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bonesvoid · 5 months ago

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THE BIRTH OF THE CELESTIAL REALM — A VIKTOR X PLUS-SIZED!READER SMUT FIC

word count: 5k

contains the following: nsfw (duh), unbalanced power dynamics (viktor’s technically your superior, even though you’re jayce’s personal assistant), one-off mention of breast milk (relating to the painting viktor sees in the art museum), some brief fatphobia, praise, mild degradation (the use of the word ‘slut’), wardrobe malfunction, viktor pops a boner, somewhat public sex (you and viktor are in a bathroom), primal!viktor go brrrr (horny takes over and he fucks the shit out of you), make out session, clothes get ripped off, titty sucking, dom!viktor, sub!reader, reader is fem but you can ignore the pronouns if need be, blowjob, deepthroating, facefucking, facesitting, pussy eating champ!viktor, czech terms of endearment, viktor got that casanova in him, minor breath play?, too many uses of pussy/cunt/dick/cunt but you’ll never catch author using ‘manhood’ or ‘puss’ as replacements, doggy style, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, and a surprise post-credit scene at the end ;3

summary: viktor was never a fan of art. however, he decides to give it a shot after failing to solve a series of seemingly impossible equations by visiting the grand museum of art in piltover… only for a glimpse of a particular painting among the piltovian renaissance art pieces to leave him frazzled and confusingly aroused. it doesn’t help that you, jayce’s personal assistant and newest member to the hextech team, are a perfect match to the beauty depicted.

a/n: strap the fuck it, lads laddies and lassos… we’re taking a trip to viktor pound town (please reblog or comment if you can, this is my magus opus)

The Grand Museum of Art, one of Piltover’s premiere museums, was stationed directly outside Jayce Talis and Viktor’s laboratory. One would think that Viktor had no interest in art, too engrossed in making scientific discoveries to entertain such often trivial subjects. Yet, unbeknownst to many, Viktor frequented that museum on days his mind was muddled with unsolvable equations and failed prototypes launches. What better remedy was there for stuck-in-the-mud science than immersing oneself in the wonders of art?

However, the first time the inventor visited the museum, he worried that he made a mistake. Modern paintings and sculptures littered the front half of the museum; in Viktor’s eyes, they were sorry excuses for art. What was so thought provoking about a banana taped to the ceiling?

“Not a fan of the modern pieces?” a nearby museum employee asked Viktor. The Zaunite tore his gaze from a painting on various black and blue rectangles to answer the employee, “I, eh.. I’m afraid that I’m not.”

“We have a lot better pieces towards the back of the museum,” the employee gestured towards the hallway behind them, “I recommend the section on the Piltovian Renaissance, let me show you,” with a silent nod, Viktor followed the employee towards the recommended section, the end tip of his crutch thumping softly against the museum’s marble floors.

Viktor scanned the various art pieces they passed by. Some were interesting with their use of medium or color while others left a sour impression with their lack of depth. It wasn’t long until they reached the far back portion of the museum, a golden plaque highlighting the words ‘Piltovian Renaissance’ in delicate script by the entrance to the next section. The employee gave Viktor a smile, “I hope you enjoy!” and skittered off to help another patron.

“Piltovian Renassiance,” the inventor mumbled while he adjusted his hold on his crutch. He vaguely encountered the term during his early academy days when he had to take a mandatory art class. Viktor didn’t remember much about it, other than how monotonous and uninterested the professor of that class was, “Let’s see what you have to offer.”

The section reflected the earlier days of the museum, the flooring and walls relics of the past with their aged appearances. A few other patrons perused about the floor, as Viktor strolled up to the first painting by the section’s entrance. The painting was broken into three vertical columns with the largest column showcasing a variety of green and blue hues, people and animals alike scattered about what Viktor could only assume to be Runeterra. His eyes darted to the column left of the largest, much more vibrant and simplistic in its design with only a few people and animals present. He then turned his attention to the rightmost column, the greens and blues replaced by dark colors and the imagery was nothing but suffering and damnation upon its subjects.

