Grass shook, the tips waving through the still air of the Rift. Grunts, stifled by gloves hands, emerged from the base of the brush.
"Please, mm, hurry…" Quinn's leather leggings were peeled back, leaving an opening to her sweat-slick skin. Soraka, poised behind Quinn with her chest against the spy's back, thrust her hips rapidly. Her bright robe flailed behind her, beating back the tall grass. Soraka grunted, adjusting herself, keeping her head close to Quinn's below the top of the bush.
Quinn peered through the blades of foliage at Ahri, the nine-tailed fox woman, who battered minions calmly. She brushed her hair back, a frown growing on her soft features.
"Jeez, Raka, hur—ow!" Soraka struck Quinn's head, ceasing her motions. "What was that for?" Her complaint came as a whisper, but no less frenzied than a shout.
"Don't call me that." Quinn didn't respond, instead turning her attention to their slowly progressing enemy. After a moment of tense silence, the air between them thick a mana, Soraka continued. She penetrated Quinn roughly, quiet slapping sounds coming from their skin as their hips met. Soraka wanted this match to end.
Without warning, her groin tightened. She clenched onto Quinn, lightly biting her shoulder, as she expelled her cum into Quinn. She shook for each pulse, her eyes shut. Quinn sighed as the cool liquid filled her. Soraka pulled out, a tiny bit of mana dribbling out of her tip, and ushered Quinn to dress. In seconds, the two were decent and were bearing their arms.
They flew from the bush towards Ahri who had made it to the turret and had whittled it down to a half of its durability. The ensuing fight was short, Soraka having taken the brunt of Ahri's assault and Quinn dodging the last. Ahri was panting heavily, turning to run, when Soraka leapt on top of her, member exposed.
"Are you serious? You're just going to… I guess I'll leave you to it, then. Valor, let's fly." Quinn summoned her bird as bright light shimmered around her, vanishing in a flash seconds later. Ahri and Soraka rolled in the grass as Soraka fought to pin her down.
"You'll have to do more than this to-" Soraka silenced Ahri with a kiss, firm and forced. Ahri's spirit orb dissipated. Lips still pressed, Soraka pulled aside Ahri's kimono, parted her panties, and rammed into her. Ahri's head lunged back, releasing a short squeal as her insides burned. Soraka was already hard and pushed all the way in.
She shoved Ahri back into the grass and positioned herself over the shorter girl. Their gazes locked, Ahri breathing rapidly, Soraka gripping Ahri's arms harshly. One of Ahri's hands snaked up Soraka's thigh, pinching the soft flesh beside her cock. "Don't hold back."
Soraka pulled out, nearly to the tip, then pushed down to the base in a single thrust. Ahri tried to cover her mouth, but her arms remained pinned to her sides, allowing a short cry to eschew from her lips. Soraka didn't stop for a second, pulling back and slamming in at a faster pace than Ahri could fathom. Her hair tangled with the matted grass as her back arced, pushing her chest to the sky. Sweat dropped from Soraka's brow as her hips moved of their own volition. She eyed Ahri's chest, her clothes stuck to them with perspiration.
Ahri gasped, looking down with half-lidded eyes to see Soraka tear the top of her kimono down and planting her mouth over her right breast. She mewled out a moan, her eyes rolling back in their sockets. Soraka bit the mound with hungry teeth, her hips gyrating as her hands white-knuckled Ahri's arms to the ground. Her own chest bounced as she continued thrusting. Saliva leaked from the corner of Ahri's mouth, her cheek nearly pressed flat against the earth. She tongued the air as another moan clawed its way from her throat.
Soraka growled, red hair flashing in her mind. She pulled out, flipped Ahri over, and then slammed back into the punished fox woman. Ahri gripped the grass in her fingers, clenching her teeth. Soraka reached forward to grope and tug Ahri's breasts as she pounded relentlessly, her testacles slapping Ahri's swollen clit. She gnawed at Ahri's bare shoulder and rubbed her clothed breasts up and down Ahri's back. She suppressed her own moan as Ahri lost control, her arms collapsing under her mashing her tits into the grass. Her tongue flicked the air as she moaned loudly, her body convulsing. Liquid leaked from between her legs, sliding down her thighs and soaking the ground. Her breath hitched as Soraka's cock twitched.
