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varka x reader. after he came home, you spoiled him rotten—with food! now, the consequences of your actions are in the form of a... dad bod. but are you complaining? archons, no
includes: so much domestic love, public display of affection, varka has a lil tummy from your spoiling!
thanks so much to the commenter who gave me this idea! i see you, twin >:)
it started oh so innocently: a little extra meat in the stew. an extra slice of pie at lunch. maybe a third helping of roasted potatoes because, “you didn’t eat properly for months, varka. let me make up for it.”
and varka, good husband that he was, never refused a thing, especially not after you learned about the ration incident. the way he’d quietly given up his own portions near the tail end of the expedition, prioritizing his men. you found out in passing, from one of the vanguard captains. varka never mentioned it himself, and you knew why. he’d already lost too many people—skipping meals was the smallest sacrifice he could make.
so you cooked, and oh, did you cook.
and him? he devoured everything you put in front of him with the same grateful, battle-hardened smile he used to reserve for survival rations and jerky.
now, three weeks post-return, the grandmaster of the knights of favonius was still just as broad-shouldered, still towering and strong, but…
let’s just say, the armor fit a little differently now.
“is it just me,” kaeya said, elbowing you with a smirk during the town hall gathering, “or is the grandmaster… fluffier these days?”
you didn’t even blink. “he is.”
“oh?”
“and he’s still the most dashing man in mondstadt. possibly, teyvat.”
kaeya blinked. “…huh. honestly, i respect it.”
you nodded sagely, eyes locked on your husband as he gave a formal update to the cityfolk. his cloak flared dramatically in the wind. the crowd applauded. his chest puffed.
it wasn’t noticeable to the folks, but to those who knew a thing or two about exercise, his belly was just a tad bit pushed out, only barricaded by the steel plate of armor fighting to keep it contained.
your hands twitched. “okay,” you muttered, clutching your fist like a threat, “i’m going to maul him.”
kaeya gasped, a hand on his chest. “pardon?”
but you were already walking away.
“... and so the knights stationed in nod-krai will rotate back next month, ensuring a seamless transition,” varka was saying, hands clasped behind his back, voice booming.
“varka,” you called sweetly, practically gliding through the crowd.
he turned, brightening like the sun itself. “ah, my love! what brings you—”
and you jumped him.
it wasn’t even subtle. one arm around his shoulders, the other around his waist, and you pressed yourself flush against him with the enthusiasm of someone who had not touched their husband in the last five minutes and found that utterly unacceptable.
“oof—!” he laughed, catching you easily. “well, someone missed me.”
“always,” you murmured into his neck, one hand dangerously low on his side. “but right now, i’m admiring the results of my culinary care.”
“are you talking about the pie or the— oh.” he flushed slightly as you squeezed.
“mmhmm...” you stepped back, giving him a long once-over. “look at you… still strong, still dangerous, and now with a body made entirely of love and chicken stew.”
despite the townsfolk now busy with other matters, varka couldn’t help but sigh, flustered and fond, and cradled your cheek in his calloused hand.
“if this is what peace looks like,” he murmured, “i’m happy to wear it.”
you beamed. “good, because i made cake for dessert.”
he wrapped an arm around your waist. “you’re trying to kill me.”
“i’m trying to feed you, old man. there’s a stark difference.”
he leaned in with a smirk. “then you better be ready to carry me to bed tonight.”
you lean in closer with one of yours. “oh, i am, but only after i get a proper taste of what i’ve been cooking.”
“…what?”
“what?”
dad bod varka wasn't on my agenda, but i'm certainly not complaining! this is a short one, but i just had to write it out before i passed out mwwehehe
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“scratchy little thing” you skipped a wax, now he won’t stop sniffing you. toji’s obsessed sweaty, bulking, and hungry for the mess between your thighs. scratchy or not, it’s his.
♡ cw : sweaty bulking toji · scent kink · oral fixation · messy pussy obsession · filth themes · cockwarming · dubcon undertone
୨୧ one-shot bf!toji(bulking season)xf!reader
you’d missed your wax appointment.
twice.
and now it’d been almost a month. a soft, natural bush had started to grow in not wild, not thick, just enough to make you self-conscious. enough to trap the heat of the day between your thighs, making you squirm in your seat, enough to make your panties stick damply to your skin, enough to catch under your fingertips when you shifted and make you want to claw your own body off. it was enough to drive you crazy. enough to make you want to keep your legs clamped shut. enough that every time you caught toji’s eyes flick down toward your shorts, toward the place between your thighs where that warmth lived, you felt your stomach clench in tight, squirmy dread.
you avoided him. as much as you could. you kept tugging your oversized t-shirt down when you walked past him, kept yanking your shorts higher up your thighs like you could hide the evidence, snapping at him when he so much as bumped your hip in the kitchen. it wasn’t personal. you were just irritated. at yourself. at your body. at the way your pussy itched raw after a day in tight, humid clothes. at the way it smelled rich and heady by evening, sticky under your panties.
and the worst part?
the absolute worst, most humiliating part?
toji was obsessed.
he was in his bulking season. heavier. thicker. hotter. eating six meals a day, lifting like a monster, swallowing protein shakes like water. his body was a furnace now. his sweat smelled stronger, saltier, soaking through his shirts in an hour flat. his cock had gotten bigger too somehow thicker, meatier, so fat it left a permanent print against whatever flimsy shorts he dragged onto his body every morning. you caught him adjusting it every hour without fail, fisting the thick root under his waistband with a low, frustrated grunt when he thought you weren’t looking.
but you were looking.
and so was he.
always.
he wasn’t normal.