“A fan of Bosch, aren’t you?” the jubilant voice of an older woman greeted Viktor. A woman with greying hair and designer clothes waltzed up next to him, a small unfortunate-looking dog shaking in her open purse, “An excellent choice to admire, indeed! What might your view on it be, young man?”

“Eh,” the Zaunite was by no means an art critic nor did he consider himself to be an art enjoyer yet, “It’s, uhm… very vibrant,” he eyed the painting once more, “I like the use of symmetry.”

Despite his lackluster response, the female patron was delighted to hear his views, “As do I! I must say that Hieronymus Bosch’s The Garden of Runeterran Delights is one of his more prudish yet thought-provoking pieces. Many critics believe this piece to be a depiction of our choices in the afterlife, one vibrant and peaceful and the other dark and violent,” she let out a boisterous laugh and her poor dog yelped in response, “Reminds you of the division between Piltover and the Undercity, does it not?”

Viktor bit his bottom lip, “I suppose so,” That’s enough, go away now, you unsightly- “It’s an interesting piece,” Don’t rip her head off with your crutch.

“Indeed!” the woman chirped, “Well, you enjoy your time here, dear. Have a splendid day,” and walked off to go bother someone else. Viktor prayed to Janna for the freedom of that dog trapped in their owners’ clutches.

Viktor tried his best to keep an open but not science heavy mind towards the art, as he shuffled to and from various paintings and sculptures. The works presented in the Piltovian Renaissance collection were much more appealing to the eye than the sorry excuses for art the modern collection had to offer. After examining a sculpture of a Yordle—the inventor swore that the Yordle depicted looked identical to Professor Hemingdinger—shaking hands with a taller person, Viktor searched for a bench and sat down on the closest one, resting his weary body upon it. He laid his crutch next to him and rubbed his eyes, exhaustion evident with his under bags heavier than yesterday. The patrons in front of the bench dissipated a moment or two after Viktor took his seat and showcased a new art piece he hadn’t yet seen.

A painting, just like the many previous ones Viktor saw that day. Its background showcased a night sky full of gorgeous constellations and fluffy clouds. A pondering man sat behind a golden chariot carted by a pair of geese, his skin tan and the lower half of his body covered by blue fabric. Certainly more detailed than the other paintings, Viktor mused to himself, as he savored each component of the painting. He made contact with the subject of the piece and suddenly choked on his own spit, stifling back his coughs.

The subject of the painting featured a woman—a naked woman—adoring a long white veil and golden jewelry. Only her pussy—no, pussy was too crude for this masterpiece—her womanhood and one of her legs were covered by flowing red fabric. Viktor’s gaze locked in an oddity she saw around the woman’s breasts, her hand squeezing one and shooting— Oh my Gods, is THAT breast milk?

Sure enough, it was indeed breast milk, a stream of it being squeezed out from the woman’s breast. The chubby baby who sat upon her clothed thigh reached its hand out to the woman’s breast. His face growing redder by the minute, Viktor quickly glanced at the plaque behind the painting, The Birth of the Celestial Realm by Peter Paul Rubens, and made a swift retreat from the Piltovian Renaissance section of the museum.

Viktor’s mind was filled with nothing but scandalous thoughts, as he walked back to the lab. With each attempt to get back on track with a new equation or problem to solve, it always ended in Viktor visualizing the woman in that painting. By the time he returned to the lab, pink had overtaken the inventor’s usual pale face, enough so that—when Viktor returned to his workstation next to Jayce—his partner commented on it, “Hey Viktor, why are you so pink?”

“It’s cold outside.”

“It’s April.”

“I’m operating under worse bodily conditions than you, so zip it.”

“Okay, okay!”

