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In one fell swoop, Childe’s successfully pinned you to the ground.
You had gotten distracted when he winked at you during your sparring session (cheap tactic – you think irritably) and then stumbled over your damn feet and before you knew it, he’d swept you to the ground. The laugh he’d let out sent a wave of irritation through you.
When you clamber onto your knees to try and get back up, he drops down next to you, a hand pressing firmly against your back and pressing your face down onto the ground beneath you. You let out a discontented noise, squirming and his other hand moves to your wrists, holding them together behind your back.
“H-hey! Lemme go,” you complain, wriggling. The position you’re in is certainly less than appropriate – face down, ass up - and you squirm uncomfortably.
“I must admit, you do look quite good like this,” Childe says, sounding far too pleased with himself. You can feel your face heat up and send a glare back at him. This isn’t the first time one of your sparring sessions has ended questionably, but the way he teases you still sparks a whirlwind of emotion in you.
“Oh, shut up ,” you shoot back, half annoyed and half embarrassed.
Without warning, you’re met with a sharp stinging sensation blossoming across the swell of one ass cheek and you choke out a noise of surprise – he actually just spanked you. Molten heat comes to life in the pit of your gut, fast, too fast, and you grind your teeth irritably.
“Now, now, is that any way to talk to the winner of our little match?”
“You didn’t win -“
You’re interrupted by another slap, your voice breaking off in a shocked gasp. He laughs at you, actually laughs and you feel frustration bubbling in your chest. Squirming, you try to wiggle out of his grasp but he just tightens his grip on your wrists, clicking his tongue in disappointment.
“You could stand to take your loss a little more graciously.”
He spanks you again. The pain makes you arch away from him, your body attempting to curl inwards but then you arch back , pressing your face against the floor, tilting your hips back as your control wanes. Dammit.
“Oh, good girl,” Childe praises and you want to melt away, shame fluttering through you when his words send heat curling in your belly and between your thighs.
“Sadist,” you snarl, and he laughs again. You can feel him shift next to you and you see his shadow move into the corner of your vision. His hot breath fans across your neck and he leans in, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.
“Masochist,” he counters and you huff in response, wriggling.
You yelp in response as a hand collides with your ass again, but this time his touch doesn’t relent. You feel his palm move in slow circles over your abused cheek and you can’t help but let out a small relieved noise, pushing back against the contact.
“Don’t you wanna be good for me?” He inquires and you chew on your cheek nervously, eyes flittering about. “No?”
You’re about to open your mouth to reply when he spanks you again and this time the noise that escapes you is neither shocked nor pained, but a soft whine.
“If you’re good, I’ll give you a nice little reward,” he singsongs, voice a tempting whisper in your ear. “Even though you lost. What do you say, huh?”
His hand slowly slides down the back of your thigh, then back up, fingers tracing a line inward, dangerously close to your center and you can’t help the gasp that escapes you. Nervously, you glance back at him and his blue eyes are trained intently on you, waiting for a response. When you give a shaky nod, he grins dangerously.
“Count,” Childe instructs you simply and before you can say anything, his hand meets your ass. You arch back at him and he grabs one abused cheek roughly before drawing back and spanking you yet again. You mumble. “Reward’s off the table if you don’t count.”
“One,” you say quietly. He does it again and a broken little noise escapes you. “Two.”
“Louder.”
“Two!”
Childe says nothing, but continues his punishment. With each smack, you feel need curl in your belly, your resolve wavering, voice tightening as the sting of the contact turns into something sharper, darker.
You whimper when he yanks your pants down your hips, shoving them to your knees. He takes your underwear with them, leaving your ass bare, and you feel the cool air against the heat of your core. Almost instinctively, you try to squeeze your thighs together to cover yourself and Childe responds to your actions with another slap.
“Should I leave bruises today, girlie?” He asks, almost absentmindedly, his gloved hand caressing and squeezing one abused cheek. A chuckle escapes him as you’re about to reply and you feel him slide a hand between your thighs, pushing them further apart. “Well, would you look at that?”
