as he helps unbutton your shirt, sliding it down your shoulders, his hands gently tracing down your arms, goosebumps following soon after.
You shake it off, cheeks flushed as you undo his tie and unbutton the first few buttons of his dress shirt, but leaving it on to admire his disheveled look.
“Enjoying the view?” He teases, beckoning you back in.
You roll your eyes but follow his call, sighing with bliss when he cups the side of your neck, fingers lacing into your hair to tilt your head to press kisses down your throat.
His touch sends heat through your body, your thighs tense beneath your skirt. You inhale sharply as his fingers unhook the back of your bra, carefully slipping the straps down your shoulders- your nipples harden in the cool air and it's almost like you can see his gaze darken.
His touch is careful, moving his hand from your hip up, up over your ribs to cup the underside of your breast and thumb over your hardened nipple.
He huffs softly,”To think- all this strife and annoyance could've been avoided..” He smirks and pinches your nipple, reveling in your soft yelp,”If we would’ve talked sooner..”
“Please,” you rasp softly, hands fumbling as you grip over his ribs, pawing at lean muscle and soft skin.
“Oh? Begging sounds so nice coming from your lips,” he praises softly.
You huff, leaning in to chase his mouth but he just chuckles at your eagerness, burrowing his fingers into your hair and tugging just right, a whimper escaping your throat.
“Please, what, princess?” He coos, tilting his head and giving you a lust filled look in his honey brown eyes.
You struggle to form words, licking your lips before finally managing to beg,”Touch me-“
“You’ve got to be specific, gorgeous, how am I supposed to know where?” He firmly cups your tit, nipple hard in his palm,”Here? Or..”
His knee suddenly presses between your legs, grinding into your clothed cunt.
“Mmmph- Oh, ahh-“ you whine, eyes fluttering.
“I’m almost tempted to make you get off like this, Princess,” He smirks, kissing your temple almost fondly, feeling immensely intimate,”But.. I’m not cruel.”
He disconnects from you, sliding over to the teachers chair as he uses the desk for stability, before beckoning you over and again, under his spell, you follow without hesitation.
He grips your hips, pushing you back against the desk and guiding one leg up onto the arm of the chair he sits in. He kisses the inside of your knee and you inhale shakily, stabilizing yourself against the desk with a white knuckled grip over the edge. His hands bring your skirt up, bunching up around your waist as he ushers you to lay against the desk.
He whistles teasingly, eyes lighting up as he sees the mess of wetness between your legs,”I haven’t even started, princess..”
“Don’t- don’t tease me,” you murmur in embarrassment, averting your gaze as warmth covers your cheeks.
“But you’re so fun to tease,” he coos, bringing the chair closer to kiss your inner thigh,”Take them off for me?”
You narrow your gaze, only to stop when he raises his eyebrow. Despite the embarrassment, it seems your need for him outweighs it, so you carefully shimmy your underwear off, not missing that he grabs them and stuffs them into his pocket- when you also spot his tented trousers.
“Spread them,” he taps your thighs.
You listen. Of course you do, almost like you were hypnotized by his voice and he can’t help the smirk almost permanently etched into his lips.
“Good girl,” he praises, petting your outer thighs and pressing a soft kiss to the soft skin inside, lingering as he groans from your scent.
He trails his hand up your other thigh, spreading you further before his thumb brushes over your swollen clit.
You squeak, releasing a shaky moan when he grins and rubs his thumb over it softly, not enough to get you off but enough to have you needy and whimpering for more.
“So greedy,” he murmurs against the skin of your inner thigh.
“Viktor- please,” you beg, gripping the edge of the desk with a pleading look in your eyes.
He chuckles, but decides to not tease, instead choosing to spread your folds with a pleased groan at the slick glistening on your cunt. He prods, allowing your slick to wet his fingers before looking up at you.
“Tell me to stop whenever, ok, Princess?”
You nod shakily, warmth gathering in your chest.
“Use your words, now..”
”Yes- I will, Viktor,” you stammer softly, chest heaving at his command.
He nods his approval, carefully pressing his pointer finger into your heat, groaning at the vice-like grip he’s greeted with. You open up so beautifully for him, gummy walls welcoming him almost greedily.
