we have varka who lets you on expeditions but how about varka who refuses to let you go at all? âŠand of course how about what he does when heâs out too longâŠ
grandmaster varka who claims youâre his right hand, but âdemotesâ you to secretary every time an expedition comes around that needs him on it. mostly so he can rail you when he returns.
cw: p in v, unprotected sex. yearner varka. cumming inside⊠oooughhh big dihh varka. varka x fem!reader
he mostly does it to assure your safety, but also because it gives him a reason to get back home safe. his favorite lady in mondstadt, waiting for him to return.
he likes you. it isnât hard to tell, and everyone knows. everyone does. they can tell by the look in his eyes when you pass by, or the way he leans in to listen to you talk. or, when in passing conversation, he mentions things about you that he probably shouldnât pay enough attention to know.
he can describe your fighting style in detail. he pays attention. if someone asked, heâd probably be able to describe you perfectly.
he knows that youâd be upset if he was seriously injured and wouldnât return. heâd be upset about that for you, too. so he doesnât let you accompany him.
âvarka, please. let me go with you. i donât understand why you never let me.â you say, hands firmly planted on the edge of the big desk in the center of his office. you lean forward, making eye contact with him. thereâs something in your eyes thatâs almost pleadingâ but also a little demanding.
his eyes narrow at you. he leans back, tilting his head back as well. âwhy do you wanna come so bad?â heâs smirking, like you arenât serious about this.
âbecause i want to help you,â you retort, tilting your head. âyou say iâm good at fighting but you never let me put my skills to use. why is that?â
âyou really donât get it?â he chuckles, a smirk spreading across his face as he tucks his chin closer to his chest. he looks up at you, brows furrowing. his smirk fades quickly. âi donât want you to get hurt. youâre good at fighting and i trust you with my life. but i wouldnât forgive myself if i let you come with me and you got killed on my watch.â
âyou think that would happen?â you ask, eyebrows knitting in surprise. he really thinks that you would get hurt. itâs a possibility, but youâre strong on your own.
âi donât think it would. itâs unlikely, but the possibility is enough for me to decide against bringing you with.â
he shakes his head, cutting you off before you even have the chance of arguing. âno.â
your relationship is unprofessional enough. not only have you had sex before, it doesnât help that he likes you a bit more than he probably should and ultimately that translates into him being overly protective. he leaves on long expeditions, leaves you on your own for ages and returns in the middle of the night. most of the time he slept into the next day, but one day, particularly after that argument, he drops in on you the same night he returned from a 6 week expedition.
he raps on your door repeatedly, standing in front of it with his shoulders tense and posture stiff. thereâs something warm in his eyes. that and exhaustion in his bones and frustration in his muscles. you answer the door, rubbing your eyes with one hand. youâre dressed in deep blue robes which are tightened around your waist to protect you from the strong winds outside.
he says nothing. as soon as you look up and realize it is him, it is indeed varka, home safe and sound with seemingly no injuries, he pushes past you into your home.
âvarka, are you okay?â you ask, confusion in your eyes as you shut the door.
immediately, he responds. âwe lost a few thousand mora in gear, and countless more in men.â his expression is somber and his eyebrows are knit, set firmly in frustration that pools visibly in his eyes. his stature is tightly wound in frustration and you would be very afraid of this man if you didnât know him.
he moves closer to you, his height leading him to quickly eat up the distance between you both. he leans down, tucking his face into the crook of your neck, where your shoulders connect. he breathes you in, finding your scent comforting after long hours of fighting where his sanity dwindled quickly. you lift your arms and wrap them around him.
you donât say anything. you know varka enough that words wonât comfort him. words wonât do much for him in this state.
as he stands there, frustration winds throughout his body no matter how hard he tries to relax. so, he opens his eyes and tilts his head. his lips gingerly press against your neck, kissing upwards to your ear. you shudder, tilting your head to give him more access. this isnât the first time heâs sought comfort in you and it certainly wonât be the last.
he guides you back and crowds you against the wall, resting his hands above your shoulders on the door behind you. he presses his body against you. his shoulders are wide, his arms are strong and beefy and the rest of his body follows that blueprint. thick, strongâ built to fight and intimidate. enemies cower, but you⊠you just melt against him, content as to be perfectly swallowed by him.
