jayce with fem reader first time being so embarassed about his cock size because he thinks it’s small but it’s actually huge.
he’s pathetically rutting into you whilst you praise him for having such a big and pretty cock!!! -🫧
▶︎ TOO BIG? | he’s just so big that it drives you insane…
▶︎ OKAY BUT ACTUALLY — this awakened something in me ngl. so much so that i’m ignoring my 10+ other drafts to write it but i didn’t say that… also i’m so sorry for how inactive i’ve been, writer’s block sucks ass. i really love all of you!! ❤️❤️💋
“oh my god, jay— fuck, mmh, so b-big—!”
your pussy is drooling around the thick cock fucking into it, walls fluttering against every wet drag n’ slide of the searing flesh. jayce had been so bashful before, mumbling and stuttering over himself about how “unsatisfying” his cock may be —
yet here he was, pounding straight into your stomach and fucking you up in every way — you were going dumb on the biggest cock you’d ever fucking seen, ears full of his ragged pants and grunts as he snaps his hips into yours painfully.
unsatisfying. bullshit. there was nothing unsatisfying about jayce talis’ pretty cock.
“so good, jay, fuck, you’re splitting me in half.” you whine out, head lolling back and shaky ankles locking at his lower back. his heavy balls smack into your ass with every powerful thrust, twitching and spasming against the flesh — he’s so thick that your walls are bruising, spread open and battered in the best way.
“god, i-i — feels so good, ‘m goin’ crazy,” jayce responds back, words breathy and pitched, punctuated by slick squelches from your pussy. his nails dig crescents into your plush thighs as he holds you up with incomparable strength, body weight only slightly supported by the desk beside you.
“me too,” you pant, grappling at his shoulders with liquified hands. “your cock is so fucking good, jay — fucks my pussy so good, fuck, don’t stop.”
jayce’s breath shudders in his lungs and his cock kicks inside your walls, your filthy words affecting him viscerally — his hips stutter ever so slightly, thrusts turning sloppy for a fraction of time; but then he’s kicking it into gear again, fucking into your sloppy pussy so fast and hard you start to see stars.
“fuck, yes! jus’ like that, jay, fuckin’ ruin me,” you mewl, drool slipping past your lip to cool against your chin. it feels so fuckin’ good; it’s intense and almost overwhelming, the feeling of being stuffed full over and over shoving a thick fog into your head and stealing your coherency completely; almost complete dumbification.
“shit i— god, you sound so sexy, ‘m not sure if i can l-last,” jayce nearly whimpers, movements sloppier than before. the kicking of his cock is consistent now, heralding a spiraling approach of his orgasm.
if you were being honest, this knowledge didn’t even disappoint you like it would have with your previous partners; on the contrary, the thought of feeling cum shoot out of his huge cock had you trembling inside.
“‘s okay, jay— jus’ keep fuckin’ me, don’t stop fuckin’ me— fuck me ‘til you cum. fill me up, jay, i want it; wanna feel this beautiful cock mess me up—!”
“shit! oh, my god, fuck, okay — please, talk to me more, tell me how good it feels, please —!”
despite the fog in your head, jayce’s plea had something clicking within it; mr. talis harbors a huge praise kink. aww, that’s so adorable.
“it feels so good, jay.” you coo, a little slurred, train of thought bouncing around with each harsh thrust inside your sloppy pussy. “your cock fucks me so good. so big and pretty, fuck, you’re amazing, jay — ‘m goin’ crazy, i love your cock.”
your ability to speak at all is completely robbed when jayce readjusts his grip on your thighs and angles his hips — and the most guttural, lewd yelp tears through your throat when he begins to slam into your body hard and fast. much harder and faster than before.
“god, pretty pussy, such a good pussy, feels s’good and tight — god, my dick feels like it’s bein’ choked, s’good—!”
you can’t even fully register jayce’s babbling through the ringing in your ears; your pussy feels as though it’s being savagely rearranged, cervix sore from countless assaults — he’s using you like some sort of toy, fucking into you for his pleasure alone.
and it feels so fucking good.
the only sounds you can produce are moans and mewls, but it’s incentive enough for jayce to continue to rut into you. there was a familiar tension building in your gut, one that became more and more intense with each shove of his cock into your walls — fuck, you were going to cum soon.
