sydney !!

she/her - 21 - genshin impact, jjk ++more!!

[polkayeti]

Lohen struggling to understand why you're crying when he tries to fit the entire length of his cock deep into your pussy hole.

Your tears are never ending when he rams into you so hard that your jaw is permanently unhinged at the sheer depth of his stupid cock fucking into you.

"What's the matter? Oh, let me guess.." this bastard pretends to think when suddenly pulling his cock away with a sly smirk, watching you squirm and cling to his arms as he giggles at your struggles.

His index and middle fingers spread over your clit to stimulate it, biting his lip while watching you stutter out a gasp, "O-Oh fuck! Lohen..!"

He laughs and rubs your clit, harsh and unrelenting before stabbing you with his cock once more, the tip reaching the gummy base of your cervix, "Shh.. did that feel good bunny? Does the little slut feel good?" he feels the clench around his dick and your face contorts into the expression he just loves to see, tears and snot ran down your face.

"Ah, ahh.." he moans high pitched and obnoxious, his pretty voice sending arousal straight to your belly, the heat pooling there is unbearable as he messes with your clit.

The double stimulation is so unrelenting that fresh tears run down your eyes at the sheer amount of pleasure you're feeling.

Lohen growls when you try to move away from him, your hand pushing his away from your clit as he pinches it to halt your movements, "W-Wait! Ah! wait..!" he stops moving all of a sudden and watched how your face contorted with something akin to bleary confusion.

"W-why... did you stop?" you question, your hips bucking forward to reach the peak of your climax but he tuts annoyed.

"You were the one who said to wait, right?" his cock is still warm and cozy inside of you but he doesn't move. Not one inch.

You shake your head and bit your lip, "I.. I know but.. I really wanna.." he cups his hand over his ear, condescendingly so, "Can't hear ya.. maybe repeat that?" he replies smugly, smirking when your breaths get heavier, your legs twitching.

"C-cum.. I want to cum." you shake your head and your hand squeezes his as a silent plea. He hums pleased at your lack of defiance, though honestly, there wasn't much to begin with. You're quite the naughty little thing aren't you?

He tsks and slaps a palm on your ass, relishing in the way you squirm and twitch, "Uh huh... but where exactly are your manners?"

"Please, I want your cum! please cum in me Lohen!" you continue to cry for him to fuck you and finish inside of you, much to his surprise..

"Oh yeah?" he relents and shushes you softly, "Here. Take my load. Take it." he snaps his hips forward until he's sure he can feel your tight little womb. He feels you whine out, your pussy squirting out liquid and he takes that as cue to spill his seed into you the same time, successfully creaming your walls clear white.

You practically cling to him when he continues to thrust into you, feeling your body spasm from sensitivity.

"Have to.. keep it all in." he whispers into your ear, cradling your head as he snugly fits his cock into you. He breathes softly and watches you hide into his neck. Lohen pulls back slightly and grips a handful of your hair to connect his lips to yours.

"You were so good bunny." he praises with a gentle rub to your ass. "If it spills out of this slutty hole? I'll just keep pumping more into you. got it?" Lohen hums when you nod rapidly with blushy cheeks. Very eager to please him huh?

He presses a sweet kiss to your cheek, "Atta girl."

‎

[parttimefae]

YOU MISS 100% OF THE SHOTS YOU DON’T TAKE

you think he’s terribly annoying… pff he totally doesn’t care…right?

CHARACTERS [seperate] varka, flins, wanderer, lohen

WARNINGS suggestiveness !!!! flins makes innuendos, trigger warning for second hand embarrassment in wanderers ngl, lohen’s a little weird, kay? is he considered a yandere idfk im not well versed enough in that but he is pretty obsessed with reader

NOTES writing before lohens release so take his characterization with a heap of salt. also ignore typos this was written off of a blunt lmao.

fem!reader !!! she/her pronouns are used

VARKA

if you could use one word to describe grandmaster varka it would be irritating.

blowing away and splattering all the food you’re delivering with his vision accidentally while playing around with klee? irritating. getting down on his knees, kissing your hand and swearing on his knighthood he’s sorry in front of everyone in mondstadt’s square? even more irritating. spilling his ginormous cup of beer on your dress when you happen to both be out at the same time—do you even need to say it? it’s irritating.

you appreciate what he does as a grandmaster for the greater people of mondstadt but barbatos does he hinder your life. if anyone asked you, you’d prefer to stray away from wherever he ends up.

he feels contrary to you. he thinks you’re fascinating. gorgeous, pristine, kind-hearted, intelligent, and by the archons does he love your cooking at the good hunter. he’s irrevocably endeared with you. if anyone were to ask him, he’d say he’d like to be (honored to be) in your presence constantly. it really is a shame his motor and social skills run out the window whenever you’re around. i mean the only reason he vision-malfunctioned was because his brain dead-stopped seeing you looking all pretty. he may be the grandmaster and greatest hero of mondstadt but he is a man after all. at least that’s how he sees it.

he’s aware you don’t like hate him, he’s aware his initial attempt at your forgiveness made you more embarrassed and upset than you already were, but if he’s one thing, it’s an alcoholic perseverant. so he will try everything in his power to win you over!

carrying bags? he’ll swing by and take those off your hands…maybe flex his muscles a little bit in front of you too but that’s totally unintentional. worried about creeps on your walk home before leaving the angel’s share? diluc move, varka’ll walk you back! believe me if you barged into the KoF headquarters and asked him to do something, he’d drop all his work in an instant to get it done… just please don’t hate him anymore.

you essentially have him on a leash, at least that’s what diluc tells you while sliding you over a drink.

you hate to admit that he is useful…sometimes.

you’re coming back to mondstadt with a delivery payment when hillichurls corner you halfway back. shit. you’re mulling over what the fuck do do when a slice of air flies past you and the hillichurls dissipate at the hands of two greatswords before you can even process it.

there’s the grand master, broad shoulders, scruffy blond hair and all, standing before you and towering over your frame.

“are you alright, ma’am?” he asks, voice laced with concern. of course he still insists upon calling you ma’am.

you mutter something’s small about being fine, flustered with how his bright blue eyes and annoyingly cute dimples stare down at you.

“well then it seems my job here is done. would you like me to walk you back to the city, ma’am?”

“i-it’s fine—just thank you.” you probably look like an idiot right now, craning your neck to look up at him and a stupid awkward grimace because you’re flustered. curse varka and his endearing smile. curse him especially for what you do next—varka’s fault of course. you shift all your weight to your tippie-toes and lean upwards just in time to kiss him on his cheek, right beneath his most prominent scar. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so flustered.

he tries to say something but mumbled gibberish just comes out. his skin flushes marinara sauce red, his hands tense up and twitch, his stupid smirk transforms into a nervous awestruck half smile like a bee-stung dog.

you turn and walk away, just as flustered as he, muttering a barely coherent, “bye, sir varka.” and he just stands there like an idiot, hands still twitching and wandering randomly like he doesn’t know what to do with them (he’s nervy okay). by the time his hands finally know what to do, one of them drifts up to trace over where you kissed (blessed him essentially) his cheek like he’s not sure if you just did that. you did. he knows this is not very knightly language but holy shit.

no one’s sure why but the grandmaster seems to be in extra good spirits the following week.

FLINS

you swear to the archons flins was put on teyvat specifically to frustrate you.

him and his stupid flirty comments, stupidly handsome face you roll your eyes at, his ‘gentlemanly’ demeanor and his incredibly long eyelashes you’re honestly kinda jealous of. they’re all exceptionally frustrating.

if you hear “m’lady” or “allow me” (typically as he redirects you from a gathering of wild hunt and insists upon protecting you) in that smooth, droning voice again you’ll send his pasty ass back to snezhnaya yourself.

and the insistence upon taking your hand as he leads you back to the nearest area cleared of the wild hunt before returning to his post is absurd.

oh and then there’s the rather suggestive and frankly embarrassing comments.

arguing about how you are able to defend yourself and aren’t his damsel in distress to project his savior complex on— “solving this dilemma will not be hard. i believe i can satisfy your nerves in many, many ways m’lady.”

disgusted by the smell of fire-water on his breath as you both end up at the flagship coincidentally— “my apologies, miss. i did not think i was close enough to you for you to catch a whiff of my breath,” he laughs in a low drawl that upsets you further. “and to think i was mulling over getting closer.” i mean what the hell does that mean ???

him jumping in and saving you from those weird abyssal eyes—“as expected, i’m sure you’re a commodity to all eyes.”

and every single time he chuckles as you fluster and snap your head away, still staring at you with those bright yellow eyes that occasionally drift lower as you look away. that stupid chuckle that makes you feel halfway to hell. and the immediate follow up of “i assure you i do not intend to mock you.” yeah, right.

yeah, the ‘gentleman act’? you’re not buying it. you find the act unbearable, especially when he’s constantly following you around.

patrolling? flins somehow find himself there, claiming he’ll help since it’s his ‘downtime’. isn’t he supposed to be working constantly?

“it’s quite disheartening to see your distain for me. i presumed i’d grow on you but you still drive me away.”

“well i’d like you much better if you stopped following me around everywhere like a lost puppy.”

“i admit i have an affinity for you, i think anybody can assume that much.”

“well your mocking laughter and judgmental stares don’t convey that, sir flins.”

“i can assure you the looks are not judgemental, it’s placed in admiration, m’lady.” he pauses. “and you may call me kyryll, i insist.”

you stutter, flustered from him again. “shut up! go patrol on that side if you’d like to be in my good graces.”

“as you wish, m’lady.”

“stop calling me that!”

you’re still under the assumption he does this purely to annoy you, maybe one day you’ll realize he just wants that cookie so effing bad.

WANDERER

he does NOT care what you think about him… okay maybe he does… just a little bit tho. and he will NEVER admit it.

you’re a fellow student at the akademiya who is honestly fed up with his terribly annoying ego. he acts as if he’s entitled to something—as if he was like an important figure in an important organization at one point… like??

his fuckass hat and his even worse ego drive you especially mad when you’re assigned to peer review each other and he’s so pissy the whole time.

unbeknownst to you he’s not that big of a dick, close to half of it is a little tsundere persona to make you think he’s just playing hard to get. that way, he won’t have to do all the cringy “asking each other out” and, what he calls “ushy mushy romantic” things. ew.

so instead he’s spewing things like, “how in teyvat did you even get through the entrance exam if this is how your work looks?”

“you might aswell start over.”

he knows your work is good, probably better than his, but he’s trying to play hard to get—don’t you get it? unfortunately you don’t and you are sick of it.

“you know, wanderer, maybe if you got rid of that sorry excuse for a haircut you could get women on your dick and stop taking out all your frustrations on my work.” and then you storm out… babe not acquired :/ and wait—is his haircut really that bad? aunty nahida said he looked handsome… :(((

maybe that’s when he realizes he’s being a little too harsh and that his little tsundere act to try and get you to be into him won’t work.

he physically cannot ask anyone else for relationship advice out of embarrassment though so he will suffer in silence (he’s dramatic it’s really not that bad) for a while.

right up until the archons themselves bless him and give you two a group project together (along with other people but they don’t really matter to him). unfortunately, after your last interactions you want utterly nothing to do with him. his extremely blunt and non constructive criticism from before has in fact bit him in the ass.

maybe he needs to swallow his pride and ask for advice—not maybe, he does. but archons this really sucks. so he sends an anonymous letter to yae publishing house, apparently his mom’s girlfriend is pretty good in this whole romance thing so maybe she’ll help.

he gets his advice… it just turns out this influenced yae miko to develop a new short romance gl novel based on this experience. sure, nobody knows the new best seller is based on his (non-existent) romance scene and now turned lesbian but he can’t help but be embarrassed every time he sees it sitting shelved in a stall.

he takes the advice, leaves a corny letter by your apartment door step (in which he bolted away from incase anybody saw him) and said an…APOLOGY. very rare from him so you better not take this for granted. he felt so goddamn embarrassed the next time he saw you on campus—so embarrassed he was actually begging the archons that someone kills him when you greeted him.

you will unfortunately have to be the one to ask him out though—he just gets so nervy!! he ignored that part of the advice from the letter—and the part suggesting he grip your thigh to ‘assert dominance’ ??? what type of things are her and his mom into ?yuck! but he will be so corny the whole time you’re out on your first date. guy is tryna act like a nonchalant cool guy the whole time it’s like actually embarrassing. but it’s even more embarrassing when he gets flustered or asked something he didn’t rehearse in the mirror beforehand.

“so, wanderer, what do you like to do?”

“i don’t like a lot of things.”

“am i one of them?”

“uh..um—y-yeah, sure.” (picture this with a voice crack halfway through i’m dying)

somehow he does manage to bag you—probably only because of his face because archons does this man not know how to smooth talk.

he’d like to thank himself, kinda yae miko and a first date tips book he discretely took and returned to/from the akademiya library.

LOHEN

this vice captain has it BAD for you, his subordinate, and frankly it’s bad for you because of how much he follows you around like an annoying bug. as in an annoying fly that won’t go away and continues to buzz around in your face.

make a suggestion that he really has no business listening to as your superior? you’re immediately getting hit back with a, “yes! what an amazing idea!” running a secret mondstadt holiday gift exchange? he will purposefully pick your name and go way above the suggested mora pricing. on that note i think he’d be so upset if you got another person—worse enough another man that’s TALLER </3. and yes on every single matter he will default to your opinion !

i’d assume everybody else is probably terribly annoyed with his very clear favoritism…including you. he thinks he’s being so romantic and so sweet, meanwhile you’re like “huh?” every time he follows you around like a golden retriever, or more accurately a weird, scruffy little stray husky that you fed crumbs once and keeps coming back to your door step.

makes it so clear he wants you around. he is so damn insistent you’re free to come to his office with any questions whenever—code for: “please please please come to my office oh barbatos if you love me she’ll come to my office and she’ll profess her love to me”

unfortunately for him when you actually do go to his office, it’s to tell him to not be so clear with his favoritism as your colleagues and comrades have started to hate you. aw man :(((

he infact does not stop though because he #wantsthatcookie. and like c’mon can you just do that professing love thing already—does barbatos really not love him :/ he’s already defeated and brought back a ruin guard’s part for you, claiming it was “out of appreciation for his hardest working subordinate”, isn’t that romantic enough ? you stared at him and asked why he thought you would like that. hmm maybe he should try more conventional gifts.

eventually somebody has to sit him down and tell him that showing his very obvious obsession with you in all the ways he does will not get him the girl. okay fine whatever he’ll try “asking you on a date” eyeroll. and “not following you around begging for your attention” ughh. fine.

believe his surprise when you actually like it better when he’s normal about you. he even heard through the grapevine you said he’s looked “better” lately. now you blush and happily accept when he offers to take you out for drinks. was it really that simple from the start? (yes it really was)

that whole night he’s just talking your ear off but it’s honestly kind of… endearing? it’s like if that stray little husky got his coat washed and groomed.

the night ends with a kiss on his cheek and oh my archons he’s over the moon. guys fighting demons to not act all obsessed again—keyword act. this man would let you feed him to wolves of wolvendom and like it.

but he does use his weirdo rizz on you and it does work. not even satirically, surprise to everybody, he does end up with the girl—so fuck you to barbatos and everyone else that doubted him. you are in for a RIDE once you’re together. do not expect to be separated from him at all. and now he actually has an excuse to be completely off his rocker when another person talks to you. his nightmares probably consist of you going on an expedition with another man honestly.

[crowsofdarkness]

Cloud needs some pointers

18+

“I need your help.” 

You stood in your doorway, clutching the doorknob in your hand, as you stared at Cloud. Who had a very defeated yet bashful look on his face. He was rubbing the back of his neck, something he often did when he was nervous. 

“Cloud,” you sighed. “It’s the middle of the night. Can’t this wait?” 

You were exhausted due to a long day at work and all you wanted to do was sleep. 

He nodded. “I know. But like I said, I could really use your help.” 

“What is it?” You asked with furrowed brows. 

He shifted in his feet, clearly uncomfortable, until his words came out in a stuttering mess. 

“I want to ask Tifa out but I’m afraid she’ll realize how inexperienced I am in the sexual department and not want me. I know you’re more experienced with sex and stuff so I was hoping you could show me some pointers.” 

