vindictusoverlord

[vindictusoverlord]

Greetings, Earthlings! It’s a Tartaglia fic… Fontaine be hittin 🥰🥴

The word count in this one is: 7,023. Reposted bc Wattpad wildin, and I’m just tryna cook.

TW; Kink list including: CNC, daddy/mommy, breeding, slapping/biting, dirty talk, submissive!Reader, public(ish)

Thanks for tuning in.

--  ץдкรђค

----------

For the last three damn months, he had been playing this game with you.

In the beginning, your guard was high. Something about this uncomfortably friendly Snezhnayan man sent chills up your spine that didn't let up, even long after he had gone and left you to your devices. Being a foreign diplomat was a false cover and you knew that. The unfortunate business had it that your job was literally to assist him with whatever, wherever, and whenever he may need it, which often meant scrambling to complete paperwork he didn't want to do, or organize meetings with particularly difficult clientele he didn't want to deal with. Being in the business of legality left you with massive stacks of paperwork's following his Mora concerns, and the tax calculations along with them. Your boss fell beside himself whenever Childe entered the building, sprouting on and on about the Bank and Fatui's prominence, refusing to hear anything you had to say about the matter. Even if you understood why, the sad sack was nothing more than a Grade A ass kisser.

You wished you could print it on a name tag and sew it to his oversized forehead.

Truthfully, it wasn't just the way your boss behaved that upset you. The whole endeavor made you sick and nothing but loathing had emerged from your stomach towards the foreigner. It was a deep feeling, one that siphoned your will to be friendly and cordial and replaced it only with a senseless dread.

Hands placed on the edges of the sink, you sigh out, hunching your sore, overworked back. Much of your stress hung there, pressing angrily against strained nerves. In the mirror, you gaze at your reflection; water dripped from your hair to your skin, and then onto the cool tile with soft platplatplats to take up the silent air. It was cold today, and the atmosphere in your small apartment had been tense.

With a heavy heart, you raise a towel to your hair, wicking away the water, slowly working down to dry your body, before wrapping it finally within your (h/c) locks. It was going to be a long day, and you knew that, but nothing had prepared you for the next 17 hours of running around Liyue on behalf of Childe, your man-child of a boss, or the ever present dock merchants. By the time you got home again later that night, your feet ached and your body could barely hold itself up.

You collapse on your couch, flinging your shoes off back towards the door. The business uniform would have to do as sleep attire for now.

I'm so tired....

Your mind began to drift towards sleep. It was another night without dinner, but that hadn't seemed to bother you much the last few days. Carried softly to sleep by the soft sounds of the ocean, you—

Knock! Knock! Knock!

"(Y/N!)" The frantic barrage just a few feet away startled you awake. "(Y/N), please! Open up!"

You let out a hiss as you stand, feeling the soreness of your knees as you rise. "Okay, okay," you mutter, undoing the deadbolt, and opening the door slowly. "Do you know what fucking time it is? What is it?"

On the other side, your team's paper catcher stood straight as a board. His name was lost to your tongue most times, as he was nose deep in paperwork and served more as a scapegoat to the office than anything else. You believed it started with a T....

"(Y/N)! I'm so sorry to bother you this late; I know it's past the end of your shift and I'm sure you'd much rather be sleeping but—"

His voice prattled on and on;

"What does he want?" You pinch your brow. "Is it that ridiculous Shneznayan again? I already told you, man. I'm not running anymore errands for the fucking Fatui tonight, and sure as shit not for that Archon-forsaken Harbinger either."

The receptionists face went white as soon as the words left your mouth. He cleared his throat and forced a smile, stepping to the side. "The esteemed Childe requested to speak to you, (Y/N). I do apologize for the intrusion, but I um--" He looks back and forth, breath catching quickly in his throat. "If you'll please excuse me, I— I do wish you both a very pleasant evening." and with that, he scurried off. You open your door further to peer past, wondering where he could have gone so quickly.

And on the other side, the tall, red-headed man stands slides into view before you. His smile is sinister as he peers at you with a curious look in his eye. "Well, well! If it isn't the lovely Miss (Y/N). It truly is a pleasure to see you again."

Shit.

You straighten, holding the door firmly in place. "Likewise. What can I assist you with at this time, Childe?" It was hard to hide the venom in your voice.

He shifts his weight, crossing his arms. "I did request your help with something, but it sounds like you don't like us very much. Maybe I could ask your boss instead—"

"No, that won't be necessary." You step forward from your door. "I'd be happy to help. Just need my shoes first."

The solemn grimace on your face seemed to serve as entertainment to deepen his sadistic smile. You swallow your pride, and prayed this assignment would be over soon.

He led you through the quiet streets of Liyue, not daring to disturb the peace of the calming city. Below you, a skeleton crew of dock workers bustled about, and a few business's lights began to go out. A cold breeze had settled over the sea, bringing in a fog that only served to make the air more frigid.

You shiver, holding tightly to your arms, and never letting your gaze leave the man that guided you along. He held himself high. Everything about him, from his head to his shoes, radiated something across from resembling dignified and laid back. His long, white coat fussed in the breeze, the heavy tails trailing behind him as he walked along. His pace was quick, and it took a lot out of you just to keep up.

Oh, to be a Fatui Harbinger. You wondered to yourself, absently thinking about the leisure they must enjoy. An endless supply of money, power, and political outreach; well, they all enticed you. Part of you wondered if it was possible to reach that level of comfort here in Liyue, as your bills were barely scraped by with what you did earn... which was quite a bit more than most. It was expensive in the city, and as much as you worked, you knew it would not be enough.

Eventually, the Golden House appeared before you. It's long elegant steps laid out the path Childe began to follow and you carried on directly behind him. Your fatigue had set in strongly now, mind becoming blank from the long days. You needn't ask the task, as you'd been here many times previous. It was paperwork. Always fucking paperwork.

With grace, he brandished a polished brass key and pushed open the large double doors. The building was empty, as to be expected, and the echoes of your footsteps brought clarity back to your mind even if for a split second. Beyond the massive corridor, a few hallways darted off and separated into smaller offices. He leads you down to an office near the back, the only barely lit door slightly ajar in the whole building.

You'd never seen anyone else at the Golden House. It had always just been the two of you, and maybe your boss or the Quixing, but rarely. Keqing herself could hardly spare the time.

He turns to you, gesturing to the desk. "Yep, you guessed it! Paperwork." He chuckles, trying to lighten the mood. "Oh, come on, you can't hate me that much, girlie! I just need a few signatures and you'll be on your way."

You suck air through your teeth. Girlie. Cringe.

Without much else to say, you take your seat and get to work. The Harbinger takes a spot across from you on the opposite side of the desk. He kicks his feet up, gingerly placing his shoes as far as he can decently manage from the stacks of paperwork. From the inter pocket of his overcoat, he pulls out a book and flips a few pages to the middle. Now that he was out of your way, you could focus.

Soon, you'd go home.

After a few hours, it seemed that all the stacks had been finished. Your fingers ached.

"Is there anything else I can do for you or can I please go home now?" You sigh, not daring to move from your spot. You had a sneaky feeling he'd come up with something else.

He seems to ponder for a moment, closing his book. Your irritation grows quickly as you wait. Seconds turn to what feels like hours and your blood runs loudly in your ears. "You know," he says, "I really should find more work for you. Maybe it's not enough for you to be grateful to be employed."

He must have seen the anger on your face because he continues on as if it amuses him. "You really don't like me much, huh, girlie? I think the big man wouldn't be too happy to hear that you put up a fight and made me mad, right?"

He stands slowly, shirking off his overcoat and draping it over the plush couch cushion.