âiâm sorry,â you murmur. trying to offer some comfort outside of what heâs been through. itâs obvious now, though, with the way his hips press against you, that he could care less about the numbers right now. your hands travel idly along the underside of his arms, squeezing comfortingly as he sucks dark hickeys into your skin. the bruises are obvious and stand out against the rest of your skin. not necessarily in color but more in flush. redder, like an unnatural patchy blush starting at your collarbone and going up to meet the angle of your jaw. he pecks the corner of your mouth, then arches himself down to kiss and bite at your throat.
your body shudders, heat going straight between your legs against your will, and your thighs part to accept his thick thigh as it lodged itself between your own. he grunts, feeling your warmth, your heat, your need. his hair is sticking up on the back of his neck and sweat beads at his brow and for a moment he feels a little insecure.
how could he, the grandmaster of the knights of favonius, barge into a womanâs home and push himself upon her? he wonders how you must feel, given heâs done this more than once. suddenly, he stops, breathing heavily into your neck. he must smell. sweat and musk and dirtâŠ
he looks down at you, and youâre leaning against the wall, head tilted as if youâre waiting for him. youâre moving your hips a little too, breathing heavily and trying to soothe the ache between your legs. you stop then, glancing at him. âhm.. what?â you ask. his worries disappear immediately seeing how desperate you are. just as desperate as he is.
he smirks a little, and crowds himself against you more. he holds himself highly, follows his morals strictly⊠in the same breath he took being insecure, he reminds himself that itâs just as rude to deny a lady what she so obviously wants.
ânothing,â he mumbles quickly, moving his hands down to slide them under your robe. he goes back to kissing your shoulder, cupping your tits and squeezing them. the metal of his gauntlet is cold. you shiver, biting the inside of your cheek and pressing yourself against him more.
âyou need something?â he asks. âi thought i was the desperate one.â he teases. he feels the tension leaving his shoulders. maybe itâs you, or maybe itâs the fact he has you beneath him.
âyou still are.â you scoff sharply, but your back arches into his touch nonetheless.
âreally? youâre not even a little desperate? youâre saying you donât miss my cock at least a little bit? itâs been weeks,â he pouts. he withdraws, and abruptly flips you around to pin your front to the door. one hand lazily pulls your robes up, sneaking another hand between your legs and cupping your cunt. youâre warm, and a little wet already. he feels you jump when he makes eye contact and he smirks. âwell, no words needed, baby. your body tells me everything i need to know.â he coos.
you shut your eyes and scowl. âshut up, varka.â you would say you felt his boner, but he wasnât necessarily trying to hide it. âmaybe i do miss it⊠a little. we wouldnât have to do this every time you returned if youâd let me come with you,â you start to complain. he cuts you off by pecking at your cheek and kissing your neck to silence you.
between kisses, he explains. âi need to make sure youâre safe,â he kisses your neck, and spreads his fingers before slipping one inside you. youâre warm, and hot, and sticky and the feeling of you makes him groan. ââŠand maybe i like knowing i have you waiting. needing me. it helps. reminds me what i have to get back to.â
you whimper, tilting your head back to give him more access and pressing yourself back to get more. âiâm flattered,â you mutter shakily. he slides another finger in and you gasp. he scissors his fingers a little bit inside you, stretching your walls. ârelax.â he says, shutting his eyes and groaning into your neck. his other hand holds onto your waist. âfeels good?â he asks.
this⊠is already too much. youâre shaking already. maybe itâs the fact heâs so big in comparison to you, or maybe itâs the fact that he smells like dirt and sweat. itâs a smell mixed with something uniquely him. something you missed. your body trembles and suddenly, he withdraws his fingers.
