Chapter 1: I am not getting in the bunny costume, childe
warnings for childe being shitty, dubious consent, power play, humiliation, etc.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
“You still look as dashing as ever,” Childe says breezily. “A brand new era, isn’t it? Can hardly tell a thing has changed since your funeral.” He beckons Zhongli forward, shuffling the rest of his papers away. “Lock the door behind you.”
Zhongli obliges, stepping up to his desk after clicking the door shut.
“So you chose to take up my offer.”
A few days ago, Childe had sent a letter to Zhongli requesting his assistance. The terms weren’t clear, but he promised to pay generously: just half a day’s worth of work; a temporary, part-time job. Zhongli was pleasantly surprised. The circumstances had necessitated a disguise—he had no regrets over fooling Childe—but they hadn’t spoken since the gnosis exchange, and Zhongli was never one to burn bridges without reason.
Zhongli cleared out his schedule immediately and headed over to his office at the Northland Bank. If there was any way to make it up to him, he was determined to see it through.
“Thought you’d finally make yourself useful for once, huh? How’s the mortal life treating you?”
“I have been adjusting," Zhongli says.
“I heard you already ran out of mora,” Childe snickers.
“Well.” He pauses. “It was very kind of you to offer me a part-time job, if that was your reason for doing so.”
“I’ve got mora to spare, and you seem to need it,” Childe shrugs, “Especially with all that free time. But are you really alright with working here? For me? No hard feelings at all, after what I almost did to your beloved city?”
Zhongli frowns. “I knew you never had any intention to hurt Liyue’s people.”
“Did I?” Childe laughs. “You seem very keen on forgiving me, Zhongli. I’m thankful.”
“I felt I needed to settle things with you,” Zhongli says softly. As expected, Childe still harbors resentment. The bitterness in his voice is evidence enough.
“To be clear, this isn’t for reconciliation, or anything like that,” Childe says, rummaging through his drawers. “It’s a business exchange. A job.”
“What exactly did you need my assistance for? My expertise?”
“Expertise?” The edge of Childe’s lips quirk up, as if he finds something immensely funny.
“If there is anything I can assist you with, I am at your service. This is the least I can do to make it up to you.”
“I don’t need your expertise, Zhongli. No; I want you to wear this.” He pulls out a garment from the drawer.
To describe it in one word, it looks… skimpy. A black bodysuit made of shiny, elastic, fabric, low-cut in the back with triangles of fabric cupping each breast. Childe taps it with his finger before pulling out another object, a headband with dark, floppy bunny ears attached. “Your job is to wear these,” he repeats.
“You want me to… put that on?” Zhongli asks, furrowing his brows.
“I need a morale boost. Thought it might help to have a pretty man around. You said you’d help, didn’t you?”
“I was, ah—not aware of the terms.”
“You’re one of the prettiest faces I’ve ever seen, xiansheng, it’s a mystery you don’t have people tripping everywhere you go. Is it any wonder I’d like the honor of seeing you in this?”
“I appreciate the flattery, Childe, but…”
“Come on, now,” Childe laughs. “You agreed to come work for me, didn’t you? Are you just going to leave after coming all the way here? I was the one who asked you to come, and I have full intention of paying up. Think of this as a job, yeah?”
Zhongli opens his mouth to speak, but Childe continues on. “And, who knows—maybe this can be a start to you earning your forgiveness. I’m not the one seeking reconciliation, here. If you want to make it up to me, you can start by putting that on.”
“Wear that, and hang around in my office for a few hours. What would you rather do? Do mind-numbingly boring tasks like file paperwork, or sit pretty for me?”
Zhongli genuinely considers leaving. He doesn’t know why he didn’t walk out the door right that instant.
“Alright,” he says, against his better judgement.
Zhongli takes the bunny costume from Childe without enthusiasm, laying it on top a side table as he begins to take off his coat. It’s mesmerizing, to watch as that man strips his jacket and unclasps his waistcoat, shedding the formality he bears so casually.
“Are you going to… stay here while I change?” Zhongli asks, glancing back.
“This is my office, isn’t it?”
Zhongli makes a face. “You could turn around, at the very least.”
“Alright, alright, I’ll give you your privacy.” Childe swivels his body back around, staring at the wall, as he hears the rumpling fabric of Zhongli shedding the rest of his clothes.
And then there’s a tight snap, as Zhongli pulls what Childe can guess is the bunny suit up over his body. “Ah,” he hears him gasp briefly. “It’s, erm… small.”
“In what way?”
“It’s very, very tight. And…”
Zhongli coughs. “There’s a hole in it. In the back.”
“Let me take a look,” Childe says, turning around without waiting for Zhongli to give him the OK.
It is downright atrocious how badly his lower half reacts the second he lays his eyes on him. It’s better than he ever could’ve imagined, Zhongli’s thoroughly erotic body on full display like that. Dark fabric pinches around his tight waist perfectly, large swaths of his chest and shoulders fully bare and exposed. The white collar fits his neck like it belongs there. And oh—the stockings. The sheer black stockings run all the way up his legs, stopping at his thighs and hugging his flesh tightly enough to form indents where they end.
Childe trails his eyes over his slim, long legs, his milky, exposed thighs and glorious, fucking hips, like a teenager seeing a dirty magazine for the first time. He can see why Zhongli thinks this costume is too small. It covers nothing. It sticks so tightly to his skin, Childe can see everything— every dip, every curve, every indent. Zhongli might as well be naked before him.
(Childe does, he admits too easily, want to see that too. Though that can come later.)
—It’s not too small, no, not at all. In fact, it’s the perfect size. Zhongli tugs at the elastic riding all above his hips, but it refuses to stretch down any further, and Childe devours each bit of exposed skin like a starving man. In terms of beauty, he’s never seen anything close to this. He looks so perfect, he could cry.
He wants to grab him by the waist and fuck him silly so damn bad. Wants to shove him against a wall, pound his tight little hole and pump him full of cum until his cute little face is littered with tears and his knees are threatening to collapse.
…Thankfully, Childe knows self-restraint. One step at a time.
Zhongli flushes as Childe’s eyes drift shamelessly down to his crotch, noticing how the stretched-out fabric just barely manages to contain what’s beneath. Just barely. It’s downright obscene, Childe thinks. It’s perfect.
“Are you just going to sit here and ogle me all day?” Zhongli asks, a faint red spreading across his cheeks.
“It looks good on you, Zhongli. In fact, you look absolutely fucking fantastic. Were you really hiding all of that from me this whole time? First your identity as Rex Lapis, and now this?”
“That is, y-you…” Zhongli stutters, suddenly flustered. “Shameless,” he mutters, averting his gaze.
“Show me what you look like from behind, too, will you?”
“I cannot do that.”
“There’s a hole,” he says timidly. “Right… over the backside.” And he pats an area behind him that Childe knows is definitely his bare, uncovered asshole.
How lewd. The bunny suit, after all, is designed that way. “That’s right!” Childe says with feigned astonishment. “How could I forget the most important part of all?”
Childe holds up what is unmistakably a buttplug, and one that happens to have a thick, cottony white ball attached to the end. Zhongli’s eyes widen in realization.
“What’s a bunny without a tail? Silly me, it completely slipped my mind.”
Zhongli stares, the red in his cheeks deepening even further. “You want me to…”
So cute. “Yes. I want you to put this in your ass. What, don’t tell me you’ve never had anything up your butt before?”
“This is not appropriate, Childe.” Right, because this would probably constitute as workplace sexual harassment.
“Appropriate?” Childe laughs. “You think that matters to me? Look at you, already all dressed up. Come on, Zhongli, it’s an essential part of the costume. You won’t even feel a thing. It’s not like I want you to do anything with it, you know—just slide it in, and you’re done.”
“...Unless you want me to put it in for you,” he grins threateningly. Oh, he loves that look of embarrassment playing across Zhongli’s face. “I wouldn’t mind doing that, either. Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.”
“I will put it in myself,” Zhongli retorts, glaring at Childe as he takes it into his hands. Childe glances at his delicate fingers, realizing with a jolt that he’s somehow never seen him without gloves on before.
“You’ll want this, too,” Childe says, handing him the small vial of lube. Zhongli takes it without a word and motions for him to turn around again. Childe obeys.
Oh sweet Tsaritsa, he’s really doing it, isn’t he? Zhongli, inserting a buttplug, right in his office? His heart beats in excitement at the mere thought of it: Zhongli spreading his cheeks with his slender, ungloved fingers, sticking them inside his pretty pink hole until he finally manages to inch the tapered plug inside… one peek can’t hurt, can it?
“I am finished.” Zhongli still refuses to make eye contact when Childe turns back to look at him, and a part of him doesn’t quite believe he’s actually done it.
“You’re gonna show me, aren’t you?”
Zhongli swallows, turning around, still tugging at the elastic in an attempt to pull it further over his ass—and, sure enough, there’s a cute, enormous, cottony white rabbit tail lying at his back.
Archons. How easy it would be to take it into his hands and tug it, to test just how easily it comes out. Just a simple cotton ball could be so, so extraordinarily erotic with the knowledge that the other half is buried snugly inside Zhongli’s body. Not to mention the elephant in the room: Zhongli’s maddeningly fat ass. The skimpy costume covers even less of the back than the front, his skin spilling out the edges in what Childe thinks is a highly spankable fashion.
This can’t be real.
Zhongli turns back around and crosses his arms before he’s had his fill, evidently displeased with Childe’s demands. Well, it doesn’t matter. The harbinger has somehow herded the dignified consultant into a skimpy bunny costume with a buttplug shoved up his ass. Childe has already won.
“Hey,” he says, exhaling with an enthusiastic grin, “you forgot the ears.”
Zhongli takes the headband without a word and slides it quietly over his head, so cutely that Childe’s dick almost combusts on the spot. Fuck.
“I take it that this is to your liking?” Zhongli says, with more than a hint of annoyance in his voice.
“More than perfect,” Childe smirks. “Take a seat.”
“...There is only one chair in this office.”
“Exactly. Come over here.”
“I do not wish to make you to vacate your seat—”
“Zhongli, are you dense?” Childe sighs. “I want you to sit on my lap.”
“What, you think you’re going to crush me or something? I can handle your weight just fine, don’t worry. I’ve already reserved plenty of room for you.” Childe cocks his head, spreading his legs and beckoning Zhongli forward. “Come on. I don’t bite.”
Zhongli lowers his almost entirely bare ass onto Childe’s lap like he’s sitting in a chair, well aware he is leaping right into the jaws of a beast. Childe receives his body with a pair of arms wrapped around his waist, hugging him closer, and a face nuzzled into his back.
It’s warm. He can feel Childe’s breath against his bare shoulder. He definitely bites.
“This cannot be comfortable for you,” Zhongli frowns.
“…You’re right,” Childe says thoughtfully. “Get off.”
Zhongli stands back up with a sigh of relief, tugging his bunny suit to stop it from riding up. It was preposterous for Childe to propose he sit on his lap. He was full-grown, far too large to rest on his thighs like a child anymore, and for him to request this type of bodily intimacy from him—
“I want to see your face this time,” Childe says. Zhongli turns around, and Childe grabs at his leg, causing Zhongli to momentarily lose his footing.
“What are you—”
Childe evidently still wants him to sit in his lap, just—in a different position. Facing him. Childe smiles when he sees it click in Zhongli’s head, wrapping a hand around his back to pull him forward. Zhongli flushes when he’s atop Childe’s body again, legs spread wide and chest pressed to his.
This is far, far too close together!
“Now this is more comfortable. Wouldn’t you agree?” Childe says, wrapping Zhongli’s arms around his shoulders. He grabs against the back of his chair for support, trying to ignore the feeling of his bare ass rubbing against Childe’s lap.
Zhongli stiffens further as he feels Childe pushing his head over his shoulder. Inviting him to rest in the crook of his neck.
“You can relax, you know,” Childe smirks. “You’ll be staying here a while, so sit whatever way suits you best. Good posture isn’t going to get you anywhere.” Childe turns his attention back to the report he was looking at before, and Zhongli realizes that he intends to keep him sitting there, on his lap, as he does his job.
What was it that Childe had said? A ‘morale boost’?
“I do not understand how you can work like this,” Zhongli mutters.
“It’s not my fault you’re so breathtaking, Zhongli.” Childe’s hand drifts down, and Zhongli lets out a pinched breath as he feels Childe groping at his ass.
(To be perfectly honest, Childe can’t focus on work at all. Not when all the blood is rushing to his dick, which he’s sure Zhongli can feel, and he’s spending each second thinking about the beauty lying against his chest. —That's alright. The only thing he planned to do today is Zhongli, after all.)
They sit like that for a while, Childe’s warm hand wrapped around his back, and Zhongli finds himself slipping into a state of calm. It’s quiet, inside, beyond the sound of people talking in the hallway, and he leans a little more comfortably into Childe’s shoulder before he realizes it himself. Zhongli examines the Snezhnayan paintings on the wall behind him, thinking about how oddly nice it feels to be with Childe like this. Warm. Despite his penchant for chaos, the man is perfectly capable of staying still.
He catches himself, realizing with a start that Childe is trying to lower his guard.
“Are you getting bored?”
“Mm?” Zhongli murmurs. “I can stay still for long periods of time. An afternoon is not much.”
“Come on, now. You must be looking for something more exciting than just sitting here.”
“Excitement? I don’t need…”
Zhongli gasps, a small noise suddenly escaping his lips. This was where the fun began.
“Wh-what…” Zhongli squirms on Childe’s lap, instinctively clutching at him as he feels something inside twitch . He quickly grabs at his tail, but Childe snatches his wrist before he can yank it out.
“What is this?” Zhongli demands, trying to pull Childe’s hand away.
“See if you can figure it out.” Zhongli sees Childe’s Vision glow faintly out of the corner of his eye before Childe flicks his fingers upward, and Zhongli chokes as something slams right into his prostate, squeezing a desperate noise from his throat.
It doesn’t stop. It keeps jabbing that spot, causing Zhongli to jerk pitifully in Childe’s grasp, and he’s trying to stabilize himself in his seat as tremors run through his whole body. It’s the lube, he realizes deliriously. Childe’s controlling it, somehow—
“Stop,” Zhongli gasps, pushing at Childe’s chest, trying to break free of the hand around his wrist. “Stop, you— ngh! Mnn—!”
“Hm?” Childe says, cocking his head toward the door. “It seems like there are people outside, Zhongli. You wouldn’t want them to hear you, would you? You might be quiet right now, but believe me—I can make you loud. How would you like to test me?”
“Bastard,” Zhongli gasps. “Y-you…ha-ah…!”
“Now,” Childe says, “You can be a good boy and keep quiet, can’t you, Zhongli? I’m a man of my word—serve me to the end of the day without making a fuss, and I’ll give you the money I offered. How does that sound?” Childe flicks his fingers again and Zhongli spasms, grinding against Childe’s lap with a shaky exhale.
“Stop it,” Zhongli hisses. “This isn’t—this isn’t p-part of the agreement—” The hostile edge to his voice dissolves more and more with each tremor. Childe notices the way Zhongli’s back arches slightly each time it pulses, the way one of his hands has already risen to his mouth to muffle the sounds.
Childe pulls down the front of his bunny suit, and Zhongli lets out an indecent whine as he begins to fondle his nipples, too. “Mnh—! G-gah, ough…!”
“Who knew you were so sensitive here, xiansheng,” Childe murmurs, pinching the nubs between his fingers and twisting cruelly. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were pretending.”
“Childe,” Zhongli chokes, “S-stop—” He releases his nipples with a flick, and Zhongli’s body jitters, his ass grinding against Childe’s crotch. Childe can feel his own face growing hotter.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?”
Zhongli glares at Childe without a word, cheeks flushing red and lips pursed. Well, that look is all he needs to know. Childe grabs his legs and shifts him forward so that his ass is positioned directly over him, allowing him to feel every little movement Zhongli makes as his body twitches under his assault.
Childe really can’t focus on work, now, but he turns his eye back to the report anyways, if only to let Zhongli know that he intends to leave him like this—a quivering mess on his lap. He savors the way Zhongli clutches to his shoulder for support, the soft pants slipping from his lips, his plump ass pressed firmly against his crotch.
He lowers the intensity, and Zhongli exhales as the pulsing disappears. “You liked that, didn’t you,” Childe smirks. “You want more?”
Zhongli grits his teeth, steadying himself. Childe continues to massage him with a soothing rhythm.
Zhongli is far, far too cute like this.
“You’re wonderful,” Childe says, stroking the back of Zhongli’s head. “You’re wonderful.” Zhongli exhales, dizzy, unsure of what Childe means, trying to squirm out of how close he’s trying to squeeze them together.
He’s like a cat, Childe thinks, a bizarre warmth filling his chest. He could leap from my lap any moment. But if I can keep him here…
They sit like that, Zhongli shifting in his seat, uncomfortably aroused but helpless to do anything about it, and Childe pressed against him in silence.
Until Childe decides it’s time to execute the final step.
Zhongli grimaces as Childe reaches for his ass again, pressing his hand firmly around a cheek and palming gently at his tail, only to grow alarmed as he cups his hand around it and pulls.
The plug exits his ass in one terrible movement, a slick pop, and Childe snatches it in his palm, tossing it onto the desk where it clatters and rolls. Zhongli scrambles backward, reaching for it, only to remember with confusion that he never wanted it inside him in the first place.
And then Zhongli feels Childe’s fingers prying at his exposed hole, now empty and slick with fluid. “You’re all nice and wet down here, aren’t you, Zhongli.” Childe grins, cupping one of Zhongli’s cheeks in each hand and running a finger over the rim. “You’re ready, don’t you think?”
Zhongli freezes instantly as he feels Childe’s unclothed erection poke against his ass.
“No,” Zhongli snarls, “This was not a part of the arrangement—”
“This isn’t part of our arrangement, that isn’t part of the arrangement,” Childe says mockingly. “Sometimes, I’m known to break the rules. Besides, I never told you what you’d be doing here anyways. There was never a contract to break to begin with.”
He hoists him up by the waist, pulling him over his cock and aligning the tip with his hole. Zhongli is grabbing at his arms, scrambling, trying to pull him away.
“Childe…! This isn’t…!”
Childe spreads his cheeks with his fingers and practically yanks Zhongli over his cock. He yelps—a painfully embarrassing noise—ears flopping over his head as he sinks down on top of it so quickly it chokes the breath from him. And oh, Zhongli feels so full. It stretches him wide open, filling him up, the thickness of it pulling at his rim as it pushes right into his stomach.
He lets out a shaky breath, feeling it stirring inside as he tries to sit up straight.
Childe is fucking huge.
“It’s not too bad now, is it?” Childe says, his hands around Zhongli’s waist. “For this, I’ll double your payment. From one million to two million mora. How’s that?”
“Childe,” he exhales, trying to blink away tears. “I am not your prostitute. I did—d-did not come here to pleasure you.”
“Money is money, Zhongli.”
“This is incredibly inappropriate—”
“Appropriate?” Childe sneers, suddenly animated. “For a normal person, perhaps. But you’re hardly an ordinary person, Zhongli-xiansheng. You’re a retired god, an adeptus living among humans. The rules don’t apply to you.” Childe runs his fingers over the fabric covering Zhongli’s stomach, and Zhongli can practically feel him pushing at the outline of his own cock buried deep inside. He sucks in a breath. “Look at your body, begging for me, quivering like a leaf at even the slightest touch. Who’s to decide what’s appropriate? You’re a divine slut, that’s what you are. Made for cock.”
Zhongli shudders at that, slapping Childe’s hand away.
“Besides,” Childe finishes viciously, “Most ordinary people wouldn’t have the means to refuse me, anyways. Not for the amount of mora I’m willing to pay. Not for my status, my power, my charm.”
“You’re revolting,” Zhongli growls.
“That’s right. I’m a bad guy, through and through. You chose someone like me to play the villain in your plan, after all. A shame I never got to confront Rex Lapis on the battlefield.” His hand drifts up his chest, and Zhongli’s breath hitches as he wraps it gently around his neck. Not tightly enough to cut off his airflow, but enough to make him still.
“Don’t worry,” he purrs. “I won’t fuck you. Not if you don’t want me to.”
How outrageous, Zhongli thinks, for Childe to say that with his cock buried deep inside him.
“I said it before, and I’ll say it again: I’ll give you the money if you stay. And you know I don’t break promises.” He pushes Zhongli forward until he’s pressed against the edge of the desk, allowing his cock to sink even further into his body. Zhongli lets out a hiss at the additional stretch.
Childe watches Zhongli’s shoulders bob up and down, his neck bent, with pleasure swimming in his dull blue eyes. Zhongli could refuse him, if he really wanted to. Zhongli could escape, now, with what little remained of the rest of his dignity. But Childe knows the two of them have gotten this far, and neither of them will let go now.
There’s a palpable tension hanging in the air as Zhongli sits there, refusing to look back at him, refusing to move. And there’s a victory in it. Childe leans back with his fingers massaging the soft flesh of Zhongli’s thighs, wondering what he ever did to deserve the former god of Liyue warming his cock for him.
The day eventually draws to a close.
“Two minutes left until you’re free, Zhongli.” Childe pushes his seat back from the table, taking Zhongli with him. “How was it? Working for me?”
Zhongli keeps his head buried at Childe’s back, refusing to speak.
“Let me let you in on a little secret, since you’ve been working so hard for me,” Childe murmurs. “The walls are soundproof. There’s no chance of anyone finding us here. Now, I say this because—hey, you’re not dismissed yet, don’t try getting up.” His fingers dig into his thighs until Zhongli hisses, keeping him pinned down to his lap.
“I say this because,” Childe says, forcefully spreading Zhongli’s legs further apart, “There must be something you want.”
He thrusts upward deviously, and Zhongli makes a choked noise, a hitched gasp escaping from the back of his throat.
“See? There’s no need to suppress it.”
“Childe.” Zhongli grits his teeth, finally turning back to give him a borderline venomous look. Childe just smirks in response, spreading his trembling thighs even further apart. “No.”
“Come, now,” Childe coos, far, far too sweetly. “I’m not forcing you to. This is just a favor between me and you, a little bonus for a day’s worth of work. I promise I’ll make it good for you, Zhongli. Aren’t you craving release?”
Zhongli pauses, and reprimands himself for it, furious that he’s even considering it.
What Childe says is undeniably true. As well as infuriating, upsetting, and downright humiliating. He’s already suffered much today at the mercy of Childe’s whims, making a fool of himself with his attempt at reconciliation, and Childe sees through him all too easily now. Sees just how badly he needs someone to touch him, sees just how easily his good faith can be taken advantage of. Zhongli flushes hotly at the mere thought of what he’s let Childe do to him, the utterly pathetic state he’s reduced him to.
Perhaps, the most he can do now is indulge in one last terrible act for himself.
“You can trust me,” Childe says. Zhongli reflects on that statement. He makes his decision.
“Fine.” Zhongli hopes he won’t come to regret it. “Do what you wish.”
Childe lets out a laugh, low and playful, one that makes Zhongli want to slap him.
Childe’s cock pops out of him for a brief moment as he’s abruptly stood back up and then twisted around, chest hitting the wood with a thud as Childe sends him sprawling over the table. Zhongli tries to get onto his elbows, but Childe shoves him back down to the desk, an implicit command for him to stay put. He obeys.
Zhongli feels Childe peeling the fabric of his bunny suit to the side to reveal his empty hole, already slicked-up and well-stretched. Childe runs his fingers over the pink, puckered rim, dipping the tip of a finger inside, and Zhongli flushes as he realizes that Childe is observing him. Of course Childe basks in the power of him being unable to see what he’s doing.
“And still so tight,” Childe says, pressing the tip of his cock up against his hole without pushing in. “Can hardly believe you’ve been sitting on my cock for the last hour.”
“Do not toy with me, if you’re the one inviting me,” Zhongli snarls. “Get to it—”
He feels him push the head inside, enough to make him feel that slight burn, and Childe slams the rest inside in one go. Zhongli chokes, spit dripping onto the desk at the stretch.
“Oh, that was a nice sound you made there, xiansheng. Be careful what you ask for!”
“You… give me warning, next time—” Next time, Zhongli thinks deliriously, because he’s still here, doing this, letting Childe do this to him—
“Remember: feel free to be as loud as you want. No one can hear you but me.” It’s a threat and a promise that sends chills up Zhongli’s spine.
“Less talk,” Zhongli groans, “more action.”
Zhongli’s cock twitches hard as Childe slams back in to the hilt, precum soiling the front of his underwear as he feels his thick cock plunge deep inside. Childe presses Zhongli to the desk, keeping his chest pinned to the table, pistoning in and out of his slick entrance with slow, gradual strokes.
Slap, slap. A steady rhythm emerges. Each stroke takes full advantage of his length, reaching all the way to the hilt with confidence, and Zhongli feels filled up to the absolute core as Childe quickly finds his prostate and sets out on his mission to destroy it.
His legs, still clad in the sheer black stockings, shake with each thrust, and Childe can’t help but feel himself getting even more impossibly aroused at the sight of his own hips slapping against his plump ass, the low-cut back of that bunny costume leaving Zhongli’s gorgeous back exposed. Zhongli’s bunny ears snap forward adorably, bouncing back and forth in tandem with each thrust.
This feels like a dream, Childe thinks in his haze, as small whimpers finally begin to slip from Zhongli’s mouth.
It incites him to fuck Zhongli even harder, so as not to let the opportunity get away.
