⋆˚࿔𝑩𝒂𝒃𝒚𝒃𝒖𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆𝜗𝜚˚⋆

𝑨 𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒆𝒔𝒔 💗9𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯+💗

[kurapikapikachuu]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ special delivery!

genshin men: when they send you flowers without their name & so you assume its from someone else

characters included: Alhaitham, Childe, Cyno, Dahlia, Diluc, Flins, Heizou, Illuga, Kaveh, Lohen, Sethos, Tighnari, Varka, Wanderer, Wriothesley

warnings!! suggestive content ahead (?)

chuu's note: okayyy m going back into hibernation mode! (2 posts in 1 day?!!?? WHO HAS POSSESSED CHUU?!)

© kurapikapikachuu | Please do not feed any of my work into AI. Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3 lots of love, chuu!

my ao3 & ko-fi !!!

[manicsho]

Prey 4 D1ck

In which a smol bunny bullies (his way into the) big pussy.

Bunny!Lohen x Lynx!F!Reader

wordcount: ~7100

TWs: MNDI, yandere Lohen, stalking, obsessive/possessive behavior, non-con touching, graphic violence, he threatens one guy, blood, knife play, kidnapping (sort of), manipulation, predator/prey dynamic (reversed hihi).

NSFW: SMUT-heavy, dub-con, Lohen is a sadomasochist, riding (cowgirl), oral (m and f recieving), face-fucking, cum play, implied heat (reader), collaring, choking, spanking, degradation and humiliation, cum marking, a bit of edging, blood as sexual stimulus, edging, your honor, he's a freak!

(If you find some more, please let me know.)

As usual, thank you all, my dear sweethearts, for your support!

NOT SUITED FOR MINORS. Not proofread. Author does not endorse or condone any of the actions depicted in real life. Also, English is not the author's first language, so there might be some mistakes. Please remember that you are responsible for your own media consumption.

“Lah– Loh– Ahh~ Lohen–!”

Your broken whimper barely makes it past your drooling mouth before Lohen throws his head back and laughs. This cruel sound echoes through the burrow like he’s just heard the funniest joke in Mondstadt.

“Ohhh, poor little kitten~” he cooes, voice dripping with fake sympathy while his crimson eyes glitter with pure sadistic glee. “Look at you, barely conscious, tongue hanging out like a cheap whore in heat. Pathetic.”

You sob, trying to ride him, weak hips rolling in shallow motions. Your thoroughly abused pussy makes embarrassing squelching sounds every time you sink down on his cock, pushing out thick globs of his cum, dirtying his thighs and abdomen, soaking the blanket. His belt around your throat serves as an improvised collar, and it digs in as he tugs at it, yanking your head forward so you have to look at his pretty, smirking face.

“Aww, is the big bad lynx tired already?” he pouts, voice sweet and condescending. “How embarrassing. I thought predators were supposed to be strong~”

He suddenly bucks his hips up hard, slamming into you with enough force to make you cry out. Then he does it again, laughing breathlessly, while more tears strike down your face and you try to bring your trembling thighs together with his lean hips in the way. Vice Captain smirks at the attempt, slapping your bruised bum with two of his palms.

“Too weak, huh? Fine then!”

With one vicious yank on the leash, he pulls you off his cock completely and roughly flips you onto your back. The sudden movement makes you nauseous, but Lohen pays no attention to that. He hooks your trembling legs over his shoulders, folding you in half until your knees are nearly touching your shoulders. Your fluffy lynx tail is trapped awkwardly beneath you, twitching weakly, fur matted with cum leaking out of you.

“Here ya go,” he growls, eyes wild and manic as he lines his aching cock back up with your leaking entrance. “Nice and open so I can breed you like the dumb bitch you are.”

One brutal thrust and he buries himself to the hilt inside your cum-filled pussy, moaning loudly, but it quickly dissolves into cruel laughter as he starts pounding into you with reckless force.

“Fuuuck–  still so tight even after I’ve ruined you,” he whines, voice cracking with overstimulation, yet he refuses to slow down. “My personal lynx onahole.”

.

.

.

Yep. 

That’s you. 

Probably wondering how you got here, huh? 

Well, let's rewind a bit.

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.

.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated!

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).

[bookishgalaxies]

modern AU where Lohen comes across a clip of one of those alpha male podcasts

podcaster1: as a high value man, my women must have a body count of 0, no exceptions.

Lohen: weird way to say you don’t want a killer for a girlfriend but okay

podcaster2: what if she wants to know your body count?

podcaster1: oh my body count doesn’t matter

Lohen, commenting on the video: your girlfriends can’t be murderers but you can?? quite the double standard, no?

[sugarplum-muse]

Im suppose to be writing but I have to get this off my chest

NSFW! MINORS, DNI!

Lohen is suffering from a big rush of adrenaline.

His hands shake, breath uneven and mind still reeling. He can surmise its probably from the near death experience. But he isn't scared.

No.

He's shaking. His head throbs, his heart is beating away painfully in his chest, so much so that he has to clutch the spot to reel himself in; in a sick, fastening way, it feels good. The rush of battle always gets him going, but not usually to this extent.

Not in the way where hes unable to stand up from where hes been bounded; there's no physical restraints holding him in his place, but the mental head fog is making his vision dazed. His mind is a muddled mess, but he bares his teeth at you, smiling widely in the complete ire on your face.

You're supposed to be furious with him. You are furious at him. Your hand yanks his hair with intent to tear it clean off his scalp. The handle of your blade is at the back of his throat, itching to cut his body free. It'd be a mercy to it, severing the pretty thing from the messed up brain Lohen racks senseless every day.

You hate him. You hate him. You hate him so much that it burns the back of your throat when the words try to claw out. You hate him so much that your eyes sting at the sight of him. Your hands itch, they ache raw at how much restraint it takes to stop from ending this damnation that is a man.

But behind all of that is fear—fear of losing him by your own hand, or by any other. If you nudged the sharp edge of your blade any closer, he'd be done for. So why can't you?

You hate him—you should hate him more. You want to hate him more. You want to hurt him more.

What residual affection could you possibly hold for this man?

You look at him with complete contempt. Even with his hair cut uneven by your blade, blood showing through the whites of his clothing, and that disturbing smitten look that twists his enchanting features into something ominous and unsettling, your heart throbs in your chest. You hate him. You hate him so much you want to cry.

You press your boot on his thigh, pressing heavily on the wound you inflicted at the start of your fight.

Well, at the start of when he ambused you in the goddamn woods. You noticed his eyes glinting in darkness, light catching on the edge of his spear as he aimed to kill you.

You try not think about what his kisses felt like. How good waking up next him him felt. How you liked to stare at him while he slept, rays of sunshine warming his dull toned features.

"I hate you," you tell him. Ignore the mornings you two spent around Nod Krai's market place. Evenings you two sat on your aching knees doodling side by side with Klee. Nights huddled at the base of dragon spine, one comforter shared between the two of you, a sad fire as your only life lines.

You don't ignore his hard on at your words. You ignore the way you press your boot on it, and step. He cries out, head knocking down and hiding his mirthful expression from you. You ignore why you're indulging him. What it says about you, even when you hate him—when you're supposed to hate him more than this.

"You ruined my life." You knick the skin of his neck, clench his hair with your hands and drag his head back up to force him to see the scorn you carry for him. Try not to think about the promises you two made. "I really—" your voice cracks. You press down hard, sword, hand, and boot. "I really fucking hate you, 'Lo."

You don't know why you call him by old nickname. Try to understand how he gasps and bucks underneath you, ruining his own pants and any esteem you might've had left for him.

You pulled your foot away from him, unwilling to help him ride out the last bits of his orgasm. You pull away completely, repulsivity washing throughout your entire body. To your horror, you find none of it is directed at him, but instead yourself.

What's wrong with you? Why do you keep coming back to him? Why do you continue to let him reel you in and play with you like this?

He pants, a hand going to the ground between his thighs as he's forced to keep himself up without the weight of your leg. His brows are bent in a way that feels taunting towards you, but his eyes are filled with the same devotion you remember. "I know you do," he exhales messily, a wicked smile on his face.

"But I know you," Lohen trembles, adrenaline still pulsing through him. You're unsure if that's what causes him to drop his weight back onto you, pressing into your thigh. He looks up at you with reverence. "And it's not enough, is it?"

You stare at him, something close to indignation growing in the pit of your stomach. You're frozen, much like he is paralyzed.

You know him. You know what he's about to say—what's going to pass his mouth. You've heard him say the words before, felt the fresh pain each time he said it. You dread it. But you're stuck.

Your ears buzz, trying drown out the words before he said them. "You need me, don't you?"

You wince, the words causing physical pain.

You should kill him now.

It's what he wanted, isn't it? Isn't that the reason he keeps taunting you, goading you into this repetitive cycle?

But you can't. You hate him, but you can't. You loathed him, imagined him dead, cursed every breath he took, looked away with every glance he stole of you and found you already staring back. Resented how you yearned for him, and how he never cared to ache quite as hard.

Quiet fear drills it's way into your heart. You struggle to back away from him. Your sword breaks across his back with your ungainly motions, and he shivers like you gifted him something precious.

You want to tell him he's wrong, but your voice is failing you. Your entire body fails you as you struggle, scared of the man in front of you and the brute of what he makes you feel towards him.

"I hate you," you breathe, because it's all you have. "I hate you," the words echo. Your throat closes, but you refuse to cry in front of him again. "I hate you, Lohen. Does that make you happy? Do you feel good, now that you've hurt me in the worse way possible? That you turned my love into a weapon against me?" You sniffle. You're completely pathetic. "I hate you."

He's unmoved when tears finally patter down your face. You must've missed when he found his weapon, using it as a crutch to stand on his wounded leg.

You see him take the same stance he does before every fight; you've seared it into your memory.

You force yourself to rub your tears away and do the same. You know by now comes next. You force your heart away behind the wall he manages to keep crumbling, readying yourself. His voice is unnervingly excited, as if the two of you are living in two different moments.

"Then prove it." He urges, cruel delight edged in his features.

You force yourself to move seconds after he does. This time, you promise to yourself, I'll kill him.