"Or maybe, you could apologize and be nicer to me," Childe makes his way around the desk, cooing his ultimatum. His aura feels like he's stalking you like prey; the pure bloodlust makes your skin crawl like a million bugs. "And we can move on, or," As he approaches you, he lowers his face to your exposed neck. You feel his lukewarm, minty breath burn against your skin, prickling it like a thousand needles. Your heart stops when he grips your shoulder, and as his hand creeps up to your throat, you feel that fear giving way to... what is that feeling?

He whispers so softly, you thought you misheard. "I can fuck the obedience into you."

You gulp, struggling on the frog in your throat. Realizing what he said, you jump up and wheel around, bumping hard into the desk. "Excuse me?" Your voice breaks.

"Now that," he puts his hands up, shaping a rectangle with his fingers. "I like that look on your face, Miss (L/N)." His arrogant laugh rings menacingly. "Are you awake now?"

You're taken aback by the tonal shift. His voice is lighthearted and fun again. "I—" you begin, and choke on your words.

"You?" Childe asks, amusement marching like a parade across his handsome face. "Go ahead."

You choke, clear your throat and say goodbye to your pride, and continue. "I'm truly sorry, Childe. For the way I've acted. I can't lose this job. I'm sorry."

He hums, moving the rolling chair out of his way. He steps closer, amusing himself with your ragged presentation. "See," he says, and quickly snakes a hand behind your head. His fingers tangle in your hair, forcing your head back to look at him. "That just won't do."

Without meaning to, you let out a yelp, bringing your hands up defensively to the arm gripping you. His other arm scoops and lifts you ass first onto the heavy wooden desk, scattering stacks of the finished papers all about the ground. Your back slams down with his weight above you, the man's face just inches from your own. "Say it like you fucking mean it."

Your breathing is ragged, chest heaving as he leers over your tiny form. His oceanic gaze pierces through you, an intense longing somewhere deep within the sultry lust; you feel him pressing firmly against your thighs. His hips are rigid and firm, unmoving against your squirming body. "I'm sorry, sir!" You blurt, cringing almost immediately after and expecting the worst.

His soft lips meet your cheek, gently kissing your quivering jaw. "Mm, I like that..."

He then pulls back, chuckling at your response. In kind, he releases your hair, purring at your response. "That's much better."

He straightens up and walks away from the desk where you lay, grabbing his jacket on his way towards the door. The suddenness of his retreat left you cold and unwanted, closer to unfinished than anything. His demeanor had surfaced something within you. It was close to a strong, unbound loathing, but your insides... well, they were alit with a mean flame of desire all the same.

"You're free to go home, girlie." He says, standing in the doorway. "After you clean this up, of course. Those papers are due to Ningguang by sunrise. I'll need you to do that, too."

You peered at the clock that now lay on the equally disheveled carpet flooring.

03:07 AM.

With a heavy, uneven sigh, you lower yourself from the desk and began gathering the papers. You found yourself doing that a lot lately, and grew rather tired of cleaning up other's messes.

Why did he do that?

-----

For several days following, Childe did not act different than he normally would with his business partners. He was cordial and polite, no longer requesting you at every second of the day. At times, his fiery gaze would occasionally linger on you when the two of you were alone, but would not last longer than a few moments if you caught him. The work load seemed to lighten, too, and at least that helped reduce your work stress. The problem that remained was the cuttable tension that arguably had you just as stressed as before. Every time you felt his gaze, you squirmed in your spot, aching.

What was all that about anyways?

It kept you up at night, steaming in your head an uncertainty and jealousy of his attention. All this time of harassing you, bothering you, overworking you, and now he had nothing to even say to you if you passed by. Looking back, it seemed to be often that the two of you would cross paths even if it didn't make sense to do so.

But because the work load had dissipated so substantially, you decided that for the first time in months, you should let your guard down a bit. Clearly, he had at least listened to you at some point. The new-hires had been exceptionally diligent leading up to the next traditional event Liyue was hosting at the Terrace. Overall, you allowed yourself to relax and take everything by stride. Taking over as a trainer had been very beneficial in the end.

It was a far cry to hope this lasted longer than a few days but it was worth a shot you supposed. The nameless Fatui agent held the door open before you as they had done many times before, you felt at ease for your summons to the Harbinger's office. Your palms felt steady, confident, holding the stack of manila folders. After receiving a friendly greeting from the desk agent and signing in, you made your way down the unnecessarily long hallway and to the ornate frosted glass door.

"Wow, look who it is!" He chimes, calling out shortly before you reached his door as if he knew you were coming. "You sure are fast!"

You pause, standing in the doorway. "More folders; Keqing herself signed off on your proposition to the festival."

"Is that right?" He asks, his gaze is fiery, challenging even, with his fingers interlaced under his chiseled chin. "Glad to hear it."

You nod your head, place the folders in the empty drop box beside the door, and turn for the exit. "If you'll excuse me."

"No, no, please stay for a moment, (Y/N)."

Oh, that tone...

You suck in your teeth, gazing around the room at anything else but him. He was so intimidatingly beautiful and the power he held in one finger could hold back a whole crowd with ease. He commanded obedience and it tortured you that that very thought had been in your mind every night you spent alone. Even the gentle voice he used here seemed to hold your being in place, churning a beast within.

The office was large; much larger than your living room and held a variety of extravagant decorum across the area. Two large velvet sofas, both dyed a deep burgundy, and a heavy, dark wood coffee table sat at a distance, with a large portion of the wall to your right covered in towering bookshelves. On the wall behind his desk, windows adorned with heavy velvet curtains scored out a panoramic view of the harbor and seafront. Small wrought iron shelves adorned with a variety of meticulously kept plants and flowers from different areas, and supplied the room with a very clean, humid atmosphere. Even the lighting, which was almost completely supplied by the noon sun, set the room leagues away from your own environment and shamed your personal cubicle.

The Harbinger before you stands, silently creeping around his desk to catch the door behind you. He quietly brings it to a close before pulling out a chair for you. "Please, have a seat."

He smiles, letting you rest in the plush chair. You mumble out a thank you, stiffening your back as proper as you're able. Childe leans across from you on the desk and crosses his legs at the ankles. After a moment, he speaks, "Is there anything that I, or the Northland Bank, can do for you to make your tasks more enjoyable, Miss (L/N)?" His hand holds his chin perked up and inquisitive, watching you from above.

Your face flushes, not coming up on any real words. You found yourself landing back on the typical response, relishing in it's soft ease off your lips. "N-No, not really. I've... not felt the best, so I may have been slacking on my duties."

"You've been doing fine, actually. In fact, you're far exceeding expectations but," He exhales heavily, grabbing his glass of dark wine delicately. As the man cups the glass, you find yourself lingering on his long, slender fingers. He catches your gaze and taps them individually on the glass teasingly. "Something's on your mind. You seem distracted~"

"Hmm— Nope, I'm okay!" You laugh nervously, scratching the back of your head. You remember how those same fingers felt twisting in your hair for those few moments. Within your chest, you feel your heart skip a beat and heat your veins.

"Just be honest. We're all friends here." There's that same devious smile on his lips as before, and your mind begins to wander viciously.

"Okay, sure." An inhale, an exhale, you stiffen. "But I meant it. I don't have anything to say."

He hums. "Nothing at all?"

"Nothing at all, sir."

"That attitude... you don't give me that when you're working for me anymore." He grins, gathering a view over your rigid form. "I really wish you would."

Before you realize what you're saying, you ask: "Oh? Is that so?"

"Oh~" A glitter in his eyes appears, his glare intense over the wine glass. "It'd make the punishment all the better, don't you think?"

