" I'm not made by design " @dreamlight-muses - Tumblr Blog

Jun 26

A Little Gamble (Lohen x Reader)

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 16,020

Warnings: Afab!reader, not gender neutral, superior/subordinate dynamic, graphic violence, dead bodies, sex around dead bodies, sadomasochism, rough sex, kissing, choking, spitting in mouth, tit slapping, piv, unprotected sex, creampie

A/N: Wow. I can't believe I actually managed to finish this. I started writing it immediately after his character trailer dropped and its now a few days into his banner being out, but! Better late than never. Please enjoy! 😭

⭐

Playing the role of damsel in distress is not for the faint of heart, you were very quickly coming to learn.

Even less so when it was at the request — no, the behest of the fifth company’s vice-captain.

‘You’re the only one I can trust to do this,’ he’d said, days ago in the Favonious Keep, as reasonable as you’d ever seen him. Sane and in his right mind. Or something like it, at least. ‘I need someone who’s familiar enough with the way I do things to know when it’s time to get out of my way and keep their head down. Sadly that criteria makes for a very short list.’

‘But,’ you’d tried to implore him. ‘Why me? Surely there must be someone else that could do the job just as well, if not better.’

‘Ah, come on. Don’t sell yourself so short. I picked you for a reason, you know.’

‘Which is?’ You pressed, helplessly floundering.

‘Heh. That’s easy. You look just like someone who’d go and get themselves caught by the enemy.’ He’d said with a delighted little giggle for good measure, as if the thought tickled him to no end. ‘They won’t stop to question how they managed to capture you, and then they’ll think they’re sitting nice and pretty with a hostage they can use for leverage. Just imagine the looks on their faces when they realize I don't plan on negotiating to get you back.’

You’d pictured it with him and promptly decided you didn’t like it. Not one bit. If you somehow survived this ordeal you were sure to end up with lifelong nightmares that would haunt you well into the future, grinning fiends lurking around every corner of your subconscious with the sharp glint of a knife in hand. It was too much to ask someone to shoulder this responsibility.

But you’d had little to no choice in the matter, partially because he was your superior and partially because you were scared shitless of vice-captain Lohen. He was not somebody you wanted to cross if you could help it. In that sense you counted yourself incredibly lucky to have found yourself standing behind him at the front lines rather than on the opposing side, and you planned to keep it that way.

And now, now you were almost starting to wish you’d never joined the Knights of Favonius in the first place so that you wouldn’t have had to deal with any of it. Leading the simple, uncomplicated life of a civilian sounded real nice right about now.

“Hey, stop squirming! Stupid bitch. Don’t make me tell you again.”

Grimacing at that loudly barked command as much as the bedraggled man’s hot breath on your face, you whimper a quiet sound of apology. Your reaction wasn’t even close to being feigned which made it that much more believable, and likely why Lohen had gone out of his way to pick you from the bunch. Not quite a wide eyed, guileless new recruit but not a jaded senior officer either. You were something in between, still malleable to his machinations and just gullible enough to go along with this hairbrained scheme.

“S - sorry,” you murmur, nearly out of breath from trying to keep up with the treasure hoarder dragging you along by the scruff of the neck. His hand was a heavy weight on your body, rough and grimy with dirt. If he would just slow down a little bit.

“Zip it! We’re almost there. And boy, have I got a surprise for you later.”

You could only imagine. You’d already caught him eyeing up the swell of your tits underneath the plate armor across your chest more than once, gauging his interest and your usefulness to him.

And if that wasn’t damning enough in and of itself, he now makes a show of roughly clearing his throat as he reaches down with the other hand to give himself a brief, deliberately pointed squeeze through the front of his pants. Bile promptly rises in the back of your throat, threatening to expunge everything in your stomach in a violent projection, but you just barely manage to keep it held at bay.

Blessed Anemo Archon! You sorely hoped Lohen was somewhere close by like he’d said he would be.

Much to your relief, though, the slimy bastard is quick to drop his hand, and you soon see why when he drags you around a final outcropping of rock. Directly in front of you, dug right into the side of the cliff face, sits a cave. Entirely benign and unobtrusive. There are no recognizable signs that this is anything more than a naturally formed crevice that may have been used as a wolf den at one point.

You understand, then, why Lohen had run into so much trouble trying to find their hideout on his own. It was so deeply nestled within the narrow twists and turns of Brightcrown Canyon that it was probably difficult to find even if you had some idea where to look, nearly impossible if you didn’t.

Muttering something that sounds like ‘watch your head’, the man pulls you right up to that entrance and shoves you forward in a stooped position. Looking straight into the black abyss like that, unable to tell what might be staring back, strikes an old, ancient nerve in you, making it suddenly hard to draw a full breath. Panic grips you but you don’t get the chance to protest. One moment you’re standing in the open air hills of Mondstadt’s craggy western landscape and the next you’re being shoved into total darkness.

The oxygen is immediately stifling and you gasp, unable to tell which way is even up anymore. Effectively blind, you take another stumbling step only to nearly break your ankle when it rolls on a loose rock. Half collapsing against the interior wall, you wheeze and try to force your eyesight to adjust to the pitch black but it’s no use. That blasted oaf was blocking out any of the light trying to come in from the entrance!

“Alright, alright. Go on then. Straight down.” He prods and cajoles, coming up behind you. “There’s nowhere else for you to go, so you may as well just get on with it. I’m not carrying ya’.”

Sniffing rather indignantly at that, you carefully move to straighten up as much as the low ceiling will allow. Even at your height you’re forced to hunch or risk knocking yourself out on a low hanging dip of the rock, so you could only imagine how back breaking this must be for the much taller treasure hoarder. He seems to be well acquainted with this tunnel though, his shuffling footsteps sure at your heels while yours were halting, uncertain.

But he’d told you the truth about forward being the only way to go and, using the wall to guide you, you soon find yourself running smack dab into an old wooden door. Literally.

“Yeow!”

The guy behind you bursts out laughing, his voice booming and echoing off the tight interior of the cave. You seethe, in hurt as much as anger, while your fingers positively itch for the sword you didn’t have strapped at your waist anymore. The one smart thing he’d done was disarm you when he so rudely accosted you off of the supply route further down at the base of the mountains, but you would be taking it back from him soon enough. Hopefully.

As long as Lohen kept up his end of the bargain this shouldn’t take long at all. In and out. Easy.

Or so he’d said.

“What a dumb broad.” The treasure hoarder finally grumbles as he reaches around you to feel for a door handle that must be there.

Finding it, he gives the door a hard shove and swings it open into an unexpectedly spacious chamber. You know this because the rough cut room is dotted with blazing torches that absolutely sear your retinas after being submerged in total darkness. But when the starbursts in your eyes slowly begin to clear, you instantly recognize it for what it is. A subterranean monument from the old civilization, or perhaps even older than that. A shrine of some sort, to worship a god or a king. Maybe both. It must have gotten buried in a landslide at some point, making it completely undetectable from the outside. You could only guess they’d found it by pure chance.

In the same moment that this thought flits through your mind, you realize that the two of you are very much not alone.

“That you, Jan? What’d you bring us today?”

“Looks like a juicy, succulent pig to me.”

The handful of men at the bottom of the crumbling set of wooden stairs — hardly more than a glorified ladder, if you were being honest — absolutely whoop it up at your expense, cackling amongst themselves like hyenas. Your face grows uncomfortably warm with the sting of humiliation but you focus on doing a quick head count instead of giving them the reaction they wanted.

Seven all together if you counted the bozo behind you. That wasn’t too terrible. You’d seen Lohen take down worse than the likes of them with even greater odds stacked against him. Surely he wouldn’t have any problem at all dealing with them.

Except this was an awfully tight space to be fighting in, now that you were really looking at it.

And oh, was that a musket you saw leaning against the far wall behind the ratty looking group?

You suddenly have some second, third and even fourth thoughts about this, but before you can try to backpedal the one evidently called Jan gives you a hard nudge towards the stairs (ladder). The urge to whip around and slam your fist into his nose almost gets the better of you until vice-captain Lohen’s earlier words materialize out of your memory like a vengeful specter rearing its ugly head.

‘You look just like someone who’d go and get themselves caught by the enemy.’

Right. A damsel in distress. Someone who was easily captured and wouldn’t put up much of a fight, if any. And you’d already come this far.

Clammy from nerves and sweat, you reluctantly move to shimmy down the groaning steps (ladder) to stand on the barren ground. The small congregation of men wastes no time inching towards you, clearly interested in this new plaything their friend has brought back to the hideout. Like a pack of dogs with a helpless rabbit. You try not to pay them much mind though as you take quick stock of these new surroundings.

They’d made quite the cozy little base for themselves here. The stone carved monument was still partially covered in heavy rocksheet, leaving only the bottom half visible, but the rest of the space had been cleared out and thoroughly claimed. Moth eaten cots dotted the various corners to indicate where individual ownership had been established with what you guessed was a shared common area smack dab in the middle of it all. There’s a low fire burning under a simmering pot near the center, and when you curiously follow the rising smoke up you discover a thick crack in the ceiling. It was hard to say where it might lead but it must connect back up to the surface eventually given the subtle draft you can just make out, wafting against your skin. It looked like the way back through the tunnel you’d just come in from really was the only feasible exit or entrance.

