Hopefully sometime this weekend. Im about 3k words in, its mostly just research for me because im not used to writing much nsfw. Tension? hell yes. Actual results? not so much.
I’m thinking Jayce or Silco for the next work. Both are power-tripping off the chains so it’s down to whether i want a hotheaded ace or a mustache twirling mafia man.
Warnings: acting under the influence (severely), sexual actions, stimulation, fluff fluffier than Viktor’s hair
It was easier to convince Viktor to leave the party than you would have imagined. He hadn’t even thought over the idea for long before agreeing. The crowd, equally, seemed just as lenient, almost granting a breath of patience to allow for you to navigate and retrieve his cane and notebook, before resuming its lively pretense.
One last glance at the soirée, feeling yourself fill with conviction, you departed with Viktor. Two stewards stood by the front doors diligently, impending the arrival of retiring guests. Once close enough, they moved in unison, opening the entrance, farewelling the party’s company and inviting the night’s crisp, cool air. You braced against the gusts that violated your neatly kempt hair, however a rustle sounded from behind, and you were suddenly enveloped in a memorable warmth.
Again, the smell of coffee and maplewood overwhelmed you, causing your eyes to water just slightly and your nose to tingle from the scent it was currently flooded in. Hands hugged your shoulders as you were draped in a heavy sort of fabric. Realizing it was Viktor’s coat, you turned your head, only to stop at seeing how close he had gotten. He was leaning down, head just next to yours, his mouth nearest to your ear, and upon turning your head, his lips pressed just barely against your cheek. His brown hair tickled your skin, and despite the effort to warm you, you felt goosebumps rising beneath your skin nonetheless.
“It’s best we get going now,” One hand released your shoulder, returning to his cane, the other slid down to your back, pushing gently to urge you on. Even after moving, his hand remained on your back. “I don’t want you to get sick in weather like this.”
“Because if either of us got sick, it would definitely be me,” He smiled to himself at your quip, giving a glance that breathed a hint of warning. You always had a knack for testing his patience, yet he never seemed to be annoyed with you the way he would with Jayce or anyone else for that matter.
“Point taken.”
You felt a solid material tapping your thigh from the pocket of Viktor’s coat as you walked. Slipping in your hand, you felt leather binding— his notebook. He usually seemed a bit shy about letting anyone ever finger through the contents of his innumerable collection, but frankly, you were curious. That, and you needed a distraction from the cold, but even more so from his hand that seemed to be inching closer to your waist with every step taken.
The content within was filled to the brim with ink. The book was nearly full, a surprising discovery since he’d only just started on this one about 3 months ago. This could have easily been a year’s worth of work for you. Dates stretched between 2 pages and 15, giving a broad idea of how late he stayed up on certain days. Some, you could still remember for his habitual inquiring if you had planned to stay as well. Had you never known the man and seen this, you would have called him mad, though that wouldn’t be far from whatever this was. The journal itself looked more than a few years old, ripped and wrinkled pages, paper so smeared and messy on some pages, it almost looked like Viktor had knocked over a bottle of ink onto his precious information. About two-thirds into the book, a specific page caught your eye. It had been dog-eared several times, the fold hanging on only by a single corner. There was a sketch of a woman, or rather several, roughly done, but still detailed enough to consider good. Her face was indistinguishable. A specific sketch caught an embarrassing moment, one of the many times you’d fallen asleep over your work.
“I can get a bit distracted at times when nights are long enough,” He must have noticed the abrupt stop in the sound of pages flipping. You were staring at yourself, who stared back with a calm smile, eyes bright despite the dull lead they had been sketched with. Is this how he saw you? It seemed a mirage, a filter— the woman on the page held so much grace around herself, you had no idea when he could have ever seen you so self-possessed. You were a nervous wreck half the time, and the other half you simply avoided conversation to save yourself the embarrassment. “My mind always tends to drift to things at the back of my mind without it meaning to.”
You didn’t respond at first.
The page was dated 2 months ago.
Viktor had been thinking about you for at least 2 months.
Your eyes flickered up from the page for a moment to fathom such a thought, but you refused to look at him. 2 whole months, and you had no clue. If he’d been able to hide it this well for so long, who knows when this all truly began?
At the bottom corner of the page was a little scribble of words in black ink, a recent edition to the piece, that read ‘tie thief’ with a line drawn under it for emphasis. You caught a snicker from escaping.
