queenofruneterra - Tumblr blog

queenofruneterra · 1 year

Text

NSFW Swain oneshot, 1.9k words

| Y/n finds out Swain wants them as badly as they want him |

*posts draft then disappears into the void again*

It's taken you years to climb through the ranks of the Noxian military, and you've finally achieved your life's goal; an accomplishment not many are able to vaunt. The rigorous training, unremitting criticism, and extreme pressure that's led many others to leave the army has never phased you. While they fled, quickly realizing they didn't possess the mental fortitude it takes to be a Noxian soldier, you powered through the worst of it- and it paid off. Becoming a general had been your dream, and you're buzzing with excitement.

You're filled with a variety of emotions as you wend your way towards Swain's office. Elation, yes, but there's something else; a subtle frisson dancing at the back of your mind.

The first time you'd seen him in person, he was speaking to your brigade, personally congratulating you all on another victory. You had heard of him in the past— who hadn't?— and the rumors of his menacing aura and cold demeanor proved true. He stood proudly, carrying himself with grace and sovereignty, invoking fear in those around him. While you fully expected him to be every bit as frightening as you were told, one thing caught you off guard;

You never expected him to be so handsome.

This won't be the first time you've met with Swain alone. Before deciding you were worthy of becoming a general, he spoke with you personally, dissecting every aspect of you through meticulous questioning. You spent a lot of time together— strictly professional time, of course— but the more you spoke, the more you were drawn to him. This time, it's you who's going to see him. Although you know it's a long shot, you can't help but wonder...

You knock on the ornate entrance in front of you, only opening when you hear Swain's okay, his voice slightly muffled behind the heavy wooden door.

"Good evening," you greet, attempting to mask your anxiety under a cheerful disposition.

"Good evening, miss y/n. It's not like you to arrive unannounced."

The warm light bathing his office offsets his staid appearance, gracing his face with a charming glow. The wooden furniture and leather seats are exceedingly charming, flawlessly complimenting his air of elegance.

"Oh, you're busy now?" you ask, despite knowing he's always occupied with some kind of work; he is the Grand General after all.

"Of course. You aren't asking an obvious question to hear an obvious answer, are you?" He scoffs, continuing to sort through the papers on his desk. "You want something."

His words shuddered into the silence of the room, the bass in his voice sending chills down your spine.

You tense as he finally looks towards you, his expression cold and difficult to read. You've always found everything about him incredibly appealing, from the way his silver hair flows past his shoulders to the sheer respect his presence commands. Right now, it's the hint of ferocity in his all-pervading gaze that sends pulses of arousal thrumming between your thighs.

"No sir, I just..." Your voice wavers slightly, poorly constructed confidence crumbling under the intensity of his glare. "Yes?" he looks you up and down curiously before continuing. "I don't have all day," he mutters, redirecting his focus to the files before him.

"It's nothing. Sorry for interrupting," you reply, smiling politely before turning to leave.

"Wait." his voice is authoritative, scarily so, stopping you in your tracks. Swain's picked up on your tone– disheartened and plaintive– and it's sparked his curiosity.

"I apologize," he sighs before continuing, "Tell me," he queries, slowly rising from the chair behind his desk, watching you turn to face him. "Why are you here?" He makes his way to where you stand, looming over you as you struggle to find your voice.

Against the tension in the air, you chuckle breathily. "You know, you're really quite intimidating." the boldness of your admission sending waves of heat throughout your body.

"IntImidating?" He laughs quietly, his voice now low and condescending. "A soldier of your distinction trembles at the prospect of abandoning her reticence. Ironic, isn't it?" He inches closer, snaking a red hand behind your back, pulling you to him. Swain looks into your eyes before softly placing his other hand around your neck, allowing the thumb to graze your chin. "Do you think you've been subtle? That I haven't noticed?" He leans in, his lips brushing your cheek as he speaks;

“No... your infatuation is painfully obvious."

Another fact is sent forth into the quiet room, the veracity reverberating and leaving you stunned.

You're overcome with embarrassment as the realization that he knows washes over you. A few moments of suffocating silence pass, neither of you moving an inch. Your face is hot and your heart is racing, his sudden closeness stirring something hot between your thighs.

He lightly slides his lips across your cheek, stopping at your ear, his breath tickling you as he speaks. "So, it's your penchant for me that drew you here?"

"No, of course not." you breathe, your body freezing as he places a soft kiss on your neck. He hums quietly, seemingly considering whether or not you're being truthful. "Even if that were the case, I can't say I mind having you all to myself."

His voice is different now. It's deeper, dripping with desire, all crowned with an undertone of prurience that leaves you desperate to hear it again. You place your hand behind his head, lacing your fingers through his soft grey hair. Slowly, you press your lips against his, capturing him in a passionate kiss that brings about butterflies in your abdomen.