You shudder with a bubbling anger, hating every inch of confidence this man has with in him. He knows that he's doing, and it pisses you off all the more. "I'll—"

He sets the glass down. "You'll, what? Hm?" Childe leans forward, close enough to your ear that you can feel his breathing. "You'll tell on me?"

The man drops to a squat, hands resting on his knees. This way, he's almost eye level with you and all the more intimidating. "Are you gonna tell them how much you liked it, too? What about how you desperately wanted me to fuck you right there in the office?

"Or," Childe brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trace along your jaw, and finally, down your neck to your shirt collar, earning a hearty shiver. His other hand finds it's place on your lower thigh, making tiny swirls with his thumb. It slowly tracks up your thigh and under your skirt, tugging on the hem briefly before disappearing underneath. "How you think about me every night when you touch yourself? Biting your pillow and crying my name..." His breath comes out like a shudder, almost as if he's mocking you as he enunciates ever syllable. "'Tar...tag...li...a!~'"

Your body shrinks in the chair. His presence is so overwhelming. "Stop that..."

Instinctively, you reach out to push away his touch.

As soon as his soft lips graze against your neck, your heart is going a million miles an hour. The tip of his tongue trails across your sensitive flesh, raising goosebumps all over. "I can't stop," His fingers slide under the fabric of your cotton panties, moving in slow shapes along your sex, but you don't move your hands away. "Unless you beg me to." He mutters and your whole body almost caves in on itself.

His teeth sink softly into your skin, allowing just a small rush of pain and adrenaline to catch you off guard, bucking your hips by instinct. You rush to cover your mouth before any sounds come out, and Tartaglia grins against your skin, speaking in between the trail of sloppy kisses he leaves behind. "Such... a good... girl..."

The man lifts his face slightly to view your expression. "Oh~ Look at that~" He purrs, delicately moving his fingers in slow, circular motions over your clit. You can feel the heat bubbling up again. You think for a moment that he may have spied on you before when he mentioned your... private extracurricular activities. Just the idea of that alone was enough to bring the edge close. He was here, touching you, speaking so lewdly to you, and for the longest time, that had just been a dream.

"P-please..." You grip the arm rests of the chair, thighs twitching with anticipation. "That's not fair..."

"Aww, girlie," he casually removes the two fingers from under your skirt, placing his large palm against the side of your face. He cups your cheek so tenderly, holding up your trembling jaw almost as if he truly cared. "Are you scared of me?"

You gaze back at him through heavy eyelids, nodding slowly. How badly you fought yourself on the morality of all of this... It started to give way.

"Good," he growls, sending a firm smack to your cheek. "You fucking should be." He rises to his feet quickly.

A surprised gasp escapes your lips, your mind recoiling over itself. Without a second to spare, he grabs your face again and holds your chin firmly in place. "Stand up."

You shakily do so, noticing how much he towers over you. He hastily turns the two of you around, lifting you up onto his empty desk. Tartaglia moves his hands gingerly from your hips up your torso, snaking up the skin underneath your sweater. You feel every movement he makes, his lips leaving soft love bites on your neck, his rough palms against your warm flesh, and the way his chilled fingers pressed firmly into your sides to keep you in place.

Tartaglia kisses along your jaw, sneaking a kiss as he makes his way around. Your face burns as you return his fervor, finding a perfect chemistry. Chest in disarray, beating hard against your ribs, you arch your back to press into his towering form. He smiles and hums into the kiss, feeling your small hands reach up to tangle in his hair, your legs wrap like rope around his waist trying desperately to cling to his warmth. Your confidence seems to stir something in his mind.

He pulls back, just barely grazing your lips with his own. "You really piss me off, you know that?"

The harbinger's hips grind a bit rougher against yours, moving in something of an infinity shaped motion. You catch his bottom lip with your teeth and earn a deep growl from the man before you. He quickly lifts your uniform sweater above your breasts, cupping them firmly in this hands, toying with your nipples through the thin, lacy fabric of your bra.

Tartaglia moves down between your thighs once again, never breaking his rhythm within your kiss. A soft moan escapes your lips, lost in the heat of the moment.

Without hesitation, Childe shoves you back onto the desk, looming over you like a predator. He hooks his hands under your thighs, pulling you to the end of the desk. Your ass barely hangs over the edge; inner thighs still pressed up tightly against his waist. His eyes are dark, full of lust.

"I'm going to break you," Childe straights his back, trailing his hands back down your thighs, and then back up. He pushes up your skirt, revealing a black matching lace undergarment; you flush, overwhelmingly nervous.

Beneath his large frame, you felt a strong panic as his body weight pinning you against the heavy oak table.

You struggle to get away, squirming finally out of his grasp and headed quickly towards the door.

"Aht, aht, aht~" he coos, pulling your arms back and slamming you face first back on the desk. Your back is turned to him now, his hips grinding slowly against your bottom. "Where do you think you're going, girlie?"

You shudder. Your stomach churns from his demeanor, feeling overwhelmed by the grip of his hands on your wrists. He holds them firmly above your head with one hand, and for a moment, your panic almost caves. "Childe... please~!"

"Doesn't really sound like you're asking me, (Y/N), so," His soft lips graze across your nape. "No, I don't think I will."

You feel your skirt hike up your back again, and his free hand finds it's place fondling your bottom. He squeezes firmly, prepping himself to smack hard.

SMACK!

You yelp, a fierce heat radiating across your ass.

"Fuck you!" You raise your voice back at him. So badly do you want to lay onto him, to release a thick onslaught of curses, but your voice quivers and it comes out as little more than a squeak.

He almost softens, but the edge in his stance never leaves him. He smacks your bottom again, this time upon the other side. "Is that it?" He says, and hits you again... and again. Your yelps become buried into the polished surface of the desk, slowly becoming moans ruminating with something like fear. Your legs begin to buckle, shaking at the continued abuse, and the fire on your skin stings against the cool air of the office. You lift your head up.

"Fuck," your breathing is heavy, but you push it out like it was a dying breath. "You."

Childe laughs, gripping a fistful of your tussled (h/c). He moves his other hand to your cheek, swiping it across quickly. As if on command, your face instinctively contorts to the pain. Furrowing your brows, you look over your shoulder at him, doing your best to muster whatever anger comes to the surface.

"Oh~ I just love it, (Y/N)." He says calmly, sliding his rough hands softly along the developing bruises on your behind. His palms, weathered from years of battles and scarring, felt soothing along your welted skin. You lean into his touch. It felt like your head was reeling from the intensity of his abuse.

He smiles, leaning into your back. The man's lips grace along your nape as he whispers, "You are so beautiful."

Your face flushes a hot shade of red as bright as Venus itself. As his hands work their way back to your loins from the front, you grind your behind perfectly against his arching beltline. He groans against you, silently grateful for the harmony that you had both found. It saved your from the pain, at least.

It doesn't take long for him to pull you off the desk and set you, practically toss you, onto your knees. He takes your place, leans coolly against the frame, pulling his belt out of their loops in one quick swipe. He places it beside himself before bending to grab your hands. Steadily, you unbutton his pants, hooking your fingers over the hem with caution. You take a timid peek up at him.

His eyes....

They're carnal. Such likeness to a beast, or any monster of any horrible, fearsome storybook you had been read as a child. It shakes you to your core and makes you tremble something fierce.

You swallow hard.

This was it.

Childe's slacks drop neatly around his ankles, coming to rest over his loafers; and his cock springs forth. It was quite beautiful, you thought, admiring the proud curve. You marvel at the fact that he hadn't worn any boxers underneath such thin fabric, but of course, you knew this already.