“You know,” You started, causing Viktor to look down. You tapped the open journal against his chest playfully before pretending to thumb through the remaining pages. “I remember there being a difference between stealing a tie and just outright forgetting it on my bedpost.”
“If you hadn’t been so considerate on my behalf, I would have come back for it later,” Your head shot up. He was staring down at you through a lidded gaze. His words had been spoken with hints of humor, but his eyes reflected a sort of quiet intensity. As if he meant every syllable. It was confounding, just how quickly Viktor could go from embarrassment to saying something that could just as easily cause your knees to give.
The moment was interrupted by a singular splat. A droplet on the pages in front of you. The bead of water rolled down the pages, leaving a trail of smudged ink behind. The minute it fell from the book, another took its place, followed by another, and another. The sky, having seemingly welled with tears, finally let loose its sorrow, consuming you and Viktor before you could escape fast enough. The rain was hard, blinding. One moment you’d been swept blindly in a torrent of bad luck, the other moment, you were being escorted across the walkways towards some location you couldn’t see. Viktor held his coat above your head, holding it against you tightly to protect you from the showering weather.
Your feet would occasionally slip on the edge of the pavement, tramping the grass, and painting your heels and legs in mud. The water should have felt like a cold slap to wake you up, but it didn’t. It seemed to only disorient you further, like you were walking in a vortex. The dress’s train was in worse shape. You were certainly dragging more than just mud in the curtains. God, Jayce was going to kill you.
Perhaps it was rage, perhaps the world had finally grown just as impatient with you as you had become over the course of the evening. Perhaps it was this rage that made you move, made you take the steps needed to end the night as it was meant to— even if in a literal sense.
“We’re here,” He spoke, only to you. The storm ensured his words were lay in solace only to your ears. He let go of your shoulders, and you paused for a moment, wondering what he meant. Your head bumped against his back when you tried to follow after him— he had apparently stopped for a moment, staring at a familiar door. Your dormitory. Of course, you must have been close to it from where you had been, but of all the surrounding places he could have chosen, why your dormitory? It could have been the simple inclination to go to a place of comfort. A jingle was heard from his pocket, and from it he protruded a large keyring.
It was curious how something that large could even fit in his pocket. Even more curious how he always seemed to know exactly which key he needed to use. Though his hand still trembled as he twisted it in the slot.
It was dark, humid, within and smelling of burning dust from the heat kicking in after months of dormancy. Dripping from multiple leaks echoed across the vacant space. Such a vast contrast from the boisterous banquet hall earlier. There was nothing to indicate a single living breath save for your squeaky footsteps on the hardwood flooring.
A shaft for an old lift sat to the left of the entrance, parallel lay the stairwell. But with your room being on one of the top levels, and how far you had just run to get here, the answer was clear which one you would be taking. Viktor held back for a moment when you began towards the metal casing.
“Come on, you should dry off at least,” He still hesitated. Returning to his side, you grasped his hand. “Or at least escort me to my room.”
He begrudgingly followed, but made no sound to argue after you gave his hand a slight squeeze. Pressing the button to call on the lift, you watched it descend with a rusted scream of protest. This building was more than due for an update, but it could at least keep you warm. Your breath felt shallow as you ascended, nervous that the apparatus could break at any moment. It must have been years since anyone had the guts to ever use this thing. You’d always remembered walking past it
Yet, that wasn’t the reason your stomach felt so bubbly. The screeching and shaking and grinding of metal was as the back of your head. The sound of his breathing next to you, the feel of his fingers intertwined with yours. That is what haunted your every thought.
The roof of the lift was non-existent, it resembled more an ornate cage, of which you were both confined. Following the line from his hands to his arm, to his neck, to his face. But he had only been looking high above him for awhile now. The foyer of the dormitory was lit with an impressive skylight, that seemed to grow in luminance the higher you rose.
He was watching the stars expand upon the rippled glass; you were watching him. The view would have been brief, a small break in the dark canopy that had thus enveloped the sky this evening. A small chance to see every bit of emotion that had once been hidden in the dark. It was like the gate of heaven had opened up just for the two of you to witness. The stars seemed to fall down like a fine glittery mist and kiss him with the way they reflected in the dewdrops speckled still across his face and dripping from his hair. His eyes burned like a sun of their own, shone alight with the wonder that he was steadily rising to meet.
But alas, everything, at its best, is only ever fleeting.
Just as the clouds caught up to one another, followed by rain, the lift gave one last cry of torment before coming to a rocky halt. His hand slipped from yours as he used it to prop open the door, ushering you to walk ahead of him.
