characters: albedo x female!reader
synopsis: you tease albedo to see if your lovely gentleman boyfriend ends up losing his composure. he won't, right? he's always been so nice towards you... until one day, you push his buttons way too much. It ends with an extremely sexually frustrated albedo giving you the best fuck of your whole life.
cw: top! albedo (bit ooc), bottom! reader, rough sex, angry sex, clit play, vaginal fingering, fingerfucking, vaginal sex, p in v, manhandling, overstimulation, teasing, grinding, cock slapping, breeding kink, spanking, darcryphilia, creampie, porn with plot, multiple orgasms, table sex, orgasm denial/edging, excessive cum, feral bedo
wc: 8.4k words
yeah um, cw kinda went a bit too much there, which means the smut below is a ride. Albedo is totally ooc, but yall i dont care anymore bcuz i just want him to fuck like a feral animal rn, brain empty, just hips moving. if u enjoyed the fic, thanks, my smut is sometimes all over the place because my fingers begin typing before i even know what i want, especially for albedo o m gee
“Oh, right, Albedo. Get some proper sleep, will you? You look like you will pass out if I send you to a hilichurl camp right now, hahaha!” The Grandmaster sounds out his signature loud laugh again, his huge and wide shoulders bouncing with every breath.
Albedo holds back a sarcastic eye roll, merely sluggishly responding with, “Yes, Grandmaster. I will make sure to get adequate sleep tonight.”
And so, he shuts the door of Varka’s office, and makes a beeline straight back to his office. He passes by knights and familiar faces, offering them quick fake smiles on the way while quickly rushing back. Anyone who stops him for a quick chat ends up being hollered off with a fast murmur of 'sorry I'm busy'. This time, today, he will be confronting you, and you will have no chances for any excuses-
“Albedo~”
Before he gets to even turn his head to identify the voice, his wrist gets tugged into a dark corner of the building.
He stumbles at the sudden yank. Being on high alert, his hand instantly reaches out to his side for his sword, until he recognises that dorkish grin anywhere he goes. The tension on his shoulders drop, a heavy rock lifted off his chest as he exhales in relief, knowing it is not a dangerous enemy, but his girlfriend who has dragged him here.
Albedo barely has the energy to register what he wishes to confront you about, completely forgotten all about it at the back of his head, so he calls you out first, “Y/N. My dearest, I’ve noticed that these days, you have been—”
“I have been naughty?”
Despite being in darkness, Albedo has achieved better night vision than most humans after having stayed nights at Dragonspine. He realises you haven't stopped grinning since the moment you pulled his wrist. You step forward, and he feels… Your chest, breathing heavily, is being squished into his. So, he peers down, and almost lets a curse slip out of his tongue.
Out of all the days, you just have to be wearing that one provocative shirt that shows the most cleavage today. It accentuates your figure, yes. It makes you look like a goddess, yes. It makes Albedo terribly aroused, yes yes yes.
Albedo has never had a clear preference for whether he enjoys your chest or butt more. He likes both of them equally, and thinks that your entire being is perfect. However, when greeted with such a clear vision of… them, how can he not stare?
You are also standing way too close for your own good. He can feel your hot breath tickling, your skin touching his skin, bare.
“I know, ‘Bedo,” Your gaze drifts from his eyes, then his lips, and you lazily look up at his eyes again. A cat-like grin blooms on your visage as you repeat, “I know.”
It’s hell on Teyvat. His body is on fire, thrown into Natlan’s volcano to take a dip, but he ends up being submerged in it. Every strand of his nerves burn bright, flashing emergency signals in his head, but he can barely care. Cold water dumped over his body won’t help much either.
So, he barely holds himself together when you suddenly pull him in for a deep kiss.
Albedo, being completely untouched and unloved for the past week, moans into the kiss almost instantly. He knows the risk is there. The fact that the two of you are still in public, and anyone passing by the corner who looks closely will notice the sinful acts. Albedo knows, but he can’t help deliberately melting into the kiss, as his lips have always meant to be yours. Always.
Deepening the kiss, your hands wrap around his back, tugging him close to your body, while also intentionally pushing your barely-covered breasts against him. A fine weapon, if he must say, because his bulge is straining more against his pants now.
“Mmh, ‘Bedo…” You gasp lightly, when a swipe of his tongue goes across your lower lip, wetting it with his saliva.
In that dark corner, Albedo rejoices at your noises, a melody he has not heard in a week. Before he knows it, his flaccid cock has already hardened up, pumped full of excitement and vigour for enduring all your teasing. Even though the risks of being found out are exceedingly high, and might tarnish his reputation, Albedo gives no fucks.
You continue devouring his lips, claiming it as yours, before grabbing the chance to shove your tongue into his mouth, asserting your newfound dominance over him. The sudden tongue-kissing deems him speechless as your wet, and cold body part swirls around the walls of his mouth, drawing messy indecipherable constellations everywhere. Archons, he feels his knees weakly buckling beneath him from the sheer nerves.
Albedo hates to admit it, but after being edged for so long, he thinks he might come in his pants from just tongue-kissing alone.
“Dearest…”
His arousal is terribly evident when he keeps making inaudible noises throughout the kiss. Whimpering and whining. Sounds he has never allowed you to listen to before, now spilling out of his lips like endless secrets shared between two lovers.
It fuels you even more, when you fight through your tangled tongues, and finally pushing yours deeper until a low guttural moan tears out of his throat into the kiss, and his hips buckle against yours. Then, as if his body has been possessed by lust, he can’t help it when he flips up your skirt, and begins grinding his rock-hard bulge against your covered crotch, begging for whatever friction there is, just enough for him to reach an orgasm.
Truly an erotic scene taken from a romance novel, where the sexual tension hits an all-time high.
“M-My love, aah…” A sinful noise climbs out his throat, as he squeezes his eyes shut in pooling arousal and struggling disbelief, unwilling to believe it came out of him.
Albedo’s hands wander all over your body frantically, feeling your presence, your warmth, right next to him. His hormones run wild, like a teenage boy discovering porn for the first time, as he takes in your womanly scent.
His ears blush a dark red as he gets off to the sound of your pants for air, and the tiny moans that leave your lips when he grinds up at the perfect angle, brushing against your clothed clit. Your panties do nothing to hide the dampness soaking through the fabric. With every jerk of his hips, his protruding bulge bunches up your panties, creating a wet chaos between your legs.
However, as much as you enjoy it, having your boyfriend openly hump you in public, you have gotten way too invested in your games.
Biting down on his lower lip, you gradually part away from the kiss, a clear string of saliva connecting your tongues. At the same time, Albedo pauses his movements, staring at you in both confusion and desperation, like an innocent feline waiting for milk.
You relish the sight of Albedo being undone, a shattered mess before you. His lips are all bruised and plump, glistening wet beneath darkness. And his bulge, somehow bigger and heavier, throbbing alone.
You almost let out a satisfied chuckle at your job well done.
Albedo thinks you are only taking a break from the kiss, because there’s no way you are leaving him alone, right?
Right?
Then, he realises you are adjusting your top, patting down your skirt, and oh no.
“It has been fun playing with you, ‘Bedo, but I need to go. See you next time, love~” You blow him a teasing kiss, send him a wink, turn away, and walk back out into public, intentionally swaying your hips in front of him, acting as if nothing had happened, like you didn’t have a steamy makeout session with him in the Knights of Favonious building.
Albedo stays silent in the dark corner, watching as you happily skip away to the entrance, ready to head home to celebrate yet another success.
He realises that a hot, burning sensation that has been slowly building up in his core over the week, has already reached its limit long ago, but he’s been suppressing it out of courtesy for your feelings.
But now?
It’s a fucking calamity exploded into wild dancing flames throughout his blood.
The standby knights feel the ends of their hair rising when a figure, everyone knows too well as the alchemist of Mondstadt, crosses paths with them. However, he doesn’t speak a word, nor does he spare a glance at them. They don’t dare to greet him either, feeling his aura totally unfamiliar and pulsing with danger.
He remains quiet, taking one, two, three steps towards the ecstatic girl, like a waiting predator about to pounce on its oblivious prey.
So, you want to keep playing this game, don’t you? Pushing him way beyond his limits just to witness his composure falling apart?
This is what you wanted, and at that moment, Albedo doesn’t care what anyone will say anymore.
All he knows now, is that he sees red.
A loud gasp escapes your lips when someone grips onto your wrist harshly, tugging you towards them without a word. You struggle against the person’s grasp, wincing when you realise how tight they are holding onto your wrist.
“Hey! That’s not- huh? ‘Bedo-”
“A single word more, and I’ll fuck you right here, and now.”
When you say you are shocked. It’s an understatement.
You are fucked.
Locking eyes with Albedo terrifies you. The look in Albedo’s eyes when he growled at you, is not a gaze your Albedo will give you. Your Albedo gazes at you softly, and kindly, treating you like his whole world. This Albedo… His gaze is darkened with desire and lust. He looks like he’s about to fuck your world into shambles, until you don't even know which dimension you are in anymore.
It’s what you wanted, right? To see your boyfriend lose it all. So, despite the excitement pumping in your heart, why are you also scared of what he might do to you?
You gulp down your anxiousness, letting him drag you up the stairs like a rag doll, his footsteps and yours thumping loudly against the steps in the busy building. However, with Albedo being at the very front, everyone notices the ice-cold expression paired with his tightened jaw. Without another word, everyone clears out a path for the alchemist in fear. Of course, there are hushed whispers when they realise he’s dragging you in a hurry.
It takes everything in you to fight the blush rushing up your cheeks. There’s no way these people don’t know what’s about to happen to you.
When the two of you reach his office, he immediately throws the door closed with one hand. Your body instantly jerks up at the sudden sound, eyes running across the room in a panic, trying not to lock gaze with him.
You know better to not anger Albedo now.
But it’s a little bit too late, because your alchemist boyfriend is now towering over you, hand slammed at your side, against the door, trapping you beneath his figure. Albedo isn’t muscular, nor is he extremely tall like other knights, but you often forget that he’s strong. Horrifyingly strong.
Suddenly, you appear so weak, so fragile, nothing like the devilish girl that’s brought him to the edge countless times.
Low chuckles bubble up his chest, as he leans down to your face, a distance way too close where you can feel his breath fanning your lips. You notice the crazed look in his eyes. Beyond that, the field of teal is obscure. You can't make anything out of them, not a single hint of Albedo. Your Albedo. It stores nothing but lust, the sexual longing and yearning to stamp his name everywhere on your skin.
“Where’s the bravery from earlier, my love?” The corner of his lips rises to a lopsided smirk, and he tips your chin up with his gloved fingers, a stark contrast to the whimpering man you had beneath you earlier.
“Isn’t this what you wanted? For me to lose my composure, Y/N?”
The alchemist grips onto your chin, forcing you to stare straight into his lost eyes, but god, your boyfriend looks even hotter like this, and you hate admitting it.
Yet, you wonder if there are people outside his office right now. The curious ones, pressing their ears against the door behind you. Or, the oblivious ones, wandering around, about to listen to the most erotic sex happen in their godsent kind alchemist’s office.
Would the people downstairs comment about your sudden departure into Albedo’s office?
Would they gossip and whisper about how he’s busy taking care of his girlfriend’s needs, when in reality, he’s about to give you the most mindblowing sex of all times?
The thought of it boils your stomach, sending raging bursts of heat straight down to your clenched core. You can’t help but feel a certain wetness begin to pool below you again, staining your clothing, as much as you’re ashamed of.
Albedo tugs on your chin abruptly, gripping it hard, eliciting a surprised gasp from his aggressiveness as he forces you to look at him in the eyes again, “Did I say that you can go ahead and daydream?”
His other hand, the one trapping you against the wall, trails down the side of your chest, then your waist, in an anguishly slow manner, as if making you suffer back all the teasing you’ve given him.
“You caused this upon yourself, dearest. Now it’s time to take responsibility for your own actions, because I’m losing my fucking patience.”
In a few seconds, Albedo’s tongue is all over you like a wild beast, licking at your lips, the corners, your neck. All the while, he takes off his coat, hurls it across his office without looking, focusing on only claiming you with his saliva.
