Deal Me In, Kick The Sin Up A Notch!

He has you fully nude and on your back on the futon, hair splayed on the fabric, your bare legs pulled up and spread open for his shameless gaze. His outer layer of clothing had been shed when the two of you had called an end to the day earlier, his geta by the sliding door and his box put away in one corner of the room - but otherwise, he was still fully clothed. All of his focus had been entirely on you for what felt like forever now.

His touch was deceptively gentle, tender like a proper lover should be, but when your thighs gave a little twitch like they might close, his grip didn't budge an inch, keeping you firmly where he wanted you. The only sign he gave that he even noticed your attempt at movement was the way his red-rimmed eyes narrowed just the slightest bit as his tongue slipped out between his lips to trace slowly down your thigh. You thought there might have been the faintest quirk at the corner of his lips, a little smirk on his face at your flushed expression, but you couldn't tell if it was real or just his makeup. Both, most likely. He kept eye contact with you all the while as his mouth slid from the corner of your knee and down your thigh, slow and warm and leaving a trail of fire under your skin as he went. His hands gripped both of your legs by the back of your knees to keep you spread open for him all the while. 

He finally looks away from your eyes for a moment, staring down half-lidded at the heat between your legs, parted and wet for him. He's been taking his sweet time with you, the way his warm hands had roamed and squeezed over your clothes as he’d stripped you piece by piece, the way his tongue had pushed between your lips to taste you with one hand on the back of your head, the way he'd nipped lightly at your throat with those sharp canines of his and then breathily chuckled at the way you’d trembled… he was not a man who rushed. 

He took his time even now, mouthing at your inner thigh as he moved lower and lower, alternating between slow, warm kisses and soft bites and soothing it over with wet presses of his tongue. The way he'd looked into your eyes before had made you feel put on the spot, like he was soaking up every reaction you gave - but the way he looked down now at your spread lips, the slick between your thighs as you panted for him to stop playing with you already, made you feel like he was devouring you with his eyes. He hadn’t even touched you properly yet, but you felt like you’d lose it any moment now. 

He lowers his head until you could feel his breath right over your aching clit, impatient for him - but he still doesn't give you what you want. Not yet. He turns his head to lick at the junction where thigh meets hips, pulls your legs apart wider to watch you spread open obscenely, and you let your head fall back half in hazy arousal and half in embarrassment. Or maybe the embarrassment just made everything so much hotter, you couldn’t quite tell. You don't hear him laugh, but you feel the puffs of hot air against your inner thigh and you know he's amused again. 

Everything you do seems to amuse him somehow. 

He lowers himself right over your aching cunt, hot air puffing over your entrance - and then you hear him inhale through his nose. Not loud, not obscene - like he was just smelling a faint breeze outdoors. Like he was smelling a new candle, or burning incense. Like he was committing the scent to his memory.

You think you could die there, with how hot your face suddenly felt. 

Then he stops. You don't even notice it at first, mind too hazy with heat and embarrassment and need all tangled up together until you bit down on your lip to keep from quite literally whining for him to just put his mouth on you already. A heartbeat passes, then two, and you finally realize. You lift your head to peek down at him, breathing heavy and flushed all the way down your chest, and you see him there between your legs, painted lips parted just enough to show his sharp teeth, his blonde hair falling over his eyes, lit up with a mischievous glint as he looks right into your own eyes.

"This is as far as the book goes."

For an embarrassingly long moment, you don’t even comprehend that he’d just spoken at all. Then it takes you another moment to actually hear his words, and another to understand what he was saying. He patiently watched your expression throughout this little endeavor. Your thighs tense like you want to close them again as if to punish him for what he’d said, but he holds them open without struggle, never looking away from you.

It's a tease - you know it's a tease. There's no way he'd light you up like that, taking his time just to build up how badly you needed him, and end it right there because that stupid picture book of his didn't explain step by step what happened next. He liked to do this sometimes, he liked to play around with that deadpan look on his face and the quiet, steady voice, just to get a reaction out of you when you couldn’t tell if he was playing or not. Every time, you told yourself you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of one. Every time, you fail.

This was no different. Your brows furrow in frustration, you bite your lip to keep the colorful swear that almost passed your lips held back, and then your body betrays you with a useless clench around nothing just because you ached for him too much. His blue eyes dart down the moment it happens, absolutely no mistake that he’d caught the little involuntary spasm, then back up to meet your gaze with a far-too-smug tilt of his head, and once again you think you could die with the heat that rushes to your face.

His painted lips part but before he could say a damn thing, you spoke up, voice shaky with heat and hoarse with embarrassment just to say, "Shut your mouth."

Immediately, obediently, his lips shut again. Then he smiled, his grip on the back of your knees pulling your thighs apart just a liiiitle further as if reminding you of the position you were in, and then he spoke again anyway.

"Oh? You don't want my mouth after all?"

You frown, face red and thighs trembling. 

“Not what I said…” you murmur, trying your damndest to think of a proper comeback through the haze of arousal in your mind and body. “...just that there are better uses for it than saying something stupid.”

His eyes narrow, brows lowering just the slightest bit, when you call whatever he was going to say stupid. He thinks about dragging it out even more just for that… but he settles on giving in instead.

"Greedy," he teased, a warm purr in his voice. Then he dipped his head without another word and gave one long, slow lick through your folds with the flat of his tongue. It wasn’t that much, just another tease, just a little taste of what you were burning for - but after the long buildup to get there, it felt like everything. You let your head fall back against the futon again, thighs clenching, and let out a pitiful little sound that you tried and failed to hold back. 

He grins fully this time, teeth glinting in the low light of the room, and you swear under your breath.

Doesn't even hold his teases back, he is a sarcastic and teasing bastard and he is proud of it.

"If you missed me, you could've just said so, why so be aggressive, dear?"

Yeah... you arent living this, or anything in particular, down with this man. He'll bring even exact date of things that happened if it'll make you flustered.

Will make suggestive remarks, I mean it's ri, what do we expect??

In busy times, he'll drop in a small teasing and a kiss there before returning to his work

Kon

"Huh-??"

Baatard no2

Again, these kusuriuris are no joke, you get pulled back against his chest in no time before you could even see the other side of the door you came in.

Playful in a challenging way

Oh you gave him a kiss? He gives you two. You gave him two? That's four kisses.

That's a kiss battle i see right there.

You two probably get in a peppering battle once or twice before

He also teases, but his remarks uses less sarcasm and more playfulness in a way that is intentional. He knows when to add double meanings or keep it light.

"Aww, you missed me that much, dear?? Maybe i should make myself an aphrodisiac–"

It's still a small challange in busy times. Two kisses and a silent promise to tackle you to a duel once he returns

my dear, dear bunny,

i know my solitary confinement is only for a few days, but it feels like an eternity has passed. i can't tell you how utterly boring it is just sitting here, doing mundane things like staring out the window, and wondering if it's going to rain today or not.

they are even making me catch up on all the mission reports i haven't done yet! can you believe that? and i am actually doing them because it's so so so boring.

on the upside, i have taken up the little hobby of making candy. i believe i have perfected a chewing gum long lasting flavor. i have made you a few pieces of candy that i think you'll really enjoy. i also made some no bake fudge. it was easier than i thought it would be.

and here i thought fudge was supposed to be complicated to make. and hard to perfect.

there are no monsters for me to fight. no traps to set for varka. no you. i really don't like only hearing your voice through the door. i hate not being able to get my hands on you when i want.

i got your care package. i can't tell you how often i bring that piece of paper you sprayed with your perfume to my nose, and inhale your scent. please, do wear that perfume when i get out of confinement.

my dear bunny, i also need to tell you something. i have an itch. an itch that only you can scratch once i get out.

i want you to sit on my face, and grind that pretty pussy of yours on my tongue. i think the couch in varka's office sounds like the perfect place.

i can just feel it now. your thighs squeezing around my head, your pussy drooling on my face while i lap at your hole. your thighs spasming if i suck your cute little clit a certain way. you don't know what that does to me.

please, grind your cunt on my mouth as much as you want. squeeze your thighs around my head while you whimper. don't worry when i make you feel boneless, bunny.

i will simply grab onto your hips, and help you ride my tongue. i encourage you to play with your tits if you are feeling extra good. the sight of pinching your nipples while i tongue fuck your clit makes me even harder.

ugh, time is going to pass by so slow. i just want to taste you cumming on my mouth. feel you tremble from orgasm. hear your sweet little voice cry for me while you cum.

nights have been very long without you.

yours always,

lohen

---

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

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

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

Fuck he’s getting closer way too fucking close.