his arms were thicker now, veins twisting under flushed skin, muscles pumped and straining even when he was relaxed. his thighs stretched every pair of boxers he owned until they rode high and tight, the thick muscles flexing when he crouched, when he lunged, when he bent down just to watch you flinch. his cock stayed half-hard from the second he woke up, fat and heavy and flushed dark pink at the tip, drooling over the band of his boxers every time you so much as bent over to pick something off the floor.
he couldn’t take it.
he was feral.
especially not when you were sweating.
it started small. you didn’t even notice at first the way he’d casually grab your towel after you left the bathroom, pretending to wipe his neck when really he was breathing you in, slow and deep, eyes fluttering half-shut like a junkie taking a hit. the way he’d pick up your t-shirt from the bed and wipe his face with it, nose buried in the scent clinging to the fabric.
then came the underwear.
and he started collecting them.
quietly. obsessively.
panties you threw in the hamper after a long day out, soaked through with heat and sweat. panties that clung to your curls, that still had the tangy scent of your skin trapped in the cotton seams. he’d fish them out when you showered, drop to his knees by the bed with them in his fist, tongue already hanging out obscenely, nose buried deep in the damp fabric. he sniffed them loud, slurping in your scent with greedy, messy noises, the crotch plastered against his face, his cock twitching painfully against his thigh.
“fuck,” he’d groan, tongue dragging along the sticky middle seam where your slick had dried into the fibers, “how do you smell this good just from walkin’ around, baby?”
he liked the ones that caught in your curls, that stuck to your body when you peeled them off, still warm and wet when he found them. he kept them under his pillow, knotted tight around his fist at night while he jerked off in the dark, his big body creaking the bed frame every time he moaned into the fabric like a man possessed.
and when he heard you pee?
it broke him.
it absolutely fucking shattered him.
you thought nothing of it. you closed the door. locked it. sat down and let go with a soft trickle. sometimes you sighed, soft and sleepy. sometimes you shifted, the faint sound of your thighs rubbing together echoing in the tiny bathroom. toji would be on the other side, forehead pressed against the wall, cock in a death grip down his sweats, huffing against the paint like a dying dog.
your scent.
your little noises.
the heat of it all.
it was too much.
he came to it. hard. fast. biting down on the inside of his cheek to keep from whimpering, painting his own stomach with cum while he rocked against the doorframe like a drunk.
and then you caught him.
right after you flushed, opening the door, and there he was. sweaty. red-faced. panting. one fist squeezing your pink panties to his mouth like he was trying to inhale them whole, the other still stroking his twitching cock slow and filthy.
“toji what the fuck.”
“couldn’t help it,” he panted, shameless, voice cracking. “couldn’t fuckin’ help it, baby. you sound so sweet when you piss. makes me crazy. just thinkin’ about how hot and sticky your pussy gets after holdin’ it in. i had to i fuckin’ had to..”
you slammed the door in his face.
locked it again.
hid your burning face in your hands.
you didn’t talk to him for an hour.
but it didn’t matter.
because when you finally stormed into the bedroom to change, cursing under your breath, he was still there. sitting on the edge of the bed, cock hard again, leaking down his thigh, eyes locked on the dark, damp outline of your soft, sweaty bush pressing against your shorts.
he was drooling.
literally drooling.
you were done.
so fucking done.
you caught him again the next night hand shoved under the pillow, dragging the crusted crotch of your stained period panties across his face, rutting slow into his palm with filthy, broken moans you could hear from the hallway.
“you’re disgusting,” you snapped, heart hammering, arms crossed tight over your chest. “you’re fucking gross, toji. you don’t even care that i haven’t shaved you don’t even care that i’m sweaty and itchy and fucking disgusting”
“i don’t care,” he rasped immediately, voice so raw it sounded painful, “you think i give a fuck about some hair? you think a lil scratchy bush is gonna stop me when you smell like that? when you taste like that? when all i wanna do is shove my fuckin’ face in it and never come up for air?”
he stood up.
walked toward you.
cock bobbing between his thighs, heavy, angry, flushed purple and leaking.
you backed up.
he followed.
“you keep followin’ me around,” you accused, voice cracking, “keep sniffing my panties, jerking off to me pissing like a fucking creep”
“you think i’m not gonna stroke my cock to the sound of my girl’s sweet lil pussy lettin’ go?” he growled, voice going rougher. “you think i don’t wanna taste the sweat you’ve been stewin’ in all day? you think i don’t dream about it?”
you turned, tried to shove past him.
he caught your wrist.
dropped to his knees.
he dropped to his knees so fast the floorboards rattled under his weight, his thick, sweaty arms wrapping around your thighs, yanking you closer before you could even think about stepping away. his breath was hot against your belly, his face buried against the worn cotton of your shorts, inhaling you like a starving man denied food for too long.
“ride my fuckin’ face,” he rasped, voice wrecked and wild, fingers digging bruises into the soft flesh of your hips, “right now. sweaty lil pussy and all. don’t shower. don’t wipe. don’t clean a fuckin’ thing. just sit on me, baby. sit and suffocate me with that nasty, scratchy lil pussy you keep hidin’ from me.”
you blinked down at him, stunned, your chest heaving, shame clawing at your throat.
“w-what?” you stammered, voice breaking into a tiny sound that made his cock throb against the air.
“ride it,” he groaned, tongue lolling out, face flushed, slick with sweat, “ride my fuckin’ face, sweetheart. sit on me till i can’t breathe. lemme drown in it. lemme smell you, taste you, feel all that hot lil mess you’re so embarrassed about.”
your knees wobbled. your hands shook.
he was already yanking your shorts down your thighs, the sticky wet fabric peeling away from your skin with a humiliating squelch, your panties clinging damp between your thighs.
he moaned when the heat of your body hit him, when the scent of your unshaved mound, your musky, sticky pussy flooded the air between you, so thick you could almost taste it yourself.