You blinked rapidly, trying to understand all of the words he just rushed out in one breath. But then the anger began to fester inside of you, causing you to grip the door harder. You’ve always had feelings for Cloud but knew he never looked at you in that kind of way, especially when Tifa was around. So to have him come here, insinuate you were sexually experienced, and to have you show him pointers to use on Tifa really made you want to hit him. 

“How do you know that?” You asked. 

Cloud ran a hand through his already messy blonde hair. “You tell Aerith all the time about your dates and how they were either good or bad. She’s the one who told me to ask you for help.” 

You bit down on your tongue in an effort not to snap at Cloud. Aerith shouldn’t have been running her mouth to him but you knew, deep down, that she was doing it from a good place. You could tell Cloud was desperate for help but it did sting a bit that’s all he saw you as, someone to ask for sex pointers, rather than a potential partner.

You had to admit though, the idea of showing Cloud how to do things sexually was a turn on. If you couldn’t have him as a partner, might as well have some fun with him. 

“You do realize what this means, right?” You asked. 

Cloud nodded. “Yeah. I’ve messed around with girls before and I’m not a virgin so it’s not like it’ll be my first time. I just want a few pointers on how to make sure she feels good.”

“We’ll see each other naked. I want to make sure you’re alright with that.” 

Something flashed in Cloud’s usual bright eyes before he nodded again. “I know. It won’t bother me.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you eventually sighed with a nod. “Fine. Come on in.” 

Cloud’s eyes lit up before slipped inside of your apartment with you locking the door behind him. 

“So, it’ll be different for everyone but just make sure to listen to my moans as an indication on how you’re doing," you said, gazing down at Cloud. 

You both were positioned on your bed, you on your back and him on his stomach with his face between your legs. He still had his clothes on but you were only wearing a tank top, being bare from the waist down. You asked Cloud what he needed more pointers on and almost immediately he mentioned Oral so that would be your first lesson. 

“I’ve done it only once before so I might not be good. Doubt I’ll be able to get you off,” he said, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. 

You patted his head. “Don’t worry about that. Ready?” 

Cloud’s eyes were transfixed on your cunt, somewhat wet from the anticipation of finally having him in your bed with you. You wouldn’t admit it but this moment was something you dreamed about quite often. 

When he nodded, you eased back into your bed and spread your legs wider for him, letting Cloud take control. Softly, almost experimenting with you, his tongue darted out to lick at your clit and you let out a moan. 

“Good?” he asked. 

You nodded, letting your eyes flutter shut. “I like more attention on my clit but you can finger me as well. Both at the same time are really good.”

His mouth was back on you as his finger toyed with your entrance, dragging it up and down while his mouth kissed and sucked at your clit. You moaned in pleasure, hands running through his hair to hold him steady. 

“That’s it. Just like that, Cloud,” you praised. “You can suck harder.” 

He did. His mouth wrapped around your clit to suck while his finger slowly fucked you. You wanted more, knew you could take at least three fingers, but didn’t want to rush Cloud with something he might not have been comfortable with. 

You hissed out in slight pain when Cloud used his teeth and he quickly gazed up at you. “Did I hurt you?” 

“No,” you shook your head. “I’m just not a fan of teeth. More tongue.” 

Nodding, Cloud’s mouth was back on your clit, now using his tongue to press circles against it and you groaned, writing your hips into his face. 

“You can add another finger,” you breathed, closing your eyes. 

He did and now with two fingers inside of you, Cloud found a good rhythm. While it felt good, your body beginning to relax with Cloud, you could tell you weren’t close at all. Which was fine, this wasn’t supposed to get you off but to help Cloud learn. 

Without your instructions, Cloud curled his fingers inside of you and a loud whimper fell from your lips. 

“Shit, that’s really good, Cloud. Keep doing that.”

Your fingers threaded through his hair as you kept his face close to you, nearly riding his face. Cloud must have liked the praise because his fingers inside of you worked faster while his tongue pressed flatly against your clit, dragging it up and down. Suddenly, the familiar white haze began to creep into your vision as your body began to shake. The burn was igniting in your lower stomach and you knew what was coming. 

Peering down, you watched with parted lips as Cloud was devouring your pussy, his face completely buried between your legs. He was humping your bed, nearly chasing his own high, and the sight was enough to make you cry out his name, riding out your orgasm against his face. Cloud’s moans were muffled as he ravaged you, eating your cunt like it was his last meal. Your cum was his favorite snack, licking and sucking as much as he could. It was as if he couldn’t stop, like he didn’t want to stop. 

“Cloud,” you choked on a breath before slowly removing his face from you. “Holy shit.” 

His lips and chin were soaked with your arousal and he quickly wiped it away with the back of his hand. 

“Was-was that good?” He asked, stammering on the first word. 

Seeing him like this made your heart flutter in your chest but you needed to remind yourself that this was strictly a lesson for him, nothing was to come of this. 

You let out a hum, nodding with a sly smirk. “That was really good. I’m kind of impressed.” 

Cloud let out a small chuckle before rising to his knees then looked at his hard cock. He groaned in pain as he palmed it, hoping to relieve some of the tension, and for a moment you thought about asking him if you could take care of it for him. 

Was that something he wanted, though?

©crowsofdarkness 𓅇

[graves4girls]

cherry waves // cloud strife

wc // 941 warnings // none a/n: short . experimental . i don't really know what this is but i had an itch and needed to scratch it

the sand beneath you is soft, velvety against the back of your bare legs–cooled from the luminescent rays of moonlight that paint you in a pale sheen of pearlescent white. the grains pillow your head comfortably, falling to take a new form as your neck swivels to the side.

he's breathtaking.

big, blue eyes–glowing with a dangerously addictive energy–fixed on the deep blue sky, long, blond lashes fluttering as he blinks, slow and heavy. his fair skin seems to shine under the rays, smooth and certainly cool to the touch from the chilled, salty air that envelopes the two of you.

it's late. you're not sure exactly how late, but it certainly has passed midnight, with the moon making her slow descend toward the horizon as you watch him.

he doesn't look at you just yet, but you know he can feel your eyes on him. he always knew when your stare landed on him. you'd always joked that the mako had given him a sixth sense. he doesn't entirely doubt it.

you take a moment to stargaze once more. each speckle of white in the endlessly vast sky shimmers beautifully, the constellations remind you of the freckles spattered across his cheeks. you'd mentioned the sentiment once before. his face had flushed a warm rouge at your words.

the hand resting atop your stomach slowly slides down until it lays flat in the sand, fingers blindly crawling along the ground in search of something.

eventually, you bump your hand into his, partially buried beneath the tan grains. he doesn't flinch at the touch. doesn't even avert his gaze. he lets you caress his knuckles, lets you trace along the veins that bulge beneath his skin.

your fingers curl into the juncture where his thumb and index connect, the rough calluses gently scraping against your fingertips as you do so.

his thumb twitches then, brushing over your ring finger.

he lets you turn his hand over. allows you to delicately run a fingertip along the cardinal line of his palm, even when it starts to tingle just a bit.

you map out each shallow crevice and hardened bump, grazing along the inside of his wrist and up his forearm before sliding back down to repeat the action.

a quiet huff from him has you peering over.

he breaks the soft silence with as much eloquence as he can muster, “that tickled.”

a light chortle breathes out of his lungs, and you smile at him.

“sorry,” you mutter fondly, resting your fingers in the spaces between his own.

his fist encloses yours easily, offering one gentle squeeze.

the waves lap quietly at the shore, seafoam fizzling against the wet, thickened sand each time the water pulls back. the distant sound of the town's nightlife seemed to cease long ago, but maybe you're imagining it. it's hard to say when the only thing on your mind is him.

for another time, your eyes gravitate to him. running along the straight edge of his nose, the curve of his lips, the angle of his jaw. you swear he's perfect. he profusely denies that.

his hair, strikingly blond and so very soft, sways gently in the briny breeze. his chest rises slowly, falling just as gingerly. one leg rests crossed over the other, ankles hooked together.

you could stare at him for eternity, you think.

he drums his fingers against the back of your hand once, to pull you back to reality.

“you're supposed to be watching the stars, not me.”

his expression doesn't shift, but his tone is anything but serious.

you roll onto your side now, releasing your hold on his hand to rest your palm beneath your cheek. “you're much more interesting to look at.”

even in the darkness of the night, you can see the sudden flush of his face.

“stop saying things like that.”

you want to tease him. to tell him he's cute when he's flustered. but you also want to tell him that every time you look at him, you fall that much more in love with him. that every press of his skin against yours sends electricity crackling through your veins, no matter how many times he's touched you. that every moment spent with him is a reward thrust upon you by the universe.

but you're not quite sure how to say all of that. so you don't.

instead, you just gaze at him. reach out a hand to brush the side of his face, caressing his heated skin.

he looks at you now. looks at your eyes, then your lips, then your eyes again.

you lift yourself to rest your weight on an elbow in the sand.

you lean closer to him, dipping your head until your lips are ghosting over his. he's the one to seal the gap.

his hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, long fingers bending to the curve of your neck as if they were made to hold you just like this. his lips slot perfectly with yours.

the kiss is unhurried. deep, heavy with emotion and confessions yet to breach the thick air, words that don't need to be spoken just yet.

you're the one to part from him, gulping a lungful of air as he stares at you. something swirls in his eyes, something other than mako.

“it's getting late. we should head back,” he sighs, but you notice that he doesn't make any effort to pull away from you.

you nod softly.

he plants one more longing kiss to your plush lips, like he can't help himself. you smile into it. you think he does too.

[blushingmateria]

☁︎𝜗𝜚 One Too Many | Cloud Strife 𝜗𝜚☁︎

-18+ content ahead minors please do not interact-

Pairing: Cloud Strife x female reader

Summary: After a night of drinks at Seventh Heaven, the rest of Avalanche drift home one by one until you and Cloud are left alone. Drunk and overconfident, you confess the feelings you’ve kept hidden, and though Cloud tries to restrain himself, his walls crumble.

Warnings: Loss of male virginity, explicit sexual content (graphic depictions of foreplay, fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving), and p in v sex), unprotected sex, alcohol consumption/intoxication, cursing, creampie...

(this was briefly proofread so i apologize if i missed anything!)

Word Count: 3.9k

The night had stretched on longer than anyone planned. Seventh Heaven was a mess - empty glasses everywhere, half-drunk beers abandoned on the counter. The whole place still buzzed with leftover laughter. Barret was the first to leave, grumbling something about ‘being too old for this shit’, next was Jessie, then Tifa, then Biggs and Wedge, then finally Aerith. 

“Well guys, don’t have too much fun without us!” She winked before turning to leave. 

That left you and Cloud at the bar. Alone. 

You weren’t exactly the picture of poise with your elbows propped against the counter as you tried to keep your head from reeling. The alcohol left your cheeks flushed and eyes glassy, a loose smile plastered on your face, everything was twice as funny with the whiskey flowing through your veins. 

Cloud, of course, was composed as ever. Looking almost statuesque as he sat on the barstool. But even his reserved nature couldn’t hide the pink dusting his cheeks and the slight haze in his eyes. His arms were folded across his chest, the Buster Sword leaning against the wall beside him. 

“You’re impossible,” you mutter out with a laugh, tilting your head towards him. “I’ve had what? Two or three drinks, and I’m already like this. You have just as many. and you’re still sitting there like… like some stoic statue.” 

Cloud’s lips twitch, the faintest hint of a smile evident on his pink lips before he reached for his glass. “Guess I’m used to keeping it together,” he said, voice low, almost amused. 

You let out a slightly over dramatic sigh and leaned in a little closer, your shoulder brushing against his toned arm. “Of course you are. You’re always keeping it together. You’re always… I dunno. Protecting everyone. Holding the weight of the planet on your shoulders and here I am,” you hiccuped softly, then giggled again, “can’t even handle my drinks.” 

That made him look at you, like really look at you. You swore you could see his ears turn pink and his pupils dilate. He cleared his throat and looked away from you. “Don’t say things like that when you’re drunk.”

“Why not?” you teased, tilting your head and batting your lashes at him. Your hazy gaze lingered on him, softer than you intended. “It’s true though, Cloud. You’re a hero. My hero.”

The words slipped out from your mouth before you could even process them but they were honest. 

Cloud stiffened. Long fingers tightening around his glass, his jaw shifting like he wasn’t sure whether to retreat or argue. His silence stretched, before saying, “... You should drink some water.” 

Cloud stood first, his chair screeching against the wooden floorboards of the bar. He fetched his sword and fastened it onto his back. He reached for your whiskey glass, grabbing it from your hands giving you no time to protest. 

“You’ve had enough.” His tone was firm, almost protective. 

You pouted, and crossed your arms, “Bossy.” 

“C’mon,” he said, ignoring your complaint. “I’ll walk you upstairs.” 

It wasn’t really up for debate, his hand was already grasping your elbow, steadying you as you clumsily slid off the bar stool. Your legs wobbled like you’d forgotten how to use them, and you stumbled into him with a breathless laugh. 

“See?” Cloud muttered, catching you against his hard chest. His body was warm, solid, and smelled faintly of leather and whiskey. “You’d never make it on your own.”

“I could,” you insisted, even as you clung onto the fabric of his shirt. “Eventually. Probably.”

He sighed, that same quiet exasperated sound that always seemed to hide something softer. With a firm guiding hand at the small of your back, he steered you towards the stairs. Each step creaked with your combined weight as you leaned into him, your head brushing his shoulder. 

By the time you’d reached your door, the giggling started again as Cloud reached into your pocket and grabbed the key, opening the door and guiding you inside. You plopped onto the edge of your bed with a slight bounce, grinning up at him. 

“See,” you said, flexing your arms playfully. “Made it!”

Cloud didn’t even smile this time, just knelt in front of you and began unzipping your boots with careful precision. The sight of him beneath you startled you into silence. His gloved hands were gentle as he tugged each boot off and set them aside.  

“You don’t have to–” 

“Just sit still,” he cuts in, glancing up briefly through his blonde bangs. His mako blue eyes seemed softer than his tone. 

You watched him, your heart beating faster than the alcohol could explain. He picked out a t-shirt and shorts for you to change into.

“I’ll turn around.” he turns and you change. You were sure he could hear the way your heart was pattering against your chest. 

“Okay done.” He turns back around, eyes glancing down at the white t-shirt, your nipples poking against the almost see through fabric. His gaze remained fixed for a second, jaw tightening before he cleared his throat and snapped his eyes back to your face.

You watched as he walked over to you and helped lower you onto the bed. He tugs the comforter over your lap and hands you a glass of water. 

“Drink this,” he said, voice quiet but insistent. 

You take the glass obediently, fingers brushing against his as you grab it. The contact lingered for a beat too long, sending a strange shiver down your spine.

“You’re too good to me, Cloud,” you murmured, half-drowsy, half-emboldened by the alcohol. You smiled at him, soft and sweet. “You could leave me here, y’know. Lock the door and go brood on the balcony or… whatever it is that you do in your sparetime.” 

He shook his head, eyes flicking away as if the pink rug on your floor had suddenly become very interesting. “...Not happening.” 

And then, before you could even realize what you were doing, the words slipped out. 

“That’s why I like you so much.” 

The silence that followed was heavy, thick enough to sober you a little. Cloud’s breath hitched as he froze where he stood, shoulders rigid. His fingers flexed at his side, knuckles whitening as he clenched his fists. 

For a long moment, he didn’t turn around. You could only see the ridges of his shoulderblades flexing, the tension winding through every muscle like a bowstring pulled too tight. 

Finally, he exhaled through his nose, shoulders falling. His breath was shaky, uneven. “...Don’t say things like that,” he murmured, his voice huskier than usual. “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

You sat up a little straighter, your heart hammering in your chest. “But it’s true,” you whispered, almost pleading. “I mean it, Cloud. I’ve always felt it. The drinks just… made me feel brave enough to finally say it.”

That got him to move. Slowly, Cloud turned, his eyes catching yours in the dim lamp light. He crossed the space between you in just a few careful steps, every cell in his body coiled in feigned restraint. You were completely sat up now, knees perched on the plush of your bed. He leaned down slightly, just enough to be level with you. One calloused hand lifted and hovered, hesitating, before finally caressing your cheek. 

His eyes searched your face, whiskey laced breath fanning over yours. “This is a mistake,” he murmured, thumb tracing the outline of your bottom lip. Your breathing stuttered, eyes looking up into his. 

His own gaze flickered down to your lips, “I can’t take advantage of you like this.” 

You leaned into his palm, feeling the warm, rough skin. Your own smaller hand came up to cover his. “You’re not. I want this. I want you.” 