His tongue swirls across your skin in hurried circles, wetting every spot he knows that makes you shiver. And when he has enough fun, he captures your lips in one go, shoving his tongue down your throat, as you did to him earlier. The action immediately elicits a loud gasp to escape your lips, but he shuts you up with another deep shove of his tongue, like he’s attempting to choke you.
Then, before you know it, he’s squeezing your breast in his hand, and pushing his pulsing erection into your thigh, distracting you from the fact that he’s already taking off your skirt.
People might think this entire situation is scary, but you? You are so turned on. By his actions, yes. But also this new side of Albedo that you have successfully unlocked. His loss of control, his rudeness, his frustration. Everything is directed to you.
And, not only did you make him curse, but he’s really lost all the strings holding him together. No doubt, he’s going to fuck you up, outwardly and inwardly.
Truthfully, never have you ever thought your boyfriend could be even sexier. This is proof, and you will gladly enjoy Albedo angrily fucking you until you see stars.
“I said, don’t-” Smack. “-daydream.”
Albedo has just landed a harsh smack on the back of your ass, sending you flying forward to his arms. You really do see the entire astronomy system in your eyes now, and the stars can't help but feel bad for what you are about to get yourself into. You don't care. This is a life-changing experience to be spanked by Albedo, and you can’t help but whimper at the pleasurable pain shooting up your body, a noise barely covered by you biting down on your lip.
“Hah, I can’t believe this,” The blond tears off your top in one go, as you watch in horror at how effortlessly it was for him to rip through fabric. Albedo is strong, and has always been, this is just the reminder you need.
He tugs off the skirt from your legs, before throwing it to another corner in the room, leaving you only in your undergarments now. You have no idea where he’s thrown the rest of his clothes, but when you look up at him, he’s already shirtless, revealing his lean build.
Suddenly, his digits are touching your clothed pussy, feeling your fluids that have seeped through the thin fabric. You nearly moan when he presses down onto your clothed clit, the one spot throbbing through the thin fabric, already damp, against his fingers.
Albedo knows your sweet spots way too well. As gentlemanly as he's born to be, Albedo is just like you said. Sex walking on legs. Yet, this time, instead of taking his sweet time with you, prioritising your pleasure, he jumps straight into your underwear, rubbing your clit at a speed like never before. Applying enough pressure, at the fastest speed.
The formula of destruction.
Albedo continues pressing his bulge into your thigh, grinding slightly to fulfil his own desires too. You steal a glance, and notice the thick outline of his cock in his pants, visibly twitching and straining at every touch he gains. One wrong move, and it might explode from its tight cages. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, hiding his amused smirk, and assaults your ear with a half-whisper tone, “Sooooo naughty, aren’t we, hm?”
He watches in pride as your body jolts like it’s on fire, broken moans and screams of ‘’s too much’ falling off your drooling lips. Yet, he doesn’t stop circling your puffy clit, smearing your slick everywhere on your folds as he makes your pussy a mess. He doesn’t care. As if all the logic in his mind, his aim for precision, everything— gone.
Your core clenches when he continues rubbing onto your clit like it's a toy, and it gets unbearable when you realise his gaze has been pinned onto your face since the beginning, drinking in every expression you make when he fastens his pace. Albedo enjoys watching you fall apart.
When he’s done abusing your clit, and decides you are close enough to an orgasm, he pauses. As a response, you whine out loud at the loss of his fingers.
It instantly earns you a harsh smack on the ass, “Whine again, and I won’t let you come.”
You let out a quiet whimper, which quickly turns into a scream midway when two of his fingers suddenly plunge deep into your wet pussy, arching his perfectly-carved digits in a way that makes you see the whole galaxy before you.
“Ah, you're clenching into me so tightly… Does it feel that good?” He grins deviously, pupils darkened with built-up fury and pure lust; not even a single reflection can be seen in them.
Never once have you wished to wipe off the smirk from your boyfriend’s lips. You aren’t even sure if it’s your boyfriend making you feel good anymore; he’s an entirely different being, a feral one. And you love it, a little too much.
The sudden cold digits pumping inside of you at a pace so fast, it hurts, yet it feels so good for some reason. With every plunge, he invades your insides, arching his fingers, and hitting so deep. His fingers feel so incredible, you almost mistake them for his huge cock that once gently thrusted into you, paired with the hushed whispers of compliments beside your ear.
There’s none of that sweet stuff now.
Only Albedo, and his desire to ruin you.
“A-aah, ah, mmh, f-fuck!” Your breasts bounce with every deep plummet of his fingers, somehow brushing against your g-spot now and then, eliciting a cry of his name from your wet lips.
God, this is way too erotic for your own good. Imagine being fingered by your lovely alchemist boyfriend by the door, with your moans uncontrollably slipping out of your tongue, not knowing about the things happening outside. There could be people behind that door you’re pushed against, listening to his slim, porcelain fingers pumping inside your wet slick.
Your thoughts run further away when Albedo suddenly, once again, rips through the fabric of your underwear, cursing lowly to himself in such a sexy way, your pussy nearly throbbing in pain from how hot everything he does is.
Then, before you know it, his lips slam into yours, kissing you with so much passion, tongue claiming dominance over your walls, tasting and panting wildly, like he's doing everything to absorb your existence. You nearly forget you’re in his office when you groan against him, knee pressing against his thigh, a grounding technique for yourself.
You feel his hand travelling up your waist, frantically running up your back, and moving to your bra, skillfully clicking the back open, before letting it collapse to the floor beside you.
Albedo continues hungrily devouring your face, but he finds new joy in teasing your chest. He flicks your nipple, thumbing it in between his free hand, twisting it, squeezing it, playing with it in all kinds of ways that cause your pussy to clench hard on his digits.
The tension grows hotter, so does your body, alighting into flames that invade your face, flushing your cheeks red. You don’t know what kind of face you are making anymore. Does it even matter? You just know that his fingers are fucking into you so nicely, his name falls off your lips like a desperate chant.
“M-Mmh, ‘Bedo- Fuuuuck, A-Albedo~!” You accidentally clench down on him so hard, he has to use all his strength to force his fingers inside you, and somehow he ends up reaching even deeper into your hole, making your juices drip around his palm, down to the wooden floor.
Albedo curses under his breath, feeling himself harden at the wet squelches coming from his work. As he curls his fingers to stretch you within, another squelching sound occurs from all the slippery slick inside you. It is truly wonderful how the human body can get aroused so easily.
And, it is truly wonderful how you, a human, can make him lose his mind over lust.
Your noises get louder, like they’re aiming for the heavens. Your attempts to muffle them by biting down on your lower lip prove futile when Albedo realises what you’re doing.
“Ah ah, don’t keep your voice down, love. I’m sure everyone would like to hear how desperate you are, clenching onto my fingers like this…” He doesn’t stop assaulting you with his digits, hammering you until you’re all full and well-stretched enough to take his cock.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Everything I’m doing to you right now. Me, losing control after you teased me, left me aroused all week…” Albedo thinks he’s high on drugs when he inhales sharply, as if taking in your erotic figure, catching your breath while your body is glazed in sweat.
He can’t help it when he darts to latch onto your neck like a bloodthirsty vampire, smelling your intoxicating scent until he hastily turns to sucking and licking, leaving desperate purple hickeys all across your skin ruthlessly.
Your body nearly gives up and collapses at the sudden sensory appreciation from Albedo. It jerks with every thrust of his two fingers, arches with every touch of his lips on your skin. It’s true, you’ve been degraded to a puppet made for Albedo, who cruelly controls how your body reacts with only his hands.
Like it’s a natural instinct from your body, your eyes nearly flutter close in pleasure when Albedo’s breathy, lower register floods into your ears.
“Hah, your reactions are telling me you’re gonna come all over my fingers soon. Is that right, my dear?” He pants, quickening the pace of his fingers pumping into your wet, swollen pussy, reaching into the deepest spots inside you, while your hips squirm needily for more, more, more.
Your mouth falls open in shame, only a name audible from all the lewd squelches, “Y-Yes yes yesssssss, o-ooh fuuuuck, ‘Bedobedobedo, ‘guna cummmmh—”
His name becomes part of your prayers, as you pray for yourself to keep conscious when you orgasm, because your organs are on fire. Your lower part is scorching in sex. Hot sex from your handsome, sexy alchemist boyfriend. The you who has just started dating Albedo will never believe your future self's words, because what do you mean Albedo is now fingers deep inside your sex, mumbling dirty filthy phrases beside your ear?
However, it seems he has other plans, because the moment you feel yourself inching closer to that satisfying burst of delight, Albedo takes out his fingers with a wet ‘pop’, leaving you needy and empty.
“Sadly, I’m not done with you yet.”
Is all he says.
Before he drags you by the arm harshly, almost stumbling as he drifts towards his office chair in a hurry. Then, he eases himself onto his chair, and begins taking off his shirt, revealing his toned, yet lean body beneath it. Your boyfriend has always looked this fine underneath the layers of clothing he wears. It’s always been your pride and joy that you’re the only one who gets to discover what he hides underneath…
Especially the thing underneath his pants.
“Albedo…”
You gulp, anticipation and sexual frustration become your best friends as you watch him unbuckle his belt, tug off his pants until they drop to his knees. However, when he reaches for his underwear, he intentionally takes a longer time dragging it down.
Catching the growing smug smirk on his face, your guts boil with a newfound hatred for your boyfriend’s flawless face. The agony. You hate him so much in that moment, you wish to yell in his face to just, fuck you already.
As if he’s heard your inner voice, he heeds your calls and finally pulls his underwear down. Almost immediately, your naked sight is graced with his thick, long, throbbing cock being freed from its shackles, bobbing with a deep, angry red at the leaking tip. It slaps against his abdomen, leaking like a faucet. Your eyes follow the trail of sticky pre-cum, rolling down his veiny shaft, to his balls: round and aching in raging sexual frustration, as if it’s been waiting for a whole lifetime to pump you full with his semen.
Witnessing the effect you’ve had on him for the past week, leaves you breathless. This is what you’ve been waiting for, the outcome of your efforts. So, why is your heart beating out of your chest, acting like his cock is going to fuck you brainless?
Maybe because it is. From the way Albedo is eyeing you down like a predator ready to swallow his prey, except this time, he’s doing it with his dick. And, it’s huge, it’s heavy, it’s the hardest you’ve seen it. It’s legitimately standing on its own, fully erect and ready to breed. You imagine holding it in your hand, and think how it's probably going to twitch, palpitating like it has its own heartbeat.
Archons. You want him so badly, you want his cock inside you desperately, your cunt is practically dripping and clenching on air right now.
“Turn around.”
Your brain gets erased into a pile of mush when he uses that sultry voice on you, leading your body to react before your thoughts even form.
“W-Wha— a-aah!”
His fingers immediately slip right into your cunt, slotting them deep inside, causing your hips to jerk slightly. You hear his breath quicken by the ear into something more needy, more longing. His expression is unreadable as you're facing away from him, but he doesn't seem to react in any way. You clench your thighs together firmly, savouring the feeling of his digits being buried in you, as if he’s using it as a heater for his naturally cold fingers.
However, it gets worrying when he doesn’t speak a single word, and goes completely eerily silent. Instead, his breathing gets louder. And by that, you mean very loud, it’s undoubtedly abnormal. You, with your naked body fully exposed, his fingers still buried inside you, manage to stutter out a question of concern for him, “U-Uhm… ‘Bedo, are you fine?”
You are met with a moment of great silence.
…
Until his voice drops an octave lower, rumbling so heavily with a certain husk, it almost seems like a whisper.
“You should hold on tight,” Albedo inhales sharply, and it sends shivers down your spine.
You blink, “Huh-”
“Because I’m done playing the nice guy.”
It felt like it was barely a second, perhaps even a millisecond, when he pulled out his fingers to dig his nails into the sides of your hips, and before you know it, he’s yanking your body down with full force.
A sudden, enchanting moment of clarity flashes in your head when an entire hard and erect, pulsing cock, gets forcefully shoved inside your cunt in one go. No lube, only your wetness, and his pre-cum, as well as his two fingers as prep. It’s just completely gone in, mushroom tip kissing the entrance of your sweet womb. Even your scream gets cut off at the sudden shock of his entire length fully penetrating your insides.
