#genshin chubby

[sxcaramouchex]

Wriothesley x chubby reader

a/n: I had a really plump reader in mind while writing it but it works if you're just slightly chubby as well! It's basically just Wriothesley worshipping your soft belly. Enjoy!!

Warnings: gender neutral reader + no pronouns, chubby reader, belly worship, slightly suggestive but no smut.

Wriothesley loves your plump body, especially your belly. The way it jiggles when you walk, how beautifully it folds into many rolls when you sit down and how much it wobbles when you lie down as well. To you it may look like a flaw but to him, it's a work of art.

You were laying down on your king sized bed, dressed in a comfortable attire when Wriothesley came back from work. Your outfit showed your fatty belly, each roll was displayed for him to see. You weren't really embarrassed about it, it was obvious that he loved your body, so why hide it? Your plump thighs were also visible in shorts you were wearing. Wrio climbed on the bed and grabbed a handful of your belly fat, making you whine.

"Hmm?~ you don't even bother to hide all this chub anymore...good.. very good." He chuckled and ran a hand across your stomach, making the rolls ripple and bounce.

"Well you seem to like my belly..." You said while blushing a little.

"I love your belly, it's so soft..." He buried his head in your belly fat, moaning softly.

"Ah?! Wrio??" You tried to suck in your belly but Wriothesley groaned and started kissing your soft rolls.

"Let it hang and jiggle freely, I love it." He nibbled on one particularly fat roll and started exploring in-between folds with his fingers.

"It's so soft and comfortable to touch...I wouldn't mind if you gained even more my sweetheart~"

You chuckled and kissed his lips. It was so nice having someone who adores your belly so much.

"Then show me how much you like my belly..." You straddled his lap and let your belly fat hang down, swaying just above his toned abdomen.

You felt him squeeze your plump love handles. "I'll make sure to worship it properly~

#genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin chubby #genshin impact x chubby reader #chubby reader #genshin impact #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x chubby reader #wriothesley x you #belly worship #genshin impact chubby #fluff #wriothesley fluff #gender neutral reader #genshin impact x y/n #wriothesley x y/n

[bwabys-scenarios]

NSFW

He enjoyed the little gasp you would let out when his hand slipped under your skirt while eating dinner with an acquaintance. Your cheeks would grow hot with embarrassment when they would ask you what was wrong, and you were forced to say it was nothing while his thumb rubbed circles into your clit.

You grasped the table cloth, biting your lip when he began fingering you. It was unfair how calm he looked while his fingers were knuckle deep inside of your cunt, curling up to hit that special spot that had you cumming all over his hand.

“P-please excuse me…”

You shyly stood, hoping that your slick was visible as it ran down your legs, speed walking to the bathroom to clean yourself up.

As you pouted and splashed your face to help lesson the heat taking over you body, you didn’t notice him sneaking into the bathroom until he was bending you over and pushing your panties to the side.

“I hate how they look at you…” he muttered, rubbing his cock against your needy cunt. “They need to know who you belong to.”

Without warning he thrusted into you, groaning into your ear as his hips rutted against yours. He was jealous and a bit possessive over you, his princess. He couldn’t stand when people stared at you for too long with their lustful gazes. Didn’t they know you were his?

Your makeup ran down your face, tears of pleasure falling down your cheeks as he turned your head so he could capture your lips in a sloppy kiss.

“Mine, all mine, got that?”

You nodded and let out a mewl when he hit that special spot, and he continued to fuck into you until he painted your walls white, leaving you a panting mess, covered in sweat and cum.

He was nice enough to carry you home without anyone seeing the fucked out state you were in, and made sure to spoil you with kisses, snuggles, and snacks once you were alone.

He loved you after all, and would make sure his pretty princess was well taken care of! 💗

————————

||GOJO |||GETO ||NANAMI ||TOJI ||CHOSO ||SUKUNA ||CHROLLO ||ILLUMI || KURAPIKA ||BLADE ||AVENTURINE ||WRIOTHESLEY ||KAEYA || DILUC ||ZHONGLI ||SANEMI ||RENGOKU ||MUZAN ||YOUR FAV

#gojo x reader #geto x reader #choso x reader #nanami x reader #toji x reader #sukuna x reader #chrollo x reader #illumi x reader #kurapika x reader #blade x reader #wriothesely x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #sanemi x reader #rengoku x reader #muzan x reader #hsr imagines #hsr x reader #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #hxh x reader #kny imagines #kny x reader #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #anime x chubby reader #fem!reader #female reader #aventurine x reader

[wri0thesley]

eyes - neuvillette x reader (8.5k)

you have always known, one day, you would be married off to someone not of your choosing. but you certainly never expected it to be the iudex himself.

cw: not sfw text. explicitly chubby virgin reader, some insecurity, arranged marriage. double dick neuvillette, cunnilingus, bathing together. reader is afab but referred to with neutral pronouns.

this was a commissioned work.

There are certain standards one must follow as a child of Fontainian society; certain things that are expected of you. A certain way to speak and move and act - a set of rules that have been laid out clearly for you since the day you were born. You will know which fork to use at which mealtime. You will know the difference between what is appropriate to wear to a matinee and to an evening show. You will trust your elders to guide you, and you will be grateful for the life that they have oh-so-painstakingly laid out. 

So you are not surprised when your mother tells you that you are to be wed. 

You have even been expecting it. Since you became of a marriageable age, you have looked at all of the other children of society and wondered what kind of match your family might make. One of your own generation? Older, perhaps - more secure in their wealth and their status and position? You have even laughed about it with your friends, when you were out of earshot of all of your elders - discussing who would be the worst options, gossiping about who has had who over for tea recently. 

She’s surprisingly tight-lipped about who you’re going to wed, too. That’s not unexpected either, though it does make anxiety roil hot and sour in your gut. Plenty of children have run away from home so as not to be wed to somebody decades and decades their senior, or somebody with a reputation for cruelty - or sometimes even because the match that has been made has not taken into account a love affair unbeknownst to the elders of the family. 

You have no such love affair to romantically dash off into the sunset with; you have been a good and dutiful child your whole life. And though you do, perhaps, wish that you could know what it was like to have a love so fiery and passionate you would disobey the only life you’ve ever known . . . you have come to accept that will not be your lot in life. 

You have even worried once or twice that somebody, upon finding that they were engaged to you, might wish to run away. You have looked in the mirror and scrutinised your face, your posture, your body - a body that has fallen out of fashion recently, the beauty ideal in Fontaine being very much ‘look as much like Lady Furina as possible’. It is your body, though - and it has stood you in good stead, and the night in which you are finally to meet your betrothed your mother and your maid stand in your bedroom looking approvingly at how your gown falls over the soft peaks and curves of your hips and chest. 

All you know about this person who you are to be wedded to is that every time your family talks of them, they can barely hide the smiles on their faces and the superior lilt to their tone. Whatever match has been made for you . . . they are utterly ecstatic about it. 

“I think he’ll be more than pleased,” your mother says, tugging at a fold of fabric - she had chosen to have this dress made in pale blue, though it is not a colour that has been in your wardrobe before. A man, then; a well-placed man who makes your family giddy with excitement - a man partial to the colour blue and a spouse whose figure runs more to curves than lines. 

It is not a lot to go on. 

So you do not know what to expect, as you are brought down the stairs and into the dining room. All kinds of thoughts dance through your head; some pleasant, some . . . not so. You know that you will meekly accept what you have been given, the way you have been brought up to do - and it is not lost on you that the trajectory of tonight will perhaps influence your life for years and years to come. There is always the chance that, seeing you in person, your parent’s intended will reject you--

Your mind is churning at a hundred thoughts a minute as you step inside the dining room - but when you see who is seated at the head of the table, all of those thoughts seem to clatter to the ground at once. 

It is a wonder that your mouth does not drop open. 

In all of the time you have spent gossiping about possible matches in society, nobody has ever mentioned - even off-handedly - the possibility that the Chief Justice of Fontaine may be looking to marry. 

But there sits Monsieur Neuvillette - a little awkward, yes (he is being chattered to most insistently by your father), but straight and tall and handsome in his chair, his robes of office perfectly pressed, his face schooled carefully into a polite look of vague interest. Your mother coughs, and he looks up--

And his eyes, the colour of the evening sky or a perfect sapphire, widen just a touch. His mouth opens, the barest amount - and you swear that as his gaze sweeps over your form in your carefully chosen blue dress (a choice you are beginning to understand), he visibly swallows. 

“Ah,” he says, and he stands - walking towards you, bending and inclining his head. “It’s a pleasure to . . . finally meet you in person.” You’re still rather stunned speechless by everything that is happening - you cannot help but feel as though things are happening around you, and not to you - but as Neuvillette uses one of his gloved hands to take yours and to press a lingering kiss on your palm that makes your entire body feel as though it is on fire, you are suddenly all too aware of just what is going on. “You look radiant tonight.”

“M-Monsieur,” you say in return, and you sweep what must be the clumsiest curtsey of your life. “I . . . I have to admit that this is a surprise.” 

“Not an unwelcome one,” your mother puts in before he can respond. “Of course, we’re delighted with this match, and we’re absolutely sure you’ll be delighted with them--”

“I understand,” Neuvillette says, his eyes not leaving you. “If I may be frank with you, until recently I had never thought to marry.” 

Questions rise in your throat. If he had not thought to marry, why was he doing it now? And why you, when surely he must see the upper echelons of society every single day? What had brought him to your family’s door, asking after your hand over everyone else he must have had first pick of? But these are not polite questions for the dinner table, when your mother and your father are already ushering the two of you to your seats beside one another and beaming so brightly that it hurts to look at them. 

The dinner table is a place for light, polite conversation; the last opera you saw, the weather. Neuvillette smiles into his wine glass - a glass you notice is filled with water - when you mention that it has not seemed to rain much recently. You notice him looking at you every so often, over rims of glasses and delicate bites of foods . . . but you know that you, too, cannot help but sneak a glance at the Iudex of Fontaine seated by your side. 

Your future husband! Your betrothed! The man you will spend the rest of your life with! 

As much as you may wish for a moment alone with him, you know it is not proper; so when he stands and kisses your hand again and your father takes Neuvillette into his study to hash out some further details of your impending nuptials, you swallow your disappointment and remind yourself that you will have years with Neuvillette, to learn his secrets - to discover why he has decided to take you as a spouse. 

There is little time for getting to know one another beyond the most surface of levels when a marriage has been arranged for you - there is even littler time when the man you are going to marry is one of the most powerful and busiest men in Fontaine. Even the few times you see each other as the wedding looms closer - the period your parents optimistically refer to as ‘courting’ - there is little time to get to know his heart. 

You realise, at the final fitting for your wedding clothes, that the first time you will be truly alone with the man who is to be your husband will be the night of your wedding. 

And that particular thought . . . 

You know the ways of the world. You know what will be expected of you, in order to properly consummate a marriage - you know that you will be intimate with Neuvillette for years to come. But the idea that the first time that the two of you will be able to snatch time with one another with no parents or gossip-mongers or anybody else around will also be the time in which you and he will legally become one (and you know, from experience at the Opera Epiclese, that Neuvillette is nothing if not a stickler for the law) . . . oh, it is enough to make you reconsider one last time running away from your responsibilities. 

“Mother?” You ask, your voice quiet, the night before your wedding. You have spent the entire day overseeing flowers and being asked questions, watching the cooks and the waiters bring in fine delicacies from all over Teyvat (Neuvillette had not wanted hosting duties; you get the impression that as long as the ceremony was done legally, he would be pleased enough to call you his spouse. But your parents have been preparing for this your whole life, so they had indeed wanted the spectacle of their child marrying the most powerful man in Fontaine. With no family to speak of, he had acquiesced to their desires. Your parents are in shivers of delight that Lady Furina will, too, grace the halls of your family home). “What if . . . what if I do not please him?”

You are sitting before your dressing table, in your sleeping robe, haunted by thoughts of all of the things that could go wrong whilst your mother double checks your wedding gown and the jewellery you are to wear tomorrow. She looks over at you - her face is normally hard, but as she sees the knit of your brow and the bite of your teeth into your lip, she sighs softly. 

“You have nothing to worry about,” she says, stroking your cheek. “The Iudex asked for you specifically.” You blink at her, wide-eyed, and she laughs a soft little laugh. “Don’t let it get to your head, now; they have been badgering him to marry for some time . . . but he did ask for you, out of all of the people he could have had. So take heart in that. Do you think him a foolish man?”

“No,” you shake your head, your voice a soft whisper. You suppose that Neuvillette is many things, but ‘foolish’ would not be one that would cross your mind. 

“There. You and he are going to have a happy life together.” A sly look steals over her face. “Ah . . . are you worried about the wedding night itself?”

“Mama!”

“It’s something we all go through, my dear.” She catches your chin in her hand and smiles at you, and for a moment, despite all of the times you have disliked her for the life you have been forced into . . . you are reminded that she is your mother, and she wants this to work just as much as you do. “Do not be frightened of him. Do not be overwhelmed by him. He has chosen you to be his equal, but he will not expect too much of you. I promise . . . everything is going to be fine.” She gives you a wink. “And if I were you, and were to marry a man who looked like the Chief Justice - why, I’d be positively thrilling with excitement at the thought of my wedding night!”