Cloud’s breath stuttered, and he let out a sound dangerously close to a whimper, the cracks of his resolve widening. He swallowed hard, as if the words were stuck in his throat, then whispered, almost to himself, “You’re going to ruin me.” 

And yet… he didn’t pull away. 

For a heartbeat neither of you moved. The world around you had gone silent aside from the hum of mako energy, the heavy thud of your heartbeat and the uneven catch in Cloud’s breath. His hand was still cupping your cheek, his thumb trembling faintly against the warmth of your skin as though he couldn't decide whether to draw closer or flee. 

You tilted your head just slightly, brushing your lips against his thumb. The tiny contact made his chest rise sharply, his breath catching as though you’d just knocked the wind out of him. 

“Cloud…” you whispered. 

That was all it took. His last remaining shards of resolve had completely shattered. 

He leaned in, almost painstakingly slow, until his lips finally met yours. The kiss was clumsy, but it was real. His mouth moved against yours gently, almost as if he would break you. He wasn’t sure how much of himself he was allowed to give.

You made a small sound, and that broke something deep inside him. His other hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss in a way that betrayed how badly he’d been holding back his desires. 

He kissed you like a man starved. Each brush of his lips against yours carried years of restrained yearning he’d never dared put into words. 

When you finally parted for air, Cloud rested his forehead against yours, his breath unsteady and frantic. His lips tingled as if the memory of your mouth burned there, and his heart thundered so hard he thought you might feel it through his chest.

“I don’t…” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard. “I don’t really know what I’m doing. But I can’t-” He stopped himself, jaw tightening. “I can’t stop wanting you.” He whimpered slightly, right hand resting on your hip. 

Your hands slid up his chest, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin and the rapid thump of his heartbeat. “Then don't," you whispered, leaning your head back up towards his lips. 

This time, he didn’t hesitate. His mouth found yours again, harder. Each kiss destroying the walls of resolve he’d spent years putting up. He kissed you like you were his last meal on earth, like you were a delicacy meant to be savored. 

And still, even in his inexperience, every movement screamed of how much he yearned for you, not just desire, but visceral need. The kind of need that had been caged for so long, now spilling out in every kiss and moan. He needed you like you were oxygen and every kiss proved it. 

Your lips were still tangled with Cloud’s. He pulled away from you and you groaned, only to feel his wet lips attach to the pulse point of your neck. Small moans and whimpers tumbled from your throat as he nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin. “...Cloud,” you whimpered. The sound wrecked him. It shot straight to the throbbing hardness straining against his pants, making him groan low and ragged into your skin.

Cloud’s thoughts were a storm. He had imagined this, he hated himself for how often, but reality was so much more unbearable. She’s soft. She’s warm. She wants me. His hand slid higher, brushing the edge of your shirt, and the skin-to-skin contact burned. His jaw tightened. 

You shifted closer, desperate for more, and pushed him back onto your floral comforter. Straddling his hips, you pressed your clothed core against the hard length beneath his pants. The pressure drew a strangled groan from him, his eyes fluttering shut, head tipping back against the mattress. For a man who had faced death countless times, he looked utterly undone beneath you.

When his eyes snapped open again, the mako glow was glassy with need. He pulled you down into another searing kiss, teeth clashing and tongues molding together. Then, he broke it, just long enough to whisper against your lips, voice cracking.

“Tell me what you want. Please… I need to hear you say it.” 

Your answer came in the form of a grind of your clothed cunt against his erection, dragging the heat of your core over the stiff line of his cock. His breath tore out of him and his hands flew to your thighs, gripping like he might fall apart if he didn’t hold onto something solid. “Need you s’bad, Cloud.” you whined, core aching and dripping.

“Fuck-” Cloud’s voice cracked, low and shaky. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

Oh but you did, you felt him. Every twitch, every pulse, every throb, you felt it all. You felt the tentative shake in his hands as they dragged up your body, brushing over the curve of your waist, before hesitantly skimming the side of your right breast like he was afraid to touch too much of you all at once. 

“Cloud,” you whispered, taking one of his trembling hands and pressing it against your breast. His palm was warm even through the shirt, calluses catching on fabric. You arched into him, encouraging. 

His eyes widened, mouth falling open slightly as though he couldn’t quite believe you wanted this, wanted him. “...You’re so soft,” he breathed, fingers flexing unconsciously. He thumbed over your nipple through the fabric, and when you gasped, his cock twitched violently against you, a groan ripping out of his chest. 

You tugged at the hem of your shirt. “Take it off of me.” you whined. 

For a moment he froze then obeyed, fumbling clumsily with the fabric before pulling it over your head and discarding it on the floor. His breath caught audibly when he saw you bare before him, and he just… stopped. Stared. His lips parted, chest rising and falling like he’d run a mile. His eyes darted between each breast, like he was afraid to miss a single detail. 

His voice cracked, reverent. “You’re so beautiful.” 

When his hands finally cupped your breasts, it wasn’t smooth or practiced, it was needy. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, making you moan and arch into him, your own hands tangling in his blond spikes as you kissed him again, sloppy and desperate. 

“Want to see you too,” you whisper. Your fingers trailed down his chest, feeling the hard lines of muscle beneath his shirt. His breathing stuttered as you tugged it up, exposing his skin to the cool air, and he lifted his arms clumsily to let you pull it over his head.

He was beautiful, lean and strong, scars scattered across his pale skin, but his eyes held none of the cocky pride of a man who knew his effect. Instead, they were wide and vulnerable like he wasn’t used to being seen. 

You kissed your way down his throat, his chest, listening to every sharp inhale, every shiver. When you shifted lower and palmed him through his pants, his whole body jolted beneath you.

“Wait-” His voice cracked, but his hips bucked helplessly into your hand. His cock twitched violently, straining against the fabric. “I- fuck-”

You smiled against his skin, tugging his waistband down just enough to free him. He was thick, tip flushed red and dripping with precum, the sight alone making your mouth water. When you wrapped your warm mouth around him, his head fell back against the pillow, a ragged moan tearing out of him.

 “Shit- you- I can’t-” He was already trembling, thighs taut, every bob of your head was pulling him closer to the edge far too quickly. He clutched at the comforter, fists tight, trying to hold himself back, but when you buried his cock so deep in your throat that your nose pressed against his pubic bone, he felt his balls tighten and his hips jerked violently.

“F-fuck-stop, stop-” he gasped, voice raw. His hand shot out, gripping your hair, pulling you up before he came embarrassingly quick. His cheeks burned red, his chest heaving. “I almost-I would’ve-” He swallowed hard, eyes squeezing shut in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I've never done this before..."

You straddled him again, cupping his flushed face until he opened those glowing eyes. “Cloud. Don’t apologize. Do you want to try and help me?” you crawled off of him and leaned back against your pillows, spreading your legs slightly. He nods slowly, feeling unsure of himself but his cock twitches at your request. He shifts over to you and removes your cotton shorts, leaving you in just your gray panties with a little pink bow nestled on the waistband. He glances down at the wet spot that had formed and he gulps. “Fuck…” His voice was hoarse. “That’s because of me?” You nod, hips jerking upwards instinctively. 

He swells with pride at the sight. He pulls your panties down your legs, your wetness attaching to the fabric causing strings of sticky arousal. You clench, feeling the cold air hitting your warm pussy. Cloud licks his lips at the sight. Then suddenly, you grab his wrist guiding it down, “Now, do slow circles here.” you place his hand on your puffy clit.

Cloud followed your instruction with sharp concentration, eyes fixed on you like you and your pretty pussy were the only things in the world. He was tentative at first, but when your head tipped back and a moan slipped out, his whole body shivered. His strokes grew more confident, more eager, like he was desperate to learn everything that made you fall apart. 

When your hips bucked into his hand, he let out a soft, needy sound, half whimper, half groan, before dipping a finger inside you. The heat and tightness around him made him choke out a curse. 

“Am I doing it right?”

“Yes- fuck don’t stop.” you moan breathlessly. 

He obeyed, curling his fingers clumsily, watching in awe as your body writhed under his touch. When you trembled and finally came undone around his hand, crying out his name, Cloud stared like he’d just witnessed something holy. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his lips parted in stunned silence. 

Then, hesitantly, he pulled his fingers out and looked at the slick coating them. His tongue darted out before he caught himself, face flushing deep red. 

You caught his wrist and brought his fingers to his lips. “Taste me.”

His eyes darkened, and when he obeyed, sliding his tongue over his fingers, groaning low at the taste, something inside him had awoken. He leaned down, pressing his mouth to your core, desperate to taste more. 

His tongue was unpracticed, too rough at first, but your hands in his hair helped him find the right rhythm. And once he heard those pretty moans spilling from your lips, Cloud latched onto your clit with an intensity that had you gasping his name again, his fingers curling inside you with a perfect pressure. 

When you came the second time, thighs trembling around his head, Cloud didn’t pull back. He groaned against you, drinking in every shudder, like he was addicted to the nectar dripping from your sweet cunt. “Fuck Cloud. That was amazing.”

And when he finally pulled away, lips and chin glistening, his voice was desperate, “I need to be inside you. Please. I can’t- I can’t wait anymore.”

You straddled him again, pushing him against the pillows, you positioned your hips above his. His cock bobs before you grasp him in your hand, giving him a few light tugs that leave him breathless, before lining him up with your entrance. You abruptly stop and Cloud’s head snaps up, “What’s wrong?” chest still heaving. 

“I don’t have a condom…” you say, voice faltering. 

“I-it’s okay. Just need to feel you, please.” he whimpers. The noise made your pussy clench and you nod, realigning his cock with your entrance.  

His eyes widened when the head of his cock pressed against your wetness, the raw heat of you making him groan, fists tightening in the sheets.

“Wait-fuck, you’re really-” His words broke off into a sharp gasp as you sank down onto him, inch by inch. His head tipped back, mouth falling open as if the sheer tightness around him was too much to bear. “O-oh f-f-fuck…” you mewl out. 

“Holy shit. You’re so tight, you’re so perfect.” His voice cracked, every muscle in his body trembling as you bottomed out. Your pussy flutters around him causing his hips to jerk. 

You paused to let him breathe, hands resting on his chest. His heart was pounding like a metronome beneath your palms. “You okay?” looking down at his flushed face. 

He nodded lazily, eyes glazed. “Just don’t move yet. Please. I’ll cum too quickly.”

You smiled and leaned down to kiss him, slow and sweet, letting him adjust. His lips moved in perfect sync with your own, his hands hovering like he didn’t know where to touch until instinct finally took over. He cupped your breasts, squeezing gently, thumbs brushing across your nipples. The moan it pulled from you made his hips twitch up helplessly. 

When you finally began to rock your hips, his hands shot to the plush flesh of your ass like he needed an anchor. “Fuck, don’t-don’t stop.” His voice was hoarse, nearly pleading. 

Riding him was intoxicating, the way his cock filled you, the way his face contorted with every grind of your hips. He stared up at you like he’d never seen anything so beautiful, breathless groans slipping past his lips each time you took him deeper. You sat up straighter and reached behind your back, cupping his balls, squeezing and palming them. Cloud moaned out louder than he had intended to and his grip on your ass tightened. 

Your pace quickened, chasing your own release, and Cloud’s control cracked. His hips bucked up into you, erratic, desperate thrusts that made you cry out. Your tits bounced in front of his face as he fucked up into you, “I’m-shit, I’m so close, I can’t-” He was nearly incoherent, eyes squeezing shut, jaw clenched tight as if he was fighting it with everything he had. But then you moaned his name, and something inside him snapped. 

He sat up suddenly, arms circling your waist, grinding you down onto him as his mouth latched onto your breast. His tongue was hot and messy against your nipple, teeth grazing just enough to make your back arch.

One arm stayed wrapped around your waist while the other fumbled down between you, fingers rubbing at your clit in frantic circles. “Cum with me-please, I want you to- please-, cum for me baby.” he pleads. 

The mix of his cock pulsing inside you, his mouth sucking at your nipple, and the fast strokes on your clit tipped you over that delicious edge. Your orgasm tore through you violently, and Cloud fell apart with you, thrusting up into your dripping pussy with a guttural moan.

His release filled you in hot, unrelenting pulses, his body jerking as if he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. He buried his face against your chest, panting, almost whining with the intensity of it.

When you both finally came down from your simultaneous orgasms, he collapsed back against the pillow, arms still locked tight around you. His cheeks were flushed, lips parted, eyes glassy as he tried to catch his breath.

There was a beat of silence, the two of you catching your breath. He didn’t say anything, just pulled you closer and stroked your hair. You laid your head against his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat calming, until finally, “I love you.” Cloud wasn’t sure of many things but this, this he was sure of. 

You smiled, sleepy and spent (and maybe a little cockdrunk), “I love you too, Cloud.”

a/n: yall, i haven't written smut in YEARS but Cloud Strife genuinely has me so down bad.

[midgarangel]

ꗃ plaything | cloud strife ☁️

summary: pretty much a sequel to “i could use your help.”

contents: nsfw! cloud strife x fem reader, movie night, full on switch cloud lets gooo, choking, penetration, more whimpering whaaa who said that!? fake jealous needy reader who just wants an excuse to give cloud hickeys.

words: 2.5k

—

His room was much more illuminated considering the amount of candles you made him. It had been a week since your spontaneous night with Cloud. Right now he was on an outing with Jessie, something about finding more supplies for the next few missions. Meanwhile you were spinning in his desk chair waiting for him to come back.

There was laughter and conversation coming from down the hall. Soon a key entered the lock and in came the man of the hour.

“Night Cloud!!!!” Jessie shouted.

“Night Jessie.” He walked in, closed the door, and took a long inhale, sniffing the room. Happy to see you here, he knew you’d be here.

“Vanilla?”

“Yeah. Do you like it?” You asked waiting for his approval, kicking your feet back and forth.

“S-alright.” He hung up his armor then rummaged for loungewear. Settling on some gray sweats and a black t-shirt. You shamelessly watched him undress then get dressed.

“Eyes up here.” He said shaking his head smirking.

You rolled your eyes playfully,

“..You know she has a crush on you right?”

“Jessie?”

“Yes Cloud, who else?”

“You sound jealous.”

“Wha- I-”

“Someone’s jealous.”

He adjusted his clothes then walked over to you. pinching your cheek and popping a chocolate in his mouth. You brought chocolate? How sweet. Noting you were wearing a cute sleep set too. Something about your outfits really got him going.

“Am not…just…she’s pretty obvious. ”

“You have nothing to worry about.” Cloud said chuckling, now caressing your face. You fell into his touch.

“Wanna watch a movie?”

—

About 45 minutes into the movie you were getting a bit bored. Even though you loved the movie currently on, practically begging Cloud to give it a chance, you couldn’t focus.

Especially because of the position you both were in. You sat in between his legs up against his chest. Popcorn bowl on your lap, he’d reach for some. Seemingly very interested in the movie you chose.

His other hand resting on your stomach, close to where you wanted him to touch you most.

“Aw man I hope he gets out of the cave.” Cloud said as he grabbed some more popcorn.

You knew the scene he was referring to, you had seen it already. Instead your mind was coming up with ways to distract him. You wiggled a little pretending to get comfy.

Cloud laughed at the next scene.

“Yeah he’s done for. No way they’re getting out of there.”

And so were you. You were aching, this was torture.

You wiggled a bit more, this time turning over on your side so your cheek was on his chest.

“All good?” He asked looking down at you.

“Mhm.” You replied tracing the veins on his arms, then his hands.

He was invested in the movie but couldn’t help but wonder what you were up to.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Admiring.”

Admiring?

“My arm?”

“And your hand.”

“Right.” He flexed his arm for you jokingly.

You wanted to bite him at this point. He was driving you insane.

“Kinda want them on me.” You said quietly.

“Oh.”

Oh?

You got up sitting on your heels still inbetween him. Essentially blocking his view of the movie.

He gasped a little when you gave him a tiny kiss on the corner of his mouth. Straddling him, you guided one of his hands to your hip and the other to your neck, urging him to squeeze a bit.

He raised an eyebrow at you, hesitant to do it. You made a noise he wanted to hear all night. Very turned on by his hand around your throat. Then with a smile you took your hand and placed it on his neck, not choking just yet.

“Is this ok?”

Cloud nodded fervently. Your pretty, little fingertips wrapping around him, feeling his rapid pulse against your hand.