Your legs wobbled as you treaded the isolated hall towards your room. A feeling like nausea starting to twist your stomach. You didn’t want the night to end so soon, you weren’t ready to say goodnight and forget everything that had been building up to this moment so beautifully. The distraction in the lab, the dancing— not only in the height of the party, but in solace,— and the way fate seemed so kind to your favor.
“Had you planned to make it this far tonight?” It was a dark pain, this urge of wanting. He soon caught up, if not from a desire to be the proper escort, then most certainly from your attempts to slow the tender end that was inevitably approaching.
“What do you mean?” He spoke quietly. One might assume it was out of respect for the sleeping students you passed by, but you knew that wasn’t why.
“Viktor,” His name sound like a warning, and upon hearing it, your eyes met. He looked scared of the grit in your voice, of the truth you were ready to spill. “My dorm isn’t anywhere near tonight’s gala. I’m sure the rain helped your case, but I have a feeling we would end up here regardless. Is that right?”
His eyebrows wrinkled, eyes widened, visibly offended by the suggestion. Your room was only 5 doors down, yet it felt like reaching it would still take all of eternity.
“If you’re suggesting I made some kind of agenda for tonight, then you’re mistaken.“
“Well, I’m just saying, you said you wanted to come back here, so maybe-“
His hand suddenly grabbed your forearm, had it not been so earnest, you would have called its grip harsh. You stopped 1 door away, yours within peripheral, yet the only thing in focus was him, his eyes, his shadow swallowing your shrinking frame. Never had they seemed so sharp and critical of you, blinding you with more intensity than the sun that they reflected. It seemed your teasing had broken his limit.
“It was never my intention to take advantage of your hospitality, (Y/n),” That was the first time you’d heard him say your name for what it was. No ‘miss’, nothing. The way you saw him changed, if only slightly, if only for that moment, and you found yourself wishing it had been spoken more gently— the way he’d always said it when he added the ‘miss’. “You are in no state for me to indulge anything, and neither am I.”
He released you then, and you took a moment to process his words. Viktor was rarely ever this assertive or blunt, and for the few moments after you felt a sobered pang of guilt at the accusation before, regardless of whether it had been a joke. He walked the final few steps to your door, and you followed in silence. The key was inserted, turned, but the door never opened. You held it still in the slot, pressed between your index finger and thumb, watching the gold keychain swing. The keychain was a gift, a joint birthday gift from Jayce and the very man right behind you. You released it, letting it hang there like a dead body. There was still something on your mind, a question that needed answering. The charm swung like the pendulum of a clock, each swing ticking a singular moment to think, to decide, to act.
You didn’t want it to end. This night. This wonderful memory.
You wanted it to last just a little bit longer.
“So, you’re saying things would be different if my intentions had been the same?” You took a stand, turning back around to meet a baffled Viktor.
“I cannot trust either of us would feel the same by morning,” It was clear that he was pained from this truth.
“Did you feel different from the other morning?” Something unnatural was urging you on. It was true he’d rejected your advances just then, but something else remained in his eyes with the frustration. He wasn’t being entirely truthful with himself.
“No,” He seemed conscious of your proximity, scared to say anything more.Your fingers dug around his tie. You held it like a leash, preventing the poor dog from running off.
“Then it wouldn’t be different tomorrow morning,” Your grip tightened, straining for him to lower his head to your level. Your words had never felt so certain, so calculated.
“But-“
“Viktor,” He looked like a child being scolded. But he fell quiet, more from timidity than politeness. He was putting you before himself. How generous. How sickening. A feeling of annoyance had begun to spill over the edge. Viktor had once again tried to be the saint; he had done so for the last time. “Maybe the bottle makes me brave, maybe a little foolish, but there’s things I need to say. You… make me feels so many things, and I couldn’t even begin to understand how to express them. I feel.. happy, and scared, but so safe when I’m around you. There are so many things telling me to unlock this door and drag you in with me.”
“And I can say without hesitation that inebriation isn’t one of them. I’ve wanted to do and say these things a lot longer than that,“ You were seething, out of breath, clenching his tie aggressively. Any remains of poise from your tedious presentation had been chipped away little by little: your wet hair, likely runny makeup, the drying mud on your feet and legs, the rips in your dress; very little must have been left to save any composure. You felt like a raw wound that had finally broken through its skin. “So, if you have any idea of what’s best for you, stop being such a goddamn martyr and kiss me, you bastard.”