It is like a wake-up call, yanking your consciousness back into reality, that you are, right now, sitting on a cock. Not just anyone’s.
But Albedo’s cock.
And the thought of it clicks right into your body, nerves go haywire.
You come. Hard. On his cock.
Eyes completely rolling to the back of your head to meet the heavens, while your slick-dripped thighs quiver at your orgasm. Only your small, hushed moans fill the air.
“You came? Just from that?” You hear Albedo’s voice, but your field is still a blur from your climax.
Yet, you recognise those low chuckles anywhere, and it’s not a good sign.
“Since you want it so badly… Then take it.”
You are clueless whether it’s a day of fortune or misfortune, because Albedo begins thrusting his flushed cock into you. Not like his usual gentle and ginger pace, where he’s asking about your comfort every second. No. That side of Albedo is gone, and you know it.
He’s ramming his entire length into your pussy ruthlessly, gripping onto your waist, plunging his nails into your flesh like it’s his lifeline, yanking you and shoving you back down onto his length without even needing you to move.
“O-Ooh, f-fuck! ‘B-Bedo, ‘m still— haaah! still cumminnnn’—!” You cry out from the overstimulation, vigorously kicking your legs up in the air at the feeling of your insides being stretched to the maximum at the godlike speed of his thrusts, bullying you, filling up every inch and crevice inside you with his throbbing length.
The pleasure gets overbearing, and you think you might die from this. No. You will die. Your body erupts in flames, and his touch becomes the icy cool wind that delivers shudders across your back, automatically arching it.
He doesn’t hear your cries, your breathless gasps, and gives not a single fuck about your flailing. Instead, he fumbles clumsily, propelling your body up against his desk. With his leaking cock still inside you, you feel every movement and shift as he gets up. It even bumps against your g-spot, sending you into a sensitive, quaking mess, eliciting countless broken moans to fall out of your lips.
Albedo, panting heavily, without a word, pulls out his cock from your cunt, grunting at the way you’re still subconsciously sucking him back in despite your struggles. He watches in awe, dark pupils dilated in arousal and curiosity, as a thick string of your liquids combined together, connects the tip of his cock with your entrance. Like it was meant to be. Like the trope in romance novels, red string of fate, except this time, it's the lewd version.
The sudden emptiness has your soaked thighs rubbing against each other for friction, already missing the sensation of Albedo being buried deep inside you. You hold back the whine, remembering his words, but you’re loose, puffy, ready to take his cock in again, so why is he not putting it back in?!
“O-Oh god, ‘B-Bedo!”
The whimper held behind your lips rips out your throat as a mewl when Albedo slaps his thick, heavy cock against your lonely clit. The action sends sparks of electricity all across your nerves. Your clit has always been the most sensitive part of your body, and Albedo knows it.
He always knows what makes you cum easily.
So, he drags his heavy length across your pulsating clit, pressing down with slight force, enough to make your fallen body tremble on his desk.
“This.”
He taps the head of his swelling cock against your clit, easing you into a whimpering mess. A new bead of pre-cum forms on the head, glistening and sticky. He watches as your swollen clit pulses when he drags his cockhead across, your lower body quaking when he smudges the translucent fluid sloppily on the bud, as if marking your clit.
Then, he draws down to your wet folds, letting your juices mix with his pre-cum, before he languidly slides his all-too-familiar tip inside your warmth, sounding out a long, satisfied groan at the tight comfort of your walls.
“And this….”
He stops, leaving his bulbous tip in, relishing the beautiful sight of your creamy pussy tightening around anything you can have inside, even if it means just having his tip. His hands wander up the sides of your bottom and knead into your ass, before parting them open forcefully, exposing a world that's way beyond Albedo's fantasies. He sees the way your cunt drips out a sticky mess, your fluids flowing and mixing with his pre-ejaculate, shrouding his base.
“All mine.”
With one sharp snap of his hips, Albedo aggressively fucks back his throbbing cock into you on his paper-filled desk. Your entire body jumps forward, slamming into the wooden table while he plummets his cock in and out of your dripping pussy, like a machine built to only fuck.
“M-Mmh…!”
Everything is so loud.
Your uncontrollable moans, paired with his breathless pants and grunts. Your body is rocking against the table as he pins you down, separating your cheeks open for the whole world to see. Your cunt is easily taking his cock without a complaint. It’s almost terribly lewd, the slick sounds of him meeting your insides getting louder and louder, like a max-level pornographic novel that will set the world on fire.
Perhaps, even the people outside, miles away, can hear the sinful sounds from his office. The thought of it is euphoric; you can’t help but tighten around him.
…Wait, did he just get bigger?!
“You feel that?” He growls roughly, voice turned low-pitched, like a feral animal in heat.
Albedo places a hand on your tummy and slams his flushed, hard cock right back in, causing you to fly forward with a desperate cry. He watches from behind, through hooded bedroom eyes, the evident bump that has appeared in the middle of your stomach, mimicking the shape of his pulsing length.
“That’s me stretching you from the inside.”
Albedo’s veiny cock slips straight into your sweet spot, curving perfectly like it’s made to make you come all the time. His palm presses firmly against the bulge on your stomach, causing you to roll your eyes back from the pleasure.
To further fulfil his curiosity, he pulls back out, noticing how the earlier swelling has gone down in your stomach, following the movement of his hips. With a quivering breath, he lines up his tip, before ramming back in- the bulge reappearing, proudly taking its spot right below your belly button. He goes in so deep, the only thing keeping you grounded is your nails clawing against the wood of his desk, leaving a long trail of scratch marks like a wild cat gone rabid.
“My entire cock, inside you, pulsing so deep- fuck...”
He lies his front on your back, thrusts never faltering as you feel his hands wandering up your chest, before squeezing tightly onto your breasts. The close skin-to-skin contact ticks all the right boxes, as he breathes up against your sensitive ear, hot breath fanning your skin.
Your lips go parted, knowing that every action he does somehow makes your pussy needily flutter against his cock.
“Please…” You cry out, hips starting to grind against his, pressing your ass against his hipbone in desperation for more. More of what? You have no idea. Post-orgasm emotions still invade your mind while your horniness grows even worse in your stomach. “Please… F-Faster!”
“So needy.”
Albedo, proves his strength again by holding up your thigh, hooking it with his arm, causing you to squeal in surprise at the new position. You’re glad you’ve been trained in flexibility before, leaving you easily dropping into different sex positions to spice up your sex life. Now, with the clearer view, and no blocks, he will be able to fuck you better, right?
And god, you are so, so wrong. Because it’s not just better. It’s life-changing.
When the first roll of his hips occurs, you know you will be milking his cock dry.
“H-Hah, I’m going to ruin you. Gonna- mmh… come inside you with the cock you love so much.” Albedo’s leaky tip kisses your cervix again, and you realise how further deep this new position allows him to go, letting him easily abuse your womb every time he plunges inside you, driving his veiny cock into your leaking pussy again, and again, and again, until your mind becomes addicted to sex.
You feel it. Every ridge, every vein, every single inch of his cock, pounding intensely in you. The words get stolen from your throat. It’s perfect. Albedo’s perfect.
Your eyes well up with tears of pleasure, threatening to roll back again at how good he’s making you feel. The overwhelming pleasure takes over your whole body, and all you can think of is the man using you to get off. His name. His face. His lips. His cock.
Never once has Albedo made you cry in sex, this is a new thing.
Just like how, in this new position, you get to see every single detail. By that, you mean every single detail. The way his tip disappears into your hole, followed by his base. Like your pussy is swallowing him up, and granting him a blessing of the white creamy ring around his shaft. Then, your half-lidded eyes drift up, catching a wondrous sight of his expression, scrunched brows, angry and very horny.
And, he seems to catch you staring at him. So, he stares down at you, and… bites you down on the thigh, but he’s not just done yet- he swirls his tongue around your naked skin, filling the room with wet slurps from his mouth.
You don’t know how it manages to make you clench hard on his cock, but it just does. Seeing him molesting your skin, dragging his tongue everywhere on your body… It’s very erotic, and the sounds of your wet squelches only lead you to flush deeper in the face.
Albedo enjoys it. Of course, he does.
So, he intentionally slows down his pace, only deciding to roll his hips at a tortoise speed, which fuels you with madness. “‘Bedo, p-please… Move!”
“Pardon, my love?”
Having no more dignity to preserve, you turn to him frantically, revealing your tearful eyes and reddened face, as you beg in front of him, “F-Fuck me hard, 'Bedo! P-Please, fasTERR— mmHFUCK!”
Seeing your messed-up face is somehow the last straw for Albedo to lose his grip on the last string of humanity. It might be your first time crying during sex, but it's also Albedo's first time seeing you cry during sex. Perhaps, those random novels that he read when he was bored were right. If you never try, you never know. And he's holding a heart full of gratitude, because the crystal tears that well up in your eyes while he's balls deep inside you, is the most provocative thing he's seen in his whole life. He swears, his cock twitched.
He manages to thrust even faster than before, frantically slamming his hips straight into your cunt, his balls slapping against the entrance of your warm heat, while he unleashes his frustration into you. Your hole inhales him right in, morphing and shaping itself into the ideal mould only for his cock to bury in.
The four walls echo endlessly with burning lust, the sounds of his cock abusing your wet, sloppy cunt. It overpowers your voice effortlessly, you can't even hear your own moans anymore when all is just:
Fwop. Fwop. Fwop.
“Say it… Say that you are going to tease me again,” Albedo’s lips press against your leg in the air, as he, too, starts breaking apart into moans.
You mewl in delight when he grazes upon your sweet, sensitive spot again, “N-No! Mm-mmmh! ‘M not g-gonna do it again- haaahh~!”
“Good.”
His groans become music to your ears, eyebrows furrowed, sweat dripping down his abdomen, and every hammer of his hips grows more rapid, ferocious and clumsy, like he’s just thrusting straight into your hole without a thought in his head, only lust controlling his actions. Which is unlike Albedo.
You decide that he’s nearing his orgasm, just like how you feel a rising ache building up in your core.
All of a sudden, he pushes your leg further up his shoulder, letting it helplessly dangle in the air while he tests the limits of your flexibility. He's basically folding you in half for his own advantage, apathetic towards your limbs. Your breath hitches. It hurts, it hurts. But god, you are floating in paradise in merry.
Albedo, your sweet, sweet Albedo, resumes fucking his hard cock into you, hitting your sweet spot every time, making sure that every part of you feels his length, his veins, his tip, driving forcefully into your spongy walls.
“I- ‘Bedo— ‘m feelin’ hhahhmggh~♡ s-so… aaahn— so c-close~♡!” Your words slur when your drooling tongue sticks out of your mouth from the overwhelming pleasure. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, toes clenching into a desperate arch as your insides get warmer.
An erotic expression being worn on your face sends electricity straight to Albedo's dick, and he twitches inside you. He loves it. He loves this.
“H-Haahh…” He squints his eyes, head thrown back slightly as he lets out a shaky breath. His golden locks are dishevelled, sweat is sticking to his forehead and every part of his naked body. Truly a rare sight to behold for the alchemist. Yet, his eyes are filled with intense concentration and eagerness, nearly fluttering close when you clench particularly hard onto him.
The sight of his cute submissive girl, moaning needily on his throbbing cock, as he drills into her.
This is the reason for life, Albedo thinks.
His adrenaline goes off peak, and there's the tingling feeling surging in his groin. The sensation pushes his hips to rut against you rabidly, feeling your walls clamp down on him desperately. The way you always, always drink him all in. His hips buck upwards on instinct, and he lets out a low, ragged moan. The grip he has on your thigh grows painful until it bruises a dark purple, clutching onto your flesh like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.
Albedo loses himself in it, and if it weren’t for his hold, you would be collapsing from the utter force and drive of his hips. Now, your body has gone numb from staying in the same gruelling position for too long, and you’re just completely relying on Albedo’s super strength to keep you standing. Surprisingly, not a single inch of trouble is seen in those eyes of his. He grasps onto your body with a bruising grip, like you are a trophy that will run away if he doesn't have his hands on you.
