Viktor Vektor x Reader

Twenty-One

A strange feeling of guilt grew in your chest as you sat foot into Misty's shop.

It smelled of burned herbs and some kind of perfume that your nose failed to recognise. But you thought of it as some fancy shit.

Why else would she use it to attract people?

No one was there.

She looked up as the door opened, her bright eyes peaking out from between deep black eyeshadow. For a brief second her gaze wandered you up and down before a smile appeared on her lips.

"(Y/N)!", you were surprised that she still remembered you. "Back on your feet again?"

A little confused that she treated you like a life long friend, you flashed her a thin smile and pushed your hands into your pockets.

Somehow everyone around this place made you nervous. You wanted to appeal to them but it just struck you as off that they were all so fucking nice.

How could a person remain human in a place like Night City?

"Hey...", you smiled again as your eyes met. "I, uh... You know I didn't want to bother..."

You placed a bundle of neatly folded clothes on her counter. Immediately, the urge to run overcame you. But you forced your legs to remain in one place.

Too many times had you fucked things up by running away. Not this time. Because this time of you ran the chance would be gone for sure.

No turning back.

"Vik gave you his clothes.", she noted as she flipped through the layers of fabric. "No bloodstains? He really did give you his new ones."

A fuzzy feeling chased through your body.

Odd, you thought and dismissed it.

"I wanted to return them...", you scratched the side of your temple to escape her soul-piecing gaze. "Is he... in by any chance?"

She huffed and crossed her arms, leaning over the counter to meet you even closer.

"He's always in."

You frowned.

"How come?"

She shrugged. Then a sign rolled off her lips.

"Vik is kinda... a lone wolf.", her voice had a strange undertone of regret as she said it. "He's the most loyal and will do anything to help the ones he cares for. But often he forgets to care for himself. Or he doesn't care at all..."

Sadness crossed her eyes. She seemed to be lost in thoughts for a second before her gaze jumped up again to gift you a sorry smile.

"You should go talk to him.", she said and pushed the bundle of clothes towards you to take. "He's asked about you a few times."

You frowned, but took the clothes off the counter anyways.

"How come?", you asked as you pressed them against your chest.

Even though you had tried to wash them as best as possible there was still a bit of your smell stuck in them. It was embarrassing but you couldn't help it.

Maybe he wouldn't even notice. And at best he'd toss them into his washer right away anyways.

"Your new implants.", Misty pointed at your hands that were now clearly run through with metal wires and openings inside the skin. "He wants to give them a check."

"Huh.", you nodded. "Good thing I came to talk to him about that."

"I thought so. Just go out the back and down the stairs. He's probably watching a boxing match."

You smiled.

"Thanks Misty. I owe you."

As a thanks, you tapped the counter with two fingers and pushed past her. Wooden beads jiggled as you pulled your head in to walk into the back of her shop.

It smelled of lavender. Or at least the fake kind that you knew from sleep medicine.

Chilly air caressed your face as you stepped out into the half ally. It was just as dirty as you remember it to be. You wondered why Vik had chosen this place out of all the places to pull up shop.

He was a decent ripper, better than any kind you ever had paid a visit. Surely he would have been able to get closer to Konpeki Plaza and take some corpos off Arasaka's hands.

So why would he choose Watson instead?

All of a sudden the cheering of a boxing match filled the stairway. Neon light flooded the shadows and the scent of sanitisers and hot metal was in the air.

From an angle, Viktor's back came into sight. He sat on his stool, as always, legs spread wide and his shoulder slurped.

It was kind of amusing how he sat, since you knew that whenever he stood up straight he made sure to straighten his back and reach his full height.

Maybe he had back problems from his old days as a boxer. You knew how that felt like. Your shoulders were killing you most days. And when it wasn't your shoulders it was replaced by something else.

Consumed by his match, one hand rested against his head, he didn't notice as you stopped mere steps away from him.

Just to be polite, you stopped at the end of the stairs and gave the metal gate a firm knock.

Surprised, but not startled, his eyebrows rose. Eyes moved behind tinted glasses.

There it was again, visible past the side of his glasses.

Cyanide.

It was stained by the neon light of the Kiroshi ads, darker than you remembered it to be in broad daylight. But it still had this strange chokehold on you.

A lightning chased down your back and made your entire body grow goosebumps.

You had to swallow hard before you managed to greet him with a nod and a smile.

"Got you clothes.", you said, almost childishly shy.

He leaned back, a deep breath making his large chest quiver.

"Hope you came for your checkup.", he said in a playful manner and got up to open the gate for you. "Or I'll be pissed."

His shadow fell over you. Viktor was a large fella, so large that he even managed to surpass you by a good amount. He was broad, probably also still packed with muscles.

You wondered if he'd be able to snap you in half.

Would you manage to win again him in a match?