“Mama!” This time, your scandalised tone brings her out in peals of laughter, and she kisses the top of your head as she leaves the bedroom. The door clicks behind her. 

Your final night in your childhood room; your final night unmarried. One last slumber amongst your own silken pillows and sheets (what kind of bed, you wonder, does the Chief Justice sleep in?). 

That night, you dream of a sea that churns with a similar anxiety to the one that you feel in your own belly. 

The morning of your wedding day, it is raining. Your family fuss over it, but as you stand at your window with people running all about you, messing with your hair and rearranging your dress and having arguments about your bouquet, you cannot help but find it comforting to watch the rain fall in droplets, stopping and starting again, mirroring your own still-nervous heart. 

You think you will falter at the last hurdle, as you stand outside of the Opera Epiclese - normally a place of theatricals, but also a place of the law, and the place that the most important part of your wedding day will occur - and take a deep breath ready to start your new life. The bouquet in your hands is full of rainbow roses and romaritime flowers, bursting with colour; you are grateful to have it to hold on to, as the doors are thrown open and you walk slowly down the aisle of the theatre. 

Your eyes desperately seek out someone who will provide you an ounce of comfort in the crowd, all peering at you curiously to see the person who has finally tamed the Chief Justice. This is a spectacle as much as a wedding, you suppose; and as you see some people whisper behind their hands, you wonder if you have been found wanting. You bite your lip hard to stop yourself crying - and then, onstage, his hands clasped over his cane, your gaze finds Neuvillette himself. 

The patter of the rain on the roof of the Opera stops all at once. For a moment, you swear everything falls silent, as you and he look at each other. 

Slowly, his mouth breaks into a small, secret smile, and the buzz of whispering intensifies - but that smile is enough to steady you. To remind you he has been nothing but kind and polite. To whisper to you that perhaps this union is a thing to look forward to, and not to be feared. 

He looks as handsome as ever; his suit perfectly-pressed, his hair streaming in a neat silver white tail behind him. There are flowers that have been braided into it; and you see, as you ascend the stairs to the stage, that there are a group of Melusines sitting in the front rows with matching little bouquets of Lumidouce bells grasped in their little hands, beaming up at the Iudex. 

Lady Furina presides over the proceedings, tossing her hair and preening and holding the audience in the palm of her hand - another reminder that theatrics are more respected than the law in a land like Fontaine. But you cannot bring yourself to mind too much - not when Neuvillette’s smile is steady, his eyes trained on you the whole time. Not when, as he repeats the words in a clear voice like a ringing bell, he whispers them again as if they are only for you. Not when he takes his bare hands - ungloved, for the exchange of the rings - and holds your own, soft and round and dimpled, as he slides the ring onto your finger as if you are the most delicate thing in the world. 

When Furina - with more glee in her voice than you would have expected - announces that he may now kiss you, you feel your shoulders draw up in anxiety. The entire audience goes quiet, waiting with baited breath for this - as if it is one of the things they have been waiting for all day. Neuvillette, though, keeps his gaze on you. He acts as though there are not a thousand Fontainian citizens watching your every move - slowly, he places his arm around your waist and draws you closer to him, so close that the crowds seem to melt away and there is nobody but the two of you. 

“You look beautiful, by the way,” he murmurs into your ear, angling his head so that the crowd cannot see that he has said something that is only for the two of you (no doubt they would be baying to be privy to the marriage bed, if they thought they could get away with it) - and then, his lips brush against yours. They are cool and soft; the lightest tang of sea-salt remains on your own after he is done. The crowd roars with their approval as he steps back and bows to you, pressing his forehead to the back of your hand - and you stand there, trembling, excited and nervous and frightened and on display all at once, as your new husband takes you by the hand and gently, gently leads you back down one of the aisles of the opera, out to the waiting carriages to spirit you away from the spectacle of the opera house and into the spectacle that your parents have designed as a celebration. 

As it turns out, it is not so bad. Your parents have understood, at the very least, that the two of you will be retiring early to Neuvillette’s residence (your trunks already packed, already loaded onto a carriage to be delivered in the next few days). They have managed to rein themselves in; only invite the most important echelons of society to this celebration, despite the luxury and the excess that has been coming into the house for weeks now. 

So you bow to Lady Furina and accept her compliments with a stutter and hot cheeks, Neuvillette by your side, his steadying hand on your waist. Neuvillette expertly manages to weave around your family’s ballroom as if he has been doing it all his life - but then, remembering how much older he is than you, you suppose that he has been doing it at least as long as you have been alive. He has a remarkable way of remaining polite, yet not brokering too much room for small talk and gossip, as if he can tell that this kind of thing is not your favourite. 

You overhear, when you have been spirited away from your husband’s side for ten minutes by some of your friends, an older couple accosting Neuvillette. 

“You had all of the choice in the world,” the man says, poking Neuvillette in the centre of his chest - from the slur in his words, you think he may have partaken in a touch too much of your parent’s imported dandelion wine. “Whyever did you make this one?”

Your heart stutters in your chest; a trickle of sweat rolls down the back of your wedding gown. This is what you have been fearful of, this whole time - you being found wanting, you being seen as not good enough for Neuvillette--

But your new husband merely smiles. 

“I have eyes,” he says, mildly, and he turns away from the couple and brings an end to the conversation that you know must leave them utterly blistering. He comes to find you, instead - apologising most profusely to your friends for having to steal you away. 

You stay for as short a time as you can manage, with the congratulations and the toasts and the speeches (a Melusine or two makes a speech for Neuvillette; you much prefer their simple honesty to some of the awful gushing things that come from the mouths of connections of your parents who have never given much care to you before), with the cake being cut--

“Here,” Neuvillette murmurs, and your cheeks go hot as he feeds you a bite of his own slice from the same fork he has been using. “I must confess that this is rather too sweet for me.” 

By the time that Neuvillette begins to make his excuses, bowing and smiling and thanking his hosts and the guests, the moon is already hanging white and plump in the black velvet of the night - and as you say goodbye to your parents, your Mama gives you a wink that makes you go hot all over. 

Neuvillette’s residence is surprisingly unassuming; it is smaller than your parents house, and he does not employ half as many maids or staff. For a moment, his gaze flitters over to you, and you sense a nervousness in the air. 

“I am sorry if it is not what you were expecting,” he says, voice clipped - but you shake your head, and try and let some of the anxiety drain from your tight shoulders. 

“It’s lovely,” you say, firmly, as he helps you out of the carriage. This time, when his gloved hand - he has chosen to put his gloves back on, his wedding ring glinting over the black satin - touches your waist, you gasp. The frisson of promise that runs through the touch makes you feel dizzy with possibility. Neuvillette looks at you with those dark sapphire eyes of his, and murmurs;

“I apologise if you’re nervous. I have no wish to . . . make you do anything you don’t want to. I am more than willing to wait-- the law does not require we consummate directly on our wedding night, and if you are frightened--”

A drop of rain lands on your cheek. 

“No,” you breathe out, all in a rush, surprised to find it falling from your lips as you say it. But then you think of his lingering kiss, of the way he shut down that couple at the wedding reception, of that private smile he had given you to soothe your fears as you walked down the aisle, and you’re even more surprised to find that you mean it. “Not at all. I-- I am nervous, but . . .”

He gives you another soft, gentle smile that makes your heart feel ready to burst out of your chest. The raindrop you had felt has no companions; simply a freak occurrence in the weather. 

“I must admit,” he murmurs, as he helps you towards his front door. “I am very pleased to hear that. I hope you won’t find it remiss of me to admit that I have been . . . rather looking forward to it.”

Your cheeks go hot again. The idea of Neuvillette, imagining you like that, even waiting for it . . . it is hard not to find it at once flattering and embarrassing. Neuvillette opens the door for you, but as you go to step inside--

“Ah, just a moment--” He leans his cane against the front door, and reaches for you. “I’m aware there’s a custom about bringing one’s new spouse over the threshold, and I would hate to break tradition--”

“You don’t have to,” you say, stuttering on the words. “I’m not light--”

But Neuvillette has already reached for you, already wrapped a surprisingly strong arm about your waist - and before you know it, as if he hasn’t needed to exert any energy at all, you have been pulled into his hold, held like a princess being rescued by a knight. 

You look up at him, and he looks down at you, his smile soft once more. 

“You feel perfectly light in my arms,” he tells you, as he steps over the threshold with you and gently places you down as softly and carefully as he had picked you up. You were not expecting the strength from him - he wears his robes of office, of course, and he certainly has the height, but there’s a kind of willowiness about him that does not exactly betray him being able to do such a thing. 

(If he can do that, a wicked little voice in your head whispers, imagine what else he could do to you - how easily he could manipulate you in a more intimate moment--)

It’s almost as if he can read your mind. He laughs a clear, silvery laugh like the rushing of a river. 

“Shall I show you to our bedchambers?” He asks you. “I’m sure you’ll want to get all of your finery off soon; it looks rather heavy. If you are not opposed . . . perhaps we may bathe together?”

Your heart, beating double time in your chest. Neuvillette’s eyes, cool and calm. The way your blood seems to sing in your veins. You smile back at him. 

“I would like that very much.”

Neuvillette’s house may not be as extravagant as expected, but the bathroom more than makes up for it - and most of all, the bathtub set into the floor, as wide as a swimming pool. He sees your look of surprise and laughs, sounding for once a little embarrassed.

“I enjoy being able to relax in water - natural water most of all,” he tells you, “but it would be rather . . . scandalous, if an ordinary citizen were to find me unexpectedly. This is my compromise. One of my vices, you may say.”

As vices go, it is a tame one, and you look at the bathtub - already full of clear water, so you can see the mosaic tiles on the bottom (the tub itself is stepped, so one can simply sit and relax at one end or perhaps even use the other end to swim a few strokes). 

“I loved to swim when I was little,” you say, wistfully. “As I got older, my parents thought the idea of me wearing my swim clothes too often was improper, but . . .”

“Well,” Neuvillette says, placing his hands upon your hips with only the lightest of pressure as if he is still too afraid to touch you too much. “You are welcome to use this bathroom for swimming whenever you wish. It is not quite the same, of course, but I want nothing more than you to be happy here. What’s mine is yours now, sweet one.”

It’s the first pet name he has used for you, and it makes your mouth go dry. Slowly, you turn towards him. You are about to be naked together, you suppose - even if you are going to bathe before anything more intimate happens - so you ought to be braver. You reach for his face, palms warm on his cheeks - and though his eyes flash in surprise, he gladly leans in to let you kiss him. 

This time, you let the kiss linger for longer; this private moment in the sanctity of a home that is to be shared between you. He sighs into your mouth and pulls you closer himself, so as you cradle his face his palms rest upon the ample curve of your hip. His teeth tug, almost shyly, at your bottom lip - and you feel your lashes flutter, your heart give an answering skip in your chest. His tongue traces the seam of your mouth and you part your lips, allowing him to take you as he wants - but even this ‘taking’ is done slowly, carefully, like a man who wishes to savour you. 

You pull back, your breath coming in soft little gasps - Neuvillette’s eyes are half-lidded, but it does not stop him smiling at you, putting you at ease. 

“We ought to disrobe,” he tells you, kindly - and he gently motions for you to turn, so that he may work at the difficult laces and hooks of your bridal outfit. You feel a little shy, as the fabric pools around your ankles, and you are left bare - but then he is turning you around, and in his eyes you see something that must be close to worship. 

“I am a man who says what I mean,” he tells you, tilting your chin upward toward him. “I have not spared your ego, little one - everything I see before me is . . .” He shakes his head, letting loose a ragged breath, more undone than you’ve seen him before. “More than I could ever have asked for.” One gloved finger trails across your lips, tracing a patch from the corner of your mouth down to your throat, your collarbone - reaching behind you to unclip your undergarments, so they fall to the ground with your gown. “You’re truly the loveliest creature.” 

“I--”

He shakes his head, smiling still. 

“Perhaps in my choice of a spouse,” he murmurs, “I let my own desires overtake me a touch . . . but ah, if you could see yourself the way I see you--”

You hesitantly hook your thumbs into your underwear and stand before him, naked completely - and you win, for your bravery, another ragged breath. 

“I must warn you,” Neuvillette murmurs, as he reaches for his own collar and begins to unbutton, to untie, to work the trappings of his own outfit off of himself. “You may be . . . surprised.”

“By what?” You feel brave enough to give him a little smile, though your heart is still beating faster than you’ve ever felt it. “Am I to discover you have been hiding extra limbs?”

Neuvillette’s gaze does not falter. 

“Something like that,” he agrees, mildly, as he slips his shirt and coat from his shoulders. His skin is milky pale in the moonlight streaming in from a window set high in the wall, his hair glimmering silver. He takes your breath away. 

Who would have thought you would ever find yourself in this position with the Chief Justice of Fontaine? 