Not good. Even for as fiercely reckless as Lohen was, these were not favorable conditions for a fight. This manmade dugout was not only littered with a whole litany of unnecessary obstructions — a card table, wooden chairs, a laundry line from which hung someone’s old patched up pants, a tin wash basin, a straw training dummy that had clearly seen better days — but the treasure hoarders also had the home advantage here. This probably wasn’t going to be easy for him.

“Hey, you listening or what?”

That gruffly asked question brings your attention back around with a snap. A mild pang of gut wrenching surprise curls through your body when you realize that they’ve got you surrounded now, practically frothing at the mouth and smacking their chops. Apparently they didn’t know how to tell when a girl wasn’t interested.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, one of the men reaches out to rudely flick at the hem of your skirt, flashing a greater strip of your thighs to your attentively watching audience. You squeak a small sound of alarm and quickly shove the material back down, hoping to maintain at least some of your remaining dignity.

“Don’t be like that.” The handsy one grins, obviously finding humor in it. “We just wanted to know if you’d like to have some fun with us or not. Seems to me a pretty young thing like you might appreciate getting her rocks off a bit. At least while we have nothing better to do with our time anyway.”

Oh, you could think of about twenty other, far more important things you’d rather be doing right now instead of this.

“As much as I appreciate the offer - -“

One of the others, this one with a jagged scar bisecting half of his cheek to leave the skin partially sunken and pinched, reaches out to rather unceremoniously grab a handful of your ass. You yelp and whirl around, backing up a step to put some much needed distance between you and him. But that just sends you tripping into the first guy who eagerly winds his arms around you like it had been an open invitation for him to do so.

Your pulse jackhammers out of control. It wasn’t difficult to imagine them escalating things until a fight broke out over you, ripping you to shreds in the process, and you valiantly squirm in his hold in an attempt to get free.

“H - hey! Stop that!”

“Sorry, baby, but we’re not offering.” He coos against the side of your head while his fingers sink deep into the cushiony love handles at your waist. “I’m afraid that wasn’t a question so much as it was … a friendly suggestion, you could say.”

“You can have her when I’m finished.” The nearly forgotten Jan announces as he steps into the ravenous circle they’ve formed around you. “I found her so I get priority. Even had to go to the trouble of wrestling her useless little toothpick away to get her to cooperate so I’d say I’ve more than earned it.”

You watch, teeth gnashing, as he slides your confiscated sword out of his belt and tosses it off to the side with a dull thunk in the long dead grass. He’d come to regret that in due time if you had anything to say about it.

The man holding you to the front of him just shrugs though. “Eh, she’s got more than one hole, doesn’t she? I don’t see any reason why we can’t all share.”

“Theo.” Jan clenches his fists tight, growling. “Don’t be such a selfish prick. You know how we operate. Whoever brings it back gets to keep it unless otherwise stated. She’s mine.”

“Is that so? I don’t think I see your name written anywhere.”

Jan’s mouth flies open to really lay into the other man now, but a different one reaches for you instead. “Ah, give it a rest you two! At least take her damn clothes off while you’re bickering amongst yourselves!”

Your iron chest plate is ruthlessly snagged, nearly pulling you right up off your feet when he gives it a vicious tug. But the straps are reinforced leather, some of the best Mondstadt has to offer, and they barely even budge. All he succeeds in doing is bruising your ribs and shoulderblades.

A low, bestial snarl slips out of him seconds before he lunges at you with both hands poised as if to tear into a crabs shell and rip it apart at the seams. You have only a split second to realize what he planned to do to your meager armor, reeling back in terror. Unfortunately everything quickly devolves into chaos after that.

In your panicked jerking you must slam the back of your head into the face that’s directly behind you, because he lets loose a startled, utterly enraged snarl. Theo’s hands jolt where they rest on your body, aggressively tightening as he pivots to throw you down on the ground and slam the air out of you in the process. The one with the facial scar tries to follow after you but Jan lurches to grab hold of his massive shoulders to pull him off. Everyone is shouting, stomping, shoving at each other. You fearfully glance up from your spot underneath them, trying desperately to figure out how you were going to get out of this mess. Your sword was sat almost a full yard from where you were. Forgotten, but not even close to being in arms reach.

You’ve just started to brace yourself to make a desperate bid for it when someone descends upon you like a vulture claiming a carcass. A wholly undignified squawk bursts out of you as you’re forced over onto your back, getting a good look at the blood that gushes out of Theo’s clearly broken nose, and you gasp at the sight. The idea that you’d rammed him that hard hadn’t so much as crossed your mind, but it was already too late for apologies. He’s grabbing for the vulnerable line of your unprotected neck with pure malice flashing in his eyes before you can even get your arms up.

And that’s when vice-captain Lohen makes his grand appearance.

The crappy door to the rudely formed room flies open so hard that it doesn’t just slam against the wall. It flies right off the makeshift hinges to go crashing to the ground in a heap of shattered, splintered pieces. That manages to startle everyone into momentary stillness, seven gaping faces turned up towards the entryway. Eight, if you included yourself.

Staring in horrified, transfixed wonder, you track the blur of motion that can only be Lohen as he bypasses the stairs (ladder) completely, preferring to drop straight down to ground level instead. The whipping tail of his half-cape is the only thing you truly make out in the rush, but you’d recognize it anywhere. You’d watched that same ominous flicker lead you straight into enemy lines more than you could count.

But you hadn’t grasped just how truly frightening it was to be standing right in the middle of his oncoming war path like this. Even knowing you were on the same side as him isn’t nearly enough to suppress the frightened chill that washes over you when you watch him land in a crouch, seamlessly straighten up, and whip a dagger from his hand all in the same fluid motion.

For a horrible split second you have no idea what he was even aiming at.

And then the man on top of you jerks to the side, carried by the momentum of the blade slamming into his shoulder. He cries out, fumbling in a disoriented clamor to recover from the blow as his boots frantically kick at the ground.

Which is precisely when all hell breaks loose.

With the destructive suddenness of a massive, churning wave smashing over the shoreline, everyone is moving. Someone tries to rush the vice-captain in a barrage of fists. Another one tries to go for the musket you’d spotted earlier. At some point the simmering pot is knocked over, crashing to the floor and sizzling. The stink of something burning quickly dominates the air.

You impulsively lurch into motion, scrambling to reach your sword as one of the men shouts, “drop your weapons, we have one of your knights!”

But Lohen simply doesn’t care.

The man who’d foolishly tried to take him head on goes down like a sack of bricks. It happens so fast that you’re not even quite sure what had felled him where he’d stood, but there was no mistaking the rattling, wet wheeze the body makes on the ground. He was done for.

One of the other treasure hoarders almost goes flying face first into the dirt when he trips right over you in his mad dash for the shattered doorway. It’s a futile endeavor, though, and you glance up just in time to see Lohen course correct his trajectory, veering straight towards the attempted escapee.

His polearm appears suddenly in his hand as if it had materialized there, like it was a natural extension of his arm that simply belonged to him as much as his fingers do. The upper half of his svelte body twists, right shoulder pulling back, back, back. Then he throws it, leaning the entirety of his weight into the effort, and the spear zips through the air almost too fast to keep track of.

Thunk!

A heart wrenching shriek immediately follows that fleshy, potato-sack sound, drawing your shellshocked attention towards the man now sitting awkwardly splayed out on the cave floor. With Lohen’s spear sticking straight up out of his gut. All it takes is that one single look for you to know it had pierced him straight through and he was as good as pinned there now. Just like the butterflies and other specimens Sucrose had once shown you from her collection.

You come very close to regurgitating every last bit of your stomach contents with that thought.

Someone screams. “What the fuck!?”

Struggling to focus on anything other than the dying man lying some few feet away from where you were crouched, you crane your head back around to look for your sword. Still right where you’d last seen it, miraculously. You suck in a deep breath and start to crawl for it, eager to get your hands on something — anything that you could use to defend yourself with.

You don’t quite make it though, letting out a fresh squawk of rising panic when someone frantically fumbles to grab hold of you. Those groping fingers quickly find purchase under the filigreed edges of your chestplate and they yank, hauling you upright just in time to see Lohen on the opposite side of the room calmly turn towards you.

“Soldier.” He says by way of greeting, perfectly at ease despite all of the chaos. No, that wasn’t an accurate assessment at all. He was having the time of his life right now.

“V - vice-captain.”

“Are you crazy or something! What the fuck is wrong with you? Huh!” Theo bellows behind you, almost shattering your eardrum in the process. You had half a mind to chide him for interrupting this very touching reunion between you and your superior, but you quickly abandon the urge to be snarky when he lifts a trembling blade up to your throat. “We’ve got one of your own here, you stupid bastard! Don’t you care what happens to her? You came to get her back, didn’t you?”

“Wellll,” playfully drawing that one word out, Lohen allows his gaze to wander away from you to shiftily take in everything else going on around him.

He’d already killed two. Just five more to go. The one back against the far wall was still fumbling to get the firearm locked and loaded, nearly dropping the gun in his rush. Another was picking up an old, half rusted axe.