Viktor let out a low ‘tsk’ and zoned back in on his work, as he examined the leftover blueprints for the next phase of Hextech works. A nose hair trimmer? Is Jayce— “Mr. Talis!” a voice akin to honeysuckles and lavender caught Viktor’s attention. Besides Jayce’s workstation, you, Jayce’s personal assistant, approached with a dossier in one hand and a steaming cup of coffee in the other.

Since Viktor and Jayce had engineered so many improvements and inventions for Piltover, the Council rewarded them with a budgetary increase and money set aside to hire an additional staff member so each inventor could have a personal assistant. Viktor wasn’t confident that the new assistant could get his schedule and needs as right as Sky did, so Jayce offered to take on whoever was hired.

You were a recent graduate from the Academy, five or so years junior to the likes of Viktor and Jayce, and hailed from one of the less-known Houses in Piltover, responsible for overseeing Piltover’s fishing sector. Your name would come up a few times in conversation whenever Jayce forced Viktor to attend a gala or “charity event” held by the Council. You were praised for your intellect, strive for justice, and respect, but more off than not, the members of the upper Piltovian crust were more than willing to speak ill of your name.

Such a plump girl, don’t you think? I fear that she may never find a husband.

Oh, yes, I’m afraid that I must agree. Perhaps, we can convince her mother to lighten up on her portions.

Did you hear that she has to get her dressed altered by a beauty parlor in the Undercity?!

What, really? What a scandal!

Eventually, he would see the owner of that name—you, better dressed than the gossiping women who thought feathers were in fashion—come around and the nobles would plaster on fake smiles and hearty laughs until you moved to a different part of the ballroom.

The Piltovian Houses’ obsession with your appearance was maddening. Upon the few times he interacted with you prior to your arrival as Jayce’s assistant, he could see your strength, your determination, and your passion. The way you spoke about the Undercity was always respectful, correctly referring to it as Zaun and mentioning on occasion how you were convincing your father to partner with Zaun’s fishing businesses to advance equality and equity between the two cities. Compared to the snobbish Piltovians, Zaunites valued fatness; being fat meant you had food, it meant you were strong enough to stand your ground.

Although Viktor wasn’t too key on physical attitudes dominating how relationships were structured, he wasn’t afraid to admit that you were pretty. Your personality and your ambitions accentuated your beauty, but Viktor also found your face to be just as gorgeous. The way you smiled, the spark in your eyes, how your cheeks resembled fresh apples, highlighted the overall appeal of your face. Yet, given the wedge between you two’s stations and the professional boundaries in place, Viktor didn’t think of you more than a kind and pretty coworker of his, someone who would get coffee with or chat about subjects of fancy like physics. Nothing more, nothing less, he was your superior and that was it.

Unfortunately, all of that was thrown out the window today.

Viktor mimicked some tinkering on a miscellaneous project, his eyes fixated on whatever interaction was occurring between you and Jayce. You handed your superior the dossier and informed him of the new projects that the Council was interested in. Jayce flipped through the papers and shook his head, mumbling something about the stupidity of Councilor Salo’s suggestions.

“I also got your coffee, courtesy of Madam Lincove at the café!” you held out the cup of coffee for Jayce to take, “Thank you,” he reached for the cup, fingers barely grazing it, when it suddenly slipped from both of your hands, “Shit!” Jayce successfully caught the cup of coffee before it hit the floor, but not at the expense of casualties.

The sound of a splash, followed by a yelp of pain, echoed throughout the lab. Instead of the floor, most of the coffee landed on your red blouse, darkening the fabric in its wake. Viktor jumped to his feet, which was a bad idea because he nearly fell, when you ran out of the lab and dashed through the hallway. Without a word to Jayce, the inventor left the lab and onto the path you took.

Viktor heard a series of curses coming from the bathroom. There you are. He knocked on the door and called out to you, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes!” you yelled back, “Everything is- oh, fuck!” Without a second thought, Viktor twisted the door knob, you forgot to lock it, and the door swung open, “Are you okay?!” he shouted, his expression frazzled.