“Oh fuck— fuck!” The table creaks with another frantic shove of his cock, and you swear, it might break by the time Albedo is finished with you. However, the heat in your stomach gets too intolerable, your head ends up getting thrown back in ecstasy, while the breath gets knocked out of your lungs. Even your vision begins to blur. You know you're nearly at the edge.
But oh, you are crying. Tears rolling down your cheeks but you're not even sad, you're crying because it feels too good. Albedo's cock is making you feel so, so good. A sign that you're completely ruined, destroyed, demolished by Albedo, and you are so, so grateful for it. Him, fucking your brains out until you even forget your own name, and his has become the mantra that repeats in your head.
Albedo becomes desperate in chasing for that one euphoric moment again. He doesn’t stop plunging you, hammering your guts, rearranging it to an artistic piece, acting like you’re just a hole for him to fuck and fill up.
He groans, and the low sultry voice of your man steals your breath away, heating your abdomen further, “After today, everyone… everyone in this building will know—”
Albedo never stops. He truly never does.
“—that I was the one fucking into you nice and deep.”
And with one final strong piston of his hips, you’ve already fallen off the edge, seeing stars in your vision as you entrap his cock. The head of his cock goes in deep, mercilessly jamming against the entrance of your womb when he comes, spurting out his release.
“Fuck—” He moans, feeling your pussy spasming within, as the weight of his body drops forward to your sweat-stained skin. His hips jitter while his cock pulsates inside your tight cunt, flooding your insides with his heavy, thick, white ropes of cum.
Your body trembles with his, mouth hanging by a pin as you catch your breath. Both of you take time to bask in the waves of pleasure.
Perhaps, you really did overdo your teasing the whole week, because Albedo is taking a long time to finish shooting his load inside you.
Your weak body barely registers everything anymore, not even when his lips land on yours, drawing you to a gentle, soft kiss. His hips languidly roll into you, feeling his own cum sloshing in your cunt, as he continues to pump you full with another round of his hot seed, filling you up completely after being pent-up for the whole week.
You feel so full, more full than all the other times Albedo has gotten intimate with you. Every violent spurt of his hot semen inside you is almost physically felt.
And when he pulls back from the kiss, you see your boyfriend again, your Albedo, the sweet version, smiling at you.
“I might have overdone it, my love. I apologise,” He says, as he gives you multiple pecks across your face, not bothering about your sweat or dried tears.
“Mmmh, you came so much…” You whine against his lips, lazily moving your body across the desk. He notices how his papers have either gotten stained with your sweat, or scattered across his room.
So, this is what it’s like for him to lose control…
Albedo feels bad, but he knows that you’ve enjoyed it, because even though he has been aggressive all this time, deep inside, he still cares for your well-being, and ensured that you’ve been comfortable with it. If there’s even a slight sign of you being emotionally or physically affected, he would have stopped everything in a heartbeat.
To bring it to an end, Albedo enjoys the last few seconds of his cock being buried against your cervix, before finally deciding to sheathe his cock from your pussy, trying his best to ignore how you’re still clenching onto him, like you’re unwilling to let go of the pleasure he’s given you.
And, when he does pull out, the sight is obscene.
With his cock stopped being the plug, the juices inside you begin to spill out all at once, thick white cum, his cum dripping down your thighs, with some even leaving wet stains on his floorboards.
Usually, he will worry about the difficulties of cleaning it off, but somehow, today, it’s weirdly… Erotic.
“‘Bedo… Um… ‘Bedo?”
“Yes, my love?”
“Are you… turned on again?”
“Pardon?”
He instinctively looks down, and oh, oh yeah. His cock, glistening wet, is fully erect again, twitching and jerking, leaking non-stop of pre-cum like it’s ready to go another round.
Then, Albedo fakes a cough, and looks up to meet your eager expression. Instantly, it clicks, and he knows what it means.
The alchemist takes a few steps forward towards your panting body, perfectly spread out on the desk, just for him. He lets his fingers run across your thighs, your waist, and your hips, taking in the beauty of his only love.
He relishes the sounds of your quiet mewls, your fragile body stirring in his arms, when his spent cock rubs against your swollen entrance. So wet, and so welcoming, like you are just made to warm up his cock.
“My dearest, would you mind…”
Albedo’s throbbing cock effortlessly glides inside your warm cunt like water, stuffing the earlier leaking cum back into your pussy, eliciting a drawn-out moan from your lips.
“Enlightening your boyfriend even longer?”
And that’s how you find yourself on his desk again, legs spread out wide like a platter of dessert, while Albedo shallowly thrusts in and out of you, succumbing to his desires of more, more, and more of you.
The sun sets, and the two of you have forgotten about the perception of time, especially Albedo, who continues dumping loads after loads, cock still hard, no matter how many times he’s filled you up. The office becomes a complete mess, but he can’t seem to care, gaze only pinned on his loved one, as he eases his thick length back into your twitching body, coaxing you into yet another orgasm. You don't know how many times you have heard him murmur beside your ear, 'just one more' in a desperate tone, while he fucks his seed back into you, letting the excess drip down your thighs. You can only tiredly nod at his words that easily tug at your soft heart.
But it’s alright.
Albedo always knows how to take care of you.
Always.
You thank whoever created him, because this is the best, absolute best fucking sex of your life.
summary — your hare was finally back, and after 5 years of pent-up sexual frustration, he was going to show you just how badly he missed you.
themes — hybrid AU, reunion sex (5 year absence baby), hare!lohen, bunny!reader, smut and feelings, prone bone, creampie and orgasm, breeding kink, praise, they're in love your honor ♡
WC: 1.1k | ao3
You hadn’t expected Lohen to show any restraint after his return from Nod-Krai, nor did you want him to.
“Holy fuck,” he said, his breath ragged and heavy. “Bunny, I fucking missed you.”
Your fingers clawed into the pillow beneath you, your eyes wide. The undeniable plap, plap, plap! of his hips against yours resounded through the room, and as you were practically immobilized beneath him, you let out a strained cry. The way he filled you to the brim with each and every thrust, how he dug his teeth into the back of your neck like you were his prey—it had been a long five years of waiting for this.
“Fuck,” you whimpered, the wet slaps of your cunt sending warmth into your face. “Lohen, fuck.”
“Yeah?” he growled. “You like that, Bun?”
“Yes,” you sputtered immediately. “Archons above, Lohen, I—…” Your voice devolved into a whimper. “I missed you so much.”
“Missed me, huh? Missed the way I fill you up?” His hips were lascivious—this pace was incomprehensible. As he laved his tongue along the back of your furry ear; suckling, kissing, biting; he growled, “I won’t make you wait long at all, Bunny. I’ll fucking give it to you if you want me to.”
Sweet Barbatos—you had missed this terribly. Fucking yourself with that silicone dildo every time you were in heat did nothing but make you miss him more over these past five years. You had almost forgotten how good that flesh of his felt, warm and heavy against your back, pinning you against the mattress with his unmistakable displays of dominance. Where your mind lapsed, your body remembered, your cunt wrapping around him with an unparalleled amount of strength. Lohen panted shamelessly by your ear, continuing to feast on any and every exposed inch of skin he could reach from behind you. You felt one of his knees push yours out further across the sheets, amplifying the sound of sex as it filled the air around you.
“You want it?” he asked hotly.
“Yeah,” you whined. “I do.”
He laughed. “Say less, Princess. You’re gonna fuckin’ get it.”
Your toes curled into the soles of your feet as a series of soft gasps escaped you. Lohen’s hips, which were already plowing you at a mind numbing pace, somehow managed to fuck you even faster. The way he stretched you, how his head jammed right against that spot that made you see stars—it was too much.
And yet, not enough.
“More,” you gasped, tears streaming down your cheeks. Your nails clawed the pillow, your hips tried to buck back into his. “Lohen, give me more.”
“Mm, fuck,” he spat. “You know exactly what to say to me, Bun. You’re so fuckin’ sexy, I can’t stand it.”
“Oh, God,” you sputtered, squirming underneath him. “Lohen, please.”
With a loud snarl, he chomped his teeth into your ear, digging hard enough to draw blood to the surface. You leaned your head back and wailed, feeling the deepening rut of his hips rock the very bed beneath you. As the headboard slammed into the wall, as you worried momentarily that he’d break something, Lohen’s hand reached up, his fingers curling through the gaps of yours.
As your tears flowed down your face, you sobbed like nothing you had ever heard. Your hare was back, he was lavishing you with all the pent up frustrations built over half a decade, and he was giving you exactly what you needed—to be bred, bred, bred.
“Mmgh,” Lohen groaned, his hot mouth releasing the flesh of your ear. “Bunny, I’m gonna cum.”
“Please do, please do, please—.”
The guttural sound he made broke you out of your desperate plea. With a resounding smack! he slammed his hips into yours, making your legs squirm, colors flash over your irises. You felt as though Lohen was lighting a fire within you, and as it blazed, you weren’t certain you’d make it out alive.
“Bun, you…” Lohen let out a shaky whimper. “You gonna cum for me?”
“Lohen,” you sobbed, nodding like it was all you knew. “I will, I promise, I will—.”
Abruptly, he rutted into you again. Taken aback, you strangled the pillow beneath you and let out a loud whine. He did it again, and when you still didn’t cum, he did it one more time. Lohen’s dick was already pulsating within you, spewing his seed into your womb with all the force he could muster, and as he fucked it further into you, he moaned, “You’ve gotta cum for me, Bun.”
You choked on your own sob. Your hips flung back, fighting against the weight of him on top of you, and when he pressed his hand to the back of your neck, you writhed.
Your voice was disjointed. Your head was fuzzy. As it ejected from the depths of your core, wet and sloshing, all you could see in your mind’s eye was him.
He let you struggle and snarl, let you sound like a feral animal as you came with his cock buried inside you. It was vile and unladylike, but Lohen didn’t complain once. You were acting like a wild animal, which was exactly how you knew he preferred you. Tear down those white walls and silver chains imposed upon you since birth—show everyone around you who the real predator was.
“I’m,” you gasped, your voice half-whining, half-growling, “sorry.”
“Nah,” Lohen whispered, his hand stroking down your spine. “Don’t be. You’re perfect like this, Bun.”
“Okay,” you choked out. “If you think so.”
“I know so. Let it out, pretty girl.”
“Fuck,” you whimpered, your eyes rolling back into your skull. “Lohen, I want to have your babies.”
He didn’t relinquish his pressure on you. You writhed harder, trying your best to fuck yourself on his softening length. Hot whines mixed with your feral snarls, and as the bunny ears on your head twitched, Lohen gave you a loving nibble.
“I missed you so much,” you groaned. “If you think you can…just cum in me once…you must not want this as bad as I do.”
Immediately, his cock sprung to life again. He let out a sexy laugh, squeezing your hand so hard, you thought he might be on the brink of flying away from you. The way he nuzzled against your ear, letting out a soft hare chuff all the while, made your cunt throb and squeeze.
“You challenging me, Bun?” he crooned. “Wanna see which one of us taps out first?”
“Until I’m pregnant,” you slurred, drowning in the heat of your body, the heat of his. “I’m not tapping out until I’m pregnant.”
“Sounds like something a good fucking girl would say.”
As his hips rocked back into yours, as he pushed you back into the mattress and plowed away at you all over again, you melted into him, hungry for the night you knew might not ever end.
a/n: i kinda forgot i haven't updated hybrid au in a minute LOL! this has been sitting in my drafts for a while so i hope you enjoyed xD
anyway, if you liked what you read, please consider leaving a me a heart! (˶>⩊<˶) ♡ reblogs and comments appreciated!
icymi! chai's last lohen post:
my lady, lohen suggestive oneshot (300+ notes)
masterlist
⊹ ˖ fellow authors, i do not mind if you are inspired by my works to write something similar, but please credit me if you are. these concepts mean a lot to me, so i would really like to be credited for any of my personal ideas that inspire you. thank you!
synopsis. varka doesn't like sticking his nose in his knights’ love lives. really, as long as everyone can do their jobs and have a little fun while they're at it, he's happy to live in blissful innocence. as conversations between you and lohen occur, though, he finds himself constantly in the middle of the worst situationship he's seen in his life.