“fuck,” he groaned low, dragging his nose along the seam of your panties, “fuck, you’re so wet…fuckin’ soaked, baby…you don’t even know what you’re doin’ to me, d’ya?”
he didn’t wait for an answer.
he flopped onto his back right there on the rug, his thick arms still locked around your thighs, mouth open, teeth flashing as he yanked you over him with a grunt of pure animal need.
“sit,” he barked, voice rough and commanding, tugging you down. “sit that messy lil pussy right on my mouth.”
you hovered.
too embarrassed.
too exposed.
your thighs trembling violently as the hot gusts of his breath fanned against your slick folds through the thin cotton of your panties.
he growled. a real, low, vibrating sound that started in his chest and rattled up into the air.
and then he yanked you down hard.
you screamed, a broken, shameful sound, your whole body spasming as your pussy smashed into his face, your wet, scratchy bush pressing hot and messy against his mouth.
he moaned. a long, filthy, wet noise like he was gulping down the taste of you, his nose buried deep, his tongue already working fast and sloppy, dragging up the seam of your panties before tugging them aside with his teeth.
and then he was licking you bare.
straight into the sweaty, swollen mess of you, tongue flattening over the curls first, nuzzling and lapping like he was worshiping every inch, slurping through your folds with loud, obscene noises that made your stomach twist with shame.
he mouthed at your clit, soft at first just heavy, smothering pressure, thick lips sucking gently around the puffy bead, his tongue flicking quick, teasing licks that made your hips jerk without your permission.
“fuckin’ heaven,” he slurred against you, spit running down his chin, soaking your thighs, “smells like heaven, tastes like fuckin’ mine.”
you tried to lift up, tried to ease the pressure, humiliated by how wet you were, by how scratchy the bush must feel against his mouth, by how you could feel your own slick drooling down your thighs onto his beard.
he growled again.
and slammed you down harder.
you sobbed, your thighs trembling, your whole body shaking as he tongued you open, thick, messy licks that made your pussy clench and your clit throb painfully.
“ride it,” he grunted, the vibration of his voice buzzing straight into your cunt. “fuck my face, baby. grind that nasty lil pussy all over me. make it messy. make it fuckin’ drip.”
you couldn’t stop yourself.
your hips started to move, slow and clumsy, grinding against his face, your swollen, wet folds dragging across his mouth, his nose, your slick and sweat painting him like a filthy masterpiece.
he moaned under you, greedy and desperate, arms locking tighter around your thighs to keep you pressed down, his tongue plunging into your tight hole with messy, sloppy thrusts that made your vision go white.
“so fuckin’ sweet,” he groaned. “so fuckin’ nasty. don’t you dare shave, baby. don’t you dare hide this from me again.”
you broke first.
you cried out, shaking and sobbing, grinding down desperately as your orgasm tore through you, your pussy clenching around nothing, spasming so violently you almost slipped off him.
and he still didn’t stop.
still licked.
still slurped.
still dragged his tongue through the sticky mess you left on his face like it was ambrosia.
he only stopped when your thighs gave out completely, collapsing against his thick, sweaty body, sobbing weakly into your own shaking hands.
he sat up under you like nothing thick arms scooping you effortlessly against his chest, your sticky, limp body sliding against the hot, sweaty slabs of his muscles.
and then you felt it.
his cock.
huge.
throbbing.
leaking against your stomach, fat and angry and flushed darker than you’d ever seen it.
“t-toji.. ”you whimpered weakly, but he wasn’t listening.
he grabbed your hips. lifted you. flipped you onto the rug like you weighed nothing.
you gasped, dizzy, your body still twitching from the orgasm, your legs trembling, your soft, sticky thighs falling open helplessly under his massive frame.
and then you saw it.
his cock.
raging hard, curved up, veiny and dripping, the tip swollen, red, leaking long strings of pre-cum onto your sweaty stomach.
he grabbed your knees. shoved them wide apart. pressed the fat head of his cock against your sloppy, abused entrance.
“don’t fuckin’ run,” he growled low in his chest, voice raw, dangerous. “you’re takin’ it. all of it. earned this. been waitin’ for this messy lil pussy all fuckin’ month.”
and then he slammed in.
one thick, brutal stroke that split you wide open, forced your pussy to stretch around his fat cock until you screamed high, raw, choking on your own breath.
he growled, teeth flashing, sweat pouring off his forehead.
“god fuck you’re tight,” he grunted, hips already rolling, already fucking into the squelching, soaked heat of you without mercy, without patience. “messy lil thing…scratchy lil pussy…fuckin’ made for me.”
you were babbling. crying. trying to shove at his shoulders, but he was too big, too heavy, his massive bulk caging you to the floor, fucking into you like he was trying to rearrange your guts.
and then he grabbed your knees.
folded you in half.
and started really rutting.
hard, deep thrusts that punched the air out of your lungs, that made the rug burn against your back, that sent wet, sloppy noises echoing through the room with every brutal stroke.
you were a mess.
you couldn’t breathe.
couldn’t think.
only feel his fat cock dragging against your swollen walls, the scratch of your sweaty, unshaven folds sticking to his heavy balls when they slapped wetly against your ass.
and just when you thought it couldn’t get worse couldn’t get more intense he flipped you.
dragged you on top of him. slammed you down on his cock so hard your vision blurred.
you barely had time to gasp, to cry out, to struggle against the heavy, sweaty weight of his arms before he was dragging you down, slamming you onto his cock so deep and so brutally you thought you were going to black out from the stretch.
his cock split you open like you were made for it, fat and unrelenting, the thick, swollen head forcing your pussy lips wide, dragging against every raw, throbbing nerve inside you. you could feel everything the throb of the veins pulsing along his shaft, the sticky smear of your combined sweat and slick coating your thighs, the wet squelch of your body trying and failing to take him properly.
you sobbed, slapping your palms weakly against his chest, but it was useless he was too big, too solid, his muscles slick and burning under your hands, his whole body trembling with the effort of holding himself back from flipping you over and just breaking you properly.
