💋 Nurse Succubus 🚑

So now you’re hiding. Because you’re next. You have to be next.

His footsteps crunch over the gravel, slow and bouncy like he’s having the time of his life. Then the laughter starts again — loud, wild, completely deranged.

“Hmmm~ Where’s my favorite person?” Childe sings, clearly enjoying himself way too much. “Come out, come out, wherever you are! I saved the best part just for you, babe!” Another burst of manic giggling echoes through the alley. 

Fuck he’s getting closer way too fucking close.

Your whole body is shaking so hard that the crate behind you is rattling. Tears won’t stop pouring down your face. 

Shit shit shit! He’s going to kill you. He snapped. He’s completely lost it, and now he’s going to— 

“BOO!” 

A bloody hand slams down on the crate right above your head. “AH THE FUCK-” You immediately slapped a hand over your mouth

Ajax drops down into a crouch in front of you, blue eyes wide and sparkling with pure insanity. His ginger hair is soaked red.

Blood smeared across his freckles like war paint. He’s grinning so wide it looks like his face might split.

“You really thought you could hide from me?” he laughs, loud and bright. “After I just put on a whole show for you? That’s so mean!” 

He swiftly grabs your ankle and yanks you out from between the crates in one smooth motion.

THUD!

Hissing in pain as you hit the ground hard, but he’s already on top of you, straddling your waist, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand.

His face is inches from yours his mouth panting. You can smell the blood, see the lovesick glee in his eyes.

“You watched the whole thing, didn’t you?” he whispers, almost affectionate. “Saw me tear him apart... laughing while he cried like a little bitch. And then you ran away from me like I was gonna do the same to you.”

He drones off on that last part, Childe tilts his head, still smiling that terrifyingly happy smile. 

“Wait...You thought I was coming to kill you next, huh? Pffttt!-” He bursts out laughing again — loud, unhinged, shoulders shaking as he presses his bloody forehead against yours. “That’s so fucking cute.~” 

His cock is already hard, grinding against your stomach through blood-soaked fabric. You feel it twitch when you whimper.

His free hand slides down your side, gripping your ass hard enough to bruise. “I’m not gonna kill you, babe,” he purrs, voice dropping into something much darker. 

“I killed him because he touched you. Because he thought he could have you. I did it all for us.”

He leans in and licks a tear off your cheek, blue eyes half-lidded with delight.

“Baby, stop crying and tell me how much you loved the show… or I’ll give you a reason to really scream.”

He says that last part with a proud little grin, an attempt to reassure you he’s stable. 

You stare up at him, chest heaving.

“…Ajax is you on drugs right now?” you choke out.

He blinked once, then twice before laughing; his pupils literally dilated into tiny hearts as he pants above you, chest heaving, that manic smile never fading.

“Completely sober, babe. Promise.” He nipped your ear playfully. “Did it all on no drugs~,” he sing-songed.

“You’re fucking insane!” you scream, thrashing underneath him.

The insult lights him up like fireworks.

He moans openly, hips rolling slow and filthy, pressing the thick line of his cock against your cunt.

“Fuck— say it again. Louder.” Childe’s voice cracks with glee. “Call me a lunatic, baby. Please.”

You spit in his face. “Get the hell off me, you psychotic ginger bast—”

“Hah— you’re so h-hot when you’re mad at me,” he cuts you off delighted.

“You made me so sad when you decided to cheat on me, baby…” he coos.

“What???” This made you freeze. “We broke up months ago, you fucking psycho— get off—”

“No.”

The word drops flat. Instant. Like a switch flipped behind his eyes.

“No. No no no no no.” He’s giggling now, shoulders shaking as he pins your wrists deeper into the gravel. “Don’t do that. Don’t say that. We didn’t break up. I didn’t agree to that. You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”

“Ajax…we broke up. Months ago. I left. You can’t just-”

“No.”

His fingers dig bruises into your ass. Cock twitches hard against your belly, leaking through his pants as he fishes it out one-handed. Thick. Angry. 

Drooling precum in fat sticky ropes that splatter hot against your clit.

“Shhh gonna split you open, bunny,” voice still sickeningly sweet. Hips rocking forward as the fat head kisses your entrance—hot, demanding, wider than you remember. "Just relax… let me fill you up…"

“Wait!- hngh!-”

Plunging in deep you cried out nails scraping the gravel, walls fluttering uselessly around the sheer girth, trying to push him out even while more slick gushes out to betray you.

“F-ffuck! Didn’t you hear me??”