What the fuck. Where is the porn

[clovisq]

since requests are open and lohen brainrot is on...can we get a scenario where while lohen jokes around and teases reader a lot almost sadistically with reader just sighing at his antics things change when other knigts also began to laugh or "joke" around with reader that causes them to become withdrawn and embarrassed? And lohen's reaction ofc

idk what to title this. sorry..

a/n: sorry this took me so long to write, I haven’t had the motivation to write anything these weeks. and I also apologize if this might be a bit ooc. I haven’t read up on his lore even tho he’s out now…😖nonetheless, I still hope u enjoy this even if it’s not exactly that scenario word for word!

the knights had all decided to go out for a celebratory drink in honor of another successful expedition. the atmosphere was lively and loud, even the usually more reserved knights were going all out tonight.

you weren’t a big fan of getting drunk, so you decided to go a bit lighter with the alcohol this evening. typical kind of drink where the fruitiness hid the subtle taste of alcohol. other knights would tease you for getting a drink like that when they were all getting the heavier ones. even lohen made a few remarks here and there about it. it’s not even like he has the right to make fun of you, as he himself doesn’t drink either.

…you ignored him and tried to enjoy your drink anyway.

something wasn’t right. as soon as the drink touched your tongue, you were hit with a sudden burning spice you didn’t ask for in your order. your spice tolerance wasn’t that high, so it felt like your entire mouth was on fire just from a mere sip.

the thing was, you had never really told anyone about your spice intolerance. it was a silly little thing that felt too mundane to ever bring up in conversation.

all except one particular blue-haired person…

…the same person who was shamelessly laughing at your reaction despite how you were surrounded by many of your colleagues.

“you should’ve seen your own face! it was so red I thought you were going to explode. but I know you wouldn’t actually explode. you’re made of tougher stuff than that, aren’t you, silly thing?”

his smirk only served to make you even angrier. at this point, you couldn’t tell if the heat was from the spice or the sheer rage you felt seeing how amused he was. this wasn’t anything to be laughing at!

but then, he offered to help you find relief for the spice. …is he seriously trying to play white knight over a problem he caused? whatever, your mouth hurts too much to protest so you just follow him into whatever shady corner he’s going to.

he doesn’t even say anything. he just sticks out his tongue, showing you the cooling mint he has on it. you knew of that brand. it was very good at helping relieve spice, and he was currently using it as a reason to put his lips on yours.

“you’re so shameless! anyone could walk by and see you trying to… trying to so blatantly flirt!”

you stuttered accusations all while looking around to see if there really was anyone nearby.

“hmm? flirt? I wouldn’t call it that. im just trying to help you, can’t you see? you look like you’re in so much pain… and i just so happen to have the cure on my tongue…”

he clicks his tongue, pondering whether or not he should retract his offer just to taunt you further.

“or, is it that you would prefer having your fellow knights see you like this, all red and panting from a little bit of spice? it wasn’t even a lot, you know? but it’s funny how one speck of crushed jueyun peppers can have you looking like this.”

…you eventually swallowed your pride (and the mint too( ˘ω˘ )) because the embarrassment of being seen like this was far greater than whatever irritation you felt.

you thought things would be back to normal after that.

turns out, the next day while everyone was training, some of the knights decided to bring up last nights events.

they were all having a good laugh as they remembered how red your face was (thankfully they didn’t notice what was happening in that dark corner) and teasing you about your spice intolerance. some of them even suggested that they nickname you “tomato”, for how your face was matching the shade of one last night.

safe to say, you made some crappy excuse about a stomachache or something just so you could run away from all of their laughter and teasing. it was an excuse probably nobody believed, though nobody pried further either.

“oh? what do we have here? I thought you liked hanging out with the knights. you told me once that they were good company.”

lohen managed to sneak up on you while you weren’t paying attention, casually leaning on the wall next to you.

“shut up! it’s all your fault they’re laughing at me anyway! cant you leave me alone and find someone else to bother?”

a small huff escaped your lips, and you turned your face the other direction. in truth, you actually didn’t mind his presence at all. in fact it was likely the opposite. you enjoyed his presence. perhaps a bit too much. not that you’d easily admit it though, his ego was already big enough.

“really now? you wound me. I came to check up on you, to make sure everything was well. you said you had a stomachache, didn’t you?”

he made a dramatically sad expression, leaning in even closer towards you.

“yeah. and now you’re trying to give me a headache while I have a stomachache.”

you groaned and sighed. you made sure to keep your tone flat and unenthusiastic. that didn’t seem to push him away though. your lack of reaction only seemed to egg him on further.

instead of saying words, he decides to place a sudden kiss on your lips. it was very tender and soft compared to what he usually liked doing, and that made you stiffen with shock. it wasn’t unpleasant. it was actually… nice to receive such foreign tenderness from him.

he seems to notice your enjoyment, a small laugh escaping him.

“does that make up for things yet? or do you require more?”

before he could say anything else, you were already pulling him back in.

he supposes that was his answer.

[fakesimp]

Y'all know that meme—

"You're the most jealous man I know"

"You know other men? ☺️🔪"

But with Lohen.

[eepylohen]

before dawn

lohen x reader

summary: it's been a few days since lohen nearly got himself killed fighting rerir, and he's still under your care — convalescing, clingy, and shamelessly milking every second of it.

topics: lohen is down really bad, nsfw (morning & sleepy sex, vaginal penetration, a little bit of voyeurism i think), lightkeeper&medic!reader

i think i'm making lightkeeper!reader agenda…,,,

english is not my first language. please correct me if i got something wrong, thank you!

A few days had passed since Lohen had been seriously beaten up by his fight with Rerir, and you had to admit he had never frustrated you and impressed you more than he did that day.

You happened to be stationed at the camp that time, filling in for a colleague from your unit. You didn't mind it, and it seemed like it was shaping up to be a genuinely peaceful day.

And then evening came, and Varka ran into the medical tent with Lohen on his back. Given how bloodsoaked Varka's clothes were, you were certain he was the injured one — until he laid the vice-captain down on the bed.

His condition was terrifying.

Had it not been for the fact that Lohen somehow still had his eyes open, his lips curving into a smile at the sight of you, you would have been certain you were only looking at his corpse. A moment later he naturally allowed himself to faint, now that he was aware he no longer had to try, because you would take care of him and keep him alive.

It took you the entire night to stabilize his condition. As an experienced and skilled medic, you had dealt with similar cases many times before, and even though you had been in a relationship with Lohen for some time now, you had managed to keep your emotions in check throughout. You knew that this damn idiot would live, because people like him always had luck on their side — but when, near dawn, another one of his wounds reopened, you could no longer hold back tears of frustration.

That was when Lohen woke up too. "I've died, haven't I? That's why I'm seeing an angel."

The tears of frustration turned into irritation, which you poured entirely onto Lohen for being reckless and irresponsible. You were so swollen inside with your own feelings, stress, and exhaustion that in the midst of it all, you didn't notice the expression on his face. This time he wasn't hiding his true emotions.

He knew perfectly well that he had failed: he had been too weak. He was a weak, insufficiently strong mortal. He had nearly gotten himself killed, and if not for Varka — and yet he had the audacity to claim he would be able to protect you?

But despite how absurdly furious you were with him, you were still incredibly proud of him. Surviving a clash with such a powerful anomaly and on top of that remaining conscious through kilometres of Varka's marathon with him on his back was already an enormous achievement. Most knights — or even Lightkeepers — wouldn't last even a minute on that battlefield.

Lohen listened to this with wide eyes while you wiped yours, tears still streaming down your face. He had expected everything: that you'd curse him out, call him a stupid, mindless idiot, that you might even break up with him. And while a genuinely unkind string of words did leave your mouth, he never would have thought you'd tell him that it wasn't luck that he survived.

Luck was for inexperienced, average knights. You, Lohen, are stubbornly and genuinely strong. If you had walked this earth as long as Varka, you would match him without hesitation. Doesn’t change the fact that you’re absolutely fucking idiot.

After those words, Lohen pretended to faint again, and you sighed, calmed yourself, stitched his wound closed once more, and then, completely spent, carefully lay down at his side in a way that wouldn't accidentally hurt him. You finally fell asleep, leaving him completely undone by your words.

While Lohen had already known before that you weren't going to let him go, he was now certain he had to somehow ensure that even after death, you would never know a moment's peace from him. Never again.

Tonight you were, of course, sleeping beside him again. Lohen hadn't even needed to push you into it (though he had been prepared to) because his condition was still poor and required constant monitoring. And for some reason he had become terribly clingy, so you'd had to temporarily abandon your duties — for which Varka had to pay Starshyna two of his knights to compensate for your absence from the team — in order to look after him. He was like a sick child who needed attention and comfort at every turn.

"Oh—Fuck," Lohen groaned quietly, waking from a very intense dream.

Dawn was nearly breaking when Lohen felt a painful erection straining against his trousers. Although his entire body ached, his libido, rather than dropping, had surged sharply — and the worst part was that he knew perfectly well why. He desired you more than usual after your recent words. You had appreciated him. You had unknowingly comforted him in the worst possible state he'd ever been in mentally. Now he needed to properly fuck you for it, or he felt like he'd die if he didn't do it soon.

For the past few nights he had somehow managed to restrain himself due to his limbs being non-functional, but today he felt significantly better. Before you had fallen asleep you had noticed that too — by the way he had wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close against him in the night.

Through a gap in the tent he could see that there was still enough time to deal with his peculiar problem, so without hesitation he got to work, slowly kissing along the back of your neck.

God, he really had missed being fully functional. The pathetic rubbing against your backside and breathing in your scent as he left damp kisses along your neck made him tremble with arousal. He needed you so badly, so desperately needed you, that he didn't even notice his grip becoming more and more possessive. It even briefly crossed his mind that if he had died that day, he would have resurrected solely to kill anyone who dared comfort you in his absence or try to take care of you. You were his and his alone — he would never let you go.

A soft, tender bite to your earlobe had your eyes fluttering open, drowsiness washing over you. For a moment you were certain you were still dreaming — until you felt a warm vibration against your ear.

"Good morning, nightingale," Lohen whispered, his left hand travelling from your waist to your thighs until it slipped beneath your nightgown. You let out a small squeak as your warm skin met his ice-cold fingers.

"Lohen, what the hell," you mumbled, flustered, immediately flushing. It wasn't the first time Lohen had shamelessly made a move on you, and you had no objections to it in principle — but not when the camp would soon be waking up, and when there was still a considerable risk that his body would suffer for it. "Go back to sleep, for archons sake."

"Mm, I don't think so," he chuckled, then dragged his fingers low enough to slide along your folds. You grabbed his hand to stop him, but he only threaded his fingers through yours, using your own hand to touch you through the fabric of your underwear. You inhaled sharply, and that set him alight even further. "I need to fuck you, archons. Fuck, let me do it, please."

As he said it, you felt his hardness pressing against your backside, his face still buried in the curve of your neck. His warm breath and lazy, languid kisses against your skin sent shivers through you. You glanced toward the gap in the tent and swallowed, noticing the light growing outside.