—✧ content. reader and lohen have similar personalities! heavily based on that one episode from brooklyn nine-nine so def crack + fluff! told by varka's pov and he lowkey goes insane, lohen becomes captain of the 5th company and breaks into varka's house but no other content warnings loll
—✧ notes. 3k words, hi surprise i can write fun and light stuff too !! happy getting my account back day !! art creds: @/caf_sn on twt!
Varka doesn't make a big habit of visiting his Companies often. Well — to be clear, he does his best not to visit the Fifth Company as much as he can without completely shirking his duty to Jean.
He is still a Grandmaster, though, and (to much of his dismay) still has Grandmaster-y duties to attend to. So (much to his dismay), Varka stares ahead as the double steel doors to Lohen’s office building thud behind him, sealing his fate.
It's always more peaceful than he expects here, with knights chatting languidly with eachother, the sun streaming through the open roof. Varka's a man on a mission, though, so he takes the darker hallway to the right, his keen eyes searching around for his targets.
And there, he sees you — the Vice Captain of the Fifth Company — walking up to your captain, who's standing against the wall, looking out the glass-paned window with a stormy expression on his face.
“Lohen.”
The man glances up nonchalantly, and his red eyes sparkle with mirth.
“Hey.”
For such a simple word, the edge of his tone feels dark.
Your weight shifts from one foot to another. “What's up?”
“What's up with you?”
You brisquely lift some papers in your hand. “I need you to sign this report.”
Lohen smiles. “Okay!”
Grabbing a quill from the windowsill in one hand, he moves to grab the loose sheets from you with the other.
His smile only grows as your grip tightens, and Varka can only watch with tired eyes as the two of you engage in a tug-of-war with the sheets, halfway to ripping them in half by your combined strength.
You release the papers with gritted teeth, your eyes staying on the rubies that dot his irises.
Lohen presses the papers against your breastplate, a smirk playing on his lips as he signs his name right at the line, spaced right underneath your heart. A grunt escapes your lips as he finishes off with a little bit more force than necessary, practically jabbing the quill into the metal of your armor.
“What the hell…?” Varka mutters under his breath.
“Careful,” your tone sounds clipped, “The ink's still wet.”
He lifts the papers from your chest, a small distance from your face, and his lips part, pushing a stream of air out to blow onto the area where his name was signed.
The expression on your face is so intense that any ordinary person would run away. Lohen isn't regular, though, and once again, Varka can only stare as you lean in to follow your captain's lead, and the two of you blow air on the definitely already-dry ink.
Varka's eye twitches.
“Okay, they seriously have to knock that off.”
“Loosen up, Grandmaster!” A smooth voice comes up from behind him. “It's the summer of love, y’know?”
The 9th Captain of the Cavalry Company is right. It is summer — birds are supposed to be chirping, the wind is supposed to be singing, but around both of you, the silence is enough to kill a man. Painfully uncomfortable is the only way to describe the energy when both of you are in the room, to the point where he doesn't know if you want to rip off eachother's clothes or necks, and he's supposed to get your signatures on a new petition today?
“Kaeya,” Varka commands him with as even a tone as he can muster, “Go ahead and separate them unless you want to get demoted.”
“Yes, Grandmaster!”
The next time Varka is forced to be in both of your company is at the annual Windblume Festival.
It's the first festival since you and Lohen have been promoted after your heroics elsewhere, after Lohen grew into someone who could inherit Adorno's position and you got transferred from the 3rd Company to the 5th because of your disagreements with your colleagues — Varka himself has gone through a lot this year as well, so he's happy to indulge in the simple pleasures for today.
The Windblume Festival is supposed to be fun, and Dawn Winery is supposed to be his one place of refuge from the stress his job brings him.
And yet, Varka feels a headache pull between his eyes.
“You're writing the training regimen?”
“Yeah.”
You and Lohen are in a staring match right in the center of the bar, your arms crossed as you stand above him.
That intensity looms in the air again, tension so thick Barbatos himself couldn't blow it away.
“That looks way too difficult. You'll kill them by noon.”
“That's the point.”
Varka walks right between you, brushing past your shoulders to reach the barstool where a bartender waits for him.
“I'll have an ale, please!” He orders without a care in the world, “The largest size you have!”
“Well,” Lohen grunts, standing up, Varka’s words serving as his cue to leave, “I'm off to find more paper—”
He stops in front of you, nudging your chin up with the edge of his pointer finger.
“Please prepare your unit,” he coos, “We wouldn't want any more bruising than necessary. Though if you need more intense training, let me know.”
With that, he taps you on the shoulder, then languidly walks out the door, leaving you frozen there.
Varka's known both you and Lohen for a while now — you more than the latter, since you were a child. He knows your heart has been closed off for your entire life, that you and Lohen are cut from a similar cloth, and neither of you have let yourself rest since you joined.
Would entering a relationship with each other ease such a burden?
Against his better judgment, Varka wants to talk to you — wants you to show him the emotion he knows you keep bottled up inside, wants you to let him be your safe space. So against his better judgment, he turns around.
“… All right,” He groans, “That's it. What is going on with you two?”
You blink, as if some spell has been broken.
“A—ah,” you turn your attention to him, bowing slightly, “You noticed it?”
Well. Now he's a little irked again.
“Yeah, I noticed it! Everyone's noticed it!” He gapes, horrified at how dense you could be, “A convicted pervert confessed so he wouldn't have to see you two again! You weren't even interrogating him!”
“Oh…” An unknowing pout forms on your lips, “Something's wrong with him.”
“What isn't—?”
“I'm attracted to him.” You cut him off sharply, “I don't know what to tell you — there's something between us, Grandmaster. Something dark and urgent.”
… Right.
Maybe he should just let you deal with the Captain yourself.
The breaking point comes on a random day, a few weeks later, during the small lulls when Mondstadt is entirely peaceful, and the only thing the Knights of Favonius have to worry about is finding some noble's lost dog.
At first, Varka's really excited. The sun is shining, the wind carrying the scent of sweet fruit and the noble spoils of peace and freedom, and for the first time in a while, life feels peaceful. That is, until he reads his assignment.
It's there that he learns that once Jean makes a decision, she's firm about it. It's also when he decides that the summer wind carries nothing but empty promises of laughter, and that he really should do his job and organize all future assignments for the time being to avoid torturing another poor knight.
So despite his whines and complaints, Varka finds himself in front of a wooden post with you and Lohen on the other side of the street, hanging up signs for some lost puppy that he currently couldn't care less about.
The energy is weirder today — more than usual, anyways. There's something confident in the air, an exasperation at playing the long game for months on end. His head tilts towards the two of you from his sign, only to immediately grimace at the sight.
Lohen's positioned himself against you far too close to be casual, with his chest to your back and his chin hovering over your shoulder.
Varka can only watch in abject horror as Lohen's hand grips yours, driving the hammer into the nail on the pole, uncomfortably slowly, deliberately and methodically. One swing, then the next, all without his eyes leaving yours. When he’s finished, he lets your hand fall, his hand snaking gently on your wrist.
“I could've done that.” You turn your head, gaze dropping to his lips before returning to his eyes.
“Yeah, I know.” He hums, “You could've, but you didn’t. I did.”
“There are a lot of poles here, guys!” Varka coughs loudly, “A whole street full of them!”
“So, Lohen,” you turn around fully, your nose inches away from him, “When are we gonna stop messing around and really do this thing?”
Varka's ears perk up.
He's happy someone is finally breaking the ice after what feels like endless torture — he didn't expect it to be you over Lohen, nor did he think he would be here for it, but regardless, he's just happy it's getting over with. His head tilts, eyes flitting to his younger subordinate, curious to see what his response will be, and—
Oh?
Lohen looks uncharacteristically flustered, with red flushes on his cheeks, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.
“Um, uh…” Lohen stammers, taking a step back, “N-never?”
“Excuse me?”
“You know what? I just realized.” He strains a smile, pointing randomly in the opposite direction, “I forgot something at home. I'm just gonna—”
He doesn't even bother finishing his sentence — his body turns around instead, and he books it away from the two of you like a rabbit from a pack of wolves, leaving you staring at the empty cobblestone path in shock.
Of all the things that could've happened, Varka didn't expect that.
“… Well, that was weird.” He scratches the back of his head awkwardly, his eyes flitting to your frame. “You okay?”
Your lips clamp shut, and your eyes harden.
“Yeah.”
In a second, you slip a knife out from your pocket, baring your teeth as you stab the wooden pole repeatedly. Your senior pats your shoulder as you take out your anger on the poor wood, tearing holes and turning it into wood chips.
“There, there, it’ll be okay,” He soothes, doing his best to ignore the marred picture of the puppy. He is your Grandmaster, after all; it's his job to look after you, take care of your emotions so you can be the best knight you can be.
... Surely, the papers on an assault on an innocent pole won't be too bad if it's public property, right?
The good news is that the dog was eventually found, safe and sound, not even outside the city walls.
It's been a successful day despite Lohen's stunt, and Mondstadt's sweltering sun has lowered from the sky to he replaced with the cratered moon — in lieu of it all, Varka is exhausted when he gets home.
All he really wants to do is take a bath and rest, so he stumbles past his front door, stripping off his outermost layers as quickly as possible and flicking on his bathroom lantern light and—
“Hey, Grandmaster!”
“What the fuck—?!” Varka jumps back, losing his balance as his shoulder collides with the edge of his door, slamming it shut.
“I've been waiting for you.”
Lohen stands innocently in the middle of his bathroom, footsteps creaking against the wood as he turns to him. The boy’s like a guiltless rabbit, blinking rapidly to adjust to the light entering his eyes, his nose twitching.
Varka has to catch his breath.
“In here?” He hisses, steadying his feet, sliding back up to lean properly at the doorframe.
“Yeah, I wanted to have a private conversation …” Lohen has the audacity to look a little sheepish, “Thought your bedroom might've been a little too personal.”
Hah. Touché.
“Anyways,” The boy continues on, “Remember what happened a few hours ago? Do you think they noticed that I freaked out a little when they asked to court me?”
“You mean the way your eyes popped out of your head, and you sprinted away like we were the Fatui?” Varka can't help the sarcastic tone coming through his voice, “Yeah, I think they noticed.”
Lohen clicks his tongue*. “Dammit.”*
Did he genuinely think he got away with it? Does Varka need to revoke his Captain status?
“I've just got a lot on my plate right now, emotionally speaking.” Lohen sighs, “Flirting is one thing, but a relationship? That's something else entirely.”
…
If there's one thing Varka knows about being a knight, it's the troubles of pursuing a relationship that comes with it. Both you and Lohen are young — younger than he is anyways, so he has no doubt that the pressure weighs on you even more.
“Look,” he sighs, “Coming back to all this can't be easy for anyone. I'm sure they understand.”
Despite how emotionless you may act on the outside, Varka knows that deep down (and even further past that), you can get in touch with your feelings if you try.
Lohen eyes the painting on the wall next to him, grappling with something unknown to the Grandmaster. “After what I've seen,” he says eventually, “After what I've done, I don't know if I deserve to be happy.”
Ah.
And that's the crux of this whole thing, isn't it?
Despite the few years it's been since Adorno passed, it must still weigh heavily on Lohen's mind. He's just been made Captain, too — an honor that Adorno was supposed to be there for, so Varka can't even imagine how sensitive his subordinate must be right now.
He puts a hand on Lohen's shoulder to comfort him. “Of course you do.”
The boy blinks.
“Huh, I never looked at it that way.” His tone shifts from surprise to vigor, and a chuckle escapes his lips. “Wow, this changes everything! Hah!”
Huh?
“I didn't even finish my point—”
“No, Grandmaster, you said it all.” Lohen pats Varka's shoulder, “You just changed my life.”
Knowing that whatever happens next will bear his name, Varka can barely smile.
The last few days have been irritating, to say the least.
Not only would your captain literally rather run away than even think about entering a relationship with you, it turns out you can't just stab the shit out of public property and get away with it.
So you've spent hours in Varka's office today just going over the gritty details of the paperwork you have to do to get away with the least amount of punishment possible — he gives you more community service than you'd like, but at least you're not getting a suspension, so you'll take any win you can get.