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

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

“BOO!” 

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

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

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

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

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

THUD!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You stare up at him, chest heaving.

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

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

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

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

The insult lights him up like fireworks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

“Wait!- hngh!-”

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

“F-ffuck! Didn’t you hear me??”

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

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

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

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

“I’ll remind you.”

He starts moving.

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

Then harder. Meaner.

Each thrust timed with that same cheerful, hollow voice.

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

You gritted your teeth and tried to twist away.

He’s too heavy. Too deep. Too gone.

“Ajax, ngh! puhleeasee! This isn’t!-”

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

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

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

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

He’s screaming between giggles. 

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

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

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

“NO!”

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

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

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

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

His leaking precum making an obscene mess between your thighs.

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

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

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

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

In his shattered mind, this is a date.

The only one that matters.

And he’s never letting it end.

🔪 DOTTORE — Exhibit A

“You brought this on yourself, you know.” 

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

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

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

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

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

Your mind is spinning so fast it hurts.

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

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

He killed him. 

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

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

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

The ache between your legs is getting worse. 

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

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

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

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

And then it hits.

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

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

Fuck

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shame burns hotter than the aphrodisiac. 

Shame on you.

Shame on you for even considering giving him another chance.

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

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

What a fuckin' joke. 

You left him for a reason.

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

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

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

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

That you were just his favorite little experiment. 

And yet here you are. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He laughs softly, dark and cruel.

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

Your ex smiled eerily and slowly took off his glove.

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

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

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

Your pride is crumbling fast.

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

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

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

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

Damn him

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Smack!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Soft at first. Almost sweet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s what breaks you.

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

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

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

Then his smile turns sharper.

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

You try to move your legs.

Nothing.

From the waist down… you’re completely paralyzed.

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

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

🔪 RERIR — Fuck Your New Guy

He’s going to kill him. Right now.

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

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

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

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

You ran, his eyes say. 

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

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

CRACK!

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

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

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

How did this happen?

Why you?

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

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

He’s right in front of you. 

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

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

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

Already. Before you can even think.

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

Rerir stares at you, eyes narrowed in genuine confusion.

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

It should bother him.

…it doesn’t.

He tunes most of it out. 

The rambling. 

The apologies.

The way your voice keeps cracking. 

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

“—I can make it up to you.”

Oh

There she is.

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

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

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

You know exactly what he means. 

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

He was. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Ok wait- Rerir— I didn’t mean—”

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

He doesn’t give you time to breathe.

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

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

You whimper as he frees his cock.

It’s monstrous.

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

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

“Fuck no.”

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

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

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

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

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

SCHLCK!

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

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

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

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

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

He rolls his hips again. 

Slow and greedy. 

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

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

“I can’t— I’ve never—”

“You will.”

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

“This is what you owe me.”

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

The first real thrust tears a sharp sting through you.

Blood.

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

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

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

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

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

You can’t think. 

Can’t even speak. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“F-FFUCK! RIRI!”

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

Rerir goes completely still for half a second. 

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

His next thrust comes slower. 

Deeper n’ more deliberate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Being fucked through peak after peak.

Thrust after thrust all targeting that same ruined spot.

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

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

🔪 VARKA — “Too Much?” 

I’m so mature. 

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

Pink. Then red. Then clear again.

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

Heh. Mature.

The rag rips clean down the middle.

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

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

Three weeks of that bullshit looping in his skull. 

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

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

Now the cabin reeks of iron.

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

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

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

He's mature.

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

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

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

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

3...2…1

“VARKA WHAT THE HELL!”

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

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

You’re frozen in the doorway.

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

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

And there’s Varka. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is exactly why you left him.

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

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

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

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

Your vision goes black before you even hit the floor.

.

.

🔪

SCHLCK! SCHLORP! SCHLCK!

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

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

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

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

“NGHH… FUH—?!”

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

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

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

He rocks you on his cock like you weigh nothing.

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

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

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

“V-Varka— what?—are you AH! doing?!!”

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

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

SCHLORP! 

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

PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!

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

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

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

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

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

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

He groans way more animalistic than before.

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

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

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

One brutal thrust punches the air out of you.

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

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

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

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

Every word gets more feral.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ok look Varka… you’re scaring me—”

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

“Good.”

Because he is scaring you.

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

You left him weeks ago.

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

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

You ran.

He let you.

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

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

Cause’ he’s handling it well!

Now here you are.

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

And you’re still trying to talk him down.

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

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

“Look at me. Being reasonable.”

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

SCHLORP—!

Thick ropes of fresh cum flood your insides without warning.

Hot. Endless. He doesn’t stop moving.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

a/n: im glad they didn’t overreact 😌

♡ 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 ♡

Pretty little bun bun. That's what you saw. Sleepy crimson peepers half lidded like he just woke up from a nap about slaugering yet another ruin guard. Twitchy nose that wiggles when he's thinking about... what, manslaughter? And those ears… Silky, with the softest inner velvet you've ever seen. They flick and flop and flutter with every single emotion that crosses his deranged little face. 

And you, stupid little apex predator that you are, looked at this deranged little creature and thought: prey.

Bottom of the food chain, theoretically. It's written in the goddamn stars, etched into the bones of the world by evolution itself. Natural order of things: cute little bun buns get eaten by big scary kitty cats. 

And you are, obviously, from the second group. A whole ass lynx hybrid, honey. Tufted ears that swivel like furry radar dishes, picking up the faintest rustle of prey in the underbrush. Claws that could fillet a boar and use its ribs for toothpicks. Unmatched speed (oh, how he would mock you later), and strength (and he still could pin you down effortlessly). And that natural swagger that screams louder than any roar.

So you got comfortable. A bit arrogant. Fucking stupid, if you ask me.

But you probably wonder what exactly you did to end up in that burrow? 

Well, you flicked one of those silky soft mint ears in the hallway outside the library and called him a bottom of a food chain right in front of Sucrose, who choked on her own spit and practically teleported out of existence in a cloud of panicked anemo particles. 

You thought you were being funny. A little harmless fun, yeah? A playful swat from the big cat to the little bunny.

Mistake!

Because that particular bunny came off the assembly line fucking defective. They dropped him on his fluffy little head as a kit, or maybe his momma drank some bad firewater while he was in the womb, or whatever. You don't know what exactly happened, but something crucial snapped. Instead of developing a healthy ‘oh gods please don't eat me’ fear response to things with fangs, his brain rewired it into an obsession with the specific threat of being eaten. 

To put it bluntly, Lohen looked at your proud predator stride and saw a dumb, pretty recruit who he could reduce to a drooling, cunt clenching, begging mess. 

And oh, this motherfucker knows that he’s pretty and has something to seduce you with. He's got those big crimson eyes that can go from ‘uwu I'm just a soft little bunny’ to ‘I'm going to skin you alive’ in the space of a heartbeat. He's got those long legs that he loves to show off, wearing those high boots that cling to every lean line and curve. And let's not even mention his ass, presented so perfectly in those tight white trousers.  He's got this lean and flexible body that he loves to show off.

After that single incident with a flick, it starts small. A hand on your lower back, fingers splayed, pressing just a little too firmly, lingering just a little too long. Him demanding you for the training. His hip bumping yours when he falls into step beside you. 

"Vice Captain, what are you doing?" you hiss, trying to sidestep away.

"Walking with my favorite recruit," he says, beaming up at you. His hand finds your elbow, tucking himself against your side like he belongs there. His body is warm and surprisingly solid against yours. "You smell nice today. New soap?" He inhales deeply, nose practically pressed to your neck, and makes a satisfied little sound. "Mhm. That's the good stuff."