He unbuttons his placket slowly - and as he carefully works down the fabric of his trousers, you realise exactly what it was he was warning you about. 

“I hope I do not disappoint you,” he says, as your mouth falls open at the sight of his cocks; resting one atop another, both half-swollen already. Your mouth goes dry at the thought of your wedding night, still to come. “I assure you, I know exactly what to do with them.” 

“I--I didn’t mean to--!” Your voice comes out a little panicked - but then, Neuvillette lets out a soft huff of laughter. 

“It’s quite alright,” he tells you. “But I will reiterate; I will not hurt you. You are . . . more than welcome to touch. But if we do not get in soon, I fear the water will have gone cold.” 

Neuvillette helps you into the bath, surprisingly unashamed of his own nakedness. At the press of his body against yours as he helps you down the steps inlaid into the tub, you feel his cocks jump against you, the wet smear of something against the dip of your back - but then, Neuvillette is lowering himself into the water beside you and letting loose a sigh of pure bliss that sends a coil of heat spiralling to between your thighs. 

You have never partaken in the gossip that surrounds Neuvillette, about his pointed ears or his inhumanly lovely face or his age - you would never have expected what he is hiding in his trousers. But as you sit beside your new husband, you cannot help but feel as though it makes perfect sense - a man like him could not be ordinary. And you trust him when he tells you he will not hurt you; when he says he knows what he’s doing, you think of all of the time he has on you and you have to suppress a shiver of desire for what he may have to teach you. 

He touches you, as the two of you bathe together. Lets his fingers massage the shampoo into your hair, lets his hands slide the washcloth over the contours of your body until you can barely breathe for the hot trails of fire that he leaves in his wake. You do not think he means to inflame you so - but then, he allows you to do the same thing to him, and he shudders and leans back into your touch, a soft noise almost like a purr falling from the back of his throat, and he realises exactly what bathing together is doing to you both. 

Still. The two of you linger there; touching one another. Getting to know one another’s bodies without any fear, for beneath the water all is muffled and calm. His fingers learn the shape of your nipples when he pinches them, how they pucker and harden beneath him. His palms learn the weight of your breasts, heavy and ample in his hands. His mouth learns the taste of your shoulders, as he drops hot, wet kisses across the span of them, the nape of your neck. And in return you feel the silkiness of his hair, the softness of his skin, the feel of his corded muscle beneath his deceptively slender frame. 

By the time the two of you are wrapped in fluffy towels the colour of an early morning sky, you are both hot with want. Neuvillette’s twin cocks seem to pulse with his desire; you can no longer tell if you are slick and wet from the bath or from the space between your thighs. You shyly look at one another through lowered lashes, though, as the wedding night and all it entails comes closer and closer and closer. 

“It’s a beautiful night,” you say to him, when the two of you have finally entered the bedroom. Neuvillette’s window is open a crack, enough so that the lacy curtains flutter in the light night-time breeze. “You would hardly think it’s been raining on and off all day.”

“Mmm,” Neuvillette agrees, as you feel him come up behind you. He slowly takes your hands, encouraging you to drop the towel; and then you stand before him, naked again, but with something far more than a bath in your future. He leans in and presses a kiss to the sensitive place where your neck and shoulder meet, just barely grazing it with surprisingly sharp teeth. “I should not wonder if it doesn’t rain again for some time.”

Neuvillette leads you to the bed, his hand firmly around yours. He is unerringly gentle and patient with you, as he urges you to sit upon the bedcovers - and your breath catches when you do as he asks, and instead of joining you he sinks onto his knees. You have never thought to imagine the Chief Justice kneeling before you, and the sight of it makes you buzz all over in anticipation. He smiles at your unsurety - and leans in, pressing a kiss to your knee, gently urging you to spread your thighs for him. His gloves are stripped away, but his wedding ring gleams on his finger as his fingers sink into the soft, full skin of your thigh. 

He leans in, pressing another kiss to the side of your knee. Higher, higher, higher he trails them - and his breath fans cool against your heated core, and your fingers clench into the bedsheets in surprise at what he might be about to do. 

“Don’t be afraid,” he murmurs to you, his cheek pressing silky against your skin, as he suckles a love-bite into the part where your leg meets your pelvis. “I merely want to ensure you’re adequately prepared.”

“Y-you don’t need to,” you say, breathless, hot, embarrassed and needy all at once. This is an act of such intimacy, you do not know how to parse the thought of the Iudex doing it to you - but he gives you a smile that is not without a hint of fang, the wickedest look you have seen upon his face so far, and he reaches between the two of you to use his thumb to pull apart the lips of your sex so you are revealed to him. 

“Oh,” he breathes. “But I want to, sweet one. And . . . looking at how wet you are for me, I daresay you want me to do so too.”

“M-Monsieur--”

“Neuvillette,” he murmurs, and he presses a kiss directly onto your sex, slick and wet with your own excitement, his nose brushing across the swollen nub of your clit. “Use my name.”

“Neuvillette--” It comes out rather thin and reedy, but Neuvillette does not seem to notice - instead, he seems rather preoccupied by what lies between your thighs. Your fingers tighten when you feel his tongue slide across you, gathering your slick upon the tip. There’s a strange quality to it, almost as if it is longer and firmer than a human tongue ought to be - and as he flickers his tip over your clit, again and again and again, and you shudder from the sensations he draws forth . . . you wonder if, too, his tongue is forked--

Thoughts quickly dissipate from your head when there is a man knelt between your thighs, though, and it is no different for you. The wondering is quickly chased away by the hungry way that Neuvillette laps at you, like a man who has been parched for water for months. 

Through it, he urges you to part your thighs as wide as you can, so that he can more thoroughly attack you with his tongue - and with every stroke, with every suck and lick and groan of him against you, you feel a knot tighten in your stomach in a way you have never experienced. It is like his mouth is a match, setting fire to your core - despite how you can feel wetness dripping down you, onto his bedcovers, surely soaking his chin and his lips. 

He does something with his tongue - a twirl, a flourish - and his name comes spilling out of your lips like a prayer, and the idea that he may at some point stop using his mouth on you flashes across your synapses like a tragedy. Without realising you’re doing it, you move one hand to grip his silvery hair, to keep him anchored against you - you realise, too, that it is not merely his name spilling out of you like an overturned wineglass. Pleas and whimpers and begging have joined the fray, and you would ordinarily cringe at being thought so wanting. But with Neuvillette’s mouth, with the promise of what he is trying to wring from you--

Shame seems unimportant compared to the way he shudders at your hand in his hair, the way his tongue intensifies flicking against your clit. 

He pulls back, breathing heavy, mouth glittering with your slick. 

“I’m going to put a finger inside you,” he tells you, and you are grateful that he too sounds a little breathless. You cannot imagine just how embarrassing it would be to be the only one falling apart. 

“I want . . . you,” you say, not without a touch of petulance, and Neuvillette lets out a hoarse little laugh. Still kneeling before you, he reaches up to touch your warmed face - his thumb, too, glitters with your arousal from the way he had held you open. You cannot bring yourself to care when he softly smears it across your bottom lip like an offering, and he lets out a shuddering groan at the sight of your tongue swiping it off. 

“I want you,” he says. “Oh, you have no idea how much I want you. But I will not hurt you, sweet one. Let me prepare you.”

It feels very much like him; this way of taking charge, his firm words. This time, his hand curves up your inner thigh, and your breath catches as his finger slides between the valley of your sex, wetting itself in your slick and his saliva. Your toes curl into his plush carpet as he nudges your clit with his fingertip, as a soft noise of surprise escapes your mouth and he chuckles. 

He slides one finger inside of you with no resistance at all. His earlier ministrations have seen to that. It’s a strange sensation, to have something inside that is not one of your own fingers (rather smaller, rather shorter than his) - but it is hardly unwelcome. You whisper out his name, your eyes closing, and Neuvillette makes a gentle noise of encouragement. 

“That’s right,” he murmurs to you, as he slowly begins to pump his finger in and out of you. “You’re doing so well - you’re taking it beautifully. I’m going to put a second one in--”

He does exactly as he says, and the hand still knit in his hair tugs at the silvery strands a little harder. It is not that it is painful, but simply that it is a stretch you are unused to - and one, too, that you know will continue to intensify. 

You feel a strange, cool shock at the entrance to your sex - and you chance a glance down and realise it is his wedding ring, pressing against you. The sight and the knowledge makes you shudder, and Neuvillette huffs out a noise of want in return. 

You think of the cocks, straining beneath the vee of Neuvillette’s pelvis. You cannot see them now, but from the way they had looked when the two of you were just bathing, you feel certain they must be swollen stiff and hard, waiting for their own chance (and too, from the spots of colour on Neuvillette’s cheeks, the way his words have a strange, dry edge to them when he speaks). How will he put those inside of you? One at a time? Both at once? 

“What are you thinking about?” Neuvillette asks, raising his gaze to meet your own, a smile tugging at the corners of the lips. “You suddenly tightened around me.” 

“I--!” Your cheeks go hot, embarrassment making warmth seep down your back. Neuvillette laughs. 

“No need to keep secrets,” he murmurs, slowly establishing another rhythm, a slow pump of his two fingers inside of you, scissoring slightly to open you up. “We are married now, sweet one. We can share everything. Mmm . . . let me see. Were you imagining my fingers to be my cock?”

“Neuvillette--” Your voice is a weak little protest, and you avert your gaze shyly even as you force the words out. “I was . . . will you put them both inside of me?” Your gaze slips over his face again, nervous to see his reaction - his eyes widen in surprise, but it is not at all a look of anger. 

“Not tonight,” he tells you, and he smiles again. “I fear it may be too much for you. Ah, but if that’s what you want . . . my dear, I know you’d feel exquisite.” 

His fingers, pumping in and out, curling inside of you. His words, velvet-draped and deep - the look of concentration on his face, insistent on nothing more than drawing pleasure forward from you. You feel the hot tension inside of you reach a breaking point - a pot, ready to bubble over. 

“I must confess,” he breathes, leaning in, breath hitting your sex hot and close. “I was worried you might be afraid. I’m terribly glad to know what an effect the idea has on you.”

As he finishes the sentence, he lets his tongue drag out one slow, final lap of your clit - and it is just enough to push you over the final edge. The bubbling pot within you reaches boiling point - and the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt, like molten heat, suffuses you entirely. Your head falls back. A noise of sheer enjoyment falls wanton from your lips - your thighs and your hips and your entire body trembles and shakes in the pleasure, and you feel your sex pulsating and throbbing around the two of Neuvillette’s fingers that are inside of you. 

“Lovely,” Neuvillette murmurs, watching you in awe, his fingers slowing down as he lets you ride out the waves of your orgasm. “Oh, you’re . . . exquisite.”

“Neuvillette,” you say, collapsing back onto the bed, your breath coming in harsh pants. “I was afraid, at first. But I don’t think I could be. Not knowing what you’re like now. Not anymore.”

“Sweet thing.” Neuvillette stands. He steps forward and you see him again - his cocks are indeed straining, silvery precome dripping from the dual tips and smeared over the flat planes of his stomach. “You have no idea what you do to me. May I . . . ?” 

He does not need to ask. You think you would grant him whatever he asked for - you cannot imagine Neuvillette overstepping your boundaries, when he has been so sweet and so careful and so guiding for as long as you’ve known him, even knowing he could do whatever he wanted to you and nobody would blame him. But it warms your heart that he asks even so. 

“Please do,” you breathe, and you spread your thighs wider to accommodate him on the bed. 

His hands scoop under your hips, his palms firm on your ass as he moves you higher up the bed, ensuring that your head and shoulders are propped up with a mound of pillows. Even with his cocks practically twitching, he prioritises you before himself, and you cannot resist another show of appreciation, wrapping your hand around his neck and pulling him down into a kiss. 

He groans into your mouth, the movement clearly welcome - but when he mouths at you now, he is far messier than he has been before, his teeth just a little more present. You think he must be losing some of his control, and as his cocks nudge against your inner thighs, you are proved correct. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathes against your lips, pulling back just far enough to be able to speak. “I cannot hold myself back a moment longer--”

“Please, Neuvillette,” you whisper, fingers still in his hair. 

His lower cock nudges against your sex, the ring of muscle that will grant him entrance - and as he opens you up, his second cock rubs over the swollen over-sensitive nub of your clit and you whine. 

He covers your whine with another kiss. He eases into you, moment by moment, inch by inch - you have nothing to compare it to, but you think from the slow tempo he goes at and the way his gaze keeps flicking over you, checking you’re alright, he must be larger than average. 

But he has prepared you well. The stretch is an ache, but a pleasant one - it does not send painful shockwaves all through you. Your thighs wrap around his hips, pulling him as close as you can manage, and Neuvillette sighs. 

“Will you kiss me again?” He murmurs, so softly you almost do not hear him. The request makes your heart feel like bursting in your chest - the soft way he looks at you, his unwillingness to pull away from you, his desire to be as close to you as he can even when he is buried inside of you. 

You do. Arms wrap around his shoulders. His hands find purchase on your hips. His mouth and yours dance against one another - his tongue learning yours as if he is learning a new language. 