With a sharp inhale, you straighten up. You hesitantly glide your tongue along the underside of his member, watching his expression shift and waver as you rise to your knees. And at last, after mustering all your confidence, all at once you wrap your mouth around his head.

His blue eyes rolled up towards the ceiling as your tongue went to work, dulled with lust. You kept a delicate watch on his everchanging expression, loving the sight of his pleasure distorting the lined features in the bright, atmospheric lighting. His hands find their way to your hair and twist within the soft (h/c) locks. "Fuck," He sighs out, propping himself up on one elbow. He guides your head up and down, allowing you to set the pace, and lets another soft hum escape his lips. "Where have you been hiding, huh?"

You smile up at him, deviance in your gaze, but never separating your mouth from his twitching cock. It was a lot to take in, but you held your breath and pushed on. Slowly but surely, the entirety of his length filled your throat, rubbing eagerly against your tonsils. He huffs, holding you there steadily. Your tongue moves with pressure in super slow motions, and with determination to impress, your fingers remain tightly clenched around your thumbs within your small fists.

"Archons..." He finally sighs, before letting your head go. His breathing is weighted.

To your surprise, you didn't gag. Taking this as a sign, you go for it again... and again... and... again, until Tartaglia is aggressively pounding your mouth into submission. You feel the ridge of his head fucking the back of your throat, your jaw slowly adapting to the use. His large hands hold your head in place, one tangled in your hair and the other pressing against the bulge of your throat as he thrusts, pulling out until the tip of his dick slides against the front of your tongue and back in, your cute nose pushing up against his toned stomach; It fills the air with gargled, lewd noises, leaving only the echoes of your taut cheek smacking on his pale skin. Tears well up in your eyes, smearing the mascara that donned your eyelashes so perfectly once before.

You're a total wreck.

Spit trails thickly down your neck, dripping off your skilled tongue like a small waterfall. Your soft, obedient hands play along your exposed nipple and under your hiked skirt, dancing along the sopping wet folds. When Tartaglia meets your gaze, his aura is hungry. It was everything about the sight of you playing so casually with yourself, his hard cock down your tight little throat, and his hands tangled in your mess of hair that he couldn't wait to pull as he fucked you from behind... His mind was whirling with the possibilities as it always had been when he was around you. It was so hard to control himself.

Slowly sliding out of your mouth, he looks down at the mess he's made you. "I haven't even touched you yet~"

You don't speak, dropping your face just below his member. You eagerly trace your tongue around his sack before engulfing them in your wet mouth. He chuckles again, exasperated as he runs his fingers through your hair. "Show me what you do when you think of me."

Tartaglia's voice is gentle as he speaks to you, like a siren song. It pulls a spark from your heart, and you comply eagerly. He uses his foot to kick your thighs further apart. It's obvious he enjoys the view.

Childe simply watches you make a complete mess of yourself. Whenever you'd lean forward to take him once more in your mouth, he'd yank your head back to look him in the eyes; The whole thing was just... so enticing... but... The man only teased himself as he watched you play. Those handsome features not daring to betray a single emotion amidst his unbridled curiosity.

He inhales, much more like a growl at the sound of your eager moans. As soon as his name left your mouth, it was over.

"Up and over," He mutters, scooping you up from beneath your trembling arms. The Harbinger bends you over the desk once more. One of your legs is lifted onto the surface, and the other unstably supports your heaving form. Childe spits in his hand and rubs it along his cock. You watch, full of lust and a bit of terror, almost praying that he'd be gentle.

Though, and you knew this well about yourself, you wished alongside your feeble hope that he would wreck you, breeding you senseless right here in his office. The idea of him remembering that every time he came to work... Well, that just about did it, huh?

"Ready?"

After a curt node, you feel the pressure of his cock against your entrance and wince. The man's free hand reaches around your lifted thigh, snaking around to help spread you. Slowly but surely, he enters, adding globs of spit as he does.

The fullness took you by surprise. Your raised leg immediately drops to the floor. All at once, you fall forward, nails digging into the wood. Tartaglia doesn't move while you adjust. He watches your reaction, taking an immense amount of fiery pride in making you act like this-- like a primal beast in heat. He knew better than to hurt you now, so he let his idle hands explore your beautiful body. Across your smooth belly, up to your heaving chest, toying with each hard nipple, and up to your shoulders. He traces his fingers along the curves of your arms, coaxing your hands back to his, and interlocks them against the small of your back.

"Deep breath~" He coos, letting his weight rest on your back. You arch into him, trying your best not to wince when his hips push even further into you. Back out, and back in... Childe sets a slow, steady pace. Soon, you adjust completely and let yourself enjoy him. You take every inch like a champ, no longer feeling the heated sting.

He whispers, "Are you my good girl, (Y/N)?"

You moan out a futile affirmation, mind melting all around him. Tartaglia smiles softly, letting his desire flicker just for a moment in his predatory eyes. He straightens up, using his feet to spread your legs across the desk once again, and slaps your behind hard.

He slides almost all the way out, snaking his hand to meet yours again up at the small of your back. He held you down easily with only one hand. "Damn right you are." A sinister grin creeps up onto his lips. "And what do good girls want?"

You whimper it out softly, "I want you to fuck me."

"I'm sorry, you want what?" He mocks you, grasping a handful of your hair from the nape once more. "Say it louder."

"Please," You yelp as he tugs you back. The tip of his cock was right— there— and you felt so empty without it. You ached almost and pleaded with him in your tone. "Please fuck me!"

And with that, he slams his hips against your bare ass on repeat. Over... and over... Your mind begins to melt. You had imagined it for so long and yet he was here... better than you could have ever thought. Tartaglia's massive cock filled you with an intense heat that bubbled up like a witch's cauldron. It stopped being a concern about what they could hear outside the door or the spilt wine glass that stained the elaborately designed rug on the floor. Time melded altogether and left you without wanting in his beautiful office. You came and came... and again, just shaking before him like a small dog.

Childe moves to adjust himself and lifts you into his arms. You face him, showing him the barefaced mess he'd made you. Makeup and tears stretched down your flushed cheeks, and behind them, a harsh red line on your left cheek and forehead from where your face had pressed so firmly against the solid oak wood.

He positions himself again and enters you, this time with absolute ease. You felt welcome in his strong arms, allowing yourself to lean back a bit and toy with yourself. It didn't take long for that tension to build up again. Every movement he makes fills the air with a lewd set of noises, and your fingers play wildly against your terminally sensitive clit. You stare longingly up at him, made obedient by his bombardment. His tip slams into your cervix like a fighters' uppercut and sent spasms up your entire spine.

"Please--I'm so-- close-- daddy, please~!" You let your voice ring out, feeling drool spill over your bottom lip and onto the top of your exposed breasts.

Childe tilts his chin. "Daddy? Is that what you want to call me?"

You struggle on your words. Every inch of you feels full and hot, like a firework show is about to start. You whimper out your beggings, pleading, praying to this godlike man before you, in-between each deep thrust. "Yes-- please--"

"Oh, yeah?" The man laughs, holding you close to his chest. His hands secure you firmly. You let your arms snake around his shoulders. Your glistening forehead finds its place against his own sweating skin, breaths intertwining in an intimate dance. His voice is husky as he speaks; "Say it to me again and I'll make you a mommy."

A spark shoots through you and you grin wildly back at him. "Then," you growl, kissing and biting along his neck and up to his ear. "Breed me, daddy."

Without a second thought, Childe slams you into the nearest sofa chair. You bounce on the soft cushion, hearing a muffled thunk! as it scoots back on the rug below, and he begins again. One hand folds around your small neck while the other pushes your legs back above your head. As if on display, your bottom half raises above your flustered face. He felt so deep in your stomach that even your moans felt choked.