He sinks deep, deep, deep, blue eyes half-lidded in bliss while that smile never falters.

“Don’t say that again.” One blood-stained hand cups your cheek, thumb smearing red across your skin like he’s petting a scared kitten. 

“C’mon, babe. We both know how this ends. Seems you forgot who you belong to. That’s okay though.”

With a broken moan his forehead dropped to yours pausing briefly.

“I’ll remind you.”

He starts moving.

Slow at first—wet, filthy drags that grind his cock against every raw nerve inside you.

Then harder. Meaner.

Each thrust timed with that same cheerful, hollow voice.

“Ya f-feel that, babe? That’s me. That’s us. No break-up. No ex. Just t-this pretty pussy squeezing me so tight like it missed its owner!”

You gritted your teeth and tried to twist away.

He’s too heavy. Too deep. Too gone.

“Ajax, ngh! puhleeasee! This isn’t!-”

“NO-“ plap! “NO-“ plap! “NO NO NO- don’t do that! Don’t say that!” 

Every “no” lands with a vicious snap of his hips. 

Cockhead battering your womb like he’s trying to fuck the memory of leaving him out of your body.

“-We’re on a nice date right now, babe! Can’t you hah…haha…see? I took you out, I got all dressed up for you, I’m being so good for you tonight!”

He’s screaming between giggles. 

Tears pouring. Smile never drops. Just keeps stretching wider and wider like his face is about to split. 

The wet pap-pap-pap of skin on skin echoes loud between you, slick and cum all mixing together. 

You sob harder. “W-what are you ah!- talkin’ bout?!? I said we broke up! T-this isn’t a date!”

“NO!”

Another scream tears from his throat. Raw. Unhinged. Sinking deeper. Inch after thick inch.

“Don’t say that again. Don’t say that, don’t say that don’t say that - we’re on a date! This is our date!”

Laughing and crying and babbling all at once while heart-shaped pupils spin wildly.

As he fucks you in earnest—wet, filthy schlick-schlick-schlick echoing off the crates in the alley.

His leaking precum making an obscene mess between your thighs.

He’s laughing and crying and babbling all at once, that empty cheerful mask splintering wider and wider.

“You always come back to me eventually.” His voice fractures sweeter, darker. “This cunt is squeezing me so tight! Baby!— fuck, you missed me, didn’t you? Haha…”

You sob, hands gripping his shoulders tight so hard you made indents from your nails.

He only groans louder, pace turning relentless, hips grinding deep on every thrust like he’s trying to crawl inside your ribs and stay there forever.

In his shattered mind, this is a date.

The only one that matters.

And he’s never letting it end.

🔪 DOTTORE — Exhibit A

“You brought this on yourself, you know.” 

The words hum down the long, sterile hallway, lazy, almost affectionate.

As if he’s scolding a pet who keeps making the same mistake.

You’re running as fast as your legs will carry you, feet slapping hard against the cold tile while your lungs burn and your heart hammers so violently you can hear it thundering in your ears. 

Sweat pours down your spine, and your thighs feel way too slick, way too hot, and none of it makes any sense because you’re running for your life.

You’re sure you’re going to die, so why the fuck is your pussy throbbing and dripping down your own legs like this?

Your mind is spinning so fast it hurts.

You’d only come back to Snezhnaya because your ex said he needed to talk, and then you heard the screaming and the wet, horrible sounds, and then nothing at all. 

Of course, you didn’t witness what happened, but you’re starting to piece together what unfolded now with every heavy footstep echoing behind you. 

He killed him. 

He actually killed your boyfriend, then he injected you with something, and now he’s hunting you through his own lab, part of whatever sick experiment he’s running, wanting you terrified and soaking wet at the same time. 

Your head is pounding, your skin feels clammy and burning hot all at once, your heart is beating so fast it’s making you dizzy.

Yet still your cunt keeps clenching around nothing, dripping down your thighs with every desperate step. 

The ache between your legs is getting worse. 

Throbbing hot and embarrassing, how are you running for your life, and your pussy is acting like this is foreplay?

“Do I really have to do this to teach you a lesson each time?” Dottore chuckled, his humming getting louder, his steps steady. “Running only makes the poison work faster, love~.”

His voice is so much closer now, curling up your spine, breathing down your neck, and you don’t dare look back. 

You just keep running, gasping, crying, thighs trembling and slippery while that awful heat keeps spreading through your body, and you're so sure that whatever he gave you isn’t poison at all.

And then it hits.