He fucks you like that. 

He is not rough with you, that first night; he does not, as you have heard so many new husbands do, take you and have you and ignore what you might want. Neuvillette cherishes you. 

The slow rock of his hips, indulgent in their rhythm. The way he kisses you. He is chasing his own release, but he does not feel any need to fuck into you with abandon. At least not yet. 

But time ticks on. The two of you seem to meld into one entity, and the kissing and the fucking grows sharper at the edges. You feel that Neuvillette is hovering on something, his expression almost desperate, as he rearranges the angle of his hips and the speed of his thrusts. 

“Please,” he whispers, broken-voiced. “I’m close--”

You let go of him and he lets out a noise of distress at the lack of contact, a noise that makes you shiver with the idea of how much power you may one day have over him. But instead of anything else, one of your hands darts between you, to take a firm grip on his second cock. Neuvillette hisses through his teeth at your hand, hot and firm. 

You do not know what you’re doing, not really, but that does not seem to bother Neuvillette as he increases the speed of his hips. In fact, he does most of the work - fucking his lower cock inside of you, hot and deep and wet, and fucking the cock atop it into your fist. You manage to work out a kind of twisting motion that makes him growl in the back of his throat--

It’s a fascinating noise, really. It makes you think of him as an animal, something feral and possessive - and you wonder what, later on, you may learn about him--

But then your name is falling from his lips like a prayer, and his cock is twitching inside of you and in your grip, and your back arches at the same time as he leans forward and sinks his teeth into your shoulder--

(Almost like a claiming bite. Almost like a mark to say that you are his). 

And both of you come, together, in great waves and pants and gasps of breath. His come paints your fist and the round softness of your stomach at the same time as it paints inside of you, your body once more pulsating around his cock as if it never wants to let you go. 

Like a tide on the shore; like a moon rising high over the lakes of Fontaine. Neuvillette lets himself lay atop of you, his head against your heart, his breath coming in great heaves. 

You do not need to think this time; you simply lift your unsoiled hand and begin to stroke the silver of his hair in slow, careful motions. From the back of his throat again comes that noise, something like a purr and something like a chirrup. His eyes close contentedly. 

“Neuvillette?” You whisper into the darkness, and your husband makes a soft ‘mm?’ of response. “You really . . . could have had anyone. Why did you choose me?”

“Hmm, sweet one?” He lifts his head from your chest and looks down at you like you have asked him why the sky is blue. “Didn’t you hear me earlier? I certainly did have my pick . . . I perhaps wouldn’t have chosen to marry if Lady Furina hadn’t been so insistent, but I was lucky enough to be able to choose anybody I wanted. And I had seen you.” He shakes his head, a huff of laughter falling from his mouth. “Like I said - I do have eyes.”

Your cheeks feel hot. The thought of being coveted by Monsieur Neuvillette, when you had worried about your body and your match and your future so often it felt like second nature--

“Oh dear,” he says, looking down at the two of you - at the sweat-slicked hair, at the come drying on your inner thigh. “I fear we’ll need to have another bath before bed.” 

“And you won’t mind if I join you?”

He chuckles. 

“Why,” he says. “I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

#neuvillette x reader #neuvillette smut #writing #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #chubby reader #not sfw text #commissioned work #chubby reader posting

[hunnieknight]

Pentab is broken. Have this which i draw on my phone and in Ibispaint

Big blue wife for the win

#ganyu #ganyu genshin #genshin ganyu #ganyu x reader #ganyu x chubby reader #ganyu x you #hunnieart #imaginedraw

[bl33df0rm3]

18+ MDNI

Needy!men Are the type of guys to be brimming with attraction for you, to beg for your attention just a touch, a kiss, a stroke had them begging for more. They want- No they require all of you, when you embrace them in a hug it takes every cell in their body, to ground them back to reality understanding this is a public place.

Needy!men Who trail their hands along your thigh under the table while occasionally give you side glances just waiting for you to stir, as their friends continue to indulge in conversation with the both of you. Needy!men That even why they're balls deep in you keep telling you how much they need you, as if the merciless pounding wasn't proof enough. The way he pinned you down into the mattress with his body to feel close along with intimate with.

Needy!men That take you on any surface when you get home, holding you up, pinning you down or helping you balance. Letting out a mix between a whine along with a groan as he finished deep inside, filling you to the very brim. "You can go for another round, yes?"

¡! ❞ Itto, Tighnari, Cyno, Gorou, Kaeya, Childe/ Tartaglia, Xiao, Zhongli

-‘๑’-Note; Next drabble coming soon….,If you have any characters you want me to cover in my next post(Or any request/ prompt for that matter) please lmk via question bar (Renamed Q&R), Comments or my Inbox

Please excuse me for taking a slight hiatus and not doing a part 2(yet) to romance in the bedroom. I literally gave birth so.

#afab!reader #black!reader #chubby!reader #drabble #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #oneshot #smut #itto smut #itto x you #tighnari smut #tighnari x you #cyno smut #cyno x you #kaeya smut #kaeya x you #childe smut #childe x you #tartaglia smut #tartaglia x you #xiao smut #xiao x you #zhongli smut #zhongli x you

[help-i-cant-think-of-a-nickname]

Hydro Dragon

Neuvillette is a type of man (or dragon) that barely shows emotion. If he does, well damn, your heart can't take it.

Neuvillette has this smile that can melt your heart, a smile that makes you want to squish his cheeks together, a smile that you want to cherish forever.

When he's mad? He's scarier than the archons. But thankfully, he rarely gets mad (at you). Thus, not having you witnessing his wrath, since the two of you rarely fight.

Having Neuvillette as a lover is fun and all until he confessed to you that he's the Hydro Dragon, the same dragon you always sang to whenever it rains so that the dragon won't be sad.

Therefore, it is your mission to be sunny every day in Fontaine. But right now, it's stormy and raining as hell.

You and Neuvillette had an argument. It's the usual argument about him overworking himself. But instead of you guys talking about it and cuddling in bed (even giving him back massages), he shouted at you and said things he didn't actually mean.

You knocked on the door that leads to his office. When you hear a small "Enter." you opened the door and entered.

"Neuvillette? It's already late. Come and cuddle with me."

Neuvillette's body is stiff from all the paperwork that seems to be endless. The dragon sighed and shook his head.

"As much as I wanted to feel your body, I have important things to do."

You frowned at his words. You're not clingy per se, but seeing your dear dragon's slumped shoulders in a mountain of paperwork makes you want to cradle and massage him.

"But love, the sun has already set, the stars and moon has long made it way to the sky. Come and sleep with me, fi—"

You didn't get to finish your words when Neuvillette interrupted you in an unpleasant way.

"CAN YOU BE QUIET FOR ONCE?! CAN'T YOU SEE THAT I'M BUSY AND DON'T NEED YOUR PAMPERING?!"

Now, that's the outburst you didn't expect. Right, he's exhausted and tired. You get that. But, really? Pouring his frustration out to you is just petty.

You stared at Neuvillette and left his office, not slamming the door, closing it softly like he didn't just shouted at you. Neuvillette, who still hasn't registered what he did continued to do his work.

It's been two days, and it's been raining cats and dogs ever since. You see, you've been avoiding him since he lashed out on you. Sleeping in a different room, making breakfast, lunch, and dinner early, and not visiting him at work. All the things he has been so used to do, like sleeping on the same bed, eating together, you sitting on his lap while he works, and you two cuddling together.

Neuvillette can't deny the fact that he missed those things. Yes, it's only been two days, but those two days have been torture to him. Without your sweet kisses and hugs, his work has been ten times harder for him.

Neuvillette is now walking in the streets of Fontaine, soaked in his own emotions as the heavy raindrops landed on him.

In the past, the chanting of children Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don't cry, used to cheer him up, but now? It's all useless. He didn't feel the same warmth as it used to have. The only warmth he can feel is through you. The sun and fire can't compare to the warmth you give to the love he received from you. He's been so used to receiving it that it feels so weird not to have it.

Neuvillette continued his aimless walk, and raindrops continued to pour on him until an umbrella was placed above his head.

"I was worried. You weren't at your office or at home."

Neuvillette turned his body around, and he saw your figure, holding up an umbrella at his soaked form.

The rain suddenly got heavier.

You panicked as the rain poured with more vigour.

"H-Hey! W-Why are you even sa—"

For the second time this week, you had been cut off, but this time, in a way you love.

Neuvillette immediately hugged you as soon as he saw your figure, burying his face in your neck, hugging you tightly.

"I'm sorry, love. I'm so sorry, punish me all you want, but, please, don't leave me."

The rain got heavier, you sighed as you guessed that he's imagining you leaving him forever.

Holding the umbrella with one hand and other is hugging him back.

"Neuvillette, the time that you told me that you were the Hydro Dragon, the time that you put your trust in me. I already set my mind to never leave you ever since."

You look up at the rainy sky.

"Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don't cry."

You whispered softly at him. There it was, the warmth he had been craving for. The warmth he can only feel around you.

You hugged him tighter to comfort him. Slowly, the rain started to calm down until the sky I now clear and bright.

"Thank you, I'm really sorry."

Neuvillette kept apologizing and you shutted him up by kissing him.

"Just don't do it again, okay?"

You caressed his face as he slowly nodded. You smiled and pat his cheek softly.

"Now, come on. Let's take a bath, you're soaked, we don't want you to have a fever do we?"

Neuvillette chuckled and nodded. Holding your hand tightly as he followed you home like a lost puppy.

Having a dragon as your lover is certainly hard, but worth it.

#chubby reader #genshin x reader #x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x chubby reader #gn reader #female reader #genshin impact x chubby reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact

[kttiuh]

୨୧ | "WHO'S PUSSY IS THIS ?"

pairings multi x black! chubby! reader

content very slightly degrading dirty talk. spanking twice (ass and face). pretty tame post, it's just nasty. nsfw.

a/n i think any man saying this is so corny and unattractive ughggh!! anyways, i'll let my fav sexies say it anytime !!!!

men that are so cocksure, so overtly confident. whether it’s him being full of themself because of who or what he is — or knowing he can please that pretty pussy so well that it just brings out the worst and nastiest in him. how can he not tease you so bad? you’re giving him so much to work with, pussy so tight it’s like you don’t even want him to pull out, just need him to stay buried deep in your drooling cunt. pussy so tight and warm that he can’t even piston into your syrupy walls properly.

he’s got you positioned into a nasty, steep arch. one of his hands is tangled in your curls, keeping your cheek smushed into whatever pillow he decided would do best to muffle your sing-songy moans and cries ‘til he decides to let up. with each mean thrust battering against your slick pussy, your own sticky gush of drool dampens the pillow — it leaves the side of your face moist and warm.

the other hand is between the skin where your ass and thighs meet. he bites his lips, throating down a groan at just how convenient the little area is, almost a good of a grip as your love handles — so soft, he loves the fat there — almost as much as he loves how fat your cunt is.

you feel his fingers give a tight grip at the area of skin before moving to the expanse of your brown ass, squeezing the flesh. this time, he doesn’t bother quieting his next growl as he watches the abundant, plush flesh spill out between each digit. before you can properly react to it, a sharp ‘slap!’ reaches your ears — and you feel the quick sting on your behind afterwards.

“fuck. so perfect. you’re so perfect. pussy’s so perfect.” he grunts bending over you. at the new angle, he's now enveloping you, chest flush against your back. he’s getting drunk off your pussy. drunk off how he can feel and see the swollen flesh grip and cling onto his cock, pussy juice wetting his pelvis and your inner thighs. his sweat mixes with yours, he’s so close like this, pratically hunched over your plump form.

more drool leaks from your mouth as he slows down his previously rough hips to roll them in tight, steady circles. the distinct motion has quick shots of pleasure move throughout your pussy, rewarding him with more cream on his cock.

“you goin’ stupid on me, pretty girl?” he asks, another roll of his hips, he gives your ass a few taps to make sure you’re not completely dumb on his dick. yet.

even though your eyes threaten to roll towards your skull, and your pink tongue is lolled out your lips — having you already fucked out before his pussy creams on him proper would be just cruel.

“fuuuck…who’s pussy is this?” he grunts, right next to your ear, breath hot on the sensitive skin. a little strained noise leaves your wet, swollen brown lips. it doesn’t seem to work for him though, and he gives a singular rough thrust, trying to coax a response out your pretty ‘lil fucked out form.

“c’mon babyy…” he coos, tone of voice so sugary sweet you’d think he wasn’t trying to push further into you, wanting his cock to press a pretty kiss against your cervix.

he laughs — a short, but amused one when he sees you still don’t respond. his hand previously in your hair moves to your cheeks, squishing the supple flesh before you feel it—

another sound of impact in the room, though its your face stinging this time instead of your ass. it wasn’t heavy enough to hurt — just to bring you back to earth so you can fully experience him dicking you down. going stupid on him and his cock is pretty ungrateful, isn’t it?

“fuck — yours!” you cry out when you see his hand reposition for another slap.