It's rushed; pride and professionalism cast aside as you slide your hands across the crotch of his pants, venturing with light pressure that elicits quiet, inebriating moans. His hands roam your body freely, eventually making their way under your shirt, deftly unbuckling your bra and ghosting over the sensitive skin of your breasts. You moan into the kiss, prompting him to kneed your nipples between his fingers with dexterity that makes you tremble.

You soon find yourself sitting on his desk—your shirt and bra long gone— with your legs wrapped around his waist. He pulls back from a particularly fervent kiss, looking down on you, his gaze a combination of lust and desire.

A wave of arousal sends shivers through your body, your core slick and aching for his touch. "Closer," you breathe, your breaths quick and shallow.

A wry laugh escapes him as he uses his free hand to pull you flush against his angular hips. You slowly begin grinding against him, your body begging for friction, quivering at the feeling of the rock-hard erection in his pants.

"Desperate, aren't we?" he asks, mocking your pitiful tone.

You look at him with the veneration of an adorer to their god; 'desperate' for him doesn't even scratch the surface. You crave him, immeasurably so, and all you want is to drown yourself in him.

You nod before once again pulling him into a fervent kiss. It's more intense now, sharp, fiery, and ignited by years of pent-up arousal. The way you hungrily pull him in tells him how long you've waited for this moment, and he reciprocates your touch with the same heated, burning passion.

"Go on then," he moans, the salacious tone of his voice sparking something within you. "Let's see how useful you can be."

You begin clumsily unbuckling his belt as quickly as possible, your body shaking with need and anticipation. You unbutton his pants, sliding them off with his briefs before beginning to stroke him slowly, reveling in the sight of his normally stoic expression melting into one of unadulterated arousal—

under your touch.

"Swain, please..." you sigh, looking at him with shameless adoration. "I need to feel you."

"Soon enough darling," he hisses in response, glaring at you through slits of his lidded eyes. "I'll touch you when you've proven you deserve it." The small smirk on his face leads you to obey with deference, leaping off of his desk and fitting yourself under him.

With good natured malice, you begin lapping at him— quick little kitten licks that draw out hushed moans. You look up at him, taking in the way his face contorts as you squeeze his base with your hand, his expression serving as efficacious motivation to go further. Breathing through your nose, you sink onto him, resisting the urge to gag.

You bob your head a few times before pulling up, pressing your tongue against the tender nerves below the head. You resume stroking him slowly, running one hand over the ruddy tip while the other dips between your legs to press against your dampened underwear; but the pressure of your fingers isn't nearly enough. The heady taste of him on your tongue coupled with the sound of his ragged breathing is gratifying– you've got the Grand General right where you want him– but it's not sufficient to satisfy your wanton desperation.

You look at him through your eyelashes, hoping he'll succumb to the slick strings of saliva connecting you to his length. "I've wanted this for so long," you breathe, maintaining eye contact as you continue. "I've worked so hard, I've— please."

Your shameless begging has the desired effect on the man, his own desperation made apparent when he obliges almost instantly, seemingly too enamored with you to focus on teasing you further.

You soon find yourself back on his desk, this time completely exposed with his erection at your entrance. You feel him rub against you before slowly pushing in inch by inch, the feeling of his breath against your skin sending shivers down your spine. "Fuck, Swain," you whine, curling your toes at how perfectly he fills you.

He leans down to kiss your neck, sucking mottles of purple and making you squirm. "Is this what you want?" he breathes.

"Y-yes," you reply, your voice trembling as he begins to thrust, filling your body with carnal electricity. He continues softly kissing your neck, the combination of his deep, quiet moans and the vibration on your skin pushing you ever closer to your climax.

The thought of taking you on his desk, abandoning all work and responsibilities in favor of his most base desires, had briefly crossed Swain's mind during particularly erotic moments alone. Now that he’s actually here, and his office, previously silent and peaceful, is finally filled with the lewd sound of skin slapping skin and those beautiful moans he’d been dreaming of, it’s almost too much for him to handle.

He begins slamming into you unrelentingly, shifting you slightly to hit a spot that makes you see stars. Your mind goes blank, his thrusts reducing you to a breathless, stuttering, whining mess. "Such a good girl," he breathes, the quiver of his voice telling you that he's close too.

A beat of pleasure pulses through your body at his unexpected praise, and you cup your hands around his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. He’s flushed and glistening, his messy white hair and lidded eyes blending into a sort of flawless dishevelment– a look only he would be able to pull off. The fiery passion in his eyes is all but burned out, now replaced with a glossed over, blissed out stare, and it’s enough to push you over the edge. You pull him into one last kiss as you finally climax, him following you not long after.

#league of legends #league of legends headcanons #league #league headcanons #league smut #nsfw #swain imagines #swain smut #swain nsfw #jericho swain x reader

13 notes · View notes