It hadn't escaped you that Lohen had asked. Never — not once in your life together — had you heard the word please from his lips. His low, hoarse voice, dripping with quiet desperation, sent an electric jolt down your abdomen and straight to your core.

"L-Lohen, fuck, we can't," you answered, trying to stop his hand. He stilled, and you turned your face slightly toward him to look at him. And that, honestly, was a mistake. You had never seen him more aroused or more hungry-looking — his eyes were practically devouring you, and if not for the fact that he couldn't make any sudden movements, he most certainly would have been fucking you already. "Everyone's about to wake up, first of all. And second of all, your wounds could reopen. Do you have any idea how much work goes into stitching them back up?" you added, pressing your thighs together to steady yourself.

Lohen, however, wasn't listening to a single word of your speech, staring at your face as though it were a painting. Fuck, those sleepy eyes of yours could send him to war — you were so unbearably endearing when you were still half asleep.

"We still have a little time, darling," he murmured, amused, moving his hand to your hip. He winced slightly with pain — and pleasure — when you tried to gently push him back, but it only created a delicious friction (and pain from his still-unhealed ribs). "Don't make me suffer. Take care of your patient."

"Lohen, for archons sake, you have a broken arm, broken ribs, a sprained ankle, massive unhealed wounds, and —"

"And a perfectly healthy cock," he finished for you, grinning roguishly. You rolled your eyes, so he moved his hand along your hip to your cheek, turning your head further toward him to kiss you tenderly.

Lohen kissed you in a thousand different ways. From stealing quick pecks in public when no one was looking, just to annoy you, all the way to intense attempts to steal the breath from your lungs when you were completely alone. Every time he was infuriatingly insufferable about it — he loved tormenting you, loved sucking on your lips until they grew sensitive and then biting them, often until they bled. He loved, to your endless exasperation, pushing his tongue as deep into your mouth as possible, as though he meant to devour your soul or somehow leave his mark inside you permanently.

Sometimes he kissed you as though the world was ending tomorrow, and sometimes he drew out your kisses in such a languid, unhurried manner, as though you had all the time in the world within your blissful little universe.

This time it felt like something in between — and you felt it through your entire body. A shiver passed through you.

When he pulled away, a thin thread of saliva lingering between you, he pressed his forehead to yours and stroked your face with his thumb. "You don't even realize how badly I need you right now."

Fuck. In your entire life you had always been quite good at being assertive. You also knew very well that you should be refusing him right now.

But the moment he said those words, looking into your eyes as though you were the only person capable of saving him from whatever was happening right now, or in his head in general — even you couldn't say no to him.

"Fuck—Alright," you said, at which he nearly lunged at you immediately, so you had to grab him by his choker to hold him in place. "But not here. Not like this. You'll reopen your wounds. We need to— Archons, come on, I'll help you up."

You propped yourself up on your elbows and hauled yourself off the cot, which had only been serving as a makeshift bed anyway. It was genuinely a miracle it had held two people, but apparently you were both within the weight limit.

Lohen obediently accepted your arm to lean on. Only then did you notice the sheer size of the tent in his trousers, and you swallowed. Archons — what had gotten him like this? Because this didn't look like his usual morning erection that showed up from time to time.

With slow, careful steps you shuffled over to the desk. You sat him down in the chair, checking that everything was alright and that nothing was hurting him. Even if it was, he was evidently hiding it well enough — so you sighed and sank to your knees to untie the drawstring of his pyjama trousers. He threaded his good hand through your hair, watching you with devotion, and exhaled sharply when his aching cock finally sprang free from his underwear.

You wrapped your fingers around him and stroked slowly a few times, and when you were just about to take him into your mouth, Lohen tugged on your hair to pull you back.

"As much as I'd love that — I actually, truly need to feel you, nightingale," he muttered, and his tone sounded as though he were drunk. God, you were genuinely starting to worry about him, but you couldn't deny that you loved hearing him admit it so openly. He always tried to draw those admissions out of you instead, often through methods that left you voiceless. "Fuck, I'm going to die if you don't start riding me right now."

You were too confused and still too half-asleep to tease him about it. Instead you swallowed, stood up, pulled your underwear down and off, and stepped toward him. You braced one hand against the arm of the chair, and he pulled you down into a deep, passionate kiss as he slowly guided you to sink down onto him.

You moaned into his mouth when you felt the head of him brush against your clit. You broke the kiss.

"L-Lohen, if you notice anyone coming near, we need to stop immediately," you started, looking at him seriously while he smiled at you with that wicked glint of his. "And we go slow. No unnecessary movements on your end, understood?"

He nodded — just get on with it already. He slid his hand beneath your nightgown and closed his fingers around your waist, and you took hold of the base of him and sank down, painstakingly slowly, until you felt all of him inside you.

You both breathed sharply into each other's mouths. Lohen didn't look away from your eyes for even a second, staring into them with an intense, consuming focus. You could have sworn he was already trembling, as though he were close — which made you hide your face shyly in the curve of his neck and wrap your arms around his. That sudden shyness of yours, and most likely the fear of being caught, only fuelled him further.

He nearly thrust his hips to set a proper pace, when your hand came down to his chest to hold him in place. He understood the message, so he tipped his head back against the chair and exhaled roughly as you set your own slow, sleepy rhythm.

"Fuck. You're going to kill me, sweetheart," he whispered.

Lohen's body was usually terribly cold — this time, though, you felt almost scorching heat radiating off his skin. You couldn't help it  that your eyelids began to droop against his neck, desperately chasing after the last scraps of the sleep he had brutally stolen from you earlier. Still, you kept enough focus in your movements not to hurt him.

For Lohen, however, it was nothing short of torture. He genuinely, truly needed to drive into you as deep and as hard as he possibly could. He couldn't hold back the quiet, pained but deeply erotic sounds falling from his lips into your hair as you rode him like you were punishing him for something.

To find even a little relief, his fingers found your waist again — this time closing around the fabric of your nightgown rather than your skin, so as not to grip you too hard. He sensed that might read to you as a signal that something was wrong, and he absolutely did not want you to stop. The camp could come under attack right now and he still wouldn't pull himself out of your tight warmth. Not for anything.

"Ha—fuck, you feel too fucking good. You're taking me so well. I missed you so fucking much, nightingale," he said, almost deliriously.

He'd had relationships in his life, of course. And he liked sex. But he had never felt this matched with anyone the way he did with you. You awakened something animal in him — his libido had grown considerably since you had met, which was already absurd, and now it had somehow climbed even higher — and he simply could not keep his hands off you whenever he had the chance. You fucked like rabbits, and archons, Lohen had no idea how he had ever lived without you.

Thinking about it now, swallowed up by your wet, clenching walls, he thought he might have actually killed himself if you had rejected him that day. Not only had you thoroughly scrambled his mind to the point where he couldn't stop thinking about you — his body needed you the way someone needs something they've become addicted to. The thought that there could exist some reality in which he had tasted you and then lost you filled him with a sick, hollow dread.

He felt you quicken, as though you wanted to fuck those thoughts right out of him. In any other circumstances, being the masochist he was, he would have been absolutely beside himself with your pace. This was, technically, gentle sex — or at least it was supposed to be — and yet, purely because of his sexual frustration, he was whimpering and whining as though you were taking his virginity.

He helped you along a little with his hand, allowing for slightly deeper movements. You moaned against his collarbone, tightening your fingers on his neck and shoulder. Lohen growled low in his throat, feeling himself slowly approaching the edge — it was almost embarrassing, it had never happened to him this fast before.

"F-fuck, I'm close," he muttered, sounding completely delirious by now — which made you shudder, and with trembling, already-tired hips you gathered the last of your strength and pressed down harder, still maintaining that slow, sweet, sleepy rhythm. He groaned, feeling an overwhelming urge to sink his teeth into your neck to muffle the pathetic sounds coming out of his mouth. "I cannot f-fucking wait to — ah, fuck you properly. I-I won't let you go for fucking h-hours, sweetheart."

You clenched tighter around him at those words. Lohen's thighs were shaking with the effort of holding back from driving up into you with everything he had.

And then he heard footsteps.

He lifted his gaze toward the gap in the tent. Damn, it was already light enough outside — someone had evidently gotten up early. But he was so desperately close to his release, and he could feel from you that you were just as close. He pulled you in against him, sliding his hand to your back, and inhaled sharply through the pain as your chest pressed against his ribs. It blurred instantly with the pleasure, but he had done it solely to be able to better control the situation.

Your soft moans were echoing in his ears when someone suddenly approached the tent. Through the gap, one of the knights peered inside — as it happened, one of Lohen's own subordinates, Gunther — who went completely still at the sight.

Gunther made eye contact with Lohen and felt dread crash through him, but his body refused to obey, transfixed on the scene before him. He watched your hips rise and fall so enticingly on the vice-captain's cock, as though you were his own personal little plaything (oh, if only he knew it was Lohen who had been begging for access to you... and that if Lohen could have, he'd have been fucking you senseless himself already...). Your moans were absolutely beautiful, practically hypnotic. Fuck, you were worth every sin.

Your relationship with Lohen was a secret — not because you wanted to hide it, but because you didn't feel the need to announce it. You still had your respective duties, and some might consider it unprofessional, especially given the seniority of both your positions.

Remembering that, Lohen possessively bit down into your neck, holding eye contact with his cadet with sick satisfaction. Mine.

The unexpected bite made you nearly cry out with pleasure, clenching around him harder than you ever had before. He felt you come undone on his cock, felt how greedily you took all of him for yourself. And still your movements didn't stop — you kept going, carrying him over the edge too. As his own peak crested, Gunther had already fled, newly blessed with the sight of your climaxing body.

Lohen came inside you with an intensity that left you breathless — you could feel him filling you to the point where your eyes rolled back, your legs giving out from beneath you, undone by his drawn-out, low groan and the iron grip of his hands on your waist.

You collapsed against him, spent and unable to move, panting against his skin while he stroked your back soothingly.

"Thank you, doctor. I feel so much better," he laughed softly, and you pulled back to look at his face. He was completely flushed, his smile curled in a way you knew all too well. Like he'd just gotten away with something. Catching your suspicious look, he quickly pulled you into a tender kiss. "Fuuuuuck. Stay with me like this for a moment, nightingale."

"Y-you know I can't, Lohen, ugh, let me go," you wriggled out of his hold, reluctantly. Lohen let out a mournful groan as the warmth of you left him. You felt, with some embarrassment, his release beginning to trickle down your thigh, so you quickly pulled your underwear back on — though Lohen, as ever, looked thoroughly delighted by that sight, making you flustered. "Fucking clean yourself up, I'll be right back."