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say I don’t want her back, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to start making deals with the likes of you just to accomplish that. Sorry, soldier. I hope you won’t hold it against me.”

You swallow so hard you nearly gag. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Heh. Good girl ~”

“Then I’ll just kill her and get it over with! Is that what you want? I didn’t take the Knights of Favonius for such a heartless lot!” The man behind you tries again, growing increasingly more sporadic as he waves his hunting knife around in the air. He gets a little too close to your face more times than you feel comfortable with, and you helplessly peer past him to look towards the vice-captain for help.

For the span of a single heartbeat, your eyes meet his as if you were the only two people in the room, some silent yet meaningful communication passing between you and him. You’re unsure what, exactly, is being conveyed, but luckily he seems to get the message loud and clear.

“Better make sure you duck, sweetheart.” Lohen says at length, the intonation a sultry purr. “It would be such a shame if that pretty little head of yours were to find itself removed from your shoulders, you know.”

Somehow, despite everything else going on around you, you still find the grace to blush. Pretty?

He doesn’t give you a chance to really question it, though, and you jolt when he slips into an all too familiar position. Braced to pounce, to leap, to hurl himself headlong at his enemies. The limber twist of his upper body quickly clues you in that he was about to throw something else, and the way he puts his whole center mass into it would seem to suggest he was playing for keeps this time. This was going to be a devastating blow, even more so than the last one.

You have only a split second to make the decision.

The musket abruptly goes off with a deafening bang, the flash from the muzzle blinding you.

Luckily you don’t really need to see as you throw your weight forward with such force that Theo stumbles behind you, struggling to maintain his hold with an injured shoulder. Planning to use you as a human shield, if you had to guess.

But in lurching after you to reestablish the press of your body against his, he just succeeds in positioning himself directly in Lohen’s sights.

Thwunk!

Another mindless animal shriek.

The sudden rush of warm, wet fluid that immediately follows, washing over the side of your face, has you jerking your neck around in search of the source. For a horrible split second you’re convinced that it was your blood spraying out.

It’s not, though. It was coming from Theo’s ruined eyeball in a pulsing rush of viscera and jelly-like vitreous, oozing out around the shaft of the arrow embedded deep within the membrane.

Much too late to do you any good, you realize what just happened. The vice-captain must have shot him with the miniature crossbow strapped to his wrist, the motion of throwing something a mere feint. He easily could have missed and hit you instead though. What a cocky move. But you wisely keep that thought to yourself as you watch the man spasm, convulse, and finally let his grasping hands fall away when he staggers back a disoriented step. Judging by the rapidly deteriorating motor functions you could only assume that the arrowhead had sunk in deep enough to pierce his brain.

Quickly turning from the gore, you glance up just in time to see Lohen darting towards the one with the musket. Pivoting on your heel, you run in the opposite direction with your sights set on your sword.

“You!” Jan roars somewhere behind you, furious. “It was a trap! You led him here!”

You can sense someone stomping after you, feel the shift in the air when hands reach out to grab and to twist, to rip. But you’re finally close enough now and you dive for the blade, tumbling head over heels before sliding across the dirt with the scabbard clutched in a painful death grip.

With one smooth motion and a satisfying shreeee you draw your sword, brandishing it in front of you to stop Jan’s aggressive approach in its tracks.

“No.” You hiss up at him from your spot crouched on the ground. “You led him here all on your own. No one made you abduct me off of the road! That was all you, big guy, and now you’re going to reap what you’ve sewn.”

Jan’s face twists up in pure, unfiltered rage as he glares down at you, his hands balled in shaking fists. Another dying shriek rises up somewhere behind him, but you keep your attention locked on the slimy bastard. You trusted Lohen to take care of this mess on his own, just like he’d said he would. In fact, you trust him implicitly. You’d already wagered this bet on him with your very life on the line, and now that gamble was paying off.

Slowly rising to your feet, you nudge the tip of your sword at the center of Jan’s chest, threatening to run him through if he doesn’t cooperate. “Hands up. Keep them where I can see.”

He seems to think about it, no doubt weighing his odds of taking you, but the unmistakable crack! of a limb snapping on the opposite side of the cave seems to quickly make up his mind for him. Issuing some awful hacking sound in the back of his throat, he spits a vulgar wad on the ground and lifts his arms.

“Goddamned minx. You’re feistier than you look.”

You can’t help the vicious smile that cuts across your mouth at that. “Why do you think the vice-captain chose me to be his bait?”

Jan barks a mirthless laugh at your audacity, but the sound is quickly swallowed up by another series of snap, crackle, pops as more arms are broken, shoulders dislocated, and at least one neck is mercilessly wrenched into a decapitated lull, given the odd little, lifeless groan that quickly follows the loud crack. The treasure hoarder standing before you goes still as granite, his face noticeably paling at the continuing sounds of struggle and devastation. You feel marginally queasy yourself, yet you stand tall and firm. As was your duty.

But the noise quickly starts to lull as the remaining treasure hoarders are promptly dispatched, and you flick your gaze past Jan in search of your vice-captain. You find him skulking into a tent from which came the sound of hysterical, mindless sniveling. Someone who had tried to hide but was much too scared, too traumatized by the noises he heard coming from outside the imagined safety of his refuge to stifle the breathless sobs. Even without being able to see him, you can tell that the panic was wracking his body in great big, heaving shudders, hyperventilating quicker when the footsteps grow closer to his hiding spot.

You almost feel bad for him, even though you knew he would not have harbored any similar sympathy for you if the roles had been reversed, and you wrench your eyes away from the terrible sight so you won’t have to watch.

A violent rustle of movement immediately starts up, the ensuing struggle making the tent shake from the inside. The old tarp trembles with frantic abandon as the gasping wails rise in pitch, begging, pleading for mercy. Lohen says nothing, though, only the faintest sound of his thready, tittering laughter curling through the stagnant air of the cave like an insidious waft of perfume. Invisible to the naked eye and yet unmistakable at the same time. Something that would stick with you long after you'd left this place.

For an uncomfortable stretch of moments you and Jan just stare at one another while his friend — or, at least, his co-conspirator — was unmistakably being slaughtered. You have no way of knowing what exactly Lohen does to finally put him out of his misery but, at last, the screams fade to resounding silence with a single, wheezing sigh.

A minute later, he emerges from the still tent.

You glance his way again and nearly have to do a double take. He looked like a demon straight out of a nightmare, covered in a congealing wash of blood so dark it was of the deepest, blackest mahogany. And he was grinning from ear to ear like the smile had been carved out of his face with a slashing, sharply serrated blade. You’d never seen anything like it before.

But, to be fair, you were usually standing some distance behind him, not directly in his line of sight like this.

Reminding yourself that the two of you were playing for the same team, you do your best to offer up a welcoming smile as he crosses the cave floor to join you and Jan, who suddenly seemed much less sure of himself now.

“Nice work, vice-captain! We did it. Your plan worked.” You announce with a hopeful, upward lilt that you prayed wouldn’t betray your fear. “Sorry I couldn’t be of more help, but at least I was able to stop this one from getting in your way. We can take him back to headquarters and - -“

Stepping right up behind the defenseless man, Lohen throws his arms up around his neck and swipes his right hand across the vulnerable line of Jan’s throat. A deluge of blood, so fresh it still looked bright red, sprays out of the fleshy, gaping laceration to absolutely drench you in it.

You just stand there, staring in slackjawed disbelief while Jan gurgles some unseemly, horribly thick sound, jerking frantically in place now as his hands fly up to his slit jugular. Fingers grasping, squeezing, desperately trying to stem the flow. But it’s no use. That crimson tide just keeps spurting out around his hands, dripping through his fingers.

He can’t breathe, you dully realize, when his eyes wildly start to roll back in his head, mouth wide and gaping like a beached fish. Even when he raggedly sucks in big, gulping breaths that should have filled his lungs straight to capacity he just continues to suffocate right before your very eyes, choking on his own blood.

Finally, Lohen releases him with a showman’s flourish, clearly quite satisfied with the way things have turned out. But you impulsively toss your sword aside and follow him down when he instantly collapses in an awkward splay of limbs. The startings of Jan’s death throes have him convulsing uncontrollably even as you try to gather him to you but this, too, is no use. He’s gone before you can even fully settle there on your knees and you’re just left stupidly holding a fast cooling corpse in your lap.

All you can do is sit there for a terribly long moment, stunned into inaction. There was blood everywhere. Carnage everywhere. And you had nothing to show for it now.

You couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe that this was what all of your bravery and hard work had amounted to. A pile of the broken, mangled dead surrounding you every which way you looked. It was inconceivable. You’d wanted to make him pay for the way he’d treated you, sure, but … not like this.

You’d had the situation under control, dammit. He was cooperating. Unarmed.

“Aww, come on, princess. What’s wrong? Why the long face, huh?”

You give a great start at the sound of Lohen’s voice, sickly sweet and smooth as velvet, snapping your head up to find him crouched in front of you, just on the other side of Jan’s body. Balanced on his toes, elbows braced against the bends of his knees, he tips his head to one side almost inquisitively. Not at all unlike a curious predator sizing up his next kill.

