Viktor Vektor x Reader

Twenty-Five

Surprised by your weight, Viktor tripped over his own feet. Together you fell to the ground with full force, he in front, while you fell directly on top of him.

It was surprising how soft he felt even though his body was largely packed with muscles. A gasp escaped him as your weight pressed down on him.

Blindly, you immediately tried to pick yourself up and escape, but his hand wrapped around your neck and dragged you back.

A soft cry escaped you, both because you were angry and frustrated.

"Let go of me.", you hissed as your hands flailed wildly in the air. "I give up! Vik!"

"Not so fast.", he growled and tried to pin you to the floor underneath him.

"I'm not a wrestler, damn it!"

Even though you weren't a lightweight and could have competed as a heavyweight with a little better nutrition, you were still no match for Viktor. Not only was he bigger than you, he was also much heavier. And better trained.

It took a while, but finally he managed to overpower you. You found yourself with your back pressed into the mat, his face just a hand's breadth from yours.

His warm breath brushed your sweaty skin. He smelled of disinfectant and blood, like a hospital. No, more like the trauma team.

To your surprise, your little fight had made him sweat a little. Fine beads of sweat shone on his forehead. His breathing was heavy.

His glasses had slipped off his nose in the scuffle. Out of the corner of your eye you could see them lying next to your head. If he had wanted to, it would have been easy to reach for them.

But he didn't.

Cyanide kissed (E/C).

Not once did he take his eyes off you. Not when you tried to move under him and not when your leg accidentally slipped up too high and slid between his legs. His shoulders stiffened and a deep breath escaped his nose.

Your cheeks felt like they were dipped in fire.

"That's... a little... close?", you weren't sure if you wanted to ask a question or address him about how good it felt to be so close to him.

"You have to keep your guard up next time.", Viktor had to clear his throat not to forget what he wanted to say.

"My guard?", at that moment you couldn't even think about your boxing form. "I... No wait, you let your guard down too!"

Pissed off, you grabbed his collar and pulled him closer.

"I beat you.", he remarked, but settled for leaning closer to you.

"You tricked me."

"Boxing is like a game. Know the rules and use them to your advantage."

It was hard to argue with that logic. He was right, of course, but that didn't change the fact that your pride was hurt.

Again.

For a moment you two just stare at each other. Not a word was said. No one knew what to do next.

"So... we fuck now?", you gave him a sarcastic grin.

Flustered, he just stared at you, his eyebrows drawn together. Then he suddenly had to laugh.

"Shit, sweetheart, you're like nobody's business!", he got back on his feet and held out his hand to offer you help.

The loss of his warmth over you made you whimper.

Why did you want him so badly to stay close to you?

"Fuck...", you growled.

Averting your eyes, you grabbed his hand and let him pull you up. He was so strong that you stood up again, swinging. He pulled so hard that you found yourself pressed against his chest once more.

Reflexively, your hands went to his chest to support you. The beat of his heart felt like the ticking of a clock in the palm of your hand.

"Viktor...", all at once you thought you felt him leaning closer over you.

The smell of blood and sterilised tools was in the air.

"Sweetheart...", his hands grasped your shoulders as he shook his head wearily. "Good ol' Viktor is not what you dream of."

Irritated by his words, you had to frown.

"What am I dreaming of?", you asked. "How... do you know what I'm dreaming about?"

You had to snort.

He had no more right to assume things than you did. And yet you knew that he only meant well. But like a child, you could feel the defiance spreading through you.

You wanted him, one way or another. He was a good man and everything you could probably want in this goddamn city.

What a strange thought.

He had grown on you so quickly that you wanted to be with him always. He was the security you had never known.

All at once you took a quick step back. Your eyes met his.

"I don't want to ask too much of you.", you said with a thin smile. "You have already done a lot for me. I will go now."

"I didn't mean that.", he grabbed your shoulder. "Look at me. (Y/N), please."

With a deep sigh you closed your eyes and slowly turned around, just enough to see him out of the corner of your eye.

"Viktor, I know we are not in the same league.", you said with a shrug.

"Sweetheart, let's calm down first.", his hands reached for your face to gently force you to look at him. "I am not what you want. Not like this."

Again you frowned.

"I don't know what you're getting at.", your head tilted to the side questioningly, but you knew what he was trying to tell you. "Viktor, I'm not interested in... No, that's not quite true."

He sighed heavily.

"Sweetheart... I'm just an old ripper. No longer a legend. I have nothing to offer you."

"Couldn't you call me that? It makes me feel things I shouldn't feel."

Agreeing, he let you go. But there was this hesitation in his movement. As if his fingers were trying to hold on to you as long as possible.

"Vik...", you stepped back again. "I'm not interested in legends. This town is eating us all anyway. What I want is... No, forget it... I just want to go home."