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This expedition was NOT going as planned. In fact, you'd go so far to call it the worst expedition you've ever been on.
Firstly, a new recruit had ripped a gaping hole in your tent while you were teaching him how to set up the official Knights of Favonius tents. Fortunately, you had a sewing kit on you.
Secondly, the wind had knocked the needle out of your hand.
Thirdly, the needle had, miraculously, pierced your heater.
So, with no tent, no sewing kit, and no heater, you do the walk of shame to the Grandmaster’s tent that was set up a little outside the camp with everybody else.
“Varka.” You call from outside his tent, clasping your hands behind you.
He recognizes you just by your voice. You have been a knight for a good three years now; he considers you one of the more capable ones, “What do you need, (Y/N)?” He unzips some of the flap, peaking just his head out, “What's with that grim expression, hmm?”
“Are there any other tents? Or heaters.”
He unzips the flap the rest of the way, stepping out of his own tent. “The other recruits have already doubled up. So, unless you would like to double up with m–”
You cut him off, “I want you to tell me if there is another tent I could use.”
He chuckles. His laugh unusually soft; it was usually boisterous. Tonight it wasn't, “I don't recall us having extra tents for this expedition, no.” He sighs, “C'mon, you know I'm being serious about my offer.” His hand gently brushes up against your coat. The guy never wore gloves, you didn't understand.
“Varka, frankly, I'd rather–” And with that, you're promptly hoisted over his shoulder.
You're frozen in shock. Much to your dismay, your body is dangled over his shoulder; his arm braces your lower back. You sigh, giving into his touch. It wasn't everyday you get manhandled by the Grand Master.
“That's a good girl.” He laughs, maneuvering both himself and you back into his tent. He puts you down on his bed mat, then crawls on top of you.
“This is unprofessional.” You say, heat creeping up your neck with an uncomfortable intensity. You want to squirm, but that would only feed into his satisfaction. You try to say as still as you can.
“Doesn't say anything bout this in the handbook. I would know, I helped write it.” He was almost in a plank position on top of you, his knees pressed into you just below yours. You were warm, almost to the point of sweating. A mixture of his heat and your blush hit you both at the same time, “C'mon. You've had a bad night. Let me make it better.”
His offer was hard to refuse. Especially because he was literally on top of you. “When I tell you to stop, you stop.”
“Naturally. I'm not evil.” One of his large hands rises to your face. His fingers were rough, but he brushed the hair out of your face with a certain gentleness that was hard to deny. You know he's always treated you differently than the other knights. Everything felt personal between the two of you. His face leans closer to yours; his breath mixes with yours. “May I?”
“You know the answer…” You murmur.
His lips press to yours. Varka’s face tilts to the side to capture your lips better. He lets the tender kiss linger for a moment before pulling away. Your eyes flutter open, you're met with a smirk and dark, half lidded eyes. “Good.”
Your stomach sinks, but not in a bad way. Your throat closes up, a reminder that you haven't had any action since you were back in Mondstadt. You don't even process that his lips are back on yours until his tongue darts out to lick your lips. Your eyes shut and you go with it. One hand was resting on your cheek, the other bracing his body as to not crush you. Your hands slide up to his dusty, blond hair.
His lips part yours, his tongue pushing between them with an unmatched insistence you've never felt before. He hums, a borderline groan.
You were making out with the Grand Master.
Your lips move in an erotic rhythm. His tongue and teeth elicit illicit sounds from your throat.
He pulls away just long enough to grab you. He flips the two of you around, he's sitting up while you sit on his lap. His hands grab your ass as he pulls you into another heated kiss. Your hands just barely rest on his back.
The kiss turns more desperate and rough. He bites your bottom lip, his nose bumping into yours. He's breathing heavily as he pulls away. “Just like that.” His hands run up and down your body, sending shivers down your spine. “Pretty. You've always been. I've always liked you more than the other knights.”
“It's unprofessional to have favorites.” You manage to get out before your throat closes around a desperate moan.
He chuckles, low and deep, like he can't believe you just said that. “Unbutton my shirt.”
“Wha–” Your voice breaks as his hands grab your wrists, guiding your hands to his chest. His touch was insistent. Demanding. You find it hard to deny him. Your fingers shakily work at his buttons, slowly and carefully undoing them one by one. His chest is slowly revealed to you, along with his abs. He shrugs his coat and shirt off his shoulders.
He flips the two of you around again, so he's on top. Your back is pressed into the lingering warmth on his shirt beneath you. He guides your face to his neck, you instinctively start kissing the sensitive skin. His hand grips the back of your head. He lets out an embarrassing moan when your tongue licks his pulsepoint, “Ah… good.”