The knife dangling from his right hand still drips blood onto the dirt underneath him to the sound of a dull little plap. plap. plap.

“We took care of the problem, didn’t we?” He goes on, evidently perfectly content within this charnel house he’s made of the cave. “This particular band of fools won’t be bothering anyone else thanks to us. You should be happy about that. It’s what we set out to do, after all. Isn’t it?”

He pauses then. Looks you over more closely.

And a small knit of confusion slowly forms between his brows. “Are you sad that I killed him?”

You jolt as if he’d electrocuted you with the static touch of a phantom hand. Abruptly coming back to your senses, you hurry to shove the fresh corpse away from you in plain revulsion before swiping your hands over your stained skirt to rid them of filth. Not that it does you much good.

“No. No, of course not.”

“Well, that’s good to hear. Seriously, what do you think he and his buddies planned to do with you? It wasn’t going to be anything nice, I can tell you that much. And they wouldn’t have shed any tears over it if you were the one lying here, dead as a dormouse, so don’t waste any of yours on the likes of these crooks. But that still begs the question, doesn’t it? Why does it seem like you’re upset with me then?”

The first time you attempt to speak nothing comes out, not even a peep. You have to work to swallow around what feels very much like a boulder lodged in your constricting throat before you can try again.

“That’s all true, of course. But,” you helplessly croak. “Shouldn’t we have taken him back to the keep? For questioning, at least, or … or trial, or something? There could be more of them that we don’t know about.”

“I’m afraid that’s not my job, sweetheart. And neither is it yours. You’re a member of the ranged company, not the sitting council of the church. Don’t forget that.”

That very nearly succeeds in leaving you gobsmacked. “What do you think that makes you, Lohen? You’re our … vice-captain.”

A not entirely mirthless laugh slips out of him. “Do you really need to ask? I think you know exactly what I am. You’ve stood side by side with me on plenty a battlefield now, haven’t you?”

Pausing, Lohen gives the sharp knife in his hand a casual flip to make it somersault through the air. Up and then straight back down into his waiting hand, where he foolishly catches it by the pointy end. Not exactly smart, in your estimation, but thankfully he doesn’t slice a finger off with that cute little trick of his. Somehow you got the sense that that would’ve just sent you straight off the deep end.

“Oh, but don’t look at me like that, honeybun. You know perfectly well what the answer is. Even if I generally do my level best to keep this side of me locked up tight behind closed doors where polite society won’t have to see it, there’s still no mistaking what I am. Is there? The executioner’s blade of the Knights of Favonius. The Grandmaster’s attack dog. And glad for it, I might add.”

Giving you a cheeky little grin, he seamlessly flips the knife again. But this time he catches it properly by the handle before reaching out to calmly press the bloodstained razor’s edge across your throat.

The image of Jan’s jugular splitting open in one clean slice flashes through your mind, every bit as horrible as it was the first time. Your stomach sickeningly roils in reply, once again threatening to send every last bit of frothing foam flying from your mouth, and yet you just can’t seem to bring yourself to cower or back down.

Rather, you stand firm and call his bluff. Barely even flinching at the press of cool, deadly metal against your neck, which seems to earn you some small increase in his estimation of you, given the way his brows animatedly lift in response.

“You’re not scared? Not even a little bit?”

“I’m terrified, actually.” You murmur, trying to keep your throat as still as possible. “It’s just … if I really am your honeybun, as you like to say, then I don’t imagine you would kill me like this. That means one of these things must not be true. Which is it, vice-captain?”

“Hah! That’s a good answer. I like it. In fact, I like it a lot! Oooh, and how very right you are!” Cackling that raspy, shuddering laugh, Lohen withdraws his weapon and gives it a quick magician’s flick to make it disappear down the sleeve of his coat. Poof. Gone. Just like magic.

He even lifts his hands in the air as if to show you he isn’t armed now, even though you know that to be a load of shit, but his smile only grows when you simply refuse to be cowed by him.

“Hehehe. Yes, yes, that’s exactly it. I won’t kill you. Not like this. You’re better than that, aren’t you, princess? You deserve more than a measly little switchblade sticking out of your throat. No, you need something bigger. Better. Bleeding out here on the floor just doesn’t really suit you, does it?”

At your stilted nod, Lohen reaches across the short space again. But this time he curls the palm of his hand over your cheek to cradle it, smearing the blood that was already there and adding more to the mess with his glove. The unexpected tenderness in that gesture manages to surprise you more than it would have if he’d simply slapped you across the face, and you find yourself holding the air in your lungs while he looks you over. If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought he was checking you for injuries but that’s not quite it.

He also isn’t truly being aggressive with you either, as strange as that sounds even in your own mind. Not really, anyway. His sporadic, almost twitchy demeanor would seem to suggest otherwise but, as you look at him looking at you, a vague epiphany of understanding starts to dawn. He really wasn’t going to kill you. You now knew that for a fact.

Not because he couldn’t or wouldn’t do it, but because he was having way too much fun to end the game so soon.

And that’s exactly what it was staring back at you. Excitement. The eager, almost boyish thrill of a good time had and the hope for many more to come. He’d had a blast today. Here. With you. Fighting in such tight, cramped quarters, breaking bones, running people through with his spear. And now teasing you like this, taunting you in pursuit of the reaction he was looking for. It’s all just good, harmless fun from his perspective.

Of course he isn’t going to hurt you.

He wanted to keep playing with you.

That realization smacks you across the face like a wet rag and you shudder, vibrating so fiercely there on the floor with him that you feel like you just might slip your mortal coil all together. This situation was nearly impossible to wrap your head around. It’s so ass backwards and twisted, but when your mouth warbles open — to say what, you do not know — Lohen doesn’t even hesitate to seize the opportunity you’ve just given him.

Decisively swooping in like a diving bird of prey, he seals his mouth over yours with enough force, enough driving intensity, to make your teeth clack together. A startled yelp bursts from your throat but he’s quick to swallow it up, chasing after you when you try to pull away. All you want is a chance to recover from that blow, just to take a second to breathe, and he simply doesn’t let you.

You groan against him, weak and faltering, as the hot, wet warmth of his mouth seems to overwhelm you in the blink of an eye. The taste of him, the smell of him, the stench of blood and sweat, and guts. It’s all too much. You feel sick. You’re too hot.

There’s something musky right under the surface as well, something that you would all too readily attribute to the questionable bathing habits of the treasure hoarders, but which you can’t quite convince yourself wasn’t him. The stink of testosterone, you think. Undeniably masculine and yet cloying, further betraying his arousal and sealing your fate all in one fell swoop. It does something irreversible to your brain, makes your protests die out on your tongue.

Sighing a heated sound through his nose when he feels you start to relent, Lohen tips his head to deepen the kiss. Mouthing at you so insistently, so hungrily, that it feels like he’s trying to work out how he can swallow you whole. That probably would have been rather alarming in just about any other situation, with just about any other man, but it only seems to pull you further under his intoxicating spell.

Especially when he nips at your bottom lip where he briefly latches on, worrying the delicate flesh between his teeth for a prolonged moment. You whimper into his mouth as he tugs, slightly stretching the pliant skin before letting it snap back into place. Your lips already feel raw and kiss-swollen but he only gives you a mere second of reprieve, and then he’s right back on top of you again.

This time, however, when he spears his tongue up at the now tender center of your lips you can’t quite manage to hold your line of defense. He invades your mouth in a sudden rush of spongy flesh and spit, and you can even taste the distant twinge of iron where he must have broken the skin.

Gasping around the intrusion, you blindly reach up to grab ahold of his narrow shoulders, fitfully yanking and pulling at him. But, still, he doesn’t stop. He just rewards you for your efforts by simply kissing you even harder. Deeper. Almost frenzied.

Your head positively swims with the delirious thought that he’d probably crawl right inside of you if only he could. But instead he has to make do with merely plunging his tongue towards the far back of your throat, licking at the inside of your mouth in a way that was somehow sensual and disconcerting in equal measure. It feels like he’s flicking directly at your tonsils and you gag on the sensation, shoving at him with renewed insistence now.

When that doesn’t work either, when he just continues to meet every single push and pull you give him, tit for tat, you drag your hands higher to viciously yank at the back of his hair. Your valiant attempts to dislodge him just seem to get Lohen even more excited, however, and he rattles off a low, faltering moan at the tug to his scalp.

This really was getting you nowhere fast. You’d have to try a different approach, something he wouldn’t like.

Unfortunately you couldn’t even begin to guess at what that might be.

And you don’t get the chance to puzzle it out, either, because the hand that had once so tenderly cradled your cheek now slides back to grab a biting fistful of your hair. His fingers tightly close around the root, giving his wrist a sharp twist for good measure. Then he’s yanking your neck back with a sharp snap that mercilessly tears your lips from his.

Crying out at the loss, you owlishly blink up at the ceiling through the rising sting of tears. It’s a staggering relief to finally be able to pull in a big, gasping mouthful of fresh air again, even for being short-lived as it is. But he’s as relentless as ever and he quickly leans right back up into your space where he drags the flat of his tongue over the pounding pulse in your throat. The sensation has you trembling against him while Lohen gradually works his way lower, inch by inch, until he reaches the base of your neck. Here, his fangs come out to bite, and you mewl a harried little sound at the feeling of teeth scraping so dangerously close to your windpipe.