Zhongli stutters as Childe grabs his ponytail and yanks it brutally, enough to force Zhongli’s back into a lewd arch as he slams himself in once more. He wastes no time with warming up. Zhongli barely adjusts to the original pace before Childe speeds up, hours of pent-up desire unraveling all in one moment. And oh, Childe is determined to ruin him. Zhongli scrabbles against the wood, doing all he can to keep his mouth shut as Childe fucks him wide open without mercy. He thrusts forward, devouring, the head of his cock slamming right into Zhongli’s prostate with devastating precision each time he snaps his hips forward.
He spreads Zhongli’s legs a little wider, thrusts in a little deeper, determined to do everything he can to break the man beneath him. Multiple strikes against his prostate leave Zhongli gasping for breath, tears beginning to form in his eyes, helpless to do anything but claw at the desk at his chest.
Childe moves with the strength of a beast, but he’s far from sloppy—no, each pinpoint thrust is designed to wreck, designed to punch out desperate noises from his trembling body. And oh, it feels good, Zhongli thinks as drool spills over his chin, legs spasming as another thrust lifts him all the way onto his toes. He refuses to allow Childe the pleasure of letting him know just how much he’s wrecking him, but the cries slowly escaping his mouth give him away soon enough.
“Ough, ngh, oh—!!”
“I’ve been,” Childe gasps out, slamming his hips against Zhongli, “wanting to fuck you for so, so so long now, xiansheng. Since the moment I met you. Couldn’t stop thinking about what a pretty thing you were.”
“Imagine my surprise, finding out you were Rex Lapis. Oh, I was pissed.” Zhongli doesn’t have to imagine. He can feel it in each brutal thrust Childe sends arcing into his body, pummeling him like a disposable ragdoll without restraint. Zhongli tears up, lips parting in a gasp, as Childe yanks his head backward with force.
“Thought I really meant something to you, and it turns out I was just a pawn. I wanted to give it up. Let bygones be bygones, they say.”
“But—” He thrusts in again, and Zhongli jolts, his whole body collapsing into his heat. “I couldn’t. Couldn’t let you go.”
Childe grabs both of his wrists and yanks them backward, allowing him to angle his cock as far as humanly possible into Zhongli’s pliant body, and Zhongli can feel it in his guts as he rams in with his the whole weight of his body again and again and again. Sweat drips down his face, his golden eyes beginning to roll back, the pleasure shooting through his veins so intoxicating he can barely form a single thought.
“Hah, h-hah—! Ah, hah, h-hah—!!”
He must look ridiculous right now, dressed in that bunny costume. Getting fucked silly on his desk, drooling all over his papers, unable to think about anything but Childe’s massive cock slamming into him over and over and over. Childe’s pace only continues to accelerate until each desperate moan punched out of his lungs feels like it’ll be his last. He writhes in ecstasy, trapped under Childe’s unbearable grip without a single thought of being anywhere but here.
“Oh, oh, a-ah, ah, ah—”
“I wanted to hear you scream for me. Wanted to hear you moan like this, my cock buried in your tight ass, my hand squeezing your hips.”
“Can you blame me?” Childe exhales, before one final thrust shatters Zhongli completely. He comes with an obscene noise, pure ecstasy surging through his veins as he feels tacky liquid soaking into the fabric and dripping all over his cock.
“Gh… gah, ah… h-hah…!”
He moans brokenly, limbs falling back to his sides, shoulders trembling weakly over the desk. Everything collapses in that moment, his body going limp as Childe’s warmth pours into him, claiming him. “You’re every bit as good as I imagined,” Childe pants, pure pleasure dancing in his eyes.
“You lasted so long, xiansheng. As befitting of a former archon.” He leans over Zhongli, pressing a kiss to the tears rolling down his face, his body still shaking as it takes shuddering breaths back into aching lungs. Childe runs his fingers over his lips, caressing his face with an uncharacteristically gentle touch, before he leans back up.
Because Childe isn’t done.
He raises one of Zhongli’s trembling legs entirely off the ground and hooks an arm around his bent knee, tilting his body sideways, and Zhongli barely processes what Childe is about to do before he thrusts back in ruthlessly, slamming into his oversensitive prostate with such force that Zhongli screams, tears immediately spilling from his eyes.
It’s so much. So much that it’s cruel . He scrambles for purchase against his desk, trying to fight off the overwhelming agony tearing through his entire body as Childe starts to fuck him again. Each thrust rips horribly obscene cries from his throat, pleasure and pain mixing together until Zhongli is babbling, unable to beg for Childe to stop, unable to comprehend anything that’s happening but Childe’s warmth forcefully penetrating his guts.
“You’re flexible,” Childe laughs, gripping even more tightly onto his leg to keep him from slipping. Another thrust. Zhongli’s brain short-circuits, unintelligible noises spilling from his mouth. He can’t comprehend what Childe is saying anymore, doesn’t understand how he can still speak when the pleasure picking apart Zhongli’s mind leaves him paralyzed in every way possible.
“Ah, hah, ghn— mnghh, hah— oh, hah ah—!!!”
“Don’t worry, I won’t last long either,” Childe grins, licking his lips. He’s practically digging into his prostate, scraping against it so powerfully that Zhongli is screaming from sheer pleasure pain agony. “Not with the way your tight hole keeps clenching around me. You’re crying so hard, but your body keeps asking for more. What a needy whore you are, xiansheng.”
Zhongli shatters, sobbing brokenly as Childe bends his knee further and further into him until his whole body aches. Childe’s movements grow sloppier and sloppier but never die down in vigor, slamming forward with such fervent intensity that Zhongli’s body scrapes against the wood with each thrust.
“Ngh… ah, gah, mngh, nh, hah…!!”
It’s so much. It’s so much. His whole body has turned to jelly long ago, Childe’s grip the only thing keeping him from sliding off the desk entirely. Zhongli lets out a broken noise as the mix of pain and pleasure forces him to cum again, more fluid dripping into his clothes and running down his own thighs. He can’t see how much there is, but it feels like his orgasm lasts forever, so intense that he almost whites out— it’s so much, it’s so much—
So, so much—
The rush of pleasure jets through his body, and Zhongli goes limp, half-lidded eyes rolled back.
He feels a liquid heat fill him much not later as Childe pumps another load of cum into his soft and well-fucked hole, the tacky fluid seeping warm inside his waiting stomach. Childe pulls out, and Zhongli collapses back down against the table, completely fucked out with his spread legs wobbling uncontrollably. He doesn’t move.
Oh, he’s ruined.
It takes him several more moments before he’s able to slowly lift himself back up onto his shaking elbows again, and he lets out a pitiful moan, still trying to return to reality. Childe plops down on the chair with a pleased sigh. Who knew Zhongli could break so easily? He’s tempted to spread his hole back open and watch his cum spill out, to dig it out with his fingers and feed it back to him. But with the state Zhongli is currently in, it’s probably better to keep his hands off until he recovers. Childe resigns himself to just watching him struggle with sadistic satisfaction.
The world suddenly rights itself as Zhongli snaps out of his haze, and the full weight of what he’s just done with Childe slams into him at once. He gags, instinctively tugging the fabric back over his ass and closing his legs back up, desperately trying to make himself presentable again. Unfortunately for him, the opening in the costume is still there, exposing his abused rim—red and dripping wet, almost ripe for another round.
Childe looks on with amusement as Zhongli tears off the bunny headband and practically smacks it against the table.
“You simply wished to use me,” he chokes. Ah, yes. That delicious look of resentment.
“Were you not the first to do such a thing?” Childe replies, crossing his fingers over his chest. “I promised to make it good for you. With all the sounds you were making, you can’t say I lied.”
Zhongli doesn’t respond.
“You can leave those clothes here,” Childe says smugly. “I’ll wash it off. And oh, you did great today. I’ll wire the two million to your bank account as soon as you leave—with an extra tip, of course. Your performance overtime was beyond spectacular.”
Zhongli glares at him, cheeks still flushed bright red and streaked with sweat from their activity, and he puts on his clothes the fastest he’s ever seen anyone dress in that many layers after getting fucked so entirely stupid. It’s adorable how mussed up he still looks, even after dressing back in his ordinary clothes. His former elegance is nowhere to be seen, dignity already shattered beneath Childe’s heel.
The man is out the door in three minutes, sparing no time for any sort of niceties. Guess he’s not the type to cuddle, Childe thinks to himself with amusement.
He saw a new side of Zhongli today, one that previously only existed in his imagination. And oh, the desperate, ruined Zhongli of his imagination did not even come close to the real thing.
One hundred percent worth it.
Childe may have drunk his fill today, but he’s far from satiated. No, he’s practically vibrating with excitement. That was far more than a success, blowing all of his former expectations through the roof. He’s frankly astonished that Zhongli let him push it that far.
He’ll be back, he thinks. He has to.
(And, even if he doesn’t, he’ll have enough divine jack-off material for the rest of his life.)
Zhongli lets out a sigh of deep consternation as he dries off his hair, rubbing the fluffy towel softly against his dark locks. Even his nightly routine can’t set his mind at ease. Not with the flashy young harbinger tugging constantly at the back of his mind, reminding him what a fool he’d made of himself that day.
“Tartaglia,” Zhongli says aloud, feeling his foreign title roll off his tongue. It echoes quietly off the walls of his room.
He’d dared—he’d dared, Zhongli thinks. He marvels at his boldness, his audaciousness, his lack of mercy for a former friend-turned-enemy. He’d dared to walk up to Zhongli and take what he wanted— and somehow manage to get away with it, as well, no thanks to Zhongli’s shameful weakness.
Zhongli has to fight back the flush of embarrassment spreading over his cheeks again. He’s torn between feeling wrongfully tricked, and conceding that the man had masterfully slipped through his cracks of his own accord. Wrenched his walls crumbling down with a bizarre mix of brute force and fastidiousness. Perhaps he’d misjudged him. The nuance of a sledgehammer, but the cunning of a fox—Childe was not to be underestimated.
This is the man who hoped to lay the gods at his feet, as he’d told Zhongli many times before. He was dangerous, that boy.
The moment the Tsaritsa’s chosen lieutenant had arrived in Liyue Harbor, bright-eyed and wild-haired as he shook the consultant’s hand, Zhongli could detect the traces of something unsettling in his eyes, a primordial thirst for conflict that few would ever notice. He was tainted, corrupted by something most would never come to see.
If he were a sensible person, he’d turn from Childe and never look back. If he were still Rex Lapis, staying wouldn’t even be within his consideration; the threat Childe posed to Liyue would escalate until it necessitated his removal.
But the harbinger's orchestrated role was over, now. He was on his own—they were both on their own. He’d finally secured the role of Zhongli, the adeptus who walks among mortals. And Childe, of the few privy to his identity, is all too eager to desecrate him. To treat him as less than a god. Even less than a human, perhaps.
(Any mortal ensnared in his trap ought to run.)
Zhongli can’t help but admit that sends a thrill up his spine. He's ruled for too long, guiding Liyue by his own hand. Things are different, now. Childe is different.
(He can afford to follow along, can't he?)
Zhongli has a lot to think about.
long time no tartali! leave a comment if you enjoyed ♡♡
a note for the future trajectory of this fic: consent will be negotiated better in future chapters (because zhongli actually wants it, and agrees to it), but their relationship will not develop into fluffy and romantic or healthy endgame
heed these warnings thank you for reading, lots of zhongli bully to come
Chapter 2: like you were maid for me
Childe has a new request. Zhongli returns, against his better judgement.
dubcon/(consensual ??) non-consent toward the end. it gets kinda dark, courtesy of childe. warning for him being generally violent and terrible
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
“You got my letter,” Childe says, throwing down his report cheerily. “I’m glad.”
“I would be willing to accomodate you again,” Zhongli frowns, “but only— ” —he shuts the door and locks it— “—with better negotiation beforehand.”
For Zhongli to even come back is a miracle, and both of them know it. Childe gestures for him to continue.
“You will not insert anything inside me today,” Zhongli says sternly, “Particularly without clear forewarning and explicit consent, which you both ignored rather flagrantly last time. And, as I have said before, I did not come to serve as your prostitute. This is non-negotiable. ”
Childe shrugs. “If those are your terms, then that’s alright with me.”
“Warn me before you try anything foolish,” Zhongli scowls. “Are you listening, Tartaglia? If you attempt to pull anything similar to what you did previously, I will leave immediately.”
“Got it, got it. Anything else?” Childe asks, not even looking at him. Zhongli crosses his arms in distaste at his careless attitude. “If not, then I’ll go get the preparations ready.”
Childe is reaching into the closet when Zhongli speaks up again.
“There is another matter I want to address.”
“Concerning the mora.”
“Are you unhappy with the amount?”
“Truthfully, I…” Zhongli clears his throat. “I feel that it is wrong to take it. It is quite a large sum, considering the services I provide. So, if there is any additional way I can make use of my time here—outside of sexual favors, that is—I would be happy to oblige. I guarantee I can work very efficiently, if there is anything that you need done.”
Childe stops and stares. Here Zhongli was, offering his perfect, perfect body to him and playing right into his every move, and he felt guilty for being showered in mora. Mora that he fucking created, by the way. Was Childe supposed to feel bad about that?
He thinks for a moment. “If you’re so determined to work, there are a few tasks I can have you do today. But, first, we need to get you changed.”
“Into the costume from before?” Zhongli is already beginning to undo his outer coat.
So eager to get started, Childe snickers. “No, no bunny costume today. This time, I’ve prepared—”
He finds what he’s looking for quickly enough and holds it out. “—This for you.”
…A maid dress.
It's a bona-fide maid dress, crisp and well-ironed. The kind that—Zhongli thinks to himself with amusement—a few Liyueans have their female servants dress up in for fetish play, when the Fontaine variety comes off as too risqué to the general public. The dark skirt flows well past the knees, and the white apron layered in front loops over the shoulders in large frills, tied tastefully at the back with a lovely bow.
Frankly, it’s a rather elegant garment, befitting a sophisticated nobleman, and Zhongli can see no vulgar alterations to it. He raises an eyebrow. “I did not know you had an interest in these kinds of activities.”
“I'm flattered you still think better of me than those old perverts, if that’s what you’re talking about, but I can’t quite say I’m better than them,” Childe smirks. “Here.” Zhongli takes the garments, as well as another smaller package he’s handed. “Put all of this on. I’ll get the supplies.”
“Wait,” Zhongli says, opening the other bag. Childe looks over from the doorway. “Would you like me to… wear these too?”
Zhongli is holding up a minuscule pair of panties with an indescribable expression on his face. Black lace, thin and scanty. They look entirely out of place with his current getup—clothed head to toe in one of the most formal work uniforms Liyue has to offer—and it only makes it all the sweeter.
“Yes,” Childe smirks. “Everything in the pile.”
He returns soon after with a bucket, mop, rag, and dustpan, and sets Zhongli to work.
There’s something so attractive about watching Zhongli do house chores, Childe thinks, mopping the floorboards and wiping the bookshelves until not a speck of dust remains. He carries out each task with such earnestness that it’s adorable. Oh, he’s taking this seriously, alright.
Then again, when has Zhongli ever not taken something seriously? Childe half-expected him not to know how to clean, but he should’ve known better than to let his aristocratic appearance fool him again.
He’s sure Zhongli can feel his eyes on him, judging from the way his glance occasionally darts back to Childe’s desk, but he doubts that’s any explanation for his excellent behavior. Zhongli is simply just perfect. Too perfect. It’s almost funny how his diligence carries into maid roleplay.
He looks downright beautiful as he strides across the room, skirt fluttering around his legs with each step. The way he pats down his apron to smooth it out, the furrowed look in his brow as he’s reaching for a particularly difficult spot, how the cut of the dress emphasizes his trim waist—Childe is glad he went along with the outfit choice he did.
He can’t wait to shatter that pristine facade, he thinks. That dress is a little too well-ironed. It would look good with a few wrinkles in it.
If Zhongli thinks his intentions today are purely chaste—he’d be a complete fool to, of course—he has a storm coming for him.
“Hmm, is this what I think it is? Dust?” Childe swipes a finger inside a desk cabinet Zhongli didn’t have the time to get to, with how meticulously he was working everywhere else. “And—”
He cruelly tips over a well of ink, watching Zhongli’s face fall as the black liquid spills off his desk and dribbles all over the newly-wiped floor. Hard work undone in a moment. “What a mess this is. How could you have missed this?”
“I will clean it up immediately,” Zhongli says, scrambling forward to wipe it up. Childe blocks his way with his foot.
“No, get up. What a poor job you did today, Zhongli. You’ll have to be punished.”
Zhongli’s heart skips a beat at the word punishment, coming from Childe. Rightfully so. Childe licks his lips as he sees Zhongli tremble.
“Elbows against the table. Bend over.”
“What are you intending to—the ink, ah, it’s still—”
“Quiet. I didn’t allow you to speak.”
Zhongli shuts his mouth and obeys, lowering his torso down and keeping his elbows pressed to the desk with his ass sticking out. He still looks demure, well-covered. Not for long.
Childe circles around to the other side of the desk where Zhongli is. “Expose yourself for me.”
Zhongli isn’t a complete idiot, because he figures out what Childe wants quickly enough, fumbling to pull up swaths of his long skirt to expose his backside. And oh, what a sight it is. There’s something so unequestionably erotic about seeing Zhongli bent over a table with his skirt hiked up, finely shaped ass and legs exposed for Childe’s pleasure.
Childe smiles as he sees that Zhongli is indeed wearing the lingerie he ordered him to put on, which fail to cover up any part of his soft, round, asscheeks, as well as the gartered thigh-high stockings attached to the belt around his waist. Zhongli’s breath hitches as Childe brushes a thumb over his pale, smooth, ass, eager to see it marked.
“We’ll begin with twenty spanks for a bad job.”
Zhongli swallows, but doesn’t protest. Childe takes off his glove.
Even knowing what’s about to happen doesn’t stop Zhongli from crying out as Childe’s hand comes down hard, a full-bodied, resounding slap that fills the entire room at impact. Childe can already see red forming where his hand connected, and it’s just the beginning of his punishment. How easily Zhongli’s skin reddens.
Zhongli makes a choked noise at the second strike, just as forceful at the first, but continues to stay in place, elbows pressed firmly against the table.
“So loud,” Childe observes. Zhongli flushes.
He does a better job of staying quiet after that, determined not to let out any more unseemly noises, but his legs start to tremble as the spanks come down one after another, the tensing of his spine giving away the stinging pain Childe sends through his body with each hit. Humiliation blooms through his cheeks as Childe spanks him like a disobedient schoolchild, showing no mercy in each strike.
Childe’s hand comes down. Zhongli lets out a whimper, his ass already blushing red. A thin trail of saliva drips down his chin, tears beading in his eyes.
Another spank. Zhongli lurches forward, his knees starting to cave. Smack. The ink spill is long forgotten. His breath comes out in a sob each time Childe’s hand connects.
“How many more can you take?” Childe murmurs into Zhongli’s ear, after the first twenty have left Zhongli’s ass swollen and red. He shivers, blinking away the tears in his eyes.
“One additional spank for each time you failed to refer to me as ‘Master’.”
—Of course, Childe had never instructed Zhongli to refer to him in such a way. They both knew this.
“Spread your legs wider,” Childe says calmly. Zhongli complies without a word. Childe spanks him again.
Childe marvels at the adorable noises tumbling from Zhongli, the flush spreading across his cheeks, the pitiful expression on his face.
Another smack. Zhongli unravels more and more with each brutal spank until his elbows threaten to cave completely. His skin is terribly red, raw and swollen and begging for more, tears leaking from his half-closed eyes.
He’s downright beautiful like this, surrendering himself to Childe. He can never get enough of it. He offers no opening for Zhongli to tell him to stop, and Zhongli himself keeps silent.
Suddenly, Childe grabs his cock without warning, rubbing his fingers over the fabric, and Zhongli lets out an outrageously obscene noise. The lace panties are soiled. Filthy. That he’s already hard and leaking does not escape Childe’s notice.
“You’re this affected from getting spanked?” Childe says, eyes widening in amazement. “Oh, xiansheng… you really like this, don’t you?”
Zhongli trembles, swallowing without a word. The whimper that slips from his lips as Childe releases his pretty, twitching cock from the confines of his underwear is answer enough.
“You like being treated like my personal whore.”
“I don’t,” he squeezes out, voice small and shaky.
“Then what do you like, Zhongli? You mean to tell me you really don’t enjoy this? Just look at yourself.”
Childe hits him again, and Zhongli bites back a response as it sends him careening forward, another bead of precum collecting at the tip of his undeniably hard cock. “I’m going to keep hitting you until you tell me what you want, Zhongli.”
Smack. Childe continues to spank him, determine to break his pride. Smack. Zhongli’s shoulders are shaking, open palms curling into trembling fists.
“I always suspected you had a masochistic streak, but this is just next level,” Childe sneers. “I never knew you were so perverted. Look at how cute you are, trying to hide the truth. You’re practically drooling.”
“N-no, I…” Zhongli stutters, trying to deny it even as his cheeks flush red. “I… ngh!!” Another spank. Zhongli is in tears, trying to contain himself as Childe raises his palm back into the air. Stiffening himself for another strike. Another hit lands, the sharp sting cutting through the haze of pain.
“Regardless of what you think, your voice and body both betray how you’re feeling. I bet you want to touch yourself so badly right now.” He runs a finger along Zhongli’s cock and he squeaks, his whole body suddenly trembling beneath Childe’s.
“Please!” Zhongli yelps.
“Hm?” Childe asks, swiping a finger over the head and pressing against the slit. Zhongli quivers, trying to rub himself against Childe, but he quickly pulls his hand away.
Childe holds his breath as he grabs Zhongli’s chin and tilts it toward him, watching the tears beading quietly in his beautiful amber eyes. “Stop teasing me,” Zhongli breathes.
Ah. His bullying has gotten to him.
Childe sighs. “You’re perfect. I can barely keep my hands off you.”
Zhongli feels Childe’s palm lift off his burning, reddened ass, loosening his apron just enough to make room, and both of his hands begin to dive beneath his clothes. Fondling his body, climbing up his sides and making their way all the way up to his chest where they cup at his pectorals—pinching and rubbing and squeezing at his erect nipples. Zhongli suddenly feels dizzy with Childe pressing against him, so close he can feel his breath on his neck, his crotch grinding against his bare, stinging ass. His breath comes out in uneven gasps as the cool air brushes against his exposed lower back.
Childe’s hand sinks all the way down to the flat expanse of his stomach, where he draws teasing, prodding circles as if to remind Zhongli of the exact spot where his cock had kissed his insides. Zhongli’s face flushes, his own cock twitching at the thought. Childe simply laughs as he feels the consultant’s heartbeat accelerate.
“Slut,” he whispers cruelly. Zhongli lets slip a muffled sob.
And then both of Childe’s hands finally drop to his thighs, squeezing the skin there, toying with his balls, running over his perineum. A finger snaps the garter against his skin—hooks into the belt, and lets go—and his body melts. His flesh is soft and warm beneath Childe's exquisite hands.
Hungry. His touch is hungry. He touches everywhere but his cock, hard and leaking, begging for attention. Zhongli’s cheeks burn as Childe feels him up like an animal being examined, denying him pleasure where he needs it most. It's degrading as Childe gropes him, feels his body, glides over skin with calloused, ungloved hands, and oh Zhongli is so so unimaginably turned on—
“Mn,” Zhongli gasps, his breath slipping out as something closer to a whine. His voice catches as a finger glides over his puckered hole. Just briefly.
Childe grabs Zhongli’s face and lifts him off his elbows, enveloping his mouth in a devouring kiss. Tasting, swallowing Zhongli. Zhongli lets himself be taken. Lets Childe have him. Their lips part, a thin trail of saliva in between, Zhongli panting delicately as he drops back to the desk.
Childe pulls back and finally turns his attention to the main course. He pushes Zhongli’s blushing cheeks apart, and Zhongli stiffens as he feels Childe circle a finger teasingly around his rim. Childe presses against his hole, finger rubbing gently against it.
…And then proceeds to not do anything.
There’s a sudden silence in the room as Zhongli gathers himself back together, taking deep breaths, waiting in bated anticipation for Childe to say something. To do something.
And then, as his head clears up, he remembers. Childe opens his mouth at that exact moment.
“What was it that you said earlier today?”
Childe will not using his own words against him—
“‘Nothing inside,’ right? What a shame.” Zhongli lets out a noise of indignation. “And I was getting so excited, too. What a delicious thing you are, I can hardly contain myself from eating you right up.”
“I guess we’ll have to just end here for today.” His hand pulls away, and a surge of fear rushes through Zhongli. He goes for the bait far too easily.
“I want you to,” Zhongli breathes, face flushing red as soon as the words leave his mouth.
“Hm? What did you say?” Childe says, the corners of his lips upturning.
…Zhongli mumbles something, embarrassed. Downright adorable, Childe thinks. He can’t see his face, but the flush runs all the way up to his ears, staining the tips bright crimson.
“Speak up,” Childe says with a smirk. “What do you want me to do?”
“To… w-want you to—want you to fuck me,” Zhongli gasps, hands cutely balled into trembling fists. Hearing that vulgarity come from Zhongli’s lips makes Childe unimaginably hard. It’s a confession, a plea, and an enticement, all in one.
“But this was your agreement, you know. I can’t just go breaking my employee’s terms like that, especially when it comes to something so—important. ‘Non-negotiable,’ was it?
“Please,” Zhongli croaks.