You huff, whining softly before slumping against the desk with a squirm of your hips, almost trying to pull him in more.
He pulls his finger back, then presses back in more, up to his knuckle, getting you used to the stretch. He listens to your soft, airy moans with a satisfied grin.
He presses another finger in, curling both upwards and gently pulling back just to press in harder, other hand holding you down flat against your stomach, thumb rubbing over your clit with precision.
Of course he’s a natural, you think to yourself with a huff before a moan is almost punched out of you as the pads of his fingers press something inside of you. You lift your head, dazed, as you peer at him only to groan at the self satisfied smirk on his mouth.
He sucks a mark into your thigh, speeding up his fingers and thumb, listening to you moan louder and longer, babbling nonsense and repeated pleads.
“Please- oh, don’t stop-“ You beg, head shaking back and forth against the desk.
“You sound so good, all desperate,” he coos, thrusting his fingers into you faster gradually,”Makes me wonder how you’ll feel riding me.”
You moan out loud at the imagery, your walls tighten up around his fingers and he groans, nipping into your thigh.
He keeps at it, grinding his fingers into you faster and harder as you gasp, whine and squirm against the desk. You babble, tears of pleasure pricking your eyes as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to that crest.
“Please- please, oh-“ you moan, back arching into his hands.
“You’ve been so good for me,” he praises,”I think you deserve a treat.”
He removes his thumb from your clit and you almost groan angrily only to yelp in pleasure as his mouth seals over the sensitive bud. He flicks his tongue over it, circling and sucking until you shriek out a moan, sure to have echoed around the empty class as you find your release.
After the mind numbing orgasm, followed by him licking your slick from your folds and his fingers, he pats the outside of your thigh to get your attention.
“C’mon, princess,” he coos.
You tiredly sit up from the desk, peering down at him as he sits back with a cocky smirk.
He points to a button on the inside of the desk,”Did you know that I was the one that installed the new locks to Professor Daughtry’s class? He requested that a secret button be placed on his desk that only he should know about- to unlock it, of course,” He tilts his head,”Sure, there’s a key that he carries, but there are perks to being one of the students he likes.."
He lifts a lone key after grabbing it from his pocket.
You raise your brow in confusion.
“We won’t be bothered at all,” he smirks, a lustful glint in his gaze as he scoots that chair back with his good leg before unbuckling his belt. He taps the floor with his foot,”Show me what else your mouth is good for.”
summary: you lost logan in this universe. logan lost you in his. what happens when you both see each other again, but realize that you're both from different worlds?
pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader
warnings: post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), angst (mentions of death, loss from both reader and logan), no use of y/n.
word count: 2.1k
a/n: this is my first logan fic, so if anything is ooc, i'm sorry in advanced! just like everyone else, i've been obsessed with hugh jackman / logan after watching deadpool & wolverine (if it isn't obvious lol)... i had the song 'unchained melody' in mind when writing this story because whenever i hear it, i think of logan for some reason lol (tried to embed it but it didn't work, but i'd highly recommend listening to the song while reading this!) anyway, hope you enjoy!
next part.
“I’ll be back.”
“But what if–”
“I always come back, bub.” Logan’s looking down at you, hand cupping your cheek. In moments like this, you can see the age in his features. The crows feet at the corners of his eyes. The gray in his hair and beard.
“Logan…” Tears sting your eyes. You know he has to leave, has to go help Charles, but there’s a feeling deep in your gut that knows that if he goes, he isn't coming back.
“Wait for me, then.” He says, dipping down to gently peck your lips. “Okay? Wait for me.”
“Logan,” you repeat. “What do I do if I– if I lose you?”
There’s a feeling in the pit of Logan’s stomach, a sense of dread and fear that he’s only ever felt when you were concerned. This feels a lot like a goodbye… That maybe if he does go, he won’t come back. And the thought alone scares him. He never used to have to think about the possibility of dying, his regenerative powers always healing him in record time, but he knows that he doesn’t heal as quickly as before. He feels more pain now than he ever had. And he knows he’s sick, knows that the adamantium that once gave him strength is now slowly making him weaker.