You hardly trusted him after what you’d just seen him to do to Jan’s.

“Ahh - haaa, vice-captain … is this really the — nngh, right time or place for this?”

“I don’t see why not.” He murmurs around the flesh caught between his teeth, the words thick and muffled with you. “Don’t tell me, mmnhgn, you’ve got stage fright or something? Is that it, honeybun? You don’t like having an audience?”

You grimace at the reminder of what laid scattered around you but he’s already starting to work his way back up, issuing hot, breathy little giggles into your neck while he goes.

“Even putting that aside, I — ooughn. I can’t imagine I look very appealing right now. I’m all … all covered in blood and who knows what else, Lohen.”

He gives his head a slow, disbelieving shake as he nuzzles into the edge of your jaw. Almost reminding you of a cat in that moment. Not a particularly big one, but no less deadly for it.

“Is that seriously supposed to be a bad thing? Ahh, and here I thought you knew me better than that.” Sighing a dreamy, wistful sound, Lohen brings his unoccupied hand up to cradle your opposite cheek, nudging your attention towards him until you have no choice but to look him in the face once more.

And what you see staring back at you makes your gut twist itself into knots. In building, reluctant excitement as much as in dread.

Grinning that serrated edge smile, his eyes flashing with a pulse of inner hellfire, Lohen moves in so close to you that the tip of his nose lightly brushes the end of yours. It probably would have sent you into cardiac arrest to have that look directed right at you in almost any other situation, under any other circumstances. But there in that cave, crouched on the ground with him …

“Gods. You’ve never looked more beautiful than you do right now and you don’t even realize it. Like some kind of work of art or something.”

He gives his lips a slow, savory lick, making you squirm at how much he resembled a half starved wolf with that gesture. “Y - you don’t mean that.”

Slowly shaking his head again, Lohen giggles a low, vibrating sound of amusement. “Oh, you have no idea ~”

With that the vice-captain starts to angle his mouth towards yours again, his eyelashes fluttering slightly in anticipation, but you’re quick to bring one of your hands down. Palm slapping against the front of his throat, you try to shove him back. He just keeps coming though, laughing a vaguely choked off sound when the pressure pushes in on his windpipe. It’s obvious he likes it. The suggestion of losing his ability to breathe, the threat of having his neck grabbed and squeezed, crushed.

Your blithe attempt to stave him off doesn’t so much as slow him down, his mouth crashing into yours in another voracious, insatiable kiss. The hand on your face drops to do the same to your throat, except he only curls his gloved, bloody fingers around the nape, allowing his thumb to do all the work. He finds your jugular with it, lightly caressing over the bobbing line of your neck when you roughly swallow before gradually pressing up on it and sinking the pad into flesh.

“Do it like that.” He murmurs against your lips when you make some small, gurgling sound in the back of your pinched throat. “It’s harder to strangle someone than you might think. Your hand will get tired fast. Push up on the neck instead. You could even lean into it if you were on top and just let your weight do all the work for you. Easy.”

Swaying slightly in his hold, you suck in a rough, shallow breath of air. It’s all you can manage like this, and it’s not nearly enough to fill your aching lungs. “Are you … going to let me be on top?”

“Hah! Maybe. Is that what you want? Would you like that, princess? You wanna’ climb on top and ride me? I’ve seen you on a horse, you know. You’re not too shabby from the looks of it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut against that mental image, hating the deep, low squeeze of your cunt almost as much as you loved the feeling of it. The worst part was that you weren’t even necessarily opposed to this happening. Not the kisses, not the hand gently choking you, not him. You just sorely wished he’d picked a better place to do this at. Preferably someplace with less dead bodies.

Because the vice-captain was certainly handsome and lovely to look at in the same way that a tropical, brightly colored plant from Natlan was pretty. Deadly to the touch. Dripping in poison. Even if you found him plenty attractive (and you did) you knew better than to touch, to invite his venom deep inside of you.

But there you were, not only touching him but drinking from his mouth as if plagued by a great thirst. Readily swallowing his malignant offering down like a condemned prisoner who would eat anything at all just to stay alive.

You’re so caught up in him that you don’t even think to fight it when his tongue rudely invades your mouth again, poking and prodding, exploring the dark nooks and crannies of you as if he could spend all day doing this and little else. He’s in no hurry, no rush to get to the climax. Clearly, Lohen would rather enjoy it. Savor it. Take his time to ensure he extracted every last drop of pleasure from his thrumming bloodlust, the thrill of the hunt indistinguishable from his physical arousal.

And he is aroused, you realize in no uncertain terms when he nudges himself closer to you, practically clamoring over Jan’s forgotten body just to accomplish that.

All but sitting in your lap now, his knees braced on the ground and bracketing yours, Lohen leans into you so heavily that you almost unbalance and tip over. The flush line of his svelte frame against yours is hot and hard, and that’s when you feel it. The weighty press of his rigid cock digging into your hip. His front placket seems to barely contain its enthusiastically twitching length which he not-so-subtly grinds against you to feel the rush of friction where he really wanted it. But still, he does not throw you down and mount you like a wild beast.

He could, if he really wanted to. Easily. Just as easily as those treasure hoarders had manhandled and manipulated you to their machinations, but Lohen isn’t like them. It doesn’t even really make sense in your punchdrunk mind and it probably never would, yet you still knew it to be true.

It wasn’t violent subjugation he sought, nor was it necessarily male-typical, brutish dominance either.

No, he wanted you to meet him head on, as equals. Or something close to it. See who came out the winner fair and square. Just like one of the many impromptu sparring matches he’d subjected you and all the rest of the fifth company to.

Except naked.

And instead of swords, you would be clashing it out with —

The thought alone is almost enough to do you in right then and there, and you tremble at the sensation of his cock digging in at your side, panting into his mouth now.

Blindly fumbling, you readjust the position of the hand on his neck to better mimic his, pushing up towards his jaw. You notice the difference immediately as his hungry invasion of your mouth turns stilted, sloppy. His lips flutter against yours and drop open as if in pure, unfiltered ecstasy before he starts to languidly tip his head back. Like he just couldn’t get enough of the feeling.

“Oooughhn, that’s it, honeybun. Exactly like that.” He hisses, once he has enough room to do so. “You wanna’ choke me out a little bit? Be my guest. Go on.”

Emboldened by this false sense of victory over him, you scramble to gather your resolve as you push on his neck with more force. The pressure tilts his face further back until he’s left groaning softly up at the ceiling, the limited amount of oxygen he’s able to pull in rattling about inside his hitching chest. You stop only long enough to steal a brief glance at his lap where you’re not the least bit surprised to see the aggressive tent in the material. Although they were not nearly as tight as Captain Kaeya’s, his trousers didn’t normally leave much to the imagination. Or so you’d thought prior to this.

Now, however, you can see he’s packing an impressive girth that his slight stature did not belie in the slightest. It’s more than enough to make the fabric bulge out and form a truly enticing imprint around it that lets you see his cock had settled more towards the left when it started to fill out. Your mouth waters at the sight, fingers itching to reach out and grab it. To free it from those polite confines and guide it into your body.

You don’t get the chance to follow through on that impulse though.

“Mmm. See something you like, sweetheart?”

Attention darting up, you look into Lohen’s grinning face again. “M - maybe. I’m not disinterested, at least.”

That earns you another discordant, breathy laugh. “Ooh, don’t start getting shy on me now. It’s okay. You can look aaalll you want. I don’t mind. Really. In fact, I encourage it.”

A befuddled little laugh slips out of you at that proclamation. “A bit full of yourself there eh, vice-captain?”

“Hmm, not without good reason, I’d say.” His devilishly dancing eyes narrow slightly, turning mischievous now as he deliberately rolls his hips into you. “And anyway you’d better admire it while still you can. Something tells me you’re going to be the one full of it soon enough.”

You shudder aggressively in response, unable to catch or to stop it before it’s wracking you straight down to your very core. That hadn’t just been a threat, but a promise too. Neatly wrapped up together with pretty paper and a poison dipped bow on top. And you knew Lohen well enough to know he typically upheld both his promises and his threats with equal intensity.

And he must see that falter in your demeanor because he snickers a devious, knowing sound. It was just the reaction he’d been hoping for, in all likelihood, and you’d given it to him on a silver platter. You’re not particularly surprised by it, though, when he was so adept at recognizing another person's openings and weak spots. And now he knew yours.

A slave to your baser instincts and desires, just as he was slave to his own. A match made in hell, perhaps.

It truly isn’t any wonder, then, that you don’t even attempt to slap him away when Lohen shifts against you, ignoring the hand on his throat when he reaches up to slip long fingers inside the gilt edge of your iron wrought chestplate. Feeling around within the space in between, he quickly locates the reinforced buckle on one of the straps to give it a good solid yank. His efforts are much more successful than the treasure hoarder’s had been, his familiarity with Favonian armor serving him well even though he rarely wore the stuff himself.

