Reader x Viktor - Cradle Me

Depressed!Reader x Viktor - Cradle Me

_{Trigger Warning; themes include self harm (cutting) and depression.}



Before the events of Yuri on Ice


Saint Petersburg, Russia

Looking up at the entrance of the ice rink, you take a deep breath and remind yourself you are only here to drop off the borrowed  leotard from your friend that works the booth. Nothing more and nothing less.

         Inside, you make the exchange and keep small talk to a minimum, wanting to rush home as soon as possible. You are almost home free when a voice booms and calls forth everyone’s attention. “(F/N)! IS THAT YOU MY LYOBOV MOYA? COME HERE, WE MUST SHARE OUR STORIES ABOUT OUR LIVES,” the voice calls out. The moment you hear the heavy Russian accent, you know exactly who spoke.

         The accent alone takes you back years, to times when life was happier and filled with good times. Viktor Nikiforov and you met the winter the two of you were only five. From the beginning, you knew he could grow up and become an amazing skater, despite the many tumbles you had helped him through.

         As life would have it, you two continued to live near each other, allowing your relationship to grow and flourish. Only at the start of college did things take a turn; you had to move halfway across the country and thousands of miles away from Viktor. Although the two of you promised to stay in touch, you broke your word and never replied to his messages, ashamed of what you had become.

         You try to make a run for it, trying to get away as soon as possible. It would be too late to run away if he caught you. “Come back here~~ You cannot run from me, lyubov moya.” Your foot is out the door when a hand wraps around your tender arm.

         Viktor pulls you back and hugs you tightly. Wincing, you retract your arm to massage the skin through your long sleeves. Small blobs of red begin to stain the fabric, but from the inside out. His left eyebrow flies upwards and his eyes narrow onto your limb. “Стой!?” After a moment, reality hits him hard. His mouth falls open and his eyes lose their usual gleam.

         “Prihodi suda,” Viktor calls sternly. Afraid of what he would do to you if you did not listen to him, you follow Viktor. Taking your opposite hand in his, he drags you through the crowd to the men’s locker room.

         “Can the room be cleared please?” There were only a few stragglers left in the room aways, but they gathered their things, nodded, and left. No one questioned him.

         Once everyone is out, Viktor locks the door and pushes you over to the sink. Without your consent, he raises the sleeves of your sweater. Upon seeing your torn up arm, old scars and new flesh wounds dancing across the skin, Viktor is taken back. Where was the strong young lady he knew all those years ago?

         When he reaches out to touch them, you pull back and whimper softly. Fed up with your actions, Viktor pulls you by the wrist and turns on the water. As he rinses the cuts, you watch as his expression changes from anger to sadness.

         “Please stop,” you whisper, arm going stiff.

         “You might get an infection if… if they are not clean.”

         “Please…”

         This time, Viktor lifts his head slowly and meets your eyes. After a split second, he turns away to grab some paper towels. He applies pressure to your arm and starts talking fast - faster than you can comprehend the words.

         Realizing he speaks too fast, he takes your hand and marches outside with you in tow. “Everyone! I would like to make an announcement please~~”

         Surprisingly, the entire rink lowers its volume.

         “Starting today, (F/n) will be my new publicist and will follow me everywhere! She…”

         Your ears stop working and your eyes can only stare straight. What what he saying? This was crazy, even for him!

         You tug on his sleeve and hid behind him. “Viktor…” you whisper. “What are you doing?”

         He does not reply and begins to answer people’s questions.




Sochi, Russia

“What do you mean rooms have been overbooked?”

         The lady at the desk offers you a sad expression. “I’m afraid you have been moved into a different suite with a king sized bed instead of double queen beds.”

         Viktor puts a hand on your shoulder and smiles at the lady. “It’s fine, we’ll take it. Thank you.”

         She beams as you scowl and walk off to look around the huge hotel. “So…” she starts, clicking her fingers against the keyboard, “how long have you two been together Mr. Nikiforov?”

         He runs a hand through his silver hair and laughs. “We’re not… we’re not together.”

         “If you say so, sir.” A machine beeps. “You will find your bags in your room. Here are your keys, Mr. Nikiforov.”