It crashes through your veins like liquid fire, so sudden and violent that your legs give out instantly. You fall hard, knees slamming into the cold tile as a broken sob rips from your throat. 

A puddle of slick immediately spreads beneath you, warm and humiliating, because you’re gushing so much it’s pooling on the floor. 

Fuck

Your cunt won’t stop spasming, clenching, and fluttering around nothing while wave after wave of pure, pent-up arousal drowns you.

All you feel is white-hot need flooding every inch of you, so violent it rips a broken moan straight from your throat. 

Attempting to get up, but you only twitch and writhe your limbs, feeling like static jello.

You look like you’re in the throes of a fever — flushed all the way down to the roots of your sweat-drenched hair, eyes slightly glazed and unfocused, lips parted as you pant like you’ve forgotten how to breathe.

Treachorous pussy won’t stop twitching against its will. Fresh slick gushes out of you in waves, so much that you can hear the wet sound of it dripping. 

You can’t think...you can’t even remember why you were running. 

All you know is that you’re burning, aching, dripping, and the man who just killed your boyfriend is standing right behind you. 

“There we go…” he purrs, slow footsteps finally stopping beside you. “That’s what I wanted to see. Fascinating.”

His red eyes pierced through your trembling form like twin scalpels, cutting straight through whatever was left of your dignity. 

You’re on the floor in a puddle of your own slick, thighs shaking violently, chest heaving as another wave of that cursed heat slams into you. 

Shame burns hotter than the aphrodisiac. 

Shame on you.

Shame on you for even considering giving him another chance.

That stupid letter he sent you had sounded so sweet, so almost-human.

You’d actually let yourself believe he might’ve changed. 

What a fuckin' joke. 

You left him for a reason.

No matter how tenderly he touched you, you could never tell if he was holding you because he missed you or because he was quietly counting your pulse for some new “stress test.” 

Every damn time he looked at you, it felt like he was staring at a particularly interesting petri dish.

Those segments gave you the worst hive-mind uncanny valley feeling, like you were dating twenty versions of the same man who all saw you as data.

You were so fucking sure that Dottore didn’t actually love you. 

That you were just his favorite little experiment. 

And yet here you are. 

Dripping all over his floor. Whimpering like a bitch in heat while he stands over you, looking as smug as always.

“Pathetic,” voice low and clinical, but there’s something darker threaded underneath it.

He crouches slowly beside you, gloved fingers tilting your chin up so you’re forced to meet those crimson eyes. “Look at you. Running from me only to end up like this.” 

You try to snarl at him, but it comes out as a broken moan instead.

Hips twitch uselessly against the cold tile, cunt clenching hard around nothing as another gush of slick leaks out of you. The shame is suffocating. 

“I left you-” you gasp, voice cracking, “-because you don’t even love me. You look at me like I’m just another specimen. Those Segments… It’s like dating twenty of you, and none of them actually want me; they just want the data-” 

Your words cut off into a sharp cry as he drags two fingers through your soaked folds, spreading you open without warning. 

“Such a dramatic little thing,” Dottore coos, mocking. “All that fire with your pussy drooling all over my fingers the second I touch it. You really think I don’t love you?” 

He laughs softly, dark and cruel. “If I didn’t, would I have gone through the trouble of killing that worthless fling of yours? Would I have spent weeks perfecting this particular strain of aphrodisiac simply so I could watch you fall apart so beautifully?” 

Your ex smiled eerily and slowly took off his glove. “Did you have your fun? Did you get it all out?--” He pressed two thick fingers inside you without mercy, curling them viciously against that spot that makes your vision spark white. “-It’s time to come back to me.” 

You sob, hips jerking, tears spilling down your flushed cheeks. “Zandik- hah- please” 

“Please, what?” Twisting his fingers deeper, thumb circling your swollen clit with slow, teasing strokes. “Use your words, darling. You were so eloquent a moment ago about how I don’t love you. Tell me exactly what you need from the man who supposedly feels nothing for you.” 

Your pride is crumbling fast.

The heat is unbearable now, every inch of you burning, pulsing, begging. You’re so pent up it hurts.

“I— I can’t— fuck— Zandik, please, I need—”

He pulls his fingers out completely, leaving you clenching around nothing. You whine pathetically at the loss, hips chasing his hand like a desperate whore. 

“Beg properly,” he says coldly, eyes glittering with wicked delight. “Beg the man you claim doesn’t love you to fuck the need out of your pitiful, dripping cunt. Or perhaps I should just leave you here like this?... Let you writhe on the floor until the aphrodisiac drives you truly insane? Hm?~” 

Damn him

You break. Tears streaming, voice shaking, pussy throbbing so hard it’s painful, you sob out the words he wants to hear.