You feel that first corded belt start to loosen and your heart rate seems to exponentially swell. Excited and scared, nervous, and maybe just a little bit shy at the prospect of him seeing you naked. But you were also oh so very eager to feel him moving against you without the troublesome impediment of clothes in the way, and you quickly jump into action too. Knowing he wanted it as much as you bolsters your courage by no small margin, giving you the encouraging push you’d needed to let your hands freely roam.

Fingers smoothing a path down his neck, you drag your palm lower, lower and lower still until you can feel his stomach flexing just under your touch. He sucks in a faltering breath, no doubt realizing your intention, but he doesn’t try to stop you. True to his word, even in this. He just tugs at the inner latching of your chestplate with more ferocity until it finally gives to loosen around you with a nearly silent slither of the leather bands.

The metalwork carapace hangs from your shoulders now but he’s quick to snag at it, yanking it up over your head without much aplomb. He tosses it off to the side to the sound of a loud clatter, the strange hue of his eyes flashing an eager glint when he goes up on his knees in front of you. That puts the center of his pants even closer to you and you tip your head back, watching him watching you, as your hand finishes its journey to slide across that faintly twitching bulge on a slow, downward drag.

Stiffening, Lohen sucks in a sharp inhale at the contact and his hips slouch into an almost lazy nudge as if he were offering himself up to you for further perusal. At the same time he reaches up to start yanking at the buttons and clasps, all the hidden little hooks on his outer jacket, the waistcoat underneath. His own straps are undone, the decorative brooch on his chest unpinned and thrown carelessly off to the side with nary a second thought. You’re able to make out the dull clatter of some weapon or another more than once as his layers are quickly discarded, one after the next, but you don’t have much interest in that right now.

You’re far too mesmerized by the weight in his pants to worry about what kind of knives and daggers he might have on his person, feeling another deep, responding clench in your pussy when you grip him through the material. Your mouth starts to water at a rate that was, frankly, alarming. You wouldn’t have expected this from someone of his height and build, although that certainly explained in part where some of his self assured confidence came from.

But you must not be sufficiently meeting the challenge he’s presented you with because, stripped to just the final layer of his royal blue shirt and white slacks now, Lohen rumbles an impatient sound as he reaches down to snag your wrist. Roughly shoving your palm into himself and grinding it in for good measure, he fixes you with a sharp little smile that’s more teeth than anything else.

“There’s no need to be gentle with me, princess. I’m a big boy. I can take whatever you want to dish out. Promise ~”

You don’t doubt that for even a moment, your fingers trembling around his girth when he hunches over you, bringing the upper half of his body close. Even for as lithe as he is you can tell exactly how powerful he really was in the distribution of his muscle mass, the way he fills out the shirt that clings and stretches with him. He’s nowhere near as big and bulging as the Grandmaster, but he doesn’t really need to be. A wilting wallflower he was not despite the misleadingly svelte appearance of his body.

In fact, he’s perfectly solid when he descends upon you with a vengeance, grabbing your face between his hands and yanking you up into a hard, demanding kiss. This, too, is more teeth than tongues and lips, but you rise to meet the attack head on and nip him right back, much to his groaning delight.

Working blind now, you fumble to find the belt around his narrow waist and tug at it, every now and again feeling the hard imprint of him brush your knuckles. You just barely manage to get the buckle unclasped before Lohen rumbles a hungry sound, leaning his sturdy weight into you even when you try to push back against him. The two of you stay locked in battling wills like that for a prolonged moment and then —

He finally shoves at you hard enough to send you toppling backwards onto the ground, following right after you to all but crush you against the hard rock. It punches the air out of your lungs to leave you briefly winded, gasping, but you’re almost too busy kissing him to notice it.

All at once hands are flying everywhere, tugging at everything, clawing at each other as if you were really fighting it out. Except you knew good and well that this was not how he would attack you if he was being serious, which you were admittedly quite glad for. That certainty stops any fear from taking root in your mind when he roughly grabs at the belt around your waist and pulls so hard your hips momentarily leave the floor. You yelp a harried sound but he just swallows it right up, once again plunging his tongue deep into your mouth with the same ferocity he wields his spear with.

It might have been easy to mistake his intentions for something they weren’t if you were just a little less familiar with his way of doing things, if you hadn’t already looked into his eyes and seen the truth for what it is. You felt confident he wouldn’t kill you, not here, not today. Not intentionally or otherwise. So there is no bloom of terror in your heaving chest while he aggressively works to wrestle you further below him.

And you don’t make it easy for him either. You had a feeling that would have ruined his fun and he wouldn’t have appreciated it much anyway. A too easy victory was the source of much of Lohen’s daily boredoms, after all, so you make sure to put up a good fight for him.

Finally managing to yank your arm out from the tight press of your bodies, your hand shoots up to hook under his chin again. But this time when you apply pressure you do so straight into his jaw and he’s forced to tip his head back or risk chomping down on his own tongue. Rattling a labored, tittering laugh, he lets you shove his neck back without much fuss even as his hands continue to grab at you, pulling on clothes and appreciatively feeling you up at the same time.

You take that short moment of respite to catch your breath a little bit, wheezing under him as if you’d just run ten miles straight. Lohen is quick to shrug out of your hold though and he swoops right back in to grab a handful of your shirt. One hard yank is all it takes to have the delicate hooks giving way, leaving you to gape at him in disbelief, but it was already much too late. What’s done is done, and all you can do is seethe a quiet sound when he starts to force the sleeves down your twisting arms.

“Nnghn. Was that really necessary, vice-captain?”

“Sure was ~” He chirps right back, utterly unconcerned about it.

Suppressing the urge to reach back up and do the same to his shirt, you instead let him manhandle your top off, eager to be rid of the stifling material. It was filthy anyway, between all of the blood and the dirt you’d accumulated from rolling around on the ground, and you aren’t sad to see it go.

Luckily Lohen gets that off and tossed aside quickly enough before then setting his sights on the silky brassiere that cradles your breasts. He makes even quicker work of the flimsy garment, barely allowing himself enough time to get the cups shoved out of his way before he swoops in to capture one of the stiff nipples in his mouth.

Your back dramatically bows against the unforgivingly hard ground as you keen a sound that is somehow half startled and half tinged with ecstasy at the same time. Abandoning your endeavor of tugging at his slouching pants, you let your hands fly up to take desperate hold of his hair. He just groans a hot, muffled sound into the meat of your tit though, slowly driving his pelvis into you while he does it so you can feel his seeking cock where it digs into your stomach.

“Oh! God!”

Faintly humming his agreement, Lohen takes a moment to simply suckle at you, drawing the sensitive teat towards the back of his throat. Then, once he seems to be satisfied with the swollen bud, he carefully brings his teeth down on it to lightly worry the flesh. That has you squirming underneath him, as aroused by the sensation as you were nervous about him biting you in earnest, but he does not.

He just comes up off your chest with a loud, wet pop another heartbeat later to leave the nipple coated in spit and stiffly coiled. The waft of air that immediately assaults you all at once has you shuddering wildly enough to make him readjust the way he’s got you pinned to the cave floor, settling his hips more squarely on top of yours.

“Oooh. A bit sensitive, are we?” Crooning slyly, Lohen walks two of his gloved fingers up your middle to softly tease the wet, pebbled peak, making it pebble into an even tighter point. At your responding hiss, he adjusts his hand to take the meaty bud between thumb and forefinger, tweaking it now to the accompaniment of a rather sultry laugh.

“These are cute.” He goes on, grinning. “You should let me pierce them for you. I bet you’d look stunning with some pretty jewelry in your tits.”

He pinches down a little harder, as if to test your tolerance for pain, and you wince at the imagined sting of a needle. “I - I don’t know about that, Lohen. Do you even know how to pierce someone?”

“Wellll …”

Realizing the unsavory double entendres of what you’d just said, you reach up to smack his shoulder with a huff. As if you’d really needed that reminder of the carnage you’d watched him dish out when you were surrounded by the evidence of it.

He just gives another devious little giggle though, quickly pushing up onto his knees to hover over you. Abandoning your chest now, he lifts his hands to work over the buttons on his shirt with lightning quick precision to leave it hanging half open, showing off an enticing strip of his tight stomach. He then directs his hands lower down and you quickly realize what he’s doing, watching in rapt fascination as he loosens the fastens of his slacks with familiar efficiency. It would have taken you a good moment of fumbling to get them undone but he seems to have it taken care of in only a matter of seconds.

And when he finally reaches inside to free himself, you just can’t seem to help the tiny, threadbare gasp that catches in your throat at the sight of him. It’s perfect in your estimation; sinfully smooth and silky with a delectably fleshy hood that gathers over the tip but which readily glides back when he fists that rigid length and draws his hand down. You don’t miss the little wet click that sounds in time with the motion, pressing your thighs together in a fierce squeeze as your own excitement ratchets up another dizzying notch.

Somehow or another you can’t quite shake the confounding impression that he looked like he’d been made just for you. Like he would fill you up exactly right, like he’d hit every single pleasure inducing nerve along the way. It was almost overwhelming in its potency.

And you’re suddenly very aware of just how drenched your cunt actually is as you not so subtly squirm underneath him, there on the ground.