“jay— gon’a cum,” you force out, eyes rolling back and muscles melting. if jayce heard you, he didn’t answer back; not verbally, at least. but his hips did pick up even more speed, fucking you so brutally that it knocked your breath from your lungs.
“fuck—!” was the only thing you managed to yelp out before your orgasm crashed through your body, swollen clit forming its own heartbeat as it throbbed to the eddying waves of pleasure. the ringing in your ears was so loud now, overtaking every other sound in the room.
even jayce’s growl of “‘m comin’!” as his hips stuttered once, then twice, before he buried himself deep inside your cunt and stilled — thick ropes splattered hot against your walls, so copious that you could feel it leak out around jayce’s cock and slip down your ass.
by the time the ringing in your ears ceased, jayce had already come down from his high for the most part. you fluttered open eyes that you have no remembrance of closing only to find jayce staring at you with worry.
“are you okay?” he asks, voice strained and thick, and you can’t help but smile at him dopily.
“never better.” you murmur, body still tingling from aftershocks.
how the hell jayce could have ever thought of his cock as “unsatisfying” was a mystery you weren’t sure you could solve.
My princess with a disorder🥹
Also heres the full list of maladies by popular request
you simply just dont get the hype😔
if anything yall are werid
🤜🤛
WHEN ON PERIOD:
do not crash out
your feelings are NOT valid
do not send that text
don't kill yourself. lock in
do not act on negative emotions until at least 2 days have elapsed
I FUCKING LOVE HIM.
•A compliment
•A story
•Why you follow me
•A cute message
•One thing you want to tell me
•One thing you want to know about me
Little spoon Talis❤️
after almost decade of using AO3, i have just found out that you can put it on dark mode.
NO MORE BEING BLINDED BY FICS
it should be illegal to take a nap and still have a headache when you wake up. like no i shut it off and back on again why are you still here
Hear ye! I have a request my liege, how about a fem reader trying to win over viktor multiple times but fails all attempts until it is revealed he does in fact reciprocate🤭
✰⍣..𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬-𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠. 𝐀𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞, 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧.
𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨 𝐦𝐥 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐱𝐱
You were nothing if not persistent.
Viktor was sharp, focused, and hopelessly oblivious to the fact that you were doing everything in your power to win him over. It wasn’t that he was cold—far from it. He was kind in that absentminded, half-listening way of a man too buried in his work to notice the very obvious signs of affection right in front of him.
And so, you tried. Again. And again.
Attempt #1: The Lunch Offer
Your first plan was simple: food.
You had spent hours preparing something special, something homemade, something that you knew he’d like. You weren’t the best cook, but you had carefully followed every step of the recipe, determined to impress him.
Approaching his workspace, you cleared your throat, balancing the carefully wrapped meal in your hands.
“Viktor?”
He didn’t look up. His fingers twitched slightly as he adjusted the mechanism he was working on, the dim light of the laboratory casting sharp shadows along his face. His brow was furrowed in thought, lips parted slightly as if he were mid-calculation.
You tried again.
“Viktor, I made lunch for you.”
That got his attention. He blinked, finally shifting his gaze toward you. His golden eyes flickered between you and the carefully packed meal in your hands.
“You did?”
You nodded enthusiastically, setting it down on his cluttered desk. “Yeah! I figured you probably haven’t eaten much today, so I thought I’d bring you something homemade.”
A pause. Viktor regarded the meal with mild curiosity before offering you a small, appreciative smile. “That’s thoughtful of you, thank you.”
Your heart skipped a beat. Progress.
But then— Without hesitation, Viktor picked up his fork, poked at the food once, then twice, before taking a single bite. He chewed slowly, his expression unreadable.
Your fingers curled anxiously. “So? What do you think?”
“…It’s interesting,” he said diplomatically.
Your stomach dropped. “Interesting?”
He hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “I appreciate the effort.”
You deflated.
“I might have miscalculated the salt,” you admitted sheepishly.
Viktor, ever the gentleman, coughed lightly. “Ah, yes. A bit… potent.”
You buried your face in your hands. “Okay, okay, I get it! It’s bad, isn’t it?”
He chuckled, nudging the plate slightly away but still offering you a kind smile. “Not bad. Just… an acquired taste.”
You groaned. First attempt: failure.
Attempt #2: The Book Gift
You knew Viktor loved books. It was one of the few things that could pull his attention away from his work—albeit briefly.
So, you found a rare book on Hextech theories and wrapped it neatly, tying a ribbon around it for good measure.