You stood frozen in front of the bathroom mirror, a bundle of paper towels in your hands. Lowering your hands, the problem was revealed.

The top buttons of your blouse popped off, exposing your bra and cleavage. A simple black bra held your breasts together. Viktor couldn’t help but stare, eyes as big as saucers, “Oh. I, eh-” he stammered, unable to break his gaze. Instinctively, you dropped the paper towels and covered your chest, “Pl- Please don’t stare!”

“I’m so sorry,” the inventor apologized. A million thoughts raced around his mine, as Viktor attempted to regain his composure. You turned your back to him and mumbled something about needing a sewing kit. Viktor’s attention landed on your ass, the curve and plumpness highlighted by your pencil skirt. His pulse quickened and his palms began to sweat. What am I, a teenage boy seeing a girl for the first time?! Viktor scolded himself.

“Viktor,” you faced the Zaunite once more, hands still concealing your large chest, “Viktor, why do you-” you swallowed a good amount of spit, your eyes fixated on Viktor’s… lower half? “Viktor, why do you have a hard on?”

“What?” Viktor peered down at his trousers. Sure enough, he pitched a tent, his boner on full display. Like you with your chest, he covered his hands to hide his erection, “Oh my Gods, I’m so fucking sorry,” How unprofessional, how lewd, how inappropriate, how—

The Birth of the Celestial Realm appeared in Viktor’s head at the worst possible moment. He thought of the woman in the painting; he thought of how mesmerizing her fat rolls and thighs, how full and large her breasts were, how she posed in such a delightful manner. Viktor stifled back a moan and his cheeks reddened, as his cock strained against his suddenly suffocating trousers.

“Viktor,” the way his name rolled off your tongue sent shivers down his artificial spine, “Why are you looking at me like that?” you inquired, your eyes resembling that of an innocent doe.

“Like- Like what?” Viktor asked, walking over to the sink and using it as a shield for his obvious arousal. You frowned, “Like you wanna devour me whole.”

Something primal clicked in Viktor’s mind at your comment. Slowly, he stepped to the side of the sink and walked towards you, setting his crutch against the bathroom wall. You tilted your head, “Viktor? Whatcha doing?” Gods, you were pure as snow.

Viktor suddenly gripped your sides and squeezed hard, a yelp of shock escaping your red painted lips, “Viktor!” you exclaimed, “What has gotten into you?!”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized again, his accent thick. You clenched your thighs together at the sound. Viktor’s accent never failed to make your heart skip a beat. In all honesty, you had a bit of a crush on the Zaunite. You admired his work ethic, determination, and resilience, as well as his sharp facial features and hands. Yet, he was your superior, it would be wrong to engage in such a—

Viktor smashed his lips against yours, nearly knocking his crooked teeth into your mouth. You moaned at how deep and lustful his kissing was, as you wrapped your arms around Viktor’s waist as a means to secure him. While the two of you kissed like horny teens ready for their first time, you stepped backwards and backwards until your back was pressed up against the wall.

For a moment, Viktor broke the kiss, “I can’t help myself,” he confessed. His hands moved from your chubby sides to your breasts. With astonishing strength, Viktor tore your blouse open, the remaining buttons flying off and hitting the floor. You gasped, “Oh my Gods,” you never knew that Viktor had such upper body strength.

Viktor pulled you off the wall and, in one swift motion, unhooked your bra. He tossed it on the floor and groped at your chest, his hands a bit too small to fully cover them. Viktor groaned, as he marveled at your chest, almost salivating at the sight. The Birth of the Celestial Realm flashed through his mind again and Viktor pressed his forehead against yours, “I need you,” he whispered, “I need you.”

“Viktor…” you whispered back, your breath tickling the Zaunite’s ear, “Make me yours.”