“You’re enjoying this yeah?” He could tell you were, he just wanted to hear you say it.

“So are you.” You rebutted not giving him the satisfaction.

You held his neck a little tighter then let go making him shamelessly gasp. Tracing his lips then his jawline, all the way to his neck you just had your hand on.

“Cloud you’re so pretty.”

He was blushing but you couldn’t tell with how dark the room was.

You kissed his neck a bit, he sighed into it. Still grinding on him here and there, the movie was forgotten at this point, playing in the background.

“Wanna mark you…” You said hazily, still kissing and licking his neck.

You heard a strained ‘Fuck’ fall from his lips. He couldn’t fucking breathe. He was seeing stars.

“Wanna make Jessie jealous.”

“She’s just a f-friend..”

Of course she was. You knew she was. But it couldn’t hurt to let her assume Cloud was taken just by glancing at his neck on their next mission right?

“Wanna make you my plaything.” Was the last thing you said.

His hands holding your hips tighter once he felt you suck. One hickey right under his ear, the other on the side of his neck.

The realization has a cute moan leaving his lips as he feels hot all over at your debaunched behavior. He wanted to do the same to you, maybe later.

“Plaything?” Cloud asked.

You nodded watching his next move.

He took your hand back toward his throat, guiding it there, his own fingers pressing yours into place.

“Do it again… harder this time.”

Your stomach flipped, a mix of nerves and something electric sparking through you. Curling your fingers around his neck, feeling the pulse thudding under your grip. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, watching you, daring you.

You tightened your hold just enough. His head tipped back, a low groan rumbling out of him, eyes fluttering half-shut.

“l-like that? i-is that fine?” You whispered, unsure but caught up in the way he was looking at you, like you’d just unlocked something he didn’t even know he wanted.

“More than fine…” He breathed, hands digging into your thighs, urging you closer. “Please don’t stop.”

Keeping a steady pace as your hips grind over his, it felt delicious. Though it was getting hot and your clothes were acting as barriers.

He groans, leaning back down, nosing against the soft spot beneath your jaw. He doesn’t wanna stop but he’s so painfully hard against your shorts he's fucking leaking.

“..Can you lay down for me?”

His tough demeanor melting more and more every time you guys were together. You giggled at his sudden request, lying yourself down underneath him.

Cloud laughed softly. His eyes searching yours while his thumb trailed up the side of your neck to angle your face and give him more access. The way you might look helpless, pinned beneath him like this, but the way he knows you're anything but.

He loves that about you, how you never back down, how you can flip the tables on him. How you end up straddling his hips, your thin fingers, so much stronger than they look, wrapped around his throat. The coolness of your fingertips as you squeeze them gently making his vision blur with want.

But that was a few moments ago, this is different. Half of your clothes discarded somewhere on his floor.

"Fuck," he breathes out.

His erection straining against the inside of his boxers as it presses against your bare abdomen. A lift of your hips is all the indication he needs from you to tell him that you're as desperate for this as he is right now, and so he gingerly begins to slide one of his hands down the front of your shorts.

His touch dips under the waistband, before you can process the sensation, you realize that he's moving down into your panties too. One thing that you are very aware of is the fact that he never tries to break eye contact while he does all of this.

“Ahh.." you moan, your brows pinching up as you feel his warm fingertips brush over your throbbing, sensitive nub.

He was hardly touching you, but it was enough to get the fire roaring within. It was more than enough. He knew all the right ways to touch you. All the right spots to squeeze and caress, which seemed crazy considering you had to guide his hand towards your throat earlier.

He smiles gently, his eyes now moving to gaze down at your lips. The pads of Clouds fingers begin to play with your clit, rubbing soft and incessant circles over the ball of nerves as you start to squirm on the bed.

His head leans back down to kiss your neck and your hands shakily grab onto his shoulders. A laugh escapes him, coating your flesh in a bath of warm air, while he feels your nails dig into him. Even over the fabric of his cotton tee shirt he can feel this, and he winces slightly before the sting of your grip dissolves into pleasure and he starts to moan along with you.

A few more minutes of this continues. The band in your stomach is stretched more and more until it feels like it's about to snap, and then-

"I really need you," Cloud murmurs against your skin, his fingers coming to a pause as he pulls his face from the crook of your neck to look down into your dazed eyes.

You blink a few times, feeling the numbing pressure in your pussy start to fade as he unintentionally edges you.

"Yes..please.. I need you too..” You softly whimper. Your hands reaching up to needily tug at his shirt.

The moment the words leave your mouth, he's letting out soft breathy moans and grinding his clothed pelvis against your thigh. You can feel him throbbing through the fabric, and now you're certain you can't wait much longer. Neither can he.

Your hands pull on his shirt again, forcing his face back down close to yours, "I want you inside of me.."

A groan and a grunt later, he's scrambling to pull his shirt off, and then his sweatpants. His strong calloused hands are gently tugging your shorts down as well. Cloud doesn't want to waste time on the act of undressing. Sure, he liked being tender and going slow most times but now wasn’t the time.

The more that he felt himself leaking into his underwear, the more he needed to feel your pussy grip around his cock.

When your panties are pulled down with your shorts, Cloud lets out a groan as he sees the fabric connecting with your delicate flesh by a glistening string of arousal from your heat.

"You’re unreal." He huffs.

“No you.” You stare back at him adoringly.

His tongue moving to dip out over his bottom lip involuntarily. He pushes your shorts and panties down the rest of the way, and you urgently kick them off onto the room's floor.

After he moves back up, one of his hands reaches down once again to your cunt. His fingers gently brush over your slicked-up folds, causing your body to jolt and shudder as you struggle to remain quiet.

In the next instant, you feel his touch leave your body and you watch in awe as he brings his fingers up to his lips to suck your juices off of them. He rolls your wetness around over his tongue and his eyes roll back a little. He can't help it—you just taste so fucking good.

"Cloud…” You whisper, "c'mon.. just-I want you to-"

You're cut off when the man hovering over your form moves his fingers from his mouth and down to yours, effectively shutting you up.

"Suck," he whispers.

You do as you're told instantly, parting your lips to engulf his middle and ring finger in wet heat; your drool pools over his fingertips as your tongue swirls around them and tastes the mix of his saliva and the remnants of your arousal.

He watches with bated breath as you do this, his eyes never leaving your face, and he can’t stop himself from pushing his hard, clothed dick against your bare cunt. Your eyes flutter. A string of whimpers echo out into the room from your chest, and you can feel more of your wetness slide down from your entrance.

Cloud keeps his fingers in your mouth as he uses his other hand to pull his hard-on out of his black boxer briefs, groaning as he taps your clit with the tip of it a few times. Each time his leaking head touches your sensitive parts, your hips buck up. He didn't think it was physically possible to get as turned on as he was right then.

The feeling of your heady moans around his fingers cause them to vibrate, and he leans down close to your face on instinct.

Your breath catches in your throat. Your eyes blink open and you whimper as he uses his digits to gently force your lips to part so that he can shove his tongue past them. Cloud licks at the inside of your mouth, groaning while he subtly removes his fingers and brings them down to your clit once more.

He slots your bundle of nerves between his index and middle finger, sliding them up and down to effectively stroke over your most sensitive area as you feel his dick prodding at your hole.

While his tongue laps over yours, his mouth eagerly swallowing the obscenely loud moans you're letting out as your climax approaches once again, he begins to slide his tip into you. Your eyes instantly open wide before your face scrunches up in pleasure and your hands desperately paw at his shoulders.

This is what you had been wanting since you turned that beloved yet forgotten movie on earlier.

He slides in another inch and then he bottoms out completely, filling you whole. With his twitching length as he pulls his face back from your lips to gasp softly.

You look up at him as his brows furrow, and you wriggle underneath him as he lets out a soft growl.

"You're so tight-fuck..you feel so good." He murmurs lowly, his eyes on yours as he starts to slide himself slowly back out before thrusting back in.

“Harder? Please Cloud..”

“Yeah?” He smirks, breathing heavily.

“Mhmm..”

He leans up so that his back is straight, and he gazes down at you while he slides his hands under your form to gingerly cup your lower back.. and then he's pounding into you without further warning.

Your back arches up from his hold. Each movement of his hips results in a lewd squelch as his pelvis slaps into the underside of your ass.

He's groaning and moaning above you, watching your every move as you squirm around and take him properly. You wanna be good for him. He can tell. He wants to be good for you too.

Whimpers and needy whines are forced out of you as he fucks you with abandon into the mattress, and your mind is forced back into reality once you feel his hands move from your back to your sensitive tits.

"Are you gonna cum? You're squeezing down on me.” He breathes out, a loud groan cutting his words off as he tips his head back. His thrusts grow sloppier,

"Oh god, oh fff-u-uck.."

"Ye-mmmf..yes.." You hoarsely and brokenly moan out, unable to fully give him an answer. Your hands fist the cool sheets under you as your legs start to involuntarily squeeze together with the onslaught of your impending orgasm.

Cloud brings his head back up to look down at you, and he shakes his head, sliding his hands down from your breasts to your legs to lift them up and spread them apart gently but forcefully.

"Keep them spread.. I know you're close," he says softly to you.

"I promise I'll let you come.. just keep being good for me.. I'm almost there.." He continued.

Once his words fill your fuzzy head, you can't help but let out an obscenely loud—borderline-pornographic—moan as your thighs shake in his hold. His cock slams into you faster, but with less and less precision. He bites his lip before his jaw slacks and he lets out an equally loud moan to accompany your filthy noises.

"You're so fucking pretty... you're so— you feel so damn good," he babbles gruffly, his touch digging into your legs as his hips rashly thrust his throbbing length in and out of your sopping pussy.

You nod, unsure of what to say or how to even respond in the state that your body is in. You're somehow limp and tense at the same time, your body shivering as your back arches up again.

"I— I'm gonna—!" you gasp out in a shaky whimper.

He moans at your words, fucking you deeper and messier, before he leans down over you and you can feel his broad toned chest press against yours.

"Say it.." he breathes out against your ear in a soft groan. His hand reappearing this time on your neck.

You moan deeply, shuddering under him as your cunt starts to rhythmically tighten around him.

"I'm gonna cum," you whine, nearly sobbing.

"Fuck," he groans, "yeah? Say it again for me."

"I'm gonna cummm-!"

"Gonna cum on my dick?"

You nod helplessly, your arms wrapped around his flushed upper back as his cock slides in and out of you, his tip constantly brushing up against that special spot in your velvety walls hidden just a couple inches inside.

Before you can process what's going on, your body is overwhelmed with an overpowering heat as the last thing you distinctly feel is one of Clouds hands moving down your lower abdomen to then rub circles over your swollen bud with his thumb. And that's all it takes — you’re thrown over the edge.

He groans harshly and loudly against your warm skin before his hips stutter with the feeling of your hole pulsing around him. He keeps his digit rubbing incessant, soft circles over your clit to prolong your orgasm as he forces himself to pull out with a gasp.

As you moan tremblingly and bask in your afterglow, you try to catch your breath as you shakily push yourself up onto your elbows just in time to watch Cloud squirt out a thick load over your torso. Rope after rope of sticky white fluid drips and gushes from his cock and between his fingers as he jerks himself off. Whimpering deeply over you and letting out little "fuck’s” and "oh my god’s” and "yes’s.”

He breathes heavily, biting his lip as he watches your body shake. He loves the way his cum looks on your beautiful body.. it's like liquid pearl splattered all over you. He takes several mental pictures of the scene in front of him before he collapses on top of you with a soft grin.

You chuckle breathily, wrapping your arms around him as your warm bodies stick together in the aftermath, and he presses two soft kisses to your neck. One of your hands slides up from between his shoulder blades to run some of your fingers through his messy spiky hair. He shivers and sighs, sliding his hands under your body to hold you closer to him.

A small period of comfortable silence is held between you two as you both work to catch your breaths, before Cloud is the one to break the quiet with a soft murmur into your shoulder.

“That was a great movie.”

“Stopppp!” You said laughingly.

“What? It was! Perfect ending.” He kissed your shoulder.

You and Cloud spent the rest of the night enjoying eachothers company.

—

this is my longest fic on this acc so far!! as always, i hope you enjoyed xx <3

[ichigf]

୨୧﹕fem!reader, riding cloud strife

cloud’s hands are fisted in the sheets like he’s trying to tether himself to reality.

he’s flat on his back—gorgeous even like this, flushed and helpless, golden bangs stuck to his forehead with sweat, glossy lips parted around soft, desperate whimpers. you’re straddling his hips, dripping wet, riding him with that mean, devastating rhythm, slamming down on his cock over and over again while his brain short-circuits under you.

“f-fuck—s–slow down,” he gasps, voice high and cracking, his eyes wide and dazed. “you’re—too much—fuck, you’re so tight—”

you don’t slow down. you grin.

“can’t handle me, soldier?” you purr, dragging your nails down his chest. his abs flex under your touch, thighs twitching as you roll your hips down and grind, letting his cock drag along every inch of your walls. he whimpers again, biting his lip, chest heaving.

god, he’s so fucked. red in the face, pupils blown, every part of him tensed like he’s either gonna come or cry.

“you’re gonna cum again, aren’t you?” you whisper, leaning down, kissing just under his ear. “just from me riding you. like a good little—”

he growls.

and then he snaps.

in one brutal, fluid motion, cloud sits up—arms locking around your waist, face buried in your throat—and slams his hips up into you, hard enough to knock the air from your lungs.

“ah—cloud—!”

“oh, now you’re whining?” he snarls, voice suddenly dark, thick with frustration and heat. “you wanna ride me like a fucking brat, huh? bounce up and down like you own it?”

he fucks up into you again—harder—deeper, and your whole body jolts. his grip on your waist is bruising now, holding you in place while he pistons his cock into you from below, the mattress shaking with every punishing thrust.

you’re not riding him anymore. he’s using you.

“feel that?” he hisses, forehead pressed to yours, sweat dripping from his temple. “that’s mine.”

you try to speak—try to moan, cry, something—but it’s all just broken gasps now. you’re drooling, eyes rolled back, clinging to his shoulders like you’ll fall apart if he stops.

“thought you were cocky,” he pants, slamming into you again, harder. “thought you could fuck me into the mattress? now look at you—fucking ruined.”

your orgasm hits like an explosion, pussy clenching around him so tight he grits his teeth and groans, fucking you through it with ragged, desperate thrusts, chasing his own release now. your body trembles in his arms, twitching, overstimulated, drooling and moaning as he fills you, hot cum spilling deep inside, his breath catching in your ear like a curse.

you go limp in his lap.

and cloud, flushed and panting, still pulsing inside you, just grins.

“…don’t ever try that shit again.”

[mewnbuns]

⸺ ⟢ contents. varka x reader. suggestive content and alcohol consumption. you’re both a little tipsy and varka’s showing you his scars in a booth in angel’s share.

“And this one?”

You ask with a captivating bat of your lashes, your fingers trace slowly across the jagged outline of the scar across Varka’s bare chest.

“Outskirts of Mondstadt, five years ago. Some treasure hoarders thought it would be wise to raid a camp in the middle of the night looking for something to pawn.” Varka laughs as he recalls the memory, but he finds it hard not to lean into your touch.

“Who would’ve thought the Grandmaster was a fan of camping.” You chuckle, and the sound makes Varka shift with one of his own.

“That was a rude awakening, but I let them get one good hit in before I started clean up.”

“Ever the noble knight.”

You joke, playfully as your finger continues their slow ministrations across Varka’s chest, leaning a little too heavily into his side as your earlier consumed wine makes you feel a little soft. You think it’s amusing, the way the Grandmaster always appeared to get himself into such situations, but you’re sure your position right now might fall into that category aswell.

After all, it’s not everyday that one would find themselves holed up in one of the private, upstairs booths of Angels Share with a shirtless, just as tipsy Varka pressing himself up against them.

You’re sure anyone else would find the idea of the Grandmaster of the Knights of Favonius being so easily persuaded by a pretty face and a few servings of wine to be quite shameful. Especially in public, the idea of it would be sure to send Master Jean into cardiac arrest but at the moment, with the feeling of Varka’s warm skin beneath your fingertip— you don’t think either of you are thinking much about the consequences at all.

And you’re not just any pretty face.

Varka’s always been quite fond of you. Has always caught your gaze at meetings or around town, you’ve exchanged a few letters back and forth during his time away for missions and he always seem to prefer discussing his findings on his return with you. Much to the distaste of a few others, but Varka’s never been one to shy away from letting his…. respect for your hard work to be known.