She leaned back, grabbing her own breast, as she shot into Ahri. She bit her lip, feeling her juice travel the length of her member before being deposited abruptly into Ahri's body. Ahri came again, her legs shaking and, eventually, failing her. Soraka followed her to the ground and thrust in one last time, driving the head into Ahri's womb. She gasped as she shot three more loads. The substance was cold, creating an odd contrast between it and Ahri's heated walls. There was so much it leaked out and onto the grass. With a shudder, Ahri's eyes rolled back and stopped breathing, the corners of her mouth turned up in a wild grin.
Soraka ignored the announcer's death call, pulling her wet and flaccid member from Ahri's body. She stood and turned around quickly, not giving the woman she'd just killed a second glance.
Minions and champions stormed up the steps of the blue base, tearing down the middle lane tower and pummeling its inhibitor until it stopped working. Newly-revived champions sprinted to the defense which the attackers met eagerly with half strength but a more effective team composition. Soraka's global heal and a few well-placed allied ultimate abilities sent the defenders scrambling with their tails between their legs, Ahri casting a lingering gaze at Soraka.
The red team was one good offensive away from the end of the game. Lux called for mana. Soraka nearly broke down in tears right there. Without a word, she grabbed the light mage, dragged her back down the steps that led into blue base, and tossed her against the stone wall. Lux squealed as Soraka pulled down her leather pants and felt her up with a wet hand. She pulled out her cock to find it soft. Lux had her chest pressed into the stone, panting anxiously with her legs parted. Soraka sighed.
She grabbed her member and ran it back and forth along the outside of Lux's damp core, Soraka's fleshy skin pulling at Lux's clit. Lux started moaning, quickly covering her mouth when Soraka ordered her to do so. Soraka got hard fast. If the rush of blood hadn't let her know that, than Lux's barely stifled moans would have. She reared back but spared no time in penetrating the mage. Her tip rubbed Lux's sweet spot as it entered, sending her into an immediate orgasm that wracked her body with mild spasms. Her legs shook but Soraka held her up.
The celestial woman rocked back and forth, bumping Lux's womb with every thrust. The girl was small and her pussy squeezed Soraka's thick member roughly. But she was finding that she wasn't getting any closer to orgasm. Lux tensed around Soraka as she came again, this time unable to keep that the cry that flew from her mouth. She rocked her hips back into Soraka's. Soraka just let the mage ride her as she closed her eyes.
Hair as dark and thick as blood. Skin tight as leather. A voice that could grind gravel. Soraka's hand drifted to her chest as she bit her lip. She imagined thrusting into her lover, her cries ushering her on. Lux's high pitched chirp brought her back to reality.
Soraka sighted, but was closer. She leaned forward a bit, pushing deeply into the mage. She rubbed her member through Lux's belly as she angled the head into the roof of Lux's pussy. Lux's legs turned into jelly, forcing Soraka to lift the mumbling mid laner. She lifted her by her thighs and kept her pressed into the stone wall. She thrust faster, sending Lux into a frenzy. She licked the stone as more fluid leaked down from her core and dripped to the ground.
Soraka grunted, cumming unexpectedly. Mana shot into Lux's womb, filling her up and emerging between their two bodies. It fell to the ground in droplets. Lux shook again but Soraka let her fall this time, leaving her in a puddle of their juices with a dazed smile on her face.
Despite the slight detour, the game was still won, Soraka's team easily overcoming the weaker team composition of their enemies which highly favored a powerful early game and suffered from an under-farmed Ahri. Soraka merely felt hollow as she left the summoning platforms and cried in her room until her eyes were red and her sheets needed to be cleaned.