“Hey!”
Immediately, you feel your mood sour more than it already was.
Lohen jogs up to you, from where you have no idea, but all you really want to do is kick him. Varka comes out of his office behind you, hand on the doorknob, just about to close the door before he notices red eyes flitting toward him — he freezes in place, eyes owlishly blinking.
“Could we talk?”
Lohen sounds slightly out of breath, as if he'd run here from somewhere. Now that you think about it, isn't he supposed to be scouting in Wolvendom?
“Listen, Grandmaster gave me some really great advice.” Lohen breathes out, as if to steel his nerves, “So, will you marry me?”
“What?!”
An overlap of your and Varka's voices choruses in shock, the latter’s jaw dropping in horror.
“This is what you told me to do!” Lohen swivels his head, an almost pout forming on his lips as he looks at his commander.
“I barely said anything!” Varka can basically feel his hair turning gray by the second, “You cut me off way too early!”
You groan, massaging your forehead to clear the headache that's been forming since the morning. If you’re getting this right, Lohen does have feelings for you, and isn't just being an asshole to be an asshole? And Varka’s been messing up everything this entire time?
“Grandmaster, stay out of this.”
“Gladly!” Varka throws up his hands in defeat.
Stepping forward, you take Lohen’s hands in yours. He flinches at your warmth, red already crawling at the tip of his ears, blooming at his cheeks.
He's so cute.
“No, I will not marry you.” You grip his hands tighter, “How about we get a drink first?”
Lohen dislikes drinking — wholeheartedly and completely — and yet, the notion of drinking with you makes his heart skip a beat, chest stirring with need.
(Maybe he just wants to see you flushed, he thinks.
Warm cheeks and warmer hands on his neck, thumb pushing past his lips, doe eyes waiting for him to devour you.)
“Yeah,” he breathes out, “Yeah, that sounds nice.”
(Red eyes refusing to look at you, half-lidded in timidity. All you want to do is kiss him.)
“Aww, you guys are actually kind of sweet—”
Varka's compliment is cut off with your head practically slamming into Lohen's — months of tension releasing as your lips meet his, hands gripping at his neck, his back hitting the wall with a sharp thud. The two of you go at it like wild animals right outside his office, and for the first time in Varka's life, he feels a strange sense of apathy.
“… Nevermind.”
ik i said i can write lighthearted stuff but I rlly want to go back to writing emotional shit LOL
Thank you so so much for the tag my love <33 tbh it took me many attempts to post this bc my Tumblr is not allowing moodboards I think :,) so I had to work around it. Also!!! I looked up "my color" on pintrest and got red, thus my vibe is going to be red today :3
# nsfw. fem!reader, some can be read gender neutral. sensation play. fear play. impact play. wax play. temperature play (vision and potions). spanking. hyper sensitivity. edging. blindfolds. restrictions. throat fucking. swallowing cum. sub!reader. endearnments. profanities. i do not know what possessed me to write this.
⋮ ⌗ ┆ LOHEN.
You’re kneeling on the floor of his room, the fabric over your eyes blocks everything—black and absolute. You hadn’t expected it to feel like this, the loss of sight amplifying every sound, every shift of air. Lohen’s thigh brushes your cheek as he moves, and you flinch before you can stop yourself.
“Nervous?” His voice comes from above, slightly to the left. You can’t track him anymore. The disorientation makes your heart hammer against your ribs.
“A little,” you admit, and your own voice sounds strange in the dark—thinner, more vulnerable.
You feel his fingers under your chin, tilting your face up. “Good.” There’s a pause in the air. Then, closer to your ear, breath hot: “Open your mouth.”
You do, and the wait stretches—agonizing, electric. You don’t know where he is, what he’s doing, when he’ll—His cock presses against your lips, sudden and demanding. You gasp, and he uses that moment to push inside, filling your mouth before you’re ready. Your hands fly up instinctively, finding his hips, trying to anchor yourself in the blindness.
“Hands behind your back,” he orders, voice tight with that adrenaline edge. When you hesitate, he thrusts deeper, making you choke slightly. “Now.” You obey, lacing your fingers together against your lower back. The vulnerability spikes through you—blind, bound by your own grip, completely at his mercy. He notices. It shouldn’t surprise you that he always notices everything.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he groans, and you feel the vibration of his thighs against your shoulders as he starts to roll his hips. “You can’t see what I’m doing. You don’t know when I’ll—” He thrusts hard, sudden, cutting off his own words with a sharp inhale. You whimper around his length, the sound muffled, and he laughs—breathless, unhinged.
“Scared?” he asks, but he’s already answering for you, rocking his hips in a rhythm you can’t predict. “You’re shaking. I can feel it.”
You pull back enough to gasp, “Lohen—”
“Quiet.” He pushes back in, deeper this time, hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes water behind the blindfold, tears soaking into the fabric. “Just take it. Take whatever I give you.”
The darkness makes every sensation razor-sharp—the stretch of your jaw, the salt taste spreading across your tongue, the way his fingers suddenly grip your hair hard and pull you exactly where he wants. You can’t brace for it. Can’t prepare. When he hits a particularly sensitive spot and shudders, you feel it in the tremor of his legs, the catch in his breath, before you even register the movement.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he observes, voice strained. One of his hands leaves your hair—you didn’t notice until the absence—and suddenly his thumb is pressing against your lower lip, stretched tight around him, glossed with spit and arousal. “From this. From not knowing.” You moan—can’t help it—and the vibration makes him curse, hips stuttering. “Say it,” he demands, pulling back slightly, giving you just enough air to speak, your chin damp with your own saliva. “Say you want me to keep going.”
“I want—” Your voice cracks. You swallow, trying to ground yourself in the dark. “I want you to keep going. Please.”
“Please,” he repeats, mocking, but there’s something wrecked in his tone too. “Since you asked so nicely—”
Lohen surges forward, and you weren’t ready, weren’t ready—your hands clench behind your back, knuckles white, as he uses your mouth with abandon. The sounds he makes are animal, torn loose, echoing in the dark space around you. Frost crackles somewhere nearby—you can hear it, feel the sudden drop in temperature—but you can’t see where, can’t see anything.
“F-Fuck—I’m gonna come,” he warns, but it’s barely a warning at all, happening almost immediately after. His grip becomes brutal, holding you in place as he spills down your throat, shouting something wordless and raw. You swallow convulsively, gasping when he finally pulls free, still blind, still lost, your whole body thrumming with the aftershock of surrender.
His thumb traces your swollen lips again, gentle now, almost reverent. “Still scared?” Lohen asks softly.
You shake your head, breathless. “No.”
“Liar.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “Good. Keep the blindfold on. We’re not done.”
⋮ ⌗ ┆ SCARAMOUCHE.
The wax drips from his fingers first—melted down just enough to burn without blistering. He’s been watching you for ten minutes, silent, cataloging every shift of your weight, every time your eyes dart to the candle and away.
“Afraid?” he asks, and the word sounds like an insult.
You don’t answer. You know better. You just lay on his bed, completely naked and at his mercy.
“Your hands are shaking.” He notes it clinically, like he’s observing mold growing on spoiled fruit. “Pathetic.”
The first drop hits your sternum—hot, shocking, spreading like a brand. You gasp, arching slightly, and his free hand comes down hard on your shoulder, pinning you flat against the mattress. “Don’t move.” His voice is flat, bored. “Unless you want it somewhere worse.”
Another drop, higher this time, tracing a path toward your throat. He watches your face with detached fascination, like he’s studying an insect under glass. When you whimper, his lips curl—not quite a smile, something sharper. “You’re making that noise again,” he observes, tilting his head. “The one you think is subtle. It’s not.”
“Scara—”
“Don’t.” The word cuts clean. He leans closer, the candle’s flame casting wild shadows across his features. “Don’t say my name like that. Like you know me. Like you have any claim.”
The wax falls again—your inner thigh, dangerously close. The heat makes you jerk, and his grip on your shoulder tightens, fingers digging into bone. “I said don’t move.” He sounds almost tired. “Are you always this disobedient, or is it special for me?”
You try to hold still as the next drops come—irregular, unpredictable. He varies the height, the angle, making it impossible to brace. Some barely warm, others searing. Your skin flares red where it lands, cooling into rigid patterns he could trace if he wanted. He doesn’t. “You’re crying,” he states, as if remarking on the weather. “How dramatic.”
“They’re not—” You start, then stop when his eyes narrow.
“Not what? Not tears?” He drips wax directly onto your nipple, and you cry out, the sound breaking in your throat. “They look like tears to me. But then, you’d know better, wouldn’t you? You’re the one lying here, taking it, needing it.”
His thumb swipes roughly across your cheek, smearing the wetness there. He looks at it on his skin with something like disgust. “Don’t mistake this for care,” he says quietly, deadly. “I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this because I enjoy watching you unravel. Because you look ruined like this.”
He shifts the candle, and you see his intention—lower, centered. You tense, your spread legs flinching to almost close them, and he notices immediately.
“Ah.” That almost-smile again. “There it is. The fear.” He holds the wax suspended, letting you anticipate, letting you squirm. “You think I’ll stop if you ask nicely? You think I’m kind ?”
Scaramouche doesn’t wait for an answer. The wax falls, and you scream—he’s planned this, aimed for the most sensitive skin above your puffy clit, the place that makes your vision white out at the edges. Your body bucks upward involuntarily, and he lets you this time, watching with those empty indigo eyes as you shudder through the aftershock.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, and the word sounds like mockery because it is. “Look at you. Covered in me. Marked in me.”
He sets the candle aside—not out of mercy, you know, but because he’s finished with that part of the game. His fingers trace the cooled wax on your skin, picking at the edges, peeling it away in strips that pull at your flesh and make you gasp. “Sensitive,” he observes, flicking the hardened wax off your nipple. You flinch, and he catches your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Still here? Good. I was starting to think you’d float away on me.”
“Why—” Your voice cracks, so you try again. “Why are you doing this?”
His expression shutters—there and gone, faster than you can track. He releases your jaw like touching you has become suddenly distasteful. “Don’t,” he says, and for the first time there’s something raw beneath the armor, something he hates you for hearing. He leans down, closer until his lips brush the shell of your ear. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want answered. Don’t pretend this is something it’s not.”
He stands, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from his clothes, rebuilding the wall brick by brick. “Clean yourself up,” he says, turning away. “You’re disgusting.”
But he pauses at the door, hand on the frame, and doesn’t leave. Not yet.
⋮ ⌗ ┆ ALBEDO.
The leather is soft against your wrists—Albedo’s own design, you realize, something he whipped up in his workshop when the idea first took hold. He buckles them with the same care he uses for delicate glassware, checking the fit, the give, the way your pulse flutters beneath his thumb.
“Too tight?” he asks, and his voice carries that particular cadence—gentle, but laced with something else. Curiosity, maybe. The same tone he uses when examining a new mineral formation.
You test the restraints, your bare knees digging into the cold floor of his lab in Dragonspine, the ache only adding to the pleasure. “No.”
“Good.” He doesn’t step back. Albedo rarely wastes movement. Instead, he reaches for a small vial on the table beside you—clear liquid, unlabeled. “I want you to tell me when the sensation changes. Not what it is. Just when.”
He uncorks it, and the smell hits you immediately—herbal, sharp, something that makes your skin prickle in anticipation. He dips two fingers in, watching the liquid coat his skin with the fascination of a man observing chemical reaction.
“Albedo—”
“Patience,” he murmurs, not unkindly. He traces a line from your collarbone to your navel, and the liquid—whatever it is—starts warm, almost pleasant, before shifting, tingling, spreading like slow fire.
You gasp, arching against the restraints. They hold you firm, engineered to his exact specifications.
“There,” he says, noting something in a small notebook he produces from seemingly nowhere. “The transition point.”
“You’re taking notes?”
“Observation is meaningless without record.” He sets the book aside and picks up another vial—this one amber, thicker. “Unless you’d prefer I rely on memory? I assure you, my memory is excellent. But I find the act of documentation... focusing.”
He warms the amber liquid between his palms, watching you watch him. There’s that dry humor in his eyes, the mischief buried under layers of courtesy.