You waited until he was in a rare moment of relaxation—well, as close to relaxation as Viktor ever got. He was seated at his desk, flipping through his notes with a cup of tea beside him.
Perfect timing.
“Viktor,” you called softly, holding out the book.
He turned, glancing at you before his gaze landed on the package in your hands. “What’s this?”
“A gift,” you said, smiling. “I thought you might like it.”
His brow furrowed slightly, curiosity shining in his eyes as he reached for the book. He unwrapped it carefully, the ribbon slipping off with ease. When he saw the title, his lips parted in surprise.
“You found this?”
You grinned. “I did! It took some effort, but I figured you’d love it.”
For a moment, he seemed genuinely touched. His fingers traced the spine of the book as he flipped through the first few pages, skimming the text.
“Oh, this is the outdated version.”
Your smile froze. “…What?”
Viktor tilted his head slightly, scanning the pages. “This edition was published before Heimerdinger updated his findings on Hextech decay rates. The later editions corrected a few errors in the theory, particularly in chapters three and five.”
You stared.
He looked up, noticing your expression. “…Not that I don’t appreciate it!” he added quickly. “It’s a thoughtful gift, truly. I will still read it.”
You sighed dramatically. “I was trying to impress you, you know.”
Viktor blinked. “Impress me?”
“Yes! And instead, I gave you an outdated book!”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “It’s not about the edition. It’s the effort that counts.”
You folded your arms. “So I failed, huh?”
His lips quirked up. “Not at all. You are very persistent.”
Not exactly the answer you wanted, but you supposed it wasn’t a complete loss.
Attempt #3: The Stargazing Invitation
This time, you were going for romance.
You had set up a small spot on the Academy’s rooftop, a cozy little corner with blankets, pillows, and even a small lantern to give off a warm glow. The sky was clear, the stars bright. It was the perfect atmosphere.
Now all you needed was Viktor.
Dragging him away from his work had been no easy task. He had resisted at first, insisting he had equations to finish and calibrations to check, but you had practically pulled him by the arm, determined.
When you finally reached the rooftop, you gestured grandly. “Tada!”
Viktor looked around, brow raised. “…You brought me here to sit on the ground?”
You huffed. “Not just sit—stargaze. Relax. Take a break.”
He hesitated before carefully lowering himself onto the blankets. His cane rested beside him as he leaned back, gaze flickering toward the night sky.
You watched him closely. “What do you think?”
He was quiet for a long moment, then finally spoke. “…It’s peaceful.”
Success!
Encouraged, you scooted closer. “I thought you could use a moment to breathe. You work too hard.”
Viktor hummed, seemingly considering your words. “Perhaps you are right.”
You turned your head to look at him, the glow of the lantern casting soft shadows along his sharp features. He looked beautiful like this—lost in thought, his golden eyes reflecting the starlight.
Heart pounding, you gathered your courage. “Viktor… can I ask you something?”
He glanced at you, intrigued. “Of course.”
You swallowed. “Have you ever… thought about taking a break? Not just from work, but from everything. Spending time with someone. Maybe… me?”
Viktor blinked.
Then, with all the grace of a man absolutely oblivious—
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to burden you with that,” he said sincerely.
You stared.
He continued, oblivious to the weight of your question. “My work is demanding, and I would not want you to feel neglected. Relationships require time and attention, and I would hate for you to be disappointed.”
You nearly groaned out loud.
For a man as brilliant as Viktor, he could be painfully clueless.
With a resigned sigh, you flopped back onto the blanket, staring up at the stars. Another attempt, another failure.
—
You weren’t expecting much when you walked into the lab that evening.
In fact, you were expecting nothing at all.
After weeks of trying—pouring your heart into homemade meals, thoughtful gifts, and starry rooftop nights—you had resigned yourself to the truth: Viktor either didn’t notice your feelings, or he didn’t want to notice them.
And honestly? You were tired.
You had been visiting him less and less, not completely avoiding him, but pulling back just enough to protect yourself. You still cared—you would always care—but unrequited love wasn’t something you could keep torturing yourself with.
So when you stepped into the lab that night, you told yourself you were just here for work. Nothing else.
Jayce and Viktor were deep in conversation when you entered. Jayce stood by Viktor’s desk, arms crossed, an amused smirk playing on his lips. Viktor, seated, was scribbling something furiously in his notebook, barely acknowledging his friend’s presence.
