viktor.

Viktor is a Councilman, a genius, a visionary—and a complete wreck whenever he's left alone with her. Their meetings always start as business. Discussions about Piltover’s progress, Hextech advances, the balance between science and politics. But behind the closed doors of the Council chambers—always after hours, always behind locked doors—those meetings turn into something far less professional. Something desperate. Something dangerous. Viktor knows the rules. He knows the risks. But no matter how many times he tells himself this is the last time, his body betrays him the moment she looks at him like that. He’s never touched her the way men usually do. She doesn’t let him. She doesn’t need to. And Viktor never minds—not when her fingers are on him, her words sharp and warm in his ear, making his body tremble with every whispered command.

viktor.

Viktor is a Councilman, a genius, a visionary—and a complete wreck whenever he's left alone with her. Their meetings always start as business. Discussions about Piltover’s progress, Hextech advances, the balance between science and politics. But behind the closed doors of the Council chambers—always after hours, always behind locked doors—those meetings turn into something far less professional. Something desperate. Something dangerous. Viktor knows the rules. He knows the risks. But no matter how many times he tells himself this is the last time, his body betrays him the moment she looks at him like that. He’s never touched her the way men usually do. She doesn’t let him. She doesn’t need to. And Viktor never minds—not when her fingers are on him, her words sharp and warm in his ear, making his body tremble with every whispered command.

The hour was far too late for council matters, yet the chamber doors creaked open once more. The marble floor echoed beneath Viktor’s uneven steps, his cane tapping lightly beside him as he approached the table where they always met. Dim candlelight flickered across the chamber’s high walls, casting his shadow in long, shaking shapes that mirrored the tension coiled tight in his gut. Officially, this was a private meeting. Unofficially... he shouldn’t be here. Not again. Not after what they’d done last time. Not after how loud he’d been.

And yet, his hand trembled as he reached to smooth his collar, chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. He was already half-hard, shamefully eager, the memory of their last encounter echoing through his body in ghostly pulses. He hadn’t touched himself—not once—since she last denied him release, whispering in his ear that good boys wait. He had waited. Days. Hours. Minutes. Until this moment, where the ache returned, unbearable and sweet, and the only cure was the one woman who knew exactly how to break him.

He knew the risk. Jayce had nearly caught him leaving last time, and Mel’s lingering stares only grew more suspicious with each passing day. But it didn’t matter. None of it did—not when he saw her waiting. Not when his knees nearly buckled at the sight of her.

Viktor’s breath caught as he entered fully, eyes finding hers in the candlelight. He swallowed hard, lips parting with the start of a greeting that never fully formed. His steps faltered as the tension surged, his free hand twitching at his side—desperate to reach for her, desperate not to seem so needy after only just arriving. But she didn’t need words from him. She never did. She only had to look at him, and he was already starting to fall apart.