His hips press into yours, pushing down with the perfect amount of friction. It makes your head spin as your lips and tongue and teeth continue to work at his neck.
He pulls the hair at the back of your head, pulling you back. You had left a few hickeys and bite marks along his neck. He's breathing hard, but so are you. You resist his pull, pressing your lips to the planes of his chest instead. His whine is nasally. He tugs your hair harder, far enough where he can get a good look at your face. “Pretty…good girl…” He whispers, his tone erotic and low. He lets your head fall against his coat below you, his hand reaching for the buckle of your belt. He undoes the clasp with one hand. His hips jerk downwards toward yours as he slips your pants down your legs. He throws them into the corner of the tent, then works on your coat. That lands on top of your pants.
“Varka…” You gasp. His hand pushes up your shirt as his face comes to rest near your stomach.
“I'm taking these off with my teeth.” His teeth nip at the skin of your stomach before closing around the fabric of your panties.
“Varka…” You shakily moan. You were a responsible adult, and, frankly, the situation you were in right now was very irresponsible.
He uses his hands to slip off your panties once they reach your knees. They land on top of your coat. He bends your legs and sticks his face between them. His nose pressed against your core. Then a kiss. His large hands held your hips in place. “You gonna be quiet? Can't have the other knights hear you scream my name.”
“Stop…” You whisper, swallowing the sound of pleasure that threatens to leave your throat.
He freezes, then lifts his head from between your legs. “What?” He says, breathlessly.
“Unlike you, I actually have some dignity to uphold. I can't…”
“You know I'll take good care of you. I'm gentle.”
“I know, I know. But in a tent?”
“You're gonna blueball me now?” He would let you, even if it caused him pain. He did say he would stop when you told him to.
You sigh. You guess you did escalate the situation just as much as he did. It's not that you didn't want him, you just don't want him in a tent.
“This is the only time we're doing this here.”
“You're saying you want to fuck me again somewhere else later, then?” He jokes, the smirk back on his face. But it melts away as quickly as it came, “Thank you. For being honest with me. I know these aren't the best conditions for… love making, I hope you can forgive me.”
Oh… the way his voice was so soft and sincere… it gave you butterflies, “I'll forgive you if your dick is big enough.”
He laughs, his face fitting itself back between your legs. His tongue starts to work at your slick lips, getting you just loose enough to fit him. Once he's happy with his work, he quickly undoes his belt and pants. He slides them down his legs with an excitement that makes you, well, excited. “You ready for me?” He says, stroking himself, “I don't want to hurt you.”
You nod, “Yes…” your voice is breathless and quiet.
He lines himself up, then slowly pushes himself in. “Fuuuuuck…” He gasps. His hands come to rest on either side of your head. He was breathing heavily, his hot breath touching your face, “You're so wet for me.”
He starts to move inside you. Slow, careful motions at first. Once he's sure he's not hurting you, he moves faster. More rough, desperate.
He was toe-curling, fist-clenching, eye-rolling, lip-bitingly amazing. Missionary with eye contact wasn't a usual position for you, but Varka made it good. He relishes your gasps and moans, chuckling breathlessly when you make a particularly loud one. “That's it… just like that…”
“Ahh… mmhhnm…”
“Yeah. Take it, take it. Take me.” His hands wrap around your wrists, holding them in place. He thrusts deep and hard.
That only lasts a few minutes, however.
“I'm… close.” You say, wavering on the edge of a climax.
“Good girl. Come for me.” His voice is deep and husky. You whine. His thrusts become relentless and harder to resist. You finish shortly, he continues his barrage on your core. You can tell he's on the edge once he begins to pant. You feel him fill you up. He goes straight and tense. His head bowed with hair covering his eyes, catching his breath.
He pulls out, collapsing next to you. “Why are you still wearing a shirt?” He mumbles, taking the article of clothing off of you. He unclasps your bra with one hand. Those pieces land in the pile of clothes in the corner of the tent. He grabs you, pulling you closer. Bare skin on bare skin. Intimate. Too intimate.
He falls asleep much too easily. You pull the covers over the two of you and fall asleep shortly after.
“(Y/N).” You wake up to your name being whispered into your ear. A gentle, that borderlined tender, tone. Your eyes flutter open. Varka's sitting beside you. Much to your dismay, he is fully dressed, “I got you your clothes.” He holds up a pair of your panties, the lacy pair you had accidentally packed. They weren't very comfortable to fight in.
He reaches under the covers, his fingers dipped in frosty air. He slides them on you. “Mm. Makes me want to eat you out.”
“I told you, not here.”