He rolled his eyes in amusement, then did exactly as you'd told him. You disappeared behind the curtain, and he heard the rustle of fabric — you were most likely getting yourself ready to start the day. The thought that you would be walking around all day with his release inside you made his cock pulse again.

He tipped his head back against the chair. Archons, have mercy. Heal me so I can fuck her soon properly.

When you returned from behind the curtain, you were already dressed for work. He smiled, almost boyishly, as you helped him back to bed with a perfectly composed, professional expression. A moment later the noise outside had already begun — the sounds of hungry, freshly woken knights making their way to breakfast. He could see you breathe out in relief, unaware that anyone had caught you at all.

"Sweetheart," Lohen addressed you, as you leaned over his bandages to check that everything was in order. "After breakfast, would you send Gunther to me? If you don't know who he is, you definitely know Ursula — just ask her to point him out. Tell him I have some duties to hand off to him."

You nodded, and just as you were about to leave, Lohen caught you by the back of the neck and pulled you down into a teasing, yet unbearably deep and almost longing kiss. Oh, there he is.

"I'll bring you coffee with breakfast. I think you can have caffeine again by now," you murmured as you pulled away.

"What would I ever do without you, darling?" he smiled sweetly, a knowing glint in his eyes. "You're the best."

[2qoo]

When Lohen's finished with all of his excruciatingly long Vice Captain duties, the first thing he plans to do is remove all the heavy clothing off himself and collapse face first on his bed.

But whaddya know? You were there too, already sleeping on his pillows like you owned it. He assumes you've been waiting for him but fell asleep before he could make it home.

Lohen blinks tiredly and takes a moment to just stare at your body in his bed. His brain almost short circuiting when he sees your bare legs barely covered. His blanket is right there!

Yeah, he'll talk to you about that later.

He begins to strip off his coat and armor and belt and whatever that was in the way which eventually left him clad only in a thin night shirt and boxers.

He says nothing when approaching you and silently adjusts himself behind you so he could wrap an arm around your waist and press his face into the warm skin of your nape.

You always smell so good in his sheets, all pliant and pretty. He wishes moments like this could last at least half the time he had on the daily.

His scent practically engulfs you, exuding faintly of patchouli and mint along with the summer heat that clung to his skin all day.. this manages to pull you further into the soft embrace of slumber.

He relishes in the simple comfort you gave him during the long nights he was particularly exhausted in. The steady breathing of your chest which he tries to match with, his legs interlocking themselves under yours automatically and his front pressed flush against your back to protect you from whatever lurks in the darkness of this room.

Soft and safe, that is what he likes to feel when he's done with Captain duties. This was much better than hugging a pillow.

Lohen curls closer— as close as his body will allow it, all lean muscle and limbs around yours like vines wrapped around a strong pillar. To him, you were something similar to that.

Someone who didn't see him as manic or impulsive. But as someone capable of being thoroughly loved and understood.

Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but to Lohen? You're definitely somebody worth fighting for.

‎

[glitching-3van]

I give all my luck to you to get Lohen. Don't go bald. 💞

PLEASE, I BEG ON EVERYONE WHO SEES THIS, FOLLOW THE ACCOUNT PLEASE!!! I'M BEGGING 🥹

[hitomisuzuya]

a letter from lohen. lohen x fem!reader. smut. cunnilingus/facesitting. slight spoilers for lohen story quest under the cut.

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

---

DO NOT plagiarize/translate/repost on tumblr or any other site without my permission.

[tempura-rolls]

Proceed

Lohen x Reader (small feature of Varka)

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Summary: His way of courting you (more yandere tendencies).

This kinda popped into my head like two days ago. Wanted to upload it while working on a Lohen specific request :) (Also I may link my socials soon…)

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Lohen’s initial attraction to you was based on your personality. No, you weren’t entirely sure of yourself, but the way you always figured out a solution to your problems strung him on. It was attractive. You were attractive.

“Nice going back there. The Hilichurl Camp.” Your first real conversation started with his compliment the second he saw you alone at Dorman’s Port.

Of course this was right after you were done with what he called, “charity work.” Safe to say that you were surprised. Immediately you greeted him formally, watching as he brushed off your courtesy with ease.

“None of that please. Just pretend you’re talking with a friend.”

He turned his attention to your weapon of choice strapped to your back. He figured out a way that may strike up an appeal of himself to you.

“I can give you tips on that weapon of yours.”

You didn’t exactly want to turn down a personal training session from someone of his caliber and rank, so your agreement was concrete.

“I would appreciate that, thank you.” That smile of yours was just warm enough to set the romance side of his heart completely ablaze for you.

He struggled to proceed in a healthy way of courting you. Lohen gained access to your work schedule, which meant he always knew your location when on the clock. On days you were free, he would study your habits. Where you liked to shop, what you liked to eat and activities you enjoyed. He knew all of it before you two even properly knew each other.

If you were often out and about, he would make sure to deliberately run into you from time to time to instigate a conversation. If you were more reserved to your home, he’d invite you for more private training sessions. Since those were your days off, he’d often propose grabbing dinner with you afterwards to sweeten the deal.

When you two became into friends, Lohen made sure to keep you even closer. He would accompany you everywhere; when he allowed you your space, he was always nearby. He didn’t doubt your strength nor ability to defend yourself, but he’d rather not take a single chance.

He always knew when and if someone else possessed feelings for you and were about to reveal them. A gentle threat, or a few more demanding tasks (for any other knight) was enough to keep the suitors at bay. There was even an incident where he terrorized one of the knights in the middle of a dense forest. Lohen would claim his actions as friendly advice, but you noticed how the knight affected started to steer clear of you.

Sick? He stayed at your residence to take care of you. Injured? He carried you to the nearest med bay.

“You’re overheating.” He was attentive, even noticing the little things as you laid down in an open field with him after an assignment.

Removing his glove, Lohen placed the palm of his hand on your forehead. He used his Cryo Vision to cool you down.

“I’m fine.” You’d deny any abnormalities happening to you, he knew this.

“I can assure you that you are not.” He next pulled at your clothing with a firm grip. “Down to your undershirt please. This is too much fabric right now.”

Once you were down to that particular piece of clothing to keep your decency, an idea popped into his head as you sucked down a spare bottle of water he had chilled to the bone. A perfect opportunity, especially as you sat resting your forehead against a tree.

“Mind if I try something?” He didn’t wait for a response from you before acting.

You shivered violently with a startled sound at the feeling of those ice cold palms against the bare skin of your shoulders. He studied your body language. The movement frightened you, yet you weren’t uncomfortable. He had a chance.

Fueled by his own desire and worry about you falling into heat exhaustion, without another word, he slowly pulled himself closer. His arms moved to hug you around your shoulders completely, resting his chest completely against your back. Again, you didn’t seem uncomfortable with the contact, you seemed rather relaxed. Was it the cold you liked, or his presence?

“Is this okay?” A rare moment of vulnerability, you could hear it in his whisper to your ear.

A part of him wanted to stick to you like glue, yet another part also cared about your comfort. He only felt your hand touching his own gently without a response. A few moments passed, as if you were now the one testing his boundaries. All of a sudden, your hands held onto his arms with a nod.

“Yeah.”

An unwavering yet comfortable silence followed as you practically melted into his cool form. That was how it started. How you officially became his.

#

You two didn’t parade your relationship to the public. Sometimes it even felt like you both were hiding the revelation. This fact was true during the very beginning, a reflection of your concern.

“I’n not sure if this is breaking some sort of rule.” You were pacing around the empty library with Lohen after hours.

He sat in a chair, leaning back with eyes locked on your form. A dark look in his gaze before he straightened up. As you vented the insecurity, he was too busy wondering how long you possessed feelings for him.

“You and I are under different companies. In case you haven’t noticed…I technically have no input over your earnings, schedule, raises—“ He could go on.

He could access all the information he needed, yet all changes went through either Varka or Jean (who would never let Lohen tamper with anything concerning another knight’s due diligence).

“It’s not possible for me to show favoritism towards you. This isn’t breaking any rules.” He further clarified.

You bit your lip, finally facing him as he stood. His eyebrows raised. Wow, you really did look troubled.

“Maybe we should just tell Varka.” Your suggestion was met with his signature grin that ran shivers down your spine.

He came really close, holding you by your arms firmly. He wanted to comfort you, while also teasing you.

“Or…we can let sleeping dogs lie.”

His hands then cupped your face, caressing your cheeks. He leaned closer into you, ready to finally perform what he wanted to for months.

Unfortunately, you spotted something in your peripheral vision coming down the stairs behind him. The sight horrified you. To dodge the kiss you slipped free from Lohen’s grasp quickly. You then made sure to place a respectable distance between you two.

“Grand Master!” The title came out sounding as if you were a child caught with their hands in a cookie jar.

Lohen didn’t even realize you could move that quickly under his nose. Varka meanwhile stared at you both with scrutinizing eyes.

“Hey you two.” Varka spoke slowly, already forming an idea of what was going on in here.

Lohen rolled his eyes before turning his head. He wasn’t angry at Varka, just annoyed that he was unable to land the mind blowing kiss he had planned for months.

Besides, he had always known you two weren’t truly alone. Lohen just didn’t care about any sort of spectators. It was you who turned out to be oblivious.

“Um…it’s getting late I should get going.” You smiled awkwardly and professionally, excusing yourself from the men in the room with a quick “good night.”

They both watched as you left, Lohen now turning to look at Varka with a smile. A mischievous one.

“What kind of gentleman would I be letting that sweet person walk home alone in the dark.” He smirked.

Varka sighed. There’s no way he was present enough to discuss what was happening between you guys. All he wished for right now was beer and chicken.

“Yeah, yeah we’ll talk tomorrow.” He yawned as Lohen opened the door to exit.

“Good night Grand Master.” His final words before shutting it, racing after you.

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Thank you so much for the love for “Monitoring Tendencies!!” <3

[magicalbats]

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

[eepylohen]

a little entertainment

lohen x reader

summary: lohen got punished with the quietest post in camp, where nothing ever happens. he would have died of boredom — if you hadn't already been there. now he's starting to think varka did him a favor. 

topics: russian roulette, lohen being a freak & down really bad, reader is lightkeeper, sexual tension, a little bit nsfw (mentions of masturbation & sexual thoughts, masochism, gunplay)

english is not my first language. please tell me if i got something wrong. thank you!

"This is so fucking boring," Lohen groaned, lying on his back and rubbing his face with one hand. With the other he toyed with his knife, hoping that eventually his body would betray him and not let him catch the sharp edge in time, letting it sink into his flesh. The worst thing Varka could have done to him was station him somewhere where absolutely nothing happens. "Talk to me, nightingale."