Which catches Lohen’s attention, of course, his razor edged grin widening. Still lazily caressing himself with one hand, he reaches out with the other to grab under your knee and wrench it wide, forcing you into an unladylike sprawl before going back in to snag at the skirt of your uniform.

“Let me see you too, honeybun. That’s only fair, isn’t it?” He murmurs, shoving the bulk of the material out of his way to expose your modest bloomers to his raking gaze.

You’re almost struck by the urge to cover yourself back up, more than a little self conscious about doing this here of all places. But it’s as if your pussy has a mind of its own and you instead nudge your hips at him in offering, mewling a breathless little sound when he doesn’t hesitate to take you up on that invitation.

Gloved hand smoothing over the center seam, Lohen allows himself a moment to just rub over you, admiring the way your body twitches into the pressure rather than trying to shirk away from it. That doesn’t hold his attention for very long, though, and he soon releases his hold on his cock so he can grab at your bottoms with both hands and yank them down your legs.

Some brief twisting on your part is required to get them untangled and tossed away, but he wastes no time descending upon you again, palming at the soft pudge along your inner thighs to press them into another wide spread. All at once you can feel everything now, from the exposed, puffy slit of your cunt, the excess of excited slick that wets the coarse hair there and the cool waft of air against your most sensitive spot. It makes you tremble wildly even as you crane your head up to peer down the length of your own body, taking in the lurid spread he’s got you pinned in.

You almost couldn’t believe that you were letting him do this to you, right here, right now, but burn everything, you’re so glad you were. You couldn’t recall there ever being a time when you’d felt quite so damn needy.

“Ooohho, my, oh my, princess. What a pretty little pussy you’ve got there. Looks good enough that I could just eat it up.”

Squeezing your eyes shut in a failed attempt to block that out, you let slip a quiet, seething hiss through your clenched teeth. “Fuck, Lohen. Just get on with it. I — I don’t want to wait anymore. Stop teasing me.”

“Hah! And who’s to say I’m just teasing you, huh?” Ever so slowly he starts to drag the palms of his hands up over the meat of your thighs, your waist, your ribs and then your tits before he finally wraps them around your neck in a loose hold. He gradually leans over you while he does it, coming back down again to put his face close to yours where he takes a moment to simply nuzzle at your nose, your lips.

“Maybe I really do just want to eat you out. I could make it sooo good for you, too.” Lohen continues, purring at you, while his shuddering breath dances across your skin. “I get the sense that a lot of women would kill for the chance to have their pussy ate but you'd rather get fucked, wouldn’t you? Want me to take you hard and fast, don’t you, princess? Is that it?”

You find yourself nodding along with what he’s saying before you even have the conscious thought to do so. He was right, and there was no sense in denying it. Not when you were already effectively naked from the waist down, laid out underneath him in a tense, halting sprawl.

And now that he’s pressed flush against you once more, you take the opportunity to curl your legs up around his narrow hips and pull him in even tighter, ankles crossing over the small of his back.

He chuckles a raspy, creaky sound at that, driving his hips forward to grind that throbbing length into your sopping wet core even as he continues to softly pet over your throat at the same time. The hellfire in his eyes has taken on a strangely sultry gleam now, hazy crimson pupils blown so wide they seem to almost drown out the surrounding blue-gray iris. If you didn’t know any better you might have mistaken him for a deadly, sadomasochistic incubus in that moment.

Gods, and was that really that far from the truth?

“Give it to me, Lohen.” You murmur, your kissed raw lips brushing his with every urgently uttered word. “Give me your cock. Show me what it’s like to really be bested by you. Claim your victory.”

A terrible shudder works through him at that plea, loosing a threadbare moan as his eyelashes flutter and then slip shut. It appears to affect him a great deal, to hear you welcoming your own end at his hands like this, but that hardly even seems to give him pause.

Slipping one of his hands from around your neck, he reaches down to squeeze into the tight, hot space between his body and yours. Your chest hitches at the indelicate swipe of his seeking cockhead while he blindly directs it where it needs to go, feeling for your entrance, and when he finds it in the next heartbeat you all but choke on the pressure he exerts. Shoving himself into the delicate give of your pussy has your inner sleeve readily stretching to accommodate him, too eager and too wet to deny him access to your guts even if you’d wanted to. And you really, really don’t want to.

You cling to him with desperate abandon, heaving against Lohen’s mouth, the line of his neck, at the sensation of being invaded, subjugated, claimed in this manner. The sharp sear of penetration brings reflexive tears to your eyes, teeth gnashing while you try to bite back an overwhelmed, gasping sob. It’s nearly impossible, though, when your estimation of him had been right on the mora. He does fill you up just right. His width, his length, the girth that forces your interior walls to relent the more he pushes inside, slowly feeding himself into your hungry cunt.

His hand comes back up then, no longer needed between your legs when he was already sunk half of the way inside. Grunting a stuttering sound as he worms his fingers beneath your head, closing them around a tight fistful of your hair so that he can yank your neck back at a vulnerable angle, he descends upon your mouth like a ravenous beast. Kissing you, biting, licking, sucking on your poor abused bottom lip until the taste of fresh blood springs up anew.

He’s relentless, insatiable in the way he lays claim to your body, and you quickly find that you enjoy every second of it. Lohen feels good moving on top of you, inside you, his presence smothering you in a near suffocating shroud. It’s hard to breathe like this, with him all but crushing you into the ground and his cock impaling you straight up the middle, but you come alive under him in a way you can’t quite recall ever experiencing before.

And when he at last settles against your pelvis, wedged within you as far as he can conceivably go, you mewl an intoxicated sound into his mouth which he greedily swallows. Your hands are in his hair, nails raking down his back, yanking on him and frantically grasping him to you as if he could possibly get any closer than he already is.

But Lohen takes it all in stride, giving your tongue one last, forceful suck before he eases back just enough to issue a heady, faltering groan into the cramped space. His gaze fixes on you, dreamy and distant, head tilting to the side as his lips twitch into a languid smirk. Just drinking in your pinched, inebriated expression.

“Don’t tap out on me too soon, sweetheart. I’m not ready to be done with you just yet.”

He starts to move then, experimentally testing the give of your clinging grip on him at first. But when he’s met with little to no resistance, he rapidly starts to pick up the pace. His powerful body flexes over yours, such a sharp contrast against your soft, cushiony frame and every bit as thrilling as all the rest. The sound of skin slapping against skin quickly rises in the stifling air around you, bouncing off the cave walls to reflect back at you on an endless loop. It rattles around inside your brain, adding on to the swelling cacophony of lurid noises as your breathless exclamations join his masculine grunts to create a single, singing symphony.

There is absolutely nothing you can do to brace against the deep, toe-curlingy full strokes of his plunging cock though. It seems to gut you repeatedly, sucker punching the air right out of your aching lungs, each and every time he slams his hips down onto you. Your pussy positively spasms around it, dripping, drooling, squelching softly in excess. All you can do is desperately hold on for the ride, arching up to meet his next thrust with another frantic wail of ecstasy.

He soon pushes himself away though, lifting the top half of his body to hover over you instead of laying out on top like he had been. Centering the brunt of his weight on the hand still wrapped around your throat, Lohen pushes in on your neck to tip your head back and cut off the airflow. An unseemly, gurgling noise slips from your mouth as you start to choke, watching as if from some far off, distant, dreamy place when he drags his hooded attention down to admire the energetic bounce of your tits.

“Shit. Just look at these. I didn’t even realize you were hiding such a luscious body underneath that boring armor until now. Mmnnggghhn. You really should let me pierce them, you know.” He says, casual despite the rumbling growl in his voice. Despite the quick, hard jabs of his cock pistoning into you.

Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth in a deviously impish look, he reaches out with his opposite hand and mercilessly slaps the jiggling meat of one tit.

You jolt at the sharp sting of pain, making some helpless, sobbing noise under the hand on your throat, writhing on his cock. It makes your pussy clamp around him in a vice grip, hard enough to make him feel somehow even bigger inside you, and he hisses a wounded little groan at the tight squeeze.

Narrow chest stuttering slightly, Lohen lets his head lull back as if in blissful anguish for a drawn out moment even while his hips continue to drive against you.

“Goddamn. You’re taking me so good. Mmnghn! That’s it, honeybun. Keep squeezing. Just. Like. That.”

Bringing his head back up, he delivers another hard swat to the first tit and then one to the second, turning the delicate flesh hot under his attention. You whimper a delirious noise when your eyes start to roll back but he’s quick to let up the pressure on your neck, allowing the air to rush down your abused windpipe and expand your screaming lungs to capacity. While you gasp and cough, sucking in mouthful after mouthful, he smooths his palm over the tender flesh of your breast before giving it a too tight pinch. Fingers sinking deep into the malleable flesh, he gives it an almost condescending jiggle, as if drawing your attention to the size and the shape, the weight of it. As if you didn’t already know perfectly well.

Then he releases you, retracts his hand, and gives your chest another smack. And this time you squeal a harried sound when he catches the nipple just right, making it throb in hurt.

“V - vice-captain! Please!”

“Heheheee, you like that? You love it? Do you want more?”