You do a lot for the Knights of Favonius. Which means you do a lot for Varka.

Maybe even a lot more than you realise.

So when you’d invited Varka out for drinks to celebrate his return to Mondstadt, to then spend the earlier part of the night admiring the unbuttoned top of his shirt with a glimmer of curiosity sparking in the irises of your eyes when you’d caught a glimpse of the many scars across his skin. Sure, he had perhaps been a little too eager to pull off his shirt completely when you’d asked “Can I see them?” in that convincing, saccharine tone that you always do.

Blame it on the wine.

But with the most recent, long mission in Nod Krai finally far behind him. Well, Varka thinks it’s only right that he allows himself to let off some steam the only way he knows how… right?

You press a little bit more of your weight into Varka’s side as your finger drags down a little lower, tracing the thick muscle of his peck until you watch the skin twitch beneath your touch. And then you cast him a glance, following it with another little bat of your lashes that has Varka having to take a big swig of wine to keep himself from melting.

“And this one?” You hum, touch stroking back and forth across another line in his skin.

He doesn’t need to pull his gaze away from yours to answer.

“From a wild beast out by Starfell Valley. I wrestled it with my bare hands, you know. I’m surprised you haven’t already heard the story, they called me a real hero, saved the whole village from being overrun and all I got as a souvenir was this little thing.” He says, voice loud and proud but close as he tilts his head down towards the gash. “It was no walk in the park, but it was no match for me.”

“That’s pretty cool, seems you’re quite the force to be reckoned with.” You giggle with another sway, and Varka steadies you with a hand around your waist, pulling you deeper into the booth until you’ve no choice but to flatten your palm against his abdomen to keep steady.

“You think so?” He hums, his voice low and strained. You only realise how close you both appear to be when it urges you to look up, his face just short of yours. “There’s a lot more than just that.”

“More?” You mimic him, but your words come out a little more lithe and dreamy than you intend them to. The heat in Varka’s gaze makes your mouth feel dry, but before you can give way to those thoughts his hand releases his drink in favour of taking hold of yours.

He drags it down a little lower while you watch, fingers tracing down his pecks to the broad, strong muscles of his abdomen and he hisses when you apply pressure to a particularly sensitive spot at his waist. His body jolts into your touch as you find a newer, pinker scar mid-way down, just to the side of his lower stomach.

You tease it with your fingers, and he has to muffle the groan it drags out of him with a low laugh.

“Heh, careful.” Varka hums, half-slurred but trying to play it off.

“Does it hurt?” Your head rolls onto his thick shoulder, and you bat your lashes up at him as your finger traces the outline. There’s a shift to his hips when you look at him, and maybe you’d pick up on why if you were only to look down.

Varka grins, shaking his head as he lowers his face to make sure you can hear him over the music. “Oh no. That’s not what I’m worried about.”

There’s a shift in the atmosphere after that, a hitch in your breath as your touch continues to move back and forth across Varka’s bare skin. The muscle contracts and twitches as your touch twirls itself a little lower, and you think there’s a glimmer of something in the Grandmaster’s gaze that makes you feel warm and delightfully giddy.

You could blame it on the wine, your tolerance barely scratching the surface of what he’s able to consume. But you’ve not had enough to cloud your judgement that much, and you’re still in full control when you find it in yourself to swing your thighs over the closest one of Varka’s to you, scrambling slightly until you’re almost perched on his lap with a subtle push closer.

And perhaps you’d be embarrassed at how forward you’re being if it weren’t for him helping you.

Your eyes leave his for a moment as you rest your palm flat against his lower stomach. And you’ve gotten close enough to the point you can feel his breath fan across your features, sweet with wine and just as tempting.

“Any more?” You ask, barely managing a whisper as your eyes drag back up to Varka’s.

If you weren’t so close you don’t think he’d be able to hear you given the lively background noise and the live music. But given your more than intimate little private setting, he doesn’t miss a single syllable as his arm hooks around your waist— making sure you’re kept close.

Varka’s response comes only when he leans in to brush his lips along the shell of your ear.

“Oh, I’ve got a lot more to show you… you might even find what i’ve got left to be more impressive.”

“Is that even possible?” You say, in equal parts disbelief and anticipation. Varka’s fingers stroke back and forth across the ticklish parts of your waist, and when you absentmindedly let your fingers drop to rest on the waistband of his pants, his hips shamelessly twitch up to meet it.

And suddenly there’s something scalding in the look he gives you when he pulls away, grinning.

“Well, that’s for you to decide.”

[dreamyy-eis]

eye catch!

nsfw | varka x fem!reader

varka is all hot breath, fervent blush, and skin damp from sweat. you're sitting in his lap, melting further into him, pressing flush to his body, taking his thick cock so deep. you soak him, bouncing on him slowly, letting him feel the warmth of your syrupy insides while you enjoy how his dick drags against your sweet spots. varka so desperately wants you to ride him faster, but no, you are eager to torture him more. 

your hot breath fans across his neck, you leave open-mouthed kisses, nipping his skin, sometimes even sinking your teeth into his flesh. varka throws his head back, giving you more space; he can't hold back sounds. your tongue goes down, tracing his jaw, his neck, deliberately all the way to his necklace. you leave a kiss near his necklace, playing with the wolf fang pendant. the very same necklace you found so seductive when it hangs on his chest when the top buttons of his shirt are undone. like a cat chasing a toy, you couldn't take your eyes off him when he was training, swinging his greatswords, and his pendant followed his moves. 

you move faster for a few moments, rolling your hips in a teasing rhythm, varka’s own hips jerking up instinctively, but you pause your movements and pull his necklace, like telling him to be a good boy and stay still, catching him off guard. he groaned and you kissed him on the mouth. it’s a deep kiss, all tongues, teeth, and saliva. varka’s hands roam your thighs, pulling you closer—and you think you can feel him in your womb—his fingers digging into your skin, leaving marks.

you pull his necklace again, playing with the wolf fang. your other hand scratches his pecs, and pinches his nipple. you’re staring at him, his disheveled look, his lips shiny with saliva, his darkened eyes with dilated pupils, kiss marks on his neck—and can’t help but clench around him. ah, you reached the breaking point before he did; your teasing became your own end. you start moving desperately, but you still play with his pendant, pulling with every rock of your hips.

and you’re not the only one who is enjoying it. varka’s breath becomes heavier, he shamelessly grins with every pull on his necklace as if it’s turning him on even more. he absolutely loves it.

[dreamyy-eis]

eye catch!

nsfw | varka x fem!reader

varka is all hot breath, fervent blush, and skin damp from sweat. you're sitting in his lap, melting further into him, pressing flush to his body, taking his thick cock so deep. you soak him, bouncing on him slowly, letting him feel the warmth of your syrupy insides while you enjoy how his dick drags against your sweet spots. varka so desperately wants you to ride him faster, but no, you are eager to torture him more. 

your hot breath fans across his neck, you leave open-mouthed kisses, nipping his skin, sometimes even sinking your teeth into his flesh. varka throws his head back, giving you more space; he can't hold back sounds. your tongue goes down, tracing his jaw, his neck, deliberately all the way to his necklace. you leave a kiss near his necklace, playing with the wolf fang pendant. the very same necklace you found so seductive when it hangs on his chest when the top buttons of his shirt are undone. like a cat chasing a toy, you couldn't take your eyes off him when he was training, swinging his greatswords, and his pendant followed his moves. 

you move faster for a few moments, rolling your hips in a teasing rhythm, varka’s own hips jerking up instinctively, but you pause your movements and pull his necklace, like telling him to be a good boy and stay still, catching him off guard. he groaned and you kissed him on the mouth. it’s a deep kiss, all tongues, teeth, and saliva. varka’s hands roam your thighs, pulling you closer—and you think you can feel him in your womb—his fingers digging into your skin, leaving marks.

you pull his necklace again, playing with the wolf fang. your other hand scratches his pecs, and pinches his nipple. you’re staring at him, his disheveled look, his lips shiny with saliva, his darkened eyes with dilated pupils, kiss marks on his neck—and can’t help but clench around him. ah, you reached the breaking point before he did; your teasing became your own end. you start moving desperately, but you still play with his pendant, pulling with every rock of your hips.

and you’re not the only one who is enjoying it. varka’s breath becomes heavier, he shamelessly grins with every pull on his necklace as if it’s turning him on even more. he absolutely loves it.

[mewnbuns]

⸺ ⟢ contents. varka x reader. suggestive content and alcohol consumption. you’re both a little tipsy and varka’s showing you his scars in a booth in angel’s share.

“And this one?”

You ask with a captivating bat of your lashes, your fingers trace slowly across the jagged outline of the scar across Varka’s bare chest.

“Outskirts of Mondstadt, five years ago. Some treasure hoarders thought it would be wise to raid a camp in the middle of the night looking for something to pawn.” Varka laughs as he recalls the memory, but he finds it hard not to lean into your touch.

“Who would’ve thought the Grandmaster was a fan of camping.” You chuckle, and the sound makes Varka shift with one of his own.

“That was a rude awakening, but I let them get one good hit in before I started clean up.”

“Ever the noble knight.”

You joke, playfully as your finger continues their slow ministrations across Varka’s chest, leaning a little too heavily into his side as your earlier consumed wine makes you feel a little soft. You think it’s amusing, the way the Grandmaster always appeared to get himself into such situations, but you’re sure your position right now might fall into that category aswell.

After all, it’s not everyday that one would find themselves holed up in one of the private, upstairs booths of Angels Share with a shirtless, just as tipsy Varka pressing himself up against them.

You’re sure anyone else would find the idea of the Grandmaster of the Knights of Favonius being so easily persuaded by a pretty face and a few servings of wine to be quite shameful. Especially in public, the idea of it would be sure to send Master Jean into cardiac arrest but at the moment, with the feeling of Varka’s warm skin beneath your fingertip— you don’t think either of you are thinking much about the consequences at all.

And you’re not just any pretty face.

Varka’s always been quite fond of you. Has always caught your gaze at meetings or around town, you’ve exchanged a few letters back and forth during his time away for missions and he always seem to prefer discussing his findings on his return with you. Much to the distaste of a few others, but Varka’s never been one to shy away from letting his…. respect for your hard work to be known.

You do a lot for the Knights of Favonius. Which means you do a lot for Varka.

Maybe even a lot more than you realise.

So when you’d invited Varka out for drinks to celebrate his return to Mondstadt, to then spend the earlier part of the night admiring the unbuttoned top of his shirt with a glimmer of curiosity sparking in the irises of your eyes when you’d caught a glimpse of the many scars across his skin. Sure, he had perhaps been a little too eager to pull off his shirt completely when you’d asked “Can I see them?” in that convincing, saccharine tone that you always do.

Blame it on the wine.

But with the most recent, long mission in Nod Krai finally far behind him. Well, Varka thinks it’s only right that he allows himself to let off some steam the only way he knows how… right?

You press a little bit more of your weight into Varka’s side as your finger drags down a little lower, tracing the thick muscle of his peck until you watch the skin twitch beneath your touch. And then you cast him a glance, following it with another little bat of your lashes that has Varka having to take a big swig of wine to keep himself from melting.

“And this one?” You hum, touch stroking back and forth across another line in his skin.

He doesn’t need to pull his gaze away from yours to answer.

“From a wild beast out by Starfell Valley. I wrestled it with my bare hands, you know. I’m surprised you haven’t already heard the story, they called me a real hero, saved the whole village from being overrun and all I got as a souvenir was this little thing.” He says, voice loud and proud but close as he tilts his head down towards the gash. “It was no walk in the park, but it was no match for me.”

“That’s pretty cool, seems you’re quite the force to be reckoned with.” You giggle with another sway, and Varka steadies you with a hand around your waist, pulling you deeper into the booth until you’ve no choice but to flatten your palm against his abdomen to keep steady.

“You think so?” He hums, his voice low and strained. You only realise how close you both appear to be when it urges you to look up, his face just short of yours. “There’s a lot more than just that.”

“More?” You mimic him, but your words come out a little more lithe and dreamy than you intend them to. The heat in Varka’s gaze makes your mouth feel dry, but before you can give way to those thoughts his hand releases his drink in favour of taking hold of yours.

He drags it down a little lower while you watch, fingers tracing down his pecks to the broad, strong muscles of his abdomen and he hisses when you apply pressure to a particularly sensitive spot at his waist. His body jolts into your touch as you find a newer, pinker scar mid-way down, just to the side of his lower stomach.

You tease it with your fingers, and he has to muffle the groan it drags out of him with a low laugh.

“Heh, careful.” Varka hums, half-slurred but trying to play it off.

“Does it hurt?” Your head rolls onto his thick shoulder, and you bat your lashes up at him as your finger traces the outline. There’s a shift to his hips when you look at him, and maybe you’d pick up on why if you were only to look down.

Varka grins, shaking his head as he lowers his face to make sure you can hear him over the music. “Oh no. That’s not what I’m worried about.”

There’s a shift in the atmosphere after that, a hitch in your breath as your touch continues to move back and forth across Varka’s bare skin. The muscle contracts and twitches as your touch twirls itself a little lower, and you think there’s a glimmer of something in the Grandmaster’s gaze that makes you feel warm and delightfully giddy.

You could blame it on the wine, your tolerance barely scratching the surface of what he’s able to consume. But you’ve not had enough to cloud your judgement that much, and you’re still in full control when you find it in yourself to swing your thighs over the closest one of Varka’s to you, scrambling slightly until you’re almost perched on his lap with a subtle push closer.

And perhaps you’d be embarrassed at how forward you’re being if it weren’t for him helping you.

Your eyes leave his for a moment as you rest your palm flat against his lower stomach. And you’ve gotten close enough to the point you can feel his breath fan across your features, sweet with wine and just as tempting.

“Any more?” You ask, barely managing a whisper as your eyes drag back up to Varka’s.

If you weren’t so close you don’t think he’d be able to hear you given the lively background noise and the live music. But given your more than intimate little private setting, he doesn’t miss a single syllable as his arm hooks around your waist— making sure you’re kept close.

Varka’s response comes only when he leans in to brush his lips along the shell of your ear.

“Oh, I’ve got a lot more to show you… you might even find what i’ve got left to be more impressive.”

“Is that even possible?” You say, in equal parts disbelief and anticipation. Varka’s fingers stroke back and forth across the ticklish parts of your waist, and when you absentmindedly let your fingers drop to rest on the waistband of his pants, his hips shamelessly twitch up to meet it.

And suddenly there’s something scalding in the look he gives you when he pulls away, grinning.

“Well, that’s for you to decide.”

[luvlybunnie]

varka eating you out on his office desk. (≧▽≦) .

your back is flat against his cold desk, papers knocked to the floor, scattered amongst themselves. varka has his face buried in your cunt, hands bruising your sides as he holds you flat against his face.

"a-ah, varka— please, please—" you whine, not sure what you're begging for. he growls into you, sucking roughly on your clit as his chin glistens and drips with your essence.

your warm body is melting against his desk, hands clasping over your mouth as you writhe and moan against his body. his hand curls beneath your ass, pulling away with a gruff laugh— "coverin' your mouth, ah? good idea," he chuckles, two fingers sinking into your sensitive cunt, the pads of his fingers pressing into your g-spot, "wouldn't want anyone hearin' and walkin' in us.." he says with a tiny wink.

you try to laugh, try to make light, but you can't— your legs shake around his hand, heels digging into his back when he licks messy circles around your clit, moaning against it. your gut is twisting, wrenching, swirling with your orgasm as it finally hits, your back arching off the desk— a book or two falling off with loud thuds. varka doesn't budge, if anything, he gets worse. fucking his fingers into your while sucking roughly on your swollen clit.

"thaaaaaaat's it, uh-huh, cum all over me, pup." he groans out, swallowing down all of your juices, riding out your orgasm. he pulls away with a sweet kiss to your swollen nub.

he scratches the back of his neck, "you were still kinda loud, but it's fine— i don't really care anymore.." he mumbles, taking a step forward as he unbuckles his pants.

you look at him with wide eyes, eyeing his cock before hearing him laugh again, "be a good girl and take this f'me, okay?" he rubs the base of his cock against your lips, white-knuckling the back of the desk as he leans close to your face, "my whole body wants a taste of your pussy, is that okay?"