You try sparring, because you're still operating under the adorable delusion that size and species fucking matter. You're a lynx hybrid, and he's a rabbit. It should be easy; there is no way it wouldn’t work. 

So you corner him in the training yard, claws half-extended, tail lashing behind you.

"Alright, cottonball," you sneer, putting every ounce of predator into the word. "Gonna bounce away like a good little snack?"

Lohen just tilts his head and looks at you with those dead fish eyes, and a little smile plays at the corner of his lips. 

"Snack?" he echoes, voice light and airy. His eyes flutter closed, and he lets out a breathy little moan as his spine pops as he stretches. "Oh, kitten…" He drops his arms and rolls his shoulders. "You’re such a stupid, feral little pussycat. I guess it’s my responsibility to train you to sit, stay, and ro–"

You lunge, fed up with his nonsense.

Your claws catch his collarbone, and three perfect furrows bloom red and angry against his pale skin. Blood wells up immediately, fat and ruby-red and hot, coppery scent hitting the air between you. 

Honestly, you expect him to let out a high-pitched squeak of fear and bounce away, running like a good little prey hybrid.

Instead?

"Hahhhhnnn~" The moan vibrates straight from the depths of his chest, travels through the air like a physical touch, and lands with a throbbing ache right in the core of your suddenly traitorous cunt.

"What the fuck?" you hiss, stumbling back a step. Your claws are still wet with his blood, but you are afraid to tear your eyes away from him.

His ears go flat, plastered against that messy hair. His whole body shudders, and you watch, transfixed, as a visible tremor runs down his spine and makes that plump little tail give an excited thump-thump-thump against the small of his back.

"Oh, kitten~" His voice is dripping with something absolutely filthy. "You have no idea how good that felt." 

He rolls the wounded shoulder, watching a thick droplet of his own blood snake a hot trail down the corded muscle of his bicep. His tongue darts out and drags across his lower lip, chasing the scent of his own blood mingling with your sweat. 

Your breath hitches when Lohen steps forward, right into your space. Close enough that you can see the way his pupils have swallowed the crimson of his irises almost completely. 

His hand comes up, but your body is frozen, caught between predator instinct and something that's coiling hot and tight in your belly. His fingers find your chin. Tilt your face up. His thumb traces along your lower lip.

"Look at you," Lohen murmurs, and his voice is liquid condescension. "Big, scary lynx. All those fangs and claws. And you're standing here, terrified." He leans in, his lips brushing yours. "Want to know a secret, kitten?"

"What?" Your voice is barely a whisper, and you hate how shaky it sounds.

His free hand grabs your wrist, still wet with his blood, and presses it flat right over his heart.

"I'm not scared of you," he breathes. "You know what I am?" His hips roll forward, and you feel it – the hot, hard, throbbing line of his erection pressing against your hip. "I'm intrigued." He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, that unhinged smile spreading across his pretty face. "Imagine what you'd do to me if you actually tried to eat me…"

His hips give a tiny little jerk against your thigh, and you feel it again, pressing insistently into the muscle. He's rock hard from you clawing him open, hell, from talking about you wanting him.

"But here's the thing, kitten." His voice drops to a conspiratory whisper, lips brushing yours with every word. "I'm not the prey here."

Something snaps in you – fear or fury or some unholy cocktail of both – and you jerk forward and sink your fangs into the junction of his neck and shoulder. You taste blood, hot and metallic and his, flooding over your tongue. 

His body goes rigid against yours, every muscle locking up, that plump little tail thumping frantically against his back.

And then you feel the pulse of his cock, twitching in his pants, soaking the fabric of your pants. His whole body shudders with a broken sob tearing from his throat. His hands fly up to grip your hair, holding you against his neck, keeping your teeth buried in his flesh as he humps your leg like a filthy animal.

"Ffffffuck– yes– fuck, don't stop–"

You release him, shoving him off, stumbling backward. Your mouth is smeared with his blood, but still, you are the one who is shaking like a leaf under his gaze.

Lohen just slumps back against the training post with a blissed-out smile spreading across his flushed face. His croth is visibly wet, but he doesn't seem to care. 

"You're a freak," you spit, voice trembling. "A fucking freak."

"Yeah." He pushes off the post, sauntering toward you with that bouncy walk. "But I'm your freak now." He tilts his head, showing off the bleeding bite mark. "Fair's fair, kitten." 

He pats your cheek, and the touch is so fucking condescending, especially from the guy who came in his pants when you bit him. You thank the anemo archon that at least nobody is on the training grounds to witness the whole embarrassing incident.

"See you at morning roll call, pet." Lohen winks, turns, and hops away, that fluffy tail bouncing with every step.

And suddenly, the day after, because the universe is a cruel cunt that loves to watch you squirm, Varka is slapping your shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise in the shape of his palm: "You're under Lohen's command now!"

Your brain short-circuits. " Wh– The... the rabbit?"

"The Vice Captain!" the beefy wolf hybrid corrects, beaming like he just handed you a puppy. "Sharpest mind and aggressive tactics I've ever seen. You'll learn a lot. Just... try not to let him get under your skin. He's got a talent for it."

Congrats, this herbivore is your boss now.

And then he's just... there. Everywhere. All the goddamn time. Bastard is basically shitting on the very concept of your freedom, and you can't even catch him to return the favor.

You smell the astringent bite of mint just around every corner. The air gets cold right behind you sometimes. When you spin, weapon drawn, claws out, ready to gut the stalker, there's nothing. Just the phantom thump-thump-thump of that fluffy tail and a breathy giggle that echoes down the hallway.

And the notes. Slipped under your door. Tucked into your boot. Folded into your training notes. Sometimes, to your genuine horror, appearing on your nightstand in the morning.

"Saw you stretching today. You are so… flexible…"

"You growled at that deer boy who bumped into you. Got me really worked up."

"Wore my tightest pants today. Did you notice? I saw you looking. ♡"

The dog hybrid boy who takes an interest in you doesn't know any of this. 

He's new, transferred from some border outpost, all muscle and misplaced confidence. He's been watching you for a week now, his hopeful eyes tracking you across the mess hall, the training yard, the corridors. You've noticed, because, well, it's hard not to notice. He's big, and he smells like wet dog, and his tail wags every time you so much as glance in his direction.

And tonight, in the Angel's Share, he makes his move, sliding into the seat across from you with a blush so heavy it could rival a fresh sunsettia's colour.

"H-hey there," he slurs, visibly nervous. His scent is all eager-pup arousal and cheap ale. "You look really pretty today… N-no, that's not– I mean, you're always pretty, it's just today I finally got the guts to–"

The air turns sharp with frost before you even see him. One moment, the dogboy is stuttering through his confession, the next there's a slender, scarred hand fisting into his hair, yanking his head back at a brutal angle. The cold steel of a knife presses flat against the column of his throat, resting there with the weight of a promise.

"Sniff sniff."

Lohen inhales theatrically right beside the hybrid's ear, his nose brushing the fur, his crimson eyes fixed unblinkingly on you. A wide, sharp, utterly unhinged smile splits his pretty face, revealing those deceptively dainty incisors. His voice is lighter than chimes, softer than a lullaby, and it’s the most terrifying thing you have ever heard.

"Mhm. That's the smell. It's like... warm cream and soft flesh, isn't it? Makes your knot swell up just thinking about sinking into that wet heaven, huh?” Lohen's grip on the dagger tightens, and that unhinged note becomes more prominent in his voice. “But here’s a problem… You've been sniffing around what's mine, pup. That's very, very rude. Do you know what happens to rude strays who try to take what's mine?"

The knife tilts, just a fraction. A single bead of red wells against the poor bastard’s skin and rolls down the poor guy’s throat. The dogboy makes a keening whimper that cuts off when Lohen’s grip tightens.

"I'll tell ya," Lohen continues, still in that gentle tone. His eyes never leave yours. He’s putting on a show, you understand, and he wants you to witness every second. "First, I take this dagger, and I carve out your eyes. Then I pack your throat with cryo shards. Then I open your belly and watch the light leave your eyes while I pull out your insides. And when you’re finally dead, I’m going to take your fucking dick–”

He presses the knife a little harder, and the dogboy sobs.