“no,” he growled low in your ear, his thick arms locking behind your back, caging you against him like steel bars, “you’re not goin’ anywhere. not gettin’ off this cock till i say so.”
you whined, tried to lift your hips, to ease the brutal stretch, but he only squeezed you tighter, grinding you down onto him until you could feel the thick root of his cock grinding against your sore, swollen clit.
your soft, sticky stomach pressed flat against the hard, sweaty slabs of his chest, your nipples dragging against his flushed skin, your thighs twitching violently around his thick waist.
you could feel his breath in your hair, hot and ragged, could feel the way his cock throbbed so hard it made your pussy spasm helplessly around him, could feel the sticky, sweaty mess dripping down the crack of your ass, soaking the rug under you.
and then he started moving.
slow at first.
a lazy, grinding roll of his hips, dragging that fat, brutal cock against every raw, overstretched nerve inside you, forcing your body to jolt and twitch helplessly against his chest.
you sobbed, little broken hiccups of noise that only made him groan deeper, dragging his nose along your sweaty neck, licking the salt from your skin like it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted.
“fuck so fuckin’ soft,” he muttered, voice thick and slurred with lust, “so fuckin’ sweet. made for me, baby. made to sit on my cock, keep it warm…fuckin’ smell like heaven, pussy scratchin’ up my thighs…gonna lose my fuckin’ mind.”
you whimpered, tiny, helpless noises punched out of you with every slow, brutal thrust of his hips. you were too tired to fight him, too overstimulated to think, your body betraying you completely, your pussy clenching greedily around his cock like it didn’t care how filthy, how wrong, how overwhelming it was.
he started fucking up into you harder. faster. sweat pouring down his temples, dripping off his jaw to slick your chest, his muscles flexing and rippling under your palms with every heavy, brutal thrust.
your hips jerked every time he bottomed out, your soft thighs slapping wetly against his slick hips, your stomach jiggling against the hard slabs of his chest with every desperate, brutal grind of his cock.
you sobbed, voice high and cracked and barely human.
“t-too big can’t take it..” you whimpered against his throat, nails digging weakly into his slick shoulders.
“yes you fuckin’ can,” he growled, snapping his hips up so hard you yelped, your whole body jolting against his chest, “you’re takin’ it right now. takin’ it so fuckin’ good, baby. stretchin’ open for me. just like you’re supposed to.”
he squeezed your hips harder, dragging you down to meet every brutal thrust, grinding you against the thick base of his cock, forcing your puffy clit to smear wetly against the mess of sweat and cum pooling between your bodies.
you could feel it everywhere his heat, his strength, his filth, the thick, heavy stink of sweat and sex clinging to your skin, to the rug, to the air itself like a second skin.
he licked up your jaw, filthy and possessive, his breath hot and wet against your ear.
“smell so good, baby,” he panted, tongue dragging a wet stripe along your neck, “all scratchy and sweaty and fuckin’ mine. nasty lil pussy. smell like you’ve been sittin’ on my cock all day. fuck, i’m gonna ruin you.”
you came without warning screaming, shaking, grinding down helplessly as your pussy spasmed violently around his fat cock, soaking him, squeezing him, milking him for more.
he snarled, hips jerking, cock throbbing brutally inside you.
“fuck gonna fill you up again, baby gonna stuff you full till you’re leakin’ for days.”
and he did.
he slammed up into you one last time, deep and brutal, the swollen head of his cock grinding against the spongy, battered walls of your pussy and then he was cumming.
thick, hot, endless.
you could feel it, could feel every thick pulse of his cock dumping filthy, sticky loads deep inside you, so much it forced your pussy to stretch even wider to take it, so much it leaked out around the thick base of his cock, dripping down your thighs, soaking into the rug beneath you.
you sobbed, trembling violently, your nails scraping uselessly against his slippery skin.
but he didn’t let you go.
he held you there. trapped. stuffed full.
one huge arm wrapping tight around your back, the other hand cradling the back of your head, pressing you down against his chest like he couldn’t bear to let even an inch of you escape.
you whimpered weakly, too exhausted to fight, too overstimulated to move, your pussy still fluttering weakly around his softening cock, your whole body trembling from the brutal fucking he’d given you.
he kissed the side of your head. soft. almost tender.
“stay right here,” he whispered against your hair, voice raw and hoarse, “gonna keep you plugged up all night, baby. ain’t lettin’ you go. not ever.”
you were already half-passed out against him, your cheek mashed against the sweaty heat of his chest, your thighs sticky and raw, the musky scent of sex and sweat and cum filling your nose like a brand you’d never be able to wash away.
toji was already getting hard again underneath you.
you must’ve dozed off for a minute because the next thing you knew, he was shifting under you, thick arms caging you in tighter against his sweaty chest, the rough scrape of his beard dragging against your temple as he nuzzled into you like a dog claiming a bone.
you whimpered weakly, too fucked-out and oversensitive to do anything but whine as you felt him roll his hips under you, grinding his cock still thick, still half-hard and heavy from the brutal fucking he’d just given you slow and lazy against the messy crack of your ass.
“mmm,” he rumbled, voice rough and satisfied, “sweet lil thing…still drippin’ on me…fuck, baby, you’re perfect.”
you huffed a shaky breath, your fingers twitching against the hot, sweaty skin of his chest, trying to squirm away from the thick, heavy pressure of him grinding slow and deliberate against your ass.
“toji,” you mumbled, squirming half-heartedly, “why the fuck is your cock even bigger now…?”
you heard the smug, lazy chuckle rumble up from deep in his chest before you felt it vibrate against your body.