“pussy’s all yours, only you can make me feel s’good,” you praise, toes instictively curling and pussy somehow getting even tighter. of course your perfect cunt knows how to milk him so deliciously.

“there you go, pretty. you and this pussy know who fucks you so good.” he says. he readjusts his position, pulling his hips back until his cock is fully unsheathed, hot and sticky. nasty rewards from your cunny for drilling it out so well.

you whine as he slaps his angry, red tip on your puffy pussy, whining and cooing for him to just put it back in.

“don’t worry. ‘m not goin’ anywhere. greedy pussy, still needs me, yeah?”

of course it does — you need him to dig out your gummy walls in the shape of his cock. need him churning out cream and slick arousal from you.

and he’d never leave his girl or his pussy needy. <3

GOJO, TOJI, sukuna, suguru, CHILDE, KAEYA, wriothesley, diluc, HAWKS, DABI, ghost, john price, kishibe, CHRIS REDFIELD, carlos oliveria

© 𝐊𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐔𝐇 do not copy, modify, or otherwise repost my works to any other sites.

#꒰ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 . ꒱ ⁀ 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 ! #୨୧. ꒰ 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢 ꒱ #chubby!reader #black!reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x black reader #jjk x chubby reader #gojo smut #toji smut #suguru smut #sukuna smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #tartaglia smut #childe smut #kaeya smut #wriothesley smut #diluc smut #mha smut #hawks smut #dabi smut #cod smut #ghost smut #john price smut #csm smut #kishibe smut #resident evil smut #carlos oliveria smut #chris redfield smut

[scarafvcker]

synopsis: scaramouche finds himself in his room, having to deal with his own frustrations (i.e. dottore gives scara a cock and now he has to jack off to thoughts of you)

cws: masturbation, dirty thoughts (breeding + a whole lot of positions), chubby!afab!kitsune!reader

word count: 700+

part 2

“that stupid doctor.. that stupid fox..” scaramouche muttered to himself, pressing his forehead against the wall of his bedroom. he glared down at the tent that started to grow in his shorts, cursing dottore for giving him that configuration without his consent or knowledge. now, the puppet had to experience his first erection despite his many, many years of walking teyvat—and it’s all because of you.. and one of dottore’s clones’ sick idea of a joke.

you’re just supposed to be that kitsune he found all those years ago in inazuma, the one that decided to stick with him like a thorn in his side. but thanks to that stupid configuration, all he can think of is how he wants to pull at your fluffy tail while he slams his cock deep into your puffy cunt.

he doesn’t get it.. how a simple body part can completely cloud his mind.. and with thoughts of you, no less. his cock is painfully erect, pushing against the confines of his shorts and begging to be let out. despite his lack of experience with these types of things, he pulls his shorts down and wraps his hand around his thick cock. he truly has no clue what to do, doing whatever comes to mind and just going along with it. he pumps his hand around himself, wincing a little before he reaches his hand up and spits on it. he brings his now moistened hand back to his shaft, letting out a breathy gasp as he starts pumping it again.

his free arm slides up the wall, serving as a separation between his sweaty forehead and the cold wall. his indigo eyes glance over his cock for the first time, glaring at the sight of how his long, slender fingers can just barely wrap around his own girth. archons, his cock would split you open and he can’t help the way his pretty, pink tip leaks at the thought.

he reaches his thumb up, using it to swirl that translucent substance all around his sensitive tip, causing a guttural groan to escape his mouth. his eyes flutter shut and he allows his mind to take over.

god, how he wishes it was your pussy instead of his fist he was fucking. he’d use his hands to grope and grab at every single inch of your body, bending you into every single position his mind could think of. he’d latch his mouth onto your tits, licking and sucking on them while he ruts into you from above. he’d bite at your neck while pinning your plush thighs against your chest. he’d pound you from behind while his hands reach around you and grope at your belly. he’d grab a fistful of your hair while his other hand pressed you against the bed.

he needs to see your pretty little face all fucked out and sweaty, drooling and flushed. he needs to hear the pathetic sounds you make, gasps, moans, screams, whines, whimpers, pants, anything. he needs to see the way your pretty little pussy takes in his cock over and over again, drooling and twitching so deliciously. he needs to hear the obscene noises of his cock stirring up your insides, the sound of your wet cunt, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass, the sound of his hips slamming against your own.

he wonders if you would beg to be bred, letting your animal instincts take over and cry for him to fill you up. he wonders if he could breed you, if he could get you nice and round and full of his kids.

he has to see the face you make when he spills his cum deep inside you. he has to see the way it spills out of you when he pulls out. he has to see the way your hole twitches when he pushes it back inside. he has to hear how you moan when he fills you up. he has to hear how you whine as he pushes his cum back into your abused hole. he has to see it all. he has to hear it all. he has to feel it all.

for now though, he has to clean his cum off of his hands and the wall.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin scaramouche #genshin wanderer #scaramouche #wanderer #chubby reader #scara #scaramouche smut #wanderer smut #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader

[b0red-b1rds]

Okay, random idea I had, and I can't get out of my head. The Harbingers with a chubby lover. Like, they could all see that their favorite person was on the softer side, clearly, but I can imagine just how floored they'd be when they cuddle for the first time.

Childe puts his hands on their tummy, expecting a little bit of give, but his hand just. Keeps going? And the skin is squishing out from between his fingers? And it's so warm??? He can't help but just flop forward and bury his face in the chub. "...It's like spooning a giant marshmallow."

Dottore's younger clones enjoyed teasing at first, pinching at chubby cheeks and a squishy belly. It isn't until one of the clones is pulled into a warm hug, his cheek pressed against their chest, that they all realize just how soft and warm their lover is. After that, each segment is always finding excuses to cuddle or hug, eager to feel their lover's warm affection.

Pantalone is an absolute sucker for a soft tummy, okay? He greatly enjoys paying for flattering clothes for his darling, eager to see just how beautiful he can make them look. Of course, he was always under the impression that works of art should simply be admired. You wouldn't just walk up and touch a masterpiece! But that worldview is thrown out the window the first time his darling hugs him, snuggling against his chest while soft arms encircled his waist. He tries to hold himself back after that, but really, can he be blamed when he's suddenly so eager to hold your hand or put an arm around your waist?

Capitano is more accustomed to hard, muscular bodies, as those bodies are the ones he spars with regularly. He trains himself every day, keeping himself in perfect fighting condition so as to better serve the Tsaritsa. So imagine his surprise the first time he held his companion, feeling all of their soft curves against his hardened muscle. He actually freezes for a moment, his brain short-circuiting because of how enjoyable it was. He really hopes they couldn't hear how fast his heart was pounding...

Pierro, given his age, is somewhat familiar with all of this. Hardly anything is new to him by now. Rather, he had simply forgotten how wonderful it was to feel someone so soft and pliable in his arms. On particularly rough days, he often asks his beloved to sit on his lap, just so he can hold them for a bit. It never fails to soothe him.

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin x chubby reader #childe x reader #dottore x reader #pantalone x reader #capitano x reader #pierro x reader #genshin childe #genshin dottore #genshin pantalone #genshin capitano #genshin pierro

[wh1msic4alwasab1]

𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐡𝐬𝐫/𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𓍼 𐙚 𓍢ִ໋🀦

art cred: gnillhem (x), howdong_ (x), mimmirii_ (insta)

❀ synopsis: how various men would love their chubby gfs <3

❀ genre: smut

❀ a/n: as a chonky gal myself this was so fun to write, also this was an ankn req from my old blog!

❀ tags: nsfw, mirror sex, praise, explicit, vulgar, cunnalingus, riding, fluff(?)

❀ Gallagher- You can’t tell me this man isn’t obsessed with curvy women. Absolutely enthralled by all your dips and mounds; feasting his eyes all over your figure and making sure no one in the bar ogles over you too hard. Just a little is fine though. Only a little.

He’s definitely possessive over you, but not controlling in the slightest.

In public, he’ll hug you from behind and squeeze you lovingly. And when you nap he’ll lay his head down on your stomach with his body inbetween your legs, loving when you graze your hand through his hair.

His hands though, love to hold every part of your body when you’re on top of him; especially your hips.

“Oh, god, right there,” you moaned, as his hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements up and down his cock. You could feel the heat radiating off his body as your skin pressed together, each movement sending a wave of pleasure through your clit. He relished in the feeling of your soft skin under his fingertips, his hands roaming up her back, down your sides, never wanting to let go.

“You look so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. He looked at you like you were the only woman in the world.

❀ Wrio- Doesn’t necessarily care about body types, but is obsessed with thighs. Doesn’t matter where, if he’s seated next to you his hand will be placed on your knee like a brace. He rubs them with his thumb, even if he’s driving they’ll be all over you. He’s always touching you, feeling your skin against his.

Oh yeah, by the way, he’s obsessed with your thighs. So much so that he’d do anything to be buried in them.

“Stay still…” He’d plead, muffled monotone coming from between your legs as is face is stuffed in the middle. His tongue traces up and down your exposed slit, hands gripping onto the fat of your thighs as his face is completely engulfed from side to side, marked up with marks of his teeth and colors of deep purple from his tender kisses.

“Wrio-“ You moan out- tempting to open your legs as the pleasure arose, earning a loud and stinging slap on your ass from your lover.

“Still.” He affirms, continuing to wring all the cum out of you, lapping it up while massaging your thighs with his palms.

❀ Diluc- Incredibly flaunting of you, you’re his beautiful prized possession. Not that your a trophy wife, but it would be a crime against teyvat to keep the world from seeing you.

Diluc especially loves to see you in the finest silks and chiffon.

The only thing he loves to see you in other than the most expensive fibers, is just nothing at all.

Every time he undresses you, his breath hitches at the sight of your benevolence. He loves the way you feels under his touch.

His favorite way to undress you, is right infront of the mirror. Standing behind you, he unties the buttons that trail down your back. It’s his favorite dress on you, but it’s subjected to the cold marble floors like every other peice of clothing he’s torn off you.

Slowly he drops the sleeves down, moving your hair out the way so he can plant kisses to your neck, one hand snaked around from behind you to hold your neck. The other groping and squeezing your breasts, before trailing down to feel your wet folds inside your panties.

“Pull these off.” He says, and you eagerly comply, sliding your panties to the side as he watches you infront of him in the reflection.

He takes in the sight before him, his eyes roaming over your exposed body, making you feel vulnerable yet completely safe in his embrace. 'You're perfect,' he whispers, before he turns his lips to descend on yours, igniting a fire within you that can only be extinguished by him.

It’s not long before he has you sitting on the dresser opposite of the mirror so he can force you to watch him fuck you. So that you can see how hungry he is for you, with your own two eyes.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

#genshin #honkai star rail #genshin fanfic #hsr x reader #hsr #genshin imagines #genshin smut #hsr smut #diluc #wriothesley #hsr gallagher #jo’s posts #chubby reader #x chubby reader #diluc smut #gallagher smut #wriothesely x reader #wrio x reader #wrio smut #wriothesley smut #diluc x reader #gallagher x reader #diluc ragnvindr #genshin diluc #diluc x you #diluc fanart #diluc x y/n #wriothesley headcanons

[bwabys-scenarios]

NSFW

You are his first kiss, his first love, and well… his first everything. You knew that he was a virgin, just the way he reacted to your touch made that very clear, but you weren’t expecting him to cum from just a few heated kisses!

The second you felt him groan into your mouth and his hands clutch at your waist as his hips bucked, you knew he was cumming in his pants. Instead of frustrating you or turning you off, it made you feel… quite flattered. So flattered that you decided to gently rub at the bulge still present in his pants.

“Baby, you couldn’t wait just a little longer?”

He whined, his head burying itself into your neck. “C-couldn’t stop, too much…”

You smiled, quickly undoing his pants so you could wrap your hand around his needy cock. “Shh, shh… poor baby can’t even take a few kisses before making a mess… gonna take care of you, okay?”

And that’s when he learned the pleasure of handjobs. He was sure he came buckets that night, making an even bigger mess than what you started with. The feeling of your thumb brushing over his tip, wiping away the precum beading there was enough to make him shoot out a rope of thick cum instantly.

It didn’t help when you moved to sit in front of him, taking his cock into your mouth. He was so nervous, needing your permission to hold onto your hair and guide your mouth up and down the way he liked it. It wasn’t long until he was spilling down your throat, whimpering and moaning so loud you were sure the neighbors could hear.

And when you dropped your panties to the floor and hovered over his cock, the tip kissing your pretty cunt… he came before he could even get inside of you, painting your pussy white. It was endearing, how much your body and actions affected him.

You rode him, letting him fill you up with as much cum as he could. He couldn’t help rutting into you, his lips parted as he let out needy whimpers, begging to cum inside again. You allowed him every time, knowing that he now that he had experienced the warmth of your pussy, that there was no going back.

Eventually he was tuckered out, his thrust slow, still wanting to cum but way too sleepy to keep fucking into you. “Baby, shh… let’s rest, we can always go again tomorrow.”

And so you let his cock stay nestled inside of you as he suckled at your breast. Your boyfriend was quite spoiled, and now he was absolutely addicted to cumming inside of you. You didn’t mind though, because he was just too cute to resist.

