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Hit Me Harder ft. LOHEN

Lohen x reader, established relationship, cw: slightly suggestive; alludes to sex afterward, written pre-release

It’s been two hours with the vice captain of the 5th company.

You grit your teeth, barely parrying Lohen’s spear as he lunges toward you. No, probably closer to three hours now, you think vaguely to yourself, both annoyance and exhilaration flashing in your gaze.

Your boyfriend is insane.

Not that you didn’t know beforehand, of course — the man had rather bizarre ways of courting you, ranging from bloodsoaked roses smothered in a poor enemy’s remains to gifting you the 5th company’s latest ranged weaponry. After you two had made it official, rather than a romantic candlelit dinner or stargazing on Starsnatch Cliff, Lohen’s favorite activity with you was sparring day to night.

You sigh.

Truly, how did you end up like this?

Mustering the last of your strength, you press the haft of your weapon hard against Lohen’s. The vice captain staggers away from you, one hand still clutching his battered spear as he wipes a drop of blood from his lip with the other.

With labored breaths, you glance up, expecting to see a look of surprise (or even defeat, you pray — you hope to end this grueling duel as soon as possible) on his face. Instead, you’re met with only pure, battle-drunk bliss.

Lohen’s lips are smeared with dust and blood, yet there’s not a trace of fatigue on them. Rather, an almost feral grin splits the vice captain’s dirtied up face, along with a matching feverish glimmer in those crimson eyes you’ve somehow grown to love. The burning blush that sweeps from his cheeks and further down to his neck only gives you confirmation of how utterly delighted he is.

It’s sick, yet you can’t help but squeeze your thighs together.

“Oh, how interesting,” Lohen chuckles breathlessly, advancing toward you. You gaze warily at the man, grip tightening on the handle of your weapon as you brace yourself for his next words.

“That was a rather…fun battle, wasn’t it?,” he exhales, grin widening on his flushed cheeks. The vice captain’s voice is almost akin to a shaky groan, and although you should be used to such a response, you’re unnerved nonetheless.

Lohen then takes another step toward you, and you back up, a weak complaint ready on your tongue. But the vice captain doesn’t seem to particularly care as he starts to close the gap between your bodies.

“Lohen, this is ridi—“ you start, but your voice falters when you feel your back hit a column of cold, mossy stone. In the vastness of The Thousand Winds Temple, you’re trapped. Your predicament ignites a fire in Lohen’s eyes, one that matches the various nasty cuts and crimson bruises scattered across his once-porcelain skin. A triumphant grin crawls onto your boyfriend’s lips as he presses an arm above your head, caging you in.

“Ridiculous?” he laughs, as if it’s the funniest thing in the world. “Oh, no, gorgeous. I think it’s quite the opposite.”

You frown, sighing in exasperation. “Lohen—“

But before you can say more, you feel his lips crash against yours. It’s rough and desperate, making you gasp in surprise as your weapon clatters onto the stone floor. The spar is long forgotten, the only bloodshed being the iron tang of Lohen's blood flooding your mouth, his bruised up lip fighting yours in a much different battle.

It doesn’t take long for you to melt into the kiss, your body becoming soft and pliant in his grip.

You feel Lohen grin. He always does after you submit to him.

Your boyfriend bites at your lower lip, attempting to force his tongue into your mouth. You oblige without hesitation, letting out a muffled groan as you feel the wet muscle intrude. Lohen moans into your mouth as he presses his chest insistently against yours in an effort to get impossibly closer.

It’s only then that you realize there’s also something hot and hard pressing insistently against your lower stomach.

A strangled sound bubbles in your throat as you forcibly pull away from Lohen, an almost scandalized look in your eyes. He merely shrugs, smiling wolfishly at your shock.

“What?” he smirks, voice shaky with excitement. “I can’t help it when you’re under me and all marked up like this.”

Lohen gently thumbs at a nasty cut on your face, inspecting the blood on his glove. “You should know by now how much I get turned on when we spar,” he coos. As if to prove his point, he rolls his hips against yours, letting you feel the obvious bulge in his trousers.

Your breath catches in your throat. “I do know,” you reply, voice barely a whisper.

Lohen chuckles darkly, leaning closer until your noses are practically touching. “Good,” he murmurs. His eyes are still twitching, you notice — as if adrenaline has wholly taken over his body.

“Because someone needs to solve my problem right now, don’t they?” he purrs, fingers surrounding the column of your throat.

Another kind of sparring commences.

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