But now, the thought of dying… It fucking scared him. It scared him to think that he’d leave you here, all alone, grieving him. He had never thought he’d be deserving of someone like you, to be loved and taken care of so gently, so sweetly, so patiently. Even with all of the baggage he carried, you never pushed. He knew, right off the bat, that you deserved someone so much better than him, but you stayed.
Through it all, you stayed.
And Logan would forever be grateful. After everything he’s been through, the things he’s seen, the things he had to do, the people he’s lost, you gave him a life that was finally worth living.
“Then, you move on, darlin’.” Logan finally answers.
“And if I can’t?”
“You’ll have to.”
“I don’t… I don’t want you to go, but I know that you have to. Charles needs you and–”
“I love you with every fiber of my being, baby,” Logan interjects. “And I will love you in every lifetime.”
And that was almost a year ago. The moment he stopped calling, you knew that was it. That he either got into some real trouble or… Or that he was no longer here. It wasn’t until a young girl named Laura showed up on your doorstep, holding his dog tags that your assumptions were correct.
You had fallen to your knees, a sob escaping your lips, as you felt your world come crashing down. Logan’s death had left a gaping hole in your heart, in your life, and everywhere you looked and everywhere you went, all you could see was him.
You learned from Laura that during his last moments, he had told her to come and find you, that you would take care of her and give her a good life. Whenever you were around her, you tried to be strong, tried to put on a brave front, but behind closed doors, you were a complete mess. There were days where you didn’t want to get out of bed, didn’t want to eat; you just wanted the pain to stop. Every night, whenever you closed your eyes, you forced yourself to sleep because that was the only place where you could be with him.
In your dreams, he was alive.
In your dreams, he had made it back home.
In your dreams, he was here with you, helping raise Laura.
And every time you woke up, you were welcomed with the sudden reality that he wasn’t alive. He wasn’t coming back home. He wasn’t ever going to be here with you to help raise Laura.
Logan was dead and now, you had to try and learn how to move on.
For yourself.
For Laura.
For Logan.
—
He didn’t know what he was doing here, why he agreed to stay with Wade because it was driving him crazy. This wasn’t even his timeline; he wasn’t even meant to be here. Despite saving Wade’s timeline, Logan still found it hard to fit in. He tried to keep Wade and every single one of his friends at an arm's distance because he knows what happens to people he cares about.
But the more time he spent around them, the more he felt at ease. Logan would be lying if he said he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but when Laura mentioned your name at one of Wade’s family dinners, his heart skipped a beat. When he realized he would be able to stay in this timeline, you were all he could think about.
Logan wondered if you existed in this world and what he would do if you did. So, when Laura casually said your name, his head turned around so quickly that he felt dizzy. There were so many things he regretted in his own timeline, but you were his biggest regret.
Just like he failed the other X-men, Logan had failed you too. You had been there with the other X-men, trying to warn them of a planned attack and ended up getting caught in the crossfire. You had called out for him, just like Scott, like Charles, like Storm.
He managed to get to you before you had taken your last breath, holding you in his arms. Logan begged and begged for you to fight, that he’d do things right from now on as long as you just held on, but you were losing so much blood and Logan couldn’t stop it.
Even then, when you had every right to be angry with him, you gazed up at him with an understanding look on your face. You had always been so patient and kind, so sweet and considerate. You had made him so happy and it scared him, which ultimately ended in pushing you away because he didn’t think he was deserving of it. Of you.
“I love you, Logan,” you had said, wincing at the pain.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m–” Logan felt a sob catch in his throat, tears stinging his eyes as he looked down at you. “Please, baby, please please please, don’t–”
“I–” you coughed, eyes fluttering as you felt the pain overcome your entire body. “I will love you in every lifetime, Logan.” And then, you took your last breath, eyes falling shut and body falling limp in his arms.
Since then, Logan drank himself day after day, from dawn to dusk. The alcohol never truly helped, his regenerative powers sobering him so fast, but with every swig of liquor, it burned. And he spent years bringing pain unto others, including himself.
That was, until he met Wade who had given him a chance, a reason to fight for something… To not turn his back on someone who relied on him. A chance for redemption, to finally make things right.
“So, will you meet her?” Laura asks, holding Dogpool in her arms as she gazes up at Logan. “She– She used to be with this universe’s Logan and…”
“No chance, kid.” Logan interrupts, shaking his head. “I’m not him.”
