“should’ve just begged for me in the first place, huh?”
tartaglia x male reader
tw: smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), top male reader, reader is a sadist, but tartag is a masochist so its all good lmao, binding, crying, begging, overstimulation, orgasm denial, nipple play, reader is mentioned to be a half-god, childe is called a whore once, childe is called ajax for this fic, i think thats it but im not sure lmao
genre: smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)
summary: uhh plotless smut lol childe radiates bottom energy so much
a/n: this was supposed to be a small little thirst. small. idk what happened.
part 2!
!not proofread
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y/n could hear ajax’s sobs as his tip leaked precum, a white puddle already resting on his stomach from the previous orgasms. his hands were tied behind his back, immobilizing him and rendering him helpless. you were still thrusting into his tight hole, the two of you covered in a thin layer of sweat. ajax’s back was leaning against the bed frame, yet his head was hanging down as you could hear his pants and soft sniffles. he didn’t even know how many times he had cum that night already, all he knew was that he wanted more- needed more. he felt you slow down, and as he was about to start complaining, he felt your lips against his, bringing him into a surprisingly soft kiss, which was a large contrast to how the two of you looked at that moment. tounges danced with each other as ajax could feel your dick twitch inside him. you pulled back, quickening your pace with a soft groan. you glanced at ajax’s tear- streaked face, then let go of one of his thighs you were holding up to trail up his chest until you were brushing your fingers against his hard nipples, which brought a raspy whimper up his throat. he was getting lost in the moment when you suddenly pinched his nipple, hard. you felt him tighten around you, letting out a hoarse moan while he threw his head back, hearing a bump from his head hitting the bed frame. you put your hand back to his thigh to hold it back up, and replaced your fingers with your mouth- licking, sucking, and biting the hardened nub. you heard him let out another sob as he spasmed around your cock, his cum being so thin at this point that he might as well be squirting water. his back arched off the bed frame, and you slowed down your thrusts until they came to a stop. you were a bit tired too- you cummed quite a bit already inside the harbinger. you were about to pull out to get cleaned up, but you felt your boyfriend bite your neck, keeping you in place.
“where do you think you’re going? i thought you said you’d fuck me dumb today. i expected more from a half-god.”
this made you chuckle- you’ve never met anyone else in your entire eternal life who could handle more rounds than ajax. it made you amused, excitement bubbling from your core.
“fine. we can go further. but-if you really want me to go harder-“
you paused to lean down and kiss his temple, leaning a bit further down to be right next to his ear to whisper-
“you’re gonna have to beg for it, you little whore.”
this sent shivers down ajax’s spine; he smirked, and replied with a snarky response.
“you’ll never see me beg for a good fucking, shouldn’t you just give it to me?”
~
ajax was squirming, openly sobbing. as much as he regretted saying those words to you, every inch of his body seemed to love it. he had been denied orgasm after orgasm, your thrusting and hand jerking him off stopping right at the edge. it was driving him crazy- his eyes rolled to the back of his head, head tilting back as far as it could go before the bed frame stopped it. his mouth open wide as it spilled moan after moan, taking in huge gulps of air as he was fucked right to the edge, just to be pulled back. his tears were falling freely off of his eyes onto his cheeks, mind hazy from the intense feeling he was getting. he could barely process you were talking to him, but your hand gripping his chin to make him face you brought him back to reality.
“you want to cum?”
this sounded like a miracle to ajax; he had been on the edge for archons know how long, hours probably. he was willing to do anything for release at this point.
“YES-yesyesyes, please- please- i’m sorry i said that to you- pleasepleasepleaseplease just let me cum,”
he blurted out, tightening around the cock that had been ruining his insides for the past several hours. this seemed to satisfy you, and you leaned down to kiss his forehead with a soft smile.
“finally decided to listen, huh? well, i guess i could help you, since i’ve had my fun.”
you helped to shift ajax so that he was on his back, and retying his restraints so that they were tied against the bed frame. you suddenly brought his knees to his shoulders, which made ajax stiffen in surprise. when you slammed yourself back inside, he let out a loud, raspy moan that was almost a shout. you gave him no time to recover, pulling out until just the tip of your cock was inside and harshly trusting all the way back in. ajax could feel you so much deeper inside, your tip pressing against his prostate. he moaned loudly at every thrust, hearing the flesh of your hips snap against his bruised ass. you put his legs on your shoulders and leaning down so you could bite at his neck, hard enough to draw blood. you felt ajax’s back lift off of the bed as you sucked on the spot you had bit as you whispered soft praises into his ear, which were hardly processed by the ginger. you glanced down, seeing his stomach bulge with each thrust. as you bit down on another spot, you pressed down on the bulge, which finally pushed ajax over the edge. he screamed, sticky white liquid squirting from his tip. he clenched down hard on your cock, which made you cum as well with a moan. the two of you sat there for a minute, both panting as you calmed down from your highs. after a minute, he heard you chuckle.
