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A little more than kin, and less than kind

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He should be used to this already, their usual ritual: every couple dozen years the motherfucker would storm his base, decimate his lackeys with extreme prejudice and proceed to kick the ever living shit out of Qi Rong. He’d resist every time and try to disengage from Hua Cheng as soon as possible (he stopped trying to actually fight back after the fucking asshole broke basically every single bone in his body the first couple times he tried to), but all Crimson Rain does is smirk in derision and slam his face so hard into the ground he’ll be seeing stars the next century over. 

 

This time is no different.

 

As Qi Rong struggles to maintain his consciousness, Hua Cheng swiftly binds him with some sort of magical ghost-binding rope he procured fuck-knows-where and proceeds to drag Qi Rong, bloody and kicking, back into one of his properties in Ghost City. 


As per usual, Hua Cheng hands him over to some of his servants who are leering a snickering at Qi Rong’s sorry form.

 

“Make sure to wash all of the shit off of him,” Hua Cheng instructs them with a lazy voice. “I don’t want to catch anything.”

 

The idiots leer and laugh crudely, not knowing that their ultimate fate, like their predecessors’ the last time this happened (and all the times before that) is to be disposed of once they’re done with their task. Hua Cheng always makes sure to get rid of any evidence. To what end, Qi Rong hasn’t a single fucking clue.

 

He yells profanities at all of them, cursing their mothers and grandmothers and the rest of their extended families but to no avail; they kick him around some more after which he is stripped of the bloody tatters of his green robes ( Hua Cheng should really start reimbursing him for those, every single fucking time-- ) and thrown unceremoniously into a large wooden washing tub, where he is scrubbed roughly by two lizard headed creatures who keep hissing at him whenever he tries (and consequently fails) to escape their gross clutches. They don’t dare stare at him too closely, however; food or entertainment, none dare covet the demon king’s possessions.

 

And that’s what he is at the moment; furthest from being a guest, closest to resembling a soggy snack. He doesn’t doubt that Hua Cheng, the motherfucker, would feed parts of him to his goons if he gave him too much crap. Qi Rong shudders as some unbidden memories cross his mind. 

 

Having been scrubbed raw and pink, he is given a small vile by one of the lizardmen who don’t seem too keen on asking too many questions- which is a blessing, really, because Qi Rong absolutely does not want to start explaining that particular aspect of his current predicament to his captors. He bites back the instinct to start brawling with the servants, knowing the ultimate consequences would be more of them kicking him around and an incredibly sore ass that he really isn’t too keen on adding to the list of his pending injuries.

 

After he is deemed clean enough, he is pulled roughly out of the tub, completely naked, and given to one of the other servants who looks like a human woman. She looks him once over and proceeds to pull out a long, coarse-looking red rope. Qi Rong’s already pale face loses more of its color, becoming even more tinged with green than usual.

 

They haven’t done this in a while--Although Qi Rong makes a racket every time, they both know he isn’t strong enough to fight Hua Cheng for real. Instead, he spits in the woman’s face as she nears him and is rewarded by a kick to the back of his head by one of the servants who twists his arms roughly behind his back and yells at him to stop moving around. 

 

The woman ignores his messy protests and begins to efficiently secure the rope around his body, wrapping the silky cords first around his shoulders and chest, fingers clever and quick as the rope brushes uncomfortably against his nipples. She twists and braids the cords around each other, creating an intricate pattern around his navel and stomach, gesturing one of the men behind him to hold his arms tightly as she moves to wrap it around his dick and balls, pulling it to loop behind him to loop around the rope hanging at his back. Finally, she ties the rest of the rope around his arms in neat circles that end up around his wrists, binding them with just enough strength to make sure he won’t be able to easily loosen them.

 

She turns to the lizardmen and tells them, “bring him to his excellency.” before turning around to help the other servants clean up the mess Qi Rong made in the room as they dragged him in.

 

Qi Rong twists to scowl at her even as the rope scrapes painfully around his shoulders and arms. “I hope you rot in this filthy purgatory for eternity, you ugly wench,” he spits.

 

The woman doesn’t even spare Qi Rong a look as she grabs a nearby mop. “Better than the fate that awaits you,” she murmurs and proceeds to mop away his blood off the floor.

 

As Qi Rong begins to retort, a deathly silence suddenly envelops the room. Before he even has the time to look up, a graceful hand grabs his chin and harshly yanks him to the side. He flinches and tries to move his head away but sharp nails dig into his face and he ceases his movements, instead glaring up at Hua Cheng’s stupid smiling face.

