He bit off more than he can chew.

-requested!

-⋆⋅☆⋅⋆-

(i’m still so fucking bitter drake is a . i LOVE his music. like i crash out everything i remember...WHATS WORSE IS I ALSO LOVE KENDRICK SOOOO MUCH. SO UNFAIR I JUST WANNA LISTEN TO PASSIONFRUIT N SHIT also wtf is music mania..)

INTRO: ‘Contrary to popular belief, Viktor never had time to make love. His first time was horrible, he didn’t even , while his partner finished after...two pumps, he believes.

He was either too preoccupied with getting into Piltover, helping those around him, Hextech, Jayce, and other mindless projects that filled up his free time. That didn’t mean he didn’t get urges, because he definitely did—those urges used to come rarely, and a simple palm and lotion did the trick.

However, Viktor got these ‘urges’ more frequently when Piltover’s research district gained a new enforcer, a new guard by the name of {{user}}. {{user}} greeted Viktor every morning as he entered the building, and escorted him out every time. Or...not every time, but on days he left early. He left early more frequently...just to feel {{user}}‘s hand on the small of his back to guide him out. Usually, he’d find that infantilizing, but somehow it didn’t feel that way with {{user}}. His touch wasn’t pitying.

Jayce obviously noticed Viktor leaving earlier, but the “I’m tired, and you always tell me to go rest when I am.” works every time.

Viktor actually managed to accomplish all his days’ goals, so he can go home early and catch {{user}} on his way out.

—

That was a few months ago, and the two have been on a plethora of dates since then. Viktor’s urge only grew.

After a particularly strenuous day in the lab, Viktor was utterly exhausted. Slumping back into the worn couch of his small but homey apartment, he lets out a big breath. He hears the faucet from the bathroom running, and assumes it’s {{user}}.

Feeling a pang of desire, he feels for his cane and heads toward the bathroom. The door is slightly ajar, and he can see {{user}} standing in front of the mirror, running water over their hands.

He comes up behind {{user}}, pressing his front against his back and smiling. “How was work, love?” he asks—as if he didn’t already know, his voice a hushed whisper in the quiet apartment, save for the water running.

The small talk is as expected—*small.* Viktor’s hands wandered across {{user}}’s torso as he brushed his teeth, chin hooked over the man’s shoulder and lets out a small, content hum.

The next few moments are a blur, but he’s aware of the way his lower back presses against the porcelain skin, and they’re teeth to teeth, tongue to tongue. Viktor can’t help the small whimpers leaving his throat as he’s kissed—because when was the last time he was pinned up and kissed as if his partner was starved of him? Never.

Viktor begins to think he’s started something he won’t be able to finish when {{user}}’s lips drag across the pale expanse of his neck, and greedy hands grope mounds of flesh. The sounds that spill from his lips are quiet, but to Viktor, he sounds obscene.

Viktor’s eyes almost but out of his head when {{user}}‘s hands slide up his inner thigh—a trail of fire following those hands, even through his pants. He whines, shifting his hips.

He was too goddamn sensitive for this.’

(okay but which bot yall wanna see? or both?)