“You’re dripping ,” Childe informs you before you feel a finger slide up your slit and he presses down on your clit a little too hard, earning a cry from you. A shudder overtakes you momentarily and you feel hot and cold in one fell swoop; lust clouds your mind and you can’t help but grind back against the contact. “Oh, look at you. So eager.”
“Childe – please.”
“I did say I would reward you, didn’t I?” He asks, soft but teasing and you whine when he stops touching you. “Good things come to those who wait, right?”
He spanks you again, gloved hand colliding with the tender, abused flesh of your ass and you feel your cunt clench desperately around nothing and all you can think of is how badly you want .
“Ah!”
“Count again.”
You start over.
One.
Two.
Three.
Your head swims, sensation overwhelming you. With each strike, the ache inside you grows and at nine, the pain threatens to overtake your arousal and as if he knows, he pauses.
“One more.”
The last slap makes you cry out, teeth digging into your lower lip as you try and bite back tears. “T-ten.”
You hear Childe hum appreciatively and he skims his gloved fingers softly over your tender skin. You wince for a moment, then relax under his gentle touch.
“What a good girl,” he praises you and you can’t help the desperate little whimper that escapes you. “Are you ready for your reward?”
You nod as well as you can with your face pressed down into the floor and cast a needy look back at the Harbinger. He’s looking at you expectantly, still running one hand over your abused ass. As good as Childe is at hiding his feelings, you can see his pupils blown wide with lust, and it sends a wave of hunger through you.
“Please,” you say. “Please fuck me.”
“ Fuck you?” Childe repeats, expression splitting into a dangerous little smirk, one brow arching high. “You already need it that bad, girlie?”
“ Childe ,” you plead, your voice needy and quiet. You’re not sure you’ve ever wanted someone to take you so badly before – shame is out the window and all you can focus on is how aroused you are and the ache between your thighs.
“Hmm,” he murmurs. “Who am I to deny such an obedient girl her reward?”
His grip on your wrists relents and you bring them forward to brace yourself against the ground, swallowing nervously. You can hear the jingle of his belt as he undoes it and you glance back at him. You watch hungrily as his cock springs free from the confines of his clothes and you can feel your face flush, mouth watering and you suck your lower lip into your mouth.
Childe moves between your calves, knocking one knee against your thighs to spread your legs further and you arch up at him eagerly.
His cock presses against you and a gasp escapes your lips, one hand flying to cover your mouth and trying to stifle the noise. You blink and he’s already grabbed your arm and yanked it back.
“Oh, no,” he says. “You asked for this. Now you’re going to let me hear how much you like it.”
“Childe, I - ah !”
He presses into you without warning, filling you in one thrust and you let out a broken moan. The stretch is divine agony – your walls fluttering around him as your body struggles to adjust – and your breath escapes you when he sheathes himself to the hilt. Childe curses and groans, hands finding your hips and gripping so tightly you can feel his nails digging into you.
“ Fuck ,” he mutters, easing his hips back and sliding out of you almost completely. You whimper and look back at him.
“Childe…” He grins at you in response.
He thrusts back into you without warning and you cry out, arching back at him as he fills you again. You’re woefully unprepared for the way his cock stretches you – body stuck somewhere between aching and craving – and you whimper pathetically.
There’s no hesitation before Childe sets a rhythm, fucking into you insistently and fully, every thrust leaving you gasping.
“So tight. Such a good girl for me,” he says, interrupting your thoughts and you tighten around him at the praise. He pauses mid-thrust when he feels it, a chuckle escaping his mouth and his hands glide from your hips up your back, fingers dancing over your spine.
“Fuck, d-don’t stop,” you stammer, pushing your hips back against his. “Please.”
“Go ahead,” Childe speaks. “Fuck that pretty little cunt on my cock.”
Your eyes roll back as you start eagerly start pressing backwards against him, using him for your own pleasure. A whimper escapes you, one hand flying between your thighs to attend to your neglected clit. He grunts, a hand coming back to the abused swell of your ass and Childe spanks you again.