———————

||NANAMI ||GOJO ||CHOSO ||ARMIN ||KURAPIKA ||LEORIO ||ILLUMI ||RENGOKU ||OBANAI ||SANEMI ||XIAO ||TIGHNARI ||KAVEH ||YOUR FAV

#nanami kento x reader #gojo x reader #choso x reader #kurapika x reader #leorio x reader #illumi x reader #rengoku x reader #obanai x reader #sanemi x reader #xiao x reader #tighnari x reader #kaveh x reader #genshin x reader #kny x reader #jjk x reader #anime x reader #reader insert #headcanon #hxh x reader #anime x chubby reader #chubby!reader #chubby reader #afab reader #fem!reader #fem reader #female reader #jjk imagines #genshin smut #genshin imagines #kny smut

[dolliestfairy]

𔓘 Tw : Yandere, Dark Content, Spiritual Relationship, Jealousy, the word 'Rot' Mentioned, unholy thoughts, Virginity-take, Dubcon, Marriage, Unwanted pregnancy at the end (?) lmk if i miss anything. Chubby Reader Fics with no Skintone of Reader mentioned.

Do not cross any further Boundaries if this isnt your cup of tea. Dont like it? just block.

thinking abt yandere spirit who are in love with chubby!soft!witch!reader.

Yandere spirit who spending his after-death life with regret because he really blame himself for not meeting you early enough to fuck your fat pussy.

Yandere spirit who is sooo eager to fuck you, seeing you go around with your tight dress that almost made your asscheeks and boobs go explode expose.

Yandere spirit who ask you to do something with him just so he can touch you like a human does.

Yandere spirit who is soo jealous when other people start to touching you without your constent at all. guess someone is going to get hunted this night huh?

Yandere spirit who likes to touch your thights when you were sleeping. putting his hands into your thights while rubbing it softly. as he drown himself in with thoughts of how your soft body texture would feel around his hands.

Yandere spirit who wished you to be dead sooner with him just so you can be together with him forever. seeing other people trying to get into you closer making him gawk.

Yandere spirit who soon enough -- declares a Marriage between you and him in a Village of Spirit or what-so-ever.

Yandere spirit who swears on his life and after-dead life that he would always be there for you even when his flesh was rotting. well i mean.. his flesh was rotting only for you too.

Yandere spirit who cant even explain with words how happy he was when his fingers start to opened up your fatty pussy, as his heads start to move forward to it while his tongue is out -- ready to eat his after-dead meal.

and after all of that dead dreams of his, we finally met to the end; he claimed all of your maidenhood. all of it, all the things you dont know about -- to all the things about sex that was quite popular in the time where he was once lived. where he was once have a dream to try it out, but sadly enough the reaper was fast enough to grab his lifefull soul. and now, its his turn -- as he grab all your maidenhoods that night. and at the early morning, where a blessing from a devils arrived. where you would find the shock of the news that you are carrying his baby just at that moment. yes, your baby. you and his baby. the dead 's baby.

NANAMI, KAISER, Itoshi Brothers, Itto, XIAO, SCARAMOUCHE, Shibura, SEMI EITA, jiraiya, Sugawara, Tsukishima Kei, KAGEYAMA TOBIO, Itachi, CHOSO, Megumi, Gojo, MADARA, Hashirama, DEIDARA, Sasori, Al-Haitam, ZHONGLI, CHILDE, Kaeya, QIN SHI HUANG, Poseidon, OBITO, Kakashi, ALEC, Jack The Ripper, DOUMA, ENMU, Akaza, Muzan, SAKAMAKI AYATO, SAKAMAKI LAITO, Mukami Kou, Sakamaki Reiji, Oikawa, & SHIGARAKI.

#chubby reader #plus size reader #yandere x chubby darling #yandere x chubby reader #yandere smut #yandere x reader #tw.yandere #tw: yandere #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #yandere genshin #yandere naruto #yandere jjk #diabolik lovers x reader #madara smut #madara x reader #haikyuu smut #yandere haikyuu #haikyuu dark content #haikyuu x reader #yandere blue lock #blue lock x chubby reader #blue lock smut #kny smut #kny x reader #douma x reader #muzan x reader #zhongli x reader #diabolik lovers smut #akatsuki x reader

[hunnieknight]

Did you know that kink and fetish can developed from trauma and insecurities?

Just some idea about Lisa and chubby!reader who casually talk about kinks and fetish, since you both are close friends and open about it, Lisa thought you were quite open in what you like,turns out you just being open about your vulnerability.

(U can make ur own full fic insipired by this)

#imaginedraw #genshin x reader #genshin lisa #lisa x reader #lisa x chubby reader #chubby reader #genshin x chubby reader

[bl33df0rm3]

18+ MDNI

SlightModern!Au

Reserved!Men Who look at you from across the restaurant table tilting their head to the side when you suddenly stop speaking. Sliding his hand out from pocket holding the remote for the vibrator settled inside of you.

Reserved!Men That leave gentle kisses along your neck, ever single one soft, agonizingly slow as he let out a slight chuckle moving his hands above the cloth of your nipples pinching them.

Reserved!Men Who's fingers hit the right spots curling them, to get a reaction watching your face contort into one of desperation. HIs words are foul, yet they're laced with elegance, poise reminding you to have patience even if he's losing it himself.

Reserved!Men That let out the most pretty groans and moans any sound of pleasure as they thrust into you, digging their nails into your skin, his face buried into your neck letting out sweet profanities along with words brimming with degradation.

"You know I have a reputation to uphold, I can't have you embarrassing me like that in public again...."

Alhaitham ,Baizhu, Ayato, Xiao, Zhongli, Diluc, Kazuha, Tighnari, Pantalone.

-‘๑’-Note; Next drabble coming soon….,If you have any characters you want me to cover in my next post(Or any request/ prompt for that matter) please lmk via question bar (Renamed Q&R), Comments or my Inbox

Ps; If this is bad, I promise my account isn't always like this, this was a draft i needed to post i've been busy with my daughter and planning my wedding with my soon to be husband.

#afab!reader #black!reader #chubby!reader #drabble #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #oneshot #smut #alhaitham smut #alhaitham x you #baizhu smut #baizhu x you #ayato smut #ayato x you #xiao smut #xiao x you #zhongli smut #zhongli x you #diluc smut #diluc x you #kazuha smut #kazuha x you #tighnari smut #tighnari x you #pantalone smut #pantalone x you

[oni-gory]

Headcannons for how Genshin Boys treat their chubby gfs ♡⸝⸝

ᡣ𐭩 characters: Scaramouche, Itto, Xiao, Venti

ᡣ𐭩 cw: NSFW, Chubby reader, praise, degradation, biting kink, cockwarming, dom reader

ᡣ𐭩 notes: just a little something to keep yall alive while I work on stuff. Btw totally trying to work on a posting schedule- (｡•́︿•̀｡)

Scaramouche

• mumbles breathless degrading words to you while he fucks your brains out

• bites all over your body. Anywhere he can find, but his favorite spot is your neck and gorgeous, thick thighs.

• never says it, but secretly loves it when you ride his cock. The way your stomach jiggles was just too much for him.

• he could keep fucking you all night if you’d let him thanks to the fact he was a puppet.

• absolutely obsessed with pulling your hair, the whimpers you let out always makes him so hard.

Itto

• buys you all the lingerie he can find, and always showers you in compliments when he sees you in them.

• I definitely see Itto as more of a sub, or at the least a gentle dom. He’s just so whiny and adorable in bed, begging to bred you and such.

• he especially loves it when you sit on his lap and ride his cock, it makes him go absolutely feral. And I mean, whimpering, gripping your hips with his nails, and trembling.

• likes to be pegged, but he’s too shy to say it.

• honestly, the only time Itto would be a dom in my eyes, would be when he’s in heat. (Coming soon btw :3) He’d just fuck you, wherever he could, preferably standing. That way he could watch as his cock went in and out of you, and prove that you weighted nothing to him.

Xiao

• You were his first time, so naturally, you both ended up fucking. All night long. The next morning you definitely knew you both pushed it a little after Xiao could barely get out of bed.

• he was absolutely horrible at eating you out in the beginning, like he couldn’t even find your clit. But after a few weeks, he turned into a pro.

• definitely treats your cunt like ice cream, obsessed with having a taste anytime he can. Whether it be when you’re both on the top of the Inn, or relaxing on the couch.

• Thanks to the fact he’s an adeptus, his sex drive is just never ending, like Scaramouche.

Venti

• I don’t care what anyone says, Venti is 100% a top. And I don’t mean some kinda soft dom, that man is an absolute menace in bed.

• lovess bondage. Just seeing you tied up helplessly in front of him, your freedom in his hands felt so.. lustful.

• he has the tendency to get drunk and just have you cockwarm him, loving the sight of you slowly going mad with pleasure.

• don’t worry though, Venti is as good as aftercare as he is at fucking. He’d keep some bath salt and your favorite bath bombs in stock at all times.

• despite Venti being the most diabolical man ever in bed, he can be kind.. when he wants to.

•Some nights, when Venti knows you’re annoyed from a long day, he’ll just have you lay down and eat you out until he’s sure you feel better. (Or until you’re trembling and shaking, whichever comes first.)

#૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა #genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin x reader #venti x reader #scara x reader #itto x reader #xiao x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin x chubby reader #chubby reader smut

[scarafvcker]

synopsis: scaramouche finds himself in his office, too distracted to do his duties ((i.e. man’s horny as hell and it’s your fault) based off of this drabble))

cws: masturbation, exhibitionism, spanking (only like three times), virginity loss (scara + reader), cunnilingus, fingering, praise, degradation, edging, overstimulation, creampie, chubby!afab!kitsune!reader

word count: 6800+ (it was an accident LMAO)

a/n: thanks for 100 followers guys <3

scaramouche was beyond frustrated, utterly exasperated—exasperated at his exasperation as he glared at the pile of papers laying on his desk. he brought a hand up, running it through his silky indigo locks. he’s mentally chastising himself for getting so caught up in his emotions, even going as far as to let his paperwork pile up on his desk for two weeks straight. the sight of the tall stack of paper makes him curse everything ever, mainly dottore, his segments, and you. he keeps finding his mind consumed with thoughts of you, distracting him from getting work done.

he couldn’t go out and risk bumping into you, opting to stay cooped up in his office under the premise that he’s doing paperwork but nobody knows what he’s doing under the desk. if anyone were to walk in, they’d find him with a light sheen of sweat coating his forehead and the tips of his ears burning a bright red and most would think he’s just fallen ill from the stress of that mountain of papers.

but you’re standing there in the doorway, arms crossed and leaning against the wooden frame with that concerned look on your face that causes his cold, nonexistent heart to melt. and he almost feels bad about how he’s spent everyday thinking about you until his balls are dry, almost feels bad about the way his hand picks up the pace with each word you say, almost feels bad about the way he’s shamelessly pumping his cock while you’re standing there so worried. that caring lilt in your voice nearly draws a deep groan from his throat when you say, “scara, are you alright? you should take a break—let me do some paperwork for you.”

he knows he should send you off, he knows his self-restraint is practically null around you nowadays, he knows that if he were to spend more than three minutes in the same room with you, he’d probably end up begging you to let him fuck you. but he also knows how stubborn you are and before he could even get another word out, you’re shutting the door behind yourself and taking a seat on the opposite side of his desk. god, he’s fucked.

he’s grumbling under his breath and pulling his hand off his dick so he could grab a pen and at least pretend he’s doing work. the room is consumed in a comfortable silence as the two of you start tackling that pile of papers but he still can’t focus. his eyes keep drifting off the paper and up onto you and the way your ear twitches in confusion as you read over the page in front of you. it’s only now that he realizes how soft he is for you. despite being rock hard under the table.

his other hand slides down to stroke himself once again while his eyes are trained onto your face and he has to pry his gaze away from you before you notice it. he watches you in his peripherals, his thumb slowly rubbing at his sensitive tip as he takes in all of your mannerisms from the way your ears twitch when he hisses at how painfully erect he is to the way you bite your lip in concentration. god, your lips. your lips are already making his self-restraint start to slip and it hasn’t even been a minute. you prop your head up onto your fist, pressing your knuckles into your chubby cheek while you purse your lips and start writing.

he flips his paper a few times, pretending to read over it even though his gaze isn’t even on the paper and instead it’s locked onto you while he eye-fucks you. due to the snezhnayan cold, you’re all bundled up but that doesn’t stop the desk from showing off the shape of your boobs when you lean over to look closely at the fine print on the paper. the sight alone is nearly enough to make him cum, having to pull his hand away again to not stain the underside of the table.