The honey amber in Viktor’s eyes darkened at your command. Grabbing his crutch, he dragged you off to the unoccupied bathroom and slammed the door shut. Viktor plopped his ass down on the toilet as a makeshift chair and gripped your breasts, “I’ll make you mine,” he jerked one breast towards his face and latched onto the nipple, sucking hard and without shame. You whimpered and moved closer, both breasts squashed against Viktor’s face, “Oh, sweet boy, you’re sucking me so good!” you cried out. Viktor’s mouth vibrated against your sensitive nipple in response, earning another moan from you.

Gods, your skin is so supple and tender, Viktor thought to himself, as his hand reached towards your other breast and clenched it. You panted and moaned shamelessly, as Viktor assaulted your chest with playful grasps and hickeys galore. Your mind was hazy with arousal and desperation. This was a true come dream, something you never pictured happening. The two of you crossed a line that you could never backtrack from.

“Viktor…!” you whined, pushing him off your breasts, “I want you, I wanna please you,” you got on your knees, your thick thighs pressed together, “Please, please let me pleasure you, please.”

“How can I say no to such an angel?” the scientist purred. He hopped off the toilet seat and laid down on the bathroom tiles, he would need to sanitize his clothes at a later time, “Suck my cock, slut,” Oh, that was bold.

You wasted no time in unbuttoning Viktor’s trousers and pulling down his boxers. Staring at Viktor’s pretty cock, you admired its appearance. Pale, slightly vein, a bit thick, and definitely long. Guess it’s true that the tall skinny guys have massive cocks. Your mouth watered at the sight and you leaned forward to give the mushroom tip a gentle kiss.

Viktor moaned under his breath and his dick twitched in satisfaction. You giggled, “You’re so cute,” before lowering your mouth onto his cock. Viktor grunted loudly, panting hard as you took more and more inches in your mouth. You looked divine, you looked ethereal, as you sucked him off. Spit spilled down your lips while your head bobbed with the motions of the blowjobs. You swore you went cross-eyed from the sensation of Viktor’s sweet dick in your mouth. The scent of his cologne, an intoxicating mix of vanilla and bourbon, was enough to water down your mind with pure filth.

While you continued to slurp and drink up the inventor’s essence, you adjusted your position and hitched your ass up, spreading your legs open. One of your hands teased your clothed cunt, rubbing your fingers against your panties. In your new position, you were able to take more of Viktor in your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

You felt a pair of bony hands grip at your hair before you were pulled off Viktor’s cock, “Oh, are we-” you tried to ask if he needed a break, only to have your lips slammed back down on his dick. Viktor fucked your face without remorse, a crescendo of moans and groans filling the bathroom while you fought the instinct to gag. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me! your mind chanted like a prayer.

Viktor let out one last grunt and climaxed, shooting a thick rope of cum down your throat. Once finished, he pulled you off his cock and you coughed, some cum leaking out of your mouth. Momma didn’t raise no spitter, you happily took whatever cum the inventor had to offer. Viktor’s hands cupped your face, thumbs caressing your apple-y cheeks, “Oh, kokoušek, you did amazing.”

“Thanks!” your voice was raspy, your throat properly fucked, “Anything for you, Viktor,” the Zaunite graced you with a smile and your body shivered with excitement. He has a great smile. “Lay down,” he instructed you. Like the obedient bitch you were, you did as commanded, switching positions with Viktor and resting your back on the floor, “It’s time that I return the favor,” he mewled, lifting up your skirt and hooking his fingers around the waistband of your tights. Viktor tugged down and removed your tights, taking a moment to admire your strong thighs and the stretch marks he could on your lower stomach, “Simply divine,” he cooed before taking off your skirt, leaving you almost completely naked, minus your lacy cherry panties.

“Oh!” you reached your hands down in an effort to cover yourself up, a force of habit, only to have your hands pinned to the floor, Viktor’s body hovering above you, “No.”

The power from the simple ‘no’ went straight to your cunt, staining your panties with wetness, “Don’t hide from me,” he purred, hot breath tickling your face, “You’re sexy,” he kissed your forehead.