         Viktor stretches out a hand, but his eyes are glued on your marved expression as you admire the architecture of the building. How beautiful she looks there, he thinks. Any passing stranger would think she is innocent and pure… while in reality she is hurt and tainted. She does not know I still find her beautiful… I always have.

         “Mr. Nikiforov?”

         Turning his head, he fakes a laugh. “Thank you! Have a good day~~ Golubka, come. Our room is ready and I know you are sleepy. We can take a nap before going to the ice rink!”

         With that, he drags you down the hallway and to the elevators.




“Like I’ve been telling you for the past week, I’m fine on the couch alright? It’s the last night before the competition and you need to be well rested. And with that, goodnight.” You shut the door behind you and crawled under the makeshift covers of the couch-bed.

         Little did you know that Viktor lingered in his spot for a moment, hand nearly touching the door handle. Snapping out of his trance, he turns away and goes to change for bed. He hated when you shut him out.

         “Spokoynoy nochi, (F/n).”

         Ever since the two of you arrived to Sochi, you barely exchanged words with him. It wasn’t exactly on purpose, but you did not want to attach yourself to him like you had in the past. The time that closely followed breaking your close friendship with him after high school was a dark time for you that you wanted to stay buried in the past.




It’s the middle of the night when Viktor wakes suddenly to the sound of soft sobbing. He pushes this covers back, tiptoes over to the double doors separating the bedroom from the lounge area, and pushes on the wood gently.

         Without saying a word, he scoops you from the couch and holds you close to his chest as he walks back to his bed. He lowers you to the mattress only to have your arms locked around his neck. A chuckle escapes his lips and he climbs under the covers.

         Wrapping his arms around you, Viktor reels you into his torso and cradles you as you continue to cry. After a few minutes, he pulls your injured arm forward and presses his lips to the scars, soothing the skin and your heart.

         “What are you doing?” you hiccup as you wipe away tears with your free hand.

         “Kissing you. Isn’t it obvious?”
         
         “You’re ridiculous,” you giggle, nuzzling deeper into Viktor’s chest. “Why are you doing this? You were supposed to be getting some rest before the competition…  today?”

         His lips trail up your arm and to your neck, soft kisses pressing themselves to your warm skin. “What  happened, zvezda moya? Why would you do such a thing to your beautiful self?”

         “I-I-I… fell on the ice and was injured… publically humiliating myself. It’s been… two years since I’ve skated? I can’t remember. Physical therapy was required for a year and a half after… I’ve only just finished my sessions with my trainer two months ago.”

         “Why didn’t you call me?”

         He felt you shrug against his chest. “I didn’t… ugh I don’t know.”

         Viktor’s fingers tickle your chin. His thumb grazes across your bottom lip. “I guess I will have to skate for the both of us tomorrow, no?”

         Before you can respond, he pulls you forward, your mouth crushing into his. Without hesitating, he drags his tongue over your lips. After a moment, you melt into the kiss and rest your hands on either side of Viktor’s cheeks.

         “Oh bòzhe mòi! Your hands are so cold~”

         You giggle and press your fingers to the tender skin under Viktor’s throat, making him squirm.

         “Hey!” he laughs. His fingers dance across your abdomen, raising goosebumps in their wake. He is tickling you.

         “Mercy! Mercy, mercy, mercy!”

         Viktor smiles smugly before laying flat on his back. “Shall we try to fall asleep again?”

         You nod and move to get out of the bed only to be pulled back into his chest. “Where do you think you’re going, little one?” You are pressed against Viktor’s torso; his heart beats strong in his chest, a sound you find comforting.

         “Goodnight then, Viktor.”




The crowd bursts into cheer, their claps and shouts filling the stadium. Roses are thrown onto the ice, but Viktor ignores them all. He skates as fast as he can towards you.

         Seeing that he is coming towards you, you run around the rink and to the entrance onto the ice. At the last moment, your foot catches the rut in the entrance, pulling you down.

         Instead of colliding face-first with the ice, you feel as if you are flying. Viktor had caught you before you fell. Of course he had.

         “Ya tebya lyublyu,” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. With that, his lips crush into yours, neither of you giving a care about the thousands of people watching from the stands.