“ Ah !”
Your pace stutters, hips canting at an angle and your walls clench around his length. He lets out a breathless little laugh when you do and you can feel the blunt edges of his nails dig into your hips.
“I didn’t say stop, girlie.”
If your body wasn’t strung so tightly, maybe you’d be embarrassed, but the way Childe fills you up leaves you stupid – eyes rolling back, a hot shudder going down your spine when you fuck back at him desperately. Your adrenaline is still so high from the sparring session all you can focus on is the pleasure building in your gut and the slick sound of you fucking yourself on his cock.
“Fuck,” the harbinger groans and you can feel him start meeting your thrusts, the pressure of your orgasm mounting higher as he hits deeper, harder , and you whimper. “What a good little slut you are for me.”
He presses back into you insistently now, fingers gripping you so tightly his nails might break skin, and the stinging sensation is lost somewhere in the hazy swirl of heat that coils in your gut.
“Yes – yes – yes , fuck, please , Childe!”
“Maybe next time I’ll fuck you in Foul Legacy form,” Childe pants, keeping his pace steady. “ Really fill you up like you want, huh?”
You can’t help but picture it – the visual of him looming over you in his armor, caging you in with ease, claws tearing at your clothes as he splits you in two – and you’re gone. Your climax crashes into you and all you can do is keen, a hand flying over your mouth as your cunt spasms around Childe’s length. Loudly, he laughs.
“Did you just come ?” He asks. His voice is cruel, taunting, and you feel a wave of shame wash over you momentarily when he stops fucking you. “How cute. You’re so pathetic.”
Something tightens in your belly at his words and you sob, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. You open your mouth to reply, mind still lost in a haze of pleasure and then he starts fucking you in earnest – giving you no respite after your orgasm. He slams his hips to yours repeatedly, filling you relentlessly and you can feel your limbs going weak from the intensity of sensation he’s subjecting you to.
He changes angles and suddenly you’re too full , thighs shaking with the effort of keeping yourself together. The way he pounds into you has your head so fuzzy you can’t focus on anything but how overwhelming the feeling of him fucking you is, a cry tearing from your lips.
“T-too much, too much, please, fuck!”
“Too much?” He parrots back. “Tell me to stop, then.”
There’s a momentary lull in the pace of his movement and when you whimper helplessly instead, walls fluttering around him, he laughs. It’s cruel and taunting and so good and you moan when he resumes fucking you.
“That’s what I thought. You like when it’s too much, huh?”
He’s close – you think, maybe, but you can’t think straight - but the desperate way he fucks into you and the breathlessness in his taunts certainly makes it seem like his control is unraveling.
“Can you come again for me, girlie?” Childe spurs you on, leaning forward and down against you before snaking a hand between you. Fingers find your swollen, sensitive clit and he draws slick circles around it, eliciting a wail from you at the feeling of sharp, unrelenting pleasure. It’s so much, too much, and your body can’t decide between pain or pleasure, eyes welling with tears as your hips cant back at his and you cry out.
“ Please !”
“Fuck,” he groans. “One more for me. One more. Wanna feel you come all over my cock.”
His words push you further to the edge and you blankly register the feeling of his mouth against your shoulder, hot, heavy breaths tickling your skin and then he fucks harder into you, hips colliding with yours and before you know it, you’re crying and begging.
“Close! Ah - ha, close, close , please – Childe !”
Tears cascade down your cheeks and you sob as the tension tightens unbearably in your abdomen. You gasp for breath, your cunt tightening greedily around his dick.
“Come - come for me. Come on . Be a good girl and come for me,” he hisses in your ear, humid breath tickling across your neck. A noise rumbles from his lips, deep and desperate and then you feel his teeth press into your shoulder and you crumble.
Stars burst behind your eyes as Childe pulls another orgasm from you, the tight curl of tension in your belly suddenly releasing, and your mouth opens in a silent scream, nails digging into the ground. You hear him curse loudly from behind you, pace stuttering as he gives you one last, forceful thrust, and somewhere between the immobilizing pleasure, you think you can feel the way his cock throbs, emptying himself inside of you.