“–and I’m going to have it in a jar, like a talisman. I’ll hang it on the wall of the burrow where I keep my mate, so every time I breed her to tears, she can look at it and remember what happens to anyone who tries to take her from me.”

Lohen pauses, tilts his head, and that smile somehow softens into something almost fond. He pats the trembling boy’s cheek with two condescending little tap-taps from his free hand.

"But I'm feeling generous tonight, because my beloved is right here watching, and I want to reward her patience. So I'll give you one chance.” He licks his lips, and you feel the twinge of something warm in your belly. Something that you shouldn't feel in that situation. “You’re going to walk out of this tavern while having your organs in the original packaging. Next, you’re going to write the transfer request. Finally, you’re going to fuck off back to that shithole that you crawled out from before sunrise. Are we clear?"

The dogboy nods eagerly. Lohen wrinkles his nose, releases him with a shove that sends him sprawling to the floor, and watches with lazy satisfaction. “Good pup.”

Poor dog hybrid scrambles to his feet and bolts for the door, slipping once in a hurry.

“Bye-bye~” he sing-songs cheerfully in the dead silent tavern. Every patron is staring. Lohen ignores them all, turning to you, twirling the dagger between his fingers with a casual elegance that makes your stomach clench and your cunt throb. That unhinged smile melts into something softer, but no less terrifying.

"Wha’?" He asks, as if he hadn't just graphically detailed a murder in a public establishment. "Can't have the strays thinking you're available."

You sit frozen, heart hammering against your ribs, every instinct screaming at you to run, to fight, to do anything except sit here while Lohen saunters closer. He stops between your spread thighs and looks down at you with those black-hole eyes, pupil swallowed irises gleaming with mania and adoration in equal measure.

"I'm not yours," you manage, voice trembling. "You can't just scare away people who try to approach me!"

Lohen smirks, leans in, lips brushing the shell of your fluffy ear, breath scorching.

"I can, and I just did," he whispers and pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. His hand, the one still holding the dagger, comes up and rests the flat of the blade against your cheek. The metal is ice-cold, and you flinch. He traces the edge along your jawline, feather-light, never breaking skin. 

"I'll see you soon," he breathes, patting your burning cheek with a knife. “Try not to drip too much on Master Diluc's floor.”

Lohen winks, turns, and hops away, that fluffy tail giving a sassy little flick with every bounce of his perfect ass. The tavern slowly returns to life, whispers filling the silence he left behind as you sit there, frozen.

Since then, it’s gotten worse.

You're losing yourself. That sassy predator that you were decides to rest somewhere inside of you, and no matter how hard you try, you can't bring it out.

It's humiliating, really.

Every time you catch a glimpse of those soft ears or that juciest piece of ass you’ve ever seen on a male, you have to restrain yourself from reaching out and touching. The dreams are the worst – dreams where he pins you down and whispers the most horrific words while doing even worse things. You wake up soaked and gasping, fists full of sheets that reek of him because the sick bastard has been breaking into your room and rubbing his scent all over your bedding. It's not helping that your heat is nearing rapidly, making you more sensitive and jumpy.

So one day you finally snap. All it takes is too much wine mixed with this creeping dread curling in your belly. Just enough liquid stupidity to think you're still the fucking predator in this equation. 

You corner your Vice Captain outside the city gates under a sickly yellow moon.

"Why don't you just bounce away, you little freak?!" you snarl, swaying, fur bristling along your tail, claws itching to rend. "You're a rabbit! You're supposed to be scared of me! That's the whole goddamn deal!"

Lohen turns to face you with an expression of serene delight, as if you've just offered him the most precious gift imaginable. A visible shiver that starts at his nose and travels down his spine, ending with his fluffy, cream-tipped tail giving a sharp thump-thump-thump against the stone archway that he's leaning on.

"Scared?" he repeats, and there's a laugh bubbling under the word when he steps closer. "Oh, kitten, you are really that dumb~" 

He stops right in front of you, close enough to kiss, and tilts his head, those big crimson eyes looking at you with mock innocence. 

"You're just a big, growly kitty with a wet little cunt and a brain that short-circuits every time I shake my ass."

"I am not!" The words tumble out, angry but unsure.

"You are~" He reaches up and flicks your nose, like you're the cute little pet. The audacity makes your claws twitch, but your body refuses to move. "You're so easy, kitten. I barely have to try. A little ear flick here, a little bounce there–" He demonstrates, bouncing lightly on his heels, "–and you're drooling."

Pissed off, you lunge at him – claws out, fangs bared, all that rage finally reaching its peak – but your drunk limbs are stupidly predictable. Lohen sidesteps easily, hooking one leg behind yours and catching you as you stumble. One deceptively strong arm snakes around your waist. Your legs buckle, and suddenly his face is too close, watching you with that unnerving stillness.

"There we go," he coos, holding you upright as you gasp and shudder against him.

"F-fuck you–" you spit, but it comes out as a sob.

"Soon, kitten. Just let me–" He shifts his grip, and the world tilts violently. One arm hooks under your knees, the other braces your back, and suddenly you're on his shoulder, staring at the mud and cobblestones whizzing past in a blur as he carries you into the treeline of Wolvendom.

You claw at his arms, his back, anything you can reach. Your nails leave furrows in the fabric of his coat, tear the cotton of his shirt, and draw thin lines of blood across his shoulder blades. He just moans louder and speeds up, those stringy legs eating up the ground.

“Put me down!” You whine, trying to punch him in the ribs with your knee. 

“M’kay!” Lohen suddenly agrees and drops you into some kind of hole under an ancient oak. You land on a pile of blankets so soft they must've cost your entire year's salary. 

It's a den, you understand after a second. Dug deep, shored up with gnarled roots, the air inside cold and still and smelling faintly of mint. There's a flask of fresh water. A neat little pyramid of sunsettias. A plate of fine steak, cut into delicate little ribbons. And in the center of it all – the nest. A little hollow lined with soft grasses, even more blankets, and what you now recognize as tufts of fur he's plucked from his own tail and ears, woven together to cradle two bodies.

"Lohen, this is–" you breathe, scrambling backward on the blankets until your back hits the earthen wall. "You can't just–"

"Can't what?" He's kneeling in the entrance, a dark silhouette blocking out the stars, pulling his shirt over his head with a languid roll of tight muscle. His pale torso is a fucking roadmap of battles, scars overlapping scars, some old and white, some newer, pink and puckered. And among them, fresh, still-bleeding furrows from your claws, beading crimson. You take note of the imprint of your teeth on his neck.

"Can't claim what's mine?" he finishes for you, crawling forward on hands and knees. "Can't build a proper den for my girl like any self-respecting male? Can't bring you offerings and keep you warm and safe and full? Can’t help my mate with her heat?" He leans forward, bracing his hands on either side of your head, caging you in. His face is centimeters from yours, those black-hole eyes boring into your soul. He smiles, predator-sharp. 

"Get off me, freak!" You bare your fangs and roar, trying to scare this fucked in the head herbivore.

"Make me." Lohen grinds his hips down, and you feel the hot, hard, throbbing length of him pressing against your clothed cunt. The pressure is perfect, and a moan escapes before you can stop it. 

"C’mon, make me!" His smile widens and his hips roll, slow and filthy, dragging the ridge of his cock along your slit through the fabric. "Tell me you didn’t rub this cunt raw while dreaming of me…."

You try to shove Lohen off, but he catches your wrists and pins them above your head with one hand – one fucking hand, and he's a small animal hybrid and a herbivore at that, how is he so fucking strong – and leans down until his lips brush your ear.

"I've been courting you for months," he whispers, and the words drip off his tongue like honey laced with ground glass and obsession. "And you... Ohhhh, you've been waving this dumb little kitty cunt in my face the whole time. Flicking my ears. Making me bleed. Letting me stalk you..." He pulls back, looking down at you with those wild eyes. "And now... finally... I have you exactly where you belong. In my den. In my nest. Under me." 

His free hand comes up to cup your jaw, thumb pressing past your lips and into your mouth. You taste salt and skin and him – sharp, clean, intoxicating. He pushes deeper, gagging you slightly, and his eyes flutter closed.