you whimper in protest and your body jolts, but your disappointment is waved quickly when you hear him messing with his belt. âready?â he mumbles, kissing your shoulder once. you feel his cock spring out and hit your thigh, the sheer thickness of it enough to make the fat of your thighs ripple. he moves his feet hand down between the both of you, wrapping it around the base of his cock to line himself up with you. his thighs are spread wide, pressed against the back of yours. he notches the tip of his cock against your hole and he feels you flutter against him, your slick dripping out and coating the bottom of his length.
youâve had him before. itâs thick and long, curved slightly upward. it gets a bit thicker an inch past the base, and plugs you just right every time. itâs big enough to where you have to adjust. every time. not that you complain.
you nod slowly, giving him the green light⊠and so, he pushes his hips forward. he stops once he gets the tip in, and immediately you whimper. slowly he starts working himself inside you and you try your best to relax. each movement makes your breath hitch. but before you know it, heâs all the way in.
he pauses, breathing heavily and keeping his hips pressed firmly against your ass. he pauses for a second and so do you, before pressing back against him. you whimper as he wiggles his hips against yours, trying to get deeper if that was even possible. you feel him in your stomach, the girth of him spreading you enough so his tip hits the furthest part inside you.
âyou like that?â he murmurs, lifting himself so he can grind himself into you but also use one hand to support himself against the wall. he shuts his eyes, his blonde hair sticking to his face and neck from how close heâs been to you. he groans quietly and you moan out softly, arching your back as his hips rock against your ass.
his free hand slides down your front, and you spread your legs, his hand finding purchase against your thigh so he can slide his middle and ring finger against your clit, rubbing tight uniform circles. the contact sends jolts of electricity through your body, accompanied by the little thrusts heâs been making to get you to relax.
âcan you relax for me?â he asks, his voice soft and comforting but also raspy as he fucks into you. he speeds up, panting against your ear. he uses his thumb and pointer finger to roll your nipple between his fingers. his body is hot against yours, crowding you against the door and effectively pinning you against it. pleasure shoots through your body as he fucks you, little grunts and groans leaving his throat. the sound of his hips hitting your ass resounds through the room, and his stomach clenches as he changes the angle to hit even deeper.
he doesnât even need to work that hardâ heâs been gone for so long, deprived you of pleasure for so long that youâre already close.
âwaitâ fuck. please, donât stop,â you beg. and he doesnât. he keeps doing exactly what heâs doing. rolling your nipple between his fingers, rubbing circles into your clit and fucking his fat cock into you over and over again. youâre so full, you can feel him in your chest.
before you even realize youâre cumming, your walls clench down on his cock and your back arches and you cry out his name. pleasure melts your mind into nothing, and he buries his cock into you as deep as it can go⊠and he cums as well. flooding your walls with hot cum as his fingers stutter in their movement and fail. in the midst of his own pleasure he pushes you further against the wall, resorting to grabbing onto your hips to ground himself as he mindlessly grinds his hips into you. it doesnât take you long to whimper and cry from overstimulation. heâs a bit lost in the feeling of your tight cunt, but not too lost as to ignore your cries.
he slows to a stop, and with a grunt pulls out of your pulsing cunt. he stands there for a second, breathing and letting you breathe as he comes down. he smirks a littleâ finding that moment well worth the wait. so, he asks.
âwasnât that worth the wait?â he teases. âi donât think iâd let you get any work done on an expedition even if you came⊠letâs keep it like this.â
you whine in protest, turning around in his hold and burying your face into his chest. âjust donât go⊠not for a little while, at least. stay. i think itâs time you do your fair share of work anyways.â
his pupils dilate, and he groans at the thought of doing anything but fucking you. he slides his hands up your front to distract you.
âcome on⊠i can think of something much better to dedicate my time to.â