“scara?” your voice draws his attention and he shifts his gaze back to your face, “scara, are you sure you’re alright? you’re getting redder by the minute.” you’re wearing that cute little pout that makes him even redder. all of a sudden you stand up and he’s rushing to put his cock back into his shorts while you walk around the table to press the back of your hand against his forehead, “wow, you’re burning up.. i didn’t think puppets could get sick..”

he’s quick to swat your hand away, swirling his chair around to face you properly with a scowl, “i’m fine! can you just go back to working?”

his self-restraint was barely hanging on when you clicked your tongue and grabbed his wrist in an attempt to pull him up but the second your hand wrapped around his wrist, he manages to flip the roles. he snatched his wrist out of your grasp and quickly took hold of you instead, one hand wrapped around your own wrist while his other hand gripped onto your waist. he swears he could hear his self-restraint snap, the sound resonating in his mechanical ears. before either of you could process what’s going on, he’s pulling you into him.

“wh- huh? scara?!” he thought you looked so pretty like this, flustered while you stop yourself from falling onto his lap by resting one knee beside his thighs. he has you towering over him now and he can feel the shallow breathes you take cascading over his face.

he lets out a deep chuckle, his indigo eyes staring up into your own, “it’s all your fault, you know that? you’re the reason i can’t focus.” he guides your hand to rest on his shoulder so he can tightly grip your soft waist with both hands, “if you don’t walk out of my office right now, i’m not sure what’s gonna happen.”

he can practically hear the gears turning in your head through the thick silence before your shocked expression turns into an amused smirk, “my fault? i personally believe it’s dottore’s fault.”

your words cause him to chuckle once more, “of course you knew. what a sly fox you are—pretending you knew nothing while sitting here just to rile me up.” he can see the way your smirk falters for a split second when he manages to push you onto his desk in one swift move, knocking over the stack of papers in the process. you look at the papers as they flutter to the ground and he uses that opportunity to situate himself between your legs, bringing his head down to kiss the soft skin of your neck. he’s keeping his ears open for each and every sound you make to gauge your reaction to his advances, shutting his eyes while he peppers kisses all over the side of your neck.

he’s pressing his throbbing cock against you while his hands slide up and down your body, squishing and grabbing at every piece of fat he can. one hand is grabbing at the fat on the side of your belly while his other hand runs down to massage the outside of your thick thigh. his movements are spurred on by the breathy sounds that you try to hold back and he leaves a little experimental bite on your neck, reveling in the way you let out a shaky gasp and fling your hand up to slide into his hair. he goes back to pressing kisses onto your neck, leaving you wanting more as you buck your hips up to grind against him. he groans against your neck, his words sending vibrations through your body, “fuck, don’t do that.” but you do it again and again until he’s a gasping mess, nearly cumming in his shorts.

“shit, shit-” he hisses, his hands quickly pinning your hips down onto the table as he pulls away from your neck to press his lips onto yours. he takes your lips into a greedy kiss, letting his lips move against yours so perfectly like he was made for you. your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him down to press him into yourself and he can feel your soft body against his chest. his hands start to roam again, sliding up the hem of your shirt to feel the warmth of your body and he can feel you shiver at how cold his hands are. he freely grabs at your fat once again, using your body heat to warm up his hands. you’re so soft and warm and it’s making him wonder about how you feel inside.

you pull away from the kiss and he remembers that non-puppet beings have to breathe, a smirk forming on his face when he sees how swollen your lips are. he lets you catch your breath as he attaches himself to your neck again, suctioning his lips onto your skin and leaving tiny red marks onto your neck. you’re grinding your hips against him again and his hands are slowly moving upward, hovering over your ribcage and just under your boobs. he pulls away from your neck again, leaving a few kisses on top of the marks he just left on you.

“you look beautiful like this,” he mumbles before taking a hand out from under your shirt and firmly grabbing your face, his middle finger and thumb pressing into your chubby cheeks. he gently guides your face to the other direction, giving himself access to the unmarked side of your neck before he’s marking that side too. he’s slowly sliding his other hand upward, gliding against the center of your ribcage so sensually and grazing over the middle of your bra just between your boobs. his hand keeps going up and up before stopping at your collarbone and changing direction. his nails are short and smooth over your skin, scratching you ever so lightly as his hand ventures back down your torso.

he knows how his touches cause your body to burn, having spent two weeks fantasizing about you to plan out all the ways he would get you needy for him the way he’s needy for you. it’s working and he can tell by the way your breath hitches, by the way you squirm under him, by the way your hands begin to paw at him, by the way your tail flicks against his leg, by the way you whimper his name.

it’s painful how slow he’s going, painful how much he’s teasing you—for you and him both. but when his hand finally slips under your bra and cups a handful of your soft tits, it’s all worth it. he pulls himself off of your neck with an audible ‘pop!’ before letting go of your jaw and lifting up your shirt. his gaze stays on you as he slowly pushes up the fabric over your chest, eyes darting between the sight of your body and your face. his hands snake around your back and fiddle with your bra, struggling to unhook it before he decided to just pull your bra up too, rolling his eyes when you snicker at his actions.

he immediately attaches himself to your tits, one hand squishing and squeezing at your chest while his lips are wrapped around the other boob and his tongue swirls around your nipple. it’s like he’s lost in the moment, as if nothing else matters when he’s making out with your tit. he can’t help himself—your soft body is just so fun to play with.

your hands are running up and down his shoulders, slipping into his hair again and pulling him even closer to you. he swears he can just cum right then and there—completely untouched, save for your hands in his hair. he has to pull himself away from you again, peppering light kisses in between sucks down the center of your torso and leaving even more marks on your skin. his fingers graze over the fresh hickeys as he slowly lowers himself to his knees in front of you, his lips ticking your skin as he kisses down your belly. he smirks at the shaky little gasp you let out when he nibbles onto your lower belly. he can’t help but admire every single inch of your chubby body, wanting to kiss and bite every single piece of fat he can.

you let out another gasp when his hands roughly part your legs, your half-lidded eyes widening as he looks up at you from between your thighs. you’re so flustered by the way he’s looking at you, eyes darting around the room. he presses a kiss onto your clothed leg, his fingers still snaking over your belly before hooking under the waistband of your pants, “eyes on me, darling.”

such an obedient little thing, you are—looking back at him the second his words left his mouth. his smirk widens and he slowly unzips your pants before pulling them down at an even slower pace. his knuckles graze over your hips, over your thighs, over your knees, over your calves, over your ankles until finally, your pants are completely off and you’re left sitting on his desk with your shirt and bra pushed over your tits and your panties on full display for him. he’s parting your legs again, gently this time while he’s peppering tiny, red hickeys from your knee to your inner thigh. he moves to your clothed heat, his face hovering over it for a second before he’s switching his attention to your other thigh.

“you’re so annoying,” you mumble and watch intently as he sucks and gropes your inner thighs, eyes widening again when he starts licking and biting at the pudgy fat there. you subconsciously flick your tail against his face, suddenly self-conscious but he’s quick to non-verbally reassure you. he gently pushes your tail away and kisses your fat thighs again, putting every ounce of love he has into each kiss until you finally melt and let him suck and nibble your squishy thighs again.

his hands keep massaging your pudgy inner thighs while he kisses up to your knee, leaving hickeys to mirror the ones he left on your other thigh. he’s rushing the last few hickeys, a bit too eager to finally taste you cause he’s suctioning himself onto your clothed cunt. the sight of it alone is embarrassing for both of you but neither of you stop it, letting him tongue at your puffy folds to his nonexistent heart’s content. he’s licking at your clothed pussy, tongue pressing into your hole and flicking it around a few times, dragging it up and down your panties and trying to find that little bundle of nerves he spent days researching about. his fingers are pushing around your puffy folds while his tongue flicks over every spot he could find before he finally finds your clit and you jolt at the touch. your reaction spurs him to do it again and again, focusing all his attention onto that spot until you’re a whining mess.

you’re all breathy and whiny for him with a mantra of his name leaving your lips while his tongue keeps flicking over your clothed clit. god, you taste delicious and he can’t help but imagine how you taste without the barrier of your panties holding him back. he quickly pulls himself away right before you cum, tugging the seat of your panties to the side and blowing some air onto your newly exposed cunt, chuckling at the way you beg for him to lick you again.

he can’t peel his eyes off of your glistening cunt, his thumbs reaching to spread apart your fat pussy lips as he gets distracted by the way your juices shine in the light. he leans in and drags the tip of his tongue from your hole all the way up to your clit, gathering a mouthful of your slick before swallowing it all. god, you taste divine and he can’t help but flick his tongue inside of your hole a few times to taste as much of you as he can.

he slips his tongue as deep as it can go, his thumb reaching up to slowly and gently rub circles onto your clit while his tongue thrashes around inside of you. he’s greedily drinking up all of your slick, his tongue plunging in and out, up and down, left and right. the difference between his tongue and his thumb is mind numbing and he revels in the way you can do nothing but sit there with your hands in his hair, pulling him deeper into you while you grind your hips upward to meet his tongue.

the sound of his tongue dipping in and out of your cunt fills his office, harmonizing with your broken whines and whimpers to coat the room in a sultry atmosphere. neither of you know how thin the walls are but neither of you care either—not when he’s greedily fucking his tongue into your sloppy hole like theres no tomorrow, not when his hands are kneading at your pudgy thighs as they clamp down onto the sides of his head, not when he keeps lapping up all of your juices and thumbing at your overly sensitive clit, not when the pleasure is too much and you’re pushing his head away from your twitching pussy.

he pulls his face away from your cunt but a smirk is plastered onto his lips and you’re not sure why until the tip of his middle finger is sliding up and down your slit, gathering your slick before pressing into your hole a tiny bit and pulling right back out. his finger pressed only a couple centimeters in but he already has your hole twitching around nothing, silently begging to be filled. his smirk grows even wider when he hears your quiet voice say, “scara.. put your finger inside, please..”

“well, when you’re begging like that..” he chuckles and hovers his middle finger just outside your entrance, “..i have to listen to you.” he slowly slides his finger inside, pushing in inch by inch and letting your walls get accustomed to the intrusion. his eyes widen slightly, a bit surprised at how you feel—so warm and wet, so soft and tight, “darling, you’re squeezing my finger so tightly. have you never been stretched out before?”

you shake your head, letting your walls tense up one last time before relaxing completely, “no, it’s easier for me to just.. rub, y’know?” his eyebrows fly upward at the realization of your virginity before he gives you a soft nod, a mutual understanding that the two of you are willing to give each other your first times. he hums before turning his hand to face his palm toward the ceiling, running the tip of his finger against your walls and getting a good feel of your insides.

you keep a smile on your face as he uses his finger to rub at your ridged walls, your expression remains unchanging as his finger surges deeper and deeper up until he grazes against that squishy spot deep inside you. you let out a deep gasp, the smile you wore contorting into a silent moan as pleasure surges through you. he keeps prodding at that spot, sending heat to cascade over your body. he leans forward again, kissing your clit as he mumbles, “you like that, darling? feels like you do.”

the only sounds you could let out where whimpers and pleas of “there! right there! please!” it was music to his ears and he needed to hear more. his finger kept hitting that spot over and over again causing you to get even wetter, using your juices to lube up his ring finger before he slides it in too. you’re a moaning mess, plopping your back onto his desk while your pussy creams and twitches around his fingers. the sounds of his fingers prodding at that spot nonstop is absolutely obscene, causing a hot sensation of embarrassment to cascade over your already hot body. he presses another kiss to your clit that has your back arching off of his desk, urging him to flick his tongue over it a few times.

back arched, legs shaking, tail and ears twitching, hips rocking, toes curling. your hands are pawing at every surface you could reach—gripping the edge of the desk, pulling at his hair, slapping over your mouth.

he’s greedily eating up all of your sounds and movements, relishing in every ounce of pleasure he’s able to pull from you with just his fingers and his tongue. making out with your clit, his lips and tongue are all over that sensitive nub while his index finger is rubbing itself all over your wet skin. now he’s got three fingers curling in you, his hand moving back and forth all while the tips of his fingers keep hitting that squishy part deep inside of you. you’re drowning his fingers in your juices at this point and he’s too busy making out with your clit to lick it all off his fingers. much to his disappointment.

his office is full of the sound of your whining and panting, aided by the lewd squelching of your cunt being stretched out by his fingers. you’re body is covered in sweat, the cold air of snezhnaya forgotten and overwhelmed by the mass amount of heat the pleasure was giving you. a mantra of his name leave your mouth while your hole twitches around his fingers, the heat in your body increasing with each time he presses into that spot until the knot in your stomach finally snaps and you’re falling apart on his desk, succumbing to your own orgasm as your whole body shakes.

he doesn’t stop his movements for a while, too drunk on your pleasure to pull away. it’s not until you’re weakly pushing his head away from your cunt that he pulls his fingers out of your twitching hole, immediately popping them into his mouth and licking up all of your juices. the way he doesn’t look away from you while he darts his tongue up and down every stream as it falls down his hand, drinking every single drop, causes embarrassment to fill you again.

you’re about to protest his actions, your mouth opening only for your words to be cut off by a broken gasp when his head dives back in between your thighs. he’s sliding his tongue over every piece of wet skin he could find, his hands kneading at your pudgy thighs and pushing them apart so he could greedily feast on your cunt once more like a man starved. his tongue is sliding all over your wetness, running over before pushing into your puffy folds all while he’s letting out his own groans of satisfaction.