The watch duty he'd been given as punishment for a certain tiny violation took place at the position closest to the camp. It was the last line of defense, meaning the chance of anything happening here was exactly zero — especially on a warm, quiet night like this one. Normally at this hour he'd have free time; he'd be wreaking havoc in enemy camps. But instead… well.

The only consolation was you. You and Lohen had known each other for a few years, ever since the Knights of Favonius and the Lightkeepers had signed their alliance treaty. What you knew about him was that he was a goddamn freak, a killing machine, and for some reason — terribly fond of you. Perhaps because you personally went out of your way to avoid him whenever possible, so the more you showed your distaste, the harder he tried to get closer to you. Like a moth to a flame.

Lohen loved to tease you because you had a saintly patience, and that made him terribly excited at the thought of the day you'd finally lose your footing. He wanted to see you furious so badly that sometimes, before falling asleep, he'd fantasize about how you might react. Completely shamelessly, he'd slide his hand into his trousers thinking about you slapping him in frustration, then finish on his own fingers while imagining your trembling breath and perhaps tears on your flushed cheeks.

Tonight he'd probably sin again, staining your image in his filthy mind — but for now, he needed to whine a little to finally get your attention.

While he was practically writhing with boredom, you sat calmly reading snezhnayan literature. You loved when this particular watch shift came around; it was one of the rare moments when you could truly rest and do things you otherwise never had time for. The watchtower sat in a perfectly quiet spot — not too far from the forest and not too far from camp, but still remote enough that no one would catch you slacking. Hardly anyone ever checked on you here. Although absorbed in your book, you remained alert enough that in case of danger you could react quickly and warn your companions.

At least, that's usually how it went. Today you had to put up with Lohen.

"You should have behaved like a proper knight," you replied, trying to hide your amusement. It worked on Lohen immediately — he lifted his eyes to look at the corners of your mouth turning up, and a smile spread automatically across his face as well.

"Are you saying I'm not honorable?" He sat up and rested his elbow on his knee, propping his cheek against his palm, looking at you with that usual intensity of his. With a sigh, you closed your book. So much for relaxing.

"I didn't say that, Lohen," you replied, rolling your eyes. Still, you knew perfectly well that Lohen shouldn't be judged solely on his… fighting style. Against all appearances, he was an excellent knight who always looked out for the safety of his companions and the people around him. "You could just be decent sometimes."

Lohen snorted and straightened up. He glanced at the star-filled sky for a moment — and even that long, it wasn't nearly as interesting as you. He turned his gaze back to you, but you didn't return his attention.

"No fun at all," he sighed, feeling the crushing boredom settle back into his bones. He really wasn't made for sitting in one place, let alone staying quiet. You had absolutely no idea how to keep him occupied enough to leave you in peace — until, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the gun at his belt, and suddenly an idea came to you.

A risky idea.

But a little entertainment never hurt anyone, right?

"Can I see your gun?" you asked, looking at him seriously.

Lohen perked up immediately, genuinely surprised by your question, before a thrilled smirk spread across his face. He reached for the weapon at once, twirling it casually the way he often did.

"Do you want to shoot me?" Lohen moved a little closer, placing the gun in your hands — and naturally used the opportunity to hold them for even just a moment. You were so focused on examining the weapon that you didn't even notice him gently rubbing your skin with his thumb, until you pulled your hands back to take a closer look at the pistol yourself. "I'd think carefully about that if I were you. To me, that's practically a marriage proposal, nightingale."

You didn't answer, too absorbed in your own thoughts as you popped the magazine out and spilled the rounds.

Not a single drop of romance in you, was there? He sighed.

"Do you want to play a game with me?" you asked, looking at him.

Lohen's eyes widened, and his heart beat a little faster.

The worst thing you could do to him was ask him that while holding his own gun. He swallowed, his eyes trembling with excitement and arousal.

"What kind of game?"

"Snezhnayan roulette," you answered calmly.

You stood up, and so did he — like an obedient little dog.

"This really is a marriage proposal."

"What?"

"I mean — Fuck, yes. I want to play," he laughed, a little too pleased with himself. "I just never expected that you would ever… suggest something like this."

You laughed, shaking your head.

It was true — this was probably out of character for you. You had always kept your distance from things like this, considering them utterly stupid and dangerous. But you did live in Nordkrai, didn't you? Sometimes everyone needed a little adrenaline in their life.

You tossed the round into the air, and Lohen's gaze locked onto it. A moment later you snapped it into the magazine, spun the cylinder, and leveled the gun at him.

Lohen's heart was pounding so uncontrollably fast at the sight that he could swear he was about to faint. Even in his own fantasies, it had never crossed his mind to imagine something so beautiful.

"I don't need to explain the rules, do I?" you asked, tossing him the gun. As you stepped back, he caught you with his free hand, pulling you by the waist and drawing you closer. You rolled your eyes, your hands instinctively pressing against his chest to push him away at least a little.

But Lohen was far stronger. You'd always known that. And maybe that's why it was foolish of you to openly display your distaste for him instead of pretending to be fond of him — you wouldn't want him as your enemy in any lifetime.

Slowly, he dragged the gun along your neck up to your temple. Completely sure of himself, he watched your reaction, then raised an eyebrow, slightly puzzled as to why you still weren't trembling in his arms.

Although Lohen had fantasized about you countless times, he had just realized it had never occurred to him to imagine himself hurting you. Apart from sexual degradation and sadistic scenarios, he had never thought about seriously wounding you. While you could kick him, torture him, press your boot to his throat, or even run a knife through him — it was never mutual.

If he'd never desired your fear, why did he now feel disappointed that you weren't gazing up at him pleadingly, like a little doe caught by a cruel hunter?

Your eyes held only irritation, and your body — smaller and more delicate than his, especially within his arms — remained steady. He felt only your discomfort at the closeness between you. Nothing more.

His smile twisted back into a manic curl, and his eyes seemed to brighten.

"Hm. Since you proposed the game yourself, I should have expected you wouldn't fold immediately," he laughed — and, taking advantage of the brief distraction his sudden words caused, pressed the trigger while shifting the angle of the barrel so that in the worst case he'd startle you, not hit you.

Click.

Empty chamber. You yanked the gun from his hand and kicked him while he was focused on the shot. Lohen snickered, feeling warmth pool low in his abdomen, and crossed his arms.

"Your turn, pretty thing." He stepped closer — with that goddamn smile of his — close enough for the muzzle to touch his chest when you aimed at him.

That goddamn freak…

He didn't break eye contact for a single moment, staring at you as though you were the best thing that had ever happened to him. His fingers gently wrapped around yours at the trigger, encouraging you to fire — but the whole thing felt so frighteningly intimate that you couldn't move. Heat flooded through you and you swallowed heavily, yet you showed no sign of hesitation, only… a need to stay like this a little longer.

If Lohen weren't clearly deriving such enormous pleasure from the situation, you might have felt — just for a moment — as though you were the one in control. But of course he had no intention of allowing that. It was unnerving, the way Lohen could give the impression of being the hunter even when he was the one in danger.

"How long are you going to make me wait before you pull the trigger, nightingale?"

Click.

Empty chamber. Either you'd misheard, or something like a stifled groan had escaped Lohen's lips. You pressed the gun back into his hands and rolled your eyes.

"You're too impatient. Don't you know the whole point is the tension?" you replied, crossing your arms, while Lohen circled around you, laughing with delight as he caught you from behind with an arm around your shoulders.

You were starting to regret ever coming up with this idea, because so far Lohen was making effective use of your little game as an excuse to put his hands all over you. This time, instead of pushing him away, you stayed unmoved.

Lohen clearly didn't like that — using the barrel under your chin, he tilted your face toward his. You felt his breath against your cheek, which produced an odd tightening in your stomach. Another thing you absolutely couldn't stand about the vice-captain was that he was devastatingly attractive.

Unfortunately, he ruined it all the moment he opened his mouth.

"And what am I doing right now?" he replied, pressing the muzzle beneath your chin.

"But when I—"

Click.

Empty chamber, again. He'd interrupted you mid-sentence so you wouldn't notice him shifting the barrel. You didn't even flinch when he fired. Lohen raised an eyebrow, and just as he was about to say something, you snatched the gun from his hand and spun sharply to face him, his hands settling on your hips with the movement.

You grabbed him by the choker and pressed the muzzle to his temple. He licked his lips, visibly delighted by your rough initiative. It was exactly as he had always dreamed — without realizing it, you were losing your patience, your irritation no doubt deepened by the fact that this whole thing had been your idea to begin with.

You had never been this close, face to face. A faint flush bloomed on Lohen's cheeks as you stared him down with an intense, annoyed gaze. The expression on his face was almost blissful, wistful even.

"Nightingale—"

Click.

Empty chamber. You stepped back and handed him the gun, waiting for his turn.

That was the fourth of six. Not good. Maybe he really should have listened to your advice about building tension, because now that they were nearing the end, he assumed you'd give up any moment. He smiled with a quiet exhale, spinning the gun around his finger.

"Shall we play again after this?"

"We haven't even finished this round," you replied, rolling your eyes — but a smile tugged involuntarily at your lips. "Unless you're surrendering, Lohen?"

He shook his head and tapped the muzzle against his own temple before aiming at you from a distance. Throughout the whole game he'd tried to appear relaxed when his turn came, but every time he made absolutely sure he would never fire a bullet into you. Up close, that was significantly harder — which was exactly why he kept throwing you off balance, so you wouldn't notice him shifting the barrel's angle. And if he ever felt the familiar vibration of a real shot, that was why he kept his hands on you: to pull you safely against him.

You, however, were taking the game entirely seriously, aiming at him without mercy every time — and fuck — that was so unbearably hot that if he weren't trying to stay alert, he'd already have a very obvious problem in his trousers.

"No, sweetheart."

He aimed. From your perspective it might look like he was pointing straight at you — but as an experienced sharpshooter, he knew perfectly well he'd miss.

Click.

Empty chamber.

Lohen smiled. He tossed the gun back to you, expecting to hear you surrender any moment — and yet the corners of your mouth lifted. He furrowed his brow as you raised the pistol and aimed.

"Any last words, Lohen?" you threatened playfully, and he laughed.

"Death at your hands is a pleasure, my lady," he replied with equal theatricality, crossing his arms.

You pulled your hand back, and he clapped gleefully.

"I suppose that means I win, hm? Then as my prize I demand your—"

He didn't finish.

You turned the muzzle to your own temple, and the trigger gave way under your fingers.