[meowdei]

female reader ; established relationship ; varka and reader reunite ; morning afters (implied previous sexual activity — not explicitly written) ; banter ; mentions of alcohol (it’s varka lol) ; not proof read

There is a finger trailing along Varka’s nose. Delicate. Slow. It’s odd—fingers do not trace Varka’s nose when he is asleep. In fact, nothing touches him so gently when he is asleep in a tent all alone.

And yet, there is a finger trailing along Varka’s nose. And then there is a kiss along his jaw, and a weight against his ribs, and there is the sound of a voice that murmurs, “Good morning, my love. I’m glad you’re back.”

And Varka realizes he is no longer in a tent. No longer alone. No longer sleeping on foreign soil with only his dreams (and the occasional sip of dandelion wine if he’s lucky) to remind him of home.

“Well, good morning to me,” he mumbles. Sleep laces his voice—clings to it through that low rumble that makes you shiver against him. He smiles to himself, eyes still closed. “Good morning to me, indeed.”

“Good morning to us,” you correct. “It’s a great morning for me, too.”

“Because I’m here?” He cracks an eye open. Bright and ecstatic just like that lopsided grin he throws you.

“No,” you snort, “because there’s someone else around here who can make breakfast for once. I was getting very tired of doing things on my own.”

His lips curl into a pout.

You gently grip his jaw to turn his face and kiss it right off. And Varka is realizing that it’s a miracle he made it this long in a tent alone, sleeping at this place and that, far away from you. Far away from your warmth and your touch and those soft, gentle lips of yours.

“You wouldn’t have happened to wake me up just for breakfast, would you?” He mumbles, fingers trailing along your hips as he pulls you closer.

“Of course it is,” you tease, “in fact, now that you’re back, so is your mora. Why not just treat me to a meal at Good Hunter, then?”

“You didn’t miss me for any other reason?” He practically whines—as much as such a gruff and deep voice can whine, that is. His face tucks into the juncture of your neck, and you make room for him there. Like he belongs. (He does.)

Your fingers curl into the soft, blonde strands as you murmur, “No I think that’s all there was to it. An extra set of hands to help around the house, and some mora I can use.”

“Nothing else?” He presses.

“Nothing else,” you giggle.

He huffs. Presses soft, lingering kisses along your neck. Traces his lips and his tongue over the bruised, purpled marks along your neck from the night before. You shiver. He hums in satisfaction.

“Nothing else, huh?” He chuckles lowly. “Not this?”

“Nope. Didn’t miss that,” you shrug, “I can live without it.”

“Yeah?” He drawls, “don’t think that’s what it seemed like last night.”

“Last night you tricked me into bed with you,” you quip petulantly. “How unbecoming of a knight. You’ve forgotten how chivalry works.”

“Now, now, miss,” he pulls away to give you a dramatic, scandalized look, “if my memory serves me right, I remember a very troublesome pair of hands wanderin’ last night at Angel’s Share.”

He gives you a look. You only grin in response.

You’ve missed Varka. You’ve waited year after year with nothing but letters to hear from him. You’ve slept night after night alone. And it was worth it, of course—Varka is always worth it. You know it as soon as those eyes crack open at Windrise and his irises meet yours.

You’d do it all over again. You know that as easily as the wind blows North.

And…well, when he is so close to you, sitting right there in the seat beside you as he celebrates his return over a glass of wine, you can’t help but let your hand linger along his thigh under the booth. Crawl along the inner portion and familiarize yourself with the sheer broadness of his…everything. He is broad and beautiful and he comes back to you even larger than you remember him.

Years apart has faded your memory to vague images of how large his hands are compared to yours, and how tall his frame is next to you.

So you feel him. A little riskier than you’d care to admit, and perhaps a little too teasing in nature given the way he stiffens with a hitch in his breath, but you’ve missed Varka. And dandelion wine will always be there after he’s had his way with you.

“Troublesome?” You gasp, “I was merely remembering how you felt after so long. It’s been so long since I’ve last held you, you know.”

He softens at that. His eyes glaze with something a little more melancholy. Something a little more bitter despite the joy that radiates so easily off of him.

“Sorry I made you wait so long,” he mumbles. “You didn’t have to.”

“Don’t say silly things, Varka,” you sigh gently, cradling his cheeks. He closes his eyes as you press a small kiss to the tip of his nose. “I’d have waited longer. You know that.”

“I’m not sure I’d want that,” he breathes out as you press gentle kisses along his cheeks, finding the corner of his lips. “Waiting longer. Don’t know how I’d make it through that.”

“I think it’s best we don’t dwell on things,” you trace the scar on his cheek with a thumb. He relaxes slightly at the touch. “You’re home now, aren’t you?”

“Suppose I am,” he cracks a grin. “Gettin’ woken up against my will, having my mora drained—certainly back to the way things were before I left.”

You roll your eyes as he chuckles. And when he flops over and presses his weight onto you, you almost feel like the years haven’t flown by at all. You’re still young. Still in love. Still just the same you who found home in the arms of a charmingly ambitious boy. And he is still home, right here where he is yours.

“I want breakfast,” you demand with a pleading pout.

He grins. Things are back to normal—Varka is home. “Whatever milady wants,” he says through a low chuckle.

You beam. Everything is as you know it—Varka is here. “Thank you, my darling knight. What a honorable man you are.”

[wrioism]

Two Minutes. ꕤ

Featuring - Varka

ꕤ You and Varka get a little too drunk and take it a little too far.

ꕤ Warnings: nsfw, f!reader, dry humping, piv, drunk sex, couple uses of "sir," no protection

Word count: about 3k

The celebration seemed to drag on for hours. The drinks just kept coming, and everyone was so thrilled that they all downed every drop eagerly. You can’t remember how many times you heard, “This rounds on me!” And for every full glass that was slid your way, you felt it was only polite to indulge in one more. It’s a special occasion, after all.

By the time the excitement wears down, your head feels all fuzzy, and you find yourself stumbling outside the pub, trying to remember which way your house is. You recall it being pretty close to the bar, but all the roads either blend together or split into two. Are you sure you’re in the right nation?

Something grabs your arm.

A soft murmur of your name, followed by, “You okay?”

You turn to the voice, swallowing hard. “Grand master.” You exhale. “Yes—Yes, sir. I’m just…” You trail off, a weird feeling brewing in your stomach. “Just…”

“I saw you getting a little carried away,” Varka manages a laugh, despite the fact he also pushed the limits of his impressive tolerance enough to feel like he’s balancing on one foot. “Here, let me walk you home.”

You peer up at him, contemplating. His blonde hair is a mess, sticking up in all different directions, and his face is flushed from the alcohol. His heavy jacket seems to have been discarded somewhere inside the pub, like he was in a rush to get out.

Did he follow you?

You blink. He probably just wanted to make sure you were okay. I mean, ever since you first arrived in Mondstadt, the Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius was one of the first to offer you a warm welcome. He had just returned from his expedition in Nod Krai, and after all the time he spent away, you coined it as him being excited to introduce someone new to a place he loved so dearly. His home, which was slowly becoming yours, as well.

He would always rush you to join him for a drink, train with him, anything that kept you close.

It would be a lie to say you didn’t develop quite the liking for him. Everything about him was magnetic to the most literal definition of the word. He drew people in as a natural consequence of being himself, people like you especially.

Who would you be to say no?

“Alright,” you agree. “Do you remember—”

“Yeah, I know where your place is. Come on, then.”

He comes up beside you, placing his hand on your lower back to guide you away from the pub, the celebration inside still roaring with life. The touch of his rough fingertips against the soft skin your shirt exposes spreads a warmth all the way from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, but you feel it most prominently in your lower stomach.

“Thank you.” You breathe out, grabbing the side of his shirt to help yourself balance.

He chuckles lowly. “No need to thank me. Protecting you is my job.”

You look up at him. “Your job, huh?”

“I…” He laughs again. “As Grand Master, I mean. It’s my job to protect everyone in Mondstadt.”

You nod, and the motion makes you feel like there’s an angry ocean storming in your skull. You can't recall the last time you drank so much. “Right.”

He readjusts his hand, his thumb slipping just below the hem of your shirt. You bite your lip, leaning against him for support as a hazy feeling weakens your limbs. You urge to press your thighs together, just the presence of him in combination with your alcohol-induced state making the softest of touches feel euphoric.

His own next breath is noticeably more nervous than the ones before, and he has to move his hand to the sensitive nerves on your waist to keep you steady. 

“Varka…” You push against him again.

He doesn’t say anything.

Soon enough he’s guiding you up the steps of your porch, and you’re unlocking the front door with unsteady hands while he leans against the railing. You glance at him. His chest rises and falls quickly, and he keeps his eyes low like he’s struggling to look at you. Something is on his mind.

“Those last few drinks setting in?” You croak, getting the door open and pushing it forward, the cold air from inside the house hitting your skin.

“Uh—” His eyes snap to yours. “Must be.”

“Come inside for a minute,” you offer, and just hearing the invite spill from your own lips feeds into the arousal already settling in your body from his touch. “Have some water before you walk back. It'll help.”

He considers it, biting his lip. “I appreciate it, but I shouldn’t.” He shakes his head. “Someone else might need a hand…”

“It’ll be fine for a minute,” you push, and Varka’s light blue eyes, half-lidded from intoxication and something else, stay locked on you. “I insist.”

He sighs, nodding slowly in surrender. “Alright. Just for a moment.”

You’re quick to step inside your small but cozy home, Varka following closely, his footsteps heavy against the floorboards. He lets the door fall closed behind him. The only light comes from a dim lamp on the kitchen counter, and you don’t bother with flicking any others on as you hurry over and grab a bottle from your fridge. Your head pounds, begging for a moment of rest, but the rest of your body begs for something else much louder.

Varka meets you in the barely spacious room. When he gets close enough, you can feel his warmth spreading through the chill of the room. 

“Here.” You hand him the water.

Your wonky world manages to center as you watch his large hand unscrew the cap. You roll your bottom lip into your mouth subconsciously, studying the way his biceps flex as he lifts his arm, the way he holds the rim of the bottle just above his mouth, the way his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows…

Varka doesn’t miss the way you throw one leg over the other and clench your thighs, or the way your eyebrows pinch together when you do.

He certainly doesn’t miss the way your eyes stay on him the whole time.

He steps towards you, and just when you think his chest is going to press against yours, he stops. He reaches past you, putting the bottle on the wide kitchen counter you lean against.

“Thank you.”

Your eyes wander as you mumble something that can barely be discerned as a you’re welcome. His shirt is tight around his rigid body, but it’s nothing compared to the way his pants contain a noticeable bulge.

You whisper his name, and it comes out sounding like a plea.

Varka clears his throat. “I should go now.”

You say his name again, your hands reaching out to clutch the sides of his shirt.

This time it’s him saying your name, but instead of a plea, it’s a warning.

You ignore it.

You tug him closer, and only his sheer strength and finely honed self control stops his body from pressing against yours. You look up at him, eyes glossed over with need, hands sliding to his hips.

“I know you followed me out of the pub.” You rasp, one hand trailing up his chest. Varka’s breath hitches, and he braces a palm against the counter right beside your body. 

“I told you,” he whispers, “I saw that you drank too much. I needed to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m not the only one who drank too much, Varka.” Your hand continues its exploration, tangling up in his hair and tugging, forcing him to keep looking at you. Even in your drunken state, he looks beautiful. “You’ve barely been staying upright yourself. You think I haven't noticed?"

His jaw clenches.

“Stay,” you beg, pulling his head down further. “Just for a little longer.”

He swallows. “You’re—”

You press your mouth to his, effectively cutting him off. Both your hands are in his hair now, holding him close. He stills, everything from his movement to his breathing, and right when you think it might be better to pull away and let him leave, his hand is on your hip.

He kisses you back hungrily. His large form pins you to the counter, and when you struggle to grind your needy core against his bulge, he hoists you onto the surface. You lock your legs around his waist, your skirt hiking up, moaning in his mouth at the first real feeling of pleasure when the tent in his slacks rubs against your clit through the thin fabric of your underwear.

“Varka,” you whine. 

He swallows the sound, one of his palms cupping your face as he eagerly presses his tongue past your lips.

“Two minutes,” he mumbles.

You nod in agreement. Two minutes of this, and then he goes back to the pub.

You slide your tongue over his, tasting the regular booze on his breath. It’s addictive, and you yearn to get even more drunk than you already are on nothing but him. 

Varka’s hand closes around your hip to help you along, rolling your hips against his. Your desperate sounds are drowned out by each other’s lips, nothing but the lewd noises of your mouths and rustling fabric filling the otherwise dead silent house.

You throw your head back to breathe, which Varka takes as an invitation to start kissing and sucking at your neck. You tug at his nape, rocking your hips, feeling the way your arousal is soaking through your underwear. You wonder if he can feel how wet you are for him, if there’s a damp spot forming on the front of his pants from you desperately dry humping his clothed cock.

The alcohol makes every small bit of stimulation feel more intense, but your body still begs for something more.

“I need more,” you whine. “Just a little more… A few more minutes, Varka, please.”

He growls against the warm skin of your neck. “Two more minutes.”

His hand dips between your bodies, hooking two fingers in the hem of your underwear and pulling them down your thighs, just enough to expose you under your skirt. You moan in anticipation, bracing one hand on the cold counter top behind you and keeping the other slung over his shoulders.

The pads of his fingers find your clit, and the sound that emerges from deep in your chest is one of utter relief. He starts to draw slow circles, pulling his head out of the crook of your neck to watch the pretty faces his movements elicit. 

“Is this good?” He asks hoarsely, his forehead pressing against yours as he begins to rub your clit faster.

“Yes, oh Gods, Varka!” You close your fist in his hair, head tilting back. “Ah… Please don’t stop.”

He suddenly pulls away. Right when you think he’s honouring his word and your two minutes are up, his digits are replaced with his thumb, and he’s instead nudging your fluttering hole with the pads of his fingers.

“Oh. Yes, Varka…”

He grunts, capturing your lips again as he sinks two fingers inside of your cunt.

You whimper against his mouth, rolling your hips onto his hand greedily. He fills you to the second knuckle, still circling your clit with his thumb. The overload of sensations makes you feel like you’re ascending to a different realm. The pleasure coiling in your lower stomach, the smell of him, the taste, everything.

He drags his fingers across all the right places inside of you, curling them against spots that make you see stars.

Varka groans at the way you clench around his fingers, flicking his wrist with more vigour. “Taking good care of you, am I?”

The pleasure binds tighter, your toes curling, knees squeezing his hips. “Yes, yes, sir.”

“Oh—Fuck.” He steadies your hips, forcing you to stay still as he tips you over the edge. You cry out, back arching and eyes squeezing shut as stars appear in the void. You chant his name like a prayer, and he works you through the orgasm eagerly.

His hand retreats from between your legs once you start to come down.

You whine, sitting up properly and grabbing at his shirt. Your mind couldn't be more fogged thanks to the alcohol and recent orgasm, but you still hold him tightly. “No, don’t go.”

His sighs your name, shaking his head like he already knows he’s lost whatever game you’re playing with him.

“I’m supposed to—”

You reach down to palm his bulge, and he groans out through gritted teeth.

“Two more minutes,” you say, kicking your panties the rest of the way off. “I want to feel you, Varka.”

His eyes meet yours, and the look he’s giving you is the kind of dangerous that has you dripping on the counter below you.

“I’m not asking you to fuck me,” You plead, starting to unbuckle his belt with haste. “Just want to feel you for a second.”

He warns you by saying your name firmly, the authoritative tone making you feel weak.

“Just a little, Varka. Just for a second.”

He doesn’t make any moves to stop you when you pull his belt out of the loops and toss it aside. You unbutton and unzip his slacks, pulling them and his boxers down just enough to let his cock spring out.

The size of him is immediately intimidating, but you ignore it and take the base of him in your palm.

Varka grips the counter with both hands, caging you in, fists turning white.

“Just a little, okay?” You meet his eyes.

His gaze flickers between your face and his cock in your hand.

“Just a little,” he agrees, voice thick with arousal. He pulls your hand off of him, tugging you to the very edge of the counter by your thighs and lining himself up with your cunt.

You’re both panting, watching closely as he nudges your folds with the thick head of his cock. You bite into your lip to conceal a whimper.

You gasp together when his tip pushes inside you. Even just this much causes a small ache to start sprouting deep in your stomach, but even that slight pain is the most pleasant thing you’ve ever felt.

“Varka,” you cry, putting your hands on his shoulders. 