“You’re talented,” he kissed your nose.

“You’re beautiful,” a kiss on your cheek.

“You’re intelligent,” a kiss on the other cheek.

“You’re brilliant,” a kiss to your lips, the longest out of all the kisses, as he lingered. You ran your fingers through his dark waves, combing any knots out and twirling a few strands. Viktor let out a laugh, vibrating against your lips, and pulled himself away, “You’re radiant,” he murmured, “A work of art.”

“As are you,” you gave the scientist a peck on the nose, “Like one of those sculptures from the Piltovian Renaissance.”

Viktor nearly choked on his own saliva, much to your concern, “Are you okay?” you asked with a frown. He nodded, “Yes, yes. It was just surprising to hear so, given that I visited that section in the Grand Museum of Art earlier today.”

“Oh, what a coincidence,” you offered Viktor an innocent, oblivious smile. Gods, you were going to be the death of him, but Viktor much preferred to die at your hands than at his illness, “Oh, drahoušku, indulge me for a moment,” to which you replied, “Anything for you.”

“Sit on my face.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Sit on my face, so I can eat you out.”

“Won’t I suffocate you if I do?”

“Out of all the ways I could die, I rather go out while devouring your warm, wet cunt.”

You blinked rapidly, his words somewhat crude but made your pussy flutter, “Okay then,” you sat back up and Viktor laid back down, planting your thighs between his face like ear muffs, “Are you sure-” you had no time to ask for confirmation when Viktor roughly slammed your cunt against his whole face, hooked nose bumping into your swollen clit while he lapped at your juices like a starved man. You tried so desperately to hold back your moans and cries of pleasure, but succumbed to the frenzy of it all when Viktor dug his nails into your plush thighs as a sign to sing like the siren you were.

“Oh, Vik- Viktor, fuck!” you exclaimed, as the Zaunite greedily ate you out, “Feels so good, so good!” Viktor shifted from your folds to your clit, giving it a harsh suck to test the waters. After hearing your unadulterated whines of ecstasy, Viktor latched on hard to your clit and suckled on it, your juices coating his chin. You thrust your hips, as you rode Viktor’s face without a care in the world. As for Viktor, being suffocated by your cunt was simply marvelous, his eyes rolling in the back of his head from the depleting oxygen. With each thrust, you gained more and more pleasure from the motion and the sucking and the—

You let out a sudden mewl, the knot in your tummy breaking and unleashing an intense orgasm. Your climax drenched Viktor’s whole face in pussy juice, as your clit pulsated inside his mouth. Viktor pulled off from your cunt and moved you towards his neck, content with having your thighs between his ears, “You taste like ambrosia,” Viktor panted, chin and mouth shining with your slick. Who knew that he had a way with words?

“So glad,” you rubbed your eyes and blinked a few times in an effort to recenter your surroundings, “So, so, so nice,” you began collecting your messy clothes when Viktor placed a hand on your ass, “We’re not done yet.”

“We’re not?” you asked with curiosity. Viktor touched his forehead to yours before giving you a peck on the lips, “Not until I feel you inside me.”

You quaked at his answer, so matter-of-fact and domineering. Viktor gave your ass a solid slap, smiling at how it jiggled upon contact, “On your hands and knees, ass up.”

“What about your leg?” you questioned him. Viktor waved you off with some reassurance, “You’re worth it, I’ll just take extra pain medicine later,” he discarded his remaining clothes, joining you in full nude glory. You positioned yourself the way he requested, hands and knees on the cold bathroom floor. Viktor groped at your ass and placed hot kisses from your neck all the way to the dimples near your butt, “Addictive,” he muttered, “You’re driving me mad.”

“Have your way with me,” you cooed to the Zaunite, “I’m all yours.”