He still resembled such a rabid animal. From the bloodthirsty smirk adorning his lips to his stance as a beast before you, you recognized the fear growing again in your chest. Your vision is blurry from the tears in your eyes.

He slaps your ass with his free hand, squeezing tightly into the flesh. His movements get more sporadic as he goes, his thrusts more violent and deep. "Fuck," Childe groans, arching his body foreword. He presses his forehead to the top of the chair. "Shit~ I'm gonna..."

As you move your now freed hands to his rippled, scarred up sides, you feel his cock twitching inside you, unloading his hot cum deep into your core. Your voice was hoarse from the heavy breathing and seemed to scratch along your whimpers. You swallow hard, holding the heaving man as close to your as possible. Tartaglia half smiles when your legs wrap around his waist to keep him in place. There was so much... he knew he couldn't move for fear of passing out, and this small fact made the harbinger chuckle against the fabric of the couch. He had been bested by a normal girl from Liyue and for this, you had his respect.

After a few minutes, he pulls himself out of you and stands back, almost wavering as he does. His seed dripped thickly from your sex, trailing down your ass to become a thick puddle on the ground. Childe marvels at you with something soft and sweet in his eyes. You flush.

"C-can I have a um—" you begin, stuttering over your timid words, and sit yourself up just a bit. You try to angle your ass off the couch to avoid making an even bigger mess, but a part of you wondered if it even mattered at this point.

"A towel? Yeah, of course." He walks confidently around the desk before opening one of the drawers. He pulls out two handkerchiefs and wanders back over to you, beginning the cleaning process. His hands are gentle as he moves the fabric around your bottom, tenderly cleaning up the mess he made. After he finishes, he sets the soiled one aside and swaps for the clean rag to wipe the tears and snot from your delicate face. "You're beautiful, Miss (Y/N). Do you know that?"

Childe's hand presses against your cheek, holding your gaze with his. "Stay with me. Just for a bit before you go? I'd be honored to have your company."

You sigh, your heart smiling while you refused to show it on your face. "Yeah, sure, that'd be nice."

When you try to stand, your legs almost immediately give way, trembling and buckling with every movement. You hadn't realized how sore they were. Childe notices, you pulls you into his arms for support, matching your slow hobbling speed. He walks you to the further part of the office where the couches and bookshelves presented an immaculate study area and sits down first. A hand extends out to you, of which you take gracefully, and rest onto his lap. 

He holds you against him, allowing you to lay on his sturdy chest. He was warm and comfortable. It was funny that you miraculously felt safe now. But for a while, you almost forget what had brought you here. 

For now, you would rest.

[vindictusoverlord]

It’s a Jhin fic. Have fun degens👀

TW: depiction of murder, harsh language, sexual themes.

Kinky(?) stuff!: choking, orgasm denial, oral, slapping, biting, dirty talk(kinda).

Word count is 6,100. It’s a biggin.

God speed, soldier.

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"Ah," Jhin coos, relishing at the heavy thunk! of his last victim. Under his breath, he recites to himself; "My cacophony... the diminuendo... an opera of death... truly exquisite..."

It was all the musings of an inspired lunatic and it danced on his tone, bobbing delicately like a swan on the water, but it defined his chaotic nature entirely— he was a heretic of classical theatre.... Despite this, you had found that you were just like him, anyhow— twin flames sharing the same sick, perverted proclivities and an affinity to a dramatic bloodstained curtain call— it only made sense that you'd find yourselves wound up like this after another one of Jhin's flawless masterpieces. Such a remarkably stunning signature on a heap of corpses and all the while, Jhin stood untouched and unsullied before them. He blew the smoke off his pistol as he gazed below, sending a misplaced chair tumbling over with his foot to admire his handiwork.

"You've outdone yourself, Jhin," You removed your mask as you spoke, wiping off the splattered blood with a handkerchief, trying to alleviate his anger with your smile, and placing your palm on the small of his back. "Really, it was a beautiful performance."

The man holsters his weapons, spinning them with a certain theatrical flair as he does so, and adjusts the collar of his shirt. "It would have been different had you not been here," He says, tone heavy and dark like the narrator to a story, but the cadence hinted that he was pleased with your show tonight, even if he was horribly angry at the men below. "My art would be nothing if not for you."

"I hardly did anything at all. Please, save your flattery." You grin coyly, admonishing the false humility, but Jhin laughs anyways, seeming to accept that you were, in fact, just fine. Though he had always found it peculiar, he admired your consistent sense of dignity and grace on the battlefield. It was a recurring behavior that you displayed— that is, shifting all the credit of a smooth job to him— when it was truly you who set the whole gig up. But nonetheless, and despite his mixed opinions on the matter, Jhin knew it was best not to argue it, but rather to focus on the task at hand.

While you fish around the bodies for your throwing knives, Jhin turns away from his artwork to finish what you had both come all the way there for— an entire shipment of shimmer and the blueprints of an illegally built underground warehouse, as they all tended to be. The two of you slowly load up the truck with the heavy boxes of drugs, securing them down with tarp and straps, before making the two hour trip back to your client's base of operations.

While the driver careened down the interstate, you found yourself thinking about the choices you've made thus far. It felt as though it may have been getting old, working for chump change and constantly moving; always at the mercy of the dangerous political climate. On the other end, it seemed as though Jhin didn't much care for the result of a mission or why he was there in the first place, but rather focused his attention to the clean kills and the adrenaline rush he got from it. You felt somewhat similarly if you were honest, but the pay was important if you were both to stay alive and in hiding. As two of the most wanted criminals in Ionia, odd jobs like this were hard to come by and bounty hunters were plentiful. You took it upon yourself to be the eyes and ears while Jhin was better at talking and finessing, and between the two of you, your chemistry was undeniably successful. Had your doubts been even slightly mitigated by this success, though, perhaps you wouldn't be thinking so often of leaving with your resident maniac in tow.

Even when you handed over the documents to your temporary employer, listening to the excessive palaver while they unloaded the cargo, you felt confident and secure in your partnership with Jhin the Virtuoso, and he felt the same in you. Rarely did he come to trust anyone. But you... well, you had an electricity to you. A particular kind of panache. The first of its kind to catch and hold the killer's eye, and likely the last. Jhin had great plans for you as his partner in both crime and in love, and he endlessly daydreamed about those deviant fantasies of ruthless killing and depraved splendor upon a bed of thorns and gold. Frequent dreams of staining the goose down duvet with the bloody theatrics of your trophies and images of your exquisite countenance twisting with prodigious ecstasy blinded him— oh!, indeed, all of that he wished to share with you alone. Jhin had a plethora of scenes he wished to enact with his beautiful accomplice, and as you sat beside him, absently tapping your pretty fingers on your leg, he had half a mind to show you those perversions right now—

"Jhin," You snap in front of his face. "Are you okay?"

He inhales sharply. He hasn't even realized the two of you had finished up so quickly, let alone that you were already home. Jhin's thoughts consumed him, inspired by the way you peered over at him with those deep (e/c) eyes full of curiosity.

"Yes," he says, confidence oozing off of him. "I'm fine. Let's get this going, shall we?" It was so frustrating to be pulled out of such a tantalizing spectacle, but he begrudgingly lets the thoughts drift to the back of his dirty mind, nodding his acknowledgement at you before following your lead out of the vehicle.

As you said your goodbyes and shook hands with the driver, Jhin's eyes wandered to your plump behind. He gave his farewells as well, of course, but as they parted ways and you began your steady march just a short pace ahead, Jhin returned his ardent stare. As quickly as they had been suppressed just moments before, the debauched musings collided with him once again as they had for the last few hours. He counted the steps until the two of you entered your temporary home, timing them just perfectly with the clicking of your rubicund heels. Soon.... He thought, I'll give her a show of a lifetime... another timeless masterpiece for the ages...