It takes a moment for your senses to return to you, heaving deep breaths in the aftershocks of your climax, and when Childe pulls out of you, a whimper escapes you, the feeling of emptiness causing you to tense and tighten around nothing.
“Shit,” you mumble quietly, face stained with tears as you try to hold yourself up on your arms. Behind you, the harbinger grunts and you feel him run a finger up your thigh and to your cunt.
“Look good filled with my cum,” he comments, a little breathless, a little tired, and then swipes a line up your slit, pushing some excess of his seed back into your abused hole. Your hips jerk and you hiss, reaching back to slap his hand away.
“Quit it,” you complain. “Sensitive.”
“Whoops,” he breathes with a small laugh before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek and then he pulls your pants back up your thighs, his attempt at redressing you lazy, underwear sitting skewed across your hips.
Shakily, you push yourself up onto your aching knees, fixing your clothes and you glance back at him. Childe’s still flushed, the pink tinge across his cheeks just starting to taper off, fingers hastily redoing the buttons on his pants and he looks up at you once he does. He flops back onto his ass, propping himself up with one arm.
“C’mere,” he says and before you have a chance to respond, he tugs you into him, back to chest and his arms wrap around you. He nuzzles against your neck and you squirm. “You alright?”
You hum and nod despite the humid warmth radiating between the two of you. “What time is it?”
“Dunno.”
“Think we went past the time I reserved the training room for?” You ask, leaning to the side to look at him. He laughs and then shrugs.
“Maybe,” he says nonchalantly, but then his eyes narrow as he smirks. “Although I did preemptively dole out a punishment for you, after all.”
You hum and look away, sighing and glancing at your hands and the dirt under your nails. “Hm. And what makes you think I’ve learned my lesson?”
There’s a pause before you look at him again, trying to stop yourself from smirking at the surprise in his eyes, and then he laughs, throwing his head back, eyes crinkling closed. Once he stops you watch his mouth curl into a little smirk, head tilting to the side curiously.
“Is that so?” He inquires.
“Maybe.”
His response is to thread fingers through your hair and tug – just gently enough to pull you back and bare your neck to him – and a feeling flickers to life inside of you - warm, content, languid.
“Troublesome girl,” he murmurs, voice tinged with affection and you let a smile tug at your lips. His mouth presses to your cheek in a quick kiss before he lets go of your locks. “Lucky you look so damn good crying for me.”
A knock at the heavy double doors of the room stirs the both of you from your comfortable haze.
“Two minutes,” Childe calls loudly enough for whoever it is to hear before untangling himself from you. Tiredly, you lean on each other to stand and you can’t ignore the pleasant ache that radiates from between your thighs. Once you collect your things, the two of you wander to the exit. There’s four recruits standing at the door looking irritated, but when they see Childe, their expressions change.
“Sorry about the tardiness,” you attempt to offer.
“You’re thirty minutes over,” one of them complains.
“Ah, don’t worry about it – my fault, really,” Childe says before anyone else can interject. “I’ll make sure she’s properly reprimanded. Room’s all yours, recruits.”
They file past you quietly and you swear you hear one of them whispering to another about what kind of “punishment” Tartaglia would possibly dish out. When the door slams shut behind them, you give Childe a look.
“Reprimanded, hm?” You inquire.
“Reprimanded,” he parrots back. “Now how about you go get yourself cleaned up, girlie? We can work out the logistics of a suitable punishment later.”
“When would that be?”
“My office. Tonight. Say nine?” He suggests – and it’s not really a suggestion so much as a demand but you nod anyway.
“Yes, sir,” you acquiesce and you can see his gaze darken just slightly. He waves two fingers at you before turning to wander off and you do the same.
“Oh, and one more thing,” he says from a few feet away and you pause, glancing back at him. He grins dangerously at you over his shoulder, blue eyes flashing.
“Don’t bother wearing any panties.”