“bulkin’, sweetheart,” he drawled, voice dripping with cocky satisfaction as he rolled his hips again, making sure you could feel the fat, sticky weight of his cock dragging heavy and slow between the mess of your thighs, “lil extra eatin’, lil extra liftin’…this cock’s puttin’ on size just like the rest of me.”
he flexed his hips again, grinding the fat, flushed head of his cock along the sensitive curve of your ass, smearing slick and sweat across your skin, the swollen tip dragging dangerously close to your sore, puffy pussy.
you whimpered, trying to nudge your hips away, but he just grabbed your waist and slammed you back down with one big hand, his palm smacking loudly against your ass, making you gasp.
“stay,” he growled low in your ear, grinding up harder, deliberately dragging the heavy, leaking head along the sticky mess between your thighs, “you’re not goin’ anywhere, baby. not when you feel this fuckin’ good.”
you groaned, rolling your eyes, your cheeks burning hot.
“you’re disgusting,” you muttered, voice weak and trembling, but the words had no heat, your body betraying you as you squirmed helplessly against the fat, grinding length of him.
he just laughed again, low and cocky, the thick muscles of his arms flexing around you as he dragged his big, rough palms up your sides, mapping every curve of your sticky, fucked-out body like he owned it.
“show me your lovely tits, baby,” he rasped against your ear, licking a hot, wet stripe up the side of your neck, “c’mon…wanna see ‘em…wanna suck on ‘em…wanna rub my fat fuckin’ cock all over ’em…”
you groaned louder, rolling your eyes again, shoving weakly at his chest.
“god, stop acting like a fuckin’ mutt,” you grumbled, squirming as he rutted his cock up between your asscheeks again, deliberately grinding the slick, fat length against your sticky, trembling skin.
“can’t help it,” he breathed against your jaw, teeth scraping gently over your flushed skin, “you made me like this. scratchy lil pussy, sweaty lil tits, soft lil stomach…fuckin’ perfect…made to be ruined by me.”
you shivered, feeling his cock throb harder against you, feeling his big, rough hands slide down to your ass again, squeezing and spanking it slow, leaving bright red handprints on your sore, trembling skin.
“lemme see ‘em, sweetheart,” he whispered, nipping at your earlobe, grinding up harder so you could feel the thick, heavy pulse of his cock between your thighs, “lemme suck on ‘em while i stuff this fat cock back inside you. c’mon, baby. be good.”
you groaned, dropping your forehead against his sweaty chest in defeat, too tired, too sensitive, too messy to fight him properly anymore.
toji just smiled.
that slow, filthy, satisfied grin.
the grin of a man who knew he had you exactly where he wanted you.
messy, sweaty, stuffed full of his cum, soft and fucked-out and trembling on top of him.
and he wasn’t done.
not even close.
you whimpered weakly against his chest, squirming as he ground the heavy weight of his cock between your thighs again, the swollen head dragging slick and slow over the mess leaking down your ass.
“toji..!” you started, voice cracking, but he just groaned, nosing into your hair, licking the salty sweat from your scalp like he couldn’t get close enough.
“fuck, baby,” he muttered, voice thick and almost broken, “smell so good. all fucked-out and sweaty and messy for me…fuckin’ love it. love when you’re like this.”
he rutted his hips up again, slow and deliberate, the fat tip of his cock sliding through the sticky mess between your thighs, smearing it all over your ass, your folds, your trembling inner thighs.
“could keep you like this forever,” he rasped, nipping your jaw, “keep you stuffed full…leakin’ down your thighs…scratchy lil pussy all swollen for me…pretty lil tits bouncin’ while i fuck the brains outta you…”
you groaned, kicking your feet weakly, trying to wriggle away.
“you’re fuckin’ disgusting,” you muttered, rolling your eyes so hard it made your head spin. “seriously, you sound like a fuckin’ caveman right now !”
he laughed, low and cocky, that filthy, rough sound that rumbled straight into your cunt.
“yeah?” he teased, dragging his tongue up the side of your sweaty throat, his big hands sliding up to squeeze your ribs, “that why you’re still sittin’ here so pretty, lettin’ me grind my fat cock all over your cute lil ass?”
you flushed, squirming harder, but it only made him groan again, rutting up into you with slow, heavy rolls of his hips.
“fuck, baby…feel that? feel how hard you make me?” he rasped, dragging one hand down to squeeze a handful of your ass, smacking it lightly so your whole body jolted against his. “all this cock…just for you…made it bigger just for you, sweetheart.”
“shut up,” you grumbled, turning your head away, cheeks burning, but he only chuckled again, pressing lazy kisses along your temple, your ear, your sweaty jaw.
“nah, baby,” he whispered against your skin, voice low and dangerous, “not shuttin’ up till i see those tits.”
you groaned loudly, smacking your forehead against his chest in frustration.
“you’re obsessed,” you muttered, voice muffled against his skin.
he laughed again, the sound full of nothing but filthy affection.
“damn right i’m obsessed,” he said, tightening his arms around you so you couldn’t squirm away. “been obsessed since the second you walked around here all sweaty and itchy and grumpy with that scratchy lil bush pokin’ out your panties…fuck, baby, i almost lost my fuckin’ mind.”
you huffed, trying to hide your face, but he was already dragging his big hands up under your shirt, rough palms dragging against your sticky, flushed skin, thumbs brushing the under-curve of your tits.
“c’mon, sweetheart,” he coaxed, voice sweet and filthy at once, “lemme see ‘em. lemme suck on ‘em. been fuckin’ dreamin’ about it all day. got this fat cock grindin’ up your ass and you still actin’ shy?”
you wriggled, whining low in your throat, but you didn’t stop him when he pushed your shirt up, baring your sweaty tits to the humid, cum-thick air.