You felt Jhin's heavy gaze on you, prickling your skin into a subtle shiver. It was often that you pondered whatever spiraled about in his warped mind, but his disassociation didn't phase you much more than peaking your endless curiosity for this man's inner machinations. Even as you fumble with the key, you can't shake the feeling that something was wrong with Jhin, as he had been a bit off since you had announced the recent contract to him. He had an innate sense for those kind of things, so it left you on edge to know that even he was skeptical.

But for now, you'd enjoy each others company in the warmth of your humble home. Nothing else mattered for the next few days while you both rested, restocked, and recouped.

As the heavy door opens up, you enter the room, allowing yourself to finally unwind as Jhin struts past you. After sliding off his shoes, he sets his things down while you close and lock the heavy door, making your way quickly to the large restroom. You were caked with blood and dirt and, seeing as though you were both germaphobes, you couldn't wait to wash the filth down the drain.

"(Y/N), my dear," The man says. "Might I join you for a moment?"

"To wash up?"

"Don't play dumb," Jhin finally removes his mask, setting it carefully alongside his personal items. "To admire. I'll wash up later in the evening."

"Of course," Despite your perceived confidence, your heart slipped into a new gear. He nodded to your acceptance of his request with a smile, staying behind to allow you a moment to fill the tub, but never taking his eyes off of you as you stripped away the soiled fabric, tossing your mask and cloak into the laundry hamper.

He adored your figure, tracing every inch in his minds eye, even if he'd seen it bare many times before. It never ceased to leave him speechless. His feelings had been confounded to an infinitely constricting noose around a proverbial neck, and as you peeked over your shoulder and sweetly smiled at the killer, Jhin felt it tighten even further.

The hot water felt nice on your submerging body. You hadn't realized how sore you were from the scuffle earlier in the day, and having almost been killed this morning left a sour taste in your mouth. Unseen cuts and bruises stung while you sank slowly into the tub, suppressing a grimace as you come to rest at the bottom of the deep basin, enjoying the bubbles that rose up to your neck and surrounded you. Jhin enters the room shortly after, a glass of wine in both hands, and takes a seat on the side of the tub. He passes one to you, a grin curling his top lip.

"To a job well done," The man taps his glass against yours, savoring the sweet wine as he sips from the rim, humming a song to himself as he rises back to his feet. You simply relax back in the tub, scrubbing down your skin with a washcloth and enjoying the rich tone of Jhin's voice. You sit in silence for a while, simply enjoying one another's company while he sings to you, and before long, he speaks up again.

"Do you have anything else in store for us this upcoming week?" Jhin asks, leaning against the sink counter, amusing himself while you bathe. An air of insouciance lingered about his contemplation as he did so, eyes glittering with childlike mischief.

"Hmmm," You mull it over as you rinse your hair out, brushing through the tangles with your fingers. "Not that I'm aware of." Having finished, you rise up from the tub, bend over to pull the drain, and wring your hair out with the plush towel.

Jhin curls his lip upward. "Lovely. Then I'll have you all to myself."

"Oh, you have plans, do you?"

He says nothing, rather letting his silence speak for him as the glass finds its place onto the countertop. He watches you from start to finish, enamored by the seemingly menial task of drying yourself down. You hang up the towel, your hair still leaving little droplets along your skin, before sauntering carefully towards him.

"You know," Your voice is a soft purr as it comes out, calm and collected. "I'm really quite fond you, Khada Jhin. You do know that, don't you?" Your fingers run up his dress shirt, the fabric still pressed firm and starkly clean, from sternum up to around his shoulders, intertwining yourself into his warm embrace. His cologne was decadent and made you feel love-drunk, the floral musk driving your mind to dangerous places.

"But of course I know." He coos. "I am the luckiest man alive, after all."

You rise to your toes and place your lips softly against the crook of the man's neck, briefly sinking your teeth into the flesh before moving on to another, lower spot. Jhin hums his pleasantry, acquiescing to your painful leisure, and tightens his grip on the edge of the counter.

You enjoyed his white-knuckling— the way he held back and bit his silver tongue; how he melted into you like wax; when his lips parted and he sighed, the air thick with tension... You continued down, showing him just how much you loved him; gradually unbuttoning his collar, loosening the tie, and then the placket. You left neat kisses along his pale, scarred skin, raising goosebumps along the surface. Jhin releases a careful hand to caresses your cheek, desire apparent in his focused eyes. His lips twitch when he lifted your chin up with only his forefinger, forming something of a crooked smirk. His normal tepid expression, characterized only by the mask he wore to disguise his heart, was replaced by a sense of passion and, hidden behind his gaze, an exhausted restraint.

Jhin nudges your nose with his own, softy falling into your lips. His breath tasted of wine, bittersweet and boozy, but his touch was soft and deliberate. You melted against him, submitting to your yearning, but Jhin remained surprised nonetheless. You ruled him, every part of him— you, the deliverer of divine retribution to his physical and spiritual being; the one that took his life into your hands— and his soul flickered and faded with every touch, lingering on the timbre of everything you said, just as your tongues did. They mimicked a decadent crescendo until you both needed a breath, stealing the oxygen from one another like it would suffocate you to disconnect for even a moment. And like comets, you were destined to meet again, and so you did, with his hands pressed onto your waist and hips and one your own against his chest, the other making its way down to the bulge in his slacks.

And you both fell back into the other.

The tide of idolatry was all consuming. As Jhin kissed you, it felt as thought you were ascending— almost like falling upwards through the clouds— as you fell deeper in love with the maniac. Just like the first time you had shared a kiss, you felt the distinct shock through your core every time since then. Those rampant butterflies that almost made you nauseous, the furious beating of your heart, and the dizziness that fogged your mind kept you going back for more. Endlessly craving more.

As if he read your thoughts, a slender hand wrapped around your neck and you hummed into his embrace. Jhin pulls away after a moment, his lips grazing against yours, and following instinct, you lean forward, longing for all of him. His other hand, breaking away from your hip, pulls his belt out of the loops and slides behind the waistband of his trousers. Jhin unbuttons them with a simple flick of his thumb and forefinger, letting you to unzip them yourself, and then returns his hands to the countertop. You drop to a squat before running your fingers along his waist band, lingering on each peck you give his abdomen. Jhin watches intently, seemingly mesmerized by your finesse, and, almost as if he forgot how to breathe, his exhales hitch on an absent thought with every breath he takes in.

You slowly drag the smooth fabric from his slender hips, biting softly onto one side of his undergarments and tugging with your hand on the other, only closing your eyes when you return upwards to leave a trail with your lips along his prominent pelvis bones. His member softly presses against the side of your face as you led your kisses to the base, lingering there for a moment to take in his warmth and the scent of his cologne. Mesmerized by his simple beauty, you peer up at him, relishing the sight of his vulnerability as if it were a drug.

"I've been thinking about you— this— all day," Jhin whispers. The light catches his face in a way that accentuates the sharpness of his features and softness of his skin. He was, by most accounts, a very average looking man, only his demeanor setting him apart from the crowd. He was fairly inconspicuous without his mask, though he hated to be without it, but his almond shaped brown eyes held a certain frigidity and authority-- a professionalism, almost-- and his skin was no longer pallid as it had been when you had met. The honey colored warmth in his gaze captured light and turned it auburn like muted fire or an endless horizon— simply full of life.