“Did you have someone like her in yours?” she asks. “She’s always put me first, always made sure I was taken care of even when she didn’t have to, when she was grieving. And I think–” Laura sighs. “I think if she knows that some version of you is alive, it would make her real happy.”
“I’m not him,” Logan growls, feeling his irritation spike. “‘Sides, she’s better off without me.” He stands from the table and walks out into Wade’s balcony to get some fresh air, shutting the door behind him as he leans against the railing.
“But she’s coming tonight,” Laura finally says, long after Logan’s walked away.
Throughout the rest of the dinner, Logan remains outside. He can hear the muffled laughter coming from inside and it only angered him because it was just another confirmation that he didn’t belong here. He’s already on his fourth bottle of beer when he hears a familiar voice, smells a recognizable scent. He turns slightly and catches you stepping into Wade’s apartment, an arm slinging over Laura’s shoulders so casually, so maternally.
He feels his heart rate pick up. Your smile still lights up a room and he can’t help but his lips turning upwards at the sight. With his enhanced hearing, Logan can hear your voice and he shuts his eyes for a moment, tuning all of his attention on you until you’re the only one he hears.
Then, he hears your laugh and he lets out a sigh. He never thought he’d be able to hear that again, but his eyes shoot open when he hears you say his name. There’s a shocked tone in your voice, laced with sadness and hope. It all but crushes him because he knows that you’re probably expecting someone else, expecting this world’s Logan and he doesn’t want to disappoint you. Not again. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle it if he were to hurt you again.
But when he looks at you, his breath catches in his throat when your eyes meet his. Logan notices the surprise look on your face, but before he could try and escape, you’re already walking towards him. When you open the door and step out with him, your scent fills his senses and it makes him dizzy, like he can’t fully concentrate.
“You…” he hears you say, voice unsteady. “You’re not… I’m–” you sigh and shake your head.
“I know who you are,” Logan finally says, his own voice shaky.
Your hands reach out for him, but stopping halfway when you realize this isn’t your Logan. This is not the same man who died all those years ago. This is some version of him – much younger, less wrinkles and gray hairs in his hair and beard, but he still has that same look on his face. The scowl.
“From Laura?” you ask hesitantly.
“From my universe,” Logan answers.
“There– There’s a version of me in your universe?”
“There was.”
“And what happened to me?”
Logan’s jaw tightens. “The same thing that happened to your Logan in this universe.”
“Oh.” Your face drops, eyes softening. “I’m sorry,” you whisper.
Logan wants to run far from here, far from you because he feels himself yearning for more. He almost forgot how it felt like to be near you, to be inches away that he can just reach out and pull you into his arms. Your eyes captivate him, the kindness it expresses makes him feel like he matters. You had always made him feel that way that even through all of his anger, through all of the walls he put up, you showed him that he was deserving of something good. Even if he didn’t believe it himself.
And you… You were the best thing to ever happen to him.
There’s an uncomfortable silence that engulfs the both of you. He can see the tears threatening to spill over, can see the way your lower lip is beginning to tremble and he has this sudden urge to console you, to wipe away the tears that have now fallen down your cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” you repeat, bringing your hands up to wipe away the tears that seem to be trickling down your face nonstop. “I just– Losing my Logan just crushed me and I don’t think I’ve ever recovered.”
My Logan.
Logan can practically feel his heart beating in his chest. This isn’t a conversation that he thought he would be having and certainly not with someone he loved and died because of him.
“That’s okay,” Logan responds quietly, his tone softening. “I don’t think it’s easy to recover from losing someone you love.”
“Did you– Did you love me in your universe?”
Logan nods slowly, tightening his jaw as he gazes down at you. “With every fiber of my being.”
Your eyes widen and stare up at him. This might be a different Logan, but hearing those words again just brings you back to the moment you last saw your Logan before he left to go take care of Charles.
“Did you love me in yours?” Logan asks hesitantly.
You nod instantly, tears trickling down your cheek as you stare up at him. “I’d love you in every lifetime.”
Logan feels his own set of tears pool at the corners of his eyes and he moves a hand to rest on the railing, fingers lightly brushing against yours as he stares into your eyes.
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