“Please… please, Zandik, I need your cock— I need you to fuck me, please— I can’t take it anymore—” 

Dottore's mouth curls, slow and terrifyingly satisfied. “Good girl.”

Two thick fingers push back inside you without warning, curling viciously against that spot that makes sparks explode behind your eyes.

You sob, hips jerking hard as another gush of slick floods out around his hand, pooling on the cold tile beneath you.

The pleasure is too much. Too fast. Your cunt keeps spasming and fluttering uselessly, greedy and desperate even as shame burns through you.

You try to close your legs. Try to bite back the whimpers.

Smack!

It was sharp - fleeting, even - but your entire body is jolting at the feeling of Dottore’s thick fingerpads smacking your poor cunt. 

Right above your ravaged clit. “Ngh- Z-Zandik!” 

“Z-Zandik!” he mocks your moans, voice higher than usual. “Thought you wanted hngh- to be quiet, whore?”

He grins, chuckling softly at the way you’re half-lucidly pushing at his rippling biceps - nails leaving neat little marks as you’re torn between pushing him away and wanting more, more, more-

“How are you gonna do that if you’re like this, huh?”

You fixed your quivering lips to say anything, but he did something unexpected-

He leans in and kisses you like he actually missed you.

Soft at first. Almost sweet.

His moves against yours with surprising tenderness while two thick fingers sink back into your dripping cunt, curling lovingly against that spot that makes your brain melt.

“I love you,” he whispers between kisses, his voice low and warm against your lips. “I’ve always loved you. Do you have any idea how much effort I’ve invested in you?”

At the same time, his fingers pinch your swollen clit hard, rolling the poor bud between his thumb and forefinger with mean, precise pressure.

You jolt and whimper into Dottore's mouth. “Mmnph!- no, you-”

He just kisses you deeper, swallowing every sound, murmuring sweet filth against your tongue.

“My perfect little whore,” he coos lovingly, pressing soft kisses along your jaw, your tear-stained cheek, the corner of your eye. “Look at you. Such a pathetic, dripping mess on my floor. Crying and gushing like you were made for this.”

Another deep, affectionate kiss as he pinches your clit even harder, tugging on it while his fingers fuck into you with wet, filthy sounds.

“I love you so much,” he breathes tenderly, like it’s the most romantic thing in the world. “I’ve discarded less valuable things for far smaller reasons.”

You’re shaking, overwhelmed and confused at the constant contrast between his soft kisses, gentle confessions, and the ruthless way he’s abusing your clit is driving you insane.

He kisses you again — slow, deep, devoted — right as he gives your clit one last vicious pinch.

That’s what breaks you.

Your orgasm hits like lightning. You scream into his mouth as your cunt clamps down around his fingers, gushing everywhere in messy, humiliating waves.

Dottore keeps kissing you through it. Sweet. Loving. Like he’s proud of you.

Only when your body finally goes limp does he pull back, red eyes glowing with satisfaction.

Then his smile turns sharper.

“That aphrodisiac I gave you?” he says calmly, still stroking your hair like a lover. “It was always a hybrid. The paralyzing agent activates right after orgasm.”

You try to move your legs.

Nothing.

From the waist down… you’re completely paralyzed.

“Fascinating…” Zandik leans down and presses one last gentle kiss to your forehead, his voice soft and affectionate.

“You won’t need legs anymore, darling. I’ll take care of you from now on.”

🔪 RERIR — Fuck Your New Guy

He’s going to kill him. Right now.

That’s what the eye contact is for. You understand that now, tied to the headboard, gag wet from crying, that the man you’ve been seeing for three months is going to die in front of you.

Watching Rerir’s hand coil around your man’s throat, slowly wanting you to see all of it.

Your fling is begging. Grabbing at his wrist with both hands, saying things — please and wait and something pathetic about not even knowing you that well — and your true lover doesn’t even flinch. 

Pink eyes bore holes through you, and somehow, you knew exactly what they were silently communicating at this moment.

You ran, his eyes say. 

Across a continent, across a whole ass ocean. Inazuma. You made it to Inazuma and stood in your new home, and almost convinced yourself it was over.

His grip tightens slow n’ deliberate…You feel it in your stomach even from across the room, this horrible, telegraphed knowing, and you’re pulling at the rope again without deciding to, wrists burning, throat working around nothing-

CRACK!