You bat your eyes at him, feigning innocence. His confidence faltered when you did that, staring up at him through those pretty eyelashes, eyes wide and full of wonder. The way your gaze gleamed with mischief made him let out a nervous chuckle, one that made his cock twitch with anticipation.

"Just sit back, my love." Making eye contact, you let your tongue drag along the underside of his cock to the tip, amusing yourself with the subtle twitch of his hooded eyelids. "Let me take care of you."

He always acted like it was the first time you touched him, as if it was the stars and sky falling right above him in a perpetual performance. Jhin, who put out an air of arrogance and wise experience, was simply a man after all. And every man had a weakness.

Jhin bit his bottom lip as your tongue twirled around the head and ever... so... slowly... inched down as if to absorb him in his own pleasure. Your lips wrapped delicately around your teeth to protect his flesh as you moved forward, flexing outward as you gradually pulled back, creating a suction that forced a soft moan from your fragile lover.

You, the kind woman that you were, took your time building up your tempo, enjoying the soft grunts Jhin elicits, and begin to glide your hands up his thighs. Your fingers softly prod around his package, wrapping around to cup his balls as the tip of his shaft passes down your throat. You hold it there for a few moments before shifting back, returning to your original tempo, but this time, you go all the way down to his belly, grazing his happy trail with your nose. Jhin lets out a sigh, instinctively twisting his fingers in your wet hair. He knew he was at your mercy by the way you moved your tongue so expertly and pulled those degrading noises out of him. It was as if your intention had been solely to devour him soul first. Unbeknownst to you, had that kind of unity been an option, Jhin would gladly let you.

The churning knot built up quickly in the pit of his stomach, raising a pressure below that made it hard to breathe out against his soft moans. The dirty gargling noises that erupted from your throat had him biting his lip far too hard, his head thrown back to whisper his pleadings with the gods, and somehow even through all the pleasure, he softly thanked them, too.

You wrapped your free hand around the remaining length of his cock, pumping back-and-forth in unison with your mouth, capturing it all within the depths of your greedy throat. None of him would go untouched, unloved, or ungrateful, and you were going to make sure of that. You would love all of him down to the molecules of his very being until the day he died.

And as you took all of him in, pressing your nose against his belly over and over, Jhin bit down on the sleeve of his shirt. It had begun to slip off his shoulders, the sleeves just long enough for him to try to suppress his raunchy melody within the fabric. But his legs began to buckle, his arms flung back to the countertop to keep him from falling, and your momentum didn't stop. You kept it up, eyes closed to bring forth your earned prize, and the sheer thought of you forced the man to utterly submit to your presence. You could feel the flexing of his restraint on your tongue as he held back as strongly as he was able to, but before long, Jhin would meet his limit.

The man leans forward ever so slightly as he snakes his hand around your throat once again. His fingers tread lightly along your skin as they wrap around it, pressing into the flesh. His breath hitches as he feels the girth of his cock sliding down, and out, and back again, amazing himself by how well you could take in his length.

"Oh, fuck..." he murmurs, tightening his grip in your (h/c) locks. "How do you... do that?" Jhin hums as he struggles to pull you off of him, eyes dull and weak as if he was simply a puppet and you were the marionette. You noticed a string of spit hung from your lip to the tip of his curved dick, licking your lips seductively up at his bewilderment.

"No more?" You ask, obediently placing one hand in your lap to play with yourself.

He chuckles— exasperated— eyes flickering between the placements of your hands. "Look what you do to me... it's simply... not fair." He spoke quietly between labored breaths, meekly gesturing at his cock now drooling with pre-cum. His hand finds its place there, long, slender fingers dividing to hold his flesh at the base, accentuating the curve.

"Fairness is a construct," You move closer to his proud member, making eye contact with him as you plant kisses along the his hip bones and his stomach, holding onto his hip with one hand to keep him in place. "If life was fair to all of us, we wouldn't be on the run. And we," You gaze up at him, deviance dancing like demons across your expression, haunting your erotic smile. "Could do whatever we wanted."

Jhin shudders at the sight of you below him, toying with your pussy as his cock stood erect against your flushed cheek. He enjoyed the chase you presented his way as if you were a mouthy slave to his wishes, your sexual deviancy a lure to reel him into a whirlwind of eroticism.

His fingers brush gently through your hair, smoothing out the chaos he had made in it just moments before. "Stand up for me, my rose," Jhin coos, his words flowing off his tongue like poetry. "I think it's your turn, now."

With a quick nod, enticed by his intent, you rise to your feet and take Jhin's offered chivalry. He places your wet fingers onto his tongue, locking eyes with you as he closes his lips around them. His tongue swiped off your juices, delicately dancing along each of the two fingers as he cleaned them up. You couldn't help but sigh, a mewl following shortly after, when you slowly pull your fingers back out. His seduction worked every time, and the image of his face buried between your legs, squished by your thighs until he struggled to breathe... but that intense climax would be worth anything.

"Ready?" He asks.

Baffled, you simply nod.

He leads you to the neat and organized bedroom, shirking off his white dress shirt along the way. He turns and captures you within his arms, positively bursting with passionate affection. You couldn't help but giggle as he did so, becoming ensnared in yet another embrace of his lips. The man slowly walks you back to the bed, never once breaking the contact when he lifts you up onto the mattress. His tall form looms over you, and those same kisses become sloppier as he makes his way down your body.

You feel his slender fingers graze against your skin, down from your shoulders to your breasts. His large palms cup underneath, one hand pressing softly against your hardened nipple, while his tongue plays on the other. Jhin's eyes are closed as he just slightly touches his bottom teeth against the sensitive skin. You grip the duvet under you, trying desperately to hold back the electricity that flowed through you. You could feel the small smile he let slip out, his adoration peeking out through his long, dark eyelashes, and he continues moving down.

The way his hands felt on your skin stirred goosebumps on your skin. They were calloused on his fingertips— a signature sign of a musician— but the smooth palms kept an arch to them that applied just the right pressure as he touched you. As his hands slid slowly past your hips and down to your thighs, he allows his thumbs to just barely brush against your sex while he works his kisses downwards. Before long, Jhin has you wriggling in his arms while he teases you, hushed gasps escaping as you squirm. You prop yourself up on your elbows, pouting your lips and furrowing your brow in protest.

His eyes are narrow, thinned with tension, and he takes it as his sign to brush his lips gently against your heated sex. The man's tongue softly slips from his lips, making a small circle before he kisses your womanhood again. He flattens it out, carefully watching your expression as he goes to work, twirling and flicking in an improvisational dance that landed every move. He kept a consistent pressure and suction on your clit as he always did, skill simply unmatched, volleying the flatness and extending the length of his tongue.

Jhin presses his palm into your lower stomach, sinking it in and holding it there. While he does, his free hand slides his index and middle fingers along your opening, coating them both with a mixture of your juices and his saliva before slowly— oh, so slowly— inserting them into you. He allows you to acclimate, always having loved the tightness and the way you gripped his fingers, humming his praise into your sex.

You let out a soft moan, something more akin to a drawn out, breathy "fuck!", as his long fingers curl upwards, seeming to beckoning you from within. The pads of his fingertips firmly tapped against the spongey part of your sex, curving in and out with a leisurely pace. It felt as though he was coaxing your heartbeat, and it seemed to follow without much hesitation. It descended through your chest, making friends with the butterflies, as it found its home there amidst them. Your breathy moans matched the thudding, decadently rising in pitch as Jhin pushed and pulled his fingers. The pressure built up quickly and formed a fiery heat that began taking root within your depths.

Jhin, of course, knew what you liked and he knew it well, only slightly picking up his pace once your body had flexed, then relaxed and slowed down-- and when it tensed again, he repeated this process, counting to four in his mind to keep a consistent pace.