You bite down on his thumb, hard, to make this fucking freak recoil. Blood wells up instantly, hot and metallic, flooding your tongue. But instead of yanking his hand back, Lohen's whole body shudders with a guttural moan that seems to tear itself from somewhere deep in his chest. His hips jerk frantically, grinding his clothed cock against your cunt, and you feel a fresh gush of wetness soak through both your pants as he nearly cums right there.

"Ffffffuck– yes– do it again, bite me harder, make me bleed, make me hurt–" His free hand releases your wrists and flies to his own pants, fumbling with the buckle. 

You release his thumb, panting. Your mouth is smeared with his blood. "You're sick."

"Yeah." He's grinning, blood smeared on his lip from where he bit it himself, pupils blown so wide his eyes look like black voids. "Terminally sick for you." 

Lohen pulls his thumb from your mouth and licks the blood off, eyes never leaving yours, sitting back on his haunches, and now those nimble, scarred fingers are working his belt buckle with single-minded focus. 

When he’s done, the leather slithers free with a soft hiss, and Vice Captain holds it up, considering it, then drapes it around your neck so tight it makes you cough. 

"Pretty," he breathes. "You'd look so pretty in a proper collar. Maybe I'll have one made, engraved with my name. 'Property of Lohen' What do you think?"

You can't tell him to fuck off when the collar tightens on your neck. He unbuttons his pants, slides them down those stringy thighs, and kicks them aside. His underwear follows.

His cock is... god help you, it's pretty. That's the word that slams into your brain, unwanted and undeniable. Pretty. Pale and flushed pink at the tip, curving up slightly toward his belly, slick with pre-cum that's been leaking steadily and soaking a dark patch into the front of his discarded underwear. It's not massive, but it's thick enough that you know it'll split you open oh so sweetly. Below it, his balls are drawn up tight, heavy and full, the skin taut and slightly darker, clearly aching with the need to empty themselves inside something– someone. 

Specifically you.

"Pretty, right?" Lohen reaches down and wraps a hand around his cock, giving it one lazy stroke. A thick bead of pre-cum wells up at the tip and drips slowly down his shaft, catching the faint moonlight filtering through the burrow entrance. He catches it with his thumb, brings it to his mouth, and licks it clean with a soft hum. "Mmm... Want a taste?" He smears another bead onto his fingers and holds them out. "Open up, kitten. Sample the goods."

You clamp your mouth shut, turning your head away. He tsks softly, disappointed but not surprised, and crawls forward again, sitting square on your chest. His weight presses your back deeper into the blankets, pins your arms at your sides, and leaves you completely helpless. That bobbing cock taps insistently against your sealed lips as he settles, leaving a tacky smear of pre-cum across your mouth.

“Oh, kitten,” he drawls, slow and syrupy, his head tilting so his ears flop adorably to one side even as his crimson eyes blaze with absolute, clinical madness. “Still playin’ hard to get? After all the notes I left? After I bled and came in my pants with your teeth in my neck?” 

He wraps the tail of the belt around his fist once, twice, tightening the improvised leash until the leather bites into the tender skin of your throat. Your breath hitches into a strangled wheeze, vision spotting at the edges as the collar cuts off your air.

“S’alright. I like you feisty. Makes it so much sweeter when you finally break. And you will break, kitten.” He rolls his hips, grinding his soaked cockhead across your sealed lips, and laughs when your nostrils flare involuntarily.

You glare up at him, defiant, mouth clamped shut. Lohen just smiles and jerks the collar hard. The sudden constriction forces a choked gasp from your lungs.

He uses that exact moment to thrust his length into your mouth in one merciless thrust, not stopping until his swollen balls are pressed flush against your chin and the fat, leaking head bullies its way past your gag reflex. 

Your throat convulses violently around the intrusion, muscles spasming and squeezing him desperately. He throws his head back with a loud moan that echoes through the burrow, his silky mint-green ears pinning flat against his messy hair while his fluffy cream-tipped tail thumps wildly against his own ass in ecstatic beats.

“Ahhh– fuuuuck yes, there it is~” he sobs out, voice cracking with pure bliss as his hips grind forward until your nose is smashed into the soft mint-colored hairs, his musky scent flooding your lungs until you can’t smell anything else. “This is exactly where you belong, kitten. On your back in my nest, throat stuffed full of bunny cock like the stupid whore you are.”

Lohen drops the leash, and his fingers twist viciously into your tufted lynx ears and the hair at the back of your scalp, yanking your head back at a brutal angle to straighten your throat into a helpless fuck-sleeve. 

There is no time to adjust as he starts fucking your face with fast and punishing thrusts – each one dragging his thick cock almost all the way out before slamming back in until his balls slap wetly against your chin. Obscene, wet gluck-gluck-gluck sounds fill the burrow as stringy ropes of throat slime, precum and drool bubble out from the stretched corners of your mouth, pouring down your chin and tits in messy rivers. 

“F-fuck– squeeze me just like that, kitten–. You’re doing s-so good for me, makin’ me feel so loved,” he groans, eyes half-lidded and soft with obsessive adoration. His hips snap faster, turning the slow face-fucking into something meaner. Thick globs of your spit fly everywhere with every brutal plunge, splattering across your lips and cheeks.

Your vision is blurring from the lack of air and the constant battering of his cock against the back of your throat. Tears stream down your face, mixing with the thick strings of spit and pre-cum, and despite everything, your cunt is clenching desperately around nothing. Your hips twitch and roll uselessly in the air, searching for friction that isn’t there. Lohen’s nose twitches, catching the scent immediately, and he lets out a delighted little giggle.

“Ohhh? How embarrassing. You’re supposed to be the predator, but one taste of bunny cock and you’re already gushing like a broken faucet. Don’t worry… I’ll take care of that sloppy hole soon enough. But first–”

He suddenly pulls out with a wet schlorp, leaving your throat gaping and empty. You cough and gasp desperately, thick ropes of saliva connecting your swollen lips to the glistening tip of his cock. Before you can even suck in a proper breath, he shifts his weight, sitting heavily on your chest with his knees pinning your shoulders down. His hand wraps tight around his throbbing shaft right above your ruined face, stroking himself with loud squelching sounds while you heave.

“Gonna paint this pretty face,” he growls, voice low and trembling with the edge of orgasm, “Gonna cover every bit of you in my cum so no one ever forgets who this stupid slut belongs to.”

You’re too wrecked to respond. So Lohen does it for you – two fingers hook roughly into the corners of your mouth, prying your jaw open wide while his other hand pumps his cock faster, the wet shlick-shlick-shlick growing louder and more desperate.

“Stick your tongue out.” And you fucking do, like a mindless dumb kitty, too fucked out to think. “Yeah, jus’ like that– good girl~”

His hips jerk into his fist, ears flicking madly, fluffy tail going rigid behind him as the pleasure spikes. His voice starts breaking, words turning meaner and nastier the closer he gets.

“You think that fucking stray could ever make you feel like this? Huh? You think anyone else gets to see you like this? I’d gut them. You’re mine. Mine to– aah~”

The first thick rope of cum erupts violently across your forehead, splattering hot and sticky all the way up into your hair and across one eye. The second heavy spurt lands directly into your open mouth, coating your tongue in salty heat and overflowing down your chin in creamy rivers.

“Take it– take every fucking drop, you greedy bitch–”

The third and fourth jets stripe across your cheeks and nose, the excess dripping down into the hollow of your throat, where the collar bites painfully into your skin. More cum splatters across your twitching lynx ears, matting the soft fur, while another thick glob lands on your closed eyelid, sealing it shut with sticky warmth. 

When the last watery dribble finally leaks out, Lohen slaps his softening but still twitching cock against your ruined face a few times – pat-pat-pat – spreading the mess even more. His breathing is ragged, but his eyes are zeroed in on you.

“Lookin’ so cute,” He pats your cum-smeared cheek with genuine affection, then slides off your chest, leaving you gasping and soaked and utterly debased. 