“Here at the Northland Bank, we like to practice respect.” Even without turning around, Zhongli can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice. It’s utterly infuriating. “You really did say that you didn’t want—”
“Childe,” Zhongli attempts to say warningly, but it comes out as more of a desperate, simpering plea. “Please—”
“So polite!” Childe sings. “But it really is too late to take it back.” He places a hand back on Zhongli’s ass, still burning and raw from the spanking, and Zhongli shakes, anger and humiliation and frustration all combined together as tears begin to form in his eyes. “I thought you understood how negotiations worked, God of Contracts.”
“We d-didn’t—it was not—I want—” Zhongli’s voice splinters off. He can’t think straight, not with Childe’s fingers teasing so torturously against his rim. Not when he’s so close. Everything feels so tightly wound inside him, he feels as though he’s going to burst.
“Please, anything. I will accept anything, just…”
“A maid begging for his master to fuck him—how inappropriate. This isn’t what I hired you for—”
“Celestia, Childe—!” Zhongli cries hot tears of frustration, cheeks growing even redder from shame, as he stutters pitifully, too caught up to string together full sentences anymore. “You cannot just—tease me, and then—just— N-need something inside me, I—y-you—”
His voice cracks. “Please—! ”
Despite Childe’s cruel teasing, both of them know they’re hurtling toward the inevitable: Zhongli lying on the desk completely fucked out, ass pumped full and dripping with Childe’s cum, and Childe with a smug, self-satisfied grin on his face. Neither of them are leaving here today without that.
Childe supposes he should just hurry up and let Zhongli have it. “Alright, alright, stay where you are. Back arched, I want to see your ass. And don’t you dare lift your elbows off the table.”
Zhongli obeys, going still. “You will stay put and take what I give you.”
Zhongli gasps as he feels one finger suddenly breach his entrance—cool and wet; one knuckle, and then two—and lets out a terrible whine of relief.
“Somehow, you feel even tighter than before,” Childe smirks. “If this is how you squeeze around a single finger—I wonder how you’ll feel around my cock.”
Zhongli throbs at that.
Childe gradually adds another finger, and it feels… vaguely uncomfortable, nothing more than a strange stretch in his behind.
And then, they curl, and pleasure suddenly shoots up Zhongli’s veins.
Childe’s fingers claw even deeper, twisting around inside him, and Zhongli spasms as Childe hits his sweet spot, the harbinger chuckling at the sight of him sucking in his fingers so greedily. His fingers continue to jab experimentally at his prostate, striking that same spot over and over until his body is writhing in pleasure.
“Mn—! Ah, Ch-childe!”
“You like that?” Childe asks, continuing to toy with his insides. Zhongli’s legs, still spread wide, knock against the desk. How easily he makes him dance. “Or is there something else you want?”
“W-want, your cock,” he gasps out. “Inside. Please.”
“So greedy,” Childe says. “I’m already giving you this, and you want more?”
“P-please,” Zhongli begs. “Please—!”
“You did a poor job today,” Childe says lazily, delivering another jab to Zhongli’s prostate that sends his body jerking. “Do you really think you deserve master’s cock?”
“Ngh— ah, h-hah—“ Childe angles his fingers, and then digs— “Childe—!”
Zhongli grips onto the table as Childe starts to go in hard, ruthlessly attacking the spot he knows he’s most sensitive until Zhongli’s entire body is shaking, face wincing in pleasure with each curl.
“Hah, ah, Ch-childe—! Ngh—! Nn, ah—!!” He claws at the table, elbows threatening to give in as with the vicious assault on his prostate. “W-want your— ough— w-want y-your cock, please—!”
A few more jabs and he collapses completely, chest pressed up against the table with his hands clawing uselessly at the wood, and Childe can tell he’s on the verge.
Childe is extremely tempted to see Zhongli cum from his fingers alone. To milk orgasm after orgasm from his twitching body until he collapses in tears, flushed red and moaning uncontrollably, fucked senseless by nothing but Childe’s hands with a filthy puddle of cum forming beneath him. At this rate, he’s sure could pull it off.
But Zhongli clearly needs to be taught a lesson in how to ask for things.
Childe pulls his fingers out, Zhongli’s hole clenching tightly around him as if trying to keep them in, and Zhongli cries out in indignation as he feels the stimulation disappear without climax.
“Childe—! Childe, please—!”
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart. Beg for it.”
“Please,” Zhongli gasps, trembling on the table. “Please, I need it. Need you inside.”
“Need? You really can’t help acting like this, hm? You love my cock. You love it when I hit you and call you a whore.” He grabs him by the ponytail, wrenching Zhongli back onto his elbows with a cry. “Admit it. You want me to fuck you raw and breed you until you can’t speak.”
“Nghnn,” Zhongli chokes.
“I want you to repeat it: you’re my whore, and my bitch. Nothing but a pretty hole for me to fuck.”
Zhongli stays quiet, a sharp sob escaping his lips as Childe slaps his hole with his fingers. “If you want to keep playing this waiting game, I’m willing to indulge you.”
“Please.” It’s a high pitched and desperate whine, one that puts experienced courtesans to shame. “Fuck me! Please!”
“You think you can give me orders?” His hand comes down again, and Zhongli yelps again, his pretty pink cock shifting between his legs.
“N-no, no!” Zhongli stutters. “No!”
“What are you, Zhongli?” Childe asks, suddenly growing calm. “I’ll give you one last chance.”
“I—” Zhongli’s breath catches, face flushing red from the humiliation. It’s too much, but he has to say it—! He closes his eyes, trying not to think about the burning shame climbing through his entire being. “I’m your—”
“Y-your whore,” he rasps. “Just your whore, your slut—nothing m-more than a hole for you to fuck, just a pretty hole for you to use—”
A giant grin crawls across Childe’s face.
“I love it wh-when you—hit me—” —tears spill down his face— “when you b-bend me over, fuck me, fill me up— please, Childe, please, use me, I'll be good for you, I want— no, n-need—”
Childe grabs him tightly around the waist, yanking their bodies together, and Zhongli screams as Childe impales him all the way with just one rough thrust, his cock forcing its way through his walls and ramming right into his core. And fuck, it feels good, the pain a sharp reminder of Childe’s beautifully unhinged strength when he finally loses control.
Zhongli keens, clutching at his own sleeves, as Childe shifts back and drives his hips in with such force that Zhongli can feel his stomach bulging outward.
Drool spills from his lips, all sensations assaulting him at once. The pleasure is so powerful he momentarily whites out. The burn, the stretch— it’s exactly what he’s been hungering for, he realizes with a start. Childe grabs his ass and fucks him hard, hammering against his prostate like he wants to ruin him.
Childe’s hips snap against Zhongli’s, thick cock plunging into his heat, Zhongli knocking against the desk as he pounds rhythmically against his flesh. He spears him wide open, viciously digging inside with everything he has, until Zhongli is on the road to utter collapse.
“Mnn, hah, h-hah, h-hah—”
Zhongli bites down to stop his moans from escaping, saliva pooling in his mouth, dark hair clinging stickily to his forehead. Childe strikes him where he’s most sensitive, already well-experienced with his body, and Zhongli is utterly defenseless as Childe grabs him around the waist and uses him. Fucking his tight hole over and over and over.
His vision blurs from the pleasure, everything blending together in a single delicious, hot pool of sensation.
“Zhongli…” Childe says sweetly, his own words almost drowned out by the sound of his cries. “You’re pathetic.” He suddenly releases one of the hands around his hips and raises into the air, bringing it down against Zhongli’s ass with a loud smack. Zhongli almost jumps at the unexpected pain, hole suddenly clenching even more tightly around Childe’s cock. “You think your punishment is over just because you learned how to beg?”
“Ngh,” Zhongli moans. “Mn, hhah, nguh—!”
It only takes a few more strikes for the pain to send Zhongli cresting over the edge , white spilling onto his skirt as a loud cry rips from his throat. Zhongli buries his face into his sleeves, already soaked with sweat, as he feels Childe’s own hot burst of come flooding his insides.
“Bad boy,” Childe pants. “Soiling your nice clothes, after I worked so hard to provide them for you.”
“Ngh… nn,” Zhongli gasps, drooling. “I, I’m sorry…”
“It looks like I’ll have to punish you again for that—” Childe lowers his voice— “By fucking you until you can’t walk.”
That sends a horrid shiver of delight down Zhongli’s spine.
“—But you love the idea of that, hm? It can hardly even be considered a punishment for you.” Childe yanks Zhongli’s ponytail roughly. “Get up. Off the table, dog.”
Zhongli lifts himself off on shaking legs, and Childe turns him around, pushing him back onto the desk with his back facing it this time. “Y-yes,“ Zhongli gasps, “Ah—”
“Legs up.” Childe is already pulling his skirt back up around his waist, having Zhongli raise his legs and push himself backwards until he’s laying down fully on the desk. Childe pushes both knees all the way to his chest, folding Zhongli in half.
“Hold them there,” he orders. “Spread yourself for me.”
Zhongli obliges, grabbing onto his legs with shaky hands.
There’s a moment of stillness as Childe stands there, watching him present himself, Zhongli’s cheeks burning as he holds himself vulnerable in this degrading position. His reddening hole, already well-fucked, is completely exposed to Childe.
Ripe for his taking. Childe sees his come dripping out of Zhongli, and he suddenly feels a possessive urge to keep it inside of him. He presses his hands against Zhongli’s thighs and rocks back in, pressing the tip of his cock against his glistening rim.
Suddenly, he seems so small.
Zhongli almost lets go of his knees as Childe slams back in again, back arching straight off the desk as Childe thrusts all the way to the hilt. Zhongli’s head slams backwards with a thud as he gasps out, saliva spilling from his glistening lips.
Childe grins in exhilaration, wanting to see another reaction just like that. He pushes Zhongli’s legs even further back, slamming himself inside, fucking into his greedy hole harder and deeper and faster until Zhongli is gasping for breath, expression dizzy with unbelievable pleasure. Wet slapping noises fill the air as he rams in brutally, filling him up over and over, hips driving forward with insatiable hunger.
It feels incredible, Childe thinks. Like Zhongli was made just for him.
“Ungh!” Zhongli gasps out, head pressed back against the desk. “Unh, ah— unh, ah, hah, ah—!!”
The pace of his thrusts accelerate, Zhongli’s brain melting as he can focus on nothing but the way Childe throws his full weight into each thrust, each one pounding his guts until he can think of nothing but the pleasure that rips through his being. He moans, tears pricking his eyes, fingers trembling as he continues to hold his legs spread apart for Childe. The man is merciless. He fucks Zhongli like there won’t be a next time (perhaps, there won’t be), and tears spill down Zhongli’s face, hot and wet, as Childe fucks him utterly stupid.
“Ngh—!!” Zhongli cries out, writhing as Childe strikes his prostate again. “Mngh—ah, hah, hah…!!”
“Don’t let go now, beautiful.” Zhongli wouldn’t dare. He keeps his legs spread open for Childe obediently, even as his eyes fill with tears and spit dribbles down his chin.
“I still haven’t forgiven you for everything,” Childe says, sweat dripping down his face from exertion. Zhongli blinks back tears, trying to stay focused as the cock ramming into his prostate sends him into euphoric bliss. “But look at you, now. Spreading your legs for me like a cheap slut, sucking in my cock so eagerly. Serving me.”
He slams in again. Zhongli chokes on his own spit, glistening amber eyes rolling back. “Mngh—ough—y-yes, yes—”
“It’s no wonder I couldn’t figure out you were Rex Lapis. Not when you act like this— a dirty, desperate, depraved, whore, throwing his body at the very first enemy Fatui he sees.”
“Mngh… ah, ah…!!”
Childe strikes his prostate with ruthless precision, each powerful thrust finding its way, never-ending waves of pleasure rolling through Zhongli’s body like the tides of the ocean. Before he can recover, the next one arrives, driving him under. He shakes uncontrollably, drowning in pleasure as Childe pushes deeper and deeper, faster and faster and harder, each thrust ripping wild cries from his throat.
“Ah, ah…! Ah, mngh, hah—gah, hah, mmn—! H-hah, ah~!!”
“So desperate for my cock. Your body loves it. It’s like you can’t get enough of me—!”
He babbles incoherently as Childe wrenches desperate gasps from him with each thrust. Zhongli’s eyes roll back, mind falling entirely out of it as pleasure floods through every crevice in his body—pooling deep inside him, filling him up—
And Zhongli comes again, hard, thick white ropes spilling all over his chest, smearing into his white apron and dirtying the fabric, the orgasm hitting his whole body with such intensity that he’s momentarily paralyzed from the electric sparks seizing his body. Zhongli barely manages to register that this voice he’s hearing is his own, screaming until his voice breaks out.
He still holds onto his legs through it all, trembling and spasming, knees threatening to break through the grip of his quivering fingers. His expression—it’s glorious, Childe thinks. His eyes fluttering, mouth half-open, strands of saliva stretching between his lips. Tears remain wet on his cheeks, decorating the beautiful pink with glistening droplets.
He soaks in the sight, wanting to never let it go. Zhongli; wrecked. All for him. Just for him.
“What an obedient maid,” Childe says, pulling out. Small mewls tumble from Zhongli as the aftershocks seize his body. “It looks like you really took the punishment to heart.” He gently tugs Zhongli’s hands away from his knees, giving him permission to let go, and Zhongli’s arms fall limply to his sides, slender legs spreading around Childe’s waist.
Childe squeezes his cock, another bead of cum dribbling down from the tip. “Mnh,” Zhongli groans, writhing to get away from his grasp.
“You really look so defenseless right now, xiansheng.” Childe reaches for his face with his other hand, wiping away some of the drool on his chin. That fucked-out expression on his face continues to tremble as Zhongli takes deep breaths, in, and then out.
“I could break you so easily.” Zhongli’s back arches helplessly as he pumps his hand up his cock, a cry spilling from his lips as the overstimulation jolts through his body.
“But,” Childe says quietly, “it looks like you aren’t even afraid of me.”
Childe strokes his cock again, merciless, refusing to let go even as a choked sob erupts from Zhongli. Weak and shattered and broken.
“Mnn—! Ngh, h-hah, stop—!”
Childe releases him, and Zhongli collapses back down, letting out an ugly gasp of relief.
“...I really hate you,” Childe says, eyes suddenly gleaming. “You know that, Zhongli?” The look in his face becomes dangerous, his voice gaining a knife’s edge. “I know you don’t take me seriously.”
Zhongli blinks at the ceiling with a dazed expression, still visibly out of it. “Hah… nghm, wh-what do you…”
Childe grabs Zhongli’s weakened legs and lifts them back over his shoulders, bending forward until Zhongli is folded in half beneath him. Even in his haze, Zhongli’s eyes widen as he feels the tip of Childe’s cock rocking back against his hole, ready for another round.
“I’m telling you not to underestimate me,” Childe says dangerously.
“I don’t—“ Zhongli hiccups, voice cracking as he grabs weakly for Childe’s hands, his trembling body screaming for him to push Childe away— “I don’t, h-hah, underestimate you, Childe—“
Childe slowly pushes the tip in. Zhongli whimpers weakly, still batting at his chest. Childe doesn’t budge an inch.
Then, he rams the rest of the way inside, and Zhongli screams, torn apart by the sensation of his fucked-out body forcefully filled back up to the brim. Childe snaps his hips again, fucking into Zhongli’s hole with such intensity that his back slams against the desk.
“W-wait—!” Zhongli cries aloud, thick tears welling in his eyes, “I—ah, h-hah—I don’t—“
“Shut up.” Childe grips his ankles tightly and holds onto them as he drives his cock into Zhongli’s slick heat. Childe ravages him, pounding into his hole until he’s blubbering from the overstimulation, voice garbled and desperate as his body jerks beneath.
“Ah! Ah!! Ough, h-hah, augh, hah!!!”
His head bounces against the back of the desk, expression wild and back finely arched. He looks lewd with his mouth hanging open like that, pink tongue visible and saliva dripping down his chin. He’s a thorough mess, and yet—
“You do underestimate me, Zhongli,” Childe pants. “You always think you have everything under control. Even now—”
Zhongli spasms, toes curling as another thrust delivered to his prostate sends bursts of electricity sparking painfully through his body. Tears spill down his face, Childe pushing his legs even further apart as he fucks him open with the intention to ruin him.
“Even now, I feel like you’re still making fun of me.”
“Mngh, ngh, ah…!!” Zhongli claws at Childe’s chest, taking desperate gulps of air. “No, it’s n-not… I d-don’t…! Nmgh—!! Ngh, mngh!”
—Childe wants Zhongli to feel him.
He wants to pour a part of himself into Zhongli and make sure he never forgets who he is. Childe wants Zhongli to memorize this, memorize him.
Childe thrusts back back in, bending over Zhongli until he’s writhing from the sensation of his oversensitive cock rubbing against Childe’s stomach. He’s gasping for breath, eyes blown wide with tears, drooling and overwhelmed and helpless as another broken sob slips from his throat.
That familiar urge suddenly takes hold of Childe. He slows down, looking calmly at Zhongli, who’s whimpering, clawing at him, jerking beneath his body.
“Let me choke you,” he rasps. “I’m going to choke you.”
Zhongli looks back up at him, beautiful golden eyes brimming with tears—and, even in his haze, he nods. (—Why? Childe watches his neck bob as he swallows, so beautiful and delicate, with abject disgust.)
His hands snap down, wrapping tightly around his neck, and Zhongli looks at his precarious expression with his face flushed, brow furrowed in pain. Not good enough. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of his throat, and Zhongli lets out a strangled noise, face contorting and lashes fluttering.
That’s what Childe wants to see. A struggle for survival. He thrusts in several more times, snapping his hips with increasing ferocity, relishing the agonized look on Zhongli’s face.
Childe keeps on fucking him, using him, all while his hands are wrapped around Zhongli’s throat, his body nothing but a beautiful, tight hole for him to fuck, wet and sloppy and warm and inviting. Zhongli tightens around him each time he squeezes, barely even present anymore with his eyes rolled back and wetness tracking all over his face. It feels so hot, so good, so right.
It’s downright addicting.
He's beautiful. He's gorgeous.
How could he ever have anyone but Zhongli, after this?
Several more thrusts with them wrapped together, and that final clench causes Childe to release, his cum flooding into Zhongli’s pliant, trembling, body. He finally lets go as Zhongli starts to claw at the hands around his neck.
…Childe can tell he means it.
Zhongli’s dark head slumps back against the desk and he seizes, gasping painfully for air as he rakes his trembling hands against the wood. It’s horribly unbecoming, pathetic and monstrous all at once. And Childe lets out a deep, deep breath he didn’t know he was holding as he pulls Zhongli’s skirt back over the mess he’s made.
A curtain drawn over the chaos of the final scene. Even fully-clothed, now, Zhongli looks like a fucked-out wreck—clothes covered in wrinkles, a thick sheen of sweat and tears shimmering down his face and neck. Childe had pulled him to the brink of consciousness and back, after all. His eyes are still rolled back, snot and saliva dripping from his mouth and nose.
Childe walks to the other side of the room to pour him a drink of water, giving Zhongli a few moments to himself. What a terrible fiasco it would be if the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor’s consultant was found unconscious in his office, Childe thinks with dark amusement, dressed as a maid with bruises around his throat and cum dripping from his ass.
He places the cup beside Zhongli and takes a seat nearby, trying to cement that image of Zhongli in his brain for safekeeping. He’s snapped out of his reverie by the sound of him stirring, coughing. Zhongli pushes himself weakly onto his elbows. Sits back up on his side to avoid putting pressure on the tender skin of his behind, carefully raising the cup to his lips with still-shaking hands.
At the sight of him wiping his face off with his apron, gently nursing the marks at his throat, something else suddenly takes hold of Childe—a darker, sickening feeling in his gut he can no longer ignore.
“You weren’t afraid at all, were you?” Childe says, softly. Zhongli looks at him. “Or you wouldn’t let me do it to begin with. Even I think you’re smarter than that, Zhongli. If you wanted to stop me, I’m sure you could.”
The fantasy is over. Zhongli lets out a soft noise like a hum, indistinct and meaningless.
“You’re not afraid that I’m after some kind of revenge?” Childe hisses. “That I’ll snap your neck? Choke you to death? Rape your corpse and leave you out to dry? I can do all of those things, and then more. I can ruin you, Zhongli.”
Childe knows he didn’t really have to ask Zhongli for permission—he could have just grabbed his pretty neck, wrung it right there—but he asked, anyway. Because Zhongli had told him to.
He swallows, involuntarily, suddenly wanting to forget it all. “Why did you come back? Are you a fool?” he spits. “What reason could you possibly have to trust me?”
Zhongli combs his hair out of his eyes, wiping away his sweat, and even now Childe can’t stop feeling himself consumed with how pretty he is, his dark eyelashes fluttering back open, lips red-bitten and kissable. It’s unfair. (He wants to keep it all for himself, forever.)
“You have no intention to get rid of me,” Zhongli says hoarsely. “Not yet. You would not— would not ruin me for good.”
“And how do you know that?”
Zhongli sighs, still catching his breath. “Because you still want something from me.” He closes his eyes. “Desire is a powerful thing.”
…Is that all? Desire?
Childe stares at him, deep blue eyes narrowing to slits. And then, he laughs.
“I do, Zhongli. I do want something from you.” He bares his teeth, smiling. There is no warmth in it. “I want to see you beg for me. I want to capture you, use you, lay you down and claim you. I want to rip you apart. Devour you. Burn myself into your skin, your body, until you never forget who I am.”
I want to crumble your stone-solid composure to dust until I see the rawest core within, the human you’d never shown me.
“Then I will indulge you,” Zhongli says, as if what Childe said had been childish and immature, the words of someone who would come to regret them. "If that is what you want."
Indulge? What was he to Zhongli, some spoiled brat? Even now, he wants to act so high and mighty. “You have my gratitude,” Childe says mockingly.
The look of confusion on Zhongli’s face persists as he places the apron to the side, something so naive and innocent it makes Childe want to puke. “I do not mean to ridicule you. I do not—do not understand why you believe that I mean to disrespect you so.”
“Of course you don’t.” Childe shakes his head. “You never did. Fantastic work today. Go change. I’ll leave the room, give you some privacy—”
“The ink spill,” Zhongli starts, gesturing at the floor. “Such material is difficult to clean, you should—”
The ink spill? Did Zhongli really think that mattered? Childe summons a draft of water and sweeps it up, dumping the dark water into the tin bucket he’d handed to Zhongli. “There. You don’t need to worry. Now, go change.”
“You ask why I come back,” Zhongli calls. Childe continues to storm out. “I come back because I— I desire something from you as well,” he hears him say, right as he slams the door shut behind him.
Childe pretends not to be affected, but he mulls over those words, too.
What could a god possibly want from him, he sneers, besides devotion and eternal servitude?
Even with his hands around Zhongli’s throat, he still felt like a pawn.
…Zhongli was right. Childe is burning with want.
There is too much Childe wants from Zhongli to ever just let him go, even as a small voice in the back of his head warns him to get away before it’s far too late. The closer he gets, the more twisted his feelings become. He feels infected with the way he desires him, sick with the way he yearns for his attention.
He wants to ruin this man so badly, crack that dignified facade to reach for the core beneath. The core that begs for him, gets on his knees to please him. He wants to make it real.
He wants; he wants; he wants.
He imagines pulling Zhongli onto his knees. The consultant sucking his cock, a heated expression of want in his eyes as Childe’s fist bunches in his hair. Collared, on all fours, eating from a bowl at his feet. Arms bound behind his back, body bound with all sorts of pretty knots and ribbons just for him.
Zhongli’s ethereal eyes, the lock of orange-tinted hair that sways by his face, that familiar earring that hangs on his left ear.
Affection, a kind smile. The tears that drip down his cheeks when Childe makes him feel good. His face contorted in pain, sweat glistening on his nose and brow. The tears that drip down his cheeks when Childe makes him feel bad.
He thrills, imagining Zhongli broken at his feet, clawing at him for mercy. He wants Zhongli to surrender everything to him.
(There are other fantasies, less destructive, but Childe refuses to dwell on them.)
Childe sighs, covering his eyes. His breath feels heavy in his chest. He’s letting Zhongli get in his head.
But if the man is offering himself to him, he won’t be one to deny the chance. Because he likes it. He likes it a lot, he thinks. He wants to do it again. Childe goes dizzy thinking about what comes next, imagining Zhongli’s wonderful, pliant body in his hands, the lengths he might go to please him.
…He swears he’s going to be the one to break him. They have all the time in the world.
ヽ(*・ω・)ﾉ it, ah, sounded less dark in the notes. it gets better from here (for now.)
Chapter 3: tied up and tied down
Somewhere along the line, it becomes a habit.
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Somewhere along the line, it becomes a habit.
Zhongli shows up, Childe supplies some ludicrous garment straight out of a fetish magazine, and then they fuck in it. Afterward, Childe wires the mora directly to his account. Simple, straight, and dirty.
Sometimes, Zhongli arrives well-prepared—a small anal plug or a full set of lingerie tucked beneath his uniform, heat burning in his cheeks and hole ripe for the taking—and other times, Childe enjoys watching him strip completely, spreading himself on his slender fingers and presenting his ass with obscene grandeur. Zhongli realizes soon enough that it’s all a show, and who is he to do a job halfway?
He grasps the harbinger’s desires quickly enough. Offering not just his body, but his mind and will—and Childe savors it, savors each and every minute he spends breaking his spirit.
Zhongli savors it. What a weakness it is, to be so vulnerable to pleasure.