"Jhin, please..." You beg, a pathetic expression clear as daylight on your face. "I want you—"

He smiles, not stopping his pace and replacing his tongue with the padding of his thumb, swirling it in quick circles, as he speaks. "I know," he croons, melodic in his tone and ever so satisfied with your reactions. It almost sounded like he was placating you, begging for your orgasm as if he wanted nothing more than your body contorting against him.

"I'd like you to cum for me first. Will you do that, my love?" Jhin whispers.

"Yes," You nod weakly, unable to hold from setting your head back down on the duvet. "...sir."

He smiles, going back between your legs with the same fervor. "That's my good girl."

Naturally, you lay back and bring your hands up to fondle your breasts, squeezing the buds softly as you begin to cross over the brink. It takes a few more minutes as you ride your hips into him, taking greedy steps towards the edge as tears formed in your eyes and your thighs cramp from the shaking. Jhin throws his arm over your leg, using a part of the weight of his body on the other to keep them separated and to hold you still as you slip into bliss.

He wouldn't stop until your mind was numb and empty, until your eyes rolled back and your body twitched uncontrollably, letting a pool of drool hang by your cheek. Jhin couldn't hold back from that kind of torture. It was, for him, another pure form of art he performed only for you. And while you lay there squirming, your sweet voice filled the room with a music he could hear every day, all day, for the rest of his natural life.

Your head was spinning, face hot and slack. Your climax had you in a chokehold, lasting longer than you had expected it to. The white hot heat that took over you seared your skin like a brand, marking you forever as Jhin's.

"My sweet girl," Jhin licks his lips, crawling on top of you. "You are so beautiful like this." He positions your legs on either side of himself, cupping your cheek as he kisses your trembling lips, his tongue tracing the soft flesh before he dives back into your embrace. You taste yourself on his breath— the tangy sweetness of your love made you sweat— and you wrap your arms around his shoulders tightly, afraid to let go.

Jhin positions himself at your entrance, tracing his length over your sex before he poses to enter, kissing your forehead before he does so. "Do you want it, my darling?" He hums sweetly, just mere inches from your ear.

"Always," You whimper, barely able to bring yourself to say much else. The fog of his presence held your mind in a bird cage, and it was a helpless, thrashing creature all the while. "Please."

Gradually, he pushes himself in, lowering the tip of his cock into you with his thumb, bringing his hips closer to meet yours. You inhale as his length enters you, the fullness making your breath hitch. You were still so terribly sensitive, arching your back to feel it all— as Jhin gently began to rock his hips, your hands instinctively press against his bare chest. Your fingers traced carefully over his scars, letting them take their place on his collarbone.

"You're doing so well." Jhin's voice is gruff, his kisses dotting your neck and forehead as he speaks. The man brushes the hair from your face, mild and deliberate as he makes his way through the routine. He treated you as if you were a delicate flower on the cusp of a spring bloom, pressing his forehead to yours, clearly relishing in the meek mewls he was able to earn as he picked up his pace.

Jhin pulls back, scooping your legs up onto his left shoulder and straightening his back. He looks so tall and overpowering here, the coldness in his gaze still lingering amidst his dark stare. You couldn't completely take away the sadistic side of the killer, but you loved to see his aggression every now and then.

He picks up his pace, pumping in and out, every move calculated, breaths intertwined as he gazes lazily down at you. He filled you perfectly, the curve of his cock greeting your depths. It was almost as though he could read your mind; the way Jhin's fingers snake in between your thighs while he moves matched your thoughts. He makes quick movements, deliberately toying with you with a fiery fixation on the way your expression contorts.

The man watched as your eyes rolled behind your eyelids, lip quivering against your labored breathing, and he just loved the way you used your hands against the mattress to push yourself back against him. He loved the curves of your body, decorated with your numerous scars. They were a sign of a warrior, uncontested through your countless battles, and while he imbibed your intoxicating aura, you grew ever louder as his pace picked up. The aggression turned primal when his fingers grazed your neck, the melody of skin-to-skin impact filling the thick air. His manicured nails just barely scratch the skin, sending ripples of goosebumps across your body. A crooked, sadistic smile seems to crack across his face, and without any warning, Jhin sends a hearty smack! against your bottom.

And gradually, he slows down to an agonizing pace. He gyrates his hips ever so slightly before moving his callused palms over the length of your body. You sigh out your grievances, something of a mixed bag of pleasure and annoyance, and his brows furrow. Jhin's face shifts, once something so perverse and barbarous, to the warmth of a hearth, or the color of yellow daisies. He was gracious and charming, like the story books would say, but his tone-- a gruffness in his voice-- was the stark opposite.

He leans over, the fingers of one hand clasped on your neck and softly tapping in succession, and whispers, "Who do you belong to?"

"Only you." You murmur it back, only just barely audible, but he smiles as he releases you.

"Show me,"

And so you adjust yourself, slowly making your way to the edge of the bed. Jhin sits down, surveying your every move, but one leg after the other, you lower yourself onto his lap. He holds you, chest to chest, covered in a sheen of sweat. Your breathing was discordant, a tribute to the wild look in your eyes. His, however, were heavy. They were shrouded in ambiguity, a darkness lurking just beneath, and when his lip twitched at the left corner, the air pulled taught once again. Tension could be cut with a knife... But this, well, perhaps not even a bullet could pierce through.

Your stomach churned. All the while, your heartbeat sped up. The man before you was unequivocally methodical about everything he did, even when he brushed the hair from your face and tucked it behind your ear. Without much control, your body squirmed at his touch, much like the shaking of leaves in a breeze. It was a shudder that washed away reality-- one that swept away all of the stress of life. Here in Jhin's presence, you felt as though the moon wasn't so far away. That maybe, just maybe, you could touch the dust upon its surface.

Jhin allowed you to lower yourself onto him, slowly rising and falling as the tide. His broad palms spread out against your bottom, lifting ever so slightly while you move, and his lips... They leave a trail along your shoulder, down to your collarbone, and... back up your neck. The man softly bites into your skin, a groan departing from the floor of his diaphragm.

That guttural noise... so primal and inviting... it always provoked something of a beast within you. A devil that yearned for submission.

Jhin hadn't expected you to push him back so roughly, but his eyes trailed your body as you sat up straight and dug your nails across his bare chest. He didn't react much aside from that and preferred to observe. He loved your lust for power and the way you took what you wanted. It was so aligned with his own methods, and initially what drew him to you, so with every movement and shaky breath that left your chest, he, too, rose to that peak of pleasure. It started in his throat, down to his lungs and all the way to his palms, closing in on his innards, and the to his toes. It consumed him in the same way it consumed you.

He came before you this final time, whimpering so, so very softly, but the moment felt like forever and nothing all the same, like the world was stuck in a volleying limbo. You let your hands drop beside his head, reveling in the quivering darkness hazing your thoughts. It was an absolute wash of warmth that drowned you out like a monsoon— the way Jhin held you in his arms as you both shivered, moving your hips ever so slowly in mesmerizing circles to capture his essence within you.

Tepid fingers twisted together behind his head, absently fiddling with the ring that adorned your left hand, and mind clear... absolved, almost. The man hugged you tightly against his chest, his complexion dewy, heart beats colliding in unison. You sigh outward, satisfied and relaxed, and that feeling of butterflies returned, rushing through your core to make you hum your satisfaction to your lover.

"You inspire me." Jhin croons, so soft and calm as he pants, and runs his fingers across the edge of your jaw. He was riding the bliss of his orgasm, floating high amidst the clouds.

You breathe in the romance, exhaling when you meet his lips once more. "And you..."

He smiles and your heart flutters.

"Complete me."