“fuck,” he groaned, voice cracking, “fuck, look at you…so fuckin’ pretty, baby…perfect lil tits all sticky and soft just for me.”
he cupped them both in his big hands, squeezing slow and possessive, thumbs flicking over your sensitive nipples until they peaked under his rough touch, his mouth watering at the sight.
you rolled your eyes again, trying to act annoyed even though you were shivering against him.
“god, you’re such a freak,” you muttered weakly.
he just grinned, leaning up to catch one of your nipples between his teeth, sucking slow and filthy, moaning low in his throat like he was savoring the taste of you.
“mmph…freak for you, baby,” he slurred against your skin, dragging his tongue in sloppy, wet circles around your nipple before biting it just hard enough to make you yelp. “only for you. only for this nasty, sweaty lil body you keep hidin’ from me like it ain’t the best fuckin’ thing i ever touched.”
you whimpered, thighs trembling, your whole body grinding down helplessly against the fat, heavy length of his cock trapped between your bodies.
“shit…toji…” you gasped, nails scraping against his sweaty shoulders as he rolled his hips up again, grinding the thick, leaking head against the soaked mess of your folds.
“yeah, that’s it, baby,” he whispered against your chest, mouthing at your tits, nipping and sucking slow and messy, “grind that soft lil pussy all over me…let me feel how fuckin’ messy you are…fuck, you smell so good…so fuckin’ sweet when you’re nasty…”
you cried out, rocking helplessly against him now, his cock sliding heavy and slow against your dripping folds, your thighs trembling violently around his thick waist.
“gonna fuck you again, baby,” he rasped, voice cracking, grinding up harder so you could feel the fat, slick head of his cock dragging against your swollen clit, “gonna stuff you full again…keep you leakin’ all fuckin’ night…”
you sobbed weakly, nails digging into his chest, but you didn’t move away.
couldn’t move away.
didn’t want to.
not when he was looking at you like you were the only thing that had ever mattered.
not when his fat, heavy cock was dragging slow and messy between your thighs, teasing your battered pussy, making your whole body throb with need.
not when you could still feel his cum leaking out of you, hot and sticky, pooling between your thighs, dripping onto his thick, flexing abs.
and toji?
toji just smiled.
the slow, filthy, satisfied smile of a man who knew he’d won.
who knew he’d broken you down till you couldn’t hide from him anymore.
who knew you were already his, body and soul.
“good girl,” he whispered, licking sweat from your tits, grinding the fat head of his cock against your soaked folds one last time before lining himself up with your fluttering, abused entrance, “lemme love you nasty, baby…lemme fuck you till you forget you ever wanted to hide from me…”
and then he was pushing back in.
thick. heavy. brutal.
stretching you open all over again.
୨୧ thank you so much for reading. i know this one was extra filthy but it’s written with a lot of love (and a lot of thirst). i appreciate you for letting me share the mess inside my head.
your support means more than you know. stay nasty. stay loved.💌
onlypinkslut
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the only drawback to making kento a father is the lack of 'alone time' you now get.
he was made to be a dad, there’s no doubt about it. he’s the perfect contender, stern but patient and understanding and so infatuated with fatherhood that you almost don’t mind the nightly interruptions.
almost. the sound of little padding footsteps leading up to your closed bedroom door gives you a trauma response now. how your husband can hold himself above you, inches away from dipping inside your sweet center, and still remain kind-eyed and cheery when your daughter starts banging on the shut door to be let in is beyond you.
he's a good man. you hate him for it.
maybe you just need sex. you've been deprived of your husband's body for so long that you're going stir crazy, in a sense. he did marry you with a vow of servitude, after all.
thank god for takuma and his wide eyes. he looks like a deer in headlights as he stands at your front door, a huge bag of toys and snacks and just-in-case diapers in one hand and your daughters tiny hand wrapped around two fingers of his other hand. she beams up at uncle ino, ready to spend a night away from home (and get unreasonably spoilt in the process).
"no snacks after her teeth are brushed. and she's developed a penchant for climbing—don't let her do that. and if she comes home with even a mark, ino, i will be breaking each and every last one of your bones, starting with the toes and moving upwards until i reach your—"
"i think he gets the point, love," you place a gentle hand on your husbands tense bicep. "please stop threatening to snap takuma's bones."
ino, who is probably going over his last will and testament in his head, forces a grin. "loud and clear, she's safe with me."
"mhm," your husband can only eye him for so long before your daughter is tugging uncle ino away and leaving the two of you in the foyer.
finally alone. just you, your husband, and his teething paranoia. he's darting to the front window and peeking through it like a yappy dog would as their owner leaves. it’s cute. you feel bad for the future-teenage version of your daughter, who will have to deal with a man like kento nanami as her father. but now she’s just a baby and in the safe (albeit shaky) care of uncle ino, and you are vying for an orgasm or six.
“ken, honey."
his eyes are stuck outside.
"kento."
still stuck. you never thought the other woman would be sporting butterfly clips and drool as a statement piece.
"oh my fucking god kento nanami if you do not fuck me right now i will take that little sword of yours and stick it so far up your— oh hi."
he's standing in front of you before you know it, with your face held firmly in his hands and an awfully stern look on his face.
"my love," he drags his thumb from your cheek, down to your bottom lip. "first of all, i have every intention of ravaging you until you're so full of me that you don't have the mind to beg for more. and second, it's more of a cleaver than a sword."