Click—!

Lohen lunged at you and pinned you beneath him as you both went down to the ground. The gun hit the floor with a loud clang beside you as you stared up at him in shock.

"What the fuck?" he asked, looking at you in a way he never had before. You had long since memorized every expression of his — but this one you were seeing for the first time.

Over all these years you had come to know Lohen fairly well. You knew about his past, his mentor, his career as a traveler, his early days in the Knights of Favonius. You knew he had a weakness for poisons, that he was a battle maniac, that he loved testing his subordinates. You also knew that even though he had no close friends in your company, as a knight and a model vice-captain, he made sure they always came back in one piece — even at his own expense.

But through all of it he had never lost his edge; he was always spirited, carefree, forever craving the next rush of adrenaline. He loved when someone challenged him and didn't hold back around him — though few such people existed, and they usually ended up thoroughly beaten.

This time, Lohen looked pale. His breath seemed unsteady, and his eyes — for the first time — held none of that wild curiosity, none of that ecstasy at the approach of some unknown sensation.

You felt something prick at your chest and almost immediately regretted what you'd done. But you had to shake off the shock and quickly turn the situation around.

You reached for the gun. His face had already softened somewhat, so you smiled at him and pressed the muzzle to his lips, like a gentle kiss, before he could say a word.

Click.

The sixth chamber was empty.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

You burst out laughing. God — even though you genuinely felt a pang of guilt, his reaction made every bit of it worth it. You had finally gotten back at him. After all those years of his teasing, you'd returned the favor with interest.

"Remember how I tossed the round?" you asked, opening the magazine, then reaching into your pocket to produce the stray bullet. "You were so focused on it that you didn't notice when I caught it, I closed the magazine back up without loading it. That's the whole trick. A magician from Fontaine taught it to me years ago."

Lohen appeared to understand now. In his excitement, he'd lost enough of his edge not to notice the difference in the gun's weight. And every time suspicion flickered in him at your nonchalant behavior, you had redirected his attention just in time. You had played it perfectly. He let out an amused snort, feeling his heart race all over again — because fuck, that had been extraordinary. You'd played him, frightened him half to death, and had the audacity to laugh at him on top of it all. You were perfect.

Which didn't change the fact that he had absolutely no intention of letting you get away with it.

"Clever, nightingale," he smiled broadly, taking the gun from you. He straightened up and settled himself comfortably across your hips, reaching into his pocket. You looked at him with sudden unease. "You really had me fooled."

To your dismay, Lohen produced a round and loaded it without hesitation. You immediately pressed your hands to his thighs to push him off, but he caught your wrists in one hand and pinned them to the ground, leaning over you.

Oh, fuck.

"Allow me to return the favor," he said, dragging the gun along your chest and up to your lips — which reminded you that just moments ago you had pressed the same muzzle to his. He knew it too, drawing a quiet, strange pleasure from that indirect contact, while privately wishing it were the other way around. "Now I'd like to have a little fun with you."

[llyn1xx]

Opposites Attract

Lohen x GN!Reader

Synopsis: Lohen with a partner that he has a total soft spot for despite them seemingly being opposites

Genre/Tags: Fluff, soft and affectionate Lohen, established relationship, slightly suggestive ending if you squint (not proofread)

Lohen's reputation is notorious. He's the sadistic and crazed vice captain of the 5th company whose only motives are thrill and power! So how is his lover an absolute sweetheart? Someone who wouldn't dare swat a fly unless necessary and radiates pure harmony and bliss.

Whenever you two would go out together, you'd feel noticable glances. You'd wonder why all the time. Perhaps your lover was just a popular figure in Mondstat as a knight?

Wrong!

It's just that the grand difference in your energies is more than enough to raise a couple of eyebrows. He looked.. intimidating and not to be messed with to say the least. While you were right next to him shining like sunlight after dawn, greeting everyone with a welcoming smile and wave.

Nonetheless, neither of you could care less about what other people thought, continuing to go about your day in pure content and joy.

After all, what they dont see is how, behind closed doors, you two are the perfect match.

To balance out his chaotic life and destructive nature, even Lohen needs grounding. And you are the perfect comfort for tirelessness. The person that prevents him from surpassing dangerous limits, and calms his fiery spirit.

Despite him constantly searching for more stimulation through prey hunting and reckless acts and burning out when he's forced to do tedious paperwork and mundane life tasks, the dopamine he gains from simply laying in your arms and spending time with you holds no match. Even while doing stuff that he'd normally consider unentertaining.

When he comes home from mission after mission, the first thing he does is seek your attention like a moth to a flame. The moment you hear a knock on your door or slow creeks, you're always there to greet him with a loving smile, asking him how he was, no matter if he was covered in blood stains (obviously not his own blood) or was clearly up to no good. You loved him for him. Especially Even the parts that scared other people away.

His face would immediately soften at your smile, either responding enthusiastically with a proud grin or a briefly muttered 'good' on the rare days he truly physically exhausted himself. Regardless of his level of energy that particular day, he would quickly wrap his arms around you. His body, which was tense from a long day of work or fighting, would evidently relax as you reciprocated the embrace.

He loved showering you with affection. He wasn't shy at all. He'd peck affectionate kisses all over your face, and an occasional suck on your neck, leaving you flushed despite it being a common occurence.

Nobody would've believed that this was the same man charging into the front lines and ambushing enemies without a single concern or worry in his mind, driven by a constant high and desire to win.

"Lohen.. Don't you need to rest first? Aren't you tired?" You breathed out, voice full of care. As much as you loved his kisses you still worried about his health, wanting to make sure he's always in his best shape.

"Mmm and miss out on time spent coddling you? Rest can come later." Lohen responded, voice vibrating lightly. He pecked slow kisses on your cheek and then your lips before resting his head on your shoulder.

You sighed, accepting defeat as you intertwined your fingers with his hair locks. These slow, quiet moments are stark contrasts to Lohen's usual restlessness but it's just what he needs, basking in content while listening to your heartbeat as you also sank into comfort.

A/N: my first fic in like 10ish months (so basically almost a year)

Kept procrastinating writing cause I was busy and lazy. During that time I felt my writing rapidly decline, so what better way to come back with a short and simple fic about the newest genshin 5 star (my beloved Lohen<3)?

Anyways tysm for reading :D

Also I dont know if anybody would read this far but would any of you guys be interested in genshin x reader fanfic requests? Sometimes I feel void of any new ideas and don't write for a while so having people request fics would really keep me motivated with lots of fun and creative new prompts

(might do other fandoms as well and i can write for a range of prompts, lmk if ur interested pls! ty)

[solocurus]

Lohen has had a particularly exhausting day. The first thing he sees when he gets home is you snuggled up on the couch, and he can't help but tackle and hug you from behind.

You laugh and ruffle his hair.

“Tired?”

He mumbles something into your shoulder. You open your mouth to speak but suddenly feel a dull prick on the back of your neck and yelp.

“Lohen! No biting, you animal!”

He giggles sadistically.

“Sorry, love. You just look delicious~”

[orang3rinds]

a softer type of life — lohen

⤹ sfw, oneshot, lohen's idea of domesticity is a little skewed at the end, may be ooc im still getting a handle on his character, kind of an analysis?, not beta read

(1.8k words)

cross-posted on ao3

For a man like Lohen, routine is a nightmare.

Perhaps the life of the expedition had changed him irreversibly— waking up in the wilderness every morning, never knowing for sure if he'd eat that night, sleeping with a hand around his dagger just in case a stray monster managed to wander past the night watch… perhaps it had been his childhood kidnapping that made him into this— a nocked arrow quivering against the bowstring. Always itching to be fired straight into the heart of the enemy, unable to stay in one place without a trained hand holding him back.

Or perhaps he had simply always been this way.

In any case, the original statement remains true. Lohen cannot stand a daily routine.

As his fellow knights grew accustomed to life in Mondstadt again, welcoming back their old habits, Lohen was forced to watch them grow far too comfortable. The same knights that he would go on morning patrols with through the wilderness now spent their mornings off casually watering plants and laughing with friends in the street. The same knights that would previously spend their nights polishing up their weapons in preparation for the next battle were now heading to the bar after their shifts, casually and jovially downing drink after drink without any concern over who would watch over them in their drunken stupor.

Lohen couldn't understand the desire for such simple things. These new routines of theirs only encouraged complacency— not to mention, they were also unbelievably restricting. Why spend time on things like sweeping leaves off your neighbor's porch, or catching a child's lost cat, when you could be spending that time getting stronger? Did his comrades not feel that itch under their skin when they sat too still? Could they not feel themselves splitting apart at the seams without something new? Were they really so content to remain exactly as they are? To remain so slow and weak and powerless and mortal?

Trying to understand it made Lohen's head spin. Those at the top of the food chain controlled everything beneath— If Lohen himself were nothing more than a rabbit, he would fight every day to claw his way up to the top with the wolves. He couldn't think to comprehend how someone could remain happy knowing that one day, they'd be eaten by a larger predator, and there would be nothing at all they could do about it.

Yet perhaps the most confusing of all was you.

You, who has never picked up a weapon in your life. He asked you about why, once— while watching you flit around your home to and fro as if cleaning the dust from your windows would be of any real benefit to you.

"I just never felt the need to, I suppose." You had looked at him a little curiously, but given him a smile when you answered nonetheless. Lohen found himself at a loss on what to say in return to that. It was absurd. Even as a young child, Lohen had been around weapons. His first toy was a handmade wooden bow from his parents— and even now, he never left his home without at least one dagger tucked up his sleeve.

But you were perfectly happy never to touch a weapon in your life. You were the very epitome of everything Lohen despised about himself. Slow. Weak. Powerless. Mortal.

And yet, for some reason he was unable to place, Lohen couldn't bring himself to hate you for it.

Instead, he found himself drawn into your presence like a moth to a flame. After his late night trips into monster camps he would end up at your door after every injury without fail, leaving puddles of blood on your porch step. You welcomed him in every time, your hands as gentle as the breeze as you ushered him into the warmth of your home.

"We've got to stop meeting like this," He'd joke, lightheaded from the blood loss— and you'd laugh in that way that reminded Lohen of the bells that chime around the city during Windblume. It was easy, in the dark of night, to ignore how his heart fluttered at the sound. It was less easy to ignore in the morning, while he helped you to scrub his bloodstains off of your porch.

But he had to wonder— When you touched him so carefully, to wipe the blood from his face with a damp cloth, to disinfect his numerous wounds— did it count as holding a weapon?