it’s like he’s getting off on just eating you out, like feasting on your cunt is the only thing he wants to do for the rest of his immortal life. you’re still pushing his head away, mewling, “nooo.. ‘s too much, scara!”

he only responds with a gruff hum, his tongue still plunging into your hole. his eyes are staring into yours, watching as your pretty little pained expression morphs into one of pleasure again before he’s pushing your thighs even further. he manhandles you further up the desk, giving himself room to sit back into his chair while he keeps drinking your juices.

it’s like he’s got a whole meal on his desk, one that he has no intention of wasting—making sure to devour every last drop. your hands are gripping on the edge of the desk, hanging on while your head dangles off the other side. your tail is rapidly wagging now, a telltale sign of how overwhelmed you are yet despite your overstimulation, you’re making no longer trying to push him away. your body’s still sensitive from your previous two orgasms and it’s not long until you’re cumming again, whole body shaking while you push his head away once again.

he reluctantly pulls away, his eyes glued onto the sight of your glistening cunt that seems to be calling him. he has to restrain himself, prying his eyes off of your body and guiding them to your face. “so pretty,” he mutters, standing up and pushing his chair away. he’s standing between your legs again, his hands gently caressing your shaking thighs. he watches as you slowly sit up on his desk, ears and tail still twitching ever so slightly as the rest of your body calms down. “you’re beyond pretty,” he spoke in a gruff voice while his hands move to gently cup your face, resting his forehead against yours. you swore you could see the faintest smile twitching onto his lips for a second before he pressed his lips to yours.

the kiss was soft and sweet and you weren’t sure if it was just because of the taste of your juice’s lingering on his lips. one hand snakes into your hair while the other stayed on your face, thumb caressing your soft cheek while his lips dance with yours. without his mind being clouded by the taste of your cunt, he could feel how painfully hard he was. he pressed his aching cock against you, only separated by his shorts and underwear. he broke the kiss, hissing as his cock throbbed under his clothes, “darling, please.. can i fuck you? please let me fuck you.”

even through his clothes, he could feel the way your hole twitches around nothing at his words. a smirk etches itself onto his lips again as he grinds his clothed cock against you, letting your juices soak into the fabric of his shorts. he cooed, “you’ll let me fuck you, right? gonna let me fuck you nice and good, darling?” he smirks even more when your snaking your arms around his neck, pulling him tightly to your chest. he could feel your soft body through his clothes, his hands sliding down your body to grab at your chubby waist.

he used the grip he had on your waist to guide you to the other side of the desk. you were sitting with the length of the desk behind you, forehead pressed to his while his hands snaked up your waist and to your shirt that was still bunched up over your chest. he slips your shirt off, leaving you completely bare for his greedy eyes to gaze at.

“you won’t be able to fuck me with all your clothes on, y’know,” you teased, your hands sliding down to tug at the hem of his shirt. he nodded and eagerly shed his clothing, his excitement showing in the way he hastily tossed his clothes to the floor. he stood in front of you, his body on display for you and your eyes only while the tips of his ears burned a bright red which he ignored. your eyes scanned over his skinny body, widening when you saw his throbbing cock.

he smirked at your shocked expression, taking a step closer to you and pressing his cock against you. his hands trailed up your arms before cupping your face again, making you look him in the eyes as he teased you, “you’re still gonna let me fuck you, right? gonna let me split you open?” he smirked wider when you swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded. he pressed a soft kiss to your lips before his hands flew down to your thighs, grabbing them and pulling you forward until you sat at the very edge of his desk. your hands were gripping at his shoulders while the two of you watched how he grabbed his cock and guided the pretty, pink tip all over your puffy folds.

taking his time to gather your slick with his dick, he grazed his tip up and down your messy folds. he could feel the way your hole twitched when he pressed into ever so slightly before continuing to slide up and rub on your clit a few times. he was eager to slip it in but he wanted to make sure you’d feel just as good so he took his time rubbing your slick all over his cock before finally lining himself up and giving you one last look.

at your nod of approval, he slowly pushed himself in. you both watched as his cock disappeared into you, letting out your own sounds of desire when he stretched you out. he was only halfway in when you whimpered, stuffing your face into the crook of his neck while your fluffy ears tickled his artificial skin. you made no effort to stop him so he kept pushing in until he finally buried himself balls deep inside of you. both of you could feel the other throb and he groaned deeply at the feeling of your walls squeezing him, “relax, darling. you’re tight enough as it is.”

you chuckled at his words and did your best to relax and let your hole take its time getting accustomed to his girth. he was right—he was splitting you open and the combination of your virgin hole and his thick dick made the stretch even more painful. your hands slid across his back while you pull him into a hug, pressing your bodies even closer together. you’re like a pillow to him, your chubby belly and soft tits press against his own torso in a way so perfect that he’s shifting his weight and making you lay down onto the desk.

the cold surface touches your back, making you shiver underneath him while he leans over you. his hips are sitting flush against yours, remaining unmoving until your fully accustomed to his girth. his head moves into your neck again, lips fluttering all over your skin. it felt like hours for him, having to resist the urge to start slamming himself into you while your walls throbbed and twitched around his aching cock. he wanted you to feel good as well but resisting the urge was getting increasingly difficult with every passing second of your hole sucking him in, all while he’s praying to whatever god would be listening to his fucked up little head that your hole will hurry up and relax so he can finally mold your cunt into the shape of his cock.

after what seemed like centuries, you gave your hips a little roll, the action drawing a matching pair of moans from both of you. he peels his lips off of your neck as he starts slowly moving his hips, light and shallow thrusts as if he’s testing the waters. each time he pulls out, he can feel your hole sucking him right back in and he swears he’s addicted. every pull, every push, every ridge of your walls. every moan, every groan, every squelch of your hole. he’s addicted to it all.

slowly, he starts pulling his cock out more and more, increasing the amount of his girth that he pushes back into you with each thrust. first, it’s one inch, then it’s two, then three, four, five.. all until he pulls out to the very tip just before thrusting all six inches of his fat cock back into your puffy pussy. his hands that were once gripping at your chubby waist so gently begin to tighten and he’s suddenly pulling you to meet his hips with each thrust, using you as a toy for his own pleasure. his breath is ragged and sharp and the feel of your warm walls is making him lose his mind. he’s so lost in it, mind clouded and voice gruff as he groans, “fuck, darling. your pussy is taking me so good. you’re taking me so good.”

you mewl in embarrassment at his words, your walls clenching him and sucking him in deeper. he can only chuckle in response, his laughter getting interrupted by a groan at how a simple clench is enough to bring him closer to his orgasm. he would’ve been fine, would’ve been able to hold back if it weren’t for you and the way you whimpered his name. now, it’s his turn to burn from embarrassment as he prematurely spills his seed into you. you gasp at the warmth before chucking, “aw, scara~ i didn’t know a simple moan of your name could get you to-!”

your teasing words are cut off by your own moans when he stands up straight and pins your thighs to your chest. he glared down at you, face red in embarrassment and anger as he starts to quicken his pace. you’re just as infuriating as the day he met you and he’s putting every ounce of frustration, anger, and love he has for you into every thrust. he’s slamming his hips against yours roughly, the sound of his balls slapping against the curve of your ass harmonizing with the pathetic whines you let out.

he’s got you pinned to his desk, pussy creaming and throbbing with each harsh thrust. a condescending smirk plasters itself onto his lips as he watches you fall apart, angling his hips repeatedly until he’s hitting that squishy spot once again. you let out a mantra of his name once more but this time, all it does it fuel him to slam into you even harder. the tip of his thick cock is abusing that spot deep inside you, sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head while your whole body is coated with a familiar heat. he growls out your name a few times, smirk growing when he feels your pussy clamping him each each syllable, “aw, darling~ i didn’t know a simple moan of your name could get you to be a mewling mess.”

his eyes flick downward, greedily watching the way his cock sheathes into your puffy cunt over and over again. each thrust has a squelch that fills the room and each squelch has your juices rolling down your ass and onto his desk. he clicks his tongue, looking back up to your pretty fucked out face to watch your eyes flutter shut as you drool all over yourself while he pushes your plush thighs up even higher, “such a messy pussy you have, darling. you and your cunt are one in the same—both drooling for me like a slut.”

your mind is simultaneously racing and completely blank, every ounce of your being overwhelmed. he keeps plunging himself into you at a rapid pace that has your back arching off the desk and your legs shaking, ears and tail twitching wildly with each thrust of his cock into that squishy spot. your little fucked out voice rings in his ears, “scara! scara! scara, i’m cumming!”

“that’s it, darling. cum all over my cock like the slut you are. just like that,” he groans, pushing all his weight onto your thighs as he continuously fucks himself into your twitching cunt. there’s a thick coat of sweat over his artificial skin and his breath is ragged as he gives you one last thrust, his tip slamming right into your cervix as his cum bursts into your womb with a drawn out groan of your name. he pulls himself out of your hole, giving you only a second of peace before he’s using his grip on your thighs to flip you over.

the cold surface of his desk is pressing against your bare chest now, making your nipples stiffen even more. you could just barely register the new position before his tip is back to siding over your sensitive pussy. you look over your shoulder to watch him as he’s gripping his cock with one hand while the other runs up and down your back before pressing into your spine, pinning you to the desk. his cock is scooping up all the cum that spilled out of you and pushing it back into your messy pussy. you mewl as he sheaths himself into your sensitive hole once more, “scara, ‘s too much..”

“one last time,” his words carried a demanding tone that he often used with his fatui squad, a tone that made your hole flutter around him, a tone that made your complaint disappear from your brain. he pulled his hand off his cock, slapping it over the fat of your ass before wrapping it around the base of your twitching tail, “you’re gonna take my cum one last time.“

your sensitive tail thrashed wildly in his hold, pathetic whimpers leaving your lips as he started pounding you from behind. his balls slapped against your throbbing clit with each thrust and he reveled in the way your hands grabbed at the edge of the desk on either side of you in an attempt to stabilize yourself. he rubbed at the base of your tail a few times, the pace of his hand much slower than his hips in a way that was absolutely mind numbing. you rested your face against the cold table, eyes trained onto something on the other side of the room that you couldn’t see with the way your vision blurred at the pleasure.

he was fucking his dick against your cervix with ease in this new position, one hand on your back and the other holding your fluffy tail out of the way so he could watch his cock disappear with every harsh thrust of his hips against your ass. he was fucking obsessed. he needed to keep shoving his cock deeper and deeper into you, needed to fill you up with his cum one more time. he let out a deep breath before letting go of your tail and slapping your ass once more. his hands flew to your chubby waist as he leaned over you, pressing his chest on top of your back.

he kept abusing your cervix with his cock, relishing in the way you fully fell apart for him. he lowered his head to yours, smirking at the way you drooled with each thrust. you were starting to buck your hips back, slamming yourself against him for more. you were a moaning mess, eyes rolled back and nails digging into the underside of the desk.

the two of you panted with each other, moaning and groaning as your hips repeatedly met with a loud, wet slap. his hands slipped under your body, pawing at your belly and tits and enjoying how soft you are. his hands had a mind of their own—sliding all over your body while he fucked you from behind, from your neck to your tits to your belly to your thighs. he couldn’t get enough, he’d probably end up fucking you unconscious if he didn’t stop himself soon.

he kneaded your pudgy thighs again while peppering kisses all over the back of your neck and shoulders, the tip of his cock still slamming into your cervix. both of your minds were completely blank, bodies burning and panting heavily. your hole violently twitched around him, your body shaking once again and your tail flicking rapidly, tickling his stomach. he continued to fuck you through your fifth orgasm, not stopping his thrusts even as you whined, “scara! too much! too much!”

“almost done, darling. you want me to fill up this slutty cunt, don’t you?” the smirk on his face was evident in his voice, “so shut up and let me fuck you full of my cum one last time.” he stood up again, his hands pinning you to the desk by your waist as he kept fucking into your abused hole. you clawed at the desk, laying there and letting him fuck your overstimulated cunt some more. one last thrust and you mewled at the warmth that spilled into your womb again. his hips stilled against your ass for a while as he took a moment to catch his breath, his voice tired and gruff, “god.. you did so well, darling.”

he leaned over again, pressing a kiss onto your cheek before pulling himself out of you and plopping back into his chair. you stayed bent over his desk for a while, unable to move your tired body as he shamelessly stared at his seed spilling out of your aching hole. he resisted the urge to fuck his cum back into you, slapping your ass playfully, “c’mon, get up. i still have all that paperwork to do.”

you slowly pushed yourself off of the desk, legs shaking as you glared back at him. he got himself dressed before helping you out with your own clothes. your hands were on his shoulders, keeping yourself steady while he pulled your pants up your legs. he shook his head in faux disappointment, “so.. you were in on it the whole time?”

“of course not. it was all that segment’s idea—i didn’t know until today,” you said, putting your bra and shirt back on.

he blinked for a moment before smirking, “so the second you found out about it, you just had to come see me.”

taglist: @magica-ren

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