Wisps of blue energy flowed about Soraka's fingertips, looking almost transparent across her violet skin. It tickled her pores, pulling at the energy in her veins with tiny tugs of arcane force. In the past, she would idle here with a small on her face as she played with the designs of magic, but this was the present. Her head slumped in her palm, her eyes drifting over the mana flows as they cascaded soundlessly in the font. Her other hand lazily flowed with it. She sighed, blowing some stray hairs from her face.
A loud, raucous growl echoed like a raging beast from her belly, its tremors resounding off the walls of her compact room. Then she felt the pangs of hunger hit her stomach. She hadn't been eating, food forgotten in her mind, but her body wouldn't have it. She removed her hand from the font with care so it wouldn't shatter and left her room, locking the door behind her.
Not all champions lived at the Institute of War. Many, if not most, had homes beyond the magically imbued walls of the home of the summoners. They had cities and families in the farther reaches of the world. For those living too far away, teleports were in place to send champions, and occasionally summoners, to Freljord and the Shadow isles, among other regions.
Some champions were imprisoned here for the security of the citizens of Runeterra. The void creatures and some of those touched by that distant realm of chaos were kept within the Institute for their own safety and the safety of others.
And a few were homeless, driven by fate or tragedy from their prior homes, or requiring housing after becoming something new. Some were taken in by other societies and others kept inside the Institute not as prisoners but relatively uninhibited under the watchful eyes of the summoners. Soraka, on the other hand, had no one and no reason to be where she was. Before the League and after being stricken with mortality, she had wandered the world helping those in need including Ionia during the Noxian-Ionian war. But her place was not there, no longer welcomed from her having healed both Ionians and Noxians.
These stone hallways and arcane barriers were her home. Not a prison, not her place of employment, but her house, her garden, her final refuge against the world and her mind. Everyone knew her, being one of the oldest champions, a true veteran of the League, if not a bit neglected. Everyone treated her with at least respect for her age. Until her recent change ruined everything.
No one spoke to her, but she heard the whispers. Summoners and champions, visitors and tourists, parted like fleeing locusts as she walked down the corridors. Conversations withered into hushed whispers. She looked no one in the eye, finding the cobblestones at her feet a far more inviting sight. She felt their eyes piercing her skin, searching her garments for rumors and speculation.
"Is it true?" "You don't think she actually-" "My brother said he saw it!" "That woman from Demacia looked at it with her own eyes." "You can't take these rumors seriously."
Soraka shut her eyes, pressing her hands to her ears. By the time she made it to the cafeteria, the whispers had turned into a storm, scratching her mind until her sanity ebbed away. Everything stopped as she grunted, running into a solid wall that shook as she impacted against it.
"Well, well. If it isn't the baby of the hour." Jax's gruff voice grated Soraka's ears. His visor stared back at her, hiding his intentions behind the shiny surface. His arms crossed, a few others joining him at his side. No one turned, but those seated around them looked over their shoulders, glancing up from their trays, viewing the scene from their peripherals as they drank from mugs of thick ale.
Soraka guessed Jax's entourage were fans of his or visitors to the League. She recognized none of them, but recognized their kind. Dirty cheeks and chipped teeth leered at her body. Her hands drifted to her chest, her thin arms doing little to cover much of anything. Her skin burned under their scrutiny.
"I've been here a long time, an' I know this ain't a rumor. You got somethin' hiding in there," Jax said, pointing at Soraka's crotch. She stepped backwards, hitting someone else. She glanced up, seeing Draven's toothy grin staring down at her.
"Wh-what do you want with me? Really, I need to-" Draven gripped her by the arm, making her yelp. Jax stepped closer.
"I think you know exactly what we want. Let's see if this is really as big as they all say it is." Soraka squirmed and fought but was kept down by Draven's tree trunks of arms. She dangled a few inches from the ground, her hooves hovering in air. She tried pulling her legs up only to have Jax keep them down. He began pulling them apart, Soraka shutting her eyes as tears fell down her cheek bones.