Zhongli holds on for dear life, held up by nothing but the hands gripping his ass, as each jerk of Childe’s hips sends his cock ramming into his stomach. He feels utterly full—choking around the length impaling him, hardly able to breathe—but Childe somehow slides in and out with almost no resistance at all, sending Zhongli's back slamming against the wall with each thrust.
“Nn,” he moans, fingers raking across Childe’s back, “Nnn, mngah, hah—”
Childe pounds into his slick heat through the hole ripped in his tights and Zhongli clings to him heatedly, desperately, rolling his own hips downward as though he wants to fuck himself on Childe’s cock each time he drives himself inside. Childe can feel his needy hole clench around him with each thrust. It’s downright maddening.
“Childe!” they hear Ekaterina call from right outside the door, a mere matter of inches away. Zhongli’s breath catches, fingers digging tensely into Childe’s skin.
“Did you imagine her watching us?” Childe murmurs, delivering another mind-shattering thrust with ease. “I felt you tighten around me, just then.”
Zhongli lets out an involuntary moan, a pitiful and broken noise. Struggling to even form words of response as Childe continues to drag his dick through his slick walls over and over, driving him mad with the fullness and friction.
“Won’t even deny it, hm?” Childe chuckles. “Slut.”
He’s extremely sure he felt Zhongli clench down around him, just then.
The delicious echo of Zhongli’s voice muffles when Childe leans forward and presses their mouths together, swirling his tongue into the consultant’s mouth until his eyes go half-lidded with heat.
Childe doesn’t stop or slow down, even as their guest’s cries grow impatient. “Lord Harbinger! An urgent matter requires your assistance!”
—He’s the first to break off. Zhongli twists his head away forcefully, strands of saliva dripping stickily down his chin as he gasps for breath, still stretched thoroughly full on his length. “Childe, I think she is—hah, calling for you. You should g-go— Mmnph!”
Childe silences him with another sloppy kiss, Zhongli moaning into his mouth as he continues to rut inside, and Childe releases him with a rough nip along his lower lip.
“Unimportant,” Childe scoffs. “Ignore her.”
Zhongli squeezes his eyes shut, hot tears leaking from the corners. Shuddering as he hears the lewd squelching of Childe fucking his own come in and out of his gaping hole. Childe keeps him pinned to the wall, breath ragged with exertion, fingers squeezing so tightly around his ass he’s sure he’ll wake with bruises on his skin.
He leans in closer and they continue without a word, Zhongli’s eyes clouding over with electric pleasure as the harbinger fucks him with renewed urgency.
Slick from the previous round drips out deliciously each time he slides out, staining the insides of Zhongli’s thighs white. The black stockings clutch tightly around his slender legs. His pretty pink mouth, drooling and gasping, drips sticky with saliva. His very appearance is suggestive—begging to be taken. He looks like Childe’s slut, his precious whore, just a piece of meat to be fucked and used. All he needs is a little collar with his name on it to mark him as his, and he’s sure his master wouldn’t hesitate to supply it.
Childe wrests his legs apart and fucks him to his heart’s content.
...Ekaterina’s calls fall away totally, completely ignored, and it’s hours before she’s able to get another peep out of the Eleventh’s office.
“Sir! I know you’re in there!”
( Somewhere along the line, it becomes a habit, far too quickly and far too easily for Zhongli’s comfort.)
His eyes are the first thing Zhongli notices. The boy winks, hand outstretched, but those pools of blue remain lifeless even as a wolfish grin tugs at the corner of his lips. “It’s so wonderful to meet you, Zhongli-xiansheng.” The contrast with his handsome features and vibrant personality is horrific and endearing, all at once.
The first time he sees him look truly alive is with a blade to a beast’s neck. So this is the boy the Tsaritsa has sent. He slices it off in one, clean motion, blood splattering across his chest as it rolls lifelessly to the floor. His eyes gleam as he looks back at his host, sharp teeth bared in victory.
Zhongli is rarely ever startled, let alone frightened. Yet, somehow, the spark in his eyes makes him look even less human than before.
“When I used to picture you on your knees before me, trembling and weeping…” Childe breathes, “it wasn’t always like this.”
He tightens his grip in Zhongli’s hair as he laps at his cock, a hungry and desperate look in his eyes. His technique is sloppy—something he’d hardly attribute to Zhongli, Liyue’s premier, perfect in everything—but he makes up for it with his enthusiasm. And oh, of course, how pretty he looks taking him in his mouth.
That glassy look in his eyes as he peers through half-lidded irises, pure molten gold and phoenix fire, is worth all the mora in the world. As Childe cums down his twitching throat, hand wrapped firmly around the base of his neck, he makes sure the funeral parlor consultant drinks down every, last, drop.
Those biting words echo, at the back of Zhongli’s mind: ‘This isn’t for reconciliation, or anything like that. It’s a business exchange. A job.’
Childe once spoke of his family with stars in his eyes. Now, the man wears a constant mask: aggressively defensive, ever on his guard, determined to pin him beneath his feet or ruin him trying. Zhongli has hurt him, and he will not let control slip from him ever again.
Childe wants to make him suffer. Wants him presented on a silver platter, so that he may slowly pick him apart and devour him. His desire for him is obvious—they both desire each other, that much is true—but Zhongli would be delusional to call either of their feelings love, even as he pulls Childe down into his shaking arms.
Hate is too crude a word. Childe hurts him because he wants him, and Zhongli shuts his eyes and lets him. Perhaps the closest he can get to the kind of twisted desire Childe experiences is obsession.
The days of their friendship are long over.
(‘I’m not the one seeking reconciliation, here. If you want to make it up to me, you can start by putting that on.’ It stings, to know he’s still so below Childe’s forgiveness.)
This isn’t the companionship either of them truly desire, but they’ll take what they can get. An exchange, Zhongli realizes. That’s exactly what this is.
“What I require from you,” Childe murmurs, “is absolute obedience.”
Zhongli nods, shivering. The bells clamped to his nipples tinkle faintly, and his cheeks flush red with heat as he feels Childe’s burning gaze fix on him.
“Move from this spot, and you won’t be walking out of here today. Understand?”
Zhongli closes his eyes in silent assent. He has to bite his tongue to stop himself from shaking, with how hard his cock strains against the fabric of his pants. “Yes, master.”
Master. The feeling of the word rolling off his tongue sends a thrill down his spine.
“Then let us begin.”
Zhongli should not attempt to fool himself. He knows he should not be here. And yet he finds himself drawn back to that man, an addictive feeling he cannot quit.
When was the last time someone had attempted to force him to his knees, let alone succeeded?
When was the last time someone had caressed him so intimately?
He’s haunted by the sensation of Childe’s hands wrapped firmly around his length, pumping out orgasm after orgasm until his dick cries raw. He’s haunted by how good Childe feels inside, buried so deep he can hardly breathe. He fills him again and again and he can never get enough. He writhes and cries and begs and wallows, control wrested from him so thoroughly he forgets himself.
He has no obligation to stay, but he wants to. A little fire pools in his gut as he thinks of those calloused hands wrapped around the parts humans deem most vulnerable, and he comes back for more.
Childe, Childe, oh Childe.
Their contract will remain a little longer. Neither of them have had their fill.
Childe has Zhongli stripped to nothing, sitting in front of his desk at the center of the room.
Red ropes keep Zhongli bound to his chair, severely limiting his movement. The tight knots force his spine into an arch, and the harness around his ribcage accentuates the shape of his body in a way that cannot be described as anything but lewd . His thighs are spread wide for Childe’s view, milky against the crimson binds, ankles tied tightly to the legs of the furniture. Zhongli swallows, legs trembling, as the ropes lock him into sheer submission.
The cloth over his eyes helps to envelope his mind in nothingness. Like a sculpture, or a piece of pottery, a fine work of art on private display, Zhongli sits—blind to the world around him, bindings digging into soft flesh each time he moves, to be looked at and ogled but not touched.
A riptide mark glows blue below his stomach. Cum again, Childe had said, and you will be punished. The three-pronged sigil sits there in wait, ready to spring the instant Zhongli shows weakness, and Zhongli knows Childe shows no mercy in his punishments.
What’s most maddening, naturally, is the thick vibrator shoved deep in his ass, stuck on the same setting for ages as it toys mercilessly with Zhongli until he’s left writhing, pushed to the brink of orgasm but not quite allowed to spill. With his senses blocked off completely, Zhongli has become prisoner to sensation, tortured by the constant stream of stimulation and the terrifying need for release.
Zhongli’s head snaps upward, his lovely, pale chest heaving up and down. He tries to push himself away, to lessen the pressure on his sweet spot. Cries of desperation spill from his pretty, pretty lips. At times like these, Childe is both grateful and sorry for the soundproofing.
—On one hand, he wants the whole bank to know Zhongli belongs to him. Consultant turned cockslut, reduced to nothing more than a pretty whore at his feet. If people could see the way he begged for Childe’s cock, snot and saliva all over his divine countenance, they’d know what their lovely Archon was really like.
On the other, it allows him to keep his pretty body on display like this as much as he likes, not a soul bothering them as his sound resounds ever-so-sweetly throughout the room.
For now, he’ll take the latter. I can last, Zhongli had bit out. How long has it been, now?
…To Zhongli’s credit, he took it quite well at first. Expression unbothered (arrogant) as usual, save for the faint flush spreading across his cheeks. Perched on his seat like a king, squirming nearly imperceptibly. How quickly he was humbled by his own body’s reaction. That first orgasm hit quietly, his mouth opening in a shuddering, noiseless gasp as come splattered over his stomach.
After that, he was easy pickings.
Childe can see his muscles tensing beneath the ropes now, feet flexing and toes curling as small tremors run up his thighs. That stuffy look wiped clean from his face, cute noises squeaking out against his will.
He really does enjoy watching him squirm.
“Childe, p-please, please—ough—!”
He sounds pathetic, the calm tenor of his voice now wet and ruined. How tempted Childe is to leave the door open just a crack, let the filthy sound of his voice creep into the hallways.
“Ngh—! Ah, oh… ah…”
But no—these sights and sounds are for him, and him alone.
Zhongli’s shaking his head back and forth, drool dripping down his chin, rocking his hips in a pathetic attempt to escape the stimulation. It only causes him to grind harder against the vibrator, pushing him toward the fatal edge.
He moans, voice cracking, another broken noise slipping from his lips. The toy remains at the same setting as the start—once pleasant, easily enjoyable, now cruel and unforgiving.
“Need to cum,” he whimpers. “N-need— C-can’t—can’t hold on, please—”
Childe watches with his hand on his cheek, eager to see Zhongli finally give in. If anything, he should be commended for not ending this mockery of a game right here and now. Especially when he looks like that, so needy and wrecked and desperate.
“—Childe, please,” Zhongli begs, voice cracking at the last syllable. “Please! I—ngh, ah—c-can’t— I’m g-going to— Childe, I— fuck me, oh, please fuck me, I—!”
A broken sob, as Zhongli begins to tremble uncontrollably. Childe loves seeing him like this, wrecked without him needing to lift a single finger. Begging for Childe to lay his hands on him. Zhongli knows he could simply come at any moment if he wished, pushing against the vibrator and letting himself spill, but the threat of Childe’s penalty looms menacingly. And so his predicament continues.
His chest heaves so prettily with his back arched like that. How easy it would be to reach a hand forward and run his fingers along that soft flesh, pluck at those trembling buds until they grow puffy and swollen. “A tempting offer,” Childe beams. “But I think I’ll wait a bit longer before I claim my prize.”
The pretty consultant utterly at his mercy, helpless before him—oh, this is all he’s ever wanted.
Zhongli quivers as Childe gets up and steps toward him quietly, a cruel smirk on his lips.
Zhongli jerks when two sets of fingers grab his perky, erect, nipples. His entire body rocks into his touch, an unseemly noise escaping his mouth, as Childe rubs his fingers over the nubs and releases them with a vicious tweak. Pulls at them, letting the skin slip beneath his fingers with each ruthless pinch.
“Childe! Ngh— please—”
“Sensitive, huh?” Childe remarks, alternating between flicking them with his fingers and rotating them in small circles. Zhongli nearly jumps from the seat with how hard he’s twitching. Would jump, if the ropes keeping him bound didn’t contain the fluttering of his muscles.
“Ah— s-stop, no, n- mnnh—!”
“What a whore, this affected from having your nipples played with. You want more, hm? Harder? Faster?”
“P-please,” Zhongli continues to choke out. “No, p-please, Childe, I n-need—need to—c-can’t, can’t, nonono—”
A scream tumbles from his mouth as Zhongli feels two objects clamp tightly around his nipples, cutting off the rest of his plea. It hurts. They squeeze down on his flesh, bitter and hard, so unlike the hot, bruising warmth he so desperately craves inside.
"Ah, h-ha... ah..."
Childe watches as Zhongli writhes miserably in his seat, desperate for friction and yet fearful of it. Soft, wet whines release from red-bitten lips. The chains at the edges of the clamps dance on his flesh as he moves—pretty little ornaments, for his pretty pink nipples.
He looks good in them, Childe thinks. Like a show animal, all dressed to entertain. “Not yet, xiansheng.” Childe tugs gently at one of the clamps, eliciting a broken whimper. “I think I like this view too much.”
Zhongli lets out a half-choked sob.
It’s torture. Not knowing whether he’ll tease Zhongli further, or finally release the seal and let him cum. Whether he’s watching his every movement, deliberately ignoring his pleas, or if he’s really just forgetting about him, letting him scrape his dignity dry for nothing—
(Please, he’s so close, he—!!)
Zhongli turns to where he thinks his tormenter might be standing, crying hot tears of frustration. Childe pats Zhongli on the head and goes back to his desk.
“Nuh-no—no, Childe, I c-can’t, p-please—!”
“Unh… ah, h-hah—“
Childe can hear the toy running all the way from here, pushing around inside Zhongli. He smiles to think what it must be doing to him now, so far into the game.
“N-no, no, p-please, Childe, I c-can’t—”
He squeezes out another whimper, weeping, lips quivering and shoulders trembling. Childe finishes writing up his last report to the sounds of Zhongli’s choked-out moans, impressed at the man’s tenacity. It looks like he really didn’t want to suffer his punishment.
Zhongli hiccups at his return, pressing his wet cheek against his gloved palm receptively. “Childe…! Ch-childe…ngh, oh—p-please…”
Zhongli feels Childe’s lips on his own, licking salty tears from his skin, and he gasps pleasurably before—Zhongli suddenly feels hands on his shoulders pushing him down, deeper, further onto the vibrator, and it quickly becomes panic.
It seems to stir even harder inside, stretching his walls forcefully with its hard, immutable thickness. Zhongli’s bare ass rubs against the smoothness of the chair, warm from the heat of his body. He almost comes on the spot, right then and there, as it forces just a bit deeper than he thought possible…
A hand tilts his jaw back and Childe’s tongue begins to roam inside his mouth, muffling whatever complaints he might have had otherwise. He’s thrown off balance, solid ground pulled from beneath him, swept up in the waves of his warmth.
As then, as if that wasn’t enough already, he feels a hand around his cock. Rough and heavy, calloused fingers wrapped around his length.
Zhongli rolls his hips desperately, moaning as he feels the toy dig further into his prostate, but his cock remains firmly in Childe’s grasp. In fact, the friction only causes his member to react with further interest.
“Nuh,” he gasps, as Childe’s lips and tongue remain firmly locked with his, “Ngh, nhh—”
Childe finally releases and Zhongli takes in a small, wet gasp for breath, burying his head in the crook of Childe’s neck as the harbinger advances forward. “Five seconds,” Childe says, lip curling sadistically. His finger brushes over the sensitive tip of his cock, and Zhongli’s body bucks in feverish want, feverish panic, as he tries not to let the thought of Childe’s hands on him overtake his mind.
“If you can last for five seconds, I’ll spare you. Five—”
Childe thumbs the slit, where he knows Zhongli is most sensitive. Nothing too harsh, but enough for Zhongli to feel the sensation shoot through his whole body. It’s the thought that ruins his focus, the taste of Childe still lingering on his lips—
He lets out a raw sob, clenching his teeth furiously as Childe keeps him pinned to the vibrator grinding inside him. “Ngh, nn—”
It’s delicious. It’s too much.
“No, no, nngh—“
He can’t hold on any longer.
It’s overwhelming. All the buildup uncoils at once, and the release slams into Zhongli so hard he feels as though he’s about to white out. So vicious, it feels as though he’s been ripped open, the razor-sharp edge of pain replaced by excruciating pleasure instead.
His head falls back, chest quivering, as pleasure consumes everything. He can’t see anything, can’t hear anything, only registers the sheer sensation of orgasm as everything floods out at once and his mind goes blank. He can barely process his own lecherous moans, or the way his back arches impossibly in indefinable ecstasy.
He rides out the remainder in a mindless daze, jerking in his seat with each tremble, still strapped against the chair that’s kept him prisoner for so torturously long. Childe yanks the clamps off and Zhongli cries out, the sharp pain against his swollen nipples enough to push him back into alertness.
He barely takes a single breath of relief, soaking in the comfort of absolute release, before he remembers. Zhongli’s eyes widen behind the blindfold, heart dropping into the pit of his stomach.
“Just two—no, one second left,” Childe sighs. “So close.”
And then comes the punishment.
The riptide mark floods a second round of pleasure into his body, already battered from the first, until he’s convulsing, writhing against his binds like he’s being electrocuted. It slams into his body so hard he feels himself briefly pass out, pleasure surging through every vein and muscle as it seeks to destroy him from the inside out.
It feels so good it hurts. His eyes roll back, wide open behind the blindfold, throat hoarse as the pleasure rips into him over and over until he’s forcibly carried through another orgasm. Too much, too much, he’s going to pass out, going to break—it really is too much, he’s going to—
He can’t get away. It’s like the pleasure is coming from inside him, violating him, breaking him open as he loses all control of his body. He can’t feel himself. His mind is blank. He’s utterly helpless in Childe’s grasp and it feels extraordinary.
The scorching pleasure obliterates him thoroughly, and he doesn’t realize how hard he’s clenching his fists, how hard his toes are curling, until that overwhelming stimulation finally, finally begins to dissipate, and he understands what mercy is.
“Ngrh,” he gasps, noises gurgling in his throat. “Ngh… g-guh, n-no… no more…”
If the barest touch is enough to shatter him, Childe has struck him at full force. He’s so raw, so sensitive, that even the suggestion of a nudge against his prostate sends his knees shaking. Zhongli’s body continues to spasm uncontrollably through the aftershocks, eyes fogged over and jaw hanging slack. He slumps against the chair with his head tilted back, unable to close his legs with the position he’s tied into.
Forced to bare himself in front of Childe, feeling helplessly exposed as the knots keep his back arched magnificently. Posture maintained even as his body turns to jelly and saliva drips out his slackened mouth. His cock gives one last, pathetic twitch.
He can’t tell where Childe is, can’t tell if he has some plan to torture him further. The touch of the cold air itself is a knife against his brutalized nerves.
“Please,” he chokes out. That broken, defeated noise doesn’t feel like his voice at all.
And then, he feels the blindfold lifted off his face, damp and sticky with tears and sweat.
Childe leans an arm against the chair. Zhongli’s expression is a sight for sore eyes, vulnerable and worn out in the way he likes best. The red that rings his eyes remains intact even now—a lovely touch to golden irises trying to focus back on reality.
Zhongli turns his head dazedly to see Childe kneeling, pressing his lips gently to his soft, flushed cock. It’s enough to make his thighs jerk, legs still trembling in their restraints.
“Nhh…” He writhes weakly. “Ah…”
“Like my surprise?”
“That... was against the rules,” Zhongli mumbles hoarsely.
“I never said I wouldn’t interfere,” Childe smirks. “I couldn’t let you go free after acting so cocky, my dear consultant.”
“—So y-you were planning on…”
“You said you’d let me do what I wanted to you today," he says, circling around the chair. "So why are you complaining?”
“I am not—complaining,” Zhongli says sulkily. “I am merely clarifying that a game—a game, in principle, only carries m-meaning when both parties agree on the same implicit—”
“Quiet, xiansheng.” Childe’s fingers brush over Zhongli’s jaw and he grips it, tilting his head backward. “Talking back, always thinking you know the rules—don’t forget who’s in control.”
Zhongli feels a shiver run through his gut, and promptly realizes that Childe is threatening to resummon the riptide mark.
“Wait,” he gasps out. “Wait, please— don’t.”
“Hm?” Childe says. “I could leave you here all night, you know." A cruel smile creeps over his face. "Stuffed full of toys and cumming ‘til daylight, wailing and screaming with no one to hear.”
He pushes his head back until Zhongli is straining uncomfortably against the ropes, forcing him to thrust his hips out and arch his spine. “What do you think you’d look like by morning?” He licks his lips, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “I’m a bit curious to find out.”
"P-please,” Zhongli stutters, swallowing a mouthful of saliva, cock twitching between his legs. “I-I was wrong, please— I’ll do whatever you say, I’ll be quiet, c-can’t possibly—handle—”
Childe watches him squirm, blabbering pathetically, skin chafing beneath the ropes. “Please,” Zhongli chokes, as Childe’s hand tugs at his crimson binds. “Please.”
Watching Zhongli tremble before him like a frightened rabbit, begging and whimpering for mercy as his eyes flood with panic, sends molten fire pooling in Childe’s gut. It’s hard to suppress the sheer adoration Childe feels as he sees him like this, captured prey writhing between his jaws.
He feels the temptation to tip that chair over. Watch his expression as he topples ungraciously, dark boot pressed firmly to the tender flesh of his neck. How lovely he would look, choking for breath beneath him. Childe wants to press his mouth to those soft, kissable lips, take that divinely-touched hair into his scarred fingers alone.
“Y-you wish to—fuck me, do you not?” Zhongli gasps. “I’ll let you have your way—let you take what you desire—“
Childe pretends to think about Zhongli’s offer. “Alright,” he says. “I’ll give you a chance.” Zhongli lets out a shaky breath of relief at his response. “But remember, only good boys get rewards. And you haven’t been a good boy yet.”
“Mnn,” Zhongli breathes. He doesn’t need to say anything. That look in his eyes practically screams ‘I’ll be a good boy.’ At times like these, he’s not sure if even Zhongli realizes how eager he looks.
Childe makes short work of the ropes binding his legs to the chair, which fall loosely to the floor. Which isn’t to say he frees him completely. The harness around his chest is left intact, forming a lovely frame for his still-swollen nipples, and his arms remain bound firmly behind his back.
Zhongli attempts to obey, only to fall clumsily to his knees. “S-sir. My legs, they still…”
“It’s alright.” Zhongli’s eyes widen at the sight of Childe’s cock slipping out of his pants, hungry and alarmingly erect. “Having you on your knees works just fine for this.”
Childe shifts forward until his cock is rubbing against Zhongli’s face, and the consultant swallows in anticipation. “Suck me off,” he orders. Zhongli shuffles forward, thoroughly prepared to please, and Childe’s grip on his hair tightens as he brings his face to his dick.
Zhongli takes him into his mouth, sliding over the first few inches with ease. The inside of Zhongli’s mouth is warm and wet, and Childe’s breath catches as Zhongli sinks down further with that divine expression of his. Greedy. He laps sweetly at his length, sucking Fatui cock like he was born for it.
He always looks so pretty in this state. Expression hazy as he basks in the submission, eyes half-lidded and a hand in his hair. The soft strands bunch between his fingers like silk and Childe remembers that Zhongli is a luxury. Ephemeral and eternal all at once, ripe for indulgence and made to be soiled.
Oh, the sight of Zhongli’s glossy lips parted around his cock make it hard for him to restrain himself. Childe tightens his grip and pauses, soaking in the delightful feeling of Zhongli's tongue swirling around his shaft. There’s nothing wrong with the way Zhongli sucks cock—archons, no, he’s incredible, he feels amazing—but seeing that look on his face, so eager and obedient and honest—
“Don’t bite, now.”
His hips twitch, and golden eyes widen with realization half a second too late as Childe thrusts straight into Zhongli’s mouth without warning. He almost loses his balance as Childe’s cock hits the back of his throat, gagging and spluttering, muscles fluttering forcefully around his length as they reflexively try to dislodge the insertion.
His head is guided back forward without mercy. Zhongli writhes, tears forming in his eyes, as Childe forces him deep over his cock. All the way down to the hilt, until his nose is buried in Childe’s crotch.
His cock must be all the way down his throat now, buried hot and heavy in his cute little mouth. Childe shivers at that thought, grip tightening unkindly at the base of his neck.
“Never forget,” he says, grinning, “you’re nothing but my personal sleeve.”
And Childe, without hesitation, begins to fuck Zhongli’s mouth. He keeps a firm grip on his hair, ignoring the way he reflexively chokes and gags around his length at every step of the way.
Zhongli’s shoulders tremble each time he slams into the back of his throat. Childe is unabashedly well-endowed, and Zhongli takes the full brunt of every last inch as it’s stuffed down his passageway. And oh, believe it, it’s damn hard for Childe to feel apologetic when it feels this fucking sublime.
The brisk rhythm gives Zhongli few moments to catch his breath and recover. With his hands bound behind his back—thrown off balance, on his shaking knees—he’s easily dragged right where Childe wants him: choking on his thick cock, muffled whimpers drowned out by the sound of Childe’s own coaxing laughter.
Words cannot describe how hard he’s turned on by the expression Zhongli makes when he peeks upward, meeting Childe’s eyes through a face full of tears. Saliva drips down his chin. His eyes flutter. He’s a mess, drooling everywhere, gagging for breath as he struggles against the hand keeping him pressed tight against Childe’s crotch.