He’s intently staring at where he’s barely pressed inside of you, his cock twitching in anticipation and his swollen lips slightly parted in pleasure.

You lift your hips, trying to urge him deeper, but his hand snaps to your hip before you get the chance.

“A bit more,” you murmur.

Varka inhales sharply. “I can’t—”

“Just a bit, let me feel you.”

He grunts, staying still for a beat before finally pressing another inch of his cock inside of you.

Maybe it’s the way you moan his name, or how your pussy clenches around him, tirelessly trying to tug him in deeper, but Varka snaps.

“I can’t.” He breathes out, bracing both his hands on your hips. “I can’t. I need—”

“It’s okay,” You assure him swiftly, and you drop back to hold yourself up on your forearms. “Take it, Varka. Take—”

He bottoms out in one quick thrust.

You scream, your back hitting the counter as the wonderful swirl of pleasure and pain makes your body entirely succumb to him.

“I’m sorry,” he says, but it barely sounds apologetic as he starts to thrust in and out of you at a quick pace. 

All you can do it take it, arching your back to accommodate him as he fucks you with everything he has. His hips slam against yours with enough force to bruise, and you just sputter out incomprehensible pleas for more. You squeeze and gush around him, making him groan your name.

He bottoms out with each thrust, making sure you feel every single inch of him dragging against your inner walls. He pulls the most beautiful of noises from your chest, each one fuelling him to pound into you with even more force.

“Good girl—So good.” He huffs, voice hoarse, but you barely hear him as you make the shift from alcohol drunk to cock drunk as he drives into you over and over again. He’s filling you up so good, pinning your hips to the counter to keep you in place as he gives you exactly what you were begging for.

Varka grunts, retracting one of his hands to start rubbing your clit as he keeps fucking in and out of you with brutal force.

“Varka!” You squeal, trying to snap your legs shut, but his body planted between your thighs keeps you wide open for him.

He laughs lowly, trailing off into a raspy moan. “Now you want to run?”

“No, no, don’t stop!” You arch your neck, one of your hands flying down to rest on his lower stomach, pushing even though you have no real desire to keep him out. “Varka, I’m so close…”

“Go on,” he encourages, hitting the perfect spot inside of you that makes you slur his name. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

At his command, you cry out and come undone around his cock. He keeps pumping inside of you for a few more strokes before pulling out with a groan, jerking himself off until he spills onto the front of your shirt.

You breathe heavily, going limp against your kitchen counter. Varka tenderly reaches under the hem of your shirt, carefully helping you strip it while he shushes your exhausted, hazy whines. If you were tired leaving the bar, there aren’t words for how spent you feel now.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, guilt coating his voice like he’s coming out of whatever state he entered when he fucked you. “Fuck—”

“No, no.” You whisper, sitting up. You cup his face with two hands, fighting through your exhaustion to kiss him, and this time, he returns it gently, his arms fully encircling your naked body. You pull back just enough to see his face. “Will you stay?”

He grins, his nose brushing against yours. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”

ꕤ Authors note: i had so much fun writing varka the other night so i had to give him his own moment lol. anyway i really want to start writing more because i feel like im never more productive in my day-to-day life than when im writing frequently so id love to hear requests from people if they have any :p obviously i wont write things if they make me uncomfortable or don't really appeal to me but trust im not that picky HAHA thats a lie. tbh ill probably only write for wriothesley, varka, and maybe tartaglia. anyway hope you guys loved :)

[wrioism]

Two Minutes. ꕤ

Featuring - Varka

ꕤ You and Varka get a little too drunk and take it a little too far.

ꕤ Warnings: nsfw, f!reader, dry humping, piv, drunk sex, couple uses of "sir," no protection

Word count: about 3k

The celebration seemed to drag on for hours. The drinks just kept coming, and everyone was so thrilled that they all downed every drop eagerly. You can’t remember how many times you heard, “This rounds on me!” And for every full glass that was slid your way, you felt it was only polite to indulge in one more. It’s a special occasion, after all.

By the time the excitement wears down, your head feels all fuzzy, and you find yourself stumbling outside the pub, trying to remember which way your house is. You recall it being pretty close to the bar, but all the roads either blend together or split into two. Are you sure you’re in the right nation?

Something grabs your arm.

A soft murmur of your name, followed by, “You okay?”

You turn to the voice, swallowing hard. “Grand master.” You exhale. “Yes—Yes, sir. I’m just…” You trail off, a weird feeling brewing in your stomach. “Just…”

“I saw you getting a little carried away,” Varka manages a laugh, despite the fact he also pushed the limits of his impressive tolerance enough to feel like he’s balancing on one foot. “Here, let me walk you home.”

You peer up at him, contemplating. His blonde hair is a mess, sticking up in all different directions, and his face is flushed from the alcohol. His heavy jacket seems to have been discarded somewhere inside the pub, like he was in a rush to get out.

Did he follow you?

You blink. He probably just wanted to make sure you were okay. I mean, ever since you first arrived in Mondstadt, the Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius was one of the first to offer you a warm welcome. He had just returned from his expedition in Nod Krai, and after all the time he spent away, you coined it as him being excited to introduce someone new to a place he loved so dearly. His home, which was slowly becoming yours, as well.

He would always rush you to join him for a drink, train with him, anything that kept you close.

It would be a lie to say you didn’t develop quite the liking for him. Everything about him was magnetic to the most literal definition of the word. He drew people in as a natural consequence of being himself, people like you especially.

Who would you be to say no?

“Alright,” you agree. “Do you remember—”

“Yeah, I know where your place is. Come on, then.”

He comes up beside you, placing his hand on your lower back to guide you away from the pub, the celebration inside still roaring with life. The touch of his rough fingertips against the soft skin your shirt exposes spreads a warmth all the way from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, but you feel it most prominently in your lower stomach.

“Thank you.” You breathe out, grabbing the side of his shirt to help yourself balance.

He chuckles lowly. “No need to thank me. Protecting you is my job.”

You look up at him. “Your job, huh?”

“I…” He laughs again. “As Grand Master, I mean. It’s my job to protect everyone in Mondstadt.”

You nod, and the motion makes you feel like there’s an angry ocean storming in your skull. You can't recall the last time you drank so much. “Right.”

He readjusts his hand, his thumb slipping just below the hem of your shirt. You bite your lip, leaning against him for support as a hazy feeling weakens your limbs. You urge to press your thighs together, just the presence of him in combination with your alcohol-induced state making the softest of touches feel euphoric.

His own next breath is noticeably more nervous than the ones before, and he has to move his hand to the sensitive nerves on your waist to keep you steady. 

“Varka…” You push against him again.

He doesn’t say anything.

Soon enough he’s guiding you up the steps of your porch, and you’re unlocking the front door with unsteady hands while he leans against the railing. You glance at him. His chest rises and falls quickly, and he keeps his eyes low like he’s struggling to look at you. Something is on his mind.

“Those last few drinks setting in?” You croak, getting the door open and pushing it forward, the cold air from inside the house hitting your skin.

“Uh—” His eyes snap to yours. “Must be.”

“Come inside for a minute,” you offer, and just hearing the invite spill from your own lips feeds into the arousal already settling in your body from his touch. “Have some water before you walk back. It'll help.”

He considers it, biting his lip. “I appreciate it, but I shouldn’t.” He shakes his head. “Someone else might need a hand…”

“It’ll be fine for a minute,” you push, and Varka’s light blue eyes, half-lidded from intoxication and something else, stay locked on you. “I insist.”

He sighs, nodding slowly in surrender. “Alright. Just for a moment.”

You’re quick to step inside your small but cozy home, Varka following closely, his footsteps heavy against the floorboards. He lets the door fall closed behind him. The only light comes from a dim lamp on the kitchen counter, and you don’t bother with flicking any others on as you hurry over and grab a bottle from your fridge. Your head pounds, begging for a moment of rest, but the rest of your body begs for something else much louder.

Varka meets you in the barely spacious room. When he gets close enough, you can feel his warmth spreading through the chill of the room. 

“Here.” You hand him the water.

Your wonky world manages to center as you watch his large hand unscrew the cap. You roll your bottom lip into your mouth subconsciously, studying the way his biceps flex as he lifts his arm, the way he holds the rim of the bottle just above his mouth, the way his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows…

Varka doesn’t miss the way you throw one leg over the other and clench your thighs, or the way your eyebrows pinch together when you do.

He certainly doesn’t miss the way your eyes stay on him the whole time.

He steps towards you, and just when you think his chest is going to press against yours, he stops. He reaches past you, putting the bottle on the wide kitchen counter you lean against.

“Thank you.”

Your eyes wander as you mumble something that can barely be discerned as a you’re welcome. His shirt is tight around his rigid body, but it’s nothing compared to the way his pants contain a noticeable bulge.

You whisper his name, and it comes out sounding like a plea.

Varka clears his throat. “I should go now.”

You say his name again, your hands reaching out to clutch the sides of his shirt.

This time it’s him saying your name, but instead of a plea, it’s a warning.

You ignore it.

You tug him closer, and only his sheer strength and finely honed self control stops his body from pressing against yours. You look up at him, eyes glossed over with need, hands sliding to his hips.

“I know you followed me out of the pub.” You rasp, one hand trailing up his chest. Varka’s breath hitches, and he braces a palm against the counter right beside your body. 

“I told you,” he whispers, “I saw that you drank too much. I needed to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m not the only one who drank too much, Varka.” Your hand continues its exploration, tangling up in his hair and tugging, forcing him to keep looking at you. Even in your drunken state, he looks beautiful. “You’ve barely been staying upright yourself. You think I haven't noticed?"

His jaw clenches.

“Stay,” you beg, pulling his head down further. “Just for a little longer.”

He swallows. “You’re—”

You press your mouth to his, effectively cutting him off. Both your hands are in his hair now, holding him close. He stills, everything from his movement to his breathing, and right when you think it might be better to pull away and let him leave, his hand is on your hip.

He kisses you back hungrily. His large form pins you to the counter, and when you struggle to grind your needy core against his bulge, he hoists you onto the surface. You lock your legs around his waist, your skirt hiking up, moaning in his mouth at the first real feeling of pleasure when the tent in his slacks rubs against your clit through the thin fabric of your underwear.

“Varka,” you whine. 

He swallows the sound, one of his palms cupping your face as he eagerly presses his tongue past your lips.

“Two minutes,” he mumbles.

You nod in agreement. Two minutes of this, and then he goes back to the pub.

You slide your tongue over his, tasting the regular booze on his breath. It’s addictive, and you yearn to get even more drunk than you already are on nothing but him. 

Varka’s hand closes around your hip to help you along, rolling your hips against his. Your desperate sounds are drowned out by each other’s lips, nothing but the lewd noises of your mouths and rustling fabric filling the otherwise dead silent house.

You throw your head back to breathe, which Varka takes as an invitation to start kissing and sucking at your neck. You tug at his nape, rocking your hips, feeling the way your arousal is soaking through your underwear. You wonder if he can feel how wet you are for him, if there’s a damp spot forming on the front of his pants from you desperately dry humping his clothed cock.

The alcohol makes every small bit of stimulation feel more intense, but your body still begs for something more.

“I need more,” you whine. “Just a little more… A few more minutes, Varka, please.”

He growls against the warm skin of your neck. “Two more minutes.”

His hand dips between your bodies, hooking two fingers in the hem of your underwear and pulling them down your thighs, just enough to expose you under your skirt. You moan in anticipation, bracing one hand on the cold counter top behind you and keeping the other slung over his shoulders.

The pads of his fingers find your clit, and the sound that emerges from deep in your chest is one of utter relief. He starts to draw slow circles, pulling his head out of the crook of your neck to watch the pretty faces his movements elicit. 

“Is this good?” He asks hoarsely, his forehead pressing against yours as he begins to rub your clit faster.

“Yes, oh Gods, Varka!” You close your fist in his hair, head tilting back. “Ah… Please don’t stop.”

He suddenly pulls away. Right when you think he’s honouring his word and your two minutes are up, his digits are replaced with his thumb, and he’s instead nudging your fluttering hole with the pads of his fingers.

“Oh. Yes, Varka…”

He grunts, capturing your lips again as he sinks two fingers inside of your cunt.

You whimper against his mouth, rolling your hips onto his hand greedily. He fills you to the second knuckle, still circling your clit with his thumb. The overload of sensations makes you feel like you’re ascending to a different realm. The pleasure coiling in your lower stomach, the smell of him, the taste, everything.

He drags his fingers across all the right places inside of you, curling them against spots that make you see stars.

Varka groans at the way you clench around his fingers, flicking his wrist with more vigour. “Taking good care of you, am I?”

The pleasure binds tighter, your toes curling, knees squeezing his hips. “Yes, yes, sir.”

“Oh—Fuck.” He steadies your hips, forcing you to stay still as he tips you over the edge. You cry out, back arching and eyes squeezing shut as stars appear in the void. You chant his name like a prayer, and he works you through the orgasm eagerly.

His hand retreats from between your legs once you start to come down.

You whine, sitting up properly and grabbing at his shirt. Your mind couldn't be more fogged thanks to the alcohol and recent orgasm, but you still hold him tightly. “No, don’t go.”

His sighs your name, shaking his head like he already knows he’s lost whatever game you’re playing with him.

“I’m supposed to—”

You reach down to palm his bulge, and he groans out through gritted teeth.

“Two more minutes,” you say, kicking your panties the rest of the way off. “I want to feel you, Varka.”

His eyes meet yours, and the look he’s giving you is the kind of dangerous that has you dripping on the counter below you.

“I’m not asking you to fuck me,” You plead, starting to unbuckle his belt with haste. “Just want to feel you for a second.”

He warns you by saying your name firmly, the authoritative tone making you feel weak.

“Just a little, Varka. Just for a second.”

He doesn’t make any moves to stop you when you pull his belt out of the loops and toss it aside. You unbutton and unzip his slacks, pulling them and his boxers down just enough to let his cock spring out.

The size of him is immediately intimidating, but you ignore it and take the base of him in your palm.

Varka grips the counter with both hands, caging you in, fists turning white.

“Just a little, okay?” You meet his eyes.

His gaze flickers between your face and his cock in your hand.

“Just a little,” he agrees, voice thick with arousal. He pulls your hand off of him, tugging you to the very edge of the counter by your thighs and lining himself up with your cunt.

You’re both panting, watching closely as he nudges your folds with the thick head of his cock. You bite into your lip to conceal a whimper.

You gasp together when his tip pushes inside you. Even just this much causes a small ache to start sprouting deep in your stomach, but even that slight pain is the most pleasant thing you’ve ever felt.

“Varka,” you cry, putting your hands on his shoulders. 

He’s intently staring at where he’s barely pressed inside of you, his cock twitching in anticipation and his swollen lips slightly parted in pleasure.

You lift your hips, trying to urge him deeper, but his hand snaps to your hip before you get the chance.

“A bit more,” you murmur.

Varka inhales sharply. “I can’t—”

“Just a bit, let me feel you.”

He grunts, staying still for a beat before finally pressing another inch of his cock inside of you.

Maybe it’s the way you moan his name, or how your pussy clenches around him, tirelessly trying to tug him in deeper, but Varka snaps.

“I can’t.” He breathes out, bracing both his hands on your hips. “I can’t. I need—”

“It’s okay,” You assure him swiftly, and you drop back to hold yourself up on your forearms. “Take it, Varka. Take—”

He bottoms out in one quick thrust.

You scream, your back hitting the counter as the wonderful swirl of pleasure and pain makes your body entirely succumb to him.

“I’m sorry,” he says, but it barely sounds apologetic as he starts to thrust in and out of you at a quick pace. 

All you can do it take it, arching your back to accommodate him as he fucks you with everything he has. His hips slam against yours with enough force to bruise, and you just sputter out incomprehensible pleas for more. You squeeze and gush around him, making him groan your name.

He bottoms out with each thrust, making sure you feel every single inch of him dragging against your inner walls. He pulls the most beautiful of noises from your chest, each one fuelling him to pound into you with even more force.

“Good girl—So good.” He huffs, voice hoarse, but you barely hear him as you make the shift from alcohol drunk to cock drunk as he drives into you over and over again. He’s filling you up so good, pinning your hips to the counter to keep you in place as he gives you exactly what you were begging for.

Varka grunts, retracting one of his hands to start rubbing your clit as he keeps fucking in and out of you with brutal force.

“Varka!” You squeal, trying to snap your legs shut, but his body planted between your thighs keeps you wide open for him.