“You’re staring,” he observes.
“You’re studying me like a specimen.”
“Not like.” He drips the amber liquid onto your inner thigh, and it feels entirely different—cool, then suddenly, shockingly cold, like ice that burns. You cry out, pulling against the restraints, and they creak but don’t yield. “Exactly. You are my specimen. My subject. My current fascination.”
The cold spreads, numbing and awakening simultaneously, and he watches your face with that hyper-focused intensity—the same look he gets when he’s three days deep into a new theory, forgetting meals, forgetting sleep, forgetting everything but the puzzle in front of him.
“Interesting,” he breathes, leaning closer. His hair brushes your shoulder, golden and soft, his breath warm on your skin. “Your pupils dilated. Respiration increased. But you didn’t ask me to stop.”
“Albedo—”
“Don’t,” he interrupts, still gentle, still courteous. “Don’t ask for release yet. I’ve only just begun to understand the pattern.”
He reaches for a third vial—red, viscous—and your stomach tightens with excitement. He notices, of course. He notices everything.
“Fear?” he asks, tilting his head. “Or anticipation? Both produce similar physiological responses. The line between them is... porous.”
He doesn’t wait for an answer. The red liquid hits your skin—a drop on your sternum, another on your hip—and it aches, a deep, throbbing heat that seems to sink into muscle, into bone. You whimper, thrashing uselessly against the restraints, and he places one hand flat on your stomach, holding you still with terrifying, effortless strength.
“Easy,” he murmurs, and his thumb traces a circle on your skin, grounding you even as the sensation builds. “Breathe through it. The peak lasts approximately forty seconds. I timed it earlier.”
“You—” You gasp, the heat cresting, overwhelming, the restraints rough on your feverish skin. “You tested this?”
“On myself, of course.” He says it simply, as if it’s obvious. “I wouldn’t subject you to anything I hadn’t experienced. That would be..." He searches for the word, that pragmatic mind sorting through options. “Rude.”
The heat begins to fade, leaving behind a strange, electric sensitivity. Your skin feels raw, awake, every nerve ending exposed. When he runs a single finger down your side, you jolt so hard the restraints sing. “Ah.” That small, dry smile. “Heightened receptivity. The compounds interact synergistically.” He picks up his notebook again, scribbling something. “I suspected they would.”
“You’re going to leave me like this,” you realize suddenly, understanding clicking into place. “Once you figure it out. Once the mystery’s solved.”
He pauses, pen hovering over paper. For a moment, something flickers—genuine emotion, quickly suppressed.
“No,” he says, and his voice is softer now, the courtesy becoming something else. Something almost tender beneath the pragmatism. “Not this time.”
He sets the notebook down and moves between your bound arms, close enough that you can feel the heat of him, the steady rhythm of his breath against your lips. His fingers trace the edge of the leather restraint, then slide down to intertwine with yours—intimate, deliberate.
“This particular mystery,” Albedo says, leaning close enough that his words brush your ear, “seems to deepen the more I explore it. Novelty, instead of fading, appears to be... compounding.”
He kisses the corner of your jaw, chaste and devastating. “So I suppose you’re stuck with me. For now.”
“For now,” you repeat, and it sounds like hope.
“Don’t get sentimental,” he warns, but he’s already reaching for another vial, eyes bright with that relentless, beautiful curiosity. “It doesn’t suit either of us. Now—tell me what this one feels like. I’m hypothesizing something entirely new.”
⋮ ⌗ ┆ VARKA.
The couch groans under his weight when he sits—Varka never just lowers himself anywhere, he settles, claiming space like he was born to fill it. He’s been watching you all evening, you realize, through that lazy half-lidded gaze that misses nothing despite appearances.
“Come here, babe,” he calls, patting his thigh with a grin that crinkles the corners of his eyes.
You approach, hesitant despite the warmth in his voice, and he catches your hand before you can overthink it. His palm engulfs yours—battle-scarred, enormous, capable of wielding a claymore one-handed and yet gentle now as he guides you. “Nervous?” he asks, and the word rumbles in his chest like distant thunder.
“A little,” you admit.
“Good.” He tugs you down across his lap, arranging you with the casual efficiency of a man who knows his own strength intimately and trusts it absolutely. “Means you’re paying attention.”
Your cheek presses against the couch cushion, his thigh solid and warm beneath your stomach. One of his arms drapes across your lower back—heavy, anchoring, possessive in the most affectionate way. You feel small like this, delicate, and he hums approvingly as if hearing the thought.
“You’re thinking too loud,” he observes, and his free hand traces the curve of your ass through your clothes, unhurried, almost absent-minded. “Always plotting, always planning. Even now.” He leans down, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I can hear the wheels turning from here, sweetheart.”
“That’s not—” you start, but the first swat cuts you off. It’s not hard—not yet—but the sound cracks loud in the quiet room, and the sting blooms warm across your skin. You gasp, fingers curling into the couch cushion.
“There’s one,” he says, almost conversationally. His hand returns to rub the spot, spreading the heat, and you squirm involuntarily. “You carry the weight of the world in your shoulders, you know. Saw it the moment I walked through the door. You were tense and tight. Like you’re waiting for the next emergency.”
Another swat, harder this time, opposite cheek. You yelp, and he laughs—that full, booming sound that fills whatever space he’s in.
“Better,” he praises. “Let it out. No knights to command here, no crises to manage. Just you and me and the sound of my hand teaching you how to relax.”
“You’re enjoying this,” you accuse, voice muffled against the cushion.
“Absolutely,” he agrees, no shame in it. He spanks you again, a rhythm developing—left, right, center, unpredictable enough to keep you guessing. The heat builds layer by layer, your skin sensitizing, every nerve ending awake and waiting. His hand pauses, resting heavy and warm against your burning skin. You whimper at the absence, and he makes a soft, knowing sound.
“You see right through me, don’t you?” he murmurs, and you know he’s not talking about himself. His thumb traces a slow circle where you’re hot and soaking the fabric of your panties, and you arch into the touch despite yourself. “Let me use your body to quiet your mind. It’s effective. I should know—I’ve used similar techniques on myself. Usually involves climbing something tall and dangerous.”
“You’re comparing spanking me to—ah!”
He lands two in quick succession, sharp and stinging, and you feel the vibration of his laughter through his chest. “To mountaineering? Perhaps.” Varka resumes the rhythm, slower now, each impact deliberate, measured, allowing the sensation to fully land before the next arrives. “Both require trust. Both leave you breathless. Both remind you that you’re alive, flesh and blood and nerve endings, not just a mind carrying responsibilities.”
The heat has spread now, a deep, throbbing warmth that seems to sink into your bones. When he stops to rub your swollen clit again, you moan—can’t help it—and he makes that soft, pleased sound once more.
“There’s my girl,” he says, almost tender. “Gone quiet. Present. Finally stopped planning the next three moves.” His hand lifts, and you tense, waiting, the anticipation stretching taut as a bowstring. He makes you wait, counts to five in a whisper you can barely hear. Then—
The hardest yet, a solid, resounding crack that sends fire radiating through you. You cry out, body jerking, toes curling, and his arm tightens across your back, holding you steady, holding you safe.
“Shh,” he soothes, even as he lands another, and another, building a crescendo you can’t escape, can’t predict, can only feel. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, my love. Let go.”
You do. Somewhere in the haze of heat and sting and his overwhelming presence, you let go. The planning, the worrying, the constant vigilance—it burns away under his hand, reduced to nothing but sensation, submission, and trust.
When he finally stops, your ass is throbbing, tender, and you’re limp across his lap, breathing hard, eyes wet. He gathers you up effortlessly—he makes everything look effortless—and settles you against his chest, enveloping you in arms that could crush stone but choose, instead, to cradle.
“Better?” Varka asks, chin resting on top of your head.
You nod, face buried in his shirt, smelling leather and Mondstadt wind and something uniquely him.
“Good.” He presses a kiss to your hairline, and you feel the smile in it. “Now, I was thinking we could skip dinner and go straight to dessert. Or”—his hand drifts down to cup your heated, sensitive skin between your thighs, making you gasp—“we could stay right here, and I could see what other sounds I can coax out of you. What do you say, sweetheart? Any plans?”
You shake your head, smiling against his chest despite yourself. “No plans.”
“Excellent.” He stands, lifting you with him as if you weigh nothing, and heads toward the bedroom with that familiar, bounding energy. “That’s my favorite answer.”
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"原神 ✶ SYNOPSIS," ◦ ₊ㅤ ﹙ the nod krai men find out their girlfriend is a virgin, obviously not for long. ૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა artist credits: here reblog / like 2 support ⃘໋ׅ♡ 𝑤.𝑐: 3.7k ⁀ ˳ ⟡ masterlist <3
ꗃ .. FEATURING ꒰ flins, varka, dottore, lohen ꒱
♡⏝ ⸝⸝ 𝓦ARNINGS ˖ ❝ nsfw fem!reader smut squirting p i v sex spitting gentle sex you do the hair pulling fae's have biiiig dicks cunnilingus they go raw oral sex (f receive) fingering nip play tummy bulges overstimulation teasing drooling gentle giant varka getting pinned down varka is gigantic medicinal play / consensual drugging dottore treats sex like some experiment pussy slapping lohen is mean orgasm denial ❞
── #⃝ MINA'S NOTES ( 💬 ) plz send thirsts fill up my inbox like how flins fills my puthy up, also header inspired by cumironi mwah divider credits
ɞ⠀.⠀FLINS ﹗ ໒꒱۪
Flins was a gentleman, of course he was. He needed to be one anyways, he didn't need you squirming and sobbing and pushing him away if he went too rough with his size. You were a human after all.
"E-eeh.. s-slowly.." you whimpered, naked and nervously sweating underneath him, hands braced on his chest while he was gently spreading your legs open.
"I'll be as gentle as I can be, darling," he whispered softly, leaning over and pecking your cheek, before moving his lips over to your forehead, and finally your lips. His lips were soft, but cold against your warm ones. Your eyes had fluttered to a close, while he was moving his thumbs to rub at your sticky folds and soften you up.
"Niiiice, right?" He hummed, while you were beginning to squirm from the new sensation, his fingers curling up before pushing inside and stretching you out for his cock.
You whimpered and nodded shakily, much to his delight.
His smile got wider, like a Cheshire Cat, before he kissed you again and thrusted his fingers further, going just slightly more rougher to hear you moan and whine against his lips. Your nails beginning to dig and scratch at his shoulders, legs twitching and falling apart.
He pulled back suddenly, leaving you gasping and dazed, taking his fingers out and holding his hand out teasingly. Your essence dripping from his long, elegant fingers.
"Look here, you're already doing so well. So ready for me," he purred before leaning over again and nuzzling into the crook of your neck, kissing to distract you.
"Shhh, just breathe," he whispered.
You gasped and let out a strangled whimper when feeling the thick head of his cock rub against your pussy and begin to push inside. Your hands quickly reach out against his slender arms and scratched your way to his back, breath quickening and hitching.
"N-nghh.. f-flinssss.." you whined for him, while he slowly eased inside, before sighing against your neck and relaxing. "Shhh, I've got you, just relax, I swear it'll all feel better," he peppered your face with slow, soft kisses.
"C-can I pull..?" You mumbled softly, half lidded eyes looking up into his darkened ones. One of your hands were moving up, gently tangling into the long, luscious hair of his.
He didn't hesitate, nodding and smiling down at you sweetly.
Darkened, lustful eyes of his were glued to your tummy, watching the bulge from his thick cock grown and shrink as he thrusted in and out. He loved the feeling of being inside you, and got harder at the look of you squirming beneath him, and twitched inside you at your sweet little whimpers and moans.
As your hand pulled at his hair, his teeth bit into his bottom lip, the bed beginning to creak, the sound of skin slapping on skin filling the room.
His hips pulled back, before slowly easing inside again, and continuing those slow, sensual movements. Thrusting back and forth, just gently enough so that it wouldn't hurt. his eyes flickered up from your neck, watching your expression begin to relax and get comfortable with his slow, steady thrusts.
He pulled back, before sharply thrusting in one last time, making you squeak and whine, pouting up at him confused.