The sound was loud. Wrong in a way that lives in your body now, permanent, a sound you will never un-hear for the rest of your life.

You closed your eyes tight as if that would make this go away. Flinching when you heard the deep thud of your ex's body dropping to the floor.

Still not opening your eyes. Just squeezed them shut harder, biting your lip behind the gag so the sob stays where it is.

How did this happen?

Why you?

Why not some other girl - there’s no way he’s this obsessed, right?!

It’s ok, it’s all a dream once you open your eyes; this’ll all be some sick nightmare that you can laugh about—

He’s right in front of you. 

“EEP!-” You jerked back hard, skull connecting with the headboard, stars exploding across your vision.

Rerir’s hand shoots out, gripping your face hard. Cheeks squishing between his long, sharp claws, blood forming at the ends of his talons, forcing your teary eyes to meet his. 

When he tore the gag off, you didn’t even breathe first. "I'm sorry!-"

Already. Before you can even think.

"I'm so sorry, okay, I know I left, but I just needed — it wasn't about you; he didn't even mean anything, I swear, I wasn't thinking. Please, I'll fix it, I'll do whatever you want, just please don't-"

Rerir stares at you, eyes narrowed in genuine confusion.

He killed for you. Crossed an ocean for you. And here you are looking at him like he’s something you have to survive.

It should bother him.

…it doesn’t.

He tunes most of it out. 

The rambling. 

The apologies.

The way your voice keeps cracking. 

He just watches your face, searching for the girl who used to call him "Riri".

“—I can make it up to you.”

Oh

There she is.

“Make it up to me.” He drawls, repeating.

You gulp but nod frantically. “Yes. Anything! I swear! I’ll do anything.” 

His eyes drop for a second, then back up to yours. “Even that?”

You know exactly what he means. 

The thing you always shied away from, always found some excuse for — you’re too big, we can’t, I can’t— and he was patient. 

He was. 

But patience has a limit, and you just handed him an open invitation.

His giant cock visibly throbs in his pants, a wet spot spreading from the tip as he leans in close, long sharp claws trailing down your stomach.

Rerir brings two blood-stained fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with a slow drag of his tongue, pink eyes never leaving yours.

“You said I was too big.” His voice drops low. Husky. “Said you couldn’t take it.”

Clawed hand sliding lower until he’s cupping your soaked cunt possessively. “And now you’re tied to the bed, telling me you’ll do anything.”

“Ok wait- Rerir— I didn’t mean—”

“Fuckkk, I need ya.” He crashes his mouth into yours like a starving animal.

He doesn’t give you time to breathe.

One clawed hand tilts your head aside while the other grips your hip hard enough to bruise. His mouth attacks your neck — licking, sucking, biting marks into every inch the other man never touched.

“I need ya so badly,” he groans against your skin, “Been dreaming about this tight little virgin pussy the entire time I crossed that fucking ocean for you.”

You whimper as he frees his cock.

It’s monstrous.

Thick, veined, heavy enough that it slaps against your stomach with a wet thwack. The tip is already drooling thick ropes of precum.

“Rerir it’s— it’s way too big— I can’t— we shouldn’t—”

“Fuck no.”

He cuts you off with a sharp snap of his hips, notching that fat cockhead right against your entrance. Pink eyes gleaming with something feral.

He pushes forward with just a tip. The bigggg stretch is immediate, stinging, and impossible.

Your back arches clean off the bed, a broken cry ripping from your throat.

“You got very far. Fuck, I’ll give you that.”

He’s panting against your ear, claws digging into your thighs as he forces you open wider. “Tied up. Begging to make it up to me. This pussy’s already creamin’ all over me, and I’m barely inside.”

SCHLCK!

Another thick inch sinks in. Your walls flutter desperately around the invasion, trying and failing to adjust. “Rerir!!— ngh!—”

Rerir’s claws dig harder into your thighs as he forces another thick inch inside you.

Your pussy has never taken anything close to his size before, and it’s fighting him, walls clamping down so tight it almost hurts him too.

“NGGH-” A broken whine rips from your throat. “-IT HURTS!” Your back bows clean off the bed.

“Just relax,” he hisses against your neck, “Hah, you’re already this tight?”

He rolls his hips again. 

Slow and greedy. 

Another inch sinks in. The fat head of his cock pushes so deep that the bulge in your stomach becomes obvious, moving with every shallow breath you take.

You’re crying now. Legs shaking uselessly in the air while the ropes bite into your wrists.

“I can’t— I’ve never—”

“You will.”