 

“You’re terribly chipper today.” he mocks, thumb dragging over Qi Rong’s pale lips. He looks as calm and composed as his reputation makes him out to be, but Qi Rong knows better; He gazes at Qi Rong with unabashed hunger, pupils blown wide at the sight of Qi Rong’s still wet, naked body bound in those damned ropes. He easily slings Qi Rong over one shoulder and nods at the human female, who nods back. As he turns to leave, Qi Rong witnesses the female ghost shapeshift into a black cloud and start slaughtering the horrified lizardmen. They all scream in sheer terror, begging their king for mercy. Qi Rong would be more inclined to bask in their misery if he wasn’t too busy thinking about what fate had in store for himself.

 

One minute later he is dropped head-first onto a rough stone floor, a coarse boot stepping on his back in a classic Ghost King Power Move.  Qi Rong starts struggling in his bindings, attempting to loosen anything, really, but then immediately yelps in pain as Hua Cheng drives his boot down harder on his back.

 

“You look like a gutted fish,” Hue Cheng says, voice almost bored. He prods at the knots binding Qi Rong’s back with the heel of his boot, letting out a satisfied hum when they fail to unwind. “Maybe I should give you a head’s up the next time so you can save me the trouble of disinfecting you myself.”

 

Qi Rong cringes at ‘ the next time ’. This shit’s been going on for a couple hundred years now; at first Qi Rong resisted violently, demanding to know what the fuck Hua Cheng wanted from him. The guy could potentially fuck anyone in Ghost City he wanted to, so why the fuck did he have to kidnap Qi Rong whom he clearly despised?? 

 

Qi Rong eventually stopped asking as Hua Cheng’s answer was the same every single time; he’d stare at Qi Rong’s face with a terrible expression on his face and bluntly say “I really hate your face.” Qi Rong had no fucking idea what that had to do with anything, but there he was, for the nth time, face down and foot up his ass, waiting to get railed by his arch nemesis. 

 

Qi Rong blanches. “I hope your dick falls off and gets eaten by wolves,” he spat angrily, starting to struggle again against the ropes. All that earned him was a dry laugh from above and chafed, well, everything. 

 

He could feel Hua Cheng smiling cockily (the bastard) above him. 

 

“Lucky for you, you’ll be seeing a lot of it tonight.” he says, unabashed, and proceeds to demonstrate to Qi Rong exactly just how much of said dick he'd be seeing that night.  

 

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A few hours later find Qi Rong gasping for unnecessary breath as he rides Hue Cheng’s face, strong hands digging into his cheeks and holding his ass open. Hua Cheng’s definitely longer than normal tongue nudges deeper into his soaked ass, making him tremble uncontrollably, legs straining to hold his weight up so he doesn’t fall face first onto Hua Cheng’s dick.

 

He stopped cursing a while ago, now only able to pant and moan pathetically at the savage ass-eating he’s getting from the person who supposedly hates him most in the world. For the past couple of hours Hua Cheng has been feasting on his ass like he was trying to win some sort of prize. As a way to shut Qi Rong up, it was definitely more efficient than most.

 

Qi Rong whines as he tries to move his hips away from (or was it in the direction of?) Hua Cheng’s face but to no avail as his hips gripped in an iron hold that clearly states this isn’t for your pleasure . Hua Cheng has always been fixated on his ass, fucking Qi Rong for hours with his cock and fingers until he felt his hole would never close again. Hua Cheng really had absolutely no regard to what state he left Qi Rong in after one of their trysts.

 

“N-no more…” Qi Rong moans desperately, toes digging into the floor on both sides of Hua Cheng’s face. His ass feels too loose, too wet, he can’t focus on anything over the white noise that’s thundering in his ears. 

 

He feels a vibration of laughter practically inside his ass as Hua Cheng pulls his tongue out to lick around the puffy rim of Qi Rong’s entrance. Instead of replying (or heaven forbid, letting him go already), two fingers are roughly shoved inside of him and start rhythmically pushing against his walls, fingertips grazing teasingly against the spot inside of him that makes him gasp, cock dripping precome down his thighs. 

 

He’s been licked and fingered open for the past who-knows-how-many hours without being allowed to cum and he feels his dick twitch pathetically against the bindings. 

 

“Y, you motherfucker, just l-let me…” he whispers, voice ruined from hours of screaming into the void, lamenting briefly that he couldn’t suffocate Hua Cheng to death with his ass.