You watched.
And you waited.
For a reaction. Anything.
He exhaled sharply. And then his hands were on you, his weight against you, knocking the gasp out of your lungs from the sheer force— you found yourself pinned against your door. He stole your next breath in a heated kiss, fueling the same agitation that you’d just expressed. His hand cupped your jaw, the other swinging open the door. His arms wrapped under your legs and lifted you up. They wrapped around his waist, your hand releasing his tie only to wrap around his neck. A clatter was heard and echoed through the hall, but neither of you paid it any mind.
A silent kind of darkness met you inside, windows illuminated with a peaceful blue that bled through the glass. Condensation fogged the opaque corners. The only other company was that of the rain as it quietly tapped against your windows. It seemed more muffled in your dormitory than it had in the lobby and halls. Yet it was still deafening, like heavy static. The parallel wall and floor were illuminated by the orange sliver of slight shining through the doorway, slowly shrinking as it began to swing closed on its own. He used the limited time wisely, breaking the kiss so he could see, and moving quickly before the light would inevitably die. Various articles fell like bread crumbs behind you— your dress’s train, your petticoat, his vest—, until what remained was the barest of coverings.
His hand cradling your neck, he leaned down, and your back felt the plush cushioning of your mattress. Viktor seemed to know exactly where to find it. Your legs half-hung off of the bed, lined between his. He soon joined you, pressing his lower half lightly against yours. Viktor’s head nestled in the nook of your neck, lips ghosting your clavicle, drinking in your scent. You must have smelled like the downpour currently raging outside— the same way that he currently smelled. Humid and earthy.
“The things you do to me,” He breathed out sinfully. “I’m half mad for you, my dear.”
His words felt… vulnerable. As though there were things he’d wanted to do for so long, and yet, until this moment, he’d never had the chance to enact. You were the first to ever hear such words, and saying them seemed to lift what remained of his anxiety. There was desire in his eyes. Gritty, wild, beautiful desire.
“Show me,” You unfastened the top button of his vest, then the second. His hands wrestled with the front lacing of your corset, hands trembling more with each row of thread that loosened, until, finally, it fell from your chest.
The room was so dark, impossibly hard to see his face, only his silhouette, and his eyes. They almost glinted in the darkness, piercing you in a way that left you completely exposed under him. All you could see was the sun. All you could feel was its heat on top of you. Burning. Seizing. Consuming.
When he kissed you, if felt like a wildfire. Spreading from your face, to your chest, to the sweet spot between your legs. You couldn’t get his shirt off fast enough, and in a whine of frustration, you ripped open the fabric, hearing the remaining buttons scatter along the hardwood floor. You felt his bare chest press against yours.
Your thigh rubbed against his leg, intertwining your leg over his calf. It lifted it to graze his thigh, then his waist, urging him to go further. You trailed your hands down his torso, searching for something, before hooking around the buckle of his belt. His tongue grazed against yours, but he stopped abruptly when you tried to unfasten the leather strap. Viktor sat up, and before you could complain, you felt his hand around your neck. It squeezed just slightly, though not of a warning.
“Please,” He was breathing heavily, and you could tell how much he was shaking from the grasp. It was a plea, if anything. A prayer that you might slow down, for his sake. A request you would grant for the moment. “I would like for this affair to last a little bit longer. I don’t think I’ll last if you keep at this pace.”
The hand around your neck loosened and trailed down your clavicle, drifting further, tickling your skin delicately until they traced down the valley of your breasts. His knee suddenly pressed between your legs, causing you to gasp out. His leg pressed harder, flexing against you, agitating the spot even farther than it had been before. You didn’t even realize how wet you felt, but it was ever evident with each roll of your hips against him. A quiet moan seeped from your lips, and he leaned forward to plant a tender kiss on your neck. Another whine resonated from your throat when Viktor’s hand finally found a grip on your chest. He felt you up for a moment before a thumb rolled over your nipple.
You could only feel yourself coming apart. Viktor nipped at your neck lightly, pecking the reddening skin before making a trail of kiss to your other breast. They were already hardened by the cool air, but you were evermore aware of it when his breath fanned your chest.
Your nails dug into his back, sometimes scraping the harness you’d forgotten he always wore. Another reminder to remain gentle with him. But in the moment, you were too wound up in the feeling of his tongue swirling against your nipple and the pressure of his thumb on the other, you could only try to not break his skin. You ground your hips harder against his leg, needing to satiate the growing need for friction. He flexed it again, hitting just the right spot on your clitoris.
