Do You Wanna Build A Snowman? - Viktor Nikiforov x Reader

Do you wanna build a snowman? (Omake) - Teen!V.Nikiforov x Child!Reader

Work Text:

Eventually, they were caught mid-fight by what Viktor had grown to know was (Y/N)'s butler.

But that wasn't enough to ruin their fun. At least for (Y/N), it wasn't. The girl pulled him to hide behind one of the many dead trees that littered the gardens and raised a finger against her lips in a gesture of silence.

Viktor's face lit up at this and he nodded enthusiastically with a wide smile (Y/N) had feared would have to hurt for him to make.

Making another snowball, the (H/C) raised her arm as she aimed and shot her butler straight on the face before dragging him to hide behind a different tree.

The girl was chuckling as if it was the most fun she had in such a long time and the sparkle in her eyes diminished whatever stilted maturity she had in them earlier from when Viktor had first met her and the teen figured that this look of complete abandon suited the four year old girl better than anything.

It made her appear like the child she really is and Viktor found himself completely enamoured with it.

I'm fourteen, he thought as his feet desperately tried its best to catch up with the extraordinarily perky girl, their mixed laughter creating a wholesome melody he would want to skate to, screw that.

And he ran.

They managed to land exactly five snowballs on (Y/N)'s butler without being tracked down before the poor teen (who Viktor deduced to be approximately around his own age), decided to call his search off and stalk back inside with what's left of his dignity and the warmth in his body.

Then they narrowed down their little competition to landing a hit at the dead-center of the ceiling-to-floor foot tall windows that littered the floors above them.

"Winner gets to ask the loser for a favor!" Viktor was the one to propose the idea, confident that he would at least land a hit since they haven't given any restrictions to the number of balls they would each be allowed to throw.

(Y/N) nodded eagerly, "You got it!"

It went on for about half an hour, and the teen swears he could have at least landed a hit had he been given a chance.

But Yakov just had to feel the need to prove his atrocious timing by arriving the very moment one of his snowballs lands just beside (Y/N)'s on the center of one of the windows.

"Vitya!" Came his booming voice and Viktor jumps at the impending scolding his tone held. It was more forceful than usual and he knew it would both be lengthy and scalding.

Both of his hands immediately clasped behind his back as his coach stomped towards him, "Just what on earth do you think you're doing?!" He yelled and it was the teen's cue to bow his head down in a gesture of shame.

Had it been another situation -where he hadn't been caught in flagrante delicto- he would've easily laughed it off and switched the topics to skating, because no matter how Yakov would despise to admit it, Viktor excels in diversions and crawling his way out of being told off.

But such doesn't seem to be the case right now.

Viktor half-heartedly listens. Feeling guilt slowly gnaw it's way into his system as his coach continued his tirade, "Couldn't you really behave yourself even just for once, Vitya?

You're fourteen, I was expecting that you'd at least mature enough to learn some manners and act accordingly during social events like these!

But what do I see? You throwing snowballs at the windows of our host's manor!