“Ngh—“ Zhongli mewls, gagging violently. “Mngh, guh, ngh— “
Childe draws out and slams back in, causing a fresh wave of tears to form in Zhongli’s eyes. He’s struggling to keep his body still even as his mind wills him to kneel and let himself be used. Zhongli moans, throat constricting against cock, as he finally lets his mind go blank.
Childe releases in Zhongli’s open mouth with one last, shuddering thrust as he finally pulls out. Come spills over his pink tongue, dripping down his lips and chin as he gasps for air.
“Swallow.” Zhongli obeys, tongue darting out, unable to reach the rest of it as it gathers beneath his bruised lip. Childe gathers up the milky ejaculate with his fingers and then places them at Zhongli’s mouth, smiling as Zhongli takes his digits onto his wet tongue without a word. Licking them clean, like a well-trained pet.
“You did well.”
“Uhn..." Zhongli laps up those scant words of praise, as if they’re enough to make up for the earlier abuse, looking at Childe expectantly, face flushed prettily and legs still spread. Childe runs a hand along the side of his head in a faux display of tenderness.
And then, he raises his foot and plants it firmly on Zhongli’s crotch, eyes narrowing into crescents as he watches him gasp and squirm beneath him.
A part of Childe misses when Zhongli would struggle to get away from him. But he wouldn’t give the sight of Zhongli humping his leg like a dog in heat, nuzzling his face against his crotch, for the whole damn world. If only the rest of the Liyue knew how pathetic their former archon became before him. Nothing more than a whore, tied up and begging on his knees.
"Fuck me,” Zhongli pants. He looks so debauched. “F-fuck me, o-oh— please— ”
He’s squirming in his binds, and Childe can see just how eager he is, lips wet with saliva and cock twitching between his legs. Fuck, that’s hot. His eyes, hazy and golden, glow with each filthy word. “W-want you to fill me up. Everything. Pin me down and—touch me, fuck me—”
Childe grinds down and Zhongli lets out an unbridled moan, eyes growing glassy as he presses his cheek to Childe’s leg. He’s trembling in shame, blush spreading across his face, unable to extract himself from the humiliating situation Childe has put him in and loving it.
“So this is why you retired from archonhood,” Childe says, voice dripping with honey and sugar. “So you could be a slut. So desperate for cock, you’d whore yourself out to the first Fatui who tries.”
“Ah… mnh …”
“How far you’ve fallen, Rex Lapis. ” Childe grazes a finger over his two nipples, still puffy and swollen from the clamps, and a shuddering moan escapes from Zhongli as if to prove his very point. “Just look at this slutty body of yours. Taking on such a pretty, lewd form… it's no accident, is it?”
He tweaks, and a Zhongli's whole body shakes with a cry. Childe becomes impossibly harder at the sight.
“You were waiting for this. Waiting for someone to use you like a cheap prostitute, stuff your slutty hole full of cock as you beg for it. Your slender waist and plump ass, the way you whimper and moan when someone touches you in all the right places… Oh,” Childe growls, “you were built to be bred.”
Zhongli chokes on half-formed words, fresh tears on the verge of spilling out. “Don’t lie to yourself—nothing else can satisfy you anymore. You’re good for nothing now, just a warm hole for getting fucked and used. You should thank me for putting you to good use, whore.”
“Y-yes,” Zhongli stutters, catching his breath once more. “Nh, yes, yes… th-thank you… ‘m yours to fuck, all yours…”
Zhongli stumbles over words when he’s flustered, Childe observes smugly. So different from his usual, sophisticated self. “Speak my name,” he commands. Zhongli swallows as Childe tilts his chin up, flushed all the way down to his trembling shoulders.
“Childe,” he gasps. “Childe, Childe…”
—Sweet Tsaritsa, he could get drunk off the sound of his name spilling from Zhongli’s lips alone.
Zhongli grunts as Childe pushes him to the ground in one, swift motion, back pressed to the floor and soft thighs spread around his waist. Caged in as Childe’s arms slam down beside each of his shoulders. Like this, their cocks rub together—Zhongli’s pretty and flushed, Childe’s firm and heavy—and it becomes particularly obvious just how much larger Childe is.
He sees Zhongli shiver in anticipation.
Childe rocks his hips gently, grinding against him. A flirtation, and a threat. Zhongli bucks upward, begging for cock with the roll of his trembling hips. The urge to pin Zhongli to the floor and fuck him until he blacks out returns at full force.
“Do you think you deserve it, now?” he says, mouth curling into a sneer. “Do you think you deserve my cock?”
A final call, for Zhongli to say no. Childe’s muscles pull taut as he slides forward, rubbing them together, and an electric tingle of anticipation runs up Zhongli’s spine as he almost screams the word yes.
“Yes, p-please,” he cries, voice wet and leaky, “just fill me, already—”
Childe aligns himself with the rim of his ass, and Zhongli lets out an indelicate noise as he slides the first few inches inside. As if he’s never taken Childe’s cock before, as if his size and his own virgin tightness all come as a surprise to him. He sucks in a breath, biting back tears.
And then Childe drives his thick length all the way in with one sloppy thrust. Zhongli almost loses himself in a single instant, hips jerking upward and mouth parting in an unmistakable cry of pleasure.
It’s a completely different stretch from the toy. Childe’s cock is far warmer, far rougher, far more alive in the way it drills into him. Zhongli lets out a wet gasp, convulsing, as Childe grinds deeper against his prostate instead of pulling out. Childe feels Zhongli’s hole tighten greedily around him as he starts to move and has to swallow back his own gasp.
Childe starts to work up to a steady rhythm, snapping his hips in large, powerful strokes—each one bottoming all the way to the hilt, stuffing him completely full—and the strong grip at his shoulders stops Zhongli from squirming as he feeds his cock into his pliant belly, even as his hips stutter lewdly under Childe’s rough movements.
“Mnnh,” Zhongli moans. His back arches sublimely with each mind-shattering thrust, balled fists scraping against the floor as Childe pounds straight into his prostate. “Ah, h-hah…”
Childe draws his hips back, and slams back in. “Aah—!”
“Opened you up all that time, and it’s still like a virgin hole—so this is what it means to be a god,” Childe pants, beginning to increase the pace. “Ah, fuck, Zhongli, fuck…”
“Ah, oh, Ch-childe, ah—“
Childe almost cums hearing Zhongli call his name like that, looking at him like that, so adorably taken apart and eager for his touch with his little body plugged full of cock. Trembling, a wet sheen of saliva coating his lips, eyes filled with heat and lust and desire for—Childe reaffirms, with a shudder that sends him skyrocketing—him.
Obscene moans spill out with each thrust. Childe fucks him mercilessly until Zhongli is gasping for air, overwhelmed and yet loving it, spasming in pleasure as his head lolls back helplessly.
“Hgh… ough, ah, n-nhh—“
Childe digs further into Zhongli’s shoulders, providing him better leverage, as he begins to move at a punishing pace. Slamming against his prostate relentlessly, forcing out wordless cries with each movement. Before Zhongli can recover, Childe easily chokes the next breath from him, inundating him with pleasure until tears spill from his eyes and his body goes weak in his grip.
Zhongli slams his head back against the ground, drooling helplessly as he squirms in uncontrollable ecstasy. He feels like his mind is wobbling, unable to control his body’s movements as pleasure invades every one of his senses.
“Shit, xiansheng, shit, you’re so good, way too good—“
“Nh, h-hah— ah, ough, ah—”
His thighs knock against the floor each time Childe thrusts in, bound arms scraping against the rug. The ropes tighten harmoniously as his body jerks backward, digging against the tender flesh of his neck and chest in a way that's bound to leave markings. The burn only adds to the sensation, pleasure and pain mixing together in Zhongli’s frantically scattered thoughts.
His pert nipples bob up and down, begging to be fondled and sucked. Childe’s eyes drift down from his chest to his delicate waist and stomach, heaving up and down with each rough stroke. Even now, Zhongli is leaking onto his belly, hopelessly aroused and desperate for more. His pretty lips are parted in a filthy moan, saliva pooling and spilling down his chin as he forgets to swallow in his heat-addled haze—
Full, full, he feels so full—
There’s no way anyone could look at the man writhing beneath him and not think ‘ whore,’ Childe muses, not with the way he’s so sublimely perfected the art of begging for more, every movement of his body desperate and hungering and making his pleasure known. Legs spread wide, mewling like an animal, expression so satisfied he might as well be in Celestia.
A part of Childe— vain, he acknowledges—wonders if he was the one who’d made Zhongli like this. Corrupted him with his cock, awakened him to a masochistic pleasure he’d never known in six thousand years of life. Another part of him wonders if the Geo Archon was always a slut. If Rex Lapis had always been weak to the pleasures of the flesh, longing to be pinned down and dominated. How the people of Liyue would tremble, knowing how pitiful their archon was—!
“Ngh, oh, ah—” Zhongli’s toes curl, glistening eyes beginning to roll back as pleasure wracks his body. “Mnah, gh-hah—”
Childe releases his trembling shoulders to grab at his milky thighs, pushing them further back until his knees frame his face. Zhongli makes a noise of delirious surprise.
And then, Childe angles himself right at the spot that always crumbles Zhongli apart. He’s practically drilling downward, Zhongli’s ass spread directly beneath him, plowing into his twitching hole like he’s trying to breed him full.
“H -hah—! Oh…! Ah, ah, ah—!”
A final part of him wonders if he wasn’t the first whom Zhongli had bowed to, gotten on his knees for, allowed to touch and break so intimately. That part is dark and possessive, nasty and cruel. It makes him want to desecrate Zhongli so terribly he ruins him for good. If he cannot be first in everything, he will certainly be first in this.
Zhongli is gone, babbling, utterly out of his mind. Childe’s cock slams into his delicious heat, churning his insides so forcefully he’s sure he’s left an imprint. His movements are harsh and rough, precision long gone as he tries to break open Zhongli with what remains. Each jerk of the hips constitutes a desperate, feverish claim. Begging for Zhongli’s body to take his cock, begging to reshape his divine insides to his mortal form.
How pathetic I’ve become, Childe thinks. So desperate for Zhongli’s attention, that I let him use me like this.
It’s intoxicating. He can never get enough.
Zhongli’s well-fucked passage squeezes Childe tight as he accelerates for one final push. His tongue lolls out briefly and his eyes roll back, body twitching helplessly into Childe’s final, sluggish thrust.
Zhongli convulses as Childe finally spills inside, thick seed gushing into his eager hole. Somehow, he feels even more full—his body having room for more, even with how firmly Childe’s cock had plugged him up—and he can’t help but shiver at the sheer warmth of it all.
Warm. Hot. Zhongli tumbles into his own orgasm with a shivering cry, a handsome stream of come splattering over his rope-bound body as he scrabbles helplessly at the floor beneath him. With the position he's been curled into, some of it even splashes across his face. “Mnhgh,” Zhongli moans, mouth parted in fucked-out bliss. His eyes are foggy, but the expression of senseless ecstasy is unmistakable.
Cum practically spurts out of him as Childe pulls out entirely. Zhongli’s hole suddenly feels painfully, achingly empty after being filled to the brim for so long. His legs shake uncontrollably, cock pink and weeping against the pale spread of his stomach as he clenches around empty air.
With his back arched helplessly over his bound arms like that , he looks positively filthy. Pretty, delicate, and used. He’s still trembling from his orgasm, drool spilling out the corners of his lips as tear stains decorate his flushed cheeks.
“You’re amazing,” Childe breathes out. Zhongli’s dark hair falls messy around his face, loose threads clinging to sweat. He’s grateful just to be able to see Zhongli like this, all for him.
He imagines him splayed across his sheets, silky black strands plastered against pearly white linen. Legs and hands intertwined, Zhongli’s breath against his sweaty skin.
As Childe loses himself in his reverie, Zhongli somehow gathers the energy to thrust his hips upward again. His soft cock bounces against his flat stomach—his legs, still trembling, begin to spread apart once more.
“Again?” he says. Childe blinks in surprise. He must be unbearably overstimulated by now. How could he possibly—?
“W-want you to—use me ‘til you’re satisfied,” Zhongli stutters out. There’s a faint smile on his face as he offers himself up to Childe, shivering.
So Zhongli knows him well enough, now. Knows of Childe’s bottomless lust and appetite for conquest—for him. How absolutely fucking vicious Zhongli has become since the first time he fucked him, watching him babble in tears on top his desk. Now, they’re rolling on the ground like animals, and it’s like he just can’t get enough.
So easily teased, yet so utterly shameless. Oh, Zhongli’s doing this on purpose now . Childe can’t help but grin.
“Anything for you,” Childe says, before he grabs Zhongli by the shoulders and flips him over. He lands on his chest with a soft thud, hole twitching in anticipation. If Zhongli wants no mercy, then he won’t show any. Zhongli grunts at the manhandling, unable to do anything with his arms restrained as Childe wrests his thighs open and spreads his soft cheeks apart.
Zhongli’s hole is forcibly bared to him, now, puffy and red and stuffed to the brim with Childe’s come. Childe kneads his ass with his thumbs, watching his milky handiwork dribble out in full view. The sight is downright heavenly.
“Keep your ass in the air for me, won’t you, darling?” Zhongli lets out a grunt of assent as he holds the position, cheeks flushed from the indignity of presenting himself to Childe like a piece of meat. A loud slap resounds as Childe smacks his ass with the full weight of his palm, choking a soft cry from Zhongli.
Childe quickly switches gears as he begins to run his hand along his hips, his waist, reaching for the line at the center of his stomach. Spreading his fingers teasingly before dipping his finger into his navel, groping at the soft skin of his belly. Zhongli quivers at his touch, at the mere suggestion of it .
His hand drifts upward to fondle at his balls before squeezing the base of Zhongli’s cock. He shudders, letting out a deep, guttural moan, almost letting his knees cave before Childe steadies him with his arms. “Ass up,” he reminds him warningly. Zhongli fixes his posture with increased vigilance.
Childe begins to angle his cock back toward his hole, already wet and filthy and ready to be defiled again. Childe can’t resist giving his cheeks another slap, watching the tender flesh shake on impact, before he grabs his hips and hoists them upward once more for good measure.
Zhongli’s whole body arches, soft and pliant in his grasp. He slides over his dick with minimal resistance, and Childe feels himself push in deep as a guttural groan slides from his lips.
Oh, Zhongli is just too good for him. “A-archons,” he hears him gasp out hoarsely.
His slick warmth clenches around his cock, still struggling to accommodate Childe’s size even now. Whatever come had begun to drip out stops promptly, thoroughly plugged up by his thickness.
A perfect fit for them both. Zhongli truly was made for him.
“Ngh,” Zhongli moans. Childe grinds into his prostate from this position and chokes another mumble from Zhongli.
“Fuck,” Childe groans. “You’re so fucking tight.”
Zhongli shivers at that. The thought of making Childe feel that good, even after multiple rounds—
Childe lowers a hand to Zhongli’s belly, and he can feel it trace the location of his cock as he feeds it inside him. He could come on that sensation alone, wrapped so tightly around his girth he can barely breathe. Zhongli lets his eyes roll back slightly, drool already beginning to leak down his slackened jaw as he anticipates what Childe is about to do to him.
“Be good for me, will you, Zhongli?” Childe says. He can feel him rocking back and forth, crotch flush to his cheeks, as his other hand wraps possessively around his chest.
It should be degrading, to be fucked like this. Helplessly bared with his cheek pressed to the floor—bound on his knees before the enemy, slapped and humiliated and manhandled, cum still dripping down the insides of his thighs as drool pools beneath his chin—
“Yes,” he gasps. It’s hard to focus when he’s in Childe’s embrace like this. Warm, fuzzy, full…
…And all protests leave his mind the moment Childe starts moving his hips.
An unholy noise escapes his mouth. This new position is even more unbearable, allowing Childe to angle in just the right way as to strike Zhongli’s prostate perfectly. Childe snaps his hips with renewed vigor before he can recover, reeling him over his cock without letting him collapse. Zhongli bites his lip, whimpering, utterly unable to hold back his pretty noises.
“Ah— ngh, mn, ngh—”
Zhongli’s chest scrapes against the ground as Childe grabs his thighs and slams him over his cock. Again and again, body slick with sweat and bruised by the merciless strength of his grip. Forced to submit. Squirming and writhing as Childe punches the breath from his lungs, arms bound uselessly behind his back.
Childe’s heat sears his insides like a brand. The sensation of his cock dragging through his walls, scraping and ramming against his bruised prostate with each greedy thrust, is enough to send Zhongli wailing.
“Mngh— ah, h-hah, ah—”
“You’ll be a good little hole for me, will you?”
Yes, yes, yes, Zhongli sobs. Archons, it feels so— oh, oh, oh—
All that comes out are garbled, half-formed cries. Zhongli’s tongue hangs from his mouth, tears leaking all over his cheeks as golden eyes roll back in indescribable pleasure.
Zhongli is nothing but a pretty toy, and Childe makes it clear as he pins him to the floor by the neck and digs into him over and over again like he’s having the choicest meal. Slapping across his pretty thighs with obscene noises, blowing his cock deep into Zhongli with nothing but the intent to devour.
Schlap, schlap. The air is filled with the lewd noises of Childe’s hips slamming roughly against his, incoherent pleas of surrender spilling out without end. The soft squelch he makes as he breaches his soft insides effortlessly is a jewel in a class of its own.
“My perfect little cocksleeve,” Childe pants. “So wet and tight. So obedient.”
Zhongli moans senselessly, utterly fucked out of his mind as Childe plugs him full with each thrust. Everything feels so raw, so full, like the slightest touch is enough to send him overflowing. He can feel Childe’s warm breath against his neck as he lurches forward on the cool floor, his firm grip pulling him back over his cock when he feels himself dropping down. Saliva dribbles from his lips and gathers at a pool beside his mouth. He’s helpless and useless and the hand in his hair makes him feel needed.
“Ghn,” Zhongli groans. “Nn, nn—ah—“
Childe yanks hard at his hair and pulls him onto his cock like he weighs nothing at all, thrusting upward to penetrate as deep as possible into his lithe, trembling body. Zhongli lets out a delightful noise at that, the pain burning beautifully at his scalp, buried in sensation and long past coherent speech. His thighs and chest are stained white with come, both his and Childe’s, spread wide as he sits bonelessly on Childe’s lap. Childe pushes out another shameful cry from Zhongli as a hard thrust sends his whole chest rocking forward, legs parting deliciously to stop himself from slipping off.
From the gooey sobs choked from his throat, Childe can tell he’s near the edge. He grabs Zhongli by the waist and practically drops him onto his lap, and Zhongli comes untouched just like that, eyes rolled back and shuddering as Childe’s firm cock spears him right through. He clenches tightly around his thick length, sobbing, entire body seized by nerve-wracking orgasm.
Childe doesn’t stop rolling his hips, fucking into Zhongli’s soft, pliant hole even as he squirms from oversensitivity, moaning deliriously for him to stop. He finishes off soon enough, and Zhongli groans as he feels that liquid heat sink inside him once more. It’s enough to swallow him whole. Zhongli takes a big gulp as he feels Childe’s cum pool inside him, exhaling with a shiver.
…Childe doesn’t let go. He keeps him in his lap, still embedded over his cock like a pretty sleeve, tummy growing full with his seed.
Zhongli’s breath hitches as he wraps his arms even more tightly around him, steady and alive. Childe's cock is already hardening inside him again.
“Until I’m satisfied,” Childe says huskily.
Zhongli’s mind is a murky haze, but he knows that what Childe just said, then—
“I hope you don’t have any important plans for tomorrow, because you certainly won’t be able to leave bed.”
—was very, very dangerous.
His spent cock twitches in traitorous interest. To be totally at Childe’s mercy…
Childe lifts him back up, beginning to bounce Zhongli’s fragile, bound body on his cock once more, and Zhongli begins to register that he might have made a mistake.
By the time he’s done, Zhongli looks like he’s been ravaged by a monster. Heaving and shuddering, his hair a complete mess, flushed all the way down to his chest and shoulders as his body trembles with each breath. His expression is obscene, truly fucked stupid to Celestia and back. One could hardly believe he was the same man as the one who showed up at his office door earlier that day, let alone the victor of any kind of divine war.
Childe pulls out with a wet noise and cum drips from his sloppy rim in obscene gobs, puddling at the floor between his thighs. “Still awake?” Childe asks, feeling Zhongli’s body go completely limp in his grip.
“Nn.” Zhongli sobs weakly, eyes blank with sheer pleasure. He couldn’t move right now if he wanted to. He lies chest-down against the floor, eyes rolled back, feeling utterly fucked-out and used. Full, full of Childe’s wonderful seed. Beyond stretched.
It feels incredible.
Childe brushes his hair back to see his face, eyes glossed over and snot and spit dripping over the floorboards. No price is worth the sight of this, he thinks. The pleasure of bringing Rex Lapis—no, Zhongli to his knees. Fucking him until tears flood from his eyes, milking every last drop of cum from his aching cock untouched.
Surely, Zhongli will never be satisfied with anyone’s cock but his, after all of this.
Childe’s expression involuntarily softens as Zhongli rolls to the floor, consciousness finally drifting away. He lifts him into his arms where he slumps bonelessly, soft and sweaty against his chest. “Let me help.”
He reaches his fingers to the knots at his back, tugging and pulling until the red ropes fall to the ground. Zhongli’s arms slump down, covered in harsh red marks where they’d burned into his flesh. He lets out a low rumble. Mumbling something Childe can’t quite understand, trying to keep his eyes open even as his vision blurs and his eyes flutter shut in exhaustion.
“Rest,” he chides. Moments later, Childe presses a glass of water to his lips. Some of the cool liquid dribbles down his chin, but Zhongli gratefully accepts the rest.
Afterward, Childe sets Zhongli back down to the rug. Takes a wet rag to his skin, cleaning him up.
Zhongli flinches as he lifts a hand to the angry red markings that litter his body. “Relax,” Childe repeats. “We’re done. Not trying to hurt you.”
“Mnn,” Zhongli mumbles, exhaling softly.
The man truly is gorgeous, in every possible way.
Zhongli loosens up slightly and Childe begins the massage. Easing the pressure in slowly, firmly. Rubbing against neck and shoulders until he starts to feel the tension in his muscles dissipate. He examines his arms, and then his legs, fingers dipping into skin and coaxing the tightness away.
Warm, Childe thinks. Zhongli is so sublime, and yet here, soft in his hands—so trusting—he’s never once seemed so human.
Childe is no expert masseuse, but he stretches Zhongli out to the best of his ability, knowing the soreness that comes with being bound for even a couple of hours. It’s baffling—for someone who’s barely had time to accumulate the stresses and sores of mortal life, Zhongli’s body is already awfully wound-up.
It’s amazing how quiet the room becomes, their pulsing breaths barely audible now that things have calmed down. It’s long past the bank’s closing time, and he can hear the daytime rumble of Liyue’s streets coming to a stop. It’s relaxing to sit here and focus on such a simple task.
…Were his eyelashes always so long? Just the sight of Zhongli lying in his arms is enough to soothe him. An indescribable emotion, full of ache, begins to well up in Childe’s chest. Like this, he looks so innocent. So raw.
“‘Mn sorry,” Zhongli mumbles. Childe blinks, suddenly back on guard. He thought he’d fallen asleep. An apology?
Childe fumbles momentarily, unsure how to respond. “For what?”
“For—fooling you. For so long.” Zhongli opens his eyes blearily.
Childe’s mouth goes dry.
Zhongli was sorry? Sorry for fooling him? As if a single apology was enough for the humiliation he’d put him through, the shame of being used and tossed away without a second thought. It's funny, how they both know exactly what Zhongli is talking about.
“Then why did you do it?”
“I did not know it would hurt you so much.” His response is quiet, but it doesn’t stop the ache from reaching Childe’s heart.
“Hurt?” Childe says. “You really think you hurt me?”
“I am sorry,” Zhongli says again. “You need not respond. I know you have your pride.”
Childe turns away, still perturbed. Of all things, after so long—being ignored for weeks on end—he hadn’t expected Zhongli to just up and apologize. “What do you want, Zhongli? For me to say it didn’t matter? You can’t take back what you’ve done.” And neither can I. “It’s all in the past now, so just drop it.”
“J-just… wanted to apologize.” His voice is shaky, and Childe can’t tell if it’s from the hoarseness of his voice or his own shame.
“Sorry,” Zhongli whispers.
He can sense his desperation and that dark feeling surges up again. “I won’t forgive you,” he spits. And it's not until he sees the hurt flashing in Zhongli’s eyes that he regrets it.
Zhongli was never good at masking his emotions when it mattered. Childe supposes that’s why he’d gained such a desire to mess with him—he’d longed to see that cool facade crack. Now, Zhongli turns away as though nothing has been said at all. It’s a different kind of pain on his face, one accompanied by a gnawing hollowness.
Forgiveness? Does he forgive Zhongli?
Zhongli won’t look at him. Childe doesn’t touch him. He stays back, watching Zhongli’s bare shoulders rise and fall with each quiet breath. He didn’t care about losing Zhongli before, did he? (No, he thought he'd made amends with it.) So why, after taking all that he wants, does he still want him to stay?
...He wants to laugh. Zhongli let him degrade him, step on him, carve him into a weak, broken shell of his former self, and now he’s gone so far as to come crawling back for his mercy. A mercy that Childe has so cruelly denied. Hasn’t this all been punishment enough for Zhongli? What more does he want from him? For the first time, Childe can’t quite come up with a scathing remark. Can’t find the fire to beat back the man who’s made himself so vulnerable to him.