He must be able to read you like an open book, you thought. How else could he know how to drive you mad this well? A knot was forming in your gut. A need for release. You felt like a volcano overdue for eruption. Like a mountain one snowflake short of an avalanche.
A flash emanated in the room. For a moment your eyes connected, both reflecting something only human amidst the chaos unfolding. Thunder followed. It rattled the windows and muffled another cry. You were sweating now, constantly out of breath, fighting to stay composed. But Viktor had other plans in mind. He stopped his relentless torture on your breasts, trailing back up to your neck. His soft hair tickled your neck and cheek, and his breath fanned against your ear.
“I want you to entertain an idea for me, dear,” The other hand playing with your nipple stopped as well, and came to rest against your cheek, caressing it gently. At the point, you were barely holding on to any rationality. His words seemed more from a dream than present reality. “How long have you been waiting for this?”
“V-Viktor,” You could only stutter out his name between a whimper. “Please.”
“Hm?” The man hummed out. He was clearly beginning to enjoy how much power you were giving him in the moment. You threw your head back, arching your body just slightly. You were so close. “I’m quite curious to know.”
“What, to fuck you?” It was blunt, sure, but you honestly couldn’t be bothered to speak any more eloquently. But even the nature of how you said it seemed to set Viktor over some kind of edge. “God, I don’t even remember. Months?”
He sighed, deeply, pressing his forehead against yours wistfully. If he spoke anything else, you paid it no mind. You were on a high ride, wanting so desperately to climax. Sometimes, it’s perhaps appropriate for reality to go insane. You didn’t realize how good he could drive you on, make you want more. How greedy you were for it. And he hadn’t even had the chance to fuck you properly. Just what had this man done to you?
You let out one final outcry, feeling your underwear become fully soaked from the shame of how easily he’d just made you climax. He helped you ride out the high, planting an addictingly sweet kiss atop your lips as you tried to bring your mind back to a state of sanity.
“Would you like to know something?” Even from the darkness, you could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ve wanted the same thing since the first day I met you.”
Everything is done, but writing smut is more challenging than I'd expected. I'll post a little teaser though, just to help some of the people who've been sticking it out all this time.
On a fun note, I compiled every part thus far just to see how long it is.
Warnings: acting under the influence, sexual tension, some mild sexual action, get blue-balled again fools, a pinch of angst
A/N: I honestly figured just getting this big chunk out now would be better than just making you all wait anymore. I’ll be working on the last part tonight for sure, and you can expect it to be the most action-filled from any of these previous chapters.
Slow dancing with Viktor— god, you had never even imagined that possible. Things had escalated at such an impossible rate. You could wake up tomorrow to find that everything had been a dream, and what would have changed?
His voice in your ear, his hands trailing along your waist, his body driving you against—
Warnings: Sexual implication, More sexual tension, some mild angst (mostly from Viktor), golden smugboy energy, jayce is a himbo
[A/N] : I’ll be leaving for a small trip for a few days, so I wanted to at least get out what I had done. Part IV will definitively be the last part. Again, though I didn’t give much chance to proofread this so just keep that in mind
It was a sight. Blue, like a winter dream, covered in a silk tulle that glittered like a thousand stars in the night sky. The fabric was heavy and elegant, far from the the style of comfort that you were used to. Gold harnessed the frame, ghosting a familiar figure.
Warning: Some sexual content, sexual tension, im blue-balling you bitches, Viktor is still adorable no matter what, maybe angst (?) (idk it depends on how edgy you’re feeling)
A/N: It’s a bit shorter than I would have liked, but I wanted to get this out as soon as I could. I didn’t proof this either, so its possible there are chunks missing. Also should I keep the borders? I kinda like it.
An hour passed before you finally entered the lab. Jayce greeting you with his usual good morning wearing the same stellar smile of his you’d grown used to seeing. When your work with him had first started, you could have sworn you’d eventually go blind just by how white Jayce’s teeth were. You mumbled a reply, trying your best to reflect the same amount of joy, but your attention instantly drifted to Viktor once you noticed he was present too, tinkering on some small contraption. The hand in your pocket tightened. The piece it held, his tie, wound tightly around your fingers. The fabric felt like silk under your fingers.
tangentwithtanner
snowghoul
turnnoffyourmind
prguitarman
origamiaround