“should’ve just begged for me in the first place, huh?”
you heard him laugh weakly, his voice raspy as he responded.
“i’ll be sure to get you back sometime.”
—
words: 996
damn i just wanted bottom childe and this is what my rotting brain created 🧍
planning a part 2 where foul legacy!childe tests the limits of his half-god boyfriend 🤗
edit: forgot to add tags lmao
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Jason graduates from the Wolf House at 3, 4 years old. He trudges to Camp Jupiter in sneakers and thin clothes. The Mist handwaves off the strangeness of a toddler hitchhiking across plains and streets. Nobody bats an eye when he clambours onto buses with his tiny backpack and sunken gaze. He's alone, battling monsters that leave scratches and bite marks, rationing away his supply of nectar and ambrosia. Some nights he sleeps tucked under grass and leaves and thinks about the bleeding hand he's wrapped up in a piece of shirt he burnt off. But he just grips his staunched wound tight and ignores those thoughts. What if he needs the medicine more later?
In perilous battle, he cries for help, but it never comes. A few times he sees an eagle fly overhead when the fight is done and he's crusted in blood, breathing as hard as his little lungs will allow. It never comes back.
He stops crying.
Muddy and scabbed, he reaches camp. They throw him to the showers then straight into training. His tiny hands grow thick with callouses before the week is over. It hurts, but he doesn't cry. There is no one else his age around. Much like the Wolf House, everyone is bigger, older, and uninterested in the toddler racing to keep up.
It's barely three months and he gets thrown into his first quest. It's barely three months and there's a second one. A third. A fourth. Like clockwork they come and a woman walks across his frustrated dreams to remind him of who he is.
A soldier, a leader, the son of Jupiter, the pride of Rome, she says. Nothing less than that will suffice.
He is five, six, seven, eight, and the callouses on his hands are bleeding. He knows to burn his own wounds so he can attend to his injured teammates, saving the last bit of magical medicine for them. He knows how to fight with both hands tied behind his back, with a blindfold on, with his all senses dulled. His life is quests, training, war games. He naps on a spare mat in the back of the training grounds in between practice. Sometimes he forgets he has a bed.
He is nine years old and he does not remember how to cry. He has more completed quests than anyone his senior. He sits in on meetings. He prepares for the future laid out before him. He doesn't get it when his Cohort members try to lure him away from the training grounds, speaking of fun and games. He doesn't get it when they tell him to be a kid. When they squeeze his cheeks and remind him that he is still young. Is he? There's a child in the mirror he doesn't recognize. But the child doesn't look young. Just sad, and tired.
He is ten years old and Dakota asks him why he's such an old man already. He doesn't know how to answer. A woman hovers over him in his dreams, whispering that he is grown now. An adult. Time to lead. Time to take charge. In the morning, he is chosen leader of the Cohort. It is the only birthday present he ever gets and remembers.
He is twelve and Reyna asks him if he's happy. He lies. These days he lies a lot. It's in the mimicry of his voice, his actions, his subdued expressions. He learned young how to walk around the truth. He learned young how to fit in. He doesn't know what happiness feels like. He doesn't know what anything feels like. Except pain. He'll never forget pain.
He is fifteen and he does not remember pain. He does not feel it when monsters latch onto bare skin and bury their teeth in deep. He doesn't feel it when he punched in the stomach. No, the sensation is warm now, burning sometimes. But the pain is gone. It doesn't linger, it doesn't hit. Even when the battle is won and adrenaline cools him down. It's an ache, but it's not pain. Pain is worse than this.
This is just his baseline.
The medics at camp tell him his nerves are damaged, his body quaking from overuse. They warn him about going up against Krios alone. They tell him to rest for a few days. For a couple of weeks. As they feed him nectar and bandage his bruised and fractured ribs, he says nothing. Only stares ahead. Empty and quiet.
Don't they know he can't stop? He is a soldier, a leader, the son of Jupiter, the pride of Rome.
Nothing less than that will ever suffice.
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