Lohen liked to think that it did. Perhaps it made him feel safer with the concept of your weakness; by having him around, you basically had a weapon on hand. A dangerous, volatile weapon, who was likely to cut the hands of whoever were to wield him, but a weapon nonetheless.

It certainly makes him feel safer now, standing at your doorstep out of uniform with a basket of fresh fruit in one hand and a dagger tucked into his other sleeve. Returning to your home feels a bit like returning a sword to its sheath— tucked away neatly so it can't cut anyone, while still remaining on the body of its owner in case of an emergency. While indulging in your weakness, Lohen is also keeping you safe at the same time. His presence alone is akin to that of a weapon, after all of the training he has gone through to twist himself into one.

Lohen tosses the thought of you owning him like a weapon around in his mind a bit, and finds rather quickly that the idea isn't entirely unpleasant to him.

"Lohen!" The door creaks a little when you push it open, and theres flour dusted across your cheeks. Your eyes don't even scan him for weapons before you're welcoming him inside, a grin tugging at your lips like it belongs there. "Come in, come in! I'm just baking right now, I'll put this down and we can chat!"

The knight can only shake his head, raising up the little basket of fruits he brought along with him. You brighten at the sight, and Lohen is a bit dazed by the fact that you hadn't even noticed that he was holding something. If someone had come to your door with a knife, would you have still opened it? Worse, still— would you have even been able to fight back?

Lohen can't ponder that thought for too long before you're approaching, keeping your powder-covered hands away as to not stain his clothes.

"Ehh, don't worry about that," Lohen finally said, his response feeling just a bit too late to be natural. "I'll help out. We can use some of the stuff I brought."

"Alright, alright. But you can't complain when I put you to work!" You laugh, and Lohen is once again reminded of the Windblume bells. "Why'd you bring this over, anyway? Some special occasion I'm forgetting?"

"Hm? Oh— Just consider it a… 'friendship fee'. They were a gift from my team, and they'd just rot at my place."

The lie slips out easily. In truth, Lohen had seen them for sale on the way to your home, and thought immediately of how you'd smile at the sight of such a gift. You seem somewhat content with his explanation, however, scoffing under your breath about how you don't need any kind of payment for your friendship.

Somehow, the word 'friendship' feels incredibly flimsy when Lohen thinks about you, but he makes no effort to correct himself in the moment.

"What're you making, anyway?" Lohen finally asks, clearing his throat a little as he sets the basket down on your counter.

"Apple pie!" You brush against his side as you eye up the fruits in the basket, carefully plucking out the ones that you deemed acceptable. Your touch feels hot against his side, even through his shirt. Lohen has to take a shaky breath in, the burn of your touch more delicious than any other pain he's ever felt. "Lucky you brought extra, I was worried I wouldn't have enough."

You set the handful of apples down in front of him one at a time, making a neat little row across the counter. Right next to them, you place down one of your kitchen knives. You carelessly leave the blade pointed at yourself, and Lohen can't stop himself from reaching over and pointing it towards himself instead when you aren't paying attention.

"Here, cut these up for me? With the both of us working, it should be a lot faster!" You turn away after that, busying yourself with finishing up the batter for what it likely the pie crust.

Seeing you so domestic was… almost frightening. Whether you realized it or not, this life you lived was unbearably fragile. One wrong move and this world you've built would come crumbling down into a heap. You'd be left defenseless, your simple routine of dusting windows so the sun shines through and baking on weekends for no reason in particular completely useless at leaving you prepared for such an outcome.

Lohen swallows hard, his throat suddenly feeling tight as he picks up the blade you left for him. It was hard to imagine himself ever living in such a fragile, gentle world with you. You turned your back away from him like you hadn't just given him a knife, trusting him wholly not to run the blade through your chest. He never would, of course, but there was no way you could ever truly know that.

His grip tightens around the knife in his hand, the sensation both familiar and foreign.

Out of the two of you, it was clear that you were the weaker party. You couldn't fight, you didn't own weapons, and you were overwhelmingly trusting of him. Perhaps to a fault.

So why was it that Lohen still felt that it was him? Why was it that his hands felt so useless when he saw your smile? Why was it your face he saw in his mind every time he lost a battle?

In an act of uncharacteristic obedience, Lohen turns away from your form and begins cutting up the apple you placed in front of him. He isn't sure when he became so invested in this domestic routine of yours, but imagining a life without it makes his stomach roll uncomfortably.

Lohen has trained himself into a weapon— but for you, he finds that the idea of living in a domestic routine suddenly doesn't sound too terrible. If you asked, he would gladly cut up apples for you while you baked. He would scrub his blood off your porch. He would fight off any monster that dared to look your way.

And this soft life you lived… Lohen would just have to become twice as strong to protect it in your stead.

No matter what.

[darlingdeerr]

Punishment

summary: after lohen and theodore‘s experiment was ended by varka and the others, he is ready to accept whatever punishment that awaits him, no matter what it is.

(lohen x fem!reader, (probably) ooc!lohen, masochist lohen, captain!reader, (lowkey) sadistic reader, sub!lohen, dom!reader, set after lohen‘s storyquest, therefore obviously spoilers.)

warnings: lowercase writing, english is not my first language, suggestive content, smut, pet play, bondage, slapping, condescending praise, degradation, grinding against boot, bit of manhandling, riding, light choking, unprotected sex.

there has been a lot going on these last days in Mondstadt.

the news about ursa the dragons flesh being used for reactivating the doctor‘s old experiment, and the death of the captain of the fifth company, adorno, spread around mondstadt, especially at the knights of favonius, rapidly.

the people behind it? lohen, the vice captain of the fifth company, and theodore.

you haven’t spoken with lohen since his little ‚experiment‘ got busted, more like that he’s been avoiding any sort of interaction with you. your day felt empty— without him practically begging if you would finally let him spar with you.

but you weren’t thinking about that too much— as a captain yourself, everyday of your life is packed with a lot of things.

paperwork, trainings, meetings— you could go on and on, but that would be useless.

useless especially— if you were trying to convince the grand master varka himself.

„grandmaster, are you seriously asking me to be the one in charge of the punishment lohen is going to be having?“

did the grandmaster seriously burst into your office this early in the morning to ask you this, or are you perhaps still half asleep?

varka laughed at your confusion, nodding his head.

„i am. i need to deal with a whole lot of stuff because of that guy, so i trust that you are able to handle giving lohen the punishment he deserves?“

your head tilted down, awkwardly staring at the ground.

lohen has always been trying to mess with you, trying to get you in all sorts of trouble just so he can have a laugh at you getting punished.

and you’re sure there are not any other people free to handle him right now— everyone has been working their hardest firstly in nodkrai and now with this experiment.

you also have to admit, you sure enjoy the idea of lohen obeying your every order— even if it means humiliating him or even torturing him.

seeing that maniac be stripped from his usual carefreeness, and listen to you with utter submission, is seriously making it hard for you to hold back a smile.

„alright, i will do it.“

varka smiled „haha— i knew i could count on you! just make sure it’s really a punishment for him— you know how he acts sometimes. enjoying pain and everything..“

yeah. just how will you truly make an punishment actually teach lohen a lesson?

„vice captain, captain [name] wants to see you in her office.“

one of his subordinates informed him.

lohen sighed, turning his head away, mindlessly chewing on his mint flavored bubblegum while spinning his knife by the sharp end.

he’s been avoiding you these last few days, and now you need to see him in your office?

„is it necessary?“

„yes, it’s an order from the grand master.“

lohen‘s knife stopped spinning, the gum now not being chewed on anymore, but his jaw stiffening.

„i’ll be there.“

every step lohen took to get to your office felt like an eternity.

you would probably ask him why he’s been avoiding you, but why is he even doing that? well, to be honest— lohen‘s just worried you’ll see him differently, weak, after finding out about his past with the doctor.

his hand rests over the doorknob, not yet opening the door.

did he look okay? he fought a lot of monsters these last few days, so maybe he’d have eyebags?

lohen shook his head. it doesn’t matter— why would he need to look pretty for you?

you’re just another person working as at the knights of favonius, nobody special to him.. right?

„archons, i sound pathetic.“ he sighs, before finally opening the door to your office.

your office was dimly lit, sheer curtains hanging over the windows, the room smelling of your perfume.

sitting at the desk in the middle of the office, was you— legs crossed, arms folded over your chest, while immediately staring right at him the moment he entered.

lohen seemed to find your window really interesting— according to the way he keeps staring at it while his cheeks slightly redden.

„take a seat, lohen.“

his body stiffened, before he obeyed, sitting down in the chair infront of your desk.

„what is it that you need from me? i have a lot of things i currently need to sort out—“

your voice cut him off in the middle of his sentence.

„I will keep it short. You know there’s still an punishment waiting for you?“

you tilt your head, your nails mindlessly tapping on the wooden table infront of you.

his eyes met yours, fingers fidgeting as he silently nodded.

„I know that.“

you smiled, your arms crossing.

„I am going to be in charge of it.“

his fingers stopped fidgeting, eyes shot open. did grandmaster varka seriously assign you to do it? he expected anyone but you.. what would you even do with him?

„w-what is it that i will need to do?“

will he be in solitary confinement?

you don’t answer him immediately, instead standing up, seemingly holding something behind your back.

you slowly walked to him, before standing right infront of him.

lohen couldn’t look you in the eyes— the way your taller frame was standing infront of him was being too much for him—

he suddenly heard an click— and felt something tight around his throat.

„you are going to be my pet for the rest of the week.“

lohen’s face immediately shot red— his fingertips touching the leather collar that was tightly wrapped around his throat.

this wasn’t anything lohen expected. did you mean it seriously? from the look of your face.. you’re dead serious.

your finger suddenly tilted his chin up, his eyes forcefully meeting yours.

the way you towered over him, your plump lips he could barely keep his gaze off, and the way your eyes never left his— he was seriously down bad for you, and you haven’t even done anything to him.

he didn’t say anything, what could he even say?! he just nodded, silently obeying your command.

„Pet‘s always listen to their master, so don’t even think about talking back to me, and they only address their owner as ‚master’. do you understand?“

lohen didn’t say anything, his mind a mess.

slap!

he suddenly felt a sharp pain at his cheek, his head tilted slightly to the side at the impact, his hand touching the now probably red mark.

„too slow. i repeat— do you understand?“

lohen immediately nodded, his brain only filled with full submission to your orders, and pleasure to your slap.

„i understand.“

„good boy.“

the next day started with him immediately at your side.

most people stared at you two with confused faces, but you didn’t care about that, walking confidently with him following you. you have to admit— he’s doing a pretty good job at being a pet.

carrying all of your stuff, doing the tasks you were too busy for, or even being the victim of your consistent teasing.