He laughs lowly, trailing off into a raspy moan. “Now you want to run?”

“No, no, don’t stop!” You arch your neck, one of your hands flying down to rest on his lower stomach, pushing even though you have no real desire to keep him out. “Varka, I’m so close…”

“Go on,” he encourages, hitting the perfect spot inside of you that makes you slur his name. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

At his command, you cry out and come undone around his cock. He keeps pumping inside of you for a few more strokes before pulling out with a groan, jerking himself off until he spills onto the front of your shirt.

You breathe heavily, going limp against your kitchen counter. Varka tenderly reaches under the hem of your shirt, carefully helping you strip it while he shushes your exhausted, hazy whines. If you were tired leaving the bar, there aren’t words for how spent you feel now.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, guilt coating his voice like he’s coming out of whatever state he entered when he fucked you. “Fuck—”

“No, no.” You whisper, sitting up. You cup his face with two hands, fighting through your exhaustion to kiss him, and this time, he returns it gently, his arms fully encircling your naked body. You pull back just enough to see his face. “Will you stay?”

He grins, his nose brushing against yours. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”

ꕤ Authors note: i had so much fun writing varka the other night so i had to give him his own moment lol. anyway i really want to start writing more because i feel like im never more productive in my day-to-day life than when im writing frequently so id love to hear requests from people if they have any :p obviously i wont write things if they make me uncomfortable or don't really appeal to me but trust im not that picky HAHA thats a lie. tbh ill probably only write for wriothesley, varka, and maybe tartaglia. anyway hope you guys loved :)

[wrioism]

Two Minutes. ꕤ

Featuring - Varka

ꕤ You and Varka get a little too drunk and take it a little too far.

ꕤ Warnings: nsfw, f!reader, dry humping, piv, drunk sex, couple uses of "sir," no protection

Word count: about 3k

The celebration seemed to drag on for hours. The drinks just kept coming, and everyone was so thrilled that they all downed every drop eagerly. You can’t remember how many times you heard, “This rounds on me!” And for every full glass that was slid your way, you felt it was only polite to indulge in one more. It’s a special occasion, after all.

By the time the excitement wears down, your head feels all fuzzy, and you find yourself stumbling outside the pub, trying to remember which way your house is. You recall it being pretty close to the bar, but all the roads either blend together or split into two. Are you sure you’re in the right nation?

Something grabs your arm.

A soft murmur of your name, followed by, “You okay?”

You turn to the voice, swallowing hard. “Grand master.” You exhale. “Yes—Yes, sir. I’m just…” You trail off, a weird feeling brewing in your stomach. “Just…”

“I saw you getting a little carried away,” Varka manages a laugh, despite the fact he also pushed the limits of his impressive tolerance enough to feel like he’s balancing on one foot. “Here, let me walk you home.”

You peer up at him, contemplating. His blonde hair is a mess, sticking up in all different directions, and his face is flushed from the alcohol. His heavy jacket seems to have been discarded somewhere inside the pub, like he was in a rush to get out.

Did he follow you?

You blink. He probably just wanted to make sure you were okay. I mean, ever since you first arrived in Mondstadt, the Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius was one of the first to offer you a warm welcome. He had just returned from his expedition in Nod Krai, and after all the time he spent away, you coined it as him being excited to introduce someone new to a place he loved so dearly. His home, which was slowly becoming yours, as well.

He would always rush you to join him for a drink, train with him, anything that kept you close.

It would be a lie to say you didn’t develop quite the liking for him. Everything about him was magnetic to the most literal definition of the word. He drew people in as a natural consequence of being himself, people like you especially.

Who would you be to say no?

“Alright,” you agree. “Do you remember—”

“Yeah, I know where your place is. Come on, then.”

He comes up beside you, placing his hand on your lower back to guide you away from the pub, the celebration inside still roaring with life. The touch of his rough fingertips against the soft skin your shirt exposes spreads a warmth all the way from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, but you feel it most prominently in your lower stomach.

“Thank you.” You breathe out, grabbing the side of his shirt to help yourself balance.

He chuckles lowly. “No need to thank me. Protecting you is my job.”

You look up at him. “Your job, huh?”

“I…” He laughs again. “As Grand Master, I mean. It’s my job to protect everyone in Mondstadt.”

You nod, and the motion makes you feel like there’s an angry ocean storming in your skull. You can't recall the last time you drank so much. “Right.”

He readjusts his hand, his thumb slipping just below the hem of your shirt. You bite your lip, leaning against him for support as a hazy feeling weakens your limbs. You urge to press your thighs together, just the presence of him in combination with your alcohol-induced state making the softest of touches feel euphoric.

His own next breath is noticeably more nervous than the ones before, and he has to move his hand to the sensitive nerves on your waist to keep you steady. 

“Varka…” You push against him again.

He doesn’t say anything.

Soon enough he’s guiding you up the steps of your porch, and you’re unlocking the front door with unsteady hands while he leans against the railing. You glance at him. His chest rises and falls quickly, and he keeps his eyes low like he’s struggling to look at you. Something is on his mind.

“Those last few drinks setting in?” You croak, getting the door open and pushing it forward, the cold air from inside the house hitting your skin.

“Uh—” His eyes snap to yours. “Must be.”

“Come inside for a minute,” you offer, and just hearing the invite spill from your own lips feeds into the arousal already settling in your body from his touch. “Have some water before you walk back. It'll help.”

He considers it, biting his lip. “I appreciate it, but I shouldn’t.” He shakes his head. “Someone else might need a hand…”

“It’ll be fine for a minute,” you push, and Varka’s light blue eyes, half-lidded from intoxication and something else, stay locked on you. “I insist.”

He sighs, nodding slowly in surrender. “Alright. Just for a moment.”

You’re quick to step inside your small but cozy home, Varka following closely, his footsteps heavy against the floorboards. He lets the door fall closed behind him. The only light comes from a dim lamp on the kitchen counter, and you don’t bother with flicking any others on as you hurry over and grab a bottle from your fridge. Your head pounds, begging for a moment of rest, but the rest of your body begs for something else much louder.

Varka meets you in the barely spacious room. When he gets close enough, you can feel his warmth spreading through the chill of the room. 

“Here.” You hand him the water.

Your wonky world manages to center as you watch his large hand unscrew the cap. You roll your bottom lip into your mouth subconsciously, studying the way his biceps flex as he lifts his arm, the way he holds the rim of the bottle just above his mouth, the way his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows…

Varka doesn’t miss the way you throw one leg over the other and clench your thighs, or the way your eyebrows pinch together when you do.

He certainly doesn’t miss the way your eyes stay on him the whole time.

He steps towards you, and just when you think his chest is going to press against yours, he stops. He reaches past you, putting the bottle on the wide kitchen counter you lean against.

“Thank you.”

Your eyes wander as you mumble something that can barely be discerned as a you’re welcome. His shirt is tight around his rigid body, but it’s nothing compared to the way his pants contain a noticeable bulge.

You whisper his name, and it comes out sounding like a plea.

Varka clears his throat. “I should go now.”

You say his name again, your hands reaching out to clutch the sides of his shirt.

This time it’s him saying your name, but instead of a plea, it’s a warning.

You ignore it.

You tug him closer, and only his sheer strength and finely honed self control stops his body from pressing against yours. You look up at him, eyes glossed over with need, hands sliding to his hips.

“I know you followed me out of the pub.” You rasp, one hand trailing up his chest. Varka’s breath hitches, and he braces a palm against the counter right beside your body. 

“I told you,” he whispers, “I saw that you drank too much. I needed to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m not the only one who drank too much, Varka.” Your hand continues its exploration, tangling up in his hair and tugging, forcing him to keep looking at you. Even in your drunken state, he looks beautiful. “You’ve barely been staying upright yourself. You think I haven't noticed?"

His jaw clenches.

“Stay,” you beg, pulling his head down further. “Just for a little longer.”

He swallows. “You’re—”

You press your mouth to his, effectively cutting him off. Both your hands are in his hair now, holding him close. He stills, everything from his movement to his breathing, and right when you think it might be better to pull away and let him leave, his hand is on your hip.

He kisses you back hungrily. His large form pins you to the counter, and when you struggle to grind your needy core against his bulge, he hoists you onto the surface. You lock your legs around his waist, your skirt hiking up, moaning in his mouth at the first real feeling of pleasure when the tent in his slacks rubs against your clit through the thin fabric of your underwear.

“Varka,” you whine. 

He swallows the sound, one of his palms cupping your face as he eagerly presses his tongue past your lips.

“Two minutes,” he mumbles.

You nod in agreement. Two minutes of this, and then he goes back to the pub.

You slide your tongue over his, tasting the regular booze on his breath. It’s addictive, and you yearn to get even more drunk than you already are on nothing but him. 

Varka’s hand closes around your hip to help you along, rolling your hips against his. Your desperate sounds are drowned out by each other’s lips, nothing but the lewd noises of your mouths and rustling fabric filling the otherwise dead silent house.

You throw your head back to breathe, which Varka takes as an invitation to start kissing and sucking at your neck. You tug at his nape, rocking your hips, feeling the way your arousal is soaking through your underwear. You wonder if he can feel how wet you are for him, if there’s a damp spot forming on the front of his pants from you desperately dry humping his clothed cock.

The alcohol makes every small bit of stimulation feel more intense, but your body still begs for something more.

“I need more,” you whine. “Just a little more… A few more minutes, Varka, please.”

He growls against the warm skin of your neck. “Two more minutes.”

His hand dips between your bodies, hooking two fingers in the hem of your underwear and pulling them down your thighs, just enough to expose you under your skirt. You moan in anticipation, bracing one hand on the cold counter top behind you and keeping the other slung over his shoulders.

The pads of his fingers find your clit, and the sound that emerges from deep in your chest is one of utter relief. He starts to draw slow circles, pulling his head out of the crook of your neck to watch the pretty faces his movements elicit. 

“Is this good?” He asks hoarsely, his forehead pressing against yours as he begins to rub your clit faster.

“Yes, oh Gods, Varka!” You close your fist in his hair, head tilting back. “Ah… Please don’t stop.”

He suddenly pulls away. Right when you think he’s honouring his word and your two minutes are up, his digits are replaced with his thumb, and he’s instead nudging your fluttering hole with the pads of his fingers.

“Oh. Yes, Varka…”

He grunts, capturing your lips again as he sinks two fingers inside of your cunt.

You whimper against his mouth, rolling your hips onto his hand greedily. He fills you to the second knuckle, still circling your clit with his thumb. The overload of sensations makes you feel like you’re ascending to a different realm. The pleasure coiling in your lower stomach, the smell of him, the taste, everything.

He drags his fingers across all the right places inside of you, curling them against spots that make you see stars.

Varka groans at the way you clench around his fingers, flicking his wrist with more vigour. “Taking good care of you, am I?”

The pleasure binds tighter, your toes curling, knees squeezing his hips. “Yes, yes, sir.”

“Oh—Fuck.” He steadies your hips, forcing you to stay still as he tips you over the edge. You cry out, back arching and eyes squeezing shut as stars appear in the void. You chant his name like a prayer, and he works you through the orgasm eagerly.

His hand retreats from between your legs once you start to come down.

You whine, sitting up properly and grabbing at his shirt. Your mind couldn't be more fogged thanks to the alcohol and recent orgasm, but you still hold him tightly. “No, don’t go.”

His sighs your name, shaking his head like he already knows he’s lost whatever game you’re playing with him.

“I’m supposed to—”

You reach down to palm his bulge, and he groans out through gritted teeth.

“Two more minutes,” you say, kicking your panties the rest of the way off. “I want to feel you, Varka.”

His eyes meet yours, and the look he’s giving you is the kind of dangerous that has you dripping on the counter below you.

“I’m not asking you to fuck me,” You plead, starting to unbuckle his belt with haste. “Just want to feel you for a second.”

He warns you by saying your name firmly, the authoritative tone making you feel weak.

“Just a little, Varka. Just for a second.”

He doesn’t make any moves to stop you when you pull his belt out of the loops and toss it aside. You unbutton and unzip his slacks, pulling them and his boxers down just enough to let his cock spring out.

The size of him is immediately intimidating, but you ignore it and take the base of him in your palm.

Varka grips the counter with both hands, caging you in, fists turning white.

“Just a little, okay?” You meet his eyes.

His gaze flickers between your face and his cock in your hand.

“Just a little,” he agrees, voice thick with arousal. He pulls your hand off of him, tugging you to the very edge of the counter by your thighs and lining himself up with your cunt.

You’re both panting, watching closely as he nudges your folds with the thick head of his cock. You bite into your lip to conceal a whimper.

You gasp together when his tip pushes inside you. Even just this much causes a small ache to start sprouting deep in your stomach, but even that slight pain is the most pleasant thing you’ve ever felt.

“Varka,” you cry, putting your hands on his shoulders. 

He’s intently staring at where he’s barely pressed inside of you, his cock twitching in anticipation and his swollen lips slightly parted in pleasure.

You lift your hips, trying to urge him deeper, but his hand snaps to your hip before you get the chance.

“A bit more,” you murmur.

Varka inhales sharply. “I can’t—”

“Just a bit, let me feel you.”

He grunts, staying still for a beat before finally pressing another inch of his cock inside of you.

Maybe it’s the way you moan his name, or how your pussy clenches around him, tirelessly trying to tug him in deeper, but Varka snaps.

“I can’t.” He breathes out, bracing both his hands on your hips. “I can’t. I need—”

“It’s okay,” You assure him swiftly, and you drop back to hold yourself up on your forearms. “Take it, Varka. Take—”

He bottoms out in one quick thrust.

You scream, your back hitting the counter as the wonderful swirl of pleasure and pain makes your body entirely succumb to him.

“I’m sorry,” he says, but it barely sounds apologetic as he starts to thrust in and out of you at a quick pace. 

All you can do it take it, arching your back to accommodate him as he fucks you with everything he has. His hips slam against yours with enough force to bruise, and you just sputter out incomprehensible pleas for more. You squeeze and gush around him, making him groan your name.

He bottoms out with each thrust, making sure you feel every single inch of him dragging against your inner walls. He pulls the most beautiful of noises from your chest, each one fuelling him to pound into you with even more force.

“Good girl—So good.” He huffs, voice hoarse, but you barely hear him as you make the shift from alcohol drunk to cock drunk as he drives into you over and over again. He’s filling you up so good, pinning your hips to the counter to keep you in place as he gives you exactly what you were begging for.

Varka grunts, retracting one of his hands to start rubbing your clit as he keeps fucking in and out of you with brutal force.

“Varka!” You squeal, trying to snap your legs shut, but his body planted between your thighs keeps you wide open for him.

He laughs lowly, trailing off into a raspy moan. “Now you want to run?”

“No, no, don’t stop!” You arch your neck, one of your hands flying down to rest on his lower stomach, pushing even though you have no real desire to keep him out. “Varka, I’m so close…”

“Go on,” he encourages, hitting the perfect spot inside of you that makes you slur his name. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

At his command, you cry out and come undone around his cock. He keeps pumping inside of you for a few more strokes before pulling out with a groan, jerking himself off until he spills onto the front of your shirt.

You breathe heavily, going limp against your kitchen counter. Varka tenderly reaches under the hem of your shirt, carefully helping you strip it while he shushes your exhausted, hazy whines. If you were tired leaving the bar, there aren’t words for how spent you feel now.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, guilt coating his voice like he’s coming out of whatever state he entered when he fucked you. “Fuck—”

“No, no.” You whisper, sitting up. You cup his face with two hands, fighting through your exhaustion to kiss him, and this time, he returns it gently, his arms fully encircling your naked body. You pull back just enough to see his face. “Will you stay?”

He grins, his nose brushing against yours. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”

ꕤ Authors note: i had so much fun writing varka the other night so i had to give him his own moment lol. anyway i really want to start writing more because i feel like im never more productive in my day-to-day life than when im writing frequently so id love to hear requests from people if they have any :p obviously i wont write things if they make me uncomfortable or don't really appeal to me but trust im not that picky HAHA thats a lie. tbh ill probably only write for wriothesley, varka, and maybe tartaglia. anyway hope you guys loved :)

[chosolvrr67]

okay hear me out... varka edit to freak by doja cat AT THIS SPECIFIC PART.

DADDY THE GRAND MASTERRRR 🤤🤤🤤 i wish i could edit so badly to execute this vision 💔