Your pout was met with a chaste kiss, "I'm sorry.. I couldn't resist. I'll go slow from now on, okay?" He pulled his hips back slowly, his thumb finding the little bud of your clit and rubbing it slowly.
"Just cum for me, alright, darling?"
ɞ⠀.⠀VARKA ﹗ ໒꒱۪
Varka was messy, and had no shame about it.
Slobbering and eating you out all messily, face buried in between your thighs, slurping loudly. Very much enjoying his meal. Groaning and moaning, while you were squirming, whining and covering your mouth shyly. You had expected him to be this big macho man and be all rough, to just make you take it.
Yet there he was, happiest when tasting and giving you pleasure, happiest when watching you cum on his face. His tongue eagerly licking up when you squirted out.
"So good, so good," he muttered and licked your pussy a few more times before pulling away with a sigh and wiping his dripping mouth. Your essence still dribbling down his chin and soaked into the bedsheets below, his tired eyes gazing into yours lovingly. "You ready?"
Your shaky nod didn't convince him, as you were still hiccuping and breathing heavily from your last orgasm. "I need a yes or a no, use your words," he said quietly, hand taking a grasp of your chin, gently making you face up at him properly.
"..yes.. yes please. I need you," you nodded and gasped, whining and already reaching out your hands for him.
He smiled happily before quickly covering your body with his much larger, muscular, scarred one. Completely overpowering you but making sure you had enough room to squirm and move, his lips meeting yours lovingly.
Those large hands of his pushed your thighs apart, before hooking your legs over his hips. Keeping you spread wide open beneath him, naked, sweaty, ready for him.
"You'll be okay, alright?" He nodded, noticing your nerves and shaky breathing, kissing your forehead. "It'll be just a small pop of pain, and then a world of pleasure.. just tap my shoulder and I'll slow down, or use the word and I'll pull out, okay?" He nodded, before furrowing his brows when you only nodded.
"Use your words."
"..I'll tap on your shoulder when it hurts and say the safe word when I can't take it anymore," you nodded to him, before sighing and smiling again when he kissed your forehead. "Good girl."
His head buried into the crook of your neck, kissing and finding your sensitive spots. Sucking hickeys and kissing down your jawline, while his hands were moving to spread your folds apart and stroke his thick cock. The base of his blond pubic hair tickles your inner thighs, before you felt it.
The large, demanding pressure began to build inside you when you felt the tip of it slide in. You had expected it to be big, but this big? You were already beginning to plan out your funeral, thighs twitching and squirming.
"Shh, shh, I'll be slow, just relax, I promise," he kissed down your jaw and trailed down the valley on your breasts, suckling a nipple into his mouth. Trying to get you to focus on the pleasure.
His cock was demanding your attention. Your brain couldn't focus on anything else, as much as you squeezed your eyes shut, whined, and squirmed underneath him. Your nails began to rake on his muscular back, adding to the scars with red lines of passion. It was so big, so thick, stretching you to the core
You were already so slick and drooling around him, drooling from both lips, before mumbling, "I-it's big.."
"I'm—… I'm not even halfway in," he muttered, pursing his lips and pausing for just a second before beginning to try and push in as far as he could, in a quick, painless manner. Not even halfway? You were already feeling his cock splitting you in two, what did he mean "not even halfway"?
It felt like something you had never known, finally clicked inside your head when he pushed in the last inch and grinned up at you, popping free of your nipple. "See! Nothing to it," he hummed happily, while you were drooling and cumming around him from just the size. Your tummy having such a lewd bulge from his cock.
"D-does it get any smaller…?" You drooled, whimpering and squeezing so tightly. You were definitely going to be spending majority of the time squirting and squirming on his dick.
“Smaller?” He scoffed and smiled, before kissing your forehead and then the tip of your nose. “Obviously not, silly. It can get bigger though,” he tilted his head to the side, all goofy.
Oh my archons, he was going to split you in two.
ɞ⠀.⠀DOTTORE ﹗ ໒꒱۪
"Oh come on, miss patient, you're not seriously backing out already?" Dottore pouted and mocked you, holding an empty syringe in his hands. The one he had promised would help you enjoy your first time with him infinitely more and not feel an ounce of paint whatsoever.
"Z-zandik—" you whimpered, eyes beginning to haze over, sitting naked on his experimental table. The light flicking above you both in the empty, cold room.
"Uh-uh, not Zandik, it's Doctor now, okay?" He smirked and pinched your cheek.
The air wasn't biting at your skin anymore, the fluids beginning to seep through your veins in what felt like a fiery fever. The blue haired menace's eyes were narrowing, watching your expression change, your eyes glaze over and pussy begin to glisten and seep uncontrollably.
"..doctor 'tore.." you mumbled, looking up at him, and pulling him closer by his shoulders. Eyeing his shirtless body up and down.
He smirked and cupped your cheek again, testing to see how much the medicine had stripped away your shyness and pain. "Tell me, how much do you want me? Where do you want me?" He purred, already moving his hands to the buckle of his pants, stripping eagerly.
You hesitated and thought, before laying back on the table and spewing your legs. "…need you a lotttt.." you mumbled, watching him crawl over you quickly and plant feverish kisses to your neck.
"Need you here.." you mumbled, moving one of your hands down shakily, and using your fingers to spreading your folds apart. Glistening and soaking wet, dripping onto the table below, ready and waiting for his experiment.
He hummed, smirking down at you and glanced down at your pussy, before kissing your forehead. "See? I told you the medicine would work so well with this untouched body of yours… didn't expect this much… fluid production, although," he hummed and was already mentally noting to edit the formula so that it wouldn't harm your body's natural production.
"You're alright to continue, miss patient?" He whispered down at you, before smirking at your confident nod.
"You're so filthy," he scoffed, smirking and spreading your legs wide apart, before slipping his fingers into your depths to test the waters. "They slide in so easily, tsk, you're so wet already," he huffed before brushing your hair out of your face. "Do you want me to move onto the next step in the method of this experiment?"
"P-pleaseeee.. d-doctor 'tore," you moaned, closing your eyes in pleasure as he fingered you, before gasping and pouting when he slid his fingers out again.
"If you're begging that much, you deserve something bigger, something harder," he darkly suggested, before smirking down at your dead face. The next thing you felt in your daze was the thick tip of his cock rubbing over your clit, collecting the slick, before it began to push inside your tight passage.
The feeling was numbing, more than painful. A small whimper escaping your lips, just clenching your fists, waiting for the initial stretch to wash over.
Only to open your eyes, half lidded, when you heard him snort. "Miss patient.. are you sleeping in the middle of my experiment?" He pouted and flicked your forehead.
It took you a second to realise he was teasing you, before you began to whine and argue back with him. "I wasn't sleeping! It just felt so numbing and c-cold—" you were arguing with him, before gasping and moaning, eyes rolling back for a split second.
That bastard had thrusted while you were talking, riling you up just to see you lose it in the middle of a sentence.
"You were saying?"
"Y-you're evil—" you were whining before quickly fading your arguments into needy moans and whimpers, arching your back and holding onto the shaky table as he began to rut into you. Fucking you at that steady pace, hips slapping against your ass. Balls heavy and waiting to spill inside you, to carry out another experiment inside you.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
It filled the room, while you began to drool. His breath finally hitching and adjusting, growing heavy from trying to not bust on the spot while you were squeezing him so tightly.
"Fuck.. you're so right. I should've made that fuckin' erection chewing gum too," he scoffed, eyes narrowing on your breasts.
ɞ⠀.⠀LOHEN ﹗ ໒꒱۪
"Pfft, look at you," lohen smirked, "not even name calling now?" He teased.
You were sitting on his lap. Naked, pouting and slowly rubbing your pussy back on his erect cock. His eyes half lidded, biting his bottom lip, watching you with lustful eyes. His hands resting on your hips, thumbs rubbing back and forth.
"You said you'd help me and be sweetttt!" You whined and grumbled down at him, before smacking his shoulder.
He groaned and pretended to be hurt, before pouting up at you playfully. "I am being sweeeet," he mimicked your whine, before smirking and pinching your hip. "I wanna see you ride me, it'll be fun, and I promise to help you get on," he nodded with a mock-serious expression.
You huffed, unconvinced before lifting your hips and scooting back just an inch, letting out a soft whimper when he grabbed the base of his cock, stroking it and guiding it to the entrance of your tight hole. "That's ittt, just slowly sit down," he mumbled, shifting on the bed slightly and guiding your hips down.
"H-haah.. s-slowlyyy.." you whined, easing your hips down, feeling his hard, thick dick begin to slide inside. The feeling of it twitching made you squirm and look more flustered, while his expression began to change from agonising pleasure to mischievous smirking.
His hands were slowly helping your hips down, as you relied on him to guide you, before he pulled them away quickly, making you squeak and plop down quickly. Gasping and whimpering, impaled on every thick, girthy inch of his cock.
A moan escaped your lips, tears pricking the corner of your eyes from the sudden, intense pleasure and pain mix. The room was filled whining and as you were smacking his shoulders repeatedly, "y-you're horrible! A terrible boyfriend! You pushed me down!"
"I did?" He pouted and played innocent, hands moving to wipe the small dotted tears at the corners of your eyes. "I think I'm a lovely boyfriend," he frowned, before genuinely asking, "you're okay though, right? Tell me if you want to stop, I'll stop, no teasing," he nodded to you.
You sniffled, before nodding and leaning over to nuzzle into the crook of his neck. "I w-wanna keep going.." a small mumble by his neck.
He smiled, turning his head to peck your hair, before thrusting up into you gently. "You're the one who's supposed to be riding me, doll," he huffed and played with your hair, tilting his head to the side to lick the shell of your ear.
The lick made you shiver, before trying to slowly wriggle your hips up and bring them down. "I-I'm tryingggg! Be patient," you huffed.
His teasing smirk began to fade as the bed was quietly creaking, only your soft little moans being the sounds of pleasure in the quiet bedroom. "E-ehh.. nnh.. mmh…" you whimpered softly, learning how to slowly pleasure yourself on his dick. His eyes half lidded, viewing you with a cold, cynical look, before smiling again and thrusting up quickly into your soft, wet pussy.
"L-lohennnn.. this is too much work," you huffed, giving up and laying limp on top of him.
He hummed, before kissing the top of your head and wrapping his arms around you tightly, quickly rolling you both over so that you were flustered, naked, and underneath him. "E-eh..?" You muttered confused, while his hands were already spreading your legs.
"Just take it, okay? You know the word to say if you want me to stop," he smiled at you. Nervousness breeding inside your gut, already gripping the sheets to prepare yourself.
Tamsy knew he was strong. A lot of people didn’t think so considering his leaner build paired with the very big and loose clothes he always wore, but he knew he was the definition of a sleeper build. There wasn’t a lot that couldn’t be accomplished through strength.
But,
He refused to use that strength against you. He was obsessed and, in his own weird little way, in love with you. All he wanted was to have you next to him. He needed you to be twice as in love with him as he is with you. After all, he couldn’t be the one on the loosing side of anything so making you even more obsessed with him than he is with you was the easiest way to make that happen.
So he chased. It could have been easy. He could have simply lifted you up and taken you to some random bunker where he would lock you up and have you never see the light of day or another human being again until you only needed him. It would have been so simple, but that wasn’t what he wanted.
No, Tamsy wanted you to actively choose him. He needed you to stay by his side without force.
So, he started to become the man that you wanted, with a little help from breaking into your room and figuring out your preferences. He was sweet and gentle, always there when you needed a helping hand. He was a shoulder to cry on and a strong back for you to seek comfort in as he protected you. His hands were soft whenever they touched you and his gaze was calm.
He truly became everything you wanted and needed. He worked much harder than he would ever admit to have you in his arms and call you his.
And now, as he stared at you as you slept in his arms, he could confidently say that it was all worth it. Tamsy felt content knowing that you were throughly obsessed with him and would never leave his side, and he did that all without using his strength against you.
You let out a little noise in your sleep and he brings a hand to your face, smoothing out the wrinkle between your eyebrows with his thumb before feeling you hold him tighter. The smallest mumble of his name fell from your lips and made his heart flutter.
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