Your pussy flutters desperately around the invasion, creaming and dripping down his length even as you sob. Rerir groans. Low. Filthy. His claws flex on your hips, yanking you down to meet the next heavy push.

“This is what you owe me.”

He starts fucking you for real then — long, sloooooppy strokes that drag every veined inch through your walls, forcing them to stretch around him whether they want to or not. 

The first real thrust tears a sharp sting through you.

Blood.

A thin trail of red mixes with your slick, smearing down his thick cock as he forces your virgin cunt open for the first time.

The sight makes Rerir shudder so hard you feel it in your bones.

“Fuck…” he groans, voice cracking with something close to reverence. “First time.”

Each pull back has your cunt clinging to him desperately, gushing and creaming down his length like it’s trying to keep him inside.

Every brutal push forward forces another wet schlck out of you, the obscene sound mixing with the faint metallic scent of blood in the air.

You can’t think. 

Can’t even speak. 

Just broken little cries and whimpers every time that fat, roverin’ reddened cockhead plunges between your pussylips and hits dead-set on the back of your cunt — splattering slick, cum, and blood upwards.

Bandaged torso presses flush against you, chest heaving as he drinks in every twitch, every sob, every tear.

“C-can’t wait til ya cum f’me, my girl. First time taking all of me — I want to feel it.”

He leans down, forehead pressed to yours, fangs grazing your lip as he feels your body start to seize again.

He drags his swollen cock all the way back until only the fat tip is teasing your puffy folds, letting you feel every single throb… then slams back in with a wet SCHLORP, bottoming out so deep the bulge in your stomach is obscene.

You bit your lip so hard it bled, tears falling freely from your eyes.

Laughing low and mean, another thrust, even harder, mercilessly bashing in the top of your cervix, so smooth and slick you were - your sure his rude tip has formed a bruise there. 

“Who the fuck leaves a cock this big for some pathetic little fling?” he taunts, voice dripping smug cruelty. “Do you have any idea how many sluts would kill to get split open on something this thick? And you ran far n’ wide just to let some tiny-dicked nobody be your first?”

He punctuates it with a particularly brutal ram that made your cunt gush out more fluids.

Your only coherent thought, floating somewhere above the pain and mind-melting pleasure, is:

He’s really talking shit about my ex… right now? While he’s literally taking my virginity?

Rerir seems to read it on your face, grinning genuinely for the first time in the night. 

“What? Were you actually gonna let that loser pop ya cherry?-” He laughs darkly, hips never stopping their brutal rhythm. “-Cute. Stupid. But don’t worry, baby… I ngh, made the decision for you.”

His hands angled your hips to hit right in that spongy spot inside you, pain and pleasure blurred together as you hiccup and gasp.

“F-FFUCK! RIRI!”

The nickname slips out before you can stop it… Moaning mindlessly, too cockdrunk to realize what you had said, wrists burning from your frantic moving around.

Rerir goes completely still for half a second. 

Then something in his face does something complicated — jaw tight, pink eyes flickering, like you just reached into his chest and squeezed.

His next thrust comes slower. 

Deeper n’ more deliberate.

"T-that’s it." Rough. Barely above a whisper. “Let go f’me.”

Toes curling until it hurts — you cum so hard your vision whites out, mouth in a wide 'o' shape.

Rerir's grinding down your g-spot perfectly, making you go numb with the pleasure of him poking that tight orifice — right before you're bursting into your very first orgasm.

He doesn’t pull away even when you’re sobbing from the overstimulation.

Just keeps grinding that fat cockhead against your cervix like he’s never letting you go again.

Silky ropes of cum pour deep into the back of your pussy — thick, goopy, and endless.

Splashing around every time he fucks his groin inside, collecting right where he keeps pressing like a button he has no intention of releasing.

Being fucked through peak after peak.

Thrust after thrust all targeting that same ruined spot.

When you finally come down, those same pink predatory eyes are staring into your star-struck ones.

And you know with terrifying clarity, that he’s not chasing you a second time.

🔪 VARKA — “Too Much?” 

I’m so mature. 

Varka keeps telling himself that, knuckles white around the rag as he wrings it out over the bucket. 

Pink. Then red. Then clear again.

Methodical. Steady. Same hands that carved through warzones without flinching. Same hands that just turned her little side-piece into red paste across the cabin walls. 

Heh. Mature.

The rag rips clean down the middle.

He stares at the torn halves for half a second, lips twitching. Tosses them aside and grabs a fresh one.

I’m so mature. I’m so mature. I’m so fucking mature.

Three weeks of that bullshit looping in his skull. 