But if you thought this was it… oh, poor baby… poor-poor baby… 

His hands find the waistband of your pants. You try to buckle, coughing, one eye closed because of his spunk that threatens your eye. That does nothing to stop Lohen. He yanks, and your pants and underwear come down in one rough movement, the fabric tearing slightly at the seams, baring your traitorously weeping cunt to the cool air of his burrow.

As if bewitched, Lohen drops to his belly between your legs, arms hooking under your thighs to yank you closer, and presses his nose directly against your slick folds. His ears flatten, his tail thumps against the floor, and a guttural growl rumbles from his chest – a sound no rabbit should ever make. 

“This is what I’ve been dreaming about,” he breathes, the words muffled against your pussy. “Gonna fuck this kitty cunt so thoroughly it’ll reject anyone else. You’ll be a one-rabbit woman.”

Lohen drags his soft, deceptively innocent pink tongue in one long stripe from your clenching entrance all the way up to your throbbing clit, collecting your slick like it’s nectar. Then the real hunger takes over. He buries his whole face in your cunt – nose grinding hard against your clit sweetly, tongue stabbing deep inside you, lapping and thrusting wildly.

You arch off the blankets with a broken moan, lava flooding your veins. “F-fuck– Lohen–!”

“Mhm…” he hums loudly against your folds and pulls back just long enough to spit a thick glob of saliva right onto your swollen clit, then slaps his tongue against it, massaging the swollen bud lovingly.

“So fucking tight and wet,” Lohen slurs, mouth still half-buried in your cunt. “Could eat this pussy for days, until you’re just a stupid pet who cums every time her owner comes home. Would you like that? Huh?”

“Lohen– please–”

“Please what?” He pulls back suddenly, lips shiny, chin dripping with your arousal, that unhinged grin splitting his face. He folds your thighs up and apart, nearly bending you in half so you’re forced to watch him work. A long strand of your slick stretches from his bottom lip to your cunt before Lohen laps it up with a happy little moan. 

“Gotta be specific, kitten. I’m just a dumb bunny, remember? Tell me exactly what this sloppy cunt needs.”

A sob rips from your throat as the temperature of your body spikes up, your heat slowly claiming you. “I need– cum–”

“Whaa~? Say it properly!” He dips down again, dragging his tongue agonizingly slow through your folds, deliberately avoiding your clit. “Need me to make this pathetic pussy cum?”

“Yes, please! Need ta cum!” You whine with a voice so thin it almost sounds alien.

“Good little bitch~”

Lohen dives back in, tongue fucking into you, nose grinding against your clit. Two fingers suddenly stretch you, and you cry out. Lohen curls them upward to hit that spot that makes stars explode behind your eyes. His hand leaves your thigh and snakes down between his own legs, and you hear the frantic sound of his fist stroking his shaft while he eats you out. 

And when you’re so close, right there, right on the edge, your claws shredding the blankets, your back arching–

Lohen stops.

The orgasm dies instantly, leaving you a convulsing wreck. Your denied cunt spasms violently around nothing, and more hot tears spill down your cum-streaked face as you choke on a broken wail.

“C’mon, move that fat lynx ass,” he giggles, voice bright and cruel as he gives your trembling thigh a patronizing little tap.”Need you to cum on my cock. Gonna show you what ‘fucking like rabbits’ means~”

You can only shudder, edged out of your mind, drooling and crying into the nest that reeks of mint and cum. Your hips twitch uselessly, seeking friction that isn’t there.

Lohen clicks his tongue in mock disappointment. Then, with terrifying ease, he manhandles you like you weigh nothing. Those deceptively stringy arms and compact muscles flip you onto your hands and knees in one smooth motion. Your face smashes into the soft blankets, ass forced high in the air, cunt and tight little hole completely exposed to his hungry gaze. Your fluffy lynx tail lashes wildly in humiliated protest, but he just grabs the base and yanks it upward, pinning it out of the way.

“Archons, fuck yes,” he breathes, as he kneads your ass cheeks roughly, spreading fat globes wide apart until you feel the cool air kiss your dripping folds and puckered hole. “And to think that you were so stubborn to admit that we are meant to be! Bad kitty…”

The first sharp slap cracks across your ass, hard enough to make the fat jiggle and bloom bright red. You yelp, claws digging deeper into the blankets. Vice Capitan watches the mark form with manic glee, ears flicking excitedly, that fluffy cream-tipped tail thumping wildly against his own back.

His palm rains down again and again. Each impact sends shockwaves through your body, turning your ass into a burning canvas of handprints. Every slap pushes you closer to the edge without letting you fall. You’re drooling messily onto the blankets, thick strings of slick, cum, and tears soaking the fabric as you whimper and sob into the nest.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Lohen stops, palms smoothing almost tenderly over the bruised flesh. But the gentleness is a lie – he spreads your ascheeks again, spitting a thick glob of saliva right onto your puckered hole before his leaking cock slides hot and heavy through your drenched folds. He coats himself in your slick, letting you feel every throb, the fat head nudging your entrance just enough to part your puffy lips before pulling back before you can envelop him.

“Ah-ah-ah~” he tuts, voice dripping fake sympathy as he slaps the heavy head of his cock lightly against your labia. “You really thought I was gonna let you cum that easily? No, no, kitten. Say you are mine first.” 

You can’t answer – your voice is gone, replaced by ragged pants and whimpers.

“Say it,” Lohen repeats, a dark edge sharpening his words. He leans over you, chest pressing flush to your back, one hand snaking up to fist the belt still around your throat. He yanks the end of it, forcing your head up and your back into a painful arch. His other hand reaches toward his discarded coat, and you feel the flat of his knife press against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

Your breath hitches in arousal when the metal tip scrapes against your mound.

“Tell me your soul belongs to Lohen,” he whispers hotly against the shell of your tufted ear, voice low and venomous. “Say it, or I’ll keep you right on the brink until you’re nothing but a babbling mess begging for bunny cum. I can do this for a very long time…”

The knife traces a threatening line up your thigh, never breaking skin but promising it could. And what little remains of your pride shatters completely.

“It’s yours,” you choke out, voice wrecked and trembling, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks. “Lohen! Please– Please–”

“Good mate,” he praises, planting a chaste kiss atop your head, right between your ears. The words sound genuine and reverent that they make you blush deeper, face turning crimson. “See? Wasn’t so hard.”

Lohen releases the leash slightly but keeps you arched, then sits back on his haunches. His hand tightens in the fur at the base of your tail, yanking your ass closer. The other grips your bruised hip hard enough to leave fresh marks.

His throbbing cock lines up again, the leaking head kissing your quivering hole. Your whole body tenses, every nerve screaming in anticipation.

"Welcome to the bottom of the food chain, kitten," he whispers, voice dripping with undiluted triumph. 

His hips roll forward.

.

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Series Masterlist: Creatures Features

I saw this crazy battle maniac 2.0 (hi Childe) in Varka's story quest and just couldn't... I had to add him. Yeah, I'm sorry for neglecting this series so much. Hope that you like this part at least haha!

My darlings (taglist): @nazifa613, @spookydragonsong, @noentalrae, @melimelisworld, @itslovelyangel, @cum-fvk, @forbidden-permission, @luv-isolde, @rinki-tinki, @alwaysseventypercent, @koseyisntcozy, @rochunsfw @lizurich, @constellationsyslibrary, @lavielavigne @hungryhornet @fuuyi-acrimosa, @itslayka, @anothergojostan, @blanksbedroom, @violetisreadinghush, @cccccccccccleo, @valentine-mybeloved, @bedrottingdoll, @horny--jail, @avenixs, @mildmasochist, @caramel-chai @elianasmoon, @eminenceplant, @tree-ag, @neuvilletteclearwater, @msmumufufu, @solarrandom @strawberrybunnyjolie @helloweebsofgenshin @katzline, @kellyyn02, @aymands @whatasillyguy @akutgawascoughdrop @im-under-yourbed @supermegabitchboyexceptimagirl @muttwithnoname @tearinka @metallover123 @tkitb, @queerlordsimon @fuckingfaraway @madamedesalaunier @nightmarenyxx, @mayodenotche ...