"Jax, now, now. I didn't think you were one to be so intrigued by speculation." Jax stood, turning to the newcomer. Soraka recognized it immediately. She wanted to shout, to plead, but her throat felt hoarse and dry. Katarina walked between Jax's posse, ignoring their taunts. She didn't look at Soraka, but the hooved woman watched her bright eyes intensely.
"Don't be interrupting now, Kat. This is official business," Draven said. His breath was surprisingly pleasant, likely a product of his excessive vanity. His volume, on the other hand, sent Soraka's ears reeling.
"You think so? This is 'official business?' Tormenting fellow champions for sport? Really doing Noxus proud, aren't you?" Draven grimaced. "Drop the unaligned and I won't have to bend your elbow back. I'm sure the summoners could repair it, but it wouldn't be a quick, painless fix like it would in the Rift." Katarina rose an eyebrow. Soraka could feel her gaze grazing her own. She felt Draven shuffle, looking at Jax. The gladiator shrugged at his friend.
With a growl, Soraka fell to the floor. It was barely noticeable, present for only a moment, but Soraka saw Katarina tense as she hit the floor. She could practically feel Katarina's arms around her as her eyes crossed over Soraka. Draven snorted then walked away, a few of Jax's fans following suit.
"I think your 'business' should be done here as well, no?" Katarina said.
"I remember brats who mess with my toys, assassin." Jax left, the last of his entourage behind his heels. Seconds passed before idle chatter returned to the cafeteria, no longer whispering with hunched shoulders and averted eyes.
"Um, thank you, Katarina," Soraka said, looking down. "Ah!" Katarina grabbed her by the wrist and took her from the room. Soraka remained silent as the passed through the halls, past all the people who had been murmuring behind her back, past her room, and out the front gates. The ethereal glow of the geological phenomenon bearing the Institute of War illuminated the pair as they stalked down the steps. Soraka could feel Katarina's grip tighten, but only a bit. She permitted herself a smile, the muscles aching.
Katarina seated Soraka at a bench some distance from the institute then sat beside her, pulling out a satchel that had been attached to her hip.
"Katarina, I-" Soraka was silenced as a bun mashed into her mouth. The taste was sweet, basted in oil, but firm and tough. She grabbed it and chewed, a little too vigorously. She slowed down, covering her mouth to swallow.
"I came to tell you that I'm gonna need to fuck you some more before I take action for you against the Council of Alteration." Katarina took a bite from her own bread, leaving her pouch of food between them. Soraka recognized it as Noxian cooking, but found it more delicious then anything she'd ever eaten from the League.
"Okay," Soraka said between mouthfuls. Katarina looked at her with wide eyes.
"That easy? I mean, um," she coughed. "Yeah, Raka. You learn your place. Bitch." Soraka smiled as Katarina hid her darkening cheeks. She placed a hand over one of the assassins.
"Thank you, I mean it, Kat." When Katarina didn't respond, only grabbing some meat to stuff into her mouth, Soraka continued. "The match today was unbearable. I don't want to imagine what Jax had planned for me. I know you care, or you would have left me to them." She squeezed Katarina's arm. "But you don't have to admit it." Grinning, she returned to her meal.
The two sat in a glow, neither speaking. They chewed quietly, staring at their remarkable surroundings, until all the food had been consumed. As Katarina stood, Soraka pulled her down for a chaste kiss. She grinned when Katarina pulled back with a blush.
"Ahn!" Katarina gripped the low wall behind her head as Soraka fell into her slowly. They were near dark foliage, on the ground beside a marble wall that sparkled under the bizarre lighting around them. Katarina's abdomen glistened with sweat, her belly convulsing as she rose her hips to meet with Soraka's. Her legs wrapped around Soraka's back, pulling her in with curled toes.
Soraka wrapped her lips around a nipple, sucking gently and tugging softly with pressed teeth. "Mm…" Katarina hummed through tightened lips. Soraka wanted to cry holding this woman against her, but she refused to be embarrassed in such a way before the skilled Noxian soldier. She switched breasts, rewarded with another moan and a hand gipping her horn.