It took everything in Viktor’s power not to shove his fat cock right into your pussy, “I’ll go in slow and just give me the okay when to move,” you gave him a thumbs up in reply. Something smooth—the tip of Viktor’s dick—touched your entrance and your toes curled in anticipation. Slowly, Viktor inserted himself inside you and, as gently as he could, slid the entirety of his length in one inch at a time. You groaned at the sensation, you never felt so full before, “Fuck… okay, I’m ready.”

Viktor gripped your sides, as he moved in and out of your cunt at a careful pace. His tip lightly kissed your cervix with each soft thrust, your body submitting itself to the handsome man behind you. Yet, you wanted more and you were patient, “Viktor, please! Faster and deeper, I wanna be fucked!” you whined, “I wanna be claimed by you!”

Adrenaline spiked inside of Viktor, as he pulled all the way out of you before mercilessly slamming his entire length back inside. You yelped like a wounded puppy, but any pain morphed into intense pleasure, as Viktor pounded your pussy like a madman. He huffed and puffed while his pelvis smacked against your ass, his mind clouded with an urge so deeply instilled in every human being.

The need to breed.

“Fuck!” he grunted, his grasp on your sides tightening, “I can’t believe I’m fucking my beautiful junior. I bet you never thought this moment would happen, huh?” his cock abused your cervix with each thrust, “I didn’t think so either, but fuck, you unlocked something in me that I didn’t know existed,” your superior lowered one hand from your hip and onto one of your breasts.

“I want you, I need you, I need to fill up your pretty cunt with my seed-” The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed off the bathroom walls.

“I have to make that tummy of yours all round and taut-” Your head bobbed to the rhythm of Viktor’s thrusts.

“You want that, don’t you? To have my kid, right? Oh, I think you would be an amazing mother-” each smack from Viktor into your cunt forced a moan out of you.

“Can I cum inside you? Please?” Viktor sounded so needy and pathetic, hungry to satisfy his urges, “Gods, please say yes, I need it, please!” he begged.

“You can!” you sobbed, tears of rapture rolling down your fat cheeks, “Knock me up, sir! I need it, too!”

With one last guttural moan, Viktor emptied his load inside you, coating it in hot sticky seed. You clenched down on his cock and milked every last drop out, much to Viktor’s delight. Soon, he finished up inside of you and pulled out, some of the white creamy liquid pouring out of your fucked out pussy. Viktor shoved his fingers inside and you let out a wanton gasp, “I can’t allow any to leak out,” he rasped. You tilted your hips up to prevent any more cum from spilling out, relishing in the feeling of a cum-filled pussy.

Once satisfied, Viktor removed his fingers from your cunt and wiped any cum on his thigh. You collapsed down on the bathroom floor and flipped yourself onto your back, utterly shattered from such intense sex. Viktor joined you on the floor and latched his spindly body onto yours, partaking in your soft warmth. You returned the Zaunite display of affection to Viktor, touching your forehead briefly against his, “That was… just… wow,” there were no words in the English language that could properly describe how incredible you felt.

Viktor snuggled closer into you, “Wow, indeed,” he sighed aloud, “We must do this again in the future.”

“Oh, yeah?” you couldn’t help but grin, “Not a one-time thing, huh?”

“Not after I got a slice of the heavens from you.”

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

Outside the bathroom, a familiar muscular man stood guard, shooting passerbys a sheepish look whenever their eyes perked up at the sound of the moans and such from inside the bathroom. Jayce held a spare sweater in his hands, he had run to assist you after Viktor. It was the gentleman’s thing to do, he did spill coffee on you and ruin your blouse.

Instead, the sweater acted as a makeshift barrier to hide his boner, too large to be concealed by hands alone, as Jayce unfortunately overheard the entire exchange between you and Viktor.

Guess me and V do have the same type, maybe I’ll get a chance in the future.

#hexb0nes writes #arcane #league of legends #arcane viktor #arcane jayce #arcane viktor x reader #arcane jayce x reader #arcane viktor smut #arcane viktor x reader smut

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