(I hope I tagged everyone! If you want to be tagged too, please comment about it under the CF Masterlist).

Interesting, he thinks, humming as he observes just how wet you are. Lohen angles his thumb to run slow circles around your already puffy clit, watching as you squirm beneath him: your hole pulsing at the returning arousal, attempting to clamp around nothing at all.

Tsk tsk. “What did I say about touching yourself while I was away…” he sighs. The last letter he’d sent you rests on your nightstand — open, and bruised with the indents of a too-tight grip. He shakes his head in false disappointment, all the while pressing harder into your clit. His free hand reaches into his coat pocket, drawing out a glass vial full of ominous liquid.

A flick of the wrist. A pop. The substance stirs within its confines, and the bottle uncaps soonafter — his leather-clad fingers now coated in its thickness. ‘Liquid ecstasy,’ the merchant had called it.

You nearly jolt at the sensation as Lohen inserts a finger, pumping slowly in and out. The liquid is immediately cold…and then warmer as the aphrodisiac takes root. Too warm. It heightens your sensitivity — crawling through your nerves, leaving a disastrous wave of heat and need in its wake.

A sole finger…the slow pace… It’s not enough. Your thighs instinctively close, desperate to soothe the overwhelming sensation, but he holds you open, halting your brief search for friction.

“Ah ah,” he sings. And then he pulls out, inspecting the blend of fluids coating his glove. “Is this what you imagined when you touched yourself to my letter? Was the aphrodisiac as strong as you thought it’d be?”

You try to wrangle out an answer, but he never truly gives you a chance to respond.

“And how many times did you cum? Be honest,” he interrupts. “Once?” He prods two fingers against your entrance. “Maybe….twice?” he asks, and two fingers push their way in.

Your breathing changes with the stretch, gasping as he fills you more. Deeper, fuller…your only desire now is to unravel for him (to be unravelled by him) and yet, his languid movements are still too slow for how desperate your body has become — cunt unabashedly churning out slick for desires your lover refuses to fulfill.

…At least not in the moment; not when he loves how you cling to him so tightly, as if the intent to burrow deeper is a battle in and of itself. And with the way the aphrodisiac has seeped beneath your skin, a lazy curl of his fingers is enough to set your body ablaze, cunt gushing as you teeter dangerously close to finishing.

And Lohen knows. He tuts again, keeping his fingers curled against the roof of your walls as he pulls back out. “No, no, no you can’t cum yet,” he mocks, fully mesmerized by the glistening webs of slick suspended in the gaps between his fingers. “Look how wet you are…let’s see how you take three…”

You keen at the stretch, wondering if he knows how much thicker he is when he fingers you with those gloves on. If he knows how rough the leather grain is when he drags them against your gummy insides… (It’s not enough. It’s not enough.) When he curls all three inside you, you curl along with him — back arching clean off the bed as he digs the tips of his fingers into that spot. Bullying your insides as he continues to fuck you slowly, holding down your hips as you writhe. Angling his hand to thumb at your neglected clit, until the coil in your belly snaps and you cum with broken wail.

By the time you come down from your high, there’s a dull throb that lingers between your legs. You squirm atop the sheets, hoping some sort of friction might soothe the ache, but it leaves you all the more aware of just how empty you are, how empty you’ve been…the heat only growing in intensity as your leaking cunt remains unattended.

Lohen draws back, biting down on the tips of his (now-soiled) glove, before removing it with a quick tug. “You didn’t think just once would be enough did you?” he asks. “Come on baby, your body knows what it wants…”

Slotting himself between your legs, he traps you beneath him—leaning over your smaller frame with the unfinished bottle, once again, in his hands. He presses the opening against your parted lips, tilting gently until the vial runs dry.

“There we go,” he praises, “don’t worry, there’s still plenty more to come.”

notes: in case you didn’t catch it, it is implied Lohen and reader have already talked about everything in their letters so everything is consensual!!

The two of you are discreet, but it wasn't exactly a secret either. From laps around Mondstadt together, surveilling the surrounding area, to full-blown celebrations at Diluc's bar, all spent hip-to-hip.

Everyone noticed the way you would grab his drink by its rim, snarling at him and chugging it in one motion to taunt him. The polite thing to do was to pretend they didn't notice; why bring it up when the two of you clearly had no desire to?

Still, the two of you made it hard to pretend not to know. From the way you drunkenly clutched Lohen's coat, weakly whining about your nausea, or how his hands would wander just shy of your waist and the groping motion he made apparent when he politely bid everyone goodbye. It was something to gossip about as the party finally hit full swing.

"You're seriously a pathetic lightweight—er, I mean, you struggle to hold a single drink, you know. Why would you drink three of mine?" The cold wind forces you closer into his side as he began his approach to your home. He was more dragging you there than politely walking you home. You made a sick sound, hiding your cheek in his uniform; he clutched your wrist to his chest as a precaution, though the hand laid on your hip continued to fondle you with no false pretense of safety involved.

"Mmghruhh," you eloquently retorted. He smelled of mint leaf with an undertone of something stronger. You weren't sure how often the two of you were in this position once before, but you felt as though the amount h significantly increasing since you returned from your deployment away from Mondstadt.

You stumbled over a loose pavement, knees caving under no pressure. He let an amused exhale escape his nose, looking to the side in some faux form of consideration. "You really know how to make yourself a public embarrassment, hm?" You lift your head enough to glare at him, coherent thought stringing together enough to know he is being a dick tonight. "Oh, I'm sorry, could you prefer the phrasing 'public disgrace'? How is it that whenever I find you, you're doing something laughable enough to pass between nations?"

He leans back, his thin smile traveling across his face fast. Sometimes he would get in moods like this; here his sole purpose was to step on your toes and see how much you could take.

"Don't look at me like that! You're famous for it! Your tales in Liyue traveled across Tevyat. Many days, your inanities would reach me before any letter of yours. You're really making a name for yourself, morsel." By now, you're angrily pulling away from him and grunting in dismay. His hands tighten around you, pulling your side into his until you both are cheek to cheek.

You try to think of something mean to retort, something better than what your drunken brain was conjuring. "You're mean!" Would only make you sound pathetic, and you didn't trust your slurring voice to make it sound like anything more than an insolent whine. "Eat my dick!" Felt somehow immature in the face of his insults. So you did what you did best and acted without thinking.

You pulled your hand off of the coat you clutched, weaving it tightly in his hair and then, with full force, pulling it like you were trying to tear it from the roots. You knew him; therefore, you knew how tender his head could be. A secret you swore to keep.

It didn't mean you couldn't use it against him, though.

He made a pained, keening sound while you dragged his face inches away from your own. Your other hand grasped its own bundle of hair, and you began pulling at his hair the same way an elder would pinch a rumbustious kid's cheeks. "Don't be a dick, Lohen!" You manage, stumbling back and forth as his hands begin to loosen from you and hover over your wrists.

"Fuck!" He winced, hands collaring your wrists and eyes closing for a moment.

"If you miss me, why don't you just—!" You hiccup. "You just tell me! You're always so annoyingly passive-aggressive with the weirdest things! You know I won't get it if you don't tell me!" You twist your elbows, really yanking him around for a moment. His hands stay on your wrists, and when you think he's going to pull your hands away from him, he presses them further into his scalp.

He chuckles, eyes opening to meet your graze. You barely register when he begins to angle your wrist towards his face more. "That's more like it, morsel. Do it harder."

"Huh?"

His eyes crescent at your incomprehensible response, and, out of kindness, he repeats. "Harder." Before sinking his teeth into your angled wrist with no let-up.

You shudder hard. A jolt of electricity followed by undoubted pain makes you cry out. The hand he isn't burrowing into thrashes hard, trying to yank him back by his hair. He makes a humming, moaning sound, and you feel his lips press into a smile on your wrist. Fuck, you're pretty sure he's drawing blood now.

You make a small sound of pain, but in stubborn refusal to lose, you lean close to his face, baring your own teeth.

It would make sense to bite his wrist, in retaliation, but his uniform wasn't quite as showy as yours. His neck would be an obvious weak point, but you weren't known across Tevyat for making reasonable decisions in the heat of the moment. Your mind bypasses all the right answers, and instead, you find yourself sinking your teeth into his cheek, right underneath his lovely mole.