Ever since Kaeya dropped it so casually — she’s seeing someone now. Varka had just nodded, smiled, and gritted out through clenched teeth, ‘Good for her,’ with the straightest face in all of Mondstadt.

Then went home and split a training dummy clean in half.

Now the cabin reeks of iron.

Blood on the walls, floorboards, and blood drying in his blond hair and streaked across his scars. 

And he’s still cleaning...calm as you please.

Because he’s the Grand Master, he doesn’t get jealous.

He's mature.

Footsteps hit the porch — right on time, like clockwork. 

That familiar little rhythm that used to make his chest warm. Now it makes his cock twitch against his thigh like a goddamn animal.

Wringing the new rag, slower now. Blood drips plip… plip… plip into the bucket while his blue eyes flick toward the door.

Frozen in the doorway. Eyes wide. Pretty little mouth falling open at the massacre he made of her ex.

3...2…1

“VARKA WHAT THE HELL!”

Flashing her that same easy, sheepish grin he always gives when he comes home late from a mission.

“Princess-” he drawls “-it’s not what it looks like.”

You’re frozen in the doorway.

The entire cabin is covered in blood. It’s everywhere — walls, floor, even the ceiling.

The smell is so thick it makes your throat close up. 

And there’s Varka. 

On his knees in the middle of it all. Blond hair matted with red. Scars stood out sharply against all the blood. Blue eyes looking up at you with that same easy, friendly expression he always wears. 

He’s casually wiping down his claymore with a rag like he’s cleaning dirt off it after training. 

Your man... or what’s left of him is lying in a heap a few feet away.

He gives you a bashful little smile. “Alright, okay, I know how this looks,” his voice warm and almost playful as he wrings the bloody rag out between his huge hands.

“Things got a little out of hand. I really did try to talk to him first, doll. Swear on my honor. But the guy just wouldn’t listen. Kept going on and on about how he was in love with you and wouldn't leave you…” He lets out a low chuckle, scratching the back of his neck like he’s embarrassed.

“I just didn’t like how obsessed he was getting with you. So… I handled it.”

Why and how the fuck is he so nochalant? Well, of course, violence wasn't new for him since he is the grandmaster...but this was insane!

This psycho literally killed your boyfriend, and for what?!-

Your eyes darted from him to the mangled corpse a few feet away then back at Varka, him catching your stare and chuckling at your expression.

That was until your knees started to buckle, and the world began to blur as the familiar feelings of danger banged in your head.

This is exactly why you left him.

The man can stand in a room full of someone else’s blood and talk to you like he just spilled juice on the carpet.

You thought if you left, he would've gotten better- you were so wrong.

You stumbled a bit, the faint deja vu of stress reeling in.

Varka notices immediately. His blue eyes widen. “Ah, doll—wait, don’t!—”

Your vision goes black before you even hit the floor.

.

.

🔪

SCHLCK! SCHLORP! SCHLCK!

He’s got you folded in half before you even wake up.

Strong forearms hooked all tight n’ draaaaagging them upwards- the moment your pussy’s smeared all open, it’s letting out the most lecherous squelch!

Your back plastered to his sweat-slick chest, pussy spread obscenely wide and already drooling all over his thick cock.

The moment he spears back in — SCHLCK! — your eyes snap open on a broken wail.

“NGHH… FUH—?!”

Varka groans low against your ear, chin digging into the crook of your neck so he can watch the way your poor cunt stretches around him. 

Every brutal upward thrust makes your tits bounce, makes more of that gooey white cum he already pumped into you earlier splatter out in messy little bursts.

“Fuuuull fuckin’ Nelson,” he pants, hoarse and delighted. “There she is. There’s my good girl.”

He rocks you on his cock like you weigh nothing.

Huge hands locked behind your head, forcing you to look down at the obscene sight your puffy folds split wide, his fat, veiny length disappearing into you over and over, creamy ring of cum and slick coating his base.

Your walls flutter desperately around his girth, clenching, milking, trying to push him out and pull him deeper all at once.

Legs tremble uselessly in the air. You can’t kick or twist. Can’t do anything but take it.

“V-Varka— what?—are you AH! doing?!!”

He chuckles warmly and unhinged. Another mean thrust, cockhead bullying straight into your cervix. 

“You passed out on me, princess. Looked so fuckin’ distressed. Figured this woulda helped wake n’ cheer ya up.”

SCHLORP! 

Your cunt squelches obscenely with every slam. Slick sprays. His balls slap wet against your ass.

PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!

