#starcallwriting

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Imagine Viktor prepping you for his dick for the very first time.

He wants to take you with every fibre of his being but he paces himself. He's slow. He's gentle. He pumps two fingers into you, stretching you, working you open so you have any chance of taking his cock.

"Are you sure you want this, my dear?" He asks.

You respond needily, pushing yourself further onto his fingers until he's knuckles deep, then kiss him when he leans in.

He adds a third finger. A forth. He's never used four before. You whimper as he stretches your walls, your back arching up from the mattress.

"Mmm Viktor--" you beg, gripping the sheets with one hand as the other presses against his chest to hold yourself steady. "Please. Now. I want you now, Vik-- Ah-!"

He places a kiss to your cheek, doing his best to ignore the deliciously lewd sound of squelching as his fingers prep you.

"I know, my love. I know. You're being so good-- my good girl. Just a little more. I do not want to hurt you."

"You won't." You plead, ignoring how your body barely accepts four lithe fingers as it is. He hushes you, stroking the hair away from your face.

The way you clamp around his hand has his hardon twitching against his hip. His breath is ragged but he holds onto a semblance of restraint for your sake.

He works you until your body relaxes, until you accept the pistoning movements of his fingers with ease.

Once he's satisfied you're ready, he climbs on top of you. He's willing to take the strain to his bad leg for the sake of your first time together.

He aligns himself with your entrance. He strokes his cock along your folds, smiling at your hums of approval, then pushes the tip in deep enough to free his hands.

Your body tenses immediately.

"We don't have to do this." He says, his cheeks turning ever so slightly pink at the thought of you finally acknowledging his size.

You push a long breath out through your nose, locking eyes with him.

"Viktor, I want you. I want every part of you. Please."

Your words are enough to remove his hesitation.

Bracing his arms either side of you, he pushes into you, only about an inch. You gasp at the stretch, and he's forced to take a deep breath. You feel better than he ever dared imagine. He closes his eyes with a groan, memorizing the soft heat of your walls as you pulse around him, your body trying desperately to accommodate his girth.

When he thinks you're ready, he pushes in further, until your body locks up. You gasp but it comes out strangled.

"S-stop."

Viktor stills, his weight held steady on arms accustomed to taking the strain.

"Are you alright?"

Instinctively he begins to pull out, but you grip his arm with ironclad force, digging your fingernails into his skin.

"Don't."

You barely articulate the word but your head shakes so vehemently that he stops dead.

"If I'm hurting you--"

"I can do it." You stutter quickly, determinedly. "I just-- give me a second."

Your walls grip around him so tightly that moving in either direction is too much for either of you. He holds himself still, leaning down to press gentle kisses to your parted lips.

"You're doing so well, my love. So well."

He kisses you until you relax, until the tension melts from your limbs and you nod, bumping your forehead against his to say you're ready. He pushes in further, groaning as you clench again. He rolls his hips, hissing as your fingernails threaten to draw blood.

He stays trained on your expression, waiting for any sign that you need him to stop. Your back is already arching. Your eyes are glistening with half-formed tears and your brows are pinched into a frown, but you're breathing in short, controlled breaths, willing yourself to accept him in his entirety.

"So good. My perfect girl."

He kisses you as the tip of his cock presses against something spongy deep inside you. Experimentally, he tries to go a little deeper but feels resistance. The surprised gasp that jumps from your lips confirms his need to stop.

He's so deep inside you already -- taking anything more would be too greedy.

He kisses your forehead. Your nose. Your lips. His body trembles, drowning in the pleasure of being sheathed inside you. He can feel every twitch. Every pulse. Every slight movement as your heat begins to accept him.

"You've done so well, my love." He laces his fingers with yours, holding your hand tight. "Be good for me again? You're nearly there."

He starts to pull out. You whine, anchoring your legs around his waist as your free hand covers up the discomfort on your face.

"Nearly there. Nearly there."

"Viktor, you're too--"

He pulls out entirely. You moan, taking only the briefest second to enjoy the relief before you demand he stuff himself back in immediately. He can only chuckle at your enthusiasm but hesitates to give you what you want, but you prod your heel into his back, coaxing him forwards.

"All at once," you tell him, reaching up to stroke his cheek to soothe his worries.

"If that is what you want." He agrees, leaning in to your touch. 

He adds more lube in an effort to help you. Your hand covers your mouth, an anticipatory move, then he pushes himself back inside you with one deep thrust.

You let out a strangled cry, muffling the sound behind your fingers. You tense, but Viktor pulls out then pistons himself back in, barely giving you enough time to gasp and bleat before he takes charge, rocking into you with steady precision.

For the first few thrusts, it’s all you can do to grip the mattress to hold yourself together. You feel ready to split in half. But as your body grows accustomed to the wonderful swell of his cock inside you, that discomfort turns to pleasure. Your moans become carnal. Your hands find his shoulders, kneading marks into his skin as he picks up the pace and angles his hips to find that sweet-spot inside you, his thumb finding your swollen clit with deft precision.

As soon as he starts drawing a perfect figure of eight over that sensitive bundle of nerves, he brings about your total undoing.

Barely a moan. Barely a gasp. You lose yourself, fucked and stretched to the point of breaking, then you snap. The pleasure is too much.

Viktor groans with his lips against your neck as your orgasm takes you. It's a beautiful sight, and the last thing he registers before the sweet clamp of your pussy around him sends him stuttering into his own release.

He juts into you, smiling at your overstimulated whimpers as he fills you with his load.

It’s all he can do to hold you close as you pulse around him, seemingly determined to milk him for every last drop.

Imagine spending your lazy Sunday mornings cockwarming Viktor. You're both half-asleep. He's planting soft kisses against the back of your neck, his half-mast cock snuggling inside your heat.

Gentle caresses. Large hands keeping you flush to his chest. Your hip movements eliciting quiet groans of approval, not enough to make him break the embrace and take you, but certainly enough to make his cock rouse inside you, filling you deliciously, stretching you as the morning sun creeps over the bed, with warm light tickling your skin.

Reon: The Celestial Flower

During the early days of rebuilt Zaun, Reon fell from the sky amidst a battle with Aurelion Sol. Where her blood hit the ground, special celestial flowers bloomed. She was unable to return to her realm while she was hurt, so Reon spent her time tending to the flowers. They were a part of her, so she nurtured them like her children, and in turn they grew powerful, imbued with mystical powers through her care.

As time passed, Zaun grew around her and she fell in love with the people there. She saw their struggles and their triumphs over adversity. When it was finally time for her to return home, she left her children to the people of Zaun so that they, too, could grow strong.

But in her absence, those who found the flowers grew greedy and selfish, harvesting them all in the name of progress for the city of Piltover above. Zaun began to wilt under its towering form and all hope seemed lost for its people.

When Reon could no longer stand idly by, she returned to Zaun and shed her blood again, carefully choosing the places that her flowers would bloom so that  only the worthiest Zaunites could find them.

Now Reon spends her time drifting between realms, drawn to the poor Zaunites who seek her magic in their darkest times. If they are brave enough to ingest her flowers, her precious children, she forms a familial bond with them and cares for them like her own offspring.

And woe betide anyone who harms The Celestial Flower’s precious children...

~°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°~

Well, those special flowers that Singed and Viktor fed to Rio had to come from somewhere, right? I’m running on the assumption that Shimmer is created from a combination of the flowers’ properties and Rio’s digestive tract.

Either way, when the Shimmer crisis starts, the chembarons of Zaun and the oppressive forces of Piltover are going to have one angry celestial mom on their hands!