"okay nerd," you pull your man into a deep kiss, one much more intimate than you've been allowing yourself of late. kento takes the lead easily, slipping his tongue past your lips in a way he'd never dare to do over the breakfast table.
before you can register your movements, the two of you are stumbling like drunk teens up to your bedroom, a garment of clothing lost with each step to the door. you loosen your husbands tie and drop it to the ground, and he manages to unclasp your bra just as his back hits the bed and you're falling on top of him in a mess of gross kisses and shared laughter.
it's sweet, until kento tires of the homely teasing and flips you over to press his heavy body (and even heavier cock, it seems) against yourself. your legs part naturally, as they will ever do for the man you love, and kento trails kiss after kiss from your neck all the way down to the dripping mess of your cunt.
when he latches his lips to your clit you gasp and shoot your hand down to his hair. he loves it being pulled, admitted to you after a drink too many that he finds in degrading in a way that is only pleasurable coming from you: he's sensitive to that sort of stuff, so you tug lightly at his blond locks until your fingers snag against something hard.
"what's in your hair?" you manage between moans as ken savours his most favourite meal.
he pulls away for a second, resting his cheek against your parted (and already shaky) thigh as you comb through his hair with your fingers once more and pullout not one, but two hot pink butterfly clips that you were looking for only this morning.
"oh," your husband smiles when he sees them. "i got a princess makeover last night. i stopped her before she could go looking for makeup but she did manage to find those."
"they suit you," you smile, and clip them back into his hair. it look silly, but it keeps his hair from sticking to his forehead in the heat of things, so you look past the glitter. "you're a good dad, you know?"
kento presses a kiss to your clit, which has your breath hitch in your throat, before rising up to climb over you once again. his cock is heavy and pulsing with heat as it rests against you, but ken denies himself for a moment in favour of pressing a very sweet kiss to your lips. you can taste yourself on his smile.
"thank you for making me a dad," he kisses your cheek next, and then your forehead. "and thank you for everything else you have given me in our marriage."
"all those orgasms..." you muse, which earns you a small laugh from your lover.
"oh indeed," he reaches down and lines himself up with you. "you always know just how to set the mood. very sentimental, you are."
"it's what you married me for," you lift your hips a little to help your husband in. "isn't it? you just love the way i—oh god, ken."
he pushes into you niiice and slow, feeling the way you stretch around him. it's been a while, so the usual ache of accommodating his unfair size is more of a burn this time through, but kento's lips against your neck are a nice distraction. he's slow and sweet and so in love with you that you can feel it in the way he fills you up. or maybe you're just delusional from the dick.
"love the way you feel," he finishes your sentence. drawing his hips back only a little to get you used to his movements, he presses his next kiss to your shoulder. "love the way you look."
"you don't need to flatter me. you're already inside of me."
kento bites the skin of your shoulder and picks up the pace to really start fucking you. "love the way you can take a compliment without being a smartass about it."
"god, kento," you can only manage a few words before he's adjusting his thrusts to brush against your g spot with each movement in and out. "it's so much."
"i love how well you take me," he goes on. "i love your heart. and i love your body. and i love your idiotic jokes. and i love how you smell."
"ken..."
"and i love—" kento runs a hand down your left arm to take your hand in his, bringing your knuckles up to his lips before pressing a long kiss to your wedding band "—how i'm all yours."
not his, yours. he's made it very clear since your first date (which was more of a study-situation than anything, that he is all yours. your property. your lover. your shoulder to cry on and your life partner and the man who would burn down cities for you and your kid.
and the only man who could fill you this deep and still be romantic about it. he fucks you like that until your legs are locked around his waist and you're begging him to fill you up with his load.
and of course he obliges, because anything you ask for he will give you enthusiastically. he rubs your clit until you're blanking on your own name and cumming in beautiful synchronisation with him. kento spills deep inside of you with a breathy groan and even then still manages to fuck you through your orgasm until he's softening inside of you and you're trying ultra hard not to cry from the overwhelming love (and pleasure) you're feeling.
and as he holds himself over you, smiling down at you like he didn't just possibly breed you out again, all you can do is look up at him with teary eyes and laugh at the ridiculous pink butterfly clips on his head.
"you're so pretty," you giggle, reaching up between your sweaty bodies to tap on the clips. "my manly husband."
"god," he groans, dropping his head down to your chest. you laugh some more, now with an even better view of his accessories, until he steals your laughter altogether with a sharp bite to your nipple.
"ow, fuck! that is not how a princess behaves."
"you are going to be the death of me."
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to meet a saurian is one thing, but to meet its companion is another
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ft. kinich m.
Being a healer in the tribe of Huitztlan means getting busy after Pilgrimage. Things can get rough when tending to the many warriors who fought in the event. While picking herbs along the cliffs, an odd Saurian who calls himself the “Dragon Lord” startles you. But you realize it too late — and stumble down. Luckily for you, his dear companion saves the day.
wc: 542
a/n: first ever fic yayayy! got him just two days before his banner left and wrote this as celebration LMAO anw enjoy!!
☆⋆。
You barely have time to process what’s happening before the ground shifts beneath you.
Falling.
Fast.
But before you can reach the jagged rocks below, you're caught by strong, calloused—yet surprisingly soft—arms.
He's stoic, the complete opposite of the loud and arrogant Saurian, who now looks flustered and clearly rattled after nearly causing an accident.
"Arg! I would’ve apologized, but you lowly humans have no survival skills! Such simpletons!" the Saurian—who introduced himself as the “Almighty Dragon Lord”—roars.
"That’s it. Time-out for you," the man who just saved you says calmly, his voice steady.
You stifle a laugh at the absurdity of the situation, though your heart is still racing from the fall.
“I’m sorry about Ahaw. He still has a lot to learn,” the man says as he checks on you. “Are you okay?”
“Oh—I'm fine!” you reply with a small smile. “I get that Saurians tend to get cheeky around their companions,” you add, trying to ease the tension.
“Ahaw’s a special case, though. He tends to cause trouble when I’m not around. Good thing I was close.”