“Zhongli.” His voice goes uncharacteristically soft. A part of the name feels foreign to him, as if he isn’t worthy to speak it. Another part of him feels sick, nauseous, at the thought of surrender. Childe doesn’t owe him forgiveness. Zhongli was wrong. He’s still wrong.
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” He shakes his head. Zhongli looks back at him curiously. “We have a new arrangement, don’t we?”
“If you wanted to stay, the way we are now, I wouldn’t mind.”
One step at a time. He’s not quite ready to let Zhongli in, but he doesn’t want to push him away entirely, either.
(Of course, he was the one who invited Zhongli here, ruined him. He can’t say he doesn’t thrill at the thought of having him hanging by a thread.)
Zhongli simply smiles, a melancholy look in his eyes. He looks so honest, so unguarded. That look is dangerous, Childe realizes.
“Mnn,” Zhongli hums in agreement. “I would not mind it, either.”
Childe wants to draw Zhongli into his arms, but the shaky ground they stand on is fragile enough, so hangs back. Instead, he simply says, “You were wonderful today, Zhongli.”
“Thank you,” Zhongli breathes. He dips his head. “I would never have thought I’d be so easily tamed, by someone in such need of taming themselves.”
All along, he thought he was wearing Zhongli down, but it was really his own heart fracturing at the edges.
He never knew how badly he needed Zhongli at his side until now. Oh, it’s terrible, it’s frightening how badly he needs him. He wonders if Zhongli knows—knows how tightly he has him wrapped around his finger, how weak he is for him, how much he desires his attention.
He understands now why the hurt in his eyes sent him into panic. He was the fool, thinking he could possibly keep things casual with him—how could he ever have just one taste, and then let him go? The thought of him turning elsewhere makes him sick. The thing he fears most in the world, right now, is Zhongli leaving.
Possessiveness simmers beneath his skin, a violent desire to keep him all for himself. Childe may be hungry, but Zhongli would be naive to think he can give Childe everything he wants. That he can satiate him.
—Zhongli, after all, has only made him hungrier.
Childe licks his lips. The consultant has no idea what’s in store for him.
haha, well. you know when you’re downloading something and it suddenly goes from “8 minutes left” to “284 days left”? that's what's happened to my writing abilities, hence the months-long hiatus. my condolences. thank you for sticking with me for that sweet tartali smut, if you're still here ♡
I still find it bewildering that I can post something on ao3 and people will read it. thank you to everyone who has ever read or commented on this unholy account, I truly do appreciate it! (´ω`♡)
Chapter 4: now all of liyue knows we’re fucking
Childe wants to move their arrangement outside of the bedroom, ahem, office. Zhongli does not approve.
dubcon borderline noncon warning for childe, master of under negotiated kink
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
“Nhm, ngh, ah— h-hah—”
Zhongli shakes around Childe, arms twitching at his sides and shoulders trembling in pleasure as the harbinger sends his cock rocking back into him. He’s so out of it, he hardly notices as Childe reaches behind himself to retrieve a small, rectangular object.
“Wh…” Zhongli tilts his head up, glancing back at Childe again, face flushed. Why did you stop?
“Have you ever heard of this device?” He raises it to the light, sleek and secure in his grip. “Another incredible invention from Fontaine. It records sounds, and plays them back—it’s just a prototype, so the records don’t last long, but they’re incredibly accurate. Easy to understand, and easy to use.”
Zhongli’s eyes widen as he sees his finger on the trigger, and he freezes in understanding. “Don’t.”
Childe shakes his head, smirking. “Oh, don’t worry. I won’t be recording anything from today.” From today? He taps a button on the side, and Zhongli immediately hears a voice that is unmistakably his own begging for Childe to fuck him. Screaming for him to fuck him.
That last time. When Childe had tied him to the chair, Zhongli quickly realizes. His face grows redder with each passing second. “Ah…”
“So loud,” Childe smirks. “Just listen to yourself. Imagine if others knew what you were like, so cock-hungry, desperate, unable to shut up—”
“Stop,” Zhongli says, face flushing with embarrassment. “N-no, no—”
“Weren’t you begging me to go harder, faster, just a minute earlier?”
Zhongli had lost many of his inhibitions since their first time together, and a part of Childe welcomes the decadence. How else would he be able to hear Zhongli so wantonly begging for him? But he also misses the red flush of shame on his ears, the cute way he tries to hide his face when he’s embarrassed.
He needs new ways to humiliate Zhongli, to make him remember his place.
The recording of his desperate begging continues to play in the background, mixed with the sounds of Zhongli’s own moans, as Childe resumes thrusting into his tight body once more. “I think I’ll show this around. Let my coworkers know what a slut you are, so eager to spread his legs and fuck himself on Fatui cock. Do you really think Liyue’s opinions of ‘Zhongli’ would stay the same after seeing this cute side of you?”
“Mngh—!” Zhongli fists at Childe’s jacket, scrabbling against the floor as the harbinger keeps him pinned down with his body weight. “Nn, ah…!! S-stop, ah, hah, s-stop—”
He glares at Childe with desperate tears in his eyes, lip trembling and eyebrows scrunched as Childe keeps the recording box just out of reach. The exact kind of reaction he was hoping for. A kid with his bully, fighting desperately to his stolen belongings back.
“Begging for a harbinger to fuck you,” he mocks. “Mewling like a bitch in heat. How can anyone take you seriously like this?”
Zhongli bucks his hips, unable to bite back a moan, pleasure sending his eyes rolling back in indignant bliss. All as if to prove Childe’s point. “Cut out for an entirely different kind of consulting, if you ask me, more akin to the Pearl Galley than the Wangsheng Parlor.”
He rolls his hips and Zhongli keens, mouth open wide with tears glistening on his cheeks. Childe’s hand keeps him pressed tight against the floor, even as he squirms and jerks and drools in high-pitched desperation. “Ungh, unh, no—”
‘P-please, Childe, please,’ Zhongli’s voice continues to call. ‘Fuck me.’
“A needy whore like you is sure to draw in lots of customers. Lining up to fill your slutty little hole, waiting eagerly for a turn to bend you over and make you theirs.”
“S-stop it,” Zhongli stutters, trying to grab for the object in Childe’s hand. He dangles it from his fingers, teasing the consultant as he hitches his legs further up his shoulders. “Ah, ah—!”
He can’t escape the mounting pressure coiling in his stomach as Childe pounds his wet, squelching hole relentlessly, and Zhongli cums to the sound of his own voice, eyes rolling back as the pleasure hits him with full force. Liquid spurts over his chest in filthy streaks of white, tears of frustration spilling down his cheeks and open mouth as he gasps desperately for air.
Childe finally decides to take mercy on him and switch it off. “Oh, you know I’m just joking.” He leans over to flick one of his trembling nipples, sending his oversensitive body jerking.
“I wouldn’t do something like that. After all, you’re all mine~.” He peers at him, grinning cheerily, a foxlike expression on his face. “You forgive me, don’t you?”
“Despicable,” Zhongli cries, hitting him weakly before letting his arms fall bonelessly back down to the floor.
Beyond the sordid details of their little arrangement, life goes on in its own mundane way. Childe finds himself bored at his desk once more, barred from field work as part of the Tianquan’s orders and constantly monitored by the Millelith each time he steps foot outside the bank. I didn’t kill your archon, he wants to sneer at them, I just fucked him. By noon he’s often left restless, itching for a fight, itching for Zhongli.
Outside the boundaries of his office, the handsome consultant is more ordinary than Childe has ever known. He still goes to bed before ten and awakens at daybreak—like an old man, Childe muses—performing his duties at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor with stern resolve, shopping for trinkets and enjoying long walks and operas on his off time. Nothing about Zhongli is ordinary, per se, and yet it’s all so painfully boring. Not a single hair out of place, not a collar ruffled, expression off.
Childe clicks his tongue. Not a thing has changed about him since Liyue lost its archon. Not a thing has changed about him since he started offering himself to the Eleventh Harbinger like his personal whore.
He taps his fingers on the sill, watching Zhongli break into a warm smile. He’s having a conversation with a young merchant off to the side about something Childe can’t quite hear, and Zhongli opens his mouth, surely to say something either clever or utterly ridiculous.
Perhaps some things have changed, if not on the outside. Childe enjoys a certain smugness knowing that Zhongli continues to purchase things with his money, despite saying he doesn't need it (he very much does), that Zhongli returns week after week to prostrate cock-hungry at his feet. After the events of the Rite of Descension had wrenched them apart, Childe has wrenched them back together again with Zhongli more than eager to please.
Evidently, he muses, watching the scruffy-looking man flirt with an oblivious Zhongli, not close enough. The relationship between them is intimate as ever, but nothing has changed.
Is it not a part of Childe’s nature to want to stir up a bit of chaos?
When Zhongli turns and smiles at his approach, eyes widening, he knows that smile isn’t one reserved just for him. The consultant has a life outside of him, after all. So he wraps his arm around Zhongli’s shoulder in a gesture that is far too intimate to be mistaken as a greeting between mere acquaintances.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he says cheerfully. The merchant’s face pales as he recognizes him. His terrible reputation does indeed have its perks.
“You are scaring him,” Zhongli says gently.
“And I don’t scare you?” Childe replies, leaning in, gloved hand fondling the tie at his chest. The same hand that had been used to choke him around his soft, pretty throat, just yesterday. Celestia, Zhongli is so beautiful. It should be unfair for any one person to look so irresistible. “I’m just dealing with some flies, that's all. It’s of no concern to you.”
Zhongli sighs, a soft smile on his lips. “I know you too well to be afraid of you, Tartaglia.” Oh, do you now.
“Then, my dear Zhongli, I’d like to ask: are you free at the moment?” Zhongli can feel his breath hot on his neck, tickling his ear. “I’m feeling rather bored and I could use some assistance.”
The second they enter his office, Childe grabs him by the lapels and practically throws him onto the couch, tearing at layer after intricate layer like a starving man until his fancy clothes lie messy on the floor. He lays one hand on his chest, fingernails digging into soft pectorals until he leaves marks, as the other grabs his wrists and pins them in a cross above his head. Leaving him exposed, vulnerable, squirming like a caught fish.
Sure enough, Zhongli is already hard from the rough treatment. Cheeks rosy and cock leaking with precum, desperate to be touched.
“How long had you been watching?” Zhongli asks breathlessly, trying to settle himself down as Childe gropes at his skin. Mouthing at his nipples, his chest, his collar, making sure everything is still in place.
“Enough to tell that he was trying to hit on you.” Childe takes hold of his soft thighs, hitching his legs firmly around his waist. “I’ve been thinking of you all night, Zhongli, you’re all that’s on my mind. How could I possibly let someone like that think they can take you away from me?”
He pounces, breath warm as he finally pushes his mouth against Zhongli’s velvety lips. Kissing and nipping for a long, long time, rough and hungry but also deliberate, as if to remind himself—as if to remind the both of them— that this is Zhongli’s rightful place. Zhongli is left gasping when Childe finally releases his mouth, lips red and swollen and mind hazy.
“You’re mine,” he purrs. Matter-of-fact, unquestionable. Zhongli’s eyes flutter as he peers at him through dark lashes. Childe's fingers grip gently against his jaw, keeping his gaze level to his own.
“Don’t you forget that.”
Zhongli, the bastard, leans in until his cheek is pressed against the palm cradling his face, and then delivers a soft kiss to the inside of his hand in an act far too tender to have any place between the two of them. “So it seems that I am.”
Childe hisses. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk.”
“I know you always try your worst.”
The consultant’s legs are spread open in no time, welcoming deft fingers covered in slick. Zhongli lets an indecent whine escape, body twitching eagerly and pretty dick bobbing with each little jerk of his hips, as his skillful fingers slide in and out of his puckered hole. And, soon, it’s Childe’s own cock pushing against his entrance. It takes a few thrusts to bury it in its entirety, prying his walls open and sinking in deeps.
Zhongli tries to catch his breath at the stretch, but there is no patience today. With Zhongli, Childe is never patient. Zhongli clenches tightly around Childe as he pounds into his soft, velvety hole, fingers digging into his back and arms wrapped warmly around his neck. Each thrust chokes out a small gasp from him. His legs squeeze tight around his waist, body arching forward in desperate want.
“M-more, more, more…”
Zhongli begs, and Childe gives it to him. Even now, he's left wondering, how could a single man be so breathtaking? Childe rolls his hips steadily, forcefully, determined to take what’s his. Determined to fuck the man beneath him utterly stupid with everything he has, to prove that he deserves him. Zhongli meets him, rolling his hips forward until that telltale slap of flesh against flesh lets Childe know he’s reached the deepest, deepest part of Zhongli he can go, the bulge of his cockhead barely visible in Zhongli’s stomach as he arches his back helplessly in delight.
Zhongli is melting, unraveling as Childe stretches him wide open with his girth. The harbinger fucks ravenously. Pounding his prey until it wails, gasping and scrabbling at the surface below with tears in his golden eyes and pale legs wobbling uncontrollably. Drunk on the thrill of the chase, pursuing pleasure with each momentous thrust delivered right to Zhongli’s core.
Each time Childe slams back in to the hilt, balls slapping against his ass, he shakes, eyes wet and saliva rolling down his chin. Mouth open, calling his name in uneven breaths. The wet noises of their copulation and the hot scent of sex makes Childe all the more eager to breed Zhongli like an animal. He needs Zhongli addicted to his cock; no one can ever pleasure him the same way again. Zhongli may be his, but he is Zhongli’s, as well, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
He pounds his wet, slick hole over and over again, leaving him spasming uncontrollably, unbearably hot and full and claimed. Hitting deep until he gives, drooling and moaning in incoherent mumbles with wet tears spilling from his eyes. And Childe comes in Zhongli just like that, warmth blossoming in his well-pummelled guts as his seed pools inside, pulling out to leave it dripping between his legs and down his thighs.
Zhongli pants, lightheaded from the thorough fucking. He looks like a disheveled mess, but the expression on his face is nothing but blissful. The sight of a ruined god has always been one of Childe’s favorites.
He grabs him by the shoulders, marking him possessively all along the neck until he’s writhing beneath him again. Zhongli puts a hand against face as Childe’s breath presses hot along his collar.
“Th-there is no need to be so impatient, Childe. I am not going anywhere.”
Childe releases his flesh as the sweet hint of a bruise begins to form, leaving streaks of saliva where his mouth once rested. “You may have all the time in the world,” Childe says slowly, “but I’m not the kind of man who’ll wait.
“No one else can have you. No one should even be allowed to look at you.” No one will ever see you, care for you, crave you the way I do. And if they even dare to attempt such a thing, I will—
“I understand,” Zhongli murmurs. “But I cannot always be here to service you—” Childe sinks his teeth into flesh and Zhongli grunts in pain, grasping at the cushions. “Ah, hnmh—!”
There’s a grimace on his lips as the harbinger releases him, iron against his tongue. “It’s alright, Zhongli, I know.” He wipes his mouth. “We all have our own matters to attend to. Just keep me in your mind, will you?”
Zhongli exhales, reclining backward again, wrapping his arms back around Childe’s neck.
“Take me again,” he whispers.
Yes, Childe takes a special pride in knowing he’s the only one to see this wretched, obscene side of Zhongli, but what kind of owner doesn’t want to show off its prized pet to the world?
Tartaglia has never been known to settle.
Note to self, Childe observes, Zhongli does not like getting his ass grabbed in public.
Childe tries it the next time he sees Zhongli walking in the street and almost gets flipped on his ass for it. Zhongli grabs at his wrist without even looking, twisting his arm until Childe finds himself stumbling a good few feet away. What a subtle, refined move. It only confirms that he’s not the only one eyeing Zhongli’s pillowy goods.
“Excuse me.” The consultant’s expression changes from shock to displeasure to a stern grimace when he realizes who it is.
“…Do not do that.”
“Come on,” he says cheerily, “someone embarrassed?”
“Childe.” Zhongli scrunches his arm protectively against himself. “I simply do not appreciate being touched in public.”
Childe leans forward anyway, hand creeping around his waist, and Zhongli pushes him again. A little less forcefully this time, not enough to shove him off. “I do things to you that are far, far worse than this, sweetie.” His hair stands up on end. “It’s really no big deal, is it? Come on, let your favorite harbinger have a treat.”
“Our personal matters should be kept personal,” Zhongli replies solemnly, as Childe’s hand toys with the chain he keeps his Vision around. “I do not have time for this today.”
“Don’t you want to see everyone watch me claim you?” Childe smirks. “To let all of Liyue know you’ve become my adorable little cocksleeve? With how loud you are, it's a miracle the harbor doesn't already know."
Zhongli stumbles backward and Childe’s hand shoots forward to grab him by the waist.
In one word, Zhongli looks flustered. His face glows as Childe’s grip tightens and he wraps Zhongli even closer to his body, ignoring the hand pushing against his chest and the distraught expression on his face. “Come on, now. I want everyone to know you belong to me.” He’s sure Zhongli can feel his enormous cock rubbing against his thigh through the tight outline of his pants. His eyes dart away, as if looking for a way to escape.
Childe’s expression is dangerous and the way his hands wrap around him, even more so. Zhongli feels like he is suffocating beneath gaze and touch. “Childe,” he gasps. “Our personal matters should be kept personal.”
“Oh, personal?” Childe says, licking his lips. “I do love to keep things personal.” He reaches for Zhongli’s stomach, and Zhongli quickly grabs his wrist, jerking his arm away.
“I request you get your hands off me, or I will have to settle this matter with force. Do not be crass.” He tries to sound stern, but his voice trembles.
It really is hard for Childe to lay his hands off this man. He lets go, sighing as dramatically as possible. “As you wish, xiansheng. You really are no fun.”
Childe’s humming as he walks away, suddenly very, very horny. That look of distress on his face… Zhongli, so needy with him during sex, suddenly shy as a virgin when people are watching. How could that not turn him on?
He imagines pulling him to the side and shoving him against a wall. Tongue in his mouth right where everyone can see it, where everyone can see that Zhongli is his, hands wrapped tight around his cute, fuckable ass. Holding his trembling figure in his arms, fingering at the rim of his hole through the fabric of his pants until he’s begging to be stripped and fucked.
He’ll pull his wrists away as he tries to hide his blushing face, making sure everyone gets a good look at the kind of expressions the pretty consultant makes while getting it in the ass. Oh, it’s the perfect punishment for someone so uptight.
How would he feel putting on a show? Trying to bite back moans in front of an audience, letting his dignity fall to shreds as Childe pounds him into a needy, depraved whore. Trying not to break as Childe empties buckets of cum into him, until his mind finally snaps and he dissolves into that sweet chorus of more, more, more, knees knocking together and fluid dripping all over the pavement, no longer caring about the looks on people’s faces as his tongue hangs lewdly from his mouth…
Sweet Celestia. He wants this man ruined. The nastier, the filthier, the better.
In fact, he’s sure Zhongli already likes it. Nobody knows this man’s preferences better than he does, after all.
A bit of suggestion should work wonders, Childe muses. He’d already broken Zhongli into a moaning slut addicted to his cock. Just how much more to have him play the part of a shameless exhibitionist?
Devastatingly, Zhongli turns down all requests for him to wear any kind of revealing clothing in public, let alone any of the skimpy costumes Childe has set aside for him. Toys are out of the question, too.
“You already wear my buttplugs before you come to visit me,” Childe protests. “How is this any different?”
“To have something like that inside me at work is inappropriate,” Zhongli splutters. “I cannot be pleasuring myself at the funeral parlor like that…!”
“Then, think about it this way: it’s not about your pleasure,” Childe smirks, tilting Zhongli’s chin upward. “It’s a favor for me. You can do that much, can’t you?”
It doesn’t take long for Zhongli to crack, one lost bet and one humiliating punishment game later. Oh, Childe can be quite persuasive when he wants to be.
—Tartaglia always gets his way, ex-archon or not. The sooner Zhongli learns, the better.
Zhongli palms at his sleeves, gritting his teeth, trying to ignore the flush of embarrassment building in his cheeks.
By Childe’s standards—by his standards, now—this is very tame. Nothing but a simple body harness, ropes wrapping around his body and crossing at the centerline of his torso. They hug his stomach and cradle his chest—those “beautiful, lovely tits,” as Childe had called them—but give him plenty of room to breathe and move, only occasionally tugging at his flesh in a cruel reminder of his predicament.
Somehow, having to wear his daily uniform over it makes it that much more stifling. Zhongli sits in his own office tied up in shibari ropework, feeling the plug in his ass rubbing at him down below. Each little movement is accompanied by the sensation of ropes digging into skin and the nudge of blunt edge against prostate, sending little, shuddering sparks of pleasure up his skin. His knees knock together below the desk, as though that could possibly provide him some kind of relief from the pressure of the plug. Ignore it, he reminds himself. No one can see it. Act as though there is nothing there at all.
But he knows. He knows it all.
Even without Childe around him, he’s still helplessly bound by his commands. Each tug of the rope is a memory of his cruel smirk, his rough hands on his skin. Memories of being tied up and marked by Childe last night, fucked until he couldn’t breathe, forced to walk home with it still wrapped tightly around his body…
Just that alone is already enough distraction to pull him away from the book on medieval funerary rites Hu Tao had dug out from storage for him to sort. Zhongli is very, very aware that what he is doing here is tantamount to desecration. Indeed, he wants nothing more than to bury himself. In his hands, in bed, in thoughts of Childe’s enormous cock rearranging his guts until the day draws to a close.
Childe, he wants to gasp, feeling his cock harden in his pants. Childe. He’s glad he doesn’t say the name aloud, because he almost yelps when Hu Tao enters to deliver another stack of dusty books, feeling like a man stripped nude. He’s wearing enough layers to mask the ropes, but his own painful awareness of the situation is mortifying enough. If Hu Tao notices, he will likely never recover. Ever.
“Oy, oy, Zhongli. Is there something wrong?” Hu Tao blinks owlishly. “I thought you had fun sorting through these dusty old things, but you’ve been tripping over yourself all day. Don’t go making people think I overwork my employees to death!”
“It’s nothing,” he shudders, trying to shove his indecent office daydreams beneath the surface. It doesn’t work. “Just… distracted with some personal matters.”
It’s psychological, more than physical, but Childe knows how to drive right at Zhongli’s weak points far, far too well. He wonders if Childe is out there laughing at him.
“Oho. It’s that Fatui boy, isn’t it?”
It’s uncanny how easily Hu Tao hits it right on the nose, and Hu Tao knows it, too, because she cackles at the desperate expression Zhongli lets slip. “It’s written all over your face. Leave your schoolboy crushes at home, Zhongli, or go and confess. Haven’t you made up already? He’s totally crazy for you.” Somehow, Hu Tao always manages to be both very correct and extremely wrong.
“You’re right,” Zhongli sighs. “I… should not allow myself to be this much of a mess.” He straightens his tie and cracks open the tome again. Taking a deep breath, preparing himself for a long, long day.
His suffering is worth the self-satisfied look on Childe’s face when he tugs at Zhongli’s clothes later that day to reveal a glorious web of rope still intact. “So you really did leave yourself tied up," he marvels. "I half expected you to give up and go back on your word.”
“Contracts aren’t broken so easily,” Zhongli replies. Childe sits him down and has him turn around, working away the knots with masterful fingers. He doesn’t realize how exhausted he is until the ropes fall undone at his shoulders, and he lets out a long-needed sigh of relief, raw markings soothed by the cool air.
“How was your day?”
“Difficult,” he mumbles. Utterly embarrassing. He flushes at the memory of bending over to pick something he’d absentmindedly dropped to the floor, only to catch Ferrylady staring at him with red on her cheeks. No, there’s no way she could have noticed that…
Childe chuckles. “You won’t let me slap your cheeks in public, but you’ll let me tie you up and wear these ropes around with a cute little plug in your ass?”
Zhongli grumbles, but it comes out as more of a pout. Childe kisses him on the neck and squeezes his tits one more time for good measure, pinching at his nipples until they form sharp peaks in his fingers. “Of course you will. What a good boy. Listening to your master and doing as he says without complaint.” Zhongli shudders and whines as Childe squeezes his chest, rolling his nubs between fingers.
“Does this feel good, beautiful? When I play with your nipples like this?”
“Nn,” Zhongli pants, squeaking and whimpering beneath his touch. “A-ah, yes, sir, yes, it does.” Childe grins, increasing the intensity. So sensitive. Zhongli tilts his head backward, allowing dark locks to fall over his shoulders, shaking and trembling as Childe digs his nails into the firm centers of his pink buds. “Ngh—!”
“You did well today. Look at your body, already so soft and eager for my touch.”
Zhongli always feels a bit disoriented when Childe gets like this, sweet and gentle with his praise even as his grip stays rough, but he can’t say he doesn’t like it. He breathes in, taking in Childe’s scent, letting his muscles relax as Childe pets him and whispers words of praise in his ear. And he's right—he does feel more sensitive today.
“Now, be a good boy and show me your ass.”
Zhongli prostrates himself obediently on his stomach, presenting his ass to Childe with his knees bent at his sides. A whimper slips from his mouth as Childe curls his fingers around the plug and pulls it out in one smooth motion, slick dripping around the edges.
“Please,” Zhongli whines, voice hoarse and desperate as his hole clenches around nothing. “I need it.”
Zhongli lets his body go slack in Childe's firm grip. Groaning as he feels Childe bury his cock deep inside of him, thrusting in and out of his well-loosened hole with wet, sloppy noises. It reaches down to his very core, burrowing into him so deeply with each rough, forceful thrust that he feels the impact at his belly. Even the squeeze of Zhongli’s tight ass around his cock isn’t enough to slow him down, hips snapping rhythmically with a hungering need.