He’s huffing against your temple now, hips never slowing. 

You sputtered, “FUH- hah! please- this is- ngh- too much!”

“Too much?” His forearms flex harder beneath your knees, yanking you down another inch so his cock grinds mean against your cervix. “Princess, I just redecorated the whole damn cabin for ya and yer tellin’ me this is too much?”

You sob again, voice hoarse, head lolling against his sweat-slick shoulder, trying to calm him down like you used to do before.

“Y-You killed him- we can’t just! fuck— okay, o-okay, slow down, talk to me— we can fix t-this!—”

The word “fix” makes something in him snap clean in half.

He groans way more animalistic than before.

Teeth sinking into the side of your neck as he grinds his cock in deep, swollen tip kissing your cervix over and over like he’s trying to knock it open.

“Fix?” His voice is hoarse now. Shaky. That warm Grand Master tone is completely gone. “There’s nothing to fix. Yer mine, always have been. That pathetic fuck thought he could have ya, and I handled it.”

“I’m bein’ so mature about this,” Varka grits out, teeth clenched so hard you hear them click.

One brutal thrust punches the air out of you.

“So fuckin’ mature. Could’ve killed ya too the second you ran off with that nobody. Could’ve snapped yer pretty neck and kept ya here forever.”

That made you whimper, realizing he still could do it with the way he gripped your head.

His hips are pistoning harder, cock buried deep in your stomach battering it over, and over and over-

“But I didn’t. I was good. I waited. I cleaned up my mess like a big boy and now yer cryin’ and beggin’ me to slow down?”

Every word gets more feral.

Every time you try to talk Varka down, he fucks you harder, like he’s punishing you for even suggesting he’s out of control.

You whimper, tears spilling hot down your cheeks. “I-I’m sorry— please just talk to me; we don’t have to—”

He cuts you off with a broken moan that sounds halfway between a laugh and a sob. 

“Talk?” The word comes out shaky n’ unstable. “Ya really want me to talk while this pussy’s squeezin’ me so good? While you’re still drippin’ down my balls after I killed for you?”

His thrusts turn punishing. Short, deep, cervix-kissing jabs that make your vision spark white.

“I’m so mature. I’m so mature. I’m so mature. I’m so mature. I’m so mature. I’m so— fuckin’ mature—”

The mantra is falling apart. His voice is cracking. That easy smile you loved is gone, replaced by something wild and teeth-bared and terrifyingly fond.

You try one last time, voice small and trembling between moans.

“Ok look Varka… you’re scaring me—”

He buries his face in your neck, blond hair tickling your skin, and you feel his lips pull into a grin against your pulse.

“Good.”

Because he is scaring you.

And that fact alone has his cock throbbing so hard inside you it hurts.

You left him weeks ago.

Packed a bag in the middle of the night while he was out on some Grand Master bullshit. 

Left nothing but a note that said you couldn’t do it anymore; the hovering, overprotectiveness, it all felt suffocating. 

You ran.

He let you.

Told himself he was being mature. That if you needed space, he’d give it. 

That the Grand Master of Mondstadt doesn’t chase. Doesn’t obsess. Doesn’t break.

Cause’ he’s handling it well!

Now here you are.

Folded in half in his arms like a fucking rag doll. Pussy gushing and fluttering and creaming all over the cock that just painted your ex across every surface of this cabin.

And you’re still trying to talk him down.

“You left me a note, princess. A fucking note. While I was out keeping Mondstadt safe. And the whole time I was tellin’ myself I was bein’ so goddamn mature.”

He shifted justttt enough to look at your face — eyes wild, pupils blown wide with obsession.

“Look at me. Being reasonable.”

His next thrust is so deep you completely went limp. "OHHH SHIT!-" Your eyes crossed, mouth slack.

SCHLORP—!

Thick ropes of fresh cum flood your insides without warning.

Hot. Endless. He doesn’t stop moving.

Just keeps grinding through his orgasm, fucking every last drop deeper while your own high crashes into you like a freight train.

You sob his name, orgasm crashing through, thighs violently shaking in the air.

Cunt clenching and gushing around him as he fills you past the point of overflowing, dripping down his cock to his balls.

Varka just holds you there. Folded. Full. His.

Pressing a slow, almost tender kiss to your tear-streaked cheek, blood from his face smearing against your skin.

“So glad I didn’t hafta kill ya princess,” he nuzzles into your neck chuckling lowly.

“Cause if I can’t have ya no one will.”

a/n: im glad they didn’t overreact 😌

♡ 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 ♡