The man introduces himself as “Malipo” Kinich. His ancient name definitely suited him, you think. As you both exchange honorifics, you notice how late it’s gotten. He catches the panicked look on your face.
“Are you alright? Do you have somewhere to be?” Kinich asks.
“It’s actually getting pretty late… I’m probably needed in the infirmary by now,” you reply.
Without hesitation, he scoops you up, and you both glide swiftly through the canopy, heading back toward the Scions' grounds.
His grip on you is firm, the moonlit breeze brushing past as you soar. His eyes soften at your amused face. The journey back is quiet, yet comforting. You feel at ease.
As the Scions’ grounds come into view — revealing a shining path down below — he lands you both with ease, so smoothly you don't even realize it until he sets you down gently.
“Thank you,” you say, your voice soft.
He meets your gaze for a heartbeat longer than expected. “Anytime,” he replies. Then he steps back. “Try not to fall off any more cliffs.”
You laugh. “No promises.”
From behind you, Ahaw’s voice rises like an animal in the wild, “I meant to catch them, obviously! You just interfered!”
Kinich doesn’t even bother to look at him. “Go change that attitude of yours.”
Complaints and bickering echo behind you, but you can’t help grinning at the both of them. As you make your way back to the infirmary, your thoughts drift to the Saurian hunter—his hands, rough from battle, yet gentle in the way they’d held you. Hands meant to fight, to protect... and still, somehow, to comfort.
You smile to yourself at the thought of him—still watching over you, even now.
credits to @/5656hayururi in twt for the banner
°˖➴ m.list
© seichoki | all rights reserved. do not copy, plagiarize, or repost any of my works.
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to meet a saurian is one thing, but to meet its companion is another
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ft. kinich m.
Being a healer in the tribe of Huitztlan means getting busy after Pilgrimage. Things can get rough when tending to the many warriors who fought in the event. While picking herbs along the cliffs, an odd Saurian who calls himself the “Dragon Lord” startles you. But you realize it too late — and stumble down. Luckily for you, his dear companion saves the day.
wc: 542
a/n: first ever fic yayayy! got him just two days before his banner left and wrote this as celebration LMAO anw enjoy!!
☆⋆。
You barely have time to process what’s happening before the ground shifts beneath you.
Falling.
Fast.
But before you can reach the jagged rocks below, you're caught by strong, calloused—yet surprisingly soft—arms.
He's stoic, the complete opposite of the loud and arrogant Saurian, who now looks flustered and clearly rattled after nearly causing an accident.
"Arg! I would’ve apologized, but you lowly humans have no survival skills! Such simpletons!" the Saurian—who introduced himself as the “Almighty Dragon Lord”—roars.
"That’s it. Time-out for you," the man who just saved you says calmly, his voice steady.
You stifle a laugh at the absurdity of the situation, though your heart is still racing from the fall.
“I’m sorry about Ahaw. He still has a lot to learn,” the man says as he checks on you. “Are you okay?”
“Oh—I'm fine!” you reply with a small smile. “I get that Saurians tend to get cheeky around their companions,” you add, trying to ease the tension.
“Ahaw’s a special case, though. He tends to cause trouble when I’m not around. Good thing I was close.”
The man introduces himself as “Malipo” Kinich. His ancient name definitely suited him, you think. As you both exchange honorifics, you notice how late it’s gotten. He catches the panicked look on your face.
“Are you alright? Do you have somewhere to be?” Kinich asks.
“It’s actually getting pretty late… I’m probably needed in the infirmary by now,” you reply.
Without hesitation, he scoops you up, and you both glide swiftly through the canopy, heading back toward the Scions' grounds.
His grip on you is firm, the moonlit breeze brushing past as you soar. His eyes soften at your amused face. The journey back is quiet, yet comforting. You feel at ease.
As the Scions’ grounds come into view — revealing a shining path down below — he lands you both with ease, so smoothly you don't even realize it until he sets you down gently.
“Thank you,” you say, your voice soft.
He meets your gaze for a heartbeat longer than expected. “Anytime,” he replies. Then he steps back. “Try not to fall off any more cliffs.”
You laugh. “No promises.”
From behind you, Ahaw’s voice rises like an animal in the wild, “I meant to catch them, obviously! You just interfered!”
Kinich doesn’t even bother to look at him. “Go change that attitude of yours.”
Complaints and bickering echo behind you, but you can’t help grinning at the both of them. As you make your way back to the infirmary, your thoughts drift to the Saurian hunter—his hands, rough from battle, yet gentle in the way they’d held you. Hands meant to fight, to protect... and still, somehow, to comfort.
You smile to yourself at the thought of him—still watching over you, even now.
credits to @/5656hayururi in twt for the banner
°˖➴ m.list
© seichoki | all rights reserved. do not copy, plagiarize, or repost any of my works.
#seichoki#genshin impact#kinich#genshin x reader#kinich x reader#kinich x you#kinich x y/n#genshin impact fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#oneshot#genshin kinich#kinich malipo#ajaw#kuhul ajaw#x reader#fluff#genshin fluff#genshin fanfic#genshin imagines#kinich x fem reader#kinich fanfic#kinich fluff#genshin impact x reader#first fanfic#kinich genshin#fiction#short story#found family#genshin insert
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NEW BLUELOCK CHARACTER OMG???

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navigation˚꩜。



˚.⁺⊹ masterlist | rules | tags
sei ✧ 18 ✧ she/her ✧ chinese-filo
➸ sfw/nsfw writing + personal blog, not spoiler free!!
➸ multifandom | bluelock, jjk, haikyuu, aot, genshin ♡
➸ request: open
© seichoki | all rights reserved. do not copy, plagiarize, or repost any of my works.
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