“Nmff, nghn, mnf…”
Childe plows him into the sofa with reckless abandon and Zhongli goes boneless, drooling, moans muffled by the pillow in his arms and the edges of the sofa.
It feels heavenly. To submit to Childe like this, let him fuck him like this. Utterly cock-stupid, covered in love marks and pumped full of thick Fatui cock. This is truly where he belongs. Right beneath Childe, filled with his seed…
Zhongli comes with a moan, eyes fluttering, as Childe fucks him through his orgasm, milking shot after shot of cum from his weeping dick until Zhongli collapses into a weak, trembling pile on his stomach, eyes rolled back ever-so-slightly from bliss.
Childe gathers him up in his arms and rests over his back in a comforting embrace, breath warm on his neck. Zhongli feels his eyes flutter shut with exhaustion. He could fall asleep like this all too easily.
“Would you do it all again for me?” Childe murmurs, trailing on as if lost in thought. “Tie yourself up again, all for me? We can change a few things up, too… increase the size of the plug, loosen up your cute little hole even further. So big you can barely walk around in it. You’ll be forcing your trembling legs forward, knowing I’ll punish you if you stop. Or maybe I’ll fuck you, first, and you can walk around all day with my cum sloshing around in your guts.”
And, fuck, Zhongli is hard again. He doesn’t even realize he’s drooling until Childe snaps him back to attention. “Xiansheng? Did you fall asleep?”
He grabs his face to tilt him upward and no, he’s obviously wide awake, face flushed unbearably red and eyes still slightly unfocused from getting the life pounded out of him. Childe just chuckles at the sight. “You like my ideas, don’t you? You always do. Just look at how hard you are.” He palms at his leaking cock and Zhongli’s hips twitch, legs shaking at his touch.
“Let’s do it again,” Childe whispers sweetly. “Outside, this time. We can fuck in Yujing Terrace, behind Yuehai Pavilion, right where only Ningguang’s secretaries can see. You’ll take off your coat and reveal what a slut you are with that tight harness wrapped around your chest, legs spread wide with a cute little plug keeping you full, and then you’ll thrust your tight little hole over my cock, moaning so loud the Millelith come running—”
“But by then,” Childe smirks, running a finger over the curve of Zhongli’s lip, “we’ll be long gone. Whoosh. What do you think?”
“You’re not serious,” Zhongli says, slowly.
“Of course I am. So? Down for another round?”
Childe raises an eyebrow. “No?”
“I—” He exhales, trying to find the words. “I do not want to risk this sort of thing again. Hu Tao almost… This is a bad idea. A very bad idea.”
“Oh, that’s part of the fun,” Childe laughs. “Didn’t you enjoy the thrill? Wasn’t it hot? Come on, beautiful, do it for me. You did such a good job today. I wanna fuck you where the guards can’t catch us.” He starts to draw circles around the rim of Zhongli’s puckered hole again, massaging the reddened flesh teasingly.
Zhongli’s fingers bunch a little more tightly around the pillow he’s clutching, shoulders trembling, and Childe thinks he has him. But he bites his lip and then shakes his head obstinately again.
“No. You know I don’t like it.”
Don’t like it?
It’s that stubborn look that makes Childe want to ruin him so badly. The one he made when Childe pulled him onto his cock for the first time, dolled up in the bunny costume with cute ears bouncing lightly over his head, and the one he’s making now. It’s kind of cute, actually. Childe cocks his head.
Perhaps it’ll be all the more fun when he finally gets to break him in. Sure, he’s disappointed, and slightly surprised, but he wasn't wholly unprepared.
“Alright, then,” Childe says slowly. “If that’s what you want, I understand. I can’t make you do what you don’t want to do, can I?”
Zhongli acquiesces, letting Childe clean him off and dress him back up again. Then, before he’s about to leave—
“I have a present for you,” Childe says, placing an envelope in Zhongli’s hands. “This letter will explain what it is. Don’t open it until you get the signal, alright? It has instructions on how to use it.”
Zhongli peers at it curiously on the way home, wondering what could possibly be written inside.
In retrospect, Zhongli didn’t know why he didn’t question Childe’s “present” a bit more. Or why the harbinger, normally so pushy and overbearing, was so willing to let Zhongli refuse his proposal yesterday.
It was only after being literally fucked awake that Zhongli realized the nature of Childe’s present was unlikely to be pleasant for him, and that he’d definitely made some sort of big, big mistake.
Zhongli opens his eyes with a start, feeling hands ghost across his chest and thighs. Something wasn’t right. No, something was inside of him. Squeezing against his prostate, keeping him wet and—Zhongli jerks upward, saliva pooling in his mouth—horrifyingly stimulated. He can’t stop the electric sparks of pleasure from shooting up his body, dizzying his mind and making his legs quiver in instinct.
Zhongli peels back the sheets, panting, and sees a bright, blue, glowing riptide mark below his belly button.
No. His mouth goes dry as all the pieces click together instantly.
Zhongli lets out short gasps for air, grabbing uselessly at himself with trembling hands as he scrambles for the letter at his bedside. Tearing it open with neat fingernails, too impatient to see the contents to preserve its integrity.
“Ah, ngh, ah…”
All hope is lost the second he reads the contents of the letter, shoulders trembling and eyes widening in horror.
‘Enjoying my surprise? Don’t worry, it’s nothing life-threatening, just a bit of good fun. ♡
By now, you ought to be very familiar with the mechanics of my riptide mark. If you want me to remove it, head to Northland Bank at 4 PM for further instructions. Or, you can find a way to deal with cumming in your pants every five minutes for the next 48 hours.
Enjoy the trip, xiansheng!’
Zhongli claps a hand over his mouth to stop a moan from spilling out, barely able to stand up on two shaking legs. Childe, that sadist, clearly expected him to traipse across half of Liyue like this, making an utter fool of himself all along the way.
“Agh, nnghn, ah… Childe…!”
The name slips out involuntarily as Zhongli collapses to his knees, feeling the stimulation crank up so hard he can no longer control his body. He trembles on all fours, Childe’s elemental energy smashing relentlessly against his prostate. It’s simply unfair. Childe can’t possibly expect him to…
He bites his lip, eyes rolling back, feeling the blood rush down. Fuck, he can’t—
And, just like that, Zhongli comes. Still in his nightwear, crawling on all fours, unable to even fathom dragging himself out the front door like this. 48 more hours like this? There’s no way he could possibly—
He’s a sweaty, dripping mess by the time he makes it to Northland Bank, strands of hair sticking to his forehead and drool pooling in his mouth, legs trembling with each step. His face is bright red, shiny with sweat and painted over with a permanent look of mortification.
The staff, already familiar with his frequent visits to the harbinger, don’t question anything when he collapses over the counter looking like he’s just been fucked within an inch of his life, trembling and flushed and disheveled with his lips coated with a slick sheen of spit. What’s more humiliating are the stares of the strangers nearby that he has to endure as he walks down the hall of the Northland Bank, heels clicking unevenly over newly-swept tiles.
With the bank’s loss of business since the Fatui incident, the place is too quiet. There’s no crowd cover, the way there is on the streets, no bustling noises to distract from the client walking up to the front desk. Every one of Zhongli’s shaky breaths and stifled moans feel magnified, echoing lewdly throughout the high-roofed chamber. He can’t bear to be here for one moment longer.
“Childe… is he here?”
He tries his best not to sound like he’s on the verge of creaming his pants, but it comes out in a raspy squeak anyways. Ekaterina hands him the letter without a word and shakes her head, giving him a pitying look. As if she already knows of the kind of cruel activities her boss deems “entertainment.”
Zhongli feels his heart sink. He tears the envelope open, and his day only just keeps getting worse.
‘Congratulations on making it this far, you filthy pervert. Outside of your comfort zone yet? Ready to give up? Or are you secretly enjoying walking around like this?
Come to this location by nightfall if you want your freedom back. I eagerly await—both you, and all the new rumors you’ve started.’
It comes with a hastily drawn doodle. A map. Zhongli’s knees buckle. So, the wild goose chase doesn’t end here.
“Sir,” Ekaterina exclaims.
“I’m alright,” Zhongli pants, gripping onto the ledge of the counter. He doesn’t think he looks or sounds particularly convincing. His sweat drips over the shiny tiles, expression contorting like he’s being tortured.
He doesn’t know how much longer he can take this anymore. “Ah, I’m… ngh…!!”
He can barely stop the lewd noises from coming out his mouth. It’s too much to hope Ekaterina doesn’t notice. His eyes grow wide as his thighs start to shake, fingers gripping down so hard his knuckles turn white. Breath escaping his mouth in quick, loose pants.
It feels like he's being fucked in the ass. He'll never forget that sensation, the feeling of Childe's cock sliding in and out of his wet, desperate hole.
Oh, oh, ah, oh—
Zhongli bites down too late, realizing that he’s making those sounds aloud. But what’s less important is the noises he’s making, it’s that—
His eyes roll back as the trembling in his legs becomes uncontrollable. He feels hot, like the layers of his vest and jacket are pulling at him. The waves of pressure build, and build, until he feels as though he’s about to burst.
Right on the verge of release. He can’t come, not here. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t—
And then, without warning, he feels something cold but firm constrict around his cock, beating back the sensation. A ring. Made with Childe’s powers.
It’s as if the harbinger is saying, keep going. I’m watching.
"Sir? Sir? Do you need someone to escort you outside?"
Zhongli shudders and shakes, wiping the sticky strands of hair out of his face. He doesn't think he can ever show his face there ever again.
“...Speaking of which, is this new?”
Childe blinks. “What?” Oh—the couch? “Yes.”
He’d forgotten about that. He grabs a pillow, throwing it in Zhongli’s arms. “I got it for us, to make things a little more comfortable. Thought a change of furniture was needed in this dusty old office anyway.”
“Appreciated,” Zhongli chuckles.
split this chapter in half for length’s sake. what will happen next, I wonder…?
"zhongli bullying!" (crowd cheers)
Chapter 5: my game, my rules
Childe faces some consequences.
warning for dubcon again (+ dubious consensual non-consent and actual non-con, briefly) and some bad feelings during sex. bad decisions are made, on childe's part
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
(Some time, before.)
“Stay put,” Childe warns sweetly. Zhongli bobs in understanding, wet mouth enclosed around the harbinger’s cock. The gloved hand at the base of his neck is merely a formality—there’s a firm ache in his jaw, but he wouldn’t dare pull off.
Not even as he hears the door creak open, and then Childe say, “It’s time,” inducing a jolt of surprise. He left the door unlocked for a recruit to deliver his report. Even with Zhongli like this, dripping and quivering at his feet with his dick in his mouth—
Childe nudges his cock deeper down his throat and ignores the thrash of protest as Zhongli tries not to gag, desperate not to make a noise. As Zhongli’s hips jerk, he feels the cool beads shift within him, rubbing against his tight walls, and he almost moans around his cock before he catches himself slipping. Tears slip down his cheeks, leaving his eyes red and wet.
He closes them and tries not to think of what would happen if he were discovered, stripped down with legs spread wide and a ludicrously-shaped toy stuffed deep in his hole. Bent over the carpet on all fours like a pet—made to warm a harbinger’s cock beneath his desk, mouth wet and hot with saliva dripping down his firm shaft. Just the thought of it makes him clench involuntarily around the toy keeping him full.
The instant Zhongli hears the door slam shut behind them, Childe collapses, yanking Zhongli’s head backward, and Zhongli winces as come splatters over his face to paint his nose and cheeks in white. “You did amazing,” Childe laughs. “Oh, that was amazing. Sucking cock so good with someone watching—you liked that, didn’t you? Hm?”
Zhongli, on his knees, can only look up with a resigned but fond expression that says: well, for you.
“So good for me. So good for me, Zhongli. Archons, you’re just so wonderful.” Fingers rub at his scalp and he just nods, cum-drenched eyelashes fluttering as the warm glow of his praise reaches his cheeks.
Each step is agony.
What had been his saving grace is now a curse. Zhongli desperately needs to come, but each time the tight, coiling pressure finally builds to a peak, inviting release, that ring pinches cruelly until the sensation wanes and he’s left gasping and heaving for breath. Frustrated and desperate, cheeks burning with guilt at his own eagerness to make a fool of himself.
And then Childe fucks him back open and the cycle repeats all over again. Zhongli is going delirious, mind a haze as he drags his feet one before the other. Thankful, at the very least, that he isn’t a dripping mess down there, come leaking out his stained underwear and down his thighs, with the number of times he’s nearly come in his pants.
Most people pass him by without batting an eye as he steadies himself against the wall, trying not to clutch at his ass. ‘Most people’ is the issue, of course, but Zhongli will take what he can get when he’s been reduced to his kind of state. His multiple layers of clothes pull at him, heavy, suffocating, his flushed skin sticky and laden with sweat. In the centuries he's spent walking the streets of Liyue, he has never once felt like this.
Focus. He has to let the world drown out, lest he succumb to sheer mortification. The feeling of Childe squeezing tight between his walls is driving him mad, the occasional pulse of the riptide mark that’ll send his legs knocking together and hand flying to his mouth to stifle a moan.
And his ass is still sore. Zhongli, it seems, has completely and utterly become Childe’s personal toy. Tossed around as he deems fit. If there is a lesson to be learned, Zhongli has never learned it. He lets his guard down and pays the price every single time.
Because, as he’s come to know, Childe excels at wearing him down. Humiliating him, breaking his composure, nudging him in the direction he wants to go until Zhongli trips right into his grasp. It’s a game he’s designed for the two of them, and one he plans never to lose.
Even as Zhongli’s body grows heavy with pleasure, weariness, and desperation, there’s a certain clarity in his suffering. It would be so easy to stop resisting, his mind begs. He can bend over voluntarily or stand tall until he snap. The same conclusion, an illusion of choice. If he were truly wise, a part of him suggests, he would knock some sense into himself and stop playing along.
But archons, Zhongli can’t deny that even with all of this, he wants nothing more than to split himself apart on his cock right now. Wants his hands on him, grabbing and groping until he’s shuddering with desire. Zhongli throbs at the thought. Maybe Childe was right: he is a ‘cock-addicted whore.’ Specifically, Childe’s cock-addicted whore, because no one will ever satisfy him the way he can ever again.
Don’t you want to please him?
But pleasing him is impossible. What Childe wants from him is impossible. Outrageous. He signed up for this, but Zhongli can’t help but feel betrayed. When he reaches Childe, he will have some choice words.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
He’s lost in thought, so close to his destination, until an arm grabs him and drags him quickly around a corner. Zhongli whirls around and comes face to face with a hooded Fatui agent he doesn’t recognize, eyes cloaked behind a mask and features obscured by the darkness.
Oh, no. He was so caught up in his mind, he hadn’t noticed—
“Scared?” the Fatui soldier drawls, seeing Zhongli taking a step back. He lunges forward and slams him against a wall, wrists pinned. Ordinarily, Zhongli could easily have broken free or dodged such a simple attack, but he finds himself… distracted, to say the least.
So he can do nothing but squirm as the agent slots a leg suggestively between Zhongli’s thighs, spreading them apart. Zhongli gasps as he feels the riptide mark resonate again—a moan slipping from his mouth, back arching in instinct, as pleasure tears through him once more.
“Ah —n-no, ah—”
No, the worst case scenario—!
The intensity mounts and Zhongli writhes, almost as though he’s rutting against the man’s leg, desperate to be fucked and handled. His cheeks flush bright red with embarrassment. “Get off,” he gasps, aware of how lewdly his voice trickles out. Aware, aware. Zhongli is far too aware of how he must look right now, what must be on this man’s mind.
He must look absolutely wretched, desperate, as he grapples weakly with the gloved hands keeping him pinned. It’s as though Childe’s riptide mark had sucked the energy from him, leaving him a trembling mess. Zhongli’s fury toward Childe is momentarily superseded by humiliation at having been caught here, rock-hard, as he tries not to come in his own pants from being grabbed by a stranger.
“Sir,” he gasps. “I suggest you let go—”
"Or else what?" The man doesn’t budge.
“...Oh? And what’s this?”
Zhongli follows his line of sight and looks down, with horror, to find the riptide mark shining through his clothing. Three watery petals blooming outward, emitting a brilliant blue light , that would have been a beautiful sight if they weren’t the cause of Zhongli’s current difficulties in life.
Why? Zhongli blinks in bewilderment, legs trembling. Why, now, is it becoming so obvious—?
“Some kind of Vision thing? But, weren’t you a Geo user?” His hand reaches forward, lightly glancing over the mark on Zhongli’s stomach.
A single touch is enough.
A burst of pleasure surges into Zhongli’s entire body, deafening. His hands ball into trembling fists, curling inward, body shaking with a jolt —
…and Zhongli cums right then and there, unable to stifle a cry. The orgasm hits him hard, staved off for so long it rips through his body in a burst of fire. Zhongli’s mind reels, tears squeezing out his eyes from the intensity.
The bewildered, amused, and then delighted face of the Fatui dances in the dim light as he tries to hold back his voice, eyes rolling back and a choked, faint moan escaping from his lips. It leaves him utterly incapacitated as it wanes, legs trembling uncontrollably and head thrown back.
“You came,” the voice says, half in awe and half in cruel delight. Shame boils in his cheeks, body still seized with the shuddering aftershocks. How unbecoming, he can hear Childe’s voice echo. He looks away, eyes wide, hardly able to believe it himself.
“So that’s how it is.” The man doesn’t move his leg from Zhongli’s shaking thighs, faint stain invisible in the darkness but obvious to them both. “You’re just a pervert, a freak. Practically pissed yourself.”
The callous tone is familiar. Zhongli gasps for breath, renewing his efforts to shove his captor away, but he won’t budge. His limbs feel like jelly. Useless. His wrists are pinned together, a hand coming forward to grab his chin and tilt his face back up.
“Haha… you make the sweetest expression when you’re embarrassed.”
That voice— he shoves his face close, and as Zhongli gets a better look at him, he notices reddish curls peek out from under his hood.
Oh, good heavens.
…It is Childe, that bastard.
Several emotions pounce forth at once. A wave of relief, fury for he’s had to endure, a mad desperation for him to make it all stop. Before Zhongli can get a word out, the masked man quickly presses a finger to his lips, silencing him. The mere touch of hand against mouth sends a spark shuddering down to his lower half.
“Look like someone you know, sweetheart? You’re mistaken.”
So that’s what this is about. The man kisses him before he can piece his words together, and Zhongli confirms that yes, this is indeed Childe. He would never forget the taste or shape of his mouth . The harbinger—no, Fatui agent—pins Zhongli back to the wall, hand tangled in his dark hair, continuing to knead against his crotch.
Fire pools in Zhongli at the implication of what is about to happen next.
“As for me, my dear consultant, I happen to be very familiar with you.” He kisses him some more, biting and sucking at his mouth, all teeth and tongue. Zhongli didn’t stand a chance, not against his lips and the rough hand tugging at his locks— “how often I’ve watched you—” devouring, devouring, devouring— “hoping to— get a chance with you.”
He’s released and the man’s elbow slams forward, caging off escape. Forcing their bodies close together, until Zhongli feels crushed by the very weight of his heat. “Mmmm, nn,” Zhongli moans, trying to push the man on top of him away. “Nm—ah, please—“
“You’re burning up, beautiful.” He isn’t lying. Zhongli is flushed to the tips of his toes, shivering, babbling half-formed pleas as Childe keeps him pinned tightly to the wall. “Are you scared? Shy? Or are you just that turned on by all of this?”
“Stop this,” Zhongli pants. “All of this. I-I’m not—”
“Does it excite you?” the man whispers in his ear. “Getting fucked in an alley by a stranger? Forced to walk around in public with a mark over your womb, cumming whenever I please until you’re a broken, sopping mess.”
Zhongli lets out a wet noise as another surge causes his knees to buckle, and he feels the man’s hand drift down to squeeze hard against his ass, groping and kneading hungrily through the form-fitting fabric of his pants. “I… ah, ah, nh—!! Ah— not here—” He’s actually being serious—
“Please, not here, I—”
“But your body is reacting so well. Or, maybe, you’re just always this sensitive?”
Zhongli chokes on his words, squirming and jerking. ‘Reacting well’—Childe is right, he can barely hold onto his sanity. He wants, no, needs it. Childe’s hand squeezes even more playfully at his ass, pushing against the spot where his rim should be, as if to remind him how close he is to being split apart on his huge cock. How tight he is right now, how loose he could be after a good old-fashioned fucking.
“Wow, look at that. You are hard,” Childe whistles. So it’s true, after all. The funeral parlor consultant is nothing but a slut, willing to offer his body to anyone who asks.”
“N-no,” Zhongli denies helplessly, cheeks growing hot, and cock growing harder from anticipation. “It’s not—no, I don’t—“
The man squeezes his ass one last time and Zhongli is helpless as he begins to strip him, making short work of the buttons of his coat and letting his outerwear fall ungraciously to the floor. He’s still fully dressed, and yet naked before Childe’s gaze.
“N-not… not outside, not here…”
Childe grabs at Zhongli’s nipples through his silk shirt against his fumbling protests, already hard from his rough treatment, and rubs rough circles around them as the other hand drifts lower. Zhongli lets out another noise as he starts to palm at his erection through the soaked fabric of his pants, cock desperate for attention.
“Look at this, your nipples are visible through your shirt. That’s how hard they are right now.” He pulls at them again and Zhongli keens, body arching into his touch. “So pink and juicy. I had no idea office-wear could look this scandalous—are you aware of how you look right now? Or do you always wear clothes this thin on purpose, just to tease me?”
“Nn… a-ah…” Zhongli gasps, hands pressed against the wall. He feels as though he’s about to burst. “Stop it, please, stop—we can’t, people might—”
“Or perhaps it’s the wearer,” he finishes cheerfully. “It suits you, with that body of yours. You may be oblivious, but we’re all thinking it, Zhongli. How easy it would be to grab your ridiculously narrow waist and fuck you until you scream.” Zhongli whimpers, trying to bat him away. As if to punish him for this, the hands at his nipples tug harder, pinching and pulling until he’s a shuddering wreck. “Put that slutty body of yours to use, fucking every single one of your holes raw until you’re shown your place.”
“And you like it, don’t you? Being treated like a whore. It’s why you strut the streets like that, inviting such needy hands on you.”
Childe grabs Zhongli by the waist and pulls him closer, and he becomes painfully aware of just how much of his middle Childe’s hands can wrap around. Zhongli is choking with tearful desire now, clawing weakly at Childe’s chest as he kisses him again, saliva dripping everywhere and tongue diving deep in his mouth. Childe grips onto him like he’ll never let go, so close Zhongli can feel his cock grinding up against him again.
“Afraid of people seeing? Hearing?” Fingers dig into skin. “As if the whole of Liyue doesn’t already know what a slut you are.”
He’s pinned between Childe’s warm chest and the cold wall behind him, slick dripping down his bare legs, drowning, drowning, drowning. Swallowed by burning heat and arousal, the need to sate the monstrous urge that Childe had so cruelly seeded in him.
He can imagine Childe holding his waist just like that, thrusting into him over and over and over until he’s choking back tears. He’s practically drooling for it.
Childe doesn’t need to say it, not when Zhongli already knows. The buildup, what was it all for? They’ve already come so far. Zhongli’s eyes flutter, mind heady with pleasure.
This isn’t so bad, is it? They could both get what they want. Childe makes it so, so easy to forget about the world around him, until it’s all bathed in red and grey. He can let Childe have his way, again. (He wants Childe to call him good, just one more time.) Right now, all he wants, no, needs is —
The riptide mark starts to fade until Zhongli is left empty, cold, brittle against Childe’s devices. He bucks against his leg, desperate for some form of stimulation to return. A moan of want escapes, cheeks flushing at his own miserable, deprived state.
“Of course, my little birdie. You want more, don’t you? You want a good, healthy helping of Fatui cock.” Zhongli whines, trembling, burying his face in Childe’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, there’s only a small chance someone will see us. Take a look around.”
A hand curls up against his face, warm. It’s surprisingly quiet here, the bustle of the street quite a distance away. Zhongli catches his breath, still clenching his fists weakly. But what about the people in the buildings…?
The thought promptly recedes back into the darkness.
“Unless you want them to,” Childe continues. “Isn’t that right?”
“Please—” Zhongli shudders, fingers twitching. “Ugh, ah, please—”
“Please what? Use your words, puppy.”
He needs it. He needs Childe inside him, now.
“Fuck me,” Zhongli begs.
“Right here, in the open?”
“I don’t care,” Zhongli sobs, voice raising in pitch. “Take me, just take me, I don’t care.” He’s rutting against Childe’s legs, long past caring about appearances. A familiar scene, cliche. He can’t find it in himself to care. “Make me yours. Ruin me—!”
Correct answer. The masked man’s lips curl in delight as he watches him beg, all semblance of dignity sacrificed to the wind. “Good boy,” he purrs. “I knew you had it in you.”
Any capacity for gentleness disappears. Zhongli is dragged by the hair and flipped forward roughly, slammed against the wall by the chest, pants stripped so quickly they’re practically torn off. Childe spreads his cheeks, still marked and bruised from yesterday, ordering Zhongli to place his hands on the wall.
He complies, entire body trembling. His shirt hangs loosely over his naked body like rags, pants and underwear stripped down to his ankles. There is no more cover for him. He might as well be fully nude, standing out here like this; the dignified air of Zhongli is gone once more. Childe has a unique way of making him not feel quite like himself.