 

The only recognition he gets is in the form of Hua Cheng’s tongue returning to lick him open while his fingers thrust harder inside his wet passage. A guttural sound is ripped from his throat, body desperately twisting in the red rope that binds him, chafing deliciously against his stimulated nipples and rock-hard dick. Qi Rong feels like he could pass out at any moment and a spark of arousal flashes in his body when he thinks that Hua Cheng would probably keep going anyway.

 

Qi Rong almost cries in joy as both Hua Cheng’s tongue and fingers leave his ass, only to yelp as his body is lifted off of Hua Cheng’s face and pushed on the floor again face down. He groans and rubs his overheated body as much as he can on the cold floor. He can hear Hua Cheng laughing mirthlessly above him but is too delirious to make any snide remarks about it.

 

“Are you… done…” Qi Rong pants half into the floor although he knows Hua Cheng definitely isn’t finished using his body yet. 

Hua Cheng says nothing, instead grabs his hips and pulls them up so that Qi Rong’s feet are scrambling to find a stable footing. He positions his dick in Qi Rong’s entrance and ruthlessly shoves his cock into Qi Rong’s ass.

 

Qi Rong can only moan desperately into the floor at the familiar sensation of Hua Cheng’s dick pounding into his ass over and over again. Hua Cheng’s hands pry his legs even wider and he sets a ruthless rhythm, using Qi Rong’s ass like a sleeve made specifically for his cock. Qi Rong feels his breath being fucked out of him, drooling into the floor and mumbling incoherently as Hua Cheng’s cock pushes wildly against his prostate. He’s so close, but he knows Hua Cheng won’t let him finish quite so soon.

 

After what feels like hours (it probably has been), Hua Cheng’s rhythm turns erratic and the usually stoic man lets out a quiet grunt. As Hua Cheng grabs Qi Rong’s ass tighter he knows that he’s going to have hand-shape prints all over his body the next day.

 

The pounding in his ass turns wilder, harder, teetering on the edge between pain and pleasure that last a few more minutes before he feels his ass become filled with Hua Cheng’s hot cum. There’s so much of it, too much, that it drips out of him where Hua Cheng’s cock is plugging him and down his thighs, soaking him completely with Hua Cheng’s cum. 

 

Panting violently, Qi Rong hisses as Hua Cheng pulls out of him, cum spilling out in thick globs all over Qi Rong’s ass and thighs. His face is covered with tears and his own drool, and for a few moments he savors the feeling of his ass being completely ruined before he feels Hua Cheng’s hands on his thighs once more.

 

“No more…” he moans pitifully, not caring about maintaining his lofty image at this point, only wishing he could go to sleep or be allowed to cum or anything, really, just let him out of those fucking bonds. Instead, he feels his body being pulled up into a sitting position, his ass positioned over Hua Cheng’s dick. 

 

Qi Rong shrieks as Hua Cheng shoves his cock back inside his ass and starts moving again. He feels Hua Cheng’s breath against his ear, hot and humid as he huffs a laugh. Qi Rong wants to ask what’s so funny but the only thing coming out of his mouth at this point is mumbled nonsense. His brain is too scrambled to notice what ( who) exactly he’s calling to at this point, but suddenly he feels Hua Cheng stiffening under him (and this time it’s not only his dick).

 

A large, callous hand comes to seize his throat hard and Qi Rong finds himself unable to even let out miserable little gasps. The next time Hua Cheng speaks, all traces of humor have been erased from his voice.

 

You don’t get to call him, ever.”

 

Qi Rong can feel his throat being crushed, bones making dangerous noises, but it’s not as if he needs to breathe anyway; nevertheless he racks his befuddled brain to figure out what the fuck made Hua Cheng so angry this time, but the cruel rhythm of thrusts makes it almost impossible for any rational thoughts to happen.

 

A few more choppy thrusts is all it takes before Qi Rong feels his ass becoming filled with more of Hua Cheng’s cum, making his stomach feel impossibly full. 

 

As Hua Cheng attempts to fuck the very soul out of his body through his ass, Qi Rong swears that Hua Cheng mumbles something that sounds like “ gege… ”, but he really can’t pay too much attention to it as he finally succumbs to pure exhaustion and loses consciousness. 

 

Feeling Qi Rong going limp in his arms, Hua Cheng grunts, fucking into his as a few more times before coming to a stop. He slowly pulls Qi Rong’s limp body off of him, staring at his own cum dripping slowly out of Qi Rong’s gaping hole. 

 

He surprisingly gently places Qi Rong on the floor, one hand coming up to his face to brush away stray hair that stuck to his sweaty face. He stared at the (almost familiar face), expression complicated. Finally, a small and twisted smile crosses his face.

 

“Until next time.”