They both turned when they saw you.
“Oh, hey!” Jayce greeted, his usual easy-going grin in place. “Haven’t seen you around much lately.”
Viktor’s head snapped up so fast you almost thought he hurt himself. His eyes flickered to you, studying your expression for a fraction of a second before returning to his notes.
You forced a small smile, holding up a stack of reports. “Just dropping these off.”
You moved to place them on Viktor’s desk, careful not to linger, but Jayce’s next words stopped you in your tracks.
“You know,” he mused, voice dripping with playful amusement, “for someone who constantly complains when she’s not around, you sure don’t act like it, Vik.”
Silence.
The kind of silence that immediately thickened the air, made it heavy, charged.
Your brain took a full three seconds to register what Jayce had just said.
You blinked. “Wait. What?”
Viktor froze.
His pen, mid-stroke, halted against the page. His entire body went rigid, his fingers tightening around the notebook in his lap.
Jayce, bless his completely oblivious soul, continued without a care in the world. “Yeah, seriously. Every time you’re not here, he—”
“Jayce.”
Viktor’s voice cut through the air like a knife. Low. Sharp. Warning.
Jayce finally seemed to sense the weight of the situation. He looked at Viktor, then at you, then back at Viktor, realization dawning like a slow-motion catastrophe.
“Oh,” he said, blinking. “Ohhh.”
You barely heard him. Your entire focus was on Viktor, who was currently staring a hole into his notebook as if he could will the conversation out of existence. His grip on his pen was so tight you thought it might snap in half.
You took a step closer. “Viktor,” you started carefully, “is that true?”
He didn’t answer. Your stomach twisted.
Jayce shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh—”
“Leave.”
It was barely more than a breath, but Jayce immediately straightened. “Yeah. Yep. That’s my cue. I am—definitely—leaving.”
And then, with the speed of a man fleeing imminent death, he was gone.
The door shut behind him, leaving you alone with Viktor.
And still—he didn’t look at you.
You took a slow breath, willing your voice to stay steady. “Viktor.”
Nothing.
So you took another step closer, moving carefully, deliberately, until you were standing directly beside him. Close enough to see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw was clenched just a little too tight.
“…Is it true?” you asked again, quieter this time.
A long, heavy pause.
Then—finally—he exhaled. A slow, controlled breath, like he was preparing for something.
“…Yes.”
Your heart stuttered.
He still didn’t look at you. His eyes remained fixed on the desk, his fingers tapping a restless rhythm against his notebook.
You swallowed, trying to ignore the way your pulse was hammering in your ears. “Then why—?”
“Because it is irrelevant.”
That caught you off guard. “What?”
Viktor let out a quiet, humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “You deserve someone who is not married to his work. Someone who can give you their full attention, not just stolen moments between projects.”
Your chest ached. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”
He went still.
Slowly—hesitantly—he finally turned to look at you.
His golden eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, were guarded. Careful. But beneath that, beneath the walls he so carefully constructed, there was something else.
Something hesitant. Something fragile.
Something real.
“…You would grow tired of me,” he said quietly. “Of the late nights. Of the exhaustion. Of the way I forget to eat unless someone reminds me.”
You stared at him, barely able to breathe. “Viktor—”
“I am not good at this,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “I do not know how to—” He stopped, inhaled sharply, then exhaled again. “I do not know how to be what you need.”
Something in your chest cracked open.
You reached for his hand before he could pull away. Your fingers brushed against his—warm, steady, certain.
“You don’t have to be perfect,” you said softly. “You just have to be you.”
Viktor stared at your intertwined fingers like they were some kind of impossible equation.
Like he wanted to believe you, but didn’t quite know how.
“…And if I disappoint you?” he asked, his voice barely more than a breath.
You squeezed his hand. “Then I’ll let you know. And we’ll figure it out. Together.”
His lips parted slightly, like he wanted to argue. But for once—for once—he didn’t.
Instead, after a long, drawn-out moment, he simply closed his fingers around yours.
Not tightly. Not desperately.
Just enough.
A quiet, tentative acceptance.
“…You are remarkably persistent,” he murmured, the smallest, softest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
You huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, I noticed.”
Viktor shook his head, exhaling something that almost sounded like a chuckle. “Jayce is going to be insufferable about this.”
You grinned. “Oh, absolutely.”
And then—finally, finally—Viktor let himself relax.