There's a sobering moment where you think to yourself, 'What the fuck am I doing?' But rational thought dawns, and you bite down as hard as you can.

You hear him hiss and then a sharp guff of laughter vibrates against your wrist. You feel the familiar feeling of trickling blood down your arm, and it only reinforces your own vigour as you chomp down hard against his skin. His own soft skin vibrates under your jaw as you cry out from his own ministrations. Unwilling to yield, you raise your bare legs high enough to kick at his knees.

The word begins to sway to the side, and you both topple into the road. You feel his tongue lick into your bloodied sink before he releases and hooks his teeth into the back of your hand. In turn, you bite his other cheek and begin trying to wrestle your arms free.

"Let go!" You jerk back and forth, now on top of him in the middle of the ground. He rolls so the both of you are on your sides, and you see his eyes shake with something similar to exhilaration.

"Never." He promises, the start of the word peaking with excitement only he would have in this situation. You kick at his torso, hard, and listen to the wheezing giggle he makes. "Fuck, I missed you. I missed you so damn much."

You jut your feet into his side. "The feeling is not mutual, you asshole!"

In a fury of motions, he pins your wrists into the ground and uses the momentum to push himself on top of you. Lohen straddles your hips, leaving you defenseless on your back. "Lohen!" You whine out, angry and quickly exhausted. "I'm going to kick your ass; let go of me!" Flexible as ever, you jerk your knees into his backside then twist your hips to try and force him off of you.

"You know I can't do that." He sounds so sickeningly amused; it's really starting to piss you off. "Got ta' get even, babe." He leans down, his lips brushing the side of your face. You wriggle around like a worm and freeze when you feel his lips graze your jaw, pressing against your neck.

You quickly realize he's targeting your weak point now. In desperation, you throw your hips forward, only bucking him somewhat. "Oh, you piece of shi—mM! FUCK!"

His breath, his teeth and his spit lather and press the skin right below your jaw. Your hips buck again, not in a defensive way but instinctively. And he doesn't stop. His teeth press further into the junction of your neck. You angle your head away from him, unintentionally exposing more skin to latch on. "Mm! Le—let me—oh fuck, Loh-Loe—" Your hands lash out, back arching into him. You think you're bleeding again.

Vaguely, you remember you both are in the middle of the street. The moon is high in the sky, and the spot you're doing this is well lit. His grip on you slackens, maybe to see what you would do once freed, because his eyes are looking up at you for a response, dizzying you with his attention.

You're still shuddering, a small ache of need building in your gut. You weren't a stranger to getting off to violence; there was a reason the two of you were friends. Still, human willpower overpowered whatever desire pooling between your legs. You hated to be outdone, especially by him!

Your vision blurred from the pain of it, the ache of his bite marks on your wrist and hand and the growing neck wound. You turn your head back to him, hands going to his chest and fumbling weakly. Without another thought, you bite down hard on his earlobe, raising your hands over his chest, and start punching his shoulders.

"Im gfonna—win! Ow! Ow! Let go!" Your legs kicked helplessly behind him.

"That's all the fight you've got? Are you even trying?" His voice shakes. He was clearly getting something out of seeing you try with all your might. One hand gripped his shoulders, the other in his hair, yanking tightly until his neck was at your mouths' level, and you bit back hard.

His hands sieze your sides, digging into your sides hard. The sound he makes is something between a cry and a groan. You feel something poke against you, and the idea of him being hard because you hurt him a little has you gasping into his neck, blood against your teeth.

You wanted to hurt him more. Make him ache the same way you did; force him to make that same sound, over and over. You throb at the idea, whimpering when you felt his lips part from your throat. You fumble under his coat, searching.

"Fuuuck, do it again." He presses his face into your head, hands starting to grope at your chest.

"Lohen," you ran your tongue against his bite wound. Skin with a hint of salt chased your taste buds. Cold hands tickle between the openings on your shirt, one hand pinching your nipple through your undergarment's fabric, the other going to your throat, squeezing.

You clenched your thighs together. With a hand still searching, you went to his waistband, finding the dagger hidden there.

He quickly catches on to what you're doing, barking a laugh and pulling away from your mouth to gaze down at you. He feels you point the tip of it into his side, threatening the skin of his waist. "You're playing a dangerous game, morsel..." he warns, pressing his forehead against your own.

You want to say something mean and biting, just to amp him up more, but all you can manage is a little pant. Your lips quirk into a little smile, and you know you look absolutely disheveled by the way his irises shake with excitement.

Instead of plunging the weapon straight in, you slowly guide split layers of skin, watching his manic grin become more pained each growing second.

You watch with sick fascination as he breaks on top of you. The flushing of his cheeks, how his breath hardens, and the small involuntary shudder of his hips – all of it has your mind racing. He says your name like it's a promise.

While his attention is off you, you twist your waist once more, putting as much force as you can. He makes a sound of surprise when you settle on top, popping down on his growing erection without care. His hands slip from your neck to grip your chest in an almost painful grip. You cry out, bending into him so the two of you are chest to chest.

You return it by burrowing the tip of his dagger deeper into him, feeling him grinding into you. Your bare knees dig into cobblestone, eyes still hazy but focused on his expression.

He's so pretty; it's unfair. The way he's looking down at you through his lashes makes you grind back, slotting his clothed dick against you. You wonder if he can feel you throb. You're wet enough; it makes it easy to push against him. He reaches, grasping your hand with the dagger and messily dragging it down his side. The sound he makes has you biting the side of his cheek, igniting fresh pain. You jolt up into him from the jerking of his chest, then quickly pry your hand from his to raise the blade of his head.

"Hey," you slur, feeling your cunt throb in tandem with the pounding of your wrist. From where your hand hung above you, you see blood drip down, falling against his face. One lands close to his lips, and you watch as he licks his lips, pupils dilated.

"You're perfect for me," he whispers, delirious. You blink, your eyes going to his side and realizing how much blood he's losing. The white of his blazer is completely red, turning an ugly shade of dark maroon.

"Awh, shit. Lo," you smack his cheek, forgetting about the blade in your tipsy stupor, nicking skin. He makes a moaning sound, one you don't grace with any acknowledgement. Your hand slaps his cheek once more. "Lo, come on, baby, you okay?"

A voice calls from behind, "What the hell are you two doing?" Your body straightens on instinct, a permanent reaction built into you when you hear your grandmaster's voice. You cringe, slowly turning. To your horror, Jean is with him, a hand covering his appalled expression.

"Are the two of you fighting?!"

Lohens is still murmuring beneath you, "So... so... fuckin' perfect." He's long gone, and you try not to blush when he gives a small roll of his hips with you on top.

"Archons help me—" Varka exhales, hands on his temples. Jean struggles to comprehend what's happening, marching to the two of you and grabbing you by your armpits and into the air like a cat. Lohen's dagger dangles in your grasp, feet dangling over the mess you made.

Varka finally moves, staring down at a passed-out Lohen. He takes in Lohen's disheveled state, bite wounds on his cheek and neck, dishevious hair and still bleeding wound, as well as the erection that hasn't softened with time. He glances at you, the knife in your hand and the bite underneath it, your neck, your crumpled top, and your flushed cheeks.

Varka grabs Lohen by the scruff. For a moment, the two of you look like a pair of cats torn apart in the middle of a nasty fight. "What the hell were you two doing? What were you two thinking?"

You envy Lohen for a moment. Maybe you should go limp and pretend to pass out, but you have an ache to defend yourself. "We were playing around..." You frown, staring at the ground instead of your grandmaster's disapproving gaze.

He sucks his teeth, dissatisfied with your answer, and yanks Lohen over his shoulder.

"Hell, now we have to go to the church and explain your state to Miss Barbara. Are you both aiming to traumatize that poor girl?"

You hear Jean sigh, and in a moment of brilliance, you throw your head back and begin to fake a snore.

Never mind you keeping Lohen's dagger in your tight grip, or the fact that this position would make sleep impossible to come to.

They go along with it so as to stop further discussion of your misdeeds.