“These rope markings,” the man observes, tracing the outlines over his skin. He shivers. “You like being tied up, hm? Did your boyfriend do that to you? Do you moan and cry when he fucks you on his cock, gagged and bound with his hands around your throat?”
A hand comes up to stroke at his neck, sensing the way Zhongli swallows at those words. “I had no idea you had such dirty interests, Zhongli. Handsome and refined on the outside, total whore on the inside… I know your type all too well.”
“I’m not… I…”
The words tumble out of his mouth, but Zhongli doesn’t know what he’s saying. Because he is. He is a slut, a whore, Childe’s perfect, obedient cocksleeve. He feels the outline of Childe’s cock grinding against the cleft of his ass and all he can think is, huge, huge, huge and I want it. Zhongli is practically salivating at the thought of it inside him, ramming into his guts until he can’t think.
“Handprints all over your ass, bruises all over your neck… so you like it rough. Guess you should be grateful, then, because I’m not planning to treat you gently.” He repositions Zhongli against the wall, squeezing at his hips. “You’ll want to be quiet, now. If word got out about this, you’d never be able to show your face in Liyue again. I’ve got quite the reputation, you see.”
The consultant grasps against the tiles, pants loose around his legs and shirt already soaked in sweat. Make me feel good, Zhongli wants to beg. Childe quickly slaps a hand over his mouth.
“You’re nothing but a tight, warm hole for me to fuck, understand? Good holes don’t say anything. They bend over pretty and make cute noises when the time is right.”
Zhongli nods weakly, driven half-mad from arousal. He yelps as he feels a hand slap his cheeks, sting burning along skin.
Loud. The sound startles him, a shiver running along his spine. Another slap, even harder and louder than before. Zhongli can hardly bite back his own cry.
“W-wait,” he rasps, before the next strike comes down. “Someone might…”
“Did I say you could speak?”
Zhongli quickly shuts up, cock throbbing between his legs. “I’m the one dishing out the orders here.”
Childe hits him a few more times before he crumples, pliant in his grip, clenching his teeth so desperately he feels each strike rattling in his head. They’re casual, almost natural. Just another way for him to demonstrate his power.
And then, he feels the heavy slide of Childe’s cock against his ass. “Not a word, understand?” His skin is slick beneath Childe’s fingers, breathy whines escaping in needy little pants. He nods. He’s ready. He’s always been ready—
Hips slap flush against his ass as he rams in all the way to the hilt. Zhongli’s eyes roll back slightly with a long, fulfilled moan flowing from his mouth. Archons, he feels so full. Childe’s cock is finally in him, plugging him up, slotting inside so perfectly—it’s what he’s wanted all this time, to be filled with a cock perfectly shaped to his insides. A shape Childe has carved all on his own, with all the times he’s fucked Zhongli to his very limits.
“Quiet,” Childe murmurs in reminder.
The riptide mark reappears to glow faintly with each shallow thrust. He doesn’t pull out all the way, not at first, instead slamming his cock forward in deep, needy thrusts. Slap, slap. A slow, gradual rhythm emerges, cock sinking confidently into Zhongli as he’s kept sandwiched between Childe’s body and the wall.
“Mmn, ngh… ngh…”
Zhongli’s hole practically swallows him up, over and over and over with each roll of the hips. Squeezing fiercely around his cock, the friction of his tight walls enveloping everything. Childe grabs his waist, thrusting repeatedly against a spot that makes Zhongli see stars, and his mind and body melts to putty. He doesn’t want it to stop. He bucks backward mindlessly, chasing that pleasure with his legs spread wide.
“Shh. Just look at how needy you are, moving your hips like that. Practically fucking yourself on my cock.”
Another thrust. Wet squelching noises accompany the image of Childe’s cock plunging in and out of Zhongli’s hole, emerging for a brief moment before slamming back in to send the consultant’s vision spinning. “Mnh, ah, ah—“
He tries his hardest not to cry out but Childe just thrusts harder, like he’s attempting to fuck a scream out of him. “What a good little slut. Knew you were perfect for me, right from the moment I laid my eyes on you.”
Zhongli whimpers. Childe keeps him wrapped tightly in his arms, gloved hand slapped over his mouth. Pounding into his slender body like a sleeve, so hard that his body shakes with each thrust. He can barely catch his breath before the next thrust arrives, stretching him firmly around his length.
Tears slip out the corners of his eyes. He feels so full. He doesn’t care, doesn’t care that he’s being fucked out in the middle of the city, where any unsuspecting individual might turn the corner, doesn’t care that he’s a self-proclaimed enemy or that he’d spent the last several hours torturing and humiliating him on his walk around Liyue. It’s Childe. And Childe knows just how to use him best. Slap. His eyes roll back slightly, victory blossoming in his expression.
Before he even realizes it himself, Zhongli’s moans are slipping out in warbled pleas, of Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me through the gaps in the harbinger’s gloves as Childe drills him mercilessly, slamming him against the wall until his balls slap against his thighs. Zhongli feels his cock drive deep, thick and throbbing in his guts, sliding in and out of his slick hole with ease as Childe fucks him faster and faster.
“Ah, mnh, fuck me, ah f-fuck me—harder, harder, ha-harder—” The words come out more and more jumbled, but it hardly matters.
“Can’t even hold your lewd voice back, huh?” Zhongli splutters as he feels two fingers enter his mouth, body jerking as he chokes around them. A gag. They quickly become coated with saliva, fucking in and out of his mouth, reaching deeper and deeper until tears spill down his face from the sensation of Childe violently hitting the back of his throat. He's whimpering and drooling, loud whines spilling out incessantly as he’s jabbed and prodded from both ends.
“Careful, beautiful, you might want to watch your volume.” The statement is punctuated by another earth-shattering thrust to his prostate that sends Zhongli reeling.
Childe sucks in a breath through his teeth. It’s a power trip, to fuck a god in the back alley of his own city like a cheap whore. To use him to chase his own pleasure without a single care in the world, scraping and hollowing out his soft, slick insides until he unravels in the perfect shape of his cock.
Zhongli will be his.
No, he already is.
By now, he’s stopped attempting to make out words, whimpering as each thrust pushes him over the edge. “I’m close,” Childe says. The pressure lifts off his waist.
And then Zhongli gasps as he feels two, strong hands wrap around his neck, cutting off his airflow. Childe doesn’t stop thrusting into him like a mindless beast, filling the air with wet, slick noises and grunts until all Zhongli can think about is how big Childe’s cock feels in him, hitting every inch of him with each thrust, how he needs to come, how the breath stolen from him pumps each one of these sensations straight to his oxygen-deprived mind. The floorboards creak beneath their shifting weight, the evening sounds of the city masking the unseemly noises coming out his mouth.
Childe’s cock is splitting him apart, it’s going to split him apart. Zhongli has never felt this hot in his life. Childe doesn’t stop—he keeps rolling and rolling his hips, pounding into him with that fat cock of his, ramming against into his prostate with relentless accuracy until Zhongli thinks this is how he’s going to break. Drool spilling out mindlessly and ass stretched full until his hole is a raw, aching, mess.
He comes. The lack of oxygen heightens the sensation until he feels himself being ripped away from everything. There is nothing, only how good it feels, right here and right now raw in Childe’s hands.
Childe lets go of him right as black spots start dancing at the edges of his vision. A shot of cum flows into his belly, warming him from the inside out. He faintly registers the tears streaking down his face once more as he takes in desperate gasps of air, hands pulling at his hair, pulling at his skin.
He feels as though he could collapse to the floor entirely if not for the firm grip around his waist, bringing him back to the cool chill of Liyue Harbor. The noises of the city return. It becomes clear that he’s desecrated some poor folks’ building with their act, but there’s nothing to be done about it now. He feels the rest of Childe’s seed dribbling weakly out his hole as he pulls out.
With the cobwebs rising high above their heads and the dirt and dust accumulating on the walls, Zhongli can’t help but feel a sense of vulnerability. Like something should have been left inside, where only Childe’s eyes could see. As the pleasant drowsiness dispels, the feeling of bliss becomes mixed with a chilling anxiety, legs trembling and body empty once more.
He suddenly feels as though he’s been plunged into cold water. Like Childe had just fucked him back into lucidity.
—He was agitated about something, earlier. Traipsing along Liyue, humiliated and upset, contemplating the nature of his submission. What was it? His eyes blink, ever-so-slightly glazed over. He feels Childe’s gaze on him every time he reaches for that thought, telling him to let it go.
The riptide mark glows happily, as though it’s been fed, as though it wants more. Of course. Childe still hungers, and Zhongli knows he still has far, far more left to provide.
He grapples at Childe’s wrist, but the man doesn’t let go. For, as he quickly realizes, Childe is already erect.
His cheeks go red, jaw trembling.
“Wasn’t that fun?” Childe murmurs. Zhongli holds his breath as he takes hold of his ass, spreading his hole open once more. The fear and crawling unease mixes with arousal, twisting around in his gut, a monstrous jumble of need impossible to placate.
He moans, incoherent, and Childe easily takes it for a yes. His cock sinks back in. He bites the inside of his cheek, shaking, a warm hand on his hip to steady him as he’s stretched open.
“All of Rex Lapis’s forms, and you choose this one. So beautiful, so tight. Makes me want to fuck you all day, keeping you speared open on my cock all pretty like this.”
“Ah, ngh, ah…” Childe shifts his hips, rubbing around inside him. It’s agonizing. His eyes flutter as he grasps weakly for Childe, wetness on his lashes. “Ah, wait, we sh-shouldn’t…”
“Shouldn’t what? We’ve come so far, look. Can’t you picture it?” He can’t see the man, but he can hear his murmurs between the walls of the buildings. “I could keep going on like this til midnight, til dawn breaks tomorrow and the shops all open up again.”
The strings in Zhongli’s mind tug and bend. He thinks his mind really will snap if Childe does that. “And then I’ll send you back to work tomorrow morning with your ass slick and loose, clothes dripping with cum. A fun reminder of our nighttime rendezvous. Your boss would like that, wouldn’t she?”
Childe leans in, pressing a kiss against his neck. There’s irony in the chastity of it, with how he’s been rawing him like a monster.
Zhongli shudders. Even as he cranes to look at Childe, the absence of his familiar, cobalt-blue eyes sends chills down his spine. “No need to resist,” the harbinger murmurs. Zhongli muffles a moan as he thrusts inside again, keeping their bodies pressed together.
“I’ll take care of you. Relax, Zhongli. Let me make you feel good.”
Give in. Give yourself to me.
Childe’s soft whispers take effect in no time at all, pouring through the cracks like soft honey. Childe smiles as he sees Zhongli let out a choked sob, body melting weakly into his grip.
“After all, you’re mine.”
He slams his cock in in one smooth motion as if to prove the point and sends Zhongli careening, back arching magnificently to meet the sensation of his thick length kissing his insides. His eyes roll back slightly, eyes blown wide, and he slaps his hand over Childe’s wrist as he reaches forward to place his palm over Zhongli’s tummy.
Too weak, and too late. Childe doesn’t budge, not even with Zhongli’s renewed effort. He proceeds to mindlessly roll his hips into Zhongli’s body with ease, hands wrapped securely around his waist with each slap against his ass. He’s gagging, panting, soaked in sweat and trembling from overstimulation.
“A-ah—! Ah, ngh, ah—“
“Keep moaning, and everyone’s going to come running,” Childe reminds him. He smashes his hips forward again, squelching noises echoing hauntingly between the walls. “Anyone seeing you like this is sure to want to have a turn with you, too.”
Holding him in a position that angles right at his prostate. Slamming into him over and over, right against that damn spot, with such gratuitous force that each thrust is punctuated by a flash of raw, euphoric pleasure that sends him scrambling.
“A-ah,” Zhongli gasps, grasping more furiously at Childe’s arms. “W-wait—“ Childe continues pounding him, until Zhongli’s breathing becomes fragmented and he can no longer control his own voice.
“Uh…! Ah, ah, unh, ah, hah, ah, w-wai, ah—“
Zhongli moans, babbling and clawing and spasming, trembling around Childe’s cock. Squirming with each thrust, squeezing in so tight he can no longer breathe. “G-gah, ah, ngh—not so hard, n-no, ah, I c-can't—“ Someone’s going to hear them like this, they’ve already gone too long without being discovered—
Something drops from the sky, shattering to ceramic pieces as it hits the floor.
Childe and Zhongli both look up to see a lady at the second-story balcony with her hand over her mouth.
—How long had she been there? Watching them?
“It seems we have an audience,” Childe says sweetly. Zhongli drops toward the wall in a slump, shuddering weakly. Horrifically aware of the dampness on his cheeks and how much of a mess he must look right now—hair plastered against his face, legs barely able to stand.
“Don’t be afraid,” Childe calls out. “I won’t hurt you. It’s no business of mine if you like to watch this kind of thing—I mean, we weren’t exactly being subtle about it, especially not him.” He laughs lightly, patting Zhongli on the back. “I was just joking earlier. We wouldn’t actually go all night, you know. I’m sure the sound of his moans would keep all of Liyue up.”
“Isn’t that right, pet?” He slaps Zhongli on the ass and he lets out a whimper, trembling. Childe’s tugging at the invisible leash, making sure he stays put.
“Nn,” he grunts, in muffled response. Childe turns back to the lady. “Not a word to anyone about this, alright?” His tone is light, jovial—no guilt or shame, but there’s an edge of flippancy that implies he has no shame doing things far, far worse than fucking his partner in public. “You wouldn’t want to ruin our fun, after all.”
The lady nods, wordlessly, frozen in place. It’s unlikely she can make out his true identity in this light, but if Zhongli were her, he would have reason to fear from his chilling sense of composure alone. The rumors about the Fatui are certainly enough.
“Zhongli, say thank you.”
“Zhongli.” He repeats his name, far louder than a whisper, as if he wants everyone in the vicinity to hear. “Thank you,” Zhongli chokes out. Still speared full on Childe’s cock. It nudges around, rubbing lightly inside him. It takes all his power to choke back a whine.
Childe slams his hips forward again and Zhongli falls apart, letting out what he’s sure must be the filthiest noise he’s made in his life. And the lady is still there. Is she watching in horror? Disgust? Fascination?
“You may leave now, miss. And not a word, alright?”
Zhongli hears her shuffle back inside, as if she’d seen something she shouldn’t have. “Hah," Childe smirks. "The look on her face—you would've thought she'd seen me fucking Rex Lapis or something. Like I was defiling her very god, dragging him down to the earth to fuck him stupid with my cock."
Zhongli would like to think the expression on his face is unreadable, but he very well knows it's not.
"Alright then,” Childe says, “back to it, xiansheng.”
The words fly from his mouth before he realizes what he’s saying.
“No,” he exhales, voice a little less steady this time.
Childe sighs, patting his side. “Aww, come on. Are you upset with me? It was just a joke.”
“It was one person,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s really no big deal.”
“This is not about that, Childe. I told you, before, I did not want this—“
“You didn’t want this?” Zhongli holds his breath as his voice goes soft. “But you were begging so desperately for it earlier. So loud, I thought the whole street would hear. Who was the one fucking me with their ass, sinking over my cock like a well-trained prostitute? Who was I to stop you?”
“No, you—” Zhongli stutters, trying to keep himself composed. Trying to remember. “You made me, you made me bend over and—“
“Made? Oh no, Zhongli, that was all you.”
A hand descends on him, grabbing at his throat once more. This time, there’s no explosive pleasure to stave off the discomfort. Zhongli jerks at the suddenness of the attack, grasping at the hand around his neck.
“Gnh— ah, Childe, let… go…”
“You love this, Zhongli. You want it.” He gasps as Childe fucks into him again. Even now, his treacherous body tells him this feels good, that he should want more of it. “Trying to play it all off as my fault? Pinning the blame on me, like you always do?”
“Ah, ngh, ah…”
It’s never been about what you wanted.
Zhongli can hear the words all too clear now. Has memorized the sensation of Childe grabbing at his hair, yanking until his scalp burns and tears form in his eyes. A part of reality falls apart right then. Childe is not pushing it too far, right now; he always has been. And Zhongli had simply just let it happen.
His half-hearted apologies, his cruel jokes, the manipulation of his desire. Fear suddenly springs through him. He let Childe fuck him, here, outside. Touch him wherever he wanted, wear him down until he gave in—
Is it his own willingness that terrifies him the most?
“Blame,” Zhongli rasps. “You do not… care.” He clings clumsily to the hands at his throat, knowing he’s too weak to dispel Childe’s grip. “H-how can you… ever know what I want?”
The words burn like fire in his chest, bitter. He regrets them before he says them. “With you,” Zhongli splutters, “it has never been about me.”
“...Maybe you’re right, Zhongli.” Childe’s voice is calm. “Maybe it was about me. You agreed to the contract, didn’t you? To let me do what I wanted with you?”
“And you… abused it. Continue to abuse it.” Words spill out, things he thought he could endure.
…Childe's mask comes off, clattering to the floor. His blue eyes are engulfed by something much colder than spite, stagnant in their depths even now.
“Abuse?” He raises a brow. “Let me tell you a secret: humans can be very, very selfish animals. And you yourself are no better. Indulging in your filthy desires, coming back again and again to tell me how much you like being fucked with. And then acting like it’s my fault.”
Childe spits, scuffing his boot against the floorboards. “Let me tell you a secret: you let me. You let me do all of it. Because you want me, Zhongli, so bad that you need me. How would you ever know what I want?”
“You told me once before,” Zhongli says hoarsely, “and I will ask again. What do you want from me?”
Childe’s lip curls, before returning to neutral, and he leans forward to whisper into Zhongli’s ear. Fingers tightening around his neck, enough to choke him of breath.
“I said… I want to desecrate you, xiansheng. To violate you and ruin you, fuck you until you can’t remember your name. Until you’re so broken, no one can have you but me.”
This time, there’s a glimmer of genuine fear in Zhongli’s eyes as he realizes what Childe truly means.
“Then, you’ve already succeeded,” Zhongli gasps. There are tears on his cheeks, wet and sticky, that he can’t bring himself to wipe. He feels Childe gently brushing away the wetness for him with his fingers, in a manner so tender it’s mocking.
“You know what you’re going to do?” Childe says. “Shut up and let me fuck you. A good cockwarmer shouldn’t talk back.”
Time freezes. Childe’s dick twitches in him, filling him with heat. His mind floods with something thick and syrupy. He’s instantly nauseated, disoriented, muddled, the events of earlier that day a world away.
He feels a chill at his ears as Childe leans back up, grip growing just loose enough to let him breathe. But the pressure is still there, a reminder of his power. For some strange reason, the warmth of his hand around his neck is a comfort.
Childe, seizing control over something he has no right over. Shouldn’t he know, by now, that—
Ah, it’s too much, his mind cries. He sobs, squeezing tight around the cock inside him, aware of how fragile he feels in this moment. His eyes are glassy, his voice small.
He’s going to break.
He could stop Childe, he thinks. Couldn’t he? But it feels like something floating far away, out of reach in his mind. When it comes down to it, he can’t bring himself to muster the power. He's just a human. Possession, desire, hatred, love all bubbling to the surface in a need to devour.
No, he shouldn’t—
‘You weren’t afraid at all, were you? If you wanted to stop me, I’m sure you could.’
It’s not a matter of can’t, but will.
“N-no more,” Zhongli gurgles unintelligibly. He’s hiccuping now, cheeks wet with tears. He feels betrayed, but when was there trust to betray? When did he become lost? Too much has changed since it all started. The tree that sprouted between them has finally stretched its arms, but the branches have grown twisted and gnarled. Diseased, choking the life from them both. In the end, this may be all the two of them ever amount to. As desperately as Zhongli may claw for more.
“...Fine,” the harbinger says coolly. “If that’s what you want. I’m tired of this.”
Childe uses his other hand to press his fingers at the soft skin below Zhongli’s stomach, right at the center of his riptide mark. He blinks, holding his breath in confusion, and this time he fails realize until it tears through him.
Zhongli spasms, every last muscle in his body suppressing a scream, as unimaginable pleasure surges through his veins like a drug. Childe doesn’t stop thrusting, his hole clenching sloppily around his cock, even as his vision goes white and his body jerks in pleasure so intense it's long crossed into pain.
A few last, final rolls into his oversensitive body. Combined with the feeling of Childe’s real cock inside him, he almost short-circuits, mind breaking entirely. He’s a sleeve, a pretty cocksleeve, just a pretty little toy for Childe to use and abuse, to fuck and and fuck until it finally breaks—
“Ungh—” Zhongli sobs. Cracks spiderweb across his mind and body, drool leaking from his mouth. His body bounces up and down on Childe's cock as he's put to his fullest use. “Ah—! Childe— ah, n- no, please, no more…”
He tries to keep his voice down even now, trying not to scream, but it just comes out hoarse and raspy, until it finally spills into something else.
The adepti's toes curl, eyes rolling back as he spasms and wails, held up by nothing but Childe’s rough grip keeping him plastered to the wall. Cum spurts out of his cock with such force it splatters against stone, dripping down the tiles in gobs. His hips buck involuntarily, something wet dripping down his thighs.
Childe rolls his hips again. He doesn’t stop, leaving him gagging and choking as his cock grinds against his prostate, digging and digging and digging at his insides until Zhongli thinks he’s going to pass out from overstimulation. Eyes rolled back and tongue lolling out in a blank stupor.
No, Zhongli blinks, mind drooping down in a haze. Childe doesn’t do that. But, perhaps, he would. And Zhongli can imagine it.
Childe lets go of his hair and pulls out, releasing his sobbing wreck of a body to the mercy of nothing. Zhongli stutters, voice cracked and broken as he tries to steady himself. Without the support, Zhongli’s legs simply cave inward.
He tries to grab onto him for support, but Childe steps backward coldly, letting Zhongli crumple to his knees. He stares back at his broken expression without a word.
“Wait,” Zhongli gasps hoarsely. “Don’t go, I—”
And the harbinger takes another step backward, expression unreadable. As if he can’t bear to look at him—not out of disgust, but boredom.
The man before him is no longer divine. He has been ripped from his holy pedestal, torn apart and cast to the ground in a filthy heap.
“Childe—” Or is it that simple? No, nothing is simple. Zhongli reaches out to him, but he simply turns.
“My game, my rules,” he says, voice low. “Why do you even want me, Zhongli?”
Zhongli’s eyes widen.
“I just… I do not understand, Childe—please—all I meant was—”
“No, you don’t.” He cuts him off, slipping his gloves back on. Zhongli’s heart rips in two. Why? He isn’t making any sense; none of this is. All he wanted was... Childe. All he wanted was for it to stop. All he wanted was to feel full, to show him he cared about it all—
Zhongli should know he didn’t do anything wrong. Why, then, is Childe looking at him like that?
“You’re right, xiansheng.” He lets out a sigh, combing his hair back with his fingers. Composing himself, a jarring note of disappointment in his voice. “I shouldn’t be here. Doing this.”
And then... suddenly, without another word, he’s gone, just like that. Disappearing back into the night without a goodbye. Leaving Zhongli slumped on the floor to nurse the angry red marks with his fingers, knees pressed tightly together and cum seeping out of his asshole.
It’s completely dark now, as if to signal, ‘The day is done. This is it.’ He can barely make out his clothes on the floor, strewn filthily across the pavement like rags. He covers himself up with the coat closest to him to ease the chill blowing through his ribs.
A mess. All of it.
Zhongli squeezes his eyes shut, a broken noise escaping his chest.
Even the riptide mark is gone, now, plunging him into darkness without its familiar blue glow. In the quiet, he realizes how loud he must have been. What a fool he made of himself. The humiliation is just another addition to the pile of degradations he’s had to endure.
Shame washes over him in thick, suffocating waves, swallowing all the remaining fury he could’ve mustered. He should have never let this happen—none of it. He shouldn’t have ever been in this situation, with Childe’s cruel words in his ear and his legs aching beneath him.
“That’s where I heard it,” a stranger’s voice calls. “I thought I heard someone—making noises, back here, like they were wounded—a fight—?”
Zhongli freezes, torn out of his haze. He can’t be found. Not like this, not like this.
“Shouldn’t we check it out?” Another voice.
Please, he begs, muffling a sob. Don’t. Don’t come back here. There’s silence in the air, for a moment.
“I don’t hear anything. You sure this was the right place?”
There’s a distant shuffling and Zhongli lets out a shuddering breath of relief, clutching to his knees. Alone once more with his thoughts, falling apart like crumbling stone.
He sits there alone for a while, without any more disturbances, before realizing Childe isn’t coming back. By then, the tears and shaking have stopped, and it’s all been sealed over with a layer of emptiness. Perhaps some distance from Childe has done him good.
He gathers his belongings and heads back home.
Childe is the only one present at their next meeting. The harbinger waits alone before he realizes he simply isn’t coming—not when he’s always so punctual, so eager. He paces in his office uneasily, eyes darting to the door at the slightest disturbance.
Tartaglia is not a coward and Tartaglia does not feel shame, but there is no other word to describe the sickening pain of knowing that he'd fled.
Zhongli knocks on his door the following day. Hands folded, voice calm. Well-groomed and well-composed.
“I would like to end the contract.”
hoo boy. yeah, this is rock bottom. it doesn't get worse from here
remember I once said this would end extremely badly? theyre going to try to actually figure their shit out. damage control (I can't promise the happiest of endings, but it will certainly be less destructive than the original game plan)
EDIT: ignore anything I ever say about the ending, actually. ever. dont trust my idea of "happy." this fic is escaping my hands.