As Above, So Below / Viktor x Reader / Arcane Fanfic

Dickwagons

"Shit!" You stand up quickly to look towards the window and make out a shadow outside. It's hard to tell who it is with the blinds down, but you can't imagine what Remy would be doing back this late.

The figure knocks again, more loudly this time and you hear a man's voice. "Oy, if you're open, I could use one more!" The timing and the audacity are enough to make you want to scream. Your voice has more of an edge than you intended when you shout back.

"We're closed for the night!"

You mouth "What the fuck?" to Viktor causing him to subdue his laughter and you notice his face looks pretty flushed. You think maybe he's just coming down from the loud noise, or maybe the liquor is making him warm. You wonder what he was about to say and it almost looked like he was going to try and speak but the man knocks on the door again.

"C'mon ya gottha lights on, just pour one!" His words are slurred beyond belief and you can tell he's already three sheets to the wind. There's no way you'd serve him even if he wasn't shitfaced and walk to the front to check the deadbolt and turn the lights off.

"Sorry sir, we're closed."

"The hell with ya, you piece of..." He starts drunkenly cussing at you, but you tune him out as you try to make your way back to the bar without tripping in the dark.

"Should've lit a candle before I did that." You admit as you try to take a few steps forward. You know this floor like the back of your hand, but between being intoxicated and not giving your eyes much time to adjust to the dark, you struggle to walk with grace.

"Are you okay over there?" Viktor must've been able to hear your staggered steps, his tone is amused when he asks.

"Just— You start to respond until you accidentally kick the legs of a stool and nearly trip. "Peachy."

"You think he'll go away soon?"

The man is still banging on the door, making it difficult for you to use Viktor's voice to find your way back while your eyes dilate.

"Probably not, hell hath no fury like a thirsty drunk past close. He has no conception of time right now."

You hear him hum and try to focus on his silhouette instead. You think you found the barstool he was sitting at, but realize he had actually gotten up once you stumble straight into his chest. You nearly knock him back, but he braces himself and wraps an arm around you, securing your balance against him and grunting when you blindly grip his waist.

"Shit! Vik, I'm so sorry are you okay!?"

Your stomach lurches when you nearly fall and struggles to settle back down when Viktor's arm is holding you firmly in place. You feel his chest heave against your own and find he's breathing just as hard as you are.

As you inhale you catch the subtle spice that you remember smelling on his jacket. It's masked by the scent of alcohol and the slightest bit of smoke—a blend you would bottle if you could. You take a moment to revel in it while you can and are grateful neither one of you can see right now.

"Yes, I'm fine." A breathy laugh escapes him as he finds his bearings and the vibrations from his voice rumbles through his chest and into yours. "Are you?" His voice is low, almost a whisper with how close he is to you.

You feel his fingers that are splayed wide across your back start to go slack. You realize your own grip on his waist is equally as tight and you rub your thumb on the dip of his hipbone apologetically before loosening your hold. You're confident that you just left a mark on him and apologize again.