A thumb traced the ivory. Lips against Soraka's forehead made her smile into Katarina's chest. Her body was on fire, melting Katarina's insides with soft moans and trembling fingers caressing her thighs. Katarina slid a few inches across the ground as Soraka quickened her pace. She captured Katarina's lips in her own. She lapped at the tongue that met hers like a starving dog. She wrapped her arms under Katarina's and clawed at her shoulders, making the skin at her fingertips bleach-white.
A moan vibrated from Katarina's mouth as her body shuddered. Soraka felt the thick juices pool between them and slip down their thighs but only slammed harder in response. Katarina threw her head back, accidentally hitting the wall behind her. She cried out, quickly moving her head back to Soraka's, pressing their cheeks together. Soraka held her scalp gently, soothing the aching bruise. She placed kisses down Katarina's neck as her ass went into the air.
A long breath escaped her as she felt her release. She tensed and froze, pumping strand after strand of cum into Katarina. "Oh, gods, shit…" Katarina breathed as the cool liquid filled her. She gyrated her hips, milking every drop from her lover. When the quakes had stopped, Soraka stilled. She allowed herself to drop onto Katarina, her heated body and sweat melting into the other woman's.
The air smelled of sweat, cum, and sex. Katarina slid her leg down Soraka's, her feet brushing against a furry hoof. She buried her nose in Soraka's silver hair, inhaling deeply.
The cool air of the caverns caught up with the pair, their breath evening. Soraka shrunk into Katarina as her skin cooled. Rough hands and a soft embrace welcomed her as she curled, her member removing itself from Katarina.
No words were spoken. Their mouths hung open in level pants. Soraka quivered as Katarina's hot breath cascaded down her neck and over her back. A kiss brought her attention upward.
"Hey," Katarina said, her voice rough. She cleared her throat, the action sending vibrations through Soraka's skeleton. "I, um, I'm not ready for this to end." Soraka giggled. She couldn't remember the last time she laughed. "So, I mean, if it's alright with you, can I get a rain check on that whole 'powerful influence' thing?"
"It's... yes, I suppose I can wait a while longer." She received another kiss for her words. She felt blood rush to her cheeks. "Yet, this is getting hard." Katarina laughed.
"'Getting hard?'"
Soraka hit her in the shoulder, another chuckle coming from the red-head. "I've been like this for such a short time, yet it's already becoming more than I can bare, don't you dare say anything." Katarina bit her lip. "Please don't leave me like this for too long. I don't know who else can help me." Katarina rubbed her back, her hands smoothing over Soraka's hunched shoulders.
She opened her mouth to speak but closed a moment later. Soraka noticed. She held her tongue, as well.
They were dressed and walking back to the institute minutes later, passers-by none to wiser to the pair's adventures outside. Katarina walked quickly in front of Soraka. She held her pouch slung over her back, the cloth beating softly against her skin and leather. Soraka stalked behind her, just fast enough to keep up. She wrung her hands together, her fingers catching and linking with each other. The distance between the two grew until Soraka had to peer between others and around corners to keep her line of sight. Soraka looked through a group of summoners, speaking animatedly about a seer or a deer, to see people, walls, doors, some paintings, and no Katarina.
She scratched her head. After searching in vain for minutes, she returned to her bedroom. She tried the door, finding it locked, then reached for her key. Her hand impacted with a bare rope, she looked down, pulling at her cord and patting about her clothes. She whined quietly as she slumped to the floor. Her cock folded uncomfortably on the cold floor. A metallic rattling brought her attention to the door. The wooden barrier swung open, a grinning Katarina standing in the doorway.
"You need a better lock." Soraka nearly wept. Katarina turned into the room, leaving the door open. Soraka stood and shut the door behind her as she followed.
"Kat?" Katarina glanced back, her arm dangling from the top of Soraka's canopy bed. "No, never mind," Soraka said, smiling.