“Ughhnn, yes … yes! Give me more, sir, I want it!”

The grin that overtakes his mouth practically splits his face in half.

So excited, so amped up on fast pumping endorphins and adrenaline that it makes him tremble on top of you, Lohen leans down to press down on your sore throat once again. Your airway is cut off, your head is forced back, lips quivering open in a perfect little ‘o’ while you try to gasp for breath.

And with nary an ounce of hesitation or shame, he spits right into your mouth with startling accuracy.

Your eyes go wide, staring up at him in affronted surprise, but you can’t get enough air down your throat to snap at him for doing something so disgusting. And the worst part is you don’t even hate it as much as you really wished you did. The urges of your body seem to have completely overridden your higher functioning mind, reducing you to little more than a hot, wet, weeping hole that begs for release. Aching for it, straining for it.

You can think of nothing else while Lohen shifts on top of you, slightly changing the angle at which his cock spears up into your guts, relentless as ever. He appreciatively drags his gaze over your body, the hand wrapped around your throat, the bra pushed up over your tits to give them room to bounce, the spread of your thighs where his hips wedge them apart. Taking it all in, admiring the mess he’s made of you.

Between the blood, the dirt, sweat and saliva, the tears and the flood of arousal from your cunt, that’s exactly what you were. Irrevocably and in no uncertain terms.

It’s clear even through the reeling haze hanging over your head he likes it, though, and you beautifully arch for him, angling your pelvis to better accept the continuous plunge of his cock. He groans, eyes briefly sliding closed as if he, too, was overwhelmed by the rush of everything, the intense surge of pleasure.

Then Lohen leans back, releasing your neck to once again leave you sucking in a ragged gasp of air. But this reprieve he’s given you is painfully short lived, and you soon find yourself yelping a startled shriek of pain when he smacks both of your tits at the same time.

“O - ooughh!”

Laughing at the way you lurch and twist underneath him, he quickly grabs two big handfuls of your breasts and pinches them so tightly it forces the nipples up and out between the clench of his fingers. Everything starts to spin around you nauseatingly fast, hissing at the aches and the pains, wheezing when you suddenly realize how close you were actually getting to the edge. The rough treatment from him just seems to stoke your simmering core to hotter and hotter temperatures, making you thrum from the inside out for him. Further heightening your sensitivity and emphasizing how good it felt to have his rigid length carving out a perfectly Lohen-shaped space within you. And it was overwhelming in the best possible way.

“Come on, princess! Cum for me. Show me how pretty you look shaking on my cock. Who’s making you cream? Huh?”

“Nghn, y - yoouuu! It’s you, Lohen! All you! Only you!”

As if to reward you, to show you he’s pleased with your answer, he adjusts his hands to pinch at your stiff nipples, mercilessly rolling them between the warm pads of his leather gloves now. “And who does this tight little pussy belong to, sweetheart? Speak up. Tell me who owns it!”

“You do! I - I … — oohhh god! It belongs tuh - to the vice-captain of the … of the fifth company, sir!”

Snarling a vicious sound of victory, Lohen abruptly releases your tits to leave them throbbing in the aftermath. He descends upon you, covering you with his body, as his hands come up to cradle either side of your sweaty face. Ever so tenderly — shockingly so, given all of the rough treatment leading up to this moment — he turns your face up at him so he can claim your mouth in another searing kiss.

Caged in like that, his pelvis still drilling into yours, one sharp plap! plap! plap! after another, all you can do is shake underneath him.

And you do. The tempo he sets in this new position is slower paced, but no less hard. That forceful, demanding plunge of his cock sliding deep into your pussy has you shuddering so fitfully, rocking uncontrollably, that you tip right over into an earth shattering orgasm before you can even fully comprehend it’s happening. One wild vibration of the pulled taut nerves leads you right into the next, only to immediately devolve into a mindless tremor of spasms when release grips you fast. So abrupt it’s as if someone just pulled the rug right out from under you.

Your whole body seems to convulse around him, shrieking your ecstasy into Lohen’s mouth but this, too, he just swallows right up, muffling the hysteric noise. His breathing is harsh and ragged where his nose is pressed up tight against yours but even then he won’t stop kissing you. Fucking you. Riding you through your own release and straight into his another moment later.

It’s not nearly as explosive as yours is, but even in the cresting euphoria of your doped out stupor you’re still keenly aware of the red hot, pulsing rush of gooey warmth that shoots deep inside of you. Somehow or another it adds something to the experience, highlighting your swooning reverie to the point of making you feel truly delirious. Like he really had ended you there on the cave floor and brought you back to life, all in the same fell swoop.

But you just continue to cling to him throughout it, even after your pussy has stopped contracting and you’ve started to come down from that buzzing high. One fractured piece of you at a time, you fit back into your body again only to find yourself suddenly aware of so many different things at once.

The first is that you really were quite sore after that unexpected exchange of blows. It was to be expected, of course, but the warm afterglow would only dull the many aches for so long. You were sure to be in a fair amount of pain come morning.

The second is that Lohen is still sprawled out on top of you, his cock sitting wedged in the mess he’d made between your thighs. He was growing soft now but he seemed reluctant to pull out just yet. Or to even so much as stir, for that matter.

The third and final thing is how very hard the ground is against your back and with that thought comes a budding spark of mute horror.

You’d gotten so caught up in him and the way he made you feel that you had almost forgotten where you were. The treasure hoarder hideout. The bodies he’d left scattered around the area as if they were nothing more than crumpled up sheets of paper that had been tossed aside.

In the name of Barbatos, what was wrong with you?

“L - Lohen,” you stammer, struggling to find some semblance of your voice again, but even just that timid little squeak is enough to bring his head up to look at you.

“Hm? What’s wrong, honeybun? You seem a bit nervous.” Grinning a slow, satiated smile, he very much resembles a caricature of the cat that ate the canary when he reaches up to wipe a smudge of — something off your cheek. “Don’t start overthinking it now. You had fun, didn’t you? I know I did.”

You’re sure he did, but … “But isn’t this wrong? The dead - -“

You start to turn your head as if in fretful search of one of the corpses, but Lohen is quick to squeeze the pudge of your cheeks and yank you back around. Forcing you to keep your eyes on him, his expression oddly stoic. Not quite serious, per se, just … apathetic, you think.

“Are dead, sweetheart. There’s nothing more to it than that. You don’t owe them any amount of respect or consideration. They didn’t have any for you when they were alive, did they?”

Biting at your sore lip, you give a slow shake of your head. He was right, of course. The world was better off without them and you were glad that they would no longer be terrorizing Mondstadt, or anywhere else for that matter.

It’s just.

“Aww, what’s the matter? Do you feel like a bad girl for having sex with me in front of a bunch of dead guys?”

You cringe at that, bringing a hand up to cover your face. The way he could speak so crassly about something like this should probably be a bit more alarming than it actually is, but this was Lohen you were dealing with here.

“I don’t know if I’d put it like that, but … yeah? Kind of? The church has always taught us to - -“

“Eh, church smurch! What do they know anyway?” Waving that off with a careless flick of his hand, Lohen finally pushes himself up to kneel between the spread of your legs. His cock slips out with the movement, leaving behind a sticky, churned up mess, but he’s quick to grab at your arms and haul you up to sit with him, entirely unperturbed by the tiny squeak you let out at the manhandling.

“How about this,” he says, as if he were leveling with you over something as mundane as where to eat dinner at that night. The only indicator that he isn’t having a quiet laugh at your expense, mocking you, is the utterly sincere, mischievous twinkle in his narrowed eyes as he tips his head towards you. “I’ll help you get cleaned up as best I can out here then we’ll go home. Get some food in us. Catch a quick bath. We can even stop at an apothecary on the way and pick up some contraceptives, if you’d like. But understand that I’m not about to let you off the hook that easily. I told you already, didn’t I? That sweet little pussy of yours looks good enough to eat and I plan to do just that.”

You hardly even believe what you’re hearing. “But — Lohen —!”

“Ah, ah! No buts, now. Unless you want me to eat that too, of course.”

Noising some wordless exclamation of embarrassed fluster, you give his shoulder a quick shove but all you succeed in doing is making him laugh.

“You’re so easy to tease, honeybun. It really is adorable. But, listen,” he says, grabbing your hand and then refusing to let it go even when you give your arm a tug. “I’ll do my best to make it up to you so that this isn’t the only thing you think about when you picture us having sex. In fact, I’ll try to make round two even better. Then you won’t feel like a bad girl anymore, right?”

You just stare at him in utterly perplexed silence for a drawn out moment. For him to think of it like that, in this particular framing, was already strange enough.

More odd, however, is that he would even care whether or not you felt good or bad in the first place. You wouldn’t have thought such notions concerned him all that much, given. Well. Everything about him. And yet …

Slowly, a tentative smile creeps across your face. “Are you trying to say you want me to not feel so guilty about what we just did? Does that mean you’re going to listen to my confession, vice-captain?”

“Ooh, I’ll do a lot more than listen, honeybun. I’ll even help you repent and ask Lord Barbatos for his forgiveness, if you’d like. Bad girls do belong on their knees, after all ~”

⭐

Crossposted: here

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