„are you going to be a good boy?“

„that wasn’t so hard now— was it?“

„you poor thing, turns out you are useful.“

those words seriously messed with his brain. normally if anyone would say that to him, he’d never let them— but just why did he enjoy you talking to him like this?

he shook his head. he couldn’t keep thinking about that— he has been already uncomfortably hard the whole afternoon, he couldn’t possibly handle this any longer.

„lohen?“

his eyes shot open, looking up at you. you two were on the way back from dorman port to the headquarters of the knights of favonius, in an almost endless field of green grass and flowers.

„y-yes, master?“

you stopped infront of him, your hand reaching out to slowly slide over his head, petting his soft hair.

„you’ve been doing a good job today.“

you maybe expected a smile, or even a ‚thank you‘, but you didn’t expect him to..

moan. a low, deep moan escaped his lips the moment your fingers made contact with his head.

your eyes only widened even more when your eyes trailed down— finally noticing the obvious bulge in his pants.

„you serious? getting this excited even though i did not even touch you till now?“

his eyes squeezed shut, cheeks heating up.

„im sorry, i can’t control myself when you.. talk to me like that.“

your hand roughly pulled at his hair, making him moan while his head is tilted up to you.

„you like getting degraded and praised? such a dirty boy..“

quiet whimpers left his lips, trying to get closer to you, but you kept your grip tight on his head.

„if you want to be touched so badly, you’ll need to wait till we’re at my office.“

he so badly wanted to talk back, say anything— but he didn’t want to ruin his only chance of satisfaction.

so he just nodded, then walked after you.

the door locked behind you the moment you two entered your office.

lohen’s back met the wooden material of your door, your hand tightly grabbing his collar.

„this was supposed to be an punishment, but i think you’re rather enjoying this..“

not letting him answer, you pressed your lips against his.

your tongue finds an opening past his lips, claming his mouth with dominance. You tilt your head, as you push your tongue deeper into his mouth, filling his brain with only the feeling of your tongue and your lips.

he moaned into the kiss, desperately trying to keep up with your pace.

you pulled away from his lips— breathless, cheeks flushed a rosey pink tint.

„you’re such a freak.. getting this excited over your ‚punishment.“

you sat down at the couch in your office, lohen standing infront of you. you easily pushed him down on his knees.

„go on, be a good pet, show me how badly you need my touch.“

his face filled with confusion, desperately trying to think of an answer to get you to touch him.

he only whines, hands digging into the flesh of your thighs, before his hips grinded his erection against the leather of your boots.

this was so dirty, he thought. him on his knees, pathetically trying to relieve himself on your boots.

„p- please..“ he quietly whimpered, his eyes shut while tears started forming in them. he needed this so badly, he was so hard for you.. why can’t you show him a little mercy?

he kept grinding against your boots, sweat clinging onto his skin under the layers of his uniform.

his movements started becoming sloppier and faster, his breathing’s volume increasing.

„i- im so close.. please..“

you decided to help him a little, grinding your foot against his clothed cock.

„f- fuck!—“ he moaned— cumming all in his underwear, while breathlessly speaking your name like a prayer.

„You did so well. I think you deserve a reward.“

his eyes practically sparkled, you slowly unbuckling the belt of your pants.

„sit down here.“

he clumsily took a seat next to you, but before he could even truly realize it, his hands were already tied up over his head.

„you look so pretty— tied up and desperate to touch me.“

he whined, strands of hair messily hanging in his face.

your hands moved to his belt, unbuckling it just slow enough to tease him.

after you finally removed his belt, your hands finally got to the part of removing his other layers of clothing— till his length finally sprung free, drops of precum already leaking out.

„so hard, even tho you just came?“

your hand slowly pumped his length, an agonizing pace for lohen.

smearing his precum all over his length, he was already close to cumming from your touch again.

his hips jerk, twitching. You squeeze his tip so hard, the tight grip you have on his making his throat escape more of those pretty little noises.

he pants and whimpers, so desperate for his orgasm— that you wouldn’t let him have.

your hand started slowing down again, before completely stopping.

his tear filled eyes shot up to meet yours, practically sobbing.

„w- why did you stop..?“

you didn’t answer, instead, you slowly pulled off your pants, being left in a pair of silky panties that were already soaked, sticking to your core.

you hovered your hips above his length.

„I’ll try to be gentle, you can handle it.“

your hips slowly sunk down on his cock, your warm gushy walls welcoming his tip.

his hands desperately yearned to touch you, if only they weren’t tied up together. he would probably have red bruises all over his wrists tomorrow, but that would only be a sign of your love.

length finally completely filling out your hole, the skin of you both was covered in a thin layer of sweat. you slowly start drawing circles on his cock, before quickening the pace of bouncing on him.

it's so sloppy, so wet and lewd, and lohen is losing his mind. he keeps panting and moaning, cock throbbing inside your warm walls. it’s like he can't get enough of the way you clamp and suck him in.

„d- don’t stop..“ he begged, brain only filled with the thought of you.

your toes curled and back arched when you increased your pace, orgasm building up with such an intensity that it is making you feel dizzy.

his eyes roll back into his scull, strands of his bangs sticking to his sweaty skin.

„'m so close—! you feel t- too good..“ his voice was absolutely fucked, words slurred in pleasure.

your cunt was clenching around him, the wet and sloppy sounds filling the otherwise silent office.

you can’t lie, you’re also pretty damn close to cumming— having not been able to have sex in a while.

„m- master! i can’t handle this much longer— please.. please let m-me cum!“

unfortunately you didn’t focus much on his babbling anymore, seeking your own orgasm.

you’re riding him straight into stupidity, pulling his orgasm to the surface so fast that he can't even mentally grasp it through the pleasure.

your hand moved to his throat, hand pulling tightly around the collar, and that was the last thing it took for him to cum.

filling your pussy with his warm seed, it didn’t take much for you to cum shortly after him, riding out your orgasm on his length.

after a moment of catching your breath, you looked up at lohen, his face filled with full bliss.

you sighed, swiftly undoing the knot around his wrists.

„it didn’t seem like this was much of an ‚punishment‘ for you..“

„you can’t call it that if i have you near me.“ he spoke, voice rough.

„you moron..“

you clicked your tongue, before making it your role to clean the two of you up.

lohen still laid on your couch, exhausted from the pleasure he felt just minutes ago.

„You do realize, it’s only monday. I still have the whole rest of the week to do what i please with you.“

he immediately heard the sadistic note in your voice, eyes widening.

just what have you got planned for the next days?

A/N: wow it’s my second posted fanfic! (˶>⩊<˶) thank u for reading, i’d highly appreciate any feedback, and also every like, reblog and comment is highly appreciated! If you’d even like me to write an request, my asks are open!

please do not repost, translate, or copy my works. please do not use ai on my works ༉‧₊˚.

divider credits: @uzmacchiato

[hitomisuzuya]

lohen x fem!reader. smut. semi-public. cunnilingus/face sitting. degradation. lohen being a menace. slight spoilers for lohen story quest.

as promised, a continuation of a letter from lohen. thank you everyone for all the support. i was tearing up yesterday. this one is for all of you.

to say that lohen felt ravenous once he got sprung from solitary confinement is an understatement. he couldn't keep his lips off of yours, casually steering you towards varka's office while he paws at your clothes.

"l-lohen, are you sure we should be doing this?" you pull away as he kicks varka's office door closed.

"nahh, i am pretty sure varka already knows this happening," lohen's fingers dance up the bumps in your spine, making you shiver, "so don't worry about it, it's fine," his fingers expertly unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the floor. the knights undoubtedly screened his letters to you before sending them. and rightfully so.

"w-what-?!" you protest as lohen's fingers dip into your panties. they immediately find your clit, and your body suddenly melts. you can barely think with the pads of his fingers circling your clit.

a tingle of excitement shots through lohen as he guides you to straddle his face, feeling your thighs resting on the sides of his head. he licks his lips before parting your pussy lips with his tongue.

needless to say, it doesn't take long for your moans to fill varka's office. thinking of thoroughly tasting your cunt is what got him through the long nights in solitary confinement. his mouth is ravenous, and sloppy on your cunt.

flattening his tongue, he swipes it up to your clit. the tip curls sinfully around, and around the throbbing nub. he doesn't just groan into your cunt as the sharp pang of pleasure makes your thighs tighten around his head.

he straight up moans, loudly. "i have been waiting for this," his fingers grope around on your soft, pillowy thighs. he is quick to scoop your clit into his mouth to suck on. your back arches as you grind your cunt on his mouth, your fingernails scratching at the leather on arms of the couch.

releasing your clit with a soft pop, he sweeps his tongue down to your quivering hole. he slurps into your cunt, lapping his tongue at your hole. your core tightens as you whine. as good as his tongue felt fucking into your hole, your throbbing clit is now neglected.

"i've got you, bunny. i've got you," lohen soothes, bringing his hands up to your hips, "i'll take care of you," holding onto your hips, he guides you to grind on his mouth again.

pushing his tongue inside you, he intends to taste every inch of your gummy walls clenching around it. your thighs squeeze his head as his tongue suddenly flattens on your clit.

lohen ruts his aching cock into the air. it needs to be tended to, badly. hard, straining, and leaking in his pants. he would reach down, and at least free it from its confines, but he much too occupied with how fucking good your cunt tastes.

your lewd moans rise in octave as lohen assaults your clit with his tongue. your body twitches, clenching your thighs around his head. he moans loudly into your pussy, gripping your hips tighter as you rock your hips down.

"that's it, my little bunny slut," he slurps softly on your cunt, "fuck yourself on my tongue. make a mess on my face," he latches his lips on your clit again, greedily sucking as your pussy soaks his face.

you whine as your clit throbs, bringing one hand up to play with your nipple for extra stimulation. you cry out as your body twitches in pleasure.

your hips now rock shamelessly down into his mouth. let's face it, you have missed him too. you need this just as much as he does. "oh lohen, make me cum, please," you moan, rolling your nipple hard between your fingers, "i need it! please!"

lohen can't help but snicker at how cute you sound. "oh please, allow me, my lady," he is a knight of favonius, after all.

he knows exactly what to do to make you cum. even better if someone heard how good he is tongue fucking you. a few calculated prods of his tongue on your clit snap the knot of your orgasm apart. you sob with pleasure, feeling boneless, gripping the couch to hold yourself up.

lohen gropes around on your thighs as you weakly ride out your orgasm. you sure do look cute sobbing softly, and twitching from pleasure on varka's couch.

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DO NOT plagiarize/translate/repost on tumblr or any other site without my permission.